Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Don't you need a licence to take pictures of people like that?" Sero squints at the camera held proudly in Denki's hands. After three more shudders and flashes, he's granted a response.

"No, I don't think so, actually." Denki shrugs. "Or, well, I hope not. Or I'll be going to jail." He laughs at himself. Ever since his grandfather gave him his old, rusty camera, Denki has decided it his calling to be a reporter. For the past three days, he's been entranced, photographing everything he sees. Including whisps of blonde hair.

"Point that camera at me again and I'll lodge it in your throat." Katuski spits, barely looking at Denki as he lowers his camera.

"Sure thing," He groans.

Denki, Katuski, Sero and Izuku found themselves observing a third year training session. With Aizawa sick, and no lessons until later in the afternoon, the four wanted to make use of their free time. Well, Katuski and Izuku did, but the others liked to follow like helpless ducklings.

Denki flashes his camera once more as a girl with a water quirk shot a cacophony of aqua bullets. "That was the coolest fucking thing I've ever seen," He marvels as he lowers his camera. Izuku, second in amazement, leans further over the railing.

"You're right! These third years are incredible!" He gleams, watching a boy dart from corner to corner.

"Are they hell," Katsuki groans. "I could do that in my sleep."

"Sure" Denki teases. "The boy with an explosion quirk could shoot water bullets in his sleep."

"Watch yourself, or I'll blow that camera up in my sleep." Katuski spits, and Denki ducks his camera safely in his lap.

Izuku interrupts their bickering. "Hey, do you guys want to go down there to watch them closer up? I think I could take better notes if we were on the ground." The third year training facility had a helpful row of seats elevated above the grounds of the building. It was mainly used for observing battles while staying safe. Anyone was allowed to sit in them so long as the building was open, and the boys took that opportunity for the day.

"Sure, I think that could be cool." Sero offers, and with that it was decided. The boys head down the thin spiral stairs and collect at the edge of the facility. Cementos was currently overseeing the training, and he greeted the boys as they caught up to him. Izuku, getting the most out of this while the others faffed about, took out his notebook and began to observe the students. He watched a boy with long, thin antenna. From the looks of the people around him, and their seizing and yelping, he had to be able to produce harmful rays from the antenna.

"Are you watching Yuto?" Cementos asks as he peers down to Izuku's notes. "The boy with the antenna?"

"Yeah!" Izuku looks back up. "What's his quirk?"

"He can send out waves from the tips of his antenna that cause the people in the radius to seize up. It's remarkably powerful in close combat, however his waves only scale a few meters before loosing intensity. Therefore, Yuto needs to get close before proving useful, and that can be quite a challenge." Cementos offers, and watches Izuku scribble down notes with remarkable speed.

"I wonder how he gets around the close range issue." He mumbled to himself, much to the distain of Katsuki, who can't stand the lowly murmuring beside him.

"Why don't you ask him? Yuto!" Cementos calls. "Talk to these students a moment?"

The boy, with pale skin and dark ruffled hair, looks over at his calling and hurries down from the ledge he was on. He, Yuto, arrives shortly after, breathless and sweaty. "What's," He heaves. "Up?"

"Midoriya had a few questions about your quirk." Cementos explains.

"You don't say," Yuto raises his brow. "Hey, I know you from the sports festival! That crazy kid who broke, like, a hundred bones."

"Sure, that's me - but I was curious about the close range aspect of your quirk." Izuku stars, raising his notebook to his chest. "Do you find it difficult to get in close, or are you quite good at that?"

"Well," Yuto shrugs. "I had to have a lot of practice in stealth, so instead of fighting my way into close combat I sneak up on them! It's kinda tricky, really, but I'm getting the hang of it." He explains, beginning to feel proud of himself.

"That's amazing." Izuku drifts off, lost in his notes and workings. He's so preoccupied with writing that he doesn't notice the loud trail of insults Katuski begins to spit, or the alarmed calling of a girls name from both Yuto and Cementos, or the bizarre 'the fuck?' from Katuski before Izuku is bashed into and trampled by a girl.

It's a light hit, but he's tumbled to the floor alongside the girl and Yuto. Izuku sits up, brushing dirt out of his hair, and rubbing his shut eyes.

"Manami! What were you trying to do?" Cementos scolds, but he doesn't sound particularly shocked. Perhaps 'Manami' is used to cataclysmic encounters.

"Sorry! Sorry!" She begins, her voice light and delicate. She's laughing. "I just wanted to get a hit on Yuto while he wasn't paying attention. I didn't mean to hit the kid." She sighs, and Izuku begins to open his eyes.

"Damn nerd, you're just always in the crossfire, aren't you?" Katsuki groans, and Izuku looks up to him as he finally pries his eyes open.

Katsuki looks bored, perhaps a little fed up, and he's crossing his arms over his chest like an impatient mother waiting for her kid to stop crying. He frowns at Izuku, and then jolts when he truly looks at him. "Who the fuck are you looking at like that, because it's sure as hell not me." Katsuki flinches.

"Sorry, Kacchan!" Izuku mutters, shaking his head to snap out of his gaze. "Will you help me up?" He asks, putting a hand out.

"Get up yourself."

"I'll help you!" Denki grins, pulling Izuku up. Not before taking a photo of him, dirty on the floor.

"I'm sorry, kid!" The girl, Manami, puts a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "Are you alright? I didn't... touch you, did I?"

"Didn't touch me?" Izuku asks, a little thrown off by the strange nature of the question. Judging by her paling face, this was very important to her. Maybe she was a germaphobe. "No, no don't worry. I think it was just Yuto that bashed into me." Izuku says, trying to be reassuring.

"Oh," She sighs, "That's good. Well, I'll try and refrain from jumping around like that. Huh, Cementos?" She grins.

"If you could, Manami."

Sero whips his phone out from his pocket and has a scan for the time. He groans dramatically. "We should probably get going," He says, and jumps as Denki takes a flash of his face. "We, uh, have training now."

"Really?" Denki whines. "I definitely won't be able to bring my camera, will I?" Their voices fade as walk out of the facility. Izuku not forgetting to wave his upperclassmen goodbye.

"Finally you're doing us a favour." Katsuki complains, unreasonably hostile toward his friend.

"Chill, you're loving my photos." Denki teases, before raising an eye to Izuku. "Hey, Midoriya, you alright?"

Izuku rubs his temple wearily and pulls a sour face. "I'm okay, I think I'm just getting a headache." He says, a uneasy feeling bubbling in his stomach. That girl left him feeling awfully unsure about himself. 

"Alright, but don't hesitate to call 'sick' if you're feeling worse. We all know how much you love to push yourself." Denki chides, pulling a laugh out of Izuku.

"Okay, sure thing."

Training wasn't so grilling under the supervision of Present Mic, but there was still a lengthy agenda intended to follow. Mic held up a large sheet of paper, pushing up his yellow glasses and scanning the sheet. "So, Sho- Eraser want's us to practice long distance combat. I think he means finding solutions to problems from a distance. I guess I can team you up and place you at opposite ends of the arena?" Mic mutters, quieter than usual and half to himself.

There's a long pause before he raises himself up to his usual standard. "All right! Partner up and we'll go from there!" He yells, sending shudders down spines of the students.

It doesn't take long for the class to team up, comfortably sorting themselves into the people they work best with. Mic watches the pairs begin to form, and section's the duo's into two teams. It's an even and seemingly fair split - the best outcome for a teacher who doesn't know the students abilities as well as Aizawa would.

"Okay!" He sings. "Team A, who's leader I'm appointing to be Midoriya, see yourselves to that corner of the arena!" Mic points to a distant area. "And Team B, who's leader can be Bakugo, over there! But - before you go, both leaders take a flag and place it in your corner. First team to make it back to me with their enemies flag wins! Think smart and hard! I'll shout when it's time to start, so hurry! Run!" Mic throws out a red flag and a blue flag with an encouraging thumbs-up and toothy grin. Both teams hastily make way to their area of the area, nervous to not place their flag down before Mic decided to yell.

"Midoriya," Iida calls, midway through running. "Trust me with the flag and I'll run it over quickly. Tsu, accompany me and help me to protect the flag." He decides, picking out the person he believes to be able to somewhat match his pace. Even though Aoyama was his pair.

"Sounds good!" Izuku says, throwing the blue flag to Iida before watching him and Asui speed off. 

It was a far distance to run, therefore why Mic gave the students ten minutes to make it to their corner, set up the flag, and strategize. Plans required an understanding of what the other team would do, and that's why Izuku decided combat was more important than defence. "Knowing Kacchan," He began, hand finding itself on his chin as it usually did when he planned, "He'll run off from the group and go straight to attacking us, thinking he'll be able to capture the flag on his own. Then, Kirishima will follow him, trying to convince him to stop. And Kaminari will follow, also, but for that I'm not sure why."

The group nods, finding comedy in the truth of it. "Therefore, we're pretty soon going to be up against explosions and electricity. That's why we need to begin combat quickly and stop them before they get to close. Todoroki," Izuku prompts, and Shoto looks up. "I say you start toward their corner on your own and try to find them before they get to us. You're the best at large scale attacks and probably have the highest chance at stopping them."

Shoto nods, unable to find faults in the plan. "Should I bee-line, or do you think they'll take an opposing route?"

"Kacchan will want to make it quick, I think you should head straight on. Or, listen for explosions."

"Okay," Shoto looks out to the direction they came. "I'll try my best." He says before he heads out with pace and leaves the others to plan.

"What next, Deku?" Ochako, Izuku's original partner, prompts.

"Hm, I think it would be useful for you, Yaoyorozu, to work on making barriers and defences for the flag. It's a useful commodity the other team don't have." Izuku strategizes, and Momo begun quickly creating planks of wood to border up the flag. "And then-" Izuku stops short, suddenly hit with a wave of faintness. He felt his skin prickle in the way it would when you begin to go lightheaded.

"Deku?" Ochako flinches, "Are you okay? You're going kind of pale." 

"I must say," Iida comments, "You haven't been looking yourself. Do you think you might be getting sick?"

"No," Izuku gulps, a guilty feeling welling in his turned stomach as he thinks over what Denki told him. To not lie. "I think I'm just a little tired because I was training late last night, but I'm not sick."

There was an unsteady silence for a moment, before Izuku turns to himself again. "Anyway, I've been thinking that Hagakare would be the best to actually steal the flag as they won't see you coming, but you alone would be at risk of caught and we don't know what defences they've put up. So maybe Tokoyami would be a good match for accompanying you, as Dark Shadow is difficult to fight while also on defence."

"I believe that's a good start, but those two alone would struggle." Iida adds, "Perhaps Uraraka and I would be more useful on the enemy's side, as I'm no good at defence, and Uraraka could prove useful in stealth and exit operations."

"Good point," Izuku notes. "It could work well if you were able to quickly float the flag and it's holder out of the crossfire. I think you two should go."

"On it, leader." Iida states, finding himself immersed in his role as he usually was.

"I'll make you proud, Deku!" Ochako grins with a mock-salute. She giggles as she runs off with Iida, floating her way over the buildings. Hagakure and Tokoyami, as commanded, follow along with them in an attempt to steal the flag. All that's left is Izuku, Asui, Momo, Aoyama, and Sato - all much better suited to close combat.

"Should we stay here and defend the flag?" Momo asks Izuku, who has been crowned the leader by teammates, and not only Mic.

"I think that's the best course of action. Todoroki might not be able to hold off Kacchan and the others, and so we should stay if we don't know what's going to happen."

"And are you sure you're alright? I mean this kindly, but, you do look a little unwell." Momo squints as she places her last wooden defence.

Izuku focuses in on himself, truly searching for an answer to the question. Around Iida and Ochako, he felt the urge to lie knowing how they would worry for him, and maybe falter on their mission. Honestly, he felt a little queasy. "I think I might be coming down with something, but I'm okay for now. I'll try and visit recovery girl after class."

"Don't push yourself, Midoriya." Asui prompts after searching around the area for the other team.

Izuku laughs, "Don't worry, Tsu."

Katsuki was brash and closed-minded, his only saving grace the raw power he possessed. Heading, alone and full speed, into the enemies territory would be a foolish idea to anyone, but Katsuki had the skill to compensate for it. At least he, when up against the opponent who most definitely would come for him, could save himself.

No one was shocked when Shoto found them.

Katsuki's loud and obnoxious explosions made him easy to find, and Shoto followed their sound until he enountered the three. Izuku was mostly right, in that Katsuki had run off, and Kirishima had attempted to stop him. But Denki was a no-show (possibly because Kyoka, his teammate, would never allow him to make a dumb decision like that)

"Come to fight me you icy-hot bastard? I wanna' see you try." Katsuki calls, voice reverberating around the faux-city.

Shoto didn't speak, partically because the answer to the question was obvious, and he didn't want to raise his voice. He sent forward a large wall of ice, stopping with intense precision before he reached Kirishima, who he knew would struggle to escape from it. For Katuski, he had no regard of precison. 

A large explosion threw Katsuki upwards and out of the crossfire, bursting a huge hole in Shoto's ice. He laughs maniacally from atop a building, fingers curling around the plug in his gauntlet. "Taste this, nerd!" He shouted before releasing and plummeting an explosion in Shoto's way. Rapidly, he counteracts with his own burst of flames, which redirects the fire upward.

Katsuki yells something incoherent with a rage directed at the fail of his plan. Kirishima finds his way up to join him, and tries to cool him off.

There's an orange and green glove pointed at Shoto, who could care less for the intimidating scowl Katsuki sports on his face. "Take this!" He hears, but makes no attempt to move. Surprisingly, but not upsettingly, the explosion Katsuki produces is larger than he anticipated, but the technical skill of his ice blocks and protects him from the impact. "You idiot!" Is faintly called from the otherside of the ice.

Before long, a precise and rounded hole cracks through the ice - a window into the sight of Katuski and Kirishima. Shoto can see the two through the cavity and waits for Katsuki to move again. 

Suddenly, a familiar face joins Shoto on the space he made for himself atop an opposing building. It's Asui, who has perched onto the roof beside him. "Todoroki, you need to go back to the flag. Yaoyorozu wants you to use your ice to cool Midoriya down. He's got a pretty bad fever."

"Really?" Shoto questions, taking a look back at Katsuki. "What about Bakugo?"

"Sato is on his way to try and hold them off. He's a good match for Kirishima, and able to withstand Bakugo's blasts better than the rest of our team. I'll stick around to help him, too."

"If you say so." Shoto decides, and heads back the way the flag is.

"Are you kidding me? Where is that bastard off to?" Katsuki yells, one foot forward in his direction before Asui wraps him in her frog-akin tongue, throwing him over the edge of the building. "Slimy bitch!" He shouts, voice trailing as he plumets.

Izuku is dazed with his head on Momo's lap as she crafts ice-packs to keep him cool. If it were any other boy, she'd probably feel a little squeamish with their heads resting on her legs, but Izuku wouldn't think perversely of a paper doll, and she's willing to let her maternal instincts take over for him. Plus, he's half unconscious.

Shoto lands on rooftop with agile ease. He wanders over to them, the only two left, with bouts of curiosity. "Is he okay?" He asks calmly.

"He said he was feeling unwell a little while after you left, and soon after he dropped to the floor with a temperature. I think he's really sick." Momo says, pulling Shoto down once he's in reach and silently instructing him to cool his head. "I told Aoyama to inform Mic, but all we can do is wait."

The soft air of Shoto's ice, produced on the lowest intensity he can perform, floats over Izuku's reddening forehead. Besides the crystalline sound of his quirk, the only sound if the soft and uneasy breathing from Izuku's parted lips.

"He sounds sick." Shoto adds rather obnoxiously.

"Well, he is." Momo says bluntly.

They wait impatiently for Mic, or some kind of assistance, to join them. It's a wonder when the loud and grading call of Mic is heard over the buildings.

"Okay! Time's up! Head back to the starting point!" He shouts hurriedly, heard from every inch of the facility, and it's not particularly long after that when he shows up, Aoyama close behind him.

Shoto stops cooling him when Mic arrives, and much to their disappointment, it didn't do much to help him. "What the hell happened?" Mic groans, pulling his cheeks in stress. "Shota's gonna kill me if Midoriya collapses or something." He mutters as he kneels down.

"Midoriya said he was feeling unwell, and now he's coming down with a fever." Momo explained as Mic studied the sleeping student. Izuku's breaths came slowly and difficultly, like his nose was blocked or throat was sore.

"Seriously? This kid never catches a break. I guess we'll have to carry him down to recovery girl, she'll know what to do with him." Mic, slightly unhelpfully, decides.

"I can craft a stretcher to make it easier?" Momo offers.

"Don't worry," Shoto interrupts, "I don't mind carrying him. It would probably be easier, anyway."

There's a general agreement, and Izuku is lifted onto Shoto's back. It takes them a while to navigate their way back to the entrance of the facility, but Mic is glad to see all of the students made it there in one piece, even if they look impatient.

"Who'd have known Deku is the reason for this. 'Asshole stole my win. The fuck is wrong with him, he didn't do anything." Katsuki, characteristically, complains.

Mic looks over to Katsuki as he frantically tries to call someone. "Uh, Midoriya is sick. I guess you can all just- Shota! Hey, you're never gonna guess what!" He gulps. "Wanna come to Ground Beta? Yeah, I know you're sick... No, I get that..." There's a long pause. "Do you know what, it is actually Midoriya's fault."

There's a resounding scoff from Katsuki.

"Please, please. Oh! And bring Recovery Girl on your way... Yeah! Sure, I owe you. Be quick!" The phone bleeps and Mic pockets his phone. "Didn't know who else to call."

"Do you always call Aizawa when you don't know what to do?" Mina asks with a grin.

"Pretty much."

It's safe to say Aizawa is temperamental when he arrives at the training grounds. The other students were prompted to leave, considering there wouldn't be much more to the lesson. But some stayed. Like Momo who crafted items to aid Izuku, such as a pillow for his head. And Shoto who cooled Izuku as before, and also to help carry him out. And Denki, Sero, and Katsuki, who were there when Izuku started feeling sick. Mic encouraged them to wait around, as Recovery Girl would likely have questions for them.

"Okay, make it quick. What the hell happened?" Aizawa groaned, battling his own illness. People weren't rushed over when he fell sick. Well, besides Mic, not called for but still insistent that Aizawa eat the soup Mic made for him the night before.

"I think he's got a fever, but he's unconscious and getting worse. Shortness of breath, hot and pale skin. Occasionally he wakes up to cough, but he hasn't opened his eyes yet." Momo explains, as quickly as she can for Aizawa.

"Oh dear," Recovery Girl says, "This boy won't leave my care until the day he graduates."

"So, how long has be been sick?" Aizawa asks.

"Since, like, twelve," Denki says, unfocused and watching birds swirl above him.

"How do you know that?"

"Well," Denki snaps out of it and looks over to Aizawa. "We were watching the third years around that time, and after he got knocked over he was looking a little unwell. I don't know, you'll probably have to ask him when he wakes up."

"Knocked over?" Recovery Girl questions.

"Some girl bashed into him while he was asking this guy some nerdy questions. He was fine, though, they just tumbled down. Hey!" He lightens up. "I have a picture!" Denki fiddles around his coat pockets for his camera. He takes time to flick through the pictures until the one of Izuku, flattened on the floor, pops up. "Take a look." He says, more proud of his photography than keen on helping Izuku.

No one seems to care for his image, not making any correlation to the incident and his fever. Recovery Girl almost verbalises her indifference before Aizawa speaks.

"Hold on," he gulps. "That pink haired girl - is she the one who bashed into Midoriya?" Aizawa askes, stopping to clear his ill-affected throat.

"Yeah." Denki says. "She was like, super spooked. Midoriya thought she was a germaphobe." Denki laughs a little, but falters when he sees Aizawa's paling face.

"Fuck." He says bluntly, and most of the students recoil at the unusual profanity from their homeroom teachers mouth. "That's... great. That's- yeah. Amazing." He lists dully, sarcastically.

"What's up?" Sero asks, speaking on behalf of the students remaining.

"Who did Midoriya first speak to when he got up?" Aizawa asked impatiently.

"Huh, I don't know." Sero shrugs.

"Well, think, idiot." Aizawa groans. Recovery Girl chooses to move past his hostile attitude to his students on the basis that Aizawa is sick. Another time she will scold him for being so rude.

"Oh!" Denki interrupts, itching to prove himself useful. "It was Bakugo. He said something about how Midoriya was stupid for being in the way, and so Midoriya said sorry to him or something."

There's a long, tense, and nervous silence. Aizawa doesn't react. He sighs, longer and heavier than usual. "Todoroki, help Recovery Girl take Midoriya to medical. And..." Aizawa hesitates. "Bakugo. Go with them."

"Huh? I don't want to." Katsuki says hurriedly.

"Do as I say." Aizawa says, hair beginning to float above his shoulders as his eyes start to glow.

"Jeez, fine." Katsuki groans, in-admittedly scared of Aizawa.

The four of them, followed closely by Momo, Denki, and Sero, hurry off to aid Izuku. Left behind are Mic and Aizawa, both tense for different reasons.

"I can't believe that child-"

"I'm so sorry!" Mic yells, interrupting Aizawa suddenly. "You should definitely be home sleeping and I called you. But I panicked! You're so much calmer than me and I was totally freaking when I saw him!"

Aizawa furrows his brow as Mic continues to list of thousands of loud justifications to why he called him. Partially because the noise is hurting his head, but mostly out of confusion. "Don't stress, you did the right thing." He offers.

"Ya think?"

"I suppose."

"Woohoo!" He yells, loud enough for the students to hear from their increasing distance. "Come on, you need to go home. I can see you sweating and it's totes-gross."

Aizawa flinches at the strange term but, like he always does, follows Mic regardless.

Chapter Text

It's not long before Izuku is tucked into a medical room bed, icepack blanched over his face and blanket folded under his arms. He was, which much struggle, changed out of his hero costume. And now, with messy, sweaty hair and rosy cheeks, Izuku slept soundly. Throughout the journey and preparation, he didn't wake once. His soft breaths escaped his parted lips, that being the only major sign he was still with them.

Katsuki, under firm instruction of Recovery Girl, and then backed up by All Might (who had no idea what happened, and only came to see if his successor was okay) was waiting outside of the medical office. He only chose to wait outside because the smell of the office reminded him of the first time he broke a bone. And, never to be shared with anyone, it made him queasy.

For the first time in his life, he was excited to see Aizawa trekking down the hall. He had been, for over an hour, aching for some kind of answer to why he was chained here. Katsuki might be an asshole, but he didn't shout at old women. So when Recovery Girl didn't budge, he huffed and sat outside, arms crossed like a petulant child.

"Good, Bakugo, you stayed. I hoped Recovery Girl understood how important it was that you did. I guess I got my point across." Aizawa says, opening the door ajar to peer in at Izuku. However, the condition of his student wasn't at the top of his list, so he closes the door and turns back to Katsuki.

"You can't blame me for his fever." Katsuki starts immediately. "If anything, blame yourself! You probably gave him your lame sickness!"

Aizawa shakes his head. "I'm not blaming you, but you are affiliated and therefore I must speak with you." He says calmly, taking a seat near him.

"Look, just because most bad thing's happen to Deku because of me, doesn't mean they all do." Katsuki huffs, as if that's any rational justification.

"Well..." Aizawa starts, momentarily speechless. "It's not that. It's Midoriya's fault you're involved - or, more broadly, Manami's fault entirely." Aizawa tries to explain, but his vagueness only angers Katsuki.

"Spit it out! I have your damn work to do, so if you want me to turn it in you better hurry it up." Katsuki spits, fashionably tempermental.

"I understand your haste, Bakugo, but this is something serious. I need you to relax in order for you to take it in. So, take a minute, and I'll tell you properly." Aizawa, though in theory patiently, but practically argumentatively, tells Katsuki.

Before Katsuki can offer up another bashful insult, Aizawa shoots him a stern stare. Katsuki swallows his retort and gives in. "Fine, tell me your dumb story."

"Right." He starts, and almost chokes on the words he intends to tell. Breaking news like this to anyone else would be easy. It's hard to think of other students who would care about something like this. But, just his luck, he's having to speak to Katsuki, the most irritable person alive. "Well, what Midoriya is experiencing is no ordinary fever. It's a quirk induced fever. One, that, you're unfortunately affected by."

"How?" Katsuki asks quickly, struggling to conceal his impatience.

"Well, when Manami bashed into Midoriya, she had the intention of hitting Yuto with her quirk. Instead, she landed a hit on Midoriya--"

"What's that got to do with me?"

"If you'd let me finish - her quirk is a special one. When she touches someone, they're entranced, and if they find themselves further than a metre from her, they grow to experience feverish side affects. Further the distance, stronger the symptoms." Aizawa explains with growing trepidation. "However, the quirk is activated through 'call and response.' If she lands a hit and prompts them to speak to her, her quirk works in her favour. The issue? Midoriya spoke to... you."

Katsuki didn't reply for a while. Aizawa begins to think the horror was encompassing his body, but perhaps he wasn't clear enough, and Katsuki frowns. "I don't care how some extra's quirk works, what's that nerd's illness got to do with me?"

"Bakugo - when Midoriya got up, he first spoke to you. Call and response? Feverish symptoms? Can't you puzzle this together?" Aizawa states impatiently.

"So," Katsuki groans, laying down the groundwork for himself. "This pinky girl touches someone, gets 'em to talk, and her quirk works." He continues once Aizawa nods. "But, Deku spoke to me. So, what you can't spit out of your mouth is that the nerd is having this fever because he's away from.. me." He states, wonderfully calm.

"In essence."

"Well what are you waiting for? Call the freak over and get her to fix it! You don't have to look all pale about it." Katsuki retorts, usual anger seeping back to him. He's almost fuming when Aizawa doesn't say anything. "Hello? Are you deaf?"

"There's a problem." Aizawa says bluntly, severity not in his tone, but the devoid look in his eye. "Manami, she, left for a vacation in Europe, last night. For... two weeks." Aizawa almost feels the words weighing his soul down as he says them. If he had to break the news to any other student, they'd have no trouble seeing the positive or empathetic side to things. But Katsuki, the king of anger and rage, slowly takes in the words like a pot of water coming to boil.

"So, you're telling me, I have to keep that nerd within a metre radius... for two fucking weeks?" There's a short, bated pause. Calm before the storm, more commonly described. "Are you out of your fucking mind? I'd rather swallow a brick than endure something so horrific. You have to be kidding. Seriously, this isn't funny." Katsuki yells, far too loud for the hallway.

"I'd love for this to be a time for jokes, Bakugo, but I'm afraid it's all true."

"Two damn weeks? Do you even realise how awful that is."

"It doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"There is nothing that could turn this into a positive! This is awful. Worse than war. Worse than famine, and orphans, and disease." Aizawa flinches as Katsuki, dramatically, turns his tone more severe. "I think I'm going to kill myself. Tell that bitch to get a plane back, it's her damn fault!"

"Bakugo, you need to stop swearing." Aizawa chides, but ultimately doesn't push too hard. He'd probably swear too if he were Katsuki. "Look, this isn't as awful as you're making it out. It's not like you'll be attached at the hip. It's a metre. You sit a metre apart in class."

"It's a metre too damn close!"

"Might I remind you the seating plan was optional."

"No you may not!" Katsuki yells, rage overtaking his sense of reason. There's a silence that falls over the two. Aizawa can only hear the staggered breath from Katsuki's furious nostrils, while Katsuki listen's to the angry thoughts plaguing his head.

The door just behind Aizawa slides open, and Recovery Girl peers out. "Midoriya is waking up. Perhaps Katsuki being outside is cheering him up." She smiles, aware of the flame she's fanning in Katsuki's soul.

Aizawa stands and coughs a little, still ultimately unwell. He pulls Katsuki up by his sleeve, knowing a simple question wouldn't be enough to raise him. They, one willing and one captive, stagger into the room where Izuku is brushing the hair from his head as he sits up. He looks over to the two with sleepy eyes, trying to make out who they could be. There's an unnatural spring as he jolts up, smile playing on his lips. "Kacchan, you came to visit?"

Katsuki, too angry to speak or simply protesting, shuts his mouth and pulls out of Aizawa's firm clasp. 

"How are you feeling, Midoriya?" Aizawa asks, wandering over to the edge of the bed.

"Oh, I don't know. I never really get sick, so I'm pretty unused to this. Hey," Izuku says once he wakes up fully. "where is Kacchan going?"

Almost immediately, Aizawa wraps his scarf around the defiant boy's body, tugging him over to his side. Katsuki, still impossibly silent, squirms in the clasps of the rope.

"Bakugo wanted to see if you were alright." Aizawa says coldly.

"Really? Then why is he trying to escape." Izuku cocks his head.

"I'm not sure, because I did tell him that, due to his unusual kindness, he didn't have to do this weeks homework." Aizawa says firmly, words fighting their way through his barred teeth. The scarf slowly tightened.

Izuku smiles on behalf of Katsuki. "Seriously? That's super nice."

"Get your stupid rope off me or I'll blow the room up." Katsuki finally folds, spitting out words like bullets. The scarf slowly falls off his body and he shudders out of it's grip.

There's an awkward air that encompasses the room soon after. Recovery Girl wordlessly fills out form's on Izuku's behalf, she knew all of his credentials from him visiting so often, and her handwriting was neater than his. She almost laughs at the sticky situation these two have found themselves in, again. Time after time, it was always Deku and Kacchan.

"Anyway, have you anything to say, Bakugo?" Aizawa says to fill the silent room. His words sounded more like threats than encouragements.

"Uh," Katsuki murmurs, thinking about the grip of the scarf and the week free of homework, and Aizawa's scary glare. "Are you... sick?"

Aizawa would punch the incompetence out of him if no one were watching.

"Well, yeah, Kacchan. That's why I'm here." Izuku frowns.

"Right."

"Well," Aizawa starts before the silence grows again. "I've asked All Might to pay you a second visit, so you two can wait here until then."

"Two?" Katsuki says through his teeth.

"Two. See you in class." Aizawa leaves before he can suffer Katsuki any longer. Their bickering just had to be Recovery Girls problem.

Going from training, to the journey to medical, to waiting on Aizawa, and now All Might, the sun had started to set. The pinkish glow the sun made just before it traded places with the moon swarmed the medical room. It still smelt like childhood tears and Katsuki's broken bones, but the room was warm and calm.

Izuku occupied himself with homework that All Might had brought for him on his first visit. It was a selfish thing to bring, the work you needed your student to do, but he couldn't really think of much else Izuku would want to occupy himself with. Turns out, there isn't much.

Then pencil scrawling along the paper coaxed Katsuki into an irritable trance. All he could think about was the paced lines and page turning. It's all he wanted to think about, because the more he thought about Izuku, the more ill he felt.

"Hey, Kacchan, isn't it getting a little late for you?" Izuku asks, not looking up from his math problems.

"No." Katsuki answers, and that was that. It took a few more moments for Izuku to speak again. He finishes his current problem and sets his book down.

"Why are you here?" He asks, bluntly, because that's how Katsuki likes his questions asked.

Katsuki, surprisingly, looks away. "Dunno." He says, because he doesn't want to say Aizawa is verbally forcing me, because if I leave, you'll fall unconscious again.

"Okay." Izuku shrugs, like that's any kind of an answer.

It's not long after that before All Might arrives. He slides open the door gently. "Hello! I am here, with really terrible news." He says with a sour face, not much like his usual self.

Izuku jumps. "Terrible news? What is it?" He notes the way Katsuki huffs and stares at the floor. Like he knows something. "What is it, Kacchan? I wondered why you would sit with me so long. Is it because I'm dying?"

All Might laughs, "Not dying, Midoriya, no. But Bakugo might be." 

"Shut your trap! This isn't funny." Katsuki spits, the loudest he's been since Aizawa left. In fact, he hasn't said much at all since Aizawa left.

"You're dying? Why?" Izuku asks with no sense of urgency. Like he's carrying on a metaphor. All Might wouldn't laugh if he were serious.

"Because I'm going to kill myself, that's why."

"Bakugo," All Might chides, but he smiles nonetheless. Could it be that he found this situation laughable?

"It's true. Tell him what you've got to tell him and watch him kill himself, too." Katsuki says flatly.

"Kacchan! What's going on?" Izuku tenses, eyes darting back and fourth between the moody student in the chair beside him, and the giggling teacher in the chair opposite him.

"Look, Midoriya," All Might begins, regaining seriousness. "Your fever is what we would call a 'quirk induced fever.' Basically, a quirk is making you sick."

"My quirk?" Izuku shudders, thinking about all the horrors that would bring to him.

"Not your quirk, no, another students. Do you remember Manami from class 3-C?" All Might asks.

Izuku mumbled to himself, repeating the name over and over again. "Oh - the girl who bumped into me?"

Katsuki feels himself tensing and shifting while he waits for All Might to tell him straight. Like peeling open a flower bud that holds a bee. Every moment Izuku acts fine and every moment All Might doesn't spit it out makes him more and more uncomfortable.

"Yes, that's the one." All Might gulps before he continues. "Well, I haven't the strength to make this simple, so I'll tell you straight up. The girl hit you with her quirk by accident when she bashed into you. Usually, that wouldn't be a big deal, but she's on vacation in Europe for two weeks, and so you're going to have to deal with the side effects of the quirk until she's back to fix it."

Izuku furrows his brow, unsurprisingly more concerned with the working of her quirk than his own illness. "So, I'll be sick like this until she's back? How does she use a quirk like that in combat, because the affects of the quirk took some time to-"

"Shut up!" Katsuki yells, pulling at his hair. "Are you insane? Who gives a fuck about her damn quirk, all you gotta know is that it's a sentence worse than hell."

Izuku, after getting over the initial surprise of Katsuki's loud voice, smiles. "I don't mind being sick for a while, I wouldn't call it hell."

"Seriously?" Katsuki raises his brow. "Great. Then you don't have to tell him a thing." Katsuki decides, turning to All Might.

"It's not just a sickness, Midoriya." He counteracts. "It's an intense fever that could, under the yet-to-be-specified conditions, land you up with some serious physical damage."

"Really? Some quirk." Izuku says, ever calm. "What are the 'conditions' then?"

As All Might opens his mouth, Katsuki interjects. "Look, you heard the nerd - he's totally fine with a little sickness. He's been through worse than a fever. Let the idiot have his free will and don't say a damn word."

"Uh," Izuku squints. "Thanks, Kacchan, but I do want to know."

Katsuki only lets out a furious scoff.

"Well, the conditions of the quirk, and where it becomes useful for Manami, is that the further the distance from her the worse the fever becomes. Say, if she were in Europe, you would probably end up just dying."

Izuku, on little information, jumps out of his skin. "So I am going to die?" He squeals.

"No," All Might lets out a breathy laugh. "The affects of the quirk aren't tied to Manami like they usually are. You see, for the quirk to work, you need to speak to her directly after physical contact. Kinda like Shinso who you went up against in the Sports Festival. However, unlike Shinso, the affects of the quirk will tie to anyone you speak to."

"So," Izuku begins to clarify. "If Manami touches me, and then I speak to someone, I'll be sick if I don't stick around them?"

"You got it!" All Might says, focusing more on Izuku's quick thinking, rather than the growing paleness of his face.

There's a long, peculiar hesitance from Izuku. "Please tell me Kacchan really was just worried about me..." He says nervously. Katsuki shuts his eyes in a childish attempt to disappear.

"Now," All Might mutters meekly. "that was the terrible news."

Izuku is let out of care a day later, considering the fact his ailment is a result of distance rather than actual illness. But regardless of being let out, he was still sick. Katsuki wanted nothing to do with him, and Izuku was going to have to find a way around that if he were to suffer these next two weeks.

Miraculously, on the forefront of his mind was dissecting the workings of the quirk. Izuku scribbled in his beaten notebook symptoms like a doctor would. He wrote how it felt to be let out of the medical room, all headaches and fever and off-balance. Then, as quietly as he could, he wrote how marvellously better he felt simply sitting behind Katsuki in class. There was around a metre distance between them, and Izuku couldn't believe how his symptoms were practically gone.

However, as the class was dismissed and Katsuki, with speed akin to Iida, dashed from the room, he was sorrowful to note how quickly his ailment came back. He choked on air the moment Katsuki left his side, and alerted Iida.

"Midoriya, might I suggest that if you are still unwell, you rest in the dormitories instead?" Iida offers.

"I don't know," Izuku shrugs complacently. It would be a pain trying to explain his real situation. "I don't really feel that bad, actually."

"It's not like you to lie, Midoriya." Iida says factually, without even a question to if Izuku was lying.

Izuku only laughs. "Well, you got me. But I think I'll struggle if I miss out on work."

Iida, ever caring and pedantic about these things, shakes a disapproving head. "All right, but I must say, I think it's a foolish idea."

"Thanks, Iida."

When lunch rolled around, Izuku urgently sought out Katsuki. He was running a temperature, and occasionally his vision spotted. In order to expand the knowledge he had of Manami's quirk, the more practical study he needed to put in. The less he found himself tripping over his own shoes and wobbling about when still, the closer he had to be to Katsuki. In the cafeteria, he could think clearly. He had to be near.

It didn’t take long for the loud laugh of Denki Kaminari to give away his hiding spot. There were a few flashes and cries from a table in the cafeteria, and Izuku caught sight of the blonde he had been searching for. One last trip and wobble, and he marches right up to the table. Denki was, as you'd imagine, torturing the table attendants with his photography.

"Hey, Midoriya! Got any lunch? You can take a seat." Denki called warmly. Izuku found comfort in the fact his classmates were so welcoming - never had someone said something like that to him in Junior School.

"Oh, no thanks, Kaminari. I actually just need to speak to Kacchan quickly." Izuku said, trying to stay as ordinary as he could be, but he watched the way Katsuki unusually stiffed beside him.

"For real? Okay, but get him to stand up I'll take a picture for you two. Maybe I'll put it in the UA newsletter." Denki said mindlessly.

Katsuki didn't even bother reacting. That was never happening.

"Kacchan,” Izuku starts when Katsuki doesn't make any effort to stand, skin cooling as he came close enough to touch him. “can we talk a minute?”

Katsuki swallows his large mouthful of spicy noodles and then turns to look at Izuku. “No, actually.”

"Kacchan!” He begs. “I have a plan.” He says, vague and intriguing. Izuku doesn't miss the way the table's heads turn. Or the way Denki clutches his camera.

Katsuki stills. “A plan?”

"Yeah! Don’t make this harder than it is. I’m trying to help you.” Izuku offers, as if this is somehow worse for Katsuki than it is for him.

"Fine,” Katsuki gives in after a moment of consideration. “make it quick.”

The walk to the training hall is nothing short of blissful. For the first time since Katsuki left him in the medical room, Izuku feels like he can breath. His head doesn’t ache and his limbs aren’t sore. There’s not a constant threat of vomiting. Who knew Katsuki’s presence could ever be so relaxing?

"What’s your dumb plan, nerd.” Katsuki groans as they walk into the facility. It was empty, save for them, and that’s what Izuku needed for his million dollar idea.

"Okay, remember yesterday when I totally collapsed?” Izuku begins bluntly.

"Uh huh.”

"Well, we were like super far from each other. But the school building, and the dorms, aren’t as big as Ground Zero. What I think we should do is, you…” Izuku trails off as he places two hands on Katsuki’s shoulders, pushing him into the space just before the line of the arena. He doesn't ignore how soothing touching Katsuki is, like water in a desert. This quirk was truly fascinating. “Stay there. And I’ll slowly walk back until I think I’m gonna drop. That way, we’ll know how far is too far. Sound good?”

“Any distance is too far.” Katsuki groans, but he doesn’t make any effort to defy the plan. He stands, hands in pockets, waiting for Izuku to walk.

"Okay, let’s see.” Izuku mutters to himself as he steps, back to Katsuki, further and further away from him. He’s about three metres before he’s hit with a wave of nausea. “Oh, wow..” he says, shocked at the suddenness, and takes a breath in. “Okay.” He continually notes his findings as he walks, save him forgetting them.

One, two, three more metres and he feels a wobble in his step. When he stops to take it in, he’s not incapacitated yet. And so Izuku walks in this way for a while, growing Katsuki to impatience. “Get over yourself and walk faster! I don’t have the time for this!”

Izuku rolls his eyes at his safe distance and mumbles something negative about him. He picks up his pace, regardless, and stops at around 25 metres. His forehead is noticeably warmer and he feels lightheaded. For the first time, he feels like he'll struggle to go on.

Despite this, Izuku carries on, legs moving out of will over want. There's a bout of illness surging in his stomach, a threat that he'll throw up, and he puts a hand to his mouth to avoid that. Once he reaches 40 metres, he's seriously worried about himself. He writes, however, in shaky font, that 40 metres is seriously bad, and turns back to look at Katsuki.

Katsuki is, however, mortified. "Keep going, asshole!" He yells. "That is way to close."

Izuku, unwilling but ever so slightly guilty, continues to scale the facility. Once he gets to 50 metres, he wobbles so bad he falls over. The impact of his nauseous body on the ground sends pain up his spine. His head aches so badly it could burst out of his soul. In these moments, he wants to kill Katsuki. It's selfish for him to make him go on. But Izuku stands, stance so unsteady he nearly falls again. Until, he does. Only his vision starts to spot and blue, and an unsettling ringing takes over his hearing. He feels the smack on the ground, his whole left side bashed into the dirt, but his body gives out after then.

50 metres and Izuku will faint.

Katsuki is unusually horrified when he sees Izuku drop to the floor. For a moment, he debates walking over, and then thinks over the story Aizawa would fabricate for him if anyone found out he had left Izuku unconscious in the Gym. Something sinister and incriminating. So he starts, slowly and then quickly, over to Izuku. He's as you would imagine, knocked out and in the dirt, and Katsuki rolls him onto his back with his shoe before kneeling down next to him. Izuku is flush, worryingly flush, and he looks similar to the way he did the day before in Ground Zero. If Katsuki wasn't completely enraged with this situation, he'd feel a little concerned.

"Uh, Deku." He prompts, poking his pink cheek. It's hot. "Can you get up?" Katsuki asks, but when Izuku doesn't stir, he's out of options. But there's a nervous curiosity within Katsuki to see how dramatic Izuku is really being.

With a reluctant hand, Katsuki pushes away the hair on Izuku's head, flattening his hand on his forehead. It's warm, really warm, and nothing short of concerning. Izuku's soft green hair spills over the top of Katsuki's hand, concealing it within Izuku's illness. There's no sound after Katsuki holds his breath, only the small, jagged noises of Izuku taking in air. Katsuki has never felt so calm in his life.

And then Izuku starts to stir, raising a hand to his head. Katsuki abandons his own touch rapidly before Izuku can truly realise what he was doing. There's some pained noises of waking up, and Izuku begins to open his eyes. "Get up." Katsuki says coldly, and Izuku starts to smile at the familiarity of it.

"Man," he groans, voice hoarse and rough. "That really hurt." Izuku sits himself up and dusts off what he can of his uniform. He finally looks over to Katsuki, who is sporting a signature scowl. "So, 50 metres?"

Katsuki huffs. "Great."

Chapter Text

After their disturbing discovery in the school gym, Izuku and Katsuki learnt to keep a safe distance from each other. 50 metres was the limit, and Katsuki would be set on keeping it that way until Manami returned. So, for the next few days, Izuku was kept at a distance. He was around, of course, on the table nearest to Katsuki at lunch, or the chair three feet away during assemblies. He never left Katsuki's sight in order to save him from passing out, but there was a reluctance to actually speak to him that wasn't there before. Izuku knew this whole situation was probably making Katsuki tense, and therefore he opted to suffer his persistent fever in favour of keeping the peace.

One morning, while Izuku trudged to school, 100 feet away from Katsuki, Aizawa found himself in step alongside him.

"Oh!" Izuku jumps as his teacher made himself visible. "You're early to class." He says lightheartedly.

"Well, I wanted to see how you were getting on. I can't imagine it's been easy for you." Aizawa comments, a stern squinted gaze pointed at the back of Katsuki's head. "You're not walking with Bakugo?"

Izuku can't conceal his cough, and lets out a wet and gurgled noise that only arouses complete concern for him. "Well, uh, we realised the fever isn't that bad from around a 30 metre distance, so there's no reason to be close, you know?"

"But," Aizawa stops walking just before they reach the 1A door, "you could be completely well if you stood beside him. Isn't that a better deal?"

Izuku, with a lack of better words, only sighs. "You know how he is."

Aizawa takes a minute to contemplate, but that the end of the day, he does know how Katsuki is. "Alright, but don't let him make you any worse."

Izuku grins. "I won't."

They, alongside the other piling students, walk into class and find their respected seats. Izuku favours this part of the day, as it's the closest he get's to be to Katsuki. The desk is the only factor to separate them, and Izuku is immediately relieved at the very presence of Katsuki. As Aizawa speaks, he begins to feel his headache reside. Something to note in his lengthy analysis, the headache is always the first to go.

As Aizawa explains the schedule for the day, Izuku finds himself lost to the birds outside. He spent a lot of time while in medical observing the scenery outside. It was nearing summer, and everything had a joyful air about it. Well, everything besides him. There was nothing positive about the situation he found himself in. If it had been anyone else, he might have been able to rule it out to mildly inconvenient, for other people are a lot more understanding than Katsuki. But Izuku had been lumped with Katsuki of all people, and that boy was set on making everything he did hell. 

