Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The clock ticked quietly in the corner of Katsuki Bakugou’s modest apartment, each second dragging as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in hues of orange and pink. The smell of leftover curry hung faintly in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of cleaning supplies Katsuki had haphazardly used to wipe down the counters that morning. The apartment was tidy but lived-in, the kind of place where two decades of hero work could be forgotten, if only for a moment.

“Oi, nerd, pass the remote,” Katsuki barked, leaning back on his couch. His casual tone carried the weight of familiarity, something Izuku Midoriya had grown used to over the years.

Izuku grinned, tossing the remote with a little too much force, making Katsuki catch it with a sharp glare.

“Careful,” Katsuki muttered, but there was no heat in his voice. He flipped the channel to the evening news, their usual background noise. It had become a routine for them—hanging out after work, decompressing from the grind of hero life.

Izuku’s leg bounced nervously. He wasn’t even paying attention to the screen. He’d been running over the words in his head all day, trying to find the best way to break the news. But now, sitting here, in the comfort of Katsuki’s presence, the task seemed monumental.

“So, uh, Kacchan,” Izuku started, his voice just shy of trembling. Katsuki’s crimson eyes flicked to him for a second before returning to the screen.

“What?” Katsuki asked, his tone curt but not unkind.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Izuku said, clasping his hands together tightly. His palms were sweating, and he could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Spit it out already, Deku. I’m not a mind reader.” Katsuki glanced at him again, catching the hesitation in Izuku’s expression. He frowned but didn’t press further.

Izuku swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I… I’m going to propose to Ochako.”

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. For a moment, the only sound was the faint buzz of the television. Katsuki’s fingers tightened around the remote, his knuckles turning white.

“What?” Katsuki finally said, his voice low and disbelieving.

Izuku forced a nervous smile. “Yeah, I… I think it’s time, you know? We’ve been together for a while now, and she’s… she’s amazing. She’s kind and strong and…” He trailed off, realizing he was rambling.

Katsuki’s jaw clenched, the muscle ticking as he stared at the screen without really seeing it. He let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing as he turned the remote over in his hands. “You’re serious,” he said, more statement than question.

Izuku nodded, hesitating. “Yeah, I… I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I bought a ring and everything.” He let out a shaky laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. “I’m just… I’m nervous about asking her, you know?”

Katsuki’s grip on the remote tightened, the plastic creaking faintly. “You’re nervous,” he echoed, his tone flat. His eyes bore into Izuku’s, and for a moment, the room felt unbearably small. “After everything, you’re just gonna tie yourself down like that?”

Izuku’s brow furrowed. “Kacchan, what do you mean?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Katsuki snapped, standing abruptly. The remote clattered onto the couch, forgotten. “Eight years, Deku. Eight damn years of this. All the shit we’ve been through, the times I’ve dragged your sorry ass out of the fire. And now you’re gonna throw it all away for some… some fantasy?”

Izuku’s breath hitched. “Kacchan, it’s not like that. I… I’m not throwing anything away. Ochako and I, we…”

“Don’t,” Katsuki interrupted, his voice low and sharp. He turned away, pacing to the window. “You… You’ve always been like this. Always chasing after some dream, never thinking about what’s right in front of you.”

Izuku stood, his hands clenched at his sides. “That’s not fair, Kacchan. You know I care about you. You’ve always been important to me, but this… this is different.”

Katsuki turned back to him, his eyes blazing with an emotion Izuku couldn’t quite name. “Different? You think I’ve spent all this time sticking my neck out for you because of what? For this to be casual?” His voice cracked, raw and unsteady. “You’re such a damn idiot, Deku.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, Izuku didn’t know how to respond. His heart ached, caught between the man standing before him and the life he thought he wanted to build with Ochako.

“Kacchan, I…” Izuku began, "I didn't know..." but Katsuki cut him off with a sharp gesture.

“Didn't know?” Katsuki said, his voice breaking, "Right, okay." He took a breath, “Get out of here before I say something I can’t take back.”

Izuku hesitated, his feet rooted to the floor. “Kacchan, please…”

“Go!” Katsuki roared, his hands trembling at his sides. He turned his back to Izuku, staring out at the city beyond the window. “Just… just leave.”

Izuku lingered, his heart heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he turned and made his way to the door. As he stepped out into the hallway, he paused, looking back one last time.

“I… I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said softly.

Katsuki didn’t respond. He stood rigid, his silhouette framed by the dim city lights. With a heavy sigh, Izuku closed the door behind him, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway.

Inside, Katsuki sank onto the couch, his hands covering his face as he let out a shaky breath. For the first time in years, he felt truly alone.

Katsuki didn’t move for a long time, the silence of his apartment pressing down on him. His chest ached in a way that felt unbearable, and he hated it. Hated how raw and exposed he felt. After what seemed like hours, he forced himself to his feet and grabbed his phone, his fingers hovering over the screen before he finally tapped on a familiar name.

