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       Izuku had never really noticed when he started picking at his fingers. He supposed that it was just a nervous habit of his. But the picking got worse the longer it went on. When he was little, he usually would just chew on a hangnail in a moment of stress, or bite at his nail. Now, its more often the case of him coming into class with bandages over his fingers to hide the scabs. Normally, the sight of bandages so often would be concerning. Luckily, Izuku had the reputation of being a “problem child”, in the words of Mr. Aizawa. Turns out repeatedly breaking your body due to a quirk that you couldn’t control had its upsides. Even the worst situations sometimes had a silver lining. And if he noticed the lingering glances of his teacher or classmates, he didn’t let on to the fact. Izuku had more or less gotten used to the constant feeling of being destroyed. It was his own fault, really. If it wasn’t his quirk rearing its ugly side, then it was the less savory parts of his amalgamation of mental issues showing their true colors. He supposed that picking was one of the less destructive things that he did regularly. Sure, it tore up his fingers and left him wincing every time he touched something, but it was nothing in comparison to some of his other habits.

There was the constant breaking of bones that drove Mr. Aizawa and Recovery Girl absolutely insane, although he’d been able to go without breaking a bone since after the rubble around him fell to the ground as he dropped to his knees to try to withstand the force of Eri’s unstable quirk. That had hurt like a bitch, and after the doctor’s words following the training camp, Izuku was more than happy to push away that not-so-good habit of his. His other habits were harder to shake.

Izuku’s thighs were a mottled mess of scars, both villain- and self-induced. Izuku wasn’t very fond of pain. Lord knows that he was no stranger to it. But he did it anyways. It was a self-flagellation, a penance for sins that only he could see, and only he could punish. For not being strong enough, big enough, small enough, brave enough, enough. For being quirkless, for not controlling One For All fast enough, for not being a hero. He used the self-inflicted pain as a way to punish himself for every perceived misdeed. Izuku was definitely no stranger to pain - at this point, he almost saw it like an annoying friend, one that wouldn’t leave you alone no matter what you did. Like how Kacchan saw him, probably. His bones ached constantly, a low-level thrumming that spiked in fervor at the changing of the seasons. Sometimes, when things were too loud or not routine, or even if he just slept wrong the night before, his skin would flagellate itself with every touch, every breeze. Those days, it was all Izuku could do to get through the day, barely paying attention to his lectures or friends for want of scratching his fucking skin off. The smallest noises would set him on edge, and the thought of putting anything in his mouth would find him running to the closest bathroom to dry heave into the toilet.

        Sometimes, Izuku saw food as an enemy. A lot of the time. Most of the time, actually. Izuku could only eat certain foods, and of those, he would only let himself indulge up to a certain extent. It started as a desperate bid to be able to function throughout the day. After countless - Izuku wouldn’t dare call them meltdowns, at the risk of admitting something wasn’t right with him - he and his mother finally sat down and, with as many tears as you’d expect from a Midoriya, went through which foods made him want to rip his esophagus out and use it as a noose just to get away from the bad feeling of eating it and which foods were safe. Lots of foods were out - anything with cheese or dairy, tofu (unless it was cooked EXACTLY right), bananas, pretty much anything that had even a slightly mushy or rubbery texture. Still, even with those restrictions, Izuku still had options. And then, middle school hit.

        Izuku tried, he really did, but the constant presence of mocking, pitying, disgusted stares got to him. He stopped bringing lunches to school and would instead spend his ‘lunch period’ on the roof of Aldera writing in his quirk analysis notebooks or reading novels. Izuku was able to finish a lot of analyses and a lot of thick literature this way. No one noticed his lack of a lunch, or his disappearance from the cafeteria. It rankled a bit, even though Izuku came to expect it. Then, he started skipping breakfast as well. His mother had to leave for work early in the mornings to make it to her shift at the hospital, and he used that to his advantage. The only time of day that Izuku managed to eat - or was sometimes forced to - was at night, under the watchful eye of his mother.Kami knows he loves his mother, but Inko’s medical knowledge gave her an eagle eye over any unusual food habits that Izuku could or would develop. So Izuku ate his dinner with his mother, forcing each bite down during his worse days if he had to.

        Izuku never meant to let this nasty habit of his get out of hand, but during school they were given physicals by the nurse’s office. When it came time to take his weight, Izuku saw the number flashing in front of his eyes. He felt shame at its reading, and he couldn’t place where that churning in his gut came from. His list of safe-to-eat foods quickly shrank. The shame that plagued him guided him to healthier fare, to less calorific fare, to a fear of fats and terror of his mother’s loving cooking, heaped with salt and fat and badness. So he got better at avoiding Inko’s watchful dinner habits. He began ‘cooking’ for himself a lot more (cooking dinner for his mother and sometimes giving himself a meager portion) and started running.

        Running was, oddly enough, not one of Izuku’s bad habits. It started as a way to avoid his mother’s watchful eye, but quickly evolved into a stress relief for him. He couldn’t escape the glares of his school, he couldn’t escape the stamp of quirklessness, of uselessness, that plagued his every step. But he could escape the never ending pavement sloughing is way under his feet. When he was running, everything sort of fell away. It didn’t solve any of his problems, but it gave him something to focus on. On the good days, he sprinted and felt his worries melt away. When the bad days creeped in, he would take to the streets, wincing at the feeling of everything around him, and coming home hours later, his skin no longer feeling like it was on fire - just tingling.

        Some days were much better than others. On those days, Izuku could laugh and joke with his friends, repressing the urge to gnaw at the scratchy fabric of his school uniform. Following that line of reasoning, some days were much worse than others, too. Those days, Izuku could barely get out of bed. The skin of his flayed fingers would catch on all of the fibers, even his loosest clothes would choke him, and he would work himself up into such a state of wrongness that he was left voiceless and near bawling as soon as he tried to leave the relative safety of his bed, much less his room.

        Becoming All Might’s successor was one of the greatest and most terrible things that he had done. The physical training gave him more outlets, and a sense of purpose. But the meal plan. The godforsaken meal plan. It was filled with foods that Izuku just couldn’t eat, whether for his own sanity or for the gnawing guilt that he felt. For a moment, he considered saying “to hell with it” and telling All Might to go find someone else, but he quickly disregarded that. Becoming a hero was worth a little paingnawinghurthurthurtmakeitstop discomfort. Luckily, almost ironically, Inko helped solve that problem. He came to her, on the verge of tears, talking about his training and the meal plan. Inko, taking everything - even her precious son trusting an absolute stranger mom its ALL MIGHT to train him and dictate his meals - in stride came up with alternatives to the foods that Izuku wouldn’t possibly be able to force past his lips. It helped. Izuku was able to carry on with his secret training, and he wouldn’t have to feel like clawing his throat open every time he ate. But the guilt still gnawed at him. He supposed that’s why his less than stellar idea of extra training came to mind. It appeased the guilt, at the expense of making him weaker, not stronger. All Might, however, was none the wiser, believing that the training was solely for the purpose of accepting One For All. Izuku’s secret reason would stay that - a secret. Kaminari knows that he would never want All Might to figure out how weak he actually was. Against all odds, Izuku made it. He accepted One For All - and the hair part freaked him out a lot, but it would do that to most everyone, so Izuku couldn’t feel all too bad - and enrolled at UA High after the trainwreck of an entrance exam. Life got a little better for Izuku. He had friends now, and Kacchan was civil - even friendly - to him after their fight at Ground Beta. The guilt that had plagued him since middle school loosened its vice around his stomach and ribs a little. But it didn’t go away altogether. Izuku, however, was a pro at deflecting suspicion away from him and his bad habits.

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        Kirishima didn’t consider himself the most observant of people, but he found himself worrying for Midoriya. Sure they weren’t the best of friends by any means, but he still cared about his diminutive classmate. And diminutive was exactly the word to describe Izuku. Ejiro, upon meeting Midoriya for the first time, found himself in the joyful position of being able to use Midoriya as an armrest. The boy was tiny, coming in only slightly taller than Ochako. And Ejiro noticed today, when he laid his arm on Midoriya’s head, that the smaller boy shook after a minute of the slight pressure that he put on his arm. Kirishima lifted almost all of his body weight off of Midoriya, and felt the minute tremors under his arm die down a little. To Kirishima’s surprise, Izuku slouched in relief at the release of pressure, and glanced back to smile at Kirishima. 

        “Am I really that short?” Midoriya joked, and to Kirishima’s horror, he noticed that Midoriya was ever so slightly out of breath, as if the redhead’s arm was a great weight taken quite literally off of his shoulders. Fighting off a grimace, he smiled and ruffled Midoriya’s hair.

        “I mean, Midobro, I call ‘em like I see ‘em. And what I see is a tiny friend at perfect armrest height.” Midoriya snorted at Kirishima’s reply and good-naturedly rolled his eyes. 

        “Well, this armrest needs to get going, and so do you, otherwise we’ll be late for Present Mic’s class.” With that, Midoriya waved goodbye to Kirishima and glided out of the room. Kirishima, not wanting to be left behind, raised his arm and shouted “Hey wait up, Midobro!” as he bolted out of the classroom after the smaller boy. Midoriya looked back at him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. Kirishima stuttered slightly, then rubbed the back of his head as he spoke.

        “I figured I would walk with you, dude. I mean, I have to protect my armrest from all of the other tall bros that might want to use you to rest their arms. It wouldn’t be manly of me to let you walk alone.”

        Midoriya shook his head and gestured with his hand for Kirishima to follow him to the next class. The redhead fell into step beside his green-haired classmate and the two began to walk to the next classroom. Midoriya reached into his bag and pulled out a travel mug of what Ejiro presumed was coffee. It was a well known fact that Izuku was a major caffeine addict. While Midoriya pulled his mug out, Kirishima took a moment to get a good look at Midoriya, and was shocked by what he saw. Midoriya, one of the powerhouses of Class 1-A looked...almost frail. He was roped with thin, wiry muscles, but his uniform - which fit perfectly at the beginning of the year - now looked slightly too big on him. His bright green eyes were ringed with dark bags, and Kirishima noticed that Midoriya’s hand shook slightly around the coffee that he was holding. His once round cheeks - a feature that endeared him to his classmates and to most of the students and faculty at the school - seemed sharper and almost hollowed. With a start, Kirishima noticed that the trembling in Midoriya’s hand was accompanied by a slight full body shiver.

        “Hey, Midobro,” green eyes found his own, “Are you cold? You’re shivering a bit.” Midoriya started, looking almost panicked, then let out a slightly nervous laugh.

        “I suppose I am, Kirishima,” he said, not quite looking the taller boy in the eyes, “I guess the school’s air conditioning is a bit stronger than I thought it would be today.” He laughed again, and rubbed his knuckles with his thumb. Not wanting to push Midoriya farther than he wanted to be pushed, Kirishima relented. He slung his arm around Midoriya’s shoulder, mindful not to put pressure on the shorter boy.

        “Can’t have my personal armrest freezing to death, now can I?” He joked. He made a mental note to slyly mention this to Bakugo. 

        Bakugo and Midoriya’s relationship at UA started out rocky, to say the least. Bakugo was constantly at Midoriya’s throat, and Midoriya was always trying to reason with the angry blonde. After their post-curfew fight at Ground Beta, however, they seemed to be getting along. Bakugo’s insults lacked their usual heat, and he would oftentimes insult his former friend in the way that Kirishima knew meant that Bakugo cared. Luckily, Midoriya seemed to be fluent in emotionally constipated heroes-in-training. 

        Kirishima knew that Bakugo cared deeply for his friend (or quite possibly more?) and his way of showing it, while leaving much to be desired, was received by the green haired boy as Bakugo subconsciously meant it to be. If Kirishima told Bakugo, then the blonde would no doubt have a better time trying to get Midoriya well from whatever was on his mind. Just as Midoriya could quell Bakugo, the blonde seemed to have an uncanny ability to a. call Midoriya on his self-sacrificial bullshit, and b. somehow convince him to take care of himself to an extent. Kirishima decided that Bakugo would be the best option to get Midoriya back to his smiling self. If nothing else, the blonde’s naturally high temperature would give Midoriya some respite from the chill plaguing him. His mind made up, Kirishima followed Mirodiya’s slight frame into the classroom and sat at his seat. 

        The red head leaned over towards Bakugo and waved in front of his face to get his attention. Bakugo usually turned off his hearing aids between classes, and Kirishima needed his attention. Bakugo glared at him, slightly annoyed at the prospect of turning his aids back on before the last possible second. Flipping the switch, he grunted.

        “What do you want, Shitty Hair?”

        Kirishima hesitated and glanced back at Midoriya. The green haired boy seemed lost, staring blankly off into space as his eyes blinked slowly. He looks like a cat , Kirishima thought, then leaned closer to Bakugo so that he could sign without Midoriya seeing. 

        I’m worried about Midoriya. Bakugo, instead of scoffing, frowned and looked Kirishima in the eyes. 

        You noticed how he looked too? He signed. Kirishima nodded, and then pointed to his phone, indicating that he would text Bakugo. Bakugo rolled his eyes in exasperation and muttered, “Why the hell didn’t you think of that before?” Kirishima winced and smiled wanly at his friend.

         “Oops?” Bakugo rolled his eyes, and Present Mic strode into class. Throwing a quick glance over his shoulder, Kirishima noticed that Midoriya flinched at the sudden noise and looked more awake, if terribly startled. Present Mic began his lesson, signing along to his words. Kirishima heard the minute but telltale flick of his friend’s hearing aids as he focused on the lecture. Present Mic always tried to make his class as accessible as possible, and the fact that Mic himself was partially deaf meant that he had a slight soft spot for Bakugo. Shared annoyances, or something like that. In any case, Kirishima thought that it was incredibly manly of him to help out his students. He forced his worry about Midoriya to the back of his mind as he tried to focus on the lesson in front of them. 

        After what seemed like three eternities, Present Mic dismissed the class. Groans and mumbles of excitement filtered throughout the room as the class began shoving papers in bags and leaning conspiratorially to their friends. Kirishima stretched his arms behind his head and his legs in front of him, groaning in contentment. After releasing his stretch, he slumped in his seat and looked at Bakugo. Bakugo glared back at him, finishing putting his papers into his bag. 

        “You gonna sit there all day or are you coming with, Shitty Hair?” Bakugo barked out and stood up from his desk. Eijiro rolled his eyes good-naturedly and popped up from his desk. Leaning over towards his friend, He landed his elbow on Bakugo’s shoulder and grinned at him. Bakugo scowled deeper - somehow - and shoved his hand off. Faking a distressed cry, Kirishima sidled over to Midoriya and, subconsciously checking that the shorter boy had both a clear visual of him coming over and a solid footing after he stood up, leaned his arm on Midoriya’s green curls and sighed again, upping the drama.

        “Midooooooooo,” he whined, “Bakubro’s being meeeeaaan.” He frowned and faked crying for effect. Eijiro felt shaking under his arm and, worried that he had put too much pressure on Midoriya again, opened his eyes. Midoriya stood giggling silently at his antics, a hand near his mouth to try to hide his laughter from Bakugo. Inwardly relieved, Kirishima doubled down on his dramatics. 

        “Midooooooo. How can you laugh at a time like this? Bakugo totally just brushed me off! I’m wounded! I can never recover from this slight!” With that, Eijiro slid down so that he was laying across Midoriya’s desk, in a mockery of a Victorian woman on a fainting couch. Midoriya smiled down at him and ruffled his spikes. Eijiro looked up at Midoriya’s face, slightly shocked at the touch from the green haired boy.

        “I guess I’ll have to be the one to defend your honor, then,” Midoriya said, good naturedly. 

        Kirishima barked a laugh and flipped over, propping his head on his fists and flicking up one of his feet. “My hero! My knight in shining armor!” Kirishima crowed as Midoriya began laughing in earnest, his shoulders shaking with the movement. Kirishima glanced over his shoulder and saw Bakugo watching the two, a contemplative and - dare Eijiro say it - soft expression on his face. Seeing Kirishima looking at him, Bakugo shook his head slightly and frowned, trying desperately to look like he hadn’t been caught up in listening to Midoriya laugh. 

        “Hey, Deku,” Bakugo called, “You done indulging Hair for Brains? We’re gonna be late for lunch, and I don’t want to have to fight all of those extras to do something as basic as eating.” Midoriya jumped at the sudden attention on him and blinked, before flapping his arms around and saying that “of course I wouldn’t want to take up more of your time Kacchan. I hope you enjoy your lunch!” Bakugo scoffed and stalked over to the two. Kirishima, worried by the angry look on Bakugo’s face, slid the rest of the way across the desk and landed on his feet in front of Midoriya.

        “Whoa there, Blasty!” He chuckled, subtly trying to get in between the two childhood friends. Bakugo, seeing Kirishima’s subtle movement, scoffed and reached around Kirishima’s shoulder to pull Midoriya towards him.

        “Kami, Shitty Hair, I’m not gonna hurt him. It’s not training right now.” He hooked his arm around Midoriya’s shoulders. “And besides, someone’s gotta make sure this dumbass here makes it to the cafeteria without being attacked by some villain.” 

        Midoriya immediately began to protest, switching between him being able to protect himself, UA having decent enough security that a villain wouldn’t attack, trying to persuade the two that he’s not that much of a trouble magnet, and not wanting to waste the other two’s time. Bakugo just smirked and squeezed Midoriya’s shoulders tighter. He laughed as Midoriya’s rant continued on, his face reddening under the extended attention of his two taller classmates. “This really isn’t necessary guys,” Midoriya stuttered, “I’ll be perfectly fine on my own I don’t want to intrude on your time-”

        Kirishima interjected. “Midobro, chill.” Midoriya’s mouth clamped firmly shut, eyes wide and hesitant. “We’re going the same way anyways, so it’s not a big deal.” Midoriya looked down, nodding meekly. Kirishima grinned at him and slapped a hand on his back, steadfastly ignoring the green haired boy’s squeak at the unexpected contact. Removing his hand, Kirishima looped his arm around Midoriya’ shoulders on top of Bakugo’s arm and reached down to collect Midoriya’s bright yellow bag. Bakugo, in an unexpected moment of tenderness, laid his cheek on top of the fluffy green curls. Kirishima’s eyes widened. Bakugo, noticing the other boy’s eyes on him, blushed and shifted so that his chin was sitting on Midoriya’s head. He stuck out his tongue at the other boy, Eijiro following suit. Midoriya, seemingly forgotten in the silent confrontation between the two boys, spoke up.

        “Uh, Kirishima? I know that you said I was a good armrest and all, but your arm is kinda heavy.” Both boys stopped. Midoriya, seeming to realize what he had said, flushed crimson and began stammering an apology. “Oh Kami, I’m so sorry Kirishima I didn’t mean it in a bad way I mean I know that you’re pretty much all muscle and you have to be pretty strong for your quirk to work and all and I’m so sorry-” Kirishima cut him off.

        “Mido, it’s fine. No sweat. My arms are just super heavy from carrying the weight of my manliness.” Still flushed, Midoriya gave a quiet laugh at his joke. Bakugo and Kirishima shared a concerned look over Midoriya’s head. 

        Despite Midoriya’s smaller stature, he was actually one of the strongest people in their class, both physically and emotionally. After their class internships happened and Midoriya seemingly finally realized how to control his - while incredibly manly - seriously destructive quirk, Midoriya’s physical strength soared without the use of his quirk. In a lifting competition that they had, Midoriya had come in third, beat out only by Shoji and Sato. And that was without his quirk activated. Hell, one night at the gym, his classmates half delirious from the lack of sleep due to finals and work-studies, Midoriya had bench-pressed Kirishima and Kaminari to the fascination of them all. So to hear that Kirishima and Bakugo’s combined weight on his shoulders was heavy was scary. Even if Midoriya had meant it as a joke, a look at Bakugo had confirmed that Kirishima wasn’t imagining the slight tremors coming from the shorter boy. 

        Bakugo smiled, although to Kirishima it looked more like a grimace, and ruffled Midoriya’s hair. “Cmon, nerd.” He said softly, “Let’s go.” Midoriya smiled up at Bakugo and nodded. The two taller boys shifted their grips, but never let go of Midoriya’s shoulders. The trio walked down the hall and to the stairwell, Bakugo and Kirishima keeping up a small conversation. Midoriya interjected occasionally, seeming content to mostly listen. If Kirishima noticed Bakugo’s thumb tracing small and comforting circles on Midoriya’s shoulder, he didn’t say anything, instead smiling to himself at the small gesture of affection from the normally explosive boy.

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        Bakugo knew that he was a generally abrasive person. And he knew that he wasn’t the best at emotions. He yelled and raged and gnashed his teeth rather than face any turmoil roiling in his gut. It’s how he has always been, and he knew that it would always be that way. He had made his peace with that part of himself long ago. When he was little, long before quirks and masculinity and being the best had clouded his eyes and his heart, Izuku had been the only person that had seen the softer side of him. The gentle boy had been the only one he could turn to when the world got to be too bright and too loud. When his mother’s harsh but loving growls grated just the wrong way on his nerves, he could turn to Izuku and let the churning of his heart be laid bare to the smaller boy. His Izuku. His sunshine, his own personal little bright corner of the universe.

        Then the beginning of the end began. His quirk came in and he became entrenched in the ideals of those around him. Teachers praised him for his fiery temper, never chastizing such a “great little future hero”, saying that “boys will be boys” and turning a blind eye when he got swept up in the machinations of his so-called friends. Those damned extras, taunting him about his friendship with quirkless, weak, fragile little Izuku. The boys, with tongues as sharp as glass, had driven a wedge between the two, and Katsuki, not knowing any better, had followed along. In his own twisted way, he had rationalized it as protecting his precious little friend. He told himself - to justify his actions and those of his friends - that he was deterring Izuku from a path that would surely get him killed. That underlying terror, of losing the most important person in his life, had turned his words sharp and poisonous, toxic against the balm of their friendship. As Katsuki grew up, he cursed his younger self over and over again. He had lost the light of his life because of his own fear, his own insecurities, his own love. He knew that how he had justified his actions was wrong.

        After their fight at Ground Beta, Katsuki had made a silent vow to his gentler friend. Katsuki had vowed to protect Izuku from all of the atrocities that the world could throw at him, even Katsuki himself. He knew that he could never take back what he had done to his precious friend, and that no amount of effort on his part would erase what he had done to poor Izuku. No, he made this vow for a different reason. His promise to himself was one of fidelity, of repentance, of service. He vowed to spend his life making amends to his friend, to earn back the place by his side that he had so carelessly thrown away all those years ago. He never wanted Izuku to suffer like he had at the hands of the world, least of all from Katsuki. So he began his silent vigil around Izuku, vowing to be the protector that he should have been all these years.

        And what he saw terrified him. Izuku, in the simplest of terms, was an absolute menace. Even before his quirk - when he and Katsuki had spent long summer days tangled up in each other’s existences - Izuku ran headlong into danger, uncaring of his own safety. That’s what made him such an amazing and natural hero, and what Katsuki had recognized in his friend all those years ago. And it shook him to his core. To see Izuku, day after day, shattering himself for the benefit of others, breaking down his own fiery soul so that others may have a taste of warmth broke Katsuki a little bit every time he saw it. He wanted to shake Izuku, to wrap him in warmth and safety and hide and protect him from everyone who would and had taken advantage of him. But Katsuki knew that he didn’t deserve that. After all, wasn’t he the one most benefitting from Izuku’s selflessness? And he hadn’t done anything but take and take and take until Izuku was left with nothing else to give. So he held his hands back, opting instead to do what he could. When he saw Izuku at the edge, he made sure to pull the smaller boy back. When he saw rivers beginning to form on the pale expanses of his cheeks, Katsuki was there with a gruff word, building a dam to hold and collect the sadness. Katsuki tried his best to give back to the boy in the ways that he could, knowing that Izuku wouldn’t accept if he suspected that he was any burden on Katsuki. He would repair any part of Izuku that had been destroyed.

        And destroyed Izuku was. He had noticed during their fight at Ground Beta that Izuku’s jawline was sharper than usual, his cheeks just this side of sunken in. During their subsequent house arrest, Katsuki made it a point to touch and hold Izuku as much as he could. He had hidden it under the guise of committing to their getting along, but in reality he was reassuring himself of Izuku’s presence, that he boy hadn’t crumbled to ash under his clenching and burning fingers. Izuku, for his part, either didn’t notice, or didn’t seem to mind the increasing contact that Katsuki had on him. He would lean into the larger boy’s touches, downy soft skin caressed by calloused fingers. Katsuki knew that Izuku had been alone for a long time, but hadn’t expected the shorter boy to be so touch-starved that he would all but melt into Katsuki’s arms each time they touched. So he had kept the habit up long after their sentences had ended.

        Night after night, touch after blasted touch, Katsuki tore his soul to shreds with his confliction. As much as the touches comforted him, acted as a soothing balm against the blasts of his soul, he felt such immense and inane guilt in indulging himself in the loving touch. Kami knows that he didn’t deserve it. He treasured and feared and hated those touches in equal measure, a sign of both his growth and his insufficiency. Izuku was no help. Those sacred touches came so freely from the shorter boy, in measures that Katsuki feared and longed for. Sometimes Katsuki wanted to grab the boy by the shoulders and shake him for his nature. Izuku, his sweet ray of light, was too kind, too soft, too forgiving. His absolving of Katsuki’s sins against the altar of his flesh was one undeserved, in Katsuki’s eyes. How could the boy forgive him after all of his transgressions? He would never understand, couldn’t possibly fathom Izuku’s motives.

        In his heart, though, Katsuki recognized that Izuku could never have some motive for his touches or for his forgiveness. It wasn’t in Izuku’s nature. Katsuki knew that Izuku had forgiven him because he loved Katsuki and wanted the taller boy back in his life in any way possible. And who was he not to indulge Izuku’s every wish?

        Katsuki kept his hand on Izuku the entire way to the cafeteria. He felt Eijiro pull away momentarily as he moved to push the door open. Katsuki’s hand slid to Izuku’s waist and settled there, still rubbing small circles into the shorter boy’s skin. Izuku looked up at him, confusion clear in his gaze. Katsuki blanched, then scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning his head away to hide the redness of his face. He suddenly felt a small weight against the side of his chest. Izuku had leant into Katsuki’s embrace. Izuku closed his eyes and smiled gently. Katsuki felt his heart melt at the sight. He flushed, then looked over to Kirishima. The redhead grinned and winked.

        “I’ll get you guys some food, Bakubro.” Katsuki mouthed a Thank You over Izuku’s head and Kirishima grinned. He whipped his hand out from where it had been in his pocket and held it out in front of him, his other hand coming to rest on top as if he was taking notes. “So I have one order for spicy ramen. What can I get the other gentleman dining with us tonight? Katsudon?” Izuku giggled, and didn’t that sound make Katsuki melt into a puddle.

        “I’m all right, Kirishima, but thank you,” the shorter boy said, waving his hand in a placating manner. Kirishima frowned.

        “Are...are you sure, Midobro? You didn’t eat breakfast with us this morning. You must be pretty hungry.” Katsuki felt Izuku tense up under his arm, and he looked back down at the shorter boy’s face. Izuku had plastered on a smile, but Katsuki saw the panic well hidden in his eyes. His arm instinctually tightened around Izuku, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach when he saw Izuku’s slight flinch at the action. He gestured with his head to Kirishima to let him know that he was going to talk to Izuku in a more secluded place. Kirishima nodded, his forehead crinkling as he frowned slightly. Katsuki shifted his arm so that it was tugging Izuku back outside the doors and down the hallway to a more secluded alcove. He pulled Izuku down on to the bench and knelt down so that he could see the other boy’s face.

        “Hey,” Katsuki murmured, “Talk to me nerd. What’s going on?” He reached up and rested his hands on Izuku’s cheeks, rubbing his thumbs on the other boy’s freckles.

        “It’s nothing, Kacchan,” Izuku replied, not quite looking Katsuki in the eye. Katsuki frowned at the obvious lie, but kept up his ministrations on the other boy’s flesh.

        “It’s obviously something, you damn nerd. I can see you shaking. Why the hell won’t you eat anything? Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?” As soon as Katsuki had uttered the words, he knew it had been the wrong thing to say. Izuku’s face crumpled. He felt hot tears begin to drip over his hands as Izuku began to cry. “Fuck, Zuku, I’m sorry. Don’t cry.” Izuku sniffed and his breathing became erratic. Katsuki could see that Izuku was quickly slipping into a spiral of anxiety. Katsuki straightened up from his previous crouch in front of Izuku and slid onto the bench next to him, drawing the smaller boy towards his chest. He slid his arms under Izuku’s knees and draped them over his own. Izuku’s breath stuttered, but kept its rapidfire pace. To Katsuki’s horror, the green-haired boy began hitting his chest.

        “Hey,” Katsuki said, grabbing Izuku’s wrist. Izuku let out a small keening noise, and hiccuped wetly. “Zuku, if you’re gonna hit anyone, you hit me. Got it?” Sensing that Katsuki’s hand on his wrist was making Izuku panic even more, Katsuki led the other boy’s hand to his chest before covering the small gnarled hand with his own. Izuku’s hand felt like ice, and not for the first time, Katsuki thanked whatever higher power there was that he naturally ran quite hot. “Zuku I need you to follow my breathing, okay?” Izuku didn’t say anything, didn’t show any reaction to tell Katsuki that he had even heard. Then Katsuki felt the fragile hand pressed to his chest tap twice.

        When Izuku and Katsuki were younger, before the world had torn the two boys apart, Katsuki and Izuku had been inseparable. So much so that Katsuki had seen Izuku during some of his “attacks” - moments, as Izuku referred to them. The first time that it happened, Katsuki had thought that Izuku was dying, and almost called an ambulance had it not been for his mother walking into the room before he could reach the phone. Later that evening, after Izuku had left, Katsuki’s mother explained what happened. She had said that Izuku has moments where sometimes he couldn’t talk, when every sensory input would become too much. Sometimes, he might feel like he couldn’t breathe, and sometimes he just shut down. Inko suspected something, but with Hisashi leaving, she couldn’t afford to take Izuku to get tested. Katsuki, as he grew older, also realized that it wouldn’t have mattered all that much. With Izuku’s quirkless diagnosis, any medical or mental problem the boy would face would more likely than not be blamed on his quirklessness than any actual issue the boy would face. It would have been a waste of time and money for Inko, and would have an emotional toll on Izuku.

        Katsuki had asked his mother how he could help. She had smiled and told him that she didn’t know, but they could do some research together. Based on their research, Katski and Mitsuki came up with a small system of nonverbal communication for when Izuku couldn’t speak. When Katsuki began slowly losing his hearing, they incorporated JSL into their system. But the fundamentals didn’t change, and Katsuki was glad of it. Sometimes even sign was too hard for Izuku when he was in the middle of an attack, so having a simple system was better for them. Katsuki thanked his lucky stars that he remembered the system, and that Izuku remembered it as well.

        Katsuki placed his hand on Izuku’s back, keeping Izuku’s hand splayed on his own chest. He breathed in a familiar pattern: 8 seconds in, 8 seconds out. He felt Izuku’s stuttering breath as he tried to follow the pattern. Katsuki whispered small words of encouragement as, after a few torturous minutes, he felt Izuku finally be able to copy his breathing pattern. Once he felt Izuku’s breathing pattern even out, he began rubbing his hand on Izuku’s back, and then up to the back of his neck. Katsuki leaned forward so that his forehead rested against Izuku’s own.

        “Is this okay?” he asked, “Are you okay with being touched right now?” Katsuki felt two taps on his chest and smiled. “You’re doing great, Zuku. Just breathe.” Katsuki felt Izuku pull away from him slightly, then lean back in in rapid succession. Katsuki looked at Izuku, not realizing that he had closed his eyes. Izuku wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the green eyes focused on their clasped hands. Izuku was rocking back and forth slightly, as if he needed to move, but didn’t want Katsuki to let go.

        “Zuku, do you want to rock?” Katsuki asked, and felt the now familiar two taps on his chest. Katsuki nodded to himself, and then spoke. “Zuku, I’m gonna need my hand back for a minute.” At Izuku’s expression, both lost and terrified, Katsuki huffed a small laugh. “I’m staying here nerd. I’m just going to hug you. Is that okay?” Katsuki waited for the two taps, and once he felt it, slid his arms back under Izuku’s legs. He pulled the smaller boy onto his lap, marvelling slightly at how light the boy was, then wrapped his arms around Izuku’s shoulders, squeezing softly. That seemed to do the trick. Izuku melted bonelessly against Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki laid his chin on top of the smaller boy’s nest of curls, and began to rock back and forth. Katsuki had discovered that this motion helped calm Izuku down after an attack.

        After a few minutes, Izuku’s hand slipped out from where it had been pressed against Katsuki’s chest and tapped his bicep three times. Katsuki stopped rocking. Once meant no, twice meant yes, three times meant stop. Izuku pulled his head away from where it had been resting against Katsuki’s shoulder and looked up at the taller boy, not quite making eye contact.

        Izuku’s hands formed Kirishima’s sign name. Katsuki blanched. He’s worried about Shitty Hair at a time like this? Izuku’s hands moved again. Mad? He signed. Bakugo blinked, then realizing what Izuku was asking, began talking.

        “No, Zuku. Shitty Hair’s not mad at you. He won’t be mad at you for needing a few minutes.” Izuku slumped in relief against Katsuki’s chest, a sigh escaping from his lips to caress the side of Katsuki’s neck. Katsuki’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Carefully, so as not to dislodge his companion, he pulled out the phone and scrolled to the new message. It was from Kirishima.

(Red) Riot Grrl: Is everything okay? Deku looked pretty messed up. Katsuki texted back.

Ground Zero: He had a panic attack.

(Red) Riot Grrl: Is he okay??!!!?!?!!?!

Ground Zero: He’s calm now. I don’t know if he’ll be able to come back in. Crowds and shit stress him out.

(Red) Riot Grrl: Okey. Let me know if you want me to bring your food out to you.

Ground Zero: Thanks, Hair-For-Brains

(Red) Riot Grrl: :P

        “Zuku,” Katsuki said. Izuku’s head snapped up, his green eyes watching Katsuki’s lips blearily. “Are you okay?” Katsuki felt two taps and smiled. “That’s good, Zuku. Remember two options? We’re gonna do that now.” Izuku nodded, then shifted back in Katsuki’s lap so that he could see both of the taller boy’s hands.

        Two options was another trick that Katsuki and his mother had come up with. When Izuku was having trouble talking, but still needed to make a decision, gave him two options and held out a hand for each option. Izuku pointed at, gestured to, or patted the hand aligning with what he wanted. It was a bit of a lifesaver, but the limit of two options annoyed Katsuki a bit.

        Gesturing to his left hand, the blonde boy spoke. “Okay so we can either go back to the classroom,” he gestured to his right hand, “or we can go into the cafeteria. Which one?” Izuku bit his lip and hesitated, his hand trembling. Izuku’s eyes looked almost longingly at Katsuki’s left hand, at his offer of space and quiet. His other hand came up to fiddle with his curls, twisting and mangling the green strands. Izuku drew his hand back.

        Kacchan stay? He signed, fingers fumbling. What? Katsuki thought. Izuku continued. Don’t want Kacchan miss friends. Kacchan need eat. Katsuki, slightly assuaged because of Izuku’s being able to formulate something more resembling a sentence, sighed. Obviously Izuku wanted to go back to the classroom, but why wouldn’t he say something. And why would he ask if Katsuki would sta- oh.

        “Zuku,” he mumbled, drawing the smaller boy closer, “I’m not going to be mad or upset at whatever you choose. No one’s going to mind that you need a little space right now. And Shitty Hair offered to bring me food. Don’t stess about this, baby.” Katsuki flushed slightly at his slip, then held his hands out again. After a second more of hesitation, Izuku reached out and tapped Katsuki’s left hand twice. Katsuki smiled, leaning his forehead against Izuku’s own. “I’m going to text Shitty Hair so that he knows where we are. Good?” Izuku nodded. Katsuki reached around Izuku’s back and began typing out a message on his phone.

Ground Zero: I’m taking Deku back to the classroom. Can you bring me food? ANd maybe a bowl of rice for Deku?

(Red) Riot Grrl: Sure man. Is he okay?

Ground Zero: He’ll be fine, he just gets overwhelmed sometimes.

(Red) Riot Grrl: Okey.

        Katsuki locked his phone. He shifted Izuku on his lap and slid his hands under the other’s boney knees. His other arm encircled Izuku’s back. With a swift and fluid motion, he stood up, eliciting a squeak from the smaller boy. Izuku wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s neck and buried his head against the taller boy’s shoulder. Katsuki strode off towards the classroom.

Chapter Text

Izuku felt more than saw. Strong and warm arms cradled him to a broad chest. He bobbed softly in a sea of sensation. The soft scent of burnt sugar wafted around him and stuck to his nose. He felt the quiet heat of a neck against his forehead, and scratchy smoothness of a starched shirt against his cheek. His ears were ringing at a fever pitch, loud enough that Izuku couldn’t hear anything else. His hand, gnarled and crooked, clutched a woolen fabric between his fingers. His skin, that had earlier felt like it was on fire, now smoldered at a lower intensity. He recognized this feeling as the aftermath of an attack. The world would often fade out into just sensations. Sometimes the input would feel like tongues of flame pulling at his skin. This time, the world felt muted, dusted over in a light snowfall that smelt of burnt sugar. In the back of his mind, Izuku blearily realized that it was Kacchan holding him. His immediate reaction would have been to blush and stammer, to apologize for taking up Katsuki’s time and energy.

However, he was too tired to do more than lift his head and open his eyes to gaze at Kacchan. A firm and sharpened jaw struck out from the muscled expanse of his neck. High cheekbones slanted across to a regal nose. Ivory skin swirled in the half-light of the sun. Twin circles of crimson hid half-shrouded under pale lids tipped with dandelion fuzz. Locks of blanched wheat swept down over a pale forehead. In Izuku’s mind, he wasn’t looking at the figure of his childhood friend. Instead he gazed at the sun, a voyeur in the light of a star. He bathed in a light that he didn’t deserve. Katsuki was a supernova burning bright, and Izuku was the planet caught in its fire. The sunlight shining through the window hit his eye, and he buried his head back in Katsuki’s neck, closing his eyes against the onslaught of sensation.

He felt the taller boy pause and shift his body in the embrace, then movement once more. They descended, Izuku coming to rest on pillowy thighs encaged in fabric. He felt two hands reach to his shoulders and begin sliding the bag off of his back. A hand came and caressed his cheek. He opened his eyes once again. Katsuki had brought him back to the 1-A classroom. His eyes found Katsuki’s again. Izuku’s back leaned against the wood of the desk behind him. Two hands entered his vision. Izuku blinked, his own hand tapping a rhythmless beat against the knuckles of his hand. The blonde’s mouth moved. Izuku couldn’t hear his request over the buzzing in his brain. He reached up a hand and scratched at his ear, whining softly. Katsuki’s brow crinkled, and he began to sign.

Can you not hear me? Izuku shook his head and signed back clumsily.

Buzzing noise. Loud. Hurts. Katsuki nodded.

Do you want to sit on my lap or at your desk? Katsuki held his two hands out, fingerspelling “lap” on his left hand and “desk” on his right. Izuku hesitated. He wanted to stay in Katsuki’s warm embrace, in the light of his sun, but he was terrified. He had already inconvenienced Katsuki enough by having an attack and needing to be calmed down. Katsuki must have seen his hesitation. He leaned forward and bumped his forehead against Izuku’s. With his left hand, he tapped twice on Izuku’s shoulder, then signed Okay? Izuku nodded and buried his head once again in Katsuki’s shoulder. He felt Katsuki’s strong arms encircle his back once again, a large and warm hand beginning to rub slowly up and down his back. Izuku clutched the fabric of the other boy’s uniform and scratched at his ears again in a desperate attempt to make the buzzing go away, whimpering softly at the pain.

One of Katsuki’s arms wrapped around his waist and he felt Katsuki’s chest lean away from him. Izuku opened his eyes. Katsuki was rummaging through Izuku’s bag, searching for something. Not finding what he was looking for, he sat back up and tapped Izuku on the nose to get his attention.

Headphones? Katsuki signed. Izuku usually carried a pair of noise-cancelling headphones with him at all times. They helped tremendously when Izuku was in a large crowd or a place that he was uncomfortable with. They were also a huge help in calming down after an attack. Izuku’s face scrunched up.

Left in dorm.

Katsuki breathed in what Izuku assumed was a sigh. Internally, Izuku panicked. Kacchan was mad at him for forgetting. Kacchan was annoyed. Kacchan hated that he had to be the one to take care of Izuku. Kacchan would never talk to him again. He would die alone. He should have taken Kacchan’s advice from middle school. Why couldn’t he do anything right? Katsuki tapped Izuku on the nose.

It’s okay. He signed. Will you be able to use my headphones? They’re not noise-cancelling but they’re better than nothing. Izuku nodded, and Katsuki smiled. Izuku felt the warmth of a happy sun shine on his face, and pulled his own mask into a mockery of one himself. Katsuki hooked his hand around Izuku’s waist again and leaned back down, this time into his own bag, before pulling out a set of earphones.

Without warning, Katsuki’s hands came up and cradled his face for a moment, before they slipped onto the side of his neck. He felt the earphones being pressed into place. The hands came back into his field of vision. One cradled the side of his face, a calloused thumb rubbing against his cheekbone. Katsuki frowned slightly. His other hand came up next to Izuku’s face.

Where’s your phone? Katsuki signed. Izuku looked down, patting his pockets until he found his phone. He pulled it out and handed it to the older boy. Katsuki tapped his nose as he took the phone from Izuku’s hand and deftly entered Izuku’s password. He plugged the earphones in and opened the music app. Wordlessly, he turned the screen towards Izuku, silently asking him what he wanted to listen to. Izuku reached out and tapped the screen, choosing one of his comfort albums and pressing play. Katsuki raised his eyebrows in surprise, but said nothing. The sound of guitars and drums filtered through the buzzing, eventually cutting through entirely until the music was all that Izuku could hear. Izuku leaned back into Katsuki’s chest. Immediately, Katsuki held him in a comforting embrace, his hand now stroking Izuku’s hair and occasionally sliding down to his neck. Izuku closed his eyes as the voice of the singer blared through the headphones.

Katsuki shifted slightly under him, and one of his arms pulled away from Izuku. He blearily opened an eye, scared that Katsuki was trying to disentangle him. His fears were assuaged as he saw Katsuki pull out a book and begin reading. Izuku closed his eyes again and nuzzled his face into Katsuki’s neck. Izuku’s body relaxed incrementally against Katsuki as he calmed down. Even if it was Katsuki just putting up with him, he felt the warm rays of a star against his skin and melted into the safety of their embrace. A hand returned to his back, restarting its ministrations as the song’s chorus came through the speakers of the earphones.

“So long and goodnight, so long and goodnight.”

Chapter Text

Katuski sat in the contentedness of the moment. One hand slowly rubbed against Izuku’s back. His other hand held a novel. Katsuki wasn’t usually one for reading fiction, but Izuku had recommended it to him, and Katsuki would follow every whim of the boy currently cradled on his lap. He felt soft puffs of breath against his neck and light taps on his chest as Izuku tapped his fingers along to the beat of whichever song he was listening to. The smaller boy’s breathing was soft and regular and if Katsuki didn’t know Izuku as well as he did, he would think that Izuku was asleep. But Izuku would never sleep in such an open and vulnerable place. Katsuki knew that this was his fault and cursed himself again for his failures.

A sharp breath issued from Izuku’s mouth, hitching slightly. Katsuki looked down in alarm. He saw Izuku wince the slightest bit and press his hand against the flatness of his stomach. Izuku curled into a smaller position, bringing his legs to his chest and pressing his face deeper into Katsuki’s neck. He felt the sharp angle of a nose and the softness of lips caress the sensitive skin of his neck and flushed at the unexpected touch. Hoping to suppress any unwanted bodily reactions, Katsuki turned his head slightly and buried his face in the mass of soft green curls, bringing his hand to scratch lightly at the back of Izuku’s neck. It might have been Katsuki’s imagination, or perhaps the soft sounds of the music (turned up to a rather concerning volume) filtering out of the headphones, but Katsuki swore that Izuku was purring. He nuzzled his head into the mass of green curls.

The door to the classroom opened. Katsuki jerked his head up, glaring at the intruder and wrapping his arms around Izuku. It was Kirishima, his arms laden down with food. Katsuki sighed and nodded at the redhead. Kirishima wove his way through the desks and placed the trays down on Katsuki’s desk.

“Thanks, Shitty Hair.” Katsuki looked down at his desk. Kirishima had stuck to his word. In front of Katsuki lay a steaming bowl of ramen with a reddish film indicating his spice. Kirishima, being the iconic friend he is, had also brought a bottle of Katsuki’s favorite hot sauce. On a separate tray was a small bowl of rice and an unidentified cup. Katsuki nodded his approval and Kirishima smiled. Kirishima pointed to his ears, then at Izuku. Katsuki shook his head. “He’s got headphones on right now. He can’t hear us.” Kirishima nodded, then pulled the chair from the desk next to Katsuki and sat down.

