Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Izuku plopped on his bed, this time without Katsuki by his side. The blonde was currently downstairs, trying to help Toshinori convince Izuku’s mom and Katsuki’s dad that they were safe. (Apparently this wasn’t the first time the two boys had snuck out late and nearly gave their single working parents a heart attack.) 

It was strange, being in this reality. Of course things were different, Izuku wouldn’t expect a whole different dimension to be the same. What really shocked him was how smoothly everything flowed. This reality’s Izuku was Kat’s best friend. His mom hadn’t put on all the stress-weight. Kat’s dad, after his wife passed, was more assertive and clear-spoken. Toshinori wasn’t a self-absorbed creature molded by public image, and Izuku was being properly treated for his depression and anxiety. 

Things didn’t have to be the way they were in Izuku’s own dimension. Kacchan didn’t have to bully him. And sure, there were environmental factors like All Might’s negative influence on the public and Mitsuki’s ineffective parenting style, but at the end of the day, Izuku now understood that things could be different. Things could work if Kacchan behaved differently. After all, they were old enough to understand right from wrong and learn to break bad habits. Wasn’t it about time Izuku and Kacchan got along?

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, scowling at the ceiling, his arms and legs stretched unceremoniously over his unmade bed. He liked Kacchan. Loved him, even. But he decided, in that moment, that he wouldn’t put up with that boy’s shit any longer. If Kacchan loved Izuku like this Katsuki had told him, then he was going to have to put in the work and stop being such a… what’s the word?... such a- a… 

“Stupid ass fucking shit-fuck!” Katsuki exclaimed, throwing Izuku’s bedroom door open as he stormed inside. Izuku bolted upright, alert, as Katsuki paced around his room, palms sparking and steaming. “I can’t believe that asshole!” 

“What is it?” Izuku squeaked. 

Katsuki plopped down at the spinny chair by Izuku’s desk. “My dad! He grounded me!”

Izuku rolled his eyes, a small chuckle falling from his lips as he fell back into his bed. “Well, yeah, we did come home at three in the morning last night. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“But dude, I won’t be able to help you get back home,” Katsuki groaned. Izuku knew what he really meant to say: I won’t be able to get my Izuku back. I want to be the first person he sees when he comes home. 

It was bittersweet, Izuku thought. He adored this Katsuki and how he had the same explosive personality– yet less explosive behavior. His anger issues were less of actual issues and more of a dancing candle flame that would never burn out. In an odd way, it warmed Izuku. He liked it.

Now if he could only teach his Kacchan how to control his anger like that. But that was a can of worms he wouldn’t open just this second. 

“You could always just sneak out,” Izuku offered. 

Katsuki snickered, resting his head on Izuku’s desk. “Jeez, man. We stayed out late once and now you think you’re a bad boy?”

Izuku blushed with embarrassment, rolling around as his face heated up, burying under his blanket for protection. “N-no! That’s not it! I- I don’t think I’m a- a- y’know?! I just thought- maybe- i-if- well–”

“It’s fine, bro,” Katsuki laughed. “I’m just teasing you. Sneaking out could work. My dad is a bit of an airhead. But I don’t want to stress him out too much, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Izuku agreed, his voice muffled by his comforter. “I understand. Um, speaking of stress, I actually have something to talk to you about.” 

Katsuki quirked his eyebrows up, curious. “Yeah?”

“I had a really weird dream last night.”

“Dude, I really don’t want to hear anything else about Mirkou–”

“It’s not! Ugh, you’re so gross!” Izuku laughed. 

“I’m gross? Says the one with a porno mag of a bunch of heroes–”

“Oh my god! Would you stop that?!” 

Katsuki chuckled, shrugging with a devious glint in his red eyes. “I’m just saying. But anyway, continue.”

Izuku huffed, crawling to sit on the edge of his bed so Katsuki could see his disappointed pout. “Anyway,” he went on. “I had a dream about the predecessors of, y’know, my quirk. They were trying to tell me something, but it was so blurry. Probably because I only got two and a half hours of sleep.”

Katsuki nodded. “Do you think they know what happened to the villain who hit you with the dimension quirk?”

Izuku shifted in his spot. “About that… I don’t think there was a villain. I don’t think I dimension-jumped because of a quirk. Or, at least, because of someone else’s quirk.”

“Wait, do you mean–”

“I think it was my quirk that sent me here. But I know I didn’t do it, so I think it was the predecessors. And I think they were trying to tell me a way to get back home.”

“Oh, man,” Katsuki said. “This is great! Now all we gotta do is call Eraserhead and have him cancel your quirk!”

“Yeah, in theory,” Izuku said sheepishly, “but it’s just a theory. I think I should try to get more information first.”

“But how? It’s not like you can just walk up to these guys and ask them. They’re infused into your quirk, right?” 

“Well, they were able to talk to me through my dreams. Maybe if I go back to sleep, I’ll see them again.”

“Oh,” Katsuki said. “Sounds simple enough.”

Silence fell over them. Izuku sat, unmoving. Embarrassed, for some reason.

Katsuki looked at him. “Well? Are you gonna go to sleep?”

“I don’t know,” Izuku muttered. “Are you gonna turn off the light?”

Katsuki sucked his teeth, begrudgingly getting up to flick off the light. Sunlight still streamed in from the cracks in the curtains, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. Izuku got comfortable under his covers, but his eyes stayed peeled open. 

Katsuki looked at him, this time scowling. “Dude, it’s not that hard. Just fall asleep.”

Izuku shuffled, groaning. “It is that hard. I can’t fall asleep on demand.”

Katsuki snorted. “Sounds like a skill issue. Want me to knock you out?”

“No,” Izuku scoffed. “Not only would that hurt, but I don’t think that’s the same as falling asleep.”

“Fine, I guess that makes sense. Want me to get you some sleeping pills?”

“I’d rather not ingest any more unfamiliar drugs while I’m in this dimension. The Sertraline every morning is enough.”

“Alright. How about a bedtime story?”

“No.”

“Lullaby? I’ve got a killer singing voice.”

“I’m trying to sleep, Kat.” 

“Ah, I got it. How about some warm milk?” 

Izuku opened his mouth to make another dismissive comment, but he quickly snapped it closed. Katsuki fought back the urge to laugh at him as the freckled boy snuggled under his covers to hide his blush. “...Is there chocolate milk?”

“Maybe. Do you want some?”

Izuku nodded. The blankets shifted with him. 

“Pfft, okay, loser. One warm chocolate milk coming right up.”

Katsuki headed back downstairs into the battlefield, where Toshinori was getting a stern lecture from Izuku’s mom and Katsuki’s dad. The twiggy blonde man, who stood almost a head taller than Masaru and two heads taller than Inko, looked like he was about to cry. He kept apologizing and fidgeting with his hands, his eyes darting around nervously. 

“Dad, lay off a little,” Katsuki said flippantly as he weaved through their conversation while he made his way into the kitchen. “You too, Inko-san. It’s not Toshinori-san’s fault. It’s mine, and you already grounded me. So don’t waste any more time on it, okay?”

