Chapter Text
ⴵ
Izuku died in a variety of ways.
Bleeding out, being impaled, suffocating under fallen debris.
It never got any easier.
No matter how many times Katsuki had to live through the same day, the ache never dulled.
At one point, the blond faked a sickness, hoping (a little desperately) that maybe if he just did nothing for the entire day, then nothing would happen.
The loop reset somewhere in the afternoon. For some reason, a shiver wracked Katsuki’s spine when that happened. Not knowing how Izuku died— but knowing that he certainly did— was terrifying.
It left him a little more hollowed out the next day. He was quickly pulled back into reality when his partner’s head was crushed, though.
He was pinned to the floor. It was too easy for the villain to clasp to hands together and let them fall.
Another time, Katsuki tried just… running. He bolted out of the apartment and away from the parking lot. He ran and ran and ran, not looking or caring where he was going, he just kept going until his exhaustion caught up to him and he tripped on a railway track.
Izuku had followed him, not that it needed to be said.
Izuku had saved him, another silent rule.
Katsuki only caught a glimpse of his friend’s severed arm as the train sped past.
He felt weariness grab ahold of him completely. Still, he refused to give up. He couldn’t.
During the times he had caught Eyeball, the villain just mocked him with a smug grin before Izuku was pushed over a ledge, or slit at the throat, or gained a couple broken ribs.
His bones had pierced his lungs. Katsuki had to sit through another one of Izuku’s painfully slow goodbyes. They always ended with a breath, then a, “Kacchan.” And then nothing.
It was a cycle. Day after day, the greenette would look at him with concern and Katsuki would try not to throw up on the spot. Then, he’d try to get his friend to stay home, naively hoping that, for once, they could take a break.
Izuku never conceded. It was always something. Something more important than his own life, apparently.
Even when they got 1A involved, it only resulted in more people being subjected to the mangled, burnt, bruised body of Izuku.
Katsuki was tired. He grew so tired. But he didn’t give up. He’d never give up. He kept going on the slim chance that he could find a way out.
Because he had to. In a way, this was another kind of thing Katsuki did to atone, even if that wasn’t exactly his main intention. Still, he’d take what he could get.
He owed it to the nerd to save him. And Katsuki would save him. Over and over again, he’d save his best friend.
”I’ll get stronger before you have the chance.”
Izuku— his Izuku— was going to survive.
”Kacchan, you were amazing!”
But…
”Are you alright?”
No matter what he did, the day would reset.
”Kacchan, I need y—!”
He would get hopeful, and then that hope would be shattered right in front of him.
”I was just worried.”
Every single time Izuku would cry out in pain, or choke on his own blood, or lose the light in his eyes— each gasping breath would haunt Katsuki forever.
”Why are you leaving me behind?!”
But it didn’t matter.
”My… Kacchan…”
As long as Katsuki had another chance to save him, he’d take it.
Because he couldn’t lose Izuku.
More than anything, he couldn’t lose Izuku.
ⴵ
Katsuki threw open the door to his room. “Call Shinsou.”
Izuku blinked at him, quickly setting his bowl of cereal down on the counter, “Huh?”
Then, all of a sudden, the greenette’s face fell. He rushed to Katsuki with a worried gleam in his eye, “Woah, Kacchan, are you alright? You look… you’re shaking.”
Katsuki’s eyes were red and his hair was definitely messed up, but he brushed off his friend’s concerns and instead handed him a notebook.
Izuku gingerly took it and skimmed through some of the pages, expression darkening every time he flipped the paper.
“Time loop. Jikan Kuro.”
“How long…?”
“Lost count. It—“ The blond sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “It doesn’t matter. I just…”
“Kacchan,” Izuku closed the notebook. He set a gentle hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki nearly flinched. “Look, just— just tell me the plan. I’ll go, you—“
“If you’re gonna tell me to sit back…” Katsuki lifted his own hand and grasped Izuku’s wrist, guiding it away from his shoulder. He didn’t let go, though. Izuku didn’t mention it. “Then you can shut it. I need to be there.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say—“
“I need to be there.” Katsuki spoke resolutely.
Izuku sent him a skeptical look, but the blond guessed he probably seemed really pitiful at that moment, because a second later the greenette just gave him a hesitant nod and guided him to the kitchen.
“Okay, but you should eat—“
“Call Shinsou.”
