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Chapter Text

Kirishima was excited. Why wouldn’t he be? A team-up between fatgum’s agency and the number one hero’s agency with their UA interns. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Not to mention he would be fighting a villain with his best friend; Bakugou.

It was going to be simple. A villain group who wreaked havoc wherever they went. They’d just barely been able to evade capture due to a distracted hero. They all had mediocre quirks, at best. (though the leader’s quirk remained unknown) The agencies only really partook in the fighting in order to train their interns; Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou and Amajiki Tamaki. It shouldn’t have gone this way.

They'd tracked them to an abandoned building in Hokkaido. It was built entirely of moss-covered stone, crumbling and cracking in every place. Moss and vines covered the walls. It was hard to believe someone would voluntarily meet there.

As soon as they got there, Bakugou and Midoriya felt that something was off. Endeavour just narrowed his eyes at them and busted down the door of the villain’s HQ. A rash move, even Kirishima knew that. He probably did it out of spite of Bakugou. Turns out, they’d wised up since they were almost caught last time.

58 more villains recruited. It made a total of 65 villains in their group. The quirks weren’t much better, but strength in numbers. Kirishima had to use his ultimate move; unbreakable, twice already! He managed to defeat 6 villains. Not quite as impressive a number as Bakugou’s 13 and Todoroki’s 10. Those two and Endeavour were the only ones left standing. Just barely though. Kirishima was bloodied and near-unconscious on the ground.

He thought the villains were all defeated. But the woman in front of him told a different story. The leader with the unknown quirk. Before they left, Bakugou had told him about this person in particular. He told him to leave her to the pros. He thought it was weird. Bakugou would normally want to take down all the villains he could, never leaving anything to the pros.

“Unknown quirks are way too dangerous for us. In all the fights we’ve won, we’ve been against people whose quirks we’ve already known, dumbass. Meanwhile, the pros have to deal with unknowns almost every day.” He’d said. Needless to say, he was a bit worried. He tried to move, to get someone’s attention, but was completely immobilized. It was probably a stupid decision to use unbreakable more than once before even half the villains were defeated.

She stood there for a minute, simply smiling. Waiting. She didn’t seem to be using her quirk, if she even had one. But not all emitter quirks were immediately visible.

Luckily for Kirishima, Endeavour came into the room, with Midoriya slung over his arm. Bakugou and Todoroki joined them shortly after, carrying a zero-fat fatgum. The villain seemed unfazed by the appearance of the number one hero. ‘She must have one hell of a quirk!’ Thought Kirishima, still unable to move. But with three conscious heroes, all insanely powerful surrounding her, she didn’t stand a chance.

That is until she pulled out something you rarely saw in times when most of the population had quirks. A gun. Pointed right at Kirishima’s face.

None of the heroes were close enough to her to be able to stop her. He tried with all of his might to harden his skin, but nothing happened. He closed his eyes, bracing for impact. Bracing for death.

No matter what quirk you have, you’re only human, after all.

-----

Stupid fucking villains! Recruiting more weaklings wasn’t going to help them any. Bakugou took down 13 of those morons in record time, fighting back-to-back with Icy hot and Shitty hair.

Those two morons helped him, or whatever. But the second was wasting his stamina using his special move twice trying to save Bakugou. Not that he needed it, of course. Kirishima was just being worried, that’s all.

It seemed like even the pro in charge of Kirishima’s agency, Fatgum or something, was using his quirk too much, and now he looked… muscly? Bakugou assumed it was a bad thing, but he didn’t know enough about this hero. He may admire heroes, but it’s not like he goes and documents every hero in Japan. That’s Deku’s thing.

Even half n’ half seemed exhausted. He always starts off with a huge attack, no matter how many opponents he was facing. Predictable AND stupid. Not a great combination. Kirishima dragged himself to the main room to try and find any more villains. Like he could take them on in his condition!

He wanted to run after him, but Fatgum needed help. Dumbass pro hero, not rationing his power! When he and Todoroki managed to drag him to the main room, Kirishima sat against the wall, almost unconscious. This wasn’t surprising in and of itself. What surprised him (and pissed him off), was that there was a woman standing a couple metres away from them.

He instinctively stepped closer to his best friend. Of course there was a remaining villain, because their luck just HAD to get worse! On the other side of the room, Endeavour prepared himself for a fight. Bakugou followed the pro hero’s suit, leaning in ever so slightly.

And she pulled out a gun. What a fucking great day! At least she chose the worst target possible; Kirishima. Bullets wouldn’t affect someone who could deflect most anything he wanted to.

But then he looked at Kirishima’s fingertips. They looked odd for some reason. Sharper?

Oh, god.

That’s as much as he could harden. He was even lower on stamina than he thought. The gun clicked. No one else had realized the danger. So it came down to a choice. A choice that would come to define UA’s-no- the world’s future. The bang that came from the gun echoed throughout the caved-in building. Blood splattered on the crumbling wall and the matching floor. Damn.

Chapter Text

The smell of iron came immediately after the gunshot. Kirishima had always found it an unpleasant smell. Crimson stained the broken floor. Blood. A shiver went down his spine, leaving him speechless. (Not that he had nearly enough strength to speak anyway.)

He wasn’t afraid of blood, of course. In his career path, you couldn’t afford to be too affected by blood. No, he hated it because it always signified that someone was hurt. He
it when people were hurt.

He knew hurting people came in the job description of hero, and he wanted to be a hero
desperately, but it didn’t mean he liked it. Of course, you wouldn’t exactly be a good hero if you wanted people to hurt.

No matter how bland he thought quirk was, he loved the fact that it was mostly defensive. Blocking attacks, only attacking other people when he thought it was necessary. He’d make a good sidekick that way. Protecting citizens, stopping that iron smell from filling the streets.

The blood stained his hands as he tried, and failed, to put pressure on the wound. The rest of his costume was quickly getting just as stained. But the state of his costume was the
of his worries at the moment. Fortunately, the blood seemed to stop flowing as hard as it was before. But he still tried to focus on anything
the main problem. Not that it was too hard, since his vision was so blurred. He couldn’t afford to fall unconscious, though.

Focusing on something else… blood, pain, bullet, gun, death, crimson… crimson! Crimson riot. His favourite colour, solely because of his idol’s hero name. The manliest man! He didn’t like crimson all that much at that moment. Great, now whatever happy thing he’d try to distract himself with would be associated with this moment.

‘Guess I’ll have to devote all my attention to this.’ He thought, reluctantly stopping his usual repression routine. He tried to see a little better, squinting. His vision didn’t seem to be improving all that much. Just enough so that he could see the pro and aspiring heroes surrounding the gruesome scene.

They weren’t moving. Kirishima was almost disappointed. Not in the students, of course, but in Endeavour. He was a professional. His job was to react in a crisis, yet he wasn’t reacting in this crisis! They were still shocked at the turn of events.

Midoriya was the first to respond. Odd, considering that he’d broken seven fingers along with being beaten to a pulp by one of the stronger foes and Kirishima thought for sure that he was unconscious like almost everyone else there.

He used full cowling, kicking the previously stoical woman with the gun off balance. She aimed a couple shots at him, which he promptly dodged. Kirishima’d never seen the nervous wreck that was Midoriya so enraged. A few things (blackwhip, he thought he called them) came out of Midoriya’s broken fingers.

Normally, they were significantly smaller than they were at that moment. Now they looked like they were enveloping his body. The woman fell to the ground in fear. Blackwhip seemed to swallow her whole. Midoriya sobbed loudly. Whether it was from physical pain or emotional anguish, Kirishima couldn’t tell. He didn’t know which one would be worse, honestly.

It was probably a mix of both. His quirk seemed to injure him whenever he used it, and he always gets emotional when people he loves get hurt. Both of those bases were covered in a matter of seconds. Especially while using 100% of an ability he barely familiarized himself with.

Speaking of which, even though the one with the gun was already engulfed in blackwhip, but Midoriya’s quirk showed no signs of deactivating. If this went on for any longer, it’d probably strangle her to death. Kirishima thought for a moment he was trying to kill her, but it was apparent once he squinted harder that he was trying to get blackwhip back in his body.

Todoroki decided that it was a good time to move. He trapped Midoriya in his ice. It didn’t stop his quirk from attacking, but it effectively immobilized him. Not that it made much a difference. But it did allow Endeavour to knock him out with a swift punch to the face. Todoroki looked at him aghast, but as blackwhip faded, he understood it was necessary. He thought it would be harder for him to hit a child, though.

Todoroki rushed over to Kirishima, his normally indifferent-looking face turned desperate. Kirishima could no longer focus, his mind slipping into darkness. All they could hope was that he could help.

---

That idiot was too heroic for his own good. Couldn’t resist spending all his power, could he? Had to run into danger in order to find villains with no regard for the fact that he was running on empty.

Honestly, it was his fault he got a gun pulled on him when he was inevitably immobilized and unable to use his quirk! Yet, Katsuki couldn’t help feeling at least a little guilty.

It was definitely stupid, he knew he didn’t do anything wrong. He even went through the trouble of warning him about the leader’s unknown ability. He prepared him in every way possible, didn’t he?

Pesky thing, empathy. He knew he shouldn’t have developed it. It’s caused nothing but trouble for him.

Even though he’d deny it for all eternity, he’d never been as scared as when she pulled out that stupid pistol in Kirishima’s face. That wouldn’t have affected him before he got empathy. Hell, if that was in his face he wouldn’t be half as scared. Caring about someone else’s safety more than his own? Definitely new.

He didn’t think at that moment. He remembered Deku and All Might yap about something like that when he asked All Might why he chose Deku to be his successor. His body moved without thinking. That idea was foreign to Katsuki. He’d always think through everything, always planning every possible outcome.

But right then, for once in his life he could say he understood Deku. Understood the biological need to be heroic, to save a life.

Crimson splatter on the wall.

He still hadn’t really processed his movements, so you could imagine his surprise at the bullet hole in his chest. He would’ve cried out in pain if he wasn’t in shock. He fell unconscious, right onto his friend’s lap. About a minute later, Kirishima tried weakly to stop the blood. Thankfully it did. The blood would have to be squeezed out of him.

Unfortunately, that was because at that very moment; 3:14pm, Tuesday the thirteenth, Bakugou Katsuki died.

Chapter Text

It seemed like everything was determined to go wrong for them. Bakugou gets shot, and then Midoriya uses blackwhip when Endeavour has hardly even taught him to use more than 15%, close to choking the woman with the gun to death.

Not that he would’ve mourned her or blamed Midoriya, but he’d rather he avoided having a murder on his conscience. Midoriya already felt guilty about enough without that piled on as well.

He finally moved after an entire minute of shock. Freezing Midoriya wasn’t how he wanted to spend his time, but it was necessary. Blackwhip was out of control.

The ice trapped him successfully, at least. It didn’t do much to hold back the raging quirk that seemed to be out for the woman’s blood, though. At least they could put out the base of the flames by stopping the sobbing boy in “control” of the bloodthirsty quirk.

It was no surprise to Shouto that Endeavour didn’t have qualms with knocking a wailing child unconscious by smacking them in the face, but he was
that it was someone outside his family. But to be frank, the state of Midoriya’s face was the least of Shouto’s problems.

He rushed over to the unconscious and near-unconscious bloodied bodies by the dangerously crumbling walls. He was desperate for them to be okay. God, he had never been so desperate for something before.

The stench of iron was near-enough to make just about anyone vomit, but he had a much stronger resistance to blood than most. That happens after watching your brother be burnt alive and turned to nothing but ash.

Kirishima fell asleep almost immediately after Shouto reached them. The bleeding patterns suggested that there was a hell of a lot of blood, but now it was barely coming out. Shouto wasn’t a doctor, so all he could really do was hope that was a good thing.

He took Bakugou’s pulse, expecting it to be weak or slow. He didn’t feel anything. He frantically felt around his wrist, neck and chest for any sign of a heartbeat, but nothing. Filled with blind panic, Shouto called upon his father for help. Endeavour put two fingers on the left side of Bakugou’s neck. He simply shook his head.

“D-dead?” He wasn’t really looking for an answer. Unless that answer was no, which Shouto knew it wasn’t.

It felt like he was underwater. All the words above water were muffled, irrelevant, really. He couldn’t breathe, his lungs burning. He wanted to go up to the surface, but there was a crushing weight keeping him down. His thoughts faded to a static. It would have been almost pleasant if it wasn’t for the fact that he couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t know how much time passed, if it passed at all. If there were people around him, he couldn’t see or hear them. Shouto desperately gasped for air, he kept thinking he’d pass out, but he never did. The adrenaline coursing through him made sure of that. He couldn’t feel anything except pain.

The pain stopped. He blacked out.

---

Shouto opened his eyes, and the lights blinded him. Why were there lights in an abandoned building?

“Ca...d... Tod…safe.” Ugh, why did his head hurt so much? The lights became a little less overwhelming, and he could hear properly again.

He was in… recovery girl’s office? How did he get there so fast. “Sorry, why am I here? Did I black out or something?” She looked down at him, almost pitying. He hated being pitied almost as much as Bakugou. Not quite as extreme, though.

His head felt so foggy.

“You did. On the ride from the villain’s hideout to here. You were concussed during the villain fight.” He frowned a little.

“The ride over? I don’t remember it. Is that because of the concussion?” She hesitated. It was odd, he’d never seen her like this. She was always too busy lecturing them to show any sort of sympathy.

“You had an awful panic attack. Aizawa said you were hysterical when he was bringing you to me.” He was confused. He hadn’t had a panic attack since watching his brother died. Nothing he could think of would send him spiralling like that.

“What happened to cause that?” He said, voicing his concerns in his usual disinterested tone. She didn’t speak. He looked at the beds next to him. Kirishima and Amajiki laid there, still unconscious and bloodied. “
?”

“I wasn’t there, but I have a pretty good idea of what started it…” She trailed off, hesitating once more. He glared at her. Honestly, he didn’t know if he wanted to find out. But, even he couldn’t help being curious. She sighed.

“When your friend Bakugou Katsuki-” He cut her off.
“I’d hardly call him a friend.” He said plainly. It wasn’t true, they’d gotten pretty close, especially during the internships, but Bakugou would never let him admit it.

“Your classmate, then. When his heart stopped.” Shouto was shocked. Debatably the strongest student in the class almost died?

“What happened? Is he okay? Shouldn’t he be in here? Is he in the hospital?” He asked, worry seeping into his voice. The school nurse actually teared up. He’d never seen her anything other than angry before.

“His heart stopped, and it stayed stopped. The funeral ceremony will be in three days. Bakugou Katsuki is dead.”

Chapter Text

Everything felt numb. Recovery girl and the teachers hadn’t told the rest of the class yet, and Shouto didn’t feel like telling anyone. He didn’t feel much of anything, really. He just laid immobilized in his bed, looking almost catatonic.

His classmates tried to get him to open up, but he hadn’t said a word since recovery girl broke the news. He wouldn’t even know what to say if he did. “Hey guys, want to hear something that’ll ruin your lives?”

They kept asking what happened to the students part of the villain raid. The media hadn’t caught wind of it quite yet, but class 1-A was informed since four of their classmates were injured in it.

Aizawa gathered everyone together for a class meeting. Only Shouto had any clue what it was about; even Aizawa and All Might. The only other people who knew about Bakugou’s death was the nurses and doctors at the hospital he was taken to, his parents which still hadn’t responded and principal Nedzu. He was the one delivering the message to them, he guessed.

Nedzu loved making an entrance, popping out of Aizawa’s scarf, appearing in doorways, so everyone was surprised when he simply walked in the common area. Everyone except Shouto.

He droned on for a minute, following his usual pattern, except much more morbid. Even Aizawa was visibly nervous. Shouto wasn’t really paying attention. Yaoyorozu and Kaminari were barely able to pull him out of his bed to their emergency meeting, and he already knew what was coming.

The funeral was tomorrow. Would anyone bother to try and pull him there? Would they even get out of their beds themselves? Probably not.

He noticed Nedzu stopped talking. It was weird, since the class didn’t seem phased at all. He was hesitating. For the first time in two days, Shouto felt something. Nedzu was questioning whether he should even tell the class. Shouto was enraged.

“Tell them.” He said menacingly. The entire class’s attention turned to him. None of them had ever heard Shouto speak with anything other than politeness. He moved, properly sitting up, glaring at Nedzu. "Tell them or I’ll do it." Nedzu still didn’t continue and Shouto had never been one to bluff.

“He’s dead. Bakugou… is dead.” He had never heard his class so quiet before. Normally, he’d revel in it, but now he wanted them to say something, anything! But silence was the only answer they gave.

They had different reactions, but they mostly fell into a few categories. The silent ones; probably still processing it. The deniers; laughing it off, saying things like “good one Todoroki”, or “Yeah right, what’s the real news?”. And the instant grievers; no shock or denial, jumping straight to the later stages of grief. They usually get over the loss quickly. Those were rare.

He’d never seen Aizawa looking so pissed before. He was obviously taken by surprise, just as much as the students. “You didn’t think to tell the teachers beforehand? How long have you known, Nedzu?”

The principal looked entirely taken by surprise by Aizawa’s tone. While the other teachers weren’t shy about sharing their feelings on something, Aizawa was always so composed, Nedzu never had to worry about his temper before. He’d built up an immunity to negative feelings from most of the staff and the press, but he hadn’t actually gotten anything other than dispassion and unbiased feedback from 1-A’s homeroom teacher.

“We’ve known for about 36 hours-” that’s how much time had passed, huh? Shouto had been in such a state in detachment he’d forgotten to keep track.

“36 HOURS?” Aizawa was trembling with fury. “WERE YOU JUST GOING TO LEAVE US IN THE DARK? WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF TODOROKI DIDN’T SPEAK UP?” Nedzu looked ashamed.

“I’m ashamed to say it, but I wanted a few more moments; as many as I could spare. The school is bound to close if they hear we’ve got a dead student, especially since he’s the one who got kidnapped by the league of villains!” Shouto hadn’t even considered that. He certainly was now, though.

That gave Aizawa a pause in his blind rage. “The ceremony will be held tomorrow. His parents informed us that they… won’t be coming. I’m sorry, Eraser.” And he walked away with his tail in between his legs. Literally.

---

Shouta was furious. Of course, he felt bad for Nedzu, but it was either anger or despair, and he’d choose anger any day.

He looked around at his students. The students in denial were bound to be in denial for a while, no matter how intense the argument. But the others...

Looked distraught, in a way he’d never seen them before. Not when their classmate was kidnapped, or when Midoriya was in a coma, or the countless times they faced villain at only 15-16 years old. Not necessarily crying, though Ojiro and (probably) Hagakure were.

They just had that look on their faces like they just found out that their existence was pointless and it was coming to an end. But worse. Like they got beaten to a pulp beforehand. He saw Hizashi with the same exact face when he told him that Oboro had been killed in that villain attack.

It almost made him break down right then and there. Almost.

He felt like throwing up. Or crying. Preferably both. But he wouldn’t even do that in the safety of his own home, much less in front of his tormented and traumatized students. Instead, he turned on his parenting mode.

It wasn’t something that came out often in front of the class, but it often happened with his adoptive children; Shinsou and Eri. He comforted the hell out of his students (which were basically his unofficial children at this point) with blankets, tea, kind words and warm food, for those who could stomach it. He had no idea what to do with Todoroki, though.

He just sat there. His classmates reported his depressive state, but he thought they were overexaggerating, like usual. He was the one to drive him to the school while he was having his panic attack. He had blacked out right after Aizawa managed to calm him down enough. He had asked recovery girl to tell him what caused it after she assessed the scene.

She hadn’t answered. Now he knew why. It was because the kid had watched while his friend died. He had his work cut out for him.

How could he comfort his student when he himself was on the verge of tears?

Chapter Text

It was raining. How fitting. It always seemed to be raining on days like these. You know, the gloomy ones.

Shouta had always loved the rain, actually. Misery incarnate was his forte, after all. He’d even find abandoned cats in the rain to take home every so often. But today he didn’t appreciate the rain. He wasn’t really appreciating anything that day.

Funerals were kind of the worst. He never thought they were rational. Saying goodbye to a corpse did nothing but bring pain for those who were grieving.

He hadn’t let any emotion seep out of him for over a day, no matter how much Hizashi tried to coax it out of him, but seeing his student’s dead flesh bag was sure to break him.

He considered not coming at all, but he had to in order to support his students. Shouta had tried his best to cheer them up, but it would take much more time than that. Grief was the only excuse he would allow for irrationality.

Kirishima and Midoriya were still in the recovery girl’s room. Their injuries were much too severe to let them out after only 3 days. They had no idea what happened to Bakugou. Shouta was fully prepared to chew her out for not telling them, but he had to admit it was necessary.

Those two were the closest to Bakugou and the most emotional. Not a great combination, especially with their injuries and tendencies to blame themselves for things that weren’t their faults.

Everyone came dressed in black, like any ordinary funeral. Everyone except Todoroki. He was barely able to drag him out of his bed, so he was still in his lounge wear. He had just laid around, too despondent to even move.

His parents didn’t plan the funeral or even bother to show up, so they just had to follow his wishes on his last will and testament. (It was slightly disturbing that someone his age already had one) And they weren’t informed of what the funeral would be like.

It was an open casket.

Why did it have to be an open casket? It was the worst option for a funeral in his opinion. Four students threw up and everyone in denial was snapped right out of it. He didn’t decompose at all, he was at least thankful for that.

But god, seeing his usually intense eyes looking so lifeless was heart wrenching.

Kaminari and Mina were some of the students who didn’t accept Bakugou’s death, so needless to say they were traumatized. Mina’s knees gave out and Sero had to keep her from falling. Kaminari and Jirou were holding onto each other for support. She looked close to passing out.

Everyone was sobbing and close to collapsing. Losing the most spirited classmate who was surprisingly close with them will do that.

Yaoyorozu looked on the verge of a breakdown, Iida was barely keeping it together, and even the so-called ‘extras’ were more upset than he’d ever seen them.

Then Shouta spotted all might at the back of the group. He’d always been closer to Midoriya than Bakugou, and he was always so composed, so Shouta was taken by surprise when he saw the man looking completely broken.

That, combined with looking back at Bakugou’s lifeless body finally broke the emotional dam Shouta had been building.

For the first time in his adult life, Shouta wept.

And then someone started shouting. What a perfect fucking day.

---

No one had told Izuku anything.

He saw his childhood friend and closest rival get shot and everyone refused to give him any information. Even Recovery girl seemed off. Kirishima didn’t seem to remember anything. Todoroki wasn’t the only one who got a head injury, but Kirishima’s was more severe.

Recovery girl was doing everything short of pinning him to the hospital bed to get him to stay put.

Only one of his classmates came to visit him once he woke up. Honestly, he expected more people. Even after a single broken bone he would have at least 7 visitors. He was even more surprised when Todoroki didn’t come see him.

From the very limited information he was given, Todoroki hadn’t been seeing anyone lately. He knew he had a head injury, but it was very unlike him to not visit.

He decided to sneak out while Recovery girl was with another patient. Kirishima was still resting, so he decided he would tell him after he found something out.

It seemed like the class was all heading to the same place the next day. They all looked so… defeated. The ones who weren’t were laughing a little too much.

He passed on the information to Kirishima, saying he’d follow them tomorrow. He wasn’t able to convince him not to come. He was too determined for his own good. He could tell Kirishima was even more worried about Bakugou than he was.

Everyone except Todoroki was dressed in black for some reason. They followed them quietly, trailing a good distance behind them. Midoriya decided to peek his head out when he heard his classmates crying.

Turns out, it wasn’t just his classmates. Even All Might was having a bit of an emotional breakdown. What the hell could’ve happened?

Kirishima looked like he had just about enough of it. He leapt out from behind the pillars Izuku and Kirishima hid behind.

“Hey, what the hell’s going on here?” Aizawa turned around to look at them, obviously startled. And he was… crying?

Izuku was shocked. They’d been in so many horrible situations, and he’d never seen Aizawa come anywhere close to cracking. What could have possibly happened that made the entire class so upset.

There was a grave. A grave that read the name of his best friend. And Izuku exploded with emotion.

Chapter Text

Ever since he woke up, Eijirou was being kept in the dark.

It started with simple things like Recovery girl not allowing visitors, and if they tried to come in, she would whisper something to them in the halls. It usually ended with tears. A lot of them.

Aizawa would sometimes show up to talk to Kirishima, but recovery girl would hold him back. Apparently, he’d chew her out about something. They’d talk, and suddenly he walked away looking guilty.

Then it kept getting bigger. She refused to tell him the specifics of how he hurt his head, or what happened to his friend. Um- friends. He meant friend/s/. He didn’t just care about Bakugou’s wellbeing, of course. Midoriya and Amajiki also got injured, and he was worried about them too.
All he knew about his own injuries was that he overused his quirk and got a moderately severe concussion. The injuries on the others were even more minimal, and they didn’t say anything at all about Bakugou.

Eijirou was shocked when Midoriya woke up from his day-long coma. It wasn’t abnormal of course, his injuries weren’t too severe, just an improper use of a quirk. What shocked him was that as soon as he woke up, he started screaming the nickname he gave for Bakugou. He activated blackwhip unintentionally, until Aizawa had to intervene with his erasure power.

As frightening as that was, he was grateful for Midoriya coming back to consciousness. He was the only one willing to give any useful information at all. He was being left in the dark too, though.

Midoriya told him that he knew what happened to Bakugou. It was the best news he’d heard since the team up.

Until it wasn’t. According to Midoriya, Bakugou had gotten shot. He’d gotten shot while protecting Eijirou.

Needless to say, he was guilty as hell. It was a recurring habit with him; feeling guilty. But this time, it was for a perfectly understandable reason. In his opinion, anyway.

He didn’t know if he could do anything in that situation, with the concussion and all, but he assumed there must’ve been something he could’ve done differently. Midoriya tried to reassure him it was Bakugou’s choice, and he had nothing to do with it, but Kirishima was still unhealthily remorseful, though.

He was sure Bakugou would be okay. He was the most manly guy he’d ever met; he couldn’t be killed off that easily. He just assumed they were being stingy with information as to not worry them. They were both injured after all.

But he got worried when even after Recovery girl allowed visitors, only Uraraka came. Even for simple injuries, the entire dekusquad plus the emosquad (Jirou, Shouji, Tokoyami, and recently added Yaoyorozu) would come to see him. Something was wrong. He and Midoriya tried to brainstorm whenever the school nurse turned her back to them.

He and Midoriya had bonded quite a bit over their worry about their mutual friend. But Midoriya seemed to be even more worried about Bakugou than he was, even going as far as to spy on his classmates for any sort of update. He wanted to come, but he could barely even stand up without the surrounding room spinning.

He came back, telling Eijirou something about a class gathering? Maybe training or some sort of meeting?

Anyway, the next day he insisted he was well enough to go follow his classmates with Midoriya. Eijirou could be just as stubborn as Bakugou when he had his mind set on something.

Midoriya insisted they hide behind these stupid pillars. He couldn’t see anything from there! He had enough of it when he heard his classmates sounding obviously sad. He leapt out from behind their hiding place, leaving Midoriya looking absolutely peeved.

“What the hell’s going on?” He said, the anger from being left out bubbling up. Midoriya’s curiosity got the best of him, as he took the excuse to check out the scene before them.

They were at a burial.

Aizawa, All Might and the entirety of the UA staff and 1-A students were there. Everyone except him, Midoriya and Bakugou. He tried to deny the obvious, convincing himself it wasn’t true.

‘They would’ve told us if something had happened to him! Maybe it isn’t even a funeral. Yeah, that must be it.’

He even tried to reject the idea of his friend’s death when he saw Mr. Aizawa, their stoical, composed teacher cry.

But he could no longer refute in when Midoriya started screaming and wailing in agony, screaming his friend’s name. Everyone’s focus was directed at Eijirou ad Midoriya. Aizawa had the foresight to erase his quirk, so he wouldn’t destroy anything. It would probably be difficult to keep himself from blinking after crying.

Eijirou didn’t even know how to react.

Until he saw them.

---

This sucked. Funerals really brought the mood down. Even Aizawa and Recovery girl were upset.

They could honestly say they weren’t expecting Kirishima and Deku to pop up the way they did.

The screaming on Deku’s part was a bit much. Kirishima would’ve been more likely to shout. But he just kind of stood there all blank-looking.

Everyone started trying to calm Deku down, but to no avail. It was their fault for not telling the two stooges (the third being Kaminari) that Katsuki had died. It was KIND of an important detail!

After Recovery girl told everyone not to give them information about Katsuki’s death, they seemed to immediately unanimously agree. (Except for Aizawa, but he was swayed eventually. Even the most rational of the bunch was empathizing. Stupid.)

It was only natural that the most emotional students would react this way. They wanted to yell at those idiots, all of them, but it’s not like they had much of a choice.

They had no way of intervening and didn’t feel much like staying in that gloomy atmosphere. But then from across the courtyard, Kirishima made eye contact with them. It was proven he could see ‘em after they moved around a little.

It seemed impossible. It WAS impossible. After all, Katsuki was supposed to be a ghost.

Chapter Text

To say Eijirou was shocked would be a gross understatement. His friend was standing right in front of him at his own grave. That just isn’t normal, okay?

He tried to take in the situation. He was trying to avoid seeing the name on the grave, and still hadn’t read it. His suspicions were only partially confirmed by Midoriya’s screaming, so maybe he didn’t need to deny anything at all.

Eijirou took a second look at the name on the gravestone. It read ‘Bakugou Katsuki.’ But Bakugou remained in his sight, locking eyes with him intensely. He even started moving around a bit, but no one else seemed to acknowledge him.

He took a closer look at the gravestone, walking blankly toward it. Maybe it was another Bakugou Katsuki?

Sure, not the most common of names, and no one in 1-A knew another Bakugou Katsuki, so he wasn’t sure why everyone would show up and get so upset, but it was the only reasonable explanation.

He looked at the other information listed. He was certain it was Bakugou. The information was much too specific to be anyone else. Eijirou looked back at his friend, who seemed very much alive by the way, and he seemed normal, if not a bit surprised.

The guy in front of him was definitely Bakugou, there was no mistaking it.

Since there was no longer any reason in this scenario, he decided on an unreasonable explanation.

Supposedly, Eijirou had been staring at him for seven minutes, and his classmates were getting worried.

Midnight had to knock out Midoriya with somnambulist after he tried to attack someone. He’d be forced into grief counselling once he returned to consciousness. Not that UA would be around long enough to give that to him.

I mean, after two attacks from the league of villains, an attack on them from stain that was just barely resolved by Endeavour, that attack on overhaul with the UA interns, a kidnapped student, and now that very same student was dead? Come on, even UA couldn’t stand up against the backlash that was sure to come from the media.

Honestly though, that was the least of Eijirou’s problems right now.

He looked around at his classmates that couldn’t bring themselves to leave the funeral yet. Either out of respect, the fact that they were near collapsing, or the ones supporting said people.

The Bakusquad (which recently added Jirou), Tokoyami, Shouji, Yaoyorozu and surprisingly Todoroki were the remaining people there. All Might probably would’ve stayed if it wasn’t Midoriya that crashed the funeral.

Todoroki didn’t seem like he even knew what was going on, which was really weird considering he almost always knew what was happening when it came to Midoriya and his wellbeing.

“Is there something going on between Midoriya and Todoroki?” He muttered, not loud enough for the others to hear, since they were a good distance away. It was a good thing, since it was totally inappropriate to think about that at a time like then.

“No duh, Shitty Hair, they’re totally obvious.” Eijirou jumped back, startled. That was definitely Bakugou’s voice, even if it was less angry-sounding than usual. Probably disinterested in ‘Stupid Deku’s’ love life.

He seemed alarmed at Eijirou’s sudden movement. He quickly regained his composure, as always.

“You can really see and hear me, huh?” Eijirou had never learned the subtle tones Bakugou had in voice, but he didn’t sound angry, or even pretending to be angry. Almost… relieved?

“What do you mean, why wouldn’t I?”

He played dumb. He had to if he wanted answers. If he had a theory and it turned out to be wrong, Bakugou wouldn’t tell him the real theory until Eijirou figured it out himself. If he played dumb on the other hand, he’d give him more information until he could figure it out without aid. Bakubro was actually a wonderful tutor in that way.

He may have not figured out what his tones meant, but he was an expert in the art of deciphering Bakugou’s intentions.

Not in a weird way or anything! He just hung around Bakugou a lot, and he really lo- LIKED HIM.

Bakugou sighed a little. “Because I’m dead.” he said, pointing to the grave. Eijirou rolled his eyes. He wasn’t quite dumb enough to not know that.

“It’s a prank, right? An awful one, though. You’re right here, so you obviously can’t be dead.” He said, matter-of-factly. He was pretty damn sure it wasn’t a prank. Even if they decided that something this cruel was funny, the teachers wouldn’t sign off on it. Not to mention, no one in the class was that good an actor that they could cry on cue like that, much less all of them.

Bakugou turned away for a minute, which seemed pretty random to him.

“It isn’t a prank. I wish it was.” He stated plainly, still looking away from Eijirou. He didn’t continue for a while. Was he okay?

“What is this supposed to be if not a prank?” Bakugou looked back at their other classmates, before leading him away from them.

They were in a hallway Eijirou didn’t quite remember seeing. It was a big school, after all, and they went out an obscure exit. It was probably near general studies or support course classes.

Bakugou sucked in a little breath. Eijirou prepared himself for a completely batshit, unreasonable explanation as to why his best friend was at his burial.

“I’m a ghost.”

He wasn’t expecting that one.

---

That idiot had been staring at him for almost seven whole minutes. The teachers that were supposed to be carrying Deku to the nurse’s room after being knocked out for attempting to attack Nedzu and Recovery girl.

They were snapping their fingers near his face, trying to draw his attention. It was a completely disrespectful thing to do at a funeral. Not that Katsuki was a master of etiquette, but come on!

At least it was just Cement-square teacher, construction worker guy, and Ectoplasm. He didn’t really care about them.

They cleared out eventually, leaving only the idiots Katsuki was in charge of, Ponytail, Gross-but-cool emo and bird-brain. And Half n’ half, sulking in the corner like he’d been doing for the past two or three days.

Finally, Kirishima snapped out of his weird, trance-like state, where he squinted at Katsuki’s grave, instead looking at his classmates. With nothing better to do (yes that was the only reason) he got closer to Kirishima.

“Is there something going on between Midoriya and Todoroki?” He muttered.

...Okay, not where he expected that to go. But was he really that oblivious? The girls and Katsuki had already picked out a ship name for the two of them.

“No duh, Shitty Hair, they’re totally obvious.” He said, trying hard to sound disinterested. He liked shipping people, okay?! Fuck you!

Kirishima leapt back in surprise. That meant…

“You can really see and hear me, huh?” Kirishima was probably startled because he was too spaced out to notice him come over, and got spooked (hah, ghost pun) when Katsuki started talking.

He’d never admit it, but he was relieved. Kirishima was making a confused face. It was very obviously fake. Was he mocking him or something?

“What do you mean, why wouldn’t I?” Katsuki was NOT buying this ‘playing dumb’ thing he was doing. He could read Kirishima like a fucking book. Not that he cared about him or anything, he just wore his heart on his sleeve. He decided to play along, since he didn’t know why he was playing dumb.

“Because I’m dead.” He declared condescendingly, unable to hold back an annoyed sigh. Kirishima had the audacity to roll his eyes. Not playing THAT dumb, huh?

“It’s a prank right? An awful one, though. You’re right here, so you obviously can’t be dead.” He stated.

Kirishima was obviously bullshitting him, but he seemed genuine in the fact that he believed Katsuki was still alive. Of course, he wasn’t. He had to turn away from him. What would Kirishima do if he found out his friend (yes, they were friends, he just wouldn’t admit it aloud.) was actually dead?

“It isn’t a prank.” He said, stating the obvious. “I wish it wasn’t.”

He didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. He was glad he was still turned away from Kirishima, since his face flushed a brilliant red. He hated sharing his emotions like that. Of course, not wanting to be dead was kind of obvious, but saying it like that, sounding so (ugh) vulnerable was a definite NO.

“What is it supposed to be if not a prank?” He was definitely confused about that, at least.

Katsuki looked around at the students who still lingered. Shouji and Tokoyami were looking all weirdly at Shitty Hair. Right, he was talking to someone no one else could see. He’d end up looking crazy.

He led Kirishima to a hallway where no one would see him. Katsuki was vaguely aware of it, since he’d gone through there before fighting Deku in the area outside there after the provisional licensing exam. It seemed like a waste of valuable space to put Katsuki’s grave in a training area, though.

Kirishima looked up at him expectantly, tensing a little. Katsuki sucked in a short breath.

“I’m a ghost.”

He didn’t expect Kirishima to believe him, but wasn’t hysterically laughing a little much?

Chapter Text

Eijirou started laughing. I mean, ghost? Come on, that was ridiculous.

“No man, seriously, what’s going on?” He managed to get out between short gasps of air. Bakugou looked extremely miffed.

“I’m not kidding idiot! I’m actually a ghost!” He shouted. Eijirou laughed even more loudly, and Bakugou became even more angry than before, which in turn made Eijirou laugh harder, and so on. An endless cycle.

A fuming Bakugou decided to put an end to it. By walking through Eijirou. Literally THROUGH HIM. He let out an involuntary shudder. It was fucking cold. More importantly, he wasn’t lying.

Which meant he was telling the TRUTH. WHICH MEANT HIS BEST FRIEND WAS AN ACTUAL FUCKING GHOST!

Eijirou meant to say something, but all that came out was a squeal, high enough that it was inaudible to the average human being. Bakugou was above average in everything but hearing, so at least he couldn’t hear that abomination of a noise. Instead, he just saw Eijirou open and close his mouth like an idiot.

Bakugou rolled his eyes more intensely than thought possible. But, then again, he never did anything half way.

“I don’t know what caused it, there are no other ghosts I’m aware of, you're the only one who can see me, and I’ve been a ghost for three days.” He paused for a moment, probably to let Eijirou absorb the information he was throwing at him. He had no idea why he was telling him this.

“Any questions?” Uh, yeah, just a few. No words come out again. No squeal, at the very least. As harsh as his tone was, he seemed sincere.

“Uh… are you in pain at all?” He seemed a bit taken aback. Like no one had ever asked him that before. Probably because he was so amazing he was never in much pain!

“I- I don’t think so?” He said, with the same puzzled expression. That answer didn’t make much sense. “I have a ridiculously high pain tolerance ‘cause I’m in pain almost all the time, so I’m not sure. I’m definitely uncomfortable, though.”

“You’re always in pain?” Bakugou covered his mouth. He tended to be overly-talkative while startled or confused. He had a lot of weird tics like that. “Why?” Bakugou looked deep in thought.

As far as Eijirou knew, he didn’t have chronic pain. (it’d be hard to be a hero if he had)

“I… my quirk hurts my palms and ears, and it dries the sweat from my skin so it’s unhealthily cracked, to the point where it’s bloody.” He was lying. Eijirou knew it. He thought quick on his feet, but he had very obvious tics while he was telling a lie. Obvious to him, at least. He’d always mutter after lying, he’d speak less angrily, and he’d subtly bite his lip.

Not that Eijirou made a conscious effort to look at his lips or anything! He just… hung around him a lot.

Why would he lie about that though? He knew Bakugou had a thing about not showing any weakness, but this seemed important. He was starting to get a bit worried about his friend.

“Bro… are you sure you’re okay?” He said, worry seeping into his voice. Bakugou just looked away. He didn’t expect him to say anything, but he never failed to surprise him.

“I’m a lot better now that I know you can see me, even if we don’t know the reason. You don’t know the reason… do you?” His heart couldn’t handle that answer, even if he just said it to distract Eijirou from the real question.

“Uh- I… I have no idea- um” He decided to finish the sentence there, in fear of stuttering. That casual flirty comment caught him off guard. He was so brave…

Bakugou sighed a little, a bit disappointed looking “C-come to think of it, could I not see you earlier?” He turned back around to face him, looking even more flushed than Eijirou probably was.

“WHAT THE HELL DOES IT MATTER? I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT, GOT IT?!” Eijirou let out a nervous laugh. Bakugou had been so calm this whole time, he’d forgotten how angry his friend could be. Well, he acted that way, anyway. He let out a small ‘got it’ while Bakugou ranted angrily.

Eijirou worked his magic on Bakugou to settle him down. Those two always followed a routine. Whenever he would ask a question that angered Blasty, he’d calm him down, and without even repeating himself, he’d answer. (Unless it was way too personal or it was someone else’s secret; like whatever All Might’s deal with Midoriya was.)

He decided to answer this time as well. “Truth is, I was pretty… um, pissed when I figured out no one could see me.” He always used ‘pissed’ instead of talking about his actual feelings.

“And I didn’t want to go around wasting my time just to find out you couldn’t see me either. It’s… whatever.” Eijirou cried manly tears.

“You didn’t want to see me because you were afraid I wouldn’t see you either? That’s so sad!” What a great friend.

---

Katsuki talked to the idiot for the next fifteen minutes or so, catching him up on what he’d seen.

Icyhot had been moping around since he woke up, not much fun to watch. Neither was anyone else, really.

Turns out, when he and Deku and Shitty Hair aren’t around, there’s no one left to boost morale except the self-proclaimed ‘Bakusquad’. When two of their friends were hospitalized after a villain hideout raid gone wrong, they were just as upset as everyone else, maybe even more so.

Tentacle-dude regained consciousness right after half n’ half. Katsuki only knew him because he was part of the work studies with Kirishima.

He asked Recovery girl about Kirishima, of course, like any good hero would do, but after she didn’t tell him anything, he just muttered and walked off, looking at the ground. He looked super pathetic. He absently wondered how that loser managed to be roped in with the absolute ball of sunshine that was Kirishima.

Fatgum was still recuperating in his agency, but he had called the staff a couple of times asking about his interns. Of course, he wasn’t given a real response. UA was still trying to figure out a way to maintain its reputation at the time.

As soon as Katsuki heard Kirishima was awake, he stayed away from the nurse’s at all costs.

He wishes he’d stuck around there. It would’ve been better there than watching his classmates in absolute despair after Nedzu told them he’d died.

He now understood why some people’s worst fear was dying. Not because of the actual death part; Katsuki didn’t fear anything in that way. No, it was the impact his death had left behind. Even before the funeral. He’d wanted to leave the grounds of the school. It was the most painful place for him to be. But…

Where would he go? UA was where he had his room, where he had his friends, his career, everything.

He didn’t feel like going to the hellhole people generously referred to as a home, either. Screaming, burning, fighting, blood. Wasn’t much of a home in his opinion.

He just had to suffer through the pain of seeing his funeral take place, with even his rock of a teacher crying, and the runt he bullied in middle school having a full on breakdown.

It was still better than witnessing the probable nonchalance or even gratefulness from his mother and father after hearing the news of his abrupt death, though. At least they didn’t come to the funeral. He couldn’t have held it together if they were around; that he knew.

He kept denying that Kirishima caught onto the fact that he lied about why he had such a high pain tolerance.

It was Katsuki’s own fault that he let it slip in the first place that he was in near-constant pain. He wasn’t anymore, at least.

Sure, the part about his quirk hurting his palms and ears and drying his skin was true, but none of that could come close to comparing to the real reason, though. He always had to remind himself that he was okay, that he was safe in the dorms, but the phantom pains came back to haunt him.

You’d have a pretty high pain tolerance too, if your mom beat the shit out of you whenever she bothered to look in your direction.

Chapter Text

Shouta watched Kirishima. Not in a weird way, of course. He did it because he was concerned. He didn’t seem to have much of a reaction to finding out Bakugou was dead. Well, he did, but not the reaction he was expecting.

He didn’t fall into any of the categories of grief that the other students did. He looked at nowhere in particular, but he seemed like… he saw something?

Midoriya’s outburst drew the attention of most people, and made the funeral crowd progressively more sparse. And Kirishima left.

Naturally, Shouta followed. Stealthily, as was his specialty. Kirishima went to a hallway that Shouta thought he was unfamiliar with. He only recognized it because it was one of the routes to gym gamma.

He expected him to keep moving, but he didn’t. What was so important about this hallway in particular? No one even seemed to come in this hall. Did he want to be alone? In that case, what Shouta was doing would be a complete invasion of his privacy.

Then he started laughing. Not just laughing, but laughing hysterically. Shouta may not be an expert on emotion, but it seemed random and… genuine?

“No man, seriously, what’s going on?” He said, still laughing. Shouta risked a look at him. He seemed distracted. There was no one else there.

He thought it might’ve been Hagakure, but he saw her go off with the people dragging Midoriya away from the ceremony. He also talked like he was responding to someone, but Hagakure was just invisible, you could hear her talk. In fact, she was more talkative than most in the class. Who was he talking to?

Kirishima stopped laughing. And instead, he let out a high-pitched squeal. Shouta covered his ears because of the unpleasant noise. He looked like he had seen a ghost. But that was just a turn of phrase of course.

Kirishima started looking a little concerned. “Uh… are you in pain at all?” What? He wasn’t sure after the first thing he said, but this time Shouta was sure he was responding to someone else.

“You’re always in pain?” Even more concern. Maybe he was just talking to himself? But everything he was saying sounded so specific, like he at least thought he was talking to him.

No, he was reading too much into it. Just trying to distract himself from the death of one of his students.

His phone went off. Good thing he always had it on vibrate. He walked a good distance before answering, much to his caller’s chagrin.

“Hello, Aizawa Shouta, right?” Who the hell was this?

“I’m the Bakugou family lawyer, Satou Kiyoshi. I wish to discuss Bakugou Katsuki’s last will and testament with you. I’ll contact you with the meeting place at a later date, when you and the other people mentioned in it are ready.” He barely had the time to respond before he hung up.

He still couldn’t believe Bakugou had a will already. He had just turned eighteen 25 days ago, before any other student had.

He sure was a go-getter, that was for certain.

---

Two days. A little soon in Hizashi’s opinion. Turns out, there were a hell of a lot of people mentioned in the little listener’s will.

He was right to write a will, in Hizashi’s opinion. I mean, he did end up dead, after all. Never too early, he supposed.

Honestly, he would miss the kid more than any other student. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it either, he wasn’t as unbiased as Shouta took pride in being. As loud as he was, Bakugou had always been close with him. He even got Bakugou’s first hearing aids.

Shouta hadn’t opened up. Usually he’d be able to prod at him until he shared his feelings, but he’d clearly been bottling things up. He hoped that the meeting would evoke something.

They sat down next to Kirishima and Midoriya.

He had calmed down since his meltdown at the funeral, at least. He looked really depressed, though. It was kind of a given considering his best friend (sort of) since childhood had died just five days ago, and he only knew about it for two of those days.

“He has left quite a few things, though most of them are merely sentimental.”

Hizashi took a quick look around. Ashido, Kaminari, Sero, Jirou and Todoroki were there as well. The first three weren’t all that surprising considering how often they hung out together, but he didn’t expect the ones he called ‘Half n’ half’ and ‘Ears’ to show up.

“But there is a significant amount of money.” That was surprising. He was only eighteen, and in a time-consuming school. How would he make money like that?

No one seemed too interested when he mentioned the money. A good sign, he guessed. No one cared about the material things he left behind for them. They were in complete silence.

“That was split equally between Jirou Kyoka, Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, and Kirishima Eijirou, leaving a total of 20000000 yen total. The extra will go to charity.”

They were in silence for a different reason.

Where the hell did that kid get that sort of money? He wouldn’t have time for a job with his grades in middle school, and he wasn’t even allowed a job while at UA!

The lawyer told them all the things they’d be receiving. He wasn’t lying when he said Bakugou left a significant amount of things behind.

“But, you won’t be able to receive them yet.” Oh? “He specifically said to wait one month before anyone received them in case…” He looked fed up. What did the little listener say?

“And I quote, ‘in case the… league fuckers fake my death or I fake my death for… dramatic effect.” If he wasn’t so depressed, he’d laugh. Of course that kid would put that in his will.

“But, this is still viable.” Satou pulled a USB port from his pocket. “He instructed me to give this to one of his teachers (preferably Aizawa, Yamada and All Might) to redeem UA.”

Damn, Bakugou sure kept ahead of the game.

Chapter Text

Bakugou’s message on the USB port was broadcasted all over Japan. The media was ecstatic. Not only did they have the juicy scoop of one of UA’s student’s deaths, they also had a message from him. How many hungry journalists would write about that? It was hard to say. Probably in the dozens.

In the streets, people gathered around the large display screens in front of them.

“I’m dead. Big deal. You want a story out of it, hear you go. However it happened, it was my fault. It’s my fault because this is what I signed up for when I decided to become a hero. Yeah sure, it’s glamorous and whatnot from a distance, but in reality, you’re out there, risking your life every day, no matter how much you try for the spotlight.” People muttered in agreement.

“So, it’s my choice that got me killed, no matter the circumstances. This should not reflect poorly on UA. If anything, it should show that it made me a good enough hero to risk my safety for someone else’s.”

Bakugou leaned a little closer to the screen, just enough to startle someone with his icy gaze.

“So reporters, are you gonna side with the hero school that’s shown time and time again just how much it’d do for its students and the dead kid, or, with the villains who want to damage their reputation? I’ll leave it up to you.” The camera turned off, leaving nothing but the reporters and gawkers to speak.

After the message was broadcasted a day or so ago, there’ve been a few people still adamant on attacking UA, like the jackass at the press conference after Bakugou got kidnapped, but their newspapers and channels got an immediate dip in ratings.

Who would want to oppose the dead kid? Bakugou played his cards well. That message was just so manly! Protecting his school even in his death.

“That was such a good idea, Bakugou! Now UA has gotten more support than ever. I would’ve never thought of somethin’ like that. So cool…” A small squealing sound put Eijirou on edge.

The reporters played the clip again, and Eijirou watched with awe.

Bakugou scoffed ever so slightly. He’d of done it more harshly before, but he’d been relatively mild-mannered since dying.

“You would’ve figured it out eventually. You’re not THAT stupid.” And nicer.

Aizawa was reluctant to give the video to the media, and although All Might had many connections to the press, he wasn’t mentioned in the will.

Eijirou was a bit surprised by that, considering how much those two were together. He asked Bakugou, and he muttered something about, ‘gave the nerd too much All Might merch, no way I’m letting him see that shit.’ and turned away. He was a bit of a fanboy, and since he was pretty wealthy, he had even more merch than Midoriya.
If he wasn’t in mourning, Eijirou was sure Midoriya would cry over the sheer amount of merchandise he’d handed over.

Present mic was the one to hand it over, surprisingly. He seemed to be able to calm Aizawa down enough to make him agree to make it public, like Bakugou so clearly wanted. He knew they went to school together as teenagers, but they seemed REALLY close.

Pres. Mic asked All Might for trustworthy and unbiased news stations and journalists, on Aizawa’s behalf. They had thanked them for the USB profusely and clung to it like a lifeline. They also managed to get a few quotes from Eijirou, who was reported to be close with Bakugou.

They had prepared to release it to the public after writing an article about it, so they’d be the first to report the ‘big scoop’ of the year.

“Is this how you wanted it to happen?” Eijirou asked.

“Uh, yeah, basically. They’re projecting it everywhere with all sorts of stations, all of which were supporting UA in case their ratings dip because of it. Sounds pretty great to me.” Eijirou smiled. Not his usual, toothy grin, but something more genuine and subdued.

“You really care about all of us, huh? Not wanting UA to close, protecting the students and teachers. So manly…” He trailed off, just embracing the soft look on his face.

He absently wondered if that softness was what he was like deep down. If so, why was he only showing it then?

“Shut up.” He muttered in response, lacking the usual bite.

“Aww, you love us!” He knew he was pushing his buttons, but didn’t feel like giving up just then.

“I SAID SHUT. UP.” Eijirou broke into laughter, Bakugou screaming at him like always. Even in death, they carried out their same routine.

He kept teasing Bakugou, until he finally blew up. Literally.

He made an explosion from his palms. That stopped them both in their tracks.

How could he make an explosion while DEAD? “Did- did you just see that?” He certainly did.

“What. The. Actual. FUCK?” Bakugou tried for another explosion. It came. And then another, and another.

“You can make explosions? How is that possible when you’re-”

“Dead?” Eijirou nodded, before realizing-

That wasn’t Bakugou’s voice. It belonged to the third strongest in the class.

“Kirishima, are you talking to Bakugou right now?” Todoroki looked even more excited than when he found out that Aizawa really did have Shinsou as a son. He was wearing huge headphones, and binoculars dangling from his collar. He bordered on insane-looking.

From behind him, Bakugou looked more pissed off than usual. “Fuckin’ Icyhot with his stupid conspiracies.” Except this one would probably be true. Or maybe he suspected another secret love child. He could hope.

---

Shouto knew something was off with his red-headed classmate.

He decided to make a professional police ‘crazy wall’ with the evidence. He even bought differently coloured strings and photos!

Other people had weighted blankets, katsudon and hot tea, but Shouto had cold soba, ignoring his father’s texts, and conspiracy theories.

Evidence: Kirishima had not yet shown any signs of the five stages of grief, not even denial. He knew people grieved in different ways, but he hardly seemed bothered at ALL.

He slurped on his soba, putting a baby blue string up on another photo he’d taken of Kirishima a day ago while he talked to himself. Which led to piece of evidence number two.

He’d been talking to himself under his breath more than even Midoriya after discovering a new hero’s special move. It wasn’t to abnormal at first glance, (though it was excessive) but when Shouto decided to listen in on what he was saying, it didn’t make any sense. It was like he was holding up part of a conversation, although there was no one around to talk to.

Aizawa always seemed to indulge his theories, apparently being the guardian of a conspiracy theorist himself, so Shouto interviewed him. He sounded a little more invested when finding out it was about the wellbeing of one of his students. Even more so when he mentioned Kirishima.

According to him, he noticed odd behaviour with him as well.

It was a blessing to have enough evidence to start a proper investigation and potentially question the suspect, since he really needed a distraction lately. If he didn’t have some sort of hope or motivation, Shouto was sure he’d go back to the despondent numbness he’d experienced before. He didn’t want to go through that again.

Shouto had come up with a few ridiculous theories, to keep himself amused. His most prominent one was that Bakugou was a ghost, but, of course he was kidding himself with that one. He hung up another photo.

He didn’t actually know that you could buy supplies to make a crazy wall, but he’d always wanted to have one. The supplies were actually given to him from Bakugou via the will. Apparently, he had a box of the stuff he would’ve only given to Shouto once he died. He also got a lifetime supply of instant soba. He’d go through it in five weeks at the pace he was at. It almost made him love Bakugou more than Midoriya…

Purely platonic, of course.

He finally decided to investigate Kirishima that night with the stakeout supplies that Bakugou added to the conspiracy box. He even bugged him!

Kirishima was listening intently to the fifteenth report on Bakugou’s message. He looked completely in awe, muttering things like ‘so manly’ and ‘what a great guy!’. He was just as bad as the onlookers.

Shouto crept in closer, until he could hear him without the bug.

“That was such a good idea Bakugou!” He almost fell straight on his face with excitement, letting out a squeal, startling Kirishima in the process. He sank farther into the bushes where he was hiding.

Why was he directing his words at a dead guy? He kept listening, but he was just laughing. ‘Damn, I must’ve missed something.’

His laughter was abruptly cut off. “What. The. Actual. FUCK?” Did something happen on the screen? “You can make explosions?” What?

There was no question about it, Kirishima was speaking to Bakugou. Or he at least believed he was. That explained the not grieving, and the speaking in incomplete conversations. Shouto decided it was his time to confront him.

“How is that possible when you’re-” He cut him off.

“Dead?” Kirishima nodded absently, before turning his head to look at Shouto.

He could’ve asked a million questions at that time, but none were as important as what had just transpired.

...HIS ABSURD THEORY WAS RIGHT!

Chapter Text

Even though he knew it was understandable, Izuku was still sheepish about what had happened at the funeral.

Sure, no one gave him any information, so he was surprised, and justifiably freaked out after finding out his friend had just died, but…

It was a funeral! He started screaming and attacking people at a FUNERAL. With grieving, crying people all around him. Of course Izuku felt bad. He had been SEDATED!

But, he didn’t feel quite as bad as he thought he should’ve, even after he found out they ended the funeral early because of him.

Honestly, all his emotions that were normally at 100% (unlike his quirk) were dialed back by a substantial amount. According to Recovery girl, he was suffering from something called ‘depression’. Like, what even is that?

It had already been decided that he would go to mandatory therapy, but depression didn’t help his case all that much, apparently.

Omori Atsuko, she said her name was. It was a nice name, in Izuku’s opinion. Very comforting.

She said that the depression was directly caused by the grief, and it probably wasn’t permanent. “It’ll subside with the grief, eventually.” She said reassuringly. He wasn’t reassured simply because of her tone of voice. He didn’t think he’d ever recover from Kacchan’s death. He didn’t voice those concerns, though.

She wanted the basic outline of his relationship with Kacchan. She said it like it wasn’t a big deal. About fourteen, fifteen years of one of the most complicated relationships in history wrapped up in a session. He might’ve laughed at the mere suggestion less than a week ago. He just decided to go with it.

“We were childhood friends, but not really ‘friends’ even at that time, then I was diagnosed quirkless, which just made us grow apart even more, and have an even more complicated relationship. I still admired and even loved him, but he either had no time for me. Or spent all of his energy hating me.” Dr. Omori thought he was done, but NO.

“I saved him from a sludge villain attack, which didn’t really improve anything with us. He yelled a little less, I guess. Eventually I developed a quirk, but that seemed to make him hate me even more, so I don’t really don’t know why hated me in the first place. Maybe it had to do with his crippling inferiority complex…” He trailed off, muttering about Kacchan’s possible mental health issues. The therapist seemed to be an equal mix of concerned and curious.

“Anyway, it got a lot better after he got kidnapped, weirdly enough. We solved a ton of issues while beating each other up.” The doctor shut him down there.

“You two beat each other up?” Izuku nodded.

“Yeah, just sparring though.” She sighed in relief. “Although, he did beat me up in middle school and told me to commit suicide.” He said in a monotone voice, like he was reciting a movie plot.

“We worked that out a while ago, though. Now we’re ‘sparring partners’, (which is code for Kacchan’s friend) and we’d die for the other.” If she didn’t have years of experience at her job, Izuku was sure she’d of spit out her water.

She seemed more than a little skeptical. “You say you… worked this out?” Izuku nods, a little annoyed. No one seemed to understand that Kacchan telling him to ‘take a swan dive off the roof of the building’ impacted Kacchan more than it did him.

Sure, it was a terrible thing to say, and there was no excuse for that, but he obviously beat himself up about it every day, meanwhile, Izuku barely remembered it. He didn’t even have a significant flashback about it!

“Completely. He’s my best friend.” Izuku affirmed. “Was… my best friend.” He started crying. Would his poor tear ducts ever have a break? He must’ve been seriously dehydrated at that point.

Dr. Omori handed him some tissues. Did she just always have those on hand?

Right, therapist’s office. They had an hour, and he covered just about everything that would’ve normally taken at least eight sessions in less than four minutes. She decided that moving on from ‘Bakugou talk’ would be the best course of action for that moment. He was too fragile.

Not that he normally wasn’t fragile, but he was just more fragile than normal.

“Although you may not feel the motivation to partake in them, try to engage in your hobbies. It can make you feel fulfilled, or even happy. Socializing with friends or family can always cheer people up, or to shift your attention to something else. Setting small goals can help you get more motivated, too.” She listed off a few more.

Exercise, keeping humour in his life, healthy eating habits, deep breathing and redecorating stood out to him the most. The redecorating part wouldn’t be too difficult once the month was up, and he could get his hand on the countless new All Might posters Kacchan had given to him in his will.

He hadn’t exercised in a while, though. Or eating, for that matter. After he told his therapist that, she was quick to agree with Recovery girl’s diagnosis. She would probably put him on medication after a few more sessions.

Izuku spent five straight hours alternating between going on runs, training in gym beta, and wolfing down katsudon, his comfort food, even though he really didn’t feel like doing anything except wallowing in sadness.

But that wasn’t healthy, and he took Dr. Omori’s advice seriously. He didn’t feel any better.
He wished Shouto were here. He always seemed to know how to cheer Izuku up.

Unfortunately, about thirty minutes before, he took off with the huge box Kacchan had left him in his last will and testament, and Aizawa’s car (was that stolen or…) with a crazed look in his eyes, mumbling about evidence.

He just wanted a hug from his boyf- FRIEND. Izuku wished he listened more when Dr. Omori suggested talking to friends and family. That would help far more than what he was trying. He felt so numb, yet he couldn’t stop crying.

Why did the universe hate him?

---

Katsuki had never seen the Canadian flag look so goddamn happy. He bounced around, stimming a little, squealing about a stakeout kit.

They probably shouldn’t have left that conspiracy theory box to him. How did even get there?

There was no mode of transportation around them (Kirishima wasn’t stupid enough to talk to Katsuki in an area that wasn’t secluded) except Aizawa’s… car…

Oh, god. “ICYHOT, DID YOU STEAL SENSEI’S CAR?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He screamed at double the volume he normally did, but laced with concern.

Then he realized all he was doing was bursting Kirishima’s eardrums, since Todoroki couldn’t actually hear him.

“Dude, chill!” Kirishima shouted back, covering his ears, before also realizing Half n’ half didn’t know what he was saying.

But that just seemed to make him more excited. He turned to Kirishima, looking so attentive it scared the other two men. “WhatishesayingWhatishesayingWhatishesaying?” What was he even saying?

Kirishima seemed to understand, though.

“Um, he asked… very gently,” flat out lie. “If you stole Aizawa sensei’s car?” Icyhot was too worked up to be suspicious.

Oh god, was Shitty Hair going to censor him every time he had to translate to those who couldn’t see him? That would be worse than hell. Not that being a ghost was much better to begin with.

He could practically see the stars in his classmate’s eyes. Didn’t take much to convince him, did it? Not that he could prove it. Or…

Could he?

Kirishima said he felt cold when Katsuki passed through him to prove he was a ghost three days ago, but could he do more?

He charged straight for the candy cane of a human being in front of him, having the advantage of Todoroki literally not being able to see him.

Not only did it make him shiver, but he managed to knock the bastard right. The. Fuck. Over. He got winded from it, and seemed to get him even more riled up. Katsuki was a fucking poltergeist.

Boy, was he gonna have fun with that.

Chapter Text

Eijirou watched as Bakugou tested out every single thing he could possibly affect in the living world. Wait, were they in separate realms? That’d be weird.

He mainly attempted to beat up Todoroki, which Eijirou was powerless to stop since he couldn’t actually touch him.

In the end, he only ended up slightly winded, and the only injuries were the result of being tossed on the ground. Good thing punches and kicks didn’t affect him, or else he would’ve been beaten to death.

He hoped that wasn’t Bakubro’s intentions, but knowing him, it probably was.

His explosions only caused a slight wind and a bit of a burn on Todoroki’s arm, like he had brushed against a pot on a burner.

Todoroki didn’t even seem to notice the burn, or any of the potential pain he was in. He was too damn fascinated.

Like, it’s totally manly to be passionate about shit that you’re passionate about, but really? Bakugou had just tried to attack him, even managing to get in some painful-looking injuries. Why was he so happy about it?

He kept pacing until deciding on one place in particular. “Kirishima, could you help me with this for a minute? If it falls on you, you can just use your hardening.” What the hell was he planning on doing?

Not that the answer to that would change Eijirou’s decision, he wouldn’t NOT help Todoroki, because he’d probably do whatever dumb shit he wanted to even without his aid.

Better to help friends do dumb shit than let ‘em do it themselves. Plus, Todoroki was a fucking idiot when it came down to it.

“What the hell are you doing, Shitty Hair?” Damn, Bakugou only used that name when he was pissed with him. Eijirou just sighed.

“He’s probably gonna get himself killed with whatever he’s gonna do.” Bakugou opened his mouth, probably to argue, but closed it. Instead, he floated away to follow Todoroki.

“Are you coming?” Todoroki called out to him. Bakugou came rushing back. He had that ‘Oh god, you were right’ look on his face.

“Go save that idiot.” They both ran to rescue him, Bakugou barely able to help in his ghost form.

He was attempting to lift a huge-ass box over his head Kirishima vaguely recognized from the receiving of the things in Bakugou’s will. He was a bit distracted throughout the process, though, so he didn’t know most of the stuff he gave away and to whom. (Did he use whom in the right place?)

If it wasn’t for Eijirou’s rippling muscles, Todoroki’s arms probably would’ve shattered faster than Midoriya’s bones did. It must’ve weighed at least a hundred pounds! What the hell was in that damn box?

“How did you get this in his car in the first place? This thing would be impossible to lift by yourself unless you’re God or Bakugou.” Bakugou snickered.

“Bold of you to assume I’m not God. Look, I’ve fucking surpassed death already!” He flexed his muscles. Damn, he was so hot… HOTHEADED. Yeah, that’s definitely what he meant.

Todoroki pointed at a sturdy-looking string attached to the giant box. Did… did he have a way to drag the box without snapping his back in half. Todoroki looked apologetic. “It takes a while to drag it… I got excited.” His face was too damn adorable.

So, naturally, he lifted the box the rest of the way to their vantage point to the city, using his hardening to make sure his arms, legs and back didn’t break from the strain.

He had never seen Todoroki bow so low before. He tore open the box immediately.

Its continents included a large corkboard (which probably made up most of the weight), a stand, more multicoloured strings than Eijirou believed existed, just as many thumbtacks, camera gear, and tons of other things that a person would probably get arrested for getting found with.

He quickly assembled the stand and corkboard, pulled out a couple of strings and thumbtacks, taking photos left and right, and basically doing work you’d see a CSI do at a crime scene.

“Did Bakugou really get you all of that? It seems like it’d be pretty expensive.” Bakugou scoffed. One of his three main reactions to a comment from someone. (the others being a stifled snicker and shouting)

“I ain’t no fuckin’ cheapskate. He likes stupid conspiracies, I got him shit for conspiracies. It’s pretty damn simple.” ‘Aww, he cares about Todoroki.’

Not in THAT way, of course. Not that it would upset Eijirou, he didn’t care who he was in a relationship with, he just knew he wasn’t interested in Todoroki. Probably. Yeah.

“He did.” Todoroki responded, not realizing Bakugou had answered already. He smiled softly, making his heart melt. How was he so fucking adorable? “It was very considerate.” He motioned to Eijirou for a moment.

“Oh, yeah!” He wanted to him to direct him to Bakugou’s position. He wasn’t floating at that moment, which made it easier. Todoroki looked in the direction Eijirou pointed to, and quietly said thanks.

Eijirou wished Todoroki could see the look on Bakugou’s face. He had never seen Bakugou look touched before.

Well, he though that maybe he’d been touched before but it was too subtle to notice, but he had been disproved at that moment. He looked almost on the verge of tears, a wonky smile on his face. Eijirou felt like crying of joy just looking at him.

The crazy wall was already filled with strings, photographs and cue cards with thoughts jotted down onto them. He was surprised with how quickly he filled up the corkboard. No wonder he came up with a new one every day.

“So you still haven’t answered our first question, Todoroki.” He turned to Eijirou and subsequently Bakugou. “Did you steal Aizawa’s car?”

---

That idiot stole Shouta’s Toyota Sienta! It was new! It was his fault for telling the kid to use whatever materials he wanted for his stupid investigation.

Now he had to walk all the way to his house. He may live in the dorms, but he had to go back often since everyone living there was at UA for one reason or another, and it needed maintaining.

One of them had to go home every few days or so.

It took about an hour to get back without the car, and the fact that it was freezing did NOT make him very fond of Shouto. (Yes, he was on a first name basis with the kid, since he basically lived with Shouta before the dorms.)

He then realized he didn’t have the key. UGH. Honestly, with all the shit that had been going on, he was so close to breaking into a million pieces and not repairing, but he held it together, for everyone else’s sake.

Shouta was aware it was most likely a fruitless effort to get the door open, since everyone except Hizashi were very anxious about locking the door, and Hizashi at least respected that. So, naturally, he was on guard after finding the front door unlocked.

He walked through the house; capture weapon at the ready. He spotted the dripping red liquid coating the floor. “No…” Both of his adoptive children and husband let out screams.

“NO!” Those fuckers got into a ketchup battle again. They’d cut open the top half of a ketchup and throw the two parts of the bottles at each other. Hizashi would endorse and participate in it, always joining Eri’s team because Hitoshi showed no mercy to the eight-year-old child.

Why, what did you think the red liquid and screaming were about?
Shouta would always be the one to clean the mess up afterwards, and this time, it was all over their new carpet. What was it with his family messing up the few new things he had. First the car, now this? What was sacred anymore?

It was stupid, he knew it was, but it was that straw that broke the camel’s back. Shouta broke down crying, he slipped onto the ground, staining his pants red.

He tried to keep it quiet, so he wouldn’t upset his two traumatized kids, but they spotted him when he came through the door. They ran up to him, concerned.

Crying more in the past six days than he had in his life was hard as hell for Shouta, and it was certainly shocking for his family.

Eri was the first to speak up. “We’re really sorry daddy, we didn’t want to make you sad, we’ll clean it up ourselves! We’ll clean it up, please don’t cry!” Oh god, that was heartbreaking. He sobbed even harder. Eri started panicking. “I’m sorry, what can we do? I’m so sorry, daddy…”

Hizashi held her back, coaxing her. Shouta looked up, only to get even sadder. Eri was frantic and sad, and Hitoshi was just as scared and crying as well. The only one keeping it together was his husband, but even he looked close to breaking.

All Shouta wanted was to comfort them, but how, when he was the one making them upset? He couldn’t stop the waterworks that were coming. He was hurting his kids by feeling things. It wasn’t rational.

He tried to choke out a “it’s not your fault, it’s mine”, but all he could manage was a broken noise.

Hitoshi kept muttering any reason as to why his dad was crying that didn’t involve them, but came up empty-handed because of his naturally self-blaming nature. When he got anxious

Finally, Hizashi threw a weighted blanket on his husband and kids. They had quite a few of them for their family members who suffered from PTSD and/or insomnia and anxiety. They really loved those.

After a solid thirty minutes of crying on a ketchup-soaked floor with blankets, Shouta managed to calm down enough to speak. “I don’t care about the stupid carpet, not really.” At that, they looked a little less anxious.

“Then what d-did we d-do?” Eri asked through gasps. If Shouta had a heart, it was now in 50 quadrillion pieces.

“You didn’t do anything” He intended to stop there.

“It’s just, Bakugou died, and I tried to keep it together, but it’s SO h-hard, and all the kids were just so upset, and Shouto stole the damn car to check up on Kirishima, so I h-had to walk home, and it w-was unlocked, then the floor was covered in the goddamn ketchup, on the new carpet, and I j-just COULDN’T anymore, and Eri and Hitoshi started crying a-and I know it’s not rational, but-” He vented.

He was interrupted by his kids throwing their arms around him. “It’s going to be okay, dad.”

Chapter Text

Hitoshi was hit harder than he cared to admit. He and Bakugou were closer than anyone knew. They were THOSE kinds of friends. You know the ones. The guys that would pretend they didn’t know each other at all, but went to gay bars with fake ID’s with the other and cut a bitch if they insulted them.

‘Secret besties’ Bakugou dubbed them, drunk as fuck after 78 shots. (how the fuck did this dude not die sooner?) He didn’t even throw up. What a trooper.

Honestly, his da- um, Aizawa breaking down was a blessing for him. It finally gave him the chance to cry without him having to explain what his relationship was with Bakugou. The panic attack and his sis- Eri’s enormous amount of guilt wasn’t great, though.

He wanted to just sit at home and cry for thirteen hours, at least. But, he’d have to settle for the four hours of sleep he got.

At least that part was an upgrade from his usual 30 minutes. Hizashi looked revoltingly proud.

Aizawa and Eri were still sleeping, which was just as rare. Hizashi had to deal with three insomniacs in his house, and the occasional fourth when Shouto would come over to help complete the other half of the conspiracy kids at 3am.

Present Mic went to check up on them, which he did every hour or so when they managed to get to sleep. He always got nervous that one of them would get nightmares, he wouldn’t end up sleeping.

Honestly, when they actually managed to get to sleep, it ended up being more trouble than it was worth.

A few moments later, Hizashi came rushing out of the room where he single-handedly lifted the two into. It was obvious he was trying with all his might not to scream.

“Pres, you look like you’re going to explode, what’s up?” Pres was a nickname he coined, so he wouldn’t slip up and call him ‘pops’ like Eri did.

“Hitoshi, you NEED to see this!” He said, accidentally activating his quirk halfway through, but thankfully, not waking up the other two household members.

“Do I really NEED to see it, though? Really, is anything necessary for me to see? I could live my life in eternal darkness, and sure, I’d WANT to see things, and it would get in the way of my chosen career path, but at the end of the day, I could be-”

Hizashi was used to his morbid outbursts, and was already in the midst of dragging his frail ch- PERSON WHO HAPPENED TO LIVE WITH HIM into the room next to his. It was technically Eri’s, but it ended up being more of a guest room.

The sight before him was borderline godly. “Never mind, that’s fuckin’ cute.”

Aizawa was cuddled up in the cat-themed sleeping bag Bakugou left for him in his will.

Hitoshi had also gotten a few things, in a separate meeting with his jackass lawyer. Apparently, even in death Blasty wouldn’t admit they were best friends, although, Shouto was a close runner-up. (He would include Kirishima to the list, but according to drunk-as-fuck Bakugou, he wanted to bone him, so ‘friends’ wouldn’t be entirely accurate.)

He honestly expected more, after seeing Hizashi’s reaction, but that dude could get hyped up about any damn thing. Plus, he loved his husband and gushed at everything he did.

“‘Kay, I’m gonna go contemplate my existence and cry, bye Pres.” But he continued to hold him in place by the collar of his shirt.

“Shh, that can be done at any time of the day, Toshi! You haven’t seen the best part yet~.” He cooed, suppressing a squeal. Hitoshi didn’t mind staying, since school was cancelled for a week, and he had nowhere to be. (It didn’t hurt that Eraser was adorable in that cat sleeping bag.) He still didn’t see what the big deal was, though.

And then Pizza roll emerged from her natural habitat, followed by Eri. The natural habitat being the sleeping bag, of course. (Pizza Roll was their fat-ass cat that always happened to be napping with anyone who so much as closed their eyes for two seconds.)

Aizawa was cuddling with their food-named cat and the goat child in a sleeping bag that Hitoshi’s best friend gave to him in his last will and testament.

Of course, he was gonna start crying, what did you expect? He may be dead inside, but this was the defibrillator to his black, cold heart; just like the one that couldn’t save his friend.

Damn, he could probably make a dark poem on Reddit with material like that.

“So, you didn’t need to see this, my angsty listener?” No, he definitely did.

---

Shouto still hadn’t returned to the dorms. Usually, it didn’t take that long to disprove one of his ridiculous theories.

Izuku hadn’t moved in an hour. Everyone else in the dorms had at least tried to go to bed at that point, sending worried glances to Izuku as they left.

He just couldn’t be bothered anymore. Usually, Izuku would have enough energy and motivation to power three thousand and eighty-five people, but with Kacchan gone, what was even the point?

He was left alone with only his thoughts (which were usually just about hero theories), which turned dark quickly.

He just wanted to stop thinking and finally get some rest, but he couldn’t work up the energy to get his body to move. ‘Your body not moving, huh? Just like when you failed to save Kacchan from getting kidnapped.’ His mind happily supplied.

This felt like more than just fatigue from a workout though. It seemed mental. Was it that ‘depression’ thing-y people were talking about?

“Set small goals.” Dr. Omori’s voice rang though his head. Small goals. He could do that! He made big goals all the time, so it should’ve been easy.

‘I’ll just have to set the small goal of walking from here to my dorm room. Shouldn’t be too hard.’ He thought.

Izuku couldn’t do it. He couldn’t think of any kind of motivation that would get him off that couch, though. Maybe an offer for a hug would do it. But only a Shouto or All Might hug. Those were amazing.

But alas, Shouto was still out, investigating one of his theories, and All Might hadn’t spoken to him since before the team-up even happened.

“You’ll do great out there, young Midoriya! You shouldn’t worry so much. This is more of a practice than anything.” His words were made to reassure Izuku, but it only made him fall deeper into the pits of despair remembering them now.

He was probably just as torn up as him about Kacchan’s death. The thought only made him more despondent, sinking farther into the literal and metaphorical sofa.

Peppermint-man (his true hero name) burst through the dorm room doors to save his sad baby, completely unintentionally.

That gave Izuku the motivation to finally sit up. “Oh, Midoriya, I didn’t expect you to be up.” He said, voice monotone as usual. The excited look on his (bloodied?) face betrayed his tone, though.

He still insisted on using his surname, no matter how close they had gotten over the course of their time together.

“Oh…” was all he could bring himself to say. Shouto looked like he was going to say something, but cut himself off after hearing Izuku’s lacklustre response. It was like there were alarms blaring in his head, for his “something’s up with Midoriya” alert.

“Are… are you okay?” Izuku intended on saying his usual ‘I’m great! What’s up with you?’, but something snapped in him, and he cried for what felt like the millionth time in his life. This time, it wasn’t for some insignificant reason.

“N-no! C-can I p-please have a hug?” He pleaded, sobbing.

Shouto’s expression immediately softened. “Of course.”

Izuku managed to pull himself up, to fall into Shouto’s embrace, silently crying all the while.

After 40 good minutes of that, and multiple refusals from Shouto when Izuku told him he could let go of him (bluffs, obviously), he finally told Izuku what he was going to say from the beginning.

Smiling subtly, he said; “I have some news that I think will make you feel a little better.” and Izuku did not expect what came next.

Chapter Text

“Bakugou is a ghost.” Shouto didn’t really think it through, and now that he did, he felt stupid. But Midoriya was upset, so he reacted impulsively.

He was definitely going to be mad at him, thinking he was lying or making fun of him.

Instead, he laughed. Another possible reaction, but it seemed weak. It had no emotion behind it, which was odd, considering Midoriya was always emotional. He seemed exhausted.

“Was that the theory you were testing? Sounds like a nice one…” He sunk into Shouto’s arms. He needed to go to sleep. He got an idea he learned from Aizawa.

“Midoriya, I’m going to make something. Don’t question it, just drink it.” Midoriya didn’t seem concerned. He was obviously very concerned.

He’d just have to get a few ingredients from Aizawa’s room. His key for his room was in the car, after all. Like Shinsou said; “It’s not stealing if it was in something else you stole.”

“Warm milk?” Midoriya asked him, looking into the pot where he was boiling it. He wasn’t entirely wrong. It was warm milk…

Shouto reached into the cupboard where everyone stored their respective mugs and glasses. It wasn’t hard to guess which one was Midoriya’s after seeing the mug decorated with All Might through the ages. Shouto also needed desperately to go to sleep, so he got out the plain dark blue mug he owned.

“Shouto, this milk tastes weird.” Well, of course it does. He added a hell of a lot of Aizawa’s ‘special ingredient’.

“Yeah, cough syrup can be pretty strong if you put enough of it in.” Midoriya spat out the milk left in his mouth. He looked shocked.

“You… put a large dose of cough syrup in the milk, openly admitted you did it, and drank it yourself?” Yeah, why wouldn’t he? The special ingredient was fast-working, so it’d probably kick in after a minute or so. He nodded in response.

He finished off the rest of his milk. Midoriya just shrugged and finished his. “Dr. Omori isn’t going to be happy I’m voluntarily doing drugs…” He mumbled.

Dr. Omori? Who was that supposed to be? Normally, the only doctor on campus was Recovery girl. But, if anyone would know about another doctor, it would be Midoriya.

They decided to get to a comfortable sleeping place before they got too tired to move. They didn’t actually end up going to their dorms, just an extra mattress in the common areas. If Midoriya wanted cuddles, who was he to refuse?

“Sho~ why did’ya druug us? It feels weeird.” He said with a giggle.

“Daddy said it wasn’ druggin’ if you need to go to sleep.” He said, patting Midoriya’s hair in a circular motion.

