Chapter Text
Izuku remembers the day he first heard the news that the famous pro hero, Red Riot, had passed. It wasn't right away, maybe a few days after the incident, but he still remembers so clearly.
Remembers standing awkwardly in front of the check-out desk at the hospital, the plastic bag full of his own clothes clutched to his chest. The printers in the front were jammed and everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion when all Izuku wanted was to go home.
It felt like it took hours just to process discharge paperwork that day, and Rin had already started blowing up his phone with question marks and demands to know what the hell was taking so damn long.
For a brief moment, it crossed his mind that he could chuck the bag across the hall and scream at the top of his lungs and cause just enough of a scene that they'd force him to stay another day. Rin wouldn't have been able to do much about that. But just as quickly as the intrusive thought had rolled through, he decided better of it. (That had to mean one of the new meds was working at least, right?)
He reached up to pull the strings of his hoodie tighter, only to be met with the absence of said strings. By this point, none of his hoodies had their strings anymore, and the same went for several pairs of sweatpants. Going outside in those stringless hoodies used to make him feel self conscious, as if everyone who saw him would just know. They'd know that his clothes were missing strings because he'd been hospitalized one too many times and that no one ever trusted him to not kill himself. As he'd gotten older, though, he realized that the only people who would make that same connection would be the ones who'd been through the same shit.
“...A public memorial service will be held tomorrow evening via candlelight…”
Izuku looked up at the small screen hanging on the wall across from him, blinking as his brain slowly processed what was happening.
“Who died?” He asked the receptionist, his voice still hoarse and lacking energy.
“Huh?” she seemed puzzled for a moment before following his gaze to the screen behind her. “Oh, yeah. Just last week. There was an accident or something… Red Riot was killed in battle.”
“That's…But he's so young and he's got such a great defensive quirk,” Izuku choked out, emotion rushing to his chest from seemingly nowhere. He met the hero in passing by a stroke of luck once. But it didn't seem real or fair for someone like that to die.
“Heroes have dangerous jobs, it happens,” she sighed. “Everyone is really upset, though. He was always really lovable, I think.”
“No, I think everyone is upset because it was Dynamight's fault,” another receptionist chimed in.
Dynamight?
Izuku’s mind immediately flashed to the magazine posters he had saved in the bottom of a drawer at home. He could go on and on for hours about how cool (and hot) Dynamight was.
“That's insane, how was it his fault?” the first receptionist scoffed.
“His quirk caused the building to fall. That's what everyone is saying. Look, I know it's a sad situation but I'm tired of the damn city getting torn up from quirks like that.”
“It was an accident. Besides, I read a rumor that the two of them were dating.”
Izuku had heard that rumor, too. He'd scoured social media and message boards to try to find evidence of it being true, too, and nothing ever seemed conclusive.
Then the television switched to footage of an interview, or an attempted interview, of Dynamight himself trying to get through a crowd of reporters, his hood pulled tightly over his eyes to try and hide his face. Confirmed or not, Izuku couldn't help but think about how horrible it must have felt to have reporters in his face, accusing him of killing someone he loved. Especially when all he ever did was try to protect people.
—
It's weird being in the office late at night. Their floor is mostly empty, and far too quiet, which makes him thankful that he doesn't have to be alone in Kacchan's office. Instead, Izuku is set up near Yaoyorozu, who's been in constant communication with the team out in the field.
Izuku isn't really sure what's going on, but he's fine with the situation.
“And now we wait,” she finally sighs, sitting back in her chair. She's dressed more casually today, wearing a sweater and letting her hair hang loose down her back. Everyone that Kacchan knows is beautiful, it seems.
“Are they okay?” Izuku asks.
“Yeah, it's a recon mission. There shouldn't be much action if all goes well,” she explains. “I might even send you home, actually.”
“Can't I stay here until he gets back?” The thought of walking back to Kacchan's apartment and sleeping there by himself is a little unsettling.
“If that's what you want. We might be here a while, though.”
“It is.” He swallows as she folds her hands under her chin, studying him intently. She doesn't look annoyed or anything, just like she's trying to figure him out. Izuku is very much used to those sorts of looks from people.
“How is that going, by the way? I was surprised when I heard you were staying with Katsuki,” she says.
“Really? Why?”
“I should say I mean that in a good way,” she adds, with a warm smile. “He's been a bit reclusive ever since…It's been a while since he's seemed happy.”
