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Chapter Text

“Eraser Head!”  

The first thing Aizawa registers as he comes to his senses is that he is tied to a chair. He attempts a subtle movement with his arms and it is enough to gather that whoever tied him, did a good job of doing so.  

“Eraser Head, sir, can you hear us?”

His head throbs as he regains consciousness, a sharp buzzing in his ears makes it hard to decifre what his team is trying to tell him. The smell of grease and oil hits him at the same time his eyes adjust to the dimly lit room. In front of him, he is able to see messy, mismatched silverware. With a glance across the table, he can make out a figure, though the faint light isn’t enough for him to figure who it is.

“Eraser Head, if you can hear us, please tap-”

Before the voice can finish, the electronic device at the he back of his collar is disabled, suddenly cutting off any communication with his outside team.

“Oh! I thought that I had gotten rid of all these annoying things.”  A green-haired boy, not older than his own students, mutters to himself while he methodically searches for more hidden devices in him. “Cut me some slacks, Tenko! You know they got here earlier than predicted.”  

He hasn’t heard anything aside from this boy, so Eraser Head is not sure if there is anyone else in the room helping him. The mission he was assigned had been a simple one: in and out of All For One’s possible hideout. It wasn’t supposed to have a confrontation, as this one particular mission is supposedly under-radar, and only a handful of people were aware of it. 

The boy hops on the table in one fluid motion and picks something up. In the dim light, it looks like a hair dryer, though he has a sinking feeling that it is actually a gun. 

“There’s nothing that I hate more than when heroes are not on time. People die because of it, don’t they know it? They said they would be here at 11PM, so imagine my surprise when it’s 10:40 and suddenly they-” 

Aizawa is too busy assessing how many weapons this boy has, he counts 5 visible, that he almost misses the way he swiftly turns around. 

“Eraser Head! It’s so nice that you finally woke up, and is now able to join us for our tea time!” 

Looking up, he meets the boy's stare. Under the fluorescent light, he seems almost surreal: his unnaturally wide smile doesn’t reach his large doe eyes. He has a slim pale body and a freckled face that gives him a more boyish look, contrasting sharply with all his scars across his skin and the arsenal he carries around his waist.  

“I know I said tea time, but I myself am more of a coffee drinker, what about you? If I would guess, you too look like someone who enjoys the taste of coffee, although I can see maybe you appreciating a caffeine tea? What’s that Yoichi? Black tea? Yes! That’s exactly what I meant, it has a bold taste and the effect-” 

Without breaking eye contact, Aizawa is able to activate his quirk, the erasure. But the boy’s only reaction is to grin, somehow, wider. 

“Here you go, Eraser, can I call you Eraser? Well, here is your tea, I will lend a little hand, since yours are… preoccupied.” 

He presses down a button on the side of the table, and a small robotic hand emerges from the ground, holding a cup. The scene before Eraser is so bizarre that he almost catches himself chuckling about the boy’s mannerisms. If anything, he is quite a performer. 

“Deku-” 

A groan interrupts them. Finally the body in front of has awoken too, capturing the boy's attention. Without the black mask, Eraser almost doesn’t recognize him, the one and only All For One. He is practically someone else, with his body slumped in the chair, his air mask nearly falling off his face.

“There you are, Pops! I didn’t take you for a heavy sleeper. I mean, the amount of sedative I gave you was supposed to knock you out only for a couple of hours… Well, we learn something every day, isn’t it what you always say?” With every word, the boy gets closer to the villain. 

“Good thing it wasn’t a lethal dose… would you imagine… that.” His face gets a little darker and his voice, once bright and clear, lowers at the end of the phrase.

“Deku, you didn’t let me explain! You always jump to conclusions, you have to see the bigger picture.”

They have this odd familiarity around them, it’s almost like a distorted discussion between a dad and his teenage son. The thing is, Eraser doesn’t have any material about this kid, none of his informants mention that somehow All For One has a… son.

“You wanted to make me a weapon. Wanted me to be a pawn only to fulfill your sick need to take down All Might.” 

The boy screams to the villain, for some reason, it appears that Eraser is the only one tied up to a chair, as if the boy trusts his ability to go against All For One or, maybe… Maybe he trusts that the villain won’t do anything against him. 

“Son, listen to me, if we do it, we can show them, all of them. We can avenge your mother.”

All For One reaches one hand towards him, but the boy’s take a step back, stumbling slightly into the silverware.

“Don’t you dare drag my mom into this.” 

“I think I have enough right to bring your mother into this. After all, without me, you’d have been nothing but a helpless child after her death.” 

Eraser sees the exact moment the boy assimilates the spiteful words tossed towards him. His eyes flashes with hurt, and all of his body flails just like if he has been physically punched.

“I’m sorry. That is not what I meant to say, you’ve proven yourself as someone who is not useless, you are-” 

“Oh my god. Kudō was right. Kudō was right and you only wanted me to be an artillery in your arsenal.”

“Kudō doesn’t know what he’s saying. You are my son. You know I love you, I’m the one who cares about you.”

The boy looks tormented. He drops the gun he was holding as he runs his hands in his already wild hair. His steps are not even as he stumbles across the table, and Aizawa is strangely concerned about him loosing his footing. 

“Kudō said so many times that I am only a means to an end for you, aren’t I?” 

“That’s not true, Deku-”

“But of course I didn’t believe him at first. You took care of me, you taught me… everything.”

Eraser doesn’t quite know how to get out of this situation, his outside team should have already intervened. He doesn’t know the boy’s quirk, but he has an idea of what All For One is capable of and he is not gonna risk it. 

“And then Tenko said that it was better being here than out in the streets with the so-called heroes that fai-” 

“That’s right son, remember that it’s you and me against that horrible Hero society. Don’t forget that.”

The boy chuckles eerily, glaring at the villain.

“Yeah, it’s you and me, Pops. You claying me for the long run, right? You saw a way to use me in your ‘bigger picture’, didn’t you?” 

“Son, listen to me, we can solve this together, no need to bring a… Hero into our family matter.”

It is the first time All For One acknowledges him, the hateful stare he throws at him is much more different than the quite carefully found expression he uses to talk to the boy. Eraser keeps his quirk on for the sake of doing something, anything.

“SHUT UP!” His stare contest with All For One is cut short once the boy screams and falls down to his knees, in the middle of the table. He balls himself down, head in his hand, looking so young and disturbed. “Everyone shut up I need to think.”

“I need to think, I need to think, he was using me… he wanted me to be part of… I’M NO WEAPON, I’m no weapon, not for you not for heroes not for… I’m no weapon, mom, please please I’m no weapon. Kudō what do I do? Should I get rid of him? But he is the only one who cares…TENKO NOT RIGHT NOW, I could care less that the outside team is coming, what do I do? Untie…? Why would I do that, Yoichi? He is gonna arrest me the second he…” 

The boy suddenly rises up from his position and walks to Eraser with determination in his eyes.

“Deku, I love you. You are the best to have ever happened to me, you are perfect just the way you are, son.”

“Shut up! Shut up, I need to think.” Eraser starts to feel his hand again and, and the moment the boy gets to the ties of his lower body, they hear a loud noise coming from somewhere above them.

“Shit, they are close.” He hears the boy mumbling to himself, Eraser can’t make the words out, but it seems that he is in an internal struggle while he works swiftly on his strains.

It’s only by chance that Aizawa looks up to meet All For One stares, the villain holding a gun on his hand. 

It’s the same one the boy had earlier. Right now, the whole situation seems hopeless. The only thought Eraser has is that he has to hang on until the team arrives, just a little bit more, he knows he can handle it, he has to buy more time, he just needs to-

“He is a good boy, Eraser Head.” All For One voice’s is somber, almost resigned. Before he can say anything, the villain aims at his own head. “Please take care of him.” 

It’s too late when the boy hears the soft noise of the trigger, it’s too late when he lets a howl like scream and it’s too late when he runs to the lifeless body on the chair.

“Nonononono, Pops!” The boy quickly falls into All for One’s lap sobbing, he cradles the villain’s head in his hand. “Please don’t leave me, please I can’t… don’t… come back please please, it’s you and me remember? I can’t do it alone, please, please.” 

Eraser Head finally stands up, but he finds himself unable to move as he watches the boy cry.

Between working the graveyard shift and his missions being often classified, it’s been a while since Aizawa had to be at a precinct. After giving his statement, he searches the files for anything about the boy. Luckily, all the reports are stored on the police force’s official network. With a few estimations and a couple of details he gathered from early, he narrows it down to two solid leads. 

The first is a file simply labeled as “Deku”. Aizawa moves to the less obvious one, a decade-old report.

Inko Midoriya, 36, green eyes and green hair, 155 centimeters (5’1’’), found dead after a robbery went wrong. Assailant: local villain with a toxic quirk, apparently working solo. Witnesses claimed she had her son at the time of the attack, Izuku Midoryia, 7 years old, green eyes and green hair, freckled face, approximately 120 centimeters (3’9’’). When heroes finally arrived at the scene, he was nowhere to be found. The file reveals that Inko was a working solo mother, living in a small studio on the bad side of Musutafu. Just like many others, the case was archived not long after the incident, her missing child became one more number on the statistics.

He moves on to the “Deku” file, opening it he meets the boy’s mugshot. He looks a couple of years younger, his hair still wild, but a little shorter, wide eyes glaring straight at him and freckles all around his face. 

“Insolent son of a bitch.” A nearby officer grumbles. “He is the one in cuffs, yet he has the nerves to be disrespectful. Let’s see if he keeps this up once he is locked away.” The door is slammed closed forcefully.

“Officer, I want to speak with him.” It seems that the man is not the brightest one, as he appears hesitant about Aizawa’s demand. So he clarifies. “The boy. I wanna talk with the boy.”

“Eraser, I applaud your effort as a Hero-”

“It’s Eraser Head.” He corrects.

“Very well, my apologies, Eraser Head.” He forces a chuckle. “I appreciate your offer, but there’s no need to bother yourself with the interrogation. The kid turns eighteen soon enough, in only a year or two.” He says it like a secret, expecting some reaction. “We just need to find an acceptable excuse to keep him here until he is older enough to be sent to Tartarus.”

“Officer, I hope you know that you just confessed to a Hero you plan to keep a victim, a minor, under arrest without any reason for doing so.”

“Victim? I’m sorry, Eraser Head, he is no victim. Need I to remind you he is All For One pupil?” The officer tries to be intimidating as he takes a step forward, towering over him.

There’s many reasons why Aizawa has chosen to work as an underground hero, one of them is the perk of having as little contact with people as possible. By people, he means the ones who think that having a tiny bit of power and influence means that you can have the world as you please.

“And the way I run this precinct goes with the saying… If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and quacks like a duck… you know damn well it can’t be a victim.” 

“Good thing, officer, that he is no duck, but a person.” Aizawa’s sharp tone cuts through the officer’s arrogance. “May I have to remind you that he has rights?” He asks rhetorically. “One of them it’s the right of a fair defense. I wouldn’t be pleased to have to sue you for misconduct. Now, where is the boy.”

Aizawa prides himself on having a pretty good instinct and following through with it. A proof of that, is the fact that he once expelled a whole class of heroes-wannabe, because he felt that they didn’t have what it takes. His intuition is something he got to polish along the almost thirty years he has been on the job. For this reason, he listens when his gut tells him that the boy is not as bad as he paints himself to be. 

The teenager looks relaxed, but Eraser Head knows a make-believe confidence when he sees it. The smug look on the boy’s face is betrayed by his red rimmed eyes and the dark bags under them, way more prominent than his own.  

“Eraser, are you supposed to be the one making me quack?” He asks with a sly grin, even if his voice comes out a bit stiff. “Or he didn’t have the time to give you the duck speech? Maybe he chose to go with another animal this time, it would be nice for a change. I would quite like to be a bunny, maybe… you know that bunnies do this soun-”

“Not your first time here?”

The boy shrugs. “It’s the first time I’ve stayed for this long.” 

“Why have you? Stayed, I mean.” He doesn’t ask the real question, why did you stay with him, with All For One?

“Well, it’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”  His smirks doesn’t falters. “Eraser, I don’t wanna make a fool of myself and only realize that I’m talking to a wall way too late, so, please, could we get over with it and would you give me any physical evidence that you are really here? Maybe a touch or tap. Anywhere you think is possible.” 

He raises his scarred hand just to be held back by the handcuffs locked in the table. In a more lightened room, Aizawal is now able to see details he missed before, like how he has tattoos all over his right side, the green pattern following down his arm and torso. 

Eraser, without missing a beat, takes a cold crooked finger in his hand and squeezes it three times, for good measure. He watches as the boy visibly eases up. 

“Thank you.” He breathes out. “It’s good to know I’m not giving a show for those pigs. I like to be an entertainment on my own terms.”

“You are welcome, Izuku.” He gets a small gasp in return and once again the mask of detachedness he had been holding on to for so long falters.

“My mom used to call me that.” He says indifferently, but a ghost of smile flickers across his face. 

“Would you like me to call you by this or by… Deku?”  

“Up to you, ‘Raser.” If he was anyone else, he would have believed it, nonetheless, Aizawa is nothing but an observer.

“Very well, Izuku.” Aizawa finds comfort in the way his hollow eyes spark a little bit. “I am not part of the investigation, this is absolutely off records.” He says looking pointedly at the camera he made sure it would be turned off for their conversation. “I’ve come across two files.” The one with Izuku’s mugshot still sits heavily in the back of his head. “One about a missing child and one about a teenage boy who carries the name given by All For One, it-”

“He wasn’t the one who named me.” Izuku mumbles. 

“What?”

“He wasn’t the one who named me, if that's what the file says, it is wrong. It was actually a friend who… or not quite a friend, maybe a friend turned bully if you may.” He adds a little bit louder. “The thing is, he wasn’t the one who named me. My friend not so friend wasn’t the one who named me. I am the one who named myself.” Izuku’s voice is sharp, it doesn’t leave any space for discussion. “Eraser Head, I am not someone who was made by anyone else. I will make myself clear: I am not a weapon.”

“You say it with so much conviction, even though you knocked me out and tied me down.”

“One could argue it was self defense, as you seemingly invaded my house.” Aizawa has to bite himself back from smiling at the quick comeback. 

“One, then, would have to explain how he has access to classified information.” Aizawa says. “And afterwards, one would lose all of his unlicensed guns found in said house.”

“Well, one doesn’t have licenses because one has built every single one of them.” Aside from where they are, and the content of their conversation, Izuku finally looks his age as he pouts. “And, for the record, one has already lost all his guns because some officer decided to be a big baby about it”.

“So, you've built your own equipment. Have you ever built anything for him?” He is met with silence. “Kid, I need to understand where you fit in All For One plans.”

“I already told you, I’m no weapon.”

“Not what I asked, Problem Child.” 

“Oh, you are a good one, ‘Raser.” He says, faking a naive voice. “But I thought that you weren’t gonna interrogate me.”

“I’m just trying to fill the gaps, Izuku, I can only imagine things.”

“Tell me, then, Eraser, what do you think happened to me?”

“Well, kid, here is how I picture it: A seven year old boy suddenly loses his mother to pure Hero negligence, All For One sees the opportunity to play into this boy’s disillusion and he runs with it, he raises the boy as his pupil until the boy learns his plans and decides to confront it.”

“That’s a funny thought.” He laughs humorlessly. “You guys lose a child one day, don't even care to look for him and boom, ten years later you find him only to twist it and blame the person making sure that the child actually survived.”

”Why do you think no one searched for you?”

“Don’t even try lying about it, Eraser Head. Pops said so, and he gave me access to your network. So it’s not like he was wrong when he said he was the only one who cared.”

“Well, it seems that my theory is not so far fetched, then. He did play into your vulnerability.”

“The problem with your scenario, Eraser, is that you want so badly to paint him as a monster.” He snaps. “You don’t know what it is like to lose the most important person in your life while everything you always believed in, heroes, save to win, goodness, betrays you.” He says bitterly. “Wanna blame someone? Blame the person who killed my mom, who almost- blame the heroes who didn't stand up to me, even when they should have, blame the excuse of an officer who didn’t deem me important enough to be searched for. They are the villains in my story.” Izuku’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “You are not giving him enough credit. Pops made sure I was fed and had a place to sleep at night, he held me when I cried for my mom. He may be a monster in your eyes, but he saved me.” 

“Izuku, I do believe that he loved you like a son.” After all, the villain made his last words a plea for Eraser Head to take care of this boy. “But love doesn’t excuse the way he took advantage of what has happened in your life to manipulate you.” 

“You sound just like Kudō.”

“You mentioned him before, is he-”

“A hallucination.” He breathes out. “At least I think it’s what they are.” Izuku says, contemplative. 

“Sometimes there are others, but three of them are constant.” The boy gesticulates. “Tenko, Yoichi and Kudō, they just appear.” 

The revelation doesn’t come as a surprise to Aizawa, he had figured as much. He wants to ask more questions about it, to understand, but Izuku doesn’t seem interested in explaining it more than he has. 

“I don’t…” Izuku breathes out. “I don’t think he was manipulating me.” 

“Well, kid,” Aizawa tries to explain.  “The thing with good manipulators, is that you don’t realize when you are being manipulated.”

The air is laid silent afterwards. Unspoken words hover between them and Izuku’s eyes convey all of the grief, pain and confusion he felt. 

Outside the room, the precinct seemed unknown to the somber realization Aizawa reached. Izuku has a clever mind, strategic thinking and raw talent he hadn't seen before in someone so young. He was capable of getting a senior Hero by surprise and managed to have the upper hand during all their confrontation. Had he been offered the right opportunities, where would he be? If he had a stable childhood, if someone else had been there for him, would it be different? 

However, Aizawa couldn’t be naive. 

He knew too much. He knew how the system worked, how many children were tossed into the wrong tracks, because they weren’t given fair chances. He was aware of the countless kids who lost their lives because of the brutal world they lived in.

If It could be so much better in the right set of circumstances, then it could be so much worse given the wrong ones. Yet, he couldn’t help but wonder... 

“Eraser Head, you’ve been there for a while.” Unfortunately, it’s the same officer from before who approaches him. “Have you found an adequate reason to press charges against him?” He has the nerve to ask. “I have to say the boy is slithery, he entertains himself by finding tangents and loopholes, it’s frustrating how he seems to have fun with it.” 

“Officer, do you take me as a joke?” The man in front of him makes a disconcerted expression. “I specifically told you that if you kept trying to wrongly attribute a crime to an innocent person, I would make sure you would be hold accountable for it.”

“Eraser Head, you just spent more than a couple of hours with him, so you must’ve been made aware of how he is guilty.” 

“Guilty of what, officer?” Aizawa snaps. “The only thing I’ve been made aware of is about how we failed him, we both swore to protect the ones in need, yet, he was a victim of our negligence.”

“I see,” The officer groans. “Somehow he was able to trick you into thinking he is an ‘innocent victim of the system’ and all that crap people like him use to distort facts.” 

“You don’t seem to realize ‘all that crap’ are all facts, he is a victim of our failed structure.”  He retaliates. “You don’t have anything on him, because he isn’t guilty. And you still don’t understand that.”

“Of course I don’t, it’s obvious tha-”

“I don’t wanna hear another word.” He says abruptly. “I think that those couple of hours I spent there were enough time for you to get the documents I asked you to.” When the officer stays silent, he huffs. 

“Very well, I need to speak to my husband.” Eraser says reaching for his phone. His voice is inflexible, it is the same tone he uses at his students when they misbehave. “I expect those documents when I come back.”

His husband’s soothing words still resonate in Aizawa’s head when he sees himself entering the interrogation room for the second time that day. This time, Izuku is sitting on the floor, knees drawn to his chest while he rests his head on top of them.  

“Problem Child, I see that you were able to get out of your handcuffs.” He says frowning at the red marks on his wrists.

“ ‘Raser?” Izuku whips his head so fast that it might have hurt. “You are back.” He says, questioning. Aizawa finds it painful the way he looks unbelieving. 

“I said I’d come back.” He carefully approaches him, sitting down until he is at eye’s level with Izuku. He takes his finger and squeezes three times, just like before. Only, this time, he is rewarded with a faint apprehensive smile. And the first genuine one. 

“I thought you would have already been anywhere but here.” He says in a small voice, Izuku looks tired and Aizawa is not sure if they had gotten him anything to drink or eat all day. 

“Well, I don’t have anywhere else to be right now.” 

It’s a lie and they both know it. He has his home and his husband to return to, his shift has ended nearly an hour ago, he technically doesn’t have to be there. But he knows, his husband knows, there is no way he could just leave. 

“It seems that we are in the same boat, then.” Izuku says. “If they release me, I guess.” 

“About that, you are free to go.” Seeing his skeptical expression, Aizawa adds. “They realized there is no reason to keep you here, so they told me you are free of charges.”

“Right.” He finds it amusing, if not a little sad, that even though he knows he is able to leave, Izuku doesn’t move from where he is.

 “I want to talk to you about something, though.” Taking a moment to breathe, he hands Izuku the papers he is holding. “This is a document that makes me your legal guardian. If you want to, there is somewhere you could go to.”

“Why would you do that?” His question is genuine, almost as if he believes that Aizawa has made a mistake. 

The truth is, between then and now, he finds himself responsible for this boy. When he signed those papers, it hadn’t been quite clear which title he would hold. He only knew what spots were open: a guardian, a mentor, a tutor, a parent. Aizawa would fill any and every role Izuku would let him fill. 

”You deserve a fair chance, kid.”

“I…” 

He sees the uncertainty in Izuku’s expression. The boy doesn’t fully trust him, of course not, he was betrayed by the Hero society. Aizawa hadn’t expected him to somehow believe blindly in a pro Hero.

“Why don’t we take baby steps? You come with me for tonight, we leave this shitty place, and go home to my husband’s killer dinner. There will be a place for you to be safe and to rest a bit. How does that sound?” 

“That sounds…good.” He gets another barely there smile, and it’s a win in his books.

Aizawa parks his car in front of a two-story house with a wide, full width front porch. Izuku has never been to this side of town before. For some reason, as they stop at the door, he feels a dull buzzing under his skin, a light thrill of excitement that muffles the usual noise in his mind. 

“Shit, I should have asked earlier,” Aizawa turns to him. “Are you allergic to cats?” 

He only shakes his head in a negative response.

“Great! We have five.” Izuku doesn’t mention he had already figured he had cats from the scratches on Aizawa’s hands and the car seats covered in fur.

“Love, we are home.” Aizawa calls. 

Izuku follows him into a cozy room. He can’t help but notice how it would be perfectly described as ‘homey’. It feels as well-lived in as cared for, with floor covered in pretty rugs and a big L shaped sofa in the middle of the room, where a white fluffy cat rests lazily, as if she owns the place. Taking all in, the scent of freshly cooked rice reminds Izuku that he hasn’t had a proper meal in a couple of days.   

“Come in, come in, boys!” A tall blonde man walks in with a large persian cat nestled in his arms. “You must be, Izuku! I’ve been looking forward to meeting you all day.” 

“Present Mic.” Izuku says as a greeting, he doesn’t seem surprised to see the blonde in the house, casual clothes and hair down.

“Please, no need to be so formal.” He reaches Izuku’s shoulder and squeezes it softly three times. “Welcome home, kid, I’m Aizawa Hizashi.” 

“Thank you for having me.” 

Throughout the day, Aizawa has seen different versions of who Izuku is. First, he faced an apparently vicious boy, then he watched as he crumbled down after All For One’s death. Later, he had met the cheeky part of him and, now, Izuku’s shy and uncertain side emerged. Somehow, all of those versions are layers that fit together into the same person.

Aizawa knows that this shyness comes from a place of insecurity. There is no way that he wouldn’t be nervous,  meeting another Hero, after he made clear how little he trusts them. He doesn’t have his weapons anymore and, if he has to escape, he doesn’t know the place beforehand. Eraser can almost feel the boy strategizing the best exit route. However, it’s a known fact that Aizawa is married to the warmest man on earth.

“Nice to meet you, Izuku.” Hizashi says, pointing to where one of their cats is laying. “The lazy pants there is Matcha, and this snob here is Catsby. You will find more of them roaming around the house, I’m sure.” Izuku half chuckles in surprise when their gray-striped cat weaves between his legs.

“Told you so.” He says fondly. “Meet Cleopatra, Cleo to her close friends. She is quite a show-off.” Cleopatra stops in front of Izuku, meowing for attention from the new addition in their home. He kneels down, carefully raising his hand and waiting until she is ready to come to him.

“Long day, darling?” Aizawa feels his husband’s arms around him.

“The longest one.” He says softly, so he doesn’t disturb Cleo and Izuku. 

“Hello, Cleopatra,” His voice is affectionate, gentle. “I know that my hand looks bad,  with the scars and misshapen fingers, but I promise I give amazing cuddles.” They both stay in each other's embrace, silently holding their breath as she sniffs Izuku’s hand.

“There you are, such a good girl, aren’t you?” Cleo decides that he can pet her, purring when Izuku scratches the spot behind her ears and Aizawa smiles.

The dinner is spent in quiet words. The whole time, Izuku contemplates the way they serve each other food, including him, too, while both adults make space for him to be able to breathe. At the end of the meal, they don't see the tears welling in Izuku’s eyes.

It’s late at night when Izuku decides to leave. He considers climbing out the window, only to realize that he would have to tear down the protective screen. He doesn’t want any of the cats to follow his steps and make an escape too. So front door it is. 

He‘s almost there when he hears someone humming in the kitchen. It’s a low, soothing voice, a child melody filling the air, the same his mom used to sing to him to sleep, and after that, the one Pops used to whistle when they worked together in his office. Without realizing it, he finds himself following the sound. 

“Still up, Izuku?” Hizashi greets him with a smile. 

“I…” Hizashi takes one of his hands, squeezing them three times just like before, just like Aizawa had done the first time. It settles him down, the realization that what is happening in front of him is real, and not a play of his troublesome mind. 

“I made cookies,” He says, closing the oven.  “Here, have some.“ 

Izuku’s favorites are snickerdoodles, but he finds out that the chocolate chip ones Hizashi just baked might come in a close second. He tries to think of reasons he should walk out of the room and just bolt. 

Yet, he doesn’t come across one, by the time the cookies are gone.

“Were you leaving?” Hizashi’s voice doesn’t hold any judgment, he asks it genuinely, a bit worried.

He is not sure if it’s his sleep deprived mind, his physical tiredness or his emotional drained state that unlocks the tears. He only knows that, one second he is biting down the last piece of the cookie, and in the next one, he is choking down a sob while tears stream down his face. Hizashi doesn’t say anything as he rubs his back tenderly, and, somehow, it makes him cry harder. 

He feels like a child. A useless child who can’t even leave when he doesn’t belong.

“Izuku. You are not a useless child.” Izuku almost believes the conviction in Hizashi’s voice. “And of course you belong here, why would you think you don’t?”

“I’m just so tired. I want to trust you guys. Without ‘Raser there, I’m sure I’d still be rotting in an interrogation room. But Tenko keeps saying I should leave, that this is all too good to be true, so there must be a catch somewhere and, and… This time, even Kudō agrees with him, which is an event on its own,” Izuku says it all at once. “But then, there is Yoichi. He says I should stay and believe one more time, that I should lay my heart out just one more time and I don’t know what to do.” His voice is hoarse, the words tumbling between hiccups. He is sure that if Hizashi didn’t think he was crazy before, he would now.

Hizashi nods calmly. “So Tenko and Kudō think that you should leave, and Yoichi thinks you should stay. But what about you? Do you want to stay?” 

Izuku stares dumbfoundead at him, stunned by the way he asks it so simply. No accusations, no probing about his physiological condition, just an earnest question about what he wants. 

“I’m just so tired.”

“I think that, for tonight, this is a good enough reason for you to stay here.” He says tenderly. 

“I still can’t decide if you are a gullible person for trusting me so easily or if I should just question your sanity, too.” Hizashi giggles and Izuku thinks that his last hypothesis may be a plausible one. 

“Well, Shota trusts you enough to bring you home. So, of course I will trust you with my cookies.” 

That’s something, but not enough, isn’t it? It won’t be enough, when they realize he is broken and bad and not worth their time. But Izuku can pretend, for tonight, that they won’t understand too soon the mistake they made. 

“Is there something I can do to make things more comfortable for you?”

He shakes his head. The problem is: Izuku can already see himself getting comfortable. It will be heartbreaking to be comfortable, with these great people, in this amazing place, and loving cats, until someday they figure out there is no way of fixing him. And then, Izuku will lose this too, just like he has lost everything up to now. 

“Thank you,” He says, helping Hizashi clean up. “You guys have done more than enough.”

“In that case, how about we watch something on TV?” Hizahi asks, guiding them into the living room. “I am actually behind the new season of RuPaul's Drag Race. Since Aizawa is on vacation from school, he keeps getting ahead of me, so I have to catch up with a few episodes. And watching it with company is way better, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think I have ever watched it.” Izuku waits until Hizashi sets up everything to sit down. They both get comfortable in the middle of the coach, shoulders touching while they pay attention to the show. It’s not too long until they have a lap full of cats. 

Izuku finds himself enjoying the moment, they make comments about the looks, comfortable conversation about their preferences and he actually giggles at one of Hizashi’s lame jokes at some point. He slowly puts the day’s events aside, hiding it in the back of his mind. It’s nice, to pretend he is a normal teenager on an ordinary night, living a quiet life. It turns out, Izuku likes to play pretend. 

The first rays of sunlight stream into the room when he hears Aizawa’s quiet footsteps approach. Hizashi has fallen asleep, snuggled between the cushions after just three episodes, but Izuku remained wide awake. He was unable to truly turn off his brain, although pulling an all-nighter is no problem for him. Sleep hasn’t come easily to him in years, he is proudly able to go 33 hours without sleep. Instead, he got to spend his time finishing the whole season, careful to not let Hizashi know, he doesn’t want him to feel left behind. Hizashi was right, though, watching it with someone else makes the experience better. 

Aizawa stops in the doorway, taking the scene in. The glow of the television illuminates the room as Hizashi soft snores. He notes that Izuku looks far too alert for someone who should’ve been asleep hours ago. Making a subtle gesture, he motions to Izuku to join him.  They enter the kitchen and he perks up when Aizawa starts the coffee maker,  with caffeine, he is able to push 40 hours awake.

”Already up, ‘Raser?” He asks.

“Catsby attempted to murder me in my sleep.” He answers tiredly. “Couldn’t quite snooze back after being asphyxiated.” Izuku watches his back as he pours water on a kettle. “Couldn’t sleep?” 

“I have to familiarize myself with places first.“ He quietly admits. It's half the truth. The unfamiliarity is unsettling, but, if he is being entirely honest, the decision he has yet to make, to stay or to go, is what made him be unable to turn off. 

Aizawa places a steaming cup in front of him, it smells earthy and kind of like Pop's garden. Even if it’s a comforting scent, Izuku eyes the cup warily, this doesn’t seem like coffee.

“It’s chamomile tea,” He eyes Aizawa’s mug that holds coffee almost accusingly. “It’s supposed to make you relax.”

“Drink it up,” Aisawa says sitting down across from him. “There will be no caffeine for you until you’ve got a couple of hours of rest.” He frowns, but the look Aizawa gives him, leaves no room for argument.

“Fine.” He doesn’t pout. With a sigh, he takes a small sip, It’s warm and not too sweet, and he is surprised by how much it settles soothingly against the tightness in his chest.

“You know that you can ask us for help, right?” Aizawa says, watching him closely. He is caught off guard, not quite knowing what he is supposed to say. He shifts in his seat, staring at the tea without a word. “If I show you around the house, will you be able to sleep?” He continues, his voice firm, but never harsh.

Izuku hesitates, fidgeting with the hem of his T-shirt, an old worn shirt Aizawa lent him the night prior. Eraser sips his coffee and doesn’t rush him, as Izuku thinks back to the ritual he and Pop’s used to follow every night, roaming around every possible break in alternative before they would go to their own room.   

“I guess it should be enough,” He finally says. “Showing me where all the windows are and making sure they are all locked.” 

Without another word, Aizawa turns around and walks out of the kitchen. Izuku blinks, but follows him as they make their way through the whole house. The quiet hum of the early morning accompanies them as Aizawa meticulously secures every lock with deliberate care. 

He lets Izuku mutter at himself about possible escape routes and doesn’t interrupt his analyses of the worst case scenario. Aizawa simply listens, letting the boy work through his anxious routine in his own way. It’s half an hour later when they circle back to Izuku’s designated room.

“Rest up, Problem Child.” Izuku makes his way to the neatly made bed as his eyes  dart to the closed window one more time. Aizawa steps closer and taps his fingers gently on his forehead,  three soft, rhythmic times. It grounds him, unconsciously bringing him out of his head. He doesn’t know what the gesture means to ‘Raser and Hizashi, but for him, it kind of translates into: You are here, I’m here, It’s okay. 

Aizawa adjusts the cover around his body, tucking it snugly as if he has done it countless times before. Izuku can feel himself slowly slipping away into the darkness of his dreams, and for once, he doesn’t fight it. His body feels heavy, the exhaustion has finally caught up with him. 

