Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku didn’t know what to focus on. The boy looking like he was fighting a panic attack on the corner of the street, Kirishima trying his hardest to effectively block the punches of a large bloke pounding into him, or Kacchan, who was repeatedly trying to hit the other half of the duo they were fighting with one of his explosions; failing miserably due to him teleporting left and right every other second with his quirk. 

The two villains seemed to be brothers going by their near identical features and hair colour, both a smug smile on their faces as if they were already sure of their victory. Izuku was still observing the situation, looking for a reason as to why a pair of villains would go out of their way to attack a boy innocently walking down the street — one of his age no less. He didn’t look a day older than 14, shivering and crying, cowered away as close to the nearest wall as possible. In a way, he reminded Izuku of himself back in middle school. But that feeling of relatability vanished as soon as it came.

Upon a second look, Izuku recognized the school uniform the boy was clad in, and although it was drenched in sweat there was no way to miss the golden emblem pinned to the front of the silky-red tie. This uniform belonged to one of the most prestigious middle schools in Musutafu, one that his mother probably couldn’t even pay for with three of her salaries combined. He vaguely remembers Iida mentioning this was where he went to middle school.

Furthermore, the watch around the boy’s skinny wrist and the golden ring on his finger probably weren’t any less expensive. Suddenly, it made sense why he was chosen as a target. 

“Oi, Deku! Do you mind not standing there and being fucking useless? Go help that bastard over there or something, the fucker looks like he’s ready to shit his fucking pants,” Kacchan suddenly yelled, only sparing him a quick annoyed frown before focusing on the villain in front of him again. Izuku immediately sprints over to the boy, still shivering like crazy. 

“Hey, everything’s okay now! I’m here,” he smiles, trying to calm the other down, and it seems to at least work a bit. “Can you walk?” Izuku asks, and after a moment of consideration, he quietly shakes his head. Izuku takes this as his cue to lift him into his arms, but the moment he activates One for All to leap off the ground, he hears one of the brothers yelling “Oh no you don’t!” and the next thing he sees is him teleporting towards Izuku, already preparing to throw a punch at him. The weight of the boy in his arms slows down his reaction quite a bit, and he barely manages to dodge a fist square in his face. Instead, the villains' knuckles collide with the side of his head, and the last thing he sees is Kacchan violently dashing towards Izuku and a terrified pair of eyes lighting up in a weird shade of red and green. 

The next time Izuku wakes up, he’s met with the familiar sight of Recovery Girl’s office. As soon as said recognition kicks in, he feels a strange sense of frustration bubble up in his chest. He tries sitting up, and while his bones feel heavy, he’s surprised by the lack of throbbing pain in his temples. He specifically remembers one of the villains knocking his fist straight to his head. Taking a punch from someone that size must have its repercussions, even if they were just some D-List villains. Wow, he thought, I really got knocked out by some fucking D-Lister. Izuku shook his head at the thought. Strange. 

As he finally sat himself up, he saw darkness outside the window. He must have been unconscious for at least an hour, considering the fight earlier took place just as dusk started to settle in. Suddenly, panic arose in his chest, thinking back to the frightened boy in his arms, Kacchan’s expression of rage and Kirishima relentlessly blocking repeated punches. 

The uncertainty of his friends well-being set him into a nervous state, sweating, although much more than normally. A caramel like, sweet smell starts invading his senses, one he knows all too well. After ripping his gaze away from the window, he whips his head around to see Kirishima sleeping on one of the chairs, a little bruised up but otherwise fine. His heart rate calms down. 

He cranes his head a little more to his right, and suddenly, his heart completely stops. 

In the bed next to him, he sees the image of himself, all green haired and freckled, sleeping soundly with a bandage around his head, lightly snoring away. Another wave of panic washed over him. Was this a dream? 

Looking down on himself, he opens his fists and sees a surprising lack of scars. What he sees is a pale surface, clean but roughened up. These weren’t his hands - no, this wasn’t his body. And the person whose body he was stuck in right now seemed to dawn on him. With no mirror to actually check, he starts touching his face - well, not exactly.

He starts feeling around his jaw, hard and defined, very unlike his own. His nose is sloped perfectly, much more straight and much more pointed. He didn’t dare to touch his eyes. Instead, he felt around his hair, and the rough spikes confirmed his suspicion. The realization that he was in Kacchan’s body, of all people, was not something he wanted to fucking deal with right now. Wait, that wasn’t right. His eyes widened at his own vulgarity. What the fu- heck was going on with him?

“Uhm… Bakubro? Is everything okay? Why are you touching your face and why do you look… constipated?” The voice belonged to Kirishima, sounding like he was still dazed with sleep. Izuku was overwhelmed. Should he tell him? Or wait until Kacchan, or what he assumed was Kacchan, would wake up? After staring at the red head for a solid minute, looking no less confused. 

“Uh, yeah? Yeah! I’m fine, uh, Ki- Shitty Hair! What happened?” he said in his best imitation of Kacchan which, admittedly, sucked. Kirishima seemed convinced enough, though. 

“It was nuts, dude! These two beefy guys that we fought were after the little guy ‘cause he was loaded. Like, I think his watch cost more than my house. Anyway, just before Midoriya could save him one of them knocked him out. Super manly of you to instantly dash after him like a white knight,” Kirishima added with a smirk and a wink. Izuku didn’t understand what he was insinuating, but felt his cheeks heat up anyway. The red head let out an airy laugh before continuing. “The weirdest thing was that you passed out the same time Midoriya did. I almost shit my pants. Luckily Todoroki and Jirou arrived a minute later, along with a pro. We were able to arrest the guys, so no worries!” Kirishima smiled, flashing his sharp teeth and two thumbs-up. Izuku smiled softly at him, realizing a little too late that this was not his body he was stuck in. This wasn’t happy go-lucky Izuku, this was Kacchan. Panicked, he cleared his throat and once again tried his best impression of Kacchan. “I wasn’t worried, dipshit! Don’t make me laugh. I can’t believe these D-Listers knocked me out, tch,” he grumbled, proud of himself for being so convincing. 

Deciding to test the waters, he slowly tried to move his legs and feet. When he didn’t feel pain anywhere, he stood up straight, stretched a little as a yawn escaped him, and as soon as the sleepiness wore off his eyes once and for all, he was met with a terrified pair of green ones. Less than a minute later, he heard his own voice yelling out and pointing a finger at him. Kirishima, who seemed more confused than anything, tried to help who he thought was Izuku settle down, only for him to scurry away further to the right side of his bed. 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, DEKU,” Izuku yelled, shooting Kacchan a serious look, praying he would understand. While he did stop yelling, he still sported a look of confusion and anger, one very rarely seen on Izuku’s face. “Kirishima, would you please leave for a few minutes? I have to talk to Deku about something.” The rare usage of ‘please’ within Kacchans vocabulary probably signaled Kirishima more than enough for him to leave wordlessly, although perplexed nonetheless. 

“Who the fuck are you and why are you wearing my fucking face?” Kacchan asks, threat apparent in his voice. The low and raspy tone Kacchan made his voice to be didn’t suit him at all, Izuku decided. Without really thinking about it, Izuku’s lip started to wobble and he threw his arms around Kacchan’s neck, a quiet sob escaping him. “Ahh, Kacchan! I’m so glad you’re awake, I was so confused!” As if on cue, Kacchan pushed him off, looking offended as ever. “Deku!? What the fuck are you doing in my body?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Izuku replied, crossing his arms over his chest, “you’re me!” 

Horror engulfed Izuku’s features, and much like himself when he woke up, Kacchan started frantically touching all over his face. His strong jaw was replaced by a softer one, accompanied by plumper cheeks and a button nose. His hair was no longer spikey and rough, instead fluffy and soft. “You’re fucking kidding me.” Surprisingly, Kacchan didn’t strangle him right then and there. Instead, he furrowed his eyebrows, let out an exhausted sigh and dropped his head into his lap, spewing out muffled curses one after another. 

“I wish I was…” Izuku paused for a while. Kacchan’s head did not leave his lap, but the curses stopped. Before silence dragged on, however, Izuku took the liberty of talking again. “So… when do we tell the others?” At that moment, Kacchan snaps up his head (Izuku swears he heard his neck cracking). “We don’t. Absolutely not. We will tell the teachers, and if I catch you slipping up on anyone, I will kill you. I don’t care if i have to tear off the limbs on my own body.” Kacchan said, and somehow, having him speak with that much venom in Izuku’s body suddenly seemed much more threatening. All he could muster up in response was a weak nod. “Why?”

Suddenly, his own familiar eyes shot up to look at him, narrowing just slightly. “I don’t know about you, shitty nerd, but I don’t need all these extras in our class making a fuss about this. We still have a year left in this shithole, they’ll never let us live this down.” Kacchan replied, adding an annoyed ‘tch’ at the end. “Okay, valid, so we just pretend to be fine in front of everyone? You do know you have to be… like me? And what about our quirks? And we don’t even know how long this will last! A week, a month, longer? Who even did this to us? I don’t-” Izuku rambled, until he felt a hand push down his head violently. “Shut up! You think I can’t pretend to be a whiny motherfucker for a while? I’d be more worried about you, mister goody-two-shoes,” Kacchan said, already on his feet, one hand clutching his own head and the other pushing down Izuku’s. 

Izuku found it sort of funny to finally be the taller one, watching Kacchan in his body reaching up to push down his head. Weirdly enough, something in his mind even found it... endearing? Which was weird. Definitely. You don’t just find yourself cute. Not in the “there's-butterflies-in-my-belly” kind of way. Was this it? Izuku’s descent into absolute disgrace, suddenly being weirdly, kind of unconsciously attracted to his own self? Izuku never liked his bushy hair, his huge googly eyes and the colour of it all. He’s always disliked the fact he could barely reach 5’5, a midget next to most of his good friends.

For now, he decided not to dwell on it, assuming that all this was Kacchan’s aura simply doing more for his body than Izuku ever could, even in his own skin.  

“I’ll have you know that my Kacchan impersonation is top-notch!” is what he says to avoid his own thoughts. He lightly pushed off the hand on his head and flashed a victorious smile at Kacchan, both hands set on his hips. “Well if that was it just now, then we’re in for a treat,” Kacchan teased instead, a vicious smirk playing on his lips. For some reason, this irritated the newly-blonde to no end. 

“If you thought this was it then you’re more dense than I thought, you little shit. Not a chance you won’t fuck it up in my body, though,” he grins back, taking in the sweet satisfaction of the shock in Kacchan’s eyes. But as soon as it came, it vanished again. The freckled boy leaned in threateningly close, whispering “Oh yeah? That’s a game two people can play,” before stepping back a little, batting his eyelashes and putting on a smile. “Kacchan, you’re so amazing! Hey, Uraraka-san, can you tell me a little more about your quirk and, oh, while we’re at it, can I suck your tits too?” 

At that, Izuku’s face goes bright red, the heat spreading to the tips of his ears. “I would never say that!” he complained, flushing even harder as he watched Kacchan buckling over with laughter. “Clearly, I’m much better at this than you. I would never break character like that. I hate unprofessionalism,” he scoffed, turning away his head, repressing a grin. “Hah?! You  think you’re better at this than me? I’ll show you who’s the mushiest fucker on campus! You wanna bet?” Kacchan challenged in return, holding out his now scarred hand for Izuku to shake. Within a second, Izuku joins the handshake. “Prepare to be destroyed, stupid Deku.” 

Both of them stare at each other with determined gazes and hands clasped together, until they hear the door clicking. Their gaze followed Kirishima and they let go of their hands once he stepped into the room. 

“Everything okay again, Mido?” he asked, shooting a worried look at Kacchan. Surprisingly enough, a smile appeared on his lips and he nodded softly at the other. “Yes, sorry for worrying you, Kirishima-kun!” he recited perfectly, not a trace of the actual Katsuki Bakugou left. When said redhead turned to him, Izuku rolled his eyes and grunted. “When’s the old woman coming back?” he said, immediately feeling bad for calling Recovery Girl an old woman. She was the reason he wasn’t a pile of cracked bones yet. But the need to win this bet between him and Kacchan lit a fire in him, lighting up a form of determination he hadn’t felt before. He should excel at this, shouldn’t he? After all, he had every little detail written down on his childhood best friend from four years up, no one would even notice it wasn’t actually him. He knows the way Kacchan walks, talks and acts, better than anyone else. He had to win. 

He suddenly felt like he had to somehow prove his loyalty, that he had to prove that there was no one he looked after as intensely as after him. Something like ‘Hey, look over here, look how much you mean to me’. A strange sensation bloomed in his chest, something he couldn’t quite place yet. Only after wordlessly listening to Kirishima talk to Kacchan with so much ease that it didn’t even seem like he was acting anymore, he recognized that feeling as disappointment. I wish you would’ve looked at me, too. 

After Kirishima excused himself, Izuku barely gave him a nod as goodbye. At the same time, Recovery Girl entered the med bay, her wrinkly lips turned upwards in a smile. “Ah, Midoriya, I see you’re well enough to stand up. How’s your head?” she asked sweetly, but the Kacchan from before, imitating Izuku’s normal mannerisms was gone. “‘S only a headache. But that’s not the problem here, old woman,” he replied with a grunt, arms crossed over his chest. Recovery Girl seemed slightly taken aback, but the smile found its way to her lips quickly after. “I see… you’re not really Midoriya, are you?” 

“No. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but apparently I’m stuck in the nerd’s body. You know anything about that?” Kacchan chimed in again, annoyance apparent in his voice. She furrowed her eyebrows and put a finger to her chin, but the moment of clarity didn’t seem to come. “Hmm… I wouldn’t know what happened. Neither of the apprehended villains had a quirk that would have this sort of effect.”

Izuku only vaguely remembers all that happened, not in great detail. The hit he took to his head seemingly did mess with him a little. One image stood out, though. The image of a pair of eyes, lighting up in green on one side and red on the other, struck by panic and fear. 

“I think it was maybe the boy’s quirk. I saw his eyes lighting up strangely, right before I passed out,” Izuku said. 

“The boy they attacked? Well, we couldn’t question him at all, he was terrified even after the duo was in handcuffs. All we know is that his name is Yutaka Hoko and which school he’s attending. We could contact the police to help us get into contact with him again. I guess it’s our best bet as of right now, so we just have to be patient. I’ll be telling Aizawa about the situation, you go rest in your dorms after I run a last check-up.” 

Just after she declared them good to go, Kacchan spoke up once more. “Can you tell Aizawa not to tell the class? We don’t want them to know,” he asked, a hint of caution in his voice. Recovery Girl raised an eyebrow at him, but reluctantly nodded. “I believe Aizawa won’t care as long as you don’t cause any more trouble than usual. I’ll be sure to let him know. Now go to your dorms, quick!” And with that, the two walked silently out of the med bay. It was a hostile tranquility, and it gnawed on him that not even a situation like this could spark a proper conversation. So, convinced Kacchan wouldn’t start talking, he did instead.

