Chapter Text
July 15
5:54
You don’t have to come today
5:55
Deku
WHAT
I’m coming
Gimme 5
Katsuki groaned as he tossed his phone back on his bed, hands coming up to press against his eyelids. The idiot didn’t have to clarify that he’d be there at six—that was always when they met for their runs. Katsuki was almost ready himself, only having to push his hair back with his headband, grab his running shoes, and go downstairs. Just like normal. Just like every other day, at least this year, their third at U.A.
The thing was, he couldn’t even be pissed off that Deku hadn’t gone for the bait. Masochistic dumbass that Katsuki was, he was happy that he’d be the first to see the nerd on his birthday, that they’d get to keep their morning routine together. He’d still half hoped it would work, though.
It was never going to work. Katsuki had never, in all his life, succeeded in keeping Deku away.
He grabbed his sneakers with two fingers, slipping a middle and index down either set of laces before heading out. When he got to the stairwell, Katsuki stretched his arms overhead to get the tightness out of his muscles before he got to the common room. A tension had been crawling around his spine and up his shoulders ever since the night before.
Actually, it had been there all trimester. At least.
The tension didn’t go away as he trotted down the stairs, nor as he entered the common room. When he passed the kitchen and the maple tables of the half dining, half study area, the tightness knotted around his chest like capture rope.
Deku was bent over his running shoes in the genkan, just slipping the second on. His hair had gotten gradually shorter every year at U.A. and now just barely covered his face in his kneeling position. Then his head flipped up, revealing a bright smile and brighter eyes. Katsuki could never help but notice how available every one of Deku’s features was now that his hair was out of his face. His eyes were more expressive, crinkling over his cheekbones when he was especially happy. Even his ears were showing more now—the tips always the first thing to turn a bright red when he was embarrassed.
“Happy birthday, Deku,” Katsuki said, sitting down to put on his own shoes.
Deku beamed. “Thanks, Kacchan!”
Katsuki looked away, frowning intently at his laces as his brain was swarmed, thick with memories. God, he’d thought he was doing something selfless by trying to stay out of Deku’s way today, but maybe he’d just been trying to protect himself from that happy, genuine face. Another selfish plan of his.
Hardly any of Katsuki’s own brat birthdays were memorable—they’d all been replaceable with school kids acting like it was a goddamn holy day. Which he’d leaned into, obviously. There’d been gifts, activities, whatever the fuck, but they all ran together. He couldn't differentiate jack shit between them.
Deku’s birthdays were clear as laser-cut diamonds. And just as sharp, too.
Five years old
Katsuki was in the courtyard for Deku’s apartment building for what already felt like the millionth time in his life. He and Deku had scoured that yard for every clover, every beetle, every single blade of grass that it had to offer. Half the courtyard was just concrete—it was terribly boring.
Usually. But not today, because today there were bunches of presents—all for Deku, though, ugh—a cake, and soon there would be a bunch of people. Katsuki’s mom had explained that they were coming early to help with setup.
“Happy birthday, Deku,” Katsuki said through a smug grin. Their moms were too busy with the finishing touches on the party, so Katsuki could get away with saying whatever he wanted.
Deku pouted for a second, that face that he always made when Kacchan called him Deku. He only huffed for a moment before he said: “Thanks, Kacchan,” anyway.
Not quite as satisfying as Katsuki wanted. He didn’t bother saying You’re welcome.
It didn’t take long for Deku’s eyes to brighten back up, though, hands fisting tightly around a new All Might figure that Katsuki had clocked as soon as he’d stepped out the door. Katsuki always knew to bring at least one All Might toy when he was going to Deku’s—Deku always brought, like, fifty to his house—so he brought out his own and the two took off playing.
At some point, the other kids arrived, but Katsuki and Deku had been playing All Might the whole time. And even though he had no idea how long it had been, Katsuki was sure it had been quite a while. He was feeling antsy, wanted to explore somewhere, but there was nowhere to go in this tiny courtyard. Whose idea had it been to have a party outside when Deku was born in the middle of stupid July? Probably Deku’s. Katsuki was hot and sweaty, really, really sweaty…
Katsuki grinned.
“Hey, Deku,” Katsuki said, pulling Deku up from where they’d both collapsed on the ground. “Wanna do something fun?”
“Yes!” Deku cheered, jumping the rest of the way up. “What is it? Kacchan has the best ideas!”
Katsuki raised his hands in front of him, the sweat glistening in every crease and line. “I’m going to light your birthday cake.”
Deku’s jaw dropped. “Are you sure that’s okay?”
Katsuki nodded. “Of course it is. I’ve had my quirk for a long time, so I can control it really well.”
That was all it took. Deku nodded eagerly and Katsuki led the way to the picnic table where the cake and other snacks were set out. Both boys climbed onto the bench and Katsuki fumbled with the lid covering the cake for a moment before managing to twist and lift it up.
It was a plain-looking cake. Round with white frosting, and homemade by the look of the kanji on top. Katsuki smirked when he read Deku, assuredly in Auntie Inko’s handwriting. Real silly of Auntie Inko to name Deku something like that.
The candles were on the side, and Katsuki wasted no time in putting all five of them around the cake, near the center but not covering the kanji. Surely, that’s how the adults would do it.
“What’re you gonna wish for, Deku?”
Deku gasped. “I can’t tell you!”
“Sure you can,” Katsuki said. “It’s just make-believe.”
Deku pouted and Katsuki had a bad feeling he’d already lost. Then Deku offered, “I’ll tell you after it comes true.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Are ya ready?” he asked as he wiped the excess sweat on his shorts. His quirk was super powerful, so he didn’t want to blow up the whole picnic table.
“Uh-huh! Uh-huh!”
“Okay, stand back.”
Katsuki put both palms close to the candles, and then switched to just one. His quirk really was super powerful, and it’d probably be better to use multiple small explosions to light the candles if he had to than a big explosion. That’s what All Might would do.
He looked over his shoulder just once to make sure Deku was watching, and then he activated his quirk. And, well…
The candles did light. They just didn’t stay on the cake. And also not in one piece. And the cake wasn’t quite as white as before.
“Katsuki!”