“I will!” Izuku reassured him with a smile that was so forced that Katsuki almost snorted, “But while I do, you just eat something. Drink some water.”
Katsuki groaned, “I need to—“
“Please?” Izuku held his hand gently, something pleading twinkling in his eyes.
And, because at this point Katsuki knew desperation in and out, he complied.
The blond grabbed an apple and, at Izuku’s pointed stare, a glass of water before eating for the first time in… a while.
Izuku forced him to have a granola bar, too. When the sweetness hit Katsuki’s tastebuds, he felt something inside him lighten. Ever so slightly. And when the water flowed down his coarse throat, well, Izuku only smiled when he refilled the glass a few moments later.
“I kinda need a favor…” Izuku spoke over the phone after getting ahold of Shinsou. He was pacing around the living room a little stressfully. Katsuki thought that was ironic, but didn’t say anything, “Well— it’s more like a mission. You remember Jikan Kuro?”
Katsuki zoned out as soon as that name was mentioned. Irritation creeped into his chest.
When he got his hands on Eyeball, there’d be no body left to bury.
“Okay! We’ll meet you there. Thanks so much, Shinsou, you have no idea how much this means.”
No kidding.
Izuku hung up the phone and turned to face Katsuki with a little more hope in his eyes than there was before, “Okay, he’s in.”
Katsuki let out a breath, “Obviously. Come on, let’s go.”
“Uh— already?” Izuku asked, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head, “I mean, the alarm hasn’t even gone off yet—“
“So?” Katsuki pushed himself off of the counter with a grunt and rubbed his eyes, “I’ll get suited up. You—“
Stay here.
“—Do what you want.”
“Kacchan, listen. Shinsou’ll text me when he’s ready. So how about we just… stay here for a minute?”
Katsuki looked at him. for some reason, Izuku winced.
“Seriously. You— this whole thing… it’s taken a lot out of you, Kacchan. I’m worried.”
Katsuki scoffed, “You can worry all you want when I can actually get to Thursday. From now on, every single time it hits Wednesday I think I’ll just curl up on my bed and stay there.”
At Izuku’s somber expression, the blond sighed. He walked over to the man and raised a hand to ruffle the green locks, earning him a scrunched up face from Izuku.
“I’ll be fine. Just… try and stick by me, nerd.” He gave the man as warm of a smile as he could muster.
Izuku’s eyes sparked, just a little, “Always, Kacchan.”
Usually, the greenette would bat his hand away. As it was, though, Izuku just let it stay there when his gaze flickered away from Katsuki’s, “Just— if it gets too much, tell me, okay?”
The blond clicked his tongue and headed for his room, “You got it, doc.”
—
Whenever Katsuki decided to go the route of the first loop— that being, walking to the agency, heading to the parking lot, trying to grapple with the surprise attacks— nine out of ten times, that sadistic freak would be there.
He didn’t leave his crew behind, he liked to fight with them, they worked as a team. So, if Katsuki cooperated, so would they.
He was counting on that fact as he and Izuku flew to that damn building.
It was a simple plan (Katsuki’s mind had been put through the wringer, he thought that a simple plan was fair enough) but it could definitely work.
Shinsou would be stationed right outside the parking lot, hidden amongst one of the policemen in casual clothing (baring his voice modulator), ready for Katsuki to throw Eyeball through one of the windows to be mind controlled.
He was looking forward to that part the most.
Then, it was as simple as getting Eyeball to release the loop.
Bam. World saved. Katsuki was a genius.
As the three prepared for the plan, Katsuki tried to squish the hope rising up in his chest. He wanted to be certain that they’d win, that this loop would finally end but he knew he couldn’t get his expectations too high. It’d only make things worse.
Izuku was always glancing at him in concern. He asked several times if Katsuki was okay, if he was too tired, if he wanted to just sit it out.
Katsuki told him to shut up and that he’d sooner die than sit this out.
It hit a little too close to home, but then Izuku just said that he’d rather die than let Katsuki get hurt anymore.
Yeah, well, two could play at that game. Idiot.
It was a little nice, he supposed. Just a little. And he’d never admit that out loud.
Izuku glared at anyone who looked at him the wrong way and took charge in dealing with everyone at their agency. It was kinda funny to see the nerd be such a mother hen about the situation, but it was also refreshing. Warmth bloomed up in his chest.
Other than that, Katsuki tried to keep as close to his original movements as possible, not daring to leave the agency until the alert was sounded.
