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The summer night air was stifling, sticking to Katsuki's skin like an unwanted touch. He already sweat too fucking much, so this shitty humid shit was only making it worse. Hands shoved deep into his pockets, he crossed the street as he made his way back to UA. Too many people were out tonight, among the glittering lights of whatever fucking festival the city decided to throw.
He didn't give a fuck, just wanted to get back to the dorms and take a cold shower. Rinse the stink of his internship off his skin and eat some damn dinner.
Katsuki turned down a dark street to avoid the laughing crowds of extras. Less likely to get pissed by their proximity, less likely to blow shit up. He didn't need to give anyone more reason to look down on him. Every time he thinks he's in the clear, the stupid news plays some shit about Kamino, the fall of All Might, how the greatest hero lost it all thanks to a stupid kid getting kidnapped by shitty villains because they thought he'd be better off with them.
It had been months since Kamino, and still all the crappy news segments and documentaries about it rubbed him raw. Every time he caught a glimpse of it, Katsuki usually took to a training room and exploded everything in sight until all he could feel was how raw his throat got for all his screams and the raised, pink burns on his palms. He always made sure to keep himself out of Recovery Girl's office for the next few days, just so he could feel the sting until it healed on its own.
A clatter from further up the street caught his attention. Immediately on high alert, Katsuki softened his footfalls and pressed forward with fingertips sparking. A series of raucous laughter echoed between the buildings, swallowed by the cicadas and the distant festival cheer. Peering around the corner, he caught sight of a group of teenage boys, probably his age or younger crowding an alcove in the yellow brick of the building beside them. They're all jostling and shoving around, laughing.
Katsuki let his hands fall loose to his side, the sparks fizzling out. Just some stupid kids, doing stupid shit. He clicked his tongue and hunched forward, stomping up the alley. They're not worth his time.
One of the kids at the edge of the group, some extra with some quirk not even worth noting, looked up and caught sight of him. Eyes widened at his UA uniform, the hero course buttons on his jacket catching the distant glittering lights of the night. He elbowed his buddies and they all bolted down the street, cackling as they went.
Katsuki huffed, passing the alcove they'd been crowded in. Probably sneaking some booze or some shit, or whatever it was loser extras did. He half expected to see some discarded glass bottles littering the street, so he turned half his attention to check if anything needed to be recycled.
Instead, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of it.
Of him .
The boy he hadn't spoken a word to since he'd told him to take a swan dive. The boy who haunted his dreams, whose annoying mutters echoed in his head daily, whose fawning and awed words kept him standing with his head up high in that dank basement bar filled with idiot villains.
Deku.
Deku was right there .
He hadn’t seen Deku since the entrance exams. Hadn’t seen him since he hadn’t been accepted into UA, since he probably went off to some other high school in their hometown.
And Katsuki couldn't process what the hell had happened. He just stared, wide eyed, at the scrawny boy folded into a goddamn claw machine game wrapped in caution tape and its lights flickering. There was shit taped to the glass, but all Katsuki could see was the broken boy, pressed between the glass, shoved on top of rotten stuffed animals, eyes wide and teary.
Well, one eye wide and teary. The other was a mess of bruises, swollen shut. His arms were wrapped in grimy bandages, his freckly face a mess of scratches, and goddamn tape sealing his mouth shut. Plain Loser was scrawled across the tap in thin, slanted lines. There wasn't an inch on Deku that wasn't covered in scuff marks or bandages, bruises or welts. The dark bags under his eyes rivaled Aizawa's.
Tears filled Deku's bruised eyes, and the unmistakable muffled cry of K'chn sent a tremor through Katsuki's body. His palms popped involuntarily, the light of the explosions lighting up the rest of the darkened alcove.
And Deku flinched .
Fuck, he didn't mean to do that. Fuck, what the hell happened?
He took in the rest of the shit on the machine. The lights inside flickered, the pale light darkening the hollows of Deku's face. The thing itself wasn't plugged into anything. One of those losers must have had some kind of quirk that turned it on. Katsuki saw the notes taped to the outside of the machine had the same thin, slanted handwriting.
Pathetic crybaby
Pay to poke a Quirkless
Even the name of the damned machine had been altered to Hopeless Little Dream . Those ugly ass red shoes dangled from the corner. And below that, the worst note by far.
Save me Kacchan
With a goddamn motherfucking heart.
Katsuki saw red. He was going to track down those fucking assholes and make them pay. He'd do to them what they did to Deku tenfold, fuck the consequences.