It rang twice before Eijirou Kirishima’s cheerful voice came through the line. “Bakugou! What’s up, man?”

Katsuki swallowed hard, his throat tight. “I need a drink. You free?”

There was a brief pause. “Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“Just meet me at the usual place,” Katsuki muttered before hanging up.

The bar was quiet, the kind of place they used to go to after missions back in the early days. Katsuki spotted Kirishima immediately, his bright red hair impossible to miss. He was already nursing a beer, his expression soft with concern when Katsuki slid into the seat across from him.

“Hey,” Kirishima said, setting his drink down. “You look like crap. What’s going on?”

Katsuki leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, frustrated. Finally, he grabbed the beer the bartender had just set down in front of him and took a long sip.

Kirishima waited, his patience unwavering. “Take your time, man.”

“Deku,” Katsuki finally said, setting the glass down with a thud. “He… he’s gonna marry her.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened. “Ochako? Wow, that’s… I mean, that’s great, right? Isn’t it?”

Katsuki’s glare could have melted steel. “No, it’s not fucking great.”

“Okay,” Kirishima said cautiously, leaning forward. “Why not?”

“Because he’s a goddamn idiot,” Katsuki snapped. “He’s chasing some perfect little fairy tale, and he doesn’t even see what he’s…” He stopped himself, his fists clenching on the table.

“What he’s what?” Kirishima prompted gently.

Katsuki’s jaw tightened, and he stared down at the table. “What he’s leaving behind,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Kirishima tilted his head, studying his friend carefully. “Bakugou… are you saying you…?”

“No,” Katsuki snapped, then sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. Damn it, Eijirou, I don’t fucking know.”

Kirishima’s expression softened further, and he reached out, resting a hand on Katsuki’s forearm. “It’s okay, man. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. But you can’t keep this bottled up. Talk to him.”

“Yeah, like that’ll go well,” Katsuki said bitterly. “He’s too busy playing house to give a damn.”

“You don’t know that,” Kirishima said firmly. “You guys have been through too much together to just… let this fester. You owe it to yourself to at least try.”

Katsuki let out a bitter laugh. “Try what? Tell him I… I don’t even know what the hell I’d say.”

“Start with how you feel,” Kirishima said. “Be honest. If anyone can handle it, it’s Midoriya.”

Katsuki stared at him for a long moment, then sighed heavily. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Kirishima asked, leaning in slightly. His voice was steady, but his eyes were filled with genuine concern.

Katsuki scoffed, shaking his head. “Because we’ve never even talked about feelings, Eijirou. Not once. What the hell am I supposed to say? ‘Oh, hey, Deku, by the way, I…’? It’s bullshit.”

Kirishima frowned but didn’t interrupt. Katsuki took another swig of his beer, slamming the glass down harder than necessary.

“I mean, I knew he was seeing her. It’s not like this came out of nowhere,” Katsuki admitted, his voice quieter now. “But I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that it was just for the press or something. You know how much the media eats up their stupid perfect image. But he…” Katsuki’s voice faltered, and he looked away. “He spent more time with me than her anyway. So maybe I read it all wrong.”

Kirishima’s eyes softened. “You really think he doesn’t care about you?”

Katsuki let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I’m the idiot here, not him. I let myself think…” He stopped, gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. “I let myself think there was something more. That maybe… maybe he was just with her for the press, you know? All that hero PR bullshit they eat up. He spent more time with me than her anyway, so I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Guess I read it all wrong.”

He exhaled sharply, the bitterness in his laugh returning. “What kind of dumbass does that make me, huh? Thinking I was any different. Thinking I…” He trailed off again, shaking his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Kirishima frowned, his hand still resting on Katsuki’s forearm. “It does matter. You’re not an idiot, Bakugou. You just… you care about him. That’s not something you need to beat yourself up for.”

Katsuki scoffed, yanking his arm back. “Don’t give me that sappy crap, Eijirou.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Just… make me feel something else. Anything other than this shit right now.”

Kirishima studied him for a moment before leaning back as well, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Alright, how about this: remember that time you almost blew up your own locker in first year because you forgot you had a live grenade in there?”

Katsuki blinked, his frown momentarily faltering. “I didn’t forget, dumbass. It was… it was a test.”

Kirishima burst out laughing, loud and genuine, the sound drawing a reluctant smirk from Katsuki. “A test? For who? Yourself? To see if you could survive your own stupidity?”

“Shut up,” Katsuki muttered, but there was no bite in his tone.

“No way, man. That was one of the best things I’ve ever seen,” Kirishima said, wiping at his eyes. “And don’t even get me started on the look on Aizawa’s face. I thought his scarf was going to strangle you on its own.”

Katsuki snorted, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. For a brief moment, he wasn’t thinking about the way his stomach churned or the bitter, acidic taste in his mouth, or the pit that felt endless in his gut. He shook his head, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re such an idiot, Eijirou,” he said, though there was no malice in his voice.

Kirishima grinned, lifting his glass. “Takes one to know one, man.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but clinked his glass against Kirishima’s. For the first time that night, the knot in his chest loosened, even if only slightly. 