“Hey, uh, Kacchan… shouldn’t we discuss our quirks?” he said, halting his steps. A few seconds later, he sent him a scowl back. “Hah? This shit shouldn’t be this fuckin’ hard if even you-” Kacchan started, stopping mid-sentence, as if Izuku didn’t already know what he was about to say. 

If even you can do it.

This sparked a foreign kind of rage in him, one he’d never really been able to aim at anyone, especially Kacchan. Usually, it was more like a harsh tug at his heart, the omnipresent knowledge that nothing he would ever accomplish would truly impress him. Izuku was well aware that Kacchan and him weren’t enemies. They were rivals, and Izuku knew that Kacchan at least saw him as an equal instead of a cockroach he had to smash under his soles. Nonetheless, nothing he did ever seemed to impress the other. And for the first time, it infuriated him. 

“If even I can do it, huh? Well, go ahead, Kacchan. Try it. ” 

The venom in his voice surprised himself. He saw Kacchan gulping while his eye was twitching, but Izuku suddenly felt much bigger than before. With his arms crossed over his chest, he narrowed his eyes at Kacchan, who then adjusted his stance, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was a brief moment of green lightning cracking around his figure, but nothing of permanence. Kacchan tried again, and again, and again, but even on his fourth attempt, it lasted no longer than a few seconds. 

A shiver shot down Izuku’s spine, washing away his vicious intent with the breeze of the wind, and after blinking once, then twice, it seemed like he was snapped out of a trance. 

“Kacchan, sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude. Here, let me tell you how I do it,” he suddenly smiled again, only vaguely remembering his little outburst from before. Confusion engulfed Kacchan’s features for a second, but he gave a reluctant nod. Izuku started to observe his stance and stepped closer, trying to ease the obvious tension in his shoulders. Uncharacteristically for Kacchan, he flinched at the contact, making Izuku let go. He shot the boy a confused look. Looking just as confused, Kacchan shrugged. “I don’t fucking know what that was. Just go ahead, nerd,” he said in more of a whisper than anything.

So he did, telling him to lose the tension in his upper body to focus on his lower half. He pushed one of his legs farther out for a more secure stance and told him to take two deep breaths. “It’s important to find balance in your body. Concentrating on simply activating all of One for Alls power in one part of your body leads to… well, broken bones. You want to concentrate a small percentage throughout your entire body. Go ahead, try again,” he gave an encouraging smile and stepped back a little. This time, he was able to activate it faster and long enough to even jump up, but as soon as he was airborne, the sparks of green lightning disappeared. Kacchan let out a sigh of frustration. Izuku smiled sympathetically. “How about we wake up a little earlier tomorrow and meet on Ground Alpha? We can train a bit then?” he asked, and despite the disappointment still apparent in Kacchans eyes, he gave a nod. Just as he was about to enter their dorms, a hand took a hold of his wrist. 

“I wanna see you try, too.” 

The blonde gives him a surprised look, but turns around anyway. Looking down at his glistening palms, he focused on the heat flowing through his hands all the way to the base of his arms. Suddenly, a prickling feeling settled into his palms, and the next thing he sees are two explosions emitting from his palms. The light from the explosions highlighted the shock in Kacchans eyes, but it goes unnoticed by Izuku, who was staring at his hands in awe. 

The explosions made adrenaline flow through his blood, and in the midst of his rush, he sparked up yet another explosion, aming it above him and shooting it towards the dark sky. Kacchan’s eyes followed the light of the flames while biting down on his lip. He’s met with Izuku’s face, or rather his face, a toothy smile on his lips. 

“Wow, Kacchan! Your quirk feels great!” He didn’t respond. Silence fell between them again, just until Kacchan raised his previously downcast eyes at him again and showed him a cocky grin. “Of course it feels great, the fuck did you think?! Now let’s head inside, I need a fucking shower. Your body stinks, ” he scoffed, turning around and opening the door.

Izuku flushed at the thought of Kacchan showering in his body, and quickly hurried after him. “A-are you sure it’s fine to… just shower normally?” Kacchan didn’t even turn around. “The fuck do you want us to do? We don’t know how long this shit’ll last. What, you gonna faint after seeing how huge my dick is? Or are you afraid yours is too tiny?” for that, he tilted his head to send a smirk Izuku’s way, looking foreign on his own features. Izuku’s cheeks simply reddened. He wordlessly shook his head, and pushed past Kacchan into the building. 

The two of them get their own toiletries from their respective rooms to swap them, ultimately deciding it’d be suspicious for them to stay in their own rooms. They also switched their phone cases. In the showers, Izuku chose the shower farthest away from Kacchan, and he kept his eyes closed the whole time. 

Kacchan’s room was clean and the bed was just as comfortable as it looked. The moment he was finished with changing, brushing his teeth (with a new toothbrush, of course, they weren’t animals) and washing his face like Kacchan instructed him to, the clock read 10 pm. He dove into a dreamless slumber. 

Chapter Text

For probably the first time in ten years, Katsuki did not wake up at exactly 5:30 am sharp. From a young age, he had made it a habit to keep a consistent sleeping schedule, starting at the tender age of six. The moment he entered elementary school, he had already started to train to become the best hero he could be. That included a consistent sleeping schedule, a healthy diet and lots of exercise (well, at least he already tried at that age).  

His inner clock was infallible. Deku’s, apparently, wasn’t. After impatiently tossing and turning around in Deku’s bed for what felt like hours, he realized that he didn’t have such a consistent sleeping schedule. Once the clock hit midnight, he decided he’d better set an alarm. But instead of immediately shooting up and beginning his morning routine at 5:30 am, he spent an entire 15 minutes not letting the obnoxious sound of his alarm bother him during his well needed sleep. 

He’d never woken up feeling so groggy, bones heavy and sleep gluing his eyelids together. Katsuki was in no position to attend to his morning jog, and with the horrifying lack of basically anything to make his face look less like a dead man walking and no product whatsoever to tame Deku’s unruly locks, he simply decided to already make his way to Ground Alpha to maybe get a better understanding of how Deku’s stupid quirk worked. 

On the way through the dorms, to his utter misfortune, he met Todoroki, exiting the showers in his underwear and a towel around his neck. The other shot him an almost unnoticeable smile accompanied by a wave and, as if on reflex, he gave him a toothy grin and greeted him with a cheery ‘Good morning, Todoroki-kun!’. The aftermath included Katsuki almost barfing on the spot, especially since the greeting left this mouth with such ease that it made him uncomfortable.

Katsuki had overall been feeling less like himself, besides the fact that this was literally not his body. It seemed almost as if Deku’s attitude acted as a sort of barrier, taming his anger. It had tamed him so much that he couldn’t even get angry about that. He’d assumed that this was some sort of side effect to the quirk they had been hit by, as it seemed like Deku was experiencing similar things.

“If even I can do it, huh? Well, go ahead, Kacchan. Try it.” 

The memory of last night left a bad taste in his mouth. Deku would never say something like that, even if it was well deserved. He didn’t even mean to say that, it was as if on cue, the words had slipped out of his mouth, and his failure to master Deku’s quirk seemed to act as karma. In fact, he had expected One for All to be hard to handle. After all, it was All Might’s quirk. But seeing the other master not only All Might’s former quirk but his own with such ease made him swallow hard. And stuck in his body, he couldn’t even lash out about it. 

He’d hoped that with a night's full sleep, he was able to do more about One for All, but that hop vanished the minute he woke up groggily and more tired than before. Even after he'd arrived at Ground Alpha, stifled yawns escaped him every minute. But that didn't stop him from trying. 

He assumed his position, just like Deku had shown him, concentrated on the energy flowing through his body, and soon enough he heard a familiar sound of lightning cracking around him. He enjoyed the feeling of the power surging through him, it was not unlike the sensation he usually felt in his arms, but different nonetheless. 

This time, before pushing his feet off the ground, he tried to even out the pulsating power even more throughout his body. This time, he landed on his feet with One for All still activated, and a sense of pride welled up in him. 

Although he had spent a considerable amount of time training with Deku to help him master his quirk, he never paid much thought to the inner workings of One for All. He'd recognized Deku’s improvement in regards to the control of his quirk, but he had no interest in asking about it. Katuski wished he had, now, but how the fuck was he supposed to predict this shit? 

This surge of power lasted for two kicks in the air to practice Deku’s Shoot Style, before the air around him settled again. At the same time, he saw a blonde boy approaching at a distance. It was strange, seeing himself smiling with a skip in his step. Katsuki resented it. 

“Kacchan! Hi! That kick looked great!” Deku said, as cheerful as ever. Katsuki simply replied with a grunt of acknowledgment, and then he yawned again. “You tired?” the blonde asked, leaning in closer to inspect the dark circles underneath his green eyes. Katsuki quickly whipped his head to the side and glared at Deku, scoffing at him. “Well, the fuck do you think? I’m not the one with the shitty sleeping schedule. I already miss my body,” he sighed in response. Deku smiled sheepishly, and an apology rolled off his tongue. 

“Anyway, shall we start training, Kacchan?” Katsuki responded with a nod and Deku stepped closer, asking him to do the same thing he did before he came by. 

Much like before, he had enough control to kick upwards once, and then the power vanished. Deku gnawed on his lip. “I think you focus too much on… focusing, ” he suggested and Katsuki shot him an angry look. “I know! I know! But listen. Do you think at all about activating your own quirk?” he asked, and Katsuki slightly shook his head in response. “See? It's an extension of yourself. A lot of the issues I had with controlling One for All at first came because I didn't view it as that, it was a foreign power source, one I felt I had to summon everytime i wanted to use it. But it's different. There's never a point in time where it leaves my body, just like your quirk! ...Does that make sense?” Deku said, ending his monologue with a hint of uncertainty. For the entire time, he had looked at his hands, talking excitedly, and the minute Deku tried to raise his head, Katsuki did as he said and activated One for All, not sparing it a thought. Instead, he focused on slamming his shin into Deku’s side. The latter, caught off-guard, immediately lost his balance, violently hitting the ground far to the left. The sheer force of One for All wasn’t registered in his mind, it seemed. 

Katsuki followed Deku with his eyes, staring in shock at his own flying body, and as soon as he was distracted enough, the green lighting burnt out once again. When he saw the irritation in Deku’s eyes, he couldn’t help the grin spreading on his lips. While the blonde was dusting himself off, he swore he could see his eye twitch for a second. 

“Great idea, to kick me in the side with a quirk that provides superhuman strength, ” Deku grunted, the annoyance clear in his tone. Part of him wanted to challenge him, how dare he talk to him that way, but the anger was nowhere to be found, so he could only muster up an ugly snort. “I’m so sorry, Kacchan! ” he mocked, batting his eyelashes at Deku while grinning like an idiot. The other simply sighed and shook his head, still clutching the previously targeted side of his waist. Katsuki’s eyes wandered to the left side of Deku’s (or his own?) waist, and he had to swallow down the taste of guilt. The beginnings of an apology formed on his tongue, leaving a bad taste. To distract from all these… mushy emotions, he put on an amused smirk again. “Hey you fucking wimp, Katsuki wouldn’t cry because of a little kick. I thought you ‘hated unprofessionalism’?” he said, adding air quotations to the last part. Surprisingly, Deku reciprocated the devilish smile. “And Izuku wouldn’t call Kacchan a wimp, but maybe he should start,” he laughed in return. 

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at him, instinctively raising his hand to release an explosion as a warning, like he always does. But there was no tingling sensation in his fingers,no energy pulsating in his palms and no warmth spreading over his calloused hands. It was foreign, unfamiliar, and uncomfortable. Without so much of a glance at Deku’s expression, twisted in a mixture of confusion and worry, he dismissed what had happened and ordered him to tell him more about One for All. Katsuki could almost feel the questions burning on Deku’s tongue, but apparently, the latter knew better than to pity him.

Except for little bits of advice sprinkled throughout, correcting the errors Katsuki was making, Deku stayed silent. There was nothing to be said. Although this had really settled the feeling of “Oh. This really is different” for Katsuki, the true weight of the situation only anchored itself after they headed to their dorm building again.

After Katsuki had been deemed secure enough to fight with his quirk to pass his lack-luster performance off as simply being under the weather, Deku had sent a soft smile his way and called it a day. It was uncomfortable to see his face with a soft and genuine smile, one that almost resembled Deku’s usual sincerity. He blamed it on all the mushy feelings that must come as a package deal with Deku’s body when he felt his cheeks flush. 

It was certainly weird that even stuck in his own body, Deku made Katsuki gravitate towards him. Even while he was talking with Katsuki’s gruff voice and smiled with Katsuki’s sharp eyes, it all felt so much like Deku that it hurt. It really put some things into retrospect for him, things he had been forced to think about, things he had purposefully avoided to think about in the comfort of his own body. While it was weird to have blood rush to his face at the thought of someone that now appeared in his head with the same face he had seen in the mirror for seventeen years, it gave him some sort of… clarity. 

After their first year ended, he felt like a flame stripped of the oxygen keeping it alive. He had reached this milestone, one he had always been certain he would reach. There was not a doubt in his mind that he would finish his first year at U.A. with a performance any less than perfect. And that’s what happened; he held his report card in his hands and felt pride bubble up in him at his near perfect grades ( fuck Present Mic for only giving him a B just because his essays sometimes featured curse words). What he hadn’t accounted for, though, was Deku, receiving his report card with him, smiling at him and telling him to keep up the good work. That he wasn’t surprised in the slightest that he had done so well. 

Katsuki didn’t remember many instances in which he held anything back, but the usual sparks of rage didn’t flare up in him. He wasn’t tempted to cuss Deku out, to tell him he shouldn’t look down on him. Because he knew for certain he never has and Katsuki didn’t look down at him either. 

With the fire in him burning low, he didn’t say “Well, I am surprised that you did so well”. Because he was, truthfully. He was surprised that in one year, Deku had gotten to a level that required him to work hard to prevent him from catching up. Katsuki had realised that a while ago, but for the first time, it seemed thrilling. Not infuriating or nerve-wracking, but thrilling. 

It was like someone had taken off a pair of glasses he had worn for all his life and smashed them right in front of him, only to realize that without them, the world seemed much clearer. Suddenly, Deku did start to sound a lot like Dekiru. 

(He had thanked him, albeit low and quiet. Deku had never smiled so brightly at him.)

