Chapter Text
Katsuki returns home a little before noon, sweaty and dirty after his usual weekend training. His muscles ache soothingly and the ever-constant tingle in his palms has subsided somewhat after letting loose many blasts in the morning.
He throws his duffel bag on the couch and yells, "Oi! Old hag! Get me something to eat!"
"Make something yourself you brat! I'm busy." His mother's loud reply comes from upstairs.
Grumbling under his breath, Katsuki swings open the fridge and pulls out some yoghurt. It will have to do, he doesn't have the patience to cook something right now.
Scooping some of it in his mouth, he climbs up the stairs and throws open his bedroom door. Closing it shut, he bounces onto his bed and let's his muscles relax.
He's not in a particularly good mood right now, not that he ever is really, but today it's even worse than usual. Some shitty show is going to show some documentary on the quirkless losers and everyone around him can't seem to shut up about it.
It's fucking stupid. It's not like they care about the quirkless people anyway, the show is just hyping them for no reason at all. And ofcourse, it's even more infuriating that that deku was all smiley yesterday, muttering continuously about the telecast, excited yet nervous about god knows what.
It's grating on his nerves and he just wants to fucking nap in peace but the curiosity is a raging inferno inside him and he can't help but look at the clock, making sure that the show hasn't begun already. It's 12:13 pm and it starts at 1.
Well, maybe, he will just fall asleep afterall.
(Or just take a quick look at what all this is about, he might get a good laugh out of it.)
Katsuki eats his yoghurt. More aggressively this time.
~~~
15 minutes to go.
Izuku chants in his head as he wipes his sweaty palms on his pants. He's nervous and rightfully so. He is, in all honesty, going to be exposed in front of so many people. It's unfathomable for him, surreal and most importantly, frightening.
Opening upto the world will also mean opening up himself to people's scrutiny and their opinions, kind and harsh alike.
What if they take him for a weakling?
What if they don't think he has any potential?
What if they stereotype against the quirkless now that they have a proper example?
(Not that stereotypes against them don't run wild anyway).
"Izuku, baby, it'll be alright. Just relax okay?" Inko's calming voice washes over Izuku's torrent of worries, grounding him somewhat.
He manages to smile for her, and nods, "Yeah, it'll be fine."
It's just the two of them, hands intertwined, waiting for the display of Izuku's life. Mr and Mrs.Takahashi had invited the two to their main headquarters for a joint-viewing in a theatre like setting which Izuku had politely refused to, saying that he'd rather not be anymore vulnerable to strangers than he already will be during the broadcast. Mrs. Takahashi had understood and thanked Izuku for his bravery and his courage.
Izuku still doesn't know what's so brave or courageous about what he did.
But Inko does so she squeezes Izuku's hand tightly as the starting song plays and fills the room. It's a little obnoxious and over-the-top but it does it's job which is,
Gaining people's attention.
A lady who looks like the embodiment of prim and proper, sits behind a full length desk, covering just a part of the large wall screen that's behind her.
Izuku takes a huge breath.
The lady speaks.
~~~
"--goal to show all of you what really goes down with those collectively deemed to be at the bottom of society's hierarchy. The quirkless."
Katsuki snorts. What a load of bullcrap. This dumb bitch makes it sound like the quirked people were doing shitty stuff to the quirkless without provocation.
Didn't deku always do shit to deserve the treatment he got?
Didn't he always get on people's nerves on purpose?
Countless incidences of deku being bullied just because he was sitting on his desk flash through Katsuki's mind.
Whatever, it can't be that bad.
The lady stops talking now, seemingly done with her introductory speech. Now, some no-name quirkless person's life will be shown.
Won't that be some awful entertainment?
But when the screen goes black and a shaky image of a building's gate- deku's building gate- shows up on his laptop screen, Katsuki stills.
No, it's not possible. That shitty nerd won't dare to do such a thing. He won't ever make such a move.
And yet, yet he hears deku's voice as he greets a random old man as he passes on the road.
Anger boils within Katsuki. How dare that damn nerd try to- try to stand up for himself.
Afterall, isn't that what this show is about?
Rising against Oppression.
He laughs bitterly. Oppression. Yeah, right.
In the back of his head, Katsuki knows he's not truly angry right now. No.
He's scared.
Because this shit is live already, with millions of viewers and if, and if, by any chance this day is one where he'd bullied deku, it'll all be shown to the world.
Neither of his parents know what's become of Izuku and Katsuki's friendship now.
They don't know there isn't a friendship anymore.
Katsuki grips his laptop and restrains himself from not throwing it across the room.
Instead, he watches. He sees, for the first time in his life. Dread creeping into his very soul as deku approaches their school and Aldera comes into view in all its plain and boring glory before his eyes.
What day is it? Yesterday? The day before? Last week?
