Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the world of quirks, those born without are at an innate disadvantage. Quirkless individuals have naturally smaller builds and slightly different bone structures. Quirkless individuals are also more susceptible to sickness. The Quirkless immune system is much weaker than that of their quirk counterparts. Quirkless individuals are at higher risk of developing terminal illnesses such as cancer or mental health issues such as depression and anxiety. However, it must be stated: the Quirkless are not weak because of this. Their genetic makeup simply puts them at an admittedly large disadvantage in the world of quirks. 

The world of the quirkless was one that was familiar to Izuku Midoriya. Despite technically having a quirk, Izuku was still a biologically quirkless person. His extra toe joint and naturally smaller figure were testaments to this fact. Despite this fact, Izuku tried to live his life to the best of his ability. He played with the other children in his neighborhood and did his best to keep up with the loud and volatile Katsuki Bakugo.

At five years old, Katsuki knew three things. One was that he would be the best hero in the world. Two was that Izuku Midoriya was quirkless. Three was that Katsuki would protect Izuku from anything and anyone, and one day he would marry Izuku Midoriya. The two boys had been practically joined at the hip since birth, and Katsuki couldn’t see his life going in any way except one that pointed inexorably towards Izuku Midoriya. He had proclaimed this love in front of the world (their parents). Nothing in the world could separate the two from each other, or so Katsuki believed. This would all change one summer’s day.

Izuku had been out of school and sick for a few days now. Katsuki wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he was worried. It wasn’t like his friend to miss so much school. On the third night of his absence, Katsuki had had enough. He marched over to where his parents were sitting in the living room.

“When is Deku coming back to school?” He demanded. Mitsuki and Masaru looked at each other. Katsuki growled at the lack of answer. “Well!” 

Mitsuki sighed, looking down at her hands. Masaru enveloped her smaller hand in his larger ones, nodding slightly at her.

“It won’t do any good to hide it from him. He’ll find out one way or the other.” Masaru spoke softly, his words conveying an emotion that Katsuki couldn’t quite place, but left him feeling unnerved. His hands, originally balled into fists, began to tremble.

“Katsuki,” Mistuki started, “Izuku is in the hospital right now.” 

Katsuki’s world crumbled under his feet. Beautiful, sweet, kind, fragile Izuku was in the hospital. Katsuki’s whole body trembled, tears rising unbidden to his crimson eyes. His breath came in small, short gasps.

 “The, the hospital?” His voice shook as he spoke. “What…” 

Mitsuki slid off of the couch that she was sitting on, coming to rest on her knees in front of Katsuki. 

“Izuku is really, really sick right now. Auntie Inko took him to the hospital so the doctors could help him.” At his mother’s words, Katsuki fell into a sitting position. Mitsuki quickly pulled her son into her lap, Masaru joining them moments later. Katsuki cried in earnest, for once letting himself be vulnerable in the arms of his parents. 

“Is...is Deku gonna die?” The eldest Bakugos looked to each other, unsure of how to answer the question. They wanted to give their son a reassuring answer, one that promised Izuku’s wellbeing. But realistically, there was no guarantee. Izuku was suffering from an aggressive form of cancer, and he was an already small boy. His odds of survival were lower than any of the parents had hoped. Masaru broke the silence first.

“It’s going to be hard, but you know that Izuku is super strong. We have to do our best to support him. Think you can do that, Katsuki?” The blonde nodded vehemently.

“I’ll protect him from those damn germs. They messed with the wrong person.” Mitsuki and Masaru laughed, not admonishing Katsuki for his language. They were happy to see their son so determined. 

“Why don’t we visit Izuku tomorrow, sweetie? I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.” Katsuki yelled in delight before running off. He was going to make Izuku the best card ever - it would be the best because Katsuki would be making it. Izuku’s lungs wouldn’t know what hit him. 

In the morning, Katsuki could hardly eat with how excited he was to see Izuku. Mitsuki laughed as they entered the hospital doors, but pulled Katsuki aside all the same. Katsuki looked up at his mother, a determined expression on his face. 

“Okay, Katsuki. Are you ready? Do you have your card for Izuku?” The boy nodded, knowing better than to yell his excitement in the waiting room. His hands clenched the homemade card, careful not to crumple it in his excitement. Mitsuki nodded.

“Remember, Katsuki. Izuku is really sick. He’s not contagious, but we need to be really careful and gentle with him, okay? No. Quirk. Gentle hands, alright?” Katsuki rolled his eyes but nodded all the same. The trio walked to the indicated room, nurses cooing at the sight of little Katsuki holding his card. The staff could tell that the young boy was a visitor rather than a patient, but seeing his enthusiasm at visiting his friend lifted their spirits. They turned into the room and were greeted by Inko Midoriya waving at them. Mitsuki rushed over and drew her friend into a hug, silently offering the smaller woman support. Katsuki quickly looked away from the display, bored by adult affection. His eyes landed on green ones. 

“Kacchan!” Izuku didn’t yell, but his excitement was palpable all the same. Katsuki ran to the bed his friend was sitting on and he stopped short, patting his hands on the bed in his excitement. His excitement dulled, however, when he saw the state that his friend was in. 

Izuku had always been a small child, but the hospital bed dwarfed him. His tiny arms had wires and tubing flying out of them, all leading to machines or medical bags. Izuku’s bones seemed to protrude slightly more than usual. His green eyes, usually bright and lively, were tired and surrounded by purple bags. A small tube crossed his face under his nose and looped behind his ears. Despite this, Izuku smiled brightly at the sight of his friend. 

“Hey, Zuku!” Katsuki hadn’t called Izuku ‘Zuku’ since before he had developed his quirk, referring to him as Deku instead. But Katsuki was so shocked at Izuku’s appearance that it had slipped out. Izuku noticed, and his smile dimmed a little, but shot back up as he turned to his mother. 

“Mama, can Kacchan sit up here with me?” Inko’s eyes, which had been tightened in concern and sorrow, softened at the excitement from her son. He had been so morose as of late, especially with his confinement to the hospital following a particularly bad coughing fit that had him spitting blood into his shaking hands. Inko smiled and nodded. Izuku cheered softly and turned to his friend, the question of whether Katsuki would join him clear in his eyes. With a confirming nod - and a mouthed ‘be gentle’ - from his mother, Katsuki climbed up onto the tall bed and sat next to Izuku. He threw his arms around the fragile frame and Izuku melted into his side, soaking up the heat that Katsuki radiated. His eyes closed in bliss as he nuzzled against Katsuki’s little neck. 

“Kacchan’s so warm. He’s the best friend ever.” Katsuki grinned down at his friend.

“Hell yeah, Zu. I’ll keep you warm. You don’t have enough blankets.” He made a mental note to ask his mother to let him give Izuku a blanket next time he visited and curled around Izuku. Izuku’s tiny hand held a book in it. The small boy looked up at his friend, already towering over him at only five. 

“Will you read to me, Kacchan?” Katsuki huffed.

“I know you can read, Zu. Why are you asking me?” Izuku paused, then looked down at his hands. Despite Katsuki’s softer tone, the words still embarrassed the smaller boy.

“My head hurts when I try to read the words.” Katsuki nodded, already regretting his words. He knew that Izuku was extremely smart. The boy had been reading novels when their kindergarten class had still been on picture books. Katsuki should have known that Izuku’s request was due to his condition rather than any intellectual inability on his part. He reached over and plucked the book out of Izuku’s hand.

“Close your eyes, nerd. I’ve got you. Want me to start at the beginning?” Izuku nodded, then buried his head into Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki’s little hand stroked down Izuku’s spine, the boy feeling the knobs of each vertebrate under his fingers. He began reading. 

“In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit…”. As Katsuki read on, Izuku melted into his touch, sucking up any warmth that he could leech from the boy next to him. Katsuki ended up actually pulling his friend to sit in his lap, legs tangled and one little arm wrapped around a frail chest. Despite what his mother said, he used his quirk. Not enough to actually set off any explosions, but enough to warm his hands. He rubbed Izuku’s chest and stomach, eliciting a tiny moan of delight from the boy in his lap. Katsuki guessed that his chest and stomach were hurting, and thought that heat would help. Izuku fell asleep in his grasp and, once Katsuki noticed the soft and even breaths coming from his friend, placed a bookmark in the pages. He knew that Izuku would kill him for dog-earing his novel, and he rather liked staying alive, thank you very much. 

Katsuki wrapped his other arm around Izuku’s chest and buried his head in the soft curls, thinner and more ragged than they had been. Eventually, Katsuki fell asleep as well. He woke hours later in his own room. His mother had left a note by his bed. 

You fell asleep at the hospital and we took you home. I’ll make you some dinner when you wake up. 

It quickly became a routine for the two boys. Every few days, Katsuki would go to the hospital and read to Izuku. The other boy couldn’t play games, and Katsuki found that he liked holding the green-haired boy in his arms. They made their way through trilogies and sagas, following fantastical characters having even more fantastical adventures. One day, Katsuki whispered into Izuku’s ear.

“When you get out of here, I’ll take you on an adventure. But no trolls. They stink.” Izuku giggled, before breaking into a coughing fit. His hands came back stained red, and Katsuki clutched the small boy just a bit tighter. 

“Promise, Kacchan?”

“Promise.” 

It would be years before Katsuki kept his promise, though. And a year would pass before the boys could even see each other again. The next time that Katsuki and his mother went to visit the hospital, the doctor stopped them. 

“I’m sorry, but little Izuku can’t have visitors. His treatment has seriously weakened his immune system, and he needs to be isolated for a while. I can tell him that you were here, though. I’m sure he would appreciate hearing this.” Mistuki gasped, and Katsuki froze. Angry tears filled his eyes and he tore his hand out of his mother’s grasp, the book that he had promised to read to Izuku falling to the floor. 

“Katsuki!” His mother yelled, but he stormed off, running to their car and slamming the door before the floodgates opened. If Izuku couldn’t have visitors, then it meant that Izuku was sick enough that anything could hurt him just by being near him. Izuku was going to die, and there wasn’t anything Katsuki could do about it. Katsuki’s breath came in short gasps and high keening noises fell from his lips. He was useless, worthless, a good for nothing that couldn’t even save his friend. 

Mitsuki wrenched open the car door, a lecture on her tongue, before she saw the sight of her son sobbing on the leather seats. She slid into the car and drew him into her lap. She didn’t speak, knowing that words weren’t what Katsuki needed right now. Her hand drew comforting patterns up and down his back as he sobbed his heart out, eventually falling asleep. 

Katsuki woke up once more in his own bedroom, for once feeling like the world was crushing him. He stared up at the ceiling, heart dropping to the floor. Mitsuki walked in. He looked at his mother.

“I’m going to get stronger,” he said, “strong enough that Deku won’t have to worry about any dumb germs hurting him cause I won’t let that happen. I promise.” And stronger he did get. But at what cost?

After a year of treatment, Izuku was finally deemed in remission and allowed to go to school again. Luckily, he was able to keep up with his assignments. Unfortunately for him, everything had changed. In his absence, Katsuki had become more aggressive and brash and less like the sweet boy that Izuku had known. The torment started and didn’t end until Izuku and Katsuki fought at Ground Beta. 

One night, during their house arrest, Katsuki walked up to Izuku and silently placed his large hand over Izuku’s chest. 

“K-kacchan?” Izuku squeaked. Katsuki huffed a small breath and withdrew his hand.

 “Is it still there?” Izuku’s head tilted in confusion, before realization hit him. His eyes widened. 

“Oh no, Kacchan. I’ve been in remission for years.” Huffing a quiet laugh to himself, he added, “Honestly, I didn’t think you would remember that.”

“Of course I did, damn nerd.” Izuku smiled softly at him, and Katsuki turned away, stomping back to where he had been cleaning. He hadn’t known that Katsuki even remembered their time in the hospital, or holding him up so that he could breathe. But the thought of Katsuki remembering, let alone caring enough to ask after his health, left Izuku a bit breathless with a heat rising to his cheeks. 

Despite their rocky start at UA, Katsuki and Izuku became friends once more. They didn’t have the closeness that they did as children, and could never go back to how they had been, not with their history. But the familiarity of being around each other was enough. Katsuki had kept his promise, at least in part. He was stronger now. He could protect Izuku. But would his protection be enough? 

Chapter Text

Dark Shadow had taken an immense liking to Izuku, much to Tokoyami’s embarrassment.

The creature loved cradling Izuku in his claws. The two would often be seen together, Tokoyami Being dragged along for the ride. Dark Shadow was actually a quite incredible creature, in Izuku’s eyes. They had all the intelligence of a human, and features of predator animals. Most found the shadow’s shape and size to be intimidating, but Izuku found it rather comforting. To him, Dark Shadow was an overgrown puppy constantly looking for affection. The creature would often escape Tokoyami’s control simply to beg for pets from the green haired boy, which Izuku happily complied with.

Dark Shadow never referred to Izuku by name, however, opting instead to call him Bunny. Although slightly embarrassed at the nickname, Izuku took it in stride, and would even respond to it if Dark Shadow used it. 

One night, early on in their communal living, Dark Shadow lay sprawled across Izuku’s lap, a scarred hand petting softly on the creature’s head. The creature stiffened under his hand and Izuku drew back, scared that he had offended the creature in some way. 

“Bunny’s lungs smell different than other humans.” They had addressed the room at large. Luckily, the only people in the room were Izuku, Tokoyami, Dark Shadow, and Katsuki. Tokoyami looked affronted.

“Dark Shadow!” He admonished, “Please don’t comment on the smell of others’ lungs. Humans generally find that disconcerting.” Dark Shadow huffed indignantly and shoved their face into Izuku’s.

“But they do! Why, Bunny, why?” The creature's question seemed to have startled Izuku, and Bakugo stiffened in his seat. Izuku chuckled awkwardly.

“Y’see, Dark Shadow, when I was little I was really really sick. But I got better. Maybe you’re just smelling the remnants of that?” Dark Shadow huffed again, obviously unsatisfied with the answer, but laid back down in Izuku’s lap. Tokoyami covered his face with his hands. 

“I apologize, Midoriya, for Dark Shadow’s lack of decorum.” 

“It’s alright, Tokoyami. I don’t mind. Dark Shadow means well.” Tokoyami nodded, and Dark Shadow continued literally burrowing their way into Midoriya’s chest. Izuku laughed at Dark Shadow’s actions, and held the creature close to his chest. 

“Will it come back, Bunny? The sickness?” Izuku bit his lip and glanced up at Katsuki. The blonde stared intently at Izuku, as if he was waiting for Izuku’s answer. 

“Well, it’s not impossible, Dark Shadow. It could always come back. And there’s a chance that I could get sick from something else. What I had made my lungs super weak and really prone to catching germs. But I promise you that I’m doing everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.” 

“I’ll help, Bunny. I’ll tell you if I smell it again.”

“Thank you, Dark Shadow. I’d appreciate that.” Dark Shadow nuzzled Izuku’s face and the green haired boy giggled at the affection. He looked up, his eyes meeting Katsuki’s from across the room. The blonde had a pained expression on his face. Izuku wondered what he was thinking. 

“Kacchan?” he asked. The boy started, before frowning and sinking deeper into his seat. He huffed and crossed his arms. 

“Better not get sick again, damn nerd. I’ve had about enough of that for one lifetime.” 

Despite the harshness of the words, Izuku softened. It was obvious that Izuku’s comment had unnerved the boy.

“I’ll try, Kacchan.” The boy rolled his eyes and stood up before stomping out of the room. At Tokoyami’s questioning stare, Izuku blushed. 

“Kacchan and I grew up together. He visited me a lot when I was in the hospital.” Tokoyami nodded. The gothic boy opened his mouth, about to speak, but was interrupted by Dark Shadow butting against his hand, demanding attention. Tokoyami groaned in embarrassment and Izuku giggled before complying to Dark Shadow’s request. The topic wasn’t brought up again until the beginning of summer vacation. 

Class 1-A noticed that Izuku was more prone to illness than the rest of them. He would often get small colds or be sneezing a lot. Most thought that the boy was simply working too hard and needed a break. Katsuki and Izuku knew better, though. Despite One for All, Izuku was still biologically quirkless, and that came with a greater susceptibility to illness. Izuku theorized that this was also a remnant of the treatment that he had received as a child, his immune system not quite returning to full strength. He dealt with it as best he could, now finding an unlikely ally in the explosive blonde that had been both friend and foe. 

Today was one of those days that had Izuku absolutely drained. He had left for his morning run but cut it short at a sharp and - unfortunately - familiar tightness in his chest. He sank down to the grass beside the trail and pressed a hand to his chest. Worry flickered in his heart as the vice around his lungs squeezed. He began to cough at the pressure, wet and sticky. Wetness travelled up his throat inch by inch and Izuku felt panic flood through his veins. Something was terribly wrong. He knew this feeling, had dreaded it for years. It couldn’t be back, not now. 

Still coughing, Izuku wrangled his body into a standing position and began to head back to the dorm. Luckily he hadn’t gotten all that far before the air had evacuated his lungs. He wheezed as he pushed open the door of the dorm building and ran straight into Kirishima’s back. Kirishima whipped around and grabbed his arm, hoping to support Izuku.

Scarred hands flew up to Izuku’s mouth as he hacked and wheezed. Kirishima’s blurry visage entered his field of vision. The red-haired boy’s mouth was moving, and Izuku distantly heard his words.

“Midoriya? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Izuku couldn’t do anything but keep coughing into one hand. His other came up and signed to the boy in front of him. 

I need Kacchan. Please, can you go get him? It’s important . Kirishima grimaced and turned around, Footsteps filled his ears as he saw Sero tear off into the common room. He hadn’t even noticed the tape wielder standing next to Kirishima, but the thought of that flew from his mind as metallic wetness entered his mouth. Izuku sank to his knees, back curling over as it shook from the force of his coughs. Kirishima used his grip on Izuku’s arm to guide him down, his other hand coming up to stroke the boy’s hair. 

“Let it out, Midobro. It’s gonna be okay. Bakubro’s on the way.” Izuku nodded. He let out a particularly harsh cough, and felt wetness coat his palm and fingers. He panted as the coughing ceased, haze filling his vision. He saw Kirishima pull back before being pushed to the side by a large hand. Katsuki’s face, drawn down into a frown, filled his vision. Izuku could see the fear in his eyes. Shaking, Izuku lifted his hand up to Katsuki’s.

“It’s back. Kacchan, it’s back.” A whine escaped his lips as sharp pain slashed at his chest. He coughed, feeling hot strands of metallic liquid coat his chin. He choked on the metallic sludge dripping into his throat and down his face. Katsuki’s calloused hand gripped his chin. The boy’s eyes were the only thing that he could make out in the fog surrounding his vision. Static filled his ears and drowned out the words that Katsuki was no doubt saying. His eyes rolled back into his head and he fell forward into a broad chest, knowing no more. 

As Izuku’s head fell into his chest, Katsuki’s arms came up to cradle his back and neck. He looked over to Kirishima, Sero standing in the doorway Katsuki had ran through. 

Katsuki had been worried about Izuku, although he would never admit it. He had seen the green haired boy struggling with a small cough for the last few days. Internally, he had silently reassured himself of Izuku’s wellbeing. He had stuck close to the other boy’s side, much to the shock of their classmates. He had hoped against hope that it was just a summer cold. It seemed that his hopes would go unanswered, though. 

He had to get the boy to the infirmary. As gently as he could, he gathered Izuku’s strong yet slender frame into his arms and stood up. The green hair tickled against his neck as Izuku’s head rolled to rest on his chest. Izuku was conscious - albiet barely - and he could do little but crack open his lids. His lashes fluttered with the effort. His chest gave a sharp tug, and choked breaths escaped his lips. Katsuki looked down. 

“I’ve got you, Zuku. It’s going to be okay.” Izuku could do little but nod and close his eyes. Katsuki was here. Everything would be okay. 

Kirishima and Sero opened the door for Katsuki before flanking him on either side. The boys broke out into a dead sprint, Katsuki making sure to keep his strides as even as possible so as not to jostle Izuku more than necessary. Katsuki took a moment to look down at the boy in his arms. Izuku’s eyes were closed, and a small trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth. Grunting, Katsuki picked up his pace. Soon enough - but still too long - the group reached the infirmary. Without hesitation, Katsuki kicked the door open. 

Recovery Girl stood up with an angry expression, but blanched at the sight of Izuku in Katsuki’s arms. She gestured for Katsuki to place Izuku on the bed and began her treatment.

“What happened?” Her tone gave no room for argument or hesitation. Kirishima and Sero began to speak over, their voices melding into an indecipherable symphony. Katsuki grunted and unceremoniously shoved the two out of the infirmary before slamming the doors in their faces. Ignoring the pounding fists on the other side, Katsuki sighed and turned to face the healer.

“Large cell neuroendocrine carcinoma. He was diagnosed when he was five, went in to remission when he was six.” Recovery Girl nodded, hiding her shock behind a cool and professional facade. She began to tend to Izuku, checking his breathing before placing an oxygen mask around his face. She tilted his head slightly, and listened to his breathing. Satisfied, she looked over at Katsuki, before continuing her treatment. 

“I’ll have to run some tests to confirm the diagnosis, but it has most likely returned. Once the tests come back, we can confirm spread and begin treatment.” Recovery Girl pulled two desk chairs to the bed that Izuku laid on and Katsuki sat down, slumpin in the seat. The healer bustled around, wheeling herself across the room to gather supplies before returning with a large and painful looking needle. 

She pulled Izuku’s shirt aside and began running her hands over his chest, palpating gently at the pale skin. Blood was drawn, and the healer looked up at Katsuki. 

“Bakugo, would you mind carrying Midoriya? I need to take X-Rays of his lungs, and possibly a CT.” Katsuki nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, and stood. His arms slid under the boy’s back and legs, bringing up his limp body into a strong hold. Recovery Girl wheeled a canister of oxygen behind her, connected to Izuku’s unconscious body. 

He followed Recovery Girl down a short hallway and, at her instruction, laid him on a bed surrounded by a large structure. She removed the oxygen mask. At Katsuki’s confused and angry look, she sighed. 

“As much as I would like him to keep wearing this, there can’t be metal in the room when I’m conducting the imaging. It could interfere with the images, and even potentially cause him harm.” Katsuki nodded, wincing slightly. Izuku’s breath came in small wet wheezes. 

As quickly as she dared, Recovery Girl retrieved the images of Izuku’s lungs. She gestured at Katsuki, who all but ran into the room. Taking a moment to wrangle the oxygen mask, he placed it onto Izuku’s face with a gentleness that he didn’t quite understand. He swept the boy back into his arms and Recovery Girl led the way once more to the main infirmary. Izuku was placed on the bed once more.

“The tests will take a few days. In that time, I’ll inform your teachers to have Midoriya sit out of practical classes. I can’t do much for him until the tests are confirmed, but I’ll have him come here for breathing treatments.” She grasped Katsuki’s much larger hand in her own.

“I know that you and Midoriya have some history. But it’s obvious that you care a great deal for him. He’s going to need a lot of support to get through this. I hope you are willing and prepared to do that.” Katsuki nodded.

“I won’t leave him to fight alone. Not again.” Recovery Girl’s eyes softened slightly. A small noise rose from the bed, and the two looked at the figure. Izuku’s green eyes gazed blearily up at the ceiling. One scarred hand flopped up to land on the oxygen mask. Katsuki reached out to stop the boy from removing it. The sight of Katsuki’s hand drew Izuku’s attention, and he looked over at the two. 

“Hello, Midoriya.” Recovery Girl’s voice was soft, softer than Katsuki had ever heard it. Izuku waved tiredly, too exhausted to form words. His eyes slid over to meet Katsuki’s own, green and red colliding in space.

“Couldn’t stay out of trouble for one day, could you, nerd?” Katsuki’s voice was gruff, but Izuku could hear the tired fondness seeping into each word. His face broke out in a small grin, and he reached out a scarred and trembling hand. Katsuki immediately grasped it, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles. Izuku closed his eyes at the affection, the softest of sighs escaping his lips. Recovery Girl decided to interject.

“Midoriya, I’m going to keep you for a little while. Your oxygen level is low. We’re running some tests to determine the cause, but Katsuki told me his suspicions. If they’re true, we’ll find a plan of treatment for you. Once your oxygen level rises, you’re free to go.” Izuku nodded, too tired to reply. 

“Bakugo, I’d dismiss you, but I have a feeling that you’re going to stay regardless of what I say. Just don’t destroy anything.” She left, pulling a curtain around the bed. Izuku caught Katsuki’s gaze. His lips, still blood-coated, slid into a small smile. Izuku shivered, his eyes closing slightly. He opened them again, and signed to Katsuki. Sit with me? Katsuki grinned and stood up. 

With a gentleness that Katsuki didn’t know he had, he lifted Izuku’s back off the bed and, careful to support his neck, slid himself onto the bed behind him. Immediately, Izuku burrowed further into Katsuki’s chest, revelling in the warmth. Katsuki’s strong arms encircled Izuku’s waist. The green head fell back against Katsuki’s chest, the boy’s eyes half closed. Katsuki’s hand stroked along Izuku’s side, content to just hold the other boy. 

“Want me to read to you, Zuku? Like old times?” Katsuki’s voice rumbled against Izuku’s back, the vibrations of his words setting his bones buzzing. He nodded, closing his eyes completely. Katsuki dug in his pocket before fishing out his phone. Unconsciously, he pressed a small kiss to Izuku’s curly head, scrolling through his phone. He settled on one and, drawing the boy infinitesimally closer, began to read. Izuku let the calm cadence of his friend’s voice wash over him, a comforting and calming sound. This was how Recovery Girl found them an hour later, the boys blinking sleepily at her as she pulled back the curtain. 

She placed a pulse ox on Izuku’s finger and, after reading the numbers on the screen, nodded in satisfaction. Her hand reached over and lowered the mask still on the boy’s face. Izuku smiled at her, before being handed a washcloth. He quickly wiped at the blood still coating his face, grateful to be relieved of the crusted feeling. 

“You should be okay to leave, Midoriya. I’ll have your results in a few days. If you feel short of breath or have another attack, come see me. I also want you to take it easy - regardless of whether or not this is a carcinoma, your lungs still need a break.” Izuku nodded, a bit too tired to form a response. “Bakugo, please keep an eye on him.” Katsuki rolled his eyes but nodded all the same. He pushed Izuku off of his chest before sliding off the bed, turning around to face the other boy. He began to slide his arms under the boy’s back and legs, but Izuku waved him off.

“I can walk, Kacchan.” Katsuki’s face drew into a frown, but he backed off all the same. Izuku maneuvered himself over to the side of the bed and stood up, swaying slightly at the sudden change. He steadied, Katsuki’s arm held out to catch him should he fall. He shot a small smile at the blonde, then turned to Recovery Girl.

“Thank you for taking care of me. I apologize for any stress.” Recovery Girl just waved him off. The two friends departed from the infirmary. Once they had progressed down the hall, Katsuki pulled Izuku into an alcove. 

“Kacchan?” Katsuki’s face twisted. Angry, indignant tears pricked at the corners of his crimson eyes. Izuku, hesitating slightly, reached up and held Katsuki’s face. The blonde’s eyes locked on Izuku’s. 

“You’re going to be okay, nerd. I’m not gonna fucking let you die. Not after all the shit we’ve been through.” Katsuki’s voice was low and tinged with anger, but Izuku heard the desperation behind the words. Izuku’s own eyes watered, and he brought the hand not attached to Katsuki up to wipe at his own tears. He sniffed and closed his eyes. Strong arms encircled his waist, a hand coming up to tangle softly in his hair. 

“I’m scared, Kacchan.” Izuku’s hands fisted into the fabric of Katsuki’s shirt. The two stood in the alcove for a while, gaining strength from the other’s presence. Katsuki pulled away before grabbing Izuku’s face with his hands.

“I’m not gonna leave you again, Zuku. You’re fucking stuck with me, shitty nerd. I’m with you.” Izuku cracked a wobbly smile.

“Until the end of the line.” Katsuki drew Izuku back into his embrace, before the boys pulled away from each other and began the trek back to the dorms. Kirishima and Sero surrounded them, their worried eyes and voices filling  the space. Katsuki pulled Izuku backwards slightly, creating a physical barrier between the boys. 

“Give him a fucking minute, idiots.” Both boys stopped, seeing the tension in Izuku’s shoulders. Sero grinned at the boy before winking and dragging Kirishima behind him. Katsuki, once the two had left, turned to Izuku. 

“Your room?” Izuku nodded. They walked to the elevator together, shoulders brushing. As the elevator rose, Izuku leaned against Katsuki, still seeking the boy’s warmth. Katsuki, despite himself and the situation, gave a small huff of laughter. The door opened onto a blissfully empty hallway. As Izuku fumbled with his dorm keys, Katsuki yanked them out of the smaller boy’s hands. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door in one swift motion, pulling the other boy behind him. They both sat on Izuku’s bed, Katsuki pulling the green-haired boy once again into his arms. They quickly fell asleep. 

The next few days were akin to torture. Izuku tried to do his best to act normally - after all, it wasn’t a guarantee that his cancer had returned (although, who was he kidding: he remembered the feeling in his lungs, in his throat, too well for it to be anything else) - but he felt himself on edge and fidgeting throughout each class. Katsuki stayed near, his hands steadying and sure. Izuku had never been more grateful for Katsuki, brusque and volatile Katsuki who held his hands as if they were precious and whispered soft reassurances into his ear as he cowered in the janitor’s closet. He was Izuku’s island, strong and firm in the buffeting of the waves of uncertainty and terror, a beacon of calm in the storm. The two walked down the hall together on the third day after Izuku’s trip to the infirmary when the loudspeakers requested their return.

Ignoring the catcalls that Kaminari crowed, the boys departed from the mass of students and walked to the stairs, climbing them one after one. They stopped outside of the infirmary and Katsuki turned to face Izuku. He held the boy’s scarred hands in his own.

“Whatever happens, Zuku. I’m here. Till the end of the line.” Katsuki drew the boy into a comforting embrace and Izuku fell into his friend’s chest. Katsuki, swept up in the moment, placed a small kiss to Izuku’s curls. Blushing slightly, he tore himself out of the embrace and pulled Izuku through the doors.

Recovery Girl turned to face them and, seeing Izuku, sighed sadly. Quiet despair filled her eyes, something that would have been hard to catch if Izuku wasn’t so well-versed in the expressions of medical professionals delivering death sentences. She gestured to the chairs in front of her and Izuku all but collapsed into the chair, numbing dread filling his lungs and tasting of metal and electricity. Katsuki settled himself onto the other chair. He turned his head to check that the door had closed behind him. In that instant, Recovery Girl nodded slightly, her forehead crinkling. Izuku’s heart hit the floor. Katsuki turned back to face her. Recovery Girl breathed in, the intake of air hitching slightly.

“I’m sorry, Midoriya. The tests have confirmed that you have Stage Four Large Cell Neuroendocrine Carcinoma.” 

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s world shattered into a million pieces. His insides turned to ice, numbness travelling up his chest. Kind, stupid, gentle, idiotically self-sacrificing, perfect Izuku, the boy who had quickly become a star that he revolved around, was going to fizzle out, snuffed like the light of a candle. His hands shook. He looked over at Izuku, tears in his eyes. The green-haired boy stared straight ahead, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Bitten lips parted as the boy seemed to shrink in on himself. Katsuki reached his hand out, willing the tremor to go fuck itself. He wasn’t the one facing death right now. He had no right to feel this way. He had to be strong for Izuku, to be the barrier between him and the rest of the world. Katsuki’s hands closed around Izuku’s. The boy barely reacted, not even registering Katsuki’s hand on his own. 

Izuku’s world narrowed into a pinprick of light. Everything seemed distant, as if coming from underwater. It wasn’t real. HE wasn’t real. He would wake up soon, right? This couldn’t be happening again. What had he done for the world to curse him in this way? 

From far away, he saw and heard Recovery Girl speak. 

“It’s not without hope, Midoriya. We can start you on traditional chemotherapy and possibly surgery if the tumors go down.” He nodded, barely registering the words. Recovery Girl seemed to sense this, opting to pat his shoulder. His breath began to come in smothered gasps, the feeling of his lungs constricting making itself known. Recovery Girl moved her hand from where it had been on his shoulder to his back, pushing his chest down until it hit his knees.

“Head between your knees, Midoriya. It’ll help the panic.” Izuku’s eyes burned bright, an ocean roaring against the sand. Another hand, larger and warm, settled on his back and began to stroke back and forth in comforting repetitiveness. The vice on his lungs hitched,  then slowly melted away inch by inch as the warm hand on his  back kept rubbing up and down his spine. Once it finally fell away, his head came up, chest following. Recovery Girl crouched in front of him. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he nodded, the wetness on his face cooling in the air of the infirmary. He hadn’t realized that he was crying. 

“I’m okay.” She nodded and straightened up. He looked over at Katsuki. His friend had set his mouth in a hard, determined line. The only indication of his true feelings were the small sheen of tears that he stubbornly refused to let fall. Katsuki, strong and immovable Katsuki, his rock. 

“Regarding treatment, I want to start you as soon as possible. No doubt you need a little time to process everything, but I also need to acquire the medication. I should have it by Friday. We can start then. I’m sure you’re no doubt aware of the side effects?” Izuku nodded, steadied by the hand on his back. Recovery Girl gave a small nod.

“We can do treatments on Fridays. That way you have time to recover before classes. However, your teachers need to be informed, so that they can modify your practicals. I can tell them if you’d like.” Izuku opened his mouth to speak. Having Recovery Girl tell Aizawa would be a good idea. That way, he wouldn’t see the disappointment in the pro-hero’s eyes. He wouldn’t have to hear of his immediate expulsion, his potential now gone. But it felt wrong, like he was hiding or taking the easy way out. He hesitated, torn. Recovery Girl seemed to see his hesitation on his face. 

You don’t have to decide immediately. I need an answer by Friday, but take some time to think it over. Just know, you won’t be in trouble if you have me inform them. It’s a big and scary thing - no one would blame you if you wanted me to tell them for you.” Izuku nodded again, still not quite able to speak. Recovery Girl reached behind her and handed him a few papers.

“I know you probably don’t need some of this, as this isn’t your first time getting treatment, but here is some information about the treatment. I’ve also given you a treatment schedule.” She tilted his chin up to meet her eyes. “Midoriya, I will be with you every step of the way. You’re not going to fight alone. Okay?” Izuku’s eyes watered even as he gave a small smile. Katsuki’s hand slid from his back up to his neck, a calloused thumb rubbing a small circle into the soft skin there. 

“I’ll give you a few minutes alone. You’re free to go.” She wheeled her chair over to the other side of the room. Izuku looked down at his hands. They shook, displaying his shock to an uncaring world. Katsuki leaned over and pulled Izuku’s chair to face him. Katsuki opened his legs, Izuku’s own sliding into the space in the middle. The blonde’s hand came up to cup his cheek, their eyes meeting.

In the quiet of the space and the safety of Katsuki’s hold, Izuku broke. Fat tears slid down his cheeks and a small keen escaped his lips. Katsuki’s face softened into a small and despairing smile. He grabbed the other boy’s thighs and pulled him onto his lap. Izuku’s legs wrapped around Katsuki’s slender waist and his ankles crossed behind the back of the chair. He buried his head into the space between Katsuki’s neck and shoulder. Izuku cried. He cried for the devastation he felt. For his dreams being shattered. For the hell that he was going to experience. For every pain, every choking breath, for each and everything in the world. For Katsuki. The blonde boy held him, one hand cradling Izuku’s head as the other held his back fast. 

“Let it out, Zuku. It doesn’t do any good to hold this shit in.” Katsuki’s voice was soft and laced with emotion. Izuku’s hands fisted in Katsuki’s shirt, crinkling the uniform fabric there. Katsuki used his legs to move the chair that he was sitting on in small back and forth motions. He said nothing, knowing words were worthless at the moment. Instead, he hummed. It was a song that his mother would sing when he was in the hospital. It was a song about death from one of the punk bands that Inko had loved in her youth. The nurses had been so confused when she sang it to him, words tinged with the utter hopelessness of one meant for a different world. Izuku had loved it, though. It had made him feel less afraid. It was bittersweet and nostalgic, comforting despite its place in one of the worst times in his life. Katsuki moved from humming to  whispering the words in Izuku’s ear, a low and rumbling lifeline against the onslaught of emotion. 

“Well tonight, well tonight, will it ever come?” 

Eventually, Izuku had cried himself out. He sat in exhaustion on the lap of his best friend, relishing the closeness. Eventually, he made a move to disentangle them, but Katsuki held on fast. He hitched an arm under Izuku’s thigh and stood up. Both of Katsuki’s arms supported his weight. From his perch in Katsuki’s arms, Izuku whispered.

“Kacchan? What-” Katsuki began the walk back to the dorm. He shushed Izuku.

“Let me take care of you, nerd.”  Despite himself, Izuku smiled and laid his head against Katsuki’s shoulders. They were met at the door by Kirishima and Todoroki, the latter of which began to stride forward with venom in his eyes.

“What the hell did you do to him, Bakugo?” Todoroki’s voice was ice cold. Kirishima grabbed the boy by his arm. Izuku flinched in his arms, the noise and angry tone startling him from his half-asleep state. Todoroki deflated instantly, making his posture much less threatening. Kirishima still held onto him, but Todoroki walked around Katsuki. He placed one hand on Izuku’s forehead. 

“Are you alright, Midoriya? Did Bakugo hurt you?” Izuku shook his head, butting against Todoroki’s hand. Katsuki rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

“Fuck off, IcyHot. Zuku will tell you when he’s damn ready, got it? Don’t fucking bother him about it until he’s ready to tell you.” Todoroki moved to protest, to help his first friend. But Izuku clung to Katsuki, curling in the arms holding him up. He gave Todoroki a small smile. The boy acquiesced, but not before grabbing Izuku’s hand and squeezing it. With a last glare fling at Katsuki, Todoroki stalked off, a small trail of fire in his wake. Katsuki raised one eyebrow.

“What crawled up his ass and died? He’s being bitchier than usual.” Izuku murmured, slightly too low for Katsuki to hear, but didn’t move to repeat himself even after Katsuki prompted him. With an annoyed sigh and a meaningful look at the other two, Katsuki crossed to the elevators and pressed the button that would take them to Katsuki’s floor. As he waited, he leaned against the elevator wall, his arms shifting slightly to accommodate the new position. Izuku shifted in his arms, afraid that he was annoying the other boy. Katsuki simply held him closer before exiting. Denki was walking past their field of view as Katsuki exited the elevators. The electric blonde moved to speak, but Katsuki cut him off with a single glare. Denki backed up  his arms in a position of surrender. 

Katsuki reached his room with no other distractions, lowering himself down onto the bed after shutting the door. He adjusted Izuku in his arms so that the boy sat much as he had been carried, but was leaning more into Katsuki’s chest for comfort. Idly, Katsuki’s hand came up and stroked softly at Izuku’s curls, bouncy and soft and so unlike what he remembered from his childhood visits to Izuku’s hospital room. Izuku huffed a small and choked laugh from his chest.

“Make the most of it while it lasts, Kacchan. My hair falls out fast.” Katsuki flinched, his hand stilling. Izuku looked up at him. 

“Chemo jokes don’t make you laugh? I thought you said you had a dark sense of humor.” Izuku sighed. He straightened up, looking Katsuki in the eyes. 

“Kacchan, I need you to promise me something.” Katsuki nodded then spoke, his voice rough with emotion. 

“Anything, Zuku.” Izuku rolled his eyes. 

“That’s what I wanted to ask you about. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be nice to me out of pity. I know I’m sick, but having you stick around because of some fucked up obligation may be worse than having you out of my life at all. Don’t make me feel like everything we’ve been through has been for nothing. I get that people are going to treat me differently and as much as I hate it, I understand that. But please, I can’t take it from you. Anyone else but you.” Izuku’s eyes filled, diamonds of anguish cascading down freckled cheeks. Katsuki felt his chest flaring with some unknown emotion. 

“Better listen ducking well, Zuku. I will never. Fucking never. Treat you with pity. You and I both know it’s bullshit. Did you see me pull that shit when you were in the hospital, or when you were quirkless?. fucking no. I know you’re fucking scared right now. I am too. But don’t, for one fucking second, think that I will ever pity you.” To most others, Katsuki’s words sounded harsh. But to Izuku, it was a comfort. Katsuki never lied. Izuku had been afraid that Katsuki would feel obligated to help him or stay with him out of some connection to their mothers or some force in the universe. But the reassurance that Katsuki was there because he wanted to be and because he cared warmed Izuku’s heart. 

Katsuki pulled their heads together, their foreheads touching. Izuku closed his eyes, the touch reassuring and calming him. Katsuki’s thumb rubbed patterns on the other boy’s neck.

“I’m with you now and forever, dumbass. And that’s because I want to be, and I hope you want me there too.” Izuku nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Katsuki’s hands slid from where they were to cup Izuku’s face.

“Nerd, listen to me. It’s important. I’ve wanted to say this for a long fucking time, but I’m shit with words. You and I both know that. But Izuku, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. For everything. All the shit I’ve done and said to you. For telling you to fucking kill yourself. I don’t know how you’ve managed to somehow fucking forgive me. But you have. Maybe it’s because you’re a fucking masochist. I don’t know. But I haven’t done shit to earn that forgiveness.” Izuku moved to protest, his brows drawing in indignation on Katsuki’s behalf. Katsuki shushed him.

“I’m not finished. I know what I’m asking is a lot. But let me take care of you. Let me spend every day, the rest of our lives, making it up to you. Cause that’s what you fucking deserve, Zuku. You deserve someone that will treat you like you hung the stars. But somehow, you’ve chosen me. So let me prove to you and to myself that I’m worthy of your forgiveness. Please, Zuku.” Izuku, in typical Midoriya fashion, let out a loud sob and buried his face in Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki blanched, afraid that he had crossed a line. But the green head poked out at him, a watery smile visible amidst the flow of tears. Katsuki held him tighter. Once Izuku had calmed down enough, he spoke.

“That sounds like a marriage proposal, Kacchan.” Katsuki was taken aback. Quickly recovering, he grinned and replied. 

“And? I distinctly remember telling you that I'd marry you when we were five, and I don’t see you drawing up divorce papers anywhere.” Izuku snorted with laughter, and Katsuki’s grin stretched wider. 

“Obviously I’m waiting until the opportune time so I can collect that insurance deposit.” Katsuki let out a full-body laugh before grabbing Izuku around his waist and nuzzling his head into Izuku’s shoulder - a spot that he knew was insanely ticklish. He immediately pulled away when Izuku began coughing. Katsuki moved to help him, but Izuku waved him off, wiping a small stream of blood from his lips. Exhausted, green curls leaned against Katsuki’s chest as Izuku fought to regain his breath. Katsuki held him, offering comfort. 

“Sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered. Katsuki batted the back of his head.

Why are you apologizing, dumbass? You didn’t do shit.” Izuku simply shrugged, his eyes fluttering closed. A scarred hand fisted in Katsuki’s shirt. Katsuki felt the grip slacken slightly. 

“Go to sleep, Zu. I’ve got you.” Katsuki leaned back so that both of them were prone on the bed. Izuku’s head was pillowed on Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki idly brushed a hand through the green curls. Once he thought Izuku was asleep, he whispered into the room.

“I still mean it. I would marry you in a heartbeat if you’d have me.” 

Izuku, of course, wasn’t quite asleep and headed everything that Katsuki had said. He smiled softly and burrowed his head further into Katsuki’s chest. The two fell asleep, content to lay together. 

Izuku rung his hands outside of Aizawa’s office. It was Thursday, the day before Recovery Girl’s deadline for informing Aizawa. Katsuki had left to train in the gym with Kirishima. Izuku was alone. He steeled his nerves and knocked on the door. The tired voice of his teacher called him in. He turned the handle with shaking hands and entered the room, pushing the door closed behind him with a soft click. 

Aizawa sat in his desk chair, idly flipping through assignments. A steaming mug sat on his desk and he reached over to sip at it. His eyes raised to meet Izuku’s.

“Midoriya. Can I help you with something?” Izuku nodded and stepped forward, coming to stand in front of the man’s desk. Aizawa gestured for Izuku to sit down. He tapped idly at the arm of the chair. After a moment, Izuku began to ramble.

“Hi, Mr. Aizawa. I know that this is kind of sudden but Recovery Girl said that I had to tell you either by today or ask her to tell you for me and as much as I would like to ask her to do that it would feel weird to me cause you’re my teacher and I fell like I have to be the one to tell you even if i’m nervous to. But anyways I need to tell you this cause tomorrow is whence start so I can’t come to class tomorrow and that’s why I have to tell you.” Izuku took a large breath and shut his eyes as he continued.

“I need to tell you that I won’t be in practical classes tomorrow. Well, more like every Friday. And I have like a medical reason but I needed you to know that.” Aizawa looked at him.

“You need to miss practicals on Fridays for a medical reason, is that correct?” Izuku nodded.

“Can you tell me what the  medical reason is? If this is going to impact your schoolwork I’d like to know so that we can plan accordingly.” Izuku looked down at his hands, twisting the knuckles. His shoulders were tended around his ears, and we wouldn’t look Aizawa in the eyes. Aizawa sighed once more.

“Kid, I’m not gonna be mad, I promise. But if it’s a serious medical condition, I need to know so that we can make a plan for you to catch up or so I can modify lessons for you safety.” Izuku looked at him and Aizawa’s heart broke just a little. It was ovsious that Midoriya was holding back tears. Soft hitched breaths escaped his mouth. Aizawa rose from his seat and walked around the desk to kneel in front of Izuku. 

“Mr. Aizawa, I have cancer.” Aizawa’s stomach plummeted to the underworld. The dam behind the green eyes finally broke and tears spilled down the boys cheeks. He curled into himself, chanting a mantra of “imsorryimsorryimsorry”. Aizawa shook his head, drawing the trembling form into his arms. He held Izuku has he cried, patting his back gently. 

“Kid,” he said, his voice cracking slightly, “you don’t have anything to be sorry about.” Izuku sniffed, and Aizawa clutched him tighter. 

“Are…are you going to expel me?” Aizawa pulled away, his brow furrowed. Izuku wouldn’t look at him, his arms crossed around himself in a semblance of comfort. Aizawa held Izuku’s neck.

“Midoriya, look at me.” Green eyes met his own. “Why do you think I’d expel you for being sick?” 

“Cause.. cause I can’t do practicals and I won’t be useful anymore and I’m sick and I’m useless again like I was before and i don’t have potential anymore.” Aizawa drew him back into his arms.

“Listen, kid. You have some of the greatest potential I’ve ever seen. I’m not going to expel you for something you can’t control. I’m sorry if I made it seem like you can’t come talk to me about things like this. I’m your teacher. I’m here as a support system for you. We’ll figure something out, okay? So don’t worry. Everything will work out.” Izuku nodded against his shoulder. 

“I’m assuming you start chemo tomorrow, then.” Izuku nodded again. “I’ll talk to you teachers about alternate assignments for practicals. I know Nedzu wanted to pick your brain about analysis. Maybe you can use the practicals time to meet with him.” Izuku stared at him. 

“He’s…interested in MY analysis?” His voice was shocked and almost reverent. Aizawa snorted.

“Don’t sound so surprised kid. You’re one of the smartest people that I’ve met. And anyways, Nedzu keeps bugging me about talking to you during class, so it’s a ‘two birds with one proverbial stone’ situation.” Izuku laughed softly. He squeezed his arms around the man’s waist.

“Thank you, Mr. Aizawa. Sorry for crying all over your capture weapon.” Aizawa huffed a laugh.

“You should see some of the shit  - and I mean actual shit once - that had been on this thing. Don’t worry about it, kid. And I mean it. You can come to talk to me about anything.” Izuku smiled, a soft and fragile grin. “Do you want me to let your other teachers know? I don’t mind, and it’ll make coordinating assignments easier.” Izuku nodded. 

“Thank you, Mr. Aizawa.” Izuku huffed the man one last time and departed the office.

In the isolation afterwords, Aizawa let his heart break for his student. Aizawa cradled his head in his hands and cried. He knew it was stupid, illogical even. Crying wouldn’t help Midoriya, nor would it do any good. But still the arrogant tears crawled unconcerned down his face. Aizawa ground the palms of his hands into his eye sockets. He had no right to mourn over his student. Sucking a deep breath in, Aizawa picked up his phone and texted the teacher’s group chat.

Catzawa: Meeting in the staff room in half an hour. 

It was time for him to be there for his problem child. 

Chapter Text

Izuku’s last stop for the day was at Recovery Girl’s office. She had asked him to stop by with his decision of whether or not she would be the one to inform Aizawa. He opened the door and was surprised to see his mother sitting at Recovery Girl’s desk. She smiled shakily, waving at him. 

“Hey Mom.” His voice was soft, cracking slightly on the last word. She held her arms out to him. He all but ran to his mother, his arms resting on her shoulders as she wrapped her own around his chest. Izuku broke a little in his mother’s arms. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to see her, to talk to her. In the days since his diagnosis, he had neglected to call her, even forgoing their usual weekly phone call. It was nerves that had held his tongue. He knew that if he spoke to her, the truth would come out and they would both be snivelling messes. As much as he knew that she needed to know, he still wanted to protect her from that pain, from the burden that he knew he’d become in the future. 

“I’m here, baby,” she whispered into his ear, a hand stroking softly at his back. “The school called me to talk. Everything’s going to be okay.” Izuku sniffled and rubbed his head against his mother’ neck. It was a gesture that he had done when he was little, sick in the hospital and too weak to return his mother’s affections. She patted the back of his head and kissed his curls, her arms pressing her son against her tighter. She didn’t know what was going on. All that she knew was that Izuku needed her support right now. Recovery Girl, sitting across from Inko, gave them a few moments to greet each other and, after Izuku’s outburst, calm down. The two turned to her, Izuku giving her a silent nod. He looked down at his hands as he settled down in the chair next to his mother, her arm wrapping around his shoulders. 

“It’s lovely to see you again, Ms. Midoriya, although I wish it were under different circumstances.” Recovery Girl’s voice was soft as she spoke. Inko smiled at her and nodded, her heart dropping both at the heroine’s words and her tone of voice. She, too, had become well versed in the nonverbal and semi verbal communication of medical staff. 

“Thank you for having me, ma’am. It’s always a pleasure to see you.” Recovery Girl smiled, the light not quite reaching her eyes. “I don’t mean to be blunt, but may I ask why I was called here? As lovely as it is to see you, I’m sure a social call wasn’t on your list of priorities today.” Recovery Girl nodded.

“Last week, Izuku came to the infirmary with bloody sputum. After treating him, we conducted tests to determine the cause. Mr. Bakugo informed me of his suspicions that Izuku’s childhood cancer had come back. I’m sorry to say, the tests confirm this suspicion. Izuku has Stage Four Large Cell Neuroendocrine Carcinoma.” Inko’s shoulders tightened at the news, hot tears pricking at her eyes. Izuku flinched under her arm, decidedly still looking at his hands. Inko spoke, steadfastly ignoring how her voice shook. 

“It returned? But Izuku’s been in remission for so long.” Recovery Girl sighed. 

“I wish that it were different, but it has returned. I can only speculate as to why.” Inko nodded, her lower lip trembling. 

“Okay. So what do we do? Should I pull Izuku out for treatment?” Izuku flinched again, his eyes squeezing shut. Small tremors coursed through his body at the suggestion. He knew that his mother only suggested it out of concern for his health, but the thought of dropping out tore holes through his already battered heart. 

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Ms. Midoriya. We have the capabilities to do Izuku’s treatments here. It would also be safer for him if he stayed at UA. As a provisionally licensed hero, especially one as infamous as your son, the news or implication of his health would paint a target on his back. I’m having the teachers form alternate assignments for Izuku in place of practical classes.” Inko nodded. 

“What if he gets worse? If he needs to be hospitalized?”

“I’m currently working out the details of this. We do have the capability to do that here, but I have contacts at a Hero-specific hospital who would be happy to continue treatment should more hands-on treatment be needed.” Inko lifted a hand to her mouth. The thought of her son suffering again drove stakes through her nerves. She remembered her son’s time in the hospital, his bright eyes hazy with pain and sickness. She remembered long nights in hospital waiting rooms, too bright lights searing into her brain. She remembered each hacking cough, each round of tears, each time Izuku struggled to wake up, to take a breath. She remembered the aftermath, how after he was discharged he would lay for hours in bed, still too weak to stand on his own for long periods of time. She remembered sitting at the kitchen table, hospital bills spread across the table, her hands shaking. Inko looked up. 

“Ms. Midoriya, please rest assured that we have Izuku’s best interests at heart. We can only imagine how hard it will be for him, but we will be there every step of the way. And please don’t worry about any financial situations. UA will cover his treatment fully, even if you decide against him being treated here. Our staff cares immensely about your son and want to see him safe and healthy.” Izuku sagged against her side. Her hand came up to cradle his head, curls that she loved so much flattening against her palm. Inko looked at her son, his eyes still tight shut. 

“Baby, I need you to look at me.” He did, and Inko’s heart broke at the sight. Izuku’s eyes were red and watery, as she imagined her own were. She pressed her son back into her arms and spoke into his ear. 

“I know that you’re scared, Izuku. And that’s perfectly okay. But you’re older now, and I want this to be your decision. Are you okay with doing treatment with Recovery Girl? I want you to be healthy and happy, and if that means you staying here, I’m okay with that.” Izuku’s shoulders shook with his sobs, and Inko felt her shirt front grow damp. His head nodded and he clutched at her sweater as if it was a lifeline, a buoy in a turbulent sea. Inko felt her own face grow wet as the tears she had been holding back began streaming down her face. Inko turned to Recovery Girl, her son still in her arms.

“I give my consent for Izuku to be treated here. I do have some conditions. One: I want to be informed about his treatment and health status. Two: If he has an attack or needs a different level of care, I am to be informed immediately.” Recovery Girl nodded, her mouth quirked up into a small smile. 

“I would expect nothing less, Ms. Midoriya. I’ll give you weekly reports on his condition, more if need be.” She turned to Izuku. “Mr. Midoriya, have you come to a decision on informing your teachers?” Izuku nodded.

“I told Mr. Aizawa before I came here. He said that he would tell the rest of my teachers.” Recovery Girl nodded, satisfied with his answer. 

“Ms. Midoriya, if you’d like you can accompany your son back to the dorms. Your visitor’s pass does need to be returned by tomorrow morning, but you’re welcome to stay. You can stay here a few minutes if you’d like.” Inko nodded, her tears coming faster. The two Midoriyas held each other and cried. Recovery Girl rolled back to her desk, ignoring the quickly growing puddle of water surrounding her feet. 

Once the two’s tears ran dry, Inko smiled at her son. She kissed his forehead. 

“It’ll be okay, baby.” Izuku smiled at her, his grin shaky but undeniable. They turned to Recovery Girl and stopped short at the sight. The healer sat at her desk filling out paperwork, holding a large black umbrella over her head. It was such a ridiculous sight that the two broke into laughter. She turned to them at the sudden laughter, huffing a small laugh of her own.

“I did have to keep this paperwork dry somehow.” The two apologized for the waterworks, their words punctuated with badly repressed laughter, before saying their goodbyes and leaving the infirmary. Izuku offered his arm to his mother, smiling at her. Inko’s eyes watered but she accepted the proffered arm with a smile of her own. They walked down the corridor and over to the dorms in relative silence. Neither had the words that they needed. Once they had arrived, Inko pulled Izuku to the side of the door. Izuku looked at her in confusion. 

“Have you told your classmates?” Izuku shook his head.

“Kacchan knows, but I haven’t told anyone else yet. I didn’t really know how to.” Inko nodded, before a terrible, awful, absolutely hilarious idea entered her mind. Inko, in her youth, had been a fan of rock and punk music. She had never lost that side of her, only switching up her apparel as she grew older. Her heart beat to the cacophony of drums and guitar that had so moved her in her youth. When Izuku was born, she shared this love with her son. This love had grown when Izuku was in the hospital, able to do little. She would play her favorite albums and sing to him, censoring the more profane language. When he was having a good day, he would sing along. On worse days, she would hold him and dance around slightly, his little head bobbing along to the beat. She looked up at her son and grinned.

“I have an idea on how you could inform your classmates.”

“What is it?”

“Do you remember The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance?” Izuku’s eyes widened in realization. He laughed. 

“Mom, that’s evil! Let’s do it. Can we get Kacchan in on it?” Inko nodded, her face breaking into a devious grin. 

“Call him and tell him to meet us out here. I’ll explain the plan to him. If any of your friends get mad, tell them that it was my idea.” Izuku nodded, pulling out his phone. Inko regarded her son. His excited voice lilted as he spoke into the phone. Green eyes sparkled in amusement, so different to the dulled pain that they had been clouded with a few minutes ago. Inko’s chest filled, sadness and affection and determination and love roiling in her peritoneal cavity. Izuku smiled at his mother and she smiled back, forcing down the bolus of her own emotions. It wouldn’t do to cry right now. That’s not what Izuku needed.

Katsuki pushed open the door and threw an arm around Izuku’s shoulders. Unconsciously, the boy leaned into the touch. Katsuki grinned down at him before turning his head to face Inko.

“Hey Auntie. Zuku told me you had some dastardly plan.” Inko schooled her features into a similar smile and filled both boys in on the plan. Two minutes later, Katsuki parted to set up the dorm stereo, connecting his phone and pulling up the album. He couldn’t quite believe that the sweet and doting lady that Inko was could come up with something so hilariously devious. The entire class was gathered in the common room, small groups sitting on different furniture. They looked up at Katsuki, confusion in their eyes. 

“Bakubro? What’s up?” Kirishima called from his place on the couch. Katsuki ignored him in favor of looking towards the door. A minute later, mother and son were walking through the dorm doors. Izuku was leading Inko in, her hand on his arm. Both were fighting back laughter. Iida jumped from his seat and stood rigidly. The other students just looked around, the anxious energy that Iida displayed more muted in their reactions. Inko waved at them.

“Hello, everyone! I’m Inko Midoriya, Izuku’s mother.” Choruses of hellos were shouted, and some students (mostly the Dekusquad) stood up to greet her. She waved them off.

“There’s no need for such formalities, kids. I’m just here for a visit. Would it be alright if I used your kitchen? I thought you all would like a home-cooked meal.” Cheers erupted from the students, Kirishima and Kaminari leading the charge. “Before I do though, we have a little announcement.” The Midoriya’s grinned at each other, and Izuku spoke.

“My mom brought something.” Katsuki, hearing the cue words, hit play. Sad piano music drifted through the room. Inko was vibrating from holding in her laughs, and Izuku’s face was red with the effort. The singer began, and Jirou’s face went white. Tokoyami flinched, and Dark Shadow emerged, hovering in front of his face. Confused glances were thrown about the room. Jirou stood up, shaking.

“Midoriya?” Both looked over at her, trying to school their features into something resembling solemnity. “Our Midoriya, no offense, ma’am.” Inko waved her off. 

“Are..Are you trying to tell us that you have….” Izuku nodded before bursting into laughter, Inko following suit shortly after. Jirou’s voice shook.

“And, and you’re being serious right now? Cause if you aren’t I’m going to smack you.” Izuku nodded and she sank back down, boneless. Yaoyorozu slid her arm around Jirou’s waist and looked up at Izuku. 

“What are you trying to say, Midoriya? What’s happening?” Izuku opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Tokoyami. 

“Sickness. Can you confirm Jirou’s suspicions, Dark Shadow?” Tokoyami’s voice shook as he spoke. Dark Shadow looked over and rushed at Izuku before flinching away. 

“Bunny! It’s, it’s back!” Dark Shadow cried, golden eyes dripping ichor. Izuku straightened up from his laughter, his face falling into something sad and a little fond. He pet the creature’s head. 

“I know, Dark Shadow. I’m telling everyone now so that they know.” Dark Shadow wrapped around Izuku’s chest, their head coming to rest on his shoulders. Inko looked at the creature, carefully schooling her face to not show her surprise.

“Hello, there. Are you Dark Shadow? Izuku’s told me a lot about you.” Dark Shadow nodded but said nothing. Inko took no offense. It was obvious that the creature was upset and needed her son. Izuku looked up from Dark Shadow to his class. Half of them were standing after Jirou and Dark Shadow’s outbursts. Tokoyami held his head in his hands, refusing to look up. Yaoyorozu kept glancing between him and Jirou. Izuku steeled his nerves and spoke. 

“Sorry about the announcement. It was my mom’s idea and we couldn’t resist. Once an emo, always an emo. But I have cancer.” The room went silent, the only noise being the song playing in the background. 

Baby I’m just soggy from the chemo/and counting down the days to go.

All hell broke loose shortly after. A wave of teenagers came barreling at the two. Izuku was hugged from all sides, Inko drawn in shortly after. Both were drenched in tears, for once not their own. Yaoyorozu was still sitting next to a shocked Jirou, her hand over her mouth. Tokoyami looked over at the group. 

“Revelry in the dark, I suppose.” Izuku felt himself be lifted up into someone’s arms. He looked over to see a sobbing Kirishima. He patted the redhead’s forehead, careful not to mess up his spiked hair. Jirou looked over at him. 

“Mido, that was a dick move, but objectively funny as hell. I’m still gonna smack you, though.” Izuku barked a laugh then apologized. Inko’s voice carried from the crowd of teenagers.

“I apologize, but I couldn’t help but suggest it.” A misty-eyed Kaminari clapped her on the shoulder. 

“Mido, you never told me that your mom is hilarious.” Izuku shrugged with a grin, still being ensconced in Kirishima’s arms. Todoroki was sitting on the couch, his eyes glazed. Iida chopped at the air, his face wet with tears. Uraraka’s face appeared in his vision, crinkled with the force of her emotions. 

“Deku!” And suddenly, Izuku felt gravity leave him. Uraraka had accidentally activated her quirk on him and he drifted up to the ceiling, Kirishima’s arm the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. Katsuki snorted and walked over, shouldering his way to Inko. Ochako squeaked and began apologizing before releasing him, turning to Katsuki with a glare.

“You knew!” She pointed a shaking finger in his face. Katsuki threw an arm around Inko’s shoulders and bared his teeth. She stuck her tongue out at him, which he returned with vindictive glee. Katsuki barked over the sea of noise.

“Shut UP. You can have your crying fest later, idiots. Now move so Auntie Inko isn’t killed by your dumbass stampede.” The students jumped to comply, spouting apologies at the Midoriya matriarch. She laughed and tapped Katsuki’s arm gently. 

“It’s alright, everyone. I’m just glad that Izuku has such great friends.” Katsuki led her to the kitchen before the other students swarmed Izuku once more. “Thank you, Katsuki.”

“Any time, Auntie.” Katsuki’s voice was softer than she had heard in a long time. “Need any help?” Inko thought for a moment, then nodded. 

“Can you get the rice started? I’ll start prepping other things.” Katsuki nodded and the two set to work cooking. As they worked, Inko spoke. 

“Thank you for taking care of Izuku. Recovery Girl told me how you helped when he had an attack.” Katsuki looked down at the vegetables he was cutting. 

“It’s nothing, Auntie. I was just doing what I should have been all these years.” Inko looked over at him. 

“Katsuki, what do you mean?” Katsuki sighed.

“Auntie, I...wasn’t the best to Izuku when we were kids. Actually, I was really shitty to him. When he was sick, I promised to be stronger for him. But I ended up pushing him away. I treated him awfully. It was some kind of fucked up logic. I thought if I pushed him away, he’d be safe. From what? I don’t know. But all I did was hurt him. And we’re friends again, but I can’t undo the past.” Inko put the knife that she was holding down. She had known that Katsuki and Izuku had fallen out, but never to the extent. 

“I won’t lie, Katsuki. I was disappointed in you for a long time.” Katsuki nodded, his head down. “And you’re right, you can’t undo the past. All that you can do is learn from it, and let it help you grow.” Katsuki looked over at her, his hands braced against the counter. 

“If I know Izuku, he’s already forgiven you for what you’ve done. But I can see that you haven’t forgiven yourself. And I know you, Katsuki. Words are less important than actions. I saw that every time that you came to visit Izuku in the hospital. No matter what you said, no matter how harsh your words were, you still held Izuku like he was precious. And I can see you do that even now. So show him how you’ve changed. Be there for him. Protect my son when I can’t, okay? Love isn’t just big speeches and dramatic events. It’s the little, everyday things. So focus on the little things. The rest will fall into place.” Katsuki nodded, his eyes shining. 

“I will, Auntie. I won’t let him do this alone. He’ll know how much I love him.” Inko smiled.

“Oh, Katsuki. I’m sure he already knows.” 

Dinner that night was decidedly more solemn than most. They tried to keep their usual lively spirit going, but the weight of Izuku’s news hit like a truck. Dark Shadow had all but refused to leave Izuku’s side, curling up in his lap. Tokoyami couldn’t find it in his heart to reproach the creature, especially seeing how Izuku’s hand shook minutely as he stroked the shadowy back. Aizawa joined them shortly before they ate, his stoic mask in place. He and Inko had tried their best to keep conversation going, but eventually gave up and talked among themselves. 

Izuku, towards the end of dinner, excused himself to go to the restroom. He came back a few minutes later, wiping a fleck of red from the corner of his mouth. Katsuki looked at him, a question in his eyes. Izuku gave a shrug in return. 

The class parted ways after dinner, forgoing their usual hangouts in favor of letting themselves process the news in their own spaces. Inko, despite the school and Aizawa’s offers of a spare room in the teacher’s dorms, decided to go home. She walked with Izuku to the doors of Heights Alliance, Aizawa close behind to escort her back to the gates but far enough away to give them some privacy. 

Inko held her son in an embrace. Izuku curled around her. Despite his taller and more muscular stature, he still fit in her arms as he had when he was little. They broke apart, both smiling through their tears.

“Be strong, baby,” Inko choked, patting his cheek. “Call me when you finish treatment tomorrow.” Izuku nodded and hugged her again before going back inside. Aizawa exited the building and began walking towards the gate with Inko. He had never been the best conversationalist, and so they passed in awkward silence before he spoke.

“Do you want to see my cats?” Inko’ ahead whipped around, a grin on her face. She nodded vehemently. The rest of the walk to the gates had Aizawa showing Inko pictures of his cats on his phone. They met Midnight down at the gates, the heroine dressed in leggings and an oversized cardigan. She smiled at the two, waving. 

“Hello, Ms. Midoriya. I’ll be escorting you home tonight.” Inko blushed and stammered, waving her hands.

“Oh you don’t have to, I don’t want to be any inconvenience.” The two pro-heroes were distinctly reminded of Izuku in that moment. Midnight smiled at her.

“It’s no trouble at all. We want to make sure you get home safe.” Inko stammered her thanks and the two women departed, chatting animatedly. Aizawa watched them go and turned back towards the dorms. 

