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Katsuki’s all dressed up, looking like a million dollars, and smelling amazing thanks to some expensive cologne he got for his previous birthday.
He’s sitting on his living room’s couch with a crossed leg that won’t stop bouncing, phone going from one fidgeting hand to the other. To anyone who doesn’t know him, it might look like he’s anxious to go out on a first date or something like that, but in reality, Katsuki’s only anxious about Izuku arriving at his apartment.
They had agreed to go out for dinner together tonight, since it’s been forever since they last saw each other in person. Neither of them is calling the dinner a date per se, but to some, it could be considered something of that kind.
Something of that kind.
Izuku is already thirty minutes late, though. Hence all the bouncing and the fidgeting and overall unquiet feeling from Katsuki’s part.
They had agreed to meet at Katsuki’s place first so they could head to a restaurant together afterward, but there’s no sign of Izuku just yet. A bit annoyed about being kept waiting and growing increasingly anxious that something wrong might have happened to Izuku during patrol, Katsuki decides to finally give in and call him.
The phone rings, rings, and rings. Izuku doesn’t answer the call, much to Katsuki’s dismay and growing anxiety, but before he can try to hit dial again and call him a second time, Katsuki receives a quick text notification from him.
From: Izuku
Sorry, Kacchan, something came up and I can’t make it today. Let’s reschedule? :-)
Katsuki’s face falls; his heart drops. He bites at his lower lip and turns his head aside in annoyance, disapproval, and… something else that makes his chest ache. “Tch.”
He locks the phone screen without providing Izuku with a yes or no answer to the rescheduling suggestion, tossing the device aside on the couch. He then bends over, undoes his fancy shoes, and tosses them aside as well on the floor, angry. Getting up and undoing his tie, he feels a bit like an idiot as he walks back into his bedroom to remove the rest of his expensive clothes.
He should have seen this coming. It’s all that’s been happening lately, anyway. He and Izuku schedule something up, anything, and at the last minute, Izuku lets him know he won’t be able to make it because something (more) important came up. It fills Katsuki with frustration and an unnamable feeling that he can’t quite put his finger on, but that makes his chest throb painfully inside his chest.
(It’s almost like he misses Izuku and desperately wants to spend time with him. Which, to middle-school-Katsuki, would have sounded ridiculous, but to current-Katsuki, doesn’t.)
Katsuki likes Izuku. He likes spending time with him, talking with him, as hard as that is to admit. He likes having him around.
But he hasn’t had him around. Not in a long, long while.
Katsuki sighs, puts some indoors clothes on, and goes to bed with an angry grunt. It’s getting late, anyways; he’d be better off catching some sleep instead of wasting his time on what could have been. Or sulking over the nerd.
However, unlike it usually happens, sleep doesn’t come to Katsuki as easily as it often does that night. His thoughts keep circling back to Izuku… and to what to do about him, to what he feels.
What the nerd makes him feel is strong, and it sits heavily and uncomfortably on the bottom of his stomach; Katsuki can’t really name it or understand it, but he can in the very least acknowledge it’s there. It throbs hot and stingy like an open wound in the middle of his chest – and he would know a thing or two about that feeling specifically.
Katsuki and Izuku have been friends for a little over two decades now, with all the ups and downs in their relationship. The long years they’ve known each other are the very reason why Katsuki thinks it was always inevitable, from the beginning, for them to eventually drift apart. Nobody’s friendship lasts for that long, right? It was only a matter of time before they grew bored of each other, before they started to miss each other less and less. Or, at least, it was only a matter of time before Izuku started forgetting all about Katsuki.
For Katsuki, it doesn’t hurt any less – the knowledge that their friendship was doomed from the very start, and the fact that their friendship is currently ending. It doesn’t hurt any less to have expected that end, and to have mentally prepared for it over the course of months, the more their texting sessions become rarer, more strained, and more short-lived. It doesn’t hurt any less to lose Izuku for good, no matter how much Katsuki tried to brace himself for the inevitable, metaphorical impact.
Sometimes, Katsuki thinks he needs to screw his courage to the sticking place and fight for their friendship before it finally reaches the point of no return, before it finally becomes unsalvageable – they’ve been through too much together to just… accept such a lackluster ending to everything like that. But his sense of pride is still fierce and strong as ever, and he just doesn’t have it in him to recur to humiliating himself in order to earn Izuku’s scraps of attention.
If Izuku is okay with being away from him, if he doesn’t want to fight for their friendship – there must be a reason. There must be a good reason. And Katsuki isn’t getting in the way of that.
The truth is, Katsuki was always toxic, in several ways, for Izuku. He has started seeing things for what they are somewhere along the way, after being dismissed and stood up by Izuku for the hundredth time: Izuku is probably better off without him, as much as that hurts to admit, as much as it feels unnatural for him to admit that he’s not good at something, for someone.
And Katsuki – Katsuki refuses to get on Izuku’s way to happiness; at least he refuses to keep doing it like he always seemed to do. If Izuku wants to keep distance like he’s been doing – Katsuki will go with it.
It’s probably for the best, anyway, since all Katsuki’s thoughts from recently have been swirling around Izuku, Izuku, Izuku… It’s fucking distracting and time-consuming.
He’s probably better off without Izuku, too – this way, he can concentrate on his damn job and save some lives without being so absent-minded all the time. It doesn’t matter that it hurts with a vice, making his torn-apart heart throb and pulse with pain at each beat in which he remembers Izuku’s voice or face or smell…
As much as they’re no longer the same friends as they used to be, and as much as Katsuki believes his thoughts over Izuku are too damn distracting and consuming, he’ll still do his best to ensure that Izuku’s happy. It’s the least he can do after everything, anyway. It’s the least he can do, no matter how much the memories of their former UA teenage years hurt Katsuki’s heart and make him downright yearn for Izuku’s attention, just for a little bit, just for a short while – whatever he can get.
He misses playing video games and ranting and watching All Might documentaries together. He misses Izuku’s warmth and his laughter and his smiles. He even misses his damn unceasing muttering, even if he would never admit that aloud.
He truly, deeply wishes, though, that they could spend more time together, that they could see each other in person more often, even if Izuku’s evidently too busy with his teacher-slash-pro-hero life and Katsuki has his own businesses to attend to. But that... that’s just adulthood, he supposes. Right?
Right?
At some point, Katsuki ends up finding some sleep from sheer tiredness, although it takes him way longer than usual. The last thing on his mind before he ends up losing consciousness is Izuku, as it has been happening often in the past months.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Katsuki’s thumb hovers and trembles softly over the text message app’s send button.