“How’s he doing?” Katsuki sighed. He knew that the question was coming, but dreaded answering all the same. Kirishima had a kind heart and strived to protect all of his friends from the dangers of the world.

“Not great. He had a panic attack and I’m assuming some kind of sensory overload. He can’t really talk right now.” Kirishima nodded, then looked at Izuku. HIs brow crinkled.

“Bakubro, can I touch him?” Katsuki started, then stared at Kirishima.

“Shitty Hair, he’s not a pet.” Katsuki ground out, hackles rising. Kirishima may be his friend, but he would die before letting anyone do something to Izuku that the boy couldn’t consent to or wasn’t comfortable with.

“No that’s not what I meant! I just want to know if he’s comfortable being touched by someone who isn’t you. I know that some people don’t like being touched after sensory overload.” Katsuki deflated. “You know, Bakubro. You’re kind of like a guard dog. It’s cute.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Shitty Hair?!” Katsuki leaned forward, teeth bared. Even in his anger, Kirishima noticed that Katuski’s movements were subdued, an effort to not disturb his precious charge. Izuku opened his eyes, blinking. Both boys froze. Izuku focused on Kirishima. Normally, if he was caught in a position like this, Izuku would be a blushing and stammering mess. However, it seemed that his panic attack had sapped most of his energy. Instead of freaking out, Izuku just stared at Kirishima as he laid on Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki’s hand returned to its place on Izuku’s head. Kirishima grinned at Izuku.

How you doin, Midobro? Kirishima signed. Izuku shrugged. Are you okay with me touching you, Mido? Izuku nodded. Kirishima grinned again and reached out to ruffle Izuku’s hair. Izuku leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. Kirishima looked up at Katsuki.

“Want me to take him so you can eat?” Katsuki paused.

“Ask him if its okay.” Kirishima nodded, then signed to Izuku. Katsuki didn’t quite catch their conversation, but felt Izuku shift on his lap. Izuku reached up and kissed Katsuki on the cheek, then reached out his arms to Kirishima. Katsuki felt his cheeks burn, and he hid his face with his hand as Izuku was pulled out of his lap. If Kirishima noticed the interaction, he didn’t verbalize it, instead giving Katsuki a searching look as Izuku’s arms wrapped around his neck.

“Careful,” Katsuki bit out, “He can be a clingy little shit.” Kirishima just laughed in response. Sighing softly, Katsuki dug into his food, sending a silent thank you for having a friend like Kirishima.

Kirishima gazed at the boy curled up in his arms. His heart broke a little. Izuku looked so small, so fragile. Kirishima feared that if he touched the boy in the wrong way, Izuku would shatter into a million pieces. Izuku blinked blearily up at Kirishima, his brow furrowed. His hand came up and touched Kirishima’s cheek gently before retracting back down.

You okay? Izuku signed. Kirishima’s heart shattered a bit more. Izuku, completely drained and vulnerable after a panic attack, was worried about Kirishima? Kirishima felt his eyes water a little bit as he nodded.

I’m great, Mido. Now, I have a surprise for you. Izuku tilted his head. One thing though, you can only have the surprise if you have a few bites of rice. Izuku narrowed his eyes and clasped his hands together before pointing them at Kirishima in a “bOI” motion. Kirishima snorted then continued signing. I guess if you don’t want a cup of your favorite coffee, I can just give it to Bakubro. Izuku’s eyes widened. Kirishima grinned.

He knew that one of the best ways to get Midoriya to do what you wanted - especially if it concerned his physical or emotional wellbeing - was to bribe him with coffee. One of the few perks of Izuku’s rather concerning caffeine addiction was its use as a bribing chip. Kirishima shifted Izuku on his lap so that the smaller boy was facing the desk. He reached over and dragged the bowl of rice from where it sat next to Katsuki, the other boy’s eyes following its movements. Izuku grimaced as he looked at the bowl. Kirishima tapped the side of his head so that Izuku would look at him.

You don’t have to finish it. Just have some. Izuku nodded, and gripped the chopsticks that Kirishima placed in his hand. Fumbling a bit, Izuku began to eat, taking slow bites with long breaks in between. Kirishima rubbed his chest in a comforting manner, grinning slightly at each bite Izuku took. Katsuki glanced up occasionally, nodding his approval at both Kirishima and Izuku as he saw the boy eating. After the bowl was about halfway gone, Izuku put down his chopsticks and massaged his stomach, grimacing slightly. Kirishima sighed, placing his head on top of Izuku’s. He reached over to the travel mug that he had brought, wordlessly handing it to the smaller boy. The green-haired boy sighed in relief as he took the mug from Kirishima and sipped. He squeaked in delight and rapidly shifted on Kirishima’s lap, nuzzling his head into Kirishima’s neck. Kirishima’s face turned as red as his hair, and he looked over at Katsuki.

“Good one. I told you he was super clingy, though.” Katsuki smiled softly at the sight of Izuku and continued eating his food. The rest of the lunch period passed the same way, Kirishima cuddling Izuku as Katsuki looked on in approval and the slightest bit of longing. Once there were about five minutes left in the period, Katsuki tapped Izuku on the nose. He gestured for Izuku to pull out the headphones.

“Think you’ll be able to sit at your desk for class?” He questioned. Izuku nodded. He hesitated, then squeezed Kirishima in a hug and tapped their noses together. He rose from the other boy’s lap and stumbled to his own desk. Kirishima, still bright red, looked at Bakugo.

“I’m gonna take your stuff back to the cafeteria.” His voice wavered, still recovering from Izuku’s affection. Bakugo laughed at his reaction. Kirishima stood up and, collecting the bowls from Bakugo’s desk, exited the room, all but running to the cafeteria so that he wouldn’t be late. Izuku waved at him as he left, and he gave the smaller boy a wide grin.

Katsuki turned in his seat to watch Izuku. The green-haired boy slumped over in his desk with his head nestled in his arms. Katsuki tapped the desk in front of him twice to get the other boy’s attention.

Can you talk right now? He signed. Izuku straightened up a bit and hesitated, then shook his head. Katsuki nodded. It’s okay. I’m just going to let Aizawa know so he doesn’t call on you. Izuku nodded and slumped back over. Katsuki swiveled back around just as Aizawa entered the room. The two stared at each other.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Aizawa grumbled. Katsuki snorted. “He taking a nap?”

“No, he’s awake. He can’t talk right now though. Just had a panic attack.” Aizawa nodded, then walked over. He placed his hand on Izuku’s curls, prompting the small boy to look up at him blearily. Izuku fumbled with the earphone, pulling it out so that he could hear Aizawa’s words. Aizawa whispered something softly to Izuku just low enough that Katsuki couldn’t hear his words. Izuku nodded softly and Aizawa ruffled the smaller boy’s hair. Aizawa headed back towards his desk and sat down, almost immediately pulling out a thermos of coffee from Kami knows where. Katsuki sank down in his seat, opening the novel in front of him to the page that he left off on.

Chapter Text

Aizawa considered himself a rather observant individual. One had to be in the Underground Hero-ing business. Any small detail might mean the difference between life and death. Aizawa had made it a point to observe his surroundings in great detail at any given time. This was a rather helpful habit when it came to Class 1-A. After their rather eventful first weeks at UA, Aizawa began picking up on the idiosyncrasies and habits of his charges. The implementation of the dorms encouraged this tenfold. Todoroki, for example, would brood much more intensely after a visit home.

Aizawa loved his students, although he would never admit it, much less to their faces. But picking up on their habits allowed him to give them the support that they needed without seeming overbearing or - Kami forbid - making it seem like he actually cared. He did, but they could never know, lest anyone think that the obstinate and curmudgeonly Eraserhead was going soft. He often found himself doing things for his students - anonymously of course. If Uraraka walked in every so often to find a few packaged lunches waiting for her, well, Aizawa saw nothing. Hizashi often cooked way too much for the two of them and Eri, so it was no skin off his nose to give the girl some extra food. Needless to say, Nedzu definitely has footage of Shota asking Hizashi how to surreptitiously give food to his students and the blonde immediately going into a cooking frenzy and making a schedule for meals. But that’s neither here nor there. And if the girls of Class 1-A found recording devices with a note attached saying to record Mineta’s bullshit, well Aizawa wouldn’t say that he was the one to leave them on certain desks, but he’ll take the footage all the same. Any evidence is good in potential expulsions or courts of law.

Aizawa definitely cared about his students, and seeing them tear themselves apart hurt his heart a little every time. With Izuku Midoriya around, Shota was surprised that he hadn’t had a heart attack yet. The boy had absolutely no self-preservation instincts. Every broken bone, every near miss, every knife against the back of his student had Aizawa tearing his hair out. So when he saw those knives coming from Midoriya himself, he knew he had to do something.

Aizawa trudged into the classroom, coffee in hand. He usually used lunch time to prepare for upcoming lessons (read: take a nap). So he was rather surprised to see his two resident problem children sitting at their desks. Bakugo seemed to be signing at Midoriya. The boy turned around and stared at Aizawa, as if he was the one intruding instead of the other way around.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he deadpanned, earning a snort from the blonde. He looked over at Midoriya. The boy had his face nestled in his hands, rock music blaring from the earphones that Aizawa guessed were Bakugo’s. This posture seemed so tired and defeated, so unlike the normally determined boy. Aizawa was more than a little concerned. “He taking a nap?”

Bakugo shook his head and replied. “No, he’s awake. He can’t talk right now though. Just had a panic attack.” Aizawa nodded, mentally sighing. Of course the Problem Child had done something to make himself break so absolutely. Aizawa suspected that either he or All Might had been pushing the boy too far.

He walked over to Midoriya’s desk, patting his student on the head to get his attention. Exhausted green eyes hazily focused on his own as Midoriya fumbled with the headphone in his ear. He talked softly, his concern for Midoriya lowering his volume and vocal timbre.

“Don’t stress about paying attention right now, kid. I’ll make sure to give you the notes. I’d rather you rest, got it?” Midoriya nodded, and Aizawa smiled gently, half surprised at the ease with which Midoriya agreed. He had expected some protest. He must really be exhausted. Aizawa ruffled the small boy’s hair and strode back to the front of the classroom. Sinking down into his chair, he pulled out his thermos of coffee and took a sip, trying to enjoy the last few minutes of peace before the chaos of Class 1-A resumed. Bakugo began flipping through the novel on his desk and Aizawa closed his eyes.

The rest of the class trickled in as the countdown to the period started. Some, like Iida and Uraraka, came in earlier. Others, like Kaminari, made it to their seats just seconds before the bell sounded off. He noticed Todoroki, Iida, and Uraraka making their way over to Midoriya’s desk, presumably to ask after his wellbeing. He stopped them with a glare, wordlessly gesturing for them to return to their seats. They complied, but not without throwing their friend multiple concerned glances. It seemed that the whole class followed suit, Kirishima going so far as to lean over to try to do… something to Midoriya. Whether the boy was going to ask after Midoriya’s wellbeing or ruffle his hair, Aizawa decided to nix that in order to let his Problem Child rest. Aizawa smiled faintly under his capture scarf, then cleared his throat.

“Seeing as many of your scores were rather abysmal on the last test, I’ve decided to use this period as a study hall. You may study in groups or individually, but I expect you to keep the noise to a dull roar. Don’t bother me, and don’t bother anyone who doesn’t look like they want company right now.” He pointedly looked at Todoroki, whose gaze had immediately shot to Midoriya’s hunched back. Aizawa had actually planned more of a structured review session on Hero Laws, but decided that independent studying was a better idea. After all, it meant that Aizawa could take a nap. And if it meant that his Problem Child could rest a little more, well, no one needed to know.

Chapter Text

After the surprisingly pleasant study class they had with Aizawa, the students of Class 1-A were excited to go back to the dorms. It was Friday, after all. Some students, namely Kaminari and Mina, were excitedly making plans for the weekend full of hanging out and, more likely than not, some haphazard mischief. Todoroki, Iida, Uraraka, and Asui lingered in the classroom. All of them had seen the state that Midoriya had been in and silently made plans to comfort him (read: confront him about what exactly was wrong). Their plans were foiled by none other than Katsuki Bakugo.

As the quartet began to make their way to the green-haired boy’s desk, Bakugo swung around in his seat and pulled out the earphone that was lodged in Midoriya’s ear. He mumbled something, and Midoriya nodded. Bakugo pressed the earphone back into Midoriya’s ear. The blonde gathered his belongings into his bag and grabbed the strap of Midoriya’s. He hauled the smaller boy out of his seat and, wrapping his arm around Midoriya’s shoulders, began guiding him out of the room. Midoriya pressed his head into Bakugo’s side, eyes barely open. As the two passed the larger group, Bakugo deftly maneuvered Midoriya to his other side, acting as a blockade against their questions. Uraraka huffed in outrage, and Todoroki glared at the blonde. Bakugo glared at each one of them in turn as he and Midoriya exited the room. Throughout the whole exchange, Midoriya hadn’t reacted, acted for all the world like he didn’t see or process anything around him except for Bakugo’s arm on his shoulder.

The group was speechless. Todoroki was the first to break the silence.

“I don’t know that the hell that was, but Bakugo is obviously doing something to Midoriya. He wouldn’t even let us near him.” Uraraka nodded, frowning. A voice from the front of the room sounded.

“You and I are apparently seeing two different interactions.” Four heads whipped around to face Aizawa, still wrapped up in his sleeping bag.

“Mr. Aizawa, you can’t be serious. You know they have some sort of tense history.” Uraraka gestured wildly with her hands to emphasize her point. Asui nodded along.

“What I saw was Bakugo giving the Problem Child support without being overbearing. Something that you four would do well to learn. I know you guys are friends, but Bakugo obviously cares about Midoriya too.” The quartet paused. Iida deflated from his earlier tense position.

“I suppose you are right, Mr. Aizawa. We can’t understand what their relationship is like. I suppose that we are just cautious to allow Bakugo around Midoriya because of the information that we have.” Aizawa nodded.

“I understand. I’m glad that you share such a bond. Just find out all of the facts before you jump to conclusions.” With that, Aizawa departed the classroom, his students following suit shortly after.

“Should we go find Midoriya?” Asui questioned. “It seemed like he was pretty out of it today.” Todoroki shook his head.

“As much as I would like to, Aizawa was right. Let’s give him some space for now.” The other three nodded, then departed back to the dorms.

Katsuki led Izuku into the elevator. Izuku leaned against Katsuki, shivering slightly. The taller boy shook his head and placed his hands in Izuku’ field of vision.
“Okay, nerd. Your room or mine?” Izuku hesitated, then tapped Katsuki’s left hand, indicating that he wanted to go to his own room. Katsuki made a thumbs up gesture to Izuku to indicate that he understood, then pressed the button that would take the two to Izuku’s floor. They exited the elevator and came to a stop outside of the green-haired boy’s door. Wordlessly, Katsuki reached into Izuku’s pants pocket where he knew the key was. Izuku let him with no resistance, opting instead to lean against Katsuki. The blonde fumbled with the key and opened the door.
The room was dim, curtains being pulled across the large windows. Katsuki trudged in, Izuku following close behind. He dropped the bags that he was holding on the floor and helped Izuku out of his blazer. He pushed gently at Izuku’s shoulder, guiding him in the direction of his dresser.

“Get comfy, nerd. We’re staying here for a while.” Izuku made no indication that he had heard Katsuki, but padded slowly to the dresser all the same. Katsuki fiddled with the hangers in the closet. After a minute, he shrugged off his own blazer. He turned around. Izuku held a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, one that Katsuki knew to be softer than the downy fur of a cat’s ear. The shorter boy wordlessly held up his prize, as if asking for Katsuki’s approval. Katsuki tilted his head in question, unsure of what Izuku was asking.

Do you want it? It’s really soft. Kacchan should be in soft things. Katsuki shook his head.

“You wear it nerd. I’d probably rip the seams or something.” Not expecting a response other than a nod, Katsuki turned away slightly, only to whip around at the sound of a tinkling laugh. Katsuki’s normally sullen face, currently drawn smooth as a result of his proximity to Izuku, softened even further into what some people might call fond. Unbidden, Katsuki’s lips curled up into a smile. He laughed along with Izuku, who by now was almost doubled over, slight gasps escaping his lips as he tried to catch his breath between fits of giggles. Katsuki didn’t really understand why this had humored Izuku so much, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Izuku’s current behavior was so far removed from his earlier hysteria and Katsuki couldn’t be more grateful.

If there was one person in the world who deserved to live in constant joy, never plagued by the horrors of the world, it was the kindhearted and valiant boy standing in front of him. Izuku Midoriya was a shining star, and Katsuki was a planet, gladly caught in orbit. Katsuki closed the distance between them, bringing his hand to cup Izuku’s cheek. The smaller boy leaned into the touch, softly closing his eyes in contentment. Katsuki’s thumb brushed against the soft flesh, creating tiny circles. Izuku opened his eyes. A small hand drifted up to Katsuki’s wrist, latching on. Izuku turned his head slightly, leaving a chaste kiss on Katsuki’s palm. Katsuki felt heat rising into his cheeks, his mouth forming a small and adoring smile. His hand entwined in Izuku’s and he pulled the fragile hand towards him. Bringing his other hand up, he cradled Izuku’s hand, beautiful and perfect in its imperfect way, and kissed the gnarled knuckles. Bringing the hand close to his chest, and Izuku closer to himself, he wove his free arm around Izuku and pressed his lips to the other boy’s forehead. Izuku melted in his arms.
Still clinging to the small boy, Katsuki maneuvered himself around the room until he could lower Izuku onto his bed. As the smaller boy sat down, he kneeled in front of Izuku. Cupping the small boy’s cheek again, he spoke.

“Zuku, is it okay if I go change?” Izuku nodded, entwining his fingers with Katsuki’s and pressing his lips once again onto Katsuki’s hand, this time on his knuckles. Katsuki smiled. “I’ll only be gone like five minutes. Go change and I’ll come back down once I’m done.” Katsuki pressed his lips onto Izuku’s forehead and, waving slightly to the boy, headed to his own room.

Once Katsuki was gone, Izuku spontaneously combusted. He had kissed Kacchan, and the boy had returned the affection with such tenderness that Izuku’s heart raced. He fiddled with his collar, desperately trying to control the blush creeping up into his cheeks. No time to freak out, Izuku thought, Kacchan’s coming back soon. With that thought in mind, Izuku turned to the matter at hand. Izuku closed his eyes and began unbuttoning his shirt. He didn’t want to see, to perceive himself. Izuku had changed with his eyes closed for a long time, since he couldn’t remember when. The thought of seeing himself as he was, as he had become, as anything at all terrified him. Better to block it all out. It couldn’t hurt him if he couldn’t see it, right? Izuku shucked off his pants, quickly sliding on the softer pair. The effect on Izuku was almost instantaneous. He sagged in relief on his bed, melting into the slight fabric. The scratch of his school uniform faded away with the soft caress of his sweatshirt. The green-haired boy relished in the sensation of softness, of not having to stop himself from scratching at the fabric or picking at his skin to cope with the feeling. The small boy began to sway from side to side, tapping his face on a shoulder with each sway. Izuku didn’t know how much time had passed as he rocked there, a small grin on his face at the sensation.

Without warning, a soft knock at the door came. Izuku stood up to answer, then immediately wished he hadn’t. His vision went hazy and he swayed slightly, falling back onto his bed rather ungracefully. He breathed through his nose, desperately trying to dispel the haze clouding his vision. The door opened.

It was Todoroki.

Chapter Text

Mismatched eyes stared into green ones. Neither spoke for quite a while. Izuku dropped his gaze, eyes refocusing on the carpet beneath his feet. Faded patterns of dreams long ago stretched out before his eyes, toes digging into the comforting feeling of the past. Todoroki spoke first.

“Midoriya.” Izuku’s hand came up to his mouth, teeth worrying the frayed skin of his cuticle. Todoroki took a step forward into the room. Into Izuku’s space. Into Izuku’s sense of safety, one that he couldntwouldnt didn’t want to share with anyone except Kacchan at the moment. He knew that Todoroki wouldn’t hurt him, that he felt safe around the other boy. But his body reacted instinctually, still rather on edge because of his previous panicked state. He couldn’t quite repress the small flinch that he gave as Todoroki took another step in. The other boy stopped.

“Mid- Izuku.” Izuku tilted his head in Todo- Shoto’s direction in acknowledgement of his presence. The skin on his thumbnail peeled back further, diving further down his finger. “Are you okay?” Izuku hesitated, then shrugged. The skin peeled further back, a tiny pinprick of pain emanating from the abused joint. With his other hand, he gestured to Shoto with a “so-so” gesture, then drew the limb back into himself. He curled into his chest, making himself smaller, less of a target. Shoto drew back, seeing the movement. “You seemed sad and withdrawn in class. I wanted to ask if there was anything that I could do for you.” Izuku curled more into himself, his other hand picking at a stray flap of skin on one of his fingers. Izuku couldn’t fathom such care and concern, much less from the normally stoic boy who seemed to be crouching down in his doorway. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want the concern or the shadowed looks or the pity. He wanted to feel warm and safe, his fragility protected by strong and warm arms. He wanted Kacchan. Izuku’s fingers began to bleed. Shoto made a move to cross the room to Izuku’s side when an angry voice made itself known in the doorway behind Shoto.

“What in the fresh fuck are you doing here, Icy Hot?” Izuku didn’t hear anything else. He curled an arm around his head and brought his uncovered ear to rest on his knee, closing his eyes. Kacchan was here. Kacchan would keep him safe. Kacchan doesn’t pity him. Kacchan wouldn’t leave him again. Izuku didn’t know how long he stayed in this position. He only came back to himself as he felt warm and calloused hands lay themselves gently on his own. Warm crimson eyes gazed down at him as a hand pulled his own away from its position at his mouth.

“Zuku.” The tone was reproachful, but gentle. A hand carded through his hair and pulled away from him. Izuku silently mourned the loss of contact. The hands came back. He watched distantly as the large fingers deftly applied antiseptic to his bitten fingers and wove bandages around the digits. Soft lips kissed the knuckles of his hand. Izuku leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Katsuki’s. The blonde’s eyes slipped closed as he leaned slightly forward, tapping his nose slightly against Izuku’s own. The taller boy pulled away with a mischievous grin on his face. Without a warning, Izuku felt himself being scooped up into the blonde’s arm as the other fussed with the blankets on Izuku’s bed. He was dropped unceremoniously onto the mattress, the muscled arm of his supernova guiding the blankets over his shoulders. Katsuki perched on the side of his bed.

“Get some rest, nerd.” As Katsuki made to leave, a scarred hand darted and captured the larger one. Izuku looked at their hands for a moment, then up to Katsuki’s face. He desperately hoped that the question that he couldn’t yet verbalize made it to the blonde. Said blonde smirked, less heat in his gaze than would normally be there.

“Oh. Do you want me to stay?” Izuku nodded, flushing slightly. Katsuki smiled and held up one finger before pulling away once more. He returned with his laptop before sliding into the bed next to the smaller boy. Turning sideways so that he was facing Izuku, he nestled the piece of technology between their joined knees and opened a streaming service. “You choose, nerd.”

Izuku bit his lip, contemplating the decision. After a few moments of hesitation, he reached out and selected an astronomy documentary, one that he would watch on particularly bad days. It was always a soothing balm against his frayed nerves and frayed skin. Both boys had watched the documentary more times than they could count. Katsuki rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then pulled Izuku close to his chest as the documentary began playing. Izuku curled up, nuzzling into Katsuki’s neck and planting a small kiss against his pulse before sinking into the pillow behind him. The last vestiges of his anxiety simmered away under the watchful fire of Izuku’s personal star. As Katsuki’s strong arm encircled his waist, Izuku felt assured.

Kacchan would keep his bad habits away, at least for the night.

Needless to say that isn’t exactly what happened. Katsuki’s eyes fluttered shut as the documentary played, soft and even breathing pushing against the forest of hair in front of his eyes. Izuku, though, stayed wide awake. Izuku, seeing Katsuki falling asleep, reached over and removed his hearing aids, placing them on the nightstand behind the other boy. Izuku paused, stroking Katsuki’s cheek gently so as not to wake the blonde. Although Katsuki’s presence acted as a balm to Izuku’s wounds, he couldn’t make himself peaceful enough to follow the blonde into sleep.

Izuku was a closet insomniac. His mind would often follow seemingly random tangents, keeping the boy awake and unable to soothe the hum of existence against his skin. Most nights he would just give into the buzz thrumming under his skin and research or watch movies until the small hours before dawn.

With Kacchan resting against him, Izuku couldn’t do any of his tried-and-true sleep techniques - namely, exercising until he passed out or making some coffee and resigning himself to a state of perpetual exhaustion for the next 20 hours. He burrowed more deeply into Kacchan’s embrace and silently willed himself to go to sleep, steadfastly ignoring his racing and spiralling thoughts. Eventually, he sighed and glanced over to the screen resting haphazardly on their laps. The bright numbers of the computer’s clock mocked Izuku, pulsing with his annoyance at his body. He couldn’t understand why his brain refused to just turn off. He was bone-dead exhausted, this morning’s training intermingling with the state of mind he was left in after his attack. This unholy cocktail would lay up a lesser man for at least twelve hours, but not Izuku Midoriya. No, Izuku was in that special state where, as relaxed and safe as he felt, he couldn’t drift off. Huffing to himself in annoyance, Izuku pulled the computer closer to him and pulled up another movie.

This one was a pre-Quirk movie near and dear to his heart. He watched the small viking on the screen reach a hand out to a scaly snout, vulnerability and trust laid bare to a creature that could tear him limb from limb with little more than a flick of his talons. Distantly, Izuku found himself seeing a bit of Kacchan in the scaled being on the screen. Fire enhancements aside, Kacchan was one that didn’t trust easily, but gave you his loyalty wholeheartedly and without hesitation. If Izuku dazedly planned on getting Kacchan some form of clothing resembling the winged creature, well, no one had to know.

The next morning felt more like a dream than reality. Izuku blamed it on the lack of sleep that he had gotten. Izuku greeted the dawn reluctantly, having not quite said his goodbyes to the darkness. The green-haired boy shifted. Katsuki’s arm was thrown around his waist still, but the blonde’s other hand had shifted to act as a pillow for Izuku’s head. His mouth hung open slightly, a small line of drool dripping from his lip. Izuku thought that Katsuki had never been more beautiful. He lay in the warm embrace, content to just be around the other boy, soaking up the heat and affection that he exuded even in sleep. Blonde eyelashes fluttered as Katsuki woke up. Crimson eyes blearily gazed at Izuku, slowly gaining more awareness with each second.

“Good morning, Kacchan.” Izuku whispered, his voice low. Katsuki blinked at him, then frowned.

“Zuku, did you sleep at all?” Izuku, not wanting to out his insomnia to the blonde, just shrugged. A calloused hand reached out and caressed his cheek. “Baby, you need to sleep.” Izuku flushed at the same time Katsuki did, both processing the blonde’s words. Katsuki groaned, pressing his head into the pillow behind him. “Did I really just say that?” Izuku grinned.

“I don’t know, Kacchan. Did you mean it?” The blonde flushed even more, mumbling something that Izuku couldn’t quite catch. “Cause I would really like it if you meant it, Kacchan.” Katsuki’s head whipped up, shocked red eyes locking on his own.

“Do you mean that? Like you’re not just saying that to fuck with me.” Izuku frowned.

“Kacchan, why wouldn’t I mean it? I’ve kind of been in love with you since I knew what love was.” Katsuki froze, before his face crumpled. “Kacchan?! What’s wrong?” Instead of answering, Katsuki buried his face in Izuku’s chest in an uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Eventually, Izuku coaxed Katsuki out of where his face was pressed against his chest and cradled his face in scarred hands.

“Kami, Zuku. I don’t fucking deserve you. Not after all the shit I put you through. You deserve someone better, like IcyHot.” Izuku frowned.

“Now you listen to me Katsuki Bakugo.” Red eyes widened in shock at the use of his full name. “You don’t get to tell me what I do and don’t deserve. And I’ve forgiven you for all of that.”

“Zuku, I didn’t even fucking give you so much as an ‘I’m sorry’! And I told you to jump off a fucking roof!”

“I know Kacchan. And that did hurt. But I also know you. To you, words aren’t half as important as actions. And your actions have shown me time and time again that you’ve changed. You’re not the cocky middle schooler who had people bowing over left and right and not telling you right from wrong. You’ve grown, and I’m so fucking proud of you.” Izuku pressed their foreheads together, feeling strong arms wind around him. “I mean, if anything I don’t deserve you.” Katsuki looked sharply at him. He opened his mouth to refute Izuku’s claim, but a bandaged finger pressed against his lips. “Kacchan, you’re the person that I trust most in the world. I mean, you sacrificed your time with your friends to help me with my dumb brain bullshit.” Katsuki opened his mouth again, but Izuku beat him to it. “I love you, Kacchan.”

Crimson eyes softened as a hand reached up to cradle his face. “I love you so fucking much, Zuku.” He hesitated, unsure. “Can I...can I kiss you?” Izuku nodded, smiling. Katsuki’s warm lips met his own.

Izuku had read about kisses in novels growing up. They had all talked about fireworks and exciting metaphors. Izuku felt none of those things, but thought that he rather preferred the real thing. Instead of fireworks, a warm feeling bloomed in his chest and ignited his heart. He laughed against Katsuki’s lips. Katsuki looked at him questioningly.

“First kiss jitters, sorry.” Katsuki barked a laugh.

“Bet I can make those go away.” Katsuki kissed him again, then wound his arms around Izuku’s shoulders and held him. Katsuki idly stroked Izuku’s hair as Izuku pressed into the blonde’s shoulder. After a while, Izuku began to squirm in Katsuki’s grasp.

“As much as I love you, Kacchan, I need to pee.” Katsuki snorted.

“Way to ruin the moment, nerd.” He let the smaller boy go all the same. Izuku rolled over the blonde and stood up, before immediately regretting his decision. The room swam in front of his eyes, and a faint ringing noise began. He collapsed back down, accidentally sitting on Katsuki’s lap. Strong hands rested on his hips, steadying him as he tried to get his breathing under control.

“I’m okay,” he gasped, feeling a warm chest at his back as Katsuki sat up to check on him.

“Uh huh. And I’m not emotionally constipated. Head between your knees, nerd.” A large hand settled on his back, guiding him down. After a few moments, Izuku tapped Katsuki’s wrist, signalling that he was okay to sit back up. Katsuki looked at him in concern, but didn’t pry, for which Izuku was infinitely grateful. He would rather not have to explain his ‘habits’ to the other boy. Katsuki just rubbed his back comfortingly. He nodded at Katsuki in thanks and stood up again, more slowly this time. He shuffled into the bathroom connected to his room and quickly relieved himself before brushing his teeth. He walked back out to see Katsuki looking down at his hands.

“Kacchan?” The blonde looked up at him and smiled before standing up.

“I’m gonna go get changed. I’ll meet you downstairs?” Izuku nodded. Katsuki smiled before pulling Izuku in for another kiss. Izuku waved goodbye as Katsuki left to go to his own dorm and went to finish getting ready for the day.

Chapter Text

Katsuki stood in the elevator, idly tapping his lips with a finger. In spite of himself, he grinned. He had kissed Izuku Midoriya. He had - albeit accidentally - handed his heart to the smaller boy, who had held it as if it was a precious and fragile thing, and given his own in return. The elevator doors opened as Katsuki exited the elevator before running face first into someone. Katsuki growled, before seeing Kirishima’s visage materialize before him. He deflated slightly.

“Hey, Bakubro! Where were you last night? We missed you at dinner.” Katsuki groaned, mentally cursing himself. He had been so caught up in his night with Izuku that he had completely forgotten of his resolve to feed the smaller boy.

“I was with Deku, Shitty Hair.” Kirishima’s broad grin deflated, his eyes softening at the mention of the green-haired boy.

“How’s he doing?” Katsuki gestured with his head for Kirishima to follow him to his dorm. Katsuki walked with his hands in his pockets, trying to organize his thoughts into something more coherent than I’m in love. Kirishima let him, seeing the blonde’s contemplative stare.

“He’s better than yesterday. Nerd could finally talk this morning. I caught him chewing his fingers to shreds last night, though.” Kirishima nodded, then took another look at Katsuki’s face. The blonde had a subtle flush to his cheeks. No way, Kirishima thought, no wAY OH MY GOD. Before he could interrogate the explosive boy next to him, their walk was interrupted.

“Hey Kacchan!” called Kaminari, deftly dodging the blast aimed his way, “Walk of shame?” The boy cackled before sprinting away, eager to avoid Katsuki’s wrath. Kirishima snorted next to him. Katsuki huffed. After a few moments passed, Kirishima spoke through the grin threatening to split his face in two.

“Sooooooo, you and Mido?” Katsuki glared at him, the flush on his face growing slightly. “Oh my Kami, I knew it. You two totally got together! Aah! My ship has sailed!” Kirishima, not hearing a contradictory answer to his question, started dancing a little as they arrived at Katsuki’s door. Katsuki’s hand swatted the back of Kirishima’s head with no real heat as he unlocked the door to his dorm. Kirishima followed after him. As soon as the door had closed behind him, Kirishima went into full investigation mode. “Tell me everything. Did you yell? Did Mido cry? What am I saying of course he did. Did you guys just talk? Why were you in his room all night? I don’t need to be expecting any grandchildren any time soon, do I?” Katsuki stared, before breaking down into a fit of laughter. Kirishima pouted, partially at the blonde’s reaction to his question and partially because he was getting laughed at. Katsuki’s laughter died down.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Hair-for-Brains. We just talked. I didn’t want to leave him alone, so we watched movies until I fell asleep. I woke up, we talked, and then we kissed.” Katsuki’s face softened to a degree that Kirishima didn’t think possible. “It was...it was nice.” Katsuki smiled down at his hands, idly rubbing his knuckles. Kirishima guessed that the hand in question had been thoroughly cuddled by Midoriya. Katsuki’s face fell slightly.

“Shitty Hair, I don’t think Deku is okay.”

“What?”

“He, he got up this morning and almost fucking fainted. I could feel his ribs. He’s freezing all the time and had a panic attack in the middle of the day. He’s picking his damn fingers again so much that they bleed. I’m worried about him.” Kirishima hesitated, before facing Bakugo, his hands clenched at his sides.

“Bakubro, I need to ask this because Mido is my friend too and I care about him. Are you taking advantage of him because he’s not doing well?” Katsuki snarled and shoved the redhead away. Kirishima hardened his skin, ready for an attack that didn’t come. Bakugo stood in front of him, hands popping in anger. He roared.

“You think I could fucking do that to him? No. Nothing like that at all, Shitty Hair. I’ve loved him for a long fucking time.” Bakugo paused, his hands falling to his sides. “I just didn’t know how to fucking deal with it, so I lashed out. Some shitty part of me figured that if I pushed him away, I wouldn’t have to keep feeling this way about him.” Katsuki huffed. “I can’t believe you think I could do something like that to anyone, least of all Deku.”

“Bakubro, that’s not what I meant. I know that you’re a manly guy, Bakubro, and I know that you’d never do anything like that. It just seems kind of sudden, especially after Midoriya had such a shitty day yesterday. I don’t want him, or you, to get hurt.” Katsuki deflated, nodding. He slumped down onto the bed, Kirishima quickly following his descent. “It was kind of an accident, actually.” Kirishima glanced at the blonde, silently urging him to explain. Katsuki stared at his hands.

“I woke up and the nerd was watching me. He looked so fucking soft and gentle and I called him ‘baby’ by accident.” And if that wasn’t enough to make Kirishima’s heart melt, he didn’t know what would. Katsuki Bakugo actually admitting to having soft and mushy feelings? He must be in another dimension.

“Awwwwww, Bakubro!” Kirishima squished his face with his hands, fighting the urge to pull the blonde into a hug. Katsuki scoffed and held his arms out. Kirishima jumped at the chance, actually pulling Bakugo up and swinging him around the room.

“CHRIST SHITTY HAIR,” Bakugo yelled, “If I knew that you would fucking do this I would never have offered!” Kirishima laughed. He set Bakugo down, the other boy pushing him away with much less venom than even a minute ago.

“Seriously, Bakubro. I’m proud of you. I know that you and Midoriya will be good for each other.” Kirishima smirked. “I hope you know that this means a shovel talk is imminent.” Katsuki glared. Clearing his throat and doing his best (read: not terribly good) impression of All Might, he leaned into Bakugo’s face.

“Now, young Bakugo, what are your intentions with my son?” Katsuki snorted and shoved Kirishima’s face away from him.

“Get out Shitty Hair, I need to change. I told Zuku that I’d meet him downstairs.” Kirishima nodded.

“I can go wait with him.” Katsuki nodded his thanks, and Kirishima took his leave. He walked towards the elevator, leaning against the wall as it began its descent. The elevator door opened two floors down and Midoriya entered, clutching a pair of large headphones to his chest.

“Hey Midobro!” Kirishima waved, grinning when the green-haired boy waved back.

“Morning Kiri!” Midoriya walked over to Kirishima, leaning against the same wall. He locked eyes with the redhead.

“I wanted to thank you for helping me yesterday.” Smiling slightly, he added, “It was totally manly.” Kirishima grinned, flushing slightly. He rubbed the back of his head.

“Of course, Mido. You’re my friend. And someone who abandons another in their time of need shouldn’t be considered a friend at all. It’s totally not manly.” Izuku laughed and leaned his head on Kirishima’s shoulder. The redhead plopped the side of his face on top of the mop of green curls. He wrapped his arm around Izuku’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Like I said, Midobro, you’re my friend. And when you’re hurt it hurts me too. I just want you to be okay.” Izuku was silent against him, and Eijiro feared that he had overstepped. Then, he felt a small hand slip into his own.

“Thank you, Kiri. That means a lot to me. I promise I’ll be okay.” Kirishima grinned, his eyes watering slightly. The smaller boy bumped his head against Kirishima’s chest and pulled away as the elevator door opened. The two exited, then stepped to the side to wait for Bakugo to come down.

“What are the headphones for, Mido, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Oh, sometimes after I have freak-outs like the one yesterday, I’m kind of sensitive to noise and textures for a few days after. I brought these as a barrier just in case.” Kirishima nodded.

“Let me know if those idiots get to be too much. I can distract ‘em and you can go canoodle with your man.” Izuku flushed bright red at Kirishima’s words, stuttering out a half-formed response and eventually just covering his face with his hands. Kirishima laughed at the boy’s flustered reaction.

“How did you find out?” He mumbled.

“Bakubro was being oddly nice this morning and I deduced accordingly. Don’t worry, though. I’m sworn to secrecy until you too are ready to tell everyone else.” Izuku gazed at him through the cage of his hands.

“Thanks, Kiri.” Kirishima winked at him, then stretched his arms over his head. He leaned back and was rewarded with a series of resounding cracks. Izuku stared at him.

“Dude. You need a chiropractor or something.” Kirishima snorted.

“Think we’ll get a group discount if we bring you too? I think any chiropractor would have a field day with how crackly your joints can be.”

“As much as I dream of being cracked like a glow stick,” Kirishima snorted again, “There is a little problem of me not having money.” Izuku shook his hands in a jazzy motion as he said this, his voice lilting as he made his joke.

“Oh, mood.”

Izuku laughed, a bright sound that reminded Kirishima of bells. He smiled and bumped Izuku’s sweatshirt-clad shoulder. A voice broke out behind them through the freshly opened doors of the elevator.

“You flirting with my boyfriend, Shitty Hair?” It was Katsuki, grinning at the sight of them. Izuku flushed and smiled.

“Oh definitely, Bakubro.” Kirishima quipped with a frown from Katsuki, “I’m seducing the green bean here to run away with me and become chiropractic test dummies.” Kirishima winked over at Izuku, who and nodded solemnly before breaking and giggling. Izuku’s laughter was infectious, soon the two taller boys were laughing along. Katsuki sighed and slung his arms around narrow shoulders, pressing his lips into a freckled cheek. Izuku hummed slightly, bringing one hand up to pet softly at the other boy’s cheek. They froze and broke apart as Kirishima made an inhuman noise of delight, bringing his hands to cover his mouth in excitement.

“What the fuck, Shitty hair?” Katsuki growled.

Kirishima blanched, then bowed. “I’m so sorry! That was so unmanly of me. You too are just so cute together, and I can tell that you love each other very much.” Kirishima straightened up. “I’m happy for you two. You be good to each other.” Izuku smiled at Kirishima while Katsuki scoffed and turned his head away, fighting a grin of his own. Kirishima suddenly had a revelation.

“Bakubro,” Katsuki looked him in the eyes, somehow sensing the imminent mischief, “I hate to do this to you so soon but desperate times call for desperate kidnappings.” With that, Kirishima lunged and wrapped Izuku in his arms, tearing towards the common room with Bakugo hot on his heels. Izuku reacted about as well as could be expected. He squeaked and wrapped his arms around Kirishima’s neck, hanging on for dear life.

Kirishima whispered into Izuku’s ear. “You’re safe - I’m just playing a prank on Bakugo for not telling you his feelings sooner. I’m hiding you. If it gets to be too much or you’re not comfortable, let me know and I’ll stop.” Izuku stared at him wide eyed, then smiled and nodded.

Kirishima whooped as he crossed the threshold of the common room, yelling to Kaminari and Uraraka that “Plan HIFB is in effect.” The two scrambled up and sprinted towards the doors, slamming them in Katsuki’s face. The blonde yelled curses through the door and bangs echoed throughout the room.

Still ensconced in Kirishima’s hold, Izuku turned his head to see two wide grins bearing down on him. Ochako and Denki looked down on him as if Christmas had come early. He cowered a little under their gazes, his eyes flitting between the two. As if summoned by Izuku’s unease, Todoroki strode across the room and, grabbing the two by the arms, pulled them behind him.

“Are you okay, Midoriya?” He asked. Izuku nodded. Todoroki and Kirishima glanced at each other, a silent exchange passing between the two. Suddenly, Todoroki’s face split into a shit-eating grin. It was a very odd expression to see on someone usually so stoic. “It would really piss Bakugo off if I was the one to hide him.” Izuku groaned internally. Honestly, was the whole class in on this? Kirishima nodded his head solemnly.

“I’ll come to your funeral, Todobro.”

“I’ll make sure you have front row seats. Make sure they bury me with two middle fingers up.” Kirishima barked a laugh. Izuku felt one warm and one cold arm envelop him as Izuku was passed from Kirishima to Todoroki. Todoroki strode out of the room into the stairwell, precious charge in hand. After a few moments of silence, Todoroki spoke.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, Midoriya. We were worried about you, but I realize now that barging in on you and invading your space wasn’t a good idea. I hope that you’ll forgive me.” Todoroki placed Izuku on one of the steps and sat down next to him. “We all care deeply for you. I do, too. You are my first friend and quite possibly the best one of all. I want you to be happy.” Izuku smiled softly and butted his head against Todoroki’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Todoroki. And you can call me Izuku, if you want.” The stoic boy’s eyes widened in shock, then softened in fondness.

“Then I request that you call me Shoto.” Izuku nodded, smiling. An explosion sounded out, muffled by the closed stairwell door. Shoto huffed a laugh. “I wonder how much property damage is going to happen. Care to place a bet?” Izuku snorted.

“I don’t think that bet would be fair to you or Kacchan.”

“Fair enough.” The two friends sat in contended silence as the sounds of the rest of Class 1-A’s havoc filtered in through the closed door. “If he does anything untowards to you, or if he ever breaks your heart. Let me know.” Izuku looked at him in confusion. “I am adept at burying bodies where they won’t be found.” Izuku stared, then burst out into a fit of giggles. Todoroki looked on in astonishment, before being swept up in Izuku’s laughter.

“Sho- Shotooo! Why are you so funny!” Izuku gasped out between fits of giggles.

“It’s the deadpan and the unexpected timing.”

“You’re gonna be a force to be reckoned with in the realm of dad-jokes.”

“I am aware.”

“But I’m sure your services won’t be needed.”

“I know. Bakugo cares tremendously for you. Even so, say the word and I will be there. The Hand Crusher will ride again.” Izuku burst out into laughter, so much so that he wheezed every so often, trying to get air back into his lungs. Todoroki smiled at him. The stairwell door banged open.

“Say goodbye to your fucking kneecaps, IcyHot!” Bakugo roared, before stopping. His attack position softened as he gazed at the sight of Izuku laughing so hard that he couldn’t breathe. He smiled softly, then shot a glare at Todoroki’s knowing smirk. Todoroki stood up, brushing invisible dirt off of his pants.

“I’ll be leaving now, with my kneecaps to boot.” Walking towards Katsuki, the dual quirk wielder placed his hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “Congratulations, Bakugo. I’m happy for you.” Todoroki walked back into the common room, Izuku noticeably absent from his grip.