Another muffled cry broke his trembling rage. Deku was watching him from inside, arms pressed against the glass walls. The bandages on his knuckles were torn and pink, like he'd been fighting back. It almost made him want to smile.
But the murderous scowl was permanently etched into his face. He wouldn't get rid of it until those fucking extras were beaten to a goddamn pulp.
"Deku–" Katsuki's voice cracked. He pressed a hand to the glass, brushing aside the limp caution tape. "What the fuck did they do."
It wasn't a question. It was a demand for retribution.
Deku shook his head. Splatters of blood freckled the glass. He was bleeding from a head wound. Katsuki only just barely managed to keep his palms from exploding. Deku was saying something, but it was all incomprehensible beneath the tape and the glass. Katsuki banged his fist against the glass and Deku jumped, rattling the whole machine.
All Katsuki could see was save me Kacchan behind his eyes. He could hear it now, in Deku's warbly voice, how it would crack on his name, how it would echo in his ears.
Save me Kacchan
Save me Kacchan
Save me–
"I'm gonna get you out of there," he growled.
Deku looked at him steadily, his good eye unwavering. There was something there, hidden deep in those lustrous green irises. Fathomless, depthless, unending something watching Katsuki.
Katsuki's hands were trembling. The sparks on his palms skittered across the glass.
How the fuck was he going to get Deku out of there without hurting him even more?
There had been half a dozen guys over here just moments ago. They probably had quirks to help them shut the nerd inside the machine. Katsuki was strong, but could he pull this hunk of metal apart? If he let off an explosion, no matter how controlled, it would only hurt Deku. His quirk wasn't meant for anything except raw, unfiltered destruction.
For the first time, Katsuki wished he had someone else's quirk. If he could melt the damn thing with Pinky's acid, or a hardened fist from Shitty Hair could break the glass without blowing the nerd up. Tapeface could cover the glass, keep it from hitting Deku in the face. Ponytail could make a drill or a blow torch or fucking anything that didn't have the blast power of fucking dynamite.
Katsuki examined the seams between the glass and the metal body. If he could just pry something loose…
But the whole thing was welded shut, bolts and corners freshly melted. Stupid fucking extras. He'd weld them all into a fucking box and drown them in the goddamn ocean. Maybe get Floaty to sent them to the fucking stratosphere. He was going to fucking murder those assholes as soon as he tracked them down.
He didn't have any other option. He locked eyes with Deku, who seemed to have understood the conflict plaguing Katsuki pretty well. He could see it in the nerd's eyes, the pained acceptance, the resignation that he wasn't going to get out of there without suffering even more.
Katsuki pulled the ugly shoes off the edge of the machine, placing them gingerly at his feet. He pressed his hand back to the glass, gauging its thickness. He may be able to direct a blast downwards, keep the explosion minimal. He glared at Deku.
"Cover your face," he said, "Try and press into the corner."
Deku pushed and shoved himself as far back as he could, digging himself into the rotten plushies, twisting his torso away and wrapping his arms around his face and neck. Katsuki swallowed hard. His sweat pooled in the creases of his palms, his knees suddenly felt weak.
Katsuki tapped the glass once in warning. Deku seized, hunkering down, shoulders up to his ears. Katsuki could see the bandages up his arms wrapping all the way to his chest with the way his ratty t-shirt hiked up. Deku was more bruise than flesh, from what Katsuki could see.
His chest ached, the space between his ribs hollow.
Katsuki brought his palm downwards, arcing the blast as far from Deku as he could, hoping his physics were right and that the trajectory would carry the shards away from the nerd.
The explosion echoed down the empty street, rattling his ear drums. Nothing he hadn't heard before.
But it was the piercing, muffled yelp quickly bitten off that nearly brought Katsuki to his knees. His body moved before he could think. Arms reaching in to scoop the frail boy out; one arm banded around his torso and the other under his legs. He pressed Deku to his chest, feeling him trembling and shaking, a leaf in a storm. He was all skin and bones, mottled flesh and broken skin.
Katsuki fell to the street. Cradling Deku tight, he took stock of his injuries.
His back and shoulders were blooming with fresh blood, holes in his shirt from where the glass tore through. The pink on his knuckles wasn't the only injury on his hands; blood and grime were caked under his nails, fingers crooked from being broken and poorly set. Deku's clothes were soaked. He wasn't sure with what, if it was sweat or something else entirely, but it made Deku feel cold and clammy under his hands.