Chapter Text

Izuku’s foot wouldn’t stop tapping. Throughout his morning classes, he was filled with nervous energy. No one reproached him for his nerves, for which he was thankful. As the class parted for lunch, he received encouraging gestures from his friends. Kaminari shot finger guns at him and Ochako pumped her fist in the air. He smiled and waved as they left. A familiar presence appeared at his side, slinging a muscled arm over his shoulder, hand bumping into the second bag that he carried today. 

“Do you want to eat?” Katsuki asked. Izuku shook his head. “You sure?”

“It’ll just come back up later. And I’m not quite ready to be acquainted with Lunch Rush’s cooking like that.” Katsuki nodded. “You should eat, though. You have training later.” Katsuki shrugged. 

“Want me to walk you over?” Izuku hesitated, then nodded. As much as he would like to throw his fear aside and march headlong into what was waiting for him, Katsuki’s unwavering presence at his side was a promise of safety, of normality, that he craved. Katsuki nodded again and the two walked towards the infirmary, neither boy speaking. 

When they reached the infirmary doors, Izuku stopped. Katsuki looked down at him. Izuku’s face was drawn into an expression that screamed anxiety. Katsuki lifted his other arm and pressed Izuku into his chest. Scarred hands tangled in his school blazer. 

“Text me when you’re done.” Izuku nodded into his chest and they pulled apart. Katsuki waved and walked away, leaving Izuku alone in front of the infirmary doors. He took a sharp breath in and pushed the door open. 

Recovery Girl sat at her desk, filling out paperwork. She looked up at the noise.

“Hello, Mr. Midoriya. I wasn’t expecting you quite yet.” Izuku stepped into the room.

“Hi, Recovery Girl. I…” He trailed off. Recovery Girl seemed to understand the situation. She stood from her chair and walked over, gesturing for him to follow her. They walked to a separate room in the infirmary. A chair that he recognized as one that had, until recently, been in the teacher’s lounge sat in the room, accompanied by an IV pole and other medical equipment. At Izuku’s gaze, Recovery Girl spoke. 

“The teachers got new chairs for the staff room and offered to give this one to me once they heard the news.” Izuku nodded and, at the healer’s gesture, made his way over to the chair and sat down. 

Recovery Girl bustled about the room, hanging IV bags and setting up equipment. At her instruction, Izuku removed his school blazer and rolled his shirt sleeve up so that she could have access to his arm. With practiced movements, she inserted the IV and taped it to his arm. While setting up the drip, she talked.

“For the first few sessions, we’ll administer treatment via IV. If need be, we can use a port in later sessions. This drip should last for about an hour. You’re free to read or do work, but I ask that you don’t leave the room without letting me know. Once the treatment is over, I want you to stay for about fifteen minutes. I’ll do a check and then you’ll be free to go. Understand?” Izuku nodded and Recovery Girl smiled at him. 

“Alright. I’ll be in the next room if you need me.” She departed the room, closing the door behind her. 

Izuku settled in for the next hour. Careful of his IV, Izuku pulled a book and a worn blanket from then second bag that he was carrying. Spreading the blanket over his chest and knees, Izuku drew his legs up so that they curled against his chest. He laid the book against his knees and began to read. He shifted around during the hour, so much so that when Recovery Girl came to take out his IV, one leg dangled across the back of the chair, the other hung off one of the arms, and Izuku’s head was where his feet should be. He had somehow managed to get in this position without disturbing the IV in his arm. Recovery Girl was impressed, but still needed to tend to her patient. She cleared her throat and Izuku jumped and looked at her, his eyes hazy from reading. His face turned even redder and he shifted himself into a more normal sitting position as she approached. 

“Quite the acrobatic display, Mr. Midoriya.”  Izuku looked down in embarrassment.

“Sorry, Recovery Girl. When I read I tend to…end up in a different place than where I started.” Recovery Girl shook her head and laughed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, dear. It was just surprising. And quite amusing.” Izuku grinned up at her. “Alright, then. You’re free to leave. You may experience some symptoms of treatment over the next couple of days, but if it gets too much or something else happens, come to me immediately.” Izuku nodded and stood, before hesitating. Quickly, so quickly that Recovery Girl almost didn’t process it, Izuku threw his arms around her shoulders and squeezed before bowing and running out of the room. Recovery Girl stood in shock for a moment before smiling fondly. She sat back at her desk and thought a moment before pulling out her phone and messaging the teacher’s group chat. Oh, All Might would be so jealous. 

Izuku arrived at an empty dorm. Checking the time on his phone, he realized that his classmates were still having practicals. Taking a moment to assess how he felt, he decided that he felt okay enough to make them dinner. He walked to the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients. He would normally put a little more effort into cooking for the class, but he decided on chili. It was easy to make, and if he started to feel unwell he could leave it to sit on the stove for quite a while. He sautéed onions and shallots and left them to caramelize while he began draining and washing beans and corn. He divided his ingredients into two pots before adding meat to one. He wanted there to be options for everyone. 

He was immensely glad of his choice after a few minutes. As soon as he had put the lid on the last pot, cotton wool descended around his ears and his vision greyed around the edges. His heart pounded in his ears as his chest felt like it was both dipped in ice and set on fire. Using the wall as a guide and to support his weight, he stumbled into the common room, crashing over the back of one of the couches. Izuku closed his eyes against the dizzying feeling in his head. Nausea churned in his stomach and he choked on vomit, keeping a hand clamped over his mouth to stop the wave. He inhaled through his nose, praying that the wave would pass before anyone got there. 

Izuku tried to shift on the couch to pull himself into a less nauseating position, but any movement roiled in his stomach. He was stuck in this position, shaking with the effort of not vomiting on the couch. 

Hands were suddenly on him, large and warm. One pair under his shoulders, another maneuvering his legs. Once Izuku was sitting on the couch, one pair moved away. Izuku was bundled into someone’s arms, muscled and sure. He felt movement. The person seemed to be carrying him somewhere. He couldn’t thank his savior, or even open his eyes to see who they were. The movement paused, and Izuku heard a door whoosh open. The soft scent of lemon cleaner and the tang of disinfectant hit his nose and he knew that he had been taken to the bathroom. A stall door clanged open and he was set down. Just in time too.

Izuku gagged and his breakfast spilled from his lips into the waiting toilet. He gagged and coughed. A warm hand stroked at his back as he fell to his knees with the force of his vomiting. Izuku panted, finally able to take a full breath, and turned hazy green eyes to look at whoever had brought him there. Katsuki stood at his back, his brow crinkled in concern. Todoroki stood at the entrance to the bathroom, his hands fluttering. Todoroki’s normally stoic face was twisted, as if he couldn’t decide if he was upset or nauseated. Katsuki’s calloused hands brushed his hair back, and Izuku’s eyes closed. 

“Hey, Zuku.” Katsuki’s voice was soft. Izuku replied by turning away and vomiting again, coughing when he was done. Katsuki’s warm hand came to rest on his neck, his thumb rubbing a comforting circle into the skin there. Izuku spat a wet glob of saliva and blood into the toilet basin. Katsuki wrinkled his nose.

“Dude, gross.” Izuku huffed a soundless laugh as Katsuki crouched down, setting his knees down on the cold tile. Izuku crumpled into Katsuki’s chest, absolutely exhausted. He made a small noise of pain at the back of his throat, and pressed his head back against where it was pillowed against Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki’s voice rumbled against his back.

“You good, or do you need to stay here?” Izuku paused, considering.

“I’m okay for now. First wave is done.” Izuku felt Katsuki’s arms wrap around his waist as the blonde hauled him to his feet. He swayed, dizzy at the sudden change, before feeling himself being picked up, Katsuki’s arms sliding under his legs and around his back. 

“I’ve got you, nerd.” Izuku’s arms came up and slid around Katsuki’s neck, acting as an anchor against the movement. Izuku closed his eyes, the light of the bathroom pounding into his irises. Katsuki’s voice came next to his ear, soft and gentle.

“You want to go to the common room or your dorm?” Izuku screwed his eyes up. His room meant privacy, but also a lot more movement. The common room was much closer, but then his classmates would see him like this. Izuku clutched the fabric of Katsuki’s shirt and pressed his forehead into the blonde’s shoulder. Katsuki huffed a laugh.

“Okay, common room it is. You looked like you were about to puke at the thought of going upstairs. I can tell the extras to back off.” Izuku shrugged, his face still pressed into Katsuki’s chest. The blonde looked over at Todoroki. 

“IcyHot can you get some water?” Todoroki nodded and strode off in the direction of the dorm kitchens. Katsuki followed him at a much more subdued pace, trying to minimize the movement of the precious cargo in his arms. As they reached the common room, Katsuki knelt down and laid Izuku on the couch. The green-haired boy almost immediately curled onto his side, a hand covering his mouth. Katsuki rubbed his back soothingly. 

Todoroki returned, a bottle of water and a bucket in hand. Katsuki nodded in thanks at the dual quirk user, who nodded back before departing once again to the kitchen. Katsuki turned back to Izuku’s prone form. 

Izuku looked miserable. His hand was firmly clamped around his mouth, and he shook with small convulsions as he fought the urge to dry heave. His brow was beaded with sweat and his bright green eyes were hazy. Katsuki’s brow furrowed in concern and sympathy. His calloused hands came up to grasp Izuku’s free one, his thumb skimming over the other’s scarred knuckles. Izuku’s hand squeezed back. 

“Water’s by your head, bucket on the floor in case you need it. Do you want me to stay or do you want space?” Katsuki saw Izuku’s eyes close and felt the hand in his squeeze tighter. 

“I’ll stay, Zuku.” Izuku gave the slightest of nods and Katsuki stood up before lifting Izuku’s head. Katsuki maneuvered himself and Izuku so that the boy’s head was resting on his lap. Katsuki carded his hand through Izuku’s curls, now deflated with sweat. The green haired boy was too exhausted to be embarrassed, instead wrapping one arm around Katsuki’s knees in a comforting embrace. This is how the two stayed for the rest of the afternoon. Izuku fell asleep in Katsuki’s lap. 

It seemed that Todoroki had warned the rest of the class of Izuku’s status, because when they inevitably came in, everyone was quiet enough that Katsuki didn’t have to yell at them. He shot a grateful glance at Todoroki. Their classmates passed the couch, Iida pausing to ruffle Izuku’s hair. They departed, some staying in the common room and others to the kitchen. After a few minutes, Todoroki came out holding a steaming bowl of food. At Katsuki’s questioning look, the other boy spoke.

“It seems that Midoriya made everyone food when he returned from Recovery Girl’s office.” Katsuki nodded. He accepted the bowl from the other boy and began to eat. It was warm and good, although Katsuki wished it were spicier. He finished his meal quickly, setting the bowl aside and turning his attention to Izuku once more. He wanted the boy to sleep - lord knows that he could use the rest - but wanted to move him to his dorm room. He thought for a minute, then pulled out Izuku’s phone. He typed in the other boy’s code and pulled up his messages. 

Deku: hey kirby do me a favor use your quirk to make deku float im taking him to his room

Uwuravity: hi bakugo

Uwuravity: sure be there soon

Katsuki locked Izuku’s phone and slid it into one of his pockets. He heard the distinct sound of house slippers against the floor and turned his head to see Uraraka. She ignored him, instead opting to pat Izuku’s curls with one hand. Katsuki felt the comforting weight of Izuku’s head on his lap disappear as the boy’s body began to float. Izuku mumbled something in his sleep and turned his head, still dead to the world. Katsuki stood up, seeing Uraraka holding her hand over Izuku’s chest to prevent him from floating to the ceiling. Katsuki quickly cracked his back and grabbed Izuku around the waist, making sure to not disturb his position. The two walked towards the elevators. As the doors to the elevators closed, Uraraka spoke.

“Not that it isn’t lovely to see you, Bakugo, but why did you ask for my help? I know that you can carry Deku easily.” Katsuki huffed.

“Deku gets really nauseous after chemo, and me carrying him around doesn’t help. I thought that if we floated him up here, it’d be easier on him.” Uraraka nodded, a small grin on her face.

“I didn’t know that the big, bad Bakugo had a soft side.” Katsuki growled at her. She just laughed. 

“Watch it, Kirby.” Uraraka stuck her tongue out at him and darted out of the elevator doors, her hand on Izuku’s wrist. Katsuki quickly caught up to her as they reached Izuku’s dorm door. He fumbled for a moment, realizing that he had left Izuku’s bag down in the common room. Before he could groan in frustration, Uraraka unlocked the dorm door. He looked at her in shock. She rolled her eyes and held up Izuku’s bag, which she had grabbed before they had left. 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Grumpy. I’m not after your boyfriend.” Katsuki spluttered in shock, before pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. 

“The fuck are you going on about, Kirby?” Uraraka walked over to Izuku’s bed, pressing her palm on the boy’s chest to lower him to the waiting bed. She slung a leg over his chest to hold him down as she steepled her fingers and whispered a quiet “release”.  Izuku sighed in his sleep and curled into a ball, one hand wrapping around his stomach. Uraraka sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at Katsuki. She patted the edge of the bed next to her. He rolled his eyes but sat down anyway. 

“Bakugo, I know that you like Izuku. The whole pigtail-pulling thing you had going on was annoying, but you’re finally past that. You are less than subtle, Grumpypants. But Izuku’s my best friend. I tell him pretty much everything. He’s actually the one that helped me realize that I like Mina. I don’t want to see him hurt.” Katsuki sighed. 

“Guess I haven’t really done anything to make you trust me, have I?” Uraraka shrugged.

“I’ve seen some bad things. But I’ve also seen some good. I guess the jury’s still out. So why don’t you prove it through your actions?”

“You sound like a mom.”

“Well, I do consider myself to be the ‘mom friend’ of the Dekusquad.” Katsuki snorted at her words.

“Does this count as a fucking shovel talk, Kirby?” Uraraka hummed, pressing a finger to her chin. Eventually she shook her head.

“Nah. I’ll let Iida do that.” 

“Gotta be honest, Kirby. Kind of a letdown. Between you and Engines, you’re the one more likely to kick my ass.” Uraraka laughed.

“You flatter me, Bakugo.” Katsuki grinned. They lapsed into silence for a minute. Then Katsuki looked over at her with a devious grin.

“So...Mina?” Uraraka’s face went bright red and she clapped her hands over her face, accidentally activating her quirk. She began to float up to the ceiling, Katsuki roaring with laughter while watching her float. She moved her hands away from her face, her expression drawn into an adorably angry one. 

“Do NOT tell her. In fact, don’t tell anyone. I have leverage over you, Katsuki Bakugo, and I’m not afraid to use it.” Katsuki raised his hands in surrender, still chuckling. 

“Jeez, Kirby. Who do you think I am, some kind of monster?” He sighed. “And here I was, going to try to get you two together. Ah, I guess I’ll just let Mina stew in her pining as usual.” Katsuki felt a hand around his upper arm. He looked up into Uraraka’s red face. She smacked his arm once, careful not to activate her quirk.

“Watch it, Kirby!”

“You watch it, Blasty Boy!” Katsuki rolled his eyes and reached up, yanking Uraraka down so that she was sitting next to him. She steepled her fingers to release her quirk. He looked over at her.

“I’m just saying. I don’t think Mina’ll say no if you ask her out. She already has Uravity merch.” Uraraka flushed, barely avoiding activating her quirk by Katsuki yanking her hands away from her face.

“Fuck, stop doing that, Kirby. You’ll make yourself sick.” 

“Aww, you do have a soft side. Now I get why Deku keeps calling you ‘Kacchan’ after all this time.” Katsuki growled. Uraraka raised her hands up, grinning. He slumped over.

“Just...just think about it, Kirbs.” Uraraka smiled, a soft expression on her face.

“Okay, Mr. Grumpy. I will.” He grinned and ruffled her hair. She slapped his hand away with a laugh before standing up. 

“As much fun as this has been, I’m going to go wrangle the Dekusquad. Tenya’s halfway to busting in here and chopping the sickness out. Todoroki may or may not have possession of Endeavor’s credit card, and he is not afraid to use it.” Katsuki snorted.

“Have fun maxing that shit out.” Uraraka grinned and gave him a thumbs up. As she walked out the door, she looked over his shoulder.

“He’s lucky to have you, Bakugo.” Katsuki turned and looked at the boy sleeping peacefully next to him. Green hair splayed against a pillow and Izuku’s eyes were closed, relaxed in sleep. He looked younger, and oh so fragile. Katsuki thought of shining green eyes, a soft and gentle voice, and power raised only in the defence of others.

“Nah, Kirby. I’m the lucky one.”

Chapter Text

Izuku woke to the swaying sensation of a spinning room. He opened his eyes just to shut them again. The light in the room was dim, but blinded him all the same. His mouth felt dry, achy, and stuffed with cotton. Izuku’s head pounded even as his stomach churned. If Izuku moved even an inch, the floorboards would be stained with stomach acid. 

The green-haired boy let out a small whine from the back of his throat, the noise soft and pitiful. Izuku was too miserable to care about how pathetic he looked. Izuku felt a soft sheet under his palm, familiar patches of threadbaredness signalling that it was his own bed that he laid upon. He lay on his side, his legs curled up to his chest in an effort to stave off the nausea that he knew would soon make itself apparent. 

A soft chime echoed out from somewhere above his head. Izuku decided to ignore it, thinking that no communication could be worth the sensation it would take. He groaned, resigning himself to a day with little movement and lots of nausea. A soft knock fell upon the wooden door. Even with the quiet volume of the knock, the sound still resonated uncomfortably in the cavern of his head. Instead of responding, Izuku groaned in the direction of the door. He heard the lock unlatch and the quiet squeak of the hinges as the door was pushed open. A small beam of light, barely there and mostly blocked by the presence at the door, crawled across the floor. Izuku closed his eyes as the door closed, only able to tolerate a few sensations at a time without the feeling of bile creeping up his throat. 

Soft footsteps padded across the floor and Izuku felt the mattress dip as the person sat on the edge of his bed. A large hand brushed his curls back, the scent of caramel wafting past his nose. Izuku pressed his forehead into the large palm, a small whine of discomfort escaping his lips. A rough voice, soft and melodic, caressed his ears as gently as the hand tangled in his hair.

“Hey, Zuku.” The green-haired boy blearily peeled one eyelid open. A fuzzy halo of ashy blonde spikes floated in front of his eyes, the dim light of the corridor’s bulbs glancing off of crimson as the shape turned. Izuku breathed in to respond, but felt a wave of bile creep up his throat. Clapping a hand over his mouth, he turned away from Katsuki and screwed his eyes shut, willing his unrepentant stomach to settle. The hand on his head switched quickly to his back, tracing firey nonsensical circles on his clothed and tingling skin. 

The bed shifted as Katsuki stood up. Izuku heard the soft footfalls of sock-covered feet as the blonde walked away. Izuku desperately wanted to reach his arm out to the other boy, to beg him to stay. But his body revolted. He gagged twice, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he fought against the nausea. Just as Izuku felt hot liquid drip onto his hand, Katsuki’s strong ones wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him towards the edge of the bed. One hand left and wrapped around his wrist. It pulled. Izuku resisted it. He was nauseous, in pain, and more than a bit mortified at his position. Still the hand pulled.

“I brought a bucket, dumbass.” The ghost of Katsuki’s words brushed against the shell of his ear, phantom warmth loosening the rigidity of his shoulders. Izuku let go of his face and vomited into the bucked Katsuki had brought. He coughed and spluttered, gasping as the episode came to an end. The whole time, a gentle fire carved its path into his bones, Katsuki’s hand ghosting down his spine. Izuku slumped forwards, exhausted. 

“You all done?” Katsuki asked. His voice held no contempt, no pity. Izuku nodded. “Can you stand up?” Instead of answering, Izuku simply shot Katsuki an incredulous look. The blonde laughed softly, his tone flecked with fondness.

“Dumb question, I know. Shoulda remembered how much this shit takes out of you.” Katsuki leaned forward and pressed his lips to Izuku’s temple. “C’mon, Zuku. Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Izuku didn’t register Katsuki’s movements until the boy swept him into his arms in one fluid movement. Izuku laid his head against Katsuki’s broad chest, cradling his vomit-soaked hand to his chest. He pressed into the other boy’s heart, his body beginning to tremble as he grew cold. Katsuki shifted Izuku in his arms, holding the other boy closer. The blonde nudged the bathroom door open with his foot. He flicked the light switch on with his elbow and strode across the space, lowering Izuku onto the closed toilet seat. He turned away. 

Izuku heard the sound of running water as his eyes began to flutter. The image of Katsuki at the sink faded in and out, the edges blurring into grey static. Izuku felt his body sway as cottony wool settled over his ears. He blinked, trying to clear away the haze. The harsh lights of the bathroom pulsed against the back of his skull. Izuku’s vision went white. The green-haired boy heard the rustling of fabric as his body tipped forward. This is gonna hurt , Izuku thought as he fell, too weak to hold his body up on his own. Izuku’s head met something firm and warm, pillowed in fabric. Blessed darkness washed over his vision. Twin fires lit on his back, taking the shape of hands in Izuku’s mind’s eye. Soft gasps escaped his lips. One of the hands drifted up from his spine to the back of his neck, burning fingers scratching at the delicate curls. Izuku reached up and placed his hand where his forehead met fabric. His fingers curled in the material, green curls pressed into the warmth in front of him.

Slowly, Izuku’s vision cleared. The murky shape of someone’s legs in front of him swam across his retinas. The wool that had settled over his ears began to fade, the soft voice coming from the person in front of him filtering through the haze. 

“Just breathe, Zuku. I’ve got you.” Katsuki’s voice was low and soothing. To Izuku, the other boy’s presence was a balm, soothing the pain he felt and muting the nausea. Izuku’s breath shuddered against Katsuki’s clothed stomach. His hand, previously dangling uselessly between his splayed legs, wrapped around Katsuki’s waist. Izuku sagged against Katsuki’s waist.

“Sorry,” Izuku gasped, his voice little more than a choked whisper, “got dizzy.” Katsuki shushed him, his hand stroking the green curls. 

“Not your fucking fault, Zuku. Think you can sit up on your own?” Izuku nodded against the other boy’s stomach. Katsuki laughed softly to himself. His hands wrapped around Izuku’s shoulders and pushed him back slightly. Izuku dropped his own hands from around Katsuki’s waist to wrap around the rim of the closed lid under him. Katsuki leaned away for a moment before returning with a damp washcloth in hand. A calloused hand came up and cupped his face, the thumb brushing softly against his cheekbone. 

Izuku leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed at the contact. Katsuki kneeled in front of the other boy, their heads level. One bleary green eye cracked open as a scarred hand latched onto Katsuki’s wrist. Izuku turned his face towards Katsuki’s palm and pressed his lips to the sensitive skin there. The blonde felt the gentle puff of warm breath against his palm, the softness of the petal-plush lips against the calloused skin. Katsuki’s hand dragged gently down one freckled cheek to cup Izuku’s chin. He tilted the smaller boy’s head back gently, his thumb continuing its ministrations on the freckled skin. With his other hand, he brought the forgotten washcloth. He used his quirk to gently warm the fabric, then pressed the damp surface to Izuku’s face. He dragged the washcloth across the other boy’s skin, his touch light and gentle.

Izuku’s eyes had closed once again, a soft hum escaping his throat at the feeling of the warm washcloth. Katsuki quickly switched hands. His free hand came up to the side of Izuku’s neck, his hand splayed to support the weight of his head. As he finished his last pass over Izuku’s skin, Katsuki leaned forward and pressed his lips in a feather-light caress to the freckle at the outer corner of Izuku’s right eye. The blonde felt small hands rest on his cheeks. Green eyes met his own, sparkling despite the exhaustion lining his face. Katsuki felt his heart pound, ramming against the walls of his chest. Katsuki’s voice came out, almost too soft to hear.

“Was that...was that okay?” Izuku nodded, a smile crinkling his eyes. Katsuki smiled, his chest deflating in relief. Green met red. “Can I kiss you?” Katsuki whispered, afraid that if he spoke louder, he would wake up from this dream. Izuku leaned forward, his lips a hairs breadth away from Katsuki’s. 

“Please, Kacchan,” he whispered. And Katsuki, brusque and fiery and desperately adoring, was helpless to do anything but gladly comply. Their lips met, Izuku’s hands sliding down so that his thumbs brushed against Katsuki’s cheeks. Katsuki’s hand, the one not cradling Izuku’s head, came to rest on his waist. They fit together as if crafted from the same slab of clay, fractured pieces finding their places within each other and filling the fissures with glittering gold. Katsuki pulled away the slightest bit, red eyes warming the harsh light of the bathroom.

“Are you crying?” Katsuki’s lips ghosted over Izuku’s as he spoke, his voice gentle and amused. Izuku became aware of the wetness of his face. Katsuki removed his hand from Izuku’s waist to brush an errant tear away. “Damn crybaby,” Katsuki grinned fondly. Izuku huffed a small laugh as Katsuki’s arms encircled him. Izuku laid his head on Katsuki’s shoulder. A warm hand stroked slowly up and down his spine. 

Izuku was content to stay in the safety of Katsuki’s arms. Unfortunately, a loud banging erupted from the dorm door. The green-haired boy flinched at the noise, small spikes driven into his brain. Katsuki growled in annoyance. He pressed his forehead gently to Izuku’s shoulder and stood up. 

“I’m going to see what idiot is busting down your door. Yell if you need me.” Green curls swayed as Izuku nodded softly. A soft smile graced Katsuki’s face before he exited the bathroom, a familiar scowl settling over his features. He stomped over to the door and threw it open. Mineta’s slimy face grinned up at him.

“No.” Katsuki slammed the door closed. He laughed at the indignant yelp that he heard through the door as he walked back to Izuku. Green eyes met red as he entered. Izuku quirked his head sideways in a silent question. Katsuki softened as he strode forwards. He brushed green curls away from the boy’s forehead.

“No one important, Zuku. Now let’s get you to bed.” Katsuki gathered Izuku’s compact body towards his chest and padded back over to the rumpled bed. He laid the smaller boy down and shifted the covers so that only Izuku’s head was visible. Katsuki smiled softly and made to stand up but stopped. A scarred hand had wrapped around his wrist, holding the limb gently. Izuku looked down, almost bashfully.

“Need anything, Zuku?”

“Stay with me?” Katsuki grinned and, instead of replying, pulled back the bed covers and laid down next to the other boy. He felt an arm wrap gently around his waist as he pulled the sheets over their bodies. The blonde laid his arm over Izuku’s shoulders as the smaller boy buried his head into Katsuki’s chest. The green-haired boy let out a soft noise, sounding like a purring cat. As Izuku faded into sleep, he felt lips pressing gently at his forehead.

Chapter Text

Aizawa sunk in the desk chair in the UA conference room, his arms crossed. The 1-A teachers slowly filed in, followed closely by Nezu and Recovery Girl. Last to arrive was All Might, his emaciated form towering over his seatmates. Some chattered amongst themselves while others sat down quietly. The room was tinged with an apprehensive feel, the tension of something about to happen weighing down even the liveliest of words. As the last teachers took their seats, Aizawa sighed softly. Silence rang through the room for a moment.

“Thank you all for coming so quickly,” Aizawa said, his voice tinged with exhaustion, “although I desperately wish it were under different circumstances.” At his words, everyone straightened in their chairs, attention fully on the underground hero. Midnight spoke, her voice hesitant.

“Eraser, what’s wrong? Are the kids okay?” Aizawa let out another breath, hitching slightly. Before he could respond, Recovery Girl spoke.

“I’ll take over, Eraserhead. You’ve been called here today to discuss the health status of one of our students. As this health status will affect his ability to participate in certain aspects of classes, he and his mother have given me permission to share this information with you. Izuku Midoriya came into the infirmary last week where he was diagnosed with Stage Four Large Cell Neuroendocrine Carcinoma.” The pro-heroes in front of her looked at her blankly. She sighed. “It’s a type of lung cancer.” Gasps rang through the room. Present Mic looked on the verge of tears, and Cementoss already had telltale streaks of darkness on his broad face. All Might was holding his head in his hands, a lost expression on his face. Aizawa grit his teeth together.

“Yes, this is an awful thing to happen. But our job, our priority, is to help Midoriya in any way that we can. Save your grief, or use it in a constructive way. Now is not the time or place to fall apart.” Despite the hero’s harsh words, the other pros in the room could tell that his normally deadpan voice was choked with emotion. “The purpose of this meeting is to make a plan on how we can modify our lessons with him in mind.” Snipe cleared his throat. 

“I think the first pressin’ thing to thing about is how this’ll play into his practical classes,” The hero’s voice was even and steady due to his modulator, “We should focus on comin’ up with an alternative for that first.” Nedzu cleared his throat.

“I believe that I may have a solution on that front,” the stoat said, his normally cheery voice subdued, “I’ve mentioned this many times to Aizawa, here, but I am interested in taking Midoriya on as my personal student. Even untrained, his analysis is on par with many professionals.” Aizawa nodded.

“Thank you, sir. I’ve broached the subject with him based on your previous requests, and he seemed open to the idea.” The stoat smiled. Midnight spoke next.

“Do we have a time frame for how long Midoriya will still be able to attend classes in-person?” Everyone looked over to her. 

“Time frame?”

“Well, I’m assuming Midoriya will be having chemotherapy or radiation treatments.” Recovery Girl nodded.

“He’s starting them on Friday.”

“Okay. Well, it’s a pretty well-known fact that those types of treatments can seriously weaken not only someone’s physical body, but their immune system as well. We need to be aware of this, and around how long it’ll take before it gets dangerous for Midoriya to be around his classmates. We also need to think about what happens then. Will he stay in the dorms or be taken to a hospital?” 

“That’s a bit of a complicated question, but I’m glad that you’re bringing it up,” Recovery Girl said, “Chemo treatments weaken the immune system initially after treatment for around forty eight hours. The longer it goes on, and by extension, the longer the immune system is repressed, the more vulnerable the immune system will become. This is part of the reason that we decided to have his treatment on Fridays: not only will his body have time to recover from the side effects of the treatment, he’ll have more time for his immune system to bounce back. However, because of the nature of the treatment, he’ll still be vulnerable. Moreso the longer he’s having treatment.” 

“And how long will that be?” Hound Dog asked.

“It’s a well-known fact that it’s quite hard to tell, especially with a mass on the lungs. If it was a lymph node, it would be easier. I’ve decided to do an initial treatment plan of 6 weeks. After that time, we can reassess the mass and see if it’s shrunk. From there - depending on the state of the mass - we can either start another cycle of treatment or begin surgery. The added complication to this, however, is that he is in a late stage of the disease. The cancer cells have metastasized.” 

“Meta-what?”

“Metastasized. It means that the cells from the original tumor have spread to different parts of the body. Quite luckily, I’ve only been able to find one other tumor, which was on a rib. We want to halt the spread as much as we can, so that there won’t be more tumors to worry about.”

“That’s awful! So does that mean he has multiple types of cancer?”

“No. When the cells metastasize, it’s still considered the type from the original tumor. But to answer your original question, Midnight, it’s tricky, but I estimate about 10 weeks, especially if we need to continue chemotherapy.” Midnight nodded, looking slightly sick. “And in regards to the other part of your question, I’m not sure. I know that we have the facilities here to help him, even after that point is reached, but a hospital dedicated to hero-specific cases could be a good idea as well. Once that point has been reached, I’ll give him and his mother the information about both options. But I’m leaving the decision up to the two of them. It’s his life that’s being affected, after all.” The room was quiet.

“When that time comes, we can alter lesson plans and maybe do a video-call if he wants to participate during class. If not, we can record lectures for him or come to meet him. We won’t let the little listener down, and we won’t make him feel isolated.” Present Mic’s voice trembled, but the steeliness of the resolve in his words rang true through everyone’s chests. 

“Midoriya’s a strong kid. We’re behind him every step of the way.” It was Snipe. The modulator kept his voice from betraying his emotions, but the subtle shake of his shoulders belied his true feelings. 

Aizawa nodded at everyone, a rare smile on his lips. Nedzu spoke again.

“I’m glad that we were able to discuss this and make a plan so early on in the process. Now, everyone is free to go. Yagi, I’d like to speak to you for a moment.” The shuffle of chairs echoed through the room as the pro heroes left. Aizawa was swept away by Present Mic’s arm, the blonde’s eyes dripping with emotion. Midnight walked beside Recovery Girl as she left, her voice quiet as she asked questions about Izuku’s disease. Soon, the only two people in the room were Nedzu and All Might. The stoat turned to the blonde.

“So, All Might, what do you plan to do about One for All?”

Chapter Text

When Izuku woke again, the room had stopped spinning. His body felt heavy and sore. Something warm and weighted lay across his waist. Izuku’s forehead was pressed into a broad chest, the heartbeat in front of him thrumming softly in his brain cavity. Tired green eyes trailed the line of the neck in front of him to land on Katsuki’s face. He was wreathed in sunlight, blonde spikes blurred in the beams, forming a soft halo. In that moment, Izuku thought that he looked celestial, a star come down to Earth. The blonde’s head was turned away from Izuku, reading something on his phone. Izuku blinked, not sure if he wanted Katsuki to notice that he was awake. Suddenly, those crimson eyes, lit on fire by the gentle light of the sun streaming through his dorm windows, flickered down to meet his own. The fire simmered, intense and unobtrusive in equal measure. Izuku felt so small in that gaze. 

“Sleep okay, Zu?” Katsuki’s voice was gentle, his words rumbling through the barrier of his chest to vibrate in Izuku’s own. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Katsuki grinned at him. It was a soft expression, one rarely seen on the volatile blonde. A warm and calloused hand came up and brushed through his curls. Izuku melted under the tender touch, his eyelids fluttering shut gently as Katsuki carded through his hair. 

“Your phone’s been blowing up.” At the words, Izuku’s eyes shot open. His breath came faster as he wrenched himself up. Katsuki sat up behind him, his face drawn.

“Zuku, what’s wrong?” 

“My mom,” Izuku’s words sounded frantic, “I was supposed to text her but I forgot. Oh, she’s gonna be so worried.” A large hand grasped his chin and turned his face towards Katsuki. 

“Zuku, chill the fuck out. I already texted her yesterday. Figured she’d want to know, and you were knocked out.” Izuku’s heart pounded even as he sighed in relief. “I’ve got you, shitty nerd.” Izuku leaned into Katsuki’s chest, closing his eyes. A hand came up and wrapped around his upper arm, squeezing once in reassurance. 

“Thank you, Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice was a little hoarse as he spoke. “Wha- what time is it? And what day?” 

“It’s 8 am on Saturday.”

“Saturday?”

“Yeah, nerd. Why?”

“Last night, when you… when you helped me. Oh god, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry!” Izuku’s breaths began to come more quickly. Katsuki looked dumbfounded.

“Zuku what the fuck are you talking about? It was only like 10 pm.” Oh. Izuku dropped his head back against Katsuki’s chest. A deep rumble of laughter echoed in the blonde as his arms came up to wrap around Izuku’s waist.

“You need a fucking Klonopin or something, nerd.” Katsuki’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. “And even if it was one in the fucking morning, I’d still be there for you.” Izuku felt lips press into his forehead as a small laugh escaped his chest. 

Now that the initial panic of waking up was over, Izuku felt Katsuki’s stomach rumble. The blonde flushed in embarrassment as Izuku looked up, a small grin on his face. 

“Are you hungry, Kacchan?”

“No. Fuck you.” Izuku laughed at Katsuki’s denial. He pushed a hand against the other boy’s chest.

“Go eat, dummy.” Katsuki rolled his eyes even as he made to stand. Izuku flopped back down. The blonde turned to him, holding out a hand. Izuku looked at him, nonplussed. 

“What.”

“You’re coming with me, Zuku. You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. And I know for a fucking fact that it didn’t stay down. So let’s go.” Izuku rolled his eyes. “Zuku, you’ll get dehydrated and feel like shit. At least have some water and broth.” Izuku stared at Katsuki. Katsuki stared back. With a small huff, Izuku relented, pulling back the sheets to stand. He almost immediately fell into Katsuki’s chest, a wave of dizziness washing over him. Strong arms held him up as Izuku fought to regain his breathing. 

“Want me to carry you?” Izuku shook his head. He wanted to remain as independent as possible for as long as he could. He knew that soon enough just getting to the common room would feel like running a marathon. Izuku wanted to savor as much normalcy as he could. And the green haired boy couldn’t help but feel a small flush of embarrassment at the thought of being carried like some wilting flower. 

“I can do this, Kacchan.” And Katsuki seemed to understand the meaning behind Izuku’s words. He nodded and gestured to the door. 

The walk to the common room was an arduous task. As soon as they had reached the elevator, Izuku felt cotton wool muffle the sounds around him. He sagged into Katsuki’s side, shaking. Katsuki looked down at him, wanting to help but knowing how important this was to the green haired boy. As the elevator opened onto the ground floor, the two walked out. Izuku was leaning against Katsuki as they made their way to the couches. Todoroki and Mina sat there, the former helping the latter with an upcoming assignment. Mina waved excitedly, her movements quickly becoming aborted as she saw Izuku’s pallor. Katsuki pushed against the strong shoulders and Izuku collapsed into the couch cushions gratefully. Green eyes slipped closed in relief. Katsuki squatted down in front of the other boy.

“I’ll bring you something, ‘kay?” Izuku nodded, smiling softly at the blonde. A large calloused hand ruffled his hair as Katsuki stood up again and left for the kitchen. Suddenly, his vision was filled with pink. Izuku blinked as Mina bent down so that they were face to face. 

“Hi Mido!”

“Hi, Mina.” Izuku smiled at his friend, her grin growing wider at the use of her given name. She flopped down into the seat next to him, her former study partner looking slightly annoyed at her abandonment of their session. Mina, seeing this, snorted.

“C’mon, Todoroki! Five minute break? We’ve been doing this for an hour!” Todoroki sighed, then shrugged and nodded. He stood up and walked towards the kitchen.

“Grumpy.” Mina pouted. “So, the gossip train has been moving this morning! Apparently, Koda met a bird that talked to a squirrel that talked to a raccoon that saw Hawks fall into a dumpster last night.” Izuku snorted. 

“That’s...ironically enough kind of on-brand for him.”

“Right? He kinda has that whole ‘I’m Daredevil and super hot but a garbage human’ vibe going on.” 

“Would that make Endeavor Foggy Nelson?”

“No, not enough sexual tension from devotion to each other. Give it a year or so, though.” Izuku couldn’t help but laugh, turning his face into Mina’s shoulder as she rambled on about the implications between Endeavor and Hawks.

“I thought that Hawks had a thing for Dabi, though.”

“Ooh, Mido’s into enemies-to-lovers, is he? Honestly, I agree with you. Endeavor’s more of a Fisk anyways.” A toneless voice came from in front of them.

“Can we please not talk about my father’s apparent romantic tryst with Hawks? I need to be able to look him in the eye this week.” Todoroki stood in the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed. Mina laughed.

“Sorry, Todoroki!” Izuku smiled as he leaned his head against Mina’s shoulders. Todoroki walked back into the kitchen, exasperated but smiling. As Mina’s breath evened out, Izuku grinned.

“Y’know, Mina. Rumor has it that someone has a crush on a certain anti-gravity hero.” Mina stopped, her cheeks flushing. Her eyes widened as she looked at Izuku’s curly hair. “In my opinion, I think that this certain someone should ask her out. Especially since said anti-gravity hero gave me a thirty minute lecture last week on how ‘Alien Queen’ would have been such a better hero name and ‘It just fits her, Deku, because she’s so regal and could kill a man’. Not to mention the Pinky plush she has in her room.” 

“Do you think she’d say yes?” 

“Mina, I think she’s halfway to asking you to rent a U-Haul with her. Shoot your shot.” Mina laughed, burying her head in his hair. Izuku shivered slightly, leaning into Mina’s side. Her arm came up and wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Cold, Mido?” Izuku nodded, looking away from her gaze. Mina slumped onto his shoulder, wrapping her arm more securely around his waist. “Don’t worry, Mido. I’ll keep you warm until your man gets here.” Izuku went bright red as Mina cackled, squeezing his shoulders. The two made eye contact, Izuku reproachful and Mina unrepentant. Izuku’s green eyes looked away first. Mina pumped her fist slightly, her free hand pulling out her phone and shooting off a quick text. Footsteps crept behind him and suddenly his vision was covered in dusky rose. The gentle downy surface of a blanket fluttered down over his shoulders and across his chest, two elegant hands tucking the fabric around his chin. Yaoyorozu’s face, regal and gentle, smiled at him upside down. Izuku opened his mouth to speak, to thank her with a distinct feeling of guilt roiling in his stomach for her having to use her quirk on him.

“I hope that it’s alright that I made this for you, Midoriya,” Yaoyorozu spoke, her voice lilting with the barest hint of a smile, “You looked cold.”

“Thank you, Yaoyorozu,” he answered, “It’s wonderful. And so soft. You are absolutely incredible.” The dark-haired girl smiled at him, cheeks dusted with pink. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his curls before walking away. Izuku, despite his pallor, flushed. Yaoyorozu laughed as she walked around the couch, sinking gently into the space beside Mina. 

“Yaomomo!” Uraraka’s bubbly voice sounded out from behind the couch. She slung her arms loosely around Izuku’s neck, nuzzling gently into his curls. One scarred hand came up and wrapped gently around her wrist, squeezing twice. She grinned down at him before walking to the arm of the couch and sitting down, leaning against the back of the couch. 

Jirou ruffled Izuku’s hair as she walked by and sank down to sit next to Yaoyorozu. Her hand slid down to pat his cheek gently as she passed. 

Tsuyu and Hagakure walked in, immediately heading over to the couch. Tsu leaned over the back of the couch much like Uraraka had. She placed her chin on top of his head. Hagakure leaned in and pressed her lips onto his forehead. The two girls went to find their perches around the couch.

Izuku, by this time, was the color of Kirishima’s hair. Mina cackled at his misfortune, patting his curls in mock sympathy. Izuku still wasn’t quite used to such an overwhelming amount of positive, gentle attention. The rest of the class trickled in slowly.

“How does Midoriya get all the girls?” Mineta whined, “He’s not even into them.” Kirishima snorted.

“Maybe because he treats them like people instead of objects, Mineta.” The short boy scoffed and grumbled under his breath. Kirishima assumed that it was something perverse trying to be used as an example of the opposite. Kirishima made to walk over to the couch, but withering glares from all but one of the occupants stopped him in his tracks. The outlier’s eyes fluttered closed against a pink shoulder. Kirishima held up his hands in surrender, grinning at the makeshift nest. Mineta grumbled in the corner.

Katsuki left the kitchen, a steaming mug in hand. He quickly found himself at the mercy of the couch’s stare. He glared right back and gestured between the mug he held and the boy dozing on Mina’s shoulder. The girls looked at each other, a silent conversation portrayed only through their eyes and the minute lifting of brows. They nodded, and Mina spoke.

“The Council has decided that you may approach.” Katsuki rolled his eyes, bowing with what he hoped was the appropriate amount of sarcasm. Mina’s golden eyes locked onto Katsuki’s every move. As Katsuki arrived at the couch, he knelt down in front of the green-haired boy. Izuku’s eyes fluttered open again as he felt a warm and calloused hand brush against his cheek. Crimson eyes gazed at him, soft and gentle.

“Hi, Kacchan.”

“Hi, Zuku. C’mon, gimme your hands.” Izuku held his hands out, allowing Katsuki to wrap them around the mug. “If you can hold this down, I’ll make you some rice.” Izuku nodded and gave the blonde a small, tired smile. Katsuki grinned at him and pressed a small kiss to his temple before straightening up. 

Izuku sipped the warm liquid in his hands. Katsuki had made him broth. It was salty and spicy and comforting. The taste brought him back years. When Katsuki and Izuku had still been best friends - before Izuku got sick - Mitsuki would make them broth during the cold winter months. The blonde would always add hot sauce for him, somehow knowing exactly what level of spice Izuku wanted. Izuku shivered in delight at the taste and shifted on the couch, curling his legs up onto the cushion and burrowing more closely into Mina’s side. Her pink arm squeezed his shoulder. 

Kaminari and Sero had, by this time, somehow dragged the bolted-down couches from their various places in the common room so that the class all sat in a loose circle. The atmosphere of the room was a soft sort of contentment, tinged only slightly with a bittersweet desperation. The girls held fast to their claimed couch, Ochaco not moving from her perch on the arm of the chair. 

Kirishima and Kaminari ended up sharing a couch with Todoroki, Iida, and Tokoyami. Dark Shadow slid across the gap between couches and, with permission from The Council, curled up in Izuku’s lap. Sato and Shoji talked quietly amongst themselves, occasionally asking Kouda questions and watching his response. Mineta had been taped to a chair. Sero and Katsuki shared the couch closest to Izuku’s side, the two chatting as Katsuki’s hand intertwined with Izuku’s. 

The class passed the morning in quiet companionship, groups eventually breaking off to attend to training, homework, or other miscellaneous activities. Katsuki stood up to take Izuku’s mug, but was stopped by Ochaco. 

“I’ve got it, Blasty,” she smiled gently, “Take my seat, though, would you?” Katsuki nodded at her and switched places with the brunette as she walked away. He leaned against the firm edge of the couch and slung his arm gently onto a blanket-covered shoulder. Izuku turned to him with a small smile. Mina grinned and removed her arm from around Izuku’s shoulders as he shifted and leaned into Katsuki’s side. The blonde blinked before relaxing. His hand glowed with heat as Katsuki activated his quirk and trailed his hand against Izuku’s spine. The green-haired boy shivered in delight and leaned more heavily on Katsuki’s shoulder. Mina gave him a thumbs-up. 

Soon enough, Izuku fell asleep at the warm hands of the blonde. There were more than a few coos from the occupants of the room - the loudest being Kirishima - and Katsuki smiled gently as his now cool hand came up and pet at dark green curls. 

“Should we wake him up?” Katsuki shot an angry look at Todoroki for his question. He held up a hand. “He might be more comfortable if he’s in his room.” Katsuki deflated. He thought for a minute.

“Nah. Let him sleep. Chemo really wipes him out. I’ll take him up.” Todoroki nodded. Katsuki stood, leaning back to pop his spine. Sero and Kirishima winced at the noise. Mina snorted. Katsuki rolled his eyes at their reaction and turned back to the couch. Izuku’s head had fallen to the side, cushioned on the now vacated arm of the couch. Katsuki’s expression melted into a fond smile. He bent down and gathered the green-haired boy into his arms. Izuku’s head flopped against Katsuki’s chest. His breaths came in soft puffs, even and gentle. Katsuki gave a nod to the room and strode towards the elevators. He pressed the button with his foot and the elevator ascended. Once the doors open, Katsuki stepped into the hallway and walked softly to the unlocked door. He shifted Izuku’s body in his arms and opened the door before closing it behind him and placing Izuku on the unmade bed.

The green-haired boy curled into the soft fabric, curls splayed against the faded blue of the pillow. Katsuki smiled softly and reached over, pulling the blankets over his shoulders. Leaning down, Katsuki pressed a kiss to Izuku’s forehead before sitting down at the desk. He flicked on the desk lamp and, finding a sheet of paper and a pen, began to write.

“What?” All Might whispered.

“What are you going to do about One for All?” Nedzu repeated. “Izuku Midoriya will soon enough not be able to walk, much less fight. An aggressive treatment course such as that, especially one being given to someone with an already weakened immune system, will reap a huge toll on his body. So what is your plan for One for All?” All Might spluttered, a small stream of blood trickling down his chin. Nedzu handed him a tissue, which he accepted half-consciously. 

“I…” Yagi did not know what to say. The thought alone of his successor being so ill wrenched at his heart. He had given no thought to the mission he and Izuku were bound for. Yagi looked at Nedzu. The stoat looked back, something unnamable twinkling in his eyes. 

“Sir, you sound as if you believe Young Midoriya is going to die.” The stoat shrugged.

“That is a possibility, Toshinori.” Yagi sighed. “Yagi, I’m not saying this to be cruel, please understand. But I need your answer.” Something in Yagi’s eyes steeled, and Nedzu grinned internally.

“One for All is no longer mine to command, nor is it mine to give how I see fit. It belongs to young Izuku now. The decision of what to do lies not with me, but with him.” Nedzu let an actual smile make its way to his face.

“Correct answer.” Yagi spluttered, absolutely shocked. “I was testing you to see where your thoughts were. Had you only been thinking of One for All, I would have been concerned. But your thoughts, as they should be, are on your students and their health. You’ve shown so much improvement since you’ve begun to work here, Toshinori. It seems that your priorities are becoming more in line with what they should be, and what your abilities can allow.” Despite himself and his confusion, Yagi fought a proud blush at the compliment. 

“I do advise you to discuss this with Midoriya, as I’m sure that he will be concerned with that question, as well as what your response will be. But whatever he decides, you will support him.”

“Absolutely.” The stoat smiled.

“I’m glad to hear it. Now that business is out of the way, would you like a cup of tea? I’ve received a new mint blend, if you’re interested in trying it.” Numbly, Yagi nodded, still overwhelmed by the emotional roller coaster of their conversation. 

As the principal began preparing them both a cup of tea, Yagi pulled out his phone, opening the messaging app. He opened his messages with Izuku and smiled gently at the picture the boy had sent him. It was a picture of Class 1-A, sitting on couches together in the common room. Another message was under it, the time stamp reading thirty minutes previous.

Green Bean: shitty nerd's got them all hanging out together and he's half-asleep

Must've been young Bakugo who sent the text,  Yagi thought. He zoomed in on the picture a bit and smiled at the image of Izuku. His face was half-hidden in a blush colored blanket, his scarred hands wrapped around a blue mug. 

"Anything interesting, Toshinori?" Yagi looked up at Nedzu. He began to apologize, only to be cut off by the stoat's laugh. "It's alright, Toshinori. Was it a message?" Yagi nodded.

"Young Bakugo sent a picture using young Midoriya's phone. It's of the class." 

"Oh, can I see?" Yagi held the phone out to the principal. The stoat looked at the image with interest.

"It's always lovely to see such camaraderie within a class. It translates well into their work as heroes, and helps their interpersonal relationships." Yagi laughed and nodded. Nedzu turned away for a moment and Yagi's smile fell to a small frown. He typed in his message and hit send, before laying his phone down on the table face down.

I Am Here: we need to talk 

Chapter Text

Monday rolled around without much fanfare. The class had spent the majority of the weekend together, silently reassuring themselves of each other’s safety. Izuku had spent most of the weekend asleep with his head in someone’s lap; every time he woke up, a new hand was carding through his hair. As embarrassed as he was at all of the attention, he couldn’t fight the flustered happiness that he felt each time it happened. And it seemed that their need for closeness hadn’t ended with the closure of the weekend. 

During lunch, Izuku found himself in the middle of a twenty person pileup. Uraraka and Sato had pulled a few tables together so that the entire class sat as one group. Mineta was, oddly enough, on his best behavior. Izuku was squished between Katsuki and Todoroki. 

Somehow, despite Izuku being nowhere near the walkway, Monoma’s elbow still found a way to bump into his cranium. A scarred hand rubbed against the back of his tender head. The entire table had gone absolutely silent. Nineteen pairs of eyes locked onto Monoma’s shaking shoulders, his laughter turning into consternation. 

“Oh, is the mighty Class 1-A grumpy because I bumped into their pet?” Monoma’s voice was strained as he spoke. Katsuki snarled at him. A faint steam wafted off of Todoroki. Uraraka cracked her knuckles with a dangerous smile on her face. Even Mineta looked angered at the situation. 

Izuku finally turned around. His eyes locked on Monoma’s. In the lights of the cafeteria, Izuku’s face looked pale and bloodless, the only source of color being a crimson trail leaking from his nose and trickling down his chin. Monoma’s eyes widened, his hands coming up halfway between their two bodies. They began to shake. Had he hit the other boy hard enough to cause a nosebleed? Izuku’s eyes blinked, his brow furrowed in confusion. Monoma moved to speak - not wanting to apologize but needing to know what was going on. Just then a large hand came up and smacked him squarely on the head. Kendo’s strained smile deflated the bristling class. 

“Sorry about that, he’s feeling particularly vindictive today. I think he might’ve failed a test or something.” Just then, her eyes fell onto Izuku. She gasped. “Oh, Midoriya! Are you alright? Did Monoma hit your nose?” She dropped the blonde’s body unceremoniously onto the floor and reached into her pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. “Here, hold this to your nose to stop the bleeding.” Izuku blinked, bringing a hand up to his nose. He looked down at his bloody fingers. Green eyes looked back up as he smiled sheepishly. Katsuki made a small noise of pain next to him.

“Sorry about that, Kendo, thanks. And no, Monoma didn’t hit my nose. Sometimes it...just does that.” Kendo decided to ignore his less-than-stellar lie and nodded. She placed the handkerchief in his hand, blinking when it almost immediately disappeared. The blonde sitting next to Izuku had snatched it and was currently pressing it to Izuku’s nose. The green-haired boy squeaked but otherwise let it happen. Kendo had to fight a smile at the sight.

“Well, I’ll leave you be then. Sorry again about Monoma.” Izuku waved at her and said goodbye, his voice sounding slightly congested due to the pressure on his nose. Kendo dragged Monoma behind her, shaking her head as she left. 

Katsuki’s hand came up under Izuku’s chin and tilted it back softly. Crimson eyes were clouded, the strong brow furrowed. Izuku’s hand wrapped around the blonde’s wrist to get his attention.

“Kacchan, I can do this. Finish your lunch.” The blonde glared. Izuku stared right back. Katsuki huffed but relented, releasing his hold on the handkerchief only after Izuku’s hand had covered his own. He turned back to the table, only to see shocked and concerned faces facing his own. Yaoyorozu spoke up.

“Is this a normal side effect, or should we be worried, Midoriya?” Izuku shrugged, looking down for a moment.

“It’s a normal side effect.” Izuku left out the fact that for him, nosebleeds weren’t common until later in the treatment cycle. He didn’t want to unnecessarily worry his friends, not when they were so unsure about his condition and how to act around him. Yaoyorozu nodded, her shoulders loosening at the reassurance. Around the table, the class nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. Only Katsuki was unmoved, but chose not to break the spell. Instead, he turned his head towards Izuku’s and held his gaze. Izuku smiled at him, trying to reassure the blonde. Katsuki only huffed softly and turned back to his food. 

The rest of the table followed Katsuki’s example, digging into the meals that had been neglected since Monoma’s arrival. Izuku was the only one that didn’t join them, having lost his appetite. 

He pushed his chair away from the table, luckily only catching the attention of Katsuki, Todoroki, and Yaoyorozu, who all looked at him in concern. Izuku pointed to the blood on his chin in answer with a small smile on his face. Todoroki and Yaoyorozu nodded, turning back to their food. Katsuki held his gaze again, a question clear in his eyes. 

Do you want me to go with you? Izuku shook his head and squeezed Katsuki’s shoulder before weaving his way through tables and exiting the cafeteria, his head ducked down. One hand still held the now-bloody handkerchief to his still bleeding nose as he walked down the hallway. Izuku pushed open the bathroom door with a shoulder and trudged in, leaning against the sink. He sank down to rest his elbows on the linoleum counter when a voice had Izuku whipping around. 

“Are you alright, Midoriya?” Shinso leaned against one of the stalls, his head tilted in question. Feeling a bit too exhausted to speak, Izuku simply nodded. His head rested against the counter for a moment, the cool feeling soothing his sudden headache. “You get in a fight or something? Is that why you have a bloody nose?” Izuku couldn’t muster up the energy to even nod this time. The hand holding the handkerchief to his nose fell slack and he felt his shaking knees buckle against the force of gravity. For a moment, he tried to cling to the counter, but the slick counter caused his grip to fail. Izuku fell to the floor, his elbows just bracing himself so that his head didn’t hit the floor. Shinso uttered a concerned “Midoriya!?” as Izuku felt his vision fading. Izuku clenched his eyes shut and panted, willing his heart to calm down, at least enough to ask Shinso to get Katsuki. 

A large and slim hand placed itself on the back of his neck, thumb tracing small circles into the flesh. Its twin came and rested under his ribs before pulling up, helping Izuku into a sitting position. The hand supporting his neck came down to press two fingers into the side of his neck. Izuku blinked, vision hazy. The scene in front of him swam into hazy focus.

Violet eyes stared at him, brow furrowed in an expression that Izuku was too tired to understand. The hand at his neck retracted and pushed lavender hair back away from a pale forehead. Izuku felt his gaze drifting before that slender hand was in front of his face once more, fingers snapping to get his attention. Izuku blinked to allow the image to come back into focus. 

“I need you to tell me what’s going on, Midoriya.” Shinso’s voice was sharp, and Izuku flinched instinctively. The sudden drop in blood pressure had left him reeling and feeling out of it, so he fell back into old habits. Shinso’s hands retracted, coming to hover awkwardly in the area between the two. “Sorry.”

“ ‘ts fine.” Izuku winced a little at hearing his own voice slur those words. “Can you...can you get Ka-kacchan?” Izuku shivered. The cool air of the bathroom that had felt so soothing just a minute ago was now blistering cold. Shinso leaned back.

“That’s Bakugo, right?” Izuku nodded. He felt a gentle weight on his shoulders and tilted his head, only to realize that Shinso had given him his uniform jacket. A scarred hand reached out to Shinso.

“W-wait. I don’t...I don’t w-want to get b-blood on it.” Izuku’s hand flopped down, knuckles hitting the bathroom tile as his energy gave out. Shinso shook his head, his eyes softening.

“Don’t worry about it, Midoriya. I’ll be back. I’m just getting Bakugou. It’ll keep you warm.” Izuku’s head tilted sideways and back, bumping gently against the wall that had materialized behind him. Belatedly, he realized that Shinso had propped him up against the wall. The bathroom door clicked closed gently and green eyes fell shut. 

Katsuki grumbled to himself as the class continued to eat. As much as he desperately wanted to follow Izuku, he held back. He knew how important it was to Izuku that he still had autonomy and privacy, as that would most likely become scarce in the coming months. Still, Izuku had looked pale as he left, and the handkerchief kept getting redder and redder with no sign of stopping. Kaminari, who had been sitting on Katuski’s other side, bumped the blonde on the shoulder. Katsuki glared. 

“Aww, does Kacchan miss Midoriya already?” Katsuki growled in response. Kaminari, at least, had the foresight to not yell his question to the table. Golden eyes crinkled as Kaminari smiled at him. “He’ll be fine, bro. And if he isn’t, he has his phone. Midoriya’ll text you if he needs help.” Katsuki huffed and crossed his arms, but deflated all the same. He knew that his worry was a bit ostentatious for the occasion, but the gnawing tension in his gut told him that something was going on and that Izuku needed him. 

The cafeteria buzzed with noise, but Katsuki still heard running footsteps coming towards their group. He turned around. Shinso was running straight towards them, his eyes locked on Katsuki. The normally stoic and bored face was twisted with worry and, to Katsuki’s mounting horror, two of the fingertips of his right hand were red. Katsuki stood up, Kaminari jumping at the abrupt rising. Their table went silent, all eyes locking on Katsuki. Shinso reached their group.

The lavender-haired boy grabbed his upper arm and pulled him towards the exit. Normally, Katsuki would make a fuss at the manhandling, but the blonde was silent. He hoped for the opposite, but had a sinking feeling that the blood on Shinso’s hand belonged to Izuku. Violet eyes glanced at him as they exited the cafeteria, their quick pace never slowing.

“What happened, Mind Fuck?” Katsuki’s voice was low. Shinso only said one word, but it sent shards of ice shooting through his veins.

“Midoriya.” 

Katsuki urged himself to go faster. Shinso kept pace with him, slowing down only as they reached the door to the bathroom. Katsuki slammed the door open, his fear and adrenaline causing him to be more rough with the door than he needed to. Shinso followed after him, not speaking. Crimson eyes widened as he took in the scene in front of him.

Izuku sat slumped on the floor, his head sagging on his shoulders. Bloodied hands lay limp on his lap. The handkerchief that Katsuki had held against his nose sat abandoned on the bathroom floor, so soaked in red that it appeared almost black. Izuku sat unmoving, tiny tremors coursing up his body. Blood dripped freely from his nose. His mouth and chin were covered in the liquid, rubies glinting in the fluorescent light as they fell. 

Katsuki fell to his knees in front of the still form in front of him. His hand came up, trembling, to press gently against Izuku’s carotid artery. The green-haired boy’s pulse was faint and pounding, rabbit-quick against the pads of his fingertips. Katsuki’s hand trailed up Izuku’s neck, so fragile and pale against his palm, and cupped the other boy’s jaw. Green-black lashes fluttered at the touch, slits of emerald appearing. 

“Hey, baby,” Katsuki whispered, his other hand coming up to hold the other side of Izuku’s face. Izuku blinked, his eyelids only reaching half-mast. 

“K-kacchan?” Katsuki hummed a gentle agreement. A gnarled hand rose, shaking, and tangled weakly into the fabric of his school uniform. 

“Yeah, honey. Kacchan’s here. You’re gonna be okay.” Izuku nodded, his eyes slipping shut once again. Katsuki tapped his cheek to wake him up. “No, Zuku. Can’t do that. Gotta stay awake for me, sweetheart.” Izuku made a noise of protest. Katsuki huffed a laugh. The blonde swept Izuku up into his arms and strode out of the bathroom, Shinso following a few steps behind. 

“I’m taking him to Granny, Mind Fuck.” Katsuki’s voice was more gentle than Shinso had ever heard it be. “Thanks. I’ve got him from here.”  Shinso nodded and, after a moment of hesitation, turned on his heel and left for his own class. 

The bell for classes rang just as Katsuki reached the infirmary doors. He nudged the door open with his foot and, not seeing Recovery Girl anywhere, gently deposited Izuku onto one of the hospital beds. He snapped his fingers in front of Izuku’s face to get his attention. Izuku, who had been slowly drifting off, snapped back into focus. The blonde sank down on the edge of the bed, his hand tangling in Izuku’s own. 

The distinct sound of a cane tapping against the floor entered the room and Katsuki turned his head. Recovery Girl, seeing Katsuki’s form, sighed and walked over to the bed. 

“What brings you into my office today, Mr. Bakugo?” 

“Zuku had a nosebleed. It wouldn’t stop and he almost passed out. Still bleeding.” Recovery Girl strode forward in earnest. 

“Sit him up, Mr. Bakugo,” she snapped. Chiyo never liked taking such a demanding tone with the students, but Izuku was at risk for choking on his own blood, so she did so. Katsuki followed her orders immediately, not one hint of reluctance nor any sarcastic comments. Izuku swayed at the sudden change in position, his face draining of color. Chiyo held Izuku’s head in her hands, placing a gentle kiss on his nose. Immediately, the green-haired boy’s nose ceased bleeding. Izuku, however, slumped forward, completely unconscious. Katsuki’s hands darted between her and Izuku and held the smaller boy’s shoulders up. 

“I’ve stopped the bleed, but judging by his face, he’ll need a transfusion.” Katsuki nodded and pulled the green head towards him so that the smaller boy rested against his chest. Recovery Girl departed, returning shortly after with a bag of blood, an IV bag filled with clear liquid, and tubing. She hung the two bags on the nearby IV stand and connected their tails to the IV pump. She then inserted the IV into Izuku’s arm and started the machine. It gently whirred to life and soon a tiny trail of red flowed from the hanging bag into Izuku’s arm. 

Katsuki held Izuku’s neck as he laid the smaller boy down on the bed. Green curls splayed on the pillow as Izuku moved his head to the side in sleep. Katsuki looked up at Recovery Girl.

“Why the hell was he bleeding like that?” Recovery Girl pulled a stool over and sat down so that she was level with Katsuki’s eyes.

“Mr. Bakugou, there’s no need to worry. Nosebleeds are a common side effect of treatment, as is heavy bleeding. I had hoped that it would be a longer while before we had to worry about that side effect, but it’s not an incredibly major concern unless the bleeding becomes out of control.” Katsuki huffed.

“Then why the hell did he pass out?” 

“Language,” Recovery Girl tutted. She looked down at Izuku. “I assume that the sudden loss of a good amount of fluid may have caused a syncope reaction. Dehydration is another side effect of chemotherapy. Those factors combined make for quite a perfect storm. But you did the right thing, Bakugou. This way, we can control the bleed and replace his fluids.” Katsuki nodded, his fear abating somewhat. 

“So, Zuku’s gonna bleed like that when he gets cut?” Recovery Girl nodded. Katsuki groaned, holding his head in his hands. “He’s the clumsiest motherfucker on the planet. Better stock up on blood, I guess.” For once, Chiyo didn’t admonish Katsuki for his vocabulary. Instead, she patted his shoulder in comfort. 

“We’ll keep a good eye on him, Bakugou. And am I right in assuming that I can trust you to do the same?” Katsuki nodded, for once not snapping back about the questioning of his ability. “Good. Well, Midoriya will need some time until he’s ready to return to class. I can contact Mr. Aizawa once he wakes up so that you can come and meet him, perhaps after class. I’ll write a note for you, excusing your late arrival to class.” Katsuki’s head snapped up to her, his red eyes steely.

“I’m staying with him.” Recovery Girl sighed in exasperation. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Bakugou. But I can’t excuse you from class every time Mr. Midoriya is here. Disregarding the fact that you don’t have a valid medical reason to stay, you can’t miss this much class time without repercussions on your grades or training ability.” Katsuki began to protest, but Chiyo shooed him out. “As I said, you will be informed the moment that he wakes up. Until then, go to class and concentrate. Do you think Mr. Midoriya would want you to miss this much class on his behalf?” 

Katsuki’s angry and defensive posture deflated at her words. Of course Izuku would be upset if he found out that Katsuki was skipping class because of him. He’d probably see it as some form of pity or feel responsible for the choice that Katsuki made of his own free will. As much as his heart was screaming for him to go back into the infirmary and sit vigil by the smaller boy’s side, ready to protect him, Katsuki knew that it would only upset Izuku once he had awoken. 

With a curt nod, Katsuki turned and walked away from the infirmary. Chiyo sighed once more and closed the infirmary door before walking over to her unconscious patient. 

“Now what am I going to do with you, Mr. Midoriya?”

Chapter Text

Needless to say, Izuku was incredibly embarrassed once he had woken up. After word-vomiting copious apologies to Recovery Girl, he slipped out of the Infirmary. It was quite late in the day, late enough that Izuku knew that he had missed the practical part of his class. He felt terrible, and for more reasons than his recent blood loss. 

Both Katsuki and Shinso had seen him during his ‘episode’. Not only did he feel incredibly embarrassed at having two people lay witness to that, he also felt guilt at having to put Shinso through that ordeal. Not to mention Katsuki. Izuku groaned as he began imagining the ways that the blonde could lord this over him. He instantaneously felt guilt. Although Katsuki could be unrelenting and overbearing sometimes, surely the other boy wouldn’t be petty enough to hold this incident over his head. Then again, it seemed to Izuku just in character enough for his maybe-boyfriend for it to be a concern. 