The jig was up. His mom was rushing over and Deku’s was too. Geez, his quirk was amazing, but did it have to be so loud? Faintly, Katsuki heard Deku telling his mom that it was okay, the cake was okay, and he wasn’t upset while fat tears rolled down his fat cheeks. But the sound was easily drowned out by his mother yelling at him, and apologizing over his head to Auntie Inko.
The cake was fine. It was in one piece, at least. Besides, the rule was that he wasn’t supposed to use his quirk inside. And he hadn’t! Katsuki rolled his eyes and earned a slap upside the head. The party hadn’t been quite so fun after that.
“Right,” Katsuki replied to Deku’s Thank you, still not quite able to muster up a You’re welcome, even thirteen years later. Felt weird as fuck to say that after wishing someone happy birthday, and he wasn’t going to do it. Instead, he said, “Are we running or what?”
Deku jumped up, fists clenched in excitement, eyes wide and starry. Throw an All Might doll in a sticky grip and he’d look like a stretched out version of his five-year-old self. With a better haircut and all bulked up. “I’ll race you!”
Katsuki allowed himself half a smile. “Uh, yeah. Exactly.”
They took off running the moment they stepped outside, not waiting to get to the traditional track. These days, they rarely used the track outside of class. Too many people ran around the track in the mornings and, by now, Katsuki and Deku both were much too famous. They’d never break a sweat if they had to stop for every extra who wanted their autograph. Or a date.
Katsuki was sure it would be especially bad today. Romantic birthdays and all that.
So they had taken advantage of the vast U.A. campus and measured out different paths based on the trees and ran them every morning—no quirks allowed. Some days were for sprints, but today was blocked out for a distance run; they’d probably spend an hour together before showering up and getting ready for class.
An hour of glancing over at Deku and seeing that cake Katsuki had nearly destroyed. Amongst other things.
Katsuki and Deku’s birthdays just didn’t mix well. And he was going to stay out of the way and not ruin this one.
“What are you and your nerd friends doing?” Katsuki asked as the trees began to shroud Heights Alliance behind them.
Deku looked at Katsuki like Katsuki had just given him a birthday present wrapped in shiny foil and bows. “Oh! Well, I’m sure nothing much is going to happen with classes, but Uraraka-chan let it slip that Satou-kun is going to be making a cake—”
Katsuki let out a tiny sigh as he tried to keep his breathing steady with his and Deku’s even strides. Infuriatingly, Deku could ramble at full speed, hardly wanting for breath even as they both ran at a near sprint. Still, his voice was a distraction that kept Katsuki’s mind on the present, on the run, instead of the regrets of July 15ths past.
Besides, the more Katsuki knew about Deku’s plans, the easier he’d be able to avoid them. For example: he wasn’t getting within three meters of that cake.
Not that Katsuki was going to conspicuously avoid Deku. No, the nerd was too damn observant for that, especially where Katsuki was concerned. That would just be ruining Deku’s birthday the same way he had from ages six to sixteen. More or less. Katsuki winced as a few more memories popped into his head, so he forced them out and tuned back into Deku’s rambling.
“…and All Might and I are gonna meet for a little while after class so we can plan for work study next week and then…”
No, Katsuki would still be around, like he was right now. But he was going to let Deku enjoy the day with his nerd squad and then tomorrow…
Tomorrow, he’d do something.
Katsuki began to pull ahead. Deku’s quirk might be fucking One for All, but Katsuki had been working out a lot longer. His legs were working so fast that Katsuki could feel the humid air pushing against him like a fine-threaded net trying to pull him back. The tree marking the end of this course was just a couple hundred meters away, and all Katsuki had to do was maintain a neck’s lead in front of Deku to get the win. For these longer runs, it didn’t usually become a true race until the very end, but damn it if Katsuki was ever going to forget that there was a competition to win.
The feeling of the air changing beside him hit before he saw Deku catching up out of the corner of his eye. Katsuki pushed a little harder, arms low by his sides, pumping rapidly as he tried to maintain his lead. But just as they got to the final tree, Deku pulled a couple paces in front, cutting past the tree in a blur before he slowed down, limbs flailing a little as the world caught up under him.
Katsuki was only a second or two behind and finished just as strong before stopping short instead of riding out his momentum. Deku raised his arms overhead as he walked off the run, finally panting and showing a little exertion. His blimp-like thighs were peeking out from under his basketball shorts and his calves flexed to the size of both of Katsuki’s fists combined with every step he took. Katsuki had to stay lithe for his quirk, to be able to use his explosions to go airborne and maneuver in the air. Meanwhile, Deku had turned into a fucking tank from his traps to his calves.
Katsuki was still taller, though. And now that they were both eighteen, it was looking like it’d stay that way.
Deku turned around, cheeks glistening with sweat, hair stained nearly black, and an open-mouthed grin that took up half his face. His freckles were flushed the color of terracotta. “That was a good race, Kacchan!”
Katsuki scoffed, walking over to Deku as his knees tried to stiffen and seize up under him. He gave Deku a hard thwap on the back and jerked his head back toward the dorms. “Let’s go back, birthday boy.”
It was only a few minutes’ walk from their course back to Heights Alliance, and Katsuki was happy to let the time pass with Deku chatting more about his plans for the day or the run or whatever topics he was hopping between. Katsuki had made it. This was the most time he was spending with Deku today, and he hadn’t fucked it up.
From here, he just needed to keep an inconspicuous distance until tomorrow.
Katsuki frequently thanked the gods that Deku sat behind him in class. He never had to see the guy unless he went out of his way to actually turn fully around to hand papers back to him—which he, embarrassingly, tended to do more often than not nowadays.
Still, having Deku so close behind him was like having a low hum constantly buzzing at his back. First year, Katsuki had used the seat placement to convince himself that Deku wasn’t there, that he’d never been accepted into U.A. That act had barely lasted through the first trimester. Now there was this constant awareness that Deku was there, maybe even looking at him. Of course, sometimes that humming was literal in the form of Deku’s constant mumbling during lessons, but Katsuki had gotten used to that a long time ago.
Then there was today, when that buzzing took the form of every single member of 3-A hovering around Deku’s desk to wish him a happy birthday. That meant by turn that they were also all hovering around Katsuki’s desk, and when one of the idiots—Katsuki swore it was Kaminari—elbowed him in the back of the head, Katsuki was nearly willing to do to them what he’d done to Deku’s cake all those years ago.