“Does he seem happy?” Izuku perks up a little.
“Relatively speaking, yeah,” she shrugs.
“He's really kind. I don't know why he's doing all of this for me, but it's really nice. On TV he always seemed so tough and cool and in person, he's completely different.” It's true. Real life Kacchan is a lot softer than anyone on the outside seems to be aware of.
“The media hasn't ever been kind to him, but the past few years have been especially hard.”
“You always seem so strict with him.” Izuku blurts it out without thinking, and he can tell that Yaoyorozu isn't expecting his comment. He wonders if he should back track, but she responds before he even gets the chance.
“It's hard being both his boss and his friend. We went to school together…all of us did, actually. If I wasn't strict or hard on him, he'd fall apart. He's always been so passionate about heroics and even if it makes me seem like the bad guy sometimes, I'm not going to let him fail.” She sounds so committed to her own words. “I know that he knows that, too.”
Izuku swallows hard, not sure what to say. It feels odd being on the outside of someone else's trauma for once. To see everyone so affected by something that happened that had nothing to do with him. It's not a good feeling, of course. And it's not like he wants to share in this particular experience. Maybe humbling is the right word for it? He's not sure.
“What happened that day? Like, what actually happened?” Izuku asks. “All I know is what I've seen on the news.”
Yaoyorozu lowers her eyes for a moment, and Izuku immediately feels bad for asking her to recount the tragic death of one of her close friends.
“It wasn't Katsuki's fault. There was a delay on the comm line and he had to act quickly or that villain would have killed a lot of people. He didn't know that…That Kirishima hadn't…He didn't know.”
Izuku blinks, warding off tears that threaten to leak. “But the media blames him.”
“Not really. Not anymore…But Katsuki blames himself. I think even more so than his grief, he carries with him this…this guilt of knowing his quirk was what objectively caused his death.”
“I can't imagine how that must feel,” Izuku says quietly.
“Really?”
“What do you mean?” Izuku blinks back.
“Just…nothing. Remember, we've known each other for a while now, too. I think you and Katsuki are more similar than you think. You both like to take on all the blame when bad things happen.”
“Oh,” Izuku says, looking down into his lap. “You haven't told him, right?”
“I promised I wouldn't.”
It shouldn't be kept a secret like this, but Izuku can't help but feel embarrassed. The short version is that Izuku didn't get this job just by chance, and the long version is…well, a lot more than that.
The truth is, after his last major manic episode, it had been Creati who found him. He'd been coming down, sitting on that beach in the cold as his actions really started to sink in.
It was one of the many times in the past he really thought he was ready to leave Rin. That he was finally going to run far away and build a house and start over from scratch. Sitting in that cold sand and realizing he'd been in the midst of a manic episode was the worst he'd ever felt. Like he'd been gaslit by his own brain, tricked once again into thinking there was something better out there for him.
None of it was real.
He didn't know how long he sat there for, just that his fingers and toes were numb by the time he heard sirens in the distance. If he hadn't felt so paralyzed, so numb, he probably would have jumped into the water and let the waves carry him out to sea.
Izuku had danced this dance before; he knew in an instant there would be an officer on his ass, yelling at him and cuffing him in an instant. Nevermind the crisis in his head, he'd apparently broken some sort of law along the way.
It was different that time, though.
Instead of an officer, a pro hero had approached and sat down in the sand next to him, calm and collected.
“Izuku, right?” Creati had asked him. Izuku didn't blink or nod, just continued to stare out at the water as his vision blurred. “I'm here to help.”
“Help? That's funny,” Izuku mumbled, mostly to himself. When he spoke, he found that his throat hurt, maybe from the cold, maybe not.
She didn't validate that with any sort of reply. Instead there was a moment of silence, and then the next thing Izuku knew, she was draping a heated blanket around his shoulders. It was warm, but more than that, it was oddly comforting. Like maybe she actually didn't want to see him freeze to death as punishment for acting like an idiot.
After that, she talked to him for a while. She told him that he'd been flagged as missing, that he had a warrant out for his arrest because he'd stolen a car and threatened several people at a hardware store.
The worst part about coming down from mania, Izuku thinks, is that he usually remembers what he did. Or most of it, anyway. Lost time is jarring, but it's never as bad as having to replay everything in his head and hating himself more and more. Shame, guilt, and anger feel all-consuming because when his head is clearer he can't escape the reminder that he should have known better.