Aizawa lingers close until Izuku’s breathing evens out, watching the boy's features softening. He makes sure he is fully asleep before he steps outside, exhaling in relief that, for now, Izuku is finally at peace.

In his dreams, Izuku lies comfortably, his head in his mom’s lap. She sings him a soft lullaby, combing her hands through his curls in a touch he hasn’t forgotten, but had never stopped yearning for. It has been a while since she had appeared to him. 

Izuku would never admit it to the guys, but hallucinating his mom is his favorite part of his condition. Of course he appreciates their company. He enjoys Yoich’s tender reassurances, he loves the fact Kudō has a fiery confidence, which reminds him of someone long gone. And he actually cherishes Tenko’s unfiltered honesty, his perspective being one he respects on his analysis. They make him feel not alone, but. His mom is home and he misses her. He misses his mother, how lovingly she was and how she always worked hard to give him a semblance of a normal childhood. 

He misses her so much, in a bone-deep ache, that sometimes he feels like he will never be okay again. Even with time, Pops, and everything between, the hole of her absence never fills, like a wound that refuses to heal. 

For a moment, he wishes he got to stay with her like this forever. 

“That’s nonsense, my son.” She tilts his chin gently so their twin shade of green eyes meet. “I’m always here with you.” 

“I’m just so tired, mom.” He whispers, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “Of everything I get to love being taken away from me.” 

“You are so young to have been through this much, to carry so much pain.” Her smile is sad, but beautiful nonetheless. “I wish I could protect you more.” She says dreamily. “But you are strong, my beautiful boy. And I have a feeling these people you are staying with, they are good. They will be able to be there for you where I can’t be.”

“They are good people.” He admits, though his voice is laced with worry. “I’m scared I’m going to hurt them, mom. I don’t want them to get hurt because of me.” 

“Listen to me, Izuku.” She says, her voice reminding him of ‘Raser’s calm but firm tone. “What happened wasn’t your fault, don’t think for a second you are responsible for it. I’m so proud of you. I’m proud of what you’ve grown up to be, my perfect Izuku.” 

He takes her hand and presses a gentle kiss to her palm, savoring her presence a little longer while he rests.

When he wakes up a few hours later, he wanders into the empt living room. Well, almost empty, two cats lounge lazily on the floor.

“Hi guys,” He says softly, sitting down next to them. ”I don't think we’ve had a chance to meet before.” 

He carefully holds out his hand, as both cats watch him. The sleek black cat with piercing green eyes sniffs him suspiciously, positioning herself protectively in front of the other, a fluffy golden-yellow feline with crimson eyes that blinks uninterestedly at him. Izuku almost giggles at himself as he realizes how his grumpy demeanor and judgy expression resembles so much a certain someone he misses dearly. 

“BonBon and Pancake, please be nice to Izuku.” Aizawa calls entering the room, his hair up in a ponytail and a mug in hands. 

“They are quite protective of each other,” He places himself next to Izuku and hands him the steamy coffee. “So don't take it personally if they are slow to warm up to you, kid.” 

They watch BonBon nib at Izuku’s toe, as if testing how far she can get away with being a menace. “Good sleep?” 

“The best.”  

“I’m glad.” Aizawa studies him for a second, noting the smile that seems new on his face, but doesn’t pry. They stay in a comfortable silence while Izuku sips his coffee, gathering enough courage to say what has been on his mind since the moment with his mom.

“I…” His voice falters, but Aizawa’s steady gaze coaxes him to continue. “I have been thinking… Maybe I could stay with you guys for the week?”

Aizawa doesn’t answer immediately, he only reaches for Izuku’s finger. “Of course you can, Problem Child.” He says, as though it is the most obvious thing in the world. “I already told you, you have a home here.” Izuku feels himself shying away from the care in his voice, his own eyes stinging. “If you want to, of course.” Aizawa adds as a second thought. 

“Maybe…” Izuku thinks of calling this place his own and having somewhere that it is his too. “Baby steps.” He breathes out. “Maybe we can start with the week?” He finishes timidly.

“It's settled then.” Aizawa smiles. “There are only a few conditions, if you want to stay with us.” 

Izuku is taken aback, he didn’t think he would have to prove himself not useless again. If ‘Raser realizes the way he freezes, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he squeezes his finger three times, easing Izuku’s mind from spiraling. 

“First: You will consider going to therapy.” He says in that firm but kind tone. “You have been through a lot, Izuku. Talking to a more qualified person could help.” 

He blinks. It's nothing he has expected to hear. He knows his… unhealthy behaviors and… unique personality, but that doesn’t mean he wants to change them. However, therapy seems something he could reflect on. 

“Second: if you, anytime, think that people from your past are putting you in danger, we need to know. We want to protect you, and the only way we can is if you tell us what is happening.” Aizawa's gaze is unwavering, leaving no room for discussions.

“And the third,” He continues. “Don’t overfeed the cats. Pancake is the most likely to hiss at you if you don’t feed him when he wants to,” He says with an accusingly look at the cat and a quiet laugh escapes Izuku. “But don't fall for his guilt-trip. They have a strict diet that must be followed. I will put you in the rotation of feeding them, if you want to stay here with us.”

“Thank you.” His voice is thick with emotion, he doesn’t specify what he is thankful for, but Aizawa doesn't press.

“Don’t mention it, Problem Child.” 

Izuku's first week with the Aizawas passes by between late-night cookies and early-morning coffee conversations. They spend the days getting familiar with each other, Izuku carefully jots down everything he picks up about the cats, he figures how ’Raser night time job makes him a little grumpier in the mornings than in the afternoons, and comes to terms with Hizashi‘s occasional loudness. In exchange, both adults adapt to Izuku’s anxious tendencies and master being able to communicate with him, even when his head tries to sabotage him. 

It’s on the last day of the week that Izuku attends therapy for the first time.

Aizawa drives him to the clinic at 1 PM, to see a psychologist renowned for specializing in trauma and anxiety disorders. He waits in the parking lot for the whole three hours of Izuku’s first appointment. When the boy gets back with swollen eyes and a red nose, they don’t say a word. They make their way home in silence as Izuku seems too absorbed in his own thoughts. He barely notices when they arrive at home, only realizing they are on the coach when Cleopatra nudges his hand to get cuddles from him. 

He snaps out of his haze, catching the worried expressions on ’Raser and Hizashi’s face. Izuku doesn’t have the energy to smile, but he moves closer to them, resting his head on Aizawa’s shoulder.

“She is… a good one.” He murmurs to no one in particular.

“That 's great to hear, Izuku.” Aizawa places a comforting hand on his back. “Does that mean you’d like to go back for another session?” 

Still drained to answer verbally, he only nods his head once. The relief in Hizashi’s warm smile and Eraser’s proud glint in his eyes makes the effort worth it.  

By the third week, Hizashi decides it's time for a shopping spree. It’s not bad living off borrowed clothes, but he reasons that Izuku deserves things that are truly his own. He has a feeling Hizashi has been reading a parenting book about raising teenagers, but he doesn’t comment on it. 

Shopping with them is like being part of a live episode of Ru Paul’s drag race. They enthusiastically outline what Izuku’s “style” should be and how it should “reflect” in his personality. Izuku has the best of times standing in the fitting room while the two adults race around the store, assembling an outfit for him to decide the winner. 

In that afternoon, he learns just how competitive they can be, turning their silly game into an all-out contest. By the end of it, Izuku's cheeks hurt from how much he laughs. 

Of course, he got to pick his own clothes too, even though ‘Raser frowns at the shirts he chooses with “T-shirt”, “Hoodie shirt”, “Dress shirt”, “Sleep shirt” printed on them. Hizashi on the other hand, gets his humor completely and even giggles at one plain shirt that says “Flannel Shirt”. 

They also get him a phone, despite his protests that their current communication system works just fine, passing notes via the cats. It’s Izuku, however, the one who suggests getting a new haircut. 

Since he was seven, Pops was the one who cut his hair, and he feels that, maybe, it’s time for a change. Of course he still loves his Pops and, even though he understands the man’s flaws, he misses him deeply. 

They find a cozy little salon, but he asks to go in alone, for the sake of making a surprise about his finished look. Inside, an elderly woman patiently walks him through the styles she could work on his hair, going to the extent of showing him pictures of her previous work. When she is done, he barely recognizes himself in the mirror. 

His curls are layered neatly, framing his face in a different yet familiar way. He can see his reflection tearing up, and he sees himself. The little child who would cry about pretty much everything, the orphan boy terrified of being alone, the edgy teen lost in a cycle of fear he couldn’t seem to stop. But also, he now sees this new person staring at him through the mirror, with a starry-eyed expression he didn’t know he could make. He takes in the smiles lines he has now on his face and the way he holds his head up, still afraid, but not only afraid. He looks different, yet he looks like everything he has been up until this point. He steps out of the salon smiling.

“Wow,” He hears Hizashi loud cheers before he sees them. “You look so handsome, Izuku! What do you kids call this cut nowadays?” 

“That will be a wolf cut, ‘Zashi” 

“Looking good, kid.” Aizawa says with an approving nod.

“Thank you, guys, for… today.” Izuku says sincerely.

“It was our pleasure, Zuku.” Hizashi replies, throwing an arm around him. “Now, this new look deserves a celebration meal, what’s on the menu?”

“Ramen, maybe?”  Izuku feels warmth blooming in his chest as he walks between them, their playful banter filling the evening air. His hand brushes against the soft fabric of his new hoodie.

“That’s a solid choice.” Aizawa’s lips quirks up slightly.

It’s Izuku's sixth week with them when they discover he is quirkless, it’s also the week he turns seventeen, not that he lets anyone know. They are lounging on the couch, coffee in hands and Matcha snoring softly next to him as the local news covers Lemillion’s latest fight against some villain. 

“He has grown so much since the last time I’ve seen him.” Aizawa says.

“At U.A.” Izuku says in a knowing tone, the perplexed expression they make amazes Izuku, earning a quick giggle from him.

“Come on, that one was obvious.” He shrugs. “You are U.A. alumni while being high profile heros, ‘Zashi mentioned you are on ‘vacation from school’. It just makes sense you being a teacher at U.A. and Lemillion being a recently graduated student only tells me that it would be the last place you’ve seen him in action.” Hizashi claps enthusiastically, while Aizawa gapes at his reasoning. 

“I didn’t even remember I’d said that to you.” Izuku just grins at him, keeping his eyes on the news.

“His quirk is amazing, Permeation. But honestly, he gets points from me for being so independent of it.” He mumbles pinching his under lip between his fingers.

“What do you mean?” Aizawa asks, intrigued.

“He sure has a strong quirk, but he doesn't have his head up inside his ass.” Izuku replies, taking a sip of his coffee.  

“He doesn’t rely completely on his ability, it’s his own effort that makes him a good hero, it is a benefit for him.” Izuku continues his analysis, trying hard not to ramble as he explains everything he caught about the fight. “What if a villain has a quirk like yours? Would other heroes be able to give 100% of themselves without having their quirks? Well, Lemillion would.”

“And it’s quite impressive, because it is so easy to rely upon your quirk. You are born with this ability that is always there, to see a beginner hero holding his ground without it, is refreshing.”  Izuku points to the television screen as it shows highlights from the fight. “We can see in the way he fights, he uses his power as an accessory, not the foundation. He doesn’t need his quirk to be a hero, but it does make his job easier.” He concludes. Aizawa stares at him with a thoughtful expression, but a proud smile softens his face.

“Wow, kid,” Hizashi says excitedly. “You’ve analyzed it very quickly, is that your quirk?”

“That would be a pretty lame quirk to have, ‘Zashi.” He shakes his head. “I’ve been diagnosed as quirkless since I was four.”

“Really?” Hizashi’s eyes widen. “I always thought you had some kind of intelligence-enhancer quirk. I am more than amazed to learn it’s all your big brain doing this.” Izuku blushes at the compliment, trying to hide behind his coffee mug. 

“It bothers me how they call it a ‘diagnosis’, like it's somehow a disease.” Aizawa says frowning. 

“Yeah, imagine telling the little kid, son of a single mother, obsessed with the idea of being a hero, that he has been  ‘diagnosed’  as lacking the one thing everyone says it’s required to be a Hero. It was quite traumatic if i have a say.” His voice is steady even if it carries a big weight.

“I can only imagine how hard that must have been. Our society doesn’t… handle nuances very well.”

“Right? Everything was fine up until I was four. Yes, we were struggling to make ends meet, but we were fine. Then I suddenly get this ‘diagnosis’ that labels me as different, defective.” He laughs dryly. “It was quite cruel to tell the small child who is already the easiest target at school that he shouldn’t bother with his dream, because, guess what? Not gonna happen.”

He hesitates before continuing, his voice softer. “I had this friend once. My best friend, we used to play heroes together, he was my favorite person. He was so… confident, fearless, it was kind of hard not to be in his orbit. I think that’s why it hurt so much when he started being mean, when he learned I was quirkless. He started calling me Deku, soft touches became harsh ones and I missed him, even though he was right in front of me.

“This was a horrible thing for a child to do.” Aizawa says sternly.

“It wasn't nice,” He agrees. “But I’ve come to realize that it wasn’t about me being quirkless, it was about his inferiority complex.” He shrugs.

“That doesn't mean it was okay for him to pick on you.” Hizashi points out.

“No, it doesn’t. But he was a kid. When they don’t understand their own feelings, kids are mean sometimes.”

“Well, you were a child too.” Aizawa counters. Izuku smiles at how he seems ready to pick his side and how willingly he is to defend him.

“I have long forgiven him. Life happened and what he used to do to me became just something I had to move on from.”

“Don’t you ever think about how he is now?” Hizashi asks.

“I mean, I’ve always wondered. It would be so easy to find him. I remember his name, where he lived. I would be able to bump into him easily, if I really wanted to.” Izuku says nonchalantly. “But I’ve changed a lot since. I’m kind of scared that if we met again, he would tell me he preferred the person I’m not anymore.“ 

“Well, maybe he has changed, too.” Hizashi squeezes his shoulder. 

“For what it's worth,” Aizawa says gently. “I know that anyone would be lucky to be your friend, Izuku.”

At the beginning of the third month, Izuku starts to feel restless. He’s fully adapted to his new environment, but there is an increasing awareness in his mind about the fact he hasn’t exploded something in weeks. With Pops, he spent countless hours building everything that would cross his mind, often gravitating towards his favorite: explosives. As a self taught inventor, Izuku has an insatiable fascination with the idea of crafting big guns and destructive devices, although he knows from experience they aren’t the most convenient weapons. He likes refining his own ideas, to spend time marveling at his beautiful creations, and he deeply enjoys how his hands ache at the end of the day. He longs for that feeling.

To seek that satisfaction, Izuku starts fiddling with things he finds around the house, an old vacuum cleaner that he transforms into a crude weapon prototype, but he can’t help but notice how that is still something missing. 

That’s why he asks the Aizawa’s for his first big request. They are relaxing in the backyard, each occupied with their separated tasks, while basking in shared company. Izuku looks up from his journal and finally makes his case. He has rehearsed it all day, yet he can help but feel apprehensive. 

As he explains his idea, they can’t help but notice the sparks on Izuku’s eyes. So they agree to think about it before giving him the answer. Hizashi is on board almost immediately, he argues that it would be no different from what U.A. 's support course students have access to. However, Aizawa is more cautious. He feels uneasy about the idea, as he doesn’t want Izuku falling into old patterns and, somehow, getting into trouble. 

Both of them have a long conversation, and in the end, they agree they have to trust Izuku. He is a brilliant boy, and they shouldn’t limit him out of worry.

To make it happen, they reach out to a friend of theirs for help. Power Loader is the teacher responsible for managing the support course at U.A. With his help, they set up an exceptional workshop for Izuku in their home, complete with safety measures, up to date equipment and plenty of space for him to experiment. 

By the end of the week, Izuku has safely blown up a lot of things, and has already tested out a couple of his creations. He proudly shows off his finished work to ‘Raser and ‘Zashi, earning praise and encouragement from them. Finally, he feels that itch is gone. 

On one lazy August evening, Izuku is working on his last project, when Hizashi calls him to the gym room. Apparently, Aizawa is training for the upcoming school term. To be honest, Izuku isn't thrilled to have to… share ‘Raser and ‘Zashi with some random students soon. But he is excited to watch and, better yet, help with training. As he enters the room, Aizawa's fighting style mesmerizes him. Izuku is hypnotized by how he uses the binding cloth, wielding it as if it is an extension of his own body. 

“ ‘Raser combines his agility with his capture weapon in such an effective fighting style.” He rambles, eyes glued to Aizawa’s movements. “Even without his quirk, he would be able to restrain the opponent, that is an advantage, especially if he is against someone quirkless, like me.” He states, earning the attention from the adults.

“Think you could hold your own against me, kid?” Eraser says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Despite the obvious challenge in his tone, his soft smile is enough for Izuku to feel comfortable to counter back.

“Sorry to break it to you, ‘Raser, I would absolutely destroy you.” He smirks. 

“Show me, then.” Aizawa gestures for him to step forward. As they face off, Eraser raises a brow, questioning. “Come on, no gadgets this time? I could think you are underestimating me.”

“Unfortunately, I have yet to build something that isn't totally lethal…” He says…. joking? “And I have to say I do have a deadly aim.” Izuku throws him a sly grin and he can hear Hizashi laughing, enjoying the moment. 

“Very well. But keep in mind I won’t make it easier for you, just because you don’t have your toys.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“The rules are simple,” Hizashi says, stepping aside. “ No-holds-barred, whoever immobilizes their opponent for 10 seconds, wins.” 

“On this side, we have the self proclaimed emo, only motivated by the power of caffeine. The students say he is merciless! He is grumpy in the mornings! Give it for the king of sarcasm… Eraser Head.” Hizashi slips into his showman’s voice while gesturing dramatically at Aizawa. “And on the other side, we have the unhinged teenager! He is terrible at Pictionary! But a master of invention! Will the keen intellect make up for the lack of experience? Make some noise for Izuku! Place your bet, it starts in 3, 2…, 1!”

Izuku advances first, just as Aizawa predicts. He figured Izuku would try to have an early advantage to compensate for their size difference. However, he is not expecting Izuku’s fluid, calculated moves. They are precise yet seemingly random, Izuku has a clear speed evasion-heavy fight style. He is fast to avoid Aizawa’s attacks, counterattacking using his limbs in weird angles, which makes it difficult for Aizawa to properly block. Throughout their match, Izuku moves most to avoid being hit with Aizawa’s full range. In a twist of fighting style, he swings directly on Aizawa’s bad right leg. Aizawa doesn't fall, but is momentarily thrown off balance. He tries to counter with his cloth while making sure he stays steady on his feet, but Izuku is quick to take advantage of the opening, pulling the cloth closer. 

This time, Aizawa isn’t tricked. He is able to wrap the cloth around Izuku’s wrist, using his full strength to yank him forward. Still, he watches dumbfounded as Izuku uses Aizawa’s force as an aid to power up his jump, he somersaults gracefully, using the momentum at his advantage. Before he can react, Izuku is upside down, having one hand on each of Aizawa's shoulders. Izuku giggles as he uses his own weight to bring them both to the ground. Aizawa tries to recover fast enough, but he realizes that the cloth is now restraining him, tied so tightly around his body that the only thing he can do is to let out a sigh of defeat. He looks up to Izuku’s victorious grin, the boy lifting his arms in triumph.

“And today's winner is the one and only… Izuku!”  Hizashi cheers loudly, he claps in a sheer expression of favoritism while Izuku helps Aizawa out. 

“That was a good one, kid.” Aizawa says with a thoughtful look on his face. “Your fighting style… you haven’ had any formal training.” 

It isn’t a question, Izuku nods nonetheless.“All I know comes from practice.”

“Practice?” Hizashi asks, intrigued.

“I was the best fighter in Pops’ fight club. Even without my weapons.” He says proudly. The adults exchange a glance, deciding to address it later.

“You’ve got so much potential.” Aizawa ruffles Izuku 's hair. “Have you ever thought about savate? Using your feet actively in fights? You have a lot more strength on your lower body.” Aizawa asks excitedly in his own way. “That would make a difference, if you’re close to your opponent. What do you think about training with us?”

“I think you should bring your devices next time.” Hizashi adds. “It would be interesting to see how you handle lower-range confrontations with them.”

“I would love to.” He says excitedly. His eyes light up with inspiration.“Actually, I just had an idea from our wrestling. I cannot wait to work on it.” 

“I don’t have to remind you to not stay up too late, do I?” Aizawa asks, he has had enough nights of coming home to Izuku being wide awake, lost in time in his workshop.

“I promise not too late! I will be in bed maybe by one or two AM.” It’s not ideal, but Aizawa figures it is the best he can have for now. 

Izuku spends the next few weeks engrossed in his latest idea. He has been so absorbed in his work that, by the time he finishes it — on a Wednesday morning — he dashes through the house searching for ’Raser and ‘Zashi, only to remember a couple of moments later that they are at U.A. for the rest of the day. 

A little deflated, he finds Cleo and decides to play with her a little bit using his new gadget, after all, it isn’t something only destructive, it has a lot of potential to be a helpful tool. By the end of the afternoon, Cleo is lounging tiredly at his feet when he finally hears the familiar sound of a car pulling into the driveway. He skips his steps to the front door, excitedly calling for them. Izuku will never get over how they both seem so happy to see him when they come home from school. No matter how tired they seemed, they would always smile warmly at Izuku and ask how his day went. 

Before they open the door, he greets them on their front porch. 

“Hey, kid,” Aizawa smiles expectantly.

“‘Raser, ‘Zashi. I’ve finished it!” He beams. “My masterpiece is alive!” He lifts his hands, showing his tendril-like creation move. He has his device coupled to his back, being able to have tendrils come from anywhere he wants, similar to Aizawa’s own cloth. “I call it ‘Blackwhip’.”

“Wow, Izuku…,” Hizashi says speechless, they follow Blackwhip with their eyes, its energy-like fluid form hollowing around him, naturally moving on its own. “This is incredible! Did you get the idea from seeing Shota’s capture cloth in action?”

“Yes,” He smiles shyly, a light blush making his freckles pop. “I was amazed by how his cloth seemed to follow his thoughts that I figured: I could come up with something that would follow my thoughts.” 

“Of course you would think that.” Hizashi claims, grinning.

“Then, while I was working on it, I kind of had this hallucination, some guy called Banjo, he talked a lot about being one with Blackwhip, not just controlling him.” 

“I’m honored to have been part of your inspiration, Izuku.” Aizawa speaks softly. “How does it work?”

“To put it simply, It's interlinked with my mind. I don’t need to consciously instruct it, it purely follows my instincts. It’s supposed to be so connected with me that the response time will be nearly zero.” He explains smiling at the surprised sound he gets from them.

“The hardest part was choosing the material. I needed something fluid enough to match my movements, while being light,  to not weigh me down. I ended up coming across this brand of nanobots, they've worked perfectly since day one. Once I programmed them, they became completely in sync with me.” Izuku explains, proudly watching the tendrils move seamlessly.

“It’s truly amazing, Izuku.” Aizawa says noting how Blackwhip gently coils around his wrist.

“I could probably build on for you, too.” He offers.

“Thanks, kid, but it took me six years for me to figure out my fighting style with the cloth, I will go down with it.”

“Fair enough.” Izuku chuckles.  

Despite their hectic schedules, they make time to train with Izuku, as he now has to figure out how to fight with Blackwhip. 

“Before we can incorporate Blackwhip into your fighting style, we need to make sure you are fully comfortable with it.”  Aizawa says a few days later. 

“We even came up with a game to help with your control of it.” Hizashi continues, clearly delighted. “The game is called ‘Catch-a-Cat’” Izuku raises his eyebrows, interested.

“Our five little felines will be running lose around the house, and your job is to catch each one using Blackwhip.” Hizashi continues. 

“Don’t you think it would be better if we did it in a more… open space?” Izuku gestures to the packed living room.”

“Of course not!” Aizawa says, waving the idea away. “In a real life scenario, you would have to operate Blackwhip in a chaotic environment, like taking civilians to a safe place while deflecting objects around the scene. To give you a more accurate picture, we’ve filled the place with the most fragile objects we could find. We imagined it would be an incentive for you, as you wouldn’t want to break one of Hizashi’s beloved vases, now would you?”

“Of course not.” Thrilled at the chance to aprimorate Blackwhip, Izuku doesn't realize how this exercise is so similar to an actual hero training. 

They play this game until late at night, until Izuku is able to move like one with Blackwhip. The task is harder than he had expected. While Matcha doesn't even try to run away from Blackwhip, BonBon and Pancake put up a fight over the tendrils coming from the back of his hands. At one point, they dart in circles around the couch, making him lose sight of Catsby in the process. The highlight of the day comes when ‘Zashi takes Cleo in his arms and sprints across the room from Izuku, accidentally knocking over one of his ceramic bows. Blackwhip proves its worth by wrapping around Izuku’s hand, becoming an unexpected yet effective help at cleaning up the mess. 

By Izuku's fifth month living with them, they've built a surprisingly natural bond. It should be weird, how easily they settle into their comfortable rhythm… as a family. Izuku now takes the public transport to his therapy sessions, Hizashi encouraged his independence and suggested that he should explore the city. Izuku enjoys it, he often leaves earlier than he has to, making sure he has enough time to grab a coffee and window shop for a bit. He also takes his time coming back, using the extra moment to pull himself together after his sessions. 

But, on Izuku’s 53rd therapy session, he doesn't come home at his usual time. 

Aizawa sits on the couch, fidgeting with his phone, pondering if he should call him or give him space. His worried expression does not escape his husband.

“I think he just needs a little more time for himself. He will be home soon enough.” Hizashi says softly, trying to ease his mind. In a swift move, he wraps his arms around him tightly.

“What if something happened to him and he can’t get in touch with us?” Aizawa asks, even though he has already combed through the news for reports of villain attacks involving a teenager, there’s nothing.

“I’m sure he is fine. Let’s just wait another half hour before we call him.” Hizashi reasons. “We don’t want him to feel suffocated.” 

Aizawa exhales sharply. “What if...” He hesitates. “What if he decided to go away? What if he is not coming back?”

“That’s not like him,” Hizashi’s voice falters slightly. “He would have talked to us first. Let’s give him a bit more time.” He says more certainly. 

The moon hangs high outside, washing the room white. They stay silently waiting, Aizawa notes that it has been a while since the house has stayed this quiet.  Fifteen minutes later, Aizawa's phone rings, the screen lighting up with ‘Problem Child’. He answers immediately. 

“Put on the speaker, Shota!” Hizashi says. When they hear a shallow breathing through the speaker phone, they sigh in relief.  “Izuku! Are you okay?”

“Has something happened?” Aizawa adds.

“Hey, guys,” Izuku’s voice is shaky. “I’m fine. Everything is… okay.” A quiet sob follows.

“Where are you, kid?” 

“I don’t… know.” Izuku admits. “I think I got lost.” His voice is distant, as if his mind is somewhere else.

“It’s okay, honey,” Hizashi says soothingly. “We will come get you.”

“Izuku, send us your location, and stay put,” Aizawa instructs. “We will be there as fast as possible.”

“Can we… could you stay on the phone with me until you get here?” Izuku’s voice trembles. “I’m scared that I’m just imagining your voices.”

“Of course we can.” Hizashi assures him without hesitation.

They rush to the car, speeding throughout the streets while scanning the passersby for a glimpse of green hair.

“There he is!” Hizashi spots him, he points to a figure curled up on the pavement, head on his knees and his green eyes distant, Blackwhip settles protectively around him, armoring his body against outside threats. They approach him cautiously, not wanting to startle him.

“Hey, kid.” Aizawa calls him gently, drawing his tear-streaked face upwards. 

“It’s us, Izuku. We are here with you.”

Izuku doesn't respond right away, his vacant expression fades into a searching one. Hizashi kneels beside him, tapping his shoulder gently three times. With each tap, Izuku seems to  inch closer to reality.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers through a sob. “I got lost.” His whole body shakes from his crying as he tries to make himself small to fit Hizashi’s arm.

“It’s okay, Izuku. It happens.” Aizawa says sitting on Izuku’s other side. He wraps his arms around him, too, holding Izuku tightly between them. They both feel Blackwhip reaching out softly to them, wrapping itself securely. 

“I thought I had seen him.” He says after a while, his voice hoarse.

“Who?” 

“Pops.” He replies in a small tone. “In today's session, we talked a lot about my mom and him. When I left, I thought I saw him walking down the street. For a minute, I forgot that he… that I have lost him, too. And when I remembered, I was so far away, I panicked.” He chokes down a sob while Hizashi softly rubs his back. “Kudō tried to calm me down, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t breathe. People stared at me like I was crazy, but nobody helped. Then, Yoichi reminded me I could call you guys... I am so glad you picked up.

“We always will, Izuku.” Aizawa says firmly. “You can call us anytime you feel lost.”

Hizashi pulls him close. “I’m proud of you for reaching out, honey. We are so glad you called us.”

Their steady presence grounds him. They stay there for a while longer, wrapped around each other as Izuku silently cries. 

A few days later, the adults notice how introspective Izuku has become since his last session. He isn't sad per say, but he seems worned out, walking around the house as if he carries this invisible weight on his shoulders, even Blackwhip hangs from him less vibrantly. After reading a book about grief, Hizashi comes up with an idea that might help. The hardest part about his plan is keeping it a surprise from Izuku. He has a sharp mind, always picking up on things, even when they are not explicitly stated. Aizawa helps him accomplish their plan by taking a part distracting Izuku throughout the afternoon. 

“Izuku, come here, we want to show you something.” Aizawa says, leading them towards the backyard.

“I knew something was going on.” He says with a proud smirk. “Is it another cat? Can I name it this time?” 

“I think we have enough cats living in this house as it is.” Aizawa replies dryly.

“No amount of cats is ever enough.” Izuku says as a matter of fact. 

“That’s true!” Hizashi agrees with a grin, standing barefoot in the grass, dressed in loose clothes and his sunglasses.

He gestures for Izuku to come close. Kicking off his slippers, he feels the cool grass tickle his feet as he walks. Aizawa follows, they both stopping in front of Hizashi, who looks uncharacteristically nervous. He waits expectantly as the adults exchange glances, seemingly searching for the right words. Something about their demeanor makes him curious, before Izuku can start analyzing the situation, Hizashi speaks.

“Kid,” He begins gently. “Grief is something we cannot escape from.” Izuku exhales sharply as he listens.

“Instead of trying to run from it, we could think of it as a way to honor the love we shared. No love is ever lost. I know this pain doesn’t go away, sometimes it tears you apart, but I promise you, it becomes bearable.” Hizashi says calmly. “To help it become tolerable, we thought we could have a memorial here. For her, and for your Pops. So anytime you miss them, you will have a place to come and remember.”

Izuku’s breath catches as he spots two stone plates nestled in the grass. Around his mom, there are pretty green Hydrangeas, they are as beautiful as his mother's smile. Surprisingly, there is a stone plate for his Pops too. Knowing that the Aizawa’s aren’t his Pops’ biggests fans, he appreciates the thoughtful chamomile flowers that bloom around him. 

“Thank you.” He says, his voice trembling with emotion. It feels like since moving in with them, he has cried rivers. However, somehow, he has also smiled more than it seems possible. Maybe, he guesses, the score is finally even. 

“The day my mom… I wished it had been me instead.“ He admits, tears streaming down his face. “But then, the next day, she appeared to me scolding me for thinking like that, she said… she told me I have to live my best life, that’s the only way she would be able to rest. From that day on, I promised her I would live a life for the both of us.”

The three of them settle together in the backyard, leaning against each other as Izuku shares stories from both his mom and his Pops. The adults listen intently as his words flow easily, and Izuku thinks that it is good to be reminded of how deep the love he has runs in him. 

Chapter Text

A few months later, on a cold night in the end of December, Izuku’s demeanor about his convictions finally changes. For some time now, Izuku has been working on softing his cynicism about heroes, as he can now see more clearly that he cannot classify things as being ‘bad’ and ‘good’ solely based on titles. While he knows there are terrible heroes in everyday life, he can admit that there are pretty good ones, too. Everyday, he witness the Aizawas being great ones, while working to shape exceptional heroes out of their students. Though Izuku is still too hurt to have that same admiration for heroes as he once had, he doesn’t explicitly hate them. Yet, he had never been in a place where he had to defend them. That soon changes on their first trip together.

They take Izuku to be introduced to the hectic life of Tokyo, as he has never left Musutafu. After a long day of sightseeing, ‘Raser and ‘Zashi head back to the hotel, giving Izuku some money to explore the city’s “night action”. By night action, they didn’t mean it literally.

Unfortunately for them, Izuku finds himself in a dimly lit not empty alley, believe it or not.

It all happens because of Izuku’s tendency to meddle, and Tenko doesn’t help when he says something about curiosity and cat. Izuku is walking down the first quiet street he has found all night, when he hears a loud crash coming from an alley on his left, he doesn’t need to explain that he is lured by it instantly.

