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A deep purple fog clouded his vision and his mind, every sensation blurring together as Katsuki twisted and writhed his way out of the cloudy clutches of the warp gate. Surely he must have yelled as he fell to the ground from who knows how high up in the air, but he was quick enough at activating his Quirk to propel himself towards the street of his own volition, tucking and rolling in the last seconds to avoid snapping his bones or worse. For a moment he lay completely still on the pavement, half expecting the villains to reappear and snatch him right back up again, but they’d been traveling at high speeds and he’d completely blindsided them with his escape. They may be lost for a way to double back now and hopefully, he’d be long gone by the time they rounded on him. Surely he wasn’t worth such an effort. As if he would have joined those shithead villains. They didn’t know the first thing about him.
“He’s not a resource that belongs on the heroes’ side. We’re going to put him on the stage where he can really shine.”
The words of that dramatic ass freakshow wannabe rang in his ears. Words that had been muffled, but unmistakable as they’d echoed through the confines of the marble prison that had compressed him; by far the weirdest feeling he’d ever experienced in his fifteen years of life. No. What had been the weirdest sensation of his life was to essentially be trapped inside of a person, moving with them, through them. Warping.
Suddenly, his stomach twisted and he sat up and retched, emptying the contents of his now sour stomach. Ugh. He needed to move, but his body felt completely like jelly. All he wanted to do was fall asleep for several days and not talk to anyone for at least a year. Katsuki willed himself upright, ignoring the aches and pains and the pervasive nausea in his gut.
It was lucky that no one was around at this hour to spot him tumbling through the air and landing so ungracefully on the pavement. He looked for a familiar landmark or a street sign to figure out just where he was and in what direction he needed to go. He spotted an old warehouse on the corner and an advertisement for a luxury clothing store in the nearby shopping center. Kamino. Huh. He’d been through here before with his mom, but it had been a while. He knew there was a train station around somewhere. Fuck, but he didn’t know what actual time it was, only that it was late. Hopefully, the trains would still be running this hour. Absently, he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone.
Shit, but the thing was dead. Guess batteries don’t stay charged when traveling through a person-portal. He needed to text people, tell them he was safe. He hated to admit that by ‘people’ he specifically meant Deku. He knew the nerd must be beside himself with worry and guilt right now, the dumbass martyr. Katsuki couldn’t get those pleading green eyes out of his head or the wailing, guttural scream calling after him in desperation, ‘Kacchaaann!’
Thank fuck the nerd hadn’t followed him; that he’d heeded his command to not come. It would have been that much harder to escape with two of them, especially with Deku panicking as he was prone to do. At least Deku was still with Aizawa, who surely wouldn’t let him do anything rash. But then he’d looked pretty beat up. He’d need to get those wounds tended to. Katsuki pictured the purplish bruising around Deku’s half-closed eye, the streaks of blood running down his face, the broken arms, also purple. Purple like Kurogiri, Katsuki thought with a shudder. Where had those thoughts of Deku even come from? Why the hell was he so worried about that now? He had bigger fish to fry.
Katsuki turned a few shady corners and then he found himself in a more recognizable area of the ward, the lights from the shops still brightly lit even though it was after hours. A few people mingled near food stalls and wandered out of bars, the faint hint of club music filling Katsuki’s ears as he pressed on towards the train station.
It wasn’t until he approached the turnstile that he realized he didn’t have his wallet. He’d had his phone during the last training exercise at camp, but not his wallet. That was still back at the cabin with the rest of his personal belongings. He sighed and mustered up the best lip quiver he could as he approached the attendant at the ticket station.
“Excuse me,” he said, gulping and taking heaving breaths to stir his emotions. “I was just mugged in the alley behind the shopping center. I didn’t get a look at the guy, he ran off, but I don’t have my rail pass or any money and I just need to get home.”
The woman at the ticket counter looked concerned, but whether about a potential mugging or about offering a kid a ticket without payment, he couldn’t tell. Katsuki thought about mentioning that he was a U.A. student but thought better of it. That would only lead to too many questions and make him that more traceable should the villains follow.
“Please don’t alert the authorities or the heroes or anything. I’m not hurt, just shaken up.”
Finally, some empathy seemed to break in her and she slid a ticket across the counter. He nodded and bowed politely and waited for the train. When it arrived he attempted to sleep the whole way, but he still couldn’t get the image of Deku’s fear-filled eyes out of his mind, or the feeling of traveling through the air in a wispy, purple rush.
