Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

For my dear fire,

I love you, I always have and possibly will. The list of things that replace you in my life grows shorter and shorter every day, so I'll keep you in my wallet instead. I adore you but staying with you would mean to burn myself for warmth, I will not come out sane. 

Maybe, in another life, at a better time, we will meet again but I hope in this one, we remain removed as if strangers.

⥈⥈⥈

It's rare that the affairs of life have Izuku Midoriya half-drunk, suit a little messed up, his guard lowered far too much on the sidewalk in broad daylight. He's been sitting on the pavement right outside of his apartment. People walk by, recognising him but something in his general demeanour must have given away the fact that he didn't want to be approached.

He doesn't want to step inside the apartment yet. Neither does he want to do any alternative that might take effort and thinking, both of which he has exhausted to their limits. Even his general politeness suffered from being jobless as his company had just filed for bankruptcy, there were a bunch of fraudulent statements and Izuku knew that he had to leave.

He sighs, drained and devoid of any motivation. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt this way.

In the oyster of his life, Izuku believes that he's had what most people would connect to a bland, vanillaesque way of living. Not that Izuku was into being completely reckless, or wilding his way out, no, he's responsible and sensible to the delight of himself and his cat. It's just sometimes he can't help but catch himself wishing for more.

He looks down at himself, the day hasn't been kind to him and it's still showing 6 PM and he isn't positive he wants to spend the rest of it the same way either. His phone blinks up with a notification from his taxi provider, Rednit, the big smiley emoji already has Izuku looking sceptically, bothering to read it for some reason.

Hey, Midoriya-san, we have a new offer for the Stranger's Eve celebrated worldwide, book a surprise taxi ride with a surprise location, we promise you'll enjoy it. 🚕🚕💞💞💞🤯🤯

 

It has Izuku thinking of another headline on tomorrow's tabloid— citizen's body found in a ditch, 70km from the outskirts, victim to ridesharing with a renowned serial killer.

For some reason, he shrugs, forgetting his mother exist, and thinks eh, might as well just try it out, it's not going to be that bad.

He wonders if he should de-escalate for that very reason because it tends to happen that he meets the worst exactly when he thinks things can't get any worse.

He books one of these surprise ride with scepticism but enough dumbness to just go ahead with it. The fine line between intellect and ignorance is a thin one and Izuku Midoriya is known for walking it like a boozy clown at the circus.

The car comes soon enough, Izuku makes a mental alarm of being back at home before twelve, he kinda relates to the excitement of Cinderella and wonders what kind of a service he's going to receive. He might meet a plant man and Izuku is a bit of a sucker for succulents which is a phrase completely unironic.

Instead, he is met with the face of a blond man who quite possible looks at him as if he had just taken his wife to a strip club for the weekend. Izuku catches a quick reflection of himself, wondering if something was wrong with the way he was looking, but nothing there gives away as to why he's instantly earned the stranger's dislike.

He might be a part of the service? A part of him shrugs, Izuku guesses it's right which prods him to ask, "are you part of the surprise service?"

Somehow, the stranger's face immerses into a comparatively acidic expression.

"Do I fucking look like it, nerd?"

"I'll take that as a negative," Izuku states, and the normal him would shut up. Not wanting to inconvenience anyone further but he's had a rough day. Sometimes, that tilts his self-preservation senses to a muted, white noise.

"So you chose the surprise ride too, huh?"

"Obviously." The man says it with so much restrain as if to hint at backing away which is lost on Izuku.

Plus, the man inspires curiosity, he looks rich.

Izuku has been in the corporate world enough to have a certain eye for suits, why would a rich man, having a face rivalling that of sucking a lemon, take a surprise ride and be annoyed with it? There's got to be something interesting to it right?

Or, he's a nuclear weapon bred in a lab, the saner part of him states, and you have button-pressing issues.

Fuck off, Izuku says to it, go back into your dark closets.

If you crack a bone, lose a limb, break your heart, die, then all of you is blaming you for this, it says before warning in retreat, no permanent consequences. Izuku gives a two-finger wave as it goes back and he surfaces to his outward situation.

"You don't look like you want to be here."

Legends say that's all it took for the man to snap, "Listen here, extra, I'm gonna say this as fucking nicely as possible," the blond begins and Izuku interrupts him.