But not quite. That memory was enough for Katsuki to relax his grip on the pencil he was moments away from splintering and put his hands in his lap. He counted to ten and did his best to tune out the chaos behind him.
He was happy that the nerd was getting attention. That he was getting the well wishes that Katsuki knew he’d never gotten in elementary and junior high. He could live with his personal space being intruded upon for the few minutes until Aizawa-sensei showed up right at the bell and probably congratulated Deku on actually making it to eighteen.
Katsuki caught sight of Kirishima circling from Deku’s desk up to Katsuki’s. He raised his brows at Katsuki and gave a questioning thumbs up.
The guy could have texted asking if Katsuki was okay. Something a little more subtle. Katsuki probably wouldn’t have replied, but still.
But Katsuki was really, really trying not to be an ass today, even to Shitty Hair, so Katsuki gave a slow blink to show just a hint of his distain and then a curt nod.
He was fine. It was fine. It was good that Deku was probably the most popular person in the whole school, because then it would be real easy for Katsuki to lie low until tomorrow.
It was all according to the plan.
“We wanted to get you katsudon, but—”
Katsuki watched out of the corner of his eye as Uraraka was cut off by the second underclassman—or maybe they were a third year from another department; how was Katsuki supposed to know?—to come up and hand Deku something. A card, chocolates, a composite picture of their future children—whatever.
Of course, it was only the second extra to come up to Deku in the what? Five minutes they’d been released to lunch? Katsuki dared not think about how many times Deku might have gotten stopped in the hallway or the fucking bathroom or anywhere. Embarrassing fucking Hail Marys to get the attention of the most famous kid in school before he graduated.
And Katsuki knew just how embarrassing, because he’d been trying to mentally prepare for it himself for weeks now. But he knew better than to do it in the fucking cafeteria like these fuckwits.
“Er, what was I saying?” Uraraka asked as the random extra left, hopefully properly shot down. “Oh yeah! Lunch Rush already makes such good katsudon for you every day,” she continued—practically bemoaning—loud enough for Katsuki to hear way over where he was sitting with his idiot friends. “We got you some mochi, though!”
“Thank you so much, Uraraka-chan!” Deku said, eyes glimmering as though store-bought mochi tasted like anything other than pre-chewed bubblegum.
Katsuki looked down at his own chicken stir fry—light on the rice, heavy on the vegetables and hot sauce—as his stupid tablemates grew too loud in his ear for him to eavesdrop, at least for the moment. They were talking with their shitty mouths full of food; third years and still fucking animals, the lot of them.
Deku’s friends were so dumb. Not that Katsuki could talk when it came to intelligent friend choice, but at least Katsuki knew that Lunch Rush wasn’t all that. He was fast and efficient and had good baseline recipes, but if Deku’s friends really wanted to impress him, they would have gotten his mother’s katsudon recipe and remade it.
Not that Katsuki trusted that bunch to cook anything. Icy Hot would find a way to burn and freeze the food, Round Face snack on half the ingredients, and Glasses would concern himself with using actual pinches of salt and whatever the heck instead of cooking to taste like a normal person. So if they were actually smart, they’d call up Auntie Inko and have her bring some to the school herself. Deku would love every bit of that, especially if he got to see his mom, even just for a moment through the gates since he couldn’t go home. Auntie Inko would love to be able to do something for Deku too. Always had, always would.
Thirteen years old
Deku normally got his lunch from the cafeteria line. It annoyed Katsuki to no end that useless Deku facts were still taking up his brain space, but he couldn’t help the fact that he was fucking observant and the nerd’s habits had gone pretty much unchanged since they’d started school. So Katsuki couldn’t help but notice Deku sitting alone at a table while most of the students were still in line, a bento box open in front of him.
Katsuki changed course from his usual table—the popular table—and over to Deku, feeling the extras behind him follow in line, not one of them asking about where they were going.
“Hey, Deku!” Katsuki crowed when he got to the edge of Deku’s sad table. As Deku’s eyes jerked up, his head fell between his shoulders like a turtle trying to retract into its shell. The loser was so tiny he would have disappeared right into his seat if there’d been anything to hide behind. “I heard it’s your birthday today!”
Of course, he hadn’t heard from anyone. Katsuki wouldn’t be surprised if he was the only one in the school who remembered the loser’s birthday, but there was no way he was going to advertise it like that. He was good with dates—so what? He was good at everything.
“Y-Yes…” Deku said, leaning back on his stool as Katsuki stepped closer.
Katsuki didn’t even have to get close enough to breathe the nerd’s air in order to reach over and capture the little note on top of the bento.
“A note from mommy?” Katsuki asked as Deku suddenly sat up again, a bit of the fear vanishing from his eyes as he furrowed his brows.
“Give that back.”
“No, actually, this is perfect for me to show the guys something I’ve been working on with my quirk. You’ve always liked quirks, right, De-ku?” Katsuki asked, punctuating the syllables so that Deku remembered exactly what Katsuki had that he didn’t.
Katsuki closed his fist around the note and let off a pop in his palm that could barely be heard over the din of the cafeteria. When he unfurled his fingers, the note was nothing but ash that fell to the ground like sooty snowflakes.
With a smug grin, Katsuki looked around to the cafeteria monitors, not a single one of them looking his way despite the fact that he’d just used his quirk in the middle of school. He brushed his hands together to get the last remnants of dweeb off of them before turning back to his posse.
“See? That’s what we call control,” Katsuki boasted. “When I'm at U.A., I won’t have to waste any time honing my quirk, and can get right into actual hero work.”
The idiots behind him oohed and aahed over Katsuki’s skill, not a single one of them paying any mind to Deku as Katsuki led the group back to their table. As the social order intended.
If Deku had anything else to say, Katsuki didn’t hear it over the compliments or the roar of the cafeteria.
Katsuki was never going to ask Auntie Inko for her recipe. God, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever managed to speak to her again after the shit he’d pulled as an asshole tyke.
He still wasn’t sure how he was going to speak to her son either.
Katsuki wondered if Deku had ever told her about his thirteenth birthday. If Deku had even been able to read the note before Katsuki had destroyed it. It had probably just said, “Happy birthday, son! Okaa-san loves you!” if Katsuki knew the Midoriyas. Still, his stomach soured at the memory, leaving him pushing a few larger pieces of Japanese eggplant around the bowl, suddenly unable to finish.