He cautiously approaches the source of the sound, stopping out of sight when he hears a discussion happening. From context, it is easy to piece together that the one responsible for the commotion is Iida Tensei’s brother. He is not sure what Todoroki’s youngest son is doing here, too, but Izuku is not surprised to recognize that the disturbed man with a blade is no other than Hero Killer, Stain. Izuku has seen him on the news, the man who hunts the ones he sees as ‘fake heroes’. Just last week, Iida Tensei was severely injured by Stain. Although official updates about his condition haven't been released for the general public, Izuku has heard rumors about him having to retire. It’s not hard to connect the dots and realize that Iida is seeking revenge for his brother.

To be honest, Izuku could see how Stain’s ideology would make sense, as his own story has been deeply interfered by the corruption of Hero society. But the way Stain has been chasing it, is not a solution not even being a temporary fix. It is like drying ice: ineffective and hopeless.

Stain’s actions contradict his words, and Izuku can’t really take him seriously. He claims he will be the one cleaning the city of corrupted heroes, yet he bases it off on his own personal beliefs and has a shallow view of what it means being a hero, in Izuku’s opinion. Izuku rolls his eyes at his monologue about being the true ‘judge’ of this ‘failed society’ and can’t suppress his laugh.

“Who is there?” Stain exclames sharply.

Izuku sighs, steping out of his hiding spot. Just his luck, he will be facing a villain when he promised to ‘Raser he would stay out of trouble.

“It’s me!” He announces, his voice brighter than it should be for someone confronting a villain.

The scene before him is a mess. The Iida boy is immobilized on the ground, likely due to Stain’s quirk, while the Todoroki boy is behind an ice wall, in a defensive stan. Blackwhip coils protectively around Izuku in a scarf-like style he obviously got from Aizawa. He quickly checks his mental inventory, remembering he has his two carry-on guns with him and the total of five special grenades.

“Sorry for interrupting your great speech,” He says with a wicked smile, laughing still bubbling from him. “But it is so funny, I couldn’t help myself.”

Stain scowls unimpressed. “There is nothing funny about the corruption of heroes.”

“I agree,” Izuku replies nonchalantly. In this moment, he seems to be the only one who is not confused. “It’s a serious issue that hurt a lot people.”

“I didn’t take you for a supporter of my cause,” Stain narrows his eyes. “You must agree, then, that I have to clean the society from this dirty.“

Izuku chuckles again, shaking his head. “See, right there is the point where you miss the big billboard that says ‘Lucnatic’.” Izuku interrupts him. “You must hold yourself so highly to think you are qualified to judge anyone.” He smirks. “Man, my problems of self esteem would be over if I had one percent of your ego.”

“Only the currupt fail to understand my purpose.” Stain lips curl into a snarl, in a clear sign of irritation.

Izuku nods his head. “Yeah, nothing screams ‘fixing society’ more than fighting two teenagers in a dark alley.” Izuku points out his hypocrisy. “Now, that is what I call true heroism.”

It seems that Izuku hits a sore spot, as Stain charges at him. Blackwhip reacts instinctively, latching onto a emergency stair, pulling Izuku out of reach. While Stain recalibrates, Izuku pulls his pistol from his jacket. He told Hizashi it would be necessary!

He learns that Stain is fast. Before Izuku can aim for him, he has already changed his trajectory and stands close to where Izuku is holding himself up. In a quick movement, he fires at Stain’s shoulder, creating an opening for Izuku to finally land an effective kick on him. Izuku’s main objective is to keep him distant, as he is not sure of how the quirk works, and somehow make the villain loose the big blade he has been fighting with.

“Hey vigilante!” Iida shouts weakly from the ground. “Don’t let his knife touch you, he will be able to-”

“Yeah, I figured letting him stab me wasn’t a great idea!” Izuku replies, narrowly dodging another attack. Izuku glances to his right, and realizes the Todoroki boy has been in the same position since the beginning.

“Hey, you!” Izuku yells. “Are you going to just stand there?”

This seems to snap him out of his inercy. “I… apologize, I wasn’t sure which side you were on.”

“There is a man trying to stab me!” He snaps back. “I think it’s safe to assume I am on your side.” 

They finally coordinate in a combined move, Todoroki adverts his attention with his ice, while Blackwhip wraps himself around Stain’s leg, and Izuku fires a shot. Yet, it seems that Stain doesn’t even feels his wounds, and Izuku watches in horror as he uses his blade to cut through Blackwhip.

“That’s enough! You will regret it.” Izuku says in a dark voice, when Blackwhip retrials around him, almost like it is in pain.

“Todoroki! I need you to trust me.” Izuku runs to the boy’s side who instantly makes a ice wall to give them time. “When I say so, you have to drop the biggest ice block you can manage right above me.” He says while positioning his mask gas in his face.

Todoroki seems apprehensive about trusting him, but Izuku doesn’t wait for confirmation. He darts at Stain, making sure Blackwhip is around him ready to react. Stain immediately lunges, but Izuku pulls out his explosive. It’s only a gas grenade that he has customized with the intention of it being a disorientation tool.

“Now!” He screams, hoping Todoroki gets it right. As izuku tries to get away from where he is, he can’t fully evade Stain’s attack, his blade grazing Izuku’s left arm. Izuku moves quickly, almost missing his timing as Todoroki’s ice cub falls on the place he had been, crashing down on Stain’s head instead.

“It hurts my feelings to resort to lameass Cartoon moves.” Izuku mutters, as Stain moves around bewildered.

“No!” Todoroki screams when Izuku aims his pistol at Stain’s head.

“Jeez, have some face in me,” Izuku says. “It’s only a heavy sedative.” He fires while rolling his eyes at the other boy. They watch Stain collapsing unconscious.

“Would you be a dear and put some ice on his wounds, so I can take him home?” Izuku asks. Todoroki nods and complies, creating a small layer of ice over Stain’s injuries, while Izuku compress his own wound.

“How do we know we can trust you to take him?” Iida questions. To be honest, Izuku had forgotten about him for a second.

“Why? I should let your revenger ass take him?” He shots back. “I’ll be already in trouble at home for helping you, the least you can do is let me take him to someone who actually knows what to do.”

Blackwhip curls around Stain’s unconscious body, securing him tightly, making it easier to carry him back to the hotel. While Todoroki and Iida seem to have a serious conversation in hushed tone, Izuku walks to the alley’s exit.

“I’ll be going, then.” Izuku annouces.

“Wait.” Todoroki reaches him. “Thank you for your help. Could I have your number? So you can update us in the matter.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will be hearing about updates soon.” Izuku giggles by himself.

As he turns around, he glances at Iida. “I know it feels like the only way of making things right is with our own hands.” He begins, looking straight at Iida, who shifts uncomfortably. “I’m not here to lecture you. I just need to remind you that you are not only a brother seeking revenge, you are a soon-to-be-hero. People will look up to you. I’m not saying what you can or cannot do, it’s truly up to you. You want to be a hero? Well, if you had gotten your way, you would have lost your provisional license. And I would hate to see someone with so much potential waste it for a momentary sense of justice. In the end, you will have to weigh it out.”

Izuku turns, wincing as he adjusts the weight of Stain’s body, even if Blackwhip carries most of the load. As he walks alway, he is not sure if he is imagining the faint ‘Thank you’ he hears from Iida.

Izuku is stil under his curfew when he arrives ‘Raser and Zashi’s hotel room. He knocks on the door, already regretting having to wake them up.

“Izuku, what happened?” After a few seconds, Hizashi opens up the door to a roughen up Izuku and an unconscious villain. “I’ll wake Shota up.”

In a moment, Hizashi comes back with the first aid kit, and without a word, he begins to tend Izuku’s wounds. Aizawa emerges from the bedroom, blinking the sleep away as he takes in the scene before him.

“Problem child,” He sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “I see you have captured an A-list vilain.”

“Yes!” Izuku beams, despite his injuries.

“Remind me again,” Aizawa asks, circling Stain while inspecting him. “What did I ask you to do this evening, before you went on full vigilante mode?”

“Well,” Izuku starts sheepishly. “You told me to take care of myself, which I did, told me to buy something nice for me to remember the city by, look at my keychain! And, uh… told me to stay out of trouble.”

“I see.” Aizawa mutters, ruffling Izuku’s hair in a lost of words.

“In my defense! I didn’t go looking for trouble, it seems like trouble follows me!” Izuku exclaims. “This man was giving his big dramatic speech in a dark alley, and I wasn’t going to interfere in it,” He explains, trying not to move too much while Hizashi works on his wound. “But then, I saw how hypocritical he was being, and… well I couldn’t help myself.” At least he seems sheepish as he continues.

“Honestly? I’m glad I interfered when I did!” Izuku says firmly. “Ingenious’ young brother was already beaten up by the time I got there.”

“Tenya Iida was there too?” Aizawa asks surprised.

“I think he was actively searching for the Hero Killer, revenge and all that.” Izuku replies with a toughful expression. “Man, I love a good revenge story, but he wasn't thinking straight. If you ask me, he was just being dumb.”

“Was Iida the only one there with Stain?” Aizawa asks hesitantly, fearing the answer he will get.

“Endeavor’s youngest child was there, too.” Izuku shrugges as Aizawa takes a deep breath. “I have to say we worked well together, but if I had the chance, I would say to him that he-“ Izuku’s analysis is interrupted.

“I have to take care of it.” Aizawa sighs apologetically. He replaces Blackwhip’s hold on Stain with his own cloth. Before leaving, Aizawa suddenly steps forward and pulls Izuku into a firm hug.

“I’m glad you are okay.” He murmurs as Izuku smiles softly, relaxing in his embrace. “We will talk more about this later.” He promises before leaving the hotel room with Stain on tow.

A couple hours later, after Hizashi finishes patching him up, they drink some tea while ‘Zashi listens to him attentively. Izuku and Blackwhip recreates the final blow on Stain to Hizash, when Aizawa finally comes back, looking more exhausted than usual.

“What is the final report?” Aizawa asks Hizashi.

“Zuku is a great strategist.” Hizashi says with a grin. “And Blackwhip passed the test drive with flying scores.”

“I even almost gave a moral speech, can you imagine it?” Izuku adds, pleased with himself.

Aizawa smiles softly. “We have to work on your defense, don’t we?” He says, gesturing to Izuku’s bruises and bandages.

“This is nothing compared with my pain tolerance.” Izuku waves off the concern.

They both frown at him. “Just because you can handle the pain, it doesn’t mean you have to get hurt.” Hizashi says in what Izuku calls his ‘parent voice’.

Izuku nods to appease their worried expressions. In the end, Izuku isn’t scolded as much as he thought he would be. ‘Raser understands that he did what he had to in the situation. His only request is that Izuku call reinforcements next time.

A few months later, the Aizawa’s come home to a surprise.

“Izuku!” ‘Raser calls from the living room, picking Matcha up.

“Izuku!” He calls louder, with Hizashi on his heels as they make their way up the stairs to Izuku’s workshop, the most likely place he would be.

They open the door to an Izuku soldering something up, with his back turned to them, as he sings enthusiastically along to ‘Poker Face’, the song blasting up from a speaker.

“I won't tell you that I love you, kiss or hug you, 'cause I'm bluffin' with my muffin,” Izuku’s body sways in a dance while working on his project.

“Izuku.” ‘Raser says firmly. No response.

“I'm not lyin', I'm just stunnin' with my love-glue gunnin', just like a chick in the casino-”

Aizawa’s eye twitches as Izuku unknowingly ignores him, his words are drowned out by the music. Behind him, Hizashi has started humming along to the song, too.

“Izuku!” Finally, he is able to turn off the speaker and his voice resonates loudly.

Startled, Izuku pushes up his soldering safety glasses onto his head, turning his hair a mess. “It’s me!” He says, spinning on his chair, his smile wide as he looks at ‘Raser.

Aizawa takes a deep breath, exhaling tiredly.

“Problem child,” He slowly holds up Matcha. “Care to explain why Matcha is green?”

Izuku has the nerve to grin cheekily at him. “Now we match!” He says proudly, Izuku picks Matcha up, holding her close to his face. “See?”

“I’m afraid this is not a good enough answer, kid.” Hizashi replies with a snort, while Aizawa remains unimpressed.

“It just made sense at the time!” Izuku insists. “We were talking and I thought: Matcha The Cat is white but Matcha Tea is green!” He stands up, walking around the room while muttering. “And then I wondered how it would be if she would look green.” He gestures animatedly “So I searched around for a pet friendly dye, and the lady in the pet shop assured me it would wash out eventually. And I swear-”

He turns around suddenly, clutching Matcha close to his chest. “I swear she liked it! I wouldn’t do anything she wasn’t okay with.” As if proving a point, Matcha lets out a content meow from his arms, seeming too comfortable for a green cat.

‘Raser and ‘Zashi glances at each other, not knowing how to handle the situation, as they never had to deal with a teenager dyeing their cat green. Hizashi is the first to crack, his laughter bubbling up before he can stop it. ‘Raser tries to keep his impassive expression, however, he too couldn’t help but be amazed by the situation, a few chuckles coming out of him. Izuku only smiles wider, letting the ghost of his dimple appear as he watches them.

“I-” ‘Zashi rubs his eyes, still chuckling. “Well, at least you were responsible enough to use a pet safe dye.” He taps Izuku’s head. “Good job, I guess?”

“I’m always responsible.” Izuku mumbles under his breath.

“Let’s just agree to keep the numbers of dyed cats at one.” Aizawa sighs resigned.

Since then, Izuku has been out of trouble, mostly. And, by the beginning of the spring, Aizawa has been thinking of Izuku as his own son for a while.

Aizawa and Izuku have been spending their day together on the mall together, when he is approached by two of his students, as of course it would happen on a Saturday afternoon.

“Aizawa-Sensei!” A bubbly voice rings out.

“Hello, Uraraka, Asui.” He greets them, noticing how Izuku has positioned himself slightly in front of him, his posture protectively while Blackwhip slithers towards his neck as a scarf.

“We are here to get stuff for our pool party!” Uraraka says, smiling excited.

Aizawa notices how Asui’s eyes study Izuku smartly, on a sharp gaze. “That’s good.“ He replies, discreetly tapping Izuku’s shoulder, making him relax from his defensive stance, even if he keeps an observant look. “I trust I will not be hearing anything… troubling about this party.”

They laugh as if he has told them a joke. Uraraka glances quickly at Izuku, too, and Aizawa can see their brains running with questions about him. He sighs inwardly, he could not tell them anything. However, that would mean they would be able to create all kinds of theories, and he has already learned from experience that it would be worse. Their class, 2-A , is an infamously powerful group of gossip. Aizawa braces himself when he breaks the silence between them.

“This is my-“ He cleans his throat. “This is my Problem Child.” He says, satisfied. Izuku is startled by the introduction, and Aizawa looks tenderly at him.

“Oh!” Uraraka exclaims.

“We didn’t know- ” Asui is cut off by Izuku’s phone buzzing, who smiles softly at the screen.

“It’s the pet shop.” He speaks directly to Aizawa. “We need to pick them up.”

“I’m sorry to cut this short, girls,” He says, wrapping his arm around Izuku’s shoulder. “I will see you on Monday.”

“See you, Sensei.” Asui replies, still wearing her pensive expression.

“Nice to meet you, ahn...” Uraraka utters as they walk away.

“It’s funny how I always seem to run to students in my free time.” He sighs dramatically in a fake annoyed voice.

“Imagine running into your teacher while on a date.” Izuku chuckles, and seeing Aizawa’s confusion, he explains. “They were holding hands before coming over, and that kind of lovesick expression they were wearing? The same one Yoichi and Kudo give each other, nothing platonic to that.” He shrugs.

Aizawa chuckles, shaking his head lovingly at the way Izuku’s brain stores information. Aizawa and Hizashi had never really thought about having children. Their careers were too demanding, too unpredictable, making it hard for them to feel stable enough to take care of another life. It never seemed the right time, too early, too risky, and then too late. Yet, Izuku is theirs. Izuku is their son, fitting perfectly to their small family, like he was always meant to be there, Izuku’s presence fills their home in a way they didn’t know they were missing. When Aizawa had offered a place for Izuku to stay, he hadn’t known he was offering him his heart as well. Now, in his middle 40s, he discovers a new type of love, this unconditional affection.

He wants to fight each and every one who has wronged Izuku, and sadly the boy has been wronged so much throughout his life. Aizawa wants to support him in everything he wants to be, and he secretly knows he would give anything for him to be happy, safe. He just hopes Izuku will let him.

It happens in the middle of July, the first time Izuku purposefully saves someone.

He has been living with the Aizawa’s for over a year, and the summer heat is oppressive as Izuku wanders into his favorite store in the city, a well-stocked gaming haven. Ever since the Aizawa’s had told him he didn’t need to crack and pirate games, and instead he could buy them, Izuku had taken great pleasure in browsing shelves and buying games legitimately.

Wondering around the city, he had found a so-called ‘nerd paradise’, everything he could ever want in one place. Standing next to the game section, he spots it: the newest expansion of Mirko’s World, the one game he has been playing obsessively with ‘Zashi.

His eyes widen in excitement, it is the last copy here. He reaches reverently, his hand hovering over it. Just as he is about to grab it, a smaller hand snatches it away. Izuku looks down, meeting an angry boy, not older than 10, wearing a ridiculously oversized red cap on his head.

“Uh, that is mine?” Izuku says hesitantly, Blackwhip already edging towards the game in the boy’s hand.

”No way, loser.” The boy’s voice is high pitched, but defiant.

“Oh, I’m sorry, angry elf,” Izuku replies in a mock innocence. “I didn’t mean it as a question.” He grins manically, leaning slightly forward to grab the edge of the game. “It is mine.”

“And I’m going to repeat myself: no way in hell.” The boy tightens his hold, glaring at him. “I won’t be losing this to some lameass weirdo.”

“Tell me, Oompa loompa,” Izuku counters, his grin getting wider when he sees the scowl making its way on the boy’s face. “If I'm the lameass weirdo, what does that make you? The fun-sized version?”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” He snaps. “I’m eleven. At least I’m not the one wearing the pathetic shirt.”

“Wow, ‘pathetic’! The gremlin knows big words.” Izuku giggles. “What are you saying about my shirt while wearing a hat bigger than your entire face?”

The boy stumps angrily at the ground, the game long forgotten by them. “Well, you are the one to talk with those clown shoes.”

“Hey! What is wrong with my shoes?” Izuku protests, pouting in disbelief.

“If I had to choose one thing it-” The boy starts, but he is cut off by a deafening crash.

Izuku is thrown into the opposite wall with the impact of something. The air is stolen from his lungs, leaving him stunned for a moment. As he lies immobilized on the floor, he realizes that what has hit him is a car door.

Izuku takes the door from his body as chaos erupts around him. Screams fill the air as people run to the exit, a few bodies being trampled by the crowd in panic. Without warning, a fire blast breaks through the window, making the place light up inside, flames igniting merchandise and shelves. Usually, Izuku's captivated by quirks with fire nature, he has always admired the ones in charge of it. The outcomes of the fire are often difficult to master, they are always harder to predict. In one second, what is helpful could be turned into inconvenience. Right now, Izuku is very bothered by it.

As he pulls his mask into his face, he searches for the possible escapes he had planned earlier, only to notice the fire compromised the building structure. Windows, doors and other openings are now blocked, by debris or by the fire. They are trapped inside.

He runs his eyes through the place, and he almost misses the body beneath the collapsed shelf. Izuku’s eyes catch a glimpse of a red cap and he mutters under his breath, his body making his way to the boy from earlier without a conscious thought.

“Don’t worry, elf,” He manages his most comforting tone as he takes off his mask and secures it on the boy’s face. "I'll take you out of here.”

The boy’s eyes are glassy from pain, but he manages a weak nod. Izuku and Blackwhip start to sort through the shelves pinning the boy down. With each passing second, he notices the room growing hotter, and with a quick glance back, he sees the comic book session burning down, the fire expanding fast.

“There you go.” He mutters, hoisting the boy onto his back. “We are getting out of here.” Izuku says it confidently, even if he is not.

His mind is racing as he searches for the small device in his cargo’s pocket, when he finds it, he adjusts it to make a controlled explosion. Izuku knows it can’t be an explosion too powerful, the building is already unstable and it could collapse on them. The first explosion cracks the wall but doesn’t reach the outside. The heat makes it hard to think, he can feel his eyes burning with the ashes, and his throat closing. But Izuku refuses to cough, not wanting to make the boy on his back nervous.

Frustrated, he fires again and again and again, the boy clinging into him. Tasting desperation on the back of his tongue, Izuku kicks the wall with his heels, and Blackwhip lashes out, trying to widen the small hole from the explosions. Izuku then digs into the wall, his hand burning and getting scraped against the rough surface. Finally, the hole is large enough to fit his arm, Blackwhip snakes through the opening, expanding himself.

With a last burst of effort, the barrier gives way, and Izuku stumbles forward, falling onto the pavement outside of the store. Twisting mid-fall, he shields the boy from the impact as they fall hard. Izuku lies still, too exhausted to move, his breath comes in ragged gasps, but he manages to whisper.

“You are safe.” Izuku feels the world around him blur, so he lets his eyes close, and before he slips into unconsciousness, he thinks: I hope someone calls ‘Raser and ‘Zashi.

When Izuku comes back to his senses, he doesn’t know where he is. Exhaustion weighs him down, and his mind is spinning with confusing thoughts, his head pounding with a relentless headache. Without opening his eyes, he hears Yoichi's soothing voice telling him to rest. He listens, trusting Yoichi enough to let himself drift back to sleep.

The second time he wakes, he is still groggy and disoriented. Blinking slowly, he manages to make out the hospital room around him. Izuku shifts on the bed, groaning as his body protests in pain.

“Dad?” He whispers, uncertain if he can trust his senses. His vision is blurry, hardly making out a blonde slim figure at the side of his bed.

“Izuku?” Hizashi asks startled, gasping when he sees the boy finally awake after a day in a comatose state. “Izuku, honey.”

Hizashi wraps his arms tightly around him, squeezing his shoulder three times. Izuku lets an ‘oof’ sound, but he doesn’t complain, too pleased being in his dad’s embrace. “Where does it hurt?” Hizashi asks, pulling back to study him. Even without a response, he seems to know that Izuku is in pain. “I’m sorry, ‘Zuku, do you need anything? I’ll call the nurse.” Hizashi wipes the tears in his own face. “Oh my God, I need to call Shota!” He suddenly remembers. “He has been worried sick! I told him to grab something to eat in the cafeteria…” Izuku doesn’t follow everything that is being said, but he is contempt to lie there, watching as his dad paces around the room.

“Water.” He manages to get out, his throat burning as he speaks.

“Oh! Of course, ‘Zuku.” The both of them work together to make sure the water doesn’t spill over himself as he drinks it. Hizashi is placing the glass away when Izuku notices another figure standing in the doorway.

“Dad…” Izuku calls, reaching out with grabbing hands towards ‘Raser.

“Yes?” Hizashi turns, giggling wetly when he makes eye contact with Shota.

“I see, it's your other dad you are calling for.”

Aizawa makes his way to Izuku, cautiously leaning down to hug him. “You scared us.”

Izuku rests his cheek lazily against his dad’s shoulder. “‘M sorry.” He mumbles.

“You really are our trouble maker, aren’t you?”

“This time wasn’t my fault.” Izuku pouts.

“We know.” Hizashi says, wrapping himself around both of them.

“You are a true hero, kid.” ‘Raser’s voice is soft, almost like he is sharing a secret.

“ ‘M not.” Izuku replies instinctively.

“You will have to tell that to Kota, then.”

“Who?”

“The little boy you saved.” Hizashi explains.

“The little gremlin.” Izuku whispers as clarity washes over him. “How is he? Is he okay?”

“He is fine, thanks to you.” Izuku smiles relieved. “He didn’t have any major injuries, just a broken leg.”

“He has been asking for you.” ‘Raser adds. “Keeps coming by to see if you have woken up yet. He’s even told everyone in this hospital who will listen that you are his hero.”

Izuku doesn’t know what to think about that, his mind too tired to form coherent sentences. Right now, he doesn’t have the energy to have an inner conflict about the ‘hero’ label. Instead, he only nods to no one specifically and closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth of his dads presence.

A few hours later, Izuku stirs awake from his nap as his dad calls his name.

“Zuku,“ Hizashi says gently. “Kota is here, do you wanna see him?”

Izuku groggily nods his head as he rubs the sleep from his face. Sitting up, he sees Kota appear not a second later, standing shyly in the doorway, a stark contrast from the bold boy Izuku had met before.

“Hi, Oompa Loompa,” Izuku teases, a playful glint in his tired eyes. Kota smiles faintly, coming close to Izuku’s bed using his clutcher for support. “How are you hanging there?”

“Hi,” He greets quietly. “I just… wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Izuku replies, tapping Kota’s head gently. “What matters is that you are okay.”

“But I need to thank you properly.” Kota insists, his brow furring in determination. “I.. before, for me… heroes were these overrated people, fighting for an imaginary ‘great cause’… until you showed me what it truly means. You were selfless when you saved me...” He continues, small tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. “And I don’t even know what to call you.”

“My name is Midoriya Izuku.” Izuku shrugs, trying to make the moment lighter.

“No, not that.” Kota frowns. “What I meant is that I don’t even know your hero name.”

“I don’t have a…” Izuku shifts his eyes nervously from the boy to his parents, who are quietly observing the exchange. “I am not a hero.”

“That’s dumb.” Kota retorts, using the same fire in his tone as he had in the game store. “Of course you are, you are my hero.” He crosses his arms, as if stating the obvious. “You saved me, so I have to know what to call you!”

Izuku is ready to interrupt him, but Kota continues his monologue with a pointed look on his face.

“I can’t just tell my friends that some ‘Izuku’ saved me, they won’t believe it!” Izuku watches him stunned, his mouth hanging open. “So, what is your hero name?” Kota asks again, expecting a response from Izuku.

He didn’t save Kota for some recognition, he doesn’t even deserve to be called a hero. Yet, he couldn’t crush the boy’s heart by saying it. Instead, he closes his eyes briefly, searching his mind for something that could help.

“I.. Deku, you can tell them Deku saved you.” He finally says.

“How is ‘Deku’ better than Izuku?” Kota asks indignantly, narrowing his eyes. “You really have hit your head.”

Izuku pouts at the comment. “I’m starting to rethink saving you.” He says, a teasing smile breaking through.

”That’s not very heroic.” Kota shoots back, but before Izuku can tell him that it is not very heroic because he is no Hero, Kota is sheepishly grinning. “I’m sorry.”

He sees Kota’s expression soften. His gaze lingering on Izuku's right arm, pausing as if noticing Blackwhip for the first time. “Thank you, Hero Deku,” The weight of gratitude is evident in his voice, and Izuku blushes at the sincerity coming from him. Warmth spreads through his chest, it's the first time he feels like he has truly done something right. “Starting today, I’m the president of your fan club,” Kota announces. “So, don’t embarrass me, okay?”

In a loss of words, Izuku's only response is to roll his eyes at him while chuckling softly. For the rest of the day, Kota sticks by Izuku’s side, Hizashi even gets the console set up, and they try together the new expansion they’d both been excited to play.

It’s evening when he is alone with his parents again. ‘Raser is quietly brushing his hair when he speaks, interrupting the spiral of thoughts happening in Izuku’s head.

“Deku, huh?”

Izuku shrugs before replying simply. “He wanted a hero name.”

His dad only hums in acknowledgment, the room falling back into a comfortable silence. But Izuku feels the need to explain further. “Remember that friend I told you about?”

“The one who bullied you?”

“He… he is my idea of victory.” When Izuku feels ’Raser stopping middle brush, he continues. “And I would never admit it to his face, but the truth is… Without intending to, I started talking like him.” Izuku admits. “He was so mean, sometimes, and I… hated it. But my idea of victory is so tied to the image of him in my head, that in those moments… I can’t help but imitate him. When Pops took me in, I became Deku. Deku was fearless, unstoppable, everything he was and everything I needed to be. That day, when I saved Kota… I was Deku.”

‘Raser seems to consider Izuku’s words. Then, he gently says. “Izuku and Deku don’t have to be two separate people.” He softly rubs the back of Izuku’s head in a comfort gesture. “They are both part of you.”

Izuku stays quiet, turning the idea in his mind. To him, they’ve always been two different things. Izuku is the boy he once had been, and Deku is the one he had to become to survive. But now, he is not a little kid anymore and, for the first time in years, surviving isn’t his only priority. So who is he? Could he want the same things he once wanted as a kid, even after everything he had been through? Was it fair to move on, even if he doesn’t necessarily want to?

“Izuku, you don’t have to be forever the same person you are today.” ‘Raser tells him when he has been in silent for too long. “You are allowed to change, want other things and even want the same things you did before.” He says, guessing exactly what has been happening in Izuku's mind. “The beauty of life is that nothing’s truly permanent. We are always growing, evolving.”

Izuku manages a nod in acknowledgment, his throat tightening from the unshed tears. He has been through a few lifetimes in the span of his now eighteen years. He feels like he has died a thousand times, and still continues to come back. Izuku is not sure how he manages, though. For once, he allows himself to be selfish, he thinks about wanting the one thing he knows he isn’t fit for. For a moment, he forgets all the pain, all of the suffering and, only this time, he asks himself what he wants.

“Dad, can…” He hesitates. “Can I be a hero?”

Time stands still, he turns to the general direction of his dads as they seem to absorb his questions.

“Of course you can.” ‘Raser answers with an unwavering certainty. “If that’s what you want, then of course you can.” He says simply.

“Zuku, you already are a hero, don’t forget that.” Hizashi adds with a warm smile. “But if you want to become a Pro Hero, then we will make sure it happens. Just say the word.”

Chapter Text

Katsuki doesn't want to miss his morning classes on his first day of his last year at U.A. It just seems too big, the beginning of the end, or some dramatic shit like that. Yet, Recovery Girl doesn’t share his urgency, her skeptical gaze holds him in place when he insists he is totally fine to attend All Might’s class. He can see why she is reluctant to let him go, but that doesn’t mean he is happy about it.

The whole mess started when he had been accompanying Best Jeanist on patrol and they had to subdue a stupid ass villain with a stupid ass elastic quirk. He may have been flung into a building at the end of the fight, turning into an overnight stay in the infirmary under observation for a possible concussion. But it’s morning now and he feels fine. He doesn’t get dizzy when walking anymore and he mostly doesn’t feel like someone has been setting off explosions in his head. He is oriented and very restless, having to remind himself about his anger management techniques to avoid blowing up the whole infirmary while Recovery Girl examines him for what feels like the tenth time in the morning. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” She asks, narrowing her eyes. 

“Three and a half,” Katsuki replies, grinding his teeth. “Don’t even think of tricking me, old lady. I’m fine.” 

Her eyes remain narrowed, as if searching for a glimpse of a lie on his face. Finally, she sighs, and Katsuki allows himself a victorious grin. He loves to win.

“I suppose you are well enough to attend the practical class.” She says, almost sulking. Katsuki doesn’t wait for her to finish, already standing up. “But,” Recovery Girl says harshly, stopping him from bolting out the door. “I recommend you to take it easy for a couple of days. If you start feeling unwell, don’t hesitate to come back here.”

He feels perfectly fine, thank you. But Katsuki only grunts in an acknowledgment and thanks her for taking care of him, afraid she would change her mind if he gives her a smarty response. His therapist’s words echoing in his head, sometimes, staying silent is the best strategy. With that in mind, he steps outside the room, his phone buzzing.  

Shitty Hair  (8:11 AM):

you comin? 

                                You (8:11 AM):

                                                                👍                                                       ?Where are you 

Shitty Hair  (8:11 AM):

simulation city III;

Shitty Hair  (8:12 AM):

Aizawa said that will be a new student joining our class starting today;

he didn’t say who though, I’m excited!!!!!!!!

Shitty Hair  (8:12 AM):

and it seems that all of the third-year teachers will be watching us today;

Shitty Hair  (8:14 AM):

I’m scared;

the principle’s got that crazy look in his eyes again;

pls hurry; 

Katsuki doesn't bother answering the rest of the messages, already making his way quickly to where the class is. He doesn’t know which extra will be joining them and he doesn’t care, Katsuki will still be the number one in the class no matter who it is.  

Passing by the gym, the bittersweet realization that he will never have a first day again at U.A. creeps over him. Even if he doesn’t admit it out loud, he has found a home in this place. Although, It wasn’t always like that. 

Actually, his first year here was the best worst thing he had ever experienced. When he joined U.A., he had a distorted view of himself, thinking so highly of who he was, only to fall into his face so many times. Every day, he was reminded that he wasn’t as special as he thought he was. His teachers made it clear that what he had, what he was, it wasn’t rare. Sure, he had a good quirk, and a pretty competent fighting style, but he wasn’t the only one. 

At first, it was a punch in his gut, to learn that he wasn’t remarkable. But what started as a frustrating point, became a motivation for him to do better, to be better. Best Jeaniest had been the catalyst for his growth, as everything began with his first internship at his agency. Katsuki found a mentor in Best Jeaniest that he didn't ask for, but he desperately needed. He will be forever thankful that the Hero saw through his bravado and patiently guided him.