"Oh you don't have to be nice for my sake," he insists with a wave, earning another nerve popping from the temples of the blond "by the way, my name's—" the taxi screeches, momentarily cutting him off, "—ku."

"Deku?" The blond questions.

"No, it's not—"

"No, you're definitely a Deku," the blond remarks, not nicely as he gives a good once over him and really, Izuku feels like he called that one on himself. The man's phone blinks up and he only sees a blurry bit of the blond's name mentioned with a few other details.

"Then, you're Kacchan," he equips and it's kinda hilarious how fast that smugness is wiped out, replacing it with clueless anger.

"The fuck is a Kacchan?"

"You apparently."

Another nerve pops up, "think you've got a smart mouth, huh?"

Izuku, with the ease that only half-drunks secretly being sober have, smiles cheerfully, "you were saying something before."

Kacchan or unbeknownst to Izuku, Katsuki Bakugou, managing director of the southern Musutafu Corporation, is having a no good, very bad day.

The day in question had already started funny when he forgot it's his birthday. He had been initially bewildered to find the number of flowers in his workplace, making it look more like a florist's vegetation than his office. It ran him into an allergic sneeze, and his coffee had been made late in the worst way possible.

Upon that, he had been coerced into attending an ex's marriage.

He had used the oldest excuse in the book and said his dog had died so he had to go, hopefully making it clear to everyone in the room that he hadn't intended on coming in the first place. But then, his superior pulled an Uno reverse and said he absolutely couldn't use the company cars in an effort to make him stay. Which in hindsight is its own undoing because the further you pushed Katsuki, the harder he'd hit back.

His mom had told him to keep a taxi app on his phone just in case, and it had only this weird surprise thing going on but Katsuki said fuck it, he'd deal with the repercussions when he was out. He just didn't expect said repercussions to be a green glory of sorts, messed up curls and far too bright eyes for his sulking mood. What's more, is that the little shit becomes an instant annoyance the moment he steps into the taxi.

Is he always this talkative and careless? Katsuki thinks, not having a clue to what's to come as he looks at his phone that had blinked up with another friend wishing him.

"You look like you've had a rough day."

"The fuck's it to you?"

"Actually nothing," Izuku replies, honestly, "but I'm interested in knowing."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a stranger."

"And why the hell would I tell a stranger about my rough days?"

"So you have had a rough day," he grins at the slight slip-up.

"Like I said, shitty idiot, it's none of your—"

"Okay, hear me out," he says and Katsuki already eyes him like a tricky deal to wade through but Izuku doesn't let it affect him and the blond queries internally if anything actually does.

Izuku continues, "it's because you don't know me, you don't need to worry about what I think."

"You imagine, Deku," Katsuki starts, sharply, "that I would worry about what you think even if I did know you."

"See, that's the thing, Kacchan. You do, at least a little bit, it does affect you even if you claim it doesn't. But me?" He points at himself, Katsuki is beginning to notice the little freckles dotting him, "there's no reason for you to give a thought about what I think."

Katsuki likens the annoyance this man brings to his mother on a Sunday morning, urging him to look at a matchmaker's selections. Only that this one is nicer because it's actually concerned for him, or is it? he thinks but you know what? He's tired, it's been a long day and it's his goddamn birthday, even if a majority of it has been spent in tiresome existence, he wants to loosen up and so he shrugs to himself.

"I had to attend the wedding of an ex and I couldn't leave."

"That sucks," Izuku says with no brain-to-mouth filter, "why couldn't you leave?"

"My superior was the father of the ex and, he said it would make his daughter feel better if I stayed."

Izuku frowns, "so you stayed?"

"No, I fucking got this surprise ride because he pressed me by saying," Katsuki rummages his head for the exact phrase, "I couldn't use the company cars for personal use since we had all been taken to the venue through it."

"Okay, hold up," Izuku puts his hands in front of him to get the story straight, "you're telling me that you attended an ex's wedding out of courtesy and they decide to push you further up a notch and were surprised at you leaving anyway? Wait, why does it even matter to the bride?"

Katsuki's lips tighten, he looks at the cars they pass, the city lights fading in a little distance and the words fall out, "she still loves me, too fucking bad that she cheated though." Izuku blinks, not expecting it, he thinks about a sensitive way to go further if Katsuki allowed it.

"Kacchan, did you go there to genuinely wish her luck and leave those unpleasant feelings behind?"