Masaru frowned, joining his son in the kitchen. “Katsuki, I appreciate you admitting your wrongdoings,” his dad said, “but at the end of the day, you’re still a child. Toshinori is an adult, and he should be held accountable for not telling us where our kids went. What if you had gotten hurt?”

“I’m not a toddler anymore. I can take care of myself. And Izuku can, too.” 

“I’m not saying I’m doubting your capabilities, but we have to be realistic.”

“I am being realistic. Realistically, if worst comes to worst, Izuku knows a million and one ways to kill someone. And my quirk is pretty damn strong.”

“Katsuki–”

“Dad, I’m serious. Just lay off the old man. Why don’t the three of you go out to lunch or something?”

“And leave you and Izuku all alone?” Inko butted in. “Absolutely not. I love you both, but you are trouble makers through and through.”

“And you’re grounded,” Masaru added. “Once we’re finished talking to Toshinori, you and I are going home. Understood?”

Katsuki sighed, but he didn’t push it. He knew how much effort his dad put into being assertive, and it’d make him a total dirtbag to lash out. Still, he wanted to stay with Izuku. They were so close to figuring everything out– Kat was so close to having his Izuku home. 

It was driving him crazy. 

Katsuki took the warm mug of chocolate milk (which was pretty much just hot chocolate at this point) and returned to Izuku’s room. His green curls were sprawled out over his pillow, and his arms and legs were lazily spread out around him. His lips were parted ever so slightly, and his chest rose and fell in tandem to the humming fan in the corner of the room. Katsuki rolled his eyes and placed the chocolate milk on the nightstand. He grabbed his backpack and headed back downstairs where his dad was waiting.           

-

Izuku sat up like a zombie rising from the dead. His arms and legs felt like lead underwater, and he could barely trudge through the mountains of blankets and stuffed animals pinning him to the bed. He was exhausted, more than he’d ever been before. Probably because he hadn’t taken his medicine in a while. But also, the lingering energy he had felt in the dream was tingling on his skin, sucking the life out of him. 

He remembered the dream in snippets, flashes of information that didn’t belong to him. He was borrowing memories that belonged to another version of himself, memories that he really did not want to have.

Izuku slunk out of his bed and dragged himself to the bathroom, trying and failing to scrub the after-effects of a sleepless night off his face. The mirror was foggy, probably from Inko’s morning routine, but Izuku could still see himself. Not that he really wanted to. The bags under his eyes were a dark reddish purple, and his face looked too pale to be his own. He looked skinnier than he did when he first arrived in this reality two weeks ago. Scrawnier. Like months– years– of hard work and training had gone to waste.

Izuku flicked the bathroom light off as he exited. He stared at the stairs that led down into the living room, scowling with the power of a thousand suns. Goddamn stairs. He’d probably collapse from exhaustion if he tried to go down them right now, but he couldn’t go back to his room and sleep after learning the cause of the reality switch. 

So he compromised. He sat at the top of the stairs, resting his arms on his knees and his face on his arms. His mind was fuzzy and his throat was dry and his stomach was empty. He knew he should go downstairs. A bowl of Frosted Flakes would be fantastic. But Izuku wasn’t gonna risk falling down the fucking stairs. And anyways, he was busy eavesdropping on the heated conversation happening in the kitchen.

“I don’t care what kind of important hero business you had going on!” Inko cried. “They are children. Izuku is my child. What if something had gone wrong? What if my boy didn’t come home? Can you even comprehend the damage that would do to me as his mother?”

“Ms. Midoriya, I can assure you, I’m more than qualified to take care of two measly children–”

“All Might, I’m only going to say this once,” Inko hissed, jabbing his chest with her index finger. Her scowl was powerful, forcing a tidal wave of guilt to rush over the hero’s mind. “I respect you as a hero. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for our society. But you cannot act like you have everything under control! You are not God. There was a chance, last night, that my boy wouldn’t make it home because of your ignorance and impulsiveness. No matter how slim that chance may be, as long as he lives under my roof, I will never risk it. Ever. Do I make myself clear?”

All Might swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes ma’am.”

“I don’t want him training with you anymore,” Inko added. “Not until you’ve pulled yourself together.”

“But Ms. Midoriya–”

“No, I’ve made my decision. I don’t want to hear it. You’re lucky I stopped Mitsuki from tearing you to shreds.”

“You stupid himbo! I’d fucking rip your tonsils out if it weren’t for my damn husband!” 

“Mitsuki, honey, please calm down,” Masaru said, his voice shaky and quiet. “He’s the number one hero. You can’t pick a fight with the number one hero.”

“He’s right,” All Might said. “I’ve done so much good for the people. How could you possibly harbor so much hate for me? I want nothing more than to train young Midoriya to be as great as me and live up to my name. No offense, Ms. Midoriya, but you can’t baby him forever.”

“Just because I’m not risking his life doesn’t mean I’m babying him,” Inko scoffed. “I’ve lost enough in my lifetime. So hear my heart, Toshinori. I love my son, and I physically, mentally, and emotionally can’t afford to put his life in jeopardy. If and when he gets into Yuuei, my decision may change, but for now, don’t come around him any longer. I don’t want to see your face around this area anymore.”

All Might sputtered out a nervous, borderline embarrassed laugh. “What– you can’t just ban me from this part of town. I’m All Might! I’m the greatest hero of all time! It’s my duty to be everywhere at once–”

Inko pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out an exhausted sigh. “Get the fuck out of my house and don’t come back until you’ve grown the hell up.”

Katsuki, who was sitting at the kitchen table chomping on some All Might themed cereal, snapping his neck in the adult’s direction. In all his fifteen years of life, this was the first time he’d ever heard his mom’s best friend utter a curse word. And to All Might of all people. Katsuki and his parents were absolutely flabbergasted. 

All Might gave a small nod and quickly left the premises.

Izuku fought back his laughter and climbed down the stairs. Inko caught him in a hug when he was on the second to last step, bawling into his collarbone. She was an ugly crier, but Izuku didn’t care. He held his mom in a tight hug, assuring her that he was here, he was okay, and he was safe. There was nothing to cry about, not on her end. 

Izuku? Well, he was a different story. He gently pulled away from the hug, giving his mom a weak smile, then headed to the kitchen to get some cereal. He had to fight the urge to burn the whole place down. Not only was there no frosted flakes, but the entire house– the entire fucking house– only had one type of cereal: All Might Munch: Detroit Smash with Masechusettes Marshmallows.

“Holy hell,” Izuku groaned, moping over to the kitchen table. “I’m going to swan dive off the roof of the building if I have to stay here any longer.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. He had gotten used to Izuku’s unsettling language by now, even though it never failed to make him a little sick to his stomach. He had a lot of things to process in his mind, but first he needed to focus on the issue at hand: getting his Izuku back home. 

“You’re being dramatic,” Katsuki grumbled as Izuku plopped down beside him at the table. “It’s not even bad cereal.”