However, it didn’t take long for Katsuki to discover that adjusting to this newfound perspective brought a lot of changes with it. Unfortunately, neither did Kirishima. As soon as Katsuki started harbouring a new kind of fondness for a certain someone’s freckles, their green locks or their shimmering smile, Kirishima knew. He couldn’t even bask in the feeling in his chest whenever Deku laughed, especially about something he said. Katsuki decided to try and push him away and lock up all those feelings so no one would see this side of him ever again. 

And he did that for a while. But after living through all he did, experiencing as much as he did and feeling too much at once, he couldn’t engulf himself in that rapid, burning flame again, the one that made him so unreachable to even the people he trusted. He didn’t really change, not at all. He was still loud and brash and bold, but for the first time in years, he allowed himself to feel properly. Nothing had visibly changed about his behavior, but the unfamiliar sensation left him in between a push and pull of being uncomfortable and… free. Somewhere in this newfound liberty, he found it in himself to let Kirishima in, this time without letting the redhead do all the work, without letting him push through the little cracks of his surface. He had opened his gates, even if only for one person, and it felt good. 

Except, he wanted to take it all back. 

They both walked back to the dorm building and they were silent all the way. Only when they hear the familiar clatter of dishes and the light conversations between their classmates, his shoulders relax. When he looked over to Deku, he saw him do the same. But as soon as they entered the kitchen together, keen on having breakfast, they stood face to face with Kirishima. And the fucker was smiling - no, smirking. Not not at him, but at Deku, stuck in his body, looking somewhat nervous. 

“Ah, Bakugou! Where did you two come from?” he raised a suggestive eyebrow at Deku, and he barely saw him gulp before putting on one of Katsuki’s signature scowls. “Get off my dick, Shitty Hair! You my mom or something? We were just training because God knows this fucker needs it,” he said, pointing his thumb at Katsuki. Ouch. That was most definitely something Katsuki would say, but considering the circumstances and that he was absolutely shit at using One for All, he had the sudden urge to spit in Deku’s face. Had he been in his own body, he might’ve just done that. 

Unfortunately, when Kirishima switched his focus to Katsuki, asking if he was alright, he had to answer in some way that didn’t make him seem like a huge asshole. “A-Ah!” he tried with the stutter, “I’m fine! I think I’m just a little under the weather because of.. um…” hesitation was key, “the fight yesterday, you know? I got hit pretty hard, and my head is still hurting a little,” he finished with an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his head in proper Deku fashion. To be fair, a few months ago he wouldn’t have been able to pull this off. Even now he has to resist gagging. But ever since they transitioned from first years to second years, now class 2-A, he’s been watching Deku. Properly looking at him. And he’s been picking up on the stuff he was too blind to see over the years. 

Not the obvious things, like the muttering or the way he covers his face when he’s embarrassed. No, Katsuki starts seeing things he’s never noticed before. Like the way his nose scrunches up lightly, right before he tells a white lie. Or the way he tries to repress just that when he lies about big things, like when people ask about his quirk. He noticed how every time someone fusses over him, like Kirishima did now, he scratches the back of his head and instinctively takes a step back once they inch closer. Deku is never impolite, but whenever Kaminari asks dumb questions, he presses his lips together ever so slightly and narrows his eyes just a little. It’s so slight - on purpose, he assumed - that he feels like an idiot for having picked it up. 

“Can you fucking let us through, now? I’m starving,” Deku said, ripping Katsuki from his thoughts. Kirishima defensively raised his hands in defeat, a sly smile still on his lips, though. Once he moved away, Katsuki headed to the fridge, pulling out two containers. One has Deku’s name on it, “Midoriya” written in messy Kanji. The other has his own name on the lid, although it’s written much more neatly. He wordlessly handed Deku the second one, whispering something about how it’d be suspicious if he suddenly broke his tradition of eating self made breakfast every morning. The blonde’s features shifted from surprised to thankful and he whispers a quick thank you along with a small smile, before it goes back to a scowl. Conveniently for Katsuki, Deku missed the light red flush accompanying his freckles. 

After taking a look around, he watches as Uraraka waves at him excitedly. Oh. Right. Katsuki frowned a little, but made his way over to the table that Uraraka, Iida and Todoroki were occupying. He dreaded every step forward, for good reason, too. As soon as he sat down next to Todoroki, of all people, they started bombarding him with questions. “Did you sleep well?” No, he thought, but he nodded instead. “Are you still hurt? How’s your head?” Yes, it hurts like a bitch, he wanted to say, but quickly dismissed it for a slight headache. He expected another intrusive question, but instead of Uraraka, it’s Todoroki who spoke up. 

“Are you okay, Izuku-kun? You look a little… tense,” he asked, eyeing him with his usual expression, although his eyes appear slightly narrowed. Katsuki starts to sweat. They couldn’t know, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek. “Perhaps it’s because you were with Bakugou this morning, Midoriya?” Iida suddenly chimed in, looking at him just as intensely as Todoroki did. Even Uraraka eyed him suspiciously. Shit, he thought, what the hell has the nerd been saying about me? In the midst of his panic, he blurted out a quick “Ah, uhm. No, everything’s fine! Katsuki and I were just training a bit,” and tried to resume eating his breakfast, but the three pairs of eyes just fixated on him more. His rice suddenly become hard to swallow.

“Did you just call him Katsuki?” 

Fuck. 

“O-Oh, did I? It must have slipped, I guess.” He didn’t even have to fake the stutter. He felt pathetic. But apparently, his statement didn’t help at all. When he raised his head to look at Uraraka, she was three inches closer to his face and the mischievous glint in her dark brown eyes made his insides churn. 

“Slipped? Why, do you call him Katsuki in your dreams?” she chuckled, but Katsuki could only return an annoyed glare. “In my dreams? Why the hell would I do that?” he grunted, and immediately wanted to kick himself. Deku didn’t swear, and going by his friend’s shell-shocked expressions, they knew that too. Lucky for him, Uraraka dropped her smug expression and retreated to laughing. “You sure you didn’t hit your head too hard?” she asked jokingly and when he responded with an awkward chuckle, they all got back to their food. He didn’t notice the suspicious glares Todoroki continued to throw his way. 

Class started off normally, Aizawa giving both him and Deku a quick nod once he entered the classroom before starting the lesson. It felt so ordinary that if it weren’t for the scarred hand holding the pen and the messy handwriting covering the page, he would’ve felt like himself again. While he had to be incredibly over the top to raise his hand to answer a question, he thanked every God that he switched bodies with Deku instead of Kaminari, he wouldn’t have lasted a second pretending to be a goddamn idiot. 

Neither him nor Deku got any funny looks from their classmates, the only exception being Aizawa, who seemingly couldn’t contain his snort upon seeing Katsuki determinedly raise his hand to answer the first question. The same thing happened when he observed Deku, answering annoyed and grumpily, sagging down lower in his seat. 

The momentary pause did nothing to permanently lift his spirits, though. Once lunch came around, his heart quickly plummeted to the floor again. The realization that he couldn't sit with his usual group only hit him when he was already standing three feet away from his usual table and both his and Deku's friends shot him funny looks. Deku simply shot him a sympathetic look right before settling down next to Kirishima, and Katsuki took it as a cue to head over to the seat next to Uraraka. He barely missed the odd look Todoroki had sent his way. 

“Hey, Deku-kun! What was the matter just now?” she asked once he was in his seat, referring to the fact that he was awkwardly standing in the middle of the cafeteria just now. “Oh! Um, I wanted to ask Kirishima-kun something, but then it slipped my mind!” Perhaps it was his shy laughter that he was sure he perfected or the fact that they all thought he hit his head too hard, either way they chose to lay off after. It was directly after lunch that left a sour taste in his mouth.

Right before being able to leave the cafeteria, he felt a hand on his shoulders. Upon turning around he was met with a pair of gray and blue eyes and he swears that the horrible excuse of a smile was all he could manage. 

“Izuku-kun,” he said, his face and voice seemingly unmoving. “Y-yes, Shouto-kun?” Katsuki swears he had some bile build up in his throat. They just had to start referring to themselves with their given names.

“I know about your secret.” 

And that is when time stopped for Katsuki. It was probably the fucking slip up this morning, he thought to himself. For a minute or so he simply stood there, staring at Todoroki who seemed to patiently wait for his reaction. He felt pathetic. Not only did he lose the bet after a mere day, he also failed it because of Todoroki Shouto, the guy whose best conspiracy about Deku's quirk was that he was All Might’s illegitimate love child. It simply added salt to the wound. The only positive was that he could finally stare at the other with all the amount of contempt that he wanted to, so he did. 

With the most vile look he could muster up in his… circumstances (it was baffling that Deku's face automatically seemed to morph into a smile), he stared at him and said: “Listen, you fucking half ‘n half bastard, if you even dare to say a single word about this to anyone, I'll make sure it's the last fuckinh thing you do.” 

Todoroki, however, did not look like he was expecting that. “Are you… Bakugou?” he said in what could barely classify as a whisper, and Katsuki wanted to faint. 

“What the fuck? Isn't that what you meant with ‘I know your secret’ ? That me and Deku switched bodies?” he asked in a hushed voice, staring at Todoroki in bewilderment. “No. Not at all. What I was trying to insinuate is that I thought you-- That Izuku has a crush on Kirishima,” he simply responded, not looking bothered at all. 

Katsuki really wanted to blow something up. In the midst of his frustration he tried to calm down by balling up his hands in his hair and clenching his teeth, but it really wasn't the same thing.

“Wow, Bakugou, I must say I'm impressed. I would have never guessed that it's you in Izuku’s body. Although I think he wouldn’t appreciate you ripping out his hair, or whatever you're trying to do here.” The calmness in his voice was infuriating to Katsuki. Of course he didn't figure it out. “Well, I promise I won't say anything. I think it's enough of a compensation that I get to see you pretend to be as kind as Izuku. Really, you're super convincing,” he continued, as if he was purposefully trying to tip Katsuki over the edge (to be fair, he probably was trying to). 

But before he could ultimately bubble over, something clicked. 

That Izuku has a crush on Kirishima. 

“Why would Deku have a crush on Kirishima?” 

Todoroki’s eyes widened at that. “Oh. Well, this morning when he cornered you, you looked pretty flustered. And earlier in the cafeteria, you were saying you wanted to talk to him and got all flustered again. So I put two and two together, or so I thought. Also, when you called Ba-” A pause. He cleared his throat and moved on. “Nevermind. I forgot that you're not Izuku again. You look quite like him.” 

Katsuki really wanted to punch him, but his thoughts lingered on the phrase he paused on mid-sentence. “What were you trying to say, fucker? Sounded an awful lot like Bakugou, ” he grunted, but it didn't sound threatening at all. 

“Doesn't matter. Anyway, I guess I was wrong. You simply are a pretty good actor and you miss your best friend. It's sort of sweet.” And with that, the newfound anger pushed away all coherent thoughts in his head. 

“ Say that again and I’ll rip your face off, shortcake.” 

“I think I'll pass. Have a great day… Izuku-kun ,” he said, and promptly walked out of the cafeteria. Katsuki didn't have a chance to follow. 

Chapter Text

Izuku was terribly exhausted. It was strange to think that a group of four people could wear him out more than an intense training session under the supervision of Aizawa, but it seemed as if that was the case. As he plopped onto his - Kacchan’s - bed, he took a second to feel bad about even thinking that. 

He liked each and every one of the people Kacchan had grown close with in their class, but they were, admittedly, a truly energetic bunch and very high maintenance. 

They took the liberty of teasing and poking fun at Izuku throughout class, lunch and every little break in between. While he did a decent job at keeping up the veil of anger and annoyance that surrounded Kacchan at all times, he could not use it as a force to strike back the way the latter would do. He did the best he could do to react in a rage-filled manner instead of a bashful and flustered one, but going by the endless teasing, the blush on his cheeks betrayed him thoroughly. Overall, they were drastically different from his own friends, and even if that was by no means bad, it was hard to adjust to. 

Kaminari proved himself to be the biggest enigma for Izuku. He’s always been sort of drawn in by the blonde and showed interest in his infectious energy and his odd personality, but even being this close to him for a day didn’t bring him any closer to properly get behind his thought process. And that revelation? It was a thorn in his eye. Izuku prided himself on being an observant person and felt confident in his analytical abilities, but somehow thinking of an intricate plan to stop villains from spreading their malice came much easier to him than figuring out just what Kaminari would do or say next. 

Today at lunch, while Izuku was trying to silently enjoy the spicy curry he was looming over, he had apparently been caught shooting quick glances over at his usual table. He felt uneasy looking at himself from another person’s perspective, especially someone who was surprisingly good at imitating his mannerisms. Therefore, every now and again, his eyes wandered to the green haired boy he saw in the mirror everyday. It was Kaminari who eventually called him out on it. 

He sat opposite of him and lowered his head to stare into his red eyes as he was hunching over his meal, a nasty smirk playing on his lips. “Ah, what’s that? Is Kacchan looking over to spy on Midoriya and his friends? What’s up with that?” The usage of the nickname stirred something up in his guts, but the uncomfortable feeling was quickly pushed to the side once Kaminari spoke up again. “Wow, Bakugou, is that a blush? Am I seeing things?” he said, suddenly inching closer to him, and Izuku barely has enough time to swat away the hand reaching out to poke at his pink cheeks. He resented the heat welling up everywhere above his neck and desperately tried to push it down, but the four pairs of eyes trained on him made it much harder than it already was. 

The moment Ashido’s lips seemed to quirk up, Kirishima raised an eyebrow at him and Sero flashed his teeth, all in his direction, his thoughts became a cluster of “how am I going to fix this” and “if Kacchan finds out I will be dead meat”. That is, if Kaminari didn’t miraculously come to his rescue in the most obscure way possible. Out of every scenario he had already mapped out in his head in the minute Kacchan’s friends were eyeing him with mischief, none of them came even close to what actually happened. And, how could they?

Because what happened was Kaminari pulling out his phone, swiping at it furiously, until he turned it around to face the four of them, pure excitement in his eyes. With his other hand, he repeatedly pointed his finger at the dimly lit screen as if the picture itself wasn’t attention-grabbing enough by itself. 

The photo he was proudly showing them was honest to god barf, all yellow and gross with little bits of bell pepper scattered around in it. Izuku didn’t even have to fake the disgusted and irritated look on his face. “Kaminari… what the fuck?” Sero butted in, looking more confused than anything. In response, the guy in question just shoved the device closer to their faces and began talking adamantly about literal puke. 

“Guys! Guys! Listen. Yesterday while training I wanted to further improve my quirk without becoming an idiot—“

“You are an idiot.”

“Shush! Anyway, so I tested all sorts of things with my electricity and I felt surprisingly good! Unfortunate miscalculation, I guess, because as soon as I was in my dorm, right before I got to pee—“

“Why are we friends?”