Izuku is left a little more than speechless by the record speed that Katsuki's face turns, "Fuck off, no, I went there to ask her to rot in fucking hell, she and her partner deserve each other for both of their shittiness. There might be a lot of couples out there but those two monsters deserve each other, I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Oh. Oh," Izuku reverts, a smile cracking to a chuckle at how Katsuki is sure he had a say in it, "that's interesting. I had a pigeon crap on my suit causing me to go back and have a quick shower, owing to which I was late to work, and then," Izuku adds with another chuckle, "I learnt that my company had filed in for bankruptcy. And I think the worst thing about today was probably this," he indicates with a wave of his hand, "my favourite place ran out of katsudon."

Katsuki stares, flabbergasted.

"....you had all that happen in a single day and the worst highlight of it is the restaurant running out of katsudon?"

"Excuse you," Izuku snaps right back for the first time, "Do you know how tough it is to find quality katsudon in this day and economy?"

Katsuki opens his mouth to argue but realizes that he doesn't exactly frequent restaurants since he makes all of his food at home. He shakes his head before his brows draw up again, "if you've had such a shit day, what are you so happy about?"

"I guess I'm just tired of not being happy so I'm making an effort to—"

"My shrink," Katsuki intervenes, "would call that suppression."

"—not remember what has happened today, I'll figure out what I'll do tomorrow morning," he motions a flick of his wrist, crossing his legs before finally looking out.

A silence grows in the gap they leave out, Izuku searches for traces of civilisation and realises they aren't in the city, he opens the window to let some air and wonders if the tabloid thing he had thought of was true. They come closer to a bunch of vibrant saffron and red tents put together, vivid amber lights flickering, melodies from a community of jovial folk singing in a cascade of drums.

"These are your tickets to the carnival," the taxi driver says, giving them hand bands and simultaneously kicking them out of the taxi, "enjoy."

Izuku and Katsuki blink only twice and they're already watching the taxi leave them in the middle of nowhere. "Kacchan?"

"Don't call me that—"

"You haven't given me your name, so let me take my liberties."

"My name's—"

"I didn't mean that you should give it either."

Katsuki jerks his head sideways, cornering the shorter male, "hah?"

Wriggling out of Katsuki's hand that's coming up to grab his collar, Izuku puts his hands up in a shelter, "look, we can't be strangers if we know the names of the other. And even if I did give you my name, would you call me that instead of what, Deku?" Izuku asks, raising a brow and Katsuki questions if he's being that transparent, is it easy to predict Katsuki or is Izuku just observant?

".....creep."

"Call me whatever, just not my name. Now, I know I'm pushing it but I have a favour to ask," he smiles, his freckles are pretty and it tempts Katsuki to count them at a closer distance, "would it be a problem if I spent the rest of my time here with you?"

"Yes," it comes even before Izuku can even complete his request.

"Why? I'll be a good companion."

"Hell no," Katsuki says, hoping Izuku will take it and leave because he's not sure if he has the energy to refuse him.

"I promise," Izuku hangs closer, he smells slightly like lavender and tea, and Katsuki struggles to not lean in, "I'll be gone before midnight, I have to feed my cat Kenzo, he's a really smart cat but I doubt he can do this one on his own, plus the neighbours aren't there either, they've taken a trip to Aise, apparently Aise is famous for its hot springs and spicy soba noodles, I don't mind soba really, I prefer udon and oh, did you know udon noodles actually came from the southwestern..."

Katsuki tunes him out and just watches the man run his rant into mumble in circles about the most unavailing things. Is he always like this? How do people bear him? You couldn't pay Katsuki to keep him around on his workdays but something tells Katsuki, he isn't generally like this.

"If you're gonna run your mouth like that, I'm gonna sock you."

It works wonders, shuts Izuku up with a smile nonetheless, and Katsuki realises he's concurred to an unsaid agreement, this little, sly piece of shit. Izuku contently walks beside him, Katsuki removes his beige blazer, rolling up white sleeves to his elbows to wear that hand band. They are allowed in and it seems like an odd setting for a carnival. These people who organised it were apparently nomads and travellers gelled into a single group who set up carnivals wherever they felt like, this time it had been in accord with an amusement park and a cab company.