Chapter Text

Izuku Midoriya walked briskly through the bustling streets of Musutafu, the city’s lights shimmering around him. Despite the liveliness of the evening, his mind was far from the energy of the crowds. His hands, stuffed deep in his jacket pockets, tightened into fists as he replayed the events of the past hour.

Kacchan’s reaction had been… unexpected. Izuku had prepared himself for a range of responses—sarcasm, mockery, maybe even indifference. But the raw anger, the way Katsuki’s voice had cracked under the weight of something unspoken… that had left Izuku reeling.

The box in his pocket felt heavier now. He reached for it reflexively, his fingers brushing against the velvet surface. The engagement ring had taken weeks to choose. Every detail, from the cut of the diamond to the delicate gold band, had been selected with Ochako in mind. She deserved perfection. And yet, the weight of it felt more like a chain than a promise.

He stopped at a crosswalk, the red light reflecting off his downcast eyes. The crowd swarmed around him, a cacophony of chatter and footsteps. Izuku felt oddly disconnected, like he was watching himself from a distance.

“You’ve always been like this. Always chasing after some dream, never thinking about what’s right in front of you.”

Kacchan’s words echoed in his mind, sharp and unforgiving. Izuku shook his head as if to physically dislodge them. He pressed forward as the light turned green, letting the flow of the crowd carry him.

When he finally reached the quiet sanctuary of his apartment, Izuku let out a long breath. The space was neat and minimalist, a reflection of the balance he constantly strived for in his chaotic life. His desk was piled with reports from his latest patrols, the neatly stacked files a testament to his tireless work ethic.

He dropped his bag by the door and headed straight to the kitchen. A mug of tea would help him think. As he waited for the kettle to boil, his phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at the screen: a message from Ochako.

Ochako: “Hey! Don’t forget, my parents are visiting this weekend. They’re looking forward to seeing you! 😉”

Izuku’s chest tightened. He stared at the message, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. After a moment, he typed back a quick response.

Izuku: “Of course! Can’t wait.”

He set the phone down, his reflection in the dark screen staring back at him. Ochako’s excitement should have filled him with warmth. Instead, it only deepened the unease curling in his stomach.

The kettle whistled, pulling him from his thoughts. He poured the water, watching as the tea leaves unfurled in the mug. The simplicity of the moment grounded him, if only for a second.

Izuku sat on the couch, the mug cradled in his hands. His mind wandered back to the years he and Katsuki had spent together after UA. Their bond had been forged in the crucible of battle and hardship, each moment a testament to their unspoken understanding. They had never needed words to convey what mattered most.

Or so he had thought.

Kacchan’s words had struck a nerve, one Izuku hadn’t even realized was exposed. Was he really so blind to the things closest to him? Was he chasing a dream without considering what he might be leaving behind?

The knock at the door startled him. Izuku stood, setting the mug down as he moved to answer it. When he opened the door, he was greeted by Shoto Todoroki’s calm, even gaze.

“Shoto?” Izuku blinked, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw your location said you were home,” Shoto said simply, holding up a bag. “Figured I’d drop by with some dinner. You’ve been working late a lot.”

Izuku blinked, then remembered. Years ago, during their early hero days, a handful of their old classmates had shared their locations with one another. It had been a precaution, a way to ease each other’s minds given the dangers of hero work. The habit had stuck, though most of them rarely thought about it anymore.

Izuku stepped aside, letting him in. “Thanks. That’s… really thoughtful of you.”

Shoto placed the bag on the counter and began unpacking it. “You look like you’ve been thinking too much again. What happened?”

Izuku hesitated. Shoto’s bluntness was both a curse and a blessing. He had a way of cutting straight to the heart of things, leaving no room for evasion.

“It’s nothing,” Izuku said, but Shoto’s raised eyebrow told him that wasn’t going to fly.

“If it’s enough to make you look like this, it’s not nothing,” Shoto said. He handed Izuku a pair of chopsticks and gestured for him to sit. “Start from the beginning.”

Izuku sighed, sitting down at the small dining table. As they ate, he recounted the conversation with Katsuki, the weight of the engagement ring in his pocket, and the growing uncertainty that gnawed at him.

Shoto listened intently, his expression thoughtful. When Izuku finally finished, the silence stretched between them.

“You’re overthinking it,” Shoto said at last. “But that’s not unusual for you.”

Izuku frowned. “I don’t think I am. Kacchan was… he seemed genuinely upset. Like I was making some huge mistake.”

Shoto’s gaze was steady. “Do you think you are?”

The question hit harder than Izuku expected. He stared down at his food, the answer refusing to come easily.

“I love Ochako,” he said finally. “She’s… she’s everything I thought I wanted.”

“But?” Shoto prompted.

Izuku’s shoulders slumped. “But I don’t know if I’m doing this for the right reasons. Or if I… if I’m ignoring something important.”