“Yer daddy drugged ya? Tha’s not nice. He’s a meanie.” Shouto laughed at his friend’s slurred speech, before realizing he was doing the same thing.

“No, no, no, not the mean one, he’s ‘shitty old man’. I mean my REAL daddy. He’s cooool. Aizawa sensei is the one I ak-chuly like (an’ I live with him).” He stated plainly, struggling to enunciate.

Midoriya laughed a little more, snuggling closer to him. “Yeah, I wish Aizawa was my daddy too. But does he know he’s yer daddy?” Shouto hummed. He didn’t really know. I mean, they’d basically lived together for a few months, so he at least looked at him like a son-figure.

Instead of actually responding to a question he was unsure about, he just booped Midoriya’s freckled nose and passed out.

---

Katsuki was bored as fuck. As much as he love- could tolerate Kirishima’s presence, he’d been the only person he had talked to for the past three days.

Normally, he’d spend some time alone, scrolling through his phone, but that wasn’t really an option. The most he could do was knock it over, and he really didn’t feel like getting another damn phone, no matter how much money he had. He wouldn’t call himself stingy, but he certainly wasn’t reckless with his cash.

He could ask Kirishima to use it for him, but that wasn’t even an option for Katsuki. He trusted him, sure, but he didn’t want anyone to see his private shit.

All that he could really do outside that was people-watching, and that made him feel uncomfortable, seeing as they didn’t even know he was there.

Seeing Icyhot freaking out was totally awesome, but he left pretty quickly to check on damned Deku. So then, he was completely and utterly bored. He floated around for a bit, but that got just as mundane as everything else.

Honestly, he could just sit and look at Kirishima all day, but that would be creepy, and give him the complete wrong idea! (Though he didn’t exactly know what the right idea was.)

Kirishima still had twenty more minutes of time away from the dorms, and Katsuki didn’t feel like asking him to go back early. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and he didn’t want to ruin that.

It’s not like he cared or anything, he just didn’t want to be in debt to him!

So, he stayed until Ectoplasm picked them up. Well, technically speaking, he only picked up Kirishima, but he was unintentionally carrying Katsuki with them.

He wondered idly how he was able to sit on the seat of the car and move along with it. Icyhot could probably figure it out. He may have been oblivious as all fuck, but he was plenty smart, especially when it came to this ‘theory’ thing.

Technically, he could’ve left and gone back to the dorms at any time during the night, but what fun would that be without anyone to talk to? Spoiler alert: it wouldn’t be any fun.

Sleeping was impossible, considering he was dead, so he already had to figure out what to do when Kirishima passed out. He was just trying to talk to someone who could respond without translation before he dozed off, okay.

Though, they hadn’t exactly been talkative on the ride back. Ectoplasm would question why he was talking ‘to himself’. He couldn’t just outright say he was a ghost. Only people who were clinically insane would believe that, (he’s looking at you, Half n’ half bastard) and he didn’t feel like beating up his teacher to prove it.

They’d finally arrived at the dorms, and Kirishima ran directly up to his room, probably to pass out as soon as his head hit his pillow. Katsuki didn’t follow (because boundaries), so he was left completely alone in the common room.

At least, he should’ve been alone.

He had assumed everyone would’ve been asleep in their respective rooms, but nope. Deku was there, clinging onto fuckin’ Icyhot, surprisingly the big spoon. For the first time, he was glad he was a ghost, because his uproarious laughter only woke up one person.

“Dude, what’s going on? It’s 1am, what could be so funny?” Bakugou just pointed to the scene on the extra mattress on the floor, unable to speak through his wheezy laughter.

Kirishima tried desperately to stifle his laughter as to not wake them or anyone else up. He fell to his knees, continuing his fit of giggles. God dammit, why’d he have to be so fucking adorable? It was totally ruining the moment.

“Told you, they’re obvious as fuck.” He’d finally calmed himself down to a few small chuckles.

“How the hell did this even happen?” Katsuki flew around the room, looking for an answer. And he found it in their mugs, which were unwashed and on the table, a pot of milk, and a very obvious bottle of

“Cough syrup. They drugged themselves… with cough syrup and passed out on the mattress. Oh god, he’s gonna be so pissed he missed this moment-” He cut himself off before he accidentally managed to blab about being friends with their local sleep-deprived cat lover.

“He? He who?” Kirishima asked while snapping pictures of the two idiots sleeping together. Katsuki couldn’t tell him about the mind-fucker, but he also couldn’t let his friend down by not sending him those pictures.

“Could you do me a favour? No questions asked?” He asked timidly.

He looked a bit taken aback. It was understandable, considering Katsuki never did ANYTHING timidly. “O-of course! What is it?”

“I left my phone in your room last week, didn’t I?” Kirishima nodded, looking a bit embarrassed, though he couldn’t imagine why. “Could you get it and bring it here?” he did so immediately.

“Okay, follow my instructions without question, ‘kay?” He asked, uncharacteristically calmly. “Put in the password… 345476.” He hoped he didn’t see it spelled out ‘Eijiro’ in the numbers, but then again, he was a dumbass.

“Go onto messages, the one called…” He paused to sigh. “Insomni-snacc.”

“What?! Dude, the fuck?” He cut him off with a snappy ‘no questions’ and he did so without complaint.

“Send them the photos you just took of Todoroki and Midoriya.” He obviously had a question, but bit his tongue, honouring Katsuki’s request. “He fuckin’ owes me for this.” Katsuki muttered under his breath.

He didn’t expect to get a response, but that was probably stupid, considering Shinsou just got a text without context from a guy who was confirmed to be dead.

‘Who the fuck sent this? Did you kill Bakugou? Is this a threat to Todoroki and Midoriya’s safety? If so, you shouldn’t have sent such an adorable picture.’ Whelp, he was fucked.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi was actively trying to freak out. Normally, he tried to avoid panicking, but there were certain times when it was necessary.

When his best friend who just happened to be dead texted him, he thought freaking out was kind of a bad situation. But the goddamn photo was too adorable to be terrified.

And hilarious. Whoever sent this to him either knew who to threaten him or how to make him laugh.

He got the most awkward-looking response he’d ever seen, especially from Bakugou’s account.

‘I, err, am… Bakugou?” Did they just type the first thought that came to mind and added stuttering? They could’ve taken their time and come up with an excuse that wasn’t so BULLSHIT.

‘Wow. Just… wow.’

“Hitoshi, who are you texting at 12:00am? Is it Shouto again? Tell him to return the car and go to sleep!” Hizashi called out from the other room. He kept forgetting that he didn’t turn off the keyboard sounds on his phone.

“It’s not Shouto. It’s… Bakugou?” That definitely made Hizashi worry. Hell, it made Hitoshi worry.

He was only half kidding. I mean, it was Bakugou’s phone. He’d probably end up crying about that later.

Hizashi came barrelling through the doorway of his room, (knocking first, because the Aizawa-Yamadas respected privacy) and grabbed his phone.

“Holy shit! (Don’t tell Eri I said that) Who the hell would be using Bakugou’s phone? Also, how the heck did you even get his number? Shouta couldn’t even get his hands on this. Is his name labelled under… ‘Blasty boi’?”

“UMM… not the point!” He said, not bothering to formulate a proper response. That would probably raise more suspicion later.

His phone buzzed. He always had it set on vibrate, which led to the phone falling off of shelves when the class 1-A group chat blew up.

Confusion flooded Hizashi’s face. He gave the phone back to Hitoshi, still pondering whatever he looked at.

It simply read; ‘Secret besties’. It wasn’t like Bakugou to not put punctuation at the end of his texts, but that was definitely him. He was the only one who knew about that phrase other than Hitoshi himself.

He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was imagining it, from grief or something.

But, the same text remained; Hizashi even reaffirmed as such when he repeated the text out loud.

“Secret besties? What is that supposed to mean? Hitoshi, do you-”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence, as Hitoshi was already halfway out of the house, but Eraserhead stopped him before he could exit their home.

Aizawa had woken up about thirteen minutes ago, though Eri still remained asleep. He had to go through a humiliating process of shimmying out of his cat-themed sleeping bag without disturbing Eri or Pizza Roll, while Hizashi compulsively took a thousand pictures per second on his cellphone.

He tried to shove past him, but Eraser was the one who physically trained him, so he could easily keep from leaving, or even moving at all, no matter how much muscle mass he had developed.

“Hey, Hitoshi, what’s wrong?” He hadn’t even looked Aizawa in the eyes, and he’d already known something was going on with Hitoshi. He didn’t have the full story, though. Not that he could explain it even if he tried.

“No, nothing’s wrong, but I have to GO!” He cried out desperately. He needed to go to the dorms, to see what the hell was going on!

“Are you going to be harmed, mentally, emotionally, physically or otherwise?” He asked, sounding gruff and out-of-it as ever.

Hitoshi shook his head, still struggling in vain to get past his guardian.

“Tell me out loud, please.” He asked, making direct eye contact with Hitoshi, which was rare when in came to him.

“I-I’ll be okay, I just need to go, I’ll be safe.” He nodded in response, finally letting him leave their home.

He ran straight through Hizashi’s car door, jamming the keys into the ignition. Thank god he got driving coaching from Bakugou four months ago.

It took about 10 minutes to get back to the dorms.

He had planned on not going back to the Aizawa-Yamada household unless necessary since the dorm plan had been implemented, but Bakugou’s death really brought the mood down in the class 1-A common room, so he decided to hang out with the light of the world; Eri.

After what felt like an eternity, he got to the dorms. He intended to search Bakugou’s dorm room for his cellphone, but instead he found someone already awake. And shouting.

---

Eijirou felt like a moron. And Bakugou confirming that by shouting about his utter idiocy. Who the hell stuttered in a text? ‘I err, am… Bakugou?’ God, that was stupid.

“What the hell, do you have a head injury or sum’n?!”

“YES!” He shouted. “I GOT A FUCKING CONCUSSION! IF YOU WEREN’T DEAD, MY HEAD WOULD BE THROBBING RIGHT NOW BECAUSE YOU CAN’T CALM THE FUCK DOWN!” He vented, throwing his hands up.

Bakugou was obviously taken aback by Eijirou’s shouting, looking visibly startled. He took a deep breath. It’s been a stressful week, and he’d taken out on Bakugou. Hopefully, he would understand that.

“By the way, what does ‘secret besties’ mean?” He asked, quickly changing the subject. “It’s been, like, fifteen minutes and Shinsou still hasn’t responded. Do you think he understood whatever you were trying to get across?” He nodded, still looking a bit frightened.

“That probably means he’s on his way here now.” That confused Eijirou. What could be so important about those two words that could make Shinsou come over so quickly? Was it Bakugou’s intention to get him to come, and if so, what would he even do? Were they that close?

That thought made Eijirou feel a bit jealous. He wasn’t sure why, but he chalked it up to there being competition for the title of being Bakugou’s best friend.

Not that he thought he really deserved that title, nor was there any competition he had to face before.

“That doesn’t really answer the first part of my question, though. What was that supposed to mean?” Bakugou just huffed, evading the question. “Hey, it’s so not manly to keep secrets, bro! You can tell me.” He pleaded, but his (non) answer remained the same.

He groaned loudly, before remembering that there were others still awake. It was totally uncool to disturb others in their rest!

Although, his and Bakugou’s rooms were the only one other than Shouji’s on their floor, and he doubted that anyone would be sleeping after the events that unfolded recently. Everyone had been just as restless as you’d expect, since the funeral had happened just three days before then.

So he certainly didn’t expect Shinsou, their newest member of class 1-A, to come into Kirishima’s room, a wild look in his eyes.

“Kirishima! Do you know where Bakugou’s phone is?” Getting straight to the point was a quality he had in common with Bakugou. If neither of them were as antisocial as they were, he was sure that they’d end up being good friends.

Bakugou wasn’t kidding when he said that he’d arrive there soon. Less than fifteen minutes. Pretty impressive.

Chapter Text

Kirishima looked like a deer in headlights. And he had a phone in his hands. Bakugou’s phone.

Easily recognizable because of its large, explosion-proof, custom-made black case with a giant orange X covering it, reminiscent of Bakugou’s hero costume.

Hitoshi had to use it to call Shouto a few times when Bakugou and him were too drunk to drive safely or to think of calling a cab. He was the only other person who knew of their friendship.

Which is why it was shocking to see that Kirishima knew about the ‘secret besties’, like was said in the text. Bakugou didn’t seem like the type to blab about things like that, even if he was boning the dude.

“What the hell?” Kirishima still didn’t verbally respond, only making vague hand gestures, which wasn’t very helpful for what Hitoshi planned to do. It didn’t even help him get any information.

Another attempt. “Explain, NOW.” He used his ‘scary voice’ that Bakugou told him could scare most people into doing what you wanted, especially if you could take them by surprise. It definitely worked in the surprise department, since it was so eerily reminiscent of Bakugou’s voice.

It managed to shock him out of his surprise enough for him to fumble over his words, just enough to actually be considered words. “I- y’know, I was just, uh-” Good enough.

"Tell me everything about what's happening, and don't leave anything out. Also, tell me why you hesitated in the first place"
He said, adding the last part as more of an afterthought.

That would most certainly be considered a misuse of his brainwashing, but at that moment, he just wanted straight answers from somebody. He always got them from Bakugou…

Kirishima sat upright, with glazed eyes. “I was using the phone to text you the picture of Todoroki and Midoriya sleeping on the mattress while cuddling. Bakugou told me to send it to you, but I don’t know how he knew that, or even how he had your number, and to be honest it made me kind of jealous, but I don’t really know why? Then you came into the room, and I couldn’t really talk that well and hesitated because I have a concussion.”

Hitoshi pulled him back out of his brainwashing.

What the actual HELL was that supposed to mean? Fucking, ‘Bakugou told me to send it to you’? He’s fucking dead, moron! He couldn’t be lying, he was under Hitoshi’s controls, so that was impossible.

He must’ve been telling the truth when he said that he had a head injury. But how would he get into Bakugou’s phone?

Hitoshi was the only one who knew the password, and he doubted that oblivious puppy knew to spell out ‘Eijiro’ in numbers, especially when he misspelled it for the sake of having six letters. He could’ve forgone the name altogether, but he was simply too gay for that.

And, even if Kirishima managed to crack through the phone’s defences, (which was slim in the first place, considering he was an idiot, and Bakugou had an actual grenade implanted in it if someone got the password wrong three times in a row) how did he know their inside joke?

They’d always mutter ‘secret besties’ to each other while passing each other in the common room or in hero training, making them both laugh a little. No one had heard that, (except maybe Jirou) they’d made sure of that. So, how?

“You know, it’s not very manly of you to use your quirk on me. You could’ve just asked and I would’ve told you…” He mumbled, looking a little miffed.

“Eventually, sure, but you were taking way to long.” He remarked snidely. Hitoshi was still reeling from the fact that there was a possibility Bakugou actually TALKED to him.

“Um, you don’t believe me, right?” He phrased it like a question, but it was more of a statement.

Kirishima looked at no point in particular, silently communicating with the air. Definitely had a concussion, there was no doubt about it.

I mean, with all these signs, who would believe a grieving 17-year-old’s ludicrous delusions just like that, with almost no proof?

“I believe you.” Answer: Apparently, Hitoshi would.

Why? Because he was an insomnia-ridden, 17-year-old conspiracy theorist who had just lost his best friend, that’s why.

Kirishima had a ‘dude, are you serious?’ look on his face, which was rich because he was the guy who suggested the idea he was believing.

“You’re kidding, right?” He wasn’t. “I mean, I was pretty sure that the text I sent you had some sort of meaning behind it, but it made you believe me that easily? It’s kind of impressive, but also makes me think you’re a little crazy. Todoroki was at LEAST already investigating that theory, but you just accepted it!”

He stopped himself from continuing his second rant, wincing at the volume of his own voice. Headaches; especially concussions were a bitch, Hitoshi knew that. He’d had more than his fair share after training with Aizawa, and generally being around 1-A.

“I still need an explanation, and PLEASE, don’t try to hide whatever the hell is going on.” He told Kirishima in a hushed tone, as to not aggravate his head any further. He nodded.

“Okay, this is going to sound crazy, so just try and stay with me, ‘kay bro?” He asked, shrugging. Just how insane was this going to be? He shivered for a second, though not appearing to be from his head injury, and said, oh so plainly; “Bakugou’s a ghost.” And he was dead serious.

---

Shinsou was there. Katsuki had looked around for his best friend in the days between his death and funeral, and continued to search in between times when Kirishima was preoccupied with other things (mostly sleeping). He was even planning to go to the Aizawa-Yamada house, where he always went while the others weren’t there.

He could’ve gone to the separate meeting for the last will and testament, but he felt down in the dumps enough at the first one. Shinsou was already the most depressed fucker he knew as it was, and he knew TONS of depressed fucks.

Considering he had the new, smaller voice changer Katsuki got him covering his mouth, he had probably gone already. He didn’t arrange a specific time for his lawyer to give his stuff to Shinsou (or any of the others), so he wasn’t sure if it had happened.

“Um, you don’t believe me, right?” Kirishima asked. No SHIT, Sherlock! Who the hell would?

He looked at him, silently asking for permission to spill the details on what was going on. He nodded. Why wouldn’t he want that? He wanted people to know he was okay, not that he cared about their stupid grieving, it was just inconvenient to be legally dead.

“I believe you.” He seemed just as shocked at his answer than he and Kirishima were. And for good reason, too. What the hell, you idiot insomniac! Honestly, he was as bad as Icyhot sometimes.

“What the fuck, WHY? Is he insane or sum’n? Kirishima, can you believe this idiot?” He didn’t respond, probably to spare Shinsou from even more confusion.

He ranted for a while, before wincing and rubbing his head. Katsuki and Shinsou grimaced sympathetically. They both got tons of migraines from having to deal with their rowdy classmates.

Maybe after that whole mess was over, he’d invite him to deal with the rowdiness of the Bakusquad idiots rather than the Emosquad and Dekusquad losers.

Emosquad was awesome and quiet and shit, but Katsuki could actually bear being around raccoon eyes, dunce face and tape arms for an extended period of time, despite their noise levels, which was saying a lot for Katsuki.

“I still need an explanation, and PLEASE, don’t try to hide whatever the hell is going on.” He sounded so desperate, to a level on which Katsuki had never heard before from his tired friend.

He wondered if Kirishima was actually going to tell him the truth. It would have to be something REALLY convincing if he actually wanted Shinsou to believe him.

“Okay, this is going to sound crazy, so just try and stay with me, ‘kay bro?” Oh my god.

“IDIOT! HE’S NOT STUPID, HE CAN FUCKING KEEP UP WITH YOU!” He smacked him over the head, going through him. Kirishima obviously had to suppress an eye roll though his shiver. The audacity-

“Bakugou’s a ghost.” Wow, that was even more tactless than he thought Kirishima would put it.

Shinsou was in a stupor. Understandable considering what a dumbass way of phrasing that was. Katsuki had learned how stupid that sounded after his personal experience trying that with Kirishima. His reaction was hysterical laughter, but that wasn’t at all like Shinsou.

As much as he felt like berating Kirishima, his curiosity regarding what his reaction would be trumped that feeling. He leaned closer to Shinsou, managing to sit exactly on top of his boyf-FRIEND’S bed without even trying, the reason still eluding him.

“Have you told Shouto about this?” He leaned just as far as Katsuki was, accidentally bumping heads with him. Instead of an uncomfortable collision, Katsuki felt nothing, and Shinsou winced at the chill from his ghostly form.

“Oh. My. GOD! Was that him just now?” That fucking moron.

You know what, after Icyhot, he shouldn’t be surprised that people believed him so easily. Just about everyone he knew were clinically insane, after all.

“Yes? Do you seriously believe me? I really didn’t expect that.” Neither did anyone else.

“Of course. I’m a conspiracy kid, through and through.” Katsuki had always thought that name made them sound like Scooby-Doo characters. He wasn’t wrong, though whether he meant the protagonists or the wannabe villains, no one was sure.

“QUIT USIN’ THAT STUPID-ASS NAME, DUMBASS!” Kirishima directed the closest thing to a glare he could muster at Katsuki, which was completely laughable because of his pleasant nature.

“Do- do you have some sort of history with Bakubro? You seem to know a lot about each other.” Both Katsuki and Shinsou broke into a nervous sweat. He glanced at both of them. “Well, that’s suspicious.” But, he didn’t press any harder. That’s right, he respected boundaries too.

“By the way, he thinks that name is stupid, in case you wanted his input.” He joked, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Oh, he’s made that PLENTY clear.” He groaned, before his eyes widened comically. “Wait, are you the only one who can see him? He can TALK?!” Damn, they had a LOT to catch up on.

Chapter Text

Mezo was considered patient and intelligent, and he’d agree with that assessment as well. But after overhearing the discussion between Shinsou and Kirishima made him both impatient and completely flummoxed.

Trying to wrap his head around the discussion his classmates were having in the room next to his was next to impossible.

He was never one to eavesdrop, though his quirk was excellent for that activity, but that conversation between the two (maybe three?) in the room next to his got him more than curious enough for him to perform the immoral activity of ‘snooping’.

He’d been working on his stealth too, so putting an ear or two against their shared wall without them being aware of his presence was no big deal. They were too absorbed in their deliberation, anyway.

A ghost. Their theory was that Bakugou, their spiky-haired, temperamental classmate and (sort of) friend, was an actual ghost. Apparently, that was a thing.

Mezo also prided himself on being formal and eloquent, but all he could think to say was; “What the fuck?” Which, to be fair, was an understandable reaction.

Eventually, Mezo no longer needed to press his ears against the walls, since Shinsou started shouting. Did they really not consider the fact that he was listening in? Honestly, that was completely on them.

“Oh, he’s made that PLENTY clear. Wait, are you the only one who can see him? He can TALK?!” He could talk? It was getting more and more ridiculous by the second.

At first, he thought that Kirishima was delusional; grieving and whatnot, but the fact that Shinsou believed him so easily made him question if that was true. So, he kept on listening. Kirishima made him keep his voice down, as to not aggravate his headache or let Mezo hear them. Little did they know…

“Yeah, of course he can talk!” He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like talking to ghosts was the most normal thing that had ever happened to anybody. Yup, total common knowledge.

“And, yeah, as far as I know, I’m the only person who can see him. At least… uh, fuck. Forgot what I was gonna say.” He definitely had a concussion.

“Todoroki is the only other person who knows, I think. Maybe someone else does, but I have no idea.” Right, he didn’t remember the villain attack. Everyone had been so absorbed in their guilt and grief that they hadn’t checked on the other people who were part of the same attack.

Even Bakugou’s own ‘squad’ didn’t check up on him. Not that Mezo could blame them, everything had been so messed up at that time, how could they think about anything or anyone else?

He wondered how Todoroki and Midoriya were doing. Todoroki had certainly looked terrible during the funeral and before Bakugou’s death was officially announced. Did he feel responsible, was he traumatized, did he get injured in the incident, how was he made aware of the impactful death that had recently happened?

Maybe he would check up on them in the morning, just to see how they were handling everything, and find out what he could do for his friends.

The two of them had helped in the mission to rescue Bakugou after not being able to save him at the training camp. Mezo felt the same way they did, and even considered joining them, but thought better of it. Now, he regretted that more than anything.

Those two were obviously willing to risk everything for Bakugou’s wellbeing, so how much guilt would be weighing them down?

Maybe that was why Todoroki was so willing to believe that ludicrous idea. He couldn’t bear the thought that it might not have been true. If so, could Mezo really believe them? Was he really going to believe them, simply because he couldn’t put his emotions aside?

But what if it was the truth?

Based on the minimal information he had, Kirishima seemed to have information about Bakugou that he wouldn’t normally know, like the passcode for his phone.

He also didn’t seem to realize that it spelled ‘Eijiro’, while Mezo figured it out after one glance at the numbers. He was so oblivious.

“Do you know about the other ghosts around, or can you just see Bakugou?” He hadn’t thought about that. He’d always assumed that they would just reincarnate, like they’d always been taught.

“Nah man, there aren’t any others!” He exclaimed.

Did he seriously not consider that- “This could be the result of one of the villain’s quirks if there aren’t any other ghosts around! Hell, he might not even be a ghost.”

Mezo could practically hear Kirishima’s mind being blown from his room. “Bro, I didn’t think about that. Bakugou, did any of the villains manage to use their quirks on you?”

When did Kirishima and Shinsou become ‘bros’? He’d hardly even heard them talk before then. He could become friends with anyone instantaneously, it seemed.

More to the point, did he say Bakugou? That, he was interested in.

---

Shouto woke up, expecting it to be around 2:00am, his usual time, immensely surprised when he saw it was the morning.

Not the ‘when some people go to sleep’ morning, but the actual goddamn morning. Like, the 9:47am kind of morning. Which meant…

“Heey, sleeping beauty! How did you sleep? Probably a lot better with your lovebird giving you his body warmth.” That other people saw him and Midoriya. Oh dear god, could this be any worse?

Apparently it could, since the person who found the two of them was none other than Ashido Mina, the class ‘shipper’, whatever that was supposed to mean. But, from context, he determined that involved a particular interest with a platonic or romantic relationship, or at least something of that sort.

It was odd, considering she had never woken up this early on breaks. But from the way she looked, he didn’t think she had ‘woken up’ at all. It was hard to do so if you hadn’t gone to sleep.

Her hair, while usually messy-looking, was tangled and frayed at the ends, probably from pulling at it or chewing. The bags under her eyes could rival Hitoshi’s, or even Aizawa’s, and she didn’t bother to change out of her pyjamas. For the self-proclaimed ‘queen of style’, that was a big deal.

Even she was too busy dealing with a heavy loss. It was kind of unsettling.

He tried to stand up, but got hit with the worst headache he had ever had. Apparently, being mildly concussed and drinking tons of cough syrup was a bad combination. He groaned, and fell back into Midoriya.

“No, I slept better because I drugged myself, that’s all. Although, his warmth may certainly have been a contributing factor.” Ashido gasped and rushed over to him.

“Are you okay? You look terrible. I mean, gorgeous, but TERRIBLE! Also, what was that about drugging yourself?” Someone let out a snicker from the other side of the room. Great, so someone else was there? Oh, it was just Shouji. That was okay then. He was cool.

“Speak for yourself, Ashido. You look like you need a nap. And, it was just cough syrup.” She laughed, though even with his emotional intelligence being as low as Mineta’s height, he could tell how forced it was. She looked on the verge of tears.

He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in the biggest bear-hug known to man, but Shouji beat him to it. He could do it even better than Shouto could, considering Shouji had six more arms than he did.

She cried and cried, not quite as long as Midoriya did, but still a considerable amount. He had much more development in his tear ducts than she did.

She looked like she had been holding that in for far too long. Shouto wanted to tell her about Bakugou, how she could communicate with him, and how he could potentially come back to life. Unfortunately, he’d seen what happened with Midoriya already. It wouldn’t turn out well.

Eventually, the two boys (without waking Midoriya up) managed to convince Ashido to go to sleep, for at least a few hours. Shouji carrying her there was ‘wholesome as heck’, as Midoriya would often say.

“Hey, did you get injured during the team-up? You didn’t answer Mina earlier. Was Midoriya injured either?” It was odd to witness someone so stoical openly show so much concern.

“It was nothing much, just a minor concussion. Nothing like Kirishima’s, anyway. It just didn’t go well with that much cough syrup. Midoriya wasn’t hurt other than an overuse of one of his newer special moves.” After the worst part of his headache had gone away, he remembered the events of the fight, and Bakugou’s death. He wished that he didn’t.

He still looked concerned. “How are you taking… well, everything?” He wasn’t expecting a question on his emotional state. Honestly, he hadn’t even thought about it, he’d been so wrapped up in his case. That was kind of the point of that theory, after all, to distract him.

“Honestly, I wasn’t… doing so well. But, I think I’m better now?” Shouji smiled. At least, his hand did. He’d tried to investigate on whether he actually had a face. He still hadn’t gotten an answer. “You should probably ask Midoriya. He seemed very upset.”

“Understatement of the year. He was even closer with Bakugou than Kirishima was.” He said solemnly.

Speaking of which, Midoriya usually woke up at 6am. Even with drugs, he shouldn’t have slept that much longer, since it was 10:13.

That seemed… not good.

Chapter Text

Many people had come into the common room by 11:00, saying that it was a good time to wake up on a vacation.

Vacation was a bold term for what was happening. It was time off to cope with their grief, for an entire week and the weekend that fell just afterwards. So, they had two more days. ‘Vacation’ was the term used by people who were still avoiding dealing with Bakugou’s passing.

Everyone had been surprised to see Midoriya still asleep on the mattress. They were all aware that he woke up at an ungodly hour in to keep up with his intense training routine. But he wasn’t even moving.

They speculated what might’ve transpired to make him so exhausted. Shouji mentioned the fact that he was drugged earlier, though that wouldn’t make him sleep for that long. Others said he worked out for five hours the day before, which may have tired him out. All avoided the true root of his tiredness. Bakugou.

It was killing Shouto to be one of the few people that knew of Bakugou’s true condition. He wanted to share it with everyone. His classmates, teachers, pro heroes, news anchors, everyone. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Although, he wasn’t sure what specifically about his death affected him in that way. It could’ve been finally sleeping after days of having an improper sleep schedule, and the release of emotion tired him out enough to sleep.

But, Shouto was by no means an expert on mental, physical or emotional health, but it wasn’t entirely implausible, as far as he knew.

Kaminari, Sero and Jirou still hadn’t come to the common rooms either. Despite her emo nature, Jirou always went to sleep on time and woke up early. Kaminari and Sero usually slept in until noon, so no one was too worried about them, everyone was concerned for Jirou.

The people who suggested waking them up or going into Jirou’s room were immediately shunned, saying it was an invasion of privacy, and from Uraraka; “But he’s so cute when he’s sleeping!” Which made Shouto grimace, though from jealousy, disgust or general distaste, he wasn’t sure.

In any case, they all ended up agreeing. They tried to distract themselves, but inevitably ended up sitting on the chairs and sofas placed around the room, sitting in silence.

Normally, silence was a best-case scenario for Shouto, but today, he just wished that they’d be their normal, rowdy selves.

Instead, Yaoyorozu started crying, which led to Tsu crying, and so on. By the end of it, everyone was hysterically sobbing, and if you weren’t, that meant you had to be in ‘the know’ about Bakugou.

Which was why Shouto was so confused when Shouji, their lovable eight armed goth-jock, seemed to be the only other one who didn’t start crying?

He knew that Shouji thought with logic rather than emotion, and had a tendency to cover up his feelings, but even he should have been emoting at that point! He just looked guilty; much like Shouto was.

But, he couldn’t have been feeling guilty for the same reason Shouto was, since he was guilty because he didn’t share the information he had on Bakugou being a ghost. So, Shouji must’ve been upset over something else, for he couldn’t possibly understand the weight on Shouto’s shoulders… could he?

He went full conspiracy theory mode, wondering what Shouji’s reaction meant. After all, even Tokoyami was visibly upset, which was very odd to witness, since he was a bird.

Actually, was he a bird? Sure, his head was a bird’s, but it was cut off at his neck, which is why he wore that choker. His quirk was to control Dark Shadow, which was emitter type, not mutation, and had nothing to do with birds, so how did he end up with that head?

‘Not the time, Shouto! One theory at a time.’

He thought about talking to Shouji in a private area, but Aizawa came through the door to the common room. All attention, including Shouto’s, turned to him. He was obviously heartbroken at the sight of all his kids mourning.

He still wasn’t deterred from his intended target, though. That target just happened to be Shouto. He braced himself for the worst while Aizawa dragged him to a private area on one of the less live-on floors, floor 4.

“Do you know where Hitoshi is?” Ah, it was just that. Shouto let out a long breath of relief, before panicking once again. Where was Shinsou? If he didn’t know, that meant he could’ve been missing.

Then he walked out of Kirishima’s room, looking more well-rested than he ever had been. He might have even gotten four or five hours. Kirishima, on the other hand looked exhausted.

Holy crap, did they have sex? Shinsou was so tired out he managed to fall asleep, and Kirishima looked way too worn out. They came out of Kirishima’s room TOGETHER, and their red-haired classmate was SHIRTLESS. Shirt. Less.

He voiced these concerns, to which Kirishima blushed furiously and Shinsou just smacked him over the head.

“Hitoshi, I was so worried! Why didn’t you call or text?” Shinsou smiled, looking genuinely happy; more than Shouto had ever seen before. He was surprised that what finally made him happy was getting berated by Aizawa.

Even weirder considering Bakugou’s situation. Shouto was the only other person that knew about their friendship, so he was considerably worried.

“I couldn’t call you.” He paused. That seemed like a weird thing to be pleased about. Plus, Shinsou wasn’t one to forget his phone anywhere, because of his constant anxiety about losing it. How was it possible to not be able to contact him?

“I couldn’t call you because I fell asleep.” Their jaws dropped. Shinsou? ASLEEP?

“On top of the four hours you already got? How long did you sleep for? How is that even possible? Oh god, don’t tell me you drugged yourself, Hitoshi.” Both Shouto and Shinsou laughed.

“No, Shouto was the one who drugged himself.” God, he snitched to Aizawa? That brat! How did he even know about that in the first place?

Aizawa erased someone’s quirk to make his eyes glow red and to get his hair sticking up (Which Shinsou unashamedly copied), and gave him the most menacing glare he could muster.

Shouto thought better of mentioning the fact that Aizawa was the one who gave him the tip to use cough syrup to pass out. (Although he apparently said that sarcastically, but the point still stood)

“I slept for seven hours total tonight. That’s, like, NORMAL for kids my age! As for how…” He looked at Shouto.

“I got some pretty good news from Kirishima.” He said with a smirk.

He knew.

---

Izuku slept for WAY too long.

Everyone was worried out of their minds, asking him all sorts of questions. He didn’t know how to answer them honestly without making them worry any more, and he was a terrible liar, so he didn’t respond to them at all.

Instead, he booked an appointment with his therapist. It was probably the smartest decision that he could make at that point.

He could barely pull himself out of the warm mattress, only able to encourage himself with the thought of seeing Shouto. At least it was easy enough to get him to come over, which never seemed to be a problem for him.

They had a thirty-minute cuddle session before Midoriya decided lying down silently wouldn’t be good for him.

He really intended to follow Dr. Omori’s advice in every way, from socializing with people he cared about, making sure he was physically active and setting small goals. Today, he was just trying to find the motivation to continue moving.

The talking thing was the easiest to do, especially with Shouto. He had tried having a phone call with his mother, but with all the crying, pity and sympathy, he couldn’t keep it up for long.

He still didn’t feel any better, though. He knew it was a process that took time and effort, but he wanted progress NOW. Izuku didn’t know if he could take any more of that unbearable feeling. How was someone with so much motivation supposed to handle depression?

Deciding to talk about his diagnosis with Shouto was a good choice, he thought. He seemed to understand the term, which was rare with his heterochromatic friend. He even gave him more coping mechanisms.

It occurred to him that Shouto may have or still was suffering from depression. It wasn’t unbelievable, considering how he normally acted, especially in their first year at UA. He wondered how people could suffer like that for so long. In a way, he was lucky.

Unfortunately, as soon as he admitted he had depression caused by grief and trauma from Bakugou’s tragic death, Shouto had the nerve to look GUILTY! Was he serious? Who told him he had the right to feel that way?

He wanted to smack that look right off his face, but he had already been slapped over the head by Shinsou earlier that day.

When Izuku had tried to ask him what had happened, he changed the topic to his appointment later that evening. It was only 4 and a half hours after he had asked to book one, since all of his classmates refused to go to the therapy they needed, and she didn’t have another client for weeks.

It made him feel better that he wasn’t using up all of her time with his problems, even though that was LITERALLY her job.

Shouto obviously wanted to tell him something, and even after hours spent together, he didn’t spill. It was unusual for him to be anything but upfront, blunt, and honestly tactless. Hiding something was foreign to him, and it showed.

Involuntary tics popped up all throughout his speech and body language to signal his obvious lie of omission.

Did it have something to do with the other day, when he was talking about his ridiculous theory about Bakugou?

Bringing up that name, even in his head made his mental state worsen. He didn’t care about finding out what was happening with Shouto anymore.

He wanted nothing more than to collapse on the ground crying, not moving until the next season came ‘round, but he kept trying to continue on as normal, doing everything he could think of to keep from giving up completely.

Izuku had never had to try so hard to keep his enthusiasm up, and it was torture.

Chapter Text

“Holy crap, did you two sleep together?” What. The. Fuck.

Did Icyhot seriously think that? He was really close with Shinsou, so he should’ve known that he would never do something like that, especially with Kirishima, of all people! What the hell was his problem?

I mean, they did spend the entire night together, talking and getting closer. And MAYBE there was an obvious tension between the two of them too strong to be ignored, that made Katsuki feel like a third wheel. And he left them unattended for almost an entire hour because of an increasingly growing discomfort.

They were both completely tired out when he decided to come back, tired enough to make even Shinsou fall asleep for three hours.

...DID THEY ACTUALLY SLEEP TOGETHER?!

Katsuki flushed, from anger and embarrassment, and looked at his best friends to study their reactions. He had always been very skilled at telling what people were thinking through their reactions, as he was surprisingly emotionally intelligent.

The fact that Kirishima looked about ready to pass out or die from mortification was pretty telling, even without Katsuki’s skills, though.

“SHITTY HAIR, PLEASE DON’T TELL ME YOU FUCKED HIM.” He asked of him in the calmest tone he could give. It wasn’t very calm, mind you, but it could’ve been much worse.

Kirishima couldn’t even give him a proper response, only sinking to the ground, a blush so hard it could rival the colour of his garishly red hair. That was the reason he called him shitty hair, the extra-as-fuck colour, not the spikiness of it.

Next, he looked to Shinsou for a response to his perfectly reasonable question, before remembering once again that he couldn’t hear ghosts, unlike Kirishima, for whatever reason that was.

That made him upset. Goddamn it, why did he have to go and get sad? He already fucking knew and came to terms with the fact that he was dead. He had been for a whole week, even seeing multiple people receive his things from his will. Why couldn’t he just get over it already?

On the bright side, Shinsou didn’t seem like he actually slept with Kirishima. He was almost completely unfazed by Todoroki’s invasive question. He just smacked him on the head.

It barely even made him wince, but it was enough to clear away Katsuki’s bad mood completely. He rolled around on the floor laughing, gasping for air.

Slapstick had always been Katsuki’s kind of comedy, even though he had… some bad memories tied to being beaten senseless. What could he say? The guy liked watching people get hit by trucks and kicked in the nuts. A simple man, indeed.

Honestly, he had no idea why he was so relieved that they weren’t sleeping together. Kirishima could do whatever the hell he wanted to, who was Katsuki to stop him, or even care. It wasn’t like it was even morally wrong, considering that they were both almost eighteen.

Afterwards, Kirishima seemed confused. He couldn’t blame him, since there was a lot of stuff going on that wouldn’t make sense to anyone except the people who were part of or knew about the Aizawa-Yamada family. He wasn’t part of either group.

Aizawa, in his usual fashion, didn’t bother hiding what they were talking about from Kirishima.

It wasn’t really a matter of hiding his relationship with Hizashi, but he just didn’t think it was a necessary thing to share, and he wasn’t one for PDA. They even only referred to each other by their hero names while at work, even if they thought no one was listening. That’s what Katsuki had heard from Shinsou, anyway.

“Why did you ask me if I slept with Shinsou?” ... Not the question he was expecting, but a fair one nonetheless.

He didn’t really know how to answer that. Sure, there was a possibility they may have, but he knew that Kirishima wouldn’t do that. “I dunno. There were signs, I guess.” He mumbled, showing that he obviously didn’t want to continue that line of questioning.

The flush on his face returned full-force. “Y-You know that I didn’t, right?” THAT’S what he was worried about?

“Are you serious? Of course, I don’t think you assaulted him with I friendly weapon!” He started laughing, while Kirishima looked unimpressed by his innuendo for sexual intercourse.

“Oh, don’t like that one? I have more!” He boasted, fully prepared to list them off. “A bit of the old in-out, in-out? Matrimonial polka? Searching for pocket change? Four-legged foxtrot? Horizontal refreshments? Interior decorating? Schnoodlypooping?” He couldn’t get through any more without being interrupted by his laughter.

Kirishima just looked so DONE. “Sch-schnoodlypooping? What?” Oh god, if he wasn’t already dead, he would be dying of laughter right then. “Is there a website for this? How did you-”

At that point, neither of them could speak. Katsuki from laughter, and Kirishima from unadulterated confusion. He had learned those innuendos from his parents’ not-so subtle conversations at breakfast. When he tried to ask what they meant… it wouldn’t end up well.

Another abrupt stop to his laughter. He’d had a lot of those lately. To many goddamn mood swings and “trauma”. Yeah, like he could have “trauma”.

He had only had an abusive mother, was a victim of a villain attack that only All Might could beat, in which he barely survived. And then… repaid him by getting kidnapped and bringing on his downfall. Not to mention going through the ordeal that was dying.

… And then it kept giving him nightmares, while he relived it over and over vividly. Okay, maybe he had a bit of PTSD, but overall, if you didn’t include his crippling inferiority complex and possible anxiety, he was totally fine.

“What’s the deal with Aizawa, Shinsou and Todoroki? They seemed weirdly close, even though Aizawa never gives them any special treatment.” Finally, a question he could answer without things getting awkward. Probably. With Kirishima, he never really knew.

“Shinsou is his adoptive son, and Icyhot… kind of lives with them? I dunno, their relationship kind of confuses me. He was probably asking the half n’ half bastard where mind-fucker was. He also lives with Eri, y’know, the goat kid, and Hizashi. Uh, Present Mic, I mean.” Their dynamic was kind of complicated, so that was the best description he could give.

Stricken with a realization, he asked; “How do you know that much about them?”

Oh, dear.

---

Eijirou had never seen Bakugou nervous.

He had seen him make many new expressions since he had died. He theorized that he didn’t make those expressions because he didn’t trust the people he was around enough to make them. It would’ve been absolutely adorable if he really trusted Eijirou that much, but it was unlikely.

It was much more probable that he just felt more things that were brought on by his death.

But, in the time that Eijirou knew him, he had never seen him nervous, or scared. Maybe startled from time to time, but never nervous.

Not even when they got attacked by villains at the USJ, or at the training camp, or any of the other times when they were in mortal peril. (which was actually many times, when he thought about it)

According to one of the pro hero’s accounts of the story, he barely even blinked while he was rescued, or during the most intense part of the time of his kidnapping, while it looked like he was about to start battling them. He was fearless, that much was known to just about everyone in their class, the UA staff, or even other classes.

So, why in the world did he look so nervous when Eijirou asked him how he knew so much about Aizawa’s familial relationships?

He fumbled on his words for a good thirty seconds, which was even worse than Kirishima did with an actual head injury, before he could put together a basic sentence. “I… stalked him?” He was so obviously lying.

Did he seriously think that stalking was worse than however he really knew? What immoral thing did he do that would make stalking seem like a forgivable thing he could do?

“Uh no, that sounds bad. It’s because I hang out with Shinsou a ton. ‘Secret besties’ means that we were secret best friends.” Oh, that made a weird amount of sense. English had never been his best subject.

So, he didn’t commit murder or anything like that, he just made a friend. Of course, Bakugou would be the only person in the world who would try to hide that.

Weirdly enough, he felt less jealousy after learning that Shinsou and him were friends. It was odd, considering that was why he thought he was jealous when Shinsou came over. He’d think about that later.

“So, you’re on a first-name basis with Present Mic, huh? When did that happen?” He joked slyly.

“SHUT UP, SHITTY HAIR! IT WAS JUST A HABIT I GOT FROM SHINSOU, OKAY?” Ooh, struck a nerve there. He severely doubted that was the reason why he called him by his given name, but he didn’t press any harder.

Bakugou had a thing about certain topics, and Eijirou always knew when to stop messing with him. There was a lot about his friend that still eluded him, so he had to test the boundaries between playful teasing and the things that made him genuinely upset.

He changed the topic. Probably a smart move. “What do you think will happen when school starts up again?” Bakugou shrugged.

“They’ll probably move on and start working on their classes, like normal.” The worst part was, he actually believed that. That people would just wake up two days from now and realize that it wasn’t a big deal.

But it WAS a big deal. People never really got over a death, especially one with as much of an impact as Bakugou’s. Sure, they could wake up every day and not cry, but it’d still linger in the back of their minds, that was just how humans worked.

Even worse than that, he didn’t seem upset or surprised about it. Like it was a fact of life that people would just forget about you and move on.

Did he expect this to happen while he was still alive? Did he, without fear, think about the fact that all of his loved ones would just be okay?

His parents were just enforcing that by not showing up to his funeral, or even giving the school a call.

The last thing Eijirou wanted to do was judge people without even meeting them first, or even after that, but his parents seemed like they weren’t doing a great job of teaching their son just how important he was.

Eijirou said nothing more on the subject, and although they continued to chat, he couldn’t take his mind off what they had just talked about.

All he wanted to do at that time was chew his parents out. Turns out…

He didn’t have to wait too long.

Chapter Text

Shouta was surprised when he got the call. It was at 7am, for one thing. Who would call someone at 7am? Monsters…

What was even more surprising was the name on the caller ID. He had only received it after the move to the dorms, but hadn’t actually had to use it until that moment.

It read ‘The Bakugou family’. They had never called him, and Bakugou hadn’t mentioned either of them in their entire time of knowing each other, as far as Shouta knew. And, since he had been looking after him since he was 16, that was saying a lot.

He knew Bakugou could be rather private when it came down to it, but not even talking about his parents? That was definitely weird. It almost worried him…

It was probably just his parental instinct kicking in once again, though. He picked up the phone, and walked out of his and Hizashi’s room.

Eri had managed to sleep the entire night. He hoped she wasn’t having a nightmare, or maybe even having a dream. Shouta had only seen Eri have a good dream once. It was after the school festival with Midoriya and Togata. She said it was about candy apples. She had the biggest smile on her face that just warmed his heart.

His hope was Bakugou’s parents hearts warmed the same way when he would tell them about a good dream when he was a kid. He didn’t really get that feeling from his mother, but maybe from his dad?

“Hello?” Shouta despised saying ‘hello?’ to start a phone call, especially when you already knew who was on the other end. But, formality dictated everything.

“This is Aizawa Shouta, right? Katsuki’s homeroom teacher?” He was taken aback by the fact that she could use her dead son’s name so casually so soon after he had passed. Maybe she was trying to hold it together for this call?

He replied with a short, ‘yes’, and she continued on with the conversation. “As you must already know, Katsuki has just died.”

Her tone was completely different from the one she used while he was trying to convince her to put her son in the dorms. It was more monotone, professional. His theory that she was just trying to hold it together for him was reinforced by that.

Why would she sound calmer, unless she was trying to make herself sound that way instead of crying? That must’ve been it. Why else would a mother who just lost her child sound so put together?

It was the only rational explanation… wasn’t it? He didn’t want to think about that.

“I know. Why do you ask?” He ended up coming off a little snappy. He wasn’t sure why, but she was really pushing him the wrong way. It made him feel guilty for feeling that. He should’ve been feeling nothing but sympathy for the poor woman.

“Because you buried him behind UA.” That definitely made him defensive. He wanted nothing more than to snap at her, before he realized just how irrational that was.

Instead, he responded calmly to the woman speaking to him. “Yes, we did.” Then he started getting a little defensive. “It was his wish to be buried there, specifically where we put it. If you wanted to put it somewhere else, you should’ve contacted us or come to the funeral.” That last part was little to far, Shouta knew.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that. I wasn’t trying to move him, y’know.” Oh? Then why was she calling?

Her tone was the same as it was years ago, when he met her. Why did her tone change from professional to normal so suddenly after he mentioned her son’s grave? She should’ve been torn up about that.

“Then what are you asking for? You seem to have all the information already.” He really needed to calm down. Maybe it was because it was early in the morning, but he was feeling really aggravated talking to that woman.

“I want to come see it, with my husband.” He softened immediately. Of course, she wanted to get permission to come through the gates of UA to see her kid’s gravestone. “And to get some information from you and some other people at the school.” What?

What kind of information was she looking for? Probably information on his death, he assumed. He’d have to do some research with the problem children and pros that were at the scene to get the information he needed.

Grief and trauma could mess with people’s accounts of situations, so he’d have to get multiple people’s side of the story. Most of the pros and aspiring heroes were already unconscious by the time he had died or had gotten head injuries, so it wasn’t the most reliable.

That people with the full story were limited to Katsuki, of course, though he was no longer around to tell it, Midoriya, since he didn’t fall in either category, although he was grieving.

So, that meant the only person who had all the fact that wasn’t corrupted with a concussion or grief was the person who Shouta wanted to talk to the least. Endeavour. He would’ve groaned if not for the fact that he was still on a phone call.

“When do you want to come? I’ll see whether it’s plausible or not.” He asked, checking the school schedule that week on his laptop.

Around 12:00pm was available for both her and the school, so they decided on that. Meanwhile, he needed to head back to the dorms himself.

Hitoshi hadn’t responded to any of his texts, which was very unusual for his adoptive son. Shouta was starting to worry, so he killed two birds with one stone by heading back. He wanted to greet Bakugou’s mother in person before she did what she wanted to do.

He talked to Shouto, asking him what had happened to Hitoshi, and unnerved him greatly when instead of answering the question, he looked like he was internally panicking. Did Hitoshi not even contact HIM? Was he missing? Dead? Worse than that?

His spiral was put to an end when Hitoshi walked right out of Kirishima’s room, looking completely unharmed. “Hitoshi, I was so worried! Why didn’t you call or text?” He found it highly unlikely that his anxious son forgot his phone.

As it turned out, he actually managed to sleep more than he already had. It was a bit suspicious, though. “On top of the four hours you already got? How long did you sleep for? How is that even possible? Oh god, don’t tell me you drugged yourself, Hitoshi.”

Apparently, he had slept seven hours total, and Shouto drugged himself. He didn’t give context to that comment, though. As for the ‘how’ part of it…

“I got some pretty good news from Kirishima.” That was pretty vague. He didn’t even add anything to that.

He sent a knowing look to Shouto, and he dragged him away to Shouto’s dorm, which was on the next floor up. It left Aizawa feeling pretty confused. He would talk to the two of them about it later.

Dealing with Bakugou’s mom was the priority at that time.

---

He did the necessary research on his death before coming to the dorms, so he had a solid hour before she came.

Unfortunately, instead of napping, he remembered that he still didn’t know either of Bakugou’s parents’ names. So, he had to spend his time driving back home to get his laptop, researching their names, and getting back.

Going through the list of parent names on the staff information was too much of a hassle for him, so he did a quick google search.

The results for their name came back unnervingly quickly, even for google. He then remembered that they ran a major fashion industry and that Bakugou was on every news station since the video they had gotten from his will. No one had managed to get an interview with the two of them so far, though.

He silently prayed that no one ever would. It seemed that, after checking with a few sources, the mother’s name was Mitsuki, and the father’s was Masaru. He memorized them just in time for the two of them to enter the dorms.

It was unexpected, considering they were only there to go to the graveyard. He went to greet them, and was welcomed with a smile from the two parents.

The smile didn’t seem unnatural or forced, but completely genuine. The uneasiness returned full force after seeing that. He hoped that his body language didn’t read as tense. “I thought you were just going to be in the graveyard.” He said through gritted teeth, unable to contain his curiosity and discomfort.

Mrs. Bakugou laughed. She really LAUGHED! That pissed Shouta right off, but still didn’t speak up about it. ‘Everyone grieves differently’ he had to remind himself.

“I’d hardly call it a graveyard, if there’s only one grave, sir.” Was she correcting his grammar? What the hell was wrong with this woman?!

“I suppose you’re right, Mrs. Bakugou.” He seethed. She laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulder.

He didn’t even try to hide how tense he was, but she didn’t seem to care, or even notice how uncomfortable he was. The father seemed to notice, but didn’t mention anything to his wife. Was he a coward or just plain inconsiderate?

“Oh please, no need to be so formal. You’re the one who let me in here. Call me Mitsuki.” She said with yet another laugh. He most certainly felt something off with her. Was she even grieving at all?

“I just came up here to ask about Katsuki’s last will and testament.” Her face softened a little, and she backed away from Shouta. “His lawyer has refused to talk to me” It wasn’t a family lawyer? How could Bakugou afford his own? “He’s always had a grudge against me.” He could sympathize with Mr. Satou on that point.

“That corporate bastard hasn’t told me anything, but I know the brat wrote one.” Calling her dead son a brat? That was low. “He did spill that he talked to you about it, though.” Oh. No, that couldn’t be it. What kind of person would be concerned about that?

“I was wondering if you could tell me when that is taking place. That kid has always had some secret cash stash stored away somewhere.” He was right. He had never wanted to be wrong more in his life. She had only come to get her hands on his money.

“It already took place, ma’am.” He smiled from under his scarf.

Shouta wasn’t sure what her reaction would be. He didn’t know her that well, and he hadn’t actually confirmed that she only cared about what he was giving her in his will, although he was pretty sure of that.

What he certainly wasn’t expecting her to start screaming bloody murder and cursing at her dead son. Right in front of thirteen upset students, no less.

He looked to Bakugou’s father for support, but he only sighed and shook his head, like she was asking for a store manager, not like she was swearing and yelling about her son ‘being greedy and not appreciating his mother and all she had done for him’.

The last person Shouta expected was the one to intervene. The student he had never seen get upset, much less setting with rage.

Kirishima.

Chapter Text

Aizawa had been acting oddly while chewing out Shinsou for not contacting him. And not in the way that Eijirou didn’t understand what their relationship was, no, although that he also couldn’t wrap his head around.

No, by that Eijirou meant that he was weirdly on edge. As if he was nervous about something.

Deciding to forget about it though, he headed to the common room with everybody else. They all looked really gloomy. He knew the reason why, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Everybody seemed to be a little more cheered up after seeing Eijirou, at the very least.

Mina wasn’t there, though. It was odd, seeing as she usually went to the common room before doing anything else, especially on vacations and weekends. He asked around to see where she was, but the only person who seemed to have an answer was Shouji.

Weird, considering the two of them weren’t particularly close. He wasn’t giving Eijirou a straight answer, but decided to simply say that she was still in her room. He was slightly peeved at that, but didn’t say anything more.

Even if he did, all it would do was make his classmates worried about her, which he really didn’t want to do. They had been through enough, and she was probably fine.

People seemed concerned and confused by the fact that Eijirou was down. They were all worried that Jirou, Kaminari and Sero weren’t around, but they expected him to stay in his room all day? That was weird. Everything was weird recently, especially regarding the people who he could normally predict.

Classmates who he knew well, the principal, their homeroom teacher, hell, even Bakugou was an enigma to him at that point. It frustrated him to no end.

Everyone fussed over Eijirou, asking him every sort of question imaginable, and the quieter ones in the room just sent him pitying glances. It really got on his nerves. It was like they were all in on some sort of practical joke, and he wasn’t told about any of it.

What was their problem? Did he do something wrong?

Every time someone got near Eijirou (and Bakugou by extension, since he hadn’t separated himself from Eijirou for an extended period of time since they had gotten into that ordeal), Bakugou would turn away from them, looking almost… guilty?

He couldn’t really tell, since he had never looked that way before. He could only use other people expressions as reference, but Bakugou’s expressions looked entirely different from the average person’s.

Completely in the dark about whatever they were pitying him for, he couldn’t help getting (justifiably) irritated. He snapped.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” The worst part was that no one seemed taken aback or surprised by his reaction. Why couldn’t they just be surprised or offended? Did they know something that he didn’t?

“What do you mean by tha-” He didn’t have the patience for that.

“Don’t BULLSHIT me!” They still didn’t react, only looking even more pitying. He let out a humourless chuckle, obviously furious.

“Fine, I’ll play. Why were you surprised when I came down here? Why did you keep fucking PESTERING me with questions? Why are you suddenly so goddamn concerned with my wellbeing? What’s up with the stupid pity? I don’t need your pity!” He vented, trying to get out every frustration that ha been building within him for the past seven days.

No one answered. They avoided eye contact, shuffling their feet. The whole morning, all they seemed capable of doing was talking his ear off, asking questions like ‘can I get you anything?’ or ‘how was your sleep?’, but now when he asked a question, they couldn’t say a word? How was that fair?

Uraraka was the one to speak up first. “We’re just worried about you.” Yeah, he could tell, but why? “You were probably the one affected by Bakugou the most, next to Deku, maybe.”

Oh. They were worried about how he was handling his death. They didn’t realize that Bakugou was actually sitting right next to him.

Now that he thought about it, that was probably why Bakugou didn’t look at any of them while they were checking up on Eijirou. It was probably awkward for him to hear them so worried when he was actually there next to him the whole time.

But he looked at his friend’s face, and that theory flew out the window. It wasn’t awkward for him. He was upset. Actually, legitimately upset. Like, brood-y, holding-back emotion kind of upset.

It made sense, and was totally valid, of course. I mean, how was someone supposed to feel if they saw their close friends of about two years mourning your death while you watched? Eijirou was just surprised, since he had never seen his friend look so sad. It made him feel terrible about himself, and felt even worse after seeing even more upset looks on his friends’ faces.

“Sorry, guys.” He was also addressing Bakugou, but they didn’t need to know that. “I just… haven’t been feeling great, lately.”

It was true. Sure, everyone else was probably doing much worse than them, but he was still having a bad time. His best friend had died, which, even in the case that he would come back to life, still sucked.

Midoriya had told him that he had ‘Gotten shot while protecting him’. As vague as that was, and much as Midoriya kept silent about, it still made him feel guilty as hell.

He had to go through a hell of a lot, so it was pretty understandable that he was irritated. He considered telling them all what was really happening, to give them peace of mind, but was interrupted by the opening of the door.

It was… Bakugou’s parents?

Strangely enough, even after all their years together, Eijirou had never once heard Bakugou mention his parents. Even after he had looked through his contacts, he didn’t see them in there, even after going through thirteen other people’s contacts.

Aizawa came rushing into the common room as soon as he spotted them. Was he expecting the two of them or something? Was that why he was acting strangely?

It didn’t make sense that their arrival would make him seem so nervous, though. As far as he knew, they weren’t scary or anything. If they were anything like Bakugou, they’d be total sweethearts!

They started chatting with Aizawa, presumably about information on Bakugou’s death. If there was any person Eijirou wanted to tell, it would certainly be them.

He started to make his way over to them, but looked to Bakugou first. He wished he didn’t.

Happy, touched, startled, nervous, upset. He had seen all those and more from Bakugou in the past week. He thought they were all endearing, it let Eijirou know him better. This new expression, though…

Eijirou never wanted to see it again, especially not on Bakugou. That horrible look on his face was one of the reasons he wanted to become a hero.

To stop people from ever looking that horrified.

---

They were in one of the less visited spaces in the common room, so Eijirou could talk to him without arousing too much suspicion. He NEEDED to talk to him, even if only for a minute, to make sure he would be okay.

“Bakugou,” He whispered, inaudible to everyone except the man standing next to him. “What happened? Are you alright? In any pain?” He tried to keep an even tone, but after seeing Bakugou with that much fear in his eyes, he couldn’t keep the worry out of his tone.

The worry just kept increasing more and more during the minute where he didn’t answer. He didn’t dare look back to Bakugou, in fear of seeing that face again. The one that looked like his whole life would come to an end, like he was reliving his worst moment.

Hell, for all Eijirou knew, he might’ve been.

He wanted to say something, to comfort him or to help in some way. But, before he could, he heard screaming.

Screaming LOUDLY. He thought someone was dying, or worse. Whatever was worse than dying, anyway?

Looking at the source of the noise, like everyone else seemed to be, he saw none other than Bakugou Mitsuki. Not a sweetheart after all, he mused. He didn’t need to focus too hard to hear what she was cursing about.

The goddamned will. She was screaming bloody murder, because her dead son didn’t include her in his will.

He looked back around to Bakugou, to see his reaction. He should’ve learned his lesson from the first time. Now, he’d be forever haunted by seeing Bakugou having a fucking panic attack.

Nothing was on his mind at that moment, except the righteous fury at his worthless parents. He fumbled a bit, when Bakugou tried grabbing his arms, to hold him back.

Mitsuki didn’t even see him coming, she was too focused on cursing at her dead son that she didn’t even realize was in the same room.

Wondering whether she would do the same if she knew he was there was what spurred Eijirou forward.

When he intervened, Aizawa had a smile on his face. Eijirou didn’t care why.

“Leave. Now.”

Chapter Text

A mistake.

Not including either of his parents in his will was a MISTAKE.

Katsuki thought it would be freeing, knowing for once in his pathetic life, he would defy them, even if he didn’t get to see it for himself.

It was supposed to be foolproof. After all, he would be dead. Sure, there would be a slim chance that his death was faked, but if so, he would have already finished his year in UA, so his parents couldn’t get to him anymore.

Who would have thought that this would happen? Why did he think that he deserved to get peace from them, even in death? No matter what happened, nothing in his life could stay good for long.

Death wasn’t something he longed for, of course, he had too many dreams that were still left uncompleted for that, but there were certainly worse things. Like what was happening right in front of him, with his mother. That was much worse than death, at least in his eyes.

Everything was fuzzy, the only thing he could focus on was his mother’s screaming. Breathing was harder than it had ever been before. He felt stuck, stuck in the same thought.

‘WhydidIdoit? Itwasamistake. WhydidIdoitWhydidIdoitWhydidIdoit?’ It kept repeating, over and over again in his head. He couldn’t make it stop. The fact that no one could see him was the only thing comforting him.

Until, that was, Kirishima decided it was a good time to turn around to look at him. Let’s just say, it didn’t help him calm down much. Especially when his normally cheerful friend started looking like he was going to murder someone.

At first, he thought it was directed at him, but after he turned right back around to face his mother, he knew exactly what he planned to do.

Desperately, he tried to drag Kirishima right back to the couch, to save him from whatever the old hag would do to him.

Katsuki tried to communicate exactly what she was capable of, what kind of danger he could be in, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. Pathetic, just like everything else he tried to do. He couldn’t even save his best friend for being hurt in his place, only making him stumble.

“Leave. Now.” He practically growled. She stopped screaming.

It was always worse when she stopped yelling, because when she yelled, you knew it was the worst she would do.

Sure, the noise was loud and unpleasant, but she wasn’t going to do any more than that. It was one thing for her to stop her rant, but interrupting her in the middle of it? You were already dead, man.

“What did you say to me, BRAT? Telling me to leave the place where my son died? How dare-” He expected Kirishima to show some sort of fear. She was using her menacing voice, which always meant she was going to hit someone, and nothing could stop her. Then again, he didn’t know her rules yet.

“You don’t CARE that he died, do you?” His tone was even, but menacing. But, much like Katsuki, nothing much scared Bakugou Mitsuki. He had no idea what he was getting into.

She must’ve been caught off guard, though, she only responded with laughter. A cold, mirthless laughter. “What does it matter to YOU anyway? I know for a fact no one would ever be ‘friends’ with Katsuki, so why do you care?” She was trying to get him to back down, so she didn’t have to show her true colours in front of everyone.

She would if she was backed into a corner, though. Katsuki REALLY hoped Kirishima wouldn’t be the one to back her into that corner…

“You don’t think so?” He laughed in the same tone as she did. It was even more unnerving in Katsuki’s eyes. “He has more friends than you think, apparently. More than I can even keep track of, it seems.” She looked shocked.

Old hag always hated him, not just for ruining her life, and her marriage, and whatever the hell else she thought was his fault, just happened to hate his personality as well. It was no wonder she couldn’t imagine him making friends. If he was being honest, he never really expected it either.

She didn’t talk back. That was BAD. Worse than any other reaction. She had the biggest mouth of anyone he’d ever met, even more than he was.

He had never been stupid enough to piss her off to the point where she didn’t have anything more to say to him, but, in recent times, he had learned never to underestimate Kirishima’s stupidity.

Hitting him harder than she ever had hit Katsuki before.

Because of his panic attack, he wasn’t thinking clearly. He should’ve thought of that a while ago. After all, he didn’t talk to his parents about his classmates or... their quirks.

Kirishima could fucking harden his body, so it wouldn’t affect him at all. He probably couldn’t even feel that she did anything, especially after his recent work with developing his quirk. It was odd that he knew to harden in advance, though.

Did he suspect that she would hit him, or was he just being paranoid? Did he figure out the real reason why Katsuki had such a high pain tolerance?

“I said, to leave.” Weirdly enough, she did. Went right back out the door she came through. He let out a huge breath, finally able to calm down after she left.

Everyone’s postures lost their immense tension. The thirteen kids and Aizawa were finally able to relax after dealing with his mom.

Was she going to make another move on him later, with fewer witnesses? There was no way she would back down just like that. He had enough experience with her plans to know that.

At least he was in the clear for a while.

That’s what he thought, anyway, until his teacher grabbed Kirishima’s shoulder, and he collapsed.

Jesus, he wasn’t kidding when he said how stupid Kirishima could be.

---

Now that it was all over, Eijirou realized how terrified that woman… that MONSTER made him.

The only thing keeping him from running from her was Bakugou’s reaction, and he couldn’t see that anymore, so he completely lost his nerve. Thank god she was already gone.

His legs turned to jelly, but he managed to stay upright. That was, until Aizawa put his hand on his shoulder, and he collapsed straight into his arms.

The 1-A students in the common room all gasped in surprise. Well, all but Bakugou. He just looked straight-up annoyed.

Aizawa seemed as stoical as ever, but his actions showed how concerned he was. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” No, of course she didn’t, he hardened easily. He probably didn’t see that though, since it was just on the top half of his head. It wasn’t really visible.

“Ah, I’m all good, just… shaken up? I think that’s the reason, anyway.” God, he was so stupid.

“Or, y’know, it could be the fact that you have a fucking head injury and Recovery girl SPECIFICALLY FUCKING told you not to use your quirk, especially around the most INJURED AREA ON YOUR BODY!” Mm, right. That could’ve been the cause too.

“Oh, yeah, it could be that too… good thinking.” He muttered, a bit too used to being able to talk to Bakugou directly without people listening. But, he happened to be in Aizawa’s arms at that very moment.

Confusion crossed his face for a moment, which was a long time to show emotion for Aizawa, as far as he knew. Although, he was finding out recently how little he knew about him in the grand scheme of things.

“What is that supposed to mean, Kirishima?” He was curious, but his worry about him obviously trumped that.

As unmanly as it was, he had to manipulate his teacher’s emotions in order to keep him from thinking that Eijirou was crazy. “What was what supposed to mean? Did I say something?”

That concerned him far more than Eijirou had intended. “We need to get you to recovery girl. She’ll be pissed at that woman for aggravating your head injury.” He forcefully dragged him out of the common room, into the nurse’s.

Referring to her as ‘that woman’ was an obvious sign that he didn’t respect her. Not Mitsuki, not Mrs. Bakugou, and most certainly NOT Bakugou’s mother. From the fairly obvious context Eijirou was given, it didn’t seem like she deserved that title.

Glued to his side, even more than Aizawa, was Bakugou. He seemed even closer than usual. Not physically, since that was sort of impossible, but he was on alert, watching his every breath.

Calmed down significantly, but he was still on guard, even more than he was against villains. Maybe, in his eyes, his mother was the worst villain of all. His father could’ve been too.

Recovery girl asked what had happened, and once Aizawa answered, she was fuming. Sure, she had been frustrated before, but furious? No. It probably should’ve made Eijirou even more scared of her, but he actually felt safer with her.

She wanted to press charges, but it would’ve worked in her favour, considering she was ‘the grief-stricken mother’. There was no justice, even with heroes around every turn. Honestly, he would think that his mother was to be cleared of all charges if he wasn’t there with them.

His head injuries were healed thanks to the school nurse’s quirk, and he was sent on his way. Despite his apprehension at first, Eijirou really needed to have a talk with Bakugou.

Chapter Text

They sat on Eijirou’s bed. (well, sit was a strong word in Bakugou’s case. More like hovering exactly on top of the sheets.) Both knew what was happening, but neither one wanted to start the conversation. Eijiro certainly didn’t have the nerve.

Nerve was something Bakugou took pride in having, though. “So, I’m guessing you have some questions, huh, moron?” Even in a serious moment, he couldn’t resist making fun.

Like a petulant child, or something. Yeah, that was probably the best way to describe him. A strong, genius, petty child.

“Just a few.” He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “The real question is, are you going to answer any of them?” It was a legitimate question, considering what he had probably been through.

Would he ever want to answer those questions that were building in Eijirou’s mind? “It depends.” It depends? That was vague. He didn’t continue.

“Depends? What does it depend on?” He asked. Bakugou sighed, considering how to answer.

“On whether I want to answer or not, dipshit.” Wow, how very specific. And ‘dipshit’? Really? A petulant child, indeed, apparently. One that Eijirou was proud to call his friend. “Seriously though,” Oh, so he was being serious now?

“If I don’t say anything, assume I’m either having a fucking panic attack, or I’m not gonna answer. In either case, just shut up and go on to the next question.” That seemed a little harsh for the ‘panic attack’ part of that statement. After seeing Bakugou just a half hour ago, he didn’t know whether Bakugou was kidding.

Nodding as confirmation, Eijirou started asking the questions. ‘If I don’t say anything… just shut up and go on to the next question’. Those were the rules given, but other than that, he gave no limit on what to ask.

“Does she always scream like that? And say things like that, too? Is it… normal for her?” Maybe he should’ve started with an easier question.

Seemingly, Bakugou didn’t think so. He didn’t look at all offended or anything, which was honestly unusual for him. He almost looked bored, like he was expecting something more difficult. “Yup. It’s fine, though. Yelling isn’t the worst thing she could do.”

Smart. With the way it was phrased, it could’ve meant that she hadn’t actually done anything physically harmful. Like yelling was bad, but she COULD have done worse. Was he just messing with him, or was he actually planning to answer the questions honestly?

Trial and error would allow Eijirou to figure it out eventually. He would just have to keep asking questions until then. “Does your father yell like that?”

An easier question, probably. He didn’t seem like the yelling type, just a cowardly enabler who didn’t know what the meaning of ‘manly’ was. Not many people did, those days. “Nah. He’d mostly just tell me how much a failure I was and stuff.” He said casually.

“WHAT?! You’re kidding, right?” Bakugou looked confused. Did he think calling someone a failure, even when it was your child was NORMAL? Eijirou really hoped he didn’t.

“Yeah, so?” He did. He actually did. “It’s not like he yelled it or anything. It was my fault anyway, for disappointing him.”

So, Masaru was that kind of person? A person so spineless they couldn’t be viewed as anything less than innocent. The kind of person who takes advantage of that, so they can subtly manipulate their child like a frog in hot water, so they wouldn’t even realize they were being manipulated.

---

Despite his rising anger and disappointment in his worthless parents, Eijirou continued. “Does he say anything else like that to you.” He didn’t verbally answer, but he still nodded. “Could you give some examples?” He shook his head.

Another non-verbal answer. It probably meant that he should move away from that line of questioning. He tried something a little lighter. “Where did you get all the money for the will? Your… parents” Eijirou hesitated in using that word, since they were closer to garbage.

“Said that you had gotten it all on your own, along with the lawyer. Was it from a family member or something?” Eijirou asked hesitantly. He didn’t want to set Bakugou off, but he didn’t know how to avoid that, either.

Unfazed was the best way to describe his friend’s face. Honestly, he was almost definitely expecting that question after the meeting with Mr. Satou. “I worked a lot.” He didn’t think he’d continue any further.

“Most of my parents’ actions were at least sorta understandable, but I never really got this one.” Wow, he was opening up without Eijirou needing to prod at him for too long.

“Basically, most of the time, they’d leave me alone. Too alone. They’d forget I existed for a couple o’ days, and I’d almost starve.” Jesus.

He paused for a minute, at Eijirou’s obviously concerned face. “I didn’t, obviously. It started when I was about… ten years old, maybe? So, I was old enough to do small jobs around the neighbourhood, mowing lawns and stuff. Started savin’ up the money I didn’t use for food, and with how many jobs I was doin’, there was a pretty big collection.”

Bakugou said it like starving was a thing every ten year-old had to worry about. “When I got older, they started getting more in my face, but I got fed just as little as before. The only difference was that they were keeping track of it.” This was when the anger was really going to start kicking in.

“I was thirteen, but I was tall enough to pass as a fourteen-year-old, so I worked at actual jobs at however many places didn’t bother to check my age. I didn’t really have time to study or anythin’, but because of my shitty-ass school, I still made valedictorian.”

Impressive as fuck, sure, but it was still wrong. “Then the entrance exam for UA happened, and I had about 50 million yen saved up, since my uncle left me a ton after he died. Maybe more.” Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

Five million yen? He really wasn’t kidding when he said how hard he’d worked himself! “Wait, your lawyer said you gave everything you owned in your will! How did you only end up with 20 million?” Eijirou felt scandalized. Did his lawyer steal from Bakugou?

“Congratulations, you can do basic math, but not have a single brain cell.” He drawled sarcastically. “The lawyer and making that will cost a bunch, plus, my parents refused to pay for my tuition, no matter how fucking wealthy they are.”

“You could charge them for neglect, and… abuse?” He nodded solemnly, lifting the tank top he had been in since he had appeared before Eijirou. It was littered with scars, bruises and burns that didn’t have the chance to heal.

“There’d be no point.” He didn’t want to hear that. “They’d win. I can’t testify while I’m dead, and even if you pulled my dead body in front of the jury, they could attribute it to the damage from the villain fight.” The fact that he was completely right pissed him off.

That didn’t make sense to Eijirou. Then again, nothing much was making sense to him at that point. Why wouldn’t his parents pay for his tuition to UA? He had most of it covered anyway since he came number one in the hero course entrance exams. Why wouldn’t they endorse a child with such a bright future?

Look at him, eighteen, second ranking in the class, (after he managed to best Iida in their written exam) in the running for strongest hero, and almost certainly going to end up in the top ten after graduation.

Who wouldn’t love him? “They’re insane for not supporting you. You’re… you’re just amazing, Katsuki.” Oops.

Idiot. A complete and utter idiot. Why the hell would he call him by his given name? It was total impulse, he shouldn’t have said any of that.

Kat- Bakugou stifled a laugh. “Aww, you said Katsuki~ how sweet.” He taunted. “Should I be calling you Eijirou now?” He flushed and stumbled with his words. If he brought it up later, then he’d probably blame it on the concussion. It still hurt like a son of a bitch, even after Recovery girl’s help.

“I- I mean, I, yeah, if you- y’know... sure.” He muttered almost unintelligibly. It caused him to howl with laughter, practically gasping for breath that he didn’t need. Actually… did he need it? Oh god, he needed Todoroki for this ‘theory’ stuff.

“Smooth.” He said, completely deadpan, faking a swoon, falling into Eijirou’s arms. Well, more like falling THROUGH them, but he still felt it.

The chill used to be unpleasant, but now, it was comforting. Familiar. Really, when he thought about it, he hadn’t touched Ka-Bakugou in a week. For most people, they never got to touch him in a lifetime, but Eijirou hardly even thought about it anymore.

He realized just how unnatural it was to not be touching him for that long. Casual touches like brushing shoulders, and training, to more serious contact like hugging, laying on each other’s laps, and the occasional cuddle. They’d always be within a few feet of each other since the new seating arrangement came.

Now that he thought about that, It was totally weird how many close friends he put together. Tsu and Tokoyami, Kyouka and Denki, Mina and Hanta, Todoroki and Midoriya, and he and Bakugou. It was unlike him to pair so many people that liked each other together.

“Y’know, I don’t hate it.” What? That was rare, but what was he talking about. “You callin’ me by my actual name.” Oh.

That was… nice.

Chapter Text

Huh. Katsuki. That…

Worked. Normally, breaking down enough of his walls to call him by his given name would be next to impossible. But, from Eijirou, it just felt… right? He didn’t know how to describe it. It was like how the universe thought it should be. Katsuki.

Although, he could tell it was an accident. The ‘oops’ was written all over his face, his head screaming an alarm, scrambling to make an excuse that sounded plausible, but coming up short.

Sure, Katsuki hated his family name, considering it lumped him in with his shit bag parents, but it wasn’t like he’d just let everyone call him by his given name. That’s be super weird and uncomfortable. In fact, no one outside his family and his childhood ‘friends’ actually called him Katsuki.

Even Deku, whom he had known since he was a toddler still didn’t technically call him by his given name. Not a single person.

How the hell had this dumbass rock slipped past his defences without even realizing they were up in the first place? And why couldn’t Katsuki bring himself to put them back up, push him up, or hell, even tell him they existed in the first place? Where was the justice?

Smart-assing was the only thing he was any good at, like his mother had always said, so he played to his strengths, like he always did. “Aww, you said Katsuki~ how sweet.”

Sass slipped out naturally from him, what could he say? “Should I be calling you Eijirou now?” Katsuki tried to cover up the fact that he was completely genuine in asking that with a plastered-on smug look. It wasn’t too conspicuous-looking either considering how often he made that very same, very fake face.

He fumbled with his words for a minute before managing to spew out something that vaguely reassembled words.“I-I mean, I yeah, if you- y’know. Sure.” He thanked all the gods that he didn’t believe in that he didn’t have any blood to rush to his face.

Seriously, did Kirishima just approve of Katsuki calling him ‘Eijirou’? He totally thought that he would be too flustered to say anything that could be interpreted as approval.

The fumbling-over-words thing was funny as hell though, so he ignored the rest of those thoughts to laugh his ass off about that.

As cute- uh, awesome, uh, manly, cool as his FRIEND was, he had not a tactful bone in his muscle-bound body. Not that Katsuki could talk, but at least he took pride in that fact. After he managed to calm down enough, completely deadpan, (Icyhot style) he said; “Smooth.” And caused Ei-Kirishima to turn completely red.

Adorable was the only word that came to mind looking at him. Goddamn it. He just wanted to be able to touch him again. He missed that.

Finding an excuse to touch him didn’t take too long. He just needed to keep up with the ‘teasing Kirishima’ facade. He faked swooning to fall into his arms. Of course, that was impossible, but it was worth it to know he was causing some sort of physical reaction from Kirishima with his presence.

If that meant his head fell straight through Kirishima’s bedroom floor, breaking a tile with his poltergeist presence, then so be it. It definitely scared the living hell out of the poor guy living underneath him.

When he popped back up, Kirishima looked deep in thought. He had seemed to be thinking a lot more around that time. It wasn’t a dig at his intelligence or anything, but it was obvious how much he trailed off into his thoughts.

Obvious to Katsuki, at least.

“Y’know, I don’t hate it. You callin’ me by my actual name.” Oh, god. Why did he have to go and say something stupid like that?

\\\

"Why do you always have to go and ruin things brat? Just keep your goddamn mouth shut for once!" He should've just shut up for once. He accepted his mother's beating without fussing for the first time since she had started hitting him.

///

He tried to hide his terrified expression, but Kirishima always knew when something was wrong with him. “Woah, you okay?” 

No. He was never okay after those damn memories came back. If he wasn’t a ghost, he’d probably be throwing up at that point. He hated everything about those stupid… things. “I’M FUCKING FINE, SHITTY HAIR!” 

He really had to ruin everything good, didn’t he? Katsuki always got really defensive and scared after his nightmares and the things he called ‘daymares’. Shinsou called them ‘flashbacks’, but they agreed to disagree. How could the great Bakugou Katsuki have PTSD?

“Okay. Do you need anything?” He… he needed good touch, not painful touch. He needed Eijirou’s contact, but that wasn’t a possibility because he’d gone and got himself killed!

Most of all though, he needed him to keep caring, even when he pushed him away, like he always seemed to do. Why he cared even though Katsuki had shouted at him was a mystery, but he was grateful nonetheless.

“I just… remembered something I didn’t want to remember, that’s all.” Ah, Kirishima still looked upset. Katsuki hurt someone else, what a surprise. Who expected it? “I’m sorry…”

Apologizing wasn’t something he planned on doing, but Kirishima always seemed to bring out something in him that he didn’t expect. Katsuki wanted to apologize, sure, but he had never done so before, on any occasion. Probably one of the reasons he couldn’t keep friends for longer than a month.