And, when it did, he felt his heart leap into his throat. Izuku offered him a hand, Katsuki hesitantly took it.
As the two made their way to the parking lot, Izuku got a weird look on his face. It was nothing to be worried about from what Katsuki could tell, but still, it was clear that something was on his mind.
Whatever it was, it was nerdy. And therefore either vital information or something too small to care about.
(Izuku argued that his questions were always vital. Katsuki begged to differ.)
Still, the blond kept that in the back of his mind, resolving the ask his friend about it after the fight.
—
The plan went off without a hitch. Shinsou was in the midst of the officers in a Can’t Stop Twinkling hoodie (a gift from Aoyama) which, while it wasn’t exactly subtle, it did make him look like some sort of hero fanboy. Even less suspicious.
The fight was… okay, well Katsuki kinda ate dirt at one point. His reflexes weren’t as sharp as usual, but Izuku was there to pick up the slack. Of which there was many.
Izuku seemed a little too in tune with protecting him. The sappy weirdo; all concerned.
Disgusting. Katsuki would never.
Anyway. Even with the small amount of energy he had left, he still managed to grasp Eyeball’s arm and shoot him outside with an explosion.
And Katsuki would just like to highlight how expertly he tossed Eyeball out. His palm seared into the man’s arm. In a second, the freak was rocketing away from the fight in a burst of smoke and fire.
Katsuki thought he heard a screech. He relished in the sound.
Eventually, the fight ended with the villains knocked out (guns destroyed, thank you) and the heroes patching up their wounds.
All that was left was to check on Shinsou.
Before he fled the scene, though, Katsuki took notice of the contemplative look still on Izuku’s face, “What is it?”
“Oh, it’s just…” The greenette’s brows were furrowed, eyes gleaming with something apprehensive, “Why does the loop restart when I die, anyway?”
Katsuki scoffed, “How should I know? Maybe you’re so much of an idiot that time and space physically can’t handle it.”
“Could it be something to do with the quirk?” Izuku continued as if Katsuki hadn’t even said anything, “Does Kuro restart the loop whenever I die? I mean… I doubt he knows whenever I die but it’s still a possibility. Am I just destined to die every loop? Will breaking the loop even save me? Maybe Kuro just saw what happened the first time around and decided to make that the thing that keeps on repeating. That might be why you can’t break out… I guess there’s really no telling how his quirk works, though. Maybe we could interview the past victims? Maybe they’ll have some valuable input. Yeah, that could be a good idea. Although, we can’t really be sure that they’d want to say anything, I can see how this quirk could be pretty… traumatic to say the least. But… yeah, we should try and get the agency to reach out to them!”
Izuku continued muttering about his little schemes, but Katsuki didn’t hear any of it. The nerd’s motormouth was a wonder and an annoyance all at the same time but, even if he hated it, Katsuki could always decipher what his friend was saying.
And because of that, he felt himself grow pale.
”Will breaking the loop even save me?”
Katsuki… didn’t think of that.
He— he didn’t think of that.
Getting Eyeball to break the loop; would it be a death sentence?
Of course Katsuki knew that being a hero meant that he, and those around him, could die. It was an occupational hazard, there was no sugarcoating it; if you were a hero, your life was constantly being threatened. No matter how strong you were.
But Katsuki assumed that they had more time. They just started the rest of their lives. They all went through hell and back to get here, it couldn’t end so early.
His world just shrunk down to the familiar warmth surrounding him, a person who he’d been with his entire life, someone who he had always stood next to, no matter what.
And he wasn’t planning on ever stopping
If staying in this loop meant that Izuku would live, even if just for a few hours— if repeating the same day over and over again kept Izuku alive—
What was Katsuki supposed to do?
“Find another way.” The blond whispered to himself.
With a sudden sense of urgency, he bolted it for the exit, Izuku yelling behind him in confusion.
New plan, new plan, new plan.
When he got out, there were police stationed in a circle around Shinsou and Eyeball, guns raised. Shinsou looked beyond relieved, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. Eyeball was—
Already under Shinsou’s quirk—
Without thinking, Katsuki raised his palm and aimed directly for Eyeball.
But before he could launch an explosion, someone was in front of him. Hands grasped his wrists, keeping them together with minimal strength.
“Kacchan!” Izuku. “What are you doing?!”