Izuku could already see the way he tensed his shoulders, stiff and irritable. When something is bugging Katsuki, it'll ruin his whole day. He's been like that since they were kids, always incredibly sensitive. It never used to bother Izuku, but now it did. It surged guilt in his stomach alongside the nausea. Whatever small bonds between them he was holding onto are going to be lost and burnt by the time the two weeks are over. There's only so much Katsuki can handle. At least, that's what Izuku has come to know.

When Aizawa instructs the class to stand, Izuku is a little flustered. It's not like him to loose focus, but Aizawa can hardly blame him for not concentrating. There's a lot on his mind.

"What's happening?" Izuku whispers, leaning back to speak to Mineta. Either him or Katsuki, and he knows who'd rather answer him.

"We're going to Ground Beta. Don't know why though." Mineta mumbles back.

Lined up and suited in their hero costumes, the students wait for Aizawa to explain the lesson. He was discussing something with All Might, who had joined the lesson for the day, But Izuku couldn't shake the feeling they were talking about him. Not to mention the glances Aizawa continued to give him.

"Hey, Deku!" Ochako gleams. She waved high and excitedly. "If it's partnered work, do you wanna team up?" She grins.

"Oh, uh," Izuku stammers, still not used to having a female friend. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great!"

Aizawa clears his throat and the class begin to quiet. Under full attention, he begins to explain what is intended for the training session. "Today, I want you to practice your rescue abilities. After the licencing exam, it's come to my attention that some of you are better suited to rescue than others, but to be Hero's, you all need to be perfect." After the unsettling exposure, he continues. "I'll be sorting you into groups of two or three based on how you performed in the exam. For example, Bakugo, who failed completely, will make a good match for both Midoriya and Uraraka, who show a skill in rescue."

Katsuki scoffs, but doesn't object. To the naked eye, he might seem offended, but Izuku knows why he doesn't object. So does Aizawa. He's not allowed to.

Aizawa continues to pair and select people he thinks will work well together. Not only is this a good excuse to keep Katsuki and Izuku close, but it's an important way for people to learn and grow from the mistakes they made in the licensing exam. When the groups are decided, All Might explains the faux scenario. A villain has rampaged the city, trapping innocent civilians, and it's the Hero's job to save them all. They are instructed to split up, and return all the injured and lost to the starting point for examination.

Ochako has a skip in her step while she walks down the mock street. "Man, rescue feels so much better when we're not being watched for our every move. I'm not sure I really did so great under all that pressure."

"You passed, though. I guess that's what matters most." Izuku offers helpfully. He jumps when he hears a fake wailing. "Is that a victim? We should check it out."

Ochako springs to action, followed by a ready Izuku. His occasional sneezing had Ochako looking over her shoulder, pitiful grimace alerting her concern. There's a small boy trapped under some rubble when they find the source of the wailing, and Katsuki scoffs. "Anyone could get themselves out of that." He mutters.

"Kacchan." Izuku warns.

"Are you okay? Please, don't cry. We've come to help you!" Ochako soothes as she kneels before the scene. It's a little awkward to roleplay in this way, and Katsuki finds it completely below him. Ochako begins to float the stray pieces of building away from the actor, and casts them off to the side.

"Are you injured?" Izuku asks helpfully, trying his best to smile.

"I think I've broken my arm." The child, doing a splendid job at pretending, chokes out between further wailing.

"Oh." Izuku flinches before suddenly correcting his posture. "Don't worry! We'll get you to the medical bay and you'll be perfectly fine!"

Katsuki rubs his tired eyes. "Fucking hell." He groans. "This is so stupid."

"Bakugo!" Ochako whisper-yells. "Be nice." She says, with an impossibly stern face. Her pink cheeks and big eyes don't make her all that scary, though.

Katsuki rolls his eyes, a mean and sour face forming under his mask. "To who? That fucking actor? I'll be nice when someone actually-" He's cut short as Izuku elbows him in the rib.

"Pretend, asshole." Izuku remarks.

Katsuki looks away. Izuku can be so horrible. "Stupid idiot."

The three of them, with slightly uneven roles (in which Katsuki does nothing) bring the boy to the medical area. Ochako holds him, slightly levitating him above her arms to try and sooth him better. He continues to cry and wail like a good actor would, and Izuku jumps along with simple words of encouragement. "You're doing so well!" He gleams, trying to convince himself that this boy has actually injured himself badly.

Katsuki grates his teeth together behind them, arms weighed down at his side by his gauntlets. He's not a particularly comforting person, and he doesn't look so sweet, either. He's like a scary dog, banished to the back to keep him from attacking people. He stiffens in anger when he hears a new cry for help.

"Oh, is that another person?" Izuku thinks out loud.

"You and Bakugo go on and look for them, I'll rush this boy back." Ochako decides, starting faster on her way back. Izuku nods firmly.

"Come on, Kacchan!" He calls.

Katsuki sucks in a breath. "Just my luck."

The woman, this time, is stuck a top a building. From the position the two have on the floor, she doesn't look injured, only distressed. "Hello! Just wait there, we're going to save you!" Izuku calls from below as the woman frantically paces from side to side.

"Can't she just take the stairs?" Katsuki mumbles.

"I don't know, Kacchan. Stop being so moody." Izuku groans as he charges up his body. His legs spark with green embers before he leaps up to the roof of the building. Katsuki waits around, kicking stones, unwilling to do much else. Rescue isn't part of why he wants to be a hero. That and he's just super bad at it.

He cranes his head up to watch Izuku. The sun blinds him slightly and he covers his eyes with his gloves hand. From what he can see, Izuku is holding the woman's hands meekly, asking if she's alright. She pretends to freak out, but what she's saying is unheard. Katsuki finds the whole situation impossibly stupid, but his being presents a feeble respect for Izuku. He always puts 100% into every task. Katsuki starts to feel a little shy when he reflects on his own posture. Izuku is actually better than him at this.

And that is horrible.

"Deku!" He yells impatiently. "Bring her down, you're just freaking her out more!"

Izuku starts to stir, and he encourages the woman to stay still so he can get her down. His immediate thoughts are to jump from the roof with her, but in her skittish state that would probably terrify her. Instead, Izuku leads her to the stairwell and helps her down the stories. She's hard to move and harder to encourage, but once they make it down she begins to stop shaking.

"I'm scared of heights." She mutters, putting on fake relief. Izuku gives her a wobbly smile.

"Well, don't fear! You're on the ground now. Do you want us to guide you to the medical bay?" Izuku grins, trying his best to imitate All Might.

The woman shakes her head. "No, I'm not hurt." She explains.

"Well, go anyway." Katsuki scoffs. "They have water and stuff. Where on earth else were you planning to go?" 

The woman flinches. "Home?" She pretends.

"This place is a dump. Just go to the medical bay. It's, like, safer." Katsuki mutters, trying to be nice. The wide, stupid grin Izuku is giving him makes his wording falter a bit.

"You're probably right." The woman shrugs.

"Well, you can tag along with Aoyama over there. He has a citizen and is probably on his way." Izuku suggests, and waves the woman away as she begins to leave. "Safe travels!"

A silence took over after her footsteps fell out of earshot. Izuku turns to Katsuki with the same grin. "That was good! Kind of." He congratulates.

"Everything I do is good."

"Hey, guys!" Ochako calls before Izuku has an opportunity to answer. She rushes over with hurried step and shortness of breath. "I was looking for you! A team needs to stay together!" She smiles.

"Whatever, pink cheeks. I'm sick of this exercise, so team-it-up together." Katsuki complains, starting off down the street. Izuku jumps when he notices Katsuki is leaving him. Can a guy get more selfish?

Izuku, without thinking, reaches out a hand and grabs Katsuki's arm. There's a wave of relief that surges through his body, one that points out just how awful he was feeling before. He tightens his grip for just a second, a fleeting and futile attempt at showing Katsuki how badly he needed him to stay. But Katsuki shrugs his arm free, scowl growing on his face.

"Stay, Kacchan. I- You need to stay." Izuku sputters, conscious of Ochako beside him and not yet willing to tell her the truth. "Because, Aizawa will be angry if you run from the team."

Katsuki, picking up on every subliminal message, shuts his eyes irritably. "Maybe I don't care about Aizawa. Or you."

"Well, that would be selfish, wouldn't it. Because we need you to help.. us." Izuku gulps.

"Haven't you ever thought of just helping yourself?"

Izuku flinches. "Well, that's not how it works, Kacchan!" He says, voice beginning to raise.

"Do you guys want me to leave-" Ochako starts before Katsuki interrupts her.

"Maybe I don't want to follow you around!" Katsuki remarks, louder than Izuku.

"Maybe you don't get a damn choice!" Izuku hardly says 'damn' because he believes it's a useless filler word, but when he wants to get an angry point across, he finds himself acting the way Katsuki does. In that way, he balls his fists and bares his teeth, trying to copy the boy before him.

"I can do whatever I want. If you're too damn weak to handle a fever don't blame me."

"Fever?" Ochako flinches.

"Kacchan, how can you always be so selfish! It's not like you have to stay close. But if you start running off you're just going to kill me!" 

Katsuki wants to reply, wants to shout until Izuku understands he's not some caretaker, but the pained look on Ochako's face stops him short. She looks puzzled, cocking her head to the side as she watches Izuku. "What are you guys fighting about?"

"Stay out of it." Katsuki spits. Really, he wants her to leave. Something about her knowing - her understanding that Izuku needs to rely on Katsuki - makes him feel a little queasy.

Izuku breathes unsteadily, silent anger prevalent in the tone of his air. He's frowning when Katsuki looks at him. "You're right. Fine." He says. Izuku isn't one to give up, but he learnt a long time ago that no matter how structured the argument, to Katsuki he would always be wrong. He turns, a little too sharply for his condition, and starts on down the street like Katsuki moments before. He wobbles after 3 metres, just like his notebook says.

"Deku." Katsuki says, not particularly desperately or loudly. He wonders if Ochako even heard him. "I'm probably in the wrong, aren't I?" He asks Ochako.

"Definitely."

It's evening when Katsuki next sees Izuku, and the signs of distance are plastered over his face. Izuku is pale, paler than usual, and his hair is sweaty and ruffled. His cheeks are an unusual shade of red, and he constantly barks out loud and ugly coughs. He's seriously sick.

Iida sits oppotie him on the common room table. He's holding a bag of ice, guarding a glass of water and tablets of various kinds. He's saying something grave, hand pointed in the stern way it always is when he's trying to be convincing. Katsuki only really hears Iida once he's standing behind him.

"I think it would be remarkably foolish for you to attend class in this state, Midoriya. You are far too unwell to participate in any form of learning. I have your best interests at heart." Iida says, however it all sounds like strict commands. "Would you like me to make you something to eat before you rest?"

Izuku, watching Katsuki as he lurks behind Iida like an evil shadow, shakes his head gently. Any more force and he'd worsen his throbbing headache. "Don't worry about it, Iida. But thanks for helping."

"If you won't eat, will you please take some form of medication. I don't understand you when you say you don't actually need it." Iida throws up mock speech bubbles as he quotes Izuku.

Katsuki is finally ready to talk. "Move it, four-eyes. I need to talk." He says unsophisticatedly.

"Bakugo, I am trying to help Midoriya." Iida complains.

"And I know what's best for him, so scram."

Iida shares a helpless glance with Izuku, but when Izuku shrugs his shoulders complacently, he understands there's nothing he can do. "Fine. But don't encourage him into bad habits, Bakugo. He needs rest."

"I know what he needs, damn it. You're not a doctor." Katsuki spits. After a moment of contemplation, Iida leaves. He too understands that 'Katsuki is always right.'

Katsuki pulls out the chair Iida had tucked away as he left and pushes away the mess of medication on the table. "What is this stuff?"

Izuku shrugs. He's sweet and kind and loveable, but also impossibly petty. He shuts his mouth like the safe of a bank. Katsuki knows what he's doing immediately and groans loudly. "Get over yourself. I actually came to have a civil conversation."

Katsuki watches Izuku look away, rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek. Small, but evident, is the begining of a smirk.

"Wipe that stupid look off your face and speak to me, or I'll blow up your Bronze Age Holographic All Might Card." Katsuki says firmly.

"You wouldn't dare." Izuku says, feigning horror.

Katsuki shrugs. "You're right, but you're speaking. So listen."

"You force me to speak just so that I can listen? Kacchan, you are just impossible." Izuku says sarcastically.

"Not funny." Katsuki says, and he grimaces when Izuku starts to cough. It's sore and raspy. It sounds as though the noise is being pulled from his throat like the soles of your shoes on gravel. "How long have you been ill?" Katsuki says disgustedly.

"Ever since you abandoned me this morning. So, like nine hours." Izuku's words are said lightly, but there's a bountiful pool of truth in all of it.

"I didn't abandon you. You stalked off like a loser." Katsuki defends himself.

"Whatever. What's this civil conversation you talk of? I don't think I know the term." Izuku continues to parade his sarcastic string of remarks. He knows they make Katsuki annoyed. It's not like he didn't learn it from him.

"I'm serious. I think that... Well, logically I think, and not because of..." Katsuki stumbles over his own words, picking and choosing what he wants to say and what he needs to. It's a thin line. "I just think it's probably not right that you're actually ill all the time."

"Probably." Izuku deadpans.

Katsuki ignores that. "So, I think we should - I don't know - draw up some rules."

"Rules?" Izuku continues to say flatly, eyebrows creasing slightly.

"Well, not-rules. I don't know. But Aizawa and All Might are going to be super pissed if they find out I keep ditching you, so I guess I've got to do something." Katsuki mutters, thiking out loud.

After a while of somber contemplation, Izuku replies. "I don't know what you mean. Are you, like, not going to keep me at a 10 metre distance? Because I'm still sick at 10 metres." He reminds him.

"No. Well, yeah." Katsuki contradicts himself. "I think you should probably, I don't know. Stick around. Like this."

Izuku looks at the space between them. Hardly over a metre. It would be nice, staying this close. Already his headache is soothing. "You mean.. what, exactly?"

"Well, you can sit next to me."

"Seriously? I can't believe this fortune has been passed onto me. Please, oh please, write this down save you forget what you've blessed me with." Izuku chants mockingly. He even rests the back of his hand on his fevered head theatrically.

"I'm getting sick of your smart mouth, nerd. I'm serious." Katsuki says flatly. "At lunch, after hours. You should probably be closer than you are. If you're feeling sick at 10 metres, then.." Katsuki trails off, unbothered to finish his own sentences.

Izuku starts to giggle. "So, what? You'll let me sit with you at lunch?"

"Is that all you've ever dreamed of?" Katsuki says mockingly. But not in the kindly mocking way that Izuku adopts.

"And more." Izuku scoffs as he rolls his eyes. After a while, he realises Katsuki is out of words and sighs. He still feels sick, being away from Katsuki for so long has to have some damaging affects, but his body is starting to soothe. "Thanks, Kacchan. That would be nice. I'm not really enjoying this fever."

"Does it suck?"

"More than anything."

Katsuki finds himself looking away. He feels guilt, maybe. "Well, two weeks isn't that long. You just have to suck it up and stop being a total idiot."

Izuku breathes out a laugh. "I'll try."

Chapter Text

Izuku had never much had a problem with sitting on his own. After a while, he began to delight in it. In Junior School, if Izuku could be left alone for a whole lunch period, it felt like a dream. When he started at UA, it was fundamentally shocking that he had so many people that wanted to sit with him. To hang out with him. And for the most part, he couldn't be happier. But one lunch mission he had never been able to succeed was sitting with Katsuki.

Katsuki ate a lot, Izuku realises as he shuffles awkwardly in the cafeteria booth. It was just like any other day, except his dream (second to becoming a hero, third to meeting All Might, fourth to getting his hands on the limited edition 80's All Might poster) of sitting with his childhood friend at lunch was coming true.

Katsuki swallows a large gulp of rice before he finally broke the silence. "What is with you?" Katsuki says, dropping his chopsticks firmly into his bowl.

Izuku stammers. “Nothing, nothing.” He tries to smile.

”I thought being next to me was supposed to make you normal. You’re still acting like a freak.” Katsuki spits, eyes furrowed in irritation. “Why are you just sitting and watching me. Don’t you have any lunch?”

Izuku looks down at his empty portion of the table, starkly contrasting Katsuki’s, who is enjoying rice and soda and vegetables and noodles. "I don't know. I didn't get around to buying anything." He shrugs.

Katsuki stares blankly at him. "How on earth do you put on muscle if you don't eat, nerd?" He asks, voice lowering an octave that suggests he's actually asking.

"I do eat." Izuku gulps, and it was true. There was plenty of reasons Izuku didn't have any lunch on him, however. I was so excited we got to sit next to each other that it slipped my mind. And I didn't want to waste time buying anything, I'd rather just sit and watch you. Also, all this nausea is making it hard to feel very hungry.

"Really?" Katsuki asks.

Izuku grins. "Yeah, I love eating."

"No, all the nausea is ruining you're appetite." Katsuki frowns unkindly. It's more like a paternal scolding. "And you just like watching me? Don't you freak yourself out? If I said dodgy shit like you do I'd probably tape my mouth shut."

Izuku sighs and sits back in the booth. No use in defending himself, and Katsuki probably knew all of that anyway. Man, he has got to stop mumbling. "I think of it more as abusing my freedom of expression."

"Yeah, you're certainly abusing it. Chewing up your freaky words and spittin' them out like a nerd."

Izuku knits his brow. "What does that even mean?"

"Kacchan of the Bakugo's!" A familiar voice bellows from one end of the booth. "And who do we have here? I can't believe it! Pose you two!" Denki grins like a kid, holding up his rusty camera and pointing it in their faces.

"Put that damn thing away before I pawn it." Katsuki says flatly, picking up his full sugar coke.

Denki rolls his eyes. "You'll pose, right Midoriya? I want to document the first time you're allowed to sit with us!" 

Izuku smiles wide and lets Denki take his picture. He was never much photogenic, so he hoped his now frequent photos turned out okay. The group squished into the booth they always sat at and turned all eyes to Midoriya. They set out their various lunches and swarmed him.

"So, Midoriya, how did you get Bakugo to let you sit? We've been asking for months to have you here." Mina begins, smiling wide and taking one of Izuku's hands.

"You... have?"

"Yeah, totally! I just love watching you two interact." Mina grins. Then, she winks. What subliminal message was Izuku not picking up on?

"That's probably the weirdest fucking thing you've ever said." Katsuki spits, rolling his eyes.

"Uh, well, I don't know. Iida is... working. And Uraraka sat with... uh, Tsu today. And, well I guess I couldn't find Todoroki. So, I just asked?" Izuku curates a string of decent lies. He didn't know why he felt the urge to lie, after deliberating he decided he didn't mind if people knew. But Katsuki didn't like it, and so he'd keep his mouth shut.

"Really? That's great. That's so nice of Bakugo to say yes." Mina smiles to herself. When Denki starts to giggle, and Katsuki shoots him a horrifying glare, Izuku truly believes there is something he's missing.

"So, like," Denki starts, voice wobbling as if he can't hold back a laugh. "How long have you two-" Katsuki throws his empty can at Denki's head. Yeah, Izuku was totally missing something.

"Say another fucking word and I'll burn the camera." Katsuki says coldly, with some haste. Izuku grows to feel very awkward. He would, though, sitting with this group. He didn't often do so.

"He's only kidding, Bakubro. You know he likes to joke." Kirishima says idly, looking to Izuku with a nervous gait. Izuku gulps thickly. 

"Uh, well," Izuku starts, unaware on how he'd finish his sentence. He just wanted to move on. "Why do you hate Kaminari's camera so much? You had a similar one when we were younger." Izuku says with a smile in Katsuki's direction. He's wonderfully unaware of how angry this make's Katsuki.

"For real?" Denki gleams.

"No."

"Yeah, you did. It was green, though. Not black." Izuku continues, dodging past any indicator Katsuki gives him to stop. "Why'd you stop? You were really good at photography." Izuku says mindlessly.

"Bakugo liked photography?" Sero asks.

"Yeah! Up until we were, like, twelve." Izuku shrugs. "We would go out into the forest when we were little and take pictures of beetles that Kaccha- actually! We never did that." Izuku suddenly contradicts himself when he looks to Katsuki, who's eyes are squinted in what can only be described as rage.

"Man, I like having you on the table," Mina grins. "We get to hear so many fun stories!"

"What about the story of when you slipped on your own acid and gave yourself a concussion." Katsuki offers with a malice laced tone.

Kirishima barks out a laugh. "Oh, yeah! That was hilarious."

Izuku winces. "You really did that?" He asks painfully.

"Yeah," Mina sighs. "I couldn't remember a thing for like three days. Class was hard, and Kiri had to teach me all of the material I didn't get."

The group, in playful spirits, begin to laugh at her. After a while, she laughs too. The only person not laughing is Katsuki, who's staring down at his unfinished food. "What's the matter, man?" Kirishima asks, not more concerned than curious.

Katsuki, surprisingly, looks up at Izuku before he speaks. A fleeting moment of eye contact. Connection. "Nothing. You guy were late and lunch is over." He says.

"Man, really." Sero groans. "I didn't even eat my chips."

"Don't go on 'broadcasting adventures' with dunce-face when you should be eating, then." Katsuki squints. "Now go to class before you somehow get even more fuckin' stupid."

Gradually, and in low spirits, the group begin to pack themselves up and head out. They're almost on their way before Kirishima turns back. "You coming?" He asks Katsuki, and spares a glance to Izuku, who had waited for Katsuki to stand before he did.

"In a minute. Don't wait for me." He mutters in return.

Izuku begins to cock his head. Kirishima is accepting of Katsuki's allusiveness, knowing Katsuki doesn't like meddling, and jogs on to catch up with the rest of the group. Suddenly, as if the whole thing never happened, Katsuki and Izuku are alone again. Idly, Katsuki picks up his chopsticks and swallows what's left of his noodles.

"Shouldn't we go? If class is starting." Izuku asks cautiously.

"Its not," Katsuki mumbles, mouth full. "Not for a few minutes, anyway." He shrugs, as if it made sense for him to send away his friends prematurely.

"Then why did you-"

"I don't know." Katsuki says before Izuku has a chance to finish, like he didn't want to hear the situation being presented back to him. He fiddles for something in his pocket before pulling out a bar of something sweet. He tosses it, not very gently, at Izuku's chest. "There, asshole. You can't wait until evening to eat, it's stupid. But, you are kind of stupid, so I'm not shocked you would do something dumb like that."

Izuku, battling a lack of words, smiles. He picks the treat up from his lap and identifies it as a peanut butter and chocolate protein bar. He likes them - he didn't know Katsuki did. "Thanks."

"But, quickly. I did kind of mean it when I said class was starting soon."

Izuku used like independent class work. He liked having the freedom to write whatever he wanted. Sometimes, he found himself to be a little bossy. If people didn't stick to his favoured ideas in a group discussion, he began to grow a little irritated. He was just as bossy as Iida, only he didn't verbalise it. He always preferred working on his own, partly because he thought he could do better alone, but mostly because people didn't use to like to listen to him. Now they did though, and Izuku was warming up to class work.

He, Ochako, Iida, and Shoto sit around a round table in the library. The classroom section of the area had been booked for Aizawa's afternoon lesson. A group project, one that wouldn't take longer than a weekend. Each group was given a Pro Hero and tasked to devise every weakness they could think of that would limit their quirk. Izuku's group were given Mount Lady.

Iida was occupied with drawing a neat looking table on a large sheet of blank paper. He takes things very seriously, while Ochako suggests they add a wonderfully crafted pink title with her sakura themed highlighters. "No, you write the letters big and capital with the highlighter, and then in black ink write them again but thin and wavy." She explains.

"That doesn't sound very professional, or beneficial." Iida remarks, trying to visualise the image Ochako was describing.

"I think it sounds nice." Shoto offers, putting in his piece. He pulls the paper closer to himself and squints, trying to see what it would look like alongside the table. "Mount Lady's costume is purple, though."

"I have purple!" Ochako smiles, fishing in her pencil case for the thick highlighter with tacky purple flowers on it.

"That's better." Shoto nods.

Iida begins to defend his former point when he catches sight of Izuku, who was sitting opposite him. He looked, to Iida, sad. "Midoriya? Are you still feeling unwell?"

Izuku was, to be honest. Though Katsuki was on a table not too far from him, he was still some distance away, and it was hurting his head. "Uh, kinda." He says finally, looking away from Katsuki and his group.

When he turns, Ochako is frowning. "Are you upset about the fight you had with Bakugo yesterday? I never understood what you were talking about." She asks, noticing how Izuku had been looking at him.

"No, not... no." Izuku says evasively. "Don't worry, though. We should focus on the project."

"You fought with Bakugo?" Iida asks, brow furrowed.

"No, it wasn't really a fight. I was just a little irritated with him, but when am I not? Right?" Izuku laughs awkwardly. He found personal discussion a little nerve-wracking.

Iida continues to meddle. "I think you should inform Aizawa if he is treating you unlawfully."

"It wasn't that big of a deal, he just wanted to leave our group during the rescue exercise." Izuku explains, picking up one of Ochako's cream pencils to distract himself. "I just thought he was being a little selfish."

"But he kept talking about your illness. I mean, did that really have anything to do with it?" She asks, unaware that her insistence was beginning to make Izuku feel worse.

"Well, no." He gulps.

"What did Bakugo say?" Shoto asks idly. "About his illness."

Izuku, head pounding and throat sore from being three metres away from Katsuki, began to grow tired of the conversation quickly. He wasn't that upset, there was only a little thing on his mind. After he hears Ochako begin to explain all she remembers, he puts his fevered forehead onto the table. All sounds smothers quickly. "Midoriya?" Shoto beckons.

"I totally lied, I'm miserable and it's all Kacchan's fault." Izuku groans, sound muffled from his awkward position. He was being dramatic, really, but the sentiment held true.

"What! Why?" Ochako jumps at the sight of Izuku so distressed.

Izuku sits up, head reeling from the action, but he smiles. It's nice to have friends that care. "If I tell you, can you all promise not to tell a single soul? I don't think Kacchan would appreciate it." 

They all nod firmly. Izuku bites the inside of his cheek and deliberates confessing. He's got to crack soon, it's now or later. "You know how I'm, like, really sick?" He starts. When his audience doesn't talk, he continues. "Well, it's because I got hit by a quirk."

"Midoriya! Did you inform Aizawa?" Iida asks hastily.

"Yeah, he told me in the first place. But, anyway, the quirk is a pretty interesting one, because it makes the victim sick if they're too distant from the user. Which is cool, but it also works for the first person you speak to. Kinda like Shinso's quirk. Which would, in combat, usually be the user. Only instead of speaking to the girl who accidently hit me, I ended up..."

"...talking to Bakugo." Ochako finishes with a flinch. "Are you serious? Oh my word, that sucks."

"I know, and that asshole hates having me around." Izuku sighs deeply, the last strands of his pent up frustrations leaving his body. "And the girl with the quirk is gone for two weeks, so I'm stuck like this."

"I suppose that's why you refused my offer of medication? There's no cure to your sickness, besides Bakugo." Iida thinks out loud.

"Yup. So... screwed." Izuku groans. "He sat with me for lunch, though. So, I guess it's not all bad."

"He did?" Ochako asks. "I wondered where you'd gone. I can't imagine Bakugo would purposefully make you sick, though. So maybe he will stick around for the next two weeks."

"Maybe he's nervous." Shoto offers. "To be around you. Maybe that's why he tried to leave your team."

Izuku thinks for a while, eyes squinting. "Nervous? You think?"

"It's plausible. You have a difficult relationship - I'm sure he would find your company unnerving." Shoto says blankly. It takes a lot for Izuku not to feel puzzled at that.

Ochako giggles at Shoto's bluntness. "I think what Todoroki means is that he's probably just not used to being casual with you. Maybe he's just overwhelmed, and that's why he's running"

"Maybe you're right." Izuku trails off, thinking about the past few days. When he turns, he can see Katsuki talking to Kirishima. He doesn't look alarmed or irritated. He's relaxed in his chair, holding a pen and talking. And then, Kirishima laughs and Katsuki smiles, and Izuku beings to feel a bubbling and unnatural feeling in the core of his stomach. Katsuki is laughing, casual in another persons company. There was a time Katsuki used to laugh at Izuku's jokes. He'd laugh because they weren't funny, and he'd tell Izuku he was lucky to have him around, otherwise no one would ever find him funny. It was a strange compliment, but the sentiment stood.

And now, Katsuki avoided him like the plague and laughed at other people's jokes. Did he tell Kirishima not to worry about making other friends, because Katsuki had all he needed? He had told Izuku that. Does he tell other people?

Evasively, Izuku tried not to name his surging emotion. It would make him feel worse. But the cold prickle of jealousy pinched his skin, and he knew he was thinking too hard on this.

"Whatever it is, I'll get it sorted. For now, Mount Lady."

Izuku slumps on the common room sofa. There's an idle static of the TV presenting a gameshow, and Izuku swallows large mouthfuls of toffee popcorn. He almost doesn't notice when Katsuki stands before him, blocking the TV screen. "Sit up, idiot, you look lazy."

"I am lazy." Izuku mutters, before pulling his weight up and spilling some popcorn. 

"Ugh, you're gross. That shit is stacked with calories. Are you trying to get fat?" Katsuki scoffs. He takes a seat on the other end of the yellowish green sofa and flicks pieces of popcorn out of his area.

"I love popcorn." Is all Izuku manages for a reply.

"Well, love something healthy. And did you even eat something for dinner?" He grimaces.

"Yeah, I had like three eggs." Izuku answers. He knows his measly meal will get a rise out of Katsuki, and he grins before he hears the obnoxious bellowing from his counterpart.

"Fucking seriously? Eggs? Do you want your training to go to waste, becuase if you don't eat enough you'll not put on muscle, only burn fat. How on earth do you plan to support your shitty quirk if you're stick thin?" Katsuki refrains from yelling, but his face supports the idea of it.

Izuku only laughs. He does actually eat well, on a normal day. "Kacchan, relax. I loose my appetite when I'm sick. And don't ignore the popcorn!" Izuku adds, shaking his calorific bag in the air.

Katsuki, surprisingly, hesitates. "So.. what, you're blaming me." He says blankly.

Izuku coughs on the popcorn he swallows. "No, Kacchan." He giggles. "It's not your fault I'm sick or anything. And it's not like you can spend all-"

"Okay, quit it. I don't wanna know." Katsuki says abruptly, favouring the static of the TV over Izuku's ramblings.

Izuku scoffs, swallowing another handful of popcorn. "Alright."

There's a manufactured silence that drapes over them, and for lack of better actions, Izuku turns back to the TV. The show host yells a large sum of 8,000,000 Yen before panning his hand toward a screen playing a short money animation. "Woah, eight million." Izuku whispers. He watches a little while longer, seeing a woman scream for oy as fake notes pile down on her, indicating she's won. But, when Izuku looks back, Katsuki is watching him, instead. "What is it, Kacchan?"

Katsuki squints. "Is there something up with you?" He asks plainly.

"Something up?"

"You acted a little extra weird today. Like, I could confidently call you a freak." Katsuki complains. "You seemed so... skittish, at lunch. But you're friends with everyone, right?"

Izuku nods slowly, putting away his popcorn on the coffee table. "Lunch?" Izuku says as he leans back in the sofa, not anticipating a reply. "I don't know, I was just out of place is all."

"Out of place, that's weird, Deku." Katsuki pulls a sour face.

"Well, I don't know. I just.. yeah."

"I don't think you can 'yeah' asshole so tell me what you really mean." Katsuki furrows his brow in what could only be irritation. Maybe he didn’t care, or maybe everything he did was tainted in frustration. Despite all they’d been through, Izuku wasn’t able to tell. Slowly, Katsuki’s face falls. It’s a soft and gradual decline, but evident. Is that him letting his guard down? Does he care?

“You, uh, well, Kaminari was… I don’t know, laughing.” Izuku says aloud, feeling sheepish at the stupidity of it.

”When is that idiot not laughing?” Katsuki says.

Izuku shrugs, turning in on himself. His breath feels heavy in his lungs. It wasn’t much of a secret, but Izuku had always felt with anxiety. He was a nervous kid, skittish and paranoid, and had to begin taking medication from the age of six. Katsuki’s relentless mockery never helped, and finding out he was quirkless threw him off the deep end. But slowly, with the help of a UA councillor and an up in his dosage, Izuku was beginning to feel content with himself again.

But when he’s sitting at a lunch table he doesn’t know if he’s welcome at, and those around him are sharing a hidden laugh, and Katsuki is glaring at him, he can’t help but feel like he’s the butt of some stupid joke.

Were they mocking him? Did they think it was totally stupid he was sitting there? Was he still that same, quirkless kid that sticks out wherever he goes? Does everyone still hate him?

It’s a quick and detrimental decline, but the very essence of an anxious brain. Thoughts grow more severe as they multiply, and Izuku finds himself like Alice in the rabbit hole, falling and falling until he’s totally unaware on what the truth was.

It’s irrational, for the most part, and Izuku know that his brain is a little more sensitive than others.

And, weirdly, Katsuki does too.

”They weren’t laughing at you.” He says idly, eyes darting back to the TV screen because he’s never been able to look someone in the eye when he’s being earnest. “They were laughing, but not at you. At me, actually. It’s a dumb joke they’ve got about me, and, I don’t know. It’s just dumb.”

Izuku widens his eyes as he watches Katsuki spit out words that sound somehow sweet. He’s growing at the TV, but Izuku knows he’s only trying to look tough. It makes him smile.

”A joke about you?”

”Yeah, that yellow dunce-face has some joke that he likes to make. It’s about me, but, I guess you, too. That’s why they were laughing. So don’t freak out, nerd.”

An honest attempt, but the dragged explanation begins to make Izuku feel worse. “Me? So they are laughing at me? Is  it because I sat with you today? Maybe you should tell them why I was really there, so they don’t think I’m just desperate to be their friends, or something.” He rambles, words growing more wobbled as he blurts out his anxieties.

”Shut up.” Katsuki groans. “You guys are already friends. They’re just taking the piss out of me, so stop freaking out.”

Izuku frowns. “But you said I was apart of the joke?”

Katsuki lets out an irritated noise. He finally looks back. Izuku has a strangled look on his face, like someone’s telling him his family are dying. He’d always been bad at discerning how extreme things really are. “You.. are. But it’s not a bad thing. Can’t you just trust me? It’s not a bad joke.”

”Can you tell me what it is?”

”No.” Katsuki looks away again.

”So that means it’s awful.” 

He groans. “No, it’s just… You’re such a nerd. It’s just.. embarrassing. It’s an embarrassing joke, okay? And I don’t want to tell you.” Katsuki huffs, crossing his arms petulantly.

”Embarrassing? For you?”

Unnaturally, Katsuki feels his cheeks pink. He looks stupid. “Yeah, so.. can it.”

Izuku waits a moment, pursing his lips like a dam holding back water. Eventually, he can’t hold it, and barks out a mocking giggle. “Kacchan, why are you making that face?”

“What face?” Katsuki spits.

”You’re red! How embarrassing is this?”

”I’m not, asshole.”

”You’re pink.” Izuku laughs. “When was the last time I saw you blush?”

“Never, because I’m not. I said drop it, so get on with it, shitty nerd.” Katsuki raised his voice a little. His tone is laced with hesitance.

Izuku finds it hysterical. “Oh my gosh, please tell me what the joke is.”

“Fuck off.” Katsuki spits, folding his arms tighter over his chest defensively.

Izuku frowns mockingly. “Come on, how is it that they get to know some silly secret of yours and I don’t?”

”Maybe because they’re my friends.” Katsuki knits his brow.

Theres a loud snap as Katsuki cuts the string of whimsy. Izuku flinches, that stinging sensation of jealousy creeping through his bones. He tries to laugh, but it comes out as a breathy, strangled noise.

”Right,” Izuku says. His voice sounds as wobbly as it did when he listed his anxieties. It’s noticeable. “yeah. Well, don’t worry about telling me if you’re embarrassed. I was only kidding.”

Katsuki feels pained, but he doesn’t look it. “Okay, nerd.”

Izuku, disgustingly aware of how Katsuki’s face doesn’t falter, clears his throat. “Well, isn’t it part your bed time?” He giggles with no sense of joy from before. “It’s mine, anyway. So, I’ll, uh, see you ‘round?”

Katsuki looks away. “Probably.”

Izuku nods sharply, sitting up and brushing himself off. “Cool.”

His footsteps sound like bullets as they fade into the far distance. Katsuki waits until they’re silent until he lets out an exasperated groan, sinking into the sofa. His tank drags up his body as he slides. 

“I just keep getting stupider.”

Chapter Text

Over the weekend, Izuku rests on the common room table as his group members try to come up with weaknesses for Mount Lady. In their allotted lesson time, they got around to very little. Ochako, however, had her way with creative freedom, and decorated the page with pink and purple lettering.

”You know what it’s missing?” She asks the air, sizing up the paper before her. “A picture. Deku, can you draw her in the middle?”

Izuku sits up. His head was throbbing and his cheeks were flush. Katsuki was in the gym. He had the simple kindness to ask Izuku if he wanted to come with, save him from his fever, but Izuku declined. His fault.

”Draw Mount Lady? I don’t know if I’d do her justice.” Izuku says sheepishly.

”Sure you would! I’ve seen your doddles in your notebook, you’re super good.” Ochako encourages.

”I think we need to focus on the actual substance of the project, rather than design.” Iida says persistently. He looks to Shoto for agreement, but is only met with a plain face chewing on cold soba. He didn’t get around to having breakfast.

”I don’t know,” Shoto says with his mouth horribly full. “I think a drawing is nice.”

”Why does no one agree with me?” Iida sighs.

Ochako begins to giggle. “Okay, we can come up with the material while Deku draws the picture. Sound good?”

”Perfect.” Iida smiles, getting his way.

Izuku picks up a pencil from Ochako’s pencil case. It’s new, hardly sharpened, and covered in small Miffy’s. “I love Miffy.” Ochako grins. “I hope you don’t mind.”

”I like Miffy, too.” Izuku smiles and reaches for a sharpener. When the pencil is pointy, he marks out a rough rectangle that represents the size of Mount Lady in the centre of the page. “Is this too big?”

”No! Perfect!” Ochako gives a thumbs up.

”Okay.” Izuku pulls a nervous face. “I hope I can draw her well, it’s been a few years.” He giggles. 

The lines come pretty easy to him as he looks back and fourth at a reference. She’s beautiful, he thinks. She has long blonde hair that’s fun to draw. He slides the pencil in fluid waves, giving her hair a little more volume than evident in the photo.

When he has to draw her figure, he feels a little flustered. He looks up sheepishly and hopes Ochako doesn’t think he’s a pervert.

After a while, he’s pretty satisfied that it looks similar to her. He’s shaded her mask and purple parts of her suit, and added a few little four-line stars beside her head.

”Midoriya, that’s very good.” Shoto comments as Izuku sits back.

”You think? I don’t know if the anatomy is right.” Izuku squints at his own picture.

”No, I like it. It looks just like her.” Shoto grabs the paper and looks to it closer. Iida and Ochako peer over, too.

”Oh my goodness, Deku! It’s so cute!” Ochako squeals. “I wish you drew more for us.” 

Izuku rubs the back of his neck, flustered. “Well, I’ve practiced a lot, I guess.” 

“Should we write down what we decided?” Iida asks. “I suggest bullet points.”

”Let’s write the titles in pink!” Ochako smiles.

”Please, no.” Iida sighs.

Izuku mopes around for the remainder of the day. After his project was completed before he thought it’d be, he ran out of tasks for the day. 

And now, against the setting sun, his head ached and stomach turned. Katsuki was in his line of sight, cooking something in the kitchen, yet somehow he couldn’t face him.

Maybe it’s because Katsuki said they weren’t friends. Maybe Izuku’s just shy. Maybe he’s too tired to move.

Except, it’s definitely because Katsuki said they weren’t friends. 

So he slumped against the dormitory window, watching the sky turn pink. He felt helplessly sick. His skin was hot and sweaty and burning, and his stomach threatened vomiting every few moments. If he stared at the sky too long, his mind started to spin and twist. Izuku sighed against the glass, fogging it up.

He only had to stand beside Katsuki for a few moments, and everything would be fine. But can you really face a boy you’ve looked up to your whole life, after he said you weren’t friends?

Izuku only feels sicker.

He should speak to someone, it would probably make him feel better. Maybe he’d call Ochako, or Iida, and spill how annoyed he was. But he just didn’t feel like it. Talking felt like a chore, and his complaints started to sound a little ridiculous as he mumbled them to himself.

The sky was getting darker, and his body felt weaker. The longer he was dealing with the quirk, the worse it got. Izuku could throw up if he walked any further away. He felt helpless. Relying on Katsuki made him feel helpless. It took so much to break away from it, from living just to watch his back, and Izuku was slipping back into the hell that is Katsuki’s shadow.

Not to mention, Katsuki hates having Izuku rely on him. Nothing was good.

A sharp pain in his frontal forehead made him wince and close his eyes against the glass. It was awful, feeling so unwell. He hoped no one could see him.

But when his headache started to ease, he thought two things. He’s finally ascending to heaven, or Katsuki is standing next to him.

The forehead is always the first to go.

“Sit up, nerd, you’re not special.” Katsuki spits, looming over Izuku’s dramatic self.

”Huh?” Izuku mumbles, peering open his eyes. It killed him how better he felt already.

”Stop thinkin’ you’re some big shot, staring out the window like you’re thinkin’ about something mega. Just get up and eat your dinner.” Katsuki insults, eyes furrowed and judging Izuku.

Izuku, too tired to care about last night events, peels opens his eyes. “My dinner? I haven’t got ‘round to making it yet.”

”I know, idiot. You haven’t for like three days.” Katsuki groans. “It’s so unhealthy, not eating dinner. It messes with your metabolism.”

”Stop judging my eating habits.” Izuku mumbles, resting the back of his head on the glass and sitting properly against the windowsill. 

“Just eat.” Katsuki rolls his eyes. He pushes up a bowl of something and for the first time, Izuku notices it. He was too tired to look and his nose was too blocked to smell it, but his eyes were fine, and Izuku was looking at a sparkly bowl of…

”Katsudon! Oh my goodness.” Izuku grins, abandoning all hesitation around Katsuki and what he said last night. “My favourite, you made it for me?” Izuku says, grabbing the bowl and wooden chopsticks.

”You need to eat, or you’ll be ugly and thin.” Katsuki says coldly. “Cold eggs won’t save you, bastard.”

Izuku shoves a large helping of pork into his mouth and delights in the flavour on his tounge. “Oh my word, this is so good. If the heroing doesn’t work out, consider this.” Izuku says, pointing his chopsticks to the bowl.

”Whatever, just eat it and shut up. I hate it when you speak with your mouth full.” Katsuki says, turning his back and beginning to walk away. However, he stops suddenly, and looks over his shoulder.

”I guess I also made it… ‘cause I, I don’t know, I was kinda an asshole,” Katsuki mutters, turning back to face Izuku. “last night. So, sorry, I guess. Kirishima told me to say sorry.”

”You spoke to him?” Izuku asks immediately. “Did you feel bad?”

”Fuck off, I never feel bad.” Katsuki frowns. “I just think I said some things that I didn’t mean. That’s all. Now, shut up and eat. It’s going to get cold, shitty asshole.”

In his weird way, he was remarkably sweet. Izuku grins. “Okay. Thanks for the..” He stops as Katsuki sounds around, trudging away with his stupid walk. “Katsudon.”

Earlier in the day, Katsuki had woke with a persistent rage. He felt it in the way he snapped at breakfast, furious that someone would leave the milk out to get warm instead of putting it back into the fridge. And how short is temper was when people were saying goodmorning to him.

He’s a temper-mental person, but not that bad.

Kirishima, being the ever caring friend he was, noticed his unusual attitude. “Hey, you good, man?” He asked as they walked to the gym. Katsuki, for a fleeing second, had felt guilty for leaving the dorm and potentially making Izuku sick, but Izuku was sleeping at 6am, and persistent he was fine.

“Fine. When am I not good?” Katsuki said a little too quickly. The sun was yet to rise, and the cold air chilled his exposed arms.

”Well, you seem a little snappy. You can tell me if there’s something on your mind.” Kirishima reassured.

Katsuki wrestled with the idea of it. Talk to someone? Unheard of. “No, thanks.” He said, adding the thanks when he thought over how Kirishima has called him ‘snappy.’

”Suit yourself, but I’m here. Maybe you can get all your anger out while we pump iron!” Kirishima suggested, forming his hands into fists before his chest.

They walked a while longer in silence, Katsuki listening to his own irritated breaths before the words began to spill from his mouth. “Okay, I messed up really bad.” He said finally, groaning at himself.

”Huh? What happened?”

”Im just an asshole, is all. And I keep spittin’ out things I don’t mean.” Katsuki kicked an idle rock on the ground. “To Deku.” He added when he realised how vauge he was being.

”Midoriya? It’s okay, man, what did you say?” Kirishima asked, tightening the grip he had on his bag strap.

”Just.” Katsuki started, he struggled to talk about himself like this. “You know lunch the other day, when he sat with us?” 

“Yeah, that was sweet.”

”Sweet? Don’t say sweet.” Katsuki flinched. “That stupid idiot was laughing at me, and I don’t know.”

”Kaminari?” Kirishima asked. “Are you annoyed about his joke?”

”No, I wasn’t. Well, I always am. But not then. Deku was, ‘cause he didn’t get it.” Katsuki shrugged, he felt a little better letting his thoughts out. “He’s got some stupid anxiety, especially about things like that. And I’d have let dunce face explain it so him, make him relax, y’know, but obviously I couldn’t.”