Seeing the expectant stares, he promptly turned around and walked back to the stairwell. Bakugo was sitting down next to Izuku, their hands intertwined. Both looked up, surprised.

“Please save me from social interaction.” Bakugo snorted, before standing up himself.

“Can you cook? Like at all?” Todoroki frowned.

“Does soba count?” Katsuki groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like can none of these fuckers do basic self-care? Katsuki looked back up at Todoroki.

“Okay, you bastard, time for a kitchen crash course. Zuku let’s go.” Izuku stood up rather slowly.

Todoroki noticed Bakugo watching the movement carefully, as if he expected Midoriya to collapse. Todoroki frowned, resolving to ask one Bakugo about his behavior. He then schooled his features into their normal passive state. The trio made their way to the kitchen, somehow avoiding the common room’s buzz. 

As soon as they had entered the kitchen, Bakugo swept Izuku up into his arms and dropped him unceremoniously onto the counter. Izuku spluttered. 

“You can’t cook for shit, dumbass. You just stay there and look cute.” Izuku reddened and buried his face in his hands. “Take a seat, IcyHot. It’s too goddamn early to show you how to actually do shit, so you’re watching for now.” Todoroki nodded before sinking into one of the chairs in the kitchen. Todoroki watched as Bakugo bustled around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients and deftly preparing them. Izuku swung his legs back and forth, idly playing with his fingers as he watched the blonde work. Occasionally, Bakugo would reach out and grasp Izuku’s bandaged hand - and how did Todoroki not notice the bandages before now - or place a small kiss on Izuku’s cheek or forehead. Todoroki watched the scene in contentedness, more than happy to just sit and see his best friend relax and enjoy himself. All too soon, Bakugo had completed his mission. Todoroki stood up and commented.

“You must really be starving, Bakugo.” The two other in the kitchen looked at him, before bursting into laughter. Todoroki frowned. “What’s so funny?” 

“IcyHot I’m cooking for the entire class.” 

“Oh. That actually makes a lot more sense.”

Bakugo snorted before picking up one of the serving dishes. He gestured for Todoroki to grab some and help him before smacking Izuku’s hand away from helping. Izuku frowned and Bakugo stuck out his tongue at the green-haired boy. The two boys carried the dishes over to the table, making a few trips before Bakugo stuck his head into the common room and whistled to get everyone’s attention. 

“Food’s ready you incompetent assholes.” A resounding cheer came from the other students. “Let’s go before we get caught up in the riot.” 

Moving hastily, they went back to the kitchen and passed the threshold just as a wave of people - namely Kaminari, Mina, Sero, and Uraraka - crashed through the open doors. Izuku had headphones on and was tapping gently on the counter while swaying slightly. He looked up at the two as they entered the kitchen. 

Bakugo signed something at Izuku - Todoroki was at just the wrong angle to catch his words - and the small boy nodded, before pointing towards the sustenance massacre happening outside before grimacing. Bakugo gave him a small nod before turning to Todoroki, teeth bared. 

“If you give him shit for wearing the headphones, I’ll make sure they never find your body.” Todoroki frowned, confused.

“Why would I do that? He’s obviously uncomfortable with the noise and is doing something to make it better for him.” Bakugo deflated and nodded.

“Good answer, Oat Milk Creamer.” Walking away from a perplexed Todoroki, Bakugo strode towards Izuku before picking him up and gently lowering him into the chair. 

“Kacchan if you wanted me to move you could have just said so.” 

“Nah, I like my way better.” Bakugo pulled out three bowls from the cupboard and began preparing the food that he had just made. He handed two to Todoroki before scooping Izuku up with one arm and walking towards the common room.

Izuku huffed in indignation. “Kacchan you do realize that I am, in fact, capable of walking.” 

“I know, nerd.” The trio sat down, Bakugo quickly settling Izuku on his lap and wrapping his arm around a slim waist to prevent the other boy from escaping. It was such a domestic scene that Todoroki felt bad for interrupting. 

“We forgot utensils. I’ll go get some.” Bakugo nodded his assent. “Do you need anything, Midoriya.”

“Is there coffee?” Todoroki opened his mouth but Bakugo began to speak.

“Food first, Zuku, then coffee.” Izuku pouted and stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend. a todoroki his his snort by turning around and walking back to the kitchen. He returned shortly, handing two pairs of chopsticks over to Bakugo before settling down with his own. The trio began to eat, one moving much slower than the others. As Todoroki and Bakugo finished their meal, Izuku had only ate about half of his food, which Todoroki had noticed was less densely packed with food than the other two bowls. Izuku grimaced and set his bowl down before flopping against Bakugo’s chest. He put his chin on Bakugo’s chest and looked him in the eye.

“Coffee.” Bakugo rolled his eyes. 

“So demanding, nerd. But I can’t do anything with you here.” Izuku began to protest before Todoroki cut him off.

“I’ll get it for you, Midoriya. Black with ice, right?” Izuku smiled and nodded before tucking his head into Bakugo’s neck. The blonde flushed slightly and looked over at Todoroki. “What about you, Bakugo.” 

“I’ll get some in a minute. Can you put his in a travel mug?” Todoroki nodded and walked towards the kitchen. 

Todoroki had noticed that Izuku had a very specific few cups, bowls, and plates that he used. He would only drink out of three cups, all travel mugs. Bakugo had put Izuku’s food in one of the only two bowls that the green-haired boy would use. Although he had never said anything about it, Todoroki had noticed that Izuku grew visibly upset and anxious when people used his specific tableware, so the class made it a point to leave those alone. 

Leaving with two coffees in hand, he returned to his dining companions, silently handing Izuku his coffee. Izuku chirped his thanks and laid his head back on Bakugo’s shoulder. Bakugo nodded at him, face softening at the quiet sigh of contentment that came from the smaller boy. 

The door to the common room suddenly burst open, revealing Mina and Hagakure. The two sidled forward, stopping in front of the couple. Quick as lightning, Mina ripped Izuku from Bakugo’s grasp and tore away. Bakugo jumped up and began running after the pair, laughs and snarls intermingling. Todoroki sighed and sipped at his coffee. 

The two girls sprinted down the hall, their charge bouncing slightly from the steps. Hagakure slammed the door behind them and began creating a barricade from the chairs in the room that they were hidden in. Mina laughed at the scratching coming from the other side of the door, doing nothing to help Hagakure’s efforts.

“If you want him you’ll have to take him from my cold dead hands, Bakugo!” Mina yelled, shifting Izuku in her embrace. She looked down and winked at him. The door banged open as Bakugo broke through Hagakure’s barricade. Mina danced around the room, deftly avoiding Bakugo’s ire. 

“Why is everyone so intent on picking me up?!” Izuku sighed in exasperation. Mina, who was currently holding the boy and evading a feral Kacchan, replied.

“You’re just so cuddly, Midobabe. And after yesterday, we all decided you need extra love.” Izuku smiled at her, silently contemplating what she had meant. Did the rest of the class pity him? We’re they annoyed by his presence? Did they only care if they were to somehow benefit? Izuku shook his head and realized that he was no longer in Mina’s arms. Instead, he floated above the ground, just out of Katsuki’s reach. Ochaco danced around the blonde, grinning maniacally. Izuku smiled down at his friend’s antics and closed his eyes as he drifted. He opened them as he felt a large hand close around his wrist. He looked down. Iida stood under him, clutching his wrist. 

“Alright there, Midoriya?” Iida called. Izuku nodded as he felt Iida pull him towards the ground. Iida grinned at him. “The others talked me into doing this by saying it was a training exercise. I apologize for you being dragged into this.” Izuku smiled.

“It’s fine, Iida. I’m actually kind of surprised that our classmates care enough about me to do something like this, even in good fun.” Iida’s brow furrowed, and he moved to say something, but Izuku was suddenly swept away by a long string of sticky tape wrapping around his waist and pulling him towards Sero and Kaminari. The two boys whooped and started running, Izuku being weightlessly dragged along. Izuku was speechless for a moment, then began cackling at the situation. The two boys on the ground joined in. 

Laughter and screaming intermingled in the air around Heights Alliance as the game of Izuku-Keep-Away continued. All Might, who had been about to enter the dorm, smiled at his student’s antics and the distinctive laughter of his successor before he turned and walked back towards the teachers dorms. It’s been much too long since I’ve heard him laugh like that, All Might thought. 

Chapter Text

The rest of the weekend passed in a similar fashion. Izuku and Katsuki melded together seamlessly, existing in each other’s space as if it was a fated love of the cosmos. Class 1-A, of course, teased the two endlessly. At every wink or suggestive smirk, Izuku flushed and Katsuki huffed his annoyance. The teens had all decided to train together, throwing good-natured insults and punches and arms wrapped around shoulders in equal measure. Throughout it all, Katsuki acted as a beacon for Izuku, a warm pyre to rest his chilled hands at or an impenetrable wall against the onslaught of overwhelming sensation. As night fell, the students bade their goodbyes to each other and parted. Uraraka and Iida walked Izuku back to his dorm, citing the preservation of Izuku’s honor against the wily seductiveness of Katsuki’s embrace as their reason. Todoroki, hearing this, had simply snorted and walked off.

The trio bade goodnight to each other, and Izuku fell bonelessly against his mattress after shucking his pants off in favor of sleeping in his boxers. He pulled out his phone, opening the messaging app.

Bone Hurtin’ Juice: Goodnight, Kacchan （‐＾▽＾‐）

Ground Zero: zuku. Babe. love of my life. why the fuck are you like this?

Bone Hurtin’ Juice: (.﹒︣︿﹒︣.)

Ground Zero: jfc

Ground Zero: get some sleep nerd

Izuku smiled into his hands and pulled his phone into the charger. Tonight is going to be a good night, Izuku thought, I’m going to sleep and feel great tomorrow morning.

As you’d expect, the opposite happened.

Izuku’s mind spiralled and spiralled throughout the night until the boy pulled himself out of bed and flopped to his floor, doing sit-up after sit-up in an effort to tire himself out. Thirty minutes passed, and green hair splayed across a worn carpet as Izuku lay in the middle of his room, smothering gasps behind his hand as he tried to catch his breath. His abdomen ached and burned from the abuse, and thin arms shook with exertion as bandaged fingers clawed the bedframe in an effort to pull a shaking body into bed. Trembling arms gave out, and Izuku’s back thudded against the floor.

He curled up, shivering. Pale lids slid closed over green eyes, the escape of sleep finally overtaking the exhausted boy. In the end, he had only slept about four hours.

Izuku jerked awake as a rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins. He tried to push himself up, but tired arms gave out under the weight and he collapsed back to the floor. A strained heart beat rabbit-quick as Izuku panicked. Small, pained sounds streamed out of his lips, the bitten and worried skin breaking with the movement. A trembling hand reached up and grasped the corner of his phone, pulling it towards the ground. It clattered as it fell before thumping softly against the carpet and waking the screen. 3:03 shone out and Izuku groaned in frustration. He panted, soft puffs of breath disturbing the fabric of the carpet. A small whine escaped his throat. He was scared - his body was betraying him and there was no one that he could call to help. Tears of frustration dripped down hollowed cheeks as Izuku fought for breath.

All of a sudden, the door creaked. Izuku shook as he turned his head, his vision blurry. A dark mass hung in front of him, golden beams of light shining in the half-light of the hallway. Izuku’s breaths came faster. Was Kurogiri here? He couldn’t fight, not like this. Still he tried to push himself up, desperate to protect his classmates. He fell back down and the figure descended. Expecting pain, Izuku flinched and closed his eyes, waiting for the killing blow. Instead, a shadowy claw carded through his curls and rolled him onto his back. The piercing gold shone on him and Izuku squinted, his eyes not used to the light.

“D-dark Shadow?” Izuku questioned, his body subconsciously relaxing. “Why are you here?”

“I was sitting by the light Bunny gave me and I heard a thud. Bunny’s heart sounded weird - bad and strained. I was worried about Bunny.” Izuku tilted his head, confused. Who was Bunny?

“Bunny didn’t eat yesterday after breakfast. I’m worried about Bunny.” Izuku closed his eyes, mouth unable to form a response. “I will help Bunny.”

Izuku felt himself suddenly enclosed in Dark Shadow’s claws. Wind buffetted Izuku’s frail frame as Dark Shadow carried him. He closed his eyes to block out the light of the hallway. The movement stopped and Izuku felt himself being lowered onto something soft. Dark Shadow’s presence faded and returned after a few minutes. Viridian eyes opened once more and Izuku saw the familiar sights of the common room. Dark Shadow hovered in front of him, a cup enclosed carefully in his talons.

“For Bunny.” Izuku reached shaky hands out to grasp the offered cup, but Dark Shadow had other ideas. The being held the small cup up to Izuku’s face, two talons delicately placing a bendy straw up to his chapped lips. “Drink, Bunny.”

Izuku complied, tasting the sweetness of lemon iced tea. After a few sips, Dark Shadow pulled the cup away and placed it on the arm of the couch that Izuku was flopped bonelessly on. Dark Shadow curled onto Izuku’s lap, nuzzling slightly into Izuku’s concave stomach.

“Bunny’s heart sounds bad. I’m worried about Bunny. Fumi is too. He told me that terrible darkness is dimming the rays of the sun and he can’t do anything to keep the darkness at bay.” Izuku stilled under the shadowy being, before placing a small hand on the creature.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Shadow. I’m trying to do better, I promise. It’s just...hard.” Izuku sighed softly and began stroking the creature fondly.

“I will help Bunny. Bunny is kind to me and to Fumi. We will protect Bunny from the darkness.” Izuku laughed softly and thanked the shadowy mass.

Talons grasped the cup and brought it up to Izuku’s lips again. Izuku sipped at the liquid and decidedly ignored the torturous part of his mind that berated him for indulging in such a sugary mess. Once Izuku had drained the cup, Dark Shadow placed it on the floor and curled back around Izuku’s stomach. Izuku began his ministrations on Dark Shadow’s crown once more and the pair sat in silence for a while.

Soon pale light filtered through the large windows as the dawn made its entrance, throwing the world into a soft and contemplative state. Izuku made no move to dislodge the creature on his lap, instead sinking deeper into the cushions in peace.

Tokoyami awoke to his alarm clock only to find Dark Shadow missing. Highly annoyed at the prospect of his familiar off causing mischief, he found his house slippers and began to follow their connection, mentally preparing a lecture on decorum. Upon finding Dark Shadow, Tokoyami stopped in his tracks. His shadowy companion was curled up around Midoriya, softly purring. The gothic boy deflated at the sight, his ire fleeing as he saw the two. Midoriya, hearing his footsteps, looked back at him.

“Hey, Tokoyami!” He greeted softly. Fumikage smiled and waved back, jumping over the back of the couch so as not to catch the frail boy in the arc of shadow that connected familiar to master. He turned to the shadowy mass.

“Have you and Midoriya been revelling in the night’s embrace?” Dark Shadow peeked their head, gazing at his companion.

“Bunny’s heart sounded bad. I brought him here.” Tokoyami’s brow furrowed.

“Are you alright, Midoriya?” The green-haired boy flushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I think I overdid it yesterday. Dark Shadow helped me out.” Tokoyami nodded, brow still furrowed. He silently vowed to both inform Bakugo of the proceedings and wrangle more concrete information out of his shadowy companion. The trio sat in silence for a short while, before Tokoyami stood up.

“I will return shortly, Midoriya. The pleasant thrill of your company will find its shadowy revelry increased with our consumption of what mortals like us require.” Izuku blinked, highly confused at his words, but guessed that Tokoyami wanted something from the kitchen and shrugged slightly as the boy walked off. Dark Shadow, nuzzling his beak-like face against Izuku’s hair, joined his companion in the kitchen.

Tokoyami busied himself with preparing the coffee maker, clicking the start button and leaning back against the counter. Dark Shadow hovered in front of him, head tilted.

“What troubles you, my friend?” Tokoyami asked, although he feared he knew the answer. Dark Shadow had spoken of little else the past few days.

“Bunny.”

“Midoriya’s physical state concerns me as well. I fear the darkness in his world aims to taint his light. We must unite to protect him against the darkness of his mind.” Dark Shadow nodded before moving towards the refrigerator.

Long talons grasped the handle of a jug that Fumikage recognized as the iced tea that Midoriya loved. He rarely drank the stuff, Tokoyami now suspecting that the calorific nature of the drink causing fear for the boy, but he knew that Yaoyorozu and Todoroki stocked up on it on the off chance that Midoriya would drink it. Still, Fumikage held up a hand.

“Dark Shadow, would it not be more prudent to give Midoriya something more substantial?” Dark Shadow shook his head.

“Bunny need something, and drinking might be easier than eating. Bunny likes this tea, and it’s sweet like him. Maybe this will make Bunny smile again.” Tokoyami nodded his assent, hiding a sad smile at Dark Shadow’s thoughts. He turned as the coffee maker signalled the end of its cycle, pouring dark liquid into two cups, one filled with ice.

The pair moved back towards the common room. Dark Shadow surged forward and pressed the cup that he had filled with iced tea to Midoriya’s lips.

“Dark Shadow!” Tokoyami admonished, embarrassed at his familiar’s tenacity. Dark Shadow scowled at him.

“Bunny couldn’t hold the cup earlier. I’m helping.” Tokoyami frowned. Midoriya flushed and pulled away from Dark Shadow.

“It’s alright, Shadow. I can hold it now.” He held a hand out and Dark Shadow complied, hesitating before handing the cup over. Midoriya smiled shakily at Dark Shadow and, at the grumpy expression on the creature’s face, lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip of the liquid. Dark Shadow, appeased, curled back into Midoriya’s lap. The slight tremor of the green-haired boy’s arms didn’t escape Tokoyami’s notice, but the fact that Midoriya was drinking something with caloric content abated his worries slightly.

Flushing slightly at Dark Shadow’s gall, he set down the mug of coffee that he had prepared for Midoriya on the table before taking his seat next to the smaller boy. The two sat in silence as they slowly drained their cups. Midoriya let his arms fall across Dark Shadow’s back softly. Tokoyami quickly plucked the empty cup from his hands and replaced it with the coffee. Midoriya smiled gratefully.

As the morning light grew the sounds of the dorm coming to life filtered into the quiet common room. Tokoyami left to help Sato prepare breakfast for the class, Dark Shadow huffing as he followed his companion. Izuku sat on the couch, shivering slightly, before feeling a light weight being thrown over his shoulders. He looked up and saw Yaoyorozu standing over him, the hem of the blanket just exiting her stomach area. She smiled sheepishly.

“Good morning, Midoriya. I hope you don’t mind - you looked a little cold.”

“Thank you, Yaomomo. I really appreciate it. But you didn’t have to use your quirk on me. I know it drains your stores to produce something this big.” Yaoyorozu didn’t reply, instead opting to tuck the blanket more securely around Izuku’s shoulders. She smiled before planting a small kiss on his forehead and taking the now empty cup out of his hands and walking towards the kitchen.

Izuku smiled, abashed at the display of affection from his classmate, and burrowed into the incredibly comfortable blanket that he had made. The sounds of the rambunctious class filled the common room and Izuku relaxed into the cushions at the familiar noise. Katsuki descended the stairs and hopped over the back of the couch, seeing the sprawl of green against the pale blue of the blanket. Izuku blinked at him sleepily before his face broke out into a soft smile.

“Good morning, Kacchan.” Katsuki grinned and pulled Izuku into his lap, making sure to pull the blanket so that it covered Izuku’s back more thoroughly after the shift. Izuku immediately butted his head into Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Morning, Zuku. Sleep well?” Izuku shrugged. Katsuki frowned. “Did something happen? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?” Izuku giggled and shook his head.

“Just a rough night. But Dark Shadow hung out with me for a bit and brought me some iced tea.” Katsuki snaked his hand to Izuku’s waist and pressed his forehead into Izuku’s curls.

“You can always come get me if you have a rough night, Zuku.”

“I know, Kacchan. But you need your sleep. I can’t just come bother you whenever I can’t sleep. I need to learn to deal with it myself.” Katsuki frowned once more, a retort on his lips, when Sato’s call of “breakfast!” sounded through the common room.

“We’ll talk about that later, Zuku. But you need to eat. I know you didn’t eat shit after breakfast yesterday, so don’t argue with me.” Izuku smiled and nodded.

“Today’s going to be good, Kacchan. I promise you I’m going to try my best.” Katsuki smiled as Izuku slid off his lap, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders as a cape. They walked to the kitchen to grab their food, arms linked.

And so the day came to an end in much the same way that the day before had. Izuku kept his promise to Katsuki and ate as much as he could, the blonde encouraging each extra bite with a grin or a well-placed hand. Izuku felt that he could ignore his traitorous mind with the support he had been shown. Today had been a good day, and the green-haired boy felt that it would last.

Too bad that every good thing must come to an end.

Chapter Text

Monday came all too soon for the students of Class 1-A. Begrudgingly slapping alarms off and rubbing the sleep from their eyes, twenty teenagers shuffled through the doors of Heights Alliance and made their way to the main campus. Some left to get food while others chatted with their friends and fellow classmates, leaning over desks or slumping against walls. Two students walked hand-in-hand, a large and warm hand rubbing the knuckles of a scarred and freezing one. The two had quickly settled into an easy rhythm, content to just be in the other’s presence.

Physical affection came all too naturally to Katsuki, despite his harsh exterior. The Bakugos were naturally tactile people, whether it be through a hand batting another’s head or a comforting arm placed around tensed shoulders. Izuku, however, was still learning to be comfortable with casual touch. For years, it had been ingrained into him that any touch not from his mother was one that promised pain and suffering. Katsuki knew all too well that he had played a major role in that, and began a sort of exposure therapy for the smaller boy. Katuski latched on to his sunshine, still half in awe that he could call that light, that darling star, his.

The two parted only when they reached the classroom, joining back together between classes and at lunch. The entire class had foregone their usual groups, instead opting to push a few tables together and sit nineteen strong. Mineta was not there, which was to be expected. They assumed that he was doing something untowards and welcomed the respite from his particular brand of lechery. It was an incredibly jovial scene, laughter coming easily as arms overlapped and food was shared more than stolen.

Izuku, for his part, tried. He had made a promise to himself that today would be a good day - he would eat and enjoy the company of his friends. Reassuring squeezes on his hand from the blonde sitting next to him encouraged Izuku to push himself to eat a little more. Still, the period ended with little more than half the meager portion of food gone. Izuku grimaced, feeling both disappointed in himself and sick satisfaction at what he hadn’t done. Green eyes stared at gnarled hands clenched into shaking fists before a warm arm pressed around his shoulders. Brilliant crimson gazed into cool emerald.

“Good job, Zuku.” Izuku smiled, inwardly preening at the praise directed towards him. Katsuki kissed his twisted knuckles. Mina squealed at the sight as Kirishima danced in his seat. Katsuki glared at the interlopers into their moment. Neither showed any hint of remorse.

After lunch, the class made their way to the gym at the prompting of their instructor, sparring with each other. The mood in the room was still incredibly high and excited. Izuku laughed as he dodged one of Shoji’s many fists and activated Full Cowling as he retaliated. A squeal of pain erupted across the room as Mineta got his ass handed to him by a vengeful Hagakure. All seemed to be right with the world.

But all good things must come to an end.

Katsuki pulled Izuku aside in the changing rooms. He held Izuku’s gnarled hand delicately, as if it was some precious gem rather than a mangled old thing.

“Zuku,” Katsuki began, “I need to meet with Present Mic about the English essay. I’ll see you back at the dorms.” Izuku kissed Katsuki’s cheek.

“Okay, Kacchan. Don’t have too much fun.” Izuku smirked at Katsuki’s good-natured groan before exiting the lockers. The training session had been invigorating, and Izuku felt more alive than he had in quite a while. Izuku entered the stairway and began climbing, eager to get back to the dorms for a well-deserved break.

Halfway up the stairs he stopped, bringing a hand to his chest. He felt the all too familiar wool settle over his ears and heard a dull ringing noise before his body felt simultaneously like it was on fire and shivering with cold. Fuck, he thought. Desperately, he flailed his arm out for the handrail of the stairs, belatedly feeling the throbbing pain of his hand missing and his knuckles banging on the rail instead. He listed from side to side, slowly trying to breathe and push the feeling of his melting insides down long enough for him to find a safe place to pass out.

Unfortunately, luck was not on Izuku’s side, it seems. Before he could do much more than slightly bend his knees, he saw the edges of his vision fade into white. The whiteout quickly overtook his vision and he felt his body pitching forward as he began his tumble down the stairs. Izuku felt each step dig into his back and his ribs, one checking painfully against his overly sensitive hipbone. Lost in the whiteout, Izuku could only pray that he was near the bottom of the flight of stairs. He felt his side smack into a longer hardness, and sighed as he realized that his tumble was over. The fire in his insides flickered up to his lungs, and his chest heaved as he desperately tried to take in oxygen. His inhalations were not helped by the fact that he was laying facedown on the landing.

Izuku groaned, trying to focus on getting any semblance of air into his lungs. His heart beat rapidfire, the shock of the fall combining with the drop in blood pressure resulting in adrenaline racing through Izuku’s veins. He gasped weakly and tried to push himself up onto his elbows, then into a sitting position. He slumped against the railing behind his back and tried to get his breathing under control. Slowly, the whiteout faded from his vision, and he was left shaking and weak at the bottom of the stairs. Glancing down at himself, he didn’t see any injuries. Good, he thought, I can’t risk a visit to Recovery Girl. She’d find out as soon as she looked at me.

Izuku made the decision to stay where he was for a few minutes to try to regain his ability to walk. To his surprise and horror, he heard the sound of a stairwell door opening above him, then the telltale footsteps of two people coming down towards him. Judging by the lighter footfalls, Izuku decided that it was two students. While he was scared of being found out, he knew that if he was found by a teacher, he would be in deep shit. Izuku tried to haul himself up using the handrail behind him, but felt his legs quake with the effort of standing up. Whiteness appeared at the edges of his vision, and Izuku desperately tried to control his breathing. He felt himself list to the side, and would have fallen back onto the concrete of the landing had a pair of arms not encircled his waist and held him up.

Blearily, Izuku tried to focus on the face of his savior - and quite possibly his doom. Golden eyes stared back at him, crinkling in concern. Izuku felt himself being lowered onto the floor until he was in the seated position that he had just tried to escape from. A stupid idea really, what had he been planning to do? Stand there until they passed? Or perhaps walk away with them and possibly fall down another set of stairs?

A hand snapped in front of his face. The eyes materialized into the worried face of Kaminari, with Sero standing behind him, handsome face crinkled with concern. “Hey Midoriya! You back with us?” Kaminari said, smiling slightly to try to put the smaller boy’s nerves at ease. Izuku nodded, not fully feeling able to speak. He panted slightly, and raised a shaking arm in a thumbs up to try to placate the two standing in front of them.

“Mido,” Sero began, “Dude are you sure you’re feeling okay? It looks like you just fainted.” Izuku waved his hand in a nonchalant manner, and bent over his knees as a wave of nausea hit. Kaminari and Sero looked at each other. The two boys were pretty friendly with Izuku, and had only seen him unable to speak right after Bakugo’s kidnapping. Kaminari turned back to Izuku, who seemed to be regaining control of his erratic breathing.

“Do you need to go to Recovery Girl?” Kaminari questioned. At this, the two boys saw Izuku’s face flood with panic and he quickly shook his head while waving his arms. His breathing picked up, and Kaminari placed his hand on Izuku’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Mido, we won’t take you.” Sero looked affronted at this, but the effect of Izuku was almost instantaneous. He sagged in relief against the railing behind him. Kaminari gestured to Izuku’s crumpled form with a desperate measure. He looked back at the boy in front of him. “Like I said, We won’t take you to Recovery Girl… on one condition. Well, two really.” Izuku looked up at Kaminari, apprehensive. Kaminari continued, “Condition 1: we take you back to your dorm so you can get some rest. And TWO-“ he interrupted Izuku’s protest, “You let us make you some food.” Izuku’s face morphed into one of agitation, then fear, then pain,’and then begrudging acceptance. That’s concerning, Thought Sero. Izuku nodded, gritting his teeth, feeling tears come unbidden to his eyes. He cursed his propensity for waterworks at any heightened emotion. Kaminari gave him a searching look, then enveloped the frail boy before him in a tight hug.

“Mido,” Kaminari began, “I know I can be kind of an idiot sometimes,” Sero scoffed behind him, “Shut up Sero. But you’re hurting. And we don’t know what to do. Please let us help you. We can’t stand to see you get hurt, dude.” Sero let out a watery chuckle behind the hugging boys.

“Yeah, amigo. Yaomomo and Mina are already stockpiling bubble wrap for you in case you try to do something stupid and life-threatening again.” Kaminari smacked his leg and hissed that that wasn’t helping Mido, you dumbass. Izuku, completely overwhelmed by this show of support, began crying in earnest. Sero began stuttering out apologies, waving his arms in obvious panic at being the one to make Midoriya cry. Kaminari held him tighter as Izuku’s chest began heaving with sobs. Another enveloping presence wrapped around the two as Sero joined in the hug, getting swept up in the moment. Izuku clutched onto Kaminari’s blazer like a lifeline, pulling him out of another whiteout and into the real world. He felt a hand placed comfortingly on the back of his neck that began rubbing small circles through his hair.

A few minutes later, Izuku was all cried out and incredibly embarrassed about breaking down in front of his classmates. Kaminari’s hand never left his hair, and he felt Sero reach over and squeeze his shoulders again. He signed sorry at them and the two blanched at the action.

“Why are you sorry, Mido?”

Izuku signed back. Wasted your time, bothered you.

Sero scowled and muttered, “Mido we will definitely be having a conversation about your apparent complete lack of self-worth later, but now I want to get you back to your dorm and into something warm. You’re shivering, dude.” Izuku realized that Sero was right. His breakdown on Kaminari’s shoulder had left him completely weak and quaking in the cold. He smiled, embarrassed at the two boys and made a move to grab the handrail to pull himself up again.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no,” Kaminari said, “You are not walking back, man.” Izuku stared at him, uncomprehendingly.

“Yeah, no, absolutely not,” Sero said, “No walking for you until you don’t look like a breeze could knock you over.” Without a warning, Izuku felt the ground pull away from him as he was lifted into the air. Squeaking in surprise, his hands automatically latched onto the neck of the firm chest that he was being pressed into. He looked up, eyes wide and nervous. Sero’s handsome eyes crinkled as he smiled down at Izuku. “Don’t worry, man. We’ll get you there no sweat.” Izuku’s eyes watered and his mouth trembled as he fought back tears. Sero stared down at him in shock and concern, and looked over to Kaminari, who was equally as lost.

“Ah jeez Mido, I’m sorry dude. Do you not want to be touched right now? I should have asked.” Izuku shook his head and gave Sero a watery smile. It’s fine, he signed, I’m just not used to people being this gentle with me. Kaminari blanched at Izuku’s words, feeling a hot pricking sensation at the corners of his eyes. Not used to people being gentle? Kaminari mouthed at Sero, eyes quickly watering. Sero shrugged slightly and adjusted his grip on Izuku, marvelling at the ease in which he picked up the shorter boy.

Despite Izuku’s smaller stature, his status as the classes resident brick house made him a bit heavier than he looked. Kaminari in the past had made a flippant comment: “Izuku you thiccer than a bowl of oatmeal”, at the time gaining a bright laugh from the shorter boy. And Izuku really deserved that title - he was all compact and roping muscle. But Kaminari suddenly wondered if that had been the wrong thing to say. Izuku seemed so tiny in Sero’s arms, and seeing the speed at which Sero hoisted him up, he surmised that Izuku had dropped more than a few pounds. It worried Kaminari. Not knowing what to do, he decided to do what he did best: delegate the decision making to Bakugo. Denki opened the messaging app on his phone and typed a message to the explosive blonde.

Calamari: Hey we found Izuku in the stairwell. He fainted. We’re taking him back to the dorms.

Calamari: are u there god its me margaret

Ground Zero: wtf

Ground Zero: I stg pikachu if you did any dumb shit to the nerd I will kick your ass ten ways to sunday

Calamari: Baku we didn’t do anything! We found him passed out on one of the landings. Sero’s carrying him. dude mido is tiny.

Ground Zero: jfc. I’ll meet you at the dorms. How is he? Is he hurt? Kaminari paused.

Calamari: No visible injuries. But he cant talk right now. Signing to us.

Ground Zero: fuck. okay. dont do anything stupid until you get to the dorms.

Denki snorted and tucked his phone into his pocket. The trio began descending the stairs, Izuku clutched tightly to Sero’s chest. Kaminari could see the minute shiver of Izuku's shoulders as they walked. The hand that clutched the front of Sero's blazer trembled, as if it was taking all of the green-haired boy's energy to hold on. Kaminari would bet that it was. 

Izuku felt his arms trembling as he held onto Sero's jacket. Minute tremors coursed throughout his body as if he had run a marathon instead of going through a normal school day. Sero and Kaminari chatted to each other as they walked, Izuku bouncing slightly in Sero's arms with each step. He heard none of their words, his entire world focused on breathing like he was supposed to. Green eyes fluttered as Izuku fought to remain conscious. His head slumped against Sero's chest as he lost the battle, more or less dead to the world. 

Sero stopped, feeling the boy in his arms slip into unconsciousness, then quickened his pace frantically, Kaminari jogging to keep up. The two boys shared a glance, fear evident in both of their eyes. 

The stately walls of Heights Alliance filled their vision, a small figure wearing holes into the porch. Katsuki glanced up as they approached and rushed to meet them. 

“What the hell happened?” The blonde demanded, deftly wrangling the unconscious boy from Sero’s grasp.

“We found him in the stairwell.” Kaminari twiddled with his hands as he answered. “He was white as a sheet. He nearly passed out but we caught him in time. Bakugo, I’m worried.” Sero nodded as Kaminari spoke.

“Bakugo, he’s tiny. Like, worryingly tiny.” Bakugo gestured with his head for them to follow him. Luckily for the quartet, there were no students in the entryway of Heights Alliance. Katsuki knew that all the attention would likely send Izuku spiralling. He walked towards the elevators, Sero pressing the button before Bakugo could kick it. He nodded his thanks to the taller boy. They entered the elevator in silence and ascended to Bakugo’s floor. Kaminari, at Bakugo’s prompting, unlocked the door. The two boys watched as Bakugo lowered Midoriya onto the bed with a gentleness and caring that they thought impossible from the fiery blonde. He turned to the two interlopers.

“I think that Izuku has some kind of eating issue. He’s been...weird with food ever since we were kids. But it got a lot worse when we were in middle school. He was so fucking tiny then. But I thought he got better, got over it or something. Apparently not.” Bakugo sighed and sank back onto the bed. “I’m scared. I don’t know what to do, how to fucking help him. And I can’t go to Aizawa or All Might. What if they kick him out? Going to UA and being a hero is the only thing he gives a shit about. I can’t take that away from him. But I’m so goddamn scared. I don’t know how to save him.” 

Kaminari and Sero blanched. Seeing Bakugo so vulnerable was terrifying. The blonde hid behind his walls, never giving his friends more than a small peek into his inner machinations. To see Bakugo lay his worries out so plainly for them was astonishing. 

“That fucking bird shadow was spouting some shit about Zuku’s heart sounding ‘bad’ and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m terrified. I’m scared that he’s going to die, and it will be my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault?” Sero questioned, lowering himself into Bakugo’s line of sight. 

“I don’t know how to help him, and my middle school bullshit probably fucked him up enough that he’d rather waste away.” Bakugo laid his head in his hands. Denki lowered himself onto the bed beside him, wrapping his arm around the other boy’s shoulders. None of them said anything for a while, the only noise in the room coming from Katsuki’s quiet stuttering breaths. Sero broke the silence.

“Hombre, you can’t blame yourself. I think Mido would be struggling even if you were bowing at his feet. That’s just his nature. He self-destructs. Why he’s like this isn’t important. What matter is how we help him get better.” Bakugo glanced up, his face still mostly hidden by his hands. His crimson eyes gleamed with unshed tears. 

“Don’t shoulder this by yourself, man,” Denki said, “We’re Mido’s friends too. We all care about him. Let us help you to help him.” Before Bakugo could reply, a small groan emanated from the prone figure on the bed. All three boys rushed to his side. 

To put it frankly, Izuku felt like shit. His heart hammered in his chest, rapidfire thumps pumping out blood. His chest ached, and he felt the beginnings of bruises where he had fallen. A pale hand pressed onto a freckled cheek, weakly rubbing against the fragile skin. Verdant eyes fluttered hazily as Izuku fought the rest of the way to consciousness. His eyes opened fully to see Katsuki, Denki, and Hanta leaning over him, matching expressions of sadness and concern etched across their handsome faces. Izuku flushed.

“Hey guys.” He mumbled weakly. He moved to sit up before feeling a warm hand pressed to his chest. Katsuki smiled at him, eyes shining.

“Hey, Zuku. Feeling better?” Izuku blinked at him, before groaning and hiding his flushed face in his hands.

“I’m so sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to make you worry.” Izuku felt the warm hand move from his chest to card through his curls. Denki let out a choked laugh.

“Mido, we’re always gonna worry about you. Our green bean can’t help but be a trouble magnet.” Sero snorted at Denki’s questionable nickname, but grinned down at Izuku. 

“No sweat, Mido. We’re just glad you’re alright.” Izuku smiled shyly at the tape-wielder. Sero pulled on Kaminari’s arm as he stood up. “Denks and I are headed down to the kitchen. We’ll bring you up some food.” Sero winked as he and Kaminari exited, Kaminari quacking in distain. Katsuki, huffing a laugh at Denki’s quacks, faced Izuku again, his face softening. 

“Hey, ‘Zu.” The hand that had been playing with his hair slid down to cup his cheek. Izuku leaned into the touch, closing his eyes softly. His hands grasped at Katsuki’s large wrist.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan. I way overdid it at training today.” Katsuki sighed.

“It’s okay, Zuku. I know you’re trying. I’m damn proud of you.” Izuku’s eyes watered at Katsuki’s words and Katsuki frowned. “Zuku, baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, Kacchan. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“It’s okay to cry, Zuku. You’ve had a long day. Why don’t you rest a little more before the idiot squad comes back.” Izuku giggled wetly.

“So mean, Kacchan.” Katsuki stuck his tongue out at Izuku before he felt a small hand on his shoulder pull him down towards the bed.

“Oh? Does someone want cuddles?” Katsuki smirked as he shifted on the bed, quickly adjusting their stance so that Izuku’s head was resting against his chest.

Izuku closed his eyes and listened to the inexorable thrum of Katsuki’s heart, beating a comforting rhythm of I’m here. I’m here. I’m here. A stray tear slipped down Izuku’s cheek as he listened to the beat. Katsuki’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. His calloused hand rested against Izuku’s chest, feeling the thrum of Izuku’s heart. It was a slower beat than Katsuki’s own, a weak little thing trying despite all odds. Just like Izuku. His heart beat its slow rhythm against Katsuki’s hand, reassuring the blonde. I am. I am. I am . It sang.

The two fell asleep to the sound of twin hearts beating in tandem. When Sero and Kaminari came back, neither had the heart to wake the two boys. Instead, they left a tray of food on Katsuki's desk, along with a note. Sero smiled at the peaceful expressions on his friends' faces. He knew that whatever tomorrow brought, he would be there in whatever way he could. 

Chapter Text

Izuku felt the familiar race of his heart as he was pulled from sleep. He sighed, before pressing his forehead into Katuski’s broad chest. The taller boy was dead to the world. Katsuki slept pretty heavily for someone constantly on alert. Izuku smiled softly, sadly, down at his sleep-softened face. No need to bother Kacchan with this.

As quietly and smoothly as he could, Izuku untangled Katsuki’s arm from around his waist. He shifted in his sleep, unconsciously feeling the loss of his bedmate. Izuku shakily stood up and patted his pockets, making sure his phone was there. On the off chance that Katsuki woke up, he could call Izuku to find him.

Izuku exited the room quietly, making sure to close the door as softly as he could. Blinking at the harsh light of the hallway, he began to make his way to the stairs. He checked the time on his phone: 12:58 am. Izuku sighed and slipped the device back into his pocket. He climbed staircase after staircase before being faced with the Roof Access door. Izuku came up to the roof often.

Not many people in the dorm even knew that students had access. But Izuku had discovered it one sleepless night early in the year. The quiet of the night lent peace to overactive minds without the threat of unsafe conditions.

He shuffled to the ledge and slumped there, letting the night breeze buffet against his shoulders. He swung his feet slightly in the suspended air under him. Distantly, he wondered what it would be like to fly. Maybe it would feel a lot like falling.

Izuku thought about falling often. Falling in love, falling down, falling in the eyes of his peers and mentors. Falling from the roof. He wondered what would happen if he fell - would anyone notice? Would anyone care? Despite Izuku’s attempts at rationalization, he doubted that would be the case.

All Might could find a better successor, maybe give One For All to Mirio like he had originally intended. He was a shoddy successor at best, always relying on others to solve his problems. His mom might be sad for a bit, but she’d move on. She wouldn’t have to constantly worry about him or worry about debt with one less mouth to feed and clothe and house. Maybe she’d be much better off without him. He doubted that his UA friends would mourn. They lived such amazing lives and must be tired of his constant dragging presence. And Katsuki, his dear Kacchan. He would get to grow, unhindered by Izuku’s problems. He would find someone to love, someone who wasn’t broken and constantly needed care and support. Kacchan would love someone else actually worthy of his time.

The familiar thoughts floated through his mind, ebbing and flowing with the wind. He inched closer to the edge. There wasn’t anything to stop him from falling. But he had One for All. All Might couldn’t pass it anymore. Izuku sighed. Looks like his flight would have to wait a night more.

By tomorrow, this desperation would be gone. That’s what always happened when Izuku felt this way. He’s be so ready - at the ledge, razor poised, pills pressed against his lips - before remembering one thing that he had to do before he could go through with it. Usually it was a menial task - once, it was even to brush his teeth. He’d get distracted, and his escape would fly away until the next time the thoughts got too much. Still he sat on the roof, legs dangling in a sort of morbid promise.

Aizawa was doing his nighttime rounds. Unbeknownst to both his students and to the faculty - barring Nedzu - Aizawa checked on his students each night he didn’t have patrol at around one in the morning. Was it an invasion of their privacy? Probably. Did it reassure Shota that his problem children were alive, uninjured, and accounted for? Yes. So he continued his silent vigil over his students, silently opening their doors and checking to make sure that they were breathing. Sometimes Tokoyami’s familiar, Dark Shadow, joined his crusade.

Tonight, it looked as if the creature was content to curl around its nightlight. A taloned arm waved lazily at him as he checked in. He waved back. He opened the door to his resident Problem Child’s room to find the place deserted, looking as if it hadn’t been touched since this morning. He had noticed Midoriya’s bag in Bakugo’s room - and made a mental note to look into that at some point - but no sign of the boy himself. He sighed in frustration and walked back to Tokoyami’s room. Dark Shadow looked up and Aizawa beckoned him over.

“Have you seen Problem Child?” Dark Shadow shook their head then, pausing, sniffed.

“Bunny’s on the roof.”

Aizawa blanched, then ran towards the stairs after telling Dark Shadow to stay in the room. Aizawa took the stairs two at a time and burst through the Roof Access door. Before he could think, his capture weapon wrapped around Midoriya’s waist and pulled him away from where he was sitting on the ledge. Midoriya squealed at the sudden movement and puffed out a breath when he was slammed into Aizawa’s broad chest.

“Problem Child, what the hell were you thinking?” Aizawa demanded. Aizawa carefully unwound his scarf from the boy and started checking him over for injuries.

“Wha-”, Izuku started, before his face drained of color,” Oh. OH! Oh no Mr. Aizawa it’s not what you think.” His hands waved in front of him in a placating gesture. “I just come up to the roof sometimes when I can’t sleep cause it’s nice and calming and I like how the wind feels. I promise I wasn’t doing anything else!” Aizawa frowned at him, unsure.

“And you were sitting on the ledge because?” Izuku flushed.

“The wind feels the best there. And having my legs over the edge lets me swing them and feel the air better.” Izuku glanced unconsciously to the side. His words seem genuine, but he’s definitely hiding something from me, Aizawa thought. Still, he let the boy go completely.

“Sit down Problem Child,” he instructed, lowering himself onto a lone bench. Midoriya followed suit, legs lowering with the slightest hint of a tremor. Izuku didn’t look up at his teacher, scared of the man’s reaction. He hoped that the Erasure hero believed his words and couldn’t sense the desperation that had plagued him just minutes earlier. Aizawa sighed, his elbows resting on his thighs and his head hanging down.

“Want to tell me why you’re even awake?” Aizawa grumbled.

“Oh, I couldn’t go back to sleep.”

“Why are you lying to me?”

“What?”

“You obviously haven’t been in your room since this morning.” Izuku blanched. Talk about a breach of privacy. “I know, I know. ‘Mr. Aizawa that’s weird and a breach of privacy!’” Izuku snorted at his teacher’s high pitched imitation of him. “But it reassures me that you imbeciles haven’t gotten yourselves killed because god forbid I leave you lot alone for more than an hour.” Izuku looked down, picking at the raw skin of his finger. He had removed the bandages Katsuki had placed on his finger this morning to the blonde’s annoyance.