Sticking with him was always a quality Kirishima had. “Aww! You apologized for something. I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, though.” He was too nice.

“Eijirou! What the hell happened to your floorboard? Are you okay?” Dunce-face always knew how to ruin a moment, didn’t he?

---

Denki had been wallowing in his sadness. I mean, could you blame him? His friend of almost two whole years had just died.

Until the funeral, he had been denying that it had even happened. Both him and Mina, along with a few others were completely surprised after seeing Bakugou’s body, shot straight through the chest.

He hadn’t come out of his room for an entire day. Nobody seemed to care, so why should he? So what if it was noon already? It wasn’t like he had anything important to do. Really, was anything important anymore? He had been having thoughts like that for almost four days.

Shinsou said that those were called ‘existential crises’, but since he couldn’t pronounce that, he just called them mid-life crisises. (yes, he didn’t know the plural form of crisis, so sue him.)

With the career path he had chosen, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the middle of his life. Hell, he could’ve had the middle of his life when he was still a kid. 

Denki never really thought about his death or wills, or any of the logistics (as usual) until witnessing his dead friend’s preparations. No one wanted to think about death’s inevitability, but Bakugou had always had more balls than the rest of his classmates combined (Not including Todoroki).

Not only did he face the fact that he would die head-on, without even talking about the stress of it, but he willingly put himself between a civilian and a bullet.

That was the story Nedzu had told them. There was an immobilized bystander, who was faced with a gun by one of the more ferocious villains after an intense fight. Bakugou saw it happening, and dived in to save them.

The school principal didn’t say who it was, spewing shit like; ‘we wouldn’t want to make them relive the trauma they have been through.’

Maybe the bullet went straight through him, still managing to kill the person who Bakugou attempted to save, making his sacrifice in vain, just killing them both. That would be a good reason why he didn’t tell them everything.

What was he going to say? “Sorry your angry friend died, and the person he was protecting died too, so he basically killed himself for no reason! We have money from his will for you, though.”

Sounded great, didn’t it? Denki let out a bitter laugh. It broke into a hysterical giggle fit, then broken sobs.

Eijirou was still in his room, just above Denki. He hoped he didn’t have to hear that. It was practically common knowledge that he and Midoriya were taking everything the hardest. He didn’t need to hear his pathetic sobs on top of everything else.

Might’ve even tried to help him, and ask what was wrong. Eijirou had always been like that. Putting other’s feelings before his own, pretending like he didn’t even exist. 

That thought just made him cry even harder. He tried his best to keep it as silent as possible. If anything, Eijirou was making more noise upstairs than he was. It was unlike him to be so rowdy, even while talking to his (obvious crush) best friend.

Dead best friend. He was dead. Denki had to keep repeating that in his head, trying desperately to accept it. ‘He’s dead. Bakugou Katsuki is dead. He’s not coming back, he’ll never come back.’

Sinking even further into his bedsheets was the only thing he wanted to do, but he was pretty sure that was impossible, considering that he could barely breathe because of how tightly they were wrapped around him. ‘The burrito blanket technique’ Mina had called it.

Then, his ceiling collapsed, just narrowly missing his head. His leg hurt like hell though. Biting back a scream, he realized that Eijirou lived above him.

Meaning that, Eijirou had broken his floorboard. What was he doing up there? Was he… hurting himself?

Without thinking, he ran straight out his door. He intended to run straight up the stairs to Eijirou’s room, but he was stopped by a very worn-out looking Jirou. He really wasn’t expecting her to be there.

Surprise at seeing her, yeah, that was why his heart started beating faster upon seeing her. The only reason.

“Jeez, I didn’t expect you to come out of your room today. Have… have you showered man?” Her voice, for once, was nonjudgmental, which was weird considering the invasive question she was asking him. Sure, he was grieving, and he showered less, but he still had basic hygiene.

“I didn’t put product in my hair, that’s all.” She looked almost worried. That was another weird thing happening with Kyouka in one day. He knew her well enough to recognize those things.

“Wait, why didn’t you think I would come out of my room?” Sure, he wasn’t actually planning on it, but how could she presume to know his intentions?

She hesitated, and for a hot minute, he thought she would just leave him alone for once. But, that was never an option for her. “With everything that happened… I wasn’t gonna leave either. Not until I heard that loud noise from upstairs.” She said, gesturing to directly above… 

Denki’s room. Eijirou’s floorboard. Damn his ADHD! He bolted up the stairs, not even bothering to leave Kyouka in a civilized way.

Barging into his friend’s room without knocking, he worriedly shouted to him. “Eijirou! What the hell happened to your floorboard? Are you okay?” Of course, he was fine.

After checking around the room, he didn’t even see a broken floorboard. And Eijirou was blushing like an idiot, mumbling something to a nonexistent person. Even for the dumbass (not that Denki was one to talk) that was his friend, this was fucking weird.

Chapter Text

Explaining things to Denki should’ve been easy, it really should’ve. He could’ve said ‘Oh, the floor must’ve just given out.’ or something along those lines. So many lies he could’ve come up with. Hundreds upon thousands.

But Eijirou was shit at hiding things, wasn’t he? If he was any good, Todoroki and Shinsou wouldn’t have found out about Bakugou in less than five minutes of them seeing each other. Those discussions didn’t last very long, and he didn’t expect this one to either.

“Eijirou! What the hell happened to your floorboard? Are you okay?” Fuck. Nothing came out of his mouth. His stupid head injury, man.

“Umm… where is the broken floorboard?” Broken… floorboard? “Yeah… the floorboard that is… broken? It made a huge noise, and it came from your room. Since you live above me, and all.” Shit, did he say that out loud?

“Yeah, you did.” Ah. Head injuries. “Eijirou, what’s going on?” Well, that was not specific. There were so many things going on, what? Was he just supposed to recount every event that had happened? When should he start?

What had happened just that day, what had happened that week, what had gone wrong in his entire school year and more? Did he mean emotional, physical or mental? He didn’t know which would give them more to talk about. “Katsuki died.” Way to state the obvious.

“He’s… he’s Katsuki now?” Eijirou kind of forgot about that part. “And, I meant… what happened with the floorboards? Not, not that.” He muttered. This was probably the most awkward conversations they ever had.

“Didn’t know the floorboard was broken.” Denki let out a soft ‘oh’. They stood there in silence for a few agonizingly slow moments.

“Sorry.” Katsuki was the one talking. Apologizing twice in one day? That must’ve been a record or something. Why did he feel the need to apologize, though? More importantly, what the hell did he manage to do? “When I fell through the bed, I broke the floor. Didn’t know Dunce Face lived below you.”

Motherfucker. “You managed to break my fucking floor while making fun of me? Not cool, dude!” Eijirou shouted, though not actually angry at him. He just wanted Denki to leave.

It wasn’t personal, of course. He absolutely loved his idiot friend, but he was being a total third-wheel while he and Katsuki were having an actual intimate moment for the first time in what felt like forever. Not that by ‘third-wheel’ he was implying something romantic was happening between them, but it was just private.

Even as he was thinking that, Denki was listening in on the conversation he was having with him. “You goddamn idiot, he can’t see me!” Yeah? He knew that.

Oh. Oooooh. “Dude, who are you talking to?” Katsuki looked at him with disbelief. He remembered that Denki could only hear one half of the conversation he was a part of. “Is there someone else here?”

“Shitty hair, just stay calm, cool, and collected, no need to panic, alright? Just laugh it off and say you were talking to yourself.” He spoke through gritted teeth, obviously trying to stop himself from blowing off a head with poltergeist-power or something. He just came off even scarier.

Simple plan, easy to execute. But, then again, a concussed idiot who sucked at lying could screw even the simplest things right up. “Yup.”

Denki would’ve probably written it off as a joke and let it go if Eijirou had just laughed and gone on with the conversation. But, he came off sounding completely genuine. Maybe he should’ve just offered to fix the floor and went on with his day.

Maybe he could’ve done a lot of not stupid things. His Pikachu-inspired friend looked concerned for his sanity.

Insanity was something Eijirou was still considering he was suffering from. If he was completely sound in his sanity, he probably wouldn’t have gone to the villain hideout raid in the first place; should’ve known he wasn’t strong, fast, or smart enough to last against even the most small-time villains.

“There’s someone else in here? Are they a villain? Are you okay?” Right, Denki was more of an idiot than anyone else he knew. He still had a chance to convince him that the floorboard just happened to collapse.

Playing dumb was his only option. “What? Someone else in here? Who said that?” Not that dumb. He could almost hear Katsuki’s internal rage.

Denki cocked his head to the side out of confusion. “You did bro. Is your head injury acting up? I should take you to the nurse!” He announced with purity in his eyes. His naivety credulity was frankly unbelievable, and heart-warming. It made Eijirou feel terrible about lying to him.

Meanwhile, Katsuki facepalmed, looking done with the world. Honestly though, he could really do with another checkup. Sure, he had one just fifteen-ish minutes ago, but he didn’t feel any better. That was probably worth reporting.

“Thanks bro! I probably need that.” Katsuki’s head perked up at that. Eijirou immediately regretted telling Denki that he needed to go to the nurse’s, since it seemed to make them both worry.

“What the hell are you talking about? We were just there, weren’t we?” It sounded like he was genuinely asking. His sense of time must’ve been distorted since he died. No longer needing to sleep, eat, drink or use the bathroom would throw just about everyone off their schedule, especially with Katsuki.

Despite his unpredictability in reactions and demeanour, Katsuki was a creature of habit. A set schedule and style of doing things that never varied. He wasn’t even fully aware of what he was doing. Eijirou had noticed, though.

Creepy as that sounded, but it really wasn’t! He only knew about it because of how often they hung around each other. He’d prepare for sleeping at exactly 7:48pm, finish at 8pm on the dot, wake up at 4:30am, do his morning jog for exactly 1 hour and 34 minutes, eat the same breakfast of oatmeal with a pinch of brown sugar- okay, maybe it was a little creepy.

---

Shouta was normally talking his afternoon nap by 12:20, after he ate his lunch, but he didn’t do either of those.

The paste-like sustenance (Hizashi banned him from calling it ‘food’) in its silver pouch remained untouched, and it wasn’t because of its repulsive ‘flavour’ that even prisons wouldn’t touch. It was actually supposed to be wheat flavoured, which was the best kind.

Events of that noon played in his head. Even just trying to file a charge on her would be a futile attempt. The jury would be on a grieving mother’s side instantly, and that was if they had any evidence.

Sure, the cameras were on when she whacked Kirishima over his previously damaged head, but there were countless excuses to counter that.

‘It would’ve been a harmless swat’, ‘he probably had it coming’, ‘how do you know the decline in his recovery had to do with her’, ‘she was grieving’, ‘you would understand if you had children’. All complete bullshit, but their legal system was fucked.

Even on the off chance they won, it wasn’t actually the case that Shouta really yearned to pursue. The nagging, uneasy feeling he had about Bakugou Mitsuki was the same intuition he had with Endeavour.

After the time Shouto came to him after school, crying, and admitting the truth about his father’s abuse, he figured out why Endeavour unnerved him so much.

‘The good dad instinct’ was what Hizashi deemed it was. That annoying, persistent feeling gnawing at him was the intuition that always came with an abusive parent. He had suspected this after seeing that woman in person, but it was all but confirmed when she had hit Kirishima so naturally.

Thinking that about any of his students was as repulsive as Hizashi believed the uneaten, wheat-flavoured paste in a pouch was. Bakugou, the strong-willed, tough-as-nails kid who claimed fearlessness.

The kid who never asked for help from anyone. How would he have gotten through so many years without anyone’s support? That question almost made him doubt that it had happened. Getting through that would’ve been impossible. No...

Correction: It would’ve been impossible for anyone except Bakugou. He was stronger, stronger than any of his classmates. Not necessarily in power, but in sheer force of will. Stronger than anyone his age. Hell, stronger than most people older than that. His goals were clear in his mind, and he could push himself to any length to accomplish those goals.

Still, no matter how much he could handle, no child should’ve been raised in that sort of environment. It made sense how Bakugou turned out.

For example, at the provisional licensing exam, he had been told how Bakugou yelled at young children. He thought that was normal. The thought made him sick. How could any parent do that to their child? No, how could any PERSON do that to ANYONE?

Recovery was just as pissed as Shouta, if not, more so. She didn’t have any kids, hazard of the job and all, but she adored children. That much was obvious from a quick glance around her office.

Band-aids with different cartoon characters on them, an entire jar filled with popular candy brands and gummies, suckers for ‘good patients’ (even though she gave them to everyone who walked into her office, whether they were bratty or not even being treated) and rows of pictures of her nieces and nephews.

Once she heard what Bakugou Mitsuki had done to her concussed and traumatized patient, she went off the rails with her rage. It wasn’t her normal ‘Midoriya broke his FUCKING bones again, Shouta!’ rage, but actual fury, the ‘I wish I could kill her, Shouta!’ kind of fury.

“Do you think she did that to other children? Imagine if she had a child of her own.” He hadn’t told her that it was Bakugou’s poor excuse for a mother yet. It wasn’y like there was anything they could do about it.

As far as Shouta knew, there was no viable evidence. Bakugou couldn’t testify even if he wasn’t so stubborn that he would never admit what happened between him and his parents, you know, since he was DEAD, there weren’t any unexplainable scars on his body, according to the autopsy. (though there were several burns and bruises, but it could’ve been other damage from the villain fight)

Most importantly, Bakugou was an only child. There was no one to put her in jail for. All that would be given was a sense of selfish satisfaction that they took down someone who abused a kid who happened to be dead.

Fuming still, Recovery girl paced around the room, ranting about the injustice in the world. “Give me a name and I SWEAR, I’ll kill that bitch, Shouta!”

The door clicked open, revealing a surprised-looking Kaminari and Kirishima. “Maybe you shouldn’t swear around the kids, Chiyo.” He said with a smirk. She smacked his arm and rushed over to the younger redhead being bridal-carried by his older, idiotic friend.

Why was he back here? “Kirishima… your head is bleeding.” Ah.

That’d do it.

Chapter Text

He should’ve known. After so many visits to shady, shitty hospitals, Katsuki should’ve recognized the symptoms of wound dehiscence.

Usually, his mother would hit him a bit too hard, and he would have to go get stitches, and since he didn’t want to be found out, he’d go to hospitals that were on the down-low, run-down, and unhygienic. Probably the kind of place that criminals, anorexics, and people running from foster care went to recover.

Healing was bound to be interrupted by wound dehiscence some time, thanks to idiotic doctors who got the lowest scores in their crappy med schools who couldn’t even do simple stitches properly.

Every sign had been right there. Eijirou had been complaining of feeling feverish, holding his head while wincing in pain, and saying how red his head had been under his mass of hair. Tips he could’ve shared to reduce the risk ran through his mind.

Malnutrition. Katsuki vaguely registered that Eijirou hadn’t been eating properly. Forgetting or skipping meals, he was upset and going through a lot, so it wasn’t unreasonable, really. Lifting heavy objects and too much exercise. The damn box Icyhot made him carry must’ve strained him more than he thought. And the worst part of it…

Reopening of the wound due to a second injury in the same place. His quirk tended to get weaker when he was injured or unfocused, and concussions checked both boxes. With her hard hits and his weakened state, of COURSE it happened.

Frantically, Mr. Aizawa and Recovery girl ran forward to grab him, and Kaminari held him tighter, looking at his friend’s bleeding head. “Kaminari, please let go of him. We have to help him!” She shouted, all but prying Kirishima away from the dumbstruck boy.

Help him, huh? Help him while Katsuki stood there, unable to do anything while his friend was bleeding out of his head.

Because of the head injury that Katsuki couldn’t protect him from, all because he died while trying to protect him from a bigger threat. So focused on the most threatening things that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him,

Always the same with him, wasn’t it? Going after the biggest villain, ignoring everything else around him, letting everyone he cared about get hurt by the extras he neglected to notice. Pathetic, wasn’t he?

“What the hell happened to him?” Aizawa asked, probably too loud for someone with a moderately severe concussion. What did he think had happened? A car crash? He had a fucking head injury, was he daft or something? “He was here just a few minutes ago, what happened? Didn’t you heal him?” Oh, that part.

That still eluded him. “I wasn’t focused enough. I rapidly heal, but that doesn’t work when there’s an infection. I was too caught up in my anger to check his stitches. And, I didn’t work on his sutures, it must’ve been some amateur doctor!” She responded with an obvious, seething fury in her tone. Probably in both the doctor who worked on Eijirou and herself.

Infection. A fucking infection. He should’ve known. Every single sign was there in front of him. After a while without proper treatment from a doctor, he had dizziness, unnatural fatigue, even after multiple naps and long rests, and nausea. That’s why he hadn’t eaten properly, which made it even worse.

Katsuki spent every single fucking day for a whole week with him and didn’t notice anything. “Idiot. Idiot!” He grunted and yelled and tore at his hair while a million horrible thoughts rushed through his head.

What if he died because of Katsuki’s stupidity? What the hell was he supposed to do if that happened?

Realizing that he was spiralling, Katsuki used some breathing techniques to calm himself down. “Hey, I’m fine.” Eijirou. Eijirou was responsive and trying to comfort him.

At least that’s what he assumed he was doing. He might’ve been talking to one of the teachers or Kaminari, but he certainly FELT comforted. Maybe it was stupid to believe things would be okay, but Katsuki always seemed to be soothed by him.

“You’re most certainly not fine, young man! Your wound is infected and your stitches opened.” Recovery girl lectured. That was definitely not as comforting.

Katsuki muttered to himself, trying to reassure himself that Eijirou would be okay, but he didn’t know that for certain. “It’s just wound dehiscence, it can be treated, it’s not too late.” Repeating it over and over like a mantra, he believed about it less and less, panicking more.

“Dehiscence?” Aizawa and Recovery girl looked up at him in surprise. Katsuki was only surprised the idiot could pronounce it properly on the first try. He tried to recover from the out-of-the-blue self-diagnosis. “Um, that’s uh… what I have, right?” At least he could guess that it was related to his health.

“That’s right. How did you know that?” He could practically see him break out in a nervous sweat.

“Lucky guess?” Idiot. Idiot. IDIOT!

“Could you sound more uncertain, Shitty Hair?! Ugh, wound dehiscence; is a condition where a cut made during a surgical procedure separates or ruptures after it has been stitched back together." "Wow, that was like, a dictionary definition." He said, surprised. "No fucking shit Sherlock, it was literally the exact definition." He explained irritably. He had the nerve to laugh. "Seriously? When did you have the time to memorize that? No, why did you in the first place?" He whispered, probably as to not alert the already concerned teacher (and nurse) in the room. Really, Katsuki didn't want to answer that. He didn't want to relive the shitty doctors and horrible self-treatments out loud like he already did in his head. For once, luck was on his side and Eijirou was dragged away by the nurse into the surgery room. "I'm going to be okay." He was trying so hard to be reassuring even while he was bleeding out of his head. Though he said it to Kaminari, it was clearly directed at Katsuki. He didn't know what he'd do if he wasn't okay. --- The panic overwhelmed Denki. Would his friend be okay? The fact that they had made it to the nurse's so quickly alleviated some of that fear, but he needed a distraction. Thankfully, Aizawa was still around. In the fear, someone had knocked over tons of bottles filled with medicine or something, and he picked them up to do something with his hands, and Aizawa quickly joined him. He awkwardly attempted to make conversation, to take both of their minds off of the intense situation. "So, weird that all this was knocked over." He could tell his teacher was suppressing an eye roll. "It's almost like a poltergeist was here." He said with a nervous chuckle. Aizawa stopped picking the bottles up. "Y-y'know, because they can affect tangible objects?" Aizawa looked back at him, stunned. He stopped picking up the many bottles scattered across the floor. “I-I’m sorry, I was just kidding. I didn’t mean to upset you or anything.” He said anxiously. Aizawa smiled. Actually smiled for the first time since Denki had met him.

“It’s fine, it actually… made sense.” What made sense? That poltergeists could affect tangible objects? Upon seeing the confused look on Denki’s face, he continued to vaguely explain. “I think I know why Kirishima’s been acting strangely.” Way too vague.

“So, you’ve noticed it too? Do you think it has to do with…” He desperately willed back his tears. “With Bakugou?”

Vulnerable wasn’t really Denki’s thing. Sure, he was pretty honest and open, but he didn’t do emotional vulnerability. Denki couldn’t remember the last time he openly cried in front of other people.

“Something along those lines, probably. But… not what you’re thinking.” He finished equivocally. Aizawa put an arm around Denki’s shoulder.

It had been a while since Denki felt he was in a safe enough place to openly cry. His parents weren’t the worst or anything, but his dad was obsessed with masculinity, so no crying, nothing so ‘girly’.

Ingrained in him since he was a child, there was no way he would do anything like that. He was so afraid he’d break down in front of everyone in his class that he holed himself up in his room for days. No matter how much Mina would go on about how sucky emotional repression was, he never took it to heart.

Like Sero said, ‘repression goes down, depression comes up’. But for some reason, he had never felt safer than he did while crying in Aizawa’s arms. “It’s going to be okay.” He didn’t say it in a patronizing voice as most people did but in a serious, matter of fact tone.

“You’d make a great father, y’know. Very reassuring.” He chuckled humourlessly. Aizawa muttered something like ‘little do you know’ ominously.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart. “I think what’s been going on with Kirishima is…” He hesitated. He never hesitated. Denki prepared himself for a stupid and/or sad answer. Though, with Aizawa, he was pretty damn sure it’d be “Talking to a ghost.”

Oh, shit.

Stupid answer it is. How unexpected.

Chapter Text

“I got some pretty good news from Kirishima.” That smirk. He knew. Shouto was absolutely sure of it. He grabbed Shinsou’s arm and yanked him to the nearest empty hallway.

Aizawa looked like he wanted to follow them, and he tried, but he left just before they reached their destination for some reason. Shinsou had a shit-eating grin on his face. He knew what they were going to discuss the minute Shouto looked at him

How did he find out in the first place? Was Kirishima handing out that information like candy? Or was he just that bad at keeping secrets? His bet was on the former since slipping up enough that both he and Shinsou figured it out was basically impossible. No matter what they had discovered, it could’ve been easily avoided with good enough lies.

Then again, the fact that Shinsou was obviously trying to be covert about the whole ‘Bakugou is a poltergeist’ thing in front of Aizawa. Why would he try to hide that if Kirishima was so keen on revealing that to everyone? In fear of sounding crazy, maybe.

Maybe there was another possibility that he wasn’t considering. “So, how did you figure it out? Did Bakugou beat you up too?” He asked in his usual, monotone voice. Shinsou started choking on his own spit.

Amused or shocked, he couldn’t really tell. Maybe a bit of both. Shouto wasn’t really an expert in emotional intelligence. “He beat you up? Dude, that’s not even possible.” He asked incredulously.

Confusion was written all over his face, even Shouto could pick it up. “Of course it’s possible. He’s a poltergeist, so he can push me around and stuff.” Shinsou gaped at him, and it made even him feel awkward. “Didn’t Kirishima tell you that? Or, were you too busy getting some horizontal refreshments from him?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Staring at him blankly, Shinsou was obviously trying to figure out what he meant. “It’s a euphemism for sex.” He nodded appreciatively, before looking even more confused. He sighed. “I’ve been hanging out with Bakugou too much. He wrote an entire website on sexual euphemisms, and I memorized the whole thing.”

“That’s weird, but not surprising.” Fair enough, considering how often Bakugou talked about that sort of thing. Bakugou was most certainly the most impure person he knew, and definitely not a virgin. “How many did he put on there?” He asked apprehensively.

Aware it would be a huge number, he asked anyway. There was a very fine line between bravery and stupidity, and Shinsou had just crossed it. Don’t ask questions that you don’t want the answers to. “762.” As it turns out, Shinsou wasn’t finished choking on his own saliva for that day.

“Memorizing all of that? Impossible.” Nothing was impossible, especially when Shouto sought out ways to express just how much he wanted to have sex with Midoriya to Bakugou when their broccoli-haired friend was still around.

“My personal favourite was gland-to-gland combat. The website has garnered quite a bit of attention. It’s fairly impressive, actually.” It was true. He even went and put them in alphabetical order. It must’ve taken weeks to put together. Actually, considering how many Bakugou seemed to have on hand, it probably took about 45 minutes.

“Gland-to-gland- what? Jesus. How did you find out? Kirishima didn’t mention.” He asked, still stuck on the mention of the website Bakugou had made.

“Conspiracy theory. I worked on it for a while, then confronted Kirishima about it, and miraculously, it happened to be right.” He explained simply. “I could ask you the same question, Shinsou.”

Shinsou paused before giving the driest laugh he had ever heard. “I was working on another theory.” He showed Shouto his phone, on the contact labeled ‘Blasty Snacc’. “Secret besties. Makes sense, I guess. How did you get the ‘Bakugou’s a ghost’ part from that.

“I didn’t, but Kirishima told me after I brainwashed him. He probably would have ended up letting it slip anyhow, he has a head injury. And, he’s too used to being honest to keep his mouth shut.” Brainwashing?

“Misusing your quirk on purpose?” Shinsou shrugged, shrinking into himself. “Finally. Takes guts to do that. I’m glad you’re finally comfortable enough with your quirk to do something with it outside of training.” He said genuinely. Shinsou had always been told since he was a child that his quirk was ‘villainous’ by his parents and past classmates.

Shouto honestly didn’t expect Shinsou to overcome that any time soon, or that it would be a gruesome and untimely death that triggered it. “Yeah, it was kind of badass, wasn’t it? Midoriya did say… never mind.” Of course, Midoriya always had something to do with sorting out people’s issues.

Scrolling through the phone to check the previous text, he came upon a photo he neither wanted to see nor knew existed.

Sleeping on a mattress next to a couple of mugs, were Shouto and Midoriya, practically clinging onto one another, spooning. “HOW DID YOU GET THIS?” He shouted, actually using expressions and volume. Shinsou burst out laughing.

Showing him the photo was a mistake since it completely distracted him from the question. Rolling around on the floor, he wheezed, looking like he was close to dying from lack of oxygen.

When he finally calmed down enough to speak, he spoke up again. “Kirishima sent it to me. Brilliant idea to take the picture.” Well, that didn’t make much sense to him. His confusion must’ve actually shown up on his face since Shinsou continued. “Is that weird or something?”

Their conspiracy instincts kicked in at the same time. “Did Bakugou tell him to send the picture to you? Or maybe even take them in the first place? And how did Kirishima get his phone?” Shinsou looked up at him expectantly.

“In his will… didn’t you get a theory kit?” Shouto didn’t question how he could’ve found that out.

“Oh, I certainly did. And it’s much more than just a kit.” He bragged, already dragging him to his dorm room. The box stood in front of his bed. He would’ve brought it further if he didn’t feel like his arms were going to give out. Mr. Satou had to send it in a moving truck, which Bakugou could somehow afford.

Shinsou viewed it with awe. “That is one huge son of a-” He got cut off by the door opening behind them, revealing a tired-looking Midoriya. Shouto covered his almost-brother’s mouth to stop him from sullying Midoriya’s purity with the inevitable cuss.

“Hey Sho, could I talk to you in my dorm room?” He looked at Shinsou and his face flushed a bright red. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Practically shoving him aside, Shotuo squeaked out a no, and just about ran out of the door beside Midoriya. Hitoshi waved a goodbye with a smirk on his face, walking right back down to his floor.

---

Those two were so obvious, but yet, neither of them were aware of the other’s feelings or their own. Oblivious and sickeningly in love; a nausea-inducing combination in Hitoshi’s rom-com hating opinion. He just wanted to smash them together like barbies to make them kiss.

Despite his annoyance at both the unresolved sexual and romantic tension between Midoriya and Shouto and the interruption to their conspiracy brainstorm, he went and rushed downstairs to his dorm room floor, the fourth.

Right next to Bakugou’s room. Or… what used to be his room. He stalled outside that room, just staring at it. ‘Will he ever be able to live in this room again?’

Shaking the thought from his mind, he continued to his room. Hitoshi wasn’t sure why his adoptive father put him in the empty room next to Bakugou’s. There more than a couple vacant spaces, so why next to him? Did he build the floor around the people who could deal with a loud and angry roommate?

Surprisingly enough, he never really bothered any of them. Usually asleep by 8:00pm and fairly silent whilst in his room. Though he had to admit, none of them would care if he did.

Not being able to sleep either way, there was Hitoshi, who didn’t have the energy to complain or care, Kirishima didn’t have a malicious bone in his body, especially not when it came to Bakugou. And mild-mannered with a very high tolerance for annoyances, there was Shouji.

Speaking of the octopus-themed hero, he just happened to grab Hitoshi’s shoulder before he entered the room to the left of Bakugou’s.

The two had never been too close, though he knew Bakugou pretty well, as the rest of the Emosquad did, so he was confused why he so suddenly had the desire to speak to him. But, there was an unspoken code between the two to inform each other if something bad or important had happened. He hoped it was just important.

“What’s up?” His casual tone betrayed the anxiety gnawing at him. Shouji hesitated. Couldn’t he just get to the point already?

“We should… discuss things in a less open area.” Less open? This was one of the floors with the least nosy people. (Though Mina and Urara-something-or-other were on the other side of the floor.) It must’ve been important.

Reluctantly, he walked back towards the direction of the stairs heading to Shouji’s room.

Recently, he had added other things to his minimalist room, including a second chair. No clutter or anything, but just enough so that he could invite someone over to study without them both having to suffer through sitting on the hardwood floor. Hitoshi was extremely grateful for that.

Sitting down on the chair closest to him, Hitoshi looked up to his giant acquaintance expectantly. Shouji started to speak with the mouthlike orifice that he manifested on his hand thanks to his unique quirk.

He and Shouto had tried to find out if he had a mouth under the mask, but they ended it as to not invade his privacy. Unlike him, Shouto had a close relationship with the dupli-armed emo that he didn’t want to ruin by asking invasive questions like that. It was probably for the best, as unsatisfying as that truth was.

Finally, the issue Shouji wanted to discuss with him was addressed. He could be quite the drama queen, as surprising as that was, so the anticipation he caused was probably intentional. Bakugou had the same unexpected theatrics, so he was just about done with it.

“As you know already, Bakugou has recently perished in a villain attack while protecting a civilian, or so we’ve been told…” What was up with this tension building? And what did he mean by ‘or so we’ve been told’?

“Okay, way to state the obvious, man.” Hitoshi quipped with an eye-roll to boot. “Why did you want to talk about that?”

The hesitancy that was written all over Shouji made Hitoshi extremely on-edge. His guards were up the instant that the off-brand Edgeshot grabbed his shoulder without warning, but after he started talking, that guard was working overtime. He was nearing a full-blown panic attack.

“You’ve probably noticed how… uh, apprehensive I’ve been in this conversation.” No shit, Sherlock. “It’s not just about the topic of the conversation I want to start, though that didn’t help much.” He admitted. Hitoshi relaxed a little.

“It’s actually because I’m ashamed.” Relaxation was turned right off. Shouji, respectful, and honourable Shouji did something worthy of shame? He didn’t know whether to be horrified or impressed. “I did something I’ve always avoided last night.” Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

“Are you talking about… taking the self-guided tour?” Shouji looked confused as fuck. “Frying up the corndog? Finding Nemo? Shucking the corn?” He just cocked an eyebrow. Hitoshi groaned. He really didn’t want to say it. “Jesus, ARE WE TALKING ABOUT WANKING?” He shouted impulsively. He winced, realizing what he had just yelled.

God, he hoped Kirishima wasn’t in his dorm room. It was quiet enough that they could hear a commotion from a few floors before them. Everyone was probably around there at that time.

“NO! Oh my god, Shinsou! Get your head out of the gutter…” How judgemental. Although, he’d admit that he arrived at that conclusion rather quickly. He didn’t realize how many euphemisms for masturbation he knew.

Definitely hanging around Bakugou too much. He would later ask Shouto if he had another website specifically for THOSE types of circumlocutions.

“What I was going to say, is that I eavesdropped on you last night.” Oh? “It was a disrespectful and immoral thing to do. It was during your conversation with Kirishima.” Oh.
“As you can imagine,” Oh! “I have a few questions… about Bakugou.”

OH.

That… really wasn’t the direction in which he thought that conversation would be heading.

Bakugou was probably going to kill him for that. How fun.

Chapter Text

The conversation between Hitoshi and Shouji went over much faster and quite a bit smoother than he even thought possible. Maybe it was because of his calm and placid manner, or because he didn’t incessantly ask questions as Hitoshi did. (probably Shouto, too.)

“-And apparently he’s a poltergeist, which I literally found out… less than fifteen minutes before now.” He finished. Shouji remained utterly silent.

Assuming he was justifiably shocked, Hitoshi bowed his head and waited for him to try to process the information. “Hmm. That just about covers everything I wanted to know.” His head shot right back up. He wasn’t shocked, he just didn’t have anything else to say. Hitoshi couldn’t believe it.

“Aren’t you brimming with questions?” Hitoshi almost shouted. Shouji just shook his head. “Theories?” Another no. “There are so many unanswered questions, and you’re just fine with it? It’s like you don’t even ca-” He stopped himself.

Tears were running down Hitoshi’s face. He desperately tried to wipe them off, but they just kept coming. His throat felt like it was closing up, being filled with syrup or something. He hated how familiar it felt to cry like that. It wasn’t as bad as it was back when his parents were still around, but it certainly wasn’t mild. It sucked.

Hell, he didn’t even know why he was crying in the first place. Everyone else was dealing with so much more than he was. Not only did they know Bakugou for longer, but they didn’t have knowledge of Bakugou’s continued existence like he did. It was stupid.

Turns out, Shouji was actually a pretty good hugger. “Sorry, I don’t even know…” He intended to finish the sentence, to apologize for his unexplained emotional state, but he was comforted by the solid hug.

Even after the reassuring news he had gotten, there were still tons of emotions he needed to work through. So, he sobbed into the shoulder of a giant octopus who he barely knew.

“I believe that he will come back. I mean, if he’s the only ghost around, it’s probably the result of a quirk. Maybe there’s a time limit or something.” Huh. He had repressed the thought that Bakugou wouldn’t come back so much that he didn’t even realize that was the reason why he was upset.

God, he just hoped that Shouji was right. Hitoshi didn’t think he seemed like the type for wishful thinking Kirishima did say that there weren’t any other ghosts that the two of them knew of. Maybe there was reason to be hopeful.

Wiping his tears, he finally returned the hug. Hitoshi didn’t need it anymore, after being reassured by his new friend, but he wasn’t the only one with emotions about Bakugou in the room. Even if he didn’t really show it, or cry about it, Shouji was still Bakugou’s friend, and the news he had gotten wasn’t exactly an easy one to digest.

Too late, Hitoshi realized he didn’t know how to hug that well. He was still new to his new family, so he was still not comfortable enough to hug them all the time (Though, with proper consent, Hizashi was quite the hugger.), and his biological family definitely wasn’t going to embrace him lovingly any time soon. He patted his back awkwardly, earning a laugh. Some would argue that was better than a hug.

“*That’s not a hug, this is a hug.*” He said, parodying the famous line from a popular Aussie film the class watched on movie night.

Requested by Bakugou, oddly enough. They didn’t want to miss their monthly movie night (especially when Bakugou actually wanted to come), but they needed to study for their English final for the next day. It was mainly focused on English slang and colloquial terms, to make it more on the ‘fun’ side. 

It happened to be Bakugou’s best subject, since his dad was raised in Ontario, Canada, and he spoke in it often. He swore, used common terms, and used somewhat obscure slang all in his second language, so he didn’t have to worry, unlike the rest of them.

For Bakugou, they didn’t cancel the movie night. Most people wouldn’t be able to watch it since they had been less prepared for the upcoming test than he was. Even Iida and Momo struggled with informal language. Mic didn’t mean to make it so hard on them, but he was so familiar with English that he didn’t understand their toil.

Reassuring them that it’d be fine, Bakugou managed to rope them all into coming, with his move choice. No one knew how he had managed to be so persuasive.

Bringing an English movie with tons of informal language and swearing (that unfortunately rubbed off on Midoriya) was a stroke of genius. The best part was that he translated any part they didn’t understand.

Not exactly translate it, but breaking down the basic affixes and roots, so they could figure it out themselves. It caught everyone but Kirishima off guard when he showed how good a tutor he could be. Everyone enjoyed the movie, and they were prepared for the test.

Even poor Denki got 80%. That was higher than almost half of the class! (He really enjoyed the movie.) They threw a celebration party for him. He wouldn’t stop crying, hugging and thanking Bakugou. Hitoshi was surprised he allowed Denki to touch him for that long. Probably too busy denying that he put the movie on for them.

The memory brought a few more tears to his face, but they weren’t sad tears, they were fond.

After a few more minutes of talking, he and Shouji were interrupted by sudden talking from the room next to them. Shouji plugged his ears, probably still guilty because of his eavesdropping the day before.

Hitoshi didn’t intentionally listen in, but Kirishima got rather noisy after a while, even with his bothersome head injury, so he caught little snippets of what he was saying. “Only end… 20 million? … Abuse? ---Katuki.” Using his given name? Hitoshi was pretty sure that was a first.

Then there was a huge noise, of something crashing. Both Hitoshi and Shouji jumped out of their seats. Unfortunately for Hitoshi, the chair he was sitting in was an older one. It wasn’t prepared for when he fell right back into it.

Clumsiness was something he was cursed with, so springing up so quickly was bad for his balance. He toppled on the office chair, which made it break immediately.

Grateful for Shouji’s politeness for not laughing and/or yelling at him for tumbling into his chair and breaking it, he pulled himself back up. Shouji even went the extra mile of helping him off the floor. He was heroic, all right.

Their next priority was to go  check on what had happened in Kirishima’s room, or possibly the room below his. Coming out of the door, Hitoshi saw Denki rushing into his red-haired neighbour’s dorm, probably to check on him.

If he remembered correctly, the room directly below Kirishima’s was Denki’s, so whatever happened there probably affected his room. They backed off, since he probably had it handled, but Hitoshi still lingered near the door in case anyone was declared injured.

Seemingly, there was a tense conversation going on, so when Denki walked out with Kirishima tailing him, Hitoshi hid behind the door. What? He didn’t want to seem creepy, like he was peeping in on their conversation that was obviously intended to be kept between just the two of them.

As they left to go down in the elevators, he caught a glimpse of Kirishima’s head. It was bleeding.

He tried to yell out a warning to them, but it had already closed.

Naturally, he ran down the stairs at top speed to follow them and warn his idiot friends that one of them had a serious injury. Little did he know, he was following them to the school nurse’s room.

Trying to stop them from going to the place he was trying to warn them to go was a little ironic.

And counterproductive.

---

“Talking to a ghost.” Shouta had thought about telling his student about his completely absurd theory, but he didn’t actually think he would share it. Like he said, it was absurd. Unbelievable. He was probably crazy for even thinking about it.

Now, his most idiotic student (sorry not sorry) would start laughing. Except, after a few moments of bracing himself for it, he didn’t.

Anxiety, he reminded himself that was all it was. His student wouldn’t go as far as to laugh at him. Kaminari had never displayed any animosity towards anyone except (eventually) Mineta, like everyone else.

Instead, he looked like he was actually considering his words. Not laughing was understandable, but actually thinking it over seriously was a new level of stupid, even for the Pikachu rip-off. /or maybe he's just realizing how stupid you are./ He shook the intrusive thought away.

“Hmm. That would actually explain a lot.” Seriously? He thought it was just wishful thinking, but did this kid actually have an instinct telling him that it could be true, just like Shouta?

“Earlier, he was talking to himself, or it seemed that way.” Did… did he actually have real evidence to back it up? Never did he think this kid would have any proof, or even if he did, realize that it was proof. “He blame someone who wasn’t there for breaking his floorboard, even though there was no reason to defend himself or anything.”

Could this kid be onto something? Shouta sometimes forgot how insightful he could be. When it came to his friends, he seemed to have a sixth sense about things. “Later, he claimed he didn’t say anything, which is why I brought him to recovery girl.” Huh?

“Why would you take him to recovery girl if he claimed that he didn’t say something?” It just sounded like a half-assed excuse to him. “Was him lying really that unnatural?” He joked.

“No, I just thought not remembering something was because of his concussion, so I thought it got worse or something.” He admitted unashamedly. This kid… how could Kirishima lie to someone so pure?

Pausing they both considered something. “What if he’s actually delusional?” Kaminari asked frantically. “What if there’s actually no hope, and he’s just dead permanently, and we’re all actually insane, and-” He was having a panic attack. Shouta summoned up his dad instinct as to not have one himself.

Considering how panicked he was, there was no way he’d actually listen to Shouta’s calming techniques, so how would he go about reassuring him, when he himself didn’t know for certain what was going on with Kirishima?

Fortunately, his adoptive son always popped up at the exact right times. “He’s not crazy! Bakugou’s really a ghost, and it can be proven!” Hitoshi shouted at his panicking friend. It would’ve been sweet if he didn’t hit his head on the door frame while rushing inside the nurse’s office. At least it lightened the mood a little.

Until his nose started bleeding. Good thing they were in a medical centre. He grabbed the nearest tissue box, which just happened to be Spider-Man themed.

“You know about Kirishima and Bakugou, do you?” Shouta asked, using his best ‘disapproving father’ voice to covey his hurt at being kept in the dark, without doing anything too drastic like expressing emotion.

Groaning in pain and/or annoyance, he started explaining. “It happened pretty fast, and not everyone would believe us right away, even with evidence. It’s kind of hard to properly prove. It could just look like a bunch of coincidences. I think… I don’t really know the details about poltergeists, sorry.”

“Holy shit, he already caused enough goddamn trouble! Now he can do that while I’m physically incapable of stopping him. This is just perfect.” He said dully. Kaminari laughed. Good to know he was feeling better. It usually took Shouta and Hitoshi a lot more time to recover from a panic attack, or just an almost panic attack.

“Yup. He’s now an unstoppable demon. I mean, he was a demon before, but at least he was stoppable with Midoriya’s help.” Hitoshi said with the same dull tone.

Honestly, they could’ve been biological father and son. With their hair type, insomnia, personalities, anxiety, frame, and eternal not-giving-a-fuck, they could be the same person. Except he wasn’t as clumsy.

As Kaminari laughed at their quips, both of them had medicine bottles thrown at their heads. By nothing.

Bakugou.

“Point proven.”

Chapter Text

“Yup. He’s now an unstoppable demon. I mean, he was a demon before, but at least he was stoppable with Midoriya’s help.” That little bitch! Shinsou betrayed Katsuki with his hurtful (yet accurate) words.

Mocking him like that when he didn’t even know he was there was unforgivable. Kaminari started laughing. It made him soften for a minute, remembering how upset he was, but his anger went right back up after he realized what he was laughing at.

Slander. Absolute SLANDER. First, Aizawa insulted him, then the person who Katsuki considered to be a friend, and now even dunce face was taunting him. After he’d died no less. ‘With Midoriya’s help’? How dare those hellions insinuate that the pathetic nerd was stronger than he was.

Outraged at that complete injustice, he attempted to throw one of the medicine bottles that inexplicably fell onto the floor, in what he expected would be a futile attempt.

Except it wasn’t futile as he believed. Instead, it hit the targets on the bullseye, right on their heads. Whelp, that was definitely unexpected. “Owww!” Shinsou whined, holding his head where he had been hit, like a child who fell for the first time.

Their teacher rubbed his head as well, but barely paid it any mind, unlike his ‘adoptive’ son. It took a while to convince him it wasn’t biological, even though he knew just how gay his dad was. (His gaydar was impeccable, considering just how homosexual he was himself) He hoped that he didn’t actually end up hurting either of them.

Seeing as he didn’t actually know he could throw shit, he didn’t intend to actually injure either insomniac. He only wanted to use it as a gesture of his anger.

“How did that even happen? There’s no one over there, right?” Seriously? Was he being serious? They were JUST talking about him being a ghost. He threw a bottle, this time with pernicious intent. “What was that?” He asked with a grimace plastered on his normally incessantly cheerful face.

Facepalming in sync, the anxious father and son (right, ‘adoptive’. More like separated at birth like Eijirou and his rip-off.) informed the idiot in the room about what was actually happening. “Bakugou. Bakugou is throwing them.” Accidentally, obviously. Throwing them accidentally. Leaving out a pretty important part there, weren’t they?

Other than with Kaminari, which was definitely intentional. But, he deserved it for being a complete dimwit. He needed some negative reinforcement for that problem; they had to admit.

Dunce Face looked like he had seen… well, a ghost. “You mean he’s here right now?! How the hell?”

He started pacing, looking as crazy as Shinsou and Icyhot after fourteen shots of ten-hour energy ad no sleep for over a week while trying to form a hypothesis about what would happen if Aizawa cancelled the invisible chick’s quirk, not even considering the option of simply asking him to demonstrate. As long as they weren’t naked while it happened, what was the worst that could’ve happened?

Okay, maybe that was a bit off track, but what was their reasoning? They couldn’t just straight-up ask whether they could do this thing or not? Or just pull down Shouji’s mask to see if he had a mask? Katsuki would in a heartbeat, no question. It would probably be tactless, but that was kind of his style.

“How long has he been in here?” That was a good question. It’d been much harder to conceive the passage of time when you had no way of passing it or a need to sleep, eat, etcetera.

“Are we supposed to know the answer to that? He’s invisible, idiot!” Katsuki burst out laughing.

“You tell him, bestie! He actually deserves the slander.” Okay, maybe he was still feeling a bit salty, but could you blame him? His so-called friend insulted him. Sure, the unstoppable demon part was fair, but the suggestion that Deku was stronger than him was enraging.

Anger was a part of his daily routine, but this was inflicted by one he had put his trust in. Remaining unfazed by Katsuki’s encouragement, due solely to the fact that he couldn’t hear him, Shinsou went into full conspiracy mode. It was visible on his face. What was he trying to figure out? He’d already talked Eijirou’s ear off with his ceaseless questions.

“Probably since Kirishima came into the room, so about ten minutes, maybe less?” Wow, capable of making a basic estimate. How impressive. Shinsou could probably sense the eye roll from his deceased friend.

“It makes sense, since he hasn’t left his boyfriend’s side since this mess started.” That cheeky devil. As if the defamation from before wasn’t enough, he had to go and flip him off with that goddamn comment. Aizawa attempted at stifling his laughter, but failing oh so miserably.

“Wait, Blasty had a boyfriend?” Jesus, why not sling their insult at that idiot? Why did Katsuki have to be the target? “IS HE GAY?”

Seriously? The awkward, finger-gunning bisexual didn’t manage to connect the dots enough to realize that Katsuki was a flamboyant gay? Finally, the attention of the other two in the room turned to him. “Gay and head over heels for the gayest of them all.” Kaminari tilted his head, a sign of pure confusion that he used often.

“Gayest of them all?” Katsuki would never admit it, but he was confused about that too. Were they talking about Half n’ half? He didn’t have a thing for him, but he was certainly the only one who could compete with Katsuki’s title for the most rainbow.

“Kirishima, obviously.” Oh, shit.

Shame was something that Bakugou Katsuki didn’t often feel. He was far too prideful to not repress an emotion like that. But he’d admit, that he felt much shame when he learned that he didn’t realize that Eijirou was gay.

Constant uses of the words ‘manly’ and ‘bro’, and saying ‘no homo’ literally every time he said anything that could remotely be attributed to being into men. His near obsession with being viewed as stereotypically masculine, and the obvious disinterest in anything female. The question was, with his flawless gaydar, how did Katsuki miss it?

There were only a few time when he couldn’t properly use it, and they always had one common factor. It was when he was gay panicking over the person in question. His gaydar would flat line, leaving him a mess.

It wasn’t that he thought they were automatically straight when it was broken, ‘cause fuck heteronormativity, he just forgot that sexual/romantic orientation was a thing that they had. Which, in turn, meant that he gay panicked over Eijirou.

You may be thinking, ‘no duh.’ or ‘say it ain’t so.’, but before that point Katsuki had absolutely. No. Fucking. Clue. Eijirou had used the words ‘friends’ and ‘best bros’ so fucking often that he didn’t even consider the possibility that he cared about him in a romantic or, heaven forbid, sexual way.

“Yeah, those two’re pretty damn obvious. I wish they’d just kiss already.” He yeeted yet another object at his head while continuing to have an existential crisis about his questionable relationship status with Eijirou. He was always great at multitasking. After some contemplation, he came across the realization that everyone with a spare brain cell knew already.

“I’m in love with my best friend.” He said it aloud, just in to be able to process the completely indisputable fact.

The door connecting the main room and the surgical room made a quiet noise as it closed. It was nearly imperceptible to a partially deaf man, even more so when he was stuck in his thoughts.

Maybe, just maybe, if Katsuki had been paying more attention to the place where he should’ve been patiently waiting by, he wouldn’t have buried himself in the worst scenario he could’ve been in after gaining clarity about his feelings towards Eijirou.

“Say what now?” Maybe Eijirou wouldn’t have heard him outright say that he was in love with him.

Shit.

---

Skilled as she was with her quirk, she was even more skilled at using real tools and techniques to heal. After all, she had become a healer back when she could honestly call herself by the moniker ‘the youthful heroine.’

Just ten minutes or so after she brought him to the surgical room, with all the amazing advancements they had made in medicine, the infection was healing.

Admittedly, Eijirou knew nothing of the aforementioned medical advancements, of course. Not only was he completely uneducated in such fields, he had also never needed them. Ever since he was a kid, he had a spectacular immune system and never got sick.

His mom thought that it might’ve been because of the defensive nature of his quirk, but his madre (she was Hispanic, so he used the name to differentiate between the two) thought it was because of years of building it up by playing in the dirt, and wrecking clothing, too.

In any case, the only time he ever needed to go to the hospital was after the Shie Hassaikai raid, because of his fight with Rappa. Even then, it was only because his quirk failed to keep up with his powerful hits, which deeply affected his motivation for developing his unbreakable mode.

There was a commotion in the other room, and even through the soundproofed door, he could make out Katsuki… cheering about slander? His curiosity was driving him insane, but he knew that leaving before his sutures was a dreadful idea, since it would be terrible for his health, but more importantly, it would only incur Recovery girl’s wrath. So, he sat, tapping his foot impatiently.

Whacking him (thankfully not on the head) with her cane, she broke the growing silence between them. “You should work on your patience, young man. You’ll need it for future hero work.” Not if he was just going to fight villains. Rescue was what his quirk was made for, but it’d never been his calling. Fighting was his thing.

“You can leave now.” She stated with an annoyed look on her face.

He barely even processed the words before he was rushing to the door. He gave a rushed ‘thank you’, since he had SOME manners, and closed the door.

Katsuki looked like he was contemplating his entire existence. (or… not existence?) Before asking what was wrong or Katsuki indicating that he had seen Eijirou come back at all, he outright said what his dilemma was.

“I’m in love with my best friend.” Oh.

Oh, shit.

“Say what now?”

Deer in headlights was the best way to describe the look on Katsuki’s face. Maybe Eijirou should’ve just pretended like he didn’t hear anything. What a way to dig your own grave, dude.

He wished that he didn’t actually hear that. Why did his ears have to be cursed with that knowledge?

Why did he have to know that Katsuki was in love with Shinsou?

Chapter Text

Katsuki hadn’t really thought about it before. Eijirou had always been by his side, purely as a supportive friend. Sure, there’d be the occasional question from some nosy shipper (Mina specifically), questioning their, admittedly confusing, relationship status. He’d mainly just brush it off as her trying desperately to make her classmates get together.

There was a not-so subtle competition about how many one-night hook ups or romantic relationships in 1-A compared to 1-B. So far, they had the loud-mouthed blonde & man hands, the American chick & speech bubble dude, dope bob girl and Setsuna, (yes, he knew her name. She was just as cool as her girlfriend, okay?) and ghost girl with some extra he didn’t bother finding out anything about.

Competitive as he was, he didn’t really care about that particular competition. Annoying kid cared, but that was only out of jealousy of their class.

Besides, why would he invest himself in a competition they weren’t going to win? There were only two people who weren’t in denial about their love. (Frog & bird and Mina & Sero.) He’d thought about everyone else as completely oblivious.

Realizing he was just as oblivious as them, he didn’t know which was worse; actually admitting that he was at the same level as them, or SYMPATHIZING. He wished he could return to his blissful ignorance, like he so enjoyed. Alas, you couldn’t take back an existential crisis.

Repression was his usual go-to for things he wanted to forget, but after saying it out loud AND having someone hear it to boot, there was no denying possible, unfortunately.

Love. The mere thought almost made him laugh. Bakugou Katsuki didn’t do ‘love’. He did hatred, rivalry, respect, maybe tolerance, but certainly not love. After some years, camaraderie was a possibility, but even that was rare. He didn’t give love, sure, but he never received it either. How could he love people if they didn’t love him back? Who would do that for him?

Relationships he formed were almost all formed out of hate. His friends? Probably not. Tolerating him was one thing, but actually having positive feelings? Not possible. His parents? Fuck no! Deku?

… Maybe. He shouldn’t. Obviously. Katsuki had never been anything but toxic with him, and yet, he never showed any animosity. No pettiness or spite, no nothing. Perhaps he was the only person who had ever loved him. Maybe that was why Katsuki couldn’t stand him.

Because he had never deserved it. Sure, awe was to be expected. He was amazing, his quirk was amazing. Being praised was nothing new to him, and he had worked for it. But loving stares, respect, and unwavering loyalty? Of course he didn’t deserve that. So, he shoved him aside, since it was obviously all a trick. He was looking down on him.

The only reason that made sense to him. Katsuki may be egotistical and cocky, but what was he confident about? His quirk. His power. Really, he hated everything non-physical about himself. There was no one who actually liked him for just himself. The only exceptions… were Deku and… Eijirou.

From the first minutes that he had met him, Katsuki knew that this guy didn’t have any ulterior motives. When he said that Katsuki wasn’t as bad as he originally came off as, he believed him.

When he asked to team up for the cavalry battle, he wasn’t doing it just because of his points, Eijiro had told him after it took place. He didn’t really try to join Icyhot’s team, he went straight to Katsuki to ask. He told him it was because he really respected the things he did during the USJ attack. Respect was the only reason.

Believed him again. Kept believing him every time he promised an event or activity with his other classmates would be fun, and went. Believed him when he said that he was a friend. That everything would be fine, and he would be safe. Took his hand when he reached out.

Trustworthiness he emanated wasn’t the only reason, he realized. It was because he was head-over-heels in love with him. Motherfucker.

“Say what now?” What COULD he say? ‘Hey, didn’t mean to say that out loud, sorry. But yeah, now that we’re on the subject, I’m in love with you. Not just fuckability, though you absolutely have that, but for your personality and the fact that you enjoy my presence. That’s super great for me considering my self-worth is actually really low.’ Yeah, sounded like a fantastic idea.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to say a word. Eijirou had become pretty skilled in the art of holding a conversation by himself. 

After years of hanging out with Katsuki, who didn’t talk much when he wasn’t being provoked, (which he rarely was with his friend/crush) he was bound to develop that useless skill.

“You… you’re in love…?” Shit. Did he have to say it again? He was already having enough trouble swallowing it without having to hear it again.

The sound of someone choking came from across the room.

Dammit. They were both so caught up in their thoughts that they didn’t remember that there were other people with them. Namely, the idiot, the conspiracy theorist who was way too concerned with Katsuki’s personal life and his teacher. “HE’S WHAT?” they all shouted synchronously.

Looking even more mortified than Katsuki felt, Eijirou made a pathetic attempt to cover up what he had let slip. Stammering was an insult to the nonsensical prate that came out of his mouth.

“JUST COME UP WITH A PROPER EXCUSE YOU MORON!” He shouted, venting his humiliation in the form of unbridled rage. As apologetic as he looked, Eijirou wasn’t gonna be forming proper words for a while. Denki’s jaw had dropped to the ground, Shinsou was verging on laughter, and even Aizawa looked interested.

Betrayal. He had been betrayed by their unjustly over-the-top reactions. It wasn’t THAT unlikely that he would fall in love.

...Okay, maybe he had just gone on for several long, detailed paragraphs, internally monologuing about the lack of love in his life, both giving and receiving, but it wasn’t like he’s incapable of it. He just… could’ve used a little nudge in that direction.

Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t incapable of anything, even being a polite human being for more than a few seconds, unlike most people would believe. He could do anything. If there was one word he would use to describe himself, it would be ‘able’. There was nothing on the planet that he couldn’t do, and that included falling in love.

Truthfully, he DID think he was unable to do that until he had that realization in the nurse’s office.

Eijirou had stopped flailing around like a fish thrown onto land, looking with confused eyes, expecting something from Katsuki. Every emotion popped onto his face, plain to see for anyone bothering to look. Lost, confused…

Upset.

That gave Katsuki a pause. Why would he be upset? It was something he had never seen on him before. He was always comforting, smiling, at least while he was around. He was an upbeat, positive guy. Could his accidental love confession really be that unpleasant? Did…

Did he deserve that reaction? The thought that he might’ve made tears come to his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, I need to go. I’m… really sorry.” He rushed out of the room before Katsuki could do anything.

Begging him to stay would be cruel anyway. He was too nice to say no, and he didn’t want to punish him like that. He had stuck around for so long, he didn’t deserve that.

Just like he didn’t deserve Eijirou.

---

“You… you’re in love?”

Shit. There were other people in the room. People who Katsuki didn’t just say that out loud to. He tried to formulate an excuse, but even after careful healing, his head injury wouldn’t allow him to speak properly.

Or maybe it wasn’t the head injury. Maybe it was because he was so upset that he couldn’t even do something as simple as speaking anymore. But, he shouldn’t have been upset.

“JUST COME UP WITH A PROPER EXCUSE YOU MORON!” Gods, he wished he could. He wished he could say the right thing for once, but he just couldn’t And he was sorry. But being sorry didn’t solve anything, did it? Why couldn’t sorry ever be enough?

It would be okay, he thought to himself, everything will be fine, he thought to himself, you don’t care, he reminded himself.

But that wasn’t the truth. And lying, especially if you were lying to yourself, was the most unmanly thing you could do. Eijirou knew that, and if there’s one thing he didn’t want to be known as, it was unmanly. Yet, he didn’t want to accept the truth.

Because the truth was the thing he’d been denying since he enrolled in UA, since he didn’t protect Mina in middle school. No, since he had formed the concept of gender and sexualities when he was just a little kid. Who would want to shatter that brilliantly crafted illusion, just for the manliness’ sake?

Let me answer that for you. No one. No one sane would want to break out of the bliss of faking the things that were difficult to address.

Except for Eijirou. Because he had lived his life in a way that would make him want to face his challenges head-on, to break out of a self-destructive cycle. Just like Katsuki had shown.

If he was being honest, like he had always tried to be, Katsuki was his biggest and best role-model. Was that weird to say about your crush friend? It probably was, but it was accurate. He was Eijirou’s muse. When he needed an example for determination, strength, strong will, Katsuki came to mind.

\\\

"What do you think defines strong person? A hero? I don't actually know what you think it is. I know you wanna win, but what else is there?" The question was innocent. He knew the motivations of most of his peers, but he had no idea what Bakugou's was.

"I think the strongest and most heroic people are the ones who face their demons head-on." That was unexpected. He thought it would be something like 'not fearing anything or anyone, especially not pathetic villains'.

"Huh, so I'm not much of a hero then." It just slipped out.

"Well, even if that were true, it'd be easily fixed." He wouldn't understand, being so fearless and amazing. "Because you don't have to beat them.

Laughing a bit, he explained. "Beating them is great, but it's unnecessary to be considered a trong person in my eyes. Just facing them is hard enough as it is. Even the most barve of people are afraid of that. Myself inluded." Eijirou had never seen him so open before. "Admitting that they're there in the first place and facing the demons... that defines bravery." 

///

Reminiscing, he realized that was probably the moment that Eijirou…

Fell for Katsuki.

That hit him like a ton of bricks. And it hurt. There was a reason why facing that demon in particular was so brave.

It was because he was in love with his best friend, his closest friend, the person he cared about most. Firstly, he was a man. This was only a problem because he had faced homophobia himself. He had two moms, so he was already tormented for just being associated with an ‘unnatural’ relationship.

Alone, that was solvable. A problem he could fix. But, how could he fix what the true problem?

‘Unrequited love’. That was what madre called it. Love that wasn’t reciprocated. The most common cause was that they were already in love with someone else. That someone else being Shinsou, in this particular case.

“I-I’m sorry, I need to go. I’m… really sorry.” He rushed out the door before anyone could stop him or say anything that he knew would break his heart. He really was sorry that he had left it like that.

But sorry is never enough.

Chapter Text

Eijirou ran. Out of the room, out of the school building, out of the entirety of the school grounds, past height’s alliance and farther than that.

Endurance wasn’t his strong suit, nor was his speed, and unbreakable mode had only worsened that, but he couldn’t stop running. If he stopped, then he would have to think about things. And with what had just happened, he didn’t think that thinking was the best thing for him.

Minutes gradually tuned into what might’ve been hours, and despite his burning lungs, aching legs and lightheadedness, which may have been from his head wound, he didn’t stop. Not to check on his potentially reopened stitches, not for anything that he should’ve done. Because if he stopped… everything would come rushing back.

“I’m in love with my best friend.” He wasn’t supposed to hear that. He shouldn’t have been impatient, rushing Recovery girl to finish his stitches, he shouldn’t have done a lot of the stupid things he did.

No taking it back anymore, he just had to live with the consequences, no matter how much it sucked. Well, sucked was an understatement. It was probably the most horrible feeling he’d experienced in his life. And, believe him, he’d been through some fucked up stuff. His middle school and UA friends both being attacked by villains, fighting Rappa, almost dying. Maybe that sounded like an exaggeration, but it wasn’t to Eijirou.

Instead of almost dying, it felt like he was actually dead. Like someone had stabbed him in the leg, shot him in the arm, tore out his liver, and just before he died, spit in his face. It at least made him want to die if that didn’t already kill him. Maybe he was dead.

It wasn’t completely impossible. It felt like it, and apparently it was possible to be a ghost. Even if he was, he didn’t stop to find out. It made him wonder which would be worse, thinking about what had happened in the nurse’s, or to die? But, he really didn’t feel like wondering about anything, just running, no matter how much it hurt.

Pushing through his pain wasn’t too hard for him. He’d been much more hurt. Ignoring the thoughts that were scattered throughout his fragile mind was much harder.

But, his body begged to differ, and he stopped. Breathing was both impossible, and the only thing he was capable of doing. His lungs may as well have been bleeding. He remembered. Hyperventilation. That was what Ms. Midnight had called it. Giving it a technical name and definition didn’t help solve it.

Someone who he didn’t know ran up to him. After he looked around a bit, he realized he didn’t know anyone or anything around him. How far had he ran? Where was he?

“Sir! Sir, are you okay.” He couldn’t respond, he was busy trying to invite all the oxygen his lungs would allow. It wasn’t as much as he needed, but it was something to offset the black spots clouding his vision.

“Call an ambulance!” Eijirou had wanted to tell her that it was okay, that he didn’t need an ambulance, but all he could manage was a pathetic wheeze. Instead, he signed it.

After Midoriya had accidentally let it slip that Katsuki was going deaf, Eijirou had rushed out of the room. They thought he was upset, but that wasn’t why he left. He had gone away immediately to learn JSL from YouTube videos and signed up for a cheap class. Katsuki was fluent already, as was Midoriya, so he had to start off as soon as possible to keep up.

Using it reminded him too much of his recently deceased friend, so he wanted to be done as soon as possible.

Thankfully, one of the onlookers understood JSL and got the message pretty quickly. The sweet woman who ran up to help him in the first place was the only one who remained. “Are you sure that you’re okay young man? You look awful…” She said as tactfully as she could, considering her words.

Luckily, his breathing pattern was much more even now, enough that he could properly respond. “Just tired from running. He took a closer look at the woman. Her long green hair, kind eyes and face shape looked really familiar to him for some reason. “Have I seen you before?” He asked her.

Studying him, she came up with a response. “I think I saw you in the sports festival, in my son’s class.” Son? OH!

“You mean Midoriya, right? You look a lot like him.” Eijirou commented, flashing a somewhat forced grin. He was still in pain from being reminded of Katsuki while trying to communicate with the worried civilians. How unmanly was that?

“Yes, that’s him. My name is Midoriya Inko. Oh, you competed against little Katsuki in the first year, right?” His grin disappeared. What an unintentional punch to the gut. “Don’t feel disheartened, young one, you performed quite well. Honestly, I’m surprised you lasted so long against him. He’s one hard hitter.” She said kindly, misinterpreting the reason for his dispiritedness. He didn’t bother correcting her.

“Yeah, I know that for sure. He’s super strong.” His fake smile returned full-force. Ms. Midoriya’s eyes lit up with realization.

“You’re Kirishima Eijirou, aren’t you?” She declared. It was more a statement than a question, so he simply nodded to confirm her suspicions. “That makes sense. From the way little Katsuki described you, I expected someone with… different hair though.” Oh my god.

He didn’t know whether to be disappointed or to squeal in delight. On one hand, his crush friend talked about his ‘shitty hair’ when he wasn’t around, but on the other, he had just learned that Katsuki spoke to Midoriya’s mother often enough for her to know all about Eijirou and to call him ‘little Katsuki’ without even thinking about him. Was he close with his rival’s mother?

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Sometimes, Eijirou- along with the rest of the class- forgot that the two of them were childhood friends. Though, Katsuki insisted that even then, the word ‘friend’ was still up for debate.

Since they had become friends, Katsuki would often talk about someone, only referring to them as *‘Ink’*. That sounded pretty similar to Ms. Midoriya’s given name.

On his contacts, there was someone labelled under ‘Auntie’ with several colourful heart emojis, which was adorable enough on its own, but he also seemed to text her pretty damn often, since her name was listed before Shinsou’s, who was actually someone his age. Listed before… oh. Oh, shit.

Thinking about Shinsou was a horrible decision. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. The person Katsuki just happened to be in love with, who took the title of Katsuki’s ‘best friend’ away from Eijirou while he was at it. He had stolen all his titles, so now, Eijirou realized how insignificant he was to him. Just another one of the ‘extras’. “Did you have an asthma attack?”

“Something like that.” He responded to her question with the most vague answer he could give. What was he going to say? ‘I’m crying because your son’s childhood friend, who I just stopped denying my love for, is in love with another guy I wish never came into our class, not because of a physical condition, but thanks for your concern.’

“Well, young one, I’ll just have to drive you back to your school. They’re on high alert, but I’m sure that they’ll make an exception for one of their students.” Yeah, how ‘bout no? “How did you even get here in the first place? It’s very far from campus…” She muttered the last part more to herself.

“Don’t worry, I can just run back, like I did to get here in the first place.” It was after he said that when he realized the biggest resemblance between Ms. Midoriya and her child. They both had the most menacing glare when you didn’t take care of yourself.

Managing to startle him enough to get him to do anything, he got into her car. He felt numb. Despondent. He didn’t have the motivation to do anything, to think, to feel. As soon as he got back, he would probably just collapse into a ball, ask Mina for some cookie dough ice cream and feel sorry for himself.

With the crazy traffic, he probably would’ve gotten back faster by running. It was probably around 7:00pm.

Getting into the school would really be a struggle, since he didn’t inform anyone he was leaving. (Since he didn’t know he was leaving himself) Thankfully, someone came along to save his ass from Hound dog’s wrath. “I am here, to vouch for young Kirishima.”

All Might.

It had been a while.

---

Toshinori had been going through… a rough patch.

He already had a problem with blaming himself for all sorts of things that, logically, he understood wasn’t his fault to begin with. Young Midoriya had the same problem, unfortunately, blaming himself for young Bakugou’s kidnapping.

How was he supposed to avoid feeling responsible for his… his death? He hadn’t been there when he needed it, when villains were attacking him. He didn’t give advice before he left. Too focused on taking care of his successor, checking in on him, that he forgot all about his other student, the other kid that knew his secret.

And then he got the news. From young Aizawa, of all people. Recovery girl and the school’s principal were trying desperately to keep it under wraps. Aizawa was against it, saying how wrong it was to withhold the information they had kept for so long. Toshinori…

Didn’t know how to feel. Did he want to hear that Bakugou had been killed, protecting an innocent civilian, following in Toshinori’s footsteps? Honestly, he couldn’t decide. He couldn’t say he was surprised. After young Bakugou had gotten his provisional licence, his first instinct was to save the civilian that had gotten in the way of the fight, possibly endangering himself in the process.

Heroic wasn’t the first word most people would use to describe him, (except maybe his successor and young Kirishima) but that was all Toshinori could think of.

But why did he have to do it at the cost of his life?

None of that was an excuse for what he had done. He hadn’t checked up on any of his mourning students, not even his (undeniable) favourite student. The one who had probably taken it the hardest.

Even after hearing he was forced into therapy, hell, after seeing him explode with emotion, attacking other people, he didn’t do anything. He hadn’t so much as sparing a glance at another human being for the past three or four days. He knew he isolated himself after the funeral, but he hadn’t been keeping track of the days, just wallowing in self-pity.

Pathetic.

So, he forced himself out of his bed, and decided to check up on someone. Anyone. Preferably someone who was less affected by young Bakugou’s… you know… Passing.

Well, out of bed was an exaggeration. More like he fell onto the floor and reluctantly dragged himself face-first on the ground, didn’t feel like getting back into bed or staying on the itchy carpet, so he decided to leave.

Running into one of his students outside Height’s Alliance was proving to be a challenge. Apparently, they really preferred their living space over all the other possible places they could be in the admittedly excessive space UA owned.

Probably in their rooms, crying, with no one there to support them, since one of the most parental of their teachers was too busy feeling sorry for himself to take care of them. Sure, technically speaking, that wasn’t in the job description, but they all knew that he and young Aizawa took over that role. Toshinori could only hope that at least he was doing his part. Maybe then, his absence would be somewhat forgivable.

Walking near UA’s gates, he decided to make himself useful in a different way. Snipe greeted him. “All Might.” He bowed slightly, in his usual, respectful manner. “I wasn’t expecting you here today.” Fair enough. It still stung, though.

Faking a laugh, he responded. “Yes, I’ve been… busy for a while.” He really was a dreadful liar. They both knew that he hadn’t gotten anything to do since his unplanned retirement. Hobbies and activities had been something he attempted to pick up, but all he wanted to do was train the next generation of heroes.

If he noticed his lie (which he most certainly did), he didn’t comment on it. “I could take over someone’s shift on patrol, if there’s anyone who’s been on for a while?” He offered. What he wanted to do was comfort his students, but they were all in Height’s Alliance. It’s not that he couldn’t go in, but Toshinori couldn’t face them all at once. Why did they have to behave like herds?

Pondering it for a moment, Snipe replied. “I think Hound Dog’s been at it for a while. About thirteen hours straight. He works himself to the bone on these patrols. Are you sure you can take care of it?” He asked, leaving out the ‘without your quirk’ out. How polite.

“I’ll be fine. When’s the last time we had an attack anyway? It’s been almost seven months villain-free!” That may have sounded like a basic standard, but with the UA curse looming ominously over them, it was rare.

Snipe nodded, and led him to Hound Dog’s station. He seemed to be in a heated row with someone. Or, that’s what he assumed, because of the angry growling.

Of all people, it was young Kirishima. He definitely wasn’t the person he expected. Hound Dog wasn’t too familiar with him, so he decided to swoop in and do something helpful. “I am here, to vouch for young Kirishima.” He tapped the aggressive teacher’s shoulder, and he backed off.

“All Might.” He muttered, barely a whisper. Toshinori couldn’t blame him, since he hadn’t been around much.

There hadn’t been a good opening to talk to one of his students. Maybe he could be selfless, despite the grief clawing at his heart. Maybe he could help the kid try to accept what had happened to his closest friend. “Young Kirishima… let’s have a talk.”

Reluctantly, as was obvious by his tense body language, he agreed. “Maybe we should. That’d probably be for the best…” He trailed off for some reason.

Looking closer, he realized it was because he was crying. “I could… really use a- a talk, thanks.” And Toshinori opened up his arms for one of his famous ‘ALL MIGHT’ hug.

“It’ll be okay kid. Why?” He bellowed. Kirishima laughed through his sobbing. Finally, a modicum of comfort.

“Because YOU ARE HERE!” He finished, just as extra.

Yeah. He was there.

Chapter Text

Izuku didn’t feel like going back to the dorms. Seeing everyone crying, upset, it wouldn’t help improve his mood any. It wasn’t very heroic, but he didn’t have the energy or emotional stability to support his friends.

Going off-campus was a big NO, since he needed one of his teachers’ permission and signature. They were just as upset as the rest of his classmates, even the ones who weren’t close to him. He would’ve gone to All Might, but he’d been AWOL since the funeral. He really wanted to see his mentor. He was probably the only one who could comfort him, other than Shouto.

Unfortunately, his multi-coloured friend was off, doing something in his room. He didn’t specify what it was that he wanted to do, but he made it clear through his tone and body language how excited he was for it. Of course, Izuku didn’t protest, since he had never seen him look so happy before.

Happy. An unexpected emotion to find in those horrible times. He would do everything in his limited power to make sure that it stuck, even if that meant wandering the extensive school grounds aimlessly for what was probably just over an hour.

Walking was the thing that helped keep up his spirits the most, next to talking to loved ones, so that’s what he did. Until he reached the door that separated the members of UA from the rest of the world. Hound Dog, the teacher he’d run into after his encounter with Gentle Criminal, was yelling (more like growling) at someone at the gate.

Not wanting to be a recipient of his rage, he decided to hide behind one of the multiple bushes they had. It had never made much sense to him why they had so many bushes, perfect for hiding in, right outside a place where people tried to break in through. A little counterproductive.

While he hid, he tried to sneak a peek at the poor person facing their dog-like teacher’s wrath. They didn’t seem to be trying to defend themselves, so he couldn’t identify them by voice alone.

All he saw was a flash of red, before sinking back into his hiding spot. He could make out Hound Dog perfectly well, though. And the hand resting on his shoulder. He’d be able to recognize it anywhere. He knew the back of that hand like the back of his hand. “I am here, to vouch for young Kirishima.” All Might. His mentor, his father figure, he was right THERE.

All he wanted to do was run to him, but that would’ve been weird and make him look like a stalker, popping out of the bushes like a complete creep. He would just have to wait until it wasn’t as weird anymore.

Sadly, it didn’t seem like there would be a good time at all. Especially after Kirishima came out from Izuku’s blind spot, which from his perspective, was behind the ridiculous amount of shrubbery. Instead of his normal, cheery self, he looked extremely upset.

It was to be expected, after all, his best friend had just died. Even after about 16 years of knowing each other, Kirishima was even closer with Kacchan than he was. Maybe he held resentment for that, but could you blame him? Years spent studying him, admiring him, supporting and encouraging him, yet, Kirishima was the only person who had earned his respect. Maybe he was a bit salty.

Real dislike was never really a thing between them, though. Sure, they got a… bit competitive over Kacchan’s affections (More like slight tolerance), but they were always friendly with each other.

Fine line between friends, enemies and rivals, he supposed. Despite their pretty rocky relationship, of course he felt awful when he saw how upset he looked. He mouthed something that Izuku couldn’t quite make out. Another out-of-character action. Kirishima was always loud.

Chalking it up to his head injury (at least that was what he assumed it was, since no one was forthcoming with information, even after they told them about Kacchan’s death), he continued to listen in. It was weird and creepy, he knew that, but his curiosity took over. He was worried about Kirishima and his mentor, so he wanted to figure out what was wrong.

“Young Kirishima… let’s have a talk.” His voice was laced with concern, which he usually reserved for Izuku, or one of his close friends. (Usually Shouto and Kacchan, but sometimes others.) Kirishima’s body went rigid, before he acquiesced.

Trailing off in his agreement, Izuku realized that he… was crying. It was odd, considering his endless positivity. Now that he thought back, he realized that he had never seen Kirishima cry before, no matter how bad the situation was. A constant ray of sunshine. How did the saying go?

‘People cry, not because they’re weak. It’s because they’ve been strong for too long.’ He deserved a good cry. It made him feel awkward, though.

Crying wasn’t a problem for him, seeing as he cried every other day (his poor tear ducts never got a day off), but because he shouldn’t have been there. It should’ve been just the previous #1 hero and the red-haired golden-retriever-turned-human talking.

“I could… really use a- a talk, thanks.” All Might pulled him into one of his award-worthy hugs, in a heartwarming scene. Izuku almost stopped feeling bad because of the sheer purity.

A mischievous grin spread across his face. It was always comforting to see him smile, despite how unnervingly long it was, taking up over 3 quarters of his abnormally gaunt, emaciated face. “It’ll be okay kid. Why?” He asked, using his lowest voice to replicate his other form’s. Oh my god. YES!

“Because YOU ARE HERE!” Kirishima finished, regaining his usual, excessively loud volume. He may have not been the biggest All Might fan, (Crimson Riot? Izuku respected his work, like all other heroes, but really? A favourite hero? There were better options, for sure) but he could still easily finish the famous line of the retired pro hero’s.

Not even realizing it, he said the same words. Thank god Kirishima was so loud, or else he would’ve been discovered. He would suck at spying. Fortunately for him, there were MUCH bigger distractions at Kamino ward that day, or else his loud mouth would’ve gotten them killed by AFO.

“Young Kirishima, what’s been weighing on your mind?” Unnecessary question. “I know it’s about… young Bakugou, of course.” Then why ask? “But, why are you having a strong reaction now? What triggered this?” Oh. Maybe he should’ve waited for him to finish his sentences before internally judging him.

All Might had really gotten better with comforting kids. He really earned the title of ‘pops’ and ‘Dadmight’ from the class. One of the two parental units for the 1-A kids with sucky parents or lack of a good support system. There were a surprising amount of Izuku’s classmates that were like that. He must’ve felt terrible about not being with those kids after Kacchan’s death.

Letting himself grieve without feeling bad about it was Izuku’s dream. It was a pipe dream, for sure, but not all of his dreams had to be attainable, now, did they? Neither he nor his fill-in father were great with that.

At least they had Aizawa with them. He was dad #2, which was a surprise to literally everyone - except Shouto, Kacchan and Shinsou for some reason - but quickly became committed to the role. The class caught on quickly and started calling him ‘dad’ or ‘dadzawa’. Some of them even went the extra mile and treated the two father figures as a married couple, which made (Aizawa especially) very uncomfortable. The other just looked confused.

His quirk coach sat Kirishima on the stairs of the main school building. He nudged his shoulder, encouraging him to answer his question. “Um… it’s kind of complicated and hard to explain. It’s about Katsuki, of course it is, but not in the way you’re thinking.”

Not in the way he’s thinking? What was that supposed to mean? And when did he become ‘Katsuki’ to him? Everything about that sentence confused Izuku. “Maybe so. I don’t know what’s going on in your mind. But, if it’s too difficult to explain, we could talk about that’s causing you distress.” Those ‘teaching for dummies’ books were really working out for him.

“Oh… there’s nothing else. I- I’m fine. I should be fine.” Should be, huh? He was so clearly in denial about his feelings. Maybe All Might should’ve taken up therapy. More money in the hero business, though.

“You’re feeling guilty about young Bakugou?” He said it like it was a question, but it was more of a statement. Kirishima paused for a minute, body going stiff once again. “I… understand how you feel.” Made sense. He had admitted to blaming himself for things out of anyone’s control. “Although it’s not your fault, it’s perfectly reasonable to feel that way. Most heroes have the same trait. In fact-”

---

Cutting All Might off was something barely anyone had the reason or the balls to do. But, Kirishima was known for his manliness and guts, so he did what no one else had done. “You don’t understand! It WAS my fault!” He had never sounded so upset before.

“You may feel that way, but you’re not responsible for his actions.” All Might explained, rattled from his outburst. “His death was his choice. He saved a civilian in the most heroic action he could take-” He cut him off once again.

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” He was grasping at his hair, which, weirdly enough, wasn’t gelled up like it normally was, tugging a few strands out. He was frantic, tenser than he’d ever been. “I WAS THE CIVILIAN!” All Might couldn’t say anything, just like Izuku. What could he have meant?

