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Chapter Text

Childhood

The first time Katsuki's gaze fell on Izuku, he was enraptured. The boy had this wide smile and eyes so sparkly that he thought they could ignite all the playground. He was walking on tiny weak legs which gave him the vague likeness of a fawn. The sun was playing on his dark green unruly curls. He was mesmerizing. Katsuki had to impress him. With a push of his hips, he propelled himself and the swing he was sitting on as high as he could and shouted:
"Hey, you, look how high I am!"
And when the ropes of the swing were nearly horizontal, he let go. The fall was more brutal than intended, but he hid the pain and the growing bruise on his knee with a blinding smile of his own.
"Sugoi!" said the green boy. And it felt like a victory.
He learned that day that the boy was called Midoriya, like in green, first name Izuku. That he could speak continuously, but was never boring. That he loved heroes and dreamed of becoming one. From this day, they met all the time. At the park, in each other's houses, at kindergarten. Some rainy days when they couldn't meet, they both sulked in their respective houses, cursing silently the weather that kept them apart. Izuku was kind hearted, brave in his own way, always ready to help, and would have given his own shoes if somebody asked for them. Katsuki was valiant, energetic, confident, and would have schemed four and a half plans to get shoes if he was asked for. Most of them would have landed them in deep trouble but he didn't care. They couldn't wait to get their quirks.

Izuku, who was the younger, got his first. It was a kind of strenght enhancement, and Katsuki begrudgingly admitted that it was pretty cool. Izuku became almost immediatly popular at kindergarten. The other children were in awe and took the habit of asking him to crush stones between his fingers, to lift appliances, to throw balls as far as possible. Izuku, being the people pleaser, did it every time, except for the balls, after losing one too many. He always had a crowd around him and Katsuki felt it had become hard to have the boy for himself as before. As if he wasn't the best friend anymore. He supposed the novelty would wear off eventually, or everybody would be blinded by HIS quirk when he'd get it.

He waited, and waited, and waited. The quirk never came. The day of the Doctor's visit, he was so shocked that he stayed silent for hours. Worried, his father Masaru took him for a walk, but when they got close to the park where he used to play with Izuku, Katsuki found his voice again and absolutely refused to enter. His parents figured they had to rip the band-aid in one go and went to kindergarten the next day, explaining to the teacher and all the pupils that Katsuki was quirkless, would stay that way, and that it wasn't a reason to treat him any differently.
Of course, they didn't listen. When Katsuki, at the first recess on the same day looked at the eyes of the assembled children, he was met with a variety of emotions, none of them kind. There was some contempt, despise, and so much disappointment. Izuku rushed to meet him and it was almost worse. Because Izuku was watching him with pity.

And the bullying started. Soon, Izuku and Katsuki got into their first argument. As they were young children who loved and needed each other so much, the quarrel did not last.
But from this moment, everything was different. Because, even with how much they wanted to forget it, Katsuki wasn't anymore part of the dreams they were crafting. With the cruel innocence of childhood, the other children never missed an occasion to drill his new reality in Katsuki's head. He was a quirkless, on the lower side of the food chain, one doomed to look from under the brilliance of the quirked ones. It was infuriating, saddening. Others had folded under the pressure, but Katsuki was nothing but a strong and resilient child. He didn't let himself dragged down. He went on in his life, proud as he had always been. The harassment took its toll on him, though. From sunny and born leader, he turned into a bitter, hard, very angry child. Unloveable was added to the mix of qualifiers used to talk about him.
Izuku, as a true hero-ling took upon him to protect Kacchan at any cost. Kacchan didn't like it and told him, again and again, with the help of his developing vocabulary and the volume of his young lungs. For nothing. Izuku would not relent, fighting the bullies for him, even if he had to fight Katsuki himself for the right to do so. Katsuki started calling him Deku. The boy only frowned. Both were stubborn and none of them would yield. So, Katsuki found ways to fight his own battles, without Izuku knowing. He met the bullies after school for "fair fights" that were never fair, at four or five against one.

When they could forget about the quirklessness, they loved being together. Only them could craft imaginary worlds in which they both could walk, like equals, to win and save. Then, there was a random child telling Izuku to let go of the angry useless boy, or the teacher subtly trying to separate them, as the quirkless one was clearly a bad influence on the angel one. Izuku mostly ignored them, and was always enthusiastic to get back at their shared games, but as the years wore on, Katsuki found that he did not share as much as he used to Izuku's admiration of heroes. Izuku kept telling him they would become heroes together, but how could he believe that when he didn't even let Katsuki confront children their age without butting in? And Katsuki kept losing to fights because his opponents always made sure they outnumbered him enough for not allowing him any chance. The cowards. But would he stop? Never. So he underwent the hero analysis rambling, the constant hero documentary watching, feeling more and more constricted and estranged as years passed.

Izuku was trying. He was trying really hard. He was doing all he could to help Katsuki, to keep Katsuki from running head on on fights he knew he couldn't win, to distract him from school and bullies, and to re-ignite the spark they once shared. It worked, sometimes, and they shared a sunday afternoon devoid of any clouds, but the monday followed, and Katsuki went back to his default mood, a quiet or an angry sulk. What was he doing wrong? He just couldn't understand. Yet, they persisted, both of them. There was still something that glued them together, even when their respective puzzle pieces shaped them differently, so differently that they didn't fit anymore. Katsuki's first thoughts in the morning were for Izuku, if he didn't ever called him that. Izuku's eyes were always on Katsuki, looking for his appraisal, for his so rare smile.

They made it work until Middle school. And then, puberty hit. Maybe the awakening of certain feelings between them was the straw that broke the camel's back. Or, maybe, in the harshest, cruelest environment of young teenagers, whatever understanding they had couldn't hold any longer. Maybe, they weren't just meant to be together, and the destiny was catching them at last.
It happened at the end of their second year of middle school, after a very trying week of constant jabs and slurs, enhanced by the fact that Katsuki always refused to lay low and ranked, again, first of his class of losers. Once again, the guy with big hands defied katsuki and once again, Izuku jumped in his defence, and once again, Katsuki lost his marbles at both the extra and Izuku. It had happened so much in the last year that it should have been nothing more than a lover's quarrel, but this time, after finding his locker room clogged by expansive foam and all his possessions ruined (including his phone), he got angry at the whole world, and when he met Izuku at the end of classes he took it all on him.
"It's your fault! It's all your fault, Deku!"
"How? How is it my fault, Kacchan? I told you not to antagonize them! I told you..."
"Who gave you the right to tell me what to do? Because I'm quirkless, you think I can't manage my things alone? If I had done it my way, they'd never touched me again"
"It would have gone on your record, idiot! You know that!" had shouted an exasperated Izuku. It was a sore point between them that Izuku's interventions were half protecting directly Katsuki, half stopping him from hitting others. Katsuki firmly believed that, had he done it his own way, he would have put a definite end to bullying. With blood if necessary. Meaning, not his.
"And what of it? It's not like I need a perfect record to go to any shitty High School"
"But Kacchan... UA will bar you?"
Katsuki sneered at that.
"I have absolutely no intent of going to UA, Deku."
That was not a lie, not a truth either, more of something he would say in the heat of the moment to make Deku shut up. And, man, how it shut him up! Izuku opened his mouth and closed it, and Katsuki revelled inside.
"Why? I thought...?"
"You assume too much about me, Deku."
"But you can be a hero, Kacchan!"
"Can I? Of course I can! I'm not a loser! But do I want it? I don't think so!"
"Kacchan! You don't know what you're talking about!"
And that was the sentence he should have not said. Katsuki's eyes flared.
"How do you dare!"
Izuku backtracked immediatly
"No, I did not mean that Kac..."
"Don't! Don't talk to me anymore ! Don't you ever talk to me again! I'm... not here to fill-up your hero complex or whatever!"
"Ka..."
"Stop! I won't listen any more!"
He left. Or more accurately, he stormed away. Izuku, rooted, wounded, watched him go. In the evening, he talked to his mum about it and for once, her counsels did not sound right to him. Bringing Katsuki a peace offering? He couldn't see how it would work. He could not, he would not bully Kacchan into accepting his friendship. So, pushing away his instincts screaming at him to hunt his friend into acceptance, he resolved himself to give Katsuki his space.

The next week was a pure hell. The bullies caught very quickly that Izuku was not protecting Katsuki anymore, and became reckless, not stopping at jabs and sneers, but destroying his things and hitting him even in class. Katsuki was punished for answering, and Izuku had to bite himself until drawing blood not to lash at the teacher.
On the next monday, Katsuki was not at school, and the story spread out as a wildfire that someone finally sent him to hospital. Izuku didn't want to believe it. So, he waited. It was only one month left before the end of term, but it still let Katsuki time to come back. Right? Katsuki did not actually come back. Izuku waited. Only two weeks to the graduation ceremony, that he could not not attend. One week. On the morning of the graduation ceremony, there was a gap among the students. Katsuki had not attended.

Katsuki had spent the week settling all his beef with bullies. He had had been sure that going all out would help in the long run, but had underestimated the power of big numbers. They had cornered him every time they could and finally, had him caught between a wall of the shrine and the back of a ramen shop. The cook, an old man in an apron, had heard and chased them before they could kill Katsuki and had him laying in his kitchen while waiting for Masaru. When his dad had arrived at last, he had driven his son to the hospital, not without thanking profusely the old man for his intervention.
Katsuki had stayed overnight at the hospital, and when he came back home, with an extensive health program to heal his broken ribs and fix the swell of his twisted ankle, his parents sat him on the sofa and talked to him sternly.
"How long?" asked Mitsuki.
"Since I was five" answered Katsuki, who was no liar, and didn't see the point in hiding the truth.
"I thought Izuku was helping you?" asked Masaru.
Katsuki sneered.
"As if I need a loser like him to help me. I could have taken them. All of them. They were just too many ganging on me."
"Katsuki, you know it's not the solution." insisted Masaru.
"What? You want me to roll over and tell them they're right? They're not better than me!" shouted a very hot headed Katsuki.
"You're far better than them" cut Mitsuki. "But as you said, they have the numbers." She kneeled to have her eyes in the line of her son's. "Katsuki. Your father and I were approached to work for the best fashion company in Tokyo. Very tempting. Big salaries, access to the top of designs and models. The only thing that kept us here was you, your school and your friendship with Izuku."
"Not friends any more"
"For now" assessed Mitsuki.
"What, are you calling me a liar?"
Masaru placated his son.
"No, no. We believe you. We just think, maybe one day..."
"Back to the track, we can take this job and leave to Tokyo. You could just finish your year here online, and we'd find a new high school with a better record of tackling back discriminations."
"Not discriminated."
"Well, a better school anyway. Won't be hard to find. What do you think?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah? No bickering or anything?"
"No. There's nothing for me, here, anyway", he said. But, inside, his heart ached with an unexpected pain.

The phone call was made on the same day, the Tokyo fashion agency offered to help the family to find a flat, and it was done in less than a week. Only a fortnight later, a lorry ladden with all their possessions drove them to Tokyo, leaving only a letter telling the school director that Katsuki wouldn't attend the graduation ceremony, and a notice for the postman to send their mail at their new address in Tokyo.

Chapter Text

When Katsuki did not turn out at the graduation ceremony, Izuku lost his marbles and it was enough to break his resolve to give Katsuki space. He ran to the Bakugo's house, only to find it empty, with a "on sale" cardboard pinned at one of the windows. He stayed a moment in front of the house where he had spent so many happy years with his best friend. He was filled with a curious mix of rage and sorrow. Rage at his silent phone, devoid of any notifications from Katsuki. Then he remembered the expansive foam incident. Maybe, just maybe, it was purely a technical problem? But then, Katsuki knew his number by heart and probably got a new phone soon. How could his friend move like a burglar in the night, without telling him anything? Without even sending a "I'm OK" text? He went home with a tight jaw, until he closed his bedroom door. He cried, then, sobbing with sorrow and regret. The spring holiday between terms was the worst of his life. Every morning, he woke up hopeful and then he looked at his phone and started mulling again. His mother admitted after a while having received a short word from Mitsuki. So, the Bakugos had been hired by this big company in Tokyo. Tokyo was not very far, but it could have been on the other side of the planet as far as a thirteen years old boy with a broken heart was concerned.

For Katsuki, moving felt like being freed at last. The company had rented for them a large flat, at the top of a tall building, with a balcony and an access to the roof. His room was a bit smaller that the one he had in Musutafu, but the rest of the apartment made up for that. One week inside his new lodgings, he was declared healed and allowed to roam the streets of Tokyo freely. Coincidentally, it was the fist day of the spring holidays, and pupils of all ages were invading the streets in small or big groups, eager to make the most of the season. Nobody knew him, nobody cared about him. He was, for the first time of his life, just another head in the crowd. He felt as if an enormous burden had suddendly slipped from his shoulders, and went to see the bloom of sakuras in Ueno park. Then he walked among excentric students in Harajuku, he strolled at night in Shinjuku on a rainy night, when the moving lights of the signboards reflected on the wet streets, making them looking like a weird dancefloor. For the first time in his life, he was on his own, with no worried Deku to subtly influence him into choosing any kind of activity undangerous for quirkless people. With his schedule wiped of all hero-related occupations, he found himself with so much time in his hands he almost signed immediatly for five or six activities. After a bit of talking with his parents, he narrowed his choice to drums, aikido lessons at the dojo, five blocs away, membership at the local library and another one at the gym situated in his own building.
The guy at the gym was around 25-30, very friendly, and made him answering a three pages form before allowing him on the machines. Katsuki tensed when he had to write "quirkless", but he did it anyway. It took a lot of will not to be scared by the reaction of others. And, if he was kicked from this gym, he'd just find another one.
"Bakugo Katsuki?" the guy asked. "Great name. I'm Kitamura Kenta." He started reading. "So. You're thirteen."
"Soon to be fourteen"
"I see. No quirk. Oh yes!"
"Yes?"
"A heartful yes. Freaks, all of them. You can't imagine how some quirks can damage the equipment. I should offer you a special discount."
Katsuki's eyes widened at that reaction.
"Yeah, freaks. You're quirkless too?"
"No. But my quirk allows me to switch from hiragana to katakana on printed texts. Not even all texts. When I was your age, I discovered that I could change the font of romanji printings too, so I used it to switch all the signs in front of the shops for comic sans. What a waste of power. I'd better be quirkless."
This time, Katsuki barked a laugh. It was not the first time he was meeting someone with a stupid quirk, but usually, their reaction was more along the lines of "at least I'm not quirkless like you"
"Back to business" Kitamura read the rest of the form attentively, and especially the "goals" part. "You want to get strong. How strong?"
"I want to win."
"Living up to the Katsuki name, don't you?"
"Exactly."
"Being strong does not come from physical strenght, you know that?"
"What do you mean?" asked the boy, suddendly defensive.
"There is the strenght of the body. The one you will improve here but strenght without skill is useless. You should consider an extra activity if you really want to be strong, and not just look strong."
"I have signed for aikido too."
"At Saru-sensei's dojo?"
"Why do you call him a monkey?"
"Sorry, it's his name. Part of his name. That's a good thing you met him. I want you to reach the first dan within the five next years.
"Yeah."
"Yeah?"
"Well, yes, sure. I'm not a quitter."
"Good. Because, that's the second point. Strenght of the mind. Resolve, sharpness. No one's strong if he's dumb or not willing to put on the effort."
Katsuki grunted.
"And then, there's the strenght of the heart. That one will make the difference."
Katsuki's heart sank. Body, heart, mind. Why was Kitamura describing Izuku for? Katsuki was not that perfect specimen, Izuku was. Izuku had it all, with the perfect quirk to match. How could he even compete? There was this small voice in his head telling him to give up, why bothering? Izuku would always be the best, anyway. Nobody needed him when Izuku roamed the streets. His thoughts must have shown on his face someway, because Kitamura was talking again.
"I don't know what's in your head at the moment, but I'll go on anyway. Heart. That's how you find your own strenght, instead of molding it on other's. Perhaps it says something to you."
"How?" asked Katsuki in a rasping voice. Kitamura laughed.
"If I answered this question, I'd be some kind of guru, and you'd better run far and quick. I'm just here to assess your starting point. You'll point the direction yourself. But you're 13... sorry, soon to turn 14. You're in no hurry. We'll start by improving your stamina. You're a tad too young to work on your muscles yet, it would only hinder your growth."