Maybe Katsuki had the right idea about today and he should forget about tomorrow.
“Hello? Earth to Baku?”
Katsuki looked up from his half-eaten meal to see Ashido’s hand waving in front of his eyes. He lightly smacked it away with the back of his wrist and glared through his bangs at her. “What?”
“We were wondering,” Ashido started, saying it as though she’d already posed the question once or twice, “if you’re training after school with Midoriya-kun today?”
“Nope,” Katsuki said, managing to lean forward and choke down another bite.
“Okay, do you know if he’s training with anyone?” Kaminari asked, taking over.
“All Might,” Katsuki said through his food, remembering it to be one of the many things Deku had rambled on about during their run. He was sure the man would fall to pieces over the fact that Deku had made it to his eighteenth birthday. That they both had. Then he swallowed and looked around at the four sets of eyes on him. “Why’re you asking me?”
“We wanted to know how much he’d be around so everyone can set up for the party,” Kaminari said. “Todoroki-kun figured that you probably already know his schedule, so we were tasked with asking you!”
Oh, so everyone was involved in this party business except for Katsuki. He was suddenly reminded of all the mailed birthday invitations he’d thrown in the trash, leaving it to Deku to figure out that he wasn’t coming.
Katsuki felt his chopsticks begin to grind against each other and relaxed his grip, though his stare remained as sharp as ever.
“Why didn’t Half ‘n Half just ask me himself?”
“Group text, man,” Kaminari said, pulling out his phone and shoving it in Katsuki’s personal space. “You never respond.”
10:13
Yaomomo
Does anyone know if Midoriya will be occupied after class?
10:16
Todoroki
Bakugou would know. Ask him
He’s coming right?
10:16
on it!
he’ll come!
10:17
Kirishima
Hes coming!
Yeah, Katsuki had muted that chat as soon as they’d set it up at the beginning of July. The last thing Katsuki needed was more stress over Deku’s birthday. And as well as these idiots could work together on the field, they were a mess and a half at planning normal teenage shit.
“You don’t have to show me what you just fucking said,” he said, batting Kaminari’s hand the same way he’d done Ashido’s. “Glad to know you idiots are feeling good enough about your studies that you’re texting in class now. Maybe I won’t help you study tomorrow.”
“No, don’t be like that, bro!” Kaminari moaned, pocketing his phone. Or hiding it.
Katsuki pushed his tray way, his appetite officially gone. He’d just make sure to have a protein bar before dinner. “Well, Shitty Hair and me are training today anyway.”
Kirishima’s eyebrows rose out of the corner of Katsuki’s eye, but he recovered before the others turned to look at him. “Oh, yeah, we are,” he agreed, pressing his hardened fists together. “Always good to test my Unbreakable against Blasty!”
“But you are coming to the party, right, man?” Sero asked, looking at Katsuki. Obviously Kirishima was going. Obviously everyone was going—they always did. Katsuki was the only hold out.
“I’ll make an appearance for the nerd,” Katsuki said, grabbing his tray and getting up to leave.
If he was done with his food, then there was no reason to stay.
Katsuki’s AP Shot was the best move for cracking through Kirishima’s ultimate move. It took less power from Katsuki and weakened specific spots in Kirishima’s exterior that Katsuki could then weaken even further with more basic explosions, or physical attacks if he wasn’t trying to keep his distance.
But at this particular moment, he was. Katsuki released a medium-sized blast with his left hand to throw himself airborne. Kirishima had gotten crazy fast over the past two years, once he’d realized that was a way to distinguish himself from Tetsutetsu. Metal was strong, but it was heavy, while Kirishima’s hardening didn’t weigh him down at all. So if he could be swift and a tank, then he’d be just about unbeatable in hand-to-hand combat.
Luckily, Katsuki wasn’t working with just hand-to-hand.
Katsuki maneuvered over Kirishima and landed an AP Shot on his shoulder before sending a blast behind him to rocket downward. Before he got in reaching distance of Kirishima, he shot another explosion at the boy. That one Kirishima dodged, the edges of it just glancing off of that weakened spot on his shoulder. Not enough to crack the shield.
Another blast shot Katsuki back up before he could hit the ground and give Kirishima any chance to close the distance and get a hit on him. Evasion against a grounded opponent was so much easier when your regular sparring partner was the current holder of One for All. Katsuki could just play keep away in the sky until Kirishima’s Unbreakable wore down, though that time limit was much longer than it was as a first year.
Still, that piss-poor strategy wouldn’t be enough to eke out a win. It was slow and stamina-draining and would absolutely kill Katsuki on the field. Plus, Katsuki needed a win. He’d already pinned Kiri to the mat twice, and he was looking to make it a full five out of five—unqualified victory. Best out of five was for quitters.
The thing was, One for All was basically unbeatable at this point. Deku’s ridiculous adventure to master all the quirks during first year had left him nearly godlike when he’d come back. Katsuki would never admit it, but he knew there was virtually no chance of ever beating Deku again in a totally fair, no holds barred sparring session.
Even after All Might had brought in Round Face, Frog Face, and Tape Face in to help with One for All training, even after Deku had gone and blabbed about One for All to the whole class, Katsuki had always stayed his regular sparring partner. He and Half ‘n Half and maybe Tokoyami were usually the only ones who could stand a chance of not falling flat within minutes to Deku—most anyone else was a waste of time in one-on-one combat. Not that the nerd would ever say so.
The nerd didn’t even think so. He thought every quirk was valuable. Years of wishing for any quirk under the sun would do that to someone.
Six years old
It was Deku’s birthday. Not the dumb party that would be that weekend, but his actual birthday where Auntie Inko had invited just Katsuki over for a special dinner. Not even his parents were coming.
Really, it was just the same as any playdate, down to the fact that the two of them were playing heroes in the courtyard while Auntie finished up dinner. This was what they did any time they hung out together, even at recess, now that they’d started real school.
That’s who was coming over on Saturday. Their classmates. Deku was copying him and all the new friends they’d made at school that Katsuki had invited to his own birthday party were now going to Deku’s.
But Katsuki was the only one invited today, so hah.
“There’s a speed villain up ahead and we have to go really fast to get him!” Katsuki cried as he used his explosions behind him to speed up his pace, sprinting from grass to concrete.
