Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Katsuki groaned as he walked, trying desperately to massage the tension out of his shoulder. He was exhausted from the long day. Honestly, the last few days had all been hellishly long, but today was especially brutal on him. With the extra surveillance work, and a shitload of paperwork on top of his usual hero work, he was barely making it through some of these days without passing out in the office.

He had mostly become accustomed to the 12-hour shifts– 2 months of that shit certainly forced his body to get used to it– but he typically was only asked to work those shifts once or twice a week. Today, on the other hand, had been his 3rd 12-hour shift in a row with a 4th creeping its way closer and closer as the day drew to its end. The hero was more than ready to get home and fall into a long, deep slumber before subjecting himself to the same routine tomorrow. 

Katsuki snaked his hand into his pocket to open his phone and text his husband that he’d be home soon, but the blonde was instantly reminded of the mess waiting for him at home as he caught a glance of the couple's conversation from earlier that day.

Ei: Talked to Jeanist today. 

Ei: He told me about the job.

Ei: Kats, I thought we talked about this…

Ei: Can you at least respond so I know that you’re okay?

Kat: We can talk when I get home.

Ei: … Okay.

Katsuki felt a sharp sting of guilt lace his stomach– or perhaps it was just the revitalization of anxiety for a conversation he did not want to have. His throat tightened at the thought as his mind raced through the list of excuses once again, only to come back to those same lingering insecurities.

Not strong enough

Not brave enough

Not good enough

Being a father added a variety of new stressors to Katsuki’s life, but the most frustrating was how he had been plagued by those thoughts of inadequacy once again. He felt weak. The thought of being unable to protect his kids plagued his mind most nights, especially with the rise in crime rates. Sure, it had been nothing compared to his UA days, but circumstances and time really work to put things into perspective. Now it was a completely different ballgame, and his mind had him convinced he was, somehow, going to fuck it all up.

As he turned the corner– his stomach making it harder and harder to keep a steady pace– he sent the quick “ on my way” message to his husband before clicking his phone off and placing it back in his pocket.

Lost in the daze of his thoughts, Katsuki was suddenly pushed backwards by another body, feeling himself stumble a few steps at the sudden hit before steadying himself once more on the concrete. The rush of adrenaline triggered the blonde’s defense, grounding himself quickly as he surveyed the situation. He looked down to find a much smaller figure on the ground, fallen on their ass and rubbing at the shoulder that had broken their fall. 

Katsuki grimaced. 

Just some fucking extra who can’t watch where they're going , he thought. His head felt the sharp pain return from the headache that had been forming all day– the one he had been successfully fighting off with his abundance of water and painkillers.

Katsuki looked down, getting a clearer look at the person– she had glasses, a mask on, and was wearing her hair up in a slicked back bun. She was brushing some nonexistent grime off her pleated blue top and black slacks. She looked as if she had just gotten off work from some kind of office, clearly not watching her step in her haste to get home. 

Resisting the urge to berate her for not being aware of her surroundings, Katsuki offered his hand to help her up. “Sorry ma’am” he said, with an obvious scowl on his face.

She took his hand and began to stand, looking up at Katsuki with a certain gleam sparkling in her blue eyes. “Oh my goodness,” she squealed in an obnoxiously high-pitched voice, finally realizing the situation her daydreaming had landed her. “I was not expecting to meet the Dynamight today,” 

Katsuki fought back the desire to roll his eyes for the millionth time today. He was already on edge from the week, so one might say his patience was starting to wear (incredibly) thin. “I have to go, miss,” he said, giving a half-assed smile as he began walking again towards his home, but before he could get far, he felt a rough tug on his arm that quickly turned him around to face the woman fully again. The movement felt strong and intentional– all things that immediately sent up red flags in Katsuki’s mind.

“Wait, I’m a big fan!” For a moment, Katsuki stood still, confused, unsure sure what his next move should be. It had been awhile since he had to deal with a fan like this. “I’ve been following you ever since you faced that sludge villain!” Katsuki twitched at the mention of a memory he was happy to forget. “You are so brave and strong and well… You are certainly a looker!” She smirked, now looking straight into Katsuki’s eyes, still holding onto the arm she nearly yanked off. 

Katsuki grit his teeth and felt his face flush with heat, rage brewing along his cheeks. This lady was seriously creeping him out. Not only was it insanely inappropriate to try and hit on a pro, but she was also holding down Katsuki after forcibly getting him to pay attention to her! And what was with the sudden mention of the sludge villain? It all served to further add fuel to the ever-growing fire from Katsuki’s shitty day. She had more than done enough to lose any kind of respect Katsuki was trying to feign.

He was easily able to jerk his arm out of her grip, and give her a death glare before silently turning around towards his house. Silently he walked – deciding it’d be better not to reward her behavior with any kind of acknowledgement. His PR manager would be so proud of him

As he quickened, she yelled out, “maybe we could get lunch sometime!” And Katsuki felt his veins tighten, and his teeth clench at the shrill, high-pitched voice. As he walked, he practically prayed to whatever higher deity there was that he’d never have to hear or see that woman again.

…

As Katsuki quietly opened the front door, ensuring the clicks and creaks were as close to silent as possible, he slipped off his shoes and began his trek upstairs. He could hear the muffled voice of his husband gently speaking to their kids, lightly lulling them to sleep with their nightly bedtime story.

As he reached the top, he stopped right outside the door that led to the twins’ rooms– not wanting to ruin his husband's work of settling them into bed. He carefully leaned his head past the door frame, just enough to catch sight of Eijirou. 

His husband was beautiful like always, his hair tied up into a low ponytail that allowed his bangs to loosely part across his forehead. Eijirou was reading from Akane’s new favorite book, Beauty and the Beast, and Katsuki couldn’t help but notice the small smile that crossed his face as he read to the two drowsy angels in bed. 

Eijirou looked up for a moment, double taking before meeting Katsuki’s eyes outside the room. Almost instantly, his face fell to a tired expression– a reminder to Katsuki that his long day had not ended yet. 

Eijirou licked his lips as he reverted his gaze back down to the book in his hands. “And just before the beast closed his eyes, Belle placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Suddenly the beast was transformed back into a human. Belle hugged him, and they shared one last true love’s kiss. The End.” Katsuki grimaced. This book wasn’t particularly his favorite, and it was far too centered on romance for his liking– the notion of true love’s kiss always made him roll his eyes– but both Eiichi and Akane seemed to love it, so there wasn’t much he could do other than wait for them to move on to another book. Any other book.

Eijirou quietly kissed their children goodnight, tacking on a quick “I love you” after. The kids grumbled back a drowsy response, as he tiptoed out and flicked off the last small light in the room. Katsuki moved away from the door frame, giving Eijirou room as he stepped out and closed the door.  

After releasing a breath of air, Eijirou made a pointed look towards Katsuki, one he had become more accustomed to as of late– not angry or sad, but disappointed. He motioned for Katsuki to follow, and they moved down the hall to their room silently. 

Katsuki quickly stripped out of his street clothes and into some pajama pants and shirt, not hesitating to make his way to his little carved out nook on the bed. The silence in the room was overpowering, tension thick enough to slice. Katsuki looked over to Eijirou, who was sitting on the end of the bed, head down and eyes pointed to the wood floors in their room. Katsuki sank deeper into the covers, hoping he could fall asleep before the inevitable.

Eijirou let out a low sigh before breaking the silence, “Can we talk about it?”

Katsuki laid on his side, looking pointedly away from his husband. “I don’t think there’s much more to talk about. It’s already happening…” He heard Eijirou breath in hastily, as if he had a quick retort, but he once again released it. Katsuki’s shoulders tensed under the covers, and he resisted with all his might to look over at his husband. Attempting to steady his breath, he said, “Listen, Ei. I know I said we’d talk about it tonight… I just…” Katsuki bit on his lip, searching for the words.

“... When we started this family,” Eijirou said, interrupting the hanging silence Katsuki had left open, “we decided we’d prioritize the family over any mission.” Eijirou stopped for a moment, but Katsuki only grit his teeth, unsure on how to respond, “The kids need you... Kats, I need you.” Katsuki heard his husband’s voice shift towards him. He finally turned his head towards the man, only now seeing the deep, untreated eye bags he was carrying. “If you really needed to be on this mission, that’s fine,” Eijirou continued, “but what if something had happened to you? What were we going to do? What was I going to do?” 

“But nothing happened to m-” Katsuki tried to cut in, sitting up in the bed, but Eijirou quickly countered.

“-that’s not what I mean.” He said, voice growing more frustrated and hand motioning to stop Katsuki’s movements. His eyes broke contact, looking away and hiding from Katsuki’s gaze, “I just thought this was our decision, and if it was going to be your decision, I wish you would’ve told me that instead of just hiding it from me for… what? 2 months?”

Katsuki felt that familiar tinge of guilt stab at his stomach once again; the small fire that had built up throughout the day started to gnaw and bite at him, digging from the inside out. The spiral of thoughts began to swirl again and Katsuki felt his breathing begin to deepen in a low growl. “I didn’t…” He started, but immediately caught on his breath. He couldn’t look at his husband. He was embarrassed and tired and stressed and all he could think about was how weak he had become. “I didn’t think it’d go on for this long, and I couldn’t let Jeanist do it by himself, I didn’t want to let him down, I thought it’d be alright. I mean, it has been alright. I’m fine, you’re fine, the kids are fine.” He knew those were all excuses– a way to gut out the pain and guilt from hurting his husband– but all it did was cause Katsuki to spiral deeper.

He suddenly felt a warm touch cover his hand, immediately halting the thoughts, and he suddenly realized how much his volume had increased when compared to the vast silence. He looked at Eijirou, who somehow had gotten much closer during his rant. Katsuki couldn’t quite place the expression on his face. It wasn’t disappointment like before– rather something neutral and contained, as if he was holding himself back. “Kats,” he began slowly, being very careful about his words, “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay…” Patience. Eijirou was always so patient with him. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just wish you would’ve told me… that’s all.” Eijirou rubbed his thumb softly over the bruised knuckles Katsuki always seemed to wear.

His throat went dry. He couldn’t find the words. Lately, he felt like he could never find the right words for Eijirou. It always felt too hollow or too passionate or just too much. He never could find a middle ground. 

Even now, he thought about his words that had just barely left his lips and couldn’t help but feel regret. All those words, all those excuses, and Katsuki couldn’t say his one real reason. He still couldn’t admit to his own fears– even after all the work he had done to heal, to better communicate– it all came crashing back in his face once push came to shove. 

Weak

So he said nothing– letting his husband make his own conclusions on what Katsuki felt because he just felt like he couldn’t anymore. 

Eijirou squeezed his hand once more before lifting himself off the bed. “I’m…” He said, hiding his face from his partner, “I’m gonna grab some water. Go ahead and start going to bed. You’ve had a long day.” And before Katsuki knew it, his husband was gone and out of his reach. 

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the burn-out, or the fucking extras that just kept getting in the way of his plans, but Katsuki couldn’t help the bubbling anger sloshing around him, mixing with the guilt and some lingering self loathing to create a cocktail of emotions he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager.

Pathetic

Katsuki gripped his hair, trying to massage his throbbing headache and screaming thoughts– practicing his breathing and focusing on the little sounds around him. His eyes caught the family picture they took about a year ago, him, his kids, and husband. He focused on the details, and it all brought him back to Earth. That picture seemed to be the only thing that could bring him back these days– the messy bangs that draped over Eiichi’s forehead, the dirt under Akane’s nails, the sewn in patch work on Eijirou’s shirt.

Eijirou…

He thought back to that conversation he and Eijirou shared when he first was offered the job. They were both wary of the offer at the time. After all, the last time one of them had been involved in an undercover drug bust, someone died. So, of course, the smartest decision was to decline.

Right?

Katsuki thought about the villain attacks leading up to the job offer. How he couldn’t seem to get a win. He lost so many people those weeks. He could barely sleep most nights thinking about the cost of all those fights. Could he protect his family in this condition? Could he be a proper father? Husband?

Inept

Maybe he was just being selfish– wanting to chase the dream just a little further. Go a step deeper. Feel the thrill one more time. He honestly wasn’t sure at this point. 

The blonde let out a deep sigh, shifting to now lay fully in the bed, completely enraptured by the thick, warm sheets he and Eijirou loved so much. As he closed his eyes, he remembered what that damn woman said. 

“I’ve been following you ever since you faced that sludge villain!” her words echoed in his head, getting louder and louder with each second. Repeating like the melody of a lullaby, rocking him to sleep in his bed made up of lies and self-pity.

That fucking sludge villain. 

Worthless

Katsuki let his eyes drift, seconds away from sleep with the random thought escaping his lips, “maybe it would’ve been better if that fucking sludge killed me.”

CLANK!

The sudden noise quickly jolted Katsuki awake, habitually bringing his arms up, as if ready to blast someone, but all he saw was Eijirou standing there stunned– a now empty cup of water spilled over the hardwood beside him. 

“Fuck!” Katsuki said as he jumped out of bed and grabbed a small hand towel from their bathroom, attempting to soak up all the water with it. Eventually, Eijirou blinked himself out of his trance, and grabbed a shirt from the laundry basket to help clean the spill. 

They both sat there on their knees doing a rather poor job at trying to contain the small bit of water. Katsuki grit his teeth, feeling the lecture that Eijirou was about to spill, and just wishing he had fallen asleep when he had the chance. The sudden spike in Katsuki’s heart rate had gone down now, and he could once again feel the awkward tension between him and his husband.

“Don’t joke about something like that…” Eijirou said in a small but harsh whisper, more bite to his voice than he had let out previously. Katsuki remained silent as he stood up with the wet rag and shirt, beginning to take them to the washer right across from their room. “You were joking, right?” Eijirou asked once Katsuki returned– a neutral expression feeling comfortable across his face.

He was so tired, just processing the Eijirou’s words had him using far more brain power than he had available to him. He felt the fire begin to flicker back up, and he did his best to continue to douse it with buckets of water, but it seemed to only spread the shame around his body like a wildfire. A part of him thought about ignoring the man, knowing anything he said right then was probably wrong for a myriad of reasons.

He looked at Eijirou’s pained expression. He sighed as he brought his hands up to rub at his tired eyes before answering with a simple, “... yes…. I was fucking joking…”

Katsuki looked back at his husband, who made no movement and no real change in expression. He just stood there, staring at Katsuki like he was some kind of zoo animal. The blonde scowled, giving his husband a moment to respond, before turning and trudging to his spot in bed once again. 

“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” Eijirou said, making a poignant movement towards the extra blankets and pillows they kept in the closet. He was out of the room far quicker than Katsuki thought possible, leaving him in a frozen trance.

As if breaking some kind of spell, Katsuki quickly followed his husband, who was already halfway down the stairs, “Ei?!” he said in as loud of a whisper as he could manage, trying his best to not wake the kids as he raced past their room. “What the fuck? I literally told you I was joking!”

“It’s not-” Eijirou started before suddenly stopping himself once he reached the couch, emphasizing the movement with an almost too loud thud – dropping the blankets and pillow harshly on top of the cushion. “Look,” Eijirou said after turning to face his husband and crossing his arms, “you’re tired, and I just… I can’t do this today, okay?” Eijirou turned around making his bed for the night, “We can talk tomorrow, or the day after, or whenever you decide you’re ready to talk about whatever is going on with you.”

Katsuki stood there, silently watching his husband create a cavern of distance between them. His patient, calm, rational husband was done with whatever game Katsuki’s emotions were deciding to play with him. 

Once Eijirou finished making his bed, he stood straight up and gave Katsuki an unimpressed look. “Katsuki… just go to sleep,” he whispered, almost too quiet for him to catch.

That seemed to snap something in Katsuki– his whole hell of a day finally crashing down in front of him. He stumbled back, turning around with a huff and mumbling to himself as he climbed the stairs to his room about a stupid fucking joke that Eijirou wasn’t even supposed to hear. Once he got to their room, he– barely – resisted the urge to slam the door shut, remembering the kids sleeping not too far away. Katsuki instead jumped into bed, pounding his fist on an unsuspecting pillow before wrapping himself in the thick blanket once more. His mind raced on as his body forced him to fall into a deep, yet raging, sleep.

…

“Hmhmm” Katsuki hears among the black void he seems to be trapped in, the taunting laugh echoing from all directions around him. It’s low, but clearly feminine in tonality. He can practically hear the way the person is smirking, teasing him from beyond the shadows of the empty space. He begins surveying his surroundings, taking just enough steps to turn his body in place– unsure how much ground he has available below him. “Hmhmmhmmmmm,” he hears again.

“Show yourself you fuckin’ coward!” Katsuki yells, the last word, especially, echoing across the vast space, repeating 4 or 5 times before finally fading into a deafening silence.

“Oh Katsuki Bakugou…” He hears whispered into his ear. He jolts his head towards the sound, but sees nothing. “Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!” It continues, now coming from multiple directions again, “That’s one long name, Hero.” Suddenly, Katsuki can see some kind of silhouette starting to approach him, appearing from god knows where, but clearly the source of the annoying voice. She spoke again, allowing Katsuki to pick up on the slight directional sound of her voice– confirming to him the silhouette was hers, “You must think pretty highly of yourself, huh?” 

He gritted his teeth, beginning to charge towards the silhouette, until he felt his muscles stiffen up, causing him to stand rigid in place, as if his joints had been glued in his current position like some kind of action figure. As he tried to move other parts of his body, he found the same result– body tense and straining against the unnatural position.

“You really need to learn how to mind your business, Pro.” She chastised, “Besides, who would look after your precious family if something were to happen?” Katsuki’s eyes widened at the threat, jaw clenching and veins popping in place as he fought against the magic placed on him. He tried again to move towards her, still unable to see the bastard’s face, but so sure where she was.

“If you fucking touch anyone in my family, I’ll blast your fucking face off!” Katsuki choked out, resisting the tightness of his jaw and tongue enough to spit the words out at the woman. Every muscle in his body strained; every ounce of strength he had attempted to break free of his binds– but it was no use. He was stuck. 

Katsuki let in a sharp breath of air as the figure that had once been shrouded in darkness and mystery was now standing face to face with him, suddenly lit by a spotlight coming from god knows where. She stood in front of him for a moment, simply smiling tauntingly at him, and Katsuki took the opportunity to study her features, memorizing her face to the smallest detail. 

She appeared young, at least a few years younger than him. Her skin was youthful and clear with the exception of a cut that slit through the right side of her upper lip. The cut was very faded, making it easy to miss at a glance, but luckily Katsuki had experience with these kinds of situations. 

Her eyes pierced him with their wickedly bright blue edge. The sight paired with her eerie smile did more than enough to send a shiver up his spine. She had thin, rounded eyebrows that heavily contrasted the sharp, angular shape of her eyes. However, they easily disappeared under her mane of hair. She wore long, wavy black hair that hit right above her shoulder, with curled bangs that covered the majority of her forehead, further pointing to her creepy fucking eyes. 

Got it! Katsuki thought, mentally saving the image in the data files of his brain. 

Scarface leaned back, furthering herself out of Katsuki’s personal bubble. She kept her shit eating grin plastered on her face as she crossed her arms, head high enough to almost, literally, look down at Katsuki. “Oh Katsuki,” she said in a sing-songy voice that sounded far too happy for Katsuki’s liking. “You were so damn close too.” 

Katsuki’s eyes widened, finally processing all the words she had said throughout the interaction. He mentally kicked himself for getting distracted by his rage before tuning back in, memorizing her words to the letter.

“But you just don’t understand who you’re dealing with,” her voice dropped low and Katsuki didn’t have to look up to tell that she was still smirking down at him, “Tell me something, Hero,” she said, lightening up her tone enough to give Katsuki’s ears some fucking mood whiplash. She let out a small chuckle, barely half a breath before making eye contact with Katsuki once more, intently biting out her last words enough to send flakes of spit towards the man's face, “Haven’t you ever heard how you should be careful what you wish for?” 

Just as quickly as she emerged, she disappeared, leaving Katsuki to hear only the echoed remnants of her deep and slow laugh in the black void, frozen, with no way to scream for help. The constant vibration of her resonating laugh rang throughout his ear drums– the screech showing no signs of fading. Katsuki’s heart rate quickened; his breathing became heavy; he tried once more to scream for help, for his family, for Eijirou before-

Suddenly, Katsuki was jolted awake, sitting up quickly as his body tried to find his breath again– heaving in and out deeply, doing its best to slow his rapid heart rate as he collected himself. He clenched at his chest, gripping his nightshirt, further stretching the stitches along the collar and almost ripping it all together

Once his breathing slowed, his vision finally cleared and his body could sense the immediate change in environment. At last, he looked around, taking in the room: the single twin bed with a bookshelf headboard, the slightly off-white walls plastered in All Might memorabilia, the well-worn wooden desk across the room that Katsuki could’ve sworn his parents had thrown out. 

He was in his fucking childhood bedroom. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki carefully began to pat himself, feeling his arms, shoulders, and chest. He placed two fingers on the soft cavern below his jaw and felt the steady beat of his pulse, reassuring his heart was still beating, and his body was still breathing. 

He lowered his hands and dug his fingers in the bed below him, testing his senses and how he interacted with the world. He stretched his arms up above his head– an unintentional yawn escaping his lips as he felt for his rough, fluffy hair. His hands snaked down to feel his face, double-checking the traces of his scar across his cheek. 

It all seemed there. 

He slowly got up and out of bed, carefully feeling the floor below him– taking his time to place his full weight as his feet slowly shifted from toe to heel. With each step towards the bathroom, he grew less and less cautious, feeling more confident with each step that the hardwood beneath him would not crack or crumble 

Once he reached the bathroom, he wasted no time to examine himself in the mirror– checking for changes in his features and ensuring he was the same version of him he saw reflected in his mirror yesterday.

Katsuki’s worked in this business for a long time. He was plenty familiar with quirk related incidents, having experienced one too many during his career. And this situation had all the signs of Katsuki being targeted by some kind of annoying ass quirk.

However, doubt laced his mind as he leaned away from the mirror, feeling confident that his face had been left unchanged. The woman in his dream, who he mentally dubbed as Scarface, seemed so sure in herself, so sure she had fucked him over somehow, but this? This just felt like a simple teleportation quirk– sure, annoying but not… dangerous. 

Katsuki pondered on this as he searched through his old drawers to find something to wear other than the ratty grey shirt and limited edition Pro Hero Deku pajama pants he always  wore to bed. 

He pulled out the first shirt saw– black with a splash of some kind of red design– but Katsuki immediately noticed something strange with the clothing item.

It was… very small, much smaller than anything Katsuki had worn in a while. The blonde was sure he had cleaned out his room recently enough to no longer have clothes in these sizes. He checked through the drawer, rummaging through the pants and shirts, only to find that everything was like that. Too small. 

Giving up, he took a mental note of the oddity before slowly making his way downstairs. He hadn’t checked the time, but the sun was high enough for him to know that it was well past when his parents typically got to work. And although it would’ve been nice to talk with the old man– especially about everything that went on with Eijirou the night before– he still wanted to try to get home as soon as possible to hopefully figure out what the fuck was going on.

As he slowly made his way down to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but notice some… strange changes around the house. The wall that stood holding the stairs, which was once plastered in pictures of Katsuki, Eijirou, his parents, and their kids, was now almost completely barren– the only decoration being some shitty ass art that seemed far too “modern” for Katsuki’s tastes and even further from his mother’s usual fondness for eccentricity.

He passed the family room, noticing that the nice, colored, fabric furniture that he had grown up with had been replaced by dull, grey leather. Not to mention there was less of it. The house was more open, yes, but it was also far more drab and boring. The color that once brightened the space had been stolen and replaced with a lingering taste that was unseasoned and stale. As much as Katsuki would make fun of the chaotic elements of the house, those were what made it home, so seeing this just raised more flags in his mind.

He really needed to get home.

He quickened his pace to the kitchen, keeping an eye out for anything else out of the ordinary. Just as he was about to open the fridge door, he noticed a small note taped to the barren door.

Masaru,

Have a good day at work! I’ll miss you! See you when you get home! I love you <3 

- Mitsuki

Notes were never Mitsuki’s thing. She was usually a bit more reserved with her affection– similar to Katsuki– showing that she cared in the small, unnoticed acts she’d carry out. His father was very aware of it and even celebrated it as one of her greatest strengths, so would be lying if he said the small note didn’t add to the ever-growing list of weird shit going on. 

Katsuki opened the fridge, finding it almost empty, shy of some milk, a basket of oranges, and some lunch meat. He grimaced at the low stock before grabbing an orange to take on his walk to the train station. Katsuki peeled the fruit quickly and raced out of the house, deciding he could nibble as he walked to save a minute of time.

…

As Katsuki walked, peeling off slices of the orange to then scarf down, he began to notice changes in the streets– a similar feeling he had while at home working its way down his throat. The streets he had been walking down were different from the ones he remembered. The structure, layout, and names had all stayed concrete, but it was quieter. Not a peaceful quiet, but one that threatened to be challenged with a cheerful laugh or kind word. There was a lingering tension in the air that hadn’t been there before.

Getting closer and closer to main roads, he began to see graffiti and trash more and more. Some parts of the streets, that once were pristine and clean, now laid vandalized with cracks, marks, and paint. His serene and safe little neighborhood was leaping ever closer into resembling a sketchy alley way he might find in the depths of the city. 

The light breeze tickled Katsuki’s spine, filling him with unease. The true reality of the situation finally beginning to settle in his mind. He had no clue what was going on, but it certainly wasn’t something good.

Looking up and out of his stupor, Katsuki saw a silhouette walking towards him, seemingly just having turned a corner coming from the direction Katsuki was headed. Katsuki had never been so relieved to see another person in his life. 

There had been the fleeting thought that perhaps the quirk had sent him to some dystopian future where there were no people left, but he was so thankful to be proven wrong. Although the man loved his time away from people and society, the thought of traversing this reality alone had him in a new spiral of doubts and fears.

As the figure got closer with each step, Katsuki could start to make out the most prominent features: lanky, square build, an inch or two shorter than Katsuki with messy, untamed green hair.

Wait…

Green?

“Deku?” Katsuki said once he caught the bold color that he knew all too well. Katsuki stood strong, but curiosity couldn’t help but weave its way into the simple name.

The figure stopped, finally noticing Katsuki standing in front of him, but as soon as his eye caught Katsuki’s, he paled– frozen as if he had just witnessed a murder. “K… Kacchan?”

The familiar nickname warmed Katsuki’s chest almost enough to feel some sense of comfort. He raced closer to the man, hoping with all his heart for it to be the damn nerd.

Katsuki stopped maybe 3 feet away from Izuku, feeling completely certain now. His green eyes and freckles matching the image of the man he grew up with and fought alongside for years now. This was his childhood friend. He allowed a tense breath to leave his body, letting himself collapse into his own chest and arms as he took in the man in front of him. 

“Fuck…” he sighed, feeling his quickened pulse, “I’ve never been so happy to see you in my life.”

The shorter man stayed still, frozen– a twitch in his eyebrows being the only indication  he had heard the blonde.

Katsuki, coming down from the small burst of adrenaline, finally allowed himself to truly see his friend. 