With so many exhilarating novelties, Katsuki didn't even have so much time to think about Deku. Of course, the image of his best friend popped constantly in his head, he sometimes turned on his right to talk to him only to remember that Izuku was not there and wouldn't be any more. But he could not long on his feelings. He never added Izuku's number on his new cell phone. What would he tell him, without falling in their old ways, without getting caught again in Izuku's wave? The holidays passed as a blur and he was at the door of his new middle school, in a smart uniform, bag on shoulder, jaw tense. The school proved to be way better than the Musutafu one. First, the pupils there were far less hero obsessed than in his last class, because, as Katsuki discovered later, the school was selective and oriented to prepare to a a small range of specific high schools, none of them being hero schools. Second point, any kind of discrimination was fought by teachers, directors and class representatives. Katsuki hated that their teacher's eyes, in her first meeting, lingered a bit too long on him while she was talking about the non-discrimination policy, but none came to tell him off or, worse, to tell him they'd protect him at any cost.
He was enrolled in the school's orchestra, where he could vent at the drums as much as he wanted, and signed to the ikebana club, because he had always liked the art of arranging flowers. The lessons were more trying than in Musutafu, and he struggled at the beginning to stay on the top three. Every day of the week, he was running a couple kilometers, three times a week he had a two hours aikido session, drums or gym on the other days. On sundays, he spent long hours at the library, reading or writing essays. Every night, he was going to sleep before nine, too exhausted to think much. At the end of the first year, he had to choose which options he would take, to help him preparing for the high school exams. He thought long and hard about them, talked to his parents, to Kitamura and Saru-sensei too. This choice would bet a definite one. A clean cut with the dream of becoming a hero, nurtured with Izuku during countless playdates and sleepovers. He signed for medical field. That night, he cried a little.

Izuku still didn't really know if he was hurt, resentful or plainly sad. He had spent the worst holiday ever, and started his third year of middle school in a strange state of mourning.
Katsuki was not missed, save by him, and everybody made that very clear. His friend (was he a friend, really? He started doubting it now) was brash, rude, and was fighting all the time. Quite quickly, the urge to bully found new targets, and a couple of girls with weak quirks replaced the Bakugo son as scapegoats. It was disheartening.
Mirroring Katsuki's new freedom, Izuku found himself with so much time in his hands, he didn't even know what to do with his life. So, he started working out, to help his body sustaining the ever growing strength of his quirk. Only when he was drenched in sweat after a long work out, he felt at peace.
Inko was worried, and she kept offering him to invite the nice girl he was talking about, or the boy he shared his last school project with. Izuku had no interest in seeing them more than necessary. Yes, he was worried about the girl, he protected her when he saw the bullies attacking her, but they had nothing in common. And the boy? He was just interested in following his, his strong quirk and his crowd of admirers. There was nothing close to friendship there.
He focused on his goal to enter UA. After all, it had been their dream, to Katsuki and him. He couldn't believe that Katsuki had given up on that too.
So, the two next years passed struggling to cheer himself, finding a new meaning his life without Katsuki, and trying to understand what he could have sowed to reap this blinding silence from the person he considered the most important of his life.

One day, finally, he woke up to the entrance exam. Izuku, full of hope, stood by the large doors of UA, way before the planned time. He was buzzing with an energy he had not felt for weeks, and was watching carefully the trickling students who, one by one, passed the doors. What if Katsuki had changed? Dyed his beautiful blonde hair? Wore sunglasses ? He didn't think he could miss him, even in a disguise, but there were so many things he had assumed that had proved wrong, he didn't want to take any chances. He entered the amphitheater last. None of the putative heroes there were Kacchan. Was there a way for him to have missed him? He found it hard to focus on the exam. The practical part wasn't that difficult to him, but his performance was subpar. He waited outside until the last examinee had left, to be absolutely sure, and walked towards his practical field to fight some robots. When the sun set, he took his bag and, head low, walked to the station. Katsuki had given up. He had really left him behind.

Katsuki ranked first in the exam for the high school of his choice. It was unique, as it allowed his best students to take the college exams after only two years instead of three. Few attenpted this very trying cursus, but those who achieved it could enter any college with flying colours. He had to give up the drums, restrain his aikido lessons to one a week and a full week-end a month. He basically forewent sleep and all kind of distractions. He absolutely loved it. So much work meant he had not time at all to think, mull about his old life or about his quirklessness. He took the habit of sleeping every time he could close his eyes, whether he was on public transportation, his bed of a bench outside. His relationship with his parents had improved a lot, even if he didn't see them much, being busy at the agency. He made new friends. Once, during a study session at the library, one of the girls commented.
"Wow, they're scary this year."
"Who?"
"The UA students, of course."
"Oh"
"Did you forget about the UA sports festival?"
"Kind of."
"Ha, ha, man, you're living under a rock, are you?"
Katsuki grunted, but asked nonetheless.
"Have you seen a Midoriya among them?" he asked suddendly.
"You're joking, right?"
"Fucking forget it."
He took his book and tried to concentrate on his lesson again. But the girl was not finished.
"You're talking about Izuku Midoriya, right? Strenghtening quirk and green hair?"
"What about him?"
"He ranked first!"
"Damn nerd."
The extras pestered him about Deku but he didn't say a word. As soon as the study session ended, he went home and opened a tab on his computer. There he was. Deku. Taller, broader, but with the same sparkling eyes, as he was not used to be a hero in training at all. Seeing him like that hurt a lot. In a more generous world, they would have both competited for this fucking first place, they would have rivalled constantly, pushing themselves to be better. It hurt... it hurt so much. He closed the tab. He would not settle for a second hand half baked dream when he had a future for himself to build. He promised to himself that building he would, from scratch, starting today.

Chapter Text

Izuku loved UA. After two years of brooding and staying alone, he looked forward to meet new people, and to, maybe, start new friendships. The students here were all strong, dedicated, focused. They would all be fantastic heroes. He felt so grateful. Sometimes he wondered why any of them could push him to his limits as Kacchan did effortlessly. As months went on, he had to work twice as much to feel accomplished, to know that he had given the last parcel of his will and his strenght. He still won the Sports Festival, though, by sheer force of dedication. On the evening after the event, back in his own room and exhausted, he wondered whether, somewhere, Kacchan would know of his deed. Maybe not. Kacchan was the embodiment of Plus Ultra and if he had decided to put his old life behind, he would do it without a single look back. Izuku still struggled to accept that. It was sickening to think that he may have been the reason Kacchan had to give up on UA and his hero dream.
Not two months had passed since the Sports Festival, and the class 1A had struggled through a grueling training, when Aizawa asked Izuku for a chat at the end of the classes. So he showered, changed, and walked to the 1A classroom, empty at this time of the day.
"Do you know why I summoned you today?" asked Aizawa without preamble.
"Because I was... hurt again, I suppose? Sorry, sensei, I don't exactly know."
"Sit down, that's going to take some time."
Izuku had learned to appreciate and even revere Aizawa. The teacher was strict, of course, but he always had the best in his line of sight. The mere idea of disappointing him made his insides churn painfully. He sat.
"You were hurt trying to protect Uraraka. Walk me through your your thoughts at this moment."
"Well... we were paired against Shoto and Tokoyami. I was supposed to drive Dark Shadow into the trap we had prepared, and then, I saw Uraraka stumble. She recovered quickly, but not quickly enough to avoid Shoto's attack. So, I jumped in front of the ice and made it explode with an air shot. Unfortunately, I took a spike of ice through my thigh. But at least, Uraraka was safe."
"And what about Tokoyami?"
"He fled. We had to switch to plan B"
"Right. So, please explain. The plan A you had devised, did Uraraka approve it?"
"Well... yes."
"so, I'm going to cut the chase, because I know you're bright Midoriya. What made you think it was acceptable to drop all plans to go help a partner who was perfectly capable to operate the situation by herself?"
"She was struggling. And I knew I could do... better, I think."
"Maybe. But didn't you agree beforehand to let her managing Shoto? Do you have so little trust in your partners that you have to jump at their aid at the first sign of struggle?"
"I..."
Izuku thought for a moment.
"Yes, I can see..."
"I'm talking to you now, Midoriya, because it's a constant in your teamwork. You're protective, and it's a good thing, because healthy partners are more likely to get work done. Don't quench this trait of your personality. But you're controlling too, you don't let them going through their own difficulties. You may think that, if you're hurt in exchange, it absolves you of your responsability, but it does not."
"I... have done that? A lot?"
"Constantly"
Izuku broke inside. It made perfect sense. He understood why Kacchan left. Kacchan whom he never let hold his own, even if he was perfectly capable, only disavantaged. Kacchan who had to work out tricky plans just to have a chance to settle his own fights.
"Controlling?" he asked, with a defeated voice. Aizawa nodded.
"That's what I said. I know it's harsh on you."
"Do you think I'm a bad person?"
For the first time, Aizawa looked annoyed.
"There's no such thing as a bad or a good person. That way of thinking will only blind you. There are only acts. I believe you acted upon kindness, but how is it relevant if your kindness hurt someone or hindered his or her development? You're young, malleable and eager to become better. That's why I point it to you. That's your main weakness. You need to understand what makes you acting this way, to learn not to take everything on your shoulders, to trust others more. And finally, not to put your judgment above others until you're absolutely sure that it is."
The last part was a terrible blow.
"My own judgment. I see. Il have done that all my life." he said in a blank voice.
"You may need some help and UA will provide. Just know that I believe in you. Don't start spiralling and rejecting everything you did now. Instead, try to go to the root of the problem, and imagine alternative actions.
"I'll present my apologies to Uraraka."
"That would be a good start."

Izuku was nothing but empathetic, and the realization of his flaws hit him hard. He kept reactivating the memories of all the moments where he had stripped Kacchan of his own choices. How ungrateful, how toxic had he been! He was offered, and then imposed counselling. Hound Dog, the school therapist, talked to him during long sessions, and Izuku bare his heart bigger than life, told him how he couldn't bear to see others hurt, how he couldn't withstand the pain of having his loved ones suffering. How coward of him. Step after step, the mutt patiently helped him navigate out of the self-hate zone, reminding him that he was still a child, allowed to make mistakes, especially when said mistakes came from repetition of learned behaviors. His mother had always been a bit overbearing.
"It's not about placing the blame on your mother, or on anyone, really. We're not playing a blame game here, son."
"But, if I had done differently, I would have not hurt him that much"
"You're looking for the grain of evil which contaminated your relationship with your Kacchan. But you won't find any, and looking for such an origin story is playing God, here. The universe, human relations, are imperfect, by nature. But they are forgiving too, they are mendable.
"How?"
"By keeping your eyes open. You have to learn to protect without hindering. One day, you may even have to protect by hindering, and you'll have to learn not to be guilty about that."
"And what about Kacchan?"
"Take care of yourself first. You'll know you'll be ready when the guilt won't weigh as heavy on you."
"Why? I don't understand."
"You still think that everything's your fault. That's why you feel so terrible now. Once you recognize you were a child in the flow of the river, and not the kami of the river itself, you'll feel lighter."
"And then?"
"Then, I'm probably not supposed to say so, but you'll be a formidable hero."
When Hound Dog brought him to this point, the first year was over and the second well on its track.

The last internship of this second year brought Izuku to an agency in Tokyo. He hesitated for a while, and finally asked his mother for any kind of information she could have on the Bakugo's whereabouts. She looked in a drawer and found a three years old address written on the back of an envelope.
"I'm not sure it's still valid, but you can try".
Tokyo was everything Izuku had been dreaming about, bustling, busy city that had swallowed Kacchan whole and never spit him out. The villains were swarming too, and he never got a dry moment until his first saturday, when his patrol ended early. Izuku took a shower at his agency and changed his clothes before heading to the hotel room he shared with Shinso, the other intern. The room was empty. He took the envelope out of his bag and considered the address. It was conveniently situated on the Yamanote Line. Without a phone number, he had no way to be sure, first, the Bakugos still lived there, second, that they would be happy to see him. After all, Katsuki never contacted him since his relocation. So what? One of them had to do the first step or they would never meet again. He was the hero, after all, he had no reason to act cowardly. He took his phone, a jacket, and walked to the next station.
The Bakugo's neighbourhood was nice, borderline posh. He showed the number to an izakaya lady, and she told him where to go. It was one of these tall buildings, with balconies lush with plants and large windows all over. And, of course, a code at the entrance. He stayed a moment, awkwardly waiting for somebody to let him in, when an athletic guy came out, carrying a junk bag.
"Looking for something, son?"
Yes, Izuku was still on the short side.
"I'm looking for Bakugo Katsuki. He lives there, right?"
"Bakugo? What do you want to do with the firecracker?"
Izuku was both relieved, amused by the nickname, fitting, and a bit anxious. The man was suspicious.
"I'm one of his..." he wanted to say 'friend', but it was a bit of a stretch. “Classmates”, he finished.
"Classmate? Sorry son, but since he modelled for this magazine, you're not the first 'classmate' wanting to get into this building."
"Modelled?"
The eyes of the guy softened.
"Don't tell me you didn't know? A classmate of his? Now, are you sure you know him?”
“I did. It was a long time since I last saw him.”
“Well, at this time, he's at the dojo. It's a big day for the firecracker, after all, and if you're really a classmate of his, old or new, he'll be happy to see you there."
He told him how to find the dojo with a good luck.
Dojo, big day? Izuku was a bit lost, but with the directions of the buff guy, he couldn't miss the traditional dojo, with a figure of a monkey painted at the entrance. He entered. A young woman was reading at the counter. Above her head, a Rikka style ikebana radiated its sweet perfume. She smiled and greeted him.
"I've been told Bakugo Katsuki was there today?"
"Oh yes, he's one of those taking their Kuys today. Dan, I should say."
"Dan?"
"His first. There's a gallery where you can watch, but please be quiet."
"Of course."
She showed him the door and he was immediatly assailed by the smell of dust, bamboo and sweat, and an air of tension.
He tiptoed to an empty chair and looked at the dojo. And there, was Katsuki, unmistakable, with his crown of fair hair, kneeled in the center of the room white dogi bounded by a white sash. At the sides, men and women of all ages, sat, waiting for an order. The sensei, short and bald, was watching closely.
"Start" he ordered, and immediatly, two senior sprang, attacking Katsuki one from the side, the other from the back. Izuku had to suppress the urge to launch himself in the battle, and resorted to tap his fingers on his thighs, but Katsuki did not need help. The first two attackers flew a few meters away, their dark hakamas deployed like oversized butterflies. The sound of their limbs slamming against the tatami was startling, but the senior didn't lose a second before springing again into action. And then there were three, but none of them could land a hit on Katsuki, being sent flying over his head. Izuku was fascinated by his way of shifting, knees sliding over the tatami with invisible movements too late to avoid when they reached the legs. His intense eyes were focused somewhere inside his head, but somewhat, he looked like he didn't need to watch anything. How could he think he was ever above this boy?
The breaths became shorter, loud in the attentive silence of the crowd. With a short command, the master halted the fight, or the exercise, Deku wasn't sure, and Katsuki walked to the edge of the tatami to take his boken. He positionned himself in front of the master, and a beautiful woman in a hakama, radiating confidence, a similar wooden ken in hand, came and they both bowed low. For a moment, Izuku wondered what was happening, when he saw the woman placing herself on guard, when Kacchan was simply resting his boken at his side. Then she attacked so swiftly he hardly saw the movement, but Katsuki wasn't there any more, when did he left? And the tip of his ken had stopped at one centimeter of her brow. And there were at it again. Izuku found it hard to follow the movements, the hakama hiding efficiently the feet of the, evidently very skilled woman. Was it a fight? Was it a ballet? It looked like they were dancing, going back and forth on the tatami. He could hear their feet brushing the floor, labored breaths, the rustling of the fabric. Katsuki's hair had gone wild, his skin was pink with effort, and he wore a delighted smirk, as if this fight was everything he had always wanted. Maybe it was. A man hit the tatami and sprang, boken in hand, to pick up and the woman returned in the ranks of the kneeled seniors. Then another one, and Katsuki was fighting two adversaries. His brow was glinting with sweat, but his focus only improved. He parried a first, made the second stepping back, mimicked cutting one's head and planting his ken on the other's belly. With a word from the master, the fight ceased. The fighters came to kneel in front of the little bald man and bowed deep.
Izuku's heart was hammering. He had found Kacchan again, and Kacchan had become this incredible specimen of a human being. How could he even believe that Kacchan needed his protection? That he needed... him? He felt lead leaking in his stomach, immediatly quelling his former joy. Aizawa had been right about him. He stood as quickly and as silently as possible and left without a word. He had his eyes open, now, but only to contemplate how much work he had to accomplish before he could consider befriending Katsuki again.