“Move!” Katsuki tried to jerk his hands free, but Izuku was stronger. Right now, he was so much stronger than the blond, “I need to—“
“You’ll knock him out of Shinsou’s mind control!” Izuku grunted when Katsuki rammed into him, “This is— you can finally break out!”
“Let me go!”
“Kacchan—“
“Mindfreak!” Katsuki yelled, voice croaked and cracked.
Shinsou snapped his head around to them, confusion lining his features when he took in the scene in front of him.
“You have to let him go!”
“No!” Izuku turned his head to look at Shinsou, grip still not letting up no matter how much Katsuki shoved him, “Give the command! Shinsou, quick! Give the command!”
“Don’t!”
“Shinsou, please!”
“Mindfreak, I will kill you—”
“Please!” Izuku screamed with the same amount of desperation as Katsuki. And that was a thought, wasn’t it?
“Just give him the command!”
Shinsou looked between the two heroes, conflicted beyond belief. His eyes were wide, his mind was fuzzy, he was tired from fighting. A knife was shoved into his leg and he was keeping a hold on the villain in front of him.
Katsuki knew, at that moment, what a difficult decision it would be for him.
“Do it now!”
“Just listen!”
“Shinsou, hurry up!”
“I‘ll blow you up to pieces if you even dare—”
“Damn it, Shinsou, just go!”
He couldn’t choose.
Between Dynamight and Deku, he couldn’t choose.
“Shinsou!”
“Mindfreak!”
But if the decision was between Katsuki and Izuku?
Shinsou turned back to the villain, a hand raised to his voice modulator.
“Kuro—“
“NO!” Katsuki screamed, a strangled, awful sound.
In a moment, he raised his hands, and spark flew from his palms. He pried his arms away from the grip that held them and set off a desperate, scathing explosion—
Izuku shrieked and flung his arms over Katsuki’s gloves, encircling them with inhuman strength.
In a second, he was thrown off. Not by Katsuki but—
But by the explosion.
In a blinding flash of light, Izuku’s form flew across the street. His body crashed against a building before tipping forward and crumpling to the floor.
Eyeball was unfrozen, Shinsou and the policemen were all on the concrete, groaning in pain.
But Katsuki didn’t see any of it. In that moment, all he saw was Izuku’s burnt body.
Molted skin peaked out from below the incinerated patches of his costume, blood was leaking out from the back of his head and his hair resembled something more like ash. He didn’t move. He didn’t even twitch. Black, charred spots were painted across him, head to toe, he looked like a mangled imitation of a human being.
Even from a distance, Katsuki could tell he wasn’t breathing.
His palms never felt so scathed.
ⴵ
For a second, Katsuki didn’t open his eyes. For a second, all he could see was darkness. Nothing but black.
That second was over too quickly, though. He pried his eyes open a few moments later. Above him was his ceiling, painted white with miniature cracks in it.
He was lying on his bed. Behind him, his pillow cushioned his aching head to no avail.
Slowly, Katsuki lifted himself into a sitting position and leaned back on the headboard.
Now that he was awake, his eyes were wide open, unblinking. Stinging.
The blond shakily lowered his head to the side, staring holes into his limp hand. The skin was scared, nails cut evenly, but other than that nothing was out of the ordinary. Nothing to even suggest…
Katsuki just sat there for… he doesn’t know how long. He felt pins and needles riddle his limbs, but he didn’t dare move an inch.
Distantly, he realised he was shaking, though.
He didn’t really… feel entirely there. He wasn’t sure if he was breathing or not. He… he had to be. Katsuki wasn’t choking on nothing, he wasn’t being strangled by an invisible hand.
Oh, but at the same time, he was. As he continued to just exist, his insides were being dug out and thrown haphazardly into a yawning void. It didn’t hurt. Not exactly. It felt like pain, his nerves were shot and buzzed under his grey skin, but it didn’t hurt. It was just tight and overwhelming and crushing.
It was worse than the stinging, aching sensation that he felt every single time the loop reset.
The plan… it failed…
It failed… because…
Footsteps approached his door, being followed by a light knocking, ”Kacchan?”
Katsuki felt bile rise in his throat.
”You’re usually awake by now… I— I heard your alarm go off and I know you can never sleep with an alarm so— wait, are you awake?”
Katsuki didn’t answer. He didn’t make a sound. He doubted he even breathed in that moment.
After a few seconds of silence, he heard a sigh through the door.
”…Okay. I’m… I’m gonna come in. If you don’t want me to, just say so.”