Truthfully, they knew, but they didn’t want to accept it. Accept that Kirishima had to go through the unbearable guilt that they thought was thrust upon an innocent. It was worse, taking into consideration how long he knew Kacchan, how deeply he cared for him, not a stranger. “HE… he… got shot because I was too weak to defend myself.”

Passion that rang throughout his voice died out, replaced with melancholy and overwhelming grief. “I don’t even remember what happened, I don’t know how I was made defenceless, since that’s the only thing my quirk is any good for. I want to remember. Maybe I can thank him properly if I knew what he did. I can’t tell him how heroic he acted, or how grateful I am, I can’t remember.” Oh, god.

“Anyone who was there, that witnessed it and remembered either doesn’t care enough to give me any information, or is too upset. I don’t even deserve to be upset about it, since I know-” He cut himself off that time.

Not knowing what to say to the rest of it, All Might just asked for some goddamn needed clarification. “Know what?” Izuku didn’t care about that part. What he really cared about were all the other parts.

Thinking he didn’t deserve to grieve, no matter the reason, was awful. He was painfully aware of the insecurities that plagued Kirishima, but this was a whole new level. And worse, he didn’t remember the events that caused Kacchan to die, the inaction of everyone else while he was bleeding out, the impulse reaction to the gun, the accidental activation of Blackwhip. All the pain.

Kacchan’s best friend felt like he wasn’t able to thank the grave of the person - the best friend - that saved his life because he didn’t know what had happened. That was awful. The absolute worst part?

A person who knew what had happened, withholding that information from someone who was in pain was crouching behind some bushes like a coward while he said these things. Listening in, not doing anything, not saying anything. Izuku thought he was going through something awful, but it wasn’t even half of what was going on with Kirishima, the person he claimed to like, to respect, to admire, to envy, to EVERYTHING.

So, heroic instincts kicking in, moving before his mind had the time to catch up, Izuku popped up out of his foliage hiding place.

All Might’s and Kirishima’s heads shot up to look at him. “Uh, I can tell you.” They both looked too stunned to respond. All Might looked almost… happy to see him? “About what happened to Kacchan that day.”

This would probably end up being a terrible decision, but he couldn’t control what he said at that moment. Far too impulsive for his own good.

But after seeing Kirishima’s excited face, he couldn’t bring himself regret it.

Chapter Text

To say that Eijirou was surprised to see Midoriya leap out of the bushed was a gross understatement. It made sense that he could hide there, seeing as his hair looked very similar to the bushes, but it was still weird. How long was he there? Was he listening in?

As much as he wanted the answers to those questions, he really didn’t. It would make the situation even more awkward than it already would’ve been. Unnecessary tension was unneeded and unwanted, so why create it, right? All Might didn’t seem to feel awkward at all, instead, looking ecstatic. It made sense, since the hero and aspiring hero were rather close, and they hadn’t seen each other in quite a few days.

Opening and closing his mouth, Midoriya decided on speaking rather than staying there in silence. Probably the best decision. “Uh, I can tell you.” Finally explaining himself? He had to admit, he was curious.

“About what happened to Kacchan that day.” Finally. Someone willing to explain what he had been asking about since he woke up. Someone who could tell him exactly why he should be thankful to Katsuki, what he had done for him. He couldn’t help being excited, despite his prior sadness. It must’ve shown, since Midoriya looked a little more spirited.

“I didn’t know that you were the person he saved. I was really out of it. I just saw Kacchan’s body… bloodied and slumped over in your arms. I-” He paused, tears filling up in his eyes. “Activated Blackwhip on accident, almost suffocating the woman who shot him. By the time Shouto got to him… his heart had already stopped. The ambulance came pretty soon after, so I thought there was a possibility, but-” His tears were overflowing by that point.

Walking over to Midoriya’s position, All Might put his hand on his (obviously favourite) student’s shoulder. With that subtle support, he pushed forward. “But he didn’t make it.” He knew that much at least. “He did it of his own volition, so you shouldn’t feel guilty about it. Weirdly enough, he did feel better.

That being said, he didn’t think that he should’ve felt upset in the first place. He not only knew that Katsuki was still around, but he was the person who could communicate with him.

“Thanks, Midoriya. I’ll… leave you two. To talk.” As to not be rude, Midoriya didn’t voice his gratefulness at Eijirou leaving, but he obviously wanted to be with All Might. There was a reason why Todoroki had not yet been convinced that he wasn’t his father. The whole ‘secret love child’ thing made sense, if he was being honest. Leaving the dad and son to talk wasn’t entirely selfless, though.

Rushing back to Height’s Alliance was probably a bad idea. His health as a whole, specifically his wrecked lungs, were still terrible after running for hours. But, he had somewhere to be. Nothing could stop Eijirou if he had a goal.

Where was he going? Well, to the last place he wanted to go at that moment, of course. Katsuki’s room.

After he rushed out of the nurse’s, it was probably the place Katsuki was most likely to be. No matter his state, living or dead, it was still the place where he spent the most time, the private, comforting space just for him. Few people had ever entered there. It was limited to just the Bakusquad… and Todoroki that one time.

By 7:15, he had made it to the fourth floor, since it was only a seven-to-ten-minute walk from the school’s opening gate. Walking down to the next-to-last room, he hesitated. Steeling his nerves like Tetsutetsu, (which was apparently something that he could actually do, as he recently discovered. How crazy was that?) he walked through the dorm’s door.

And, as expected, Katsuki was lying on his bed, probably contemplating his existence, as he often did. “Hey Katsuki.” He had never seen him look so startled.

Sitting right back up, he finally spoke. “Hey…” He trailed off, before gathering his thoughts again. “You’re back. I didn’t think you were going to be coming back. Are you… y’know, okay?” Fair question, but not the easiest to explain. He didn’t want to explain it either. Not a great combination.

Barely even coming to terms with it himself, actually. Who would want to straight-up confess love for your friend, who happened to be the same gender and biosex as you (as far as he was aware) and was in love with another guy? Answer: probably Katsuki, because of his sheer guts, bluntness and tactlessness. Eijirou was honestly surprised he hadn’t already confessed to Shinsou.

That was, before he remembered the situation in which he found out about for his feelings for the insomniac in the first place. He was just coming to the realization that he was in love with him the exact moment Eijirou had walked in. What perfect timing, huh?

Suddenly, he felt guilty. Instead of being there for his friends in a time when he was probably having an existential crisis, he ran straight out the door without even bothering to ask how he was doing. He probably just interrupted Katsuki processing the information when he walked in. It was almost cruel.

The whole time, Eijirou was only thinking of how HE was handling the difficult news. Emotions and Katsuki didn’t mix, especially when it was something outside of annoyance or pride, much less affection! How difficult would it be to confess when you were dead? How was Katsuki handling those unbearable things? Could Eijirou even help him?

After a beat of silence, Eijirou realized he had asked a question, and he couldn’t remember what it was, since he was so lost in his thoughts. He expected a hint of irritation from his friend, but he only found patience in his normally hyper-intense gaze. “That’s fine.” What was fine? Was silence an acceptable answer? Should he have clarified that he didn’t remember or hear the question?

Panic must’ve shown on his face, since Katsuki clarified. “You don’t need to tell me about your emotional state. I was just… worried, y’know? The way you rushed out of there.” He scratched the back of his neck. He looked so timid and vulnerable, in a way he had never shown before.

Confusing as that expression was (as a lot of them had been around that time) he still responded. “I’m fine. It’s not even any of my business what you said back there.” An uncomfortable silence. The worst kind of silence. I mean, not that there were many types, but there were enough to make uncomfortable silence the worst.

“None of your business?” Katsuki leaned forward to look at him properly, studying his face. “Are you serious? It’s completely your business! Who’s else would it be?” Who’s else would it be? What kind of question was that?

“I have nothing to do with you or your love life!” Katsuki was rendered speechless, which was thought to be impossible by many people. He just floundered around, open and closing his mouth. “I mean, if you want to talk about it, I’m here, but it’s-” He looked borderline offended. What was he doing wrong?

“It’s just that, if you love Shinsou, it doesn’t bother me, okay? Why should I even care, man?” He almost shouted it. He was lying through his teeth, but he needed to carry through, to show that he was totally fine with it, even if that wasn’t true. He couldn’t make their friendship, which he valued so much, get awkward, no matter the cost to his emotional state. “Shinsou is a perfectly… respectable person.” He said, trying to convey his approval.

And he burst out laughing, like the inconsiderate bastard Eijirou was so, unbearably in love with.

“You think-” He wheezed in between words. “You think that I’m in love with SHINSOU?” Disbelief and amusement was all throughout his voice. “HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SO OBLIVIOUS?”

… Then who was he talking about?

---

Katsuki had been nervous ever since Eijirou left the nurse’s in the main school building. He didn’t get nervous about much, but this thing in particular made him on edge. He almost followed him, but after accidentally confessing your love to someone, who proceeded to run right out the door, you wouldn’t be too keen on following them, no matter how worried you were for both them and your potential heartbreak.

Lying on his bed, contemplating his next steps for if (when) he got rejected was the only thing he could think of doing. What else could he do? Repairing a friendship after telling them you were in love with them was hard enough, but when they were the same sex as you and potentially straight, after knowing them for a couple of years, it was even harder.

Absently, he wondered if Eijirou would ever come back. He knew it was stupid, that Eijirou wasn’t that kind of person, but he couldn’t help but spiral. Everything was going wrong. Avoiding coming back to UA to prevent the awkwardness wasn’t THAT farfetched.

Okay, maybe it was, but he was allowed to panic, alright? He didn’t even know if he wanted Eijirou to come back. Well, he wanted him there to become a great hero, of course, but he didn’t want to have the inevitable discussion with him. Maybe he should’e just left. He was worthless as a dead man, so he should’ve made the sacrifice of leaving the school forever, just to avoid the upcoming awkwardness. That’s what he liked to call ‘common courtesy’.

Granted, Katsuki didn’t have the greatest view of what ‘common courtesy’ was, since parenting skills weren’t exactly spectacular in his family, but what he planned on doing seemed courteous enough.

Almost done with his existential crisis, he planned on getting out of bed and leaving to throw empty cans at children in Peru or something. But, (for better or for worse, jury’s still out) The man of the hour, (and of Katsuki’s dreams) Eijirou walked through the door. Katsuki practically leapt in surprise.

Normally, he would be on guard all the time, so he wouldn’t be surprised by anything, but being a ghost was really dulling his defensive instincts. Eijirou was the only one who could surprise him anymore, and Katsuki wasn’t expecting him to casually drop by like he did. He probably looked like a goddamn idiot. “Hey Katsuki.” And HE sounded like a goddamn idiot. Match made in hell, indeed.

“Hey…” God, he sounded like a dumbass, trying to keep it chill after he confessed his love right in front of him. He forgot how he was going to finish his sentence for a minute. He had contemplated it for a solid 6 and a half hours, but the words just slipped away with him.

Improvisational skills weren’t his forte, so he just said the first thing that came to mind, like usual. Bluntness was kind of his thing, even if he came off like a jackass. “You’re back. I didn’t think you were going to be coming back. Are you… y’know, okay?” Not that blunt! Why would he tell him that he was worried he wouldn’t come back, or ask him how he felt? Asking about someone’s feelings? It should’ve been revolting to even think about!

Upon realizing a half a minute went by without Eijirou answering his question, only looking downright frightened, he attempted to regain some pride, to clarify that he didn’t actually care, even if he did. “You don’t need to tell me about your emotional state. I was just… worried, y’know? The way you rushed out of there.”

Ha. Ha. What the fuck? So, to summarize, he wanted to show him that he didn’t actually care about how he basically rejected him and that he didn’t care about his feelings, but ended up both showing more nervousness and telling him that he was very concerned about emotions. HOW FUCKING GREAT AN EXECUTION, HUH? MAYBE HE SHOULD’VE JUST KEPT HIS MOUTH SHUT, BUT HE COULDN’T DO THAT FOR ONE MINUTE, COULD HE?

Nervously, Eijirou made eye contact with him. “I’m fine. It’s not even any of my business what you said back there.” He said simply, shrinking into himself.

Sorry? “None of your business? Are you serious? It’s completely your business! Who’s else would it be?” What the fuck was he playing at? Was he denying that Katsuki loved him? Did the idea of it disgust him so much?

Standing firm on that ridiculous notion, Eijirou explained it to him almost patronizingly, like he was a child. “I have nothing to do with you or your love life!” Yeah, that was accurate enough, oh yeah, except when YOU WERE THE PERSON HE WAS IN LOVE WITH!

He was almost offended by the fact that Eijirou was willing to go to such lengths to separate himself from Katsuki’s love. “I mean, if you want to talk about it, I’m here, but it’s-” He searched for the words he needed, looking stunned at Katsuki’s expression of indignation. “It’s just that, if you love Shinsou, it doesn’t bother me, okay? Why should I even care, man?”

Everything else that Eijirou ranted about past that point was a blur to him. He thought that…? He started wheezing. Jesus Christ, he was self-deprecating. “You think-” He tried to calm down enough to speak properly.

“You think that I’m in love with SHINSOU?” Katsuki didn’t care whether he was interrupting, because he needed to get the message through his skull. “HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SO OBLIVIOUS?” He yelled/laughed/asked. How did he get to that conclusion?

Then he realized.

He just backed himself into a corner that would force him to tell Eijirou who he was really in love with.

Shit, he should’ve really started thinking about things before saying them immediately. He needed a censoring bar constantly following him around.

Chapter Text

“Not Shinsou?” Finally. It took long enough for him to catch on. Maybe he wasn’t as stupid as originally thought. “So, that must mean…” Going down the right path. There was no possible way he could screw it up from there. “You’re in love with Todoroki!” He said it in almost an accusatory tone.

*Ahem*. COMPLETE IDIOT! Where was he getting all these people from? A complete ignoramus. No, he didn’t deserve Katsuki’s fancy words, he was a fucking himbo. Muscly, respectful of women (particularly lesbians), basically a golden retriever turned human, and dumb as all fuck. “WHAT? FUCKING ICY THOT?” He was torn between laughing and beating the shit out of him. Well, more like pushing him with his ghost-power-thing.

“Give me a fucking break, Eijirou. He wishes.” Eijirou still looked skeptical. Moron. They had hooked up before, duh, they were both hot as hell and great at cuddling aggressively, (wink wink), but neither had been interested in having a romantic relationship with the other, no matter how close they had gotten, or how much they’d upset the girls who were always obnoxiously confessing to them.

“But, you said it was your best friend.” Exactly. How was he not getting this through his dense-ass head? “So, it’s obviously going to be either Shinsou or Todoroki, right?” If his head was tangible, he’d smack it against the nearest hard surface.

“NO. Where are you getting this from?” He wanted to strangle him. Well, he actually wanted to, uh, go crab fishing in the Dead Sea with him, but that was purely out of frustration. One of the best kinds, in his opinion. Worked pretty well too, since he was just about always pissed off at something or other. He probably needed to talk to the school’s psychiatrist about that…

Grunting in frustration, he tried to explain. “You said it was your best friend, so it must be one of the two. Wait, do you mean Denki?” He suspected Katsuki had a crush on the damn lightning rod? The theories were getting crazier and crazier.

Shouting out another huge ‘NO’, Katsuki attempted to regain his sanity. Was he that in denial, that insecure, that oblivious, or that repulsed by the thought of Katsuki loving him? He didn’t know which one he’d prefer. They all seemed like sucky options. Why was he attracted to that rock?

Morosexual, through and through. “Oh. I get it.” He didn’t bother getting his hopes up, since clearly, he was just going to be disappointed by- “Your best FEMALE friend. Sorry bro, didn’t think of that.” by his idiotic answers. UGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Eijirou started spitfiring names of all the possible girls he could love. “Uraraka? Tsu? Yaoyorozu?” How did he not get that Katsuki was a flamboyant gay? In fact, nobody did, except Insomnisnacc and Half n’ half.

Despite Katsuki’s response to the other girls, he continued. “Is it Jirou? No? What about… um, Hagakure?” Who now? “Please don’t make me say it… full-frontal lover? Oh yeah, is it Mina?” How could he guess every woman who existed in his proximity and not even consider himself? “Wait, what about that girl in 1-B who you always hang with. Nah wait, she’s dating Kodai. There’s the provisional license girl who talks all weird.” did he mean…?

“D’you mean Camie? Your gaydar must suck, since she’s gay as the day is long. As am I. Obviously.” Pushing him in the (sort of) right direction wasn’t something Katsuki necessarily wanted, but he was so fed up with his bullshit. “So it’s a dude.” Way to state the obvious. Apparently, it wasn’t obvious to some people, but it was still pretty damn out there.

“So you ARE gay? You’d think after living with two moms for over fifteen years would make me better at spotting the queers, huh?”

Moms? He was really lacking in personal information about him. Their parents were never mentioned in conversion between the two. While his problem was obvious, Eijirou didn’t seem to have any problems with his moms, so why didn’t he ever talk about them? His other idiots (friends) didn’t talk about them either, not even Mina, who knew him the longest. He felt like interrogating him about them, but decided to stick to the matter at hand.

Besides, Eijirou seemed laser focused on their main line of questioning. “So, who is it? I’m kind of insulted that you don’t consider me to be your best friend.” he said with a mock pout. Jesus Christ, he wanted to nail his head to a wall somewhere. It was a great opening for him, though.

“I DO consider you my best friend.” Not entirely accurate, he considered him to be the person he wanted to bone, so it was kind of inappropriate to just label him with the ‘friend’ title.

Bracing himself for inevitable rejection, he looked down, avoiding eye contact. Eye contact had never been a big deal for him, and he always made sure to keep it, since looking away would be a sign of submission, but he didn’t want to maintain it with the guy who was about to break his heart.

“Aw, thanks.” That’s not the direction he expected it to go. Even with a positive reaction, it’d be weird to start it with that. “But, I know it’s not me, so it just makes it even more confusing. I appreciate it, though.” MOthErFUcKeR.

“Actually… I get it.” No. He didn’t. Whatever he was thinking, whatever he was going to say was going to be wrong. “It’s Midoriya.”

---

Katsuki was rendered speechless. After every single stupid name he had gone through, he expected there to be so many more stupid ideas. Sero or something. That’d actually make some modicum of sense. After all the things they’d been though, he never expected to be betrayed in that way. To be accused of being in love with an insufferable nerd who he so despised?

A new low. “It all makes sense.” No, no it doesn’t. “Your complicated, tense relationship, childhood friends, Midoriya’s obsession with you. I thought I stood a… but you were already together, huh?” Stood a what? Not that THAT was his main priority, but it concerned him. His immediate reaction was to defend himself, considering how serious those accusations were.

(The following sentence is censored simply for the sake of protecting the sanity and the potential innocence that remains of the reader) “******* ***** ***** ****** *** ***** ********** ****- **** *****! I mean, the first time we talked, when this whole mess started, I even said that Deku and Icyhot should become a couple, which is another reason why Todoroki and I shouldn’t be together. It’s just casual sex!” Eijirou choked on his spit.

“Oh, calm down, I’m eighteen, nitwit! Deku? DEKU? Sure, he’d be the first to admit he had a crush on me as a kid, but we’re just friends. You know what, we’re not EVEN friends. We’re rivals. ENEMIES.” He shouted at him.

“Okay, okay, I take it back. But, can we circle back to the whole ‘casual sex’ thing later?” No. Definitely not. He regretted saying it in the first place. If they had a discussion about every time he banged someone casually, they’d spend hours more of wasted time.

Thinking about it, the class 1-A vs. 1-B relationship competition included hook-ups as well as romantic relationships. If he divulged the information about all his sexual endeavours, they’d lead by 47 points, at least. Granted, he wasn’t sure about all the relationships, it was high school, after all, but there weren’t enough people to outdo him.

Frustrated groaning was the only thing Katsuki could think of doing. He didn’t want to directly tell Eijirou that he was legitimately head-over-heels in love with him, and he wouldn’t pick up on it, so he was stuck. Forgive him if he couldn’t think of anything to say. Having a full-on mental breakdown over there, and Eijirou wasn’t catching on. “Why did you even come here in the first place, man?”

Reasonable question. Yet, he hesitated. It was rare for the impulsive teen to be anything but straightforward, even if it tended to make him look like a complete moron. So, what could’ve happened that made him reluctant to say something? “I wanted to say thank you.” That didn’t explain anything.

Thanking people was kind of his thing. He would do it for just about anything. To acts of basic human decency, to acts that were barely decent, or less. Why would he wait to thank Katsuki?

Most people wouldn’t thank him, because of all the messed-up shit he did, but Eijirou wouldn’t hesitate to thank him, no matter what he would do. Every semi-thoughtful act performed by him would never go unnoticed or unappreciated by him. Even if it was something difficult to say, he’d say it without hesitation. It was one of the main things he respected about him. Always up-front and genuine, and never hesitating.

Which meant it would be something heartbreaking and/or a thanks he didn’t deserve. Both sucked equally. “For saving my life.” The heartbreaking one. Fuck. Never mind what he thought before, that was the worse option.

“How… did you know? I don’t think I told you.”

“You didn’t. I don’t know why, though You totally saved my ass, and I want to express my thankfulness, and you didn’t tell me. That’s really unlike you, y’know.” Yeah, he really didn’t hide when he did something awesome, but he didn’t feel like telling anyone that particular thing for some reason.

“I guess… I didn’t want you to know because it was what any decent hero would’ve done.” He scoffed.

“Then why did no one else in the room, including the number 1 hero and future top ten heroes make react when a gun was being pointed at my head? No one except you, Katsuki.” He was surprised that Eijirou knew that much. Didn’t he have concussion-induced amnesia about the event?

“Well, I did say DECENT heroes.” He laughed. He hadn’t laughed in a while. It was… nice to hear it again. “Plus, I wasn’t the only one reacted. The woman holding the gun did.” He joked. The wrong joke to make, it seemed. His laughter stopped abruptly, leaving nothing but sombreness. It was really the wrong joke.

“What woman?” Huh?

“The one who shot me, duh.”

“Katsuki, did you consider that… she used her quirk to make you a ghost?” Uh- “And that she could possibly undo it?” It was a rhetorical question. Because he was pretty damn aware that he didn’t. Yet, there was an answer.

But it wasn’t an answer from Katsuki. It was from Icyhot, of all people. “I did.”

Katsuki prepared himself for him to go full conspiracy mode. Except this time, he wouldn’t just put up with it or shut him up.

For once in his life, he was going to actively listen.

Chapter Text

Shouto said his goodbyes to Midoriya as he went to got to his therapy appointment with the doctor. Dr. Omori, maybe. 5:30 seemed like a weird time to talk to a therapist. No particular reason, he just didn’t like having other things to do at that time. It was when he had his weekly poker game with Ojirou.

Even though it was put on hold due to the whole thing with Bakugou, but he was still habituated to leaving the time free. So, naturally, he had nothing to do. And when Shouto had nothing to do, he theorized.

If he wasn’t aiming to be a great hero, he’d definitely find a way to do conspiracy theories professionally. And, as a professional, he was constantly looking for new theories. And with one staring him straight in the face, who was he to ignore the calls of the reason behind the biggest mystery that was happening in the school, possibly in the world?

The reason behind Bakugou Katsuki’s ghostliness. Truly the grandest mystery. With his new crazy board set up, he was prepared for his fresh case.

Two hours, five coffees, three redbulls and many strings, cue cards and brainstorming sessions later, he had about three thousand possible theories. He had narrowed it down though, since testing all of them would be next to impossible for him, even if he was willing (which he was) to dedicate his entire lifetime to figuring it out, he still couldn’t confirm all of them. Five main ideas.

Testing them wouldn’t be too hard, but narrowing it down even further would be faster. After managing to find out every public or classified (don’t ask) bit of information he could find on the villain that killed Bakugou.

Her quirk wasn’t in the registration (don’t ask how he got in), neither was her birth parents, so he couldn’t guess at what her quirk might’ve been.

According to her doctor’s records (DO NOT ASK), when she turned four, she wasn’t diagnosed as quirkless, since she still didn’t have an extra joint in her… thumb, maybe? She still had a quirk, it just hadn’t been activated, since it needed an extremely specific activation. It sometimes happened, since quirks varied from anywhere between being able to steal light from stars to being able to weave baskets in under thirteen minutes.

Invisible quirk, was the diagnosis. People treated others with invisible quirks as second-class citizens, the same as quirkless. Functionally speaking, they were like quirkless people until discovering the activation for it. Even then, more often than not, they’d end up being basically useless.

So, the possibilities were endless. But, Shouto was willing to bet it had something to do with ghosts. Just a hunch.

All he needed to find were some specifics of Bakugou’s murder and phenomena that may have occurred around Otsuka Sumi (the woman’s name.) in case she activated it without even knowing or without reporting it. The latter would prove to be more difficult, of course, since he couldn’t look at every odd thing that had ever been reported and look around the photos to see if Otsuka was in any of them. Well, he could, but it would take too long.

Thus, he stuck to the first one. The details were harder to find, so he just got photos of his corpse. It sounded traumatizing… and, well, it was, but it was for theories’ sake, so he was willing to do just about anything.

Even if that meant the memories of witnessing his friend’s death came back to him all at once.

And that meant ALL the memories. When the villains surprised them with a drastic increase in numbers, when he used up his power stupidly at the very beginning of the fight, when he witnessed Midoriya freak out and Blackwhip exploding, when his father had to knock him out to prevent him from murdering the murderer, when he ran over to save Bakugou after an entire minute of standing still, when he found that his pulse was… no longer was there. The blinding panic attack that ensued afterwards.

As horrible and disturbing that was, it did help with his research. His time of death, where he was shot (since he wasn’t paying much attention to his body at the funeral, or had at least repressed the memory), what other injuries he had, what costume the attacker wore, what support items she might’ve had, everything he was trying so desperately to discover.

Unlocking those memories wasn’t even something that occurred to him until after it had happened. Probably because they were destructive to his mental health, but that didn’t matter compared to the benefits.

‘That’s self-destructive thinking Shouto’, is what Aizawa would’ve said if he were there, but he didn’t want to go through his imaginary, parental lectures right then, even if it would be beneficial in the future. There was too much to be discovered. Those little details weren’t even the best part.

Remembering everything helped even more than he would’ve suspected. Why? Because it raised a new question. And new questions led to answers. Lesson number one in his theory business. You see, while everyone was frozen in place, there were tons of possible opportunities for Otsuka to finish everyone else off. They were in a state of shock, after all.

Shooting everyone dead would’ve been easy. There were enough bullets to take everyone out. It would’ve proven to be even easier considering that almost half of them were unconscious. It raised the question that would unravel the whole mystery. Why didn’t she take advantage of the serendipitous occasion? The opportunity to kill the number 1 hero? Shouto would’ve taken it. If, uh, if he was a villain, that is.

From what he remembered, she was just as frozen as the rest of them. It’s not like she wasn’t expecting it, since she pulled the trigger, so why would she be so stunned? No, stunned wasn’t the expression on her face. She was PISSED.

Something didn’t go according to plan. It was obvious that she just wanted to kill someone, not Kirishima in particular, so why would she be so upset that she killed someone else instead?

Unless the fact that Bakugou sacrificed himself influenced that. It made it so he was dead, sure, but not quite the level of dead that she wanted him to be. Say, and he was just spitfiring, ghost-like? With a potential possibility of coming back to life?

That would sure throw a pretty big wrench in their plans.

---

With that new theory, he knew exactly what to do. He thought about telling Shinsou first, but it was far too important to the investigation to discuss it with Bakugou and Kirishima, to get information from them to confirm his story. Bakugou would have had more information than Shouto did at that time, considering he was the one who was experiencing it.

Sadly, getting in touch with him wasn’t as easy as it used to be. He needed to get in contact with Kirishima to talk to him. Kirishima was like a dollar store Ouija board who could talk to one specific ghost. Pretty useless for just about anything other than talking to someone else. Sorry.

Calling Kirishima wouldn’t normally be too hard, but according to Shinsou’s brief text, something was weird between the two best friends, but this was more important than any spat. But, he wasn’t getting the memo, and didn’t pick up the phone.

Auspiciously, just because he wasn’t answering his cellphone didn’t mean that it wasn’t ringing. He heard it from the hallway on the fourth floor, coming from Kirishima’s room. He knocked, and although he didn’t respond to his question, ‘can I come in?’, he didn’t say no, which he interpreted as a ‘yes’. So, he opened the door, looking for him.

But, all that was there was his phone on an unmade bed, with the ringtone of the song sung by an American singer, Katy Perry, which he vaguely recognized because his idiot classmates would play that every time he walked into class. That was why he always came earliest, so they wouldn’t have the chance before Mr. Aizawa interrupted and glared at them. The perfect plan. Kirishima having that damn song as his ringtone was an unforgivable insult.

‘Why was he in such a rush that he didn’t bring his phone with him?’ He pondered over it for a minute before remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

What good luck he was having that day. He heard talking in the other room. BAKUGOU’S room. He pressed his ear right against the thin walls. Shouto silently wished that Shouji’s quirk was his at that moment. He could make out a voice. One voice.

“I wanted to say thank you. For saving my life” That was definitely Kirishima. His voice was recognizable. A pause. Wasn’t he going to elaborate? “You didn’t. I don’t know why, though. You totally saved my ass, and I want to express my thankfulness, and you didn’t tell me. That’s really unlike you, y’know. He was talking to himself. Meaning, of course, that he wasn’t actually talking to himself. He was with Bakugou.

Silently, he moved to go to Bakugou’s room. He caught snippets of their conversation. “What woman?” Woman? Could he have meant…?

“Katsuki,” Katsuki? Since when were they using each other’s given names? “Did you consider that… she used her quirk to make you a ghost?” Maybe Shouto really underestimated Kirishima. He seemed to be on the right track.

“And that she could possibly undo it?” Wow, REALLY the right track. Kudos to Kirishima. Even he didn’t get it that quickly. And Kirishima still didn’t remember the incident due to his moderately severe concussion. Maybe, after they got everything sorted, he would induct him into the conspiracy kids.

Well, Katsuki probably didn’t think about it, so he wouldn’t answer his question for pride’s sake. So, it seemed like the perfect time to make his entrance. “I did.”

It was time to talk quickly and indecipherably with nonsensical information all over the place, like every conspiracy theorist.

But, if it seemed like he had information, maybe Bakugou would actually listen to his rants for once.

He would abuse that power SO HARD!

Chapter Text

‘Attentive’ wasn’t the first word Eijirou thought of when it came to his best friend. In fact, he’d never tolerated listening to anyone, especially when they were rambling, (Midoriya) for longer than a half a minute.

Defying all his previously shown inclinations, Katsuki wasn’t speaking, wasn’t hesitating to lean forward, carefully listening to Todoroki’s every word. Not even putting in even a side comment or quip to cut through the other man’s blathering that even Eijirou, the greatest listener in their class, couldn’t quite keep up with.

Snippets and fragments were the only things Eijirou could process during the ridiculously overcomplicated and long talk. There was something about a person - female, maybe - murder or murderer, or both, theories, and memories? He was speaking so fast the rap god would be put to shame. His head just couldn’t keep track, so Eijirou just sat there, pretending like he knew what was being said.

Finally, Todoroki paused, and took a breath that he hadn’t for the entire past minute. That was worrying. “That’s it.” He said it like it was nothing, like it was possible to decipher all that.

“Huh. That’s… it?” Todoroki wasn’t picking up on his confusion and need for clarification, in typical Todoroki fashion.

“I know there could’ve been more,” Could there of? He didn’t know if that was possible. And if it was, he didn’t want to hear it. “But, in my defence, I only had two hours.” Was that time dedicated to practising that speech in the mirror? “And, I got us a solid lead on what to do next. Sure, you already figured out a part, but I at least had something.” A lead?

Now he REALLY wished Todoroki would’ve talked slow enough for possible comprehension. What was he going to do? He needed whatever information Todoroki had! He had no ideas for next steps. He wasn’t really a ‘planning’ type of guy.

Looking close to laughter, Katsuki put a hand on Eijirou’s shoulder. Well, he attempted to, anyway. It just went through him, of course, but he got the gist. He turned to look at him. “Couldn’t keep up?” What a smug asshole. Why wouldn’t he just make out with him already? “No worries, I can recap.” He was keeping up? That was both impressive and terrifying, especially considering his poor and rapidly deteriorating hearing.

“What’s the catch?” He asked skeptically. It could never be simple while asking a favour from Bakugou Katsuki. What was the phrase? *‘Deal with the devil’*? Todoroki suddenly watched their conversation with rapt attention. What was it with his fascination with Katsuki’s ghostliness? Was that even a word? Maybe.

Laughing, he admitted there was something to it. Of course there was. He couldn't make it easy, even when it would benefit them both. “I’ll only tell you if you punch and/or insult Icyhot. Believe me, it is VERY satisfying. You won’t regret it, and he won’t snitch on you for it.”

Of course that just had to be his condition. He even spoke about it from what was obviously personal experience. “What did he say?” Todoroki asked, bouncing a little on his seat. His usual, bored expression was once again replaced with excitement. He was way too fascinated for it to be normal. The ‘casual sex’ thing popped up in his mind again, which pissed him off just a little.

Apparently, a bit of anger, jealousy and curiosity was enough for him to follow Katsuki’s instructions. He punched him right in the chest. “SHUT UP HALF N’ HALF BITCH!” He shouted.

Both Todoroki and Katsuki wheezed, but for different reasons. One was from laughter, (two guesses as to who.) and the other was from being winded. Yup, he hit him hard enough to wind. Shit. “I said and/or! Not that I’m complaining, this is awesome, but you had the option. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to accept either one.” Fuck, yeah, the insult was probably unnecessary. “I have never been so proud of someone in my… well, death.” He commented with a fake sniffle.

“Quit being such a smart ass, bastard.” Katsuki started laughing even harder. He realized why after looking at Todoroki’s face. Way to put salt in the wound. “Oh my god, I am SO sorry. I was talking to Katsuki.” He let out a soft, almost inaudible ‘oh’, and went back to clutching his chest. That would bruise quickly.

Eventually, he regained his composure, and got treated by Eijirou to the best of his (admittedly limited) abilities. “That was eerily reminiscent of Bakugou.” It was, wasn’t it? “Was it possession?” He asked like a hyperactive child.

Possession? Jesus, him and his theories. “No.” He looked baffled. “You… talked quickly and slept with my best friend, and I felt like punching you to get information from Katsuki.” He answered as truthfully as he could. That was probably a bad decision, but so was everything else that Eijirou did in the past seven-ish hours, so why not add on to the giant pile?

“O… kay?” His explanation didn’t seem to clarify anything for him. “I have questions.” Fair enough. “What information, how did you know I slept with him, and did I really talk that quickly? I mean, I know it was pretty fast, but it wasn’t bad enough for you to punch me. Was it?”

“No. It wasn’t. Sorry, I’ve just had a kind of shit day.” He nodded sympathetically. He couldn’t picture Todoroki actually punching someone. “Oh yeah, the information. Katsuki, I held up my end of the bargain, it’s your turn.”

Acquiescing, Katsuki recapped. “The woman who shot me, Otsuka somethin’ or other, her quirk is almost definitely what turned me into a ghost. She didn’t mean to make it happen, meaning she can’t control the activation. She might be able to turn it off, though. He also knows what prison she’s in, so, with the help o’ some ‘brutal investigators’, whoever the hell they are, they could stop this.” He said nonchalantly.

Great, so they had a pretty huge lead. No biggie.

… Okay, maybe it was a bit of a biggie. He was internally panicking. Possibly outwardly, as well. “Are you okay, Kirishima?” Nope. No, he was not. They were just going to casually ask some people if they would help interrogate Katsuki’s murderer about her quirk? That was a viable option to them?

He voiced his concerns to Todoroki, and he simply nodded. “It is a viable option.” It wasn’t. “Because the brutal investigators are Shinsou and Aizawa.” Um.

“Okay, the Shinsou part makes sense, but why would the realist, Aizawa, believe us and go and interrogate her? And I’m pretty sure Katsuki is fed up with proving himself to people. It’s pretty far-fetched, and the only people that believed it so far are actual conspiracy theorists! No matter how much we want this, it’s never going to happen, SO WHY EVEN TRY?!” What was supposed to be a simple explanation turned into an upset rant.

After a pause of silence, Katsuki was the next to speak. “They know.” They… know? “Not just Aizawa, dunce face too. I… thought you knew. The way you were trying to make an excuse after talking to me. Sorry.”

Awkward silence. The worst kind of silence surfaced once more. “Did he tell you?” Todoroki asked quietly. Eijirou nodded silently.

“I… may have a few issues I need to sort out.” Katsuki nodded. “Maybe I should ask Midoriya for the number of his therapist.”

“Oh, Dr. Omori. She works wonders, especially for depression and PTSD.” The fuck? “Not that I’d know…” How convincing of him. “Um, Midoriya told me. Anyway, I can give you her number.” Originally, Eijirou was kidding, but he probably needed a bit of therapy.

“Wait a minute, that means we could actually, possibly bring him back.”

“Yeah, we really could, dumbass.”

He felt better for the first time in a week. Katsuki tended to do that to him occasionally. One of the many reasons he was in love with him.

---

“Mina. Mina, open up. I have awesome news bro. Open up.” Denki had been dying to tell someone, anyone really, about what he heard in the nurse’s office. He was a bit of a loudmouth (duh), and couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, so he was close to bursting.

Honestly, he was surprised he even made it to Height’s Alliance, much less past the common room with, like, a million people in there, since noon was the prime time for hang-out sessions, even when their friend had recently died. Maybe even because of that. See Bakugou, he was capable of having deep thoughts.

All the way to the fourth floor, too! Denki was so proud of himself. Really, the first person he thought to tell was Jirou, but that would probably be awkward. Not because he was attracted to her or anything- that’d be ridiculous, she was just a friend, no, he just thought it would be awkward because she would make fun of him for pitching such a stupid theory. Meanwhile, best bro Mina would totally believe him. She was just as stupid, after all. (Sorry babe.)

But, she didn’t answer. It was weird, since she always answered because of her extremely sociable nature. He didn’t see her in the common rooms, meaning as long as she didn’t go out, (which was unlikely, considering how on edge the teachers were after one of their students died.) she should’ve been in her dorm room.

“Mina, you okay?” He asked, starting to get worried. Not even the sound of breathing came out. That got him worried. He wasn’t a doctor, but he was pretty sure not breathing was bad. There were other explanations before freak out time, though.

Interrogating the people still in the common room was the only thought that came to mind. Then again, he never had many thoughts. They were a bit busy interrogating him, though.

“Are you okay?” “Why didn’t you come down before?” “We thought you were dead, man!” Dear god, how was he supposed to explain that he almost died by being crushed by a floorboard coming from Eijirou’s room, and after he reopened his head wound, took him to the nurse’s office, where he found out (along with Aizawa. Not Shinsou, because he apparently knew the entire time and didn’t tell them) that Bakugou was actually a ghost. That would make him look super crazy, obviously, especially since neither of them were there to prove anything.

Or was he? Maybe Bakugou was invisible and watching them right then? That was a kind of terrifying thought. “You were almost killed by a floorboard?” “His head wound reopened?” “Ghost? Invisible? What are you talking about?” Ah. Fucking. Idiot.

“Oh, just a… screenplay I’m writing. Yeah, I can write. How awesome is that? Anyway, where’s Mina?” God, they knew he couldn’t write. They didn’t mention anything, though. Pitying looks in their eyes were all that were visible to him. Oooooooh. They thought he was mourning. That was… upsetting as hell.

“I think she’s with Sero in his room. Are you okay to go up there?” Definitely. He wanted to spill everything to her. Sero being there was just a bonus. He was the third stupidest. Why Bakugou decided to hang around with them was beyond him, since he was apparently one of the smartest in the class. It was probably because of Eijirou. They had gotten pretty close over the years.

So, this time he went all the way up to the fifth floor. “SERO, MY BRO, I HAVE NEWS! THIS IS. CODE. BLACK!” The door burst open.

“A code black? Bro, we haven’t had one of those since Mina saw him sucking dick with a possibly heterochromatic dude. (which I’m still betting was Todoroki)” What the hell is up?” Explanation is probably necessary right now.

See, a code black was what the Bakusquad called it when something insane happened with Bakugou. The dude was pretty damn predictable, so when he did something or something happened to him that was crazy, they all talked to each other about it. Half for concern for his safety, half for gossip’s sake. Well, more 30% 70%.

“He’s. A. Ghost.”

“Sick dude! Come on, we’re both stoned, and Mina’s gonna be stoked.”

Denki had great friends.

Chapter Text

Icyhot ran off to go get help from the two insomniacs (who were apparently not biological father and son) to bring him back to life or whatever it was that he was trying to do. Eijirou seemed… off. Like, his normal, happy self. That would’ve normally been great, but it was contrasting his upset self just a few moments before.

“You seem… not sucky.” Katsuki wasn’t good with words. As was apparent. But, he was worried about Eijirou. Sure, he looked better, but he seemed genuinely grief-stricken after hearing… it, even if he didn’t know what he was actually talking about.

Even if he couldn’t say ‘hey, are you okay?’ all casually like some people could do, but Eijirou knew him well enough to understand his intentions, so he knew to translate that to genuinely telling him how he felt. Katsuki liked when things were genuine, and he knew that. There were many things he knew about him like that. He missed Eijirou. Badly.

“Are you kidding?” So that was a no. True, after Icyhot left, they caught up and, as it turned out, Eijirou had been running for a solid four hours without a proper resting period. Again, he wasn’t a master of emotional intelligence, but he was pretty sure that meant that he didn’t feel okay, even if he didn’t understand exactly WHY he was upset. “I’m awesome right now!” What? Okay, he REALLY wasn’t emotionally intelligent.

“You’re awesome? I didn’t even think you’d be… okay.” It didn’t make sense. Before he came back, he looked distraught. But, Eijirou looked shocked. Astonished, even. It was confusing.

Dumbfounded for a solid minute, he decided to clarify, as was needed. “Dude, how can YOU not be awesome?” Maybe because he was dead, and his emotional state had basically collapsed in on itself. He thought that was a pretty good reason. “We could actually, y’know, get you back. For real, man.”

Oh. That. “Yeah, I don’t really know.” It was plain and simple. He didn’t know. That whole time, he never had a sliver of hope, and when he did, he was disappointed.

“You… you don’t know?” There was no judgment in his voice. When he thought about it, there never was. It was very refreshing, compared to all the people who didn’t bother understanding him. But, he was still confused. “This could be the best chance we’ve got at bringing you back.” That was probably true. But, still. “You want to talk about it?”

“I dunno. It’s not like I said no or anything, I just don’t know. They can go and do it, but it’s a waste of time.” Eijirou had that look on his face again. The shock, the astonishment. “Well, everything else has been a failure, and it’s not like I’m worth spending what - hours? - on interrogation.” The shock didn’t fade, in fact, it just increased. “It’s not like, I’ll ever get b- better, or have a- a future, o- or um.” He trailed off.

Fuck. Another fucking panic attack. Not like he had enough of them in the day alone. He couldn’t believe it had only been a day. That the whole thing had just been a single week. And it would never end. Shit, he was spiralling again. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.

Repeating that pattern for a few minutes, he managed to calm down. It was an awful, terrible routine that had unfortunately become common for him. But, on the bright side, it made it easier for dealing with shit like that. “You okay?” He nodded, since he still didn’t feel up to talking. Understandable. “Okay, well, do you want me to address any of the stuff you said or…?”

Yeah. Probably. Whenever he freaked the fuck out or something, Kirishima, with his overwhelming positivity, helped to balance him out. “I won’t say it will definitely work out, but there is a strong possibility that it could!” There was that overwhelming positivity again.

“I guess… but we don’t know anything ‘bout her quirk. It’s all just one ridiculous conspiracy theory that has almost no proof backing it.”

“Fair point. But, it’s at least worth a shot, especially if we can resurrect ‘the demon’.” He said mockingly. They both laughed a little before he continued. “Because even if it ends up not working out, it’ll still be okay, even if it takes hours, ‘cause you’re worth it. 100%.” That damn idiot could always make him feel better.

All he wanted to do was hug the red haired sweetheart, but he wasn’t tangible. He was usually pretty averse to touch, but things were always different with him. “You’re probably right. Anyway, shouldn’t you be ‘fixing’ your hair right about now?” He shot straight up, running directly to the communal bathroom, cursing like a sailor under his breath. With everything that had occurred, it probably completely slipped his mind that Recovery girl had to water down his millions of hair products to check his wound.

He decided to head down to the common room. He hadn’t gone all day, since he was either in the midst of an existential crisis or hanging out with Eijirou. It had been a long day, and since he couldn’t sleep, being near his friends was the next best thing.

God, that sounded so cheesy. He wanted to gag himself. He would go down nonetheless. Katsuki really had changed since the beginning of their first year. Friendship and intensely traumatic incidents would do that to you. Mostly the traumatic incident part of that. Like, SO much trauma. Several villain attacks and one kidnapping (which just so happened to be his.) wasn’t the most pleasant thing.

Walking out of the door, he realized that he had opened it. Casually placing his hand on the doorknob, out of habit. He tried to go through the doorknob, like what was supposed to happen, and it went straight through. Then he tried turning the knob again, and accomplished his goal.

Going through it, turning it, he repeated it over and over again. How the hell? Turns out, he had been focused on that doorknob for fifteen minutes, so Eijirou had the time to finish whatever satanic ritual he performed to get his hair to stand up in all its spiky glory. “How the hell are you doing that?” Who was he, google? He didn’t fucking know about any of this shit. Lately, he hadn’t known about a lot of shit.

“I dunno. I can pass through it if I want, or I can touch it? It’s confusing. Maybe we should tell Half n’ half about it. He probably has some sort of theory about it. Or we could find Mind fucker.” Eijirou raised an eyebrow. “Shinsou? Those two’ll probably be together. Two birds one stone sort of thing.”

Bonus, he could also pass through the dorms. Maybe throw some shit at people, which was apparently something he could do almost effortlessly. Eijirou agreed, (not that he needed permission or anything, it was just easier that way) and bolted right out of the opened door excitedly. He couldn’t guess what he would be so happy about, but whatever it was, he was glad to see a smile on his face.

Katsuki rushed right after him. It wasn’t hard to keep up, seeing as he could hover over the floor, moving at what seemed like unlimited speed. Yet, Eijirou, for whatever reason, thought it’d be a good idea to race him to the ground floor. He obviously didn’t account for the fact he could go right through the floor in a few seconds.

Thankfully, he could stop himself from going through the floor he intended to land on. Too easily, really. He expected some sort of challenge, but as soon as he saw the telltale worn-out sofa, he halted on the poorly carpeted floor. Icyhot was gonna love that mystery.

Wow. There were more people than expected. Almost everyone in the class was there. Suddenly, he was glad that nobody could see him. Way too many people. Even worse, about half of them were crying. UGH. They had to be emotional and all gathered in a herd? He came down to relax and chill with his friends, but they were being… ugh. Y’know?

Moments later, after he had taken in the morose scene, Eijirou finally arrived in the room. “Took you long enough, slowpoke.” He said, chuckling. Honestly, he expected it to take longer. It seemed impossible that he climb down four flights of stairs in under one minute. He had been working on endurance, his greatest weakness in battle, but it still appeared unnatural that he could do something like that. Had he practised running recently?

“Shut up, bastard. You played dirty.” He managed to get out between heavy pants. He did play dirty, he wouldn’t argue that, but he would argue that he shouldn’t have responded when at least ten other people were in the room, none of which knew. (that he knew of, mind you. Who knows what the other idiots did or who they told? It seemed that they spread the news rather quickly.)

If they were lucky, maybe they wouldn’t mention it. “Who are you talking to?” Then again, their luck was kind of shit, wasn’t it?

---

Shouto was excited. Like, bouncing-out-of-his-seat level of excitement. Could you really blame him? His theory had gotten even more proof in the last minutes of his research, Kirishima believed him, as did Bakugou, (or at least, that was what he was told) and he already had a course of action after just two hours or so.

Unsurprising that he had come that far, since he could probably take over the world while solving JFK’s assassination in a week as long as he didn’t sleep and lived off caffeine. He did his best work while his health was at its worst.

True, almost none of his theories panned out, but he couldn’t be blamed for believing those things. (*Cough*, Midoriya is All Might’s secret love child, *cough*) But this time, he was sure of himself. Not that he normally wasn’t, but it was more so than normal. He was the first to discover that Bakugou was a ghost, (other than the person who could actually see him) and as of 8:03pm, Saturday night, he was the first who had a plan in place.

Not only was it simple and straightforward, but he even chose out the two perfect test subjects - I mean - willing volunteers to help with the interrogation of Bakugou’s murderer. They were both seeking vengeance, AND they already knew of his… situation.

While he was focusing on the positives, which is something Dr. Omori had suggested doing frequently, Kirishima was going to therapy. He obviously needed it, after dealing - or not dealing - with the loss of his best friend, even if it was only temporary. Every feeling, no matter how short-lived, was valid. A wise quote from the school’s therapist.

Separate underlying issues were bubbling under the surface of Kirishima’s mental health as well, which was clear after the punch to his chest, which already completely turned purple. Having his friends get the help they needed was one of his favourite things. Although, it’d only happened once before, and it was forced by the school. He was going voluntarily, which was a pleasant change in pace.

Therapy. Midoriya. Midoriya in therapy, with doctor Omori, which Shouto had dropped him off at two and a half hours ago, and even with the walk he was planning, and the hour and a half long session, he was late. They had planned for him to pick him back up near the school gates an hour ago.

With his phone turned off while he was brainstorming, theorizing and researching… IT MEANT THAT HE HAD NOT BEEN IN CONTACT WITH OR SENT SOMEONE TO CHECK ON A DEPRESSED INDIVIDUAL, AND HE HAD NOT COME BACK TO THE DORMS

Oh, dear.

Turning his phone on proved to be quite the endeavour, (ugh, even using as a word was repulsive) with his five-year-old phone and dead battery. But, with effort, he managed to check his phone. It read; 8:07, Saturday, 3 missed calls. THREE. The last one being about twenty minutes before. That wasn’t a great sign.

Naturally, he almost broke his laggy phone with how fast he tapped the ‘call’ icon out of concern. He was a rich-ass dude with eight credit cards, (one of wich was Touya’s. He hated their shared father, but he was still a murderer. That was worse than whatever his shitty old man had done) so he probably should’ve gotten an upgrade since he turned thirteen. His first and only phone. How pathetic.

After three agonizingly long rings, there was a sound at the other end. He had picked up. Tension he hadn’t realized he had seeped out of him the moment he heard Midoriya’s sweet voice. Finally, he could breathe.

“Sh-Shouto?” That one, shaky word shattered his cold, nearly indestructible heart into a million fragile pieces. Son of a-

“Midoriya?” It wasn’t really a question, just an affirmation that it was him. There was a sigh of relief from the other side of the cellular phone. He assumed it was relief, anyway. Deciphering the complexity of emotions wasn’t really his forte. “I am so sorry, I took so long, you completely slipped my mind - god, that sound terrible - I accidentally prioritized my theories again, I had a responsibility, where are you right now?”

It was no secret that Shouto was a fast talker when he was worried or excited, it was just that it was rare someone saw him worried or excited. At that time, Shouto was a dangerous mix of both, leaving his words nearly indecipherable.

Emphasis on the ‘nearly’, though. Shinsou and Midoriya could understand his rambles, and weirdly enough, Bakugou? So, he might’ve been able to follow his guilt-fuelled rant. “Shouto, calm down!” Midoriya responded with a soft laugh. A laugh that sounded genuine. What happened? “I’m with All might right now. We’ve been talking a while. I was worried about you, but you were just investigating, huh?”

Oh. Great, he was with someone else. “Oh, okay. I’ll be on my way in a minute. I just have to talk to some people. You’re by the gate, right? Stay safe, and keep talking to your companion.” He said in his routine monotone.

“Yup, by the gate. Actually, I’m kind of patrolling it with him? Love you, bye.”

“Bye.”

Right, he’d take care of that after talking to Aizawa and Shinsou. That took slightly more priority than Midoriya at that moment.

Wait, did he say ALL MIGHT?

Nope, Bakugou still took higher priority. If anything, Midoriya being accompanied by his favourite person lowered it.

Wait, did he say LOVE YOU?

Yeah, there was no fucking way he was putting this aside for his second-favourite friend. It’s not like it was time-sensitive or anything.

Or was it?

Chapter Text

Izuku sat down with his mentor. They had a lot to discuss. They both felt like the responsible parties for Kacchan’s death, and both were too stubborn to concede the blame to the other. So, the only option was to talk it out, and come to the reasonable, healthy and true conclusion, that neither of them had anything to do with it.

Regrettably, they sucked at that. So, instead, they went into a thirty-five-minute argument about how much they believed they sucked, and blaming every horrible thing that’d ever happened to the world on themselves. Right where they expected to end up.

“You can’t blame yourself for Kamino Ward! You saved so many people, and took down AFO for god’s sake! Getting hung up on petty details and saying that-”

“Petty details? I lost my powers because of my recklessness, which led to many horrible things happening. Every villain attack, every mission, every teaching moment, I could have been there if it wasn’t for my complete disregard of future situations. That includes the mission that young Bakugou participated in.” Izuku groaned loudly. Would he quit blaming himself for being heroic? It had been over a year since the Kamino incident.

“You wouldn’t have been allowed anyway. It was an Endeavour-Fatgum team up, and Endeavour hates you. You’re way too overpowered, so it would defeat the purpose of teaching the work study students. Students like me, who should’ve protected him, or acted after he was shot, but was too beat-up to move because of my stupid martyr complex.” He argued back. He felt a little bad for yelling at All Might, but he was being an idiot, and needed to see that it was Izuku’s fault.

“But, if it wasn’t for your heroic actions, you may have not defeated the villains. Then, everyone there could’ve died.” See, they were getting on the right track. Instead of coming up with another bullshit reason why he was the one to blame, he was consoling Izuku. “Meanwhile, I-” Goddammit.

“NO. No way, I’m done with this, whatever you were going to say about how it’s ‘your fault’. Let’s just… compromise, and say that neither of us are responsible.” He nodded in agreement. They were getting better at- “Even though that isn’t true, since I’ve known him for longer, and I should’ve predicted that he would jump in front of the gun, so it’s obviously completely my doing.” Never mind, they would never get better.

“Come on, for most of your time knowing each other, he was in the midst of ignoring you!” Harsh much? He covered his mouth in surprise, and Izuku let out a surprised gasp. They’d officially gone too far.

As he tried to apologize, Izuku decided to interrupt. “I know he didn’t care. But, I cared. I should’ve known. I was always following him around, studying him. I knew every little detail, I know how he’d react in any situation. I knew everything because I loved him.” Tears were streaming down his impossibly round face. God, would he ever grow out of his crybaby nature?

He had never meant to tell All Might about his past feelings for Kacchan. He never really meant to tell anyone. Of course he loved Kacchan. Everything about him was always so amazing, he was attractive, and he had, every so often, shown kindness to him, especially after their rescue mission in Kamino.

In fact, he was the only person Izuku had ever loved. Next to… well, that didn’t matter. He was competing for Kacchan’s affection and admiration with Kirishima since the two had first spoken. But, eventually, he moved on, acknowledging that the other competitor would be the only to win his heart. He deserved it, and it took about three minutes for him to see Kirishima as an equal. He never really fell out of love, just… went forward. Reached out to new people.

It certainly didn’t lessen the pain of losing him any. Even if they didn’t have any chance at a romantic relationship together, they were still best friends. All he wanted to do was be near him. But, that was impossible. Unless he went to his grave, of course. But, last time that he was there, he had to be forced into therapy after attacking someone. Not the greatest memories, really.

“You loved him?”

“No duh.” Okay, that might have been emotionally charged. But, he had admitted it just a few moments before. Did he really need to say it all over again? “I mean, yeah, I did. My first and only love so far. I think.”

“You think?” It was complicated, okay? “So, he’s a guy.” Way to state the obvious, man. “And you’re a guy.” Oh, no. “So, that means you’re…” All Might, don’t do it.

“Bisexual. I’m bisexual, with a preference for women, actually.” All Might looked shocked. Why would he be shocked? It wasn’t like it was a big deal. Unless… “Holy shit, are you homophobic?!” Jesus Christ, was his mentor, and the person he admired most for years the opposite of what he stood for? Did he eat the hair of a bad person?

Instead of going into a defensive stance, like Izuku was oh so familiar with, he burst out laughing. “Homophobic? Oh, dear.” He continued to howl with laughter, which was not a proper answer in Izuku’s opinion. He nudged his mentor on the arm until he managed to calm down enough to suitably respond. “Young Midoriya, I’m asexual panromantic. I was just surprised that you were so comfortable telling me that. Back in my day everyone was hiding that sort of thing. God, saying that made me feel old.”

Wow, that was unexpected. “Oh… sorry.” He laughed and brushed his apology aside, saying how it was unnecessary, and that he should’ve been the one who should’ve been apologizing.

Meanwhile, Izuku’s mind was elsewhere. They were by the gates, in the same place for the past forty minutes or so. Shouto should’ve met him there quite a while ago. Was he okay? Did he get lost? Did he go back to the depressive, unmoving state people sad he did three or four days before? He had trouble quelling those anxieties.

He missed Shouto.

---

“-Right?” Damn, he wasn’t paying attention. So, he responded in the way he always did when he didn’t hear them. Respond in a vague way that seemed to be correct? Nope. Panic? Yup. He was visibly sweating and trembling. “Are you okay young Midoriya?” Absolutely not. Not in any sense of the word.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you, I’m just worried about Shouto. He was supposed to be here forty minutes ago, and he’s never late, especially not when it comes to therapy.” He ranted, slowly sinking into even more worry. Contrasting that feeling, his teacher was smiling. Not his usual, comforting, huge smile, but a sly, knowing grin. It was just as big, because of his unnatural mouth-to-face ratio.

“Well, why don’t you call him?” He insisted that it was impolite, but honestly, he was itching to make the phone call. He whipped it out faster than he ever had, well, next to when Stain was attacking him and Iida in the alleyway. It was to contact Todoroki in that case as well.

Voicemail. It went straight to voicemail. “Hello. It is Todoroki Shouto. I cannot predict what would make it so I could not answer the phone. Don’t bother leaving a message, I will call back as soon as I am available.” The straightforwardness of it was laughable, but his worry overtook it. There was a reason, after so much time of knowing each other, Izuku had never once heard his voicemail. He was always by his phone, always answered it, no matte how inconvenient it was to everyone around them.

Meetings, school, work studies and internships, he always answered his phone. Why wouldn’t he do the same then? He attempted to call another two times, but again, no response. All Might grabbed his arm as he tried to make a fourth call. “If he hasn’t picked up the last three times, he won’t until his phone is available to him next.”

He was right but that didn’t make him any less concerned. There were so many thoughts racing around his mind. “Come on, let’s patrol together. It will be good practice for you. And it’ll take your minds off things.” Honestly, sometimes Izuku thought that he was a mind reader or something. Patrolling was the only real option, since it’s not like he would just wander around aimlessly if he didn’t have a purpose, or end up worrying even more. No other distractions came to mind anyway.

The eighth and ninth wielder of one for all talked for another twenty minutes, before his phone finally rang. His conversation was left forgotten as he reached into his pocket to answer, but All Might didn’t seem to mind. He seemed to be letting tons of things slide.

Thankfully, the caller ID was Shouto’s. But… was it him? He could’ve been kidnapped, and someone might’ve been calling to threaten or blackmail him. Nevertheless, he answered. “Sh-Shouto?” He asked timidly.

“Midoriya?” That was him, that was his cold, monotone, beautiful voice. He could finally breathe once more. Relief overflowed in him like a well, emotion overwhelming him. Izuku had a huge kickback of all the things he had been repressing. He hoped that the phone muffled a bit of the crying. “I am so sorry, I took so long, you completely slipped my mind - god, that sound terrible - I accidentally prioritized my theories again, I had a responsibility, where are you right now?” He ranted.

Izuku couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s ramble. Sometimes he could get so overly excited about things. “Shouto, calm down! I’m with All might right now. We’ve been talking a while. I was worried about you, but you were just investigating, huh?” He asked calmly, as to not upset him any further.

“Oh, okay.” He instantly went back to his normal tone. “I’ll be on my way in a minute. I just have to talk to some people. You’re by the gate, right? Stay safe, and keep talking to your companion.” Companion? How very formal. And why did he have to keep talking to him?

Right, he forgot to clarify exactly where he was. “Yup, by the gate. Actually, I’m kind of patrolling it with him? Love you, bye.” He hung up. It wasn’t until after he went back to patrolling the gate that he realized what he had said.

“LOVE HIM?” All Might screamed. He burst out laughing, like him accidentally slipping up like that was something hilarious.

“I- I didn’t mean that, I was just distracted, Oh god.” He covered his face in shame. Did he mean it? He had never really thought about it, but when he did… could it have been true?

Maybe he wouldn’t notice?

Yeah, fat chance.

Chapter Text

They sat in silence.

Technically speaking, Katsuki could talk, he wasn’t the one who needed to keep his mouth shut, but he was far too shocked to no what to say. He didn’t believe it was possible for Eijirou would be such an idiot. That he could have so little spacial awareness that he didn’t notice about half of their class all sitting in the same room.

“Who are you talking to?” He would’ve believed that he could find his way out of the not-so dire situation, but after witnessing the many messes they had gotten themselves in because of Eijirou’s inability to properly lie, his hopes weren’t all that high.

As expected, instead of just saying he was talking to himself, or leading them to believe they misheard him, he just sat there, frozen and eyes blank. Katsuki didn’t bother helping him, since he’d just end up screwing it up. It wasn’t and insult, or lack of faith, as they both already knew it was a statement of fact. It was almost close to a physical disability to not deceive when it came to him. Honest to a fault. At least he would always know Eijirou was being genuine.

“Kirishima?” It was Ponytail who spoke up. Her voice was filled with concern. She and Eijirou had never been close, but she was pretty chummy with Katsuki.

After he got more time to study, they always competed for the number one spot in all the tests and exams. They also competed for tutoring. He stole about half of her students, then even more after he scored number one for the first time. She got some from other classes ‘playing dirty’ as she called it, although he’d just call it playing smart. Competition was always formed the greatest bonds when it came to him, whether it was fighting with or against him.

With the amount of competition between the two, there was no way they wouldn’t end up being something close to friends. So, relaxed at least a little hearing her voice. He knew she wouldn’t attempt to force anything out of him. She was far too gentle and respectful for that. Her tone was open and welcoming of answers, but not forceful. It made you want to tell her everything, even though she genuinely wasn’t trying to guilt-trip anyone. His willpower fading after hearing her soft tone was practically visible. It was laughable, really.

“Umm, I was talking to… I can’t say.” His resolve to keep quiet one of the few times Katsuki would’ve given in was both infuriating and almost admirable. But, he was obviously close to throwing in the towel and spilling the beans to everyone in the room. He was actually SHAKING. Not just an involuntary tremble, but full-on palpitations. Completely ridiculous.

Smiling softly, Momo simply said, “I understand. Would you like some tea?” that was it. Nothing more. When he didn’t respond to her innocent question she spoke again. “I’d recommend tulsi tea. It helps with coping with grief and healing. You need a bit of both.” She suggested sadly. How could a single human being be so damn pure? Icyhot wasn’t wrong when he called her a goddess. He was sure if Shouto wasn’t gay as fuck, the two’d be dating.

Quickly realizing the depths of her innocence, Eijirou looked like his knees were going to give out. There was no way in hell he wasn’t going to end up telling her everything if she asked a question or made a comment even somewhat related to Katsuki.

Not that he really minded if he told anyone; it was mainly for his friend’s sake. The idiots pestering him to no end to hear what Katsuki had to say, (not that they hadn’t done enough of that just regarding his head injury, which would most certainly be aggravated by their chatter) or thinking he was clinically insane.

Again, and he couldn’t repeat it enough, someone would have to be an idiot to believe them, even with evidence. The proof they could provide was purely circumstantial, and the only reason their rational -specifically, not an idiot - teacher had any faith in their ridiculous, nearly improvable statement wasn’t because of the goddamn medicine bottle, but because he already had a suspicion about it. The bottle didn’t hurt though, if he was being honest.

Though he’d never admit it aloud, his classmates were actually pretty intelligent, despite calling them ‘idiots’ both in his head and to their faces. They wouldn’t but the whole ‘hey guys, I’m a ghost’, and they didn’t have the time for them insisting Eijirou should go to an asylum or something, and frankly, he didn’t have the patience to help him talk his way out of it.

Nodding in approval of Ponytail’s recommendation, she went off to start boiling the kettle, which would’ve startled Half n’ half if he were there at that moment. She didn’t do it with her pep and excitement that she usually had while making tea, and that made Katsuki feel uneasy and upset.

Although he would have admitted said it before, he missed his friends being loud and annoying. It was unsettling when they weren’t all smiley and shit, and it really brought the mood down. Plus… he wanted them to be okay again, especially when he knew he was the one causing their sadness. It was almost… guilt. Shut up, he wanted them to be happy for purely selfish reasons!

“Oh, looks like it’s ready! How very exciting.” Everything she did, even announcing the tea’s state, she did with unbelievable authenticity. There was not a single fake thing about her, yet, she was obviously holding something back. Obvious to Katsuki, anyway. He may not have been the greatest with emotional intelligence, but he was a master at telling what his friends were feeling. Not just any friend, but someone he felt a particularly strong attachment with. Ponytail was one such person. So, he knew for certain that something was wrong.

After she poured it out, Katsuki spent a good two minutes just staring at the beautiful, ornate teacup and the fall-leaf coloured tea, best described as an ‘fa8223’ paint colour. He may not have looked it, but Katsuki loved tea. It was another reason why he and Ponytail had bonded. Honestly, he was a bit of a tea snob. He never thought of any tea highly, but...

The tea she made looked amazing. Smelled great too. Huh, he had olfactory senses? He supposed that made a little sense. It wasn’t like he lost any of his other senses. Hell, he could probably taste too, if he could get it in his mouth. Wait, could he get it in his mouth?

Apparently, he could touch inanimate objects, or whatever the determining factor was, but could he drink tea? It wasn’t like he needed to drink to survive, as he was still dead, but was it possible? More importantly, could he do the testing process to taste the amazing-looking tea without the seemingly floating kettle being seen and discovered? “Fuck it, I’m gonna drink it!” He announced to Eijirou.

Though he almost ended up choking out of surprise, he didn’t make a move or a noise to tell him to stop, yet he obviously wanted to. It’s not like he could’ve stopped him anyway. He wasn’t tangible… sort of, and more importantly, he was too stubborn to be stopped verbally. ‘Resilient’ was the term he preferred to use, but he was most certainly a stubborn brat, he wouldn’t argue that point, as he’d most certainly lose the debate instantaneously, and, he was a sore loser as well.

Imperceptibly making his way through the communal kitchen, weaving past the many obstacles (people) blocking his path, he reached his destination. Thankfully, there was no one else in the area where the tea was. Ridiculous. Everyone should’ve been crowding around to take a sip of the light orange liquid. Sometimes he couldn’t understand people.

Pouring the tea was easy, but that wasn’t the part he was nervous about. Not that he should’ve been nervous, it wasn’t a big deal, and the worst that could’ve happened was spilling tea on the floor. It wasn’t even carpet or anything.

At least, that was what he thought the worst that could’ve happened.

Hoping for the best, he attempted to pour it into his mouth. And, with his terrible luck, it only made sense… that it worked. The strong aroma did not mislead or disappoint. It was on the bitter side of taste, but that’s exactly what Katsuki liked. Coffee had never been his style, not quite what he was looking for, but with the tulsi tea’s hint of lemon-y flavour and zing and soothing feel to it, there was no doubt that the newly brewed tea was his favourite.

“HOW THE FUCK?”

Damn. They saw a floating teacup. That would be hard to explain.

Totally worth it, though. The tea was damn good.

---

Mezo wasn’t too surprised to see Kirishima. He had been through an ordeal, sure, but he still had things to do. He was surprised, though, to see that he was very openly talking to Bakugou. He didn’t want to call one of his beloved classmates an idiot (it was just in his Hufflepuff nature), but if the shoe fits, wear it, right?

“Who are you talking to?” Tsu asked the obvious question, the question that was on everyone’s mind. She always seemed to.

But, he sat in silence, looking blankly into space. Was Bakugou talking to him, or was he just caught off guard? No one else was saying anything, only waiting for a reaction, but getting nothing. Until Yaomomo, that is. “Kirishima?” She asked softly. Not another word was needed to express her concern. Her emotion was always carried in her eyes and voice. Both were shining with worry.

After another beat of silence, where he just stared her dead in the eye, making her visibly uncomfortable, he took an uneven breath, finally speaking. “Umm, I was talking to… I can’t say.” Wow, Mezo wasn’t really one to make fun of others, but his lying was so terrible it was laughable. He actually had trouble suppressing a grin, which normally wasn’t a problem for the stoical, octopus-like man. Kirishima really had to improve his equivocation (and quieting down, for that matter) if he wanted to keep Bakugou a secret.

Actually, he didn’t really understand why it was being kept a secret. Maybe to lessen the pain in case their classmates didn’t believe him, or in an extreme case, a fear that they’d force him into a mental hospital or something. Admittedly, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

Above all, Mezo was trustworthy, and trusting too. Sometimes trusting people made him vulnerable, but he could handle that, if it meant not living a life of paranoia. So, he trusted that they had good reason to keep it a secret, and wanted to keep their trust by doing anything and everything in his power to keep it a secret along with them until they decided the time was right. It wasn’t his decision to make, after all. Even Shinsou and Todoroki agreed.

So, he kept an eye out for his spiky haired friend, and would cover for him if he slipped up. First off was dealing with Yaomomo. Wow, that sounded ominous. He would just (with a heavy heart) mislead the poor girl. “I understand. Would you like some tea?” Oh. Never mind then. Was she that easy to convince, or was she just that understanding?

Either way, she was far too pure for their cruel world. He was starting to sound like Tokoyami. Next thing you know, he’d be discussing ‘the great purification’ and discussing his darkly lit cult. Yaomomo started rambling about the best kind of tea she’d make, while Mezo, like many others, continued to stare at Kirishima. He hadn’t moved since he was first sat down at the table at the class vice representative’s behest.

Many people looked like they wanted to ask something, whether it was about his emotional state or continuing the questioning from before, so it didn’t look weird that Mezo was staring like the rest of them, even if he wasn’t considered the most intrusive person. He was surprised that Tsu managed to keep quiet with all the unanswered questions.

Seven minutes passed, and people were starting to worry about Kirishima. Not that they hadn’t been before, but it was getting weird. Not only was he sweating more than his… *ahem* feisty best friend, but he was also practically catatonic for the entirety of the seven and a half minutes, only blinking thrice throughout. After she finished making the tea, he started moving, though. He quietly thanked her, and took a sip of the tea. Kirishima didn’t normally accept hot beverages, saying how much he loved the cold, so she looked especially excited.

Just two sips in though, he choked. Everyone started crowding around him, taking the opportunity to ask him questions. Yaomomo tried to fend them off, but they were like vultures. Vulture who wanted the best for their friend. Mezo took the opportunity to walk off to try and find what caused the choking reaction.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Uraraka had walked in to get some of the tea, not hearing the commotion from the other room, wanting to get her hands on the tea her friend had just brewed. Only, upon her arrival, instead of a fresh-looking, barely drunk teapot, she found a floating tea cup. Mezo witnessed it happening, which just happened to be coinciding with his bird-like best friend looking at it. Little did he know, he’d be grateful for that.

Everyone came rushing in after hearing Uraraka shout; “HOW THE FUCK?” both out of worry for her safety, and because they wanted to see what would make the cinnamon roll swear. It was a VERY uncommon occurrence.

As they filed into the kitchen, they all saw what they had seen as well. Not only the floating teacup, but they had also saw it tip backwards and… not spill? In fact, it just disappeared into thin air. If there was any sort of doubt in his mind before, (which there was definitely not) Bakugou was there. Who else would it be?

Kirishima just looked exhausted and, for some reason, unsurprised. How would he explain this one? As it would turn out, he didn’t actually need to, since Tokoyami stepped up. “I know how to explain this.” He stated before anyone even had to ask the question on their minds. Did he know? And if he did, was it really his place to tell? “There is only one explanation. THE DARK LORD HAS RISEN FROM HIS SLUMBER!” He cried.

Jesus Christ, Tokoyami was always dependable when it came to preaching about his dark cult. “Lord, I thank you for gracing me with your presence, and though our latest ritual may not have brought your physical form to this plain, I promise, I will report back to your many followers, and we shall do everything in our power to fully grant you your stay here!” He bellowed from across the room, getting down on his hands and knees. “Do you have a prophet in this realm who may guide us? Please, direct me toward their light.” Tokoyami requested humbly.

Suddenly, the teapot was thrown at Kirishima’s feet. The tea was drained from the cup, so it didn’t stain the carpet, though the pretty cup was shattered. “He is your chosen prophet? Clear a path, one and all, he is your dark saviour’s prophet, your connection to the shadow demon!”

Summoning an inexplicably snickering Dark Shadow, he formed a path, as promised, for Kirishima to walk through. Some were still trying to get through, to understand what was ACTUALLY happening, so Mezo assisted. He had always supported Fumikage’s weird cult thing, though some said that endorsing it would only ‘encourage delusions’, but he knew playing along would come in handy one day.

Specifically, to convince him that he wanted to ‘aid with the prophet’s endeavour’ by moving everyone to the side, when he was really trying to get Kirishima wherever he came down the stairs to be. The perfect cover. “Yes, one and all, move aside.” He said in monotone, since he kind of sucked at acting.

Using his tentacles to block people from coming through wasn’t too hard, but convincing people that he actually cared about the ‘dark lord’s rising’ was harder. But, Tokoyami was so dedicated to the cause that he couldn’t recognize when someone was faithful to his shadow demon god thing. Everyone else on the other hand, were not so easily convinced. “What’s goin’ on, Shouji?” Uraraka asked from behind one of his arms.

“Don’t worry,” He whispered back. “‘The prophet’ needs to be somewhere.”

Chapter Text

Eijirou was so shocked by his stupidity that he completely forgot the reason he came down in the first place. To go and get Shinsou and sensei to possibly interrogate the woman, who murdered his best friend. He was disappointed in himself for being so absentminded that he forgot the highest priority on the list. How stupid could he be?

Thankfully, Katsuki didn’t seem to mind all that much. In fact, he never even bothered to remind him. He thought that it was because he was having insecurities about bothering the two sleepless heroes again, but he just seemed… chill. In a way that he had never openly demonstrated before. He was just having fun, drinking tea, even when everybody was gathering around to gawk at the floating teacup. Really, he owned the situation.

Honestly, Katsuki was a little TOO relaxed with the situation. He even finished the damn tea! Actually, he had wanted to refill the tea, he had already moved towards the kettle, and definitely would’ve done it if Eijirou hadn’t given him the death stare.

Not only that, but he was having FUN, with a capital everything. He never had FUN. He didn’t outright say it, but you could see it in the playful look in his eyes, or the way he was bouncing up and down, practically emanating giddiness. He put his hands on the kitchen counter, putting his weight on it, with a lopsided smile on his face.

Obviously, he didn’t care whether Eijirou told anyone about him or not. Eijirou did, though. He didn’t want anyone to be negatively impacted by what he said, which included himself. Concerning himself with that sort of thing, or even thinking about it in the first place, wasn’t really Katsuki’s thing. Though (contrary to popular belief) Katsuki had emotions and more empathy than he knew how to handle, he couldn’t really understand if someone upset, or what would trigger that sort of reaction.

Really, he had no idea how to figure out a way out of that situation. It seemed he didn’t have to, though. “I know how to explain this.” This would be fun. He wondered what ridiculous explanation he'd come up with.

Or maybe he actually knew. It wasn’t completely unrealistic. Denki, god bless him, couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, and was honestly surprised he hadn’t already told the entire class. Todoroki and Shinsou were far too excited to keep quiet about it. Aizawa probably hadn’t said anything, but could’ve deemed it ‘the most rational option’ to tell Tokoyami. Again, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“There is only one explanation. THE DARK LORD HAS RISEN FROM HIS SLUMBER!” Okay, he wasn’t expecting that. There were a load of batshit, ridiculous theories he could’ve gone through, but went directly to ‘the dark lord has risen from his slumber’? It was on-brand, he’d give ‘em that.

Hopefulness in everyone’s eyes dimmed the minute Tokoyami started preaching about the demon-dude from his cult thingy. Way to steal away their only chance at possible optimism. “Lord, I thank you for gracing me with your presence, and though our latest ritual may not have brought your physical form to this plain, I promise, I will report back to your many followers, and we shall do everything in our power to fully grant you your stay here!” He ranted, convinced that his ‘religious’ ramblings were completely accurate.

Absently, he wondered whether Tokoyami was just covering for them, since the drivel coming from his beak was borderline psychotic. He would have to persuade him to go into therapy if it turned out everything he said was true. They were vaguely aware of a cult he would speak of occasionally, but they thought it was just a joke to keep up his infamous dark-and-stormy image. Did they actually perform rituals?

Continuing to speak was a decision Kirishima was thankful that Tokoyami made, since it took the heat off Bakugou, giving him time to come up with a proper excuse. He’d need about an eternity for that. Such a dreadful liar.

“Do you have a prophet in this realm who may guide us? Please, direct me toward their light.” He begged his dark demon god (Katsuki). Katsuki burst out laughing.

“HOO boy, I’m gonna have fun with this one!” Silently, Eijirou begged him not to screw with their mutual friend. Sure, he’d admit it, it’d be KIND of fun to witness, but his compassion outweighed his desire for a laugh. Katsuki picked up on his silent plea, and, naturally, completely disregarded it. He lifted the teacup above his head.

His eyes said it all. ‘Please don’t do it’, they said. “He said he wanted direction towards his prophet.” Katsuki stated plainly. He walked right up to Eijirou, and slammed the ivory teacup onto the ground, right by his feet. “I am a god (no duh), and technically speaking, you’re basically my prophet. You’re the only one who can communicate with me, and you carry out my bidding. And, even Shinsou said I was an unstoppable demon. It’s cannon.” Yup, he was having way too much fun.

Gaping, Tokoyami continued on his religious babbling. “He is your chosen prophet?” He sounded surprised. Ouch. “Clear a path, one and all, he is your dark saviour’s prophet, your connection to the shadow demon!” Shadow demon? The only shadow demon he had heard of was Dark Shadow. Now that he thought about it, if his quirk turned his head into a bird’s head, why was it also Dark Shadow? Mutation and emitter? Two completely different quirks that seemed unrelated was impossible. Was Dark Shadow his cult’s real god, or a subordinate? He didn’t want to think about it.

To his surprise, Shouji joined in and started blocking everyone from reaching Eijirou. What was he thinking? “Yes, one and all, move aside.” He said, clearly not believing what he was saying. Eijirou could relate to his terrible lying. But, why would he be lying? He was using all of his arms to block off the other half of the room that Dark Shadow couldn’t get to. Was he trying to help them get through? How nice.

Uraraka and Shouji whispered something to each other, and she backed off. Did they both know too? Was that whole thing just a performance? If it was, Kirishima would play along. “Uh, yeah. We have… plans. The, uh, dark lord and I. So we should… be on our way.” He confirmed, giving a little thumbs up to Tokoyami.

Walking away was much easier than it would’ve been, thanks to the emo duo. “Wow, you really owned the whole ‘prophet’ thing. I’m so proud.” Katsuki said with a fake sniffle added on for humour as he floated along down the hallway.

---

As they headed out of Height’s Alliance, he realized something.

“Uh, Katsuki?”

“Yeah?” He responded so casually to him using his given name. That brought a small smile to Eijirou’s face. Yeah, he said they could call each other by their first names, but he expected SOME awkwardness before they got used to it.