Even Deku was different here, similarly changed to reflect this broken and beaten world around him. His hair was flatter, more oily, and longer, falling in front of his face more than before. His eyes no longer gleamed with the bright optimism they once held. Now they were heavy and burdened with deep bags beneath them. The most striking difference, however, was his scars, or lack there of. 

As Katsuki’s eyes traced over the man’s figure, he saw no remnants of Izuku’s scars– any of them . Yes, the one on his face was missing, but almost more concerning was the absence of the scars that laced his right hand. Those same scars he had gotten within their first few months in UA… just gone.

“Fuck…” Katsuki whispered out as he combed through his hair, “What the fuck is going on here?” Katsuki asked, directing his speech more to the universe than the man in front of him, who still seem just as stuck as he was a moment ago.

They stood there for a long minute, Katsuki’s wide eyes still and unfocused on anything, with Deku across from him, staring and gawking as if he were some statue in a museum. 

And just as quickly as it started, the silence was broken, the scuffling of shoes catching Katsuki’s ears. As he focused his attention forward towards him, he was surprised to see Deku… running away?

“Hey!” The blonde said as he sprinted through the wide sidewalk, following close behind the scrambling man, “GET BACK HERE YA DAMN NERD!” 

It was fairly easy catching up to the idiot. The guy was flailing everywhere, arms and legs uncoordinated with no clear direction of where he was going. Another difference Katsuki wrote in his mental list. 

The Izuku Katsuki knew was fast , always training his strength and agility. Although Katsuki’s faster than the nerd while using his quirk, if they were on an even playing field, Izuku would destroy him in a race. He’d never admit that fact out loud, but they both were aware of Izuku’s speed. Some words can be left unsaid.

Propelling himself up and over the scarless man with a few well-timed explosions– a simple feat he’s been able to do since middle school– he was able to block him from forwarding his movements, holding onto his shoulders to ensure he wouldn’t run once more. The idiot was still wide-eyed, looking Katsuki up and down and muttering something incoherent under his breath. He didn’t struggle in his grip, but Katsuki could tell his friend's breathing had become frantic and uneven.

“Fucking hell!” Katsuki said, dumbfounded by his disturbing response, “What the fuck is-”

Before he could finish his thought, Izuku’s eyes grew, focusing on something just past the explosive man’s head. Katsuki knew that look almost immediately. The look of fear was a common one, and he was well acquainted with it.

Throwing the man to the ground, Katsuki turned around, already aiming his hand towards the spot Deku had his eyes focused on. Once he saw a crazed pair of eyes paired with a knife, he shot them a blast– too small to harm the guy, but big enough to blind his sight and throw off his movement with the smoke covering. 

Katsuki hopped in the opposite direction, dragging Deku far behind him so he could face the threat without the nagging echo of worry filling his head. 

The man with the knife slowly got back to his feet, scowling at Katsuki with hunger in his eyes. Before he could reorient himself enough to attack once again, Katsuki caught a flash of bright coral hair– a glimpse of a second villain zooming through the air right towards him. 

Katsuki dodged the second man’s attack just barely, ducking into the ground and coming back into place with a light push up. Hopping back, he saw the quick jab of a blade aimed directly at his face and dodged the knife almost on instinct.

“Who’re you? Never seen a hero like you ‘round here?” The knife guy said rapidly swiping at the hero, getting faster and faster with each movement. Katsuki was able to quickly dodge the weapon, ducking and leaning as he looked for an opening. 

Katsuki leaped backwards, using an explosion to mask his action once again. While in the air, he further propelled himself up, lifting him through the air and over the thug trying to cut him up. He reached a great height, able to see the rooftops of all the house and even some taller buildings, before taking his 5 seconds of free fall to check his surroundings for the second man. He spotted the guy glued to one side of the building, continuously moving his body back and forth, seemingly attempting to gain the energy of the momentum the movement provided.

Katsuki kept his eyes locked on the man as he propelled himself down with the help of his blasts and the weight of gravity. The speed of his dive increased with every blast, and he knew if he was going to evade both these pricks, his timing would have to be just right.

Finally, the fast guy released his energy, moving at a speed greater than Katsuki could hope to match– but he had dealt with fast fuckers before. After all, his class president was one of the fastest hero’s in the business, so Katsuki was more than prepared for some fast random extra.

He saw the flash of movement grew closer, aiming directly to hit him on his descent, but as the guy was midair, Katsuki let out a quick blast towards the street that launched him back into the sky just enough to catch a few more seconds on the guy, before he directed one more big explosion into the clouds. The recoil of the blast aiding his fall once more, he crashed into the speeding guy's back, dragging him down through the sky until they both landed on the man with the knife. 

The fall wasn’t bad, especially for Katsuki– who had fallen much greater heights than that even back in his UA days– but it was enough to knock the two hoodlums out.

Katsuki quickly ripped two long strips of fabric from the bottom of his shirt and used them as rope to tie the villain's hands. It wasn’t a lot, but it’d do until the proper authorities could take care of them, especially since the pair was easily knocked out.

Reaching for his pocket, Katsuki instantly remembered that he was without a phone until he got home. He heaved a heavy annoyed sigh at the situation before turning around and spotting the damn nerd watching him.

His face was struck with a mixture of fear and amazement– eyes blown out, unblinking, as if he were going to miss something in the millisecond his eyes would need to re-water themselves. 

“Hey, Deku!” Katsuki called out, tone sharp but not angry, “Gimme your phone. I need to make sure the authorities know about these guys.

Something seemed to click in Izuku’s head. A switch flipped and Katsuki could see the man breathing again. He quietly fumbled his phone out of his pocket and threw it to Katsuki. The blonde dialed the emergency number with haste and answered all the preliminary questions, having done it a million times before. He gave the necessary information about the crime, location, and the thugs he had tied up, and thanked the line worker before hanging up. 

He tossed the phone back to Deku, letting the man fumble once again to catch it. Katsuki crossed his arms, staring at Deku but with a calm silence present– allowing the man to process for a minute. He wasn’t sure what was up with this Izuku, but he was certainly different from the annoying bastard he left in his world. 

“Oh my god…” he whispered once his phone was secured in his pocket. His eyes now narrowing onto Katsuki ever so slightly as if he were a blurry image he couldn’t quite make out. “Kacchan?... Is that really you?”

Katsuki cocked an eyebrow at the man, biting down the urge to curse fucking Scarface for putting him in this predicament. He was not excited about reacquainting himself with another version of Deku, but he needed answers about this world, and if Deku was one thing, it was observant. “Yes, it’s fucking me,” He stated, helping the man up and onto his feet.

“Oh my god! How are you here? What happened? Did I miss something or was there some kind of quirk that brought you back? No. That’s impossible. But if it’s impossible how are you here? Oh my god! I’m so sorry for everything! If I had known it all would’ve happened like that, and maybe if I had been stronger and better at fighting, and I hate it and I think about it every day, and I just can’t believe you're right here in front of m-”

“Oh my god! Shut up!” Katsuki interrupted, shoving his hand in the nerds face to shut his mouth and immediately feeling the sting of tears coat his palms, “I’ll answer all your damn questions as long as your ass can shut up and listen to me for two fucking minutes while I try to wrap my head around everything. Capiche?”

Izuku managed to give a slow nod in response, agreeing to Katsuki’s impromptu deal. Slowly, Katsuki removed his hand from Izuku’s face, anticipating another flood of word vomit but was pleasantly surprise to find the man immediately following the request– stilling himself and watching Katsuki intently, waiting for his next words to leave his mouth.

Katsuki let out a sigh and combed his hand through his hair. He knew he was about to sound crazy, but this seemed to be his only hope at the moment. “Okay, so I think I’m from some kind of alternate universe or dimension or world or some shit like that. I don’t know how, but this… this… lady with a scar on her face appeared in my dream last night, and suddenly I wake up in my parent's house and in this weird world where nothing seems quite right and… fuck… I don’t know what’s going on, and I know I’m probably making no fucking sense, but that’s really all I know so far…”

He looked over at Deku, who was listening earnestly, seemingly interested in the bizarre concept Katsuki had brought up. Once he realized the blonde was done speaking, his posture slumped forward, almost as if he was… disappointed?

His lips pressed into a line, and Katsuki could see him searching for the right words. “Okay…” he sighed, “Let’s head over to my apartment, and we can figure it out…” He started walking towards the city once again, seeming to forget why he was coming into the neighborhood.

Katsuki’s eyes widen, “Wait… you believe me?”

“... Yeah, well…” Izuku said without turning back, head curved into his chest, “It makes more sense than the alternative…”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Deku turned around for that, now staring at Katsuki in disbelief, “You said you woke up at your parent’s house.” He said sternly, “Didn’t you see it?”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Katsuki bit back.

With a huff of frustration, Deku rerouted their course once again, grabbing Katsuki’s wrist and dragging him once more towards his parent’s house. Katsuki followed, attempting to free himself a few times– expecting it to be as easy as racing with this version of the nerd had been, but his grip strength only seemed to be stronger in this universe. His wrist stayed in place, Deku’s hand only tightening throughout the walk. So accepting his fate, he let the man drag him– clearly frustrated with the blonde in a very similar fashion to how his Deku often was. 

So maybe they weren’t that different after all, he thought.

…

Hastily making it to the front of the house, Deku pushed Katsuki to the front door, “Just… check the living room…” he said, tone hushed and somber, eyes downcast to the floor. 

Katsuki gave him a puzzled expression, but made his way inside without saying a word. The house was exactly the same way he left it when escaping earlier that morning. The furniture minimal, modern, and expressionless with few pictures on the walls beside the shitty grim art that defaced the rooms.

He walked past the family room and the stairs, paving his way into the living room near the other side of the house. Silence melted through the space, even more so than that morning. Katsuki could hear every step he took, the way his weight shifted the floorboards aggravated his ears. 

As soon as he stepped into the living room, Katsuki saw it. 

A small stool, lifted just a few inches off the ground, adorned with unburned incense and candles. A singular blue flower with multiple buds and small, little petals laid on the front view of the wooden surface– looking freshly picked. However, just behind the flower stood a single framed picture. The simple gold of the frame lined the edges and drew the eye to the center: the subject of the shrine. The picture captured a boy with a small, lengthy frame and blonde hair with ruby red eyes that burned through the frame and emphasized the deepening scowl he always wore on his face.

Katsuki slowly stepped closer and closer to the picture, kneeling down in front of the shrine, double and triple checking what he was seeing wasn’t merely a trick of his eyes, but there was truly no denying it.

That was him

He was much younger in the photo, having his black middle school uniform on– top three buttons undone in his meager attempts of defiance. He had seen many pictures of himself from middle school, and in reality, this picture was no different from the ones in his own universe, but the sadness they held was one felt throughout the whole house. 

Katsuki’s eyes scanned the shrine, searching for some kind of answers, but everything simply led him to a myriad of questions. This couldn’t possibly be the reality in this universe. This couldn’t possibly be what happened to him. 

He tugged at the warm pajama pants he was still wearing, sensing the soft fabric warming the rough skin of his hands. Tangent . His fingers slid down to the wood beneath his knees, cool to the touch. Tangent. 

His eyes stayed glued to the picture on the shrine. His fingers twitched, and his breath became uneven as a lump began to form in the back of his throat. Slowly, and taking extreme care, his hand reached up to graze the wooden shelf. Just a touch. Tangent.

His fingers glided to the pristine flower, tracing up the stem and feeling one of the soft, delicate petals. The feeling made Katsuki wonder if the petal was newly damp, or simply just cold. He gently rubbed his thumb and index finger over the soft edges, the silky texture finding its way through each crevasse of his fingerprint. Tangent. 

Releasing his grip, his eyes locked onto the last item. The one he hoped more than anything was simply an illusion. A sick joke his mind was playing on him. The soft pad of his finger grazed down the edge of the picture frame– soft ridges etched into it. 

Moving his hand once more to the center, he reached for the boy in the picture. The boy so lost in hate, and ego, and pride, and self-loathing. He reached for him, as if he could pull him out of the picture, and wrap his arms around him. Whisper how everything will be okay… and simply allow him the space to breathe. Everything he wished he had gotten.

But he couldn’t.

All he could do was feel the cold glass separating him from the picture. Tangent. 

Katsuki lowered his hand, the memory of the touch lingering on his fingertips as he placed them in his lap. He bowed his head at the picture before turning his head to look up at the man standing behind him. He found Izuku staring at the picture, arms crossed, closing his body off to Katsuki’s presence. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as the picture held his attention.

Silence filled the space between them– a brick wall of air separating the pair into two somber rooms filled with loss and regrets. “What hap-” Katsuki started but immediately silenced himself hearing the sound of the front door opening in the other room. 

The two men scrambled back into reality. Katsuki jumped up out of his spot on the ground, almost freezing in place and feeling his heart rate skyrocket at the sound of his mother's huffs and sighs. Genuinely unsure what to do, he looked to Deku for guidance. 

“Go out the back door,” the green haired man whispered, “she cannot see you.”

Katsuki started racing towards the back door, jostling his head as if he had just broken out of a spell. 

“Oh Izuku!” Katsuki heard his mother say as he reached the door. “What are you doing here, sweetie?” 

That was his mother, but like everything in this universe, she was different. Even just by the sound of her voice, Katsuki could tell. She sounded weak, something in her voice broken and heavy. No more was the harsh sarcastic tone that had afflicted his childhood. Instead, she sounded like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, any second feeling like she might crash and crumble to ash.

Her sound was no longer loud and boisterous. No challenge seem to lace between her words. She sounded quiet, frail, and… delicate. Katsuki never thought his heart would break so much hearing his mother’s tone change so drastically. He used to flare up at her, matching her tone and volume– scoffing at her words and challenging her threats. This was nothing like that. This was her at her lowest, and Katsuki hoped to never see his own mother like this.

“Oh sorry!” Deku said, nerves still intertwining with his voice, “I was just… thinking of Kacchan a lot today, so I wanted to visit him. Maybe talk a bit.”

Mitsuki let out a small laugh, low and breathy, sounding far more sad than any laugh should, “That’s funny dear. He’s been… I’ve been thinking of him a lot today too.” Her breath hitched at the last word, and Katsuki felt his heart crack once more. 

In his 29 years of life, he’d only ever seen his mother cry maybe 3 times. It was an odd sight, but always had the same heartbreaking effect on him. 

He heard her breath become uneven, and a muffled sob escaped her lips, “I’m sorry Izuku,” she said, words seeming to be dampened by something– perhaps Deku was holding her now, keeping her safe in the warmth of his shoulder. “Today has just been very hard for some reason…”

Katsuki felt the ping of guilt pierce his heart. He couldn’t take this anymore. He slowly reached for the doorknob, silently turning it and stepping outside into the cool afternoon breeze. Once the door was closed, Katsuki leaned against the house, taking in slow, deep breaths– attempting to soothe the lump in his throat. 

His eyes shifted up towards the sky, seeing the full spread of grey, dreary clouds fill the space above him– rain threatening to show its ugly face again. Katsuki always hated the rain, but he allowed himself to stand in it, feeling the cold water bury his guilt further and further into the pit of his stomach.

He pressed an ear to the door, hearing the similar sobs and cries he had left behind. His head rested, pressure building up behind his eyes, and tension rising in his shoulders.

What the hell happened here? 

Chapter Text

Katsuki couldn’t remember how they got to Izuku’s– the travel blurring in his head and washing away with the accompanying rain. He remembered Izuku leading him through the neighborhood– the pair once again facing those same defiled streets Katsuki had roamed moments ago. He remembered being guided onto a crowded, bustling train– small chatter and idle conversation filling the space, yet only silence passed back and forth between him and his freckled friend. 

Everything in between was a memory lost to Katsuki; his mind became stagnant looking out the window of the train. His eyes glazed over the familiar grey, noticing how it coated all of Japan, a dark shadow that fell over the country.

By the time they reached Izuku’s apartment building, the light of the sky had faded into the soft tones of blue and orange, mixing into a cocktail that grew more blue by the minute. Katsuki’s gaze drifted to the skyline. He noticed the faint outline of the moon behind the hidden clouds that blended the grey sky into a rough charcoal. The soft glow of the moon and stars was always something Katsuki looked forward to at night– the absence only helping to deepen the bags under his eyes.

Izuku brought him into the house, feeding the blonde a hardy dinner and pouring him an iced glass of water. There were no words said in the time that passed– a quiet understanding that Katsuki needed some space to process the last few hours. So Izuku waited– busying himself with dishes and laundry– just doing what he could until Katsuki was ready to speak.

Even in this universe, Katsuki was impressed by how well his friend seemed to understand others– always able to read a situation and instantly know how to help. Although he’d never admit it to Deku, it was something he greatly admired about him.

He needed this. The quiet sounds of the fan and small rustling of dishes and clothes. The comforting stillness of the couch below him and the warm, fuzzy blanket on top of him. The luxury to lose time and let his mind drift off into a hallowed hall. He needed all of this, and was desperately grateful that Izuku was allowing him the space to indulge in it.

“Okay Nerd…” Katsuki huffed out, sitting on the couch cuddled up, head resting all the way back and eyes almost fully lidded shut. “I’m ready… What happened?” He glanced over at the entrance of the kitchen, hearing the rush of running water switch off into nothing. Not long after, the lean man appeared in the living room, apprehension painting his face, a new line of worry with every stroke.

“You sure, Kacchan?” Deku’s voice rasped out, as if the silence put more strain on his throat than his constant talking and muttering.

Katsuki bit back the urge to roll his eyes as he sat up, giving the man more of his attention. “Yes. I need to know, so just spit it out already,” he growled as he crossed his arms, a scowl burning holes through Izuku.

“Fine…” Izuku sighed, coming over to sit next to him on the couch. He brought his legs up into a crisscross position on the couch, chest caving into itself before releasing a breath of air. “It… it was my fault…” Katsuki’s scowl softened into light surprise at Deku’s statement. “It happened in middle school near the beginning of our third year. I was walking home from school, and I should’ve been aware of my surroundings, but I wasn’t, and I got attacked by this sludge villain.” Katsuki’s eyes widened at the mention of the monster he faced so long ago– the story starting to sound more and more familiar with each word. “He almost killed me, but he didn’t. All Might saved me.” Izuku shifted his gaze at Katsuki, eyes broadening as if he forgot he was telling this story to a person rather than simply speaking out loud to himself, “Do you have an All Might in your reality?”

“Yeah…” Katsuki said, his lips forming a line on his face that almost had the faint tracings of a smile.”He’s- He’s the greatest… in the whole universe.”

Izuku returned the soft smile for a flicker of a moment before bringing his eyes back down to the floor, “Yeah, he was…” With a deep breath, he continued, “Anyway, All Might saved me, but I was an idiot, and I was so desperate to be a hero, so I followed him and… he just… he wasted all his power on me, and I distracted him from his hero work. I asked him if I could ever be a hero without a quirk, and he told me no…” Izuku’s eyes left the floor and darted to the opposite side of the room, his expression obscured from Katsuki’s view. “So, I went home…”

Katsuki heard the man’s voice hitch. He slowly brought his face back into view as he wiped away a light trail of tears– a slight sob forming as he caught his breath, continuing to push down the lump in his throat.

“I- I didn’t know what happened until I got home and when I tried to help… it was too late…” Deku’s eyes blurred with tears, fighting tooth and nail to be released from their green cage, “If I had been there, I could’ve done something. If I hadn’t talked to All Might, the sludge villain wouldn’t have gotten away. If I hadn’t distracted him for so long, he could’ve used his energy on you instead of me…” 

Katsuki’s posture straightened. He had heard Izuku’s side of the story one or two times. Nights the pair got drunk flashed in his head– Izuku getting all mushy and annoying, yapping about how much he valued their friendship and how grateful he was for Katsuki, despite their rocky past. Supposedly, all that same shit with All Might happened, but Izuku hung around the area, following the crowd that led him to Katsuki. 

As Katsuki began to connect the dots between each event, he realized the glaring difference. If Deku had gone home, then “All Might didn’t save me, so I suffocated…” he said, the realization being stated more as a fact. 

Izuku’s head bolted to look at Katsuki, his face in utter shock at the way he read his mind, “How did you…”

Katsuki knit his eyebrow and bit his lip, “Same thing happened to me, but… you were there… and you came charging in like an idiot with some death wish.” His eyes widened as he processed his own words, feeling the statement finally sinking in, “And then All Might showed up and saved me.” 

Heavy silence stretched between the two men. Katsuki’s breath became low and shallow and his mind buzzed with grief for his alternate self. A sob directed his vision back to the freckled man beside him, his throat tightening at the sight.

Izuku’s dam finally broke. The cries that had been threatening him in the last hours finally burst, and he could do little to stop them. Tears drenched his face along with a line of snot lining down his chin, “Oh my god Kacchan! I’m so sorry!” His voice rasped and hiccuped, struggling to release each word through the tunnel of tears. “It was all my fault and I regret it every day!”

Katsuki suddenly felt the pressure of the loss fill the room. He wasn’t great at this stuff, but he had dealt with this brand of Izuku before. Grief and guilt manifested their way through his head often, especially on lonely nights. So Katsuki had a morsel of an idea on how to comfort the man when he talked himself into this dreary state. 

He scooted closer to his friend and lightly wrapped an arm around his shoulder. The weight of silence is heavy with Izuku’s sobs the only thing moving time forward. He let his friend cry for as long as he needed, gently tracing his back until the sobs began to quiet.

“You can’t blame yourself for something like that.” He said once Izuku’s breath had slowed, “you can’t tell the future any more than I can. My Izuku made the exact same mistakes you did but just so happened to be in the right place at the right time. Plus, you’re not the fuck ass villain who attacked me. You’re not the fucking heroes that couldn’t save me. Don’t put all that blame on yourself just because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

As Katsuki talked, he heard Izuku’s quiet breaths slowly heaving up and down– becoming long and deep. The movement was big enough to be felt throughout his back and shoulders, Izuku expertly controlling the rise and fall. Every now and then, his breath would quiver and shake, but with each and every new expansion, it became more and more steady. The peaceful silence grew and expanded through his body until he looked up at Katsuki with a small, but grateful grin.  

“You know,” Deku started, voice a bit hoarse and dry but with more life in it than Katsuki had heard all day, “All Might told me the same thing.” The blonde quirked an eyebrow at his friend as he wiped away a lingering tear. “He came to visit me after everything since you and I were…” Deku lightly shrugged his shoulders, “close, I guess.” 

Katsuki grimaced, feeling a familiar guilt swirl in his stomach. He had long since made amends with his Izuku for the mistakes of his past, but he knew this version of Deku must have had different feelings towards him that may have been warped by the mixture of guilt and grief he also felt. 

Deku carried on with no hint of malice present in his voice. Instead, Katsuki felt the warmth of nostalgia fill the air between them, “But he pretty much told me the same thing, before handing me a UA pamphlet for the support course. He told me there were other ways to save people besides being a hero. We kept in touch quite a bit that first year. I think he stopped me from going down a really bad path, so I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”

“You never-” Katsuki cut off his voice, unsure what facts about One for All were known in this universe and what had been kept a secret, “You never became a hero?”

Deku gave him a light smile before shaking his head, “Not technically. I kind of gave up on that dream a while ago, but I’ve still managed to help people. That’s what it all came down to, honestly. I’ve worked on a ton of hero gadgets, and even made myself some strength enhancing support items. A lot of my work at UA stemmed from the work I did during the war against the League of Villains that wa-.”

“Fuck!” Katsuki spit out, head practically spinning with all this new information he was attempting to process. “I fucking didn’t even think about the war! What happened?! How the fuck is everyone okay?!?”

Izuku let out a sigh and stood from the couch. “Listen, we can keep talking about all of this if you want, but if we’re going to talk about the war more, I need a drink.” He tilted his head to the side and stared down at Katsuki, “And honestly, it looks like you could use one too.” He reached his hand down for the blonde to grab, and he easily pulled him up to join him as they surveyed Deku’s selection of wine and beer.

…

The pair settled back into the living room with glasses of rich wine in hand as Izuku did his best to catch Katsuki up on the last 15 years, and how the world came to be in this saddened, grey state. He told him of his rigorous academic studying for the UA support course entrance exam. He talked about getting in and receiving personal congratulations from All Might, and about the frequent visits the hero would make for him that did good to motivate Deku.

He told him of Mirio Togata gaining status as All Might’s successor within his first few months teaching at UA. He told him about how he specialized his inventions and research towards rescue heroes– those training to help citizens more than fight in battle. He told him about meeting and connecting with up-and-coming heroes who wanted to save people like him. 

He told him about the war and how he not only created support gear for the heroes in training but also for those who could only help from the sidelines, like him. He told him about how the war started; how he was placed with rescue heroes tasked with looking for citizens caught in the cross fire and getting them to safety while other support course students stayed to help the heroes fighting. 

From what Katsuki could determine, Izuku seemed to know fairly little about the exact actions that occurred during the war. He could rattle on and on about rescuing civilians and all that, but anything that involved the actual fighting was pretty much lost on him. But at least Izuku could summarize the two key points: 

They defeated the League of Villains.

The cost was greater than anyone could’ve imagined. 

“Even though we won, it’s been difficult for heroes to keep villains off the street. Heroism is pretty scarce now, and people aren’t looking at it as a profitable or glamorous profession anymore. Those of us in the business do what we can to aid the heroes– support workers, police officers, international agents– but there’s only so much we can do, you know?” Izuku bit his lip as he leaned back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “There were so many casualties in that damn war… people have sort of lost trust in heroes altogether. I mean… even All Might…” Izuku’s words lodged in his throat.

Katsuki looked over in surprise, fear coated his eyes as the concept finally clicked in his brain, “Did All Might…?”

Izuku nodded still staring up at the ceiling, understanding the meaning of the question before it was asked. His eyes glazed over themselves, as if he had become numb to the pain of death. Meanwhile, Katsuki felt his heart cry out, stinging and cursing his chest with pain. 

He couldn’t believe all this– the pain and grief and suffering– was the cause of one fatal accident. An event he barely even remembered, yet one which managed to claw its nails into this world and never let them rest from it. The idea sent a shiver up his spine. 

A set of familiar words made its way into Katsuki’s slightly buzzed brain, taking him back to the night before, to his fight with his husband. 

‘Maybe it would’ve been better if that fucking sludge killed me.’

Katsuki’s eyes widened as his brain searched for the words the fucking scar faced lady told him: ‘ Haven’t you ever heard how you should be careful what you wish for?’

Suddenly, a new fear pinged its way through Katsuki’s heart. His breath hastened along with his pulse, and he grabbed Deku by the shoulders, forcing him to look to the center of his ruby eyes. “What about Eijirou?” He said hurriedly.

“Eijirou?”