Dammit, he needs to know.
The footage is still shaky and muffled breaths can be heard as Izuku climbs the stairs and stands before the classroom door. He opens it up and walks towards his usual place.
Only, he takes a detour instead.
He goes to Katsuki's desk and pulls his backpack onto one shoulder and opens the zip.
Katsuki's breath hitches.
No. It can't be. This is a joke. Some sick, convoluted prank.
Because as it turns out, his secret admirer who gives him the best gift each year, whom Katsuki somewhat appreciates in a tiny corner of his mind, is none other than deku. Fucking deku.
The camera is briefly covered by deku's shirt as he bends to put the box under his desk.
And maybe it's fitting that Katsuki's mind remembers something.
A few words. A promise broken by one. Remembered by the other.
"We'll always give each other gifts!" an excited child with unruly green hair exclaims.
"And always be by each others side for our birthdays!" He continues.
Another boy, with a big grin and spiky blond hair raises his fist in the air, "Always!"
Katsuki feels something curl deep in his gut. He had forgotten that promise, those words. He had forgotten how he saw deku before- before he was declared quirkless. How things changed so fast, so drastically, he never had the chance to look back and wonder when things had gone so wrong.
Another thing nags him as deku's ramblings fills his ears. Why the fuck does the nerd still care? Why in the seven hells would he still get him a gift even after Katsuki hadn't even wished deku on his birthday.
Contrary to what deku might believe, Katsuki remembered the nerd's birthday but he didn't think it important to wish him or anything. And that's what makes this whole situation even worse.
Would it that big of a pain if Katsuki had just said a simple happy birthday to deku?
The scene cuts abruptly, and another time of that day is showcased. This time it's a lecture with their English teacher distributing their test sheets, graded ones.
Katsuki had been ranked first, as usual. With only one answer wrong.
A paper comes into view and Katsuki snorts at the messy scrawl of deku's handwriting. But soon that snort turns into a frown when he sees how blatantly their teacher had sabotaged deku's work.
A quick look tells him that all of deku's answers were infact, right. Only, their teacher had struck out almost 5 of those right answers and written big, fat zeroes beside them as if that made them wrong.
So,
What the actual fuck?
Katsuki ignores the little wound his pride receives knowing that he hadn't been the best, not when deku had outdone him only for his shitty teacher to go and pull a stunt like this.
Instead, something akin to righteous anger bubbles inside him, wondering how many times had deku's work been unjustly graded and how many times was he at the bottom of the class even though Katsuki knew that intelligence was something deku had in abundance if nothing else.
How many times had Katsuki chosen to remain ignorant, basking in the pride he received when he was no.1 in academics?
Plenty. Plenty of times.
Two small yet scarred hands clutch the paper on the screen, and Katsuki guesses deku is angry too. But deku doesn't say anything. Soon, the screen shows his asshole teacher writing something on the board and so the class continues and ends.
Katsuki remembers this too. Getting up and leaving the the class only to see deku lingering behind and now he knows why the nerd had not left with the rest of the class.
Deku walks upto the teacher, and hesitantly asks, "Uh, Mr. Kotaru, sir?"
The irritated face of the man agitates Katsuki though he doesn't know why.
"Midoriya. What do you want now?"
A jerky movement of the camera. A flinch.
"Um...I just wanted to say that I think there's been some error in my test correction? Some answers are right-"
Mr. Kotaru kicks his desk in annoyance, "There you go again. Spewing lies and slandering me and my diligent work," he clicks his tongue, "why do you always do this?"
Heavy breaths flood through the speakers and Katsuki wonders if deku is having some sort of panic attack. He still can't believe the audacity of his teacher.
Katsuki always thought that deku did lie often, that's what the teachers kept repeating anyway. He never cared enough to cross-check and made convenient opinions about deku in his head.
Herd mentality.
Katsuki had fallen in its trap.
"Uh sorry, sir. I'll- I'll go." Deku mutters, and snatches his backpack, running out of the class.
Katsuki bites his lip, this is all over already. He can't go into the screen and beat that teacher's ass to hell and back.
~~~
Inko Midoriya is an emotional person. She feels freely and she feels deeply.
A crybaby.
People call her and her son that. But she doesn't care.
She lets the tears fall freely at the unjust treatment her son receives on the daily. She knows something of the sort was happening, she'd tried to question Izuku before, about why his grades were so erratic, about why he was failing some tests she knows he shouldn't. He always brushed her off, making some random excuse.
And she didn't try to dig further.
She cries and Izuku wraps a comforting hand around her shoulders, drawing her closer, protecting her already from something yet to come.
Something far worse than an unfair grading.
Inko Midoriya prepares herself.
She will see this through. Even with tear-filled eyes and blurry vision.
She has to.
For Izuku.