Gently, Katsuki brushed the glass from green curls, one hand carding through the matted locks and the other protecting his eyes from the falling pieces. He carefully plucked at the tape wrapped around Deku's jaw, easing it off as slowly as he could. He didn't know if it was hiding more injuries or not, and the last thing he wanted to do was yank it free. Katsuki may be used to peeling tape off himself after a spar with Tapeface, but Deku sure as hell wasn't.
When the tape was free, Katsuki burned it in his clenched fist until ash scattered to the street. Deku heaved a gasp, like he hadn't been able to breathe in a long time, and buried his face into Katsuki's chest. His choked cries speared Katsuki's heart.
He shimmied out of his uniform jacket as best he could without disturbing the nerd in his lap and wrapped it around his trembling shoulders. He let the nerd cry it out, knowing he wouldn't get a single word out of him until it ran its course. So he wrapped his arms gingerly around Deku and held him tight, dragging blunt nails against his scalp, untangling the knotty mess of curls one strand at a time. He wasn't sure how long they sat there. Long enough that his legs fell asleep and his back ached from keeping the same position.
Katsuki didn't care. As long as he sat there, nerd in his arms, he knew he was safe. Nothing and no one else could hurt him again so long as Katsuki was there.
In the corner of his eye, nestled in a pile of shattered glass and ash, was the note.
Save me Kacchan
It was crumpled and torn, burnt at the edges. The little heart at the bottom was gone.
When Deku’s breathing slowly evened out and the terrible wracking sobs softened to little hiccups, Katsuki leaned back just enough to be able to look at his face. God, he almost looked worse up close. Especially now that his eyes were red and puffy, his nose leaking snot.
“Deku?” Katsuki said, voice low and even. No amount of rescue trauma training could have prepared for the way Deku’s face broke at the sound of his voice, the way his eyes filled with tears again. Katsuki pressed a warm palm to his cheek, brushing the tears away before they could fall. “What happened?”
Deku shook his head, dirty hair obscuring his eyes. He felt the tremors start again in the nerd’s shoulders before he heard the crying pick back up again. Katsuki didn’t let him bury his face in his chest again. Instead, he pulled his face up gently–he didn’t want to risk moving him too much before he could tend to the head wound–and pressed his forehead against Deku’s.
“Listen, De–Izuku,” the nerd’s eyes shot wide at the use of his first name, a little squeak coming out of his throat, “You’re okay now, alright? I’ve got you. But you have to tell me what happened. How you… Who did this. Who hurt you. Okay?”
“K-Kacchan…” Deku’s voice was strangled, choked, like he’d screamed it raw. “It’s…”
He trailed off, sniffling. Katsuki let him sit in silence for some time and let the words come to him. It was strange to see Deku like this, so quiet, words failing him. Even when Katsuki was at his worst when it came to Deku, the nerd was always chattering away, like every thought just flowed out of his mouth and into the air without a care. Now, his lip was bitten red and bleeding, partially from a split lip, and partially from the deep grooves his teeth made in the pink flesh.
“It’s okay.” Deku finally said, his breath warm on Katsuki’s cheeks. “It was nothing.”
It took every bit of self control Katsuki had to not blow up, to not yell, to not pop off his quirk.
“This isn’t nothing ,” Katsuki hissed through clenched teeth. He picked up one of Deku’s skinny arms; half of its weight was in bandages. “ This is something. What the hell is happening?”
Deku ripped his arm back, clutching it to his chest. Suddenly, his eyes hardened and he leaned away. “Like you wouldn’t know, Kacchan.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean.”
Deku reached around Katsuki, scrambling for something within the piles of broken glass surrounding them.
“Oi!” he barked, trying to wrestle the nerd away from the shards. But the little fucker was slippery.
Deku slapped something against Katsuki’s chest.
“It’s what it always is,” he snapped, “ Nothing , to everyone. Just a useless, quirkless Deku. The butt of jokes, only good as a punching bag.”
Katsuki looked down to find one of the other notes. Pay to poke a quirkless
“They’re targeting you because of that shit?” Katsuki asked, hand shaking as he peeled the note off his tear-stained shirt.
“It didn’t stop just because you went off to be a hero, Kacchan.” Deku grumbled, rubbing at his face with the back of a hand. He winced when he pressed over the tender bruised flesh of his black eye. “It only got worse.”
Because I wasn’t there to stop it. To turn them all away. To protect you . The words jammed into his brain, clawed their way down and settled in his gut like a heavy weight. He looked up to meet Deku’s eyes, but he was looking anywhere but him. Hot tears pricked the corners of Katsuki’s eyes. He didn’t dare brush them away.