With no answer, his door clicked.
Izuku peaked his head inside, bowl of cereal in hand. When he caught sight of Katsuki, he opened the door all the way and his expression fell.
“Kacchan,” quickly, he put the cereal on Katsuki’s desk and stepped over to the bed, worry coating every inch of his face. “Are you alright?”
Katsuki stared at the earnest, bright, green eyes. And he felt something clog up his throat.
And, unbidden, his vision started to blur.
“Waa-chan?!” Izuku began to look frantic. He knelt to the floor and his hands flittered in front of Katsuki uselessly, like he was unsure of what to do.
Tears gathered and fell from his eyes in quick succession and choked off sobs filled Katsuki’s throat.
Without thinking, the blond tipped forward. He pressed his face into Izuku’s shoulder and wrapped arms around his back, clenching the fabric weakly.
Izuku hugged Katsuki back a moment later with questions spilling from his lips. The blond didn’t answer them, all he did was cry into Izuku’s shoulder, his entire being weighed down by the reset and every single loop that he had to live through. Every single loop that Izuku didn’t live through.
He was wrong, earlier. This was by far the worst one.
“I’m sorry.” Katsuki hiccuped, tightening his grasp, “I— I didn’t— I wasn’t—“
“Kacchan, Kacchan, it’s okay—“
“It isn’t!” Slowly, he fell back into his body. He felt how the dull ache echoed through his bones and he felt how shakes wracked his frame, “I— everything I do— it— it doesn’t matter!”
“What are you talking about?” Izuku asked and— he sounded choked up, too, “Kacchan, what happened?”
With a hitched breath, Katsuki seemed to cry harder, “The loop. I can’t save you!”
Izuku was rubbing circled into his back and Katsuki felt his own shoulder get a little wet, “What loop?”
“Time— timeloop. J— Jikan Kuro, he—“ with a strangled cry, Katsuki dropped his weight onto the greenette. Izuku held him up without question, “I’ve tried to break out so many times. But— every single time, you die! Izuku— Izuku you just keep dying!” Katsuki sobbed, then, “I don’t know what to do.”
He felt the younger freeze completely.
“A— and—“ another wave of tears fell out of his eyes. He felt a burst of pain shoot through his chest, “Last time— the plan, it failed because— I— I killed you—”
His grip tightened again. Katsuki let out a louder cry, the image of Izuku burned, mangled, molten, charred, because of him—
“Oh, Kacchan…” Izuku— because he was alive— breathed, lifting a hand to rest on the blond’s hair, “Kacchan. I’m— I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.” Katsuki pleaded.
Izuku nodded ever so slightly, “R— Right.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry—”
Izuku hiccuped, “I forgive you. It’s okay, Kacchan. I forgive you, I forgive you. It’s not your fault.”
“It is.”
“I forgive you, and— and I would’ve forgiven you, then, too.”
“You were burnt—”
“Kacchan, It’s okay,” Izuku sobbed into his hoodie, his own arms tightening around the blond, “It’s okay.”
When Katsuki cried, Izuku’s own frame began to shake. The two clung to each other, pouring out their grief into the other’s shoulder, although Katsuki wasn’t sure Izuku grasped the scope of the situation.
Still, the greenette never left his side, not for a second. He just sat there, knees digging into the hardwood floor, holding Katsuki’s shattered pieces together with an iron grip.
Their tears didn’t let up. Katsuki didn’t know how long they sat there, just crying while Katsuki blubbered about how many times he failed and Izuku whispered reassurances into his ear. It didn’t matter, though.
All that mattered— all that ever mattered— was the freckled man in his arms, sobbing right along with him in a broken kind of symphony. Because he and Izuku were always together, on the same wavelength, following each other through anything.
Soulmates.
Izuku would keep chasing after him, no matter how many times his friend failed. And Katsuki would do the same, regardless of how Izuku could never seem to survive.
“Izuku…” Katsuki eventually croaked out, “I can’t— please. Just— I just want you alive.”
Tears streamed down the greenette’s face, “I’m here, Kacchan, I’m alive, I’m right here.”
“Stay, please, just— stay, ‘zuku. ’zuku. Izuku— please—“
“I’m here, I— Kacchan.”
Hours or seconds passed and neither noticed. Katsuki eventually lifted his face from his friend’s shoulder, only to bury it in his hair a second later. Izuku broke a little more at that.