Chapter Text

Katsuki was feeling great. Really, really great. All his friends from school or from the dojo had celebrated with him his first dan. And what first dan had it been ! The sempais had gone all out on him, generously giving him all their strenght, their skills, allowing him to be the best he could be. Yes, he had made mistakes. First dan meant he was only a beginner, after all. But he had all his life to become good. He pulled his reeking dogi out of his bag and directly put it in the washing machine. Next, he'd go purchase his hakama, and wear it proudly on the tatami.
He went to the kitchen and started cooking. His parents were extra busy with the new collection, but they promised they would come home not too late to celebrate with him. His relationship with them had improved a lot, so much that he even had accepted to do some modelling for them, a way to spend a bit more time with them and to show his gratitude for their support. Of course, modelling came with drawbacks, such as people coming at him after classes to ask for his number. There even had been some stalking, what the fuck? He didn't even think he was THAT good looking, people were just starved.

Things were finally settling for him. His anger had simmered, and with the pacification of his feelings, he could feel the loss and the desire again. He missed Deku. He could not help thinking about him, in a way he had not felt since years. How he would have loved to have Deku here, on this very important day for him. How he would have wanted to show him that there was another way to them that Deku doing all the protecting and Katsuki letting him. He shook his head and stopped the fire under the pan. Why did he even think about that now? He was the asshole who left without a word, ending years of friendship. Deku had only ever been kind to him. He was the one mistaking his amiability for condescension. After all, he had no right to complain about how Deku's absence left a hole in his heart that no amount of work or accomplishments seemed to fulfill.

Only one week later he aced the exam for the best medical school in Japan. He got to enter one year earlier than usually admitted, but as he was almost 18, the age gap would make few difference.

Medical school proved to be grueling. Days and nights scrolled by, trying to make a dent on the exceptionnaly large amount of necessary knowledge. And then, there was the practical part. The crudeness of being acquainted to bodies and their functions. The corpses they had to casually dissect, the smell of all kind of fluids. In the first months, they got used to students bursting out in tears in the middle of a classroom, or resigning silently, face pale and shame written on their posture. Those who stayed learned to stick together, helping each other when yesterday's sick person was today's casualty, or when the smell of vomit blended with disinfectant was too much to bear. They had parties every friday evening at the frat house, where they could vent, drink, shout, drink again and cry a lot. Eventually they started having sex, first only as a way to blow off some steam, and later as a way to reconcile themselves with their own bodies, after seeing so many of them sick, dead, or just plain ugly.
They all learned a lot about themselves in these late-night orgies, giving, taking. Katsuki quickly experienced the fact that he could have sex in any way possible, with women, with men, being the giver or the receiver. Some couples, after a while, became exclusive, but Katsuki never found any sort of connection with anyone. It took him a few months to learn everything that was possible about having sex. But it took him years to realize that the physical intimacy did never lead him to develop something deeper. He never fell in love, and even never liked anyone. But sometimes, when he woke up early in the morning, sounding out the bed, the couch, or the carpet? To know which body he had embraced last, he coud not stop himself to stop longing for green eyes, soft voice and unconditional love.

Four years passed that way. Izuku was a hero now, and had been a sidekick for three years, in Hawks agency. Katsuki had glimpses of his life from time to time. He had shuddered the first time he heard of his hero name. Deku, the mean nickname he had given him. Unsettled, he had googled "Why has Hero Deku chose this name" and had found at least ten Touyube videos of the same interview in which the young sidekick said, in a mild voice, how a dear friend from his childhood had given this name to him, and how it had always sounded an inspiring name to him. At the third minute of the video, he had looked straight in the camera lens, saying "It's a name that reminds me that you're not what you're born to be, you're only what you choose to be, day after day. I didn't know that, way back then, I'll never forget it again. This name is there to help, if needed."
The words were the exact ones, he knew, he had watched the video three times in a round, and he had, at this point, a very good memory. What he didn't know is whether the words were addressed do him or if he was just imagining things. Izuku had probably moved on long ago and just found it an alluring story to keep the media entertained.

The fifth year was an important landmark in their studies, as the students were sent to internships for more than half of their time. As hospitals didn't allow the students to perform direct examinations, most of them turned towards hero agencies which were in dire need of resident medics and didn't care much whether they were beginners in the field. So, if a bit reluctantly, Katsuki took his first internship at Endeavor's agency. The former n°1 hero had retired, and the agency had been taken over by his son, Shoto. In his wake, more ice users had joined the agency, but the fire users were still the majority, which made it among the medical students a beacon for the learning of treating all kind of burns. Moreover, Katsuki knew Natsuo Todoroki well enough, him being an upperclassman of his who had graduated two years ago, but still was doing shifts at the school's clinic.
Shoto received him for his first day. He was more aloof and intimidating than his easy going brother. He was, too, very young. Katsuki had kept himself as far as possible from hero world and did know very few of the infamous class 1A, which explained why he was surprised. He bowed curtly.
“Thank you for choosing our agency. I can see you're on top of your class.”
“s'good experience being there. One can't get enough.”
“Yes, sure.”, answered Shoto, a bit put off by the lack of manners of the medical student. “I see you're quirkless. So, what's your way of treating injuries?”
“There's this thing called medicine” grunted Katsuki, barely refraining from adding an unwelcome 'asshole' at the end of his sentence. He went on. “That's the whole point of going through all these years of learning and training. The body is not made with interchangeable parts, that you can discard once they're fucked-up. Health is a process, and you can't maintain it without having a full knowledge of how it works.” Shoto nodded, and Katsuki talked again. “There is a reason why the top five students at school have no quirks, or quirks unrelated to medicine. Yes, having a quirk that sews back the flesh or consolidate the bones is pretty useful. But mastering these quirks takes time, and this time is not spent in learning how the rest of the body works. Quirk users are the technicians, here, when the doctors rely on their brains.”
It wasn't the first time Katsuki was challenged on his practice as a quirkless, but it was the first time he offered a full and honest answer. He looked straight into Shoto's eyes, daring him to contradict, but Shoto only smiled.
“You advocate yourself quite well, and I wouldn't dare saying a word against the quirkless myself, after hearing so many lectures on the valor of them from a classmate of mine.”
There seemed to be some kind of inside joke here, that Katsuki didn't get, but the soft smile on Shoto's face incited him to let go.
“Anyway, you may take it the wrong way, but I have to ask all the same.
“Shoot” said Katsuki.
“How do you feel about being on the field?”
“What do you mean?”
“We sometimes have these big operations when heroes go all out. It's not the job of doctors, or first responders to fend for themselves, but occasionnaly, things get out of hand. So, we try to bring there only people who can take care of themselves. Meaning, not the old ones, neither the unfit ones. Or...”
“Or the quirkless?”
“That was the policy, yes.”
“And you want to change it or not?”
“Tell me. Should I?”
Katsuki took some time to think.
“Tis is stupid” he finally said. “And you know that. It's not about the quirk. It's about what you expect from the medical team during a dangerous situation. Being able to keep a levelled head should come first. Then, the ability to run fast and far. And, probably, the ability to run while carrying a pair of injured people on one's back.”
Shoto tilted his head, interested. His question had only been rhetorical, but the honesty and sharp mind of the medical student had turned it into a brainstorming session. The student was not finished, though.
“Did your agency develop any kind of passive protection for the injured and the medical staff? Because I doubt you get enough people with shield quirks to protect efficiently the workers.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why relaying on quirks when a simple portable shield -make it fireproof too- would probably secure more people, civilians and first responders alike?”
“You thought about it a lot, didn't you?”
“Absolutely not. I'm not a hero and I don't plan on becoming one. But you asked a simple question, so I gave you a simple answer.”
“I see.”
“What do you see?”
“It's as my friend said. We're so well trained in thinking quirks are awesome that we forget that tools of craft are equally awesome. So, I take it as a yes for field work?”
“I'm on my way to become a doctor to save lives. I'm here to gain experience on this matter. You think I'll back down?”

Katsuki ended not only being part of the field team, but reframing its policy with the help of the support department of the agency. His quick draft of a portable shield was submited to the head engineer who made a few specimen. Working for a hero agency was duller than expected. Burns, sparring injuries, quirk overuse and the occasional flesh wound from a vicious villain were his daily life, spiced by the earfuls he gave to the heroes for their recklessness. On the third week, though, he braced himself for a big operation he had to attend. He checked in before dawn. Being a simple medic intern, he was not prior of all the information, but he could tell it was a very unusual one. Most of the agency's heroes and sidekicks were already there, all geared in their multicouloured suits, like a buzzing swarm of butterflies. He put on his white blouse only marked by the agency logo on the armband, took his backpack, surrendered his phone for a communicator tuned on the agency wavelenght and let himself be led into the back of an inconspicuous vehicle. He couldn't see a thing, but when they stopped and opened the doors, he was hit by the smell of sea, fish and algae. The harbor. Two first responders were already busy planting a tent and laying the ground for first aid. A sidekick, accompanied by another medic greeted him.
“Bakugo, this is...”
“Sakana... I mean, Sagara. I know him, we're in the same school.”
“Good. He interns with Ingenium agency, which helps us today. Take a pair of the new shields each and come with me.”
They were in a shabby part of the port, busy at this early hour, with mariners wearing headbands driving small carts laden with boxes of fresh fish. Nobody spared them a second glance when they entered an old looking container.
“You'll stay here for the moment”, instructed the sidekick, “keep your communicators open.” He showed them a one way window on the side of the container, “we are trying to bust traffickers, a delivery is expected today. But they're heavily armed and we don't expect things to go smoothly. That's why you are here. Shoto said you were capable to handle yourselves in dangerous situations, but don't get in trouble and end like any other liability.” His gaze strayed on Katsuki who refrained from sneering. “Anyway. As soon as the delivery will start, the heroes will surround the traffickers. They are expected on the warehouse you can see just across here. This container has been fireproofed, and should resist medium force. If things get heated, you're expected to withdraw. Don't go out until asked by heroes or sidekicks. But then, be fast. You're here to save lives, any lives, heroes, civilians, villains. Are you good?”
They agreed and the sidekick left the container. The two interns looked tensely at each other.
“let's do this”.
Sakana, “fish” was an upperclassman, whose quirk made him secrete the glutinous-like substance that covered the actual fish. It could be used to help the skin regenerate in case of severe burns, but that was the extent to its uses. Most of the times, he wore an anti-quirk collar to avoid smelling fish all day long. He was a quiet, but determined individual.
Two solid hours were spent doing nothing but being silent, watching through the windows and seeing nothing.
And then, hell broke loose. Without even a warning, there was a glacier standing where the pier had been, firearms were set off and actual fires lit everywhere. There were shouts, calls, creaks. Their radio was buzzing with information and suddendly, a call was made.
“Medic team, need first help 50 meters north, quick”
“I'm the senior I'll go” said Sakana before taking his own backpack and rushing outside.
“Take two shields!”
Sakana did that and Katsuki saw him disappear by the door and running to his saving mission.
He stayed alone. It didn't look like the situation was under the control of heroes. Katsuki could see another glacier sprouting from nowhere, and remembered when he had last seen that : on the video of the sports festival. Shoto had been Deku's opponent. He couldn't deny his quirk was quite the impressive one.
For a moment, smoke and ice masked totally his view and Katsuki seethed. He hoped Sakana was safe, and saving his patient. And then, the container shaked. Katsuki was projected on the other side and could only watch when a... villain? thrice his size was tearing its metal as if it was a can of aluminium. He steadied himself on his knees, harnessed his pack on his shoulders and prepared to fly at the first occasion. The villain then sent his hand inside. He jumped over it, unfastened the door and sprang outside.
He ran to the nearest construction, but the monster was already at his heels. He changed directions twice, and in a frenzy, looked for a place that would have him safe without endangering the civilians. The glacier. He turned again, but the villain, blessed with oversized legs, was too fast. Katsuki was strangely not afraid. He didn't have time to. He reached the glacier half a second before the villain and rolled between two spikes of ice. The villain stopped just in time to avoid impaling himself and he snarled at Katsuki who smirked in return.
“What, stupid? Not even able to take down a doctor? What kind of gigantic oaf are you?”
All his taunting could not hide the fact that his situation was dire. What were the damn heroes doing? He saw the giant raising a fist that would probably be hard to avoid, and took the best guard position. He waited the blow, but nothing came. Some kind of black tendril was restraining the villain's hand. He lifted his eyes and saw, at last, a hero. Airborne in a teal costume, he was working hard to constrict the villain without actually harming him. The villain had seen him too and turned a furious look. Katsuki didn't wait and fled. The hero was doing well anyway. But then, there was a surprised shout and the hero tumbled. Katsuki looked around. What was happening? Then he saw her, the asshole, hidden behind a cart. She was pointing at the hero with the most common of firearms. She fired a second or a third time and the hero flinched. His grip on his tendrils loosened. Katsuki saw red. He took his scalpel out of his bag, silently walked to the woman and kicked her before she could fire again. Disarmed, she tried to punch him, but she wasn't even half as good at the 5th kyu back in the dojo. He avoided easily, restrained her and, for good measure, showed her the extremely sharp scalpel. She slackened. Chirurgical instruments had sometimes this effect on people. He did not lose more time, ripped her own clothes to tie her and watched the airborne hero. The man looked at him and a mutual recognition passed in their eyes.
“Deku!”
He saw his lips moving, and he could swear he had heard a small “Kacchan” but that couldn't be true. The villain had taken advantage of his weakness and was drawing him by his own tendrils. Deku let go, and his control on his airborne... quirk? Seemed to fade too. He started falling, caught up, and fell again. Grinning, the villain made a move and shouted in disgust when another glacier engulfed him, actively imprisoning him in a merciless cold jail.
Katsuki ran closer to Izuku and when he just under him he shouted:
“Let go!”
Izuku spared him one glance, closed his eyes and fell. Katsuki received him in his arms, bloodied, battered, but alive.