When he arrived on his parents’ doorstep, he had no choice but to ring the doorbell, despite the late hour. His mother answered almost immediately. She was dressed in her pajamas and robe, looking frazzled and worried and confused, her phone clutched in her hand. Behind her, his father made tea in the kitchen, looking just as rough around the edges. Ah, so Aizawa had already filled them in.
“Kid! What’re you doing here?!” She exclaimed, looking like she’d seen a ghost. That irked him for some reason, because yeah, he’d been taken by villains, but he was still very much alive. Why was the assumption that it would mean a death sentence? He was more than capable of taking care of himself. She also looked caught between wanting to embrace him and too stunned to move. Honestly, he didn’t think he could hug her without completely breaking down and he couldn’t have that. Not yet. Not now.
“Training camp is over,” he said, breezing by her and into the house.
“They said you were kidnapped!”
“Yeah, well, I escaped,” he answered.
“Katsuki!”
“I’m going to bed.”
He heard his parents whispering, conferring behind him as he moved through the house to his room. He stripped from his now filthy and sweaty clothes that smelled deeply of burnt sugar and smoke due to his heavy Quirk usage—along with the sticky mustiness of any teenage boy who’d just spent an evening fighting villains in a forest—and tossed them into the laundry. Usually, he didn’t mind the sweet smell of the nitroglycerin-like sweat that gave him his explosive power (he’d be in a hell of a lot of trouble if he did mind), but right now it made him feel disgusted. That power hadn’t been enough to keep him from getting nabbed by some low-grade villain extras and it should have been.
Katsuki jumped in the shower and came out smelling more like cedar and vanilla than sweat. He promptly put on his PJs and fell into the bed, face down. He thought sleep would be difficult considering the ordeal he’d just been through, that the onslaught of disturbing images and thoughts would be enough to keep him up, but he found himself drifting easily, the exhaustion more overpowering than the anxiety, even if the last thing he saw in his mind before nodding off was still Deku’s pleading green eyes.
******
He awoke to the buzzing of his phone, an endless string of text messages in his inbox, Kirishima, Kirishima, Kirishima. Deku. Katsuki grunted, throwing the phone down on the bed, ignoring all of them, and he exited his room to seek out some food because dammit, he was starving, but he instantly froze on the landing at the sound of his mother’s voice.
“…troubling. I know the kid’s got a little too much pride, but I thought he’d made some friends at U.A.”
“I believe he has.”
“Well then maybe he should learn to listen to them!”
He snuck towards the banister, peering over, just enough to see his teachers seated across from his parents. Shit . Aizawa sensei. And All Might? In his house! Katsuki swiftly moved back into his room and shut the door. He leaned back against the wood and closed his eyes. It was impossible to ignore the sting of tears that grew there. Shit shit shit. The old lady was right. He should have fucking listened to stupid Deku, and Bird Boy, and Arms. Maybe then he wouldn't have gotten himself into this mess.
His stomach rumbled as he crawled back into the bed, for lack of anything better to do. He picked up his phone again and rolled his eyes at the thought of his classmates texting him while he was in the middle of some swirling purple warp gate as if he could have answered his phone instead of merely hung on for dear life as his insides turned to mush. They hadn’t known he was on his way home safely when they’d texted.
As he reread Deku’s text, he froze. It was ridden with typos and garbled nonsense, which told him that the idiot had tried to text with mashed fingers. Katsuki did his best to ignore the pang in his chest that sprung up once again at the image of a broken-armed Deku screaming as Katsuki was swept away. He’d heard the deep feral sounds, they’d stricken him to the core. Yet, he knew Deku’s frustration was only because he had failed at playing hero; it wasn’t anything personal. Surely Deku would have reacted the same way had Icy-Hot, or Glasses, or Round Face been taken. Katsuki wasn’t special.
He went back to ignoring the messages and instead pulled up a news site. Shit , but news of a villain attack at an undisclosed U.A. training camp was already circulating. His name wasn’t mentioned at all though, thankfully. Word of the kidnapping was conveniently left out of the picture.
Only because I had the good sense to escape, he thought. The League of Villains’ faces were plastered everywhere, already considered suspects due to their messy handling of the whole situation. Amateurs.
“Katsuki!” his mother shouted. “Your teachers are here. They want to talk to you.”
Katsuki groaned. He supposed he should have expected it. No use trying to avoid it anymore. He drugs his feet as he came down the stairs, straightening up just as he turned the corner to greet his mentors.