Shoto leaned back, his expression pensive. “Katsuki isn’t the type to hold back. If he reacted the way you described, it’s because he felt strongly about it. You should talk to him again.”

Izuku shook his head. “I don’t think he’d want to. He basically threw me out.”

“All the more reason to try,” Shoto said. “Whatever this is, it’s obviously affecting both of you. Ignoring it won’t help.”

Izuku sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know what I’d say. Kacchan’s not exactly easy to talk to about this kind of thing.”

Shoto’s lips quirked in the faintest hint of a smile. “Neither are you.”

Izuku chuckled despite himself. “Fair point.”

They finished their meal in companionable silence, though Shoto seemed to be mulling something over. As he stood to leave, he paused by Izuku’s side, a hand resting on his shoulder.

“You’ll figure it out,” Shoto said, his voice calm. “But, Izuku, you’ve let Katsuki’s opinions dictate so much of your life already. You’re allowed to make your own choices without his input.”

Izuku blinked, taken aback. “I… It’s not like that. I just… respect him. And he usually knows what’s best.”

Shoto’s lips quirked in that subtle way Izuku recognized as a wry smile. “Respect is one thing, but you’re the one living your life. Katsuki’s not going to have to live with your choices… you are. If proposing to Ochako feels right to you, then do it. Don’t let anyone, even your best friend, decide that for you.”

The words hit Izuku harder than he expected, forcing him to confront the quiet truth he’d been avoiding. Had he been relying on Katsuki’s opinions as a crutch?

Shoto gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading to the door. “Just think about it,” he said as he opened it. “You’ll figure it out.”

Izuku nodded, his resolve hardening. “Thanks, Shoto. For everything.”

As the door closed behind him, Izuku sat back down on the couch, the weight in his pocket a constant reminder of the choice he needed to make. This time, he wasn’t going to avoid it. He had to face it head-on, no matter how terrifying it felt.

Because if there was one thing he had learned from Katsuki Bakugou, it was that running away wasn’t an option.

The next morning, Izuku rose early, his alarm cutting through the quiet of his apartment. Today wasn’t a hero day; it was a teaching day. After a quick shower and a piece of toast grabbed on his way out the door, he found himself walking toward UA High School, the morning light casting a golden hue over the familiar campus.

Stepping into his classroom, Izuku took a deep breath. The space was his haven on these days—clean rows of desks, a whiteboard that still bore the remnants of yesterday’s lecture, and posters of All Might on the walls. Despite the weight in his chest, he managed a smile. His students were bright, eager, and endlessly curious. They reminded him of himself in his UA days.

The first period began with a lesson on crisis management. Izuku walked his students through the steps of assessing a dangerous situation, his voice steady and calm as he answered their questions. When one of his students, a girl with a bird-like quirk, raised her hand to ask about dealing with high winds during a rescue, Izuku grinned and demonstrated using a small fan as a visual aid.

The hours passed quickly, filled with laughter and the occasional explosion from one of the more excitable students practicing their quirks. By the time the final bell rang, Izuku was both exhausted and fulfilled. He waved goodbye to his last student and began tidying up the classroom.

As the quiet settled in, the paperwork loomed. Izuku sighed, pulling a stack of tests from his desk drawer. He got to work grading, his green eyes scanning each page with care. But his focus wavered, and his gaze kept drifting to the window. Normally, Katsuki would show up on days like this. Without fail, he’d bang on the glass with that characteristic scowl and drag Izuku out for food or sparring. It had become their routine.

But today, the window remained empty.

Izuku’s chest tightened. Had something happened on patrol? Or was Katsuki really this upset with him? The thought left an ache he couldn’t shake. Kacchan was his best friend. Did he disapprove of Izuku marrying Ochako that much?

He shook his head, trying to refocus on the papers in front of him, but his mind refused to settle. Before he could spiral too far into his thoughts, a familiar sound broke the silence—the soft creak of the window opening.

Izuku’s heart jumped, and he turned toward the sound. Sure enough, Katsuki was there, perched on the windowsill like he owned the place, his crimson eyes sharp and unreadable.

“Took you long enough,” Izuku said, his voice softer than he intended.

Katsuki smirked faintly but didn’t move from his spot. “Thought I’d give you some space, nerd. Looked like you needed it yesterday.”

Izuku set his pen down, folding his hands on the desk. “I… I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Katsuki said, climbing inside. He shut the window behind him and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “What, you think I’d just bail on you?”

Izuku shrugged, his gaze dropping to the desk. “I wasn’t sure what to think after yesterday. You seemed pretty upset.”

Katsuki’s expression darkened slightly, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he let out a sharp exhale and pushed off the wall. “Yeah, well… I’m here, aren’t I?”

Izuku looked up, meeting his friend’s gaze. There was something unspoken lingering between them, and for once, Katsuki didn’t look like he was in a rush to break it with his usual sharp words.

“Kacchan,” Izuku began hesitantly, his voice low, “are you really that upset about me marrying Ochako?”