Chapter Text

Of all the ways Katsuki had imagined to be reunited with Izuku again, the man landing in his arms mid-battle had never been part of the picture. Katsuki could tell he had controlled his fall to the last moment. Fortunately. He was still nearly crushed under the weight. All this muscle weighed a ton. The eyes of the hero flickered and closed. Katsuki adjusted him and looked for an escape route.
“Bakugo!” called Shouto. He turned his head. The hero was on top of his own glacier, finger pointing west.
“Two hundred meters this direction. The police is there”
Nodding, he started running.
He didn't reach the two hundred meters score. At the sudden stillness of Deku in his arm, he new something was amiss. He nearly dropped him on the floor and looked for a pulse. There was none. Frantically, he tore Deku's costume and started CPR. The hero's lips had gone blue and Katsuki let go a string of curses. He heard footsteps behind him and could only hope this was not a villain. A moment later, a sidekick was kneeling at his side.
“What's wrong? Can I help? Should I carry him.”
Katsuki showed him his backpack.
“Defibrillator inside. Set this thing for me.”
He could tell the sidekick was trained in emergency situations, because he didn't ask for more directions and started immediatly unfolding the material. When he was ready, Katsuki stopped the CPR and applied the electrodes on the muscular chest. There was a very nasty scar there. The first spark brought Izuku's heart back to life, and breath inside Katsuki's lungs. He watched as the hero's eyes fluttered and landed on him. He took his sthetoscope out of his bag and plugged it in his ears. The sound of the beating heart could have been music to his ears, but for its lingering irregularity. He frowned. Izuku's voice broke the silence. An eery voice, lightheaded, still deeper that the one he remembered.
“How long have you been a doctor Kacchan?”
“Not a doctor yet. Still in training.”
“Ah. I'm...”
“Don't worry, I won't let you die here, I know what I'm doing”
“No I...” Izuku took a hard breath, his hand clutched at his heart. “I'm sorry Kacchan.”
“What are you sorry about, now. You're not on right mind, you shouldn't talk.” rebuffed Katsuki.
“No, I'm clear headed. I think. I'm really sorry. For... you know. Being such a pain in the ass, back then.”
“What? You're apologizing for when we were children? When I was the one leaving without saying goodbye?” He opened his bag again but halted when Izuku tried to sit. He put his hand on his chest
“Stay still Deku. I'm trying to resuscitate you, here, don't make it harder.”
“Resuscitate?”
“You're not aware? Your heart stopped for a minute.
Izuku stayed silent, trying to process. Katsuki talked again.
“I can't see an injury, there. Where were you shot?”
“Shot?”
Katsuki took a lamp and examined the hero's pupils.
“Not concussed. But shocked, of course.”
“I'm not shocked, Kacchan.”
“Of course you are. You've just been brought from the dead and you don't even know what happened. I'll have to undress you, but first...”
He took a blanket and deployed it on Izuku's body.
“I'm not shocked, Kacchan. I remember what happened. There was this sniper.”
“She shot you at least twice.”
“The first one grazed my arm. I could avoid the second.”
“Then...”
Izuku tried to sit up again, and Katsuki growled.
“Stop doing that! Where are you hurt?”
“I'm not.”
“You are. Hearts do not stop middle fight because you sneezed too hard or anything. If you can't tell, it's worse. I'm calling the ambulance.”
“I'll do it” said the sidekick who immediatly started talking in his communicator.
“You can't Kacchan! I'm fine, I can help the others.”
“No you're not, dumb Deku! Aren't you going to listen to me, for once?”
Izuku who looked ready to argue again suddendly closed his mouth, stricken with guilt.
“Sorry. Sorry Kacchan.”
“Shut up.”
A few moments later, Sakana was there with a stretcher and they both carried a very quiet Deku to safety, under the sidekick's vigilant watch. The battle had subsided, the heroes having at last managed to get hold of most of the traffickers, it didn't mean all danger was averted.
Katsuki looked at the ambulance's door closing on the hero and childhood friend. Deku would receive there first class treatment at the hero hospital, better than anything he could provide with just a backpack of supplies and the hard ground for a mattress. Something was nagging at him, though. He didn't like at all the turn of events.
Both Sakana and him worked until the sunset, taking care of the heroes, and then lurking around to get to the victims of the battle. The villains had tried to set their warehouse on fire to hide any evidence of their trafficking, and many people had been burned or intoxicated before Shoto could come and extinguish the fire with another of his glaciers. This man was a fucking swiss knife.

The next day at the agency was very slow, with only a few heroes on the field, all the others busy debriefing or writing their reports of the operation. Katsuki finished his early and was allowed to go back home. Since Shoto had taken over Endeavor's agency, he had established a sane attitude towards extra work, always allowing its employees enough rest after a mission. It made sense : errors happened when the operatives were tired. So, at seven, showered, wearing a linen uncollared white shirt under an aviator bomber, he entered the frat house of his school. The friday parties had turned far more tamed during their fourth year, as their first shocking experiences had slowly turned into routine, but there was still drinking going on and sex wasn't off the table, even for some established couples. He was greeted enthusiastically by Camie, a tall blonde that too many people, including him at the beginning, mistook for a simpleton, because she never showed off and had a genuine curiosity over everything. She proved to be a good friend, far more clever that what people gave her credit for, and with quite the high sex-drive.
“Bakugo! It's been a while. Where were you when we were drinking and crying?”
“Have you been crying, now?” he answered, unmoved.
“No. Up for more, this evening? It's been a while since I got a taste of these abs.”
“Well, not really.”
“Just talking?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I won't say it's not a bit disappointing, you being the best dick of the class, but anyway. I won't hinder my future chances by too much complaining.”
“Flattering me won't lead you anywhere, Camie”
“I know. What's going on with you? You seem... in one of these moods.”
“Nothing. Just... I ran into an old friend.”
“Really? Are we about to get a bit of your personal info you NEVER share?”
“There's nothing to tell, that's why. But tell me, heart specialist..”
“What kind of heart speciality are you talking about? The organ or the romance?”
“Organ”
“I should have known” she pouted.
“Why ask then? It's about a patient. Had a heart attack during some action.”
“What kind of action?”
“Not what you're thinking about”
“I'm starting to regret talking to you at all.”
“Come on, Camie, I need answers, there.” sighed katsuki.
“All ears.”
“Good. The heart stopped for a minute. Went back to work after some CPR and a single shock. No trace of a serious injury. Patient had a bit swollen abdomen and a raw voice.”
“Pericarditis.
“That's what I thought too.”
“Bloodwork?”
“It was on the field. I sent him to the hospital. I hope they did the things right.”
“Or they just applied some superficial treatment and sent him straight back. You should make it sure”
“Over an old doctor when I'm not even a full fledged one?”
“I know.”
They both sipped on their drinks.
“Make sure this one's cared about. I don't know the whole story, and I won't ask, but if it bothers you enough to prevent you from a very good fuck, you won't be able to brush it away if it turns nasty.”

On monday, Katsuki asked to meet Shoto and luckily, the hero did not make him wait. He entered the big office that had been Endeavor's. It was mostly an impersonal place, with cabinets full of files, a water fountain and a generic tray of tea, but on the desk, quasi invisible for the visitor, was a picture of three students in a UA uniform. There was Shoto, Creati and... was it Deku? Yes it was. Katsuki felt sad. Was he really over his dream of going to UA and being a hero himself? He thought he had. But him avoiding the hero world, hero news and hero worshipping spoke differently. He hardened himself.
“Did you read my report?” He asked.
“Yes,” said Shoto, with more emotion in his voice that he ever heard the hero using. "You saved my friend's life. Why didn't you tell me that you were the Kacchan he was constantly talking about?”
“What? The nerd talked about me?” Again, he felt guilty. He had never told his own friends about Deku.
“At lenght.” said Shoto with a shadow of a smile.
“Well, glad we're on the same page, then. I sent him to the hospital, but I got no updates on his health.”
“That's expected... hospitals don't transfer the files, unless it's to the registered doctors of their patients.”
“Which I am not, I'm aware. But is there a way to get... some news?”
“There's this thing called patient confidentiality, but I can tell you he was discharged on the evening. He had no major injuries, so he was seen by a healer and sent back home”
Katsuki started fuming. He knew. He just knew.
“He was not fine. He died for a minute, there, as I'm sure you read thoroughly. That should have been enough to warrant him a full check-up.”
Shoto smiled a bit wider.
“As you met Midoriya prior, you'll know how stubborn he is. If he doesn't want to be checked, he won't.”
“Damn nerd! He told everyone he was fine, and everybody swallowed it like good dogs! But he wasn't!”
This time, Shoto frowned.
“Why wouldn't he be?”
“Can't tell. Patient confidentiality, as you said yourself.”
“But it is... serious? You know, if you just want to meet with Midoriya again I can...”
“What? You think I'm just...? To get his number or anything? Are you...” Katsuki was usually eloquent and well spoken. But indignation was making him losing speech.
“It's serious, then” said softly Shoto. “You know, I always thought Midoriya was not totally truthful to his friends about his health.”
“Good thing I'm a doctor, then. I'm going to force some medicine upon his throat.”
“You kow you can't do that.”
“Of course I know. Why do you think medicine schools educate us during six years?”
“Fair enough. I can't promise you I'll bring him with hands tied for his check-up, but I'll do what I can.”

Katsuki was applying burn cream on the arms of Burnin' (who once again overworked herself) when he received a message from Shoto. Izuku had been sent in a mission and would not be back until thursday. Katsuki seethed. He spent the next days glued to hero news, to get, at least, a glimpse of Izuku's state. He didn't. His mission was an undercover one. That, or he was in a coma somewhere, and the all mission was a scam. But would they lie to Shoto too?

Thursday came and went with no news. On friday, Katsuki walked into the dispensary office, opened the cupboard of files and took out the box for the letter “mi”. Every hero had an emergency file, both digital and paper, filing the vital info, persons to contact in case of emergency, allergies, preconditions, contact. If he was right, Izuku's one had not been disposed of since the last collaboration. Katsuki had absolutely no right to look inside, save for emergencies. And who could say it was an emergency? He was just worried about his estranged childhood friend, and was breaking his vows for this. He gritted his teeth and searched the box. There it was. Midoriya Izuku. His phone number had stayed the same, and he smiled sadly at this little bit of information he could have used it during all this time. Registered contact : Midoriya Inko, Todoroki Shoto. Mother, best friend. He noticed that Inko had moved to a nicer place. To be closer to her son? He looked at the info he was looking for. Address. It was an apartment in Hosu. He closed his eyes to check he remembered the number correctly and put the box back in the cupboard.
He left the agency at his normal time, but instead of taking the underground to go back home, he boarded into the Hosu's train. It was already dark when he arrived there. The apartment was only a ten minutes walk from the station, he used them to rehearse his speech, only to abandon as nothing seemed to work. Finally, he was in front of the door, and still didn't know what to say, how to justify being there, unannounced at this time of the day. But it felt right. For the first time in a very long period, he felt he was doing the right thing. He knocked.

Chapter Text

“Kacchan?”
“I went into the infirmary after hours, I searched the confidential files that nobody is allowed to look at, I broke all my vows to find you, so you better let me in or have me fired, your choice shitty Deku” blurted Kacchan in a single breath. Well, that's not what he had expected to say first, but he was neither a liar nor a coward.
“Come in,” answered quietly Deku. Katsuki hesitated. That's what he wanted, right?
Izuku's flat was small and somewhat quaint, with big armchairs of grey corduroy, a nice kokatsu and many framed pictures on the walls. Inko must have had a say in the embellishment. Izuku himself was a bit on the pale side and Katsuki wondered if he had worried him, and if he thought he was unhinged.
“I was about to have tea. Do you want some? There's enough for two. I probably have mochi somewhere too. Uraraka always brings me lots and I never eat them all in one go.”
“I didn't come to Hosu just to have tea and mochi, Deku.”
Izuku chuckled.
“I guess. But it's ready. It won't take a minute, and then I'm all yours.”
The formulation sounded weird at Katsuki's ears, but he sat and let Izuku pour him a nice brand of steaming green tea in a delicate hand crafted goblet, blue with hints of green.
“So?”
“I heard you were discharged from the hospital on the day of the battle. And... that you went on a mission after that. If it was a mission.”
“Why wouln't it be a mission, Kacchan? I don't get it.”
“What you don't get is that you shouldn't have worked so early. And, if I'm right, but I need more data, you shouldn't work at all.”
This time, Izuku frowned.
“You'll have to explain yourself. Do you think I wasn't treated at the hospital? Because I was.”
“No you were not.”
“How can you say that?” said Izuku in a tense tone, in which Katsuki could detect some notes of guilt.
“Deku, you had no injury, the bullets only grazed you.”
“Exactly!”
“You should have never gone on cardiac arrest for the level of strain you were in.”
“How do you know about the level of strain I was in?” asked Izuku, defensive.
“What are you hiding?”
“And what are you trying to tell me?”
“At last, a valid question.” sighed Katsuki. “The answer is not easy. When I went under the procedure to resuscitate you, I saw the scar you got on your chest.”
“Yes, and..”
“Let me finish. People aged 22 don't have heart attacks from just doing their jobs. At first, I was at a loss, and really scared you'd die on me without me even knowing why. Then, I noticed a few things. Your voice was strained. Still is. Understandable, of course, you were just out of the world of the dead, you couln't be expected to sing like a robin. But it gave me the first string and after that it was easy, all the signs were there. I won't make a fucking list for you, but I think, I'm not sure, but sure enough to put my job on the line for it, that you suffer from a kind of cardiopathy, Deku.”
“That's just the consequences of this old injury Kacchan. I'm aware. I just have to deal with it”
Deku's voice was tense, as if Kacchan was not the one he was trying to convince.
“Who told you that?”
“Someone... some time ago.”
“Deku, they're wrong. Or... I think so. I can't tell with the quick examination I did on you on the field. Let me do it properly.”
“Why?”
“Because if I'm not wrong, what you're suffering from is perfectly curable, with the right treatment and enough rest. But if you go on just ignoring it, your heart will fail. It failed once, already. Next time you won't have a doctor at hand and you'll die. Please. I'm not just making that up.”
There was a long silence. Izuku was sipping on his tea, his freckles more apparent with the palor of his skin, a tormented expression on the face.
“Why, Kacchan? How can you be sure?” He coughed a little.
“As I told you, I'm not. I'm not trying to bribe you or anything. So far, let's say it's just an intuition even if I hate this word. We don't cure people with intuitions or signs from the afterlife. But you need a diagnostic. Bloodwork, electrocardiogram, the jazz. So you know and go on with your heroic life without the risk of dropping dead any second.”
Deku shook his head.
“Kacchan, you broke your vows and you came all the way... just for me? Why?”
“Why? You have the nerve to ask? You want me to let you die just because you're a stupid nerd who can't take care of himself? Did you see an actual doctor? And if it was the case, were you truthful?”
Katsuki caught a hint of shame painted on Izuku's features. The pinkness gave his pale face a healthier colour, and he craved to see more of it. The little nerd had been impressive during his battle. And now, he was sick and vulnerable. It made some things to Katsuki's entrails.
“I thought I just had to weather everything. I... I still can't believe it.”
Katsuki's heart constricted. Of course, the nerd would not believe the quirkless undergraduate. What did he thought? But at least, he had anticipated this outcome.
“And you don't trust me, I get it. But you have a personal doctor? Go to him and tell him. Tell him to look for a pericarditis. Tell him you googled it or something. He'll laugh, but as long as he operates the real search, we're good.”
“No, Kacchan, of course I trust you!” spurted Izuku. “Nobody ever broke into an infirmary for me before! Or took the train just to tell me to take care of my health. I... I just have trouble to process everything. It's... health is... a bit of a sore point for me. Usually, I just look away and let the healers perform their magic.”
Katsuki's breath eased.
“Not very brave of you, nerd.”
“I know. What are the signs?”
“Most of them are pretty generic. Tiredness, nausea, cough, fever... could be anything. But then, the swelling of the abdomen and of the legs, the existence of a prior injury are more serious giveaways. There are signs that you can hear while listening the heart, of course.”
“Please examine me.”
“You sure?”
“Yes! Well... can you do it... with clothes on?”
“Are you dumb, Deku?”
“I'm not, but... “
“But what? I'm a doctor. I've lost count of all the people of all genders I have seen naked. dead or alive you might add.”
“Well, yes... but. Okay, I'm gay, Kacchan. I'm okay with getting undressed in front of a doctor, but being examined by your hot childhood friend at home? It just does not feel the same!”
“You think I'm hot?” smirked Katsuki. Izuku hid himself under his arms.
“Oh no, yes of course, you are! Don't you know already?”
Katsuki laughed openly, and Izuku's insides churned.
“I do! I was called the best dick of my class only last week. And, if you need to know, I'm bi. Or probably pan. Anyway, I can find all bodies attractive, even little hot nerd's ones, but I don't when I examine them.” His face softened. “But I get it. I've broken enough rules to keep you alive. I won't pressure you anymore as long as I can deliver you to a proper doctor, with the right diploma. And maybe the right gender too. Do we have an understanding?”
Izuku bit his lower lip. Understanding? That was an eery choice of words. He had let Katsuki thinking he didn't trust his abilities. All that because he was awkward with his body. It was far from a mutual understanding. What could he say to clear the air? He removed his hoodie.
“What are you doing?”
“I'm stupid. Do it.”
“No.”
“I trust you, Kacchan. I'm sorry for acting like a blushing virgin. Which I'm not, by the way. But I want you to examine me.”
“Nope, I won't. You're right about one thing, I've broken enough rules for now. Examining you at home wouldn't be professional at all.” Kacchan's voice was a bit defeated.
“You... “
“I'll take you to the school's clinic. If you want. It's where young doctors work outside their hours to get to know the job. Under supervision of teachers. We have the material, here, instruments, imagery, everything. And a laboratory, too. You can see anyone you want there. Just promise me you'll go tomorrow.”
“Okay. I'll go with you. But please, stay with me this evening.”
“Why?”
“Medical procedures make me nervous. A heart disease is terrifying. There's no way I'll be able to sleep after that. So, please, indulge me, and let me have your company. I'll provide dinner.”