“Okay? It’s ugly,” Izuku complained, tipping the near-empty box so the remaining cereal tumbled into his bowl. “They’re shaped like fucking Ass Might. Why would anyone want to eat these? EW, OH MY GOD, IS THAT HAIR?!” 

“Will you stop screaming so fucking early in the goddamn morning?” Katsuki snapped. “Unlike you, I didn’t get a good night’s sleep.”

“Cry about it, blasty.”

“I really need to get rid of you.”

“What you need to get rid of is that zit on your colossal-sized forehead. That poor zit is drowning in your greasy skin. Set him free.”

“You’re a piece of shit.” 

“Do you hear that?” Izuku whispered. “If you stop running your big ass mouth, you can hear the zit screaming for help… help, help! Someone get this grimy motherfucker to wash his face!” Izuku mocked in a fake high-pitched voice.

Katsuki punched him, and Izuku dodged. The two were wrestling again in a matter of milliseconds, writhing on the ground like lion cubs. Katsuki yanked Izuku’s mop of green curls, and Izuku chomped down on Katsuki’s ear. They were kicking and screaming and scrambling around, but eventually, Izuku had his legs wrapped around Katsuki’s torso and his arm around the boy’s neck, securing him in a headlock. 

Panting, Katsuki frantically tapped Izuku’s arm, admitting defeat. Izuku pushed him off and hopped to his feet with a victorious smile. “You’re going to be so fucked when Deku gets back. You think I’m tough to beat? That motherfucker has six quirks, dude. Six. He is going to kick your fucking ass.”                    

Katsuki fought to swallow the lump in his throat. “Six? Since when does he have six–”

“Oh, yeah, I totally forgot,” Izuku chuckled. He held out his hand for Katsuki to take, pulling the blonde to his feet. They sat back down at the table, continuing to eat their breakfast. “So, I’ve got good news and bad news. Whaddya wanna hear first?”

Katsuki scoffed. “Bad news.”

“Lovely. So, the bad news is that there’s absolutely nothing we can do besides hope. And I guess we could pray, but that hasn’t done jack shit for me so I think we should stick to blind optimism.” 

Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Izuku smirked, taking a bite of his cereal. He finished chewing quickly, trying to ignore the weird shape of the food in his mouth. “I’m talking about the good news.”

“Which is?”

“I had this super weird dream about what happened in this reality right before the switch. So now I know how to undo it and get back home.”

“...But there’s absolutely nothing we can do besides hope and pray.”

“Eh. You can pray. I’m just gonna hope.”

Katsuki groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with annoyance. “Elaborate, nerd.”

Izuku gasped dramatically. “Well, well, well. Look at how the tables have turned!  The Bakugou Katsuki is asking me, Midoriya Izuku, to talk more. Who would’ve thought?”

“I’m going to bite off your tongue if you don’t stay on topic.”

“Do you think about these sorts of things before you say them? Or are you just accidentally violently kinky?”

“Izuku. Shut the fuck up and talk.”

“Those are kind of one-or-the-other orders. You’re gonna have to pick one.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I hate my life.”   

“Aw, you’re talking to God? What a cute little Christian boy. We should dress you up in a little plaid skirt and a white blouse. Would you like that, Kacchan?”   

“How do we get my Izuku back?” Katsuki snapped. “I’m seriously sick of your shit.”

Izuku laughed, pushing his cereal away. “Alright, alright. Well, according to the dream, some group of villains attacked Yuuei while we were in class. Nobody saw it coming. Deku hit his head and was unable to fight back, and pretty much all of the other students were injured from the blast as well. Some dude was using a syringe to, like, suck out One For All from Deku’s bloodstream. I think it was pretty inefficient, but whatever works for him, I guess.”

“Focus, you idiot.”

“Right, yeah, anyways. The little people of the quirk– I don’t really know how to explain them. I think they’re the previous users. Maybe like fragments of souls? Who fucking cares. They felt the quirk being stolen and yeeted themselves into another reality on accident to protect themselves. And obviously Deku went with them. And I guess the universe didn’t want more than one Midoriya Izuku in a certain reality at any given time, so I was thrown into this reality.”

“Okay, but what about the ‘going back in time’ part? You said you were thrown months backwards. Was that One For All, too?”

Izuku shrugged. “Probably? I don’t know. Maybe it’s so that we have time to prepare for the attack.”

“Holy shit, so we’re gonna have to wait months?” 

“Not exactly,” Izuku said. “If Deku is anything like me, then he’s probably searching for a way to get home right now. Once he remembers the incident or at least gets a few clues, he’ll probably go find Eraserhead and have him cancel One For All long enough to send him home.”

“So we have to wait on Deku.”

“Ah, remember what I said? I can call him Deku. You can’t.”

“Fuck you.” 

“Jeez, you are all over the place today. Did you forget to take your meds or something?”

“I don’t take meds,” Katsuki grumbled. He paused, eyes narrowed. “Did you?”

Izuku shifted, his ever-lasting confidence withering just a bit. “I don’t have them here, remember?”

“But you can’t just stop taking them. That could really fuck with you.”

“If my ears are working correctly, I’d say you care about me and my mental health.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, you shithead. What you do could affect my Izuku. Can’t have that.”

“Do you actually think he’s going to accept your apology after everything you’ve done?”

Katsuki froze. 

“I mean, not to be a jerk,” Izuku went on, “but you really traumatized him. He loves you, I know he does, but I also know that he cares about being number one. He cares about surviving, at least now he does. Do you actually think he’s going to let you into his life when you could easily just ruin it all? What have you done to prove you’re worthy of his time?”

“I love him,” Katsuki whispers. “He… I know I fucked up–”

“Fucked up is an understatement.”

“–But I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him around. I don’t even care if it means I don’t get to fucking cuddle with him like you do with your Katsuki. After reading his stupid notebooks… seeing how he thinks of himself and what he was planning to do… as long as he’s alive, that’ll be enough.”

“...Wow,” Izuku said. “I’ve really turned you around, huh?”

“Fuck off! I’ve always been this nice!” 

“Bullshit.”

“Stop changing the subject! We’re talking about your fucking medication!” 

Izuku pushed his chair back, standing up from the table. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll continue taking them when I get home. In the meantime, I want to hang out with your mom.”

“What the fuck? Why?! She’s a total bitch!”

“Because she’s dead in my reality, you scumbag,” Izuku hissed. “I want to get to know her. I know my Kat is curious about what she was like, since he was so young and doesn’t really remember. You should come with me. Maybe I can single-handedly patch up another one of your failing relationships.”

“Fuck you.”

“You really need to be more creative, dude.” 

-

The dream was strange. Abstract, Izuku thought. His feet never touched the ground, like he was floating, and yet his body felt the soft compression of gravity, like he was asleep in his bed. He was, wasn’t he? This was a dream, wasn’t it?

Nana Shimura appeared, a soft smile on her golden face. “You look tired,” she said. “In a good way, I think. Tired from growth.”