“I just realized…” He trailed off, not wanting to deal with Katsuki’s frustration when he looked so relaxed and at peace for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. But, unfortunately, it was necessary. “I have absolutely no idea where sensei and Shinsou are, since the last time we knew their location was over seven hours ago.” He spat out in a single breath. It was pretty impressive.

“MotherFUCKER!” Yup, the expected reaction. “Do you have either of them on your contacts?” He asked as calmly as he possibly could through his rage. He had gotten better at controlling his anger after just a week with Eijirou. Maybe he WAS a good influence. Damn. He owed Fatgum 800 yen.

“Umm… no? Obviously, I don’t have sensei’s number, since he only gives it out to kids with bad home lives, which I don’t, and Shinsou and I don’t really talk that often?” He stated cautiously, not wanting to piss off Katsuki any further. Not that there was a chance of that. Yet, Katsuki had a habit of defying the odds. He stayed calm.

Inhaling and exhaling evenly to stop himself from blowing up, he came up with another solution. “You have Icyhot’s number, right? He said that he would be with them, so he can give you their location, got it?” He snapped, thankfully remaining in his ‘zen zone’. He started using the zen zone technique after he first decided to go to therapy because of a teacher’s suggestion. He would focus on ways to resolve a situation, and take out his anger after it was solved, if he still had any anger left in him. Unexpectedly, it worked, and it made him even better in crises.

Smiling out of pride for the way his friend was handling his neglect towards getting information before heading to get their teacher and classmate, he nodded. “Yup, I have his number. Great thinking, bro!” He responded. Katsuki frowned at his reply, which confused Eijirou to no end. He said that he could call him, and he even praised his intellect. What could he have been upset about?

He pulled out his cellphone, which (thank god) he brought down with him, and went to ‘favourites’ to call Todoroki.

As usual, he picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” He was panting. Maybe it was because he had been talking so fast? Or it was because Eijirou had punched him enough to seriously bruise near the ribs. That could’ve been it.

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“Almost at the school gates.”

Why would he be over there? Was that where Aizawa and Shinsou had ended up? Why would they have gone there? Maybe he was on patrol duty or something? “Sorry Kirishima, I’m afraid I have to go now…” He trailed off, breathing heavier than before, and hung up.

“Where are we goin’?” Katsuki asked, till trying to regain his amusement from mere moments before.

“The school gates, I guess.”

Little did the two of them know what kind of emotional mess they'd be getting in to.

Chapter Text

Shouto didn’t know what to think. On one hand, he and Midoriya were awfully close, ‘joined at the hip’ as All Might would say, like best friends, but on the other hand… Shouto felt something with Midoriya that he never felt with any of his other friends, not even the one who he’d often have sex with.

Over the years, Shouto had become more skilled in the art of deciphering emotions and their meanings, and learning what was and wasn’t something friends would do. But, he was still unsure whether saying ‘I love you’ was something friends would do. He had asked different people before on the subject, and he was met with mixed results. After asking Iida if saying that you loved someone could be applied as friendly, he had said ‘absolutely, friendship is one of the strongest bonds you can have!’ with the passion of a thousand people, as usual.

Though, when professed his friendly love towards Yaoyorozu, she had taken it as romantic immediately, which led to Shouto having to come out to her. But, when he had said the same thing to Shouji, he responded the same way, saying that they were good friends. Again, mixed results.

So, it begged the question, which did Midoriya mean? He had said it very casually, so maybe it was friendly? Or maybe, it was SO obvious that he had romantic feelings for Shouto that it was expected. Was he really THAT oblivious? It wasn’t completely unreasonable, honestly. Both were possibilities, and there were even more factors he didn’t even consider. Emotions were not his strong suit, he couldn’t stress it enough, so he had no earthly idea which of the many possibilities it could’ve been.

Of course, that wasn’t his only reason for going to the gates. What was he doing with All Might? The former number one hero hadn’t been seen by anyone in the school, including staff. It was quite unusual for the sociable teacher to be locked up, but after what happened… well, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. So, why was he with Midoriya? (*cough* secret love child *cough*.)

Stuck in his many thoughts, he didn’t notice the pillar right in front of him, and, naturally, he slammed his, in Mina’s opinion, ‘gorgeous’ face right into it. He broke his nose, and blood ended up everywhere. He pitied the school’s janitor. And yes, they had a janitor. He had investigated him thoroughly a year ago.

Pain rushed through him, but it was more a wake-up pain than anything, and only spurred him on instead of deterring him. It was a lot of blood though, more than what coated him after being attacked by villains the week before. Thinking about blood made him woozy, though it wasn’t from hemophobia. It reminded him far too much about the event he had blocked from his mind. Just thinking about it… he could almost see the whole death scene unfold again. Actually, he could. In a weird amount of detail. It was intensely unnerving, and breathing got much harder. He hadn’t felt that way since he was a little kid, constantly having nightmares about his face being burnt by his mother.

Thankfully, his phone rang, pulling him out of his trance-like state. His breathing was starting to even out, but he was still almost-hyperventilating. The caller ID was Kirishima’s. Shit. He should’ve been with Shinsou and Aizawa at that point. But, he had to go and be selfish, didn’t he?

Regretfully, he answered. “Hello?” He asked as evenly as possible. Hopefully, they didn’t notice his breathing, or at least didn’t ask him about it. He didn’t get why people insisted on saying ‘Hello?’ every time that someone called you, even when you knew who it was. It was counterproductive. Why not get straight to the point? Bakugou agreed with him on that. Bakugou… His breathing got even worse. Sprinting towards the gates didn’t help much.

“Hey, where are you right now?” Damn, he was angry. Of course, he couldn’t tell from his tone, but what else could he be feeling? He had betrayed them by not going straight to the possible interrogators.

Nevertheless, he responded, even thought Kirishima’d get even angrier with him than they were before. Bakugou too, since he was probably with him. Maybe even his fellow conspiracy kid and father-figure. “Almost at the school gates.” He purposefully didn’t give specifics, so Midoriya wouldn’t get wrapped up in Shouto’s mess.

Speaking of which, he was right by the gates. Both pine green and golden hair were in sight. It may have been rude, but he needed to cut the call short. “Sorry Kirishima, I’m afraid I have to go now…” He was just panting at that point. The panic from before disappeared after seeing Midoriya, as it usually did, but that left him to focus on the after effects of his sprinting, which, even though he had worked on his physical stamina for a while, left him exhausted and breathless. He had run, without even a slight break, across their oversized campus. The potentially broken ribs didn’t help either.

Hanging up, he continued to run, this time with a specific goal in mind. “M- ah - Midoriya!” Shouto shouted between gasps of air. It wasn’t very loud, but he managed to hear him anyway. He didn’t look too glad to see him. That was upsetting.

“Ooooh… hey, Shouto. What’s up?” He… wasn’t acting normally. I mean, he was always awkward, but never to THAT extent. Besides, he had asked a very strange question. Was he concussed as well?

“The opposite of down, of course. Are you okay, Midoriya? How many fingers am I holding up?” He asked, voice filled with concern. All Might looked to be on the verge of tears, but he was smiling? “All Might sensei, are you quite alright? You’re almost crying, but you look happy. Why is that?” He asked exactly what was on his mind, as usual, still holding up his fingers for Midoriya.

“Um, four.” It was correct. “And he’s crying from amusement, Shouto.” He was glaring at his ‘mentor’ with ferocity. It was completely unexpected, since he usually harboured nothing but love for him. “Why are you testing if I can see how many fingers you’re holding up?” He asked, trying to find patience for his best friend.

“I’m no doctor, but you’re acting rather strangely, and after Endeavour… my father, hit you over the head, it is probable that you have a - ah- a concussion. What is 5 times 10? What’s your name?” He added a few questions at the end to assess the damage.

“Fifty, Midoriya Izuku, hero name, Deku. Shouto, I don’t have a concussion. I’m completely fine.” A complete lie. He had been diagnosed with depression just a few days before. He was not ‘fine’. And, having a concussion was the most likely diagnosis. “I’m just… embarrassed, that’s all.” He explained to his ‘emotionally constipated’ friend. Shouto admired how Midoriya would spell things out for him in a way that no one else would. Still, it didn’t explain much.

“You could be embarrassed and concussed.” He suggested. Midoriya looked like two idiotic comments away from banging his head against the school gate. Shouto could’ve sworn there was someone calling his name for a minute. He shook it off, and explained further, to clear up any misunderstandings they may have been having. “If you have a concussion, it would explain why you said that you loved me.”

“Uh, Shouto…” Midoriya trailed off and pointed at something behind him.

Someone gasped. It wasn’t All Might, or Midoriya, and it most certainly wasn’t Shouto. He looked around, only to find Kirishima.

“HE SAID WHAT?”

Maybe he should’ve seen it coming. He was supposed to be with them, after all.

---

God, Katsuki was not in the mood to deal with Icyhot’s bullshit again. But, he had information they didn’t, including the whereabouts of the two insomniacs. He wasn’t even sure what he expected them to do that normal interrogators couldn’t, so it isn’t like he could brief them, even if he had the energy left to go get his phone from upstairs and call them for their location.

But the school gate? Why the hell would he be over there? He took another deep breath. He was getting way too pissed off. He really wanted another sip of the tulsi tea, but that was a big ‘NO’ according to Eijirou. It sucked, since it would really cheer him up. Drinking fucking AWESOME tea and being worshipped as an all-powerful demon god was his new favourite pastime. He had to admit, it was a bit draining, being a ghost around people who had no idea he was still around.

As much as he wanted to hang around with his friends, they were too depressed for it to be any fun. Plus, Dunce Face, Flat Face and Raccoon eyes weren’t even in the room. Truthfully, he’d much rather of gone looking for those three instead of Half n’ Half bastard and the other fuckers.

Even if Eijirou would agree with those, frankly misplaced, priorities, he didn’t have the emotional capacity to admit that he loved ‘em that much. Instead, he opted to say the more reasonable argument to stop them from going to Icyhot and the gang. (Great band name.) “Why in the hell would he be by the school gates? That makes no sense. There’s no reason for Aizawa and Hitoshi to be there either. Sensei doesn’t have patrol for another few days, and that’s without factoring in that he was taken off patrol for the next week! This could be a trap, y’know.” He reasoned.

Huffing, Eijirou explained his point of view. “A trap? Who would be trying to trap me? Besides, I’m the one who called him! If this is about the thing we talked about before… well, you already know what I have to say about that.” He was completely off, it wasn’t about that at all…

Okay, maybe it was. But just a little bit, okay? It was mainly because he didn’t want to talk to MORE annoying people. His social battery and tolerance for annoyance was low enough as it was already. He didn’t need more stress on top of all that. Katsuki had already come close enough to snapping at Eijirou, even though he didn’t do much wrong and didn’t deserve to deal with his fury. All he wanted was to sleep, but that wasn’t an option, since the dead couldn’t exactly sleep.

Honestly, with all that he had to deal with, he’d rather of jut passed on and just died permanently. He wouldn’t have to see his parents again, he wouldn’t have to face the unrequited love he was suffering from, he could just be at peace for once. Although, it would’ve damaged his hero career. That’d suck.

“Ooh, look!” Eijirou pointed excitedly. “They’re here.” He looked at what he was pointing at. The dual-coloured hair was a dead giveaway. But…

“The other two don’t look like sensei and Mind fucker though… who are they?” He didn’t actually need to ask, as he already knew the answer. What he was really asking was why All Might, who hadn’t been seen in days, and the bane of his existence were with Icyhot when they assumed he would be with the father and son duo like he had said he would just minutes before.

“TODOROKI, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Eijirou shouted at the top of his lungs. Still, they were a while away, so the most it did was startle him a bit. “I’m going to get closer.” He informed Katsuki before running in their direction. Needless to say, Katsuki followed without hesitation.

Little did they know what dramatic mess they’d be walking into.

“-that’s all.” Katsuki managed to make out after getting closer. Eijirou was still lingering in the background. He was hiding behind some bushes, mumbling about ‘getting payback’ or whatever.

Icyhot had the same look on his face that he always did while he was trying to explain a point that he thought was obvious, but everyone else thought was clearly stupid. Yeah, it happened enough for him to have a consistent expression for it. “You could be embarrassed and concussed.” What the actual fuck were they talking about? “If you have a concussion, it would explain why you said that you loved me.”

If Katsuki could still salivate or choke, he’d be choking on his spit at that point. Instead, he burst out laughing. “Jesus Christ, he said that he loved him, and he thinks - Oh my gods - he thinks that he has a concussion?” He said, wheezing, and feeling close to death once again.

Eijirou, from behind the bushes, couldn’t hear the drama until Katsuki recited it out loud. He rose from the bushes like a madman. “Uh, Shouto…” The nerd tried to point out the man behind him. He actually gasped, like the jury during a courtroom drama. He looked close to fainting. He knew that watching all those damn soap operas would rub off on him in the wrong way.

“HE SAID WHAT?”

Sometimes he would forget that he was as big of a shipper as Mina.

Chapter Text

Oblivious, moronic, beautiful-ass man. Sometimes, Izuku would forget just how clueless and self-deprecating Shouto could be. “If you have a concussion, it would explain why you said that you loved me.” He said it like it was the only possible reason. It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

Earlier, he was considering defending himself and not telling him that he was actually accidentally confessing his love that he didn’t even know existed until just ten minutes before. But, seeing the almost… defeated expression on his face, he completely ruled it out as an option. He would tell him the truth, and he knew, even if he didn’t reciprocate his affection, Shouto would continue to be his friend without any awkwardness. That was just how he worked.

Explaining to him how love works would honestly be harder than summoning up the courage to tell Shouto how he felt. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but, he would do it anyway. At least, he would’ve, if he didn’t get interrupted.

Popping up from the bushes, with the absolute worst timing in history, was Kirishima. Karma’s a bitch, I suppose. He should’ve expected it after spying on him with his conversation with All Might. Hell, it might’ve even been the same bush. He didn’t think he did it with any malicious intent. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body, but it certainly worked out that way.

Though, Shouto hadn’t seen him yet, and looked like he wanted to talk again. “Uh, Shouto…” He pointed to the shocked man standing behind his heterochromatic best friend. (Well, they were more than best friends, at least from Izuku’s point of view.)

Unbothered by Izuku’s pointing, he tried to continue. But, the loud gasping did seem to alert him a bit better. “HE SAID WHAT?” He shouted, eyes filled with stars in the way he’d only seen on Mina when a pair of their classmates got together. He supposed that Mina rubbed off on him a bit too much. Izuku opened up his mouth to try and defend himself, but found he had nothing to say. After all, everything he was thinking was probably accurate. He was a dreadful liar, so he couldn’t convince him that nothing was going on, even if he could find the words.

That is, if he even wanted to lie in the first place. He didn’t want to hurt Shouto like that, or deny the feeling he had been suppressing for who knows how long. Seriously, had he been so blinded by Kacchan that he would ignore the person who had been supporting him without complaint or question for years?

Not that he would have the chance to obsess over Katsuki again. Or even be his friend. The grief was overwhelming. He felt like crying and falling to the ground all over again. All Might sensed how upset he was and placed his arm on his shoulder to support him. Surprisingly enough, it was actually pretty comforting. He let a few tears slip anyway. Would his poor tear ducts ever get a day off?

“Oh, Kirishima. Um… why are you here?” Judging by his tone and nervous expression, it seemed like he already knew the answer. What did he do to Kirishima that made him so upset that Shouto’d actually be nervous?

“Well, I called you because I didn’t know where Aizawa sensei and Shinsou were, and I assumed you were with them, like you said you’d be. Speaking of which, why are you with them? I thought you were excited about talking to them.” He didn’t sound angry or judgmental, yet Shouto still had the same nervous expression. Or was it guilty? His expressions were nearly impossible to tell apart, and those two in particular looked almost identical.

“I was… but, Midoriya called me three times, and I was worried, so I called him, and I was still going to go to Shinsou and Aizawa but… by the time I hung up, I realized that he told me he loved me, and that he was with All Might, so…” He trailed off near the end of his ramble, but it was clear what he was going to say next. So, he ran for nearly ten minutes trying to find him. It was kind of touching, honestly.

Instead of berating him, saying whatever he was going to do was more important, he made a cooing noise and swooned. “That is so manly!” He exclaimed with tears in his eyes. Maybe, in another universe where neither of them were competing over Kacchan’s affection, constantly in an emotional battle with the other, he and Izuku could’ve been best friends, bonded by the fact that they both cried more often than newborn babies. For different reasons, of course.

“Oh, is it? But, I abandoned you in your time of need.” He stated, the guilt showing at a normal human level. Kirishima just started laughing.

“Seriously dude? We weren’t in need!” Who’s we? “There’s no time limit as far as we know, and all we really need is for you to give the details of the whole…” He looked around at the scene, and hesitated. “Thing, and explain why you need them to be the interrogators. Have your whole… dramatic scene thing-y with Midoriya and end up making out because you’re both clearly in love with each other, and work your manly-as-hell romance magic.” He said comfortingly. The ridiculous amount of tension Shouto was carrying seeped out of him with a long sigh.

“Well, I doubt it will end up with us making out as you said, or even with romance, but I appreciate your supportive words Kirishima.” He said with a nearly imperceptible smile that melted Izuku’s poor, strained heart.

But, despite his words, talking about how much he supported their possible romantic relationship, he made no move to leave the area. Shouto seemed entirely unbothered by his refusal to leave their conversation, but Izuku felt rather disturbed by his unblinking eyes, filled with anticipation. “Um, Kirishima, could you, like, not watch us?” He asked as politely as he could muster.

His head popped out of the bushes once more. “Just pretend like I’m not here, okay?” He suggested, diving back behind the bushes, his eyes peeking out just a little. It was even more creepy.

“How about you get out of my sight?” He asked with gritted teeth, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. Subconsciously, he activated 5% of one for all, the familiar green lightning intimidating enough to properly threaten Kirishima. He at least had the decency to hide his entire body behind the shrubbery that time. It’s not like it mattered that he was still listening, since the previous wielder of OFA was still there, observing the two, probably even more insistent on staying than Kirishima.

“So, like I was saying Midoriya,” God, why did he have to continue calling Izuku by his last name, even at a time like that? “Why did you tell me that you loved me, and in which way did you mean it?”

His poor, sheltered, emotionally stunted child. He really, genuinely had no idea about what Izuku felt for him. It almost made him cry from hatred for Endeavour, or because of pity. “I said it completely on accident, actually. It was so natural and obvious that it just slipped out, but, I was being stupid and blind for the longest time, so I kept denying it.” He decided to just tell the whole truth, no details left out. If he didn’t, Shouto would continue to be confused, and more importantly, he would continue to keep his emotions under wraps. He wasn’t very skilled at that, as he found out.

“As for what I meant by it… well, Kirishima was right in his predictions. On both counts, actually.” Izuku would be brave for the first time in what felt like forever.

“What do you mean by that Midoriya?”

“It’s going to end up being both romantic…” Shouto was stunned. “And, it’ll end up with us making out.”

“Huh?” You know he was excited when he was ineloquent.

He grabbed him by the collar, (which would be the only dominant thing he would do in their entire relationship) and kissed him passionately. He used tongue!

“Eww, Katsuki, you’re ruining the moment!”

Katsuki?

“Way to kill the mood, Kirishima.” Shouto said with a pout as Izuku pulled away from him.

As in BAKUGOU Katsuki?

---

Eijirou was absolutely astounded at how self-defeating Todoroki was being, even when he was having an intimate moment with Midoriya. ‘Abandoning you in your time of need’? How dramatic was that? Well, maybe he was being a little dramatic as well, but Midoriya had just professed his love for Todoroki, sue him if his two love rivals were gonna end up making out. ‘Well, I doubt it will end up with us making out as you said, or even with romance’ his ass.

At least through his excitement, he had the decency to hide behind a bush. “Um, Kirishima, could you, like, not watch us?” Izuku asked, looking a little flustered. He was being ridiculous, you couldn’t even see his face from behind the many leaves covering it. So, what if you could see his eyes? He was being polite by hiding the rest of himself.

Nevertheless, he decided to just calmly pop his head out of the bushes. “Just pretend like I’m not here, okay?” He suggested, going back into his ‘hiding’ place. Midoriya was not satisfied with that.

Activating his quirk was threatening enough, but the fact that he actually looked pissed, which he NEVER was, made Eijirou frightened enough to do anything that he might’ve told him to do. “How about you get out of my sight?” He demanded with a growl. Eijirou shrunk back into the bushes, until no part of him was visible. Unfortunately, that meant that he couldn’t see the dramatic scene before him. At least Midoriya wasn’t dragging him away to Height’s Alliance.

Contrary to Eijirou, Katsuki was having a (pardon the pun) blast, laughing his ass off at Eijirou’s misfortunes for what seemed like the eightieth time that week. “JESUS, THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!” He wheezed/yelled. Katsuki faulted him for being an enthusiastic shipper, but he was the one who came up with their ship name in the first place.

Shushing him, he listened to the soap-opera-esque romance going on behind the shrubs blocking his vision. “So, like I was saying Midoriya, Why did you tell me that you loved me, and in which way did you mean it?” Which way did he mean it? How many ways were there?

“How dense can one person be? I mean, he’s giving all the hints imaginable to him.” He whispered to Katsuki, who rolled his eyes to the maximum degree.

“Stick around, the answer may surprise you.” He said in a news anchor voice. What did he mean by that?

“I said it completely on accident, actually. It was so natural and obvious that it just slipped out, but, I was being stupid and blind for the longest time, so I kept denying it.” Ooh, spicy. Damn, his gay was slipping out. “As for what I meant by it… well, Kirishima was right in his predictions. On both counts, actually.” Oh. My. GOD!

“What do you mean by that Midoriya?” He sounded so nervous. It was both adorable and aggravating as hell. How was he not catching on?

“It’s going to end up being both romantic…” He paused, probably for dramatic effect. It was working. Eijirou peeked at the scene again. No percentage of Midoriya’s mystery quirk could stop him from witnessing that moment. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d be focusing on him when he was about to start a relationship. “And, it’ll end up with us making out.” How fucking suave was that? He didn’t know Midoriya had it in him.

“Huh?” Todoroki couldn’t even bring himself to say anything more than that. Midoriya tugged his collar, pulling him towards his lips. Jesus Christ, it was happening. They were frenching! Okay, so maybe it was a BIT awkward for him to be watching. He sank back. But, Katsuki, ever the oddball, continued to watch.

Whistling, he shouted at the top of his lungs; “DAMN, ‘S IT SPRING ALREADY?” Like he wanted them to hear. Of course, they couldn’t, seeing as Eijirou was the only one who could hear, but that meant he was grossed out alone.

“Eww, Katsuki, you’re ruining the moment!” Oh, shit.

“Fucking idiot.”

At that point, no one was surprised. “Way to kill the mood, Kirishima.”

“You did it again.” … Oops?

Chapter Text

God, as much as he wanted the two lovebirds to get together at last, did they have to start going at it like bunnies in a public area they were supposed to be guarding? Not to mention that ALLMIGHT was RIGHT THERE! Of course, he had the decency to turn away from the scene, unlike a certain red-haired idiot hiding behind a bunch of bushes, staring intently at them. Fucking gross.

Jesus fuck, Icyhot got an erection. (Katsuki’d know) It was time to put a stop to their disgusting display. “DAMN, ‘S IT SPRING ALREADY?” He yelled at the top of his lungs, deciding that grossing them out as much as they were grossing him out was the most efficient option.

Then he realized they couldn’t hear him. Fuck, being dead was kind of the worst, wasn’t it? All he managed to do was disturb Eijirou. “Eww, Katsuki, you’re ruining the moment!” He would laugh, but he was too annoyed.

How many times could he forget that there were people around him that couldn’t hear Katsuki? Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if every single person on the planet knew about the fact that he was a ghost. Not only would they have to explain everything to Deku (who would definitely end up crying), but his idol as well. Couldn’t he wait to spill the beans until he was (hopefully) brought back to life. “Fucking idiot.” He had the decency to look at least somewhat apologetic.

“Way to kill the mood, Kirishima.” Was… was the mysterious, emotionless ice prince pouting? How the mighty have fallen. If that was what love did to you, he was almost glad that Eijirou would never feel the same way about Katsuki that he felt. Who is he kidding, that thought made him feel like crying, if he even still had tear ducts.

“You did it again.” He didn’t have the energy to be angry about it. He was just tired, and the only thing he felt like doing was taking a FUCKING nap, even though he knew that he couldn’t. At that point, he was just exasperated. “Ugh let’s just give them a quick explanation, drag the Canadian flag outta here, go to our original destination, to sensei and the other fucker, get them to beat the crap out of the bitch who shot me, and maybe get a quick cup of coffee along the way to tempt them. ‘Kay? ‘Kay.” He explained.

But, nothing could ever go his way, could it? “Wait, Katsuki, this can be a lot to process, we can’t just explain then leave!” He whisper-yelled so Deku couldn’t hear him. He attempted to grab Katsuki by the arm, as he’d been doing of increasing frequency, but went through him once again, and inevitably looking disappointed. Would he ever learn? He wanted to make it so he never had to do that again, by leaving with Icyhot, but he was refusing.

“Did you… did you say Katsuki?” Asking the obvious questions, as usual. Gods, couldn’t he come up with something original?

“Uh, yes.” No SHIT Sherlock, but that wasn’t his real question. Why couldn’t people straight-up ask what they meant, no beating around the bush? Just say, ‘what the fuck did you mean by saying Katsuki when he’s been pronounced dead?’ it isn’t that hard.

“As in BAKUGOU Katsuki? As in Kacchan?” No, the other Katsuki that’s been in your neighbourhood since you were a toddler. Could anyone say or ask something that wasn’t completely obvious? It seemed like that was impossible, and it was starting to agitate him. Not that he wasn’t agitated before. “Because he’s dead.” Oh my lord, WE KNOW.

“Yes, that one, and yeah, he’s dead. Probably. Maybe. We don’t really know?” How can he be so horrible at explaining that when he’s done it so many times before due to his supreme idiocy? “Todoroki, could you…?” He trailed off and gestured to Deku, then to Katsuki, then back to Deku, then just started flailing his hands around like a stroke victim. He had no earthly idea what the hell he was talking about, and Icyhot wasn’t having a much better time. “Explain it to him for me, please!” Fucking concussion, making hm look like an idiot.

“Oh. Okay.” He turned to Deku, placing his hands on his shoulders, staring intensely at him, like the disgusting lovers they were. “Midoriya-”

“Jesus Shouto, you just stuck your tongue down my throat, for fuck’s sake, call me Izuku you beautiful dimwit.” Ooh, the nerd being vulgar. He had waited sixteen years for the chance to hear that.

The other boy was far more stunned than Katsuki was at that moment, and a little (justifiably) terrified. “Uh, fair enough. Izuku then, remember the theory I was talking about last night?” After taking a pause to go through his nerdy-ass hyperthymesia memory, he nodded, and his eyes automatically widened. “It was the truth. It’s no longer just a theory.” Seriously? Did he tell Deku too?

“Do you mean-”

“Bakugou is a ghost. Probably. Again, we’re not exactly sure.”

“Huh.” That… was not the expected reaction. It’s not like he really cared what Deku did or said or thought, but he was expecting… more. Oh well, he could do without the buckets and buckets of tears.

“I have to say, you’re taking this remarkably well.” Yeah. Until, that is, he burst into tears and unceremoniously dropped to the ground, shattering it with sheer force of emotion. They thought that was his real quirk for a while, before he was diagnosed as quirkless, since it was impossible that he could create that kind of force and not get dehydrated without a power, but it just turned out to be fucking weird, like everything else about him.

He tried to get out words, but they were horribly muffled by his horrid sobbing. Why didn’t Katsuki revel in his near-silence? Oh, blessed silence. “I’m gonna rip his eyes out of their sockets.” He announced to Eijirou, already trying to find a good sharp object to rip them out with. You’d think it was easy, but you’d be wrong. Well, the stabbing part was easy, but manoeuvring out of the socket was a difficult process that required a surprising amount of force.

“Oh, no you aren’t. He’s been upset since finding out you died, he deserves a good cry. Even if it is… an unnaturally strong flow.” He stated, shocked by his absurdly ‘manly’ tears.

“Quit talking about his tears like they’re a period. And don’t talk to me like I don’t know about how he’s been feeling. I may be an insensitive prick (and I take pride in that fact), but I can read basic emotions. You realize I was at my funeral, right? I was the first one who saw him explode. Hell, I was cheering him on when he punched that-” He stopped talking when Eijirou glared at him. He didn’t even know which part of that he was mad at. Maybe all of the above?

“He- he’s a-” He let out yet another massive sob. “He’s here?”

“Well, considering that Kirishima addressed him directly, and that they’re constantly joint at the hip, I’d say, yes, he’s here.” He probably didn’t even realize how damn sarcastic he sounded, and Katsuki was there for it.

Also, they were not ‘constantly joint at the hip’. They weren’t like some disgusting high school couple who were always flaunting how in love they were. That role fell to the tododeku pair. They had plenty of time apart, and had plenty of boundaries in place, bitch. “Come on, let me murder him.” He pleaded.

“Absolutely not, that’s illegal.” Buzzkill.

“Is he talking about arson or murder?” the Half n’ Half bastard asked Eijirou.

“Ooh, I didn’t even think about arson! Maybe I could kill him by using fire.” He said with a unnervingly wide smile. Could you really fault him? He just loved setting things aflame. It was in his nature.

“Look, now you’re giving him ideas. What have we said about giving Katsuki ideas, especially when it’s about a dangerous crime?” He chided.

“Holy shit, my best friend has a chance of coming back to life.” Yeah, was he just getting that? Also, he definitely wasn’t Deku’s best friend. “Shouto, what are you still doing here?” Exactly. They had somewhere to be.

“Well, I WAS making out with you before he interrupted.” He grimaced, pointing at Eijirou.

Deku sighed. “Shouto, if you manage to bring him back to life, I will actually have sex with you.” He said with a deadpan expression. He was already sprinting back to the school. Icythot indeed.

“YOUNG MIDORIYA, THAT IS NO WAY TO LOSE YOUR VIRGINITY!” All Might shouted. Jesus, in the chaos he forgot that he was still there.

“I’m not a virgin, bye.” Nice.

---

“I’m not a virgin, bye.” And Izuku ran off to follow Shouto and Kirishima, and, apparently, Kacchan. All Might attempted to go to Izuku, but he outran him easily, since the other was dying.

Kacchan. The whole time, he’d been in a deep pit of despair, but he was still there. He felt ashamed. How could he not realize that his best friend was still there? Of course, he didn’t doubt it for a second after they told him. He knew right away, as soon as Kirishima came along, that something was off, like he was whole for the first time in what felt like an eternity. It was only natural that it was because of Kacchan.

Even just thinking about it made him tear up again. Not out of sadness, or anything of the sort, of course, but unadulterated joy. There was a chance that he could come back once again, how could they expect Izuku to not get his hopes up? He was just that kind of person, especially when it came to is friends.

While he was thinking about all that he could analyze, improve, and plan once given proper information, Shouto seemed to be deep in thought. “Is something wrong?” Izuku asked, voice positively dripping with concern.

“Wrong? No, not really.” That was a relief, but why was it only ‘not really’? “I suppose… I just have a question, that’s all.” Oh. Why would he need to ask Izuku for the answer? With everything going on, his question had to be about their angry, recently deceased friend, but, as he was informed about the situation literal seconds ago, he didn’t really have any knowledge that they didn’t. “I heard your conversation with All Might. You aren’t a virgin?”

Really? They were having that conversation while they were trying to save a life? “Uh, no… but, shouldn’t we talk about this later?” He suggested thoughtfully. Shouto brushed his words aside.

“Who was it?” He pressed, ignoring (or more likely, not even noticing) Izuku’s clear discomfort. “Who’d you lose your virginity to?” He repeated with more detail, as if lack of clarity was the reason why he wasn’t sharing the answer, and not the sheer awkwardness of the truth.

“Guys?” Kirishima started, looking back and forth between them. “Is now really the time for all that? Even Katsuki isn’t amused.” Oh god, he just realized, Kirishima had to deal with being the only one on the receiving end of Kacchan’s yelling and inappropriate laughter for a whole week. He really had to be in love with him to not lose his mind. For once, he didn’t feel jealous because of it.

Although, he didn’t understand the reason why he wasn’t laughing. He didn’t want to face Shouto’s well-concealed wrath if he found out that the person Izuku actually lost his ‘v-card’ to was Kacchan.

While he wouldn’t say that the sex was the reason he fell head-over-heels for him, it certainly didn’t hurt. Even he, the person who never gave out praise, said it was the best he ever had. Sure, at the time, there had only been one other person, but STILL, it was amazing, and no one deny it if they witnessed it. Not that he was into that or anything.

As much as he wanted to keep his mouth shut, he also wanted to be honest with Shouto, especially about matters like his previous sexual encounters. Besides, it was only one person. Many, MANY times, around 56 if he remembered correctly, sure, but only one guy. Maybe he wouldn’t mention the last part. “Kacchan.”

Honestly, he expected a hostile reaction from Shouto. He was pleasantly surprised when he simply nodded and continued to run. Maybe he would beat Kacchan up after he wasn’t in a grave. But then he decided that speaking about his real feelings about it was a good idea. The surprise turned QUITE unpleasant. “Hmm, what a coincidence.” Don’t fucking say it. “I happened to lose my virginity to him as well. He’s amazing, isn’t he?” Jesus Christ, he said it. Why did he have to say it?

“For fuck’s sake, Katsuki, is there anyone you haven’t slept with?” Kirishima yelled. “Midoriya? Your, and I QUOTE, ‘WORST ENEMY AND RIVAL’? How horny can one person be?” He asked the last part in a near whisper.

In seconds, he lurched and looked revolted. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.

“Why did you feel the need to start this?”

“Start what?” How could someone who had sex with Kacchan be so innocent? Then again, who was he to talk? They were in the same boat.

Kirishima glared at them for the rest of the run to UA’s main building.

Chapter Text

Why did Icyhot have to start that damn conversation with Deku? It wasn’t like he cared whoever the fuck he slept with. Seriously, they had been screwing since their first fucking year, why did he even ask? More importantly, “Kacchan.” why the hell did he have to go and answer him? Deku could never cooperate with him. Not that he was one to talk.

Immediately, Eijirou’s jaw dropped. Expected, considering he hadn’t really talked about his sexual experiences outside Half n’ Half. As usual, he was completely unsurprised and functionally emotionless. “Hmm, what a coincidence. I happened to lose my virginity to him as well. He’s amazing, isn’t he?” Wow, he really didn’t hold back, not even when talking to his boyfriend. Also, amazing doesn’t even begin to cover it, thank you very much.

Wait. Goddammit, Eijirou was right there- “For fuck’s sake, Katsuki,” Shit. Why did he have to go and run his mouth like that? “Is there anyone you haven’t slept with?” Well, unfortunately, there were people he hadn’t slept with, given that he was only eighteen. Not that he intended to make the list any longer. I mean, he had Eijirou. Kind of. Not really. Probably not at all by the end of his rant. “Midoriya? Your, and I QUOTE, ‘WORST ENEMY AND RIVAL’? ” Fair. I mean, he wasn’t really planning on sleeping with him that day. “How horny can one person be?”

“It isn’t about being horny, sometimes you just wanna have some dick.” Okay, that was decidedly not the right thing to say. Eijirou looked repulsed by his words. “I mean, not that? Sorry, I just-” He walked away, muttering under his breath. Maybe Katsuki deserved it. Cursing at himself, he continued to go in the direction Icyhot was leading them, lagging the slightest bit behind.

The entire time, he was trying to find the words to apologize to Eijirou, but how could he when he didn’t understand what he did wrong? He personally didn’t really mind sharing it with other people, but wasn’t your sex life supposed to be private? Why did he care so much?

‘Maybe he cares because he also wants to have sex with you.’ The traitorous, somewhat optimistic-sounding part of his mind suggested.

Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Why would Eijirou want to have sex with him? Sure, he was gay, but that didn’t automatically equate to being attracted to every male that moves, though that happened to be the case with Katsuki, and he was always forward with his feeling, so if he was attracted to him in any way, he’d come forward and say it.

He didn’t have a chance in hell with him.

Right?

Cutting through the awkward silence, Deku decided to talk, ignoring the intense, deadly glare Eijirou was not-so-subtly sending all three of them. “So, where are we headed? You haven’t outright told us yet.” He said in an annoying-ass, nasally voice. Okay, it was just his normal voice, but the point still stood.

Fair question, though. None of them had any idea where the hell he was dragging him off to. “The school.” He stated simply, like that was the part they were confused about. Fuck, how annoying could he be? Yeah, no duh, fucking idiot. He wanted to tell him off for being so vague, but all it would do was piss Eijirou off more than he already was, and he really didn’t want to do that more than he already had, so he bit his tongue, which he rarely ever did.

“Um, Shouto, could you be more specific?” Finally, he and Deku had the same thing to say. Not that he was revelling in it, no, it was revolting, actually.

“No.” Well, how damn helpful was that? “I know where I’m going.” How convincing was that? (It was a legitimate question, since his tone was so even) “But I’m sworn to secrecy by the two of them.” Sworn to secrecy? How dramatic. It Didn’t seem like either of them to be so theatrical about it, and he doubted Icyhot made it so melodramatic, so it must’ve been something important, so, once again, Katsuki bit his tongue.

He wished he knew how to deal with people.

---

After nearly ten minutes of wandering through all the nooks and crannies of the school, in places Katsuki never even knew existed, they made it to what looked to be an unused classroom. He didn’t believe he’d seen anyone use it before. Secluded. What were they doing, hiding a body in there? The more he saw, the more unnerving it was.

Small, quiet voices came from the room from before they opened the door. His guard went up and back down once he identified who they were. “Shh, there’s someone out there.” Sensei whispered to - who he assumed was - Hitoshi. Todoroki FUCKING Shouto, for whatever reason, blocked the door, as if he was waiting for something. This infuriated Katsuki to no end, before realizing that he could just go through it with his ghostly powers~.

Thankfully, he didn’t bump into the door, like he was worried about. After all, he had no idea why he could phase through the doorknob, then touch it normally again, so for all he knew, he’d smack into it. He was happier than he’d care to admit after seeing the father and son pair.

But, he remembered that they were hiding something. Something big enough that they had to hide it from anyone that could’ve possibly entered the room. Well, he wasn’t wrong. It was certainly big, but not in the way that he had previously assumed. More like it was… oversized. It was a chubby cat. Oddly cylindrical in shape, a charming orange-brown kind of colour. He looked almost like a- “Pizza Roll! Get in the damn closet.” Shinsou exclaimed, shoving the adorable cat into a storage closet. It wasn’t protesting with sound, just sort of… laying there, almost playing possum.

Finally, sensei picked him up (without him trying to bite or scratch, signalling a well-behaved domestic animal) and shoved him in, closing the closet door behind him. If Katsuki cooed at the creature, he’d deny it until his grave… his real one, anyway. Just a few seconds later, Icyhot walked in. “Shinsou, Aizawa.” They visibly relaxed, that is, until they spotted the two others he was with. Little did they know, a third party was watching, and saw the secret they attempted at hiding.

Not that Katsuki minded much, for many reasons. For one, unlike many people believed, he was NOT a stickler for the rules (fuck you sparky), and, he was a cat person, and since he knew they couldn’t be home all the time, and he didn’t want the poor kit to starve, he actually approved of them brining him to school. Wait, their cat- “Oh shit, that’s Pizza Roll!”

Previously he had shown his confusion at their naming her Pizza Roll, by laughing in their faces, but he suddenly understood it. (And Eri named her, so he couldn’t make fun of it any more.)

“Pizza Roll?” Eijirou asked from the doorway, confused.

“WHY DID YOU SAY THAT NAME?” Hitoshi shouted at the top of his lungs from the other side of the room, quoting the worst movie of all time, Superman vs. Batman, just as Katsuki taught him. He could honestly he’d never prouder of anyone in his life. Eijirou and Deku, on the other hand, were scared shitless at his outburst, Deku subconsciously activated his quirk for the second time that day, like the coward he was. “Nah, seriously, how’d you know?” He inquired calmly.

“Um, Katsuki just said it.” Deku looked at him with his mouth wide open, making everyone else uncomfortable, excluding Half n’ Half. “Wait- it’s a name?” The other two wordlessly dared him to make fun of it.

Eventually, they decided that the two new idiots were harmless and wouldn’t expose their secret cat, and brought her out of the closet.

“KATSUKI, haha haha, what are you talking about, Kirishima? He’s dead. Like, super dead, like no chance to come back to life or anything.” Deku shouted, trying not to look psychotic and failing miserably. God, he couldn’t decide if he or Eijirou was worse at lying, though, to be fair, he forgot that they didn’t tell him who knew, and he had no reason to ask, since he probably assumed that the people at the gate were the only ones who knew, or, even if someone was told, they’d never believe it, as he didn’t at first.

Really, they shouldn’t have believed it. They had like, barely any proof, and any odd phenomena could’ve been the result of other things. Although, Katsuki would totally laugh at them for not figuring it out. So, it was a lose-lose scenario, really. “We know Midoriya. Stop… all this.” Aizawa stated, deadpan, gesturing to Deku’s muttering and borderline insane fumbling.

“Y-you know? Since when?” He asked, slightly less tense due to sensei’s answer.

“Since this afternoon. Speaking of which, why did you run away? I had more that I wanted to discuss with you.” Katsuki wasn’t clear on the answer for that either. But, it wasn’t exactly his business to find out, was it?

“Oh, it was just- wait, how did you find out about him? I don’t remember telling you.” Oh, right, he forgot that he didn’t fill in Eijirou on that point. It kind of just… happened, and he left before they could have a discussion about it. He didn’t even talk about the weird medicine bottle incident.

“That’s a story for later.” He told him, as they needed to get down to business, they had already waited far too long to start the meeting. “Just ask Icyhot if he could get to the point.” Fuck, did that come off as demanding or rude? He was already on thin ice after the whole, ‘having sex with almost half a hundred people, most of which were classmates’ thing, - though it didn’t make sense why he would be mad about that - and he didn’t want to exacerbate the situation any further.

“Doesn’t matter now, Todoroki, could you-?” He signalled the start of his rant.

He took a deep inhale, probably so he wouldn’t end up passing out.

This would be so fucking annoying.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi had just stood awkwardly in the nurse’s office after Kirishima left so abruptly. He didn’t know what else to do. His purpose for hanging around was gone, but he didn’t really have anything to do, so he just sat around until Recovery girl forcefully shoved he, Eraser and Denki out of the room, so she could take care of other patients.

While Hitoshi and Eraser were there out of anxiety, too awkward to react properly to Kirishima’s sudden outburst, Denki being around didn’t make much sense. For once, he actually said what was on his mind. “Why are you still here?” He asked, his tone coated in surprise, instead of annoyance and/or exhaustion he intended. Honestly, he was too happy. After finding out about Bakugou’s situation, he felt like he was floating on air, and being around the supportive, happy-go-lucky, lightning-haired kid only helped with that, as much as he hated admitting it.

“Well, if I leave, I’m definitely gonna tell someone about Bakugou, and there’s a SLIGHT chance he’ll kill me if I let it slip.” He said, rubbing the back of the neck, a nervous habit he developed in their first year.

“Eh, he won’t kill you. Even if, for some reason, it’s important to keep it a secret, the worst he’d do is THREATEN to kill you, no biggie.” He shrugged, intentionally being overly nonchalant about it. Denki rolled his eyes as Eraser smirked. “Seriously though if you feel like it’s better to tell them, do it. Who cares what Blasty thinks? He didn’t tell us not to tell anyone, neither did Kirishima. You’re good. Just leave.”

Giddy didn’t even begin to describe the look on the beam of sunshine’s face. “Good point, brosky!!” Brosky??? The fuck?? Can he even speak language?

“You have fun, bucko.” Bucko. Wow, he was even worse tha Denki. Like awkwardness personified. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice the gay panic overflowing in Hitoshi. He always had that effect on him. Just physical attraction though, or else he’d be in a real uncomfortable situation when he and Jirou finally started dating. The attraction was mutual, too, which made it lightly less embarrassing.

“Bucko?” Eraser questioned, trying to use an even tone, but failing slightly after unceremoniously snorting. Why did he have to pull out his insecurities about his stupidity with words like that? Rotten bastard. “Wow, you are a disaster.” He stated plainly.

“I fucking know that!” He shouted without thinking about it. ‘Wow, I’m gonna get a lashing for that swear…’ He thought instinctually. Of course, it triggered a flashback, why wouldn’t it?

\\\

"Shit." He swore under his breath as he realized the food he was forced to cook was burned. Little did he know that was a worse mistake than burning the eggs.

"What did you just say? His mother asked him in the calm tone that always meant a storm was coming. He went to turn the burner off, so he wouldn't screw up their meal any more. At least that was a good decision. "What the HELL did you say you little brat?"

When it came to his mother, he thought of her like a feral dog. Sometimes, it could be sweet, even cuddly, even, but always be on edge. Never get too comfortable. And if you upset it? Running would only make it worse, so you keep your eyes trained on the floor, and only take a step back if the dog does, as a sign of submission. You'd never get complete control over them because of it, but it was worse than getting a permanent scar from them.

Eventually, there was nowhere left to back off, and she grabbed him by the collar, slamming him into the wall. She'd been wanting to do that all day, he could. He didn't wince when his head hit the walll. He'd be proud of himself for that later, when he was trying to bandage his wounds.

"Quit it with the swearing." She demanded. "You've already made our family look bad enough with your vilainous quirk! Why can't you just be a good kid?" She screamed. Why did she always have to scream? She took notice of the burnt eggs on the still-hot pan. Why did she have to notice? No, it wasn't her fault. It was always his fault, he knew that. None of it would've happened if he had just paid attention. I fhe hadn't been born like a villain.

Of all the horrible things she could'e done, she had to choose the worst option. She smirked. every time she smirked, it meant she had some sort of awful idea, some twisted inspiration. She clutched his arm so hard it would no doubt start bruising in under an hour. She dragged him to the oven. That time, he couldn't help but resist her. He tugged and pulled with all the strength as his tiny, malnourished and fatigued child body would allow, but it was no match for his mother.

"You'll learn what it feels like to be burned, brat. Maybe next time you'll think twice about hurting our eggs like that." Next time. The word implied she would  let him live. He didn't no whether to be comforted or dissapointed. But, whatever emotion it was, it was strong enough to stop him from screaming too loudly as his forearm was pressed against the burner. Thank god he turned it off.

“---Toshi ---- ba--.” The voice sounded familiar, clearly male, but not the harsh tone of his father. This one was gentle. Not in the way that his moher's was when she was pretending to love him, but genuine. If he didn't know any better, he'd say it was almost... loving.

His forearm was still pained with the burn, but everything else was blurry, far away, distorted. Still, he continued to cry and apologize.

///

“It wasn’t your fault.” The man’s voice said calmly, reassuringly. He said it with such solid certainty, Hitoshi believed it. His mother and father swore all the time, why was it any different for him? To be fair, he did burn the eggs… “You didn’t deserve that.” He didn’t? Why was the voice speaking in pas tense? Was he in the past? Yeah, the past. The pain in his arm dulled, but he was still confused. The scene that appeared around him wasn’t his house, where was he? He closed his eyes, blocking out the somewhat familiar area.

“Open your eyes.” He said firmly, but still managing to be just as calm and reassuring as before. He wanted them to stay closed, to never see the sight of his mother and father again. His brain still felt fuzzy. “Open them, please.” Please. It wasn’t he was told often. He was surprised enough by it that he complied.

Dad. He saw dad. And he started sobbing. All the feelings that came after a flashback came to him. “Can I touch you?” He asked softly, much softer than normal.

“Yes. Yes!” He yelled desperately. God, he wanted to be hugged by his dad so badly. He was the only person who could make him feel better, he NEEDED his support. He continued to sob as he approached Hitoshi slowly. He made sure not to flinch at his movements, so he’d continue coming towards him. When he made it to his side, he prepared to speak again, to ask him what he wanted; ‘like a good parent would’, he reminded himself. “Hug, please.” He practically begged him.

“Okay.” He slowly leaned forward, cautiously wrapping his arms around his upper back, a place where he knew Hitoshi wouldn’t be triggered by. Hitoshi quickly wrapped his arms around him, tighter than normal, and his dad quickly followed suit. He wept into his shoulder, until he started the grounding techniques, making sure he continued to keep his eyes open.

---

After a few hours, he was fully recovered from his flashback, as it was much worse than usual. But, he still had one thing on his mind that he thought of all throughout the recovery period. “Can we go get Pizza Roll?” He asked quietly to his dad.

Dad. It felt right. He had been holding back from using the word since he first moved in with the Aizawa-Yamada couple and their younger child. He had been reclusive due to his trust issues with parental figures and anxiety that they didn’t truly think of him as their son. He had only been with them for about a year; right after Hitoshi was transferred to the hero course, when his dad first found out about his parents’ abusive behaviour. Eri had still been settling into her home, and he didn’t want to disrupt that.

Everything about them was so amazing, just what he imagined the ideal parents to be. While Present Mic - the other dad - was loud, he always avoided making his voice louder in a situation that either his younger sister, Eri, or himself could interpret as him being mad. And dad… well, there was no one better to deal with his shit.

Sure, he was tough on the outside, but it was obvious whenever his students or children were upset or hurt that he was just a huge softy who had a LOT of trouble with showing affection. Even the soft smile he was wearing under his surprisingly soft scarf while responding to Hitoshi was telling of his real feelings. “Are we visiting home, staying home for a while, or… relieving Eri and Hizashi of the cat after a drop off?” He really knew how to help him after a flashback. Calling it his home, so he’d feel welcomed and safe. He really was the best.

Honestly, with he just felt like stealing the cat and staying in the place Katsuki was hanging out in, just to feel closer to his friend. “Take her back here?” He asked softly. As expected, he agreed and started going to the car, which Shouto thankfully gave back.

They were both quiet on the ride back to their home. Hitoshi rode in the back seat as usual, since he was terrified of driving, and when you were in the shotgun, you could see all the possible awful outcomes with every asshole who was generally unfit for driving, but did despite that. Plus, he was used to hanging with little Eri in the back, taking care of her in case of a crash. It made them both feel better.

Because of his love for Hizashi and his little sister, he felt guilty for wanting to go back to school with their cat. He loved them both so much, and wanted to be with them most of the time, but it wasn’t what he wanted at that moment. He voiced his concerns, as he’d been encouraged to do with his adoptive family.

“Should I stay there for them, should I tell them how I’m feeling, will they be upset?” He was spiralling, they both recognized that, but he felt good just rattling off his worries. It made him less tense saying it out loud, and realized how farfetched that sounded. Neither of them would be offended, especially Eri, who already knew how he felt, due to her similar experiences with PTSD.

However, his dad still answered. “I don’t think they’ll be upset.” He said it with such surety, Hitoshi had no choice but to believe him, and the tension seeped out of him. “If you want, I could go in alone, so you wouldn’t have to explain yourself at all.” What he really meant was ‘feeling of obligation to explain yourself’, but it was better left unsaid.

“Sounds awesome.” He said genuinely, and let exhaustion take over him, feeling safe enough to sleep in someone else’s presence for the first time in twelve years.

Another few hours later, he woke up. Flashbacks were the only thing that could give him a proper sleep, other than his friend coming back to life, even after seven hours total the same day. It was one of the best sleeps he had ever had. No, THE best. He didn’t have many, no competition, really. He wasn't in the car anymore, he was in the semi-familiar dorm, meaning… his dad had carried him all the way from the car to his dorm. That realization was simultaneously comforting and anxiety inducing.

Where was he? “Hey kid. You’re awake.” He fell off his bed out of surprise. His aptness for stealth was way too good for his heart to handle. “Jesus, are you okay?” He asked, nervousness creeping into his voice. Damn, he thought that was a reaction to- ugh.

“Fine. Jesus, were you on the ceiling? How the fuck?” He asked genuinely baffled. Sure, he was fit, but it was physically impossible to stick to the wall like the pre-quirk superhero Spider-Man without a quirk that would allow you to do that. He didn’t even have his scarf to assist him. The man would never fail to confuse Hitoshi.

“I have no idea.” He answered, and Hitoshi couldn’t quite tell whether he was telling the truth.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You were tired.”

“I’m always tired.”

“Yes, but this time you could actually fall asleep. Not only that, but it was a peaceful sleep.” Fair enough, he couldn’t argue on that point, as much as he wanted to. He couldn’t imagine  having to take care of a kid who couldn’t sleep, so it made sense he would want to keep him unconscious.

“Pizza Roll?”

“She’s in the old room, as usual.” He stated plainly, confirming his suspicions. Most of the time, all of them had to be at the school. Technically, Eri had no obligations there, but it wasn’t like they could leave her alone there. Plus, she had an awesome baby-sitter at the school. That meant that Pizza Roll would be left alone, but they couldn’t do that all the time. As good as a cat she was, she couldn’t feed and water herself, as she was a domestic cat. Meaning, they had to take her to a school. They had a room to put her in, and an abandoned classroom that they had cleaned up for her.

She was good at staying quiet, so they didn’t have to worry about her being loud and alerting someone of her location, and took a leisurely stroll. He texted Shouto their location, in case he got worried or wanted to see them.

Little did he know how badly that would affect their relaxation time. Oh well, they had stuff to do anyway.

Chapter Text

Shouto was incapable of keeping up with what he was saying. Words flowed out from his mouth before he had a chance to process them himself. All the information was stored in his head, and he made a point to memorize every piece of evidence he could have gathered, so why would he need to think about what he was saying when it came so naturally?

At least he caught on to some of the words. He had definitely mentioned the raging bitch face, Otsuka, Bakugou’s killer, and the different possible quirks she could’ve had, and he was certain that Shinsou was the only one keeping up with him. It was fine, since he could recap to Aizawa better than he could, Kirishima already had the details, and it wasn’t necessary for Mid- Izuku to be informed until after Aizawa and Shinsou (hopefully) agreed to his plan.

Finally, he reached the end of his long-winded presentation. (Yes, he had the time to throw together a basic PowerPoint. It didn’t even have effects or anything, so get over it.) “And, I’d like you to interrogate her, and eventually stop her quirk’s effects. (If it doesn’t kill Bakugou, of course.)” He finished.

Neither of them had responded. Fifty seconds went by, and Aizawa, surprisingly, was the first to speak. “Okay,” He said slowly, with an expression Shouto hadn’t seen on him before, and as such, couldn’t read. “So, I’ll recap here. You want me to interrogate a murderer that hasn’t yet been convicted of a crime in a court yet, (though she most definitely will be considering the camera footage and many witnesses) because you THINK her quirk might’ve affected Bakugou, when it isn’t even in the registry.” Oh, he followed along much better than Shouto thought he would.

“Exactly.” He stated simply, not picking up whatever Aizawa was throwing down. “I even know which police station she’s in currently.” He said proudly. It took a while to get that information. No matter how lax the citizens had gotten about security since heroes became part of everyday society, it was still a police station.

Sighing, Aizawa responded. Why did he sigh? He only sighed when he was annoyed or tired. To be honest, he looked a little of both. “Shouto,” The use of his given name startled his boyfriend. Right, he didn’t know about his living situation. He would fill him in on everything he had missed once the whole mess was done with. “I can’t just do that. I have no authority in a police station, and no cause that doesn’t make us sound crazy.” Oh. He wasn’t annoyed or tired, he was upset. He wanted to help, but he didn’t have any helpful jurisdiction.

Well, it made Shouto’s job easier, believe it or not. Due to his response, he knew that Aizawa would be cooperative under the right circumstances. Luck must’ve been on their side, because they didn’t have the right circumstances. They had perfect ones.

“I must’ve forgotten to mention it before, I apologize.” He said, bowing low to express his penitence. In reality, the only reason he was pausing to bow was to create dramatic tension. Apparently, it was well-executed, as it had everyone on the edge if their seats, both figuratively, and in Shinsou’s case, very literally.

“Mention what?” Shinsou asked, leaning forward even more than he had been before, a tic they both shared when they were insatiably curious about something.

“Oh, the police station that ms. Otsuka Sumi is being held in.” He started pushing down his cuticles casually, with an expressionless face, as Bakugou taught him. He paused even further, and the anticipation was practically tangible. “Specifically, the detective in charge of her investigation.” Aizawa’s eyes widened. Finally, he saw where he was going. “Mr. Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. It’s why I wanted you to help. (Plus, he wouldn’t allow a minor to come alone.)”

Everyone there knew the name. Either they had been investigated after the Kamino incident, or, in Aizawa’s case, were friends with him.

Despite the good news, Aizawa continued to look skeptical. “What do you mean ‘allow a minor’?” Ah, that would be the tricky part. Shouto started sweating nervously. He knew it wouldn’t go over well with how protective he was.

“Umm-” He started nervously, fidgeting with the little toy he had in his pocket for stressful situations. “Well, according to the files,” He shouldn’t have mentioned the files, Aizawa looked all the more skeptical. “She hasn’t talked at all. Hasn’t made her phone call or hired a lawyer. Not a word.” He rambled, fidgeting more intensely. "So, she wouldn’t be keen on talking to Bakugou’s teacher. But, maybe if you could trick her into talking, Shinsou could-”

That was when it started going south. He activated his quirk, making his hair stand up and his eyes glow a dangerous red. He raised his hand. Shit.

\\\

"Now stand up." Endeavour's voice, his vomit coated the floor.

‘This is a flashback, a flashback.’ He repeated in his head. ‘An auditory and visual flashback.’

"If you get hurt that easily, you can forget about beating All Might"  He focused on breathing, in for four seconds, hold for seven, exhale for eight. Repeat the pattern. "Or even a small-time villain!' He berated.

His mother moved to protect him. ‘No, she isn’t there anymore. That was twelve years ago. We’re both safe.’

"He can take it, get out of my way!" He heard her body hit the ground. He had grounding techniques, it was okay, he’d be okay. The smells and tastes and feelings that should’ve been there weren’t, meaning it wasn’t real.

"Mama?" His pathetic, child voice asked. That wasn’t his voice, it wasn’t real. He stamped his feet on the ground. He wasn’t there anymore, he could leave. He closed his eyes firmly. Maybe when he opened them back up, he’d be back. Aizawa wasn’t going to hurt him, he SHOULD’VE known that.

///

“Shouto!” Izuku. The stress drained back out of his body. He was on the floor. When had he done that? He tried walking toward him, but he flinched involuntarily. No touch then. It wasn’t his first rodeo using healthy coping mechanisms, unlike Shinsou. Endeavour noticed his constant flinching and took him to a private psychiatrist, who gave him surprisingly good advice for an immoral bastard. It helped hi through his many flashbacks. That, and a helpful friend named Google educated him well.

Since he knew about PTSD better than Shouto, even though he didn’t personally have it, Aizawa blocked him from coming closer, which he was extremely thankful for. He tried to verbalize his gratitude, but words were hard at that moment. “Shouto?” Aizawa gently whispered.

“Ugh. Sorry.” Shouto grunted, still unmotivated to drag himself off the floor.

“Don’t be sorry, I should be the one who’s apologizing. I shouldn’t have lifted my hand in an intense moment.” He apologized.

“It was an overreaction.”

“No it wasn’t.” Shinsou said, ironically contradicting how he apologized every time he had a flashback. Then again, he said the same thing as Shinsou when he talked like that.

“Wha- what happened?” Izuku asked, voice glazed with concern.

“Flashback.” Shouto explained oh so eloquently.

“Oh…” At first, he seemed stunned, as expected, but it slowly developed into reluctant understanding. After hearing everything at the sports festival, it made sense that he would get it. “We should do this after.” He said firmly.

“No. We need to do this now. We don’t know what side effects there could be if we wait too long to confront Otsuka.” He shot back, finally standing up, still feeling the awful effects of the flashback, despite how short it was. He knew everyone else was hesitant, but he would be much more upset if he lost Bakugou than if he didn’t recover properly from a flashback.

Reluctantly, they backed off. “What do you say?”

---

“What do you say?” He said it like it was a quick, simple answer. But, he didn’t understand. Obviously Shouta wanted to help Bakugou, but it wasn’t that easy. Tsukauchi being the lead detective helped, sure, but what about Shinsou? He couldn’t just allow him to go into a police station with barely any preparation or plan to get her to talk, or to deal with the many potential triggers he could find. That is if he could even get the favour from Tsukauchi without him asking any questions. Even when he was extra vague while asking, he could give SOME information, vital or not.

But, in this scenario, he couldn’t say anything. Tsukauchi was even more of a stickler for the rules than Aizawa was, which was saying something, so he wouldn’t let him go and investigate the murderer of a student he was (admittedly) more fond of than most with a minor. It just… wasn’t rational.

Although, recently he had been abandoning his usual rationality, and, as much as he hated to admit it, it had led him to some pretty good things. If he had obeyed rationality, he would never have entertained the idea that Bakugou might’ve been alive, much less suggest the goddamn idea. So, maybe it would end up working out if he went with spontaneity and impracticality again.

On the other hand, was it worth risking Hitoshi’s safety and possibly getting arrested on a hunch?

“Dad,” He almost choked on his spit, but as a professional, he managed to contain himself. Months they were together, and although he didn’t want to pressure him, Shouta really wanted to feel like he thought of him at least like a father figure. It made tears well up in his eyes, but he’d never admit it in a million years, at least not in front of his other students. Sure, most of them were aware of their living situation (Kirishima too, after being with Hitoshi and Bakugou for do long), but the Problem-Child was still in the room.

Hitoshi paused at the wheels that were almost visibly turning in his dad’s (Aw) head, and he processed that Hitoshi had something to say, so he shut up his internal, demonic-yet-fatherly screeching and went into the slouching position that always seemed to relax his kids. As usual, it worked, and Hitoshi spoke. “We should do it.”

About what he expected. He knew how heroic his son was, even though he had only been enrolled in the hero course officially for just over a year. “I know you think it’s not worth it or whatever-” Woah.

“Is that what you think?”

“Well, you’re going to say no, since it’s ‘too risky’ or ‘irrational’, so you’re essentially saying that saving Bakugou isn’t worth the risk.” He opened his mouth to protest, but he knew that, in all honesty, what Hitoshi was saying was true. He was so used to using logic, the objective reasoning, that he had never considered the emotions of everyone in the school, or his own. If, for once, he used his heart to make the hard decisions, would it benefit his students who were suffering from grief more than leaving it alone due to the risk?

With the Kamino incident, the five that went knew the risk could be their expulsion, but went anyway. They went despite the immense bargain, just for Bakugou. Maybe it was time he did the same. Maybe potentially getting arrested was worth it. And Hitoshi was old enough to make his own decision on the matter. He agreed to being exposed to that, because of how much he loved his friend.

He could admit it to himself. Bakugou was special to him. Now, it was about time that he decided to show him.

“Hitoshi.” The stern gaze of his innocent, adorable child caught him off guard, but he continued with unwavering conviction. “You’re right. We need to prioritize Bakugou right now. I want to help him as much as you do, and I will do everything in my power to bring that sadistic woman down with you.”

“I… really?” The intensity he was giving off in waves just a few moments before had all but evaporated, replaced with wonder and awe.

“Yeah. Let’s wreck that bitch, kid.” Shouta didn’t typically swear outside his mind, being around impressionable children, including a six-year-old made it a habit, so everyone was taken aback by his strong language.

Problem-Child gasped, Shouto raised an eyebrow, which was basically the equivalent of having a mental breakdown for him, Hitoshi fist-pumped and Kirishima had… an amused smile? Until a party popper came from nowhere and went off. Bakugou. Right, he just encouraged swearing in front of a kid he berated for constantly cussing. He would naturally use it as leverage for years to come.

“Let’s wreck her.” The kids agreed in unison, as they had the weird ability to do.

Otsuka Sumi, huh? She had no idea what was coming to her. At least twenty future top-ranked heroes were out for her blood.

Chapter Text

Eijirou was being petty. He’d admit it, since it was pretty obvious, or at least obvious enough that he couldn’t deny it. It wasn’t like it was a personal attack on him if Katsuki decided to sleep with some guys. He wasn’t the slut police. Who cares?

Okay, maybe he cared, but that wasn’t the point. Sure, when he was a kid, he imagined sex to be this magical thing, and he had these expectations set, but as he got older, he realized his first time would probably be disappointing, and he’d probably be drunk, high or both. Let’s face it, his friends were borderline fanatical about drugs and alcohol, that was probably how it would go down.

Anyway, having a fellow virgin as his first sexual partner was actually worse than the alternative. Not that he expected Katsuki to be his first sexual partner, since that was a dream that was far too out of his reach, but even if he expected that for whatever reason, it wasn’t his place to be upset about it.

From the obvious tension between his classmates, the obscene noises he chalked up to… other teenage boy activities, and the time the squad called a code black because Mina thought she saw Katsuki in a… compromising position with a ‘possibly heterochromatic dude’, which Sero actively pointed out that it could’ve been Todoroki, he should’ve picked up on something. It wasn’t like he was even trying to be subtle, or dishonest (which was super rare to begin with), but Eijirou had been so deep in denial that he refused to see any of it.

If anything, he should’ve been mad at himself. Really, he probably was, but wanted to be angry at Katsuki. Who’s business was it, what he did in his spare time? It didn’t even FEEL like he was trying to upset him, which was weird considering how much weird shit he felt, and he even dared to look GUILTY when Eijirou stormed away in a huff. It was entirely his fault, and he shouldn’t have been blaming Katsuki.

Nevertheless, he was seething for what reason didn’t matter. Usually, he’d make a point to be aware of his emotions, not hurting others because of them, and not blaming them on the wrong person, but he’d been feeling weird for the past few days.

Hence, why he agreed to go to therapy at Todoroki’s suggestion. Though he wasn’t exactly an expert with mental health, he could say that there was SOMETHING wrong. He’d been irritable and upset, and all these fluctuating emotions, just in one day. Hell, he had run for hours just to escape his stupid emotions. They were flaring up at the worst time, like a bad case of hemorrhoids. He did feel bad seeing the dejected look on his face, but he kept following Todoroki without looking back or saying anything. He just wanted a nap where he could sleep off his emotions.

Seeing the adorable cat really helped to lighten his mood, but as soon as Todoroki started to ramble on about all the depressing shit that had happened, that jovial atmosphere dissipated. He stroked the cat in a circular motion while trying to tune him out. Katsuki was unbothered, or that’s how he appeared to be anyway, so he felt ridiculous for being so sensitive to what he had already heard before.

Then, he got to Otsuka. Merely the mention of her name made unadulterated rage pulse through his system. He felt the urge to punch something. He finally understood Katsuki’s impulse to spar whenever he got intensely frustrated about something.

Jesus, he just wanted to burn the woman alive, no matter his feelings towards Katsuki at that moment. She murdered his best friend, the guy he admittedly loved, of course he wanted to give her a beating and a half. “She’s the one who killed Bakugou, and I think that’s the quirk she has.” He caught only a snippet of what he was saying. “And, I’d like you to interrogate her, and eventually stop her quirk’s effects. (If it doesn’t kill Bakugou, of course.)” He finally ended the rant.

‘Kill Bakugou’? He didn’t even consider that’s what could happen. He was aware that his ghostliness (or whatever you want to call it), was the only thing that was keeping Katsuki tethered to their reality instead of whatever the hell (hah) that came afterwards. What if the woman who killed him was the person he had to thank for keeping him around?

Would Katsuki even accept the option of sticking around if that was the condition? He would have to be a ghost for the entire time that Otsuka was alive, unable to accomplish any of his many goals, and he’d be indebted to the person who murdered him for… intentionally not murdering him? Or, was it unintentional? If she learned that she affected him with her quirk, would she stop using it? Even if she didn’t, would Katsuki be okay to stay with them? How selfish was it to make someone stay alive when they were in a pointless, miserable existence just so they wouldn’t leave your side? That wasn’t even considering the fact that he had been intentionally directing his anger at him and ignoring him for no good reason.

His internal panicking and contemplation was cut short by a familiar chill and unnecessarily fervent yelling. Katsuki. “What?” He whispered, trying not to interrupt the conversation that Eraser and Todoroki were apparently having.

“Tsukauchi is the lead detective, pay attention to what they’re saying. This is an important conversation, about the investigation.” A pang of guilt went through him. He’d been so wrapped up in his anxieties that he forgot about Katsuki’s problem. “You’re the one who wanted to go along with whatever Half n’ Half’s plan is.” His tone was surprisingly calm and quiet. He realized it was probably because he thought Eijirou was mad at him.

What a jackass, he hadn’t even apologized yet. ‘One thing at a time.’ he reminded himself, trying to focus on what they were saying. “What do you mean ‘allow a minor’?” Aizawa asked with thinly veiled agitation. Wow, he had missed a good chunk of information, huh? He had never seen Todoroki look nervous.

No, it wasn’t as much nervous as it was… Well, when he thought about it, it looked an awful lot like Katsuki’s expression when his parents…

Shit.

It wouldn’t go well.

---

“Umm- Well, according to the files, She hasn’t talked at all. Hasn’t made her phone call or hired a lawyer. Not a word.” Throughout the rambling, he became quickly more stressed, going from a frightened expression and subtle fidgeting to looking ghastly pale in seconds.

Unlike Eijirou, Aizawa didn’t seem to be picking up on any signals. Instead of calming down to lower the tensity rapidly increasing in Todoroki, he went from slightly agitated to full-on anger. It was unnerving, and unjustified. He was going to go over to Aizawa to make him chill out for Todoroki’s sake, but Katsuki intervened. “Don’t make any sudden moves, just stay still.” He said in the calm voice that always meant something was wrong.

He had trouble resisting when Todoroki backed himself into the wall, fidgeting almost desperately. "So, she wouldn’t be keen on talking to Bakugou’s teacher. But, maybe if you could trick her into talking, Shinsou could-”

That was when everything went wrong. As Eraser’s hand raised in the air, likely to make some Iida-like gestures to emphasize the point, Todoroki sunk to the ground, his eyes glazed over, curling into himself. Finally, Eraser backed off, taking the hint. Todoroki started muttering, looking even more terrified than he did before. Aizawa looked guilty and, more so, frantic, an emotion he’d never seen on his teacher before. He started calling his name over and over, but he wasn’t responding.

Eijirou wanted to help, but was once again ushered back by Katsuki. What was happening? After a bit of struggle, he came back to himself, but flinched violently when Midoriya rushed over to help him. His mind went back to a lesson they had back in their second year. The most common thing they’d come across in the hero career, as they learned, was post-traumatic stress disorder. They learned how to deal with civilians with PTSD, and how to cope with it themselves. The flinching, symptoms of a flashback, and the well-known abuse he had suffered as a child. The PTSD was kind of a given.

Like he was thinking about before, Katsuki had the same reaction when his parents were around. Meaning, his friend was suffering from PTSD, and he didn’t know, didn’t help, didn’t do anything.

Wow, that would REALLY help dig himself out of the hole of low self-esteem and misery he was in.

But, despite his internal frustration, which, thankfully, everyone seemed oblivious to, the conversation in front of him carried on. Todoroki finally stood up, which alleviated at least some of the worry Eijirou was feeling, and stood up to Aizawa, albeit meeker than before. “No. We need to do this now.” He said firmly. Wait, do what now? He hadn’t been following. “We don’t know what side effects there could be if we wait too long to confront Otsuka.” Oh, that.

Side effects? What, even more to pile on to his heap of worry? How fantastic.

“What do you say?”

Aizawa looked taken aback, confused and conflicted all at the same time. He had never seen him emote as much as he did at that moment. It didn’t even disappear after a while, which was even more unexpected.

“What are they talking about?” He whispered to Katsuki, which, considering his hearing impairment and not looking at his lips to read them, was a bad idea. He tried nudging him, but his elbow just went straight through, and unlike Eijirou, who could feel a chill, Katsuki couldn’t feel anything.

Thankfully, he could still see, and Eijirou’s pathetic attempt at making physical contact with him caught his attention. “What do you want, Shitty Hair?” He asked with a grunt. “Unlike you, I’m trying to listen to them.” Oof, punch to the gut. True, he had been distracted, however, he had been preoccupied with existential dread. He couldn’t be blamed for that!

He signed his answer, so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice. “God, seriously?” He yelled in frustration. It was fair, he had to admit.

Cooling down, he answered as calmly as he could. He had to be more careful, as Katsuki always got much more agitated when he was nervous about something. It made sense why he was acting that way, considering how stressful the day had been overall. He really needed sleep. They both did. “Okay, he’s asking if Aizawa is going to help with the interrogation. So far, he hasn’t…” He trailed off, swallowing a lump. “He hasn’t responded.” Ahem, WHAT?!

Moments before, he had felt sympathy for their homeroom teacher, but now the look of confliction pissed him off. For the first time, even after assigning inordinate amounts of homework, Eijirou really wanted to punch him.

Thankfully, Hitoshi tipped the scales. “Dad,” Woah. He knew they lived together, but he didn’t know they were THAT close. It just made the extent of his impartiality that much more impressive. Though, considering the shocked look on Eraser’s face, he didn’t know that they were that close either. “We should do it. I know you think it’s not worth it or whatever-” Woah, harsh.

Well, Eijirou felt the same way, but after calling someone ‘dad’ for what appeared to be the first time, it was brutal. “Is that what you think?” The raw emotion in his voice made Eijirou’s animosity disappear. He tried empathizing with Aizawa instead of just attacking him. He didn’t want to put his son-figure in danger, but he also didn’t want to go and completely abandon his student in his time of need. He was put in a tough spot.

But, at the same time, Shinsou could make the decision of risking his safety himself. And, as was obvious, he was willing. “Well, you’re going to say no, since it’s ‘too risky’ or ‘irrational’, so you’re essentially saying that saving Bakugou isn’t worth the risk.” Again, harsh, but he needed to hear it.

He leaned down to Shinsou. “Hitoshi,” the look on the younger man’s face didn’t lose its intensity. Both he and Eijirou prepared to argue their point. “You’re right. We need to prioritize Bakugou right now. I want to help him as much as you do, and I will do everything in my power to bring that sadistic woman down with you.” Oh. Sometimes, he acted so uncaring that Eijirou forgot he was a huge badass.

“I… really?”

“Yeah. Let’s wreck that bitch, kid.” Damn, he could swear?

He was taken aback, but it was nothing compared to Katsuki’s reaction. He started applauding and cheering like a child who had just seen fireworks for the first time. “I will use this against him forever! Fuck you for telling me not to swear little man!” He disappeared, going up to a floor further up.

His unjustified annoyance with Katsuki faded, leaving him with an amused smirk. God, he loved that man so much.

After coming back down, he realized he had a party popper in his hand. Did he just have that stored somewhere, awaiting the moment he unexpectedly swore? Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised. He popped it, making everyone except Aizawa burst into laughter.

Then he caught sight of Eijirou, and his wide smile and soft laughter. All the remaining tension left him, and their dynamic was restored. He wished he knew it was that simple before.

Chapter Text

Icyhot and the two recruits wanted to talk some of the logistics out, coming up with a plan of action or something. Deku, Eijirou and Katsuki were left alone, since they took the pudgy cat with them.

The shitty nerd looked like he was either about to burst out crying, piss himself or start rambling, and Katsuki couldn’t decide which was worse. “Kirishima,” He started, surprisingly slowly. He took a moment, and Katsuki reconsidered the likelihood of the ‘pissing himself’ option. “You can see Kacchan? Is he okay? Of course, he isn’t okay, I mean, just look at what he’s gone through, I’m sorry, that was an insensitive question. But, what state is he in? Painful or not? What happened with the party popper? Can he seriously interact with tangible objects-?”

So, he decided. Talking was the worse option. And since he couldn’t deal with the emotional baggage that came with crying, so… that made piss the best? But, despite his annoyance, maybe he could help answer one of Deku’s questions. Yes, he could seriously interact with tangible objects, and he could prove that. And, if anyone asked why Deku had to break a toe dodging a desk, it was in the name of SCIENCE.

Honestly, he was less surprised that Deku could dodge it than he was that he could throw it far enough to hit him at all. “Katsuki!” Eijirou scolded, trying to help Deku back up. Shit, he got in trouble.

Instead of letting out a string of curses, or being mad at Katsuki, like any normal person would, Deku started crying. Damn, two out of the three options covered. “He, he really is alive!” Uh, wrong. He was pretty sure that was his corpse at the funeral. Almost reading his mind, he clarified. “I mean, he’s here. He’s the only one with-” He took a pause to sniffle and whimper pathetically. “‘The balls’ to throw a desk at me.” Wow, THAT was what gave him away? Ouch. I mean, fair, but still.

At that, surprisingly, instead of chastising Katsuki, Eijirou let out a snicker. “True, there isn’t anyone else who’d decide injuring one of the strongest is a good idea.” ‘One of the strongest.’ Even after dying, Eijirou was still clinging to the ridiculous notion that he was somehow more powerful than Deku. It was both really sweet, and ultimately moronic.

“I didn’t think it was a good idea, I just wanted him to shut up.” He stated bluntly.

“Seriously, you are on thin ice here, shut your mouth before I start telling people you’re saying nice things.” Betrayal! The worst form of punishment, insinuating that he could be kind. He seemed to be the only one who didn’t think it was funny, as the nerd started laughing.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“He says he loves you.” Bastard, he really did it.

“No, he really didn’t.” Deku declared with surety, through his copious laughter. “He threatened murder, didn’t he?” Katsuki faked a sniffle.

“He really does know me, doesn’t he?” It was supposed to be a joke, but it ended up sounding more genuine than he intended it to be. It was true, Deku really did know him. Not just in the normal, ‘I’ve known him since we were two’ type of way, but REALLY knew him. Deep stuff. It was one of the reasons Deku could scare him (unlike just about anything else), he could easily make Katsuki vulnerable with all he knew.

But, he had come to realize after they had both gotten into UA together, he would never use that against him. He… genuinely cherished Katsuki, and wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, not even on accident. They had… bonded.

It was too late for them to have a completely normal relationship, but since when had either of them been normal? Never, that’s when. They worked just fine they were. As much as he’d threaten him, they weren’t sincere. He honestly bore no ill will toward him anymore, just rivalry. One that Deku was… winning, but he had come to terms with that. Of course, he’d never give up on his goals, but he could accept it if (when) Deku became the number one hero. That was the highest praise he’d give anyone. (other than Eijirou, of course)

Calming down, Deku wore a thoughtful expression. “Seriously,” Uh oh, a serious topic. Those kinds were the worst for Katsuki. Always so tense. “Should we tell everyone else?” Not that shit again. They had been through the same conversation fifteen million times already! Katsuki didn’t care either way, and Eijirou didn’t know how to tell them without seeming insane.

“We should.” Or… not, apparently?

“Wait, the nerd suggesting it was all it took?” He wouldn’t say he was offended, (well, he would, but-) since he specifically indicated how much he didn’t give two shits, but he encouraged it before Eijirou gave his two cents on the matter. Did Deku merely asking about it mean more to him?

“It isn’t like that.” He assured calmly. “I’ve been thinking about it, but haven’t really gotten the chance to talk with you. I know you said you don’t care, but it’s your choice.” Fuck, he was thoughtful. Actually, after the incident with the teacup, he really had changed his mind. Seeing them all depressed and shit… he just wanted them to know he was still around and kicking.

“After seeing everyone feeling so down in the common room, I just… feel like they could use some hope.” Eijirou said softly, voicing exactly what he was thinking moments ago. Katsuki snorted. “What, is that so funny?” He asked, offended.

“No, it’s just… we’re really on the same wavelength there.”

“Really?” He nodded. “You think we should tell them too? And the with floating teacup incident, it wouldn’t seem that farfetched!” He explained. Wow, he didn’t even think of that part. He was right though, that was a main component in why he’d never told anyone, y’know, pretty hard thing to explain without sounding crazy.

Deku leapt up. “You’re both agreeing to tell them?” He asked excitedly. “I was worried you’d refuse, but it’s unanimous? And, what do you mean by ‘teacup incident’?”

“It’s a bit of a long story, but now Tokoyami thinks I’m a prophet for a god from his… cult? Honestly, I was worried too, but Katsuki seems pretty adamant.” The bastard betrayed him again! “But, that raises the question,” He started.