Kirishima couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, otherwise Midoriya would know-“

”Shut up.” Katsuki spat. “What’s important is that I was a total asshole after. He, like, was super freaked about it, how he usually is when he gets all worked up about himself, and I don’t know I was just listening.”

Kirishima listened as they walked, nodding slowly. When they reached the doors of the gym, they walked in without faltering, and Katsuki continued to talk.

”And then that idiot was laughing at me, because I told him this ‘secret joke’ was embarrassing. Which was dumb, so I was in a bad mood. And that’s why, when he asked why I would tell you this secret and not him, I said it was because we were friends.” 

Kirishima gasped. “And not him? Bakubro, that’s harsh.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “That’s why I’m saying I’m an asshole.”

Kirishima shoved his bag down beside a pile of weights. “Hey, at least you feel bad. That means you’re not an asshole.”

”How? I said something shitty.”

”But you didn’t mean it. You were just nervous. All you gotta do is tell Midoriya you’re sorry and he won’t mind much. It’s when you’re purposefully an asshole that people start to not forgive you.” Kirishima offered helpfully, pulling off his maroon hoodie. “And anyway, Midoriya is super forgiving. Trust, he won’t mind. Just tell him you were embarrassed and slipped up.”

Katsuki stood still, thinking over it all. “You think that’s fine? Enough?”

”If you wanna do more, that’s better.” Kirishima said idly, not thinking too much to of it.

”Really? Like what? I hate saying sorry like a normal person.” Katsuki admits blatantly.

Kirishima scoffs. “Well, you know what they say, actions speak louder than words.” He says, scanning the labels on the weights.

Katsuki thought for a while, plan brewing in his brain. “You’re right. Yeah, you’re right.”

Kirishima smiled. “Glad I could help.”

That night, Katsuki deliberated over what he could do to make up for himself. He wasn’t one to feel guilty, mostly because he never realised that what he said was actually awful. 

He could do Izuku’s homework, but then he realised he’d hate that. Maybe clean his room? But it was always pristine.

Katsuki thought over what he was actually good at, and he was reminded of Izuku’s poor diet. Three eggs and some shitty popcorn. He winced at the idea of it. Even if he was ill, you can’t just not eat. And then it hit him, Katsuki was a marvellous chef.

It didn’t take long to decide what Izuku would like. That boy had been eating Katsudon like it was going out of fashion since he learnt to have likes and dislikes. Katsuki never liked it much, he didn’t like the tame flavour and pork taste. When they ate together, he usually fished the pork out of his bowl and ate the rice.

Like a moth to the flame, Kirishima strolled into the kitchen. “Man, I’m starving. What’s cooking?”

”Nothing for you.” Katsuki said, watching the breaded pork fry.

”For you? I thought you hated Katsudon.” Kirishima stated. “Oh, my word. Are you making it for-“

”Can it. You told me to.”

Kirishima sat back on the kitchen counter. “Hey, he’s really sick, you know. Think he’ll eat it?”

”He has to.” Katsuki said as he flipped the pork over. “I’m making it for him.”

Kirishima giggled. “He probably will, but don’t make him barf.”

”Ew,” Katsuki flinched. “He won’t.” 

Kirishima folded his arms over his chest and watched Katsuki cooking. He was a complicated person, and Kiri took the time to debate what it is that makes him so, for lack of better words, weird.

”Tell me, Bakubro, what’s up with you and Midoriya? You two have been acting weird since like… well, since he got sick.” Kirishima asked.

Katsuki stilled. “Nothing.”

”That’s… not true.” Kirishima laughed. “Tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”

”Why the fuck ‘you asking all the questions today?” Katsuki asked, refusing to turn around.

”I don’t want you to keep things to yourself.” Kirishima said simply.

Katsuki took the pork from the pan and set it down on a plate. The rice should soon be cooked, and he only needed to make the sauce. “It’s.. complicated.” Katsuki decided. 

“Really? Like…” Kirishima began allusively.

”No.” There was a silence, a long and pained silence. “I’ll tell you another time. I’m busy now.” Katsuki said, too fed up with talking for the time being.

”Okay, man.” Kirishima shrugged, pushing himself off the counter. “But don’t bottle things up, it’s not good for you.”

”Yeah, whatever, weird-hair.” Katsuki said.

Kirishima grinned. “Enjoy cooking.”

Chapter Text

Izuku knocks the back of his head on the the floor as he slumps down. It sends a painful wave of aching through his brain, but he’s too weak to care. He should get up, it’s weird to lay on the floor at 2am, and yet he can’t move.

The sound of the tap bursting with water keeps him conscious. It spins around his head and worsens the throbbing in his brain. His skin is prickling with the cold and starry feeling you get before you pass out. If he opens his eyes, he can’t guarantee it won’t still be dark.

His main concern is if he’ll be able to wake before morning. Will people see him lying on the floor? Will he choke on his own sick and die in the night? Will Denki take a terrible picture of him before he’s up to stop him?

Izuku coughs, the force of it bouncing his chest up and down, body too weak in this state to handle himself.

The last Izuku had seen of Katsuki was when he gave him dinner. That was around six hours ago, and for the rest of the night Izuku was up in a fevered nightmare. The distance needed between them was shortening with each day - perhaps it was the constant distance that made the case more severe. Maybe it would have gotten better if he had stayed by Katsuki’s side from the start.

Now wasn’t a time for maybe’s.

He was sick, and getting sicker. Izuku could toughen up and tell Katsuki to sort himself out and sit with him more often, but he began to curate his own mangled sense of guilt. Katsuki didn’t want this as much as Izuku didn’t, they just didn’t want different things.

Izuzki didn’t want to have a fever, he didn’t want Katsuki to hate being around him, he didn’t want Katsuki to like others more than him. He didn’t want Katsuki to forget Izuku was first his favourite person, and he hasn’t changed at all. Izuku could still be his favourite person if he’d open his heart. Izuku didn’t want to feel these things.

And Katsuki didn’t want it, either. He didn’t want the stress and effort of opening and unloading a discarded past. He didn’t want to face his actions, accept he had done wrong. He didn’t want Izuku to look up to him too much. He didn’t want to deal with it all.

And thus, knowing this, Izuku developed a twisted guilt. He’d never be Katsuki’s favourite if he was begging for his presence. As kids, that’s all Izuku ever did - chase after him. From the way Katsuki speaks about it, it infuriated him.

Izuku didn’t want that. Katsuki doesn’t want that.

Izuku didn’t notice the tap turning off until his body was shaken awake. When he realised someone was speaking to him, he was flurried with an overwhelming embarrassment.

”Get up,” Izuku hears, a soft but forceful tone. “Deku.” He hears again, softer.

“Mh?” Izuku mumbles, shifting on the floor.

”Sit up. Come on, I can’t do all the work.” The voice asks, hand firm over Izuku’s shoulder. It was a tight grip that contrasted the soft tone. A desperate grip.

Izuku takes a hand to his eyes and rubs them until he sees stars. He tries his very hardest to sit up, but his body is so weak he can’t do it. He found moving with broken bones easier than this lethargic, melancholic and fevered act.

”Oh gosh.” He mumbles to himself. His voice comes out croaky and hoarse. It hurts his throat to speak. When he opens his eyes, it’s completely dark. Maybe he didn’t open them? Maybe it’s just 2am.

Izuku feels two hands under his arms as he’s pulled roughly to a sitting position. The fast and fluid action makes his stomach turn, and he lets out a strangled sigh. “Ow,” he groans.

”Sorry.” The soft tone says. “You weren’t gettin’ up like I asked.”

”’S okay.” Izuku slurs. “I’m up.” He pulls his knees to his chest as he rests against the kitchen counter, placing his head on top of his bony knees. Sleep - or unconsciousness in some form - threatens him. “Night.” Izuku mumbles. “Thanks.”

”The fuck? You can’t sleep here.” The soft and growing angrier tone says. “Deku, get up. I’ll take you back to your dorm.”

”Deku?” Izuku mumbles as he repeats his nickname. “That you, Kacchan?” He says in his fevered demeanour. His smile is heard through his tone, even though his face is buried between his legs.

”Yeah. Get up.” Katsuki, now identified, asks. Or tells, he sounds like he’s telling Izuku.

”I can’t.” Izuku complains. “I’ll stay here, okay.”

Katsuki lets out an irritated sound. “No, idiot. Why are you doing this to me?”

Izuku sits up, head wobbling in it’s place. He flinches at the new found, though minimal, light and squints in Katsuki’s direction. He’s close. His hair is messy from sleeping, and he’s shirtless. Most evidently, however, is the angry face Katsuki is pulling.

”Doin’ this to you? Why are you doin’ this to me, huh?” Izuku slurs. It’s remarkable how long it’s taking for him to feel better in Katsuki’s company.

”Wha— don’t blame this on me. What the fuck are you doing in the kitchen at 2am?”

”Throwin’ up. ‘Cause you don’t talk to me.” Izuku mumbles, each word stringing with the next. His cheeks are hot and distracting. 

“Talk to you?” Katsuki asks quietly. He thinks. “You don’t talk to me. How am I meant to know what you’re feeling?”

Izuku scoffs, but he’s tired and weak and it sounds more like a choke. Maybe he is choking - maybe he’s crying. “Well, you don’t make it real easy. You’re always turning your nose up at me. ‘N shouting at me.” Izuku trails off, his words cleared the louder he spoke. His headache still throbbed.

Katsuki audibly gulps. “Well,” he tries to defend, but his points are all useless. Slowly, he thinks of what Kirishima told him earlier.

At least you feel bad. That means you’re not an asshole.

Does it? Katsuki feels the pit of guilt swallowing up his insides. Does that make it better? How could it? He’s doing wrong, so much wrong, and it can’t just be excused because he’s ‘sorry.’ Izuku is sick and weak and suffering, and he’s the only cause. Is it okay because he’s emotional? 

All you gotta do is tell Midoriya you’re sorry and he won’t mind much. It’s when you’re purposefully an asshole that people start to not forgive you.

How right could Kirishima be? “Deku, are you listening?” Katsuki confirms before he speaks. The small and messy head of hair before him nods a little, raising a hand to wipe his cheek. “Okay. I think I’ve been a little unfair these past few days.” He begins, and Izuku’s tired eyes widen. “I don’t mind your company, alright, so stop trying to beat this on your own. Like you said, that’s not how it works. So come and speak to me when you feel sick.”

Izuku, mindlessly tired and sick, nods his head. “Alright.” He lets out, the easiest word that comes to mind.

”Okay. Sorry.” Katsuki adds spontaneously. “I’m sorry, I mean.” 

“‘S okay, Kacchan.” Izuku sneezes. Katsuki feels a surge of emotion at the sound of his words. So easily forgiving. Katsuki’s a terrible person.

”Right. Well, I’ll take you to bed.” Katsuki says, pushing the, quite heavy, boy from the ground and wrapping Izuku’s arm around his shoulder. Izuku mutters some sounds of pain, but nothing serious.

He’s lead, or wobbled, to his dorm that Katsuki almost forgot the way to. There’s a small sign on the door that reads ‘Zuku’ in childish lettering. Katsuki thinks it’s silly.

The door opens with a click and Katsuki lets them in. The window is open, and the room is freezing. Izuku left it open to cool himself down in his fevered state.

”Kacchan, why didn’t you put a shirt on?” Izuku says as he’s placed on his All Might bed.

”I don’t usually dress up to get myself a late night drink.” Katsuki answers, standing up from the bed and looking to Izuku. “Why’d you leave your room?”

”I didn’t want to throw up on my merch.” He says simply, which elicits a laugh from Katsuki.

Izuku sinks into his own bed, over the covers and fully clothed. His hair, uncoordinated and sweaty, spills over and sticks to his forehead. His cheeks are a bright, alarming pink and his lips darken in his sick state. They part as they take in air, and Katsuki thinks he’s never seen someone look so good while looking so awful.

”You’re fucking gross.” Katsuki frowns, pushing Izuku to the centre of his bed. Izuku smiles softly.

”Kacchan.” He whispers, eyes slitting open. “Can you stay?”

Katsuki gulps. “Stay?”

”Somewhere. I feel terrible.” Izuku mumbles, pulling his sheets over his body. He shivers.

Katsuki walks over to the window and shuts it softly, pulling closed the curtains. There’s a scary silence in the room. Katsuki wishes he had the words to fill it.

When he returns to Izuku, he’s sleeping. Soft snores bouncing off the walls in the room. Katsuki takes a seat on the floor, back against the bed. It would be an uncomfortable night, but better than whatever Izuku was going through. He had to count himself lucky.

As he closed his eyes and lay his head back on the edge of Izuku’s bed, he hoped Izuku would feel better in the morning.

Class was combat and Izuku had been dreading it for the past five days. He wasn’t at his usual standard, and risks losing pretty hard. Especially since he wasn’t in such a state last night. He was lucky Katsuki helped him.

Lucky Katsuki helped him.

There’s a simple pause before Izuku feels his face flush. Oh my gosh, he was embarrassed. He was incapacitated. After eating a whole meal, his stomach began to turn. From there, he felt abnormally unwell. Everything about this was abnormal. He hated feeling so incapable. 

“Hey, Deku? Are you alright?” Ochako says. She lowers her tone incase there really was something wrong.

Izuku smiles but it’s wobbly and nervous. “Uh,” he tries to start.

”Oi, asshole.” A voice behind, loud and raspy and aggressive, calls. “Fight me.”

”Fight you?” Izuku jumps, spinning around. “Kacchan, what do you mean?” He asks with a nervous gait.

”Combat, idiot. Let’s fight.” Katsuki explains. He rests his gauntlet embellished hands on his hips and frowns through his mask. 

Izuku pulls a sour face. “I don’t want you to go too far. I’m not well.” 

Katsuki scoffs. “Yeah, friendly-fight. Sure thing.”

“I don’t think you have the capacity for a friendly-fight.” Izuku mutters.

”Fuck off.” Katsuki rolls his eyes. 

Aizawa speaks up over the voices of the students. He clears his throat and takes out a board. “Okay, quiet down. I’d like you all to tell me who you’ve paired with so I can take note. Use this as an opportunity to work against someone you’re not used to.”

Kirishima answers first, waving his arm in the air. “Me and Kaminari are going head to head!” He says, and the both of them exchange determined faces. They perform a complicated and stupid handshake. Izuku hears Katsuki sigh.

”Okay,” Aizawa says flatly. “The rest of you?”

Each and every team is informed to Aizawa as he notes down the pairs. When it comes to an end, he raises an eyebrow to Izuku. “Who are you sparring?”

”Uh,” Izuku gulps. “Kacchan.”

Mina gasps. “Willingly? What’s gotten into you?”

Izuku shrugs. “Could be… fun.”

”Fun? Boy, I’ve never found risking my life fun, bur suit yourself.” Sero giggles.

”Thats enough.” Aizawa groans. “Bakugo and Midoriya. That’s all. First to fight shall be Ochako and Iida.”

In the observatory room, Izuku rests on the back wall. His head doesn’t hurt and he doesn’t feel sick. Katsuki is standing next to him.

”That was stupid.” Katsuki says idly, watching the screen. “Four-eyes shouldn’t run that way. He’s running into her trap.” 

Izuku, agreeable but terrified, doesn’t say anything. Katsuki, next to him, casual and unbothered?

Something had to be wrong.

”Uh, Ashido is calling you over.” Izuku says unconvincingly.

”She is?” Katsuki looks over. “No she isn’t, she’s talking to weird-hair. Are you blind?”

Izuku laughs awkwardly. “No, no she was. She stopped like, as soon as you looked.”

Katsuki frowns at Izuku. “Are you stupid? Is the fever messing with your fuckin’ head?”

Izuku thinks over his actions. His thoughts and feelings and fears. “Why are you with me?” He asks finally, sighing the rest of his confusion away.

”I don’t want you sick for our fight. Then it’ll be too easy, and I won’t look strong.” Katsuki says. It’s nice, kind of, but the sad truth is he’s definitely not lying.

”I won’t get ill if you just go over there.” Izuku counteracts.

”What’s the fucking problem? I’m not poisonous.” Katsuki spits, folding his arms over his chest.

”I know.” Izuku says quietly. He directs his focus to the fight. Ochako, wonderfully, is winning.

”Then what? You going mad?” Katsuki asks unkindly.

Izuku only shrugs. He could tell Katsuki how embarrassed he was about last night, how awkward he finds their interactions, how nervous he was for their fight, how upset he is they aren’t friends. But that’s too much, and the sour look on Katsuki’s face suggests he doesn’t care, either.

Katsuki quickly drops it. On the screen, Ochako jumps up and down as she finally wins the match. The goal was to either incapacitate your opponent or push them out of the border, and Iida lay on his back, inches out of the ring. Ochako had thrown (or, floated) large mounds of rubble at Iida and slowly pushed him back. In his focused state, he ignored how far he was turning back.

Not a violent fight, but a satisfying one.

When the two eventually returned to the room, they were pleased. One more pleased than the other.

Katsuki starts to speak. ”Do you think-“

”Uraraka! That was really good!” Izuku says before he registers Katsuki was speaking to him. He pushes himself off the wall and runs over to her. “And Iida, you were so strategic! You didn’t get hit once!”

Katsuki scoffs in his lonely state. It was weird, Izuku ignoring him. He wasn’t quite used to it. But it didn’t bother him, of course. Nothing ever did.

”What’s that look for?” Kirishima asks as he slides beside Katsuki, implying he was very much bothered.

“Can it, asshole.” Katsuki mutters.

Kirishima doesn’t answer that. He looks between Katsuki and the growing distance of Izuku and hums. And all-knowing hum. A smug hum.

”What?” Katsuki spits.

“You and uh, Midoriya? Sparring?” Kirishima asks, suppressing a smile.

”What about it?”

”Nothing. Just, uh, you hanging out, too?” Kirishima pushes further, smile seeping into his tone rather than his face. Katsuki didn’t know what was worse.

”Not hanging out. If you call standing next to each other hanging out you’re seriously fucking sad.” Katsuki scoffs, tightening his arms over his chest defensively. He had taken off his gauntlets a while ago and placed them by the door.

”For you two, it’s revolutionary.”

Katsuki shuts his mouth and turns away. Izuku is jumping up with balled fists singing about how marvellous Ochako and Iida’s match was. He’s in his element, buzzing about quirks and combat.

He looks like he did some years ago, yelling at the TV screen as All Might saves another person. Izuku had always been so excited, much more vocal than Katsuki. He’d tear up and scream and run around like an idiot, and Katsuki would scoff and say he never expected less.

Izuku, in their prime friendship, would hug Katsuki and say ‘All Might is amazing’ and Katsuki, with his small arms, would shove him off and say ‘calm down, ‘Zuku.’

Katsuki pulls himself out of his nostalgic memories. Kirishima is stifling a laugh and Katsuki couldn’t be more furious. “What?”

”Now you’re watching him? Bakubro, as your friend, you can tell me. How down bad are you?” 

Katsuki flushes immediately, throwing his arms down to his sides and yelling. “Are you fucking serious? Say those kind of things to me again and I’ll put a bomb in your bed!”

Kirishima laughs as people begin to watch them. “Man, I’m only kidding. But if you ever—“

”There’s no but, asshole! Take that fuckin’ idea and burn it. You’ve lost your whole mind.”

The class, slowly quieting, squint at the raged Katsuki. Aizawa frowns and pulls out his clipboard. “Bakugo and Midoriya, you can spar next.” He says, adamant to get rid of them.

”Good.” Katsuki huffs. “Move it, asshole. Say goodbye to your friends ‘cause you’re not making it out alive.” He says temperamentally, trudging out the door after snatching his gauntlets.

”What? Kacchan, you can’t say things like that!” Izuku yelps. What happened to friendly-fight?

As Izuku starts out the door, Kirishima stops him. He’s smiling. “Sorry, man. That’s my fault. I antagonised him.”

Izuku flinches. “Huh? What did you say to him to make him angry at me?” He asks earnestly, tone that of simple confusion.

”Well— nothing.” Kirishima makes an awkward face. “Just, blame me if he goes a lil’ crazy. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Izuku sighs, face contorting into despair. “But now I’m scared.”

”Good luck!” Kirishima calls as Izuku leaves the room. “You’ve got it!”

Izuku does not think he has ‘got it.’

It’s a simple arena. A large boxed shape marked out with white paint. Goal? Knock down your opponent or push them from the box. Just like the sports festival.

Only, seven meters away, Izuku feels sick. And Katsuki has a demonising look on his face that makes Izuku feel worse. “Hey, Kacchan? Remember a friendly-fight?” Izuku calls, his last chance at mercy.

”You said it yourself, Deku.” Katsuki yells back. “I don’t have the capacity for friendly.”

Izuku groans. He expected nothing less.

With weary stance, Izuku fills his body with the power of One for All. He doesn’t attack first, knowing that despite what he’d do, Katsuki would attack first, and therefore he may as well wait for him.

Katsuki comes quick, blasting his blind spot until he’s propelled toward Izuku. Izuku jumps at the last minute, up and out of the way, but Katsuki thought he’d do that. He spins mid air and flames upward until Izuku falls down. Harsh, maybe, but he knows Izuku well enough to know a little fall wouldn’t hurt him.

Izuku gets up. He doesn’t have the time to brush himself off before Katsuki is before him again, open palm glittering with sparks. He swings and Izuku dodges. Izuku bares his teeth and punches back, landing a hit on Katsuki’s shoulder. It’s weaker than usual, but powered with the strength of One for All.

Katsuki aims and explosion toward Izuku, and this time he ducks. Below the explosion he strategises. In his state, it would be impossible to overpower Katsuki, therefore he needs to push Katsuki out of the ring. His best course of action is to rile Katsuki up until he looses regard for the border and grows reckless, making it easy to coax him out.

Or Izuku could forfeit, however that would probably enrage Katsuki, and so he doesn’t dare.

Defence is Izuku’s course of action, and as he slips away from Katsuki’s firing range time and time again, his opponent grows irritated.

”Fight me, Deku, I picked you for a reason.” Katsuki yells over his own explosion as Izuku jumps away yet again.

”No can do!” Izuku calls, spitting past him.

Katsuki pauses. Izuku is far from him and unlikely to attack. He heaves heavy breaths and spurs on the ground. “Don’t make me win in such a shitty way. There’s no point in winning if there wasn’t a challenge.”

Izuku rolls his eyes. It’s noticeable despite the distance. “Like this is worse for you than it is for me.”

”What’s that mean, asshole?”

Izuku lets his guard down, taking in desperate air. He could throw up if he felt like it. His head pounded and stomach turned. “Like I’m taking away some perfect victory for you. I didn’t want to do this! You asked me to. You asked and this is what you’re getting so accept it!”

”But I know you can do better, so fight me properly.” Katsuki spat.

”Maybe if I wasn’t sick! Maybe if I didn’t have some stupid fever!” Izuku raises his voice, irritated that Katsuki was being so difficult.

”You’re not that sick! You’ve fought with broken bones so get over it!” Katsuki shouts back.

”I don’t know where you get the nerve. You put me in this position and now you’re angry I’m not dealing with it in the way you want me to.” 

“I didn’t make you sick.”

”But you made me worse. It’s your fault I can’t fight today, so take my defence or get over yourself.” Izuku thinks about what the others would be thinking watching them. It’s hard to make out voices, and therefore they’re probably confused on what’s so heated.

Katsuki, surprisingly, doesn’t answer. He walks forward slowly, and then faster, and then he runs. He launches into the air and aims an explosion directly toward Izuku. “Don’t dodge!” Katsuki yells.

Izuku doesn’t. He waits, surging up his body. And when Katsuki is close, he strikes him across the face. The force of the punch combined with Katsuki’s incredible speed sends him flying across the arena. Not out, though, and Izuku watches him from the corner of his eye.

Katsuki struggles his way up. Once standing on unsteady footing, he begins taking off his gauntlets. Izuku jumps.

”Wanna play dirty, then? Fine. I’ll fucking fight you.” Katsuki spits blood on the concrete. He doesn’t break his gaze away from Izuku.

”Kacchan, get over yourself. You don’t have to take everything so seriously, we can fight casually.” Izuku pleads.

”Casual, huh? You think I could be casual? You’re an idiot.” Katsuki says, discarding his second gauntlet.

”Kacchan. You’re so stupid.” Izuku chides. He freezes when Katsuki begins to walk to him. “What’s gotten into you? What did Kirishima even say to you?”

If Katsuki is bothered by the comment, he doesn’t show it. “No quirks, no gadgets. Fist to fist, and I’ll beat you in the game you wanna play.”

”I don’t want to play this, Kacchan. I want to give up.” Izuku says, backing closer and closer to the arena line. 

“You threw the first punch. Finish what you started.”

”I threw a punch because we’re sparring, not to beat you up. Just cut me some slack, Kacchan, I’m sick!”

Katsuki stops before Izuku, inches from the edge. Izuku doesn’t step out. Katsuki stares at the painted while line, then to Izuku.

”You’re not a quitter.” Katsuki says, noting the absence of exit. “And you’re not too sick to fight. I’ve seen you broken and bloody and dying, and yet throwing punches like it’s not killing you. Get over yourself and fight me, or I’ll make sure you’re never better again.”

Izuku gulps. Unfortunately, Katsuki is right. Izuku’s felt worse and fought harder. The sickness couldn’t stop him if he tried.

What draws Izuku away from Katsuki is fear he’ll fight too hard. There’s pent up rage and irritation and jealousy and it’s bound to strike an irrevocable cord that takes it a step too far.

Izuku balls his fists. ”You’re a jerk, Kacchan.”

”Stop spittin’ and start fighting. I’ll let you throw the second punch.” Katsuki says, lips forming into a wicked grin.

That stupid smile and sickening tone is what drives Izuku’s throw. He lunges his arm at Katsuki’s head, striking his cheek and sending him reeling backward. No quirk, no gadgets. The full force of Izuku’s personal strength. It’s impressive. It’s shocking.

Katsuki doesn’t like it. He swings, harder, but Izuku ducks out of the way. He slips beside Katsuki and places himself further from the exit. Katsuki spins. “Running again?”

”I’m winning, that’s what.” Izuku remarks, swinging again. He misses and Katsuki strikes him in the stomach. Izuku feels bile rising up his throat but swallows hard enough to repress it. He gulps and staggers forward. Katsuki punches him to the floor.

”Winning, huh?” Katsuki mocks as Izuku scrambles. Izuku swings his leg and knocks Katsuki down. They tangle together. A mess of rage and motivation.

A loud and tired voice is heard over the speakers. “Bakugo, Midoriya, I’m calling your fight off. Please leave the arena.”

Like hell they would.

Izuku swings and knocks Katsuki in the face, feeling the force of his knuckles on Katsuki’s jaw. Katsuki spits, a gross combination of saliva and blood, and is shocked as his body is flipped over. His back smacks against the concrete and Izuku topples over him, striking his jaw again. There’s little time to feel bad.

”Fuck you, Deku.” Katsuki spits out, hands clasped around Izuku’s arms and trying to shove him off.

”Fuck you, jerk. You’re so mean.” Izuku combats, trying to free his arms from Katsuki’s insane grip.

”I’m not mean, you’re just fuckin’ sensitive.” Katsuki finally swings Izuku over and hears his head bash against the concrete. “Not so sick now, huh?”

”Probably,” Izuku slurs, flailing his arms above him. “Because you’re on top of me.”

Katsuki strikes Izuku in the face, smearing blood from his knuckle over his cheek. “Don’t get fuckin’ smart.”

Izuku feels his stomach turn. Maybe from the fever, maybe from being punched. He pulls a contorted face. For a moment, he stops resisting, body aching and breath shortening. Katsuki feels the way his body pauses, grip loosening on Katsuki’s arms.

In that moment, there’s a bout of guilt.

It’s passed over quickly as Izuku rises his knee to Katsuki’s stomach and jerks his leg up. Katsuki coughs and topples over. “Asshole!” Katsuki yells, ready to throw another punch. He, from his distant position, raises his fist. It’s a horrible angle, they’re both laying on the concrete, and his arm wobbles in the air. “Idiot, Deku. Why’d you have to be so…” Katsuki slurs.

Tight and painful rope contracts around both their bodies like a snake. It hoists them into the air and enunciates all the pain their bodies were in.

Aizawa, furious, stands behind them. His hair billows above his head, and his eyes radiate a certain rage.

”I told you to stop fighting.” He says through his teeth.

Izuku and Katsuki are dragged from the facility. Their bodies ache and are painted in each others blood. It’s disgusting and unbecoming.

And they’ve got a lot of explaining to do.

Chapter Text

It's cold in the medical room.

Recovery Girl isn't as comforting as she's made out to be, and her sly remarks put both Izuku and Katsuki on edge. She takes a wipe from a small box and takes it to Izuku's face. When he flinches, she frowns. "Hold still, boy." She demands. "You risk infection if you leave your lip split open."

The two of them were remarkably bruised. Katsuki was embellished with a worsening back eye and scuffed up face, bruise darkening on his shoulder from a hasty impact to the ground. Izuku's lip was busted open, and his nose occasionally bled. Recovery Girl refused to treat them with her quirk, insisting that if they wanted to make a stupid decision, they should deal with the consequences. Now the two of them were subject to old fashioned bandaging.

Katsuki, petulantly, refused help. Something about an 'I don't need it', but Izuku knew the real reason was because if he accepted help, that shows he was hurt - and Katsuki is never hurt. Izuku was fine with losing the fight, it meant more to Katsuki, anyway.

They were waiting for Aizawa. There was always something fear stirring about knowing he was coming - like opening an exam card, knowing you did awful. And he was fuming, too. If the muffled but loud calls of disapproval heard while they were being hoisted away from each other were any sign, they weren't in good favour. And they probably shouldn't be, either.

Recovery Girl sighs a long and pained sigh, the one she always saved for Izuku, as his nose trickles with blood. She shreds a paper towel from her basket and hands it to him silently. Izuku takes it, wiping away the blood. "What did you to do him?" Recovery Girl frowns at Katsuki. "You must learn to stop picking fights you can't win."

There's a pause of disbelief before Izuku can't help but bark out a laugh.

Katsuki is furious. "Can't win? Are you out of your mind? I destroyed that stupid asshole!" Katsuki yells, far too loud for the meek volume of the medical room.

"You are far more bruised than he is, Bakugo." She smirks. Perhaps she knows this will irritate him.

"Am I hell! That nerd is still bleeding! And it's been like an hour!"

"And yet he isn't bruised. You, however, are sporting a nasty mark on that eye of yours."

Katsuki gapes his mouth open before he coughs out a muffled profanity. Izuku giggles. "Don't worry, Kacchan. I think you won." He says supportively, but the grin on his face suggests he believes otherwise.

"Wipe that fuckin' smile from your face before I do it for you." Katsuki spits.

Izuku shrugs. While Recovery Girl wanders away to treat some other mishap, the two of them fall into tense silence. Katsuki is practically fizzing, ready to burst at any wrong word, while Izuku relaxes against the wall. "I must say, feeling pain is better than nausea. Maybe I should thank you."

"Maybe you should shut the fuck up."

Izuku scoffs, looking at Katsuki's back. "Classy." He retorts. They're sitting on a single bed that's long-side is pushed up against the wall. From where Izuku is leaning back, and Katsuki is pushing forward, he can see the tense raise of his shoulders. His leg, just reaching the floor, is bobbing up and down rapidly, shaking the whole bed. Katsuki gets twitchy when he thinks too hard about something.

"What's up?" Izuku asks casually, as if their friendship is in a position to open up. When Katsuki doesn't respond, he tries again. "Look, that fight was so out of the ordinary. Did I do something to make you wanna kill me, or is it the same old reason?"

Katsuki scoffs. "And what on earth is the same old reason?"

"I don't know," Izuku mutters. "That I don't- didn't have a quirk." Izuku lets out a breathy laugh. "Guess that really can't be much of a reason anymore."

"Guess so."

There's a breath of hesitation before Izuku connects dots. He frowns. "So there is a reason?" He asks suspiciously.

"No." Katsuki says quickly, irritably. "Why do I need a reason? Can't I just beat you up 'cause I feel like it?"

Izuku laughs. "Of course not."

Katsuki grunts, but his leg bobbing persists. Izuku thinks of his sudden rage in the observatory room, his furious gait as he marched out, and an apologetic Kirishima. Huh. "So, Kirishima riled you up and it's my fault?" Izuku says, delighting in the way Katsuki tenses and turns his head.

"Shut up." He says, with a lack of playful whimsy. His brows meet and he squints his eyes. Katsuki is actually angry.

"What? Can't I know? First you've got some stupid joke I can't be in on, and now I'm the butt of some unaddressed anger." Izuku mumbles, trying hard not to make his jealousy prevalent.

"You don't know what the hell you're talkin' about to quit it." Katsuki spits. He turns around again, calmer. 

Izuku wants to say something. He doesn't want to drop it. He doesn't like feeling so out of the loop. "Kacchan-"

"Okay, quiet." Aizawa demands as he bursts into the room. Recovery Girl and the boy she's treating startle. "I don't want a word out of you two until I've said my piece. What is wrong with you?" Aizawa says bluntly. It sounds like an invitation to answer, but they know better. Both of them look to the medical floor. "I mean, what goes through your brain when you do this? All the time? You both have too much going on and if you don't get ahold of yourself, it's going to start affecting other people."

There's quiet. "Why did you do this?" Aizawa asks. Nothing. "Bakugo, why did you do this?"

"I.. Don't know." Katsuki shrugs.

"You don't know. Well, isn't that a joy." Aizawa groans. He pinches the bridge of his nose with a temperamental impatience. "If you don't explain yourself before the clock strikes twelve, you'll have seven weeks of community service."

"Seven?" Katsuki scoffs.

"There's twenty seconds left."

Katsuki folds his arms over, and it's noticeable how he flinches. Izuku must have hit him hard. "Well," Katsuki begins, watching the tick of the clock. "Uh." What could he possibly say in this situation? What's normal? What's believable? "I just got a little fed up with bein' so close."

Aizawa nods slowly. "And Midoriya, why did you fight back? You were supposed to leave the arena."

Izuku rolls his eyes. "Because he says stuff like that." Now was not a time to hide how annoyed he was. Who gets away with saying things so mean? "Fed up with being close? Is the ten-foot pole you shove between us helping with our closeness."

"Leave it." Katsuki spits.

"Stop fighting." Aizawa says sternly. He sighs a long and tired sigh. "It's apparent Manami's quirk is having an affect on both of you, one not so positive. I'm not the best at.. counselling, so you'll have to sit around until I can find someone else. If you argue while I'm gone I won't hesitate to suspend you both. Recovery Girl," Aizawa calls over his shoulder. "Watch them while I'm gone, please."

He leaves with a temper and the room is silent again. Amongst the quiet, Recovery Girl checks out the boy she was attending to and leaves the room while she sees him out.

Izuku scoffs. "Close, huh? Do you really consider this close? Any of this?" He asks, sitting up to look at Katsuki.

"What about this isn't close? You're forced to follow me around like some fuckin' leech. I was annoyed when you willingly pestered me, but now you're forced to? Yeah, I find this real close." Katsuki says with a cold and offputting tone. Izuku feels like his whole stomach is sinking.

"Why do you have to be such a jerk?" Izuku frowns. "I mean, is it seriously impossible to be around me?" 

Katsuki turns with a new found rage. "Of course it is. You don't know what it's like, or what you're talking about. So, drop it. Seriously." He says. His breathing grows slightly irregular as he tries to calm himself.

Izuku doesn't have the capacity to say anything back. He chews his beat up lip nervously, thinking about what on earth he could possibly say to counteract that. He knew, of course, that things between them were rocky and strange, but a small part of him had always thought Katsuki didn't really mean it. He was a bully, sure, and impossibly difficult to be around - but he never went too far. He was rash and rude and obnoxious, but he spoke softly to Izuku's mother. And he was insulting and unkind, but he cooked Katsudon for Izuku when he was sick, and carried him to bed when he was too tired to move.

Izuku had always thought there was some small ember of hope, a glowing flame in the fire of their friendship. But maybe Katsuki had really meant it when he said they weren't friends. Maybe Izuku was holding onto nothing, fanning the flame of a cold fire. Maybe Izuku was waiting around a dark forest with a cold campfire, still hoping to feel heat. And Katsuki was out and away and onto better things, not thinking of it anymore.

Maybe Izuku was foolish. "So much for Katsudon." He mumbles, unaware of his doing so.

Katsuki was unapproachable for the next day, and while everyone eats their dinner around the common room table, he watches something on his phone in the corner of the living room.

"What's up with Bakugo? Doesn't he, like, love dinner? And Yaoyorozu made such a nice meal." Denki asks absentmindedly, shovelling rice into his mouth. "She even leaves out spices for him."

"I was thinking the same thing." Mina sighs. "Every since his wacko fight with Midoriya he's been so moody. I offered him some chips this morning before class and he shouted at me." She frowns, gulping down her cream soda.

Kirishima, sitting above his uneaten plate, looks a little more worried than the others. "What's up, man?" Denki asks him, noting the sullen look on his face.

"I don't know, but I think he's really going through something. I've tried speaking to him a few times but he won't budge. Maybe I should talk to him now."

"Eat first," Sero says. "I mean, don't go hungry just for Bakugo."

Kirishima shakes his head, pushing his chair back as he stands. "Nah, I'm not hungry. You can have my plate." He says, and he leaves before someone can talk him out of it. 

Katsuki is sitting uncomfortably on the sofa, scrolling through some Hero news article. He doesn't look up when Kirishima approaches him, even if he does see him. "Get up man!" Kirishima says encouragingly. "I wanna train in the garden with you!"

Katsuki puts his phone away, eyebrows knitting. "Train in the garden?" He squints.

"Yeah, so get up. I realised a few things I need to work on while sparring with Kaminari and you're just the guy to help."

Katsuki does, in fact, get up, despite the sour look on his face. "What the hell does that mean?" He asks as he follows Kirishima out of the dorm.

It's cold out, being nearly 7pm, and Katsuki doesn't have much on to protect himself from the chill. Kirishima leads them to a patch of grass outside the dormitory and widens his stance. "Come here!" Kirishima calls.

The cold and hesitant Katsuki walks down the dormitory stairs and into the grass with Kirishima. When he squints at him, Kirishima speaks. "Okay, I've realised I'm a lot better at defence than I am at attacking, so throw hands up Bakubro, I'm gonna practice!"

"You've pulled me out here to punch me. You know I'm already injured." Katsuki frowns.

"Chill, out, I'm not gonna punch you." Kirishima laughs. "Just slow easy practice. Put your arms up!" He grins.

Katsuki rolls his eyes and slowly raises his arms into a defensive position. Kirishima playfully throws punches, working more on precision that critical hitting. It's not hard, not even worth lookin up over, but he's not really working on his skills anyway.

"So, uh, some bruises, huh?" He begins his decent into interrogation.

"Don't bring it up." Katsuki says sharply.

"No, no, I'm not bringing anything up." Kirishima smiles awkwardly, throwing another faux punch. "I'm just saying, some fight. Felt a little... crazy."

Katsuki scoffs. "I don't fight un-crazy."

"Right." Kirishima nods. He waits a while longer before continuing. "So, bad day or what? I mean, the whole thing felt a little out-there. You were doing fine just sparring."

"I said don't bring it up." Katsuki says, ducking out of the way of a slightly faster punch.

"And I'm not!" Kirishima reassures. "Just seeing where you're at."

Katsuki frowns. "Whatever. Where I'm at." He repeats slowly.

"Yeah, like..." Kirishima thinks over his next words. "You're.. good?"

"I'm great."

"That's awesome." Kirishima smiles uneasily, throwing more soft punches. Katsuki continues to block them until he can't take it anymore. He pulls back, resting his balled fists at his side.

"Okay, what do you want from me? This has nothing to do with training, does it." Katsuki says sternly

Kirishima lets out an awkward, red-handed laugh. But after Katsuki doesn't falter, he gives in. "I'm worried about you, man." Kirshima sighs. "You've been acting weird for days. Quit wording around it and just tell me what's up."

Katsuki scoffs. He's offended, clearly, and he stalks back toward the dorms. Kirishima pushes in front of him, hands out and pleading. But when Katsuki carries on, he grabs his arm and pulls him down, seating them roughly on the steps. "Stop being such a child and tell me. What's the harm?" Kirishima says exasperatedly, and Katsuki opens his mouth. "And don't say there's nothing wrong, because your fatass didn't even eat dinner tonight." He interrupts, spelling Katsuki into silence.

"You're persistent." Katsuki says, looking away.

"So, what gives?" Kirishima asks. "Tell me straight up, no beating around the bush."

"Straight up?" Katsuki says, turning his head like it's a challenge. Kirishima nods. "Okay, well. About six days ago, Deku got hit by some quirk that means if he's far from me, he gets super sick. Like some fucked fever. And it's been hell. Not because I hate being around him, or because I'm scared, or nervous, or stupid, but because I..." Katsuki stops short, his stamina expiring. "I just can't, I guess. I don't know if I could explain."

Kirishima doesn't say anything for a moment, eyes wide in perplexation. He's shocked, most of all. "Wow, okay. That is definitely in the top one hundred things I didn't think you would say." There's another beat of silence, and Katsuki grows worried he's said too much. "So, what, like you have to hang out all day? That's tricky."

"Well, we should do, but I don't."

Kirishima frowns. "Why not?"

"I told you, I can't be around that asshole."

Kirishima cocks his head in simple confusion. "Why... not?" He says slowly, careful not to irritate Katsuki with his repetitive questions.

"Even if I could tell you, I wouldn't." Katsuki huffs.

"Some dynamic you guy's have got. Why'd you beat him up? Was it because of me?"

"Obviously not." Katsuki spits, response coming to him a little too quickly.

Kirishima smiles, looking out to the garden. "Just checking. You were pretty pissed after I said you-"

"Shut up."

Kirishima doesn't have to turn his head to know that Katsuki is flustered. His tone is laced with embarrassment. It almost feels nerve-wracking, looking to Katsuki, like Kirishima is about to find out something he shouldn't know. He can't help the grin that takes over his face as he turns his head to look at Katsuki.

He's looking away, arms folded defensively over his chest. But his head is turned a little too far to be normal, and Kirishima notices. "Bakugo," He starts slowly. "You don't, perhaps-"

"I said shut up. I could have said fuck off, so count yourself lucky." He sounds even more embarrassed.

Kirishima starts to laugh. "Come on, Bakubro, I'm not gonna tell anyone."

"There's nothing to tell, so get that twisted idea out of your head!" Katsuki yells, turning his head sharply. Oh, he's beet red.

"Oh my word, Bakugo! I can't believe this!" Kirishima marvels with astonished gasps. "You seriously have a cr-"

"Fuck off! You don't know a damn thing!" Katsuki spits harshly.

Kirishima feels the giddy laugh taking over his body. He curls over, barking out a stupid melody of disbelief. "This is amazing. Man, when I think you're getting predictable you go and do shit like this."

"Stop fuckin' laughing at me! It's not true!" Katsuki yells.

Kirishima stifles his giggling and wipes his watering eyes. Judging by the tone of Katsuki's voice and his angry scowl, he's not in the slightest bit pleased. "Don't worry, Bakubro, I'm not making fun of you. I'm shocked, is all."

"Stop acting like it's fuckin' true." Katsuki says quietly, a strange occurrence for him. "I don't think it is, anyway."

Kirishima too lowers his tone, careful with his words. "You don't?"

"I don't know. I'm not good at stupid shit like that." Katsuki rolls his eyes, picking up a small rock from the steps and throwing. "How would I know? If I... I don't know, felt a little more softly toward him."

Kirishima smiles. "There's no signs or indications, you just know."

"That's fuckin' stupid." Katsuki scoffs. "This ain't a romcom."

Kirshima laughs. "Sure, but.. It's true. Apologise to him, y'know - make things right, and then you can see how you feel."

Katsuki sighs. He stands, abruptly, and dusts off his pants. "Don't tell a soul. In fact, if you can find a way, forget I ever fuckin' spoke to you." He walks away, leaving an air of relief in his wake. Kirishima is pleased that Katsuki opened up to him.

Maybe Katsuki is, too.

Izuku's not hard to find. A flash of light bleeds from under his dorm door, indicating he's inside. It takes a while for Katsuki to find the courage to knock. He feels shaken, unable to talk and flustered with emotion. It was one thing to deal with how much he hated Izuku, and another for how much he didn't. He would never be able to understand how he felt. It surged in his stomach like a sinister mixture of repellant forces.

He knocks, twice.

The main light in Izuku's room flics on and shines through the crack on the bottom of the door. Muffled but legible, Katsuki hears a small "Uraraka?" It doesn't mix well with the storm inside him.

"The fuck would pink-cheeks be doing in your room at 9pm?" Katsuki asks when the door swings open. It's noticeable how quickly Izuku's face drops.

"I don't know, I just thought it was her." Izuku frowns, not pleased to be met with aggression. "Soft knocks."

"Whatever," Katsuki scoffs. "Let's go."

"Let's go?" Izuku jolts. "Where?"

"Just come, Deku." Katsuki groans, beginning to walk from the door. "And put a jacket on."

"Kacchan!" Izuku pleads, seeing him go. When Katsuki doesn't turn, he rolls his eyes. "Wait up!"

Katsuki was right, it's freezing. And dark, too. When they finally make it some way off the campus, Izuku stopped asking where they were going. A large part of him thought he was being taken away to get beaten up for good, Katsuki wanting to finish the job. But common sense would suggest he'd probably get expelled, and the one thing Katsuki wants more than Izuku dead is to be a hero. Which is a twisted comfort.