He’s just found out about some new limited-edition All Might merch that’s about to be launched and he’s dying to share it with Izuku, to find out his opinion about it, but he’s uncertain whether he should send it to him. Not because Izuku might not like it, of course not – it’s All Might merch, after all –, but because that message would finally put an end to the months-long awkward radio silence between them, and then Katsuki wouldn’t know what to do with himself afterward.
Their texts to each other became scarcer, more spaced out, and rarer, until they eventually stopped altogether around one month ago or so. The same goes for their calls, which used to be daily at some point. Some faraway point way back in the past.
Katsuki constantly thinks about Izuku, reaching the point of asking for news about the nerd to All Might or to Aizawa because Izuku himself… simply stopped answering him. Altogether. As if Katsuki’s presence in his life is completely indifferent to him, as if Katsuki doesn’t matter.
And this shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, but it… it still throbs. It should infuriate and offend Katsuki, because how dare anyone put him aside like a broken toy like that? But in all truthfulness, it aches. It just aches.
Katsuki deep down wishes he was important to Izuku. He wishes he mattered to him enough for him to send updates over text at least, after everything they ever went through, without it having to feel forced or awkward about it. But that’s evidently not the case, and Katsuki decides he won’t impose anymore. He just won’t.
He’s already imposed on Izuku a lot. He did it too much throughout their lives. He’s done being a hindrance, an – an obligation. He’s done being a burden Izuku should carry just – why? Because they happened to meet each other during their early childhoods and became friends from then on? No.
Katsuki refuses to be Izuku’s cross to carry.
He feels weird and awkward from how insecure and self-deprecating Izuku’s been making him feel; that’s not usually like him at all, but he literally can’t help it. He wants, he genuinely wants Izuku to be happy, and if his presence – or lack thereof – in Izuku’s life doesn’t make a difference to him, he won’t force things. He can keep getting his updates from All Might and Aizawa just fine, and he can keep an eye on Izuku from the distance just in case he’s ever needed again.
It’s all for Izuku, in the end. His suit, his dream, him. He’s all that matters.
So, Katsuki erases the message from the texting app, closes it, locks his phone and puts it away without ever sending that link with the All Might merch to Izuku. Then, with a tired, sad sigh, he heads to his agency’s changing room so he can put on his hero gear before he heads to his daily patrol, already absentminded because of all his daydreaming about Izuku again.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Izuku is super, duper busy.
He had never expected for a hot minute that becoming a teacher would be a walk in the park, no, but he never envisioned it to be this hard and all-consuming, either. He barely has any spare minutes to breathe, eating meals has become multitasking with other responsibilities, toilet breaks are a faraway dream, and so is hanging out with his UA friends, which he hasn’t seen in what feels like forever. He barely sees his own mother these days!
On top of all that… he’s gone back to being a pro-hero again, even if it’s only part-time. Because of course he’d make good use of Kacchan’s – and his other friends’ – thoughtful gift for him. He couldn’t just let the suit sit in a corner of his apartment collecting dust only because he was already busy with his students’ assignments! He could handle both, he was certain of it. He could manage it.
Or so he thought.
Because of his busy routine, the occasions during which he finds a few spare seconds to use his phone, when he’s not too caught up correcting essays or assigning grades or attending to UA board meetings, are dedicated to answering teacher-related questions and replying to a few stray texts from his friends – the ones that he can get his hands on, all out of order and jumbled up. It’s not always he gets to answer everyone, and he doesn’t really have a criteria as to who he’ll answer first – he just does his best to keep up with everyone’s lives, even if his best is not always enough – anywhere near it.
Izuku’s evidently overworking himself – he doesn’t think too much about it, he doesn’t even acknowledge it, as it’s his usual M.O. He internalizes everything and goes with the flow, because this is his life now – this is his job. It’s his duty, and it’s what he needs to do.
He needs to fully dedicate himself to teaching and to being a pro-hero. He needs to do his job to the best of his capacity and be there for his students and for the UA staff when they need him. On top of that, he found the once in a lifetime chance to keep on living his life-long dream. He can’t just throw that in the trash like it doesn’t mean anything.
It doesn’t matter how much he misses his friends, Mom, and even All Might – he has a job to do. It doesn’t matter that he misses Kacchan and their late-night talks and the hang-out sessions that they used to have back at UA, and also a few years after school ended – during the end of their teenagerhood, when Izuku started attending college and Kacchan was gathering up money to start his hero agency from scratch.
None of it matters – all that matters is his duty.
Did Izuku realize that Kacchan has been sending him less and less texts, or calling him less and less often? Yes. But only in the back of his mind, probably. He doesn’t really acknowledge much of anything these days, other than the fact that he has a busy routine now, and that he must dedicate himself entirely to it and dive in head-first. That’s all that matters to him, to the point he downright bails on Kacchan when they agree to meet each other for dinner, just because of the sheer number of papers he had to correct after he returned home late from patrol.
Kacchan hadn’t complained about him bailing – he hadn’t even said anything, much to Izuku’s subconscious surprise, but he presumes the uncanny silent treatment from his short-fused friend is still better than being furiously yelled yet. Izuku wouldn’t want to have yet another argument with Kacchan, especially not when he’s so busy and buried with schoolwork and late-night patrols…
Days pass by, which turn into weeks, which turn into months and months and months that go by with Izuku buried in work and pro-hero duties. Kacchan begins to text him less and less often, and so, Izuku texts him back more rarely too, until they sort of “drift apart” and stop talking altogether. Izuku misses Kacchan terribly, he can’t lie to himself, but he also can’t find a single moment to breathe. Maybe they can work on catching up and getting along again next time he has a proper day-off or some vacations, which he hasn’t had in forever…
Those plans never come to fruition, though. Because something – something horrible – happens before Izuku gets the chance to even daydream about free time.
Izuku is tiredly teaching his usual class in the morning at UA when his eyes catch a student trying to be sneaky about using their phone during his lecture. And while a bit frustrated, Izuku knows better than to be snappy about it; they’re just kids, after all.
So, he simply sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Guys, we’ve talked about this. No phones during class unless it’s for research purposes, okay?”
His words, however, seem to have the opposite effect. More students start pulling out their phones after several devices ping with notification sounds. The students start muttering and darting their wide eyes between Izuku and whatever it is they’re watching in their hands, which has Izuku frown in concern, confusion, and a familiar sense of anxiety that almost resembles Danger Sense. Just almost, like a phantom memory.
