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The visions from his dream were still replaying in his mind, so vivid in their intensity and emotional shock that he couldn’t just shake it off. He had no more strength than to sit there on his bed, hunched on his knees and panting ragged breaths, sticky clothes clinging to his damp skin and sweat dripping from his chin.
His right hand burned and throbbed with an aching pain, familiar sparks of the light-green colored energy crackling from it. It hurt, more than the usual dull pain of his aching ligaments. He forced all his will to lift his arm up, so that he can examine his hand.
What he saw only added to the confusing turmoil within his own swirling mind.
Dark markings curled itself over his hand and scars, twisting like tendrils embedded into the root of his skin as it bloomed from just below his wrist. It branded him almost like it were a curse, a premonition no doubt related to the events he saw in his dream.
He winced. The familiar energy of One for All had fizzled out as he steadied his breathing, but his hand still stung in the freshly darkened areas. He tested out his fingers, one out at a time, half-relieved they were still mobile and in his control, but another part of him—the part that couldn’t stop coming up with a million questions—was distracting him from being able to think of anything.
Izuku didn’t know what to do. What to think. What to feel.
What could he do?
Talk to somebody? Talk to who?
All Might? No, he can’t do that. One partial glance across his dark room told him that it was still the middle of the night. All Might was surely fast asleep all the way in the staff dormitory.
Then who else? Who else could he possibly talk to about All for One and One for All? No one knew about it except—
Except for Kacchan.
He would be asleep as well, all things considered. But… But, at least he was nearby. Only two floors up and a few doors down the hall. He could go over and ask. Sure, they weren’t on the bestest of terms, but they certainly weren’t like how they were back in middle school. Things had been steadily improving, and Kacchan was the only other person that knew about his secret.
Even if Kacchan didn’t want to talk to him, Izuku still wanted to see him. He didn’t feel comfortable being alone with his own thoughts. Because he could feel the thin fabric of his sanity wearing down by the minute, his buzzing thoughts threatening to overtake his psyche if he so much as lost his focus.
Izuku willed his body to turn, to force his legs from their stiff locked position to step onto the ground. As he made his way off his bed, he could see and feel the damage he had caused in his night terror. His torn-up comforter, black and charred on its ragged edges and similar burnt marks over his favorite All Might sheets. More burn marks on his All Might carpet. His tipped over chair, papers and All Might figurines knocked over onto the ground, posters peeling off his wall.
He would have to clean it up later. But now wasn’t the time. He threw open the door to his room and hurried over to the elevator, thankful it was a straightaway down the hall.
But as he made his way forward, Izuku couldn’t help but feel pressured, from something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was a creeping feeling, as if something or someone was watching him from the shadows, waiting to strike. Perhaps it was his thoughts, his flashbacks to the visions he saw, or from his exhaustion. Either way, all he knew was his aching hand did nothing to help with his increasing paranoia as the elevator doors opened onto the fourth floor.
He walked over to Kacchan’s door and, after a soft apologetic whisper to himself, he knocked on the door.
No response.
Reasonable, of course. It was who-knows-how-late. But it felt like his time was running out. He didn’t even know why, but that’s what it felt like to his frantic mind.
He knocked again, this time louder and more rapid.
Even if Kirishima or Shouji awoke to check the commotion, that would be fine, too. Anybody would work.
Yet, with every beat of silence, he could feel the approaching pressure. Of an unwanted presence wrapping itself slowly around his heated wrist, constricting and tight as it gradually moved itself up the length of his arm.
Izuku just wanted to see somebody else. To not leave him alone with his darkening thoughts.
Please.
He knocked again, though now they sounded like desperate thuds.
“Kacchan,” he choked out. Tears were welling up in his eyes unbidden. He could feel something wrapping its cold touch around his neck, aiming to suffocate him.
Another second. And another. The drowning silence.
“Please,” he whispered.
His breath hitched.
He collapsed onto his knees.
His right arm flared with an intensity worse than he’s felt in a long time.
It wouldn’t go away.
He felt alone. Like the shadows were creeping up his legs and swallowing him whole. All the while, the torturous pain just wouldn’t go away.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
Katsuki groaned, flinging off his covers as he stomped over toward his door, flipping the light on as he did so. “You asshole, do you have any idea what time it is?!” He reached for the doorknob.
It was fucking 2:31 AM in the god-damn morning, who the hell was—
He stopped as he swung his door open. In front of him, collapsed on his knees, was a trembling Deku. Tears were streaming down his freckled face, his breathing unsteady and shaky.
“Kacchan,” he said weakly.
“Deku?” Katsuki said. He furrowed his brows. “What’s wrong with you?”
Deku didn’t reply, but was instead holding his right arm, where Katsuki saw the dark marks curled across his shaking hand.
“Hey, what happened?” Katsuki stooped down, placing a hand atop his slumped shoulder. “Deku? Hey, Deku, don’t pass out on me yet. You woke me up, you’re gonna talk.”
Deku whimpered. “It hurts, Kacchan,” he said.
Katsuki bit his lip. That didn’t tell him jack shit. He looked around the hallway. No one else was around, and there was no sign of damage. “Get your ass in,” he said in a hushed tone. When Deku barely budged, Katsuki sighed and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind them.
He set Deku on his bed, sitting beside him.
“We’re fine now. Did you want to talk?” Katsuki said, eyeing between his marked hand and back up at Deku.
Deku shook his head. “I… can’t,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Not right now. At least.”
Katsuki huffed, then crossed his arms and laid back against the wall.
This wasn’t how he planned to spend the evening after a long day of classes. But… Deku wasn’t like this. Not normally, at least. Something managed to shake him, and whatever that was, was something potentially dangerous. Perhaps even… something related to his quirk.
“Fine,” he said, tilting his head to stare at Deku’s back. “Whenever you’re ready to talk, go ahead and shoot. ‘Til then, you’re safe with me now, okay?”
Deku slowly nodded. “Thank you, Kacchan,” he mumbled, curling his legs up against his chest as he sunk his chin atop his knees.
A position he hadn’t seen since they were children.
Katsuki pursed his lips and sat back up. He placed his hand over Deku’s damp back and gently rubbed small, comforting circles over the tense area. “Everything will be alright, Deku,” he said softly, a line he hadn’t said in over a decade.
Deku made a small noise of agreement, head still unmoving as he continued staring blankly in front of him. But Katsuki could feel his muscles gradually loosening below his touch, the light coming back to his eyes, and the color returning to his freckled cheeks.
Even if it’ll take all night, Katsuki will stay by his side.