The villain would probably try to escape over the fence. He could probably jump over it or maybe climb between the fence and the wall of the apartment building to get over. So Katsuki had to get him before that!
“Wait up, Kacchan!”
“No, he’s gonna get away! You can go around and catch him from the other side!”
“Kacchan! Wah!”
Katsuki glanced back and saw Deku splayed on the concrete. He’d obviously tripped over the lip between it and the grass and now his big eyes were shining up at Katsuki, about to spill over at any moment.
“Deku,” Katsuki groaned as he walked back, “you let the villain get away.”
“I-I’m sorry, Kacchan,” Deku said, sniffling as he looked up. Katsuki saw that one of his knees was a little skinned, but it wasn’t anything a bandage wouldn’t fix. “I w-wasn’t fast enough.”
“I thought I told ya to quit calling me that.”
Everyone at school went by their actual names, and Sensei always tacked a “kun” on at the end. Not “chan.” Katsuki wasn’t going to use that sissy name from preschool, and no one would even have to know about it if Deku wasn’t such a blabbermouth. Or if he could remember not to call him that.
“S-Sorry.”
Katsuki kept looking down at Deku, hands on his hips, waiting for the other boy to get up. But he just kept looking up at Katsuki, eyes so wide Katsuki could have hit anywhere on his face and he wouldn’t be able to miss them.
“When’ll you get your quirk? Then you’ll be able to keep up.”
“Mom says…Mom says any day now.”
The words were hollow between them. Deku was obviously still holding onto that pathetic idea, but Katsuki understood the truth.
Deku was the only one in their class who hadn’t gotten his quirk. Katsuki knew that kids were supposed to get their quirk at four or five because that’s what the adults had been saying since forever. Deku was only going to be five for a couple more days.
Deku wasn’t going to get a quirk.
He was going to be stuck playing heroes forever, while Katsuki was going to be an actual hero. Better than All Might.
“Actually, I’m gonna go home.”
“Wh-What?”
Deku pushed up halfway on his heels, but Katsuki was already walking to the gate. “Yeah, I just remembered that I have stuff to do.”
“Stuff?” Deku asked, finally getting himself up. “But what about dinner? And you can’t walk home alone!”
“Sure I can,” Katsuki said, bristling at the idea that Deku thought he knew better. How could Deku know better? “It’s easy.”
Katsuki fiddled with the latch on the gate while Deku blubbered behind him, the sound only making him angrier. Everything would have been fine if Deku wasn’t such a Deku. But he was, and there was nothing Katsuki could do about that.
When he closed the gate, he didn’t come back for ten years.
He didn’t even give Deku his birthday present.
A hard swing right to his ribs knocked the wind out of Katsuki and sent him sprawled on the mat, gasping for air.
“Oh shit, I thought you were gonna dodge!” Kirishima exclaimed, hurrying to lean over Katsuki and lend him a hand.
“ ‘M fine,” Katsuki grunted, pushing himself up without Kirishima’s help. He still winced, though—that hit was going to leave one hell of a bruise. “I deserved it. Can’t be distracted.”
“Right…” Kirishima said, stepping back to give him room. “What exactly are you distracted about?”
Katsuki sent a glare Kirishima’s way, stretching his arm overhead to feel out the bruise. Already hurt like hell.
“…Is it Midoriya?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, making sure Kirishima caught it before he turned around to grab his water bottle. If he was fucking up this bad, it was probably time for a break.
This wasn’t the first time he and Kirishima had had this kind of conversation this year. It had been an ongoing theme for the whole trimester and Katsuki wasn’t looking to keep the trend going into the second. He was going to make sure, one way or the other, that it didn’t. Tomorrow.
“I have no idea how I managed to go so long not thinking about all of the awful shit I did to him,” Katsuki said to the floor. “And now I’m remembering every shitty birthday that I ruined.”
“I’m sure you weren’t that—”
“It was that bad,” Katsuki cut in, putting up a hand. He turned halfway around so Kirishima could see his expression and know whatever Kirishima was thinking, it was nowhere near the truth of it.
No one in their class knew just how terrible Katsuki had been to Deku. He’d never said anything, and he was sure as heck that Deku hadn’t either, otherwise Round Face already would have tried to kick Katsuki’s ass. And Katsuki was sure that they all assumed that it “wasn’t that bad,” just given the fact that Deku had forgiven him, never seeming to hold an ounce of ill will, even at the beginning of first year. So what were they to think but that Katsuki had been at his worst for those first few weeks of classes?
They had no clue.
“I was a total shithead over and over every fucking year and so this time I’m just going to steer fucking clear, let the nerd have a good day with his friends and whatever,” Katsuki said. “I’m not avoiding him. I don’t want him to notice. But I’m just gonna…not fuck it up this time.”
Katsuki had turned back to the wall at some point. It was much easier to talk to it than to Kirishima’s dumb puppy dog face, so open and willing to listen to whatever bullshit Katsuki was about to spew forth. The wall was his best fucking friend.
“But last year was fine, right?” Kirishima asked. “I mean, we were all there and nothing happened between you guys—I know because we were all looking out for it to happen.”
Katsuki almost laughed. Of course they were. Even though the two of them were already friends by second year, Katsuki assuredly well on his way towards…well, wherever he was now. Thinking about the nerd all the fucking time.
Regardless, Katsuki had somehow managed to be fucking normal last year. It was the first neutral birthday the two of them had had ever. There’d never been neutral territory between the two of them until the last couple years. Even first year had been full of mad swings from hating to saving—at least on Katsuki’s side.
“Yeah, that was fine,” Katsuki said. “That’s what I’m trying to do again.”
Seventeen years old
There weren’t options for birthdays in Heights Alliance. No one could go anywhere without chaperones, other people couldn’t come into U.A., and there was only so much they could get away with doing in the dorms. So it was the same thing every damn time.
There was food—mostly made by Satou, but everyone pitched in cash towards it. The class had imposed a rule at the beginning of second year that anyone who caused unnecessary damage in training owed money to the food jar, even though U.A. always covered damage costs. It was like a swear jar, but for a bunch of teenagers practicing government-sanctioned violence and who were going to swear regardless.
Katsuki had paid more than his fair share into the cup, so when it came time for Deku’s birthday, he’d be damned if he let Satou do all the cooking.