Then, something buzzed in Izuku’s pocket. It was his phone. The alarm. They had to get going to the agency, like they do every day.
After a few moments where the two stilled at the sound, Izuku slowly raised a hand from Kacchan’s back, reaching into his pocket for his phone.
It trembled in his grasp.
He put the alarm on silent, and pocketed the device.
Japan might’ve needed him, but at that moment… Kacchan needed him more.
For once, Izuku chose to be selfish.
Kacchan gasped, more tears beginning to stream down his face, pooling in Izuku’s curls. The two held each other impossibly tighter, and let time pass by without them.
—
Eventually, they separated, eyes bloodshot and faces blotchy. Katsuki fell back into his bed without a sound, flinging an arm over his face, grimacing at the way his tears dampened his hoodie sleeve.
Izuku giggled wetly at his displeasure but rubbed his own face dry with his arm. Neither of their methods produced much of a difference, though. The two heroes didn’t really mind.
Izuku stood up and voiced that he was going to go and get them some breakfast since his cereal was no doubt way too soggy, now. Katsuki snagged his hand for a second, gaze a little panicked. Izuku squeezed their intertwined hands and asked if Katsuki wanted to come with him.
Katsuki rubbed his eyes and said yes.
They stumbled over to their little kitchen, beginning to scour the place for food. Izuku didn’t really want to get Katsuki working on something, but the blond just stated that he needed a distraction, so they eventually agreed on making Fuyumi’s mapo tofu.
Hesitantly, Katsuki grabbed his phone and dialed a number. Izuku gave him an inquisitive look but didn’t say anything.
“Hey, IcyHot.”
Izuku perked up at the name, leaning into Katsuki’s space to see that he had called Todoroki.
”Hello, Bakugou,” Todoroki spoke from the other side of the line, wind whipping past him, ”What did you need?”
Katsuki set his phone down on the counter with a huff, “We aren’t gonna be in today. You better be on guard.”
When Izuku tensed from beside him, Katsuki just quietly told him to gather the ingredients. The greenette did so quickly, appreciating the small task.
”Why not?” The man asked. He wasn’t being accusatory, just genuinely curious, ”Are you two sick?”
“Uh— I’ll tell you later.”
”Bakugou, is everything alright?”
Katsuki scoffed, “No. But— I’ll tell you later.”
”…Okay. I trust you. Is Midoriya there?”
And the easy way Todoroki said that. I trust you.
Katsuki didn’t have the energy to smile. But he hummed lightly, figuring that’d be enough.
“I’m here!” Izuku called from where he was shifting through their fridge, “Hi, Todoroki!”
”Hello, Midoriya,” There was a smile evident in the man’s voice now. Inwardly, Katsuki snorted, ”How are you?”
“Uh— oh, well, you know—“
“Bad.” Katsuki answered for him.
“Kacchan!”
”No, no. Thank you, Bakugou. You’re a lot more honest than Midoriya is.”
“Wh— hey!”
”So,” Todoroki began, as if he hadn’t heard Izuku, ”What are you doing, Bakugou?”
“Making the best mapo tofu ever. You?”
“Fuyumi always gets so happy whenever you make that, you know.” Shuffling was heard from the other side, ”I’m just on patrol right now. I’m about to pass by Jirou and Kaminari’s agencies.”
When Izuku dumped all of the ingredients on the counter, Katsuki quickly pulled up Fuyumi’s recipe, “You should yell at the top of your lungs. Give Jirou something to listen to.”
“Kacchan, that’s not—“
”Would that… be funny?”
“Extremely.”
“Kacchan! Todoroki, don’t—“
Katsuki slapped a hand over the nerd’s mouth, “Record it.”
”If you say so.”
The three talked back and forth with each other. Katsuki fell into the familiar routine of preparing food while Izuku helped. Todoroki was on the other end, providing no small amount of comfort to the conversation.
It was nice. Whenever it was the three of them, it was always nice. And if anyone told Todoroki that then Katsuki would fling himself into the sun.
Eventually, though, the mapo tofu was ready, so Izuku and Katsuki grabbed some utensils and dug in. Todoroki asked how it was and, while it wasn’t as good as Fuyumi’s, it still made Katsuki’s heart just that little bit lighter.
By the way Izuku relaxed into the couch, he figured it went both ways.
Katsuki didn’t manage to finish his food, but Izuku assured him that that was alright. They had leftovers.
Katsuki never had leftovers.