He knew better than to try to speak while in this realm of sorts. Izuku wasn’t himself , not entirely. He was experiencing this interaction through the fraction of his soul that he exchanged for the powers of One For All. His soul piece was learning to live in this quantum world within this quirk, piecing together a manual on how to maneuver and flow and speak. The mist claimed part of his body, but not all of it. One For All recognized him, ever so slightly, as the next holder. The next potential symbol of peace.

“The message we sent was a little jagged,” Yoichi Shigaraki said, stepping forward. He, too, seemed to be balancing between laying and floating. It gave Izuku a headache to think about. “Probably because you didn’t sleep very well.”

Izuku thought up an apology, unable to voice the words out loud. Daigoro seemed to understand, manifesting himself behind Izuku to slap a big palm on his back. Like a funny drunk uncle at a cookout. “We already talked to the alternate version of you. Let me tell you, he was a little fucking brat. God forbid I ever have to see his dumb face again.” 

Izuku frowned. 

“Sorry,” Daigoro laughed. “I’m not a fan of freckles. All the little dots freak me out.”

“Anyways,” Nana continued, “we weren’t able to talk to him like we’re talking to you, since One For All didn’t fully recognize him as a holder. With you, we’ll be able to explain a little more clearly.”

Izuku nodded, listening intently. The vestiges told him everything they knew, from the surprise attack, to Izuku’s head wound, to the sudden split-second reality jump. It was nice to have some answers, Izuku thought, but these answers just pushed him to ask more questions. How did the quirk know it was in danger? Does it have a consciousness? Is it sharing or stealing part of the holders’ consciousness? Why go back in time? Why now, why here, why–

“Don’t stress too much,” Yoichi advised. “We don’t need to have everything figured out just yet. What you need to focus on is getting back to Yuuei to have Eraserhead cancel the quirk. Then we should be brought back to our current time and rightful location.”

Izuku nodded. He didn’t like having his questions go unanswered, even if it was only temporarily, but he couldn’t argue with Yoichi. Or the author, since it seems they had no idea what the hell was going on, either.

Izuku had to admit, it wasn’t a very comforting thought. But it was a thought nonetheless, and Izuku wasn’t going to take it for granted. By the sound of it, he could’ve been dead if it wasn’t for the reality jump. The thought of death wasn’t appealing to him anymore, not after properly deciding what to do with his future career and sorting through his feelings for Kacchan.

He was going to be an independent hero, not an overused commercialized symbol. And he was going to beat the living shit out of Bakugou Katsuki, and then confess his feelings. 

Because Izuku knew that Katsuki was a good person. Well, he could be. 

Maybe it was partially his fault that Katsuki turned out the way he did. Izuku had idolized the boy growing up, determined to see that sliver of awesomeness he knew was there somewhere deep down. Izuku had longed for Katsuki to be his savior, for Katsuki to grant him some wish like a genie or fix him up like a fairy godmother. He had waited and waited and waited, sitting through beatings and insults just hoping for Katsuki to turn himself around. Izuku never spoke up, never stood his ground, never even thought he was worth the trouble. If he had been more assertive, would Katsuki have stopped? 

Of course, Katsuki’s behavior wasn’t revolving around Izuku. There were many factors, like his mom’s parenting and society’s views on powerful quirks and Katsuki’s own chemical imbalance within his mind. But Izuku was a small part of it. He could’ve done Katsuki a favor– more importantly, he could’ve done himself a favor and stood up for himself instead just waiting for things to change. 

Because they never did. Katsuki’s behavior had only mellowed out. He was still rude, still cruel, still snappy and impatient and derogatory. If he really did care about Izuku like the alternate Katsuki had claimed, then he needed to get his shit together. Izuku wasn’t going to sit around and take it anymore. 

Katsuki could be a good person. He could be the love of Izuku’s life. All he needed was a little push. And a few punches in the face. Maybe a good kick to the balls, too.

“Izuku, honey,” Inko called, gently knocking on her son’s bedroom door. “It’s Monday. Time for school.”

Izuku groaned and rolled out of bed with a painful thud. He dragged the blankets with him, begrudgingly getting to his feet. “I’m up,” Izuku garbled. “Sorry mom. I’ll be out in a second.”

“Are you still feeling sick? You can stay out another day if you’re not up for classes. I’m sure you won’t be missing anything.”

Izuku shook his head, opening his closet door and pulling out his school uniform. “No, I’m feeling better,” he said.  

“Alright. I have some blueberry muffins downstairs for breakfast. Toshinori dropped them off as an apology.”

Izuku laughed at the thought of All Might bowing down and apologizing to his mom. For a sweet and short little chubby woman, she could be pretty scary when she was mad. He quickly slipped on his clothes, threw his blanket onto his bed, and joined his mom downstairs. They sat at the table, enjoying the blueberry muffins that looked a lot better than they tasted. 

“...Is it just me,” Izuku said, “or are these unnaturally… bitter.”

Inko nodded, gently placing her muffin down onto her napkin. “No, I taste it, too. It’s almost chemical-y. Like he poured cleaning supplies in them. Oh my God, do you think he’s trying to poison us?!”

Izuku snickered. “No, he wouldn’t. He likes you too much.”

Inko blushed. 

Izuku grimaced. “Mom, that’s gross.”

“What? It is not!” Inko cried. “I do think he's a very sweet man. I just can’t get over the fact that he took you to a crime-infested neighbor past midnight without even letting me know. How could I possibly be with a man who put my child in harm’s way?”

“Honestly, mom, it wasn’t Toshinori’s fault at all. Kacchan and I are the ones to blame.”

Inko sighed. “Well, I know that much. You’re grounded, by the way. I don’t think I had a chance to tell you. No video games, and you’re to come straight home after school.”

Izuku nodded. It wasn’t much different from his usual schedule, anyways. 

“But anyway, Toshinori still allowed you two to run off into that dangerous place. He drove you there. And it’s not like I can just ground him, so how do I know he learned his lesson? How do I know he won’t do it again?” Inko groaned, rubbing her eyes with her palm. “Goodness, I didn’t think I’d have this much stress from the men in my life. First your deadbeat father, and now this anxiety-ridden beanstalk.” She giggled, picking up the nasty blueberry muffin and taking a small bite.

“Well… I think you should give him a second chance,” Izuku said. “I think he’ll be really good for you.”

“But will he be good for you?” Inko asked. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

Izuku shook his head. “You shouldn’t worry about me. It’s a waste of your time.”

“Oh honey,” Inko gushed, reaching forward to hold Izuku’s face in her hands. “You are never a waste of my time, do you hear me? Never. You are my pride and joy, a brilliant boy with an incredibly bright mind. I’m honored to be your mother, and even though I know you’re strong enough to protect yourself, I will make it my life’s goal to keep you safe. I don’t want to hear those words leave your mouth ever again, understood?”

Izuku nodded, teasers pricking the corners of his eyes. 