Izuku slouched against the hallway wall, gently thumping his head against the drywall. Thoughts flashed through his mind, each more deprecating than the last. He was shaken out of his reverie by the feeling of a large hand on his upper arm. His head snapped backwards, body turning with the force of his movement. 

All Might gazed down at him, his face drawn but still smiling. Tears beaded at the corner of viridian eyes. Despite the comfort that Toshinori’s presence usually brought him, Izuku felt fear coil at the base of his stomach. He should have known, should have predicted this conversation. All Might was going to ask him to give One for All back, and he would be quirkless, useless, worthless again. The green-haired boy felt his airway slowly close as the man bent down to speak, too overcome with what was to come to be able to reply. 

“Hello, my boy.” Toshinori’s voice was soft and gentle. It quavered on the last word, as if his mentor was fighting off tears. “Are you free?” Izuku nodded. Yagi smiled at him again as his hand left Izuku’s shoulder. He beckoned for the green-haired boy to follow him. Izuku did, his heart sinking with each step he took. 

They walked in silence until they had reached Toshinori’s office. The tall man gestured for Izuku to enter the room in front of him. He turned around just as the blonde had shut the door. Their eyes locked, and Izuku was surprised to see tears forming in Yagi’s eyes. The hero sniffed and walked forward. Yagi pulled the other into his arm, and he felt wetness begin to drip into his hair. Izuku’s body was shaking with the force of his own sobs. His own hands came up, shaking, to embrace his mentor. Yagi curled down around him, shoulders hitching. 

“Oh, my boy. I’m so sorry.” Yagi’s voice was soft and gentle against his ear. The dam broke in his eyes as Iuzku, overwhelmed, began to cry. Yagi’s voice never lost its softness as he whispered into Izuku’s ear, nonsensical words and reassurances. Izuku sagged against his chest, his fingers twisted in the other’s suit jacket. Minutes passed and eventually Izuku felt his tears slow as he looked up at Yagi. The man smiled down at him, a small and fragile expression. Izuku found himself mirroring the other’s expression. 

Yagi maneuvered their bodies so that one of his arms laid on Izuku’s shoulders, guiding him over to the small couch. He sat down, Yagi stepping away.

“Would you like some tea, kid?” Izuku wiped at an errant tear and nodded. Yagi mimicked the gesture and turned to the water dispenser on the table. He quickly set about preparing tea. 

As Izuku waited, he felt a ball of dread slowly make itself known once more. Despite their tender moment, Izuku was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He wrung his hands, pulling at stiff joints and rubbing at raised scars. A large hand appeared in his vision, holding a mug. The green-haired boy accepted it with a whispered word of thanks. Yagi sank down next to him. Izuku’s hand trembled at the change as his worst fears were, in his mind, confirmed. Yagi and he had always sat across the table. That could only mean that the former pro-hero needed to say something incredibly emotional and heart-wrenching. The man sitting next to him hesitated. In that moment, Izuku decided to take the lead.

“You want One for All back, don’t you?” Izuku’s voice shook as he spoke. Yagi’s head whipped up to meet his own, expression one of surprise. His brows wrinkled as he blanched. Izuku, not wanting to delay the inevitable, kept speaking. “I mean I can’t be your successor if I can’t even fight. I understand. I’m sorry to have disappointed you bu-” Yagi cut him off.

“Midoriya! That’s not at all what I wanted to ask you.” Yagi’s voice was low, but laced with emotion. Izuku was stupefied. “Kid, I called you in here to ask you what YOU wanted to do. It’s not my quirk anymore. It’s yours. I don’t get to say whether or not you get to keep it. The only one who can do that is you. I figured that this would be a concern of yours, so I thought that I’d talk to you about it sooner rather than later. Probably should have done this as soon as I heard.” 

“...oh.” Yagi brought him back into the circle of his arms. 

“Kid, you could never disappoint me. Especially over something you had absolutely no control over. I’ve had the pleasure of being your mentor for these past months and every day that I spend as someone you can trust is a gift. But never say that you’re a disappointment to me. Especially when nothing could be further from the truth.” Unbidden, Izuku felt tears return to his eyes. “I’m so sorry that you have to go through this, my boy. Sometimes, I regret burdening you with this. I don’t regret making you my successor in any capacity. But to give you the burden of my fight, my enemy to worry about when you’re sick as it is is selfish of me. I hope you can forgive me, Izuku.” 

“There’s nothing to forgive, All Might.” Izuku’s words were wet and wobbly. “You’ve given me the opportunity to become a hero, even if it was for a little while.” 

“You will always be a hero, my boy. No matter what.” The two sat in each other’s company for a while longer, each deciding to not mention the emotional interaction ever again. Yagi’s face turned solemn. 

“We do have to discuss One for All, though. If, heaven forbid, something were to happen to you…” Izuku finished his thought.

“We need a failsafe. I’d been thinking of adding one to my costume for a while now. I mean, the only people who would know would be you and Kacchan, but that way One for All could survive even if I don’t.” Something had been weighing on Izuku’s mind ever since he had conceived the idea. Would One for All take if he was dead before the transfer? He knew that the transfer had to be willing and purposeful, but would a hair hold it for a long enough period of time as a failsafe? Would he still have access to his powers if he began the transfer process? What were the implications of keeping a potentially power-imbued piece of himself with him at all times? Yagi’s laugh startled him out of his reverie. 

“Not sure about some of those questions, kid. But I do know that you still have full access to One for All until the other person physically takes the quirk. After that, you’ll have the embers.” Izuku flushed as he realized that he had been mumbling. 

“I suppose that if it was something like hair, it’d keep indefinitely. Since hair cells are already dead. Something like blood would have to be refreshed pretty regularly, and I wouldn’t want to give someone my blood. Hair would probably be better, but I’d need to store it soon, before my hair falls out.” Yagi went white at his words, but said nothing. Izuku continued to mumble for a few minutes until he had a semi-fleshed out plan in case of his early passing. He looked over to Yagi once more.

“All Might, do you have someone in mind that I should give One for All to?” Yagi shook his head.

“Like I said, kid. It’s your quirk. I can’t tell you who to give it to or force you to do so. The only thing I can do is give advice. Is there anyone you can think of that you’d trust to give it to?” Immediately Izuku replied.

“Kacchan. Definitely Kacchan.” Yagi nodded.

“He’s not the most conventional of choices, but I agree with you wholeheartedly, my boy. I know that young Bakugou would be devoted to ending All for One.” Izuku nodded, relieved. He had been worried that Yagi would ridicule his choice, or refuse. But having the man’s support in both his decision and his abilities assuaged some of his fear. “I do advise you, though. Talk to young Bakugou about it. He’s the stubborn type.” Izuku laughed.

“Alright. I’ll tell him tonight.” Yagi grinned at him and brought him in for another embrace. Izuku returned the gesture, pressing his head against the beat of the man’s heart. Its steady cadence was soothing and gentle. 

“Alright, my boy. You’d best get back to the dorms. Remember, you can always text me if you need anything.” He laid a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “I am so proud of you, my boy.” Izuku nodded at him. The two departed from the room, Izuku waving back to his mentor as he exited the building. 

The walk from the school building to the dorms was relatively short, but felt longer. Izuku was stuck in his mind, mentally rehearsing the speech that he would give Katsuki once the two could speak freely. He was greeted at the door by a frantic Aoyama. 

“Mon petit lapin! Where have you been?” The blonde’s hand flew up to Izuku’s face, squishing his cheeks. “You never returned to class after le dejeuner. I was sick with worry.” Izuku felt guilt pool in his stomach.

“I’m sorry, Aoyama. I never meant to worry. I just had a nosebleed during lunch and went to Recovery Girl. She ended up keeping me there for a while.” He purposely left out the part where he fainted in the bathroom. It wouldn’t do to stress the blonde out more than he already was. With a startled ‘Mon dieu’, Aoyama drew Izuku into his arms, seeming intent on squeezing his vital organs out. He patted the other’s back in reassurance, apologizing again. 

Aoyama drew back with a hand to his forehead. He flipped his hair back and held out a hand for Izuku to take. 

“As long as you are okay, mon amour.” Izuku smiled at the words and accepted Aoyama’s hand. He led the other through the common room, where Kirishima waved at him, and into the kitchen. As they entered, Aoyama spoke quietly to him. 

“Ah, please do try to calm down le pain grille brulee. He has been quite angry ever since the lunch hour.” Without fanfare, Aoyama pushed a very confused Izuku into the kitchen. 

Izuku found himself face to face with the back of a very irate Katsuki. The blonde was slamming pots down onto the stove and grumbling to himself, checking his phone every so often. 

“Hi Kacchan.” Katsuki’s head snapped around, his furious expression locking onto Izuku. The blonde grumbled under his breath but said nothing, instead turning around and slamming a pan onto the stove with much more force than was necessary. Izuku stepped cautiously into the kitchen, trying not to make any sudden movements. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed a terrified-looking Kirishima and Kaminari peeking out of the doorway so that only their eyes were in view. Izuku gestured between the two and Katsuki’s back. They shook their heads. Kaminari reached a hand out and made a shooing motion towards him. Izuku sighed and closed the distance between them. 

“Kacchan?” Izuku reached a hand out as he spoke, placing it on the other’s bicep. Katsuki’s arm was tense under his fingers. “Is everything okay?” Katsuki had his hands balled into fists on the counter he was leaning on, his head forwards. He looked sideways at Izuku with an expression of annoyance, lingering fear, and - Izuku realized, a contented fondness growing in his heart - disappointment. The green-haired boy felt a small smile grace his face, although he quickly schooled his expression into a more neutral one.

“That fucking old bat was supposed to call me once you woke up.” Katsuki’s face was still angry, but his brows were pinched in a way that told Izuku that his fury was hiding fear. 

“I’m sure she just forgot, Kacchan. She released me a little while ago. All Might pulled me aside after to chat.” Katsuki growled but turned to face the stove all the same. 

“Sit your ass down. I’m making these extras dinner and -” Katsuki whipped around again, pointing at Izuku with a raised spatula, “I expect you to fucking eat it. Haven’t had shit this entire weekend. No wonder you fucking keeled over today.” Katsuki resumed cooking, his movements losing some of their fire. Izuku pulled a chair out from where it stood under the small table and perched on it, one leg coming up and folding into his chest. He laid his head on his knee and watched Katsuki cook.

Izuku always loved watching Katsuki in the kitchen. Every movement that the blonde made was calm and assured. He was precise in all of his measurements and cuttings, but never had to slow to check. He somehow always knew exactly how much of one ingredient or spice to add, even without following a recipe or even looking too closely at what he was handling. Had he been a lesser person, Izuku would have thought that Katsuki was born to be a chef. He knew, though, that Katsuki was only this good from countless hours practicing. The blonde only accepted the best, both from himself or from others. 

Katsuki slammed a lid down onto the pot in front of him and walked over, his brows still drawn into an expression that Izuku realized was Katsuki’s version of pouting. He thought that it was incredibly endearing. The blonde leaned against the wood of the table, one hand splayed on the surface as he leaned in closer to Izuku. He shifted so that his chin rested on his forearms, eyes meeting Katsuki’s. The crimson eyes seemed to have lost their angered scrunch, the fire behind them simmering down into a gentler flicker. One large and calloused hand brushed gently against the side of his face.

“You okay?” Katsuki’s voice was gentle, just as his hand had been. Izuku gave him a small smile, his eyes falling closed at the gesture. 

“Yeah. Just a bit tired.” The day had finally caught up to him. All at once, Izuku’s bones felt as if they were filled with sludge and debris. He sank down slightly, leaning against the tabletop. He blinked sleepily, more to remind himself of the need to stay awake than any need to rehydrate the membranes of his eyes. Katsuki let out a soft puff of air. 

The blonde’s hand raked through his curls once before pulling away. The presence at Izuku’s side disappeared.The green-haired boy closed his eyes again and adjusted his posture so that he was leaning against the countertop, his arms acting as a pillow for his head. The sounds of Katsuki cooking, noticeably softer and gentler than before, lulled Izuku into a stupor. Izuku found himself in that unusual liminal space between sleeping and wakefulness where the world seems not quite real and time no longer exists. Izuku didn’t remember all that well what happened next. He must have dozed off in the time that it took for Katsuki to finish cooking and for the food to be distributed. 

A hand shaking his shoulder gently brought Izuku back to the present. Katsuki had pulled another of the chairs over so that he and the blonde were sitting at the table together, their knees touching. Izuku rubbed one eye as he let out a small half-yawn, more of a deep held breath than a signal of exhaustion. Half-lidded eyes met Katsuki’s, which were crinkled around the corners with a soft sort of fondness. The blonde tilted his head towards the table, prompting Izuku to follow his gaze. 

“C’mon, Zuku. Time to eat.” Izuku smiled at him as the blonde pressed a pair of chopsticks into his hand. Fumbling a bit, the two began to eat. 

As with anything the blonde made, the food was amazing. The dish was seasoned and spiced well, but not overpoweringly so. Izuku couldn’t help but make a small pleased noise as he ate the first bite. He glanced quickly towards Katsuki.

Although the blonde seemed completely focused on his meal, Izuku could see the pleased glint in his eye and the satisfied expression he made between bites. The green-haired boy shook his head with a small smile. 

The pair ate in silence, a muted ruckus of their classmates filtering through the wall. As they finished their meal, Katsuki stood and began to reach for Izuku’s plate. The green-haired boy shot up and - in a move almost too fast for the blonde to process - ducked under Katsuki’s arm, stole the plate from his hand, and darted to the sink. The blonde made an offended noise but Izuku, unrepentant, simply stuck out his tongue and turned to the sink. He made quick work of washing the dishes, which were then stolen by a petulant Katsuki to be put away. 

Izuku laughed as Katsuki smirked at him, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed in a self-satisfied pose. Katsuki seemed so relaxed and carefree, almost as if the past few weeks hadn’t happened and they were simply hanging out, competing with each other on who could finish chores the fastest. Izuku felt a twinge of pain in his chest at the thought of losing this. Even now, he felt how everything and everyone around him was changing. He had fallen asleep as Katsuki had cooked and the blonde hadn’t even so much as said something snarky. They had eaten away from the rest of the class because of how noisy and rambunctious they could be. A thud against the wall followed by raucous laughter and a few unintelligible shouts echoed against the wall, almost as if to illustrate his point. And his quirk…

Izuku felt as if he had been doused in ice water suddenly. The weight of what he had to do, what he had to ask of Katsuki hit him. His hand shook almost imperceptibly. The legacy of One for All, the burden he would no doubt become, the thought that even if he were to survive,  he would be quirkless once more. 

Something must’ve shown on his face, because Katsuki appeared at his side, his expression drawn in concern. It was such a genuine, gentle expression, and one so far removed from what Katsuki would do if Izuku were well, that Izuku felt a fleeting flicker of anger before it was doused in a wave of hopelessness. Katsuki’s hands were on his arms now, the blonde leaning forward so that their eyes were on the same level. The blonde’s mouth moved wordlessly, Izuku unable to decipher what the other was saying over the rushing noise filling his ears. One large hand came up to rest on his cheek, the thumb brushing against the skin under his eye. Izuku sniffed as he realized that he had begun crying. He brought a hand up to wipe clumsily at his face, the fabric of his sleeve dragging against the fluid. 

Katsuki brought Izuku to his chest, warm arms pressing him to the thrumming heartbeat. Gnarled fingers clutched to the fabric, the fabric wrinkling at the pressure. Izuku felt Katsuki’s chest rumble against his own, his soundless words resonating in his bones. Warm lips pressed to the crown of his head as the world faded, becoming muted and far away.

Izuku watched as if from a distance as Katsuki led him away from the kitchen and to the dorm elevators, miraculously avoiding their other classmates. From far away, the tinny sound of the elevator’s gentle chime came to him as the doors closed. 

Katsuki kept his arm wound around Izuku’s waist, the thumb brushing gently against the fabric of his hip. That warm arm guided him through the opening elevator doors and down the hallway to what Izuku realized was his own room. The door opened and Izuku wondered how Katsuki had gotten his key even as the blonde pushed against his shoulders to guide him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Katsuki knelt before him, sliding between Izuku’s legs to bring the boy once more into his arms. The blonde head pressed against his chest and warmth began to seep into the hollows of Izuku’s abdomen once filled by viable organs. Katsuki kept speaking, the vibration of his chest against Izuku slowly bringing the green-haired boy back to reality. Izku curled around Katsuki, pressing his face into the crook of the blonde’s neck. Slowly, Izuku began to hear Katsuki’s words through the filter of his own racing pulse. 

“Just breathe, Zuku. Everything’ll be okay. Nothing's going to hurt you. Don’t need to focus on anything else right now. Just take a breath for me, sweetheart. That’s it.” Izuku’s breath hitched at his words.

Katsuki, fiery, violent, volatile, determined, gentle, amazing Katsuki, whispered words of love and protection into his ears as he, undeserving and unreliable Izuku, cried noisily into his shoulder. He didn’t deserve this kindness, could never hope to see himself worthy of Katsuki’s gentleness. He knew that no matter what he did or said, he’d end up hurting Katsuki in the end. Izuku was nothing more than the promise of ruin, the inevitable hand of death. Still, he allowed himself to be selfish and cling to the boy in front of him. 

“I’m sorry, Kacchan,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Chapter Text

Katsuki stilled, before pulling back slightly. Not enough to signal that he needed space, but enough that he could look Izuku in the eye. One large and calloused hand came up to rest on his cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing a small design between the other’s freckles. Izuku sniffed. 

“Why are you apologizing, baby? You didn’t do anything.” Izuku tried to open his mouth to reply, to urge Katsuki to leave before he became a burden, before he had to leave Katsuki with the weight of his own failures. Nothing came out, excepting a small choked whine. Izuku’s shoulders heaved as he tried to force words out, half-realizing that he could no longer breathe quite right. The green-haired boy clutched at his chest as he choked on his words, tears of frustration intermingling with the others dripping like sludge down his cheeks. The world in front of him was blurring and Izuku couldn’t tell if it was from a lack of oxygen or from his own sobs.

A burning heat circled around his wrist and dragged his hand forward so that it pressed against something soft and incredibly warm. Another slid to the back of his neck and pressed forwards, so that Izuku’s forehead met that same warm barrier. Words, whispered in a husky and rich baritone, fell gently into his ear. They never faltered, even when Izuku couldn’t comprehend their meaning and thus didn’t respond. The heat on the back of his neck scratched gently at the base of his skull, the slow and steady ministrations grounding the green-haired boy in the present moment. Slowly, the nonsensical words in his ear began to take a sensible shape. 

“I’ve got you, Zuku. It’s alright. Just keep breathing. Try to match mine. Try again, it’s okay. There we go.” Izuku felt the rise and fall of Katsuki’s lungs against his hand and tried to match pace with it. Izuku’s breath stuttered in his chest, trickling sludge itching at the back of his throat. He fought against the sensation pushing it forwards and pressed his forehead into Katsuki’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. The only thing he allowed himself to think of was the slow and steady rise and fall of Katsuki’s chest, the unending thrum of the heart beating just under his fingers. 

His shoulders untensed slowly, quietly, without fanfare. The tears streaming from his eyes continued their path, but his heaving chest slowed and deepened, the shallow heaves wracking through his frame smoothing into deeper breaths. Katsuki’s voice still rang as an undulating beat in his brain. It was a grounding force, soothing and gentle and tethering him to his body. Izuku pressed his head against Katsuki’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry for that, Kacchan.” The blonde’s hand came up and cupped his cheek, a large and warm thumb brushing gently against the outer orbit of his eye socket.

“Don’t apologize. Not for that.” He paused. “Can you tell me what freaked you out so bad you had a panic attack?” 

Izuku’s hands clenched together, his fingers playing a nonsensical melody against his scarred knuckles. He looked up, half-afraid that the sight of Katsuki would set him off again. The blonde’s face was drawn into a frown, his brows crinkled in concern. The crimson of his eyes bore gently into his own gaze. Izuku steeled his nerves.

“I need to ask you to do something for me.”

“Anything, baby. You know I’d give you the fucking world if I could.” Izuku closed his eyes, feeling breath inflate his lungs.

“I…don’t know how to ask it.” 

Katsuki’s frown deepened. Despite what some may assume about Katsuki at first glance, he was quite an intelligent boy. After all, getting into UA was no easy feat even barring the physical entrance exam. The hesitation in the green haired boy’s eyes, the fear he saw there, shook Katsuki to his core. The blonde prided himself on not being afraid of anything, but the look in Izuku’s eyes nearly had him changing his tune. 

The silence stretched on as Izuku tried to organize his thoughts. Katsuki sat, patient and contemplative. What could Izuku possibly be so nervous about asking him? Izuku knew how much Katsuki treasured him, right? And based on a conversation had late in the night during the weekend, he knew Izuku wouldn’t be doing any self-sacrificing “break up with me because I’m probably going to die and I don’t want you to waste your time on me” bullshit. Katsuki had nearly killed him for that already. The only other thing that Katsuki could think was weighing on Izuku’s mind was…his quirk. The blonde’s head snapped up, startling Izuku out of his nigh imperceptible mumbling.

“Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice was small. Whether it was due to his reverie or the intensity of Katsuki’s gaze, the blonde couldn’t say. Katsuki’s next words were a growl.

“You were going to ask me to take One for All, weren’t you?” Izuku flinched at the accusatory tone, then nodded solemnly. Katsuki felt livid, a burning terror masked by rage clood through his veins. 

“No.” Katsuki spat the words out as if they burned. “I’m not taking your fucking quirk, Zuku.” 

“Kacchan, please.”

“No, asshole. It’s your fucking quirk. I already told you: I’m climbing up the ranks due to my own fucking merit. I’m not taking that damn quirk.” Katsuki froze, ice flooding through his burning veins. His next words shook as they forced their way out of his throat.

“Are you…are you giving up? Just like that?” Izuku’s eyes widened and he began to shake his head furiously. Katsuki, needing space to process without the fear of hurting the other, pushed away and began pacing. “What, you’re just gonna roll over and take this shit? What the fuck?” Katsuki’s hands shook and he felt his breathing pick up. He needed to run, to hit something. A hand on his wrist snapped him back to awareness, chest heaving. Izuku stood in front of him, the green of his eyes shining as they crinkled with concern.

“Kacchan, you need to sit down and take a breath.” 

“Why, so you can tell me how you’ve given up?” Izuku growled in frustration.

“If you’d let me finish explaining what I was trying to ask, that would be quite helpful!” Izuku’s hand came up to his shoulder and, sparking green, guided him to the floor. Katsuki snarled but Izuku simply guided his head down to touch his knees. The firm hand splayed between his shoulder blades kept Katsuki in place as Izuku’s voice fell thickly into his ear.

“Kacchan, I was asking you as a failsafe. Meaning in case something happens to me or I get too sick to be able to fight. But…you’re the only person I would trust to do this. And you know I would only ask you if there was no other choice. I’m sorry I scared you, but I promise that I haven’t given up. I’m just ensuring that if I do, All for One will still go down. Please don’t cry, Kacchan.” 

And to Katsuki’s horror, he realized that his face was wet. He sniffed, embarrassed. The blonde looked up at the boy sitting in front of him. Izuku’s eyes were shining, his face pulled into a small, unsure smile. Katsuki wiped his face.

“Wasn’t crying,” he muttered under his breath, before quickly pulling Izuku into the circle of his arms. The other went willingly. Their bodies folded into each other, limbs entangling into a messy pile that somehow became a cohesive whole. Katsuki pressed his face into the juncture of Izuku’s neck, his eyes closing as he pressed the other closer to his heart. A hand, familiar in its size and texture, gently brushed through ashen locks in a repetitive thrum. Izuku whispered into Katsuki’s ear.

“I’ll always be by your side, Kacchan.”

You better be, dammit.”

Chapter Text

Friday rolled around with little fanfare. Izuku, having been exempt from physical training exercises for the foreseeable future, had been meeting with Principal Nezu during the training time. As he was leaving Thursday evening, Nezu called to him at the door. He turned around, one hand on the knob in front of him. The chimera seemed pensive. Izuku turned fully towards him, taking a few steps forward. 

“Sir? Is everything alright?” Nezu didn’t reply right away, humming softly to himself. Eventually, he looked up at Izuku. 

“I have a question for you, Midoriya. It’s regarding a treatment suggested by Eri.” Izuku looked shocked. Nezu held a paw up. “Not to worry, Mr. Midoriya. She’s only been informed that you are sick.” Izuku nodded.

“What was her suggestion, sir?”

“Miss Eri offered to use her quirk to heal you. What are your thoughts on that?” Nezu looked meaningfully at Izuku, suggesting that the chimera wanted his analysis on this rather than a straight opinion. On the surface, it seemed like a dream come true. Eri could heal him and he wouldn’t have to worry about falling behind in school or giving Kacchan One for All. But after a moment, his heart sank as he thought the problem through further. He looked up at Nezu.

“Well, sir. At first glance, it seems like a dream, almost too good to be true.” Nezu said nothing, allowing him the room to speak. “But it may be just that: a dream. Eri’s only seven. She hasn’t had the chance to even learn to control her quirk, much less harness it that requires an insane amount of precision. Eri would have to exhibit an insane amount of control to target just the tumors and not the surrounding tissues. Even modern medicine doesn’t exhibit that much control - and if they get close, there’s usually a lot of adverse effects. At the moment, Eri simply doesn’t have the training to exhibit that much control. And there’s the possibility that Eri would underuse her quirk, leaving traces of malignant cells that multiply and become the problem. And even if Eri does erase all of the cells, it doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t be exposed to a carcinogenic trigger later on in life. I’m also more likely to do that anyway because of my previous history of cancer. 

“And since Rewind can be used as a healing quirk, it’ll be heavily regulated once the proper registration is done. That means that in order to use it to heal at all, she’ll need to attend rigorous healer training and become certified as a quirk healer before using it. If you had asked me this question when Eri was in her twenties, perhaps, I would say ‘most likely’. But Eri isn’t a registered healer, or a healer-in-training, or a hero student. She is a traumatized seven year old girl. Healing me would, no doubt, be quite traumatic for her. So to answer your question, sir, I don’t think Eri would be able to heal me right now with the amount of control she has over her quirk.” Izuku’s shoulders slouched as his words trailed off. He felt so tired. Even though he knew Nezu had asked him because of their analysis training and not out of malice, he felt a stab of resentment in his heart towards the chimera for allowing him to get his hopes up in that way. Nezu must have seen the turmoil on his face, because the chimera’s next words were delivered in a gentler voice. 

“I realize that asking you to analyze Eri’s quirk in regards to your own situation may not have been the most sympathetic thing to do. I apologize.” Izuku gave a small, awkward smile. 

“That’s alright, sir. I understood that you were focused on the analysis.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you next week, Mr. Midoriya.” Izuku gave his goodbyes and exited, taking a moment to sigh after the door had closed. 

The walk to the dorms seemed longer and greyer. Izuku entered an empty dorm, seeing as his classmates were still at training. As if on autopilot, Izuku began the process of making dinner. Although most of the class had protested, Izuku insisted on making dinner each night. He felt guilty, not doing so. 

His classmates entered just as he was finishing up, rambunctious as ever. Vivacious arguments and conversations about training washed over his ears and Izuku was hit with a sudden wave of jealousy. It turned his stomach, a feeling foreign yet familiar all the same. He put a lid on the dish he was carrying and set it on the stove, ready to be eaten. Barely taking the time to write a note telling them that this was for them, he rushed towards the back stairs of the dorm. 

It wasn’t that Izuku was deliberately avoiding his friends (although that was exactly what he was doing. It was just that with the conversation that he had with Nezu, his upcoming chemotherapy treatment, and the growing feeling of being left behind by his friends, he couldn’t really handle being around his classmates right now. 

He pushed open the door to the stairwell and opened his door, slumping against the wood once he closed it again. Existing seemed to be too much right now, but not existing would be even worse. Izuku decided to take a nap. He wouldn’t have to think about being sick, or being useless, or anything else. As quickly as his sluggish body would allow, Izuku changed into comfortable clothes and fell face-first onto his bed. Normally, Izuku had a bit of an insomnia problem. But with his treatments and the weight of his conversation with Nezu, the green-haired boy was able to fall asleep quite quickly.

Chapter Text

Izuku woke in a sea of black, tethered to the space by wisps of black clouds. The gentle nothingness undulated around his incorporeal body, inky tendrils of night brushing softly against his As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Izuku realized that he was floating in the void of the vestiges. He felt his body drift forward, as if beckoned by an unseen ocean wave. The incorporeal current lapped gently against his exposed skin. Dim light blinked in the distance in front of his eyes, slowly materializing into a familiar sight.

He floated in front of a room on the edge of infinity. The single wall was bare, riddled with chasms. The faded checkered floor fared little better. Pieces of checked concrete drifted silently into oblivion. Izuku felt his feet touch down on one of the islands of dust. 

A lone figure stood in the center of the bare room. His hair was long and loose around his shoulders, the silver strands flickering in the unfelt wind. Eyes as green as his own shone with an unnatural brightness, an otherworldliness. The figure’s frame was tal;; his shirt billowed around him, making more apparent the slimness of his wrists and the hollowness of his bones. Yoichi Shigaraki, the first holder of One for All, smiled gently at the boy on the outskirts of the vestige realm. He held his slim hand out, fingers splaying as he reached. Izuku reached back. As their hands met, he felt a miniscule spark rush through their joined hands up through his arm to his chest. Gentle warmth melted into his bones.

“Hello, Izuku.” Yoichi’s voice was soft and gentle. It thrummed through Izuku’s bones and nestled into the space between his ribs. Yoichi pulled Izuku towards the empty space of the room. The two sat down facing each other. Both were silent for a while, not quite knowing what to say. Yoichi eventually broke the silence.

“It seems that you and I are more alike than we first thought.” His voice kept its gentle cadence, but Izuku saw the downturn of his eyes.

“I guess so,” Izuku said. Yoichi hesitated.

“I remember when I was younger, I had to spend a lot of time in the hospital. My brother used to come visit me every day. On good days, he would read to me. On the bad days, he would just sit with me. I didn’t have the heart to tell him to leave. The ironic thing is, he did. We were older and he was stronger, more powerful. I was still sick. He would send cards and flowers, the best that money could buy. But he never came. I could never tell which one I hated more.” Yoichi sighed wistfully. “Even when I was in the vault, when he quite literally held the key to my entire world, he rarely visited. I think, in the end, it was better that way. When I was rescued, I didn’t hesitate. The good memories were there, but so were the bad. I think that if he had stayed, even once more, I wouldn’t have been able to leave.” 

“I’m sorry, Yoichi.” 

“Please, don’t be. What’s done is done, and there’s no changing the past. But I need you to know this, Izuku.” Yoichi tilted the other’s chin up so that their eyes met again. “I know that you’ve been considering giving One for All to Bakugou. I need you to know that if you do, we will still be by your side. We won’t leave, even if you have to let us go. Izuku, you are not alone in this.” 

The man pulled Izuku into his arms, tucking the boy under his chin. Izuku’s arms wound around the other’s torso, fingers digging into the material of his shirt. Izuku closed his eyes and pressed himself closer to the man’s beating heart, thrumming gently through the wall of his chest.

“We will never abandon you, Izuku. We are yours just as you are ours.” Unbidden, tears streaked down Izuku’s cheeks, wetting the shirt of the man in front of him. Sensation faded as Izuku cried, Yoichi’s body slipping away from his crooked fingers.

When Izuku opened his eyes again, it was to the dim light of his dorm room. A sliver of golden light cut through the darkness, interrupted by the mass of a body in front of his own. Large and calloused hands lay upon him, carving a burning path in his scalp. Crimson eyes, darkened by the light in the room so that they appeared almost black, blinked as Izuku watched. They were crinkled with a gentle sort of unreadable expression, softening as his eyes opened more. A thumb, warm and rough, brushed gently at the skin under his eyes. An errant wisp of ash blonde hair fell gently as Katsuki shifted. 

“What’s with the tears, shitty nerd?” Katsuki’s voice was rough and low, softened by the low light. The hand caressing his cheek shifted to hold the side of his head.

“Nothing, Kacchan. It was just a dream.”

Chapter Text

Over the next several weeks, Izuku began growing used to his new existence. His weeks were filled with lessons and meetings with Principal Nezu, each day building up dread for the weekend. He would meet Recovery Girl each Friday and spend the weekend alternating between his bed and the bathroom. His voice began to sound rough as he spoke, each word akin to the feeling of swallowing gravel. 

Little by little, Izuku could feel himself shrink. Although his ability to exercise wasn’t completely restricted, he was unable to complete more strenuous workouts. That, combined with the lasting nausea that only seemed to build up as the weeks went by, meant that Izuku’s precious gained muscle disappeared before his eyes. He found himself shivering more often than not, unable to fight off the chill as the weather cooled around him. The upside of this was that Katsuki was more than happy to oblige in helping Izuku keep warm. The blonde could more often than not be found curled around the other. Once they had been studying in the common room and Mina took a picture of them. Izuku had been sitting in Katsuki’s lap, the blonde’s arms encircling his waist and his head leaning on the green haired boy’s shoulder as they read from the same textbook. 

Although Izuku tried to keep a positive attitude about himself, he felt exhaustion seep deep into his bones. Getting out of bed was becoming more and more of a struggle as the treatment wore on, and he could feel his strength failing more each day. Often, it was hard for Izuku to stay awake. He had fallen asleep on his classmates multiple times, curling in on them for warmth. None dared to move him, as doing so felt almost like betrayal. 

But life went on, and everyone adjusted as best as they were able. Secretly, they hoped that this would be the worst of it and Izuku would soon be well again. 

Izuku came downstairs later that night to get some water. Most of the class had gone to bed, besides the girls and Aoyama. Apparently there was some sort of group hangout. He had been invited, but was too tired to go. He decided to stop into the communal bathroom before he went back upstairs, as Katsuki was asleep in his room and he didn’t want to wake the other. 

He felt an itch on the side of his head as he washed his hands. Idly reaching up to scratch it, Izuku felt a small tugging sensation as he pulled his hand away. Following it was a large chunk of hair, the curly green strands snarling together in his damp palm. Izuku froze, staring down at his hand. As if in a state of shock, the green haired boy turned off the sink and dried his hands before sinking down onto the bathroom floor, sliding under the sink and sitting with his back against the wall. Izuku’s eyes burned but he felt distant and far away. He fumbled in his pockets for his phone before remembering that he had left it upstairs. He began to laugh, although it sounded closer to tears.

He thought that he shouldn't be so upset - it was only a matter of time before this would happen. But the hair coming out in his hand meant that everything was real, that he couldn’t just push it to the side any more. His hands went up to his hair, traitor though it was, and began to tug aimlessly. Izuku pressed his head to his knees, hands still tugging at hair which didn’t resist his pull. He didn’t know how long he sat there for, crying and laughing and pulling, when all of a sudden someone placed their hand on his knee. He looked up.

A face like a fairy tale prince appeared, slowly sinking down to sit level with his own. Indigo eyes were furrowed in concern. Distantly, Izuku thought that the expression looked so foreign in those eyes. 

“Mon ange, ça va bien?” Aoyama’s voice was gentle and low. Izuku realized that the French boy was sitting on the bathroom floor, in the process of sliding under the sinks to sit next to him. He was wearing pajamas, colored silvery blue. Those eyes never left his own.

“Wait, Aoyama. You’ll get your outfit dirty.” Izuku blinked, surprised at hearing his own voice. The hand that had been on his knee came up and wrapped around his wrist, pulling his hand gently away from his hair. Izuku tried to resist, but found that his strength failed in that moment. He clenched his fist closed.

“Oh mon cher,” Aoyama whispered. “Please tell me what has happened.” Izuku looked at him, hesitant. “I promise I will not be upset, mon lapin.”

Izuku sighed and pressed his head against the blonde’s shoulder. Slowly, he uncurled his hand. In his palm lay a large chunk of green curls. Aoyama didn’t flinch or change his expression from one of concern. The only reaction he gave was a softening realization of what that chunk of hair meant. He drew Izuku into his arms, shifting his knees so that their positions were more comfortable. The blonde pressed his lips gently to Izuku’s forehead. Izuku’s face crumpled.

“I,it’s stupid, I know I shouldn’t be up-up-upset,” Izuku stuttered as his tears began to fall, “I-I mean, I knew that this would ha-happen and I w-was expecting it, but-” Aoyama shushed him gently.

“Mon ange, it is okay to be upset. It does not matter if you were expecting it or not. It is a change that was going to happen, yes. But that does not mean that you are not allowed to be sad.” Izuku sniffled and tried to suppress his sobs. Aoyama stroked a gentle hand across his shoulders. “Would you like me to call Monsieur Kacchan, mon cherie?” Izuku laughed at the phrase ‘Monsieur Kacchan’ but shook his head.

“I don’t want to wake him up. He’s said otherwise but I know he’s been having trouble sleeping lately.” Aoyama nodded.

“Then will you join me for a while? Les filles et moi are spending time together. I know that they would love for you to join us.” Izuku hesitated again, looking down mournfully at the clump of hair in his hand. Aoyama continued, “And I know that they will be happy to help.” Izuku nodded. The blonde grinned and slid out from under the sink, standing up and dusting off the front of his pajama shirt. He whirled around and bowed, extending his hand to Izuku.

“If you would allow me the pleasure, mon lapin, I will escort you there.” Izuku laughed, his voice wet and scratched and accepted Aoyama’s hand. The blonde pulled him up and placed his free hand gently on Izuku’s hip, stabilizing him as he stood up. As the head rush passed, Aoyama led him out of the bathroom and to the elevator, holding his hand gently. The did not speak during their journey. Izuku leaned his head against Aoyama’s shoulder as they stood in the elevator, the door softly chiming as it opened. They walked to one of the rooms down the hall, the name plate signaling that it was Yaoyorozu’s room. 

Aoyama knocked, and the door swung open. Mina stood in the doorway.

“Aoyama, where were you? We almost sent out a search par-” Mina trailed off as she saw Izuku standing behind the blonde. She grinned.

“Hi Mido!” Izuku waved at her with the hand not being clutched by Aoyama. The pink hero beckoned the two in, her arm wrapping around Izuku’s shoulders for a brief hug. 

His classmates had been more liberal with their displays of physical affection toward him. When asked, Mina had told him that they were simply letting their inhibitions free and no longer holding back the affection they had wanted to give him since they had met. 

Izuku trailed behind the other two as they entered. Yaoyorozu’s room seemed much bigger than the traditional dorm room, although that may be simply an illusion. The light was cheerfully dim, soothing and not too harsh. Candles were set across the room, and the girls in class were strewn in various places. Yaoyorozu held court sitting on her bed, Jirou by her side running her hand through the other’s hair. Uraraka was painting Hagakure’s nails. Every one seemed to be wearing some form of face mask. As Mina greeted everyone again, Jirou looked up. 

“You should probably sit down, Midoriya.” Her voice was soft and she pointed at an unoccupied cushion. Aoyama directed him over and he sank down gracefully as another headrush began to hit. As it cleared, Izuku saw a water bottle hovering in front of his face. He blinked, before realizing that it was Hagakure.

“Thank you,” he said, his hand shaking as it came up to claim the bottle. 

“No problem, Mido,” the invisible girl said cheerfully, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead before scampering off to Uraraka. The brunette looked over at him, appraisingly. 

“Are you okay, Deku? Mina said that you weren’t feeling well earlier, and that’s why you couldn’t come.” Izuku opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Aoyama cut in. 

“I found le petit lapin downstairs.” Izuku shot him a grateful look. Mina sidled up next to him before plopping down, a hopeful expression on her face.

“Can I do your hair, Mido?” Izuku hesitated. Her face was so sincere and he wanted to relent, but he was worried about what she might say. 

“I’m…not sure if that’s a great idea, Mina.” The pink hero tilted her head in question. Izuku didn’t quite know what to say. Instead of speaking, he uncurled his hand again. Mina looked down at the hair in his hand. Her eyes widened and she looked up, eyebrows crinkling. She smiled and spoke, her voice softer than before.

“That’s alright, Mido. I’ll be super gentle.” Izuku grinned despite himself and relented. He faded out of focus as Mina’s hands wove through his hair, brushing the curly strands with practiced and sure hands. She prompted him to lean back and he felt a heaviness on his head, gentle liquid warmth pooling around his ears. Mina’s hands came back, heavy with a soapy substance. She drew small circles into his scalp, taking extra care to be gentle with the fragile strands. He felt warm water sluice down his forehead and into the receptacle that Mina had apparently prepared while he wasn’t aware. Despite her careful ministrations, the bowl was laden with curly green strands. He tried to apologize, but the pink hero quickly shushed him. 

Mina sat him back up and held his shoulders until he was okay to sit on his own. He felt cooling droplets of water trickle down his neck before a soft fabric was pressed to the damp part. His hair was patted gently as Mina dried it. She hesitated for a minute, then spoke gently to him, soft enough that no one else heard her words. 

“Do you want me to cut your hair, Mido? Just an option, honey.” Izuku thought about it, then shook his head. He’d like to keep as much hair as he could for as long as he could. Mina smiled down at him and, taking care not to displace the towel, threw her arms around him and squished him. Izuku pressed his head gently against her shoulder, too tired to reciprocate the gesture. Mina made a high pitched squeaking noise as he did. 

“Not that I don’t love it, but is there a reason we’re hugging Deku?” Uraraka’s voice was light and airy, tinged only slightly with concern.

“Nah, Mido’s just so cute. I can see why you call him a bunny, Aoyama.” The blonde simply laughed. Mina returned to her task. Izuku let himself drift off somewhat, feeling safe in their care. He came back when Mina tapped him on the shoulder, blinking sleepily. Mina made another choked noise of delight at his expression. The pink hero shifted so that she was sitting next to Izuku. He flopped his head onto her shoulder. Tsuyu walked over from where she sat next to Aoyama. She curled up on Izuku’s other side, laying her head gently on his shoulder. Izuku felt his eyes slipping closed and, on the verge of sleep, heard the shutter of a camera click followed by muttered admonishments. 

Izuku awoke in his own bed. Ashy blonde spikes splayed against the pillow next to him. He shifted. A large, warm arm slid over his waist. The heat from the body next to him lulled Izuku back to sleep, a small grin on his face.

Chapter Text

Katsuki took the new development of Izuku’s sickness in stride. Izuku had been half-scared that Katsuki would be repulsed, withdrawn, resentful. But the blonde, hands so often used for violence and defense, brushed gently through the frail strands. He held Izuku’s face in those large, warm hands with such tenderness and devotion that Izuku felt his throat close with emotion. His face felt enveloped in gentle fire, flames warming him but never burning, never daring to singe his skin. He leaned into the other’s touch, eyes fluttering closed. Warm lips, chapped slightly from the cold weather, pressed softly into the skin under his eye. 

“I love you, Izuku,” Katsuki whispered, his lips brushing against the other’s skin. Izuku’s voice rasped as he spoke, barely audible in the quiet of his room.

“I love you, Katsuki.” The blonde’s hands tensed against his skin. Izuku opened his eyes slightly. Katsuki was still close to him, their faces inches from each other. Katsuki’s eyes, hard rubies in the daytime, were molten pools of roiling lava, shining on the surface. His face was open, vulnerable. 

The two were sitting in Izuku’s room. It was Saturday, which meant both a reprieve from the stress of the school week and a peak in Izuku’s post-chemo sickness. Izuku was in that half-awake state you feel when you stay up too late and have to wake up early. He was soft and pliant under Katsuki’s warm hands. The blonde guided him to lay against his chest, curled into his side. Izuku burrowed further into the other’s warmth, his face nuzzling against the broad expanse of chest in front of him. Katsuki held one of Iuzku’s hands, the other curled up against his chest. Izuku’s hand was small and scarred, as it had been since the Sports Festival. But the hands which, even in his youth had been strong and stout, were slim and delicate, more bone than flesh. Katsuki held it in his own, running a thumb over scarred knuckles. His hands felt massive, clumsy and destructive and unworthy of holding the one clutching his own. 

Izuku’s lashes fluttered against the skin of Katsuki’s collarbone, gentle caresses barely there in the dawn light. He was in between bouts of nausea, safe in Katsuki’s arms for the time being. They were content to lay together, savoring every moment as if it would be their last. Comfortable, sorrowful silence flooded the room, a familiar presence. It was abruptly interrupted by a shrill alarm sound. Katsuki groaned, burying his head in Izuku’s curls. The green haired boy huffed a small laugh into the other’s chest. 

“C’mon, Kacchan. Time to get up. You still need to train.” Katsuki growled gently into the forest of curls in front of him. “Go. I’ll still be here when you get back.” Reluctantly, the blonde pulled away, Iuzku’s hand still in his. He pressed his lips gently against the scarred knuckles, eyes closing in what felt like reverence. 

“I’ll be back soon, Izu.” The blonde left, lingering gazes staying even after the dorm door shut. Izuku sighed. He hadn’t known Katsuki was such an affectionate person, and couldn’t help but wonder if his situation influenced the other’s behavior. Not wanting to spiral into self-doubt, he shuffled over to the side of the bed, reaching over for his phone. The screen lit up and, even at the lowest brightness available, the display still made his eyes burn slightly. He checked his messages.

Mama: Hi baby! I miss you!

Izuku smiled. His mother never failed to message or call him at least once per day. Since his diagnosis, her texts became more frequent, as if it was her way of making up for not being there for him in person. Deciding to reply later when his brain was functioning at a higher capacity, Izuku locked his phone and rolled onto his back. Now that Katsuki was busy, Izuku had a lot to think about. He looked over at his desk, then down at the floor. Quite luckily, a notebook with a pen stuck between the pages lay within his reach. He rolled to the edge of the bed and reached over, fingers brushing over the smooth cover before latching on and pulling. Notebook in hand, Izuku scooched up the bed so that he was sitting up. He flipped open the notebook and filed through it until he found a blank page. First order of business would be to make a list of his worries and concerns.

List of Things I’m Worried About:

1. Winter break - can I go home? Will I be able to come back at all? 
2. One for All - when should I give it to Kacchan? Should I tell him when I do?
3. Letters
4. What happens next?

Izuku sat, his pen tapping gently against his lip. He felt a cough work its way up his throat and he reached over to the bedside table for a tissue. After hacking what felt like a lung up and discarding the bloody tissue in a nearby waste bin, he returned to his notebook. 

What I can control right now:

1. I can email Mr. Aizawa and Recovery Girl. If needed, I can file a formal request to leave campus.
1. Justification: I want to be able to spend the holidays with my mom because it might be the last time I can. 
2. I should give Kacchan One for All over winter break. There’s a high chance that I won’t be able to return to campus, or to classes in-person, so this may be my last chance. Still unsure if I should tell him - he was so upset when I brought it up last time. 
3. I should start the letters as soon as I can, so that they’ll be ready if need be. 
4. I don’t know, and I’m scared to find out. 

Izuku set his pen down, heaving a tired breath. He decided to start by emailing Mr. Aizawa to see if there was an option to leave campus for the holidays or whether he would have to request to leave campus. He also emailed Recovery Girl to inform her of his plans. He could bring the topic up next week during their meeting, but he was worried that he might forget, or flake out, or be too tired to bring it up. He had begun to sleep during his chemo sessions and every time he woke up it was to Recovery Girl’s stern face softened with an expression of well-hidden sadness. He realized that there was one more person that should be informed. 

Izu: Hey mama! I miss you too <3

Izu: I wanted to ask you if it was okay if I come home to visit you during the break in two weeks. 

His mother replied almost instantaneously. Izuku assumed that she had been using her phone while his text had been sent. 

Mama: oh my baby I would love that

Mama: did you tell Mr. Aizawa and Recovery Girl?

Izu: I just emailed them. I don’t know if I need a formal request to leave campus so I’m asking in case.

Mama: That’s a good idea.

Mama: I know that last time you mentioned not needing one, but there have been more villain attacks recently so I was worried. 

Izu: I’ll let you know what they say

Mama: Okay baby :^) Get some rest - it’s pretty early still and I know you had your treatment yesterday.

Mama: Usually you sleep a lot the day after. Is everything okay?

Izu: Everything’s fine, mama. Kacchan’s alarm went off and I haven’t fallen back asleep quite yet.

Mama: …

Mama: IZUKU MIDORIYA ARE YOU HAVING YOUR BOYFRIEND STAY IN YOUR ROOM OVERNIGHT UNSUPERVISED

Izu: MOM NO

Izu: omg

Izu: Kacchan usually stays the night after treatment in case anything happens or I need help to the bathroom. I promise nothing untoward is happening.

Mama: … >:/

Izuku laughed. 

Izu: I promise, mama. Mr. Aizawa knows about it. 

Mama: … I’ll allow it

Mama: I expect you to bring Katsuki over during the break, at least. 

Izu: I’ll ask him mama. Maybe we can have dinner with the Bakugous. 

Mama: That sounds like an amazing idea! I’ll ask Mitsuki.

Izu: Okay mama. I think I’m gonna try to get some more sleep.

Mama: Okay baby. I love you so much!

Izu: I love you too 

Izuku closed his eyes, half-scared that he had accidentally domed Katsuki. His phone chimed. He looked down at it, confused, before seeing that it was a text from Aizawa. 

Ambien Man: nezu said u need permission from RG 

Ambien Man: administrative shit

Izu: Okay, Mr. Aizawa. Thank you for replying so quickly!

Ambien Man: all of ur texts feel like someone anxiously emailing their college professor

Ambien Man: please know i mean this affectionately 

Izu: Haha okay Mr. Aizawa

Ambien Man: cat.jpeg

Izuku opened the attachment to see an absolutely adorable picture of Aizawa’s cat, Snowball. Snowball was a black cat with a missing leg, one eye, and the meanest right hook Izuku had ever seen. She was a mean little ball of fur who, when rescued by Aizawa, had actually taken a swing at him for interrupting her fist fight. Izuku had met Snowball for the first time on a visit to Eri. He had fallen in love within a minute of seeing the fluffball. Izuku was in the incredibly exclusive party of people Snowball allowed to pet her, and he cherished this title with all he had. Aizawa had taken to sending pictures of Snowball as well as his other cats to Izuku in moral support. After all, emotions were definitely not Aizawa’s strong suit. He appreciated the crumb of serotonin offered to him each time. Izuku saved the picture to his phone and sent an appropriately enthusiastic text to express his undying devotion to the Cult of Snowball. 

Unfortunately, all of that brainpower and mind numbing use of technology triggered another nausea episode. Heaving a sigh of exhaustion, Izuku pulled the waste bin from the floor and propped it up next to him in bed. He didn’t have enough energy to walk to his desk, much less the bathroom, and Kacchan wasn’t there to carry him and tell Izuku facts about obscure heroes to distract the green haired boy from his nausea. Izuku leaned his head back against the wall and breathed through his nose, silently willing his stomach to please cooperate. 

The slow, steady rhythm of his breaths quelled the impending nausea enough that Izuku was able to open his eyes again. He watched the dim golden light of the sunrise brighten and shift as it pooled through his curtains. Oh, to be a cat called Snowball , he thought, unencumbered by the weight of the world and curled into a beam of sunlight.

Chapter Text

The next two weeks passed as the previous had, but with a stirring rumble of suppressed excitement giving the class an energetic edge that it had lost throughout the course of the term. Even the looming promise of finals week couldn’t cut through the anticipation for the upcoming break. Izuku, despite himself, found that he wasn’t immune from the upcoming holiday cheer. Seeing his classmates’ cheer never failed to bring a smile to Izuku’s face.

Katsuki adored the holidays, contrary to popular belief. He had all but taken over the kitchen - a notable exception in Sato, for cookie- and treat-related business. Izuku was more often than not in the kitchen while Katsuki cooked, acting as a taste tester and a body for the blonde to occasionally lean his head on. 

Today, Izuku sat on the counter next to the sink as Katsuki bustled around the dorm kitchen, comically fluffy apron in place across his broad chest. The green haired boy was dressed in one of Katsuki’s sweaters, the fabric swallowing him. The blonde walked by, humming a holiday tune under his breath and carrying a pan of some delicious-smelling food. Izuku closed his eyes and listened to the ambient sound of the kitchen mixing with Katsuki’s low hum. His head fell gently to rest on his shoulder. Katsuki passed by, an errant hand brushing against the side of his cheek. Izuku’s lips parted in a small smile. Warm hands encircled his waist and Izuku’s head was pressed to a broad chest. The steady thrum of a heartbeat vibrated through the skin of his forehead. Katsuki’s hands slid from his waist to rest on his shoulders. Holiday music played softly in the background. Izuku’s own hands wrapped around Katsuki’s waist, one hand fisted weakly in the blonde’s black shirt. A broad, warm hand traced against the ridges of his spine. 

“Christmas Eve will find me, where the love light gleams.” Katsuki’s voice was low and husky, undulating softly in his brain. The vibration of the blonde singing along to the music thrummed through his chest. Izuku joined in, his voice half-gone in the warm low light. Katsuki pressed his head into Izuku’s curls, one hand coming up to scratch gently at the nape of his neck. 

“Think you’ll be okay to ride the train tomorrow?” Katsuki’s voice was muffled. Izuku nodded, leaning more heavily on Katsuki’s shoulder. “Reason I ask is that the old hag chewed me out for daring to forget to ask her to drive.” Izuku laughed softly. 

“I’m sure she meant well, Kacchan. But I’m kind of looking forward to taking the train with you.” Izuku felt Katsuki’s face shift against his head and knew that the blonde was grinning. 

“Me too, Izu.” The room was quiet for a moment. Izuku felt safe and peaceful in the circle of Katsuki’s arms.

The moment was immediately ruined by a high-pitched screech. Izuku jumped at the sudden noise, a surprised cough escaping him. Katsuki’s shoulders tensed, the only sign that he had been startled. Izuku felt a small dribble of fluid trickling down his lower lip and pulled away from Katsuki, one hand coming up to wipe the blood away. Katsuki stalked over to the door of the kitchen and wrenched it open. 

A very sheepish Kaminari stared at him, holding a slowly melting hunk of snow in his hand. A wan grin stretched across his face. Katsuki growled and sparks popped off of one hand. Just as he was about to lunge forward, Katsuki felt pressure on his bicep. Izuku, hair flattening against where he was leaning, started at Kaminari absolutely perplexed.

“Kaminari? Why are you holding a handful of ice?” The blonde blinked before a wild grin spread across his face.

“It’s snowing, Izu-babe! Wanna come out and see?” Izuku nodded against Katsuki’s arm and shuffled forward. Kaminari met him halfway and swept him up into his arms, earning a squawk from Izuku. Katsuki barked out a laugh.

“Kaminari! I am perfectly capable of walking outside!” Izuku’s face glowed red as the blonde swung him up over his shoulder. Katsuki, still chuckling, followed behind. 

“‘Course I know that, Izu-babe. But see, it’s my mission to make sure you arrive in style .” Kaminari grinned as he set Izuku down on his feet, a hand around his waist in case he fainted. Katsuki walked up behind the two and dropped a coat on Izuku’s head. Kaminari began guiding Izuku’s arms through the sleeves and buttoning the front of the coat up, chattering all the while and keeping Izuku so distracted that he didn’t notice. Kaminari spun for a moment and pulled a hat out with a flourish. He slung the hat on Izuku’s head, the seemingly rough movement entirely negated by the gentleness with which he settled the hat on Izuku’s head. From behind, Katsuki flung a scarf over the other’s shoulder and, deftly catching the end, Kaminari wound it around the green-haired boy’s neck. Izuku flushed with embarrassment at being dressed for the cold like a small child, but a small part of him buried deep reveled in the feeling of people caring so much about him. The three shoved their feet into shoes, Izuku finally drawing the line and pushing Kaminari’s hands away from helping him. Katsuki snorted but said nothing.

The three were quiet for a moment, then Kaminari lunged forward and swung Izuku over his shoulder once more. The green-haired boy huffed but said nothing, resigned to his fate. Katsuki followed behind as the group walked out the dorm doors and into the night. 

The world lay buried under a blanket of snow. Flakes drifted silently from the grey sky. The world was muted and quiet, tinged a blue-grey. The snow shone the reflected light coming from inside the dorm. It seemed like a scene from a painting, idyllic and quiet. The quiet was soon interrupted by a red blur barrelling forward, stopping just shy of knocking Kaminari - and by extension, Izuku - over. Izuku flopped down over Kaminari’s shoulder and leaned to the side.

The grinning face of Kirishima swung down so that they faced the same direction.

“Hey man! How’s it hanging?” Katsuki snorted next to them.

“Pretty okay. And yourself?” Izuku tried to keep the wavering laughter out of his voice. The situation was so ridiculous that he couldn’t help but laugh at it. Kirishima’s grin widened.

“Not too bad, myself.” He righted himself and turned his head to Kaminari. “Upside down really the best option, man?” Izuku felt Kaminari shrug. He felt Kaminari shift his body and lower him to the ground. Kirishima almost immediately swept him up into a back-breaking embrace, spinning around and laughing. Izuku could do little but cling to Kirishima’s shoulder and laugh as the world went wobbly. 

Kirishima set him down after a few more rotations and held his shoulders. 

“C’mon, man. We convinced Iida to do extreme sledding.” Kirishima pulled Izuku along by the hand, Kaminari sneaking past Katsuki to grab his other one. He laughed even at the sound of explosions behind them. 

Chapter Text

Izuku was more or less swarmed in the morning. The common area had been quite calm when he arrived. Clumps of students were sprinkled throughout the room, chatting quietly and a few waving when they noticed him. He began to make his way towards the kitchen when he felt the overwhelming urge to sneeze. He began to walk more quickly as he felt the pressure build up. Katsuki stood just inside the doors, his head turned in conversation. He had almost made it across the kitchen door threshold when the sneeze slipped out. 

The room went deathly silent. Izuku could feel the pinpricks of 20 pairs of eyes - as Aizawa had entered the room seconds before the incident - boring into his back. Katsuki’s head had snapped towards him at the noise, his brow furrowed in concern before his face flattened, obviously holding back laughter at the green-haired boy’s situation. 

Traitor , Izuku mouthed. Katsuki’s shoulders shook as a tidal wave of noise and concerned hero-hopefuls descended on Izuku. The green-haired boy was dragged from where he stood and placed gently on the couch, blankets seemingly summoned from nowhere falling on his shoulders. An irate Iida began his lecture, chastising himself for allowing Izuku to spend so much time in the snow the evening prior. Someone - Izuku suspected Yaoyorozu - pressed a steaming mug of tea into his hands. Izuku was a tad bit too flummoxed to say anything to dissuade the onslaught of noise and concern. Aizawa, leaning against the wall, snorted and began disassembling the whirling mass of his students. 

“Leave Midoriya alone, problem children. The snow didn’t make him sick, but your pestering just might.” Izuku hid a grin by taking a sip of the tea and Katsuki let out a loud bark of laughter. Aizawa began herding the class away from the couch Izuku was sitting on, shooting down protests with a glare. He turned back slightly and gave Izuku a wan smile. Katsuki hopped over the back of the couch and slung his arm around the other’s shoulder. Izuku leaned in to the embrace, his eyes fluttering shut. 

The rest of the morning was similarly hectic, as one might expect from a group of high schoolers frantically scrambling to do the packing up that they had procrastinated until the last minute. Shouts and arguments intermingled with the festive music playing through the closed door of Izuku’s dorm. He and Katsuki’s bags sat by the door, packed and ready to go. Katsuki had insisted on preparing beforehand. 

The two lay sprawled on Izuku’s dorm bed, the one that had seemed almost too small for the both of them not so long ago. Now, there almost seemed to be room to spare. Izuku’s head sat pillowed on Katsuki’s chest, the blonde’s deep breaths soothing beneath him. Katsuki was asleep beneath him. Last night had been hard for both of them. After an evening of revelry, the two came up to the room to rest before they had dinner with the rest of the class. Izuku had walked into the dorm and immediately collapsed. Katsuki had caught him just in time. Izuku had struggled to breathe for a good five minutes, so much so that Katsuki had almost called in reinforcements. He could feel Izuku’s heaving breaths, skin retracting against his ribs, the beat of his heart wild and frantic. Suddenly, the episode passed. Neither could fall asleep until the early hours of the morning. Even in the throes of sleep, Katsuki had his hand pressed to Izuku’s back, just over his heart. 

Izuku felt a shudder pass over him at the reminder of what had happened last night. With every breath he took, he could feel the dreams of a small child with no quirk and a heart too big for his own good dying bit by bit. It wouldn’t be long until Izuku would need supplemental oxygen, which would mean a decline in what he could do on his own. Not to say that having supplemental oxygen made a person weak or incapable of independent living. Far from it. For Izuku, needing supplemental oxygen was a sign of things getting worse. During his hospital stay when he was younger, he had only needed oxygen support when he had been too weak to move on his own, much less stand up or fight a villain. Only time would tell if that would be the case again, but Izuku had a feeling that history would repeat itself. 

Izuku burrowed his head further into Katsuki’s chest, willing the thoughts of his future to go away. Right now, he wanted to focus on the present. The rise and fall of Katsuki’s chest beneath his cheek, the warm broad hand pressed to his back, the warm low light of his room, the feeling of safety and acceptance. 

Izuku had drifted, staying in the state just on the cusp of sleep, when a soft knock came from his door. The noise was quiet enough that it didn’t wake Katsuki, Izuku noted with relief. He slid from the warm circle of the blonde’s arms and padded to the door, grabbing an ever-present blanket from his desk chair. Izuku opened the door to reveal Aizawa in all of his exhausted glory. 

“Hi, Mr. Aizawa.” 

“Hey, kid.” Aizawa’s voice was soft. Izuku couldn’t tell if it was because he sensed the peace in the air or if he was just tired of yelling at his students. Izuku opened the door wider and gestured for his teacher to come in. The green-haired boy sank down on the side of the bed, Aizawa taking the desk chair shortly after. 

“Hope you don’t mind my barging in. Wrangling these problem children is a headache on most days. Add the excitement of the holidays in…” Aizawa trailed off, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. 

“It’s no worries, Mr. Aizawa.”

“Thanks, kid. We’ll leave around 7, just as soon as I know the rest of the class is on the way or made it home.” Izuku nodded. 

One of the stipulations of Izuku being allowed to go home was that a representative from UA would accompany him. Nedzu had claimed it was for his - and more largely, UA’s administration - peace of mind. Izuku didn’t doubt that there was a probability that it was for liability purposes, but Izuku had decided to pick his battles, and lately it seemed that he was picking fewer and fewer battles. 

“How’s Snowball?” Izuku asked, leaning forward slightly. Aizawa shot him a deadpan expression as he whipped out his phone. A few clicks later, the teacher held the device out for him to look at. Izuku melted at the sight.

Eri, dressed in a festive holiday outfit, cradled Snowball the cat, who was wearing a santa hat and looking thoroughly unimpressed. Izuku let out a laugh as he saw Mirio in the background, cowering and looking on in consternation at the sight in front of him. Aizawa grinned.

“Eri begged Mirio to put the hat on. I’d say he preferred fighting Overhall.” Izuku laughed again. Behind him, Katsuki startled and shot up, eyes wild. His expression relaxed when he saw Izuku sitting near him, then dropped when he saw Aizawa. The teacher raised one brow but said nothing, instead swiping his finger across the screen to another picture of Snowball. The trio spent a while laughing at Snowball and Mirio’s misery before Aizawa sighed and stood up.

“I’m going to make sure no one’s killed anyone. I’ll be back soon.” He turned around, even as he walked towards the door. “Get some rest, problem children.” The door closed behind him, the latch clicking softly as it shut. 

Katsuki circled his arms around Izuku’s waist and flopped back on the bed, dragging the smaller boy down with him. Izuku squawked in protest and shifted around, starfishing across Katsuki. The blonde snorted, allowing Izuku to wriggle himself into a comfortable position. The two found themselves in the position they had been in before Aizawa arrived. Katsuki pressed his hand to Izuku’s back, firm and grounding, before rubbing up and down the other’s spine. His hand warmed and Izuku melted. He quickly fell asleep under the ministrations of the blonde.

Izuku woke up a few hours later, completely disoriented. His head was half-smashed into a pillow and his limbs were splayed around. He propped himself up on his elbows to see Katsuki spinning around in his desk chair and Aizawa leaning against the wall. Izuku shot up from the bed, immediately regretting the action when the room swam. A warm hand pressed to his sternum and pushed him gently to sit down on the edge of the bed. Once the room stopped spinning, Izuku’s eyes cleared to see Katsuki kneeling in front of him, Aizawa standing behind his shoulder. Izuku flushed and ducked down.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Mr. Aizawa.” The teacher snorted.

“Problem Child, it’s fine. We’re not in any rush and you probably needed the rest.” Izuku nodded, still thoroughly red. Izuku stood up - much more slowly this time - and shuffled off to the restroom, not daring to make eye contact with Aizawa or Katsuki. 

By the time he finished, changing into clothes more appropriate for the chill outside, Aizawa and Katsuki had left, the bags sitting by the door noticeably absent. Izuku smiled despite himself and gazed once more around the room, feeling as if this would be the last time he would be in the room. 

The hallways seemed so empty as he walked alone to the elevator. Silence encroached from the walls. Izuku’s pace quickened, as if the emptiness was a visceral, real thing. The elevator doors clacked shut with a feeling of finality. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki bundled Izuku into copious layers with a vindictive pleasure. Izuku opened his mouth to protest, but stopped at the sight of Katsuki’s face, furrowed in concentration. Despite the impassive expression he wore, his eyes were downturned in a wistful sorrow. Strong and sure hands wound a well-loved scarf around Izuku’s neck. The green-haired boy smiled up at the other. They leaned into each other, eyes fluttering shut.

Aizawa watched on as the two descended into their own world, a saddened smile quirking his lips. He had seen Izuku’s eyes as he had exited the elevator - burdened with a quiet sort of resignation, one that only comes from laying down and accepting fate. Aizawa had never thought that he would ever see that kind of expression on Izuku’s face. Izuku, the problem child who never gave up even when it would be smarter and safer to. He sighed.

“Are you two problem children ready?” He asked. Both boys nodded and, hand in hand, walked out the door, Aizawa trailing behind them. The trio were quiet as they walked, their footfalls crunching gently against the cool concrete beneath them. Izuku and Katsuki’s clasped hands swung gently with the movement of their bodies. The sidewalk had been cleared of yesterday’s snow, the pavement darker where the ice had melted. Izuku looked up to the sky. The clouds hung over the dim evening sky, blue-grey and absolute. They plunged the world into shades of blue, the lamps on the sidewalk blazing fiery shades of orange against the cool backdrop. The world seemed muted, asleep, hidden in a gentle coffin of snow. 