Izuku has his nose deep into the little pamphlet book when he hears — "where do you wanna go, nerd?" The question of courtesy coming from a person like Katsuki that the universe had given him all of an hour to figure out about should have made him squint his eyes in a frown.

"Oh, there's this drop tower thing on the northside," he says, showing the little spot on the map marked with it, they walk to it and Katsuki buys two tickets. Surprisingly, his inebriation doesn't tilt his stomach wrong, not that he had taken that many drinks to begin with, but Izuku takes a whole minute to realise he's on the ground and not stepping somewhere in the air.

"Idiot, if you were going to have a trip then why'd you go?" Katsuki asks, passing a water bottle as they went to the blond's selection. Izuku is back on his game, at least well enough to try and dissuade Katsuki from engaging in a fight with a kid in the water gun game.

"C'mon Kacchan, we need to go to wherever it is you wanted—"

"Yeah, go ahead, Kacchan," the little kid, no doubt less than fifteen, mocks, "you don't stand a chance at winning."

Izuku would have asked the kid to step away because Katsuki somehow gave off the competitive vibe and if that's anywhere true then, he kinda wouldn't tell something like that to his face, maybe subtly but not that bluntly.

"Deku," a voice behind him calls out, cold and quiet, "hold my blazer."

"Eh?" Izuku says when the beige jacket is chucked at him, he removes it from his face only to watch Katsuki single-handedly take down each and every target board, climbing higher and higher until he is on the top, winning all the toys in the little shop.

"Ah, he really won," Izuku mutters to himself in disbelief.

"That was not victory," the shopkeeper leans sideways to correct him, "that was an annihilation."

Upon seeing Katsuki smirking smugly at the thirteen-year-old kid who only has his jaw dropped with all his friends, Izuku finds it a hard time not agreeing. Katsuki tries to dig a step more into being the pettier one by taking the tennis racket that the thirteen-year-old had formerly wanted before Izuku makes the dedicated effort of catching his hand and pulling him out of there.

"Hey!"

"He's a kid besides," Izuku turns over his shoulder, raising his brows to prove a point to the sulking blond that he's dragging along, "you already embarrassed him enough by winning the whole thing!"

"He should've known better than to mess with his elders."

"Oh come on, don't pull that kind of rank on him," Izuku nudges with reason, "we're all dumb and immature when we're thirteen."

"Ha," Katsuki exclaims with a confident grin, it does things in Izuku's chest, "speak for yourself, Deku, I was pretty smart and mature when I was thirteen."

"Smart, Kacchan? Okay, maybe. Mature, on the other hand? Hmm," he shrugs, he doesn't know if it's fair to consider going around fighting with children who you were more than double the age as the peak sign of maturity? But hey, he might just be built different, who knew?

"Shut up, Deku, and stop walking so slow," he says as if it isn't him who delayed it, Izuku sighs and follows. It takes an embarrassing chunk of time for Izuku to see that they aren't exactly heading in the direction of any ride. Instead, they were in front of a restaurant.

Hot Explosion Dynamight (your tongue will burn! melt! vaporise! burn baby burrnnn!)

".....Ka-kacchan?"

"Come on, Deku, let's see your spice tolerance."

Izuku laughs nervously, passing through the decoration that's made out of hot chilli and hybrid peppers, they sure do live up to the name huh, he thinks before answering, "oh there's nothing great about my spice tolerance."

Katsuki smiles, which is downright unnerving. He orders some ghost pepper noodles and they look at Izuku who contemplates ordering water before taking the least spicy dish on the menu.

Izuku's dish comes first, he hopes that the wings wouldn't be true to the tagline of the restaurant. That is until Izuku can barely finish three of the wings without having ugly tears spill, blushing a colour contesting the wings he ate before he passes the rest of it to Katsuki who devours it with relative ease as Izuku wipes his face with a handkerchief loaned by Katsuki.

"Try this," Katsuki says, giving a single noodle from his plate and Izuku narrows his eyes at him and politely refuses.

"Weakling, you wouldn't survive the winter."

"If your spice tolerance became the general measure to survive the winter, Kacchan," Izuku reasons, drinking a lemonade to cool down. "I don't think many from the global statistics would make it through."

"Hence, weakling," Katsuki states, finishing his bowl of noodles and Izuku watches him with comparable awe, crimson eyes meet his with a brow raised. "What?"