Of course Katsuki didn’t change the core of who he was, he is still loud and obnoxious and sharp around the edges but. But he is also mature and reliable and thorough. His huge ego made space for his grounded confidence, and he is still an act before talk kind of guy, but he is more prudent. He shaped himself into someone he is proud to be, and that is one of the best feelings in the world.

Yet, for months now, something has felt… off. The last two years at U.A. means a lot to him, however, he is mad that he grew accustomed to it. He loves being a hero, he enjoys his lessons and even like his classmates (some of them), but for a couple of months now, he has been missing the driven force he once had.

Nothing has really excited him for a while. He goes to his classes, sees his friends, does his job and it just feels so automatic that he has the urge to rip his hair out from frustration. The worst thing that can happen to a hero is to grow accustomed. Katsuki hasn’t even debuted as a Professional Hero, and yet he is already… bored. He hopes for a change, craving the thrill again. In his head, he silently prays that this year will bring him what he has been missing so much. 

“I can’t wait to see him in action, Shota!” Katsuki hears Midnight’s excitement before he steps into the simulation room. “From what you and Hizashi have told us, he must be a real delight!”

“Yeah, he is something else.” Nezu says, rubbing his hands together, Katsuki raises his eyebrows, suddenly understanding Eijiro now. He is creeped out by the principal’s tone, too.

“Bakugo, did Racovery Girl clear you?” Aizawa-sensei is the first to notice him.

“She said I am good for class.” 

“That’s good,” His teacher nods. “Today’s exercise is a modified version of capture the flag.” Aizawa hands him a blue flag, telling him to secure it against his waist.  “Everyone gets a flag, if your flag gets taken, you are out. The team that loses all their flags first, will be the defeated. Any questions?” 

“Who is on my team?” 

“That’s the catch.” Aizawa’s smirk makes him suppress a shiver. “You will only know your teammates if you see matching flags on them. Yours is blue, there are purple flags, too.” 

He nods understanding, this is a clear confrontation exercise. They will have to come close to each other to learn who is an ally or not, before they try to take away their flag. 

Katsuki doesn’t come across any of his classmates as he searches the streets of the simulation city, until he sees a familiar blonde.

“Show me your flag.” He demands, approaching Denki.

“Come on, man,” Kaminari raises his hands, carefully coming close to him. “Don’t you trust your dear bro?”

“No.” He says, aiming his hand towards Kaminari. “Now show me your flag before I blow you up.”

“It amazes me the trust you have in me.” Kaminari groans as he raises a blue flag. Katsuki lowers his arms and shows his own flag for good measure.

“Man, it’s good to have you on my team, but I’ll be honest with you, it’s not looking good for us.” Denki says, falling into step beside him. “I swear, the new kid? Ruthless. I just witnessed him take Tokoyami out in ten seconds.“

Katsuki stops on track, he had forgotten about the new side character that would be joining them today. Although, now he is fired up to crush this person. 

“Where was he last?” 

“Going south from here, on the street with a huge tree.” Kaminari replies, only to stop walking when he realizes Katsuki has changed his trajectory. “Are you going there?”

“I wanna know what the fuss is all about.” He shrugs, starting his half jog.

“Fine, it’s your call.” Kaminari waves him off. “I think I saw Uraraka in this direction.”

Katsuki stays attentive to his surroundings, trying to avoid being seen as he reaches the area Denki told him about. He frowns when he turns a corner and sees green doodles all over the walls, he is sure he has never seen it before around U.A, yet, it feels familiar. Like something he has forgotten, even if he shouldn’t have.

His eyes follow the neon green markings to the top of the building, that’s when he sees a figure standing there, their back turned to him and a hood over their head. Katsuki doesn’t recognize the dark green suit, so he knows it isn’t any of his classmates, is that… bunny ears hanging from it? It irritates him, the way this person doesn’t even try to hide, as if they are daring anyone to come at them. Katsuki kind of already hates them. 

In a lapse of judgment, he fires himself up. If this person is so cocky about being stupid, it’s Katisuki’s job to humble them.

He lands smoothly on the rooftop, freezing as he finally faces the person. And maybe Recovery Girl was right about him being concussed, or maybe Katsuki must have hit his head and died from the confrontation with the villain, because he is suddenly seeing a ghost of his past.

Midoriya Izuku stands in front of him like a phantom coming to finally haunt him after everything. In his head, it pieces together the doodles on the walls, it’s the same graffiti style Deku used to draw on Katsuki’s notebook, back before quirks and tears and Katsuki being a dick. He remembers them from when they were kids, and he can’t believe he had forgotten about them even for a second. 

Deku’s ghost seems ethereal, heavenly. The tips of his wild hair,  in that deep green that matches his eyes, glows like an aura around his head, and he stands confidently, more than Katsuki has ever seen him being. His body is built strongly, muscular arms supporting the weight of a large bazooka, and black tendrils peeking through the collar of his suit. He is much different than the scrawny child he once was when they were seven, yet, freckles scatter around his face in the same pattern Katsuki had memorized when he was four. 

“Kacchan?” Deku asks softly, as if he too doesn’t believe his eyes. Katsuki could cry from hearing again his old nickname being pronounced by the same person that gave it to him. He thought he would never get to hear it again.

“Are you real?” Katsuki's voice cracks, too stunned by the soft smile Deku throws at him. Deku steps closer, extending his hand for him to hold, a habit that he seems to not have lost. This time, though, instead of shrugging it off, Katsuki does what he always dreamed about doing, he grabs it. Both of their hands are covered by gloves, yet, Katsuki swears he feels like his hand is being warmed after a decade-long winter. Deku squeezes his hands, one. Two. Three times. And it finally settles in his gut that this Deku is his Deku.

Katsuki wants to ask questions, wants to apologize, wants to scream at him for disappearing so suddenly and before anything, wants to make sure he will not leave ever again. But, in a blur of motion, he is being tackled to the ground with a loud thud.

“Fuck.” Katsuki says confused. He finds himself pinned to the floor, Deku on top of him, straddling Katsuki’s body in one swift calculated move. His eyes track Deku’s hands as they follow a path towards his waist, and that’s when he realizes he is going for his flag.

“Not so fast, Deku.” Katsuki restrain his wandering hand, pushing himself up to invert their positions. Before he can press the advantage, the black tendril thing comes from Deku’s hand and slithers its way getting Deku far from him. He watches when Deku pulls out two devices from his belt, hurling them at Katsuki. Instinct kicks in, and he detonates them before they can touch him. However, it doesn’t stop them from releasing a thick green gas, obscuring his vision range. 

Cursing under his breath, Katsuki propels himself upward, searching for Deku on the rooftop. It’s only as he rovers the scene  that he understands the mistake he has made. By trying to get a clear view from the sky, Katsuki made himself an easy target for Deku. It’s a second too late when he spots the glint of Deku’s Bazooka before it fires at him. Instead of trying to escape from it, Katsuki lunges forward, grabbing the missle suspended mid-air, using it as a pivot axle. He crashes down fast, blasting forward to break his fall, but he doesn’t realize Deku’s speed. A firm grip on his heel pulls him off balance, and for the second time, he finds himself slammed to the ground. Gritting his teeth, he twists his body, finally pinning Deku under him. Katsuki secures both his hands over his green curls and locks Deku’s legs with his knees. They are both panting hard, their chests rising and lowering on their own made up ritm.

“It’s over, shitty nerd.” Between strangled breathing, Katsuki says looking directly into Deku’s eyes. As tension crackles the air, he watches the exact moment Deku’s lips curve in a sly smile, the corner of his eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Sorry, Kacchan,” Deku says, his voice soft and triumphant. “I have been holding onto this for a while.” With deliberate slowness, he opens his right hand, revealing Katsuki’s blue flag. 

Katsuki's eyes widen, his breath hitching in surprise. He hadn’t felt his flag being touched at all. Releasing his hold on Deku, he searches his waist, confirming that his flag is indeed gone. In his moment of disbelief, Deku flips their positions, effortlessly rising on his feet. 

“I was just having so much fun.” He continues, a playful smirk tugging his lip. “I wanted to wrestle for a little longer.”

“End of the exercise,” Katsuki is still disoriented when Aizawa’s voice resonates around them. “The purple team wins.” He lies there while the simulated city dissolves into the bare training room.

The chatter of his classmates animatedly rings towards him, but it is Deku’s outstretched hand that catches his attention. Without hesitation, Katsuki accepts the offer, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

“Oh, I see you have worked on your inferiority issues.” Deku remarks casually, his grip lingering over Katsuki's hand.

Katsuki takes a deep breath, concentrating on counting to ten in his head, just like his therapist taught him. It annoys him, how fast Deku can get under his skin.

“I want a rematch.” He declares firmly. 

Deku tilts his head, as if he has been taking mental notes. “It seems it is not perfect, yet.” He muses, an infuriating glint in his eyes.

Katsuki can hear Denki snickering behind him, and his hands twitch from the urge to blast something, or someone, as quickly as possible, thank you. 

In a few seconds, the entire class crowds Deku, invading his personal space and asking questions. Katsuki notices in mounting horror Round Cheeks trying to touch Deku’s black tendrils, startling the boy into flinching. They don't realize the way Deku’s eyes dart around, searching for a way to escape them. Katsuki bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from screaming at them to back off. He tastes blood as he watches Deku being uncomfortable. His fists clench tightly, sparks flickering at his palms. However, relief washes over him when the teachers finally arrive, All Might striding through the crowd, his strong wide body parting the circle of students like the Red Sea. 

“Young Midoriya, may I have a word with you?” All Might asks. Deku nods without hesitation, following him out of the room. Katsuki frowns, finding his response bizarre. The Deku he grew up with would’ve been trembling from excitement,  probably crying and throwing up, at the mere thought of being in the presence of All Might. This Deku, however, is composed, walking in a relaxed demeanor as he follows their idol. He seems strangely unfazed, wearing a mask of nonchalant that gnaws at Katsuki nerves. 

“Class dismissed.” Aizawa announces, even though his gaze follows All Might and Deku. “Tomorrow we will discuss the results of today’s exercise further.”

Katsuki waves off his friends, choosing to walk back to the dorms alone. He has a lot to process, and he doesn’t have the energy necessary to humor his friends. As he paces the outside of the building, he catches a glimpse of green. For a heart-stopping moment, Katsuki watches Deku leap from the tenth floor window. Katsuki prepares himself to blast himself upward to catch him, but his panic subsides not a second later, when tendrils unfurl from Deku’s back, lowering him gracefully to the floor. Katsuki quietly follows him, observing Deku landing, his  arms crossed and lips pouting as he mutters to himself. 

“Any good reason for you to throw yourself out of the window?” Katsuki asks, keeping his tone calmly to avoid spooking him. Deku’s head snaps to his direction, a confused expression on his face. Katsuki stays still as Deku steps towards him, the tip of their feet touching lightly. Deku raises his hand to Katsuki's shoulder, brushing it gently in a barely there contact. Finally, when Deku retreats a few inches, Katsuki feels like he is breathing again.  

“I don’t know if I can be a hero.” Deku replies, and Katsuki frowns at his defeated tone.

“That doesn’t seem like you, at all.” 

“Well, people change.” Deku says defensive, almost petulant. 

“Yeah, people change,” Katsuki nods his head in agreement, after all he has changed a lot. “But not that about you.” He states firmly, shrugging his shoulders.

Silence settles between them. Deku stares at the ground, mumbling something so softly that it is incomprehensible for Katsuki to catch. 

“Dek-Izuku.” Katsuki says, forcing the name out with effort. Deku’s attention is pulled towards him again, and Katsuki exhales shakely. “Listen, I-”

“Problem child, there you are,” Aizawa calls out, quickly reaching them. He eyes Katsuki questionly, but doesn’t say anything. “What have we talked about running away not being a healthy coping mechanism?” Katsuki’s brows knit together as Aizawa reaches for Deku’s shoulder in an odd familiarity. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, Dad.” Izuku says sheepishly, batting his wide green eyes. Katsuki watches in disbelief as Aizawa visibly softens. 

“It’s fine,” Aizawa sighs. “All that matters is your well-being.” Katsuki gapes, stunned by how Aizawa easily folds. Today is a strange day, Katsuki thinks, as he has never seen Aizawa let anyone get away without a scolding. “We need to get going.” Aizawa adds, briefly glancing at Katsuki again. 

Izuku turns smoothly, waving Katsuki goodbye, and Katsuki has to stop himself from grabbing him. He wants to reach out and hold Deku in place, not letting him out of his sight ever again. Deep down, he is too afraid that once Deku is not at an arm's length from him, he is going to get away again.

“Can we catch up,” Katsuki says instead, not wanting to make a fool of himself in front of Aizawa-sensei. “Later?” 

Deku glances back, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah.” He says softly, before continuing on. 

As Izuku and his dad walk away, Aizawa glances at Izuku periodically. But it is only on the safety of their car that he finally  breaks the silence. 

”Do you two know each other?” 

Izuku tilts his head thoughtfully. “Remember that friend I told you about?” Izuku asks, watching realization dawn on his dad’s face. For some reason, Aizawa couldn't see the Bakugo he knows being the one to first call Izuku ‘Deku’. Sure, Bakugo has a temper and a strong personality, but he is not hateful. “I’m sorry if I interrupted anything.”

“Trust me, you saved me from a complete meltdown.” Izuku dismisses his apology. “Kudō and Tenko were making fun of Kacchan while Yochi was screaming at me to-, well, never mind.” He cuts himself off, gesturing vaguely. “The point is, you saved me from big emotions I’m not sure I could unpack without a massive hammer in my hands.” Izuku finishes with a nod.

“You are welcome, then.” Aizawa chuckles lightly. “Are you still up for the debriefing with the class tomorrow morning? I think that your insights will be extremely helpful.”

“Are you kidding me?” Izuku‘s face lights up, he claps his hands in excitement. “I got to physically humiliate them and I still get to verbally embarrass them, too? That will be too much fun!” 

Aizawa smirks, rasing a brow. “I think it would be nice if you take it easy on tearing them down.” He suggests. “Remember, they are your classmates now, it would be nice if you could make a few friends from them.”

When Katsuki finally reaches the dorm building, he debates turning around instantanily as he enters the common area and faces the look his four morons give him. 

“Hey, Bakubro.” Katsuki eyes Eijiro suspiciously as his friend smiles, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Care to explain to us what was that about?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He replies quietly, trying to get away from Eijiro’s grasp.

“Oh, please.” Mina giggles loudly. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Denki and Sero jumping into the couch.

“Are you real?” Denki dramatically asks Sero with a pained expression, in a supposedly impersonation of Katsuki. 

“Kacchan?” Sero breathes out, extending his hand towards Denki in a mock desperation, and Katsuki hates them. He crosses his arms, watching as Denki grabs Sero’s hands only to be thrown to the floor.

“Haha, very funny.” He grumbles, rolling his eyes as the four of them laugh exaggeratedly, way out of proportion, if Katsuki is being honest. 

“Bakubabes, you know you can talk to us about it,” Mina says, dragging him to sit on the couch. “We saw you almost getting emotional for a sec there.” 

“I swear I got frightened by your expression, please never make that face ever again.”  

“Why don't you go there in the corner and shove your whole fist into your own mouth, Tape Face?” Katsuki retorts, even though there is no bite to it.

“Regressing to first-year nickname?” Sero asks, sitting beside him. “It is really serious, then.”

“Bro, it’s fine, you don’t have to tell us anything… We just got worried about it.”

That’s why Eijiro is Katsuki’s best friend. He doesn’t know why an easygoing lad with sunshine coming out of his ass decided to stick with him, but Katsuki is glad Eijiro forced a friendship out of him, bringing together his three other friends. It made him less lonely, and throughout their friendship, they showed him that there is strength in numbers. 

Sighing exhaustedly, Katsuki stares at his hands. “Deku is… someone I used to know.” He frowns, the way he puts it doesn’t seem right. “We grew up together,” Katsuki’s voice catches, he feels Mina’s comforting hand softly touching his knee. “But when we were seven, he… disappeared.” 

“He was with his mom when she was killed by a villain, and he vanished.” His voice lowers, his chest tightens from the memory. “The cops told my mom he was probably… gone.” Katsuki can feel himself spiraling, has today really happened? He gets to have Deku…Izuku again?

“I thought I would never see him again.” He admits whispering. 

“Wow, and he is the new student in our class?” Denki asks softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Looking very rom-com to me.” 

“Oh, my.” Mina claps her hand together. “Bakubabes fits perfectly in the love interest role.” 

“I can feel the Shojo vibe coming from him.” Sero agrees.

“But I have to say, this Deku person is totally implacable.” Eijiro says, looking at Katsuki. “He is so savage. Very manly.”

“His confidence kind of scares me.” Denki says it like a secret. “Has he always been this way, Kats?”

Katsuki laughs airily, shaking his head. “No, this is an entirely new Deku.” He claims. 

Buried memories plays behind his eyes, blurs of happiness, two kids enjoying the river on summer days. Never stopping laughter bubbling around them, wide green hair swaying in waves as they raced around the trees, and fat tears in emerald eyes when the always clumsy boy scraped his knee, followed by kisses from his Kacchan for making it better. Pinky promises of becoming heroes together, sewing their dreams as they oathed to be the number one duo, someday. After everything that happened, Katsuki had thought that the fabric of dreams they embroidered together were reduced to shreds. 

“Back then, he was a total crybaby.” Katsuki says tenderly. “A green haired kid that insisted on following me around, even though he was frightened by everything.”

“See,” Sero says, pointing at him. “That’s the Shojo shit I’m talking about.” 

Morning arrives not fast enough, and Katsuki finds himself staring unwavering at the classroom door. The first lesson is about to start, and Izuku still hasn’t shown up. Aizawa-sensei being a few minutes late isn’t unusual, as he always takes the first five minutes of the day to grab his coffee from the teacher’s lounge. But, Katsuki isn’t waiting for Aizawa. He waits for Deku to show up, desperately needing visual proof that yesterday wasn’t some cruel vivid illusion conjured by his imagination. 

“Are you eager to see your boyfriend again?“ Denki asks with a teasing glint, blinking rapidly as he holds his face in admiration.

Katsuki doesn’t dignify him with a response, his head snapping towards the door the moment it cracks open. Aizawa-sensei strides in with his coffee in hands, Izuku following close behind. Katsuki is mesmerized by the vision of U.A’s uniform hugging Izuku's arms and legs tightly, his eyes lingering on familiar red shoes. Izuku steps into the room with the same confidence he displayed yesterday, his gaze wandering around, as though cataloging everything, and his mouth moving slightly, if Katsuki focuses enough, he can almost hear Izuku mumbling. Then, their eyes meet.

Izuku winks smoothly at him, Katsuki instantly adverting his stare, as he feels the tip of his ears burning. 

“Good morning, class.” Aizawa-sensei begins, though Katsuki 's attention stays glued to Deku, as he hops onto the teachers desk effortlessly, settling down with casual grace. Aizawa doesn’t even bat an eye. “A few of you got a glimpse of him in action yesterday.” Aizawa gestures towards Izuku, who waves at the class with an animated grin. “But I want to officially introduce him. Class 3A, meet Midoriya Izuku. He is the new hero student at U.A.” 

Aizawa glances at his coffee before adding. “Izuku has already completed the general education curriculum, he will only be joining you for hero-specific classes.” 

Hearing this, Katsuki feels something similar to pride blooming on his chest. Of course the nerd had already finished the curriculum earlier. He has never been satisfied with normal. 

“Today, he will be helping me with the analysis of your last activity,” Aizawa says. “But, since some of you were… enthusiastic about meeting him yesterday, Izuku has agreed to answer a few questions before we begin per say. Be mindful we don’t have the whole day, Izuku will take five questions, make them count. Good luck.” Katsuki smirks faintly, not sure if the ‘good luck’ is meant for Deku or the class. Aizawa drops into his chair tiredly, leaving Izuku to take charge.

For a moment, the class is uncharacteristically shy. Katsuki rolls his eyes when he realizes the same students who had swarmed Deku yesterday, now hesitates to speak. He suppresses his urge to ask his own questions, as he doesn’t appreciate the audience. Finally, some extra raises their hand. 

“Which hero school were you from?”

“I didn’t come from a hero school.” Deku answers immediately, his legs swinging back and forth. 

The class murmurs in confusion until someone else pipes up. “So how come you were able to join us in our third year at U.A?” 

“By nepotism.” Deku states simply, his tone lightly, making it unclear if it is a joke. From the corner of his eyes, Katsuki watches as Round Cheeks leans towards IcyHot, whispering something. The astonished look on Todoroki’s face and the firm nod he gives her are not a good sign. Sure enough, he raises his hand. 

“The reason we’ve never seen you before is because…” Todoroki pauses, glancing between Aizawa and Deku, his expression neutral. “Are you Aizawa-sensei’s secret love child?”

“Todoroki-kun, you never fail to amuse me me.” Deku replies, beaming at him. A quick giggle slipping out before he continues. Katsuki can’t decide what annoys him more: how fleeting the laugh was, how he almost missed it, or the fact that Todoroki-kun ’s question brought it out.

“Secret love child? No.” Deku answers, the corner of his mouth quirking up mischievously. “Beloved adoptive son? More like it.” 

As if emphasizing his point, black tendrils snake around his neck, just like Aizawa’s cloth. The class erupts in delighted chatter, voices overlapping as they react to the revelation. 

“Are those your quirk?” A student finally manages to ask, curiosity cutting through the noise. 

“No, this is Blackwhip.” Deku pets one of the tendril softly. “I’m actually quirkless.” He adds unyielding, his gaze sweeps the room, daring anyone to say something ill about it. Katsuki grins at his unapologetic and fierce conviction, he feels a sense of relief to know that, even though he had been terrible to Deku, he hasn’t messed up Izuku’s head that badly. 

“I still don’t understand why you are the one debriefing us,“ Deku frowns at the sudden interruption, his expression is sharp as he turns towards the voice. “If you aren’t a Pro Hero, and you weren’t even a hero student until, like, yesterday.”

“Last I checked, you guys aren’t Pro heroes either.” Deku says factually. “And you are right, I wasn’t a hero student. But I assure you this kind of stuff isn't found in any class syllabus.”

“And how exactly do you know it?”

“You are boring.” Deku exhales dramatically, waving his hand dismissively. “Next question, please.”

However, the room erupts in an incomprehensible hum, students whispering and mumbling with little effort to stay discreet. Deku remains unbothered by it. He draws his legs close to his chest, resting his chin on his knees as he takes in the class’ confusion. He would curl up just like this when they’d watch together the All Might movie reprise, while Katsuki’s spot would be next to him, his fingers mindlessly running through green waves. 

“Aizawa-sensei, may I speak with you on behalf of the class?” It’s Iida who cuts through the noise, Katsuki scowling at him. Huh? Class behalf? Over his dead body. No one speaks for Katsuki, ever. “In private, if possible.”

“Iida, if it’s truly on behalf of the whole class, it’s only fair to address it here.” Their teacher responds with his characteristic tone. 

“It is my duty as the class president to voice the unease some of my classmates feel about the recent developments.”

Aizawa sighs audibly, clearly regretting allowing this conversation to happen in front of Izuku. But Iida continues before he can be stopped, unleashing the concerns all at once. 

“Specifically, there is discomfort over the fact that Midoriya will be attending classes with us, despite lacking prior experience in the Hero Course. Furthermore, there is also the aspect that he hasn't passed a standardized admission test like the rest of us. And his abilities, especially without his… gadgets, are unproven. Additionally-” 

“Of course I passed an admission test.” Deku interrupts him coolly. Katsuki smirks, as Deku retorts like it is obvious. “Nezu personally evaluated me,” He shrugs with a feigned indifference, his eyes holding a defiant glint. “Quirkless and without my gear, so maybe don't act so high and mighty just because you guys smashed a few robots.”

“And while we are at it,” Izuku adds, his tone holding a whiny edge. “Please, don’t act like you guys don’t have support items too. At least I’ve built mine by myself.” He punctuates with a slight pout, drawing incredulous looks from some of the class and admiration from others. Katsuki swears he hears Denki whispering ‘Burn!’ from his desk.

Iida stiffens, his exasperation palpable. “However, you must admit it’s reasonable to question whether someone starting so late in the institution would be suitable for the Hero Course.”

“Sure,” Deku says, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Let’s hear the suitability from the guy who recklessly chased down a villain for personal revenge,” The class collective freezes, all eyes dart to Iida, who visibly flinches. Katsuki, however, glances at Aizawa, noting how unaffected he is by the revelation. This clearly isn’t news for their teacher. “While this guy had to help,” Deku continues, his tone sharp as he points at Todoroki. To be fair, Katsuki is kind of enjoying the name dropping. “And it turned out I was the one who had to clean your messes up.”

The room falls silent for a few beats before Iida finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… you were the vigilante?” 

“No shit.” Deku replies, bluntly cutting through the tension as Blackwhip wraps itself around his arms restlessly.

“That’s enough.” Aizawa rises to his feet, stepping to Izuku’s side. “I appreciate the courage to speak up for your class, Iida.” Katsuki catches Deku’s offended huff and notices the pout growing on his face. “But let me be clear: by questioning Izuku’s presence here, you are not only questioning my commitment as a teacher, but also doubting the faculty decision to accept him.” Aizawa firmly states, sweeping his gaze across the room.

“I can assure you Izuku’s analytical skills and empirical knowledge will greatly benefit the class. I also believe that Izuku will have space to improve himself with all of you.” He says, glancing down at Izuku with the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “With that said, I hope that you remember he is already a classmate and I expect you to treat him like such. Are we clear?”

The room fills with murmured agreement, heads nodding quietly.

“Great, now let's begin the lesson.”

The dense atmosphere lingers for a moment, but it shifts when Aizawa starts his computer, and the classroom projector lights up. Before them, a slide titled ‘Class 3A 6# Analysis’  appears, although, what catches everyone's attention are the doodles all over it. In the corner, a cartoonish, neon green Aizawa-sensei greets them, complete with tired eyes and a small bunny tucked into his arms. The classroom erupts into chuckles. “Izuku was the one in charge of making the slides show.” Aizawa explains with a sigh, shooting a side-eye glance to the boy, who is clearly pleased with his work. 

When the class is finally dismissed for lunch, Iida approaches Izuku, his stance purposefully. As classmates file out throwing curious glances, Iida bows in a perfectly 90° degrees in front of him.

"Midoriya, I want to apologize for my earlier behavior," he begins, his voice steady but laced with regret. "It was unfair of me to judge you so hastily without properly analyzing the situation. I also want to thank you, for that time. I wouldn’t be here without your support and your words. I feel ashamed of myself for doubting your abilities when you were the one who helped me during the Stain incident last year. I hope you can forgive me, and we can move forward cordially."

“Thank you, Iida.” Izuku says gently. “I suppose I should also apologize for what I said earlier.” Izuku watches as Iida uprights his posture. “But I do think that you needed the wake up call.”

“You are right.” Iida’s face shifts to an embarrassed expression, bowing down again.

“Now I feel bad,” Izuku lets out a small laugh, helping Iida to lift his posture. “I was only joking. I’m sorry for bringing up something so personal in front of the class.”

“That’s fine, it’s all forgotten.” Iida says, shaking his head. “Maybe, you could join us for lunch?” He gesture his head to where Todoroki, Uraraka and Asui are watching them from the back of the class.

“I’d like that.” He smiles at them.

As they leave the room together, Izuku catches sight of Katsuki surrounded by his friends, his voice commanding attention. Izuku offers a small smile in their direction as he continues talking with Iida. He tells himself that he doesn’t want to turn around and go to Kacchan.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to Izuku that Kacchan is now more amazing than the boy he admired. Kacchan is older, different and yet he looks just like the friend he has lost right after his quirkless status. But Izuku doesn’t want to lie to himself. He knows himself enough to admit that if he gets pulled into Kacchan’s orbit, he will fall into old habits, back to his default configuration, endlessly chasing someone who doesn’t stand him. So Izuku makes it enough to watch him from a different galaxy, getting a glimpse of explosions from the corner of his eyes. And maybe, someday, Kacchan’s magnetic field will not be so strong or, somehow, maybe Izuku will learn how to resist it without feeling like he is betraying his nature.

After Katsuki misses his chance to speak with Izuku before Four Eyes whisks him away, he gets front row seat at the cafeteria to see Deku laughing at the nerd table with his precious Todoroki-kun. Katsuki spends the whole afternoon unable to focus on the English lesson, too busy sulking about what happened to conjugate verbs. All the frustration builds up on his chest, and, by evening, he decides to go for a run to burn his restless energy. Usually, his workouts are reserved for early morning, but tonight, he appreciates the extra cardio, hoping it will regulate what the hell is happening to in heart. 

Crossing the path that separates the hero building from the others courses, Katsuki freezes when he sees Izuku leaving the support department.

“Deku?” He calls out, but Izuku doesn’t hear him, seemingly too absorbed muttering by himself.

Katsuki is determined to not let the moment slip again, he picks up his pace, tapping lightly on Izuku’s shoulder. “Hey, nerd.”

“Kacchan? What are you doing here?” Izuku turns, his wide eyes darting quickly from Katsuki’s hand to his eyes. 

“I go here, you know.” He replies, finally letting his hand drop. “And you? Why are you hanging around?”

“I go here, too.” Izuku answers cheekily. At Katsuki’s unimpressed glare, he sighs. “It is Blackwhip, he has been acting strange.”

“How so?” Katsuki frowns, his glance flicking to one tandril making its way towards Katsuki. Blackwhip seems just fine to him.

“He wouldn’t attack during our confrontation yesterday.” Izuku’s brows furrow in frustation. “Usually, I don’t need to consciously command him, but even when I specifically thought about going for one of your openings, Blackwhip would refuse to act.” Izuku continues, not noticing as a tendril wraps around Katsuki’s finger. “Instead he spent the whole fight evading.”

“Maybe that’s because I didn’t have any openings.” Katsuki says smugly, even though he knows it isn’t entirely true. 

Izuku’s eyes spark from amusement, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. “You protect your right side a lot more than your left, you know.”

“Like hell I do.” Katsuki retorts, grinning despite himself. His eyes are glued to Izuku’s right cheek, where he knows a dimple should be. Unfortunately, he only sees the ghost of it making its way to Izuku’s face. “So, you came here to use Power Loader’s workshop?”

“Actually, no. I have my own at home.” Izuku replies proudly. “Dad suggested I find a Hatsume Mei for help. We spent the day working on Black Whip. She is kind of brilliant.” Katsuki scowls at the mention of the girl. Izuku could have come to him for help. Sure, Katsuki’s not a support student, but he knows his way through tools and…stuff.

“So, did it work?” 

“Not quite,” Izuku sighs. “Blackwhip seems perfectly fine.” Katsuki fights back a grin. It would be rude for him to be so happy about Izuku’s clear distress. But also, Ha! Suck it Hatsume Mei.

“Maybe it is a communication issue? Between you and him?” He offers. 

“That would make sense, but we’ve never had this problem before.” Katsuki watches as Deku cutely mutters, realizing how he has missed listening to him. Suddenly, his heart makes that strange thing again. “Unless, what if… Wait, thanks Kacchan! I think I know what to look for now.” See, Katsuki knew he could help. He smirks, proud of himself. But his victory is short-lived as Izuku starts to walk away. Sirens blare in his head.

“Dek-Izuku, wait.” Katsuki steps forward, once again his touch lingering gently in Izuku’s shoulder. 

”Kacchan, You don’t have to force yourself into calling me Izuku.” He says softly. “I’m Deku, too.”

“I’m sorry.” Katsuki blurts, his voice   heavy with sincerity as Izuku’s breath hitches. “Ive been meaning to tell you this. I’m truly sorry for everything I did to you when we were kids.”

“Kacchan, it has been ages since then, a lot has happened after that.” Izuku interrupts him, staring at his own hand, his voice gentle and truthful.

“Please, don’t downplay what I did. I was wrong and I hurted you.” Katsuki’s eyes harden, even though his tone is soft. “I didn’t understand at the time, but I hated you because I was afraid of your determination and selflessness. Between the two of us, you were always the hero, even quirkless.” Izuku opens his mouth to interrupt him, but Kastsuki squeezes his shoulder gently. “I don’t want to make excuses, but in my stupid childish head, I thought that by shoving you around, I could prove I was better. I was wrong, I’m sorry for everything I did. And I’m sorry it took you disappearing for me to realize how much you meant to me.”

“Kacchan…” Izuku breathes his name like it is the most important thing in the moment. 

“And I don’t expect anything to change between us, but I thought I should let you know I regret how everything went down between us because of me.” Katsuki finishes, his voice a lot quieter. Finally, he feels a little better for saying out loud what he has spent years thinking. 

“Kacchan, thank you for your words.” Izuku smiles softly. “Even though I have already forgiven you long ago, it means a lot to hear you say it.” He says, his green eyes shine from unshed tears. “I know you said you don’t expect things to change between us, but… maybe we could start over? Try being friends?” 