“I was…..in Kacchan’s room.” Aizawa looked at him but said nothing. “He, Sero, and Kaminari brought me there after school, and I fell asleep.”

“Why did they bring you to Bakugo?” Izuku said nothing, opting instead to stare at his hands. They twitched slightly, and he pulled at them to try to stop the stiffness from overtaking his joints.

He had noticed that his hands would stiffen up in the cold or at the change of the seasons. A larger hand grabbed his own. Aizawa pressed his thumbs down into Izuku’s palm and rubbed the skin, bringing relief against the onslaught of discomfort. They sat in silence for a short while, then Aizawa spoke, his eyes never leaving the scarred hands that he was tending to.

“Does it have anything to do with why you had a panic attack last week?” Mutely, Izuku nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Aizawa hummed, then reached into a pocket and brought out bandages.

“Oh, Mr. Aizawa I-”

“It’ll help your hands. Support and blood flow.” Izuku’s protests died as he nodded again. “I’m not going to pry, Problem Child, because I know that some things you can only share with some people. All I’m going to say is this: As a hero, you’re going to need a support system. Friends, family, partners that you can lean on and gather strength from. I know that Bakugo has become an important person in your support system, and I’m proud of the both of you. But I want you to know that I’m part of your support system too. As your teacher, and most likely as your future colleague, you can trust me to help you when you need me to. Okay?” Izuku nodded, and Aizawa looked up at him. He smirked.

“Tell anyone about this and I’ll expel you, got it?” Izuku snorted and nodded again, hiding his growing tears with a choked laugh. Aizawa stood and ruffled his hair. “Recovery Girl, Present Mic, and I can show you how to wrap your hands if you want. Get some sleep, Problem Child.”

“You too, Mr. Aizawa.” The pro hero muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like Sleep is for people who aren’t teachers, but Izuku decided to ignore that. They both exited the roof, Aizawa heading back to the teacher’s dorms and Izuku to Katsuki’s room. He smiled softly and turned the handle to push the door open.

In his absence, Katsuki had flopped all over the bed. He laid face down, long limbs spilled in every direction. His shirt was hitched up slightly, revealing his lower back. The blonde had his face pressed halfway into the pillow, soft spikes of hair bent against the weight. It was a thoroughly unattractive sight, but it made Izuku’s heart melt with fondness all the same.

He briefly thought about joining Katsuki in bed, but thought better of it as the familiar fingers of insomnia clasped their shaking vice around his mind. He flopped down on Katsuki’s desk chair, before seeing the two foil-wrapped plates left there. Sero and Kaminari, Izuku remembered. He made a mental note to thank the two boys properly for both the food and for their care yesterday.

Both plates had a small label on them with their name, signifying which dish was for which boy. Izuku assumed that that was because Katsuki’s would be outlandishly spicy. Izuku focused on the plate with his name written on it. It was an innocuous sight, but one that filled the green-haired boy with dread all the same.

It seemed to stare him down as he gazed at it, tempting and alluring and terrifying in equal measure.

Slowly and carefully, he peeled back the foil covering his plate. A sandwich sat on the plate. He pushed the desk chair away from the table slightly, careful not to make too much noise. He brought a hand to his mouth, once again gnawing on the abused skin around his nails. 

If he ate, that would mean he was bad, that he was undeserving. That he was weak. If he couldn’t deal with a little hunger, then how would he ever be a hero? His mind lashed out, a memory long buried coming to mind. A deep and masculine voice bearing down on him. 

“All you do is take and take and take, Izuku. How do you expect to become anything if you’re so selfish?” The angered voice was followed by a slap.

He hunched over. If he ate, then he was bad. But if he didn’t, then Kacchan would be sad. His friends would worry. He saw how they watched him, small smiles appearing at each bite that he took. He didn’t want to disappoint them, not after they had spent so much time and energy and worry on him. But he couldn’t deny the guilt that he felt at taking even a single bite. It was a Catch-22. Sighing in frustration, he stood up from the desk chair and began pacing the length of the room, fiddling with his hands. He looked back at the plate. It gazed back at him. 

He crouched down where he was standing, his hands coming up to pull at his hair. The pressure calmed him. His head bobbed slightly back and forth, changing the tension on his scalp. One hand came down and began to tap a rhythmless pattern against freckled skin. He stayed like this, tugging and tapping, until the world seemed sharper, more defined. A sharp breath pushed through his lungs as he steeled himself. He was safe here. No one was going to force him to do something that he didn’t want to do. He wanted this. He wanted to make Kacchan and his friends happy. He wanted them to not have to worry about him. He was going to ignore his brain. 

Izuku sat once more on the desk chair and moved towards the desk. Scarred hands hovered over the sandwich. He peeled back the top layer and his heart hit the floor. 

The sandwich was filled with food that he couldn’t bring himself to eat. Melted cheese, now cooled, congealed over slices of meat and wilted lettuce. A sickeningly thick sauce oozed from every orifice, infecting the bread slices that it sat on. Izuku flinched away as if burned, sliding the desk chair back. He wrung his hands, desperate to get the feeling of touching that terrible omen off. He stood up and almost raced to the bathroom, remembering just in time of his slumbering companion. The faucet sang as he flipped it on and shoved his hands under the cold spray. Tears filled his eyes as he scrubbed and scrubbed at his hands, desperate to get the sensation off. It wouldn’t stop itwouldntstopitwouldntstophecouldstillFEELIT and Izuku began clawing at his hands, his arms, his stomach. The skin on his hands was red and raw from the scrubbing he had done, and thin red lines appeared on his skin where he had scratched. His skin felt itchy and terrible and the room felt like it was closing in. The air was thick and suffocating. He had to get out, get to somewhere safe. His bandaged hands - the ones that Aizawa had so graciously helped and healed - fumbled with the door to Katsuki’s room and - barely remembering not to slam the door - he ran out and down the stairs. He barely saw where he was going, instead bumping into walls as he scratched at his neck and his face, clawing at the fragile skin there. He burst through the door of the stairwell and ran straight into someone. 

A soft whine escaped his lips as he continued to flay his skin open. Warm hands grabbed his shoulders and Izuku flinched. He was crying in earnest now, muttering “get it off, get it off, get it off” as he clawed. A hand grabbed his wrist and Izuku yelped, trying to pull it away. 

“Midoriya?!” A voice came out of the figure grabbing onto him, soft and concerned in the darkness. 

It was Kaminari, a wire dangling from his mouth. 

Chapter Text

Denki couldn’t sleep. Whether the cause was his racing mind or his concern for his green-haired friend, he didn’t know. But after tossing and turning for most of the night, he gave up and made his way down to the common room, idly charging his phone as he walked. He had planned to watch tv in the common room and stim in order to calm his mind enough to sleep. It wasn’t the best plan in the world, but Denki did it all the same. Sometimes a change of scenery helped him pull himself out of his mind.

He didn’t expect any company, not this late at night. So feeling a small body crash into his own was more than a little bit jarring. He stumbled forward and turned, unsure if he needed to get ready to fight. His hands came up and grabbed the shoulders of the person standing in front of him. Besides a sharp flinch and a keening noise, the person in front of him made no indication that they even processed his presence. He squinted in the dim lighting.

It was Izuku. Suddenly, he was grateful beyond measure that he couldn’t sleep.

Izuku looked absolutely terrible. Dark bags puffed around the skin of the green-haired boy’s eyes. Those eyes, usually cheerful and optimistic, looked haunted. They flickered about frantically, not focusing on any one thing. Great streams of tears trailed down freckled cheeks and fell past bitten lips. Lungs wheezed and whined with the effort of breathing. Scarred hands clawed at any inch of skin that they could reach - his face, his neck, his arms. Kaminari recognized sensory overload when he saw it.

He grabbed Izuku’s wrist to try to stop the scratching. He knew that he didn’t like to be touched while in sensory overload himself, but stopping Izuku from hurting himself was more important at the moment. The frail wrist twisted in his grasp as Izuku fought against his hold.

“Midoriya?!” he said, loud enough that the boy could hear him, but quiet enough that he wouldn’t wake his dormmates up. Wild eyes connected with his own. The boy in front of him panted, great heaving gasps. Izuku’s face crumpled.

“Make it stop make it stop make it stop,” he cried over and over, curling into himself. The small boy kneeled, Denki following his path. Denki said nothing, opting instead to gather the smaller boy into his arms and squeeze the life out of him.

The blonde knew that deep pressure always helped him when he was in sensory overload, and he distantly wished for his weighted blanket. But he couldn’t leave Izuku alone like this, so he would have to make do with what he had. He pressed Izuku tighter into his chest, and felt the scrabbling hands slow their frantic pace, eventually settling on wringing themselves in flapping motions. Denki started rocking back and forth, something that he knew was calming after sensory overload. Little by little, Izuku relaxed into Denki’s arms.

“Better, Mido?” Denki asked, still rocking.

“I can still feel it. My skin itches.” Izuku hiccuped as he spoke, his hands flapping against Denki’s back.

“Too much sensation, or just a bad one?”

“Bad one.” Denki nodded.

“Wanna stim to get rid of it?” Izuku’s head came up, a confused expression on his face.

“Stim?” Denki sat back, flummoxed. Did Izuku not know what stimming is?

“Y’know. Stimming. Like hand flapping, rocking, fidgeting.”

“Oh.” Izuku’s voice was small as he said this, his hands ceasing their flapping and instead tapping a pattern on Denki’s back.

“Yeah, man. I do it all the time. Helps me focus and calms me down.” Denki reached into his pocket to grab one of his favorite fidget toys. “Here. Try this out.” Izuku leaned back as he accepted the fidget, manipulating the smooth plastic with his fingers. He held it gently between his fingers, looking afraid, as if he was scared of dropping it. 

“You can be rough with it, Mido. It’s held up through lightning strikes.” Denki laughed as he said this, and Izuku smiled softly, pausing his ministrations to wipe a few stray tears from his eyes. 

Denki loved fidget toys. They helped him concentrate and bleed energy out of his limbs. But he was always reluctant to share this love with his classmates. In the past, he had been mocked for using them. His teachers gave him shit, and his peers weren’t much better. He knew that UA was different, but he was still nervous all the same. But seeing how Izuku focused so intently on the fidget in his hand, shoulders untensing after each pass of his hands around and through the tangle of plastic, Denki knew that he made the right choice. Still, he felt he had to help Izuku, to find the root of the problem.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked. Izuku hesitated, his fingers going still against the fidget in his hand. Then he shrugged, falling sideways so that he was laying on the ground. Denki laid down next to him, his arms folded under his head. Izuku’s hands continued their fidgeting, and green eyes focused on the plastic in his hand. Denki looked up to the ceiling, content on listening. 

“I woke up and tried to eat something. Thank you, by the way, for bringing us food.” Denki shrugged. “But I touched it and it had a bad texture. I guess that just set me off.” Denki nodded again.

“Sero’s the one that made it - I’m not much of a cook. Did you eat it?”

“No, there was cheese on it.” Denki winced. He looked at Izuku. 

“Was that the bad texture?” Izuku nodded, his eyes never leaving the fidget. 

“Man, cheese is the worst.”

“Right?!” 

“I don’t understand how Sero can stand it. It’s so rubbery and gross.”

“Yeah, and when it cools off it feels disgusting.” Denki snorted. Izuku made a fake gagging noise, then dissolved into breathy laughs. Denki began kicking one leg out in front of him, revelling in the feeling. 

“Everyone won’t stop talking about how amazing and addictive cheese is,” Izuku continued, “But I can’t understand why. Like, its gross. But apparently I’m the weird one for not liking it.”

“Dude, same. Mina gives me so much shit for it and I’m like ‘I’m sorry?? Do you see me criticizing YOUR choices?? No?? Stay in your lane.’” Izuku snorted. 

“When we were really little, I would always pick out the cheese on everything and give it to Kacchan. He used to get so annoyed when I did that. He’d be all,” Deku frowned, drawing his face into a Katsuki-esque scowl, “‘Deku, you’re never gonna get a quirk if you don’t eat your damn cheese.’ And I was always like ‘Is quirk development related to cheese consumption? No.’ And he’d roll his eyes at me because god forbid I don’t like a food that he did.” Denki laughed, both at the conversation topic and at Izuku’s impression of the explosive blonde. 

“Man, Fuck cheese!” Denki said, waving his arms around in the air.

“Fuck cheese!” Izuku chorused, brandishing the fidget in his hand. The two dissolved into a pile of snickers. Denki rolled over so that he was facing Izuku. 

“You hungry, dude? I can make us something.” Izuku stared at him, nonplussed.

“If you give me cheese, I will break my arm in protest.” Denki snorted.

“Somehow, I think you’d break your arm, regardless of the threat of cheese. C’mon.” Denki stood up, and offered his hand to Izuku. The smaller boy took his hand with a small smile. Denki threw his arm around Izuku’s shoulders as the two walked to the kitchen. He leaned in.

“Is the itching gone?” He asked. Izuku nodded, smiling.

“It’s never gone away so quickly before. Usually, I have to scratch at myself for hours or run until I puke.” Denki frowned, but decided not to comment. He guessed that Izuku didn’t know much about sensory issues, and perhaps missed out on an important diagnosis. He butted his head against Izuku’s and silently promised to teach Izuku proper techniques to deal with sensory overload and more about safe stimming.

“So, what kind of textures do you hate?” Denki asked, mentally running through a checklist of what the kitchen currently had in stock. 

“Uh,” Izuku began, “It would probably take less time to say the opposite.”

“Mood. Me too, honestly.”

“What kinds do you like, Kaminari?” Denki pondered this for a minute.

“Crunchy, definitely. Soft but not soggy. Dude, soggy cereal can suck my ass.” Izuku snorted. “Liquid with no bits in it.”

“Oh man, you hate bits too? Pulpy orange juice is the devil’s work.” Denki laughed. 

“Whoever said that orange juice would be better with the pulp in it needs to burn. That is a crime against humanity.” Izuku laughed outright, then clamped his hand over his mouth, scared that he had made too much noise. Denki froze, his head tilted up. They listened for a moment to see if they had woken anybody up. They looked at each other, both suppressing laughter. Quietly - Denki exaggerating his walk into a stereotypical cartoon tip toe - they made their way to the kitchen. Denki looked around, and then realized something terrible. He was an awful cook. 

Sheepishly he turned around. Izuku wasn’t looking at him. Instead, he walked to the cabinet and began pulling ingredients out. Izuku looked over his shoulder.

“Kaminari, do you like PBJ sandwiches?” Denki nodded vigorously, then paused.

“Only with creamy peanut butter, though.” Izuku scoffed.

“Who do you think I am? Some monster who would eat crunchy?” As he said this, Izuku gestured wildly with a butter knife and a jar of peanut butter. The sight was absolutely ridiculous, and Denki started laughing. Izuku smiled as he turned around and prepared two sandwiches. He brought them over and handed one to Denki.

“Thanks, man.” They clinked sandwiches and began eating, Izuku hesitating before taking a bite. Denki watched Izuku surreptitiously as he ate. The boy ate slowly, chewing each peace for a while before he moved on to the next bite, hesitating each time. Denki slowed his own bites down, not wanting Izuku to eat on his own. Before long, the two had finished, Izuku sighing slightly. Denki gave him a thumbs up, and Izuku smiled at him. 

“That was...harder than I expected,” Izuku said, looking down. Denki tilted his head.

“Hey man,” Denki began, “It’s good. I’m proud that you finished. Eating can be tricky sometimes. But that’s why we’re here. And that’s why peanut butter and jelly sandwiches exist.” Izuku smiled. 

“Thanks, Kaminari. For everything.”

“It’s no sweat, Mido. And you can call me Denki, if you want. I don’t really talk about stimming with a lot of people. It’s kind of private, and people used to make fun of me for it. But I trust you.” Izuku grinned and butted his head against Denki’s shoulder.

“Call me Izuku, then. And I guess this makes us,” Izuku paused, thinking, “stim buds?” Denki squeaked, then flapped his hands with a large grin on his face.

“Stim buds! I love it!” Izuku wiggled in his seat and tapped on the table, his own excitement palpable. 

“And Izu, call me any time you want to stim with a friend. I still need to introduce you to the heaven that is weighted blankets.” Izuku nodded fervently, his hands twitching. The two boys quieted down. Izuku rocked in his seat a little, and Denki tapped his feet on the floor. They passed a little while longer like this, before Izuku let out a small yawn. Denki smiled softly, then stretched his arms above his head. 

"I think I'm feeling a lot more ready to sleep. What about you, Izuku?" The green-haired boy nodded, then bumped his head against Denki's shoulder again. He held out his hand, gesturing for the taller boy to take the fidget that he had loaned to Izuku. Denki shook his head.

"Keep it, 'Zu. I got plenty." 

"Ah, thank you Kam- Denki." Denki grinned and bumped his head against Izuku's shoulders, leaning down to do so. The boys walked towards the elevator, letting the comfort of silence fill the space around them.

"Thank you, Denki," Izuku said, and the blonde knew that he wasn't just thanking him for the fidget.

"Any time, 'Zu." They smiled at each other and parted ways as the elevator doors opened, Denki going to his room and Izuku going to Katsuki's. With only a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, and a good-natured eyeroll from Izuku, the two waved goodnight to each other and entered their respective doors. 

Denki smiled as he climbed back into bed. He was glad that he was able to do something for his friend, even if that was stimming and eating sandwiches together.

Chapter Text

A week had passed since Izuku and Denki’s impromptu meeting in the common room. Each time the boys passed each other, they’d wave or flap their hands. Katsuki, although he would never admit it on pain of death, thought it was absolutely adorable. And it seemed that Izuku was doing a lot better. Granted, he wasn’t okay, not by a long shot. One good day, one good conversation, doesn’t negate the effects of mental illness and trauma, despite what countless types of media will try to portray. But it does make a difference. Izuku’s support system was growing slowly, each person doing their best to help the boy heal. And he did his best to reciprocate.

Izuku and Denki began studying in the common room, the green haired boy taking extra care to help Denki focus and understand the material better. He and Todoroki would spend time together in companionable science, each content to do their own thing in each other’s space. Izuku and Dark Shadow had become thick as thieves, much to Tokoyami’s embarrassment and chagrin. It was more often than not Izuku could be seen dangling from Dark Shadow’s talons with chiming laughter echoing around the room, or Izuku sitting somewhere with a dark presence curled in his lap.

And with Kacchan, well, Izuku did his best to accept love and give love in return. He spent many hours in the arms of his boyfriend, both intent on giving each other support. When the blonde woke up, plagued by nightmares, Izuku’s door was the first that he came to, the green-haired boy armed with movies and soft words to soothe the terror racing through his veins like ice. When Izuku felt a vice around his throat, warm hands helped loosen its hold. But Izuku was happy, was healing. And he felt that that was enough.

However, as with the will of the world, things must get worse before they get better.

It was an incredibly rare day that the parents of Class 1-A got to see their children. With the implementation of the dorms, their contact with their kids was reserved largely for phone calls and school breaks. This was why Principal Nedzu, in his infinite chaos, decided to hold a Family Day for all students.

He sent the notice out a month in advance, so that working parents who wanted to attend would be able to request the time off. Each parent attending filled out a form and was sent a Visitor’s Pass. Nedzu would rather not deal with the media fallout of accidentally guillotining the parents of his charges. The replies came rolling in, and Nedzu sipped his tea in delight. Oh, how interesting this would be.

Family Day kicked off with a rousing (read: incredibly long-winded and boring) speech from Nedzu and parents were shuttled off to classes. It was an incredibly unusual sight - students sitting in their desks, a parent or group of people to their side in mismatched chairs.

Most students of Class 1-A had two parents attending. Asui’s siblings were present for the day with the permission of Nedzu - who had been thrilled at the prospect of future heroes coming to visit - and Kirishima’s mothers sat chatting with any and everyone.

Two students were accompanied by only one parent: Todoroki and Midoriya. Todoroki had informed Midoriya that his mother wasn’t granted permission to leave the hospital for something “as trivial as a Family Day”, meaning Endeavor had coerced the doctors into not letting her leave. It was quite a sight to see the Flame Hero sitting in the back of the classroom. Aizawa had refused to refer to him by his hero name, calling out “Mr. Todoroki” whenever the Flame Hero’s attention was needed. Each time Aizawa did so, Enji’s face twisted up in a scowl. Aizawa made it a point to do this many times. Aizawa had never liked Endeavor, and if he saw Todoroki’s small grin behind his hands at each of his father’s reactions, well, no one needed to know.

Mrs. Midoriya sat alone next to her son. Today had been Aizawa’s first introduction to where exactly Izuku had gotten his teary disposition. Mother and son had both exploited the infamous Midoriya Crying gene during their reunion. Aizawa had been concerned over them flooding the classroom, but apparently Bakugo’s parents were good friends with the green-haired woman. Mitsuki Bakugo, upon seeing the rising water level, had promptly leaned on Inko’s shoulders and shoved Izuku into Katsuki. As the Bakugos worked damage control - Mitsuki and Katsuki comforting their respective Midoriya and Masaru somehow finding a mop - AIzawa called the class to order.

“Welcome, Parents of Class 1-A,” he drawled. “Principal Nedzu has organized this day for you all for two reasons. One, you can meet with your children’s teachers and discuss any concerns that you have. Two, we want to reassure you both of your student’s education and safety. Both are a top priority at UA.” He was reading from a script that Nedzu had made for each teacher. In Aizawa’s opinion, it was a rather trite summary of the speech that Nedzu had given earlier in the day.

“Now, we do have some business to take care of.” The parents shuffled in their seats. “We want to extend to you an offer to train with your kids for the day. We’re going to be doing basic rescue operations. I’d originally planned to pair families together, but decided against that. Familial bonds can skew a person’s vision of a situation.” He looked pointedly at Endeavor, who glared right back. “Instead, we’re going to have a friendly competition. Parents will be paired with other parents, and students will be paired as usual. You will be competing against each other.” The room broke out in quiet murmurs, excitement and trepidation filling the air.

“For the parents' sake, I’ve taken the liberty of already choosing the teams. You will be paired either according to your quirks or according to prior relationships that you have with other parents in the class.” Originally this hadn’t been part of his plan, but he rather liked his classroom unflooded and - although he had already planned on doing this - wanted to make sure that the Bakugos stayed with the Midoriyas. It was better for everyone’s sanity, and Aizawa internally shuddered to think of Inko Midoriya paired with Enji Todoroki. From what little he knew of the woman, he didn’t think that Endeavor would survive. He had already seen death glares directed from the diminutive woman towards the fiery presence, and didn’t doubt her ability to follow through with that intent. Hell hath no fury like a protective mother figure.

“Students, please change into your gym uniforms. Parents, if you would like to participate, uniforms will be provided for you. Everyone meet down at Gym Gamma.” The room broke out in shuffles and conversations as everyone began the trek down to the gym. Aizawa noticed that Mrs. Midoriya, after her tearful reunion with Izuku, had seemed rather quiet. From the concerned glances of the family in front of them, he assumed that this was unusual for the woman. From what he could surmise, both from student testimonials and his brief meeting with the woman at the start of the year, Inko Midoriya was an incredibly bubbly and cheerful person.

“Mrs. Midoriya, a word.” Izuku froze, then looked at Aizawa. “I wanted to ask you a question about your occupation.” Izuku deflated, sighing softly, and smiled at his mother before exiting the room. Mitsuki Bakugo ushered her husband, son, and honorary nephew out of the room and stood at the door, arms crossed.

“Mrs. Bakugo, I assure you that nothing will happen to Mrs. Midoriya.” Mitsuki huffed.

“I know, Eraserhead. I’m not an idiot. But Inko’s my friend and I’ll be damned before I leave her alone in a room with a man that I know little to nothing about. Call it a woman’s intuition.”

“Mitsuki, it’s fine,” Inko said, smiling at her friend. The Bakugo matriarch rolled her eyes, and Aizawa was struck with how similar the women were to their sons. Inko walked forward and stood in front of Aizawa, Mitsuki Bakugo leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. Despite her diminutive figure, Aizawa felt disconcerted at the sheer presence of the woman.

“You’re a nurse, correct?” Inko nodded, fiddling with her hands. “I think it would be a good idea if you met with Recovery Girl, our school’s healer. From what I understand, you work in trauma. I thought it might be nice for you too to chat?” Aizawa trailed off.

“Oh that sounds like a wonderful idea, Mr. Aizawa,” Inko clapped her hands in excitement. “Izuku’s told me so much about her quirk. It would be an amazing experience to talk with someone so involved in medicine, and to see it from a quirked perspective. Most of my colleagues have some kind of healing quirk, and - in my opinion - rely on it far too much for healing. I’d love to hear her thoughts on it.” Aizawa smiled.

“I’ll show you the way there after the training session.” Inko gave her okay, and Aizawa saw from the corner of his eye Mitsuki Bakugo change from a defensive posture to one more relaxed. Was she concerned that I would hurt her? Aizawa thought. He decided to pack that away for later as the two women exited the classroom, Mitsuki’s sharp tongue interlacing with Inko’s sweet tone.

“Apparently Bakugo calming is a Midoriya trait,” Aizawa said to the empty classroom. He exited.

Mitsuki and Inko walked together down the quiet hallway, the faint outline of their children guiding them towards the gym. Mitsuki smirked and threw an arm around Inko’s shoulder. The shorter woman jumped under the contact, squeaking. Mistuki withdrew her arm in concern.

“Inks? Everything okay?” Inko looked down, fiddling with her hands. Mitsuki sighed. “Inko, I know that look. What’s wrong? And don’t give me that ‘everything’s fine’ bullshit. I know you.” Inko sighed.

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I Mits? It’s nothing, really. I’m probably just overreacting.” Mitsuki stopped and turned to Inko.

“Inks, you know as well as I do that your gut feelings are never wrong. So out with it.”

“I, I got a weird phone call this morning. And a letter with no return address.” Mitsuki frowned. “I thought that it was just a spam caller, but the voice. Oh, that terrible voice. It sounded just like him.” The blonde’s eyes widened.

“What did he say? What did that fucker say? Did he fucking threaten you?” Inko’s eyes widened.

“I don’t know. There was just heavy breathing, and then he said ‘I’ll see you soon, dear’. The letter said the same thing. It put me all out of sorts this morning. I don’t know what it could mean. Is he here? I thought we’d be safe at UA. I just don’t understand.” Inko’s eyes filled with tears and Mitsuki drew her friend into her arms.

“I won’t let that bastard touch you. Izu either. I know Katsuki would be damned before he let that shithead near either one of you.” Mistuki whispered this into Inko’s ear as the smaller woman sobbed. She felt small hands grab onto her shirt and warm wetness spread across her blouse. She had known better than to wear her absolute best today - being Inko’s friend came with a warning label against clothes susceptible to tears - and was glad at this moment that she had remembered to pack tissues.

“C’mon, Inks. Nothing bad’ll happen. Shithead McGee won’t hurt either of you. I promise.” Inko looked up at her friend with a watery smile. “Now take some tissues, you baby. You’ll drown the school at this rate.” Inko huffed a laugh as she accepted the proffered tissue, dabbing at her eyes as the two continued to walk. They quickly met up with Masaru, who had waited for them at the end of the hall.

“The boys went ahead and gave me directions. Let’s all walk together.” The kind-hearted man grinned and pointedly did not mention Inko’s tear-stained face. The trio finished the journey to the gym, separating at the locker rooms.

“Go on inside, Inks. I just need to knock some sense into this man.” Mitsuki waved Inko’s fluttering hands away and ushered her into the changing room. Immediately after the woman was out of sight, she rounded on her husband.

“Inko got some creepy messages this morning. Apparently a phone call which sounded like Hisashi.” Masaru froze, then frowned in consternation before opening his mouth. Mitsuki cut him off before he could speak. “I don’t know if he’s trying to pull anything. I wouldn’t put it past that bastard to start shit. Just keep an eye on the boys, okay? I’ve got Inko.” Masaru nodded.

“Should we tell the boys’ teacher? It might be something that he needs to know.” Mitsuki sighed.

“I don’t know. Let’s wait until after the training exercise thing. Aizawa said that he’s going to take Inko to meet Recovery Girl. We can tell him then.” Masaru nodded, then kissed his wife on the cheek.

“We’ll protect them, Mits.”

“Damn straight.” The couple separated.

Mitsuki entered the changing room and was immediately met with an excited Inko brandishing a gym uniform at her. Mitsuki rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. She followed her friend into the room and began changing. The other mothers made small talk with each other. They seemed quite taken with Inko, and warmed up to Mitsuki rather quickly. The women chatted as they exited the changing room and into the gym.

Already, their children were hard at work warming up. Some, like Katsuki and Izuku, were doing more physical movements to warm their bodies. Yaoyorozu and Sato were stretching and eating in preparation for the upcoming simulation. Uraraka was doing breathing exercises with Asui and Todoroki while the three stretched. Dark Shadow flitted about the groups. It was an oddly touching sight. Mitsuki grinned over at Inko who watched the scene with happy tears in her eyes.

Dark Shadow had latched onto Izuku and was currently cradling him in long talons, rising in the air with a giggle from their charge. Laughter broke out through the group as Tokoyami blushed and began chiding Dark Shadow for his behavior. Mitsuki smiled. It was good to see the kids acting their age.

Aizawa entered the gym and, seeing the sight, sighed in exhaustion.

“Dark Shadow, please put Midoriya down.” Instead of complying, Dark Shadow blew a raspberry and curled tighter around the green-haired boy. Aizawa groaned.

“You know what? Never mind. I’m too tired to deal with this.” The students laughed, and Mitsuki saw Izuku flush from his perch in Dark Shadow’s talons. Masaru, who appeared next to her, hid his laugh behind a hand. The class, sans Izuku, stood to attention in front of Aizawa.

“Welcome to Gym Gamma, everyone,” Aizawa began, before a loud warping noise sounded out from behind them. The students and Aizawa fell into fighting stances, surrounding the parents. Dark Shadow released Izuku, who dropped into position next to Katsuki. The telltale purple discoloration of the air of Kurogiri appeared, before a lone figure walked through the dark mist. The figure cut an impressive silhouette.

He was dressed in a dark suit, complete with an impeccably done tie. Inky dark curls cascaded down a tan forehead. Green eyes so dark that they were almost black gazed in distain at the scene in front of him. A pointed mask, modeled after the snout of a dragon, adorned his face and hid his nose and mouth. He towered over the students, not quite reaching Aizawa’s height, but more than making up for it in the broadness of his chest and muscled power of his arms. His shined dress shoes clacked against the floor of the gym, concrete echoing with each step. 

Inko gasped in terror and grabbed Mitsuki’s bicep, a blonde head turning to look over at her friend. Inko shook where she stood, tears pouring out of her eyes as she stood silently. Inko’s other hand came up to her neck, brushing against what Mitsuki knew was a burn scar. Mitsuki’s head whipped back around to the figure. His cold, dark eyes roamed over the students, looking almost bored, until he saw a shock of green hair and defiant eyes staring him down. His eyes widened. Mitsuki slapped her husband’s bicep. 

“It’s him,” she whispered. Masaru’s eyes widened and he stepped forward, shielding Inko from view. She pulled Inko to her chest, pressing the other’s head into her shoulder. Inko didn’t need to see this, to see the face of the man that had made her and Izuku’s life hell for years. 

Those eyes were still locked on Izuku. The man spoke.

“Now, now. Is this any way to treat a guest? After all, it is Family Day at UA, is it not? I thought I’d come see my son.” The man laughed derisively. “Looks like you’re not a complete waste of space after all, Izuku.” The green haired boy started at those words, his hands trembling. He knew that voice, that terrifying voice. It had haunted his dreams for years, the phantom ache of slapping hands and fiery breath chasing him night after night. Next to him, Katsuki bared his teeth and pushed himself in front of Izuku, trying to block the man’s sight. 

Hisashi Midoriya stepped forward. Endeavor pushed through the crowd. 

“I would recognize you anywhere. You’re Viserion. I put you in prison years ago.” The Flame Hero strode forward in front of the students. Dark eyes narrowed.

“Endeavor, right? Lovely to see you again, but this is a family matter. Step aside.” Hisashi’s mask opened its maw, but nothing came out. Dark eyes locked on glowing red ones. 

“Ah, Eraserhead.” 

“Viserion.” Aizawa’s capture weapon shot out, wrapping around the figure. Hisashi lurched forward, his bulk causing Aizawa to stumble and, despite his best efforts, to blink. Hisashi used the leverage that he had on the capture weapon to slam the hero into the floor and burn him. Quick as lightning, flames erupted from the open mouth of the mask and enveloped the Flame Hero. Students and parents lunged aside, an ice wall forming to protect them. Todoroki stood, his arms out. Ice trailed up his arm. He had to continually summon ice to him as the temperature in the room skyrocketed. 

Katsuki’s arms wrapped around Izuku’s waist as he lunged, pulling the smaller boy behind him. Katsuki was more or less fire-resistant, his quirk allowing him to withstand higher temperatures. Izuku had no such luck. Katsuki shielded Izuku from the initial burst of flames, but as they grew, he lost Izuku in the crowd. Mineta tossed a stray ball into the fray, hoping to somehow help. But his aim was shoddy at best. Instead of landing anywhere near the fight, it fell right into the path of Izuku. He stepped onto the ball and felt his ankle snap as his weight shifted to avoid a stray flame. Burning pain raced up his leg as he tumbled to the ground, trapped in place by the well-intentioned ball. He scrabbled at his ankle frantically, trying to free it from its bonds. All he did was twist it further. Todoroki, seeing Izuku’s prone form, raced to his side before being cut off by a large burst of flame. He looked back. Endeavor lay on the ground, bleeding from a cut on his scalp. Dark eyes glared at him. Todoroki shot a burst of ice at the man who quickly turned it into water. Undeterred, Todoroki kept up his onslaught, unable to send ice to Izuku to free him. Luckily, Katsuki was there. He exploded the ball, releasing its hold on Izuku’s leg. A burst of flame raced over his head, and Katsuki joined the fight. After a moment, Izuku did as well. He ignored the burn of his ankle as he hobbled over, activating Full Cowling. 

The three dodged bursts of flame. Katsuki sailed over Hisashi’s head and sent an explosion straight to the man’s face, temporarily blinding him. The heat did little to deter him - his body was largely flame-resistant as well - but the brightness of the explosion dazed him for a few precious seconds. Todoroki used that time to freeze Izuku’s ankle, hoping to give the limb support until the battle was over. Katsuki snarled. 

“Zuku, get out of here!” The blonde yelled as he fired off an AP Shot. Green lightning flashed before his eyes. Izuku landed a punch directly on Hisashi’s face. The man stumbled back, his mask cracked by the onslaught. As Izuku flew over his head, a vice-like grip wrapped around his broken ankle and pulled. He screamed at the abuse to his damaged limb, the protective coat of ice quickly melting in the heat. Rough hands pulled him towards an angered face before pushing him back slightly. Hisashi’s mouth opened and tongues of flame escaped, wrapping around Izuku’s body. 

Izuku burned. 

His whole world became little more than an ember, a red hell. Heat licked against his skin, his chest taking the brunt of the assault. He could do little more than scream as his world descended into fire. Suddenly, the fire stopped.

Aizawa stood, his hair flaring around him. His capture weapon lay on the floor, burned. 

Izuku collapsed, his chest in agony. He laid on his side, unable to even push himself into a position easier to breathe in. His lungs wouldn’t expand, ash coating the alveoli like oil on the ocean. He felt a cool hand on his forehead and coldness spread around his chest. A set of warm hands pushed against his shoulder gently, urging him to lay on his back. He flinched back and gasped. The hands retreated. He coughed, sludge coming up from its place in his throat. It trickled down his chin and Izuku whined at the feeling. Hazy red and hetochromatic eyes floated in his darkening vision. His heart pounded erratically, rattling the walls of his chest as it fought to keep beating. The eyes faded from his vision as Izuku fell from the realm of consciousness. 

Aizawa stalked forward, seeing Todoroki and Bakugo abandon their fight to tend to their fallen classmate. In the background, he saw the rest of the class ushering the parents to safety. Iida had taken off in search of reinforcements. He stood in front of Hisashi. The man laughed, a broken and deranged sound.

“Useless boy can’t even handle a little fire. I should have drowned him years ago.” A rabid snarl escaped Aizawa’s mouth. He punched Hisashi in the nose. No one hurt his kids. No one. Hisashi grinned up at him as he recovered from the punch. 

“Where’s my useless bitch of a wife? I’ll send them to the afterlife together.” Aizawa stomped his foot on Hisashi’s hand. 

A scream rent the air. It wasn’t from the man in front of him, nor from the two boys cradling an unconscious Izuku. No, this scream, pained and raging, came from the tiny figure of Inko Midoriya. She pushed past a shaking Masaru and batted Mitsuki’s hand away as she stormed forward. 

“You.” She growled, stopping behind Aizawa. The man held his hand up behind him, urging Inko to return to safety. She ignored him and pushed past his hand, winding her skirt up slightly before kicking Hisashi straight across the face. Aizawa stared.

“HOW DARE YOU.” She screamed, her voice breaking, “HOW DARE YOU HURT MY SON.” She began her assault, hands and legs striking and scrabbling at any inch of flesh she could find.

“You monster. After all you did. HOW DARE YOU HURT MY BOY.” Hisashi, taken aback at the woman’s sudden bravery, did nothing to defend himself  against the onslaught of blows.

“HOW COULD YOU. WAS IT NOT ENOUGH THE FIRST TIME YOU NEARLY KILLED HIM? NEARLY KILLED ME?” Her nails raked against his scalp, his arms, his face. He could barely raise his arms to protect the tender flesh. Aizawa could do little except stare fixedly at Hisashi. He dare not let his gaze drop for even a second, not when the small woman was so close to his flaming mouth. He kept his gaze solely on Hisashi. Red eyes burned and he knew that he could stare no longer.

“Mrs. Midoriya, I need you to back up. I can’t hold my quirk any longer.” The woman gave no indication that she heard, continuing her assault. After a moment, she sprang back, shuffling backwards with hands dripping scarlet. Aizawa blinked, silently begging the universe that Hisashi wouldn’t have time to activate his quirk. It seemed as if the universe was finally listening to his pleas. 

He opened his eyes once more to Inko Midoriya holding her hand in front of her, a snarl of fury evident on her usually kind face. With a shriek, the woman activated her quirk. The semblance of a man in front of them screamed in agony as the seat of his pants tugged towards Inko then burst open. A bloody sack of flesh flew across the room, landing in Inko’s hand. Hisashi could do little but scream and writhe in agony as his ex-wife and former victim castrated him. Blood drained from his face and dripped onto the floor from the wound in his pelvis. With a dangerous grin, Inko spoke.

“Now you know how it fucking felt. Night after night. HOW DOES IT FUCKING FEEL, HISASHI?” The man cowering on the ground passed out, likely from blood loss. All of a sudden, Inko’s hand fell, the bloody sack of flesh slapping against the concrete floor. She trembled, before sinking to her knees. Aizawa was at her side in an instant. She waved him off. 

“Make sure my son is safe, Mr. Aizawa.” He glanced over at the trio. 

Bakugo cradled Midoriya to his chest, his normally abrasive nature virtually nonexistent. His hand carded through bloody green curls and he seemed to be whispering to the unconscious boy. Todoroki knelt next to him, hands placed on Midoriya’s burned chest. He assumed that the boy was trying to soothe the burns. He glanced back at where the parents had been standing. The only ones that remained were the Bakugos. Mitsuki and Masaru ran to the five, Masaru kneeling down next to the boys and Mitsuki coming over to Aizawa and Inko. None ran to the prone form of the villain. 

“I’ve got her, Mr. Aizawa,” the blonde woman muttered, before pulling the shocked Inko to her chest. Inko Midoriya began to sob, overwhelmed. Aizawa nodded and stood, intending to secure the unconscious body of Hisashi Midoriya.

The doors to the gym burst open, Iida leading a small army of pro-heroes, Recovery Girl in his arms. Silently, Aizawa pointed to where Midoriya lay, and Iida nodded before carrying the diminutive woman over to the group. Satisfied that his problem child would be receiving proper care, he beckoned Midnight and Hound Dog over to where he stood over Hisashi. He explained the situation, and both nodded, their faces grim. Hound Dog began to administer first aid - even if he was a villain and an abuser, it would look rather bad for the heroes to not help someone injured. If Aizawa saw the two pro-heroes give small vindictive kicks to the prone body before beginning their treatment, well, it wasn’t any of his business. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s world lay in ruins at his feet. The flames of battle had stopped, but the fight went on. Green hair, wreathed in ash and blood, scrunched against his chest as Izuku fought for breath. Each puff of air was a fight, one that the boy was quickly losing. He looked in desperation up at the boy across from him. Todoroki held his left hand out, thin streams of ice wrapping around a burned and tattered chest. Blood leaked in places where the burns cut especially deeply.

Todoroki’s eyes were a storm as he looked back at Katsuki. Both knew that there was nothing that they could really do. Katsuki’s eyes snapped back down to Izuku’s face as the boy took an especially harsh breath, a wet and choking sound. His hand came up to Izuku’s neck, tilting his chin up to free his airway more. His hand slid to the side of the boy’s face, fingers wrapping around the thin neck to support the weight of his head. Katsuki’s other hand slowly carded through green curls, desperate to offer some semblance of comfort.

For the first time in his life, Katsuki cursed his quirk. For all of his life, Katsuki’s quirk had been his identity, his pride and joy. He was explosive and fiery, just like the sweat that would drip from his fingers. A hairpin trigger laid on his emotions. Yes, it had caused problems, and had allowed Katsuki to get sucked into a mindset that put himself on the top and everyone else beneath him, but his quirk was flashy and useful. It made him who he was. Never before had he prayed for a different one, for even a moment.

Until today. He couldn’t soothe the burns on Izuku’s chest, couldn’t heal him or shelter him from the agony. He could barely make a dent in Hisashi’s assault. Even his hands were little comfort to the burned boy - their naturally high temperature would only cause further destruction. The only thing that he could do was hold his boyfriend and pray for someone else to take over, to save his sunshine. Katsuki had never felt more helpless in his life.

A scream of rage and vindication echoed out through the room and Todoroki glanced up in shock and fear, preparing to defend. His hand still lay on his friend’s chest, knowing that this was all that he could do to keep Izuku alive. Katsuki didn’t dare look up, though. He feared that if he took his eyes off of Izuku’s chest, heaving and quivering with the effort of drawing air in, that the boy would stop breathing and he wouldn’t know. He couldn’t take that chance.

Voices raised, one in pain and the other in fury, glanced through his uncomprehending mind. He blocked out any sensation that had to do with anything other than Izuku. The boy needed his attention first and foremost.

Small hands, wrinkled in age but still strong and sure, came into his vision. Numbly, he realized that Recovery Girl had arrived in the arms of Iida. She was quick to send the dark-haired boy away, but said nothing about Katsuki and Shoto’s presence.

She barely registered that they were there, other than the fact that they were soothing the burns and keeping the boy’s airway clear. Numbly, Katuski followed any directions that she gave, lowering Izuku’s head from where it had been on his chest to the ground, keeping the delicate head tilted back to free his airway.

“Todoroki, can you send ice from further away? I need to stabilize him.” Her words were curt and to the point, but neither boy took offense. Izuku was more important, and Recovery Girl’s focus should be solely on him. Todoroki shuffled back, one hand still outstretched and sending small flurries to the burn sites.

Katsuki began to remove his hand, but a pained noise came from the prone form of Izuku. Soft keens and whimpers left his mouth as he unconsciously searched for the gentle touch. His head turned, unable to support the weight on his own, and his labored breathing cut off into choked gasps as his airway closed.

Recovery Girl, who had been in the process of removing his burned uniform top, sighed and beckoned Katsuki over once more.

“Keep him still. I may need to intubate him.” Katsuki nodded and held Izuku’s head once more, one hand keeping his chin tilted back as the other caressed his forehead. The choked gasps evened out once more into the labored breaths, only slightly smaller. A small trickle of blood dripped down Izuku’s chin. A shadow fell on the group and Recovery Girl glanced quickly up.

“Aizawa,” she said, “I need an intubation tray, sterile gloves, a blanket, and an ambu bag. Is Yaoyorozu capable of making it?”

“Yes.” Katsuki didn’t miss the slight tremor in his teacher’s voice.

“Good. Have her make it now and bring it to me as soon as it’s done. I don’t know the extent of the damage, but I’d rather preserve his airway.” Aizawa nodded and ran to the gym doors, returning a few moments later with two sterile-wrapped packages. A smaller presence joined the group. It was Inko.

“I-Izuku?” She asked, hands shaking. Recovery Girl looked up.