Katsuki’s expression faltered for a split second, a flicker of emotion crossing his face before it vanished, leaving his features unreadable. He let out a short, bitter laugh and leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms.

“I overreacted yesterday,” he said finally. “It caught me off guard, alright?” He glanced at the window, avoiding Izuku’s gaze. “I didn’t realize it was that serious between you two.”

Izuku frowned. “What do you mean? We’ve been together for years.”

Katsuki snorted. “Yeah, I know. But I thought… I don’t know, maybe it was just for PR or something.” He finally turned to face Izuku, his crimson eyes sharp. “Is that why you’re doing this? For PR?”

Izuku’s mouth fell open, his expression a mix of shock and offense. “What? Of course not! Kacchan, I wouldn’t make a decision like this for PR. I've been with her for a long time, this just seems like the most logical next step.”

“Is that why then?” Katsuki pressed, his tone challenging. “You said it yourself—you’ve been with her for years. Are you doing it because you actually want to? Or because you feel obligated to?”

The question hung in the air, and Izuku’s throat tightened. He searched for the answer, but the truth felt slippery, just out of reach. “Both?” he said finally, though it came out more like a question than an answer.

Katsuki’s gaze hardened, and he let out a low growl of frustration. "I just...don't want you to make a decision you're going to regret."

"And you think I'll regret doing this?" Izuku asked as if he was digging for a truth he knew he wouldn't get.

Katsuki shrugged, choosing not to say what he really wanted to, which was, "Fucking yes, you idiot."

Instead, he changed the subject, his tone gruff. "I’m starving. You almost done here? I need food."

Izuku blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. He hesitated, glancing down at the stack of unfinished tests on his desk before looking back at Katsuki. "Uh, yeah, I guess I can finish these later."

"Thank God," Katsuki said, already heading toward the door. "Come on, nerd, let’s go."

Izuku smiled faintly, the tension easing slightly as he followed Katsuki out of the classroom. The unspoken words still lingered, but for now, he was grateful for the distraction. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki Bakugou groaned as his alarm blared, the shrill sound grating against the dull ache in his head. He slammed a hand onto the clock, silencing it with a grunt before dragging himself out of bed. The faint light filtering through his curtains told him it was early, too early for how much he’d drunk with Eijirou the night before. He rubbed at his temples and stumbled to the kitchen, where he chugged a glass of water and popped a painkiller. Another day, another patrol.

By the time he stepped out of his apartment, his uniform freshly pressed and his boots laced, Katsuki felt slightly more human. The crisp morning air hit his face as he made his way to the agency, the routine almost comforting. Yet, the pit in his stomach from the night before remained.

Izuku’s getting married.

The thought lingered like a bad taste. It wasn’t just the idea of Izuku marrying Ochako that gnawed at him. It was the way Izuku had said it—like it was not a big deal, not something he genuinely wanted, but more like something he had to do. Katsuki shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away as he reached the agency.

Patrol was slow. Katsuki hated slow days. They dragged on, filled with more public service requests than villain encounters. He spent the morning helping a grandmother whose shopping cart had overturned and directing traffic around a minor accident. None of it was bad, per se, but it wasn’t the kind of work that made his blood pump.

As he waved a final car past the accident site, his mind drifted back to the night before. Eijirou’s words echoed faintly in his head: "Talk to him. Be honest with yourself." Katsuki scoffed under his breath. Easier said than done. What the hell was he even supposed to say? "Hey, Deku, don’t marry her because I…" He stopped the thought before it could form fully.

It was stupid. He was being stupid. But that didn’t stop the unease from curling in his gut.

The afternoon stretched into evening, and the streets grew quieter. Katsuki checked his watch, noting the time. Tuesday. Teaching day for Izuku. Normally, he’d head to UA after patrol, swinging by Izuku’s classroom to drag him out for food or a sparring match. The thought brought a faint smirk to his lips—Izuku always looked like he needed saving from his mountain of paperwork.

But tonight felt different.

Katsuki hesitated at a crosswalk, his feet rooted to the spot. Part of him wanted to skip it entirely, to avoid the awkwardness that had settled between them after yesterday. It felt… weird now. Like the balance they’d maintained for years had shifted. He cursed under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets and crossing the street.

By the time he reached UA, the halls were mostly empty. The faint hum of lights and the distant sound of cleaning staff filled the silence as he made his way to Izuku’s classroom. He still didn't know if he wanted to pop in. But this was routine at this point. He looked down at his phone, he was later than usual. Katsuki quietly made his way to Izuku's classroom, stopping outside the door, peering through the small door window. Sure enough, Izuku was inside, hunched over his desk with a stack of papers in front of him. Katsuki rolled his eyes. Nerd.

He then noticed how Izuku kept glancing at the window where he normally made his appearances. Was he...waiting for him? Katsuki felt a pang of guilt for not being on time, he turned and left the building to head up to the side of the building. 

He climbed the tree next to the building and opened the window, climbing inside with practiced ease. Izuku looked up, startled, before his expression softened.