“If you’ll have me,” Katsuki replies, his heart breaking by how insecure Izuku sounds. Deep in his mind, Katsuki vows to never be the one responsible for Izuku second guessing himself again. “You damn cry baby.” Katsuki adds, raising his hand to brush away the tears trailing down Izuku’s face.

Izuku wetly giggles at the nickname. “Then, friends it is.” Blackwhip slithers out, wrapping around Katsuki’s wrist, gently holding his hand in place against Deku’s cheek.

In their next practical class, Izuku is already warming up when Katsuki arrives. Deku looks comfortable as he chats with Uraraka, like they have known each other for years. But as he raises his arms to stretch, Katsuki finds himself unable to look away. Both of Izuku’s arms display a long collection of scars. Most are older, faded reminders of past wounds Deku had suffered, they are clearly from different times and reasons, Katsuki notes. But there are a couple of newer too, the reddish tissue replacing burnt skin. It’s the first time Katsuki has seen Deku’s bare arms, and a sharp pang grips his stomach. Izuku wasn’t a hero student before, he should have been safe.

However, he forces himself to move on from the thought, focusing on the present, instead of focusing on loose puzzle pieces of what has already happened. Then, his eyes catch something else, his mouth dries as he takes in green lines tattooed on Deku’s right arm. They start from his hand and disappear into the sleeve of his T-shirt, not following any discernible pattern, the lines dancing around his scars just like lightnings streaks cutting through a stormy sky. Katsuki is not sure for how long he stands there, uncounsiously memorizing the newfound details of Izuku.

The class is spent in individual sessions, until they are encouraged to spar with each other. Not too long after, Deku is suddenly before him.

“Kacchan!” Izuku exclaims, his voice close and cheerful, as he absentmindedly grabs Katsuki’s hand. “Wanna wrestle with me?”

Katsuki takes in his hopeful expression and smirks defiantly. “I will destroy you, shitty nerd.”

“Don’t let your ego forget who won last time, Kacchan.” Izuku retorts, matching Katsuki’s competitive tone. They both agree on a hand to hand combat match until one of them is immobilized. Moving to the center of a free mat, Deku giggles before coming at him with full speed.

Katsuki knows he, himself, is an ofensive fighter, the type to throw the first blow, the first attack. But fighting with Deku, he seems to only be able to follow Izuku’s lead. It’s almost like dancing, waiting for Izuku to strike, so Katsuki can respond with equal intensity. Deku gives everything from himself at every turn, and between being kept on his toes by Izuku’s unpredictable movements and his blasts being dodged at the last second by Izuku, Katsuki realizes he is having fun. It’s a splash of fresh air, to be kept on edge the entire match.

Finally, he lands a solid right hook, his first clean hit on the entire fight. He follows it quickly with a succession of strikes, as Izuku struggles to block him.

“Stop playing dirty, Deku.” Katsuki spits, when Izuku locks his legs around Katsuki’s waist to slow him down.

“There’s no such thing as playing dirty in a fight.” Izuku replies, shifting his weight to throw Katsuki out off balance, they both crashing to the ground.

Katsuki quickly rolls them over, pinning Deku by the wrist. They are both panting, their breaths mixing in the small space between their faces, and suddenly Katsuki’s whole body is on fire as he becomes cutely aware of how they are touching everywhere. They are pressed together, limbs intertwined easily fitting together. Katsuki’s chest heaves, fighting to keep breathing, he is not sure where he ends and Izuku begins.

“I win.” Katsuki declares quietly, a small triumphant grin growing on his face. “Admit it, nerd.”

Katsuki stares at Izuku locked under him. Deku narrows his eyes, letting out a huff. “I will surpass you next time.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Katsuki’s voice is softer then he intended. Neither of them make any attempt of detangling themselves from each other. Katsuki is almost cross eyed, staring at unbelievably green eyes under him. There is a strange thought coming from the depths of his mind, for a moment he wonders what would happen if there weren’t any space between them.

How would Izuku react if they crossed the almost? Katsuki almost shivers from the image painted behind his eyelids, his own nose feels phantom brushes from the tip of Izuku’s nose, while his heart is trying to make an escape out of his chest, Katsuki is sure of it. But truly, he can’t blame it. If he were his own heart, he would also want to stay as close to Deku as possible.

The spell is broken by Uraraka’s voice. “Deku-kun, sorry to interrupt,” In an instant, Katsuki throws himself off Izuku and into the mat besides him, his face turned away as heat rushes to his cheeks. “We are all set to go to the mall, just waiting for you.”

“Right! I’ll just grab a shower so we can go.” Izuku says, standing up easily, and instantaneously offering Katsuki a hand. “I’ll see you, Kacchan.” He finally breaks the contact between them, swiftly moving towards Uraraka. 

“Yeah, talk to you later, nerd.” Katsuki replies, quietly watching them walk away, their conversation light and easy.

When Kaminari approaches him, Katsuki grits his teeth. “Not. A. Word.”

In the early evening of the same day, Katsuki’s finishing his math homework when he hears a soft tapping on his balcony door. His sense go on high alert, he slowly approaches the door, but a whisper stops him from exploding whatever is outside. 

“Kacchan.”

“Izuku?” He asks in desbilief. Has he fallen asleep in his desk and this is just one of his realistic dreams?“What the fuck?”

“Hi, Kacchan!” Izuku greets him cheerfully, stepping into his room like he belongs there.

“What are you doing here, nerd?”

“You said you’d talk to me later, so here I am.” He replies with a shrug, green eyes darting around the room and cataloguing Katsuki’s personal space. 

“That was an expression!” Katsuki reasons. “Or, you know, like through a phone or something.” 

“Oh, right.” Izuku eyes widen, and he looks genuinely surprised, as if he hadn’t thought about that possibility. “I forgot people talk through phones.” Katsuki barely catches his muttering. 

“Well, im already here.” He beams walking toward Katsuki’s desk, casually inspecting his papers, until he suddenly freezes. “Unless you don’t want to talk right now. I’m probably interrupting.” Deku is already glancing at the door, ready to leave.

“It’s fine,” Katsuki says quickly, stopping him. “I don’t have anything else to do right now.” Izuku studies him for a beat before nodding.

“How did you even know which room is mine?” He asks, but he is met with silence, Izuku only offering Katsuki a smirk he is not able to read. “Fucking stalker.”

Deku continues to silently explore Katsuki’s room, his eyes lighting up excitedly at everything that makes Kacchan, Kacchan. He grins softly at Katsuki’s gears, carefully placed on his table, a black eyeliner besides it. Izuku glances curiously at the piles of books and comics organized on his bedside table. He also opens a draw, and Katsuki doesn’t stop him. Izuku catches a glimpse of hero merch, memories of a Kacchan that was as obsessed with heroes as him in the past. But Kacchan’s display now is more subtle, merchandises secured in draws and colectables placed in the wardrobe. 

“Nerd, do your dads know you are sneaking into the dorms?” Katsuki eyes him suspiciously.

Izuku turns to face him, his grin glowing. “You already know the answer to that, Kacchan.”

“Izuku,” Katsuki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want your parents, who are both my teachers, mind you, nagging me because of you.”

“Didn’t know you became such a good boy, Kacchan.” Izuku says in a innocent voice.

“Fuck you .” He chokes out, feeling his face warm up from Deku’s suddenly teasing. Katsuki’s not used to this bold version of Deku, as he grew up with the nerd who would keep his cheeky comments for himself, mumbling them under his breath for no one to catch. 

“Dad probably knows I’m here, I just didn’t explicitly ask.” Izuku shrugs. “Our implied deal is that if I don’t ask, they can’t say no. So I didn’t ask.”

“Freak ass family.” Katsuki says almost distracted, he notes that Deku has a lot more freckles than when they were kids, getting frustrated as he realizes he can’t count every one of them from the distance they are in the moment.

“It’s nice,” Izuku flops onto Katsuki’s bed, green waves of hair standing out against the dark sheets. Katsuki unconsciously softens, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. “You guys have a lot of space here.”

“Why didn’t you get a room, too?” Katsuki asks. 

“They offered,” Izuku lays down sideways to face him. “I declined it.”

“Why?”

Izuku thinks for a second, his voice growing throaty when he finally answers. “I guess I like having a place to be from.” 

His words carry a weight Katsuki can’t fully grasp, but the loss and pain reflected in his eyes are unmistakable. Katsuki opens his mouth, even though he has no idea how to respond. Before he can properly acknowledge his answer, Izuku sits abruptly, his attention drawn to the opposite wall.

“Oh,” Izuku exhales, stepping close.“You still have it.” 

Katsuki follows him, stopping on his side to see what have caught the nerd’s attention. All Might trading card shines proudly, framed and hanging on the wall. The official signature it’s a reminder for himself that he is in the place he wanted to be for so long. Katsuki smiles thinking back to one of his favorite memories from his childhood, when he and Deku got the same All Might card at the same time, a moment that left them both starry eyed, believing in big words, like fate and meant to be. 

“‘Course I do.” Katsuki glances at Izuku’s expression, confused by the frown he displays. “Don’t look at it like it is going to bite you.”

“Well,” Izuku says, brought back from his trance by Katsuki’s words. “Kudō always says anything can bite you if given a good enough reason.” His tone softens with affection in the mention of the name, Izuku’s lips curving into a faint smile. 

“Kudō sounds dumb,” Katsuki scoffs. “An inanimate card wouldn’t bite you.”

“He is not dumb,” Deku says defensively. “He is just… a little too wary.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, a hint of sharpness creeping into his voice. “Is he a boyfriend or something?”

“No, not at all,” Izuku giggles at the insinuation, thoughtfully muttering. “Actually, I have the feeling him and Yoichi have something going on.” 

“Yoichi?” Katsuki studies Deku’s face, smirking lightly. “Now you are just making people up.”

“Technically…”

“What the hell?” Katsuki interrupts, watching as Izuku sits on the floor, making himself comfortable. He doesn’t press an answer, instead he follows Izuku’s suit, leaning his back against the wall as Deku takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

“My psychologist calls them ‘vestiges’.” Izuku finally begins, scrunching his nose in concentration.“They are my brain’s way of dealing with the post-traumatic stress.” His voice is steady, but detached, reciting it like a fact, as if he has already processed it. “They are not quite hallucinations, but it’s the closest way I can describe them.” He gestures vaguely, then lowers his gaze. “Sometimes, I wonder if you are one of them, too.” Izuku whispers, staring at his own hands.

“Except I’m not,” Katsuki says firmly, drawing Izuku’s attention back to him. “I’m here with you.” He reaches for Deku’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Yeah, you are.” Izuku replies softly.

“When did it started?” He asks after a brief pause.

“Yoichi, Kudō and Tenko have always been there, since the day I… lost my mom.” Izuku admits quietly, finally meeting Katsuki’s eye, and he can see the effort it takes for Izuku to keep going. Katsuki feels deep in the space between his ribs how Izuku’s answers are more strangled, as though forcing himself to continue the conversation. Katsuki doesn’t want that. He wants Deku to be comfortable and at ease with him, never letting him fell like he has to explain anything he is not ready to.

“Is there anything I can do to make it easier for you?” He asks casually, hoping to convey in his tone that this confession doesn’t change how he sees Izuku. There is not an ounce of pity in his voice, only understanding.

“Usually, physical evidence is enough for me to separate what is real from what isn’t.” Izuku shrugs.

“Got it,” Katsuki nods. “So I just have to slap you.”

“I mean, I don’t see how that would be the most practical solution,” Izuku replies, faintly smiling at the joke. “But, if that is what you are comfortable with, be my guest.”

“What the hell? I’m not going to slap you every time I see you, you kinky bastard.” Katsuki retorts, shoving Izuku’s shoulders lightly.

“You were the one who offered it!” Izuku counters, his tone insufferably smug. “I think that it says more about you than it does about me, honestly.”

“Shut up.” Katsuki mutters, unable to suppress a smile as Izuku’s quietly giggles melts away any comeback he might have had.

They let the conversation drift to lighter topics, Katsuki enjoying the alone moment with Deku, even if he acts annoyed at Izuku’s endless questions. A knock on the door shatter the calm environment, Katsuki rolling his eyes at whoever interrupted them.

“Bakubabes! I know you are in there! Open up!” Mina’s loud voice is insistent, followed by rapid knocking.

“What the fuck do you want, bubblegum?” He snaps, not bothering to move from his spot beside Izuku.

“Don’t act like you forgot!” She fires back. “You promised you would watch the movie with us tonight.”

Katsuki sighs, already looking for excuses to ditch his friends. After all, he is busy. But, before he can get her to walk away, he catches Izuku whispering under his breath.

“That sounds fun.” Izuku says softly, almost dreamily.

“Blasty!” Mina’s knocks grows louder and impatient. “The boys are already waiting!”

“Fine, fine. I’ll go!” Katsuki finally shouts, already regretting his decision, but he couldn’t deny Izuku a movie night. “No need to get your panties twisted!”

“Don’t take too long, or you know there won’t be any popcorn left!” Mina calls as she walks away, her voice fading down the hall.

“Fucking barbarians eating all the popcorn before the movie even starts.” He mutters, only to pause when he sees Izuku heading towards the balcony door. “Where the fuck do you think you are going?”

“Home?” Izuku answers hesitantly. “You’ve got plans, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Like hell you will.” Katsuki says, quickly standing up from his place less gracefully then he’d like. “You are coming with me.”

“Are you sure?” Izuku’s voice is uncertain, his lips pulling into a small pout. “I don’t want to interrupt your time with your friends.

“That’s dumb.” Katsuki replies with a dismissive wave, walking towards his wardrobe. “They are dying to meet you, you know.”

“Really?” Izuku’s eyes shine with a glimmer of hope.

“Yes. Now take this,” Katsuki says, throwing an old hoodie at him, Blackwhip slithers out to catch it mid-air before Izuku can react. “That ugly ass shirt of yours won’t do shit against the cold in the common room.”

Izuku pulls the hoodie over his head, a soft smile tugging on his lips as he follows Katsuki out of the room. They walk side by side, their hands brushing lightly against each other naturally. The noise of his friends grows louder as they approach the common room, the muffled sound of laughter and conversation cutting through the evening air. Katsuki watches Izuku from the corner of his eyes, pleased to feel Blackwhip wrapping around his middle, protectively.

Katsuki sighs tiredly as the door opens, and they are both facing the horrifying sight. His four untamed friends are tangled together on the floor, in what it looks like a battle for the last popcorn. Katsuki has the urge to grab Deku and retreat to the safety of his room, where he knows sanity is guaranteed.

“Midoriya!” Eijiro is the first on to notice Izuku’s presence, swiftly detangling himself from the confusion and approaching them. “Glad you are joining us!”

His welcoming friendly smile is not enough to keep Izuku from getting startled from the sudden acknowledgement. Deku takes an instinctive step back, nervously running his eyes around the room. Katsuki places a comforting hand on the small of his back, hoping to reassure him, and pride blooms in his chest as he feels Izuku’s posture softening beneath his palm.

“I hope it is okay that I’m intruding on your movie night.” Izuku says sincerely.

“Don’t sweat it,“ Kaminari chimes in, walking over with his usual easygoing manner. “The more, the merrier, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Izuku agrees, nodding slightly.

“Oh my, you are so cute!” Mina exclaims, cupping Izuku’s cheek between her hands. Katsuki watches Izuku’s expression carefully, ready to intervene. But to his relief, Deku doesn’t seem uncomfortable, even if his whole face flushes at the compliment.

“Thank you.” Izuku murmurs flustered, offering her a shy smile. His eyes flicker to Mina’s hair, a awed look crossing his face.

“Your hair is pretty.” He says almost in a daze, slowly moving his hand close enough to touch

Katsuki huffs annoyed. he can admit that Mina’s hair is nice, quite long and all bright and soft and pink. But Katsuki’s hair is damn pretty, too.

“Does it have relation with your quirk?“ Izuku asks curiously. “Can I have a piece of it?”

He suddenly asks, and the room erupts in laugh, everyone assuming it’s a joke. But Katsuki knows Deku is serious. Growing up, Izuku has always been a socially awkward nerd. However, ten years apart, now Katsuki realizes Deku has become a socially inept nerd. In the past few days, Katsuki has become aware of Izuku’s lack of understanding of personal space, and his weird behaviors that somehow manage to be endearing and frustrating all at once. It seems that Deku doesn’t know how to act around people of his age, Katsuki finds himself wondering again what has happened with him.

“Nerd, if you start asking them about hair, they’ll be at it all night.”

“Don’t act like you don’t have a hair routine too.” Sero teases, making his way to the couch.

“Let’s just watch this shitty movie already.” Katsuki’s snaps, going straight for his seat, a cozy loveseat he had scored at a local auction. Deku follows close behind, about to sit besides him, until Sero calls out with a sly grin.

“Mido, why don’t you seat here with me and Kams at the couch?” He suggests, his tone amused. Katsuki clenches his jaw and counts to ten in his head. “Kats has claimed that seat as his throne since our first year. Trust me, he is not that passionate about sharing.”

“Fuck off.” Katsuki growls.

“Oh, I didn’t know.” Izuku says at the same time, already starting to move away. Panic flashes through Katsuki’s and, in a moment of desperation, he grabs Izuku’s waist, pulling him firmly back into the loveseat beside him.

“Let him sit wherever the fuck he wants.” Katsuki glares at Sero, who raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. Before he can add another thing to his list, Eijiro saves the day, hitting play on the remote.

“Everyone shut it. Movie is starting.” He says from his place on the floor curled up around Mina, and Katsuki shoots him a grateful look, sinking in his seat. It’s only then he remembers his hand on Izuku’s waist, but he doesn’t consider pulling away, letting his fingers move mindlessly in a soft touch against the fabric of the borrowed hoodie. It takes a few seconds, but soon Izuku is melting on his side, leaning closer to Katsuki, his head resting against his shoulder, and knees drawn up together, nestled against Katsuki as his wide eyes stay glued to the screen, his face glowing with the light coming from it.

Katsuki knows he is staring, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Deku looks ethereal, and Katsuki feels as though if he lets himself blink for a moment, Izuku might vanish from his grasp. So, he allows himself to stay impossibly close, his fingers drawing lazy partners on Izuku’s side as strands of green hair tickle against his cheek. Izuku’s attention remains focused to the screen, but Katsuki has gave up following the story ages ago.

“Next time, we should see the new All Might Movie.” Katsuki leans down to whisper on Izuku’s ear, his lips slightly brushing against his earlobe. “I bet you have already memorized every line, though.”

Izuku faces him, his expression turning bittersweet as he grimaces. “I gess it has been a while since I’ve last watched anything from All Might.” He admits, his breath warm against Katsuki’s ear. Izuku is close enough for him to catch the undertone on his voice, tinged by something Katsuki can’t place.

“Why?” He questions, tilting his head.

Izuku hesitates, dropping his head, the tip of his nose nuzzling softly Katsuki’s neck. “Could we talk about it another day, maybe?” He responds lowly.

“‘Course nerd, whenever you are ready.” Katsuki assures him, giving his waist a gently squeeze. He wants to make sure that Izuku knows there is no rush, Katsuki could wait. He unconsciously finds himself moving his head to his side as his lips barely brushes against Izuku’s temple, Katsuki savoring the closeness. Deku sighs relaxed, his attention turned back to the movie, not seemingly to mind it. However, Katsuki grins when he feels Blackwhip holding his wrist against Izuku’s side, the boy slightly sliding his head down to his chest in a perfect fitting.

“So, no secret breaks-in tonight?” Aizawa and Hizashi watches as Izuku calmly eats dinner with them, the slowness which he takes each bite is an unusual sight these days.

“No, tonight I have to work on Blackwhip.” Izuku replies with a shrug, as if he isn’t breaking a well-stablished routine. It’s the first time in weeks that Izuku hasn’t inhaled his food and bolted out of the house in record time to visit a certain friend.

“Won’t Bakugo be worried about you not showing up after your match today?” Aizawa asks knowingly. “You always go there after a wrestle to analyze it with him.”

“And I heard today’s match was pretty intense.” Hizashi adds, finishing the last bite of his dish.

“I’m sure he will be fine. He is always pretty annoyed when I show up in his room anyway.” Izuku says dismissively, as Hizashi sighs doubtfully. “And, honestly, after today, I think he deserves a little break from me.” He takes a slow sip of his could tea before continuing. “I swear, I had the upper hand on the whole fight. Then, I fire at him and he stops it. Mid air. ” Izuku’s eyes light up with admiration as he recalls the moment. “With his bare hands.” He adds in a praising tone.

“I mean, the force he had to use to stay stable while flying and redirecting the projectile?” Aizawa and Hizashi smile as Izuku rumbling grows more excited. “It was unbelievable! Then he managed a smoke curtain and landed a nasty blow on me.” He points animatedly at his right side, where Aizawa is certainly there is a purple bruise blooming. “That makes the score 31 to him, 33 to me.”

“Wow, sounds like a lot of fun.” Hizashi muses, resting his chin on his hands while he stares at Izuku with a sly smile. “So, Bakugo is quite a catch, isn’t he?”

“He is amazing.” Izuku agrees, completely unaware of Hizashi’s implications as Aizawa groans in disinterest.

“Come on, Shota, don’t act like he isn’t one of your favorites.” Hizashi teases him, giggling.

“That’s okay, Dad. He is my favorite too.”

“Really?” Hizashi asks curiously. “I thought maybe Todoroki, Uraraka or even Iida would be your favorite.”

“They are my dearest friends,” Izuku agrees easily.

“But Kacchan…” He pauses, a thoughtful expression painting his face as his dads wait patiently. When he finally finds the words, his voice is earnest. “Kacchan is my catalyst.”

After the confession sinks in, Hizashi says. “I get it, kid.” He smiles softly at Izuku. “Zuku, honey, why don’t you set up the TV for us? Your dad and I will finish tidying up here.”

“Of course, Dad.” Izuku agrees eagerly, he directs himself towards the living room, where they will watch an episode or two of anything while talking more about their day.

As soon as Izuku is out of earshot, Hizashi turns to Aizawa, a pleased grin spreading on his lips. “You know where this is going to end, right?”

“Stop it, they are just friends.” Aizawa says flatly, cleaning up the table.

“Once upon a time, we were just friends, too.” Hizashi sings knowingly, laughing at Aizawa’s incredulous expression.

“What did you do last night?” Katsuki asks the moment Deku sits down. Before Izuku can answer, Katsuki taps his hands lightly, fingers brushing softly, and forcefully places a cup of coffee on the table, somehow being careful enough to not spill anything.   

“I spent the whole night in my workshop.” Izuku replies tiredly. The dark circles under his eyes make the green of them pop out vividly. Katsuki avoids looking straight into them, afraid he might get lured in some way.

“Still Blackwhip?” Katsuki keeps his tone neutral, forcing the worry away from his voice, despite his growing concern.

“Yeah, but I figured it now.” Izuku offers a lazy smile, takinga sip of the coffee.

“What’s the problem?”

“It’s you.”

“The fuck?” Katsuki blurts out.

“I mean,” Izuku hides a yamn behind his hand, gazing at Katsuki with an unexpected warmth. “The problem is that it refuses to attack you .” He emphasizes, and Katsuki doesn’t know if he is imagine the slight blush beautifully blooming on Izuku’s cheeks. “Black Whip passed every test, except when it came to you. I just can’t figure it out what triggered it to act this way.”

“Oh.” Katsuki blinks. He doesn’t know what he is supposed to say at the admission. Something about it feels huge, holding a significance he can’t make sense of, and Katsuki gets the impulse to hide his ears, for a reason, he feels the tip of them burning. “Still, you could have at least given me a heads up, it would have saved me a couple hours of sleep.” He tells Izuku, hoping that the bitterness in his tone will mask his embarrassment.

Izuku’s face perks up, his sleepy demeanor suddenly disappearing. “Were you waiting for me?” His eyes light up, a smug smile taking over his face.

“No, I wasn’t.” Katsuki denies quickly, too quickly. He huffs as Izuku’s grin widens more than humanly possible, and Katsuki curses silently Deku’s dimple, that chooses this specific moment to finally make an appearance. “I just didn’t want your dumb ass freezing on my balcony, if I was already asleep.”

“Sorry I didn’t warned you.” Izuku’s  says earnestly, his face too soft and way too endearing for Katsuki well-being. “But, you know, you could have sent me a message, too.”

“I wasn’t waiting for you to show up.” Katsuki insists, he is sure his psychologist wouldn’t be pleased to know how loud and defensive he sounds.

“Okay, I believe in you.” Izuku replies, though Katsuki can see the pleased smile peeking over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“You’d better,” Katsuki grumbles, crossing his arms. “I’m not lying.”

“Uh-huh.” Izuku nods, and Katsuki wants to take the infuriating expression off his face. “Thank you for the coffee, Kacchan, it was very nice of you.”

“ Fuck you .” He groans, turning his head to the side.

After a moment, Katsuki exhales. “The old hag wants you to come over for dinner this Friday.” He watches Izuku’s reaction closely. “You don’t have to answer right now, and if you don’t want to go, that’s fine. They just wanted to say they are really happy you are doing well.”

“Oh, it is so kind of them.” Izuku says automatically, his voice sounding distant as he stares at the coffee. “Could I think about it and let you know later?”

“Sure.” Katsuki is unable to keep himself from squeezing Izuku’s shoulder gently, hoping the touch is enough for Izuku to feel at ease.

Friday night arrives, and Izuku finds himself nervously in front of a house he once knew well. The path leading to the door is still engraved in his mind, the familiar pattern of stones on the ground bearing faint marks from the countless hours he and Katsuki had spent running over them. He feels the steady touch of Katsuki’s hand pressed on his back, subtly guiding him closer to the door.

“You have to stop being afraid that inanimate objects will bite you.” Katsuki mumurs in his ear, his voice low and teasing as he quietly rubs circles in Izuku’s lower back. Before he can say anything else, Katsuki continues softer. “I know what Kudō says, but trust me, nothing in this house have a reason to hurt you. Got it?”

Izuku nods silently, carefully lifting his hand to knock on the door before him. He doesn’t even get a whole knock before it swings open to Bakugo Mitsuki and Masauru, as if they were right behind it, standing there waiting for him.

“Izuku… It’s really you.” Mitsuki steps forward with trembling hands. It’s the third time in his whole life Katsuki has seen his mother crying.

“Izuku, my sweet boy.” Masuru’s voice cracks, taking a step closer to take a better look at him.

“Hi, Autie… Uncle, it’s nice to see you again.” Izuku whispers timidly, and Katsuki could bet on the fact that Deku has spent the whole day rehearsing the greeting.

Hearing his voice, all grown up yet so unmistakably Izuku, is enough to make his mother sob, tears running down her face as she opens her arms wide, a desperate invitation for Izuku. The boy hesitates for only half a second before he runs into her hug, his eyelids already soaked. Masaru wipes at his own tears before wrapping himself around the two of them. Katsuki watches in silence, a weight seems to lift from his parents shoulders as they embrace Izuku.

“My goodness, you are just as pretty as your mom.” Mitsuki says with a tearful smile, cupping Izuku’s face in her hands. Izuku blushes shyly at the compliment.

“Thank you, Auntie.” He says, his shy smile giving him a more boyish look. He looks young and healthy and safe.  “And somehow you are even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

“Aren’t you quite the charmer?” His mom melts at Izuku’s words. Katsuki rolls his eyes, he is sure Deku already has them wrapped around his pinky.

Masaru slowly pulls back from the hug, tenderly huffing Izuku’s hair. Then, looking at Katsuki, he grins. “Good to see you too, son.”

“I would hope so, as I’m blood of your blood and all that.” Katsuki says, feigning an annoyance he didn’t feel in the slightest at moment.

“Katsuki, dramatics don’t suit you.” His mother walks towards him, and holds Katsuki for a moment. He doesn’t pull away, neither complains about the physical closeness, sensing that she needs to hold her son for a bit, too.  “Come in boys, dinner is all set.”

“Here,” Katsuki pulls a tissue box from his jacket pocket, handing some for Izuku. “Once the tears come, there is no stopping you, you damn faucet.”

“Thanks, Kacchan.” Izuku wipes his eyes, Katsuki grunting dismissively at him. He pretends he doesn’t see the curious look his mother shoots their way.

Instead, Katsuki lingers from behind Izuku, wondering the things that could be happening in his mind. He doesn’t know if the memories playing in his head are the same playing on Deku’s as they walk through the hallway of his home. Izuku’s eyes darts around the room glancing around the familiar ambient. Does he recall the big couch they’ve spent countless afternoons together? Has he noticed the new wallpaper his dad wanted to try out? If so, does he like it?

“I hope you still like Katsudon, Izuku.” Masaru says as they sit down.

Suddenly, Katsuki is reminded once again how much he doesn’t know the new person besides him. Years ago, Katsuki was the professional at knowing Izuku, but he can’t say the same at the moment. Sure, he knows who Deku was and who he is now. Yet, he doesn’t know the smallest things, anymore. Like if the smell of homemade rice is still his favorite or if thunderstorms still make him uneasy about the bird’s nests falling from trees. And Katsuki tries to not get angry at the details that have been lost between then and now, telling himself that this is a second chance. A second opportunity to learn Izuku all over again.

“It’s still my favorite.” Izuku says simply, as if he hasn’t just said the best thing Katsuki has heard the entire day.

“You should try Katsuki’s, then.” His mother adds with a proud smile. “He has perfect his Katsudon down to a art.”

“You cook?” Curiosity lights up Izuku’s face.

“Bakugo Katsuki! Have you not been taking care of out dear Izuku properly?” His mother asks sharply, raising her brow at him.

“The hell?” Katsuki dodges her hand, while he tries to not knock over his bowl. “He doesn’t even live in the dorms! How the hell was I suppose to cook for him?”

“I don’t wanna hear excuses.” She scolds. “That’s not the gentleman I raised you to be.”

“Auntie, Katsuki’s been truly amazing. ” Izuku smiles gently at Mitsuki, while firmly defending Katsuki. “He trains with me, makes sure I’m sleeping enough and eating properly. He even brings me coffee first thing in the morning, even if he despises  it.”

“That’s my boy.” Masaru beams, while Katsuki lowers his head, embarrassed.

“Better coffee than that nasty sugary crap you would drink instead.” He mutters accusingly, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“I’m glad to hear that, Izuku.” Mitsuki voice trembles as she wipes away the lingering tears. “I’m sorry im so emotional, I’m just… I’m so happy you are here with us.”

She reaches for izuku’s hand, holding it tightly in her own. “I’m so happy you got away” She admits softly, before freezing in place and her eyes widening slightly. “Im sorry, it was indelicate of me to bring it up.”

“That’s okay, Auntie.” Izuku reassures her, squeezing her hand back.“Talking about it is not as hurtful as it used to be.”

“When Katsuki called us telling you were alive… I couldn’t believe it.” She begins, her voice breaking slightly. Katsuki catches the tears shimmering on Izuku’s eyes, and he silently hands him another tissue. “I swear I insisted, I begged them to look for you, but they said you were probably…”

“I’m here,” Izuku breaths. Under the table, Katsuki’s knee presses against Deku’s. He is not sure if it’s for Izuku’s comfort or for his own reassurance that Deku is still here, either way, he doesn’t move. “I’m okay now.”

“You are.” Masaru echos, too emotional as well. He clears his throat before adding. “Katsuki told us you are living with Aizawa-sensei?”

“Yeah, he and Hizashi took me in.” Izuku replies with a small smile.

“I hope they are treating you well,” Mitsuki worries, gently studying him. “You know you will always have a home here with us, right?”

“I know,” Izuku nods, meeting her gaze. “My dads are great. It was hard at first… for me opening up to them.” He says grinning softly, finally admitting. “But they are truly great dads. I’m… happy.”

Mitsuki’s eyes softens. “That’s all I ever wanted for you, sweetie.”

Katsuki spend the whole dinner quietly taking the scene in. It feels almost surreal to watch Izuku sitting back at their table again, belonging effortlessly with Katsuki’s family. Izuku laughs at his dad’s jokes and engages in light conversation with his mom about their business, and for a moment, Katsuki could almost pretend that this is a regularly currency.

Finishing their meal, they move to the leaving room, carrying the dessert’s plates with them. As they lazily enjoy their piece of cake, Katsuki pretends he is not focused on Izuku’s laughter. He is leaning back on the couch, shoulders visibly relaxed as he smiles breathtakingly at something Mitsuki is saying. In Katsuki’s mind, he can’t help but think that this is how things were always meant to be.

“Oh my, look at the time.” His mother yawns, glancing at the clock. “Boys, why don’t you just stay over tonight?”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Masaru agrees easily. “Better than walking alone this late.”

“Jeez, talking like this you wouldn’t believe Izuku and I are training to be Pro Heroes.”

“Don’t be like that, Katsuki,” Mitsuki replies with a smirk. “It would be for the good old times.”

Katsuki waits for Izuku’s response. If he doesn’t want to stay, Katsuki will make sure to take him safely back home without a complaint, no matter how tired he is for being awake past his bedtime.