Inko pressed a kiss to his forehead, then took the unfinished muffins and tossed them in the trash. “The bus should be here in fifteen minutes,” Inko told him from the kitchen. “Go brush your teeth and do something with that hair of yours. I’m off to work, so I’ll see you after school. Make today a wonderful day, Izuku, and for the love of God, don’t get into any more trouble.”

At school, Izuku and Katsuki found each other like magnets. Katsuki didn’t throw his arm over Izuku’s shoulders like he would do with his own Izuku, but they still walked shoulder-to-shoulder, their smiles devouring their entire faces. 

“Hey loser,” Katsuki teased, bumping his elbow with Izuku. “How’d you sleep? Any more weird dreams?”

Izuku chuckled, bumping Katsuki back. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I got some clarity.”

“Sweet,” Katsuki said. “And how’re you feeling? Mentally, I mean.”

Izuku shrugged. “Pretty good, actually.”

“Took your meds?”

Izuku nodded.

“I can tell.”

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Well, sometimes it’s like that. You can’t notice the difference, but other people can. When you first jumped realities two weeks ago, you were a lot more fidgety. You had a bad stutter and you looked super tired all the time. Plus you barely ate anything, like ever.”

Izuku frowned. “You’re making it sound worse than it is. I’ve been living without medication all my life, and I haven’t killed myself yet.”

“Not to burst your bubble dude, but not committing suicide is normal for other people. Also, whaddya mean by yet? ” 

Izuku waved his friend away. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I’ve gotten a lot of stuff done without the medication. Like I got into Yuuei and I trained really hard and I made a bunch of friends.” 

Katsuki shrugged. “And that stuff is great, don’t get me wrong. I’m super proud of you. But don’t you feel a little better now?”

Izuku thought for a moment. He did feel better. More energized. Brighter, in a way. His arms and legs didn’t feel as heavy. It wasn’t as much of a hassle to stand up straight. They were little things, very little things, but Izuku realized how nice they were. It was like he had a tiny rock in his shoe all his life, and he finally took the time to take it out. 

“The meds aren’t something you can’t live without,” Katsuki clarified. “Inko said that you’re like me, that it’s partially a medical thing. I don’t know the details about you, but for me, my adrenal glands are kinda fucked up.”

“Oh, I learned about those in health,” Izuku said. “Uh, they’re above the kidneys, right?”

Katsuki nodded. “Yeah. Boring stuff. But my point is, it’s chemical. So the meds help.”

“Wait, you take meds, too?!”

“Yeah? You didn’t know that?”

“No?!” 

The bell rang, cutting off their conversation. Izuku turned to head to class, but Katsuki caught him by the arm. “Where are you going, Deku? We’ve got stuff to do.”

“My mom explicitly told me not to get into trouble, Katsuki. If we’re caught, we’re both dead.”

“Key word: if. We’re gonna be fine. Now c’mon, the Uber is waiting outside!”

Izuku groaned, speeding after the blonde as he dashed to the entrance. He tried to act annoyed, or at least a little bit cautious, but his worry seemed to just evaporate as soon as he stepped outside. 

“Bakugou?” the driver asked, glancing at Izuku and Katsuki through the rolled down window. He looked to be about twenty or twenty-one, with a mutant quirk that made him appear like a reptile. He wore a light blue hoodie with a black leather jacket over it, and his hair was beyond damaged, dyed a dark lavender purple color. 

Katsuki nodded. The driver unlocked the doors and the two boys piled into the backseat, smiles taking over their faces as they stuffed their school bags in the space by their feet.

“My name’s Iguchi. I’m your Uber driver, obvious. Uh, where are you two headed? Actually, you kids should be in school.”

“Thirty percent tip if you keep it quiet,” Katsuki said with an arrogant smirk. 

Iguchi nodded, wearing a smirk of his own. 

“I’m Midoriya,” Izuku blurted, feeling extremely awkward. “And this is, uh, Bakugou. We’re hoping you could drop us off at Yuuei campus.”

“Weird place to skip school at, but whatever, I guess,” the driver laughed. “You guys okay with Imagine Dragons?”

Izuku grimaced. He hated Imagine Dragons, contrary to popular belief, which was out of character considering his diverse taste in music. He loved System Of A Down, Rob Zombie, Ricky Montgomery, Doja Cat, Pierce The Veil, Niki Minaj, Dr. Dre, Addison Grace, The Clash, Eminem, Taylor Swift, Lil Dickie, Sex Pistols, Hamilton– if it exists, chances are Izuku liked it and probably had at least one album memorized. But not Imagine Dragons. God, he hated Imagine Dragons. 

Katsuki fought back the immature urge to reply to the driver with “Imagine Dragon deez nuts over your face.” Time and place, he reminded himself. Find your zen, or whatever the guru guys advised. Actually, Katsuki did like Imagine Dragons. He knew of Izuku’s hatred for the band, which was about 63% why he liked them so much. Also because Imagine Dragons were good. 

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Katsuki decided to say. And with that, Iguchi blasted the music, and Izuku used every fiber in his being, every molecule of strength, not to open the door, jump out, and roll into the street. 

When they arrived at their destination, Katsuki handed over the money and the two boys hurried out. The highschoolers of Yuuei seemed to be busy with classes and training, so there weren’t any students milling around to point out the two middle schoolers. (Though technically in two weeks, Katsuki and Izuku would be considered high schoolers, too.) They headed for the front gate, debating on the best way to get inside.

“Do you think we can just scale the fence?” Katsuki asked. “I mean, I can use my quirk to get up and over. How ‘bout you?”

Izuku shrugged. “I’ve got a pretty good jump at 3% power,” he said. “I might still need a boost, though.”

“Alright,” Katsuki said, determined. He got into a cheerleader squat, his legs bent and his fingers locked together to make a sort of step-stool for Izuku. Izuku placed his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and stepped up. He pushed off Katsuki’s hands, using just 3% of One For All to send him flying over the gate. Katsuki followed shortly after, the explosions on his palms popping like a firecracker. 

Katsuki helped Izuku up, and he brushed the grass and dirt off their uniforms. “That was easier than I thought it was gonna be,” Izuku said. 

Before Katsuki could even open his mouth to agree, someone started barking at him.

“Wha–”

“What are you two kids doing here?!” screamed Hound Dog as he marched over. 

Izuku threw up his hands like there was a gun pointed between his eyes. “Nothing, sir! We’re just looking for Mr. Aizawa! We’re students!”

Hound Dog scowled. “But you’re not wearing Yuuei uniforms. What, do you think I’m stupid?”

Yes, Izuku thought to himself. He shook his head, his eyes soft and his voice clear. Hatsume had taught him how to deal with Hound Dog, the Canine Hero who was Yuuei’s Lifestyle Guidance Counselor. He was a very good man, but his attention span was that of a… well, a dog’s.

“Our uniforms got messed up during training,” Izuku lied. “Present Mic gave us these spares and said we should go ask Mr. Aizawa for backups in the meantime. Actually, I think Present Mic might still need some help cleaning up. You know how messy glitter treats can be.”