“Young Bakugou,” All Might said cheerily. It irked Katsuki, for some reason that his idol was here acting so chipper and bright, happy to see him as if this were a routine visit for tea and chat.
“Maybe it’s best if you leave us for a while,” Mr. Aizawa said to his parents. Mitsuki looked as though she wanted to raise hell at that, but Masaru pulled on her sleeve and they bowed out of the room without another word.
“So,” Aizawa began. “You got away.”
“ Tch . obviously.”
“You’re lucky they didn’t try to pursue you,” said All Might.
“Yeah, well, they weren’t the brightest bunch,” Katsuki replied. He didn’t know what else to say or what they expected him to say and he couldn’t read their expressions. It was impossible to tell if they were angry or proud or surprised or a mix of all of that. They shouldn’t be surprised by what he was capable of at this point. He was damn tired of people underestimating him, and misunderstanding.
Katsuki was used to the stoic expression from Aizawa-sensei. Even when he was impressed, he rarely showed it in his features. All Might, on the other hand. Ugh, why did he still need All Might to look at him with admiration, with approval? Hadn’t he outgrown that shit? No, he thought. Because there was one person All Might always seemed to look at that way, no matter what. Fuckin’ Deku.
“Those idiots shouldn’t have even got me in the first place,” Katsuki muttered.
“So how did they?” asked Aizawa, bluntly.
“Because I let them!” he shouted. Woah. Was that really what he thought?
“You can’t blame yourself, Bakugou. Kid,” All Might said. Katsuki absolutely loathed the pity in his voice.
“Clearly, I didn’t fight ‘em hard enough. I should have kicked their asses,” Katsuki growled, “I could have if I wasn’t so weak.”
“No one thinks you’re weak, young Bakugou.”
“ I do! I think I’m weak!” He barked, surprising himself. Shit. Neither of them knew how to respond to that , did they? He pressed on. “Do you know what they wanted with me?” He raised his eyebrows, leaned forward with clasped hands. He spoke softer now, forcing them to lean in too, to really listen. “They wanted to recruit me. Yeah, that’s right. They liked what they saw from me at the Sports Festival. Said my talents were wasted on heroes. Thought maybe I’d want to join their pathetic little group.”
He maintained his veneer of toughness, but he felt it cracking. Saying this out loud, admitting it to his teachers, it fuckin’ hurt and the tears burned behind his eyes. He stood then, unwilling to cry in front of them just now. “I’m tired,” he said, by way of excusing himself, “can I go now?”
They didn’t protest, despite the fact that they couldn’t have accomplished much of anything. Aizawa nodded furtively and he saw them exchange a meaningful look which only made the swirl of emotions churn faster inside. As Katsuki stalked back into his room he heard them talking in low tones to his parents once again, saying something about dorm rooms, he thought. Shortly after, there were muffled goodnights and the click of the front door. He turned the lights off and crawled under the covers, so he could pretend to be asleep, lest they try to disturb him again. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Even so, he pulled his phone off the nightstand out of habit and noted a new message from Deku.
[Nerd]
02:07 am
Kcchan! I hEeardyou’re home sAfve so tht’sa relef. I’mat thhospital. 4 brknARM
Tch. Damn Deku still typing with Detroit Smashed fingers. Dumbass. Use voice to text at least! He fell back onto his bed, scrolling through his other messages, but they were mostly just Kirishima filling him in on everyone’s status, saying he heard through the grapevine that the school was probably going to move them into dorms at the end of summer break. So that aligned with the whispers he’d heard from All Might and Aizawa Sensei downstairs. Dorms, huh. U.A. a boarding school all of a sudden. All because of him.
*****
When he woke, his back was stiff as hell,l and sore from being compressed into a fucking marble, not sleeping right, tossing and turning, and falling from a fucking warp gate at a ridiculous height! He sighed. The light flooding into his bedroom told him it was at least a day. His phone told him it was already past noon. He half wanted to stay in bed all day and avoid his parents, but he knew there was no real escape from their lecture. More than a lecture, though, he dreaded the frightened look in their eyes. But he came downstairs to find his father reading a newspaper on the sofa and his mother making breakfast. He quickly remembered he still hadn’t eaten since being back at the camp and his stomach rumbled, giving him away. His mother looked up as he yawned and tried to tamp down his unruly bedhead.
He moved to the counter and made himself tea; moving in proximity to her, he braced himself for an earful, but instead, she gave him a light squeeze of the shoulder and a warm smile. Oof, that was somehow worse.