“Hush now, Sero, I’m talking! Anyway, I wanted to pee but I suddenly felt so nauseous that I couldn’t even hold the puke in anymore. So I barfed all over the floor, and created this masterpiece,” Kaminari finished proudly. Izuku could only narrow his eyes at the very misplaced usage of the word masterpiece. “And what does that have to do with anything, Dunce face?” he chimed in, finally having regained his composure and a normal complexion. 

“Just look at it, Bakugou! It looks just like you,” he replied, looking so convinced it hurt. Izuku’s irritation shot through the roof. “ What?” It was barely a whisper, but it sounded so threatening it even surprised himself. 

“Oh god, he’s right!” Ashido said, jumping out of her seat while pointing at the horrendous photograph. “Look, the yellow of the barf sticking out in every direction represents your hair, and the two pieces of paprika are exactly where your eyes are, and they even have the same color!” 

“Very well observed, Mina!” Kaminari praised her, but he simply had to add something to finish off his sentence. “But you know, the reason I didn’t show you this phenomenon earlier is because of one crucial thing that seemed to tip off the equation: the paprika underneath Barf-Bakugou’s eyes. But just now, when you blushed like a teenage girl in love, it all came together. This, my friends, is Barf-Bakugou: Blushing Edition!” he finished off, making the whole table erupt in laughter. Except for Izuku, who walked on a thin line between wanting to laugh along or feel true irritation and anger on Kacchan’s behalf. In the end, he had to go for the anger either way, so he threatened Kaminari to stop laughing and put the phone away if he didn’t want it shoved up his ass. He didn’t tell him to delete it, though. 

Ashido was similar to Kaminari in the aspect of their infectious energy, but she lacked the weird part. She was very much like Izuku had expected high school girls to be, but he quickly came to realize that it was impossible to rate the girl on only a surface level. What Ashido showed the world was her bubbliness, her excitement and her sense of humor. It was fascinating to see her motivate the people around her, albeit while being loud and nosey, and Izuku couldn’t help but be drawn in by her as well. 

Talking to people was Ashido’s undeniable strength. While it was true that she had a habit of sticking her nose up too far into people's business, she had well grown out of being unbearable and had become a reliable classmate and friend to confide in.

Back in his own body, Izuku had definitely fallen for the ease surrounding her and had used her shoulder to cry on. It was unexpected, to say the least, because of the disconnection between them initially. Izuku admired Ashido and her drive, and Ashido admired Izuku and his tacticals and physical strength. They worked well together, but for the longest time, that was all there was to it. What Izuku failed to notice behind her boldness was her effortless understanding of humans and their emotions, and one night he came to realize another side of her that proved to be astoundingly heroic. 

He was seated in the common room, nightfall having approached long ago, a cup of untouched, hot tea burning against his fingers. Izuku couldn't care less about the pain and resolved to stare blankly out of the window, the faint glow of the moon successfully calming him down just enough. His cheeks were stained with the remnants of salty tears and the redness rimming his eyes stood out strongly against his green irises. It was a heartbreaking sight to anyone familiar with the usually bright boy. 

He was so utterly focussed on repressing the pain he felt through his hands that he failed to notice the person descending on the stairs, a warm blanket in their hands, approaching him quietly. He noticed Ashido’s presence just as she unfolded the blanket and draped it across his shoulders, settling down next to Izuku on the couch. Carefully, as if not to startle him, she took the cup burning between his palms into her own hands and set it down. She carefully soothed the flesh of his hands in between her own, and although it didn't help the pain, he felt as if she was fixing something . 

“You know, Uraraka is a great girl,” she’d said. “And I'm sure you feel the same way,” she followed up, stroking a thumb over his scarred hand when she felt him tense up. For a moment, he felt afraid. He didn't want her to explain his own feelings to him. And she didn't. “I'm one-hundred percent sure that a tactical guy like you can make her realize that you don't have to be in love with her to show her that you love her.” 

That had been all she said, but somehow it fixed the part in him that was threatening to break at the thought of losing his first friend to something he wanted so badly to give her but couldn't. They sat in silence after that for what felt like hours, and only when he noticed her shivering in her pyjamas he draped the blanket across the two of them and whispered a silent thanks while hugging her. The incident remained unspoken between them, and so did the disaster of Ochako confessing to him.

That night, he came to realize that Ashido treated feelings like delicate glass. She held them in her hands and protected them with her kindness. That's why when his eyes wandered over to his usual table, he didn't feel the need to hesitate. Underneath the layers upon layers of excitement and energy wrapping her up, Ashido hid an astounding feeling of safety, one you couldn't help but bask in. He felt safe when he shot her a small smile instead of a frown. 

When it came to Sero, he thought he had a little more insight on him, but even with him the lines got blurred. Izuku perceived Sero as a pretty standard guy, all the while appreciating his inspiring confidence and his combat abilities. But what he came to realize throughout the day is that Sero appeared to be the very backbone of their little group. He and Kirishima were both on the tamer side of the spectrum and often tried to smooth things over when Kacchan got all up in his head. That was something to be very clearly observed, even from afar. But actually being Kacchan in a situation where he had to act like he got all up in his head offered him a new perspective. 

Once Kaminari came up with the idea of actually showing the picture of his… puke to their other classmates, the first thing to rise up in Izuku was panic. Panic about how Kacchan would rip his head off, especially when they’d tell him that the great Bakugou Katsuki blushed at the lunch table. The next thing to well up in him was anger. Anger that originated on Kacchan’s behalf but soon after spiraled out of control. One thing after another, he had Kaminari pinned down in the common room with one hand, and his phone in the other, the threat of an explosion playing on his lips. In the eyes of the others, this was normality, and no one really batted an eye at the scene. There was Kirishima, trying to pull him off their friend’s back, Iida, who lectured him all throughout and some of the girls trying to talk him down. 

Izuku felt his own control dwindling as he got pushed back further and further in Kacchan’s head, so much so that not one of the people trying to solve the situation could breach through his conscience. He felt like he was being led by foreign emotions and going by the bewildered look in the actual Kacchan’s eyes, he was just as confused as he was. Already he felt a familiar tingle in his palms, and he repressed the need to set the sparks free. And that was the moment Sero earned a significant amount of respect from Izuku.

In the next few seconds, he felt the stickiness of Sero’s tape wrap around his biceps and then a violent tug, pulling him off Kaminari’s body. The blonde shot Sero a look of relief and thanks, and he nodded back at him in response. “Bakugou, calm down, buddy,” he warned him, slowly removing the tape from his arms and taking the phone out of his hands to throw it back at Kaminari. Sero’s usual toothy smile and his kind eyes resolved to something more serious, successfully grounding Izuku again and helping him in ridding himself from all the anger stored up in him. It was then that he realized that this was not him reacting to Sero’s scolding but Kacchan. These were Kacchan’s emotions running wild, even apart from his body, and this was Kacchan’s hidden conscience responding to his friend. 

(While everyone was settling down again, Todoroki and Katsuki were sitting on the couch, still dumbfounded from the scene that just unfolded in front of them. “Are you… sure that wasn’t you right there?” Todoroki questioned Katsuki next to him. Just as confused, he replied, “I would tell you to shut the fuck up if I wasn’t confused as well.”)

Izuku wanted to apologize to Kaminari and had to refrain from doing so, and the latter’s carefree expression helped to tone down the guilt he felt. He retorted to the usual scowl on his face and felt sort of helpless in this situation, successfully reaching a point where he hit a wall at being Kacchan. 

Two hands softly touched his shoulders and released the tension by doing so, carefully shaking off his uncertainty. The hands belonged to Kirishima, who smiled at him from behind. “How about we go blow off some steam in one of the school gyms?” he asked, flashing a smile at him. However, the offer wasn’t something Izuku was sure he should accept. His eyes shifted towards the couch occupied by Kacchan and Shouto, and he did his best not to make it too obvious that he was looking for reassurance in Kacchan’s expression. The latter slightly nodded in his direction, as if to green light that “blowing off steam” in the gym was something they did regularly. It settled as an uncomfortable sensation in his guts, that this was something he hadn’t noticed before. With a grunt, he walked towards the exit and Kirishima followed him close behind, but he didn’t leave without texting Kacchan to meet him there later. 

Upon their arrival at the gym, the first thing Kirishima did was release an exasperated sigh while shaking his head. “What was that? You haven’t done something like that in months, ” he complained, looking at Izuku with disappointment in his eyes. The blonde was at a loss for words. It was true that he and Kacchan had their fair share of vulnerable moments, but each time those did happen, Kacchan’s responses would be unpredictable and surprising. Furthermore, Izuku had no idea about the level of trust between Kacchan and his friends beyond a surface level. He felt desperate to breach through his walls but despite every attempt to get closer to his childhood friend, everything he did always remained private to an extent. He couldn’t properly decide if Kacchan would yell at Kirishima or confide in him, because neither of those options seemed wrong or right. So instead of answering, he simply lowered his gaze to the floor. 

Kirishima was a kind person, Izuku knew as much. He was always supportive, even of the people he didn’t consider close friends. Izuku was friends with Kirishima, sure, and he appreciated everything the red head brought to the table, but they were never close. They built each other up in times of weaknesses and he has fond memories revolving around Kirishima, but to Izuku he never exited the surface level. He was Kacchan’s best friend, something he was never able to achieve, and despite wanting to push down the ugly feelings of jealousy and envy, they never completely left. Therefore looking at Kirishima was never without the presence of a sour taste in his mouth, and he hated it. He hated that he couldn’t push his own irrationality down to see someone for who they were instead of who they were to others. 

“Ah, well, don’t worry too much. I think Kaminari was pretty chill about it. I guess it’s been a lot lately, right? With you and Midoriya?” he assured him after Izuku assumed he had stayed quiet for too long. But the last part of the question left him thinking. In a moment of curiosity, he let his mind slip through the implications of what Kirishima just said and he eyed him with confusion. “...With me and Izuku?” he asked, realizing his mistake too late. 

Silence. 

“Izuku? Um…” Kirishima paused for a second, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights, “how about you tell me about that after you got some good punches in, hm?” he finished, activating his quirk while letting a smug smile play on his lips. Oh, he thought, that’s what “blowing off steam” means. Izuku hesitated for a bit, trying to not punch himself in his own guts for that awful slip up. Instead, he sparked the sweat on his hands alight and spared Kirishima a glance. “Can I use my explosions?” As if it was the most obvious thing in existence, the red head raised his eyebrow at him and nodded. With a bit of hesitation he stepped closer to the other and sparked another set of explosions before ultimately launching the next one at Kirishima. In the following minutes he continuously fires explosions towards the other, who stays in his hardened form covering his head with his arms. Izuku repeated the same motions for a while, basking in the liberation of the energy in his arms and releasing it through his palms. He didn’t know how much time had passed when he eventually decided to stop because of the increasing firepower of the explosions. Kirishima looked just as exhausted as him, naturally, after continuously blocking each attack that was thrown at him. 

Even though Kirishima basically served as a human punching bag just now, the smile on his face is unwavering. The feeling in his guts didn’t completely vanish, afterthoughts still vocal in his mind, but he spared him a smile nonetheless. But once the silence settled in uncomfortably, Kirishima decided to get back to his previous question. “So, since when do you call Midoriya by his-” he started, before a third voice chimed in, echoing through the room. 

“Kacchan?” the voice asked as the one it belonged to approaches the two of them. “Oh, Sh- Kirishima-kun, you’re still here,” he stated before shifting his glance towards Izuku, “I didn’t know what ‘later’ meant specifically. Am I interrupting?” he explained politely, and Izuku felt like he was watching a video of himself. The blonde glanced over to Kirishima, and what Izuku would describe as a lucky intervention must be utterly annoying for Kirishima. The latter, however, rid himself of any annoyance displayed on his face and smiles back at Kacchan. “No worries, Midoriya. We were just finished,” he responded, shooting one last smug look at Izuku that quickly evolved into a genuine smile and then left the gym. 

Spending the day with Kirishima in Kacchan’s body was difficult for Izuku. It served as a vivid reminder of the things Kirishima was able to achieve in a year and a half that Izuku hadn’t been able to do in thirteen years. All day, he let him playfully punch him, throw his arm across his shoulders and allowed him to banter with him in all sorts of ways because he knew that Kacchan would allow it if it was Kirishima. That thought alone was enough to deflate Izuku, all the while feeling bad about being so irrationally jealous. 

It was at that moment, when Kirishima left the gym that Izuku started seeing things differently. Kirishima’s goal wasn’t to tear Kacchan away from him, to taunt him about how much closer they were. Even though he had his own things to gain, he put his own needs aside to let him do his thing. Kirishima didn’t have any other intentions other than being a good friend to Kacchan, and Izuku felt disgusted that he ever had any other thoughts floating in his head. It was simply hard for him to see someone so important to him think of another as a better friend than he was. But was that really all there was to it?

On his way out, Kirishima stopped next to Kacchan to throw an arm around his smaller figure and pull him close to himself. “Don’t worry, Mido, he’s calmed down,” he laughed while looking into Kacchan’s eyes, who warily stared up at Kirishima. Simultaneously, he felt an unexpected sensation in his chest, one that definitely didn’t originate from himself. It felt similar to all the times he’d seen Kirishima with an arm around Kacchan, and only when the redhead took his hand off Kacchan’s shoulder did the feeling disappear. His train of thought could barely be stopped by the sound of the gym door shutting close and Kacchan standing inches in front of him. The moment he registered they were finally alone, Izuku let out a long sigh and let his shoulders drop. 

“Ahh, Kacchan, being you is so hard!” he complained. Kacchan spluttered. “Stop fucking whining. I actually had to listen to everything your whiny little friends had to say. On top of that, I’m still tired because of your fucked up sleeping schedule and this god damned headache won’t go away,” he said, furrowing his brows and crossing his arms. Izuku couldn’t help but feel bad for him. “Ah, well, usually I drink a cup of Momo’s special tea against my headaches. It’s in one of my drawers in my dorm, if you want to try it,” Izuku sympathized, and the lack of an answer from Kacchan signaled him that he was at least considering it. “Anyway, what did you want me to come here for?” Kacchan asked him softly, lowering himself so he sat down on the concrete floor of the gym. Izuku followed his lead and dug his elbows into his thighs. “I thought it might be helpful if we talked about each other's day so we won’t be confused once we’re back in our own bodies. How’s that sound?” he suggested, propping his chin up on his palms. Surprisingly, Kacchan easily agreed and motioned for him to start first. 

He truthfully told him about his difficulties in keeping up the proper attitude, but was yet again surprised to see that Kacchan wasn’t all too mad about the few blushing incidents, but scolded him nonetheless. With a disgusted expression on his face, he retold the Barf-Bakugou story and saw Kacchan’s face morph into a similar disgusted manner, but commented on how Kaminari had done worse (“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, staring blankly at nothing). When they got to the point of the admittedly very one-sided fight between him and Kaminari, Kacchan’s interest perked up as he questioned what that was all about. 