Creati also told him that she wanted to help him out. Apparently they had crossed paths before, something about an incident she encountered when she was younger and working as an intern for a different agency. The basic gist was that she knew Izuku's prior run-ins with the law, and that they were almost always related to his history of mental illness and abuse.
“I don't need you to feel sorry for me,” he told her.
“That's not what this is about,” she insisted. “It's about striking up a deal. You can come work for my agency, and in return, I can make those charges go away.”
Izuku didn't fully believe her at the time, but he didn't see any better option other than to agree with her proposition. He let her escort him into the back of an ambulance so that he could be evaluated, which led to a short hospital stay.
Rin didn't come to pick him up that time. He'd left a message on his phone saying that he's tired of always picking him up from the damn hospital, and that it was his own fault for getting admitted because he should have refused.
Yaoyorozu was the one who ended up giving him a ride that day. He got into her car and he made it maybe three seconds before he burst into tears.
It was all his fault that Rin was mad at him.
He should have remembered to take his meds.
He's been through this so many times before, so he should be better now.
Why isn't he better now?!
Clearly, though, it seems like he's made the right choice when he looks back. Maybe he went home that day and Rin sent him to sleep on the couch with a necklace of bruises. But it was the first step in the right direction.
“For what it's worth, I'm sure he'd understand,” Yaoyorozu says, after a while. Izuku's throat tightens, and he nods along with her because he knows that. The problem isn't that Kacchan would suddenly think he's a bad person because he's essentially still on probation. There's no way in hell he'd think that, actually.
“Yeah,” is all Izuku says.
“ But…” she prompts, automatically sensing that there's something else on his mind.
“Nothing. It's stupid.”
There's an uncomfortable silence that falls between them, and it feels like it stretches on for hours. Izuku's stuck in that place of wanting to open up, yet not trusting himself to not turn into a blubbering mess.
Thankfully, Yaoyorozu is the one who ends up breaking the silence first.
“Kirishima would have liked you,” she says, quietly. Her voice is so low he thinks he might have imagined it for a second.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Izuku asks, his voice cracking despite his best efforts to stay composed. “It doesn't matter what he'd think of me, because if he was still here, then I wouldn't even be on Kacchan's radar, you know?! I'm not a hero. I'm not even a good person.”
He didn't mean to yell. He really didn't.
“I think people say it because it's true…and because it's not for you, it's for Katsuki.”
Izuku forgets to breathe for a second, staring down at his lap. Any argument he'd had planned in his head is gone in an instant, just like that.
“What do you mean? That's—”
“Look, I wasn't born yesterday, I know there's something going on between the two of you. I just need you to know that if he likes you enough to show it, that he's had to fight some pretty big demons in his own head to get to that point.” She pauses to let out a long sigh. “Basically, don’t keep making excuses for yourself. He keeps you around because he wants to have you around. I didn’t tell him to do all that.”
Izuku furrows his brow, but doesn't respond. He thinks back to the night before, finding Kacchan huddled on the couch in the early hours of the morning. There's a lot he still doesn't know about Kacchan, isn't there? Izuku doesn't know what it's like to lose someone in such a horrible way, but he does know what it's like to be fighting a battle that no one else can see.
“I really like him,” Izuku whispers. “But I don't think I deserve to. I've got too much baggage you know?”
“You're the one making that assumption,” Yaoyorozu shrugs. “Then again, if you're not honest with him about your baggage, how's going to know whether or not he can carry it?”
Izuku narrows his eyes. “What magazine did you read that in?”
“I'm just giving my two cents.” She smiles as Izuku spins around in his chair. “We don't have to keep talking about this if you don't want to.”
“It's okay,” Izuku mumbles, though his mind is already wandering away from the conversation anyway.
For the most part, Izuku has been up-front about his situation with Kacchan, and the world hasn’t stopped turning. But for whatever reason, admitting to him that he got this job instead of jail time seems impossible. Yeah, he can accept that Izuku’s made some bad choices and has a mental illness that can make his life hell, but would he be able to accept the fact that Izuku has broken laws? That he’s basically a criminal?
No, he’d hate him for sure.
He looks up when Yaoyorozu gets a message from one of her communication lines. She immediately switches gears, serious and ready for business.