“Did you sleep okay?” she asked.
“I slept.”
“That I can see. You better be hungry, brat. I made the works.”
“M’starving,” he answered, taking his tea to the table. He watched carefully as she served up a plate full of bacon, eggs, and pancakes, which he devoured. She watched him just the same and they were so much alike he just knew she was teetering on the brink of saying everything on her mind, shouting her wrath of worry, disappointment, fear, relief, and love. Instead, she sat across from him and ate her own breakfast, more slowly and measured than him, but then she wasn’t a teen boy who’d been forced to skip several meals while evading a kidnapping, so…
“Your dad and I both took the day off work, so we’re here if you need.” He nodded and grumbled between bites. She was almost daring him to snap, to say he didn’t need them or anything or anyone, but it was bait he wasn’t going to fall for because that was a bullshit lie he’d tried to believe for so long. A facade with many cracks that was only now beginning to crumble. “At some point, we’re gonna need to talk about what happened, kid.”
Katsuki clenched his jaw. “I know,” he answered. That seemed to appease her, for now. Maybe she was trying to butter him up with food, or maybe she was just trying to care for him. Maybe both. Probably both. “I’m not ready for that, yet.” And that was true. He wasn’t keen to relive any of it or put his parents through hearing about it. His mother was no hero; she had no experience with villains, but she woulda ripped the balls of those fuckers herself if she could have; he felt that keenly. It made him smile.
The day passed without incident. He stretched, to ease the ache in his muscles and attempted to go for a walk to clear his head—he wanted fresh air despite the sweltering summer heat—but his mom insisted he stay inside.
“You’re not allowed to go outside, not ‘til things clear up,” she said. Katsuki scowled in response. “Don’t give me that face, It’s not my rule. Detective Tsukauchi said it’s not safe...”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, ya hag.” He barked teasingly, ignoring the fact that he could detect the worry in her voice. She may act tough, but no doubt she was grateful for the excuse to keep him on close watch.
“You wanna watch movies?” she asked. It was something they often did to pass the time, to ease the tension, to open the gates as it were. No, he didn’t want to, but there wasn’t much of anything he wanted to do. He’d have to pack his stuff up soon, he supposed, decide what to take to the dorms and what to leave behind. Decide how to face his classmates again. How to face Deku.
Deku. Deku, who continued texting him throughout the day while Katsuki continued to ignore him. What was he meant to say? There was nothing he could say properly via text message without accidentally exploding his phone and he sure as hell wasn’t going to call him.
He suffered through precisely two romantic comedies with his mom, who made popcorn and made him feel better before he’d had enough. He stood and stretched and moved to go to his room.
“You’re still going to that school,” his mother said firmly. “Dorm life will be good for you. Your dad and I agree. And I like your teachers; they seem to get you, however difficult you must be for them.”
Katsuki froze. Not going back to U.A. hadn’t even occurred to him as an option. As long as the place could save face, and so far they had in keeping his situation under wraps. Maybe it was shady as hell, the lack of transparency, but he understood the position they were in. And he wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way of reaching the top.
“You don’t have long to pack, so you might as well start. And don’t even think about bringing all your All Might crap,” she continued. “We’re not lugging that there for you and I know your time’s better spent with studying than moving boxes.” He grunted in answer, but unable to hide the smile on his lips.
He truly had nothing better to do than to think about packing, so that’s what he did. He’d need to get some boxes, but he could at least arrange some piles, figure out what was essential. He didn’t need many clothes, just a few t-shirts, tanks, sweatpants. He’d be wearing his uniform or his hero costume most of the time. That’d be easy enough to pack. His books, of course, along with other school supplies, his laptop. No, he had no use for any of his All Might merch. No need to spend time decorating a temporary living space, either. That didn’t mean he’d leave it completely bare, but a couple of family photos would do. He moved to his shelf to sort through them when another photo caught his eye. One of him and Deku as kids, taken at Takoba beach. They couldn’t have been more than four. Sandy, wind-tousled hair, wide grins. They had their arms around each other like friends, and together they each held onto one half of a black seashell they’d found.
Katsuki ran his fingers over the image of their boyish faces looking back at him. Boys who hadn’t yet faced unspeakable dangers like shitty villains with shittier ideologies or even training exercises against strong peers. No Quirks yet, so no expectations, except for faraway, distant ones. No disappointments yet, either. The weight of the world on someone else’s shoulders. And these were boys who were inseparable. Before falling out. Casually he took it off the shelf, along with several of him with one or both of his parents at various stages of life. He set them all in his ‘to take to U.A.’ pile.