Izuku takes a spoon from the cup holder, scoops very little of the sauce and licks it with his tongue darting back. Immediate regret shadows him and Izuku takes a decent sip of the lemonade before giving Katsuki a once over, "huh," he nods to himself before looking at Katsuki, "you really are a beast, Kacchan."

"HA?!"

Ignoring the blond, Izuku asks for the bill and pays for it, earning him a dirty glare from the man finally finishing his noodles across him. "You're the one whose jobless not me."

"I have enough money for quite some time," Izuku reassures but intercepts himself before wondering if he had heard concern from the blond's tone, "I'll be fine, Kacchan, don't you worry."

Katsuki rolls his eyes, muttering, "who's worried? Do you even have a plan—"

"—Shush," Izuku says, the ghosts of his fingers touching the tips of Katsuki's mouth, "we don't talk about it tonight. I'm responsible and determined, but tonight, I don't want to be him," he almost thrives going down the carmine well of his eyes, forgetting what his point is, and he has to lick his spice-red lips to get back on track.

"We good?"

Katsuki's gaze sharpens at the movement, and a little warning goes off in Izuku's head, softly blaring to all of his internal organs, no permanent consequence. It's a bit difficult, he feels since he's just met him, Kacchan isn't gorgeous, he isn't breathtaking.

It's like this— Kacchan, Kacchan looks like a bad habit you'd pick up at the wrong time, he looks at Izuku and Izuku feels he's in the middle of a sea storm. One thing, he's intense, filled with more things synonymous with rage, death glares of the same, he looks like a fighter than a lover, sharp around the edges.

Izuku doesn't want to conceive of what might happen if it's the other way round, like a diamond in the rough— No permanent consequence, remember. And Izuku, well, he's in a tough spot. This night's a distraction, not a determinant because he can't handle being reckless, invasive like this all the time. He needs it to be light like breakfast, no feelings, no permanent consequences.

Even with all his passing reckless and wildness, Izuku isn't going to take the risk of knowing Kacchan. He doesn't want to see where this goes in the morning and that's the lure of being strangers.

So he smiles, steps back into his own comfort zone and much away from Katsuki who is a moment away from initiating something Izuku wouldn't want to give in to. Katsuki takes his blazer, giving Izuku a lasting look before they see masses of people sweeping by, it's large enough to attract curiosity and Izuku stops one of the passerby's.

"Where are you going?"

"The basement, a race is gonna be on any second now," the guy says, fingers rounding the neck chain he has before shooting a smile and heading over. Izuku's elbow is clutched, towing his body along with it, "Kacchan, I can walk by myself."

He didn't let up the grip as they climbed down the staircase, the basement swelters like summer heat tossed in with sweat and smokes. Izuku feels no further than a crack in the pattern and Katsuki's as good as at home. "Have you been to this kind of place before?"

Katsuki smiles, it's genuine and takes back Izuku easily, gone the moment he thinks he sees it. "Yeah, used to, it's been a while."

"Ka-kacchan, are you planning to—"

"Damn straight."

"What am I supposed to be doing exactly?"

Katsuki turns to him, ambition and play climbing out of his speech, "keep your eyes on me and watch me win, Deku."

Izuku does exactly that, there's a little place to sit on the stands and he can figure out where Katsuki is. The blond has already acquired a bike, it's printed in Halloween colours which oddly suits him, the owner of it claps Katsuki's back like they've been friends from long and Izuku is introduced to the fact that Katsuki can be pleasant at first meeting provided it serves some meaningful use.

There's a power in watching him, its almost like you can see his heart on his sleeve, unafraid in its beat, unafraid of its sound. Yes, there's power somewhere there and Izuku is slightly envious, he's really amazing this guy, and it's that thought that makes him displeased with being a bystander to it. Izuku finds himself reaching out to touch that grace.

"Uh, so you're watching, betting or taking part?" A woman comes collecting, few men behind her counting their cash and meeting up. Izuku is about to answer when the call for the half mile race is announced, there's a upward bend at the taller end of the basement, almost like those curves in the skateboard parks Izuku frequents so often.

"I have a question," he says, "does the race allow a two-seater participant? Umm, like that one," he points out to a woman sitting down on her motorcycle and person sitting behind her.

"Uh, yeah, who're you with, bro?"

"Umm, the guy on," Izuku squints at Katsuki's track, "number nine?"