Katsuki relented and Izuku ordered a large tray of sushi. Izuku had so many questions, hut he harnessed his curiosity to let Katsuki adjust. When the last of the sushi disappeared in his friend's mouth, he dimmed the lamps, lighted a pair of candles, and made some more tea. The conversation was now flowing naturally between them, Katsuki offering little bits of information about himself.
“Really, ikebana? Drums I could have guessed, but flowers?”
“It's art, stupid! You build your lines, like on a canvas, there's the earth one, the sky one, and you try to make a world, with its beauties and its ugliness. The hard part is to find a purpose.”
“A purpose on what?”
“The result. What does your ephemeral world says about the real one? What does it says TO the real one? I loved to use thistles and everything with thorns.”
Izuku laughed.
“I took dance lessons, when I was at UA. For the festival. I was so bad at first, even you wouldn't believe it.”
“How bad?”
“The highest level of ridiculousness bad. But then, I understood that dancing or fighting were just about having the body at the right place on the right time. And it all clicked. It felt so simple after that!”
It was only later, when the candles were almost burned and they were both snuggled under blankets in the surprisingly comfortable corduroy armchairs, that Izuku confessed.
“I came to see you, once.”
“Ah?”
“I had this internship in Tokyo, in my second year at UA. I asked my mum for an address. You weren't at home, but a guy told me to find you at the dojo with the monkey on the front.”
“It was the day of my first dan, was it?”
“Yeah. How do you know?”
“Kitamura told me and old classmate of mine asked for me that day. And my friends from school spoke about this nerd who came silently and left as silently. I didn't think it could be true, though. Why didn't you stay?”
“I wanted to. But... I was so angry about you, then. For leaving, for not contacting me. And I had tried to get better, less... controlling. That's the words of my teacher, not mine. He was right, but I couldn't see it myself then. And when I saw you... it made me understand how much I had missed. You were... amazing. Incredible. I was mesmerized, really. And. Well. Suddendly, I knew I wasn't ready to see you yet. I was on a long path and I had only trodden a fraction. It was sobbering, but here I am, and I don't regret it now.”
“I watched you too. Sometimes. On your first sports festival, everybody was gushing about this Midoriya Izuku with his perfect quirk, so... I watched. But after that, I spent years avoiding every mention of UA students on the news. I was jealous, I guess. And guilty. It ate me from inside, knowing that I left you so brutally.”
“You were just out of the hospital at this time!”
“Yeah. I thought I'd never see you again, and that I just had to deal with the loss. I didn't expect you to literally fall into my arms.”
“I'm glad I did, Kacchan”
“You're forgetting again the part where your heart stopped functionning.”
“That's destiny for you. Always some kind of drama involved!”
“About destiny... why aren't you the number one hero, as you promised, nerd?”
Instead of laughing, or at least smiling, Izuku turned somber.
“You know, Kacchan, I wondered so many times myself. But the truth is, I never performed as well alone than I did when I was with you.”
“Ah?”
“You gave me this energy, this will...”
“That's childhood! It wasn't me.
“I don't think so. That's why I won't let you out of my eyes again!” smiled Izuku.
“Controlling, again, maybe?”
“Kacchan!”

Chapter Text

Deku's flat was small, but it still had a guestroom, because friends were important to him. Katsuki slept soundly, emotionaly exhausted by their reunion and long talk. He woke up a bit disoriented by the unfamiliar environment. Izuku was up (had he slept?) and had prepared a full breakfast. The smell of rice and miso led him to the kitchen and they shared the comforting food with few words. They boarded an early train, Deku getting more and more nervous. The school's dispensary had been mainly set to offer students some experience, under minimal, but attentive, supervision from their teachers. Along the way, as it offered free treatment and care, it had developed to become a sort of clinic for the poor and the homeless, many of them quirkless. The students, their teachers and some alumni took care of every person who passed the doors, indiscriminately. It was, of course, always busy. Katsuki opened with his pass the staff only door.
“You won't need to go through the triage, I'll get for you any student or teacher you would want to examine you. I think Todoroki's there this morning.”
“Todoroki? Is that Natsuo, Shoto's brother?”
“Himself. Don't tell him I said that, but he's really good.”
“I guess he is, but I don't want to see him.”
“Well, I get it. The teach it is, then.”
“Him neither”
“Her. You'll be more comfortable with a woman don't you think?”
“Kacchan! No! I want you to do it.”
“Me? But you told me...?”
“I'm dumb, I know, but even I can admit that taking care of my body should be a priority in my line of work.”
“I still don't see the problem. The teachers here are reliable.”
“I'm sure they are. Trouble is, I'm very uncomfortable with everything related to medicine, health issues, exams... even needles! I know it's stupid, and you'd think that seing the insides of so many hospital rooms should have cured me of this fear but not really. It prevented me so many times in the past to get full treatment for my injuries.”
“So?”
“But with you I feel I can get to relax. And even maybe get to relax enough to go through all the procedure. And, forget about relaxing, I trust you more than anybody at this point. I have seen many doctors, healers, quirk specialists. I have had many ones examining me, and none of them saw through my... deceits. My fault, I know. I'm too good a liar. You took charge of me for ten minutes straight and it was enough for you to pinpoint exactly what my problem was. Tell me, Kacchan, where should I find a better doctor? You're my hero, I want you to take care of me.”
Katsuki's shocked and disbelieving expression turned slowly into a prudent smile.
“Okay. Good. Fine. I get it. So, the whole undressing is no more a problem?”
“Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“I don't know, Kacchan, you advertised yourself as the best dick of your class, I can't say I'm not a tad curious!”
Katsuki barked a laugh.
“Not the place, nerd. And then, you shouldn't trust the airhead. She was half drunk nearly every time we had sex, so...”
Katsuki didn't read too much into the flirting. The nerd was anxious and putting on a brave face. They had arrived at the front desk. One of the fourth years was there, sorting the arrivals.
“Yumi, I'm with a patient. Is there an examination room free at the moment?”
“Yes. The spare one, second floor. I'm registering you. Will you take others this morning?”
“Is there a need?”
“Always” sighed Yumi.
“Maybe some, then.”
“Thanks, Firecracker!”
They took the stairs to the examination room. Izuku found he could walk the disinfectant smelling halls without his members shaking and that was a first.
“Firecracker, is that your nickname?”
“Yeah, Kitamura, the guy at the Gym, back when I lived with my parents, called me that, and, somewhat, it spread.”
“I like it.”
“Okay. Here's the room. Undress to your boxers. I'll wash my hands and get spare labcoat. Be there in a minute.”
Left alone, Izuku felt anxiety spike again. He slowly removed his clothes and sat on the chair, feeling cold and self conscious. Katsuki may be a professional, but he wasn't. He hoped he'd keep his cool when his very hot childhood friend's hands would be on him, but he wasn't so sure. He felt like bit of a perv, jumping the pants of the first beautiful man in his reach. But then, katsuki was not any beautiful man. The way they had talked last night, like all these years spent apart had not even happened, Deku and Kacchan, forever together. He shook his head and the fantasies. If he wanted to keep Katsuki, he'd had to work for it, and that would start by NOT popping a boner during a medical examination.

Turned out, his angst wasn't necessary. The stethoscope was cold and not sexy, the gentle press of Katsuki's fingers on his calves was soft but not sexy, Katsuki's voice when he asked him to bend the knee was handsomely hoarse but not sexy, his focused face was, right, stunning but barely sexy. Then, he brought a monitor on a trolley, and explained :
“I'm going to examine your heart by ultrasound now. As it's a very technical exam, I'll have teach to supervise. If the results are clear, we'll discuss the fallout with her. Then, we'll probably have to schedule an electrocardiogram. You ok with that?
“Sure”
He took a bottle of gel and started spreading it on his chest. Izuku hold back a smile. That was somewhat intimate but not sexy either. As on command, there was a knock on the door and a woman in her fifties, looking fit and energetic, her labcoat floating upon strained jeans and a band shirt entered the room.
“Midoriya, is it? I'm Ishikawa Rei. I'm a teacher here. Do you have any questions that Bakugo here hasn't answered yet?”
“I think I'm good.”
“Proceed, then, Firecracker.”

Two hours later, Izuku was seated in a little izakaya, nursing a beer and munching on a handful of fresh edamane. Katsuki had promised to meet him there with the result of his bloodwork, but there was no doubt left. He had been right from the start. With a sigh, he looked at his phone. He had called Iida, as the Ingenium agency was the one employing him, but the conversation had not been as satisfying as it should have been. Iida had been reluctant in allowing medical leave, with a big operation on the go, had doubted Kacchan's proficiency and asked for further investigation. Izuku had not taken very well the objection and had been cold about it.
“How long do you think you need?”
“That would be two month, at least”
“That much?”
“It's the price for staying alive. Take it or fire me” had answered Izuku in a rare access of short temper. Maybe Kacchan had been rubbing off on him.
Iida had taken the hint, apologized and relented, wishing Deku a prompt recovery.

When Katsuki finally could take off his coat and walk outside, blood results in hand, he found the young hero brooding in front of his beer, and he felt his heart tighten. How could Izuku waltz back in his life and suddendly become the most important person so easily? He wasn't sure about his own feelings, part of him wanted to fly again, the other considered this thought with indignation. He was confused. He sat on a high chair.
“Beer's not allowed nerd.”
Izuku's eyes lingered on the envelope, and Katsuki handed it to him.
“What's inside that I should know,”
“Nothing more. Just the last of the doubts scrapped, I guess.”
“I called the agency. Iida's not happy.”
“Nobody asked him to be happy about it. Actually, if he's a friend of yours, he should be very unhappy right now. And worried.”
They ordered a plate of korroke, beer for Katsuki, water for Deku, some chicken skewers, more edamame. They talked about the treatment. Katsuki encouraged Izuku to make some more calls, and answer some questions. When he left to go to the toilet, Deku tried to order some more beer but was stopped by Katsuki, who ordered Yuzu juice instead.
“So, no alcohol at all. What else?”
“No exercise.”
“What? at all? But I will languish, Kacchan! I've been working out every day since the age of fourteen!”
Katsuki saw a sudden moist threatening to spill out of Izuku's eyes, and he felt the need to soothe him.
“I'll take you hiking or whatever, as soon as you're ready. But nothing physical alone, dumbass.”
“Okay, okay.”

Shoto offered Izuku one of his agency's flats, for the duration of his treatment. It made the whole process easier, as he would not have to take the train for the three-times-a-week visits at the clinic. He moved immediatly, bringing the bare minimum from his Hosu's flat : some clothes, books, his laptop, his notebooks. Facing two months of doing nothing was a scary perspective he intended to beat with a brave face. Having Kacchan as his neighbour next door... THAT was interesting. And a tad scary too. The young Kacchan had been his best friend, his partner in crime and the confident of all his childhood miseries. He could read all of his moods like an open book. Adult Kacchan was different and undeniably an enigma. He had learned to harness his temper and to hide his feelings. He was still, at core, the same vibrant flame, passionate and strong, one that Izuku had craved to burn himself at, again and again. He didn't know if he was still allowed to.

When he closed the door to the outside world, on his first day in Tokyo, he expected to face no other difficulty than a bit of boredom, and a lack distractions to take his head out of his chronic pain. How wrong he was! With the adrenaline gone, he was blasted by the full force of his illness, competing with the backlash of the last days. Fever and tiredness engulfed him. For a few days, he was not even able to leave his bed. He marveled at how he could have kept his state of health hidden to everybody for so long. And more, how he could have lied to himself to that extent. He was even scared. He had not realized how much he had played with his own health, his own life. Still, bad habits being hard to kill, he talked cheerfully enough to his friends, and told Iida he was doing fine. Iida, believing him, transfered him all the paperwork until Katsuki personnaly called the Ingenium agency to yell that rest meant rest, and that he'd personally destroy all work found in his patient's bedroom. The incoming of files abruptly ended.
When Katsuki visited Izuku for the first time, he found him in bed and approved. The next day, ahead of schedule, he came again and, bringing soup, rice and omelet. He did that every day after, grumbling that Deku was the worst patient ever, not even able to take care of himself damnit. Izuku took everything with gratitude, letting Katsuki listening for his heartbeat through his stethoscope for way longer than necessary.

After a week, his health had considerably improved, and he regained capacity of getting up and ordering food for himself. Still, Katsuki came daily. He was checking on Izuku, always serious and focused, entering all the data on his tablet and writing his own remarks. Izuku took the habit of watching out for the moment when he was finished to offer him some tea, a cake, asking him for an advice. Any way to keep him around was good. Katsuki stopped pretending he didn't want to be there after a while, and just went with the flow. They talked for hours.

On the third week of this regimen, Izuku started baking, and then cooking, asking his mum for advice. His first bento for Kacchan was a bit plain, but at least he got the octopus sausages right, and that was a win in his book.
Kacchan kept his promise to accompany him for a walk and on sunday, they took the train to Hakone. Izuku was a bit offended to see that Kacchan had taken him on a beginner's trail, but he said nothing. After all, he supposed that the doctor knew what he was doing.
At the five weeks landmark, Katsuki had to go back to school, but he still managed to come and check on Izuku almost every day, save for friday. Izuku stayed alone in his unfurbished flat, with enough food for two, but appetite for a half. He wondered when Kacchan had taken so much place in his life and his mind, and if he was with his friends right now. Friday was the day of the class party at the frat house, that Kacchan had skipped since the beginning of his illness to stay with him. He wondered what was happening in this right moment. Was Kacchan drinking? Was he laughing? Was he was having sex? He drank his tea feeling lonely and questioning himself about his feelings. Was it friendship? Was it a crush? Was it... something more? But in that case, what did Kacchan feel about him? He didn't know. Kacchan talked very few about himself, and never about his feelings. Sure, he was taking good care of him, but it could be out of desire to see his personal patient getting better. Or out of some kind of misplaced guilt. One of the few things Kacchan had shared, was admitting he had felt bad about cutting all the ties with him so many years ago. Was his care only a way to make up for it?
That night, he felt the pain creeping back in his chest. In the morning, he called his friends one by one. He could not go on relying on Katsuki only. He was putting too much of a burden on his doctor/friend's shoulders. It was time for him to reconnect with his life.