He grabs his own phone to check what’s going on – only for his stomach to drop painfully and abruptly, his face growing pale, when the latest news pop up on his main recommendations page.
The headline of the hero news channel simply says: “Pro-hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight defeated gruesomely in the hands of unknown villain”.
As Izuku’s eyes skim further below, desperate to find and absorb more details, more information, he reads that “Hero Shouto came to the rescue, but not before major damage was done” and that “his injuries seem grave, but there are no news as of currently to reassure the hero’s fans of his physical state.”
Below, there’s an amateur video of the fight. Izuku’s not thinking straight when he clicks it right away, without hesitation.
He shouldn’t have done that. Not in front of his class.
He sees Kacchan battling a huge-looking villain downtown. But instead of being a regular day in the pro-hero business, the fight looks… really bad? Kacchan seems injured, too injured to be still standing given his heart condition and his arm’s history, and the villain is clearly taunting him about something, which is making Kacchan angrier, thus making him lose his already short temper and rush into action instead of strategizing.
Izuku watches with horror as the villain says something unintelligible and downright smashes Kacchan to the ground like he’s nothing but some sort of bug, before Kacchan can even think of reacting with those cat-like reflexes of his.
The phone drops from Izuku’s hands with a loud clack.
He takes a couple shaky steps back before he dashes out of his classroom without saying anything to his students, without answering their calls of his name or shouts after him, entering the main hall and running straight toward the UA’s entrance.
Izuku’s mind is a whirlpool of guilt and worry and despair, and he can barely concentrate on one thought at once. He realizes with pain in his racing heart that he can’t lose Kacchan, not again, not like this, not when they’ve grown so far apart and haven’t seen each other in ages. Why haven’t they seen each other in ages?
God, Izuku had really turned his back on him, hadn’t he? He’s been allowing the distance between them to grow, but it was only because – because he didn’t want to impose himself onto Kacchan! And because he was busy juggling with the teacher and the pro-hero life! It was never supposed to end like this. It was never supposed to end at all!
Izuku realizes with horror that he’s been stupid, so stupid. That he should have made time for his friend – and for his other friends, too, and his mother! – amidst his busy routine, no matter what. His students were very important, civilians were very important, of course they were, but so were his friends and his family and his loved ones. If only Izuku had established his limits and focused on his own happiness for once in his life… If he hadn’t overworked like an idiot like he always tends to do, prioritizing everyone else…!
He only comes to realize that he’s freaking out completely when Aizawa materializes in front of him, unbeknownst to Izuku that the teacher had been searching for him as soon as he got the news about his former student.
Hands on his shoulders and calm words are slowly computed by Izuku’s racing brain: “How much do you know already? You have to control your breathing. You have to control your heart, Midoriya. You have to get yourself together.”
Izuku tries his best to do so, to calm down and rationalize and to control his heart, but he knows it for a fact – he’s messed up big time, and now he might lose Kacchan forever without ever getting the chance to tell him how important he truly is to him. He can’t just control his heart – he never could, when it came to Kacchan.
Aizawa has something in one of his hands that’s holding Izuku’s shoulder – his phone, Izuku realizes, and it’s still playing the video of Kacchan’s lost fight against the villain. In the amateur footage, Izuku sees as Todoroki arrives at the scene and freezes the huge villain just when paramedics start loading Kacchan’s too-still, broken body onto a stretcher and dragging him away.
Izuku simply can’t watch it anymore.
“I’m – I-I’m leaving,” Izuku announces. He doesn’t ask for permission like he usually would – he simply lets Aizawa know. “I can’t stay here while he – I’m – Please take my class over, I’m meeting him at the hospital.”
“Midoriya –!” Aizawa tries, but before he can complete that thought, Izuku turns on his heels and leaves UA without a second thought, heading to the General Hospital.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
The general hospital has been turned into a pandemonium when Izuku arrives.
He has to nearly punch his way across the sea of reporters that are blocking the main entrance, and when they finally notice it’s him, the situation only gets worse. He gets swarmed by a sea of people trying to talk to him and get answers out of him, as if he would know something having just arrived at the scene, and he’s not in his right mind right now, meaning he doesn’t decline politely or says he’s not taking questions – he just pushes and shoves his way through silently, a glare in his green eyes.
When he finally manages to get into the building, he sees friends who he hasn’t met in person in literal months. They all crowd him immediately like sharks smelling blood in the water, and they all try to talk to him at the same time amidst tears and cries of worry, which is way too much for Izuku’s overworked, panicking brain, so he regrettably forces himself to ignore most of them as he continues to push, shove, and bump his way to the front desk.
Kaminari and Uraraka are the only ones who dare following him there, and Kaminari keeps rambling even though it’s clear Izuku’s only capable of half-listening right now. “Dude, you don’t look so hot. Maybe try to sit down a bit and ease your mind a bit. I mean, things aren’t looking great right now, but I’m sure Bakugou will be fine, he’s the best of us, after all. And he’s been through worse, right? He’s definitely been through worse, so you don’t have to look so worried…”
He keeps trying to talk to Izuku as they arrive at the front desk, Uraraka following him close silently, watching Izuku with hawk eyes that express perfectly just how worried she is – about Katsuki, of course, but about Izuku too.
Recognition flashes across the eyes of the woman who’s sitting behind the front desk as she stares up and finds Izuku there – he gets that a lot, being the hero who saved Japan and the entire world, after all. Izuku continues to ignore Kaminari’s incessant blabbering as he addresses her. “I need information on Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, please. I’m his emergency contact. Where can I go meet him?”
The woman frowns and purses her lips, typing something down on her computer. Izuku’s feet are tapping on the floor unrhythmically as he waits for her to fill whatever bureaucratic bullshit she has to fill before giving him his answer, and Kaminari finally goes as silent as Uraraka, waiting along with him for some welcome news.
What neither of them expects is: “I’m sorry, Deku-san, but only close family and emergency contacts can receive information about Dynamight-san at that time. And I’m afraid you’re no longer listed as his emergency contact.”
That makes Izuku frown, because he remembers it perfectly – he is Kacchan’s emergency contact, he has been so ever since they graduated from UA and reached their adulthood together. He has been so ever since Kacchan injured himself during patrol all those years ago and called Izuku, out of all his friends, to “help him to the damn hospital.” He is Kacchan’s emergency contact as much as Kacchan is his emergency contact. Not only that, they’re… they used to be, they were… they are best friends, right?
