Chapter Text
As fate would have it, neither of them would be able to avoid the other.
Situation after situation, the two boys seemed forever trapped in each other’s path. Again, and again Katsuki was forced into facing Deku, and in turn, face himself.
He had begun to question a lot of his former motives when it came to Deku, and what exactly it was pushing him to keep the boy at arm’s length.
It had grown painfully obvious at some point that Deku was forcing the distance he had attempted to wedge between them, and for some reason, it made Katsuki more eager to get the boy’s attention.
Keep your eyes on me, Shitty Deku!
The thought plagued him after the two of them finally faced each other after months of avoiding one another, especially after the kidnapping. Since they fought at Ground Beta, he had started to notice how more often, more prominently, he wanted Deku’s eyes on him. He wanted Deku to see how strong he was, but there was always that odd pressure sitting in the back of his chest, like the motive to have those eyes on him weren’t based solely around Deku’s former admiration of him.
There was something else there now, but he couldn’t tell what the hell it was. He just knew that Deku continued to try ignoring him, and it had gotten to the point that he couldn’t handle it anymore, especially after knowing Deku was struggling to do it in the first place.
It made Katsuki want to push him, to see how long before the nerd broke and gushed over him again.
“Kacchan, why do you keep getting in my way?”
The question was abrupt, and Izuku could see on Kacchan’s face that the boy hadn’t been expecting it. It was after class, just a free afternoon for the kids to relax as they didn’t have any other training or engagements. The majority were scattered about, from lounging in the common room, to walking about outside somewhere, to in their rooms just resting.
Izuku found himself in the common area at a space in time where the others were gone, and it was just the two of them. Lucky, or maybe not.
He had been sitting on the couch reading a book when he happened to look over and notice the blond in the vicinity, which stemmed him to finally bring up what had been weighing on his mind for a few days now.
“I mean, I guess that’s what it feels like. Every time I’m doing something or just…around, you find a way to pop in and normally that’s not a problem I guess but...”
“But what?”
Now it was his own turn to be caught off guard, his former friend’s immediate rebuttal almost alarming to him, like he was being challenged. As he took Kacchan in, really observing him closely, he realized that was exactly it.
He was being challenged.
For what reason, he didn’t know, but there seemed to be determination swirling in those intense pools of crimson, and he couldn’t help how he wanted to lose himself in them like he used to. Let himself drift away in the essence that was Bakugo Katsuki and just forget everything and everyone else. The realization of the feelings beginning to sprout inside of him had him shooting quickly to his feet from the edge of the couch he had been perched on, his heart pounding viciously against his ribcage.
No.
It wasn’t possible.
Immediately he thought to call his mother, and then to go to the doctor. No, first the doctor and then his mother. Maybe recovery girl...or even Aizawa...
“Oi, Deku!”
He hadn’t realized that his breathing began to increase, sweat beading along the side of his forehead as he struggled to take a proper breath, the warmth of a large hand on his shoulder almost immediately grounding him back to earth enough that his head wasn’t spinning, and his panicked gaze shifted to land on Kacchan’s face.
“Kacchan, I-”
The unease that had bubbled within him unsettled the acid in his stomach, waves of it sloshing around until it reached up from his gut and into his throat, and before he could even think to cover his mouth or try to prevent the inevitable, he was spilling the contents of his lunch all over the front of Kacchan’s shirt.
Now a different wave of alarm washed over him as he realized what he had just done, and the smell wafted up into his nose, causing him to nearly lurch forward for a round two, but he managed to cover his mouth in time and swallow it back, watery eyes raising to Kacchan’s face, expecting to see complete hatred and disgust from what just transpired.
But that wasn’t what welcomed him, and the way his chest ached at the sight made him wish he had just kept him mouth shut in the first place.
There was concern evidently spread across the boy’s features, a look Izuku wasn’t familiar with. Or maybe he had been familiar with it, but years had passed for him to accurately remember ever seeing Kacchan’s eyes so filled with worry like they were in that moment.
It would be fair to say he wasn’t pleased to suddenly be vomited on, but what had taken priority in his mind was what came just before.
The immediate break down and spiral, how quickly Deku began to fall apart before his eyes, Katsuki wasn’t sure he had ever witnessed such an emotional tailspin from the nerd before, but he knew how it made him feel.
“The fuck is your problem? You ask me a question and then have a panic attack over it? I didn’t even say anything that would upset you.”
His tone was even, and it was more like a casual complaint than him having a genuine problem with what happened, though the smell was beginning to get to him, and he quickly discarded his t-shirt, leaving him bare chested before igniting the garment with a small explosion that all but turned it to ash that scattered along the common room floor.
He’d sweep it up later.
“Come here, idiot.”
He ignored the way his fingers tingled as he took hold of Deku’s wrist, leading him back to the couch and sitting him down. He went off and grabbed a bottle of water and a rag, tossing the rag so it landed on the idiot’s head, and then more calmly passing the water bottle to him.
“I don’t get what your issue is, and I don’t personally care, but if you’re gonna freak over whatever at random times, you better get some help or something. That shit won’t fly in a fight, you’ll end up dead.”
Even in his own head, he sounded concerned, and he found himself wondering, was he?