“Took you long enough,” Izuku said, his voice quieter than usual.

Katsuki smirked faintly, though his chest tightened at the lingering uncertainty in Izuku’s gaze. “Thought I’d give you some space, nerd. Looked like you needed it yesterday.”

Izuku set his pen down, folding his hands on the desk. “I… I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Katsuki said, climbing fully inside. He shut the window behind him and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “What, you think I’d just bail on you?” Katsuki swallowed the knot in his throat... he almost did bail on him. 

Izuku shrugged, his gaze dropping back to the desk. “I wasn’t sure what to think after yesterday. You seemed pretty upset.”

Katsuki let out a sharp exhale, ruffling his hair. “Yeah, well… I’m here, aren’t I?”

The room fell quiet, the unspoken tension thick between them. Katsuki hated it, hated how it felt like something fragile and unsteady had crept into the space they’d built over the years. He'd worked too damn hard for this to be how he and Izuku crashed and burned. His mind raced thinking of something to say to break the silence, but Izuku beat him to it. 

“Kacchan,” Izuku said finally, his voice hesitant, “are you really that upset about me marrying Ochako?”

Katsuki’s chest tightened, the words sticking in his throat. For a moment, he considered telling the truth. Yes, you dumbass, you don't love her. But the vulnerability felt too raw, too exposed. Instead, he shrugged, masking his unease with a sigh.

“I overreacted yesterday,” he said, his tone gruff. “It caught me off guard, alright? Didn’t realize it was that serious between you two.” That was partially the truth wasn't it? 

Izuku frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “What do you mean? We’ve been together for years.”

“Yeah, I know,” Katsuki said, rolling his eyes. “But I thought… I don’t know, maybe it was just for PR or something.” He leaned forward, his crimson gaze sharp. “Is that why you’re doing this? For PR?”

Please say yes. Please. Please. 

Izuku’s jaw dropped, his expression a mix of shock and offense. “What? Of course not! Kacchan, I wouldn’t make a decision like this for PR. I’ve been with her for a long time. This just… seems like the logical next step.”

God, he wanted to throw up. 

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Logical, huh? So, are you doing it because you want to? Or because you feel obligated to?”

Izuku’s throat worked as he struggled for an answer. “Both?” he said finally, the word sounding more like a question than an answer. 

He doesn't know...

Katsuki’s lips pressed into a thin line. He needed to change the subject before his emotions took him over again. He let out a low growl of frustration before pushing off the wall. “I’m starving. You almost done here? I need food.”

Izuku blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. He glanced down at the papers on his desk before nodding. “Uh, yeah, I guess I can finish these later.”

“Thank God,” Katsuki said, already heading toward the door. “Come on, nerd. Let’s go.”

Katsuki shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked, his stomach still twisted in knots. He hated that he’d let the conversation get to this point, hated that the tension was still suffocating him. As much as he tried to focus on getting food, the unspoken words between them felt like a weight dragging him down. But at least Izuku was smiling now, faint though it was. Katsuki clung to that small comfort, telling himself it was enough to get through the rest of the night without falling apart completely.

Dinner was… fine, Katsuki supposed. They’d fallen into a rhythm of casual conversation, though nothing about being with Izuku ever truly felt casual. Every glance, every laugh, every stupid habit of his had a way of clawing at Katsuki’s carefully constructed defenses. He shoved those thoughts down quickly, focusing on his food instead.

“Thanks for dragging me out of the classroom,” Izuku said suddenly, breaking the silence. His green eyes were soft, though Katsuki could see the lingering uncertainty in them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki muttered, stabbing a piece of meat with his chopsticks. “You’d starve otherwise, nerd. You don't know how to take a break."

Izuku chuckled, the sound easing the tension in the air. For a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.

But then the dreaded topic reappeared, crashing into their fragile peace like a wrecking ball.

“Kacchan,” Izuku began, hesitant. “Will you be my best man?”

Katsuki froze mid-bite, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. His chopsticks hovered in the air as he stared at Izuku, unsure if he’d heard correctly.

“You… haven’t even asked her yet,” Katsuki mumbled, his voice rougher than he intended.

Izuku laughed, the sound light but genuine. “I know. But I also know I want you up there with me.”

Katsuki’s chest tightened, the conflicting emotions swirling inside him almost unbearable. He wanted to say no, wanted to tell Izuku that this was insane, that he couldn’t possibly stand there and watch him marry someone else. But the way Izuku was looking at him—hopeful, trusting—made it impossible to refuse.

“Yeah,” Katsuki said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Whatever, nerd."

Izuku beamed, and Katsuki looked away, shoving another bite of food into his mouth to hide the way his throat tightened, how his eyes burned. He told himself it was enough, that being by Izuku’s side was enough. Even if it wasn’t.

Chapter Text

The weekend had arrived, and Izuku Midoriya found himself pacing the stone path of the city gardens. The early evening light cast a golden glow over the blooming flowers and winding trails, a picturesque backdrop for what he hoped would be one of the most important moments of his life.