“Fucking…” Katsuki’s grip tightened on Deku, as if that would jog his memory any faster, “Eijirou Kirishima!? Red Riot!? The Chivalrous Hero Red Riot?!” Katsuki’s eyes begged Izuku for answers, but all he saw in response staring back at him was confusion and concern laced in the round, green eyes.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan… I don’t know who that i-”

“He’s fucking…” Katsuki quickly interrupted, mind rummaging for words that seemed lost on his tongue, “He’s a 6-foot tall idiot with red spiky hair and red eyes and a dopey grin, and he’s… Gah… he’s the fucking love of my life…” 

With each word, his breath and volume became louder and louder, his articulation growing with his sound. He searched Izuku’s face once again, hands tense against his shoulders, only to find that same confused expression, but this time intertwined with a drop of pity. 

“Fuck!” Katsuki yelled, letting Izuku loose and bringing his hands up to his hair as he cleared his vision of his bangs, “Oh my god, this is all my fault! I can’t believe I’m such an idiot! And now he might be gone, and my kids might be gone… oh my god!” Katsuki couldn’t help the panic quickly wrapping itself in his voice. His heart raced, and he felt like he was seeing stars.

He felt two firm hands copy his actions and grip his shoulders, forcing his body into stillness. Deku stood at eye level with him, giving him a firm look, “Kacchan! Calm down. Why the hell would this be your fault?” Izuku’s grip loosened just a tad as his face morphed into slight apprehension seeing Katsuki’s panicked state. 

Katsuki brought his own hands up to his face, rubbing the bags under his eyes and feeling his heightened breath against his palms. “No I…” His hands traveled to his hair, gripping his scalp, “We got into a fight, and I was pissed cause of a dumb mission, and extras and this stupid fucking girl and I made a dumb, shitty joke, that I didn’t even mean and that’s why I’m here! That fucking Scarface shithead put me here because I asked to be here!” 

Deku dropped his hands, looking lost for words. “Uh… okay, okay! Don’t worry! We’ll figure this out, okay?” 

Katsuki created distance from the man as his brain raced a mile a minute, ping ponging through idea after idea– trying to think of any other way that he could figure out if Eijirou was okay in this fucked up world. As if a light switched on in his head, he quickly moved to the front door, shoving his shoes on. “Where are we?” he asked.

“M- my apartment?”

Katsuki glared at the freckled face, “No idiot! Where in Japan?”

“Oh- uh…,” Deku glanced down and combed his hand through his hair in thought, as if he didn’t know where he fucking lived, “Just outside Chiba.”

Katsuki stopped, midway through putting on his second shoe to stare at Deku, “Seriously?”

Deku gave a quick nod, intently watching for the blonde’s next move.

“Fuck…” Katsuki breathed out, astonishment– and maybe a bit of hope– escaping his voice, “That’s… sort of perfect.” He quickly finished putting on his shoes and opened the door, ready to leave.

“Wait, where are you going?” Deku yelled, following Katsuki out the door.

“I’m gonna go make sure my husband’s okay!” And with that, Katsuki was already running down the stairs of the apartment building, racing to the familiar home Eijirou grew up in.

…

Katsuki stopped in front of the small house. A familiar sense of fear entered his head once again as he gazed upon the house he had seen a million times. A feeling of dread lurked in his stomach, curdling and shaping with each of Katsuki’s breaths. Panic seeped through his bones. The possibility of Eijirou not being there– how maybe he was gone from this timeline too, an unfair consequence of Katsuki’s selfish words– overtook his mind.

Katsuki swallowed his fear and walked up to the front door, each step feeling heavier and heavier with weight. As he reached the door, he made certain to give it a firm knock, ensuring to be heard over any late night activities. 

There was a strand of stillness, sound absent within the space. Katsuki held his breath for the brief millisecond it lasted until he heard quick scuffling vibrations coming from behind the door. A low, deep voice– muffled by the wall separating them– seemed to get closer and closer, and Katsuki’s heart pounded with each decibel louder the voice became. 

Opening the door was a well-built man with broad shoulders and muscular arms. He met his gaze, not quite reaching eye level, standing about two inches taller than Katsuki. Katsuki’s glance caught the sharp point of his eyes, and they shimmered the familiar crimson red he loved to wake up to in the morning. His gaze tracked down to his sharp teeth and his heart begged to be greeted by the bright, enchanting smile he fell in love with. His eye’s quickly grasped at the beauty of the faded scar above his right eye, wishing to trace his finger along it like he had a thousand times before. 

This was Eijirou. 

But not his Eijirou. Like everything in this universe, he was different. The sparkling gleam in his eyes no longer radiated light, and the posture he always kept so nicely straight was slouched and crescent, and– most glaringly– was his hair. 

No longer was he sporting the bright red dye that Katsuki could envision with his eyes closed. The same red dye that was so intrinsically a part of Eijirou’s being. His confidence. His identity. His inner self. Instead, his natural black hair color was on full display– free from the damage and brittle that his dye and gel often caused. 

The sight forced Katsuki’s mind to wonder to images of their daughter– the black hair she inherited from Eijirou swelling his heart and doing little to soften his heightened emotional state. Eijirou wore the unfamiliar locks loose, allowing the strands to fall down in front of his face. The slight wave did well to frame his features, the high contrast making his piercing red eyes glow in the darkness surrounding the house. 

Eijirou absolutely sparkled in Katsuki’s eyes. He could stare at the man forever, indulge in his fantasy and watch him as if he were a god gracing his presence to his one true follower.

Even with the glaring differences, it did little to stop Katsuki’s overwhelming joy at the sight of his partner again; the relief that he was alive washed over him and grabbed hold of his heart. His breath caught in his throat– forming a lump that had seemed permanently embedded into Katsuki’s voice as of late– and he couldn’t stop himself from lunging at his beautiful idiot. “Oh my fucking god!” He said, arms wrapped around Eijirou in a warm hug, “You’re okay! Oh my god! I can't believe it! I’m so happy you’re okay!”

Katsuki felt the man under him stiffen as a pair of soft hands quickly worked to push him off Eijirou. He backed off for a moment, surprised at the sudden aggression, only to realize the source was from the dark haired man himself. 

Katsuki’s brain finally caught up with his emotions– the fact finally dawning on him that this version of his husband did not know him. He suddenly felt like an idiot. Katsuki was quick to raise his hands, attempting to signal some form of innocence. He quickly opened his mouth to say something, but Eijirou immediately beat him to it, “I don’t know who you are or how you think you know me, but if you don’t get off our property right now, I’m calling the authorities.” 

There was such harshness woven in his tone– a similar bite Katsuki had heard before, but it had always been directed at villains, or thugs, or the shitty men who’d try to hit on Mina or Ochako. Never once had Katsuki been the one on the receiving end of that voice. Never.

Eijirou’s frown radiated anger; his eyes burned through Katsuki’s skin, and Katsuki felt a flash of fear of his husband dip itself into the pit of his stomach. “Please leave,” He ordered.

“You-” Katsuki started, voice hushed, just above a whisper. He searched Eijirou’s face for any sign of recognition, even the smallest hint, but found nothing. “You really have no clue who I am?”

Eijirou’s brows knit together, confusion spread through his features, with a dash of annoyance. “Eiji!” A high voice called from inside the house, breaking the tension between the pair. Katsuki immediately recognized the voice, but he stayed quiet, the parameters of this universe flashing through his head again. “Everything alright?”

“Yes, mama! Don’t worry!” He yelled backwards, dipping his head inside the house, his voice swiftly transforming into the sweet honey Katsuki was used to hearing. He snapped his head at Katsuki, scowling and looking him up and down. “Listen, I have no clue who you are, but I will not hesitate to call the police right now if you don’t get off my property.”

His husband’s words froze him in place. A thread of longing grew from Katsuki’s center, hoping and begging to wrap itself around Eijirou’s heart, but it was too far from reach. His eyes darted across the familiar face, searching once more for something that wasn’t there. He was right. Eijirou had no clue who he was, and Katsuki felt like a fool for thinking he might.

Katsuki was broken out of his stupor by scuffling and loud gasping sounds behind him. He turned to see the shadow of his messy haired friend jogging towards him, nearly tripping over the grass that laid out in the yard. As he approached closer and closer to the house, the porch light did well to light his face, showing the beads of sweat he formed during his run over.

“Kacchan!” Deku yelled once his eye caught the blonde, overwhelming relief filling his expression, and Katsuki suddenly felt bad for leaving him in the dark. Izuku’s focus almost instantly caught the dark haired man beside him. Deku approached with a smile, reaching to grab Katsuki by the shoulders, “Oh hi! I’m sorry if he bothered you! He’s a bit drunk.” Katsuki looked appalled at his friend’s attempt at an excuse before looking at Eijirou’s reaction.

The man seemed starstruck– remnants of the sparkle in his eye that Katsuki loved so much had somehow returned as he looked at Izuku. “You're, um, Izuku Midoriya, right?” he asked.

Izuku’s expression flicked rapidly from apologetic to surprised to a bright and wide excited grin before walking up and offering a bow to Eijirou, “Yes, I am! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Eijirou happily returned the greeting, holding back a smile as he did so, “The- The pleasure is all mine! Thank you for everything you do for Japan! Me and my moms are big fans.”

Astonishment filled Deku, leaving him at a loss for words, almost appearing as starstruck as Eijirou. Katsuki watched the interaction, seeing the way Eijirou’s eyes lit up, recognizing the nerd. In this instant, he appeared closer to the Eijirou that Katsuki knew, the one he grew up with and fell in love with– completely opposite of the man who had just threatened him. 

Katsuki’s head fell. Yes, Eijirou had changed in this reality, but he was still Eijirou. He just wasn’t his Eijirou. His heart and spirit were intact, but he had no connection to Katsuki. Or more accurately, he had no desire to connect with Katsuki– not like he had at UA. The one person who always welcomed Katsuki with open arms, with a smile on his face and skip in his step was pushing him away. 

Eijirou had loved Katsuki for so long. He was always the one there to catch him when he fell, or to reach out when he stumbled. He was always there, willing to give him a chance, even when they first met. Eijirou had loved Katsuki for so long, he forgot what it was like to live without it.

Katsuki– with eyes downcast to the shadowy grass that was made darker by the house’s porch light– started walking away. The cool night air finally caught up with him, eliciting a chill along the hairs of his arms.

“H-Hey!” Izuku called out, “Wait one second!” 

Katsuki did not wait. He kept walking, shoes scraping against the concrete in a quiet shuffle– serving more like mud that he sunk deeper and deeper into. 

“Sorry about him.” Izuku said, sound directed towards Eijirou, “He’s really amazing once you get to know him! He’s just having a rough night.” Shuffling grew louder behind the blonde  and Izuku easily caught up to him, matching his slow pace on their walk home.

…

The silence as they walked was deafening. Katsuki could practically hear Izuku’s brain working into overdrive, stressing over what he should say and how to break the quiet, but he simply stayed speechless. Katsuki couldn’t decide if that was for better or worse at this point. His shitty day turned into a literal nightmare with each passing minute, and he felt like he just couldn’t handle it anymore.

Katsuki suddenly stopped, about halfway back to Izuku’s apartment. All his thoughts and feelings throughout the whole day began to crash into one another, overwhelming him into a panicked silence. He retraced his steps over and over in his mind. What went wrong? How could he have done better? 

But with each path his mind took him down, it could never change the fact that he asked for this. It didn’t matter that it was an off the cuff comment to cope with his terrible day because maybe a small part of him did mean it. A part of him– even if it was the tiniest speck of self-hatred he still held– asked for this, and he got what he asked for.

And now all of this was his fault.

Suddenly, a step forward felt like too much. The overbearing weight finally cracked down on his back, dowsing him like a fire in a snowstorm– making him crumble into dirt and ash that was ready to be consumed by the earth. 

So there, in the middle of the city, on a random street sidewalk in the depths of the night, Katsuki knelt down, brought his head to his knees…

And began to cry.

The sounds of the city were muffled behind him. Cars beeping and people chatting became low and deafened. The only sounds that rattled around through Katsuki’s ears were his own heart beats and the screams of his cries making their way out of his throat and into the world.

He cried for his mother and father, for the immense grief they must’ve felt over the last 15 years. He cried for Izuku, who carried the weight of guilt for years– believing he was the cause of the faults of this world. He cried for All Might, the hero who once stood as the Symbol of Peace now gone– a fate he only imagined in his worst nightmares.

He cried for his children. He cried for his sweet, loving baby boy, whose heart was as pure as gold and mind was as sharp as any. He cried for his beautiful daughter, who bit and clawed and bossed around– her strength and courage as loud and boisterous as her dads. He cried as he pictured their bright faces, their smiles, their laughs, and their pouts. His heart ached knowing they were gone from this world. Vanished. Never meant to exist in this fucked up timeline.

He cried for Eijirou– the love of his life, the man he took for granted, the one who saved him. He cried, remembering that the way he left his Eijirou was through angered and tired eyes– snapping at a man who was simply trying to keep him safe. He cried knowing this version of his husband never knew him, never stood by his side, and never saved him from a path he was always grateful to never have crossed.

He begged with all his heart he could take back the words he said– that he could take back the stupid choices he made in his state of self-loathing, and he cried knowing that he never could, even if he somehow clawed his way out of this universe and back to his own. His words will still always remain said.

Katsuki sat, and cried, and sobbed until there were no more tears. Until there was nothing left in him to give. 

At some point, Izuku had helped him up, acting as his cane, and brought him back into the warmth of his apartment, but he didn’t care. There was a part of Katsuki that simply wanted to keep falling further and further on the corner of that street and in the middle of that sidewalk.

As he drifted into an exhausted sleep, on a soft cushion he was unfamiliar with, all he could think and comprehend in his last moments of lucidity was: I did this to myself.

“Hmhmm” the sound echo’d in the vast darkness Katsuki found himself trapped in once again. He knew that annoying laugh– the sound of it had haunted him all fucking day.

Katsuki tried to scream at the voice, yell and thrash and make it hurt, but he couldn’t. His voice escaped him, lips moving, but no sound was produced.

“Oh sweetie!” the voice said, ringing in his ears and throughout his body in a million different places. “Doesn’t your throat ever get sore from all the screaming you do?” She chastised, which only served to heightened Katsuki’s anger even further. “Jeez! I’m really doing you a favor right now, doncha think?”

Katsuki grit his teeth, jaw tensing up as he searched for the familiar silhouette only to be met with void darkness. 

“Sorry bug, I’m a bit exhausted, so I won’t be coming out to see you tonight, but it looked like you were really struggling out there today. I just wanted to check in on my little pet to give him a bit of… encouragement.”

Katsuki quirked an eyebrow up, caution running through him as he listened intently for more information. As much as Scarface annoyed him, she was the one who put him in this situation, so like it or not, she likely knew how he could get out of it. 

“Oh… so you’re going to play nice now?” She teased, obviously tracking something in Katsuki’s movements or thoughts. He hated how little control of himself he had in this dreamlike state. It only further added to his annoyance that she could somehow tell his intentions from a mile away. “Fine,” She humphed, far happier than she should’ve, “I’ll let you talk, but you have a decibel limit mister!” She chided as if Katsuki was some kind of caged animal or troubled toddler.

Katsuki felt an invisible chain around his throat unlock, freeing his voice from its shackles. “What do you mean by encouragement?” he asked testing his voice and the limiters the woman put on it. He was barely able to speak above a whisper, bite still woven within the words but no volume,

“I just want to give you a little hint,” Katsuki could hear the smile within her voice, her mocking tone doing little to calm him. “You were so sad today, I might as well throw you a bone. Not like it’ll change much honestly,” she laughed, “but hey… it’s worth a shot.” 

Her last word filled the space, a prominent T drumming against Katsuki’s ears, making him experience the psychotic feeling of a crazed mind. “Okay! Would you spit it out already then!” He snapped, silencing the echo.

“...Well you’re no fun!” She huffed at him, “Haven’t you ever heard of dramatic effect?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. He despised villains who were obsessed with the theatrics of villainy. They made him want to pull out his hair, just listening to them became a whole new level of a chore.

“You’re very cynical Dynamight. Are you aware of that?”

“I’ve been told,” He grumbled. 

A small ‘hm’ left her breath, “That’s why I thought it might be fun to make you play out a little fairy tale. Meet someone, fall in love, and live happily ever after! Just like in your daughter’s books you love so much! In fact, I felt particularly inspired by that one book! Oh, what was it?” Katsuki heard a snap of fingers vibrate the floor, “Oh right, Beauty and the Beast where…” Sounds of pages turning filled Katsuki’s head as Scarface continued her rambling,  “yada yada yada and true loves kiss breaks the spell, and they all live happily ever after. Right?” Just as quickly, the sounds of pages flipping was punctuated with a loud thunk– the book the psycho was reading from closing in her ever dramatic fashion. “Lovely story! You might want to take a lesson from that Katsuki. I mean…” Suddenly her laugh stopped, the room turned frigid, freezing Katsuki in place. He heard the low rumble of her voice, the threat ever present in her tone. “What else do you possibly have to lose?” 

The cold silence lingered for only a few seconds, quickly breaking with another laugh that reverberated through the hall. This one was loud and boisterous, causing Katsuki to clench his teeth in anger and try to cover his ears with his hands, only to find them chained up, just as they had been in the last visit.

Scarface let out a long sigh, as if the exhaustion from laughing had completely wiped her out, “Alright, I’m tired. Until next time Katsuki!” And with that last tune of her voice she was gone, and Katsuki was alone.

Katsuki’s eyes began to crack open, light pouring into his vision, pupils quickly shrinking from their previous state of sleep. He sat up, groggy from the little sleep he got, and stretched his arms over his head in a rough, disjointed motion. He took in the sight of the beige fabric couch under him and the soft All Might comforter that laid over his legs. The blur of unfamiliar carpet, furniture, and pictures filled his vision, and suddenly Katsuki remembered where he was. 

The terrible day he had endured yesterday beat its way through his memory. His head ached– suffering from dehydration and begging for water and pain medication. The pain was akin to a hangover, but without any of the fun of intoxication.

“‘Morning Kacchan,” He heard behind him, a cheery voice that was all too loud and bright for his pounding headache. “I made breakfast if you want some!”

Katsuki didn’t respond, simply doing his best to wake up. Time seemed to slow because before he realized it, Deku was sitting next to him, setting a plate down on the coffee table in front of him along with a large glass of water.

He looked at the plate covered in eggs and bacon as he came back into his body. An annoying voice wormed its way back into his head and he immediately remembered the dream he had with the godforsaken woman. “Fuck,” he whispered, rubbing his thumping head with the heel of his hand.

“You okay, Kacchan?” Izuku asked, a cautious smile spread across his face.

“Yeah… I just…” He looked at Deku sternly, making eye contact with him to prove he was fully awake and sane, “I need to get my husband to kiss me.”

Chapter Text

Eijirou was looking at something. Something distant. Grainy. Out of his reach. A blurry image only catching focus with each slow blink. 

He couldn’t move. The warmth of his body had evaporated, leaving him floating, soulless– a ghost suspended in place with chains and binds. He was stuck. Watching someone. 

Who was that? 

He couldn’t place the face, but standing there was a clear orb of light in the deep vastness of dark moving shapes. Each one circled around the central figure. There was fighting. He was fighting. A string of people moving towards him, weapons in hand, as he smoothly dodged and blocked their attacks.

The mob of villains moved with ease, smooth and precise, never hesitating in motion but suspended in time. Eijirou couldn’t help but be reminded of those old fighting movies he used to fall asleep to, the fighting choreographed like a complex dance, each limb and joint so particular in movement. 

Eijirou squinted his eyes, narrowing in like a camera, attempting to make out the details of the central figure, but his sleepless nights seemed to have caught up to him, and all he could see was haze. 

His eyes zoomed in and out, singling out specific features one at a time with each new movement, and Eijirou was suddenly hit with a sea of red. Red oozed off the figure, as if it was paint, staining everything it touched, even for just a moment. 

Eijirou focused on the red fabric at the legs, mixing itself with a warm black. The fabric flowed with each movement, never once snagging despite seeming torn to shreds. His eyes traveled upward, catching a pair of red decorating his shoulders, jagged, pointed, and rough. He caught sight of the vibrant, saturated red hair that was manic from the action. The hair was sharp, spiked back, out of his face and practically defying gravity with its stiffness and-

Wait…

Eijirou had seen this before. This figure before. This man, who held all his greatest wishes, and desires, and regrets. 

His gaze quickly narrowed in on the eyes, hoping his vision would clear enough to see the small detail. He spotted rounded crimson red eyes, and a small faded scar that adorned the right side, peaking over his eyelashes just enough to catch sight. It was the easiest tell. 

Without warning, the eyes suddenly moved, electrifying Eijirou. They stared straight into his soul as if challenging him with their presence. 

And his heart dropped-

Eijirou jolted up immediately, gasping awake and clutching at his bare chest. He felt the soft tapping of his heart against his fist as his shoulders rose and fell. He looked around, finding himself in his room, alone. 

It was a dream. It was always just a dream.

He tried slowing his breaths, becoming more deliberate and less chaotic. He focused on the way his ribs expanded and compressed, the air becoming more controlled the more his mind woke. He looked up, gazing around his room, a strange aura of unfamiliarity prodding itself in the creases of his mind.

Go…

Eijirou’s head twisted to the side– the whisper of a voice echoing in the floating dust of his room, no clear direction and no clear owner. He turned himself around a few more times, awkwardly shuffling on the bed to get a better look at his room, as if he’d find the small inkling of a mouse whispering to him to go on some epic quest.

With that thought, he knew his imagination was getting away from him, and figured the voice was nothing but the afterthought of a familiar dream. 

Rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand, he began to stand up, and make his way to the other side of his room, leaning over his scratched mahogany desk, and opening the curtains, fully exposing his room to the shine of morning. 

Leaning back, he heard a small thud against wood. He looked to find his small wooden frame– which lived on the corner of his desk– planted face-first into the textured wood. A soft hum buzzed on Eijirou’s lips as he picked up the frame and carefully maneuvered it back into its rightful home. 

It was easily one of his favorites. A little family photo. Eijirou towered in between his moms in his muted blue scrubs. His mama’s eyes were glassy, holding in tears as she leaned into his side, while Eijirou and his mom confidently posed together, flexing an arm at the camera, a teasing smile wide across both their faces. 

His first day of work. 

There was something about the picture that felt distant. Foreign? A hint of nostalgia slid its way into Eijirou’s face, and he couldn’t help but grin. 

Sighing, he turned to take in the rest of his room, the sunlight adding a new glow and sheen across the dark walls. The bright red punching bag that accented the room with its color was hidden in the corner, only allowed out when Eijirou was actively using it. The door to his closet was closed, making the room seem just a bit more spacious (and far cleaner) than it would otherwise. His bed was messy, the cool blue sheets tangled up with one another in a soft nest.

A grimace snuck its way onto his face as he remembered his dream. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have visions of another life bouncing around in his mind as he slept (even if it had been awhile since the last one), but this dream was oddly different from the others, somehow. 

Typically, there was a clear plot or story Eijirou was following. A plan laid out by his mind to fulfill a false prophecy from so long ago. Usually there was more direction, more details, more stakes, but in this dream… Eijirou could barely make out the shapes and colors surrounding his persona. The fight itself was nothing special, just a vessel to gaze upon this unreal version of himself.

Perhaps he was getting too full of himself. Perhaps his ego was growing a tad too large– thinking of himself as someone to be looked at, to be gawked at like some ray of light? Like someone who mattered to people.

Yeah, okay… he thought, rolling his eyes.

His gaze lingered along the beige colored walls. A few crappy paintings he and his mama had done on their special wine and paint nights. A few motivational quotes accompanied by beautiful morning skies or mountain landscapes. The small cork board he had hanging– no bigger than his mama’s computer monitor– filled with all kinds of different paper: scrapped, line, construction, printer, each one telling its own story. 

It was one of his favorite aspects of his job. Sure, the doctors got the nice paycheck, but he got to make a connection with the patients– sometimes receiving a small token of gratitude wrapped up in a little card that never failed to make him smile.

Eijirou’s favorites were often the ones paired with a small drawing. They were usually of the sick relative or, maybe, a family portrait that made his heart swell. But, if he were honest, he was particularly partial to the drawings that seemed to have no rhyme or reason to them. The ones that simply made him laugh with their obscurity, such as the infamous “half bear-half frog swimming on a duck” as one 5-year-old coined it. 

Those always got a good laugh out of him.

Relatively, the walls were pretty bare, but Eijirou didn’t have much he wanted on them anyway. He always told himself once he collected more things or made more memories, he’d fill his wall to the brim with memorabilia… it just… hadn’t become a priority yet. So he was happy with the few knickknacks that gave the room a little flavor. 

Eijirou’s eye caught the phone on his night stand. Time. Right. Somehow that seemed to slip his mind. He had a guess from where the sun sat in the sky, but he always had a tendency to overestimate, especially when the sun wasn’t in the process of rising like it often was when he’d wake for work.

He walked over and grabbed the phone, unplugging it and immediately noticing a notification from last night.

12:31 am

Mama: Hi sweetie! I know you have work off tomorrow, but is there any way you could make mom breakfast before she goes to work in the morning? I had to do some emergency changes last night (¬_¬) and I don’t think I’ll be up in time.

Eijirou chuckled at the request.

6:07 am

Ei: Of course mama! Was already planning on it!

Eijirou slipped the phone into the pocket of his shorts with a light sigh. His eyes were drawn to the bed, the weave of sheets and the warmth of his comforter luring him into the possibility of more sleep. He playfully rolled his eyes at the thought. He’d better get his day started rather than risk facing the wrath of his mama if (and when) he overslept. 

He walked across the room to his closet, stretching his arms above his head and waking his body up fully as he leaned from one side to the other. A thunderous yawn caught in his chest as he opened his closet door. 

He caught the red glint of the poster rolled up behind his hung clothes, and flashes of last night blurred his thoughts. This was ridiculous. He had put that all behind him so long ago. Why was it all flaring back up now all of a sudden? 

Push it down. He thought.

He quickly snatched a clean black tank top with armholes cut down to the waist and a pair of oversized olive green joggers, cool and breathable– a nice way to beat the September heat.

Crossing the hall as quietly as he could– making sure to be aware of the floorboards that were prone to creak– he easily slid into the bathroom, snatching a clean towel on his way in. 

He was immediately greeted by his mane of hair reflecting back at him, crazed and curling each and every direction. Looking at himself, something seemed off. His eyes kept pulling to the thick black hair that created a rat's nest on his head. Something about the texture? Length? Color? Something about it gave Eijirou pause, but he couldn’t quite place it. He fiddled with the ends of his bangs, getting a closer look at the split ends that hid his forehead. Perhaps he was due for a haircut soon?

Allowing the thought to pass, he began brushing through it, untangling the mess with each stroke and feeling the pull of each knot that had made its home in the hair while he slept. Once the locks had been sufficiently tamed, he started up his morning shower. The steam alone practically caused him to melt. He was excited to revel in the heat and lose himself. In the haze, he quickly removed the clothes covering his lower half and stepped inside the concealed warmth, finding a quiet, almost peaceful, bliss. 

Find…

His breath caught in his throat. The single word twirled in his head, echoing too loud for his ears, causing Eijirou’s neck to twitch. He quickly turned around, the water pelting at his shoulder blades as he searched the shower for the voice. He popped his head out of the curtain, trying to get a clear view of the small, steamy room. 

Nothing.