“I’m not sure I’m getting this right,” Izuku says, perhaps a bit too menacingly. He doesn’t know it, but he looks like an absolute threat right now, nothing like the kind, gentle hero he’s worked hard to become. “You need to tell me about Kacchan. I am his emergency contact.”
Uraraka finally takes a step closer and nudges at him, trying to gently urge him away from the front desk. “Deku-kun…”
Izuku shrugs away from the touch, perhaps a bit too abruptly, never taking his eyes off the woman at the front desk, ignoring his friend completely in a way that felt very uncharacteristic for him. “Check your records again! I’m telling you, I am his emergency contact!”
The woman looks frightened and embarrassed, eyes all wide, which makes realization fall upon Izuku and has him feeling just a little bit guilty. He does need to control his heart, that much is evident even to him in his frantic state now. But at that moment, all he can think about is Kacchan.
She starts typing on the computer again, hands a bit shakier than before, and Izuku watches as her eyes dart across the screen, reading its contents silently. She looks up at him with a wobbling lower lip and says: “I’m sorry, Deku-san, I truly am. But you’re no longer listed as his emergency contact. I can’t give you information on his case.”
And Izuku, who only ever loses his temper when it comes to Kacchan’s well-being, starts raising his guttural voice at the woman, in a very Kacchan-like way. “Are you not understanding what I’m saying? I need to get information on him! I need to know how he’s doin–”
Just then, Mitsuki and Masaru rush into the hospital and appear right beside Izuku. Izuku stares at them with wide eyes, mouth half-open in between words, but Kacchan’s parents barely even register he’s there.
“We’re Katsuki’s – Dynamight’s parents,” Masaru informs the woman at the front desk, panting as if they’d run all the way there, voice wobbly.
“Where’s my son?” Mitsuki demands with a half-shouting voice. “Take me to him! I need to see him!”
“Of – Of course,” the woman says, eyeing Izuku fearfully once again before standing up from her seat. She seems relieved for having gotten out of that situation. “Please, follow me.”
Izuku is hit by a flash of fear that he might never learn any news on Kacchan before it’s too late, and he reaches out for Mitsuki in the hopes of her getting him inside with her. “Auntie Mitsuki –”
But she’s already rushing down the hallway, worried about her son, and doesn’t listen to Izuku’s call of her name.
“Please, let’s go back to the waiting room, man,” Kaminari starts begging Izuku again, nervous. “Everyone’s in there already. You won’t get anything outta bullying the hospital staff for answers. We need to be patient right now, and give him time and space to recover.”
“He’s right, Deku-kun,” Uraraka agrees, nodding and touching Izuku’s elbow gently again, fingers as light as a feather. “Please, let’s just wait for news with everyone else. It’ll be all right.”
Izuku promptly ignores them and bites his lower lip. He once again shrugs away from Uraraka’s gentle touch and walks around the front desk, checking the screen the receptionists had been looking at. There, his stomach drops even further, because he reads:
PATIENT: KATSUKI BAKUGOU AKA “GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT”
AGE 28
EMERGENCY CONTACT (PREVIOUS): MITSUKI BAKUGOU (MOTHER)
EMERGENCY CONTACT (PREVIOUS): IZUKU MIDORIYA
EMERGENCY CONTACT (CURRENT): SHOUTO TODOROKI
EMERGENCY CONTACT (CURRENT) EIJIROU KIRISHIMA
Izuku takes a step back with even more tears rising to his eyes. He’s in shock, absolute shock.
He can tell, now, that he’s been a crappy friend for a while, that he hasn’t answered texts or called back or showed up for hangouts. But he hadn’t expected Kacchan to – to give up on their friendship, to put a definitive end to it.
Because that’s what removing Izuku from his emergency contacts means, right? He’s given up on Izuku? He no longer wants them to be friends, to be close? He no longer wants Izuku around?
Izuku becomes numb and his ears start ringing; he’s too shocked to move or to even say anything.
Kaminari gently grabs one of his arms, Uraraka the other, and silently they guide Izuku back to the waiting room, with absolutely no resistance this time.
There, Izuku sits down and pliantly grabs a cup of water which someone places into his shaking hand. He never drinks from it, though. Uraraka takes the seat by his side and gently grabs one of his hands, careful not to touch her five fingers on his skin all at once, lest she make him float. She caresses the back of Izuku’s hand with her thumb, a nostalgic and miserable look on her face. If Izuku were capable of being more attentive at that moment, he might have realized exactly who she might be thinking of right now.
“He’ll get out of this, Deku-kun,” she promises, voice low and caring. “I’m sure of it.”
Izuku doesn’t seem to listen to her, at least not entirely, continuing to stare straight ahead in shock and fear and so, so much misery. Still, Uraraka never ceases to try and comfort her worried friend.
“Bakugou-kun is strong, you know that better than anyone. He’s been through worse. I’m sure he’ll start yelling at us for worrying over nothing in a moment, just you wait…”
She continues to tell Izuku sweet nothings in a low, soothing tone to try and calm him down, and although Izuku never says anything in return, he doesn’t shrug away from her anymore, either. It’s like he needs and embraces the comfort that she offers him, although he can’t quite react to it at that time – and although he doesn’t feel like he deserves it.
And so, Izuku is forced to wait alongside everyone, with the exception of Kacchan’s parents, Todoroki, and Kirishima, who are already with Kacchan – who have earned the right of being with Kacchan. In the waiting room, Izuku waits for news on his – apparently terrible – state, no matter what Uraraka tells him, what she says in that soothing voice and what she vows that will – or won’t – happen.
All Izuku can do as he waits and listens to Uraraka’s voice is stare straight ahead, still wearing his teacher’s clothes, with wide, teary eyes that don’t really focus on anything, feeling a deep sense of sorrow and regret over what he could have done differently to prevent this from happening.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
“Weak and pathetic,” the villain boasts. “Just like I thought you’d be.”
“Shut the fuck up and eat my smoke, you shitty D-lister!” Katsuki yells at him as he charges forward at full strength.
“No wonder you died at the hands of Tomura Shigaraki! You can’t even face a so-called D-lister like me properly; what made you think you could defeat the Symbol of Fear?”
“Go to hell and DIE!!!” Katsuki screams as he lets out a mighty explosion.
“You’re never going to be a true hero, Dynamight,” the huge villain dodges the blow and continues to taunt. “You’ll always be inferior to the true hero of the War, to the true meaning of what it is to be heroic. You’ll always be a little meaningless shadow trailing after Deku.”