It didn’t take him long to determine what he needed or didn’t. He’d have to go shopping to get his own new linens and toiletries, of course, but no need to make a big fuss about it. Not like he was going away for university or something, this was still just U.A. The same U.A. with the same idiots. Only somehow he knew, everything had changed.
“Katsuki! Time to help with dinner!”
He sighed. This was both a punishment and a kindness. Cooking was one of his favorite tasks, though he preferred to do it alone. Two cooks in the kitchen were one too many, as far as he was concerned. His mother put him to work chopping vegetables and measuring spices and she only yelled a little when he attempted to add double the togarashi.
“It tastes better with more!” he insisted. And she teased him and pretended to be affronted, but let him get away with it because he was right. The three of them ate companionably, his father casually discussing a new project he had planned for work, his mother making a game plan for their upcoming preparations for Katsuki’s move to the dorms. Gratefully, he only noticed one or two glances between his parents that seemed to be taking stock of whether or not to bring up the kidnapping again and smartly, both seemed to decide it was not the right time.
After dinner he helped clean up before they could ask, playing the role of good son to a tee. He knew the kind of trouble he’d caused, could have caused, for himself, his family, his friends, the school. It sure as hell wasn’t his fault those assholes were villains, but he couldn’t help feeling he needed to think through some things if those losers thought he was one of them. If he was gonna be number one, he needed to be damn sure they never made that mistake again. He’d show them and everyone that he was a hero. The best.
He was exhausted by 9:00 pm, despite having done very little all day and he very easily crashed
The buzzing of his phone pulled him out of his slumber causing him to curse as he jumped, startled. Sighing, he grabbed it and found that of course, it was none other than Deku.
[Nerd]
12:01 am
Kacchan, hey. Got my fingers back, haha. No more typos. I know it’s late. I’m back home. I’m not supposed to go out, my mom’s kinda jittery after. But I need fresh air. I’ll be at the playground. For an hour or so.
Just in case you want to talk was the unsaid rest of it. No, Katsuki didn’t want to talk. But maybe he did need to. Begrudgingly, he yawned, wiped the sleep out of his eyes, and changed clothes. He slipped off his slippers and crept downstairs. He knew he’d likely get an earful for going out in the middle of the night, especially after what’d happened, but he didn’t care. He made his way down the walkway to the well-worn path towards the little playground where he and Deku had not only played together as kids, but where they’d first met. When he arrived he found Deku sitting on one of the swings, rocking gently forward and back, tracing patterns in the sand with his dumb red shoes.
“You weren’t answering my texts,” said Deku in greeting as Katsuki plopped down in the swing next to him.
“Yeah, cuz I didn’t wanna talk, shitty Deku, but here we are,” he grunted.
“I don’t want to force you, Kacchan. But I know you never do anything you don’t want to do. So why’d you agree to see me, then?”
Katsuki sighed. He didn’t come here to fight. But sometimes with Deku he felt like that was all they had left. Katsuki tried to ignore the purple welts that still puckered around Deku’s green eyes, and the bandages on both his arms, around his head, taped to his cheek, hiding his freckles and undoubtedly nasty cut. A bandaged Deku was a common enough sight at U.A. but an especially jarring one here on their playground in the middle of the night.
“Why’d you try to come after me, Deku?” Katsuki asked after a long silence.
“You really don’t know, or you pretend not to?” Deku challenged.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Katsuki grunted, but before he could say anything else, Deku dove at him, clashing their mouths together in a sloppy, toothy, desperate kiss. He groaned in surprise but not because it was unpleasant; he didn’t pull away. His heart ascended into his throat, his whole body pulsing with confusion and hope and desire, and embarrassment.
Deku pulled away, flushed, looking down at the ground, somewhere beyond the lines he’d drawn in the sand. He was breathing heavier, as was Katsuki, the boom of blood pounding in his ears louder almost than one of his explosions.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Deku appeared to panic, face nearly as red as his sneakers. He looked ready to bolt at any moment, but Katsuki spoke before he could.
“Deku,” he said, for lack of anything more profound to say. Absent-mindedly, he touched his fingers to his lips, where Deku’s had just been. Could that have really just happened?
“I like you, Kacchan,” sighed Deku, not meeting his gaze, “I’ve been holding that in for a long time. I would have held it in forever, except…”
“Except what?”