“I… I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. I didn’t want Kaminari-kun to show around the picture of, uh, his puke because I was sure that was in your best interest,” -- Kacchan agreed with a shudder -- “but suddenly… I don’t know, this anger came over me. And I couldn’t really control it. I don’t really think those were my own emotions, it’s like my own feelings got… flooded by yours, ” he tried to explain. Kacchan nodded, “Yeah. I think I had that too, today. I just couldn’t get angry. I feel like this fuckin’ quirk didn’t just make us switch bodies. I think there’s more to it.”

Izuku thought back to just a few moments ago, how he felt unusually angry about Kirishima’s arm draped around his own -- Izuku’s -- shoulder. He figured that those feelings must originate from Kacchan, as if his essence still lingered in his body. “Maybe if we feel strongly about a certain situation we’re in, our actual conscience reacts to these moments, as a sort of side effect of the boy’s quirk.” 

“Yeah, that would make sense. I talked to Aizawa just now and he told me that the rich kid is gonna show up tomorrow. For his sake, I hope he can switch us back then,” Kacchan informed him, and Izuku felt relief settling upon him. “Now hurry up and tell me about what happened with you and Shitty Hair.” 

Izuku launched back into his story and admitted his slip up, asking him what he should do to fix it. “Happened to me too, today. I just said it was a slip up, and when he gets weird about it, just yell at him,” Kacchan shrugged. “Why would he get weird about it?” Izuku questioned. The faintest hint of pink dusted over Kacchan’s cheeks, blending together with the abundance of freckles connected by his nose. It was strange to see it on himself, and a distant part of him wished he could have triggered the same reaction while Kacchan was in his own body, but even the mere thought thrilled him. “For one, Shitty Hair gets weird about everything, and your friends got really fuckin’ weird about it when it happened to me,” Kacchan interrupted his thoughts, his cheeks having paled again. Izuku tilted his head in curiosity. “Asked me something about whether you call me Katsuki in your dreams. If you dream about beating me I’d say dream on, you delusional fucker.” 

This time, it was Izuku’s turn to feel the blush creeping to his cheeks. He thanked every single god that Kacchan’s natural conclusion was that Izuku was competitive even in his dreams. In reality, Izuku dreamed of them as kids, replaying their countless sleepovers in his head and how they would look like nowadays, both of them curled up in their tents at the beach their parents used to take them to. He dreamed of Kacchan going to middle school together and studying for tests instead of the harsh reality that actually summed up their time at Aldera. He dreamed of lunches spent together on the weekends, reciting different stories from their respective friendships groups to make each other laugh. He never dreamed of him calling Kacchan ‘Katsuki’, but of Kacchan calling him Izuku, reminding him of the time where there was no bad blood tainting their relationship. 

“I guess it’s a nice thought, but in my dreams I always call you ‘loser’,” he lied, shamelessly using the opportunity to play along with Kacchan’s explanation. It earned him a punch to his left arm, but he almost couldn’t feel it. Instead of lingering on the subject, he encouraged Kacchan to tell him about his own day. 

“Your friends are so… nice. But in the worst fucking way possible. Because everytime Round Face fucking complimented me, I felt like I had to compliment her back. She almost combusted when I told her that her hair looks nice,” he complained, and Izuku almost felt inclined to tell him he shouldn’t overdo it with the compliments in regards to Ochako. It wasn’t like he never said nice things to her, the opposite, actually, but he was always careful in choosing his words. But right before, it was like a clump restricted the words from coming out of his mouth. Ochako wasn’t too keen on telling the class about her failed confession -- neither was Izuku. With an exception of Ashido, who only accidentally caught her leaving his room with tears in her eyes, they kept the whole ordeal under wraps. It was embedded into the nature of most of their classmates to show sympathy for something such as a broken heart, but Ochako decided she didn’t want it. She feared the pitying looks of their friends and felt like it would put even more of a strain on hers and Izuku's friendship, and neither of them wished for that. It was hard to properly build up their trust again, and they didn’t want to put their friendship in jeopardy again. So it was decided to keep quiet. 

Izuku didn’t think that Kacchan would care much about the situation or taunt him about it; he was sure he’d even promise to keep quiet. Nonetheless, his lips remained sealed. He simply waited for Kacchan to resume the conversation. 

“Anyway, nothing really happened. Lunch was uneventful, and after that-” A pause. Before Izuku could question it, Kacchan continued. “I mean, you were there for afternoon classes. The only annoying thing is that Aizawa thinks this is fucking hilarious. ” Izuku chuckled at that, because yes, Aizawa seemed to be enjoying their swapped mannerisms much more than he should. “The only good thing about your friends is that they’re not fucking pests that won’t leave me alone when I tell them I wanna be by myself to study. Yours aren’t fucking stupid and need help with every single assignment.” 

“Speaking of studying; I’m afraid that tomorrow you have to study with them. Wednesday is study group day,” he said, smirking when he sees Kacchan’s face fall. 

“Yeah? You think that’s funny? Well I told the idiots that I’d help them out with homework tomorrow, so you better prepare for a fucking shit storm. Dunce Face is a force to be reckoned with,” he responded, a smirk just as devilish on his own face. In return, Izuku’s face fell along with his shoulders. 

The two of them sat there in silence after, and only when Izuku stood up to tell Kacchan that they should probably head back, the latter tugs on his trousers. His eyes fell back to Kacchan. 

“You don’t have a crush on Kirishima, do you?” he asked to his surprise, and Izuku’s eyes widened at that. “What?” Dumbfounded, he narrowed his eyes back at Kacchan, caught off-guard by the question. It dawned on him that this probably meant that oh, Kacchan is probably asking me if he should consider competition. Not that he thought of himself as a threat against Kacchan’s determination, drive and exceptionally handsome face and physique. A shudder made its way through his veins, feeling as if his blood temporarily ran cold. A strange sensation pooled itself in his stomach, and as if on cue, a realization presented itself in his mind. 

I’m jealous because I like Kacchan. 

It’s not like he’s never thought of it before. That maybe his admiration wasn’t just that in its entirety. That there was more to the image he kept in his head. But Izuku never let his thoughts stray that far, Ochako’s shattered face a fresh memory in his mind, because he knew he set himself up for disappointment. He almost readied himself for the incoming impact of heartbreak that came along with this revelation, when his lips moved without thinking. 

“No, I don’t. Do you?” he’d asked, surprising not only himself but Kacchan as well. What looked like a brief display of relief changed drastically with the furrowing of dark green brows and a shimmer of disbelief in his eyes. “What the fuck? No way. I’d rather cut off my balls than pound his ass,” Kacchan replied with an insulting amount of disgust in his voice, faking a gag. “Ouch,” he winced on Kirishima’s behalf, but he’s glad that the impending feeling of doom was able to freely leave his body. 

Now, he lay on Kacchan’s bed, exhaustion slowly settling into his muscles. It was nearly 8 pm, and he wasn’t surprised to feel sleepiness wash over his body as he pulled the blanket closer to him. 

This time, he dreamed of Kacchan and him on a familiar patch of grass covering a hill close to their homes, basking in the sunlight while holding hands with intertwined fingers. He glanced over to see Kacchan facing the sky with closed eyes, a clam and precious smile playing on his lips, sunlight blurring the pale colour of his hair with his skin. He looked beautiful under the light, and Izuku couldn’t help but sigh in contentment. 

“Hey, Katsuki,” he called, and the boy in question turned his head. 

“I love you.” 

Chapter Text

Nostalgia was a weird feeling for Katsuki. As he stood in the All Might clad room shining with blues, reds and yellows, he felt like he was four again, standing in Deku’s room and secretly being jealous of all the merch he had collected. It almost felt like some sort of homesickness, a certain type of yearning to be that four year old again. Just a simple brat with simple feelings, a worldview untainted by his ego. 

Katsuki was always prideful and confident, but back when he was still so young, those sentiments weren’t laced with hatefulness. Back then, having big dreams didn’t mean crushing the ones of others. Deku came to mind -- when he was still Izuku -- watching him in awe even before the whole world followed suit. Katsuki used to be just a boy, until everyone convinced him he was more. 

And if he was more, everyone else was less. 

Deku was less. 

And suddenly, his eyes staring at him in awe weren’t enough anymore. 

In the masses of praise, Deku’s green eyes were simply another drowned out light, and he taught himself not to care anymore. And he didn’t. He didn’t care for so, so long, until Deku started nurturing the same confidence Katsuki had from a young age and he was forced to stare right back at them. In a moment of shock and, most importantly, clarity, he couldn’t bring himself to resent them. Those forest green eyes that followed his every step since the beginning of their lives. Eyes that reminded him of easier times, that made him wistfully aware of the heart he had buried along the way. 

But with each step he took with Deku, with the entirety of his class, he dug it out from under the ashes. And each look into those bright green eyes felt like medicine mending his wounds. Like many things in his life, though, he took them for granted. Again. 

Staring into the mirror, with Deku’s reflection meeting him, he took his time to properly inspect the pair of eyes that had properly infected him with their kindness. A rich hue of green surrounded the streaks of dark sacramento, the colour bleeding outwards like pine trees circled around his black pupils. The outermost part of his eyes was specked with flicks of jade and emerald, pulling it all together like a finished masterpiece. But one thing didn’t feel right. 

The spark that made these eyes feel so… alive was nowhere to be found. Every single detail had been laid bare to Katsuki, except for the very thing that made Deku -- well -- Deku. A familiar strike was cast through his heart, one he had only recently rediscovered. 

As a kid, whenever Deku would smile at him with those big, freckled, dimpled cheeks, a spark of joy and pride rushed through his heart. 

Later, it was replaced by hatred. 

Nowadays, the sensation felt much like it used to, joy and pride cursing through his veins, but it felt drastically different at the same time. Back then, the feeling wouldn’t fade away with a warmth spreading in his chest and his cheeks, and back then he didn’t desperately yearn for more of it.

Katsuki was never good at emotions, but he was sure he got this one figured out. He just wasn’t ready to say it. Not to Kirishima, definitely not Deku, but not to himself, either. It was a private thought, one he felt he had to reserve for later, once the time was right. Especially not in someone else’s body, he thought, and chuckled to himself. 

He stared back up at the mirror again, smiling to himself. The lack of the spark that so uniquely belonged to Deku had him torn between being sad and feeling special at the same time. Because it meant that they weren’t Deku’s default. That it wasn’t just some ordinary look he shot Katsuki every time he did something impressive. It was amazement in its purest form, and Katsuki promised himself he would nourish it and keep it safe. Keep Deku safe. 

Too bad Katsuki was bad at keeping promises. 

If it weren’t for the throbbing headache pushing against his temple, he would find himself in deafening silence. It was quiet in the dorm rooms around him, the clock striking hours late in the night. Instead of leaving together with Deku, Katsuki had stayed behind in the gym to properly practise once more, the thought of having to fight in combat tomorrow biting at his nerves. He tried and tried and tried to control One for All, but his practise bore no fruit. It was unlike himself to take so much time to get the hang of something, and he felt terrible about it. His body was aching after his training, and his arms weighed heavy on his sides as he slid off his clothes to replace it with a towel draped around his waist. His legs felt like lead, involuntarily pulling him towards the ground as he made his way downstairs to the showers. As the sweat crusted on his body washed off along with a portion of his exhaustion, he wondered if Deku always felt like this, or if it was simply because of his inability to use One for All. He guessed that maybe his misuse of Deku’s quirk had negative effects on his body, because it had to be that, right? Deku couldn’t possibly carry around this aching pain every day… right? 

Once he shut off the stream of hot water and the cold prickled at his skin, it felt easier to walk up the stairs again, but the headache was still playing its part in his head. His mind briefly wandered back to his and Deku’s conversation back at the gym, and the words tea and drawer entered his mind. He didn’t want to believe that a silly bag of tea would get rid of his problems, but the mere thought of whatever magic Yaoyorozu must keep inside the expensive tea bags tempted him, to say the least. 

In the end, he opted for the tea option and once he was fully clothed in Deku’s pajamas, he tried figuring out in which drawer Deku had stuffed it in. Unfortunately, the idiot hadn’t specified the exact drawer, so Katsuki didn’t have much of a choice other than invading his privacy by snooping through them. In retrospect, they were already invading each others privacy with being in each other's bodies and all, but it still felt weird to pry through his personal stuff, flip through piles of notebooks shoved messily into his desk drawers, sort through All Might stickers and hastily written sticky notes, but the one thing that stuck with him was tucked into the topmost drawer, noticeably tidier than all the others. 

A strange feeling bloomed in his chest as he looked upon the four neat stacks of photos arranged beside each other in the wooden drawer, failing to notice the tea bags right next to them. He hesitated a little before reaching to grab them, but before he knew it he was looking through the glossy photos and polaroids, taking in the images. Some of them were recent, he noted. There were a few selfies of him and Uraraka, licking on ice cream cones. Another few  group pictures of him and his nerdy friends on a picnic. One of Deku looking up at All Might in his muscle form with a wobbly smile, the following in the exact same setting and clothes - this time with All Might all bony and tired, but still smiling. The one he liked most, admittedly, was one of him and Todoroki wearing matching All Might t-shirts, all smug looking with their middle fingers up ( What a way to spite IcyHot’s old man, Katsuki thought). 

The next pile was unsurprising; it was a wide array of blurry photos showing all sorts of Pro Heros, taken from far away in the middle of battle. He almost laughed because of Deku's obsession, until he remembered why all of the photos looked so shitty. Memories of a phone in an All Might themed case being chucked at the floor flooded his mind, the sound of breaking glass in his eardrums. He quickly put them back where they belonged, swallowing down the uneasiness in his throat. 

The next few photos felt a little more personal. They were mostly family photos from when Deku was still a toddler; captured memories of a young Inko and her little boy. Beach vacations, camping trips, birthday parties and various miscellaneous things, all featuring Deku and his mother, smiling brightly. Back then, he hadn't known Deku yet. Katsuku briefly wondered who exactly had taken these photos, if not his own parents, but his question was answered once he got to the last photo. He could tell it was a professionally taken photo, going by the pearly white backdrop behind the cushioned white couch, on it sitting all three Midoriyas. Deku was merely a baby, wrapped in a blanket covering everything but his little face, a few tiny green hairs poking out of it. He lay in the arms of a tall man, curly black hair framing his face. All three of them had the same smile on their face - the family resemblance was uncanny. 