Katsuki didn't, despite his advice, wear a jacket. He had a tattered zip up hoodie that, previously belonging to his dad, was quite big for him. He stuffed his hands in the pockets that enveloped up to his wrists and tried not to look nervous. He didn't know what he was doing - but he knew that if he couldn't say sorry properly, he should probably do something nice, instead.

He felt sick, maybe sicker than Izuku, at the idea of being in... love. Even though he was sure it wasn't quite love. Extensive admiration, minor attraction, maybe a childish crush. But love was too far. Katsuki was okay to admitting to that. Though a crush is simply below him, he'd find a way to get around accepting it. Izuku was a likeable person. But for Katsuki, a boy as high profile as himself, to even begin to accept he felt anything near as love was damning. Izuku repulsed him, if nothing else. From a subjective point of view, Izuku was good looking, talented, strong, and overall a fine candidate for someone else's attraction. But to Katsuki, for Katsuki? The idea made him shudder.

It just wasn't possible that Katsuki could hate a person so much if he loved them. And that was the flag that armed the ship, the comfort and justification Katsuki held on to, the very reason he did not love Izuku.

"The beach?" Izuku questions as they come to a halt. Katsuki hadn't even realised he'd stopped.

"Oh, yeah." He says quietly. "We're going a bit further."

They hop down the battered steps and Izuku follows Katsuki along the shore. He grows irritated when his shoes start to dirt with sand, but he doesn't verbalise this. Katsuki doesn't seem irritated, anyway. He steps lightly along the sand, itching to ask where they're going. Maybe Katsuki will drown him, or feed him to a shark, or bury him in the sand.

"Okay, stop." Katsuki says suddenly. They pause at a rocky portion of the beach. There's a jagged stone cliffside and Katsuki rests on one of the larger rocks. "Don't just stand around, look up."

Above them is nothing, Izuku thinks as he squints to the sky. He finds himself slowly wandering to Katsuki's side, in case there's something to see from his point that Izuku is missing. "I don't get it."

Katsuki sighs. "There's lots of stars."

Izuku squints again. "Right," He says slowly. "But there always is."

"Not to the naked eye. It's too bright on campus or in town, so you can't see them. But it's dark enough down here." Katsuki says absentmindedly. Before Izuku questions the strange task of staring at the stars with no reason, he looks at them. They are bright, and it's been a while since Izuku watched them.

"Look at that one," Izuku says, craning his arm up and pointing at, seemingly, nothing. "It's so bright."

Katsuki makes out the brighter star and shrugs. "It's like me. You can be that dim one next to it." He scoffs.

"The star isn't dim, Kacchan, it's normal. It just looks dim because the bright one is so bright." Izuku retorts. For a moment, the words are just words. Until they're not. "Maybe they are us, then."

Katsuki frowns, but there's nothing to say. Izuku had always thought Katsuki was brighter than him. In the silence, Katsuki realises he now has to say sorry, and even though Izuku isn't asking, he's probably confused on what he's doing on the beach at 9pm.

"So, uh," Katsuki starts, digging his shoe into the sand while he talks. "Is your nose still bleeding?"

"Sometimes it does." Izuku says, grasping what the reason for all of this was. "But Recovery Girl said that's normal, and it will probably stop soon."

Katsuki hums. "And, uh, are you still sick?"

"Yeah." Izuku sighs. "It's a real pain, but I guess you're never too far, y'know? I just feel a little nauseous and off balance, but it's not deadly." He laughs awkwardly, as if it's all normal. As if it's okay that he feels nauseous and off balance and feverish. As if it's not completely Katsuki's fault he feels that way.

"Right," Katsuki says, staring out into the sea. It twinkles at this time, stealing light from the moon and washing it over the surface. "Well, I guess I should say sorry for beating you up. I don't know why- or, well, I think it was dumb of me."

Izuku hums. "Don't worry, Kacchan. Sometimes thing's get a little confusing and you don't know how to get your frustrations out, which is fine. I guess I'm glad you flipped out on me and not some random, y'know? Or gosh, a classmate." Izuku rambles, laughing a little to ease the situation. He meant what he said, really, but only for Katsuki. He'd never been good at letting people know how he feels, and though being beaten up isn't desirable, Izuku understands that Katsuki's just a little messed up like that. "And anyway, I'm not bitter about how you feel toward the situation. If I were you, I'd probably be going a little crazy, too. I mean, to sit with me all day would be-"

"No," Katsuki interrupts. "I didn't mean that. I just wanted something to say to Aizawa before he had me pickin' up trash for a semester."

Izuku hesitates, and then he laughs. "He probably meant that, too."

"Yeah, so I had to think fast." Katsuki shrugs.

There's a tense silence that follows. The slow and sultry waves that crawl on the shore take up most of the sound. It's a lulling and repetitive sound. Izuku feels tired, yawning and stealing Katsuki's attention. Katsuki knows Izuku wants to say more, knows he wants to ask why'd you do it, then? But he doesn't. He hums in his position, watching the sea and the stars and the sand and doesn't ask. It's not right.

"Don't you care? For why I did it? I mean I was damn near ready to kill you, and you're not gonna ask why?" Katsuki asks, exasperated. 

Izuku pulls a puzzled face. "I guess not. I don't want you to tell me if you don't want to."

"What the fuck? That's not normal! You're supposed to beg me for answers, idiot." Katsuki raises his voice, almost pulling at his hair.

Izuku wanted to laugh, but instead he smiles. "Look, Kacchan, if that fight was anything to go off of, you've got a lot going on. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, is all I'm saying. And anyway, that fight was good for me, maybe. I've learnt it's important not to fight on the floor, it makes things a lot harder."

Izuku giggles and Katsuki feels a sensation enveloping his body. It's slow but gradual, and he feels it warm the skin on his neck, then to his face, then to his ears. It's tingly, and when Izuku laughs it's worse. When Katsuki looks at the soft parting of his messy hair, and his cheeks dusted in freckles, or the small but evident dimples on his cold and rosy cheeks, it's awful. Katsuki gulps, and it's thick and tense and hard to swallow. This is hard to swallow. Accepting that Izuku looks magnificent in the pale moonlight is hard to swallow. Understanding that Izuku is the kindest person he knows, who understands him deeper than anyone is hard to swallow. Coming to terms with the fact that the boy you hate the most isn't possibly hateable is hard to swallow.

Love is hard to swallow, and Katsuki feels it. Kirishima was right, there's no indication, just plain old sappy feelings.

And when Izuku yawns and pushes himself from the rock, Katsuki knows he has it bad.

And it's only going to get worse.

Chapter Text

Realisation has a wider effect than one might think.

Usually, Katsuki would find Izuku’s very presence in a classroom infuriating. If it wasn’t the way he spoke, it was the way he wrote with his pen, or mumbled behind him, or breathed. Katsuki had to avoid looking at him otherwise he's come out with something crude and horrible. But now, as if his life had been flipped, Katsuki couldn't look at Izuku or else his face would flush, and he'd stutter out something stupid. He felt like an idiot - with the way his heart raced and skin burned around him. This kind of sensation was everything Katsuki had lived to despise. And here he was, tripping over himself.

At lunch, he couldn't eat. He was in a perpetual state of embarrassment that made his stomach turn every time he considered that he might be in...

Another wave of shock. Gosh, he hated himself.

"Are you gonna get that?" Kirishima asks, peering over Katsuki's shoulder in the cafeteria.

"What?"

"You've been staring at the kimchi for, like, three minutes." Kirishima squints. "Are you going to grab a tray?"

"No," Katsuki says. "Maybe a soda." He shrugs, and walks away from the situation. There's a vending machine just outside of the lunch line, and Katsuki punches coins into it, clicking the appropriate buttons for a sprite. Kirishima comes back while he's waiting for the machine to spit it out, holding a tray of food.

"Sprite?" Kirishima notes, unsure of what else to say. "Nice... choice." He comments, watching Katsuki frown at the green can in his hands. "Are you, like, okay?"

"Yes." Katsuki murmurs, directing them to a booth.

"Okay," Kirishima frowns, sliding into his chair and resting his arms on the table. "Did something happen? Or are you just.." Kirishima begins, hoping Katsuki would finish.

Katsuki, cracking open his can, finally looks at Kirishima. "I'm fine you damn idiot." Katsuki scoffs. "Just got a lot to think about. 'Sure you don't now what it's like, being stupid and all." 

Kirishima, weirdly, smiles in relief. "There you are. I was wondering what was up." He says, noting Katsuki's return to character. After a large bite of breaded chicken, he talks. "How are you feeling about- oh, speak of the devil. Hey, Midoriya!"

"What?" Katsuki stills.

Izuku walks over to the side of the booth, but soon his face falls. "Is Kaminari not with you?" He asks. Katsuki feels his stomach churn at the idea that Izuku would be visiting his table for someone other than him. "Sorry, hello guys! It's rude of me not to say hi, but I was looking for Kaminari."

"I think him and the others are watching Jiro play some instruments. You could find them in the classroom, I think." Kirishima offers.

It's noticeable how Katsuki doesn't speak.

"Okay, well thanks for your help! I promised him I'd help him with his English, but I guess he's busy right now." Izuku shrugs complacently. "You haven't seen Uraraka or Iida anywhere, have you? I fainty remember them saying they had something to do but I forgot what."

Kirishima shrugs. "It's beyond me. But, hey, if you don't have anything to do don't worry about crashin' here!" He smiles, even sliding up in the booth. The look he receives from Katsuki is deadly.

"Really? You don't mind, Kacchan?" Izuku checks. Katsuki doesn't even look at him. He shrugs. "Okay, well thanks!"

Izuku sits beside Kirishima and basks in the awkwardness of the silence. Kirishima is eating, unable to talk, and Katsuki is staring out into the lunch hall. His gaze is fixed and frowning. When Kirishima swallows, he speaks. "Not having anything to eat, Midoriya?" He asks.

Izuku laughs. "Oh, no. I ate with Uraraka in one of our free periods earlier. There's a nice stall just outside the campus that sells the mochi she really likes, but they also do nice street food."

"Cool, man! Do you guys go often?" Kirishima intruiges.

"Well, usually she goes with one of the girls, but sometimes I get taken along." Izuku smiles. "It'd actually quite nice."

Katsuki, if only for a second, looks up.

"So, uh, got any plans for the rest of the week? I don't, it's making me miserable." Kirishima asks to continue the flow of conversation. He and Izuku actually got along quite well, but the soul-sucking awkwardness Katsuki is bringing to the table makes it harder to talk.

"Not really. Sometimes me and the others go to Musutafu city, but I don't think there's anything I really need to do there this week." Izuku frowns, thinking over his plans. "I guess I told my mom I would call her tomorrow.." He says idly.

Kirishima laughs. "You call your mom often, don't you?"

"Not really," Izuku thinks, cocking his head. "I aim for once every two weeks. Otherwise I don't have enough to tell her in one sitting."

"Once every two weeks? That can't be right, I see you on the phone all the time." Kirishima notes, shoving pork into his mouth.

Izuku thinks, fingers curling over his chin. "On the phone all the time..." Izuku repeats, before it hits him. "Oh, right! I speak to Rody a lot on the phone, maybe that's what you're thinking of?"

Kirishima nods. "Oh yeah, probably. Hey, how is that guy, anyway?"

"Rody's good. He's studying to be a pilot, so he's kinds busy nowadays - but he told me he'd call sometime soon, so, that's nice." Izuku smiles complacently. He looks at Katsuki before him who is, now, frowning in his direction.

"Who the fuck is Rody?" He asks bluntly.

"Kacchan," Izuku sighs. "You've met him, in Otheon?" He reminds.

”Where?”

”Europe.” Izuku frowns.

Katsuki clicks his tongue and goes back to observing the student body. He’s not particularly interested in them much, but he needs something else to look at. Something other than Izuku’s rosy cheeks or simple smile.

”Some plans, man.” Kirishima shrugs. “I know the girls are going to Hosu on Saturday, but other than that, I think everyone’s got a pretty lame week.”

”Well,” Izuku sighs. “We should probably be working, anyway.”

Kirishima groans. “Probably.”

In the afternoon, Mic is not as tired as the students. He yells, fingers pointed to the ceiling, and grins. “English, yahoo! We have a lot to go through!”

There's a communal sigh amongst the students as he whips out a chalk, writing various English phrases along the board. They're instructed to copy and translate.

Izuku watches the back of Katsuki's head. There's so much brewing between them that he doesn't know what to think while looking at him. There's such a black and white attitude from Katsuki where Izuku can't tell if they're becoming friends, or he's still on Katsuki's death list. He sighs, but there's something he has to do, anyway. While the chatter in the room begins to pick up, Izuku taps Katsuki's shoulder. There's a long hesitation before Katsuki whips his head round, eyes transfixed somewhere or other.

"What, nerd?" He asks quietly.

"Can I ask you a favour?"

"You can ask." Katsuki says vaugely.

Izuku clears his throat to better his whispering. "Well, I've got a tone of work to do later, and I'm really struggling to do it with such a headache... so, if you're not busy, will you sit with me?"

Katsuki doesn't speak, keeping his head firm in it's space turned over his shoulder. "When?"

"Some point today."

Katsuki frowns. It's hard to see, but he does. "Fine." He mutters, whipping his head back to front facing. Izuku would have thanked him if he weren't stuck on a small detail. Were Katsuki's cheeks pink?

He opens his mouth.

"Midoriya!" Mic yells over his shoulder, snapping Izuku's mouth shut. "You haven't done anything! Hurry up!" Mic chides playfully.

"Sorry, Sir!"

After dinner, and usually Katsuki's bedtime, the two are seated on a small common room table. At this time in the evening, and most of the reason Katsuki leaves so early, people are up and busy. If it's not Mina and Jiro having a karaoke competition, it's Denki and Kirishima trying to learn a new loud handshake. Or Sero and Shoto debating some twisted conspiracy that Shoto believes in far more deeply than Sero does.

Izuku doesn't mind the noise, but Katsuki does.

"This place is giving me a headache." He groans through his arm, head resting over it on the table. "Did we trade?"

"Go to bed if you really want, Kacchan." Izuku prompts. "I was supposed to work earlier, but I spent so long training, and it got too late." Izuku smiles over his laptop screen. He's busy with something, but Katsuki hadn't cared to know what. He hadn't cared to look at Izuku, either. It was safer closer to the table, where his green hair and freckled cheeks weren't visible to make his face burn.

"Whatever."

"Please, Kacchan. Go if you're tired." Izuku says polietly, fingers bashing into his keyboard. "I don't mind at all."

"It's fine, idiot. I don't care."

There's a pause, and then a sigh of relief. "Okay, good. I was really hoping you wouldn't go."

Katsuki sits up, somehow offended now. "If you don't want me to go, why'd you ask me to?" He says though a sour frown.

"I don't know. Just because I want something doesn't make it right. Maybe it's more important you get some sleep, rather than me finish this assignment." He shrugs. From this angle, Katsuki can see the tired look in his eye from training, the fading but noticeable mark on his lip from where he'd punched him, the messed up mop of his hair. Despite how awful he looked, Katsuki still found himself staring.

When Izuku looks up, he flinches. "What's up?" He says cautiously, remarking the way Katsuki watched him.

"You look really ugly." He spits, afraid if he waited a moment longer, he'd say something he'd regret.

Izuku rolls his eyes, but he doesn't seem displeased. Amused, maybe. "Thanks, Kacchan."

Over the next ten minutes, Katsuki grows more irritable. All he can hear are the sounds of Mina's singing and the awful frying of oil at the hands of Denki. He hates the overcrowded, unnecessarily noisy areas. It makes him tense and tempermental. Furthermore, Izuku continues to make frustrated noises at the very rim of his laptop, stirring an impateince in him. He snaps when Izuku groans at the screen.

"What the fuck is so damn difficult?" He spits.

Izuku jumps, wary smile on his lips. "Sorry, Kacchan."

"I don't care if you're sorry, what are you doing?" Katsuki groans, sliding the beaten laptop over to face him. It's a series of maths equations that Izuku is a third of the way through. They're difficult, and Katsuki can only assume that's the reason he needed Katsuki around to nullify his headache. "Maths?"

"Clearly."

Katsuki rolls his eyes and studies the question Izuku can't grasp. He follows along with his messy workings, putting a finger up when Izuku begins to explain. "You made a dumb mistake and swapped the equasion around at the start. The rest of the work is right you just started wrong."

"Oh," Izuku furrows his brow, "really?" He slides his laptop back to himself and squints at the screen. "Oh, man, you're right."

"Obviously."

Izuku turns back to working in silence. There's a therapeutic and rhythmic tapping of keys as he works. It seems to drown out all of Katsuki's former irritations - or is it not the sound. Is it rather the soft and slight way Izuku bites his lip as he focuses. The steady breathing as he types. Is it the dusted blush on his face from watching a screen too long, or the small turning of his head as he gets stuck. Izuku is, above all else, simply beautiful within anything he does. Whether he's fresh out of the shower, or dirty and bloody in the ground, he has a remarkable ability of making himself attractive.

That's possibly why so many people are into him. Katsuki tends not to think about it, because it's not something he cares much about, but Izuku is rather popular. If it's not Ochako in their first few months of school, it's the psycho, blood-sucking villain from before, or the girls that know him from the sports festival, or the people in the lower classes. Or the random's from Europe that Katsuki refuses to admit he remembers.

Izuku is often oblivious to his appeal. He tends to have flirtatious comments fly over his head like a stray feather, and ends up saying something innocent back. He's been much better at attracting people than maintaining them, and Katsuki hopes his tricks are working on him too. He hopes it's not love, and he's just fooled by the softness of his hair, or the freckles on his cheeks. He hopes that he, like the rest of them, will snap out of it eventually.

But he hasn't. Not yet.

"Do I really look that bad?" Izuku frowns, face illuminated by the screen.

"What?"

"You're staring at me. Do I actually look ridiculous like you said?"

Katsuki falters. "Uh, totally. Real mess." He coughs. "You look like a fuckin' insect."

"Kacchan," Izuku sighs. "There's kinder ways to tell people they look a mess."

Katsuki shrugs. "Fix your, uh, hair."

"You think?" Izuku asks, clicking a few buttons and brushing through his hair before his laptop - presumably, looking at himself in a camera. "Oh, wow, my hair does look awful."

Katsuki wants to say it doesn't. He wants to say it's wonderful and incredible and he's shocked that something so riled could look that good. He wants to reach out his hand and touch it, misplacing locks of soft, dark hair.

It's only when Izuku flinches that he realises he's an idiot.

"Takin' matters into your own hands?" Izuku smirks, softly grabbing Katsuki's wrist and slowly moving his hand away.

"You, uh, you were missing a huge knot - so I'm, just, I don't know. Helping?" Katsuki sputters, putting his hand safely in his lap. It takes a lot for Izuku not to burst out laughing.

"Oh, my goodness. You have that same look on your face from a few days ago. When I was asking you about that stupid joke? You're so embarrassed." Izuku grins. "Gosh, I never see this side of you."

Katsuki scoffs. "Don't get used to it."

"What up, huh? I appreciate you fixing my hair."

"Fuck off, asshole." Katsuki defends, sinking a little in his chair. Even he feels his cheeks flaring.

"Okay, I'll drop it." Izuku says, steadily reminded of the last time he tried to make fun of Katsuki. That wonderful time Katsuki said they weren't friends.

Katsuki looks up after a while, noting the way Izuku continues to flick his hair about. There's a soft and calm atmosphere between them. Katsuki doesn't feel scared to be honest. Not that he ever really did with Izuku, but now he feels okay with himself.

"It looks fine, I was lying." Katsuki says quietly.

Izuku perks up. "It does?"

"Yeah - if anything, you're messin' it up now."

Izuku wants to say something, but he fears he might turn the course of the situation. He smiles instead. An earnest smile. "Thanks."

Katsuki shrugs.

Like a sailor dragging up the rope of his anchor, Izuku reaches to find something else to say to keep their conversation soft. Katsuki is never so kind, it would be foolish to waste a perfect moment. But, suprisingly, Katsuki is the one to hoist up the anchor. "So, is it bad, still? Your sickness?" He asks simply.

Izuku feels at a loss for words. He gulps. "Yeah." He says, failing the attempt at being calm about it. He intended to lie.

"Really? Fuckin' bitch and her stupid quirk. You know, you're dumb for bein' in the way, obviously - but she's even more bent for pulling such a stupid move." Katsuki complains. "How on earth would that have worked? Jumping like a stray monkey."

Izuku, within the comfort of Katsuki's madness, laughs. "I guess so. It could have worked, though."

"How?"

"Well, Yuto had a pretty good quirk for close range, and it would have been impossible for her quirk to be successful against him unless she snuck up on him." Izuku starts, words growing faster as he began to explain. "So she had to do something crazy like jump on him while he was distracted, otherwise she didn't stand a chance."

"Didn't have to be so damn reckless. though."

"Well," Izuku smirks. "I know someone similar."

"Yourself?" Katsuki combats.

"You're more reckless than I am."

Katsuki scoffs. "Like hell I am."

"Of course you are! You're always running around on your own." Izuku giggles. "It's stupid."

Katsuki frowns, but the typical malice against being criticised isn't found. "Well you're always breaking bones, that's stupid."

"It's for the greater good." Izuku rolls his eyes playfully.

"I think it's stupid." Katsuki huffs, remarkable emphasis on the I. As if it's personal - as if he cares. As if he's thought about this before.

Izuku looks at him a little softer than before. "You-" He's cut short with a ringing from his laptop. "Oh!" He smiles. Did he smile like that before? "It's Rody - do you want to go to bed now?"

Katsuki startles. "What?"

"I mean, you were tired, weren't you? If I call Rody, I probably won't do much more work. So you can go."

Katsuki feels the warmth from the conversation drain. Maybe it was never warm - maybe it was Izuku's charm in his sickly sweet smile. "I can go now? We were talking, damn it. Who's Rody?"

Izuku flinches. "We had this conversation yesterday. Look, I don't mind you staying, I guess."

"You guess? The fuck happened to your headache?"

"Kacchan." Izuku cautions, noting the rise in volume. "I only needed a clear head to do my homework, I don't mind a headache if I'm just talking to a friend." Finally, the ringing dissipates, and Izuku and Katsuki are left in quiet.

"Screw Rody, we're having a damn conversation." Katsuki spits.

"Don't say that."

"I'll say 'fuck off' to anyone I want. Why's this guy so important to you?" It's integral, and tragically miscommunicated, how each other is feeling in the moment. Izuku doesn't seem to pick up on how important this situation is to Katsuki. "Why can you just tell me to dip as soon as your boyfriend starts to call. You can't just choose when and where I should be."

"Kacchan, you can't just choose when you want to be nice to someone. Maybe I'd rather you stuck around if you were half decent." They were yelling now. The innocent whimsy of the 1A dorm was slowly dissolving, as it always did when Izuku and Katsuki got a little too close. "I can't tell you where to be, but I can tell you to leave if you're being an asshole."

"But I'm not, I'm being extra kind. I could have blown your fuckin' head off when you said I was reckless, but I smiled. And you're just telling me to suck it and fuck off?"

"That's not kind, Kacchan, that's normal. You don't get an award for not blowing up at me." Izuku frowns. "Look, you've been acting weird for days and I don't like it. One minute you're beating the shit out of me, and then the next we're watching the stars. You can't just choose when you want to be complacent, it's crazy."

"Complacent?" Katsuki spits, rising from his seat. The legs of the chair squeak as he stands. "We're fuckin' complacent?" 

"Well, we're not friends." Izuku deadpans.

"Oh, and Rody's your best fuckin' chum?"

"He's better than you."

Katsuki stills. He shouldn’t be shocked, and he knows that. Sometimes, he takes Izuku’s kindness for granted. He’d always been such a suck up - following Katsuki around and covering for all his sins. There was rarely a time that Izuku would stick up for himself around Katsuki. But he should have. And yet, knowing this, knowing that he’s in the wrong and feeling it, Katsuki still feels wronged.

”Fuckin’ fine then, Deku. Call him back.”

Katsuki walks off with a furious temper. He ignores, or wants to ignore, the way the room quiets, watching him.

Katsuki slumps down on a stool next to Mina, whose eyebrows shoot up dramatically. “Hey… Bakugo.”

”Hello.”

Mina, and the girls collected around her, share a suspicious look. “You, uh.. You alright? Have a little fight with Midoriya?”

”I’m fine, asshole. Don’t treat me like a fucking child.”

Mina nods slowly. “Alright. Well, uh.. you happy just chilling here?”

”What, like I can’t?” Katsuki spits. “I can sit next to my friends. And enjoy company with my friends.” He groans, friends a little louder than the rest of the words, glancing back and fourth and Izuku, hoping he’d hear him.

Mina chuckles. “I’m glad you finally said it.”

Silence. Katsuki crosses his arms like a child, staring out at the girls watching him. “What? Fucking talk about what you’re talking about.”

”We’re planning what we’re going to do in Hosu on saturday— Hey! Bakugo, you should come!” Mina gleams.

”Yeah! That would be nice!” Ochako smiles encouragingly.

”Hosu?” He mumbles. Katsuki looks over at Izuku, who is now happily chatting on a video call, like nothing happened at all. Katsuki has a habit of exaggerating, but that wasn’t nothing. He hears Izuku laugh and feels his body tense. “How far is it?”

”Like, two hours by train. We’re leaving at about nine on Saturday morning.”

Katsuki feels a vengeful spirit plotting within him. He feels rage, most of all, and notes the way it transpires within him. Hosu’s far. Long distance. If he went to Hosu, who knows the kind of turmoil he would install in Izuku.

”Saturday? Sure.” Katsuki says casually, perhaps not aware of what he was doing.

“Wait… seriously?” Mina gapes.

”Yeah.” Katsuki says, frowning at Izuku. He giggles and fiddles with his hair, having fun without Katsuki. “I love… shopping.”

Mina and the girls exchange excited smiles. “Nine on Saturday? Got it?”

”Sure thing.” Katsuki says bluntly.

They say love is blind - perhaps rage is blinder.

Chapter Text

The dorms are quieter in the morning.

Katsuki, alone on a Saturday morning and in waiting, is free to explore his own thoughts. With little to distract him, he focuses on the feelings of hurt and anger within him. This probably would have bothered him less if he hadn't realised his feelings, but all's well and done. 

Izuku said they weren't friends. It was true, obviously, but his heart still hurt. He's done this to himself, and that's what really hurts. If he weren't such a stuck-up, egotistical, asshole, maybe Izuku wouldn't mind sitting and laughing with him like he does with everyone else. Maybe they could be friends. But he is, and they aren't. Izuku hates his company.

Well, screw that. Katsuki hates it too. For marginally contrasting reasons. Katsuki doesn't like the way his stomach flips when Izuku waves, or his face darkens when he speaks. Or how easily bothered he gets by a phone call. Katsuki hates that too, and he's hoping to loose it in Hosu. Burn up his stupid feelings and abandon them two hours by train.

Mina is just as excited as yesterday when she sees Katsuki. "Oh, my word! You actually came!" She squeaks, jumping over to his side. "This is going to be the best girls-and-Bakugo trip ever!" She yells, shaking his shoulders.

"Quit it." Katsuki groans, shoving her hands off him.

Mina, alongside Ochako, Momo, Tsuyu, Jiro, and Toru, are dressed and ready to go. They all seem overly pleased Bakugo agreed to join them. "Sorry we're late." Toru says. "It took a little extra time to get ready!"

"I'm sure you take ages to get ready." Katsuki scoffs, remarking at her invisible appearance.

Out the door and into the sunny day, Katsuki drags himself along with the others. He isn't actually too displeased at joining them - they're often better people to be with than the boys. Less noisy and stupid. And sometimes, their interests coincide. 

Ochako gives Katsuki a somber look, one he can’t ignore. He frowns. “What, pink-cheeks?”

”Is everything alright with you and Deku?” She asks, the name sounding softer on her tongue. Like it isn’t an insult. A sharp reminder that Izuku was right - Katsuki doesn’t have to be horrible to him all the time.

”Is it ever alright?”

”But you fought so loudly last night and now you’re... here.” Ochako cocks her head.

”So? We fight all the time. Stop being such a nosy asshole.” Katsuki spits.

Mina turns around, skipping as she walks. “Everyone wants to know what his deal is, Uraraka, but if we ask he’s going to go home. Wait until he’s in Hosu, at least.” She grins.

”I can hear you?” Katsuki squints.

”Doesn’t matter. The plan works if you know about it or not.”

The girls gleam as they trudge off the train. It was a boring journey, and they lost reception around halfway through. Katsuki couldn’t understand how they needed to check their phone as they spoke, but it didn’t matter to him. He sat in a different section, anyway.

Hosu station was packed on a Saturday, and it was a difficult and irritating journey out of the underground, but the space calmed in the open air.

”So, where first?” Momo asked idly. “We could get something to eat, unless you guys have already?”

”Oh! Oh! Let’s go to the Miffy-cafe!” Ochako grins, jumping up and down. “Me and Tsu went there some weeks back, it’s totally awesome!”

The girls agree. They don’t bother asking what Katsuki wants - they know he wants none of it.

The cafe is quiet in the afternoon, but not empty. It’s around 12pm, and the girls rush in with giddy enthusiasm. Everything is Miffy themed. The cups and paintings and chairs and napkins. It’s cute, for a girl.

Ordered is a cacophony of overpriced nonsense. Miffy shaped pastries and Miffy painted toast. Miffy sticker-ed coffee and Miffy embellished boba.

”What are you getting?” Ochako asks Katsuki, watching him frown at the display. 

“Is there normal food?”

”It is normal food, it’s just decorated.” Ochako laughs. “Look, they’re normal eggs… just, Miffy shaped.”

”Can’t I have a round egg?”

”Well, that’s not very Miffy themed, is it.” 

Katsuki scoffed. He eyed a Miffy coffee. The plastic cup had little drawings of the character, and drinking it would make him look impossibly stupid. But he was tired.

He ordered it.

Sitting, it was only mandatory that the girls take a cute picture of Katsuki and his Miffy drink. He frowns, straw in mouth, and accepts his fate.

He checks his phone.

It was compulsive and irritating, but every minute of the day he checked his phone. Why leave Izuku if he was so damn nervous about it?

”So, Bakugo,” Momo says calmly, breaking him from his trance. “What made you want to join us today?”

Everyone looks at him expectantly.

”Can’t a guy go to Hosu?” Katsuki scoffs.

”He can, but with his female classmates?” Jiro smirks.

”Calling me a pervert?” Katsuki spits.

The girls fluster. “No! No, no,” Jiro laughs. “I’m saying it’s unusual. What did Midoriya say to you?”

”Fuck off.” Katsuki frowns, sipping his drink.

”It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re sipping on a Miffy coffee.” Tori giggles.

Katsuki rolls his eyes.

”Come on, girl talk Bakugo. Don’t you like a little gossip? Tell us what’s up! We’re dying!” Mina groans, dramatically folding over herself. 

“Girl talk? Gossip?” Katsuki flinches. “That’s kill me.”

”You can’t come on a girl trip and not gossip! Spill!” Mina begs.

”Absolutely not.”

”Spill!”

”Shut up,” Katsuki groans. “I won’t say a damn thing.”

“I heard Rody was involved.” Toru says excitedly. If Katsuki could see her, he’d tell her to wipe that dumb grin off her face.

”The guy from Europe?” Momo jumps.

”Yeah - he called Deku and that’s why Bakugo was so angry!” Toru says smugly.

”Fuck are you in my business for?” Katsuki says, shoulders up and tense.

”Well,” Jiro snorts. “You were in the common room. Like, everyone heard you.”

”Shut up!”

”Are Deku and Rody actually dating? That’s what you said, but he never told me about that.” Ochako says idly. “Or well, he did say—“

”Say what?” Katsuki says too quickly.

"Say... nothing.” Ochako squints skeptically. “Why?”

Katsuki looks away. “They’re not dating. I don’t think.” He admits.

”Okay, I thought that’d be something Deku would tell me about.” She shrugs.

”What—“ Katsuki says, then stops. Girls are like leeches, sucking on every ounce of drama salvageable. He gulps, thinking about his words carefully before they accuse him of true love. “Did Deku say about Rody?” He says calmly.

It’s detectable how Ochako grins at the others quietly. “He talked about him a lot when you guys came back from Europe. They just…” She begins to laugh. “I guess if he didn’t tell you, he wouldn’t want you to know.”

”So? Fuckin’ tell me anyway! I thought you guys liked gossip.” Katsuki says gruffly.

Tsuyu nudges Ochako’s side, and Ochako begins to speak. “Ever heard of a summer fling?”

”You’re fucking joking.” Katsuki deadpans, mouth unintentionally agape.

”I guess when you spend that long alone with a cute guy, it’s just bound to happen.” Jiro shrugs.

”Summer fucking fling? You’re kidding me.” Katsuki flinches. “But Rody’s so boring.”

”You met him?” Tsuyu asks.

”Yeah. Asshole.” Katsuki clicks his tongue.

The girls giggle. Something about it sounds conspiratorial. Like they know something he doesn’t.

”I don’t know, Bakugo. He seems super nice.” Mina says, something sinister in her eye.

”Anyone can seem nice.” Katsuki huffs. "He isn't nice. I'll tell you that."

The girls begin to giggle. Mina smirks wider. "Are you, how do I put this... Jealous?"

Katsuki jumps, offended. "Have you lost your whole damn mind?" He spits. "Not for all the money in the world."

"I don't know," Tsuyu shrugs, finger to her lip quizzically. "You did seem pretty mad last night."

"Did you drag me out here just to question me? You're all assholes." Katsuki scoffs, finishing the last of his drink. The girls' giggling turns into louder laugher, and Katsuki feels his face flush. "Stop fuckin' laughing!"

"Oh, we'll stop questioning you, Bakugo." Momo says as she contains herself. "We have our answer, anyway."

Katsuki doesn't speak, only crossing his arms defensively. Scared that if he opens his mouth again, he'll push himself further into his stupid corner. Man, girls aren't much better than boys.

The mall is the last place Katsuki wants to be, but he's out numbered, unfortunately. He knew what he was getting himself into, really, but he wasn't in a great headspace when he agreed. Perhaps going to the gym longer, or visiting home would have been better options to torment Izuku - but standing outside a clothing store was sufficient.

"What's better, pink or purple?" Katsuki hears Mina from inside the store. Turning his head, he spots her holding up two shirts that have enough fabric to be considered dish cloths. But he shouldn't judge, anyway.

"Pink, for sure." Jiro nods. She's asisting Mina, eyeing up the shirts, too.

"I thought so, it's super cute."

Katsuki, convict to his own upbringing, feels an acute sense on unease as he watches the girls make the wrong choice. Of course, there isn't a wrong choice, but from a fashion perspective, there's definitely a better choice. Katsuki can't stand it when she puts down the purple shirt.

"Idiot," Katsuki rolls his eyes, trudging into the store, sticking out like a coal in a box of glitter. "Pick purple, obviously. Purple compliments yellow, like those dingy horns on your head. The pink will just look stupid - you are pink."

Mina gapes her mouth open, and Jiro covers her laugh. "Sorry - what was that?"

Katsuki grabs the flimsy piece of purple fabric and holds it to her head. "Yeah, it's a much better choice. I don't expect you to know that - because you're dumb, but you can't go pickin' that shade of pink. It'll wash you out. It's darker than you."

Katsuki's met with radio silence, two open mouths and wide eyes. It takes Momo butting in to break them from their quiet. "Wow, Bakugo! You know so much about fashion." She compliments. 

"Obviously. When will you people realise I know everything?" 

Jiro snorts. "Did all that Dress To Impress get to your head?" She mocks.

"The hell is that?"

"Bakugo!" Mina finally moves. "How do you know so much about fashion?"

With reluctance, Katsuki shrugs. "My parents work in fashion."

The girls scream. It's unnerving. "Tell us more, wise one!" Mina jokes. "Come on - what style of pants will suit the top?"

"I don't know." Katsuki groans, but he does. Something tight or flared, as the top is super flowy. It's one of those sheer and bedazzled baby doll tops. The kind that sinches around the breast, and the bottom half is transparent and flowing fabric. "Give me a break." He mumbles.

"Tell me now!" Mina shakes Katsuki's body with a grip on his arm. "I need to know!"

"You own bell-bottoms?" Katsuki asks, shrugging her off.

"Yuh-huh." Mina gleams. "They're blue denim, though."

"Ew. Try light neutrals, or something. The tops too dark for that."

Jiro laughs again. "Okay, Top Model." She remarks, an addition to her former joke.

Katsuki clicks his tounge.

Shopping lasted two more hours. If it wasn’t makeup, it was confectionery. If it wasn’t formal wear, it was swim wear. Each shop was a cacophony of glittery colour and Katsuki couldn’t stand the lot of it. 

There wasn’t a shop in the entire centre that he thought he might enjoy. He could, of course, sit in the food court. But he was ardently against the noise and variety of disgusting mall food. And maybe there’d be something he’d like to buy for himself, but there wasn’t a shop in the building that met his intricate fashion needs.

He was at a loss, wistful outside of a colourful shop labeled ‘summer sun babes’ which made him shiver to think about. 

He looks out to the masses and sighs. There’s a small boy tugging at his mother’s hand. ‘All Might’ he screams, only bound to catch Katsuki’s attention.

”I want to go to the All Might store!” He yells, bratty and disgusting. “Mommy, mommy please!”

”Honey, would you please calm down?” The mother says smoothly, much calmer in that situation than Katsuki would be.

All Might store? Ridiculous.

But, in a thin and brightly lit corner of the mall is a small store dedicated to All Might merchandise. With little to do and an already broken pride, Katsuki gets up and walks to the yellow painted walls.

It’s full of children, but more so yellow embellishments. There’s posters and comics and toys and figures. Katsuki wouldn’t buy anything, but at least he was now with likeminded people - even if they were seven.

Hands in pockets and a furious scowl, Katsuki pretends he isn’t enjoying himself. But when he spots a comic boxed in a clear container, he’s smitten.

It’s rare, incredibly so, and probably at least ¥30,000. He’d never seen a comic so expensive, but after a mistake in the printing, they stopped publishing them. There’s quite a few of them which lowers their value (there’s even All Might comics worth ¥200,000) but it’s rare compared to most. Katsuki had never been much of a comic fan - or an All Might merch collector at all…

…but he knew someone who was.

”That’s very expensive, my boy.” An old but enthusiastic shop keeper smiles. “I’ll have to take at least ¥40,000 from you.”

”Bullshit.” Katsuki clicks his tongue. “These things aren’t as rare as you think they are. It’s gotta be like ¥25,000.” He says, lying through his pearly teeth.

”I don’t think you know what you’re talking about—“

”I go to school with the fuckin’ guy, give me a break. I won’t buy it for less - and I know damn well none of these kids get that much for pocket money, so sell me the damn thing for what it’s worth.”

The man, with a wrinkled and furrowed brow, purses his lips in shock. “Well, ¥25,000 is a little on the cheap side, but I suppose not entirely unrealistic.” He says slowly. “Tell you what, ¥30,000.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “¥30,000. And it better be packaged properly.”

The man smiles warmly, grabbing a key from under his desk. “I suppose it’s only fair.” He mutters. The box unlocks with a satisfying click and the children closest to him peer over themselves to watch something so expensive being sold. The man carefully takes the comic out and begins to wrap it in bubble wrap and paper.

”You go to school with All Might - do you mean, he’s your teacher? At UA?” The man asks smoothly.

”What’s it to you?”

”I think that’s marvellous. I’m a huge fan of UA. And All Might.” The man smiles. It’s now that Katsuki feels a little bad for his harsh conversation skills.

”He’s a nice guy. Good, uh, teacher…” Katsuki shrugs, thinking of what one of his more conversationally adverse friends would say.

The man tapes closed his comic protection and puts it into a bag for Katsuki. He clicks some buttons on his card machine, and spins it around for payment. Katsuki pulls out his card and delights in the familiar beep of transaction.

”You like comics, then?” The man asks.

Katsuki shrugs. “Not really.”

”Then why spend so much on one? Or are you just a collector?”

Katsuki doesn't say anything as he grabs the bag slowly, pulling it down to his side in thought. "Uh, it's not for me." He says - or admits. It feels like a confession. Perhaps not to the idea of him giving away the comic, but rather that he, the almighty, feels... bad. He feels guilty for leaving Izuku. He can only think of the horrors of his illness. He's probably throwing up or passing out, and Katsuki is the sole perpertrator. He can't do things like that - not if he loves him.

Gifts don't always make up for things, but they're a good start.

"Well, you're a kind boy, aren't you!" The man chuckles.

"Not even a little bit." Katsuki says with far too much self-deprecation and seriousness. So much so, that the man flinches into himself.

"I see... Well, enjoy the comic." He says quietly. And Katsuki is out the door.

"I'm so hungry!" Toru says dramatically, her floating shirt folding, suggesting she grabs her stomach.

"Same here!" Ochako adds, sighing. "Can we please get something to eat?"

It was approaching evening, around 5pm, and the girls had run out of money to rinse. For hours they begged Katsuki to tell them what he had bought, but Katsuki was as quiet as a cemetery. Now, they walked the busy streets of Hosu on a Saturday, looking for a street vendor good enough for their final bouts of cash.

When they settled for a small stall selling Karaage, or more commonly known as, Japanese fried chicken.

Katsuki would buy something in due time, but for now he watched the girls make their choices. Momo wanted hers plain, while Mina looked for something spicy. In all the festivities of selection, Katsuki almost didn't hear his phone ring.

All Might. Was this the notification Katsuki has dreaded all day, or was he in for a warm hello?

With reluctance, he put the phone to his ear.

"Where are you?" All Might begins, too stern and straight forward to be happy with Katsuki. He was never so demanding. Katsuki gulps.

"Uh, Hosu." He says quietly.

There's a long and painful silence from the other end of the line. "Hosu. You're in... Hosu."

"Yup."

Another dragged and strenuous silence. "Are you... insane?" All Might asks a little too calmly. The likes of a serial killer, perhaps, far too collected while drenched in blood.

"What's the big deal?" Katsuki asks roughly. Truly, he's terrified. What is it that he's done to Izuku? "Can't a guy enjoy the city?"

"Not if you're putting another students life at risk! Let alone the successor to One for All!" All Might yells.

Life at risk?

He continues. "You couldn't have possibly stopped to think about the consequences of your actions? Not for a moment? You're marked as a rash and abrasive child, but this is too far."

Katsuki swallows a large and uncomfortable lump in his throat. "I don't..." He tries. "What's up with Deku, then?"

"Bakugo, he won't wake up. Do you have no empathy? No consideration for other peoples-"

"He won't wake up? What the hell do you mean?" Katsuki startles, alerting the concerned attention of the people around him.

"I could expel you for something so harmful. If you aren't in the medical office by 7pm, I'll march to Principle Nezu and explain just how deprecating you can be." All Might says coldly, truthfully. It's unnerving to hear him be so harsh.

Katsuki, even, stutters. "Uh- yeah. I'll be there. Is- Is Deku.. Will be be okay?"

"Find out." The line goes dead. Katsuki holds the phone to his ear and waits, hoping a soothing and peaceful tone will whisper through to him that it will all be okay. To tell him he's not an asshole - that there's always second chances. But the voice doesn't come.

"Bakugo, are you-" Mina starts, before Katsuki interrupts.

"I'm going home."

Katsuki doesn't stop to listen to their concerned questions. Doesn't look back to see them worried. He's walking, and fast, to the closest station, reeling with the mess of an insane mistake.

Can it be considered a mistake, if it was done with such intent? Katsuki never changes. How on earth can his actions be deemed forgivable if he keeps doing them? There has always been this beacon of hope that soothed Katsuki - the idea that no matter what, Izuku would forgive him. But how could he now, sick and unconscious?

Gifts are a good start, but they're not enough for an apology. And Katsuki isn't quite sure what is. Or if there's anything worthy.

Chapter Text

The medical room was cold when Katsuki arrived, eleven minutes to seven. It was cold, too, and not only because the window were open, but because warmth was not a virtue available in the stillness of the room. There were four people in the room. Recovery Girl, who was wetting a cloth. Aizawa, who was sitting by the window. All Might, standing furiously at the end of the bed.

And Izuku.

He looked wonderful, even in his condition. He lay on his back with a thin medical blanket covering his body. His head sunk into the pillow behind him, pushing his hair over his face. Izuku was still - awfully still, and his chest slowly rose and fell.

Katsuki felt the lump in his throat manifest into a choke, coughing up the guilty disease inside him. He took a step forward, thin plastic bag dropping at his side.

”Is he— Is he okay?” He lets out, a small and weak sound. Something the likes of anyone in the room had never heard before. Even when Katsuki was furious beside All Might, crying and wailing, he never sounded so broken.

“No, actually.” All Might speaks, a loud and shocking tone that didn’t fit within the silence of the room. “He is completely unconscious.”

Aizawa coughs awkwardly. “What All Might is trying to say, is that Midoriya is unconscious, but his vitals aren’t cause for concern. He is okay.” He says, uncharacteristically comforting.

Katsuki swallows thickly as walks to the edge of the medical bed. Izuku’s mouth is slightly parting, letting in small amounts of air.  “This is—“ Katsuki whispers, so quiet he wonders if anyone can actually hear him. Or if he even spoke at all. “I’m sorry.”