Hound Dog tilted his head, confused and curious. “Glitter treats?”

Izuku nodded. “Yeah! Like, biscuits with edible glitter. They’re really good.”

Hound Dog smiled, ear to ear. He was off in a split second, racing across the Yuuei lawn to Present Mic’s classroom, where he’d probably just end up getting even more distracted.

Katsuki gave Izuku a proud nod, and they both headed to Mr. Aizawa’s classroom.

As Izuku expected, Aizawa was wrapped in a sleeping bag when they arrived. The class was working on some pop quiz, and by the looks on their faces, it didn’t seem to be an easy one. Aizawa peeled his eyes open at the sound of the two boys entering his classroom, and immediately, he let out an irritated groan.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” he grumbled, sitting up like a vampire leaving his coffin.

“Uh, I need you to cancel my quirk,” Izuku said.

“What? Why? I thought we decided that was pointless?”

A girl in the front row raised her hand, eyebrows furrowed. “Mr. Aizawa? Why are there two dirty middle schoolers in our classroom?”

“I said no talking during the quiz, Suzie,” Aizawa hissed. “Zip it.”

“My name isn’t Suzie, it’s Aiko–”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask. I’m hungover and Nedzu is refusing to give me a raise and my idiot secretary was too busy crying over his girlfriend being mad at him to do my goddamn paperwork. So I’m pissed off, and if you talk to me, it all becomes your fucking problem, too.” He huffed out an annoyed breath, then turned to Izuku and Katsuki with a deadly scowl. “Go on, airheads.”

“Well, long story short, I’m the problem,” Izuku said. 

Aizawa rolled his eyes, sinking back into his yellow cocoon. “I could’ve told you that. You wasted my time.”  

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Katsuki added. “Just cancel his quirk and then we’ll leave.”

“Why should I? What am I getting out of it? If it’s not a fucking raise, I don’t want it.”

Katsuki plopped his backpack on the floor and started rummaging around. He pulled out a bottle of painkillers and a juice box and gave them a little shake. “For your hangover,” he said. “We have a deal?”

Aizawa sighed, taking the bait. “Fine, but I better not hear anymore shit from you, understood?”

“Thank you so much, sensei,” Izuku beamed. He turned to Katsuki, searching for words. He ended up just tackling the boy into a hug, melting in the warm embrace. “Thank you, Kat,” he said. “You’re the best.”

“Aw, don’t get sappy on me, loser,” Katsuki teased.

“I’m serious,” Izuku sniffled. “You helped me so much. I hope everything works out with your Izuku. Be honest with him, okay?”

“And make sure you give your Katsuki a good ass-whooping, yeah?” Katsuki laughed. 

“I am so confused,” blurted a kid from the back of the room. 

When Aizawa emerged from his cocoon, his eyes were glowing red, his quirk activated. On the outside, it looked like nothing was happening. Izuku and Katsuki just stood in the front of the room, hugging, while Aizawa glared at them and the class tried to decipher what the hell was going on. But for Izuku, he felt himself disconnecting from his own body. It was an out-of-body experience, watching his soul and consciousness disconnect and sink into the space between atoms. 

In a flash, he was back in his classroom. Seated at his desk. Listening to Mr. Aizawa go on and on about signing up for work studies. Like no time had passed at all.               

-

Izuku blinked. He wiggled his fingers. He rolled his shoulders back. He squeezed the sides of his desk. He was back in his reality, not that he knew how. One second he was arguing with Deku’s Kacchan, and the next he was sitting in class. Eraserhead was teaching. Kaminari and Sero were snickering about something. Yaoyorozu and Jirou were passing notes. The class was flowing as normal. Everything was normal. 

Katsuki, in front of him– his Kat– was normal. Not bitchy, not emotionally constipated, but whiny and confusing and obnoxious. He was Kat. Patient. Thoughtful. A total badass. Hotter, honestly. God, Izuku could just scream.

As soon as the bell rang, he was gonna confess his feelings. And hopefully this time nothing goes wrong.       

-

Izuku blinked. He wiggled his fingers. He rolled his shoulders back. He squeezed the sides of his desk. To his left, the window was intact. No signs of a villain attack. His head wasn’t gushing blood, and the classroom was all in one piece. Like that part had just been skipped. Removed from reality completely. Looking around, Izuku realized that everyone was acting as they always were. Goofing off, suppressing snickers, dozing off. Just like it had always been.

In front of him was Kacchan, wearing that ever-present scowl that Izuku found unnaturally adorable. Kacchan held his pencil carefully, making sure not to press it against his palm so the friction wouldn’t cause an explosion. He was thoughtful like that. Delicate, contrary to popular belief. 

Izuku spent the rest of class just admiring the blonde before him. For the first time, he left class with an empty page in his notebook. 

“Deku-kun! Hey!” Uraraka called, chasing after Izuku. She latched onto his arm, a smile prominent against her naturally flushed face while the rest of the student body left the school building. 

“Oh, hey!” Izuku beamed. He let Uraraka hang onto him, walking side-by-side with her under the semi-cloudy sky. It was nice to be back in his own reality, Iuzku thought. Though he did have a lot of fun with Kat, he had missed his friends. He had missed Todoroki’s awkwardness, Iida’s assertiveness, Tsu’s gentle bluntness, and Uraraka’s bubbly clinginess. Izuku felt like he belonged here– and he did. Everything was just right.

And then he caught a glimpse of Katsuki from the corner of his eye, Kirishima’s arm slung over his shoulders. His walk simmered down to a stop, his eyes now lingering over the blonde that he knew so well, yet not at all. He and Kirishima were… smiling. Laughing. What kind of things did Kacchan find funny? Did he like corny jokes, or dark humor, or innuendoes? Did he like to tease, or mock, or just observe and absorb? Why didn’t Izuku know any of that?

How did Kirishima get him to smile so easily? Had Izuku been doing something wrong all these years?

Izuku shook his head, clearing his mind. He must have been all jumbled from the reality jump. He knew now, confidently, that Katsuki didn’t hate him. In fact, he might love him. Of course, it wasn’t that simple. There were so many things to consider, so many variables at play. But Izuku knew– he knew– that Katsuki didn’t harbor any negative feelings toward him, not really. He just had trouble expressing them. 

Just a little push, Izuku reminded himself. Just give him a little push.   

“Iida and Todoroki asked if we wanted to join them at the mall this afternoon,” Uraraka went on. “Wanna come along? Don’t worry, they’re paying.” 

“Sorry,” Izuku said with a small smile. “I’ve got some stuff I need to take care of later today. Maybe next time?”

Uraraka frowned, but she wasn’t going to argue. She saw how Izuku’s eyes lingered over Katsuki, how they sparkled with admiration, how they never looked her way when he was around, not even once. “Yeah,” Uraraka said. “Next time. Sounds good.”