“How do we tell them?”

---

“How do we tell them?” Well, Izuku hadn’t really thought that far into the future, (he so very rarely did) as he was busy preparing an inspirational speech that would convince them both telling the class would be the best option. After receiving a ‘yes’ without having to put effort into it, he was kind of… lost.

Well, it couldn’t be that hard to come up with something so simple. I mean, if he could deal getting every bone in his body being shattered every other Tuesday, going through a ten-month, intense training regime, defeating Hero-Killer Stain, Muscular, several nomu, Overhaul and going toe-to-toe with Shigaraki, how could telling his classmates be a challenge? “We… do… something.”

Or not, apparently. Words of inspiration came so easily to him, so why wouldn’t they come out when he wanted them to? True, he had just come up with the idea of telling them, but he had been put on the spot more than once before. “That’s… helpful.” Kirishima said, trying to stay upbeat and not hurt his feelings. He was too nice. Besides, he already knew that he failed spectacularly in coming up with a plan, there was no need to protect him from that fact.

“Sorry, I know that wasn’t good, but I just realized that I have no plan of action.” He admitted bashfully.

“What else is new?” Kirishima deadpanned. Oof, who knew that he was packing some sass behind his adorable exterior? “Sorry, that came out wrong.” Could it have come out right? “I just meant, you can be really reckless.” He saw where that was heading.

“Okay, I know you have good intentions and all, but I’ve been getting the same lecture from all of our teachers and then some, I know I’m reckless, but can we not do this now?” He pleaded.

“No, I wasn’t reprimanding you or anything!” He illustrated quickly, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that had once again come between the Christmas-coloured classmates. “Actually, that was meant to be a compliment.” Pretty bad compliment. “Even though you hardly have plans, you always manage to get a great result. (Maybe with a broken bone or eighteen, but still!)” That last part didn’t need to be added, but Izuku bit his tongue.

“And how is that supposed to help?” He asked, trying to keep the annoyance from showing in his voice.

“I say we go rushing in and go with the flow. Let’s just hope we come up with something a little more articulate than what you said before.” He suggested with one more jab for good measure.

Rushing in without a plan of action? As much as it was both of their styles, he doubted Kacchan would approve of their (non)methods, nor would their extraordinarily emotionally fragile classmates, who would probably end up having a breakdown if hey phrased things the wrong way. “I don’t know Kirishima, that doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“Bro, none of us are good at thinking.” There was some wincing and laughing that indicated Kacchan’s anger, but no one needed them to figure out how furious he’d be. Kirishima was the only one besides Monoma who had the guts to mess with him like that. They were a perfect match, he had to admit. “And,” He emphasized the word, probably to get the explosive teen’s attention. “We work a whole lot better when we just blurt stuff out, since we’re so used to our plans going to shit.”

Unfortunately, he had to agree with that, though it could’ve been said in a less vulgar way. Anything he had tried to plan out always seemed to go wrong, but he adapted well. So, maybe he was onto something. “Okay. Let’s go.”

They walked to an important destination for the millionth time in that long day. Izuku couldn’t deal with being in the dorms, but his mood had improved astronomically after their dramatic encounter at the school gates, and he hadn’t talked to Iida, Uraraka or Tsu for an entire week, so he was actually pretty eager to go.

Needless to say, everyone looked to be astonished to see the two who were the most affected by Kacchan’s death together and smiling. Though Kirishima had been upset earlier, he looked to be in good spirits by the time they arrived at the building, and even before then. “Hey, everybody.” Kirishima started. They looked less surprised to see him than they were Izuku, so it was probably better for him to take the lead. “I have something important to say, so could you get everybody in here?”

Quickly, they complied, going up to rooms to get their friends, and, of course automatically excluding the dirty grape man from the conversation. A few minutes later, everyone was down and ready.

“Okay, this is going to sound crazy,” Understatement of the century. “But just listen for a minute.”

Chapter Text

Momo was put on edge since Kirishima came down talking to no one. She expected to have to deal with an irritated or depressed Kirishima, but not one that seemed completely fine. Even… happy.

Truthfully, she was more surprised seeing Kirishima like that than she was seeing her white, floral teacup suspended in midair. It wasn’t even an exaggeration. She had more guesses as to why it was floating than why Bakugou’s best friend would feel any spark of joy a week after he witnessed his death.

While she doubted the validity of the whole ‘prophet of a cult god’, there was at least one theory. It didn’t seem like he was in denial about any of it, and it was clear to anyone who bothered to glance his way that Bakugou was the person who meant the most to him in the world. Admiration and adoration filled his entire expression every time they were together. Enough that Bakugou couldn’t recognize it, since it was on him so often that he assumed it was his resting face. So, how could he be unaffected?

For half an hour, she pondered the question nagging at her. She poured over the evidence, wondering why Shouto went from too depressed to drag himself out of bed to bouncing around, going everywhere, hanging out with Midoriya, who was acting as expected. Not to mention Kaminari’s demeanour when entering the building, and Aizawa’s sudden disappearance after trying to take care of them for so long.

Though it was nearing the time that most of their class would normally go to sleep, every one of them were wide awake. They hadn’t received a full night’s rest in days. Momo would normally be worried, but she knew there was no other way it could go.

The only ones who had managed to sleep properly were Mina, Sero, Kyouka and Kaminari, which, again, were the least likely candidates to be well-rested. She assumed they were just staying in their rooms. Kyouka had come down earlier in the evening, but it was only to check to see if Kaminari had come by. They gave the detailed report, of course, as any good friend (wing woman) would do.

Later, Fumikage visited her, with his friend and ‘fellow follower of the darkness’, Kuroiro Shihai, of class 1-B. If he wasn’t in a relationship with Tsu, she was sure they’d be an item. Reclusive as she could be, she was influenced by Mina’s romantic ideals. They slowly approached her, as if they were afraid of scaring her away.

“This, this is the one Fumikage?” Kuroiro asked quietly to his companion. She felt like a piece of meat, objectified in a way she wasn’t used to.

“Indeed. Yaoyorozu,” He spoke so formally, as if she were a god, or at least something close to it. “You are of great importance to our god.” … What? “The tea you made, it was the first thing he tasted in the mortal plane.” He stated with such confidence she almost believed the foolishness coming out of his mouth. “Please, my dear friend, would you bestow upon me the knowledge of the tea making skills you possess? If it is of importance to the dark lord, so I must take up this great art.”

As silly as it was, she had always wanted to share her knowledge of tea with someone who’d appreciate and listen to it. Besides, she needed a distraction from her thoughts. “It’s tulsi tea. Not my favourite brew, but it has amazing properties. Does your… dark lord need to be healed?” Kuroiro nodded.

“Indeed. He has just arrived here, so he will need a recovery period. Is there healing properties in this magical tea of yours?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.

“I wouldn’t go as far as to call it magical, but it certainly is one-of-a-kind,” She responded, positively beaming. “Here, I’ll show you the basics of making it. Do either one of you know how to make tea? I’ll have no problems teaching you the method, I’ve done it many times before.”

Everyone gathered around as she remade the blend, Kuroiro and Fumikage especially, hanging onto her every word like a lifeline. The tea looked even better than the last time, boiled and stewed to perfection. She rushed before, more concerned with helping Kirishima quickly than making a proper tea. It seemed to be worth it, as the teacup incident brought them more gaiety than they had experienced in a long while.

By the time they had arrived at the end of the teapot, everyone seemed relaxed enough to sleep, and several headed off to their dorm rooms, or their partner’s. They turned a blind eye, out of the respect they held for their classmate’s dignity.

That is, until Kirishima and Izuku walked in, looking like they had just adopted a puppy. Izuku was far more surprising to see than Kirishima. While he had been seen less than an hour ago, Izuku hadn’t been spotted by anyone other than while he was sleeping, which hardly counted.

By the time they fully entered the common room, with everyone staring directly at them, they got incredibly awkward. Kirishima spoke up first. “Hey, everybody. I have something important to say, so could you get everybody in here?” Quickly, out of curiosity probably, everybody stirred to fetch the rest of 1-A, obviously excluding one person in particular. Of course, she went upstairs, as the others did.

On the third floor, in the section no one else had been in, she faltered on the doorstep. Kyouka had been extremely upset, and hadn’t spoken to anyone unless she had to. She had been one of the ones who had hit the hardest. She and… well, they were very close friends, and they were one of the few people the other would voluntarily socialize with. Notwithstanding, she knocked, however hesitantly. “Kyouka, honey?” She called out lovingly. “Could you come out, please?”

“I’m bisexual, mom.” She called out, sounding exhausted. Momo chuckled softly at her response, which was always the same. Her motherly nature had always amused Kyouka, and she always made a fuss of calling her mom. Unless she was in public, in which case, people called it a ‘kink’, whatever that meant.

“Sweetie, please, Kirishima and Izuku are here, they want to talk to everyone.” She explained, hoping to persuade her. As much as she didn’t want to pressure her best friend, whatever they were discussing sounded important.

“Eijirou’s here?” She said in a hushed voice, the question clearly intended to be purely rhetorical. After a beat, she opened her door. She didn’t expect it to be that easy, but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “What happened? I thought that he wasn’t around? Izuku too, no one’s seen him lately, isn’t that right?” Due to her self-isolation, she had missed a lot.

“They were both in the common room earlier today. Let’s go find out what’s been happening with them, alright?” She suggested tentatively.

“Alright.” They walked down together as the last people to gather at the meeting. She didn’t expect it would be so easy to get everyone down, especially Sero and Mina, who had barely been holding it together, clear to anyone who bothered to look.

Izuku and Kirishima both rose from their chairs. “Okay, this is going to sound crazy, But just listen for a minute.” The green-haired boy started.

Oh, how crazy a story it would be.

---

Eijirou didn’t know what Midoriya planned on saying, but he seemed to want to take the lead. “So, uh, how to start…” he deliberated. Well, then again, maybe not. I mean, he did say to go in without a plan, but he could’ve at least prepared a speech of sorts on the walk to Height’s Alliance, or not started the conversation before either of them were ready.

Across the room, Denki’s arm shot up in the air eagerly. “Uh, yes, Denki?” Eijirou responded, exasperated.

“Uh, um, you asked where to start, and I know how to answer. This is about Bakugou, right? I can start, I can start!” He exclaimed enthusiastically. Huh, he hadn’t even considered using Denki to tell the story. He was always so amazing at capturing people’s attention and enrapturing them with his retelling, knowing exactly how not to bore people, due to his experience with ADHD.

“Yeah, it’s about Katsuki.” Midoriya responded, glad to have a fallback.

“Oh, it is?” Mina asked, leaning forward a little. “Wait, wait, then can I tell?” As adept as she was at telling stories, she couldn’t. What did she know about Katsuki’s story?

“No, I can do it, Mina!” Both Denki and Hanta shouted in response.

“Can you?” Eijirou asked, well and truly baffled. Did everyone already know? Was there even a point to that meeting? At that, Denki shrunk into himself, looking genuinely guilty about… something. “Denki, what’s going on?” He prodded.

“I kind of… told them both?” Seriously, he couldn’t of, like, filled them in? At his annoyed expression, Denki looked even more ashamed, tucking himself into an even tighter ball. “Sorry, it was just… really big news! I was only going to tell Mina, but she was in Sero’s room, and things escalated. I just needed to get it out, that’s all, I’m sorry!” He defended himself desperately.

“Hey, hey,” He coaxed gently. When he felt bad, Denki got really sensitive. He already looked on the verge of tears. “It’s alright. We’re telling everybody now anyway. You just saved us the trouble of explaining it to another two people,” He comforted. “Not to mention, you’re all great story tellers.”

That small encouragement was enough to set them all off. “Okay, well, hard part first.” Hanta suggested. “Bakugou’s a ghost.”

Katsuki had remained fairly quiet throughout the walk and the beginning of the meeting, which was unusual, but boy, staying quiet at that was not an option for him. “That quickly? Jesus Fuck, even I’m more tactful than that.” He exclaimed, frustrated. He had to disagree though, it was easier to get it out of the way, instead of building up the tension just for disbelief. They’d handle that before going on.

Though, despite what he thought would happen, he was not met with disbelief. Instead, a muttering of realization came from their fellow classmates. “Seriously?” Eijirou questioned loudly. “What is it with people and being easy to convince them about the impossible?”

“It’s like I’ve been saying for years,” Katsuki started. “They’re all idiots.” He concluded with surety. Honestly, Eijirou was beginning to believe him.

“I already knew.” Shouji commented. Another one? It didn’t seem like Denki’s work, and since he was shouting with Shinsou on the same floor as him, with super hearing as another bonus, it only made sense that he listened in, accidentally or not. Although, Shouji claimed never using his quirk to eavesdrop.

Yaomomo chimed in. “I’m not surprised. I was considering the options, and it’s the only plausible theory, really.” Of course, she was part of the few who had a proper reason for believing them.

“Well, the ‘dark lord has risen’ cultist shit explanation for the weird, floating teacup thing didn’t really work for me.” Another added. The majority of the class murmured in agreement. At that, many (Only the remaining members of the Bakusquad) seemed confused.

“Floating teacup incident? How much did I miss up there?” Jirou whined, perplexed and frustrated. Yaomomo patted her gently on the back, promising to fill her in at a later time, like the mother she was. Denki, Mina and Hanta deflated where they were once so eager and bright. Jirou snickered. “Sorry dudes, guess you won’t be telling any stories. They don’t seem to need it.” As awesome and manly as she was, she could be a bit of a dick. Maybe that was the reason why Katsuki and Jirou got along so splendidly.

“Not true.” Midoriya finally decided to speak again. “We need someone to give them the details.” They cheered, and the class sat back for story time.

Chapter Text

An hour. A fucking hour. That’s how long it took for the idiots to fill everyone in on the situation. Dunce Face was only aware of his presence since that afternoon, and it wasn’t like they had the time to tell him everything that had happened, and the other two hadn’t even seen Eijirou or him since the whole mess had started, so how could they draw it out for so long?

It’s not even that he was exaggerating about the time, oh, you better believe he had been staring at the clock, hoping desperately for this odd form of torture to end. The worst part was that no one else seemed to notice or care. What was wrong with them? What was the level of their tolerance for boredom? Katsuki couldn’t believe that they had been entirely enraptured the whole time. Were they humouring them? If so, there were other ways of doing that which weren’t so mind-numbingly dull

Seriously, even Eijirou, who had been especially irritable at that time, was just smiling away, enjoying their insufferable antics. Had everyone lost their senses? Katsuki was getting restless and emotional. He needed to soothe himself.

Soothe… “Hey, Eijirou?” He murmured. He hadn’t looked Katsuki’s way for a while, so he probably forgot that he was still around, so he didn’t want to frighten him by immediately speaking loudly. That was probably stupid and weird, but he didn’t want to make him jumpy, after all, he hadn’t looked so relaxed in a while, and he didn’t want to interrupt that in any way, no matter how insignificant. Eijirou only hummed in response.

“Could you ask Yaoyorozu something for me?” He asked half-heartedly. He loathed asking for help, especially while he had to get Shitty Hair to translate every word for him. But, he was way too restless and bothered. He had no idea why. It happened every so often that he would just get frustrated and unnecessarily emotional to the point of crying without explanation, and he was getting dangerously close to that point, and he really didn’t feel like articulating or justifying why he was having a breakdown to the already testy redhead. To remedy his unbridled emotions, he needed Yaoyorozu.

“Uh, sure. What do you need me to ask?” God, he was so thoughtful, although he was visibly taken aback. It made sense, of course. Neither of them expected him to ask for anything from anyone other than Eijirou himself.

Despite his surprise, he was already walking over to her. She greeted him, and Eijirou looked to him expectantly. “Could you, er, ask her to, uh…?” A sudden wave of embarrassment washed over him. The stupidity of what he was asking for was overwhelming, and he didn’t know if it was worth it anymore. But, he didn’t want to leave Eijirou hanging. “Brew some tea?” He shrunk into himself after making the request.

After Eijirou translated for her, she let out a soft chuckle. Okay, she was laughing at him, it was time to leave. “Of course!” Huh? “I’m so glad that he asked. I’ve been quite restless, and I need something to do with myself. How delightful. Odd though, considering he hasn’t put in a request for my tea before.” Gods, she was so goddamn sweet. If only he liked girls, man, she would easily be on top of his list. Oh yeah, and she was pretty damn attractive, that doesn’t hurt either. “What kind? More tulsi tea?” She laughed at that. “You seemed to enjoy that one in particular.”

“Lemon balm?” He suggested. Not only was it delicious, at least to his standards, with its citrus-y and slightly minty taste, but it had plenty of helpful properties, such as relaxation that eases anxieties and anger, and helps to treat insomnia. While he couldn’t sleep, it would definitely chill him out, something he desperately needed. Eijirou relayed his request, and she beamed.

Pouncing out of her seat she moved back into the kitchen, where there was an empty box; probably another tea blend. She quickly picked out the necessary ingredients, like it was second nature for her. Instead of a pre-packaged tea, she was making it from scratch. He didn’t doubt her skills, but it was definitely riskier. But, watching her use the jar she had been storing with more confidence in her actions than she had in a fight, any uncertainties he had vanished.

Unfortunately, his intense frustration didn’t disappear so easily. He was struggling to contain the tears of anger brimming in his eyes. Thankfully, Eijirou didn’t notice. He just wanted to go to his room and scream, but with the spotlight pointed right at him, that wasn’t in the cards.

“Finished!” She announced right before the dam broke and Katsuki’s hypersensitivity overtook him. She looked unsure, before speaking with Eijirou for whatever reason. At that point, he was digging his fingernails into his arms to keep it together. He laughed uproariously, and pointed directly at Katsuki. Like he needed even more attention on him. Then he realized why she had been so confused. She couldn’t FUCKING see him, so she had to ask Eijirou, the only person that could help her. It pissed him off even more. He just wanted things to go back to normal.

Suddenly, his stupid brain decided it was a good time to stop fighting, and he started sobbing. Of course, things could never go his way, and Eijirou saw him. The look on his face could only be described as ‘Oh fuck, mom instincts, activate!’. He’d only seen that look on Yaoyorozu before, as she was nominated class mother, but she couldn't help him at the moment.

Rushing out an excuse to the woman next to him, he scrambled over to Katsuki. Before he could get a word in, Katsuki tried to put an end to it. “I’m fine Shitty Hair.” He futilely attempted to brush it off.

Looking around, Eijirou spoke in a hushed voice. “We’ll go to your room, but we’re talking about this. Exactly what he didn’t want. He didn’t even need it! As comforting as it was to know Eijirou had his back at that moment, he didn’t need to coddle him over every little thing, especially when he explicitly dismissed it. Katsuki ventured to shut it down, but he just wasn’t having it.

“You’re clearly upset, I’m at least going to get you out of here.” He stated plainly. As he tried to protest again, his voice got watery and broke, making him feel even weaker than crying did, and that was saying a lot. Besides, he really did want to leave. So, as promised, they left. Though it had barely even been two hours, he was already missing his bedroom. That time, maybe he could actually interact with the bed. “I’ll take the teapot with us.” Okay, never mind Yaoyorozu, Eijirou was actually an angel.

“Whatever.” As Eijirou very well knew, that was Katsuki for ‘thanks, you’re the best, I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

Again, Eijirou was panting after his trip up the stairs. “You are seriously out of shape.” He teased playfully. Truthfully, he was actually worried about the state his friend was in. Normally, he would be energetic as hell, but he was looking more and more weary. So, he entered serious mode. “Dude, if you need a day, I can-”

“No, you are not getting away from this, we’re talking about you and your state, Katsuki.” He interrupted threateningly. He was being sincere, but with his tone, there was no room for argument.

All of a sudden, they were on his bed, preparing for a meaningful conversation. The motherly look in his eyes screamed; ‘don’t try to play his off as nothing’. Not that it would’ve worked for him anyway, since he still had tears running down his face. “So, I’m not sad or anything,” Annoyance of an almost comical degree made its way to Eijirou’s face. “What I mean is, I’m angry.” The annoyance dissipated, thankfully. “It isn’t for any reason, really. It just sometimes happens, and I don’t get why. Just got really extreme, that’s all.”

For the first time… well, ever, Eijirou looked thoughtful and sat in silence. In the quiet, Katsuki decided to take his first sip of the lemon balm tea. The flavours exploded on his tongue. It was even better than the store bought shit. He chugged it like a keg, already pouring the next cup, ignoring the fact that it hadn’t cooled down.

“It’s a PTSD symptom.” Katsuki lost his focus due to his sudden talking, and the teacup dropped, while the tea he had wanted to swallow refused to stay in him.

What the hell was he talking about?

---

“Shit. You could’ve warned me! Good thing I wasn’t holding the teapot, or else I would’ve lost it all. Did you see how hard she worked to make this?” He exclaimed with a burning fury, his previous wavering voice and watering eyes replaced by his normal, sharp anger. Then he processed what Eijirou had said. “What’s a PTSD symptom?”

“Well, it’s common with victims to be in a constant state of fight-or-flight,” Katsuki flinched at the use of the word ‘victim’. They had talked about it before in class, and he had told them how it made people sound pathetic and weak. Uraraka held a grudge against him for saying it, considering how actively she defended victims like Katsuki, but now he understood why, and he really didn’t want to, if he was being honest. But, despite his friend’s reaction, he pressed forward. “Which can cause one of two reactions; fear or anger.” He rattled off.

“You sound like your reciting from a textbook, but, that can’t be it. As your tutor, I am all too aware that you have never once retained any information from a textbook.” He deflected with insults, as he usually did. But, it was clearly half-hearted. Katsuki always encouraged him not to worry that he couldn’t remember textbook information, as everyone learned differently, even going as far as to change his teaching style for every individual he tutored.

“Not a textbook, it was auditory, which is why I remember. Remember that class, when Aizawa was talking about PTSD symptoms, specifically how to recognize it in children or adolescents, and in some cases, that would be unexplained irritability.” He parroted their teacher.

“Oh, yeah, I guess. I wasn’t really… all there for the lesson. I was a bit zoned out, I guess.” Eijirou knew that one!

“That’s dissociation.”

“Huh. I never really though about it that way. I thought I just couldn’t listen properly.” He said, looking like he was genuinely considering Eijirou’s words, an odd phenomenon he was steadily growing more and more used to. He was worried that dissecting all of Katsuki’s symptoms would make him feel like he was crazy, or that he was being treated like a psychology test subject, but maybe giving what he was feeling a name and reason made him feel better, or at least less alone.

Focusing again, he took another sip of Yaoyorozu’s (apparently well-made) tea, chugging it, followed by immediately refilling. If he still needed to use the bathroom, his bladder would be at risk. “Go easy with that tea, hey?” He requested jokingly.

Instantly, his face went from contemplative to undiluted panic, and Eijirou realized his mistake. Although they had their differences, Neither Todoroki nor Katsuki knew how to recognize what was clearly intended to be teasing. He started apologizing and stopped drinking it abruptly. “Woah, I was kidding, you can have as much of it as you want.” He coaxed. He hoped that was the root of the problem, or else he wouldn’t have any idea how to go about rectifying his mistake. Fortunately, Katsuki calmed down at that, but he still looked guilty.

“I just meant, it’s probably still hot, and I know you don’t know if you can feel pain, but I don’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself.” He explained in a rant.

“I’m okay, just calm down.” Why was he asking him to calm down. He stood up, feeling the sudden need to pace, and collapsed.

Chapter Text

Izuku was amused by the antics of Kacchan’s friend group, lunging at each other and interrupting left and right to tell the story. Whether they were doing it for attention or because they thought the story was cool wasn’t clear, but either way, it was entertaining.

Keeping it upbeat through the obviously miserable situation was what they did best, and it left everyone who had been upset and crying upbeat once again. He felt awful for ignoring what they felt just because Izuku couldn’t bear to see them before. Not just because he didn’t want to burden them with his depression, but because they would probably end up worsening it. It was selfish to avoid them just because they were almost as upset as him, but Izuku really couldn’t deal with their emotions as well as his.

But, knowing Kacchan was still around, even if not technically alive, made him feel more emotional than usual, and none of it was sadness. He needed to share all of his feelings, which meant talking to Tenya and Ochako. He wanted to go over to them right then, but the two were preoccupied.

Both were listening to the three Bakusquad members on the floor recount tales that two hadn’t even participated in. It was for the best, since they both needed to be filled in. As a matter of fact, so did Izuku. Kaminari had actually known for longer than he had, so he probably knew things that he didn’t. But, he’d also have to fill them in, as he hadn’t been present for the recruitment of Hitoshi and Aizawa.

“-Something called ‘wand de-he-since’-”

“It’s called ‘wound dehiscence’, Denki. When the sutures don’t heal properly or something like that. I wasn’t really listening, but Katsuki knows a ton about it. What is it again?” He asked the invisible man. “It’s a condition where a cut made during a surgical procedure separates or ruptures after it has been stitched back together.” Kirishima was clearly parroting Kacchan. He was surprised that Kacchan knew so much about something that specific.

He was aware that Kacchan would get of injuries from fights, but with his parents’ amount of money, they wouldn’t get a doctor bad enough for his wound to get infected. Then again, they also could’ve bought him into a better quality middle school, but they didn’t. Maybe it was to build his independence? Still, sounded like a pretty screwed up way to do that.

“Woah, how much does he know about that?” Asked Ochako, clearly impressed about his knowledge instead of worried, as she usually was when it came to him.

Needless to say, Ochako was always well-meaning, but she seemed to assume that Kacchan was invulnerable, emotionally and physically, especially after her defeat at the sports festival, and as much as it flattered him, it also meant that she thought she couldn’t hurt him with her words or attacks, and never worried about him when she needed to. She was left clueless to his weaknesses. He was surprised she didn’t get a wake-up call after his death. He clearly wasn’t invincible.

Though most missed it, he clearly heard Kirishima ask him in a low tone, and turned away, looking disappointed. Whatever the answer was, Kacchan clearly didn’t want them to know. Shrugging, he simply replied with ‘he doesn’t remember’, and didn’t talk for the rest of the story time.

Although as time passed Kirishima slowly turned more relaxed and happy, he still had a worried look about him Izuku wanted to help, but it wasn’t like he was a leading expert on getting Kacchan to open up, in fact, he placed at the second lowest spot. He knew a lot about his weaknesses, sure, but that was just because he happened to appear at his lowest points. Out of anyone, Kirishima placed at the top of that list, so if he didn’t tell him, Izuku severely doubted that he could do anything about it, as much as he wanted to. So, he did what he hated the most, and let it be.

But, Midoriya Izuku wasn’t one to let something go so easily, as everyone already knew.

So, what if he listened intently to what Kirishima was saying to Kacchan? It was only out of concern for his friend, okay? (And MAYBE Kacchan wasn’t wrong about calling him an obsessed stalker. He didn’t mean to do it in a creepy way, but how could you take detailed notes of someone and listen in on them without being creepy? I’ll wait.)

“Uh, sure. What do you need me to ask?” Ask? ‘What do you need me to ask?’ Kacchan never ever EVER accepted help, not even in his most dire moments. Even when he was crippled, he only let Izuku support him to get out of a crumbling building by making him act like a cane. He only went into the nurse's office when he was either dying or unconscious, which were not at all by choice. Worrisome as that would be on its own, initiating a call for help? Yeah, Kacchan had gone insane, and he needed to aid in any way possible.

Hard as it was to determine what the conversation was actually about, with enough listening skills, he could figure it out, he was sure of it. After a while, he figured out that he was walking over to Momo. Why would he ask for her specifically? It wasn’t like hey had a significant bond, at least not like the one he had developed with the Bakusquad, or in the process of developing with some of the others. This must’ve been serious.

Kirishima looked lost, so he must’ve been as in the dark as Izuku was, only being led by his instructions. Despite not understanding, he complied without questioning him. It was touching to see how much faith he had in Kacchan. They really deserved each other. “Could you do something for Katsuki?” He asked. As expected, she nodded.

“What is it?” She asked quietly. He paused, looking expectantly at Kacchan. The moment of truth. What was going on? What dire, possibly (probably) deadly problem did he need the smartest person in the class to solve? Could Izuku even help?

Well, even if he couldn’t, he’d sure as hell try. That was just the kind of person he was. “Oh.” What? His reaction to Katsuki’s earth-shattering problem was that indifferent? Had he built it up so much in his head that he was completely neutral towards the actual predicament? “Could you please brew him some tea?” He asked politely.

Oh.

Wow.

Maybe, just MAYBE, he was being over-protective of his recently deceased friend. Momo laughed, responding quickly and very positively. “Of course! I’m so glad that he asked. I’ve been quite restless, and I need something to do with myself. How delightful. Odd though, considering he hasn’t put in a request for my tea before.” She started asking him questions about the type of tea he’d prefer, which ended up being lemon balm.

Wasn’t that a type of chapstick? God, he had no idea about whatever she was ranting about. Just give him an Earl Grey and he’d consider it overly fancy. He had no idea how he could communicate with Gentle Criminal, as all his metaphors included tea.

All he needed was a nice, long distraction, and maybe he’d come to his senses and not follow around his friend, who was clearly doing just fine.

He had no idea what to use as a distraction after the story had finished. Maybe he’d tell everyone about the investigation with Tsukauchi? No, they were already processing the huge info dump about Kacchan; the last thing he needed was to add more stress on their burdened shoulders. Shouto was preoccupied and emotionally exhausted, and he had already been leeching his time away, so what were his other options.

“MIDORIYA!” Tenya exclaimed from the other side of the room, his enthusiasm returned to normal, and the formality of continuing to use his family name oh so familiar.

“Deku,” Ochako had a calmer approach than her boyfriend, but was obviously containing her excitement, and using his hero name as usual. It was comforting to know that through the chaos, some things would end up remaining the same.

Oh, right. They probably wouldn’t mind hanging out with him while he cooled down from his revelation.

After all, hey were always there for him.

---

Ochako and Tenya had been containing themselves for an entire week.

They knew Midoriya needed a support system, but there were so many reasons they couldn’t be part of that system at that time.

Firstly, they weren’t in good enough mental states themselves to help another human being, especially one suffering even more than they were. He was actively avoiding them and everyone else in his deep state of obvious depression, and the falling asleep in the common room was clearly a fluke, and he left almost immediately after waking up. Todoroki was trying to help him, and it seemed to be working much better than the effect they could have on him.

Though as class president and a person who tried not to make assumptions about people like he’d done in the past, he suspected that he and Todoroki had… something. Not necessarily romantic (it was probably romantic), but something more than he had with anyone else, other than possibly Bakugou. But, if that was a thing, it was blindingly obvious that it was one-sided.

As happy as he was that Midoriya had found someone special and close to him like he deserved, he couldn’t help but feel jealous that he could be there for his best friend when he himself couldn’t, as selfish as it was.

Same as always, he told Ochako about his feelings, and she confessed she was feeling similarly, which alleviated his worries about a lot, and allowed them to brainstorm possible solutions. Even with both of their heads together, there were no easy options, as there so rarely were.

Or, at least, that’s what they thought. Fortunately, he came back from what looked to be a very long day, but appeared perfectly happy, in a way that he hadn’t seen for what felt like a century, and happiness and relief flooded him. He didn’t need Kirishima to tell them to get everyone down, as he was already well on his way to fetch Ochako from his dorm. Oh, don’t get the wrong idea, she wasn’t there for anything scandalous! They had barely crossed past chaste kisses. She simply had to study his notes since they had to go back to school soon. She (literally) couldn’t afford to lose her scholarship, even after everything.

Though, he really wished she’d take it easier. He had offered to pay for her tuition many times, so she wouldn’t have to feel like she was under so much pressure all the time, but she refused, insisting that she needed to work hard to stay in UA, and she might start slipping without that burden on her shoulders. He vehemently disagreed, stating that she was always determined, with or without risk, but it had no effect.

Even if they were going back to school, he doubted the school would fail any of them after losing their friend, yet she studied. Maybe it was to distract herself; maybe she needed it. No matter the reason, he was all too happy interrupting her study session.

After hearing what Kaminari, Sero and Ashido had to say, he didn’t regret it in the slightest. Thankfully, neither did Ochako. “Wow, kind of unbelievable, huh?” She asked him with liveliness.

“You don’t believe them?”

“I do, but I just meant that it’s totally supernatural!” She exclaimed jovially. “It made sense after the whole floating teacup thing. I had no idea that Bakugou liked tea that much. Should we make some for him? No, I’m not that great at making it. Oh, oh, you can make a killer chamomile, like from our first date. Does he like chamomile? He doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy calming teas. Can you make any other good teas?” As amazing as she was, you could NOT be Ochako’s boyfriend if you weren’t a patient and good listener.

“Green tea is always a good choice, but I doubt my tea is up to his standards. I mean, this isn’t the first batch of tea we’ve made since the beginning of this week. It can’t be a coincidence that he only drank the blend made by the vice representative, the tea enthusiast.” He noted.

“Good point. Hey… Tenya?” Her voice became much more timid, which was very unlike the spirited girl he knew. He hummed in response, inviting her possibly upsetting question. “Should we talk to Deku?”

Honestly, that had been the only thing on his mind since they came down together. “I am unsure. Maybe we should check on him?” After seeing Midoriya’s lost expression by the kitchen, he began walking in his direction. He cleared his throat, and bent his arms at exactly 90 degrees. “MIDORIYA!” He called, making Ochako do her odd, unexplainable laugh he first heard at the hero vs. villain activity in their first year. She found many normal things he did funny, for some reason.

“Deku,” She called much more softly.

“Guys! I’m glad to see you two.” He’d take that as an invitation.

Chapter Text

Ochako was overjoyed that Tenya agreed to see Deku, and even more pleased seeing Deku look ecstatic to see them. Maybe it was an emotional mask; a smile to hide the pain, but she was just glad to see his bright, lively smile.

After their second year, she had gotten over her crush on Deku, as it was very obviously unrequited, and had even admitted her past feelings to both Deku and Tenya, both of which had taken it surprisingly well, but, clearly, she continued to harbour strong feelings toward the boy, if only platonic. All she wanted was to see him happy.

Considering the gravity (pun intended) of the situation, it might’ve been too much to ask for any hint of joy to appear, but it appeared like a miracle had been granted, and she would try to maintain that lighthearted, uncaring smile to the best of her abilities. Tenya seemed to have the same idea as he rushed over at a ridiculous speed (No, he did not use his quirk, it’s cardiovascular conditioning, bitches), near-yelling all the while.

Clearly, she was terribly worried about Deku too, but Tenya had scared her even worse, progressively getting more terrifying throughout the past four days. All his usual pep and energy were drained completely, leaving him completely apathetic. It was beyond hard to get him engaged in any of the things that he loved, and he only ever talked when they were sharing their worries, which she almost refused to do out of a desire to keep things somewhat upbeat during the toughest times, but she just wanted to hear his voice, selfish as it was.

Seeing him excited about something was a huge weight off her shoulders. She considered sending him to the free therapy that UA had offered them, but he was hardly moving, and wasn’t acknowledging the awful state he was in, so he probably wasn’t ready. But, maybe after talking to Deku, they could have a proper conversation about it.

Hopefully, he’d agree to accept the therapist’s help. Maybe they could go together. That’s how they did their best work, after all. Plus, she had stuff she needed to work through too. It sounded like a good idea to her! All she could wish was that Tenya would feel the same way.

The second Tenya got within arm’s reach of Deku, the latter jumped up nearly eight feet to embrace the taller boy. To be able to stay there without unnecessary strain to Tenya’s neck, he wrapped his legs around his waist, his arms around his upper back, like a koala clinging to a eucalyptus tree. Tenya nearly fell over in surprise, but was, thankfully, able to regain his balance so neither of them would get injured. What a quick thinker. He looked like he internally aged thirty years at that moment. “Midoriya?!” He exclaimed in concern.

Still not removing himself from her boyfriend’s torso, he replied. “I just missed you guys a lot. Sorry for not coming to you guys earlier, I just had… a lot going on.” He admitted, burying his face into Tenya’s chest like a shy child to their parent. His response broke Ochako’s heart. Obviously, he had been suffering, and he didn’t need an explanation as to why he didn’t talk with them. He had no obligation!

“Deku,” She started as he climbed back down her tree of a boyfriend. “You shouldn’t force yourself to be with us!” He opened his mouth to protest, but she shut him down quickly. “That came out wrong. What I mean is that you don’t have to feel bad for not being with us in bad moments. Of course, you should get us if you feel you’re in a dark place, but you should never feel pressured! We don’t want for you to feel like we’re demanding you to stay with us at all times.” She explained.

Instead of protesting, like she expected him to do, he nodded. She nearly gasped from surprise. He never backed down! “Thanks. I felt bad, but I’ve been dealing with… really bad mental health issues, and I REALLY couldn’t talk to most people.” He confessed sadly. She wanted to give the poor guy a hug. So she did.

Eventually, after three minutes of uncomfortable hugging, Tenya led them to the common room mattress for snuggle time; Midoriya easily fitting into the role of little spoon, Tenya awkwardly bending into the middle, and the shortest of the bunch putting her arms around both as the big spoon.

Ultimately, everyone saw them cuddling and joined in the pile, Tsu, making a jokingly offended that she wasn’t invited in the first place. To no one’s surprise, Denki was the littlest spoon, and Shouji was their big spoon guardian, and Mina was right after him.

It was too bad that Bakugou and Kirishima couldn’t join their moment of wholesomeness, after leaving to head to their rooms with a teapot for whatever reason. She would’ve loved to see where Kirishima was in the cuddle train, and possibly coax out of Bakugou where his ideal placement would be. Her bet was definitely on the big spoon. He wouldn’t settle for less. He’d have trouble manoeuvring his way into a comfortable position with Shouji laying in front of him. Still, adorable.

“So…” Kaminari started awkwardly. “What’s the occasion? Not that I’d mind cuddling with the class any day of the week, even if I am the little spoon.”

“Oh please, don’t pretend like you didn’t rush right to the spot.” Kyouka called him out.

Gasping dramatically, he denied her accusations. “I took the role that was clearly thrust upon me.” He claimed, lying through his teeth, like everyone didn’t already know the truth. Was he really oblivious enough to not pick up on that?

“I’ll take it if you don’t want it.” Kyouka and Deku offered synchronously.

Hissing, he refused by clawing at Kyouka behind him. He behaved like a cat when everyone knew he was a butterfly. They took a BuzzFeed quiz on it and everything! Finally, Deku answered his first question. “I haven’t seen any of my friends in almost a little over a week, so, naturally, I hugged them, and it escalated from there.” He gestured to the many children spooning each other.

“Makes sense. Hey, Midoriya? What’s your side of the story?” Kaminari asked.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well, you came back here with Kirishima, you obviously knew what was going on, but they didn’t mention you knowing back at the nurse’s office. What happened to you? Did he try beating you up or something? Heard that worked on Todoroki.” Wait, he did WHAT to Shouto?!

“HE BEAT UP SHOUTO? WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?” … Apparently, he was just as in the dark as her. “I just found out like…” He looked at his watch. “Hoo, okay, about two hours or so ago.” What? There was no way he had the time to properly process since then. How was he so calm? It was admirable, sure, but he just found out his best friend who had just died, which he was witness to, was a ghost. He couldn’t recover from that in a week, much less two hours!

Suddenly, an indescribable expression crossed over his face. “I just realized… I haven’t told you guys yet.” What? “Jeez, how could I have forgotten something so important?” Way to build the tension. “I need to tell you where Aizawa and Shinsou are.”

---

Izuku felt like an idiot. How could he have forgotten about what was clearly the most important conversation topic? He was even thinking about it just moments earlier. Had he really gotten that sidetracked? Even more guilt was shovelled onto his already burdened heart. “I need to tell you where Aizawa and Shinsou are.” The class went dead silent.

They were never quiet. Were they really that interested in what had happened? No, there must’ve been some sort of miscommunication. It was, to no one’s surprise, Kaminari who broke the tense silence. “Are they… dead?” His voice sounded horrified, and for good reason. What. The. Actual. FUCK? Did he really think Izuku would just casually forget to tell the class that they had just lost another student and teacher? It wasn’t like forgetting to buy milk, they were talking about human lives. Was Kaminari really that dense?

Apparently, his shocked silence did not go over well. “OH MY GOD, THEY ARE DEAD.” The students shouted; the cuddle line quickly dispersing. Did EVERYONE think they were dead? What did they take him for?

“Guys, what the hell is wrong with you?” He asked, genuinely concerned they had some sort of brain damage. “They’re not dead. Do you think that would just, slip my mind? Whoopsies, forgot to tell you, our local insomniacs are dead with no prior warning or mention, and Kirishima, Kacchan and I, who all must’ve witnessed the accident were completely unaffected.” They looked taken aback at his open sarcasm.

“Oh. Well, that’s great Midoriya.” Ojirou said, relieved.

“Did you have to scare us like that?” Kaminari asked, exasperated. Like it was his fault they misconstrued what he said. He never even so much as implied they were dead. He was being causal about it and everything! Could they really blame him? He was reconsidering telling them anything.

“As I was about to say,” He started through gritted teeth, deciding to put his personal feelings aside for the moment. “Shouto approached them, asking if they would interrogate Otsuka Sumi.” They looked confused. Izuku didn’t know why until he realized that they weren’t familiar with who she was. He only remembered from the briefing before the infiltration of their headquarters. It was going to be a longer conversation than he had hoped for. “She’s the woman who…” He couldn’t bring himself to look normal. Any semblance of ‘normal’ was officially lost on him.

Tears began rolling down his cheeks, and he struggled to keep himself from dropping to the ground. He tried to form the words necessary out of him, but he found that they didn’t want to come out, much like his best friend at ten years old. “Who ki-killed” He gasped and sobbed, trying to force the words from his throat. “Who killed Kacchan!” The words finally managed to escape.

Suddenly, he wanted to tell them even less than he had before. He couldn’t deal with it, and more importantly, he wasn’t sure that the others could. He really didn’t want to be the reason for their mental breakdowns. Nevertheless, once the floodgates had opened, he couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his goddamned mouth. “They managed to arrest her, but she hasn’t said anything, and it might be our only chance at getting Kacchan back, but it could put Hitoshi in danger, ‘cause he… he…” He finally stopped himself from continuing his emotional rant, if only because he simply ran out of emotional energy. His supply had finally been drained.

Not that he had much to spend anyway. The intense mood swings from relieved and overjoyed, to anxious, to irrational irritation, and finally to overwhelming sadness, guilt and grief didn’t help with trying to ration out his emotional energy either.

“Okay, I think you need to sit down for a minute.” Ochako commented through the tense silence, pulling him back to the mattress. He didn’t have the energy to fight or properly cooperate with her. All he wanted was to curl into a ball and sleep. “Deku?” But those plans were a bit too farfetched after the heap of information he just dumped on them.

“Hitoshi is going to trick Otsuka into talking, so he can brainwash them, and tell us how to save Kacchan, if we can at all. Shouto thinks her quirk made him a ghost, and we have a chance of saving him if she tells us how it works.” Words were easier when he was too drained to feel the motional backlash of what he was saying and not worrying whether he sounded too pessimistic; though his friends would most certainly feel the repercussions of his words.

“Oh…” Even Tenya didn’t know how to respond to Izuku’s extra bluntness. “That’s… good. Right?” He shrugged. From what Aizawa was saying, they probably couldn’t do anything, but it was the only shot they had.

“Is there anything else you’d like to add?” Asked a ridiculously gentle voice that he couldn’t quite pin.

“Gonna sleep.” He said, sounding more exhausted than all the times he felt the effects of Recovery Girl’s quirk combined.

So, obviously, he slept. Better than he had in a week, actually, and that was including the depression ‘nap’, drugged-out, near-comatose state he had been in the last sleep he had. Finally, something nice happened.

Chapter Text

Turns out, for all his planning, sorting out the logistics of asking for an interview with a murderer was more difficult than Shouto had originally thought. There were so, SO many factors to take into consideration.

Would Tsukauchi say yes? That was the main and obvious one, but there were so many variables to change that response. Would appearing more or less emotionally stable get him to agree? The simplest answer was being emotionally stable, so it wouldn’t endanger the prisoner or Aizawa and Shinsou themselves, but it couldn’t be simple. Looking to be completely broken could possibly gain them enough sympathy points for him to acquiesce. But was appealing to him with pathos the best option?

Brainstorming together, they decided to just wing it and be as genuine as possible with their emotions without telling him enough for Tsukauchi to think they were crazy. He didn’t lean particularly strongly to either feelings or logic, only whatever was that person’s truth. Fitting for his quirk.

Even considering that, there was a strong possibility he’d still deny their request. He was harsher than any detective when it came to rules and proper procedure. He may have a differing sense of justice than what the rules dictated from time to time, but he had an unfailing belief in their justice system, as screwed as it actually was. What could they do to get him to agree to let a minor and another man with no jurisdiction in to interrogate a murderer which they both had an emotional attachment to? But, after a few minutes to collect his thoughts, Shouto had a response.

Recalling the police files on her reminded him that she hadn’t talked. If they could convince him they could get her to talk, maybe he would allow them. He may have been a stickler for the rules, but he was dedicated to his work, and would certainly do most anything to get a clearly guilty criminal to confess.

Besides, it wasn’t even a lie or against the law. Shinsou had received his provisional licence months before, so he could use his quirk without severe consequences, especially if it brought a criminal to justice.

Still not good enough. They needed a plan C if he declined them. How to sneak in and interrogate her anyway without being caught or interrupted. Should it have been their primary plan? After all, the minute they alerted the stern detective, he’d have his guard up and probably put up extra security measures on Otsuka if he had an inkling that she was being targeted by Eraserhead of all people. He knew better than anyone not to piss him off.

Possibly, he was already so afraid of him that he boosted security preemptively. If so, would either approach work? If he rejected them, Would Aizawa give up, or would he keep going, risking his job to talk to her? Which would end up being worse? Shouto couldn’t deal with all of it after the day he had, but he needed to power through.

“Kid, you look exhausted.” He really had to notice everything, didn’t he? Clearing his eyes of the blur that began to overtake them, Shouto denied the claim vehemently. An obvious lie. “We can take care of it from here. You helped a lot though, Shouto.” Complete crap.

“What crap.” He protested through gritted teeth. Aizawa sighed, clearly exasperated. “I’ve done next to nothing. So, what if I’m tired? I bet Bakugou’s pretty damn tired too, but he’s not getting any rest. You know why? Because we’re not getting anywhere here!” He knew his irritation was unwarranted, but he needed to direct his frustration with himself somewhere else. “I’ve had enough goddamn rest. It’s about time I do something productive.” He finished with a slight hiss.

Aizawa’s aggravation was replaced with something else. He assumed it was rage, but was quickly proven wrong. “You don’t need to be mad at yourself for ‘not doing enough’. You’ve helped far more than you think you did. You spent two hours of research to find out everything about Otsuka, and succeeded. Just leave the police files, and we’ll sort it out. Okay?”

Unfortunately, he couldn’t find a coherent argument against him, so he just slammed the files down pettily and stomped out, face flushed with anger.

Though, as he stormed back to the dormitories, as that was the only other place he could think to go, he considered Aizawa’s words. He’d only known about Bakugou for just over a day, yet he’d already done extensive research on his killer, leading to him making a multi-stage plan on how to resurrect his ghostly friend, and informed everyone involved in said plan. He had done more than anyone else had combined. So, why did he feel responsible to do more? Why was he tearing himself apart to keep going when others had it handled?

Truthfully, he really needed some unwinding time. Before going to UA, he would’ve thought being alone was the best option, but he had discovered over the years that he was actually quite the extrovert. Sure, he didn’t behave like the typical extroverted person, but he loved hanging around people. It was how he recharged.

So, naturally, the first thing he thought to do was hang out with Izuku. Just hours before, he would’ve assumed that it was because he was clearly Shouto’s best friend, but with the realization that Shouto was, in reality, completely enamoured with him, the angry flush turned into another kind of redness. He felt ridiculous. Shouto didn’t exactly grow up with a healthy representation of love, and Natsuo refused to talk about his ‘girl’friend in their home, thus, he was completely clueless.

Was he supposed to constantly think about Izuku? Was that obsessive and creepy? Would talking to Izuku about it be considered socially abnormal? Normally, his first instinct would be to ask the freckled boy about it, but apparently you couldn’t talk as freely when you were boyfriends. At least, that was what the internet had told him. But it also said that each relationship was different. He decided to call Izuku and outright ask.

After three calls, he started to get worried. He was usually exceptional about answering his phone, as was Shouto. He tried not to panic and think rationally. Maybe he ran out of battery, or turned off his phone, like Shouto had done earlier while researching Otsuka. Maybe he left it by the gate while running from All Might. Plus, after not answering three calls, he was extremely unlikely to pick it up the fourth. Logically, he knew all of that. Yet, his fingers decided to betray his perfectly sound logic as he dialed Izuku’s number once more.

One ring… two rings… three ring- “Hello?” Holy shit, his fingers were geniuses. His voice sounded slightly off.

“Izuku, what happened? Never mind. Where are you right now? Are you still with the cat, or did you move since then? I want to talk with you about something.” He was rambling, he knew that, but he was just really on edge, and he needed to expel some of the confusing emotions consuming him.

“Oh, sorry, this isn’t Midoriya.” His breath hitched. He wasn’t good at identifying voices normally, but on the phone, it was even more difficult. He tried to think rationally, but fear overtook him. Was he kidnapped? Was it a threat? “It’s Iida. Apologies for not clarifying sooner Todoroki.” The rigidity dissipated, replaced with his usual indifference. “I had to answer for him.”

“Ah. Is he preoccupied with something?” There was no response. “Iida, what’s going on?” Anxiety gradually crept back up.

“Well, he passed out in the dorms-”

He hung up.

GodDAMMIT Izuku! Could he not wait another hour until worrying him again? Despite his annoyance, he took off to his original destination at triple the pace. He prayed his boyfriend was okay.

---

Everyone was in a panic about Midoriya passing out on the mattress, but tried to keep their fear quiet, as to not wake him up. But after Kaminari dropped his plate, and Midoriya remained undisturbed, they realized there was no waking him up, even if they wanted to. He was already tired-looking enough before vaguely explaining the situation with their classmate and homeroom teacher. Tenya felt awful for not intervening like Ochako did while his friend was clearly having a breakdown.

Deciding to try to make it up to him, he sat by him, making sure he was okay while everyone slowly returned to their respective rooms. There were hardly any people left, as even the insomniacs didn’t want to see Midoriya looking so defeated and exhausted. Only he, Ochako and Yaoyorozu were left.

While he could understand the reasons why Ochako would stay, he couldn’t explain the other woman’s presence. It wasn’t like her and Midoriya were particularly close. Actually, despite both being very friendly, neither had many close friends outside one friend group. Midoriya had the boyfriend and girlfriend pair, Todoroki and Asui, but didn’t really bond with anyone else other than Bakugou. He wasn’t even sure who Yaoyorozu’s friends were. They were only tangentially connected, and that was because she was voted as vice representative. Was she so nice that she was willing to hang around, worried about someone she barely interacted with?

Just ten minutes after almost everybody left, Midoriya’s phone started playing music. An American song, maybe? Ochako began humming along softly to the song, indicating that she had heard it before. Odd, considering she only listened to Japanese songs, since she loved their culture so much. The song shut off before the ending. Was it normal for cellphones to play clips of music randomly? He wasn’t technologically inclined enough to know the answer. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had used his phone.

Dismissing it, he went back to watching over Midoriya. But, another few seconds later, the song played again, not even continuing from the point it left off at, but restraining the whole thing. That was aggravating. Did his phone usually do that? As expected, it played once more, waiting even less time to replay than it did before. He was about to pick up his phone, stopping the source of the music, but decided against it.

After all, it would’ve been a huge invasion of his privacy to look at the device in which most adolescents stored nearly every single personal detail on. He may not have been great with boundaries, but he tried to respect his friend’s privacy unless it put him in danger. But, come on, after the damned thing played for the fourth time, he had to stop it.

As soon as he turned it over, he saw ‘Shouto <3’ on the screen. He wasn’t sure what he meant by less than three, but it was super adorable seeing that the label for Todoroki on his contacts was his given name. Was the song his ringtone? He didn’t hear it on the ‘default’ ringtones, so did he customize it? Was that even an option? Ochako looked at him expectantly. “It’s Todoroki calling him. Is this a ringtone that you know of, Ochako?” She laughed inexplicably once again.

“Oh my god, he actually used hot n’ cold!” She exclaimed.

“Hot n’ cold? Do you mean, like an English translation of Todoroki’s quirk?” She laughed even harder at his question.

“Just answer it.” She pleaded through gasps of air. Wasn’t that immoral? Even looking at his contact label felt like a betrayal of Midoriya’s trust. But, what if it was important. I mean, Todoroki was rarely so persistent with his calls. Something serious must’ve been happening!

However reluctantly, he answered the call. “Hello?” Cue the onslaught of questions. How worried did not answering make Todoroki? He felt guilty for not answering him sooner, even though he didn’t know it was a phone call. Tenya could hardly make out any of the words he was saying. How did Midoriya keep up with him? Although, he could make out a few keywords, such as ‘Izuku’, ‘what’ and ‘where’.

Okay, not the MOST useful of keywords, but it gave him enough to go on… ish. He assumed Tenya was actually Midoriya, he knew that much. The use of his given name surprised him, as they had never used it in front of the others. He’d of thought more about, but he didn’t want to make any unwarranted assumptions.

“Oh, sorry, this isn’t Midoriya.” There was a sudden difference in breathing patterns, signifying fear. As Todoroki didn’t outwardly express emotion, he had to learn to pick up on small details. To quell any worry, he quickly added on. “It’s Iida. Apologies for not clarifying sooner Todoroki. I had to answer for him.”

“Ah. Is he preoccupied with something?” His monotone returned. Probably. He still wasn’t an expert at reading his emotions. He was about to explain, but… did he really want to worry him? Midoriya didn’t outright say if he even knew about Bakugou’s situation. Sure, he mentioned that, for whatever reason, he beat him up, but would you really know if an invisible person was fighting you? “Iida, what’s going on?” Damn it, he took too long to answer. That wouldn’t be good for the other’s heart.

Hesitantly, he answered. “Well, he passed out in the dorms-” He was interrupted by a sudden ringing noise at the other end. As he looked at the phone, seeing only the screen’s electronic wallpaper. He hung up on him.

“Uh, Ochako?”

“Yeah?” She responded from the other room, most likely expecting a quick recap of the call.

“I think I screwed up.” He rarely swore like that, but he really didn’t say the right thing. Although, there’s really no good way to tell someone their best friend passed out, in his defence.

“What did you do?”

On the bright side of things, at least he wouldn’t have to hear that annoying song again. On the less bright side, he was screwed.

Chapter Text

Shouto had done a lot of walking, running and jogging to all sorts of different places that day, but he hadn’t gone quite as fast as he did while going back to the common room. He burst through the door with excessive force, startling the few remaining people in the common room.

“What the hell happened?!” He yelled, not bothering to keep his volume down for his classmates trying to sleep. Whatever, it wasn’t like most of them were actually sleeping or even attempting to anyway.

“Hey, Todoroki. So-”

“Cut the crap, Iida!” He exclaimed. Maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but he was worried about Izuku. I mean, they had been boyfriends for all an afternoon, and suddenly, he was inexplicably passed out on an uncomfortable-looking mattress. Iida took a step back, looking like he feared for his very life. If he was in any way responsible, then that fear was warranted. “What caused this? Is he injured, did someone-?”

Interrupting him with wild hand gestures, Iida answered him. “He’s fine, don’t worry.” Deescalating the situation was a futile attempt, but he pressed on. “He simply went off on a bit of a… rant… and it left him severely emotionally drained. That’s really all. He isn’t harmed, so don’t concern yourself too much. I’ve been watching over him, and nothing awful has occurred just yet.” He reported with a nervous chuckle that only increased the already quickly rising tension in the room. Shouto backed down.

An emotionally exhausting rant? Shouto himself was prone to those sorts of things, but Izuku hadn’t. Sure, he’d mutter on often enough, but it was never exhausting. In fact, he did it to expel his emotion, curiosity and ideas (usually hero-related ideas) in a healthy way, and the talking was just a side effect of the main priority. He had never heard him ramble in a way that harmed him.

Actually, the only thing he could talk about that Shouto believed would affect him like that would be… no. Did… did he actually tell them? It was so much for all the class to handle, he wouldn’t have dumped it like that.

Kneeling next to his recent partner, he looked back to Iida. “What did he tell you?” He asked in a hushed tone. It’d be quite surprising if he told everyone about Bakugou. After all, he had only known for two-ish hours, and though Izuku usually took the initiative for that sort of thing, but wasn’t that a bit extreme? Actually, knowing him, no it wouldn’t be. Honestly, the roadblock was Bakugou and Kirishima. They had both been apprehensive, at least he thought Bakugou was from what the other told him, so he doubted that Izuku could convince either, even with one of his famous ‘Deku speeches’, if he even wanted to.

“Well, what did he tell YOU?” Uraraka, who moved from the kitchen to the living room, deflected petulantly, like playing the speech version of the UNO reverse card was a viable option. He remembered Bakugou saying something about the genius of eye-rolling, which could be a sign of either annoyance or mockery; only up to the interpretation of the receiver. For once, he took his advice, and applied it to the conversation. It shut her up, save for an insulted huff. What magic.

Revisiting the words he had previously dismissed due to their childish nature, he realized she might’ve intended to scope out what he knew, so they didn’t accidentally set off a landmine realization. Though, he had to do the same in case they didn’t know. After all, there were many reasons listed as to why he wouldn't inform them. “Something about Bakugou. I may elaborate if you tell me.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, including his second-best friend, Yaoyorozu Momo. Wow, they really hadn’t seen each other in quite a while. “You know then? That Bakugou is a… y’know, a ghost.” Uraraka asked cautiously. If she sounded so hesitant, if he responded with a no, she couldn’t play it off as a joke. Poor planning on her part.

In a situation where she may have information that could make civilians panic, if she had suspicions that someone knew what she did, she wouldn’t be good at safely asking the other if they really knew which may lead to some awful situations. Was she really prepared for proper hero work if she couldn’t even do something as simple as keeping innocents in the dark for their safety? Was she too honest for that? Was he getting off-track as hell in a situation in which he needed to respond?

Eventually, he became self-aware that he hadn’t spoken in a while, too caught up in his thoughts to notice his surroundings. “Actually, he’s a poltergeist, not a ghost. There’s a difference.” He corrected, slightly annoyed with their lack of information.

“Oh. I guess that explains the whole situation with Bakugou’s, ahem, assault. I was going to comment on that detail.” At least Iida knew SOME ghost rules, unlike the others who seemed entirely uneducated on the basic premise of what ghosts could and couldn’t do. I mean, who didn’t know that ghosts weren’t tangible, and hence couldn’t interact with objects in the human domain? Tokoyami would be furious.

“You still haven’t directly answered my question.” Uraraka cocked her head, confused. “What was Izuku talking about that made this happen?” Shouto asked as calmly as possible considering the circumstances, gesturing to the boy laying just in front of him. Uraraka tucked into a ball, as she did when she wanted to avoid a conversation.

They were at a standoff, to see who would divulge the information the other wanted. Shouto would sure as hell win, as far as he could see.

---

Everyone remained dead silent for what seemed hours, but in reality, was just a few minutes. Shouto was getting more and more agitated as the seconds went on. He was about to pounce and start ripping the information out of people when someone spoke up.

It was, as expected, the anger-slayer (official title), Yaoyorozu took the initiative to start up the conversation, like the responsible adult she almost was. “Well, he was… crying quite a bit,” Off to a really upsetting start, but he didn’t comment. “So I couldn’t make out all of it, and he didn’t get to finish, but the basic gist was about this woman named Otsuka Sumi.” He couldn’t help but growl at the mere mention of her name. That, and he still felt guilty about leaving Shinsou and Aizawa behind, sorting the logistics out by themselves, despite Aizawa consoling him.

“I take it you’ve heard of her before.” She hypothesized correctly.

“I was the one who found her goddamn name.” He added, trying and failing to suppress his abundant rage, letting a small cuss word slip, which he so rarely did. Could you really blame him? She murdered his best friend.

Placing her hand on his shoulder, she sympathized. “That must be hard to deal with.” After a nod, she continued her summary. “He mentioned Shinsou going to the police station where she’s being held and tricking her into talking, so he could properly interrogate her, probably hoping she couldn’t figure out the conditions to his quirk from the sports festival.” She supplied.

Dammit, he didn’t even consider she could guess his quirk from that match! It was hardly discussed on the media, so it had probably faded from most people’s minds. But, that same logic didn’t apply to villains. If they were planning on attacking anyone from UA, they would have to do extensive research on the festival. With all the positive publicity it gave them, it’d done a whole lot more bad than it did good. Honestly, most of them came close to failing the provisional licence because of it. Why did UA insist on being so damn flashy?

Now, instead of an important test that would determine their future as heroes, it could possibly be the line between the life or death of one of their most cherished classmates. “And?” He prodded hesitantly, hoping desperately there was nothing else to add.

“Talking about his childhood’s killer along with the stress of worrying about his classmate, who could possibly have to break the law to interrogate a dangerous woman? I think that’s enough to make anyone have a breakdown, not to mention having to cope with grief and clear signs of depression.” She was right. He was genuinely glad that Izuku fell asleep. Better than dealing with an emotionally unstable Izuku than a well-rested one, in his opinion.

Instead of continuing to worry himself with his thoughts, he actually decided to take Aizawa’s advice and go to sleep, but didn’t feel like heading back to his room. Then again… he had a good 168 centimetres of perfectly good boyfriend. He couldn’t let it go to waste. So, he dived onto the mattress, pressing his chest against the heavy sleeper’s shoulder blades.

“Ooh, someone’s in love~” Uraraka cooed like a schoolgirl. Well, she was a schoolgirl, but you know what I mean.

“Yeah, I am. Haven’t told him yet, so keep it down. We just became boyfriends at 8:17. I don’t know much about being in a relationship, but I think that’s moving a little too fast.” He explained in a low tone, careful not to wake the sleeping boy.

Apparently, the trio left in the common room had other plans, as they started yelling and screaming. “Boyfriends? BOYFRIENDS?!” Oh, right. Izuku had a breakdown and wasn’t in a fit state to fill them in about everything that had happened that evening. “Since when?” He had JUST said it was 8:17. Maybe closer to 8:16? Somewhere around that time frame. He wasn’t wearing a watch, so sue him.

“Okay, sleep time.” Shouto tried to softly cover the green-haired boy’s ears to block out the noise, but he was already getting restless, making an excuse to avoid having a conversation about how his and Izuku’s romantic relation came to be.

Though, he should’ve known that flimsy excuse wouldn’t work out. After all, luck had not sided with them much.

As they heard a loud thudding noise coming from one of the floors above, they all had a collective ‘oh, shit, what the hell else is going on right now that I have to deal with?’ moment. It was a very specific moment, but every member of class 1-A had to deal with it at least once in their time at UA. Occupational hazard?

At least the focus wouldn’t be on Shouto’s relationship. Though, was there really any point in focusing on the positive in a flaming heap of garbage?

Chapter Text

Ever since they had gotten to his room, Eijirou had been behaving abnormally. Well, it had actually been for a while longer than that. The first time he noticed it was right before the tea incident, when they were going downstairs to find Icyhot. Normally, he could run for quite a while without even breaking a sweat, but he seemed exhausted just coming down a few flights of stairs.

Not that he was unfit, of course. He made a point of staying in shape. Sure, he hadn’t worked out in a little over a week, but that alone wouldn’t make such a huge impact on his natural vigor. Going back up the stairs seemed to have the same effect on him as well. He teased him about it, but he barely even batted an eyelid. Did he know the cause, or was Katsuki just being overly paranoid? Eijirou changed the subject from his subject-changing too quickly for him to ponder the answer.

Besides, he had given him quite the realization. Dissociation and a constant state of fight or flight. He had never considered any of his seemingly inexplicable behaviours to be the cause of something else. As he took another sip of the tea, Eijirou laughed and asked him to do… something. 

Though he couldn’t really remember what it was, he knew that his response upset the other boy for some reason. Eventually, he started rambling nervously, apologizing for something, despite Katsuki dismissing whatever he was upset about. It was all a blur. At the moment, it wasn’t really his main priority to figure out was caused the problem. The only thing he could focus on was Eijirou’s increasing pallor.

Unfazed by his sickly appearance, or maybe just unaware of it, he continued to needlessly apologize for a thing that Katsuki would soon forget all about. His started looking incrementally more exhausted until he looked too tired to stand up. His worry wasn’t aiding the situation in any way, and he attempted to calm him down enough to get him to properly rest. “I’m okay, just calm down.” His request just seemed to baffle the boy. Eijirou forced himself to get up, but the second he started walking…

In just a matter of milliseconds, Katsuki felt like his whole world was going to fall apart. He had heard many o’ cheesy love stories since he was a kid. For a classic example, Romeo and Juliette. The story was infamous for its gruesome ending. Both had killed themselves because they believed the other to be dead or however the hell it went. Who cares?

Before, he would’ve criticized the insane pair. And, oh boy, he still would. After all, he could’ve just checked Juliette’s pulse, and they both would have survived, but he finally understood them.

In the moment Eijirou began collapsing, he felt like nothing mattered. Like, if he stopped being a ghost; let go of everything in the living world, it wouldn’t be so bad. He hoped he’d see Eijirou in his next life. Of course, he ended up realizing how moronic that would be before he did anything stupid like Romeo, and decided to try to help save Eijirou in any way possible, and considering he was at his best in a crisis, he could help quite a bit.

Surveying the situation as quickly as he possibly could, he determined the worst possible scenario would be hitting his already damaged head onto the corner of the desk, that happened to be right where he was heading. Great. He really shouldn’t have been depending on lady luck.

Instead of freaking out he darted over at super human speed to try to move the desk, but even if he somehow had the strength and speed to move it out of the way in time, for some reason, his hands chose that moment to stop working. Obviously, they moved (why wouldn’t they?), but they weren’t making contact. Why wouldn’t they? Just minutes ago he could do it on a whim! Everything was falling apart.

Unavoidably, he crashed right into the desk, with a resounding thud that filled up the room, though thankfully, his injured head avoided the brunt of the blow, but his neck would certainly be bruised after dealing with the rest of it. Yet, Katsuki couldn’t see the positives through the fear.

Struggling desperately to hold his friend’s head and failing miserably, Katsuki was sinking further and further into nervous prostration, until he just ended up curling into a ball and screaming. No one could hear him, and he was conflicted between being grateful that no one was aware of the embarrassingly emotional noise ripping itself from his throat and cursing the world because he couldn’t alert anyone that Eijirou needed immediate medical attention.

But, the latter won out after seeing the blood seeping out of a cut in his neck. Shit. SHIT. It wasn’t just a bruise, it was a full-on cut, and Katsuki had no idea how much damage it had caused, but the red substance seemed determined to leak everywhere. Was it just a minor, irrelevant injury? No, knowing their luck, it was going to need stitches again, and it’d go horribly wrong.

Under normal circumstances, his voice would have gone hoarse and sore, his tolerance for wearing his voice out notwithstanding due to the sheer volume and force, but his dead-ish state wouldn’t allow him to even feel the pain of tearing his vocal cords apart.

Almost two minutes of desperately trying to alert someone, ANYONE, of their predicament, trying and failing to interact with tangible objects, he heard hushed voices on his floor. He tried banging the door to alert them, but it, once again, his hands went right through. Like he hadn’t been screwed over enough. Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. He bolted up; body rigid and tried to open the door, but after the odd defect that blocked his ability to touch and move things kicked in once more, he decided to just pass through it.

Unfortunately, on his way going through the door, he lost control of the direction due to his frenzy, and went to far forward. Accidentally, he flew into whoever was outside the door, and only managed to stop himself from going any further after going into a sleeping Raccoon Eye’s room. His discomfort at invading her privacy was what stopped him, in case you were wondering.

Backing up, he realized it wasn’t just one person, but many people. In fact, it was three out of four of his least favourite people in their class. Namely, Deku, Icyhot, and Sonic with glasses. Oh, Round Face and Ponytail were there too. They were fine. (He loved those girls, seeing them was the best part of his day)

Apparently, Icyhot was the one he backed into, as the ice prince was shivering. As they had discovered, only his ghost state could make him cold. Evidently, the supernatural could defy any rules, which he found out after stealing a pudding from the fridge without being caught. No evidence. Oh, and no one cared. That helped the crime, he supposed. No one else seemed to notice his reaction, and knocked on his door.

Not that he wanted to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything, but why were they at his door in the first place? He was dead, it wasn’t like he had much use for a bed or desk. Unless Four Eyes thought he wanted to catch up on some studying with some lemon balm tea.

Wait, shit, he was trying to be sarcastic, but that actually sounded amazing. It aided with headaches and reduced stress, which was perfect for studying! Damn it, why did he have to be such a nerd internally?

After a few knocks, Yaoyorozu started trying to speak to Eijirou. He wished he could outright tell them what was happening, but without Eijirou to communicate his message to the ‘living world’, there was no hope for that. “Kirishima,” She started softly. “We heard a noise coming from up here,” The thudding. Would his severe lack of grace going to be the thing that’d save his life? “Are you okay?” She knocked a few more times.

Finally, after another minute of waiting for an answer, Four Eyes took over. “Are you injured? Apologies, if you are asleep, but it is my solemn duty as class representative to check on you.” Yes. YES! For once in his pathetic, stick-up-the-ass life, Iida was doing something epic.

Twisting the doorknob, he quickly gathered that the room was locked, and without hesitation, kicked the fucking door down. He was a mix of proud as hell of his annoying father being a badass once again and wanting to yell at him. It was a perfectly good door, and it just had to be a few weeks after he had to replace it because of an incident with his idiots. (you really don’t want to know, trust me on this one) The control freak was constantly lecturing him about being responsible with the belongings of others, yet, he was so willing to destroy his property?

It wasn’t even that there weren’t any options either! He could have just asked Yaoyorozu to pick the lock, and she would’ve instantly agreed and executed it with ease. “Oh God.” Oh, right, Eijirou was a thing.

… He really liked the door, okay? It was mahogany. Call him a snob, but he wanted a nice entrance to his room.

Uraraka screamed.

Fair reaction.

---

The thud from upstairs was worrying enough to startle everyone on the bottom floor. So, they went straight to work and went to help whoever it was that caused the noise, or castigate them for waking everyone, at Iida’s suggestion. Shouto himself wasn’t too keen on the latter, but the class representative insisted, and he wasn’t exactly searching for conflict with the day he had.

Only, when they went to go in the elevator, it dawned on them that they had no idea who caused the noise, and stepped right back out of the metal box. “What do we do then? We can’t exactly leave it alone. Someone could’ve fallen.” Uraraka pointed out needlessly. They were hero course students, and loyal to a fault, as proved many times by their reckless bravery. They weren’t about to let someone get hurt without doing anything. But then again, what were they going to do?

Knocking on everyone’s door until they found the right person was of course always an option, but it was a terrible idea, considering almost everyone was trying to sleep or already asleep. But, what else could they do? It wasn’t like anyone else had any idea, so-

“I have an idea.” Right. He forgot the genius goddess, Yaoyorozu was with them. “The problem is that we don’t know the epicentre of the sound, so, we simply ask someone more adept than us.” She suggested simply, like that would make sense to anyone other than her. After seeing everyone’s confused faces, she elaborated. “What I mean is we could ask someone with a quirk that affects their hearing, to see if they know which floor it was on. Hopefully, it will be one with not many people.” He hadn’t considered that there were multiple people with quirks that affected their senses before. Maybe after they were done…

Another secret love child theory? Technically, none of them had been disproved at that time. “I just texted Jirou, but I don’t have Shouji’s number, unfortunately.” Yes, they never had been particularly close. “Does anyone here have it?” She asked.

Fortunately, he was closer with him than she was. “I have it.” She breathed a sigh of relief, obviously not having another plan.

Me:

Sorry to interrupt your sleep schedule, but could you tell me if you heard a crash? If so, could you inform me of what floor it happened on? It would be much appreciated.

-Todoroki Shouto.

It wasn’t until after he sent the text that he realized Shouji knew who it was due to having Shouto in his contacts, and he didn’t need to sign it. Izuku laughed at him every time he texted like that, and calling him ‘grandpa’. He just wouldn’t tell him about that particular instance.

As usual, Shouji responded to his text quickly and without complaint withing a minute. It was impressive how good their classmates were about that. I mean, Shouto even answered a vague text about Izuku’s location in the middle of an important internship patrol. Actually, looking back on it, that probably only happened because he was hopelessly in love with him.

Shouji Mezo (octopus guy):

My floor, boy's dorm.

A quick, efficient response. That was why he liked the guy. “Well, our options are narrowed down, then. Shouji’s floor is the fourth?” Iida confirmed his suspicions with a nod. “Well, it wasn’t him, Shinsou’s not in the building, and Bakugou is… well, you know. It must’ve been Kirishima, then.” He concluded, already stepping back into the elevator and pressing the button second from the top, and the others quickly followed his lead.

One surprisingly fats elevator ride later, they had arrived in the hall. None of them were familiar with the layout, but they knew to turn right and avoid the girls’ side of the hall. “I think that Kirishima’s room is the second.” Yaoyorozu knocked a few times, and after receiving no answer, made a glass cup and put it against the door, placing her ear on the other side.

“This is odd.” She said under her breath. “No one’s in there. Kirishima and Bakugou went upstairs a while ago. He should be in here.”

“Maybe they decided to go to Bakugou’s room?” Uraraka suggested. She was probably trying to be optimistic, but it was actually a helpful suggestion for once. “We should go over.” No duh.

Yaoyorozu took her advice and moved down a door and knocked. Subsequently, something passed through Shouto, leaving him shivering. The feeling was familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint it with the intense cold running coursing through him. Odd, considering his quirk allowed him to build up a ridiculous tolerance to temperature. Even after doing something called the ice bucket challenge, he remained unperturbed. Nothing could affect him like that, at least, not to his knowledge.

The raven haired woman started speaking to Kirishima, but he wasn’t really paying attention. Well, he wasn’t until Iida started talking, that is. “Are you injured? Apologies, if you are asleep, but it is my solemn duty as class representative to check on you.” What was he going to do? He wasn’t too concerned with it until he activated his quirk.

With all his patronizing chastising, he was always a bit of a hypocrite. He’d ramble on about respecting possessions, but then he’d go and kick down a door using recipro burst without hesitation. He was sure Bakugou would have a field day hating on Iida for that.

Upon opening the door, the sight that greeted them was terrifying. Kirishima was passed out cold, and blood was gushing out of a cut from a point high up on his body that he couldn’t determine. It stained the surprisingly well fancy and clean carpet. Of course, that wasn’t the main point, but it was all Shouto could focus on without thinking of  Bakugou’s glazed over eyes back at the villain group’s headquarters.

Distantly, he registered a scream, but he couldn’t be bothered to react to it.

All he could hope was that Kirishima would stay alive.

Ha, he just remembered. He asked the same of Bakugou.

Well, you know how that turned out. He learned his lesson that time though. Now, he would be much more attentive, and wouldn't panic and end up being responsible for another's friend death, so, unlike the last time, he took action instead of standing still and watching while he bled to his death. 'no, stop that, focus.' He chided himself, trying to cling on to some semblance of sanity, instead of going straight back to the events that already occurred a week before.

He rushed over to Kirishima's injured body and checked the pulse. He choked down the hysterical laugh and the thought of 'deja vu'. The pulse was lower than he was used to from the energetic boy, but it was definitely still at a livable rate.

Eventually, after the initial shock had passed, Yaoyorozu joined him, making a bandage to cover the wound. As it turned out, she had some knowledge of medical practices. Honestly, considering how intelligent she was, it wasn't the least bit surprising. Apparently, the wound was hardly anything to worry about; it was a mere scratch. The two others were panicking, but that was fine. They had it handled. They were fine.

Another minute later, Ashido walked into the room, obviously had just risen from bed, though somehow, her bedhead looked fabulous, contrast to anyone's expectations. She did that sometimes. 

Depsite her obvious worry and fear, she wasn't frantic or screaming, like he expected her to be. No, she was calm, cool and collected, and above all, ready to help.

That time really would be different, he would make sure of it.

Chapter Text

After hearing the news about Bakugou’s being a ghost from Denki while high, Mina felt like she was floating on cloud nine. Not a side effect of the weed, to be clear, she meant figuratively. After all, she was using recreational substances to deal with her grief. That may sound like nothing to worry about, but the thing was, Mina never got high, despite her boyfriend being a hardcore stoner.

Most of the time, she would go as far as discouraging Hanta when he had an edible or something of the sort, (Of course, she didn’t snitch. She wasn’t that kind of gal) which is why Hanta was so reluctant to give her anything from his stash. Though it annoyed her at the time, she really was glad he cared enough to worry about her mental state, even when he himself was… not in the right mindset to be concerned. Still, it was the only coping mechanism that actually had an effect. It pained her that she had to go that far just to feel better.

Even while they were baked as cookies, neither of them were completely free of the negative emotions overwhelming them. Mina had been crying her eyes out for over an hour, while Hanta just curled into a ball, his usual smile absent. Honestly, his face looked incomplete without his teeth showing.

That was, until Denki showed up at Hanta’s door. Watching him plaster on a fake smile was painful. She snagged a few of his chips while he was preoccupied to make up for her feelings. Normally, she wouldn’t be so underhanded, but munchies and feeling were a wicked combination that made you do unsavoury things. She couldn’t be faulted for her actions as high Mina.

“SERO, MY BRO, I HAVE NEWS! THIS IS. CODE. BLACK!” She nearly choked on the chip; karmic justice striking her once again. She didn’t know whether to be more shocked over hearing the familiar voice or that he said it was a code black. Well, they hadn’t had a code black in so long, since Bakugou was so dedicated to his schedules. Actually, she couldn’t place the exact moment they last had a meeting about Bakugou. Her gut said it was an important one, but her marijuana brain was dulling her memory.

Fortunately, her bae always had her back. “A code black? Bro, we haven’t had one of those since Mina saw him sucking dick with a possibly heterochromatic dude. (which I’m still betting was Todoroki) What the hell is up?” Wow, that was… oddly specific. Which made remembering that much easier.

Right, she forgot that happened, which was odd because he was SUCKING DICK WITH SOMEONE WHO COULD’VE BEEN TODOROKI! It was possibly the most amazing thing that she’d ever been a part of.

Now even more intrigued, Mina may have eavesdropped harder than she had before. “He’s. A. Ghost.”

What the fuck? That wouldn’t be the first time that Denki came into their room with some insane theory that managed to cheer them up, but it was a new level of crazy. They’d never heard it on that level yet, though. Was it his way of coping? Better than getting stoned, in her opinion. Well, if he was happy because of it, she’d be happy too. “Sick dude! Come on, we’re both stoned, and Mina’s gonna be stoked.” He spoke for her, and correctly, too.

Oh boy, it would be quite the story. She was doubtful about it at first, but even Denki, with his seemingly boundless creativity couldn’t ever wrap his head around the specifics of what he was saying. Somehow, it seemed like Hanta was following the whole thing attentively and wholeheartedly. After all, no amount of substance use could completely remove the pain of losing their friend, meanwhile, believing he was still around, in whatever state he was in, would be much easier. Mina found herself completely certain what he was saying was true.

Maybe that was why everyone was so quick to believe what Kirishima and Midoriya were saying in the common area. Then again, the tea incident might have been the thing that pushed them over the edge of belief instead of the cliff of despair. Damn, that was profound. It deserved a place in her high thoughts journal. Sure, she knew she just used it to make fun of herself when she was sober, but sometimes it could be useful! (it wasn’t)

Any worries dwelling in the back of her mind were completely washed away after seeing a floating teacup. She forgot that earlier in the story, he mentioned figuring out Bakugou was a ghost after he threw some bottles at him and Shinsou, meaning he was a poltergeist. Obviously, the best type of ghost, but also really useful.

After all, if they were going to help him, it was simpler with someone who could touch stuff. Probably. Give her a break, she had ever been in that type of situation before. Had anyone? Was this like, a common occurrence in some places?