Katsuki had never met Midoriya Hisashi. He was but an enigma, and just until now he couldn't even match a face to the name. The man looked kind, the telling Midoriya smile fitting right on his lips. He felt a little weird, not having known what Deku's father looked like for so long. Then again, Deku never liked talking about him anyway. A deep, foreign sense of sadness settled in his stomach, and, before he knew what was happening, a tear slid down his freckled cheeks. 

(It didn't feel like his own sadness.)

Yet again, he tucked the stack away along with the odd feeling in his chest, picking up the final photos. They were what originally caught his attention, after all. 

A blonde boy with sand on his cheeks and a bucket in hand laughing next to a boy smaller in size, wet green curls sticking to his face. They were clad in matching All Might swim shorts, holding each other's hands. 

Katsuki vividly remembers his family's vacation together with Deku and Auntie Inko, probably because it was their last one. They went on this sort of joint vacation about three times, all before Katsuki's quirk manifested and hope of Deku getting one vanished. The Bakugou’s owned a nice beach house near the coast of Japan and it used to be Katsuki's favourite place on earth. He remembered him and Deku digging holes just to fill them with water and catch jellyfish in buckets to watch them go about their day. Him and Deku splashing their mothers with water while they were relaxing in the sun. Him and Deku playing water polo with his father. Him and Deku racing each other in the water after Katsuki finally taught him to swim without floaties. Away from everyone and everything with just him and his favorite people. Everytime they were there, Katsuki was all smiles and giggles, and so was his mother. In retrospect, his father was probably the happiest to see them like that.

Once the Midoriya’s were scratched out of their vacation plans after Katsuki insisted that someone as weak and useless like Deku would only sour their stay, his parents eventually gave into his pleadings. Because that green haired kid in the photo he was looking at was Izuku, and the tear stained face that looked up at him in trembling fear was Deku. 

The sting that flashed through his heart was telling him that maybe, it was time for Deku to become Izuku again, not only in his head but in Izuku’s as well. 

The thing Katsuki still had to overcome came as a realization along with the sight of all these pictures. While the meaning of the nickname had long lost its meaning, it was always “He isn't a Deku anymore” when it should be “He was never a Deku to begin with”. 

Katsuki didn't feel sorry often. His sharp tongue was mean, harsh, and maybe sometimes unjust. But all the things he's spat at people in his life were simply his thoughts and feelings brought to life. He could, of course, spend hours upon hours feeling sorry for the hurt he has inflicted on others, but apologies fall dead on his tongue. A sorry won't change the fact that he believed all the things he told other people. Katsuki is mean, harsh, and maybe sometimes unjust. But he's also sincere, and he was never a liar. 

But with… Izuku, it's different. A quiet and pitiful chuckle escapes him. It was always different with Izuku, wasn't it? 

Katsuki prided himself on being a winner, but when it came to Izuku, it was hard to think of himself as anything but a loser. As he flipped through the stack of pictures showing two laughing, content kids in each one, he couldn't help but be angry at himself. Angry at himself that his self-hatred refrained him from making the little boy with his bouncy curls and plush, freckled cheeks smile all the time. 

Because that's what it was, wasn't it? 

All the things he's told Izuku over the years they spent in each other's proximity were things he didn't truly believe at all. He said them as if to make him believe all those awful things just to distract from his own faults. 

Izuku was born a hero. A kind soul with no place in his heart for hatred, not even those who wronged him or discarded him like Katsuki did. 

Katsuki was born with a powerful quirk. A bratty kid with no self control and anger boiling at his core. The spirit Izuku was born with, destined to save and help those in need, was a shape Katsuki had to mold his own spirit into, first. And that journey was hard and far from over , but his younger self couldn't bring himself to admit that he just wasn't equipped with it right from the beginning. 

Katsuki has often indulged the remarks by civilians and even villains alike, how “he shouldn't be a hero” and how “he was meant to be a villain”, more than he'd like to admit. Long before he even realized it, Izuku supported the weight all those words carried right along with him on his shoulders.

Because if there was one truth that had proved itself to be undeniable through everything, it would be that Katsuki and Izuku always quietly led each other through life and all its issues. There was no point in denying that Izuku always reminded the blonde to be good and that he served as a guidance, even throughout all their feuds and fights. Simultaneously, even when Katsuki was so sharp around the edges he felt that all he did was hurt the other, his strength and confidence kept Izuku afloat. 

(Katsuki learned to trust Izuku when he told him that.) 

A last glance at their childhood memories brought a smile to his face, and eventually, he tucked them back into their place. Only then he noticed the teabags waiting for him, and with a content warmth in his stomach, he took one of them and headed downstairs. 

He was light on his feet as he made his way to the dorm kitchen, careful not to wake anyone - Katsuki knew best how important a good night's sleep was. He rounded the corner to the kitchen just as quietly, but couldn’t hold back the choked scream that escaped his dry throat after locking eyes with a pair of two-toned ones. 

“Half ‘n Half?” he said in surprise, eyeing the other curiously as he was slurping on a small bowl of what Katsuki assumed to be cold soba in the dead of the night without any light to illuminate the room. Without so much as a shift in his neutral expression, the boy in question just held his hand up as a greeting and continued his meal. 

“Why the fuck are you eating dinner at this hour?” Katsuki asked in bewilderment while Todoroki simply shrugged. “Got hungry and couldn't sleep. Why are you awake?” 

Deciding not to pry any further about Todoroki’s questionable decisions, he simply sighed and held up the small bag of tea. “Headache. The nerd said this shit from Ponytail works like a charm.” 

Todoroki nodded as he set down his bowl of noodles, “I can boil the water for you if you want,” he offered, just before Katsuki blanked. He remembered a particularly uncomfortable situation in which he eavesdropped on Izuku and Todoroki at their first sports festival. He remembered a story about boiling water spilled on the face of an innocent child and suddenly, the red scar on the boy's face seemed all the more striking. Impulsively, Katsuki shook his head, long before he could come up with an explanation. Todoroki raised an eyebrow at him, and his look shifted to suspicion. 

“Uh- Don't worry. The boiler is right here anyway you can- um. Just eat your food,” he stuttered in a manner very unlike himself and he could see that Todoroki bought none of it. He simply stood up from his seat to fill the dorm's kettle with water and put his hand below it, lighting a burning flame beneath it to heat the water. His gaze was cast away from Katsuki.

“You know, Bakugou, we're all heroes here. Part of our job is to collectively face our fears and overcome them for the sake of others. And part of that means not letting ourselves be held back by the past. We're here to change the future because we're unable to change the past.” 

Katsuki didn't say anything, and neither did Todoroki. He didn't have to, they both knew what this was about. Without another word, the tea bag was taken out of his calloused fingers and dipped into the steaming water. Katsuki wondered how Todoroki knew he took his tea with three spoonfuls of sugar. 

They sat in silence, but Katsuki's thoughts were loud. He thought of Izuku and Todoroki’s words and he thought that maybe, just maybe, Todoroki wasn't as dense as he believed.

Chapter Text

Just shortly after his alarm awoke him from his sleep, Izuku heard a soft knock on his door. It almost sounded hesitant, so softly did it ring in his ears. He pulled the sheets of Kacchan’s bed from his body and was positively surprised - like each morning he’s been waking up in the blonde’s body - to find that the dull ache he’s been feeling constantly in his own body wasn’t pounding on his muscles. Izuku dreaded the day he’d unavoidably wake up with the familiar pain again. No matter how comfortable this little break was, he knew he’d have a hard time adjusting to the pain once more. 

Another knock sounded through the door, this time less hesitant and more sure of itself, which made Izuku leap out of the bed, put on his best Kacchan face and only open the door only a smidge in typical Kacchan fashion. A flash of red caught his eye and upon further inspection, he noticed it was Kirishima, who had backed off from the door and was positioned to flee back into his own dorm just before the two of them locked eyes. The redhead’s hair was laying pin straight on his shoulders instead of combed up into the usual spiky up-do, and Izuku just then realised how little he got to see of Kirishima’s natural hairstyle — so surprised that he let the one thing slip that would blow his cover just a few seconds later. 

“Kirishima?” he said in a soft and quiet voice, laced with surprise at the early morning visit, and the redheads face immediately morphed into an expression of fierceness and determination instead of his prior hesitance. 

“I knew it!” he whisper-yelled, pushing open the door Izuku was peeking into the hallway from and inching painfully close into his space. “You’re not Bakugou at all!” 

The sinking feeling of being caught felt much more alarming in that moment than it should have. In response to this sudden attack, as Izuku couldn’t help but identify it as, a multitude of explosions cackled from his now very sweaty hands while he simultaneously tried to hide his face behind his arms. Now, in retrospect, for someone as analytical and thoughtful as Izuku, it wasn’t the best idea to cover his face in embarrassment while someone was just inches away from him and the firing radius of his explosive, wildfire hands; he really should be glad that Kirishima avoided any damage by activating his quirk in time. 

If Kirishima had any doubt about his assumption before, it was definitely gone now. But, a wave of relief seemed to have crashed over him as the furrow of his brow smoothed itself out once he let his eyes hover over Izukus’s frightened posture, and he took a step back. 

“Midoriya,” he figured, and Izuku slowly lowered his arms to rest back at his sides and his expression fell with defeat. He would lose, once again, to Kacchan. And what a failure it will be! The one person he has followed, admired, observed, was beyond his reach. Perhaps he hadn’t realized it then, but part of why he was foolish enough to consider a bet as risky as this, to betray the trust of his classmate so blatantly and carelessly, was to prove to Kacchan just how well he knew him. Like always, Izuku had found himself woven into the web of all the miscellaneous thoughts and feelings he associated with the blonde, and he had overestimated himself like a fool. 

Izuku had always taken pride in his keen observations; even when sleep deprived, hungry and paranoid he had managed to stay focused before, but the enemy that would prove itself triumphant was a little bit of drowsiness clouding his senses. But worst of all: this minuscule detail was immediately picked up by Kirishima — someone who truly knew Kacchan, someone the latter had invited into his inner world. Not like Izuku, who was still watching from behind the gates like an intruder. 

Once again did he feel the bits and pieces of irrational resentment towards Kirishima glue themselves together when he had previously thought he had resolved them, and it didn’t help his situation whatsoever. He liked Kirishima so, so much and he didn’t want to harbor this negativity towards him.

“Bro, what’s happening here? Why are you in Bakugou’s body?” 

Izuku didn’t really have anything intelligent to say. His head was still reeling with all sorts of emotions that he assumed to never have occurred in Kacchan’s mind prior to all this, and it simply added to the embarrassment that he was feeling. He was beyond frustrated when he felt a shameful warmth rise to his face and the temperatures were merely increasing when Izuku’s blushing cheeks caught the red-head off guard. 

“I knew something was up ever since that weird Barf-Bakugou incident. Granted, I wasn’t thinking… this, though. Care to explain?” Kirishima’s expression was stern, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

“I messed up. No one was supposed to know…” he whispered under his breath. With his disguise revealed, he naturally felt his habit of mumbling coming back to him. He wanted to provide Kirishima at least some sort of answer, but he didn’t even know where to begin. Even though this mess started as an arguably innocent bet — a common occurrence in their relationship — it grew into something much larger; although the whole ordeal hadn’t changed much. The only considerable change had been in his own personal feelings towards the issue and everything around it. Although Izuku had never felt particularly secure in his friendship to Kacchan, he had never before questioned it as much as he was now. Instead of growing closer to Kacchan, like he had honestly expected, the exact opposite has happened; a deadly rift had damaged the foundation of all he knew about their friendship and about Kacchan himself, even. The person he would have once claimed to know better than himself was farther away than ever, now. 

With at least some of his thoughts detangled now, he looked up from the ground to meet Kirishima head on to try to explain this predicament, but a strangely solemn expression rested on the red-head’s features. Oh no, he thinks. He mumbled again. 

“Listen, Midoriya. However strange it may be, the connection that you and Bakugou have is something special. I think your problem is that you keep trying to mold it into something different, to force it into a shape that it isn’t meant to be in. Don’t you see how crazy that is? Your strength has always been in the flow that you both naturally settle in, dude!”

Izuku wasn’t convinced. His insecurities were continuously pushing every rational thought to the back of his mind, making him feel small under Kirishima’s gaze. He was facing Kacchan’s best friend in the world; the one who had so swiftly and easily taken the spot he had so desperately wanted all his life. 

“Don’t say things like that.” Shit. “You know you’re the one person Bakugou could never live without, right? If you think I know him so well, trust me on this one.” 

Kirishima left right after, and Izuku got the chance to calm down and get ready for the day. He is admittedly calmer after Kirishima reassured him, but mainly he’s embarrassed; he let himself spiral more intensely than ever before. Although Izuku is incredibly anxious at all times, within the recent years he has learned to be more in control of his feelings — even the negative ones. Before this particular incident, he has always succeeded in shouldering the pressure of his doubts, whereas just now he felt almost entirely overpowered. It must be a side effect of the quirk, he thinks. After all, being in someone else’s skin is bound to be somewhat disturbing, no matter how well you think you know the person. 

Classes were relatively uneventful; Izuku was eternally grateful that there were no exams coming up, terrified of the thought of messing them up in Kacchan’s name. Oddly enough, messing up has been the only thing on his mind since yesterday evening, really. He feels like a middle schooler again, waiting for disaster to crash down on him. There is a prickling sensation underneath the layers of his skin, tingling like a fuse anticipating a flame. But the fire never reaches him, at least not until lunch.

“Kacchan!” a soft voice he knows all too well sounds from behind him as he walks to the cafeteria. He turns around, barely able to keep his casual expression, and is met with the biggest smile he’s ever seen — did he really smile like that? 

“Yeah?” 

Kacchan looks left, right, then behind him. The moment he realizes that no one is around, his shoulders drop and he sighs. “Your life is exhausting, truly. But it’s cool to have people whose notes aren’t fucking worthless. Anyway. We should team up for quirk practice today. I’m still not getting your stupid quirk to work properly, and I won’t let anyone clock my ass today.” 

“Yeah. Sure.” Izuku cannot, for the life of him, think of anything else to say. He just stares at himself in the body of another, the strangest feeling squeezing his insides. And Kacchan notices, stares back, furrows his brows. “Way to take something way too seriously. Keep up the act, though. See ya, Izuku.” And with that, he skips away towards the cafeteria. Izuku. 

Izuku. 

Chapter Text

“So you didn’t think to tell me about this, huh?” 

Katsuki glanced over his shoulder to reveal Kirishima staring back at him, arms crossed and brows furrowed, with his back leaning on the white tiles of the bathroom walls. Katsuki knew that he must’ve found out, but he wasn’t ready to give up the act yet. 

“Hm? What are you talking about, Kirishima-kun?” The innocent look was starting to become way too easy for him, he realized. The red-head walked up to him, and the look on his face was stern. There was no way that Katsuki could talk himself out of this one. He knew what would follow, after all. 