Katsuki groans and loses his temper at the dreaded mention of Izuku’s name – and the dreaded comparison to him, and the dreaded mention of his traumatic death –, and his blows are becoming more erratic and starting to truly miss their target by a lot.
The villain continues. “You should have stayed dead, you know. It would have spared you the humiliation of losing to a perceived ‘weakling’ like me,” he chuckles.
“Nghh, you fucking bastard!” Katsuki screams. “I’ll kill you!”
“Except I’m not truly weak,” the villain taunts and taunts. “You’re the one who’s a loser.”
Katsuki’s resolve had started to falter at the mention of Izuku’s name, but the constant provocation is evidently getting to his short-fused head. And so, because of his eagerness to finish the damn villain off already and prove himself as the strongest, he misses blow after blow, until the villain manages to hit him with a strike so disorienting that his already confused thoughts become all jumbled and mixed together until –
Crash.
Nothing. Kernel panic. Blue screen of death. A too familiar feeling, which scares him shitless, shitless, shitless.
Katsuki tries to tether himself to reality, to life, because he doesn’t want to die again, he doesn’t want to lose everything, not yet, not yet, not when there’s still so much for him to do and say and unravel. He struggles and struggles, desperately making grabby hands as well as he can at whatever he can find that resembles being alive, seeing flashes of orange and green that turn into just green, just green, just green –
He eventually manages to reopen his eyes with a dull gasp, not knowing how much time has passed, still expecting to still be mid-fight and in need to blow this villain’s ass up to smithereens. Except, when he jolts into wakefulness, he’s at some hospital or something.
His parents are at his side – and they’re looking worried out of their minds. The shitshow he got himself in must have been bad – worse than Katsuki imagined from his perspective, if the old hag is crying at his deathbed like this.
“Katsuki!” Mitsuki exclaims when she notices him jolting back into awaking and then wincing at the sudden soreness and discomfort that hits him at the sharp movement. “Are you back? Are you with us?”
“Ouch,” Katsuki groans in pain, throwing his head back and swallowing dry. “Why’d you bring me to a cheapskate hospital? Tell those bastards to up my meds.”
“Oh, he’s back!” Masaru celebrates with tears rolling down his cheeks and staining his glasses. “Thank the heavens! He’s complaining again!”
“We were so fucking worried!” Mitsuki half-cries, half-growls. “You little shit, you promised us never to put us through something like that again!” And now that’s a full growl – it’s evident she’s becoming angrier than worried the more Katsuki interacts with her and proves he’s doing better.
Katsuki rolls his eyes, closing them for a moment before reopening them to glare at his old woman. “It’s not like I fucking asked for it, hag.”
“What happened, son?” Masaru sits on the edge of his hospital bed. “We saw the fight on the TV, but no one could tell what the villain said to make you lose your bearings so… dangerously.”
Katsuki sighs, averting his eyes. He doesn’t really want to relieve those moments that, for him, happened just a minute ago, but it’s now becoming evident it’s been longer than that. Way longer, from the looks of it.
Surprisingly, he can remember everything with stark clarity up to the moment he lost consciousness So, he turns to his old man and says in the vaguest way he can muster: “He taunted me. Mocked me. Don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Katsuki –” Mitsuki tries.
Masaru raises a hand at her. “Let him be, Mitsuki. He only needs to share what he’s comfortable with sharing right now. I’m sure he must have had his reasons to react the way he did.”
Mitsuki fumes at her husband. “His reasons?! What greatest reason is there other than me being his mother and having been given several new strands of grey hair over the act this little shit pulled?”
Katsuki rolls his eyes, sighing. “How long has it been, anyway?”
Mitsuki purses her lips, crossing her arms above her chest. “He must have done some pretty spot-on taunting if he managed to get that deep inside your head, brat, that’s all you’re gonna hear me say about it. And it’s been two fucking days,” she supplies, worry mixing with anger as usual. “We were worried sick about you; so were your brat friends.”
“Yes, some of them are outside, waiting to see you. Some others had to leave for their patrols, but they promised to come back as soon as you woke up,” Masaru adds, nodding. “But Mitsuki and I have been staying with you this whole time. You needed surgery because of internal bleeding, but – nothing that the quirk-doctors couldn’t fix in a jiff,” he smiles wobbly, trying to sound reassuring – although he sounds completely disheveled. “They say you should be still sustaining a small concussion as of now; it couldn’t be healed completely because they needed to use your stamina to treat the worst of the other injuries, but all your ailments are already being mostly healed.”
“And the villain?” Katsuki raises an eyebrow at his father.
“That rich, multicolored friend of yours finished him off and arrested him,” Mitsuki says with an edge to her tone, almost as if she’s disappointed that Katsuki had needed help in order not to die.
Katsuki swallows dry, a bit humiliated at finding out that he had to be saved and rescued by number two hero Todoroki. His rivalry with Icy Hot never truly ended, not even after they became proper friends, and it stings that he lost the fight so pathetically that Todoroki took the damn credit for defeating “the villain Dynamight couldn’t”.
Trying to focus on what he can do for now, though, Katsuki scans his body for its different sources of pain, trying to realize if he’s actually as concussed as those doctors claim him to be. He comes out empty, unsure if there are still concussion symptoms remaining, but indeed feeling sore all over.
That D-lister villain really did a fucking number on him, and it’ll probably take his public image a while to recover from that – and from having been rescued like a damsel in distress.
Hah, he wonders if maybe that’s why Izuku doesn’t bother to talk to him anymore. Maybe the villain was right, and he’s nothing if just a shadow of Izuku – of One For All, like Shigaraki had also said in the past. Maybe Izuku couldn’t be bothered to deal with someone who lost to small fries, and who had to be rescued by stronger heroes. Maybe Izuku didn’t want to spend time and effort on someone so pathetic.
Seeing the somber look that takes over Katsuki’s face at these thoughts and sensing there is more to the villain’s attack than their son is sharing, Masaru and Mitsuki exchange a look.
“Hey,” it’s Mitsuki who says, a bit too gently – which sounds off-putting, coming from her. “We can step out and let your friends in, if you wanna. Your doctor is on her lunch break right now, so she can check on you later.”
“Yes,” Masaru nods emphatically, desperate to make his son feel better. Knowing Katsuki better than most, Masaru is aware that his son’s ego must be really damaged from what happened. “Your friends are dying to see you, and you could use some boosting up to your morale – Ouch!” He complains when his wife pokes his ribs, trying to subtly warn him to shut the hell up and not mention anything of the kind around Katsuki.