They all answered the call. On thursday, they trickled into the small flat, carrying trays of food, extra cushions, folding chairs and lots of chaotic energy. Izuku didn't remember they were that loud.
Katsuki knocked at his usual time after work. Hearing no answer but a hubbub of music and voices, he cautiously opened the door. He was startled by the vision of various heroes spread out in the sofa, on cushions on the floor, leaning against the cabinets. The coffee table was laden with bowls and bottles. He dropped off his briefcase, contemplating a moment the pandemonium that Izuku's flat had become. Izuku himself was seated between Shoto and a brown-haired woman with big round eyes. Was she... Uravity? When their eyes met, he was greeted by one of those big smiles that never missed their target.
“Kacchan! Come in! How was your day?”
Lots of eyes zoomed on him, as the heroes finally noticed him. The brown-haired woman put down her glass and waved excitedly:
“Are you THE Kacchan, Deku-kun's quirkless friend?”
Deku could feel the sudden drop in the room's temperature, and saw Kacchan hissing.
“That's doctor Bakugo, thank you.”
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...” someone elbowed her and she shut up.
“Kacchan, please join us” went on Izuku, in an attempt to dissipate the awkwarness. “There's food enough for a full starving football team, help us!”
“Thanks, Deku but no. Was just saying hello, I'm on my way to the clinic.”
“At this time?”
“Night shift. I'm off this week-end so I took it. See you tomorrow.”
Katsuki took back his briefcase and had the hand on the handle when Deku called him again.
“Wait, Kacchan! You're off this week-end? It means, no hike?”
“Sorry Deku, I had this planned for months.”
“It's all right! Said a guy with glasses which voice he recognized. Iida. The one he had copiously bawled out. Great. So, the man was not only his boss, but his friend too. “We can take you for any walk you'll want”
“Absolutely not!” growled Katsuki, a bit too loud “No exercise save under supervision.”
“We're heroes, we sure can supervise one of us” replied Iida.
“Great supervision you did, not recognizing he was sick for months. Don't you all realize how serious his condition is?”
His voice boomed in the now very silent room.
“Kacchan, it's okay, I won't go anywhere. I can survive a week-end without walking.”
“Promise, Deku?” said Katsuki with a far more mellowed voice.
“Of course Kacchan.”
“Good. I'm off.”
And without another word, he had closed the door behind him, leaving a crowd of heroes baffled.

Chapter Text

In the morning, Shoto called a drowsy Katsuki to his office. Night had been busy and he had only be able to doze a couple of times on a chair in the guard room. A very welcome cup of tea was waiting for him on the hero's desk, and he took it with gratitude.
“Fair warning before starting, I'm on a mission from Izuku's friends.”
Katsuki huffed.
“I hope these idiots didn't overwork him or made him drink.”
“I can assure you he stayed sober. Yuzu juice all the way. And I made sure everybody got out early.”
“At least one of you got some sense.”
“Yes. And I want to apologize. What Uraraka said was very insensitive.”
“You're talking about the round face? Uravity, right? Nah. She didn't say anything wrong and I'm past being hurt by such remarks. I may have reacted out of a... Pavlovian reflex, I'd say. Nothing to worry about. What did they mission you to say? Or to ask?”
“Well, you worried them.”
“Good.”
“And they want to know the state of Izuku's health.”
Katsuki's pupils narrowed.
“They really thought I'd answer that?”
“Some of them may. I told them you wouldn't.”
“Right. Didn't they ask the nerd?”
“They pestered him, you may say.”
Katsuki surprised Shoto by not grinning at this joke, but frowning instead.
“He's a stubborn shit, but he shouldn't go through all of this alone. Why does he keep pretending he's fine? He needs friends in his corner.”
“I reckon he thinks that's what you're here for.”
“I'm his doctor. Can't be both, it's unethical.”
“You're thinking about relationships, there. There's nothing wrong about friendship between a doctor and his patient, or am I mistaken?”
Katsuki was struck. Was he thinking about a relationship? With Izuku?
“Anyway,” Shoto went on, “I'll tell them you respect the confidentiality and that should be the end of it. I've learned from my brother the value of discretion.”
“Natsuo's a good doctor. Glad to see he's a good brother too. Listen. You can tell the idiots that I was serious. Deku's not off the grid, especially now when he has no symptoms to remind him the virtues of resting. That's it. That's all I can say.”
“Dully noticed.”
The alarm blared at this moment, and Shoto took off his phone. There was a string of notifications incoming.
“Villain attack,” he said curtly. “The commission wants every hand available on deck. Gear up, you're coming.”
The Endeavor's agency was a well oiled machine, and in less than ten minutes, two vans full of heroes and one medic were rushing to the battleground, briefed along the way. One of the villains had a nasty quirk that weakened the structures, causing the buildings to collapse as soon as some pressure was applied. Nobody knew how many buildings had been jinxed, so the heroes had to be extra cautious. The first confrontation had been deadly, with a full mall suddendly crashing on unsuspecting customers and employees.
They parked in a middle of an avenue, immediatly starting the evacuation. Katsuki could see heroes already fighting low-grade villains. He jumped into the fray. The heroes found injured persons everywhere, under rubbles, hit by every kind of flying debris. It was one of these nightmares only a mad mind could conjure. The injuries were gruesome, people were screaming, holding half attached limbs to their chests or trying to break free from piles of broken cement. The hours passed, without a decrease in the flow of patients. Ambulances followed ambulances and every time, there was a line of people waiting to be brought to the hospitals. Tents were erected in parks and plazzas for the minor cases, and soon, they were overcrowded too. The day wore off, the night came, bringing at last a steady decrease of the persons in need. Katsuki worked until his vision went blurry and his hands shook with overexhaustion. Then, the last of the injured was laden into a vehicle. He looked around him to check on another but there was none. He slipped down on the asphalt. A second later, he felt another body leaning on his side.
“Natsuo?”
“Yeah. Sleep.”
He closed his eyes.

They woke up three hours later, back to back, a slightly angry Shoto in costume towering them.
“Why didn't you come back with the others? Midoriya was worried sick!” He spat.
“Shut up, little brother, you know very well we couldn't leave until all the injured have been taken care of. And anyway, Midoriya's always worried.”
“Maybe, but there's a new level of worried, even for him. I think Bakugo unlocked the Boss of Worried Midoriya. And that's not a nice sight.”
Katsuki groaned, stood and gave a hand to Natsuo:
“Where does this stench come from? You, me, or the sewers?”
“Definitely you” answered Natsuo, who stank as much as Katsuki.
“I'm taking you both for breakfast.” said Shoto, fighting a smile.

Katsuki barely had time for a quick shower and a change of clothes before heading to the dojo. One of the oldest masters from Kansai was giving an exceptional lesson and there was no way he'd miss it. He sent a quick text to Izuku just before entering the dojo and silenced his phone after that. The sensei was a traditional woman.

Izuku's phone pinged, he opened the text and sighed in relief. He already knew Katsuki was safe, Shoto had sent him a picture of him and Natsuo, passed out cold outside a first aid post. Both looked exhausted and their coats weren't white anymore, but at least, they were alive and kicking. Though, he was worried that Katsuki would resent him for his friend's remarks about his quirklessness.
The week-end went by very slowly, despite a steady flow of concerned friends, who all made a point of not staying too long, not to overexert him. They were very well coordinated too, each one coming one quarter of hour after the other had left. That was both comforting and infuriating. So, when he heard an umpteenth knock at the door on sunday evening, he let out a slightly exasperated “come in”.
Kacchan was there, briefcase in hand, spikes going wilder than usual, still a bit damp from the shower.
“You alright, nerd? You look a bit off.”
“Yes. Yes! Why shouldn't I?”
“Be honest, Deku.”
Izuku lowered slightly his head, eyes on the floor.
“Well, I don't feel exactly as myself.”
“It's to be expected”, said Katsuki, encouragingly, and Izuku wondered why the tired man was the one who had to support him at this moment. “Lay down, I'm going to examine you and you're going to tell me everything.”
“Okay, Kacchan.”
As he had done many times before, Izuku took off his shirt and and laid on the sofa. Katsuki started methodically, as he always did, by looking at his eyes, ears, throat, took his temperature with an infrared thermometer and listened at lenght at Izuku's heart. At last, he removed the earpiece of the stethoscope and asked :
“Your heartbeat is a bit fast, but all other signs are on the good side. Can you tell me what's wrong?”
Izuku sat up straight.
“Well, I think I was quite worried this week-end.”
“Worried?”
“You left just after that quite insensitive remark of Ochaco. And I was... put off, to say it mildly.”
“You know there was no reason, do you?”
“No?”
“At 13, it probably would have me foaming at the mouth. Luckily, I'm not 13 anymore”, smirked Katsuki, making Izuku's heartbeat quickening again. “What else?”
“Well, I have been feeling... off, since. I think I experienced withdrawal symptoms.”
“Oh. Did you forget to take any of your medicines? Let me check.”
“No. I'm sure I took them religiously.”
Katsuki frowned.
“Can you elaborate, then?”
“Well, Minutes felt like hours. I had very few energy. I wasn't hungry, I was tired but I couldn't sleep well.”
Katsuki showed all signs of intense concentration, and Izuku went on.
“Saturday was hard, but sunday was worse. I felt my heart constricting from time to time, when I had... thoughts. And then...”
“Then?”
“That's when you arrived. I think my heartbeat spiked. And my chest stopped hurting. It felt like things were hatching in my stomach, too.”
Katsuki kneeled in front of Izuku, he crossed his arms and planted his eyes on the hero's.
“What are you trying to tell me?”
“I'm... being honest with you, Kacchan. And with me, at last. With my feelings.”
“Izuku, I'm you doctor!”
“Am I only your patient?”
“What you think... it's not ethic.”
“It didn't stop you from coming at my doorstep.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Izuku knew he had fucked up. The redness in Katsuki's cheeks wasn't from embarrassment, but from pure anger.
“It was to save your life, dumbass! Not to get into your pants! These are two very different things!” he shouted.
“I'm sorry, Kacchan. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean that. Sorry for making you breaking your vows the first time. Sorry for suggesting you'd do it in any other situation than life or death ones. I was talking out of my ass. Kacchan, please, don't go!”
Katsuki looked at him intensely, jaw locked, as if he was trying very hard not to spout more definite words. Instead, he roughly started packing away his instruments.
“Why are you like this, Deku? We barely know each other. I don't know who you like, but it's probably not me.”
“That's for me to decide, Kacchan. I worked hard to become the one that could match you. Doesn't it feel right to you?”
Katsuki looked at him, quizzical.
“It's not about this dumb dick joke is it?”
“No! Well, maybe it played its part. I'm not a virgin anymore and I can't ignore the fact that you're very attractive. But I swear!”
“What do you swear? If it's a stress releasing fuck you're after, I'm out. Not that there is anything wrong about it. I'm just... not interested.”
“Not interested... just with me?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Sorry. Sorry. I feel I can't do anything right today. I should shut up and never talk about that again, but I promised myself I'd go to the bottom of it, so I'll go on even if it means digging my own grave.”
“So dramatic of you, Deku,” commented Katsuki, but this time, he seemed to relax a bit. He took a few steps back and sat on a cushion. “So, what?”
“Can I ask you... how you feel? About me?”
Katsuki exhaled.
“I don't really know, nerd.” Izuku could not help his expression turning crestfallen. Kacchan went on. “I can dissect a heart and name all its parts. I can make you come three times in a row. But...” his countenance became more vulnerable. “But I'm a bit of a virgin when it comes to sentiments.” He kept looking at this specific spot on the floor. Izuku understood that his raw honesty, his openness deserved more than comforting but meaningless words. He waited. “If you want to know, I feel like this day at the hospital, when my parents told me we'd move to Tokyo, I locked all emotions inside me. Only way thirteen years old me knew how to start again and not getting depression, I guess.”
Silently, like a cautious cat, Izuku approached Katsuki and sat crosslegged as close as he dared without touching him.
“I don't have as much experience in sex than you do, I'm sure, but feelings is my forte. After all, I have had my share of heartbreaks.”
“Who hurt you, Deku? Tell me, I'll send them...”
“Poison?”
“I'm not that mean. Strong laxatives should do it.”
Izuku laughed.
“I had the bad habit of crushing on heterosexuals.”
“Unfortunate.”
“You tell me. My first kiss was with a guy who interned at the same agency, in our third year. We stayed together three weeks straight and then he told me I was not the one for him. I cried for as much as long as the time spent together. Definitely not worth it. He was large, blond and confident. Maybe I have a type.”
“Assholes?”
“Wrong. I'm more of... a Kacchansexual?”
Katsuki snorted, and it was almost a pleasant sound, relaxed and simple. So, Izuku tried again.
“You built strong walls around you, Kacchan. I get it. Will you lower the drawbridge for me?”
“How?”
Izuku leaned towards him, and when their breaths mingled, he murmured: “like this?” Katsuki abridged the gap and captured Deku's plump lips in his, delicately licking. Izuku opened his mouth, eager for more, for everything, and Katsuki invaded it. His hands cupped his neck, his jaw, his hair. It was not the wet and messy business of his nights at the frat house, neither the sweet and boring thing that had been his first kiss at the end of middle school. He felt his skin tingling, as if Deku's mouth had been sprinkled with gunpowder. The taste was absolutely right too, intoxicating, kindling all sorts of fires in him he didn't know existed. What were all these anatomy lessons for? He wanted more, but Deku broke the kiss.
“Well, what do you think? Is it a good starting point?”
“First thing in the morning, you take an appointment with Natsuo.”
“Fair enough. Am I about to get that Best Dick TM?”
“Not when you're still my patient.”
“Kacchan!” whined a scandalized Izuku.
“I knew you only wanted me for my body!” But this time, there was no anguish, just playful banter.
“I'm exhausted anyway. I woudn't want to give you a bad first impression, you'd end up breaking up with me before our first date, and that would not look good on my record.”
“First date. That sounds interesting. Do you have anything in mind?”
“Nothing strenuous! But I can take you for a hike and then, eat at a ryokan somewhere.”
“That's what we did all these... oh, you mean they were dates?”
“Of course not, nerd, I don't date my patients.”
“But are they allowed to kiss you?”
“Only if they're freckled.”
Izuku immediatly claimed his mouth again, exploring, sucking, biting like a dehydrated man who found a well in the desert. He moaned.
“I'm horny.”
“And I want to hear you heart.”
“What else do you want?”
Katsuki took some time to consider.
“To hold you”, he said finally. “To explore you, to caress you, to inhale your smell. But right now, I most want to listen to your heart.”
“That's... surprisingly romantic. Are you sure you know nothing about sentiments?”
Katsuki didn't answer. Izuku laid on the cushions, taking off his shirt to allow the bell of the stethoscope some room on his chest. Katsuki closed his eyes and Izuku looked at him with curiosity, his peaceful face drowned in the listening of his heartbeat. Soon, it slowed down, and they shared a moment of peace.
“Sleep here?” asked Izuku after a while
“I don't sleep with my patients.”
“Just see it as... another night shift?”
“You're driving me hard, nerd.”
But he stayed.

Natsuo was busy, but he gave Deku an appointment before his shift started at the hospital.
“Did you have an argument with Bakugo?”
“No, it's the opposite actually.”
“Oh. I see. Well, in this case, I'll have the staff on stand-by, because you're going to break so many hearts! But I'm happy it's you.”
Deku rubbed his neck.
“Well, I sure hope he won't dump me after the trial period. I feel there's so much to work about! I was very confident when we talked but now, I'm a bit scared.”
“Not sure about your feelings?”
“Oh yes! I've been in love with him... basically all my life. I don't think I could ever fall out of love. But as much as I want to, I don't seem to be able to work through all of his layers. That's unsettling.”
“I guess he's a bit elusive and well guarded but did you ever see him giving-up in the midst of a project?”
“I don't think so.”
“That's my firecracker.” He smiled fondly. “Always hundred percent. If he told you he'd give a go at the relationship he will. Don't doubt him.”
Deku smiled too.
“Thank you. I probably needed to hear that. You like him a lot, don't you?”
“In a way, he's my other little brother. The successful one, not the hero.”
Deku laughed good naturedly at the jab.

Izuku waited for Katsuki return all day, checking the passing of the time every half hour, reading a few pages, taking a long bath, getting out, regretting getting out so early, considering going back, finally starting baking a cake and getting short of time when the long awaited knock at the door was finally heard.
For the first time, Katsuki didn't carry his medical case. He was wearing a pearl grey blazer over a freshly ironed white shirt. But what struck Izuku the most was his vibrant eyes, his grin and his overall radiant beauty. He felt his mouth drying.
“Kacchan...” he said in a dazed voice.
“Hi nerd, are you okay? Have you seen Natsuo today?”
Izuku straighntened.
“Yes. I'm fine. And I saw him.”
“So, you're not my patient anymore?”
“Exactly! but”, he added, a bit deflated, “Natsuo said no strenuous activity.”
Katsuki laughed at that.
“What, did you think I was just being overprotective? Or possessive maybe?”
“Absolutely not!”, protested Izuku, knowing very well that it was exactly what he had been thinking. He felt shame creeping on his cheeks.
“Come in. I missed you.”
“Already?”
“Yes. I have a question for you. Does three times in a row qualifies as strenuous?”
Kacchan laughed again and Izuku felt like he was winning at the lottery.
“Maybe” he answered in a low, lascivious voice. “Good thing I qualify as competent supervision, then?”