He’d been practicing Todoroki Fuyumi’s mapo tofu recipe for the last six months and had it down pat. Plus, it was a meal that was easy to make a bulk batch of with a heap of rice, so it would go a long way towards feeding all of 2-A.
And it’d be easy to add extra spice to his own bowl in addition to the Szechwan peppercorns that were gonna numb the mouths of all the idiots in the common room. And thank the gods for that.
Not like he could make katsudon anyway. Satou needed the oven for what were apparently fourteen layers of cake.
So Katsuki stayed in the kitchen and away from the chaos of the common room. Satou wasn’t even a half bad guy to get stuck with. He didn’t talk much—at least to Katsuki—and he was decent enough in the kitchen that they could mind each other’s space well. The only downside was Kaminari coming in every five minutes whining about how good it smelled—of course it smelled good—and when would it be done? Katsuki would personally make sure that Kaminari was the only fucker who didn’t get any.
“Mm, that smells so good!” Katsuki whipped around, ready to flick some of that deep red sauce into Kaminari’s eyes when he realized it was Deku leaning over the counter, breathing in Katsuki’s perfectly blended spices.
Aoyama had taken to cutting hair during their time in the dorms and had given Deku the chop earlier in the week. It was just a couple inches shorter than normal on the sides, but without those sunkissed tips it looked darker, more mature. One haircut and the nerd finally looked seventeen instead of like a really bulky tween.
“When did you get so good at cooking, Kacchan?”
During the time when they weren’t friends. Obviously. Katsuki hadn’t been old enough to hold more than a butter knife when he’d ditched Deku. Though he had been old enough for his parents to work late at the studio and leave him on his own for dinner.
Maybe he would have spent more time with the Midoriyas instead of home alone with leftovers if he hadn’t been such an ass.
“Few years ago,” Katsuki grunted. He grabbed a spoon and dipped it in the sauce; it was just about ready, judging by the thickness. He blew on it a couple times before bringing it over to Deku, holding a hand underneath to catch any drips. “Taste. It’s supposed to be to your palate for your birthday.”
Deku’s eyes were wide, but he leaned forward to taste and pulled away with his hands on both cheeks. “Amazing, Kacchan!”
Katsuki felt the praise roll down him like warm water, like island rain, but his face remained neutral. “Want anything different?”
“No, no, it’s perfect! Thank you, Kacchan!”
Katsuki grunted in response and turned back to the stove, effectively dismissing Deku. He grabbed a bowl to put the spoon in; Deku would get the first serving since it was his birthday, and there was no reason to waste spoons when there were twenty mouths to feed. Then he grabbed his own spoon and gave a small taste.
It was damn good. At least the nerd knew good food when it smacked him in the face. Even if his cooking skills were as amateur as all the other extras here.
Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki saw Satou glancing at him, a slight smile formed on those round lips. Katsuki frowned.
“Got something to say?”
“Nope,” Satou said, turning back to his stupid cake. “Nothing.”
The rest of that day last year had been utterly casual. Usual classes, usual party. After everyone had eaten his delicious mapo tofu, Katsuki hadn’t taken long to leave the party and go to sleep early. That’s what he wanted to do again.
But no cooking for Deku this time. That was too…personal.
“I really don’t think you have to lay so low, bro,” Kiri said, taking a few steps closer to Katsuki’s back. “You and Midoriya have been getting along. If you wanna do something with him, I’m sure it’d be more than welcome.”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched. He really wished they were still sparring. Nothing quite got out the nervous energy like punching his friends in the gut. But all his friends liked talking so much.
“Yeah, well,” Katsuki began, his voice quiet, gruff. Nothing more than a swipe of sandpaper on a board. “This year I do want to do something. But if it goes wrong, it’ll ruin everything.”
Katsuki glanced back at Kirishima, heart plunking into his stomach with an acidic splash when he saw the round eyes of understanding on his face. The asshole was trying to hold back a smile.
It wasn’t that Katsuki wanted to confess per se. Or…make a big gesture or anything. He just wanted to do…something.
“Today?” Kirishima asked, putting a hand on Katsuki’s sweaty shoulder.
“Fuck no,” Katsuki said, rolling his shoulder away, but not actually expanding the distance between them. “Tomorrow. Then he can have a decent birthday before I ruin the rest of age eighteen for him.”
The plan was simple. Frighteningly vague, because Katsuki would be playing it by ear. But in the same way Katsuki was going to be suspiciously absent today, he was going to be unforgettably present tomorrow. He was going to throw hints like breadcrumbs, keep an eye on the nerd, and see how his presence was being received. From there, he’d have a plan as to how to move forward with…whatever it was he was going to do.
He told Kirishima as such and continued, “I’m going to go to his room first thing instead of meeting in the common room. If we usually meet at six, that means that he leaves a few minutes before, but I don’t wanna catch him in the fucking bathroom or anything, so if I backtrack to ten minutes before, odds are that he’s just getting dressed or some shit.”
Kirishima’s eyes narrowed and Katsuki bit his lip. He’d said too much. How could he not be judged for having a crush on the guy he’d tried to beat the stuffing out of just two years ago? But Kirishima just said: “Um…why?”
“Tch,” Katsuki scoffed, stepping away again as he reached for a towel. The sweat was starting to cool and stick on him.
He should have known Kirishima wasn’t judgmental. He was just thick.
“Because, hair for brains, then I can see how weird the nerd thinks it is,” Katsuki bit out. “Asshole usually looks at me like I shit All Might figurines, so it’s normal if he’s happy to see me. If the fucker’s weirded out, then I’ll know to abandon ship.”
“And so you’re just gonna…stalk him all day?”
Katsuki punched Kirishima in the shoulder, holding back only because he knew that the guy would harden and he didn’t want bruised knuckles in addition to bruised ribs. “I’m not stalking him, dickwad. I’m just gonna be around, and be observant—which I always am.”
“Okay, okay,” Kirishima agreed. “So you’re not stalking, and you’ll abandon ship if he gives you bad vibes. But if he gives good ones you’re gonna…kiss him?”
Katsuki turned around just quick enough to flick his sweaty towel at Kirishima’s face before grabbing his stuff and heading for the door. “The fuck outta here, Kirishima.”
Katsuki hoped that his sweaty hair was hanging just heavy enough over his ears that Kirishima couldn’t see his blush.