“We’ll let you talk to… Uh, them,” she announces more firmly, pulling Masaru to his feet and dragging him along with her toward the room’s door. “God knows I can’t stand being in this shitty room anymore…”
“Hey,” Katsuki calls after her in an impulse before she leaves the room, right after she pushes Masaru out.
“Yeah?” Mitsuki asks, turning her head to face her son.
He hesitates. “Thanks, old hag,” he says, feeling a bit too honest, but not honest enough to meet her eyes as he says the unusual words. “For keeping watch over me and for… you know. Giving me space right now.”
Mitsuki gives him a weirded-out look – which is kind of not the reaction Katsuki had been expecting. “Shit, you really are concussed.”
“Ah, go to hell,” Katsuki’s face scrunches up in annoyance and he mumbles, grumpy. But she does have a point, he truly must be concussed if he’s out saying thanks to his mom of all people. He hopes he doesn’t say anything that embarrassing to his remaining visitors.
He’s truthfully expecting it to be either Kirishima or Todoroki to barge into his room as soon as Mitsuki gives them permission – despite his hurt ego, he does owe Todoroki some thanks for saving his ass back there in the battlefield. And knowing Kirishima, he must be worried out of his damn mind too.
Katsuki is preparing himself to deal with the clinginess Kirishima always displays when he’s hurt, and to deal with the humiliation of thanking Todoroki, when a knock resounds on the door and someone’s head pops into the room.
Much to his surprise, it’s not Todoroki or Kirishima. Instead, the first person to come inside the room is…
Izuku.
And yeah, against all his questioning, Katsuki’s still pretty damn concussed. Because as soon as he spots the green-haired bastard standing there by the door, as still as a statue, staring at him with wide eyes, he ends up blurting out a confused: “What are you doing here?”
And so, Izuku pauses, face falling as if his entire world has just come to an end.
Then, his face scrunches up into an ugly grimace, and he immediately bursts into pained sobs, bending forwards and pulling at the front of his shirt as if his chest physically aches.
(It’s only then does Katsuki realize how terrible he looks. Bloodshot, swollen eyes, disheveled hair and clothes, and a pale face that highlights his scar. The sight makes his heart race for some reason he can’t quite put his finger on.)
“I’m – I’m sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku starts to cry amidst sobs, taking one single step closer to the bed but not another, almost as if he wants to be ready to leave as soon as possible in case Katsuki kicks him out of the room. “I’m sorry, Kacchan, I’m sorry, Kacchan, I’m so, so, so sorry –”
Katsuki frowns, confused and feeling too concussed to keep up with Izuku’s mental gymnastics. “Oi, what – What are you apologizing for?” Because there’s no way Izuku knows his name was the reason Katsuki lost to that shitty villain, so he must be blaming himself for something else, as he often does. Katsuki is at his wit’s end here.
“I’m sorry,” Izuku continues to sob and cry, fat tears rolling down his now flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry – I’m so sorry –”
Katsuki clicks his tongue and sighs, at the end of his patience. “Get your ass over here. Now.”
Izuku hesitates but obeys, approaching the bed but not meeting Katsuki’s eyes again. He continues to sob at his heart’s content, which makes Katsuki feel horrible and guilty for some reason. He wants to put an end to that, to see Izuku smiling again. It’s been so long since he’s last seen Izuku smile. It’s been so long since he’s seen Izuku in person.
As soon as Izuku’s close enough to the bed, Katsuki grabs his forearm and pulls him closer, until he’s half-leaning, half-seating on the edge of his mattress. Izuku gulps and sniffs and continues to cry, although the sobbing subsides a little bit – just enough. He then shifts and sits at the edge of the bed, still not meeting Katsuki’s eyes.
Katsuki clicks his tongue again. “Care to explain what the hell you’re so sorry about?”
Izuku sniffs and finally meets Katsuki’s eyes – his own are teary and even more bloodshot now. He heaves once, twice, sniffing and sobbing, until he has enough air in his lungs to answer. “I was an idiot. I was a total ass. I let myself stay away from you, and you almost –” He trails off, shaking his head and lowering it. “I should have fought harder.”
“You weren’t in that fight with me,” Katsuki frowns, not following the logic behind Izuku’s words. And then, a bit offended, “And I don’t need you to be my guard dog. I can take care of myself just fine during a damn battle –”
“No, it’s not about that,” Izuku laments, finally staring deep into crimson with tears flowing from his eyes. “It’s not about that. I’m talking about our friendship. I should have taken better care of it. I should have been there for you. It’s so dear to me, you have no idea. I shouldn’t have taken it for granted.”
“Taken it for granted?” Katsuki frowns, eyes darting across every inch of Izuku’s face as if he was trying to memorize the details while he still could.
Izuku offers him a sad smile that doesn’t reach his tearful, miserable eyes. “You changed your emergency contacts.”
Katsuki blinks in confusion before his face falls in understanding.
Oh. Right.
“I mean – I was really surprised when I found out, but then it all clicked into place,” Izuku continues, sounding so utterly miserable that Katsuki can’t help but to feel like a proper monster for having gotten his ass beaten into oblivion and made Izuku feel bad over it. “I understood why you did it, of course I understood. I took you for granted, I didn’t – fight for our friendship like I should. I’m just – I’m sorry I let things get bad enough that you felt like you couldn’t rely on me to be there for you when you needed me most.”
“Izuku –”
“I’ll always be there for you from now on, Kacchan, I promise it. Even if it’s just to play video games or watch All Might documentaries together. I love doing that, I love being with you, I love you, so I don’t really know why I let myself stop doing those things with you. I miss them all so much, Kacchan, I miss you so much; I would do anything to just go back in time and tell myself to fight harder for what we had, for what we – Kacchan?” Izuku interrupts himself and calls with worry, because Kacchan has a very, very horrified look in his face right now.
Katsuki is staring deeply at Izuku’s confused face, trying to compute what he has just heard right now. I love doing that, I love being with you, I love you.
I love being with you, I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
“Kacchan?!” Izuku’s growing frantic now, evidently unaware of the weight of his own words. “Should I call the nurse? What do you need me to do? How can I help? What are you feeling?”
“You – You put it into words,” Katsuki comments absentmindedly, blinking blankly and feeling dumbfounded, as if all the secrets of the universe had just been revealed to him.
“I – What?” Izuku frowns, confused and worried. He tries to stand up from the bed to press the emergency button, but Katsuki holds him by the forearm and pulls him back down into sitting. “Kacchan, I don’t understand –” Izuku tries, but Katsuki shakes his head.