Todoroki stayed on call until he had to go and write up a few reports, so he bid his friends goodbye and left them to the quiet of their apartment.
The blond leaned back into the couch, exhaustion quickly catching up to him. It was still morning but… he was tired.
When was the last time he slept…?
Izuku glanced at him from where he was washing the dishes.
“Kacchan?”
“Hmm?” Katsuki had shut his eyes, feeling himself drift off quickly.
“…Nevermind. You should sleep.”
“Tell ‘e.” The blond grumbled, face scrunching up in annoyance. Izuku was so cryptic sometimes, it was irritating.
He heard the tap shut off and then he felt the couch dip next to him. A weight was being pressed into his shoulder. Instinctively, Katsuki moved his chin so that it was resting against the unruly green curls.
“Can you tell me… about everything, later?”
Later.
“…Yeah.”
Later.
Katsuki let his consciousness slip.
☾
When he opened his eyes, he found that the room was bathed in darkness. He was laying down on— his bed. Something… a blanket was thrown over his form, almost covering his face.
Immediately, Katsuki gasped and sat up, blanket falling off of him.
No, no, no—
He threw his legs over the bed. They landed with a loud thump.
Sickening thump—
Katsuki dashed out of his room, throwing open his door with too much force. It hit the wall. Katsuki didn’t pay it any mind.
The rest of the apartment was almost pitch black.
“Izuku?” He called out frantically, snapping his head around for any trace of his friend.
Then, he heard something distantly crash against the floor, followed by footsteps. A door was thrown open and suddenly the apartment was painted in light.
Katsuki blinked, adjusting to the brightness. He snapped his head around to where Izuku was standing, looking panicked, by a light switch.
He had an outrageous bed head and bags hung under his eyes, but other than that he seemed pretty alert, “What? What is it? What happened? Are you okay?”
Katsuki blinked at him, confusing thrumming under his skin. He quickly looked around the apartment, not noticing anything out of the ordinary.
But… why was it dark…?
“…What time is it?”
“Uh…” The greenette rubbed his eyes and pulled out his phone. After squinting at the screen for a second, he gave Katsuki a weird look, “You were sleeping for the entire day. N-Not that that’s a bad thing! Actually, I’m really glad—“
“Izuku.” Katsuki breathed out, not daring to hope, “What time is it?”
Izuku must have picked up on the urgency in his voice because his face softened and he took a step towards the blond, “It’s about two in the morning. So… just a little late."
Just a little late, he says.
It was two a.m.
It— it was two a.m.
"So, that means… It's Thursday?"
Something like realisation crossed over Izuku's face. Carefully, he approached Katsuki and wrapped his arms around the man.
Softly, he spoke, "Yeah, Kacchan. It's Thursday."
Thursday.
He had done it.
He didn't know how but— it was Thursday.
With trembling hands, Katsuki raised his own arms and encased his friend in a hug, resting a palm in his hair.
After a second, Katsuki tightened his grip, face scrunching up.
He had already cried his guts out this morning. He wasn't gonna cry again.
Instead, he released a long, heavy breath, and felt a crushing weight lift off of his chest.
While a part of him felt free, another part of him just felt worn. It was a little unfair; after everything, Katsuki didn't even get to feel lighter than air. But…
He didn't really mind.
With his best friend right in front of him, warm and breathing and alive, he didn't really mind.
The two didn't separate after that. Instead, they spent some time curled up together on Izuku’s bed, laptop sitting in front of them and playing old All Might movies.
Katsuki, despite sleeping for over ten hours, still felt his body dragging him down like he hadn’t slept for a month. Which was annoying.
He buried his face in the crook of Izuku’s neck and closed his eyes, listening to the nostalgic sounds of some cheesy battle with an awful depiction of All Might’s power in the background.
Izuku wrapped an arm around his shoulders and rested his cheek on the blond’s head, fully engrossed in the movie despite its inaccuracies. Like a nerd.
“Y’know, Kacchan.” Izuku whispered, “I would’ve done the same thing for you.”
Katsuki grumbled, “I know.”
“You didn’t have to—“
“Shut up. I’m going to.”
Every single time. I’m going to do the same thing.
“Yeah. I will, too.”
Always.
When the morning came, the two were lying on the bed, tangled together underneath Izuku’s ugly All Might blanket.
They had a lot to talk about, sure, but for now, this was enough.
It was Thursday. They had time.