“I…” Izuku’s gaze flickers at him before turning to his mother. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course it is not! You are always welcome to stay here.” Mitsuki says warmly, but then her brow furrows, she taps her chin as if suddenly remember something. “Although… I just realized Katsuki’s futon is not here at the moment.”

“Is that right?” Katsuki asks skeptically. He is pretty sure that his futon is perfectly fine in the same place it has always been. But Katsuki won’t be the one to point it out.

“You wouldn’t mind to share Katsuki’s bed just for tonight, would you?”

“Just like when you were kids.” Masaru adds in a soft voice.

“That’s not a problem, it’s kind enough for you to let me stay after such a delicious dinner.” Izuku replies politely.

“Oh my, you are so sweet, Izuku.” She gushes, her face lighting up before her expression quickly changes as she looks sharply at Katsuki. “Maybe you could teach Katsuki a thing or two about pleasenteries.

“I’m pleasant enough with the ones who aren’t witches.”

“That’s the best insult you could come up with, brat?”

Katsuki doesn’t bother to respond, Izuku laughing at their playful banter. As they head up stairs, Deku gets distracted by the portraits, carefully taking one in his hands.

“That was the day we graduated high school.” Mitsuki says over Izuku’s shoulder. “You are just like her at that age.”

Izuku brushes his finger against the photo, wetly smiling as he places the frame back on the wall.

Shaking her head, Mitsuki tenderly returns it to his hands. “Here, it’s yours.”

“No, Auntie, I couldn’t possible take this from you.” He protests, his eyes widening as he pouts.

“It’s a gift,” She insists in a tone that says it is the final word. “Im sure you will take great care of it. Besides, if I ever need it, I will know exactly where to find it.

When Izuku finally glances at him, his expression is much more grateful than Katsuki will ever deserve. Deku’s eyes hold a quiet reverence, and his smile is so soft and sweet, it feels like something Katsuki could reach out and bite into. He doesn’t acknowledges it, though. Instead, he jerks his head toward the stairs, wordlessly telling Deku to follow him to his room.

When they step insidee, Izuku freezes in the doorway, taking the room in.

“It is just like I remember.” He whispers, moving quietly towards Katsuki’s shelves.

Katsuki leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching Izuku mumbling to himself as he roam his room, his eyes wide and bright. Katsuki secretly enjoys the way Izuku walks around the place, like he belongs here, seemingly totally at peace. If Katsuki focuses enough, he can almost see the little four-year-old Deku running around the room too.

“You…” Izuku voices falters, and Katsuki’s attention is directed towards him immediately. “You kept it?” He whispers with incredulity, Katsuki’s eyes widening as he sees the old, slight crumpled piece of paper he holds.

“Yeah.” Katsuki replies, getting closer to Deku. His eyes trail over the familiar green lines he had already memorized over the years. It’s the last drawing Izuku had gifted him before everything fell apart.

“To be honest,” Izuku smiles sadly, tracing the edge of the paper carefully. “I thought you had set them all on fire.”

“I was a piece of shit, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that.” Katsuki huffs, his voice low and almost self loathing. “Not even back then.”

Izuku sighs tiredly, flopping onto the bed, legs dangling over the edge. His eyes flutter shut, and for a moment it seems like he has fallen asleep.

Katsuki clicks his tongue, annoyed.“Why don’t you lie down properly if you are so damn tired?” He grumbles, walking towards his wardrobe.

“Nah.”

“I swear…” Katsuki mutters under his breath, and pulls out a set of clothes, tossing them at Izuku. “At least change to something more comfortable.”

Izuku impressively catches the clothes easily, even with his eyes still closed. Izuku grins and swiftly pulls his own shirt off, his smile widening when he notices the familiar design on Katsuki’s old shirt.

“You seriously bought the same shirt you had when we were kids?” He teases, holding up the black fabric with the skull print.

“And you still remember it?” Katsuki shoots back, not bothering to look at him as he sorts through more clothes. “Freaky stalker.”

Izuku laughs, loud and free, but as Katsuki finally turns around to face Izuku, he freezes, his eyes catching the sight of Deku’s torso. Katsuki had already memorized the pattern of Izuku’s scared arms, the crooked fingers and his two toned skin turning into familiar shapes on his mind. He had learned all the places where Izuku’s sensibility is screwed up, but now, seeing his torso, Katsuki realizes he had a shit ton more to learn. Almost all of Izuku skin is covered by different scars, marks of nasty wounds. And just like vines, Izuku’s green tattoos make their way towards all of his right side, beautifully tangling themselves over the skin.

Without thinking, Katsuki steps closer in a trance, quietly seating on the edge of the bed, as his hand hesitates mid-air, hovering in an almost touch near Izuku’s shoulder. Crimson eyes searches for permission, and though Deku has an unreadable expression on his face, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he only shrugs slightly, leaning closer to Katsuki’s hand.

“What happened to you?” Katsuki asks, his voice barely more than a breath.

Deku doesn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed in Katsuki’s touch. He seems too mesmerized by the way Katsuki traces his scars with the his fingertips, leaving behind the ghost of his touch. The silence stretches, heavy and intimate, with Katsuki committing every line and mark to his memory.

“When they told me you were gone,” Katsuki’s voice is low and raw when he begins. “I thought ‘that’s not possible’. ‘That big brain of his had to have come up with something to get away.’” He pauses, his breathing uneven, as he tries to steady himself before he murmurs softly. “I held on to that though for so long that it became a sort of memory for me, how you got away.”

Izuku listens atentatively every word Katsuki says, but he frowns slightly when he sees once again the self-deprecating smile tugging on Katsuki’s face. “When I was feeling particularly bad about myself, I would stay up at night, thinking about what you would be up to. In my dreams, you were always happy,” Katsuki softens, his voice vulnerable. “And I would be relieved knowing that you had finally gotten away from me… from all my bullshit.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku says firmly, even if his voice carries the most gentle tone Katsuki has ever heard. “You have to forgive yourself, too. I did it a long time ago.”

Katsuki’s fingers stills against Izuku’s chest, his own heart pounding at the words. Finally, Izuku lets out a quiet sigh, his gaze distant as he speaks again.

“I didn’t quite escape.” Izuku says after a while. “That day, it was the day that I died even though I stayed alive.” The addmission lies heavily in the air, Katsuki’s own breath catching in his throat.

“My mom and I went to the bank, that day,” He begins fondly. “She was supposed to withdraw her first check from her new job. She was so happy.” Izuku’s eyes are still distant, as if he is reliving the moment. “She said, Izuku, things are going to change for the better. And I believed her.”

“Until I saw that man walk in.” Izuku says bitterly, anger flicking through his face as he speaks. “He was disturbed… every part of him screamed trouble.” Izuku clenches his fist in his lap as he mutters. “It didn’t take long before he was shouting and threatening to kill everyone in the room.”

Izuku shakes his head. “I was naive and stupidly hopeful.” His voice is resentful, and Katsuki has the urge to wrap his arms around him to, somehow, fight Izuku’s memories for him. “I told myself: heroes are always fast. I knew the response time was supposed to be 40 seconds at most. In my head, I just had to hold on 40 seconds and we would be safe.”

“What I didn’t know at the time,” He laughs bitterly. “Was that my side of town was completely uncovered. No hero protection. You remember, don’t you, Kacchan? How the Hero society relied too much upon All might?” Katsuki nods silently.

”No one wanted to patrol my neighborhood,” Izuku continues with a quiet fury. “They said it wasn’t worth the trouble. They said, All Might will take care of it.”

“I counted thirty seconds when that man grabbed an old lady and threw her to the ground. He started kicking her. She was so small… so fragile.” Izuku face’s twists with regret and pain. “Everyone just stood there, unmoving.” Katsuki nearly winces, already imagining what is coming next. “You said it once to me, Kacchan, how I was always the hero wannabe.” Izuku whispers, before he confesses spiteful. “I wish I wasn’t on that time.”

“My body moved on its own.” Izuku admits.

“Five seconds left until the safe time and I was suddenly in front of her, trying to shield her with my tiny, tiny body. I couldn’t even cover her whole head properly.” Izuku murmurs. “The villain laughed at me. He laughed so hard, his hand reaching for my face.” The sad smile on Izuku’s face seems wrong to Katsuki, and he has to contain himself from whispering all the sweetest things to him, only to make sure that expression disappears from Deku’s face. But he knows better than interrupting him. Before anything, Katsuki wants to understand , quietly paying attention to everything that makes Izuku, Izuku.

“My head screamed 51 seconds when my mom jumped in front of me, pushing me out of the way. She threw me behind the corner, before his quirked actived.” Izuku’s breath comes out quickly, and Katsuki opens his palm in Izuku’s chest, a comforting gesture for both of them. “But I could see it, the moment he touched her arm. I could still see how her eyes dimmed, her face paled and I saw the moment she stopped breathing… because of me.”

Katsuki’s clenches his jaw, every muscle in his body aching as Deku recounts the most painful moment of his life. “Izuku,” Katsuki calls him firmly. “It wasn’t your fault.” He says inflexible, as if he could imprint the words on Izuku’s brain. He leans in, gently wiping Deku’s tears streaming down his face, butefore he can say anything else, Izuku interrupts him.

“It kind of was, me and my stupid heroic sense.” Izuku insists, his hands trembling as he clutches Katsuki’s shirt. “I counted 108 seconds until All Might finally appeared.” He continues, bitter than ever. “My world had crumbled down in front of my eyes, and All Might was standing there, smiling while shouting ‘I’m here’.” He shakes his head, his expression drowning on grief. “My mom was dead on the floor, and for the first time on my life, I couldn’t believe in The Symbol of Peace.”

“And I know he saved so many lives in his career. I know that as heroes, we can’t save everyone. I know that it wasn’t All Might’s fault that my neighborhood wasnt covered.” Izuku’s voice softens slightly, gesturing vaguely to where Katsuki knows is his All Might’s collection. “Yet, i couldn’t believe in him anymore. He was supposed to be the one who saved everyone. But he wasn’t there to save my mom.”

“I couldn’t look at his smile anymore.” He utters hurt. “I felt nauseous at the relieved expression everyone in the room had when he arrived. So I left. I don’t even remember how I did it, but I managed to get out. Maybe through the vents, I’m not sure.”

“That’s when I found Pops.”

“Aizawa?”

Izuku shakes his head. “All For One.” Katsuki’s stomach drops and his breathing hitches. Of course he knows who All For One was, yet he can’t comprehend why Izuku is calling him Pops. Izuku presses Katsuki’s hand tight against his own chest, squeezing it lightly as he silently asks for Katsuki to listen. “I know he is… was a villain.”

“But I remember crying, feeling hopeless and alone, wandering aimlessly until I ran into him in some alley. He was tall, powerful. Yet, he dropped to my eye level and asked me. ‘Oh, poor boy, where is your hero now?’ And the only thing I could answer between sobs was, ‘I don’t have a hero anymore.’”

“The same day, Tenko showed up to make me company. Pops never questioned when I used to talk about people I’ve never met.” Izuku says tenderly, but he gets a hard edge on his face.  “Pops wasn’t perfect, now I can understand it. He would give me tasks to complete to prove myself not useless, he would send me to his fight club for days saying it was his job to make me stronger. He wasn’t perfect by all means.” Katsuki frowns at Izuku’s scars, irritation bubbling on his chest. “But also, he took me in, he held me while I cried, and made sure I didn’t get myself killed building my gadgets. He made me his son.”

“But Kudō never liked him that much.” Izuku adds. ”He used to say that it was on All For One’s core being selfish. I didn’t believed him at first. How could I?” He laughs humorless. “Until I overheard one of his meetings, he saying how I was ‘almost ready for the next step.’”

“I knew he had this antagonist situation going on with All Might, but I made sure to let him know I wasn’t going to be one of his weapons. I gave up my sense of heroism in exchange of not taking part in any thing he did.” He stares at his own hands, clearly disappointed. “I felt so betrayed, embarrassed for trusting someone, only to be let down again.”

“The day I decided I couldn’t do it anymore, it was the day i met ‘Raser.” Izuku admits. “I don’t know what he saw in me, and I’m still afraid. Afraid that they are going to wake up one day and realize how bad I am.” He whispers softly. “But I learned to trust them. It is so easy to trust them.”

Katsuki absorbs Izuku’s words, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. He closes his eyes, counting to ten in his head, forcing himself to steady his breathing.  “You are not a bad person, Izuku. Listen loud and clear when I say this shit: you are good. It doesn’t matter what kind of hell you’ve been through, you are a good person.” Katsuki’s voice comes out harsher then he wanted to. “You have a fucking heart of gold, a benevolent fucking personality and all that crap that comes with them.”

Izuku adverts his eyes, turning his head down, but Katsuki isn’t having any of it. He cups Izuku’s face, lifting his head until their eyes meet. “Even when you weren’t in my life, you were the one I looked up to. I measured every single person against you. You have always been my standard, Izuku.”

Izuku shakes his head. “I’m definitely not.” He chokes out as tears run from his face to Katsuki’s hand.

“No, actually you are so much better.” Katsuki says simply, his tone softer but still resolute. “You are a better Hero than all those extras out there who think being a Hero means glory and veneration.” He lowers his voice, mindlessly leaning towards Izuku’s face. “You get it. You know how ugly this world is and how flawed people are. Yet, you choose to protect them every damn day. You got every reason to turn your back on everyone, but you keep giving and giving, giving yourself away.”

“Stop… stop standing up for me.” Izuku replies through his sobs. Katsuki’s exhales heavily, his thumbs never stopping the caress on his cheek.

“I will stop it in the second you stop reducing yourself to some bullshit role of a bad guy.” Katsuki says truthfully.

There is a long moment of silence between them, filled only by Izuku’s quiet sobs. Katsuki doesn’t pull back. He stays close, sharing his warmth with Izuku. After a while, Izuku begins to move, his breath slightly more even and his sobs subduing into soft sniffs. He wipes at his nose clumsily, offering Katsuki a wet, soft smile.

“I got snot all over your shirt. Sorry.” He murmurs apologetically.

“A damn crybaby.” Katsuki huffs, rolling his eyes, even though there is no edge to his voice.

“I think I’m ready to sleep now.” Deku says, making himself comfortable on the bed. “Do you still prefer the left side?” He glances over with a small smile, already settling into the right corner without waiting for Katsuki’s answer.

“Fucking stalker.” Katsuki mutters turning off the light. He hesitates for a brief moment before climbing into bed beside him. It’s the first time, since Katsuki was four, that he has someone to share a bed with. That is the only reason why he is nervous, he tells himself.

They lie in silence, on Katsuki’s almost too small twin bed, their arms barely brushing as they stare at the ceiling. Their breathing quickly synchronizes, and Katsuki feels his heart skipping. It’s only because he is not used to the proximity.

“Thank you, for sharing that with me.” Katsuki says softly into the darkness. He wonders if Izuku has fallen asleep, but, then, he catches a faint sniff coming from his side.

“Thanks for listening.” Izuku whisper back.

“Always.” Katsuki replies, his voice  low, afraid that, if he is too loud, he might shatter the fragile atmosphere. 

Katsuki doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but his electronic clock reads 3:27 when he is jolted awake. His sleepy mind sharpening quickly when he hears Deku’s soft whimpering, together with struggled breathing. He turns to his side, instinctively following the sound as his hands sparkle faintly. Katsuki curses under his breath at the sight before him. Izuku’s expression twisted in distress, his whole body tense and his eyes still closed from sleep.

“Deku.” Katsuki calls softly, in an attempt of waking him. The boy only frowns at his name, but doesn’t wake up.

“Izuku, wake up.” Katsuki calls louder.

Finally, Izuku’s eyes flutter open. He blinks rapidly, confusion creeping into his face when their eyes meet.

“Kacchan?” His voice is filled with disbelief. Izuku’s gaze darts around the room, as if trying to make sense of where he is.

“It’s me, nerd.” He says, his hand slowly reaching out to rest on Izuku’s scared arm. “We are at my house, remember?”

Izuku’s wide gaze run around his room one more time, before clarity washes over him. “Oh, right.” he whispers, sighing in relief, even if his hands still shake in front of him.

“Nightmare?” Katsuki asks softly, frowning at the sight of fresh tears spilling down Izuku’s cheek

“Uh-huh.”

“You need water? Tea?” Katsuki asks, Izuku only shakes his head.

“Just…” He hesitates, his voice trembling when he meets Katsuki’s eyes. “Could you make sure the window is closed? And maybe lock the door?”

“Of course.” Katsuki doesn’t waste a second, quickly getting up from the bed. He crosses the room to carefully double-check the window, making sure to show Izuku as he secures it. Then, he clicks the door locked firmly before turning back.

When he returns, Izuku’s body still shivers, the boy folded completely on himself, arms clutching his own shoulders and his breathing shallow. Katsuki watches frustrated Izuku sniffing quietly, helplessly staring as Deku bites his own lips hard enough that might bleed.

“C’mon Izuku, fucking tell me what you need.” Katsuki demands as softly as he can manage.

The way Izuku advert his eyes is the only sign Katsuki needs to know he got it right. “Hold me? Please?” Izuku’s voice is barely audible, the hesitation palpable. Katsuki wordlessly lies down by his side, awkwardly enveloping Izuku’s shoulders.

“Like this?” He asks, even though the fit feels wrong, and it will definitely get his back hurting by the morning.

A soft single breathy chuckle escapes Izuku, and it’s enough to make Katsuki’s shoulders ease, not minding that much if he will wake up with sore muscles. But Izuku palms his chest, silently guiding him to lay on his back, as he wraps Katsuki’s arms tightly around his middle, pressing impossibly closer. One leg slips between Katsuki’s, and Izuku’s hand rests warmly right above his heartbeat. In his mind, Katsuki orders his heart to behave.

Then, sighing softly, Izuku nestles comfortably into the crook of Katsuki’s neck, gently rubbing his nose against his skin. That’s better, Katsuki thinks, because finally, after so long, it feels right.

He can feel Izuku’s breathing growing steady against his neck, when a soft voice murmurs. “Thank you.” The words vibrate against Katsuki’s skin, and he hopes that Izuku can’t feel how his whole core shivers. “Reliving the memories…”

“It’s okay.” Katsuki swallows hard, quietly assuring Izuku. Because Izuku doesn’t need to explain himself, Katsuki knows a thing or two about haunting memories and fighting ghosts in the middle of the night.

“I hate it, to be so afraid.”

“It’s okay to be afraid sometimes.” He tightens his arms against Izuku’s middle. “I get afraid too, you know?”

Izuku doesn’t answer, only makes a small noise from the back of his throat, seemingly in disbelief.

Taking a deep breath, Katsuki admits. “Small places freak me out.”

“They do?” Izuku tilts his head slightly, and Katsuki can almost hear him storing the new information away to his ‘Kacchan Analysis’ folder Deku certainly has inside that big dumb brain of his.

“Small rooms, elevators, you name it.” Katsuki continues, releasing a shaky breath. “I get nervous just thinking about them.”

“But you weren’t scared of them, when we were kids.”

“No, I wasn’t.” It’s not a question, but Katsuki replies anyway, buying himself a couple of seconds for what comes next. “It happened in middle school. I was walking home from school when a fucking villain attacked me. The bastard wanted my body for my quirk.”

Izuku’s quiet gasp against warm again his neck makes him close his eyes for a moment. He is glad that he is not staring directly at Izuku’s eyes, not entirely sure if he would be able to tell him this memory if green eyes were studying him. After a few seconds, his voice is not entirely clear.

“And my quirk? Useless against his sludge type of body. I couldn’t do anything as he surrounded me at the same he filled my insides.” Katsuki’s voice grows heavily as he recalls the sensation. “He was everywhere, up my nose, and down my throat. I was fucking drowning.”

“That must have been terrifying.” Izuku whispers. Then, always the hopeful, he pleads. “Tell me some Hero stepped in to save you.”

“Five our six of them were there, but didn’t intervened because they were wainting for the one with the right quirk.”

“So what? They just watched as you suffocated?” Izuku’s voice raises with indignation, Katsuki could feel him growing restless in his arms.

“Most of their quirks were incompatible with the mud-like substance of his body, and my explosions only made things worse, setting the street on fire. It was a pretty bad scenario to work on, to be fair.” Katsuki reasons, even though, after all those years, the memory still pisses him off.

“Yes, but they were the heroes.” Izuku insists. “They are supposed to work on adverse conditions, that’s the job.”

“‘Raser’s quirk doesn’t work on physical characteristics, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have to fight against villains with modified bodies. Your quirk is not ideal during storms, that doesn’t mean you will not do your job if it’s a rainy day. We are supposed to try, to think another way, to be better.” He continues, his voice getting progressively sharper as his anger bubbles over. “For how long they were wiling to wait for ‘the right hero’ to show up? What if there wasn’t a right quirk against it? Would they have just stood there, watching you…”

Izuku stops abruptly, as if he couldn’t bear to voice the thought. Katsuki grins sadly, his voice dropping into a whisper. “You know, the whole time I kept thinking ‘Stupid Deku would’ve done something by now.”

“I probably would’ve.” Izuku nods against his chest, then, he continues with a self deprecating chuckle. “All scrawny and quirkless, putting both of our lives on risk just to save you.”

That seems likely enough for Katsuki, the thought alone being oddly comforting and utterly terrifying. If Deku had been there at that point, he is sure that the nerd would have recklessly tried to save him, throwing himself into danger without a second thought.

“If the heroes didn’t intervene, then… what happened?“ Izuku asks cautiously.

“That was the worst part,” Katsuki mindlessly brings Izuku closer, his voice slowly shifting to a gloomier tone as a familiar weight settles in his insides. “Some kid jumped in.”

Izuku sharply draws in a breath, sharing Katsuki’s dreadfulness. “She was not older then nine, yet she threw a fucking shoe at the villains eyes, and started to dig his body to get to me.”

“She managed to set my hand free, and I could barely blast him. But he wouldn’t back off,” Katsuki closes his eyes, somehow trying to escape his own words. Then, he admits, whispering. “And between us two… I was starting to fell lightheaded from all that time hardly breathing.”

“Holding your own, not breathing for that long and still managing to fight?” Izuku retorts in awe. “Wow, Kacchan is amazing.”

“I wasn’t that day,” Katsuki shakes his head, even if Izuku doesn’t see it. His voice is bitterly somber when he continues. “I never felt so… weak. I was being held hostage. I couldn’t fight back. A little kid was the one who jumped in to save me. I should have been stronger.”

“Kacchan, you are being too hard on yourself.” Izuku says earnestly, “I’m sorry that happened to you.” His hand gently rubs Katsuki’s chest in a soothing motion. “But of course you were amazing for holding as much as you did. You can’t blame yourself for not being able to stop the villain. You were just a kid, too.”

“How did you get out?” Izuku asks curiously, though he has a feeling about the answer.

“All Might.” Katsuki admits, his feelings still not untangled from Izuku’s earlier confession. “He grabbed my arm while fucking Detroit Smashing the bastard.” Katsuki couldn’t keep the veneration out of his voice as he recounts how the Hero saved him. “That day, I decided that I would be the best hero, the number one.” Katsuki continues, unmistakable sure of his words. “So I can save anyone in need, no matter what.”

There is a pause before Izuku responds, a cheeky tone creeping into his voice. “Sorry, Kacchan.” Katsuki’s ears perks up at the teasing. “To be number one you will have to beat me to it. But second place is pretty good too.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki agrees easily, sarcasm dripping from his lips. “A good spot for you, fucker.”

Izuku chuckles quietly as they fall into comfortable silent. After a while, Izuku takes a deep breath, whispering softly to the darkness of the room.

“I’m glad he saved you.” He says sincerely.

“I know.” Katsuki replies, because that’s who Izuku is. He is genuinely happy that Katsuki’s life was saved, even if by the same person who couldn’t save his own mother.

For a few minutes, they stay together in silence, but Katsuki notice Izuku’s head moving slightly, and with a quick look at him, Katsuki sees how he is staring fixedly at one corner of the room.

“Everything alright?” Katsuki asks, anticipating another request for safety check.

“It’s fine,” Izuku replies. “Just Yoichi making sure that I’m safe.”

“He is here?” Katsuki looks at the same corner Izuku’s eyes are glued on, even though he knows he won’t see anyone else.

“I only just realized him standing there.” Izuku chuckles. “He says he didn’t want to disturb us, so he stayed quiet.”

“And he just stood there in the corner like a freak?” Katsuki asks, rolling his eyes. Then, he adds with a resigned sigh. “Like holder, like vestige, I guess.”

Katsuki glances at the empty spot one more time before he whispers softly towards Izuku’s direction. “Tell him he doesn’t need to worry, Izuku. You are safe, I got your back.”

“He knows.” He feels Deku smiling against his neck, the boy mumbles. “I know.”

Finally, he hears Izuku breathing gradually becoming more rhythmic, and his body melting away to a peaceful sleep. Katsuki stays awake for a while longer, mesmerized by the way Izuku’s lips curls faintly in his sleep against Katsuki’s neck, unconsciously mumbling something incomprehensible. Not long after, he lets himself fall asleep with Izuku’s warm presence to ground him.

Chapter Text

A few weeks later, Katsuki’s muscles are sore from the training and his brain has become numb from the amount of pop quizzes they had to endure in class. Dragging his body after a long exhaustive day, he opens his door only to find his room turned into an circus, apparently.

His covers are somehow tied to the ceiling, cascading down in a tent-like structure. Pillows he doesn’t recognize are stacked like walls, and soft blankets are placed across the floor. And, in the middle of it all, Deku stands proudly, grinning like it is his most phenomenal creation.

“What the fuck.” Katsuki mutters, tiredness making his voice lower and raspier than usual.

“Kacchan, welcome back!” Izuku beams, excitement radiating off him.

“I’m gonna get a fucking restraining order,” Katsuki steps inside, sloppily shrugging off his backpack. As he comes closer to Izuku, his hand mindlessly tucks a rebel strand of green hair behind Izuku’s ear. “Care to explain what the hell happened to my room?”

“It’s a fort!” Izuku announces as he smoothly grabs Katsuki’s hand to give him a tour.

“I can see that.” Katsuki deadpans, though he is sure tone comes out fonder than he is comfortable with. “Why.”

“I wanted to prove a theory,” Deku shrugs, and at Katsuki expecting stare, he continues with a soft smile. “That I still know how to make them.”

Katsuki’s eyes move around the fort, its unsurprisingly well-made. Its big enough for him to stand at full height, and fairy lights hangs over his head, giving him the illusion that the whole place is bigger than it actually is. He is relieved to notice the nearly enclosed space doesn’t make him feel confined. It isn’t cramped, instead he feels warm, cozy… comfortable.

Sighing, Katsuki makes a show of  faking a thoughtful expression. “I suppose it is better than the crap you made when we were kids.” Shaking his head, he adds. “I swear, not an once of foundation.”

Izuku throws his head back, laughing genuinely as his whole face lighting up with his delightful smile. “Don’t shit-talk my fort-building skills. You were way worse!”

“The hell?” Katsuki snaps between chuckles he couldn’t hold. “Funny how it was always ‘Kacchan is amazing! Kacchan is amazing!’ whenever I built them.”

“You were amazing!” Izuku says truthfull, but his smile is sassy when he looks over his shoulders. “Your forts weren’t.”

“Fuck you. ” Katsuki grumbles, making himself comfortable on the floor, surrounded by all the softest things he could think of. “Tonight I’ve got shit to do. So you will have to keep your ass entertained, since you don’t have fucking math homework.”

“That’s okay, I do have to get some work done, too.” Izuku agrees, easily settling down beside him.

Ever since the day in Katsuki’s house, where they shared more then just memories, touch had become a casual thing between them. Katsuki still has problems processing how Izuku reaches for him in a way that makes his heart stumble in his chest, unceremoniously and naturally.

Their sides presses together as Izuku leans softly against him. Katsuki breaths deeply, hating that Izuku is his battery charger at the same time he is the one capable of short-circuiting him.

It’s one of those rare moments when Izuku is quiet. Of course he is not completely silent, Katsuki is not entirely certain if he is capable of that. His mutters spill into the space between them as Izuku bites the tip of his green marker, focusing on the document in front of him. Katsuki can’t help but wonder what could capture his attention so intensely.

“What’s this?” Katsuki asks, moving his head slightly down to catch a glimpse of words marked in green ink and messy handwriting filling every blank space on the document.

Without looking up, Izuku mumbles. “Some paper work I have to get through for my shift tomorrow.”

Katsuki hums in acknowledgment. He tries to get back to his own homework, but he finds it difficult for him to suppress his curiosity. Unlike what most people think, Katsuki is a very curious person. He thrives in piecing information together, loving listening to Mina gossip (even if he pretends not to), and enjoying catching loose bits of intel, as he assembles his personal puzzle. Katsuki likes to think that it keeps his brain sharp, just like completing quests.

But, when it comes to Deku, he finds out he doesn’t have the same patience to subtlety. He cares, whether he likes it or not.

“Who are you sidekicking for?” Katsuki asks.

“Sir Nighteye.” Izuku replies immediately, not even stopping his scribbling.

“Really?” Katsuki’s brows lift in surprise. He has heard stories about how hard it is to get a spot on Sir Nighteye’s agency, even among top students. But, if he is honest, it’s not that surprising Deku managing to get in. If the stories he has heard are true, it doesn’t shock him that the nerd was the one to win a chess game against a fucking future-seeing guru to earn his place. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Izuku says, finally setting the paperwork on his lap and turning fully to Katsuki. “Nighteye is truly one of a kind. At first, he wasn’t easy with me, he didn’t seem convinced by my skills. He is straightforward and harsh, but then, inspiring and kind, when he warms up to you. I enjoy learning from him. And I even get to shadow Mirio-Senpai on sometimes.” Deku’s big dumb eyes sparkles with joy, sneakily stealing Katsuki’s breath away and making him wish that Izuku’s eyes hadn’t turned to him.

“The only downside of it is when he decides to act as if he is divorced from All Might.” He continue, oblivious to the fact that Katsuki’s lungs are not currently functioning. As Izuku pouts, Katsuki’s attention falls to his lips. “Like, every once a week Sir Nighteye pays me lunch, just for him to launch into their whole story for the hundredth time. And he doesn’t even listen to my advice!”

“It’s still weird listening to you talk so…casually about All Might.” Katsuki says, memories of Izuku fanboying about All Might contrasting with the nonchalant tone that he currently uses to address the Hero.

Izuku shrugs, eyebrows furrowing lightly. “I guess it’s weird because the last version of me in your head is still my four year old self.” He says melancholic. “A lot has happened since then.“

“Yeah.” Katsuki agrees in a throaty voice, realizing that, without meaning to, he started to parallel Izuku with his 4-year-old version. And it isn’t fair with Deku. They both had grown up to be different persons, he couldn’t keep holding on to the reminiscence of someone he once knew.

“Do you…” Katsuki begins, then he pauses, opting to change his question mid-thought. “Do you hate him?”

“Of course not.” Izuku answers without hesitation. “He is an example for a whole generation. He’s actually the one that suggested Sir Nighteye’s agency. I…” His voice wavers for a moment, dropping to a whisper, as if he is afraid of being heard by someone else. “I respect him. He is a good enough teacher and his moves are still so cool .”

“So,” Katsuki says, a smirk reflecting his teasing tone. “That day, you jumped out of the window purely out of respect, huh?”

“That was my feelings being all over the place and Blackwhip mistaking it for me being in danger.” Izuku murmurs, his pout growing on his face.

Katsuki brows furrow. “He recognized you?”

“That was the reason I got so mad, he didn’t know who I was.” Izuku raises his hands, only to drop them in an exhale. “But now that I had the chance to process it, I understand there wasn’t really a way for him to know it was me, he hadn’t seen me in the bank.” He says with acceptance in his tone. “He just wanted to introduce himself formally, he said he had heard a lot about me from my dads and that he was excited to have me in his class.”

Izuku makes a move to grab his forgotten work but pauses, a joyful glint sparkling in his eyes “Oh! Speaking of All Might, I just remember something that happened yesterday. I swear it’s gonna make you laugh.” He says, a few giggles already slipping out, and Katsuki is a fool from how much he struggles to keep himself from smiling at the sight.

“My friends and I, we were training right? And I don’t really use my upper body for attacks because, you know, my hands are always pre-occupied,” Izuku grins as he gestures vaguely with both of his hands. “But I decided to try some punching moves just for fun. So, I made a show of yelling ‘Detroit Smash!’ and somehow ended up knocking out Iida with my fist.”

“And then Shoto,” Izuku interrupts himself with a laugh, his voice raising as the story is gets to its climax. But Katsuki’s eyes twitches as he listens. “He looks me dead the eye and asks Is All Might secretly your godfather?” Izuku giggles, glancing at Katsuki with half-lidded eyes. “Like, does he think I’m related to every hero he meets?”

“Since when do you call Half ‘n Half by his fucking given name?” Katsuki asks abruptly, tasting annoyance filling up his mouth.

“Uh?” Izuku blinks at him, his laughter dying as confusion takes over his face. “What?”