Everything was in place. The small clearing near the center of the gardens was adorned with clusters of Ochako’s favorite flowers—pink and white hydrangeas—arranged meticulously in vases and woven into the surrounding foliage. A simple but elegant wooden sign rested on an easel behind him, hand-painted in soft script that read, "Will you marry me?"

Tsuyu Asui crouched behind a nearby bush, her camera ready. She’d agreed without hesitation when Izuku asked for her help. As Ochako’s best friend, there was no way she’d miss being part of this moment, even if it meant hiding out to capture the perfect shot.

Ochako thought they were just meeting for dinner with her parents. She had no idea that this was anything more than a casual evening out. Izuku’s nerves were on edge as he ran through the plan one last time in his head. Her parents were in on it, of course, and they’d been more than willing to play along.

The sound of footsteps pulled Izuku’s attention to the garden entrance. Ochako’s parents appeared first, walking a few paces ahead of their daughter. And then there she was, her soft brown hair catching the evening light as she rounded the corner, her eyes scanning the area with a curious smile. She wore a simple, flowing dress in pastel pink that complemented the warmth of the garden, and she looked radiant.

Izuku’s breath caught in his throat.

Ochako paused, her brows knitting together slightly when she noticed the floral arrangements ahead. Her parents slowed their pace, giving her space to take in the sight. As her gaze settled on Izuku, kneeling on one knee in the clearing, her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Izuku…?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, his heart pounding in his chest. In his hand, he held a small velvet box, the ring inside catching the light. He took a steadying breath and began.

“Ochako,” he said, his voice strong despite the swirl of emotions in his chest, “from the moment we met at UA, you’ve been a source of strength and inspiration for me. You’re kind, brave, and endlessly determined. Being with you has made me a better person and a better hero. I can’t imagine my life without you by my side.”

Ochako’s eyes filled with tears, her hands trembling as they hovered near her face.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Izuku continued, his voice softer now. “Will you marry me?”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves and the faint chirp of birds settling for the evening. Then, with a sob of joy, Ochako nodded vigorously.

“Yes! Of course, yes!” she said, her voice breaking with emotion as she moved toward him.

Izuku’s heart soared as he slid the ring onto her finger, the gold band fitting perfectly. He stood, barely managing to steady himself before Ochako threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. The clearing erupted in applause as her parents stepped closer, beaming with pride, and Tsuyu emerged from her hiding spot, snapping candid photos of the couple.

“I knew something was up!” Ochako laughed through her tears as she pulled back to look at Izuku. “You were so nervous earlier this week, but I didn’t think it was because of this!”

Izuku chuckled, his cheeks flushed. “I wanted it to be perfect,” he admitted. “And I couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help.”

Tsuyu handed her camera to Ochako’s parents so they could join in the impromptu photoshoot. “I got some great shots,” she said with a smile. “You two look adorable.”

Ochako blushed, admiring the ring on her finger. “It’s beautiful, Izuku. Thank you.”

He took her hands in his, his heart full. “You’re beautiful. I’m just glad you said yes.”

She laughed, standing on her toes to kiss him softly. “How could I not?”

As the group left the gardens to head to the restaurant where the engagement party awaited, Izuku felt a sense of calm settle over him. The nerves and planning had been worth it. Tonight, they celebrated not just their engagement but the beginning of a new chapter together. And as they walked hand in hand, surrounded by friends and family, Izuku allowed himself to savor the moment, knowing that this was just the start of their story.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Ochako gasped in delight. The private dining room was filled with their friends and old classmates, all of them standing and cheering as the couple walked in. Streamers and balloons in soft pinks and greens adorned the space, and a large banner reading "Congratulations, Izuku and Ochako!" hung across the back wall.

The girls were the first to swarm Ochako. Mina, Kyoka, and Momo all hugged her in turn, their voices blending together in excited chatter.

“Let me see the ring!” Mina squealed, grabbing Ochako’s hand and inspecting it with wide eyes. “It’s gorgeous!”

“How did he propose?” Momo asked, her tone warm and curious.

Kyoka nudged Tsuyu. “You were there, weren’t you? Did you get pictures?”

Tsuyu grinned, holding up her phone. “I got pictures and video. Want to see?”

The girls crowded around, squealing with delight as they watched the footage. Ochako’s cheeks were bright pink, but her smile was radiant as she answered their questions, soaking in the love and excitement from her friends.

Meanwhile, Izuku found himself surrounded by the guys. Shoto was the first to greet him, his expression calm but his handshake firm.

“Congratulations, Izuku,” Shoto said, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “You planned this well. She looks really happy.”

“Thanks, Shoto,” Izuku replied, his voice filled with gratitude.

Kirishima clapped him on the back with enough force to make him stumble slightly. “Man, you did great! That’s how you treat a lady, bro. Congrats!”

“Thanks, Kirishima,” Izuku said with a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

Denki popped up next, his grin wide. “Dude, you really set the bar high for the rest of us. No pressure or anything.”