Eijirou slowed his breath, carefully controlling its pace. He swallowed the odd taste in his mouth as he massaged shampoo into his scalp, attempting to relax under the water's warmth.

…

Eijirou readied himself quickly once he finished his shower, wanting to leave the cramped space of the bathroom as soon as possible. He opened the door, feeling the sudden cool air wash over the new freshness of his skin. 

The light bleeding into the open space of the ground floor was much more prominent than it had been when Eijirou started his shower. The sun glistened along the hardwood, making it sparkle as if it had just been mopped and polished– the swirled pattern of the wood being highlighted by the crisp yellow rays. 

As he meandered through the hallway and into the kitchen and dining area, Eijirou’s ears were greeted by the comfortable sounds of the early morning: the chirping of birds, the soft whispers of a breeze, the buzz in the air that almost sounded like the sun warming up the kitchen bit by bit. He couldn’t help the quiet hum that escaped his throat as he breathed in the beautiful morning mist.

He allowed himself to basque in it, leaning against the glass door that led to the backyard. Its heat comforted him, almost lulling him to sleep. He closed his eyes, bright and bold colors flicking their way through his mind. Shades of red, pink, and orange painted themselves in his eyes, like watercolors expanding onto a canvas. 

Eijirou took in one more gulp of air before he lifted himself up, his legs now holding his weight. He reached for the remote on the table and flicked on a channel that played reruns of some older anime, breaking the silence. He adjusted the volume, keeping it quiet enough to avoid reaching his moms ears, but loud enough to give Eijirou’s mind something to latch onto. 

Pulling his hair up into a loose ponytail and washing his hands, he made quick work of rinsing the rice a few times over until water drained clear in the sink. He popped some into the rice cooker along with water and started it up before heading to the fridge to grab some eggs.

He scrambled up a batch of 8, adding a bit of milk, salt, and pepper, then letting them simmer over the stove until the rice was ready. He plopped in some toast in the toaster and began preparing the coffee machine with enough fresh beans for both himself and his mothers.

As Eijirou began to scoop the rice and eggs into each bowl, his mind was interrupted by the loud yawn of his mom entering the dining room. “Oh! Eiji?” her voice squeaked, coming out of her yawn. “You didn’t have to make breakfast! You must be tired!”

“Nah mom! I was already planning it!” He smiled back at her as she took a seat at the table, “Besides, I shouldn’t spend my days off sleeping in until noon.”

“Baby, you’ve just had five 12-hour shifts in a row. I think you’re allowed a few days of sleeping in.”

Eijirou finished off prepping the food and placed all the bowls on the table, his mom quickly digging in and watching the episode that had been playing for Eijirou as he cooked. He set down the mugs of coffee and a plate of toast, and sat in his own designated spot at the table. He quickly realized how hungry he was and practically devoured his own food without a second thought.

“Oh by the way,” He said as he started spreading butter over a piece of toast, “You should call your prosthetist sometime today about your rash. I mentioned it to Kenji at work yesterday, and he said it’s pretty common with a new prosthetic, but it’s still probably something you should mention to them.”

His mom groaned as she folded herself over the table, “This damn new leg!” She whined, “I don’t even know why I switched!”

Eijirou chuckled a bit at his moms childish pout, about to give her exactly the reason before he was interrupted by a tired voice, “Maki, you know this one’s better for work,” His mama yawned out as she waddled down the hallway, eyes half lidded and sleepy. “And with you coaching again, I’d rather spend the money on a nicer prosthetic than risk you hurting yourself!” 

She walked over and gave his mom a soft kiss, a smile parting both their lips at the intimacy. 

As she passed Eijirou, she leaned down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, forcing him into one of her signature tight hugs as she hummed against his temple. Eijirou leaned into it, hugging the arm against his chest and allowing her to rock them both side to side, and Eijirou couldn’t help but snicker at his mama’s delirium. 

“Than ‘kyou fer makin’ breakfass, Sweetie!” she yawned again into Eijirou’s soft black hair. “I’ll buy you some lunch today or make something yummy for dinner. Whichever you prefer.”

Eijirou rolled his eyes a bit, giggling at her comment ‘cause of course he was going to make breakfast, “It’s fine mama! I really was planning on it already.”

“Well, I’ll still make something yummy later, especially because I need you to do me another huge favor,” She said, releasing Eijirou out of her hug, and instead gripping his shoulders and forcing his eye contact. He quirked his eye up at her as she simply beamed down at him with a bright grin. “Can you do my hair today?” She pleaded.

Eijirou sighed out a laugh and stood up, offering the chair to his mama, who eagerly took it as she handed a brush and a handful of hair ties to her son. Eijirou began brushing the long black hair as his mama ate some breakfast, playfully chatting with his mom about plans for the day. 

Her hair wasn’t the longest Eijirou had seen, but standing at a petite 155 cm (5’1’’) certainly made the length seem longer than it actually was– hitting a bit below her waist. Even though it was difficult to manage at times, Eijirou was grateful she hadn’t decided to cut it. He loved her hair, and it always gave him a good excuse to practice his styling skills a bit.

His mama liked to specifically wear it in two long french braids, especially on days she had to go into the publishers' office for in-person meetings and whatnot. She always said it held up better in the slick braids instead of a ponytail or bun of some kind. Easier on the scalp and not as messy at the end of the day or something like that.

Eijirou tied off one half of her hair, simply getting it out of the way, and began gathering three small sections near the front of her head, carefully beginning the interweaving pattern. Right over center, left over center, right over center and so on and so on.

“So, how’d you sleep, Eiji?” His mama asked, flippantly turning her head to see Eijirou, but not before he stilled it back in place, luckily not losing any of his progress. 

“Good!” He smiled, focus zeroed in on the chunks of hair laced in his fingers, “I was real beat after my shift last night, so I fell asleep pretty quick!” He decided to omit the details about his odd dream. It was probably nothing after all.

“Oh good, I think I would’ve had a lot of trouble falling to sleep after your little run in last night,” His mom said, a knowing glint in her eye as she took a swig of her coffee.

Eijirou couldn’t help his wide, excited grin that beamed at the memory. “Man! I wish you guys could’ve met him! He was so nice! And I actually got to say thank you and everything! It was just… It felt so surreal, ya know?” His chest buzzed with his words– at the memory of seeing someone he had looked up to for so long.

“You know, baby,” His mama chimed in below him, “we’d be so happy for you if you brought home a nice boy like Midoriya someday.”

“Mama?!” Eijirou yelped, almost dropping the half of hair he was tying off.

“What?” she asked, clearly oblivious to what she had insinuated.

“Seika, I… don’t think Eiji is interested in anyone right now,” his mom offered, “even Midoriya.” She winked up at Eijirou, who was praying this conversation be over as soon as possible.

“Oh! Shoot,” his mama yelped, beginning to squirm as she realized her own words. Eijirou laughed a bit, thankful he hadn’t started the other half of her hair yet. “Was that-? No, honey. I didn’t mean… uhh…”

“I think!” His mom said, interrupting her wife’s jibber-jabber of words, “What your mama meant was that we’d love for you to find happiness… outside this house– whether that be with a partner or a friend or… something else. We just want to see our boy happy.”

Eijirou gave them both a small chuckle, his hands making their way to the other half of his mama’s hair in an attempt to calm her down a bit, “Thank you. But I’m okay! I’m happy here. With you guys!” 

There was a moment of silence between the three as Eijirou focused on his task, attempting to mask his feelings with a light smile. His hands moved carefully through his mama’s hair as he heard the soft clang and thud of bowls, and forks, and mugs.

“Besides,” he laughed, voice a bit too loud as he tied off the end of the final braid, “it’s not like I have any chance of finding what you two have.”

It sounded harsh, but it was true. Eijirou never expected to find a love like his moms had. He had seen how they cared for each other. How they’re so careful with each other and how they love each other so intentionally, and… well-

Eijirou tried. He really did. He tried to find a love like that. And it didn’t go well. So, he thought it better to just keep to himself. Avoid the heartbreak. Avoid the disappointment. Maybe he just wasn’t meant to have an epic love story. Maybe all he was meant for was this little life with his moms. And he could be happy with that. He was happy with that. 

“Oh, sweetie,” his mama stood and turned to face Eijirou, grabbing his hands and staring at him with the most hopeful smile plastered on her face. “We know you’ll find someone like we did! Someone who will sweep you off your feet! Someone who will see every single little thing that’s amazing about you and love you for it all.” 

Eijirou averted his gaze, breaking eye contact with his mama, attempting to hide his dejected spirit with a half-assed grin.

“Hey,” His mama’s hand left her son’s grip, softly lifting Eijirou’s chin so he was looking into the deep oceans of her eyes. “Even if you can’t see it in yourself yet, someone will.”

Eijirou willed himself to hold her gaze. He tried smiling– a real, genuine smile– but he knew it wasn’t quite there. He couldn’t quite mask the lie he was parading around– not to his mother.

Lucky for him, she didn’t call him out on it. She just patiently waited for him to respond in his own time. “Okay, mama,” he sighed. 

BZZZZZZZ

The sound of the doorbell was sudden and abrupt, freezing the trio in an air of confusion, looking at each other as if silently asking if anyone was expecting a guest at 7:30 in the morning. Because seriously, who was coming around the house at 7:30 in the damn morning? 

“I’ll- uh… I’ll get it,” Eijirou finally said, brushing out of his mama’s grip and heading to the door– leaving his moms together to speculate on their visitor.

As Eijirou shuffled down the hallway– brow furrowed and expecting nothing more than a salesman who clearly didn’t see the No Soliciting sign by their door– he felt a familiar voice creeping up into his ear. 

Him…

He swung the door open, far more aggressively than he had intended. His gaze immediately fell on the man in front of him. A shorter, spiky haired blonde who looked at him as if Eijirou was the one that rang his doorbell. Surprise mixed with a bitter scowl. Eijirou was almost offended just by his expression alone. 

His ruby eyes locked onto Eijirou’s, and he felt something recognizable fill his chest. It pinned him in place, calling to him like a siren on the rock, but something else wouldn’t let Eijirou move– the walls of his house chaining him to safety.

Silence fell between them. Something Eijirou couldn’t quite place, and couldn’t control, no matter how much he wanted to. Some kind of sorcery leaving him unable to break from his binds. 

“Um ...hi.” The guy said, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck and gaze averted to the flower beds by the front porch. Something shifted in his posture, and Eijirou felt his brain jumpstart back into gear. He was able to get a proper look at the man, and it didn’t take long for Eijirou’s brain to finally snap the pieces together.

It was the guy from last night. 

The drunk who Midoriya had to escort off the property. Eijirou suddenly grew a bit defensive, altering his stance ever-so-slightly to make himself a tad bigger, a tad more intimidating. It was a subtle change, but he found it was effective when he needed people to back off. 

“Hi.” Eijirou said coldly.

The man closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, hands stiff and clenched at the hem of the tight white T-shirt that seemed a size too small. “Okay… um… listen,” He stammered out in a hushed whisper, “I know that you don’t know who I am… And I know last night was probably really really creepy to you, and I’m sorry about… all that.” 

His hands motioned, gesturing to the air in front of him. His gaze flicked from the ground to Eijirou, and he saw a sense of desperation flicker in his sunset eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek before letting out a soft groan, his hand wiping his bangs away from his forehead in frustration.

“Fuck…” he whispered, and for a moment, words seemed lost on him– evading his tongue before properly forming. “Can- Can we grab a coffee and I can… try to explain this fucked up situation?”

Eijirou leaned himself against the door, letting his guard down a bit as his gaze lingered over the man. He certainly looked better than yesterday. His face and eyes were no longer flushed red from the alcohol, and he was wearing actual clothes now– granted, they looked a bit small– but anything was better than pajamas he supposed.

Images of him from last night flashed through Eijirou’s mind. Images of a broken and disheveled man. Someone who had lost something, someone? Thanks to his job, Eijirou was no stranger to grief and pain. He knew the look of someone lost, and this man had certainly been… lost last night. 

Eijirou should just call the authorities. He should take this guy to the hospital, maybe get him a mental evaluation. He should help him without indulging whatever fantasy he thinks he’s living in. 

But curiosity crept in through the backdoor of his brain. Questions about the guy, about last night, about his life all seemed to overshadow his common sense, and he couldn’t help himself. 

“How do you know Izuku Midoriya?” Eijirou asked, but was met with silence. Something avoidant. Something unspoken, but heavy, as if the guy didn’t know the answer either. “He came to get you last night… after everything,” He clarified.

“He’s…” The man broke their eye contact, searching for the correct words, “I guess you could say he’s an old friend.”

“And that’s why he came to get you last night?” Eijirou pressed.

“Yeah… I was uh-” the guy winced, maybe recalling the taste of liquor or the soreness of muscles. Eijirou certainly understood that feeling. Regret. “I wasn’t in a great place.”

Eijirou’s eyes were no longer on the man, but floating on air– his thoughts rattling around in his head. Something about him made Eijirou curious. Something lured him in. He wasn’t one to take chances, but the glint in his eyes and despair in his scowl stabbed at something akin to guilt. 

Eijirou watched the blonde awkwardly shuffling in place, head down cast with eyes flicking up between Eijirou and his shoes– breaths deep and low. Eijirou saw the way his neck and jaw tightened in uncertainty. In the bright light of morning, Eijirou made note of the scar lining the man’s cheekbones. The faded wound darkened that line of skin, and Eijirou’s eyes followed it down his neck and into his right arm. 

Eijirou was used to seeing deep wounds on people. Hell, he’s seen scars much worse than this, but something about it called out to him, begging and pleading to be tended to. Cared for.

“Okay…” Eijirou said turning around into the house, “let me grab my phone real quick.”

He popped inside to grab his phone and wallet– not without emptying the wallet with only his necessities. He quickly yelled to his mom’s that he’d be out for a bit, and joined the blonde outside to start… whatever the guy was looking to start. And Eijirou hoped and prayed he wouldn’t regret it.

Chapter Text

For a while, the two walked in silence, only hearing quiet shuffling and cars driving by every so often. Eijirou didn’t mind all that much. Sure, he didn’t love the silence– it let his mind wander a bit too much– but he also didn’t really have anything to say to this guy, so he just let it run its course as he made a mental to-do list of shit he needed to get done later.

The blonde guy was leading Eijirou somewhere, stride long and purposeful, a clear end goal in mind that Eijirou wasn’t privy to. They walked shoulder to shoulder, and every now and then, Eijirou could feel the gaze of eyes landing on him, but whenever he’d check for what his walking buddy might want, his eyes were focused on the road in front of them. 

He hoped he wasn’t imagining things, or else Eijirou probably seemed way too creepy with all the side glances he was shooting the guy's way.

“I have a question,” the prickly blonde said after a while, disrupting the silence and shocking Eijirou enough to have him fumbling over his feet.

“Okay. What’s up?” Eijirou said after steadying himself.

The guy bit his cheek a bit, a small curve of his lips peaking through his scowl as he met Eijirou’s gaze. He cleared his throat and brought his focus down again, expression slightly hidden by his falling bangs, “You seemed pretty… excited seeing Deku yesterday…”

Eijirou raised an eyebrow.

“Er- uh- Izuku. Midoriya. And then you asked me about him again today… I guess I was just wondering what your deal with him was? You a fanboy or something?”

Eijirou smiled, huffing out a small laugh, “I guess fanboy’s probably the best word for it. He saved me and my moms like forever ago.” Eijirou’s smile faltered a bit at the memory, “We were in this building that was falling apart, and I thought I could help, but… I just made it worse. Midoriya rescued us. A few other heroes helped, but… he’s the one we remembered.”

Memories from that day blurred his mind. How fast a nice family outing shifted into a full scale evacuation. Floods of people running and pushing just to get to ground level as they all watched the pillars around them crack. He remembers standing with his mama, hardening his skin to protect her from a falling beam, only to be shoved out of the way by his mom, and still getting hurt from the impact. 

He remembers crying and screaming and fear racing through his body, the fleeting thoughts of never seeing his mom again haunting him as they desperately tried pushing the metal chunk off her unmoving body. 

And just as he was about to fall beside himself and cry, he felt the weight under his fingers lift effortlessly. A green haired boy, who couldn’t possibly be much older than him, moving the hunk of metal by himself. Eijirou noticed the gauntlets he wore– strength support items he later learned– glowing as he threw the piece to a safe spot, allowing his mom to breathe again.

“Because of me, my mom lost her leg,” Eijirou continued, the memory washing away like cold water, “but because of Midoriya, she didn’t lose her life.”

Eijirou didn’t like thinking about that day, but he couldn’t shove it aside either, not when that day had forged so much of his path. Been so vital to where he was today. He started looking into his nursing career to get better care for his mom. He started working out to strengthen himself and his quirk, have some form of self-defense just in case another worse case scenario fell onto their life. He got to meet someone involved with support for Heroes, which he didn’t even realize was a thing until that day. He was grateful for those things.

But, of course, his mom had lost her leg. It was a completely debilitating injury, and Eijirou felt bad thinking there was anything about that day to be grateful for, maybe other than the fact his mom was still breathing. So he just… tried to not think about that day.

“Wow…”

Eijirou heard the soft whisper, and suddenly he remembered the blonde was beside him, listening as he rambled on about his own failings. “Shit, sorry,” Eijirou gave a half smile, “I know I can be a downer sometimes.”

“I didn’t say that,” the guy quickly replied.

“Right…” Eijirou grimaced. For a moment, he saw out of his peripheral the blonde’s face pause, his sight piercing into him like daggers, but he quickly decided against whatever it was he wanted to interject, instead relying back on the silence between them. 

Eijirou’s head fell, lips tight and eyes distracting themselves by tracing the laces of his shoes. His gaze shot to the blonde’s steps, royal blue shoes, with golden yellow laces. He was pretty sure they were All Might shoes, but he didn’t wanna ask. Old school though. Eijirou could respect the blonde’s style- 

Wait. The blonde? 

Realization hit him like a truck, and his head snapped up at the guy again. “So… um,” He started, but unsure on how exactly to bring the topic up, “I don’t know you, remember?”

The guy slowed his steps, his hands were buried in his pockets and his shoulders stiff and tense. He quirked an eyebrow up at Eijirou, not quite sure what he was getting at.

“I don’t know your name man,” Eijirou huffed, a bit of frustration laced his voice– some that he’d usually try to hide– but he felt he was warranted a bit more of an explanation than he had received so far.

“Oh, fuck,” the guy whispered to himself, posture growing even more tense. He stopped and fully turned to face Eijirou, who mirrored his actions. What the hell was going on in this guy's head, he wondered. Eijirou could see him biting a corner of his lip, a bead of sweat gliding down his forehead as the cogs in his brain turned and turned and turned. His gaze shifted from one speck of dust to another, but with a full gulp of air, he brought his eyes up to make contact, almost scaring Eijirou with his intensity. “Hi. I’m Katsuki Bakugou.”

Eijirou was silent for a moment, letting this guy– Bakugou– hang onto his own words. “Dude, relax,” He said, unsuccessfully stifling a chuckle. The seriousness that Bakugou was holding playing into Eijirou’s fucked up sense of humor. “I’m not gonna bite your head off. I wouldn’t have come with you if I was that mad about last night.”

Something in Bakugou relaxed a bit. His posture was still slouched, but Eijirou could practically see the tension magically float out of his shoulders. He turned back to the direction they were walking, a small smile leaving hints across his lips. “Right…” He replied as he darted away from the dark haired man, faster than Eijirou had expected, leaving him running to catch up.

One glance at the pale blonde, and he could see a soft pink color brushing his cheeks and ears. His shoulders may have relaxed, but there was still plenty of tension straining through his neck. As if taking pity on the guy, Eijirou nudged him a bit, making his straight walk take a sudden unbalanced curve. “Eijirou Kirishima. Just in case you were wondering,” Eijirou smirked.

Bakugou looked at him, his faster pace suddenly slowing and Eijirou dutifully matching that speed. He stared at Eijirou with a soft curve of his lips– the flames in his eyes speaking a language that he couldn’t understand. Eijirou’s smirk quickly fell, replaced with light confusion as he scanned the area as if he was missing something– as if Bakugou’s hopeful, downright fond expression was meant for someone other than him. Because why would he be looking at him like that? Like Eijirou had all the answers to life’s problems? It had to be something else, right?

Eijirou’s movement seemed to snap Bakugou out of something. He moved, keeping his eyes glued forward. The rest of the walk was uneventful. Well, the whole walk was fairly uneventful in Eijirou’s opinion, but the pair simply stayed silent after that last interaction. 

If Eijirou were being honest, he wasn’t paying much attention to where they were headed– pretty dangerous in hindsight– but as they trekked over the last hill, Eijirou spotted the familiar green grass and vibrant flowers of his favorite park.

His face sparkled at the sight of the pristine area as they meandered over. The morning mist was still wafting throughout the air, leaving the surrounding trees glistening with water droplets. Somehow, the cloudy skies that often layered themselves over Japan seemed to part, creating a spotlight with the sun that glowed directly onto the park. The light bounced off the greenery, creating a heavenly glow over everything. The whites of the flowers shining and mixing with the vibrant reds and oranges of the Japanese maple trees that circled the park, giving everything a splash of fall even on hot, summer-like mornings.

Curved on the outside of the field, closest to the road, was a winding sidewalk, wide enough to fit a family of 3 or 4. In the space between the sidewalk and the street sat a few food trucks, all locked up, closed for the early hour, not ready for customers. Except for one, which Eijirou was happy to pay the cart a visit.

The sign above the truck simply read coffee in dainty kanji, large enough to see from the other side of the park. There was a small sign folded out in front of it. The kanji for open written clearly at the top in that same delicate font with the hours of operation further below. The truck had a small opening in the middle where the register and barista stood– a small menu to one side of the window with a “deals of the day” chalkboard to the other. 

It wasn’t much, but the barista’s were always so cheerful, and they knew Eijirou well from his morning visits before work. Eijirou had spent many mornings at this truck once he started working the day shifts at the hospital. 

It was a somewhat recent development since he didn’t have much need for morning coffee when his work schedule often wouldn’t allow him home until 7 am, but once he had worked long enough to shift to the day schedule, he happily visited for that morning boost every once in a while.

“Kirishima! Hello dear!” The register worker– Hakui, he recalled– greeted them, “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Bakugou,” Eijirou grinned at her, gesturing to his– well, he wouldn’t call him his friend, but maybe acquaintance?

She gave Bakugou a warm smile, one much friendlier than the early hours of the morning would allow most people. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Bakugou,” There was a space of silence left. Hakui allowing Bakugou to return the greeting, say anything.

Eijirou turned to Bakugou who was just staring at her, looking at her with pinched eyebrows and sharp eyes. Eijirou let out a small cough, hoping the guy would get the hint that she was waiting for him to respond. The sound seemed to catch his attention as he looked to Eijirou like a child who had done something wrong. Eijirou’s eyes motioned to the barista, and Bakugou’s shoulders immediately tensed up, a nervous frown tracing his face, as he flicked his attention between the two. 

He finally acknowledged the woman, giving her the tiniest wave before placing his hand back in his pocket. 

This guy isn’t all that great with people, huh? Eijirou thought, his mouth spreading across his face into a tight line as he watched the nerves radiating off Bakugou’s closed off body.

“So, what can I get for you two?” She asked after letting a nervous laugh slip from her lips, and Eijirou couldn’t really blame her for the sudden tension in the air.

Before he could give her his order he heard the rough voice next to him speak up, louder and bolder than he had heard it all morning. “A medium iced chai latte with oat milk and a black coffee… please,” He tacked on the last word as if forgetting he needed to be polite. 

Eijirou looked at Bakugou stunned, mouth agape as he mindlessly paid for the drinks. Once Hakui dipped into the shadows of the truck to make their drinks, Bakugou finally looked back, noticing Eijirou’s shocked expression. 

“Oh fuck!” Bakugou hissed, a hand coming up rubbing his face. “Did- Did you want something else?”

Eijirou’s voice had a hard time making noise for a moment– sound stopping before it even got the chance to travel out of his throat.

“Here’s that black coffee. Latte will be out soon,” Hakui said disrupting Eijirou’s train of thought as she placed the coffee on the small ledge by Bakugou, allowing him to snatch it up. 

He inhaled the bitter smell, the scent alone seeming to wake him up further as he took a small sip of the drink, testing it, before looking back at Eijirou expectantly, “I can buy you something else if you want.”

“N-no,” Eijirou stammered almost jumping towards the other man as he clarified. “That was what I wanted, it’s just… How’d yo-”

“Here’s that Latte,” Hakui interrupted once again, giving Eijirou an apologetic look as she noticed the way his mouth fell agape from having to pause mid-sentence. He gave her a half smile back, before she retreated to the darkness of the truck once again, attempting to give them just a hair of privacy.

Bakugou picked the drink up, handing it to Eijirou as he motioned his head somewhere across the field. Eijirou’s eyes followed the pathway he suggested, and he quickly spotted a small bench. As if knowing exactly what he was thinking, Bakugou started for the bench, stepping off the warm concrete into the wet grass. Eijirou followed, keeping a short distance behind him.

The pair sat on the bench, sounds of birds chirping and trees rustling surrounding them as they both sipped from their cups. Eijirou attempted to distract his mind by watching the few other park patrons– an old man walking his dog, a teenager taking a run, a woman on the phone– but it did little to ease the string of tension he felt between them.

Eijirou didn’t want to start this conversation. He didn’t even know what the conversation was really about. All he knew was this crazy guy came to his house drunk last night, rambling about knowing him or some shit, and now he was here. 

Why did Eijirou agree to this again? This was kind of crazy? He could’ve sent the guy off, maybe give him directions to the nearest hospital, but instead he decided to go with him and hear him out for some godforsaken reason and now he might be-

“Oi!,” Bakugou nudged Eijirou shoulder beside him, “I can hear you overthinking. I promise I’m not planning to murder you or some shit like that, I just wanna talk about something, and… well, it’s kind of a hard thing to explain.”

That caught Eijirou’s attention. He shifted on his side of the bench, allowing himself to get a better look at the blonde’s face.

Bakugou’s jaw was tense, and he was scowling at the air, focus distant and hazy. He kept breathing in, opening his mouth, but stopping the air before he actually said anything, then slumping back into the bench to reflect on his words. Rinse and repeat probably 3 or 4 times before he finally spoke actual words. Thank goodness Eijirou didn’t need to be anywhere this morning. 

“Listen,” He finally settled on, “I’m a pretty blunt person, so I’m just going to say it, even though I know it’s going to sound crazy and insane, but I really really need you to believe me, okay?” He looked at Eijirou with that last sentence, pleading and desperation mixing in the shades of red of his iris’s.

Eijirou narrowed his eyes, ever the skeptic. He searched Bakugou’s face as his arms stiffened a bit, resting closer to his sides, “I don’t think I can promise that until I know what it is you’re about to tell me.”

“Right,” Bakugou sighed, “Can you, like… I don’t know, try to keep an open mind at least?”

He looked him up and down, as if scanning for something malicious or devilish that was just waiting to surface. “I can try,” his gaze met Bakugou’s, “but I’m not making any definite promises yet.”