“Fucking Candy Cane, I didn’t know you two were that close.” Katsuki grumbles, trying to not sound as irritated as he feels. “You don’t even call me by my given name.”

Izuku’s confusion slowly fades into a sly smile, and Katsuki annoyance grows at the sight. The grin is the exact  one that atencipates Izuku’s teasing tone.

“Because I’m committed to your childhood nickname, Katsuki.” Izuku says, his voice becoming raspier as he pronounces Katsuki’s designated name for the first time.

Katsuki repress a shiver, his heart racing against his chest, as turbulent as his own mind. He has always been ‘Kacchan’ to Deku, never Katsuki. But now that he is Katsuki, he is not sure if he wants to shut Izuku up or beg him to never stop saying it.

“I’m not some kind of name whore. I’m fateful, you know?” Izuku adds provocatively, his grin widening.

Katsuki’s breathing grows uncontrollable and he doesn’t recognize his own presence, like he is living an out of body experience. His muscles tense, and his instincts urges him to do something in perfect sync with the frenetic beating of his heart against his ribs. Blood flows quickly through his body, his facing heating up as his lower belly burns with an unfamiliar fervent sensation.

“ Shut up .” He manages to speak, even if comes out raspy.

“Wha—“ Izuku yelps as Katsuki lunges, pulling him down in a impulsive tackle. They roll over the blankets, in a desperate wrestling. “What are you doing, Katsuki?”

“Stop calling me that!” Katsuki replies frustrated, as he fights to overpower Izuku.

Deku doesn’t let him have the advantage, twisting and turning, fighting Katsuki’s firm grasp when laugher bubbles up again. “But you were the one who suggested it in the first place, Katsuki.”

It takes a couple more seconds of frantic wrestling, but Katsuki is able to finally trap Izuku’s body beneath him. Panting, he mutters. “Keep calling me that dumb nickname of yours for all I care.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, scoffing. “Really.”

But his ironic tone is lost to Katsuki, as he catches a streak of neon green, right in the corner below Izuku’s lower lip. Izuku looks completely disheveled, his cheeks colored by a soft blush, probably from the wrestling, as his doe eyes gleam under the glow of the fairy lights, and his silky hair frames his face widely, as if tempting, daring, Katsuki’s hand to arrange it for him. But it’s the green streak that hypnotizes him the most, luring Katsuki’s gaze back to Izuku’s lips.

Katsuki desperately wants it. He wants Izuku’s mouth and Izuku’s touch and Izuku’s attention. Katsuki feels again the burning sensation, a sharp heat twisting in his gut, his breath hitching as he unconsciously leans closer to Deku, until Katsuki comes back to his senses, finally realizing the position they are currently in.

Katsuki jerks back, like he has been burned, untangling their bodies as he scrambles off Izuku. “What I do care is how fucking easy it was to pin you down. Don’t you dare let me supras you that fast, you dumb nerd.” He says sharply.

Izuku’s eyes are a bit hazy when he sits up, he shakes his head before smiling. “Don’t worry, Kacchan, it was easy because I didn’t want to make our fort crumble down accidentally.” Izuku face softens, and Katsuki is reminded of where they are. “I wasn’t sure if the covers falling down would make you feel claustrophobic.” He admits, fiddling with the edge of one of the blankets. Katsuki’s poor fatigued heart swells at the confession, hammering somehow faster than before.

“I hate you, go fuck your self.” He mutters, gripping the left side of his shirt. If Katsuki could, he would physically reach out to his own heart and lecture it about attacking Katsuki.

“What?” Deku tilts his head, confused.

Counting to ten, Katsuki inhales deeply. He mentally pleads his lungs to cooperate. “I said: I’ll grab water, want some, yourself?”

“Oh!“ Izuku beams at him, smiling easily. “That would be nice, thank you, Kacchan.”

For the rest of the night, Katsuki remains overwhelmed by Izuku. Even after his realization, Katsuki still spends hours in Deku’s addictive presence. And, then, when he is gone, Katsuki spends hours missing him. Morning comes without Katsuki managing to rest his mind for more then a few minutes. Every time he closed his eyes, Izuku’s doe oblivious gaze stared back at him, burned into the back of Katsuki’s eyelids.

Deciding he’d had enough of this shit, he throws on his training clothes, and before he starts running, he shoots a message to his right hand man in crises.

Kirishima meets him when Katsuki has already completed four miles. Silently jogging next to him, Kirishima has a knowing look in his eyes. His friend is not one to usually ask for company in his five in the morning running, so Eijiro knows that Katsuki has something in his mind. It takes three more miles before Katsuki finally breaks the silent.

“You and Pinky are all lovely-dovey, right?” He asks, his eyes trained on the path ahead that he already knows by heart.

Taken aback for a moment, Eijiro blinks in surprise, not expecting the conversation topic. But he offers a quick smile, nonetheless. “I would hope so. We are dating for 2 years, after all.”

Katsuki nods slightly to himself. “Right,” He mutters, scowling softly as he struggles to find his words. “So, uh… how do you feel when you are with her?”

“What do you mean?” Eijiro asks, confused. His lips twists upward when Katsuki huffs impatiently.

“Like…” Katsuki begins, still not glancing at his direction. Eijiro is alert  by his voice being uncharacteristically unsure. “How does your body… react when you’re with her.”

“How my body…” Eijiro echos, his eyes widening in realization. “Bro…” He stops in his tracks abruptly, his face heating up as his voice drops to a nervous whisper. “This is not a question for you to ask another bro in public!” He hisses.

“Oi!” Katsuki snaps, glaring at him. “Piss off, I’m not talking about that .”

Kirishima sighs in relief, resuming his jog. “Is this about Midobro?”

His question is met with silence. Katsuki only narrows his eyes at him, quickening his pace and Kirishima smirks.

“Fine.” Eijiro groans, struggling to keep up with Katsuki’s faster stride. “Then, is this about someone special?”

They reach a bench, coming to a stop. Kirishima eagerly sits down, catching his breath while Katsuki remains standing, clearly having trouble to express his thoughts.

“It’s just that,” Katsuki starts with a defeated tone. “Yesterday, I felt something that I never felt before.”

“Very specific words, bro.” Eijiro jokes, trying to lighten up the mood, but the  distressed look on Katsuki’s face makes his thumbs backtrack immediately. “Sorry, go on.”

“I felt this… need.” Katsuki whispers, rubbing his hands roughly against his face. “I wanted to devour him, but not in a creepy way.”

Eijiro nods, chuckling softly. “Of course not.”

Katsuki begins pacing, gripping his hair as he finally admits. “I grew up wanting things. To have the most powerful quirk, to be the best. I’m used to crave a lot of things, but I… I’ve ever felt this craving for anyone.” Kirishima listens carefully, nodding in encouragement . “But now, it’s like all my thoughts have been consumed by him.”

“I… long to see him again, even if he is right beside me. I want to memorize every single word he has to say, and engrave his stupid smile on my soul, and just… just be forever close to where his heart beats. But also, I want to know what he tastes like. I want to touch any and every inch of his skin. I want….“ Katsuki words come out all at once, his voice filled with urgency, and Eijiro almost wonders for a second if he is in physical pain. “I want to fucking  merge myself with him because no amount of closeness will be ever enough. You get me?” Katsuki’s crimson eyes stare at Kirishima, before his voice drops into a soft whisper. “I shouldnt be feeling this shit. I thought this crap was all romance movies’s talk.” Katsuki stops his pace and sits down beside him. “Do you ever feel it?”

Eijiro stares at him for a moment before he chuckles softly. “I mean, how can I explain it?” He wonders under his breath.

“Yes, I do feel this way about Mina.” Katsuki listens attentively to him, as if Eijiro has the ability to unravel all his doubts. “But what you just described? Two different things.”

At Katsuki’s puzzled expression, he continues.  “Well, actually it depends from person to person. For me, it’s two separated things, one is not conditional to the other.” He explains, Katsuki’s frown deepening on his face. “In fact, I can feel the first about a person without ever feeling the second, or vice versa. While to other people, the second one is extremely influenced by the first, and-”

“Stop talking cryptically, Rocks for Brains.” Katsuki interrupts, kicking a small rock on the ground from frustration.

“Shit, okay.” Eijiro sighs, explaining gently. “The first feeling you described? Totally romantic related. The second one? He definitely makes you horny.”

“What the fuck, Shitty Hair.” Katsuki’s blushes bright red, mirroring Kirishima’s own embarrassed expression.

Eijiro shrugs, grinning at the shyness coming out of Katsuki. “What can I say? He gives you the hots and you are also smitten with him.”

“Well, shit.” Katsuki groans, burring his head in his hands.

“Yeah.”

They sit in silent, quietly watching as a few people walk by them, while others take advantage of the silent morning to lazily enjoy a cup of coffee. Damn, Eijiro wishes he had had time for breakfast.

“Is the first feeling… love?” Katsuki asks, biting the inside of his cheek as he waits for an answer.

“It can be.” Eijiro replies softly. “Or at least an infuriation, that could grow into something more.”

“I…” Katsuki hesitates, staring at the ground. “How do I know it?”

“I’m sorry, Bakubro. You are the only one that can figure it out.” Eijiro says apologetically, offering a sympathetic smile. Seeing Katsuki’s pained expression, Kirishima tries to help him out a bit more. “For me, infuriation is like a crush, a flutter of feeling whenever you think about that special person.” Katsuki remains silent, his frown persistent.

“But if it’s love,” Eijiro sighs dreamily. “Bro, then your heart has been took over entirely.” He continues, his voice tender. “The tricky thing is, love is not this blaring flashy feeling that strikes you. It… grows. Without warning, and beginning so subtle that you wake up one day and realizes it fills you completely. Sometimes I get… overwhelmed by my love for Mina. It just floods me, you know?”

Katsuki scoffs, looking away. “That sounds like it is annoying as hell.”

“Trust me, it’s completely worth it.”

They resume their running, no words needed after their conversation, Katsuki’s red eyes are distant, thoughtful. But, by the time they reach the dorms, and before Eijiro can start worrying about his eerily silence, Katsuki’s face turns into acceptance, a soft smile curling in his lips.

On a peaceful Tuesday evening, Izuku finds himself enjoying the company of his friends in the dorms’ common room. It’s still a relatively new experience for him, having a group of friends to spend time with, and to share easy conversation. He kind of likes it.

“Deku-kun, you should come with us to the movies,” Ochaco says. “We will catch the new Mt. Lady release!”

“‘Between Seas and Landscape’?” He asks, not taking his eyes off her nails, focused on carefully painting them.

“Yes, that one!” She exclaims, moving her hands enthusiastically, and Izuku frowns at her for almost ruining his art. “We were thinking about the Saturday evening session.”

“Sorry, guys. I promised Kacchan we would watch it together.” He smiles apologetically, settling down the bottle of polish. “But I will come with you guys next time.”

“I would have never imagined you and Bakugo would get along so well…” Ochaco ponders cautiously, watching his expression closely as if afraid her words might upset him. “Especially after your… heated first meeting.”

“Why not?” He wonders casually, still focused on the nail he is filling with pink polish. “We’ve always been that way. Extremely competitive and… driven, I guess.”

“Have you known each other for a long time?” Iida asks from his spot on the couch.

“We grew up together,” Izuku shrugs. “For better or worse, we were pretty much joined at the hip until I was seven.”

“Oh,” Ochaco sighs, a hint of relief in her voice. “That explains a lot.”

“What do you mean?” Izuku tilts his head, the tip of his tongue slightly picking out from concentration as he paints her nails.

“I was worried about you falling in love with him in such a short amount of time.” She replies in a soft tone. “But you are in love since then, right?”

“What?” He yelps, the brush falling from his hand as he finally looks up to meet her eyes. Izuku’s own eyes are wide in panic, just like a deer caught by headlights. He meets Ochaco  knowing expression and suddenly feels sick, a wave of nausea hits him, how could she proclaim such absurd with not a hint of a joke in her voice? Surely she must be joking.

“Ochaco, you are being rude.” Shoto interjects firmly. “It’s obvious they are already in a relationship and just don’t want it to be public.”

“Oh! I didn’t know Deku-kun.” She smiles apologetically.

“What, no!” Izuku chokes on air, feeling lightheaded. For a moment, he wonders if he is passing out. “I don’t… we aren’t,” He manages to say between sharp and shallow breathing. “I mean, I am not-“

“I think it’s for our best interest that we change the subject.” Iida interrupts, a hint of apprehension in his voice.

“Don’t worry, Izuku, we won’t tell anyone about your secret.” Shoto promises, Ochaco nodding her head in reassurance.

“No, no. You guys are mistaken.” He insist, words stumbling in frantic rush as his green alarmed eyes dart between his friends. He is terrified. “I’m not… we are not… like that.”

“You aren’t dating yet?” Shoto raises an eyebrow.

“We will never date.” He insists distressed, his voice cracking. “I don’t- I am not-“

“In love with him?” Ochaco finishes for him, as he seems to struggle to say it out loud.

“Exactly! I’m not!” Izuku forces the words out of his mouth, his voice urging his friends to believe in him.

“Li-ar.” A new voice cuts in, Izuku jumps startled by Tenko suddenly appearance, sitting cross-legged on the table as he shakes his head with a smirk.

“Deku-kun, it’s okay if you are. We will keep your secret.” Ochaco assures him gently, a concerned look taking over her face. Izuku blinks rapidly, trying to ground himself. Is she real? Is she actually there in the room with him? Or is she only a hallucination just like Tenko?

But he has touched her, right? He was doing her nails, weren’t he? Izuku is almost sure of of it, but his eyes still anxiously dart towards her fingers, relieved to see half painted nails he has been working on. At least he isn’t imagining her. She is real.

“Izuku,” Yoichi calls him softly from beside Ochaco, his voice reprimanding Izuku. He shuts his eyes close, but it doesn’t stops Yoichi from continuing. “You know it’s not healthy to lock your feelings in the depths of your heart.”

“Yeah kid, I think it’s time for you to catch up with your feelings.” Kudo says firmly. And well, three is a party, isn’t it? All of Izuku’s constant vestiges in the room with him, telling him something that it isn’t true and he doesn’t want to hear. “The thing you have been hiding from, it is love.”

A timebomb starts ticking in his head, and Izuku understands two fundamental truths in the exact same time. One: Izuku is greedy. Deep down, he has never been contempt for what he already has, so he should have known. He should have known that the moment he got his hands on Katsuki, and Izuku being Izuku and Kacchan being Kacchan, it was inevitable for Izuku to fall for him, only a matter of gravity.

Number two: He can’t doom Kacchan in the same way he has doomed every single person he has ever come to love in his life. He has doomed his Mom and his Pops, both of them are now dead. He will not add Katsuki to this list.

“No, it’s not.” Izuku says sharply, even if his voice trembles. “I don’t. I can’t.” He rises from his seat, clutching his shirt when it becomes hard for him to inhale. “I can’t… I can’t let it happen. I am not.”

“Except that you are.” Tenko sings, swinging his head side to side.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for assuming.” Ochaco says appeasingly, standing up, too. “I just thought that the way you look at him…”

“And talk to him, and talk about him.” Shoto continues with a blank expression. “Definitely love.”

“Shoto!” Iida repremends and Izuku takes a step back as if he has been physically punched.

“Deku, just accept it.” Tenko grins tiredly. “Unfortunately you are...” Izuku shakes his head, his chest tightening with each word. “Deeply in love with him, and way past a comeback point.”

“Shut the hell up!” Izuku shouts, gripping his head and barely holding himself on his feet. “Stop saying that! I am not- I can’t… I will not let it happen.” Izuku feels hot tears streaming down from his face and into the ground, only then he realizes he has been crying. “Not with anyone, and specially not with him.

“Izuku,” Shoto calls him gently, standing up as Ochaco steps close to him.

Izuku steps back, shaking his head in denial, determined. “I can’t.” He says hoarsely. “I...”

As his heart slams wildly against his chest, Blackwhip explodes from his body, wrapping around him. He faintly hears his name being called, but his ears rings as tendrils launch him out of the dorms and into the night air.

The whole city passes in a blur of lights as Izuku races home, the chill air hurting his face. When he finally reaches the window of his room, he clambers in, tripping over and barely standing on his feet.

His home is lit from within, faint music plays in the background, filtering through the walls in a clear sign that Zashi is making dinner. Izuku chest squeezes, he muffles his sobs behind his trembling hand, slowly curling himself in the carpeted floor. A few minutes pass in painful silence when soft knocks sounds on the door.

“Izuku? Are you home?” His dad’s calm voice echoes through the room.

Izuku sucks in a shaky breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “Yeah.” He answers hoarsely, his voice almost sounding normal.

“That’s good.” ‘Raser says quietly, his tone contemplative. “Come downstairs and eat with us.”

“‘M not hungry.” Izuku replies. It’s the truth. But he also knows he wouldn’t make it through a whole meal without having a breakdown in front of his parents.

There’s a pause before ‘Raser steps close to his door. “Are you feeling all right, kid?”

“Just tired,” Izuku sighs, resting his forehead against the ground. “I think I will just head to bed early.”

“Okay, kid.” ‘Raser says softly, lingering a beat longer in silence. “If you need us, we are downstairs.”

Izuku is grateful that his parents respect his boundaries and privacy, they don’t barge in and demand anything from him. But as he listens the sound of his dad’s footsteps fading into the distance, he can’t help but feel a crushing loneliness making home into his chest.

He carefully raises his hands to his hair, awkwardly brushing his fingers through it in the same way his mom used to when he cried. It doesn’t brings the comfort he craves.

He spends the night restlessly urging the tears to stop flowing, biting his lips to stifle his sobs, silently choking on the pain he refuses to let out. He wishes he could be satisfied with just being Kacchan’s friend. More than that, he wishes he wasn’t a walking jinx, doomed to curse everyone he loves. Maybe, that way, he could love Kacchan. Izuku could be unapologetic about his love and not be so, so, so afraid. Afraid of destroying the person that means everything to him.

By morning, Izuku is sore from the weird position he remained the whole night on the floor. He ignores Yoichi’s presence hovering in the edge of his vision as he stiffly drags his body to have breakfast with his parents.

Aizawa and Hizashi have a concerned look on them as they watch Izuku distractedly siping his coffee. His green eyes dull and unfocused, staring blankly at the table.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay, ‘Zuku?” Hizashi finally breaks the unsettling silence.

“You can stay home for today, if you want to.” Aizawa smiles softly at him as Izuku’s gaze snap up to meet theirs in alarm. “To get some rest.”

He shakes his head, forcing himself out of his stupor. “I would rather go.” He murmurs, trying to get a smile out, although it doesn’t reach his lips. The last thing he needs is to be left alone with his thoughts.

“It’s your call, kid.” Aizawa says after a moment, he gently reaches Izuku’s hand, squeezing it to ground him. “Izuku, you know you can talk to us about anything, right?”

Izuku nods, his throat tightening painfully. “I know.” He whispers, his voice strangled by all the pain he has been holding onto.

The class is a patrol exercise in pairs, and Izuku is relieved when Kirishima is his addressed classmate. At least he will not have to deal with Kacchan or any of his worried friends. And Kirishima’s easygoing manner is enough to get Izuku out of his head and into small talk.

“I’m so excited to partner with you, Midoriya.” Kirishima says enthusiastically. “You are so manly, man!”

Izuku blushes at the compliment, waving his hands in denial. “I’m glad you are my partner, too, Kirishima.” He says. “Your quirk is so cool! Is the hardness time-related? Or is it effort-related?”

He is interrupted by their radios crackling with an alert. “Calling for reforcment to Musutafu area 13.” A voice announces.

“That’s us!” Kirishima grins before responding. “Red Riot and Deku, ready and available.”

“There is commotion on the 5th street. Details sparse for now. Stand by for updates.”

“We are on it!” Kirishima confirms, and they quickly move towards the scene, weaving through the crowd fleeing in the opposite direction.

“Well, well.” Suspended in mid-air above them, a familiar face greets Izuku. “Look if it’s not our precious thing, little Deku.”

Izuku feels a chill running down his back. The man in his mid fourties is the same one who used to have monthly meetings with his Pops, and the same one Deku had learned to despise since a young age.

“Deku, man, you know this guy?” Kirishima asks him.

“No one worth knowing, Red Riot.” Izuku mutters, his sharp eyes scanning the man’s movements. He knows the man’s quirk has something to do with illusions, but he’d never taken interest in paying the man more attention than necessary.

“Same smart mouth as always, I see.”  The man grins wickedly at him as distorted images materializes into the air, copies of the same sickening smile surrounding him. Izuku propels himself upwards, charging his weapon but holding fire. He needs to figure out which image is the real one, Izuku can’t just fire at every single one and risk hurting civilians.

“I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard you were out and about playing hero. So much potential… wasted.”

The illusions take a gun to their hands, hundreds of them pointing at Izuku all at once.

“Deku! Position C!”  Kirishima shouts from somewhere below him. Without hesitation, he moves, trusting his partner instincts.

“You know,” The man begins, easily dodging their attacks. “You were the reason for his downfall. Yet you decided to tap dance in his legacy.”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Izuku yells, firing at one of his images, unknowingly breaking position.

“Deku!“ Tenko shouts by his side, nervously scratching his neck. “He is playing with your head, quit falling for his antics!” Izuku knows Tenko is right. He also knows that he is making several mistakes in a row. Usually, he is more analytical than that, having no trouble finding new strategies to defeat his opponents. But since yesterday’s revelation, his blurry mind and unstable emotional state clouds his judgment. Izuku tries to ground himself, searching for Kirishima as he dodges attack after attack.

“You were supposed to be his heir, how dare you betray him becoming a hero?” The villain snarls. “You are the reason he is dead .”

“Shut the hell up!” Izuku screams again, impulsively lunging at the closest image in a desperate attempt to make him stop talking.

“Deku! Watch out!” He hears Kirishima voice cutting through the chaos, Izuku nearly falls as he dodges a bullet.

“Still the same disturbed little boy, I see.” The villain sneers as the illusions begin to fade one by one, until the last one waves him off, holding a unconscious Kirishima over his shoulder. “Well, it seems your friend and I have so much to share.”

“No!” Izuku darts towards the figure. But the moment he reaches it, it disappears into thin air. Just a illusion, too.

“Shit.” Tenko mutters as Izuku’s mind races.

Fueled by panic and guilt, Izuku makes his way back to U.A. in a frenzy. He quickly recounts the event to his dad, the shame only growing when Aizawa doesn’t reprimands him, but instead calmly asks for every detail about the villain. Izuku spills everything he can remember from the past, even if it’s not that helpful. Within minutes, the class 3A is summoned for an emergency meeting.

“Thank you for coming so quickly.” Aizawa says to the class. “In the early assignment, Izuku and Kirishima faced a villain. And, unfortunately, Kirishima has been taken captive.”

Izuku feels nauseous at the worried look in his classmates faces. The man is from his past. Izuku is the one who has made so many wrong calls. He should be the one suffering the consequences. His dad squeezes his shoulder gently, but not even the gesture is enough to stop his mind from spiraling.

“I’m deeply sorry.” Izuku says, bowing low before the class. “Kirishima was my partner, and I let him down.”

“Mido, this isn’t a good scenario,” Kaminari says softly, in a kind tone he doesn’t deserves. “But don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Yeah, we will get him back.” Momo assures firmly. “Unfortunately, this is not our first ‘rescue classmate’ mission.”

“Let’s get to work.” His dad steps forward. Izuku still doesn’t meet any of his classmates eyes, too ashamed to do that. “The villain is called Illudere, he has an illusion quirk. I want patrol groups of four looking at areas where he has been active recently.”

“I have a tracker on Kirishima!” Izuku says suddenly, realization hitting him.

His dad nods as he pulls his laptop open. “Good. While you get information from it, everyone forms teams of four.”

“Wait.” Katsuki’s voice cuts through the room. “Why do you have a tracker on Eijiro?”

Izuku shrugs without meeting his stare, too busy as his fingers fly across the keyboard. “It’s cute how you seem to think I don’t have one on you, too.” 

“The fuck?” Katsuki’s pats his body, trying to locate the tracker.

“Everyone outside. Izuku will get the information and we will act immediately.” His dad calls out to the class, and Izuku keeps his eyes glued on the laptop, listening as his classmates shuffle out of the room.

“Izuku…” His dad says gently.

“Please,” Izuku interrupts, his voice cracking. “Just scold me.” He doesn’t look up to meet his dad’s eyes, his voice strained. “Please… please, yell at me for letting the villain get in my head.” Izuku pained expression reflects every once of guilty and self loathing that weighs him down. “Please, punish me for making so many mistakes today.”

Aizawa sighs softly, stepping closer to Izuku and placing a hand on his shoulder. “You were unfocused.” He says, watching Izuku nod in shame. “But I know you are already punishing yourself more than I ever could.” He continues, and Izuku’s fingers hesitate slightly above the keyboard. “Are you alright, Izuku?”

Izuku frowns, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. “I…” He mutters. “I will make it right.”

“We will, kid.” ‘Raser assures him, ruffling his hair in a tender gesture. His voice is covered with concern and worry as he leaves Izuku to continue his work.

Out in the hall, they restlessly wait for instructions. Even though Katsuki is not a big fan of comforting touches, he can’t help but rub soothing circles on Mina’s back.

“Eijiro is strong.” He mutters. “He is fine.”

And although he truly believes in what he is saying, it doesn’t make the situation less scary. Mina nods, inhaling shakily, trying to maintain her composure. Katsuki pulls her closer, thinking bitterly about how helpless he would feel if it were Deku. He probably wouldn’t handle the situation as well as Mina.

“C’mon, guys!” Kaminari interrupts, jogging to them. “Aizawa-sensei has just sent us Eijiro’s possible location.”

Mina sighs softly in relief as she straightens up, ready to move. The rest of 3A swiftly follows, determination coming in waves from them.

But Katsuki stops in his tracks, scanning the group. He doesn’t catch green anywhere near them.

“Where the hell is Izuku?” He demands.

“He is monitoring the location to make sure it’s accurate.” Kaminari replies casually. “He said he will catch up later.”

Katsuki frowns deepens. It doesn’t sit right with him. He knows Izuku. Deku wouldn’t just stay behind, especially when he feels responsible for it. Katsuki could still picture the way Izuku bowed in shame earlier, teeth sinking into his lips forcefully, as if he was trying to punish himself. It makes Katsuki burn in anger, the way that Izuku is the same as when they were younger. He has always been compassionate and way too selfless for his own good, holding the weight of the world in his shoulders alone. And deep down, this is what has always made Katsuki so afraid of Deku, how he doesn’t take his own well being into consideration, not even for a second. Katsuki’s heart speeds against his chest, his eyes anxiously darting across his classmates trying to find Izuku as his mind chants shit shit shit.

“Not on my fucking watch.” He snaps, spinning on his heels as he storms back to the building.

“Kats! Where are you going?” Kaminari shouts after him, but Katsuki is already too far away to answer his friend. He has a bad feeling nagging his guts, he mind running frightened, scared that maybe it is too late for him to catch up with Izuku’s dumb behavior.

Back in the classroom, Katsuki curses under his breath as he finds it empty. His eyes run around in frustration, but relief flows through him when he notices that something has took pity on Katsuki. Miraculously, the laptop Izuku had been working on is still open and it shines with Kirishima’s location.

“Fucking Deku,” He mutters lowly, his voice stiff as he notices that the location on the screen is not the same Izuku has shared with the class. “His stupid ass can go to hell for all I care.”

Without a second of hesitation, Katsuki launches himself out of the nearest window, explosions blasting furiously behind him. His erratic pace matches the frantic thoughts racing through his head. When he finally reaches the outskirts of a desolate side of the town, Katsuki spots Kirishima’s red hair peeking from Blackwhip’s grip, relief striking him as his friend is seemingly fine. But the sight before Katsuki makes his heart stop beating for a second, his blood running cold.

“Shit.” He grumbles. Deku is surrounded by illusions, Blackwhip lashing out at the images as he searches for the real villain. Except that Izuku is blindsighted, and he doesn’t notice the way one of his tandrils misses an illusion, leaving an opening for a certain attack.

There is no thoughts, no conscious decision. Katsuki’s body moves on its own.

He blasts himself towards Izuku, shoving him out of the way. And consequently, Katsuki’s the one target to be attacked. Pain explodes through his left side, spreading fire throughout his entire body. He feels himself falling as he hears Izuku’s pained cry piercing the air.

“Kacchan!” It echoes in his head, and Katsuki wants to curse him. He wants to scream at him for being reckless, for being so infuriatingly self-sacrificing, and Katsuki wants to be mad at Izuku for being so beautiful in his dumb determination.

Above all, Katsuki wants to be furious at Deku for making him fall (in love and with such a selfless person).

Izuku shouldn’t be here. Katsuki’s fresh out of the surgery, and visitors are not allowed yet. But a cracked window and a moment of impulsivity later, Izuku faces an unconscious Katsuki. His breath hitches, Katsuki’s body is limp against the white sheets, his face more relaxed than Izuku has ever seen. Izuku exhales shakily as he stares at the bandages wrapped around Katsuki’s side and, without a conscious thought, his feet moves towards Kacchan. Carefully, his fingers reach out to Katsuki’s features in a barely there touch. Izuku traces his fingertips over his sharp jawline, his rested brows (that are more often than not furrowed) and slowly, so slowly, he brushes Katsuki’s hair out of closed his eyes. He is alive and He is safe and He is here.

But Izuku swallows hard. He is hurt and He is hurt because of me.

Watching him so closely that it almost hurt, Izuku doesn’t miss the way Katsuki’s lashes flutters against his cheekbones.

Katsuki blinks twice, his eyes hazy. “Izuku?” He asks hoarsely, Izuku’s heart stuttering in his chest.

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, his voice breaking. He instinctively places a comforting hand against Katsuki’s cheek.

Katsuki’s brow furrows in confusion as he slowly raises his hands, covering Izuku’s with his own. “Nerd…?”

“You- Don’t ever do that again.” Izuku says firmly, his thumb brushing against Katsuki’s cheekbones. “You could have died.”

“I…” Katsuki closes his eye, letting out a weak sigh. He squeezes Izuku’s hand ever so gently. “For you, i would.” He murmurs, and not a moment later his breathing slowly becomes more periodically, his hand going slack over Izuku’s as he falls back to sleep.

Tears prickle at the corner of Izuku’s eyes, he stays frozen for a long time after the confession, ShitShitShit.

The moment Katsuki open his eyes, he meets the piercing morning light coming from the window of his hospital room. He groans, gesturing vaguely in the air, knowing full well he can’t reach the blinds from his bed.

“You will hurt yourself if you keep doing that.” His mother’s sharp voice cuts in from beside him. She sighs stepping closer to his bed, and Katsuki notice how tired she looks as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Welcome back, brat.”

Katsuki darts his eyes around the room, his gaze landing on his father sitting quietly in the corner with a soft smile, and eyes shining with tears. Slowly, Katsuki pushes himself upwards, frowning at his mom when she places a helping hand under his arm.

“Izuku?” He asks with a raspy voice, holding his ribs when a dull wave of pain flares in his side.

“Oh, the poor boy got himself kicked out for breaking into your room last night.” Mitsuki says, fondly shaking her head.

“Of course.” Katsuki tries to hide the smug smile that tugs on his lips. The idea of Izuku stupidly sneaking into his room is entirely endearing, and he can’t help but feel pleased that Izuku was there with him, even if he can’t quite remember.

“Katsuki…” Mitsuki’s face hardens, her eyes narrowing as her tone changes to a worried one. “Are we going to talk about how you threw yourself into danger like a dumbass without looking back?”

Before he can defend himself, his father approaches him, placing a warm hand on his foot. “Son, you were lucky enough to get out with just this.” His gentle voice makes a chill run down Katsuki’s back. “It could have been so much worse.”

Katsuki sighs heavily, leaning back against the wall behind him. “I know, okay?” He mutters. “I… I didn’t think,” His voice cracks, and his furrow deepens with exasperation. “The only thing moving my body was the need of getting him to safety.”

His mom hums unimpressed. “And how exactly were you planing to protect him, if you are the one getting yourself killed, huh?”

“I know!” Katsuki snaps. He takes a shaky breath, his hands turning into fists on the shit. “But…It’s Izuku.” He utters exhausted, his voice slowly turning into a whisper. “He is… I couldn’t... I needed to make sure he was safe.”

For a moment, there is only Katsuki’s breathing sounding in the room.

“He is safe, right?” Katsuki asks when, suddenly, fear grows in the pit of his stomach.

Masaru and Mitsuki exchange a brief look, understanding washing over them. His father nods in reassurance, as his mom’s features softens.

“He is safe, son.” Masaru replies tenderly.

Katsuki exhales shakily, his whole body relaxing instantly as he rests his head against the wall. “Good.” He whispers, more to assure himself than his parents.

The rest of the week, Katsuki spends most of his time holed up in his dorm room. He is still not cleared for practical activities, so he doesn’t get to see Izuku around U.A.

Katsuki tells himself it’s fine, that Izuku is probably just busy with his own life. That’s why he hasn’t visited Katsuki at night or even sent him a quick text, signing him that he is safe and sound.