Katsuki’s hand blazed warm in his freezing hand. Izuku had noticed that his hands could retain little heat. He looked down at his free hand - the scarred fingers were pale, tinged blue at the tips. Since the sports festival, his hands had always seemed lacking. They weren’t straight enough, they couldn’t warm themselves, they couldn’t go for too long without aching. Recovery Girl had frowned, but said it was a symptom of his injuries. Feeling the broad hand entwined with his, Izuku felt a surge of inadequacy roiling in his chest. As if sensing Izuku’s emotions, Katsuki leaned down and brought their clasped hands up. The blonde pressed his lips gently to the seam between Izuku’s hand and his wrist, just above his pulse point. Crimson eyes met his own, steady and sure. 

They walked on past the gate and down the sidewalk, their footsteps leaving tracks in the fresh snow. The road pavement, smoothed under snow and tire tracks, seemed a great divide. 

For being a holiday weekend, the train station was incredibly quiet. A few lone passengers sat in the train car with them, but none boarded or left. Aizawa was on edge. Izuku was too tired to care about much more than his head resting on Katsuki’s shoulders and the muted country passing by their window, almost black from the contrast of the bright train lights. Katsuki’s thumb rubbed a circle into the skin of Izuku’s hand. 

“Close your eyes, dumbass,” Katsuki murmured, “I’ve got you.” Izuku’s eyelids, as if on command, felt leadened and fluttered shut. The thrum of the train below his feet lulled him into a state of being half-asleep. 

Izuku was so unaware that when they reached their destination, Katsuki slung the other onto his back. Izuku made a soft noise and slumped his head over Katsuki’s shoulder. Aizawa looked over at them as the trio exited the train station. 

The snow crunched softly under their feet as they walked through the doors of the train station and into the night. Aizawa and Katsuki walked in silence, occasionally breaking to point out a turn or ask a question. Izuku sagged against Katsuki’s back, completely unaware of the world around him. His arms, scarred and frail, hung across the blonde’s shoulders and thumped gently against his chest as they walked. Katsuki said nothing, only shifting the boy on his back into a better position. The blonde would occasionally squeeze Izuku’s leg to reassure himself of the other boy’s presence. 

As the trip neared Izuku’s apartment complex, the green-haired boy stirred. Izuku blinked slowly and languidly, reminding Aizawa of a cat waking up from a nap. He gave a weak protest as Katsuki walked up the complex’s stairs, but ultimately stayed on the blonde’s back at Katsuki’s behest. Aizawa couldn’t hear what Katsuki had said to Izuku, but the green-haired boy smiled gently, burrowing his head into Katsuki’s neck. After a moment, his head popped back up.

“Do I even weigh anything to you?” Izuku asked. Katsuki snorted and replied.

“Nah. It’s like holding a couple of grapes.” Aizawa tuned out the two’s bickering as they neared a door marked with a nameplate reading “Midoriya”. He reached out to knock but was stopped by Katsuki. Aizawa watched as Izuku slid off of Katsuki’s back, the blonde’s hands staying firmly on Izuku’s waist until the threat of him falling passed. Izuku handed a key over to Katsuki and the blonde went to insert it into the lock when the door swung open, revealing a teary-eyed Inko Midoriya. 

Normally, Inko would have extended a more formal welcome to her guests. At the moment, though, she had eyes only for her son. Neither of the other two could find it in their hearts to begrudge her the time with Izuku as they watched the reunion. Not when Izuku’s head pressed into her shoulder and Inko closed her eyes as her arms wound around her son’s gaunt frame. Inko’s hands trembled as they clutched at the heavy fabric of Izuku’s coat. The green-haired boy, already angled down, leaned more heavily into his mother’s embrace. 

Inko and Izuku were both about the same height, meaning Izuku didn’t have to hunch over to embrace his mother. But the difference between the two was stark. Inko could bring her son into her arms, and even with the multitude of layers, still have room to spare. With one last squeeze, the two pulled away from each other. Inko brushed her hand down Izuku’s face before looking behind him and realizing that Aizawa and Katsuki were still standing in the doorway. She jumped, flushing as her hands waved around, a perfect imitation of her son when embarrassed. 

“Oh dear, where are my manners? Please come in!” The blustering mother ushered Katsuki and Aizawa through the threshold, helping her son divest himself of some layers. She turned to Aizawa.

“It’s quite nice to see you again, Mr.

Aizawa.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, ma’am. Your son is an incredibly accomplished student.” Inko brought hand to her mouth, flattered beyond belief. She turned to Katsuki and brought him into an embrace.

“Hello again, Katsuki dear.” Her tone was warm, the smile on her face evident.

“Hey, auntie. Good to see you again.” She patted his shoulder then pushed him towards Izuku. 

“Go make yourself comfortable, boys. I’m almost done with dinner.” Katsuki looked as if he was about to protest, but was cut off by the green-haired woman. “And I won’t hear any nonsense about you not staying.” Katsuki, smiling, raised his hands in surrender and walked over to Izuku, swinging the boy into his arms with a squawk of protest from Izuku. The sounds of the boys snarking at each other faded as Katsuki walked to the living room with Izuku in his arms. Inko turned back to Aizawa. Tears beaded in the corners of her eyes even as she smiled at him. 

“Thank you for taking care of my boy, Mr. Aizawa. Even before he got sick. Izuku’s told me about all you’ve done for him, and I want you to know how grateful we both are.” Aizawa hid his flushed face in his scarf.

“He’s a good kid. It’s been an honor to see him grow as a hero.” Inko patted his cheek and Aizawa felt distinctly like a young child being welcomed home after a snow day. 

“Well come on in. Dinner’s almost ready, and you look like you could use a meal.” Aizawa wasn’t sure whether he should be offended or not. He settled on simply feeling incredibly awkward. 

“I, uh, should be heading out.” 

“Are you sure? Izuku told me you were coming, so I made some coffee jelly.” Well that changes things. Aizawa hesitated, enticed by the promise of coffee. 

“I don’t want to impose, ma’am.” Inko laughed.

“Don’t be silly, Mr. Aizawa! I’m happy to feed you.” Aizawa hid his smile behind his scarf and nodded, reaching down to shuck his shoes off. He placed them next to Katsuki and Izuku’s, the incongruency of his shoes softened by the comforting atmosphere. He padded down the hall after the Midoriya matriarch, gazing around as they walked. The pictures drew his eye. 

There were many of young Katsuki and Izuku together, playing or sleeping or doing things that kids do, always having twins grins on their faces. A much younger Inko and Izuku smiled down at him, Izuku’s arms thrown around the woman’s shoulders. There were a few of Izuku in the hospital, his smile dimmed but still apparent. At the end, there was one picture that drew Aizawa’s eyes. It was a family portrait with the Midoriyas and Bakugos, joined by a mysterious man wearing an expensive suit. His hair was a pale silver and his eyes shone red. Despite the smile that he wore, there was an aura of danger surrounding the man. He half wanted to reach into the picture and draw his two students out. There was something familiar about that grin, but Aizawa couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. 

Inko looked back and, seeing the photo Aizawa was working at, walked over. 

“If you don’t mind my asking, who is that man?” 

“It’s my husband, Hisashi. We haven’t seen him since before Izuku went to the hospital for the first time.” At Aizawa’s look, she spoke again. “He took a job overseas, one that apparently keeps hims from being able to visit. I haven’t heard anything from him in about seven years. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the planet. Poor Izuku was so distraught. He thought that it was his fault that Hisashi left.” Inko’s hand clenched into a fist.

“As far as I’m concerned, that man is dead to us. He abandoned us, abandoned Izuku right when we needed him most and couldn’t even be bothered to call, let alone visit.” 

“Mrs. Midoriya. If he ever tries to contact you, please let me know. Call it intuition, but there’s something suspect about him.” Inko nodded.

“I’m sorry to unload all of that on you.”

“Please, it’s no trouble. I’d rather know about it then be uninformed about something that could potentially pose a risk to one of my students or their families.” He paused. “Actually, could I take a picture of him? I’d like to send it to the principal of UA and see if there’s anything we can tell you about him, in case we need to be concerned about anything.” Inko was quiet. Aizawa turned around and blanched.

Inko was on the verge of tears, her hands clasped near her chin. Aizawa stuttered.

“I-I’m so so-“ Inko cut him off.

“I’m so sorry for crying. It’s just I don’t think that anyone has shown that much concern for my son’s safety other than the Bakugosz Please feel free.” Aizawa nodded, even as his heart fell. Izuku’s jumpy behavior at the beginning of his first year began to make a bit more sense. He quickly snapped a picture and sent it to Nedzu with a quick explanation of the situation. He then began a message to Hizashi.

Ambien Man: @ the midoriyas. they insist on feeding me. txt u when i’m otw home

Presentation Michael: thanks for the heads up, baby! tell the little listener hi from me, kay?

Ambien Man: 👍🏼👍🏼

Presentation Michael: …….if there’s leftovers…..🥺👉🏼👈🏼

Ambien Man: i’ll ask 

Presentation Michael: 🥺😘

Aizawa locked his phone and looked up, seeing Inko turn the corner into what he presumed was the kitchen. He followed behind, pausing briefly to look into the living room at his two students. Aizawa’s heart melted at the sight, though he would not admit it even on pain of death. 

Izuku and Katsuki were curled together on the couch, a faded blanket thrown over their bodies. Katsuki leant against the arm of the sofa, his arms thrown loosely around Izuku’s waist. The green-haired boy’s head was pillowed against Katsuki’s chest, his eyes half-shut and hazy. Katsuki ran a large hand up and down the other’s spine, speaking to the other in a low and soothing voice. The blonde’s head snapped around, sensing Aizawa’s presence. He nodded to his teacher curtly then turned his attention back to the boy in his lap. Aizawa snuck his phone out and discreetly took a picture of the scene before sending it to his husband. Ignoring the litany of text messages on his phone, he joined Inko in the kitchen. She looked surprised. Aizawa gestured vaguely to the living room and Inko poked her head out, a choked off coo caught in her throat. 

“I’ll send you the picture, if you’d like.” Inko grinned and nodded before turning back to the stove. “How can I help?”

“If you’d like, could you carry these out to the table?” She pointed to a covered serving dish wafting with heavenly smells. Aizawa nodded and picked up the dish. Depositing it on the table, he returned. 

“Anything else that I can do, ma’am?” Inko hummed in thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“Everything’s almost done. I may need help carrying things out to the table, but you’re welcome to stay in here while I finish.” She paused, before laughing slightly. “Honestly, it’s such an unusual feeling to cook with someone other than the boys in the kitchen. We used to have family dinner nights with the Bakugos, and both boys insisted on helping every time. When it was just the two of us, Izuku would always help me out.” Inko laughed again, her voice wet with unshed tears. “When I finally got to take Izuku home from the hospital, he kept trying to get up to help me. He could barely stand on his own but kept trying to get up so we could make dinner together.” Inko wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

“It sounds like you two have always been very close.” Inko nodded.

“It’s been just Izuku and me against the world for such a long time. I think that every parent wishes that they could take their child’s pain away, carry it themselves so that their children won’t have to suffer. We hide what’s troubling us so our kids don’t have to worry. Sometimes it feels like Izuku tries to do that with me. He’ll hide his pain, his fear. But I know him so well that I can always tell. And he can do the same to me. I’ve always worried about him at UA. He’s a strong boy, but I can’t help but fear for him. Knowing that he has such an amazing group of people to support him, like Katsuki and you, eases some of my worry.” 

“I’m honored.” Inko smiled at him, teary eyed. 

“Thank you, Mr. Aizawa.” She clapped her hands together. “Alright, I think that everything’s done! Would you mind carrying those bowls to the table?” They walked out together, laden with dishware. Inko rushed back and grabbed water, somehow managing to get all the cups to the table without spilling a drop. She turned to Aizawa.

“Sit wherever you’d like, Mr. Aizawa. I’ll go get the boys.” She walked off into the living room, her voice low as she spoke. Aizawa sat down as the group arrived. Katsuki was talking with Inko as they arrived.

“Why didn’t you tell me, auntie? I would’ve been happy to help.” Inko patted his shoulder.

“Aw, Katsuki sweetie, don’t worry. You were busy with Izuku.” Katsuki flushed and looked down, nodding. Just then, Izuku appeared behind Katsuki’s shoulder. 

Izuku’s hair looked wilder than usual, rumpled with sleep and flatter on one side. He was wrapped up in a new sweater, a threadbare and well-loved sweatshirt with some sort of band on the front. The sweatshirt was a few sizes too big normally. It all but swallowed him now. The sleeves hung over his hands, fingertips barely visible even with the sleeves rolled up. He wore mismatched socks, one with mini All Might faces and the other with bunnies. He rubbed his eye with one sweater-covered hand, blinking sleepily. 

Katsuki reached over and held Izuku’s elbow, leading him over to the table. Inko rounded the table and sat at the other unoccupied chair. Bowls and utensils were passed out, and the group began the meal. Inko and Aizawa made small talk amongst themselves. They tried to pull the boys into the conversation, but realized that it’d be a fruitless endeavor. Katsuki was talking to Izuku in a low voice, the green-haired boy responding occasionally in an equally soft voice. They ate slowly, Katsuki making sure to match Izuku’s pace. 

Halfway through the meal, it was clear that Izuku was fading. His responses to Katsuki’s words came less and less, the words slurring slightly as they came out. Katsuki sighed softly and reached to grab Izuku’s seat, dragging the other closer. Izuku hummed wordlessly and laid his head against the blonde’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut. Inko sighed sadly at the sight. 

“I was hoping he would eat a bit more. He’s always struggled with eating when he isn’t feeling well, and chemo just saps his energy.” Izuku mumbled something intelligible against Katsuki’s shoulder. A soft and fond look tinged with sadness crossed his face. He set down his chopsticks and stood up, hauling Izuku up into his arms. 

“I’ll take him to bed, auntie.” He looked over at Aizawa. “Thanks for taking us home, sir.” He walked off, Izuku secure in his arms. Inko and Aizawa finished their meal, the room seeming dimmer without the two boys. They stood up. Aizawa gathered the dishes and brought them to the kitchen. Inko covered the two unfinished bowls with plastic wrap and pushed them into the refrigerator. She looked back at Aizawa for a moment, appraisingly. He felt distinctly like a specimen under a microscope. Inko nodded before rummaging in a cupboard, pulling out a massive Tupperware container. She spooned food into the container before shoving it into Aizawa’s hands. Before he could speak, she spoke. 

“Honestly, Mr. Aizawa, you’d be doing me a huge favor. There’s no way Izuku and I will be able to eat all of this food, especially because we’re having dinner with the Bakugos tomorrow.” Aizawa looked down at the container in his hands. Despite himself, he smiled down at it. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Midoriya. To be honest with you, Mic wanted me to ask for leftovers.” Inko laughed. 

“Well, I hope you two enjoy it.” Aizawa said his goodbyes and left, container in hand. 

Inko peeked her head in Izuku’s room, smiling at the sight. Katsuki and Izuku were both curled up on the bed, covers strewn haphazardly across them. Katsuki’s arm was flung around her son’s waist, his back to the door. Izuku had his head pressed against the blonde’s chest. Inko took a picture, making sure that the sound was turned off on her phone. She sent the picture to Mitsuki. 

Outside the apartment window, a purple-black cloud of mist dissipated, leaving a small figurine of a rabbit on the sill of the window.

Chapter Text

Katsuki woke up slowly. The light shining in from the window was a muted gray color, muffled in the headspace of early morning. The blonde felt an insubstantial weight against his chest. He looked down. Izuku’s head was pillowed against his chest, one scarred hand curled up into the fabric of his shirt. Katsuki smiled softly and stroked up and down the other boy’s back. 

Katsuki glanced around the room. The familiar posters seemed washed out in the early morning light. The room paled, an afterimage of what it used to be. Katsuki suddenly felt achingly alone. His arm, slung around Izuku’s waist, tightened. The hand that had been rubbing the other’s back trembled as it followed its chosen path. What would he do? The reality of his situation, of Izuku’s, was sinking deeper into his bones. Even now, the other’s breath hitched in sleep, tired lungs desperately fighting to stay afloat. The walls closed in slowly, looming expanses of faded paint pressing into the corners of his vision. 

What would the world be like without Izuku? The two had never known life without the other. Yet now, Katsuki was facing the looming possibility of having to struggle through life without the other half of his heart. 

Katsuki’s depressing reverie was interrupted by a muffled voice yelling jovially from the other room. The blonde let out a low, agonized groan. It was his mother. From the circle of his arms, half-lidded green eyes blinked slowly at him, hazy with sleep. Izuku’s hair was mussed, pressed flat on the side that had been resting against Katsuki’s heart. The boisterous voice echoing down the apartment hall faded as Izuku smiled at him. 

“Morning, Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice was rough and scratchy. He coughed, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. The green haired boy’s shoulders shook with the force of his coughing. He pressed against the blonde’s chest. Katsuki sat up, guiding Izuku’s body to follow his own. The blonde stroked the other’s back as Izuku’s back spasmed. The voices chiming from down the hall quietened, as if they could sense that something was amiss. Izuku was finally able to take a full breath. He sagged against Katsuki’s side, panting slightly. 

“G’morning, nerd.” Izuku smiled at him, tired eyes crinkling. Katsuki couldn’t help but grin back, even with the sinking pit in his stomach. 

The two began the task of getting ready for the day. Izuku had to sit down once, a wave of dizziness washing over him from standing up too quickly. Katsuki helped Izuku pull the soft fabric of a much-loved sweatshirt over his head, ruffling his curls once they reappeared. Teeth brushed and fuzzy Christmas socks donned, the boys walked down the hall to greet the day.

Mitsuki, Masaru, and Inko all sat at the Midoriyas’ faded couch. The blonde woman was in the middle of some outlandish tale, her arms flung wide and sloshing coffee from the mug in her hand. Masaru smiled at his wife, nodding at the appropriate parts. Inko sat in rapt attention, a sly grin on her face. She inched closer to her friend and interjected, drawing a jokingly outraged cry from the other. The two women were completely focused on each other, not noticing their sons entering the room. Masaru, seeing them, turned his head and smiled. Katsuki rolled his eyes, fighting off a fond smile. A wild Mitsuki’s hand appeared, latching onto her husband’s arm and drawing him into the conversation. Katsuki, his hand on Izuku’s waist, pulled the smaller boy into the kitchen. 

“Think they’ve eaten?” He asked, already rummaging through the cupboards and pulling out a large pan. Izuku shook his head.

“Auntie Mitsuki most likely caught Mom before she got to the kitchen.” Katsuki nodded. “What were you planning on making?” Katsuki hummed in thought. He could go with a more nutrient-dense, traditional breakfast. He leaned over so that he could see into the living room where the three adults sat. Despite their jovial nature, Katsuki could see the pinched lines around his father’s eyes, the enhanced sharpness of his mother’s features, the undeniable lines of tension snaking throughout Inko’s body. Aw hell , he thought, it’s the holidays. They need it. So Katsuki began to pull out the ingredients needed for chocolate chip pancakes. Izuku, seeing Katsuki stomp around the kitchen as quietly as he could while brandishing a bag of chocolate chips in one hand and a bag of flour in the other with wild abandon, snorted. Katsuki whipped around and pointed with the chocolate chip bag. 

“Sit the fuck down nerd. I don’t trust you near the stove.” Izuku huffed but said nothing, glad for the out that Katsuki had given him. Even with the rest that he had gotten the night previous, he could feel his energy waning the longer he stood. 

He began walking towards the living room but was stopped by a broad arm circling his waist. Izuku began to look back but was suddenly hoisted into one arm and plopped next to a bag of flour on the counter. The green haired boy blinked twice, then rolled his eyes as he fought off a grin. Katsuki huffed in approval and leaned in to press a kiss against his cheek before turning his attention to the bowl he was stirring. Izuku drifted in space, the conversation behind him muting as the sounds of sizzling pans filled his ears. Katsuki hummed softly under his breath, almost too quiet to be heard. 

He was brought back to reality by a tap on his cheek. Crimson eyes met his own, blinking slowly in the soft light of the kitchen. Wordlessly, Katsuki handed the bag of chocolate chips to Izuku. He felt the weight of the bag in his hand and, without breaking eye contact, dumped the whole thing into the batter Katsuki held. Katsuki blinked at him in disbelief.

“Zuku what the fuck.” Izuku snorted and began laughing. He tried to breathe, to calm down, but Katsuki’s dumbfounded expression kept sending him into peals of giggles. 

Katsuki pressed his lips together as his shoulders shook with the force of suppressing his own laughter. He rolled his eyes, fighting off a smile as he folded the batter over to incorporate the frankly alarming amount of chocolate chips. 

He poured the batter into the prepared pan as Izuku’s breaths finally calmed down. Content silence settled over the kitchen as Katsuki worked, the minutes only being counted by the growing stacks of cooked dough piling onto a plate conveniently placed to the other side of the stove.

The moment was broken as a wild Mitsuki Bakugou appeared. As if by magic, she materialized next to Katsuki’s elbow. Izuku jumped, the sudden guest startling him into a coughing fit. Katsuki shrieked, his arm jerking reflexively and flinging the pancake he was cooking into the air. The two watched in horror as the pancake soared, flipping delicately in the air as if suspended by aerial silks before it began its descent. Mitsuki calmly stepped out of the way of the incoming projectile while maintaining prolonged eye contact with her son. The pancake splattered on the floor, its funeral dirge echoing throughout the kitchen area. 

Izuku wheezed as he began laughing. Mitsuki blinked once.

“Is that any way to greet your mother, brat?” Mitsuki’s voice was strained, clearly trying to fight off a laugh. 

“Don’t fucking sneak up on me when I’m cooking, hag!” Katsuki’s voice shook, its usual bite missing as the adrenaline left his veins. Mitsuki snorted and ruffled her son’s hair, slinging her arm across his broad shoulders and bringing him into an awkward side hug. Katsuki rolled his eyes and poured the last of the batter onto the pan, patting her wrist with one hand. She dislodged and flipped towards Izuku, who by this time had finally gotten his laughter under control.

“Hi, Auntie Mitsuki,” Izuku said, his voice a bit rough from all of the laughing that he had done. Mitsuki smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corner. Katsuki hid his own grin by turning away as if looking for the spatulat that he was holding in his hand. 

“It’s so good to see you, Izuku.” She brought the green haired boy into a hug. He, gaining extra height from his perch on the counter, curled down into the embrace. She finally pulled away, patting his cheek gently as she went. Just as Katsuki finished the last pancake, she picked up the platter and walked off towards the table without so much as a by your leave. The two boys looked at each other. Izuku shrugged. Katsuki shrugged back and set the pan down in the sink, filling it with water and a bit of soap.

The blonde pulled Izuku off the counter and pressed him to his chest. Izuku closed his eyes and curled his hands into Katsuki’s shirt, closing his eyes. He felt a pair of warm lips press against his forehead before the other pulled away, reaching into the cupboard for the plates he knew were there. Izuku turned to get the silverware and the two left the kitchen.

Upon exiting, they saw that the three adults were still gathered on the sofa. The pancake stack sat on the coffee table, steam wafting from the top. Katsuki’s eyes widened as he remembered the pancake on the floor. Plates changed hands and the blonde ran back to the kitchen to clean. Izuku made his way over to the trio. Inko looked over at him, her eyes lighting up.

“Good morning, baby.”

“Mornin, mom.” Izuku set the plates down on the table before leaning over and hugging his mother. He heard shuffling behind him and turned to look. The Bakugous had crowded onto the couch, Masaru looking mildly guilty and Mitsuki looking thoroughly unrepentant. Izuku blinked as Mitsuki smiled a dangerous smile at him. 

“Sorry, sweet pea,” she crowed, “Looks like you and Katsuki will have to share the armchair. Katsuki had, at this time, reentered the room with a look of relief which quickly turned to an embarrassed flush as he heard his mother’s words. The two boys looked at each other, Izuku’s cheeks dusting to match Katsuki’s. Inko laughed outright, her eyes twinkling with mirth as she met her son’s gaze. The blonde ambled his way towards the aforementioned chair and sank down. Izuku pressed again into Inko’s arms, hiding his embarrassed smile, before pulling away and crossing over to the armchair. 

He sat down on Katsuki’s lap and threw his legs over one of the arms, as any self-respecting member of the alphabet mafia would. Katsuki flushed brighter as Izuku leaned over to snatch a blanket from nearby. Before he could throw it over the both of them, Katsuki pulled the fabric away from him and tucked it around the green haired boy’s shoulders. After ensuring that Izuku was properly burritoed, he wove his arms around the other and smirked at his parents. Izuku flushed and hid his face in the blanket as Mitsuki barked out a laugh. 

Plates stacked with confectionary were passed around and the two families began their meal. It was a bit of an awkward situation, Katsuki having to reach around Izuku with one arm to eat. Izuku tried to lean away from Katsuki to give him room to eat, but the blonde pulled him back. 

“Stay, nerd,” Katsuki mumbled, his voice low in the other’s ear. He pressed his lips briefly to the side of Izuku’s head and shoved a large bite of dough into his mouth. Izuku chuckled to himself and followed suit.

Izuku tried to eat as much as he could. He loved chocolate chip pancakes, and hated to waste such delicious cooking. Alas, he began to drift off halfway through his second. It’s Kacchan’s fault for being so warm and comfortable , he reasoned on the cusp of sleep. His head dropped softly onto the blonde’s broad shoulder as his eyes fluttered shut. Katsuki turned his head as he felt the slight pressure on his shoulder. He set his plate on the unoccupied arm of the chair and pulled Izuku’s from his sleep-slackened hands, setting it down onto the coffee table. Masaru looked over at the movement and tapped his wife on the shoulder. Mitsuki glanced over, her eyes softening at the sight. She turned back to Inko, her voice softening as she spoke. 

Katsuki tuned out the conversation as he pulled Izuku tighter towards his chest. He buried his head into the green curls, the soft scent of the other’s shampoo flooding his senses. Beneath one broad hands, Izuku’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. It was a comfort, a reminder that the green haired boy was still here, still safe, still alive. Every breath the other took was a treasure, one that Katsuki would hoard and protect until his own last breath left his lungs.

Chapter Text

Izuku’s nap ended up lasting until dinner. Katsuki, eager for the chance to avoid social interaction and mourning the loss of the other’s company, volunteered to run some last minute errands for Inko and his parents. He slipped into Izuku’s room and planted a kiss to the sleeping boy’s forehead before ladening himself with winter gear and reusable shopping bags. Tucking the fabric into the coat pocket, he yelled noncommittally over his shoulder as he slammed the door closed, the action noticeably gentler than it had been in the past. He hunched his back and trekked off into the cold winter night. 

He had been outside in the snow just last night, but didn’t take the time to appreciate the sight. He had been all too happy to be preoccupied with Izuku during the trip from UA. Alone in the quickly dimming twilight, Katsuki watched in reluctant fascination as the evening sun sprawled against the drifts of snow banks and glanced off of stray flakes. The blonde walked within a pool of molten gold, deep violet fingers carving their way through the shining waves. 

The lights of the grocery store seemed dim in comparison. The blonde was greeted by a blast of warm air and the harshness of fluorescence. Kicking off the snow clinging to his boots, Katsuki stepped into the new world in front of him. As he walked through the aisles, he felt a sense of unease, as if he wasn’t really there. Soft 80’s pop music whispered through the speakers as items left shelves and found their home in his hands. Checking out as quickly as possible, Katsuki abandoned the place and began the journey back. Night had truly fallen by then. 

The snow around him seemed harsher now that it was illuminated by street lamps. It still held its ethereal silence, but seemed more intent on keeping its secrets. Katsuki quickened his pace. 

A block away from the store, Katsuki had the distinct feeling that someone was watching him. His head snapped around, crimson eyes narrowing in the half-light. There wasn’t a soul around. He was completely and utterly alone. He stood next to an alleyway. The mouth loomed, a cavern of ultimate darkness. In the depths, Katsuki could swear that there was a flash of deep purple. His skull buzzed with adrenaline. An errant foot inched towards the entrance to the alley before Katsuki shook himself. Nothing good could be waiting in that alleyway for him. If that call turned out to be a villain, no one would know where he was or who had him. His parents were at Inko’s house. The drinks had started flowing shortly after lunch. The only one who would truly notice his absence in time would be Izuku, who wasn’t even awake to know that he had left. 

Izuku. 

At that moment, his soul yearned for its other half. Had the green haired boy been with him - been well - the two would have nodded and investigated and possibly broken bones but come out victorious. But Izuku wasn’t there and he couldn’t fight, not now. Katsuki’s job wasn’t to wander into danger on the off chance that the bump in the night turned out to be a true nightmare. No. His place was at Izuku’s side, filling what could be his last days with love and support and affection.

Katsuki turned away from the alleyway and walked quickly, soon speeding up into a run until he reached the familiar lamppost outside of the Midoriyas’ apartment complex. He leaned against the worn metal, his chest heaving. As he felt his heart settle into a more sustainable rhythm, Katsuki’s breaths calmed and he began the climb up to the Midoriyas’ apartment. He didn’t notice the vestiges of purple smoke slowly dissolving just out of his line of sight. 

As Katsuki entered the apartment, the rowdy cheers of drunken adults reached him. He toed off his boots and began the process of unwinding the long scarf from around his neck. Looking more closely at the fabric, Katsuki realized that it was Izuku’s scarf that he was wearing, not his own. The vibrant reds, blues, and yellows still stood proud as ever, but seemed faded from time and use. He could tell that it was a well-loved scarf. If nothing else, it was the only one that Katsuki ever saw Izuku use. The knitted fabric slid through his fingers as he pulled it off and looped it over a hook. Worn, threadbare patches slid against the calloused pads of his fingers, their sensation muted through the toughened skin. 

Katsuki stepped through the hall and into the room, the voices of his family growing louder as he neared them. He made a quick detour into the Midoriyas’ kitchen to drop off his purchase and leaned against the wall as he took in the sight of their parents without the weight of the world on their shoulders. 

The group was sprawled across the furniture. His mother had a glass of wine in hand and gesticulated wildly with it as she regaled the group with a story that made less sense the more that she spoke. Inko leaned against her shoulder, face flushed from the alcohol in her system. Inko had never been a heavy drinker, so keeping up with the Bakugous was testing the limit of her lightweight self. Masaru sat in the chair he had been in in the morning, one leg tossed over the arm of the chair. His head was pillowed against his hand as he grinned at his wife, expression soft. Soft music was playing from the speakers of a laptop, placed noticeably out of the reach of the drunken adults. Katsuki felt the shard of ice in his heart that had followed him home from the alleyway melt as he took in the sight. 

Thin arms wound around his waist from the back. Katsuki jolted and turned his head to look over his shoulder. Wild green curls were pressed against his back before Izuku tilted his head up, a grin on his face. 

“Welcome home, Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice was soft, almost drowned by the racket in front of the two. Katsuki’s world shrunk until it was just the two of them, standing in their own little infinity. The blonde turned around slowly. Izuku’s arms shifted to allow the movement. Without warning, he lifted the other boy into his arms. Izuku squawked as Katsuki spun around. Laughter filled the space between them. 

“I’m back, Zuku.”

The rest of the Christmas party was highly entertaining for the two boys. If you’ve ever been in the unique position of being the only sober one at a family party in which all of your relatives - including your parents - are, for lack of a better word, absolutely shitfaced, you’ve experienced the oft-cringey hilarity of usually such straight-laced people (and, if you’re smart, gotten ample amounts of blackmail). 

As the two boys entered the living room, Mitsuki let out a loud whoop, throwing her arms in the air. Inko, as drunk as she was, threw her hands up with her friend, then began cheering loudly as she saw her son. Masaru was halfway between sleep and awakeness, and did some weird amalgamation of jazz hands. It was a hilarious sight, considering the man was hanging his head off the other side of the chair he was sitting on. His jazz hands were drooping to the floor. But still they jazzed. 

Katsuki rolled his eyes, fighting off a grin. Izuku, snickering, schooled his face into one of sincere attentiveness as his mother babbled a sentence that made absolutely no sense to anyone but her. Mitsuki nodded along sagely, before barking out another laugh. 

The boys contented themselves with watching their parents drunken antics. Katsuki sank down into a chair, pulling the green-haired boy down onto his lap. Izuku curled up, nuzzling into the broad chest behind him. The blonde reached over and threw a blanket over the other. It was almost the same scene as it had been in the morning, albeit with more noise and less coherency. The moments blended into each other. The boys talked quietly amongst themselves as Mitsuki pulled Inko into a very off-key rendition of Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You. Katsuki filmed it unabashedly. Izuku was laughing too hard to admonish him. 

As the night grew darker, Katsuki noticed the three’s movements growing languid and droopy. Masaru’s eyes kept falling shut then snapping open. Inko leaned more heavily into her friend’s side. Mitsuki’s gestures were smaller, less power put into the movements. Katsuki and Izuku turned towards each other.

“I guess you’re all staying the night then,” Izuku said, a small smile in his voice. Katsuki shrugged, before pressing his forehead briefly into the other’s shoulder. The green haired boy slid off of his lap and, taking a moment to reorient himself with being fully upright, approached the lethargic group. 

“Okay, guys. Let’s get you to bed.” Protests rang out through the group. Masaru boo’ed. Izuku fought to keep the laughter out of his voice. “I know you’re having fun, but won’t it be better if you’re in comfy clothes?” Mitsuki paused, contemplating as seriously as she could, then nodded, turning to Inko and her husband. The other two joined her. Katsuki snorted behind him. Izuku turned around.

“Kacchan, I’ll get my mom settled. Could you help Auntie Mitsuki and Uncle Masaru?”

“Sure nerd.” Izuku mumbled something under his breath, then looked back up.

“I think we have some clothes that could fit him. Dad’s old stuff.” Katsuki nodded, trying to hide the growing frown on his face. “Auntie Mitsuki can probably borrow something of Mom’s.” The plan in motion, the two boys began getting their respective parents ready for bed. It took some cajoling for Izuku to get Inko ready, the woman pouting as she was handed pajamas. Mitsuki was quite docile throughout the whole procedure, leaning on her son as she brushed her teeth. Masaru was much the same, but frowned when he was handed sleepwear. 

“This ‘sashi’s?” The man questioned, holding the shirt up and listing to the side. Katsuki righted him and helped the man sit down so he could change without concentrating on standing up.

“Yeah. Don’t know why, though.” Katsuki fought to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Masaru patted his son’s shoulder and leaned in. “I’ll fight ‘im ‘f I ever see ‘im again.” Katsuki snorted.

“Sure, dad.” 

The trio of parents were shuffled off to Inko’s room and tucked in like children. Inko kissed her son on the cheek and flopped an arm around an errant Bakugou. Katsuki flipped the light off as they left, shutting the door as quietly as he could. The boys walked back out into the living room. Izuku turned to him suddenly. His hands clasped together, fidgeting. He looked nervous.

“Zuku? You good?” The green haired boy nodded, then took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for battle. He extended one delicate, scarred hand and bowed slightly, a wobbly smile on his face. 

“Would you like to dance with me, Kacchan?” Katsuki was putty in the other boy’s hands. With a soft grin, his own hand came up to cradle Izuku’s, his other pulling the boy in by the waist. The music, still softly playing, floated around their space as they swayed together. Izuku’s head was pillowed on Katsuki’s shoulder, his small puffs of breath brushing gently against the other’s skin. Katsuki spun them around and shifted his hands, one coming up to cradle the other’s neck as he dipped the other. Izuku laughed in his arms. 

They moved slowly, soft plinks of piano keys matching the rhythm Izuku drummed into Katsuki’s hand. The blonde felt a tug in his heart, the smoldering of a fire racing up his throat and blazing behind his eyes. Slowly, Izuku reached up and cupped Katsuki’s cheek. 

“You’re crying, Kacchan.”

“Shut up, nerd, no I’m not. It’s…allergies.” Izuku huffed a laugh to himself, then pulled his hand away. Katsuki mourned the loss. The green haired boy pulled him towards the worn, familiar couch and the two sank down. 

“You’re allowed to cry, Kacchan. You’ve been so strong for me for so long.” Izuku threw his legs across the other’s lap and pulled Katsuki’s body closer to his own. Katsuki shook his head at the words, his face screwed up with the effort of holding back his tears. Izuku’s hand brushed gently through the spiky wisps of his hair. He pulled the other down to press his face against Izuku’s neck. Without his consent, hot tears trickled down from his eyes as his shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. He pressed Izuku closer to his chest, broad hands shaking as they clung to the lifeline in front of him. Izuku hummed softly along to the radio in the background, one hand stroking up and down Katsuki’s back and the other carding through his hair. 

Eventually Katsuki was all cried out. His breaths steadied and he loosened his grip on the other. Katsuki pulled back. Izuku grinned at him, eyes red and face wet. Immediately, Katsuki felt guilt shoot through his heart. Who was he to cry when Izuku was the one suffering? As if hearing his thoughts, the other boy frowned. He reached forward and brushed his hand down the other’s cheek. 

“You’re being affected by this too, Kacchan. It’s not fair to yourself. Please don’t feel bad for being upset.” Katsuki’s heart was squeezed in a vice. How could someone be so understanding? See through all his defenses and shatter them so completely?

“Gods, Izuku,” Katuski’s voice was rough, “I don’t fucking deserve you.” 

“It’s not about deserving, Kaccan. If it was about that, I’d be the one severely lacking. But every moment you spend by my side, every time you help me to the bathroom when I’m sick or sit with me when I can’t sleep. Every time that you show me you care. That’s what really matters. Not deserving or atoning. Just staying with me.” Izuku’s voice reverberated against the bones of his ribcage. Katskui pulled the other boy to his chest, burying his head in the viridian nest of curls. He felt the steady rise and fall of the other boy’s chest against his broad hand and thought distantly that this was where he wanted to stay forever. 

A shift from the boy he was holding caused Katsuki to look down. Izuku, with his chin pressed to Katsuki’s chest, looked up at him with burning green eyes. 

“You okay, nerd?” Katsuki asked, his voice wavering at the end. Izuku looked away, and Katsuki could see that the tips of his ears were tinged pink. Izuku’s voice was unsteady as he spoke.

“Can I- can I k-kiss you?” Katsuki’s heart was melting in Izuku’s hands. The blonde grinned and leaned forwards. 

“Yes,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against Izuku’s. Their lips met, chapped and bitten skin meeting smooth. Katsuki had one hand wrapped around Izuku’s waist, and the other cupping the back of his neck, supporting his head. Izuku’s hands held Katsuki’s face, his thumb brushing gently against the skin of Katsuki’s cheekbone. It was a soft, slow kiss, unhurried and undemanding. Katsuki felt a jolt of electricity on his lips, but decided to ignore it. They pulled away from each other just enough so that their foreheads could touch again. Katsuki took one of Izuku’s delicate, scarred hands in his own - large and clumsy and destructive - and pressed his lips to the knuckles. Izuku’s face was reddening steadily, but he had a bright grin on his face. 

“I love you, Izuku.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Chapter Text

When Izuku woke up in the morning, he could feel the aftermath of what he had done the night before. The flames of One for All that burned so bright within him dwindled to embers. But he could feel the warmth of the flames from where he lay next to Katsuki. The transfer was hard on him, for multiple reasons. Kissing Katsuki was as easy as breathing (or as easy as breathing should be) for him. The hard part was focusing on thinking about the transfer instead of being enveloped completely in the other’s warmth. But now that One for All was just a vestige for him, he realized how hard the quirk had worked to keep him alive.

Izuku felt a heaviness to his chest, liquid death pooling little by little. His bones felt heavy and brittle in equal measure. What little energy he had managed to wrest from his long bouts of napping over the past few weeks withered away like a spark in the night. In the simplest of terms, Izuku felt like shit. But he knew that it was for the best. One for All couldn’t complete its mission in such a body as his. 

“Even if you decide to give us up, we will always be with you, Izuku.” The vestiges had visited him last night after he and Katsuki had gone to sleep. Izuku sat in the center of what quickly became a cuddle pile. Banjo was a blubbering mess, demanding the rights to cuddling Izuku and using the green haired boy like some kind of oversized teddy bear. They all - Izuku included - thought that it was hilarious and a tad adorable. It reminded Izuku of Uraraka’s description of Gunhead, or Asui’s description of Selkie. 

Nana had ruffled his hair, her eyes misty. En was vehemently denying the tear tracks running down his face. Yoichi laughed as Higake challenged Banjo to a duel for the right to cuddle Izuku. It was a warm and bittersweet time, all of the vestiges doing their best to remind Izuku that they loved him and that he wasn’t alone, even though he had given One for All to Katsuki. It almost reminded him of being with the blonde, safe and warm and protected and adored. 

Eventually morning came, and with it the need to wake up and face the day. Izuku explained - at Yoichi’s prompting - how he and his family would be celebrating. Banjo paused, then out of nowhere produced a party hat and a noisemaker, putting it on with the utmost solemnity. The hat was comically small on the large man. In the most serious voice he could muster, he spoke.

“It’s time to fuckin party.” The other vestiges, who had been holding back their reaction , broke down into peals of laughter. Izuku snorted and patted the large man on the shoulder.

Izuku, as he felt the weight of wakefulness descend over him, turned to his predecessors. 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice wobbly.

Izuku’s eyes opened and red filled his vision. Katsuki’s eyes were half-lidded in the early morning light. Ash blonde wisps of hair brushed gently against his forehead. Izuku felt something large and warm brush down his cheek, and realized it was the other’s hand.

“What’s with the tears, nerd?” Katsuki’s voice was gruff and deep. Izuku smiled.

“Nothing, Kacchan. Just a dream.” The blonde frowned but said nothing, opting instead to press his lips against the other’s forehead. They pulled away from each other - Katsuki sitting up to go about his morning routine, and Izuku to sink back down onto the pillow. 

It seemed that Katsuki and Izuku were the first ones awake. They shuffled into the living room to find it devoid of adults. A quick peek into Inko’s bedroom revealed them all squished together into a cuddle pile, Inko sandwiched between the two Bakugous. Izuku grinned at the sight. Katsuki snapped a photo, smirking. They backed away from the door, making sure to close it gently enough to not make any sound, before proceeding to the kitchen. 

Like they had done the day before, they began to get breakfast ready. Katsuki swept Izuku into his arms and, pressing a small kiss to his forehead, deposited the other onto the countertop. Izuku sagged into the embrace, his head pillowed on Katsuki’s shoulder. One hand came up and fisted weakly in the blonde’s shirt. Katsuki tucked the other boy’s head closer into the juncture between his neck and his shoulder, one broad hand fiddling gently through the tousled green hair. 

Katsuki wasn’t sure what had happened, but it seemed that all of Izuku’s energy from the night before had evaporated. His steps were heavier, as if gravity had increased its hold on the green-haired boy. His hands had shaken as he reached for his toothbrush. The action of walking into the kitchen, even with Katsuki by his side, had tired the boy out almost completely. He turned to flick the stove top knob down and pulled the other boy closer so that Katsuki could take more of Izuku’s weight. The green haired boy let out a shuddering breath, his shoulders trembling slightly.

Katsuki frowned. Was it just a random fluctuation of energy, he wondered, or was there some cause? His hand cradled the other boy’s neck. Izuku’s head pressed into the touch as he pulled away to face Katsuki. He blinked, his eyes half-lidded and hazy with sleep. He was open and trusting, vulnerable and breakable. Katsuki felt a foreign rush of icy fear trickle down his spine. He pressed the back of his unoccupied hand to Izuku’s forehead. The green haired boy’s skin was cool to the touch, almost cold. Izuku closed his eyes again, melting into the embrace. 

“Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice was a whisper, barely audible over the sounds of the kitchen. The blonde shifted his hand.

“You’re fucking freezing, nerd. Did you sleep in a damn snow drift or something?” Izuku’s laugh was as soft as his voice, tinged with an exhaustion that Katsuki recognized more and more. He made an executive decision.

Katsuki swept Izuku into his arms and strode to the living room, dropping the other onto the couch gently. Izuku blinked, dazed by the sudden change in location before feeling something large, soft, and fluffy smack into his face. Izuku reached up to take what felt like a blanket away from his eyes before another fluffy something was thrown on him. This happened two more times before the green haired boy was able to fight his way up to the top of the mountain of blankets Katsuki had covered him in. He shot a weak glare towards the blonde who rolled his eyes and walked away. Izuku huffed, annoyed, but stayed where he had been placed.

The seeping weariness of his bones melted slowly into the threadbare fabric of the couch. He sank down into the softness, feeling a pressure on his hip. One hand shifted the blanket cocoon so that a portion laid between him and the couch. The pressure dissipated, and with it, Izuku’s remaining energy. His eyes fluttered shut as he melted. 

Gentle taps on his cheek roused him from his sleep. Izuku peeled open the unwilling flesh of his eyelids and came face to face with twin pinpricks of crimson, gently burning coals suspended in a halo of ash. Katsuki’s face pulled into a grin as Izuku wrinkled his nose before shoving his hand into the mound of blankets. The freckled boy squawked before he felt a burning warmth wrap around the ice that his poor hands had become. The warmth - that Izuku came to realize was Katsuki’s hand - pulled his hand out of its blanket shelter and, before the cold could encroach again, molded his hands around a squishy warmth. It was a mini hot water bottle, emblazoned with All Might’s grinning face. 

Izuku remembered his mother coming home with it for the first time. It was his second day home after being discharged from the hospital. He had spent the night huddled under almost every blanket in the house. Izuku’s mother had even pulled him into her arms, despite the mountain of blankets and the summer weather. Inko had insisted on sleeping in Izuku’s room for the first few weeks after he had been discharged. Whether it was for her peace of mind or his benefit, Izuku remembered drifting between sleeping and wakefulness, and always coming up to see his mother near his side. 

After spending the night feeling her son shiver in her arms underneath a mountain of blankets, Inko had gone to the nearby store in search of a solution. Mitsuki, shopping at the same time and having had her own warming supplies destroyed, had suggested the hot water bottle heater. 

The blonde woman pulled her friend close as she teared up. Mitsuki reached down for what she was looking for and, seeing what was next to it, laughed and grabbed it as well. The blonde woman had led Inko through the store, keeping her distracted while getting what supplies she needed and handing them off to Masaru to take to the register. Only once they had left the store together did Inko realize what the Bakugous had done. The waterworks truly began rolling then, the two women pulling in for a hug before they all departed. Once she arrived home, Inko began putting the purchases away. She pulled out the hot water bottle that Mitsuki had slipped her and laughed at seeing the broad grin of the Number One Hero.

Truth be told, Mitsuki’s own hot water bottle had only gotten destroyed because Katsuki had gotten a little too excited. He had heard that Izuku was coming home and, remembering how cold his friend had always seemed to be, tried to gather supplies to bring him. Unfortunately, he had been caught in the act and exploded the bottle in surprise and embarrassment. 

He smiled down at the sight, feeling the nostalgia tug at his stomach. His eyes met Katsuki. The blonde’s tight expression softened into something gentler, the lines of his face easing as Iuzku responded to him. The blonde leaned over and pressed his lips to Izuku’s forehead once more before flopping onto the blanket mountain. Izuku let out a laugh, loud and boisterous and more full of unfettered happiness than Katsuki had heard in a long time. Despite himself, the blonde found himself grinning.

The two ate quietly, Katsuki flopped across the span of the couch and the burritoed Izuku acting as his pillow. It was a quiet moment, soft and tender and tinged with a sad sort of longing. And it was thoroughly ruined by a loud groan accompanied by the banging of a door. The two jumped at the sound, turning to see what could be counted at the most pathetic sight they had ever seen.

The trio of adults had finally emerged, sober and only somewhat willing to face the day. Masaru seemed to have gotten the worst of the post-partying regret. He was slung loosely over the other two’s shoulders. His glasses were nowhere to be found and his borrowed sleep shirt was rumpled. Mitsuki laughed next to him, fresh-faced and seeming as if she hadn’t touched a drop last night. Inko was squinting a bit at the brightness of the morning, but seemed otherwise alright. Katsuki shifted so the two could deposit Masaru on the couch and he sank into the cushions with a pitiable groan. Katsuki began turning red with the force of holding back his laughter. Izuku opted to bury his head into his blanket nest to hide his grin. 

The two mothers returned, drinks with questionable contents in hand. They began chatting, Masaru trying to bury himself further into the cushions. Izuku lifted his feet and draped them over Katsuki’s lap. 

The morning was quiet compared to the previous day. Inko was buried in a pile of Bakugou. Izuku curled closer to Katsuki, until the blonde rolled his eyes and pulled the other to sit on his lap. The nest of green hair fell against his shoulder. Izuku breathed softly, his inhales sounding slightly raspy. Katsuki stroked his back with one large hand. Time moved in syrup, slow and languid, each moment blurring into the next in a scene of sepia-tinged nostalgia.

The two families exchanged their gifts in the cool light of the silently snowing morning. Flakes drifted down, weightless and ephemeral, as Izuku handed out wrapped packages filled with the connection of one heart to another. Mitsuki actually shed a tear when she received her gift. 

Izuku handed Katsuki his. With shaky hands, he slit the clumsily taped wrapping paper and peeled it away. Inside was a sight that made Katsuki’s heart melt. His gift was a framed picture of the two of them, twin charms of their hero logos dangling from the side. The picture was of them as children, arms wound around each other and bright grins stretched on their faces. Katsuki felt his eyes grow damp. He blinked hard. Looking up at Izuku, Katsuki smiled shakily.

“Thanks, nerd. I love it.” Katsuki’s voice broke halfway through. He surged forward and pulled the other boy into his arms, careful to press the framed photo against Izuku’s back so as not to hurt him. Izuku’s hands shook as they clung to Katsuki’s shirt, gnarled hands fisting in the soft material. 

Katsuki pulled back so that their foreheads just brushed each other. The blonde could feel the dampness in his eyes, but ignored it. Izuku blinked at him, viridian eyes half-lidded. 

“Can’t give you yours yet. I wanna wait until they’re gone.” Katsuki’s voice was a whisper. Izuku grinned at him. They shifted, Izuku’s head pillowed on Katsuki’s shoulder, watching the festivities around them. 

Around noon, the Bakugous realized that they needed something from their house. Inko offered to go with them. Izuku suspected that they didn’t actually need anything, but didn’t say so. Inko leaned over and squished their cheeks together before they left, her eyes tearing at the corners. A soft sort of silence settled over the apartment, the radio’s crooning distant and gentle. Katsuki stood up.

“I’ll be right back, nerd.” His footsteps departed before a door opened and closed. Izuku sighed. He wondered if he should tell Katsuki about One for All. After all, it felt almost selfish of him to give it away without even asking Katsuki’s consent. But, he rationalized, the blonde would never have accepted it otherwise. Still, Katsuki needed to know. Izuku decided that he would tell the blonde the following day. Katsuki’s footsteps returned as he appeared in the room looking down at the small wrapped box in his hand. 

“Need to explain this, Zuku.” The blonde hesitated. “This ain’t anything more than a promise, alright? You don’t have to accept it, but I hope that you do. I promised to give you something like this a long time ago, and I thought today would be as good a day as any.” Katsuki looked up. There was uncertainty in his eyes, a fearful kind of hesitancy. Izuku tilted his head, confused. Why would this gift be one that would cause Katsuki so much stress. The blonde crossed the living room area and knelt down so that he sat on his heels, one hand resting on Izuku’s knee. With the other, he presented the small box. With shaking hands, Izuku took it, fumbling with the smooth paper. His hands were shaking so much that Katsuki cupped his hands under Izuku’s to steady them.

“Thanks, Kacchan.” The blonde grunted, his eyes focused on Izuku. Izuku peeled the paper back, accidentally ripping it when the tape caught on the side. He looked up in fear. “I’m sorry, Kacchan!”

“Don’t apologize, nerd. ‘S just paper.” Izuku huffed a small laugh. Finally peeling the last bit of paper Izuku saw that he held a small jewelry box. He looked up at Katsuki. The blonde’s eyes were wide, his expression unsure. With trembling hands, he opened the lid.

Oh.

It was a ring. 

It was a simple band, tungsten edged with silver. The silver banding dipped and crossed in the middle to form two star shapes. Nestled within the metal stars were a small emerald and a small ruby. Wisdom and protection. Izuku looked up at Katsuki, eyes watering. The blonde’s own eyes looked suspiciously wet. 

“Kacchan, is this..”

“Yeah.”

“Are…are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Izuku,” Katsuki’s hand came up and cupped the other’s cheek. His voice was soft and wet, but he smiled. “It’s always been you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to understand.” Izuku choked on a sob. 

“Bu-but Kacchan, I don’t even know if I’ll make i-”

“Izuku, you’re it for me. I don’t give a fuck if I only get to love you for even one more day. But I want to spend the rest of my life with you, however long that may fucking be. It’s you.” 

Izuku sobbed, throwing his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders and burying his head into the crook of the other’s neck. Katsuki’s broad, warm hand trailed up and down his back, his eyes burning. Katsuki’s voice was low in his ear, soft and hesitant.

“So…what do you say?”

“Yes. Yes, Kacchan.” Izuku pulled his head away from Katsuki’s shoulder. His hands came up to cradle the blonde’s face. Katsuki’s eyes were wet, rimmed red. But he grinned. Izuku smiled back. 

“Can I kiss you?” Katsuki asked, his voice a whisper. Izuku answered by leaning forward and pressing their lips together. Katsuki’s hand came up and pushed through his hair, cradling his neck. Izuku felt warmth burst through his chest, dripping sunspots burning on his lungs. It wasn’t the thrumming heat of One for All. Instead it was the burning devotion the two felt for each other. 

Finally they pulled away. Katsuki held Izuku’s shaking hand and slid the ring onto it, pressing his lips to the scarred knuckles. Izuku laughed. 

Just then Mitsuki, Masaru, and Inko burst through the doors, matching expressions of panic marring their features. Seeing the boys, Inko sagged against Masaru’s side, relieved tears falling down her cheeks.

“What’s going on?” Izuku’s voice was rough, the burning joy icing over to cold fear. Mitsuki strode forwards, pulling the two boys into her arms. 

“Thank fuck you two are alright.” Just then, Katsuki’s phone began buzzing nonstop, the screen flashing text messages. Inko’s phone rang and she fumbled to pick it up. Mitsuki looked between them. Just then, the soft music of the radio was interrupted by the sound of an emergency broadcast. The eerie echoing of the robotic words from the loudspeakers outside blurred into the frantic voice on the radio.

“The villain, All For One, has escaped from Tartarus prison. Japan has been declared to be in a state of emergency. I repeat, the villain, All For One, has escaped from Tartarus prison.”

Chapter Text

The light and cheery atmosphere of the earlier morning had completely dissipated. It was replaced with a gnawing dread, sitting heavy and silent in the pit of everyone’s stomach. The joy that had been felt only moments prior had been snuffed out. 

It was silently decided that the Bakugous would stay the night. It turns out that Katsuki had asked the adults to leave for a short while so that he could talk to Izuku privately. They hadn’t lied when they said that they were heading to the Bakugou residence. When the news hit, they froze for a moment before scrambling round the house, packing bags to take over to the Midoriyas. When questioned, Mitsuki admitted that she hadn’t considered bringing the Midoriyas over, despite the larger size of their house in comparison to the Midoriyas’ apartment. Masaru had brought up the point that too much movement might not be good for Izuku’s health, especially now that the stress of the news had hit them. Katsuki had conceded with a sigh before sullenly leaning over to tap Izuku on the shoulder.

The boy in question was slowly drifting off on the couch, valiantly trying to keep himself awake. Katsuki sighed. 

“C’mon, nerd. Couch ain’t a bed.” Izuku slurred something unintelligible before gesturing vaguely towards them. Katsuki shook his head, striding over and swinging the boy up into his arms. Izuku mumbled something, his eyelids fluttering. Katsuki shushed him softly and turned to his parents before nodding and proceeding down the hallway.

Katsuki helped Izuku get back into his bed and pulled the covers up over the frail body. He turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand circling around his wrist. He looked down. Izuku looked up at him, sleepy and trusting. He blinked half-lidded eyes before his head fell further into the pillow. The sleeve of his sweatshirt fell down his wrist, exposing the bony appendage and the pale blue of Izuku’s veins. One hand was clenched in the covers, shaking slightly. He looked so fragile and vulnerable. The sight tugged at Katsuki’s heart, ripping through any defense he might have had. 

“What do you need, nerd?” Katsuki’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“...Stay?” Izuku’s voice was almost inaudible. It cracked halfway through.

“Of course.” Katsuki pulled the cover up and slid in next to the other boy. Izuku snuggled closer to his chest, his hand leaving the cover to fist in the material of his shirt. Katsuki kissed his forehead as his eyelids fluttered shut.

“Go to sleep, baby. Kacchan’ll protect you.” 

Once Izuku’s breaths had evened out, Katsuki pulled out his phone. Luckily, Izuku had fallen asleep with the blinds open, so the light of his phone didn’t disturb the other’s rest. He opened the class group chat.

Class 1💅

Sonic: I’m sure that everyone has heard the news about All for One’s escape. Please respond to this message with your status and general location so that I can assure that you are safe and, if need be, we have the resources to come help you.

Sky Mama: Thank you, Iida. I hope everyone’s doing alright, considering the news. Please message me if you need anything. 

Sky Mama: I am at my parent’s house. We are having tea.

Les Mis: I am here, mes amis. With maman and papa.

Gay-lien Queen: I’m here, babes! With my parents right now.

Kermit Kinnie: Ribbit. 

Kermit Kinnie: With my family right now. My parents are more stressed than my siblings.

Kirby: omg, tsu

Kirby: I’m here with my mom and dad! Hope everyone’s doing well!

Furry: I’m here! With my family!!

Pikachu: WHATS POPPIN

Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson: dont mind me just watchin

Pikachu: we’re here! Kiri’s family and mine decided to have a joint Christmas

Furry: That sounds nice!

Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson: yeah its been pretty fun up until now

Furry: …there is that oof

Snow White but from Shrek 2: ✌️

Pikachu: omg

Metformin: here with my family! We’re baking some cookies to deal

Kirby: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Metformin: as soon as i figure out how to send cookies via text, its over for u hoes

Kirby: SATOU OMG ALKFJEOIFNDJ

Metformin: 🥺✌️

Octussy: with my family

Pikachu: your name still sends me to the stratosphere

Octussy: good

Pete Wentz: mom and dad are playing some music to destress

Pete Wentz: sdkfwoef.mov

Sky Mama: Amazing!

Pete Wentz: sdlkfnwaeofinwefjk

Selena: everyone’s hungover so im making toast and heating up leftover tamales

Selena: this is an expected finding after a family party dont worry

Vantablack: dark shadow and i are finding revelry in the dark

Vantablack:this isdarkshoadowo; we’re makign cookieszzz

Discount Zuko: hello

Discount Zuko: shoto here

Pikachu: OH MY GOD TODOROKI LDFKEOSFHJOIESFLK

Discount Zuko: what

Pikachu: sdklfwqejoifnsdkljfuwoeir

Discount Zuko:...im going to ignore that

Discount Zuko: natsuo and i are making cookies to take to fuyumi and our mother

Discount Zuko: theres only been one fire so weve been improving

Kirby: good job todoroki

Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson: yeah todobro you go!!!!

The NSA agent: im here with my parents!!

Furry: nice to see you hagakure!

The NSA agent: you too ojiro!!

Grapist: hey

Grapist: u up?

Kirby: begone THOT

Sonic: … moving on

Sonic: Is that everyone?

Discount Zuko: no. bakugou and midoriya havent checked in

Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson: oh no!

Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson: @bakubro

Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson: @bakubro

Kirby: deku? You there?

Sonic: it is quite unlike them to respond

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: the fuck do you want extras

Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson: BAKUBRO 

Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson: YOURE ALRIGHT

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: i will blow you to the stratosphere do not test me

Pikachu: well thats on you for worrying us

Sonic: yes

Sonic: it’s quite unlike you, bakugou

Sonic: well, bakugou’s checked in. now all we’re waiting on is midoriya

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: hes fine

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: fell asleep and i was taking him to his room

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: were both at deku’s house in case you decided to fucking stalk him

Gay-lien Queen: say hi to izu-babe for us please blasty!!

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: fuck off

Katsuki closed out of the conversation, seeing a notification from Aizawa. He opened it, unsure of what to expect. 

Ambien Man: ive sponken to midoriyas mother so we kno u and ur family r staying over there

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: sponken

Ambien Man: im going to expel u one of these dkayt

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: dkayt

Ambien Man: anyways stay safe and try to keep midoriya indoors we have intel that suggests that afo has taken an interest in midoriya so be on ur guard

Ambien Man: wereorganizing pro hero patrols around their apartment for extra safety

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: are u good

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: also thanks ill let auntie inko know

Ambien Man: >:( u try typing witha wilderi onurlap

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: oof

Sparky Sparky Boom Man:  thanks aizawa

Ambien Man: hope u enjoy ur time off tell midoriya hi fomreme

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: fomreme

Ambien Man: bruh

Snickering, Katsuki exited out of the conversation and locked his phone. He rolled over to face the boy in his arms. Izuku’s hair was spread across his pillow, one cheek squished into the fabric. A thin line of drool trickled out of his mouth. Katsuki snorted, before feeling the weight of Aizawa’s words hit him.

All For One knew about Izuku. He had an interest in Izuku. What could he do? What could anyone do, really? This was a man so powerful that All Might almost died fighting him. He brushed an errant lock of hair away from Izuku’s forehead. 

“He’ll have to kill me before I let him even lay a hand on you, Zuku.” Katsuki whispered into his hair. The soft light of the evening washed throughout the room as Katsuki’s eyelids fluttered shut. They would be safe. Katsuki would make sure of it. 

Chapter Text

The apartment was almost silent in the darkness of the late night. There were two bedrooms, both with the doors open. The view into them was blocked at the edges by the swirling of purple mist, but the figures in the room were clear as day.

Three people lay in one of the beds, the smallest sandwiched between the two. One of the occupants, the brown haired man, had fallen asleep sitting up, his body turned so that it faced the other room. Doubtless, he had been keeping an eye on the occupants of that room. They weren’t important. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was the precious gift in the other room. 

He had been sure to send his subordinate to observe and report, to plant his monitoring device. None had been the wiser, and for that he was grateful. His ‘breakout’ to freedom had already caused quite a stir, and he knew that there were droves of so-called heroes prowling the streets waiting to be used as cannon fodder against him. Despite himself, he let out a small laugh.

They hadn’t been able to keep him in prison. They hadn’t been able to stop him from stealing that poor vigilante’s quirk: Siren. Once he had his precious package, he might go pay a visit to that little Rewind girl. He doubted that anyone would realize. 

He opened his mouth and began to sing a low, undulating call. The Siren quirk, one that the vigilante hadn’t even known about, pulled towards his precious one. With a little bit of finagling, he bypassed the other sleeping in the same bed. He frowned.

That brat was still alive? Sullying his precious little one? Tainting his innocence with brash words and violence. Well, no matter. He could kill the blonde stain anytime he wished. His precious came first and foremost.

He saw the restless shift of his precious’ head as the quirk took hold. Eyelids fluttered open, the forest of his eyes hazy and unfocused, like an evergreen in fog. With jerky movements, his precious rose from the bed, shuffling over the blonde stain onto the floor.  He flinched. If the blonde stain woke up, it’d create so much more work for him. Luckily, the stain settled, his disgusting and unworthy hands reaching out for his precious little one. He shook his head and turned his attention back to his goal. 

Finally standing up, the figure swayed, the color in his adorable little cheeks receding. He beckoned, the tone of his undulation shifting in order to draw the other closer. The figure did so, steps clumsy and uncoordinated. He so desperately wanted to jump through the portal and bring the boy into his arms, but knew better. His presence would leave a mark on the apartment, one that he knew couldn’t be renewed after all this time. The boy slammed into a wall, jerking Him out of his reverie. Damn his distraction. Not only could that wake the others up, but he had hurt his precious little one. He crooned faster, urging the boy to quicken his pace.

The boy fell, his legs giving out under him.

The boy’s eyes blinked, dazed and confused, but gaining clarity. He barked out his song, louder and more commanding. The control slammed over the boy’s mind so quickly his head dipped onto the floor. Only for a moment, though, then the body began to stand up and shuffle forwards.

The noise of the boy slamming into surfaces and His loud command had awoken the beast. He heard frantic scrambling from both of the bedrooms, pounding footsteps racing down the hall. The blonde stain appeared before him, freezing as he saw the body shuffle closer to the portal. The stain screamed and lunged forwards. He flicked out a tendril of smoke, knocking the boy back. The two women and the man entered the room as the blonde stain pulled himself up the wall.

His Love, his dearest one, sobbed at the sight and ran forwards, her hands outstretched. He made a decision. He released Siren.

The boy blinked as his mind cleared and became his own. The blonde stain lunged forwards, hands firing and lines of lightning firing all around him, desperate to get his filthy hands on His precious little one. His Love was closing in, her face the only one that the boy saw.

“Mama?” His voice was so small, weak and fading.

Just as the two reached him, arms out to catch him, to save him, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed backwards. His fingers brushed against the blonde stain’s as he fell backwards through the portal. He grinned as the portal closed, twin screams of his precious one’s name leaving the ones left behind. He felt a twinge of guilt at leaving His Love behind, but he would come back for her. His priority was his precious one, his son. 

All for One smiled down at his son’s unconscious body, pulling his limp form up into His arms and walking further into the Labyrinth. He stroked an errant green curl as he walked. 

“Papa’s home, Izuku.” 

Katsuki felt his hand brush against Izuku’s fingertips just as he fell back into the portal. His momentum carried him forwards, desperate to follow the other even into Hell. But the swirling purple mist snapped closed, leaving Katsuki to fumble as he tried to regain his footing. He fell to his knees and  looked back. Izuku was…gone? Katsuki heaved a breath before letting out a sobbing scream. His head thudded against the floor as he tried to breathe. He looked up, chest heaving.

Mitsuki threw open the apartment door and charged in followed by Ms. Joke and Aizawa. Ms. Joke looked around and, frowning, walked towards a sobbing Inko Midoriya. Aizawa looked to him.

“Bakugou, what happened?” Katsuki had seen Aizawa’s eyes dart back and forth, searching for Izuku. He knew that, if there had been any threat, Katsuki would have gone straight back to Izuku’s side had he still been in the apartment. Katsuki sucked in a breath and coughed. He felt his eyes burning and his face dampen. Aizawa knelt down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Katsuki reached up and gripped his teacher’s arm before looking him in the eyes.

“It was All For One, but also his dad? It was his dad’s voice, but there was a portal like during the training camp, and it looked like Izuku wasn’t in control. Zuku’s dad breathed fire. Maybe they’re working together?” Katsuki’s voice cracked. “But they took him. I was so close and they took him. FUCK.” The blonde slammed his hand down onto the floor. Aizawa froze.

He remembered back to when he had dropped the boys off, just a few days ago. The haunting feeling of being watched by the silver haired figure. The unease he had felt, that his students hadn’t been safe with that man in the picture. The awfully convenient timeline, Izuku’s father disappearing right after All Might’s devastating fight with All For One.