Was he worried about Deku randomly spiraling in the middle of a fight and getting put down because he couldn’t get his dumb emotions in check?
Well, maybe.
But it wasn’t because he was actually worried, but more so that he would be embarrassed to even know the dumbass at that point, if a panic attack in the middle of a battle would be what brought him down. It would be a major disappointment.
Yet, he couldn’t shake from his mind the way he immediately reached for Deku when it looked like he’d collapse, how naturally it came for him to want to stop the other from falling.
“So, what the hell has you so worked up?”
His eyes stayed set on the smaller teen, watching as he wiped his mouth slowly with the rag, fingers clearly trembling in the wake of this attack, and then he carefully opened the top of the water bottle and brought it to his mouth to take a few sips.
Katsuki watched intently as Deku’s throat moved with each gulp, how his Adams apple bobbed slowly every time he swallowed. When he caught himself staring, he immediately averted his gaze and focused in on his lap instead, ignoring the way the back of his neck suddenly began to burn as if a hot iron was pressing flat against it.
He kept his mouth shut as he waited for Deku to finish drinking so he could state his piece on the situation, finding it oddly more natural than normal for him not to lash out with how long the boy was taking.
He assumed it had to do with witnessing the breakdown, and not wanting to be the cause of another one.
“I felt sick.”
It certainly wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, even though he didn’t know what he wanted to hear, Katsuki knew that wasn’t it.
“What?”
Tone incredulous and gaze matching as he lifted his head to look back at Deku, his eyebrows raised on his forehead in question and growing annoyance.
“That’s it? You’re expecting me to believe you nearly passed out from a panic attack because you felt sick?”
His tone demanding now, he found he didn’t have the patience he thought he did, and he was growing aggravated that it seemed Deku didn’t want to look at him. He kept his eyes down on his lap, his hands fiddling with the cap of the water bottle, screwing and unscrewing it to distract himself.
“That’s what it was Kacchan, really. I got panicked because I suddenly didn’t feel well and didn’t know why.”
“Bullshit!”
His voice had raised before he could get himself in check and finally Deku lifted his head to look at him, emerald eyes wide as the soft shout caught him by surprise.
“You’re a shit liar, Deku. I don’t know what the hell you’ve had going on the last few weeks or whatever, but I’m getting tired of it. All you’ve done is prance around with your head held high like you’re suddenly the best there is, and you haven’t even bothered with me!”
The words rushed from him in such a way that it took a good 30 seconds before his brain made sense of them, and then he realized how it all sounded and he wanted to punch himself in the face for letting something like that come out of his mouth.
Was he a fucking idiot!?
It seriously sounded like he was complaining because Deku wasn’t paying attention to him, but there was just no way in hell that was it. He just worded shit wrong, and now he was gritting his teeth at the new wave of surprise to wash over Deku’s face.
“Kacchan are you upset I hav-”
He would never get to finish that sentence.
“Shut the fuck up. No, whatever you might be thinking right now, no. You’re wrong and this stupid fucking conversation is over.”
The palms of his hands had begun to burn with the need to set off explosions as his anger and embarrassment grew, but he stuffed them deep in his pockets and got to his feet, stomping off to grab a broom without another word before beginning to sweep up the remnants of his infamous skull t-shirt.
“See a shrink or some shit, idiot. If you get in my way during a fight, I’ll kill you myself.”
Their eyes didn’t meet again, and Bakugo shoved the broom back where it belonged and disappeared off to his room where he could endlessly berate and beat himself up for being such a goddamn moron in peace.
Nothing was helping.
Even though the initial panic had settled, and he had now fallen to a state of numbness, he knew something was wrong. Seeing Kacchan apparently worried for him, sticking himself out there to see what was wrong, and then hearing what he swore was the blond admitting he wanted more attention from him, it felt like he might die right there on the spot.
Even if this was all just Kacchan wanting to be friends, even if it meant nothing at all in the way he was letting himself take it, it was enough to destroy him.
Like the daffodils would regrow and multiply so abruptly, they’d burst right through him and in his place would be a beautiful mountain of flowers they could mark as his grave.
When he was left in the common room by himself, staring at the spot where Kacchan’s destroyed shirt once laid to rest, he squeezed the empty water bottle that had been in his lap with such vigor that it eventually ripped in two.
“Mom...”
He whined to himself, hanging his head as he didn’t bother to try stopping the tears that quickly flowed down and stained his freckled, flushed cheeks.
“It isn’t supposed to be this way, I’m not supposed to want him anymore.”
He sobbed gently to himself, covering his mouth to try and quiet the pain as it oozed from every pore of his being. It hurt in a way he didn’t know how to describe, but it felt like how he’d imagine the world ending might feel.
An overwhelming pain that seeped so deeply into his bones, he’d probably feel it even after he was long dead.
After allowing himself the time to break apart, he eventually made his way to the bathroom, wiping his tears and blowing his nose. He made a small effort to wash off the swollen redness around his eyes with some warm water to no avail, before finally giving up and heading back to his room where he was tasked with the depressing job of calling his mother to have her schedule him a doctor’s appointment.
While he dreaded thinking it, he could swear he felt the budding of fresh flowers inside of his lungs.