“Mrs. Midoriya, I promise that your son is going to be okay, but I need you to stay back while I get him stabilized. I need to intubate him.” Inko nodded and tied her hair up quickly, walking to Izuku’s side opposite of where Recovery Girl knelt. Before the support hero could protest, Inko spoke.

“I’m a trauma nurse. I can help stabilize him while you intubate.” Recovery Girl nodded and produced a set of bandage scissors from her pocket before handing them to Inko.

“Aizawa, I’m going to need a stretcher. We need to move him as soon as he’s intubated. Inko, I’m going to have you bag him while we move.” Both adults nodded and began their respective jobs, Aizawa exiting the gym once more before returning with a stretcher and Inko finishing removing Izuku’s shirt before laying the blanket over her son. At Katsuki and Todoroki’s shocked looks, she smiled softly.

“Burn protocol.” By this time, Recovery Girl had inserted the endotracheal tube into Izuku’s throat and handed the inflated bag to Inko, who immediately began to compress and inflate the bag in a rhythm that resembled breathing. Aizawa, with the help of Todoroki and Katsuki, moved Izuku onto the hovering stretcher before Recovery Girl and Inko ran off, Inko still inflating her son’s lungs with the ambu bag. The trio stood there in silence for a moment, before Aizawa spoke.

“Good job, you two. Midoriya is going to be fine. Let’s get back to the classroom and you to your parents.” Aizawa strode off, likely to herd the group of heroes and parents back to the classroom. Todoroki turned to follow him, but stopped at the sight of Katsuki.

Katsuki stood numbly, staring straight ahead without processing what he was seeing. His hands fell to his side, slight tremors racing up them. Todoroki wasn’t much better. His breath came in uneven bursts, a thin sheen of tears on his eyes. Todoroki slung his arm around Katsuki’s shoulders pulling a startled yelp out of the boy. His arm squeezed the other boy’s shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. Katsuki sighed.

“Thanks, IcyHot.” The two departed from the smoldering remains of the gym, Midnight and Hound Dog the only ones left with Hisashi’s unconscious body.

Katsuki and Shoto walked the halls, the heterochromatic boy quickly dropping his arm from around Katsuki’s shoulders. Neither boy were quite comfortable with each other yet, and prolonged contact - however comforting - wouldn’t be appreciated by either party.

In silent agreement, they bypassed the doorway of the 1-A classroom and ignored the calls of their names coming from within. The pair quickly climbed steps and turned down hallways before arriving in front of the infirmary doors. Katsuki turned his back to the wall and slid down into a sitting position. Shoto soon followed. The boys sat in companionable silence, holding a quiet vigil for the life in the balance just beyond those doors.

Katsuki had no idea how long had passed, but they were soon joined by others. Kirishima and Uraraka arrived, sliding down to sit next to their friends. Soon Iida, Yaoyorozu, and the rest of Class 1-A, sans Mineta, lingered around the hallway. Some groups made light conversation, but everyone was relatively quiet, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace that they had. Everyone’s minds were preoccupied with their precious classmate hidden behind the innocuous door. Soon enough all chatter ceased as the vigil continued. Iida silently passed around food that he had acquired from who knows where.

Eventually, the doors opened, revealing the plump form of Inko Midoriya. Not quite seeing the class in the hallway, she rubbed at her red-stained hands.

She didn’t regret what she had done to Hisashi - Lord knows that the bastard deserved that, if not worse. But her mind roiled with the treatment that she and Recovery Girl had given.

She started as eighteen pairs of eyes locked with hers. Giving a small squeak of fright, she brought her hand to her chest, feeling the pulsation of her heart beat rapidfire against the walls of her chest.

“Why are you all sitting in the hall?” She asked, trying to keep the shock out of her voice, “Shouldn’t you be with your parents?”

Aoyama spoke. “Mademoiselle, we are here to lend our support to our dear ami, Midoriya.” Iida chimed in.

“Mrs. Midoriya, Aizawa sent our parents home after the attack. We were given the option to leave with them, but we couldn’t abandon our friend in a time such as this. He needs our support.” Inko smiled sadly, her eyes crinkling with the gesture.

“Izu will be okay, in time. Recovery Girl can’t heal all of his injuries at once, so we’re keeping him sedated for the time being. But he’ll be okay. Why don’t you all head back to the dorms? I’m going to be staying for the night, in case Recovery Girl needs an extra pair of hands.”

The class began to protest, but stopped when they saw the exhaustion in Inko’s eyes. Iida cleared his throat.

“Let us return to the dormitories. No doubt we will be of no help lazing about here. I propose that we begin preparing for Midoriya’s return.” At that, Mina and Aoyama jumped up.

“Let’s make him a card! And banners!”

“With lots of sparkles! Ones that shine as brightly as he does!”

The two cheered, Uraraka giggling at their antics. Inko sighed in relief as Iida began ushering his classmates towards the dorm, ideas for get-well items bouncing throughout the group. The only one not joining in the festivities, or even walking to the dorms - as Todoroki and Tokoyami were doing, conversing quietly - was Katsuki. He sat where he had first slid down the wall. Inko came and sat beside him, grabbing his large hands with her smaller ones. The two were quiet for a moment.

“Can I see him, Auntie? Please?” His voice quivered and broke on the last word, the hand not clutching Inko’s trembling. “I know he’s probably out, and I’m assuming won’t wake up for a few days, but I can’t just leave him there by himself. He’s defenseless.” Inko looked into the eyes of the boy that she considered family.

“Of course, Katsuki. I was actually going to ask if you would stay with me for a bit. Recovery Girl is going to explain some things more in depth, and I know that you’re going to fight tooth and nail to be by Izuku’s side no matter what.” Katsuki smiled at his honorary aunt, his mouth quivering.

The two stood up, Katsuki quickly offering his hand to Inko to help her up, and entered the infirmary. Katsuki’s eyes quickly shot to Izuku.

Izuku lay in the infirmary bed, completely dead to the world. His burned chest was crossed with bandages laced with cooling and healing creams. His scarred hands lay limply by his sides, connected to IVs and a heart monitor. His leg was casted and propped up with a pulley. Katsuki’s eyes slid to Izuku’s slack face.

The green haired boy had a large tube protruding from his mouth, one that connected to a softly whooshing machine. A slim tube entered his nostril. Izuku’s eyes were held closed with medical tape, and he saw a small All Might bandage placed along Izuku’s temple. He looked so fragile and frail, surrounded by machines and swathed in bandages. Katsuki was almost afraid to approach, as if any small movement would cause Izuku to shatter into a million pieces.

Two chairs were placed next to Izuku’s bed, as if expecting Inko to have returned with a guest. Recovery Girl stood at Izuku’s side, fiddling with wires and IV tubing. Inko beckoned Katsuki over and the two sat in the proffered chairs. Inko quickly reached up to her son’s head and began carding her fingers through soft green curls. Katsuki’s hand latched on to Izuku’s, a calloused thumb brushing softly over scarred and gnarled knuckles.

“Now that both of you are here, I can give you a full rundown of his condition.” Recovery Girl straightened up and moved to her desk chair, wheeling it over. “Izuku is suffering from second and third degree burns over the majority of his chest and upper arms. He also has a broken ankle, which seems to have shifted more than it should be. No doubt the boy continued to fight after breaking it. I’ve intubated him as a precaution. Chest burns are particularly tricky, as they may affect the respiratory system. I’d rather not take any chances, or have him overexert something. I’ve also placed him in a medically-induced coma, just for a few days. Mr. Midoriya’s stamina is almost nonexistent at this point, and I can only do so much healing before it becomes more harm than good. I hope to use my quirk over the next few days and space out the healing intervals to give his body a chance to build up energy. I’ve also introduced a nasogastric tube. This is usually common for coma patients, but I also placed it for another reason.” Recovery Girl sighed and stared the both of them down.

“Izuku is approximately twenty pounds underweight.” Inko flinched and Katsuki looked down, the hand holding Izuku’s trembling slightly. “This is part of the reason that his stamina is so low, and why I have to space out his healing so much. I’m doing some blood tests at the moment to see where his nutrient levels are at, but I’m extremely concerned. Do you know if this is a new development?” Inko sighed.

“Not...not exactly. Izuku’s always been a small child. I thought that it originally had to do with him being quirkless, but I guess that isn’t the case anymore. I know that he has a lot of trouble with food - he can’t eat a lot of foods because of issues that he has with their texture. But I never thought that it was this bad.” Inko’s eyes filled with tears. Recovery Girl looked over to Katsuki.

“I think Izuku has some kind of eating issue...thing,” he started, “I knew that he was small, but I only really noticed kinda recently, after he had a panic attack during lunch one day. All of us have been trying to help him, encouraging him and shit.” Recovery Girl frowned, as did Inko.

“Mr. Bakugo, this is a serious condition. Why did you not see fit to inform your teachers, or his mother.” Katsuki flinched.

“We were scared that Izuku was going to get kicked out. I won’t let that happen to him. Being a hero, going to UA, was his dream for so long. He was terrified that if someone found out about his shit, that they’d expel him without a second thought. We didn’t know what to do, but none of us wanted that to happen to him. He’s going through a hard time, but that doesn’t mean that he deserves to have his dreams crushed.” Katsuki stared at Recovery Girl, silently daring her to say something. Recovery Girl’s eyes softened at the protective flare in Katsuki’s eyes.

“Izuku’s not going to get expelled for having an eating disorder. That’s abelist discrimination at the very least. He’s a caring and compassionate person, and he’s going to be a great hero. But if he doesn’t get the support that he needs,” at Katsuki’s affronted expression, she held up a hand, “and by that I mean professional medical help, he could very easily die. Hell, he could go to sleep and his body could shut down. We want all of our students to succeed, and sometimes success means accepting help from others. Izuku is our student. We want him to be happy and healthy.” Katsuki deflated from his aggressive stance.

Recovery Girl looked at the two sitting by Izuku’s bedside. Inko had her head in one hand, her shoulders shaking slightly. Bakugo looked deflated and worn, as if his body and mind had been put through the wringer. She sighed.

“Both of you get some rest. It won’t do you any good to fret on these troubles now. When Mr. Midoriya wakes up, we’ll have him start attending sessions with Hound Dog. I’m also going to have him do some weight restoration, until he’s out of the danger zone. Izuku is going to be fine.”

Both Katsuki and Inko nodded, but neither of the three gave any indication that they would move. And that was how the trio progressed into the night - Katsuki held his silent vigil as Inko and Recovery Girl moved about the room, chatting occasionally. They discussed the medical field, and became quite fast friends.

Katsuki said nothing, instead running his fingers over the scarred hand that he held. It was so small, dwarfed by his own. Katsuki knew that these hands held strength and unimaginable power. But seeing them so slack and unmoving shot an arrow through his heart. He laid his head on top of that precious hand, warm tracks of tears slipping down his cheeks. He had failed. He couldn’t protect Izuku from the pain. The pain of his quirk, the pain of his father, the pain of his mind. I promise I’ll be stronger for you, Zuku, Katsuki thought, I’ll become strong enough to protect you from everything. Even yourself.

Chapter Text

Izuku floated in between the realms of conscious and unconscious. He drifted, untethered, weightless. He occasionally felt small tugs at his limbs, his chest, his hair, but he ignored it in favor of drifting. Is this what death is like? He wondered, Distantly, he thought of his mission, his connection to One for All. He hadn’t passed it before he died, so the quirk died with him. A small pang of anger and sadness filled his chest, but it disappeared quickly, once more overtaken by the numbing nothingness of his untethered state. 

Shapes began to appear in front of his eyes. Distantly he realized that they were people. They looked quite familiar. A tall and muscled woman with dark hair reached out a gloved hand to him. A white haired man stood behind her, his hand also outstretched. Izuku’s arms slowly inched up to meet theirs. The outstretched hands latched on to his arms, one on each, and the two figures pulled him towards where they were standing. 

It looked like a room on the edge of infinity. A wall and a floor were all that remained, chunks of plaster and dust swirling around in the nothingness around them. There were other figures standing behind the two who had grabbed him. After a moment, he recognized these figures as the vestiges of One for All.

Nana Shimura drew him into a warm embrace. He hadn’t realized it when he was untethered, but he was exhausted and freezing cold, one that penetrates down to the bone and leaves you shaking no matter how many blankets you wear. It was the numbing cold of sickness, of loneliness. Izuku was no stranger to that cold. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t processed the feeling.

Despite being a vestige, the shades of Nana Shimura and Yoichi Shigaraki were warm and comforting. Izuku melted into their embrace, his hands coming up to clutch weakly at Nana’s yellow cape. The shade smiled sadly down at their successor, and turned to the original holder of One for All. A similar expression was on the young man’s face. He reached out and softly pushed back Izuku’s hair, causing the small boy to look up at him.

“Hey, Izuku. Long time, no see.” Izuku blinked at him slowly, reminiscent of the trusting eyes of a cat. Nana Shimura spoke.

“Hey, squirt. How are you?” Izuku shrugged before slumping against her broad chest, his delicate fingers still clutching the fabric of her cape. “You’ve had a hard run of it, haven’t you?” The boy shrugged, his eyes slipping closed. Nana petted his hair. Yoichi brought his hand down from Izuku’s forehead to the back of his neck, rubbing his thumb softly against the skin there. Izuku opened his eyes, blinking softly at the contact. 

“You’re not alone, Izuku. We are here.” Tired green eyes crinkled with the vestige of a smile and Yoichi brought his hand to Izuku’s cheek. The boy pressed into the hand, relishing the comforting touch. The other vestiges approached, each seeking to comfort their successor. To them, Izuku was less of a comrade and more of a son. They cared so much about the ninth holder, and hated to see him hurt. 

For the three days that Izuku was kept sedated, he was surrounded by the vestiges of people long dead. Izuku was finally able to interact with them like he would any other person. Whether this was due to his deep unconscious state or his precarious health, Izuku didn’t know. Nor did he really care. He simply enjoyed his time among the vestiges. They told him stories of their own lives and adventures. Izuku soaked up the knowledge, and the unexpected affection that they all showed to him. Daigoro, in particular, was fond of ruffling Izuku’s hair or bodily picking him up to cart him around or just hug him. Despite his rather intimidating looks, the Black Whip user was, at his heart, a big softie. He basked in the feeling of being loved, of not being alone. 

When he felt a familiar weightlessness descend upon him, he looked up to the vestiges in concern. Nana smiled sadly.

“Looks like our time is up, kiddo. They’re pulling you from sedation.” Izuku nodded before being enveloped in the arms of seven heroes. He floated up, soft light surrounding him before flashing out blindly. Just before the light engulfed him fully, he heard the voice of Yoichi Shigaraki speak. 

“Remember, Izuku. You’re not alone. We are here.” 

The light enveloped Izuku completely and he felt his body become weighted and solid once more. His hand twitched at his side, bumping against a soft and warm object. His eyes fluttered slightly, and he winced at the brief flash of light. He heard a small click, and tried once again. The light was no longer burning. Instead, it filtered through half-shuttered blinds into a darkened room. He silently thanked whoever turned out the lights as he opened his tired eyes. He shut them again, weighed down by exhaustion.

The all too familiar sights of Recovery Girl’s office filled his vision before quickly being overtaken by crimson pinpricks surrounded by pale skin. The eyes, as Izuku now processed, were soft and incredibly sad. Small tears beaded at the corners of usually steely eyes. Izuku blinked, his eyelids still heavy with exhaustion as a warm and calloused hand slid from its place at his side to cup his cheek. A calloused thumb brushed lightly against his lips. The sensory input swirled around before resolving into the face of a blinding quasar.

Katsuki was here. 

The three days that Izuku was unconscious were some of the worst days of Katsuki's life. He would turn around to chat with or kiss his boyfriend only to be met with empty air. He felt naked, exposed, without the comforting presence of the green-haired boy by his side. Katsuki barely spoke for those three days, answering questions in class as quickly as possible before lapsing into sullen silence once more. It wasn't just him, though. 

The whole of Class 1-A was feeling Izuku's absence. Students shuffled in to class with muted greetings, the lively insults and laughs nonexistent in the somber atmosphere. At lunch, the class sat piled together in the hall outside of the infirmary, quiet chatter and plates of food exchanged through the air. It seemed that the whole class was just going through the motions. They completed their coursework and battled efficiently in practical classes, but their moves were clinical and to the point. None of the levity and joy that they felt in heroism touched their souls. 

After classes each day, Katsuki headed straight for the infirmary. Despite Recovery Girl's words, Katsuki felt the insistent need to be around Izuku, to reassure himself that the boy was alive. He would hold the scarred hand in his own and stroke the knuckles. His homework was finished by Izuku's bedside. Sometimes Katsuki would read to him. Other times, he just sat and watched the artificial inflation of Izuku's chest. Recovery Girl would kick him out each day, citing his own needs as important.

"I know you care for him, Bakugo," she would say, "but it does no good to neglect yourself. If you won't do it for your own health, think of how Midoriya would react to seeing you so out of sorts." The thought of those green eyes filling with sadness and concern would always put a slight burst in his step, and he would always curse Recovery Girl for her perception and ability to manipulate him out of his self-loathing. 

Katsuki slept fitfully each night that Izuku was unconscious, images of his burned chest and the noises of his pained whimpers haunting him. He would see Izuku's gentle hands grow slack in his own each time as the boy lost his fight with his injuries. He had seen Izuku perish so often that the sight was burned into his brain. 

One night, when Katsuki couldn't sleep, he walked down to the dorm kitchen to be met with the sight of a silently crying Kaminari, holding two sandwiches. The two boys looked at each other. Katsuki spoke first.

"Dunce Face, what the fuck?" Kaminari sniffled.

"I couldn't sleep and I came down here. Sometimes when Midoriya can't sleep, I'll eat a PBJ sandwich with him. But he's not here. And I'm too stimulated to go to sleep." Katsuki sighed and slumped down into the chair across from Kaminari. 

"I keep turning around to tell him something but he's not there." Kaminari nodded, wiping his wet face with the sleeve of his shirt. "I find myself making him an extra plate and he's not there to eat it." 

"Every time I stim," Katsuki nodded, having found his boyfriend and classmate at one of their stimming sessions, "it makes me feel worse because he's not there and I don't know why! It usually helps, but it just makes me more keyed up." 

"I miss him."

"Me too."

The boys lapsed into silence. After a moment, Kaminari slid the second sandwich over to him. Katsuki stared at it, then at Kaminari. Kaminari stared back at him. Soft footsteps echoed in the common room and the form of Kirishima hovered in the doorway. 

"You guys can't sleep either?" The two blondes nodded, and Kirishima grimaced. He entered the kitchen and sat down on the table. Katsuki made no move to push him off. Kaminari laid his head on Kirishima's thigh, sighing sadly. 

"I don't think I've ever seen Sato bake this much." Katsuki huffed a laugh. Sato was a known stress baker, and Izuku's health had pushed the baker into overdrive. The communal kitchen was overflowing with baked goods. Kaminari stood up from his position and walked over to the cupboard, pulling out sandwich ingredients. He finished and handed Kirishima a finished PBJ sandwich, which the other boy took without comment. 

"Dark Shadow's been going insane. They keep wandering the halls and crying. Even in the middle of the night, they won't attack anything. They just call out for Izuku." Tokoyami stood in the doorway, his arms crossed. He looked down. The form of Dark Shadow slithered in and, after looking around in desperation, whined and flopped down onto Katsuki's lap. To the other boys' surprise, Katsuki made no move to push the creature away or even gave any indication that he was displeased, instead stroking his fingers along the shadowy head. 

Kaminari huffed and stood up again, this time bringing the ingredients to the table. He handed Tokoyami and, after a moment of hesitation, Dark Shadow a sandwich. As if summoned, the rest of Class 1-A trickled in, Kaminari making sandwiches left and right. By some unspoken agreement, no one started eating until everyone had received one, Todoroki being the last in. 

Kaminari raised his sandwich as if in a toast at a wedding.

"To Izuku, cause he fucking deserves the love of a PBJ sandwich." Quiet agreement filtered throughout the room as everyone began eating, some toasting with their own sandwich. 

It became a nightly ritual. Everyone would come down and get a PBJ sandwich, eating it in honor of the green haired boy. The entire class ended up staying in the common room each night, the unspoken need for comfort heavy in the air. 

On the third day of Izuku's unconscious state, Recovery Girl stopped him as he was leaving. 

"We're taking him off the sedation tonight. He might wake up tomorrow. Just wanted to let you know." She smiled softly as the door closed on Katsuki, his eyes widening at the news. The next day was Sunday, which meant no classes. As the night's cuddle pile began, Katsuki smiled slightly and set an alarm on his phone. 

The morning came and Katsuki felt the buzzing excitement under his skin. He extricated himself from the arms of Todoroki and began to get ready, pausing just long enough to grab his phone and the novel that he was reading to Izuku. He made the journey to Recovery Girl's office in record time, his face lighting up as the door opened. Recovery Girl frowned.

"Bakugo, he's not awake yet. It takes a while for the sedation to make its way out of the body. If he wakes up today, it'll most likely be in the afternoon." Katsuki deflated at her words, but stood in the hallway. 

"Let me sit with him. I don't give a shit that he's still asleep." Recovery Girl rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath about his language but let him in anyways. 

Katsuki took up residence in the familiar chair, his hand entwining with Izuku's. 

"Hey, Zu. Good morning." He spoke softly, unsure of the reason, "I'm staying until you wake up, damn nerd. Prepare to be blown the fuck away by my narration skills." His hand still grasping a smaller scarred one, Katsuki began reading aloud from the book. It was an incredibly domestic sight for Katsuki to be in, one that continued until the late afternoon.

Katsuki had just picked up another novel when he felt a soft twitch in the still hand beside him. Katsuki shot up, the book falling to the floor. The noise startled Recovery Girl and she looked up, glaring. Katsuki's eyes flickered momentarily over to her before they trained back on Izuku's face. Recovery Girl wheeled over and began preparations for Izuku's return. The endotracheal tube had been removed late last night, as Recovery Girl deemed Izuku's lungs healed enough to work on their own. She removed the medical tape over his eyes with a gentleness that Katsuki couldn't quite believe. After adjusting some wires and drips, she rolled back to her desk and winked at Katsuki. He smiled.

Katsuki sat on the edge of the bed, his arms pressed into the mattress on either side of Izuku's chest. A soft groan left the boy's throat and his eyes squeezed together as if in pain. Recovery Girl reached up and flicked off the lights. The tightness in Izuku's face subsided, before his lashes fluttered. Tired green eyes opened incrementally, hazy with sleep and a little pain. He closed them again for a moment.

"C'mon, Zuku. Open those pretty eyes for me." Katsuki reached up as he said this, cupping Izuku's cheek with his hand. The boy's head turned slightly and leaned into the touch, his top lip opening slightly as it rested on Katsuki's thumb. Katsuki chuckled and swiped his thumb softly against Izuku's lips. The boy's eyes opened slightly wider, before focusing on Katsuki.

"Hey, nerd." Katsuki whispered. 

Chapter Text

Izuku’s eyes filled with small tears. He smiled shakily. The hand on his face trembled. In a small voice, scratchy and almost nonexistent, Izuku whispered.

“Kacchan?” Crimson eyes crinkled, still wet with tears.

“Hey Zuku. Welcome back.” Izuku shifted slightly on the bed and let out a small gasp of pain. His entire chest hurt, pinpricks of sensation racing through the skin. He panted slightly at the sensation. Katsuki looked up and away from him. Footsteps echoed in the room, and Recovery Girl appeared in his field of vision.

“Welcome back, Mr. Midoriya. You’ve been through the wringer as of late. Are you in pain right now?” Katsuki rolled his eyes.

“Of course he is. He can barely move.” Izuku closed his eyes against the onslaught of feeling. A tiny and choked whimper escaped his lips. His hand came up and tapped twice on the hand resting on his cheek. Katsuki looked back to him, eyes softening further. 

“I’ve got you.” Just in Izuku’s line of sight, Recovery Girl fiddled with one of the IV bags that were attached to him, and he felt a numbing coolness race over his burned skin. Despite the relief it brought him, he shivered from the cold. Recovery Girl began her explanation of Izuku’s condition.

“To be frank, Midoriya, you’re quite lucky to even be alive. That man burned you quite badly. I couldn’t heal you as much as I would like to. Mr. Midoriya, you are a concerning amount underweight. Much lighter than you should be at this age. Because of this, and I’m surmising also a lack of nutrients, your stamina is spent quite easily. We had to sedate you in order to give you enough energy for healing.” 

Izuku looked down at his hands, beginning to pick at them. Katsuki reached over and grasped his hands, halting the picking. Recovery Girl nodded slightly at Katsuki. 

“I’m sorry, Recovery Girl. I didn’t mean to cause you any inconvenience.” The diminutive woman huffed.

“if there’s anyone you should be apologizing to, young man, it would be yourself.” Izuku flinched, and Katsuki rubbed his scarred knuckles. Recovery Girl sighed and sank down on her chair before placing her hand on Izuku’s shoulder. He looked up at her, eyes wide and tinged with fear.

“I’m not angry at you, Midoriya. I’m worried. I may be just an old lady, but you’re a student under my care. One of my favorite, actually, even though you’re in here more than I’d like.” She looked at both of them. “It’s okay to rely on others when you’re upset or hurting. We’re your teachers; It’s our job to help you all become the best heroes that you can be. And sometimes that means accepting help from others.

“I do have a treatment plan for you, young man. One that you may not like. In order to heal you fully, you need to gain weight. If only to increase your stamina enough to survive the healing sessions while not under sedation. You’ll be wearing that nasogastric tube for at least a week, and I’ll be monitoring your intake after it’s removed. Again, this is only to get you out of the danger zone you’ve placed yourself in. Once your burns are healed, then we’ll talk about healing your ankle.” Both boys looked up, shocked. Izuku’s eyes were wide and frightened, and Katsuki’s were tinged with indignation. Recovery Girl held up a hand.

“I will heal your ankle, young man. I’m not a monster. I am, however, going to wait to do that until your stamina is up. I want you to recover from the burns first fully and focus on weight restoration. For now, I’ll treat it with traditional medicine. After about four weeks, we’ll reassess the situation.” Katsuki deflated a bit, but Izuku began to tremble. 

“What about classes?” Recovery Girl smiled softly.

“You will be excused from the practical portions until your ankle is healed. I’m positive that you won’t fall far behind, and I know that the teachers would be more than happy to give you alternative assignments or help you after you’re healed. Your health comes first and foremost. Think of it this way: in hero work, it’s common to receive injuries that sideline you for quite a while, especially in areas where healing quirks are scarce. You can consider this training for that.” She knew that it wasn’t the best explanation, but her instincts told her that the boy needed reassurance that he wouldn’t be punished.

“I’m also requiring you to attend sessions with Hound Dog. You’ve been through a stressful situation, and no doubt seeing that man was uncomfortable. I plan to have you visit either him or me while your class is in practicals.” Izuku nodded, but his eyes still held worry. She decided to add one more point. 

“Midoriya, all of the teachers care a great deal for you. We just want to see you happy and healthy. Everyone is going to have bad things happen to them, or issues that they need to deal with. You’re safe here, and no one is going to be angry with you for needing help.” Katsuki reached over and tapped Izuku’s nose. 

“It’ll be okay, Zuku. You can trust them.” With the reassurance of Katsuki, Izuku finally relaxed. Recovery Girl was more than concerned about the blonde’s statement, but decided to pick her battles. 

“I’m going to discharge you today, as I’m sure your class wants to see you. Maybe they’ll finally stop clogging up the halls in front of the infirmary every few hours.” Katsuki had the decency to blush at her statement, and Izuku looked at him in confusion.

“I’ll tell you later, Zuku.” He turned to Recovery Girl. “So I can take him back with me.” Recovery Girl nodded.

“I’m going to show you both how to redress the bandages before you leave. It’s time they were changed anyways, and I’m sure Midoriya would like to be clean during these next few weeks.”

Izuku giggled at the statement, and both Katsuki and Recovery Girl looked at him. Katsuki soon joined Izuku in his laughter, and Recovery Girl smiled fondly as she walked to get bandages. 

She quickly showed the boys how to apply the burn salve and bandages, Katsuki more than Izuku. It was important that both boys knew how to do it, but she had a feeling that the blonde would be heavily involved in taking care of Izuku for the next few weeks. Now swathed in fabric, Izuku nodded and tried to swing his legs around to the edge of the bed, but stopped as his burns pulled. Recovery Girl laid a hand on his chest to stop his movements. 

“Where do you think you’re going? Did I not make it clear that you’re to be resting? If you need to go somewhere, you’re using a wheelchair. Honestly, kids these days.” She pulled a collapsible wheelchair out from where she had them stored and showed Katsuki how to work it. Izuku lay on the bed, willing the ache to go away.

“For the first week, I don’t want you going to class at all. I’m sure Aizawa would be happy to arrange either alternate assignments or a remote option for you. After the first week is up, I’ll reassess whether or not you’re healed enough to go to class. Don’t worry, you won’t fall behind. We’ve had enough students out for injuries to come prepared with alternate options.” Izuku smiled at her words. Katsuki crossed to Izuku’s bedside.

“Ready to go, nerd?” Izuku nodded softly and held his arms up. Katsuki laughed and drew the boy into his arms, settling him on the wheelchair with great care. Recovery Girl held out a bag. 

“Bandages, burn salve, and some pain medication. Be careful with the last one, it’s very strong.” She held Izuku’s wrist and slid a slim black hand around it. At the two’s questioning looks, she spoke.

“This bracelet will monitor your heart rate and temperature. It also has an emergency button - don’t worry, it takes a fingerprint to activate. This is just a precaution; I don’t expect you to use it, and I actually really hope that you won’t. But you need to keep it on at all times, or else I’ll think that you had a miraculous death.” Katsuki nodded solemnly at her. She placed the bag of medical gear on Izuku’s lap. Izuku smiled softly at her. 

“Thank you for taking care of me.” Recovery Girl smiled and placed a small kiss onto his forehead, careful not to activate her quirk. 

“I’ll see you here tomorrow, Midoriya. Bakugo, if you wouldn’t mind bringing him here during your lunch hour, I’d appreciate it.” Katsuki nodded.

The boys left the infirmary, Katsuki rolling down the hall a bit before stopping. He walked around the chair to stand in front of Izuku, before kneeling in front of him. Calloused hands came up and held his face, the touch feather-light. Izuku pressed into one of his hands. Green eyes blinked languidly as Katsuki’s own shone with tears.

“Kacchan?”

“Christ, Zuku. I thought I lost you.” Katsuki pressed their foreheads together. “I let that fucker get you. I let him burn you. And I couldn’t do a damn thing.” Izuku’s hands came up to encircle Katsuki’s wrists.

“Kacchan, you protected me. You tried to get me out and hide me. I was the one who decided to fight. Please don’t blame yourself.” Tears spilled down Katsuki’s cheeks as he held his boyfriend in his arms, reassuring himself of the other’s presence. He wrapped his arms around the other’s waist, pressing his face into the bandages. He was careful not to press too hard. His star, burning bright with the strength of a thousand supernovas, was fragile right now. He was delicate, a figure of glass and porcelain. Scarred hands caressed the back of his neck. 

“Kacchan, look at me.” Katsuki raised his eyes, his hands still gently gripping Izuku’s slender waist. Izuku’s green eyes were filled with tears. He smiled, watery and tiny. 

“I’m okay, or I’m going to be. I promise.” 

“Better fucking be, nerd. Or I’m bringing you back to kill you myself.” Izuku laughed, a high and clear noise. Katsuki rose up in his knees and drew the boy into a kiss, holding the other boy’s face. Izuku’s hands came up to cover his own. Katsuki tasted salty tears and antiseptic, and an underlying flavor that was undeniably Izuku. He tasted like stardust and light, like the beams of sun cutting through the clouds of a rainy day. He tasted like the rush of adrenaline right before a fight. He tasted like peace, like victory, like home. Izuku smiled against his lips.

“I love you, Kacchan.”

“I love you too, Izuku. So damn much.” 

Chapter Text

Izuku’s return to the dorm was heralded by the excited wails of Dark Shadow, who careened through the halls and burst through the door, which fell off their hinges. A panicked Tokoyami followed behind, afraid of a villain attack. Dark Shadow climbed into the sky, before diving down and screeching. 

The rest of Class 1-A piled out of the dorm, ready for a fight. Unable to differentiate Dark Shadow’s screeches, they were unaware of the elation of the creature. Iida was the first to see Katsuki wheeling Izuku down the pathway. He ran to the pair before falling to his knees in front of his friend. Too shocked and happy for words, the normally uptight boy made incomprehensible noises and waved his arms haphazardly, trying to convey his joy at seeing Izuku awake and coming back. Izuku, taking pity on his friend, placed his hands on Iida’s shoulders. 

“Hey, Iida. Sorry for worrying you.” The taller boy grinned, small tears flowing down his face.  He drew Izuku into a gentle hug, his hand coming up to cradle the boy’s head. Katsuki watched the exchange with a fond expression on his face. Iida could be unrelenting and more than a bit overbearing, but it was obvious how much he cared for his friend. 

Dark Shadow circled the group and with a happy screech, laid their head on top of Izuku’s. Long talons, so often used for defense against enemies or brutal assault, delicately wrapped around the boy’s slender frame. Golden tears formed in the blazing eyes, as a chant of ‘Bunnybunnybunnybunny’ poured from their beak. Izuku reached up a hand to stroke Dark Shadow’s snout and Tokoyami finally caught up to his familiar. At the sight of Izuku, the gothic boy’s eyes widened in delight. Aizawa’s voice rang out from the dorm entrance.

“What in the fresh fuck happened?” 

Izuku burst into laughter at his teacher’s words, the noise ringing throughout the group. He brought his hands up to his mouth to stifle his giggles, but couldn’t stop them from pouring out. The exasperated sigh as Aizawa gazed mournfully at the doors that he somehow had to replace just sent him into another fit of laughter. Iida’s booming laugh accompanied Izuku’s bell-like ones, and even Tokoyami and Katsuki cracked a smile. Dark Shadow had the decency to at least pretend to look sheepish, before diving between Iida and Izuku and burying his head into the boy’s stomach. 

Izuku’s laughter gave way into a fit of coughs and he tried to calm down, but the image of Aizawa’s face kept sending him over the edge. Katsuki, concerned, crouched down next to Izuku. Once his coughing had finally ceased, he sent a tired grin Katsuki’s way. 

Aizawa strode away from the dorm before settling in front of the wheelchair-bound boy. To everyone’s surprise, the pro-hero dropped to his knees and gathered Izuku into his arms. Izuku stiffened in Aizawa’s arms, before melting into the embrace. Against his will, tears dripped down his cheeks, wetting his teacher’s familiar capture weapon. Aizawa said nothing, instead closing his eyes as he embraced his forsaken problem child. Aizawa pulled back and ruffled Izuku’s hair before turning to face his students. 

“Behave.” HIs voice was an annoyed growl, and he quickly flashed his quirk at the students. A wave of concerned students crashed through the steps of the dorm. The reunion was a sight to behold. The class descended on the boys like a murder of crows descends on their chosen human. Izuku wasn’t sure exactly how, but he ended up in the arms of three different classmates, Katsuki spitting venom in his wake. He ended up in Shoji’s arms after a few moments, the tall boy cradling him in his arms, before he felt two somethings wrap around his waist and pull. It was Tsuyu and Sero, working in tandem to kidnap Izuku from the rest of the class. Izuku laughed, though quickly began crying. The class froze in terror, worried that he had been hurt or scared by their actions. Katsuki walked over to his boyfriend, snorting slightly at the tears. Ochaco smacked Katsuki’s arms, and the blonde rolled his eyes. 

“He’s not upset, dumbasses. He’s just overwhelmed. Give him a fucking minute, jesus.”

Izuku was more than overwhelmed at the love surrounding him. For years, it had been just him and his mother against the world. To see so many people, such powerful and ethereal beings, so concerned over him was astounding. He wasn’t a god among men; for most of his life had had been little more than the dirt that people such as they would deign to walk upon. But here they were, Izuku broken and unlovable, being showered in the affection of those he had dreamed of becoming. Eventually Izuku’s tears trickled away. Katsuki ruffled his hair and gestured to the dorms. Izuku nodded. Before either could do anything, Izuku felt a hand on him and gravity fall away. He leaned his head backwards and saw Uraraka grinning at him, her face upside down from his vantage point. Sato had, at this point, taken the wheelchair from Katsuki’s grip and was carrying it towards the dorms. Katsuki held Izuku’s hand as the group headed back towards the entryway, careful to step over the fallen doors. 

Dinner was an awkward and spectacular affair in the way that only Class 1-A could be. Despite Katsuki and Sato’s insistence that they could handle dinner, Kaminari had booted everyone from the kitchen. He returned carrying trays laden with PBJ sandwiches. He strutted through the room, handing out a sandwich to each person - Aizawa included - and decidedly ignoring his classmate’s go smacked expressions. When he reached Izuku, he grinned and presented the boy’s sandwich to him with a large flourish. Izuku beamed at him, tears leaking out of his eyes. Denki froze for a moment, then wordlessly pointed to his own nose. Izuku cocked his head to the side before his eyes widened. He looked over to Aizawa and gestured between himself and Denki before pointing to his nose where the nasogastric tube was inserted. Aizawa gave him a thumbs up around the sandwich he was holding. It was such an innocuous and ridiculous sight that both boys snorted. Izuku took the sandwich from Denki and butted his head against the boy’s palm. Denki leaned down and butted his own head against Izuku’s forehead before walking off. 

Denki raised his sandwich in a toast as he had done for three nights previous. Everyone followed suit, Aizawa lifting an eyebrow but saying nothing. Denki leaned forward and clinked his sandwich against Izuku’s before eating. Denki matched Izuku bite for bite, and grinned softly as they finished their sandwiches. After their dinner, the class piled into the common room to watch a movie. 

The class spent most of the night together piled into the common room. No one had the strength to part from the rest of their class, each desperate to reassure themselves that their classmate was okay. Aizawa, who would usually have been adamant about his students going to bed, said nothing. Instead, he flicked the lights off and let them rest. Nineteen teenagers lay in a pile on the floor of the common room, burrowed into numerous blankets, pillows, and couch cushions. In the middle lay Izuku, cradled in the arms of Katsuki and Shoto. The class breathed as a unit. Aizawa definitely did not take pictures, and definitely did not send them to the teacher’s group chat, thank you very much. 

As the class slept, Aizawa crept forward to check on Izuku. Despite his return, the boy still had medical needs that needed to be cared for. Aizawa checked and reapplied the boy’s bandages becorw leaning back in satisfaction. He slunk over to the couch and laid down with little ceremony, falling asleep himself. If he stayed for the same reasons that no student returned to their dorms, it was no one's business but Aizawa’s. 

Mineta was noticeably absent from the festivities. No one paid much mind, some of the girls even cheering at his absence. On the cusp of sleep, Izuku idly wondered where the boy was. 

Mineta, as you might expect, was scheming. He had been at odds with himself since Katsuki and Izuku went ‘public’ with their relationship. Any respect gay Mineta had held for the green haired boy since the USJ incident had quickly dissipated. Add on to the fact that Izuku’s father - ignoring the obvious lack of relationship and actual abuse between the two - was a villain, Mineta had arrived at his final straw. He couldn’t understand why the class had sat a vigil for the boy, one who so obviously was a villain himself. He sat in his room hearing the festivities downstairs. It made him sick that eighteen heroes were being manipulated by a sad pair of green eyes. Couldn’t they see that Midoriya would just turn out to be like his father? Mineta groaned and turned to his plans. In order to put Midoriya as the villain he was, Mineta’s plans needed to be flawless. He grinned evilly to himself as he jotted down ideas. He would lie in wait until the opportune moment then strike. Midoriya wouldn’t know what hit him, and he would be recognized as the hero that saved UA. 

The night’s watchful eyes hung down, passing its silent judgement. 

Chapter Text

Izuku woke to the sensation of being carried. The cadence of stepping and the subtle rocking of his body in someone’s arms was calming. Fighting off the drowsy daze he felt, his eyes opened. A shock of red and white floated above him, hazy as Izuku blinked the sleep out of his eyes. It wasTodoroki. The boyseemed unaware of Izuku’s wakefulness, turning his head and whispering something to another walking beside him. Izuku closed his eyes, nuzzling his head into the broad chest he was cradled against. 

After some time, Izuku felt his body descend and the cool silky feeling of bedsheets materialize. under his fingers. A soft heaviness was pulled over him and he melted under the reassuring weight. He blinked softly, blearily gazing at the two in his room. 

“Sho? Denki?” Izuku rubbed his hand over his eyes, the slight scratch of bandages brushing against his cheek. Denki grinned at him. 

“Hey Izu! I hope you don’t mind, but I brought one of my weighted blankets for you. I know bandages have a weird feel, so I hope this helps.” Izuku smiled sleepily at him and butted his head into Denki’s outstretched hand. Todoroki sat by Izuku’s head, placing a cool hand on his forehead. The boy didn’t speak. Izuku closed his eyes at the touch, nuzzling his head into the hand. Kaminari spoke again.

“Hope you don’t mind if we crash here for a while. Kiri’s taking Bakugo back to his room. We figured both of you need the rest. I am also low-key raiding your room. Your nonexistent stim collection leaves much to be desired.” Izuku huffed a small laugh and croaked out a thank you, his voice still a tad gravelly from the abuse that it had suffered. Todoroki stroked his hand through Izuku’s curls.

“Go to sleep, Izuku. We are here.” Todoroki’s solemn face broke into a small grin, mirrored by Izuku’s own. He was suddenly reminded of his time with the vestiges, of how safe and protected he had felt. His eyes slipped closed once more, and he fell asleep with the burgeoning warmth blooming in his chest. 

Izuku woke up hours later to the feeling of soft blonde spikes tickling his nose. He batted slightly at the feeling before stopping as a rumbling chuckle rattled from the warmth at his side. The feeling of the warmth’s laugh reverberated through his ribcage. A broad hand traced small circles on his hipbone. Crimson eyes broke through the haze surrounding his vision and Izuku curled into the warm chest of Katsuki Bakugo. Izuku turned his head  - his chest still not quite up to the movement - to face the blonde more fully. 

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Katsuki’s hand came up to card through Izuku’s hair. 

“Gotta get up, Zuku. I need to change your bandages.” Izuku huffed but held his arm out all the same. Katsuki helped the smaller boy into a sitting position. He straightened the tubes connected to Izuku - the nasogastric tube and an IV that Izuku just noticed - before scooping the boy into his arms. He carried Izuku into the adjoining bathroom and sat him down in the edge of the bathtub before helping Izuku slide out of the shirt he was wearing, carefully adjusting around his newly acquired rubber appendages. The blonde began removing the bandages crossing his chest. Katsuki reached over to the sink and returned with a washcloth in hand. With a delicacy most would not suspect the blonde capable of, he swiped the damp cloth across Izuku’s chest, cleaning the burned area. Katsuki have little indication of his feelings, the slight furrowing of his brow the only sign of his inner thoughts. 

He dipped the cloth into the basin of water that he had brought and wrung it out before continuing. After Katsuki was satisfied, he wrung the cloth out once more before running it up and down Izuku’s legs. He had crouched in front of the boy. Katsuki pressed a small kiss to each of Izuku’s knees before standing up. He pulled Izuku’s hips towards him before lowering Izuku onto the ground. Katsuki pressed a large hand to Izuku’s chest, leaning him back until his head hung over the lip of the tub. He placed the washcloth behind Izuku’s neck and took the basin in hand. Izuku’s eyes were closed, his lips quirked up in a small smile. 

Katsuki poured a small stream of water on Izuku’s head, careful to protect his eyes from the stream of water. He did this a few more times, letting the curls become soaked. He grabbed a towel and began ruffling the curls with it, careful to keep his movements small and gentle. After he was done, Katsuki reached out and grabbed a small container of burn salve. With steady hands, Katsuki applied the salve to Izuku’s burns, practiced motions soothing the flesh there. Izuku let out a small sigh, leaning into Katsuki’s touch when the blonde placed a hand to his cheek. In his sleepy state, Izuku was pliant and loose, following the directions of Katsuki’s hands with little complaint. Katsuki’s hand came to rest over Izuku’s heart, the undying thrum beating under his fingers. Scarred fingers covered his own and squeezed faintly. Izuku’s eyes met his own, filled with adoration and a hint of pain. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Kacchan.” Katsuki pressed their foreheads together, ever careful of Izuku’s fragile state. They pulled away and Katsuki began the process of winding bandages around Izuku’s chest. He placed small kisses at each fastening of bandage. Once he was done, he kissed Izuku’s forehead and gathered the smaller boy once more into his arms. He laid both of them in Izuku’s bed, Katsuki careful to maneuver Izuku into a safe position. 

“Go to sleep, Zuku.” Izuku held onto Katsuki’s hand and placed a featherlight kiss against the knuckles there. His body sagged in exhaustion and he fell asleep against the pillow of Katsuki’s chest. 