Bakugou grimaced, a mixture of disappointment and acceptance washing over his features. Eijirou noticed the way his eyes changed, each millisecond a new shade, a new point, a new intention crossing them and Eijirou just watched practically in slow motion. “Okay… Well, I’m not from here- And not like I’m not from this neighborhood, or Japan, or some shit like that. I’m not from… this universe, I think?” 

Immediately, Eijirou’s posture stiffened– his brows furrowed, and he felt the grip on his drink tighten, but he remained silent. To be fair, Bakugou did say he’d probably sound insane. Which he does, but maybe soon it’ll sound… Less insane? He hopes.

“There was this crazy villain with this scar and this annoying fucking voice,” Bakugou continued, voice low but poignant. He was looking down at his hands that were teetering between clenching and unclenching. “And she has this quirk that- Well I guess I don’t know what it does, but it's been absolutely fucking with my head and my emotions, so when I saw you last night… I sort of, broke. And I’m sorry about that.” Bakugou faced Eijirou for that last sentence, eyes pleading– lingering on him for a minute too long, before shifting his gaze back to his hands and letting out a sigh, “Yeah. So now I’m here in this… world or universe or something, and she said- she said the only way back is through true love's kiss. So…” 

Bakugou’s voice faded into nothing, and Eijirou could tell he had run out of words, leaving him almost stunned into silence.

Because how do you reply to that? That sucks? Good luck? You’ll get’em next time? And why the hell was he telling Eijirou all this? Shit, Eijirou wasn’t even sure if it was all real. He’s heard about crazy quirks, but was a reality hopping one possible? He just didn’t know what to say, but there Bakugou was, looking at him as if he had all the answers in the world, so he just said, “Damn man…That- uh, sounds tough.”

That was wrong. Eijirou knew that was wrong, but fuck, what else was he supposed to say?

“Eijirou.” He felt a light touch on the curve of his hand bringing his attention to the small flames in Bakugou’s eyes. He leaned further in, sharp eyes now wide and round. Pleading. Begging. Eijirou could hardly focus on his own thoughts, the desperate gaze pinning him down and stripping him of any barriers he attempted to put up. His face warmed and- 

Wait, did he just call him Eijirou? 

Bakugou took a deep breath, slow and steady and calming. His hand tightened over Eijirou’s, just a twitch of the muscle, but enough for him to notice. “ You’re my true love.”

Oh .

What?!?!

For a moment, Eijirou was stuck. Trapped under Bakugou’s gaze, his hand, his warmth. And it was easy and comfortable and… terrifying, because he didn’t know this man. He wasn’t supposed to feel a buzzing through his ears or the warmth of colors bleeding from the man’s grip. And yet he did. And he didn’t like it.

It was different. It was scary, and it almost made him believe it could be true.

Eijirou jumped up off the bench, partially because he wanted to create a bit of space between him and Bakugou, but also because he needed to walk this out of his body. The weird new sensation and warmth in his skin that he didn’t want to name endured, and he felt his face flush with an embarrassed heat, “What the hell are you talking about?” 

He gripped his hand, the lingering warmth from the blonde vibrating his bones, and suddenly Eijirou was far too aware of the heavy drum beats of his heart.

“I know, I know!” Bakugou stood, hands up in front of his body, pleading innocence. He didn’t step any closer to Eijirou, however, seeming to respect the distance he was trying to maintain, “It’s crazy! And I sound crazy, but… where I’m from, we’re married. We have kids. We have a life and careers, and we love each other.” 

Eijirou looked at him, clutching at his shirt with both hands as he felt his chest rise and fall. A flicker of the broken man he saw last night flashed through his head– something similar tracing through Bakugou. His look or stance or words. And part of him wanted to reach out. To take his hand and say “it's okay.” 

But that was crazy. Right?

As if hearing his thoughts, Bakugou took a cautious step towards him, approaching him like he was a wild deer who had been injured. Eijirou’s breath hitched at the movement and Bakugou stopped. “You don’t remember,” he whispered, “or… I guess, maybe you don’t know, but you have to believe me!”

Something traveled in the air between them, leaving the pair unable to speak. Unable to move. It lingered, taking its time, getting lost and detouring until it finally reached Eijirou, giving his breath life again and jumpstarting his brain. “Wow, you’re right. You sound insane!”

Eijirou turned to walk off and leave before he did something crazy too. But he barely got five steps out before a hand grabbed at his wrist, sending a similar spark of electricity through his arm. “Are you happy right now?” The blonde asked.

Eijirou’s breath caught in his throat and he choked out a high, “What?!”

“Are you happy? Like this?” Bakugou’s free hand gestured to the park, looking around at the trees and flowers that seemed duller than before, and Eijirou felt heat rush up through his body. 

“O- of course I am!” He stammered.

“I don’t think you are,” Bakugou jabbed back, and now Eijirou was fuming. 

Embarrassment and anger mixed together in the heat of his face. His breath quickened, and he could feel the traces of his hardening begin to tickle the outer layer of his skin. Because how dare this guy, who he had known for… what? An hour? Stomp into his life and insinuate Eijirou wasn’t happy. He was very happy. Happy that his moms were okay. Happy he had a roof and a job and good food. 

What was there to not be happy about?

Every aspect in Eijirou’s life was exactly what he always hoped and dreamed for, and how dare this guy mention the possibility that, maybe, that was just a lie to himself.

Eijirou took a few steps towards him, closing the distance just short of arm's length. Close enough to land a punch if he needed to, “Okay. You need to back off-”

“Actually, I know you aren’t happy. Because I know you,” Bakugou interrupted, voice stern and movements pointed, calculated. “Ei? When you're happy, your smile is supposed to light up a room,” Bakugou’s voice softened with the comment, nostalgia filling his breath, and something about it gave Eijirou pause. “Your laugh is supposed to be heard all the way from Tokyo.” The prickling sensation of Eijirou’s quirk subsided– eyes glued to the blonde, “Your eyes are supposed to shine brighter than the fucking sun.” 

Bakugou closed the distance once more, close enough for Eijirou to feel the warmth of his body mixing with his own. Eijirou didn’t step back. Perhaps because he was attempting to keep up his intimidating facade? Maybe his curiosity had been peaked by the man's words? Or maybe the warmth radiating off him brought Eijirou some surprising form of… comfort?

“I know you’re not happy because the world imitates you, and right now, it's dull and dark and grey and void of colors.”

Eijirou held his stare, brows furrowed and eyes locked. If he were being honest, he wasn’t sure what exactly he was feeling– it certainly wasn’t anger like before, but he wasn’t exactly happy about Bakugou’s words either. His touch still lingered loosely around his wrist and Eijirou… just wasn’t sure what to think.

He quirked an eyebrow up, stealing an obvious glance at the man’s lips, hoping he couldn’t see through the veil of disgust he was hiding behind, “And what? I’ll suddenly be happy if I kiss you?”

“Yes, Ei!” In a slow and cautious movement, Bakugou grabbed Eijirou’s hands, and Eijirou… he didn’t pull away. Long, bony fingers traced Eijirou’s. They were calloused and rough, scars lacing the palms, deepening and spreading up his right arm– but somehow the grip was tender, loose, comforting. Bakugou carried his hands like they were precious treasures that needed to be cherished. Eijirou’s face grew hot, and he clenched his jaw, watching the scene playing out at his fingertips. “Because you’re my true love, and I’m yours!” Ruby eyes met his own, pupils large, taking in every feature of Eijirou, “And I know I’m not doing a great job at convincing you, but… I’m so lost without you Ei, and I don’t know what else to-”

“You wanna kiss me so bad?” Eijirou interrupted, forcibly pulling his hands out of Bakugou’s soft grasp. His hands buzzed like magnets pulling closer and closer to their opposite field. Eijirou had enough of this game. His face was hot, and he… just wanted to know the truth.

“Yes!” Bakugou hurriedly replied

“Fine!”

Before the blonde could react, Eijirou’s hands were clasped around Bakugou’s neck, cradling his head– fitting perfectly like a puzzle piece finding its match– and pulling him into a desperate kiss. His hands clawed at the soft tufts of blonde hair, feeling the way it gradually faded down the back of his neck. Bakugou was quick to clutch at Eijirou’s waist, hands crumpling the loose tank top and pulling him in, so their bodies were chest to chest, breathing as one.

Eijirou wanted this. He craved it.

He saw fireworks. Colors flash through his head. He saw the crisp rise of sunrise and the cool breeze of sunset. He felt like he was floating, suspended in the air as he tasted the soft lips. The world stopped and turned in on itself at the same time, and Eijirou couldn’t seem to care, because he was there, kissing Bakugou. It was magical, exciting, and thrilling. It was everything he ever hoped for in a kiss. A kiss full of want and love and desire. A kiss that changed the fabric of reality directly under his feet. A kiss from his true love…

Except it wasn’t.

It wasn’t any of those things.

It was just a kiss.

Eijirou broke away, practically pushing the blonde off him. Their eyes roamed around, finding the same grassy field beneath them, the same bench a few meters away from them, and the same dull, cloudy skies above them– seeming to just grow darker with each passing minute, the sudden smell of rain wafting through the air. 

Nothing changed. 

Why would it?

Eijirou looked to Bakugou, who was standing there, dazed and confused, as if he had just woken from a dream. “Wow…” Eijirou whispered, bringing his hands to comb through his hair, “I really am an idiot, huh?” Stealing one more glance at Bakugou’s hazy state, he turned and stomped off, determined to leave this time.

“Fuck! No,” Bakugou yelled behind him, “It was supposed to work! Ei, please! I thought it would work!”

“Don’t call me that!” Eijirou whipped himself around, Bakugou almost crashing into him.  He was tired of this. Of feeling like a toy for someone to play with. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He was done, plain and simple. He jabbed a finger at Bakugou, hoping that’d lay down his words hard enough to get through the guy’s lust filled head. “I don’t know you! I don’t want to see you or talk to you or… shit! Just… leave me alone!” 

And with that, he turned and marched off. He thought he might’ve heard the faint whisper of Bakugou’s voice behind him, but he didn’t want to pay any more attention to him. He didn’t want to think about his cheap words. He didn’t want to be saved or swept off his feet or swoon at anything because all of it was just cheap, meaningless words.

Meaningless words that somehow made Eijirou feel like, maybe, he could be telling the truth. Maybe he could be loved like that. By someone who listened and watched and knew him better than he knew himself. Maybe he could have a life with laughter and smiles and children and kisses and cuddles and happiness, but no. 

He couldn’t have that.

They were meaningless words.

And Eijirou was an idiot for thinking someone like that could ever love someone like him. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to bleed with every step. His chest heaved and tightened, strangling his heart like some kind of play thing. His breathing was stuck in a cycle, never fully filling nor emptying, and Eijirou felt his lungs clench with every new gulp. Because he was an idiot, who fell for cheap words and tricks and gags. Like always. That’s just who he was.

Eijirou Kirishima. 

A stupid fucking idiot.

Chapter Text

“Maybe you misheard her,” Izuku said, pacing around the living room enough to have permanently etched his footprints in the floorboards. “Or maybe you misremembered what she said? Yeah! Maybe you just thought you heard kiss, but she really said… umm… miss? Or bliss? Or dismiss? Or-” The nerd was quickly shut up by a roll of paper towels beelining it for his face from behind the kitchen counter where Katsuki stood. 

Simmering with his ladle in hand, Katsuki gave Izuku a glare before returning to the task at hand. He was preparing rice and miso soup for the two to have for breakfast that morning because a) Izuku did not believe him when he said he can cook better than the nerd could breathe, and b) after the last few days he had had, he desperately needed to do something he wouldn’t fuck up in every single way possible. 

Small wins, as Eijirou might say.

Fuck, he missed Eijirou. 

He missed his voice and his laugh. He missed the way his eyebrows would wrinkle when he thought about something too hard. He missed the way he’d look at Katsuki.  He missed the goofy expressions he’d wear to get Katsuki to laugh. He missed the way he showed he loved him, all of him– in every form. He missed all the small, tiny, mundane little things he’d do that Katsuki had taken… for granted. God, he missed everything, and all of it. And, right now? He couldn’t have any of it.

Because he fucked that up too. 

How do you fuck up the one thing in your life that was good and special and perfect? By being Katsuki Bakugou. That’s how.

A few days had passed since… the incident with his husband, and Katsuki finally felt as if he could stand on his own two feet without crumbling to the floor in a heap of his own wails and sobs. 

It had all been hard. Just hard. 

He barely had the mental bandwidth to simply talk about all the events that had occurred that day, let alone try and process them. Izuku helped in the ways that he could– space, dinner, and maybe a cheesy action movie to ease Katsuki’s mind. 

Honestly, Katsuki was grateful. He was so grateful. Maybe more than he thought possible. Because this Izuku didn’t know him. Not the real him. Not the new him. Not the post apologies him. Not the Katsuki Bakugou that had mended fences and worked tirelessly to earn forgiveness for his past.

This Izuku didn’t know about the guilt and pride and ego that would eat away at Katsuki back in those middle school days. He didn’t know about the sleepless nights and the expectations and the way his stomach churned at just the thought of being looked down at. This Izuku had no reason to help him. 

And yet, here he was, treating Katsuki as a normal house guest. 

Even more, in fact. An old friend. 

Really, he was so grateful to his childhood friend. And yet that didn’t stop Katsuki from shutting his rambling up when they got too out of hand. 

“Shut up! I can’t think with your fucking muttering!” Katsuki hissed at Deku as he readjusted his focus and slowly picked the roll of paper back up, placing them on the counter without a second thought. He brought his attention back to the pot of water in front of him, gritting his teeth as he watched the bubbles start to float up to the top of the water line at an increasingly fast pace. 

Honestly, Katsuki wasn’t doing all that great today either, but at least he could make breakfast. He could do tasks. Tasks were good for him. And right now, his task was making breakfast. Making breakfast and trying to figure out how the fuck everything went to shit so fast.

“And no. I definitely didn’t mishear her… She probably just fucking lied,” Katsuki half muttered under the low boil of water.

Izuku stared at him, brows etched with confusion and concern, as if Katsuki had just spouted the most wildly outlandish theory rather than… the most logical one, “Why would she lie about that?”

“Other than the fact that I’m after her and her team in my world, and apparently I was getting pretty damn close to finding their hideout? Yeah, no reason to lie. Actually, villains are known to be very honest at heart,” Katsuki said, sarcasm and irritation seeping through his voice like poisonous honey as he began to add the miso to the mixture. 

“Okay. You don’t have to be a jerk about it,” Izuku responded, arms crossed and unamused with Katsuki’s attitude. 

A small ping of guilt stabbed at the blonde, and he muttered a quiet apology to Deku as he worked. 

He didn’t want it to be a lie. He wished with all his heart it was that easy. That he could just kiss the problem away, the same way he might kiss a small scrape on Akane’s knee after a tumble down the hill. Or how he might kiss Eiichi’s forehead after a bad dream. 

A gesture of comfort. 

Something to show his loved ones they weren’t alone. That someone would always be there to take care of them. Another thing Eijirou taught him that he wildly took for granted. 

He wished it was just that. A kiss from his person. A kiss from Eijirou. But… after going through the scene more than a hundred times in his head these last few days, he just… couldn’t think of anything else it could be. 

She had to have lied, right? There was no other solution. At least, not one Katsuki could think of. And yeah, as much as Katsuki hated to admit it, it does make sense. Because why would she give him the answer? Why would she make it that easy? It just didn’t line up.

Deku continued on with his train of thought, breaking Katsuki out of his whirlpool of ‘what if’s.’ “I just… It’s so specific.” He pursed his lips a bit, focusing on nothing besides maybe the air in front of his face, “Like, true love’s kiss? Who would just make that up? And it only took you a day to technically achieve that. Seems like a dumb wild goose chase, you know? I mean, she could’ve told you to find something random and obscure, or make peace between countries, or reunite the long-lost twins of so and so ancient legend from a thousand years back, but instead, she chose true love’s kiss? Find your husband, who’s a 10-minute walk away from the person you just so happen to be staying with, and kiss him? Doesn’t that sound sort of… odd to you?”

For a moment, Katsuki pondered the thought– allowing just a blossom of hope to flood his sore muscles before he flushed it all away again. 

Okay. Maybe he could admit that the whole thing didn’t quite line up as neatly as Katsuki had thought, but he also couldn’t shake the feeling that Scarface was fucking with him– playing with his heart until he simply couldn’t take the hurt any longer. Until he was ready to let this world take him under its nasty claws and trample him into a pile of dust and ash. “I guess,” he sighed, keeping his eyes glues to the soup and hoping the prickling sensation in his eyes was simply from lack of sleep. “But I don’t… know what else it could be…”

Silence held between the pair like a string bound to snap at any moment– movement had stilled and they both stood there, eyes locked to the floor, as if it held all the answers to their quandaries. 

A sigh was felt between them, breaking their frozen statures and allowing them to continue their tasks in the looming quiet– exhaustion already taking over their bodies, even in the morning air. 

Katsuki moved, allowing the water to softly simmer as he began cutting the tofu– each glide through the soft texture captivating him, allowing himself to get lost in the action and finding it hard to peel his eyes away from each sharp cut. 

Izuku, finding his own chore as Katsuki prepared breakfast, began cleaning up the living room a bit– moving parts of the makeshift bed they had made for Katsuki the last few nights into a more organized space. 

Since it was a weekend, and Izuku was off, he was set on cleaning up Katsuki’s space and finding a more… sustainable living arrangement as he continued trying to find his way back home. He mentioned maybe turning the at-home office space into an extra bedroom, but Katsuki hadn’t been exactly in an active listening mindset when he had talked about it. 

Katsuki hadn’t even realized how long they had simply been existing in silence– the slight shuffles of movement and the low hum from the vents as their only backing track– until they were sitting at the dining room table, eating the small, but delicious, breakfast Katsuki had managed to muster up. Izuku finally broke the quiet hum with the breathy whisper of his high voice.

“I know you don’t really want to go into much detail about all of it, but I was thinking about what you told me and… well, I mean… okay. I don’t know. This is just a guess. But…” Izuku sucked in a breath, as if mustering up some courage to comment, “is it really ‘true love’s kiss’ if he’s not in love with you yet?” Katsuki clenched his jaw as he glared down at his miso, Izuku clearly noticing as he hurriedly rambled out of the corner he back himself into, “Not like I’m insinuating he was never in love with you. I mean, you two were married in your world, so I’m assuming he was! It’s just hard to say you two actually experienced ‘true love’s kiss’ when you barely know these versions of each other, that’s all!”

As Izuku trailed off into a fit of words– half of which Katsuki didn’t even understand at this point– he turned his head towards his friend, directing a piercing stare at Deku, and subsequently cutting off all his ramblings. “I don’t care if it’s this universe, mine, or one where we’re fucking rocks. I’d love his dumbass in every one, and he’d love mine.” Katsuki’s gaze slid down to his hand. The missing placement of his wedding ring making his fingers chill. 

Of all the material things Katsuki was missing from his world, he wished, more than anything he could’ve kept his ring. The mere sight of his naked finger made him choke up a bit. And nearly every time he tortured himself by looking down at the spot, he had to swallow down a lump in his throat that just wanted to scream for Eijirou. 

“That is a fact,” he said, looking back up to Izuku with more conviction, “and that goes beyond whatever borders or parameters some little shit made. Because no matter what, we are made to love each other. And that’s something that will never change. So if that kiss didn’t work, it’s cause that fuck lied. Because there will always be some part of Eijirou that will love me the same way I love him.”

For a moment, Katsuki just sat there looking at his ring finger, noticing the slight tan line from its absence and mourning the small warmth it provided to his hand. 

Sounds of muffled sniffling broke his thoughts and he shifted his eyes to the man sitting next to him. Deku was sitting there, hands covering his mouth as tears and snot streamed out and soiled his hands. 

“The fuck you crying for?” Katsuki snarled, scooting back in his chair a bit to avoid the water works.

Izuku sniffled a bit, wiping his eyes with his sleeves before replying, “I’m sorry Kacchan. I’m just… it’s nice to see a version of you so happy with someone. You know?” Katsuki bit his lip and felt a swell in his chest as Izuku wiped away the last of his tears, quietly chuckling before relaxing with a deep sigh. “But… Kacchan, I don’t know if that’s how this works. This Kirishima is different from yours. They’ve had a completely different life. I mean… he never even became a hero. That seems like a big deal.”

For a moment, Katsuki stayed silent– folding his arms and pouting down at the remains of food in his bowls. 

‘Cause damn. 

The nerd had a point. He didn’t know this world. He didn’t know this Eijirou. He thought he might. And maybe he could. But that day. That kiss? He didn’t. 

Eijirou wasn’t in love with him. Not here. Not now. “... fuck,” Katsuki breathed out, leaning on the table, his head in hands as he steadied his quivering breaths. “What… What do I do then?”

“I mean,” Izuku started, giving Katsuki a tight-lipped smile, “He fell in love with you once. Who’s to say he wouldn’t again?”

That familiar taste lingered in Katsuki’s throat. The hope of seeing his husband. Of loving his husband. Of Eijirou loving him back. But at the same time, he felt the fear. The fear that maybe it wouldn’t work. That maybe he was setting himself up for heart break. That maybe, at the end of the day, it was more harm than it was worth. 

And maybe. Maybe he was too weak to go through that heartbreak. 

“I just… I think I need to try to find another way. Maybe she has a version in this universe or something that I can beat to a pulp.” Katsuki said clenching his fists, “I almost found her in my world, maybe I can find her again.”

Izuku let out a long sigh as tension radiated off of Katsuki’s body. The green haired boy slowly stood up, careful about any extraneous sounds he might make, and headed down the hall of the apartment and disappearing from Katsuki’s narrow view.

He quickly returned, sitting back down with a small piece of paper in hand. “Here,” He said, handing the scrap to Katsuki. The blonde examined the paper carefully noting the few phone numbers scribbled across. “I have a few direct contacts of heroes in the area. If you want to try to find her on your own, they might be a good starting point.” Deku paused for a moment, grimacing and biting the inside of his cheek, “But… I really don’t think you should give up on him, Kacchan.”

Katsuki felt the slight sting of tears trying to escape his eyes as he gritted his teeth and glared at the paper. “I’m not giving up on him. It just feels… wrong to use him like that. To try and… play with him like that. I just don’t think I can do that.”

Izuku leaned forward, arms now resting crossed on the table as he gave an elongated sigh, “I get it. I really do! But… is it possible that this… or you might actually be saving him?”

Katsuki looked at Izuku, biting down his jaw and tightening his lips at the question. He felt the weight of his breaths falling on his chest and the way his stomach churned thinking about this version of Eijirou. This sad, lonely, depressed version of him, who seemed to have lived and learned and lost so much with so few around him to lean on. So few who knew how bright and beautiful and special his heart was. And how fragile it could break.

Katsuki thought about the face Eijirou made after they kissed. How he saw the hope and light and fire just die in his eyes before turning to that oh so familiar face of self-doubt. 

He thought about those painful nights back in his world– holding his husband as he shivered and cried. Whispering to him. Comforting him. Reminding him of his worth and his value and his drive. 

He remembered the ways Eijirou would talk about himself in middle school– who he was. Who he wanted to be. And even how that bled into so much of his life at UA and beyond. He remembered how low Eijirou told him he went. How there were sleepless nights and foggy days. How he felt he was simply going through the motions, moving through days on autopilot. 

There’d be surges of drive– glimpses of who he was now, but they were so easily beaten out of him with just a slight comment or flick of the wrist. It was hard to listen to, and right now, it’s hard to imagine that that’s who he became. That that was such a constant in his life. Without friends like Mina or Kaminari or Sero… or Katsuki. 

“I can’t… trick him into falling in love with me. I just can’t do that to him…” Katsuki gaze narrowed on the small slip in his hand, grip tightening around it and added more creases along the pen strokes. “But I can be his friend again. I can be there for him. Or at least, check to see if he has people who can do that for him.” He glanced down at his ring finger once more, that familiar stabbing morphing into determination. Into action, “‘Cause I can’t leave him in this world knowing he’s miserable. I just can’t.”

The blonde looked back at Deku, who gave him an open, warm smile. A proud smile. And part of Katsuki felt that warmth beam into his own chest. Just a bit. But it was there. 

The very same warmth he’d felt from his Izuku, back in his reality. The same warmth he’d felt the day he told the nerd that him and Eijirou were dating. The same from the day he asked Izuku to be his best man. And the same from the day he handed his newly born daughter to him, gently holding her head as Deku adjusted his grip ever so carefully.

It gave him an odd sense of comfort, and after the week Katsuki had had, he needed that comfort. It caused something to bloom in Katsuki’s chest. 

Determination. 

His expression grew focused as he grabbed Izuku’s wrist and dragged him out of the dining area. “But I need your help with something first,” Katsuki said, barely allowing the man enough time to slip shoes on– before they were out the door and racing down those same streets from earlier that week.

“Kacchan!” Izuku berated as Katsuki finally slowed, recognizing the same concrete pillars from the last time he was here. The memories of the house made his heart pound against his chest as he stared at it from the safety of the sidewalk– just outside the property line. Katsuki had practically carried Izuku through the busy streets, the walk itself easy enough, but far more rough and forceful with all the extras milling through the neighborhoods with very little urgency to wherever they were headed. 

Lunch rush, he supposed. Or the fact it was a nice Saturday morning. Either way, Katsuki was a tad annoyed to have had to push through so many people just to get to the next neighborhood.

“Geez, would it have killed you to be just a bit more gentle?”  Izuku pouted, pulling his arm away from Katsuki’s grip and massaging the section Katsuki had been latched onto. His eyes targeted on the house before turning back to the blonde, “Why did you drag me here?”

“He doesn’t want to see me,” Katsuki said, eyes locked to the house– a glint of disappointment crossing his face. “If I’m going to do this, I need you to convince him to give me one more chance.”

Red eyes quickly jumped to Izuku, reaching to shove the man towards the house, but he instead dodged the rough movement– practically leaping out of Katsuki’s reach. Guess he was catching on a bit more than Katsuki had realized. 

“Woah, woah! Why do I have to convince him?” Izuku said, breath caught a bit in his throat.

“He looks up to you!”

“He’s your husband!”

“ He doesn’t know that! You fucking said it yourself!”

“Yeah, but-” Izuku’s eyes darted around the area, trying to find anything to latch on to, “I don’t even know what I would say! ‘hey, sorry my friend was a weirdo, can you please give him another chance?’” 

“No dumbass! But you can go pay them a visit and maybe mention that your friend, ” Katsuki elongated the word, gesturing to himself, “Is very sorry for making them uncomfortable!”

“Don’t you think it’d make more sense coming from you?”

“Dammit Deku! They fucking like you, you idi-”

“Bakugou?” Katsuki’s words were immediately stopped by the interruption of a harsh and raspy sound of his name coming from behind him– one he knew all too well. He turned to find the elusive red eyes he had dreamed about practically every night staring back at him. Something magical sparkling in them. “What are you doing here?” Eijirou asked, concern laced in the space between his brows. 