“De–Izuku.”
The nerd tensed at the sound of his name. “You don’t have to do that, Kacchan.”
“Yes, I do.” Katsuki murmured. “There’s so much I have to make up for.”
Deku finally looked at him, eyes wide and sad. He opened and closed his mouth like he wanted to say something, but he started to sway, eyes fluttering shut. It was like all the fight left him all at once. He slumped in Katsuki’s arms, fresh tears overflowing. Despite the hot night, Deku started shivering again.
Katsuki shuffled him in his grip and stood, legs wobbling. He didn’t make a sound as the pins and needles numbed his muscles. Deku didn’t move an inch. Katsuki grabbed the ugly ass red sneakers, hooking them over a finger so he didn’t have to jostle Deku as much.
And he walked away from that stupid alcove and that damn machine.
He kept Deku close to his chest, sure he could feel the rabbit fast pounding of his heart. Katsuki moved as fast as he could without hurting the nerd any more. Before long, he was cresting the hill to Heights Alliance, kicking open the front door.
The common room was busy that night, some stupid class wide movie night. Most of the class was gathered at the couches, laughing and chatting.
“Blasty!” Mina called from her perch on the arm chair. “What are–”
Her voice died at the sight of the boy in his arms. The whole room went silent. Katsuki didn’t acknowledge them or say anything. Just hid Deku’s face deeper in his chest and beelined for the boy’s bath.
“Bakugou! I insist you explain yourself!” Iida shouted, arm chopping the air.
He just glared in his direction with a scowl. Beside him, Momo gasped. He caught her eye.
“Ponytail…” he grumbled, not stopping for even a second. “Yaoyorozu.”
Everyone gathered caught their breaths, staring at Katsuki like he’d grown a second head.
“I need–”
“I know,” she said, lifting the hem of her shirt. Her skin glimmered as she produced clean bandages and medical supplies. “I’ll leave them outside the door for you. Go clean him up.”
Katsuki nodded, grunting his thanks. He kicked open the door to the baths, lowering Deku gently onto a stool. The nerd stirred, looking around blearily.
“Where…?”
Katsuki grabbed his shower stuff, coming back to kneel behind Deku. “Dorms. I’m gonna get you clean now, okay?”
Deku didn’t say anything else as Katsuki helped strip him to his boxers, gingerly unwrapping the soiled bandages. The state of the nerd’s arms were worse than he could have imagined. Pink scars, some old and some fresh, littered his skin from wrist to shoulder. It looked like Deku had gone through a wood chipper. Whoever did this to him had shown no mercy.
But some of the scars were a little too neat, a little too uniform. Criss crossing against his wrist, faded white lines buried under fresh cuts. Katsuki couldn’t find the words. He was no good at comforting, no good at easing pain.
He’d only ever caused it.
But he was trying. Fuck, he was trying so hard to change and be better .
Slowly, more gentle than he had ever been in his life, Katsuki cleaned Deku’s wounds, rinsing the dirt and grime from his limbs, lathered and washed his mop of curly green hair. All the while, Deku kept his eyes down, teeth in his lip. No muttering, nothing.
“Do you want to go in the bath?” Katsuki asked when he was finished cleaning the nerd. He wrapped his towel around Deku’s shoulders. “Before I bandage you again?”
Deku shook his head, still not looking at Katsuki.
“Sit here, I’ll be right back.”
Katsuki stood to grab the shit Ponytail had probably already left at the door. He was halted by crooked fingers clutching at his sleeve.
“I’m not going anywhere, Izu. Just getting the bandages, okay? I’m not leaving.”
Deku looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“I promise.” Katsuki said, running his fingers through damp curls.
Deku nodded, dropping his hand into his lap. His face was flushed pink and Katsuki had to force his gaze away.
Momo had placed a small basket of medical supplies against the door. Someone had grabbed a shirt and a pair of sweats from Katsuki’s room. Normally, he’d be pissed that someone went in there without his permission, but he just couldn’t care about anything except making Deku better.
He returned to find Deku slumped forward, eyes shut and breathing nasally. Doing his best to let the nerd sleep, Katsuki spread ointment on his cuts and bruises and wrapped each injury meticulously. He made sure to pay extra attention to the wounds he’d caused, where the glass shards had struck. Thankfully, nothing was stuck, just too many shallow cuts. He’d take him to Recovery Girl in the morning. Deku roused when Katsuki was gingerly lifting his arms into his black skull shirt.
“Need help with the pants?” Katsuki said, hoping his tone sounded light.