“Come on, Bakugou. We’re friends! Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Why would I? So you could make it awkward? Try anything funny? Yeah, we’re friends. And I know you. You can’t keep your mouth shut for nothing.” 

“Well since you’re so sure about that: What if I had slipped up and told him? I mean, I assumed he was you!” 

Katsuki sighed, and his expression turned serious. “Not once since you’ve known have you ever said it out loud. It’s like you’re the one that has to be embarrassed instead of me.” Kirishima tried to keep up the act, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed him. Katsuki knew he’d struck a nerve, Kirishima’s tell-tale eyebrow twitch revealing his true feelings. 

“That’s not true at all, and you know it. Sorry I didn’t tease you about having a crush on Midoriya, I guess,” he scoffed, but it was obvious he felt at least some sort of discomfort. And, much like he expected, so did he; although the feeling in his gut was much more nuanced than he had anticipated. The usual sensation of being flustered and frustrated were laced with some sort of nervousness, as if Kirishima had told him something he hadn’t known before. His — or rather Izuku’s — body seemed to reject this information. In fact, the discomfort overtook him so intensely that he couldn’t help but throw up on the bathroom floor, surprising not only himself but especially Kirishima. 

“Bro, what the hell?” he yelled while rushing to Katsuki’s side, supporting half of his body so he wouldn’t collapse to the floor. The dizziness made Katsuki’s head spin and his vision blurry, barely able to keep another swell of vomit down. A minute passed before he regained his balance and is able to look Kirishima in the eyes. He was sure the pale horror in the latter’s face was reflected in his own; at least if his face reflected his feelings in any way. 

“What was that? No offense bro but having a reaction this visceral to talking about your crush is not healthy, I think,” he added with a light and hesitant laugh, hand still tightly wrapped around his arm to hold him upright. With his knees still a little weak he pushed himself towards the sink, refusing to be beaten by a little nausea, trying to avoid the mirror and the reflection in it. 

(After all, he has to admit seeing Izuku unwell has irked him as a result of recent changes in his feelings towards the other.) 

“I can’t even tell you what that was. I’m as surprised as you are,” he answered, washing away any liquid remains stuck to his lip. 

“I should’ve known his reaction this morning wasn’t normal… Midoriya acted just as weird when I came to him earlier,” Kirishima supplied, scratching his head in wonder. Katsuki turned around, irritated. “What do you mean ‘this morning’?” 

“This morning, when I thought I was going to see you but turns out your body was occupied. I mean, I was sort of rooting for you to get intimate with Midoriya, but this isn’t exactly what I had in mind. What the hell happened? No more excuses.” Kirishima’s face was set, firm and most of all serious. 

“So the nerd did lose the bet!”

“Bakugou! Talk to me!”

He sighed. “Fine. When we were fighting those shitty D-listers the other day, the knucklehead we were saving used his quirk on us accidentally. He switched our bodies or whatever. They’re still trying to figure out who the brat is so he can fix it. For now we’re stuck like this.” 

Kirishima supplied a few calculated nods, looking down, deep in thought. “But why not tell anyone? Seems more complicated than it had to be.” 

“I didn’t want people to be all up in my shit. This is weird enough as it is and I just wanted to let this pass quietly.”

“What if I had told Midoriya, thinking he was you?” 

“Honestly, better than you teasing me for the rest of my life about how I ‘finally got inside of him’. Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t have done that, fucker.” The red-head shuffled a little, embarrassed but not fighting the accusation.  

“I’m sorry… I just wanna see you happy.” Kirishima looked to side, ashamed. He was unsure whether this was a result in being stuck in the body of someone as sappy as Izuku, but Katsuki gave the red-head a few pats on the back and reassured him it was fine — successfully reinstating the smile on the other’s face. 

“While I hope this gets sorted out soon, just know that I’m there for you, okay?” A sincere look graced Kirishima’s features, and Katsuki couldn’t help but feel sort of grateful. Instead of brushing it off like he usually would, he replied with a quick but sincere thank you, and walked out of the bathroom. 

“I’m not touching that barf. Technically, it’s not even mine. Someone else will take care of it.” Kirishima didn’t seem to keen on cleaning up the mess either, so he simply nodded and followed Katsuki out of the bathroom. 

All throughout lunch did the dread of hero training weigh on his shoulders. He was wholly afraid of messing up in front of everybody — part of it because he despised failing at anything, and the other part because he feared messing things up that Izuku has worked hard for. The pressure of possibly breaking bones and exhausting this everlasting ache he was feeling even more was unbearable; a feeling he was used to in his own skin, but impossibly frightening in the body of somebody else. The more time passed, the more he felt trapped in this foreign flesh. He felt like an intruder, someone who was sabotaging himself and deceiving everyone around him. Izuku’s friends were obviously worried, but left him his space once Katsuki reassured them he was just feeling a little under the weather. Todoroki, of course, knew that wasn’t the reason and cornered him shortly after lunch was over. Déjà vu, he laughed in his head. 

“You seem more off than before. Has anything happened?” The worried expression on his face annoyed him less than he’s used to. “I don’t know. Izuku’s body is just being weird.” 

“Weird, how?” His eyebrow quirked up in wonder. “I said I don’t know! This quirk is more complex than we thought, though. I don’t know the specifics.” 

“Well, okay. Be careful during practice,” Todoroki added before turning around, not leaving him enough time to complain about the sentiment. He wondered why he let it go so easily, but followed suit and headed towards the gym, steps heavy on the linoleum floor. 

While trodding towards his destination, the thought of all this strangeness remained in his head. Izuku and he were very much aware that this quirk was different from any ordinary mind-swap, but the effects had seemingly worsened with time. He figured that Izuku was most likely dealing with his own set of difficulties, especially considering Kirishima’s comment earlier. Had he not been so occupied with throwing up his weight in stomach acid, he might have insisted on an explanation. For now, he could only wonder about the other’s predicament — his own wasn’t any less of a mystery, anyway. 

The gym doors were towering over him as he felt droplets of sweat roll down his neck in fearful anticipation. He summoned a small surge of One for All, as if the power had magically left him all of the sudden; a sigh of relief following the realization it was still right there with him. 

The tingle of electricity traveling along his muscles comforted him somehow, giving him the push to step through the doors, but the way along the corridor leading to the changing room felt suffocating. He’d scream inside his mind, telling it to calm down and that this worry is terribly misplaced, but to push through this heavy layer of fog clouding all his common sense was seemingly impossible. His own sanity was being pulled away from the forefront of his brain, and every passing second it was battling for control. 

He absentmindedly entered the locker room, gazing over the crowded space to find a head of blonde hair. Their eyes found each other easily, his own worry reflected on a pair of rubies all too familiar. 

“Tell me I’m not the only one feeling weird,” he whispered, putting his bag next to Izuku on the bench to change into his gym clothes. “No, me too. Let’s talk after all this.” A single nod closed their agreement. They change in silence after that, avoiding eye contact.

The group arrived in the tall gym room — with tall concrete obstacles littering the space — one after another, a flippy Uraraka making her way towards him the minute he entered. Her pink cheeks are puffed into a bright smile as she tugged on the fabric of his t-shirt, commanding his attention. “Can we practice today, Izuku?” His eyes flickered to Izuku — who was watching him also — before he shook his head softly. 

“Me and Kacchan already teamed up. Sorry, Ochako-chan! Let’s team up next time, okay?” he flashed her a bright smile before she turns around with a nod. The response came in a flash; eerily so, even. With every second passing, he felt less and less like himself. Strangely enough, though, he didn’t feel much like Izuku, either. The chilling sensation of being a fraud, an impostor, settled in the forefront of his mind once again; almost mockingly taking a seat in his frontal lobe and enjoying the show. 

And oh, what a show it would be.

“Okay!” Aizawa clapped his hands twice, commanding everybody to gather around him. “As I said, today we’re going to practice quirk combat. So everybody go ahead and grab a partner. Also: I want you to specifically try to incorporate the quirk move sets you’ve been creating, as those need to be second nature in actual combat situations.” 

Another shiver ran down Katsuki’s spine. A task that would usually invoke a sense of thrill into him, he now dreaded. He was familiar with Izuku’s move sets — that wasn’t the problem — just not how to execute them in corporation with One for All. But he didn’t have any time to run away from this. Not like he’d admit defeat in any sort of predicament. 

He could see the same sort of uncertain look in Izuku’s eyes as they were standing opposite of each other, a couple of meters between them. A simultaneous nod was shared between them, signaling the start of their fight. His legs automatically moved forward, as do Izuku’s. The other propelled himself forward, using his explosions, and Katsuki tried to follow suit with his own quirk, albeit much less elegantly. The glow of green electricity engulfing his body was weak in comparison to Izuku’s usual ability. It did leave a sour aftertaste in his mouth, but having to focus on the task at hand left no room to complain. 

Once they were face to face, Izuku’s first attack is easy to anticipate. It’s an explosion aimed at his head, and although he missed, it still disorients him quite a bit. Katsuki is able to control One for All well enough that he could make up for it by repositioning himself, but Izuku is quick and agile — even in his body. He followed instantaneously, the next explosion grazing his face. He tried parring with a kick into the side, which lands but not with much of an impact. Izuku stumbled briefly, but found security in his stance almost immediately. Katsuki was quick on his feet, though, and another kick followed the first one; this time effectively knocking Izuku down. He predicted the explosion aiming to get him on his feet again, using it as an opening to land a punch into his gut. Katsuki aimed, locked in and threw the punch — then, just before connecting with the other’s body, the green glow fades and his attack falls flat, making him deal with the recoil of the force he put into it. 

Katsuki cursed, his expression going dark. His fail made him pay the price of a head-on attack, a full force explosion to his side pushing him into a concrete obstacle. His inferiority plucked at his nerves, shredded his concentration. He was able to channel One for All once again, though, and had no intention of backing down anytime soon. He dashed forward — much faster than before — and aimed to kick at his opponent again. Izuku dodged, but his balance is thrown off by the air pressure surrounding him from the mid-air kick. 

He wouldn’t know what Izuku was thinking. He was perfectly emulating his style and technique he commonly used in the early stages of a fight; but not a single syllable has slipped from his lips thus far. His face was stern, but nothing eluded to any other emotion. The blankness of his face persisted as he catapulted himself towards him once more. Izuku propelled himself across the distance between them in zig-zag motions as Katsuki lead him towards the obstacle crowded area of the gym. He utilized the constructions to dodge any long range explosions thrown at him, then to circle around back to Izuku to land another hit on him. 

Adrenalin clouded his mind as he tries to land a surprise attack on Izuku, powering One for All in his calves to slam his opponent into the next pillar. Instead of landing a clean hit, like he expected, though, a crack and a searing pain courses through his right leg the moment it meets Izuku’s side. The pain distracted him enough to power down One for All; he barely managed to soften the fall to the ground. 

Izuku, whose expression had just been impossible to decipher a second ago, was immediately alert. The expression that now occupied his features was one foreign to Katsuki’s face. He rushed towards him in an instant, explosions tactically maneuvering him through the maze of concrete pillars, coming to his aid. 

“Kacchan! Are you alright?” And then, something just snapped. Maybe it was their unfortunate predicament, his frustration concerning One for All, the fact he’d just broken or fractured his leg, that god-awful look of genuine concern on Izuku’s — his — face, or a mixture of all of the above. No matter the cause, all he could suddenly see was red. 

In a painful attempt to heave himself off the ground, he supported himself on the pillar he landed next to. Izuku was on his way to support his side, but Katsuki pushed him to the ground. 

“See?! I always knew that not a single inch of your body was equipped to be a hero!” 

Silence. 

Somehow, Katsuki was caught off guard by his own words. But before he had any chance to make amends, a flash of light next to his head interrupted his train of thought. He’s caught off balance already, but Izuku simply adds onto the impact with a perfectly executed stun grenade, disorienting Katsuki even more. With the light vanishing and his vision recovering, he realized that Izuku had vanished, too. Mere seconds later, he felt a heavy pressure on his backside as he was being dragged upwards, explosions crackling underneath him. 

Of course, he knew what would follow. The air pressure around him supplied him with just a few seconds of relief until he is forcefully thrown across Izuku’s shoulder, explosions adding to the force of it. Another crack sounded from his leg as he is thrown into another stone pillar, painfully so. 

He saw Izuku lowering himself to the ground. “How the fuck do you even know how to do that!? This is my newest move! Are you that much of a fucking copy cat? No wonder no one has noticed we switched bodies. Your move set is the fucking same,” he growled, anger engulfing his whole body. 

“Well, maybe, if you had spent a millisecond looking at me the way I look at you, you wouldn’t be fucking losing.” Incidentally, this is the most accurately sounding impression Izuku has done thus far. Incidentally, it was scaring Katsuki to no end. 

“See how fucking easy this is? See how well I can do this? How I can do this just as well as you?” An ugly laugh sounded from Izuku’s throat. “Don’t you realize? The only reason you’re cut out to be a hero is because you were born lucky. The only thing that equips you to be a hero is your goddamn quirk and your insufferable superiority complex. But the one thing you lack is the fucking heart for it, Katsuki.” 

Izuku didn’t bother to give Katsuki time to process any of that. He rose up into the air again, and, as the grand finale, he engulfs the whole room into a box of light, a Howitzer Impact. It wasn’t aimed at Katsuki directly; he knew this was just a way to prove a point. 

And prove a point, it did. 

Chapter Text

The next time he came to, it was in a hospital bed. He remembered scorching heat and pressure on his body and ears — then just darkness. The remnants of all he said, all he did and all he felt came back to him in pieces, and with them the unshakable sense of horror. He twisted his head to his right, a sleeping mirror of his actual self resting in the bed next to him. A tear ran down his face as he thinks back to all the things he said to him. 

Izuku desperately tried tracking down the source of his anger, tried finding any sort of explanation — but came up empty handed. 

Well, maybe, if you had spent a millisecond looking at me the way I look at you, you wouldn’t be fucking losing.

It was true. He yearned for nothing more than for Kacchan to look at him, to see him, in the way that Izuku has his whole life. The one person he’s always wanted to impress was Katsuki, for him to look at Izuku with the same sparkle in his eyes and think: Amazing. Izuku is amazing. It was a fickle, unrealistic dream — but a dream nonetheless. However, what he didn’t know was where all that malice came from. He remembered the burning pit in his stomach, pushing and pushing every last venomous word past his lips. Then, there was emptiness. A deeply rooted emptiness, one that Izuku’s brain just couldn’t comprehend. 