If nothing else, the information apropos Bakugou’s whereabouts lulled her to sleep that night, contrary to the sleepless nights before. That was, until her slumber was disturbed. At first, it was a mere rustle of papers scattered uselessly around her room, which quickly disappeared. She brushed it off quickly and rested her head back on her soft, pink-stained pillow. How it got pink, you don’t want to know. Let’s just say, girl’s night out could get real wild.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. She was officially up and at ‘em after hearing an ear-piercing scream that she easily identified as Ochako’s. Again, girl’s night was wild. Quickly, she put herself together, throwing a robe on, not bothering to fix her messy hair. Everyone was used to seeing it curly anyway.

Identifying the scream was easy, but the problem was that it didn’t come from Ochako’s room. It was somewhere on their floor, but she wasn’t sure exactly where. She didn’t know if it was an emergency, or she was just startled by something, but whatever it was, she made sure to run fast enough to help if she got stabbed or something, assuming it didn’t hit any vital organs. (...She was hanging around Bakugou a lot, don’t judge her for her socially unacceptable knowledge) Of course, she didn’t think someone would dare break into a secure hero school, so the stabbing was unlikely.

Thankfully, it was obvious where the danger was coming from as soon as she got to the boy’s dorm hallway, considering that Denki and Ochako were standing outside Bakugou’s dorm room with shocked looks on their faces. Well, at least she knew nothing much could happen to Bakugo while dead, so he was probably just traumatizing them with some ghost powers or some shit like that. He could be so insensitive sometimes.

Although, it was odd. She had never seen him try to insult, taunt or hurt Ochako, unlike virtually anyone else. Actually, he seemed rather fond of her bestie, a fact which secret that lifted her spirits whenever she thought about it. Occasionally, he would subconsciously call her his little sister.

Dismissing it as trying to scare Denki and accidentally getting to Ochako in the process, she continued forward. She tapped her two besties’ shoulders, trying to snap them out of the trance they had gotten themselves into.

Then, she looked inside the room. Eijirou. Yaomomo was on the left of him, trying to stop the blood flow from his neck with excessive amounts of bandages, a panicked look on her face, as expected, but seeming to keep herself going, and even thrive on the fear. Todoroki was on the right of him, assessing the damage. For a moment, she was just as frozen as the other two, but eventually jumped right into the fray. “How can I help?”

She threw her robe to the other side of the room. She couldn’t get blood on it, the stuff was impossible to remove from cotton, believe her on that one.

Mina could’ve sworn Todoroki smiled at her question.

Fuck, he was a goddamn angel.

---

Seeing Kirishima’s body slumped against Bakugou’s desk stunned Momo for a while. Not because the injury startled her, no, how good of a hero could she be if she got deterred by a bit of blood that was probably coming from a minor wound?

No, the thing that scared her was thinking about how Shouto was reacting. Sure, he wasn’t on the floor sobbing, but not all negative emotions came in the same form. The look on his face was haunting enough, but what was causing it was a worse notion. Really, she couldn't think of an alternative answer. He was being reminded of seeing Bakugou’s death.

Before that point, she had been doing everything she could to avoid thinking about what could’ve happened at the scene. She was always trying to preoccupy herself, denial disguised as constant restlessness. But, when it looked at her head on, she could no longer avoid the truth. It scarred and traumatized everyone involved, whether they had head injuries blocking their memories or not. Was his body sprawled out against a wall like the other’s was? Was it in a more gruesome position, arranged specifically to torment the eyes of all who viewed it, like some deranged killers did?

Despite how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Sometimes, her intense empathy was more of a burden than it was helpful. Even though she wasn’t at the scene, she could picture the gore. She saw that it was just a single bullet at the oddly chosen open casket funeral, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t worse than that. They could’ve covered up any telling bruises and scars with makeup, and that stiff position was certainly not natural, especially considering his horrendous posture.

What had that sadistic woman done to her friend? Why did it seem to rip Midoriya apart simply retelling the basics of it? Sure, it was completely valid if that was only the reaction to seeing your average dead body, not that any dead body could really be considered ‘average’, but she couldn’t help her mind from wandering to the darker places.

The more she spiralled, the more muffled everything around her became. She barely recognized that she was examining the small incision on the back of his neck. Examining his sutures, which were clearly not looking the way they were supposed to was what made her return to reality. She tried to stay out of her head, but was struggling not to return to the thoughts which were consuming her before.

Only after another minute of fighting off the intrusive thoughts did she realize Mina had joined her and Todoroki. Unlike Ochako and Kaminari, she seemed calm, at least on the outside. Momo wasn’t born yesterday, she knew that Mina wasn’t okay.

Still, she was grateful that another person had arrived without freaking out. Truly, it was an accomplishment. After all, they were all still kids. Kids who were either raised poorly, without the emotional capacity to handle things, or just mentally ill without the support they so desperately needed. A fact which many seemed to forget while constantly asking them to go past their limits, even when it nearly cost them their lives so many times, while harassing them for information about a kidnapped or dead classmate. They couldn’t even step outside without being harassed by reporters dying for a scoop, even without even taking the students’ sanity into account.

“How can I help?” Mina asked them, already kneeling to Kirishima’s level. Out of the corner of her eye, Momo saw Shouto smile. A rare occurrence for sure, but she didn’t know how to feel about it. Was it hysteria? Whatever the reason was, it seemed to cheer Mina up, which was exactly what they needed.

Gently, Momo pushed her back up. “As sweet as that is, right now, we need someone to get a message across to the teacher. Do you have the contact of any staff members around here?” She asked her.

Really, as nice as the sentiment was, Mina really wasn’t in the state to help him, especially considering how close she was with the red haired boy. Besides, Ochako and Kaminari clearly weren’t in a good enough mindset to reach out to anyone. The girl pulled out her phone and scrolled through it for a minute before exhaling loudly, releasing a great deal of tension from her body. “Aizawa sensei. I have Aizawa sensei’s contact.”

Odd, he was the last person Momo would expect to be giving out contacts to his students. Sure, it was obvious he cared immensely about his students that only developed since their first year, but she had never seen him use his phone in all the time she could remember with him. Maybe he was even more worried about Bakugou’s closer friends than she suspected. Reasons notwithstanding, she was exorbitantly relieved at the news. “That’s perfect, thank you, Mina. Please, call him now.” She pleaded. As expected, she did so without hesitation.

She called the number, and after five rings, she heard his voice. “This is Aizawa, I’m probably taking a nap now so… don’t call again for another few hours.” Voicemail. Shit.

“No problem,” Mina reassured. “I’ll just text him.” Since she took so long typing out her essays, Momo didn’t expect her to be so fast about texting people. Her finger moved at a speed she only saw with professional typists, and sent the message to him in just a few seconds.

A few seconds later, there was a response. Apparently, Aizawa was also a quick typer. “What did he say?” She asked her friend. She just showed her the screen.

‘Fuck. See you in a minute.’

Chapter Text

Shouto was mad at him, Shouta knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The kid needed rest, and he wasn’t going to get any without a nudge from someone. If his anger was what it costed, so be it. Besides, after he calmed down and left the room, he would see reason and realize that he was right to send him away.

Clearly, as you could see from just a quick glance around the room, he was helpful, but his wellbeing was far more important than what he could provide for them. According to the files, Otsuka’s trial was in four days, and she was almost certainly going to be declared guilty with around a twenty-to-thirty-year sentence, since the jury and judge didn’t want to get on the public’s bad side, but that wasn’t what they were looking for. Sure, seeing her behind bars would be satisfying as hell, but they didn’t want vengeance, they wanted to reverse what she had done.

For the first time, that was actually a viable option. So, he scoured through the information on Shouto’s many computers, files, and his crazy board, which he had already rearranged. In another life, he would have made an amazing detective. Looking through all the variables he thought of explained why he did so well with the scientific method in his old private school. But, it also made Shouta realize how much of a long shot talking to Otsuka was.

Would Tsukauchi say yes? Would she be unresponsive to Hitoshi, not just because of possible knowledge about the mechanics of his quirk, but also because she didn’t say anything to anyone else? Why would they be the exception? Would there even be a solution? Was her quirk the cause?

So many unknowns. TOO many unknowns. Yet, he wouldn’t give up. Shouto did what he could, but he didn’t know Tsukauchi like Shouta did.

For example, Shouto couldn’t seem to wrap his head around why he was continuing to interrogate her, even after a whole week, with all the evidence he needed, but Shouta knew exactly why. Tsukauchi was the sternest, strictest stickler he had ever met, and that was coming from Mr. Stick-up-the-ass, and he was unbending when it came to the law. Well, almost unbending. You see, he had one weakness, and that was kids. Again, Shouta was not one to talk.

In a case a few years before Shouta became a teacher, there was a man who was constantly using his quirk without a license, and they managed to track him down together. But, as it turned out, he had a small child with him. If they arrested him, the child would have to go into foster care, as there wasn’t another parent in the picture. He expected to have to convince Tsukauchi to let the man go, but, as it turned out, he was already leaving the house, and later closed the case. Shouta talked to him about it later and discovered how much the man loved kids. He would’ve had one of his own if he had the time and a partner.

Immediately after Shouta called him about the woman who killed Bakugou back when he first heard about the incident four days before, he ranted on the phone for an entire hour about how much he hated her, and what he would do to her. It must’ve been what encouraged him to take over the case. And after the video released to the media, he was even more furious.

Maybe they had a better shot at getting through to him than they suspected. He was going to walk right out the door to the police station but realized it was nearing midnight. Speaking of which… “Hitoshi, go to bed.” He said to his son, who he almost forgot was with him due to his complete silence.

Worryingly, he wasn’t met with vehement disagreements, like with Shouto. He always protested against sleeping. He whipped his head around, expecting to be either dead or not in the room, but only heard a faint snore. His purple-haired kid was sitting in his less than comfortable chair, his head and neck bent at an awkward position that would surely hurt the next morning, completely asleep. Look at his kid, getting a healthy amount of sleep like the average teenager. So proud.

Although, he’d rather not have him sleep in a way that would definitely damage his spinal cord. So, for the second time in one day, he lifted him right out of his sleeping position and bridal carried him out of the room. Hitoshi could be as embarrassed as he wanted when he wasn’t suffering because he fell asleep in a fold-up chair. Shouta knew first hand how uncomfortable an experience that was.

Hoisting him up and tossing him over his shoulder, he walked in the direction of Height’s Alliance.

---

Honestly, he was proud of himself. Thirty-two years old and still able to lift a 5’9” adolescent without throwing out his back or something. Still, he wasn’t All Might, he couldn’t carry him all the way to his dorm. However, he was just a quick step away from the nurse’s. “He can stay here.” She said unexpectedly.

“Really?” He asked with disbelief. She rolled her eyes and turned back to her room, which was attached to her office.

“Eraser, this child has never once caused me trouble, unlike the entire rest of your class, and with children I actually like, as in the rest of UA other than 1-A, Monoma, and Testutetsu, I take care of them. It’s my job. Besides, getting this insomniac to sleep properly would be a miracle.” Right. Since he had been with them for three years, he forgot that Recovery Girl actually liked people that didn’t crack open their skulls on a whim.

“Speaking of 1-A,” She started. Oh, god, was she going to lecture him in their stead? “How is Kirishima? I like that boy, and I’m afraid his sutures aren’t healed enough. I should’ve given him medication.” She fretted. It was surprising she was fond of Kirishima. Well, he got hurt less than the rest due to his quirk, but he constantly put himself in danger, like during the fight with Overhaul. He was sunshine incarnate, but he didn’t think she had enough emotion enough left in her cold soul for that to be a factor.

“Sorry, haven’t seen him in an hour and a half. The last time I saw him though, he was looking fine. I’m definitely no doctor, so you shouldn’t take my observations too seriously. He should go for another check-up. We have time, don’t we?” He reassured. The fact that she paused at his question made all sorts of worries pop up. “Don’t we?” He repeated more urgently.

“Don’t we?” She glanced nervously around the room, as if hoping for someone to save her from his wrath. Little did she know, he wouldn’t take mercy on anyone if they were putting his students in harm’s way. Unless he was the one doing it.

“I’m not so sure about that.” She admitted. Oh, Christ, what new shit storm had arrived at their door? “Well, he’s been dealing with extreme accumulative stress, rampant emotions, the side effects of wound dehiscence, including dizziness and lightheadedness, high blood pressure, taking a certain medication, along with other possible factors which he is very likely to be prone to or experiencing, he, well-”

Shouta was a kid who lived on the streets and in foster homes, and was constantly near starving. He was aware of what the causes she was listing made happen. “Syncope. Fainting. You don’t think it’s actually going to happen, do you?” He asked, concerned for his kid.

“Well, I don’t know, but better safe than sorry, right?” His phone started vibrating, startling him a little, but he ignored it, focusing on the conversation. “Where is he right now?”

“He might be back in the dorms right now, but I’m not 100% certain. Should I ask around?” She nodded, throwing on her coat, and Shouta draped a blanket over his kid. He stirred a bit in the hospital bed she had placed him in, but inevitably settled back down, tucking himself into a ball and pulling the blanket further up. Some say Shouta’s heart grew three sizes that day.

His phone vibrated again, but that time, it was a text. He picked it up, expecting it to be Hizashi, wondering what he was doing with his usual daily check-up, but was surprised upon realizing it was Ashido. He forgot that he got her his phone number during the training camp incident.

What an annoyance. She had never used it before, so it worried him enough to check what it said.

‘Eijirou just collapsed in Bakugou’s dorm and he’s bleeding a lot we need you’ Not a single comma. Not that the grammar was the main issue, but it made him pity her. She would not do well with Hizashi’s upcoming text.

Also, god FUCKING dammit.

“Turns out we’re a little too late.” Recovery Girl paused, looking at him expectantly. He answered her unspoken question. “Bakugou’s dorm room. I’ll get a wheelchair or something.” She nodded, sighing exasperatedly.

He texted Ashido back quickly as his fingers would allow, making sure not to worry his students more than they already were because of their unconscious classmate. ‘Fuck. See you in a minute.’

Shouta already swore in front of Bakugou, what was the point in avoiding it in front of his other students? All Might would surely chew him out later, but what did he care about that old geezer’s opinions? He held no respect for that pathetic excuse of a hero. Iida would probably be mad too, but he was his teacher. That wouldn’t stop him though, he knew that.

“These children. As if they didn’t already have enough trauma.” She commented, oddly sympathetically. “Do you know what the damage is?”

“Ashido mentioned there was blood. Maybe he hit something on the way down.” She nearly dropped her coat, stopping dead in her tracks with wide eyes. “What? She didn’t say he was dead, just that they needed me. How bad could it be?”

Wrong thing to say, apparently. “‘How bad could it be?’” She said in a mocking tone, already jabbing at him aggressively with her cane. He swore she didn’t need the thing, and she only had it to injure the people she was chastising. “He has sutures, Aizawa, already poorly healed sutures, no less! What if he hit his head, and that’s what’s bleeding?” Shit. SHIT.

He ran even faster to go help his idiotic student.

Chapter Text

Seeing Midoriya run off with Kirishima, Todoroki and… Bakugou(?) left him alone once again, and questioning everything he thought he knew, but Toshinori resolved to not go and mope around for the rest of the day. He did some productive work, taking his role as a teacher at UA seriously for once and prepared some lessons for his future classes, which were starting up again after the weekend was over. Hero studies hadn’t been major since their second year ended, but he was determined to cram some important information in his students’ brains.

Actually, he even managed to get some sleep after 9pm that wasn’t completely fuelled by depression. It was the best sleep he had in twenty years.

Well, it was, that is, until SHE called him at 11:45pm. Oh well, at least he had an almost three-hour sleep before shit went down. He tried to let the phone ring out and avoid his responsibilities, but after she called a third time, he had no choice but to address it. “Yagi.”

Recovery Girl was at her wit’s end, Toshinori could tell from a mere moment of her speaking. Believe him when he said he knew the sound of her frustration well, from back at his days at UA, where he would be nearly as much trouble as Young Midoriya. Quite an accomplishment, in his opinion.

Annoyance dripping from her voice at that hour, to a degree audible to any average person, calling him when she would usually be fast asleep and not already berating him? Yeah, one of his students was dying, that much was clear. There was no other explanation. “Where’s Young Midoriya, Shuuzenji?” Okay, maybe that shouldn’t have been his first question, but he wanted to make sure his successor wasn’t in a coma or something, which was more probable than any of his other students getting injured.

Okay, maybe Young Bakugou was a runner-up, then Young Kaminari. After all, he had already ended up in the nurse’s room because of frying a few too many brain cells or throwing himself against a wall at full speed due to a dare. Everyone in 1-A was susceptible, obviously, as a result of the class’ curse of running into villains seemingly weekly, but his kid was more of a danger to himself than anyone else.

Truthfully, Toshinori suspected being so self-destructive was a point of pride for the child. There was no other reason he could’ve broken the frankly ridiculous number of bones he had.

Instead of quickly confirming his suspicions, she sighed with what might’ve been annoyance. “Not THIS time, no.” Odd. Why would she be calling him if it wasn’t one for all related injuries? It wasn’t his fault if it wasn’t Young Midoriya. “Yagi, Kirishima Eijirou has sustained a possible head injury on top of his concussion, along with experiencing a fainting spell. We’re going over to him now, but please be on your way. They’re in the dorms, Bakugou’s, specifically.” Wait, hold up, Young Kirishima?

Of everyone in 1-A, other than maybe Ojirou, due to being utterly normal, he was the least expected to be injured. His quirk made sure to prevent that! Sure, he had ended up in the hospital a few times, but which student of his hadn’t? Well, Shinsou, but he had only joined them in the second year.

“Slow down, what happened? Why are you calling me?” She sighed once more, that time undoubtedly annoyance.

Whatever she was about to tell him, he knew he would either get chewed out or she’d say something short and hurtful that would be painfully accurate. “Yagi, you’re not just a mentor, you signed up to be a teacher here. All of your students should be treated with equal respect, and that includes the problem child.” Stealing Aizawa’s nickname? That was low “Right now, your students need you.” She yelled. Ah, so a combination of both answers. Well, he didn’t like that at all.

Although, as usual, it was true. “That isn’t what I meant, Shuuzenji,” Despite it being accurate, that wasn’t the reason behind his question. “I meant why call me in this situation? Usually, I go visit Young Midoriya because you want to yell at me for being irresponsible as a mentor, but I had nothing to do with this incident.” At least he was pretty sure he wasn’t. He seemed to be responsible for many things he wasn’t aware of.

Yet another sigh came from the other side. She’d end up running out of oxygen at the rate she was going at. “You’re their teacher, and they need someone, an adult, to be perfectly clear, to help them recover emotionally.” That still didn’t answer his question.

“Okay, why not call Eraser or Mic? Aren’t they the kids’ go-to emotional support teachers?” He questioned skeptically.

“They don’t have emotional support teachers, whatever that means, they just need the support of someone they can trust, and right now, they trust you. It’s not because of any other circumstances.” Toshinori couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. She wouldn’t even let him outside without fretting about the things he’d do, there was no way she’d let him talk to emotionally unstable children. She had no surety or confidence in her voice at all, it was clear that she was lying, even without the blatant lack of truth from the statement.

“Okay, okay, of course you aren’t my first choice, but I need you to work with me on this one. All the rest of the staff are at home, except for Hound Dog and Eraser, but Eraser needs back up, and I’d rather someone who can still speak proper language while worked up. Just shut up and get here in the next few minutes. I’ll give you more details at the scene.” She assured, hanging up on him.

Naturally, he threw on a robe on top of his baggy shirt and shorts, looking like a proper old man, and ran straight to the dorms. In his sleepy state, he somehow ended up at the 1-B building, but quickly rerouted, sprinting the other direction. Thankfully, it was only two minutes away.

Kicking the door to the building needlessly, which already seemed to have hinges which were severely damaged (He would make sure to pay for the damage after dealing with the main problem) he ran to the elevator, only to realize that he didn’t know which floor he was on. Actually, he didn’t know which floor any of the rooms were on. He really needed to hang around the class more.

Backup plan then. He ran up the stairs, checking for a commotion on each of them. He heard some rustling on the third floor, but it turned out to be nothing but Young Jirou pacing nervously around her side of the hallway. At least, he thought it was nothing until she came rushing up to him, rambling. “All Might! Thank god. I-I heard something upstairs, and Yaomomo texted me about it, and I responded late, and it isn’t even read. She always reads my texts! Is she okay? What’s going on? Do you know?” She chewed on her lip anxiously, continuing to pace, but at an even faster speed.

Well, at least it gave Toshinori some information. “Young Jirou, I promise to fill you in later, please just tell me which floor Bakugou is on.” She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes widening.

“What? Bakugou’s floor? Is he the one who got hurt?” What? That wasn’t the reply he was anticipating. Had she not gotten past the denial stage? He supposed it had only been three days since she had found out about the situation. But he assumed that they had all gotten past that after seeing his dead body. “Is that even possible?” … Okay, he definitely didn’t understand that. But, he didn’t have time to contemplate it.

“Young one, I know you’re worried, but you must tell me.” He pleaded, resting his hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

Shrinking back, face flushing, she finally answered his question. “Uh, yeah, sorry about that.” Her earphones tapped together, a nervous habit he noticed she’d picked up. “He’s on the floor above me, the fourth. I’ve been hearing all kinds of noises up there, but there were so many that I couldn’t pinpoint the main source. I didn’t go up in case someone was doing something private.” She explained, pointing up to the floor above them with her earphone jacks. As he left, he felt her tug on his sleeve. “You’ll tell me what’s going on right after you’re done doing what you need to?” She asked shyly.

Smiling, he gave her a thumbs up. “Of course I will. Others are on their way too, so whatever’s going on will be resolved, surely.” Toshinori said in an attempt to put her mind to rest, before heading off to the fourth floor.

Young Jirou’s directions were proven useful as he saw the many people gathering around the room he assumed was Young Bakugou’s.

“I AM HERE.” He declared boisterously in an attempt to reassure the traumatized children. Before, the traumatized part was just speculation, but seeing the terrified looks on the faces of some of the cheeriest people in the class, namely Young Kaminari and Uraraka, confirmed it entirely.

“Took you long enough.”

---

Somewhere along the way to 1-A’s dorms, Shouta decided that Recovery Girl wasn’t going nearly as quickly as she needed to for them to get there on time, so he hoisted her onto his back. Unsurprisingly, the frail, short old woman was much lighter than Hitoshi, so running while giving her a piggyback was hardly any different from running normally.

Although she protested against being up there, after a while of Shouta being unresponsive to her smacking him with a cane, she gave up. It was better that way. He needed to arrive as soon as was possible, with Recovery Girl by his side, or else he was sure something bad would happen. That wasn’t just his anxiety talking either, he had a sixth sense his husband liked to call ‘the teacher sense’, that alerted him whenever something awful was going to happen to his students.

For example, at the USJ. It was the first instance of its appearance, so he just thought he was being paranoid, but then the villains came through the portal made by his old friend’s twisted corpse. Actually, he had felt the same thing while looking for information on Otsuka’s case, but dismissed it once again, too focused on what was in front of him. He assumed (correctly) that was when Kirishima passed out.

Eventually, instead of making grumbling sounds from his shoulders, Recover Girl decided to make a phone call. He kept his nose out of her business for the first call, but on the second, Shouta had to wonder what was so important that she wasn’t thinking about his students. “Who are you trying to call?”

As peeved as she looked at his intrusive question, she answered anyway. “All Might.” She said nothing else. It confused him to no end. Why would she need him?

Perhaps he should be more honest. His question was why would she WANT him? It was no secret that Shouta had a grudge against All Might, but that wasn’t why he was surprised. He acknowledged that the man was capable, but Recovery Girl was the one who did NOT. She trusted him as far as she could throw him, and, even in his skeletal, frail form, he was pretty sure she couldn’t even lift the guy. So, why would she call the man she hated so openly in a time of crisis? “Yagi.”

Never mind. Evidently, whatever reason she was calling him for must’ve been important, or else she wouldn’t have sounded so annoyed as soon as the call started. Not that he didn’t trust her judgment, he simply thought that it was strange. He heard some noise from the other side of the phone, but he didn’t listen in. He had unshakable morals when it came to privacy.

Despite his efforts not to intrude, he caught snippets of their conversation. “-All of your students should be treated with equal respect, and that includes the problem child.” Amen, hallelujah. He didn’t give a rat’s ass that he had some sort of special bond with Midoriya, his children deserved to be treated as equivalent, personal feelings aside. Also, he had to approve of her use of his ‘loving’ nickname for the green haired mess of a child.

“You aren’t my first choice, but I need you to work with me on this one. All the rest of the staff are at home, except for Hound Dog and Eraser, but Eraser needs backup,” Are you fucking serious? After all they had been through, she didn’t believe he, Aizawa Shouta of all people, could take care of his students alone?

As much as it offended him, he kept his mouth shut about it. He didn’t NEED backup, he only wanted it. He could take care of them on his own, but with all the stress that had piled on him, even just in that day, it’d be a challenge, and it would take quite the toll on his mental health. Hizashi would definitely kill him if he ended up having another breakdown in front of their kids.

Hizashi would be better backup, and would certainly come rushing to his side instantaneously with a sleeping, emotional support Eri in hand, but he didn’t want to worry his poor, drained husband, making All Might their best option, as much as he hated to say it.

Only a minute after she hung up, they arrived at the building. He was in such a rush that he kicked down the door. He felt bad and shut it gently after entering. He’d at least make sure to not let the cold air in. He may have been worried, but he had basic human decency. Shouta rummaged through his memory for Bakugou’s dorm, and, thankfully, remembered he was on the fourth floor, with Kirishima’s right next to it. No wonder they found him there. He secretly shipped his students, which is why he put them next to each other, though he separated the ones who weren’t oblivious and would end up sleeping with each other.

One elevator ride later, he remembered to put the old woman on his back down again. He didn’t need to know which room he was in, apparently. Everyone seemed to have gathered outside to point him in the right direction.

“Kids, how is Kirishima?” He shouted absentmindedly, which seemed to snap the yellow and brown haired students out of their stupor.

“Uh… he’s not…” Kaminari didn’t finish his sentence, merely pointed inside for Shouta to assess the damage for himself. He didn’t tell him what he really wanted to know. Was his bright, cheery student dead? He doubted that was the case, but it had been nagging him since they had left the office. Recovery Girl planted the idea in his head and he couldn’t seem to get it out,

Unlike him, the school nurse rushed right into the boy’s dorm without hesitation. In a moment of courage, he took a peek. Mina wasn’t exaggerating, there was blood everywhere, but it filled him with relief. If he was bleeding, it meant he wasn’t dead. Most of the blood had stopped, but only due to bandages being wrapped around his neck. Not his head, his neck. With the worry of his student getting a double head injury gone, Shouta had to admire Yaoyorozu’s quick thinking in a crisis.

He stood outside the hallway, pulling Kaminari, Uraraka, and the more stable, but still visibly distressed Iida into a subtle hug, until five minutes later, just after Recovery Girl carted Kirishima out of the room on a wheelchair, All Might arrived.

Yes, he wrapped his arms around his students for five whole minutes.

“Took you long enough."

Chapter Text

Katsuki had been completely out of it. Well, that was a bit of an understatement, obviously, but there just weren’t any other words to describe what he was feeling at that moment. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure that they were feelings. Everything just felt distorted, out of focus.

As made clear by his earlier breakdown, he had processed what happened, but he couldn’t fixate on what the main issue was. The only recurring thought he had was about the blood and destruction staining his room, carpet, walls, door, everything would have to be repaired. A nervous laugh bubbled up in his throat thinking about the cost. ‘Oh, I’m in shock.’ He vaguely registered, though he couldn’t be bothered to be concerned about it.

Intense anger filled him once again, but he didn’t know where to direct it, and he didn’t know how to solve it. He felt physically ill, although that wasn’t possible for him at the time.

Katsuki wanted to leave the scene so badly. He’d been hovering the whole time, too afraid to go on ground level since he couldn’t seem to regulate his ghostly interactions with tangible objects, like normal. Despite that, he so desperately wanted to curl up in a ball on the floor. Surprisingly, he didn’t end up sinking right through the carpet, instead, was on the same level as it. Who knows how deep he’d go if he didn’t? Maybe he’d go all the way down to Hell, and the devil would realize where the missing soul of the damned was.

Icyhot seemed to be doing better than he was, but not by much. He seemed to only be holding his hysteria back by a hair, as demonstrated by the overly blank expression on his face. At least he was helping, unlike Katsuki. He would, obviously, if he could, but he couldn’t touch anything, except the floor where he was laying, it seemed.

“Come on, come on…” He heard Yaoyorozu mutter to herself as she gently wrapped another bandage around Eijirou’s neck. How was she keeping it together? Sure, as heroes, they would have to deal with things like that all the time, but they were kids. Not only children though, but ones dealing with their friend bleeding out, not just some random stranger who had no significance in their life. All the wrath built up in him, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at the three people standing, paralyzed in the doorway. He was surprised that Iida was one of them, but you couldn’t expect him to be put together all the time.

Though he didn’t even realize it, many minutes had passed. He saw Aizawa come in, but it was like he was watching a movie unfold. He wasn’t particularly invested, it felt nothing was real. An out-of-body experience, almost. He hadn’t understood when people talked about those sorts of feelings before, but it made so much sense to him. Truthfully, it was the only thing making any sense while everything was falling apart.

Recovery Girl was with him. That snapped him right back to reality. It would be okay. He knew he wasn’t dead, and she was the best healer around. He would be fine. That fact didn’t stop him from freaking the hell out.

Although he didn’t resume his previous state of screaming, crying, and breaking down on the floor, he wasn’t doing much better. But, at least, the crying was the sole thing that returned. He’d much rather the screaming, obviously. That was the way he expressed his emotions, constant cathartic screaming. Everyone knew that, just look at the state of their eardrums. (Spoiler alert, it wasn’t pleasant, believe him on that part. Jirou and Shouji were especially fed up with him)

Thank god no one could see him acting so pathetically, making choked sobbing noises, curled into himself, on the floor, like a repulsive idiot. The exact thing he would make fun of others for doing.

Eventually, someone else arrived at the gruesome scene. Great, another person to be traumatized. Not like they didn’t already have enough of that going around. Except, instead of it being another worried student, it was All Might. Much less likely to be scarred than the rest. Katsuki could deal with him.

“I AM HERE!” He shouted with much more cheer than the horrible incident deserved. Why did he always insist on being so rowdy even when there was a serious, terrible thing happening in front of him? Sure, he could understand that it helped calm people down in a macabre situation, but, concurrently, it made his rampant emotions feel even more irrational than they had before, and invalidating them.

Maybe that sounded a bit dramatic and judgmental, he knew the man meant well, but that was what he was feeling at the time. But, his emotions were never logical, it seemed.

“Took you long enough.” Aizawa commented, finally letting go of the kids Katsuki barely realized he was clinging on to, seething with anger and annoyance, as he usually was around their retired pro-hero teacher. Despite his admiration for the man, he understood and accepted that Aizawa held resentment for him, and weirdly enough, didn’t feel inclined to defend him. After all, he respected his homeroom teacher far more than he did the other man, though he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the reason as to why that was.

“Apologies. I took a wrong turn.” A wrong turn? He had been teaching them for just as long as Aizawa, and they had lived in the dorms for just a little less time than that, yet he still managed to not know the direction of Height’s Alliance? He hated to say it, but he was a neglectful teacher. Odd, he never seemed to adapt to being a full-time teacher.

It appeared that the younger teacher had the same feelings as him if the teeth-gritting and deep scowl was anything to go on. He said nothing in response, surprisingly, simply going back to taking care of the shocked kids, cozy in his arms.

Instead of explaining his side of the story, All Might entered his room. They could’ve at least knocked. Not that they would’ve received a response that they could perceive, as Katsuki still couldn’t seem to regulate his presence on the Earthly plane, but it would’ve been nice to have some semblance of privacy, however fragile. Apparently, having someone pass out in your room would negate any sort of rules against going into your space without permission. Not that he minded the extra help.

Hell, at that moment, he was more Katsuki’s hero than he had ever been before, which was saying a lot. You could tell by the copious amounts of his merchandise that filled his room with colour.

And he was looking right at it. Great.

If he wasn’t already, he’d have died of embarrassment right there. At least it wasn’t quite as much merch as the nerd had.

He had the common sense to keep the rest of the merch in a separate warehouse.

---

Assessing the damage, All Might looked like he had lost pigment, which concerned the ash-blonde boy deeply until he realized that he had just turned deathly pale. Not a good thing, of course, he didn’t want him to pass out or anything, but it was better than pigment literally leaving him. At least, he thought that was the worse option. He wasn’t a biologist by any means, and he had no idea what the effects of losing pigment would be. For all he knew, it could be the most dangerous thing that could happen to the human body.

Wow, he was going deep down irrelevant thoughts, wasn’t he? Really, he knew he was trying to avoid looking in the direction of the blood of his friend. But, as everyone knew about him, he wasn’t one to avoid his fears. He took pride in the fact that he faced them head-on.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one worried about the damage to the room. Yaoyorozu was on her hands and knees, scrubbing furiously at the wall where Eijirou’s head was resting, the floor and the carpet, using some kind of cleaning product she must’ve produced from her body fat, which just made him wonder if she had memorized the atomic makeup of ‘blood buster’ cleaning supplies.

Jesus Fucking Christ, could she get any more perfect? Maybe she was doing it to distract herself from the gravity of the situation, but he was still extremely grateful that she even thought about the state of his room, and took action to help. The wall was already cleaned, and though it seemed like an abundance at the time, he realized that there wasn’t as much blood as he expected. As she said, it was a minor wound, but blood just gets everywhere.

Once, he got a paper cut, and he didn’t realize there was any pain there, and it ended up horribly staining the school hallway. The same thing happened whenever someone got a nosebleed, especially if it came out of nowhere.

Eijirou would be fine, as would his expensive carpet if Ponytail had anything to say about it. “Miss Yaoyorozu, you should go take a walk.” All Might suggested gently, resting his hand on her shoulder. What, was that the only move he had to comfort victims? How did he ever make it as a rescue hero?

Both Katsuki and All Might expected her to comply or respond how she normally would, but, leave it to her to defy expectations, I suppose. She slapped his hand right off her, her expression unchanged from its blank look, still scrubbing furiously at his once-white carpet, desperately trying to remove any trace of the blood from the surprisingly soft material. He wished he could’ve made it easier for her by buying a rug somewhat close to red or dark, like the rest of his room. Although he had to admit, the contrast looked fucking magnificent. Damn his eye for interior decorating.

“Young Yaoyorozu, maybe you should leave.” All Might suggested again, with slightly more force than the last time. She looked like she didn’t even hear his suggestion/request. He repeated the same words, thinking she didn’t hear him, but she merely switched products, specifically, to hydrogen peroxide. “The state of the carpet isn’t the main concern right now. I’m sure Young Bakugou wouldn’t mind all too much,” he reassured.

What was it with people always trying to speak for the dead? ‘They wouldn’t want this’, or ‘they would be proud’. Fuck them. He would really like for her to fix his carpet, and she didn’t object. In fact, she was doing it of her own accord.

Besides, she looked lost. Cleaning was clearly a distraction from everything else going on around her. Icyhot looked even more lost than her, without a purpose like she had. As usual, she noticed what he did and spoke up. “Todoroki, would you mind joining me? This carpet looks expensive, and I wouldn’t want it to be ruined. It would most likely upset Bakugou greatly.” She requested calmly. Half n’ half looked away from the corner he had tucked himself into, nodded, and rushed over to help her, taking the sponge she had just produced from her hands, dabbing it onto the carpet.

All Might tried to get through to them, but eventually, he took the hint. Maybe he realized that they needed to do work with their hands to keep hold of their sanity, he had given up on stopping them, or he finally agreed with the notion that his carpet needed to be cleaned, and he got onto his knees and helped them. It did wonders, and the carpet was almost completely immaculate.

“I’ll stick this in the washing machine, on low. It’ll get everything else out. I’ll just make some stain remover.” She said, walking out the door, holding his carpet in hand like it was made with the finest silk, made for the most precious royal. Though he knew it was selfish in the situation they were in, he felt more cared for than he had in his entire life. It filled him up with warmth, the kind talked about in cheesy romantic movies that he may or may not have watched compulsively. A near-smile lit up his face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

What was going to happen to Eijirou? Could he die if his head injury got any worse?

He suddenly felt sick to his stomach. For a second, he seemed to entirely fade out of existence, like he was well and truly dead.

But, that wasn’t possible.

It couldn’t be possible.

…

Could it?

Chapter Text

Noon. Wow, it felt like an eternity had passed, like a million things had happened since the last time it was noon. They would definitely come out changed after the monumentally shit week they had. (Pardon the language) Shouto was fed up with the situation they were in. How he had avoided having an emotional breakdown so far was beyond him. Still in denial? Possibly. But considering where he was, that seemed unlikely.

It didn’t help his sour mood that he was being smothered by the abundance of people gathered in the same room as him. Not that he was entitled to the hospital room all alone, but did three other people have to cram themselves into a small room? Well, one of the three was the wounded person in the hospital bed, but the two others certainly were not.

Of course, Aizawa was one of the ones there, that was to be expected from the paternal figure. But, who he didn’t expect to be there was Yaoyorozu. He wasn’t complaining, obviously, she was a light in a very dark world, but he didn’t think that she was that close with him. Then again, she was possibly the only reason that Kirishima was still alive. Sure, he’d tried to help, but really, he hadn’t done anything except make himself feel better about leaving Kirishima to get injured when he was supposed to be helping.

Although he knew Aizawa would give him the ‘are you kidding me, I’m so done with you idiotic children’ look for thinking he was responsible, but he couldn’t help what he was feeling. Inexplicable feelings had been a common theme as of late.

Hah, if his first-year self talked to him, he would be surprised by the copious amount of character development he had experienced. He didn’t even realize he had romantic feelings for Izuku until less than a day before. Look at him, on the verge of collapsing from sheer emotional exhaustion because his friend (yeah, he had friends!) had ACTUALLY collapsed. Everything had changed, and not for the better.

Well, it was for the better, that was until Bakugou died. Thankfully, Kirishima didn’t seem to be headed that way. He had woken up quite a few times, like most people who had fainted but had to be sedated for surgery, and as he sat in the uncomfortable, stiff, not at all cushioned chair, Kirishima was in the even less comfortable bed, sleeping off the drugs. The wound was healing nicely, Recovery Girl made damn sure of that, but that didn’t stop Shouto from worrying about him. Same with everyone else.

He hadn’t slept that night or any time in between. It wasn’t anything new, mind you, but thank God for the cough syrup concoction, or else he wouldn’t have gotten even a minute of sleep in 72 hours.

As it seemed, neither had the rest of the class and the majority of the third-year staff. They were all worried about Kirishima’s state. After all, there wasn’t a single person who had ever met him loved him, even villains. It was no wonder that they were so concerned. Aizawa especially. He was beside himself with worry, and Shouto could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen him blink since they arrived.

Unsurprising, as he could keep his eyes open for minutes at a time to make good use of his quirk, but he really needed to calm down and take a rest. He wasn’t one to talk, he was well aware, but Shouto thought that he deserved a good, fifteen-hour nap.

Technically, that would be defined as sleeping, which he so rarely did, which would make it that much more vital. The guy desperately required some good old-fashioned self-care, a skill he was sorely lacking in. Even Shinsou, the most self-destructive person Shouto had ever met had taken the day off, not even visiting Kirishima despite how much his damaged health stressed him out, or maybe because of that. Aizawa needed a lesson from his dear son on taking care of himself. How the tables have turned, indeed.

Since he didn’t have a death wish, Shouto shut his mouth and sat in place, in his uncomfortable chair. Distantly, he wondered why they weren’t alerted of Kirishima’s earlier. Subsequent to Bakugou dying and all that jazz, they had been joined at the hip. They had before anything out of the ordinary happened, as was apparent to everyone who bothered to glance their way, but it was different. Their boundaries had changed, for one.

Previously, he hadn’t entered Bakugou’s room unless it was a dire situation (long story from their second year, don’t worry about it) or they had a tutoring session, but it seemed like that was their go-to meetup place, and neither had any qualms about being there and, more than that, he was found in BAKUGOU’s room.

So, that raised the obvious question. Why didn’t Bakugou alert them in some way? Did he leave Kirishima to stay in his room unattended? That didn’t seem likely. No matter how much he trusted him, his room was his safe place. He never let anyone in there other than the redhead, and he would certainly never let anyone in there without his keen observation. Where was he? What was he doing?

The vague thoughts soon became louder and louder, until they were consuming him. What were they missing? Shouto knew for a fact that Bakugou would freak out if he witnessed the event, and though he wouldn’t ask for help for himself, he wouldn’t hesitate to call everyone in his contacts to help someone else, especially his best friend. (and maybe romantic partner?) New worries clouded over the other ones. One especially potent one in particular. Was Bakugou still on Earth? Or, more specifically, was he still a ghost?

Practically leaping out of his seat (and startling the other two conscious people in the room), Shouto ran to the bathroom. He needed to calm down, and he couldn’t do that while trying not to trouble Aizawa and Yaoyorozu.

Throwing water in his face, he tried to quiet his pessimistic thoughts. Spoiler alert, it didn’t fucking work. In fact, being alone just gave him more of a chance to overthink. It was possible, unlikely, as established, but possible, that Bakugou wasn’t in his room when Kirishima fainted, but why hadn’t he tried to communicate with them in the hospital. It would’ve been impossible to not discover Kirishima’s whereabouts if he was looking, and, unquestionably, he would be. He hadn’t shown up. Not even a gust of wind or a floating teacup to signal them. Nada.

There was only one possibility he could think of, and it wasn’t a pleasant one. Where had Bakugou disappeared to? “Damn it.” He muttered, stealing a page from Bakugou’s book. He had a mouth on him that day. Could you blame him? It had been a stressful few days for everyone. He slammed his fist on the slightly wet bathroom counter (it was because of the water he splashed on his face, okay?), fully pissed at that point. “Fuck!” He exclaimed, voice hollow and devoid of any real emotion.

Was he dissociating? Maybe. He couldn’t find it in himself to care either way.

For the next three minutes, he continued slamming the poor counter, nearly accidentally freezing the surprisingly expensive-looking sink with his left fist, swearing like a sailor, hissing out profanities even while catching his breath.

Thankfully, no one was watching his meltdown. It’d probably damage his reputation as a hero.

At least, he thought no one was watching, until he turned to the corner of the room to see a cellphone pointed right at him, most likely recording a video. At first, he assumed it was a media vulture, but that was before realizing that there was no one attached to the phone. Or, more accurately, he couldn’t see anyone attached to the phone.

His first thought was Hagakure, but that didn’t make any sense. Why would she strip down naked, leave the common room where she was taking care of her peers just to film him swearing?

No, this was someone petty, childish, and an avid cusser. “Bakugou?!” He exclaimed, less of a question than an exclamation.

Quickly, the phone turned around, to face Bakugou, he assumed. A few minutes of something he couldn’t see later, the phone turned back around with a message typed out on some sort of app called ‘notes’. It was a North American app, wasn’t it? Why would Bakugou install it?

‘I’m so proud of you.’ It read.

---

For the past half a day, (had it already been half a day? Apparently, time also flies when you’re having the worst day of your life) Katsuki hadn’t been doing anything but hovering and fretting. Normally, he would protest that he would ever ‘fret’ about anything, but he couldn’t help it. After all, his best friend had just collapsed and gave him a death scare. He wasn’t one to talk, as was clear just by his existence.

But, it wasn’t only the obvious problem that was stressing him out. The room was cramped, and the visitors allowed in the room were the most boring ones he could’ve chosen. Aizawa, the monotone teacher who gave up on life about thirteen years ago, Yaoyorozu, and although he loved her dearly, she was boring as hell, intelligent and silent, and brought nothing to the table with two other boring people, and, finally, Icyhot. UGH, enough said, really. The most silent, stoical, and dull person Katsuki had ever encountered. He was fatigued and in need of a break.

Thankfully, his prayers for something interesting happening were answered. Obviously, he didn’t actually pray, but he had hoped. Half n’ half hopped right out of his seat like an antsy rabbit and sprinted to some unknown location.

“Hey, no running in the hospital halls! It’s disrespectful to the sick patients and their worried companions.” He yelled in a mocking tone, cupping his hands around his mouth to project down the hall, making a stiff movement with his right arm, mimicking a certain bespectacled class representative. Maybe not being able to be seen or heard had its benefits. No one to scorn him, for starters.

Not to mention you could follow someone and snoop on them without their knowledge when they clearly didn’t want to be seen. It was even easier when they were in a real rush to get somewhere. Katsuki followed the peppermint prince to wherever the hell he was going, so sue him. It wasn’t like they had anything better to do with their time. The whole time, Icyhot kept running, and not a single staff member called him out on it. He wasn’t a goodie two shoes or anything, he only thought it was strange. Maybe robocop rubbed off on him or somethin’.

Only, he discovered that he was running off to the bathroom. Right, made sense, regular humans had to use it. He forgot about that little snag in the mess. He had boundaries, it was kind of his thing, so he made his way to leave.

That was, until he heard water running. Odd, no one else had entered, meaning he immediately started using the sink. From personal experience, you didn’t leave for the bathroom to go to the sick unless you were going through something. Still, it wasn’t any of his business, so he continued leaving. “Damn it.” Okay, what the fuck?

Screw boundaries, seeing as that dude had never said anything resembling a curse word before, and although Katsuki didn’t consider it to be a cuss, Icyhot, the fucking prude of a child, did. He had promised to never use the quote unquote, ‘vulgar, unnecessary language’ Katsuki used regularly. So, naturally, he zoomed into the bathroom at full speed, anxious to see what had caused such an outburst from him.

Surveying the surrounding scene, it was clear to him that Icyhot had been brooding and angsting in his little gremlin corner, which would usually be a sign for Katsuki to rush right back out with an eye roll for some extra sass, leaving him to deal with whatever existential dread he had about his father or whatever made him take it easy on Katsuki in their first year sport’s festival. (no, he had not gotten over that after two years. He was always one to hold a grudge) But, he was cursing, and Katsuki was curious.

Some water was spilled onto the sink, which he didn’t seem too eager to clean, again, unusual for him, and what was even more unusual was the banging-his-fist-on-the-poor-counter thing going on. He kind of wanted proof of his actions. “Fuck!” O-kay, he was getting the camera.

After spending a good half a minute getting Kirishima’s phone without comment from the remaining visitors, he returned to the bathroom, afraid he threw away his shot to see him swear on camera phone, but, as it turned out, Shouto had no intention of stopping any time soon. As unexpected as it was, it seemed like his cursing actually rubbed off on his classmates, as he hoped it would.

Honestly, Katsuki was on the verge of tears out of sheer joy. The colourful cursing didn’t die down for another three minutes, meaning he got two and a half goddamned minutes of footage of Mr. Stick-up-his-ass, Icyhot himself (great porn name) swearing.

Then he turned around to face him.

It took a while, but after a few seconds of increasingly hilarious confused faces, something clicked. “Bakugou?!” He exclaimed with actual expression and tone. Why did he sound so surprised? He was the first person to find out he was still around, why wouldn’t he suspect Katsuki to be nearby? Maybe it was the whole ‘recording him while using profanities’ thing.

Quickly, he turned his phone around to type something. Actually, getting on notes and typing it out wasn’t too much of a hassle, even with the enormous amount of focus he had to dedicate to it, but it was fun to watch the expression on his face, so he pretended to type for another couple minutes, looking at his unchanging expression, like the human equivalent of error 404. Soon enough though, he turned the screen back around. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

Taking after him and cursing like the world was ending.

An actual tear of joy slipped out.

Chapter Text

“Proud?” Asks Shouto, confused. “What do you mean by proud? What did I do? Actually, that’s really heartfelt. I don’t think you’ve ever said that before, (well maybe to Kirishima, but never to me) it means a lot.” He finished, sincerely touched. The phone turned around once more, furiously typing.

‘I meant I was proud of the swearing, dipshit. Fucking sap.’ Oh. His face reddened in embarrassment. Of course Bakugou would never openly show affection. ‘I have to admit, even I didn’t know some of those words. Not a single slur thrown in, yet I’m sure you never used the same word twice. Even your swearing was gentlemanly. Sickening, yet oddly impressive.’ Wow, Shouto was so done with him.

“If you must know, the ‘Dekusquad’ parties harder than you might expect. Iida is especially colourful with his… vocabulary. I prefer not to use it, but I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.” He said plainly.

‘Maybe I chose the wrong group, then.’ The phone read. He could almost hear his sarcastic tone through the text.

“Not the swearing galore you expected?” He asked with a cheeky grin. He had been working on showing emotion on his face. According to doctor Omori, the reason his expressions were so blank was because he was afraid of showing emotion in front of other people or something along those lines, he wasn’t paying as much attention as he wanted to, and was too afraid to ask her repeat what she said in case she thought less of him. Perhaps they needed to address that issue too. Anyway, he was trying to express himself, and it seemed to be working.

Although he couldn’t see his face, it was clear that Bakugou was having a blast with his facial expressions. Did that mean he was doing it wrong or right? He had no idea. ‘Didn’t expect it. Those kids watch PG-13 movies and didn’t learn what a blowjob was until Mina walked in on you and me. The worst company possible. I’d leave them if I had better offers for better company.’

Please, he was obviously lying with that one. Sure, they were weirdly accepting of his negative attitude, but nearly the entire class (the only exceptions being Hagakure and Ojirou, who he never seemed to grow on) would be happy to accept him into their friend group, yet he looked perfectly happy to stay with them. On one drunken night, he even admitted to four out of five of the other members of his squad being like his children. “You could easily get with ‘better company’.” Shouto said rather bluntly.

For a moment, the phone didn’t move. That was, until he started typing quickly and somehow loudly? He didn’t have typing sounds turned on, but he could hear how angrily he typed. Perks of being a rage-filled goblin, he supposed. ‘Shut the hell up. They’d have to rebrand. What a hassle.’

Considering he was someone who had seemingly no filter between his brain and mouth, he sure was a liar. Though, he had to admit that the Bakusquad would be a rather confusing name without Bakugou in it.

“You sure that’s the only reason?” Shouto asked him mockingly. He tapped on the phone case. Crimson Riot. Definitely not his explosion-proof, heavy-duty case. There was only one person in their class who loved the manly hero enough to look at his face every time they pulled out their phone. And, only one whose phone Bakugou would be comfortable stealing (Well, borrowing, but there was a fine line.) Yaoyorozu.

…

That was a joke. He knew it was Kirishima. Shouto may have been a bit on the dense side, but he wasn’t an idiot. He could follow a basic clue trail. The typing of a retort took longer than he expected it to. Either it was long enough to deeply wound him and dig into his physiological issues, or- ‘idiot.’

Okay, there was a chance it would be a bit lacklustre, but he expected at least some passion behind his retaliation. Was he seriously in such agreement with his unspoken statement that he was willing to basically go along with his claim without putting up a fight? Shouto was aware that they were much closer than any of the other squad members, much to their dismay, and there was definitely something going on between them, there was no doubt. But, he wouldn’t write something so uninspired if he cared about him as much as Shouto suspected. He’d be vehemently denying, knowing his emotional maturity level.

Which left just one other option; “You’re that smitten?!” He practically shouted at him. The one reason he’d be so muted about the fact that Shouto was clearly accusing him of feeling would be because he felt intense romantic feelings about the other boy. Not being embarrassed about it meant it was just that much more touching. He cared enough not to deny. It was a new level from him, and unlike Bakugou, Shouto was proud.

Honestly, he’d even go as far as calling himself gleeful. Maybe they could go on a ‘double date’. Shouto had heard that was what friends involved in separate romantic relationships did. Then again, he was no expert on what the average pair of friends did.

“Wait, have you told him how you feel?” Instead of immediately answering, he faltered. That was enough of an answer for him. “Why not?” He asked instead. Surprisingly, the phone turned around. It was fortunate he was sharing anything even tangentially related to emotion. He didn’t dare screw it up, so he kept his mouth firmly sealed.

‘Never seemed like a good time.’ Seriously? In all their time knowing each other, he never considered it a good time? It wasn’t like they were always around people if his issue was keeping it private, and they must’ve had some intimate moments where the timing would have been perfect. After the incident at Kamino ward, for example. What a lame excuse. He must’ve known that. Then again, he wasn’t the most self-aware person around. Shouto wasn’t one to talk, but still.

“How could there never have been a good time?” He asked with a slight laugh. In less than a few seconds, a witty retort showed on the screen.

‘Oh, no, you’re right’ reassuring start. ‘Between him running out of the building for four hours, having an awkward conversation about all the people I’ve slept with and general unconsciousness, I’m sure there was time for a love confession thrown into the mix.’ The sarcasm was easy for even someone as oblivious as Shouto to recognize over a screen. It was almost tangible.

Hold up a second. That was what had happened yesterday. Well, he couldn’t attest to the running away for hours, but the rest all happened since the evening he’d met up with him, after Izuku’s ill-timed confession of love. “You mean to say that you’ve only known about your affection for him for less than a day?” He took a shot in the dark for the exact time, but it looked to be correct. “That’s insane! You aim to be ahead of everyone, yet everybody in the class figured it out before you?”

The handle of a plunger stabbed him in his bruised chest. ‘Next time it will be the actual end of it on your face.’ He usually bluffed with his threats, but it seemed genuine, and Shouto certainly didn’t need an unhygienic plunger stuck to his face.

“You should tell him when he wakes up.”

No response.

Then the phone dropped. It was only thanks to Shouto’s fast reflexes that it didn’t fall to the ground and break. He half expected the reason for its falling was Bakugou putting his hand down rather quickly, but it didn’t look that way. He offered it awkwardly in front of him, but no one accepted it. Eventually, he picked it out of his hands. ‘You stuck it through my dick, dumbass.’ Oh, damn. He couldn’t really be blamed, but it was still embarrassing. His face went beet red, and he attempted to cover his face. ‘Worse body parts of yours have touched my dick, don’t get all flustered about it.’

Seriously? That was him trying to stop Shouto from getting flustered? “What happened? Why’d you drop the phone?” That was probably a stupid question. No one means to drop their phone. It probably slipped out of his hand or something.

‘Just thinking.’ Thinking what? About the crippling weight of existence, or how overpriced chips were nowadays? Had he never learned how to be more specific? Besides, thinking didn’t make you drop a phone. Most of the time, anyway. ‘It was irrational and shit, but…’ Still no specifics. ‘I just thought, IF he wakes up. It’s just hospital drugs keeping him knocked out. Nothing to worry about.’

… That got dark.

---

“Nothing to worry about?!” Icyhot yelled in response to his hesitant confession. Always the drama with him. It really wasn’t a big deal. A passing thought, really. It truthfully wasn’t even on his mind anymore.

In fact, he was doing better than before. His head wound had been fixed, the stitches taken out, and Recovery Girl overlooked it to make sure the same mistake wouldn’t be made. Eijirou’d be fine, and as soon as the anaesthesia wore off, he would be better than he’d been in months. Totally, 100% fine. Great. Amazing. Magnificent. Was he layering it on too hard? Maybe. But, he was just trying to stress his point.

He started typing once again. God, communicating only through his phone was such a hassle. Eijirou may have been a pain, putting every word he said through a ‘nice’ filter, but at least he could get the main point across, just with less swearing, nicknames and insulting people.

‘It really isn’t. Got lost in my head for a second.’ He was being honest, but Icyhot still looked skeptical. In a minute, he was leaving the bathroom wordlessly. Katsuki followed, if only to not be stuck in a bathroom. He may have had a reason before for being in there though he couldn’t actually use it for its intended purpose, but it was just uncomfortable after Icyhot left. Especially when another dude walked into one of the stalls. Yeah, he was not going to hover there awkwardly for any longer than he already did.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t communicate his confusion. People would be left completely bewildered seeing a floating phone magically typing, and he didn’t feel like dealing with a random stranger’s shock at that moment. Quickly, he went right back to the hospital room, placing Eijirou’s cellphone, which was thankfully maintaining a high percentage despite how much Katsuki used it, into his sweater pocket.

Suddenly, he realized everyone was staring at him. Right, a phone held by an invisible man, not knowing he was there because he was a ghost, and couldn’t interact with any objects since an hour beforehand.

“Hey, Katsuki. ‘Sup?” Holy shit.

What the fuck? “Eijirou?!” The redhead beamed at him weakly from the bed where he continued to lay. He was clearly exhausted, but that was to be expected after being unconscious for hours. “Are you okay? Sorry, bad question. Do you feel any residual-?” Rolling his eyes dramatically, Eijirou shushed him.

“I’m fine, really. Who knew you would be such a worry wart? And you make fun of me for it.” He said with a laugh. Visible exhaustion notwithstanding, he looked absolutely gorgeous. It took all his willpower to not say as much out loud. After all, there were other people in the area. Sure, they couldn’t see or hear him, but Eijirou’s face would go hella red, if history repeated itself. He was too easily flustered, and he didn’t feel like saying it in front of others.

For once, he actually wanted to take the peppermint bastard’s advice. He wanted to tell him how he felt, but telling him half-asleep in a hospital seemed like the least romantic thing he could’ve done, so he kept his mouth shut.

Soon, Raccoon Eyes came into the room, looking anxious as all hell. He couldn’t blame her. She did walk in on him while he was bleeding out on the floor. Apparently, she texted Aizawa, so she was the reason Recovery Girl could get to him so quickly. Everyone on the scene deserved his thanks. Not that they would ever receive it. He was far too stubborn for that. Although, he had to admit, if only to himself, that he wanted to give every one of them a hug, despite not being a hugger whatsoever.

“Eijirou! Oh my god, you’re okay.” She dived right on top of him, winding him for a second. He brushed off her apology, wrapping his arms around her in return.

“Mina! What’re you doing here?” He said, slurring his words slightly. “I thought you weren’t one of the visitors.” Huh. That didn’t occur to Katsuki at all. There were only three visitors allowed, save for dead ones, and Icyhot hadn’t come back to them.

“Yeah, Todoroki tapped out, I guess. Went back to his room.”

Oh, god.

What was he planning?

Chapter Text

Eijirou woke up.

Everything was fuzzy. Dark, too. He tried to focus and see what was around him, but nothing worked. What the hell was going on? Did he go blind? Oh, fuck, he went blind. How did tha happen? Where was he?

Soon, after panicking needlessly, he realized that his eyes were closed. Welp, he felt like an idiot, and rightfully so. It was weird, since he could barely feel that his eyes were closed. Which raised the question, how the hell was he going to open them? For a minute, he laid in darkness, unable to do much of anything, until awareness of his surroundings slowly started reaching him.

Noises were scattered everywhere, from a steady beeping, rustling of papers, footsteps, to hushed voices coming from an unidentifiable source, but nothing in particular stood out to him. All in all, it was pretty silent. Peaceful. It unsettled Eijirou. He was used to waking up to twenty other people screaming their lungs to hell, half of them just being noisy, and the other half shutting the others up with their even louder voices. It was never quiet, that was the only constant in 1-A.

Where was he? He tried to recall the last thing that had happened. He was talking to Katsuki about dissociation, and Katsuki apologized for having too much tea. Eijirou felt guilty and overreacted, and that was it. Recalling the incident didn’t help with anything except making him feel ridiculous for exacerbating the situation.

Instead of focusing on that feeling, he tried to focus on his physical sensations. A slight tingling in his arm and his neck stung a bit, but overall, he felt better than he had in a while. There was no unforgiving pounding in his head, and his wounds didn’t feel awful, like they had since he woke up days before. He probably should have talked to Recovery Girl, their school nurse about his discomfort, but he didn’t want to worry Katsuki in the process. Then again, he’d end up worrying a whole lot more if he got severely injured. He’d talk about it after he could open his eyes again.

Although Eijirou felt a lot better, he felt slightly nauseous. Not enough to warrant concern, but it was uncomfortable. He rarely experienced nausea, and he’d feel bad complaining about it, especially knowing how badly Uraraka got it.

Finally, he managed to crack open his eyes. He felt pretty lazy, which was, again, unusual considering how unfailingly energetic he was, so he didn’t manage to keep them open for long. Besides, the light was blinding. Well, it wasn’t actually that bad, but after waking up, light seemed much brighter than it really was.

Logically, he knew he should’ve squinted until his eyes adapted, and he could keep them open, but he didn’t feel like using so much focus, so he quickly opened his eyes and forced them to stay until they watered so profusely that he had no choice but to close them. He knew what Aizawa must’ve felt like trying to stop himself from blinking. At least Eijirou didn’t have to worry about consequences if they closed. Blearily, he managed it. The hushed voices became more defined

Eventually, he realized that it wasn’t just his senses heightening, but the voices were actually raising. There were two blobs in front of them, one completely black other than a slight grey streak, and the other black and maroon. Very aesthetically pleasing. He then concluded that they were speaking about him, or to him. He wasn’t quite sure which. “Is he awake? His eyes are open!” Yaoyorozu’s voice.

The completely black one shifted, and soon became clear enough to define as Aizawa. “Kirishima? Can you hear me?” He asked softly.

“Yup, loud an’ clear, teach.” He responded, blending his words a little, but not so much that they couldn’t be construed. It may have been delirium, but he could’ve sworn he saw the serious man smile. But, of course, that was impossible. Then again, he thought the same of Katsuki until getting to know him.

“Do you know where you are?” Finally, some much-needed clarification. It was actually pretty obvious where he was with a little looking around. The heart monitor, the uncomfortable bed with even more uncomfortable-looking chairs, the distinct lack of people.

God-damn it, what the hell did he manage to do to himself that time?

Clearly, he was in a hospital. The question was why.

Part of him didn’t want to know.

“It’s a hospital. Which hospital is it? What happened to me?” He looked around. Not only were there merely two people, but there weren’t any non-people. As in ghosts, of course. Katsuki was absent. He had no obligation to be around, but he expected him to be. Katsuki hadn’t intentionally left his side once unless he asked for privacy. Even then he’d been reluctant. “Where’s Katsuki?”

They eyed each other warily. “He’s not here?” Yaoyorozu asked, making sure not to worry him, clear by her gentle tone. Right, no one except Eijirou could see him. Still, they would’ve assumed there was some sort of signal, wouldn’t they? He immediately got worried. Could you blame him? Aizawa quickly changed the subject by answering his first two questions.

“We’re at a hospital UA owns, with doctors that fixed your sutures, not worsen it.” He said with a slight bitter edge to his tone. Clearly he was just as upset about the wound dehiscence as Recovery Girl, which was saying a lot, considering her deadly gaze after telling her his symptoms. “And you passed out, thanks to various symptoms that you didn’t mention.” He explained with a hiss, his eyes turning red, as they usually did when he got angry. That time, his rage was certainly directed at Eijirou. He deserved as much.

While trying to cover up being hurt to avoid worrying people, his symptoms got so bad that he passed out? Karma was a bitch. Wait, that explained why Katsuki wasn’t around. Fuck, since he fell unconscious while talking to him. He must’ve scared the shit out of him! Whenever he got too frightened to cope, he went to Eijirou, as he was the only one who he trusted enough to do that with, but he was the one causing the fear.

Upon seeing his guilt-stricken face, Aizawa calmed down, eyes going to their usual black. “The damage wasn’t too bad, but your neck got nicked against a desk. The worst of it was blood on a white carpet.” THE white carpet? Oh, shit. That was the part of his room that Katsuki loved the most. Did he ruin that, too?

“Don’t worry,” Yaoyorozu started with a laugh. She had no idea how much he loved that carpet. They bought it together a year ago, and his jaw dropped as soon as he spotted it. Soft and fuzzy, complementing his room, whatever that meant. Eijirou may have been gay, but he had no sense of style, as you could easily tell, if only by the existence of his crocs. “I needed a distraction from the stress of your passing out, so we removed the blood from the entire room. The carpet is being hung to dry as we speak.” Holy hell, she was so thoughtful. Wait, needed a distraction? Did his getting injured cause so much stress that she needed to wash a carpet?

Not his usual coping mechanism, but whatever worked for you, man.

Guilt crept up on him once again. God, he was such a terrible friend, to Katsuki especially. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to cause so much stress. I didn’t think the symptoms were worth mentioning, it was-” Aizawa interrupted him. Fair enough. It was unmanly to make excuses.

Why did he have to go and mess everything up all the time?

---

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Huh? “You were the one who got injured. It was our fault for neglecting your injury. I apologize for getting upset earlier, I’ve just been worried, that’s all.” He clarified. Oddly enough, Eijirou felt convinced by his explanation. After all, he was never one to lie. But, he wasn’t about to let Aizawa blame himself for his faults. Plus, the guy needed comfort.

Eijirou was about to give it to him, but he got shut down quickly. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.” He assured. “But, you did scare the hell out of your classmates. Especially Uraraka, Kaminari, Iida, and Todoroki. They found you at the scene, and they didn’t have a quick response like Yaoyorozu did. Todoroki managed to help before she did, but it was an unwelcome reminder of the incident back at the Fatgum and Endeavour team up.” The guilt put Eijirou on the verge of tears.

Once again, Eraser was a softie and lamented his harsh words. “All you need to do is apologize. They’ll probably dismiss it as unnecessary, but at least it’ll let you express your guilt.” He suggested with a shrug, placing his hand on the back of his neck, a nervous habit he developed a while back.

Finally, Eijirou could entirely on his teacher’s appearance. He was shocked by what he saw. Every day, Aizawa would dress it in what seemed to be identical versions of the same, black, baggy clothes that did nothing to show off his muscular form, and the only other thing he would dress in was his hero costume, which was basically the same thing with yellow goggles, but he looked to be in civilian clothing. They were in a public place, after all, hospital or not, it would’ve been inappropriate showing up looking like he hadn’t showered in weeks.

His hair was up in a messy bun, longer than he had seen before, as he hadn’t received a haircut in years. It was an unusual, but welcome sight. It suited him well. Come to think of it, Eijirou hadn’t seen his hair up since he convinced their parents to let them enter the dorm system. (Not looking like a homeless man in a caterpillar costume would help convince snobby parents, he guessed. His moms would’ve actually been more convinced to let him in if he showed up in a sleeping bag) His clothes weren’t much of an improvement, but he supposed a grey outfit and jeans would be more acceptable than his usual clothes. At least they didn't smell like cheap cologne and liquor.

“Looking good, Eraser.” Eijirou commented with a bright smile. He then realized by Aizawa’s baffled expression that the comment came out of nowhere. “I just - sorry - my vision’s been out of whack, you came into focus right now, that came out of nowhere, sorry.” Apologizing twice. Totally pathetic.

The older man rubbed his temple, muttering a rushed ‘thanks’, face flushing a bit. Soon enough, his head shot up, previous embarrassment seemingly forgotten. “You mean you vision has been blurred, and you didn’t think to mention it after the conversation we JUST had?” Uh, whoops? Crap, he didn’t mean to anger him more than he already had. He tried to rectify the situation.

“I didn’t even think about that, it slipped my mind, honest!” He pleaded, raising his hands above his head, which was difficult considering he was still laying down. Aizawa was done with him at that point, collapsing into his seat. He changed the subject, hoping to cut the tension.

“You said Todoroki was upset about me passing out, right?” He nodded, sitting back upright. “So, where is he?”

“Uh, he just left. He was sitting here restlessly since last night, and suddenly ran away.” Yaoyorozu chimed in, explaining in Aizawa’s stead. “He didn't say where he was going, but he leapt right out of his chair and ran into the hall. About a minute before you woke up. Maybe he could sense it?” She joked with a forced smile. That was odd. Why would he leave? Especially after waiting for so long.

He reached into his sweater pocket, where he last left his phone, but it wasn’t there. He was about to ask them if the hospital took away his personal effects, but the words caught in his throat.

A light entered the room. A beautiful, gorgeous light that demanded to be admired. One that made the world pause for a second.

A light that just so happened to have his phone on him.

Katsuki.

Chapter Text

Mina had been pacing in the hospital’s waiting room for longer than she’d care to admit. Then again, she wasn’t exactly sure how long her and the rest of the group had been in the hospital. The group being Denki, Hanta, Iida, and Kyouka. Apparently, Kyouka had heard the thud, and got frazzled because of it, which was why she didn’t answer her phone when their mutual rich friend had tried to call her.

Fortunately, Eijirou wouldn’t sustain any permanent damage, as long as he didn’t pick at his neck. She knew all that was going to happen was him waking up from anaesthesia-induced unconsciousness. Anticlimactic, really, considering how worried they were, but she couldn’t help but feel worried.

So, she stayed in the waiting room, knowing full well there were strict limitations set for visitors. Even odder, four others did the same, idiotic thing. Ochako had been there originally, but after learning the visitor regulation, naturally, she left. Not only was it completely pointless, but their classmates were upset and concerned, less so than in previous days, but still not a normal amount, and they were much better at coping with stressful and terrifying situations in groups. They were abandoning their classmates.

Okay, maybe she was being a bit paranoid, but that was what it felt like she was doing. Mina needed the comfort of being right next to him in case something went wrong, even if, logically, she knew that nothing like that would occur. Maybe the others were there for the same reason? Maybe not, but it made her feel better knowing it was a possibility. She’d feel like less of an idiot.

After hours of pacing, her friends were concerned her legs would atrophy, but thanks to the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she couldn’t feel a thing. It would catch up with her eventually, certainly, but thankfully, that was temporarily interrupted, by none other than Todoroki Shouto.

“Hello Mina.” Why was he there? He should’ve been watching over Eijirou, like he was so determined to do before. She would’ve asked him, but he was already starting to explain. “I have recently discovered something, and I need to return to the dormitories, my room, specifically.” He said blankly, not bothering to elaborate any further on what he had discovered. Not that Mina was all that interested, but it would’ve been nice for him to show some consideration.

“Okay,” She said slowly, confused as to why he came all the way down to the waiting room to tell her. He looked as if he had just had an epiphany.

“Oh, right, I suppose I forgot to say why I’ve told you this.” Jesus, was he a fucking mind reader? Actually, that didn’t fit. He was far too oblivious. WAIT, WHAT IF THAT WAS AN ACT TO COVER UP HIS TELEPATHY?! Damn, she was getting off track. The marijuana definitely should’ve worn off by then. “You’re in.” Never mind, he was too oblivious and vague to be a mind reader.

“What?” She asked, oh so eloquently.

“To visit Kirishima. He’ll wake up pretty soon, I think. Only three visitors allowed, remember?” What, remember the fact that had been consuming her every thought for the past who-knows-how-many hours? Nooooo. “You’re of course the first person I thought to ask. Unless you have someone else in mind?” He asked so genuinely not-joking it almost made her laugh. Almost. Instead, she cried, nearly jumping out of her seat, and running straight to the stairs.

Before coming right back, that was. “Which floor and room number?” She asked the heterochromatic man in the nicest tone she could bear mustering at the time. He quickly gave her directions and ushered her away as he went his own way.

Entering the hospital room, she immediately knew Todoroki left at exactly the wrong time. Not only was Kirishima going strong, but he, at some point after Todoroki had left to do whatever he deemed more important, had awoken. “Eijirou! Oh my god, you’re okay.” She couldn’t help it, she leapt right onto the bed and wrapped her oddly pigmented arms around him.

Unfortunately, that impulsive instinct was even less thought out than Mina had originally thought, and she ended up mildly winding the poor boy.

Apologizing superfluously, Mina attempted to back off, but Kirishima was having none of that nonsense, and wrapped around her waist even tighter. She held back a sob of relief, instead sinking further into the comfortable pressure encompassing her. And, though it was irrational, she had the feeling there was a pair of eyes boring into them. It made her feel a modicum of discomfort, but she ignored it, choosing instead to continue hugging her best friend.

Eventually, she realized that the person watching them was most likely an actual entity. Considering the circumstances, it was probably Katsuki. It was odd that his eyes would linger on their embrace for so long. ‘Maybe he’s jealous.’ her mind supplied acerbically.

Despite having an amazing boyfriend whom she was ecstatic to be with, she couldn’t help the jealousy that occasionally flared up when someone was interested in her old flame. Oh yeah, Mina and Eijirou dated a while back before he confessed guiltily that he wasn’t interested in her romantically. They split amicably, and oddly enough, got on as friends without awkwardness, and thankfully, the temporary heartbreak led her to Hanta, who, honestly, she already fantasized about marrying. She was glad the breakup happened, really, she was.

Still, even the most insignificant of flings (Eijirou wasn’t one of them, but it was admittedly short, thanks to him trying to protect her heart like the amazing guy he was) could upset you if they were interested in someone else. Especially if that someone was a talented classmate who she was already envious of, and they were clearly intensely homo for each other.

Yes, she was referring to PopRocks.

The ship name the girls (and Todoroki) had come up with months before any of… this… had occurred, PopRocks, was fucking genius. While one part of her was screaming to hiss until Bakugou left the room, the other part wanted so desperately to push the two idiots together.

She couldn’t, considering one of them was literally deceased, and as such, non-corporeal, but she could metaphorically speaking. Telling them that they had the hots for each other was technically an option, but she knew from personal experience that two people couldn't be pushed together, that they needed to go through a whole journey of their own, painful as it could be. That was what happened to her and Hanta, after all. So, she just managed to resist both urges.

Minutes of hugging later, Aizawa rolled his eyes dramatically and separated the besties, much to the dismay of Mina, Eijirou, and Momo, weirdly enough. Apparently, she was a sucker for friendly hugs.

Soon enough, a nurse came into the room, surprised Kirishima had woken up. Evidently, not a single person remembered to call the nurse to the room after he managed to wake up from his anaesthesia-induced sleep. What a support team they had. She wanted to take an evaluation and rushed them out of the room.

Again, she felt a pang of jealousy, just because Katsuki could stay in the room without the nurse even acknowledging him, able to watch over Eijirou when Mina couldn’t. Goddamn lucky bastard. It was after she had already left the hospital that she realized what a horrible thing that was to be resentful about. The only reason that she couldn’t see him was because he was dead. Thank god she hadn’t said anything out loud.

Oh, well.

Maybe when she got back to Height’s Alliance, she’d check on Todoroki. No, more likely she’d fall fast asleep. After all, they had school on the next day.

Shit.

She hadn’t studied whatsoever! Aizawa sensei was gonna kill her.

---

Fuck, Katsuki was watching Mina and Eijirou hugging for a long while. It may not have shown on his face, like, whatsoever, but Eijirou must’ve been creeped out. He was being totally weird. Even Raccoon Eyes seemed to be uncomfortable, and she couldn’t see him to begin with. It was like she could sense how much of a weirdo he was being.

Although, even after realizing just how long he had been staring at them, he couldn’t find it in himself to look away. How hypocritical. He told everyone else to mind their own business whenever they looked his way when he was doing something that could be considered remotely vulnerable, but the minute people started platonically hugging, he kept his unblinking eyes on them? Completely unfair. And yet.

There was an emptiness that overwhelmed him, clawing at his insides, and he had no idea how to cope, or what was causing it in the first place. It was a sensation he was all-too familiar with, yet he had never grown used to it, or managed to determine what it was. The cloying, sappy scenes of public displays of affection always made him feel that way. It wasn’t exactly disgust, not quite envy, just an aching, desperate hollowness, longing to be filled. But by what? Sometimes it felt so bad he wanted to tear off his skin and dissect himself to find the culprit, other times it felt satiated.

It was completely overwhelming whenever he was touched, sometimes in a bad way, sometimes in a good way, somehow. He didn’t understand it, but whenever he was alone and without physical contact, his body was screaming for it.

Watching them touch each other so naturally, like it was no big deal that they were clinging to the other like they were trying desperately to huddle up and seek warmth on the coldest day of winter. Penguins. That was it, that was the animal metaphor he was searching for. Or any animal in the North or South Pole, really. It was freezing there.

What was he talking about?

Oh, right, hugs.

Just the word made his skin crawl and his heart cry at the same time. He felt weak and exposed, though no one could see him except the person he loved and trusted most in the world. How irrational was that? At that time, all he wanted to do was go and join the uncomfortably positioned hug, but he knew that was impossible. For a variety of reasons, actually. He could list them all.

First off, that would be weird. It was their private moment, and Katsuki had no right to interfere, no matter how much he wanted two. Secondly, as was previously mentioned, the position Raccoon eyes decided was best to put herself in was, you guessed it, uncomfortable as all fuck. Hospital beds were stiff and torturous as it was, and considering the angle they put themselves in, there was no way he was putting his already damaged and aching body through that kind of strain.

Finally, oh yeah, he was dead. It’d be pointless, make the other two feel all cold and shit, and most importantly, it would just be fucking awkward. Simply picturing it was enough to nauseate him.

There was no way in hell he would allow himself to be considered a sap!

Ultimately, they were pried off each other by his teacher, and though their position upset him before, he felt a sense of loss when they were separated, maybe more than they did. It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t have been feeling that way because someone else had to stop hugging. Gods, he felt stupid.

At last, after minutes of waiting, a nurse came into the room. She looked surprised for some reason. Wait a motherfucking second, did everyone, even sensei, forget to share the teeny little detail, THAT EIJIROU HAD FUCKING AWOKEN FROM HIS MULTI-HOUR SLUMBER, to the nurses who had a hard enough job as it was. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve chewed out the others in the room and thanked the poor, underpaid nurse, but no one could hear him except Eijirou, and any attempts at thanking the nurse would be met with confusion and possible terror.

Naturally, as she ushered the other out of the room, he stayed. Perks of being dead. (Yeah, there were perks, but only if you were a ghost, and as far as he knew, he was the only one) “Dude, isn’t this, I dunno, immoral?” Eijirou asked nervously. Jesus, he was too pure for their cruel world. Well, he had never actually considered if it was morally reprehensible. There had never been a case like his before. But, he didn’t feel like considering the implications of his actions.

So, he went for the obvious answer. “No.”

But, the other man wasn’t done with his first worry. “Is this allowed? What if the questions she asks are personal?”

“What the hell don’t I know about you at this point?” It was a rhetorical question, as he didn’t really want to know if his best friend was hiding something from him. “Plus, you need me in here,” he wasn’t entirely pulling this reasoning out of his ass. “You don’t even remember what you’re allergic to.”

“Fine, you can stay.” He was trying to sound aloof, or like he was being forced, but it was clear he was excited he was sticking around. Despite himself, Katsuki felt a twinge of affection.

Fucking hell.

For once in his life, he’d admit it, Icyhot was right.

He had it bad.

Chapter Text

The evaluation was simple and routine. Admittedly, there was no real reason to make Katsuki stay, but Eijirou felt a lot more comforted with him in the room, as stupid as that fact made him feel. Besides, he was right, Eijirou couldn’t remember the basics of the evaluation that anyone should’ve known.

“Allergies?” He had absolutely no idea. His memory was pretty shit, and he was always too busy beating himself up for being weak despite his defensive quirk to listen to doctors, even with something as fundamental as allergies. Thankfully, he was nearly never alone in a doctor’s office since gaining the best bro a guy could ask for, and ever since the first of many incidents where Eijirou forgot necessary questions, Katsuki made a point to memorize his entire medical record. (with his permission, obviously)

From what Eijirou knew, his immune system was much better than the average person’s, so it was possible he didn’t have any. He knew that at one point in his life, he went to an allergy clinic, but it might’ve only been a confirmation of what they suspected, that he was perfectly healthy. “Cosmetics and red wine. Reactions to other alcoholic beverages are unknown, considering, as of yet, you haven’t had any other ones,” Wow, it was kind of eerie how much he remembered. Really, Katsuki had grown so much since the beginning of their first school year. He was constantly helping Eijirou out, and he couldn’t thank him enough. “Because you’re a coward.” Okay, scratch ‘grown so much’. What a brat.

“Seriously, dude, you’re almost eighteen! At this point, if you haven’t had a sip of alcohol other than mommy’s wine, you’re just lame.” He hated to admit it, but he wasn’t entirely wrong about that. Still, it didn’t warrant his extreme reaction. While he burst out laughing, Eijirou grimaced with a death glare for extra intensity.