Aizawa’s hands shook against Bakugou’s shoulders as he turned to Inko. Her eyes, so large and reminiscent of her son, were rimmed with red. 

“Ms. Midoriya, what was your husband’s name?” Inko blinked.

“Well, he took my family name when we got married, and I’m having a bit of trouble remembering his.”

“Sh-shigaraki. It was Shigaraki.” Mitsuki was pale as a ghost when she spoke, walking to her son with robotic movements. Aizawa felt his stomach turn to ice.

“...Was his given name Hisashi?” 

“Yeah. How’d you know?” Aizawa closed his eyes as he thought back to the dossier Nedzu had shared with him after All For One had escaped. The villain’s name was clear as day. Hisashi Shigaraki .

“Because the only person who has ever been registered by the government as having that name is the villain All For One.”

Chapter Text

Katsuki stared blankly at the ceiling of his dorm room as someone - Kirishima he assumed - pounded on his door. He let out a sharp breath of air as he ignored the person at the door. His head turned sideways, eyes trailing down the side of a poster to look at the empty space of the wall. 

The bed he laid on was a single, too small for two healthy hero students, and just this side of uncomfortable for one healthy and one sick. It seemed so vast and lonely with him laying by himself. He felt the emptiness of the space next to him, a gnawing void begging to be filled but unable to. 

Izuku was who knows where having who knows what done to him, all in the clutches of the greatest villain the world had ever seen while possessing the one quirk destined to stop him. And apparently that villain, the mass murderer who had also sanctioned his own kidnapping, was his boyfriend’s father, the uncle he remembered and had cursed for leaving his family behind. 

Katsuki knew that he should be feeling something: anger, or rage, or betrayal, or hope. But he didn’t. All he felt was the emptiness by his side and in his heart. Izuku had taken all that Katsuki was when All For One abducted him, leaving Katsuki with only a too-big bed, an empty room, and a hole in his heart. 

The hours after Izuku had been abducted felt like a dream, some kind of uncanny valley nightmare that Katsuki couldn’t wake up from. He kept turning around, expecting to find Izuku leaning against him or drinking from that one stupid mug he seemed to adore. But every time he did, the shock of seeing Izuku collapse through the portal hit him all over again. Why couldn’t he have been faster? His body had frozen. It had been like the Sludge Villain all over again. Izuku burned, shone, fell. And all Katsuki could do was watch helplessly, hiding behind prisons of his own worthlessness. 

Aizawa had helped the Bakugous pack Inko and himself up before dragging them all to UA. They had made a stop at the Bakugou house to grab essentials. Through the fog Katsuki found himself in, he heard Aizawa talk about their safety. 

“All For One obviously knows where your home is and when you’re most vulnerable. If he took Izuku-” The teacher paused, his eyes lowering and looking suspiciously damp. “...then there’s a chance he’ll come back for you, ma’am. Since you’re close with the Bakugous, he might think to use them for leverage. We can’t know for sure, but we’d rather you be safe at UA and not need it then be vulnerable and out of our reach. We’re pulling the students back to the school. Their families are invited to join us if they feel the need, but you three are the only truly required to be here.” 

The trio of parents nodded, Inko sandwiched between them. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she no longer cried. Katsuki looked at her with a helpless expression on his face. He couldn’t bear to meet her gaze, though. Those eyes, so similar to Izuku’s, were a siren call of his inadequacy. He had promised to take care of Izuku, to protect him, to atone for all the damage that he had caused. No doubt those eyes would shine with the light of accusation. He felt the car rumble to a stop under his feet. Silence permeated the cab of the vehicle. The gates of UA seemed so unrelenting in the soft, quiet light of the dawn. But they also seemed to be the only thing that felt right. 

The world was beautiful, snowbanks and streetlamps. It was wrong. Nothing should be beautiful, not when Izuku wasn’t safe, wasn’t in his arms. The gentle morning mocked him. The land rang out with its admonishment: Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

How could Katsuki call himself a hero when he couldn’t save Izuku?

There was a hand on his shoulder. He traced it back up the small arm to the very eyes he couldn’t stand to meet. Inko’s other hand came up to grip his own. The woman leaned towards him.

“This is not your fault, Katsuki,” she said, “You did everything you could to protect Izuku.” Katsuki’s throat went dry. How was he supposed to answer? The poor mother should be raging, screaming, gnashing her teeth and shouldering Katsuki with his rightful burden of blame. Instead, the woman pulled him into an embrace, his back bent so as to fit better in her arms. 

“Please don’t blame yourself, Katsuki.” Katsuki’s hands, which had been fisted by his side, shook as they rose to cling to the fabric of her coat. He felt a burning behind his eyes and watched as beaded drops of water trickled down the slick surface of Inko’s coat.

The banging at the door began to sound different. Katsuki realized that it was because someone was yelling along. He groaned. 

“Open up, Bakugou!” The voice on the other side of the door snarled. 

“FUCK OFF.” Katsuki shoved his head further into the pillow. His head shot up once more at the threat the voice shouted.

“OPEN UP OR I START SINGING THAT SONG KAMINARI HAD ON REPEAT FOR THREE DAYS.” Katsuki’s eyes widened in panic. Not Smash Mouth. He wasn’t strong enough for that. 

“SOME BO-” The door slammed open. Katsuki’s face was drawn in a snarl. Todoroki snarled right back. Katsuki grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him into the dorm, slamming the door behind him. As soon as Shoto had regained his footing, he slammed his fist into Katsuki’s face. The blonde reeled back, spitting curses like venom. 

“What the SHIT, IcyHot?!” To Katsuki’s horror, Shoto’s eyes were rimmed with red. The dual quirk user’s chest heaved as he spat out his words.

“You were there the whole time. And he’s gone.” Katsuki felt something shatter in his chest. Burning warmth spread through his lungs, searing its way through his bones. 

“Don’t you think I fucking know that, Todoroki? I was inches away from grabbing him. And I let him slip through my fucking hands. Do you think that I don’t know that I’m the reason Zuku’s gone? That I’m the reason that we don’t know if he’s alive or not?” Katsuki felt the warmth spread to his face. His words were choked. “Fuck.” Suddenly, all the fight left Katsuki’s body. His back hit the door and he slid down until his knees hit his chest. “ Fuck!”

Shoto’s hands clenched. He sighed. It seemed that he had lost his fight too.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Bakugou.” His voice was low and tremulous. “I know that you didn’t just let him be taken. I was just…so angry.” Katsuki huffed a humorless laugh, the sound quiet yet still so loud.

“Join the fucking club.” Shoto deflated. He shuffled forwards before sinking down next to Katsuki. The two boys sat in silence. Shoto finally broke the silence.

“This is a familiar feeling.” Katsuki looked over at him, brows scrunched together. “Not for you, maybe. But for me. The all-consuming helplessness. Second guessing. ‘How could I have let this happen?’ Watching as someone important to you and to your friends gets snatched away and you can’t do anything. You’re frozen and useless.” Katsuki’s shoulders hunched at the last word. 

“...The training camp?”

“Yeah. Izuku fought so hard to save you. Both his arms were broken and the only thing keeping him standing was the terror at losing you. I couldn’t understand it. You had done nothing to deserve that devotion, but he almost killed himself trying to get to you. The scream that he let out once he realized that he had failed? It still haunts me.” Katsuki’s stomach dropped to the floor. Izuku had gone through hell trying to get to him, and had almost gotten expelled trying to save him. He had broken his body so much that he risked permanent immobility in his arms. And what had Katsuki done? 

Nothing. He had done nothing but run and miss. Izuku’s fingers had brushed his damn hand as he had fallen back through the portal. A hand was on his shoulder.

What happened?” Katsuki sighed, then explained the events of the night. Shoto was quiet for a moment. 

“Bakugou, don’t misunderstand me. The situation is different. He had barely survived a fight against an A-rank villain and pushed through to save you. You were both unaware and vulnerable. You did the best you could.” 

“My best wasn’t fucking good enough.” Katsuki’s snarl lacked heat. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter. What does matter is what comes next.” Katsuki looked at him. Shoto gave him a small grin.

“Let’s go kill All For One.”

Izuku felt disconnected. His mind and body were two separate entities hell-bent on not getting along. He floated in an inky ether, sinking deeper into the abyss. He saw a light in front of him and tried to reach out. His body wouldn’t move but he rose towards the dawn.

Ridges of blemished skin above a grinning maw greeted him. The sight was so alien to him that he didn’t even startle; Either that, or he hadn’t the energy to do much beyond blinking. The maw shrunk into a semblance of a mouth, the corners turning down.

“Hello, little dove. It’s been quite a while.” Izuku blinked. “Now, now lovie. Don’t you recognize your own father?” The mouth began moving, the corners pulling down into a frown. “Why are you so quiet, little one? You used to yell so happily when you saw me come home.” 

Izuku opened his mouth to ask where he and this fleshy potato had ever met, but felt the slick slide of blood build in his throat. He inhaled, hoping to say something - to ask the potato to help him - but the breath sparked against his weary lungs and all that came out was a spatter of blood. He hacked, trying to dispel the metallic sludge clogging his throat. The potato held his shoulders and turned to his side. As the coughs dissipated, he heard the potato’s words. 

“-really, Yoichi, you should know better than to hide a flare-up from me. I’m your big brother. I need to know when you’re feeling ill. No doubt it’s your unwillingness to eat what I’ve so graciously cooked for you that’s causing this.” Izuku whined in the back of his throat. Was this potato talking about Yoichi Shigaraki, the First holder of One For All who happened to be living as a ghost in his head rent free? Izuku looked over his shoulder at the potato, coughing once. The hands had stilled on his back.

“Izuku, lovie, are you not feeling well? That’s a nasty little cough you have there.” Izuku felt the hands still on his back begin to shake. “No doubt you’ve caught something from that nasty little Bakugou brat. Why you insist on being his friend I’ll never understand.” Izuku felt hands under his back and legs pulling him into the air. “Not to worry, Yoichi. Big brother will take care of everything. This is why I keep you safe in the vault. That way nothing can cause a flare-up. Do listen to me from now on, little one. Oh, I need to tell Inko that you’re running a fever. I’ll have Dr. Tanaka take a look at you. Papa will make everything better, little dove.” 

Mom?

The potato kept muttering, apparently undecided on whether or not he should call Izuku by his name or refer to him as Yoichi. Izuku was tired, cold, and hungry. His chest ached and he wanted Kacchan and his mother. Just as he passed through what looked like the doors to a bank vault, Izuku passed out. 

Katsuki and Shoto were quiet as they walked towards the elevators. Would he really kill All For One? Could he even succeed? The question bounced against the back of his skull and ricocheted through his brain. The ding of the elevators seemed distant as they entered the common room. He looked up to see seventeen faces lined with pain. All of the couches had been pushed aside and blankets were piled in the middle of the room. Pillows of all different colors littered the floor. Tissue boxes interspersed the chaos.

This is Class 1A in mourning, Katsuki thought. No one was unconscious, or immobile, or sparking delusions of grandeur of walking into the lion’s den. This was their class blindsided, vulnerable and sharing their grief. 

Kirishima’s head snapped to him as the two entered. His hair hung loose around his shoulders, the color matching his puffy eyes. Asui was curled against him, one hand scratching through his hair. Her face was impassive, but she let out sad little ‘ribbit’s that sounded teary. 

“Bakugou!” Kirishima shouted, his eyes widening. Everyone’s heads snapped over to him. Katsuki froze under the weight of their stares.

Uraraka was the first to move. She stood from her place curled in Mina’s lap and walked over, grabbing his arm and pulling. He followed, not knowing what else to do. They sank down.

“Are you okay?” Uraraka’s voice was soft in his ear. He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. He didn’t want to be vulnerable, not again. The only heart he ever wanted to bear his own to was lost in the ether. Uraraka nodded, somehow understanding what he meant. 

“No one really wanted to sleep alone.” It was Mina. “It just felt…wrong.” Katsuki nodded.

The room was quiet, conversations muted with the weight of what they were missing. Eventually, as the shadows on the wall grew and the night was only lit by the reflecting moon, the group shifted into one big pile. Katsuki ended up in the middle, arms belonging to people he didn’t recognize in the dim light twisting around his waist. He felt a desperate longing. 

The group fell asleep one by one until just Katsuki remained. He thought again to what Shoto had said.

Let’s go kill All For One. Could he do it?

As he felt his consciousness slip away, he decided. For Izuku, he could do anything.

Katsuki’s eyes snapped open onto a misty room on the edge of forever. Eight figures were huddled together, sharp whispers drowning in the miasma. 

“The fuck is going on?”

The Vestiges froze, and slowly turned around to face Katsuki. Banjo blew his noisemaker. Katsuki stared at him in shock.

“Just trying to diffuse the tension.” Banjo muttered.

Chapter Text

“Who. The Fuck. Are you.” Katsuki snarled. He felt his hands shake. Why were there all these people. Why did the tall man with white hair look so familiar, green eyes haunting him with promises and anguish. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The burly man with the noisemaker bit out. Katsuki felt affronted.

“I asked you first, asshole!”

“I asked you second!” 

The white haired man sighed, one hand coming up to rub his temple. Katsuki flinched when a man who looked just like him whispered something gently into the man’s ear. The man turned his haunting green eyes to Katsuki. 

“I assume that you’re ‘Kacchan’?”

“Not to you, fucknugget. Only Zuku gets to call me that. I’m Katsuki Bakugou.” The doppelganger tugged on the white haired man’s arm so that he stood behind the other.

“Watch your mouth, brat.”

“Make me, you two bit extra.” The burly man with the noisemaker snorted.

“Man, Izuku was right. You got a mouth on ya kid. Respect. Name’s Daigoro Banjo.” Katsuki stared. The man - Banjo - stared back. The white haired man shook his head, a reluctant grin on his face. He pushed past the doppelganger.

“Katsuki, then. It’s quite nice to meet you, although I wish it were under different circumstances. We are the Vestiges of One For All. My name is Yoichi Shigaraki. I am the First.” Katsuki’s blood ran cold.

“No.”

“...What?”

“No. You’re not the Vestiges. Cause if you were, it’d mean that Zuku gave me One For All. And that’s fucking ridiculous. I told him I wouldn’t take it. It’s his quirk, not mine.” Yoichi sighed.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki. Please believe me when I say that Izuku only did this because he thought there wasn’t another option.”

“I can’t accept that. I fucking can’t. Cause that means that All For One kidnapped Izuku and he’s fucking DEFENSELESS.” Katsuki’s voice rose until it was a scream. All of the vestiges froze. Daigoro dropped his noisemaker. A tall, muscular woman stepped forwards.

“He’s…with All For One?”

“Yes.” Katsuki’s voice was pained, the word punched out like it hurt even to think. The room was silent. Then, there was a bright flash, green-tinged lightning sparking in a quasar. Yoichi’s head snapped towards the light. The vestiges bolted towards the fading spark. Clamoring voices rang out, words echoing over each other in an unintelligible din. Katsuki felt frozen. Izuku was alone - completely alone. No quirk, no power, not even his own strength. Katsuki’s lungs filled with sand. He didn’t notice the clamor die down. Not until one voice, sweet and pure and so familiar, rang out in the muted silence.

“Kacchan?”

All For One watched as Dr. Takeda ambled about, measuring and listening and reacting with noises that he couldn’t parse the meaning from. Was Yoichi sick again? Why was Izuku so still on the bed? What had happened? How could he, bigbrotherfathercaretakerkeeper the most powerful man in the world, be so completely useless against the burden weighing down his brothersonbrothersonbrothersonbrotherson’s body? 

The doctor pulled blood from the pale arm, muttering all the while. The man hummed once before handing the vial off to a nomu. All For One sighed, the noise smoothing out in his respirator to sound just like a normal breath. Damned life-saving technology.

“We’ll have the results shortly. I must warn you, sir, his vitals are lower than I’d like. His lung fields are clogged up, and his sputum’s bloody. Going solely off of these findings, I’d say his prognosis isn’t great. Would you like me to start the Nomu-ification process?”

All For One hummed. The process of turning someone into a nomu was a painful one. He’d hate to see his little brother suffer like that. But it would strengthen his body, more than that silly little stockpile quirk could ever do. 

And, he could finally give his little Izuku a quirk. The poor boy had been so distraught when he learned that he was quirkless. This would bring a smile to his little dove’s face. But Inko would kill him if their precious little one was hurt. He’d have to mull it over. In the meantime, he would pick out a suitable quirk for his little boy. Perhaps a stockpiling quirk? He’d like that.

A stirring on the bed brought him out of his reverie. The boy’s eyes fluttered open,  flashes of green on a field of snow. All For One knelt next to the little bed his brothersonbrotherson laid on. The boy coughed, a wet and hacking sound. His head tilted to the side, shoulders shifting as he tried to turn. Dr. Tanaka helped the boy roll over, muttering under his breath something that sounded vaguely soothing. 

The boy flinched at the sight of him. All For One deflated. He really needed to make a visit to the rewind quirk if his own family didn’t recognize him. 

“It’s alright, lovie. You’re safe here. Nothing can hurt you. I’ve had the walls reinforced especially for your protection.”

The boy’s eyes widened and his breath quickened. His eyes darted about frantically, prey backed into a corner. All For One frowned. His precious would hurt himself like this. He laid a benevolent hand on his brothersonbrotherson’s forehead. Sedate activated. The boy’s movements turned sluggish and clumsy. As the boy slumped down, unconscious, All For One spoke.

“It’s alright, little dove. No one can hurt you. Not even you! Papa will protect you. He even built this nice vault for you, because you are his most precious treasure. And no one will steal Papa’s treasure ever again.”

Katsuki’s eyes snapped open. The muted sight of the dorm ceiling swirled into view. He groaned and his head fell against the blanket-covered ground. He slammed a fist down for good measure. Izuku had been right there! Uraraka turned over next to him.

“What happened?” Instead of replying, Katsuki held up his hand. The roiling bubble of warmth churning deep in his gut shattered and spread up his hand. Flashing orange lightning interspersed with green sparked around his hand, red lines of glowing light criss-crossing down his arm. 

Ochaco’s eyes were wide. Her voice was small as she spoke.

“That’s…that’s Deku’s quirk.”

“Yeah.”

“...Fuck.”

“Fuck is right, Kirby.” 

Yoichi knelt on the crumbling floor, hands combing through fragile green hair. Izuku’s head was pillowed on his lap, scarred hands laying on his chest. The boy whimpered in his sleep, his head turning to its side. Yoichi looked up at Second. The man kneeled next to him, one hand holding the back of the other’s neck. 

“Why is our connection with him so distant?” Second’s voice rumbled as he spoke.

“I don’t know.” Yoichi pressed his hand to Izuku’s forehead. With a flash, he heard the terrifyingly familiar rumble of his brother’s voice. 

It’s alright, little dove. No one can hurt you. Not even you! Papa will protect you. He even built this nice vault for you, because you are his most precious treasure. And no one will steal Papa’s treasure ever again.

Yoichi shuddered. Second leaned forward so that their foreheads touched. Yoichi gave the other a shaky smile.

“I’m alright.” Second frowned but said nothing. The other vestiges sat in a loose circle around them, eyes downcast. 

“Yo.” It was Banjo. “We need to trust in that Bakugou kid. Izuku trusted him enough to give him this power. We need to honor his decision. When he goes to sleep, we’ll bring him back. Kid seemed pretty torn up about the whole situation.

“I don’t blame him,” Yoichi sighed. Just then, the boy on his lap stirred.

Izuku opened his eyes.

Chapter Text

Katsuki stalked through the halls of UA, hands in his pockets. He came to the room that Izuku and All Might had always met in to discuss One For All. He kicked the door open. Inside, Toshinori jumped. He was sitting next to that detective guy and Aizawa.

“Young Bakugou!”

“We need to talk, All Might.” Katsuki’s voice was low, anger lacing each word. Aizawa sat up straighter. The detective blinked.

“Now might not be the best time, Bakugou. We’re discussing leads pertinent to Izuku’s case.” Aizawa’s voice was tired, but his eyes were a sad sort of soft. Katsuki groaned. 

“I need to talk to that dumb idiot about Zuku’s quirk.” Toshinori’s eyes widened. Aizawa frowned, eyes narrowing. All Might sighed.

“Alright, Young Bakugou. I’ll meet outside with you in a minute.”

“No.”

“...Excuse me?”

“You’ll meet with me right fucking now, and these two will stay to watch.” Toshinori flicked his eyes towards the two men. Aizawa’s calculating eyes snapped from Katsuki to Toshinori, the beginnings of anger smoldering in the corners. 

“I don’t think that’s the be-”

“He gave it to me.” The room fell dead silent. “He gave it to me and now he’s gone.” Toshinori dropped the cup he was holding.

“I’m sorry, Bakugou. Did you say that Midoriya… gave you his quirk?” Aizawa’s voice was calm, but the sudden tensing of his hands gave away his real thoughts. 

“Yeah. This idiot gave Zuku his quirk because it was built to defeat All For One. And now he’s with the bastard and is quirkless again.”

“Explain.”Aizawa’s voice held no room for disagreement. His gaze was laser-focused onto the shaking blonde man sitting across from him. Toshinori began to explain the history behind One For All. Aizawa was quiet for a moment.

“And when did you give him this incredibly dangerous, super powerful quirk?”

“A few hours before the Entrance Exam.” Aizawa nodded and stood up. He crossed the room and slugged Toshinori in the face. The former Symbol of Peace reeled back, blood leaking from his now-broken nose and spitting curses.

“What was that for?”

“ENDANGERING ONE OF MY STUDENTS, YOU POMPOUS ASS. I almost expelled Midoriya because I thought he just didn’t care enough to train with his quirk. You put his LIFE in danger by not telling anyone, Toshinori.” Aizawa’s voice was a snarl. 

“I,I-I didn’t think-” All Might was cut off.

“That’s right, All Might, you didn’t think. I’m not sure you’re even capable of it.” Aizawa turned to Katsuki. “Bakugou, is there anything else you can tell us about the situation? Even the smallest detail might help.”

Katsuki shook his head. “I just remember waking up and seeing him at the portal. His eyes were all cloudy. The bastard was singing like some shit in a fairy tale. Zuku had a moment where he recognized his mom, then he fell.” Aizawa nodded.

“Tsukauchi, can you see if anyone’s reported a missing quirk anything like Bakugou’s described?” The detective nodded and stood up. 

“I’ll send you the information as soon as I can.” He turned to Katsuki. “We’ll get him back.” He left out the door, phone already held to his ear. Aizawa sighed and deflated, sinking down onto the couch behind him. 

“I”m sorry that this happened, Bakugou.” Katsuki nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He turned on his heel and exited the room, breaking into a run. He needed to hit something. 

Izuku blinked up at Yoichi. Everything was silent for a moment. Then the vestiges swarmed like bees, clamoring over each other. Eventually, Nana shouted over all of them. They quieted. She held a hand out to Izuku.

“Hey, kiddo. How’re ya holding up?” Izuku shrugged before turning to the side and letting out a harsh cough. Yoichi’s hands were on his shoulders, turning him to his side. Blood spattered against the crumbling tile of the room. Yoichi rubbed his back, whispering softly to the boy retching blood. Izuku gasped, his throat finally clear of bloody sludge.

“Hey,” Izuku said, his voice little more than a cracked whisper. “What’s going on?” The vestiges looked at each other.

“We aren’t sure ourselves, Izuku. Can you tell us where you went?” Izuku’s brows scrunched as he fought to remember.

“Uh, it’s all kind of blurry, but there was a talking potato?” Banjo snorted. “It was really creepy. He kept calling me pet names and saying I’m his son, but he also called me your name, like he couldn’t keep us straight in his head.”

En piped up from the back of the crowd. “Forward, darling, never straight.” Izuku huffed a laugh, his head plunking down on Yoichi’s leg. 

“Izuku, that was All For One. His true name is Hisashi Shigaraki.” Izuku’s eyes snapped open from where they had fluttered almost shut.

“That’s…my dad’s name.” Yoichi closed his eyes.

“I know. Izuku, All For One is your father.” He let out a wry chuckle. “I guess that makes me your uncle, huh?” Izuku looked up at him, eyes searching. 

“Does that mean Second is also my uncle?” The two in question flushed bright red. Izuku laughed again, the sound stronger and reverberating through his chest. “You don’t have to answer that, I guess. I know it’s true.” Izuku grinned at them. Yoichi felt his own face pull up into a matching expression. One hand brushed gently against the boy’s forehead. The vestiges all went quiet for a moment.

“This sucks ass.” It was Banjo.

“Go off, sis.” En.

“Why are you guys using such antiquated slang? What is this, the COVID renaissance?” Nana.

“Oof.” En.

“Material gorl!” Third.

“Ugh, as if!” Banjo. There was a grin in his voice, and Izuku could see the broad man doing some flippant gesture with his hand, likely from some antique movie from his youth long ago. 

Suddenly, Izuku felt his chest sinking through the floating floor, liquid death filling up his lungs. His head melted against Yoichi’s legs, seeping down to pool under his body. His arms became lead. Frail wrists smacked against crumbling tile floors as Izuku’s strength failed. Izuku blinked as his vision swam, the concerned faces hovering above him blurring at the edges. Izuku’s breath came faster as the sharp claws of panic began raking their way through his abdomen. The hand was back on his head. It didn’t stroke through his hair this time, but stayed as warm and comforting weight, grounding him to the present. 

“Izuku,” Yoichi’s voice was soft in his ear, “You’re waking back up. Don’t be afraid, okay? I’m coming with you. I’m right here with you. You aren’t alone. I’m here.” Izuku’s vision faded and his ears rang with the fading sounds of the vestiges screaming his and Yoichi’s names.

Chapter Text

Katsuki was whaling away at a pathetic-looking punching bag in the far corner of the gym by the time that Eijiro found him. The red haired boy hesitated before he approached. One footstep creaked against the wooden gym floors and Katsuki snapped around, quirk popping through his hand wrappings. Eijiro lurched away as sparking explosions flared in his periphery. His skin hardened on instinct, coming up to shield his face. Katuski deflated from his defensive posture. His back hunched over as his head hung low. 

“Shit. My bad, Shitty Hair.” Eijiro grinned at the other boy. 

“No sweat, Bakubro.”

Katsuki sighed and nodded before walking over to the bench. Eijiro followed him. The two boys sat down as Katsuki began unwinding the wraps over his hands. The boys sat in silence. Katsuki threw his wraps haphazardly into his bag. He looked up. And his body tensed in a full length flinch.

There was a semi-transparent person standing in front of him, yellow-gloved arms crossed against their chest and a white cape billowing gently at their back. Eijiro snapped his head over to Katsuki, his brows drawn together.

“Bakubro?” The figure held up a hand.

“He cannot see me, Katsuki Bakugou. We need to speak to you about Ninth. Stand and follow me, okay?” He huffed and leaned down, nodding as he went. Quickly zipping his bag, he stood up and began walking.

“Gym’s yours, Shitty Hair. I gotta go.” Kirishima frowned.

“Alright, man. Be careful, okay?” Katsuki rolled his eyes and followed the ghostly figure out of the gym. The pair walked through the darkened courtyard into the densely wooded area of UA’s campus. The wind rustled gently through the leaves and Katsuki felt a small shiver rush up his spine. The pair walked in silence. As the pair entered a clearing, Katsuki could hear the murmur of voices. He saw five figures standing in a loose circle.

The gruff, burly man from before was the first one to spot him. He grinned, but the expression did not reach his weary, drawn eyes.

“It’s Nine’s Kacchan!”

“I told you not to call me that, dammit!” Katsuki snarled, hands balled into fists. The doppelganger walked forwards. 

“Banjo’s just trying to push your buttons, kid.” Katsuki huffed but said nothing, his arms crossed. The figure who had led him into the forest walked forwards to join her companions. 

“Sorry for the intrusion, Bakugou, but we need your help finding Nine. He and First disappeared a little while ago and we can’t find them.” 

“And here I was thinking I was about to be murdered.” 

The doppelganger rolled his eyes. “The sarcasm is greatly appreciated, Sparky Sparky Boom Man.” Banjo snorted. Katsuki uncrossed his arms, one hand raking through his hair. 

“Don’t you idiots think that if I had a way to track Izuku, I would have already blasted All For One into next century and brought him home?” The woman huffed a small laugh.

“Undoubtedly, Bakugou. But we think we’ve figured out a way to find them. We need you, however, to do the legwork. It’s hard to get anything done when you don’t actually have a corporeal body.” Katsuki’s head snapped up. 

“You…know how to bring him home?” Katsuki fought to keep the hope out of his voice. It was a dream, it had to be. 

“It’s not a guarantee, but I think so.” The woman looked to the side. “It does, however, have to wait until Izuku and First are back with us.”
“Why?”

“We think that there’s a way for us to connect yours and Izuku’s energies through a conduit. But we need both of you together in order to start the process.” Katsuki frowned. “Until then, I need you to think about anything Izuku had on him before he was taken. It’ll act as our conduit.” 

Katsuki froze. 

The ring.

As far as he knew, Izuku was still wearing it when All For One abducted him. He told the vestiges this. The woman nodded.

“That’s perfect. It has an emotional connection between you two.” Before Katsuki could reply, the same white-green flash sparked at the edge of the clearing. 

Sinking back into his vaulted body was something that Izuku didn’t particularly enjoy. As consciousness returned to him, he could feel the ache in his chest thrum, throat throbbing. Izuku’s eyes blinked open. He turned his head to the side and saw All For One perched in a tiny chair. The man didn’t seem to register that he was awake. He turned his head to look around the room. A small lamp cast warm light against the cinder block ceiling, cement walls graying at the edge of his vision. A glance to the side revealed an imposing steel door crossed throughout with heavy locks and cogs. So I’ve been vaulted , Izuku mused, This man needs some fresh material. 

A ghostly hand was still pressed gently to his forehead. Izuku looked up. Yoichi looked down at him, the skin around his eyes crinkled in a smile. Despite the expression, Izuku could feel a fine tremor from the hand against his skin. He reached up and grabbed the man’s free hand. Yoichi looked startled for a moment, but the tension in his shoulders softened. Suddenly, he heard banging against the recesses of his brain.

He can’t see or hear me, but I’ll be here with you as long as you need me.

Thanks, Yoichi.

A noise to Izuku’s side brought his attention away from Yoichi and back to the situation. All For One was turned towards him, head tilted as if he could see Izuku. He supposed that the man must have taken some sort of sensory quirk that would allow him to see without eyes. Kind of a useless quirk without an extremely specific situation , Izuku thought. All For One’s large hand wrapped around his own, pulling the appendage up into a mockery of a cradle. It would have been a comforting gesture had it not been the biggest supervillain in history. The man squeezed Izuku’s hand much too tight to be comfortable. He could feel his fingers jump at the sudden movement. 

“Good morning, my little dove. Did you sleep well?” All For One’s voice was sickly sweet, grating on Izuku’s nerves.

“Why am I here?” Izuku asked. His voice was scratchy and weak. The hulking man tutted softly. 

“Now now, lovie, you know this. It isn’t safe for you outside.”

“Why?”

The man’s mouth twisted into a semblance of exasperation. He huffed like a petulant child. 

“Now really, is this any way to repay me? I’ve gone to all this trouble to make this nice room for you, and here you are being incredibly rude.” 

“I didn’t ask you to. You were the one who abducted me.” All For One sighed, shaking his head.

“Yoichi, really. I have a right to see you. I am your father! Why are you acting this way?” Izuku heard a noise of disgust coming from behind him, the subtle shifting of Yoichi’s hand as he shuddered at the thought. “I suppose it was too much to ask for you to be nice to me. After all I’ve done for you.” Izuku felt Yoichi pull away. His eyes darted to try and find where the vestige had gone. A head of white hair popped up from behind the man’s broad shoulder. Izuku pinched his lips together in an effort to stave off laughter.

All For One began to rant about how ungrateful Izuku was being. The entire time, Yoichi was mouthing along behind him, making silly faces and generally causing mischief. At one point, Yoichi turned around and began dancing with his hands on his knees. Izuku’s chest shook with the force of holding back his glee. Just as Yoichi dropped down into a squat with one hand high in the air, Izuku felt the dam on his laughter break. Luckily enough for him, Izuku’s lungs also decided to voice their complaints loudly.

Izuku let out a hacking, wheezing cough, blood clawing its way up his throat. All For One, shocked out of his monologue, reached forwards. Izuku rolled to his side before the man could reach him, dribbling pink-tinged fluid down onto the floor. As his hacking coughs subsided, he heard the villain sigh. 

“I suppose my presence was too much excitement for you, little dove.” Izuku felt a presence loom over his shoulder before a large finger was pressed to his temple. “Sleep now, Izuku. Big Brother will come visit you later. Maybe I’ll even give you a quirk. You’ve wanted one for so long, haven’t you. You were so heartbroken when that Bakugou boy got one and you didn’t. We’ll think about it, precious.” Izuku felt his consciousness fading as All For One used another quirk on him. As the last of the vault faded from his sight, Izuku felt Yoichi’s cool hand brush against his forehead. 

Izuku woke up in a forest clearing that he knew for certain was on the UA campus. He and Katsuki had come to train there in days past. Yoichi’s face peeked into his line of sight. 

“I’m very sorry, Izuku.”

“It’s okay, Yoichi. Having you there made me feel so much more safe.” The vestige gave him a soft smile before loud voices cut through the clearing. The clamoring was a comforting nonsense. Izuku could feel the tension in his body soften as the familiar voices sunk into his bones. He was with the vestiges. He was safe. Izuku froze, then blinked.

“Hey, Yoichi?”

“Yes?”

“Why are we at UA?” Yoichi looked around at the new yet familiar scenery.

“I’m not quite sure.” Just then Nana’s voice rose above the clamor.

“That’s perfect. It has an emotional connection between you two.” Izuku and Yoichi looked up at each other. Yoichi shrugged. Everything was quiet for a moment. Then, a voice so achingly familiar called out to him.

“Izuku?”

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s hands trembled. Across the clearing, sprawled on the snowy ground with his head pillowed in the pale guy from earlier’s lap, lay Izuku. Sweet, brave, kind Izuku, who had been taken by the most dangerous man in the world. Katsuki knew better than to believe that he had been rescued, or had fought his way out. The vestiges had warned him. But even the knowledge that a piece of his heart was just in reach smoldered like flames in his gut. The vestiges were quiet. He felt a weight on his shoulder. Flicking his eyes over, Katsuki realized that it was the fake Katsuki - Second, he thought baldy had said - placing his hand on his shoulder.

For all the disinterest and rage the man had shown him, Second’s face was drawn with a soft sort of sadness. It almost looked like longing. Katsuki tore his eyes away, not wanting to see himself reflected in the other man. 

“Izuku?” The boy’s name left Katsuki’s lips almost before he had realized. The word was snatched from his lips, almost as if it had been stolen by the other. Izuku’s head turned towards him. Izuku’s half-lidded eyes widened, the burning emerald distinct even in the half-light of the evening. 

With laborious movements, Izuku turned to face them, one arm pushing weakly against the packed snow under him. The ghostly figure of the pale man shifted as he helped Izuku sit up. Izuku’s chest rose and fell with little heaves of breath.

“Kacchan?” Katsuki ached. Izuku’s voice was cracked and half-gone, but it was his and it beckoned him forwards. Katsuki took stumbling steps forward before he fell to his knees in front of the other boy. The blonde felt his breaths rattle in his chest as he reached up. He felt his heart crack as his hand ghosted through Izuku’s cheek, the apparition of his boyfriend swirling gently where it had been displaced. Still, Izuku leaned into the touch as if he could feel it. His frail hand came up and cupped Katsuki’s. Crystalline tears pooled in the corners of Izuku’s eyes. Katsuki laughed, the sound coming out wet.

“Damn crybaby nerd,” he said in a low voice, steadfastly ignoring the fiery pinpricks at the corners of his eyes. Izuku’s shoulders shook in a silent laugh. Katsuki heaved in a shuddering breath.

“Izuku. Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, baby.” Katsuki couldn’t meet his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to see the betrayal, the accusation in that gaze. “I let that fucking bastard take you. Fuck. I’m sorry.” Katsuki choked on the last word. His eyes squeezed shut, head bent. He prepared himself for Izuku’s verdict. Could he ever even hope to atone? Izuku let off a choked little noise.

“Kacchan,” Izuku’s voice sounded wet. Katsuki tensed for the final blow. “Kacchan, baby, please look at me.” Katsuki felt a gentle brush of air against his chin. Izuku had forgotten that they couldn’t touch each other. He raised his head slowly, each second agonizing as he looked up to meet his fate. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Kacchan.” 

Their gazes met. Izuku smiled at him, the expression wobbly but still warm. Katsuki’s chest hitched as he inhaled.

“What?”

“It’s not your fault, Kacchan. Please don’t blame yourself. I know that you did your best to get to me. But I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t blame yourself.” Katsuki scrubbed his face with one hand. He looked back up. Izuku still sat in front of him. But there was tension in his shoulders. His hand sat in his lap, shaking with the tiniest of tremors. Suddenly, Katsuki could feel an ache in his chest so deep it felt like a tangible wound. At the edges, fear crackled like a static discharge. He had to know. 

“Has he done anything to you?” Izuku blinked. “Has he hurt you, Zuku?” The boy’s eyes widened slightly before he shook his head.

“He hasn’t done anything other than being imposingly creepy and confusing me with First.” Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “But…he mentioned giving me a quirk.” The clearing went dead silent. The vestiges had been chatting softly, Second pulling Yoichi into his arms with an aura of protective possession. All eyes were on Izuku. Katsuki shifted so that he sat next to Izuku rather than in front of him. 

“We need to get to you as soon as possible. Izuku, is there anything at all you can tell us about where you are?” The green haired boy shook his head, looking down.

“The portal opened straight into a hallway. He put me in a bank vault, but that’s all I know.” Katsuki’s chest tightened at Izuku’s words. He was being kept like a thing, some precious trinket, locked away in a fucking vault where nothing could reach him. Katsuki saw the pale man flinch, and Second run his hand softly against the other’s arm in a gesture of comfort. Looks like this ain’t the first time the bastard has tried this. Nana stepped forwards. 

“We think we’ve figured out a way to find you. It’s a long shot, but I think it’ll work. You and Ten have such a deep connection to each other. We think that One For All can amplify that and create a beacon to your location.” Izuku stilled beside him. Katsuki turned. 

“Nerd?” Izuku hesitated.

“...Really?” Izuku’s voice was small, tinged with a hesitant sort of hope. Katsuki reached over and, remembering their inability to touch, placed his hand on the ground next to the other. Izuku’s hand laid on top of his, weightless but sure. Nana nodded.

“We think so. Hold out your hand for me, please. The one with the ring.” Izuku did so, the tremor in his hands fading. 

First walked over and knelt down, taking his hand and tapping the ring. A drop of light bounced off the tiny gems before settling around the band. The pale man’s eyes widened and his mouth ticked up at the side into a small grin. He nodded and squeezed Izuku’s hand before standing up. Second came over and repeated the process, looking over at Katsuki with an unreadable expression as he stood up. The light gained an orange band intertwining with the pure white of First’s touch. The process was repeated until Nana beckoned over a burning gold figure. She led their hand to the rainbow of colors swirling gently against Izuku’s finger. When the figure touched the ring, sunflower gold intertwined itself into the mix. Finally, Nana looked over at Katsuki.

“Tap your finger to the ring, kid. Then, tap something on your person that’s important to you. If it has a connection to Izuku, all the better.” Katsuki thought for a moment, then remembered Izuku’s Christmas gift. The twin hero charms came off of the frame easily. He had put Izuku’s into his pocket as some sort of comfort. If he couldn’t have Izuku by his side, something that he had given him would at the very least make him feel less alone. He pulled the charm out of his pocket, cupping it in his hand like a priceless jewel. Izuku’s lip wobbled even as he smiled.

“It’s your gift.”

“Course it is, dumbass. You gave it to me. How could I not?” Izuku let out a wet laugh and nodded. Katsuki pressed his finger to the suddenly tangible ring. He felt smoldering warmth trail from his heart down his arm to drip onto the tiny jewels. A line of crimson swirled around and leapt up to brush against Izuku’s cheek before joining its counterparts around Izuku’s finger. 

Katsuki pressed that same finger to the charm in his hand. The iridescent rainbow swirled up and around until one end enmeshed itself into the charm. Banjo let out a yell. Second smacked his arm. Nana turned to them, her smile wider than Katsuki had ever seen.

“The beacon is lit.” 

“Gondor calls for aid!” One of the vestiges yelled behind her.

“And Rohan will answer!” Another replied. Izuku snorted. Katsuki choked down a laugh. He let out a breath, then looked Izuku in the eyes.

“I’m coming for you, Izuku. Wait for me.” Izuku nodded.

Shoto’s leg bounced as he sat in the common room. The class, sans two of their friends, milled around. The muted energy from yesterday persisted, tinged with impatience. He looked around. Uraraka chatted with Mina as they walked around, not able to stay still. Mineta sat at a different couch, too depressed at Izuku’s disappearance to even try anything that would sentence him to the Shame Corner. The movement died down a little. 

The doors of Heights Alliance slammed open. Everyone whirled around at the noise. Katsuki strode in, a dangerous grin on his face. Shoto shot up. If Bakugou’s smiling, then he has a plan. He walked forwards. Their gazes met. Katsuki nodded at him. Shoto felt adrenaline burst through his veins. Katsuki turned to the room at large. The class waited with bated breath, each expression determined as they saw Katsuki’s passion. He opened his mouth.

“Grab your shit, fuckers. We’ve got an Izuku to save and a villain to kill.”

Aizawa arrived at Heights Alliance just as nineteen of his students - dressed to the nines in their hero costumes and looking for all intents and purposes ready for war - burst through the doors. They faltered as they saw him.

“What are you doing.”

Chapter Text

Nineteen bodies froze as Aizawa’s icy gaze raked over them. The man had one foot on the porch and the other on one of the steps. Exhaustion seemed to seep into his bones as he crossed his arms over his chest. The man sighed.

“Well?” Nobody spoke. Some of the students shifted on their feet and tried not to look guilty. They utterly failed. He turned to Eijiro. Damn, Katsuki thought, The weak link . For as much of an amazing hero and friend that Eijiro was, he couldn’t lie for shit. When asked, he had flushed and said that it ‘wasn’t manly’. Katsuki knew that he just had too many tells and couldn’t figure out how to get rid of them. Kaminari leaned over and hissed into the other’s ear.

“Play dumb, Eiji.” Kirishima nodded, straightened his shoulders, and looked up at Aizawa with an innocent expression.

“Who’s Kirishima?” Katsuki groaned and smacked his forehead with a palm.

“NOT THAT DUMB.” Katsuki wouldn’t be surprised if the third years could hear Denki’s reprimand. Aizawa closed his eyes and shook his head, looking for all the world like he was asking some unknown deity to grant him strength. Kirishima hunched away from Katsuki, seeing the murder written plainly on his face. Katsuki sighed. Looks like it’s up to me. As per fucking usual. He looked Aizawa in the eyes.

“We’re going to rescue Izuku.” Aizawa stared at him. Katsuki stared back. “You can either come with us or get the hell out of the way.” Katsuki could almost pinpoint the moment that Aizawa’s soul left his body. Someone let out a shocked moan behind him, most likely Iida. Aizawa blinked. Resignation slammed over his face. 

“I’ll get the bus.” Aizawa turned on his heel and began walking away. The class was frozen. He turned back. “If you don’t come now, I’ll leave you behind.” That spurred everyone into action. The rattling of their feet against the pavement turned into a dull roar as they jogged to meet Aizawa’s quickly retreating form. When they reached the Bus Lot, Aizawa turned around.

“Listen up. This is not a sanctioned mission. The only reason that I am letting you go at all is that your provisional licenses allow you to operate with a larger scope of practice during a State of Emergency. Midoriya’s rescue has been classified as a Class 1 Priority because of All For One’s involvement. This is a Search and Rescue mission ONLY, am I clear?” His eyes flashed as he spoke. The class nodded. His eyes focused on Katsuki. He gave an annoyed huff but nodded. Going on this mission was too important for him to miss. 

Aizawa gestured towards the bus. The class filed in, but Katsuki felt a hand on his arm pulling him back. It was Aizawa. He frowned.

“What was your plan, Bakugou?” Katsuki sighed. How was he going to be able to explain this without looking like an absolute lunatic? The charm that Izuku had given him weighed heavily in his hand, iridescent strings dragging him forwards. He unfolded his hand and showed Aizawa. The man raised an eyebrow but said nothing. 

“The vestiges did some weird shit and connected our energies. This is a beacon.” Aizawa nodded. Katsuki glanced up at him. 

“Since All Might mentioned that he could still access the power after the transfer until the fight with All For One, I’m assuming Midoriya still has some connection to the quirk and that’s how you were able to create this beacon?” Katsuki nodded, shocked at Aizawa’s easy acceptance of this. “Alright. You’re in the front with me. Hope you’re a better navigator than Mic.” Katsuki wanted to ask, but decided that now wasn’t the right time. He followed Aizawa into the bus, holding his hand flat so that the connection shone interrupted. He felt a pull in his chest and pointed in that direction. Aizawa nodded and started the bus.

Just hold on, Izuku, Katuski thought, I’m coming. Wait for me.

All For One frowned as He watched His son sleep. The grainy footage from the security camera irked Him. His little one's chest rose and fell in an even pattern, calm in sleep in a way that he hadn't been since he'd arrived at the base. Yoichi's hand twitched against the fabric of the bed. He needed to monitor the figure resting. Their condition had grown quite dire. 

He fought the urge to go to His little one. Dr. Garaki - whom Izuku knew as Dr. Tsukasa - had made it clear in no uncertain terms that Yoichi needed to rest. Izuku had become quite sick, and he questioned why His Love had been so neglectful with His precious little boy.

The poor thing was coughing blood, another flare-up which should have been preventable. He would have to make it a point to look further into the situation. He couldn't have His precious little dove in the hands of someone neglectful of his needs. He had expected better from Inko, but He supposed that there was nothing He could do now except help Yoichi through his flare-up like always.

Hopefully, Izuku wouldn't try to bite him again. He had been forced to take his little books away for that little stunt, and Izuku wouldn't talk to him for weeks, not until his beautiful snowy hair hung lank and limp down his forehead.

But Yoichi had been such a kind little boy, always wanting to help and needing reassurance of His continued love after the poor boy was diagnosed as quirkless. He could still feel Yoichi's little green curls against the palm of his hand as he kissed the giggling little boy's forehead before pulling up his hospital blanket and tucking it around his shaking shoulders before walking out and closing the vault door as quietly as possible. 

Dr. Garaki appeared at his side, his hands clasped behind his back. All For One sighed.

"Has his status changed?" The doctor shook his head.

"His vitals are steady, but I still think too much excitement would be bad for him." He paused. "Have you given any more thought as to my suggestion?" All For One nodded.

This was a decision that he had made with a heavy heart. The process was painful. Inko would be furious with him if she found out. But he needed to put his precious little dove's health and safety first and foremost, consequences be damned.

"Begin the preparations, Doctor."

For the first time since he had been abducted, Izuku woke up alone. No looming supervillain, no needles stealing blood, no looming threat of becoming a nomu. The ceiling of the bank vault was unfortunately familiar, but it was a welcome sight in comparison to what could have been waiting for him. Izuku tried to lift his hand, only to feel a pull on his wrist. A band of pressure around two inches tugged at his skin. He tried his other limbs, and even his head, and realized that the same pressure appeared when he tried to move. 

Izuku felt fear flood his veins, settling heavy in his stomach. Was he restrained? Why? He could barely get up to go to the bathroom without assistance. Were they expecting him to take a swing? It seemed that his panic had summoned the vestiges. He felt the settling comfort of their presence weigh down his bones, quelling the panic to a more manageable level. He looked at Yoichi. The man’s face was pinched, but there was a sinking glimmer of recognition in his eyes. 

“Yoichi?” The man’s lips pinched. “Do you know what’s going on?” The man shook his head.

“No, I’m afraid. I recognize the restraints, but I don’t know what he’s planned for you. I’m sorry, Izuku.” Izuku could feel the telltale pricks of fire on his eyes indicating that he was near tears. He felt a hand scratch gently through his hair, mindful not to pull on the hairs trapped against the restraint. Banjo’s gruff voice rumbled from behind his head.

“It’s okay to be scared, kid. You don’t have to hide anything from us. We’ve read the fanfiction that you have. Our bond is unbreakable.” Izuku hiccuped a laugh as tears began trickling down his cheeks. 

“Yeah, kiddo. Once you read Omegaverse with someone, it’s for life,” En piped up. Second snorted.

“It was one fic. Let me live.” The man behind him laughed. It was suspiciously wet. The hand brushing through his hair ruffled it gently. 

"C'mon, y'all. Leave the poor kid be." Nana's voice was teasing, but subdued. The vestiges went silent for a moment.

"Did you...did you just say y'all, Seven?" 

"You damn well know my name by now, Banjo."

"I feel like our relationship changed just now, and calling you by your name feels weird."

"HOW."

"YOU SAID Y'ALL. IN JAPANESE. UNIRONICALLY."

"This post is a trainwreck." 

"Stop being a meme, Third."

Izuku started laughing so hard he wheezed. The vestiges smiled at the sound. Then wheezing laughs turned into coughs, and Izuku felt the familiar feeling of bloody sludge crawl up his throat. Panic rose in his chest from where it had been stomped down by the vestiges. He would drown in his own blood if left like this. Seven pairs of hands fluttered around him as the vestiges tried to help.

Izuku let out a particularly forceful cough and felt the sludge leave his throat only to drip down his chin. He felt tears coming to his eyes once again as the feeling of loss raked through his chest. He was embarrassed, vulnerable, and uncomfortable. Banjo's hand returned to his hair, scratching gently against his scalp. 

Yoichi appeared with a handkerchief in hand and wiped the bloody sludge off the boy's face. Izuku smiled and mouthed a thank you at him, his throat feeling too raw from the coughing fit to force words out. The vestige nodded and patted his cheek before he pulled away. 

Just then, unseen speakers crackled to life. 

“Subject D3Ku, for the initialization of the Nomuification process. The procedure will begin in thirty minutes.”

Chapter Text

Izuku felt his blood run cold. Banjo’s hand stilled in his hair, fingers tensing at the words. The vestiges went silent. It felt like all of the air in the room had vanished, sucked out by the speakers that had decreed his fate. Izuku’s breath quickened; short, shallow gasps that felt to him like gulping seawater. His eyes flicked around, looking for an exit, an escape, an end. Nothing appeared. The bank vault door was sealed shut. In any case, Izuku couldn’t pry open the door. He could barely stand on his own, much less perform acts of strength or heroism. Salty seawater, the same that had been slowly drowning him, pooled up through his skin at the corner of his eyes and began leaking down his cheeks. The vestiges crowded around. 

“Kid!”

“Jesus FUCK.”

“Holy Shit.”

“We’ve gotta get you out of here.”

“Where’s that fucking Kacchan kid? He should be here by now.”

“Are you okay, Izuku?” It was Yoichi, his haunting green eyes furrowed in concern and boring holes into Izuku’s psyche. Izuku wheezed at him, the salty taste of the ocean pouring down his throat. Yoichi brushed through his hair as his eyes snapped to Second. 

“What do we do?” En’s voice was thready, uncertain. All eyes were on Yoichi and Izuku. Green met green as their gazes locked onto each other. Izuku coughed around the ocean pooling in the recesses of his bones. The frothy water sprayed out of his mouth as he tried to cough, each hack tinged in metal. Yoichi’s hand kept its steady brushing through his hair even as the man sighed, looking down.

“If Bakugou isn’t here in time, we need to merge.” 

The only reason that Katsuki’s grip on the charm wasn’t choking was that the damn thing swiveled in his palm, the iridescent beam shooting out of it pointing in the direction they needed to go. He would bark out the next turn or direction to Aizawa as soon as he saw the line move. Helpfully enough, the beacon seemed to understand that going through buildings was impossible; they had been able to follow its directions on the street with no issue. Katsuki didn’t know if it was pure chance, but a nagging feeling in his mind made him think otherwise. 

Aizawa turned to him. The man’s foot was pressed to the floor, his other leg bouncing. Katsuki was really unsure as to how they hadn’t been pulled over yet, but he decided to ignore it. There were more important things to focus on. 

“Any indication of how far out we are, kid?” Katsuki hummed, focusing on the charm in his hand. The small piece of plastic seemed to blink gently in the light. Then, Katsuki realized that the light surrounding the charm was actually pulsating. The blonde started, scrambling to stabilize the charm using his other hand as well. He brought his palm up to his eyes, still holding the little thing level. The charm blinked three times in quick succession, then gave two longer blinks. It paused, then let out five more of the slower blinks. There was a longer pause, then the combination started again. Some kinda code? He turned to Aizawa, relaying the charm’s message. The man looked pensive for a moment, frowning down at the steering wheel before jumping up and yanking the wheel into a barely missed turn. As soon as Katsuki’s soul returned from where it had fallen out of his ass, Aizawa spoke.

“Could it be Morse Code?”

“That old ass transmission thing?” Aizawa groaned but nodded. Katsuki was quiet for a moment. Then, he yelled.

“DUNCE FACE.”

The vestiges went quiet. Izuku gave a heaving cough and expelled metallic liquid from his lungs, gasping as air was finally able to flow in. Yoichi held his head up as much as he could, whispering to the boy reassurances. Finally he looked up. The six other vestiges hovering in the room stared at him. Not a sound emerged. Nana stepped forward after a pause. 

“Yoichi, are you sure? I mean what Izuku and that Kacchan kid did on Nabu is one thing, but for all of us to merge into one vessel? He can’t even handle us at 100% yet. The power that the merging would create would go way beyond that. The strain too. We don’t know what kinda fallout that’ll create.” She looked down at the boy strapped to the table. “And we don’t know if Izuku’ll make it out of here, if that happens.” 

Second loomed up behind Yoichi. “And what’s our alternative, letting that bastard make Nine into a nomu?” Nana’s expression matched his. The two snarled at each other, nose to nose. Soon the vestiges were shouting over each other. Some joined in the fight, some trying to make peace. Yoichi was completely drowned out. Banjo, who had been almost silent during the whole thing, looked down at the boy before him. 

Izuku blinked up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to catch his breath. His eyes flicked back and forth. His head strained against the strap holding it down as he tried to follow the conversation. Banjo pressed his hand down onto Izuku’s forehead.

“Hey kid, look at me.” Banjo’s voice was barely a whisper. Izuku’s eyes snapped to his, eyelids fluttering against the fluorescent light. “What do you want to do, kid?”

“What…what does merging mean?” Banjo let out a small breath and looked up. The fight was still going on. Second and Nana were at each other’s throats. En and Hikage shouted something. Third was pulling on Second’s arm. Yoichi stood away from the others, drowned out and ignored as he had been so many times before. He glanced over, locking eyes with Banjo. Yoichi glided over, one hand coming up to brush against Izuku’s cheek.

“It’s kind of like when you use a hundred percent of our power. We all sort of…merge into one being, I suppose is the best way to explain it.” 

“What will happen if we do that?”

“I don’t know, really. It’s never been done before.”

“And what will happen if we don’t?” 

Yoichi sighed, turning his head away. “If Bakugou doesn’t get here in time, then you’ll be turned into a Nomu by All For One. If you survive the process, your body won’t be your own anymore. You won’t be here anymore, just a puppet for All For One to use.” He paused. “Death honestly seems the kinder option, if you ask me.” 

“...I see.” Izuku let out a small puff of breath. The vestiges were silent. Then, the green haired boy’s voice rang out in the smaller room, stronger than it had been since the transfer of One For All.

“How do we start?” 

Chapter Text

“That’s morse code, dude.” Kaminari leaned against Katsuki’s seat, swaying with the rumbling of the car against the road. His knuckles were white with the force of keeping himself from falling over. He pressed his knee against Aizawa’s chair as the man rounded a corner, stumbling at the loss of balance.

“What’s it say?” Katsuki’s voice was curt. One of his knees kept bouncing. The hand not holding the little charm clenched. Kaminari blinked and leaned closer to the little charm, brows furrowing as he focused. After a couple of cycles, he pulled back.

“It’s a three and then a zero? I guess thirty?” Kaminari’s head hit his shoulder. “What’s the number thirty got to do with rescuing Midoriya?” Katsuki sighed and thanked Kaminari.

“Bro, you still didn’t answer my question.”

“Just give us a minute, dumbass.” Kaminari shrugged his shoulders and sidled off, walking more slowly than he would on solid ground. Aizawa slammed the bus into another turn. Kaminari went flying into one of the seats. Katsuki guessed it was Kirishima’s lap that the other had fallen into, as his boisterous voice rose in volume over the quiet din. 

The class had been more silent than usual during the ride over. Katsuki suspected that it was because this mission weighed more heavily on their minds than any had before. After all, it was one of their own, and they didn’t know why Izuku had been taken, unlike with Katsuki’s own kidnapping. 

Aizawa spoke up. “Could it mean minutes?” Katsuki looked down. The steady pulsing rhythm had changed into a new pattern. Katsuki looked up at the dashboard clock. One minute had passed. 

“I think you’re right.” The only sound filling the cabin was the thrum of the car against the road and the low rumble of the diesel engine. 

“Minutes until what, is the question.”

Every second seemed to last an hour, but flew by all the same. Izuku lay limp on the table, listening to Yoichi as he spoke.

“What’s going to happen is quite similar to when you use our full power. But you might not be totally aware. There will be eight others inside your head trying to drive. Once we coalesce it will be like we are all one being, One body for All of us.” Yoichi paused. “It won’t be pleasant.”

Izuku felt the grounding weight of Banjo’s hand still tangled in his hair. The fluorescent light above him buzzed gently in the background of his mind. He let out a shuddering breath.

“Are you ready, Izuku?” The boy nodded, closing his eyes against the harsh glare. Yoichi let out a sharp breath and nodded, reaching out for Second. The man interlaced their fingers and held out his other. Each vestige clasped hands. Yagi’s vestige form flickered as it stood between Nana and Yoichi. Banjo’s clasped hand sat on the bed next to Izuku’s head. One finger tapped against his cheek. Izuku felt Yoichi’s long finger, narrow and agile as a pianist’s, press against the center of his forehead. Izuku’s world burst into color. The last conscious thought that he had before he succumbed to the iridescent light was that someone was screaming. 

All For One sat in his office, hands clasped under his chin. One finger tapped against the plate of his respirator. Dr. Garaki stood in front of him, hands folded against his stomach. The man gestured for the other to speak with one broad hand. Dr. Garaki cleared his throat.

“Sir, the preparations on our end are ready. All that’s left is to prepare the patient and initiate the procedure.” He hesitated. “Are you sure you want to do this?” All For One hummed.

“Are you doubting my decision, doctor?” 

“I just want to make sure that you understand the consequences of this procedure.” All For One raised an eyebrow. The doctor continued, his words taking on a frantic edge. “Well, sir, it’s just that the nomuification process is still risky in perfectly healthy patients. Your son…isn’t the ideal candidate for this.” 

“Are you saying my sweet boy isn’t strong enough?”

“I’m saying that he might not survive, sir. He has an aggressive form of cancer that, looking at the data, I’d give him a few months at most, if not weeks. And if he does survive, he won’t be him anymore. He’ll just be a nomu. He won’t recognize you, not in the way that you want him to.” All For One’s shoulders tensed, the only indication that he was shaken by the news that Dr. Garaki had given him. 

“Will the procedure guarantee his health?”

“W…well yes, I suppose. And if not, we can sample lungs from different nomu specimens to replace the cancerous ones.”

“Then I am sure. I would rather have his body an empty husk but still alive than to have my precious boy gone from me forever.” Dr. Garaki sighed.

“Very well, then, sir. I’ll begin preparing him.” Just then, a loud scream ricocheted against the walls of the compound and through the open office door. Both men jumped. All For One rose to his feet, his hands clenched. It was Izuku’s voice. All For One would know that voice anywhere. The pained scream undulated and reverberated against the back of his skull, carving itself into the very bones of his cranium. 

“What. Is going. On.” All For One’s voice was a snarl. Black waves of mist, sparked throughout with red flashes, roiled off of his shoulders.

“I don’t know sir!” Dr. Garaki’s voice was desperate, shaking in fear. “He’s alone in that room!” All For One reached within and activated Search. Izuku truly was alone in that room, thrashing against his bonds. All For One’s heart cracked at the noise, at the pain his precious was feeling. 

Something blipped at the edge of Search’s radar. Frowning, he widened the field. Twenty people were closing in on them. Children playing at being heroes and the pro stupid enough to try and challenge him. All For One’s fists clenched as he recognized one of the children. 

Bakugou . That little stain, the cretin leeching off of his precious one. The terrible creature that had carved a hole in poor little Izuku’s tender heart, ripping and tearing without care to what it would do to the other. All For One growled and whirled back towards his desk. He slammed a hand down onto the intercom. 

“Prepare for a siege. Leave no one alive.” He took his finger off the button and turned to the quivering doctor. “Ensure that any equipment that you need is prepared and able to travel.” The doctor nodded, too afraid to argue, and sped off. All For One took a deep breath and strode down the hall. No one would take Izuku away from him again. He would be sure of it. 

The beacon in Katsuki’s hand blazed. It pulsed rapid fire, almost too quick to catch. Katsuki yelled for Kaminari as Aizawa slammed on the brakes. The bus lurched as he did. Startled noises echoed from the back. Katsuki paid them no mind as he fixed his gaze on the little charm. The beacon pointed straight to the building in front of them, still flashing wildly. 

That’s gotta be where Izuku is. 

Kaminari stumbled to where Katsuki sat. One hand came up to shield his eyes.

“Holy shit, that’s bright! What the hell happened?” Katsuki shrugged and shoved the beacon under the other’s nose. 

“What does it say?” Kaminari blinked to focus his eyes, squinting as he watched the pattern. His eyes quickly snapped wide, pupils pinpricks in the light. 

“It says ‘help’.” Kaminari’s voice was quiet. Aizawa scrubbed a hand over his face and stood up, making sure the bus was parked before he walked to where the students could see him. 

“Alright, everyone. This is it. Our mission is to rescue Midoriya and ONLY rescue Midoriya. We have the advantage of surprise, so don’t waste this opportunity. Earphone Jack, Froppy, and Tentacole will be on surveillance. Find where he is and report in. Bakugou, Shoto, Uravity, and Tsukoyomi will all be on infiltration with me. DO NOT engage unless there is no other choice. Do you understand?” They nodded. “Good. Chargebolt, you, Red Riot, and Pinky will find their power supply and take it out. Again, only engage if there is no other choice. Creati, you’re in charge while I’m gone because you’re the only one here with brain cells. The rest of you will be auxiliary. Secure the perimeter and rendezvous with EMS. Hopefully, only one person will actually require their services, but we don’t know. Again, and I cannot stress this enough, engage ONLY as a last resort. Any questions?” Asui raised a hand. 

“Sir, what happens if any of the teams encounter All For One.” Aizawa rubbed a hand over his eyes. 

“Best case scenario, you won’t have to. If you do encounter him, retreat immediately. Do not engage All For One. Fall back and wait for reinforcements.” He checked his watch. “I informed Nezu as to what was going on and I expect more pros will show up any minute. Fill them in on the situation as they arrive and we’ll go from there. If Midnight comes, send her in after us. We may need her.” She nodded.

Aizawa gestured to the doors and the students piled out, the teams forming clumps to quickly discuss strategy. Jirou slammed a plug into the ground and closed her eyes, listening for any sign of life. Soon, Aizawa and Katsuki were the only two left on the bus. 

“You’re on infiltration because you have that beacon and because you can create an escape route if needed. I know I already said this, but listen closely Bakugou. Do not engage anyone at any cost, alright?” Katsuki frowned. “Your sole task is to find Midoriya and get him out. You have the best chance at finding him. We’re there to make sure you both make it out. Understood?” Katsuki nodded. Aizawa clapped a hand onto his shoulder. His expression was decidedly soft, his eyes downturned the slightest bit.

“Bring him home, alright?”

“I will, sir.” Aizawa nodded. 

As the two stepped out of the bus, Jirou met Aizawa’s gaze with a frantic expression. 

“What is it, Jirou?”

“Footsteps headed this way. I’d guess around twenty people. All For One’s walking in the opposite direction and-” Jirou’s sentence cut off as she flinched.

“What’s happening, Warped Tour?”

“Midoriya’s screaming. He sounds like he’s in pain.” 

Katuski felt a stone weight drop onto his chest and roll down into his stomach. His hands shook as they clenched into fists. He lunged forwards before being pulled back abruptly. Aizawa’s hand was on his arm. He looked up to snap at his teacher but stopped at the man’s expression. Anger laced the man’s face, but only Katsuki was close enough to see the small pinpricks of tears beading at his lash line. 

“Can you give me any more information about where he is?” Jirou scrunched her face up. It was likely due to Izuku’s screams. Hearing a classmate in pain is always heart-wrenching, but Jirou had the dubious honor of being able to hear it in surround sound. The pitch alone was causing her eardrums to crack, but the mournful pain in his wail shattered her heart. She took a shaky breath. Momo, who stood beside her, grabbed onto one hand to steady the other. She held the other’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. 

“Right in front of us, through the wall.” Katsuki felt his heart seize. “It sounds like a few inches of plaster wrapped around a,” she paused,” bank vault? No, that can’t be right.”

“It is.” Katsuki ignored how broken his voice sounded, grains of sand rubbing against an open wound. “It, it’s not the first time that All For One’s done something like this.” He thought of First, of what Izuku had said and what the man had looked like when he met the vestiges. Frail and gangly with eyes so familiar that it ached, the man had kept glancing around as if he expected the walls to close in on him. He had barely left the doppelganger’s side, a sort of human safety blanket. Jirou and Momo’s eyes were round at the revelation, the taller girl’s hand coming up to cover her mouth. Aizawa blinked, and only the quick tensing of his shoulders gave Katsuki any indication that he had been rattled by the information. He took a deep breath.

“Do we have any eyes on an alternate route of egress?” Shoji stepped forwards. 

“There’s an emergency exit door about twenty feet to the left. It’s alarmed.” Jirou shook her head.

“That won’t be a problem.” She pointed ahead.

Aizawa had parked the bus in a space that was almost perfect for surveillance. It was hidden from the main entrance by the side of the large building and covered in shadow by nearby abandoned apartments. They were tricky to spot, but the class had a perfect view of twenty of All For One’s henchmen piling out of the large double doors at the front of the building.

“Fuck!” Aizawa hissed under his breath. He waved to the students, frantically gesturing for them to regroup. “All For One knows we’re here.” Voices murmured as the class processed this information. Uraraka leaned against Mina’s shoulder. 