Chapter Text

Izuku's thigh twitched. Six weeks. Six full bloody weeks since the last time he had seen Katsuki. He once again replayed in his head their last kiss at the station, before his departure to Hosu. Two days later, Katsuki boarded the bullet train to Hiroshima, where he was scheduled to stay for three months.
Their time together as neighbours had been blissfully easy, their lives like two slots finally finding their resting place. They had cooked together, trained together (as soon as Natsuo allowed it), talked a lot and made love at any occasion. That was before the outside world knocked again at their door.
“...think about?”
“What?”
“Deku-kun, you're distracted.”
“Sorry, Uraraka. I was just... daydreaming, I guess.”
“Your heart doesn't cause you anymore trouble, does it?”
“No, I'm good.”
“That's what you always say. How can I trust you, now?”
“You can't.” smiled Izuku. “But trust my doctor, he cleared me.”
“Your Kacchan?”
“Don't call him that!”
“Sorry. I won't do it again!”
“Sorry for snapping. But this nickname, he only allows me to use it.” His face fell, as the perspective of long weeks without Kacchan hit him again. “And anyway, my doctor now is Todoroki Natsuo.”
“Really? Shoto's brother? Why? Did you two have a fight or what?”
“No, it's...”
“He looked like he had quite the temper, so I wouldn't be surprised.”
Izuku winced. Of course she'd think that. They should have came clear about their relationship earlier, but they were both caught in their loving haze, they didn't even think about anything else before it was too late, before they had to separate on a railway station. Some grown-ups they were. And now? He didn't want to do it alone. He wanted Kacchan at his side to share the news, to face the suspicion of his protective, well meaning but slightly misleaded friends.
“Please drop it.”
“Okay. But it pains me to see you so miserable.”
That was not wrong, at least.
“Back to patrol?”
“If you're up to it.”
“Of course I am, Uraraka, I'm a hero.”
Uraraka made a non-committal noise, and they both left the little café to resume their patrol.

This evening, he called Kacchan. Their charts didn't often match, so their calls were rare and precious moments, scheduled in advance. But even then, the Hiroshima's agency drove Katsuki hard and he couldn't always be there for their long awaited calls. He was relieved to hear the doctor's fond voice.
“Nerd”
“Kacchan. I miss you. I miss you so much.”
“Something happened?”
“Not really. My friends are worrying again.”
“You should be more honest with them, I already told you.”
“I need you for that.”
“Well, as soon as I can, you know that.”
“There's this big reunion planned. All my former class will be there. Don't you think it'd be the best moment? I'd love to have you as my plus one.”
“Yes? When's that?”
“Saturday, two weeks from now.”
Katsuki grimaced from his side of the line.
“Probably won't be free. One of the permanent medics is on maternity leave, and they need me to cover her shifts. Especially on saturdays.”
“It's all right. I understand.” said Izuku, hiding his disappointment. “What about you?”
Katsuki felt his heart shatter a bit at hearing the defeated voice of his hero boyfriend. The Hiroshima agency was one of the best for the med students, because of its organization. Ten years ago, all local heroes had decided that they would work more efficiently together, and had merged all the previous agencies in one. The result being, an agency the size of a hive, constantly buzzing with activity, heroes and medics working together through all kind of situations. Getting an internship here was no little deed and there was no way he could have given up on this experience. Sometimes, though, like now, Izuku's sad voice made him reconsider.
He steeled himself, and talked about his week, the rescue mission on a boat in which he got to resuscitate an almost drowned woman, and how he had learned a lot about the saving at sea. When he had finished his story, Izuku was enthusiastic again. There was no way a good story would not spark his insatiable curiosity, and he remembered now that it was the first thing that brought them together, back in their childhood. Damn nerd, he could see his eyes shining even 700 kms apart.

Uraraka was not half as happy, as she talked at lenght about her worries after her shift. She and Iida had been dating for nearly one year, but were taking it slow, both planning to make names for themselves before outing them as a couple. One of the things they had in common was being very fond and protective of Izuku.
“There's something fishy, I can tell. He didn't want to talk about it. And if it's not a red flag!”
“I don't know”, answered Iida, “this Bakugo sounded very threatening when he called me.”
“Do you think he could have some kind of leverage over Deku-kun?”
One of the things they did NOT have in common was the attitude towards gossip. Iida was tight-lipped when Uraraka was not.
So she took upon herself to test the waters, and made a few phone calls. She was slightly upset that Shoto dismissed her without even listening to the full story. Let's face it, Shoto, having employed the infamous Kacchan, should have been her main source of knowledge. She turned towards Aoyama, who had worked a while at the Endeavor's agency. He didn't know anything, but took the gossip in stride. Uraraka felt validated. Aoyama talked to half of the class, set a few groupchats to exchange opinions on the Maybe-Deku-Scandal.
Chats buzzed for days, and a Deku Survey was introduced, with pictures of Deku Sad Face TM and Deku Is Not Himself transcribed conversations. After a week of back and forth, the Deku Protection Squad was instated. Aoyama's suggestions for passwords and recognition signs were dismissed, but the heart of its members were deat set on, first, unveil the mystery of Deku's Sudden Sad Mood and, second, Save Deku From Any Hidden Threat. The squad expected to launch the first part of the plan on the saturday party. Little did they know, the second one would also be propelled full force.

While part of the heroic world was agitated by these noble feelings, in Hiroshima, Flavour of the Day was mops and brooms. A late summer storm, not even a typhoon, had rather disturbed the otherwise perfect alignment of blue tiles on the western aisle of the agency grounds. Rain had poured inside, causing an impromptu indoors river to drown most of the infirmary. Two nurses, three first responders and Katsuki had valiantly fought against the weather, armed with buckets and sponges, all with little results, when the director herself cut the loss and sent everybody home.
“Should we stay on standby, in case of emergency?”
“And where would you take care of the injured? No, we'll send everybody to the hospital and you can rest. Especially you, Bakugo, we owe you so many rest days I'm ashamed when I think about it. Don't come back before... wednesday.”
And that was final. So, Katsuki didn't think twice. He took a shower, put his phone in a jar of rice (all this water), got dressed with his best shirt and blazer and ran to the station.

Yaoyorozu and Iida, as former class president and vice, had rented for the week-end a very nice venue on a small coastal town, south of Yokohama. Present Mic had insisted to undertake the music programmation, the food came from one of the best local caterers, with fish so fresh it could almost still wiggle. Katsuki arrived at the doors of the domain, and was going to push the doors when a voice stopped him.
“Where do you think you're going?”
Ah. Iida. Of course.
“Deku's there, isn't he?”
“And what if it's the case? He's invited and you're not.”
“Don't be a pain in the ass and just fucking tell him I'm here, would you?”
It should have been enough. It usually was. Trouble is, Iida was not easily intimidated, being a hero, and dealing with sassy villains on a daily basis. He didn't relent.
“Your language doesn't speak highly of you, I recommend to tone it down, please, we don't want a scandal.”
“You, I don't know, but I don't mind causing one if you don't call Deku for me.”
“Threats will lead you nowhere.”
Katsuki huffed. He remembered Izuku's disappointment when he told him he could not make it to the party. The fated storm (probably), the unexpected days off, the four hours of Shinkansen, the one hour of a sluggish bus, all of that to be stopped by a stubborn hero-would be? He could have laughed. Or cried. But then, the door opened again, and more people started trickling outside. So he planted firmly his feet on the ground, crossed his arms and waited.
“Doctor Bakugo?” asked someone, and he nodded. One of them, at least, remembered the right way to address him.
“Shouldn't we call Midoriya?”
“I don't think so. Bakugo, I don't know what you're doing here, but if Midoriya would have wanted you here, he would have invited you.”
Katsuki only laughed.
“What are you trying to do?” asked a very beautiful woman, with black hair and almond eyes. Katsuki didn't know that, but she was one of the most concerned members of the Deku's Protection Squad. He felt no hostility towards her, so he answered with what he could summon of civility.
“One good question at last. I'm trying to see Deku of course.”
“Why?”
“Why what? Are you entitled to my private life?”
Well. Maybe the amount of civility he could gather was not that immense.
“We should...” someone said.
“After all, it's not as if we weren't twenty heroes.”
“Deku should be able to decide by himself if he wants to see him or not, don't you think?”
Shoto was there? Katsuki smirked.
“What kind of friends are we if we can't even protect him against unwelcome visitors?”
That was the last straw. Katsuki felt he could explode. The door opened again, and a familiar mop of green hair peeked outside.
“What are you all doing h... Kacchan?”
“Took you a long time, nerd!”
“Midoriya, you can go back inside, we're taking care of everything!” interrupted Iida.
Izuku took a single glance at the scene. Here was a bunch of his classmates, all sporting various expressions of concern. Facing them, arms crossed, grinning like a madman, Kacchan was looking straight at him. Izuku was smart. He didn't need any kind explanation to understand what was happening. He cleared his voice.
“I see. It's on me. It really is.”
“Yeah?” said Kacchan.
“I think so. My dear friends!” He said with the voice he generally used for speeches, calling to the attention of everybody. “I know I have not always been trustful in the past. I know I too often told you I was fine when I was not. I sincerely regret it, and especially today when I can see the consequences of my actions.”
Everybody had gone very silent. He went on.
“I can see how you wanted to preserve me, and I get how your default attitude towards me now is protection. I called it on me, I really did. But I want you to know that I don't need it. First, Kacchan is no menace, at least to me.” Shoto's lips twisted at this comment. Izuku went on. “What I really need is to be more sincere, towards my friends and towards myself. I have been knowing that, for some time now. Kacchan here, did not only saved my life twice, but he also made me realize that I had been hiding for too long. And from my friends, nonetheless. I don't hide anymore. Or I'm trying. Yes, I've been down these past weeks, because I missed someone very dearly, but it's not the case anymore. In fact, I'm more than good, now. I'm positively elated. Please believe me. Because I've never been as truthful. And I know you mean well, but please let me be judge of my own actions, and please step aside that I can greet my boyfriend properly.”
The former class 1A parted like the Red Sea, in various states of shock. There were some incredulous faces, some blue-screen faces, some ready to laugh faces, and a few who were trying to reboot hastily to understand where they had took the wrong direction. And then, there was Shoto, trying to hide a very amused smile under a nonchalant hand.
Katsuki didn't wait to consider all the reactions of people he didn't know, anyway. He strode towards his boyfriend, took him in his large arms and kissed him with not a care in the world. Izuku felt like Kaminari had creeped and zapped him. The kiss was wondrous, miraculous, ferocious.... and maybe a bit awkward?
“Kacchan... wait!”
“What? They made me lose all these minutes, they shall pay the price.”
Izuku laughed and that broke the kiss.
“Why are you here? I thought...?”
“Because of water damage and underperformance of some mops.”
“Water d... Okay, I don't want to know.”
Iida was the first to recover, or to act upon it. He bravely came forward.
“Midoriya, Doctor Bakugo, I owe you an apology. Doctor Bakugo, I'm sorry for assuming you were in any way hurting Midoriya, Midoriya, I'm sorry for assuming you needed my protection, and I'm sorry for butting into your private life.” He bowed deeply. Izuku answered immediatly.
“No, I'm sorry for being a bad friend, and letting all of you worrying over me, when I could have dissipated any misunderstandings. I'm at fault, here, you're not!”
Soon, most of the heroes followed their former class president and bowed too. Katsuki stayed firmly straight, patiently waiting for the bows to come to an end. Then he caught a glance in his direction.
“What? I won't apologize to you morons. Just to be very clear, I'm the least apologetic asshole of this party, get over it!”
“Kacchan!” cried a dismayed Izuku. Kirishima burst out laughing and clapped the doctor on the shoulder.
“Man, I like you! I can't wait to know you better! Come inside! We have food and drinks, the fish here is incredible!”
“Yes, let's go”, seconded Izuku, to put an end to the remaining awkwarness. And like a puff, the atmosphere was cleared, and they all went inside, Katsuki's arm around Izuku's shoulders. After a while, Kirishima followed on his promise to feed Katsuki, and took him into a long conversation. Izuku whispered in Shoto's ear:
“You were there from the beginning, weren't you? Why didn't you say anything?”
“Did he looked like he needed help? He was enjoying himself, and I'm not one for spoiling other's fun.”
“I guess you're right” grumbled Deku.
“You know what?” added Shoto, suddendly pensive. “You're my best friend and I love you. But I was starting to think you'd end alone.”
“Why, am I the bottom of the barrel?”
“Absolutely not. You're a catch, don't misunderstand me. But you're intense. You're often insecure. And you expect the world from people. You need someone with a stout heart to match yours. Someone who won't let himself intimidated and won't fall victim of your protective streak. And you know what? This one? He ticks all the criteria. The looks are just a nice bonus, I guess.”
Izuku looked at Katsuki, who was eating chicken on a stick, all while listening to Kirishima's enthusiastic conversation. The sun was playing in his soft golden hair, crowning him with an immaterial aura, and he was grinning. Yes, the looks were a nice bonus. But what tied them together went so far deeper, that no amount of stupidity from either would ever wilt it. He smiled. He was indeed a lucky man.

Chapter Text

“Another hero? What the fuck?” shouted doctor Bakugo to his secretary. “Do I look like a fucking charity worker for them?”
The secretary shrugged apologetically, refraining from a smile to reach her lips. She knew he’d open his door, and he’d spend far too long fixing whatever health problem that troubled the hero.
And yes, the ‘get away from the hero world’ had not been a wondrous success so far to Katsuki. Everything, of course, was Deku’s fault. Not that he really deplored the return of this particular hero in his life. Far from being a loss, Deku was a blessing. It could even be counted as his shiniest win so far. Their wedding had been a quiet affair, with only the close family and a couple of friends present. The quaint shrine, the blind priest, the dance of the maikos had appeased Katsuki’s repressed anxiety and he had let himself be truly happy and grateful to have the man by his side. He unconsciously clutched the ring he wore on a chain, under his white shirt. But he had insisted on keeping their marriage under wraps for the public, not wanting to be known, for both their sakes, as the quirkless husband of the famous hero. It had been surprisingly easy. Deku didn’t even need to lie. With his easy-to-read baby face, nobody thought he could even hide anything and all he had to do, when a question landed on the shores of his private life, was to blush, rub his neck and look embarrassed. The reporters usually ended up apologising for prying.