”Sorry doesn’t do a great deal, Young Bakugo.” All Might chides, his presence a looming thorn in his side. There’s a rustle, a harsh movement from Aizawa, and All Might coughs. “But it’s a great start.” He begins, changing the tone of his former speech. Perhaps Aizawa shoved him. “What you did was foolish, but you’re here now. Perhaps when Young Midoriya wakes, we can have a conversation. For now, you’re forbidden to leave his room until that boy opens his eyes.”

”I wouldn’t dream of it.” Katsuki says wistfully. He’s staring at Izuku, eyes never trailing from the sullen look of sleep cast over his face.

There’s a new air, a foreign air. One of confusion. The teachers eye Katsuki with a hint of apprehension, unsure of what to make of the look on his face. Had Katsuki ever looked so forlorn? He stared at Izuku as one would a smashed glass. Staring at an accident, a mistake, a stupid clatter of dangerous and cataclysmic shards.

Aizawa, despite his outward disapproval and irritation, felt somewhat sorry for Katsuki. Though he’d never understand why Katsuki acted the way he did, he wasn’t inherently evil. Katsuki was a complicated person.

“Bakugo,” he starts with a tired tone. “You mustn’t feel too bad. I understand it’s a difficult situation for you, and you’re only young.” He tries.

Katsuki, unwavering in his expression towards Izuku, clears his throat. “Don’t. Don’t try and make me feel better. I need to sit here and feel awful and—“ He coughs. Waits. “I did something wrong, okay? Don’t cover my tracks.”

The two teachers freeze for a moment, unsure on how to handle a reaction like that. But, above all else, Katsuki is right. He needs to feel this.

”The boy will be okay, miraculously.” Recovery Girl starts, trudging over to the side of the bed. “His vitals are fine and he’s breathing well. I believe he’ll wake up soon, so there mustn’t be any worry. But I say, boy, that was an incredibly foolish thing to do. More so than your petty fight the last time you were here.”

Katsuki shrugs.

Recovery Girl grabs the bag Katsuki dropped at the entrance to the door and hands it back to him. “What did you drop, boy?” She asks quietly.

”A present. For Deku.” Katsuki mutters, finally dragging his eyes away from his rested face. “It’s an All Might comic, actually.” He says with a weak and wobbling smile toward his teacher.

”Which one?” All Might asks idly, hoping the topic of conversation may lighten the mood.

”The 1979 April Attack Comic. The one published by Greenbriar’s.” Katsuki says humbly.

”Seriously? That goes for like ¥40,000.” All Might startles. Aizawa finally raises a brow, impressed.

Katsuki takes a sullen seat on the vacant chair to Izuku’s right, right beside his head. “Well, Deku didn’t have it.” He shrugs.

”That’s awfully kind of you.” Aizawa says.

When Katsuki doesn’t respond, All Might speaks again. “I’m sure I could have just asked for the comic - save you all that money.”

”I don’t need to save money.” Katsuki says. “Anyway, shouldn’t I loose a little in this situation?”

The silence is telling. After a few more beats of medical buzz, Aizawa stands. “Well, there’s not much else we can do here, so we should probably get home.” He says lightly. “Will you be alright staying with Midoriya?” 

Katsuki nods faintly.

”I’ll make sure he has somewhere to sleep.” Recovery Girl comforts, and encourages the two out.

All Might, last to leave the room, turns back to Katsuki. “Bakugo,” he prompts firmly. “Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Katsuki looks at his idol in the door way, in his thin and unimpressive state. And yet, the way he is now, he’s still so influential. Katsuki quirks his lips. “Thanks,” he says complacently, relaxing into his chair.

Recovery Girl did set up a bed for Katsuki to stay on. It was just the same as Izuku’s, but a little further away from him. Katsuki thanked her before she left the room, but he found the excursion pointless. He couldn’t find it possible to sleep in such a time. 

Izuku was fine - to the naked and uninformed eye, he could just be sleeping. But no matter how many times Katsuki shook him, he didn’t wake. His breathing remained calm, but his eyes didn’t falter. Izuku was asleep, and he wasn’t getting up.

In the last drags of the sunset, Katsuki lay his head on the railing of Izuku’s bed. The metal was cold against his cheek. He let himself think about the craze of it all. Hosu, his phone call, running away. Katsuki let out a self-deprecating laugh. It was more like a wounded exhale.

He thought, idly, of a time with him and his mother.

”You’re sick?” Mitsuki asked, hands on her hips and sporting an unconvinced quirk of her eyebrow. “You were fine yesterday.”

Katsuki was eight - still full of spunk and attitude. He crossed his arms over his body and cowered his head, like a sick person would. “I just got sick overnight.” He said quietly.

”Katsuki - you can’t go from fine to fever. Let me touch your head.”

Mitsuki reached out a hand and lay it flat against Katsuki’s head. It was warm, and sweaty - but warm in sweaty in the kind of manner one would find if they rested their head against the radiator moments prior, and splashed their head with water.

”Well, you are warm - but not sick.” She decided, taking a seat on the edge of Katsuki’s bed. “You need to get ready now, we leave in twenty minutes.” She said a little more sternly than before.

”But Mom, I am sick!” Katsuki pleaded, trying his hardest to rasp his voice. He coughed, too, dry and faint like an exhale.

Mitsuki frowned. “Come on, Katsuki. You’re not one to lie about sickness. What is it? Are you being bullied?”

”Bullied? Who would bully me?” Katsuki flinched, momentarily of full health again. Then, he furrowed his brow and pretended again.

”Well, that’s what I’m wondering. What is it that would make you want to skip school?” 

Katsuki whined. “I don’t want to skip. I love school, honest. It sucks for me too that I’m sick.” Katsuki tried, but his mother’s unimpressed stare made him cower back. Her silence was more than enough of a question, and Katsuki gave in. “Fine… I have a quiz today.”

”A quiz? On what?”

”History. I’m so awesome at everything else, but I’m just not great at it.” Katsuki said a little quiet. Something about admitting failure was awkward for him. 

Mitsuki nodded slowly, tonguing the inside of her mouth in thought. “You can’t not go to school just because you’re not good at a quiz. You can’t run away from things like that.”

”Run away?”

”If you just fled every time you faced something scary, you’d never learn.” His mother said, growing in wisdom. “Go to school, do the test, and if you fail? Do it again. You can’t just hide when you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Katsuki contemplated, his young and growing mind taking it all in. “But I don’t want to fail. I want to be good all the time.”

”If you skip the quiz, you’ll never be good at it. Better to try and fail then not try at all - that’s what you call cowardice.” 

“I’m not a coward!” Katsuki jumped.

”Well then what are you doing sittin’ in your bed and sulking? It’s just a damn quiz, who cares!” Mitsuki said, her tone adopting a more aggressive demeanour. But she smiled as she saw Katsuki grow his confidence back.

”Okay!” He said, jumping out of bed, his tiny shorts and top scrunched on his body. “I’m gonna to do the quiz, and I’m gonna win!”

Mitsuki gave him a high five. “That’s the spirit!”

”I’ll win, and I’ll never run away again!” Katsuki sang, climbing for his school uniform. In a more collected tone, he mumbled. “I’ll never be scared again. And if I am, I won’t run.”

I won’t run.

Katsuki sat up. He’d always been this way, huh? Running when things got a little too complicated. For Katsuki, most things outside of his generic abilities were complicated. He grew up pretty good at anything he put his mind to, and people knew that about him. But there were things Katsuki wasn't good at. Like people, or feelings, or connections. He always found it difficult to maintain relationships with people - like growing plants. Sick of the watering and soiling and heating and harvesting. Katsuki discovered at a very early age that relationships needed work. And he didn't like that.

He didn't like anything he wasn't good at, actually. Like history.

But Izuku proved to be Katsuki's biggest challenge of all. He was something, a difficult something, and Katsuki never quite cracked him. Izuku wasn't self-serving or unkind. He wasn't strong or outgoing. He wasn't remarkably special or cool. In fact, he was nothing like Katsuki at all, and that was hard for Katsuki. He didn't understand why Izuku was the way he was. Why he never gave up in the face of defeat. Never backed down when Katsuki tried to diminish him. Never traded his compassion. Why he was nothing at all like the inward focused, arrogant, and egotistical boy Katsuki was.

Katsuki didn't like Izuku. Only because he scared him. And Katsuki ran when he was scared, like he did when he faced his history quiz. Running and fighting and combating like a nervous, frightened dog. One that knows it's too small to fight back, and needs to shout in order to prove itself.

Katsuki was all bark and no bite, and Izuku knew that.

He looked peaceful still, and Katsuki raises his head to observe him. He wondered what Izuku would say when he woke. He wasn't the skittish little boy anymore, so maybe he'd be furious. Maybe he'd shout and yell and tell Katsuki what a piece of work he is. Or maybe he'd smile - be glad that Katsuki was sitting beside him. He'd probably be happy with the comic, above all else.

"You're a weird one, Izuku." Katsuki whispers, content in his solitude. The name is foreign on his tongue. But in the safety of the silence, he doesn't mind reverting to old ways. "I guess I should say I'm sorry. I'll try to again, when you wake up, but I need to practice now."

A part of Katsuki hoped Izuku would react to the speech against him, but he doesn't stir. 

"So, sorry. For going to Hosu. I'm not sure why I did it." Katsuki says, sitting up and growing in volume. "Well, I do. I was angry at you. Because you said we weren't friends, which I know is stupid, 'cause I said that too. But, I don't know... That's my reason."

The silence grows a little unnerving. Perhaps it's Izuku's lack of reaction, maybe the reality of him not getting up. But Katsuki clears his throat, as if to shake off the awkward air.

"Anyway, uh, you probably think I'm a total jerk - which I am, really. So I don't mind if you don't forgive me. But," Katsuki gulps, taking in the vulnerable air. "I do want to be your friend. I want to try... If that even makes sense."

Katsuki sits closer to the bed, noticing the way that Izuku, in his fevered and unkept state, still smells wonderful. He smells like summer, like a warm breeze or a slow morning. Most of all, he smelt like the nostalgic flow of water in the thin town side river. The memory of falling - of coming to terms with the fact that Izuku was kind and whole and wonderful, and Katsuki was not.

And love, too. He smelt like love.

Falling in love.

Chapter Text

In the stillness of the morning, Katsuki feels spirals of sleep washing off of him. The sun cowers at the horizon, allowing a thin but warm string of light into the medical room. He had fallen asleep, head resting on the cold rail of Izuku's bed.

He was, unfortunately, sleeping too. Ironically, he looked calmer and more well rested than Katsuki. Izuku's cheeks were an endearing shade of pink, freckles swimming in the feverish blush. His lips parted, allowing small escapes of air. His chest rose and fell. He was alive, and okay, but sleeping.

"Izuku," he whispers, given name coming across as more of a foreign word than anything familiar. “Are you up?”

Izuku, despite the soft nudging of his shoulder, didn’t budge. It makes Katsuki’s heart drop. 

“Wake up.” He says quietly. The sun slowly skitters up the wall. “Please, ‘Zuku. Wake up.” He says softly, more desperate than before.

Izuku doesn’t falter, motionless and drowning in the white sheets. Consumed in the state of stillness. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” Katsuki whispers, guilt lacing his words like honey on the blade of a knife. “Why am I doing this to you?” He contrasts, more applicable to the situation. “Why am I so awful? Why am I doing this to you?”

The question goes unanswered, and Katsuki can’t even form words to answer in the place of Izuku. He really doesn’t know. 

Katsuki moves the hair from Izuku’s forehead, revealing his warm and feverish skin. He looks brighter with the hair away from his face. He looks more beautiful.

Katsuki feels his lips quirk, resting his chin on the railing. “You’re so stupid, y’know?” Katsuki lets out a breathy laugh. “You’ve always been so damn persistent. I got so used to havin’ you do stuff I told you to, that I forgot you’re stubborn.”

Katsuki laughs in place of Izuku. He talks as if he’s reciting memories with an old friend. It feels weird to say that he isn’t. But, are they friends? After all this? Katsuki certainly made himself clear when he was acting like an idiot.

”Remember when we were kids, and we were exploring the forest out the back of your house?” Katsuki starts, looking out the window and into the rising sun. “And we came across a cave? I wanted to go inside so badly, but you were spittin’ some rubbish about it being to dangerous. You were stupid - balling your tiny fists and yelling, no Kacchan! We can’t go in there!

And I was furious, ‘cause the cave looked fuckin’ sick. But seeing your stupid face and knit brow I just— I don't know, how could I go inside? You didn’t want me to.” Katsuki shrugs to himself, reciting the look on Izuku’s face in his head. “I know you’d have shouted until I walked out, and I gave in before you yelled yourself sick.”

Izuku has a thin line of sun over his face, warming the pink of his lips.

”I never told you, but like you - I’d have done anything you asked me to. I make it seem like you were some kinda leech, but honestly I never would have let you leave my side. I guess that kinda makes me a leech.” Katsuki laughs dryly.

”If you had stopped following me around then, I probably would’a flipped. I wouldn’t have let you. But now, if I had to choose, I’d have wanted you to.” Katsuki stills for a moment, frozen in thought. “You deserved— deserve better. I think so.”

Katsuki, in the realism of Izuku’s situation, feels his eyes sting. He has to blink to keep desperate tears from streaming down his cheeks. He, with an overwhelming guilt, takes Izuku’s hand. It’s warm - that has to be a good thing.

”I’m sorry, Izuku.” He says softly, weakly. “I’m sorry.”

Nothing.

”Wake up, please. When you wake up—“ Katsuki coughs. “When you wake up, I’ll give you your present, and I’ll make it up to you.”

He feels his cheeks wet with tears. Sticky tears. Guilty tears.

”And I’ll say sorry again. And you—“ Katsuki pauses, worried to say more. “And you can find better. Better than me.”

There’s no sound besides the muffled sobs of a weak and worried Katsuki. He dives his head into his arm, one sprawled across the rail, and one latched onto Izuku’s hand. The room is warming, Katsuki can feel the sun on his back, but his body is cold.

Izuku’s isn’t. He’s warm.

It’s almost unnoticeable when Izuku’s fingers start to twitch. Katsuki, so focused on keeping his emotions in check, doesn’t feel the soft swiping of Izuku’s thumb again his own.

”Kacchan,” a quiet and coarse voice spoke. Katsuki felt his body still. He shot up, eyes widening at a very awake and very alive Izuku. Izuku smiles softly. “There’s no one better than you.”

Katsuki can’t form a smile - or any reaction, at all. He gulps, feeling the soft affection of Izuku’s hand in his own. He laughs. “You’re— Oh my gosh, you’re awake.”

Izuku coughs, body jolting. “I guess so. How long was I out?”

Katsuki feels the joy surge through his body like a drug. “Like— A day?”

”Really? I’ve been sleeping for a day?” Izuku asks, a wide but wobbly smile on his face. You can hear the lack of former speaking in his tone.

Katsuki can only nod.

”Is it because of the quirk?” Izuku asks.

The happiness Katsuki felt drains from his body like a wrung sponge. He gulps thickly. Guiltily. “I’m sorry.” Is all he can say.

Izuku cocks his head, hair rustling in the sheets. He frowns. “Sorry? Again? For what?”

”I— I did this to you.” Katsuki looks away, trying to pull free from the contact of their hands. “I shouldn’t have. I’m.. I’m just sorry.”

There’s a breath of hesitation before Izuku laughs. “Don’t be silly - I don’t mind at all. I’m just glad you’re with me.”

Katsuki looks back, sure he’s sporting a perplexed expression. Izuku finds it amusing. “You’re.. Okay with this? How?”

”I know you, Kacchan.” Izuku croaks. “I know you don’t mean real harm.” He raises his free hand to Katsuki’s face. With a free finger, Izuku wipes away the stray tears on Katsuki’s cheek. “Evil people don’t cry about their actions. I don’t know why you did it, but I know you’re not bad.”

Katsuki can’t move.

”So, I’m not mad. I forgive you.”

”How? You’re ridiculous. Shout at me. Punch me, or— or never speak to me again.” Katsuki says, raising in volume and intensity. “I haven’t even told you my reasoning and you just forgive me? You’re crazy!”

Izuku smiles warmly. “Don’t be silly. I know all I need to know.”

In the stillness of the room, you could hear a pin drop. Feel a flake of dust fall from the ceiling. See the way Izuku’s heart beats in his chest.

”Why?” Katsuki asks. He means more - much more. Why are you like this? Why do you forgive me? Why do you always forgive me? Why are you still so kind, after everything I’ve done? But he doesn’t say that, and yet Izuku knows all he means.

”Because we’re friends, Kacchan.”

”Yeah?”

”Of course.”

Izuku is pedantically checked for the remainder of the early morning, and by 7AM, he’s granted the freedom of leaving the medical room. In just enough time to get ready for the school day.

Katsuki doesn’t leave his side. Not when Recovery Girl is checking his vitals. Not when he’s collecting his things together. Not when he’s walking from the room, down the hall. Not when he cautiously puts a hand on his dorm handle.

He waits. “Uh, Kacchan?”

”Hm?” Katsuki hums, checking out something on his phone.

”Are you… coming with me?” Izuku asks slowly.

Katsuki looks up. “Can I?”

“Don’t you need to get ready for school?” Izuku raises an eyebrow. There’s a strange silence between them.

”Uh, yeah. I guess.” 

Izuku nods slowly. “Maybe go do that, then.” 

Katsuki, rarely complacent, shrugs. “Okay.” He says, pocketing his phone and heading down the hall. “Be quick.” He says.

Izuku frowns, finally opening his door. “What a weirdo.” He whispers under his breath.

His room is cold when he walks in. It’s tidy, too tidy. Not the kind of room you can just relax into after a long day - not with the thousands of All Mights staring you down. But Izuku likes it like that, anyway.

He drops his stuff on his bed. It’s a measly collection of whatever was in his pockets before he fell unconscious. His phone and a few other things. He heads for his wardrobe. For his uniform.

Ideally, he’d like to shower before class, but he didn’t have the time for it. His uniform slips on like section nature, and he begins strapping his laces of his red shoes.

It’s now, in the mundane task of tying bows, that he thinks over everything.

Katsuki, running away to Hosu. So feverish he fell unconscious. Waking up to a crying boy. It’s a lot to comprehend, really. But all in due time.

What Izuku wonders a lot about is the mysterious plastic bag Katsuki held firmly to his person, adamant on keeping the contents a secret. Guess he got something crazy while in Hosu.

”Stupid Kacchan,” Izuku mumbles with no sense of irritation. It’s endearing, if anything. “He is just so weird.”

Izuku doesn’t want to accept it, but the new distance from Katsuki makes his head hurt. He’s barely around the corner, perhaps a few dorms down, but he feels his eyes stinging and nose blocking and head warming.

Is this how fast it’s going to take for him to get sick? Did Katsuki going to Hosu mess him up double?

Izuku fluffs up his hair in the mirror. It’s messier than ever, and there’s not much he can do about it. Best to embrace it really - but he’s not sure if anyone will care too much.

With a hesitant hand on the door, Izuku lets himself out. He’s ready, maybe, to face his classmates. He’s ready to answer their persistence concerns - perhaps a conversation with All Might.

What he’s not ready for, though, is Katsuki standing outside his door. He’s dressed, as well as he can be with a missing tie and half buttoned shirt, but he’s dressed.

Izuku almost faints, again. Instead, he gulps. “Kacchan? That was… quick.”

”You said quick.” Katsuki answers, leaning his body against the wall. His hair is messy, Izuku notices. Just how fast did he dress himself?

Izuku, bewildered, stares at Katsuki for a while too long. Something was changing between them - and if this is what friends with Katsuki looked like, Izuku wasn’t all too sure he was ready for it.

”Well—“

”Are you crying? What’s up with your eyes?” Katsuki says, pushing himself up from the wall. He leans forward to Izuku, squinting at his scrunched up face.

Izuku jumps. “No, no.” He stutters, wiping his nose with the edge of his sleeve. “Just reacting a little bad to the uh… sickness— Kacchan?” Izuku says brokenly, jumping to a new conversation. “What are you doing here?”

”You’re sick?” Katsuki questions.

“Well, yeah. But, always, no?” Izuku mumbles characteristically. “Don’t worry, Kacchan. What I’m more concerned with is you.. here… now?”

Katsuki frowns. “Seriously? It’s been like ten minutes. Do you think me—“ He stops suddenly. A gulp bobbing his throat. “Going to Hosu, messed you up?”

Izuku laughs. “Messed me up? Sure, whatever you want to say. But I’m not feeling that bad, Kacchan.”

”But you’re worse.”

Izuku shifts uncomfortably. He tries to smile, it looks more like a wince. “Sure, but… It’s not a problem, or anything.”

Katsuki shakes his head. “Feels like a damn problem. Why you always gotta be so humble about things?”

Izuku shrugs. “I’m not humble.”

”Like hell you’re not.” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Is it so much of a problem that I don’t want you to feel sick? It’s hardly groundbreaking. If anything, it’s the least I can do after… I don’t know.” He gulps.

Izuku sighs, not forgetting a slight amused smile perking from his lips. He shrugs. “It’s okay, Kacchan.” He says softly. “Don’t concern yourself too deeply with sticking around too close. I’m not bothered.”

”Don’t be a damn idiot.” Katsuki groans.

His hands are crossed over his chest and he’s sporting a very stern scowl. He doesn’t sound happy - or content or pleased or excited. If anything, he seems utterly miserable to have anything to do with Izuku. But Izuku knows better. With the soft crimson of his eyes and pink of his pursed lips - Katsuki is happy. He’s fine.

”If you insist,” Izuku caves, but perks up almost immediately. “But you need to understand how different our schedules are. Before you decide anything drastic, I sleep at around 12pm every night, and train for two hours before dinner. Whereas I know you sleep super early, and wake up at around 5am to train before class—“

”How the fuck do you know that?” Katsuki interrupts.

”That's not important. You also need to understand that I spent a lot of time studying outside of lesson time, where you like to study during the school day to maximise your free time.”

”Again - how deeply are you taking notes on me?” Katsuki frowns.

Izuku gulps. “Not too deeply.”

”This sounds fuckin’ deep. You need to get your head outta that damn notebook.”

Izuku giggles. “Whatever. Do you know how starkly different our day-to-days are?”

Katsuki considers for a while, taking in Izuku’s overbearing analysis. “So, what? I sleep later? It’s not that deep.”

”Kacchan, you’re sleeping like four hours later. If you wanna wake up at 5am you’ll have had no sleep.” Izuku sighs.

”Then I’ll train in the evening.”

Izuku winces. ”Now I’m messing up your schedule.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “No, idiot, I’m altering my schedule for like… a week.” He shrugs, bouncing from the wall and shoving his hands into his pocket. “Stop making this such a big deal. Let’s go, we’ll be late soon.”

Izuku turns as Katsuki starts down the hallway. “Kacchan, I don’t want you to stick around if it’s going to mess up your week so bad.”

”Quit whining! I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to, so can it.”

Izuku groans behind him, slowly but surely following behind Katsuki’s trail.

This was something close to friends. Forced friends, maybe, but better than what they had going before. Izuku was adjusting.

Shoto was admired for his wonderfully stoic and soft face. To see much of an expression from him would be groundbreaking. He’s credited for his permanent blissfullness.

So Momo has a tough time discerning why he looks so perplexed. “Todoroki?” She whispers, leaning into his desk beside her. Aizawa was complaining about something or other, and his monotonous tone overbore most whispering. “Is everything okay?”

Shoto continued to stare forward, eyebrows knit and lip softly bitten in thought. “Hm?” He hums.

”What are you looking at?”

”Midoriya and Bakugo. Don’t you think that is weird?” He asks lightly, nodding his head forward.

Momo looks ahead. Izuku and Katsuki were talking, more noticeably, Katsuki had turned his chair and was leaning on the front of Izuku’s desk, helping him with a piece of work on his desk. He looked at Izuku warmly, even when Izuku wasn't paying attention to him. There was a determination in his gaze, like he was seeing something nobody else did. Momo puts a hand to her chest gently.

”Wow, that is a little weird. What do you think they’re talking about?”

”It looks like Bakugo is teaching him something. But why?”

Momo frowns. “Maybe they’re getting over their differences?”

Shoto shakes his head lightly, soft hair bouncing on his forehead. “Impossible. I believe it’s blackmail.”

Momo covers her mouth to avoid a blank choke of a laugh. She smiles. “Todoroki, don’t you think that’s a little… extreme.”

”It’s the only plausible answer I can think of. Midoriya has something on Bakugo, and is threatening him with it in order for him to be kind.” Shoto shrugs.

Momo shakes her head patronisingly. “I’m not sure that’s quite what I’d believe, but it’s definitely an interesting theory.”

”Momo, you’re missing the bigger picture here.” Shoto says blankly, more seriously than before. He had grown fond of calling people he really liked by their first-names, and most everyone in the class was okay with it. “Bakugo is very secretive. I’m sure he has something awful that Midoriya is waving over his head. Why else would he be so kind? You know they’re not friends.”

Momo stares blankly at the two, watching them converse. Izuku even begins to laugh. “I guess it is quite weird, but blackmail isn’t the solution I would immediately jump to. Maybe he’s been.. I don’t know, hit by a quirk?”

Shoto clicks his fingers dramatically. “Just like Midoriya.”

”Like Midoriya?” Momo questions, and Shoto immediately backs down, knowing he’s said too much.

”Forget I said that.” He looks away. “But I like your conclusion. I’ll ask Midoriya about it when it comes to our lunch period.”

”Okay, Todoroki.” Momo lets out a breathy laugh, constantly reminded that Shoto has an utterly confusing outlook on situations, always.

Izuku waits for the vending machine to drop his drink. He likes the lemon and lime soda that's just a little too sweet for anyone else to enjoy. Being around Katsuki so closely has really helped his fever, though he'd probably be hesitant to admit that out of fear that Katsuki won't stop.

He doesn't want Katsuki to stop, not when it really came down to it, but the new chapter in their friendship was really uncomfortable. Sometimes, when Katsuki is sitting beside him, reading some hero article and paying no mind to him, Izuku fears this is all some joke - some stupid dream. It is a dream for him, really. To have the person you love most love you too. Of course, Katsuki probably doesn't love Izuku, and the love Izuku has for Katsuki doesn't stretch far beyond friendly admiration. But regardless, Katsuki is being too kind.

The can bounces on the bottom of the machine and Izuku reaches down for it. Katsuki is buying himself some lunch, far out of Izuku's line of sight. It's hard to admit that the small distance churns Izuku's stomach nauseatingly.

"Midoriya." Shoto says stoically from behind, peering over Izuku's shoulder like a ghost. Izuku jumps.

"Oh, hi Todoroki. What are you up to?" He says, standing from his kneel on the floor and holding his new can.

"I have something serious to ask you." Shoto frowns.

"Something serious? Gosh, Todoroki, is everything okay?"

Shoto pauses a while, leaning in close as if he's exchanging a forbidden secret. "What quirk was Bakugo hit by?" He says slowly.

Izuku puzzles over the question. "Oh, no. I was the one affected by the quirk. Kacchan wasn't really hit with anything." He shrugs.

"Not that. A new one."

"Another one? What do you mean?" Izuku asks, suddenly startled.

Shoto shakes his head gravely. "I believe it must be some form of a kindness quirk, perhaps like Ms. Joke. I find no other plausible explanation as to why you two were talking so fondly this morning."

Izuku takes a very long time to think over everything Shoto was saying to him. It was ridiculous, of course, but why would Shoto think of something like that? Is Katsuki really so harsh that people draw unnerving conclusions after their friendly cooperation? "Fondly? I think Kacchan was just talking normally. And there's no quirk involved, I promise. Kacchan just said he'd be sticking around more after I, you know, collapsed."

Shoto shook his head dismissively. "There has to be another power at work. There is no casual explanation for the way he looked at you."

"Looked at me?"

"Strangely. I've never seen warmth from Bakugo like that before. I assure you, there's something wrong."

The certainty in Shoto's tone made Izuku laugh. He clutches his stomach and giggles, holding the cold can close to his chest. "Todoroki, I can't deal with you sometimes."

"What's so funny?" A colder and more harsh voice asks. Izuku doesn't need the indicator of the familiarity of his tone to explain who it is - only the soothing of his headache. It's Katsuki.

"Hi Kacchan, did you get your lunch?" Izuku asks casually, wiping a tear from his eye.

"What did Icyhot say to make you laugh like that?" Katsuki persists.

Izuku looks around awkwardly. "Well, nothing really. Did you want to sit?" He asks to turn the subject, oblivious to why Katsuki looked so irritated.

Katsuki stands, simmering in his unnamed rage. He frowns, not bothering to even look in Shoto's direction. "Yeah, okay, whatever."

Izuku finds the tone and words and actions of Katsuki easy to ignore, but what's hard to shake is the direct look in Katsuki's eye - like he's staring straight into Izuku's soul. Like he sees something nobody else does.

Perhaps Shoto is full of theoretic nonsense, but there's truth in every lie. And Izuku can't shake the feeling that Shoto is halfway right, that there is something wrong. Izuku just can't place what.

Chapter Text

Katsuki shovels food into his mouth in a hasty yet elegant manner. Quick, and yet he makes no mess as all. He has a lot of food, while Izuku sips on his bubbling can of sugar.

”The hell’s wrong with you?” Katsuki says as he swallows a large mouthful of noodles. “You never eat lunch.”

Izuku winces faintly, “I do, usually.” He says, which is true.

”But not now. Or, anytime I eat with you?” Katsuki says irritably.

”Maybe you’re just off-putting.” Izuku chuckles. Katsuki doesn't find it very funny, and rolls his red eyes.

"Whatever, idiot. Just eat the noodles." He says, pointing at an untouched bowl beside his own. It looks delicious, all noodle and broth and egg and onion. Izuku widens his eyes.

"You got it for me? I wondered why you'd eat two." Izuku squints, grabbing the bowl and a pair of chopsticks.

Katsuki frowns defensively. "I can eat two if I want to!"

"Sure," Izuku shrugs, mouth full of warm noodles. "I know you would."

"The hell's that suppose to mean?"

Izuku swallows his mouthful. "You eat a lot. You always have like, twelve helping's of dinner."

Katsuki frowns, taking in the sounds of the cafeteria. He actually hates being in here, and if he got the opportunity to choose he'd eat outside - but the people who'd call him a friend love to sit in there, and Katsuki got used to it. He'd never admit it, but he was okay with giving up things for his friends. There's a lot he'd give up for Izuku.

"Why do you watch me eat?" He says, scowling. "You know way too much about me."

Izuku only laughs. "I guess so." He bites down on a large mouthful of noodles and pays no mind to Katsuki. Often times, the indifference Izuku was displaying would please Katsuki. Years ago, he'd have done anything for Izuku to care about him just a little bit less. But now, like a greedy and irritable lion waiting for prey, Katsuki would do anything for Izuku just to look at him. It feels immobilising, caring about a person so much, like Katsuki's next breaths are determined by the proximity of him to Izuku. He feels utterly helpless, entirely useless. His every thought is occupied by Izuku and his dumb green hair.

"You're staring." Izuku says flatly, sipping from his bubbling can. Katsuki flusters. Ruining his case, he doesn't speak.

Izuku wonders, suddenly, about the words Shoto spoke to him. How he was bothered about the way Katsuki looked at him. Was it bad? Was something wrong? With Katsuki - with himself? It was new and unnerving and Izuku didn't understand a single thing about Katsuki. Why wasn't he speaking?

"I have something for you." He says suddenly.

Izuku squints. "For me? Like a present?"

"Yeah, I forgot to give it to you."

Izuku is momentarily speechless, staring at Katsuki with an unnamable confusion. His mouth gapes slightly in shock.

"Fuckin' hell, I didn't get you the Mona Lisa." Katsuki huffs defensively. "Calm down."

Izuku waits another moment, like a hesitation on a timer, before the alarm blares and he startles, smiling like crazy. "Kacchan! I can't believe it! Is this a joke, did you really buy something for me?"

Katsuki rolls his eyes, filling his mouth with food to prevent conversation. Did it have to be a big deal? He knew it was, and let the furious burning of embarrassment take over his pale cheeks. Izuku didn't seem to mind, or notice much at all. He laughs giddily, trying, with little luck, to guess what Katsuki had bought him. Perhaps a new notebook or box of pens. He thinks, Katsuki notices, logically and resourcefully. Izuku doesn't assume the gift is one of luxury, he guesses ordinary items. Katsuki wonders if he'll like the present at all, and if he should have bought him a hole-punch or stapler, something useful with purpose and intent.

But Izuku likes All Might - isn't that what matters? 

It's the thought that counts. But did Katsuki really think about it? He saw the thing and bought it, without thinking of what Izuku likes to receive as a present. Izuku, outwardly and currently, likes useful everyday items. A limited edition All Might comic is not ordinary. Katsuki wonders if he's messed the whole thing up.

Unless.

A time in some forgotten period, Katsuki and Izuku were friends. And as little children did, with their imaginative minds and empty wallets, they got creative with birthday presents. It was Izuku's 4th birthday, and Katsuki remembers it very well.

"Izuku, close your damn eyes." Katsuki huffed, pulling a sour face. He held his small arms behind his back, concealing a green and orange box.

"Sorry, Kacchan! I'm so excited!" Izuku giggled, putting small fingers over his eyes, hands hidden behind his messy hair. They were sitting in Izuku's grassy garden, sun blaring over their bodies.

Katsuki waited until he knew Izuku wasn't looking, before placing the box on his lap. Something about Izuku watching him hand over the present made him uneasy - as if it was some admission of vulnerability.

"Kacchan! What is it!" Izuku giggled further.

"Find out." 

Izuku opened his eyes and looked at the messily tied box before him. The orange ribbon was tied in a knot instead of a bow, but despite it's jagged exterior, Izuku thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. "What is it?" He asked excitedly. "Is it a new pen?"

"Why would it be a pen?"

"That's what I asked my mom for, because mine have all broken now. I haven't opened her presents yet - so I don't know if that's what she got me." Izuku shrugged idly, marvelling over the green and orange cube in his lap.

"You'd ask your mom for a stupid pen? For your birthday?" Katsuki frowned.

"I guess so. I need one."

Katsuki shook his head, hair bouncing. "You're supposed to ask for cool shit for your birthday, not what you need."

"Kacchan don't curse."

"Whatever. Just stop asking for lame stuff and ask your mom for something you want." Katsuki decided.

"But I do want the pen, it had green ink and it was super nice." Izuku thought, looking up to the sky.

"But you can get one whenever you want - you can't get a light up All Might action figure whenever you want, so ask for something like that instead."

Izuku slumped a little in his position, pulling a sullen expression. "I guess that makes sense." He thought a while longer before sitting up. "So, can I open it?"

"That's why I gave it to you, yeah."

Izuku grinned, pulling off the orange ribbon. He slowly removed the green lid and widened his eyes at the contents. Made out of paper and card and popsicle sticks was an All Might action figure. It was coloured in using cheap markers, and had a silly drawn face on the front. It took Izuku a while to express it, but he was completely enamoured by his gift.

"What - you hate it?" Katsuki asked defensively.

Izuku carefully took the paper masterpiece from the box and held it in the air. "Hate it? Kacchan, this is the coolest birthday present ever!" Izuku lit up, eyes widening and smile gleaming.

"Seriously? I just made it out of paper."

"I love it! It looks just like him! You're so amazing, Kacchan!" Izuku beamed. "This is exactly what I want, more than my pen! Thank you, Kacchan!"

Izuku looks just as happy now than he did before. He won't tell people, but he likes thoughtful gifts. Something about people knowing him deeply and reflecting that with a gift. Kacchan doesn't worry about his gift anymore, becuase Izuku likes All Might, and comics, and he's missing that one.

"Why," Izuku mumbles. "Why are you looking at me like that?" He says awkwardly, letting out a breathy laugh.

Katsuki stiffens. "Huh?"

"I don't know, you're staring at me. Something on your mind?"

"As if, shut up." Katsuku spits defensively, folding over his arms. "Just eat your stupid food."

Izuku shakes his head with a playful smirk. "You're so dumb."

Despite the whimsical nature of his smile, Izuku feels a bubbling nervousness taking over the space in his stomach. He had to remind himself that he, who dealt with anxiety, would feel more nervous about things than others, and it’s highly likely that he’s worried about something he shouldn’t be. But Katsuki is acting weird, and Shoto noticed too.

What is it that Katsuki is seeing in Izuku that others don’t?

The sun setting cast a warm glow in the hallway. There were bright squares of sun where the window was sectioned cast across the wall. It was nice to look at.

Izuku rests against the wall, waiting for All Might to be ready to speak to him. He asked for Izuku, which wasn’t unordinary, but Izuku wasn’t sure what it was he needed to be seen for.

In the light of the sun, Izuku slowly came to terms with a worrying truth. He missed Katsuki. It was a weird and twisted feeling, but he definitely noticed the absence of Katsuki like a cloud before the sun. It had been sorta nice having him around, like when they were kids. But now he was gone and up to something and Izuku missed him.

Not only that, Izuku felt sick. His head throbbed and his stomach turned. Missing Katsuki didn’t only hurt his heart, but his immune system. 

Something about Katsuki was so magnetic. Izuku yearned to stick by him - it was strange but Izuku felt the way he did when he was a kid, reliant and dependant on Katsuki.

It was weird and unnerving and upsetting, but Izuku smiles when All Might opens the door.

”Young Midoriya! You are here! Come in!” All Might greets, ushering him in as Nezu leaves the office. They were talking about something, and the smell of green tea fills the hallway.

”Hi, All Might.” Izuku says as he sits on the sofa. “What did you need?”

All Might sits too, before Izuku, and pours another glass of tea. “Want some? You look unwell.”

”I am unwell.” Izuku combats idly.

”That’s what I called you in here for, actually.” All Might says, handing Izuku a glass. “How’s it been - dealing with the quirk?”

Izuku doesn’t know how to begin to answer that. So much had happened that his brain couldn’t even keep up. Only days ago was Katsuki smashing his face into the concrete, and only hours ago was he ensuring his health was up to standard.

It’s quiet and Izuku notices he hasn’t said anything, staring at the steam from the tea held between his hands. He gulps. “Interesting.” He says finally, the word speaking much more than intended.

All Might frowns. “Did you and Bakugo make up for his mistake?” He asks slowly. “I never spoke to him about it.”

”Oh, when he went to Hosu? We spoke when I woke up.” Izuku shrugs, sipping on the searing tea, welcoming the burn it encourages all the way down his throat. “Everything’s fine, really. He was super sorry.”

Izuku remembers the hot tears rolling down Katsuki’s face and the desperate pleads pulsing through his hand as he squeezed Izuku’s. Izuku was okay with forgiveness as he knew Katsuki was sorry.

”He was?” All Might asks.

”Yeah - he felt super bad, so I told him it was fine. He’s changed, too. He’s sticking around me more.”

”You look a little pale, is it because Bakugo is far?”

Izuku frowns. “I guess so. I don’t know where he is,” he looks out the window. “I came when you asked, so I just kinda left him.”

All Might nods slowly. “So, it makes you feel sick? Being away from him?”

Izuku laughs uneasily. “Weird to think about, right? But yeah, super sick.” He notes the turn of his stomach and pulsing forehead. His cheeks feel hot, too.

All Might, strangely, laughs. “In America, they used a funny phrase often - Distance makes the heart grow fonder. I always thought it was a sweet idea, how separation from a loved one could actually grow your love, as the time apart will make you realise how much you miss one another.” All Might smiles. “I guess for you, distance makes the heart grow weaker, huh? Makes you sick.”

Izuku squints idly, unsure of what to make of that. “Isn’t that taking about lovers, though? I don’t think my heart is growing weaker away from Kacchan. I don’t think it changes much at all around him.”

All Might laughs condescendingly, like he knows something Izuku doesn’t. The kind of self righteous knowledge elders use against the youth. Like they know more, being more experienced and rugged. “You might think that way, but I would beg to differ.”

Izuku immediately flusters. “What?” He squeaks. “My heart isn’t affected by Kacchan at all, that’s the truth!”

”Young Midoriya, I think you’ll find that isn’t the case. That boy has a major hold on your heart, whether you want to believe it or not. I’ve seen the way you flip when he’s in danger. Foes or friends, Bakugo is important to you - I wouldn’t deny it.” All Might sips his tea casually, like what he’s saying is normal. Like everything’s fine and Izuku’s world isn’t being rocked.

A hold on his heart?

A hold on his heart.

”I don’t know…” Izuku mumbles. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“You won’t,” All Might says in the same condescending attitude. “One day you will. That’s just how love works.”

”I don’t love Kacchan!” Izuku squeals, face pinker than the blush of his fever.

All Might laughs. “No, boy, I know. Love isn’t exclusive to lovers. You’re friends, of course. Don’t get in a frenzy about it.”

Izuku frowns, holding onto his tea a little tighter. “You cant say things like that.”

”Don’t you agree? Are you sure you don’t feel weaker now that Bakugo is not around?” All Might wonders. “I’m sure you’ll say you don’t, but I know you feel it. And I bet he feels it too. That’s just how it is with you two - it’s even a little too complicated for me, and I’ve had some tricky friendships.”

”What’s that even mean?” Izuku says, a little sassier than before. “There’s nothing to not understand. Kacchan is just a little hostile, but it’s no more than that.”

”Sure.” All Might says flatly. “Regardless, I didn’t ask you here to talk about Bakugo, I came to speak about you.”

Izuku looks up, feeling his face cool with the transition of conversation.

”How is the fever? Is it hard to manage?”

”It’s fine most days, just a little hard to focus. But I think after Hosu, it’s gotten worse. Now I feel so sick so quickly when Kacchan is gone.” Izuku sighs. “And that’s hard to manage.”

”How do you feel now? It’s evening time, I’d assume he’s in the dorms. He’s far.”

Izuku focuses on the feeling within him. If he closed his eyes too long, he’d probably drop asleep pretty quickly. And his head throbs like a blaring alarm. He’s not okay in the slightest, and worse than before. “Not great.”

”No? I guess I shouldn’t keep you long.” All Might winces, afraid he’s partly to blame for Izuku’s state, calling him out so far. “You do look very pale.”

Izuku struggles to focus on All Might, only the hot tea in his hands. He feels slow and lethargic. “Mh, I guess so.” He shrugs, sitting up. “I should probably get to bed.”

”That’d be wise.” All Might stands, ready to see Izuku out. The two of them walk to the door before hesitating beside the hinges. All Might wants to say more and Izuku knows it, ready to bare the weight of whatever knowledge he intends to lay over Izuku.

”Don’t be so sure of your feelings, Midoriya.” All Might says on cue, just as dramatic as Izuku thought he would be. Just as vague. “Life will teach you that not everything goes the way you expect, and that’s the beauty of it. Every day is a new experience, a new opportunity to learn things about yourself. So, I don’t want you to sit around thinking you know every angle. Take time to consider how you feel.”

”About what?” Izuku asks before All Might can say more.

”About anything. But mostly, about love.”

Izuku flusters but doesn’t react like before. He doesn’t jump or squirm at the word, only stares toward his idol, wondering on his motive with this. “Love?”

”Don't think too deeply, I don’t want to work you into a frenzy, but you seem too sure when I know you shouldn’t be. Just consider, is all.”

”Consider what? That I love Kacchan? That’s stupid, and ridiculous, and I don’t know why you’re bringing it up. I love him like anyone else would, because he’s impressive and talented, and most people do love Kacchan because of it. I’m no different to the masses, so I don’t need to sit around considering anything.” Izuku huffs, folding his arms.

”That’s one angle.”

”There’s no others.”

All Might waits a while before finishing the conversation, letting the possibilities simmer in the air before putting a lid on them. The tension makes Izuku uneasy. “Sure.” All Might says vaguely. “Best see yourself to bed, Midoriya. It was nice speaking to you.” He smiles.

”Yeah, it was.” Izuku says unnervingly, leaving the room. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

”Indeed!” All Might calls down the hall.

The solidarity that coats Izuku as soon as he’s alone only emphasises the weight of the words burning in his mind.

Love?

Life?

Izuku is too young and too impressionable for that. He gulps at the very thought of new possibilities. The fact he feels so certain on his friendly feelings makes him wonder if All Might could ever be right - that Izuku is too closed minded. That there’s more to his feeling than he understands.

But then again, Izuku knows himself best, and All Might (though largely the most important man in Izuku’s life) doesn’t know as much as him.

Izuku would know best, wouldn’t he?

The thought brings comfort, anyway, as Izuku treks down the hall and back to his dorm.

The sun had fully set when Izuku made it back to the dorm, and he was staring to feel more than uneasy. His steps were wobbly, and he had to take a minute at the entrance of the dorm in order to keep walking. He felt useless. Immobile. There was nothing he could do except accept his condition. Without Katsuki, he was at a loss, and that was just something he had to suffer for another week.

Izuku tried to avoid contact with anyone on the way back to his dorm. He should probably visit Katsuki, help his state, but something about going to him for help felt helpless. He didn’t want to need Katsuki, he wanted to be better.

But, by the steps of the dorm, his vision spots, and he feels the familiar creep of anxiety twitch his body. Izuku grabs the ledge of the stairs and waits for it to pass. He feels like he’s going to wretch.

His vision grows less blurry suddenly, and there can only be one explanation.

”Deku, what the fuck is up with you? Where have you been?” A loud and raspy voice calls, bellowing from behind.

Izuku gulps, but a part of him is glad to have Katsuki so near. Maybe he’ll feel better.