Of course, Katsuki couldn’t simply march out of the gym alone in an embarrassed huff like he wanted to—Shitty Hair was going to chase him anyway. And hound him down with questions to boot.
If you’ve liked him all year—fuck you, Shitty Hair, for catching onto that—then why are you doing this right before break?
What Katsuki wouldn’t give to have already done this shit. But apparently his past self preferred kicking the can down the road and leaving him to do something about this mess at the last minute.
There was a combination of things that had left Katsuki in this humiliating state. For summer break, the third years were entering work study again. But this one came with more shitty rules than usual. Not only did they have to apply to agencies they hadn’t worked at before, but they had to go to an agency where they could work on a skill that they didn’t yet have expertise in.
Because why would Katsuki have any interest in returning to the number one and three heroes, right?
So Katsuki was stuck with Gang Orca to work on stealth, and Deku was stealing his spot with Best Jeanist to work on media and publicity. This, after the two of them had worked with Endeavor together, worked with Hawks together, done everything in their goddamn lives together. And here, one of their last opportunities at school and they were forced apart for a whole month.
And then they’d graduate. And that was it.
Kirishima had backed off after that. When they made it back to the dorms, Deku was already there, chatting with their classmates. Someone must have convinced him not to help with setting up the festivities, which was still going on all around them, since it was still relatively early in the afternoon. Since Deku was deep in conversation, Katsuki spared a lingering glance at him, taking in how radiant with happiness he was. Cheeks fully rounded from a constant smile, whether he was talking or not. Huge eyes narrowed only to make room for all that grinning. And they were slightly red—assuredly either from an emotional talk with All Might or tears of joy upon seeing his classmates do what they did for every birthday. Probably both, actually.
Katsuki walked right on by. He had to shower the failure of his sparring session with Kirishima off of him, and then he wanted to finish his homework so that he was totally free for the weekend tomorrow. Written finals had been last week, but there were still papers and shitty busy work assignments due.
It was obvious once the party hit full swing, just about the time the sun had set on the long, July day. Katsuki could hear the music—Jirou’s—and the screaming—Kaminari and Ashido’s—from the fourth floor. Katsuki had just finished his paper for career prep on opening a hero agency—something most of these extras wouldn’t be doing, but he sure as hell would—and the legalities and branding involved when his phone buzzed with one of the few conversations he didn’t have muted.
July 15
20:09
Shitty Hair
I think the cake is being cut soon
U said u wanted to make an appearance
20:11
read
Katsuki pushed away from his desk and took one deep breath before shutting his laptop and pocketing his phone. He was just wearing black sweatpants—less baggy than he used to, tapered around the ankles—and a skull top. Hardly the party attire that the idiots downstairs would be wearing, but the last time he’d dressed up for one of these things was last Christmas when they’d forced him into a Santa jacket again.
The smell of cake was fragrant in the stairwell; it had probably been permeating for hours if Satou was making as many layers as he usually did. It smelled like plain vanilla—the nerd always did like his flavors simple.
Kirishima was the first person Katsuki saw when he stepped into the common room, obviously waiting for him to arrive despite the fact that Katsuki hadn’t returned his text. Of course he was coming.
The cake wasn’t out yet and people were mostly chatting or dancing. There was a small pile of presents on one of the tables that had been brought over from the dining area closer to the lounge. Katsuki looked at it for a moment, wondering if there were eighteen presents there—one from everyone but him. Deku would think that he’d forgotten him.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, Deku would know.
Past the presents, Deku was on the couch with his nerd squad while everyone else was more or less in the cliques they’d all settled into by third year. The last thing Katsuki wanted to do was step onto that green carpet, make his way over to those lurid green couches, and talk to that green-haired boy. In front of all his stupid friends who had assuredly noticed that Katsuki had been absent all evening and come down for a special appearance.
Being alone with Deku would have been fine. Good, actually, really good. That was what most people wanted on their birthday—a date with their partner.
But that wouldn’t be right. First of all, Deku wasn’t his partner—not even close. Not yet. But with or without that status, the idea of taking Deku away from his friends made the scent of vanilla and sugar in the air turn sour. He’d given Deku so many friendless birthdays that that was exactly what he was trying to avoid this year. Deku deserved a real party.
Now the problem was that Katsuki didn’t belong. Sure, he went to most of these stupid birthday things for the other people in the class—he always left early though, except when his annoying friends forced him to stay. And he didn’t hate Deku’s friends, even Half ‘n Half. Anymore. He just…didn’t know how to share Deku.
Damn, maybe it would have been better to hide out with Satou again—then it wouldn’t be so obvious that he was going out of his way just to say happy birthday to the dork.
But he had to. He had to because Deku would be sad if Katsuki missed his whole party, and coming down and saying hi just for him should be enough to make up for his absence. Then the nerd would just have to be patient. The last thing Deku was known for at U.A. was patience—perhaps second to self-preservation—but the Deku that Katsuki had once known had it in spades. The nerd had waited fourteen years for a quirk—he could wait ten more hours for Katsuki to come back to him.
So he approached the sofas, immediately catching the eyes of Round Face and Frogger. He didn’t even have to make a sound for Deku to turn around, catching his eyes with the biggest smile of the day. “Kacchan!” he exclaimed.
“Hey, nerd,” Katsuki said, just coming over to the arm of the sofa and putting his hand on the arm, centimeters from resting against Deku’s shoulder. “Just wanted to say happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Kacchan!” Deku breathed. “I wasn’t sure you were going to come.”
“ ‘Course I was coming,” Katsuki grunted, looking up and noticing spots of surprise on the nerd squad’s faces. And they, at least, had seen Shitty Hair’s damn group text message.
Had Deku really thought that he wouldn’t come at all? He’d come last year and he and Deku were better friends now than they were then.
Shit, had he miscalculated and been too distant? But he’d thought he’d been nice—like, actually nice—on their run this morning, and it wasn’t like the two of them spent normal days hanging off each other every spare moment.
And what could he do about it now? The day was almost done and Katsuki was not staying through gift giving. There was no way. Like it or not, the nerd would just have to wait. He would just have to.
Deku’s eyes stayed focused on Katsuki, and Katsuki was glad that he didn’t wear his thoughts on his face like the nerd did. Practically spelled them out with his freckles. Katsuki tried and failed to call a small smile to his face in the hopes that it would reassure Deku. Just as well. A smile like that would probably just freak the overthinking nerd out.