Izuku spent most of the next week asleep. He later learned that the entire class was exempted from in-person classes for the week. They would have their class meetings in the common room, one or two people dialing in from Izuku’s room. It seemed that Katsuki was there almost every time that he woke. If not Katsuki, then another member of Class 1-A. Izuku even caught Aizawa there, once. The man had been drinking coffee at his desk and had nodded in acknowledgement at Izuku’s wakefulness. At Izuku’s questioning and hopeful look, Aizawa shook his head.

“Recovery Girl said no coffee until your tube is out.” Izuku huffed in annoyance and Aizawa patted his arm in moral support. 

“No chance that you’ll put some in the IV for me?” Aizawa huffed a laugh but shook his head all the same. 

“I promise I’ll buy you coffee as soon as it’s out.” 

“Are you just using me as an excuse to persuade Present Mic to get you that fancy coffee?”

“I will not confirm or deny any suspicions that you may have.” Izuku snorted.

“The class is out for the week, but they’re returning on Monday. Once you can stay awake for more than an hour, you can join us. Bakugo’s offered to stay with you while classes are running. Would you be comfortable with that, or do you want Bakugo to stay with the class. I’d rather you not be alone, not until you’re more healed.”

“I don’t want Kacchan to miss class…”

“He’d still be attending via video lectures. Worry about yourself for once, Problem Child.” 

“Well, if he’s okay with it, then I am too.” Aizawa nodded. He stood up and moved to the door before pausing. He turned to face Izuku and smiled at him. It wasn’t his usual smile, but a smaller and more genuine one. 

“Take care, problem child.” Aizawa left, closing the door behind him. He began to walk down the corridor, but stopped at the feeling of paper crunching under his boot. He stared at the paper. It stared back at him. He picked it up gingerly, hoping that it was a stray assignment or an announcement. He shoved it in his pocket and walked away, opting to investigate the paper away from the prying eyes of his students. It could be nothing. But on the off chance that it wasn’t, Aizawa wanted to keep it as far away from his students as he could. 

At the end of the week, Izuku awoke to see Recovery Girl standing at his bedside. He had known that the healer had been in his room often - if nothing else, the bag attached to his nasogastric tube had been refilled and he knew that Katsuki didn’t have the training to do that. He greeted her, a nod being the only acknowledgment that he received in return. She set to work - checking on his injuries and refilling his various tubes. She completed her work and sat in his desk chair.

“How are you feeling, Midoriya?” Izuku paused, considering her question. 

“Still a little crispy, but otherwise pretty good.” She nodded, snorting softly at his joke, and spoke once more. 

“I’m clearing you to return to classes remotely. Since you’ll be awake and relatively more active, I’m keeping you on the drips. You’re okay to eat normally, in fact I encourage it. You’re not cleared for any strenuous exercise - if you need to leave your room, use the wheelchair. If you don’t, I. Will. Know. We’ll reassess at the end of the week to see if you’re okay to go to classes in-person. Do you have any questions?”

“Can I have coffee?” Recovery Girl sighed in exasperation. She looked at Izuku, who looked back with an entirely too-innocent face. 

“As much as I would like to say no, I know that you are a fiend and would somehow cajole Mr. Bakugo into bringing you some. So yes, but only one cup per day. Am I clear?” Izuku nodded excitedly. Recovery Girl ruffled his hair. 

“Get some more rest, Mr. Midoriya. I’ll see if you’re up to some more healing next week.” 

“Thank you, Recovery Girl. I apologize for any inconvenience.” Recovery Girl shook her head and placed a small kiss onto his forehead. She left, placing a sheet of Izuku’s progress on his desk. This would inform anyone who cared to read it what he was and was not cleared to do. Izuku drifted back to sleep with a smile. He was healing, he was getting better, he was getting coffee. He would be okay. 

A shadow fell across Izuku’s closed door. The figure casting the shadow considered the wood frame for a moment. It looked down, seeing that its note had been taken. Good , the figure thought, Soon enough Midoriya will be gone and I will be the hero again. 

The note that Aizawa had picked up from the floor lay all but forgotten in his pocket. In the dark fabric, the note smoldered with the malicious intent of harm. The note, regardless of its intentions, was just a note. It cared not for drama or the inner machinations of teenagers. Its sole purpose was to deliver its message, and invoke what its creator needed. Soon, the note promised , Soon things would come to light.

Chapter Text

Izuku woke on Monday to Katsuki sitting in his desk chair. Katsuki regarded him, then went back to what he was reading. As he read, he spoke.

“How the fuck did you convince Granny to let you have coffee?” Izuku snorted and began to sit up. Katsuki pushed him down with one hand.

“My overwhelming powers of persuasion.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. 

“Well, makes my life easier. You do what I tell you, or no coffee.” Izuku gasped, affronted. 

“You would do that? To me? Betrayal! Complete and utter betrayal!” Katsuki laughed this time before rolling across the room. He came back with a small tray. It held toast, a bowl of soups, and - to Izuku’s utter delight - a rather large up of iced coffee. He reached for it before his hand was batted away. 

“Food first, nerd. Or I’ll drink it right in front of you.” 

“This is abuse.” Katsuki didn’t reply, instead setting the tray on Izuku’s bedside table and helping him sit up. He placed the tray on Izuku’s lap once he was settled, unfortunately sans coffee. Izuku pouted at him, but complied. Once Izuku was finished eating, Katsuki handed the lidded cup to Izuku, placing a kiss on his forehead. 

“You’re the best. I love you.” 

“Love you too, nerd.” The two went about their morning, Katsuki helping Izuku to the bathroom before they settled in for the day. Izuku’s computer was set up on his lap, Katsuki sitting next to him on the bed. If the teachers were confused or perturbed at the setup, they gave no indication. The only reaction they got was an eyeroll from Aizawa and a “behave, you too” sent in the private message of the video calling app. They dutifully followed along to the lessons, participating where they could. Once the morning’s lessons were over, Katsuki stood up from the bed and stretched. He turned to Izuku. 

“I’m going to get us lunch, and then you’re taking a nap. Don’t think I didn’t catch you dozing off during Mic’s lecture.” Izuku conceded, laughing softly as Katsuki left. When Katsuki returned, the two ate together. Izuku struggled to finish his portion, leaving about half on the plate. Katsuki ruffled his hair all the same, smiling softly at him. Izuku blushed at the attention. Katsuki winked at him, then pulled another lidded cup of coffee out from behind his back. Izuku wiggled with delight, flapping his hands around in excitement. Katsuki laughed, then handed him the cup once his hands had settled down. Katsuki spoke while Izuku drank his coffee.

“Feeling up to going outside today? I was going to do some training, and I figured that you’d want some fresh air.” Izuku nodded, smiling around the straw. Once he had finished his drink, Katsuki plucked the cup out of his hands.

“Okay, you go nap and after we’ll go outside. If I catch you pulling something, no coffee. Got it?” Izuku nodded again. 

“I promise, Kacchan.” Katsuki nodded, then poked Izuku’s hip.

“Scooch over, nerd.” Izuku complied. Katsuki settled them down into a comfortable position, his arm thrown around Izuku’s waist. Green eyes met crimson. Izuku bumped their noses together. Katsuki’s nose wrinkled at the sensation. He glared, his gaze lacking any real heat. The two fell asleep together, Katsuki setting an alarm on his phone. 

The alarm blared, bringing the two back to wakefulness. Izuku mumbled against Katsuki’s shoulder and closed his eyes, soaking in the warmth. Katsuki sighed before planting a small kiss on Izuku’s brow. 

“Zuku, do you still want to go?” Izuku nodded sleepily. Katsuki stood, taking a moment to pop his back before lugging over the wheelchair that Recovery Girl had loaned them. He turned to face Izuku and his heart melted at the sight. The boy was bleary-eyed and rumpled from sleep, but held his hand up to Katsuki. Had Izuku been more awake, he would have tried to insist on doing everything on his own. But this sleepy Izuku was cuddly and more accepting of help. Izuku blinked and moved his hands in a “come pick me up” motion. Katsuki swept him up into strong arms, kissing his forehead and face before lowering him gently into the waiting chair. Izuku pressed his head into Katsuki’s arm, his eyes closed and mouth drawn into a contented smile. Katsuki knelt in front of him and drew the other boy into a small kiss. Izuku’s hands came up and cupped Katsuki’s cheeks. 

The two drew apart and Katsuki wheeled his boyfriend down the hall and into the elevator. Neither boy spoke, a contented silence hanging between them. As they exited the elevator, Katsuki leaned over and grabbed a soft blanket from one of the common room chairs, draping it over Izuku’s head. The tired boy pawed half-heartedly at it as Katsuki parked the wheelchair on the veranda. Settling the blanket around Izuku’s shoulders, Katsuki placed another kiss on Izuku’s head before striding away and beginning his training.

Izuku, for his part, tried to stay awake. But the unfamiliar fullness combined with his body’s need to heal had him napping on his hand a few minutes in. Katsuki looked over at him occasionally, subconsciously making sure that he was still breathing. This is how Class 1-A found the two as they returned from their classes: Katsuki training and Izuku dead to the world. Mina definitely took pictures, sending them to the class group chat while being yelled at by Iida for improper decorum.

Izuku woke back up in his bed, Katsuki curled around him. He assumed that the blonde had brought him back after his training was finished. Izuku pressed a small kiss to Katsuki’s forehead and went back to sleep. Most of the next week passed in this fashion: Izuku and Katsuki attending classes online and Katsuki using coffee as leverage to get Izuku to rest. Recovery Girl summoned them to the infirmary for the next check. Katsuki wheeled Izuku over, the two chatting quietly as they entered. 

Recovery Girl began her check and, once finished, nodded in satisfaction. She sat on her desk chair and wheeled over to the two boys. 

“Alright, Midoriya. Your healing is coming along quite nicely. You’re cleared to attend classes in-person from now on. However, I am not clearing you for practicals, and I want you to keep using the wheelchair for another week. You do get to have that tube removed today, though.” She motioned for Katsuki to grab one of the washcloths she had in the office. Once he had that in hand, she turned back to Izuku. 

“This will feel incredibly weird.” She removed the tape keeping the tube secured to Izuku’s face before adjusting Izuku’s head to lean forward slightly. With quick and practiced movements, she removed the tube. 

“Nggggh.” Izuku made an involuntary noise as the tube was removed, but was as compliant as he could be as she finished her check. Katsuki used the washcloth to wipe at Izuku’s face, seeing some unidentifiable substance dripping from his nose. Izuku smiled gratefully at him. Recovery Girl turned to Katsuki.

“Take him back to the dorm after this. I’m going to use more of my quirk on him now.” Katsuki nodded. Recovery Girl kissed Izuku on the forehead and his eyes fluttered closed as the feeling of exhaustion permeated throughout his being. He blinked sleepily at her and she cooed internally at the sight. Katsuki reached over and ruffled his hair. The two departed, Izuku’s head lolling against Katsuki’s chest. Izuku was completely asleep by the time that they had reached the dorms. Katsuki bypassed his fellow students in favor of heading to the elevator. Todoroki stood at the entrance and entered with them. The blonde shared a nod with Todoroki before they both walked down the hall. Katsuki stopped short at Izuku’s room. 

It had been ransacked. The door was wide open and swinging slightly. Papers were strewn over the ground. Izuku’s clothes had been thrown into the center of the room and books lay all around the room. Katsuki and Shoto tensed, preparing for a fight. Izuku slept. Katsuki motioned with his head towards Izuku, beckoning the dual-quirk user over. 

“Take him to your room. Call Engines to meet me here.” Todoroki nodded before hurrying off, pulling his phone out as the elevator doors closed behind him. With great care, Katsuki entered the room. He checked around cupboards, in the bathroom, and under any surface that a person could fit. He opened the curtains slightly to see if there was any sign of an intruder. Iida appeared in the doorway.

“Bakug- oh my god what happened?” Iida’s eyes widened as he took in the destruction of the room.

“I was taking Deku to see Recovery Girl. This is what we fucking came back to.” For once, Iida didn’t admonish Katsuki’s language, for which the blonde was rather thankful. 

“Is Midoriya safe?” Katsuki nodded.

“Half-and-half’s taking him up to his room.” 

“I will get Mr. Aizawa. This could be the work of a villain.” Katsuki nodded again and Iida tore off. Katsuki walked around the room, surveying it for any clue of what the perpetrator was after. He stopped short at the bookshelves. A hidden panel, one that very few people knew about, was open and empty. Thirteen notebooks were missing. Izuku’s quirk analysis notebooks were missing. Katsuki tried not to freak out. Iida came back, towing a ruffled-looking Aizawa. 

“Bakugo,” Aizawa said, his voice laden with concern, “Iida gave me the gist. Anything you’d like to add?”

“Zuku’s quirk analysis notebooks are missing.” Aizawa’s eyes widened. He knew about Izuku’s analysis hobby. He had actually set up a meeting for the boy with Principal Nedzu to discuss his notebooks. Aizawa had helped Izuku install the hidden compartment for his notebooks, including the passcode lock that only he, Katsuki, and Izuku knew the code to. With a quick glance, Aizawa saw that the locking mechanism was demolished.

“Both of you out. I need to take pictures for evidence. Bakugo, make sure Midoriya’s alright” The boys nodded, both of them rushing up to the fourth floor. Aizawa began snapping pictures of the carnage of the room. He ended with the compartment, zooming in on the locking mechanism when he noticed something odd surrounding it. There was a small trace of purple there and, on close inspection, it was a sticky substance. Aizawa frowned. He suddenly remembered the piece of paper that he had found outside this room last week. He pulled it out - thankfully wearing the same pair of pants - and read it. Despite being somewhat waterlogged from the laundry, it was still legible. 

“I will expose you as the fake hero that you are, Midoriya. -G” Aizawa sighed and snapped a picture, cursing himself for his foolishness at forgetting about the slip of paper. He paused, looking around. He saw a small bag and grabbed it, filling it with some clothing, school supplies, Izuku’s computer, and anything else that the boy might need for the next week. It was a precaution, in case an official investigation was instigated. He strode out of the room, closing the door, before boarding the elevator to the fourth floor. Upon arriving, he knocked on Todoroki’s door. Iida had told him that this was where Bakugo sent Midoriya. He was greeted by Todoroki, his face drawn in concern. He held out the bag in his arms. 

“For Midoriya.” Todoroki nodded and took the bag from Aizawa’s hand. Aizawa walked away, beginning the trek towards Nedzu’s office.

No one threatens his kids without consequences. No one.

Chapter Text

Izuku woke to the vaguely familiar ceiling of Todoroki’s room. It was a little distressing. He had fallen asleep in his borrowed wheelchair, expecting to wake up to his own ceiling. The uneasiness curled in his stomach, prompting him to sit up. 

Katsuki and Shoto were sitting near the room’s desk, talking in low voices. The writing tendrils of his distress crept up his esophagus. Katsuki and Shoto, even when they were not actively butting heads, generally kept a distance between them. To see the two diametrically opposed boys so close together was a signal that something was wrong, and that they were teaming up to make it right. Izuku’s tongue poked out to wet his lips. In a scratchy and tired voice, he spoke. 

“Kacchan? Shoto? What’s going on?” Both boys whipped around to face him, the tension around their shoulders slackening so quickly that Izuku knew it was for his own benefit. Something was incredibly wrong, but they didn’t want him to know. 

“Hello, Izuku,” Shoto said, his voice low, “How did you sleep?” Izuku frowned. 

“Fine. What’s going on.” The two looked at each other. “I know something is up. You too never get along, unless there’s a bigger problem.” Katsuki sighed.

“Can’t shut up your stupid brain for one minute, can you? Well, there’s no point in hiding it. Someone broke into your room and trashed it. Took your notebooks, too.” Izuku gasped, his hands clenching the soft sheets he sat on top of. His breaths came in short gasps and he curled into himself. Izuku’s vision tunneled as he gasped for breath. Someone had stolen his notebooks. Someone had stolen his quirk analysis notebooks. Someone had known about the secret compartment in his room that Aizawa had helped him install. He felt terrified. He felt violated. Katsuki stood up and walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed. Izuku looked up into crimson eyes. Katsuki placed his hand on the back of Izuku’s neck, his other hand coming up to clutch Izuku’s own. He placed Izuku’s scarred hand over his chest. 

“Zuku, I need you to match my breathing.” What? Why?

“You’re hyperventilating. I need you to match my breathing so you don’t pass out.” Oh. Katsuki had a good point. Izuku’s breath stuttered as he tried to match his own heaving breaths with Katsuki’s slower ones. 

“In through your nose and hold. Good, now breathe out for four. Okay. Again. You’re doing great, Zuku, just keep focusing on me.” Todoroki’s hand came into his field of vision, placing a cup into his own hand. Katsuki looked away - Izuku assumed towards Shoto. 

“Thanks, IcyHot.” Katsuki removed his hand from Izuku’s neck and took what seemed to be a chunk of ice out of the cup.

“Open your mouth, Zuku.” He did, and Katsuki placed the ice shard onto his tongue. The cold had him blinking, and he closed his mouth around the new sensation, sucking slightly on the improvised ice chip. His breath became steadier and steadier, the tenseness bleeding slowly from his shoulders. Katsuki’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, pulling him in. Izuku leaned against his chest. 

“You’re okay, Zuku. Aizawa’s on it now. You’re not in trouble. Just keep breathing with me.” Izuku closed his eyes and buried his head in Katsuki’s neck, letting the pulsing thrum of Katsuki’s heart wash over him. Katsuki held him, swaying back and forth. Izuku let out a small breath and nodded against Katsuki’s neck.

“I’m okay, Kacchan.” Katsuki pressed his lips onto Izuku’s forehead. Todoroki’s voice came from his side. 

“Your safety is our priority, Izuku. You can stay here or in Bakugo’s room for the time being. I am sorry that this happened to you.”

 “Thanks, Sho.” A cool hand pressed against his back. 

“Is it okay if I hug you, Izuku?” Izuku nodded, and Shoto’s arms wrapped around his waist, his head falling onto Izuku’s shoulders. Katsuki’s voice mumbled into his ear.

“We’ve got you, Zuku. We won’t let anything happen to you.” Izuku felt tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by the love of his friends and by the situation as a whole. He drifted back to sleep, ensconced in the feeling of being loved. 

Aizawa stood in front of Principal Nedzu’s door. He knocked, and was beckoned in by Nedzu’s lilting voice. He opened the door and was greeted by a cheerful wave.

“How can I help you today, Aizawa?” Aizawa sank down into one of the chairs in front of Nedzu’s desk and pulled out his phone along with the note.

“There’s been a break-in at the Class 1-A dorms. Izuku Midoriya’s room, to be exact.” Nedzu frowned. “The room was ransacked, and Midoriya’s quirk analysis notebooks are missing.” 

“This is an unfortunate situation. I know that Midoriya put a lot of work into those. The boy has such a bright mind.” Aizawa nodded. “Is Midoriya safe?”

“Yes. Bakugo and Todoroki are with him right now. The entire class is up in arms.”

“It’s lovely to hear about the camaraderie of our students. No doubt this bond will translate into their future heroic endeavors. Now, I will review the security footage in hopes that we can find the perpetrator.”

“Sir, I have a suspicion that it was done by one of the students.” 

“Oh?”

“The notebooks were stored in a secret compartment in Midoriya’s bookshelf, one that I helped him install. Bakugo is the only other student that knew about it, but it’s not hard to surmise that one of the others on his floor knew that some construction was going on in his room. The locking mechanism was also broken, which is how the perpetrator was able to gain access. There was a sticky purple residue on the locking mechanism.” Aizawa showed the picture to Nedzu. 

“I understand. I’ll work quickly to confirm your suspicions. Once the culprit is caught, we’ll proceed with expulsion procedures, and possibly criminal charges, depending on if Midoriya consents to it.”

“Understood.”

“Thank you for informing me, Aizawa. I know that you care for your students. Rest assured, the culprit will not go unpunished. I ask that you keep an extra vigilant eye over them in the meantime.” Aizawa nodded and stood up, departing quickly. He had a homeroom class to teach. Nedzu pulled up the security camera footage from the 1-A dorms, forwarding until he found what he needed. He settled in to watch. 

Izuku slept the night in Todoroki’s room, Katsuki and Shoto curled around him. Each of the boys needed the comfort of holding onto each other. In the morning, Izuku woke to blonde and red hair in his vision. He was sandwiched between the two boys, who each had an arm thrown around his waist. Ignoring the sting of his still-healing skin, Izuku maneuvered himself out of their embrace and padded over to Todoroki’s bathroom, stumbling slightly. He flipped on the light and pointedly ignored the mirror. No need to make this day any worse, Izuku thought to himself. After he had finished, he walked back out and began dressing for the day. He had to sit down for a minute as his vision greyed slightly. Katsuki and Todoroki woke up slowly, their eyes opening at the same time. The two boys flinched and flung themselves away from each other. Izuku couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Katsuki’s head whipped around to find him and he growled, Izuku noticing the minute tension of his shoulders easing at the sight of him. Todoroki turned to face him, trying desperately to look unflustered by his and Katsuki’s previous proximity.

“Good morning, Izuku. I see that you’re ready for today. Are you joining us in class?” Izuku nodded.

“Recovery Girl said that I’m cleared for in-person classes. I still have to use that,” he gestured to the borrowed wheelchair, “but I’m excited to be back.” Todoroki nodded with a small smile. 

Both boys began preparing for the day, Katsuki grumbling under his breath but acting decidedly civil to Todoroki. Izuku assumed that it was because he was here. Once they were ready, Katuski scooped Izuku up into his arms. Izuku squawked indignantly. 

“You do realize that I am, in fact, capable of walking five feet, Kacchan?” Katsuki grinned wolfishly. 

“I know.” Izuku rolled his eyes but grinned nonetheless. Todoroki took a picture of them, not even trying to be subtle about it. Izuku blushed and hid his face in his hands. Katsuki stuck his tongue out at Todoroki. 

“I will be sending this to the groupchat. I apologize in advance.” Izuku shook his head as Katsuki lowered him into the waiting chair. The three boys departed. 

Izuku’s arrival into the 1-A classroom was heralded by a raucous cheer led by Kirishima and Kaminari. Izuku blushed at the attention, but did his best to greet his classmates as Katsuki wheeled him over to his desk. Katsuki moved to pick Izuku up again, but the green-haired boy slid out of the chair and into the seat before he could. Izuku stuck his tongue out petulantly at his boyfriend who returned the gesture with vigor. Kaminari’s voice rose up out of the sea of voices.

“Deku really said ‘skrrt skrrt’.” Mina wheezed. 

Aizawa strode in and flared his quirk to signal to his students that class was about to begin. 

“Welcome back, Midoriya.” Izuku grinned and thanked him. Class went as it normally did, the only difference being Izuku sliding into the wheelchair for class changes. As the bell for lunch rang out, Katsuki’s hand on his chair was blocked by a much smaller one. 

“Hey Midoriya, mind if I walk with you?” Izuku started, looking over his shoulder. It was Mineta. 

“Oh, uh, sure Mineta.” Katsuki looked as if he was about to protest, anger in his eyes, when Cementoss called him over to talk about an assignment. He nodded and fixed his eyes on Mineta.

“Any funny business and I’ll rock your shit, Grape Bastard.” Mineta looked affronted.

“Geez, Bakugo, back off. It wouldn’t be very heroic of me to hurt a defenseless invalid, now would it.” Katsuki said nothing, instead locking eyes with Izuku. He shrugged. The comment about his supposed defenselessness had rankled, but he decided to let it go for now.

“I’ll be okay, Kacchan. You shouldn’t keep Cementoss waiting.” Katsuki rolled his eyes, but placed a kiss on Izuku’s forehead and walked away all the same. Neither boy noticed Mineta’s face twisting into a scowl at the display of affection, before being schooled into a jovial grin. No one saw how Mineta’s hands twisted against the hands of the wheelchair as if he was restraining himself from hitting or choking Izuku. No one noticed Mineta surreptitiously placing a ball against the Izuku’s back, trapping him to the chair. No one, that is, except the security cameras. 

Chapter Text

Izuku felt tense as Mineta pushed him down the hallways. The boy had always been...unusual, but Izuku had always felt that he wasn’t any real threat. So the unease creeping up his spine seemed out of place. His mind flashed with danger warnings for him to run, to escape, to hide. But Izuku couldn’t. For one thing, it would be an awkward situation, at the very least. For another, Izuku couldn’t quite pull himself off of the chair. There seemed to be some force holding him in place. Mineta guided them down the hallway towards the lunchroom, then took a sharp turn. 

“Uh, Mineta?” Izuku asked, not knowing where they were going. 

“Don’t worry about it, Midoriya. I just want to show you something.” Izuku sighed internally. Most likely, it would be something perverse and uncomfortable, and Izuku would once again need to report his behavior to Aizawa. The only reason that he still trusted the man’s judgement regarding Mineta was the fact that he was actually building a legal case against the purple boy to have him registered as a sex offender and a villain. The initial court proceedings were in the spring, and Aizawa was scrambling to get every piece of evidence that he could against the boy. 

Mineta turned down another set of halls, one that Izuku didn’t recognize. As they walked, Mineta spoke.

“Y’know, Midoriya, ever since the USJ incident, I’ve looked up to you. But recently, you’ve been lacking. I mean, dating Bakugo? That ass? You could do so much better. I mean, he’s one step away from being a villain.” Izuku started and turned around angrily to retort, but Mineta’s hand slapped against his mouth, something sticky and unyielding staying in place after he removed it. It was tape, purple in hue and most likely a derivative of Mineta’s balls.

“That’s better. Can’t have you go and whine to Aizawa about this. After all, I’m just exposing secrets. Do you like that by the way? I figured out how to turn my balls into different forms. How’s that for a special move?” Izuku tried to wrench his body away from Mineta, but felt the tug against his back once more. Mineta had stuck him to the chair using his quirk, Izuku realized with mounting horror. Izuku glanced behind him, and saw that they stood at the top of a large staircase.

“As I was saying,” Mineta continued, “You’re becoming less and less of a hero every day. And I won’t stand for that.” He whipped Izuku around and, sticking small balls to his sleeves to trap his arms to the chair, whipped out his phone and started recording. 

“Izuku Midoriya, you are no hero. Let me share the facts. What you are is a simpering idiot who relies on others to take care of you and is basically mentally deficient. You cried the other day because the lights were too loud. You’re no hero, you’re a baby. And that’s not all. What you are, Midoriya, is a villain. You’re the son of the famous villain, Viserion. Probably been in cahoots with him since you were a kid. That’s strike one. Strike two is your simpering relationship with Bakugo. I mean, as much as I hate the guy, you have to respect his drive and passion. A passion that, until recently, was dedicated solely to becoming a hero and kicking your ass. Now he’s a fucking simp for a weak ass bitch like you. And strike three,” Mineta reached behind his back and pulled out a terribly singed and oh-so-familiar notebook, “is this. What are these, you ask? Well, they’re detailed accounts of all of our classmates' quirks, including notes on how to defeat each one of us and even use our quirks against us, sometimes fatally. Now that is textbook villain behavior. What do you have to say for yourself, Midoriya?” Mineta reached up and ripped the tape from Izuku’s lips. Izuku coughed at the sensation and wet his lips, cringing at the feeling of sticky residue clinging to his skin. 

“Mi-Mineta?”

“Mi-Mi-Mi-Mineta?” The purple boy mocked. “Jesus fucking Christ, learn to talk like a fucking person. You can’t even talk normally. How do you expect to be a hero?” Izuku’s voice cut out, hot tears of embarrassment and fear flooding his eyes. 

“Oh look. Now he’s crying! Now what are you gonna do, crybaby? Your precious Bakugo isn’t here to save your ass.” Mineta’s eyes met Izuku’s. They burned with hatred and vindictive fury.

“I’m doing the world a favor. I’m doing YOU a favor, Midoriya. You’re a waste of precious space. So I’m going to stop you.” Mineta, who had not locked the wheels of the chair, shoved Izuku back. Izuku toppled down the staircase, still stuck to the chair. The stairs jolted his very bones, and he felt his body slap against concrete. The force of Izuku’s fall eventually wrenched him off of the balls that had kept him trapped to the chair. Izuku fell onto the landing, the wheelchair slamming into his chest and knocking the air out of his lungs. He heard the door of the staircase slam closed and his vision swam as he began to black out. 

Kacchan , Izuku thought as he lost consciousness, Please find me.

Chapter Text

Katsuki knew that there was something wrong as soon as Mineta walked in the classroom, Izuku noticeably absent. It seemed that the rest of the class had noticed. He saw Todoroki tense up out of the corner of his eye. Uraraka waved her hand.

“Mineta, where’s Deku?” Her voice was tinged with worry, and an undercurrent of anger. The purple boy snorted, and Katsuki noticed that his shoulders tensed. Mineta ignored Uraraka’s question and walked up to the podium where Aizawa usually stood. The teacher was absent. Mineta connected his phone to the classroom display and began to speak.

“Don’t worry guys, Midoriya,” and Katsuki heard the venom in Mineta’s voice, “Is where he should be. But speaking of that loser…” Mineta began to play a video. Katsuki watched in horror as Izuku, sweet and kind Izuku who couldn’t kill a spider in his room, was berated and called a villain by the purple-haired cretin. The room watched in horror as the on-screen Mineta pushed Izuku away and down the flight of stairs. Mineta grinned at them. The room was silent, eighteen pairs of shocked, saddened, and angered eyes locking onto Mineta with laser focus. The boy laughed, leaning over the podium as if he was joking around with them.

“I’m exposing that traitor for who he is. Don’t worry guys, he won’t be coming back.” Katsuki saw red. He lunged, held back only by a muscled arm wrapping around his waist. It was Kirishima, who had tears coming out of his eyes.

“Let me GO, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki growled. He struggled against Kirishima’s hold, desperation making his limbs less coordinated. 

“You can’t kill him, Bakugo.” It was Todoroki who spoke. “Let him face justice.” Mineta frowned. 

“What are you guys going on about? I’m the good guy here.” The entire class growled at Mineta’s words, Yaoyorozu going so far as to begin creating a capture weapon. Mineta shrunk back, finally realizing their anger. 

“Midoriya’s a villain. Why are you so upset? I have the notebooks to prove it. Don’t you guys know that he has ways to take you down? He’s obviously selling it to the League of Villains.” Before anyone could answer, a cold voice rang out from the hallway.

“Is this really what Class 1-A resorts to? Attempted murder to get ahead?” In the doorway stood Monoma and Shinso, supporting the bedraggled form of Izuku between them. Monoma’s eyes blazed, and Shinso took Izuku’s full weight as the blonde entered the room. 

“I’ve always thought that you were a cretin, Mineta. But you seem to be the worst of the worst. Even I wouldn’t stoop so low as to take advantage of one of my classmates when they’re injured. And if you’re calling Midoriya a villain, I suggest that you get your eyes checked.” As Monoma spoke, he strode forward, punching his finger into Mineta’s chest. “Even I could see that Midoriya doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. You’re the villain in this situation, Grape Boy.”

Katsuki pushed past him, sinking to his knees as Shinso lowered Izuku to the floor. He reached out and cradled Izuku’s head to his chest, one hand darting down to check his pulse. Shinso said nothing, knowing that the blonde needed to reassure himself. Katsuki pushed back Izuku’s bloody bangs. There was a long cut on his forehead close to his hairline. Izuku’s eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow. Katsuki’s heart shattered as Izuku, his sun, lay broken in his arms. Izuku moaned softly, almost too soft to hear. Katsuki cradled his face in one hand and Izuku leaned into it. Katsuki looked up at Shinso.

“You guys were closer than Recovery Girl, and we thought it was better to make sure he was safe, first.” Katsuki nodded, and then turned his full attention to Izuku. He shifted from his knees, gathering Izuku into his arms. Shinso pushed the door open and the two exited, running straight into Aizawa. Katsuki huffed and tore off, leaving Shinso behind to explain the situation. 

Behind him, the class had begun circling Mineta, hungry sharks homing in on a fresh meal. Kirishima cracked his knuckles, and Kaminari let sparks dance on his fingers. Monoma stepped back, happy to let the class take its revenge, when Mineta threw one of his balls into the fray and leapt out the window. The class moved to follow him, but Aizawa’s barking voice stopped them. 

“All of you sit down. I promise you that Mineta will be brought to justice, but we need to make sure we understand the full situation before we start.” Protests rang through the room, and Aizawa sighed before flaring his quirk. The class went silent. Aizawa turned to Monoma and Shinso.

“Thank you for bringing Midoriya here.” Shinso nodded and Monoma scoffed.

“We couldn’t just leave him at the bottom of the stairs.” Aizawa stopped short, all of the blood leaving his face. 

“What?”

“We found him unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. There were purple balls stuck to his chair and his blazer was ripped. I’m assuming Mineta trapped Midoriya in the chair so that he couldn’t leave or fight back.” 

“Mr. Aizawa, Mineta has a video of the whole thing. He showed it to us, saying that he was exposing Midoriya as a villain. It’s...hard to watch.” Aizawa growled.

“Change of plan, kids. Since you all have provisional licenses, you have the authority to apprehend A Class criminals. Hunt him down and bring him back here.” The room was filled with a determined silence as the class flooded out of the doors, pausing only to change into their costumes before beginning their search. Monoma and Shinso followed suit. Aizawa growled under his breath and stalked off to the infirmary.

He arrived to see Katsuki sitting on the floor outside of the infirmary doors, his expression twisted in anger. He knelt down, causing the blonde to look up at him. He grinned.

“The class is hunting down Mineta. I’ll look after Midoriya. You go join them.” Katsuki grinned, feral and unhinged, and ran off to join his classmates. Aizawa nodded and entered the infirmary. 

Midoriya lay on one of the infirmary beds, his head turned away from the door. Despite his stillness, Aizawa knew that he was awake. He walked over and sat down in one of the chairs next to Midoriya’s bed. 

“Hey, kid,” he said, his voice soft. Izuku’s head flopped over to look at him and Aizawa’s heart broke just a little. Izuku’s head was bandaged, along with his arm. From the spiraling bandages that Aizawa could see peeking out of the collar of the hospital gown, he assumed that the boy had broken ribs or that his burn injuries had been aggravated. Izuku was crying silently. In a cracked and broken voice, he spoke.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Aizawa.” Aizawa leaned forward and pressed Izuku’s bangs back with his hand.

“What are you apologizing for, Problem Child?” Izuku sighed.

“I’m causing so much stress. And I couldn’t even defend myself. An-and Mineta has my notebooks and I’m not good anymore.” Izuku’s voice faded on the last word, his throat aggravated. Aizawa frowned.

“Midoriya. Izuku. None of this is your fault. Mineta took advantage of your trust and your vulnerability to carry out some misguided form of vigilante justice. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Izuku sniffed. “And no one’s mad at you. We knew about your notebooks, and whatever Mineta said about them is wrong. You’re not a bad person. None of this is your fault. You couldn’t have done anything to prevent this. Understand?” Izuku nodded, crying in earnest once more. Aizawa rose from his seat and eased himself onto the edge of the bed before drawing his student into his arms. Izuku clung to him like he was a lifeline in a stormy sea. Izuku fell asleep in his teacher’s embrace. Aizawa laid him back on the bed gently and stormed out of the infirmary, heading straight to Nedzu’s office. He would lead his students with the help of Nedzu’s cameras and intelligence. He had a student to avenge. 

In the end, the manhunt for Mineta lasted three days, ending in a standoff at a TV station. Mineta had been trying to broadcast his video for all of Japan to see, but a well-timed shot from Katsuki took him down. The students of Class 1-A returned to campus in victory, towing a bag of bloody purple balls behind them. The police met them there, and Mineta was arrested on two charges: sexual harassment and attempted murder. His case would go to trial in a month, during which time he would be kept under house arrest at his parent’s home. Katsuki had thought that the punishment was incredibly light in comparison to his transgressions, but he had more important things on his mind. 

In the time that his classmates were hunting down Mineta, Izuku ate nothing. After Recovery Girl had discharged him, he had been brought back to Katsuki’s dorm room. Present Mic had offered to stay with him, but Izuku waved him off. He sat, curled on Katsuki’s bed, silken sheets pulled up to his chin. Izuku tore his fingers to shreds. Each night saw him staring at the ceiling, too drained to pace around the room like he wanted to. Midnight and Present Mic stayed near, wanting the boy to feel safe but also wanting him to dictate his boundaries. They brought him food from the dorm kitchen as Izuku still wasn’t cleared to walk around more than necessary. It sat on Katsuki’s desk, untouched. The only thing that he took from their offerings were the icy cups of coffee that Midnight brought, giving him a conspiratorial wink every time. 

Present Mic sighed sadly as he put a tray of food down on Katsuki’s desk. He was worried about Izuku. He had known about Izuku’s struggle with eating, and was sure that this incident had sent him into a spiral. But he knew that any intervention on his part would lead to more stress. Izuku still didn’t trust his teachers. All he could do was offer silent support. 

On the third night, Izuku broke. He had been almost numb since his talk with Aizawa, barely focusing on what was going on around him. But it finally reached him, crashing in a wave that had him sobbing into Katsuki’s sheets, still smelling of burnt sugar. Midnight walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed, carding her fingers through his curls. She tutted softly as she saw the shape of his hands and rose before coming back holding first aid supplies. She spoke as she bandaged Izuku’s fingers.

“You’ve really been through it, Green Bean.” Izuku snorted softly at the nickname, his face puffy but no longer dripping tears. “I never liked Mineta, anyways.” Midnight was quiet for a moment, laying Izuku’s hands back down on the bed. 

“The world feels out of control right now, and you’re holding onto what you can. If you can’t control what’s happening to you, the only thing you can control is what you do to yourself. Sound familiar?” Izuku looked up at her. “I understand. Same thing happened to me when I debuted. Mic still watches me like a hawk when we eat in the lounge, and he follows me around after to make sure I don’t do anything.” Izuku blinked up at her. 

“Surprising, right? Took me a long time, a lot of struggle, to figure out that that wasn’t the control that would help me. Sure, it made me feel secure, but I felt so shitty all the time. I see that in you, Green Bean. It’s hard to let it go. But it’s so worth it.” 

“Does it get easier, Ms. Midnight?”

“Not really. Some days it’s all I can do to force a bite down. But burdens shared are easier to carry. And it helps to talk it out.” Izuku looked down at his hands.

“Talking’s hard. And I…” Izuku trailed off, not sure what to say. 

“It’s not for everyone. Mic set me up with a therapist and it felt like nails on a chalkboard. But it is okay to let others in, to let them help. If you’re not comfortable talking to your boyfriend or to Hound Dog about this, come find me. We don’t have to talk. We can just throw shit at a wall for a while, scream at training dummies.” Izuku huffed a laugh. “Trust me, it works.”

“Thanks, Ms. Midnight. I might just take you up on that offer.” Midnight grinned. 

“Get some sleep, Green Bean. We’ll take care of the rest.” Midnight pulled up the sleeve of her cardigan, letting her quirk flare in the half-light of the room. Izuku’s eyes fluttered as he fell asleep, one hand coming up to squeeze her wrist before it went slack on the bed. Midnight stood up, ruffling Izuku’s hair once more, before leaving. Present Mic paced anxiously at the door. He looked up at her. 

“He’ll be okay, Mic. He’s a good egg.” Mic nodded, and the sound of eighteen rambunctious teenagers, flush with a victory high, sounded out from the bottom level. Present Mic sighed and looked over to Midnight. She rolled up her sleeves and winked at him before the two set off down the corridor. 

Izuku woke to the bleary light of morning and a warm chest pressed against him. The scent of burnt sugar flooded his senses. He turned his gaze upwards and saw Katsuki’s sleep-slackened face wreathed in a golden blaze of light. He smiled softly and pressed his head once more to Katsuki’s chest, content to bathe in the light of his own star. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki sloughed off his gear as he entered his dorm room. He tossed the particulates of his costume to the side, leaving the work of caring for it for tomorrow’s Katsuki. Present Mic had been standing at the door, nodding and moving away once Katsuki approached. The blonde quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and stared at his food-laden desk, before shaking his head and vowing to deal with it in the morning. In the half-light of his room, Katsuki walked in assurance, not needing to look to see where he was going. Distantly, he wondered where Izuku was. He assumed that the boy was asleep, and hoped that he was okay. He would find the green-haired boy in a few minutes, after some rest. Katsuki sunk down on the edge of his bed, starting slightly when his lower back met a soft surface. He turned around, smiling softly at the sight.

Izuku was curled in his bed, one hand fisted into the sheets next to him. Green curls splayed on the pillow under his head and fell across his forehead. His breaths came soft and even, a sign of him being asleep. In the throes of sleep, he looked younger and unburdened. Katsuki reached out and traced the side of his cheek with a calloused hand. Izuku’s nose wrinkled at the contact, but his eyes stayed shut. Katsuki raised the bedcovers and slid in next to the smaller boy, one hand automatically winding around a slender waist. Izuku made a noise in his throat and burrowed into Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki pressed his hand into Izuku’s lower back, grounding himself in the sensation of the sun in his arms. The blonde kissed green curls and closed his eyes, still pressed against Izuku. 

He woke up to half-lidded green eyes staring at him. Katsuki opened his mouth, wetting his chapped lips with his tongue. A hand, one that Katsuki noticed had bandages wound around the fingers, came up and laid delicately on his cheek. Katsuki’s hand came up and laid over the smaller one covering it completely. His index finger dragged lightly over the rough bandages. The slender fingers tensed under his hand. Katsuki wound his own fingers around Izuku’s palm and brought it down to rest in the space between them.

“Zuku, you can’t keep doing this.” Izuku’s eyes closed at the admonishment, his head bowing. “It’s hurting you.” Izuku’s eyes scrunched up in frustration. He knew. He knew that the picking, the not eating, the everything that he was doing was bad for him. Was making him weaker, not stronger. Was holding him back. But it wasn’t as if Izuku could just turn it off. It had been one of the few constants in his life, and the thought of giving it up made his knees go weak. 

“It’s...it’s not that simple, Kacchan.” His voice was rough from sleep. 

“Then tell me. Make me understand why you keep doing this shit to yourself. Cause I can clearly see that you haven’t eaten since I’ve been gone. Did you suddenly just decide to give up?” Izuku sighed, not knowing how to put into words the enigma that he had been feeling for most of his life. 

“It’s safe.”

“Zuku, this is the opposite of safe. You know that your heart could stop, right? You could go to sleep one night and never wake up. Not to mention organ failure, brittle bones. You’re killing yourself, and you’re making me watch.” Izuku’s voice was thick with tears as he spoke.

“That isn’t fair.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Katsuki’s eyes were hard, even as his voice was soft. Hot pinpricks of tears beaded at the corners of his eyes. “I can’t watch you break yourself down over and over. If this is some slow suicide, or some fucked up way of getting back at me, I don’t want any part of it.” 

Izuku was suddenly desperately angry. He yanked his hand out of Katsuki’s grasp, pulling it to his chest as if it had been burned. He sat up, curled over himself. In a shaking voice, he spoke.

“You fucking asshole. Is that what you think this is? Some kind of guilt trip? That’s really fucking self-centered, Katsuki.” Katsuki sat up, angry and with a protest on his lips. Izuku cut him off. 

“Do you really think that I’m that kind of person? Do you really think so little of me?” Katsuki sighed, looking down at his hands. 

“No. You’re not that kind of person at all.” Izuku sighed. “But just...why are you doing this? How can I help you get better? Get this shit off your mind?” 

“I don’t know. I honestly thought that in the past few weeks, it was done. But that shit with Mineta and my dad, it sent me back to where I was. I felt so out of control, like I couldn’t do anything. And I just...wanted to feel in control again. Like I used to. I couldn’t control how people thought of me, I couldn’t control my quirklessnes, I couldn’t control my own fucking emotions. But I could control food. I felt so worthless. I just wanted to be good again.” Katsuki’s heart broke. Izuku curled in on himself, breaths hitching as he tried not to cry. Katsuki wound an arm around Izuku’s waist and pressed him against his chest. Izuku let him.

“I’m sorry, Zuku. I’m so sorry, baby. I was just angry and frustrated and scared. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Katsuki’s head dropped down onto Izuku’s shoulder as he cradled the other in his arms. A small hand covered his own. Izuku’s breath stuttered in his chest. 

“It-it’s okay, Kacchan. I’m...still upset. Like really upset. And I’m worried that you’re mad at me, and that you don’t love me anymore. But I think I needed to hear that.” Katsuki pressed Izuku closer into his chest, shutting his eyes. 

“No, Zuku. It’s not okay. I was being an asshole.” Izuku choked out a laugh.

“Yeah, you kind of were.” Katsuki snorted. 

“Watch it.” Katsuki paused. “I love you, Izuku, so fucking much. I just want to see you happy. I know you’ve been trying, and I can only imagine how hard it is. I promise I’m not mad at you, okay?” Izuku nodded, Katsuki feeling the brush of the other boy’s curls.