Uraraka watched as Izuku detached himself, waving her away as he melted into the river of students heading to their respective dormitories. Izuku beelined to the elevator, weaving past his classmates who congregated in the common area, happily blabbing about the school day.

Normally, Izuku would stop to listen. He loved being around other people, despite the fact that he was still getting over his social anxiety. But today he had a strict agenda. To him, it was now or never. 

He changed out of his school uniform, put his books and notebooks away, tidied up his room, and headed to the training gym. 

Kirishima saw Izuku approaching before Katsuki did. The two were sparring– or, well, Kirishima was activating his quirk while Katsuki fired blast after blast at him. Izuku’s smile tripled in size as Kirishima noticed him, ducking out of the way as Katsuki dived down to strike him. “Midoriya! Hey, dude!” Kirishima greeted, jogging up to pull the freckled boy into a sweaty hug. 

Izuku laughed, awkwardly hugging the redhead back. “Hey, Kirishima. How’re you?”

“I’m great!” Kirishima cheered, pulling back and resting his hands on Izuku’s shoulders. “Me and Bakugou were just sparring.”

“Yeah, I saw. Your quirk is amazing, seriously! I’ve never seen anyone block one of Kacchan’s blasts with just their forearms and come out unscathed.”

“Aw, thanks, man! I’ve been training pretty hard recently.”

“It’s definitely showing. Keep up the good work!”

“HEY! SHITTY HAIR! WHAT THE FUCK?!” Katsuki screamed, propelling himself over to the two other boys. He panted with anger, his forehead creased and red eyes sharpened. “You’re ditching me for this fucking nerd?! Really?!”

“I’m not ditching you, bro,” Kirishima chuckled. “Calm down.”

“I AM CALM!”

Izuku snickered. “Clearly.”

Katsuki looked about as pale as a piece of paper. He wasn’t used to Izuku talking back to him. Not now, not in middle school, not even when they were toddlers. He was pissed at how embarrassed he was, and he shoved Kirishima’s head out of the way to get a better look at Izuku. It was strange, seeing his Kacchan after a little over two weeks with Kat. Izuku had almost forgotten how feral Kacchan was. His nostrils flared, eyebrows knitted together, breathing heavy. 

“Kirishima, could you give us a few minutes real quick?” Izuku asked, his voice as sweet as sugar. Kirishima nodded, visibly eager to leave the tense atmosphere. He took his water bottle and jogged over to the locker rooms, leaving Katsuki and Izuku alone in the cavernous gym.  

“What the fuck?” Katsuki said, still breathless.

Izuku smiled. “I missed you, Kacchan.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

Izuku tilted his head, frowning. “You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“The reality jump,” Izuku said.

“What the fuck are you going on about, you shitty–”  

Katsuki was cut off by a sharp punch to his jaw. Then a kick to his stomach that sent him flying backwards. And once he was lying flat on his back, groaning, Izuku pounded the toe of his shoe right into Katsuki’s groin. He kept his promise, beating the living shit out of his crush and childhood bully, squashing any chances of the blonde having children in the future. 

Kirishima peered his head in to see what was happening, but he quickly made the decision to leave them alone. If he had learned anything over their past year at Yuuei, feral Deku wasn’t one to be fucked with. The redhead could hear Katsuki’s screams from outside the gym. 

When Izuku decided Katsuki had enough, he grabbed Katsuki’s arm and jerked him to his feet. The blonde was dizzy and confused and in pain, but memories of time spent with a different Izuku flooded his mind. He didn’t know when, or how, but he knew it happened. That chunk of time existed somewhere outside of this reality, but not in another reality, either. It was like that period was carved out and set aside, a piece belonging to another puzzle. Yet it was in Katsuki’s possession; it belonged to him, his chunk of time.  

His and Izuku’s.

It hit him like a tidal wave, and Katsuki really couldn’t handle it on top of the forming bruises between his legs. All the while, Izuku was beaming like the sun. When Katsuki gained his ability to properly stand up without swaying side-to-side, Izuku punched him right between his eyebrows, knocking him out cold.

Katsuki woke up in his dorm room with Izuku sitting at his desk, flipping through a hero magazine. The blonde groaned and massaged his temples, squinting at the bright lamp in the corner. He waited a few moments to sit up, marinating in the memories of a sassy, sarcastic, asshole version of his childhood friend. 

It was so unbelievably strange. Between the curses, the All Might slander, the fourth wall breaking, and even Katsuki’s first kiss. Izuku stole his first kiss. Not even Izuku from his own dimension– Izuku from another dimension! 

“Oh! You’re awake!” Izuku beamed, dropping the magazine on the desk as he hurried to Katsuki’s bedside. He dragged the chair with him, sitting as close to the bed as possible. “How’re you feeling?”

Katsuki scowled up at him. “You’re an ass.”

“Uh, you didn’t answer my question.”

Katsuki scoffed. After remembering everything he went through with altarnate Izuku, he felt… guilty about being so mean. But it was too out of character for him to act nice, so… 

Shit, and since when did he give a fuck about acting in charcater? And was that a typo up there? How come the stupid ass author didn't fix that?!

“I tried to bring you to Recovery Girl,” Izuku said, “but she told me it’s her day off. So I brought you to your dorm instead.”

Katsuki continued to glare at him. “Don’t act like you did me a favor, shitface. You’re the one who knocked me out!”

“Well, yeah, but you deserved it!” 

“Wha– I didn’t even do anything!”

“Not in the moment, no,” Izuku said with a small laugh. Like they were recalling a fond memory and not when Katsuki got his ass beat an hour ago. “But after all the years of torment, it was the least I could do. And who knows? Maybe they’ll be more beatings in the future.”

Horrified, Katsuki paled. “You are a psychopath,” he muttered.

Izuku’s smile brightened. “I’m so glad you think so!”

“What the hell happened to you, Deku?”

“Ah, that’s another thing. I don’t want you to call me Deku anymore. I’m fine with everyone else calling me that because of the reinvented meaning, but you can’t. Because the baggage, y’know?”

“Where the hell is all this coming from, De–”

“Izuku.”

“...Izuku.” The word felt foreign on his tongue. “What are you playing at?” 

Izuku tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean where the hell is all this coming from? Yesterday you didn’t give a shit about what I call you or how I treat you.”

“I did,” Izuku said, “but I thought that was just normal. I thought that’s how things were supposed to be. But the truth is… I met a better version of you. A version that was nice and patient and thoughtful. He was still a pain in the ass sometimes, but he didn’t hurt me. He cared about me. And he told me that deep down… you care about me too.” 

Katsuki shifted in the bed, avoiding eye contact. He had his own heart-to-heart conversation with alternate Izuku, and it made him realize that he did need to change his ways. He was hurting Izuku, badly, and things didn’t have to be that way. He didn’t want things to be that way. He wanted cuddles and bickering and… kisses. 

Shit, and now he was blushing. Katsuki scrambled for something to say to reduce the oncoming wave of embarrassment, but his throat was scratchy and his head was pounding and he couldn’t focus on anything besides the freckled boy looking at him. With fondness. With admiration. With determination .      