“This thing you just said,” Katsuki gulps, staring at Izuku with big, wide, slightly uneven pupils. “You just said you love me.”
Izuku’s face falls and pales; he starts to stammer. “I – I don’t know – I didn’t – I don’t – I mean – Of course I love you, how could I not? I really don’t understand what you –”
“How could you not?” Katsuki questions. “How could you love me, that’s the right question!”
Izuku chuckles. “W-What? Kacchan, of course I love you! I thought that much was evident!”
“Evident? What in the goddamn hell are you talking about?” Katsuki scoffs with a frown.
“I should be the one to ask you that!” Izuku protests. “What do you mean, I ‘put it into words’?”
Katsuki swallows dry, averting his eyes from Izuku and staring out the window by the hospital bed. Silence stretches for a while before he speaks up again. “I mean exactly what I said. You put into words how I feel for you. I’ve known how I felt for a long-ass time, but I never knew… what to call it.” He gazes upon Izuku’s face again, emotional. “Love.”
Izuku stares at him. Silent.
“To me, it was just the Izuku-feeling,” Katsuki continues to explain. “A feeling that only you managed to wring out of me. A warm, cozy feeling deep in my chest that would always come up whenever we went to the movies together, or watched All Might docs together, or had sleepovers together. Whenever you laughed at something I said, whenever I smelled your cologne, whenever I felt your warmth seep into my body. It’s only ever been you.”
Izuku is a little confused right now. He had never really stopped to think about what he felt for Kacchan – he knew it was love, it had always been love. But.. From the way Kacchan is talking…
Was Izuku’s love for Kacchan romantic? Platonic? Neither? Both? What is going on in his heart right now? What has been going on in his heart for a while?
Izuku’s mind is becoming a whirlpool of thousands of thoughts and emotions at the same time, flowing together, dancing, and intertwining. Because, just as much as he always took Kacchan for granted, it seems that he has also taken his love for Kacchan for granted – an emotion as old as his own consciousness, that came to be as soon as he met Kacchan and realized how awesome and endearing he was.
Izuku’s love for Kacchan is as old as Izuku’s very self-aware being, as old as everything he knows and feels. It’s primordial – it’s always been there. He can’t begin to try and dissect it, to understand what he feels, when it’s been so deeply rooted in his own core.
He just loves Kacchan. It’s as simple as that.
Unaware of Izuku’s inner struggle, the concussed Katsuki, who is still too honest and too earnest for his own good right now, continues: “I – I liked when we were closer to each other. Y’know. I wouldn’t admit it if I were in my right mind right now, but I’ve – I’ve missed our hangouts.”
Izuku feels faint; he swallows. It dawns upon him that he has plenty of apologies to make, and his guilt feels never-ending, especially realizing that he’s made Kacchan feel bad. He feels like the scum of the earth. “Kacchan –”
“I wanted us to be close again. Especially now that – That you’ve helped me realize what I…”
Izuku feels tears rolling down his face in a stream, and he notices that there are some fresh ones in the corner of Kacchan’s eyes as well. Panicking, he reaches out for Kacchan’s face and clears the tears from there away with his thumb, gentle. “Kacchan, please don’t cry –”
“How can I not? I almost freaking died again, all because that damn villain kept talking about you,” Katsuki breathes out, not meeting Izuku’s eyes.
“Me? What did he say about me?” Izuku frowns, concerned, heart racing even more.
“It doesn’t matter,” Katsuki shakes his head, trying to swat the humiliating memories away. “Nothing else matters right now. I’m just – I’ve missed you,” he stares deeply into Izuku’s eyes as he says the words. “I always wanted us to be together forever.”
Izuku blinks in shock. Kacchan is sounding way too earnest for his liking, which could be an indicator that his doctor needs to check on him and his concussion as soon as possible. Still, instead of reaching for the emergency button, Izuku finds himself blurting out in a very plain, surprised voice: “Be with me forever?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki replies dreamingly, right off the bat, as if he had never spoken truer words before. He leans his head back against his pillows and closes his eyes for a moment. “I’ve always wanted to be with you. Us, together forever, chasing after each other for the rest of our lives.”
Izuku blushes scarlet, eyes so wide they look like they’re about to pop off their sockets. Realizing this, Katsuki blushes too, averting his uneven eyes from Izuku again and staring at his own feet instead. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna,” he says, uncharacteristically lenient. “I mean, you said you love me, so I figured – I mean, I thought –” He tries, seeming nervous – Kacchan, of all people, being nervous about something?! –, and then he suddenly deflates. “Fuck, I really am concussed as shit right now,” he sighs.
Izuku’s head is working at a thousand miles per hour, but he still forces himself to smile gently at Kacchan, trying to ease his own racing heart and make it slow down a bit. He doesn’t want to rush into this – things between him and Kacchan had never been rushed. On the contrary; if anything, they had always taken things slow, way too slow, given the fact that it took them around 24 years to figure out their crap and confess their true feelings to each other.
So, Izuku gently grabs one of Kacchan’s hands – the one that doesn’t have the IV access attached to it –, smiles, and drops a kiss on the back of it. Kacchan’s eyes flutter closed.
Then, Izuku bends down and drops another kiss, now on his cheek, then on his forehead, then on the tip of his nose, then finally on the corner of his mouth. It’s Katsuki who finally breaks the remaining distance and nudges at Izuku’s face with his nose, kissing Izuku fully on the lips, using his IV-drip hand to pull him closer to him by his UA teacher tie.
The kiss is soft and full of yearning, their tongues meeting and dancing around each other, leaving them red in the face and panting as if they had just run a marathon. They part after a while, blushing and happy, so, so happy, that Katsuki almost forgets he’s in a hospital right now. He’s in cloud nine, if anything.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Katsuki whispers, a bit too serious, forehead glued to Izuku’s, who’s still dropping tiny pecks and kisses all across Katsuki’s face and bandaged head as if there’s nothing more precious in the world for him than his Kacchan.
“I should be the one telling you that,” Izuku argues, breathing heavily as he continues with the kissing.
“I mean the not talking to me, and the disappearing off the face of the earth thing,” Katsuki scolds, a bit sterner. “I mean it, Izuku. It broke my heart. It made me feel –”
“Kacchan –” Izuku tries.
“No, let me speak. I’m not going to keep internalizing this whole shit like you always do when it comes to your emotions,” Katsuki argues.
Izuku flinches, but there’s an embarrassed smile on his lips. “Ouch.”