“I’ll always love you, even if I’m being an asshole. No matter what.” Izuku’s back shuddered against Katsuki’s chest as he began to cry once more. Katsuki laid them both back down, maneuvering their bodies so that Izuku lay pillowed against his chest. He held his precious star, a galaxy in human form, as he dripped stardust onto Katsuki’s sleep shirt. Katsuki kissed Izuku’s forehead, pressing the other boy’s bangs back. As Izuku’s sobs trailed off into sniffles, Katsuki wiped the tears away from freckled cheeks. Katsuki smiled down at him. Izuku returned the grin, shaky and trembling but there all the same.

“Stay here with me? We can worry about stuff later.” Izuku nodded and burrowed into Katsuki’s chest, muscled arms shifting as he made himself comfortable. Katsuki stroked up and down Izuku’s back.

“I love you, Zuku.”

“I love you too, Kacchan.”

As they drifted off to sleep, Katsuki held Izuku as if he was precious, as if he was loved. And as Izuku finally let go of consciousness, he let himself believe that it was true, just for a moment.

Chapter Text

Recovery Girl had finally given Izuku the all-clear to resume light physical exercises. She had been more than a little concerned over his health after Mineta’s assault and Izuku’s subsequent spiralling, but Izuku had all but begged her to let him be cleared. She relented, but warned him that if he was caught over exerting himself in any way, there would be hell to pay. She had roped Katsuki, Todoroki, and Uraraka into being Izuku’s ‘watchers’ which made sense, given how close they all were. Izuku was too happy about his newfound freedom to be upset at the continued monitoring. She had dismissed him from the infirmary, finally removing the last of the bandages and giving him one final healing session. He all but skipped out of the infirmary, only remembering to calm down his movements at a sharp squawk from the healer. 

Izuku was still benched during practical exercises, but he was happy all the same. He saw Iida standing in the hallway, his familiar arm movements directed to a chastised Kaminari. Denki saw Izuku coming and quickly wiped the excitement from his face at a gesture from Izuku towards Iida’s unsuspecting back, coupled with a devious grin. Izuku bent low and sprang up, his arms and legs wrapping around the taller boy. Iida, not suspecting the surprise attack from his friend, squawked and flailed around, trying to find his assailant. He stopped at the melodious giggle that erupted from Izuku’s mouth, followed closely by an undignified snort from Denki. Iida’s hands came up to support Izuku’s thighs and the green-haired boy flapped excitedly at Denki, who returned the gesture with equal vigor. 

“Hello, Midoriya,” Iida said, looking over his shoulder and catching green eyes with his own.

“Hey, Iida! Hi, Denki!” 

“Izuuuuuu!!!!” Denki leaned back as he crowed Izuku’s name, throwing jazz hands into the air. Izuku released one of his hands from around Iida’s broad shoulders and did little jazz hands back at him. The three laughed, Izuku pressing his head into Iida’s shoulders. As the laughter died down, Denki leaned forward, his hands in his pockets. 

“Izu, my darling, my sweet, my fucking cinnamon apple,” Iida made a high-pitched squeaking noise and Izuku snorted, “what are you doing gallivanting around the school?” 

“Recovery Girl cleared me for walking around. I still can’t do practicals, but I don’t have to sit all day anymore.” Denki grinned and Iida’s pinched expression softened into a gentle smile. “Where are you guys headed?”

“We have practical classes this afternoon,” Iida replied, “I’m sure he’d like you to come and observe.” Izuku nodded and began his descent off Iida’s back. Denki immediately pulled him aside into a conspiratorial huddle.

“Suggestion: Iida carries us to class, using his quirk. Would he be embarrassed? Probably, Would it be fun as hell? Absolutely.” 

“How are you going to convince him to do that? And I don’t know if Iida would be comfortable doing that.”

“Izu, babe. Iida is the Class Dad - of course he would be fine with it. Now, you just stand there and look cute. I’ll do the talking.” The huddle broke, and exasperated Iida standing with his arms crossed in front of them.

“You do realise that I can hear everything that you’re saying, Kaminari?” Denki froze, turning slowly to Iida with an innocent expression on his face. Bashfully, he rubbed the back of his head. 

“Does that mean you don’t want to do it?” Iida pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously fighting off a smile. He looked at both of them, pushing his glasses up his nose. Without a warning, he hooked an arm around each boy’s waist and hefted them both up over his shoulders. Denki crowed a laugh and Izuku squeaked, his arms flailing. Denki grabbed his hand and squeezed, a victorious expression on his face.

“Hold on, you too.” Izuku, still holding Denki’s hand, grabbed the back of Iida’s shirt. Denki did the same. Iida bent down and shot off, his arms still wrapped around the boys’ waists. Twin giggles erupted from the two on Iida’s shoulders, bouncing off of the hallway walls and down the corridor. Izuku felt the air ruffle his hair, shooting stray curls into his vision. Denki’s hand latched onto his, grounding. He looked over at Denki. Despite the elated expression, he looked slightly sick. He was obviously unused to Iida’s speed. Catching Denki’s eye, Izuku stuck his tongue out at the blonde, who responded in kind. Iida finally stopped running, but let neither boy go. 

A high-pitched squeal erupted from behind Izuku. He looked over his shoulder before realizing that Iida’s grip on his waist wouldn’t allow such a movement. Instead he flopped down, and poked his head around Iida’s torso. Class 1-A looked back at him, upside down. Mina seemed to be doing the squealing, her hands pressed to her cheeks in delight. Denki seemed to be copying Izuku’s position. He waved to Kirishima and Sero who were desperately trying to hold back laughter. Katsuki was doing no such thing. His shoulders shook as he cackled, all too happy at his boyfriend’s suffering. A long-suffering sigh erupted to Izuku’s right and he looked up to the upside down form of Aizawa. 

“Problem children, all of you. Even Iida.” Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Iida please set them down. You and Kaminari still need to change.” Iida nodded and lowered Izuku to the ground, a hand on his back to stabilize him at the sudden change in pressure. As soon as Izuku gave him a thumbs up to signal that his lightheadedness had passed, Iida smiled at him and took off, Denki still flopped over his shoulder. The boy quacked and waved as he was carried to the locker rooms. Izuku laughed. 

“Everyone do warm-ups. And please, actually warm up.” Mina just laughed at him. Aizawa shook his head and gestured for Izuku to follow him. They stopped a little ways away from the group.

“It’s good to see you back on your feet, Problem Child.” Izuku smiled at him.

“Thanks, Mr. Aizawa.” Aizawa ruffled his hair.

“I know that you’re not cleared to participate in practicals quite yet,” Izuku wrinkled his nose, “And while I agree with that, I do have a proposition for you. We’re doing rescue training today. I wanted to ask you if you’d be comfortable participating as one of the victims. And before you decide, it won’t negatively affect your grade if you choose not to. Think of it as extra credit.” Izuku lifted his hand to his chin for a moment, then nodded.

“Sounds good, Mr. Aizawa.” Aizawa grinned under his capture scarf. He reached out and ruffled Izuku’s hair before walking back to the class. Izuku followed him, his cheeks dusted with a rosy hue. Aizawa called the class to order. 

“Alright everyone. Today we’re doing rescue operations. You’ll be going all at once, in teams of six. Your goal is to safely rescue as many victims as possible. Plan carefully…” Izuku felt arms wrap around his chest and lift him over a broad shoulder. He squeaked in surprise. The class roared with gasps and growls, everyone stepping forward to help him. Aizawa held a hand up. 

“Because we’re not alone here. The team that rescues the most victims wins. The team that rescues Midoriya gets extra credit. You have ten minutes to plan.” Izuku felt betrayed, even as the unnamed person held him gently on their shoulder. The person bent down and Izuku caught Aizawa’s eye. Aizawa winked at him and Izuku pouted. Aizawa ruffled his hair again before gesturing to the person holding him. The person leapt into the air, soaring through the afternoon sky. Izuku realized that they were at Ground Beta, which was currently trashed. Broken pipes raised like fractured ribs against the cage of broken buildings. Water leaked onto the ground. It truly seemed to be a disaster area. He felt the descent of the person holding him as they landed on a metal structure. The large hands that had been holding him fast to a broad shoulder wrapped around his waist with ease and gently lowered him to the ground. He looked up into a shining mask, grotesque in nature. Izuku took a step back before the figure pulled off his mask, revealing the grinning face of All Might. 

All Might had been absent for the past couple months. He had been ‘away on business’, as the official press release had said. All Might had pulled Izuku aside before he had left to explain the true situation. He had been called by David Shield to come to I-Island. David had apparently - with the help of Melissa - been able to cobble together incredibly advanced healing technology. The hope was that this technology, if nothing else, could undo the effects of All Might’s numerous surgeries and make his day to day life much less painful. 

As All Might had said goodbye, he had pulled Izuku into his arms. Izuku’s head had pressed against All Might’s chest, the inexorable thrum of his mentor’s heart promising to come back safe and hopefully more whole than before. All Might had pulled away and knelt down so that he was at Izuku’s eye level - even in his emaciated form, he towered over his protege - and spoke in a soft tone. 

“I’ll see you soon, young Midoriya. Please stay safe for me.” Izuku had grinned and promised that he would try, earning a good-natured eye roll from the blonde before he left. All Might had only returned late last night, and hadn’t been able to find Izuku. Instead he had found Aizawa, the underground hero taking one look at him and pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. 

“Where the fuck were you?” Aizawa had said. Toshinori had spluttered and began to explain what Aizawa had already known because he had TOLD the man before he left, but Aizawa cut him off before he could speak. 

“Did you know about Midoriya’s eating disorder? Or the fact that his father was abusive? Because I had the absolute joy of learning those two things in the span of a few days after the man portaled in and tried to burn his son alive.” Toshinori gasped, his hand coming up to cover his heart.

“Y-young Midoriya? Is he okay? Can I see him?” Aizawa sighed. 

“He’s alive. He’s almost recovered from that - which happened about a month ago, by the way - but it’s slow going. Especially considering that Mineta tried to kill him too. And before you can rampage, he’s been apprehended and beaten black and blue by the class. So sit down and shut up.” Toshinori complied, his hands balling into fists where they sat on his legs. Aizawa pulled a chair and sat down across from Toshinori, leaning forward. 

“Izuku Midoriya is incredibly fragile right now, both physically and mentally. I know that you too are close, and I respect that. But while you’ve been gallivanting off with your ex-boyfriend, I’ve watched that kid shatter over and over until the pieces are almost unrecognizable. So know this: He may be your protege, but Izuku is MY kid. And I won’t stand for you pulling any bullshit on him, got it? He needs support right now, not someone talking down to him or stripping his dreams away.” Aizawa’s face darkened as he spoke, his quirk flaring unconsciously with the passion of his words. Toshinori paused for a moment, unsure what to say.

“Shota...I am so sorry that I left you to deal with this alone. I should have been here, to help protect him. But I promise you: I will do everything in my power to help young Midoriya heal. He is my protege, yes, but I care for him like I would a son. And my son needs me.” Aizawa locked eyes with Toshinori for a long moment, then nodded. 

“Alright then.” Aizawa had then launched into an explanation of the day’s training exercise. All Might had readily agreed, happy to lend support where he could. As the two broke to head to their respective lessons. Aizawa looked over his shoulder, catching Toshinori in his gaze.

“You hurt my kid, All Might, and I rip your dick off.”

“Noted.”

“Wait, maybe I should have Mrs. Midoriya do it. Wouldn’t be the first time.” Aizawa resolutely ignored Toshinori’s shocked spluttering, a small grin splitting his face as he walked towards the training ground. 

Izuku’s eyes shone as he looked up at Toshinori. The blonde man returned the gesture, kneeling down so that he and Izuku were at eye level.

“Hello, young Midoriya. I’ve missed you.” Izuku threw his arms around All Might’s shoulders with a sob, letting himself soak in the comfort of his mentor and honorary father.

A large hand rubbed at his back in a comforting motion and Izuku clutched tighter around All Might’s neck. He sniffled against the villain costume that the blonde was wearing, laughing when the former symbol of peace stood up and began modeling his outfit. As All Might stepped into a Sailor Moon-esque pose, Izuku fell to his knees at the force of his laughter. All Might grinned. Izuku’s laughs eventually tapered off and the blonde’s grin morphed into something softer and paternal.

They smiled at each other.

In the distance, a buzzer went off. All Might looked up, his face falling into a grimace. The blonde stood up and scooped Izuku into his arms, earning a squeak from the startled boy. All Might talked as he walked.

“I know the point of this exercise is to practice rescue while there’s still an active villain with a hostage, but I think this’ll just turn into a game of keep away. Sorry about that.” Izuku shrugged. “Since we’re here, I figured that we could talk. I heard some of what happened from Aizawa. Now, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. You’re not under any obligation to me to do that. I do want you to know that I’m happy to listen if you need it. I just want you to be happy, my boy. I’m so proud of you and of the person that you’re becoming. Every day makes me more and more sure that you are the perfect successor for One for All and I know that you’ll grow to become an incredible hero.” 

Izuku smiled at him, tears filling his eyes once more. He pressed his head into All Might’s chest and mumbled his next words.

“Thank you, All Might. I was scared that you wouldn’t want me to be your successor anymore.” All Might stopped walking.

“Kid, look at me.” Izuku met his gaze. “I would never change my mind. And I’d never ask you to give up your dreams. Everyone struggles sometimes. That doesn’t mean that they’re not worthy. And you, my boy, are worthy.” Izuku threw his arms around All Night’s neck and the blonde pressed his honorary son to his chest. All Might began walking once more, and the pair lapsed into silence. Suddenly, a loud roar echoed behind them. The two looked back.

In the distance, there seemed to be an eruption. Explosions ricocheted through the air, blasting against spires of ice as leverage. A small figure drew closer, accompanied by a large shadowy figure. It was Katsuki, Shoto, and Tokoyami. All Might laughed before slipping his mask on once more. 

“So it begins, young Midoriya. Hold on. It may get bumpy.” Izuku clutched All Might’s shirt as the man launched into the sky. All Might let out a bellowing laugh as he evaded blasts and shadowy claws. All Might landed, shaking the building. Katsuki and Shoto landed behind him, Tokoyami circling the sky. All Might threw a taunt over his shoulder. 

“Shouldn’t you be worrying about the other civilians? Putting many at risk for only one person is selfish of you.” Katsuki growled, and Shoto spoke.

“Our team is finishing the last of the rescue maneuvers. We were sent to save your captive.”

“HAND HIM OVER, MOTHERFUCKER.” Katsuki let out a warning explosion. Tokoyami landed in front of All Might. 

“Surrender, villain. We have you surrounded.” All Might turned so that he could see all three of them. 

“No,” All Might crowed, “I don’t think I will.” He lifted Izuku out of his arms and, with a quiet apology to his protege, dangled him off the edge of the roof. Katsuki lunged, held back only by Shoto’s shaking hand. 

“Come any closer and this young man falls.” Izuku was rather nonplussed over the situation. He shook his head at his mentor’s dramatics. Suddenly he remembered Aizawa’s quiet words before they had departed. 

“You are a hostage. That means you act as a hostage does. That also means that if you see the chance to free yourself and run to safety, you take it.” Izuku grinned. All Might’s head was turned to the boys behind him. Dark Shadow hovered. Izuku waved to the creature, then pointed at himself and mimed kicking, before pointing at the ground. Dark Shadow seemed to understand his request, because the shadowy creature slinked behind Tokoyami and down the side of the building. All Might seemed not to notice, intent on instead perfecting his villain monologue. Dark Shadow was now directly under him, claws outstretched. Izuku gave him a thumbs up and turned back to the group.

With a silent apology, Izuku wound his leg back and kicked All Might in the balls. His mentor let out a high pitched squeal and let him go. Katsuki, Shoto, and Tokoyami screamed, lunging forward. He saw All Night’s face right before he fell, pinched in pain and terror as he watched Izuku tumble from his sure grasp. Izuku felt the rushing feeling of free falling and was distantly reminded of Katsuki’s words oh so long ago. Take a swan dive off the roof and pray that you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life. With a sudden desperation, Izuku realized that he didn’t want to be falling anymore. Dark Shadow’s claws appeared around him and he was cradled in the air as if he was precious. The creature surged over the edge of the roof. Dark Shadow swooped to pick up the other three and took off. 

“Gotta blast!” Dark Shadow crowed as they soared. Tokoyami shuddered, completely speechless. Izuku ended up in Katsuki’s lap, the group sitting ensconced in Dark Shadow’s claws. Katsuki’s face was drained of blood, his crimson eyes drawn into pinpricks. His trembling hands came up and cupped Izuku’s face. 

“Yo-you…Zuku what the fuck!” Todoroki spoke up next.

“Did you really just kick a villain in the scrotum.” Izuku blushed.

“Aizawa said that I could flee if I saw an opportunity. I signaled Dark Shadow to catch me.” Katsuki closed his eyes with a shudder and pressed his forehead against Izuku’s.

“You’re going to give me a fucking aneurysm.” Izuku laughed softly.

“Sorry, Kacchan. I didn’t know that he was going to pretend to throw me. Guess he got caught up in the moment.” Tokoyami finally spoke, wrapping his arms around Izuku’s waist.

“Midoriya, I am flattered by your trust in Dark Shadow, but in the future please refrain from doing that. The darkness in our souls could consume us otherwise.” Izuku blinked and patted Tokoyami’s hand. 

“Sorry, Tokoyami. Next time I’ll wait until I’m not on the ledge of a roof. But I think I would have been fine if Dark Shadow hadn’t caught me.” The three boys froze, their eyes locking on Izuku with desperation and sadness. Izuku cocked his head in confusion, then gasped in realization. 

“Oh not like that!” He spluttered, “I promise not like that. I meant that I could use my quirk! I-“ Izuku was cut off by Katsuki’s hands pulling him in. Verdant eyes locked onto crimson.

“Zuku, no.” 

“This revelry in the dark is too much for me.”

“Izuku, we understand that you’re a capable person. But may I remind you that you’re still limited in what physical movements you can do. No doubt that quirk usage following a fall off of a building would count as overworking yourself.” Izuku snorted. Leave it to Shoto to find fault in the most mundane of situations. 

Katsuki rolled his eyes at Shoto’s words but said nothing, instead pressing Izuku into his chest. Izuku, his face flushed, moved to say something but was quickly shushed by Katsuki. 

“Nope, your talking privileges are revoked.” Todoroki and Tokoyami nodded, their faces grim. Izuku huffed but settled in Katsuki’s arms all the same. Soon enough they landed, the four stumbling to their feet as Dark Shadow whirled around. Izuku saw his classmates buzzing around, all of the training dummies present, whole, and accounted for. He was suddenly lifted up into strong arms. Katsuki smirked down at him. Izuku huffed. Shoto snickered behind his hand, shooting Izuku an innocent expression once he turned betrayed eyes onto the dual quirk user. 

Katsuki carried Izuku over to Aizawa, who seemed as stoic as ever. He nodded at Katsuki before turning to Izuku.

“Did you really kick All Might in the dick?” Izuku nodded, blushing again. Aizawa high-fived him. He started.

“Oh no! We left All Might there!” Aizawa held up a hand. 

“Don’t worry, Problem Child. All Might is right behind you.” Izuku whipped around and came face to face with his mentor who limped slightly.

“I’m sorry, All Might.” 

“It is fine, young Midoriya. I suppose I deserved it for dangling you off the edge of a roof.” Both froze before slowly turning to face Aizawa. The man went white at the blonde’s words before his gaze turned murderous. 

“You WHAT!!” All Might screamed in a rather undignified manner and backed away from Aizawa. The underground hero stalked forward before stopping. He called out to the class.

“Okay, kids. Change of plans. Your next training exercise starts now. All Might hunting. He has a ten second head start.” All Might exited, pursued by an irate Class 1-A, who had heard the entire exchange. Aizawa turned to Izuku as they left and grinned at him. Izuku stood, absolutely flummoxed. He heard undignified screams and pleas for mercy, and what sounded like Katsuki and Shoto inventing a special move together. Aizawa led him over to a bench and patted his head before striding off. 

Aizawa grinned to himself under his capture scarf. He had heard the whole exchange between All Might and Izuku through the comm unit the blonde was wearing. Not bad, Toshinori. He still took some pleasure in hearing All Might being hunted down. After all, even if it was a training exercise, he had still held his student over the ledge of a building. 

And if he later found the security footage of the confrontation and sent it to Present Mic and Midnight, we’ll, no one needed to know

Chapter Text

Izuku shuffled down the hall, idly picking at his fingers. He knew that he was welcome to knock on the door in front of him, but the thought of doing so shook him all the same. He had never been all that trusting of his teachers - they hadn’t given him any basis to trust them in his youth, and by the time he got to UA, the habit was so ingrained that he trembled in fear any time a teacher would ask him to stay later or to come talk. Too many times, he had been summoned to “talk” about his grades and behavior only to be dressed down and berated for hours on end. 

The door in front of him swung open on its own. Midnight's glittering eyes latched onto his own. She looked surprised to see him, as if she hadn’t expected to.

“Hello, Midoriya. How can I help you?” Her voice was laced with warmth, none of the malice that he had become so used to hearing. He looked down and fiddled with his fingers, an errant nail scraping the flesh.

“Hello, Ms. Midnight. I was hoping that I would be able to take you up on your offer? Um, if not that’s totally okay and I completely understand. You just seem really easy to talk to and I’m kind of scared of Hound Dog.” He looked up through his bangs at her. 

Midnight, who had had her arms crossed over her chest, uncrossed them and leaned forward placing a hand on his head. Izuku tried not to flinch at the contact. Midnight ruffled his curls and smiled at him.

“Of course, Midoriya. Is right now okay?”

Izuku nodded, and Midnight gestured for him to enter. He did, not looking around her office. Midnight placed a hand on his shoulder and steered him to a comforting looking couch. He sat, folding his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. Midnight sat next to him, close enough that they could talk freely, but far away enough that Izuku didn’t feel crowded.

Izuku looked down at his hands, unsure of what to say. Midnight crossed her legs and angled her body more towards him.

“I’m glad that you feel comfortable coming to me, Midoriya. Did Recovery Girl mention anything about therapy sessions.”

Izuku nodded. “She wants me to start as soon as I can, but Hound Dog is a little intimidating.” 

“I work with him and I’ve been friends with him for years. I’m still a little bit scared of him, to be honest.” Izuku laughed softly at her words. “If it helps, I am a licensed therapist, so if you’re more comfortable coming to me to talk, I can sign off on anything that Recovery Girl would need Hound Dog to sign off on.”

“You would do that for me?” Izuku’s eyes shone in admiration. Midnight smiled at him.

“Of course, Midoriya. Now, do you want to talk about stuff right now or would you rather throw shit at a wall?” Izuku looked down, considering her question.

“If we threw stuff at a wall, could I talk while I’m doing it? I’m not entirely comfortable talking about stuff in general, but maybe the distraction of throwing stuff would help?” Izuku trailed off, unsure. Midnight nodded.

“Excellent plan. Now, pick a wall.”

“What, here? But this is your office!”

“Yep. It’s soundproof and durable. I figured that the gym might have too many people in for either of us to be comfortable, and I sometimes lose control of my quirk when I’m really upset.” Izuku nodded. Midnight gestured for him to follow her, and the two walked over to one of the walls. She proceeded to pull a box of rubber balls from out of somewhere that Izuku couldn’t see. 

“Before we start I have two things. One is that I’m not going to make you talk about anything that you’re uncomfortable talking about. I hope that you’ll confide in me about stuff like that, but I’m not going to pressure you into anything. Second is that I want you to watch how you’re feeling physically. You’re still healing, and losing control over your quirk could do more harm than good.” Izuku nodded again and Midnight held out a rubber ball to him. He took it, his fingers struggling to grip the ball for a moment. She grabbed her own and the two faced the wall. As if waiting for a cue, the two threw their balls at the wall, the sharp sounds of the rubber hitting paint echoing throughout the room. Izuku let out a small laugh.

“Feels good, right?” Midnight picked up another, tossing it to Izuku. As the two continued to throw balls at the wall, Izuku began to speak.

“Y’know, I never liked Mineta all that much. He was always so creepy to our other classmates and would make everyone uncomfortable. The girls ended up having one of us stand outside the bathroom when they were in there to ward off Mineta, and there were multiple times that they asked us to check their rooms for cameras. I honestly don’t know how he got into the hero course. He’s really homophobic, and once he mocked Todoroki about his scar. Ever since Kacchan and I started dating, he wouldn’t talk to me. He’d just roll his eyes whenever I was in the room, and once I heard him spouting something about how disgusting being gay is. Ironic, really, because the day before he was going on and on about how hot two girls together is. Like one, please stop. Two, double standard much?” Midnight nodded but didn’t speak, wanting Izuku to instead talk about what he needed to talk about.

“Mineta honestly kind of reminds me of a smaller, weaker, cowardly version of my dad. Mainly in the homophobic department. And I guess in the trying to kill me department. I remember once when my dad still lived with us, he saw Kacchan and I playing together. Apparently what we were doing was too “romantic” for him even though we were four and I wasn’t allowed to see Kacchan for three days. I also wasn’t allowed to eat for those days, but that’s another thing in and of itself. Boy were the burns bad those few days. But it is what it is. I’m just glad that I don’t have to deal with them anymore.” They continued throwing balls at a wall for a while before Midnight spoke.

“First of all, I want to thank you for sharing that with me. I know that talking about things like that can be hard sometimes. Second. I didn’t really like Mineta either. The main reason he wasn’t expelled the first time Aizawa saw him was because his parents had money in the school. We couldn’t take action against him unless we had overwhelming evidence. And regarding your father, did he use food as a punishment often?” Izuku shrugged.

“Kinda? Sometimes it was more of a forgetting to feed me when my mom worked nights, but it was usually purposeful.” 

“Do you think that could be one of the triggers for your eating stuff?” Izuku shrugged again.

“Maybe. I don’t think it’s the only thing, but maybe one of them.” Midnight nodded.

“Oftentimes when people are suffering from a mental health issue, there’s not one particular cause. More likely than not, there are multiple smaller triggers and sometimes one catalyst that sets a person off. Everyone deals with their trauma in different ways. These are called coping mechanisms. Some are really good, and some - although they help the person through the trauma - can be physically and mentally damaging.

“From what I can gather from what you’ve told me, and what I’ve seen from you, food restriction is a coping mechanism for you. It might be a learned response from what your father did to you, or from something else.” Izuku nodded, taking the time to deliver a particularly hard throw to the wall. Midnight did not comment on the small crater left behind. 

“That sounds...right. Every time I feel like my life is out of control or I can’t do things, I stop eating. It makes me feel shitty, but then I can focus on that feeling instead of the stress or the bad sensory things or anything else that’s going wrong.” 

“That’s a very candid and self-aware thought, Midoriya. I think that we should focus on making peace with this old coping mechanism and finding other, less damaging ones to help you when you feel bad.” 

“Kaminari’s actually been helping a lot with that. One night I was crying and scratching at myself because I touched something gross and Kaminari helped me. He called it ‘stimming’ and now we’re stim buds.” Midnight laughed.

“That’s excellent to hear! I’m glad that you’ve been able to get support from your classmates.” Izuku grinned.

“Yeah, they’re really great. I honestly don’t deserve them.” Midnight frowned.

“I’d normally berate your for your self-deprecating thoughts - especially because they’re so wrong - but you’ve had a lot of mental stress today and you’ve shared with me so I’ll let it slide. This time. Next time I won’t be so lenient.” Midnight winked at Izuku’s shocked face. They were quiet for a moment, then burst out into laughter. Midnight leaned against the wall and Izuku braced himself on his knees. As the laughter died down, they looked at each other.

“Thank you, Ms. Midnight. For everything.” Midnight grinned at him.

“I’m glad you felt safe enough to confide in me. It’s my pleasure.” Izuku hesitated for a moment, then ducked in towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist in a hug. Midnight started for a moment, then placed her own arms around Izuku’s shoulders. They broke apart and Izuku waved as he left the room, Midnight mirroring the action. 

Izuku walked down the hallways, his shoulders lighter than they had been in days. He knew that, despite what he had been through, he was going to be okay. He wanted to live, to survive, to thrive. 

That night, in the dorm common room, someone had left the television running on a news station as everyone went to bed. The newscaster spoke out into an empty room.

“We’ve received news of reports of a new supervillain on the loose. This villain goes by the codename Rafael. It is unclear what their quirk is, but it seems to be some sort of persuasion or mind-altering quirk. Rafael has been attributed to a string of suicides in the past few months. It is believed that Rafael preys on people’s natural low emotional states. Victims are said to be a variety of ages, genders, and walks of life, but there are a few similarities. Each victim had documented depression or mental health issues, each person - with a few exceptions - was quirkless, and each person committed the act seemingly by their own free will. If you or a loved one fit these characteristics, please stay safe and don’t travel alone. Each victim was alone when they were accosted by the villain. We believe that Rafael is able to either persuade a person into taking their own life or control them into doing the deed. Either way, it is difficult to classify Rafael as a serial killer, despite public opinion, because of the technicality of their deaths being ruled as suicides. Onto other news…”

Chapter Text

Izuku returned to the dorms feeling lighter than he had in months. He saw his classmates milling around the common room, chatting happily with each other. He grinned at the sight and walked over to the kitchen. Katsuki stood at the stove, calmly chopping vegetables and humming under his breath. Izuku’s heart melted at the sight. The blonde was calm as he cooked, stopping to adjust the heat under the pan on the burner. Izuku knew better than to surprise his boyfriend - they all did really. Too many villain attacks and having to live on the edge of their seats had made them all more vigilant and an unexpected touch could easily end with a knife to the face. Instead, Izuku sat down on the table, pulling his legs up to cross in front of him. 

The two stayed together in relative silence for a few minutes before Katsuki turned around. The seemingly sudden appearance of Izuku didn’t shock Katsuki, but made him raise his eyebrows all the same. Izuku sat cross-legged on the tabletop, his eyes closed and his head bobbing to a rhythm that only he could hear. Katsuki was moved by the sight of him so comfortable and at ease for the first time in a while. To him, Izuku seemed to shine. It wasn’t a burning light but a softer and warmer one. It was like a ray of sun in the afternoon, warm and comforting. Katsuki flipped the burner again and let the food cook as he strode over, his thighs brushing against the ledge of the table.

Katsuki ran his hand through soft green curls, pulling a small gum from the shorter boy. He pressed his lips to Izuku’s pale forehead. Scarred arms wrapped around his waist and he brought his own to rest on the other boy’s shoulders. Green eyes met red. 

“Hey,” Katsuki said, his voice soft and intimate.

“Hi,” Izuku whispered back, his eyes crinkling with a smile. Katsuki’s heart burst, adoration filling his chest and blooming through his bones.

“I’m making everyone dinner. It’ll be ready soon.” Izuku nodded and grabbed Katsuki’s hand, pulling away from his embrace. He pressed a featherlight kiss to Katsuki’s knuckles and stood up, taking a moment to let his blood settle, before walking out of the kitchen. Katsuki watched him walk away. His hands came up, one cradling the hand that Izuku had blessed. 

Izuku wove through the common area, staying on the outskirts of the groups. The students waved at him, only Kaminari coming up to him. Denki simply grabbed his hand and spun him around before grinning at him and walking away. Izuku laughed and walked towards the elevators. He exited at his own floor and entered his room to change into something that pulled at his skin less.

As Izuku pulled his clothes off and exchanged them for more comfortable ones, he turned away from the mirror in his room. He had never understood why it was there, only that it made him uncomfortable. Once he was dressed he pulled on a sweater. It was warm and smelled faintly of caramel and gunpowder. The sweater hung off his frame, and Izuku knew that it was one of Katsuki’s. He held himself for a moment, wrapped in the safety that came with wearing Katsuki’s clothes or being in his presence. 

Izuku’s solitude was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. He walked over to the frame and cracked it open. Katsuki stood in the doorframe, two plates in his hand. 

“Hey, Zuku. I brought you dinner.” Izuku smiled and beckoned Katsuki in. The blonde set the two plates down on Izuku’s desk and flopped on his bed. Izuku followed him and the two laid for a moment, soaking up the other’s presence. Katsuki rolled so that Izuku lay on top of his chest. Strong, scarred arms came down on either side of his head, framing his face and supporting Izuku’s weight. Katsuki’s hands settled on the green-haired boy’s waist. A calloused thumb drew small circles in the small space of exposed flesh. Izuku’s hand came up, his fingers brushing gently on Katsuki’s cheek. Katsuki’s breath caught in his chest, hitching with emotion. 

Katsuki held the fragile universe in his hands, galaxies swirling across pale cheeks. Dark eyelashes fluttered over swirling pools of nebulae. The power of a thousand supernovas lay beneath his pale skin, thrumming with life. Katsuki felt hot pricks in the corner of his eyes. Izuku’s brows crinkled, one starry hand coming up to wipe away an errant tear.

“Kacchan? What’s wrong?” Katsuki’s voice trembled as he replied.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong at all. You’re just so beautiful.” Izuku flushed red, hiding his face with one of his hands. A glittering noise fell from his lips, one that Katsuki recognized as a peal of laughter. Katsuki felt the vibration of Izuku’s embarrassed joy sing through his chest. His own booming laugh, softened by the tenderness of the moment, joined in soon after. One of Katsuki’s hands left it’s place on Izuku’s waist and came up to tangle in his curls. Izuku pressed his head into Katsuki’s chest, feeling the rumbling of his laughter run in tandem to the beating of his heart. Izuku’s hand tapped against Katsuki’s ribcage, a nonsensical pattern that reassured Katsuki all the same. Izuku closed his eyes, letting himself feel safe and vulnerable in the embrace of the blonde. Katsuki’s arm slung around his back, the hand on his head slowly tracing patterns onto his scalp. 

Katsuki tapped on his head. Green eyes looked up into a softly grinning face. Izuku shifted on Katsuki’s chest, crawling his way so that his face aligned with Katsuki’s. The blonde’s hand came up and cupped his cheek. Softly, almost in a whisper, Izuku spoke.

“Can I kiss you?” 

In reply, Katsuki lifted his head to Izuku’s, pressing his lips against the corner of the other boy’s mouth. Katsuki pulled away so that his lips barely brushed Izuku’s.

“As you wish.” Katsuki’s voice was a reverent whisper. Izuku’s hand came up and cupped Katsuki’s pale cheek, his thumb rubbing against the blonde’s high cheekbone. As they kissed, a soft and gentle connection, Izuku felt the slight flutters of Katsuki’s eyelashes on his face. They pulled apart, twin pools of crimson flickering in the half-light of the room. Izuku pressed his head into the junction of Katsuki’s neck, his curls brushing against a pale cheek. A warm hand drifted up and down his back as he relaxed into the other’s embrace. His eyelids fluttered closed and a caramel-sweet voice whispered into his ear.

“Sleep, Izuku. I’m here.” The green-haired boy drifted off, his blonde companion following suit after. The food Katsuki had brought sat on Izuku’s desk, untouched and forgotten. 

Katsuki awoke to nothingness. He floated in a limbo of nothingness, unencumbered by gravity or being. A pulsing white light flared in his vision, pulling him inexorably towards that burning light. Katsuki reached out a hand. Another grabbed his own, pale and scarred and so achingly familiar. In the midst of that blinding light, Katsuki saw a flash of green, burning and gentle. Suddenly, as if dropped from a building, Katsuki fell, his hand still reaching out for the one he knew to be Izuku’s. He tried to scream the other boy’s name but nothing came out. His back hit pavement, the scent of hot asphalt surrounding him. Crimson eyes opened into a scene out of a nightmare.

Katsuki sat on the pavement outside Aldera Middle School. The sun shone and he was surrounded by green, the comforting color turning sickening at the sight in front of him. A frail hand lay splayed in a pool of blood, fingers twitching uselessly. Katsuki’s eyes followed the fingers to a dark sleeve, bent unnaturally and laying still against the pavement. The arm connected to a slim torso, silent and still and clothed in the uniform of their middle school. Thin legs splayed out in a mocking and gruesome tangle. Those legs ended in a pair or familiar red shoes, the laces tangled together, tied messily and with shaking hands. Katsuki almost didn’t want to look up, to know who lay in front of him. He forced himself to, his heart shattering. 

Verdant eyes stared unseeingly at him, one closed and covered in a trail of blood. Rose colored lips hung open, slack and unmoving. The familiar dusting of freckles were stark against the pale flesh as blood drained away from the familiar face. Green curls, usually as bouncy as their owner, were matted and caked with blood. Blood which seeped into the pavement below the fallen boy and spread to Katsuki’s black pants. Izuku Midoriya lay in front of him utterly broken. 

Katsuki fell towards the broken figure, his hands shaking even as he pulled himself forward. His hands cupped the pale cheeks, a thumb wiping away the blood soaking into the skin. Katsuki felt a crushing vice wrap around his lungs as his breath quickened in his chest, heaves turing into hyperventilation the longer he sat. He looked around in desperation for anything, anyone. The people passing them on the street spared barely a look at the two, even as Katsuki clawed at their legs. Katsuki wanted to scream, but no noise would tend itself from his shaking lungs. Katsuki pulled the broken body of his light, his love, his star to his chest as he sobbed and screamed in silence, the blood coating the other boy’s face smearing into Katsuki’s cheek.

Katsuki pulled away for a moment and looked down at Izuku, his heart shattering at each sight. Izuku lay in his arms, still broken and beyond reach, but now clothed in the UA uniform. After a moment, the sight flicked to his hero costume, accompanied by a hole through his chest. Katsuki gasped as the images of Izuku began to flicker around the body in front of him, each new sight shaking Katsuki to his core. The blonde fell back, his hands coming up to pull at his hair. The images wouldn’t stop, searing themselves into Katsuki’s retinas, branding his brain with the sight of the death of the love of his life. Katsuki heard a voice call out to him, whispering the word “Kacchan” like a mocking prayer. The voices turned angry, sad, desperate. They filled his ears. One voice rose above the rest, this one concerned and quickly growing louder. Katsuki pressed the heels of his hands to his ears, desperate to block the sounds. Hands shook him and Katsuki keened, feeling a finger brush against his cheek. His eyes opened and locked onto green. 

In the dim light of Izuku’s dorm room, the boy’s green eyes flickered. Twin nebulae shone out through the darkness, light sparking intermittently. Katsuki felt his chest heaving even as his hands came up to touch the face in front of him. With desperation driving his fingers, he ran his hands through fluffy green curls and down a face not coated with blood. The face of his star peered down at him, unblemished and unharmed and dripping with concern. In the quiet embrace of the night, Katsuki broke. He pulled Izuku down to him, the other boy half-asleep and too shocked to make any sort of protest. He sobbed into veridian curls, one hand coming up to cup the back of the other boy’s neck. 

Izuku said nothing, instead winding his arms around Katsuki and reaching up to brush his hand against Katsuki’s hair. He began to hum, trying to ground the blonde after what seemed to be a traumatic nightmare. 

Slowly, Katsuki’s sobs subsided, his grip on Izuku slackening minutely. The green-haired boy kept humming, shifting himself in Katsuki’s arms so that his own could encircle the boy’s head. He leaned on his arms and pressed his forehead onto Katsuki’s. He shifted so that most of his weight was draped over Katsuki’s torso, providing a grounding pressure for the boy in his arms. He felt Katsuki’s hands on his back, one fisted into his sleep shirt. Shifting his weight onto one arm, Izuku caressed the side of Katsuki’s face, wiping away the tears there. Katsuki lay panting under him, trying to gain control over his breathing. Izuku pressed a kiss to Katsuki’s temple.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Katsuki shook his head, his mouth crumpling into a pained grimace as his red-rimmed eyes shone with tears.

“That’s okay, Kacchan. Do you want me to make you some tea? Or do you want me to stay?” 

“Don’t go,” Katsuki croaked, his voice broken and scratchy. Izuku nodded against Katsuki’s forehead.

“I’ll stay. But you need some water. You’re going to get dehydrated.” Katsuki huffed a watery laugh under him, his breath catching as he did so. Izuku closed his eyes and began humming again, a tune that he knew Katsuki loved to hear. With one hand, Izuku reached out and grabbed his phone. He covered Katsuki’s eyes with one hand as he unlocked the device, wanting to shield the crimson eyes from the sudden light. Izuku scrunched his eyes at the sudden shock of light but opened the messaging app to his chat with Kirishima.

Broccoli Boi: hey kiri are you free?

(Red) Riot Grrl: yeah mido what’s up

Broccoli Boi: would you be able to bring a bottle of water up to my room? kacchan had a nightmare and i don’t want him to get dehydrated 

(Red) Riot Grrl: i gotchu mido no sweat

Broccoli Boi: thank you kiri - the door should be unlocked 

Izuku locked his phone and turned back to Katsuki, lifting his hand from the other’s eyes. Katsuki looked confused, his brows drawing down.

“I just asked Kirishima to bring you some water.” Katsuki deflated a bit, his eyes rolling. Izuku began humming once more, smiling a bit as he felt the tension drain out of Katsuki’s body. Izuku silently thanked Denki for teaching him about the science of deep pressure. 

When Katsuki was little, he was prone to outbursts of anger. Izuku later learned that Katsuki used anger to vent out all of his emotions, even anxiety. Once, when Katsuki had been raging at something, Izuku had tripped and fallen on top of the boy. Instead of screaming and throwing Izuku off of him, Katsuki had melted into the ground, becoming a boneless heap and wrapping his arms around Izuku’s waist. From then on, when Katsuki was angry, he would demand for Izuku to lay on top of him or sit on his chest. Mitsuki had thought that it was the funniest thing in the world. But Katsuki had explained once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that it made the world feel less intense. So Izuku was happy to help, at least until Katsuki had decided to push him away. 

A soft knock on the door roused Izuku out of his musings and he looked over as Kirishima entered the room, a water bottle in each hand. He said nothing about the boys’ positions. Instead he walked over and handed Izuku the water bottles. Izuku smiled gratefully at him and Kirishima grinned back. He paused, looking at Izuku’s desk. Without a word, he picked up the two plates and exited the room. Izuku turned back to Katsuki. He shifted down so that he sat on Katsuki’s ledge instead of his chest. With a gentle tug, Izuku pulled the blonde into a sitting position. He opened the water bottle in his hand, placing the other one on the bed. Katsuki reached out for the water bottle and I uou handed it to him. 

As the blonde took a long drink from the water bottle, Izuku shifted so that he was sitting next to Katsuki instead of on his legs. Katsuki downed the rest of the bottle and heaved a sigh, twisting the cap back on. 

“Better?” Izuku asked, earning a nod from Katsuki. The blonde held his arms out, his eyes shining with a question. Izuku complied, wrapping his own around Katsuki. The two sat in their embrace. Katsuki broke away, one hand coming up to stroke Izuku’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Kacchan, don’t be sorry. You can’t control your nightmares. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Katsuki sighed, bringing Izuku close to his chest.

“I don’t want to lose you, Zuku. And I saw you die. I know it wasn’t real, but I can’t stop the fear.” Izuku ‘s heart broke at Katsuki’s words. His scarred hand captured Katsuki’s with his own, bringing it up to his chest. Izuku splayed his hand over Katsuki’s, letting the blonde feel the thrum of his heartbeat.

“I’m here, Katsuki. I don’t plan on leaving any time soon.” Katsuki smiled at him, shaky and vulnerable. He took Izuku’s free hand with his own and brought it up, placing a chaste kiss to the scarred knuckles. 

“I love you, Izuku.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.” Izuku smiled at him and kissed Katsuki’s knuckles in return. The two laid down, tangled in each other and drifted back to sleep, secure in the knowledge of each other’s presence. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki awoke to the desperate feeling of wrongness churning in his stomach. The world seemed too big, too bright, too much. One move would set it ablaze. Strong arms cliched a slim waist tighter to him. Soft puffs of breath graced the skin of his collarbone. Katsuki tried to rend what little comfort he could take from the feeling of closeness. 

Katsuki’s dream had rattled his nerves, so much so that the morning seemed to hold the promise of death. Morning and mourning, Katsuki mused, two words so similar and so at odds with each other. One held the promise of life, of newness. The other promised only pain and loss. The blonde clutched Izuku tighter. A soft mumble brought Katsuki out of his reverie. He looked down.

Green eyes, half-shut and foggy with sleep, blinked at him slowly. Izuku stretched catlike in his arms and flopped his head back down onto Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki pressed his lips to Izuku’s forehead and tried to beat his unwieldy heart into submission. The blaring cry of his alarm broke the soft silence. A soft groan tumbled out of Izuku’s lips, his eyes scrunched up in displeasure. Katsuki felt the vibration in his chest. 

“Cmon, baby. Time to get up.” Izuku shot him a half-hearted glare but rolled to his side all the same. Katsuki snorted and pulled himself out of the warmth of the bed, scratching his stomach as he walked to the bathroom. He went about his morning routine and came back to an endearing sight.

Izuku had pulled the covers of the bead up over his head and curled into a ball, his head pillowed against his arm. Katsuki smiled, soft and loving, before reaching out for the Izuku-lump and lifting him bodily out of bed. The lump in his arms squeaked in protest and he felt delicate hands thump against his chest before winding their way about his neck. Katsuki dropped the lump onto the desk chair.