”Are you insane?” Katsuki yells, grabbing Izuku by the arms and twisting him around. Maybe a little too quickly, as his eyes roll in their sockets.

”Kacchan.” Izuku whispers.

”Are you,” Katsuki starts softly, letting Izuku go. “Are you feeling alright? You look awful.”

Izuku steadies himself and takes a long, thin breath. “I’m okay.”

”Don’t lie, you look like death. You’re so pale.” Katsuki says, putting the back of his hand to Izuku’s forehead. “And you’re hot. Why would you run off like that?”

”All Might wanted to see me.”

”So? See him another time. You can’t just stalk off without me.” Katsuki huffs. “It’s dangerous. You could get seriously ill.”

Izuku sighs, one leg starting up the stairs. “It’s fine, Kacchan.” He says, because it’s all he can say. His throat is sore and tired, and his body feels to weak to talk.

”You can’t seriously be considering walking up all those stairs like that.” Katsuki scoffs. “Wait until you’re better, idiot.”

Izuku steps once more, both feet on the first step. Katsuki watches with all the power of a man watching an ant.

Izuku brings his leg up to take another step, hand paling around the railing. Determination pursues him, but doesn’t save him, and the next step is too wobbly to support himself. Izuku slips, tumbling backward down the steps.

Katsuki reaches his arms forward and grabs him, saving him before he smacks against the ground. His eyes widen in shock, worried the situation was more serious than he considered before. “Deku? What the hell?”

Izuku winces in Katsuki’s arms, face laced with pain. “Kacc—“ He whispers, sound strangled and pained.

”Deku?” Katsuki mumbles, adjusting Izuku to carry him bridal style. Miraculously, he doesn’t think about the possibility of others seeing him.

”I’m… sick.” Izuku whispers, face red and hot. “Sick. Will you help me?” He mumbles, eyes firmly shut.

Katsuki starts up the stairs, the extra weight no challenge for him. “Of course.”

The simple words and fading Izuku take him back to the moment in the medical room. When Izuku had just woken up, his weak and suffering body adjusting to consciousness.

Because we’re friends, Kacchan.

Yeah?

Of course.

Katsuki held Izuku just a little tighter, adamant to keep the sentiment. Of course Katsuki would do anything for Izuku. What Izuku didn’t know, was that it was born out of a new and blossoming love - one what he was unaware of.

Katsuki didn’t tell Izuku when they walked past his dorm. He had a different destination in mind.

Katsuki’s dorm is always warm, and perhaps that’s not what Izuku needs. Not with his rising temperature and pinkish cheeks. Katsuki reaches up and opens the window, letting the cold air in.

Izuku slept soundly on Katsuki’s bed. Seeing him there, bundled up in the covers, made an unfamiliar twist irk Katsuki’s stomach. He was almost too small for the bed, being swallowed by the black bedsheets. But Katsuki had always liked beds like that - the sheets swallowed him up, too.

Izuku looked miraculous. Lips parted, hair messy, cheeks pink. He looked a mess, and yet so sweet and elegant. If Katsuki stared too long, he’s sure he’d reach over and touch him. Brush a hand against his face.

But how could he not?

Katsuki places himself on the edge of his bed, just far enough for Izuku not to notice. Luckily, Izuku fell out of exhaustion and not unconsciousness, like before. Katsuki made sure, shaking the boy until he woke, asking him nervously if he was alive. Izuku whispered a response, and Katsuki knew he was in the clear.

He’d feel better eventually now that Katsuki was near, and Katsuki vowed not to leave the bed until Izuku looked less disheveled.

Despite it being Izuku who ran off, Katsuki can’t help but feel responsible for his condition. Perhaps if he hadn’t gone to Hosu, Izuku wouldn’t be so quick to react to the fever. Maybe he would have been well enough to go to bed on his own.

The cold chill of the night seeps through Katsuki’s room, and he hates it. The cold allows for no sweat, and Katsuki would have to have his quirk taken from him. But for Izuku? It was fine. He’d suffer the cold silently.

Katsuki notices the white plastic bag strung on his wardrobe handle. The bag containing the All Might comic. He’d have to give it to Izuku soon. Maybe a third time sorry present.

Katsuki looks back to Izuku and notices the way his skin looks cooler. His breathing is less patchy and his expression seems less pained. The sight of his peaceful sleep relives Katsuki, and he stands. He had a futon under his bed, one Sero leant to him when Kirishima wanted to spend the night - his room had flooded unexpectedly, and needed a place to crash out.

Katsuki makes work of setting it up when he hears a soft clearing-of-a-throat from Izuku. Izuku slits his eyes open, putting a hand out. “What are you doing?” He whispers, his voice sounding unnatural. As if in the short time he was sleeping, he forgot how to speak.

”Nothing. Sleep, Deku.”

Izuku frowns, eyes rolling back in his head as sleep takes over. He shakes his head softly. “Are you going to sleep there?”

Katsuki hums. “Sure, now go to bed.”

”I won’t,” Izuku mumbles. “Not like this.”

Katsuki stands, much taller than Izuku now, and walks over to the bed. He kneels, looking Izuku right in the eye. “Not like what?”

”I don’t want you to sleep on the futon.” Izuku whispers, eyes open a slither. It’s his fever talking, Katsuki can tell by the slur in his voice. “Stay with me, here.”

Katsuki freezes, grateful the darkness of the room can take over his pinking cheeks.

”I want you to sleep here.”

”With you?”

Izuku nods softly. “Don’t sleep on the floor.”

Katsuki gulps slowly, taking in the conversation. “Don’t worry, Deku.” He says lightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “It’s fine with me.”

”But not with me.” Izuku says, grabbing the wrist of the hand Katsuki used to brush away his hair. Katsuki startles at the sudden action. “I told you not to change your schedule for me. Don’t sleep on the floor when your bed’s right here.”

”Deku—“

”I don’t want to feel sick. I’ll feel sick if you’re far.”

Katsuki can’t argue with that. He stands, pulling his hand out of Izuku’s light grip. “Fine.” He mumbles, walking around to the other side of the bed and sliding beside Izuku.

Izuku turns his head over his shoulder softly, eyes barely open. “Thanks, Kacchan.” He whispers, trying to smile.

”Just go to sleep, nerd.” Katsuki whispers back, watching Izuku turn his head round and falling into sleep. Katsuki watches his back rise and fall, unable to see his face.

As he usually does, Katsuki lays on his back, waiting for Izuku to stop shuffling before he relaxes.

It’s hard to relax when your childhood crush is sleeping beside you, but Katsuki manages. He manages most things, even if they’re challenging.

This is new. This is difficult.

But despite the feelings taking over Katsuki’s body, sleep always wins, and he doses off to the sound of Izuku taking in breaths. And the idea that Izuku wanted him here, with him.

What a lullaby.

Chapter Text

Two things worry Izuku when he wakes the next morning. One, most obviously and unavoidably, is the loud blaring of an alarm that shakes Katsuki’s bedside table. He has a cheap digital clock that bellows an awful tune, scattering around like crazy. Izuku reaches his arm to smack the thing, shutting off the mind-numbing sound.

Two, is the warmth he feels beside him. Against him. So close it’s unmistakable. Katsuki’s arm wraps around his waist, his chest against his back, head nestled within his hair.

Katsuki was close, too close. Face flushing-ly close.

Izuku gulps, afraid of moving. It feels as though he’s standing off with a dangerous animal, one that, if he even blinked, would pounce at him. Izuku felt his breath shake, scared that if he caused even a hair too much of noise, Katsuki would wake. He’d be angry at a situation like this - Izuku didn’t want to deal with it.

Katsuki tightens his grip on Izuku’s shirt, worsening the hold he has on Izuku. It was bad, it was nerve wracking. Izuku was loosing a battle to the blush creeping up his face.

He glanced at the plastic clock, the one that flashed with the light of 5AM. Of course, Katsuki slept early and woke early. Izuku had forgotten this, though it wasn’t his idea to stay the night.

“D’the alarm go?” A surprisingly soft voice slurs from behind Izuku.

Izuku couldn’t bring the words to his lips, hands trembling with tension.

”Deku?”

”Yeah— Yup. Alarm.” Izuku blurts out, much louder than the voice Katsuki had adopted. It causes him to stir, shifting onto his back, hand still holding Izuku’s shirt.

”Let’s get up.”

”School doesn’t start for a few hours.” Izuku whispers.

”That’s what’a loser says.” Katsuki mumbles quietly. “We gotta train.”

Izuku winces, the prospect of waking up so early making him nauseous. He did, however, manage to skip training last night. Perhaps it would be good for him.

Katsuki lets go of Izuku finally, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “M’kay. Let’s go.”

”Do we have to?” Izuku tries, groan escaping into his tone.

”Don’t whine, I thought you wanted to be the best, nerd.” Katsuki spits, getting out of bed. “You sound lazy. Pro Hero’s aren’t lazy. Hell, All Might isn’t—“

”Okay, okay,” Izuku sighs. “I get it.”

The two slip out of bed and Izuku runs to turn on the light. He’s in his day-prior clothes, and could probably do with an outfit change.

”Where are we going to train?” Izuku asks.

”Outside.” Katsuki says vaguely, looking through his closet.

”Can I go back to mine and get some clothes?” Izuku asks, as if he needs to ask, as if he wouldn’t do it if Katsuki said no. “I’d rather not train in this.”

Katsuki looks over, clearly still half asleep and twice as judgemental. He gives Izuku a once-over and clicks his tongue. “Sure, quickly.”

Izuku leaves with pace, mind still scrambled from the way he woke, waist still warm in the absence of Katsuki’s arm.

Outside, in the vauge and mysterious area that Katsuki somehow hinted two, Izuku saw Katsuki preparing himself. It was still dark, and the birds hadn’t yet woken to share their morning song.

When Katsuki came into full view, Izuku couldn’t shrug the feeling he’d been putting off all the while as he got ready.

Couldn't shake the feeling of being pressed against Katsuki. Couldn't shake the feeling of his words whispered into Izuku’s hair.

It was no surprise that when Katsuki saw him, he noted the peculiar blush on his cheeks. “The hell’s wrong with you? Are you actually sick?”

“No!” Izuku says too quickly, too nervously, looking anywhere but Katsuki. “I left the heating on in my room so it was very hot in there.” He waves his hands around skittishly.

”Right. Well get over yourself, we’re gonna fight.” Katsuki says casually.

”Fight? At quarter past five? In the morning?” Izuku drawls. “Can’t we just… kick stones?”

”Shut it. Head to head combat is the best way to develop. Kirishima usually fights me in the mornings.” Katsuki adds, a twisted insensitive to get Izuku into position.

Izuku takes the bait. “He does?”

”Yeah. Usually, he’s the one with me. Not you.”

Izuku feels the all too familiar twang of jealously take over his body. Something about Katsuki, the person who occupies most of his brain, training routinely with someone else makes him go a little haywire.

A hold on your heart.

Izuku shrugs the thought. “So, you train with him every morning?”

Katsuki smirks. “Pretty much. I had to tell him not to come today.”

”Why?”

”To train with you. So, make it count. I don’t take lightly to people wasting my time.” He, finally, looks away, unsure if this confession was too much.

Izuku, however, smiles as if some weight had been washed off him. “Okay, Kacchan. I will.” Izuku says with a newfound determination, sparking up the embers of One for All.

Katsuki readies into position too, prepared to win and win well.

It’s tangible seconds before the two go head to head. Sparks of orange and green light up the dark morning, bringing colour to the empty garden. Katsuki swings, arms bare in his plain tank, free from his usual gauntlets.

Izuku, in his plain shirt and old shorts is also unused to fighting without his costume. There’s something strange about it, something wrong. Like eating dinner for breakfast, or drinking coffee at night. Something strange yet totally legal.

They collide frequently and powerfully, Izuku’s quirk landing forceful blows, while Katsuki uses his explosions to ward Izuku away.

Izuku tries to include a range of punches and kicks, knowing Katsuki doesn’t like to deal with both. Miraculously, it seems to be working, and Katsuki looks more pent up by the second. But when Izuku falters on one of his signature kicks, Katsuki seizes the opportunity to blast him, sending him reeling to the ground.

Izuku sits up in the dewy grass, clothes soaking in the beads of water. He wipes his face of sweat and gets up, baring fists to fight Katsuki.

”Stop going easy on me.” Izuku mutters.

”You noticed?”

Katsuki, by request, sends a larger blast Izuku’s way. But Izuku jumps from the collision and attacks Katsuki from the side. Katsuki is unable to block the blow in time, and reels back from the punch.

”I said stop it.” Izuku says teasingly, knowing Katsuki was, in fact, not going easy on him there. Katsuki lost fair and square.

”Shut it, nerd.” Katsuki retorts, growing in impatience. He sends a small explosion inbetween them and steps forward to attack Izuku. Within the smoke and sparks, Izuku is unable to see Katsuki lunging toward him, and staggers back as Katsuki tackles him to the ground.

Holding Izuku’s wrists to the grass, it’s almost a direct reflection of their fight in Ground Beta, all those months ago. Izuku huffs below Katsuki, taking the time to get his bearings.

Katsuki tightens his grip. “I win, nerd.”

Izuku wants to say something back, wants to combat or fight or wriggle his way free. But he’s stuck, motionless, staring at big red eyes. Like a deer in the headlights, Izuku feels his mouth go dry. What could you possibly say in the face of such beauty?

Izuku doesn’t want to think about it now. Not in this moment. Not here. But the feeling of Katsuki close still lingers from the morning. The feeling of his presence against his own.

Waking up and feeling safe. And secure. And loved. It’s a dangerous thing to think about, especially as Katsuki holds him to the ground.

”Spit it out, nerd. Why are you staring like that?” Katsuki says quietly.

Izuku burns below him, unable to conjure up sensible words. “You— You’re…” Izuku stutters.

Katsuki raises his brow.

Izuku wants to ask why he did what he did, why he woke in his arms. But he can’t and he won’t and so he slurs. “Well done for winning.” He smiles shakily, cheeks tinged with pink.

Katsuki frowns. “You get freakier everyday.” He groans, stepping up from his twisted position and brushing the grass from himself. “Come on, we need to get ready for school now.”

Izuku sits up on the wet grass, body half visible in the darkness. “Sure.” He stands, not bothering to clear himself of mud. “We’re doing stealth missions today.”

Katsuki and him head back inside, walking in step as though they’re the same. It’s a weird thing, to be so familiar with someone so different - like Othello and Iago, partnering despite their wild differences. Its been years since the two of them got along in simple silence.

”Yeah?” Katsuki hums. “I hate stealth.”

Izuku giggles. “I know you do. Won’t you just try and do well?”

”What’s the point? I’m not training for stealth, anyway.”

”It’s a useful skill.” Izuku chimes.

”Don’t care.”

As the round off before the dorms, Katsuki takes note to follow Izuku to his room. Some would say walk him, but Katsuki doesn’t want to make believe that Izuku is some kind of pet. If Izuku notices the strangeness of Katsuki staying so close, he makes no show of it.

Izuku puts a hand to his door, only then turning to truly notice Katsuki. Something about him walking beside seemed so natural - hardly noticeable.

”Kacchan?” Izuku says, eyeing Katsuki as he stood like a lost child.

He looked to the side, mouth slightly parting as if he had something to say. “About last night,” he chokes out, face flushing.

Izuku feels his heart plummet, not ready to face confrontation in this way. Will Katsuki blame him? Think he’s a freak? Claim he’s some creep who can’t get enough of him? The horrors of what Katsuki could say start to overwhelm him, rising panic through his body.

”I know it was an accident, and I wouldn’t have done something like that usually, but…” Katsuki continues, pulling the collar of his shirt from his neck.

Izuku bites his lip in freakish anticipation, worried like a gazelle on the river bank, just as prepared to flee.

”But you can stay anytime you want.” Katsuki says finally, and Izuku starts to wonder if he’s got it all wrong. “Usually I hate guests, in-fact I always hate guests, but if it’ll make you feel less sick you can spend the night. You were pretty insistent that I don’t sleep on the futon, but I’m pretty used to it and I guess it’s not a problem. So, there’s that.”

Izuku squints, now totally convinced he’d misread the entire situation. Katsuki doesn’t have a clue what Izuku is thinking of - he’s forgotten everything in a hazy sleep induced state. Ridiculous. Izuku worked him self up about nothing.

”Well? Fuckin’ say something.” Katsuki spits.

”Oh! Yeah, no that’s nice, Kacchan. I’d like that.” Izuku says before he can think.

Katsuki nods pointedly. “Good. Fine.” He mutters, folding over his arms. “Shower, too.” He says with a scowl.

Izuku frowns. “Don’t be too charming, I can’t take it.” Izuku says sarcastically, clicking open his door. He leaves with a strange sense of unease. As if he’s gotten what he wanted in the wrong way. Would it be better if Katsuki knew about how they woke up? Or maybe it’d be better swept under the rug.

Whatever it should be, Izuku hoped it would lift from his shoulders by the time he left the shower.

They were lucky for a sunny day. With Aizawa busy helping Present Mic with something ridiculous, the students of 1-A were left waiting in the entrance of Ground Beta.

”Man! I wish he’d just cancel the lessons when he was busy.” Ochako groans, whining into the sky.

”I think a moment is never wasted. This is a useful experience for us.” Iida adds characteristically.

”Baking like sausages in the sun while we wait for our teacher? Real useful. Guess I should start taking notes.” Izuku says, arms folded and just as sassy as ever.

Ochako always finds Izuku’s bursts of dryness amusing, and giggles beside him. “You’re right. This is completely useless.”

”Aizawa would trade us for Mic any day, though.” Tsuyu added miserably. She didn’t much like the baking sun - being a sorta frog and all.

”You can say that again.” Ochako sighs loudly.

”I like it in the sun.” Shoto adds idly, looking at something in the distance. His ease and simple nature shocked anyone he spoke to. “It’s rare to have such a warm day.”

”But I’m bored!” Ochako groans, flailing her arms into the air and sitting down on the floor. “Stealth missions are my favourite, too. I wanna do something!”

Izuku, just as miserable, sits beside her. They find a comfortable position of leaning on each-others backs, heads meeting behind them. They both sit with their knees to their chest, arms hugging their legs close.

”I’m not to big a fan of stealth, actually. My quirk isn’t really… stealthy.” Izuku mumbles, heat from the sun slurring his words.

”Yeah? I think it could be stealthy.” Ochako mumbles back. “The power is all inside your body, so no one will see it coming so long as you’re quiet. See with someone like Tokoyami, you’d totally see dark shadow.”

”True.” Izuku retorts. “I guess I can only try my best.”

The sun, weirdly hot for a spring day, entices an eerie warping above all surfaces. The crickets sing in the background, and the students cook like cupcakes.

Izuku wipes sweat from his forehead. “I could do with a drink.”

Ochako makes a strangled sound. “Anyone could. Ugh— a glass of water.”

”Or lemonade. Sour lemonade.” Izuku whispers, trying to taste the sensation on his tongue.

They lean back into eachother, swapping misery for misery.

The students of 1-A all huddled in their little groups, a few others deciding that sitting was a good idea, too. The rest of Izuku’s friends wandered off a little further and discussed something quite animatedly. The other members of the class all shared simple conversations - but one was louder than the others.

Mina jumps and sings, a story bouncing from her lips as if she was experiencing it right there and then. Her friends encourage it, egging on her wild tale. Izuku spots Sero and Denki, eager with anticipation. Whereas Kirishima and Katsuki hung back, watching the story unfold from afar.

It’s not long before they begin to share quiet mumblings. Probably, and logically, they would be sharing comments on the situation unfolding, but Izuku feels a desperate yearning inside him, more intense than most emotions.

He almost needs to know what they’re talking about. He needs to know what Kirishima could say to make Katsuki smile. Needs to know what he has that makes Katsuki want to stand so close. Needs, wants, relies on, the information bouncing between them. It’s a ridiculously unnerving emotion.

”Uraraka?” Izuku says, distaste unmistakable in his tone. “If you shared a bed with a friend, say you were crashing out there one night - would it be weird to wake up with their arms around you?”

Ochako isn’t phased by the question. If she is, anyway, she doesn’t seem it. “How close is the friend?”

”Incredibly.”

”Maybe not weird, then. I guess it depends on how they are. If I woke up Mina’s arms around me, I’d probably believe that’s just something Mina would do. But say, I don’t know, Jiro - I’d be a little confused.”

”What if you were best friends?” Izuku asks vaguely.

Ochako takes a moment to process the question, red thread tying together possible reasons for Izuku’s question. “Depends, again. If they’re a touchy person, I’d be cool with it. But if they weren’t…”

”What do you think it could mean?” Izuku asks slowly. He thinks, idly, about his strange conversation with All Might. The man’s encouragement to look at things in all different angles. Maybe he was right - maybe there’s explanations Izuku is missing.

”Are you asking for a friend?” Ochako asks in code, lucky her smirk isn’t visible.

”Sure.”

”I’d probably question it.”

Izuku takes a moment to process. “Question how?”

”Like, what that friend really thinks of you, you know?” Ochako shrugs, and Izuku can feel her back moving his. “If you wake up in an anti-huggers arms, I’d be skeptical on the stance of your relationship.”

”But—“ Izuku starts, noting how he begins to sound much too defensive. He takes a breath. “But what’s that even mean? The stance of your relationship?”

Ochako sighs. “Deku, to be blunt, I mean I’d question if they’re into you or not.”

Izuku flusters, sitting up straight and detaching himself from his position against Ochako. She turns to look at him over her shoulder, watching his pinking cheeks. “Kacchan isn’t into me, quit that!”

Ochako smirks. “Kacchan, huh? Thought this was for a friend.” She teases.

Izuku stills before accepting defeat. He sighs long and sore, and Ochako turns fully to face him. They sit cross legged on the hot concrete, no longer sharing mural misery. “Guess I slipped up, huh?”

Ochako can’t help her childlike grin. “Deku!” She squeals. “Tell me everything!”

Izuku flusters, looking over his shoulder at Katsuki. He seemed preoccupied with Kirishima, and Izuku couldn’t determine whether that was a good thing or not.

”Not here.” He mumbles sheepishly.

”You shared a bed? He had his arms around—“ Ochako is stilled when Izuku clamps a hand over her mouth.

”You’re way too loud!” He whisper-yells. “He’s gonna hear you. He didn’t even remember.”

”Huh?”

”Kacchan, when we woke up, he acted like nothing happened at all. I know him, if he noticed what happened, there’s no way he could be casual about it.” Izuku sighs. “I just have to deal with this information all on my own.”

”Well not anymore, silly, you can tell me all about it!” Ochako giggles.

”Well, you get to know out of fun gossip. I have to deal with the consequences.” Izuku says flatly.

Ochako shrugs lightly. “If he doesn’t remember, there’s no consequences.”

”I guess.”

Before Ochako can speak again, the once anticipated face of Aizawa breaks into the maddening scene. The class sigh a sore relief, but Ochako slumps, sad she has to wait so long to hear the end of the story.

”I’m sorry for leaving you out in the sun, I didn’t expect my consultation to take as long as it did, but alas.” Aizawa groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Regardless, today we will be exploring stealth operations. Please can you all stand in a group while I explain how we are going to run the course of the lesson.”

It didn’t get any cooler, and Izuku began to sweat through his suit in a miserable and uncomfortable manner. He stood, shoulders slumped and arms crossed, waiting for Aizawa to finish explaining.

The task was simple. Inside a building was a hostage, guarded by a scary villain. The only way to save the hostage without provoking violence (and therefore potential casualties) is to sneak in and free the hostage before the villain can notice. Sounds simple, but application seems more daunting than most tasks.

It almost felt impossible to save a hostage right under someone’s nose, but Aizawa expected it to be done and therefore it had to be. Working in pairs allowed for learning teamwork. Katsuki wasn’t all about it.

”Fuckin’ ridiculous. There’s one villain - can’t I just burst in there and knock him for six? Damn hostage can be freed much faster.” Katsuki grumbles under Aizawas speech. He was standing beside Izuku, but talking to Kirishima.

Funny, that.

”I mean seriously - how the hell is stealth a better option when there’s one damn guy? Fucking snowflakes in this damn school are scared of violence. How can you ever hope to become a hero without gettin’ dirty?” He continues on, arms tightening in their folded stance. There’s a long pause, a tense one. “Earth to Deku?”

Izuku jolts, alarmed at the sound of his name. Katsuki was talking to him? For some reason he had been so sure Katsuki has wanted to speak to Kirishima over him.

A small feeling of jealousy subsided. Izuku hasn’t noticed it until it left.

”Oh, yeah.” Izuku nods absentmindedly.

”Oh yeah? Can’t you say something with substance?” 

Izuku finally looks at Katsuki, eyes squinting. “I think you’re wrong, if that’s substance. This mission is the worst case to use violence, ever.”

Katsuki immediately frowns. “Worst ever? Have you lost your whole mind?”

”In this situation, it’s integral you don’t arouse fear and chaos for the hostage. They’re probably scared for their life - I’d assume they’d already come to terms with the face they’re not making it out alive. In that mindset, any violence, even in their favour, is terrifying. They’re on edge and scared. What you need to do is show you have total control.” Izuku shrugs. “So, stealth is super important. Shows you know what you’re doing, all while remaining calm.”

Katsuki processes. “But there’s one villain?”

”Sure, but we know that because Aizawa told us. In real life? There could be more. There is thousands of possibilities you’re not catering for. Stealth is the best possible way to deal with a situation like this." Izuku decides. Sometimes, he liked debating things with Katsuki. Sometimes, Katsuki had a sensible view on things. But right now, Izuku wanted him to say no more. There's merit to every opinion, however Katsuki's unhinged approvals of violence didn't sit right with Izuku.

He waits for a confident arrival of why I'm right's and why you're wrong's, and yet, there was silence between them. Katsuki, with his stubbornly folded arms and signature scowl, didn't say a word.

"Kacchan?"

"You're probably right." Katsuki admits. "I would scare the shit outta a hostage." He says complacently. Not kindly, nor sweetly, but calmly. As if he means what he says. "Stop gaping, nerd. You know more about this logistical nonsense than I do, you can't be that shocked."

Izuku widens the space between his top and bottom set of teeth, pushing his head forward for dramatics. "Kacchan agrees with me?"

"Kacchan wants you to shut your trap." He spits back, staring forward.

"Wow," Izuku grins. "What's gotten into you? Where's Kacchan and what have you done with him?" Izuku teases.

Katsuki would have liked to have made a condescending or bitter comment, but he didn't get the room to. The only person he could ever imagine ruining this moment was the one standing in front of him. Well, in front of Izuku - which was somehow worse.

"Midoriya, would you like to be my partner?" Shoto asks in his cool and smooth voice. Like he's oblivious to the volcano he's activating just next door.

The two of them hadn't realised that their quiet ramblings had outlasted Aizawa, and people were now grouping into pairs. Aizawa had frequently been letting the students pick their own groups, as it allowed them to discern who they think they'd work well with best on their own. That's why Shoto stood there. Izuku, however, jumps.

"Oh, really? Yeah, I don't mind!" Izuku says complacently. Truth is, he'd like greatly to work with Shoto - the boy was very talented.

"Great, well-"

"Hold on," Katsuki interrupts, hand breaking away from its tight clasp over Katsuki's chest and into the air. Much like Iida, though he'd hardly admit that. "Find your own fuckin' partner before stealing another's."

Shoto cocks his head simply. 

"Deku's taken, Icyhot." Katsuki says, with no real regard to the underlying presumption a remark like that leaves. Izuku gets it, though, face burning and blushed. Shoto does, too, knitting his eyebrows. "Fuck off and bother someone else."

"We-" Izuku starts before choking on his own rosy cheeks. "We're partnered?"

"Obviously."

There's a silence that only holds an air of perplexation for Izuku and Shoto. Katsuki does just fine in his own blissful quiet. Shoto gives Izuku an accepting shrug. "Oh, look at that," he says as monotonously as he can. Sarcastically. "Sero wants to be my partner." He says as a get out card, hoping Sero would accept him.

Shoto leaves quietly and the two are left to each other. "Can you believe that guy? I don't know where he gets off being so obnoxious." Katsuki scoffs, which is ironic, as Shoto is almost certainly the least obnoxious person ever.

Izuku feels his face heating as the words so imprinted in his being swim around his mind. Deku's taken. How could it ever be okay to say something like that so off-handedly? Izuku wants to drown in his own pool of confliction. I'd question if they were into you or not. Gosh, this was too much.

"Obviously?" Izuku questions barbarically later. He has to reiterate after Katsuki shoots him a weird look. "Obviously you're my partner?"

Katsuki takes a while but he nods, as if Izuku had asked him if the sky was really blue, and was trying to work out if Izuku was messing with him or just super dumb. "Yeah."

"Obviously?" Izuku stresses, feeling the heat cool on his cheeks as he verbalises his confusion.

Katsuki begins to grow irritable. "Yeah, obviously. You'd sooner partner with me than that half-and-half asshole, I'd hope." Katsuki shrugs stiffly, like he's trying to convince himself, too. "And anyway, you're sick. That's why it's obvious."

"Oh," Izuku sighs. "That's right." He smiles, clicking together his misconceptions and thoughts that went haywire. "I'm sick."

It wasn't very fun watching Toru sneak and free the hostage. She was completely invisible, and most of the students didn't realise she was on screen until the hostage slowly fled from the scene. It was impossible for her not to come out on top, and everyone waited for her big success to arrive. Her and Ochako had partnered up, mastering some plan of floating distractions and sightless saving. Izuku was wonderfully impressed, and made a mental note to tell the two of them how cool he thought they were.

He wouldn't be able to say it soon, however, as him and Katsuki were up next. They stood by the door to the hijacked building eerily, one more nervous than the other. "Kacchan, what's our plan?" Izuku whispers.

"Plan? I don't know. Go in and get the hostage?" Katsuki drawls with an unamused frown.

"Shut up," Izuku sighs as if Katsuki was joking. "We need a proper plan. Some sort of distraction and a plot to save the hostage."

Katsuki, actually, thinks about it. "I could blow up a corner of the building, get him lookin' elsewhere."

"A plan with as little destruction as possible. If the villain feels threatened, he might harm the hostage."

"So... what?" Katsuki leans against the entrace walls.

Izuku, as per, begins to mumble a string of detached sentences, hoping to come to a solution. Katsuki zones it all out, used to the low murmur of Izuku's frequency. Suddenly, he stops, peering sheepishly though a small window. "Do you think you could walk around to the other end of the building - by that window?" Izuku asks, pointing in the glass. Katsuki sees a similar window just before them, matching on the opposing wall.

"Why?"

"I think if you make small explosions, enough to generate some sizeable smoke, the villain will quickly check it out. In that time, I can grab the hostage and run, fast with my quirk in my legs, and be out of the place using no violence." Izuku shrugs over his plan.

"Why would that unit check out some stupid smoke?" Katsuki whispers back, remarking the large size of the villain they faced. He was tall and round, and towering over the poor woman tied up on the ground.

"Could be a fire, or a hero, or something. To him, there's no one around, so he'd probably check it out in all the spare time he's got." Izuku combats.

"But he's being paid to do this - he knows the smoke could only be a student trying to beat him." Katsuki rolls his eyes. "That's just a mouse walking into a trap with no cheese in it."

"True, but he'll be understanding I'm sure. What's the worst that could happen, you look a little useless? If he doesn't check it out just come back and we'll make a new plan." Izuku says complacently, pleading a little with Katsuki. Because no one could ever say no to his soft green eyes, Katsuki huffs and stalks off around the building, mumbling 'just a little smoke' like a crazy person.

Izuku feels nervous, but nothings real at the end of the day. It's a disadvantage that Izuku doesn't know the villains quirk, but he doesn't intend to engage in close combat, anyway. He waits by the door, watching the opposing window, looking for the smoke Katsuki intents to waft through the window. It takes a while, but small sparks of orange scatter past the window like passing bugs. That's attention grabbing. Then, dark smoke wades into the room and up past the glass. The villain huffs.

He walks with furious purpose, and Izuku knows there's no better time than this. He softly opens the door, slipping into the room without a sound. He charges up OFA in his legs as the villain peers outside. He has one chance only. "Don't worry, Miss. Be quiet." Izuku smiles before her, grabbing the woman under her arms and turning to leave. There's no time to untie her, no time to explain. He needs to grab and jump and run, before the villain can-

-head toward Izuku with murderous fury.

Izuku yelps, almost dropping the woman. He wants to run, and charges his legs to move, but the villain extends a hand and shoots an awful rope from the tips of his fingers, binding Izuku in a string of failure. He rounds the rope up to the ceiling, having Izuku hang from the ceiling like a pirates prisoner. His chest is wrapped round and arms glued to his sides, spinning like a lightbulb from the lantern.

Katsuki enters not too long after and, of course, resorting to violence. He shoots an explosion for the guy, but he too is bound as easily as one would tie a lace. Subject to the same fate as Izuku, he swings along side him, hands to tight to his body to eject any useful explosion. Izuku could probably break free, using the power from OFA to snap the rope, but he's too high up to land a fall successfully. There's nothing to do but hang.

"I wish he'd tied off my neck too so I could die of suffocation rather than embarrassment." Katsuki says dryly. "Some fuckin' plan, nerd."

"Well- It's not like you had one!" Izuku spits back, equally embarrassed.

"I did have one! Violence!" Katsuki yells, swinging vigorously as he shouted.

Izuku lets out an irritated groan. "This is a stealth mission."

"Fuck if I care about stealth, I care about saving people!" Katsuki groans, facing the other way to Izuku as he swung too hard.

Izuku bites his bottom lip, arms aching from rope burn. Katsuki was right, what mattered about being a Hero was results, not rules. Who cares what they were supposed to do if the woman runs free. Aizawa wouldn't be happy, but he'd be sadder if they failed. Determination is what drives Izuku - and how dumb he currently looks. "Okay, fine, new plan." Izuku starts, kicking Katsuki lightly to spin him back around. "When the villain is under me, I'll break free and jump on his back. Immediately he'll fight, wrapping me up, but if I'm quick enough I could redirect his rope onto himself."

"How?" Katsuki says flatly, and a little skeptically.

"Somehow."

"Right."

"That's when I'll free you-"

"I don't need freeing, asshole." Katsuki spits. But as the words leave his mouth, tied to a ceiling, nobody would be able to believe him.

Izuku nods slowly, a curtsey. "Well, I'll do it anyway, and you can grab the hostage and we'll be outta here." 

Katsuki rolls his eyes, hard to see behind his mask. "So fuckin' dumb, whatever."

"That's a yes?"

"That's a hurry up."

Izuku nods vehemently, looking down at the whereabouts of the villain, he's not far and looking at each and every exit. Problem? He's not moving. There's no way Izuku could land on him if he doesn't stand under him. He has one shot and one only. The muffled and thankfully fake cries of the hostage remind him of his goal, and he begins swinging like a kid for momentum. It's hard to calculate distance, but when Izuku is sure he'll land a hit, he charges OFA through his body, breaking the ropes and the last second and flying toward the enemy.

Katsuki is sad that Izuku gets to look cooler than him.

Izuku lands on the large villain, wobbling on his back. As expected, he shoots rope from his fingers, grunting like there's a fly on his shoulder. Izuku focuses OFA into his hand and grabs the rope with his newfound ease. The rope continues to grow, and he whips it like a lasso around the villains body. He looks like a man conquering a shark. Katsuki could only be sadder.

When the villain is bound he tumbles, and Izuku jumps from him swiftly, landing on the floor like a feather. He even waves at Katsuki, as if that wasn't the coolest thing anyone has ever done. Izuku made sure the rope bound his hands to save from being strung up again, and he walks down to the woman.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry this happened to you, it must be scary." Izuku says sweetly, untying the rope from her mouth. "But you're safe now."

The woman wipes fake tears and thanks Izuku profusely, before looking at his partner hanging like a bat from a pipe on the roof. Izuku chuckles, standing and walking back to the abandoned accomplice.

"What are you doing up there, Kacchan?" Izuku asks teasingly, knowing it's probably not the time to joke.

"Fucking hell asshole get me down!" Katsuki yells, muffled by his struggling. Izuku smiles one last time, grateful that all footage of training is recorded and filed. He lifts up a hand, flicking embers of OFA toward the top rope with his middle finger and thumb. The rope snaps, and Katsuki falls ungracefully.

Izuku catches him as easily as someone who threw a tennis ball into the air. It's humbling.

Held bridal style, and muffling his overwhelming embarrassment, Katsuki rolls his eyes. "Put me down." He says roughly, the pink in his cheeks sliding into his speech. It has to be hard accepting that Izuku can hold all 180lbs of him without demonstrating struggle. It's harder to accept he can hold more.

But acceptance and appreciation are different things, and Katsuki's heart doesn't mind the idea of it. Half the blood in his cheeks is down to admiration. Fawning swooning doting. When he's placed on the floor, he grabs the small fabric covering his heart. It feels like it's melting, falling like sand between your fingers. This is awful, this is deadly.

"Kacchan? Let's go." Izuku says softly, pointing his head at the woman still bound on the floor. "Are you okay?" He says quietly, warmly, sweetly. It sounds like honey falling from his lips. As if Izuku is directly pouring hot oil into Katsuki's blood stream with every small word. Katsuki feels it, feels his face burning and heart beating. His hand falls from his heart. He stares, swallows thickly.

"I'm okay." He almost whispers. The words sound desperate, smooth and sultry. Like he forced them out. Izuku's face scrunches, as if he can't quite work out the problem. But at the forefront of his mind is the hostage, and with quick thin smile, he bounces away, aiding their primary goal.

Katsuki thinks if he moves his legs he'll fall. And maybe he has fallen already. Maybe this isn't something he can pass over, like waiting for a cold to reside. Katsuki thinks there's nothing in the world he wants more than to fall completely, loose it all, get sucked into the honey of Izuku's voice.

He's in love.

Whipped.

Chapter Text

When Izuku can't think, he writes. Maybe it's contradictory, as to write you need to think, but it's the same way as in one needs to swim to drown. Izuku can't handle too many thoughts at once, his overactive mind finds it as easy as storing mail in a tin can. And with the countless things people had said to him over the coming days, it was impossible not to splurge them all out in his tattered notebook.

He wrote everything in there. Not only was it hero stuff, but personal stuff too. One page may be on Edgeshot, but it's opposing side could be a furious ramble about how he doesn't understand maths. His whole life is documented in the charred book - better than any photo album.

The page looks chaotic. Much akin to those dingy basement workshops, where a man has gone mad with newspaper pages, red string, and blurred photos, pinned on an old corkboard, Izuku's notebook is clattered. There's quotes here and there, situations too deeply explained, and feelings too openly documented, covering the paged in almost smudged ink. Atop the sea of misunderstanding is a title - What Is Wrong With Kacchan?

It would be murderous if Katsuki ever looked at the notebook, but burning it was enough for him, and he hadn't touched the thing since.

Izuku deliberates on the mess of things people had said to him, most of all the strange knowing All Might presented to him. Was he right? Did Izuku misunderstand himself? Is there really more to the way he feels? Surely if All Might thinks it, there has to be some credit to it. And Ochako? Who thinks the issue of last night wasn't totally casual? Not to mention Shoto's wild understanding that Katsuki looks at him funny?

It was becoming too much to handle.

Problems don't get solved until you face them head on, and the problem? People think Katsuki is... into him.

Izuku couldn't even put the words into writing, afraid that spelling them out could bring them to life like some ancient witches curse. Well, was it such a curse? Surely finding out Katsuki liked Izuku was better news than being hated, but there was something uneasy about it. What if it messed everything up, and they never got the opportunity to be friends? Katsuki would never face Izuku again if he confessed to unreciprocated feelings.

And they were unreciprocated... Right?

That boy has a major hold on your heart, whether you want to believe it or not.

All Might had spoken to him only a day before, siting some philosophical wisdom that Izuku wasn't fond of. What he wasn't fond of, really, was indulging in his own feelings. Izuku had never much liked it, afraid he'd realise things about himself he didn't need to. Part of being a hero was putting on a brave face, and that was made much easier if you didn't think about the things you were supposed to be brave from. Izuku realised this the first time he faced hardship - being diagnosed as quirkless. It was much easier to look forward to enrolling in UA, rather than think about how impossible it would be. It was easier to think about gratitude, rather than how far behind he was with his classmates, who all had a grasp on their own quirks. It's easier to think Katsuki hates him, rather than something different. It's easy to believe Izuku doesn't feel the same.

Don't be so sure of your feelings, Midoriya.

If Izuku truly had to think, it would be difficult to pinpoint how he felt himself. He did love Katsuki, sometimes more than anything, but was that enough? Katsuki was, ultimately, everything to Izuku. His image of victory, his personal hero, and - to him - his best friend. It is easy to say Izuku loves him, harder to choose why.

Izuku scribbles in his notebook, cluttering the page with mindless notes on love. Izuku doesn't know what he's talking about, not really. He's been into people, he'd even had his first kiss, but it wasn't love. Not like this... But what's like this? Why does it feel so different to think about Katsuki than it does somebody else?

You seem too sure when I know you shouldn't be.

It was growing too much. Izuku isn't sure if the twist in his stomach was down to a mixture of feelings, or because Katsuki was far. One or the other - or both. Izuku looks out the window where he sat on the large window sill. It was dark, and the moon hung high in the sky. Through the glass, Izuku could see the stars. One was brighter than the others. It stuck out like a trophy on a podium. It took up most of one's attention, and Izuku found himself forgetting about the other stars. How could you consider looking at the others, when one is so bright and shiny? It was like a magnet, drawing everything into its sphere of influence. Izuku thought, idly, that he liked the star much more than the other ones.

Realisation dawns heavy and sore.

"Don't you fuckin' eat?" An all-too familiar voice draws from beside Izuku. It's Katsuki - of course it's Katsuki. When Izuku looks at him, he can't repress the lump in his throat any longer. "I swear to god, you're never at dinner."

"Neither are you." Izuku mutters, uncomfortable yet wordless to how Katsuki sits in front of him, leaning on the other end of the window sill.

"At least I eat." Katsuki says sourly.

"I.. I do eat." Izuku almost whispers, unable to trail his voice from it's dream-like noise. He sounds out of it, he feels out of it. "I just eat super late, when you're sleeping. Speaking of, shouldn't you have gone up to bed like an hour ago?" Izuku gains confidence again, drawing into the familiarity of speaking to Katsuki.

"I had somethin' to do. And anyway, I can't just leave you high and dry." Katsuki shrugs against the wall. Their legs hardly fit in the ledge together, bent knees bashing together. Izuku hadn't noticed their contact.

"You can." Izuku says idly. "Go to bed, I mean."

Katsuki winces. "I don't want you to faint and die all while I'm sleeping sound. I'm not that harsh."

Izuku only shrugs. He'd always been pretty selfless. A little too selfless, if you asked Katsuki. A silence encompasses the both of them, both experiencing different levels of unease. Izuku finds himself gazing out the window again, to the bustling trees in the crisp wind, adamant not to look again at the star. That damn star.

Katuski finds his unease is born out of worry. The concept alone is new and unfamiliar, but not entirely foreign. Izuku looks troubled. His eyes look a little too wide, his breaths a little too shallow. Something's on his mind. "Are you.. feeling alright?" Katsuki asks.

Izuku looks back, sudden humility filling his features, as if someone switched him on. "Oh, yeah! I felt a little queasy a minute ago, but you're here now." Izuku says, suddenly cheery. At least, something close to it, anyway.

"Not sick, I mean... Okay."

"Okay?" Izuku questions lightly. Softly. Scared to commit to the question incase he doesn’t like the answer. As nervously as one feeding a lion, frightened for their own hand to be mistaken and gnawed with the steak.

”I don’t know. Like…” Katsuki grunts, unsure himself on what he means. All the wants to know is why Izuku looks so sullen, is that worry? “Are you sad?”

”Do I look sad?” Izuku asks instead. He had always had an awful habit of asking questions instead of statements when he didn’t feel like answering.

Katsuki knows this. He knows what Izuku is hiding, too. “Yeah.”

”Well, then.” Izuku shrugs.

”Well, then, what?” Katsuki frowns. “What’s the matter?”

”Is there a matter? I never said yes or no.”Izuku continues aloofly.

”Just answer my damn question, Idiot. I don’t like riddles.”

It’s now that Izuku notices one of Katsuki’s hands resting on his knee, and the other by his side, clutching a white bag. Izuku nods his head toward it. “What’s that?”

”I’m not telling you.” Katsuki says, rather childishly, as holds the handle tighter. “Unless you feel like explaining what the hell’s wrong with you?”

Izuku doesn’t waver at this, but his eyes tell a funny story. Katsuki always detested them for being big and buggish and freaky and green. But really, they’re beautiful. They’re the kind of green you only find in the heart of a rainforest, the leafs damp and healthy, seething with sunlight. They’re  stunning, as easy to get lost in as it would be in the rainforest. Katsuki sometimes can’t look away, as if they’re as binding as Medusas, turning him to stone. Only, he feels softer rather than stony. Like molasses, draining on the window ledge.

Izuku looks, now, sad. His eyes are as wide as ever, but glazed and overcast. The rainforest is experiencing a storm, as they often do. Katsuki wishes he could see right through them, past their emerald gates and into Izuku’s soul - but the phrase isn’t as literal as one would hope.

”What’s wrong?” Katsuki asks quietly, as he shocks himself at the sincerity. His voice not only feels like honey but sounds like it too. He sounds like he’s pleading, as Izuku isn’t quite sure if he’s ever heard it from Katsuki before.