“Um, we were just talking about how many love confessions Deku-kun got at lunch,” Uraraka said, pulling Katsuki out of his own overthinking. “So many people came up to him!”
“Most were just happy birthdays,” Deku mumbled, looking up at Katsuki in embarrassment.
“Didn’t you get a lot on your birthday too, kero?” Asui asked Katsuki.
Katsuki grunted and shrugged, not about to let the focus turn on him.
There wasn’t really any way to tell anyway. Katsuki had been approached by way too many people he didn’t know on his birthday and had shut them up before they’d managed to say much of anything. They’d opened their mouths and he’d said, “Thanks, bye,”—Kirishima’s suggestion; Katsuki would have used other words—and walked away before anything could happen to make him want to explode a palm or two in their faces.
If they had been love confessions, it wasn’t like Katsuki would have heard them out anyway. He was saving everyone’s time.
“What’d you say, nerd?” Katsuki asked, unable to help himself. His eyes bored into Deku’s as though he could force a deeper truth from him. Or read what he wasn’t saying on those freckles.
“Oh, uh, just No, thank you,” Deku squeaked, obviously embarrassed about the whole thing.
Katsuki would have to search Deku for signs of embarrassment at his own advances tomorrow. Not like the nerd ever hid it well. Maybe Katsuki should have sat closer to Deku during lunch, or forced them onto the track for their run. It could have been useful to see if he could figure out Deku’s reasons for turning down the extras.
Or it could have made him sick to his stomach.
Before Katsuki could ask any more questions, Ashido shouted, “Cake time!” and a wide berth was opened between the bodies in the room as Satou brought out a large cake, eighteen candles already lit on top.
Speaking of sick to his stomach.
“I’m gonna go,” Katsuki murmured, taking the risk and moving his hand just those few centimeters over and squeezing Deku’s shoulder before returning his hand, sweating, to his pocket. “Make a wish, nerd. A good one.”
“What?” Deku asked, eyes wide not with confusion, but with worry. “Kacchan’s not staying?”
Katsuki gave the biggest smile he could muster, one where his lips just barely spread, not quite curling up but for right at the corners where they were pursed tight. “ ‘M going to bed now. Make a wish, Deku.”
Katuski took a wide circle around the cake that was headed for the coffee table between Deku and his friends. He brushed off Kirishima’s gaze as the boy reached for him before Katsuki made for the stairs, taking them two at a time.
He hadn’t looked back to see Deku’s face when he left, but he was sure it wasn’t sad. No way that nerd would be capable of making a sad face while his friends were singing for him, feeding him cake, and gifting him what was assuredly mountains of All Might memorabilia.
The fear was that the smile would be fake. Deku had gotten so good at smiling like All Might had taught him that even Round Cheeks and Half ‘n Half probably wouldn’t be able to tell. Katsuki wasn’t even sure that he could. Observant as he was, he didn’t exactly have the best track record for interpreting Deku correctly.
But he couldn’t think about that. The whole point of this was for Deku to have a great birthday—without Katsuki. And it was wholly his own fault that he had no frame of reference for what that was. Katsuki was all the way back in his room, teeth brushed, stripped down to his boxers in order to survive a night’s sleep in July when he remembered the one reference he had. Literally framed at his parents’ house.
The thing about pictures from when you were young was that you never knew if you actually remembered the events, or if the picture itself and the stories you’d been told were just some concocted mythos that you thought you remembered firsthand. That was this photo.
It was a picture of Katsuki in his mother’s arms and Deku in Auntie Inko’s, both mothers lifting the kids over their head. Katsuki and Deku both had their fists raised, clearly in imitation of a soaring All Might. Both had smiles that were splitting their faces in half.
Katsuki closed his eyes and hoped that that would be the memory that haunted him tonight.
Four years old
“Higher, higher!” Katsuki shouted as he tried to stretch straight out of his mother’s strong grip on his waist and into the sky. All Might could go so much higher than this.
“Me, me, me!” Izu-chan chanted beside him, Auntie not quite reaching him as high as Katsuki was.
“I hope you’re almost done flying, brat, because my arms don’t have darn super strength,” his mother grumbled below him, leading Katsuki to stretch his fist even farther up. He was flying, darn it!
“I will!” Katsuki shouted. “Super strength like All Might!”
“Me too!” Izu-chan agreed, throwing both arms in the air, totally forgetting the pose they were supposed to be doing.
“Fat chance,” Katsuki’s mom grunted as Katsuki felt himself being lowered to the ground, foiled again by his mother. “You don’t have anything like that on either side of the family. But you’ll get something soon. This year or next.”
“No, we were flying!” Katsuki pouted, lifting his arms up to be picked up again.
“It’s okay, Kacchan,” Izu-chan said, patting Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki turned around to see Izu-chan on the ground too, his mom waving her arms in circles behind him. “All Might does more than fly. We can do something else!”
“Fine. We can chase villains,” Katsuki agreed, though his bottom lip was still poking out under a frown. “But you’re the villain and I’m gonna get you!”
“Easy, Katsuki,” Katsuki’s father said before Katsuki could even take one step towards Izu-chan, who’d already leapt back. “It’s Izuku’s birthday today. So shouldn’t he be the hero?”
Katsuki’s dad had one hand on Katsuki’s head and the other had a camera that was now hanging by his side. His expression was soft, but Katsuki only needed to frown up at it for a few seconds to know that he wasn’t going to give in and let Katsuki be the hero. So Katsuki sighed.
“Fine, but just for today, Izu-chan.”
“No, wait, we can be partners!” Izu-chan exclaimed, eyes wide, fists squeezing tightly.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes at Izu-chan. “All Might doesn’t have a partner, dummy.”
“Katsuki.”
Katsuki looked up at his mom, already knowing what the warning in her voice meant, so he sighed and looked back at Izu-chan. “Who’re we gonna chase then?”
“We make it up,” Izu-chan said before pointing at the wall. “There’s a villain! We have to get him!”
Izu-chan took off running, but Katsuki wasn’t to be beaten that easily. “I’m gonna get him first!”
“Just you wait, Kacchan!” Izu-chan cried as Katsuki caught up. “I’m gonna be first!”
“Yeah, right!”
And they just kept running and running and running.