Dark Shadow let out a cry of alarm. Katsuki yelled and shook his hand as the charm blazed, burning through the fabric of his gloves. The beacon shivered and drew into itself, before bursting out even brighter. Ten colorful strings danced out of the center, sunrays caught on film. Nine of the strings wove together, interlacing around the green one. Katsuki felt a tug on the red before being bodily shoved back. Jirou, one plug still stuck in the ground, snapped her head up.

“EVERYONE GET D-” She was cut off by a piercing boom. Every head in the area turned towards the building. Katsuki felt his heart shatter and drop to his chest. 

One For All blinked as They opened Their eyes. They raised a hand up to Their face, leather strap ripping under their grip as if it was little more than wet tissue paper. Sitting up and removing Their other bonds in the same manner, One For All turned Their head towards the pulsing warmth that They felt. It was the beacon. It was the Tenth. He had come for Them. 

Too late, Kacchan.

Icy tendrils pushed against Their back from the doorway. One For All turned Their head to face the intruder. 

Brother. All For One. Half of a whole. One cannot exist without the other. We are Ouroboros, the beginning and the end. Hello again and goodbye forever. 

The hulking figure of All For One strode into the room, stopping at the foot of One For All’s late bonds. The man, who had plastered a simpering grin onto his face, hiked his shoulders as he turned to face the other fully. His jovial expression slid into a smaller smirk, sinister and condescending.

“What’s all of this, my precious little one? Papa’s come to make it all better. Nothing and no one will hurt you anymore. That idiotic Bakugou child will never lay a finger on you again.” One For All said nothing. 

All For One advanced, rounding the side of the bed and perching on the edge of it. It was the tableau of a perfect father, a perfect brother, a perfect caregiver. Sickness and lies go hand in hand as the world comes to an end. 

“Won’t you talk to me, little dove? After all of this work I’ve gone through to bring you to me and to prepare you for your new existence, I would expect at least a ‘thank you’, if not a ‘hello, father’. Children this century simply don’t have manners, don’t you agree, Yoichi. I thought I taught you better, Izuku. That Bakugou child must be rubbing off on you. Running wild and starting rebellions. Now really, I don’t know where you find those strays of yours.” All For One reached out, hand cupped to hold One For All’s cheek. The quirk’s vessel slapped the hand away, expressionless. All For One’s mouth dropped, one side of his mouth curling up into a sneer.

“How dare yo-”

“You and I are nothing more than Ghosts, Hisashi Shigaraki.” One For All’s voice was soft. Iridescent light pulsed from where Their eyes would sit. “We have haunted this world for far too long. It is time for us to be put to rest. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. It is time to remember that, despite your power and your strength, you are still a human being. It is time to let the Wheel of Time begin to turn once more, to let the Ouroboros consume itself. It is time to be phantoms forevermore.”

One For All grabbed Their counterpart’s hand and the world lit up in blinding iridescence. 

The building imploded. 

Chapter Text

Everything was painted in weeping shades of gray: the slate sky, pale and raining ash, the heaving chunks of concrete sticking up like the ribs of some long-forgotten, dead deity decaying in the grasp of morning. Everything was quiet; concrete dust falling against the packed snow. For a moment, no one moved. Hero and villain alike stood together in awe of the situation. Some fell to their knees. One person clutched their head in their hands. Someone yelled but no one heard it. Ringing silence, so loud that it could kill you, suffocated the witnesses.

Katsuki launched forward, a silent scream on his lips. Aizawa darted a hand forwards, yelling something that the other could not hear. Katsuki evaded and dove headfirst into the rubble and decay. He clawed at chunks of concrete, nails scraped raw against the rough surface. A particularly large chunk was blasted open, tiny pebbles raining down from the heavens like rain. As they hit the ground, each made the same, mournful cry: Izuku, Izuku, Izuku, Izuku. 

Katsuki scrubbed a hand over his eyes before continuing. There was a shout from behind him, one that he ignored in favor of ripping the earth to shreds. A moment later, a multitude of hands and limbs filled the side of his vision. He gave a glance to the side but ignored them in search of his goal. Fevered haze descended over his vision, tunneling until all he could see were the sparse inches in front of his hands.

Seconds stretched into lifetimes, each beat of Katsuki’s heart marking another infinity. He faced the chasm hiding the other half of his heart.

Katsuki dug among the ruins unceasingly, until the pads of his gloves wore away and his fingers rubbed raw against the concrete. With a pained yell, he slammed a hand forwards into the wall in front of him. 

Katsuki’s gloves snagged, steel spearing up into the gaps between fabric. His rabid digging stopped suddenly. He lifted his hand. Then, he slammed it down again, this time releasing a blast that ricocheted against the corpse of the building. 

Steel. Vault. Izuku.

The unflinching surface of the metal stared back at him, matte from time but obstinate all the same. Katsuki clawed at the surface. His hands heated up. In the recesses of his mind, he thought back to when he was little. He would do the same to soothe Izuku’s aching body. Now, this procedure was being used to free him. Free from pain, free from bondage. Looks like Katsuki had some use after all. 

Slowly, the metal began to peel under his hands. Sheet after sheet warped under his blistering touch. The palms of his hands seared in pain as fire raced through his veins up to his shoulders. He clenched his teeth and continued. His pain wasn’t important; the only thing he truly gave a shit about was the person on the other side of the metal barrier, the only person who had seen the depths of his heart and who he didn’t know if they lived or died. 

With a screech and a bang, the last sheet of metal peeled away from the vault frame and slammed into the concrete spattered around it. Katsuki stepped into the vault, a mausoleum lit by a single swinging bulb. The dim flicker of the bulb pulsed against the wall as it swayed. Its light painted desolation in repose. 

Two bodies were strewn across a blood-soaked room. A weeping hunk of flesh lay strewn against the door of the vault. The gnarled, shriveled wires of a respirator was the only indication that the body was All For One and not Izuku. Katsuki felt fuzz around his ears.

All For One’s chest is fucking caved in.

Katsuki could see the cage of the villain’s ribs, still dripping viscera. An errant piece of muscle flapped languidly as it dangled. All For One’s spine had been severed, blown outwards. It looked as if his chest had exploded, as if he was the epicenter. Blood spattered behind him in streaks, looking for all the world like the rays on a child’s drawing of the sun. 

A mangled metal table creaked gently from where it was collapsed on its side. The legs were bent. The surface of the table looked warped and ruined. Ripped pieces of leather dangled over the side. One was tinged with red. His eyes traveled across the desolation until it reached the end. Where a pale hand lay flopped against the ground. A very familiar, scarred hand with stout fingers turned frail but still whole. The hand wasn’t moving. 

His heart in his throat, Katsuki stepped around the side of the table. 

Izuku lay on his side, body splayed and unmoving. Katsuki lunged forwards, shoving his fingers into the pulse point on Izuku’s neck. Seconds passed as Katuski felt for the rhythm. He breathed a short sigh as he felt the faint flutter of Izuku’s heart, rabbit-quick and far away. 

Izuku’s eyes leaked the same iridescence that had been on the beacon and that now pulsed in his eye sockets. Tears of starlight trickled down his cheeks, speckled with rainbow hues. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, tiny heaves punctuated by choking coughs. There was red leaking out of his nose, out of his mouth. It was so vibrant in comparison to the paleness of the world around them that for one moment Katsuki thought it was painted on. 

Then, the crushing weight of reality crashed against Katsuki’s shoulders. 

Katsuki let out a yell, cracked and anguished. After that, everything became blurry. From a distance, Katsuki watched as Aizawa appeared next to him and yelled for help. Emergency service personnel swarmed. Two stretchers were occupied; one was covered with a cloth. He felt Aizawa’s faraway hand drag his own from its place curled by his side and place it on Izuku’s limp one. A muttered conversation happened through an ocean of nothingness. Then, one of the paramedics began pulling the gurney away. Another gently grabbed his shoulder and guided him through the rubble. 

Katsuki looked down at the charm in his hand, still clinging on to the glove’s fabric despite being utterly forgotten in his frantic search for Izuku. Its light flickered, tired and drawn, before fizzling out. Katsuki felt his head raise from far away. In front of him, sitting on the edge of the gurney with his ghostly ass melting into his flesh leg, was Izuku. His body flickered gently, a candle close to burning out. As the group began into the ambulance that had appeared in Katsuki’s field of vision, the specter turned to him. Izuku’s ghost opened his mouth and spoke with the voice of seven heroes:

Hello, Ten.

Izuku opened his eyes to the end of land. A vast ocean stretched towards infinity in front of him. The blinding sun was obscured by a marine layer, gray clouds drifting against the  backdrop of steel waves. Waves broke softly against his ankle. Sand squelched between his toes. His body buffeted in the sea breeze. The air was tinged with the salty scent of the ocean. In the distance, a gull cried. Behind him, he could hear the rustling of sea grass in the wind. He felt his shirt, loose and soft, billow around his torso as the cuffs of what felt like sleep pants danced around his ankles. There was a rustling next to his ear that Izuku realized was his hair. Blinking, he raised a hand to his chest. There was no pain, no death sludge, not even the tickle of a cough.

Oh, he thought , I must be dreaming.  

He paused. Either that or I’m dead.

A gull cried in the distance. Then, darkness flashed in front of his eyes. A decaying room, ten thrones sitting amongst the wreckage, flickered in and out across his vision. Static lined the edges and cut through the scene. 

Eyes that shone with iridescent rainbows blinked before him before disappearing. Hands reached out to him, colored in shades of light. One hand reached out through the flickering dark, broad and stout and so achingly familiar. Izuku reached his own out, yearning for the one he knew so well. As their fingers met, he was transported to a world of destruction.

Under a gray, smoke-filled sky, slabs of concrete rubble punched their way out of the ground. Long fingers of broken metal reached towards the unseeing sun. Everything was muted. Ash rained down like a gentle snowfall. The world was blanketed, muted, bathed in shades of gray. 

He floated through the limbo of space, water churning under his feet and licking at his heels. A gurney materialized under his hands, the steadfast wheels pushing through the lapping waves. Izuku was tethered, like a seatbelt had been clipped across his lap by his mother when he was younger. The churning stopped at the gray doors of an ambulance, the siren lights flashing but making no noise. Izuku looked down.

His own face stared back at him. Or, would have had his eyes been open. Izuku’s body lay limp on the gurney, one hand strapped to his side by the gurney’s safety belts and the other cushioned against his chest. His hair flared out against the pillow, sparse curls poking out of the holes in the C-Spine collar. Izuku assumed that it was simply a precaution. Who was he to say, though? He was dead or dreaming. His body’s chest rose and fell, shallow gasps rasping with fluid. Funny how he could hear that when everything else was ringing silence. 

One of the paramedics unlatched the ambulance door and bent down to begin the process of loading the gurney into the ambulance chassis. Izuku turned just as the other paramedic, looking for all the world like the background of a silent film, reached through the boy’s chest to check the fastening of the gurney’s safety belt. He blinked at the sensation. It felt like nothing more than a weight in his chest, displacing the skin and turning his insides to smoke. The paramedic withdrew their hand and turned as another approached, guiding a familiar figure bathed in the only light the world possessed any longer.

It was Katsuki.

As soon as their eyes met, Izuku felt himself being pulled from the scene of desolation. His vision filled with flashing white as he felt his mouth open and words come tumbling out that were only one eighth his own.

“Hello Ten.”

Katsuki lunged forwards, wrenching his arm out of the kind paramedic’s grip. He sprinted to the open ambulance door. The paramedic inside, one hand on the open door, froze at the sight of him. In the distance, he could hear Aizawa call out his name. He ignored the yell. The paramedic blinked.

“We gotta go, kid. If you need medical attention, Yugi can take you to another ambulance.” Katsuki heard the footfalls of the paramedic who had been leading him catch up to the group. “This kid needs to leave now. Don’t worry, we’ll take all of you to the same place.” The paramedic’s tone was curt, but not unkind. 

“Let me go with him.” 

“I-”

“I can tell you shit about his condition, what happened, all that important shit. I know contact numbers for him. I won’t get in your fuckin’ way I promise. Just-” Katuski’s breath hitched, “Let me stay with him. Please.” His voice cracked on the last word. Something in the paramedic’s eyes softened and he jerked his head, indicating that Katsuki could come with them.” 

“ Thank you. ” Katsuki’s voice was a whisper, but the words fell out as if they had been punched out of him. He scrambled on and tucked himself into the corner by Izuku’s head. He made himself as small as possible to allow the professionals room to work. He felt the rumbling of the ambulance under his feet.

One of the paramedics began their assessment, pulling out a stethoscope and checking for a pulse. The other gestured for him to speak. 

When they had been visiting the Midoriya’s, before everything went to shit, Katsuki had sat down with Inko. He had just helped Izuku back to bed from the bathroom, where he had been heaving blood into the toilet. Izuku had lay back against his chest, choking on the fluid before it had dribbled from his lips in a long drip. Katuski had felt the pounding of the other’s heart from where their chests were pressed together. It fluttered and paused and Katsuki had felt his soul leave his body. It had been less than a second, but it had shaken Katsuki to the core. After they had cleaned up, Izuku sagging against his chest and barely able to lift his arms, Katsuki sought Inko out. His hands shook as he told Inko what happened.

“I’m so fucking scared, Auntie.” He denied the tremor creeping into his voice. “What do I do if his shitty lungs give out and he stops breathing? I just- I, I don’t- what, what can I do?” Inko had rubbed his arm, a sad sort of smile curling her lips. 

“It’s alright to be scared, Katsuki. You’re only fifteen, and yet you have worries on your shoulders that most adults would never even think of. You’re allowed to be scared, okay?” He nodded, not quite strong enough to meet her gaze. “And as for what to do, first, you’d call for help. We’d call an ambulance. If you were at UA, you’d do the same thing. If he’s not breathing, we’d start CPR until EMS gets here. 

“Then, you have to give them as much information as possible in as brief a way as you can. This is usually called ‘report’ by medical staff when given from one member of a healthcare team to another. For example, we use report during change of shift from nights to days and vice versa or from nurses to doctors and vice versa. EMS also uses report when they bring a patient into the ER, which is where I work. In healthcare, we have a standardized way to give report called ‘SBAR’. It stands for ‘situation’, ‘background’, ‘assessment’, and ‘recommendation’.

“Now you do not have to worry about ‘recommendation’ in any way, or even ‘assessment’ to an extent, because these two things need professional training to understand and make decisions with. What your job would be is to help out with background, and a little bit of situation. I’ll give you an example. Say you found Izuku on the floor not breathing. When EMS gets there, you’d say ‘I found Izuku on the floor not breathing’. That’s your situation. 

“Then, you’d tell them a little about Izuku’s medical background. This would be things like his cancer, any medications he’s taking, or anything that the healthcare team needs to know in order to safely and accurately give care. This would also be things like allergies or past nausea and vomiting. But it’s important that the information you give them is pertinent to the situation. So something like ‘Izuku broke his hand two years ago when he tripped over air’ wouldn’t be appropriate.” Inko tilted her head.

“Actually, now that I think about it, learning how to give report might be something you’d have to know as a Pro Hero, in case there are people in need of medical care. I mean it does make sens-” Inko trailed off into mumbling, one hand coming up to tap at her chin as she discussed the issue with herself. The action was so heartbreakingly familiar that Katsuki couldn’t help but laugh. Inko startled at the noise as Katsuki’s laughter died down into a small smile.

“Well damn, Auntie, now I know where the nerd gets his mumbling habit from.” Inko laughed.

“I suppose Izuku may have copied some of my mannerisms growing up.” Her smile softened into something smaller but still genuine. “Thank you, Katuski, for looking after my sweet boy. I’m so glad that the two of you have each other and love each other.” Katsuki had ducked his head, not knowing what to say. 

“Izuku was kidnapped by All For One a few days ago and we just tracked his location here a few minutes before the explosion. I found Izuku after the building exploded. He was in the rubble, unconscious. Izuku’s fifteen. He has Stage Four Large Cell Neuroendocrine Carcinoma which he’s been receiving chemo treatments for at UA for the past four months. He’s been coughing blood and doesn’t have a lot of energy. He’s started having some trouble breathing, but doesn’t use oxygen yet. No allergies.” 

One paramedic nodded as the other made a noise in the back of their throat as they slipped a blood pressure cuff around Izuku’s frail little arm, his sweatshirt sleeve bunched up around his shoulder yet still leaving ample room for the appendage to poke through. With a small pang echoing through the cavern of his chest, Katsuki realized that he was wearing the same clothes that he had been taken in. 

“Do you know the name of the chemo med he was on? Any little bit of information can help us.” 

Katsuki shook his head, ashamed at his lack of knowledge. The paramedic talking to him nodded.

“Hey, it’s okay. Is there any way that you know the doctor who’s been giving him treatment?” 

“Recovery Girl.” The paramedic nodded. 

“Alright, thank you. We’ll try to contact her at the hospital. In the meantime, if there’s anything else you think we need to know, tell us.” Katsuki nodded. The paramedic who had been questioning him turned to their coworker. The one who had been assessing Izuku fiddled with a monitor on the boy’s finger. 

“What’s his SpO2?” The paramedic squinted as the number solidified. Then, their eyes widened.

“Oh fuck. It’s seventy.”

“SHIT.” Just as the explicative had left their lips, alarms beeped. They both jumped up. Katsuki felt the stone of despair he had been holding onto sink further down, dropping into the bottom of his stomach where it bloomed and thrived, eating at the last vestiges of hope clinging to him. The paramedics set into their tasks with vigor. One, armed with a handful of wires, muttered “clouds over grass, smoke over fire, chocolate in the middle”. Katsuki blinked, quite a bit too wrung out to even begin to interpret what that meant. The other slipped an oxygen mask over Iuzku’s face, lifting his head up to pull the band behind his skull. Katsuki’s gaze trailed over Izuku.

His ghost had disappeared as soon as it had spoken. With it had gone any sign of life. He lay limp and defeated, the skin of his hand blending into the faded white of the blanket on the gurney. His head thumped in time with the ground. The C Collar kept his head from moving. The deep blue of its frame drowned Izuku in color, the yellow of the chin support seeming to glow. He looked bloodless, wrung dry of every last bit of himself. The boy’s body jostled as the paramedics worked. 

Ringing shot through the ambulance, though it seemed that Katsuki was the only one who could hear it. Then, a screeching tone cut through the fog in his mind, whirring up and down in a nonsensical rhythm. He felt his shoulder be pushed back, away from the gurney. A distant voice told him to keep his hands off Izuku for right now. As it faded out, he heard the voice mutter something about compressions. 

He watched as if from a great distance away as they pressed paddles to Iuzku’s chest. His chest jumped and the paramedics dove in. He was shocked again. Katsuki faded out. One paramedic called out their ETA.

“One minute out.”

A drone filled the air, heavy and unchanging. Katsuki looked up to the EKG. A solid line crossed the screen, straight and true.

Asystole .

One of the paramedics yelled for the other to give a medication as they started compressions. They called again to the person driving. The ambulance stopped and the doors flew open. The ambulance was swarmed with nurses and doctors, respiratory therapists, anyone who was on the Emergency Room’s code team. Izuku’s limp body was pulled out of the ambulance and quickly disappeared into the sea of bodies, each one working in tandem to bring Izuku back to life. One nurse peeled off from the crowd rushing towards the sliding doors, stepping into the ambulance. They held their hand out to Katsuki.

“Come with me, honey. We’ll take good care of your friend, alright?” Katsuki nodded, numb, and reached out for the proffered hand. The nurse led him out of the ambulance and into the waiting room of the Emergency department. In an incredible stroke of fate, the waiting room was empty. The quiet of the room seemed so loud, so daunting. The nurse pushed his shoulders and he sank down into the chair behind him. 

“Guess someone said the ‘q-word’, huh?” Katsuki heard himself say. The nurse snorted. They knelt down in front of him so that their eyes met.

“Are you hurt, hon? I’m assuming you were at the explosion site.” Katsuki shook his head. 

“We were about to go in when the building exploded. He and All For One were the only two in there. No one else was hurt.” The nurse nodded.

“Is there anyone you can call? Parents, an adult? I know you probably want to stay with your friend, but your parents should know that you’re safe.” Katsuki nodded, then paused.

“Is… is Inko Midoriya working tonight? I know you’re not supposed to give out information about patients or workers, but she’s Izuku’s mom.” The nurse gave him a small smile.

“I already gave Inko a call. She’s on her way. Once she gets here, I’ll talk to her. If you want to call your parents, there’s a phone down the hall. If you want, I can stay here with you until they get here.”

Katsuki nodded. Normally, he would snarl, insisting that he wasn’t a damn baby and that he didn’t need help. But everything was happening too much. He felt small, scared, out of control. He didn’t want to be alone right now. With a shaking hand, he pulled out his phone, scrolling to his mother’s contact number and hitting the button. The phone call picked up almost immediately.

“Katsuki? Where are you? We’re on the way to the hospital with Inko and Mr. Aizawa.” Katsuki swallowed.

“I’m at the hospital, mom. I-” Katsuki’s words were cut off by a hitching breath. He felt a vice latch around his lungs. His eyes burned. 

“Katsuki? Honey, are you alright?” Katsuki tried to respond but nothing would come out. He wheezed a breath in. Suddenly, the phone was out of his hands. The nurse pressed his shoulders down.

“Put your head between your knees, hon. I’m right here. I’m just gonna tell your mom what’s going on. Is that okay?” He nodded and followed their directions. He could distantly hear the nurse’s side of the conversation. One of their hands stroked across his shoulders, a grounding comfort. 

“In for three, out for three. Can you breathe with me, sweetpea?” The nurse counted in sets of three. Katsuki tried to match his breathing. After several attempts, he caught the pattern. “There we go. Just keep breathing. I’ve got you.” Katsuki nodded, breathing along to their counting. 

“Do you want some water, sweetpea?” Katsuki shook his head. The nurse’s hands were gentle as they took his own. They tutted under their breath. 

“Your hands are burnt, hon. I need you to come back with me so I can treat them.” Katsuki felt ice slide through his veins. 

“But-”

“I promise I will let you know when your parents get here. Your friend is with the people who he needs most right now. You shouldn’t neglect your own needs.” The nurse led him by the hand through the large badge access door into an examination room. 

Izuku was nothing more than light and sound. He existed as everything and nothing all at once. The world was a void and he was a star about to burn out. Tunneling and warping and shining and snuffing. He heard voices crying out for him. The beep of machines. The sting of needles. Electricity danced through his veins. The ocean flickered in front of him. Then nothing. Then All For One. Then the vestiges. Katsuki. 

Katsuki. Ten. Wonder duo. Twin Stars. Beloved. Kacchan. He is half of my soul. How the poets mourn that which they can never hold onto. Day is night. Everything is nothing. All we are is bullets. Like phantoms forever.

Chapter Text

There’s a certain type of silence that you won’t experience unless you’re in the realm between life and death. This silence was what flooded the dimmed halls of Musutafu Hospital’ ICU ward at four in the morning the day that Izuku Midoriya arrived. The quiet whispers of the nurses and techs on duty were interspersed with the beeping of telemetry equipment, the occasional sound of IV alarms going off signaling the need for a med change, and the quiet whooshing of ventilators breathing in tandem for those who could not do it themselves. It was a space between worlds, haunted by the ghosts of those long gone and those still hanging on. The silence was so deafening that Katsuki thought that he would drown in it if he closed his eyes. 

His time in the Emergency Department seemed a lifetime away now. The nurse had led him by the hand and talked to him in a soft, low voice that you’d use with a cornered, wounded animal. As they had bandaged his burned hands, Katsuki felt the helpless desperation of the past weeks wash over him. He felt young and vulnerable. 

He knew it was a selfish, childish thought. He was going to be a hero. He didn’t need anyone to baby him. But he couldn’t help but cling to the thought that his parents would be there soon. That they would make everything better. Hold his hand and kiss him on the forehead and tell him everything would be okay. 

The Bakugous had arrived in a furious blaze. One minute the nurse was latching the door as they walked out to chart. The next minute Mitsuki had burst into the room and bundled her son into her arms. He stayed still, then slowly raised his arms. His hands, normally so strong and sure, trembled as they fisted into the knitted fabric of Mitsuki’s cardigan. His eyes burned as Masaru came up on her other side. One of his hands scratched gently through Katsuki’s spiky hair. He pressed a kiss to the top of his son’s head. 

Everything after that was a blur. The little family walked out of the examination room and met up with Inko. Her eyes were tired even as she smiled, heavy with the weight of all her worries. The group had walked in silence to the elevator. Katsuki leaned his head against his father’s shoulder as they all rose.

Katsuki stepped out into a brightly colored hallway. Drawn figures with bright smiles danced on the walls as they walked to a solid door. There was a sign, indicating authorized access being needed. Under it, in bold, clinical letters, was the name of the unit. 

PICU .

“Wha-” Katsuki started. His head turned on its axis to face Inko. She sniffed and Katsuki could see the telltale shine of tears on her cheeks. The fluorescent light washed out her color, making the tear tracks shine on her face all the more. 

“It’s the Pediatric ICU. The ages go up to around twenty one, generally.” Katsuki felt the shattered pieces of his heart break just a bit more at her words. Izuku was only fifteen. Fifteen . He was still a child, just a kid thrown into a centuries-long war. Just a kid, scared and alone and stolen from his home, a place that nothing should be able to hurt him in. Katsuki felt a hand slide into his own as the doors opened. He looked over. Inko squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile as they walked in. Suddenly, Katsuki felt a guilty selfishness.

He could never hope to understand what the Midoriya matriarch was feeling. This was her son, her only blood. She had raised him and loved him and seen him through his darkest time. And her home had been invaded, violated. And now she was standing in what could only be one of her worst nightmares, helpless to do anything but wait to see if Izuku would make it through the night. 

Her hand shook slightly where it was clenched around her badge. Katsuki squeezed her hand back. The group entered. 

As if summoned, a nurse appeared. She looked familiar but Katsuki could not for the life of him place where he had seen her before. Despite her smile, Katsuki could see the suspicion and fierce protectiveness in her eyes. Then, her brows raised as she saw Inko. The guarded posture softened as she reached out.

“Hi, Inko! We’ve got Izuku all set up. Akane’s with him right now.” The nurse’s eyes darted over to the Bakugous. “We’ll bring you back to him once he’s settled in. Are they…” She trailed off. 

“They’re family friends. I know how strict the visitor policy is. But is there any way that Katsuki,” she gestured, “could stay with me? They were both in the explosion from earlier and I just feel terrible keeping them separated.” The nurse looked over at him searching. She seemed to find some indication of what she was looking for, because her eyes turned soft and sad.

“I’ll have to check with the doc about in-person visitors besides you in the room itself just in case, but I’m sure the other nurses wouldn’t mind a little company at the nurse’s station.”

“Thank you.” Inko’s voice had a hint of wetness as she spoke. She turned to Mitsuki and Masaru. “I hope it’s okay if I steal Katsuki for the night.” Mitsuki laughed, her voice noticeably softer.

“We figured as much. Don’t worry about it, Inko. Masa and I will be back in the morning.” She turned to Katsuki. “I’ll bring you some clothes tomorrow. Behave. Listen to the nurses and techs.” He nodded. She pulled Katsuki into her arms again. Whether it was because of the shock of the day or the fact that they were standing in the hallway of a hospital, he allowed the hug to happen. Masaru pulled him in.

“You’ve been so brave, Katsuki.” The blonde felt a burning sort of feeling bloom in his chest at his father’s words. The Bakugous pulled away and Mitsuki and Masaru left, waving as the elevator doors closed. 

Katsuki trailed behind the two women as the group entered further into the unit. They walked along the muted hallways until they reached a room near the nurse’s station. Through the glass door, Katsuki could see a nurse and a tech bustling around the bed, sparse green curls peeking out occasionally when an arm would move or someone would bend down.

“Census is down right now - thankfully - and since Izu’s a new admit, we want to keep a closer eye on him until he stabilizes a little more.” The nurse and tech exited the room, reaching for the dispenser of hand sanitizer as they left. The tech strode off to the next patient’s room. Katsuki assumed that they were going to get vitals. The nurse, spotting them, walked over. They gave a wave as they approached.

“Hey, Akane. This is Inko, Izuku’s mother.” The nurse smiled at her.

“It’s nice to meet you! I’m Akane, I’ll be taking care of Izuku for the rest of the night.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Akane.” The nurse looked over her shoulder.

“Ah, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Katsuki. He’s Izuku’s boyfriend.” Katsuki flushed at her words. The nurse whipped her head around.

“Boyfriend?!” She whisper-yelled. “No! Izuku’s too young.” She crossed her arms and frowned. Inko, despite the situation, laughed softly.

“Oh, Eiko. He’s old enough to make those decisions now. He’s not five anymore. Anyways, Katsuki and Izuku have known each other so long, it felt almost inevitable.” The nurse stared at him for a long moment before her eyes widened.

“Wait, are you Kacchan?! I remember you!” Katsuki blinked. “Izuku used to talk about you. ‘Kacchan did this at school today’. ‘Wow, Kacchan’s amazing!’ I feel like I know you so well and I’ve only met you as a five year old.” Katsuki remembered blurry visions of smiling nurses as he walked through a hallway. Katsuki shuffled, feeling distinctly seen, and not in a comfortable way.

The nurse just laughed, patting him on the shoulder. She walked towards the nurse’s station before sinking into one of the unoccupied chairs. Katsuki, his face burning, turned back to the conversation. The nurse’s sentence cut off as he gave a hesitant smile to Katsuki before turning to Inko.

“Is it okay if-”

“Oh right! You can talk about Izuku’s care with Katsuki. He’s been such a big part of taking care of Izuku over the past few months.” 

“Uh, Deku and Recovery Girl had me sign a form. So, er…” Katsuki trailed off.The nurse nodded, puffing out a small sigh of relief.

“Sounds good. Just wanted to check. Let’s head over to the nurses station.” The trio walked over. The nurse pulled a couple chairs over to one of the empty work stations before sinking into the one in front. He gestured for the other two to sit. 

“Alright. I’m gonna go over some of the information I got from report. So, Izuku stopped breathing in the ED. The staff was able to get oxygen flowing again, but he had to be intubated.” Katsuki felt cold. He looked over at Inko. The woman had her eyes squeezed shut, one hand over her mouth. She let out a choked-off sob. Katuski’s hand came up and rubbed her back, trembling at the news. 

“I’m sorry. That’s never fun news to hear. But, his oxygen is way better than it was. He was pretty dehydrated when he came to us, and had some malnutrition. That’s likely because of his treatments. The current plan is to keep him sedated for a couple days to give him a chance to regain some stamina. We’re going to have him on an NG tube for a while to see if we can get his nutrient levels to a more sustainable range. 

“Once he’s had a little time to recover, we’ll assess to see if we should continue the chemo. I don’t have a lot more information on that front - mostly we just want to make sure that we give him the proper treatment he needs. The doctors and the day shift nurses will be able to give you more detailed information about his plan of care. It’s likely, though, that we’ll put him in protective isolation.”

“Protective isolation?” Katsuki’s voice was low as he asked.

“Protective isolation is a way we can keep immunocompromised patients like Izuku safe. Wearing masks, gloves, stuff like that. We’ll go over what you need to do for that in the morning. Any questions?” The two shook their heads. “Alright, then. I’ve got to go and check on some patients. Try to get some rest. We’re gonna take good care of him.” The nurse smiled at them before standing up and walking to another patient room.

And now, Katsuki stared at the hospital wall as the dimmed light of the hallway slowly lightened as the sun began to rise. The nurses around them chatted quietly as their shifts began to wind down. More people came in - Katsuki assumed that the day shift had arrived. He watched as they smiled and talked amongst themselves, pairs eventually breaking off and sitting down, pulling up charts and discussing how the night went. 

He felt a finger tapping against the back of his hand. Katsuki looked over. Inko gave him a small, tired smile. Behind her stood the nurse from the night and what Katsuki assumed was his daytime counterpart. 

“Katsuki, the nurses are going to go over report now. Why don’t we go down to the cafeteria? We won’t be able to see Izuku until later in the morning. Miss Hana’s promised to call me as soon as we can see him, alright?” Numbly, Katsuki nodded.

The pair stood up, and Katsuki felt hot shame wash over him as Inko began to lead him out of the unit. How pathetic could he be? Katsuki was the one training to be a hero, and yet Inko was the one telling him that everything would be okay. He followed behind her.

The hallways that had seemed so daunting in the night flattened until they were nothing more than the familiar, clinical walls of a hospital. The cartoons painted on the walls of the pediatric ward faded into gentle scenes of nature, beaches and flowers and everything but the feeling of reality. 

As he passed the hallway they had taken last night, Katsuki could have sworn that he had seen a flicker of Iuzku’s ghost staring at him. His head snapped around, but the apparition faded just as it registered in his brain.

Chapter Text

Katsuki languished in the halls of the hospital. He and Inko had gone down and wasted time in the cafeteria for a few hours before Inko’s phone rang. They had rushed back up to the ward, only for Katsuki to be turned away. It’s too dangerous right now. He needs rest.

Suddenly, Katsuki was five years old again, dropping the book he held and sprinting away from his mother as they were given much the same news. He curled his hands into fists at his side. Inko began stammering out a protest, but Katsuki cut her off.

“It’s fine, Auntie. Izuku needs you right now. I’ll wait down in the lobby, alright? Call me if you need me.” The unspoken Or if I’m suddenly allowed to visit went unspoken. Inko had given him a wobbly smile and patted his cheek before following the nurse into the bowels of the PICU. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his costume pants and trudged off. 

Katsuki found a seat in an abandoned lobby. The only souls around were the quietly humming vending machines in the corner. The lobby itself was incredibly beautiful. Minty pastel walls rose as a staircase jutted out into the center of the airy space, spiraling off into the heavens. The walls held the same idyllic pictures. Katsuki sat in front of a seascape. Fronds of seagrass billowing in the coastal wind and waves crashing against a slate gray sky were captured for infinity, one fleeting moment immortalized forever. Never dying, but never quite living again. Katsuki looked away. 

Eyes met his own, so achingly familiar that Katsuki’s heart burned as they stared. Izuku smiled at him from his seat next to Katsuki, one ghostly hand held up in a small wave. Katsuki’s gut clenched.

“Izuku?”

“Hi, Kacchan.” Izuku’s smile fell into something softer and more intimate, tinged with sadness. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

One of Katsuki’s hands came up to his face, hovering over his mouth. It clenched into a fist. His knuckles pressed into the tender skin of his lips, the soft skin blanching under the pressure. Katsuki felt a gentle coldness wash over his skin, pressure in the shape of a hand wrapping around his clenched fist. Katsuki’s eyes were fixed on his hand. He couldn’t bring himself to meet the specter’s gaze. He wasn’t strong enough, worthy enough.

A chill brushed against his cheek. 

“Kacchan, please look at me.” He shook his head, eyes shut tight. Against his will, his lip trembled. “Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice cracked.

“I can’t.” Desperate pressure slammed against his ribs. Chill wrapped firmly around his face, tilting his chin up. Katsuki’s eyes fluttered open. Izuku’s eyes, so familiar and warm, burned red with the force of his feelings. Katsuki felt cold fire bloom in his stomach. Even with Izuku safe and in the care of those who could help him, all Katsuki could do was make him cry. He was no better than the spoiled brat that he had been in middle school. 

A ghostly thumb traced gently across the ridge of his cheek. “Please don’t cry, Kacchan. It wasn’t your fault. And you saved me.”

“I lost you , Izuku. If I had just been a bit faster, a bit stronger-” Izuku cut him off. 

“You didn’t lose me, Kacchan. You found me. I’m safe because of you. Don’t accuse yourself of things that you haven’t done, okay?” Katuski’s head nodded once, slowly. “I’m here with you, alright? I’m here.” It felt like Katsuki lungs were ripping themselves open, pouring out into the open to expose the tender flesh of his still-beating heart, ripping apart at the seams without the only one who could hold it together. Burning wetness trickled down Katsuki’s cheek, the cold of Izuku’s ghostly fingers making the sensation even more pronounced. 

The apparition leaned forwards and pressed his lips gently to Katsuki’s forehead. Katsuki shuddered at the touch, feeling unworthy of the gentleness. As Izuku began to pull away, the blonde felt a quiet desperation clutch his heart. His hand came up and tried to circle around the other’s wrist, only for it to close into a fist. Katsuki ignored the shattered pieces of his heart as he realized that he couldn’t touch Izuku. His hand trembled.

“Don’t go. Please come back to me. Don’t go where I can’t follow.” Katsuki’s voice was a rasp, barely audible but still echoing through the early morning light of the abandoned waiting room. 

Izuku’s voice was wet as he spoke, even through his trembling little grin. “Where would I go without my Kacchan, silly?” Katsuki laughed, though it sounded to his ears more like choking. Izuku’s hand brushed through the tangles of his hair, icy nothingness feeling more comforting than all the gold in the world. “Rest, sweetheart. I’ll stay with you.” 

Katsuki’s eyes fluttered shut. The last thing he saw before blackness overtook his vision was Izuku, Izuku, Izuku. 

Izuku’s world dissolved around him, nothingness into nothingness. As Katsuki’s sleeping face - so peaceful after its previous turmoil - faded away from his vision, Izuku turned towards the growing sounds of the crashing ocean. He was back where he had been, before his world had ripped apart into infinity. Funny how the memories had blurred, neverending pools of thought that he passed through without understanding. He had been a vouyer into his own mind, into Katsuki’s journey from the explosion site to the waiting room of the hospital. And now, he was faced with the infinite sea. 

His toes sunk into the sand, tiny grains of shattered rock so soothing against his aching feet. The wind rustled behind him. The ocean was so loud that the sound of someone walking towards him was almost drowned out. Izuku looked up as the presence stopped next to him, sinking down to sit in the sand by his side.

“Hello, Nine.”

It was One For All. Not Yoichi or the vestiges, but the living embodiment of nine generations of inherited power. They were an otherworldly being. Pulsations of light coalesced into a humanoid form. Iridescent rainbows danced around where their head would have been. Despite not having eyes, it felt to Izuku that the being could see into his very soul. 

One For All flashed and pulsed, before their body shifted into one that was so familiar to him it hurt. 

His mother reached up and brushed an errant curl away from his face. Their eyes glowed unnaturally, and their movements were stiffer than hers, but Izuku felt his heart clench with longing all the same. 

“You’ve been so strong, child. It is time for you to rest.” 

Izuku felt his head press against their palm. “I still have so much I need to do. 

“I am so sorry, my sweet.” 

“I…I can’t be a hero anymore, can I?”

“It depends. I must leave you, leave this world, so that I may lay the other parts of me to rest. And I cannot take you with me, not until it is your time to go. And you must choose whether or not you will stay. Pain and suffering await you once you wake up, but so does so much joy. No one will fault you if you want an end to your pain. Few will rejoice, but it matters not.”

“How will I know what the right choice is?”

“You won’t. Perhaps you never will. But neither option is bad, nor is it completely good. It simply is.”

Izuku looked down at his hands. One For All, wearing his mother’s skin, brought him into an embrace.

“Thank you for saving me, child. I know that, whatever you choose, you will be incredible.” 

Izuku cried in the arms of One For All, grief weighing heavy in his heart. 

Katsuki snuffled as he felt something poking insistently at his cheek. With one hand, eyes screwed tightly shut, he batted at the offending presence clumsily. The pressure withdrew, incomprehensible muttering breaking out like a halo around his head. The rumble of voices around Katsuki rose and fell, until one crescendoed over the rest.

“Please let him rest, Kaminari. Katsuki has been here all night.” That sounds like Auntie, Katuski’s drowsy brain replied. Then, Katsuki shot awake as another voice barked out.

“Listen to Inko, kids. The brat’s been through a lot.” Although the tone was softer and more fond, Katsuki could recognize those brash tones anywhere.

“The fuck does it matter to you, hag?” Katsuki snarled, his voice losing most of his bite as he yawned and rubbed one eye. Katsuki’s eyes opened to reveal the sight of the entirety of Class 1A - sans Izuku and himself, of course - splayed across the waiting room. Kaminari was in his periphery, one finger still outstretched. Katsuki snapped at it, lips curling into a small grin as the blonde boy flinched away from his teeth. Katsuki felt a small smack to the back of his head.

“Leave your friends alone, brat. They came all this way.” 

“Dumbass should know better than to provoke me. Zuku’s not here to stop me from killing anyone.” 

Uraraka piped up from his left side. “Oh, pack it up Captain Murder Mittens.” At least three different people wheezed. Katsuki saw Shoji bring a hand up to cover his masked face, although multiple snickering appendages floated around him. Inko walked forward, and a whispered reverence washed over the scene. She sat down on Katsuki’s right side, by his good ear. 

“You can visit him, if you’d like. ”

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s head snapped over to Inko. He almost didn’t want to believe it. The opportunity seemed too good to be true. But the Midoriya matriarch smiled gently at him, cupping one of his hands in her own. 

“Do you want to go see him?” Katsuki blinked, then nodded. He was afraid to speak, to break the moment and have to come hurtling back into a painful reality. Inko nodded in turn and stood up, pulling Katsuki up and behind her as they departed with waves to the class. Despite the height difference between them, Katsuki felt like a child, safe and content and excited. The elevator doors closed in front of his eyes and he let out a puff of breath. 

“They took him off the ventilator for now.” Inko’s voice was quiet. “He kept fighting it, so they’re hoping that a simple mask will be okay.” Katsuki nodded, squeezing her hand. 

The doors to the ward opened quietly. The atmosphere was different than it had been in the darkness of the night. It seemed friendlier and less intimidating, but sadder in equal measure. As much as the darkness can bring about imaginary enemies, it can also soften reality. 

Their footsteps echoed against the walls. Katsuki cringed at every deep clank of his boots. Inko squeezed his hand. 

“I think that hospitals make their walls with a special material so that sound travels. You could argue that it’s so the staff can hear even the smallest noises of decline, but I think it’s mostly to intimidate visitors into behaving.” Katsuki, caught off guard, choked on a snort. Inko stifled a laugh. 

Their moment of happiness dimmed as they approached Izuku’s room. One of the nurses, one that he didn’t recognize, waved at them as they approached. The nurse was wearing a surgical mask and was in the process of peeling off a pair of gloves. 

“Hey Inko. And you’re Kacchan, right?” Katsuki let out a little groan. He had become oddly protective of that nickname. Having anyone except Izuku call him that felt wrong. It felt almost like a betrayal. The nurse laughed softly and shook their head. “He’s been asking for you two.” 

The pair stopped, and looked at each other. In tandem, their heads snapped back to the nurse.

“He’s awake?” Katsuki’s voice was small, almost a whisper. Like in the lobby, he didn’t want to shatter the moment. Inko’s hand trembled in his own. The nurse nodded, their eyes cringing as they smiled behind their mask.

“Yeah, just a couple minutes ago. I was actually about to call you. Perfect timing, huh?” Distantly, Katsuki felt his head nod. His stomach churned against the walls of his abdomen. Can I… He almost didn’t want to ask, to feel that disappointment, that unworthiness. The nurse tilted their head. 

“Inko, you can head on in. I need to talk to Mr. Kacchan for a moment.” Inko looked over at him, her brow furrowed. Katsuki gave her a shaky nod. She smiled at him and pulled away, reaching for the isolation cart that stood outside of the doorway.

The nurse turned to him. “Don’t worry, hon, you’re not in trouble. I just need you to change before you go in.”

“Hah?” Katsuki couldn’t help his defensive tone. The nurse held their hand up.

“You were at the explosion site, right?” Katsuki nodded. “Alright. So Izuku’s on protective isolation right now. Our main concern is preventing infection. My worry is that your current clothes might have a lot of bacteria on them. I’m assuming that you don’t have a change of clothes, so I’m going to give you some scrubs from the hospital, alright? When you go home, you can keep them if you’re so inclined.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks I guess.” Katsuki flushed. With everything that had happened, he had forgotten that he was still wearing his hero costume. Now that he was aware of it, he could feel the tackiness of the sweat seeping deep into the fibers of his clothes. Foreign embarrassment curdled in his stomach. 

The nurse’s eyes blinked before they gestured for him to follow them.

Katsuki was led through the PICU to a room labeled ‘Staff Only’. He followed the nurse into what was revealed to be a changing room. The nurse gave him an appraising look, then turned to the wall of scrubs behind them. The nurse thrust a bundle of clothing at him.

“Sorry, hon, I had to kind of guesstimate your size. Get changed and meet me outside. I’ll bring a bag for your clothes." The nurse paused. "There's also a shower in the back.” Katsuki nodded and the nurse shut the door behind them. His ears were tinged pink, but 

With robotic movements, Katsuki pulled off his hero costume and proceeded to have the awkwardest shower he had ever experienced. Speeding through the motions, he quickly stepped out, dried off, and stepped into the scrubs. They were loose and comfortable, if a little scratchy. He made a quick detour to the bathroom in the corner and splashed water on his face and forearms before gathering the bundled up clothing and pushing the door open. 

The nurse appeared, holding a ‘patient belongings’ bag open. He dumped the clothing into the bag and with fluid movements, the nurse pulled the drawstring and handed him the bag. As they walked back to Izuku’s room, Katsuki held the bag of clothes close to his chest. The bag crinkled under his grip. 

The door to a hospital room had never seemed so intimidating to Katsuki. He had been in them countless times, whether from missions gone wrong or other such causes. The sight of a hospital room should not fill him with such trepidation. But it did. Ironic, really, as Katsuki could see Totoro painted on the left wall facing the bed. The nurse patted his shoulder.

“It’s okay to be scared, honey. Just don’t let it stop you from seeing him.” Katsuki nodded and set his shoulders. He took a surgical mask from the nurse’s outstretched hand and looped it around his ears. The nurse took the bag from his slackened hand and tucked it under their arm before pushing gently against Katsuki’s shoulder blades.

“Go,” they said, “he’s waiting for you.”

Feeling distinctly like he was walking into battle, Katsuki entered Izuku’s room. 

The first thing that Katsuki’s eyes were drawn to was the steadily beeping telemetry monitor hooked to the wall. His eyes traced down the meandering cord before getting tangled in the lines of the IV. Some of the bags were steadily dripping while others were deflated, drained of their contents. From his vantage point, Katsuki could just make out the words printed on some. 

Lactated Ringers.

Vancomycin.

VP-16.

Methotrexate.

A carefully balanced cocktail meant to keep Izuku on this plane of existence. His eyes drifted down from the IV pole, following two of the lines through the humming pump until they hit the IV catheter. 

18 gauge, Katsuki thought, that had to hurt. 

His eyes trailed up the pale expanse of arm, familiar freckles almost transparent in the harsh  fluorescence of the room. Two lines disappeared under the stark hospital gown, grazing against a protruding collarbone as they descended. Pale fabric hid a cage of ribs. Translucent skin merged neck to head. A jawline made sharp from treatment and exhaustion cut a line through the scene, hollowed cheeks dotted with freckles pulled taught against the ridges of bone making up the skull. A plastic mask pressed against the pale face, covering a nose and mouth.

Izuku’s eyes were closed, but they fluttered open at the heavy sound of Katsuki’s boots against the linoleum floor. They crinkled, and Katsuki could see the faint hint of a smile beneath the mask. It fogged up and cleared rhythmically, following the pattern of the other’s breathing. A hand, more bone than skin, shakily raised off the bed. The fingers curled and straightened. Katsuki was pulled forwards. His own hand clasped around the other’s, ice bleeding into the skin of his palm.

Katsuki sank down, perching on the edge of the bed. It dipped under his weight, so much so that Izuku’s body tilted towards him. Katsuki’s thumb stroked against the gnarled ridge of Izuku’s knuckles, so sharp and distinct under the pad of his finger. Izuku’s hand squeezed his own. 

I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.

“Hey,” Katuski croaked. His voice sounded rusted, an old steel door opened in the dead silent of night. 

“Hey yourself.” Izuku’s reply was muffled, barely audible. The hand in his shivered, tiny tremors that felt like earthquakes in the stillness of the room. Katsuki squeezed his hand before leaning forwards and pressing his lips to the ridge of Izuku’s knuckles. The starch plastic of the surgical mask grazed against his mouth, and Katsuki wished he could take it off, take away all the pain and suffering the other was going through and just hold him in his arms. Izuku shivered, his whole body twitching with the force. Katsuki snapped back, afraid that he had over stepped, had hurt Izuku somehow. The other’s eyes shut and his nose twitched as the shaking continued. 

“Sorry,” Izuku whispered, “I’m just cold. No need to worry.”

“I’m always gonna worry about you, dumbass. ‘S my job.” Katsuki stood and, careful to not disturb the lines Izuku was connected to, swept the other into his arms. He sat heavily on the bed and shifted until he and Izuku were side by side. Izuku made a small noise at the back of his throat and Katsuki froze, terrified. Then, Izuku melted into the burning heat of the other. His hands fisted into the scrub shirt, clenching with all the strength that they had left. Katsuki bracketed the other in his arms, one hand stroking up and down the other’s arm.

The soothing, slow beep of the telemetry monitor lulled Katsuki into sleep. He drifted off, his heart once again whole.

When Izuku’s nurse came back from lunch, they were greeted by the sight of the two boys curled around each other.

Chapter Text

Katsuki was eventually sent home. Izuku needed to rest, and so did he. The undulating rumble of the car underneath his body lulled him back to sleep. His parents whispered from the front, voices too soft to be heard in his fucked-up ears. In the haze, Katsuki felt himself be lifted into the air. A fuzzy mass of brown bobbed gently above him. There was a rustling near his ears before his world plunged into an ocean. He felt the brush of a finger at the skin behind his ear as warm metal brushed against the outer shell of his tragus. Sensation faded as Katsuki slipped fully away. 

It was the first restful sleep that he had since Izuku had been taken. 

School started again, although it felt disjointed. The class was almost too aware of the gaping hole torn in their lives. Izuku’s empty desk loomed at the corners of their vision. Even Aizawa had stopped for a moment. He had sighed before turning to the class.

“With the excitement of the past few weeks, it’s understandable that things may feel off. Just know, we will proceed as we always have. Midoriya is safe and with the people who can help him the most.” The response from the class was subdued, but there nonetheless. Aizawa let out a breath before turning to the board and beginning the lesson.

The students of class 1A threw themselves into their work. As if on a divine mission, grades rose and training became the highlight of the day. There was little of the nonchalance that had plagued their more lackadaisical members, just stone-cold focus. Katsuki was almost impressed.

Katsuki quickly realized why his classmates were attacking each lesson with a feverish drive. He had heard Kaminari talking to Kirishima in the locker room after class one day. 

“You’ve really been killing it lately, bro. I’ve never seen you more focused.” Kirishima’s voice was light and admiring. Katsuki could almost hear the shrug in Kaminari’s reply. 

“Well, yeah man. When Midoriya wakes up, I want him to not have to worry about anything other than recovering.” Kaminari sighed. Katsuki heard the creak of the old locker room bench and assumed that Kaminari had sat down. “He’s always been such a strong guy. If anyone could beat Endeavor for number one, I’d bet all I had on Mido. He’s always been there for us. I mean, he brought down All For One on his own when he could barely stand. He shouldn’t have to worry about anything or anyone except himself right now.” 

“Aww, dude, that’s so manly.” Katsuki could hear the wetness in Kirishima’s voice. “I’m with ya. Let’s make it a world where Mido won’t have to worry about anything except getting better and kissing Bakubro.” 

Katsuki, leaning against the lockers, fought off a smile even as he felt the tips of his ears warm. 

He pulled out his phone.

All Might My Beloved

Kacchan :3: did u forget to tell the class uwoke up

Zuku <3: …perhaps

Kacchan :3: u dumbass 

theyre worried

Zuku <3: >:(

no i hada funnyplan

ill tell u when u get here

Kachan :3: jfc fine nerd

Zuku <3: <3<3<3

Kacchan:3: u too

Katsuki let out an amused puff of breath through his nose. Fuckin’ nerd.

Izuku had been asleep when Katsuki arrived. The blonde couldn’t quite fight off the fond grin slowly making its way across his face. He was so ensconced in blanket that the only indication he was under there was a pale strip of forehead. Katsuki huffed a quiet laugh then sank down into the vacant chair. The quiet of the room was interspersed with the steady beat of Izuku’s heart, broadcast through the monitor. 

“Kacchan,” Izuku croaked, “I’ve fulfilled my childhood dream.”

Katsuki looked up from the homework sheet that he had been working on. He blinked as his eyes refocused, the haze from reading for a long time fading slowly as the image of Izuku’s tired grin sharpened. The boy was sitting up in bed, a faded All Might blanked - sanitized to the ends of the Earth and back again - wrapped around his shoulders. What was left of his patchy curls was tucked up into a cheerful red beanie. A few loose strands of hair curled out from under the brim just in front of his ears. His gown was a pastel blue today, the faded collar peeking up near the delicate line of his throat. One hand was tucked under the blanket; the other held the fabric closed at his chest. Izuku’s chest rose and fell in an even, measured time signature. 

The bulky oxygen mask had been traded for a nasal cannula, hidden from view by a blue surgical mask. Katsuki felt the loops of his own mask dig slightly at the skin behind his ear. He ignored the sensation, angrily subduing his mechanoreceptors from suggesting he even adjust the thing. He laid the sheet aside - Izuku took precedence over calculus - and leaned forwards.

“Yeah? How’s that, nerd?” Katsuki held a light tone, teasing with the question. Inside, Katsuki felt confusion and a smidge of apprehension curl into the base of his stomach. 

With a flourish, Izuku shot his blanketed arm out, holding a water jug out in shaky victory. Katsuki stared, dumbfounded. 

It was one of those big ass cups you get either at hospitals or as novelty purchases at amusement parks. Clear plastic topped with a gray cap and a stiff bendy straw. Izuku’s hand shook as he held it out for Katsuki to look at, but he beamed at the other. Katsuki had the distinct feeling of seeing the sun come out from behind the clouds. He blinked, then turned to Izuku.

“ This is your childhood dream?” Katsuki couldn’t be bothered to hide the incredulity in his voice. Izuku just nodded, still grinning at him. His arm finally gave out. The water jug flopped onto the bed with a soft thud, barely audible over the beeping of the heart monitor. “Wha-”

“Do you know how long I’ve lusted after one of these, Kacchan?” Izuku was hunched over, looking at the jug in his hand with wide eyes. One spindly finger traced gently over the cup’s lid. “Years.” Izuku brought the jug up to his face, pressing the thing to his cheek. The tiniest squish of flesh pressed out from the impact point. Izuku stared at him wide-eyed, in the serious way that only drunks or people on pain meds could. 

In a voice that sounded more like the burdened groan of an old cemetery gate than any words, Izuku whispered as if telling the most important, dangerous secret he could think of. “And now, it’s all mine.” 

Katsuki snorted. He was so fucked. Had it been anyone else, Katsuki would’ve smacked them. But seeing Izuku doe-eyed and so at peace had Katsuki’s heart melting in his chest. He was a fucking simp, sue him. He shook his head, even as he stood up to perch on the side of Izuku’s bed. 

“Well, I’m glad that all of your dreams have come true. We gotta talk about the class.” Izuku nodded, his brows furrowed over his still too-wide eyes. His mouth pinched into a half-pout. Gods but Katsuki was weak for this boy. “What’s this plan of yours?”

Izuku bolted forwards, a wild grin spreading across his face. He tucked his head into Katsuki, chin nestling into the crook of the other’s shoulder. In a tremulous, excited whisper, Izuku relayed his plan to Katsuki. He had to bite his lip to fend off the laughter bubbling in his chest. 

“That is the single dumbest thing I’ve ever heard and I can’t believe I didn’t think of that sooner.” Izuku’s laugh reverberated through Katsuki’s chest, nestling into the bony points of his ribs and lodging itself into the crevices of his heart. 

Class 1💅

0830 AM

Sonic: Good morning fellow classmates!

Let’s use this day to its fullest and go plus ultra!

Metformin: iida….bestie

Its too early

Sonic: >:(

Kirby: IIDA AELRKGJFAOSI

Pikachu: my pronouns are he, but not him…

Cause ill never be him

guyfieri.jpeg

Sonic: Thank you for informing us, Kaminari!

I support you!

Cardigan B: oasdkjfnoweij

1620 PM

Deku: selfie.jpeg

I lived bitch

Sky Mama: MIDORIYALKSDNF;

Chapter Text

The chaos of Izuku’s reintroduction to the ‘living world’ - ie. Class 1A - aside, the two boys quickly settled into a comfortable sort of routine. Katsuki could wake up and go to school, then head straight to the hospital where he would stay until the end of visiting hours. He would complete his various assignments while Izuku napped, and try to get him to eat a bit more when he was awake. 

Izuku’s day was simultaneously regimented and free. Every four hours, someone would come in and take his vitals. At specified times, one of the nurses on the unit would do their assessments and pass meds. Doctors and their student ducklings would come in once a day and do their rounds. The first time that Izuku was awake for rounding he had half hidden under his covers at the sudden intrusion of people, not expecting the noise nor the unblinking stares surrounding him.  

Respiratory therapists came in twice a day for him. They would check his breathing and his oxygen, and do breathing treatments. Once, Katsuki had been in the room just as they had started. The blonde boy had been wrangled into an N95 mask. Izuku had thought that it was adorable, the way that the other had pouted at him. His spiky hair was squashed against the thin elastic band of the mask. Katsuki had grumbled under his breath, his broad arms crossed over his chest. The gray curls of medicated air reached languidly around the open circles of the mask Izuku wore. He could almost feel the medication aerosolizing in his lungs. His chest felt looser and clearer, though the pain did not fade. He knew that it was temporary, but it helped all the same.

Between visits from healthcare professionals, Izuku was free to do as he pleased so long as he didn’t leave bed without an escort. Had it been any other time, the green-haired boy would have languished under these restrictions. Now, it was more than easy for him to comply. The ever-present ache in his chest was calmed by staying sedentary. He was free to drown in reruns of All Might: The Animated Series if he so chose. He ended up splitting his time between napping, watching anime, and fiddling with his phone. 

Every one of his classmates texted him each day. Some would update him on what was going on in the world. Others would just chat. Kaminari and he were having a long-winded conversation spoken entirely in memes. It was their way of staying in his life without risking it. Izuku’s classmates had been barred from visiting him. The staff had been worried about contamination. Katsuki was the only exception, though that was due to him being so involved in Izuku’s care. His mother, too, was allowed.

Inko Midoriya seemed to have doubled down on her insistence of being with her son. She would come to visit him almost daily. Usually, she popped in early in the mornings before her shift down in the ER started. Izuku had been worried for her. Was she taking care of herself? In the walls of his hospital room, Izuku had little room to do much else than think. 

Katsuki had eventually wrangled the stress out of him. He had huffed a small laugh and told Izuku that his parents were watching out for his mother. The trio were still staying at UA while the police wrapped up their investigation. Mitsuki and Masaru had also been talking about having Inko move in with them after the investigation finished. The wound of Izuku’s abduction was still fresh, although he was in safe hands. 

Late in the afternoon on a Thursday evening, Izuku was visited by two police officers. Izuku had been dozing, half-awake in the low light of evening. The soothing sound of Katsuki’s pencil scratching against paper mixed with the low beeping of his heart monitor. The low whooshing of Izuku’s oxygen wove in with the other sounds. Quiet coughs cut through occasionally, but they weren’t the heavy, choking ones that Izuku had been experiencing in the first few days he had been in the hospital. It was, nevertheless, peaceful as the two boys simply shared space and existed within each other’s orbit. 

The tranquil quiet was interrupted by a knock at the door. Two men entered. Katsuki looked up, eyes narrowed. He recognized one of the men, Detective Tsukauchi.

“Pardon the intrusion. If you’re feeling up to it, Midoriya, we’d like to get a statement from you regarding the events surrounding All For One’s…current situation.” The detective rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as he ended his sentence. Katsuki looked over at Izuku.

The boy’s eyes, more aware than they had been just a few minutes before, still dripped with exhaustion. Today had been hard on him, and Katsuki was reluctant to let him do anything other than rest. He looked over at Katsuki, his head tilted in question. Katsuki shrugged.

“Okay.” Izuku’s voice was raspy as he spoke. “Please, come in.”

Tsukauchi entered, crossing the room in two large strides and stopping at the foot of Izuku’s bed. His hands fell gently against the footboard. The other man stood tall and leaned in the doorway of his hospital room, arms crossed and back leaning against the open frame. Both men were clad in overcoats and medical masks, though the tall one standing behind Tsukauchi didn’t quite pull his up all the way.

 The plasticine fabric bunched under the tip of his nose, high enough that a quick glance wouldn’t catch the mistake, but low enough that the outside edges of his nostrils flared over the white mask border when he breathed in. None of the other people in the room noticed, as the man stayed just inside the doorway as Tsukauchi entered. He turned his back on the three and stood taller, head turning from side to side. 

“I know we’ve met before, Midoriya, but I’m going to introduce myself and my quirk. Do I have your permission to record our conversation?” Izuku nodded. “Thank you.” The detective’s voice was soft and warm. The skin around his eyes crinkled into laugh lines as the man smiled behind his mask. The man’s voice held its gentle cadence as he introduced himself for the purposes of the recording. They started out with a few test questions, such as Izuku’s name or age. The detective let out a sigh as the warmth fell from his eyes.

“Can you tell me, in your words, the events that happened when you were with All For One?”

Izuku fiddled with his hands as he hesitated. Katsuki leaned over, linking their hands together. He squeezed the other’s hand, brushing his thumb over the top of crooked joints. Izuku’s hand squeezed weakly in his. Slowly, Izuku began to explain his side of the story. 

Katsuki’s hand in his grounded Izuku. When he felt his voice shake, when his throat felt tight and wet, when his hands shook from the remembered fear, his unrelenting presence at his side a stable beacon in the roiling sea of memories. Izuku’s voice shook as he finished, his last memory nothing but the burning of One For All through his veins. 

The room was quiet for a moment. Katsuki’s hand trembled as he squeezed Izuku’s. Just the thought of that happening to Izuku had Katsuki’s blood run cold. Katsuki could barely even think of Izuku going through that alone. He brought their clasped hands up and pressed his lips to scarred knuckles. Izuku’s mouth trembled even as he smiled. His face quickly fell. He pulled his hand away from Katsuki, fingers locking around themselves. 

“Detective.” Izuku fiddled with his hands. “Am I…a murderer?” His voice was small. Izuku curled further into himself, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders all but swallowing him. Katsuki lurched forwards.

“Deku-”

“I am, aren’t I?” Izuku looked up, locking eyes with the detective. There was a burning sorrow in his eyes. Tsukauchi started, unconsciously reaching a hand out. The detective knelt down so that he was lower than Izuku.

“Midoriya, why would you think that?”

Tears beaded at the corner of Izuku’s eyes. “I killed All For One, didn’t I? I don’t remember doing it, but he’s dead, right?”

Tsukauchi hesitated. “Yes, he is. But-”

“Then it’s my fault. It has to be.” Izuku sniffled. “There’s no other explanation.” 

“Midoriya, please listen to me.?” Izuku looked up. “You are not a murderer. You are a hero. All For One was one of the most dangerous men on the planet. He slaughtered countless people, and would have continued to do so if he wasn’t stopped. He was a cruel and vicious man who was going to hurt you. All that you did was defend yourself. And in doing so, you’ve saved Japan and the world from a terrible evil. Please do not hold onto this guilt, as it is not yours to bear.” 

Izuku’s chest heaved as he started crying. He let out small, smothered gasps, as if he was trying to hide his tears. Tsukauchi tensed, unsure of what to do. One of Izuku’s hands went to his face, wiping messily at the tears running down his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Izuku mumbled.

Katsuki sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Izuku towards him. One hand trailed softly against his back. Izuku sniffed messily.

“Don’t apologize, nerd. It’s a shitty situation, and you’re allowed to be upset.” Katsuki’s voice was soft in his ear. 

“He’s right, Midoriya. And on behalf of the police and, if I may be so bold, the country,” Tsukauchi bent into a bow, “Thank you for what you’ve done.” The officer at the doorway bowed as well. As he stood up, they could see the skin of his eyes crinkle as the man smiled behind his mask. 

Izuku’s mouth trembled even as he smiled at the men. He opened his mouth to reply, but only coughing came out. He bent over with the force of it. Izuku could feel dripping wetness crawl up his throat as he struggled to control his breath. Katsuki’s hand at his back was a stable grounding force as he tried to breathe. 

“Look.” Katsuki’s voice was soft. “I think you guys need to leave. Deku’s getting worked up, and it ain’t good for him.”

“Of course,” Tsukauchi said, “We’ll take our leave now. All the best to you both.” The door shut behind the officers with a resolute click. Izuku’s hacking coughs petered out. He slumped against Katsuki’s shoulder, panting. One large, warm hand brushed against his forehead. 

“You’ve been worried about that shit for a while, haven’t you?” Izuku closed his eyes, trying to find his voice. Eventually, he simply shrugged, burrowing further into the warmth that Katsuki’s frame provided him. “Doesn’t do any good to hold that shit in, nerd. You ain’t a killer. That’s my job.” Izuku’s shoulders shook with a small and silent laugh. The boys were quiet for a moment. Then, the door opened. The hinges creaked quietly as it swung. One of Izuku’s nurses stood at the doorway. 

“That time already?” Katsuki sighed.

The nurse nodded. “Sorry boys. Visiting hours are almost up. Izuku, your mom’ll stop by after her shift is up, but it’s pretty busy down in the ER so it won’t be for a while.” Izuku nodded.

“Thanks,” he croaked. His voice was raspy after his coughing fit.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow, alright nerd?” Katsuki whispered. Izuku grinned at him.

“I look forward to it, Kacchan.” The blonde grinned at him and leaned forward. He cupped Izuku’s masked face in his hands and pressed his covered lips to his forehead. Izuku could feel the heat of his mouth even through the plastic fabric cover. One of Izuku’s hands came up and wrapped around Katsuki’s wrist, squeezing. Katsuki’s eyes met his own, the crimson color seeming almost washed out in the fluorescent light.

“Tomorrow.” Katsuki sighed. “Sleep tight, baby.”

“You too, Kacchan.” Katsuki threw a smile back at him as he collected his school things. Even through the mask, Izuku could see the downturn of his expression once he thought he was out of Izuku’s line of sight. Something that felt almost like guilt churned in his stomach. Katsuki was giving up so much to come sit with him every day. He was missing out on extra training opportunities, uninterrupted study time. How could Izuku be so selfish as to ask him to keep giving so much of him when he himself could offer so little in return? 

By the time that Izuku looked up to tell Katsuki to stay at school, not worry about him, he was already gone. The beeping of his telemetry monitor seemed almost mocking in the deafening silence that followed.

Chapter Text

As the school year began to wind down, Katsuki had a rare extra day off. The teachers had wanted them to have a few extra study days for the finals coming up the following month. He woke up and went on his morning run, lapping the perimeter of the school. Before everything happened, Katuski would run this each morning with Izuku just a few paces behind. Katsuki was surprised at how he had adjusted to the now solitary activity. He ignored the guilty feeling of betrayal curling in his gut. 