It’s enough to let his guard down, anyway. But Izuku never much puts up a fight around Katsuki.

”I don’t think I could explain it to you. Not now, anyway.” Izuku mutters, much more honest than before. “But I’m not too bad, Kacchan. Nothing to worry about. Just some things on my mind.”

”That all?”

Izuku thinks, decides, and speaks. “Yeah.” He hums. “That’s all.”

Katsuki seems as though he’s satisfied, and hauls the small convenience store bag onto Izuku’s lap. “You’re present. The one I mentioned.”

Like magic, Izuku seems to flip. Smile shining and lost shadows leaving his eyes. “For real?” He sings. “Should I be excited, or is it not that much of a present?”

Katsuki thinks of his awful gag gifts throughout the years, the ones he got with the intention of making fun of Izuku rather than out of kindness. “Yeah. Be excited all you want, it was fuckin’ expensive.”

”Kacchan.” Izuku’s face falls. “Don’t spend lots of money on me.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Stop talking like you’re some babe and open it.”

Izuku complies. He takes the bubble wrapped item from the bag and discards the plastic on the floor. With painfully slow motions, he unwraps the present. When the bubble wrap is removed, and Katsuki’s gift is on full display, Izuku finds it hard to react at all.

A few too many seconds of waiting, and Katsuki gets impatient. “Well? Is it nice?”

Izuku purses his lips together as if they’re a dam holding back water. Only he’s holding back a string of far-too-eager reactions. “Is it the 1997 one? The one with the missing page in printing?”

Katsuki frowns. “Sure is. Can’t believe I would spend more money on something with a missing page, but collectibles are collectibles, I guess.”

The edition of the All Might comic is so rare because the printing company messed up manufacturing, and stopped making them after a few hundred and realised their mistake. It’s expensive because it’s rare. Despite how dumb the idea is.

Izuku still doesn’t say much, slowly turning the pages.

”Do you hate it? The fuck are you so quiet for?” Katsuki says a little too nervously.

Izuku smiles weakly. “I know you’re not fond of my rambling, so I’m trying to be calm for you. But I love it. It’s incredible. I couldn’t be happier.” Izuku’s straight face makes his point fall a little flat.

”The hell d’you mean I hate it?”

Izuku looks up. “You don’t?”

Katsuki knits his brow. “Well, call me crazy for wanting you to show a little emotion?” He says slowly.

Izuku’s smile breaks through as if the dam broke, his white teeth matching the shine in his eye. “In that case, this is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life. It’s super rare, Kacchan! How did you even find it? In Hosu? It’s incredible! I feel scared to touch it in case I mess up the quality!” Izuku says too quickly and too excitedly. “They’re so expensive though, I can’t believe you would even think of buying it! I love it! There’s only a few hundred in circulation you know? How much more value could I bring to this if I got All Might to sign it? Probably thousands. I can’t believe it.”

Katsuki tunes out his voice in favour of his face. Wide and bright smile stealing Katsuki's attention. The freckles on Izuku's cheeks move with his words, drawing a focus on their speckled selves. What Katsuki would give to touch Izuku's cheek in the way they did, so soft and intimately. Izuku's smile breaks into small dimples that hurt to look away from. They're small and sweet and Katsuki feels his stomach flip every time they crease.

It's only when Izuku stands that Katsuki draws himself back to the present. "Where are you going?" He asks, legs filling up the now empty space before him.

"Did you not listen to me?" Izuku says flatly. 

"Uh, I missed the last bit."

Izuku sighs. "I'm going to get something to eat. Do you want to come?"

Katsuki wants nothing more than to join him, but Kirishima and Denki sit squabbling over a Nintendo beside the kitchen, and he doesn't feel like speaking to them. Especially since they more than definitely saw him and Izuku's excursion, and will have questions. "No." Katsuki says, standing with Izuku. "But come back, after."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to go too far." Katsuki says. "I want you at arms length." He continues mindlessly, as if he'd ever say those words in full consciousness. 

Izuku is, by these words, bound to repetition. "Why?" He says, fainter.

"You'll get too sick."

For lack of better words, Izuku just nods. "Okay." He shrugs, holding his comic in it's old plastic bag firm at his side. There's a hesitance in him, and Katsuki can hear the cogs turning and clicking in his mind. Before he has the chance to question it, Katsuki is overwhelmed by warm arms around his shoulders, locking behind the back of his neck. He stills.

Izuku holds tightly onto Katsuki as if they were children again. He always, as a kid, liked to embrace Katsuki as a way of expressing how much he really loved him. Katsuki never got used to it, but he stopped reacting badly after a while. Even now, he doesn't stir, content in what he finds himself able to return. Which is nothing - but he doesn't move. He lets Izuku tighten his grip around his shoulders, let's him rest their heads together. Lets him whisper faintly, "Thank you, Kacchan." And let's himself wonder if he meant for the gift, or the concern for his health.

"No worries, nerd." Katsuki whispers back, unable to do more. When Izuku let's him go, he turns his head fast to ensure Izuku can't see his cheeks. He might, in this way, look more guilty, but things like that never occur to Katsuki.

"I'll be back after dinner!" Izuku sings, visibly lighter and happier. If Katsuki's vulnerability is a small price to pay for Izuku's joy, perhaps he'd give it up more easily.

Izuku shovels food and swallows as if it would catch his thoughts on the way down and burn them in his stomach acid with the rest of his dinner. Ridiculous. He felt ridiculous. If it weren't for Shoto sitting soundlessly before him, he'd have probably melted into the seat.

Izuku chokes on a particularly large mouthful of rice, and Shoto looks up with worry. "Are you okay, Midoriya?" He asks calmly, watching Izuku smack his own chest with a balled fist.

"Yeah," Izuku coughs, covering his mouth with a hand holding chopsticks, "I'm just eating too fast."

"Maybe slow down, then." Shoto offers with all the certainty in his tone of someone granting life-changing advice. 

It makes Izuku snort. "Good shout." He says to comply with Shoto's character.

Shoto takes a second longer to watch Izuku for signs of struggle, before speaking again. "Why are you eating so fast? Do you have somewhere to be?"

Izuku swallows another mouthful. "No, actually. In fact, I'm avoiding somewhere."

"If you wanted to avoid it, I would eat your dinner slower. You can prolong your time." Shoto says simply. "What are you avoiding?"

Izuku doesn't care much for secrets around Shoto - he's remarkably good at keeping them. "Kacchan."

"Ah," Shoto hums, as if he relates, "I see."

Izuku wasn't really avoiding Katsuki, but he definitely wanted more time before he had to face him again. What was he doing? Why did Katsuki make him feel so unsure of himself? The star and the gift and the sweet, damn look on Katsuki's face as Izuku explained his gratitude made him feel crazy. Why is his stomach flipping? Why is his face burning?

Unfortunately, Izuku knew why. But denial never hurt anybody - perhaps.

"Are you still experiencing that fever from the quirk?" Shoto asks idly, but he's looking at Izuku funny.

"Yeah, why?"

"I wondered why you looked so red. You're cheeks are hot - is it because of Bakugo?"

Yes, it's because of Kacchan. Izuku wants to shout. Yes, my cheeks are hot and burning because of him. Yes it's all his fault. But Shoto means the fever and Izuku means love. Or admiration. Heavy, intense admiration.

"I guess."

"Why isn't he here, then?" Shoto asks, then answers. "Oh, yes, you're avoiding him."

"You're real good at putting two and two together, huh?" Izuku says, a pinch too sarcastically. He softens his face when he notes his tone.

"Why, might I ask, are you avoiding him?" Shoto asks lightly. He had no real reason to sit with Izuku, but when he saw him in the kitchen, Shoto decided to help him make his dinner. Now he's around for company, his he is growing more tired by the minute.

Izuku finally snaps, bashing his head into his hands and groaning dramatically. Shoto watches it unfold with all the shock of a man sighting a tsunami. "Midoriya?"

"I'm screwed, Todoroki. I can't even deny it in my head." Izuku mumbles through his fingers, steam from his bowl just inches below him making his hands warm.

"What can't you deny?"

Izuku sits up, hair ruffled from his outburst. He bites his bottom lip with nervous anticipation. "If I tell you a secret, Todoroki, will you not tell anyone else?"

Shoto nods pointedly, a man of his word.

"Well, then..." Izuku gulps. "I think I might love Kacchan."

Shoto processes for a moment, his expression never faltering. "Didn't you always? I've heard you many times say you love him."

"But that was different! I loved Kacchan because he was cool and impressive - not because I wanted to kiss him." The open confession makes Izuku's skin crawl. He gulps down a wave of nervous heat in his cheeks.

"You do?" Shoto asks simply, his eyes so slightly wider. "Midoriya, that's quite a jump."

"Right? What am I going to do?" Izuku mumbles, now discarding the bowl of rice and meat Shoto had made him. His stomach turned too unkindly to consider eating.

Shoto truly thinks about it, but being utterly inexperienced, hasn't got much to think over. "Perhaps you should ask Denki, he always talks about romance."

"No, Kaminari pretends to know what he's talking about, but he's never been on a date."

Shoto nods slowly. "I see. Well, you've been on dates? Aren't you supposed to be the most experienced?"

"What!" Izuku flusters. "Definitely not! I'm hardly experienced at all!" He defends profusely, waving his hands around dramatically.

"But you're the only person I know that's been on at least one date. Everyone else doesn't get much attention."

"That's not true. Girls flirt with you all the time." Izuku says flatly, resting his hand on his hand.

"They do?"

"Obviously."

Shoto squints, but he doesn't seem much displeased. A silence falls over them as Shoto tries his hardest to think of advice for Izuku. It's sweet, really, but Izuku worries to much himself to pay much attention to it. "Why don't you just tell him? I'm sure he'd be accepting of your feelings."

"As if. Kacchan would probably blast me into the sky like a firework." Izuku drags, shuddering at the thought of it.

"Perhaps. Or maybe, he'd be pleased." Shoto offers. "I think anyone would be pleased to have you."

Izuku grins, ignoring his situation in favour of making a joke. "Tryna make a hit on me, Todoroki?" He winks childishly, knowing very well Shoto probably wouldn't understand his joke.

In fact, he jumps, which is rare to see out of him. "No, not at all. I only mean you're a wonderful person - a lot of people would be happy to date you."

Izuku sits back and giggles. His tension had worn off a bit in light of humor, and he sighs to let out the last of his frustrations. The jokes even eased the stir in his stomach, and he was beginning to feel less sick. "I get it, Todoroki. Thank you."

Shoto squints just above where Izuku is sitting. "Speaking of."

Izuku should have known his ease wasn't down to his stupid sarcasm, but this feverish quirk he was bound to. Feeling less sick can only mean Katsuki is near - it has nothing to do with laughter. Izuku feels his shirt tighten uncomfortably before he's hauled out of his chair by his collar. "What the-!" He grunts, pulling out of the grip.

Katsuki is standing with balled fists and a furious scowl not actually aimed at Izuku - rather Shoto, who sports an unimpressed frown. "Kacchan, what's the matter?" Izuku tries.

Katsuki leans over the table, Izuku's chair digging into his chest. He looks, for a moment, like he's going to swallow Shoto whole. Izuku can't see his expression any longer, but he can see Shoto's - who recoils and pulls a sour face. Katsuki grunts something too low for Izuku to hear, and Shoto frowns at it.

Izuku feels lost. Out of the loop. But most of all, he feels embarrassed - just how long was Katsuki there? Izuku reaches out a hand and grabs Katsuki's bicep to pull him back, struggling to ignore the feeling of his toned skin. "Kacchan! Quit being weird!" He says through his teeth, words almost darkened by the pink of his cheeks.

Katsuki pulls back from his menacing chiding of Shoto and turns to look at Izuku. Despite only being an inch or two taller than Izuku, he towered over him like a reaper. His hair overcast his eyes and his lips were pulled into a distasteful scowl. Izuku could feel his breath on his face, hot and irritable.

”…Kacchan?” He squeaks.

Katsuki has no patience for it, and grabs Izuku’s wrist before dashing from the common room. Izuku scrambles behind like a desperate kite, wailing and yelling. Katsuki had a firmer-than-normal grip on his wrist, and the way the clutches the side of his bone ached.

Izuku was dragged out the room like a man to be tortured.

The destination on the angry-Katsuki-train was none other than his bedroom. He brushes into room without much hesitance and crouches over the cupboard he keeps for his clothes.

Izuku loiters by the door, smoothing his wrist and barring his teeth at the sore, sour pain of it. He held his comic and bag in the other hand, listening to it rustle as he rubbed his wrist.

Katsuki stands, holding an old grey shirt. Was he getting ready for bed?

”What are you doing there?” He says, not looking at Izuku.

”What am I—!?” Izuku starts too quickly and too angrily, pausing to take a breath. “I don’t know, Kacchan.” He says sourly, settling for sarcasm over anger.

“Get over here, then.” Katsuki says absentmindedly. “You can’t sleep in the door frame.”

”S— Sleep? Kacchan, I’m not sleeping here.” Izuku frowns, clutching his white bag tighter. Maybe as a comfort.

”You’re sick.” Katsuki says sternly, as if it’s an answer to all his problems. “So, you’ll sleep here.”

”Well.” Izuku gulps.

”Well what? Are you stupid?”

Izuku doesn’t say anything. Maybe because he’s speechless or maybe becuase he agrees. It is stupid - everything. He feels stupid. Stupid for being dragged like an idiot, stupid for standing in Katsuki’s door, and stupid for considering feelings for him.

Feelings for him.

Hm.

”Well? You slept here last night.” Katsuki says, standing and walking to the door Izuku guards.

”I was unconscious… sorta.”

”You need to be knocked out to share a room with me? And people call me the asshole.” Katsuki sounds, astonished. His brow knits unnaturally. He shows his fearful teeth.

”Not— No. No, Kacchan.” Izuku stumbles. “There’s no use in sharing a room, I sleep only down the hall. And I’m okay with a little fever, don’t worry about catering for me.”

Katsuki wants to shout and loose his state of mind, but he doesn’t, letting out a frustrated sigh and looking to the ceiling. Maybe for answers. “We have a quiz tomorrow.” He says as sternly as a teacher. “You’ll wake up with a headache, off balance like an idiot, and flunk the whole thing. If you want, I can knock you out, and make this process easier for you - but you’re not sleeping away from me.”

Izuku rolls his eyes. “Kacchan, you’re too stubborn.”

”What’s wrong with your wrist?” Katsuki says idly, unrelated to any prior conversation.

”What?”

”You're touching it.” He frowns.

”Well— You…?” Izuku sputters. “You dragged me like a psychopath. What did you think was gonna happen?”

Katsuki, weirdly, jumps at this. Eyes widening in a way they don’t usually. He looks, one might note, bothered by this. “I didn’t pull you that hard, you baby.”

”Sure.” Izuku mutters, unwilling to argue.

”Did I?” Katsuki says lightly. He takes Izuku’s wrist in his own hands, noting its scared and course skin. Izuku’s arms, body even, looked like the underside of an exotic ocean. All seaweed and coral and silky sand. His skin was dusted with memories of battle, the effect of a body holding too much power than it can contain. Despite Izuku’s dismissive feelings toward his scars, Katsuki thought they were beautiful. Any sign of a struggle Katsuki found attractive. It was a sign of strength and determination - signs of a hero.

”Kacchan?” Izuku whispers. He didn’t mean to whisper, but the moment felt too tender to break with his voice.

”Sorry,” Katsuki whispers back, “for pulling you too hard. I was annoyed.”

”At?”

Katsuki cracks a small smile. “Icyhot.” He mutters. “And you.”

”Me?” Izuku questions, pushed to one-word sentences.

”You winked at him.”

Izuku took a while to take the words in. Katsuki hadn’t looked up from his wrist, his thumb slowly brushing the tender skin. Katsuki looked simple in this moment. Reachable. Beautiful.

”You were kidding, huh?”

Izuku nods weakly. “Yeah. I don’t even remember that.”

Katsuki hums, looking up. “Good.” He says softly. Too softly. Soft enough to make Izuku’s heart burn. “Sleep here.” He says lower, quieter.

Izuku feels as cautious as a gazelle at the riverbank. Sipping simply at the water, legs ready to pounce at the sight of movement. He freezes, locked in place with the sight of Katsuki’s burning red eyes. This moment was too soft. It felt like swallowing honey - something sweet and uncomfortable. Indulging and fearful.

”Why?” Izuku mumbles, voice betraying his heart, plating his feelings before him.

”Arms length, Deku. You’ll get sick.” Katsuki hums back, fingers slightly holding tighter on Izuku’s wrist, as if he can sense his apprehension. Like he knows Izuku wants to run.

”You’re worried about me getting sick?”

”Mostly.”

”But?”

Katsuki doesn’t respond, opting to swallow the words on his tongue. The sound of them sliding down his throat occupies too much of Izuku’s mind, and he worries his face betray’s him. Can Katsuki tell he’s falling as fast as a derailed train?

Can Izuku tell Katsuki can fall no more?

“Maybe I want you around.” Katsuki shrugs, dropping Izuku’s wrist finally. In his new freedom, Izuku realises how hot the contact made him.

”Yeah?”

”We’re friends now, right?”

”Mm.”

Suddenly, Katsuki steps back, and he walks back to his dresser. “Want something to wear?”

Izuku stands at the door like an abandoned bride, and he hates the way he does feel abandoned. Katsuki tinkers away with something, and Izuku has to force himself into normality. He can stay here, he can be normal. He doesn’t have to focus on Katsuki’s arms or flushed, tired cheeks.

He puts the bag onto Katsuki’s desk and closes the door softly. “Yes, please. If I’m even able to put something on. Kacchan, it’s too hot in here.”

Katsuki groans. “Don’t be dramatic.”

”It’s like, tropical in here.” Izuku sighs, walking further into the room and standing by Katsuki’s side. His dresser is remarkably neat, but incredibly lacking in colour. “Why do you have so many heaters?”

”I need to sweat for my quirk to always be at its optimum ability.”

”So you admit it’s sweat-able in here.”

Katsuki clicks his tongue. “Maybe.”

Izuku sighs, and plops himself onto Katsuki’s bed. Admittedly, he was out of it the night prior, and didn’t have the energy to look around in the morning - but the room was strangely laid out. There wasn’t much in it, and yet it seemed terribly full. Maybe it was the black walls and bedding. Dark floors and furniture. It’s not bright at all, and maybe that’s what fills it up, but Katsuki doesn’t own much.

His desk houses a laptop and pen box.

His walls have no posters.

His dresser is plain.

He has one rug.

”This room is a little… boring.” Izuku comments, looking around desperately for some colour.

”What am I supposed to add?”

”Some life.”

”Fuck off.”

Izuku laughs quietly, and he’s surprised at his ability to act like he feels nothing. Katsuki stands with his back turned, and Izuku can spot each and every smooth on his back. His arms are nothing short of jaw-dropping, insanely defined and carved. And his back is much the same. His black tank folds over his shoulders and back like honey over yoghurt.

His half-ability to feel nothing, perhaps.

”Kacchan?”

“What?”

”Do you want me to set up the futon?”

Katsuki turns, holding a darker grey shirt. “For me?”

”For me.”

He frowns. “Shut up.”

“What?”

”You’re not sleeping on the floor.” Katsuki sounds, and it fills the room with an unmatched certainty. Izuku wonders why Katsuki has decided to be so kind.

”No? You want me in the bed?”

Katsuki tries to ignore Izuku’s phrasing, but it makes his cheeks pink. He gulps before speaking, swallowing any internal words. “I don’t want you on the floor.” He decides, probably the safest choice of words.

”Well, I can’t come in here and kick you from your own bed. Are you against sharing?”

”Not— No.”

Izuku hums. Innocently. Idly. It drives Katsuki crazy. “Okay, then. Let’s share!”

Katsuki turns again and walks over to Izuku’s place on the bed. He puts a shirt in Izuku’s lap.

Izuku finds it as heavy as a bomb. As dangerous as one, too. Katsuki’s shirt. His clothes. His scent. His warmth and DNA.

In his bed.

With him.

Izuku jumps up. “Damn! I totally forgot something that I left with Todoroki!” He says desperately. “I know it’s late and you want to sleep, but I’ll be back in less than a second!”

“Huh?”

Izuku begins out the door, hiding his darkening face. “Don’t wait up for me!”

Katsuki is left - now the abandoned bride.

Chapter Text

Izuku only bites the rims of his fingers when he’s overwhelmingly nervous. He is, of course, a little nervous always. Nervous about exams, nervous about training, nervous about his relations with other people.

It’s not… entirely irrational.

But sometimes when it gets too much, he puts his fingers to his lips and paces, completely subconsciously. Now, Izuku drew circles with his shoes outside Shoto’s door. Shoto was probably the last person, other than Katsuki, who would be pleased to see him at 11pm, but he needs consolidation.

He knocks.

It’s a surprise to see Sero open the door, hair a little ruffled and eyes full of sleep. “Hey, Midoriya! Sorry, you’re wanting to see Shoto, right?”

”Uh, yeah.” Izuku says a little too breathlessly. Then, he raises an eyebrow. “Should— Should I go?”

Sero frowns at Izuku’s unease, before realisation dawns over his features. “Oh! No, no man. We’re playing cards! Cards— Just cards. I promise.” Sero rambles out awkwardly. “Come in.”

Izuku feels relieved, but not pleased. Sero wasn’t the person he wanted to see. “Actually— you know don’t worry.” Izuku says softly.

”We’re really not having sex.”

”Oh! I know!” Izuku chuckles uneasily. “It’s just, I needed to speak to him but if you’re busy…”

”Is that Deku?” A feminine voice sounds. Ochako pops her head over Sero’s shoulder, and he opens the door a little wider. There’s actually quite a few people in the room, crowded around Shoto’s centre table. “Come play!”

”Uraraka!” Izuku practically beams. He grabs her sleeve desperately, pulling her from the room. “One moment! Please!” He asks her.

”Uh, sure? Are you okay?” Ochako shrugs, pulling an arm away from Izuku’s reach. “Keep playing! I’ll join the next round.” Ochako tells Sero, and that satisfies him enough.

Walking down the hall, Ochako has to begin and comfort a nervous, anxious Izuku. “Seriously, Deku. What’s up with you?”

”It’s Kacchan. Ugh, it’s always Kacchan!” Izuku groans, making sure to skip the floor Katsuki’s room was on, and walking into the common room.

”What did he do?” Ochako says, leaning against a table. Tokoyami is some distance away, writing something in a little black book.

”He— I don’t know. He’s too… nice.”

Theres a tense moment of silence before Ochako bursts into laughter, throwing the course of the mood. “Are you kidding? Too nice?”

”He’s letting me sleep in his room. Wanting me to take his bed. Offering me clothes and whatever. I’m crazy. I’m dreaming.”

Ochako stifles her giggles. “You’re funny, that’s what.”

”It’s not funny. It’s horrifying.”

Izuku sighs shakily, and Ochako comes to the conclusion he really has to be worried about Katsuki’s kindness - which, isn’t exactly right.

”Why’s this bother you so much? Shouldn’t it be a good thing?”

Izuku bites his bottom lip, maybe a little too hard, and squints. “Well, there’s a problem.”

”Yuh-huh?”

”He’s… well, I— uh.” Izuku gulps. “I think I’m totally in love with him.” He lets out thick.

This time, Ochako’s hesitation is longer. And then, she doesn’t laugh. She gapes open her mouth like a dune. “Are… Are you serious?”

”I think.”

She gawks. “Deku, oh my goodness. Seriously? This— This is amazing!”

”Amazing?”

”Adorable!”

”Uraraka—“

”Fantastic! Deku!” She giggles. “You’re going to get married!” 

Izuku rolls his tired, green eyes. “No, I don’t know—“

”What are you even doing here? Run back to your man!”

”I don’t—“

”Deku! Toughen up and sleep in his room! Agh! Take your phone and update me a million times!” She squeaks, grabbing both of Izuku’s hands and squeezing much too tight.

”I’m actually worried, you know.” Izuku reminds, pouting a little.

”Oh, yes.” Ochako remembers, letting go of his hands and putting one to her chin. “I’ll tell you what, here’s my master casual method.” She smirks. “First, look in the mirror - remind yourself that you’re a catch, and he’d be fortune’s favourite to have you.”

”Right,” Izuku says flatly, not exactly taking notes.

”Two, deep breath. No one likes a nervous wreck when they’re trying to get a piece, y’know?”

“Wh— What?”

“Three, compliment! Something crazy to throw ‘em crazy off guard - then the ball’s in your court.” Ochako smirks, firm and finally. “And finally, text your best friend and tell them exactly how it went!”

Izuku takes a long moment to process, before sighing strenuously. “What— What the hell does that even mean?”

“Remeber the steps!” She says encouraging, slapping Izuku on the arm. “You’ll do great. And I know Bakugo is a little edgy when he doesn’t sleep, so maybe head off soon.”

”Ah, yeah.” Izuku gulps.

”You’ve got this.”

”Yeah?”

”Yeah!”

Izuku takes one deep breath, skipping to step two, and finally feels relaxed. Perhaps it wasn’t Ochako’s strange advice, rather talking to a familiar face, but still. He stops biting his nails.

“Okay. A huge compliment?” Izuku asks finally, feeling the pressure part from him.

“As big as you can make it.”

Izuku doesn’t knock. He figures he’d work himself up too much with a hand hovering over the wood. He opens the door the moment he sees it, understanding that his anxiousness would stop him from doing so.

Katsuki isn’t in bed. He’s standing, actually.

”The fuck was so important, then?” Katsuki asks impatiently. Izuku notes his change of clothing. Once dressed in a mess of baggy clothes, now dressed in a tank top. One that displayed his arms much more than needed. Much more than Izuku needed - or could handle.

”Uh—“ He swallows. “I don’t.. He left his phone, uh, with me? So I gave it back.”

”Yeah? Took you long enough.”

Izuku walks into the room finally, softly closing the door behind him. The room is still hot. “Sorry, did I keep you up?”

”Yeah.”

”You should have gone to bed.”

Katsuki clicks his tongue, turning to dim the lights. “What, and get woken up again by you barging in? You didn’t even knock, asshole.”

Izuku frowns. “Sorry.”

In the darker lighting, Katsuki only looks more angry. Like a ghost emulsified by the darkness. “That Icyhot bastard can’t keep his phone to himself, then?”

Izuku sits on the edge of the bed softly,  close enough to the edge that he’d slip off if his legs weren’t supporting him. ”How do you mean?” He asks quietly. Katsuki later joins him, perching more confidently on the bed. Partly because it’s his own, but mostly because he always intended to do this better than Izuku.

”I mean can that idiot not keep to himself?”

”He can.”

Katsuki is looking at the floor, brows knit in a vehement scowl. He’s hard to see in the dim lighting. “Then what’s he doing hanging around you like that?”

Izuku frowns, now completely unsure on what Katsuki could be talking about. The nerves he splurged to Ochako slowly dissipated, leaving behind whims of confusion. “Kacchan, what are you trying to say? He left his phone with me, is all. I’m here now.”

”Don’t you know anything? Assholes like him do weird shit like that to keep you in their sphere-of-influence, or whatever. He gave you the phone so you’d go back - idiots are weird like that.” Katsuki says a little too passionately, turning to look at Izuku more clearly. Noticing Izuku’s confusion, he elaborates. “I just mean he’s doing shit on purpose to keep you around.”

”I don’t know…” Izuku says softly, understanding very well that the idea of the phone never actually happened.

”That’s ‘cause you’re dumb.” Katsuki says with finality. Then, without. “In this field, I mean.”

”In what field?”

Katsuki sighs. “Like, love stuff.”

”Like love stuff?” Izuku chokes out a teasing laugh. “Love stuff.” He says again.

“Shut up! You know what I mean.” Katsuki says, pushing his head out of Izuku’s line of sight.

”What’s love got to do with anything?” Izuku asks innocently, ignoring the blush creeping up his neck. Love is to do with everything, he thinks poetically, and scolds himself for looking at Katsuki a little too long as he does.

”You’re oblivious, is all. To peoples feelings for you.”

”Really?”

”I can’t even count on my fingers how many times you’ve accidentally blown off people who were definitely into you.” Katsuki scoffs. “Like Icyhot, for one.”

”Todoroki?!” Izuku jumps. “No, no! That’s not true at all. I was really only giving him my phone.”

”Idiot.”

Izuku blushes deeply, and can’t bring himself to admit he was lying about the phone. Can’t admit to himself why he’d lie at all - because I was too scared to be alone in a room with you. 

Izuku shuffles up on the bed so he is sitting more comfortably, unlikely to fall down. He matches Katsuki’s posture and can’t stop himself from taking a glance. Katsuki, with his straight back and stern face looks unbelievably beautiful in the dull lighting.

Izuku feels a strange sensation bubbling in the bottom of his stomach. He had always found Katsuki attractive - it’d be foolish to deny it. From his stark blonde hair, sharp and strong jaw, to his soft skin, and burning red eyes. Everything about him was perfect and Izuku wasn’t the only one to feel such a way.

But tonight? He looks impossibly better. And softer, too. As if there’s some fuzzy light around his body, enhancing anything beautiful about him. Izuku thinks, idly and irresponsibly, that love had perked his looks. Love is to do with everything.

Katsuki frowns, and Izuku is pulled out of his gaze. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks sourly.

”Oh, uh.. You…”

Compliment! Something crazy to throw ‘em crazy off guard - then the ball’s in your court.

”…Have you been working out more? Your arms are super defined!” Izuku smiles innocently, praying to whatever God that follows Ochako around that she’s right.

”Hah?” Katsuki flusters. He never could take compliments well. The sight of his nervous gait does make Izuku feel a little more in control.

“I don’t know, they’re just—“ Izuku steals a look at Katsuki’s biceps. The strong and soft shape of them. Despite his ulterior motives, what he had said was true - Katsuki looked more toned by the day. His skin looked like porcelain and his arms were defined in the image of roman statues. It took a lot to keep talking. "You look good, is all."

"Fuck you mean I look good? I always do! And- and you can't just tell me things like that." Katsuki huffs, folding his arms defensively and indirectly showing them off more. He really did look good.

"No? Why not?"

"It's... gay." Katsuki says childishly, eliciting a small laugh from Izuku.

"Well, I am-"

"I don't care. Just don't compliment people so freely." Katsuki, even in the dim lighting, sports dusty pink cheeks and a stupid, protesting pout. He, noticing himself much too obnoxiously, lowers his arms to try and draw the attention away from them. Izuku watches his muscles tense and untense, shape and shift, resting in two sultry lines beside Katsuki's torso. "Stop looking!"

"What! You're really lucky!" Izuku giggles, playing with Katsuki a little more freely as he watches the boy squirm. "When you become a pro-hero, everyone will want to put you in those sexy magazines. You've got the figure for it."

Katsuki decides to focus on a very small section of what Izuku was saying to him. "Sexy magazines? You read that shit?"

Now it was Izuku's turn to flush. "W-Well no! Midnight reads them in class sometimes, and well... I speak to All Might every now and again in the teacher's lounge, and her and Mic are always fussing over the latest copies. So, uh, I don't read them, but I've seen a lot of them- Oh! Well, actually, a copy about Kamui Woods came out not too long ago, and Kaminari gave it too me. Something about there not being enough girls in it, or something. But I do still have that in my room-"

"Enough, freak, you're incriminating yourself." Katsuki scoffs, but his soft smile is almost unmissable. Did he like listening to Izuku ramble? No, never.

"I don't read them. All I'm saying is you're a good candidate." Izuku shrugs idly. As if the words so simply escaping his mouth weren't sending Katsuki reeling. He gulps thickly, like he's swallowing honey. The words are just as sweet, anyway.

"I don't- that's stupid." Katsuki hesitates. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Complimenting me, and shit."

Izuku smiles widely, the puppet strings he's placing on Katsuki's shoulders woven around his fingers. "Yeah? But I always compliment you, Kacchan." He grins, looking away from Katsuki and out his bedroom window. "Is it that we're alone in a dark room?" Izuku snorts. "Does that make you nervous?"

Katsuki shudders and stands, much too quickly. "I'm never nervous. Just shut up and go to bed, it's late." He walks the distance of the bed, sitting more appropriately on the side he intended to sleep on. He's hot, his cheeks and neck and chest burn. It's unclear whether the cause is Izuku or his ever-boiling room, but it doesn't matter too much. He swallows, thick and slow, and buries himself in his own sheets.

Izuku stands belatedly and wanders, unwarrantedly, to Katsuki's wardrobe. "Can I borrow something?" Izuku asks idly.

"Whatever."

The wardrobe is an ocean of shadows. The brightest clothing Katsuki owns is a very white shirt. Izuku can tell by the cleanliness of it, and it's neatly folded status, that it's seldom worn. He takes the shirt from it's place and unravels it. With a lack of more appropriate means, Izuku pulls his shirt off without bothering to check if Katsuki could see him.

But maybe he should have.

His back, from the strange position Katsuki lay in, was beautiful. His pale muscles move with his arms, as soft and smooth as the surface of unbroken water. Only, his body was tainted with scars. Long and reeling, wrapping around his arms and over his waist. They were scary, but they were stunning. And though Katsuki found it hard to see, the light dusting of freckles over his body made his cheeks burn brighter.

Izuku joins him a moment later, smiling like nothing had happened. He sinks in Katsuki's bed, ignorant to the way Katsuki gulps and shifts and squirms. "You have a nice bed, Kacchan. It's nicer than mine."

"Don't get used to it." Is all Katsuki can say, because he finds it harder to be nice. Harder to say something sweet.

"No? Well, I'm glad you'd have me tonight. I can't sleep very well with this quirk." Izuku sighs.

Katsuki feels a little too affected by the fact, and turns for the first time to look at Izuku. Changing ruffled his hair, and he begins to yawn like a baby. "You... can't?"

"Not really. I feel too nauseous to sleep." Izuku chuckles lightly, innocently. "But it's not too much of a problem. I caught up on most of my sleep while I was passed out in medical." Now, he laughs louder. Maybe to take the edge off.

Katsuki can't seem to bring words to his mouth, sourly swallowing anything he wanted to say. All that's left is a strange sense of guilt. "I'm sorry." He whispers so softly that Izuku wonders if he even heard right.

"Really?"

"Mmh."

"Don't be." Izuku smiles. "It's not your fault at all."

"But I'm an asshole. I even beat you to shit." Katsuki mutters, reminiscing over their heated battle in the training facility. The one Aizawa dragged them out of by the hair.

Izuku giggles. "Well, I think I won that fight."

"Maybe."

Izuku feels almost frozen at the sound of Katsuki's soft and tender tone. His honesty. His vulnerability. It's a sound rarer than diamond. "But don't worry, Kacchan. It's all in the past, anyway."

"It shouldn't be. You forgive too quickly." Katsuki mutters.

”Yeah?” Izuku hums in response. “Maybe I just forgive you too quickly.”

Katsuki shuffles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

”I could never stay mad at you, unfortunately.” Izuku sings, slipping down in the bed until he lay on his back. “Turn of the heater, please, it’s too hot.” He mumbles at he turns to his side, away from Katsuki.

Katsuki gulps and squints and sighs. “Whatever, guess I’m a slave.”

”Thank you!”

And as Izuku begins his descent into sleep Katsuki can only think one thing. I could never stay mad at you, either, Izuku.

Chapter Text

Izuku never slept well. Not since he was a baby. Up until he was 1, his mother had to follow a pedantic sleep procedure in order to get Izuku to go to bed. First, she'd load him up on hot and frothy milk. She always wondered if the temperature of the milk was too hot for Izuku, but he never drank it any other way. Then, she'd bathe him. Typically, babies aren't washed every night, but Izuku liked playing in the water a lot. Finally, she'd dress him, and read him a long and complicated story until he fell asleep. And though occasionally he'd wake again, he slept enough for a child.

Sometimes, Inko blamed herself for the way he behaved. He was always much too active, and though she'd come to accept that as a positive trait of Izuku's, she worried too much when he was little. Worried she'd messed up the course of his life by marrying a man who didn't favour sticking around. When Izuku would shift and shuffle, cry and wail, all instead of sleeping, she worried if he missed his father. Maybe a man could put him to sleep. Maybe Izuku needed a father. 

When Izuku learned to talk, she had her mind put to rest. Izuku spoke, in his simple yet age-ahead Japanese, about how he loved his mother more than anything. About how he'd live with her forever, and how she was his best friend. She learned to accept that Izuku couldn't miss a man he didn't know - and she was parenting just fine without him.

Izuku never learnt to sleep well, though. In middle school, he'd lay awake for days until eventually he'd pass out sleeping in a lesson, and wake with permeant marker scribbled over his forehead. Or he'd sleep during lunch and miss his next lesson, only to receive a scold and further teasing. He didn't know why he couldn't sleep, only that he couldn't. It didn't bother him much. You can't miss something you'd never experienced, and Izuku couldn't miss sleeping. Nor could he miss his father.

Yet, he does. Talking to All Might makes him miss his father. Maybe because All Might is a window into what-if. All Might had always been Izuku's symbol of peace, but without a man to direct the course of his life, he'd grown to be young Izuku's symbol of what it was to be a man, too. And All Might never cried, never complained, never found himself sour. And therefore, Izuku learnt to be just the same way. He handled problems like All Might, like a man who never worried, and he got by just fine pretending to be strong.

But he didn't know All Might personally when he was growing up, and sometimes when he was all alone, he felt a little lost. Inko could only teach Izuku so much, but Inko didn't know what a boy needed. Not like a father would. Izuku found himself confused - but one person seemed to have it all figured out. Katsuki.

Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki.

He was Izuku's pillar of success. He was what Izuku morphed himself into. When Izuku didn't know what to do, he'd behave like Katsuki, in a simple what would Kacchan do. It worked, really. Being like Katsuki made Izuku feel whole again. Or maybe Katsuki made him feel whole.

Maybe he'd really always loved him. Maybe All Might was right. Maybe Katsuki had a stronger hold on his heart than he'd thought. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Katsuki breathes deeply when he sleeps. Izuku rolls lightly onto his side to face him. His obnoxiously bright digital alarm clock reads 02:05AM, and Izuku feels his eyes drop slightly. He's tired - so why can't he sleep? Katsuki sleeps just fine - well, even, if his breathing is any indicator. He looks just as beautiful unconscious as he does awake. Maybe even better, without his somehow permanent scowl and knit brow. He looks peaceful. More soft and tender. Izuku can't seem to pull his eyes away.

Maybe he always loved Katsuki. It wouldn't be impossible.

"Kacchan?" He whispers, so quietly he doubts if he even spoke.

Izuku wasn't expecting a response. He wasn't shocked when Katsuki didn't speak back. Perhaps he was even glad. Izuku couldn't deal with forming a response for Katsuki. Maybe if he opened his mouth, all of his worries would come bursting out and Katsuki would discover just how deeply and tenderly he felt for him. Izuku swallowed any other comments.

He moves slowly, quietly, hesitantly. When his arm is softly pressed over Katsuki's chest he lets out his bated breath. This is dangerous. This is all he's ever wanted. Katsuki doesn't move, not for a while anyway, and Izuku relaxes into the familiarity that is Katsuki's being. His faint sweet and caramel scent, the smooth and silky skin. His long, drawn out breaths. The sound of his voice.

The sound of his voice?

Izuku doesn't quite believe how fast his stomach drop when Katsuki beings to whisper. He hates how deeply he years for the noise. "Deku?" Katsuki slurs, drunk on the side affects of sleep. His voice is so faint and Izuku can't process it properly. "Move up. You're annoyin' me." Katsuki continues to mumble.

Izuku doesn't understand the request, until Katsuki pulls him up slightly, resting Izuku's head in the nape of his neck. "Sleep." He half-heartedly demands.

"Okay." Izuku breathes, swallowing all the other words he was desperate to say. I love you, maybe. Or, please never let go.

Katsuki hoists an arm over Izuku's body, and Izuku has never felt more secure. More willing to sleep. If resting could always be so blissful, he'd never leave his bed. Trick is, sleep usually is blissful, but insomnia-tic Izuku never got such a privilege.

And thus, in the warmth of Katsuki's being, Izuku closes his eyes. He dreams of a forest and the sun - and Katsuki. He dreams of their friendship, and belonging. He falls asleep to the smell of caramel and the sound of a heart beating. Low, rhythmic sounds. He dreams with love in his chest.

Ochako doesn't spare Izuku time to talk, despite her insistence that he does. She balls her fists and cheers, pink cheeks blossoming with the giddy excitement only sought by love. "What did he say!? Come on, Deku, spill! You can't keep this all to yourself, I need to know!" She squeals, making far too much noise for the busy lunch hall that they were in. Too many ears to listen. "Tell me, tell me!"

"Well-"

"Oh I bet it was great! If I could share a bed with someone I loved I'd be totally gushing! You're so lucky!"

Izuku sighs and sinks in his chair. He'd be glad to tell Ochako, if she wasn't so excited. He couldn't possibly get a word in, and that's a situation Izuku had never been in. Usually, he spoke too much for everyone else. Maybe this was karma - or some twisted version of it.

The cafeteria was as busy as it usually is, and it smells just as sweet. There was a constant aroma of freshly cooked food that was detectable from miles down the hall. UA was truly lucky to have such great food. Izuku would have some if he didn't feel so sick.

Many things were making him feel sick.

Firstly, there was a growing distance between him and his life-support, Katsuki. Considering the idea that Izuku knows where Katsuki is, just how to get to him, and just how down he’s feeling without him, suggests that Izuku knows what he’s doing.

And yet he doesn’t.

There’s an internal conflict smashing around the sides of his conscience, begging him not to see Katsuki. And why? Embarrassment. Plain and simple fear.

Secondly, the look on Katsuki’s face when he woke. The image, almost printed onto the back of Izuku’s brain, haunts him in a way no ghost ever could. He looked pleased. He looked happy. He looked far too content. His arms, that had snaked their way around Izuku’s body, didn’t move when his eyes fluttered. Katsuki tightened his grip, sighed and yawned and shifted. He got out of bed wordlessly, urging Izuku to “shower after him” with no further explanation. No acknowledgement of their predicament.

No rage.

Katsuki without rage was a bird without wings. How could something to rage-inducing produce such a relaxed expression? The idea made him sick.

And therefore, the two reasons Izuku felt ill were Katsuki. Everything was always Katsuki. All things lead to Katsuki as all roads lead to Rome.

Sickening.

Exciting?

Izuku couldn’t deny the thought of seeing Katsuki made him nervously joyful. Like a kid stealing candy. Something so dangerous and yet to thrilling. Perhaps the locks of blonde hair and burning red eyes would make him happy.

Probably.

Maybe.

Izuku sniffles once more, something he’d now grown to do every few moments, and Ochako finally speaks up. “If you’re sick why don’t you go and sit with Bakugo? I mean, it’s the perfect excuse.”

”Excuse for what?”

”To see him, silly!” Ochako grins. “And anyway, it’s not really an excuse. You do need to see him, like, at all points of everyday. What a reason!”

Izuku sinks in his chair, unable to deny the twist in his stomach. He puts a hand to his cheeks and is unpleasantly met with a flushed face. His head throbs, his eyes burn. He is undoubtedly battling with a fever.

”Yeah? I don’t know. I don’t think I can face him.” He mutters idly, staring off at some table of people he doesn’t know.

”Why? ‘Cause of last night?”

”Yes.” Izuku flinches. “I mean, he wasn’t even bothered? He wasn’t even bothered.”

Ochako rolls her eyes. “So? That’s a good thing, he likes you. Probably.”

”Probably.” Izuku says drearily.

Ochako suddenly pulls a far-too-excited expression, eyes lighting like a firework. She grins, white teeth almost blinding Izuku. “Prince Charming is on the way!” She mumbled, singing the last part of the word like a princess. As if the Prince was for her.

”Wh— What?”

”Oi, you damn nerd! What the hell’re you hidin’ for?” Katsuki calls, grabbing the back of Izuku’s blazer and hosting him up slightly.

”Hiding?” Izuku squeaks, like a mouse in the cat’s trap.

Katsuki lets him go. “Yes, hiding. What are you doing here? Are you stupid?”

”Stupid?”

”Stop repeating me!” Katsuki groans. He focuses his gaze on Ochako, who watches like she’s in the theatre. “Move it, pink-cheeks. That’s my seat now.”

”No problem! I need to go, anyway!” She giggles, much too glad to be up and out. Izuku knows, looking into her dazzled eyes, that she’s considering what colours would look best for their wedding.

Katsuki sits with some vehemence, and rests his arms over the table. There’s a beat of silence, before Katsuki pulls a sour face. “Where is your food? Again?”

Izuku, unable to think of anything else but the soft and tender feeling of Katsuki’s arms around him, gulps with widened eyes. “What?”

”I’ll go and get you something.” Katsuki murmurs, and Izuku suddenly panics.

”No! No, don’t, it’s okay.” He tries to smile.

Katsuki relaxes after a moment, and frowns. “Am I supposed to be worried about you?”

”No! No, no, no.” Izuku waves his hands around defensively. “I really do love eating. I just haven’t been feeling well - you know that.”

Katsuki frowns. “Then why are you running away?”

”From what?”

”You tell me, Deku.” Katsuki says lowly. “Are you scared of me?”

”You?” Izuku can’t seem to act nervous. Can’t seem to feel it.

”Well, you’re runnin’.”

”No.”

”Yeah.”

Izuku shrugs, complacently. He fiddles with the edge of his blazer, the cool grey of it. “Just didn’t want to pester you, is all.” He smiles, a tight and unsure smile, but one nonetheless.