"Blondie?" The woman asks with a brow raised and Izuku automatically responds with, "don't let him catch you saying that."

The men behind her wolf whistle and she raises a very curious brow, "that's very, umm, indicative. So you're here together, huh?"

Something in her tone implies a meaning that Izuku feels like he should be aware of but ever the oblivious character he represents makes him say the truth, "yeah, I'm with him."

"Oh, oh okay, you really don't look like the kind." she laughs.

Izuku frowns, taking a glance down to his clothes, "what's there to look?"

The woman laughs, murmuring, yes, my mistake, while a black-haired man comes beside her, "off the record though, you don't seem like the kind to get along well."

"You don't say," Izuku mumbles, rolling his eyes, "he's a little difficult to handle but so are most people."

"So you're in it for the long run huh?"

Izuku shakes his head, he doesn't intend to know Katsuki beyond today but he's not sure he wants to tell that to people he just met, "maybe."

"Oh, that's gotta take a dig."

"It doesn't, really." Izuku brushes off, but also feels like they're talking about two vividly different things. "I should be going to him."

"You'll need a—" the black-haired guy grabs a little ticket, passes it to Izuku but he doesn't quite let go, he has a very suggestive stare, "okay, let me ask, between you two, who takes it all?"

Izuku's mind fumbles with the terminology and what it possibly means, he doesn't have the brass to google it on his phone for the urban meaning so he simply shrugs and says, "we both do."

"Switches, ah, figures," the black-haired man said and the woman smacks him over his head. "Tatami-chan!"

"We have work to do, Shindou," she growls, "and stop messing around and asking about people's private lives!"

Izuku chuckles, smiling and moving to Katsuki, wading through the crowd of people. When he's close enough, Katsuki finally notices him, handing him the little ticket, his scowl twists when Izuku's leg lifts to the footrest, sitting behind him with ease.

"Deku, what do you think you're doing?"

"They said I could ride with you so here I am," he chirps and Katsuki looks back just in time to see Izuku lean to his side, "or do I distract you, Kacchan?"

All Japanese lexicon ever drilled into him with care from his mother mostly, flies out of the window and he's thinking of how he can frame a reply to that without either sounding like a liar or a coward. Both of which he despises well enough to remain silent.

Izuku counts it as a part of his blessings and achievement, now, that he's gone and done this, he isn't as chivalrous as he had been first to the idea. "Umm, Kacchan, though seriously, I have a cat and a mother who depend on me so please be gent—"

"Be gentle?" Katsuki asks, and if Izuku pulls his imagination out, he's pretty sure he could see horns and a tail, "I'll be a fucking delight to you, Deku."

"Actually, maybe I should—"

"You're not leaving anywhere, you dweeb," Katsuki's voice tells him and the race begins a countdown, "hold on, nerd, wouldn't want you to be blown away."

It's like skateboarding, Izuku tells himself, hands clasping around Katsuki except skateboarding is more of an individual thing and trusting your life with another person like this is a different concept. Especially when said person is someone as reckless as the word describes.

3.....

2....

1

He doesn't shut his eyes, Katsuki told him to watch and so he'll watch. The wind is both knocked in and out of him, adrenaline storms through his veins and Izuku sees them passing the others within a flash. It's so quick, he doesn't know if Katsuki has won, isn't even remotely sure of it but he knows they are smoothly past the finish line.

If Katsuki doesn't stop, they're gonna crash headfirst into the curved wall and it'll be a smooth trip to see a shinigami too.

"Kacchan!"

He only pumps in more speed to the momentum and Izuku holds him like his dear life depends on it. Katsuki gets up a bit and Izuku is stiffly holding onto his lower back and his seat when the bike bounds off the wall, flipped in the air, disregarding physics for a moment, he sees the world turn in familiarity before the wheels hit the ground.

"You still there, nerd?"

Izuku's soul ascending to heavenly planes is drawn back to earthly realms, his eyes flutter open to see a proud smile on Katsuki's face, people cheer in the background but Katsuki somehow makes them irrelevant.

"If I had died," he gasps out, "my soul would become an oni to haunt you for the rest of your life."

"Yeah, but did you die?"

Izuku juts his head looking at the ceiling, a breathy chuckle passing by in the hold of a caramel scent, it relaxes his nervous system to change controls. His hands leave Katsuki's body, it really feels surreal to be on the ground but Izuku is fine where he is. He had won, not that it surprises Izuku, it's beginning to be somewhat of a repetition, the money however goes to the owner of the bike, he tries to share but Katsuki waves it off, he doesn't let either of them spend more time there.