“What’s the status?” she asks, pausing as the person on the other line fills her in. Izuku can’t hear what the other person is saying, but it must be pretty serious with the way that Yaoyorozu immediately furrows her brow and starts furiously typing away at her computer. “Pulling up the files now…”
She dives right into a bunch of industry jargon, leaving Izuku in a state of awkward confusion. He’s not helping much by just sitting there, but there isn’t really anything else for him to do, is there? Instead, he just waits patiently until Yaoyorozu hangs up the comm line. When she does, he’s ready to jump in and ask questions, but she stops him and picks up the phone on her desk instead.
“This is Creati, I need to get a status update on two of you inmates,” she says. The word inmates catches Izuku’s attention and he sits up a little straighter. She gives out two names that Izuku doesn’t recognize, then after a brief waiting period she adds, “These two were spotted earlier by the docks. We’re currently investigating the situation, but I suggest you increase security for the time being and do a more thorough headcount of all of your inmates.”
And then she hangs up without another word, clearly agitated.
“What’s wrong?” Izuku asks. “Are Kacchan and the others okay?”
“They’re fine, they haven’t made contact yet, but they were able to identify two people that are currently supposed to be in prison. We’ll have to investigate more, but something isn’t sitting right on this one,” she says.
“Which prison?” Izuku asks.
He doesn’t like the way that Yaoyorozu hesitates before giving him an awkward smile. “Don’t worry about it, okay? We’re going to figure it out.”
“It’s the one Rin’s staying at, isn’t it?” he asks her, his throat tightening.
“Well…Yes. But like I said, you don’t need to worry about that. He’s not involved with this,” she assures him.
Izuku accepts her answer, but his uneasy feeling doesn’t really go away.
In fact, it’s still there hours later when he’s on his way back to the apartment with Kacchan, bubbling in his gut and sitting on his chest.
“You alright?” Kacchan asks him, noticing silence once they’re alone. Izuku shrugs, not really sure how to verbalize what he’s thinking about, or what this uncomfortable feeling is.
“Don’t know,” he mumbles.
“Well there’s nothing to worry about, ya know? Yaoyorozu gets all serious about this stuff, but it doesn’t have to mean it’s the end of the world,” he offers. Kacchan speaks vaguely, and Izuku can hear in his voice that he’s exhausted from being out all night. It wouldn’t be right to stress Kacchan out about nothing.
Despite knowing that, the words spill out anyway.
“She said you guys found prisoners from the same place Rin’s at and it didn’t sound like the jail even knew they were gone.” He doesn’t mean to snap, especially since he’s not really sure what part he’s more mad about. Is he worried about Rin? Is he scared? “And don’t tell me not to worry! Yaoyorozu already told me that!”
“You’re right, we did,” he sighs. “Two guys that weren’t reported missing, both with sentences for unrelated crimes. Something’s not adding up, but as far as I’m aware it has nothing to do with Rin.”
“You would tell me if it did?”
“If you wanted me to.”
Izuku’s nostrils flare as he thinks it over. Would he want to know, or would it be better to be blissfully unaware? No, no, no. There’s never been such a thing as blissful when it comes to being unaware.
“Yes, I want you to.” Izuku frowns.
“Then, fine. I’ll tell you,” he says. “And the honest truth is that as of right now, there’s no connection.”
Izuku swallows, his throat still painfully tight. “Okay, thank you Kacchan.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, not opening them again until the car stops. Kacchan stays where he is for a moment, not getting out of the car, his hands still gripping the steering wheel.
“Are you…okay?” he asks quietly. Kacchan turns to face him, his brow furrowed tight in an expression that Izuku isn’t sure how to interpret. “What?”
“Sorry, fuck,” he groans, shaking his head. “I know this is immature as hell, but… I hate that you’re so worried about that guy.”
Izuku just stares for a moment, letting Kacchan’s words sink in. Is he…Jealous? Normally, Izuku wouldn’t allow himself the luxury of thinking something like that, but his earlier conversation with Yaoyorozu still lingers in the back of his mind. Suddenly, the tightness in his chest is more of a weird bubbly feeling.
Without thinking about it anymore, he leans over his seat and quickly kisses Kacchan’s cheek. His own face burns with embarrassment as Kacchan’s eyes widen, not expecting the sudden gesture.
Izuku clears his throat. “Stop worrying about that, Kacchan.”