“Both of us need to get ready. I’ll meet you downstairs in ten. If you’re not up by then, I’ll drag you down myself.” Izuku stuck his tongue out at the other boy, but nodded all the same. Katsuki laughed and departed, nuzzling his head against Izuku’s blanket-covered one before he left. 

He came downstairs just as Izuku exited the stairwell. The green-haired boy grinned sheepishly as Katsuki raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. Katsuki rolled his eyes and slung an arm around the other’s slim shoulders as they walked to the kitchen.

Izuku, of course, made a beeline to the coffee maker, swatting at Katsuki’s hands as they playfully tried to take the pot away from him. Izuku bobbed deftly around him, coffee pot still in hand, and stuck his tongue out at the blonde before exiting the kitchen. Katsuki shook his head, grinning despite himself. He began to stride around the kitchen, cooking breakfast for the class. 

The sounds of eighteen teenagers waking up assaulted his ears as he worked, Dark Shadow’s familiar cries echoing out as they attacked Izuku.

Kirishima walked into the kitchen, rubbing one eye as he took in the sight. He grinned and walked over, slinging an arm around Katsuki’s broad shoulders.

“Are you making us food, bro?” Katsuki growled in response, one that Eijiro took to mean an affirmative answer. He laughed, a hearty and full-bodied sound. 

“Man, you’re so nice since you started dating Mido. It’s weird.” 

“I’M ALWAYS NICE SHITTY HAIR.” Katsuki began swatting at Kirishima with the spatula in his hand, the redhead deftly dodging his attacks and laughing all the while.  The blonde landed a hit and turned back to his task, steadfastwdly ignoring Kirishima’s complaining. 

“Ya wanna eat? Then shit your trap and help me bring this out.” Kirishima grinned and took the loaded plates from Katsuki’s hand, the two carting the class’ breakfast out to the dining area. Cheers erupted from throughout the room. As they quieted down, Katsuki felt an elbow leaning on his shoulder. He turned to the image of Kaminari grinning at him like a cat with a canary. 

“Simp.” Katsuki, still holding the spatula, swung at Kaminari with vigor, chasing the electric blonde around the common room to the laughter and cheering of his classmates. 

The class ate breakfast together, enjoying each other’s company without the threat of attack. Izuku had wandered off, coffee pot still in hand. Katsuki, noticing this, set a plate aside for him and pulled out his phone. 

Kacchan: where are you 

deku ❤️: oh sorry kacchan! i forgot something in my room i’ll be down in a minute :3

Katsuki sighed. He couldn’t tell if Izuku was purposely avoiding the situation or had genuinely forgotten something. The blonde locked his phone. Aizawa strode into the room. The class looked at him. He stared back, his hands in his pockets.

“We’re having an impromptu field trip today. A hero agency has invited us for a tour. The bus leaves in ten minutes.Because it’s not a school day or an internship, casual clothes are allowed, but bring your provisional licenses just in case.” Aizawa grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘goddamn problem children’ and walked off. The class departed the dining area, excited chatter filling the halls. Kirishima threw his arm around Katsuki’s shoulders as they walked. At Katsuki’s questioning glare, the redhead spoke.

“We should probably let Mido know about the trip.”

“Yeah. But why the fuck are you coming with me? It ain’t really a huge mission.” Eijiro shrugged.

“Wanted to say good morning to the short stack before you hoard him.” Eijiro ducked under Katsuki’s right hook and ran to the stairs, the blonde close at his heels. The two sprinted up the stairwell, Kirishima sliding down the hall in his socks to bang on Izuku’s door. Izuku opened the door, still holding the pot of coffee in his hand. Just as Katsuki arrived, Kirishima slammed the door in the blonde’s face and shouted through the wood.

“Go get ready, Bakubro! You need to look cute for your boyfriend.” Katsuki growled in response, banging his fist against the door. He stopped at Izuku’s voice, melodic even in the current situation.

“It’s alright, Kacchan. Kiri texted me that he needs help with his outfit.” Izuku cut off into mumbling. “Although I’m not sure why we’re in my room.” Kirishima’s laugh cut through the wooden door. 

“Go on, Bakubro. I’ll make sure the short stack is ready to go.” Katsuki sighed. 

“You’re on thin fucking ice, Shitty Hair.” He turned and stalked away, hands in his pockets. He had been hoping to confront Izuku about his absence from breakfast, the churning in his stomach spurring him along. He groaned under his breath and resolved to ask later. 

Katsuki arrived at his own room and readied himself for the day with little fanfare. He exited the room and made his way to the downstairs hallway, idly checking his phone as he walked. A small noise made Katsuki look up.

Izuku stood in front of him, swathed in the radiant light of the sky. He appeared to be a human amongst the clouds, clad in a sweater the color of cream. Delicate hands disappeared amidst the folds of bishop sleeves, downy soft even from where Katsuki stood. His legs were clad in black, the fabric rustling softly with each step the red-booted feet took. Green eyes crinkled at the sight of the blonde and Izuku stepped out from under the arm of Kirishima, which had been slung round his shoulders. Katsuki held his hand out, a finger hooking into the soft fabric. Izuku’s face gazed at him from its place in heaven. 

“Yaomomo made this for me. It feels so fancy for a field trip.” Izuku’s voice took on an embarrassed laughing tone, and he hid his face in the fluffy cowl of the garment. Katsuki gaped, completely losing his words as a wave of emotion crashed over him. “Do...do you like it?”

Katsuki nodded numbly, too in awe to reply. Izuku looked more angel than human, merely an earthly body holding together the power of the stars. He wasn’t just beautiful; he was radiant, a star trapped in human skin. A celestial body come crashing to Earth to stand in front of the unworthy. Katsuki’s hand came up to brush against starry skin.

A shout from Kaminari completely ruined the moment. 

“SIMP.” Katsuki whirled around, murder in his eyes. The blonde stalked forwards, Kaminari backing up before tearing out of the room, Katsuki hot on his heels. A roar of laughter shook the foundation of Heights Alliance. Izuku let out a particularly undignified snort, one hand in front of his mouth to quell his laughter. Aizawa entered, holding Kaminari up by his collar. 

“Do I want to know?” He asked. Seventeen head shook, some still breaking off into peals of laughter. Aizawa sighed and shook his head before beginning the process of herding his class onto the bus that would take them to the hero agency. 

Izuku began to walk forward, only to be stopped by a hand. He followed the arm with his eyes until he looked into the smiling eyes of Shoji. The boy held out one of his arms for Izuku to take. Izuku accepted the offered arm with a smile and the two departed with the class. Aoyama came up to Izuku’s other side, winding his arm around the boy’s waist. Izuku smiled at his friend, tilting his head a little in his confusion. Aoyama seemed to notice his expression.

“Pardon, mon cherie. You look simply amazing in your sweater. Une ange gracing us.” Izuku flushed to the tips of his ears. He stammered and hid his face with his free hand. Shoji’s soft voice admonished Aoyama as Izuku combusted. Aoyama simply laughed and gestured with a hand. 

“Do I not speak the truth, mon amour?” Shoji shook his head but didn’t reply. 

“Kirishima and Yaoyorozu are to blame, really.” Kirishima, after Katsuki had left, had accosted Izuku with fashion. Almost immediately video calling Mina, Kirishima laughed at Izuku’s confusion. It seemed that Mina, Yaoyorozu, and Uraraka had conspired to force Izuku into - in Mina’s words - something that actually constituted as fashion. A knock on the door revealed a giggling Hagakure holding out a bag full of clothing to an absolutely mortified Izuku. Mina had leveled a threat that in no uncertain terms forced him to wear the outfit that they had chosen. Izuku had begrudgingly agreed before promptly kicking Kirishima out of his room, the sound of the redhead’s good natured whining dimming as the door closed. Izuku had emerged a few minutes later, washed and dressed and absolutely exhausted. Kirishima had laughed at the expression on Izuku’s face and promised to buy him a coffee to make up for the experience.

Hearing the news, Aoyama raised his hand and loudly proclaimed, “Dieu merci for their bravery!” Izuku shook his head at his friend’s antics. By that time, the trio had arrived at the bus. Izuku shot a half-hearted glare over to the trio behind his current attire. Mina and Uraraka grinned back with little shame. Yaoyorozu walked over. 

“Is it alright, Midoriya? I was worried that it wouldn’t fit.”

“Oh no, Yaoyorozu, it’s perfect. Thank you. It’s really soft.” The girl smiled benevolently down at him before turning and walking over to the bus. 

The class boarded with little fanfare, Katsuki and Todoroki engaging in a staring contest. In actuality, they were fighting over who would sit next to Izuku. By the time they had boarded, however, the seat next to the green-haired boy was already occupied by none other than Koda. The boy smiled shyly at Izuku before turning to the gobsmacked boys in front of them. Rather than cowering away, as they both expected, Koda stuck his tongue out at the boys. Izuku nestled himself closer to Koda’s side, revelling in the constancy and quiet companionship. Katsuki and Shoto ended up sitting next to each other, an arrangement neither boy was happy about. The bus rumbled to life and took off towards the freeway. Aizawa sunk in his seat and, with an exasperated ‘please don’t kill each other’, sunk down in his seat for a well-earned nap. 

Izuku fell asleep against Koda’s shoulder, the other boy flushing slightly at the contact. He grinned and settled in for the trip. Behind them, Katsuki fumed slightly. 

The class arrived at Endeavor’s hero agency, much to the chagrin of Todoroki. The tour was surprisingly pleasant. One of Endeavor’s sidekicks - because of course it would be too much for the flame bitch to come down and give the tour himself - led the tour, pointing out various aspects of the large agency. The class ascended floor after floor, both marvelling at the incredible architecture and roasting Endeavor for his extra design choices. 

Todoroki walked side-by-side with Midoriya and Bakugo, leaning towards the smaller boy occasionally to make scathing remarks that had to be hidden behind hands and fake coughs. Luckily, the sound wasn’t enough to alert the tour guide to anything, but the class untensed at each suppressed giggle. Todoroki, encouraged by his shorter friend’s behavior, doubled down on the jokes and barbed insults. Midoriya should always be laughing , Todoroki thought. Above Midoriya’s head, he caught the eyes of one Katsuki Bakugo. The blonde narrowed his eyes at the dual-quirk user, then unexpectedly shot him a small and grateful smile. Todoroki grinned back. Obviously, the explosive teen had caught onto Todoroki’s mission, and began encouraging Todoroki, even going so far as to add on or laugh at his remarks. If the class noticed or was surprised by the interaction, they didn’t show it. 

Bakugo and Todoroki had come to be acquaintances, if not friends. Their time spent at the Provisional Licensing extra courses had given the two boys common ground to bond with each other. Their tentative alliance had grown into more friendly territory as the two boys - after receiving their provisional licenses - found a common ground to bond over. That common ground being, of course, Izuku Midoriya. Midoriya had been Todoroki’s first friend after their fight during the Sports Festival. The green-haired boy’s fiery passion and wanton need to meddle in Todoroki’s affairs had drawn him like a moth to a burning flame. Todoroki, in his friendship, found himself desperately needing to fan and protect that dwindling flame. After the talk that Bakugo and Midoriya had had, Todoroki saw a marked improvement in Midoriya. While he was no means okay, and was still very much in the danger zone, Todoroki saw that Midoriya was trying to get better. With the help of his friends, and the unwavering support that Todoroki saw Bakugo give to the shorter boy, Shoto was confident that Midoriya would be okay. 

This is, of course, the point in the story where everything goes to shit. The sidekick led the class up the stairs and through a door marked Roof Access. The tour guide had explained that he wanted to show the students the helipad and airborne access point for the building. Odd, thought Todoroki , I didn’t know that the agency had a helipad. As the students exited the building onto the grey tarmac of the roof, Shoto’s gut instinct began screaming at him to get out. He looked to where Midoriya was standing, seeing the boy tense suddenly. The green-haired boy grasped Bakugo’s arm, causing the taller boy to look to Midoriya.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” he mumbled to Bakugo, signing along to his words with one hand. Todoroki had noticed that Midoriya, especially recently, had a prescient sense for danger. Whether this sense was quirk-related or not, Todoroki knew to listen to Midoriya’s gut instincts. After all, that course of action had never led him wrong before. Then Uraraka and Iida glanced back at the green-haired boy and, seeing his concerned and tense expression, began looking around for the danger that the boy had obviously sensed. Uraraka brushed Asui’s arm. Iida did the same to Yaoyorozu and Kirishima. They spread the message to the rest of the class, each student subtly preparing to fight or flee. The Midoriya Instinct was one that the class was familiar with and trusted their lives to. Even Aizawa, seeing Midoriya’s body language, began to prepare to defend his students.

The sidekick who had been leading the tour stood facing away from the class. Suddenly, he dropped to the floor. Ayoama and Hagakure, the two who had been physically closest to the man, rushed to his prone body and began to check the man for any injuries. Aizawa pushed through the crowd of his students and knelt down next to the man’s prone form. Pressing his hand against the man’s throat, he checked for any sign of a pulse.

“He’s just unconscious,” Aizawa stated, “We don’t know if this is the work of a villain. Iida, run downstairs and get someone. Everyone else, stay on guard. We may need to fight.” Iida nodded and began moving towards the access door that the class walked through. Upon arrival, he saw that the way was blocked by a figure shrouded in purple. They wore a long cloak that brushed against the ground and whipped in the air. Lank blonde hair hung down from a hooded face, swaying limply in the breeze. A booted foot stepped out from the circle of fabric, black leggings clinging to lithe legs. Long pale arms swept the front of the cloak back and pulled the hood away from the figure’s face with long and delicate fingers. Pale blue eyes gazed at the class, leaking tears that looked to be made of ink. The dark substance dripped down hollowed cheekbones and pooled in the recesses of their jaw. A smile cracked the face open, teeth sharp and imitating a smile. The being stared at each student in turn, before coming to rest on Izuku with widened and gleaming eyes. Aizawa walked forward, blocking the figure’s line of sight. 

“Who are you?” The being didn’t answer, instead peering around Aizawa’s torso with manic glee. 

“Ooh such suffering! Such pain!” The figure began walking forward before being apprehended by Aizawa’s capture scarf. The tall man scowled, eyes glowing red. The figure simply pouted in the embrace of the scarf. “Now, Eraserhead. Is that any way to treat a visitor?” In a flash, the figure disappeared from Aizawa’s scarf and reappeared behind him, hands clicking a collar on Aizawa’s neck before he could react. Aizawa grunted as he felt the numbing effects of a quirk suppression collar activate. He whirled around, hoping to knock some sense into the intruder, but they were gone. Seconds later, a heavy pair of handcuffs encircled Aizawa’s wrist. The intruder stood in between Aizawa and his students. He silently prayed that Iida had been able to locate someone to help. 

“Now, dear Eraserhead. Don’t try anything untowards, alright? I came here with only one target in mind, but I have no qualms about saving all of these kids from themselves.” Whirling around to face Aizawa’s students, the figure began to speak. 

“Dear children - and you really are just children, aren’t you? I’ve lived many lives and been called many names, so much so that I’ve lost count. But you may know me by the name of “Rafael”. I’ve been given my mission by a higher power, you see. I can sense those who are at war with themselves, facing turmoil and other such unpleasantries. When I find such an individual, well, I save them. I give them their freedom. I turn them into my own little angels.” The figure smiled, their too wide grin once again splitting their face open. Katsuki stepped in front of Izuku, his hand coming up against the boy’s side as a shield. 

“And today, little ones, you will witness me save one of your classmates. You may be sad, of course, but it’s for his own good. He won’t suffer anymore. He will be free.” The villain stepped forward, and Class 1-A closed ranks, forming a sort of shield around the three in the back. “Oh dear children, such loyalty is heartwarming. But I’m afraid it won’t do you any good.” The figure disappeared once more. Katsuki reached for Izuku, desperate to protect the small boy. Todoroki began summoning his ice. The other students of Class 1-A all activated their quirks, desperate to save their precious friend. 

But it was too late. Izuku whirled around and felt a spindly finger press against his temple. Then everything went dark. 

Katsuki watched in horror as Izuku collapsed. He grabbed the small boy around the waist, lowering him to the ground and cradling a fragile head against his broad chest. He combed shaking hands through messy curls and shook the boy’s shoulders. Izuku lay sprawled in his arms, limbs lax and completely still. Katsuki remembered his dream the night previous, the churning anxiety that he had felt throughout the morning. He wished that he hadn’t brushed off that feeling. He pressed the boy’s body into his chest as the villain shifted, his eyes tracking each movement for an attack. The figure standing over him laughed, a long and maniacal sound, before speaking.

“Oh little one, he’s gone. He will only listen to me now. For the next hour, he is my puppet.” Then, as if to demonstrate their point, the figure spoke. “Izuku, wake up.” Katsuki looked down at Izuku’s face to see the boy’s eyes open and unseeing. Those pools of green, usually lit with the light of stardust, were dark and haunted. Katsuki’s hand came up to cup Izuku’s freckled cheek. 

“Zuku,” he said, fighting back tears, “Zuku look at me.” Izuku gave no indication that he had heard, other than a tear escaping his eye and dripping down his face. Katsuki shook his shoulders, green curls jostling with the movement. “Please, Izuku.” Katsuki’s voice cracked. 

“Dear boy, he can’t hear you. But he can hear me.” The figure bent down next to Katsuki who pulled Izuku closer to his chest, shielding the boy with his arms and chest. The figure laughed as Katsuki snarled at him. “Pity that I can’t save you too, dear boy. You simply haven’t been beaten down by the world enough for that.” Katsuki saw movement at the corner of his eye as Todoroki stepped forward. Katsuki looked back down to Izuku, watching in growing despair as glazed green eyes stared unblinkingly up at the sky. 

“Release him. Now.” Todoroki snarled, Uraraka coming to stand by him with fists raised. The figure pressed one spindly hand to their chest, feigning fear. 

“All of you? Planning to fight me? How is that fair? No, dear boy. I don’t think I will release sweet little Izuku. For one thing, I’d be giving up a big bargaining chip.” The figure looked back at the prone form of Izuku, their voice laced with conviction. “And he is to be saved today. I cannot let your petty loyalty interfere with my holy mission.” The class growled, and the figure held up his hand. “I see you children don’t want to listen. Want to tie your friend to a life that burns with each step. So be it.” 

It was a strange sensation, not being able to control your body. It felt as if Izuku was watching a movie and desperately banging at the screen, crying and screaming and thrashing to free himself. The only indication of Izuku’s turmoil was a single tear that dripped down his cheek and splattered against a warm and calloused hand. He watched as Katsuki, his own pulsing quasar, shook as he cradled Izuku’s face in his hands. Katuki’s mouth moved, desperate heaves wracking his chest. How Izuku longed to hear those words. But there was no noise in this prison. Pale grey surrounded him, filling all but the scene in front of him. Tendrils of pure white began inching up his legs, trapping him in the mire of nothingness. He thrashed around in their grip, desperately reaching towards where Katsuki was. Whiteness raced up to meet his fingers, shrouding them and leaving them numb and defenseless. He wished for control. He longed to reach into his arms and will them to lay against Katsuki’s own. He tried to summon One for All to break the connection, but nothing came. Whiteness clouded his vision and Izuku drowned in his own head as words echoed in the recesses of his skull. 

“Izuku, free yourself. Go to the ledge and stand.” 

Katsuki felt resistance at his chest. Izuku pushed against him, dead-eyed. 

“Zuku?” Katsuki questioned, terrified at what was to come. Robotically, Izuku folded his limbs into a standing position, face going white at the sudden change in pressure. If it weren’t for the quirk, he would have fainted . Katsuki mused distantly. He stood up after Izuku and reached for his hand, stunned when the familiar scarred knuckles grazed against the skin of his palm as Izuku pulled away. The small boy lurched, knocking into his classmates with desperation as he marched to the ledge of the building, towards his death. Sero shot tape at the small frame. Green lightning flared around the shuffling body, burning the tape. Yaoyorozu created a mini capture weapon which fell victim to the same demise as the tape. Dark Shadow swarmed before yelping at the arcs of lightning racing down Izuku’s limbs. The creature cowered behind Tokoyami.

Dark Shadow cried. “Bunny isn’t there anymore.” Izuku had, by this time, reached the ledge of the building. He stepped onto the ledge, clothes buffeting violently in the wind. He turned to face his classmates and stood, waiting for another order. Scarred hands shook, betraying the strength it was taking for Izuku to stay upright. Katsuki pushed through the crowd and came to stand in front of the shaking boy. He reached out a hand but green lightning arced off a trembling arm and the blonde flinched back, burned. 

“It’s okay to let go, Izuku.” The villain walked forward. “You don’t have to suffer anymore.” Izuku didn’t react, the only indication that something was even wrong was a small but steady stream of tears running down his face. “Poor, defenseless, alone. That is how you lived. Even after things looked up, your eyes never left the ground. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s okay. It doesn’t have to be like this. I’m here to save you from yourself.” The villain opened their mouth to speak again, before being interrupted by a bang as the access door flew open, revealing Iida followed closely by Endeavor. 

“Rafael.” Endeavor strode forward, pushing through the throng of students. “Come to turn yourself in?” Rafael snarled. “Release your hold on the boy and come quietly.” 

“I don’t think that I will. You see, my quirk is actually the only thing keeping the boy from falling at the moment.” And it was true. The class watched in horror as, even with the influence of the quirk, Izuku swayed back and forth, face still drained of color. Endeavor growled. He motioned to one of the numerous sidekicks that filtered onto the roof behind him. A couple standing there nodded and exited the roof. 

The sound of metallic clinking rang out as one of the sidekicks freed Aizawa from his bonds. The dark-haired man, not pausing to rub the sore skin, whipped his capture scarf around Rafael. 

“Tell him to step towards us and then release him. I won’t ask again.” The villain ignored him, his focus solely on the green-haired boy. 

“Tell them, Izuku. Tell them that you want to be freed.” Izuku’s mouth moved, but no words came out. The villain snarled. “Tell them. Don’t you want me to set you free? To not be burdened by life anymore? Tell them!” Izuku’s mouth didn’t move this time. He stared blankly in front of him. 

“What? Still got some fight in you, little one? Well, that’s fine. I’ll save you anyways.” Rafael, still bound by Aizawa’s scarf, lunged towards the class, finger outstretched and intent on infecting one of the other children. Aizawa instinctually activated his quirk as Endeavor landed a blow on the villain, both freezing in terror at a small sound from the edge of the roof. Izuku swayed, recognition dawning in his eyes. Katsuki lunged forward with a wordless cry, desperate to pull the boy into his arms. Izuku swayed, reaching a trembling hand out towards the other boy. Aizawa shot out his capture weapon, Sero following suit with his tape. Dark Shadow shot forward. Katsuki reached out, desperate fingers brushing against scarred ones before the other hand fell away. Izuku’s eyes rolled up into his skull and he crumpled.

Right off the ledge he had been forced to stand on. 

Chapter Text

Izuku felt the weightlessness of eternity wash over him. Wind buffeted against his hands and his legs felt cushioned by air currents. Green eyes opened blearily to blinding sunlight, incessant beams beating down, uncaring of what they touched. In that moment, he thought of Katsuki. Katsuki, who always seemed to shine as bright as the sun, bold and present in all the ways that Izuku could never fathom to be. A star in the night sky, burning hot in the eternal cold. Izuku’s own Polaris, a Northern Star guiding him from the darkness into the warm arms of the sun. Katsuki who, in Izuku’s last moments of clarity, had reached his hand out with tears in his eyes and a prayer on his lips. 

He remembered what Yaoyorozu and Mina had said earlier in the day, as they shoved a bag of clothing into his chest. They had said that the sweater was as soft as a cloud. A funny enough course of events gave their words a truthful weight. Izuku’s sweater, oversized from the beginning, floated with the air currents. The rise and fall of the fabric created shapes, images so infinitesimal to be lost a moment later. Izuku wished that the seconds would go by more slowly, even if only to see the pictures created by the cloud wrapped around him.  

Izuku belonged to the sky now. He was water vapor, pressed into the shape of something beautiful by the hands of others. But the rain would come. It was an inevitability. His body was too heavy to be held by the winds, dragging him down in the downpour at terminal velocity. Izuku knew that he was falling. He remembered back to the training exercise with All Might, how the drop had seemed so daunting. How he had wished to not be falling anymore. Now, he prayed that the fall would continue on to infinity. Because after the fall comes the landing. What goes up must come down, and Izuku had been rising for too long with no pull to bring him back to Earth. 

In desperation, Izuku reached for the power that thrummed against his skin, usually a well filled to bursting, and found that he couldn’t reach it. The thread of One for All that wove so integrally into his bones lay dormant, useless and unreachable in his current state. The rain began to fall, salty drops dripping down his cheeks and floating away in the wind. Izuku knew that the tears he shed would dissipate, one last reminder of his time on Earth hanging suspended in the sky, waiting until the memories of all those they had lost condensed into something beautiful, something worthy of being loved and cared for. 

A dark figure cut through the sun, swallowing up the light until all Izuku saw was darkness surrounded by a ring of light. He wondered if a solstice was supposed to happen today, then thought better of it. Dark Shadow would have told him. So Izuku watched in wonder as the shadow expanded to block out the sky, until it was all Izuku could see. The solstice-that-wasn’t raced to meet his falling body, twin pools of fire blazing in front of his eyes. Izuku thought to himself that the solstice had come too late. 

Izuku closed his eyes as the ground rushed up to meet him.

Katsuki’s ears filled with static as Izuku fell away from him. He lunged before feeling a vice wrap around his chest and pull him to safety. He had almost jumped after Izuku, desperate to pull the boy into his arms. Even as Katsuki fought, a dark figure flashed by his side and dove off the building, a long string of murky ether connecting the figure to Tokoyami. In the back of his mind, Katsuki thought back to the training exercise with All Might, how Dark Shadow had caught and cradled Izuku in his claws. Katsuki panted as he silently prayed, hoping against hope that Dark Shadow would catch a falling star and hold it in his claws as he once did. 

A hand landed on his shoulder, warm and large. Even without turning around, Katsuki knew that Aizawa stood behind him. He spared a glance down to his chest, seeing the man’s capture weapon wrapped around his torso.

“Let me go, you damn hobo.” Katsuki’s voice was a low growl. Aizawa let out a sigh behind him, the hand on his shoulder sliding down to encircle his bicep. 

“Bakugo, stand down. Your quirk isn’t suited to this type of rescue maneuver. Trust in Tokoyami and Dark Shadow.” Katsuki ripped his arm from Aizawa’s grasp, but complied nonetheless. Katsuki looked over at his class and saw Endeavor’s sidekicks ushering the students inside the building. Some were too shocked to protest. Some screamed their upset. A few had to be slung over the shoulder of a hero and bodily taken down. He saw one of the groups eyes lock on him and a torso turn to him before Aizawa’s voice called out.

“These two can stay with me.” Katsuki nodded in thanks at him and Aizawa patted his shoulder once more before turning and walking away. Katsuki stood alone on the roof, Aizawa and Tokoyami each in their own world. 

A tense and terrified silence washed over the group on the roof. No one wanted to break the tentative spell, lest it mean one of their own wouldn’t be saved. Katsuki found himself fiddling with his hand, a nail scraping against an errant sliver of flesh. It was almost funny, in a way. He was doing the very thing that he gave Izuku shit over. 

Tokoyami stood near the ledge of the roof, darkness protruding from his chest. His gaze was hollow and shaken. He had hardly moved from his spot since the fall, terrified of Dark Shadow losing their anchor for even a moment. Katsuki walked over to his side. Tokoyami whipped his head around, eyes still lost in the ether.

“Bakugo.”

“Hey, Bird Brain.” Katsuki’s voice was soft, the kind of soft that he had only used when he was with Izuku. “It’s just like the training exercise. Dark Shadow caught him last time. He’ll be okay.’

“Should I not be the one reassuring you, Bakugo?” Katsuki shrugged. 

“I...I trust you, Tokoyami. I trust you to bring him back safe.” The gothic boy’s eyes widened.

“I am honored by your trust.” Katsuki nodded. The two stood in silence for a few moments more. Their companionship was broken by a loud cry.

A sleek dark form raced up the side of the building and crested the ledge with a loud screech. All three heads locked onto the shadowy mass as it descended, circling twice before gliding to hover next to Tokoyami’s shoulder. Aizawa, who had been standing further away from the two others, ran across the roof to join the pair.

Dark Shadow’s claws were curled into themselves, flush against each other and unrelenting. Katsuki was reminded of a dog who had something that it shouldn’t have in its mouth, steadfastly refusing to show their owner. Dark Shadow lunged away from Tokoyami as the boy tried to pry apart their claws. Golden eyes locked onto Katsuki’s. 

“Bunny fell. He fell like in training.”

“I know, Dark Shadow.” 

“Human necks are so fragile. You have to protect them when they fall.” Katsuki felt his heart drop into his stomach at the words. Tokoyami flinched and Aizawa went pale under his capture scarf. Katsuki took a deep breath and walked forward, his hands in front of him as if placating a wild and dangerous animal. 

“They are, Dark Shadow.”

“But I held Bunny’s neck so he wouldn’t hurt. But he was going fast. So fast. I almost didn’t catch him.” Katsuki’s hands shook.

“Did you catch him, Dark Shadow?” The creature said nothing, instead lowering their claws to the floor. Those golden eyes stayed on his as the creature’s claws scraped against the asphalt of the rooftop.

“Come closer, Epicenter.” Katsuki’s eyes crinkled in confusion at the name, but he walked forward all the same. Katsuki sank to his knees in front of the creature’s claws, Aizawa coming to stand behind him. Tokoyami knelt down to Dark Shadow’s right.

“Please, Dark Shadow,” Tokoyami pleaded, his voice quavering,” Let us see Midoriya. I promise that we will help him.” Dark Shadow hesitated, their beak dropping to nuzzle at what they held in their hands. Dark Shadow looked up to Aizawa.

“Help Bunny.” Aizawa nodded. 

“We will, Dark Shadow. I promise. But you need to let us see him so that we can help.” Dark Shadow hesitated once more, then nodded. 

Dark Shadow uncurled their claws.

Chapter Text

A pale hand dropped from Dark Shadow’s claws and for a moment Katsuki’s worst fears were confirmed. Then, the hand twitched, finger pads scraping against the concrete. A tiny moan crept from the hold of Dark Shadow’s claws. Katsuki felt his feet shuffle forwards despite the lead lining the soles of his shoes. Distantly, he felt the slight sting of his knees as they met the concrete below him. Hands entered his vision, large and calloused and tinged with a violence softened by adoration of another. Katsuki watched as his own hands wove through the spires of Dark Shadow to meet a downy soft sleeve. His fingers tangled in the fabric and pulled, an insubstantial resistance melting as Katsuki guided Izuku’s body into his arms. He propped the smaller boy against his chest, one hand coming up to cup the back of his neck. Izuku let out another soft sound of pain as his eyes blinked open and shuttered closed. Katsuki’s hand shifted from its place on Izuku’s neck to cup one freckled cheek, his thumb tracing patterns on the delicate rise of the other’s cheekbone. The world blotted out, darkness sweeping over the blinding flash of the sun. Katsuki looked up to the shadowy expanse of Dark Shadow hovering over the two. Katsuki nodded in thanks and looked back down to the boy in his arms. 

Izuku shifted as if in pain, each movement of his neck and back causing pitiful whimpers to escape his chest. 

Life is a startling conclusion to come to when you’ve prepared yourself to die. Izuku opened his eyes as a beam of light landed on his closed lids. He quickly snapped them closed once more, his nose scrunching in distaste at the sensation. A small, pained sound escaped from the back of his throat as his head shifted. His neck felt as if it was aflame. Something rough but gentle brushed against the skin of his cheek. He leaned towards the sensation, chasing the only real thing that he could focus on. The garish light blotted out and Izuku sagged in relief, sinking into what he realized was the embrace of another. Soft voices murmured above his head, none of the words quite reaching his ears. He shifted his head once more, trying to alleviate the burn that he felt, but two large hands held his head. A jolt of fear shot through his veins, but the small circling of a thumb on his cheek stopped the match from sparking the adrenaline in his veins. One eye opened the slightest amount. Three blurry figures loomed over him in the half-light. Not feeling the earlier sting of the unrelenting sun, Izuku opened his eyes wider. Twin pairs of crimson looked down on him, each so different from one another but drawn in twin expressions of terror. Soft golden light, so much gentler than the sun, filtered through the shifting darkness. A tendril of inky blackness wrapped itself around his wrist. 

Izuku blinked as the image before him became clearer. The burning red materialized into eyes, set in familiar faces. The swirling blackness was laced with royal blue and undulated with barely-restrained power. Izuku recognized the face of his own burning star before the world fell out of focus again. The soft voices were intercut with loud shouts, and Izuku’s world was thrown once again into the harsh brightness of day. Hands touched his facehairbodychestneck and Izuku fought against the burn in his eyes to try to follow what was being done to him. The hands receded for a moment before returning again, pulling and tugging and hurting. Cotton static filled his ears and muffled the world until it was all he could hear. He felt the vibrations in his throat, words clawing their way to the surface without his knowledge or bidding. Something cool and plastic and uncomfortable met his back. 

The movement stopped for a moment, all the hands but one receding. The one that stayed brushed smooth strokes against his forehead. That hand was the only thing grounding Izuku to reality. He reached up blindly, trying to find the person that it was attached to. A jolt of pain raced up his spine and Izuku felt another noise tear itself from his throat. Another hand darted out, catching his errant one and bringing it to rest against his chest once more. The person’s thumb traced small circles into the skin of his hand as the hand on his forehead shifted down to rest on his cheek, brushing away what Izuku distantly realized were tears. The hands looked to be a pair from the same set, and Izuku tried to look up to see his anchor. He caught only a glimpse of ashy blonde before a fire blazed in his neck. Izuku felt himself choking and another pair of hands came to cradle his face, angling it to its original position. One of those hands pressed gently against his forehead before joining its partner in retreating. The flames subsided slightly and he felt the hand on his face leave. He panicked for a moment, before the hand came back to cradle his own. In the blinding light, Izuku couldn’t see who it was. But the hands, warm and calloused and so familiar, held his own as if they were made of spun sugar. Warm lips pressed against his knuckles. In his delirium, Izuku couldn’t place the owner of the hands. He had only snippets of emotions, of sensation. His anchor felt like the feeling of flying, the burning heart of a collapsing star, the taste of victory and hope. Those hands felt like home.

Izuku was so focused on the hands holding his own that he almost didn’t register the placement of something plastic and uncomfortable against his neck. But as his head was lifted, Izuku felt the fire once more. His vision, already blurry in the eyes of the sun, whited out with pain. Fuzzy blackness encroached on his vision. The hands squeezed tighter around his as Izuku was consumed by the fire. 

Katsuki held onto Izuku’s hands even as they went lax in his grip. Despite his instincts screaming at him to protectsavehold, Katsuki sat resolute and still as the medics worked around him. The only thing keeping Katsuki from raging was the rise and fall of Izuku’s chest. It rose and fell in a comforting rhythm, a far cry from the hitching breaths the boy had been taking as he fought against the pain. His world quickly fell away, even as the boy in front of him was lifted onto a stretcher and carried away. Katsuki followed along, doggedly pursuing the faded green still haunting his vision. He barely processed passing his classmates, barely processed anything until the ambulance doors loomed in front of him. A hand grabbed his upper arm and he flinched. It was Aizawa.

“They’re asking if you want to ride in the ambulance with him.” Katsuki nodded numbly and felt his teacher squeeze his arm once more before he was pulled in. The paramedic next to Katsuki gave him a reassuring smile. 

“He’ll be okay. It just looks like a case of whiplash. You did a good job of keeping him calm.” Katsuki hesitated, not knowing what to say, but the paramedic turned away before he could respond. 

The rumble of the ambulance lulled Katsuki into a trance-like state, even the screaming sirens fading away into whispers in the background. All that Katsuki could focus on was the scarred hand in his. A hand on his shoulder startled him from his reverie. The paramedic, who had been doing their job while Katsuki was out, began to speak.

“We’re almost at the hospital. I’m sorry, but you can’t come all the way in with him until we get him situated. But I, or one of the hospital staff, will come find you the second that you can see him. Do you understand?” The paramedic paused, waiting for his answer.

Katsuki nodded and squeezed Izuku’s hand once more before placing it down on his chest gently. The paramedic nodded.

“If you can, the staff will probably ask you to fill out any medical information that you have on him. I don’t expect you to know every detail, but any extra information is useful. In some cases, it could be a matter of life and death.” Katsuki flinched, and the paramedic winced. “Sorry, poor choice of words. What I mean by that if if he’s allergic to anything, we need to know that so we don’t give him anything that could cause a reaction. Same with medications. If we know what medications someone takes, then we can avoid giving the patient anything that would react with or contraindicate their medication.” Katsuki relaxed. The paramedic smiled at him.

“You’re doing great, kid. Keeping calm during a crisis. Have you ever thought about going into medicine?” Katsuki shook his head and spoke, his voice hoarse.

“Never considered it. Always wanted to be a pro-hero.” The paramedic patted Katsuki on the shoulder.

“You’ve definitely got the head for it. I’ll look forward to seeing you as a hero then.” The ambulance doors opened and the paramedic pushed Katsuki’s shoulder slightly, indicating for him to leave the ambulance. He did, stepping to the side to allow the paramedics to unload the ambulance and do their job. If there was one thing that he knew from growing up in close proximity to the Midoriyas, it was to get the fuck out of Dodge so that the medical professionals could do their work. The paramedics entered the sliding doors of the Emergency Room and were met by a team of nurses. Izuku’s stretcher was quickly whisked away through the large doors labelled Emergency Personnel Only. Katsuki walked over to the waiting area and sat down, the vinyl seat under him protesting the movement. He settled in to wait, the only indication of his anxiety being the incessant bouncing of his leg against the floor. 

Izuku woke to a familiar white light. He blinked as the ceiling swam into focus. Voices echoed from all around him and with a minute turn of his head he saw a drawn curtain. Off in the distance, a call light sounded. Suddenly, Izuku was aware of a warm hand holding his own. He ran a thumb gently over the calloused skin and over the ridge of knuckles. The hand holding his own stilled, then squeezed gently. Izuku tried to shift over to look at the person by his bedside, but was stopped by something hard and plastic. A rough voice spoke gently.

“Can’t do that, ‘Zu. Nurses called it a “C-Spine” when they let me back here. I call it a damn medieval torture device.” 

“C-Spine collars support and immobilize the neck when they suspect spinal injury and to minimize movement either during transport or during the healing process, Kacchan.” Katsuki huffed a small laugh as he appeared in Izuku’s field of vision. The blonde sat on the side of his bed, their hands still intertwined. 

“Knew you’d nerd out.” Katsuki’s expression softened. “You okay, baby?” Izuku tried to nod, but was stopped once more by the cervical collar around his neck. He huffed in frustration. Katsuki laughed. 

“Is everyone okay?” Katsuki rolled his eyes, expression exasperated but fond.

“Of course. You’re the one that got injured but you’re worried about everyone else. They’re fine, Izuku. Everyone’s okay. It’s just you we’re worried about.” Katsuki leaned forward, his free hand coming up to trace Izuku’s cheekbones. Izuku leaned into the touch, his eyes falling closed. He opened them once more when he heard Katsuki’s breath hitching. 

Katsuki’s eyes shone with tears, his chest heaving with the effort of trying to control his breathing. Izuku’s heart broke at his expression. 

“Kacchan…”

“Dammit, I shouldn’t be fucking crying.” Katsuki hurriedly swiped his hand across his eyes. He turned slightly away from Izuku, trying to hide his breakdown. Izuku reached out for him.

“Hey,” he chastised, “None of that. Y’know Kirishima would give you a lecture about toxic masculinity.” Katsuki huffed a shaking laugh as he reached back down, letting his tears flow freely. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I... I almost lost you today, Izuku. I was inches away from grabbing your hand before you fell. But I missed. I couldn’t save you. And...and I couldn’t do anything to protect you. I can’t protect you from your mind, from yourself.” Izuku reached out and pulled Katsuki down so that he could hold the blonde. 

“Kacchan, you did save me. You held my hand when I was scared. You supported me and called me on my bullshit. You reminded me what it feels like to be loved by someone, and that I’m not alone anymore. You make me want to get better. Katsuki, I don’t want to die anymore. And it’s thanks to you.” Katsuki buried his face in Izuku’s shoulder as his chest heaved. Scarred hands ran through his blonde hair. “Thank you, Katsuki, for helping me remember how to live.” Katsuki’s back raised under Izuku’s hands. Cradling Izuku’s face in his hands, Katsuki kissed him gently, as if one wrong move would cause the green-haired boy to shatter. Izuku smiled against Katsuki’s lips. 

“I love you, Katsuki,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Izuku,” Katsuki whispered back.

“Am I interrupting something?” An amused voice called from the curtain. 

Both boys jumped, their foreheads knocking together. Katsuki bent over clutching his forehead. Izuku wrinkled his nose against the pain and looked over. 

Inko Midoriya stood with her hands on her hips, snickering. Her face softened as she looked at her son.

“Mom!” Inko entered the room and drew her son into her arms. Izuku curled into his mother’s embrace, the familiar prick of tears at his eyes.

“Oh my baby, I was so worried!” Inko’s voice grew thick as she spoke. “I didn’t know what to think when they brought you in here. And of course I couldn’t be on your treatment team, so I spent half of my shift biting my nails - proverbially of course. But the nurse on your case kept me updated and told me as soon as they were sure you were stable. Katsuki has barely left your side.” Inko sent a teasing glance towards the blonde, who seemed to be doing his best impression of a deer caught in the headlights of the car, his face flaming red. 

“I’m sorry that I worried you, Mom.” Inko smiled at her son and brushed his hair away from his forehead. 

“I’m just glad that you’re safe, honey.” Izuku smiled back at her. A hand appeared at the edge of the curtain. 

“Hi, can I come in?” Inko gave an affirmative answer, and a short woman dressed in a lab coat pulled the curtain open slightly as she entered. She smiled at Izuku and nodded at Inko.

“It’s good to see you awake, Mr. Midoriya. You gave your mother quite a scare. I’m Dr. Saroyan. I just want to give you a quick exam before I discharge you. I’ve been assured, both by your mother and by a very tired looking man in the waiting room, that you’ll have adequate care once you leave the hospital. Mr. Bakugo, would you mind stepping out?” Katsuki nodded and, leaning in quickly to squeeze Izuku’s hand, exited the room. “Would you like your mother to stay in the room while I conduct the exam?” Izuku nodded and Dr. Saroyan smiled before washing her hands and pulling on gloves.

The exam passed relatively quickly. After Dr. Saroyan took Izuku’s vitals, she checked the status of Izuku’s neck. Seeming satisfied, she nodded and stepped back. 

“I would like you to keep wearing that for the next day or so. Your mother can give you the okay to remove it, if you’re unsure. Other than that, you’re all set. I’ll have your nurse print out your discharge papers. If you notice any lingering pain, you can take ibuprofen. If there is any severe pain or stiffness in the neck, please come back as soon as possible. Do you have any questions for me before I go?”

“No questions that I can think of. Thank you for taking care of me, Dr. Saroyan.” 

“It’s my pleasure. Have a good night.” Dr. Saroyan left, holding the curtain open for a few moments to allow Katsuki to reenter the space. Inko stood up and straightened her scrubs before leaning over and placing a kiss to Izuku’s forehead. 

“Katsuki and Mr. Aizawa will take you back to UA. If anything happens - and I mean anything at all, Izuku - call me immediately, okay?” Izuku nodded. “I’ll see you this weekend, Izuku. You too, Katsuki. I’m sure your mother would be very interested in talking to the two of you.” Both boys flushed as Inko exited. She greeted one of the other nurses who entered, discharge papers in hand. Katsuki held his hand out to help Izuku from the bed and they walked hand in hand down the hall to the exit of the emergency room. 

The thing about mental illness is that there isn’t one specific cure. Many stories will try to tell you the opposite, that love cures all. But it doesn’t. Depression doesn’t go away just because you’re in love. Intrusive thoughts are still there when the lights are off. Love isn’t a magical cure-all, some fairy tale concoction that we all dream of. But love is still important. Having people who care for you will give you the support that you need in order to heal. Love is the hand that helps you up when you fall - it doesn’t heal the scrapes, but it gives you the strength that you need to keep going. And it’s in the little things that we find what we need. Big gestures are fine and good, but everyday actions are what make a difference. Encouraging a friend to take a few more bites, letting someone call you when they’re having a panic attack, just being there for someone in the way that they need.

Izuku knows that he will still struggle, will still look in the mirror and find the image wanting, will find food to be the enemy, will find himself on a different rooftop in a different time. But having his classmates by his side, supporting him and wanting him to be happy, will make the task of living a little less daunting. Izuku, his hand still entwined in Katsuki’s, knows that whatever the world may give him, he won’t be alone anymore.