Katsuki doesn’t care. He proudly goes through his days minding his own business, and he doesn’t spend hours thinking about a mess of green curls and freckled smile. Neither he lets his balcony door cracked open, just in case. And If anyone accuses him of letting his glance linger on Izuku’s drawings or that he meticulously darts his eyes around the school, trying to catch a glimpse of Izuku? Boom. He blows the person up. End of discussion.

Still, if he is true with his feelings, Katsuki is hurt by Izuku’s sudden absence. The silence in his room feels too much similar to the one he had to endure when he hadn’t Izuku back. But Katsuki is stubborn. He waits for Izuku to come around, with his ridiculous wide eyes and dumb feckless, carrying sunlight in his smile.

Izuku doesn’t show up. And Katsuki has spent too many hours staring at his balcony door that, sometimes, in the middle of the night, he swear there’s someone there, haunting his thoughts with a series of what ifs. Each time he wakes up, throwing the door wide open, Katsuki is met unsurprisingly with the empty night.

When he finally gets the all-clear to return to normal activity, he hopes things fall back into place.

Another mistake, as things get worse, somehow. Izuku mindlessly participates in the class, keeping his distance and never getting closer to Katsuki than necessary. It is a low blow, how he is nonchalant about the distance, acting like Katsuki is just another extra in his life. Instead of the usual special place he would hold to Katsuki in his life, Izuku treats him just like a classmate.

It makes Katsuki boil in anger. Izuku is pleasant. Polite. Casual. Acting normally enough around Katsuki, but, then, Deku doesn’t demands him sparring sessions after classes. No endless nerdy analysis. No more showing up earlier than he needed to just to spend more time talking with Katsuki. And no invading Katsuki’s room in the middle of the night, barging in like he belongs in Katsuki’s personal place and wrapping himself all over him like Izuku knows he owns Katsuki’s heart.

There is no reminder that Katsuki’s someone special to Izuku. For the first time, Katsuki feels like he is a stranger in Izuku’s life.

Katsuki’s thoughts are far away (stuck on a certain shade of green) in a chilly Sunday evening, even if his body is placed comfortably in one of Mina’s bright pink bean bags. He absentmindedly stares at the floor while his friends chatter around him, until a single word is pronounced, making him tune back to the conversation.

“…and, then, Midoriya just pulls out an eighteen page quirk analysis from his backpack, just like that. He-“

“Deku?” Katsuki cuts in, his head snapping towards Denki. The sudden interruption bringing the room into silence, his friends looking back at him uncertain.

“Uh, yeah, man,” Denki replies slowly. “We were talking about our last wrestle with him, on Friday.”

“You wrestled with him Friday?” Katsuki echoes, his voice carefully neutral, pretending it doesn’t stings that Izuku was with Denki when he has dodged every single one of Katsuki’s attempts to get closer to him this week.

“Midobro took on me and Denki at the same time.” Kirishima adds, chuckling weakly. “I should be ashamed of how fast he took us down. He even gave us super detailed analysis of our quirks afterwards. Super manly.”

Katsuki huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was the first person he analyzed. We were four.”

Denki blinks hesitantly, offering him a thumbs-up. “Congrats, man?”

The room erupts in laughter, but Katsuki bites the inside of his cheeks, mentally counting to ten.

“It’s just-,” He sighs tiredly. “Izuku has been ignoring me.”

“You sure?” Mina asks him from her spot on her bed. “He seemed pretty normal to me in class.”

“Of course I’m sure,” Katsuki mutters, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “I know him like the palm of my hand. He is all obsessive clingy touchs and stalker tendencies,” His friends nod easily in agreement with his reasoning. “I can tell when he is keeping his distance. And he has been.”

Sero leans back, smirking. “So what have you done wrong?”

Before Katsuki can stop himself, he mutters. “Go die on the corner, Soy Face.” It earns him a snicker from Mina. Katsuki breathes in deeply before continuing. “I haven’t done anything. He has been weird since…”

“Since?” Kaminari asks when he pauses.

“The Illudere incident.” Katsuki sighs, instinctively reaching for his left side, now filled only by scars.

“Oh,” Eijiro offers his understanding. After all, he is the only one who was there too, he got to watch Katsuki’s recklessness in front roll. “Yeah, that whole thing hit him hard. He spent the entire week apologizing to me, even when I told him that it wasn’t his fault.” Kirishima lays his head on Mina’s shoulder. “That man is not easy on himself.”

“But why is he avoiding Kats?” Mina asks, her brows furrowed.

“Baby, you weren’t there.” Eijiro says, shaking his head. “When Katsuki took the attack… when Midobro realized Katsuki had been hurt, he went batshit crazy.” He explains. “If he wasn’t there to rescue me, even I would be afraid of him. Like, he had this aura around him, unhinged.  Blackwhip was everywhere, and his attacks? Insane, man.”

“Sounds awesome.” Denki whispers, his eyes shining with awe.

But Katsuki doesn’t answer Kaminari. It is the first time he hears what happened after he fell unconscious.

“Its obvious!” Mina claps jolts him from his thoughts. “He is blaming himself for you getting hurt. That’s why he is avoiding you.”

“That makes sense.” Sero agrees. “Also totally Shojo coded.”

Katsuki stares at them, dumbfounded by the realization. How could he not have seen it before? Of course the nerd is blaming himself for Katsuki’s actions. Without another word, and before anyone could stop him, Katsuki is already out of the door.

The distance feels like forever, but Katsuki stands in front of the Aizawa’s door not too long after, his knuckles impatiently knocking against the wood. He doesn’t stop until it swings open, his teacher’s tired face appearing in front of him.

Aizawa-sensei lazily lifts a brow at Katsuki, his tall frame resting against the doorframe. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit, Problem Child Two?”

“Is Izuku home?” Katsuki blurts out, not caring if he sounds desperate.

“Well, it depends on what you’ve got to discuss,” Aizawa says, his sharp eyes searching Katsuki for something. “A matter so urgent that couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning, when you will see him again for school.”

Katsuki huffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Turns out someone needs to knock some sense into that stupid big brain of his.”

Aizawa gives him a unimpressed look. “And you are supposed to be that person?”

Letting a frustrated sigh, Katsuki’s voice drops a tone more softer. “Please. I need to talk to him.”

“I see, urgent enough for you to say please.” Katsuki grits his teeth, tightening his jaw, biting back a response as Aizawa steps aside, sighing. “Fine. He is in his workshop. Second floor, third door to the left.”

“Thank you,” Katsuki breathes, missing the way Aizawa’s brows raises in surprise.

“Just don’t break anything,” Aizawa calls after him. “He nearly cried when Catsby snuck in yesterday and knocked one of his prototypes.” 

As Katsuki quickly takes the stairs two at a time, he can faintly hear Hizashi asking what happened.

“I swear,” Aizawa mutters. “Those problem children are gonna make me retire earlier.”

In front of Izuku’s workshop, Katsuki doesn’t waste a second before shoving the door open. But the sight that greets him makes him freeze. Izuku is bent over his workbench, hammering away at something with intense focus, the muscles of his arms flexing with every strike.

“Kacchan?” Izuku asks. He looks exhausted, his green eyes confused as they dart to Katsuki. “What are you doing here?”

Katsuki approaches him cautiously, wordlessly grabbing the hammer out of his hand, lingering his touch for a beat, his fingers brushing against Izuku’s until Izuku’s anxious gaze visibly tones down.

“Since you have decided to avoid me all week, I had to come all the way here to say to your face how dumb you are being.” Katsuki snaps, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer to Izuku.

Izuku backs away, running his fingers through his hair. “You don’t understand.” He sighs worn out.

“Of course I don’t understand,” Katsuki says exasperated, he points a finger to Izuku’s chest, jabbing it accusingly as his voice rises. “You won’t talk to me about what really matters!”

Izuku groans in disbelief, desperately rubbing his face as if trying to whipe away his frustration. “Wanna talk about something that matters, Kacchan?” He lashes out, his voice raising as his wide eyes meet Katsuki’s red ones. “Fine, let’s talk about how you almost died. Because of me.” He says roughly, soundly holding the tears. “You were in the hospital. Because of me.”

Katsuki inhale sharply, holding himself from pulling Izuku into his arms. “You don’t get to run from me.” Katsuki’s voice softens, even if the tone is still firm. “Yeah, I got hurt on a mission. It happens! Not my first trip to the hospital, Shitty Nerd.”

Izuku’s lower lip trembles, gripping the edge of his desk, his knuckles white as he shakes his head in denial. “But you didn’t go to the hospital because of a mission!” Izuku replies loudly. “You were hurt because of me. Because you were too close to me!”

“I know myself, Kacchan.” Izuku’s body trembles, his voice dropping to a vulnerable whisper. “I can’t get close to you. If I let myself be too close to you, I will like it and after that I’m going to start lov-” Izuku utters, Katsuki’s breath hitching in his throat. “And then you are going to die.” Izuku grips his own shirt, inhaling shakily before meeting Katsuki’s eyes. “So, please… respect my decision.”

Katsuki clicks his tongue in annoyance. “I would happily respect your decision, if it wasn’t the dumbest decision you ever made.” He crosses his arms. “Stop underestimating me.”

Izuku flinches, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What? I’m not-”

“You are,” Katsuki insists, stepping closer. “You are underestimating me and my feelings for you. How much I-“ He breathes shakily. “Guess what? You are not the only one with feelings around here, Izuku. I got hurt because I chose to-, I would rather be in that hospital bed than seeing you hurt any day.” He says, ignoring Izuku’s protests.

“You aren’t responsible for my injuries, I made the decision. I saw you in danger, I moved. That’s it, no one to blame but me. Get it through your thick skull and into your dumb brain: you don’t have to protect me from yourself. I don’t want it. I don’t fucking need it.”

Izuku’s expression crumbles, and Katsuki steps even closer, their faces inches apart. “You are a greedy person? Fine by me, because I am greedy, too.” Katsuki’s voice cracks slightly. “It’s not… It’s never enough for me to have you at an arm’s length. I want to have you around me. All the time. As close as you let me. The closer it’s possible.”

Katsuki feels a weight lifting off his chest as he finally admits out loud to Izuku what has been consuming his thoughts. He leans in slightly, the tip of his nose hovering over Izuku’s as green eyes stare surprised at him.

“Please,” Izuku whispers so faintly that Katsuki wouldn’t have listened it if he wasn’t all over Izuku’s space. “I- I wouldn’t survive loosing you.”

Katsuki sighs softly, his lips brushing against Izuku’s forehead. “I’m right here.” He promises. “Not going anywhere, Izuku.”

Izuku lets out a quiet sob, tears streaming down from his eyes. “Don’t cry,” Katsuki pleads gently, finally indulging himself as he tentatively raises his hands to Izuku’s cheek. “It breaks my heart when you do.”

Izuku’s shimmering green eyes stare at his as Katsuki’s thumbs brushes off the warm tears. The moment feels infinite. They stand both so close that it feels like they are sharing the very same breath. Katsuki’s eyes unconsciously flickers to Izuku’s bitten lips, catching the moment the tip of his tongue wet them in a casual, almost innocent manner. Lured by the sight before him, Katsuki feels a pull moving him forward, his lips floating right above Izuku’s, his eyes searching Izuku’s expression for any sign of hesitation. But Izuku flutters his eyes closed, lips parting slightly in a gentle unspoken invitation.

As far as first kisses go, their kiss is extraordinary. Katsuki holds Izuku’s face between his hands, and Izuku’s fingers clutches firmly at his waist as Katsuki pretends he knows what to do with his mouth. It’s messy and awkward and teeth brushing against each other. It’s all to raw and emotional as their lips move together in a frantic rhythm, neither of them quite knowing what to do, but unwilling to stop. When his tongue tentatively slips into Izuku’s mouth, and hesitantly brushes against Izuku’s, everything clicks into place. Izuku tastes like coffee and sugar cookies and his his his. Katsuki wants to drown in him.

Kissing Izuku is just like everything else they do together, just like a dance. Izuku doesn’t give up the lead easily, he nips Katsuki’s lower lip gently, slowly sliding his hands under Katsuki’s shirt, making him get lost in the feeling of having Izuku so close to him. But it is not enough, never enough. Katsuki groans softly, his hands slipping to the back of Izuku’s neck as he deepens the kiss. Instinctively, Katsuki slips a knee between Izuku’s legs, urging him to wrap them around Katsuki’s waist. Izuku strong legs lock him, their bodies presses together, and their mouths never stops moving and taking whatever piece of each other they can get to. Tilting Izuku’s head to the side, Katsuki places him on his work desk with reverent care.

“Shit-” Katsuki curses when they finally pull apart, gasping for air. Their foreheads rest together, and Katsuki exhales soundly over Izuku’s mouth, their chests raising in unison. 

Izuku is completely undone. His hair widely sticking to his forehead, his lips swollen in a beautiful red, matching the flush of his cheek. Katsuki stares at him. “Pretty.” He smiles softly, not resisting the quick sloppy kiss he places in Izuku’s lips.

“I love you.” Katsuki blurts out against his mouth, without hesitation. It feels like he has been holding on to this feeling all his life. Izuku snaps his head back to look at him, looking terrified for a moment. “You don’t have to say it back,” Katsuki reassures him. “I know it sounds like it’s too early… or too late. I don’t know.” He shakes his head as his thumb brushes tenderly against Izuku’s skin. “I just wanted you to know how I feel, had to let this shit out before it would explode inside me.”

Izuku looks lost. “I…” He hesitates, frowning as his mouths opens but no word comes out.

“It’s okay.” Katsuki says soothingly, leaning to kiss him again. “I love you.” He repeats it, just because he can.

“I-“ Izuku begins, frustration growing in his voice as he struggles to find the right words. “It’s not that-“

Before he can finish, he pulls Katsuki by the collar of his shirt, yanking him down for a desperate kiss, his mouth consuming all of Katsuki and stealing the air of his lungs. Izuku kisses him like he means something, wrapping his arms around Katsuki’s neck and bringing him closer closer closer. Katsuki doesn’t fight. He leans into the kiss, wecolming the warm home he finds inside Izuku’s mouth and matching Izuku in any way possible.

Katsuki kisses him until his lips are numb, their frantic pace turning into a slow brush of lips. As they share lingering kisses, Katsuki enjoys the undescribing feeling of having Izuku in his arms. Izuku’s fingertips grazes the skin of his back, when a voice cuts abruptly through the air.

“Izuku, dinner is ready.” Aizawa calls from outside the room, knocking lightly on the door. The sudden interruption makes them jump startled, their noses bumping against each other. ”Bakugo, I will take you back to school after you eat,” He continues, his voice slightly sharper. Katsuki rolls his eyes as he leans in to steal one more kiss from Izuku. “I hope you understand this is the first and last time I’ll turn a blind eye. Tonight, I will pretend you didn’t leave campus without permission.”

They wait until Aizawa’s steps fade before bursting into quiet laughter, Izuku smile against Katsuki’s lips, and Katsuki playfully bites it. He grazes his teeth over Izuku’s dimple that deepens directly under his lips.

“We have to go, Kacchan.” Izuku whines softly, though he makes no move to leave his place in the desk.

“I know.” Katsuki replies, his voice low as he nibbles on Izuku’s upper lip.

“Kacchan.” Izuku murmurs returning the kiss. He places a hand on Katsuki’s chest and gently pushes him back until their eyes meet. “You need to help me look presentable again.”

“Fine.” Katsuki sighs dramatically, slowly pulling away from him. His eyes trails over Izuku’s flushed face and his wide hair. “Yeah, presentable is not gonna happen.” He sorts.

Izuku laughs, playfully shoving Katsuki’s shoulders. “Shut up.”

They work together, Izuku wiping his face while Katsuki races his fingers through Izuku’s messy hair. A couple seconds later, they have a slightly more put together Izuku.

At dinner, their legs press close together in a subtle connection. Katsuki relishes on every lingering touch and fleeting glance, doing his best to ignore the blush flooding his face at the fact that their hands are secretly intertwined under the table, an unspoken promise to not let each other go.

Hizashi clears his throat, a knowing grin tugging at his lips. “So, Bakugo, I hear you are Izuku’s childhood friend,” He begins lightly, Katsuki politely nodding his head. “We have heard a lot about you.” Hizashi leans forward slightly.

“Not all of it good.” Aizawa points out dryly.

“Dad,” Izuku says in a warning tone, his grip on Katsuki’s hand tightening protectively.

“But good things, too.” Hizashi says, narrowing his eyes at Aizawa before turning back to Katsuki. “I heard that you’ve got a mean right hook.”

Katsuki chokes slightly, quickly taking a large gulp of water. “This is the good stuff you say about me?” He asks hoarsely, glancing at Izuku.

“It is a very good right hook.” Izuku grins, earning a fondly eye roll from Katsuki. “But they are just messing with you.” He gestures dismissively. Izuku smirks, pointing toward Aizawa. “Dad says you are his favorite.”

“Is that so?” Katsuki smirk, smugness dripping from his voice.

“That’s true!” Hizashi agrees enthusiastically.

“I have surrounded myself with snakes. I’m in a nest of snakes.” Aizawa mutters, taking a great interest in his meal. “Traitors.”

Izuku throws his head back giggling, the sound young, joyful and contagious. Biting back his smile, Katsuki tries to not give away how much it melts his insides.

They spend the rest of the dinner together in comfortable conversation, Katsuki having the chance to meet another side of his teachers as they joke around and laugh at his expense. He feels oddly welcome.

When ‘Raser announces it’s time to take Kacchan back to the dorms, Izuku almost pouts, unwillingly untangling their fingers and waving him goodbye from the table. Even if he doesn’t get the chance for a goodbye kiss, he has the memories of the countless kisses they have shared earlier. Izuku smiles softly, brushing his lips with his fingertips, recalling the feeling of being intoxicated by Kacchan.

“Wanna share what’s got you smiling like that, ‘Zuku?” Hizashi asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. For a moment, he had forgotten about his dad.

Izuku flushes bright pink, bitting down his smile. “Kacchan and I…” He begins, shyly placing his hands over his reddened cheeks. “We kissed.”

“That’s so sweet, ‘Zuku!” His dad exclaims warmly, resting his chin on his hands. “How was it? Did you like it?”

“It was amazing,” Izuku sighs dreamily. “I was very nervous at first, but now… I think it’s my dream job to kiss him forever.”

Hizashi chuckles softly, amused by his son’s expression. “How cute,” He coos, reaching out to place his hand on top of Izuku’s. “I’m so happy for you, ‘Zuku.”

Izuku nods, but his smile falters, as he lets out a quiet sigh, his brows frowning. “There is just one thing...” He mutters, catching Hizashi’s attention immediately. Taking a deep breath, Izuku blurts it out all at once. “He told me he loved me.”

“Oh, wow!” His dad’ eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Bakugo has always struck me as a go-big-or-go-home kind of guy.” He chuckles, but quickly notices Izuku crestfallen expression. “Zuku, don’t feel bad if you don’t feel the same way yet,” Hizashi says gently. “It happens differently for everyone.”

Izuku lowers his gaze to the table, inhaling sharply. “I know, but-“ He hesitates. “It’s not a matter of whether I love him or not.” He shakes his head. “I am way past of the denial phase.” A sad smile tugs into Izuku’s lips. “It’s just… I can’t say it out loud.”

Hizashi frowns, tilting his head in concern. “What do you mean?”

Izuku’s hands tremble slightly as he takes a shaky breath. “My love is doomed, dad.” He mutters, raising his voice when Hizashi shakes his head. “The moment I say it out loud… he will be out of my life, just like every person I have loved.”

‘Zashi stands from his chair, moving to kneel beside Izuku. “Izuku, honey,” His voice is filled with care as he tilts Izuku’s chin up so their eyes meet. “I’m so sorry you feel this way.”

Hizashi’s thumb brushes tenderly against Izuku’s cheek. “Such a big pain for such a young soul.” He murmurs. “Izuku, your love is not doomed.”

As Izuku opens him mouth to protest, Hizashi’s voice becomes more firm. “It isn’t doomed.” He repeats surely, locking eyes with his son. “There’s nothing cursed about you or the love you feel, my ‘Zuku.”

Izuku lets out a shaky sob, hiding his face in the crook of Hizashi’s neck. “I know it might feel like the only way love ends is in pain.” Hizashi whispers, running his fingers through Izuku’s hair. “But the bonds we make… the love it takes, it’s worth honey. Your love for your mom, for your Pops, for everyone special in your life, is wonderful and never cursed.”

“But they…” Izuku mutters weakly.

“You are not the reason they are gone.” Hizashi voice is unwavering, and at his unbreakable conviction, Izuku believes him.

“‘Zuku, loving means being vulnerable.” Hizashi’s voice is softer, like he is sharing a secret. “It is accepting that you might get hurt someday,” He smiles. “And yes, through a lifetime it will inevitably happen,” Hizashi adds fondly. “But when it happens, you will have even more love to carry you through it. It’s worth all the time, ‘Zuku. That’s what makes life worth living, honey.”

Izuku sighs, his voice breaking. “I am afraid of…” He hesitates. “I’m so afraid.”

Hizashi nods in understanding. “It’s okay to be afraid, ‘Zuku.” He says with a comforting smile. “But don’t let the fear stop you from experiencing the most precious thing in life. To love and to be loved in return.”

The room is quiet, only Izuku’s quiet, uneven breaths echoing. After a few seconds, Izuku finally admits. “I want to… so much.”

Hizashi smiles tenderly, pulling Izuku into a warm embrace, resting his chin on top of his messy hair. “You can take your time finding the words, ’Zuku. Why don’t we work together with baby steps?” Hizashi giggles. “I have a feeling your Kacchan isn’t going anywhere.”

Izuku’s chest warms at the thought of Kacchan. His Kacchan bravely pouring his heart out to Izuku, holding him like he is the most person in the world, like he matters. Izuku nods firmly. “Baby steps.” He whispers. “Kacchan deserves to know that I… that his feelings are reciprocated. I want to be as brave as him.”

“That’s the spirit, honey!” Hizashi smiles warmly at him.

Over the following days, Izuku works on getting comfortable with the word ‘love’. He has spent so much time convinced that his love is rotten, that it’s hard to grow out of the belief. Each night, he takes small steps, choosing three things he loves and saying them out loud, his voice trembling as he closes his eyes, expecting something to happen. And every night, he feels more confident in his love.

One morning, feeling a bit more braver, he decides it’s time to show Hizashi how much progress he has made. He watches closely as his dads enjoy breakfast, nervously rolling his own food around his plate.

“Every thing all right, Izuku?” ‘Raser asks him calmly but curiously.

Izuku inhales deeply. “Dad,” He begins, a soft smile growing on his lips. “I love your food.”

“Thank you honey.” Hizashi beams with pride. “I see you have find the words?”

Izuku sighs, his shoulders relaxing a little. “I… now I can say that I love things out loud.” Hizashi nods in encouragement. “I love creating. And watching tv shows with you guys and I love… spending time with Kacchan.”

He hesitates, exhaling shakily. “But I still don’t feel comfortable saying it directly to a person.”

‘Raser wonders for a moment. “Why don’t you practice with the cats?”

“That’s a great idea!” Hizashi claps enthusiastically. “That way, you can ease your mind around saying it to living things.”

Izuku’s eyes widen, he opens and closes mouth, looking very much like a startled bunny as Hizashi leans down under the table.

“Matcha! Perfect timing,” Hizashi exclaims. “Come here, sweetheart.” He scoops up Matcha, holding her direct her to Izuku’s face.

Izuku hesitantly takes Matcha to his arms, holding her closer to his chest. “But what if…”

“Zuku,” Hizashi interrupts gently. “Your love isn’t doomed. If something happens, it won’t be your fault.” He says, ever so patiently. “Trust me, honey.”

Izuku meets Matchas curious eyes. His voice breaks as he whispers. “Matcha, I love you.”

Matcha blinks attentively at him, meowing softly in contempt.

“See?” Hizashi’s eyes glimmer with emotion. “You are a natural at loving.”

That day, Izuku doesn’t hold back. He spends hours saying he loves every feline he can get his hands on. Pancake and Cleo are delighted, basking in his attention, while Catsby is more interested in nibbling at BlackWhip, wanting to play with it instead of being showered in love. It’s BonBon who amazes him the most. Her reaction is entirely sweet as she purrs loudly, licking his nose as if trying to reciprocate the sentiment. Hizashi was right, it’s an amazing thing to express his love and receiving it back.

By nightfall, Izuku bolts off to find his parents, who are lazily sharing a cup of tea in the living room.

“Dads.” He call out firmly, determination in his demeanor. “I… love you guys.” He whispers softly.

“I love you too, problem child.” ‘Raser replies immediately.

Hizashi grins proudly, his eyes shining with emotion. “I love you, ‘Zuku.”

Katsuki opens the door of his room, anticipation creeping through him, only to find it empty. Grumbling, he steps inside and yanks his phone out of his pocket. Ever since the day at Izuku’s house, Katsuki has made a habit of rushing across campus in the end of his afternoon classes, always finding Izuku already waiting for him. No matter how many times he faces the same scene, Katsuki’s heart races the same against his chest, trying desperately to say his own greetings to Izuku. Except, in the ending moments of that afternoon, Katsuki’s room is empty.

You (05:10 PM):

Are you coming, Nerd?

Katsuki entertains himself with his night routine. He takes a shower and seats in his desk to finish his homework, but his phone doesn’t buzz.

You (06:49 PM)

?

It stays completely silent, distracting Katsuki from the words in English before him, his mind coming up with every worst-case scenario that could happen to Izuku. He breathes in deeply, balling his hands into fists as he forces himself to continue writing his essay, even if every corner of himself is filled with Izuku Izuku Izuku.

A few minutes later, that surely felt like hours, Katsuki smiles softly when he hears the clear sound of his balcony door sliding open.

Without turning to face him, Katsuki mutters. “I was starting to think you had ditched me tonight.” He shrugs. “Not even a call or reply to my texts to let me know, though.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku greets, silent footsteps approaching him. “I’m sorry. I got caught up with the cats and my parents.”

Izuku wraps his arms around Katsuki’s neck from behind, pressing featherlight kisses to the side of his throat. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Izuku replies, grinning softly against Katsuki’s neck. “Everything is fine, now.”

Katsuki presses his lips against Izuku’s palm, leaning into Izuku’s touch. “I missed you.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku giggles breathlessly. “I was only a couple of hours later than my usual time.”

Sighing heavily, Katsuki shakes his head. “Might as well could have been years.”

“Dramatic.” Izuku teases, nibbling lightly at Katsuki’s shoulders.

“Mm-hm,” Katsuki hums in agreement.

Izuku snort, trailing his fingers along the curve of Katsuki’s neck. “Clingy.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Needy.” Izuku grins, stepping back just as Katsuki rises from his chair.

“I won’t deny the accusations.” Katsuki smirks, closing the space between them with a single step. “But I demand a fair trial.”

“Hi.” Izuku says, tilting Katsuki’s head slightly down as his glance lingers on Katsuki’s lips.

Katsuki’s smirk widens, his voice low and warm. “Hey.”

Not a moment too long, Izuku pulls him by the collar of his shirt, their lips moving in a rhythm only they know. Katsuki’s hands find their place on Izuku’s neck, his thumbs resting over the edge of his jawline. Izuku easily takes impulse, wrapping his legs around Katsuki’s middle as Katsuki walks blindly towards the wall, pressing Izuku against it, deepening the kiss. Izuku body melts against his, Katsuki groans lowly when Izuku scratches lightly the back of his neck, the tip of Izuku’s nails leaving semilunar marks as he pulls Katsuki closer.

Open mouthed kisses trails down Izuku’s neck, the boy tilting his head to the side, making space for Katsuki. Every time Katsuki gets to make Izuku pliant like this, feels like a victory. “Shit-“ Katsuki mutters under his breath. “I love you.” So attuned with Izuku’s body, he doesn’t misses the way Izuku tenses slightly, Katsuki pulling back immediately.

“Everything alright?” Katsuki asks, his hand cupping Izuku’s cheek as Katsuki searches for any clue on Izuku’s eyes.

Izuku blinks hazily at him, frowning in confusion at the sudden change of atmosphere. “Everything is fine, why?”

“I thought I had lost you for a second there.” Katsuki replies, slowly bringing his lips to kiss Izuku’s cheek.

Izuku has a tender look on his face, one that Katsuki would kill and die for. “You are never loosing me,” Izuku whispers against his mouth, before leaning away until their eyes meet. He draws in a shakily inhale and says.

“Kacchan, I love you.”

Katsuki eyes widen in surprise. Resting Izuku against the wall, Katsuki feels his legs shaking, afraid he might collapse into the ground. “You do?”

Izuku’s smile only widens as he nods.“I love you.” Izuku repeats, a soft giggle escaping him. “Loving you is all I ever know, Kacchan. I’m sorry it took me so long for me to say it.”

“Fuck.” Katsuki shakes his head, and doesn’t hold back his own smile. “Love you always, Izuku.” He lowers his head to meet izuku in an almost kiss, both of them grinning too much to deepen it.

Then, Izuku slides his tongue, licking into Katsuki’s mouth as he takes over their kiss. Katsuki matches his pace, his hands hungrily slipping into Izuku’s hair, pulling it lightly, and the throaty moan that Izuku lets out is enough to make blood rush through all of Katsuki’s body. Without breaking their kiss, Katsuki walks towards his bed, placing his hands in both sides of Izuku’s head, inhaling sharply at the completely lovestruck look Izuku has on him.

“I’m so thankful you found your way back to me.” Katsuki whispers. He leans down for a kiss, taken by surprise as Izuku shifts their position, Izuku pinning him down on the bed. Izuku’s leg placed on each side of his hip, fitting himself perfectly on Katsuki’s lap.

“Love you.” Izuku leaves warm, wet kisses on his face and down his neck, tugging at the collar of his shirt to make more room. He looks up to Katsuki, as he seats back on Katsuki, making red eyes roll with the newfound pleasure of the new position.

On top of him, Izuku grinds against Katsuki’s cloathed lap, breathy sounds coming out of his mouth every time his hips twitches down and into Katsuki’s bulge.

“Fuck shit fuck-” Katsuki curses when Izuku moans directly into his ear. “Can I-”

“Anything,” Izuku says, desperately trying to keep the pace of his hips. “Everything.”

Katsuki grips Izuku’s ass, firmly guiding it down to his lap, moving it forward and backwards as he leans his head back in pleasure.

“Please, Kacchan,” Izuku sobs, his voice hoarse against his skin. “Please please, I-”

Izuku slips his hand under Katsuki’s shirt, digging his nail against the skin of his side, as his tongue traces Katsuki’s neck. “Fucking hell, Izuku.”

“Kacchan Kacchan Kacchan.” Katsuki swallows every single sound Izuku’s makes as his hips falters slightly over him, his strong legs trembling.

“Shit, I’ve got you.” Katsuki says as he turns them over, holding Izuku’s wrist over his head, Katsuki rubs the tears prickling at his green eyes. Under him, Izuku’s messy hair is all over his sheet, his eyes wide, looking lost as his wet flushed mouth calls his name like a plea. “Fucking perfect like this.”

Katsuki thrusts down to meet Izuku’s hips, groaning every time they crash together. Izuku breaks his hands away from his hold, pulling Katsuki’s neck until their lips meet again.

“Kacchan I-“ The rhythm of Katuki’s thrust becomes erratic as Izuku rolls his eyes, tears spilling to his cheeks in the same time he bites his own lips to suppress a loud moan. “I’m-“

“Izuku-” Katsuki cuts himself as he licks into Izuku’s mouth, his hips chasing his relief.  “Me too, fuck.”

“Kacchan, Kacchan.” Izuku mumbles, panting into Katsuki’s neck, before biting down the junction of his shoulder after a specially hard thrust. “Katsuki.” Izuku comes with his name on his pretty mouth, Katsuki own pleasure following shortly after.

As his body goes limp, Katsuki rests all of his weight over Izuku, too drained to move, wanting to make home in Izuku. He looks down, lazily kissing Izuku’s cheek as green eyes look lovingly at him.

“How embarrassing,” Izuku breaks the silence after a moment of catching his breath. He smirks teasingly, placing a gentle kiss on Katsuki’s lips. “The Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight cumming in his pants.”

“Oi! Like you are any better, Deku,” Katsuki rolls his eyes, playfully biting Izuku’s cheek. “Shoes and everything.”

Izuku giggles, sighing softly. “Thank you… for not letting me go.”

Katsuki tightens his grip just a little, his voice firm. “I wanna spend the rest of our lives chasing after you.”

Izuku hearts skips a beat. “For the rest of our lives, huh?” He grins. “It sounds too much like a proposal.”

“Hah, you wish.” Katsuki snorts, but he is impossibly tender as he rubs their noses together. “It’s not a proposal, not yet.” He whispers, smiling at Izuku’s astonished expression. “But it is a promise.”

Izuku exhales shakily, his fingers running through Katsuki’s hair. “For the rest of our lives.” He echoes, his own voice sounding like a promise.