It didn’t.
Deku reached for the sweats, easing himself to standing. Leaning heavily against Katsuki’s shoulder, he slipped into the clear, dry clothes. Katsuki grabbed his dirty shit and held an arm out to help steady the boy.
“C’mon, let’s get you to bed. Auntie know you’re here?”
Deku bit his lip again.
“Quit it, I just made you stop bleeding.” Katsuki grumbled.
“Sorry,” Deku mumbled.
“Need to call Auntie or what?”
“Um…”
He did not like the look that took over Deku’s face.
“Mom’s… not here.”
“She at work?”
Deku shook his head. “No. She’s, uh… she went to Dad’s.”
Katsuki nearly tripped over his own two feet. “The fuck? In America? ”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“Uh… just before the new term.”
“Deku. What the fuck.”
Deku shrugged. “It’s been okay. Don’t have to hide the bruises when I get home anymore, at least.”
“Are you… Are you living alone? At the apartment?”
Deku didn’t respond, and that set Katsuki on edge. He grit his teeth, willing himself to not freak out over where the fuck Deku had been living all this time. No wonder he looked like death warmed over.
Katsuki sighed, leading Deku out of the baths and towards the back stairwell. The last thing they needed was to face his nosy classmates.
“Fine. I’m not calling international. Shit’s expensive. Need to call someone or what?”
“N-No. No one.” Deku muttered.
Katsuki grumbled. “You’ll stay here tonight. I’ll probably have to talk to Aizawa tomorrow, if Glasses hasn’t already called him.”
Deku just nodded his assent. They climbed the stairs slowly, Deku leaning more and more heavily on him as they went. Katsuki was practically dragging him to his room by the time they made it to the fourth floor.
Thankfully, no one was posted outside his door. Hopefully calling Ponytail by name was enough to deter any of them from bothering him about this right now.
He led Deku inside, lowering him to his bed. He took a moment to look over the boy, taking in his tired face and just how tiny he looked in Katsuki’s clothes. Fuck, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go hunt down those assholes that did this to him or if he wanted to cry. Fuck, looks like it would be the second one.
Katsuki dragged a hand through his spikes. Before Deku could say anything or move, Katsuki knelt before him, hands on Deku’s knees. Deku stiffened, clearly confused.
“Izuku,” Katsuki said, voice gruff. “I don’t know exactly what happened, or what you’ve been through. But from now on, it won’t happen again, got it?”
Deku watched him, mouth dropping open into a little ‘o’.
“From now on, I got your back. I’ll make sure you’re safe. And you have a place to sleep and food to eat, okay?”
Katsuki pressed his face into Deku’s bony stomach and breathed deeply.
“And Izu… I’m so sorry,” he felt the tears finally break free of his lash line. “I’m so sorry for everything I ever did to you. For hurting you. For pushing you away. I’m sorry for–” his voice cracked but he forced himself to keep going, forced himself to look up. “–for not being there for you. I was an asshole, the worst kind of person. You never deserved any of it.”
Deku just watched him, silent. Burying his teeth into his bottom lip.
“I know I’ll never be able to make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, or even your attention. I just want you to know how sorry I am. I-I realized I could never call myself a hero if I let that shit stand. I’m… I’m not a good person, but I’m trying to be better. For you.”
Deku’s crying again, quietly this time, the tears just falling and falling endlessly. Katsuki forced his eyes closed so he didn’t have to see the anger and pain coming. He deserved to be punched in the face, told to fuck off, leave him alone. Instead, he felt a clammy hand caress his cheek with a featherlight touch.
“Oh, Kacchan…” Deku warbled. “I forgive you.”
Katsuki bit back a sob. It came out as a strangled cry.
“And you might not have been good in the past, but I see you now. And you are a good person. You’re my hero.”
Katsuki opened his eyes at that, incredulous. He climbed up onto the bed, pulling Deku into his arms, situating them so they were leaning against the wall. Katsuki wrapped his arms around Deku, squeezing him as if he could tuck the boy into his breast, under his pounding heart, keep him safe and protected between his rib bones.
“I’m sorry, Izu.” Katsuki pressed his forehead to Deku’s again, hoping to convey everything he felt in that one touch.
He gave him a little smile. “I know. Thank you for saving me, Kacchan. I always hoped you would.”
Katsuki swallowed hard and clutched the nerd tighter to him, pressing his lips to the crown of his head, breathing in the smell of his own shampoo in that beautiful curly hair. “I swear I’ll always be there from now on. I’ll keep you safe, promise.”