Languid gray wisps of smoky fog curled around Katsuki’s legs as he ran forwards. It seemed that the world had almost been painted in shades of gray. The darkened sleet slab of the sky dimmed the colors of the world. The campus almost felt haunted. Katsuki shuddered. 

The walls of Heights Alliance loomed over his head as Katsuki approached, the walls painted a dim rusty color. The color of dried blood. The color his hands had been painted with as he knelt in the rubble of All For One’s base. Katsuki felt sweat bead up out of his palms. He dried them on the jacket he wore before reaching for the handle of the door. 

The creak of the door hinges echoed eerily in the empty hallway. It was early enough that Katsuki was the only one awake. Katsuki felt the faint curling of nausea in his stomach as he stepped over the threshold. Something is wrong . The thought wouldn’t leave Katsuki’s head. It gnawed at the back of his brain, digging its hooks into his gray matter. He stomped up the stairs, flinging open the door to each floor. The sound of his shoes was muffled as he paced through the hallways, pausing at each door before prowling forwards. 

The slow beams of the covered sun spread across the floor as Katsuki paced. He was on his floor and passing his own door when a voice called out to him.

“Bakugou?” It was Kirishima. The boy leaned on his doorframe, eyes half closed and hair loose around his shoulders. He rubbed at one eye as he yawned. “What’s going on?” His head thunked against the door frame as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Katsuki scowled. “Nothing. Fuck off.” 

“C’mon, Bakugou,” Kirishima groaned, eyes rolling, “Talk to me. Even you’re never this ornery this early in the morning. Did something happen?” He paused. “Is it Mido?”

“It’s none of your business, Shitty Hair.”

“It is if it’s stressing you out this much, man.” Kirishima pushed off the door frame and ambled over to Katsuki, gripping his shoulder. Katsuki half-heartedly slapped his hand away. “Hey, I may not be able to help, but holding your stress in can’t be healthy. What would Midoriya think?” Katsuki scowled. 

“It’s nothing.”

“Baku-”

“I mean there’s literally no reason why I’m feeling off. It just happened.” Kirishima’s eyes softened. “I feel like something’s wrong even though I know it’s bullshit. It’s stupid.” 

“It happens man. And your feelings aren’t stupid. Here, if we both go downstairs, I’ll make you some tea. It helps Midoriya when he’s anxious.” 

Katsuki nodded, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his pants. Kirishima grinned at him before turning to the elevators. Katsuki ambled behind, his body deflated from its earlier tension. 

“...Thanks, Kirishima.” Katsuki’s voice was low, almost too quiet to be heard. Eijiro said nothing, but smiled to himself. 

The elevator doors closed behind them like a coffin, quiet and cold and absolute. 

The tea in Katsuki’s hands leaked sweat as he held it. He couldn’t feel the heat soaking into his skin - the calluses on his hands were too tough for that. Instead, he felt the muted trickle of moisture against the rough surface of his palms. The kitchen was filled with a soft sort of silence. Katsuki sat at the little table in the kitchen. He remembered the days that he spent before the holidays, Izuku curled up into one of the chairs. It seemed so long ago that the two were together in this room. 

Kirishima sat across from him, leaning on his elbows. His head slumped against one fist, eyes drooping closed. Despite his dour mood, Katsuki felt a small smile pull across his face. Kirishima was a good friend. Katsuki was lucky to have him. 

He took a small sip from the cup clutched in his hands. The tea burned the tip of his tongue. Muted mint rolled across his tongue and through his nose to curl sleepily into the crevices of his brain. He thought inexorably of Izuku.

His phone chimed. Normally, Katsuki’s phone was dead silent. But with Izuku in the hospital, he had changed the settings. Kirishima blinked at him sleepily.

“Phone’s goin’ off, bro.”

Katsuki sighed. “It’s Izuku.” 

“Does he have a different text tone?” Katsuki flushed.

“He’s, er, the only one with a tone.” 

Kirishima blinked, then grinned. “That’s cute as fuck, bro.”

“Shut your fucking mouth. If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” 

“Secret’s safe with me, man.”  Katsuki nodded, the tips of his ears tinged pink. He picked up his phone. The screen shone at him. With the early morning light filtering in through the windows, the flash of the screen wasn’t as painful as it could have been. 

It was a text from Inko Midoriya.

Auntie

Auntie: Good morning, Katsuki!

I’m sorry to ask this, but would you mind calling Izuku today?

One of the nurses told me that he wasn’t feeling well.

Katsuki: Course, Auntie.

Thanks for telling me.

Good morning to you too.

Katsuki frowned, tapping one finger against the side of his phone. He could feel the worry, the stress from this morning waking up from its subdued slumber and writhe in his stomach. He felt ice and fire run down the front of his chest. Kirishima blinked, then seemed to wake up from his stupor. His eyes widened from their almost closed position.

“Bakugou?” Katsuki’s hand clenched around his phone. “You okay?”

“‘S nothing, Shitty Hair.”

“Are you sure, man? Cause for a second you looked really spooked out.” 

 “Leave it.”

Kirishima groaned. “No man, talk t-”

“Kirishima. Please.” Something in Katsuki’s tone stopped the redhead in his tracks. His voice had cracked the slightest bit on the last word.

“...Alright, man. Just, don’t try to handle everything on your own. We’re here for you.” Katsuki nodded, but didn’t say anything. He drummed his fingers a few times against the table. The mug clinked against the ring on his hand as Katsuki brought it to his lips. He drained the cup, wincing as his tongue burned with the heat of the water. Kirishima’s head slumped back over his closed fist, his eyes lidded but more alert than they had been. Katsuki cleaned up his mug and the kettle before he paused. He opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but thought better of it and shook his head. 

“If you’re tired why don’t you lay down on the fucking couch, dipshit?” Kirishima’s eyes slipped closed as he snorted. The redhead pushed himself up and crossed the room before clapping a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. The blonde bristled under the touch, though his snarled words held little of the heat that Eijiro was used to. Katsuki wrenched his shoulder out of Eijiro’s grasp and stomped towards the door. He looked back. His eyes held something young and vulnerable in them.

“Thanks, Ei.” He left. Kirishima was left standing in the middle of the kitchen, alone and exhausted. 

The ringing noise of the phone set Katsuki’s nerves alight. It rang once, twice, three times. Katsuki’s foot tapped against the floor, impatience making the phone’s ringing stretch out into infinity. Katsuki, on the verge of a breakdown, was about to hang up when the line clicked. A sleepy, raggedy voice answered that knocked Katsuki’s lungs out of his chest and filled the empty cavity with dripping relief. 

“Kacchan?” Katsuki cleared his throat. His eyes felt suspiciously hot, although he tried to ignore it. 

“Hey, Zuku. How’re ya feeling? Your mom said you weren’t feeling well.”

Izuku let out a little cough, then a sniffle. “My head hurts. But it’s okay now, cause I’m talking to Kacchan.” Katsuki could hear the forced lilt of his voice through the phone, the happy tone grating against the walls of his throat. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Kacchan. How are you this morning?” 

“I’m good, baby. Just went on a run. Think you’d be up for a visit later today? I don’t want to overwhelm you if you’re not feeling it.” 

“I’d love to see Kacchan!” Izuku’s voice croaked out of his throat, the sound seeming almost painful. Katsuki, despite himself, felt a grin threatening to spread across his face. 

“Then it’s settled. Get some rest, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you, Kacchan. See you soon.”

“I love you too.” The line clicked as he hung up. The nerves settling in his stomach didn’t completely vanish, but they abated, soothed by hearing Izuku responsive and safe. 

To get to the hospital, Katsuki had to take two buses. The first few times, a UA staff member had driven him, back when the kidnapping was still fresh in everyone’s minds. He had gotten the all clear from Nedzu, though, to make the commute by himself. He liked it better this way, in any case. The rumbling of the bus wheels against the pavement hummed from the soles of his feet throughout his body, soft rumbling soothing the pounding thoughts in his brain. On the way back, the vibrations soothed the ache in his chest from seeing Izuku and having to leave again and again. 

The bus stopped and people changed places. Katsuki let his head thump against the window of the vehicle while it was stopped. The glass was cool in the dim mid-morning light. Katsuki let his eyes slip closed in a rare moment of vulnerability as the bus trundled on. The route was the same, every person getting on or off at the same stops and the same times. Three more minutes before Katsuki needed to pay attention. 

It was weird to him to think about the people going about their daily lives around him. They each had their own stories and their own pains, and the only thing that connected them all together was the quiet of the bus chassis and the inexorable beating of waves against the shore of time. Without looking, Katsuki reached up to pull the cord for his stop. The bus rolled to a stop, brakes hissing. He strode to the bus door and with a half-hearted wave to the driver, stepped out into the parking lot of the hospital. As he reached the entrance, he stopped short as he saw a familiar pair of green eyes.

For one aching second, he thought that Izuku was standing outside the hospital. Fear and aching longing flooded his chest. Then, he realized that it wasn’t Izuku, but Inko. The woman’s hands were folded across the strap of her purse as she turned to thank the driver in the car behind her. As the car pulled away from the curb, Katsuki could see the UA license plate gradually shrinking in his eyeline. Their eyes met as they turned to each other. 

“Good morning, Auntie,” Katsuki said. The woman smiled at him and opened her arms. As if possessed, Katsuki surged into her embrace, almost melting against her frame. One of her hands came up and patted against the back of his head, nails scratching a soothing pattern into his scalp. 

“Good morning Katsuki,” Inko murmured. They pulled away from each other and the woman inclined with her head. “Shall we head in?” Katsuki nodded and they walked through the sliding doors of the hospital. After checking in at the front desk with the security guards, the pair made their way up to the unit Izuku was staying on. 

It was a rare day that both Katsuki and Inko could come visit at the same time. However, they got the okay from Izuku’s care team for both of them to be in his room at the same time. Before they went in, Katsuki saw the nurse’s furrowed brow and pinched expression. It felt like an omen.

Izuku looked worn out. His eye sockets looked almost hollowed out with how dark his eye bags were. Wisps of his hair peeked out of his hat, the strands looking almost lifeless. He looked pale and almost bloodless, except for the high flush against the sharp ridges of his cheekbones. Each breath that the boy took seemed to stutter. The nasal cannula that had been tucked under a surgical mask had been replaced by a face mask. The view of his mouth was obscured by weak little puffs of gas, steam curling from the holes. His eyelashes fluttered against the taut skin of his face. For a second, Katsuki feared that the other wouldn’t wake up. 

Then, a sliver dull green so dark it looked blackened with pitch cut through the purpling bruise of Izuku’s exhaustion. Eyes blinked sleepily, never raising further than half-mast. Even so, the boy grinned at the pair as his vision swam into focus. 

“Hi mama, Hi Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice cracked, so soft that the pair strained to hear it. “I didn’t know you both were coming today. Isn’t it your day off, mama?” 

“It is, my baby. I wanted to spend it with you!” Despite Inko’s cheery voice, Katsuki could see the minute tremor of her lips, the sudden shine across her eyes. Katsuki stepped forwards and pulled one of the two chairs in the room next to the bed. With one hand on her arm as a guide, Katsuki steered Inko into the chair before pulling up his own. Izuku’s head flopped to follow their movement.

“Hey, Freckles,” Katsuki said, his voice low in his throat. “How’re ya feeling?” 

Izuku shrugged. The movement seemed sluggish. “About the same. My chest hurts, and so does my head. But it’s okay now that you two are here.” He smiled. “My two favorite people in the whole world.”

Inko sniffled, though Izuku didn’t seem to notice. Perhaps he couldn’t hear the noise over the rush of oxygen from his breathing treatment. Katsuki reached out and patted his ankle, rubbing his thumb gently over the joint. 

“Nowhere we’d rather be, nerd.” Izuku’s head flopped again. It sank into the pillow. Inko leaned forwards and grasped Izuku’s hand. The spindly fingers curled around her palm, crooked and scarred, but still there. 

Someone knocked at the door. Inko and Katsuki looked over. Two people entered the room. One was a tall woman in a lab coat. The other was someone Katsuki recognized, Todoroki’s older brother, Natsuo. Katsuki blinked in surprise.

“Good morning,” the woman said, “My name is Dr. Saroyan. I am one of the residents in this unit. This is Mr. Todoroki, one of our med students on rotation for the next few months. Is it alright if he joins me?” Katsuki looked over at the other two. Inko shook Izuku’s shoulder.

“Is that alright, sweetheart?” Inko’s voice was soft. Izuku blinked at his mother, then looked over at the two standing near the doorway. 

“Oh, you’re Natsuo, right?” Izuku’s head tilted as he spoke. Natsuo bounced on the balls of his feet before looking over at his teacher. She inclined with her head. 

“Yep, that’s me kiddo. You’re Shoto’s friend, right? We met during your internship with Endeavor.” Izuku nodded. 

“Why are you here, Natsuuu.” Izuku’s voice slurred a bit at the end. The two medical professionals exchanged glances. Katsuki felt a splash of ice in his stomach. 

“Well, Midoriya, I’m a student, studying to be a doctor.” Natsuo’s voice was more hesitant. Katsuki noticed the shift from the formal tone Dr. Saroyan used to something simpler. “Part of my classes is to go to hospitals and follow other doctors and work with them so I can learn how to be one. Right now, I’m with Dr. Saroyan, who’s been taking care of you. It’s kind of like your work studies.”

“So you’re gonna help me get better?” Izuku’s voice held such a touch of innocence. Natsuo smiled at him. 

“That’s the hope, Midoriya.” Izuku grinned at him. Dr. Saroyan stepped forwards. She turned to Inko.

“Just as a safety precaution, I need you to confirm who you are.” They did so, and Dr. Saroyan nodded. “Is it alright if I discuss Izuku’s care with you both?”

“Yes,” Inko replied.

“Excellent.” Dr. Saroyan strode over to a computer in the room and logged on before pulling up Izuku’s chart. “Yesterday, we took Izuku down for an MRI to check on the progression of the tumors on his lungs. The scans came back this morning.” She pulled the imaging up on her computer. Two pictures appeared. One had white speckled throughout it, large splotches of pale against dark. The other looked clearer, more patches of dark than white. 

“Izuku’s tumors have shrunk from their original size.” Inko gasped behind her hand.

“That’s good, right?” Katsuki asked.

“Yes, Mr. Bakugou is a very good sign. That means that Izuku’s treatment is working. In my opinion, I believe that surgical intervention is a viable option.” 

“Whass tha’ mean? Whassa tumorr?” Izuku’s voice piped up from the bed. His eyes were unfocused and hazy. Dr. Saroyan’s brows crinkled behind her face mask. Natsuo stepped forwards.

“The tumors are the white stuff in the picture.” Natsuo pointed. As he talked, Katsuki could see the furrow in his brow deepen. “These guys make it hard for you to breathe. So we want to get these fellas to go away. They were really big, which meant that you were really sick. And because they were so big, we couldn’t just take them out because it wasn’t safe. We gave you some medicine, and they got smaller. Now, one of the surgeons might be able to get them out safely.” Izuku blinked, but didn’t respond. After a moment, Dr. Saroyan continued.

“Thank you, Mr. Todoroki. You also have the option to continue with chemotherapy.”

“What risks are there regarding the surgery, Doctor?” Inko asked. Despite the tremor in her hands, Katuski heard how firm and calm her voice was. Clear, concise, and professional. Katsuki distantly wondered how any of them would survive without Inko Midoriya knowing what to do and what to ask.

“With that, I would want to consult with the surgical team for case-specific risks. However, in general there is a risk of hemorrhage, as well as a risk of infection.” Inko nodded. “If you decide to go through with the surgery, the team will come in for evaluation and consultation. The decision ultimately lies with them on whether they will operate. Now, I will give you time to discuss whether or not surgical intervention is the route you want to go with. Once I have your answer, I will get in contact with the surgical team and we can figure out what our next steps are.”

“Do you have a time frame for when this would happen?”

“Again, for specifics, the most accurate answer would come from the surgical team. However, I don’t believe it will happen within the next week or so. Izuku mentioned that he wasn’t feeling well this morning, and his temperature was slightly elevated. We would want to resolve that before we proceed with any major surgery. That brings me to our other reason for this visit. We’re going to do some assessments to see if we can find the cause of what’s causing Izuku’s fever. It may be stress, but it could also be an infection. We’ll send some blood to the lab.” Inko stood up.

“Thank you, Doctor. And you as well, Mr. Todoroki. Katsuki and I should step out, to give you some room to work.” She looked over at him. Katsuki glanced at Izuku. He looked so lost on the bed, eyes bleary and half-hazy. Something in his gut told him not to go, but he pushed it down. He grabbed Izuku’s hand.

“Auntie and I are gonna get some coffee, okay? We’ll be back. Your doctor and IcyHot’s brother are gonna stay behind and do doctor shit.” Katsuki heard a snort from behind him. Izuku looked up at him, doe eyes so wide and trusting.

“Promise you’ll come back?” Katsuki’s heart broke at how vulnerable the other sounded. One of his thumbs traced gently over Izuku’s crooked knuckles.

“I promise, baby. And I always keep my promises.” He leaned forwards and pressed their foreheads together. Izuku’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the touch. Katuski pulled back and pressed a kiss to his forehead through the crinkling mask before stepping away. He followed Inko out of the room. Something deep and primal clawed at his chest as he turned his back on Izuku and left.

Chapter Text

There was something going on with Izuku’s bloodwork.

That was what the doctors had told them when they returned to the unit. Inko clutched her hands to her chest, face twisting. Katsuki felt his hands clench into fists. 

“Mr. Todoroki is in there with him at the moment. Izuku’s confused and disoriented. He seemed to forget that you two were just here and kept asking for you.”

“I talked to him just this morning and he seemed all there. He was fine when we got in. What happened?”

“I’m not quite sure. If he was alert and oriented this morning, then that’s quite a decline in a short amount of time. I’m going to order a head CT. It could be the pain meds, but it could be something more serious.” And fuck if that didn’t leave a hollow feeling in his chest. Katsuki had no doubt that all three of them were thinking the same thing.

What if it spread to his brain?

Dr. Saroyan sighed. “If Izuku declines, he’s in the best place possible. We’ll figure out what’s going on. He’s in good hands.” She smiled, in what Katsuki guessed was supposed to be a reassuring manner. 

“Can we go in to see him?” Dr. Saroyan opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by loud, frantic beeping. All three of their heads snapped over to Iuzku’s room. Through the open doorway, they could see Natuso lunge across the room, his lab coat snapping behind him. Katsuki felt icy fire pour down his throat.

Izuku convulsed on the bed. Big, jerking motions twisted his limbs into painful shapes. The image of Izuku seizing was quickly covered, nurses and techs flooding into the room. Dr. Saroyan shot up and turned to them. 

“Does Izuku have a history of seizures?” Inko and Katsuki shook their heads. The doctor’s teeth clenched. “Stay here. The staff will take care of him. This…may not be something you two want to see.” With that, she ran to the room. The door swung shut behind her. 

Katsuki was frozen. Inside his mind, thoughts ricocheted. Each was worse than the last, a spiral of worst case scenarios. He looked over to Inko, almost robotically. 

Inko was shaking. Her hands clutched each other. They trembled. Quiet tears rolled down her cheeks. Her eyes were fixated on the door. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she was going through. Inko saw awful things every day, people in terrible states of sickness, people dying, and was able to deal with each new thing with composure and grace.

But it’s different when it’s your own child.

Katsuki swallowed, though his throat felt as if it had been shredded by glass. He put one hand on her shoulder. She didn’t react for a moment, then turned to face him. Her eyes were wide, afraid.

The eyes of a parent losing their kid right before their eyes.

Katsuki shook the thoughts from his head. He couldn’t give her a smile, but he squeezed her shoulder.

“Let’s go get a drink.” Numbly, Inko nodded. They stood up and left the unit, the frantic chaos growing smaller behind them as the doors to the unit closed. 

The droning ring of the phone line set Katsuki’s nerves alight. He leaned against one wall, the device held to his ear. 

“C’mon. Fucking pick up.” The line clicked.

“I’m at work, brat. What do you need?” Mitsuki’s voice was sharp in his ear. Katsuki took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to form the words in his mind. The silence stretched on.

“Katsuki, if this is some kind of prank-”

“Mom?” Katsuki hated how weak, how vulnerable his voice sounded. The line went silent for a minute. 

“Katsuki? Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Mitsuki’s brash tone was abnormally soft, gentle in his ear. The lilt of her voice screamed concern, which Katsuki supposed was warranted. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had called her mom. Katsuki took another shaking breath.

“Something’s wrong with Izuku. He-” Katsuki’s voice cut off, choked. He thumped his head against his closed fist. “Auntie could really use someone with her. A friend. Not me.” Katsuki heard frantic rustling through the line. The click of high heels against linoleum echoed in his brain. Mitsuki yelled something that Katsuki didn’t hear. He heard low, indistinct murmurs, and the cadence of his dad’s voice. 

“We’ll be there in ten minutes.” Mitsuki sounded winded. “Do you want me to stay on the line?” Katsuki shook his head, then remembered that they couldn’t see him.

“No. Just focus on driving. We’re in the cafeteria.” He hung up and looked back out over the sea of tables. The cafeteria area was quite empty, only a few people dotting the worn booth seats. With a sigh, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked back over to Inko. 

The woman sat nursing a cup of tea that she seemed to have forgotten about. After they had left the unit, Katsuki had needed to steer her into one of the seats. Her movements had been robotic, almost on autopilot. Her eyes were wide, haunted, empty. Katsuki knew that the woman wasn’t really there; rather, her mind was three floors above with her son. He sank down into the chair opposite him. His own cup of coffee waited for him. He watched as a faint curl of steam rose up into the air. He thought, distantly, of the curling vapor of Izuku’s mask. 

Katsuki didn’t realize how long he had been staring at the cup in his hands until he heard the sound of someone running in heeled shoes. He looked up at the clicking sound.

Mitsuki Bakugou strode towards them. She had a blazer jacket thrown over her arm. Her hair was ruffled from her haste. Behind her, Masaru jogged through the halls. They paused for a moment, looking around the cafeteria. Then, Masaru locked eyes with Katsuki. He gave his son a small smile before gently holding his wife’s elbow. She started, before looking where he was. 

Mitsuki pulled away, her gait changing from a stride to an awkward half-jog, balanced on the balls of her heeled shoes. She went straight to Inko’s side, sinking down to her side. She hooked an ankle around the leg of a nearby chair, pulling it behind her and flush to the other’s side. Masaru approached more slowly, pausing behind Katsuki’s chair. One large, broad hand clapped down on his shoulder as the scrape of a chair echoed in his ear. Masaru sank down next to him. 

Masaru pulled away for a moment before slinging his arm across Katsuki’s shoulders. Slowly, Katsuki rested his head against his father’s shoulder. He closed his eyes. The soft sound of Inko sniffling across the table felt muted. If he stayed like this, maybe he could pretend that everything was okay. That Izuku wasn’t sick and maybe dying. That All For One had never taken him. That they were nothing more than two kids growing up side by side, hand in hand. He felt the slow rub of his father’s thumb against the skin of his bicep. 

“You’re not alone, Katsuki,” his father murmured, “We’re here. You don’t have to go through this alone.” Katsuki didn’t reply. He couldn’t find the words he needed to say. Instead, he pressed his head more firmly into Masaru’s shoulder. 

The group stayed in the empty cafeteria for what felt like hours. Hospital staff came and went. Visitors sat down for a meal in between visits to loved ones. Over the intercom, a series of chimes announced that a baby had been born. One minute later, a Code Blue alert came through the speakers. The location of the code was garbled through the old speakers. Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder who it was. 

A life for a life. So goes the Wheel of Time.

Inko’s phone rang twice before she picked up. The hand holding the phone shook as Inko pressed it to her ear. It was the most reactive she had been since they had left the unit. The Bakugous exchanged glances.

“Hello? Yes, this is Inko Midoriya. His mother, yes.” Katsuki couldn’t hear the person on the other end of the call, just Inko’s replies. The woman straightened up. “Really? Okay, we’ll be right up.” The line clicked as the person hung up. Inko lowered the phone from her ear, her other hand coming up to hold on as well. She pressed the top edge of the device against her lips, her brows furrowed. Mitsuki placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Inko?” Mitsuki asked, her head tilted to the side. “You okay?” Inko’s nose twitched. She nodded.

“Izuku’s okay.” Katsuki felt light, like a heavy burden had been taken from his shoulders. The empty, hollow feeling in his gut faded at her words. The elder Bakugous breathed twin sighs of relief. 

‘“Do they know what happened?”

“A virus. They don’t know how he got it, but his body doesn’t have much in the way of defense right now. He was starting to get septic.” Inko sniffed, her lower lip trembling. “We haven’t let many people visit because of how fragile his immune system is. Anyone could have given him the virus without even realizing it.” Mitsuki and Masaru consoled her, hands rubbing slowly against flesh and cheeks pressed to cheeks. Inko barely seemed to notice. Her eyes were downcast, glaring at her clenched hands. She glanced up for a moment, catching Katsuki’s gaze.

Tears beaded at the corners of her red eyes. The delicate skin was puffy and bloated, her under eyes looking like bruises. As their gazes met, Katsuki could see her face crumple. His stomach squeezed painfully as he recognized her expression. Desperation, anger, sorrow and… guilt?

Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault. 

She thinks it’s her fault , Katsuki realized. And, as he thought about it, Katsuki could see why she would think that. Inko would visit Izuku as much as she could, coming before her shifts at the ED and popping her head in during her lunch break. It had brightened Izuku’s day up so much to see her. But Inko was exposed to so much every day in the Emergency Department. It would be so easy for her to have become infected or even be carrying a virus without realizing. But then Katsuki remembered the vague image of a man looming in the doorway with his mask bunched up under his nose. 

A slow, hesitant hand cut through the air. 

“Auntie,” Katsuki rasped. He hardly recognized his own voice with how rough it sounded. “ ‘S not your fault.”

“K-katsuki?” Her chest hitched as she spoke. 

“Some cops came to question Zuku last week. I think one of ‘em had their mask under their nose. He stayed in the doorway the whole time.” 

“Katsuki, I know you’re just saying that to-”

“It’s true, Auntie,” Katsuki snapped. He could feel curls of anger he had thought long buried writhe in his stomach, hell-bent on defending the woman in front of him. “You sure as shit didn’t do this. How many times have you come before work, when your clothes are clean and you haven’t been knee deep in patients? How many sets of hospital scrubs have you used after your shift just to keep Zuku safe? I’d bet that you use the changing room shower more than the nurses here ever have. You’ve been running yourself ragged just to make him smile. You know your fucking isolation precautions. You know how to keep him safe, and you did. This isn’t your fucking fault.”

“Katsuki that’s enough,” Mitsuki snapped, her voice barely restraining a snarl. Katuski ignored her. Instead, he looked to the woman tucked in his mother’s arms, her chest heaving with badly smothered sobs. 

“It’s not your fault,” Katsuki said. His voice was softer, barely louder than a whisper. Masaru shared a long, searching look with his son. He turned to his wife, murmuring over Inko’s head. She nodded after a moment. Masaru pulled away from the two. Mitsuki pulled the sobbing woman closer to her side and, murmuring softly into her ear, led Inko away from the two. 

Masaru sighed. “Let’s take a walk, Katsuki.” 

“It’s not her fault.” Katsuki felt burning in his chest, an aching need for them to know that Inko wasn’t to blame. If anything…

It was his fault.

“I know, Katsuki.” He paused. “And it’s not yours, either.” 

“Like hell it isn’t.” He was there. He could’ve stopped it. But he was too slow, too stupid to notice. Inko had placed her trust in him, and he had failed. His fault, his fault, his fault.

“Katsuki, listen to me.” Masaru placed a hand on his shoulder. He bent at the waist slightly so that their eyes were level. “This. Was not. Your. Fault. Tell me. When the police talked to you two, where was your focus?”

“But tha-”

“Where was your focus, Katsuki?” He had never heard his father speak this firmly. In a quieter voice, he spoke.

“...On Izuku.” 

“Exactly. Your focus was on Izuku. Where it was supposed to be. You did everything you were supposed to. You can’t control other people’s actions, Katsuki. The only thing you can control is the actions that you take, the things you focus on. And you did everything right . This isn’t your fault.”

Katsuki looked down. As much as he wanted to lean into his father’s words, have him absolve Katsuki of his sins, he couldn’t help the lingering guilt cramping in his stomach. He was supposed to know better, be better. He was training to be a hero. He was supposed to notice even the smallest of details, be vigilant to his last breath. Something must have shown on Katsuki’s face, because Masaru’s face softened and he drew his son into his arms. 

“I know it’s hard to believe, and that you’re still blaming yourself. But I know it’s not your fault. And I know Izuku would think the same.” Katsuki tensed in Masaru’s arms. “He wouldn’t blame you Katsuki, and I know he’d be heartbroken if he heard that you were blaming yourself.” Now a different kind of guilt curled in his gut. He knew exactly what his father was trying to do, and he hated that it was working so well.  

Slowly, he nodded against his father’s chest. His eyes were screwed shut, burning pinpricks at the corners. His chest hitched once. Katsuki let out a slow, shaky sigh. Masaru said nothing, rubbing slowly against his back. Once Katsuki’s breath came slow and smooth without hitching again, the two pulled away from each other. Katsuki sniffed and nodded. He couldn’t quite meet his father’s gaze, and felt a small drop of embarrassment race down his spine. Masaru grinned and ruffled his hair. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Masaru said. And despite his better judgment, Katsuki let himself believe his father’s words. “Let’s go find your mom and Inko.” Katsuki nodded and the two walked to where Mitsuki and Inko had disappeared. 

“He’s still in a postictal state right now, so don’t be alarmed if he doesn’t react as he normally would.” Katsuki took a moment to process Dr. Saroyan’s words.

“Does that mean we can see him?” Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to care about the desperate hope in his voice. Dr. Saroyan smiled at the group. 

“Yes. You can go in to see him.“ She paused. “All four of you can, in fact.” Inko let out a small sob. Natsuo, who had been standing next to Dr. Saroyan, stepped forwards and offered his arm to her. 

“I’ll walk you over, Ms. Midoriya.” Inko nodded, her eyes filled with tears. No one could fault her for her reaction, nor her one track focus. As the two departed, Katsuki could see that Inko had eyes only for her son. Katsuki smiled at the reunion he could see through the window. The smile fell a little as he thought longer about the doctor’s words.

“Why is he allowed more visitors now?” Katsuki’s voice was hesitant as he spoke. He almost didn’t want to hear the answer, afraid of what it could mean. Dr. Saroyan paused. 

“We’ve started an IV immunoglobulin drip to bolster his immune system. That should help his body while the virus runs its course. And, after discussing his care with some of my colleagues, we felt that having his loved ones able to see him would be…better for his spirits. We want him to be surrounded by people who love him right now.”

Though her tone was light, Katsuki could hear the words left unspoken clear as day. Izuku’s lungs had looked clearer in his last chest X-Ray, so much so that everyone had been biting down the hope of planning for discharge. This virus may have just tossed those plans into the ocean.The doctors wanted to give them time as a family…in case this time was goodbye for good.

Chapter Text

Seeing Izuku limp and barely reactive was never pleasant. With the weight of Dr. Saroyan’s words, it took all that Katsuki had to step into the other’s room. His eyes darted to the wall where the painted Totoro stood, eyes more searching than that billboard bitch from The Great Gatsby. It seemed mocking almost, ironic in a cruel sort of way. Here Izuku suffered, had his life all but stripped away from him because cells didn’t know how to grow. Yet the cartoon animal grinned all the same. Katsuki pulled his eyes away from the painting. Half-dreading turning his eyes to Izuku’s bed.

Green met red as the boys’ gazes locked. Izuku’s eyes were half-shut, weighed down and delirious. His gaze was hazy and unfocused as he blinked up at Katsuki. But Izuku’s face split into a lopsided grin as a dim light of recognition glinted in his eyes. One hand, the hand not cradled in Inko’s, rose up and batted half-heartedly at him. Katsuki’s heart clenched. He’s got no fucking right to be that goddamn cute right now , Katsuki thought. As if pulled by a string, Katsuki shuffled forwards to Izuku’s free side. He barely noticed the extra chairs in the room with how focused he was. The sounds of the room, of his parents and Inko’s soft conversation, faded away as Katsuki sank down and grabbed Izuku’s free hand. 

Izuku’s head lolled on his shoulders, eyes drooping further. Katsuki reached out and, as if in a trance, brushed the back of his hand against Izuku’s cheek. The touch was so soft that skin might not have even met skin, but Izuku’s shoulders let out a tiny quake as the touch registered on his skin. His eyes slipped fully closed, the oxygen mask on his face shifting a little as his head fell. Katsuki felt a rush of fondness coursing through his veins. He reached over and shifted Izuku’s pillow behind his head before settling back down into his chair to wait. 

The time passed in syrupy moments, slowly then all at once. Izuku slept for a while, his body recovering from the shock it had been through. The adults milled around, barely comprehensible to Katsuki. At one point, he thought that they might have stepped out, but he wasn’t sure. He didn’t quite care, either. Nurses and techs would float through his vision at sporadic intervals. 

Katsuki kept his vigil. It felt almost like an apology to him. Despite what his father had said, Katsuki had failed at protecting Izuku. How could he do any less? How could he pay for his crimes? How could he be absolved when the only person capable of handing it out was asleep in front of him? He didn’t know. But he would be the hero that Izuku needed, even if it was too little, too late. So he stayed. Alert, aware, and alone. 

Katsuki felt something squeeze his hand. The pressure was so faint, so weak, that he barely noticed it. Afraid that he had just imagined it, Katsuki squeezed back. The pressure came again, holding on a bit longer. Hardly daring to breathe, Katsuki’s eyes traveled from where they stared to Izuku’s face. 

Deep, glassy green flashed as Izuku’s eyes blinked. His nose twitched under the oxygen mask. His free hand came up, the meat of his palm rubbing tiredly at the skin around his eyes. His cheeks were still flushed, his eyes still bruised and sunken, his skin still bloodless and chilled. But he was awake. He was alive.

Izuku’s eyes finally focused on Katsuki. The expression was so much more aware than it had been earlier, though Katsuki could see the glassy sheen of fever glinting against the darkness of his irises. Izuku’s face broke out into the same smile he had given Katsuki earlier, only bigger and more aware. The delicate skin around his eyes crinkled, and Katsuki could see the minute pouch of flesh pushing against the plastic of the oxygen mask. 

“Hi, Kacchan,” Izuku croaked. His voice was raspy and broken and the most beautiful thing that Katsuki had ever heard. 

“Hi, sweetheart,’ Katsuki said. He could hear the cracks echoing through his voice. “How’re ya feeling?”

Izuku hummed, thinking. “Tired,’ he finally said, “and cold.” As if to emphasize his point, a harsh shiver raced across his shoulders. 

“Want me to get ya a blanket, Freckles?” 

Izuku shook his head, eyes fluttering shut with the movement. His eyelashes seemed to be a harsh sort of dark against the pale skin of his cheekbones. 

“Stay with me?” 

And Katsuki was powerless to resist. He stood up and shuffled their bodies so that he sat on the bed with Izuku leaning against his chest. Katsuki reached forwards and pulled the threadbare All Might blanket from where it was puddled against the side rail of the bed and draped it across Izuku’s front, tucking the fabric around his shoulders. Katsuki felt the rough, bony line of Izuku’s spine against his chest. One hand laid against his ribs, feeling the shaking rise and fall of the other’s chest. 

Izuku’s shoulders wiggled as he burrowed further into the warmth of Katuski’s torso. His head tucked down into the blanket on his chest.

“You’re like a damn cat,” Katsuki mumbled, grinning despite himself. One of Izuku’s hands curled around his, the ridges of his scars rough against the skin of Katsuki’s palm. Izuku hummed against his chest but said nothing. 

Katsuki felt Izuku’s breathing slowly even out - as much as it could - as the other drifted off. His head slumped down and the grip on Katsuki’s hand slackened. Katsuki’s arms tightened around the sleeping boy against him. He pressed his head against the other’s head, his nose wrinkling against the fabric of Izuku’s hat. Katsuki let out a long, slow breath. His thumb rubbed against the skin of Izuku’s arm. His other hand slid from its place on Iuzku’s side to rest over his heart. The unending beat resonated through the callouses on his hands and reverberated in his bones.

Izuku was here. Izuku was safe. Izuku was alive. 

Katsuki tried to keep the desperate thought out of his head. For how long?

It took a week for the virus to run its course through Izuku’s body. Only a week, but the damage had already been done. What little energy Izuku had been able to scrounge from his time in the hospital was quickly depleted. He lost weight that he really couldn’t afford to lose. Eating was hard. Moving was even harder. 

At one point, Katsuki had needed to carry Izuku to the restroom as he couldn’t make the journey himself. Doing his morning business with his boyfriend standing in the doorway, trying to give him as much privacy as possible, was as sweet as it was incredibly embarrassing. They had both decided to pretend that it had never happened, Izuku flushing and refusing to make eye contact with Katsuki as the other carried him back to bed.

His fever had broken in the small hours of the morning, leaving him shaky and weak but alive despite all odds. The tech taking his morning vital had high-fived him when his temperature came back normal. The nurse had as well, when she had read his vitals in his chart. 

It was a school day. Katsuki texted him during the time that he usually had class. 

All Might My Beloved

Kacchan: you okay with me visiting today?

Deku: ofc!

Im always happy to see kacchan

Kacchan: youre up early

Feelin better?

Deku: yep!

My fever broke this morning

Kacchan: congrats baby

Deku: not that i dont love seeing you

But is there a reason you asked to visit?

Kacchan: i aint gonna be able to see you for a week

We’re having this training camp for finals prep

And i, uh

Im gonna miss you

So i figured id come see you before we left

Deku: aww kacchan 🥺🥺

Thats so sweet!

Kacchan: fuck off nerd

I aint sweet

Deku: ur the sweetest

U can fight me on that

Kacchan: square up then fucker

So ill see you then?

Deku: i look forward to it!!

I love you, Kacchan!!

Kacchan: a;lskdfjwie

You too, freckles

Izuku snorted at Katsuki’s keysmash. His phone thumped gently against the blankets and he leaned back against the bed, closing his eyes. His fever may have broken, but he still felt like shit. His head ached, his stomach swirled with nausea, and he felt wobbly as hell. Izuku closed his eyes, trying to will away his aches. He latched on to the thought of Katsuki coming to see him. The quiet sound of the hospital surrounded him. Monitors beeped and the steadily approaching sound of someone walking filled his ears.

When he opened his eyes again, Inko was sitting next to him. She turned to throw her sweater over the back of the chair she was sitting on. Izuku shuffled up the bed, pulling himself off of the pillows and leaning forwards. Inko turned around.

She jumped with a bit of screech. Her eyes were wide and frantic for a moment. One hand was clenched over her heart. “Izuku! You scared me!” 

Izuku smiled behind his mask. “Sorry, mama.” Inko, breath evening out as she recovered from her shock, smiled back and reached out. She brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. Izuku leaned into the warmth, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“How are you feeling, sweetie?” Izuku made a face behind his mask, sticking his tongue out and wrinkling his nose. Inko laughed. Her hand came up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing against the skin. “Oh, my sweet boy. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

Izuku leaned into her touch, her hand feeling warmer than the sun against his cold flesh. “It’s not so bad. At least I don’t have a fever anymore.” He shrugged, smiling sleepily.

Someone knocked against his door. Both Midoriyas turned towards the sound. The door swung open revealing Dr. Saroyan. She waved to the two in the room.

“Good morning. May I come in?” Dr. Saroyan stepped forwards only after they had given their consent. She pulled a rolling stool from where it sat under the computer to the bed and sat down. “Alright. I’m glad that I have the opportunity to speak to both of you. I wanted to discuss our next steps in terms of Izuku’s care.” 

Inko and Izuku’s hands clasped together. One of her thumbs brushed against the raised scars on his knuckles. She squeezed his hand, searing warmth radiating down to his bones. Dr. Saroyan was quiet. Izuku was sure that she knew what was going on, that they needed a moment to collect reassurance from each other. Inko locked eyes with the doctor in some sort of unspoken assent to go ahead. The doctor took a small breath before speaking. 

“From here on out, we essentially have two options. One is to go through with surgery to see if we can remove the tumors. I’ve spoken to the surgical team and, if you decide to go with this option I will bring them to meet you and discuss details. Two…is starting the discussion on hospice care.” Inko squeezed Izuku’s hand tightly, almost unconsciously. “Although chemotherapy has helped Izuku’s tumors shrink, they’ve been progressing at a slower rate than we’ve hoped. From the time that we took the last scans of his lungs, the tumors have barely reacted to the current chemotherapy treatment. The virus that you had irritated the tissue, causing it to produce more cells. We’re worried that, at this point, continuing chemo would be doing more harm than good.” The three were quiet. The silence was so loud it was almost deafening.

It was Izuku who broke it. “How…how long do I have to decide?” Dr. Saroyan sighed, looking down at her hands.

“Not as long as I’d like. I’d need your answer by the end of the week. After that point, there’s a high likelihood that the tumors would metastasize and proliferate to other vital organs.”

Inko cleared her throat. “What are the risks for this surgery? Can you promise me that Izuku will survive?” Izuku could see in his mother’s face that she knew the answer to her question even as she spoke. Dr. Saroyan’s face grew solemn.

“I’m sorry. There’s no guarantee that he would survive.” Inko made a choked off noise at the doctor’s words. Izuku felt empty. All those months of pain, of puking, of scaring his friends and family, and the only thing left for him was a surgery that might kill him?

All of this for nothing?

Izuku looked over at his mother. Inko’s face held the lines of her devastation.  One shaking hand covered her masked face. He could see the tremor of her shoulders, rigid against the backdrop of the now-familiar room. Her bangs hung in front of her eyes, though Izuku could see the tips were damp. There were dark blue patches on her mask from where her tears wet the plastic fabric. Izuku felt a distant ache in his chest, a familiar sort of grief, of guilt. Who was he to cause this much pain?

Izuku turned to the doctor. “I think we need a few minutes.” Dr. Saroyan nodded. Behind the glasses she wore, her eyes seemed suspiciously shiny. Izuku could see the sad smile she gave him as the corners of her eyes crinkled even as her brows drew together. 

“Alright. I’ll be outside. If you need me, or if you have an answer for me, let one of the nurses know and they’ll get in contact with me.” Izuku nodded. The doctor stood up and brushed the wrinkles in her scrub pants free before walking towards the door. As she made her way out, she turned back. “You’re a really strong kid, Izuku. I’m glad that I got the chance to meet you.” Izuku gave her an exhausted nod. He turned to his mother. 

Inko was sobbing silently into her hands. Izuku leaned forwards, throwing his hands around her shoulders and pulling her into a hug. Inko let out a high, keening noise as she bundled her son into her arms. 

“I’m so-sorry, I’m so sorry, Izuku,” she sobbed. Izuku rubbed his hand up and down her back, his head tucked into the junction of her neck and shoulder. He suddenly felt so young, so vulnerable. He felt his eyes grow hot as he fought back the urge to sob. Inko must have felt something in the way that his breath hitched because she pulled away and cupped his face in her hands.

“Oh, my sweet baby. My sweet boy.” Izuku sniffed, his lower lip trembling. “Let it out, sweetheart. Let yourself be upset.” Izuku felt a teardrop roll down his face. He hunched over, heaving a punched-out sob. Inko pulled him in until he was tucked back into her side. In an instant, their roles from earlier had been reversed. Izuku clung to his mother as he cried, grieving a life that he might not get to live. 

Izuku never thought that he would grieve for himself. But he did, heaving breaths and holding onto his mother like she was the only island in the middle of a hurricane. Eventually, the tears petered out, leaving Izuku panting and spent. Inko’s voice wobbled in his ear, speaking words that brought to mind iridescent flashes of light and the presence of one body for all. 

“This is your decision, Izuku. It’s your life, and your choice. Do you want to do the surgery?” 

Izuku took a deep breath and opened his mouth to reply.

Chapter Text

Izuku seemed subdued when Katsuki arrived. That was the first thing that he noticed. The green-haired boy looked up as the door creaked open. When he smiled at Katsuki, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His smile slipped away as fast as it had come. He seemed sucked dry. Izuku was living and breathing, but it almost felt like he had already died. There was a mellow solemness hanging suspended in the air. Katsuki tried to ignore its weight pressing down on his shoulders. 

“Hey, Freckles,” Katsuki said. He sank down into the now-familiar chair at Izuku’s bedside. His school bag crinkles slightly, its sides distended, and Katsuki fought down a flush. He, for once, thanked whatever powers existed that he had to wear this stupid mask because Izuku couldn’t see his embarrassment with it. Izuku gave him a tired smile. 

“Hey, yourself, Kacchan.” Izuku’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. The expression seemed tired, as everything about him did as of late. Katsuki reached out, brushing the back of his hand down Izuku’s cheek. The green haired boy leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. Izuku’s skin felt icy under his hand. 

“Get any rest today?” Katsuki felt the words catch against his throat, his voice coming out deep and gravelly. Izuku shrugged with one shoulder. His eyes were still closed. 

“I don’t think anyone really gets rest in a hospital, Kacchan.” Katsuki could hear the teasing grin Izuku gave him. He felt his heart flutter. It felt like it had been so long since he heard Izuku joke around. Could things be turning around? Katsuki pushed the thought away as soon as it popped into his head, for fear of triggering some kind of universal ‘gotcha’. He wouldn’t risk Izuku’s health, Izuku’s safety like that, even if it was just baseless superstition. He wouldn’t let himself hope like that. He was too afraid of having it taken away. 

Katsuki snorted a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Alright, then, nerd. See if I care.” Izuku laughed softly. It was so quiet that it made no noise, but Katsuki could see the shaking of his shoulders. He grinned under his mask, secretly pleased at how much he was getting the other boy to smile. Izuku shuffled in bed, one of the pillows behind his head falling to the side. He reached up and tugged at it so that it lay against the side rail before plopping his face into the scratchy linen. 

“What’s the training camp going to be like?” Katsuki looked up at Izuku. He was curled to his side, pillowed against the bed so that he could rest and focus on Katsuki at the same time. He felt his heart twinge at Izuku’s expression. It was a mix of fascination and longing. Katsuki recognized the expression so well. After all, Izuku had worn it for so long before meeting All Might. It brought back painful, violent memories, guilt and embarrassment sucker punching him. 

“Why d'ya wanna know, nerd?” Katsuki was a bit confused. He saw Izuku flush, then look down. He fiddled with his hands in his lap, fingers running distractedly over the raised scars there. 

“Well, I’m just curious,” Izuku said. His voice sounded embarrassed, almost. “I like knowing what you guys are learning, and how our classmates are doing. Y’know, I can’t really go see them, and they can’t come see me, so it’s just nice to know what’s going on.”

Suddenly, Katsuki felt like a massive asshole. Izuku was stuck in here with no one but himself, his mother, and the staff at the hospital. All Might wasn’t even allowed to come see him because they were both so vulnerable. He must feel so isolated, even with Katsuki’s daily visits. 

And, Katsuki realized as the pooling guilt began to writhe in his stomach, Izuku hasn’t been able to participate in a lot of his hero classes since he started treatment. He had to watch his friends improve and strengthen and become heroes while he had to sit on the sidelines, unable to join in. Again, Katsuki thought of how things used to be: Izuku sitting on the sidelines taking notes on his classmates as they participated in physical education and quirk training as he was deemed too ‘fragile’ to join in. What must Izuku feel like, getting to be on the same level as everyone else only to have it be ripped away from him before he could even begin? 

Something must have shown on his face. Izuku’s brows crinkled and his head tilted against the pillow. “Kacchan?” He asked. “Are you okay?” Katsuki cleared his throat, willing his voice to stay even.

“Yeah,” he forced out, “I just…” He trailed off, not knowing what to say. Izuku was quiet for a moment. Then his brows raised and his eyes softened. 

“Kacchan…”

“Yeah?” Katsuki ground out the word, worried that Izuku would know what he was thinking and pull out some platitudes that would leave Katsuki feeling better about himself but wreck Izuku inside emotionally.

“It’s okay to be scared.” 

What.  

“What?” Katsuki was so surprised that for a second he forgot what he had been worried about.

“The training camp.”

“Why would I be scared about some dumb fucking training camp?” Katsuki couldn’t even bring himself to feel incredulous; he was too confused. 

“W-well,” Izuku started, “After…what happened last time, I wasn’t sure if you were going to be nervous, and I just wanted to say that if you were scared, it’s okay. You went through a traumatic experience. It’s okay to be upset.”

Oh. 

Katsuki felt his heart crack as once again he was floored by Izuku’s kindness. All of this stress, this uncertainty, at a time where Izuku’s focus should really just be on himself, and he was worried about Katsuki going to the camp? He was worried about Katsuki being there after the kidnapping last time? Of him being afraid and without Izuku by his side. Katsuki blinked, completely blown away. Panicking slightly at his continued silence, Izuku began rambling.

“Of course I don’t mean to imply that you can’t handle it, Kacchan. You can handle anything! But if you want to talk or anything I’m happy to listen. I wish I could be there in case you need me but you can always call me no matter what time it is. I literally don’t have any other plans so don’t worry and just call if you need me!” Izuku’s voice grew higher and higher in pitch as he carried on. 

Katsuki put one hand over his face as he felt his cheeks growing warm and his eyes burning. He let out a wet chuckle. 

“The fuck did I do in my last life to deserve someone like you, Izuku?” 

Izuku squeaked. Katsuki’s head snapped up. Over the past few months, a certain sort of paranoia had taken hold of his heart. Izuku’s abduction hadn’t done him any favors; if anything, Katsuki felt the need to be even more vigilant with his boyfriend’s health and happiness. He pushed down the thought that he was only doing it to make up for his past failings

When Katsuki’s eyes focused, what he saw was quite possibly the cutest thing he had ever laid eyes on. Izuku had both his hands in front of his face. His shoulders were hiked up next to his pink-tinged ears. He let out a quiet, high-pitched whine and Katsuki could see that the ridges of his cheeks were dusted with red. Izuku peeked out from the shelter of his hands. The green rings of his eyes glinted against the fluorescent light. He let out a muffled “Kacchaaaaaaaaan!” Katsuki barked a laugh, leaning forwards on his chair. He grinned as Izuku’s eyes met his, still half covered by the shell of his hands. 

“Just speakin’ the truth, Freckles. Musta done somethin’ real amazing to make it so I have you in my life.” Katsuki reached forwards, pulling one hand away from Izuku’s face. He pressed his mask-covered lips to Izuku’s knuckles. Katsuki looked up through his lashes, Izuku’s captured hand still held close to his face. 

The boy’s face was completely red. The flush trailed down his neck and disappeared under the loose collar of his hospital gown - this one was patterned with little diamonds. Izuku’s eyes looked down and to the side. One side of his head still rested against the pillow on the side rail. His hat slouched forward, a stray wisp of green hair falling out. 

He peeked over at Katsuki. Their eyes met, and Izuku looked away. 

“And you insist that you’re not sweet. It’s bad to lie, Kacchan,” Izuku grumbled. There was a distinct pout in his voice. 

Katsuki smiled against the other’s hand, one thumb rubbing up and down a particularly thick ridge of scars. Izuku looked at him, something searching in his eyes. Katsuki felt suddenly exposed for a moment, before the boy smiled at him.

“Sit with me? Onl-only if you want to,” Izuku said. The hand not held captive by Katsuki rose up, tapping one finger against the side of his jaw. 

Heh, sly little nerd. Katsuki closed his eyes and heaved a great, put-upon sigh. He stood up, using his free hand to press against his thighs and gain momentum. With his eyes still closed he ambled over to the bed and lowered the side rail. He caught the wayward pillow before it dropped to the ground. 

“Shove over, sunshine.” Izuku did so, the disappearing red on his face flaring bright once more. He shuffled over to the side of the bed. Katsuki sank down next to him. He pulled the side rail up against his back and shuffled so that he faced the other. The hard plastic was cool against his shirt. Izuku mirrored his position. Their hands tangled in the space between their bodies, breaths mingling together and blowing gently over their joined hands. The only thing truly separating them now was the blue mask on each of their faces. 

The moment felt soft, comforting. Laying in each other’s arms, Katsuki felt the guilt, the stress, the fear seep into the bed underneath him. All that was left was the floating feeling of peace settling deep into the space between his lungs. Katsuki felt feet being tucked up under his legs, the cool skin seeping through the tough material of his pants. 

Katsuki hesitated, then spoke. 

“Got somethin’ for ya, sunshine.” Katsuki flushed a bit, the rising color almost hidden by the plastic fabric of his mask. Izuku blinked. His head tilted to the side, the action causing his head to press further in the pillow. 

“Hmm? Kacchan, got me something?” The blonde nodded. “What is it?” 

Katsuki snorted. “Can’t tell ya that, nerd. ‘S the whole point of a surprise.” Katsuki reached up and flicked gently at the space between Izuku’s eyebrows. Izuku looked up at the ceiling, his eyes slowly crinkling as he fought off a smile. 

“Okay, okay, whatever Kacchan says.” Katsuki could hear the smile in his voice. His own lips pulled into a smile. Izuku’s happiness had always been so infectious. It was doubly so now that these moments came more rarely. Katsuki pressed their foreheads together briefly before pulling away. He leaned over the side of the bed and fumbled around, trying to find the handle of his bag. His hand was still locked tight around the other’s. 

Izuku laughed as he flailed. “You know you can let go of my hand, Kacchan. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know that, shitty nerd,” Katsuki grumbled.

But the truth was that Katsuki couldn’t let go. Izuku’s hand in his felt so right that even the thought of letting go felt like a sin. Their hands molded to each other so well. They were each other’s missing piece, pottery shards brought together and fused with gold. A lifeline in the midst of a storming sea. The moon and the ocean, inexorably pulled together, caught in each other’s gravity. 

Katsuki, finally hooking his fingers under the straps of his bag, hoisted it up and onto his lap. He unzipped the top with one hand before turning to Izuku.

“Cover your eyes,” he barked.

“Huh?”

“Cover. Them.” Izuku shrugged, clearly confused, but did as asked. One hand came up and clasped over his eyes. He jokingly peeked out through a gap in his fingers before sliding them together to properly obscure his vision. In the burning gold of the late afternoon sun, the scars on Izuku’s hand looked like gilded lines, precious metal plating even more precious flesh. Katsuki paused, momentarily struck by the beauty of the moment. Izuku fidgeted a little, prompting Katsuki to return to his task. He reached in and pulled his prize from the depths of his bag. Without the object distending the side, it looked almost deflated. Funny how quickly our minds adapt to a change in appearance from the norm. He set the object in the space between their legs before pulling Izuku’s hand down to it. 

“Can I look?” Izuku’s voice held a subdued, breathless excitement. It was obvious that he was trying to act blase about the whole situation. Katsuki grinned at his reaction.

“Go ahead, Freckles,” he said, leaning close and bumping his head gently against Izuku’s. The green haired boy let his hand fall. His eyes traced down his arm to what his hand rested on.

It was a gift bag. The sides were red, white, and yellow. It tilted to the side and Izuku saw All Might’s smiling face distorted with the wave of the paper. Cheerful mint green tissue paper poked out of the open top. The paper rustled as Izuku shifted his hand to pick the bag up. He looked up at Katsuki. He could see the crinkles around the other’s eyes, the mask on his face hiding the small smile. 

“Wh-I-Kach-huh?” Izuku stammered. Katsuki just shrugged. The tips of his ears were pinker than they had been earlier. Katsuki leaned closer. Izuku could feel the heat of his body leak through the thin fabric of his hospital gown.

“Open it, shitty nerd.” Katsuki’s voice was low, gravelly. Izuku swallowed and nodded. His hands trembled as he opened the gift, excitement shooting down his arms. The tissue paper rustled under his fingers as he pulled it out of the bag. A soft lump came out with it, tissue paper taped to resemble a wrapped present. It was soft and round, and Izuku could see a peek of darkness through a tiny little tear in the side. He fumbled with the taped sides. Numb fingers peeled away the layers of minty paper. In his lap, a pair of fuzzy socks decorated with rabbits sat on top of a…

A plush doll of Katsuki in his hero suit. 

Izuku picked up the plush, the soft touch of the fabric muted under his numb fingers. He pulled away the remnants of the tissue paper before holding the toy up to the light. Katsuki was quiet next to him. From the corner of his eyes, Izuku could see one hand rubbing over the other, knuckles white with the force of his clenched fist. He tucked the doll under his chin, pulling it under the blanket. He looked at Katsuki, his face drawn into a serious expression.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan.” Katsuki’s eyes widened. Izuku poked the plush Katsuki’s head out from the blanket so only his face was exposed. The two Katsukis glared at each other. Izuku bit his lip. “This is my boyfriend now. I’m leaving you for Squishchan.” His voice trembled with the force of holding back his laughter. Katsuki blinked, perplexed. 

“Fucking Squishchan?!” Izuku couldn’t help but laugh at Katsuki’s affronted expression. He wheezed as he bent over the plush Kacchan. After a moment, Katsuki joined in. Hearing the other laugh sent warmth running through Izuku’s chest. Still laughing, Katsuki pulled Izuku to him. 

“What does he have that I don’t, Freckles?” He snorted. “Hah? I oughta kick his ass. Little homewrecker!” He glared pointedly at Squishchan as he said it. The plush glared back, unrepentant. Izuku cackled against his chest.

“How dare you say that to Squishchan, my beloved?!” Izuku’s voice was cut through with laughter. “Brigand! Vagabond! Miette’s owner who kicks her like the football!” Izuku choked on laughter, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Katsuki buried his head in the other’s shoulder. Izuku could feel the brush of his eyelashes against his shoulder. The room grew quieter as they caught their breath.

“...So, you like it?” Izuku felt his mouth pull into a grin.

“I love it, Kacchan. Where did you get it?” Izuku turned his head. He couldn’t see Katsuki’s face, but the tips of the blonde’s ears were scarlet. The boy mumbled something too softly for Izuku to hear. “Hmm? Kacchan?”

Katsuki kept his head down. “Ponytail,” he muttered, “Asked her to make it for ya. Didn’t want ya to feel alone this week.” His tone was embarrassed. Izuku’s heart melted into a goopy little puddle.

“Aww, Kacchaaaaaaaan!” Izuku threw one arm around Katsuki’s shoulders, nuzzling his face into the delicate skin at the base of the other’s neck. Katsuki stiffened under his touch for a moment, before relaxing slowly. One of his broad hands spanned over Izuku’s back, rubbing up and down slowly. “Thank you! I love it.” Katsuki’s chest rumbled as he laughed softly.

“ ‘m glad you like it, Sunshine,” Katsuki murmured. Izuku melted into the warmth in front of him. Squishchan was bundled in his arms, pressed between his and Katsuki’s chests. His breaths were slow and measured, the low whistling of his nasal cannula filling the silence. Izuku suddenly felt exhausted. His eyes half-fell, one almost shut. He yawned before burrowing closer to Katsuki’s chest. 

“Tired, Zuku?” Katuski’s voice rumbled in his ear. Izuku nodded. The hand trailing on his back pulled away, only to return and cup his cheek. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. You need the rest.”

“Mnkay, Kcchan,” Izuku mumbled. He settled down in the other’s arms. A languid quietness filled the room. Izuku drifted between sleep and wakefulness. Katsuki kept rubbing soothing circles into his back. It felt like a dream as Katsuki leaned in and whispered into his ear. 

“I need to go, Zuku. I’ll see you in a week.” It seemed that Katsuki thought that Izuku was asleep, as he leaned over to Squishchan’s face next. “You better keep an eye on him you fucker.” Izuku’s eyes opened to slits, not wanting to fully absorb the harshness of the hospital lighting. 

He felt the other boy pull away, the warmth leaving his side. Izuku tried to reach out, to ask Katsuki to stay, but his arms suddenly filled with lead. He sagged against the pillow, his vision fading. He felt Katsuki kiss his forehead through his mask. The last vision he had of Katsuki was the other boy turning back by the doorway before leaving the room. As the last vestiges of his consciousness faded away, Izuku thought that he could hear Katsuki saying goodbye. Izuku didn’t know why it sounded like mourning. 

As Katsuki turned away, walking to the door, he felt a sort of desperate sadness. The soft click of the hospital door behind him sounded like a funeral dirge. As Katsuki walked away, he couldn’t help but feel like his goodbyes were different this time. As if this would be the last time that they would be spoken. 

Chapter Text

The week that Katsuki was gone felt like some sort of liminal space, an eternity suspended apart from reality. The days blended together. Moments stretched out into infinity. Izuku felt lost, untethered from the world. Though that could be attributed to the pain meds that he was on. 

At one point, Izuku remembered a doctor coming in to speak with him and his mother. She introduced herself as one of the surgical staff. Izuku was having trouble paying attention during the meeting. He found himself dozing off occasionally. More than once, his mother had needed to shake him awake. He always apologized for doing so. Luckily, the surgeon seemed to understand and would repeat what she said or give him a brief synopsis. By the end of the week, they had made a plan for Izuku’s surgery. The procedure was to happen the next Friday, in order to give Izuku a little more time to recover from his sickness. A week and two days.

The same day as Katsuki’s final exam. 

Izuku felt a nervous kind of guilt build in his stomach. He couldn’t tell Katsuki about the surgery. He just couldn’t. Because if he did, and Katsuki did poorly on his final exam, then Izuku would be to blame. Of course, no one would point fingers at him. Because how could they accuse the poor invalid Izuku, too sick to get out of bed on his own. Izuku pushed away those thoughts, both the self-loathing and the burning resentment. It wasn’t their fault, it wasn’t his, but he couldn’t ask for Katsuki to potentially give up his future because of a surgery that might not even work. 

Izuku clutched Squishchan closer to his chest, willing himself to think positively. After all, it was the only thing that he could do anymore. 

The break between their meeting and the surgery also allowed some time for Inko and Izuku to get their affairs in order in case Izuku didn’t survive. It was a morbid kind of hilarity, shopping online for his own coffin. He and his mother had made a game of it, trying to lighten the heavy mood hanging over both of their heads.

Inko leaned over the side rail, brandishing her phone in his face. “Look at this one on Etsy!” Izuku looked over, exhaustion evident on his face. He looked at the screen and snorted so hard that he had to fiddle with his nasal cannula to put it back in its proper place. It was red, blue, and yellow. A poorly painted All Might grinned from the lid. A click through the collected pictures showed white satin lining with an All Might pillow. Izuku wheezed as he replied to his mother.

“I love it. Absolutely iconic.”

Inko snorted, one hand coming up to cover her masked face. “I don’t know, Izuku. How would we match flower arrangements to it?” Izuku shrugged with one shoulder. He felt a sudden wave of bone-crushing weariness. He went quiet, his shoulders slumping down. Something must have shown in his eyes because Inko paused. Her hand lowered, the phone making a small clicking noise as she locked it and set it on the table next to her. She stood up and sat down on the edge of his bed. Inko reached out with one hand and caressed his cheek. 

She spoke, her eyes crinkling into a sad little smile. “Tired, sweetie?” Izuku nodded languidly against her hand. With her other hand, Inko reached up and tugged the pillow closer to his head. She pressed against his shoulder lightly, encouraging him to lay down. 

“Take a nap, Izuku. I’ll still be here when you wake up.” Izuku sagged into her touch. He closed his eyes, sinking into the pillows. 

“I love you, mama. ‘M sorry I made you sad again.” he mumbled. At the back of his brain, Izuku thought that he could hear someone give out a choked sob as the last of his consciousness faded. He thought it sounded so familiar, like a mourning call from long ago. 

Izuku woke up feeling as exhausted as he did when he went to sleep. He cracked one eye open. The room was dim, the only light trickling in from the window behind him. He shuffled a bit on the bed. Someone sniffled next to him. Izuku’s eyes snapped open. He looked over to where the noise came from.

Inko was curled into herself, sniffling quietly and staring blankly at the television in the corner of the room. A children’s cartoon played on the screen. Inko’s eyes were unfocused, red-rimmed and puffy. It was clear that she wasn’t actually watching the show playing on the screen.

She’s been crying, hasn’t she? Izuku took a deep breath. His chest ached, and he could feel an uncomfortable pressure in his lower abdomen. He shuffled up the bed, pulling himself to a sitting position. Inko looked over at the noise. Despite her tear-stained face, she smiled at her son. 

“Feeling better, sweetie?” She asked. Izuku shrugged. 

“More or less the same.” He flushed suddenly. “Err…I need a favor?” Inko tilted her head. 

“What do you need sweetheart?” Izuku flushed even brighter and looked at his lap. With one hand, he pointed at the closed bathroom door. 

Inko laughed. Izuku’s stomach burned as he realized just how long it had been since he had heard that sound. Izuku heard the click of the side railing as it was lowered. 

“Do you want to walk, or do you want me to get a wheelchair?” 

“...chair?” Inko grinned down at him. 

“Alright, honey, give me a minute.” She patted his cheek and walked out the door. Izuku felt the flush on his cheeks burn. It was embarrassing enough having to need help to do basic things like going to the bathroom. But needing his mother to help him somehow felt worse. He knew that Inko had seen it all before and had helped so many different people to the bathroom before. But it just felt different. He did appreciate her trying to give him some independence, a choice in the matter. It was the small things that counted nowadays, and Inko did her best to notice everything. 

Izuku looked up at the sound of the door opening again. Inko walked in backwards, pulling the wheelchair behind her. She parked it at the edge of the bed before reaching her hands out. Izuku scooted to the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her neck. Her hands went around his waist and she squatted so that their faces were level. Gentle heat seeped through his hospital gown and spread across his chilled skin. He felt himself shiver. They pushed up together. Izuku shook in his mother’s hold, leaning heavily into her stout frame. She stood solid and firm in front of him, hands braced to take his weight. He panted, out of breath. Inko rubbed a thumb over the protruding bone of his hip. 

“Take your time, Izuku.” Inko’s voice was soothing, low and comforting. “We go at your pace.” Izuku nodded, his breath shuddering. His eyes were screwed shut as he focused on breathing. Slowly, his legs buckling under him, the two shuffled to the locked wheelchair. Izuku sank down into the chair, breath heaving. Inko knelt down and helped Izuku put his feet on the footrests before she straightened up. 

“Gotta disconnect you for a sec, sweetie. I’ll reconnect you as soon as I can. Are you okay to do it now or do you need some more time?” Izuku nodded, still panting slightly.

“I can do it now.” Inko nodded before walking behind him. His eyes were screwed shut as he focused on regaining his breath. Izuku heard a hissing noise and felt the cool flow of oxygen that had been passing through his nasal cannula stop. He took slow breaths, focusing on expanding his lungs as much as possible. Another hiss, and then the flow of oxygen began again. A hand stroked across the breadth of his back.