“I almost lost you. I’ve never been so scared in all my life. I felt so helpless, so useless, just like the dumb Deku you’ve always known.”
The word dumbstruck Katsuki like a punch to the gut, along with the obvious pain in Deku’s voice. He didn’t need to ask himself if he’d really contributed to Deku feeling that way about himself. He knew the answer.
“You’re not dumb, Deku. And you’re not useless, ” he said. Deku stared at him defiantly, as if daring him to prove it. Katsuki searched carefully for what he wanted to say and settled on the truth. “You’re a goddamn hero in training and you did your best to save me only I told you not to. You think I wasn’t scared out of my mind too or that I liked seeing you all bloodied up?”
Deku’s head shot up, eyes open and pained, brimming with tears.
“I like you too,” Katsuki admitted, softly. “I really didn’t think that was possible, but…”
Now he looked at the ground, shuffling his feet over the sand, tracing incoherent shapes with his toe. What he was saying was true, but he still felt like he was betraying himself. Like it was wrong somehow. It felt right saying it out loud, but also…weird. Not bad, but, new. It felt a long time coming and out of the blue at the same time.
“You’re not a villain, Kacchan. They were wrong about you.”
“I know. But what if you’re the only one who gets me?”
“I don’t think that’s true. You have friends at U.A.”
“That’s what Aizawa said too.”
“Because it’s true. You know we would have rescued you. We were prepared to... I was prepared to do anything to get you back.”
Katsuki reached out for Deku’s hand and grabbed it. “I don’t doubt it, you reckless nerd,” he said.
“Obviously, you didn’t need me though. You got out of it just fine. I should have figured you would.”
“Deku. I do.”
“Do what?”
“Need you. Or...I want you, anyway, I mean….I want you around!”
Deku let out a nervous laugh. Katsuki felt his ears burn. Jesus, why was this so embarrassing? He should be feeling elated. He did feel elated. But there was still a sense of unreality and undeservedness attached. He and Deku had just gone from never really talking through their problems to kissing ? Was that wise? Did he care?
“I’m glad you’re safe Kacchan.”
He still didn’t have the right words to say. This thing between them was still delicate and fragile; he didn’t dare break it. Not before he had the chance to even make it something strong.
“Me too,” he said. “You too. How’d you get so banged up, anyway?”
Deku looked torn, but then he spoke. “I had a run-in with this villain, Muscular. I had to protect Kota.”
“And you beat him? What’s his Quirk?” Katsuki was curious. Deku was getting stronger, no doubt, but he obviously didn’t have optimal control yet.
“It’s all there in the name,” Deku answered, “his muscles regenerate super fast or something and so he’s got super strength.”
“Like you.”
Deku flinched. Katsuki still knew very little about Deku’s Quirk. It hadn’t irked him so much recently, but still...there was something nagging about it.
“Not really, um, I mean, yeah, he was powerful, but…”
“Deku.”
“Hm?”
Katsuki leaned in and kissed Deku this time. He could feel the heat radiating between them, the fluttering of Deku’s lashes, the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach. He really had no clue what he was doing, only that he liked the feeling of nipping gently at Deku’s bottom lip and the slight brush of a sly, shy tongue on his own.
“You told me you couldn’t tell me all about it and I trust you, okay. You don’t have to tell me anything more, not yet. This isn’t an ultimatum alright, but...you can trust me.”
Deku nodded. His hands were still fisted on Katsuki’s shoulders, gripping his t-shirt with scarred fingers. He looked on the brink of tears. Katsuki wound an arm around him, and Deku rested his head on his shoulder. It felt...nice. There was a clarity he felt here, now, with Deku by his side, in this place. Like the fog had lifted between them and they were really seeing each other. Like he was really seeing himself.
When Katsuki returned home, stealth wasn’t an option. He entered quietly, but his mother was already seated at the table, hands clasped in front of her.
“Where’ve you been?”
“With Deku. Izuku .”
“I know that. Inko called me. I said, where?”
“Playground.”
“Katsuki, it’s one in the morning. You’re a target. You want something to happen to you again? You wanna bring Izuku down with you?”
“Hell no. We needed...I just...he wanted to see me.”
“And it couldn’t wait until the daytime?”
“No, actually!”
“Katsuki.”
“It was important, okay. He’s fine, I’m fine, everything’s fine. But it was in that moment when suddenly, it wasn’t anymore. His mother held him as he broke down, stroked his hair, rubbed circles into his back. But most of all she listened when he pulled away and said, “I’m ready to talk.”