”Pester me?” Katsuki frowns, almost offended. “If I thought you were pestering me, I wouldn’t have you around.”

Izuku, suddenly, thinks of their childhood days. If I thought you were pestering me, I wouldn’t have you around. That, unfortunately, is true. Izuku thinks of the countless times Katsuki forcefully got Izuku to leave him alone. Pestering. Like an insect.

”Don’t get sentimental.” Katsuki says, as if he can read Izuku’s mind. He probably can. “I want you around now. Isn’t that enough?”

Izuku can’t help but smile. “Yes. That’s enough.”

Katsuki pulls a bar of something out of his blazer pocket and slowly unwraps it. There’s a silence. There’s a tension. There’s the quiet of two people unknowingly in love. One more willing to admit it than the other. Katsuki breaks the bar. Breaking the silence, too.

”Want half?”

”Yes, please!” Izuku smiles, because Katsuki was right. He was hungry.

They slip into quiet again, only know they chew. Izuku’s mind rattles, so loud and eerie that he wonders if Katsuki can hear his thoughts - like cheap headphones that emit the music to all wandering ears.

There’s a drop in his stomach every time he thinks about love. Like it’s being yanked and dragged into the pit of his being. Izuku can’t handle it. Can’t handle the idea that what he feels for Katsuki is more than what’s normal. How on earth would Katsuki react to something like that? How angry would he be?

Katsuki, however, has begun to accept this feeling as he would any other. Originally, he planned to wait it out. See how long a dumb crush could last before it fizzled. But it wasn’t working out - partly because it doesn’t work like that, but mostly because Katsuki learnt being in love with Izuku was more fun than not. Better for him, really.

He's kinder. He’s softer. And though it’s a hard pill to swallow, it makes him a better person.

”Deku?” He prompts suddenly, intentionally breaking the creepy quiet. Izuku looks up. “What are you thinking about?”

”Nothing.”

Katsuki pauses, then rolls his eyes. It wasn’t like Izuku to go down without a fight, and admitting his own feelings was just as strenuous. "Fine. Are you feeling sick?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well I was looking for you for quite a while. I thought the distance would make you ill."

Izuku shrugs slightly, unsure of himself. "Yeah, a little."

Katsuki clicks his tongue. "Idiot. Don't wander off, you have no reason to."

"Okay, Kacchan." Izuku says, because there is nothing else to say. He lets the heat in his cheeks consume him. Lets it rush to his head.

This is tricky. This is scary.

Katsuki doesn't always enjoy working out in the gym - he finds it somewhat boring. What he wants to focus on is quirk training, but what he needs to is physical training. And if that meant lifting weights like an idiot in a room full of other idiots, that's just what he was going to have to do.

Kirishima, who loves the gym, pushes weights up and away from his chest, heaving out a strangled breath every time he raises his arms. "Twenty-three." He whispers softly. "Twenty-f-four!"

Katsuki groans. The gym, or at least UA's gym facility, was only about looking good. No one cared about what they were doing - only how they looked. And the problem with that was that people cared too much about themselves to notice anyone else - and therefore the whole idea was pointless.

"Twenty-five!"

"Idiot."

And so Katsuki rests his back against the wall-long mirror and sips at his bottle of water. He had been working out, but when Kirishima got too into the idea of competition, he got bored. It wasn't like Katsuki to refuse a challenge, and therefore Kirishima discerned that there must be something wrong with him.

Katsuki doesn't notice the weights clattering to the floor as Kirishima quits his work out. Doesn't look up when Kirishima stands in front of him. Doesn't yell like he usually would when Kirishima kicks his leg.

He looks, however, when Kirishima slides down next to him. "So, how's... you know?"

"I know?"

"Like, you know."

Katsuki has a short temper, and bites back a string of insulting irritations. Instead, he squints. "No. I don't."

"Well I can't say his name - he's right there!" Kirishima nods his head toward Izuku, who was working out with Ochako. Katsuki had demanded he come with, in fear he'd fall sick again.

"Deku? What about him?"

Kirishima deadpans. "What do you mean? Everything about him, starting with the fact you're in lov-"

"No. Stop that." Katsuki flushes. "I don't know what you mean."

"Fine, you can pretend all you want." Kirishima sighs, like a wise and whimsical figure. As if he were Katsuki's elder, reflecting on young love. "But how is it?"

"How's wha-"

"Bakugo! Just tell me!"

Katsuki grunts his way into silence, taking long gulps of water to prolong talking. He knew what Kirishima meant. He knew too well. "Difficult."

"Yeah? Why?"

"Why wouldn't it be? He's Deku. That's not... easy."

Kirishima can't help but smile. "I know. But, I want more details."

"Well," Katsuki groans, trying to remember anything. "He slept in my bed. Twice."

"What?!" Kirishima jumps, loud enough to alert nearby students. "Seriously? What, like, with you?"

"You're asking for too many details now."

"Oh, come on! That huge! What- like in your bed? At night?"

"Are you special?" Katsuki frowns. "Obviously."

Kirishima laughs. "Well, I'm clarifying!"

"Yes, in the bed, at night." Katsuki elaborates, tongue twisting in the last moments. "With... me."

Kirishima has to clamp his mouth in order to keep Izuku from looking over. Who knew his simple being was holding so many secrets. "Really? What was it like?"

"Why do you want to know what it's like to sleep in a bed with Deku?"

"Chill bro, I'm not stealing him from you." Kirishima giggles. "I wanna know if you're like... making progress."

Katsuki scrunches his face as if he's swallowed a lemon. "That's so fuckin' weird."

"Hey, I have to know!"

Katsuki stares into the endless distance of the gym a while before considering what he might say in response. Izuku fiddles with one of the treadmills, presumably showing something to Ochako, as she is the one standing on the machine. He laughs after a while, and though the room bustles with noise and awful upbeat music, the sound of Izuku's joy is the only thing that pushes past Katsuki's sound barrier. His smile. The shape of his shoulders. The mess of his hair catching the artificial lighting. Him, really. He's all Katsuki can see.

"Sure, for me." Katsuki decides, only after remembering what Kirishima had said. "I don't think... I don't know. He's a nerd, that's all."

Kirishima shrugs, waiting for Katsuki to finish his thoughts before deciding to speak. Katsuki always had more to say, and he had grown to learn this. "I just.. I don't know. You think he'd be freaked if he knew?"

Kirishima smiles. "I think he'd be happy."

"Really?" Katsuki rests his head against the glass. "I don't know. I'm sure he'd never speak to me again."

"I wouldn't be too sure. He thinks very highly of you."

"I think highly of All Might - doesn't mean I wanna fuck him."

Kirishima can't help but snort at the stupidity of it, and laughs along with Katsuki's frustrations. He sighs, letting out the last of his amusement, and turns to look at Izuku. At that moment, he looks too, wide green eyes staring back at Kirishima. It's almost creepy, how he looks just as Kirishima does - but Izuku can be creepy when he wants to. He doesn't smile. He doesn't move, even, for a second, before turning back and occupying himself with something else. Kirishima looks at Katsuki, and noticing how he's busy pulling a plastic label from his water bottle, deduces that Izuku would have smiled if Katsuki were looking. Perhaps the idea he wasn't made him sad.

"I don't know, man." Kirishima breaks the silence. "I wouldn't advise you to do something I thought was stupid, and I don't think telling Midoriya how you feel is stupid."

Katsuki sucks in his breath and waits, lungs full and heart dropping. "Yeah, maybe." He says unconvincingly, and stands a beat after. "What about that competition then?"

Kirishima flashes his sharp teeth. "That's what I like to hear!"

Izuku can, with some reluctance, feel a sensation taking over his body as thickly as molasses. As bitter as bile, and sinister as a snake. It is, with no doubt, a jealous feeling corrupting his blood. He doesn't want to pinpoint why.

But Katsuki just laughed, and there's no stopping the green-eyed monster that influences him. Kirishima laughs too, only he has a hand on Katsuki's shoulder, giggling over a game of Uno. They sit with others too.

Katsuki hates Uno.

Why is he with them?

Why is he having fun?

Izuku can't seem to bare it, and buries his head in his homework to avoid the ready vomit that creeps up his throat. It's an awful feeling, but one he's accustomed to. Katsuki always brings about jealousy, like a flower brings pollen. Anything beautiful has a price, and those beautiful souls that wander the earth as Katsuki does don't offer anything positive to the people who have to watch them. Only jealousy and bitterness.

Izuku scribbles out a few misspelt words as he realises he'd being to cynical. He actually loves Katsuki, and his life is lighter with him in it. But the idea of him having fun outside of his being makes him irritable.

It hurts, really, to see someone so hostile get along with someone so quickly, despite waiting years for it. Kirishima didn't do anything to gain Katsuki's affection, he is only nice. Izuku would have sold his soul if it were possible just to have Katsuki look at him a little softer. It felt unhealthy, to love someone so much, but how could love be a flaw? It isn't, he decides, and starts to spell his words correctly. 

Iida isn't oblivious to the things around him. "Do you need help, Midoriya?" He asks suspiciously, noting Izuku's frantic behavior.

"Help? No - No help." Izuku smiles tightly.

"Are you sure? You don't look entirely certain with yourself."

"I'm certain." Izuku says, pencil bobbing as he writes.

Iida follows his line of sight, and notices how Izuku's eyes rest on Katsuki's table. Denki yells as Sero makes him pick up three cards. "Did you want to join them? They'd let you."

"No! Definitely not."

"Are you sure it's safe to sit so far from Bakugo? I do remember you mentioned a quirk about the fever." Iida suggests helpfully, his poor simple soul not picking up on Izuku's irritations.

"No, it's fine."

"Really? I would think it foolish to-"

"It's okay." Izuku interrupts, harsher than before. He doesn’t mean his temperamental tone, but something about the situation makes him bitter.

All he can think about is why Kirishima? And the thought drives him mad enough to fury.

Not quite fury.

”Well, I suggest you act with your best interests at heart.” Iida shrugs complacently, something of a fraternal guidance in his tone.

Izuku doesn’t break his gaze from the table. It feels like looking into the sun. Into something beautiful and serene, all the while burning your retina into blindness. The table laughs - joy beams from the wooden surface like the heat from a fire. How could something so wonderful make Izuku feel so bleak?

Katsuki looks much too happy. He never looks so happy with other people, as he’s far too irritable to handle them. But something about those guys makes him happy. What is it about them that Izuku doesn’t possess?

For a moment, all Izuku can do is sit with his jealously and wait for it to consume him like a deadly virus. All until red eyes lock him into stillness. Katsuki, and his persistent gaze, freezes Izuku’s body. Mind. Ever-racing thoughts.

He doesn’t look displeased. He doesn’t look much of anything. Unassuming. Unwavering. But the intensity in his gaze makes Izuku’s throat close with fear.

Or gladness. Happiness to be noticed.

But mostly fear.

And within the unchanging gaze, string of tension straight between their eyes, something wonderful emerges. A smile. A thick and tender ounce of joy.

Katsuki smiles.

Then he waves. Small and smooth.

Then he turns away.

Izuku feels the jealously wash from him as fast as it came. A smile. A wave.

A connection.

Chapter Text

Katsuki hates Uno. The game makes him too angry. It’s all people making up their own rules, or forgetting their turns, or placing wrong cards, or making him pick up cards.

His patience isn’t crafted to a game like that.

And yet Kirishima begged him to play, and he thought maybe he’d remembered the game wrong.

But he hadn’t. Not at all.

A blue seven lays in the middle of the table, and it’s Denki’s turn. He looks at his cards a little too long, and Katsuki begins to grow tired. He’s got three cards, compared to the average of six everyone else has, and he really wants to win.

”Okay, there!” Denki grins as he places down a yellow six. A yellow six.

”Are you fucking kidding me? Yellow? Six?” Katsuki spits, face contorted with a little too much offence.

”No? Can’t I do that?”

”Obviously you fucking can’t.” Katsuki says harshly, picking up his former card and throwing it at him. “Do something sensible or pick up a card.”

Denki frowns at his deck - his marvellous deck of eight cards - and slowly works out each one.

”Surely you’re not that stupid.” Katsuki deadpans.

”Training took it out of me! I’m usually better at this game, but all the electricity I used made me stupid.” Denki groans.

Mina giggles at him, while Jiro laughs outright. She leans into his shoulder and looks at his cards. “That one, the blue one.” She whispers, pointing a finger at his blue nine.

”Oh, yes, I forgot I had a blue one.” Denki smiles, and places the card with authority. No one comments on the distance between him and Jiro, but everyone notices. Love is easy to spot if you’re not in it.

Then it’s Katsuki’s turn, and he does not have a blue card or a nine. The idea of it almost makes him sick. “Pass me a card.” He mumbles to Kirishima, so ashamedly that it’s inaudible.

”What?” Kirishima questions.

Katsuki, in his futile pride, rolls his eyes. “Shut up!” He yells and grabs a card. A blue card. Lucky day. 

Mina laughs. “Are you seriously so stuck up that you can’t ask for a card? You’re winning, chill!” She offers.

”I don’t ask for cards! Cards ask for me.” Katsuki says, somewhat stupidly. It makes the table laugh at his character.

Though he’d seldom admit it, Katsuki liked making his friends laugh. Rarely people laughed with him, they were all too scared to speak around him in public. Which was dumb, but he tended to yell at people who expressed too much whimsy when he was so angry. So the abundant laughter of his new friends was nice. Pleasant, even.

After a while of circular turns, Katsuki was down to one card. He waited, almost anxiously, as Denki thought over his next move. The group, wordlessly, had accepted Jiro in helping Denki whenever it was his turn. He was right, about being good at the game usually, and therefore everyone chose to give him the benefit of the doubt.

After a whisper, Denki plays. “Pick up 2!” He grins victoriously.

Katsuki could almost kill him. Staring down at his meagre yellow seven, his win was slipping away. “The fuck… Pick up two?”

”You heard me!” Denki smirks. “No more Uno for you-no!” He winks.

Katsuki chucks his card onto the table and grabs two more. His face, struggling to be still, contorts in a petulant frown. “Fuck you.”

The table laughs once more - and this time Katsuki isn’t angry about losing. In fact, he’s glad. He’s having fun. Fun with friends who like him, and aren’t just sponging off his greatness. He grins, then he laughs too. The noise is blurred into its surroundings and Katsuki can’t remember feeling so light.

As Kirishima plays his turn, Katsuki falls into a lack-of-sleep induced haze, where he can’t quite focus on the game. He lets his eye wander around the common room, until it falls on an all too familiar green.

Izuku, who is sitting doing homework with Iida, is looking at him. Yes, in that very moment, watching him.

Katsuki feels a limp form in his throat. He thinks of what Kirishima said to him, about telling the truth, and it locks the lump so thickly in his throat that the only way to remove it is by vomiting it up.

Until, he notices a somber look in Izuku’s eye. A flaccid fall in his hair. A pale tinge in his cheeks. Izuku looks sad, if nothing else, and all Katsuki can think about is wanting to cheer him up.

His lips almost move on their own, but in the state of bliss he once was in, they curve into a simple smile. His hand, long and soft fingers, wave to him just a little too sweetly, and he drops the scene all together. Turning toward the game again, he doesn’t see Izuku’s reaction.

But he feels it. Feels the soft relaxing of Izuku’s expression. Feels the cooling of his mood.

And that - that brings him a greater joy than a game of Uno ever could.

Every time the clock hit 9, most people went to bed. Katsuki found himself, usually, going up to bed around 8 - but tonight was different. Tonight he had someone to look out for. And if Izuku wanted to stay up until a ridiculous time of night, he would too.

Not happily, though.

”Bakugo, what are you still doing here?” Mina asks absentmindedly, making herself and Jiro a drink. It was pink and sparkly and stupid, but lacking the alcohol a drink like that usual had.

”Hah?”

”I mean, you’re always such a Scrooge.” She giggles, adding ice to their little thin glasses.

”A Scrooge.” Katsuki frowns, fighting the urge to yawn.

”Yeah, with that dumb nightgown and silly oil lamp. I’m just saying you like to sleep.”

Jiro snorts, taking a sip of her sickly-looking drink. “Yeah, why do you choose to sleep so early?”

”Why do you sleep so late?” Katsuki spits.

The girls only laugh, sharing a look that only they understand. Katsuki finds it too simple to bother about, and sinks further into the sofa. He was accompanied by Sero, but whether or not he was asleep wasn’t clear. Kirishima had been sitting beside him, but got a little too hungry and wandered off in search of something to eat. Katsuki’s shirt bunches where he sits on the couch, far too low to be comfortable.

But he is uncomfortable. He’s tired and bored and much too conscious about being awake at 11pm on a school night.

Izuku laughs some distance away, sharing a joke of some kind between Ochako and Tsuyu. He looks happy, but slightly preoccupied. Perhaps with thought - Katsuki didn’t know.

He had a habit of rubbing the back of his neck when he was carrying a bit too much. Usually when something played to frequently in his brain, or worried him. Now, when Izuku laughed, he covered his neck with his hand, smoothing out the skin below his hair.

What was he thinking about?

What was he laughing about?

”Bakugo, you want one?” Mina asks suddenly, drawing him from his train of thought. She’s holding her hideous drink.

”I don’t drink that shit.” Katsuki says sourly, frowning at the thought of swallowing that sugar-filled, terminal-illness-inducing drink.

”Live a little?” Mina says sarcastically, but doesn’t protest much further. 

The moment she stops speaking, Katsuki casts his eyes back to Izuku. How could one not? His simple smile and freckled cheeks draw one’s eyes as strongly as metal and magnet. The sound of his voice sickly sweet. Katsuki couldn’t possibly get enough of it.

He felt, almost unnaturally, a strong sense of yearning. A connection too defined to be casual. As if there were a long thread connecting them, and all he had to do was yank it to get Izuku's attention. And oh how he wants Izuku's attention. He can almost feel himself latching onto the string, fingers rubbing against the rope and burning his skin - but pulling. Begging. Reaching for Izuku in some forceful way.

And then, as if he had really tugged the string, Izuku turns his head. It feels surreal, as if your favourite character in a painting had awoken and stepped out of the frame to greet you. It didn't seem like the Izuku he had always known, but something different. But, in the back of Katsuki's conscience, he felt the change - only it was within him and not Izuku. Katsuki felt his heart open, if only just a little, for the green-haired nerd he'd always known.

Kirishima ruins the moment by slapping Katsuki on the shoulders and jumping down beside him. "Take a look at this!" He says, a little too loudly. "Tokoyami made me a milkshake."

Katsuki raises and drops his eyebrows with little distinguishment between a flat face and a slightly raised one. He couldn't really, in this moment, have cared less.

"Come on, man. Look." Kirishima tries again, showcasing the dark auburn drink. Chocolate, maybe, or caramel. "Freaking delicious."

"Yeah." Katsuki squints, just as impressed as an artist looking at a child's drawing. 

Kirishima frowns, taking a long (and probably very cold) glug of his sugary mess. "What's up?" He asks, notably quieter.

Katsuki, eyes betraying him, shrugs as he glances again to Izuku - still looking back at him. Only now he squinted unnaturally. Maybe frowned. "Nothing."

"What's, uh, keeping you up?" Kirishima asks, as if he knows exactly what is keeping Katsuki up.

"Nothing." Katsuki says again, impossibly bored, voice tainted with fatiuge.

"Well, it's gotta be something." Kirishima deduces. "Maybe, you're up because-"

"Sh-" Katsuki begins, as though to say shut up. "Shh." He decides instead, and links the two together - a calmer approach.

Kirishima grins, pleased somehow. "I get ya', man." He says all-knowingly. Then, he begins to whisper, face too close to Katsuki's ear. It was weird, presumably, for Izuku to watch. Katsuki can see this with the way Izuku's face contorts as Kirishima moves closer. "You know, I don't think Uraraka would be too keen on staying over there if I happened to mention, loudly enough, that Mina is making her favourite strawberry drink..."

"Good for her." Katsuki says uneasily, too conscience of the impression this interaction is leaving on Izuku.

"I think you should talk to him. You're here anyway, because of him. I know you are."

Katsuki hums with a petulant frown. He slowly, down to deep deliberation, turns to Kirishima and shrugs. "Fine. Say your piece."

Kirishima grins at the permission to put his plan into motion. "Wow, Mina!" He says loudly, and theatrically. Mina looks up suddenly with a confused gait. "Those drinks look really good. Very well done! Are they those nice strawberry ones?" Kirishima finishes robotically.

"Uh, yeah?" Mina squints. "I thought you hated them."

Ochako stands in a second, excusing herself from Izuku and dragging Tsuyu along with her. "Mina, Mina! Please make us some!" Ochako begs, beside the sofa in an instant. Izuku is left alone, and he rests his head in his hands, staring at them.

Staring at Katsuki, and Katsuki stares back.

He stands, and makes his way over to Izuku with just about the same anxiety as a soldier crossing no-mans land. When he reaches Izuku's flimsy table, he sits with no request.

The air is cold, and so is Izuku.

"So, you're up late." Katsuki says instead of saying I love you.

"Yeah." Izuku says flatly, like he's displeased with something. What - Katsuki can't work out.

"Do you always sleep late?"

"Usually."

It felt like talking to a steel pipe. Only the steel pipe could frown and look away like a petulant child. Katsuki wasn't a patient person. Not at all.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Wrong with me?" Izuku mimics, marginally offended.

Katsuki deepens his scowl and leans his head forward. "Yes. What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me." Izuku says back, only half as sharply.

"Well, then, stop acting strange."

Izuku folds his arms defiantly. "I'm not acting strange."

"Stop acting stupid, then."

"Maybe at night I turn into a completely different person and you're just never awake to see it." Izuku says, rather futile. As if his response had any sensible credit whatsoever.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Katsuki rolls his eyes.

There's a beat of awful silence before Katsuki can't take it anymore. "What is wrong with you?" He says, less critically and more earnestly.

Izuku waits a while, and though Katsuki isn't patient, he can tell if he leaves it Izuku will conjure up an answer. "It's hot, is all. I'm warm."

Katsuki, unable to even begin to believe that, opts for peace over arguing. "Wanna go outside?"

"If I wanted to go outside, I would."

"I don't know where you get the nerve, but it's certainly not from your mother!" Katsuki says impatiently, growing tired of Izuku's nonsense.

"The nerve?"

"Your dumbass sass. I was asking you a nice question"

Izuku pauses, as is he's considering something, and waits a beat longer. "Outside would be nice." He mumbles, like a child forced to apologise to a sibling.

It's cold and dark, and the stars aren't visible anywhere but forward - blocked by the roof of the porch. Izuku stands by the railing, while Katsuki leans all his weight onto it. He balls his hands togehter in front of him and squints at the swaying trees, a mess of black and green.

There's nothing to say between them and yet there's everything to say. There's life to deliberate and feelings to fumble, and yet words don't come to mind. Katsuki wants to find something to say, but he's stuck on Izuku's stupid face, and his terrible attitude. Something had to be bothering him.

Izuku, strangely, is the first to speak. He leans his weight on the railing too. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Why has everyone asked me that?"

"Because usually you'd be asleep."

Katsuki huffs. "Well, I think it's obvious."

"No."

Katsuki squints a little, eyes focusing too hard on the simple breeze in the trees. "You'll be... I don't know, sick - if I went to bed."

Izuku, weirdly, is surprised by this. His features raise slightly. "Yeah?"

"Well, you know that."

"I know," Izuku shrugs sullenly. "But you know that, too." There's a weight in the air as Izuku speaks, as if his words are heavy and final. You know that, too. As if Katsuki had never before been privy to Izuku's suffering. As if, by some miracle, Katsuki can recognise that his actions might have consequences. Awfully, it's true.

Katsuki hums lightly. "You feel like going to bed?"

Izuku thinks for a while. "No, not now. You're welcome to, though." He says absentmindedly, as if he's not all there. This provokes Katsuki to look at him, and he notices the sullen expression on Izuku face. After a while, Izuku looks too. He doesn't smile.

"Will you come with me?"

Izuku raises his eyebrows. "To bed?"

The question, in all, had glaring connotations. Katsuki couldn't quite deal with the intimacy of the situation. Of Izuku's closeness. Of his eyes, so wide and glassy. "Y- yeah. It's not worth getting sick... sicker. You- sleeping in your own room."

Izuku remains stoic as Katsuki fumbles out a list of strange incoherencies. "Sleeping in your room is good for my health?"

"In a nutshell."

Izuku deliberates a while, not breaking forlorn eye contact. "Fine. Your wish is my command." Izuku says finally, dryly, as he pushes off the railing. 

They walk, in silence, to Katsuki's room.

And all the while Katsuki wonders just what the hell is wrong with Izuku.

Alone, but not lonely, Izuku rests against the wall of Katsuki's bed. This time around, it's Katsuki too busy for bed, and Izuku watches him fumble with something on his desk. The wall, spanning across the left side of Katsuki's bed (due to the bed being pushed into a corner) serves as a backrest for Izuku. He rests his body against the grey wall and his legs bent before him. He waits, patiently, for Katsuki to finish.

By the looks of it, he's sorting school work. Probably deciding what to bring for the commencing day. Izuku used to do that, prepare his things before bed, but now he usually crashes out the moment he gets in, saving the sorting for the morning.

Suddenly, Katsuki is finished, and turning to Izuku. "You're sitting up?"

"Not okay?" Izuku questions flatly.

"Just.. expected you to be sleeping." Katsuki shrugs as he, without reason for concealment, sits beside Izuku on the bed.

There's an awkwardness that blends seamlessly with normality. A living juxtaposition. There's a natural comfort in each others presence as equally as there is an unease. Katsuki looks over, and notes Izuku's furrowed face.

"What's wrong?"

"With me?" Izuku finishes. Or, assumes.

"No, what's bothering you? And if you want to say 'nothing' don't say anything at all. I don't have the patience." Katsuki frowns, shrugging off the cold air. The room, actually, was very hot (no thanks to Katsuki's various heaters) but the look in Izuku's eye brings a chill to the room.

When Izuku doesn't speak, Katsuki knows he'd being stupid. "Okay, very funny."

"I can be, sometimes."

"What's wrong?" Katsuki asks again, and this time Izuku yawns.

"What, uh, were you and, um, Kirishima talking about?" Izuku asks eventually.

"Don't change the subject."

"I'm not."

The finality of the words lands Katsuki in a slight state of confusion. He furrows his brow, feeling his skin crease. "No? He was talking about pink-cheek's drink - how she wanted it."

"Next to your head?"

"Don't know. He was whispering."

"About Uraraka's favourite drink?" Izuku says flatly.

"Uh," Katsuki thinks. "Yeah?" In all honesty, he kind of was.

"Okay." Izuku shrugs, but it's stiff and tense as he shakes the bed slightly. "That's all."

"Is it?" Katsuki asks.

"No."

Katsuki, actively against mind-games, let's his thoughts known. "What's that shitty-haired idiot got to do with anything? Do you hate him?"

"Kirishima?" Izuku says, life bleeding back into his words. One could say he was shocked.

"Yeah."

"I don't - hate him.” Izuku says, strangely broken up.

”You dislike—“

”No! I like him. A lot.”

”Then?”

Izuku turns to Katsuki with an anxious frown. A strange look. A pleading look. One of a dog who knows it’s done wrong. “Well,” he starts, but hardly finishes, shrugging away the rest of the words.

Theres many things Izuku wants to say, but the hot air of Katsuki’s room isn’t where he wants to say them. Nor when he’s tired and drained and sick. Or when Katsuki is glaring at him with a profound irritation.

The heater clicks off and the room is filled with silence. It was hard to tell before, but the low buzz of the machine was filling the room with a tense noise. Now all that was left was Izuku’s far too loud thoughts that only he could hear.

After a moment of staring, Katsuki’s face starts to soften. It’s a strange and gradual shift, but he looses his irritable scowl. Izuku softens too, watching him with a bug-like curiosity.

”Speak, nerd.” Katsuki says as tenderly as he can.

”What’s so great about Kirishima compared to me?” Izuku asks finally, and the question throws Katsuki like an anchor to the ocean.

”What—?”

”I mean, I’ve known you for years and you hate me, and you’ve know him for months and you’re like— all over eachother!” Izuku says with a little more passion. “What has he got to make him so likeable? What better about him?”

Katsuki nods slowly, taking in the questions like stones on his back. “Better?” Katsuki asks the air. “He’s not better than you.”

”Then why are you so much closer? You whisper and talk together. You never whisper to me.”

”What’s there to whisper about?”

Izuku rolls his eyes lightly. “Anything. Everything. I just want you to share things with me, too.”

Katsuki scoffs. “I don’t tell that idiot anything.”

”But you whisper.”

”About drinks and sparkles!” Katsuki says flatly, referring to Mina’s drink. “Nothing secret and interesting.”

”So you’ve never told him a secret? Not one?”

Katsuki wants to answer, but then he begins to remember. “Well, maybe like, one. But it’s hardly anything fun.”

Izuku, miraculously, looks hurt by this. “Really?”

”Yeah.”

Izuku nods, but he looks unsatisfied. “You tell him things,” he begins to clarify, “that you don’t tell anyone else?”

”One thing. Nothing special.” It’s that I love you.

”Nothing special? It has to be special if you don’t tell anyone else.”

Katsuki scoffs again, evasive. “Look, we’re hardly buddy-buddy. He’s just… less annoying than a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean he’s better than everyone.”

”Less annoying than me?” Izuku says lightly.

Katsuki squints to avoid making any other face. Any expression that would betray his softening heart. “No. You’re not… Well, everyone’s a little annoying. But so is All Might, and I still love him.”

Izuku bites his lip to avoid smiling. “You still love him? Do you love me?”

”I don’t love anyone.”

”What about me?”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “I liked you better when you were gonna cry. I don’t love anyone.” Anyone but you.

”Okay. If I cry will you tell me?”

”No.”

”So you love me?”

”I hate you, actually.” Katsuki says, but his tender tone betrays him. “A lot.”

”Okay,” Izuku says, smile breaking into his tone. He’s easy to cheer up. “That’s fine.”

The room, colder physically but warmer emotionally, falls silent when Izuku stops talking. In the quiet, Izuku lets his smile slip, and rests his tired head on Katsuki’s shoulder. It’s firm and frankly uncomfortable, but Katsuki’s awkward gait makes it enjoyable.

”For what it’s worth,” Izuku starts quietly. Almost a whisper. “I love you.” He says almost quieter. Weaker, like he’s unsure. But Izuku couldn’t be less sure - it’s a fact of life he’s known all too long.

”Love?” Katsuki whispers back, not understanding how to take it.

”Can you tell me a secret, Kacchan?” Izuku asks, head still resting on Katsuki’s shoulder. His hair obscures his vision, but there’s not much to see anyway. “A secret you’ve never told anyone else - so that I know I’m still your favourite.”

Katsuki thinks of a smaller Izuku, skin kissed by the sun, hair tousled by the wind, smile wide because Katsuki made it so. He thinks of an innocent life, a pure life - a bank of joy. He thinks of skipping in the river, jeans rolled up to their knees and still getting wet. He thinks of catching bugs in nets and throwing them into Izuku’s hair to scare him. He thinks of dinner at Auntie Inko’s and her stellar food.

He thinks of Izuku - when Izuku was his favourite. And he realises he never forgot that. Izuku won’t ever be second best, Katsuki will only be meaner.

This thought fuels him.

”I can’t hear very well.” Katsuki admits, and he has never done so before. Not been to his mother who realised she has to shout a little louder to grab his attention, or the doctors who were adamant something was wrong. “The quirk - I think. My quirk. It’s loud, so, I can’t hear too great.”

”Really?” Izuku says, and the spark returns to his eyes. He sits up, looks around to Katsuki.

”Yeah.”

”Why don’t you tell Hatsume? She’d make you something to help!” Izuku smiles kindly, carelessly, like everything is simple. “Or well, maybe ask another support course student. She can be a handful.”

”Hell no.” Katsuki winces. “No one can know.”

”That you have bad hearing?” Izuku frowns. “Why not?”

”I’m supposed to be, like, amazing.” Katsuki says a little too meekly. “If people know my quirk is breaking my eardrums they’ll think I’m some incapable loser. Everyone is freaked by you ‘cause you can’t control your quirk.”

Izuku, who is well within his rights to be offended by that, smiles wider. “But no one thinks I’m weak.”

”No, but—“

”—But what! A quirk that’s hard to control is a powerful one. And anyway, you’ve got total control. That fact that you still work on it anyway means you’re stronger than it. I think it’s impressive, honestly.”

”What that I’m fuckin’ deaf?”

Izuku giggles. “No! Well, not really. That you still fight despite it! It’s cool, I think.”

”Well, if you think it.” Katsuki says sarcastically.

”Then most people probably will.”

Katsuki scoffs. “Aizawa won’t.”

”Aizawa keeps me around despite me being totally useless in the first few months.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and leans his head back on the wall. Izuku, now sitting up and far from Katsuki, watches the way his neck moves and hair falls.

He looks wonderful, even in the dimly lit room. “Kacchan?” Izuku asks, just to watch him move. He does, lifting his head back up. “Even if Aizawa doesn’t, I still think you’re perfect.”

Katsuki’s face doesn’t contort, but his cheeks darken with a faint blush. “Yeah?” He says lowly.

”Definitely.”

Katsuki watches Izuku, sitting in front of him, with all the intensity of a vulture. If he could just reach out and touch him, brush his knuckles against his freckled cheeks.

When Izuku finches, he realises his desires aren’t to secret. Katsuki rubs a finger over the smooth skin of Izuku’s cheek, delighting in the way Izuku shifts against his touch - never before so tender.

”Kacchan?”

”How many freckles ‘you got now?” Katsuki asks. “When you were four, you had 578.” 

“That many?”

”You have more, now.”

Izuku burns deeper. “Surely not on my face.”

”No. There’s freckles all over you.” Katsuki shrugs. “But they’re small. It’s less than you think.”

”Really?”

Katsuki hums. There’s a thicker string between them. Deeper. More genuine. Katsuki could break it if he only leant forward. Just a bit. There’s such a small gap.

Maybe his desires aren’t so secret.

Chapter Text

The first time Katsuki ever kissed a boy was when he was four. Coincidentally, so was Izuku.

It’s not so much of a coincidence. Izuku kissed him first.

And it was hardly a kiss.

But, beaten down by the relentless sun, the boys lay on their backs in their favourite field of grass. It was a forgotten field, far from their homes, and the grass was never cut. In their small and simple bodies, laying down meant drowning in the grass. Katsuki pushed the grass away from his face and saw Izuku there, too.

”Hi Kacchan.” Izuku giggled, face burning in the sun.

”You’re burning.” Katsuki frowned.

”It’s okay,” Izuku shrugged, grass shifting around his small shoulders. “It’s worth it.”

”But then you’ll look like a tomato.” Katsuki said flatly.

”I don’t mind. My mom calls it sun-kissed.”

”Sun-kissed? I call it burnt.” Katsuki rolls his eyes.

Izuku only giggled, amused and now far too used to Katsuki’s flat tone. “Okay. That’s fine.” Izuku said, standing on his two little legs. He stepped through the grass and stood before Katsuki’s head, looking down at him.

He crouched, heads close together, and placed a small and sweet kiss on Katsuki’s forehead. He giggled. “Now you’re sun-kissed too.” Izuku said stupidly. “Or at least kissed.”

Katsuki can only remember the sound of the crickets and Izuku’s wide, white smile.

Reality is different. This is different. Katsuki is putting into motion grave actions that he can’t take back. He is not a child in the summer sun. He is a teenager, in his bedroom, faced with the love of his life.

Katsuki can’t remember when he decided he wanted to kiss Izuku. He can’t even remember if it was now when he realised he wanted to. Perhaps he had always wanted to kiss Izuku. 

But Izuku’s cheeks were lightly dusted in a pale pink, and his hair reflected the soft light of the lamp. His eyes, wide and open and staring, pulled Katsuki in like no other.

He couldn’t be shocked when he broke the distance and let their lips touch.

And now, in the moment, Katsuki has to deal with his decision.

At first, he’s more reluctant than Izuku. His hand quivers just above the duvet as he decides whether or not to touch Izuku. Eventually, he does, and places a nervous hand on the back of Izuku’s neck.

Izuku’s lips are soft and warm, and he tastes like the apples Katsuki watched him eat one after the other. He isn’t nervous, Katsuki can feel in it in his still movements and firm posture.

Why isn’t he nervous? Why is Katsuki so nervous?

Izuku pulls back, their lips breaking with a quiet click. He looks at Katsuki through his lashes, blush darkened on his freckled cheeks. “Kacchan?” He almost whispers. “Why did you do that?”

Katsuki feels his face flush, hot and uncomfortable, and his stomach rises to his throat. A wave of unfamiliar anxiety floods his body and hits him like an anchor. He feels the weight of a mistake. A grave and dangerous one.

”Well— I— I’m not—“ Katsuki starts, words falling from his mouth as desperately as water through a broken dam.

”Kacchan,” Izuku says softly, reassuringly. When Katsuki continues his string of strange and incoherent nothings, he tries again. “Kacchan.” Izuku says firmer, but no less tender. He grabs Katsuki by the wrists and looks him dead in the eye.

”It’s okay, Kacchan. I’m only asking if you like me.”

”Like you?”

Izuku almost laughs. A smile breaks through instead. “Yes. You kissed me. Does that mean you’re interested in me?”

Katsuki stares with wide and frightened eyes, as if Izuku had asked where he’d want to die. “I— I don’t—“ He tries, gulps, and tries again. “I don’t know.”

”You don’t? That’s okay—“

”No,” Katsuki says, firmer. He breathes back some life into his body. “No, I do. I am. I— I don’t… Uh.”

Izuku finally shows a sign of being impacted by this, and jumps a little in shock. “You.. are? Into me?”

Katsuki had never looked so bashful. Izuku wanted to pick up a camera and take a picture, never to forget the look on his face. He was evasive and nervous, and his pale cheeks lit up with blossoming pink splashes. “I guess.”

Izuku relaxes at Katsuki’s familiar tone, and lets a smile escape on his lips. “You guess? You guess you’re in love with me?” Izuku says playfully, perhaps even exaggerating.

Katsuki shrugs. “Well— I know? I… I am - in love with you, that is.” Katsuki says in an attempt to correct his behaviour.

Izuku feels his body melt. “You are?” He asks, as wide eyed as a baby looking to the stars.

”I am what?”

”In love with me?”

Katsuki shrugs again, maybe to shake off his awkwardness. “Yeah? I don’t think… I don’t think it was that much of a secret.”

”Are you kidding me? I’ve nearly died because of you.” Izuku says sarcastically.

”So? I am still nice to you. Sometimes.”

”Sometimes as in never?” Izuku squints, suddenly serious. “There is no world in which that could have been obvious, ever.”

”I bought you a cool comic?”

Izuku could almost laugh. “You also tried to murder me with your stupid explosion gauntlet.” Izuku says flatly. “Murder me, Kacchan.”

”You were going to jump out the way. If anything, I was letting you show off your skills. I mean, you won the fight.” Katsuki says smugly, like he’s proud of himself. After a moment, he cracks a grin. “Did you actually think I was going to kill you?”

”Well, yes.” Izuku frowns.

Katsuki laughs. He has an uneven and boyish laugh, natural - like a trickling stream. “Don’t be an idiot, Deku. I never would have done it.”

”I’m not so sure.”

”It’s true!”

After a pause, Izuku smiles too. The idea that Katsuki likes him, loves him, enough to kiss him hits him all of a sudden. Katsuki may be unclear in his emotions, but he’s not a liar. If he says he loves Izuku, there’s no reason Izuku shouldn’t believe him.

”Aren’t you gonna ask me?” Izuku says, tone lower. Slightly suggestive. Katsuki had never seen Izuku with a flirty smirk on his face. Although, Izuku can hardly smirk. He’s grinning, really, but Katsuki knows what he wanted to do.

”Ask you what?”

”If I like you back!” Izuku says excitedly. His response is answer enough.

”Well… Do you?” Katsuki asks hesitantly.

Izuku can’t contain himself, like a piñata popping itself. “Yes, Kacchan! Totally!” He grins wider, uneven dimples lining his lips.

”Really?”

”Don't be shocked.” Izuku says, almost as if he’s actually annoyed. “I’ve been obsessed with you since birth.”

”That’s.. Yeah, that’s hard to argue.” Katsuki shrugs, but his lips quiver with a slight air of relief.

Izuku waits for Katsuki to say something, but he doesn’t. And then he waits for him to do something - but, of course he doesn’t.

The room is nervously hot, and Izuku is tired of sitting cross-legged on Katsuki’s blanketed bed before Katsuki. Katsuki still sits up against the wall, knees bent before his chest. Izuku folds his arms over Katsuki’s knees and leans forward, very close, and smiles.

”Don’t you wanna kiss me again?” Izuku asks, and Katsuki can’t stomach the look on his face. Or the tone of his voice. Or the cheap coconut scent of his hair. It all mixes together in one sweet and sultry haze.

”K— Kiss you?” Katsuki lets out.

Izuku hums and shuffles himself forward. He leans his chest against the edge of Katsuki’s legs and lines their faces up so close that Katsuki could take a bite out of his skin.

”You can, if you want.” Izuku says quietly. Perhaps he likes making Katsuki nervous.

”Kiss you?”

Izuku lets out a breathy laugh. “If that’s all you want.”

Katsuki feels his heart throbbing in his ribcage, pulsing against the walls of his chest and sending blood to his darkening cheeks. His breath hitches, the moment so tender that even a breath could ruin it.

”Yeah?” He squeaks out.

”Yeah.”

Katsuki swallows thickly, he needed to be less nervous. He lets his hands trickle through Izuku’s hair, hoping the soft familiarity of it would calm him down. Miraculously, it’s all he needed, and after a moment or two of journeying his fingers through Izuku’s green hair, his heart returns to normal.

He leans slowly, but no less hastily, and links their lips. It’s a strange and uneven kiss, considering neither of them have significant experience. Katsuki lets his hands fall on Izuku’s jaw and pulls his face closer. Their lips slowly peice together, and the act grows familiar - as if they’d kissed a million times.

Katsuki lets his legs drop from their slightly defensive position and Izuku fills the space. He wraps his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders, falling in between his legs and closer to Katsuki than ever.

Their kiss deepens. There’s no sound besides the occasional huff and breath - not until Izuku lets out slight and soft sounds of pleasure. Katsuki grins within their kiss, and Izuku feels his face burn deeper.

He pulls back, watching Katsuki with a hawk-like scrutiny. “Kacchan.” He breathes, almost breathless, and Katsuki can’t imagine he’d ever forget the sound. Izuku swallows, sighing. “Don’t you think it’s a good time to go to bed? I already kept you up so late—“

”Shut’up, Izuku.” Katsuki slurs, pulling Izuku back by the fabric around his waist. Izuku tries to ignore the use of his first-name, but his stomach flips involuntarily.

”Kacchan, I mean it. It’s late, and we do actually have school—“

”Jus’ kiss me.” Katsuki pulls Izuku’s face close and leaves soft kisses on his cheek, jaw, neck, wrist. Each one more tender than the last, ending with a quiet click. Izuku feels his body surrendering to the heat of his blood surging around his body.

Katsuki takes Izuku’s wrist and spreads small, sweet kisses down his arm. “You can’t sleep.” He whispers. “I don’t want you to.”

”But I don’t want you to miss out.”

”There’s nothing to miss.” Katsuki says as he begins to kiss each and every freckle that dusts Izuku’s arms.

Izuku giggles at the sensation. “Come on,” He grins.

Katsuki lets Izuku’s arm fall and leans in close to his face, back leaving the wall. “No.” He whispers, and kisses Izuku, softer than before.

Izuku giggles again. “Please? I’m tired too.”

Katsuki pulls back, eyebrows knitting. “You actually want to sleep?”

”Yes.”

”Really?”

Izuku sighs. “Really.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, but moves for Izuku anyway. He pulls the duvet away from the bed and sits up by the pillows of his bed. “Come on, then.”

Izuku sits up too, sliding down the sheets and relaxing into the comfort of Katsuki’s bed. It’s nicer than his, he remembers saying. It’s no less true.

Izuku tugs on Katsuki’s shirt and he slides down too, putting on a face of irritation. Izuku lets his hands find their way over his chest and rests his head against his shoulder. They’re still, for a while, and Izuku can feel Katsuki’s heart racing.

”Kacchan?” He whispers, quiet enough to go unnoticed.

”Yes?” Katsuki responds, expecting something heartfelt.

”Can you turn off the light, actually?” Izuku asks weakly, smile breaking through his tone.

”Oh my word.”

Chapter Text

Hi guys.... It is me.

The author that never finished the book.

Gulp.

I don't know why I didn't but I really liked the way the last chapter ended and I didn't feel like writing more ughhhh and I also didn't know what to write haha.

To be honest, when I was writing the fic (or, finishing the fic) I was going through a lot and there was a lot going on in my life for me not to be able to put my undivided attention toward the ending and well, yeah I just left everyone hanging. So, sorry! Lol!

But now the situation, although not resolved, is pretty calm and I'm doing well enough to go back into my fav hobby - writing!

And I know lots of you will want an ending, but truth is I don't have one. I don't ever know what to write once the characters confess... that's the only part I like.

But anyway - you might be thinking, darn how annoying. But, I have a proposal! Move on from this fic and read my new one called use my skin (to bury secrets in), first chapter out now!!!!!!!! On my page!!

I hope that is satisfying enough, and I hope u like the fic I'm writing. This time I will be sure to write an ending.

Bai