Then, he realized that the nurse was still in the room. The nurse whose question he hadn’t answered, and was watching him glare at nothing. It was clear that she was barely holding back her judgment. “Uhm, sorry, just trying to remember what it was exactly.” That wasn’t much better. Who took an entire minute to recall what they had an allergy to? “Red wine and cos…” Crap, what was the word? What did it even mean?

The poor nurse looked so confused. Katsuki was starting to get pissed. Granted, that didn’t take much effort. “Cosmetics!” At his confused expression, Katsuki softened a nearly undetectable amount. Katsuki sighed exasperatedly, but, thankfully, that meant he was going to, albeit reluctantly, explain. “Makeup?”

Oh, right, that was the reason he was sent to the allergy clinic in the first place. Unfortunately, that evoked a not-so nice memory of an… adverse reaction to his mom’s foundation. “Cosmetics.” He repeated.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to have mispronounced the word, and the nurse jotted his allergies down on her clipboard. He felt bad for making her job so much harder than it needed to be. Vital jobs like hers were hard enough as it was. “Okay, I think that’s all. Sign these papers, and you can be discharged. Have a nice day, kid. Don’t get into any more trouble, you’ll give your friends a heart attack.” She added on her way out the door, like he didn’t already know how much he worried them.

Quickly, he put his signature on the discharge papers, returned them to where they needed to be placed, and headed right out. “Finally! That place was a goddamn hellhole.”

“You could’ve left, y’know.” Eijirou said like that option wasn’t obvious. He wanted to know why Katsuki had stayed that long, despite clearly not having any sort of fondness reserved for the hospital, hardworking staff notwithstanding. Even when he had been impaled because Shigaraki was a jackass, he had been all-too eager to leave his bed. It was no secret how much he hated the place.

“I know, but…” He paused. Hesitated. Bakugou Katsuki never hesitated, never wavered. It was a constant in their uncertain world, making it that much more unsettling. “It was a downer, everyone all upset and scared out of their minds.” Another pang of guilt. “That’s all. Didn’t know where else to go.” He finished, shrugging.

Oh.

My.

God.

Was he that worried? He was clearly lying, which meant that Katsuki only went because he concerned him with his passing out. Shit, he was a pretty terrible friend, wasn’t he? Who hadn’t he hurt in his recklessness? Maybe he should’ve looked up the symptoms of infection, or accepted a pamphlet or something. It would’ve been helpful. Even Katsuki, an absolute rock of a guy, (and Eijirou knew rocks) was worried enough to stay in one of his least favourite places over… morning?

Eijirou was about to apologize for what felt like the thousandth time that day, but they had already arrived at the dorms. There was no point causing a scene like that without enough reason.

Besides, Katsuki would definitely kill him if he started randomly apologizing in front of their classmates. Especially since none of them could see Katsuki, so he’d look ridiculous, shouting apologies at someone who no one except him could register existed. “So, everyone’s upset? Do you think being here’ll exacerbate the situation?” He asked him abashedly.

“You kidding?” He asked rhetorically with a disapproving scoff. Eijirou couldn’t tell if that was a yes or a no. “They’re upset because they were afraid you got hurt, of course it won’t worsen the situation if they see you’re perfectly fine.” He was surprisingly calm while speaking. He had a sort of sadness in his eyes, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the image from his brain. Katsuki was really, truly upset, and not just about Eijirou’s injury, but about the state it had put their classmates in.

As they opened the door, they were greeted with a sight Eijirou knew would piss Katsuki right off.

Midoriya was unconscious on a mattress, blood surrounding him.

---

How much of an idiot could Eijirou be, for god’s sake? Forgetting his allergies? The most common knowledge you could have about yourself, and he had no idea. How was it that Katsuki knew something about him that he didn’t? In a sense, it was somewhat romantic, (Yes, Katsuki liked romance, fuck you) but it mostly made Eijirou look stupid. Really, truly stupid.

Still, he couldn’t stay mad at the dumbass for long. After all, he was the one who was idiotic enough to fall in love with him. “So, everyone’s upset? Do you think being here’ll exacerbate the situation?” Never mind that. He was an irredeemable moron.

“You kidding?” It took all of his strength not to curse or yell, as that was what he was most accustomed to, especially when someone said something insane or ridiculous. He took a deep breath, trying to be calm and rational, despite the anger creeping up on him once again. Ever since he collapsed, and even before then, Katsuki had been inexplicably angry. Or maybe not inexplicably. He’d been so goddamn stressed, from everything. Eijirou getting injured, when he ran for an hour after he had accidentally confessed, everything that led them to the hospital, etcetera.

Another deep breath, and he responded as calmly as he could. “They’re upset because they were afraid you got hurt, of course it won’t worsen the situation if they see you’re perfectly fine.” Melancholy clouded over him, thinking of how his classmates were coping (or not coping) with everything that had happened.

Once again, a look of guilt crossed the redhead’s face. He needed to stop blaming himself for everything. It was getting annoying.

But, without him realizing it, they had arrived at the dorms, and he didn’t feel like chewing Eijirou out in front of everyone. They walked through the door, (well, Eijirou did) and were greeted by a sight Katsuki never wanted to see.

Deku, unconscious, surrounded by blood.

He saw RED.

Where was everyone? Where was Shouto, his fucking boyfriend? Why did no one stop it? There was something wrong, something was up, and Katsuki needed to calm down enough to figure it out, but, unfortunately, his rampant emotions were, once again, causing an unneeded problem. He couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t even tell whether he wasn’t breathing or hyperventilating.

“Dude, calm down!” Eijirou’s voice grounded him enough to take in some of his surroundings. “Let’s go and see what’s wrong, okay?” Jesus, wasn’t it obvious? He had dried blood everywhere around him, what else could’ve happened? Nevertheless, Katsuki complied, stepping forward.

He acknowledged that his panic got in the way of his rationality a good portion of the time, so he was willing to try anything.

Gently, Eijirou shook Deku. He wasn’t exactly sure what that would do, until the other boy stirred, sighing slightly and tossing. Jesus Fucking Christ, he was sleeping? That green haired nerd was never going to stop giving him heart attacks. “Oh, thank goodness.” Eijirou said under his breath. “What’s up with the blood, then?” Right, he almost forgot about that part.

“I… think it’s yours. From last night.” Katsuki responded grimly, a frown forming without his permission. “Ponytail and Icyhot got a whole lot of blood on their hands from the cleanup, and one of them probably got in on the mattress. Half n’ Half, I’d wager.”

“…” He was overthinking things again, wasn’t he? “Katsuki, I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, dumbass.” And for the first time in a while, Eijirou smiled. He liked that smile, he decided.

Chapter Text

For once, Eijirou and Katsuki decided to take a break and relax. Normally, both were more than reluctant to take a minute to breathe, but after the day, after the WEEK they had, both could acknowledge that it was lay-down time.

That time, Katsuki was careful to not let Eijirou race up the stairs, and when he inevitably tried to run, he gave him a glare that sent a literal chill down his spine. The last time he ran so quickly, he ended up unconscious and bloody against the corner of his desk, so you can imagine why he was hesitant to relive that mistake. “Bro, I’m really fine. You don’t have to worry about me. I got all fixed up.” He assured, even lowering his head and pointing to his practically undetectable scar from his stitches being removed, affirming the fact that he wasn’t harmed.

“I’m NOT worried.” He shouted in response. Eijirou flinched back from the volume, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty. At first. He softened upon seeing the defeated, guilt-stricken look on his face. “I… am not worried. I know you’re fine, it’s obvious. I was at the hospital, they cleared you, I know you’re fine.” Katsuki knew that. He repeated it like a mantra in his head.

Rationally, he knew it. Still, he couldn’t shake the image of his bleeding body out of his mind. He had never been affected like he was by that in his life. Other than the PTSD, but that didn’t count. Ah, fuck, was that incident going to star as a part of his chronic FUCKING nightmares?

Would he have to update his early sleeping schedule once more to adapt to a new torturous picture in his subconscious? For once, he was glad he didn’t need and physically couldn’t sleep.

“I felt the same way, y’know.” What the hell was he going on about? “Remember when Mina got stabbed?” Well, now that was completely out of the blue. What, did he just want to remind him how cursed their class was? Because, as he was literally dead where he was standing. Or, hovering, technically. He had no earthly idea why he brought it up at that time, nevertheless, he went along with it.

“Course I remember, it was pretty hard to forget.” He replied, making sure not to leave the snark out of his voice.

“Exactly. Hard to forget.” Jesus, was he bringing up the post-traumatic stress disorder thing again? He had already accepted that he had it, so why did he have to keep acting so concerned about the whole thing? “Logically, I know she’s okay. After all, it’s been months since she was hurt… but that doesn’t stop me worrying about her because of it.” What? That was ridiculous, clearly insane. It had been nearly a year since it happened. A villain had threatened a civilian’s life while she was patrolling with Yoroi Musha, before he retired, Mina decided to intervene, and got stabbed in the process.

“That’s ridiculous. The scar has all but disappeared. The cut wasn’t even that deep, a few stitches, and she was fit as a fiddle.” He said simply, already brushing off whatever he was trying to assure him of.

Surprisingly, instead of berating him for being ‘insensitive’ or ‘not listening’, he just nodded, resigned. “Yeah, it is pretty stupid. I shouldn’t still be upset about it, should I? I shouldn’t want Mina to avoid patrolling, or overreact when there’s any sort of hostage situation, whether she’s involved with it or not. But, emotions don’t work like you want them to, and neither does your brain. They’re unpredictable, and, as I’ve mentioned, stupid as hell.”

What was he getting at? “It’s okay to not want me to repeat some of the things I did before passing out. I’m not judging you because you don’t want it to happen again. Actually, it’s the opposite. I’m glad you’re concerned about me.” Really? He was? Why? He took the confused look on his face completely wrong.

“Oh, god, um, sorry! That sounded terrible. I don’t want you to be upset, I’m simply glad you care about me that much.” Oh my god, this man would never stop playing with his heart, would he? Never intentionally, obviously, but nevertheless, he did. Eijirou was too fucking adorable for comprehension. Of course, he didn’t give a flying fuck that Eijirou cared that Katsuki was concerned about him. Well, he did, actually, but not in a negative way. If anything, he was flattered. In fact, if Katsuki didn’t learn how to cover up his emotions at an early age, he would’ve been visibly flustered.

“Shut up, I don’t care.” Eijirou exhaled rather aggressively, clearly exasperated and hurt. “Shit, I just meant… ah, fuck, um… that was, I dunno, nice? You were… nice. Sorry, I’m not great at talking about this stuff.” Katsuki said. Or, said was a strong word, since, Wow. That was probably the most ineloquent sentence he had ever said aloud, and he was once a baby, believe it or not.

“Yup…” He finished awkwardly, tapping his sweaty-ass nitroglycerine palms against his sweatpants, that for some unknown reason, was part of the outfit that was on him when he became a ghost.

“That’s unexpectedly sweet of you.” Shut the fuck up, you gorgeous angel. He had an image to maintain, for gods’ sake. He wasn’t sweet, he’d never been sweet. It was like a rule the universe had made; ‘Katsuki can never be regarded as anything even closely resembling kind.’.

“Fuck you.”

“Love you, too.”

---

“Love you, too.” He replied with a shit-eating grin and feigning a honeyed tone. Okay, he may have been excellent at hiding his emotions, but, despite him obviously making a joke, Katsuki was head-over FUCKING heels for him. Imagine, if you would, that your crush, the person you LOVE, who you weren’t sure if they reciprocated your feelings, had a deep, meaningful conversation with you, or merely talked to you, how would you feel? Now, depict them saying ‘I love you’, in whatever context you’d like. It was only logical that Katsuki flipped out, really.

Now, in fact, Katsuki wasn’t one to ‘flip out’, mind you, but by his standards, he totally did. It was obvious from the way he was covering his face with his forearm that he was blushing intensely, as he used his other arm to scratch the back of his neck subconsciously, a nervous tick he developed, and Eijirou knew it too.

Unfortunately, as soon as he caught himself on it, he decided to occupy his hands with something else, he started messing with his hair, running his hand through it, another clear sign of embarrassment. There was no way he was getting out of it, not easily, at least. Eijirou knew him too well, knew his tells when he was lying, and knew his tells when he was trying to cover up those tells, and for once in his life, he regretted Eijirou knowing him so well.

“Uh, sorry, did I say something wrong?” He’d like to say ‘no’, but his face, bright red as a goddam cherry tomato, was a dead giveaway. “I didn’t mean to offend you or whatever-”

Finally, he summoned up the composure to interrupt him. "Yeah, it’s fine. You… surprised me. I didn’t expect you to say… I didn’t expect,” Katsuki cleared his throat awkwardly, not wanting to explain whatsoever. “I know it was a joke, I’m just not great with-” That time, he cut himself off.

“Huh?” Thank goodness, he was too dim to understand what was going on. Sure, he was emotionally intelligent, at least more than Katsuki was (not a high bar to stumble over, but still), but understanding emotions meant nothing if you couldn’t pinpoint the reason. You needed a healthy balance in to figure anything of importance out, in the situation they were in, at least. “You mean- Oh my god, I am so sorry, that was-”

“A joke, I know.” For some reason, Icyhot’s words rang in his head. ‘You should tell him when he wakes up.’ And for some, even stranger reason…

He felt the urge to comply.

“But, I felt that way, even if it was only a joke to you.”

Sometimes, he wished he didn’t consider anyone’s opinions like he used to.

Chapter Text

Eijirou had no idea what he did to offend Katsuki. Or, really, offence wasn’t quite the right description. He had never seen the expression and gestures which he was showing on him ever before. Sure, over the past eight days, he had seen him show many new emotions, but they were mostly completely understandable and easily identifiable. Terror, panic, and anguish. (Mostly caused by his parents’ visit) But, he had no idea what the new feeling was, much less the cause of it. What was a best bro to do?

“Uh, sorry, did I say something wrong I didn’t mean to offend you or whatever-” He pleaded, but it only further upset him. His face was flushed red, his palms were nearly dripping with how much they sweated. Why?! What was the cause? Eijirou tried to utilize his ability to understand what Katsuki was experiencing. He had developed many emotionally related tics over the years, known to very few, and he demonstrated three.

One, covering up his face. He often did that when he was trying to cover up unwanted emotions, usually calming himself down from unnecessary rage, thanks to his anger management, and judging from the unnaturally even breathing, he was definitely trying to remain calm.

But, it was clear it wasn’t anger, due to the second sign, with his other arm, he scratched the back of his neck, very openly, in fact. That wasn’t a habit he formed when he was angry, it was a nervous habit. Even more telling, when he inevitably caught himself on it, he preoccupied his hands with something else. He mussed his fucking hair. Tousling it rather aggressively. Katsuki had never developed that tic, but anyone who knew anything about human reaction could tell that was a sign of nervousness, stress, anxiety or embarrassment. Of course, he doubted it was the latter. The blond never ceased to surprise him, but he wasn’t one to feel bashful.

He was so caught up in analyzing his body language that he nearly didn’t process that he had interrupted what he was saying. He did that a little to often for his taste. “Yeah, it’s fine. You… surprised me. I didn’t expect you to say… I didn’t expect,” He said nothing else, leaving his sentence unfinished. He rarely did, as he always spoke his mind, and took a hell of a lot of pride in it.

Although he didn’t finish his sentence, unfortunately, Eijirou knew exactly what he meant, as soon as he gathered his thoughts. ‘Love you,’ He said foolishly, without thinking. How idiotic of him. He’d never live it down. Out of everyone he knew, Katsuki was probably the worst at showing affection. And, for god’s sake, he’d run into Shigaraki and Dabi on multiple occasions. Why would he think it a good idea to say those words like it was nothing? “You mean- Oh my god, I am so sorry, that was-” He struggled to find the words.

Apologies were not to be taken lightly by anyone, and since the needed words refused to leave him, for once in his life, he was glad that Katsuki interrupted him. “A joke, I know.” He knew? Then, what was the problem? “But, I felt that way, even if it was only a joke to you.”

Huh?

Okay, what the actual fuck?

Hadn’t he just thought about how bad Katsuki was at showing affection? Let me quote, if you will. ‘Out of everyone he knew, Katsuki was probably the worst at showing affection. And, for god’s sake, he’d run into Shigaraki and Dabi on multiple occasions.’ See?! And he knew he was right about that. He could only admit he was Eijirou’s best friend after over two years of knowing each other, and he still didn’t acknowledge how close he was with the rest of the Bakusquad.

Yet, after a mere joke, he was willing to admit he… loved him? No, there was something else going on, he was sure of it. There was no other reasonable explanation. “What do you mean?” He asked skeptically, bluntly asking what it was he wanted to know. Katsuki respected the truth and didn’t get quite as pissed off when they were honest.

Sadly, nothing in the world could keep him from being completely not pissed off. “What the hell do you mean, what do I mean? I thought it what pretty damn clear.” Had he been possessed? No, he’d be the one doing the possessing, considering he was the ghost.

“You…”

“Yes.”

“L-”

“Yes.”

“Love me?”

“For god’s sake, YES, do I need to say it again?” Oh. My. Lord! He was telling the truth. He wasn’t nervous, he WAS embarrassed, and he loved him. Holy shit, that was so sweet. He would have never expected it from Katsuki, of all people. Who would have guessed that their friendship meant that much to him? He certainly wouldn’t have. “Eijirou?” Fuck, he’d been too caught up in his thoughts to respond.

Speaking was his intention when he opened up his mouth, but all that came out was a rather humiliatingly high-pitched squeal. He didn’t bother hiding his joy, but it didn’t change much in his expression. “Oh my god, that’s so nice.”

For some reason, despite being the one who said it in the first place, he looked disappointed. “Nice?” He asked, uncharacteristically timid and quietly. Eijirou realized the sheer stupidity of his words. Katsuki completely opened his heart to him, and he responded with ‘that’s so nice’? What the hell was his problem.

“Seriously, that means a lot.” He reassured. Finally, Katsuki hesitantly removed his arm from his face. He wasn’t wrong in assuming he was embarrassed, at least. His face was still a deep shade of red, though he assumed it had died down from its original colour, surprising as that was, considering it looked to be near vermilion. He looked more nervous than he’d ever seen, which put Eijirou on edge, seeing as he hadn’t looked near as nervous after being targeted by villains more times than he’d bothered to count.

“Does it?’

Sighing, amused by his friend, with a roll of his eyes to top it all up, Eijirou responded. “No, it means nothing, I was definitely lying, as I’m the least sincere person you’ll ever meet.” He stated in the most monotone, most sarcastic tone he could muster. Katsuki still didn’t look soothed, only amused. At least he was smiling for the first time in a while. (Well, smirking, but it was the closest he got, really.)

“It’s great that you think so highly of our friendship.”

---

‘It’s great that you think so highly of our friendship.’ That’s what he had to say? So goddam excited about how Katsuki felt about him, and he thought he was talking about the completely platonic depth of their friendship. For fuck’s sake, that man really would be the death of him.

In his entire life, he had never been friend zoned. Usually, he had been the friend zoner, not the zonee. He didn’t want to hurt people like that, obviously, but, (not to brag) quite a few people, mainly women were attracted to him, and/or romantically interested in him, but since it was nearly never requited, he had to reject the dozens that confessed. And, no, that was no exaggeration, there were, in fact, near fifty who confessed to him per three months.

It was only when Eijirou said that soul-crushing sentence that he understood the genuine impact it had on someone’s feelings. It was all he could do not to wince in pain as a reaction. Imagine you had just handed someone your heart, in a moment of vulnerability that you would never share with anyone else, they accepted it wholeheartedly, handled it gently because that was just the type of person that they were, and then imagine that they accidentally crushed it painfully and quickly, entirely absentmindedly. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them it was broken, it would wipe the beautiful smile that you grew to love right off their face, and even the most heartless of monsters bear to do that.

How would you handle it? Katsuki knew exactly how he would. Plaster on a fake, awkward smile that would melt Eijirou’s innocent little heart, and nod and agree with his soul-crushing statement. Best friends. He could live with that.

Except for the fact that he really couldn’t live with that. He felt on the verge of tears. Was he designed to torture him? To make him pay for every cruel word he’d ever said, every bad thing he’d done? Was Eijirou, the picture of innocence and good intentions, sent from hell to torment him before his time came? Or, he supposed it would make more sense that he should’ve been in hell at that time, if it wasn’t for the mishap that turned him into a ghost. He deserved it, there was no doubt. So, how could he fight it?

Should he fight it? Should he simply accept that he was an awful being and fully embrace the pain? Who knows?

“Uh huh. Our friendship is… great. What a profound bond we have.” Could he sound any less sincere? Eijirou had been honestly sweet in replying to Katsuki’s not-really-a-confession confession, and he responded with borderline sarcasm? Hell no, that would not do. Especially after seeing his trademark upset pouty face.

“Whatever.” He finally decided on. “Just… don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?” Please, don’t. If he ever brought up that moment again, Katsuki didn’t think that his heart could handle the strain, particularly considering that it had been cracked and shattered into too many pieces to keep track of. Merely continuing talking to him was taking a grand effort, trying not to cry and all that. He would definitely need an hour or two to himself to expend his overwhelming emotions. No big deal.

Despite Katsuki trying to shut down his excitement at the situation in a few sentences, the golden retriever-like contentment remained, a dopey grin plastered on his face. Gods, who decided a human that pretty was allowed to exist? Katsuki certainly didn’t consent. “Okay!” He affirmed with enthusiastic nods, and Katsuki could practically see a wagging tail.

“I need a minute, okay?” He tried his best to ask for privacy, so he could cry in peace, and with a distinct lack of embarrassment while not offending him in the process.

“Of course.” Eijirou practically shouted in response, already running off to who knows where.

Great.

Katsuki, very calmly walked to his room. Yes, walked. He didn’t run or float or even hover; he planted his feet firmly on the ground, and walked at a reasonable pace to his room, even going up the stairs instead of the elevator, as to not attract anyone’s attention, as well as for the small amount of pleasure he derived from taking the stroll. He liked hiking, climbing, running, jogging, walking, and other cardiovascular activities as such. It gave him a burst of energy, a goal, a purpose, if only for that short period of time. It was something he desperately needed at that time.

If placing one foot in front of the other, a subconscious effort, was the only thing he could do without breaking down, then he would do it. He didn’t feel even the slightest bit of fatigue when he finished walking up multiple flights of stairs, like most people would. Of course, the reason for that was because he wasn’t a person at the time.

Walking at a pace he was in charge of regulating, in a familiar environment, one he felt comfortable and at home in, gave him some semblance of control, even when he didn’t have any. He breathed a simple rhythm. In for four seconds, hold the breath for another seven seconds, exhale for eight seconds. It controlled his emotions, for the time being. Control. He was obsessed with it, and he had lost it.

What kind of person lost the thing they were obsessed with it? Who would put their fate in the hands of someone who had clearly shown obliviousness to your feelings, indicating denial or disdain for said feelings, and expect them to react to you, placing your emotional stability on their shoulders? I’ll answer that for you. An idiot, that’s who. He had such impressive emotional control, only ever showing what he wanted people to see, and it all fell apart as soon as Eijirou came into the picture.

He always managed to change him when no one else would even dare try.

Most of the time, the change was for the best, sometimes, - most of the time really - he welcomed it. But then there were those rare occasions, which were completely accidental on Eijirou’s part, where he got him to cry.

And cry hard.

Chapter Text

Katsuki was overreacting. Even the blindest, most emotionally idiotic moron out there could see that, Katsuki himself included. He saw that clearly, even attempting to overcome his emotionally based reaction, but in vain. After all, who in the world could entirely control their feelings? (Repression doesn’t count, it’s not a valid, healthy coping mechanism) As he’d come to learn, the blond was absolute shit at trying to push them back.

Rationally, he was aware that wasn’t a flat-out rejection. Quite the opposite, in fact. He hadn’t specified which type of love he meant, and even if he had, it was NOT the time to spill everything. After all, he was dead, and they needed that little problem resolved without awkwardness. It wasn’t an insult when he said he appreciated how much he cared. It was a compliment, obviously. He felt the same way that Katsuki felt about him, at least platonically speaking. Because Katsuki did love him as a friend, too. It meant a lot to him, truthfully, it did.

Yet, that didn’t stop the tears. It was ridiculous and unnecessary, he was well aware. But, it was out of his hands, ‘cause when the fuck did anything go his way? Even dealing with the not-actually-a-rejection rejection hadn’t helped him.

Now, he was no therapist, far from it actually, he was an expert at ignoring his emotions until having a breakdown, but he got the feeling that his misery wasn’t entirely cause by Eijirou friend zoning him. He tried to dig deep and find out what could’ve been causing his distress other than the incident that occurred minutes before.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to dig too far. Fuck, he wished that he had never opened that can of worms. He decided to deal with all the shit that came to mind, he would therapize himself. “Now, what seems to be the problem?” He asked himself with a mocking tone. ‘Stop that,’ he reminded himself ‘this is serious, treat it as such.’ he berated. He took a deep breath in. It would be hard to get through it without making a sarcastic comment or yelling. Those were his only reactions that didn’t make him seem vulnerable or, dare I mention the word, emotional. He put others off by being angry, but he couldn’t intimidate himself out of helping… himself?

Complicated as that sounded, it was the only thing he could do. After all, an actual therapist couldn’t hear him, and he wasn’t going to have Eijirou translate when he was talking about private shit, especially when it was mainly concerning him, as far as he knew. “Well doc,” he began, unable to take it completely serious so quickly, when the concept of being his own emotional guide was so ridiculous. “I’ve been dealing with some fucked-up shit.”

Normally, a therapist wouldn’t tolerate that kind of language (or so he assumed, he had never really received mental help from anyone before, not even guidance counsellors, although he was still pretty sure he was equipped or qualified to deal with his amount of disturbing baggage), but he wasn’t in normal circumstances. “What kind of ‘fucked-up shit’ are you dealing with, specifically? Can you give me some examples?” he asked in the most serious tone he could muster. He felt so ridiculous, but he would do whatever worked.

Even if he had no idea if it would work at all. “Oh, I dunno, dying sucked, I guess.” That wasn’t good enough. But, he didn’t want to dig deeper. Whenever he ran into a problem, into trauma, he was always preoccupied with something else, and put it into a ‘for later’ box.

What would happen when he opened that box? It was full of things he had avoided dealing with since he was four years old, seeing auntie Inko’s body, beaten within an inch of her life by her dickwad of a husband. His very first traumatic experience, with many, many more to come. He didn’t know what he would do when he unlocked that long-sealed, nearly overflowing box, but he was willing to take that risk, if it was the only way to heal.

But, for the time being, he would only open the box labelled ‘the past week’. Yeah, there was a whole separate box dedicated to it. “Let’s start with the process of dying.” He suggested gently. That part was easy enough.

Getting it out was the hard part, and after he managed to say it out loud, it would get way easier. He hoped. “We went to the villain’s HQ, expecting an easy fight. A teachable moment, that was all.” He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the next part. “That wasn’t what happened, as you know.” It didn’t feel as awkward talking to himself like that than he thought it’d be. Actually, it was pretty therapeutic. His main concern with talking to someone about his issues, other than the obvious not-wanting-to-acknowledge-trauma thing, talking to a possibly judgmental stranger would make him far too anxious to spill anything of import. With himself, he already knew what he was going to say while still getting it off his chest.

Genius solution, if he did say so himself. “They had learned a thing or two from their last time with us, and brought a ridiculous amount of backup. They weren’t quite as powerful as other villains we’ve faced, but looking back, they were pretty tough. Like, ten times better than the thugs at the USJ. We took them out, but at the cost of everyone’s health and stamina.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. His voice was starting to waver, but he wouldn’t let himself cry. He couldn’t. He fought through the tears, breathing evenly to cool himself down.

“What happened?” He prompted in the most calm, gentle tone that he could force himself to use. Somehow, he felt somewhat soothed, at least enough to continue to the most painful part of that story. It wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to him, not by a long shot. But, dying wasn’t the part that scarred him.

He wouldn’t address that part though, he couldn’t.

---

Just another exhale and he could continue. “Endeavour (the douchebag), Icyhot and I were the only ones left standing. We all filed into the main room. We thought it was over. We thought everyone was down, but there was one left. There was only one person, and because one of us happened to miscount, it-” His few streaks of tears from before were replaced by full-on, non-stop sobbing. He could barely speak through his pathetic noises, even if he wanted to.

So much for not letting himself cry. “Take your time.” He managed to choke out, playing the typical therapist. It cheered him up and reassured just enough for him to pull himself together, if only to finish his sentence.

“It lead to the woman… Otsuka,” He recalled. “Sh- she… he couldn’t bring himself to make an entirely grammatically correct sentence, but all he needed to do was to get out the basic idea. He could do that. At the very least, he could do that. He had already failed his ‘don’t cry’ goal, so he was determined to make it through the bare minimum.

“Her gun… she pointed it at Eijirou, and he couldn’t harden since his energy was so depleted from our fight.” He knew the next part all too well, yet it didn’t make it any easier. Out of all the shit he had gone through since before he even knew how to read, watching his best friend too weak to defend himself from imminent death, and no one else was reacting. Why didn’t they react? He was about be murdered, and the trained, seasoned so-called professionals did absolutely nothing, simply leaving Eijirou to his deadly fate. “She turned off the safety, and I knew that was my chance.” He knew it would take a bit more than that.

“Your chance for what?”

Another pause. He really didn’t want to answer, but he knew that was the only way to move past everything that had happened, or at least accept it enough to start healing, cheesy as it sounded. “To take his place.”

“…” He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question he’d avoided since the beginning, since the whole mess started. Yet, he pushed through. That was just who he was.

“And what happened next?”

… What happened next? He could lie. Lying was a possibility.

Except it really wasn’t. He’d only be lying to himself, and he was quite aware of what he was really avoiding talking about. Besides, he wasn’t one to lie. It wasn’t in his nature. Anyone who had met him knew that all too well.

“Start from the beginning.”

If that was what it took, maybe he could do it.

Chapter Text

Shit. SHIT. God, Shitty Hair just had to be a moron once again, didn’t he? Was it a mental affliction? And, obviously, Katsuki, as was a recurring theme in his life, had to save that loser’s ass. He may have been a raging asshole, but he wasn’t heartless, so obviously he wasn’t going to just leave Kirishima to die. He wasn’t a fucking monster.

There was just the challenge of how to help. Maybe the other heroes could overwhelm her, but he couldn’t communicate that without alerting her and making sure she shot the gun. Although, at least Endeavour was a trained professional, so he may have had the same idea. Except, he looked completely unbothered. He just crossed his arms with an annoyed expression and resting bitch face, as if the fact that a woman was threatening his best friend with a gun wasn’t something he needed to concern himself with. He wouldn’t be on the same train of thought as Katsuki, hell, he wouldn’t even be on a nearby rail.

She clicked the gun into place, and turned off the safety. Why would she only turn off the safety after she pulled the gun on him? Was it for dramatic effect, or was she just an idiot? Whichever it was, it was his only opportunity. For some reason, he felt like he wasn’t entirely controlling his body, only acting on instinct. He had only experienced that sensation once before, and that just so happened to be seconds before he was impaled. Of course, it would lead to his demise.

Of course that would lead to his death. How could he be so idiotic? he was dangerously similar to Deku sometimes, in the sense that they were self-destructive, even if in Katsuki’s case, it was an accident. Although, he’d never admit it out loud. That would be agonizing. He might actually die from saying it.

Then again, he may as well have admitted it. He was going to die no matter what. After all, getting shot in the chest with no one around assisting you other than an incapacitated, nearly unconscious 17-year-old, was a recipe for, well… death, unfortunately. But, why wasn’t anybody else moving? Why was no one reacting? Did time freeze? No, that wasn’t what it was. Kirishima was still moving.

So, why was no one moving. Icyhot, he could understand. The scene was probably horrifying, no doubt, he was the one feeling the result of the gore, and his (admittedly, a friend) classmate had just gotten shot.

But, Endeavour?

What the hell was that lame-ass, dreadful excuse for a hero’s explanation for being so neglectful? Endeavour had seen far more than his fair share of blood, injury and even death while on the field. Why wasn’t he helping? Why was Katsuki bleeding out on the floor, far too fast for his liking, without anyone to help him? He was being sentenced to death, not because of the gunshot wound, it was because of Katsuki’s stupidity and Endeavour’s disregard.

Whatever. He’d much rather have ‘shot by a gun while protecting his friend’ on his gravestone anyway, even if it meant that he got to stick it to the pile of flaming trash. He thought that he had the worst of it, but looking up at Kirishima’s utterly traumatized face, he reconsidered that.

All he wanted at that moment was to comfort him, but that was hard to do when he couldn’t talk, and when he tried, blood poured out of his mouth like water from a faucet, which was far more alarming than it was reassuring, probably. He had no choice but to keep his mouth shut and wait until he inevitably died. Kirishima tried to save him, putting pressure on the wound, but it was futile.

Suddenly, he stopped breathing. He was dead, or at least dying. Why was he conscious? He was no doctor, but shouldn’t he have passed out by then? Yes? No? God, he was confused. Finally, someone started moving. There was screaming, definitely some sobbing, more screaming, but it was less agonized, and more pained and… wait, it was muffled. What the hell was happening? Was he still alive? He tried to move, but he could barely twitch, and not only because Kirishima was still smothering him.

But… then everything stopped. The intense, all-enveloping pain of the bullet wound was completely gone. Not just dulled or masked from shock, but completely gone. His heart had stopped, he knew it. He felt dead, he was dead, definitely un-alive. Probably. Maybe.

…

Then how was he still conscious? No… he wasn’t conscious. But he was awake? Was he awake? He was thinking, existing, … living? Was he alive? He wasn’t breathing. Could he move? That one was easy enough to figure out. He lifted his hand to the air. Not only did it follow his brain’s direction, but it did so with much more ease than usual, considering how wrecked his muscles were. It was unnerving, actually.

Why did everything feel… fine? Nothing ever felt fine, that was clear in the job description of being a hero. He couldn’t remember the last time he was entirely uninjured, though the severity wasn’t always too terrible.

Except, he didn’t feel entirely sound. He was cold. Freezing, really. A small thing, barely worth mentioning, and definitely not worth complaining about, since everything else felt better than it had in years. But, again, why did he feel anything? How was he alive? Was the cold a side effect of some sort of healing quirk? Was he in a hospital? No, he didn’t even remember passing out, so no time should’ve passed. Unless he fell unconscious without noticing it? Or, maybe death was taking him with its cold, unrelenting grip. Unlikely. He imagined death to be more painful. But, hell, what did he know?

Katsuki sat up. He probably should have done that before, to answer the hundreds of questions he had. And… oh. He was… in his dorm? Okay, that raised even more issues. Maybe he HAD passed out. Why wasn’t he in a hospital? That seemed like a more logical solution, in his opinion. Wait.

It wasn’t his dorm.

Was it… Kirishima’s? Looking around, with the paper muscles sticking out of the clock, punching bag and interior decor, it was certain. He’d recognize it anywhere. Hell, he was in there more often than in his dorm.

Though, usually, Kirishima was in there with him. Unfortunately, he seemed to be absent. As did everyone else.

Thankfully, he was no longer incapacitated, and as such, could leave. So, obviously, he decided to turn the knob and walk outside. But, he couldn’t. His hand went right through the doorknob. Huh. That wasn’t… normal. Fuck, nothing was normal. “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” He shouted in frustration. Was he in some sort of illusion? Was because of a quirk? God, he just wanted to sleep, but he didn’t feel tired. Though, at the same time, he was absolutely exhausted.

Contradictions upon contradictions, his entire BEING was a contradiction at that moment. He felt… not alive, but not fully dead. Could you feel not alive if you weren’t… y’know… in a grave? Dead, and not dead. A walking FUCKING oxymoron. He hated oxymora. Screw oxymora. Screw all figurative language, actually. The most useless thing to exist. God, he was getting of topic.

So, to get back on topic, what the fuck was happening? He had to think shit through. He laid back on Kirishima’s bed, thinking things through. Maybe, just maybe, if he thought enough through, things would start to make sense. It’d be great if things just started making sense.

However, things didn’t just work like that. Why could they never work like that? But, he could try.

Okay, so the doorknob didn’t work, meaning he couldn’t use the door. He went right through the doorknob, so he could get out by… oh. Well, it just seemed obvious when he replayed it. Standing up yet again, he walked towards the door, and went through it. God, he was such an idiot. If your problem was that you were phasing through things, you go through the thing. Made sense, right? Okay, maybe there was a slight possibility he was hysterical, but that was to be expected. Right? He didn’t know.

Thank god, the rest of the dorms seemed to be intact, at the very least. One thing was going right for him. He’d mark it in the ‘good things that happen’ notebook. The notebook was extremely small and entitled ‘Kirishima’. He tried to take the elevator, but the buttons weren’t working. Or, more, he wasn’t working, and his hands went through. He should have expected it. Motherfucker.

Instead, he took the stairs. Where was he going? Uh… the common room. People would be in the common room. They always were. Unless everyone was missing or dead. No, nope, not going down that road, no sir.

But what if he was right? God, why wasn’t anybody around when he woke up? That was weird. It WAS weird, right? He didn’t want to turn the corner into the room and see that no one was there. It was the one room that was never meant to be empty, that would be more than unsettling, it’d be legit terrifying.

Nevertheless, he didn’t shy away from unconfirmed sources of his fear. He turned the corner and…

People.

There were people there, thank the gods. It would probably be the first time that he was excited to see so many obnoxious people in one room. They may be annoying brats, but they were HIS annoying brats. “Oh my god, there you idiots are. What the hell happened?” He tried his best to sound angry, but he couldn’t keep the relief out of his voice. Eh, he would deal with that later.

Then they didn’t respond. He tried again. And again. He kept trying to reach out to them, talking to them, touching them, but going through them, like everything else. They kept talking about him, but he couldn’t answer, he couldn’t tell them anything.

Breathing kept getting harder and harder, he stopped trying to communicate in any way, he wished he was dead, then maybe he could actually get some peace.

He just wanted to get some peace.

---

“That’s how it happened.” That was it. That was what happened. Then, once more, Kirishima saved him. He always seemed to.

Chapter Text

Okay, so, it's been a while since I've updated, as you may have noticed, and I shall explain! A lot of medical problems have come up recently, nothing life-threatening as far as we know, but it prevented me from writing nonetheless. 2 possible cysts in less than 3 days, how fun! On the bright side, the next time I'll update, it's going to be the official 69th chapter!!!

Chapter Text

Shouta couldn’t be more exhausted. A lot had happened over the course of… what was it, a week? So, he couldn’t really be blamed for wanting a year-long nap. And that’s not even considering that his ordinary sleep schedule was horrible, to begin with.

Still, he had shit to do, and it was important shit, so it wasn’t like he could just avoid it. He had to get Shinsou, bring him to face a murderous villain with the alleged power to turn people into ghosts, whether intentionally or accidentally, and making him illegally use his brainwashing on her without consent. Okay, he thought it wouldn’t sound as stupid of an idea as it was, but boy was he wrong.

On top of all that, he still had to convince Tsukauchi that his stupid idea was truly a good one. He was never much of a liar, so that would prove to be pretty difficult. But, he couldn’t stall any longer. He had no idea what would happen to Bakugou if they waited any longer. For all he knew, the kid was already unknowingly suffering the side effects of, well, being dead. I mean, he didn’t really have any experience to draw on, but he was pretty sure that death wasn’t pleasant and free of side effects.

Dialing a number on his phone, he left the hospital. There was no point staying after the ultimate terrible patient, Kirishima, decided it was a good time to be evaluated and discharged, and the equally idiotic nurse agreed with him, so he had left the building. “Hitoshi?”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“It’s about time we put our plan into action. We’re talking to Tsukauchi today.” The other end went silent for a while. “Hitoshi?”

“Wow,” He finally responded. “You’re really doing this?” Didn’t he say he was? Did he think it was a bad time? “You’re serious. Okay,” He started sounding a bit frantic. What was wrong with him? “Uh, right now. Where should we meet? Should I bring anything?” Shouta tried to get a word in, but Hitoshi’s rant was ongoing. “God, that’s stupid, what would I even bring? Snacks and sunscreen? We’re breaking the law here,” He whisper-berated himself. He probably thought Shouta couldn’t hear him.

“No, you should always bring snacks and sunscreen. We have the same skin type, and the sunburns get pretty bad, I know. Get some SPF 75 and protein bars.” He snarked over the phone. A mortified groan came from the opposite end.

“Shut up.”

“Seriously though, I do need you to get something. Or someone, I guess.”

“I thought this was supposed to be covert? Or, was that just supposed to make me feel cool. If so, it worked.” That was the problem, it WAS supposed to be at least somewhat secret. He needed someone who they could trust to keep quiet about their plans. If any of the staff knew, they’d surely try to stop him, since they were reasonable, unlike Shouta himself was turning out to be.

“Uh, it is covert, that’s the hard part. Or, one of the many hard parts. It needs to be a student, they have to have no reason, care about Bakugou, and have a strong stomach.” Confused, primal noises came from Hitoshi. “Just do it, and bring them to the school gates in half an hour, got it?

“A half-hour? Dude, with those specifications, it’d take me at least a year!” He exclaimed exasperatedly.

“Suck it up, buttercup; we don’t have a year. Get them there in 30 minutes or all of our hard work at convincing Tsukauchi will be wasted, okay? Do you want Bakugou to suffocate?” He tried to use the pathos approach at convincing, an unusual occurrence for the purely rational man. Instead of acquiescing, he made even more unholy noises.

“WHAT? WHY WOULD HE SUFFOCATE? WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PLAN, HERE?” Oh, right, he had no idea what Shouta was talking about.

“Just bring them, okay?” Eventually, after much coercing, Hitoshi decided to stop asking questions and agree to get someone with those specifications. Little did he know, he would be getting a much easier job than the person he was recruiting.

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention, make sure they’re good with a shovel.”

“WHA-?” he had hung up the phone and hopped in his car before Hitoshi could ask. He was not looking forward to telling him that part of the plan.

Heading back to the school, he tried to think of another plan, one which would be less traumatizing and gory, but he already knew there were no other options. Oh well, all the students were traumatized before, anyway. Maybe this would force one to go to therapy, for once.

Unlikely, but he wanted to sleep at night.

---

Okay, time to make a checklist. Hitoshi had 30 minutes to find someone who fit the most specific-yet-vague specifications he had ever heard. They have to be a student trusted enough to be told about their secret plan, which narrowed it down to only a 1-A kid, and caring about Katsuki was kind of a prerequisite to being in the class. Good start. Now, the hard part.

They have to have a strong stomach.

What the hell does that have to do with anything?
How strong of a stomach do they need to have?
How would Hitoshi go about testing that?

Well, the first part, according to dad, was irrelevant, so that left the other two to worry about. But, he couldn’t ask, as the bastard stopped answering his texts, so he just had the third question to ponder over.

Anyone who threw up upon seeing Katsuki’s body at the funeral was immediately out. Well, that left limited options, considering the sheer amount of regurgitated lasagne dried on the grass surrounding his grave. Out of that remaining group, he picked out the ones who looked like they had enough muscle mass to dig a crater. He had no idea what they had to dig, or if they were even digging at all, so the bigger, the better.

That didn’t narrow it down much, considering how jacked their class was. Hell, there were even some that had strength-enhancing quirks. Yeah, they sounded like the best options.

…

Oh, it seemed like the obvious choice, now that he thought about it.

Midoriya was perfect for the job. Or, at least, he met the criteria, as he did not know what the job was. Trustworthy? Duh. Cares for Katsuki? No shit. Strong stomach? After breaking his bones in the most grotesque ways possible, there was no way he had any sort of gag reflex. Good at shovelling? Uh… sure?

He went to the stained, clearly unhygienic mattress, and shook the green-haired, depressed, mess of a man until he begrudgingly awoke. “Umhp?” He spoke into the cushion. Hitoshi flipped him over, he winced at the light as his eyes tried to adjust. “‘Toshi? W’as goin’ on, is someone dyin’?” He asked blearily, sitting up and cracking his neck, pained by sleeping on a tough mattress for two nights in a row.

“Sorry man, but we need your help to…” God, his lack of information was really dragging him down. “Stop Katsuki from suffocating?” Midoriya choked on his own spit.

“What did I miss?!” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking aspirin.

“I have no idea, but we have to be by the school gates in…” He glanced at his watch “Uh, another fifteen minutes. So, get dressed, and be prepared to shovel.”

He was going to get dressed, too. He was still in his sleeping clothes, as he had just got woken up from his dad’s call. Midoriya continued to stay on the mattress. Seriously, how could he stand to lay on that? Hitoshi could barely look in its direction. “Wha- what?”

“Suck it up buttercup.”

Chapter Text

Finally, they met up at the gates. Aizawa caught sight of Izuku and raised a judgmental eyebrow to Shinsou. “What? You said someone who we could trust and who’s strong enough to… shovel. I got the best option that was on hand.”

“I suppose he isn’t the worst option. Although, I have to say, I’m not exactly thrilled to have the problem child on duty, especially after the apparent emotional break down he had just a day or so ago. He better be well-rested and in a better state. This is going to be a… harrowing task.” He sighed.

“How did you even know about my breakdown? You weren’t there.”

“I know everything going on in your troublesome class, Midoriya.” Truth is, Yaoyorozu filled him in while they were waiting in the hospital together, but it couldn’t hurt to instill fear that he was always aware of the stupid shit they decided to do for heroism’s sake. Honestly, there’d probably be absolutely no change, but it was at least worth a chance.

“So, I have to ask, what’s the plan?”

“Hitoshi and I will be heading to the station where Bakugou’s murderer is being held, and well, if we succeed… there’s still one major thing that could go wrong. That’s what we need you to help with.”

“Huh?”

“We don’t want him to be buried alive after all the trouble we’ll be going through to bring him back to life. I think you see where this is going…” He shook his head. How dense could this child be? “We need you to dig up his grave. I understand that this will be a traumatizing… and highly suspicious-looking scenario, but this is necessary. If you can’t do it, we’ll get someone else, okay?”

“No! I can do this! It’s the least I can do for Kacchan.” Stubborn as ever. “You guys go do your part, and I’ll do mine.” He affirmed with an enthusiastic nod.

Although Shouta was still reluctant, this was the best option they had. “Thank you Midoriya.”

The next hour driving to the station was a blur of adrenaline and anticipation. It was a quiet ride, more quiet than it usually was with the two introverts in the car. Both Hitoshi and Shouta were overtaken by nerves. ‘What if’s rang in his mind.

What if this didn’t work? What if they ended exacerbating the situation? What if there was actually a benefit to it, but they couldn’t get in or got arrested trying? He had never even considered the possibility of breaking the rules before, he had always been a by-the-book kind of hero. What were the moral implications?

But thinking of the terrified child that had died before his time, Shouta couldn’t stop himself from going through with it. “You ready for this?” He asked Hitoshi quietly. Ready as Shouta may have been to walk in there and attempt to interrogate that raging bitch, he couldn’t exactly disregard Hitoshi’s feelings on the matter. He knew that the child had already faced discrimination based on the ‘inherently villainous nature’ of his quirk, and he was far too young to be breaking the law. He had to know that he was in on this 100%.

Turning his head to him, he saw the look of fierce determination on his face. “Absolutely.” He seemed extremely confident in his answer, like he’d had years to prepare for this moment instead of the day he had in reality.

“Then, let’s get started.”

They’d decided that approaching Tsukauchi and begging him was their best option, humiliating as it may be. He had a good rapport with the man. It would be great if they had anyone else to go to, but, unfortunately, this was Shouta’s only positive connection with the police force. They often resented heroes, especially underground ones.

Said man spotted them as soon as they walked into the station. “Aizawa? What are you doing here? It’s a school day, isn’t it?” Was it? The concept of time was lost on him, considering how much had happened in, what, a little over a week? Plus, UA hadn’t been exactly strict on teaching the children lately, due to the death of a (debatably) beloved student. “Has something happened? Are you reporting a crime?” He had to choose his words carefully around Tsukauchi because of his polygraph quirk.

“Sort of. There was a crime, but I’m not trying to report it so much as prevent it.” That was possibly the most confusing, but technically truthful, way of explaining that.

“Sorry?”

May as well be up front. “Bakugou Katsuki’s killer. She’s being held here, right?”

“How could you possibly-?”

“We want to use Hitoshi’s quirk to get her to confess her crime, and undo it.”

“Aizawa…”

“We know how insane this sounds,” He clarified. “But we have strong evidence saying that her quirk was the real cause of Katsuki’s death, and that she may know how to undo it.” Not the full truth, but he already sounded insane enough without adding on the whole ghost thing to his explanation.

Tsukauchi eyed him tentatively. His anxiety levels started rising quickly as his eyes bored into the haggard man. “How strong is this evidence? How sure are you, Aizawa? Because if it’s flimsy, I just can’t give you the benefit of the doubt when you’re grieving.” How rational of him. He would feel proud of himself for influencing the detective if his heart wasn’t cold and dead.

“It’s not a hundred percent,” Shouta admitted. “But it’s certainly high enough to be more than worth it to save a child’s life.”

Sighing, he nodded his head approvingly. “Okay.” Was he serious? “We aren’t getting anything out of her, and at this point I’m willing to do just about anything, and if, somehow, it manages to bring a hero back to life, I’m in.” He was. Holy shit, did it actually work? “If I lose my job for this, Eraser,”

“I’ll owe you forever.” Shouta finishes eagerly.

“Yeah, yeah, the interrogation room is that way.”

Hitoshi beamed wildly from beside him. “We’re going to save Bakugou’s life.”

Yeah, they were.

---

Dig up his grave. It sounded so simple out of Aizawa’s mouth, and obviously, he’d do whatever it took to help Kacchan, but he didn’t begin to think about what that would really entail.

First of all, how random onlookers would misinterpret his intentions. It would look hella suspicious, to sum it up concisely. He was no grave robber, okay? Well, would it be considered grave robbing if he was only removing the corpse? You know what, that sounds even worse.

What are the moral implications of stealing a body?

Would it even be considered stealing if it wasn’t of any monetary value?

Would it be stealing if he was just putting it in a different place?

Never mind, all that was the least of his concerns. The real trouble would be the trauma that would come from digging up the rotted, dead corpse of his pseudo-brother. His mandated therapist already had enough weird shit to hear about his complicated relationship with Kacchan. Izuku didn’t need to add that on top of everything, especially after his most recent emotional breakdown.

Poor doctor Omori. She really deserved better.

Though, I suppose her job kind of demands screwed up patients. Hey, maybe he made her day a little more interesting. Like, anxiety disorder here, PTSD there, oop, there’s a child with a dead ghost friend.

But, he would still not like to be traumatized, thank you very much. What else could he do? Give the task to someone else? He’d already wasted enough time getting to a potentially life-saving task, and he didn’t want to burden anyone, especially after he’d told Shouta he was fine. No, he had to be the one to do it. He was qualified in every way.

Activating his quirk at 45% to power himself up enough to complete the task as quickly as possible, he started to dig up his grave.

Thankfully, no one seemed to be watching him doing this. Finally, the goddess of luck was on his side. He quietly prayed to Tymora that no one would show up during or after the process. Was it possible to block off a graveyard? Probably not.

In another half an hour, he had gained enormous respect for grave diggers, and wondering whether there was a charity for their poor backs.

Despite the unreasonable amount of time it took, he was successful in his (no pun intended) endeavours. The coffin sat right below him. It had his signature orange X design on it. Most heroes got their colour schemes and/or symbols after dying in the line of work, to honour them.

Whatever the intention, it made Izuku sick to his stomach.

He definitely ended up having a panic attack or three throughout the process of digging the grave, and would probably end up passing out right after he completed his task from sheer exhaustion, but upon seeing the casket, he didn’t feel anything at all. Shock, probably. He should discuss that with Dr. Omori at a later date. He fought through the instinct to freeze then panic, and opened it. He wasn’t sure what he expected, a foul smell, rotted flesh, but…

A completely in-tact body wasn’t it.

Izuku poked at the corpse to make sure it was really, that he wasn’t hallucinating, and, yup, that was human flesh. How the fuck? There was still a bullet wound in his head, and the blood wasn’t even dry.

Now, he wasn’t top of his year in biology, but he was pretty sure that a week-old corpse was supposed to be at least somewhat decomposed. Yet, he looked eerily similar to the exact moment he died. Izuku had a pretty good reference for that, as the image was burned into his head for what would probably be years to come.

He’d just have to worry about that at a later date. He had completed what Aizawa told him to do, and, true to his word, he promptly passed out.

Chapter Text

They sit down in the interrogation room. He hides it from his dad, but Hitoshi’s hands are vibrating. What happens if he can’t do this? Bakugou’s wellbeing depends on this.

God-damn it, he was going through with it if it killed him. Which, obviously, it wouldn’t, but the sentiment was there.

As if sensing his nerves, the black-clad hero squeezed his shoulder. Hitoshi steeled his nerves. This was it. If he was able to just get her to respond to him, it was possible that she could resurrect Bakugou. Maybe the blond would even say thank you. Probably not, but a man can dream.

“So,” Eraser began. “Otsuka, you murdered Bakugou Katsuki.” Okay, starting off pretty blunt.

“I’m not talking.” Shit, she wasn’t cooperative. It’d be hard for Hitoshi to get her to respond to him.

“Why not? We have several witnesses, your fingerprints on the weapon that killed them, security footage, and an endless supply of witnesses. You don’t stand a chance, no matter how good your lawyer is. But, according to your files, you don’t even have one,” Damn, his interrogation tactics were hella aggressive! “You know you’re not getting out of this, so why are you being so uncooperative?”

“You have no idea… that boy isn’t-”

“He’s not quite dead, is he?” Her face went from fed up to absolutely flabbergasted in less than a second. That’s a new record.

“How do you…? Who the hell are you? You’ve never been in here before. I’ve been held here for over a week. I know who works here. You’re not supposed to be here. Get out!” Damn it, his strategy was TOO aggressive. If they weren’t careful, she’d tell the other officers that they were interrogating her illegally. No way in hell would Hitoshi let them go to jail! He needed to take charge. For possibly the first time, Eraser was letting his emotions get the best of him.

“Otsuka, why did you kill Bakugou Katsuki?”

“Shut the hell up! Tell me who-” She froze, words halted. They had got her where they wanted her. Brainwashing may have been a ‘villainous’ quirk, but it could be damn useful.

“Don’t call for help.” He demanded. His dad looked at him with a small smile that he was poorly attempting to hide in his scarf. Brainwashing someone non-consensually didn’t seem like something he should be openly proud of, but he’d take it, despite the poor moral implications.

In another second, he snaps her out of his mind control. It was time to bullshit. “What… what the hell did you do to me?” She demanded.

“That was just a little taste of my quirk. It’s brainwashing. If you don’t answer our questions completely honestly, I’ll command you to stop breathing. And nothing can break you out of it except for me.” As he couldn’t make her talk while or use any brain function while she was under his mind control, using threats to instill fear was his best shot.

“We already know Bakugou is a ghost,” Aizawa added, finally in the right headspace. “And you’re going to tell us how to bring him back to life.” He said with an air of finality.

“You… you’re a hero! You wouldn’t kill me.”

Eraser pauses, replacing the neutral look he almost always had on with a menacing glare. “You don’t think we’d kill the person who is responsible for the murder of an amazing child, whose life should’ve been much longer, and we just so happen to know and love for heroism’s sake? I’m resisting killing you right now, only because of the information I can get from you. The only way you’re getting out of this alive is if you tell us everything, and it works.”

Damn.

That was intimidating as hell. Hitoshi didn’t even know if he was bluffing. I mean, if they had to, he wouldn’t be OPPOSED to killing her. “Okay, damn it!” Hell yes, his dad was the most badass person on the planet! “I’ll talk.”

“First and foremost, how does your quirk work?” She sighed, squirming a little. She was clearly extremely unhappy about telling them. Eraser shot her another icy stare, and she decided that talking was a better option than facing the wrath of a furious (father) teacher.

“When someone performs an act of true, selfless, sacrifice in her presence, they get the thing, person, or in this case, life, they gave away back. A condition of this is that they only get half of what they sacrificed returned,” She started hesitantly. What was that supposed to mean? “Since he sacrificed his life for that red-haired boy, he sacrificed his life. Meaning, he gets half of that back.”

“Which is why he’s a ghost…” Hitoshi finished for her. Honestly, that was a hella cool quirk.

“For example, if a man donates 90000 yen anonymously to a charity around me, he would get 45000 yen back, none of which was taken from the charity. If that same charity mentioned the anonymous donor the next day on the news. If he was satisfied with that reward, then the remaining 45000 yen would be given to him.” She explained.

“And that applies to this situation how?”

“If he gets a satisfying reward for saving that boy’s life, other than him surviving, life will be restored to his body.”

“What kind of reward?”

“I don’t know.” Eraser slammed his hands onto the interrogation table loudly, making Hitoshi flinch. For once, he didn’t notice his reaction.

“It’s your life on the line here! Don’t you dare bullshit us on this.” He seethed. It was rather bold of her to lie to their faces when he had just threatened her scarily believably. “Tell us what we can do to resurrect him!” He commanded.

“I told you, I don’t know! My quirk only applies to an incredibly specific situation. Do you know how rare an act of true, unselfish sacrifice is? How unlikely it is that someone is completely altruistic? My quirk has only been activated seven times in the thirty years I’ve had it, and only one of them other than this incident has been the ultimate sacrifice.”

Damn it. He could tell from the desperate look in her eyes that she was telling the truth.

What the hell were they going to do?

---

Okay, so, Eijirou was all too aware that Katsuki needed space. He just had a huge emotional breakthrough, expressing his affection for Eijirou in the most heartwarming way possible, but he had been in his room for hours, and, though he wasn’t eavesdropping, he heard soft sniffling.

Crying was not a normal reaction, even for sir Katsuki, the emotionally stunted. Eijirou was worried, so sue him! Katsuki detested even the idea of crying.

So, after much internal debate and pacing, he knocked on his door. “Hey, Katsuki,” He starts gently. Was it too gently? Would he think he was looking down on him or pitying him or something? He heard a bit of shuffling from the room. “I know you asked for some space, but… are you okay?”

“I’m fine, shitty hair,” His voice showed no signs of lying. He let out a sigh of relief. “I was just… working through some shit, y’know?” He paused at that. What was he working through? Was there any way for him to help? “Are you just gonna stand out there awkwardly for this conversation like a goddamn dumbass, or are you gonna come in here?” Katsuki shouted sharply. Eijioru huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming in.” He walked into the room to find Katsuki looking like a complete hot mess. (emphasis on hot) His hair was mussed to the point where his signature spikes were imperceptible, his eyes were swollen and red, and he looked completely wiped.

Eijirou was both highly concerned and glad that Katsuki felt comfortable enough to (rudely) invite him into his room, that no one else was typically permitted to enter, while he was in such a vulnerable state. But mostly concerned. What the fuck happened to him? “Yeah, I know I look like shit, you don’t have to stare because of it.”

“What the hell happened?”

“I’m just… trying to work through some shit. It’s been pretty helpful, weirdly enough,” He joked. “If I actually manage to get resurrected or whatever-”

“WHEN you get resurrected or whatever,” Eijirou corrected.

“I’m definitely booking a therapy session or twenty with doctor Omori. Who knew dying would be this traumatizing?” He complained nonchalantly.

“That’s pretty heavy stuff,” Understatement of the millennia. “But is that really what’s bothering you?” He looked somewhat surprised. “Come on, I know you, Katsuki. That isn’t the only thing bothering you, is it?” Katsuki shrugged, turning his head away. “You don’t have to tell me, but if it’ll help, I’m not gonna judge. I could be your therapist until we sort out this whole mess.”

“You’re the last person I can tell…” That hurt far more than he let on. After all the time they had together, Katsuki didn’t trust him enough with this? “That came out wrong.”

“No, I get it, you can’t tell me everything-”

“That’s the thing! I really want you to know, and, god, I’ve tried to. But, it’s just not getting through to you… I don’t know if you’re just playing dumb, or if it’s just so far from your mind, but I,” He inhaled deeply. “I love you, more than anything, and that’s not an exaggeration, because you are like… the light of my life, or whatever corny shit you wanna hear. There’s nothing, no one, that I would ever place above you, not even myself. That’s how we got into this whole mess, after all. And, for fuck’s sake, I’m not talking about the platonic depth of our friendship; I’m talking in the gay way. Like, your mouth on my mouth, boyfriends shit.”

“... Huh?”

“You fucking heard me shitty hair, unless you went deaf. I’m not fucking repeating myself. That was the cheesiest shit I’ve ever said, and I’m never saying again, goddamn it!”

“Woah. Are you, like, serious?”

“No. I just made that huge proclamation to screw with you because I’m a demon sent from the lowest pits of hell. Yes, dumbass, I’m fucking serious.” And then, Eijirou laughed. Hysterically. I mean, this whole situation was so stupid! Were they seriously dancing around each other this whole time? That whole thing about ‘I’m in love with my best friend’? Total hilarity! Oh my god, this would make a great story for their future children. Did Bakugou want children? Oh lord, he was getting ahead of himself. “What the hell is so damn funny, idiot?!”

Oh right, he still had to respond. “Oh my god, we’re idiots! I love you in the gay way too, Katsuki.”

“What? Are you being serious?”

“No. I just made that huge proclamation to screw with you because I’m a demon sent from the lowest pits of hell. Yes, dumbass, I’m fucking serious.” He mocked.

And then, the strangest thing happened.

Katsuki was gone.

Chapter Text

Shouta Aizawa was a goddamn idiot. He let his emotions get the best of him, and Katsuki would have been the one to suffer the consequences if his son didn’t step in at just the right time. (Which he was very proud of, mind you)\

But, it ended up not mattering whatsoever. He could tell from the desperate plea in Otsuka’s eyes that she was telling the truth. She had no real reason to lie when her life was being threatened. There was next to nothing they could do for Katsuki because people weren’t altruistic enough to let the woman test out her quirk.

Some grand reward for sacrificing his life? How the hell were they meant to find that? What about losing your life could be satisfying? In Shouta’s mind, there was no answer.

What in the world were they meant to do for him?

Obviously, Hitoshi’s mind was in the same place as his when he punched a wall. More healthy a coping mechanism than half of Bakugou’s, he guessed. “Damn it!” He screamed hoarsely. “We came all this way… This was our last shot, and she had nothing useful! What if… What if Bakugou is stuck like this forever… what if we can’t bring him back?” He fretted, beginning to tug on his hair.

“That’s enough,” Shouta started. “We can’t go into the ‘what ifs?’. We’ll find another angle, another lead, eventually. Plus, the information we got… well it’s more than we had before.” He tried, not really believing himself. But, this wasn’t about him, it was about convincing Hitoshi. “We know for certain now that things can go back to normal, and we know the basics of how to do it. All we need to find out now is the satisfying reward. It’s vague, sure, but we can figure it out. We always do.” He reassured.

“I know… and that’s good and all, but… I just feel so helpless. There’s nothing much we can do about Bakugou’s suffering, and that makes me want to scream! This has been so hard on him. If it was anyone but him, they would’ve crumbled by now. I just want to do something to ease his pain. Anything.” He confessed.

Though he was loath to admit it, he felt the same way. He had been in this kind of situation before, as a hero. There were always people in pain, and, since he wasn’t a healer type, there was usually not too much he could do. His only option was to comfort them until the ambulance arrived. If it was beyond simple first-aid, he couldn’t do anything but wait for help, or for the innocent civilian (or sometimes hero) to die.

Only being able to comfort and watch while an unbearably traumatic event unfolds is the worst kind of pain imaginable.

“Just giving him this information, and a little bit of comfort, (if he’ll allow it), is easing the pain. It’s all we can do for now.” He knew it wasn’t the most helpful of speeches, but he wasn’t one for pep talks.

“You’re right, I know you’re right, but I still feel horrible.” He shrugged, looking down. “My best friend is dead, and there’s not much I can do. I came here because I thought it was going to be a huge break in the case, but it’s absolutely nothing of use.” His frown deepened. “And Bakugou’s going to yell at me.” He added as an afterthought.

“When doesn’t he?” That got a laugh out of him. He decided not to add the ‘you wouldn’t be able to hear him anyway’. It’d be even more of a buzzkill.

“True enough.” Clearly, he hadn’t quite shaken the disappointment, but he was in higher spirits than he was when he punched the poor wall. In other news, the crack in it showed how much his strength developed since Shouta took him under his wing. So… silver lining? “Let’s head back to the school. I’m sure Shouto can cook up about a thousand new theories and possibilities with the information we’ve gathered, okay?” That much was probably true. That boy had far too much caffeine in the past few days; there was no way his brain wouldn’t spew out possibilities.

“Yeah, probably.” He agreed reluctantly. He gave a quick thanks to Tsukauchi and headed out to his car.

About ten minutes into the drive back, he got a call.

Of course, being the responsible man he was, he didn’t answer. He was in the middle of driving, with a minor, no less. But, the caller was rather persistent. Somewhere around the tenth call, he found a good spot to pull over and picked up his phone. The caller ID was Kirishima’s.

Shit.

Quickly enough to give you whiplash, he answered. “Kirishima, what happened?” The only thing he heard on the other side of the line was heavy breathing and sobs. ‘Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.’ He was having a panic attack. He lived with enough mentally ill people in his household to recognize it even over the phone. “Okay, I need you to breathe in for four seconds-”

“I can’t, he’s- I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. Just try.” he didn’t like this, not one bit. Kirishima was the put-together one. What the hell would have to happen to make him so upset… Was it Katsuki? He heard a shaky inhale on the other end. “Okay, good. Now hold that for seven seconds, and when that’s done, exhale for eight. Can you do that?” He repeated that pattern a few times, and eventually, they moved on to grounding exercises. “Okay, now, can you tell me what happened?” He asked gently.

“It’s Katsuki,” He said shakily. Damn it. “He’s gone, he left-”

“What? Where did he go?”

“That’s the thing he just,” He repeated the breathing exercise again. Shouta began to do the same. It wouldn’t be helpful if they both ended up having panic attacks. “He’s just GONE. I don’t know what happened, he didn’t leave… he just- he disappeared!”

Well, fuck.

---

By all accounts, it didn’t make sense. Again, biology was not his strong suit, but he knew the basics. Katsuki’s corpse should’ve been… well, a corpse! It was supposed to smell rotted, look rotted, and, even if that didn’t happen within a week, the blood should’ve been much drier.

Could you really blame him for fainting? Anyone would’ve done the same thing, especially if they had the relationship he did with Kacchan. Plus, the fainting spell only lasted, like, two minutes. But, after he regained consciousness, he had to address the situation. Exactly what he DID NOT want to do, but, as usual, the universe thought it’d be real fun to emotionally torment him.

So… what was his next move?

Immediately, his brain went into problem-solving mode, and he went into his muttering ramble.

Thoughts, ideas, he could do that! In fact, his brain was better at coming up with stuff than average people. But, for some reason, (Like, I don’t know, the extremely traumatizing situation he was put in) his brain wasn’t doing the normal idea thing that it usually did. He needed someone to brainstorm with him. Oh, he could call someone! And who was a better option than Eraserhead and Hitoshi, the very sons of bitches that got him into this mess?

Quickly, he dialed their number. They were probably in the middle of the interrogation, but in his opinion, this was maybe, possibly, a priority. Surprisingly, they picked up right away.

“Midoriya, what’s wrong?” Why did he always immediately assume whenever Izuku called, it was because he fucked something up? I mean, it was a logical assumption, and in this case, true, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be offended about it. “Did you manage to dig up his grave yet?” What, was it that urgent?

“Yeah, that’s kind of the problem.”

“Did you get caught?

“Uh, no…”

“You got arrested?! Really Midoriya, I expected better from you. I know stealth isn’t your strong suit, but you should at least know the basics by now. And, I’m not your lawyer, so you really shouldn’t be your one phone call-”

“I wasn’t arrested!” He exclaimed.

“Oh. Then what happened?” He heard Hitoshi chime in. Great, so he was on speakerphone. Good. Hitoshi was a great theorist, and pretty damn good at biology. He could potentially help him figure out what the hell was up with Kacchan’s corpse.

“Oh, nothing really. How good are you at biology?”

“What?”

“Just… just answer the question, please.” He pleaded, not having the energy to argue with him about anything.

“I’m decent, I guess. Midoriya, what did you do? Is someone dying?”

“No, but again, that’s the problem here. So, tell me, how long does it typically take a corpse to decompose, or even start smelling? And, if you would, how long does it take for blood to dry?”

“What is this for?” He was about to wave off his concerns again, but Aizawa cut him off before he could. “Right, right, keep your secrets, whatever. To decompose, about three days,” Okay, that wasn’t TOO big a difference! Maybe it was normal after all. Maybe not NORMAL-normal, but, what was at that point? “For the smell, around 24 hours,” Less and less normal… “And for the blood to dry, forty-five to seventy-five minutes.” Minutes? MINUTES?

“Goddamn it.”

“Okay, I know you don’t want to, but, for gods’ sake, WHAT IS THIS FOR, PROBLEM CHILD?”

“Fair enough. So, Kacchan’s body was dug up successfully, and no one has caught me or stumbled upon a sketchy scene. But, one small detail…” He took a deep breath in preparation of Aizawa’s inevitable freak-out. “His body hasn’t started decomposing, it doesn’t smell, and the blood from when he got shot is still wet.” He was met only with silence at the other end. “Aizawa sensei? Are you okay? What should I do?”

“Check his pulse.”

“Huh?”

“Check. His. Pulse.” Izuku didn’t dare argue when he was using his stern voice. No doubt his eyes were glowing red at the other end. He pitied Hitoshi having to see that.

Much to his surprise, when he bent down to press his finger against his dead best friend’s wrist, he was… much less dead than he was mere moments ago. There was a slow, but sure heartbeat. When he pressed his ear against Kacchan’s chest, sure enough, he was breathing, shallow as it was. “He… he’s alive.” He muttered disbelievingly into the phone.

“Call the ambulance, now!”

Well, fuck.

Chapter Text

He let a tear slip out of his eyes once more. It felt like he had been doing that a lot more than could be considered ‘manly’ in the past week or so. He couldn’t help it, though. At least it wasn’t the desperate, guilty, heartbroken tears it’d been for so long. No, for once, it was a good thing.
.

Seeing Katsuki how he should’ve been the whole time; solid, real, breathing,
. Dear lord, that’s all Eijirou wanted for him.

Of course, just recently he was crying from grief and terror, but that was quickly cleared up when Shinsou and Eraser gave him the story. Out of obligation, he berated them for their recklessness, but, in all honesty, their plan was brilliant, and he was mostly miffed that he hadn’t thought of it first. The thing he was most mad about was that they decided to carry out their dumbass plan without looping him in.

A moment of true happiness, one where he would be repaid for his sacrifice. Is Eijirou pointing out the obvious really worthy of all that drama? He didn’t think so. Not that he was unhappy about it! He was thrilled, sure, but he would’ve thought that it’d barely be a blip on his radar, not big enough that it’d bring him back from the afterlife.

Even more impossible; how the hell did Katsuki not notice that Eijioru had been hopelessly in love with him? He wasn’t exactly Mr. Subtle.

“You know, thinking so much isn’t good for your brain, nor crying for your hydration.” Shinsou pointed out snarkily.

“Shut up,” Eijirou replied with a soft chuckle. His quip didn’t keep him from spiralling for too long. He was so goddamn worried about Katsuki that there was no way he could avoid it by joking; not this time. “It was almost better when he was a ghost…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I could still see him, he was still there, always present. Of course, I’d much rather he be alive with no stipulations than a ghost, but at least I know he couldn’t die when he was already dead. Sorry, that must sound super confusing.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “I’ll just shut up now.”

“No, I get what you’re saying…” He heaved a sigh. “I’m worried too. But, he’s gonna make it through okay. He always seems to, somehow.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right, I know I’m being irrational.”

“Well, we’re all a little irrational sometimes, and that’s okay, especially when it comes to our friends who died, became a ghost, got resurrected by the power of love, and are now comatose in the hospital where you were when you passed out from a head injury. Happens to the best of us.” He assured with a little pat on the shoulder.

“I know you’re being a sarcastic shit right now, but that’s actually really helpful, thanks.”

“Aw, darn. Well, guess I’ve filled out my ‘being nice to people’ quota for the day. I never do! Dad’ll be so proud of me.” He snarked. His expression quickly sobered, and for Shinsou, that was never a good sign. “Y’know, I know this is tough on you, but you should get back to the dorms, take a nap… maybe a shower?” Eijirou laughed at that, but the insomniac didn’t seem to find too much humour in his own comment. “Seriously, man, you look awful. I mean, you’re completely worn down!”

“Thanks,”

“This is sincere! Katsuki would want-”

“Katsuki would want to wake up and see me, the person he just poured his heart out to there and supporting him, yes, you’re right Shinsou.” They both turned sombre and bitter. “Just- I need to be here. Maybe he doesn’t want it, but I have to, okay?”

“... Alright. But if you end up passing out, you’re not coming back here.” He compromised reluctantly.

“Sounds fair enough!” He agreed brightly, blinding smile returning to his previously gloomy face. It was almost a tragedy that Katsuki couldn’t see his long-time love’s renowned smile coming back with a vengeance. Shinsou left to go practice self-care in Eijirou’s stead, but he stopped him before he left. “Shinsou?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, for everything.”

The boy smiled slightly, turning back to him. “Anything for Katsuki.” It all clicked into place for Eijirou moments before. Shinsou felt the same way as…

“You’re a good guy, still helping him, helping ME, even though you feel…” Shinsou hesitates for a moment, looking scared. “I’m sure in another universe, you guys would’ve-” Shinsou cuts him off quickly.

“I don’t doubt in a world where you never existed, that’d be true. But, I’ve come to terms with it, alright? You win. You’re always gonna be the victor against me, against everyone. It’s not upsetting, more… inspiring. I want to find someone like that; someone who feels the same way, that is. Treat him well, okay? Nah, that’s stupid to ask, I know you will.” That’s where he left it. There was no more to be said.

All Eijirou could do was wait, and listen to the EKG, squeeze Katsuki’s hand tightly, and pray. A minute, an hour, three, five. Visitors streaming in and out, some more than others. Planning of double dates, laughs, crying, until finally. Wait, listen, squeeze, wait, listen, squeeze, Wait, listen, squeeze, wait, listen, squeeze, Wait, listen, squeeze, wait, listen, squeeze, Wait, listen, squeeze, wait, listen, squeeze, Wait, listen, squeeze, wait, listen, squeeze, Wait, listen, squeeze, wait, listen, squeeze, squeeze back… wait what?

“Eijirou?”

“Katsuki?”

- - -

For the record, Katsuki was fucking fine. That record was for the countless nurses, doctors, surgeons and other bitches convinced Katsuki wasn’t strong enough for a miraculous resurrection. He just wanted to reunite with his (boy?)friend, goddammit! “And one more reflex test-”

“NO! NO MORE GODDAMN REFLEX TESTS.” He finally protests, ripping off the blood pressure cuff and slamming it on the stupid thin-ass paper on the stupider hospital bed, tearing it in half in the process. Who the fuck even cared? It was just a stupid bit of easily-replaced paper! “Fuck off, I’m obviously in perfect shape! I just want to leave.” He pleaded.

“Sir,” One of the nurses started wearily. “Please calm down! And you’re not in perfect health, your BPM and blood pressure are rather low…” She nitpicked.

“I sweat a substance that lowers your heart rate and blood pressure, and I do a ridiculous amount of cardiovascular activity. Stop treating me like your little experiment because I came back from the dead. It’s no big deal, and I’m okay now. Back the hell off, alright? I’ll sign a damn AMA, alright?” He reasoned, already heading to the main floor.

By the time he got to the reception to sign out, there was Eijirou, having a row with some woman at the front time, looking rather miffed. He caught a few snippets of the conversation. “That’s bullshit-” “Sir, please be rational-” “How rational would YOU be if you had-” “It’s just the policy-” “I swear to god, if you mention fucking POLICY again, I will strangle-”

“WOAH, okay, let’s finish up there. Don’t want to get in trouble because of a death threat, now do we?” Eijirou immediately flipped around, finally noticing Katsuki.

“You’re here?”

“AMA.” He clarified. “Stupid doctors treating me like a fucking experiment. I just left.” He desperately tried to repress the urge to fling himself at Eijirou like a dying man to water but was visibly struggling. Clearly though, Eijirou didn’t have the same willpower as Katsuki.

The kiss wasn’t lustful, but it was certainly desperate. It was both a confirmation that they loved each other and an affirmation that Katsuki could ACTUALLY touch him. It lasted until neither of them could breathe, and they were forced to pull apart for survival’s sake. “Fuck okay, that was… yeah.”

“Eloquent.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki responded playfully. He wanted to pull back in for another kiss once they’d regained their breath, but the look on the receptionist’s face told him that was pretty solidly a bad idea. Reluctantly, they tore themselves apart.

“Uh… if you couldn’t tell by now, I love you.”

“Cool. Fuck, yeah, that’s… cool.”

“Cool.”

“Obviously, like, same.”

“Getting cooler.”

“We should probably get back to the dorms, see other people.”

Eijirou pouted. “Less cool.”

“Then pounce on each other like bunnies in my room?” He suggested.

“Coolest!” He choked out nervously, blushing bright red. Despite the receptionist’s judgmental looks, he went back for another kiss. So sue him!

“You know what would be even cooler? If you went out with me in two days at seven for a great meal at your favourite place, and no, you don’t have to eat the vegetables… that night.”

“Table for four?”

“Why?”

“Todoroki and Midoriya want to join us for our first date?” He proposed hesitantly.

“Fucking bastards. Fine! If they ruin it, you won’t stop me from killing them.”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t be joining you in that case!” Fuck, that was the hottest thing Katsuki had ever heard, and that was saying a lot.

“That’s a goddamn deal, Shitty Hair.”

Chapter Text

Coming into the dorms again was an… experience, to say the least. At first, Eijirou and Katsuki thought they were safe, that there was no one else there, but at the sight of Denki’s shocked face, they knew they were in for a long afternoon.

“Guess we’ll be postponing that date,” Eijiirou muttered to his boyfriend as Denki clumsily called for his classmates.

“They all here?”

“Probably. They didn’t allow you too many visitors, and they agreed to let me, Shinsou, Midoriya, and Eraser alternate, so they’ve probably been here the whole time supporting each other.” He didn’t add the part about the many tears and incessant questioning when he went back to the dorms to sleep the first day, or that the first day was when he decided he would sleep in the hospital.

“Supporting each other? It wasn’t that big a deal…” He grumbled.

“Are you kidding? We had no idea what was going on at the time. We thought… just, it was bad, okay?” They were hoping Eijirou still had a way to communicate. He wanted to forget their faces when he told them he couldn’t.

“Drama queens.” He said with no bite to it. Fondness was clearly leaking through with a note of worry.

“BLASTY!”

“Oh, fuck.” Katsuki was quickly rushed out of Eijirou’s arms and completely ambushed by the Bakusquad. Although he put on a face of annoyance, the fondness in his eyes was unmistakable to Eijirou, at least.

The fondness was significantly lessened when the entire “Bakusquad” burst into sobs and tugged him into a dogpile. “We missed you so much, man!” Dunce Face cried, hugging him tighter. Katsuki was about two seconds away from snapping his neck off with an explosion, but Eijirou’s warning look lengthened his fuse slightly.

“I didn’t leave, moron!”

“Yeahhhhhhhh, I know, but we couldn’t see you. We missed your terrible personality.” Raccoon Eyes supplied entirely unhelpfully. Yeah, sorry Eijirou, that was it. He tossed them all aside and started screaming bloody murder to his dumbasses, much to their collective delight. “There’s our boy~” She murmured happily. The yelling alerted the rest of the class, and all came barrelling down the stairs, shouting excitedly. Deku was the loudest one of all.

Boldly, he leaped into his arms and wrapped him in a protective embrace, and for once, he allowed himself to accept the affection. His awkward back-pats and occasional noogies were his words. “I missed you too.”

Out of all the smiles that day, Eijirou’s remained the brightest.

Considering he wasn’t the ghost, it was shocking how it could be so hauntingly beautiful.