Katsuki swallowed down the lump in his throat as he took in the man. Eijirou’s long dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, strands falling and curling around his face. His forehead was glistening with a light layer of sweat that dampened the roots of his hair. He was wearing an incredibly loose tank top– one with armholes that reached all the way down to his waist– and some light gym shorts. 

Katsuki saw so much of his Eijirou in the image in front of him. There was so much relaxation and comfort held in his posture and Katsuki just wanted to leap into his arms and kiss him until his lips turned numb.

He didn’t seem angry. Not at all, actually. He seemed guarded. An invisible fence built around him that seemed almost fragile to the touch. And yet, it still made Katsuki’s heart hurt for the man.

He looked tired. Dark circles lined his eyes, heavy and prominent. Was he not sleeping? Was it because of Katsuki, or maybe something happened at work, or with his moms? Defeat seemed to practically vibrate off his body, and Katsuki’s heart broke just looking at him. 

He silently prayed Eijirou wasn’t in this state because of him.

“I- I… um… We… I,” Katsuki stammered out, remembering the question the taller man had posed but fishing no words from his brain.

“He told me how big of fans your moms were,” Deku interrupted, slightly shifting Katsuki to the side to make room for himself on the sidewalk. “I practically had to beg him to drag me out here to meet you guys again. I’m so honored to be remembered by such a wonderful family”

Katsuki’s eyes widened as he caught on to what Deku was doing, looking from Eijirou to Izuku then back to Eijirou. His eyes immediately locked with the red irises he was so familiar with, and it felt as if space and time froze in a breathless gasp. Eijirou’s gaze was soft and light. The complete opposite of what it had been the last time they saw each other– pain and hurt being replaced with curiosity and interest. 

Eijirou took a long breath in, seeming to scan Katsuki up and down as he did so, and let out a small puff of air before turning to Deku with a nice and cheery, “We’d love to have you. I can show you in.”

“Thank you,” Izuku said as he and Katsuki watched Eijirou make his way around them and take the lead up to the front of his house. 

Katsuki simply stood and watched, knowing he likely would not be welcomed in the walls anyway– understanding that his “role” in their little story Deku had concocted had been fulfilled. All he could do now was wait and hope that Deku could make a good enough impression on the family to grant him some kind of grace for his terrible first impression with his… With Eijirou.

Katsuki turned away from the house, ready to find a nearby bench or ledge he could rest on while he waited for Izuku to work his magic. Maybe there were some new restaurants around the area that didn’t exist in his universe. Or perhaps there were other restaurants that did still remain. Besides, the coffee stand was still there. Who was to say his favorite bakery wasn’t still there.

Perhaps he could check.

Use the time to take a look. Find some comfort in that. 

He started his walk down the street, pulling out the old, broken phone that Deku had loaned him for the time being, until he was stopped by the deep and almost comforting yell coming from the house.

“Bakugou!” Eijirou called out. Katsuki quickly turned to find the dark haired man striding over to him, Deku already nestled in the house enough for the blonde to no longer see. Katsuki stayed quiet, biting his lips as Eijirou stood in front of him, rubbing the back of his neck and focusing solidly on something on the ground between them. “I… um… I just-” He gave a small, but frustrated sigh, “Can you come in too? I… think we should talk.”

Katsuki slowly nodded, allowing Eijirou to lead him in, similarly as he did for Deku. As they walked, Katsuki felt the pounding of his heart against his chest, and he hoped the line of sweat dampening his forehead was only noticeable to him. 

They entered the house– a bit of hope and a bit of fear flooding Katsuki’s heart as he closed the door behind him.

Chapter Text

Eijirou thought that that first night would be the worst of it. How could it not be? Red eyes glowing, staring at his own. Taunting him. Almost tempting him. They acted as a gravitational pull, magnetizing him closer and closer toward the blonde as if he were the only person that mattered. As if they were the only people that existed in this whole world. As if the rest of the world was simply a blur– the sounds and lights of the busy streets around him becoming a backdrop. A painting of washed out pastels that buzzed and flowed around him, like they were the set to a storybook play.

One that featured them. And only them.

As if they were always meant to meet. Always meant to be together. Always meant to be each other’s glow in a world so dreary and dark. The only people in such a busy and bustling world. Frozen in each other’s gazes. Stilled by each other’s presence. Tied together by an invisible string that clipped shorter and shorter with every second. 

That was until Eijirou woke up, panting and gasping…

Sweat drenched his body, and he ached for a shower. Not only to release the sore muscles from the day before, but to also clear his racing thoughts. 

Because shit! Why’d he dream about Bakugou? He didn’t like the guy. Thought he was crazy. Insane. Some lunatic who thought it funny to play with his heart like it was nothing. 

So a shower it was. 

And that would be the end of it. 

But that was not the end of it. Far from it. That first dream was simply just an appetizer to the buffet of dreams that would soon plague Eijirou’s nights– each bringing Bakugou to the forefront of his mind. All far worse. Far more intense. Each leaving Eijirou with a hunger in his chest as he woke. One that he’d often wash away with a long, cold shower. 

That first night he had simply seen the man. Caught a glimpse. Nothing more than that, beyond the utter ache he felt grip his chest. The choking desire to draw so close to Bakugou. To feel that same heat that radiated off of him like a furnace, so warm and comforting. 

But that was it. 

The next night, though? Oh, the next night he found himself touching him. Feeling him. Fingers brushed over rough scars that– yes, were rough and rigid and dry– but under Eijirou’s touch? They were brimming with life and hope. And Eijirou couldn’t help the longing, the yearning, for something more. To have more. To touch more. To take more.

So he did.

His brushing hand grazed up to Bakugou’s shoulder. Then his neck. Then his jaw, tracing the sharp line until it nestled into his hair. His soft blonde hair. Like his hand was gripping at a cloud. Almost unreal in nature. Almost ethereal.

Eijirou’s other hand found Bakugou’s lips immediately– as if it were second nature to touch them. To rub his thumb against them so slowly. So tenderly. Second nature to lift the blonde's chin ever so slightly, just enough for his low scowl to meet Eijirou’s hungry eyes. 

And fuck, he was close. So close. 

Barely a breath away before Eijirou woke up once more– cursing at the air and screaming into the fullness of his pillow before racing to the shower.

And the dreams continued like that. 

Eijirou exploring Bakugou, as if he were some treasure that Eijirou couldn’t take his hands off of. As if he already knew every touch, every look, every scent of Bakugou, and he just wanted to revel in it. 

Or at least dream Eijirou wanted to revel in it.

Real Eijirou wanted to jump in a hole! 

‘Cause this was not okay! Yes. Bakugou was a jerk, but that didn’t mean Eijirou could- could ogle him like this in his dreams! It wasn’t right! It was, like, the most unmanly thing he could be doing right now!

And Eijirou’s frustrations simply grew with each night that passed. Each night of sighing and aching, and lingering touches that were more like lasting ones. Each night breathing in a scent he’s never smelled before, and making him… well, curious? 

And annoyed!

Mostly annoyed. 

And the dreams didn’t seem to leave his mind once he was in the waking world. Because why had Eijirou found himself daydreaming during work? Getting distracted? Spacing out? Not listening?

Over what?

That repeated scene in his head. That day. That kiss. It just played over and over in his head like a video stuck on a loop. Like Eijirou was some school girl giggling about her first kiss. Except it wasn’t his first, and he should– in no way– be giggling about it.

It was becoming a problem. A hindrance to his job. His life. And especially his sleep.

But, of course, the last night had been the worst of the batch. Because the universe hated Eijirou. 

There he sat in the sleepless void– colors painted around him like water spreading and mixing on a page– knees on either side of Bakugou’s hips in the soft seating they were perched on. 

They were close. Practically sharing oxygen as they huffed low, shallow breaths. 

Eijirou’s eyes locked onto Bakugou’s. His gaze was soft, like pools that could rock him to sleep. As if it were the first time he had ever felt like this. Felt the touch of another man. Felt the weight of someone’s hips on his own. Felt the growing thirst to simply lean in and change the world around them.

And honestly, Eijirou was right there with him. It all felt new again. Like he was some kid in high school again kissing a boy for the first time. So nervous that he would get it wrong, but so eager to know that what he was feeling was right– a bubbling in the pit of his stomach rollercoastering between epic heights and nerve wracking lows.

Eijirou’s arms hung loosely around the blonde’s neck, and he felt the rise and fall of his chest as he dipped his head low, closer and closer to contact. Each inch forward seemed like an eternity, like a lifetime had passed in the mere milliseconds it took to close that gap. Before he finally, finally, felt the soft touch of lips on his own.

He inhaled into the kiss, swallowing everything Bakugou was willing to give. Craving it with every inch of his body. Finding new points of contact at every angle. Tracing the dimples in his back as Bakugou leaned further into the soft cushion of the couch– giving Eijirou the perfect angle to take. To feel. 

He gripped the carved muscles tight, feeling as if they were sculpted for his hands only. His fingers grazed down the invisible line of his chest ever so gently, feeling it expand with every gasp Eijirou managed to pull from the harsher man’s mouth– silencing each sound with a kiss.

It felt so real. It felt so correct, in every way possible. It felt like he had found something he never realized he lost. It felt like he couldn’t possibly breathe because breathing meant stopping, and his heart practically screamed at the mere thought of breaking contact from this man. Even for a second. 

Even to breathe.

Even to live.

And then he woke up.

Jolting awake, not unlike he had every night since meeting the man, he felt the weight of the room ground him as he calmed his racing heart. The sunlight streaming into his window was so bright, so much fuller than what he was used to. It warmed the entire room to a heat Eijirou hadn’t been accustomed to waking up in. He heard the small sounds of people outside, milling about and enjoying the nice day. 

Eijirou reached for his phone. 

10:00 am. 

He overslept. Not for work. Luckily, it was his day off, but he tended to enjoy waking up closer to 7 or 8. Gives him more of the day to enjoy. More of the sunlight to indulge himself in. And less darkness to wallow in.

He groaned, lazily flopping off the bed and onto the hardwood floors. They were cool to the touch, a nice contrast to the sweat and heat that had accumulated on the man as he slept. As he dreamed.

And fuck… his dream. 

This was bad. It had gotten bad, and Eijirou didn’t know what to do about it. Could he do anything about it? Really? The dreams have been going on for nearly a week with little hope of slowing down. 

Quite the contrary. They were getting worse. More intense. More hungry. And honestly, Eijirou was having a hard time separating his dream feelings from his real feelings. 

And that was dangerous. Very dangerous. 

And it’s not like he hadn’t tried to stop. He had. He had done everything people suggested. Changing his environment, reading a book, sleeping with a sound machine, meditating. Nothing worked. Every night he was met with the same pair of eyes. And every night he couldn’t help the guttural desire burning in his stomach that always seemed to accompany the blazing red. 

It fucking sucked.

And tonight was the worst. By far the worst. The faint memory still lingered in Eijirou’s head, replaying over and over and over again like some kind of punishment from hell. 

He sat up from his covers, cracking his knuckles on each hand. He needed to clear his head. Do something. Do anything. Just get this damn dream off his mind. All the dreams honestly, but this one especially. Press pause of the rotating projection of Bakugou’s hands on his hips or the sound of his moans in his ears or the feel of his scars on his thum–

Fuck!

He needed to go for a run! A nice, long run! A run full of blasting music and sprinting as fast as he possibly could. Maybe stop and do some errands. Or grab a coffee. Or say hi to Mrs. Yumiko. Heck, maybe he’ll even drop by work and say hi to the front desk people. 

Okay, he can’t do that. Work is way too far to run to. But that’s the idea. Just get out of this room. Get out of the house. Focus his mind on something other than ash blonde hair and sharp eyes.

He slipped on some running clothes– not thinking much about what exactly he was pulling– and headed to the bathroom. He threw on deodorant, brushed his teeth, tossed his hair into a messy ponytail– never minding the neatness of it all– and practically sprinted out the door, headphones already on and blasting music.

He just needed some space. Something to do. Get his mind off things. Just for a bit.

…

Eijirou ran for… a while. He tried stopping by a cafe, but could barely sit still long enough to finish the coffee and bagel he ordered. He tried running errands and making visits, but each time he stopped, his mind would wander. Back to those dreams. Back to that dream. 

So he just kept running. And running and running and running. He ran until he couldn’t think anymore. Couldn’t think of lean, firm muscles or the feeling of gentle scars under his touch. 

And eventually it worked. Bakugou had vacated his mind and made his escape. At least enough for Eijirou liking. Enough for him to no longer feel like he was going insane by the minute.

He made his way home, huffing as he walked the last block and a half because, well fuck man, he just ran for like two hours straight?! With no water ‘cause he was a dumbass on a mission that morning, apparently. 

He walked, noticing the light breeze that wafted through the street and basking in it. The air feeling nice and cool on his skin, especially with how much he had managed to sweat during the run. Eijirou would say his run was moderately a success– keeping his mind off things well enough, even with the added jitters. 

Perhaps a coffee wasn’t the best idea after all.

As he walked, he fiddled on his phone, looking through his history of songs, and trying to find the ones he had been fond of in particular– adding them to his liked songs.

Once he reached the familiar grey concrete that lined the outside of his house, he tucked his phone in his pocket, and slipped the headphones he had been wearing to lie around his neck. But just as he did so, almost like a taunt, he heard the oh so familiar voice that seemed to haunt his dreams. 

“Dammit Deku! They fucking like you, you idi-”

“Bakugou?” Eijirou said, interrupting the man’s yelling. He just stared in disbelief, almost pinching himself because… Was he dreaming? Was this a dream? Why would he be here if it wasn’t a dream? Why would he suddenly feel that same pull if it wasn’t a dream?

Eijirou’s mind was spinning, and he honestly was questioning some part of his reality for a moment. That was until he saw the way Bakugou was looking at him. Astonishment and maybe a hint of fear behind his eyes– far from the blissed out lust he always held in Eijirou’s dream. So ready to take what he wanted. To take what was his. To embrace in the scents and–

Oh god, Eijirou! Not the time! Far from the time! Because this was reality, and Bakugou was staring at him, and he had to fucking say something instead of fantasizing about dream Bakugou. 

“What are you doing here?”

As Midoriya explained their presence at the house, Eijirou couldn’t help but dart his eyes to Bakugou every so often. Noticing his face. The quiet concern. The small tinge of guilt that laced his eyebrows. There was something there that kept drawing Eijirou in. To him. Something that he couldn’t quite place, and maybe… well shit. Maybe he wanted to. Maybe he needed to.

Needed to get something out of his system. Needed to calm the screaming voice in his head that seemed so entranced with the man before him for some reason. 

Eijirou wasn’t exactly the type to believe in some kind of spiritual power or anything– at least not to the degree of his mama– but he could admit when the universe might be sending him signs. Might be trying to tell him something. He could, at the very least, indulge. Even just for a moment.

As he led the two into the house, he yelled for his moms, who made their presence known in the living room down the hall– probably watching a show or something. Realizing Bakugou hadn’t followed, Eijirou allowed their freckly guest to make his own way through the house, saying he’d join in just a moment.

He peeked outside, hoping the man was still in range. Still available to talk. 

Because honestly…?

He knew. He knew something was off about the man as they talked. He knew there was more to the story. Sure, Midoriya had said Bakugou had done nothing more than give some directions, but… Eijirou could just tell. Maybe the way he reacted or something in his eyes. He could tell he wasn’t telling the truth. And Eijirou wasn’t going to let that go. He didn’t want to let Bakugou go.

So he wanted to talk. And maybe talking would help. Help Eijirou calm this strange carnal desire for the man. Help get him out of his head. His touch. His breath. His smirk. Fuck, Eijirou didn’t even know what Bakugou’s smirk looked like! So why couldn’t he stop thinking about it?

Maybe it would help stop all that! 

Stop the dreams that left him waking up breathless. Stop the ever distracting daydreams of that kiss. The real one. The one with so much promise behind it, but nothing to back it up. The one that made Eijirou feel so weak and naive. And yet, there it lived in his mind, playing on repeat. So maybe clearing the air between them would allow his head to move on. To latch onto something– anything– else to fixate onto.

At least, that’s what he hoped. 

He scanned the front of his yard for a moment, worried he might have to run after the guy, but no! Luckily he quickly locked on to that same crazed hair as it gently strolled away from him, turning out of his view and heading down the street.

He didn’t seem all that eager to get wherever he was going. Maybe lost. Maybe wandering. Eijirou silently hoped for that to be true. Make this conversation a whole hell of a lot easier. He called out, “Bakugou!” running over to him and rapidly coming face to face with those ruby red eyes. 

A hint of surprise came across his face, eyes widening ever so slightly before returning to, what seemed, like a neutral scowl. Practiced. Habitual. Like he was so used to hiding his feelings, yet, for some reason, Eijirou felt as if he could read him like a book. Like he knew this facade far too well.

Damn dreams.

“I… um… I…” Eijirou started, quickly realizing he had no idea what the hell to say. He felt the warmth of his embarrassment overtake his face and heating up his cheeks as he fumbled through his words. “I just… uh…” Fuck. This was already going poorly. Eijirou let out a breath, hoping it might reset his nervous system a bit before he spoke again, “Can you come in too? I… think we should talk.”

Slowly, Bakugou nodded his head, and Eijirou felt himself let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he was trapping. Clear shock spanned the blonde's face, and Eijirou couldn’t really blame him. He was shocked at himself at the moment, but, at the same time, he knew this would help. He knew it’d do something. 

And hopefully that something would be purging these dreams out of his head. He prayed to whatever deity may or may not be watching him that that would be the case.

As they entered the home, Eijirou quietly began to lead the pair through the short hall, already hearing the loud and excited voices of his mothers’ in the living room. Eijirou couldn’t help the earnest grin he held as he entered the open space connecting the kitchen and living room– seeing his mom and Midoriya sitting comfortably on the couch and discussing something about old age heroes and noticing his mama frantically trying to cobble together something to eat for the man.

Eijirou laughed a bit, always enjoying the quirks of his little family.

“Eiji!” She berated, noting his presence in the sound of his voice, “You didn’t tell us we’d have a guest– or a few guests!” Her eyes darted behind Eijirou, and he followed them, turning to see Bakugou leaning against the door frame, taking in the decor of the house and not paying much attention to their conversation. “We barely have enough food to serve a few snacks!”

“Oh please,” Midoriya chimed in, waving his hands, seeming to have caught that last part, “I don’t need anything! I’m perfectly happy with just a glass of water.”

“Nonsense,” Eijirou’s mom yelled from the couch, “Eijirou, can you stop by the convenience store please, and grab a few things for our guests?”

“‘Course mom,” he chuckled. Somehow that had kinda been perfect. He turned on his heels, facing Bakugou and easily coming face to face with the man, who seemed simply entranced by the house– looking up and down with wide eyes like a child seeing the world for the first time. “You wanna walk with me?” He asked with a gentle smile.

The question caught him off guard, awakening him from his daze and blinking back to reality, “...Y- Yeah. Sure.”

The pair left the house quietly, Eijirou leading them through the rehearsed route towards the convenience store that was carved into his memory. Practiced so many times, he could easily walk it with his eyes closed. 

And he has. 

He tended to get bored easily.

They walked in silence for a bit, Eijirou still unsure what to say. Should he say anything? Should he apologize? He doesn’t really have anything to apologize for. At least, nothing that Bakugou would know about. Should he just be upfront? Like hey man, I know I yelled at you and told you I never wanna see you again, but I keep having dreams of us making out, so maybe I need more closure than that.

That seemed like a bad idea. For so many reasons. Or perhaps more embarrassing than bad? But still. He couldn’t say that. Or at least not all of that. He could omit a few things right? Was that okay? Probably. 

Fuck, this was hard. 

“I’m sorry,” he heard the rough voice say behind him, stopping the rambling of words over words in his brain and physically stopping the dark haired man himself.

“What?” He turned to ask.

“I’m sorry about freaking out at you. And about the… the kiss.” His gaze was low, and his lips were tightened in a thin line as he breathed– filling the stunned silence that flowed around them. 

The silence Eijirou couldn’t help but feed. Not moving. Barely breathing. Because, yes, he wanted an apology, but he wasn’t expecting to get one so… easily? He supposed he wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting this conversation to have in store, but it certainly wasn’t that . At least, not right up front. 

“I don’t need you to say anything,” Bakugou said in response to the quiet. “It was a pretty shitty thing to do. I actually wasn’t really expecting you to forgive me in the first place. I guess that’s why I brought Deku over. Hoped he’d make up for that shitty day better than whatever shitty apology I can come up with, but… I guess that was just the fear talking.” Red met red, and for a moment, Eijirou really questioned if he had been transported into one of his dreams. Soft gaze so familiar. So magnetizing. As if they were the only two people in the world.

As if they weren’t in a real world to begin with.

Eijirou broke it, pulling himself back to the little street they were stationed on, going over Bakugou’s apology, perhaps analyzing the words and meanings too closely for any normal person. And his mind echo’d that same word over and over again. As if it were haunting his mind with its weight and history.

Fear . 

He chuckled to himself a bit, almost like it was some kind of inside joke. Like the fear that had followed him his whole life was nothing more than a silly pun him and his friends would say. A joke rather than the ghost of a dream that always seemed to peak its ugly head in his field of vision. Always making way once Eijirou finally felt… content, maybe even happy, with his life. 

“Yeah…” he sighed, “I get that, man.”

Eijirou’s thoughts spun through his mind like rusty cogs– working and moving, but not quite at capacity. Not quite as efficient as usual. Bakugou didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. Or maybe time was just still. Eijirou wasn’t sure if he could tell anymore. His mind was so full of conflicting thoughts and feelings and emotions. All scrambled like eggs on a pan, and he didn’t know what to say or do.

So he swallowed a gulp of air, turned around, and did what he knew best. He took the next step forward. “Come on,” he said, maybe too soft. Maybe too low for the man behind him to hear, but his brain was firing at too many angles to worry much about that at the moment. 

The convenience store was just a few meters away. Focus on the store. Focus on the task. He thought.

Eijirou entered, appreciating the cool air coming from the vents above him, realizing he was still pretty drained from his run. And had he gotten water in him? He should get water. 

He greeted the lady at the front desk and made his way through the aisles. His eyes searched for Bakugou a few times, noting his distance. His quiet demeanor. The unobtrusive way he seemed to just exist by the man. And honestly, Eijirou was grateful for it. Bakugou didn’t require an explanation or some kind of response or dismissal of his apology. He just let Eijirou process. 

And Eijirou needed to process a bit. Because fuck. The last time he saw Bakugou, he wanted to cry. He wanted to disappear into the air and pray no one would remember him. But now?

Part of him felt seen in a way he hadn’t felt before. And part of him was scared by that prospect. The idea that maybe he misjudged.

After all, he wanted this. He wanted to talk. He wanted closure. He supposed he was just expecting that that closure meant Bakugou would be out of his life for good. But maybe he was wrong. About everything.

By the time he made it to the register, he had a few packs of egg sandwiches, rice crackers, and a bottle of water held tightly in his hands. And, to be honest, he didn’t even remember grabbing them– simply running on autopilot. He turned in his daze to find those red eyes. They were beside him. In line with him. Maintaining distance, but still in his orbit. “You like these?” he asked, gesturing to the snacks in his hand and Bakugou just nodded. Slow and timid. 

Maybe he was in his head too.

Eijirou wouldn’t blame him. 

They quickly checked out, Eijirou carrying his items in a small bag. The walk home was much of the same. A soft hum of quiet between the pair as Eijirou’s mind continued to race. He had barely registered Bakugou walking next to him the majority of the trip. Simply stuck in the cycle of his thoughts. And considering the way the blonde was scowling at the ground below them, he could safely assume he was in that same boat.

They reached Eijirou’s house, the surrounding air feeling different, something final looming above them. Like something would change. Like this was about to change. And there was a sense of pressure squeezing his lungs that Eijirou couldn’t ignore. 

They entered the house, keeping the shuffling sounds of their feet to a minimum. Because at first, all they heard throughout the house was silence. Like a pin could suddenly drop and make the loudest echo in the hall. But as Eijirou tiptoed through the hall, he quickly understood the reason for the energy shift– hearing the quiet sniffling of his mom just around the corner. 

“We’re just so grateful for what you could do for us,” Eijirou heard her say, in a quiet whisper. “You don’t understand. You saved us. You’re our hero.” 

Eijirou didn’t move. He didn’t want to risk ruining this space. This moment that he knew was so precious to his family. So he simply listened to the soft sniffles of his mothers, feeling the weight of their words and trusting they’ll reach the green haired hero. 

“That-” Midoriya said in a choked voice, “That means… so much to me.” 

Eijirou’s heart tightened in his chest, and he felt himself begin to well up– throat running dry at Midoriya’s words. At his mom’s words. And as he turned to face Bakugou– who seemed to be getting choked up himself– he couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude. A sense of peace. And maybe something clicked. Maybe those thoughts, the one’s racing and fighting in his consciousness, could be set aside for a moment. Maybe they could just… talk? 

He tilted his head to his room, a silent ask to Bakugou to follow him to the room adjacent to the hallway they were crowded in. 

As they entered, closing the door behind, Eijirou felt his lungs release, so full of tension that he hadn’t even realized was there. He looked at Bakugou, who seemed to be equally relieved of extra tension– breathing a bit freer. A bit easier. He was looking around the room all wide-eyed like a puppy, similarly to how he acted in the living room. His interest peaked by each and every new object his eyes seemed to nab. Just taking it all in.

“Thank you,” Eijirou said, drawing those red irises to his own. His voice felt booming in the small space they shared, like he had somehow broken a spell they had been under for the past 10, maybe 15, minutes. “For the Midoriya thing…” he clarified, “I think… it means a lot to them.” Eijirou brought his hand up to his hair, playing with the long, dark strands. The light pull on his scalp grounded him, and he could feel himself breathing through the hesitant thoughts still looming in his brain. “And me. It means a lot to me too.”

With a tight smile on his face, Eijirou tilted his head, so his eyes could meet the sharp ones in front of him. Bakugou’s hands were at his sides, fiddling with the hem of his shirt and the waist of his pants.

Eijirou saw him take a long breath, in and out, as he averted his gaze to more of the knick-knacks of the room. Eijirou’s own eyes wandered, still unsure of where he stood. How he felt. The ground once solid below him now felt like jello, and he wasn’t sure where to go from here.

“Do you think…” The blonde started, eyes searching the pictures on Eijirou’s desk, “Do you think we can start over?” Eijirou looked, watching Bakugou’s expressions as he gathered his thoughts, nerves seeming to reveal themselves in the way he bit his lip or the drip of sweat running down his face. “I know that sounds crazy after everything. And I know I’m literally on thin fucking ice with you right now. And- well, I know I can’t take back any of what I told you the other day…” A breath. A reset. “It’s just been a long fucking week. And honestly, I could really just use a friend right now, ya know?” 

Bakugou met his eyes, and for the first time that day, smiled. It wasn’t much. A bit lopsided. A bit sad. A bit exhausted. But for some reason it eased Eijirou in a way he wasn’t expecting. Everything about the blonde just seemed to defy his expectations. And Eijirou wasn’t sure if that was good or bad yet.