See how fucking easy this is? See how well I can do this? How I can do this just as well as you? Don’t you realize? The only reason you’re cut out to be a hero is because you were born lucky. The only thing that equips you to be a hero is your goddamn quirk and your insufferable superiority complex. But the one thing you lack is the fucking heart for it, Katsuki. 

His words echoed verbatim in his mind, over and over again, until his strength gave out underneath him. He fell and fell, and then he ended up right here. On a hospital bed with his ears still ringing faintly, and his conscious weighing heavy on him. Heavy with his own words, and Kacchan’s as well. 

I always knew that not a single inch of your body was equipped to be a hero!

No wonder no one has noticed we switched bodies. Your move set is the fucking same.

A copy-cat, the term ‘hero’ barely applicable. It stung, hearing those words from Kacchan — even though he’d told himself the exact same thing a million times before. 

…

Even though he’d told himself the exact same thing. 

In a flash, the pain was forgotten. He stretched his legs out of the bed, exposing bruised calves underneath his hospital gown. He ran over to Kacchan, shaking him awake. Kacchan’s — or rather, his — leg is wrapped up in a thick cast up to his knee. Izuku wasn’t exactly worried, he figured he didn’t entirely break his leg and simply fractured it. He felt that kick, and it was hard but not even close to 100% strength. Nonetheless, in order not to cause Kacchan any more pain, he shook him a little more careful than he otherwise would have. 

The other woke up in a daze, horror filling his eyes once his eyes met Izuku’s. He was unsure if he looked away because he felt guilty, or if he was hurt. Maybe both. 

“Kacchan! I know what’s been happening!” Kacchan side eyed him. “What are you-“ 

The door slammed open. Aizawa and Recovery Girl looked displeased, especially after seeing Izuku on his feet. Shortly after, a boy entered after them, one that Izuku unmistakably recognized as the one they saved just a few days prior. The one that gotten them into this mess in the first place. He looked nervous, uncertainty written all over his face. 

“Midoriya. Bakugou. This is Hoko, the kid that used his quirk on you both. It took a while to get into contact with him, but he’s here to fix this.” Aizawa’s face was stern; Izuku figured he wasn’t too happy about the stunt he pulled. 

Recovery Girl handed Kacchan two crutches to support himself, who wordlessly took them and followed them out of the room. They seated themselves across from the boy, Hoko, whose nervousness hadn’t let down in the slightest. 

The boy clapped his hands together and bowed his head, “I’m so sorry!” His voice was shaky but sincere. “I didn’t realize I had used my quirk. I’m still practicing every day, but when I’m overwhelmed I can’t control it. I hope you can forgive me.” 

Izuku’s face softened. “Don’t worry. I never thought you had ill intentions,” he reassured him. “But do you mind explaining what your quirk does, exactly?” 

Kacchan scoffed next to him. “This ain’t the time to fanboy over some quirk, dipshit.” 

“I know. That’s not why I asked. This is important, I think.” Kacchan let it go, and motioned Hoko to talk with a wave of his hand. 

“Um, I’m sure as you’ve noticed, my quirk swaps the mind of two people. My dad had the same quirk, but since my mother has an empathy quirk the consciousnesses of the people who swap minds aren’t completely translated to the other’s body. That means that remnants of the other’s consciousness will coexist with your own. Now, I was really nervous and scared when I accidentally used my quirk, which probably amplified any insecurities you two have, meaning that I can’t imagine this whole ordeal could have been nice. And you’ve been in each other’s for so long! It’s not meant to be a lasting effect, as it can feel really invasive and uncomfortable. I’m surprised you’re both still sane! You must have incredible resolve.” 

Hoko wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as before, and Izuku was truly marveling over his quirk. He had already figured that this must be how the quirk influenced it’s targets. Deep inside he knew that neither he nor Kacchan would spit such cruelties at each other — at least not anymore. Not after coming this far. 

“But can you switch us back?” Kacchan looked less disgruntled, but he was far from comfortable with the situation. Granted, so was Izuku. 

“Yes, of course! But there’s one more thing you should know: You’ve been stuck in each others bodies for far longer than my quirk intends. That means there could be lasting influences on both of you. View it as certain splinters of the other’s conscious stuck in your own. Maybe you’ve noticed that at one point, you might’ve felt a weird sensation, as if your brains were fighting or melting together. You might have to expect certain parts of the other influencing your own mind. But it shouldn’t be too major! You’ll still be the same old you.” 

Kacchan didn’t react well to that. It stung a little, to see him so distraught by the thought of having bits of Izuku left inside his head. 

“So I’ve…” Kacchan’s voice came out shaky. “Tainted him? A part of me will be stuck inside him forever?” 

“I.. I wouldn’t say ‘tainted’… but-“ Hook tried, caught of guard by the notion. But Izuku interrupted him. 

“Don’t say that. Every inch of you is something to be admired. It is so clear to me — now more than ever — that even your worst parts are part of why i think you're so great. You pick a fight with all of your demons and you come out on top every single time. all of your struggles lead toward the path of perfection, and I know its a hard one. Simply living with it for a few days has brought me down; I couldn't imagine what it must be like to deal with it every day. I should count myself lucky that some of your resilience and drive is now part of my conscience. Maybe you can feel the same way about my admiration for you that has now found its place in your own head. Maybe it can help you fight all those thoughts illusioning you to think of yourself like that, Kacchan.” 

Kacchan turned his head toward Izuku, eyes wide. In that moment, he imagined that the two of them were alone in the room. He kept talking. 

“I hope you know that I meant none of the things I said back there. And I hope- No, I know that you can overcome those thoughts so you never have to think of yourself like that again.” 

Kacchan shied away, his eyes meeting the ground. A meagre nod is all he could offer in that moment. Izuku met Hoko’s eyes again and told him he could switch them back again. His eyes lit up the same way they did back when they first met, a green and red perfectly resembling their respective eye colors. This time — probably due to the more controlled environment — neither of them passed out. Izuku did feel quite dizzy and his vision took a while to adjust, but he felt more than happy to be back in his own skin. He felt comfort in the freckles littering his arms, and, surprisingly, in his scars as well. They were so unmistakably him. Izuku had never liked being himself so much. 

For Kacchan, too, it was a relief. Izuku could tell by the way his shoulders eased up. “Thank you,” Katsuki said, nodding towards Hoko, who returned a small smile. “I should thank you two once again. You really saved my life the other day.”

“It’s what we’re here for!” Izuku smiled, genuinely. 

Recovery Girl lead the boy towards the exit, leaving only Izuku, Kacchan and Aizawa in the room. He towered over them, but his gaze targeted Izuku especially. 

“You. You can count yourself lucky that these were peculiar circumstances. Next time you two have doubts about anything, you tell me. I only agreed to this under the condition of you both not stirring up anymore trouble. I’ll let this one slide, but don’t think I’ll spare you again.” And with that, he left the room. Leaving Kacchan and him in silence. 

Neither of them spoke, the events of the last few days hanging in the air. 

“I’m sorry.” 

It’s Katsuki who spoke first. 

“I’m sorry, too.” 

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. All those things you said? They came from me. I hear that same shit in my head on repeat. But what I said to you? It might be because you believe it, but I was the one who taught it to you.” 

“Kacchan-“ but he interrupted him again. 

“No, let me speak. I need to say this. That I was wrong. I mean, I’ve known how wrong I was for a while, but having lived in your body really manifested shit for me. How fucking hard you got it. I’m so glad that I don’t have to be in pain anymore. Every second in your body just hurts. You’re a fuckhead if you think your body isn’t equipped to be a hero. If anything, there’s no one else who’s better suited than you. You deserve to be here more than anyone else. And certainly more than me.” 

“No! I told you that’s bullshit!” 

Kacchan seemed surprised at his tone. He turned to look at him, flecks of vibrant red reflected in the swelling tears in his eyes. “Kacchan, you’re a true hero. And maybe you weren’t always perfect, but constantly proving yourself is what it means to be a hero. The reason I could use your quirk so well? It was muscle memory! Nothing you’ve accomplished was easy to do. I’m amazed at what you can do! It felt incredible to simply have a taste of what it feels like to be as capable as you. Even if the whole world’s against you, you stand strong. And as long as I’m here, there’s always someone on your side.” Izuku smiled at him, and so did Kacchan. 

“Let’s go home.” 

They part ways in the dorm, the silence that followed them there comfortable and welcomed. It was relieving to be in his own body again, but the events of the last few days wore him out significantly. His bed, albeit much less comfortable than Kacchan’s, gave him a sense of comfort and safety, and he was so glad to sink into his shitty mattress again. He missed his room, his space, and his merch — he welcomed the familiarity of it all. 

Before he knew it, he had fallen into a light and dreamless slumber, only to be awoken by a harsh knock on his bedroom door. When he woke up, he rubbed his eyes to get a good look at the clock, sighing in relief that he hadn’t slept for too long. He trodded to the door with groggy steps, two more knocks sounding from the other side as he made his way towards it. 

Kacchan was the one waiting on the other side, standing there sort of fidgety and very much unlike the blonde. The moment he saw Izuku, a look of determination — and maybe… anger? —  washed over him. 

“Kacchan..? Did you forget anything in my room?”

“I’m gonna tell you what I really think about you,” he said with a huff, his eyebrows furrowed and his nose scrunched. A light shade of red was dusted over his nose and cheeks.

“Huh? But we sorted that out already, Kacchan. I’m not-“ 

“I think you’re real freaky, Izuku,” he started anyway, not paying attention to Izuku’s objections. “Um… what does-“ 

“Real freaky how your eyes always look like that, you know.” I do? “All green and sparkly. I took a real good look at them when I was you. They’re like this forest and your freckles are these tiny people who want to go there. Argh… I mean. Hmph.” 

Izuku was confused. So was Kacchan, apparently. The shade of red in his face grew darker and darker, until he managed to speak again. 

“What I mean to say! Your eyes aren’t half-bad. Or your freckles. Or that thing you call hair. Maybe I like the whole thing. Yeah. I like- I like the whole thing.”

“The whole… me?” 

“Yeah. That.” 

They stood there in silence for a minute. Izuku was sure his cheeks were red and warm as well, but he couldn’t really feel anything. “You think you’re gonna barf?” Kacchan asked. There was genuine concern in his eyes, somehow. 

“What? No. No, definitely not! Um. Maybe, like- come in?” So he did, and they sat down on his bed, the awkward silence still persisting. “So, you like me? As in… as, like, a bro?” 

“Never say bro again.” 

“You’re right.” 

“But no. I like you as in… I would sleep in this god-awful bed again. At least, if you were in it too.” 

Izuku could feel the heat now, and it was pestering him now. “Maybe I am gonna barf. But like! In a good way.” 

“You already did. Sort of.” Izuku shot him a strange look; he was still all red and puffy. “When I was still you, I teased Kirishima about never being able to say that I like you. So he did and I barfed all over the fucking floor. Had to physically restrain myself from doin’ it twice. Thought your subconscious must hate me.”

So he’s liked me… for a while? Izuku’s head was spinning. 

“No, no! I just have a weak stomach… you know? It’s good that my subconscious already experienced this or else we’d be… we’d be cleaning barf off the floor, ’n all…” 

Another moment of silence passed. 

“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Maybe I’ll just-“ Kacchan started, red-faced and with his feet already trodding to the door. Izuku scrambled and ultimately grabbed onto the other’s shirt, finally shaking this trance off of him. 

Hearing Kacchan say that he liked him sent him spiraling; a part of him wanted to start laughing, thinking this was a cruel, cruel joke being played on him. He knew that he wanted to be close to Kacchan, closer to him than to anyone else, and it was his greatest desire to be closer to Kacchan than any other person on this earth. He’d just never allowed himself to play into this fantasy of being physically close to him as well, of feeling his embrace,  of pulling him in, of tasting his tongue. He steered clear of those invasive thoughts, as though merely thinking about it would exploit Kacchan in a way Izuku would never attempt to. But picturing Kacchan sleeping at night, dreaming of doing everything he wished to Izuku, strapped his heart into a rollercoaster and sent him flying. He patted his cheeks, hoping to make the red vanish along with the impossible heat settling on his face, but to no avail. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to say. But… but I think I like you too!” he begged, eyes pleading for Kacchan not to leave. 

“You… think?” 

“I don’t know. I’ve always dreamed of being impossibly close to you, but I never dared to let myself imagine anything more than being your best friend. It seemed — still does — inconceivable to me that any part of you could want all of me.” There were tears in his eyes now. Kacchan sat down once again, and he tried to soothe him by rubbing his back hesitantly. 

“I’ve liked you for about six months now.” Izuku’s eyes widened. “No, screw that. I’ve known that I liked you for six months now. In retrospect, it probably started somewhere around middle school.” Izuku didn’t even know eyes could widen this much without his eyeballs suffering irreparable damage. 

“I don’t know how being in my body for a couple of days could possible sway me to say something like this, but here goes nothing: You’re my definition of greatness. Everything you do just pulls me in; even when I wanted to beat your shit you were still all over my mind, with your big freaky eyes and your big freaky heart. Hell, I would never be the person I am now if it weren’t for you, Izuku. I wish you hadn’t had to suffer that much for me to get here, but now I am and now I want to do better. I want to try to be at least a fraction of the beacon that you were for me, always.” 

Izuku’s tears betrayed him as he sucker punched Kacchan in the face. His nose bled, and he’s never seen Kacchan so utterly baffled. 

“What the fuck?!” 

“Don’t you dare say that again!” There was snot pooling above Izuku’s lip. “This goes both ways, mister! Talk about ‘I want to be at least a fraction of the beacon that you were for me’ as if that’s not all I could see you as since we were four!” Katsuki is still bewildered that Izuku punched him in the face, but he listened anyway. 

“You know what, Kacchan? I don’t like you,” he huffed, watching Kacchan’s face fall apart for a moment, before he continued.

“I love you, understand?” he — quite literally — yelled at him, squishing Kacchan’s face with his two hands and kissing him fiercely. It’s most definitely the most vile, disgusting kiss they would ever share, as snot and blood mix together just underneath their noses, but neither of them noticed. Izuku felt more breathless than ever before once they parted, but seeing Kacchan’s eyes sparkle like clusters of stars rejuvenated him easily. After wiping their faces, Kacchan leaned in for another kiss, and it felt like the world had finally slotted into the right axis again after being tilted for centuries. 

And time and time again, every time they parted, Izuku leaned right back in to catch another taste of Kacchan’s tongue; a taste so sweet he didn’t know how he had ever lived without it. 

“I’m a bad person, Izuku. I don’t know what I did to deserve any of this — how I deserve you.” 

“If you’re a bad person, then everyone else must somehow be infinitely worse. Out of all the people I’ve met, no one holds a candle to your greatness. You’re the best person I know.” 

“Well, now that there’s a part of you inside me — however small it may be — you could probably be right.”