“Are you okay, Izuku?” Inko asked. Izuku nodded, his eyes finally falling open. He felt the quiet rumble of the wheels rolling against the ground as they made their way to the bathroom. The process was repeated in reverse - transferring from the chair to the toilet. Izuku flushed as he was lowered down. His mother ruffled his hair before stepping out of the room and standing in the doorway. 

“Do not get up without me, okay?” Inko called. “Tell me when you’re done and I’ll come help you.”

“Okay,” Izuku croaked. He went about his business, grateful that his mother had stepped out. He called out for Inko as she had instructed. When she came in, she bent down so their faces were on the same level. 

“Since we're here already, do you want to take a shower? There’s a chair you can use.” Izuku thought for a moment. He had been feeling increasingly gross as his mobility declined. It was harder for him to get up and take care of himself. He nodded. Inko nodded back. 

“I’ll help you over and you wash as much as you can. I’ll help with what you need. Do you want me to wash your hair?” Normally, Izuku would prefer to wash it himself. He was rather self-conscious about the state of his hair because of the chemo he was on. But there was an ache in his chest. He didn’t want to have to be strong right now. He wanted comfort, to be held and loved, to be taken care of. He just wanted his mother to hold him, even for a minute. 

“Please?” Izuku’s voice was gravelly. Inko smiled at him.

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

Thus the process of transferring began once again. The distance between the toilet and the shower was too short for them to use the wheelchair, but far enough that Izuku struggled to make it. He sank down into the shower chair. Inko patted his cheek and moved to pull away, but he held on tighter.

“Izuku?”

“Don’t leave. Please?” Much to his embarrassment, Izuku felt his lower lip trembling. His voice was wet when he next spoke. “Please stay. I’m scared. Please, mama.” His voice cracked and broke. His eyes burned as tears trickled down his cheeks. 

“Oh, sweetheart, of course I’ll stay!” Inko’s voice was suspiciously wet. “It’s okay to be scared, Izuku. Mama’s got you.” Inko slid next to him on the shower bench. He curled up in her lap. Suddenly, he was five again - crying into his mother’s blouse because he just wanted the pain to stop and he didn’t understand what he did wrong. She had stayed by his side then, just as she was doing now. He hiccuped. Inko’s hand stroked up and down his back. 

“Mama’s got you, Zuku. Mama’s got you.”

They stayed locked together in an embrace. The time passed unseen. Eventually, Izuku’s sobs petered out. He sniffed a couple of times before pulling away.

“Sorry,” he croaked, his voice crackling and broken. Inko smiled, bringing one hand up to his cheek. She brushed her thumb against the ridge of his eye socket. Izuku’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into her touch.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Izuku,” she said gently, “Nothing at all.” She could feel his face stretch into a smile as his eyes opened. 

“Thanks, mama,” he croaked. Inko pulled him in and squeezed before pushing his shoulders away. He sniffled and wiped clumsily at his eyes. 

Inko helped her son wash, taking care to give him as much control as possible. She let him take as long as he needed and pretended not to notice the residual sniffles. Once it came time to wash his hair, she took over. 

The shower had a handheld attachment. Using one hand, she shielded Izuku’s eyes. Inko held the shower head over his sparse hair. The last long strands of curly green fell apart at the gentle touch of the water. Patches of downy soft fuzz grew underneath. The medical team had decided to withhold his chemotherapy treatments. With the surgery coming up, and with the more recent scans of his lungs, they had decided to give Izuku’s body a little time to recover. Because of this, his hair had been given a slight reprieve from the harsh chemicals. Small tufts of hair, so tiny they could barely be noticed, had begun to crop up. 

Inko ran a hand down the span of his head, the tiny hairs prickling against her skin. A few stray curls clung to the surface of her palm, the last vestiges of his previous life trickling down the drain. She sprayed quickly before turning off the water. 

Izuku melted under the touch. Having someone wash your hair for you is soothing, a loving experience. By the time that Inko was finished, Izuku was half-asleep in the shower chair. He leaned against her torso. She draped a waiting towel over his head. Planting a kiss to the top of his head, Inko wrapped the ends around his torso. He brought a hand up to hold the sides together. He began to dry himself and she stepped out, coming back with a fresh gown. They dressed him together. Izuku could feel the press of her fingers as Inko snapped the clasps on his shoulders together. 

“Ready?” Inko asked after a moment. Izuku nodded, and so they began the process of transferring from shower chair to wheelchair, and then to his bed once again. 

Once he was settled in, Inko draped a warm, fuzzy blanket over his chest. She reached up and tugged a hat down over his ears. She began to pull away, but Izuku latched onto her arm. 

“...Stay?” He whispered, his eyes drooping down. Inko smiled at him, her eyes seeming damp and sad to him.

“Of course, sweetie.” Inko sank down onto the bed next to him, pulling Izuku once again into her arms. He drifted off in her embrace, the warmth of her touch soothing against the permeating chill around him.

Chapter Text

Seeing Izuku through a phone screen instead of in person ached, and Katsuki began feeling sympathy for his classmates who had only been able to connect with Izuku through text since he was rescued from All For One. Still, seeing his boyfriend’s smiling face was the highlight of his day. Normally, electronics were to be left at home during training camps, so as to immerse the students in the exercise. He, however, had been given permission to bring his. 

Aizawa had pulled him aside the day before they were to leave. It was after the school day was done. As the class filed out of the room, the teacher looked over at him.

“Bakugou,” Aizawa grumbled, “I need to speak with you briefly.” Katsuki nodded. His friends looked over at him, worried. He shook his head. Denki shrugged, proceeding to pull the rest of their group through the doors. Once the room was empty, Katsuki made his way over to Aizawa’s desk. 

“Sir?” Katsuki asked. Aizawa looked up at him. The man seemed tired, but no more so than usual. 

“Do you have a way to make video calls?” He asked. Katsuki blinked.

“Uh…yeah?” Aizawa nodded. Katsuki was confused.

“Good. Bring it to the training camp.” 

“Okay?” Katsuki was still confused. Aizawa nodded at him and then stood up, walking out of the classroom without a backwards glance. Katsuki was left alone in the classroom, even more confused than he had been at the beginning. 

The morning of the training camp had arrived. Despite the looming threat of finals, there was a buzz of excitement thrumming throughout the gathered students. Katsuki stood apart from the group, watching everyone. To him, it seemed subdued. The chattering voices were low. There was no jittery dancing from the more excitable people of the class. No one chanted ‘Camp! Camp! Camp!’ like they had last year. 

Katsuki began to notice glances thrown his way. They weren’t the suspicious glances of so long ago. They weren’t anger-filled, or annoyed, or condescending. They were…sad and, Katsuki realized with a growing indignation, pitying. He thought back to his last conversation with Izuku before he had left. 

You went through a traumatic experience. It’s okay to be upset. 

They must all be thinking of the last training camp. Of how disastrous it had been. Of how Katsuki had been taken right under their noses. Did they think he was scared? Traumatized?

Katsuki growled in his throat, annoyed. How dare they look at him like that. The worst thing was that they would be right. He was terrified. He remembered the helplessness that he had felt. The feeling of Dabi’s calloused fingers wrapping around his throat, gripping the skin and leaving bruises. The sinking in his stomach, the burning fear, the humiliation he felt at being locked up like an animal, like some kind of violent pet the League had stolen off the street. The hopelessness that he had felt as Izuku had sprinted towards him, knowing that the other boy would never make it in time. The pain that he must have felt punching through his lungs as the other half of his soul was taken away right before his eyes. 

Katsuki looked away. He could feel the burning gazes sinking into his flesh. He desperately wished for Izuku to be at his side. The other always had a way of being by him without burden, without pity in his gaze. Even when Izuku had asked him, the only thing on his face had been concern. No pity, no condescension. Nothing but love. 

He suddenly felt warmth by his side. A glance to his periphery flashed pale pink. A little further down, just at the edge of what he could see was a slash of brown. 

“The fuck do you two want?” He grumbled. Katsuki felt something warm and solid land against the broad plane of his bicep. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the bus behind him. He finally looked over fully, making eye contact with Mina. 

“Wanna sit with us on the bus, Blasty?” Mina asked, her voice light. Katsuki grunted noncommittally. Mina pushed on.

“C’moooon, Bakugou! You can’t stand in the corner being Mister Grouchypants forever!” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Anyways, it’d be totally lame if you sat all by yourself like some wannabe emo middle schooler.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. Mina leaned closer and opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a call from the front of the bus. 

Iida stood at the open door, waving his arms and generally driving Katsuki up a wall. Yaoyorozu stood next to him with a long-suffering smile etched on her face. One of her eyes twitched. Katsuki felt a rush of respect for her. 

The class filtered onto the bus one by one. Soon enough, only he and Yaoyorozu were left outside. 

“Good morning, Bakugou,” she said, “Are you excited for the training camp?” He smiled. Her eyes closed and her head tilted to the side. Katsuki shrugged. 

“Guess so,” he mumbled. He moved to step onto the bus, then paused before turning back to her. “Hey, Yaoyorozu?”

She hummed in question. “Is everything alright?” Katsuki looked to the side, flushing slightly under her gaze.

“Thanks. For your help with Deku’s gift. He…he really liked it.” Her eyes widened and her hands clasped together. A broad grin stretched over her face.

“I am so glad to hear it! Thank you for letting me help!” Katsuki nodded at her, a small smile on his face. The two boarded the bus together, Katsuki stepping back to allow her to enter first. As he approached the seats, he saw staggered groups of people strewn throughout the bus. He was suddenly thrust back into the past, to another time when all but one of them had boarded a bus together. It hurt less this time, but only slightly. 

Katsuki sighed and sank down into the nearest empty seat. It ended up being next to Aizawa. The man glanced up at him as he sat down. They nodded at each other. Katsuki settled in his seat as Aizawa stood up. A hush fell over the gathered students. 

“Alright, we’re leaving for the camp now. Don’t bother me unless you are dying. Don’t bother anyone who doesn’t look like they want to talk. Try to keep everything to a dull roar. Am I understood?”

A chorus of ‘yes Mr. Aizawa’ rang through the chassis. The man sighed, sounding more like a groan, before settling back into his seat. The bus rumbled to life under Katsuki’s feet. He saw the man next to him cross his arms over his chest and lay against the rumbling window of the bus. Katsuki shrugged and put in headphones, following his teacher’s example. 

He didn’t end up falling asleep, but opened his eyes at the training camp site feeling calm. The sun was low in the sky as the rumbling of the bus slowed. Warmth crossed the expanse of his arms. Katsuki felt the line of light travel cross through the plane of his face and out through his hair as their group finally rolled to a stop. Katsuki sighed. 

The class filed off the bus, and so their week of torture in the name of learning began. 

The week passed quickly, the hours bleeding together one explosion at a time. Katsuki was worked to the bone, too tired at the end of the day to feel fear. His very bones ached, and he wondered if this was what Izuku felt like every day.  He tried not to let the thought bother him. 

When they weren’t training, they were being drilled on various subjects. It seemed that Aizawa was in some form of vindictive mood the entire week. He was merciless in his teaching. If someone answered a question wrong, they had to run laps. Katsuki had never seen his classmates get so many answers correct. He was almost impressed. It seemed as if he needed to change his methods when helping his idiots study. 

Before they knew it, the night before they returned home arrived. The class was strewn across various pieces of furniture, completely spent. Katsuki slouched against one of the walls. His legs were bent in front of him, head tucked towards his knees. His arms were propped up on his bent knees.

Footsteps echoed across the floor. They stopped in front of him. Katsuki looked up. His eyes were lined with the faintest of dark circles. Aizawa towered before him, slouching with his hands in his pockets. The room went quiet. Aizawa gestured with his head for Katsuki to follow him. He pulled himself up, shuffling behind his teacher. As he walked out, he could see Kaminari mouth ‘ooo you’re in trouble’ with a shit-eating grin. Katsuki sneered and flipped him off as he exited. 

Katsuki fell into line next to Aizawa. The man led him down the hall. 

“Did you bring your device thing?” Katsuki nodded, quirking an eyebrow at the question. Aizawa nodded. “Go grab it. Meet me in the kitchen.”

“Kay.” Katsuki peeled off towards the sleeping area where they had been keeping their stuff. He rifled through his bag, confusion and the inklings of nerves beginning to build in his gut. He was totally lost as to why Aizawa was asking this. Katsuki hated being out of the loop.

The blonde slung his computer bag over one shoulder and trudged towards the kitchen. He opened the door and stepped in. Aizawa leaned against the counter, a mug of what Katsuki assumed was coffee in one hand.

“Sir?” He asked, more so to alert Aizawa to his presence. The man took a sip from his mug and gestured with one hand towards the table. Katsuki sank down into one of the chairs before pulling out his laptop. The thing groaned as it booted up - not being charged for a few days had left it angry. Katsuki heard the slide of a zipper against a hard surface and looked up. Aizawa had pulled his computer bag towards him and dug out the charger. Katsuki blinked as the man walked to the wall and plugged it in. 

“Uh, thanks, I guess.” Katsuki, at this point, just accepted the fact that he would have no idea what would be going on for the foreseeable future. The login screen finally loaded. Katsuki blinked at the flash of bright light. He typed in the password and watched the wheel spin as the screen loaded. Katsuki looked over at Aizawa, too tired to try to guess what the man wanted. The teacher reached out with one hand and pulled the computer towards him, clicking and typing. Eventually, he let out a sigh and nodded before looking over at Katsuki.

“Okay. Pull up your chatting thing. For video calls.” Katsuki held eye contact with him for a long moment before shrugging. He clicked on the video chatting logo and watched as the screen pulled up. 

“What now?” Katsuki asked, looking over at Aizawa. He raised one eyebrow. The man was hunched over his phone, typing with one thumb. With the other hand, he held up a finger in a universal gesture of ‘give me a minute’. Katsuki let out a sharp breath, completely flummoxed. Eventually, he looked up and nodded.

“Alright.” He clicked at the screen and stood up as the chatting screen appeared. Aizawa strode out the door. Right before he exited, he turned back to Katsuki. “You have five minutes before I send in the other problem children.”

“Hah?!” Katsuki let out. Aizawa just walked away. Katsuki looked back at the screen just as it started connecting. He watched the little pinwheel circle around before his vision was filled with the most beautiful thing he could ever imagine. Katsuki’s jaw dropped. 

Izuku grinned at him from the screen. His mask was gone, and Katsuki assumed that he was alone in the room. It dawned on Katsuki just how long it had been since he had seen Izuku’s face with nothing in the way. The nasal cannula still looped under his nose and behind his ears. He laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet room. The skin around his eyes crinkled.

“Hi, Kacchan!” 

“Hey, Sunflower,” Katsuki said. His voice was breathless, awed. Izuku gave a soft laugh. His eyes slid shut for a moment before opening once more. The boy shifted and eventually he laid on his side, one side of his face half covered by a pillow. Though his mouth was obscured, Katsuki could see the sweet little smile Izuku gave him. He felt his heart pound nearly out of his chest. 

“Aizawa asked me if I was okay calling you guys,” Izuku started. His voice was a little muffled from the pillow but clear as day to Katsuki. He felt a small smile stretch across his face.

“Yeah?”

“Yep! He thought that it’d be a nice surprise for the class.” Izuku leaned forwards, closer to the phone. His voice trembled with repressed excitement as he spoke. “How’s camp going? Have you been learning a lot?” Katsuki groaned. Izuku laughed. “”That bad, huh?” He nodded.

“Been boring as shit without you. Dunce Face hasn’t even fried himself once all week.”

“Oh, good for Kaminari! We had been talking about ways for him to redirect his currents so they’d have less of a toll on him.” Izuku launched into an excited tirade, voice croaking out as one hand gesticulated weakly. At the corner of the screen, Katsuki could just make out the familiar tufts of Squishchan’s hair. He snorted at the sight. 

“And how’s the little homewrecker been doing? Keepin’ you outta trouble?” Izuku gasped, affronted.

“Kacchan! How dare you! You keep poor Squishchan’s name out of your dirty mouth!” Katsuki barked a laugh, hands coming up in the sign of surrender. There was a rumbling laughter in the undertone of Izuku’s words. Their voices faded out, but Katsuki started. He could still hear the rumbling…and it was getting closer. Katsuki’s head snapped to the side.

“Kacchan?” Izuku asked. Katsuki looked back at the screen. Izuku’s brows crinkled together. Squishchan pressed tighter into his frail chest. He sighed.

“Brace yourself, Freckles.” 

“Huh?” 

The door to the kitchen burst open with a loud, clattering bang. Izuku jumped, letting out two surprised coughs. Eighteen rowdy teenagers poured through the doorframe, limbs entangled as they battled to be the first one to enter. Eventually, a flash of pink burst through, pulling the other students forward. They clattered to the floor in a graceless heap. Mina sprinted past, skidding to a halt behind Katuski’s chair.

“Hi, Mido-babe!” Mina yelled, leaning over Katsuki’s shoulder. To the side, he could hear the groans of those at the bottom of the pile and the rising tone of argument as they snapped at each other. 

“Hi, Mina,” Izuku replied. Mina blinked at his voice before shoving Katsuki gracelessly to the side and stealing his chair. 

“Hey, no fair!” A voice yelled from the back, sounding suspiciously like Kaminari. Mina yelled back over her shoulder something that Katsuki didn’t quite catch. 

Katsuki began to slowly back up as more people filled the room, crowding around the computer. Over the cacophony of voices, he could hear Izuku’s voice reply to questions and rasp along as he spoke and laughed and breathed. The noise slowly faded out, blurring into the background. Katsuki watched as his classmates connected with the missing piece of themselves. 

A warm, syrupy feeling poured down his sternum to pool in his stomach. Belatedly, Katsuki realized that it was happiness.

Chapter Text

There was a certain kind of anticipation humming through the air. It ricocheted through everyone’s bones and lodged its hooks into muscle and tender flesh. There was an anxiety, a restlessness, a thrill to be had so thick in the air it could be cut with a proverbial knife. Finals season had arrived, and with it, the day of Izuku’s surgery.

There was no rest for the wicked, and so the boys were kept apart once Katsuki returned from the training camp. The home stretch of cramming material and sleepless, anxious nights and even more anxious days, kept Katsuki so busy that he barely had energy to do anything other than eat, sleep, and study. Katsuki had called Izuku, apologetic and hesitant, the first night he had returned. Izuku had absolved him of his responsibility. He laughed. 

“Kacchan,” he said, “It’s okay. You have finals in a couple of days. You’ve put so much of your life on hold for me. Think about yourself for once.” And so Katsuki did, trying hard to ignore the guilt that burned in his stomach.

As Izuku hung up, he felt the same guilt burn, but for a different reason. He knew that Katsuki would be livid once he learned the truth of what would go on the day of his final. But Izuku knew that the other would focus so much on him that his grades would slip. He couldn’t be the reason that happened. 

The boys’ exchanges were few and far in between. Katsuki had not only himself, but his hopeless friends to worry about. He was on the verge of throwing one of them off of a cliff if they couldn’t pull their heads out of their asses and remember the quadratic formula that he had been drilling into their heads for the better part of a week. Some people may just be hopeless , Katsuki thought to himself. 

Izuku’s days blustered around. He spoke with many different people - anesthesiologists, surgeons, nurses, techs, in essence anyone who would be vital in helping care for him before, during, and after the surgery. Inko’s time was split between work and her son. Izuku was worried that his mother was neglecting herself. One conversation with Mitsuki Bakugou later resulted in Inko being half-dragged out of the hospital. The time seemed to rush in, unending as the tide, and soon it was the day of the surgery.

Izuku was scheduled to go down to the operating room at two in the afternoon. Katsuki’s final started at two. A laughing, delirious voice in Izuku’s head mumbled But which of us will win? Which of us will finish our battle first? Izuku tried to push the thought out of his mind as he texted Kirishima. 

The students' mornings were filled with paper exams, and their practical was in the afternoon. Izuku was too nervous to do anything other than send a quick ‘good luck’ text to Katsuki. Even though he knew he only had himself to blame for it, there was a tiny pang of disappointment when he didn’t receive one in kind. 

But he reached out to Kirishima, and by extension Kaminari.

Mr. The Rock Johnson 

Izu: hey kiri

Sorry to bother you today i know u have finals

But i wanted to ask a favor

Kiri: hey mido my guy!

Dont sweat about it!

What can i do for ya?

Izu: i know that youve all been super stressed for finals

And i know kacchans had to go through a lot

Do you think youd be able to take him out for some fun?

Ill pay for everything!

Its just,,,

If i were nt in the hospital right now id want to, yknow, do something nice for him

But i cant right now

So i,,,thought id ask you?

If you cant its absolutely no worries

I just wanted to ask

Kiri: mido,,,

Im honored that you would trust me with this

Truthfully

Kaminari and i were lowkey planning on kidnapping him for the night

So it works out great!

And dont worry about paying for anything man

Izu: kiri i cant ask you to pay for something im asking you to do

Kiri: mido seriously its no big deal

Id rather you save your money

And mayhaps,,,,,,

When you get out of the hospital,,,,,,

You and senor grumpy can do something special

Izu: ……

Thanks kiri

I truly owe you one

Kiri: dont sweat it!

Just focus on getting better and well call it even

Shit

I gotta head out for our lit final

Ill text you afterwards!

Izu: good luck!!!!

Izuku sighed, resting his phone against his sternum. Now that that was done, he was left only with his thoughts and the time slipping by. 

Inko appeared around noon. Their moods were muted, nerves building under the surface. For a long while, they just sat together. Izuku wouldn’t let go of his mother’s hand until his nurse and one of the hospital’s transporters entered the room. 

“Alright, Izuku,” the nurse said. Her cheerful demeanor was a little dimmed. Izuku felt guilt at the thought that he might be the cause. “We’re going to get you ready to go down to pre-op. Once the surgery is done, we’ll bring you right back up here. We talked to the OR staff and they suggested just bypassing PACU and coming back up to us.” Izuku nodded. The nurse walked to his side and began fiddling with his oxygen tank while the transporter confirmed his information. Inko helped him clear some of his personal effects from the bed. He paused, though, once Squishchan was in his hands. He hesitated. The nurse looked over. 

“Oh, who is this handsome little man?” She asked, smiling gently. Izuku flushed.

“He’s, uh, Squishchan. My, my boyfriend gave him to me.” The nurse smiled, cooing. She looked over the scene once.

“If you’d like, Izuku, your mom can come down with us to pre-op. Once they’re ready to take you into the OR, mom can hold onto Squishchan for you. Sounds good?” Izuku nodded.

“Thanks,” he said, voice wobbling. The nurse’s words had held no condescension, no judgment. Although it was obvious she was more used to working with younger kids, the time that she took to allow him his comfort item meant a lot to him. The nurse’s eyes crinkled at him when she looked down, her smile hidden behind her mask. Izuku hoped his own smile reached her. 

Inko helped him loop his mask on before the group began its journey. As they drove through the halls and rolled down in the elevator, Izuku kept his eyes down. His hands fiddled with the plush in his hands. If he pretended hard enough, he could almost imagine it was Katsuki’s hand he was holding instead of his stuffed counterpart. 

The group arrived in pre-op. The air was warmer and the lights were dimmed. Nurses converged - one received report from his nurse, a few others helped him transfer from his hospital bed to one of the OR stretchers. The nurse assigned to him came to say goodbye and to introduce the one taking care of him before surgery. Izuku said goodbye, wondering if this would be the last time they would ever speak. 

His pre-op nurse drew the curtains before explaining the various things they needed to do. His mother helped him change from his hospital gown to a paper one used by the OR team. The nurse helped him sit up. He leaned against his mother as the nurse placed ECG leads on his back. They helped him sit back and Inko walked over to his feet, slipping the grippy socks on in place of his old ones. Once he was properly ‘dressed’, the nurse opened the curtains and a few people stepped in. 

They were the anesthesiologist, the attending surgeon, the circulating nurse, and the charge nurse. He remembered them from meetings earlier in the week.

The surgical team went over what would happen during the surgery, general information about the anesthesia he would be given, and what his immediate recovery would likely look like. Izuku listened along, nodding occasionally. Consent forms were signed by Inko, as Izuku was still a minor, and had been given narcotic pain medication within the last 24 hours. They waited in silence for a bit before two people in scrubs came to collect him. They stood back a bit, giving them time to say their goodbyes.

Inko sat on the edge of his bed, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. Her eyes were sad even as she smiled. In the strongest voice she could muster, she spoke.

“Be strong, baby. I’ll see you on the other side.” Izuku sniffed.

“I love you, mama.” His voice was wobbly, close to tears.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Inko’s voice broke on the last word. They pulled away. Izuku looked down at Squishchan. Goodbye, Kacchan, he thought, I’ll see you soon. Maybe. Izuku kissed the top of his head before handing the plush to his mother. She leaned over and kissed his forehead. Inko waved as Izuku rolled out of sight. Just as the door closed behind him, Izuku thought he could hear a sob. 

The lights of the hallway flashed before his eyes. People leaned over him and bustled around. The anesthesiologist came over and said something that Izuku couldn’t quite hear. Something burned as it was pushed through his IV. Hands unhooked his surgical mask from his face and placed a plastic one.

“Take a deep breath and count backwards from ten.” Izuku did so.

Ten.

Izuku’s eyes fluttered as a rush of exhaustion hit him. 

Nine.

Voices chattered and faded. 

Eight.

The lights above him flashed bright. 

Seven.

He heard beeping, beating in tandem with his heart. 

Six.

Goodnight, moon. Goodnight, stars. 

Five.

Don’t go gentle into that good night. 

Four.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

Three.

Goodbye, Kacchan. Goodbye, Mom. 

Two.

Goodbye, All Might. Goodbye, sun.

One. 

Goodbye, everyone. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki was on top of the world. The exhaustion and stress of the past week was made worth it. His tests were a breeze. He finished first out of all his classmates every single time. Strolling into the practical exam felt like just another day. 

As Katsuki began the process of changing into his hero costume, he looked down at his unlocked phone. Izuku’s message from this morning sat on the screen. 

All Might My Beloved

Izu: Good luck kacchan!!!!

Kacchan: Thanks nerd

It felt odd to him that Izuku hadn’t texted him back. He shrugged. Perhaps Izuku was afraid of interrupting him during his finals today. He wouldn’t put it past the other to hold those kinds of thoughts. A buzzing kind of queasiness began to settle deep in his stomach. He blamed it on the exam, slamming his locker door closed with more force than was strictly necessary. 

As he stood in the crowd of students listening to the instructions for their practical final, he couldn’t shake the growing feeling that something wasn’t right. He grimaced as their teams were called out. His partner, Yaoyorozu, waved at him as he ambled over. 

“Hey,” Katsuki said. 

“Good afternoon, Bakugou,” she replied, “I hope the first round of exams went well for you!”

“You too, Yaoyorozu.” If Momo was thrown off by his use of her last name, she didn’t show it. She nodded at him. He nodded back. The two departed for the observation room.

Katsuki was glad to have her as a partner for the exam. During the interim between the instructions and their turn, their conversation was short and to the point. Momo occasionally pointed out parts of their classmates' strategies but otherwise was quiet. Katsuki, in turn, would reply with things that he had noticed. When their time came to take the field, the two worked seamlessly. Momo took the lead for their battle plan. They ended their battle with minimal losses and walked back into the observation room. 

Momo glanced to his side as if she expected him to leave. He shrugged and turned to her.

“Good plan.” He paused. “It was…nice to work with you. Thanks.” Momo smiled at him. 

“Always a pleasure, Bakugou. In truth, I’ve been observing your fighting style. Would you ever be interested in sparring with me? My quirkless hand-to-hand could use some work and Midoriya’s been telling me how much training with you helped him when he was first getting a handle on Blackwhip.” Katsuki blinked.

“I’d, uh, I’d like that. I saw how well you were able to adapt your plan earlier. Maybe we could talk shop about that too?” Katsuki felt his face flushing as he spoke. Momo smiled and clasped her hands together.

“I’d be delighted to! Perhaps Midoriya can join us once he’s out of the hospital.” Katsuki huffed a small laugh.

“I’ll ask him next time I see him.” Momo smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Aizawa announcing the scores of their exam. He and Momo had passed with flying colors and, with their didactic classes in mind, firmly held the top two ranks in their class. Katsuki smirked, despite himself. That shitty feeling from earlier must’ve been nothing. After all, he passed his exams with no problem. What else could there be to worry about?

Kirishima and Kaminari, it turned out, quickly proved themselves to be one. As soon as the two had entered the locker room, Katsuki’s victory over his schoolwork had turned into a nonstop pester-fest. Kaminari hung off of one of his arms as he tried to change. He was stuck, holding his sweaty shirt in front of him and resisting the urge to bite the other’s hand. 

He locked eyes with KIrishima, hoping that if he stared hard enough the two would either get the hint or vaporize in front of his eyes. 

“C’mon, Bakugou,” Kaminari whined, “Celebrate with us! We just passed a hard ass test!” Katsuki flung the other’s arm off and snarled. Kaminari just laughed. 

“He’s right, man,” Kirishima said, pulling on his school shirt, “We’ve been working our asses off. We deserve a break.” Katsuki groaned.

“Just because you two extras don’t know the concept of hard work doesn’t mean I have to suffer through it,” Katsuki sneered, “Besides, I’m gonna visit Deku.” Katsuki finally pulled on his school shirt. When his head popped through, he saw the two staring at him. “The fuck do you want, idiots?” Something in Kirishima’s eyes softened. 

It was Kaminari who spoke. “Don’t you think Midoriya’d want you to celebrate? What do you think he’d tell you to do?” Low fucking blow, Dunce Face. Something must’ve shown on his face because Kirishima quickly stepped in between them. 

“Look, man, Midoriya asked us to take you out to celebrate. I think,” Kirishima paused, looking to the side, “I think he feels bad he can’t be here to celebrate with you, so he asked me to make sure you have fun tonight.” Something in Katsuki’s chest deflated. He looked down. He thought of telling them that he’d rather celebrate in that shitty hospital room than with them before stopping. He could just imagine the guilty sadness in Izuku’s eyes if he thought he was the reason Katsuki wasn’t celebrating. In truth, Katsuki just…missed him. He missed being able to see Izuku every day, even if it was under blinding fluorescent lights. He looked back up at the other two. They were standing in front of him, hands clenched into fists and faces blazing with burning excitement. 

“Fine,” he grumbled out, “Let’s go.” The other two cheered. 

That was how Katsuki found himself, two hours later, sitting in a raucous group of teenagers in the middle of a karaoke bar. Katsuki fucking hated karaoke. I should’ve just told them to fuck off, Katsuki thought. He grumbled under his breath and sank further into the couch he was on, his arms crossed in front of his chest. In the forefront of his vision, Ochako and Mina were singing the most off-key duet of some American pop song. His classmates were scattered around the room. Momo and Jirou were curled up together. Shoto and Sero were looking at each other when they thought that the other wasn’t looking. Even Shinsou was there, Mineta giving up his invitation to do something likely disgusting. Katsuki let out a sigh and pinched his brows with his fingers. Five more minutes and then I’m fucking out of here, Katsuki thought. If he hurried, he thought that he could make it in time to catch Izuku before visiting hours were over. 

Kirishima stood in front of him. Katsuki glared. The redhead winced and extended a hand. 

Over the ruckus of the room he yelled. “Wanna get out of here?” Katsuki took his hand as fast as humanly possible. He had been given an out from hell he was sure as fuck going to take it. He and Kirishima exited the room. The sounds of his classmates enjoying themselves was muffled through the sturdy wood. Katsuki leaned against the closed door, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Sorry, man,” Kirishima said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, “Didn’t realize Kaminari had booked a whole karaoke thing.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki ground out. He pushed up off the wall and started towards the exit, shoving his hands into his pockets. Kirishima jogged to his side.

“Wanna get ramen?” He asked. Katsuki looked at him, eyes narrowing. “C’mon, man. We’ll go to that joint you like with the super spicy ramen. I’ll pay.” 

“Sure, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki said after a moment. 

The ramen shop was dimly lit when they sat down. Katsuki melted into the worn cushions, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. 

He had been coming to this shop for as long as he could remember. He had memories of sitting on his father’s lap, trying to steal his chopsticks. He remembered coming here after the UA Entrance Exam, way off his diet plan but well deserved. He remembered curling up next to Izuku when they were both children, sharing a bowl between the two of them. His mother had always chastised him for eating more than his fair share, but Izuku always stopped before he did. Now that he thought about it, the last time the two had been there together had been when Izuku started to get sick for the first time. He hoped that soon, he could bring the other boy here with him, remembrance and repentance in one. The waitress came over.

“Hey, kiddo,” she said, “The usual?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki said, “Thanks.” The waitress nearly dropped her notebook in shock. 

“Katsuki Bakugou? Saying thanks? Be real with me, kid, have you been taken by pod people or somethin’? Do you need help? Blink twice if this guy is holding you hostage.” Katsuki snorted. 

“Fuck you!” Katsuki laughed as he said it. The waitress cackled alongside him. 

“Now who’s your kidnapper?” She asked, still chuckling. 

“‘S Shitty Hair, he’s one of the extras in my class. Good in a fight, though.” 

“Aww, our little Kacchan finally made friends? Oh, I always knew you could do it!” Katsuki rolled his eyes.

Kirishima finally spoke up. “Um, hello. I’m Eijiro Kirishima. I’m Bakugou’s friend.” The waitress blinked. 

“Oh, you’re so sweet! What can I get for ya, sweetie?” Kirishima blinked, thrown by the abrupt tone shift. He gave the woman his order, half in a daze. She nodded and turned away, ruffling both of their hair as she left. Katsuki snapped his teeth at her retreating hand. She flipped him off, laughing again. Katsuki leaned back against the worn leather, grinning. 

“So…” Kirishima started, “I’m guessing you come here a lot?” Katsuki shrugged. Kirishima shrugged back. The table was silent for a long moment before Katsuki leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He cleared his throat.

“Kirishima.” The boy in question blinked, unused to Katsuki referring to him by name. 

“What’s up, man?” Katsuki sighed, looking to the side. He felt the tips of his ears warm up. 

“I need to ask you a question.” Kirishima leaned forwards.

“Anything, man. Are you alright? Is Midoriya alright?” Kirishima’s brows wrinkled. Katsuki scrubbed his face with one hand. 

“During the winter break, I-” Katsuki looked down at his hands. “I asked Deku to marry me. Gave him a ring and everything. He said yes.” Katsuki didn’t have to look up at the squeaking noise coming from the person in front of him to know Kirishima was near tears. Katsuki groaned under his breath. Even the thought of asking was embarrassing, but he had to do it now before he lost his nerve.

“Will you- fuck, will you be my best man?” Katsuki looked up as he said it, locking eyes with Kirishima. The redhead was blubbering, smiling so wide Katsuki winced just looking at it.

“Bakugou,” he said, “I would be absolutely honored to be your best man.” Kirishima’s voice was soft, almost reverent as he spoke. He sniffed. Katsuki rolled his eyes and held out a napkin. The redhead accepted it and dabbed clumsily at his face. 

“Don’t get so worked up, idiot. It won’t be for a while.” Kirishima laughed, sounding wet and joyful. 

“I look forward to it.” He leaned closer to Katsuki, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thank you for trusting me with this.” Katsuki nodded, decidedly looking away from Kirishima’s smiling face. Katsuki was officially emotion-ed out. 

“Right,” he said, “Let’s never speak of this again.” Kirishima laughed. Just then, the waitress brought over their food. Katsuki nodded at her and dug in, not waiting for his tablemate.

The two boys enjoyed their food and, once the sky had dipped into night, rushed back to the dorms to make it in time for curfew. They slipped in with one minute to spare. Kirishima panted at his side, hands on his knees. Katsuki looked up.

Aizawa was leaning against one of the walls. His eyes looked exhausted, older than they had been just a few hours ago. When he saw the two he stepped forwards. 

“Kirishima, go get ready for bed. I need to talk to Bakugou.” Kirishima nodded, still out of breath, and made his way to the elevator. As the doors closed, the redhead threw one last look at him, worry sharpening his features. 

Aizawa turned to him and sighed. “Bakugou, I need you to go upstairs and pack a bag. Bring enough for a couple of days.”

“Sir?” Aizawa locked eyes at him and Katsuki could see something that looked almost like hope dying in his eyes. 

“It’s Midoriya.”

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s guts turned to ice. A terrible buzzing echoed through his ears. He heard a screaming beat. He realized it was his heart. 

“What?” Katsuki’s voice was small, afraid. Almost as if he thought if he spoke too loud the spell would be broken and his life would be over. Aizawa grasped Katsuki by the shoulders.

“I don’t have all the details yet, but Midoriya’s mother called me and asked to bring you to the hospital.” Katsuki’s hand clamped around Aizawa’s wrist. It was grounding, a warmth seeping through the calluses of his hand. Katsuki felt his breath quicken in his chest. He clenched his fists, willing the panic away. 

“Okay,” he said shakily, “Does my mom know?” 

“I’m not sure. I will call her to let her know that you’re leaving campus after hours with supervision. The rest is up to Midoriya’s mother.” Katsuki nodded again, feeling numb. Aizawa pushed his shoulder forward, walking with him to the elevator.

As if in a theater, Katsuki watched himself enter his room and pack a bag. His hands shook as they haphazardly tossed things in, uncaring of wrinkles or creases. He moved next to the bathroom, grabbing his essentials. He turned, surveying the room, before grabbing his computer and chargers. 

Katsuki heaved a deep breath, his head pressed against the closed wooden door of his room. His face felt numb, his hands didn’t feel real. Nothing felt real. Katsuki clawed at the doorknob, taking in little gasping breaths as he walked in line with Aizawa. One of the man’s broad hands was stationed firmly on his back. 

In low tones, the man murmured to Katsuki, instructing him to breathe, to count to ten. He recognized the tactics from the times he had needed to help Izuku through panic attacks. The thought of Izuku sent a shard of fire slicing through his heart. 

Aizawa herded him to a car. Only after the door slammed closed did Katsuki realize that Aizawa had needed to buckle him in like a child. His face burned and he felt wetness prick at the corners of his eyes. 

The car ride passed in a blur and next thing that Katsuki knew, he was standing in front of the doors to the PICU. He turned to Aizawa. The teacher looked so small in the fluorescent light. The dark fabric of the jumpsuit seemed washed out. The doors to the unit opened, Inko Midoriya bustling forwards. She pulled Katsuki into her arms. After a moment, he raised his arms to do the same. He felt her trembling against him. Inko pulled away.

“Auntie?” Katsuki asked. Internally, he winced at how young his voice sounded. She reached a hand up and brushed his cheek before turning to Aizawa. 

“Thank you for bringing him, sir,” she said, her voice trembling, “I appreciate it.”

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll be staying until Bakugou’s parents come to pick him up or have him return to school. If you need me, I’ll be in the cafeteria.” Aizawa turned away. 

“There are vending machines on the same floor as the cafeteria. They don’t sell coffee there until seven am.” Katsuki had no idea what compelled him to say it. Aizawa stopped at his words. The man deflated, hanging his head. He let out a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘fuck’ before waving over his shoulder and continuing his walk towards the elevators. Katsuki turned back to Inko.

“Auntie, what’s going on? Is he-” Katsuki trailed off. Inko smiled at him, wobbly and tear-stained.

“He’s still alive, sweetie.” Katsuki nearly fainted with relief. “I just thought you might want the chance to say goodbye,” Inko let out a choked sob, “just in case.” 

The surgery was a success, the doctors had said, but we don’t know if he’ll make it through the night. Katsuki sat numbly at the nurses station as the words replayed in his mind, running together on a continuous loop. He heard the sound of approaching footsteps and watched as his parents barreled into Inko. Mitsuki pulled her in, speaking softly in her ear. Masaru looked around before spotting him. His father approached slowly. Distantly, Katsuki thought that he looked like someone approaching a cornered wild animal. 

Katsuki was too tired to feel offended. He was too tired to feel much of anything anymore. Masaru’s hand touched his shoulder. The man knelt down so that he was eye level with his son. His eyes were shining, flashing in the dim fluorescence of the nighttime ward. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he started, “How’re ya doing?” Katsuki shrugged, not knowing what to say. He sagged into his father’s touch. His head fell down into his hands, elbows braced on the tops of his knees. Something shifted next to him, and Katsuki felt his father’s hand dragging along his back. Katsuki’s shoulders shook as he fought back a sob.

“I- I didn’t get to tell him that I love him. I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Katsuki choked out, his face growing warm and wet. He let out a quiet sob as his father pulled him to his chest. The fabric against Katsuki’s face grew damp. He sniffled.

“He knows, Katsuki. I’m sure of it.” Masaru’s voice was soft but fierce. He clutched his son tighter at his words. 

“Then why didn’t he tell me? About the surgery?” Katsuki said, his voice little more than a whisper. His hands clenched into fists, wrinkling his father’s shirt. 

“I’m sure he had a reason, Katsuki. You’ll just have to ask him when he wakes up.” Don’t you mean ‘if’? Katsuki’s traitorous mind replied. Masaru leaned in just a bit. “And I do mean when, son. I can just feel it. Izuku’s a strong kid.“

“The strongest.” The two went silent. Mitsuki and Inko still whispered amongst themselves, but their voices receded as they made their way to Izuku’s room. 

Katsuki wasn’t sure exactly how long they sat together in silence. It was long enough for the rays of the sun to begin to peek through the clouds. It felt like an omen.

“C’mon, son. Let’s go see him.” Katsuki nodded and the two stood up before walking over to the familiar room. Katsuki took a deep, slow breath before looping the face mask behind his ears and stepping through the door. 

Time moved in slow, languid pulls, moments melding together into an incomprehensible mess. Disjointed images flashed through his mind. A man with half his face torn off. Metal welding against flesh. The unending thrum of prisons made from possession. A hand reaching out to him, so very familiar it made Izuku’s stomach burn. Flashes of light filtered through the waves above his head in little spurts. They lit up the darkness like stars. Muffled sounds echoed around him, just far enough away that he couldn’t make them out. 

Izuku’s body felt suspended. Cool, dry nothingness buoyed him in the floating night sky. His hair drifted around him and wasn’t that a sight. He looked down at his arms. They were hale and whole, strong as they had been before he had collapsed in the threshold of Heights Alliance. 

Oh, he thought, Now I’m dead for sure. 

A voice laughed behind him, high and melodious. “Not quite, beloved.”

Izuku turned slowly to the voice, body dripping into place like molasses over potatoes. He finally locked eyes with the being behind him. 

It was One For All, as they had appeared to him when he was rescued from All For One. A deity borrowing the shape of his mother. One For All opened their arms, and Izuku was pulled into their embrace. Izuku clutched at One For All’s shoulders, the familiar fabric of his mother’s favorite cardigan bunching under his fingers. The being spun around with him in their arms, laughing.

“It’s good to see you again,” Izuku said, breathless. One For All’s smile softened and their hand came up to stroke his cheek. Izuku leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. When Izuku opened his eyes next, their face had dropped into sadness. 

“What’s wrong?” One For All looked up, eyes blazing iridescent. Suddenly, Izuku remembered their last conversation. “...oh. 

“You’ve come for my answer, haven’t you?” One For All looked down, nodding silently. Their hand began to draw away, but Izuku held fast to their wrist. One For All blinked. Izuku sighed. Steeling himself, he nodded. “I’m ready to tell you.”

“What is your answer, beloved? Will you stay here on Earth with the other half of your heart, where things will hurt you and nothing is guaranteed? Or will you join your predecessors in the sky where nothing hurts and everything is beautiful?” 

Are you going to cowboy up, or just lay there and bleed? Izuku really wasn’t sure why that particular meme flashed into his mind. 

“Will I ever see you again?” Izuku asked, a sudden desperation burning in his stomach. 

“Once it is your time, beloved.” Izuku nodded.

Izuku opened his mouth to give his answer.

He opened his eyes to a painful burning. Light seared his retinas and he flinched. He heard someone curse softly and the redness of light coming through his eyelids shut off, leaving him in blissful cool darkness. 

He felt raspy. There had been something down his throat. Recently, too, if how much it ached was anything to go by. Something lifted his head into the air. There was a soft whirring sound. Izuku flopped his head over, cheek cushioned on something soft. His eyes fluttered open. There were vague blobs flitting about the room, blurry figures looming over him. He could just make out a patch of ashy yellow, like pale sunshine on a cloudy day, bobbing on two of the figures.

Huh, Izuku thought, that sleep paralysis demon looks a bit like Kacchan.

Izuku passed back out. 

When he woke up again, for good this time, the room was much clearer and everything made so much more sense. The fluorescent lights stayed off. Instead, the room was lit by the gentle warmth of the sun. He looked to one side. His nose ran into something squishy. He leaned back. It was Squishchan. The plush was propped up next to him on the pillow. His stuffed little nubs held the stem of a single sunflower between them. Awed, Izuku reached over and brushed a finger over one of the petals. It had been so long since he had been able to see one. There was a quiet snuffle on the other side of him. Izuku looked over. 

Katsuki was slumped over the bed. His head was pillowed on one broad forearm. Part of his hair crumpled beneath the weight. His eyes were closed and his face slack. 

Izuku ran one hand through the spiky locks. Katsuki snuffled again, burrowing further into the touch. Izuku smiled.

He had survived. The battle was one. 

But was it enough to win the war?

Chapter Text

Izuku lulled himself into a calm stupor, raking his hands through Katsuki’s locks. He had been awake for two hours after waking up and only realized it when the nurse came to give him an incentive spirometer. He thanked her and set it to the side, promising to do his exercises in a bit. She raised an eyebrow but let it be, laughing as she exited the room.

The noise startled Katsuki awake. The blonde blinked slowly as his head rose off of his forearm. The blinks were sleepy, catlike, and Izuku’s heart melted as he watched. Katsuki’s eyes eventually focused enough so that they locked on Izuku.

“Hi, Kacchan,” Izuku croaked, waving weakly. His voice, though it had been rough before, was all but destroyed. Katsuki froze, his eyes wide and his pupils like pinpricks. 

“Izuku?” Katsuki’s voice was soft, hesitant. It was almost as if Katsuki thought that if he spoke too loud, Izuku would disappear before his eyes. His brows crinkled. One hand trembled, clenching the sheets. 

He lunged forwards, sprawling across Izuku’s bed to draw the boy into his arms. Katsuki pressed his face into the juncture of Izuku’s neck. Shocked, Izuku raised his arms slowly. He stroked one hand down Katsuki’s back, noticing it was shaking under his touch.

“Kacchan?” Izuku asked.

Katsuki spoke into his neck. “Shut up. Just let me have this, you fucking asshole.”

“Huh?” Katsuki pulled away. His hands slid down Izuku’s arms, cupping his hands as the other’s head rose to lock eyes. Despite the gentleness of his touch, fury blazed in Katsuki’s eyes. “Kacchan?” The boy sighed. His hands clenched tighter around Izuku’s.

“Fuck,” he whispered, “Probably shouldn’t be having this conversation. You just woke up.” Izuku frowned.

“Kacchan, please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something wrong?” Izuku sat up straighter. “Oh, how’d your final go yesterday? Did you pass?” Katsuki’s jaw clenched, and Izuku was hit with the distinct feeling that he had somehow fucked up.

“Yeah. I passed my final. Three days ago.” Izuku blinked.

“Three days?”

“Three. Days.” Katsuki shut his eyes, brows furrowing in anger. “You’ve been asleep for three days after the surgery you didn’t fucking tell me about which, according to your very distressed mother, only had a 50% chance that you’d survive it. ” Izuku winced. 

“I-” Katsuki looked back up. The grip on his hands tightened again. 

“Fuck. Izuku, I don’t think you really understand it. I went out with my friends, thinking everything was alright, and came back to Aizawa rushing me over here because your mom wanted me to be able to say goodbye. Do you know how fucking scary that was? Thinking you were safe, thinking you were just resting, and some asshole’s cutting you open like a piece of meat?” Izuku’s eyes watered. Don’t cry, dammit, he thought to himself. It was his fault, anyways. He didn’t deserve to be upset right now. Katsuki’s eyes watered. He spoke in a gruff voice. “Just, just tell me why. Why you didn’t tell me. Please?” Katsuki’s voice broke. Izuku nodded, his lower lip trembling. He took a shaking breath.

“Can Kacchan come sit with me? Please?” Katsuki’s eyes softened as he nodded. The blonde stood up and lowered the side rail before sliding into bed, arranging their bodies so that Izuku’s face lay next to his ears. 

“Talk, shitty nerd,” Katsuki mumbled, “And don’t leave anything out. I need to know how pissed at you I should be.” Despite the situation, Izuku laughed. 

“Well, the day before you left for the training camp, the doctor came to talk to us. To discuss our options going forward. They…weren’t great. The tumors weren’t reacting to the medicine as well as they should have been. Our two options were surgery and…hospice.” Katsuki’s hands, wrapped around his shoulders, tightened at the words. “The surgery didn’t have a high chance of working, but I decided to go for it. I figured ‘Why not? It’s not like the situation could get much worse. The doctors wanted to give me an extra week to recover, and so the day of your final ended up being the surgery day. They said I couldn’t really wait any longer.

“But I felt bad. You’ve given up so much of your life for me, having to take care of me and put up with this shit. I wanted you to just have this time to yourself, to be able to focus on yourself for once. I thought that if I told you, you’d freak out and do poorly on your exams.” Izuku sighed. When he spoke next, his voice wobbled. “I didn’t want you to jeopardize your future, your success, over something that might not work for someone who might not live until graduation. So, I hid it. I asked Mom not to tell you.” Izuku panted a little as he finished. His head flopped down to rest on Katsuki’s collarbone. One hand clenched in the fabric of Katsuki’s hoodie. 

“Izuku,” Katsuki said. His voice was low, but fierce and laden with emotion. “I want you to listen to me now, okay?” Izuku nodded against his chest, not daring to look up. 

“All these months I’ve been helping you out. Do you think they were just me fucking around? Me feeling pity for you? No. I knew what I was fuckin’ getting into. And I was happy to do it. Remember what I asked you on Christmas? That promise is for fuckin’ life. I don’t give a shit if you’re demolishing buildings or you can’t even get out of bed. You’re it for me, Izuku. I know you can’t see it, but having you in my life makes it worth living. I know you were just trying to protect me, to give me some time to fuck around. But hearing that you went through a risky-ass procedure and that you might not make it without you even telling me? That was the scariest shit I’ve ever been through.

“More than when All For One took you. More than being kidnapped by the League. Because you didn’t tell me. It’s your life, and I won’t control it, I’m not that much of a prick. But hearing you say that you’d rather me focus on a shitty final that I coulda passed with my eyes closed than being there for you? It hurt. Because it says to me that you think your life is worth less than my fuckin’ grade in school, than my future as a pro. And that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“Because you are worth so much more than that. You are worth the riches of the earth, the stars in the sky, every particle of the universe, and beyond. You’re worth so much more than some stupid-ass test.” Katsuki took a shaky breath. He reached out and brought Izuku’s face up so that their eyes met. Katsuki’s hands cradled Izuku’s face, the touch so delicate, so gentle that it made Izuku’s tears begin to fall. 

“Goddamnit, Izuku. My life is completely meaningless without you in it. I can’t bear the thought of having to live without you by my side.” Katsuki’s eyes were burning, glistening in the half light of the sun. Izuku sobbed once, burying his face in the other’s chest. 

Katsuki pulled him in, squeezing like he meant to tuck Izuku into his chest so he could sit in the space where his heart belonged. Because to him, it was the truth. Izuku was his heart, his guiding star, the voice that called him home from destruction. There was no Katsuki Bakugou without Izuku Midoriya. It was a fact written in the stars, trailing through the eons and across the universes, embedded into the very atoms that made them up.

Izuku sniveled into Katsuki’s rapidly dampening shirt, mumbling a litany of ‘I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry’s as the blonde curled over him. 

“I love you so much, Izuku,” Katsuki whispered, his voice half-choked, “Never forget that.” 

The boys cried themselves out, falling limp and exhausted onto the bed. Katsuki traced one hand down the line of Izuku’s face, finger skimming gently over the fragile skin. Izuku’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, but he smiled softly at the other.

“I love you so much, Kacchan. All I want if for you to be happy.” 

“Then stay, Freckles. Stay until we’re both ready to go.”

“I promise.” 

When Dr. Saroyan came in, Katsuki was in a much better mood. He refused to vacate his seat. If the doctor was phased by it, she didn’t show it. Instead, she smiled at Izuku. Though he couldn’t see her mouth, he knew it was genuine. The crinkling lines around her eyes were deep, holding none of the fear they had the last time they had spoken.

“It’s good to see you awake, Izuku,” Dr. Saroyan said. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry for sleeping so long.” Izuku was surprised when she threw her head back and laughed. 

“Don’t apologize for that, hon. You needed rest. Listening to your body’s cues is important, especially going forward.” Going forward? Izuku thought. Does that mean… Dr. Saroyan laughed again, smaller this time but no less joyful.

“Yes, Izuku. It means the surgery was a success. The team was able to remove all of the tumors with minimal effect to the surrounding tissue.” Izuku flushed as he realized that he had mumbled his thoughts. He felt the rumbling of Katsuki’s laugh reverberate in his bones. He hesitated. 

“It’s really gone?” He asked, his voice hesitant. Dr. Saroyan nodded.

“I’ve talked with your mother about next steps. We’re going to do one last round of chemotherapy to make sure we’ve gotten rid of all the cells. It’ll be a much smaller dose than your other ones, so hopefully side effects will be less strong than they had been. Then, if everything goes well,” Dr. Saroyan paused for dramatic effect, “We’ll be able to send you home. To stay.” Izuku let out a choked off noise. 

He hadn’t let himself even think about home for so long. It was too painful, especially considering the last moments he had spent there. It was more than he had ever dared hope, much less plan for. He felt his eyes grow hot and he sniffled. One hand came up to wipe at his flooding eyes.

“I- I can go home?” He laughed, his voice watery. “I can go home!” He turned to Katsuki, sobbing and laughing. “I can go home, Kacchan!” Katsuki chuckled. His eyes were mysteriously damp.

“Yeah, Sunshine. You can go home.” Izuku blubbered, alternating between thanking the doctor and mumbling to himself in awe. Dr. Saroyan excused herself with a laugh. Izuku dissolved into a puddle of happy tears. Katsuki cackled. 

Things were finally looking up. 

Class 1💅

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: gear up fuckers

Mr. The Rock Johnson: ???????

Discount Zuko: bakugou?

Is everything alright?

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: hope yall are good at planning parties

Gay-lien Queen: 👀👀👀👀

Pikachu: 👀👀👀👀👀👀

Pete Wentz: you seem happy

Like out of character happy

What happened

Wait

Is

Is

Lasdkjfasdoilfnsledkfjewi

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: yep

Pete Wentz: ASD;KLFSDIFN;LJIOS

OH MY GOD

I STG IF UR JOKING I WILL KILL U

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: bruh

Kirby: bakugou can you elaborate for us poor peasants

Sparky Sparky Boom Man: he’s coming home

Izuku’s coming home

Chapter Text

The next few weeks seemed both too long and too short. The anticipation of getting to go home, to start living his life again, buzzed under Izuku’s skin. It almost seemed palpable. The staff of the unit seemed to feel it too. After all, any discharge is cause to celebrate, as it means the worst is over and recovery can begin. 

Still, Izuku spent most of his days as he had been previously: sleeping. Dr. Saroyan hadn’t been kidding when she said that his body needed rest. He would wake up just to fall asleep an hour or two later. Someone would be talking to him and turn to him only to find Izuku snoozing against the hospital linens. Luckily, most of the conversations he was engaged in weren’t heavy on the importance scale. Still, he always apologized profusely when he woke back up. He was usually brushed off with a laugh. 

Katsuki seemed to have doubled down on his visits now that school was out. Izuku wasn’t sure if it was just him wanting to hang out or if there was still the lingering fear of Izuku slipping away if he looked away long enough. Izuku tried to bury the feelings of guilt, though Katsuki had forgiven him. 

His mother kept visiting him, though she had relaxed her frantic schedule. He and Inko had talked about it. Izuku had been worried about his mother’s health and if she was overworking herself or not taking enough time to rest. She admitted that she had let self-care fall more to the wayside. Izuku cried. He made her promise to start taking better care of herself, even threatening (jokingly, of course) to ask the nurses to not let her in if she looked tired. One of the nurses, who had been in the room at the time, turned to face her and did the ‘I’ve got my eyes on you’ hand gesture. Inko had snorted at the sight, and agreed.

One day, he had spoken over video chat with both Nedzu and Aizawa regarding his future at UA. As nerve-wracking as it had been, some small part of Izuku relaxed at getting reassurance from them. He wouldn’t be kicked out, nor would he be removed from the hero course. He confessed to not knowing if he had his quirk anymore. Both of them knew about One For All, and Izuku was too afraid to be anything other than aggressively honest. 

“Focus on your recovery for now, Midoriya,” Aizawa said, “Whether or not you still have One For All isn’t relevant at the moment. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, I’d like you to consider this. Have you ever considered becoming an underground hero?”

It was a daunting thought. He had never even considered going underground. It seemed so obvious in retrospect. Aizawa himself essentially fought quirkless, mainly using his own quirk to level the playing field. Izuku wouldn’t have that, obviously, but he’d fought villains miles out of his weight class and come out on top. A small, ugly part of him raged. Where had this been in middle school when he had needed the support and validation the most? Why did it only matter now? Izuku fought that train of thought down. It wouldn’t do any good to dwell on what could have been. 

Aizawa had ended the call with the promise to talk more with Izuku about going underground. Izuku sat back on the pillows. It seemed too good to be true. It was almost like a dream. He would survive. He would get to live his dream. He would live, not just get through the day, mourning what he never had. It was hope. He hadn’t allowed himself to hope for so long, for fear of lethal disappointment. This once, though, he let himself hope again.

And so the days ticked away. Vitals were taken, blood drawn meds given, and Izuku suddenly found himself awake on the morning of his discharge. Katsuki and Inko arrived right as visiting hours began.They sported twin grins, though Inko’s was much wobblier than Katsuki’s. Katsuki had a duffle bag thrown over one shoulder. Izuku recognized it as his mother’s, one she took on overnight trips. He laughed as they walked in. 

“You know discharge won’t happen for a while, right?” They both nodded. Inko came and sat on one side of him.

“We’re just really excited to take you home, sweetie,” she said. One hand reached up and stroked his face. Izuku leaned into the touch. 

“Yeah, Deku,” Katsuki said from his other side, “Hope you’re ready to be smothered. Auntie’s been busy.” 

“Oh no,” Izuku laughed. 

Deku . It had been such a long time since he had heard that name, longer still from Katsuki. It held a different weight now. The word wasn’t weighed down and heavy like they had been in middle school. It didn’t swoop in his stomach and inflate like they had when he rescued Eri. The word was warm, in a sense. There was no bite. Its edges were smooth. It was warm like the hand of someone you love, comforting as an embrace. It felt like the promise of home. 

Though Izuku passed the time before his discharge in relative peace, the same could not be said for his companions. Five minutes in and Katsuki started pacing. Inko kept getting up to check things - his oxygen, his ECG, his vitals, his pulse ox, the bathroom. When the nurse came in for his morning meds, she gestured to the two, mouthing ‘do you want me to kick them out’ from where she stood. Izuku shook his head. She nodded and proceeded to scan the medication into the computer before handing the med cup over to him.

“Alright, hon,” she said once he was finished, “Today’s the big day. Are you excited?” Izuku nodded.

“Very much so.” The nurse laughed. 

“Alright then. The doctor’s put in your discharge orders. I’m going to come back in a little bit to go over your discharge instructions with you. Once that’s settled, we’ll get you all squared away and get you home. Sounds good?”

“Definitely. May I ask a question?”

“Of course, hon. What’s up?”

Izuku flushed. “Can I get dressed in my clothes?” The nurse nodded.

“I’m just going to listen to your heart and lungs and then you can get dressed.” She helped him sit up and pressed the cold metal of her stethoscope to his back. At her prompting, Izuku breathed in and out. She nodded. 

“Alright, hon. You can go get dressed. I’ll get your discharge paperwork all ready. We’ll take your IV out right before you leave. I’ll be back. Do you need anything?” Izuku shook his head. With a wave, the nurse exited. 

“Ready to get dressed, sweetie?” Inko asked. Izuku nodded. Katsuki disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a wheelchair. Inko helped him transfer into the chair. The trio departed for the bathroom. The woman smiled and dropped the duffle on the ground. 

“I’ll leave you two to do this. Yell if you need me.” She walked out, closing the bathroom door behind her. Katsuki and Izuku looked at each other for a moment before the blonde pulled the bag over by its strap. 

“How’d you want to do this, Freckles?” Katsuki asked. 

“If you can help me stand so I can put pants on, that’d be great.” Katsuki nodded, unzipping the duffle. He threw a lump of fabric at Izuku’s head. The green haired boy flipped him off half-heartedly while laughing. 

Getting his shirt on was relatively easy. The hardest part was fiddling with the nasal cannula so it didn’t get caught in the fabric. Katsuki walked over and knelt in front of Izuku. He held one of Izuku’s ankles between both of his hands, shifting it off the footrest and onto the ground. He repeated the process with the other leg before folding the footrests up so they wouldn’t get in the way. Reaching over to make sure the chair was locked, Katsuki pulled the rest of Izuku’s clothes from his lap.

Katsuki rolled up the pant leg and looped it around Izuku’s ankle, doing the same to the other leg. He pulled the waist of the pants as far up Izuku’s legs as they could go before pulling back.

“Hands on my shoulders, nerd,” he said, voice soft and low. Izuku did so. Katsuki counted back on three and together they pushed up from the chair. Izuku’s arms tightened around Katsuki’s neck. Katsuki’s hands were on his hips, broad palms sturdy against his skin. Izuku tried to lift his arms to pull his pants up but couldn’t. 

“Hold on tight, nerd,” Katsuki said. In one swift motion, he pulled the pants up the rest of the way. Hands back on Izuku’s hips, he helped the other lower himself back into the wheelchair. Izuku panted, shaking. It had been a lot of exertion for him. As he was recovering his breath, he felt warmth circle his ankles once more. Fabric slid against the soles of his feet and suddenly his toes were cold and bare. Large, warm hands clasped his foot between them and rubbed, pushing warmth into the chilled appendage. Quickly after, something fuzzy and warm slid onto his foot. Finally recovered, Izuku looked down. 

Katsuki had replaced his hospital-issued grippy socks with fuzzy ones. They were adorned with little bunnies. Izuku recognized them as the ones Squishchan had been holding when they were introduced. Warmth bloomed in his stomach. Katsuki stood up, looking away. Izuku could see the little dusting of pink on the tips of his ears. 

“C’mon,” he said, “Your mom’s waiting.” Izuku smiled, nodding. Katsuki walked around his chair. The seat rumbled softly as they rolled out of the bathroom.

Inko was sitting next to the bed, chatting with one of the nurses. They both looked over as Izuku rolled forward. 

“Alright, kiddo. Time to go over discharge.” Izuku nodded, face splitting into a grin. 

The conversation passed quickly. After going over a short summary of what happened while Izuku was in the hospital, the nurse pointed out his first of many follow-up appointments. She also went over the medications he would need to take. Inko looked over at the two.

“We still need to pick those up, but I can do that later if you two just want to go straight home.” Before giving Izuku a chance to reply, Inko turned back to the nurse, nodding for her to continue. 

Inko and Katsuki ended up paying much more attention to the nurse’s instructions than Izuku did. He found himself drifting off, not quite sleeping but not quite awake. Though he was getting better, he was still weighed down by exhaustion. His body needed to recover, and it’d be a long time until his energy would come back up to what it had once been. More than once, Katsuki tapped him on the shoulder to bring him back. Izuku rubbed one eye, blinking sleepily. The nurse smiled. 

“Alright, I think that’s everything. Do you have any questions?” Izuku shook his head. “Great! I’m gonna have your mom sign a copy of the discharge instructions and then we’ll get you on your way.” 

While Inko and the nurse sorted out the finer details of discharge, a tech came in and removed his IV. The nurse came back, batting Katsuki’s hands away from the handles of his wheelchair. Katsuki grumbled under his breath.

“Sorry, Mr. Kacchan,” the nurse said, not sounding sorry in the least, “But we have a bit of a tradition for the kiddos leaving.” She pushed Izuku through the doors, before rolling down to the nurse’s station. They stopped in front of a wall. On the wall there was a large bell, the kind you see in old movies or in a Trader Joe’s. Izuku’s breath caught.

He remembered this bell. A patient would ring it when they left the ward. It was a celebratory event, one that meant the worst was over. He had rung it once. The first time he had been a patient in this ward. Izuku needed to be carried in order to reach it. He had been so afraid, worried that he might mess it up. One hand had clenched weakly in his mother’s hair. 

“Help me ring it, mama?” He had asked, whispering into her ear. She smiled at him and nodded. Wiping under her eyes, she grabbed his little hand in her own and gripped the rope. Together, they had rung in the end of Izuku’s treatment. So much had changed since then, but still he felt that curling fear. The nurse leaned over to lock the wheels and Izuku turned to his mother. She smiled at him, tears falling freely down her face. Katsuki slouched behind her, the normally stern lines of his face softened. Izuku swallowed.

He stood up with the nurse’s help and shuffled to the bell. The nurse kept a firm grip on his waist as he turned back, reaching his hand out. 

“Help me, mama?” He asked. His voice was louder than it had been when he was a child. It held fear and uncertainty and made him sound so young. Inko sniffled as she nodded and strode forward. Her hand wrapped around his and together they rang the bell. Izuku heard a sniffle at his side and turned to see the nurse with watery eyes. He leaned towards her and hugged around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” he whispered vehemently. The nurse patted him on the back, sniffling again. 

“You have nothing to thank me for, kiddo.” She straightened up, wiping at her eyes. Her voice turned joking as she spoke next. “Now don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I never see you here again.” Izuku laughed, the sound echoing against his ears. 

“I promise.” The nurse ruffled his hair before helping him sit back down in the wheelchair. Katsuki rushed in, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair and staring down the nurse. She rolled her eyes and gestured for the group to follow her. 

Izuku’s nurse led them through the hospital and out to the entrance where a sleek black car idled, waiting for them. One of the windows rolled down. Izuku could see Midnight waving from the driver’s seat. He waved back. 

The group said their last goodbyes and the nurse who had been taking care of Izuku up until now went back into the hospital. Katsuki and Inko helped Izuku shuffle from the chair to the car seat, buckling him in. They disappeared, likely returning the wheelchair to the security desk before entering the car themselves. The car drove off. Izuku watched as the building shrank behind them, that part of his life over once again. He couldn’t wait to see what lay ahead. Katsuki’s hand held his, the thumb rubbing over his knuckles. As Izuku drifted off once again, he thought about what the future would bring. He knew that whatever happened, he would have people who loved him every step of the way.