Eijirou quietly shuffled over to his desk, ripping a small bit of paper from a nearby notebook, and scribbling down the memorized 10-digit code. It felt like it had been ages since he’s done this. And to be fair, it had been a while. Maybe too long. Maybe it was time to change that.

“Okay,” He said, handing the paper to Bakugou, surprise and a hint of hesitance lacing his features as he took it, “Just… can you promise not to pull anything like that again?” Bakugou nodded, and Eijirou let in a breath of air. One more try. He’d trust this guy one more time. Because maybe he needed to. And maybe he did care. 

Eijirou hoped.

“Good.”

Time began to race again, leaving behind all that stillness from mere moments ago, as they heard a light knock on the door. “Kacchan?” Midoriya said, creaking the door open just a sliver. “I’m sorry, but I actually really need to get some extra work done today. Can we head out?”

“Yeah,” Bakugou said as he and Eijirou began to trail out of the room, leaving the door open, so the heavy air left over could funnel out.

After a few protests from his mother’s– who were a tad appalled they hadn’t served any kind of food or drinks in time for their departure– Bakugou and Midoriya made their leave. And for once that week, Eijirou felt as if he could breathe easier, his air intake seeming cleaner than it had before. In fact, everything just seemed a tad cleaner. Maybe even shining a bit brighter.

…

Not long after the two guests left, Eijirou felt a light buzz from his phone.

Unknown Number: Hi. It’s Bakugou.

Unknown Number: Now you have my number.

Unknown Number: If you need anything, let me know.

Eijirou felt his lips curve up. Just a tad. Enough to notice, but not enough to worry. He took a breath– hoping this was okay. Hoping this was a good idea. Hoping he wasn’t mishandling his heart. Hoping he wasn’t making a mistake. 

It will all be fine, he thought. It would all be just fine.

Chapter Text

Eijirou wasn’t someone who liked to complain– whether that be in general or about a bad day. He tried his best to look on the bright side of things. There’s always a rainbow after rain and all that! Stuff his moms always taught him.

But today?

Today was fucking awful.

Sure, it hadn’t started off all that great. He was late to work, sleeping through his alarms and barely having the time to nab anything for breakfast. Not only that, but as he barrelled through his house, his foot knocked into the wood cabinets. His toe had practically been screaming through his shoe as he ran to make his train.

But it was fine. Really. Nothing more than just a bad start to the day. He hoped that the monotony of the hospital might put his mind at ease. That work would keep him on the upswing; keep him busy in that perfect sweet spot that allowed the day to just breeze on by.

As Eijirou clocked in, he set his stuff down and started looking at his assignments for the day, recognizing most of the patients, and making a mental checklist of what they’d need while he was taking care of them. That was until he caught the last name on the line-up, already foreseeing the kind of day it was going to be. 

His eyes scanned over the name. Once. Twice. Like maybe, he was misreading, or misremembering. But no. The name was unmistakable. The name that had made every other employee’s shift hell on earth, and now it was Eijirou’s turn to traverse the flames. He set his things on his desk, grabbed his stethoscope and clipboard, and made his way to the dreaded room.

Hanzo Yamaguchi, the sign by the door read, so very neatly and dainty, like he was nothing more than a sweet old man who needed assistance every now and then. Eijirou rolled his eyes, because he knew better. Everyone at the hospital knew better. 

And yes, maybe he was being a tad dramatic, but… listen. He just could not stand this guy. From the stories his co-workers had told him– stories of rude behaviors, mean language, and straight up sexist comments– he was more than excited to be rid of him in the coming days. 

His whole unit was! (They were planning a pizza party around it in fact.)

That’s just how bad this guy was. How do you gain such a terrible reputation at a hospital you had only been a patron of for less than a week? By being a dick to about every single nurse you came across. That’s how. 

And yes. Most of the time, Eijirou understood the circumstances. Many people coming into the rehabilitation unit were there because of some life altering medical event. That’s hard for even the most positive of people. Even his mom had her moments during her recovery period. 

Coming back from something like a stroke or a high risk seizure wasn’t easy, and Yamaguchi had admittedly suffered a bad hand with his surprise heart attack. For most people, suffering a life or death event like that might give them a new-found appreciation for life. A new excitement to live and find life in the small things. Eijirou’s seen it before. Plenty of times, actually.

But Yamaguchi? He seemed to just realize how much he truly hated the act of living. 

Or perhaps how much he truly hated hospitals? 

Either way, he was an absolute terror of a patient. And although he was due to be discharged soon, that didn’t change the fact that each nurse that had him often ended their shift either in tears or with clenched teeth. 

And Eijirou wasn’t sure what his sentence for the day would be. 

The man readied himself for what he knew was coming, taking in his last moments of peace before knocking on the propped open door. “Good morning, Yamaguchi-san,” Eijirou said, a wide grin plastered on his face as he traveled to the sink, dowsing his hands in hand sanitizer. “My name’s Kirishima. I’ll be your RNT today. How’re you doing this morning?”

Sitting in the hospital bed, arms stiffly crossed at the base of his ribs and face downturned was an older man in his 60’s. His posture was slouched over himself, shoulders and chest contorting enough to fold over each other in odd ways that couldn’t possibly be healthy for his spine. His head was pushed forward like an ostrich craning its neck to scope out danger, tense and straining with prominent veins popping at the base. 

He scowled at Eijirou like he had personally offended him, somehow, but that was nothing new according to his co-workers. He didn’t reply to Eijirou’s question. He simply glared at him, locking his eyes on each of the man’s movements as he stepped closer and closer. 

“I’m just gonna take your vitals real quick so you’re all ready for the doctor,” Eijirou said in response to the silence. And the man just scoffed at the comment, further collapsing himself into the firm mattress.

Eijirou sighed and retrieved his stethoscope from his pocket to start the– hopefully quick– examination.

As Eijirou began giving him instructions, in which Yamaguchi reluctantly followed, he could feel the older man staring him down. And it wasn’t a dazed, tired stare; it was the kind that growled and clawed. A glare that was easily paired with a scrunch of his nose and a snarl in his lips. And by the time Eijirou had written down his last measurement for the man, it felt as if beady eyes were doing their best to impale him right where he stood. 

Eijirou ignored the nervous sweat gliding down his forehead, and gave a half smile as he spoke, “Is there anything else you need before I check on my other patients?”

“Yes,” the man hissed, the sudden peak in volume almost making Eijirou jump in place, “I’m fucking starving! I’ve been up for two hours and haven’t gotten breakfast yet!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” Eijirou said politely, reminding himself that it was far too early in the day to be frustrated already. “I’ll make sure to inform someone from the cafeteria that you’re ready for your meal as soon as possible. My apologies. I didn’t see your call light go off.”

The man’s face scrunched even more before he snapped his voice once again, “The fuck you mean call light? I don’t need to use that goddamn thing.”

Eijirou felt like a needle went straight through his head, pain slowly throbbing behind his eyes as he spoke in his well practiced service worker voice, “Sir, unfortunately, if you don’t use the call light to ask for your meals, we will simply assume you’ll want it during our regular meal time hours.”

“That’s bullshit! I got my food almost immediately after I woke up yesterday!” Yamaguchi threw his hands up, almost dislodging the liquid IV in his arm.

Well, that’s because you slept in yesterday, and happened to wake up during the regular breakfast hours is what Eijirou wanted to retort back with.

But instead he steadied himself a bit, fanning the flames that were already starting to flare in the swell of his chest, and said, in as calm a voice as he could muster, “I’ll make sure to get your food to you, but please use the call light if you need anything else.” He began to exit, but stopped, adding on one more sentiment for his own peace of mind, “I’ll stop by your room as often as I can, but that device is for your benefit.”

Eijirou grit his teeth into one more smile before slightly bowing to the man and making his leave. The small bits of grumbled curses behind him couldn’t quite evade his ears, but he could pretend he hadn’t heard them at the very least.

…

On the bright side, Yamaguchi was using his call light now. 

However, instead of using it as an additional resource he seemed to be using it as a personal punishment to Eijirou– who had somehow dared to question his request that morning. 

So not only did the nurse have 4 other patients he was responsible for– doing his best to make sure they were all receiving the proper treatment they needed– but he also had to babysit a 67-year-old man who seemed it necessary to call Eijirou for tasks like “I can’t quite reach this one spot on my back that itches” and “well, the tv remote is just too far” (it was on his bedside table). 

This is all without even mentioning the times Eijirou had to help him in the bathroom. Yes, it was part of the job. Yes, he had done it hundreds of times with other patients, but that didn’t change the fact that Yamaguchi just seemed to make the whole thing especially dreadful for Eijirou in a way that just seemed cruel. 

By the time Eijirou was off for his lunch break, he was absolutely spent, wishing more than anything that he could lie in an ice bath to ease the soreness already present in his back and feet.

He nabbed his lunch from his desk and lugged his half broken body over to the break room on their floor– momentarily considering taking a nap rather than eating his lunch. But then he felt the quaking rumble of his stomach and decided that was a stupid idea.

As he entered the space, he heard the loud laughter of a group on the far side of the room. Just the volume of their voices made Eijirou’s head throb, and he did his best to ignore it as he slumped into a chair and opened his bento box. Food would help. Nothing like a nice meal to make the day a bit brighter.

As he dug into his lunch, practically inhaling every piece of it, he couldn’t help but hear the familiar voice of his friend peaking out from the loud group. “Dude, it’s going to be a blast!” 

Eijirou couldn’t help but look, curiosity overtaking his headache. And yeah. There was Kenji, laughing with his batch of friends as he spoke in that booming volume Eijirou was all too used to. 

“I got the whole top floor for us! They literally have a full separate bar up there that we’ll be able to use all for ourselves! I’m so hyped, dude!”

Eijirou quirked an eyebrow up as he listened. Had he forgotten about a party maybe? Was this all stuff he was supposed to be hearing, or should he leave it alone? Before he could reach for his phone to double-check his calendar, Kenji caught his stare, brightening up a bit and hurrying over to where Eijirou was sitting quietly. 

“Hey man, how’s the grump?” he asked, motioning in the direction of the patient rooms.

Eijirou rolled his eyes and groaned a bit, remembering all too well why he was so sore, “Oh, he’s just as awful as you guys have said he is. He’s been forcing me to do his bidding today ‘cause I asked him to use the call light when he needs something.” 

“Damn! I’m sorry bro! Let me know if you need me to check in on him,” Kenji gave a weak smile and shrugged, “For some reason, he seems to be alright with me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” Eijirou said with a light chuckle. “By the way, did I miss a birthday or something? What were you guys talking about over there?”

For a moment, Kenji’s face contorted, trying to recall what Eijirou might be talking about, before widening with realization. 

Kenji wore a sheepish grin and scratched the back of his head, staring at something by his feet like a kid caught stealing from a candy store. “Oh yeah… It’s nothing much. Just me and a few friends are going out tonight to one of the bars nearby. Just a little hang out!” Kenji let out a light chuckle that felt heavy in the air between them.

And suddenly, Eijirou was all too aware that it was a topic he shouldn’t have brought up.

Because he felt it. All over again. The familiar tightness in his throat that dripped and tainted the rest of his chest. The loneliness and isolation. The fear of being unwanted that he always did his best to avoid. In just a few seconds, it had snaked its way back into his mind, drying up his throat and souring his tongue.

Snapping back to the present, Eijirou swallowed the taste and gave his friend a soft smile, hoping no ill will or disappointment was seeping through his eyes, “That sounds like a lot of fun. I hope you guys have a great time!”

Kenji sputtered a bit as Eijirou went back to eating his food, “N-no man! It’s totally not like that!” Shit. Eijirou must’ve been more obvious than he thought. “We were totally gonna invite you, but usually you work on Sundays, so we didn’t think you would want to go out with us tonight, right? That’s all!”

“I… uh,” Eijirou sighed, giving a nervous smile, “I actually switched shifts with Shoda since she needed to have a day off for her kids, so I don’t work tomorrow after all.” Not to mention his schedule had been pretty wonky the last month and a half, so he hadn’t been working Sundays all that much, but he decided to leave that part out.

Kenji’s face lit up, stars practically taking shape in his pupils, “Dude, that’s great! You should totally come with us!” Kenji yelled, nearly vibrating with excitement as he leaned far further into the man’s space. “You know! My friend from high school’s gonna be there. That one I was telling you about,” he gave him a knowing smirk, and Eijirou immediately understood what he was insinuating.

As of late, Kenji had been trying to set Eijirou up with– what seemed to be– any other gay guy he knew. And, although he thought it was sweet, Eijirou was not really interested in anyone Kenji brought up. And recently, he couldn’t seem to stop mentioning an old friend from high school who moved close by for work. 

Honestly, Eijirou didn’t care much at the idea of meeting someone, but still… He certainly considered. He looked at Kenji’s face, and saw the genuine curiosity illuminating his dimples. Then something caught his eye. A pair- no a few pairs of eyes that were locked onto him. He glanced over to the group Kenji had just left, and they seemed to be… staring. 

Eijirou made eye contact with one of them, his stare a bit piercing before he averted his eyes. He saw a few more people whispering to each other, others looked at him with a quirked brow, like they were confused by something. By his presence? His appearance? His demeanor? His…. 

Oh.

They didn’t know who he was. 

Eijirou had worked with some of these people for years, and yet they had no clue who he was. He knew he hadn’t made friends with everyone in his unit, but he did his best to be sociable and kind to his co-workers like anyone should be. 

And they just looked at him like he was… invisible. 

Forgettable even.

“Thank you,” Eijirou finally said, bringing his eyes back to Kenji, and doing his best to not let his gaze drift over to the small group whispering in the corner, “But I think I’m good tonight. I’m already tired from Yamaguchi, so I’m sure I’ll be too beat to be any fun.”

“Damn!” Kenji said with an over the top pout, “That’s chill though. Let me know if you change your mind!” 

Kenji smiled one more time before walking off with a wave, leaving Eijirou to his half-eaten lunch that suddenly seemed far less appetizing. 

Eijirou took a long, silent breath in an effort to release all the pent-up tension and emotions that his friend left him with– attempting to calm those same rapid thoughts that always seemed to creep their ugly words back into his brain. 

He stared down at his bento. A pit formed in his stomach as he poked at the unfinished bits of food he couldn’t bring himself to finish. It wasn’t that big of a deal, really. He was just being overdramatic. He wasn’t going to read into it. He wasn’t…

Eijirou decided to end his break a tad early, capping the bento box with maybe too much force and trudging to his desk. He began filling out some leftover paperwork that had remained unfinished from earlier in the day. Something to keep his mind occupied a bit longer.

…

As much as Eijirou hated to admit it– considering how tired and frustrated he was with work– he had to at least thank his job for keeping his mind distracted for the rest of the day. Sure, he was sweating and tired and pretty sure he pulled something in his calf. Sure, his back ached from being on his feet nearly the whole day. Sure, his toes felt numb, and he had a piercing pain starting to form behind his eyes. But at least the insecurity that streamed through his chest was finally gone, replaced with the hurried buzz and stress that a patient like Yamaguchi required. 

There was no time to have lingering thoughts on what he could’ve done wrong or why he never seemed to fit quite right with his peers, not as friends, acquaintances, or even equals. No time because right down the hall was a 67-year-old man using the call light as if he were trying to send morse code. 

As Eijirou made his way back from dropping a patient off for their PT, he caught sight of that same torturous light and didn’t even attempt to hide his groan this time. 

He looked at his watch: 6:20 pm. At least his day was nearing its end finally. He had to check up on two other patients before he clocked out, so this would (hopefully) be his last interaction with Yamaguchi for the day. 

Thank god.

He steeled himself a bit, trying to relax his clenched jaw so that he could at least try to smile properly, and entered the room. 

“Hi Yamaguchi-san, what can I do for you now?” He asked, spreading a bit of hand sanitizer on and smiling that same polite smile from this morning, although unsure if it was having the same effect now that he was so exhausted.

“Ohh, my mistake…” the man said, the words long and drawn out, but each consonant punctuated like a sharp knife, like he was taunting Eijirou with just the feigned innocence in his speech. “I must’ve pressed the button on accident. Sorry, kid.” 

A smug smile crossed Yamaguchi’s face, and Eijirou nearly snapped his pencil in half with how tightly he was gripping it. “No problem,” he said through clenched teeth. “Well, I did want to let you know that I’m nearing the end of my shift, so if you need anything else, the nighttime staff will likely be helping you next.”

**“Thank fucking god,” he groaned up at the ceiling, doing little to hide the words from Eijirou’s ears. “Is a real man finally going to take care of me? Someone like Kenji-sama would be a nice change of pace from the rainbow shit.” 

The man’s lip lifted in a subtle snarl as he stared, and Eijirou, still a bit confused, followed his gaze down to the clipboard in his hands. Lots of small faded stickers adorned the back of it. One for the high school his mom worked at, a few cutesy ones his mama made him, and, of course, the large, bright rainbow flag in the top right corner. 

Oh. 

Eijirou’s blood went cold, as if there was a blizzard raging right above his head. The room around him felt tight, squeezing him in with each passing second like it was trying to suffocate him. He felt the sudden rush of red, hot heat bubble in the pit of his stomach, as if the pot of water he had been so carefully trying to cool was finally starting to boil over.

Because how dare this man sit there– after treating Eijirou like complete shit all day, after forcing him to run around and play his servant, after taking Eijirou’s time and energy without a care in the world– how dare he sit there and say he wasn’t a man because he was gay. 

Eijirou wanted to punch him to be honest. He wanted to sock him in the jaw for a comment like that. Wanted to stomp on his files, kick him out, and tell him to find a new hospital that would take his ungrateful ass in.

But he didn’t. 

He stood there, glare sharp. Fake smile finally wiped from his face, and instead replaced with pure disgust for the creature in front of him. His hands gripped tightly around the clipboard like it was the only thing keeping Eijirou in place. His teeth bit down on nothing, grinding just to force him to feel something other than the flames that consumed his chest.

And without a word. Without even a breath of acknowledgement, Eijirou turned and, as steady as he could, walked out the door– not paying attention to the jabs and yelling coming from the bed behind him. Because fuck him.**

As soon as he was out of ear shot, Eijirou quickened his pace to his desk, practically slamming into it. He leaned over, gripping the ends like a lifeline and released all the air that seemed trapped in his lungs, almost feeling like he might go into a coughing fit.

He stayed there for a moment, just breathing slowly, calming his racing heart as best he could with the constant sounds of beeping, and buzzing, and talking almost right beside him. 

His eyes caught the glint of his watch: 6:32 pm. He still had to finish his shift. Then after? After he could forget.

With shaky hands, he reached for the same clipboard, tracing his fingers on the stickers etched onto the wood. 

Standing in the small ounce of privacy his desk provided him, Eijirou looked around before taking a second to breathe. To feel all his senses. To feel real again. To remember why he was there. With one more gulp of hospital air, however overly sanitized it may be, he headed to another one of his patients rooms, allowing the weight to sink. Sink far enough to forget

…

7 pm finally hit and Eijirou clocked out, slumping in the chair by his desk for the first time in hours. He wanted so desperately to leave and go home, but his body ached, and his feet screamed for relief; just the thought of standing up again made him want to cry. So he sat there, taking in the soft echos of the night shift employees.

As he sat, a sudden bustling sound of voices filled his ears, stirring him out of his daze. He began to sit up, slowly, still attempting to let his body rest as much as he was able to. He checked around his desk, beginning to lazily gather his things into his small work bag. 

“PARTAY TIME!” Someone’s voice resonated in the hallway, and before Eijirou realized it, the voices were suddenly directly next to him, loud and obnoxious, making the pain that plagued his muscles seem all the more real. He rummaged through his bag real quick, and swallowed down some of the painkillers he kept in there for occasions like these.

“Hey Kirishima!” Eijirou heard Kenji yell as he skipped over to his desk, taking a seat on the hard wood in front of him. Eijirou grinned. It was tired– and probably further accentuated the harsh bags under his eyes– but it was real at least. He couldn’t lie. He was a bit happy to see his friend after his long ass day. “Woah! Dude! You okay?” Kenji asked. “It’s just… You look…”

“Yeah, it’s just been one of those days.”

“Well…” Kenji bit the inside of his cheek, looking in the direction that his group had walked off in, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? You seem like you could really use a drink. And hey, I’ll cover your first round!”

“Thanks man, but seriously, I’m so exhausted. I don’t think I could handle going out tonight.” Any other day, Eijirou probably would’ve said yes. He would’ve swallowed down the discomfort and the awkward anxiety in his stomach telling him he didn’t belong. He would’ve tried his best to go and have a good time with his friend. But today? He just wanted to go home. Honestly and sincerely, that’s all he felt he could handle for the rest of the day. 

“No worries, bro. Maybe next time!” Kenji said, nudging his shoulder and starting to back out to the exit. “Get some sleep. And maybe do something for you, you know?” 

Eijirou waved him off. And with a small wave in return, Kenji ran off to catch up with his friends, leaving Eijirou alone with his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair once more, chasing the quiet popping sounds in his back and neck the movement provided. 

For a moment, he closed his eyes and focused on his breath– the way his stomach rose and fell with his sighed inhales and exhales. He listened to the familiar sounds of the hospital– the rolling of carts and low voiced conversations between colleagues. He heard the way the daytime nurses subtly shifted into the nighttime ones, voices changing as if they were morphing one after another. There was a strange serenity to it that almost matched the buzz of white noise. 

Eijirou allowed his shoulders to relax, practically melting in the seat below him. The muscles in his face began to release, and Eijirou couldn’t tell when the music of the hospital dimmed into a soft lullaby.

…

“Kirishima-san?” a woman said as she nudged on Eijirou’s shoulder, steadily bringing his mind back to the waking world. 

Eijirou lifted his head off the back of the seat, feeling the way a sharp pain nicked at a sore spot of his neck. His eyes blinked open. Bleary. One at a time as if each one had been sealed shut with glue during his dreams.

Wait… Dreams?

Eijirou’s sleeping haze quickly dissipated, revealing the tireless and exhausting space of the hospital. He quickly jolted out of his seat, making the woman beside him jump at the sudden movement. 

Because fuck! What time was it? How long had he been sleeping? When did he clock out again? 

Seeming to notice his panic, the woman– who Eijirou now recognized to be Tsuda, one of his supervisors– held her hands up in front of him, waving them lightly to signal him to slow down. “Hey, hey. You’re good Kirishima-san,” she said in that light, airy voice that always seemed to give his rapid panic the space to breathe. “I think you were only out for 10 or 15 minutes, so don’t worry about it.”

She smiled, a bit nervous, but genuine and sweet, like she just wanted the best for Eijirou. And all Eijirou could really do was sigh, smile back at her, and slow his quickened heart with a long, deep breath. 

“Good?” She asked. And it wasn’t condescending or out of pity or malice, it was some real kindness. Real concern. 

“Good… thanks.”

“No problem,” Tsuda said, hugging her clipboard to her chest and turning a bit to exit out of the desk area. “Now go home, and please do something for yourself, Kirishima-san,” she  gave him a sturdy nod– confident and unwavering– before leaving Eijirou to his own devices.

He smiled back at her, giving her a light wave till she was out of sight and Eijirou was alone. Well, not alone. In the hospital, nurses never seemed to be alone, not physically. But in the space of sneakers scraping against tiled floors and keyboards clicking and clacking away by heavy hands, Eijirou was alone. Invisible. 

The hospital was stuffy– too many bodies without an ounce of fresh air in between. Although the sun was setting, the heat from the day lingered in the air, waiting to be pushed out by the A/C. And it all just felt oddly cramped.

Eijirou shook his head and rubbed his face, wiping away the last bits of sleep. Grabbing his bag, he slung it over his shoulders and reached for the phone that had been sitting quietly by his desktop. 

The screen blinded him with a large notification and blaring letters. It took up about half his screen and held the small triangular warning symbol in the corner, reading:

EXTREME WEATHER WARNING! TRAINS AND SUBWAY DOWN UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE IN KAMINO WARD!

For a second, Eijirou was frozen. His mind blank as he read the message over and over again, till something finally clicked, pushing him into motion. He slid his phone in his back pocket, and raced to the nearest window. One that could shed light on the storm that had only proven to be true through the bold lettering on his phone.

And of course, there he saw it, as if he needed to see it all with his own eyes to believe it. The black clouds circling the city. The way the wind washed over the trees, pushing and pulling like a toddler trying to get what he wants. The downpour on the streets and the crowds of people cramping into each new cab, one after the other.

Panic encircled his brain, twisting and turning and leaving its trail in every stem. The lid he had been working so hard to keep closed was starting to burst open with every passing second. Because what else could possibly top off this god awful day? What else did the universe want to throw at him? If his own exhaustion, homophobic comments, and a plethora of reemerged insecurities wasn’t enough? 

Well then, what the hell? Why not a storm? Maybe a tsunami while you’re at it!

Eijirou took a breath. And another and another and another like he had been all day– clenching and unclenching his fists as he watched the storm outside, trying desperately to think. He just needed to fucking think.

Even though the storm seemed to be contained to Kamino, he couldn’t use the trains or the subway for obvious reasons, so what exactly were his options right now?

He took a peek at his wallet, remembering the sight of yellow cabs honking throughout the street, but didn’t find much in the way of cash, so that was a no-go.

Grimacing a bit, he slid his phone out once again and checked the time: 8:02 pm

Fuck. Not only was it late– much later than he would’ve like– but he also was reminded that his moms were not home. They were chaperoning some event at his mom’s school and wouldn’t be home till late, so they were out of the question to contact. 

Biting the inside of his lip, he swiped the device open and clicked on his messages. His eyes locked onto Kenji’s name. He could ask. Maybe not for a ride, but perhaps if they had made it to their destination safely? With the storm and everything? Maybe he could join them after all. Race through the storm and meet up with Kenji and his friends? How bad could that be?

His thumb hovered, so close to tapping the name until he remembered the looks he had received at lunch. The way the group whispered, quirking their brows and staring at him like some zoo animal that needed a guidebook. 

Something crawled up Eijirou’s chest, lacing venom with every move like a bug. He felt it pounding and aching and he just… He just couldn’t do it.

He sighed as he scrolled away from the name, glazing over the other names in his phone. His moms, his supervisors, a few neighbors that he would help out with odd jobs when they asked. 

His eyes stopped on one name. One very familiar, almost haunting name.

Bakugou

He opened the message. The one he had received the week prior. 

Bakugou: Hi. It’s Bakugou.

Bakugou: Now you have my number.

Bakugou: If you need anything, let me know.

Eijirou combed a hand through his hair and bit down on his lip the way his mama would always scold him for. His eyes traced the last message. If you need anything, let me know. He reread it a few times, almost as if he needed to make sure the whole thing was real. 

His eyes scanned the storm one more time before they glued back to his phone as he typed out his message– erasing and rewriting each letter, until he finally decided on his wording.

Kirishima: Hey, any chance you might be able to help me out with something?

Simple was probably best after all.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and stared out the window more, noticing the scuffling behind him from admin and nurses traveling between floors. Not long after, he felt the light buzz, and he checked his messages again.

Bakugou: Yes. What do you need?