“We don’t have to be friends,” Izuku said, breaking the silence. “But you need to respect me.”

“I don’t want to be friends,” Katsuki muttered. 

Izuku frowned, sitting back in the chair. “That’s okay.”

“No, it’s not… D- Izuku, I meant… I want… Shit, I don’t fucking know how to do this.”

Izuku laughed. “You didn’t have relationship training with the alternate version of me?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Not exactly. He was a fucking douchebag. Just told me to stop being an asshole, which I could’ve figured out on my own.”

“But you didn’t.”

Katuski pursed his lips. “I was working on it.”

“Well, either way, we’re making progress.”

“Yeah.”

“And…”

“And?”

“I’m happy. About the progress.”

“...Me too.”

Izuku gasped. “Really?!”

Katsuki covered his eyes with his palms, a low chuckle leaving his mouth. “Yeah, you idiot.”

"One step at a time," Izuku said.

Katsuki nodded. A gentle layer of silence fell over them. Comforting. 

Izuku smiled. “Kacchan?”

“Hm?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” 

-

“Aw, did the little quirkless boy get lost again? Blasty should put you on a leash, maybe then you’d stop running into walls,” Uraraka scoffed, digging her heel into the toe of Izuku’s shoe. She kept him in place, a devilish smile painted on her naturally-flushed face. She used her quirk to float Izuku’s bookbag just out of reach while Iida stood behind her, clearing his throat in a failed attempt to hide his laughter. 

Izuku shifted, using his free foot to kick Uraraka’s shin, forcing her to recoil and release his foot, as well as her hold on his things. His bag came crashing back down, but Izuku was quick to grab it, sidestepping past the two of them and hurrying into the horde of students filtering out of the main school building. Within the three minutes after the final bell rang, Izuku had lost track of Kat, making his whole confession plan go up in flames. 

He was more sure than ever before that Kat needed to know about Izuku’s feelings. As long as he was honest and communicated effectively, everything would work out. He didn’t want to wait anymore, but it seemed like every person on the planet was trying to stop him. And frankly, he was getting fucking sick of it. 

Deep breaths, Izuku told himself. Don’t freak out. We got everything under control. 

“Kat, wait up!” Izuku called, finally catching up to the blonde. He latched onto Katsuki’s arm, pulling him away from the class A dormitory entrance. 

“Hey loser,” Katsuki said with a small laugh. “I was just gonna text you and see if you wanted to train, and maybe grab something to eat.”     

Izuku’s heart buzzed in his chest. As if he needed an emotional notification– he was well aware of his feelings for his best friend. He wasn’t some fucking airhead, like Deku’s Kacchan. He snickered at the thought. Really, he hoped those two got it together.

But right now it wasn’t about those two. It was about him and Kat. Kat, his beloved snarky blondie. His biggest inspiration, brightest motivation, toughest rival, and (literal) partner in crime. Izuku knew since they were toddlers that he never wanted to leave Katsuki’s side. He admired that fighting spirit, that incredible stubbornness that rivaled his own. They were two hard-headed idiots, two combative geniuses, two boys whose lives had been tangled together since infancy. And, if all went well, would stay tangled together for the rest of time. In this reality, and the next, and the next. 

“Uh, you okay ‘Zuku?” Katsuki chuckled, tilting his head a bit. “You’re just kinda staring at me–”

He couldn’t think of anything else. He surged forward, eyes closed, hand resting on Katsuki’s shoulder for balance. This kiss was nothing like the one Deku’s Kacchan had shared with Izuku. That was drunk and lost and mixed up and misplaced. This… This was electric. Kat’s lips were soft (Izuku’s were rougher and chapped) and the gentle warmth radiating off of him greeted Izuku as strongly as it had the very first time, all those years ago. 

In a way, Izuku knew this day was coming. He knew, even as a child, that he’d fall in love with this blonde idiot with a big brain and a loud mouth that taught him how to punch and kick and curse and scream. There was no avoiding it.

And in a way, he was relieved. Even if, somehow, Kat hated him afterwards, at least Izuku got to feel this rush at least once. He was able to claim Katsuki’s lips as his own at least once. It was more than enough and not nearly so all at once. It was fulfilling and starved and content and empty all tied together with a reassured bow. The kiss held so many emotions, so many thoughts, so many questions. 

The soft-spoken words that followed held all the answers. 

“Izuku?”

Izuku swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah?” His hand was curled into the fabric of Katsuki’s shirt, their lips still only centimeters apart. 

“You kissed me.”

Izuku smirked. “Yeah.”

“...Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, that’s what I asked, you goofball.”

“I kissed you and you call me a goofball?”

Katsuki laughed, his breath tickling Izuku’s lips– lips that had just been pressed against his own seconds ago. “Are you saying you’re not a goofball? ‘Cause that’s just a lie. You’re the biggest goofball of them all.”

Izuku smiled. “I guess so. Do you… want to be a goofball with me?”

Katsuki paused. With every second that passed, Izuku inched backwards, and Katsuki hated that. He wanted Izuku close, against him, hugging him, kissing him, smiling at him, laughing with him. God, he wanted to hear that laugh. And the sarcastic, borderline bitchy comments that came with it. He loved that little freckled monster. He loved him like the ocean loved the sand, like the flowers loved their roots and their petals. 

The kiss gave him a way to express that. So he stole another, and with it he took Izuku’s breath away. 

Izuku pulled away after a few seconds, his green eyes wild. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

Katsuki laughed, soft and raspy and blissful. “I’m not really sure what you were asking, but yeah. Of course.”

“I like you,” Izuku whispered. “Romantically, I mean. Hence the kiss.”

“The dots are connecting now, thank you,” Katsuki teased. 

“And…” Izuku went on. “I want you to be my goofball.”

“Your goofball?”

“Yeah, mine.”

"Oh.”

"My boyfriend."

"...Oh." 

“If not, it’s fine. We can stay friends–”

“You think I want to stay friends after that?” Katsuki blurted. “I’ll be the best damn boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“Pfft, we’ll see about that.”

“Does this mean you got over Mirkou?”

“HA! That’s funny. Get over Mirkou? I could never. If she pulled up right now and asked me to marry her, I’d probably chop you up into nineteen pieces, pee on you, throw you in a trash compactor, and run away with that sexy bunny to Paris or–”

Katsuki shut him up with another kiss. This time, he was attacked by a tidal wave of memories. An alternate version of Izuku, a riff in their realities, a million confusing things that he didn’t want to think about. He could assess all that later. For now, he was busy. For now, it wasn’t about Deku or Kacchan or All Might. Not the bullies or the villains or the corrupted Hero Commission. No, right now it was about them. Their story. Their secret. Just Katsuki and Izuku. 

And Shinsou Hitoshi, who was fighting the urge to throw a rock at those two morons. He grimaced, cursing himself for once again being in the wrong place at the wrong time.