“Can’t handle some honesty?” Katsuki raises an eyebrow at him. “I mean it, Izuku. The distance between us made me feel like shit. Absolute, utter crap. I swore that I had done something wrong –”
“You didn’t,” Izuku offers.
“I swore that you’d grown tired of me –”
“Never,” Izuku shakes his head, horrified.
“I swore that I was just your shadow,” Katsuki concludes. “I didn’t even recognize myself, thinking those things. But I did. I thought them. That’s probably why the villain got to me so quickly, he knew exactly how to push my damn buttons.”
Izuku’s lips form a thin line. “I’m never letting anything like this happen again.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “No matter what Icy Hot thinks, I don’t need to be rescued or saved like some helpless maiden in distress, I can take care of myself –”
“I know that,” Izuku interrupts. “Hey, I know that. Okay? You’re one of the strongest people I know, I know you can handle yourself.”
“What happened yesterday –”
“I know,” Izuku nods profusely. “Of course I do. You’re the best of the best. No one will ever question that if it’s up to me. What I meant was – the distance. The not talking to each other. The radio silence. I’m not letting that happen ever again. I agree with you – I want us to be together. Forever, if it’s up to me.”
Katsuki’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he dry swallows. He looks hesitant – uncharacteristically so. “You sure about that?”
Izuku frowns. “Of course I’m sure. Where’s that uncertainty coming from? That’s not the Kacchan I know,” he mock-reprimands with a chuckle, but the words hit close to home for Katsuki.
“I know,” Katsuki admits. “I… haven’t been feeling like myself these days. Losing that fight, and losing you –”
“You didn’t lose me.”
Katsuki meets his eyes. “I did, though. For a little while, I did.”
Izuku feels his heart breaking. “I’m sorry. I – I got carried away with my UA job. With my pro-hero job. With everything. I prioritized some things and neglected others, others that I shouldn’t have pushed away from my heart. Like you,” he admits, tears rolling down again.
Katsuki raises one hand and cups Izuku’s wet face into it, brushing some of the stray ones away with his thumb.
“I’m sorry, Kacchan. For the record, I missed you too. I missed you like hell. I just – I got stuck in a whirlpool of duties that I couldn’t swim out of.”
Katsuki clicks his tongue. “Idiot,” he says with affection. “You never knew how to ask for help, even if you love saving those in need.”
Izuku nods, gulps. “Y-Yeah. I think – I think I need help. I never want anything like this to ever happen again. I want you to rely on me, to be able to rely on me, to trust me. I want to know you’re safe. I don’t want to hinder you because I was distant and put all sorts of wrong thoughts into your head. I want – I want to be your emergency contact again. In life, in everything. I want to earn that place in your life again.”
Katsuki sighs and nods back at him. “Consider it done.”
“W-What?” Izuku frowns.
“I’ll put you back as my emergency contact. The only reason I removed you –”
“Kacchan – You don’t have to justify yourself –”
“The only reason I removed you,” Katsuki continues. “Was because I didn’t want to hinder you.”
Izuku looks extremely miserable. “You’d never hinder me. You could never.”
“I have, though,” Katsuki laments. “Across our lives, I did a lot of shit –”
“It’s all in the past,” Izuku vows, offering Katsuki a small, warm smile. “I would never hold any of what happened against you.”
Katsuki tsks. “I know ya wouldn’t. You’re too fucking nice for your own good.”
“I’m not too nice,” Izuku protests with a frown. “I’m nice in the right measure. I know you’re sorry for everything that happened; you’ve told me as much. And I’ve forgiven you. It’s all in the past.”
Katsuki averts his eyes. “I thought that maybe… Maybe that was why…”
“Why what?” Izuku encourages with a gentle nudge to Katsuki’s arm when the man doesn’t continue.
“You kept your distance,” Katsuki meets his eyes again, earnest. “I thought maybe that was why you didn’t want to hang out anymore. Maybe you’d rolled back on your decision to forgive me, I don’t know. Maybe you’d figured out how… toxic I truly am,” he lowers his gaze.
“You’re not toxic,” Izuku frowns, lifting Katsuki’s hand to his lips and dropping another kiss there. “You’re not. I promise. Please, don’t ever think or say that about yourself again.”
“But the shit I did –”
“Was a different you,” Izuku insists. “The reason we drifted apart for a while now wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who put too many walls around me, my heart. I’m the one who pushed you away. You’re not to blame.”
“I am, though,” Katsuki counters. “If I had tried harder – pushed harder – but I didn’t want to break into your space –”
“Kacchan,” Izuku sighs longingly, tears still rolling down. “I promise you, okay? Nothing like that is ever going to happen again. I’ll make sure of that. From now on, my top priority is you and making you happy.”
Katsuki frowns. “But your job –”
“Will stay there,” Izuku nods. “I’ll continue to work as a teacher at UA and as a pro-hero in my free time. But I’ll do all that knowing that, at the end of the day, I’ll come home to a loving boyfriend who will help me jumble my responsibilities without judging me for being too busy sometimes.”
Katsuki nods and smiles softly – a sight only ever reserved for Izuku. “I’ll help you kick ass at your two jobs. Not that you need to work two jobs, I could provide for both of us…”
“Kacchan…” Izuku reprimands, a bit too serious. “The suit was already enough of an investment on me, don’t you think?”
Katsuki smirks. “You can’t blame me for wanting to pamper my boyfriend.”
“Pamper?!” Izuku exclaims.
“Hell yeah,” Katsuki tilts his chin up victoriously, defiant. “I want you to have the best, to be with the best. I’ve pampered you with your suit and I’ll pamper you with whatever else I can.”
“Kacchan…” Izuku blushes profusely, hugging himself and covering his face away.
“Don’t hide from me,” Katsuki frowns, pulling at one of Izuku’s arms. “Let me see that pretty smile, c’mon.”
“Kacchan…!” Izuku blushes even more.
“Love your smile,” Katsuki says, snuggling closer to his newly found boyfriend. “Love you, Izuku.”
“I love you too, Kacchan,” Izuku says, leaning down and pressing several kisses all over Katsuki’s cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips. Katsuki smirks and pulls Izuku closer into another passionate kiss.
That’s how Todoroki and Kirishima find them when they open a sliver of the door to see how Katsuki is doing. Realizing the intimacy of the situation and finding relief on the sounds of laughter that fill the room, they close the door once again and leave unnoticed, giving Izuku and Katsuki some privacy. They go back to the waiting room so that they can tell the rest of their worried friends that Katsuki is doing better – in fact, better than ever.