But if Katsuki had kept his distance from the heroes, the heroes never got the memo, and had started flocking at the entrance of his doctor’s office, like the one who was bothering right now.
It had started even before he graduated and, of course, Shoto had been the first. He had presented himself at the school’s clinic one day, asking for the young doctor-to-be to look into his health after an alert during an intervention. Katsuki didn’t mind Shoto too much, he was a good friend of Deku’s and had been a very decent boss during his first internship. So he listened very intently to the young hero who told him how he had been on the verge of fainting during a battle. Only the quick thinking of a sidekick had saved him from falling from the sky. ‘Quirk exhaustion’ had stated the agency’s medic, ‘quirk exhaustion’ had confirmed the quirk specialist of the hospital, but Shoto had not been satisfied. That’s why he had sat on the uncomfortable chair of the clinic’s and after that, allowed himself to be submitted to multiple rounds of tests, punctuated by Bakugo’s cursing.
The “Shoto Problem” had occupied Katsuki’s mind for days and nights. He had spoken to all his teachers for clues and had finally identified a weakness in Todoroki’s hormonal system that helped him regulate his temperatures. He had suggested a treatment. Shoto had been doubtful at the beginning, but after a few adjustments of the medicine, he had acknowledged it and had gone back to use his quirk fully, not hindered anymore by the fear of losing it mid-battle.
Katsuki was still a bit ashamed of the amount of time it took him to fix what was, ultimately, a very simple problem. But Shoto had been impressed and had spoken highly of him, and soon after, the heroes had started to trickle at the door of the clinic, all asking for his yet-to-build expertise.
“I’ll see him, take his charts and if he brought previous exam results, bring them to me” he asked his secretary who nodded with a smile. Katsuki almost never turned off patients.
And, yes, he was no expert. But he had a method and never left a stone unturned. The charts, weight, height, blood group, were not often relevant in a quirk society where one could have a tail or hooves, but he always wanted to get a full picture of the situation.
Curing Gang Orca was when his reputation among the heroes had surged dramatically. The marine hero had been unable to breathe underwater of late, but his biology being unique, none of the specialists had been able to find the origin of the trouble. Sent by his peers to this young doctor Bakugo, he had finally reached the clinic’s shabby door and found himself in front of the hero hater who couldn't seem to get rid of the heroes. He didn’t expect a lot from the still student, and certainly not to have his whole body reconstructed in 3D for the doctor to study and compare. But only three weeks later, the man convoked him, hand full of drawings and graphics, a glint in the eye that could pass for maniac, if it had been set on any other purpose. Gang Orca didn't mind meeting someone somewhat so dedicated to cure him. He had listened attentively and had accepted the recommended surgeon and the valve reconstruction protocol that Katsuki had fully written. The complex lung/gill system of the hero had never been studied before, so surgery was out of the picture… until now. Colour him impressed, Gang Orca fully recovered, and came in person to thank the doctor for the small miracle which allowed him to go on with his hero career. Katsuki couldn’t think about that day without feeling a mix of pride and embarrassment. What was his deal, bowing and thanking him, when he had only done his job, and not in a nice way if he remembered it all well?
Gang Orca back in action was when all heroes had started to queue at his door, laying bare their bodies, weaknesses and dirty little secrets for the novice doctor to see. It had been a mess, really. Katsuki repressed a smile at the memory of the weeks that had followed. How heroes were passing to each other his schedule at the clinic and how they waited, with masks, shades and hats to hide their identities in a waiting room full of civilians. Soon, the concentration of heroes of course attracted hordes of fans, making everybody’s job harder. The headmistress finally snapped and opened more slots, in recently bought premises, a bit more sheltered, so that the famous could be tended to without being exposed to the public curiosity. When Katsuki finally graduated, he already had scores of offers from hero agencies, as well as a list of regular patients fit for a full hospital. He had elected to stay at the local hospital, and to keep his consultation at the clinic. Money-wise, it was the worst choice, but he was not really interested in money. Being the best, that was what drove him. And when his secretary finally opened the door to let in the last of a long list of heroes, he was ready to, once again, be the best.

He groaned. In strolled the tall and stiff form of Hero Ingenium, civilian name : Iida Tenya, special sign : friend of Izuku’s. The man bowed deeply and started speaking immediately:
“Doctor Bakugo, I know we’re not on very good terms, and all the blame lies on my prejudices for which I…”
“Cut the crap,” interrupted Katsuki. “This is not a social hour, I won’t talk about anything, save your health. So, what is it that brings you here?”
“My calves bleed at the junction of the engines when I run a lot” blurted the hero. Katsuki perked off.
“Really? How long has it been happening? Did you tamper the engines in any way?”
When Iida told how, following the advice of his brother, he had ripped the first engines to let bigger ones grow, Katsuki frowned.
“You didn’t think of removing them surgically? Far less damage on the tissues, and probably less pain too?”
“Errr…” answered Iida
“That’s what I thought” said unforgivingly, but not unkindly Katsuki.
The rest of the examination went smoothly after that. The case was not that complicated enough to require week-long tests, yet not simple to get boring. Katsuki, as usual, was thorough, and Iida relaxed under the firm and kind arms of the doctor.
When Katsuki was about to send the hero on his way out, Iida spoke again:
“I know this is not the place but I don’t know when I’ll see you again, and that’s about Midoriya.”
Katsuki, who had been about to shut Iida again, closed his mouth.
“What about the nerd?”
“There’s the big hero gala coming and I know for a fact that he’d love for you to go with him.” And before Bakugo could object, he added “You probably have your reasons, but I’m quite sure Midoriya tells you that he’ll be perfectly fine on his own, he doesn't like to burden people, but he’s actually very anxious, and some support would do him good.”
“And you guys don’t support him?”
“We do. We’re just… not as good as you at this role. Sorry.”
“Damn.” commented Katsuki, and Iida was tactful enough to bow and to leave the consultation room without adding anything.

Katsuki sighed, took off his blouse and folded it carefully. Iida had filled the hour he generally used to sort and reflect on the day's cases, and he didn’t want to be late on one of the days when Izuku and his schedules matched. He’ll have to wake up earlier the next morning. He closed his computer, tidied up his desk, put off the lights and locked his door. Iida, he couldn’t deny it, had surprised him. Maybe had he been too quick to class him among the self righteous assholes. His calf problem was simple enough that it wouldn’t occupy his mind for long. The problem he had raised, though, needed some attention. Had Katsuki been a faulty husband, denying Izuku his presence when he needed it? Had he let himself be dragged backwards by his past? Izuku had grown, a lot. He had used their years apart to reflect on himself, on their somewhat unbalanced relationship as children and teenagers. Since their reunion, he had been very careful not to fall again in the old patterns. Had Katsuki offered back the same courtesy? He wasn’t sure. Or, maybe, he was. He had left Izuku doing the heavy lifting in their relationship, establishing his boundaries without thinking much on the toll they could take on his husband.
Shit. He felt terrible. And to think that, from all people, it had to be Iida pointing it out for him. Humiliating. He stopped at a florist’s shop, bought a big bouquet and took out his phone.
“Brat?” said a feminine voice. “What’s going on? Are you alright?”
“Yeah, fine. How about Dad?”
“You don’t ask about my health?”
“I’ll ask him.”
Mitsuki barked a laugh.
“You know us so well. He has a fucking lumbago again.”
“He didn’t change his desk chair, as I told him, did he?”
“He keeps saying he’s going to do it. Never does.”
“I’ll have one sent right at your door,” grumbled Katsuki. “And I’ll stop by soon to check on him.”
“You know, sometimes I wonder if he does not get health troubles only to summon you at his side!”
“He better not,” groaned Katsuki, in a fond voice. His parents had been good for him and he appreciated the carefree relationship they had, humour, banter and affection.
“There’s something I wanted to ask. Your last fashion show, there was a guy, I loved his suit.”
“Let me guess, was it a dark grey with hints of silver?”
“Exactly. How did you know?”
“I designed this one thinking about how you would look gorgeous in it.”
Katsuki felt his brow heating a bit.
“Well, yeah, do you still have it? You think you could adjust it for me?”
“You have some place to go?”
“Well, there’s this hero gala, Izuku’s nervous, I thought, maybe I could be there. For support.”
Mitsuki whistled.
“Big development. I won’t let you down, son. But I’ll need you in person. I have to know whether I make you just dazzling or downright sinful.”
“Keep it PG will you? And just go for ‘intimidating’. I don’t want any extras thinking they can be buddy buddy just because I attend.”
“All right!” Laughed Mitsuki again. “Would little Izuku want something matching?”
“Don’t think so. He’s got to wear his hero costume.”

Izuku was already at home, something that didn’t happen often. He accepted the flowers in a delighted squeak.
“Is there a special occasion, Kacchan?”
“Maybe. How would you feel if I came to this hero gala?”
“Oh!” Izuku’s mood darkened. “I don’t think you’d like it very much, it’s so formal, reporters everywhere and…”
“I”m not asking you how I would feel. Just… tell me sincerely.”
“Well”, Izuku fidgeted for a moment. “I can’t say I wouldn’t be happy to have you at my side. It’s kind of a milestone for me, breaking into the top 20, and it makes me nervous too. I feel a bit of an impostor, and you always find a way to soothe me. And I couldn’t say I would not be extremely happy to see at last the two parts of my life in one place, really. But I wouldn’t want to burden you more than you are. I know heroes…”
“So, you’d be happy to have me?”
“Well, yes, as long as…”
“It’s settled then.”
“Are you…”
Katsuki frowned.
“I’m fine. Don’t coddle me. I’d lie if I said that I want to go to a shitty gala, but it’s important to you and you’re important to me, and that’s all that matters.”
There wasn’t any more hesitation, and Izuku’s smile was blinding. He threw himself into Katsuki's arms.
“Thank you Kacchan!”

Katsuki breathed deeply through his nose and nervously straightened the dashing suit that fed his confidence. Mitsuki, who was not often allowed to play dress with her son, had gone plus ultra, replacing the formal dress shirt and bow tie by an almost flowy shirt, opened at the collar, and bound by an embroidered pearl grey corset. The general effect somewhat commanded respect and he was grateful to his mother, and a bit impressed by her mastering of her favourite subject.
He had hoped to spend all the night glued to Izuku’s side, but the Hero Commission had got other ideas. All heroes, from rank one to rank 50 had all been summoned prior to the main event, for a kind of pre-party, including a pat on the back and special speeches from diverse ministers. So Katsuki was queuing alone at the entrance of the ballroom, waiting to show his pass to a couple of bouncers before being allowed to the main event. A guard of honour or reporters were scanning the newcomers, trying to link each hero to his plus one.
“This is Miruko’s little sister.” whispered a guy in a white suit. Every year, she’s there, all red and awkward. Last year, she tried to get an autograph from Shoto!”
The other reporter chuckled at that.
“You won’t get a good story from a frightened teenager. What about…”
Katsuki didn’t hear what followed, because at this moment, someone tapped his shoulder and he turned to face a bush of pink hair and a far too cheerful smile for such an occasion.
“Bakugo! I didn't expect you to be here! Come to support the significant other?”
“Hatsume, advertise my private life, will you?” he hissed.
But Hatsume looked unphased. She never was. She had showed herself a few times at their home, as she was a good friend of Deku’s, and she couldn’t be bothered by anything except her creations.
“Private life? At a hero gala? Don’t get your hopes up!”
She had a point.
“What are you doing here yourself? I didn’t expect it to be your scene. It smells too clean for you. Not enough motor oil!”
She laughed heartily at the jab.
“It’s a one-time thing. I have to meet three potential clients at once, and it saves me time to get all of them in the same place.”
“Clever.”

By the time they had been chatting, the queue had been slowly progressing, and they both showed their invites to the bouncers in dark suits. Hatsume darted to her first meeting and Katsuki looked around for some secluded place where he could wait for Deku in peace. His plans were trashed as soon as the reporter in a white suit laid eyes on him.
“Bakugo Katsuki! The famous hero hater, at a hero gala? Am I dreaming?”
“I don’t hate heroes, obviously”, huffed Katsuki, who knew he should have shut his mouth.
“Maybe not,” conceded the reporter. I’m Saijo Kenta. Could I have a word from the hero of the heroes?”
“What kind of bullshit are you spewing now?”
“Don’t you like it? I think it could look good on a headline. How the doctor of the heroes came to support those he nurtured back to health. So heroic!”
“I didn’t come to support all these morons, and I’m not the doctor of the heroes, either. Not my fault if so many of them knock at my door.”
“You work at a clinic for the poor and the homeless. Admirable!”
“What are you trying to achieve, here?” cut an exasperated Katsuki.
“What? To get a good story out of you, of course. And I didn’t even bring out the shining ring on your finger. Or the fact that you claimed that you didn’t come to support ‘all’ of them. So, who’s the happy person? One of your faithful patients maybe?”
“If you think I’d ever sleep with my patients, you clearly don’t know me at all.” snarled Katsuki, to gain some time. He had expected to do this with Deku at his side, not blindsided by a too clever reporter. And worse: he was supposed to be there to support the nerd, not to be the one needing help.
“You’re right! How about I take a little time to get to know you better?” The journalist answered cheerfully.
“Listen,” said Katsuki, refraining himself from adding ‘dickhead’ or any other nice attribute, “let’s make a deal. Don’t piss me off, and if I feel like it, I’ll talk to you at the end of this thing.”
The journalist looked up, in a seemingly pensive expression.
“Why am I thinking that you set up impossible standards there?” Katsuki couldn’t help but bark a laugh. He had not given the man enough credit. “But alright. I agree to your terms. Don’t go…”
They were interrupted by the blaring of trumpets, and a speaker announced the arrival of the heroes. An excited hush fell in the room, and two doors, which could have let in an army of small elephants, slowly opened to the music of a classic opera.
“Show-offs,” murmured Katsuki, and again, the laugh of the reporter answered him.
The heroes, like a colourful parade, started walking towards the stage, situated, of course, on the other side of the gigantic room. Number one to number three were on the front, followed by the numbers four to ten, the only ones who were required to talk individually. The others, level ten to fifty, were a more chaotic crowd behind them, and Katsuki looked for some green among the crowd. He found him. Still small, his hair still a bit too long, but with the fierce and determined look he only got in front of villains. Katsuki felt a pang of pride and love. This was his nerd, and at this moment, he felt happy to be here, to witness firsthand what Hero Deku was about, see for himself the smile that never missed putting the civilians at ease, combination of his natural gentleness and the aura of strength that surrounded him.
“What’s this soft look on your face?” Asked the reporter at his side.
“Falling in love over again,” he grumbled, earning a delighted squeak from the man. “Which one is it? Woman? Man?”
Katsuki didn’t answer. The top heroes had reached the foot of the stage, where they were greeted by a woman with a microphone. Flashes were crackling, as the heroes were obediently taking as many poses as the photographers requested. Katsuki witnessed Deku being lured by former students of the class A, all doing the same victory sign with their fingers. Deku was smiling, but his shoulders looked tense and his eyes kept wandering in the crowd. Katsuki deliberately walked forward, splitting the crowd. He stopped at the line of the photographers.

Deku was nervous. His break-in in the top 20, being one of the youngest achieving that feat, had called a lot of attention, and he felt his people-o-meter reaching his limit. And Kacchan, unexpectedly, had decided to come? What if he felt uneasy and resented him? Shoto drew him in the group of his friends and he made the victory sign that had become their (very lame) trademark. He couldn’t see a thing past the line of flashes. What if Kacchan was sulking in a corner? What if he had left? And then he saw a crown of fair hair, Kacchan’s brand, his own label. He disentangled from the hands, limbs and bodies of his friends and walked towards the interval between the reporters where his husband had magically appeared.
And there he was, in all his glory, and it was as he was watching him for the first time. His outfit was the opus of an alchemist, transforming the dark matter of the jacket into the dazzling white of the shirt, and suggesting the transparency of the heart of the man under the clothes. Mitsuki was a genius. He looked up. Katsuki was watching him with a slightly guarded smirk, but a fondness in the eyes that couldn’t be forged. At this instant, he forgot about his anxiety, about the reporters, about the fallout of any of his actions-to-be. There was only him and the love of his life, who was there, to support him, and who had the gall to look like that.
Katsuki watched as Deku was walking towards him, a look of awe on his face.
“So, this is him” said the reporter in white behind him.
He scoffed. Of course, it was Deku. Who else was worth his time? Deku had stopped, and was… what? Undressing him with the eyes? Soon, the hero was back on earth and smiled. Not his heroic smile, but the kind of smile which only belonged inside closed doors. And Katsuki knew the times of their secret marriage were over. He smiled wider, enticing, and not a moment later, Deku was flushed against him, his hands on his neck, their noses only millimetres apart. Katsuki was lost in the intensity of the green eyes of his husband, breathing the warm air that came from his mouth, a parody of the kiss they’d share later, when less eyes would be on them.
Speaking about eyes… The reporters had formed a half circle and were shooting non-stop. The lovers exchanged an understanding smile and disentangled themselves a bit. It’s when Katsuki noticed Deku was wearing his wedding ring too. The little sneak. He grasped his waist in a possessive move and drew him closer. He had earned it. In the same movement, they turned towards the journalists, under the whistles and shouts of the class A heroes.
“Ready?” asked Katsuki softly.
“With you? I’d go to the end of the world and back.”