Izuku laughed, feeling a little overwhelmed but happy. His gaze swept the room, landing on Katsuki, who stood near the edge of the crowd, a champagne flute in hand. Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away.

Katsuki gave him a small nod, his expression unreadable as he took a sip of his champagne. Izuku nodded back, his chest tightening at the exchange. He couldn’t tell what Katsuki was thinking, but he was grateful the other man was there, even if he wasn’t as vocal as the others.

The moment passed, and the room erupted into laughter as Kirishima recounted a story from their UA days. Izuku allowed himself to relax, basking in the warmth and joy of the celebration. For tonight, at least, everything felt right.

After the laughter settled, Izuku and Ochako stepped to the front of the room. Izuku cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. “Thank you all for being here,” he began, his voice warm and steady. “This means so much to us. I’m so grateful to have friends and family who support us and make moments like this even more special. Let’s eat and celebrate together!”

Ochako smiled, her hand gently squeezing Izuku’s. “We couldn’t ask for better people to share this with,” she added. “Thank you, truly.”

The room erupted in applause before everyone took their seats for dinner. The meal was lively, filled with laughter and conversations as their friends reminisced about UA and asked a flurry of questions about the upcoming wedding.

“Where will you have it?” Mina asked excitedly. “Oh! You should do something outdoors! With fairy lights and flowers!”

“Have you set a date yet?” Momo inquired, her voice thoughtful.

“How many people are you inviting?” Denki chimed in, grinning. “You better not forget us, man.”

Izuku and Ochako exchanged a look, laughing. “We’re still figuring all of that out,” Ochako admitted. “But don’t worry, you’ll all be there.”

As the evening wound down, their friends began to filter out one by one, leaving with hugs and congratulations. Katsuki, however, lingered near the back, keeping to himself. When he saw his opportunity, he moved toward the door, hoping to slip out unnoticed.

“Kacchan!” Izuku’s voice stopped him in his tracks. Katsuki cursed under his breath before turning around.

“What?” he asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Izuku walked up to him, his expression earnest. “Thank you for coming,” he said. “It really means a lot to both of us.”

Before Katsuki could respond, Ochako joined them. Her smile was bright and genuine as she added, “It’s so good to have your support. It means the world to us.” She stepped forward, her arms outstretched. “Can I give you a hug?”

Katsuki tensed, every instinct screaming at him to bolt. But he nodded reluctantly, letting Ochako wrap her arms around him. He patted her back awkwardly, swallowing the nausea that threatened to rise.

“Thanks, Katsuki,” she said warmly as she pulled away.

Izuku stepped forward next, pulling Katsuki into a quick hug. This one Katsuki tolerated better, lingering just a second longer before stepping back.

“See you around, nerd,” he mumbled, turning quickly and heading for the door. His throat felt tight, and every step away from the room felt heavier.

As he exited the restaurant, the cool night air hit him, but it did little to soothe the lump in his throat. He barely made it half a block before he heard footsteps behind him.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima called, jogging to catch up. Katsuki didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, his shoulders hunched forward as though bracing against a storm.

“What do you want, shitty hair?” Katsuki growled, though his voice cracked halfway, the rasp revealing the fragile state he was in. His hands were shoved so deep into his pockets that his knuckles ached.

Kirishima fell into step beside him, his usual carefree smile replaced by quiet concern. “You good, man?”

Katsuki’s jaw tightened, and his pace quickened. His breathing was shallow, and his throat burned from the effort of keeping everything inside. “I’m fine. Leave it alone,” he muttered, his voice raw.

“You don’t look fine,” Kirishima pressed gently, careful not to push too hard. “Come on, talk to me. You don’t have to deal with this by yourself.”

Katsuki stopped so abruptly that Kirishima nearly bumped into him. He stood there, his back rigid, his fists trembling at his sides. He didn’t turn around, his face hidden from view. When he finally spoke, it was barely a whisper, and his words came out uneven, like they hurt to say.

“I can’t,” Katsuki rasped, his voice breaking. “If I start talking about it, I’ll fucking lose it. I can’t… not here. Not now.”

Kirishima stepped back, giving him space. He studied Katsuki’s tense frame, the way his shoulders shook ever so slightly, and his hands clenched so tight it looked like he might shatter. For a moment, the air between them was thick with unspoken emotion.

“Alright,” Kirishima said softly, his voice steady. “I get it. You don’t have to talk. But you know I’m here, right? Whenever you’re ready.”

Katsuki gave a sharp nod, not trusting himself to speak again. He turned and walked away, each step heavy and deliberate. The cool night air did nothing to ease the fire in his chest or the lump in his throat. He focused on the sound of his boots hitting the pavement, using it to drown out the chaos in his head.

Kirishima watched him go, his expression filled with quiet understanding. Katsuki didn’t look back. The silence he carried felt unbearable, but it was better than the alternative—better than letting himself fall apart where anyone could see.