Chapter Text

It happened fast. So fast it almost felt surreal. Like Katsuki was still in some kind of dream. Like all those nights in this world had bled together, and now he couldn’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality.

Because one moment he was just laying on the couch, feeling a bit too full after dinner, watching as Izuku scrolled through movies, trying to find something for the pair to watch. Something to pass the meaningless time. Something to distract Bakugou as he waited for answers. Because right now that was all he could do.

Wait. 

He had amended things– at least to the best of his abilities– with Eijirou. He had contacted the few heroes Deku had connected him with, but hadn’t heard a peep. Maybe they just didn’t care. Maybe heroes just didn’t care here. Maybe that was just another fucked up thing about this world that Katsuki would have to get used to.

So now all Bakugou could do was rot on the couch and wait. Wait and hope that he’d receive some good news sooner rather than later. Or at least soon enough to keep his universes Eijirou from worrying too much.

Eijirou consumed a lot of his thoughts as of late. Not just the one here, but his Eijirou. The one stuck at home, probably worried sick. Sometimes, Katsuki could swear he could hear Eijirou’s silent prayers reach him. His voice whispering against his ear, “come home to me,” as he tried to fall asleep at night. His thoughts racing faster and sleep seeming so much further from reach as he laid motionless.

Those nights were the hardest. 

But they also reminded Katsuki that he needed to get home. To his husband. His kids. His life.

He was restless, often left to his own thoughts– the wandering voices in his head. He spent a hell of a lot more time walking. Exploring. Days he was left alone, feeling how the apartment seemed to shrink around him by the minute, he’d leave. Go out and explore the areas of the city he thought he had memorized, only to see how they had altered. Sometimes in big ways, but more often in small, yet noticeable, ways. 

The cracks along the cement were deeper, wider, less structured. The colors of signs and posters had become dimmer and more muted. Windows had become darker, hiding shops and cafés from prying eyes. The city had overall felt more enclosed. More focused on indoor activities, rather than the bustling community it once was.

As much as he hated to admit, Katsuki had adopted a habit from Izuku, deciding to write down the changes he noticed in a small notebook– hoping that if he had it all in one place, if he went over the information enough times, something might click. Some puzzle piece would fall into place.

But nothing had yet.

So for now, he was stuck. Waiting.

At least, that was what he was doing before he received a sudden and unexpected text message from the man of the hour (well in Katsuki’s eyes, the man of every hour.)

Kirishima: Hey, any chance you might be able to help me out with something?

The notification on its own made Katsuki fall on the floor. A hard thud jabbed at his right shoulder, but he was too stunned to feel the pain– feeling more disbelief than anything. 

“Oh my god! Kacchan?” Deku gasped, possibly just as shocked as Katsuki by the outlandish reaction. “Are you okay?”

Katsuki stumbled his way back onto the couch as he muttered, “Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit shit shit!” His eyes were glued to the text message, feeling like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, up until he shoved the phone in Deku’s face. “What the fuck do I say? What the fuck does this mean?”

For a moment, Izuku seemed confused, unsure by what exactly he was looking at. And then it clicked. His eyes widened, and he swallowed a gulp of air before matching Katsuki’s streaming of curses, “Shit. shit shit shit! Fuck! Oh my god!” 

Deku immediately stood up, shaky hands pronounced as he started pacing the living room, mumbling under his breath in that way that made Katsuki’s eye twitch. All incoherent. All annoying, but it was part of his process, so Katsuki didn’t snap at him… yet.

“You… You need to answer him!” he finally yelled. “Y-yes! Tell him yes! Oh my god! Answer him right now!”

It was so obvious. And yet, it wasn’t, because Katsuki had already fucked this up once before. So what if he did it again.

Katsuki felt his breath hitch in his throat as he swallowed down his nervousness. He started to type something, feeling the way his thumbs shook as they hovered over each character in his phone.

Katsuki: Yes. What do you need?

He and Deku both held their breath, awaiting Eijirou’s response. Their chests were taut, and Katsuki felt the way moths flapped their wings on the edges of his stomach, fluttering and darting around in ways that made it churn like a stew that had been left on the stove for too long.

Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then reappeared again. Then disappeared again. 

And they were gone for what felt like hours, seeming to hide under the anticipating stare of both red and green irises. And just before Katsuki let out a sigh of resignation– just before he had decided to dowse his hopes from getting too high– his phone began to buzz and hum, vibrating softly in his hand. The name filled the screen brightly like some kind of beacon.

Kirishima

For a moment, Katsuki just stared, disbelief filling his chest so much so that there was no room left for oxygen. At least, until Izuku gave him a rough shove on his shoulders accompanied by a hurried, “Kacchan!” that seemed to snap Katsuki out of his trance. 

Red eyes jolted up to stare at Deku, face frantic because fuck, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do right now. 

And that immediately felt like a stupid thought as Deku replied to his silent question with “Answer it!” 

Katsuki jerked at the command. He fumbled with the phone for a second, almost dropping it several times, before finally pressing the answer button and scrambling to ensure the device was to his ear.

Silence engulfed the room and Katsuki let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he answered in a slightly shaky voice, “What’s up, Kirishima.”

Immediately, his thoughts spun. Was that too casual? Was that too weird? Was he being normal? What even was normal at this point? Had he fucked up already? Just as he was starting to be let back in?

All too quickly, those thoughts were silenced by a small sniffle on the other end. It was quiet, and Kirishima had definitely been attempting to hide it, but it was there. Clear as day, at least to Katsuki– the one who’s heard that same sniffle a million times before. The one who knows the exact way Eijirou hides his terror and fear and ache from the world. 

“Kirishima…” Katsuki started gently, suddenly feeling like his words could carry the weight of bombs. “Are you okay?”

He heard little breaths over the phone, unsteady, trying– trying so damn hard– to be even before he spoke. He heard the way lips pressed against themselves, trying to wet the dryness that spread along them, and a hard swallow that held a lump and likely more tears than Katsuki had realized. 

“Yeah,” Eijirou finally said, his voice crisp, like it was holding something back. Katsuki heard a breath, long and deep, trying so hard to be silent, but to the blonde? It was as loud as ever. “I guess I wasn’t really the best planner this morning, and didn’t really account for the weather all that well.” A chuckle rang through the phone, lifeless and burdened. A mask Katsuki was all too familiar with. “So I’m kind of stuck at work. Would it maybe be possible to get a ride… Like if it’s not too much of an inconvenience and all?”

Katsuki’s breath caught at the top of his throat, stopping him from making a single sound. His pupils grew, frantically shifting back and forth between the couch and coffee table and rug. Thinking. Thinking of some kind of way he could help Eijirou. 

In his world, he could come up with a plan. He could figure something out. That’s what he was good at. Problem-solving. Acting before thinking. But here? 

He didn’t have any resources. He knew pretty much nothing of this new reality besides the few spots he had managed to explore in a week's time. 

If he could, he’d run. He’d race to wherever Eijirou was and find him. He’d chase him down and keep him safe and protect him. But as much as he wanted to just go. To figure it out along the way, he knew that’d do more harm than good. For Eijirou more so than him.

Katsuki had no car. No access to transportation. No legal way to use his quirk. No contacts. He was as stuck as his husband. 

But Eijirou needed him. 

This was his chance to make a change– to take some kind of step forward– and it was slipping from his fingers with each second that passed. 

A loud whistle brought him back from his spiraling. Katsuki shot his head up to find keys, midair, being thrown at him. He caught them without thinking, looking from the keys to their thrower, Izuku. 

Katsuki stared, eyebrows furrowed looking between him and the keys. And Izuku just gave him a soft grin, as if this was normal. As if this didn’t mean everything to Katsuki. “What are you waiting for? Go get him, Kacchan,” the nerd ordered with more certainty in his voice than he had shown Katsuki in the last few weeks.

Katsuki let out a small chuckle, allowing himself to smile at the gift his friend had offered him. His thumb rubbed against the bolded logo that was etched onto the keys, feeling the smooth edges of the engraving. He handled it like a priceless treasure, because right now? It was.

He looked back up to Deku, who was just grinning back at him, a smile wider than any he had seen in so long. “Thank you,” Katsuki whispered, too soft, almost mouthing the words instead of speaking. But Izuku understood. 

“Bakugou?” Eijirou’s voice broke through his ears, vibrating with some newfound vigor. Like hope. Like a joy that Katsuki had been too scared to feel before this. 

Katsuki hopped off the couch, making quick work to slip on some shoes as he said, “Yeah, I’m on my way. Send me the address?”

…

Katsuki sat in his car waiting for Eijirou to come out, the only sounds to fill his thoughts being the hum of the car engine and the light shifting of his leg that bounced along the leather of the seat. He hadn’t been there for long. Maybe three minutes, but he still couldn’t help but feel antsy– taking note of the way his throat dried up or how sweat coated his palms as he gripped the steering wheel. 

A soft hand knocked on his window, catching Katsuki’s attention until his eyes met cold, tired ones. There were bags under Eijirou’s eyes, and it looked like his whole body drooped– melting onto the sidewalk like some kind of tired sludge of a man. 

The blonde unlocked the car, hearing the click of the doors, and Eijirou slid in. Silent. Slumping into the seat like it was the first time he had sat in years. His eyes were no longer that beautiful flash of ruby red they once were. They almost looked like they had greyed, losing their color. As if Eijirou’s soul had only been drained, half present, lighting up his irises to half their potential. 

He buckled himself up and let out a quiet sigh, “thank you…” he whispered. His gaze was stuck on the glove compartment, not daring to meet Katsuki’s worried stare. 

Because what had happened. Why did he look so… broken?

“Are you–”

“Long day…” Eijirou interrupted.

After a moment of silence, of staring, of Katsuki silently begging Eijirou to talk to him, he finally decided to start driving. 

Suddenly every memory that Katsuki had– every time he had comforted Eijirou, had been his person to lean on, to cry to– it had escaped his brain. He wasn’t quite able to process how to proceed. How to approach the situation.

It’s not like the blonde was all that great at the whole comforting shit in the traditional sense. People always had said he was too blunt. Too abrasive. Too solution oriented. But with Eijirou? Somehow it worked. Somehow they worked.

How?

Katsuki tried to think. Tried to remember something from that first year at UA. Back to the time they still seemed new. Still tried to develop something that hadn’t been there before. 

An image of the week after Kamino surfaced in his head. Returning the money to Eijirou after the whole ‘night vision goggles’ fiasco. 

Words didn’t feel like enough back then. Nothing seemed enough.

Words weren’t quite right, always sounding hollow and fake, especially out of Katsuki’s mouth. He did best with actions. With little things that he had hoped Eijirou would notice, even in small ways.

And he had.

Eijirou had always said that Katsuki showed his care for someone through subtlety. That he paid enough attention to the people around him to know what they needed when something went wrong. To know how to be a calm presence in a storm of chaos.

Katsuki never really believed him.

He was loud and brash and rude. A “calm presence” wasn’t exactly what he was well known for. But there was something about that concept that sparked something in Katsuki’s brain. An idea. Something that might get through to this version of the man he knew inside and out.

“I wanna show you something,” Katsuki said, making a small turn, away from the direct path home and towards the awaiting detour.

“What?” Eijirou turned to him, bouts of panic flickering in his eyes as he watched Katsuki turning off the main road. “No Bakugou. I’m so tired. I just wanna–”

“Kirishima,” The blonde glanced at Eijirou, holding it for as long as he could before it was unsafe. “Can you trust me? Just this once?” Katsuki pleaded, biting the edge of his cheek in anticipation, because Eijirou had no reason to trust him. But god, he hoped he’d give him one more chance. One more chance to prove that he could be important to him somewhere in the depths of his heart.

For a minute, only the buzz of the car was heard. Something heavy and thick tying together Katsuki’s words, as he felt Eijirou’s eyes scan him for seconds too long.

“O-okay,” he finally said, and Katsuki let out a sigh.

“Good,” The blonde nodded, the edges of doubt grazing through his head, before he pushed them out to recall the directions to the junkyard.

…

The rest of the drive was quiet. A nervous anticipation starting to build between them as Katsuki made his way through off roads. Although he was definite, certain, that this would work, he knew the man beside him was sitting uneasy, twiddling his thumbs as his mind likely raced with possibilities to where Katsuki could be bringing him.

As they pulled up to a tall chain link fence, parking right beside it, Eijirou looked at Katsuki half mortified. And Katsuki could tell it was light. Sure, he was probably confused, but there was an air of astonishment and disbelief in his expression. 

Katsuki let out a chuckle at Eijirou’s bewilderment. He couldn’t help it. After years of going along with Eijirou’s shitty, dumb ideas— that, in hindsight, always ended up being a blast— this almost felt like payback. Because in that moment, Katsuki almost saw himself in the version of Eijirou staring back at him. Afraid, shocked, and maybe a little too intrigued to hide it well. 

“Chill out Shitty Hair. I promise I’m not planning to murder you or some shit like that,” Katsuki said without thinking, and he almost winced at the resemblance of his words from that day in the park. That day that went so terribly wrong. He grimaced, starting to apologize until he heard a light huff from the other man. 

Something easy. Something lighthearted. Like maybe the words were now some kind of inside joke they could share.

Something about it just… eased Katsuki’s tension. It almost sounded nostalgic. Like that day was just a funny memory to Eijirou. And maybe part of it was. And maybe for just a moment, Katsuki allowed himself to hoard a bit of hope for this relationship. 

With that thought in the back of his head (and a soft smile spread across his face), he got out of the car and opened the trunk, pulling out two metal baseball bats. Once he closed the back door, he looked up to find Eijirou out of the car and staring in confusion. 

Feeling a tinge of confidence, he shot him a grin with a click of his tongue as his head jerked towards the metal fencing, prompting Eijirou to follow. 

Soft lighting lined the perimeter of the fence. The metal on the gate was rusted and old, parts of it had bent and torn leaving sharp edges that could break skin if someone wasn’t careful while climbing it. It looked like the gate used to be electrified, a layer of security that whoever owned the land just didn’t seem to care for anymore.

The pair walked up to a door that was carved out of the fence. At the gap, where door met wall, there were chains, large thick metal ropes that hung down and around– looping through the holes in the fence. A lock had probably once been used to secure the area further, but now the chains were bare and broken, seeming to have been cut years ago. And now all that remained was the rotting links that clung to the door like glue. 

Once they crossed the border, Katsuki led Eijirou in deeper, where that same soft lighting scattered throughout the junkyard, shining a bit of light on the wreckage that laid before them. It revealed all the abandoned trucks and cars and machinery that laid motionless on the dirt. 

Cars sat static, rotting away. Cracked glass and dented doors caught in the little light that peered over them as they walked. 

Katsuki’s eyes scanned through the abandoned area, huffing out a smile, cause damn. Out of all the things that had changed in this universe, this shitty little junkyard somehow stayed exactly the same. The upkeep was still shitty, the mess of things was still battered and destroyed, and he somehow found himself here with Eijirou once again. 

Memories flooded his thoughts. The first time they had discovered the deserted mound of dirt. Memories of Eijirou grabbing his hand, forcing Katsuki to run around the array of land, twisting and turning like they were in some maze, just so they could find a car– any car– that they might be able to spruce up, just enough to teach Eijirou how to drive. 

And that had only been the start. They came around this area often after that. Sometimes to look for parts, or clean up the garbage, or just to talk. 

The separation from the city was helpful in a way that their homes couldn’t quite give them. It gave them space, a little sanctuary away from the city, or parents, or mentors, or hero work. A little sanctuary just for them.

He remembered one time– one of the first days after Eijirou had gone solo– when Katsuki found him curled up, breathing into the crease of his elbows right outside the walls of fencing. His breaths were unsteady, close to breaking with every new inhale. 

And Katsuki just held him. Whispered words. Any words. 

Some were of encouragement, and some were just him filling the silence, because for some damn reason, Eijirou liked his voice. Found solace in it. He liked the way Katsuki told stories. The way he viewed the world. And it hurts to think he let it slip from his fingers so easily.  

Eijirou trailed behind Katsuki, taking in all the garbage and junk that surrounded them as they moved past each lamp post, waves of light and dark passing as they walked. 

The size of the junkyard had always seemed so much bigger than you’d expect at first. The fencing at the front didn’t quite convey the depth of land it stretched over. How it created piles upon piles of abandoned trash for miles on end.

Katsuki wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, just allowing his eyes to glaze through each area, picking out bits and pieces of things he could see. A few couches and TV’s stacked on top of each other. A few cars place precariously on a slump that seemed like one wrong move might cause a landslide.

Nothing ever felt quite right. 

Until he stumbled across a car that sat directly under a beam of light like it had been waiting for them to arrive, presenting itself in a spotlight designed for it. The car was old and rusted. Some parts were falling off— a broken door handle here, a few tires missing there— but it was put together well enough. It looked to be safe to crowd. 

The perfect subject, Katsuki thought almost with a maniacal air.

“Oi!” Katsuki called behind him, grabbing Eijirou’s attention before he lightly tossed one of the bats in his hand to him. “Here.”

“I…” Eijirou stared at the metal object resting in his hands, “What is this Bakugou?” His voice was tired, but Katsuki knew he’d enjoy this. He knew Eijirou. He knew this would work. So he pressed on. 

“Hit the car,” the blonde said, so direct. So purposeful.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take the fucking bat, and hit the damn car, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou ordered, not realizing how the nickname slipped from his tongue till it was too late. But part of it felt good. Natural in a way nothing else in this world did. 

“Dude! We’re gonna get in trouble,” Eijirou whined, and Katsuki couldn’t help but huff a laugh. 

“Listen, I don’t think anyone’s given a fuck about this shitty place in a long ass time. You seem like you’ve had a shitty day, and I’ve honestly had a fuckin’ hell of a month. So either you can join me as I beat the shit out of this car, or you can watch me have all the fun. Take your pick.”

With that last word, Katsuki strolled over to the car, hopping up on the hood and aiming his bat at the cracked windshield. 

He stared for a minute, almost like he needed to channel his anger. He had been so sad for so long, he almost felt like he forgot what it was like to be genuinely enraged. 

But then a face flashed through his mind. The face of that fucking woman that literally was haunting his dreams. Visiting every so often to “check up on him” as she put it. But really it was just her way of torture. Of control. 

And every time Katsuki woke up in tears, gasping for any air he could, he was just further reminded of how he wasn’t waking next to his husband. How he couldn’t be held by strong arms and firm hands. How he couldn’t hear the sweet sounds of his simple “it’s okay” as Eijirou rocked him back to sleep. 

As he raised his bat, he channeled all that rage and loneliness and bitterness that Scar Face left him with every day, and slammed the weapon down hard, shattering the windshield— bits scattering in such a satisfying way that Katsuki couldn’t help the wicked grin starting to form on his face.

He raised the bat again and again and again, feeling the therapeutic nature of hitting something. It filled him up with something akin to pride. Something that finally felt like him. He felt himself smile, even laugh with each new dent he made in the car. And the only thing that brought him back to earth was the sound of metal clanking behind him.

He looked, and saw Eijirou. Saw Eijirou looking back at him, bat lodged in a small, newly formed dent on the car.

Their eyes met and breaths caught. Eijirou was panting, like he had mustered up every ounce of strength to join Katsuki in on the fun. 

And the blonde sighed. But it wasn’t defeat or resignation. It was relief. The kind of sigh after a day of hero work. A job well done, and now he finally felt like he could relax.

He flashed a smug smirk at Eijirou before turning back to his own corner of damage. 

As he swung, hits getting harder and more chaotic, he couldn’t help but laugh. A full, hardy, loud laugh. 

Because fuck. In all the time he had been here, had he ever let himself release? He had been holding onto so much. Carrying so much. Now that he had the chance to let go, he wanted to enjoy it. Revel in it.

And by the sounds of banging and clanking beside him. The sounds of a laughter that echo’d his own. Finally releasing. Finally saying “fuck it.” Finally letting go. Katsuki had an inkling that Eijirou felt the same. 

So he laughed and Eijirou laughed. And at some point they started yelling. Started screaming curses out into the sky. 

Eijirou cursing at someone specific. Started muttering a name that got louder and louder with each hit, until Katsuki was hearing the name in full. “Fuck Yamaguchi,” he heard from beside him.

And Katsuki just egged him on with a “Yeah! FUCK YAMAGUCHI!” as he kept hitting. Kept laughing! 

Because who the fuck was going to hear them? Who was going to tell them no? Their voices filled the night with the melody of tired cackling that might sound manic to the average person. But to Katsuki? It was music. And he just wanted to keep enjoying this sliver of a moment. 

This moment that truly seemed like he was back in his universe, with his Eijirou.

…

“No, seriously! That’s exactly what he said!” Eijirou cackled in the seat beside Katsuki. 

The pair sat in front of Eijirou’s house, car parked but seat belts still locked, like keeping them latched would hold off ending the night in full. Because Katsuki didn’t want to end the night, and from the sounds of his laughter and the way his eyes sparkled with something that felt almost like home, Eijirou didn’t either. 

 Katsuki felt a swell of pride ringing through his heart as they talked. Just sitting in this car like it was the whole world. Like it meant something. And something felt so familiar, so comfortable. For the first time, this Eijirou and his Eijirou combined to make someone that had Katsuki wrapped around his finger.

“Fucker sounds gay to me if he was so hell-bent on being taken care of by your friend,” Katsuki rolled his eyes then muttered, “Fucking asshole.” 

Honestly, his blood was fucking boiling at the mess of things that had plagued Eijirou that day without someone so much as sparing him a glance. Fucking infuriating. 

He tried to stay light, but he couldn’t quite help the way a needle stabbed at his chest with each word Eijirou spoke. He couldn’t quite tell if he was more upset with the people around Eijirou for letting it all happen, or himself for cursing him into this situation to begin with.

“Well, he’s getting discharged soon thankfully, so hopefully I won’t need to deal with him again,” Eijirou said, relaxing into his seat and looking up at the black furnishing inside the car.

Katsuki quirked a brow at him, “No, not the patient guy. I mean- the old fart’s definitely a homophobic bag of dicks, but this Kenji doesn’t sound all that great either.” Katsuki huffed.

The memories of Eijirou’s middle school friends popped into his head. Or even worse, images of guys who thought they could walk all over the redhead, as if his charming and soft demeanor was some kind of weakness they could exploit.

“Wha- What?” Eijirou gasped, “Nah man! Kenji’s cool!” The man’s hand went to scratch the back of his neck, curling them into the black hairs above it. “He’s just got a one track mind sometimes, you know?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes– out of Eijirou’s view– but decided he shouldn’t push it further, “Yeah. I guess.”

Silence settled between them, resting like a blanket too light to be warm, but not thick enough to be heavy. Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek and fiddled with the hem of his shirt, eyes tracing the line of thread that matched too perfectly with the color of the shirt. 

Eijirou cleared his throat, breaking up the hum of the engine, “Thanks… By the way,” he started, he averted his eyes to the console in the middle of them, his lips curved up into half smile. “For the ride home… and everything else.”

Katsuki stared at Eijirou whose eyes were half hidden by the way his bangs laid across his forehead. A sharp tooth stuck out from his top row of teeth, biting down lightly on his bottom lip. There was just a pinch of pink painting a light coat over his cheeks, and Katsuki felt his heart leap as he choked out a response sufficient enough for someone so earnest in everything he did. “No problem… Any time.”

Red eyes looked up, staring back at him, maybe taken aback at first but quickly matching intensity. 

Suddenly they heard a rip.

They quickly looked to the sound, finding a tear in one of Eijirou’s pant legs, and right over it, a hardened hand with fingers that seemed to morph into claws. 

Unbreakable, Katsuki thought before the melodic sound of Eijirou’s laugh distracted him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, head tilted back as he chuckled, “guess I need to grab a new pair of scrubs later.”

“Does that…” Katsuki slowed, picking his words a bit more precisely, “Does that happen a lot?”

“Not really, just when I get like super sore. Ya know, muscles just tend to hold the tension and stuff. And dude, my hands been sore today.” Eijirou clenched and unclenched his hand slowly, each movement deliberate. The hardening fazed out of the hand, but it was clearly still tense– joints still stiff and glued into position.

“Here, lemme…” Katsuki trailed off as he yanked Eijirou’s hand towards him. He let his muscle memory take over as he pressed on the practiced spots on the hand, rubbing each spot carefully until he felt the release. 

He remembered those long days at home, when him and Eijirou were first starting pro work full-time. How they’d get home tired, exhausted, and sore from head to toe. How they’d take turns taking care of each other, drawing hot baths and refilling water. And how one of Eijirou’s favorite things were hand messages– the heat that radiated off Katsuki’s palms making the whole experience feel like the perfect spa (in Eijirou’s words).

Minutes passed. Katsuki wasn’t sure how long, far too focused on his task to keep track of time, but once the hand he held felt soft, bones like jelly, as if it was merely a lump of putty resting in Katsuki’s hands, he stopped and looked back up at Eijirou– a smile tugging at his face.

And all too quickly, he realized they were close. Much closer than they had been before, noses inches away from touching. Close enough for Katsuki to see the deep blush that spread along Eijirou’s cheekbones and into his ears. Close enough to feel the heat of Eijirou’s breath and hear the pounding of his heart through his chest. 

But Katsuki was frozen, unable to do anything but stare, the only thing grounding him being Eijirou’s hand resting in his own.

A whisper, quiet– like the volume might break something fragile– came from Eijirou’s voice. “How… did… you…?” 

Someone’s breath hitched, a low gasp. A quiet stutter. Katsuki’s not sure whose it was. Not sure who broke the electricity. Not sure who took the first chance to get out of that, but once the seal broke, so was the moment. Gone. 

They pulled apart, Eijirou rubbing at the hand that had been laying in Katsuki’s for so long. “Um… I think I should probably head in.”

“Yeah… Probably.”

A heavy weight filled the car as Eijirou quietly gathered his things, unbuckling and opening the door. 

But there was a pause. A moment.

And as he looked back at Katsuki, he gave him one more smile. The one he had been wearing at the junkyard, or even just moments before. And something started to ease between them again, melting like an ice cube on a warm summer day.

“Seriously man. Thank you for today.”

Katsuki gave him a smile back, maybe it was a bit crooked, a bit tight, a bit imperfect, but it was real. “Any time, Shitty hair.”

And Eijirou just laughed at the nickname as he closed the door to the car.

Katsuki watched in silence as the uniformed man scurried up to his front door and into the house. And once the door closed, he felt the tight-lipped smile turn to something bigger. Something more embarrassing. Something uncontrollable. 

It was almost nostalgic in a way. And part of him was mad that his heart was betraying the plan he had conjured up in his head, but another part of him didn’t care. Didn’t care that his stomach was full of butterflies; that he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. 

He didn’t care as he drove home, dancing to a beat that came from his chest rather than the one that blasted through the car speakers. 

He felt a buzz in his pocket, and at the next red light, he checked the notification, seeing the name that just made his chest pound faster.

Kirishima: Get home safe, man! GN!

Fuck, he would need to tell Deku everything. And Katsuki hated how excited the thought made him feel as he typed out a quick reply.

Katsuki: You too. Goodnight