Going up the stairs, Izuku can't help but ask, "I thought you like the thrill of it?"

"There's a line to that kinda thrill, for your own sake, you don't cross it," Katsuki replies, walking out before seeing Izuku isn't following then, he notices the awe-struck gaze coming from Izuku, "what?"

"You're actually level-headed, it's interesting."

"Listen here, you dumb nerd," he scowls, settling into a more suited and comfortable face, "I've always been level-headed."

"To your own eyes, no doubt," Izuku allows, digging his grave further but before Katsuki can bite his head off about it, he points in the direction over his shoulder to the House of Mirrors with the same grin he maintains.

"Wanna go there?"

"Such a child's play," Katsuki says, judging the juniper coloured canopy with swirls of carmine, and Izuku rolls his eyes before recalling the thirteen-year-old kid and decides with a curl of slyness to his brow.

"Oh, Kacchan, if you were bad with mirrors, you should've just said so," Izuku says, shaking his head in a way that is understanding, "let's find something less difficult for you—"

Katsuki narrows his eyes at the green-haired man, knowing exactly what Izuku's trying to do but damn it, he's had never been immune to challenges. "We're going, and I'm going to fucking stuff my winning in your face after we're done with this, Deku," he says, hand attached to Izuku's wrist, tugging him along to the House of Mirrors which had a dragon mouth shaped entrance.

Three women draped in sakura printed white kimonos, bowing before flicking their wrists in succeeding sync, "the House of Mirrors is free of cost but if you don't make it through the end, you are required to pay."

What a typical scam, Izuku thinks plainly, but Katsuki is a firm as a wall, and for some reason, it makes Izuku feel like he might just get through this with him right behind.

"And if we win?"

"Kacchan," Izuku interrupts, peeping into the dark entrance, "sometimes, it's about getting through rather than any incentive."

"Seems like a challenge nonetheless."

Izuku pouts, childish before he encourages himself to indulge Katsuki, "alright, Kacchan," he says, squirming away from his grip to put a good distance between them, walking backwards into the entrance, "catch me at the end of the mirrors."

He sprints at full speed leaving Katsuki blinking before his legs gave into a chase. He's not even sure what he's running to, for some reason, his brain puts Deku as the default target instead of getting out of the maze, catch me at the end of the mirrors? Ha, Katsuki is going to capture that dumb nerd's ass before he's halfway done with the house.

He wades deeper into the mirror maze, Katsuki has nearly bumped into several reflecting surfaces, almost not managing to save his nose or chin from a harsh collision. There's little light, it's ocherous and blinks occasionally to give way and Katsuki stumbles across the layers of reflections, finding only himself.

"Kacchan," comes the sing-song voice, and a glint of orange flickers off on the seams of green, it has Katsuki running right after it, he narrowly avoids the blows and finds the space between the mirrors. Deku's siren song is a weird little thing, it has him running in safe circles but he's always a second too early or late, stringing him like a puppet on a show. Sweetly unaware of the deadly serious state he's sparking in him, Deku comes in streaks, scarred fingers clutching at the corner of a mirror or a breath of viridian in the darker corners. The point of it is he somehow wheels his way through, Katsuki wonders if he's been here before.

"Deku, you little shit, get back here!"

"Wouldn't be fun if I did, Kacchan," comes the playful chatter in his voice and Katsuki decides that he's going to give it his all, damn all the adult sense in his brain to Hell in favour of catching that little shit.

"You think you're so smart huh?"

A sputter of chuckles answers him, "think? I am, Kacchan."

Well, not very, since he's giving off his location, leading the determined blond to clamber his way in the firm direction, passing through his shadows in the mirror. Like taking a shot at blackout party, Katsuki loses his sobriety and guard in the mirror maze, it's disorienting, all he can see is himself in different shards of dusk, and it finally makes him stop at a turn when he looks too deeply into a mirror.

What it houses, apart from Katsuki's whirling soul, is a hand with knives for fingers that holds things too fast, too tight, even when it no longer feels right to do it. He's aware that there are little things that can withstand him but fuck, he doesn't know how to be gentle even if it stared at him in the eye on a Monday morning. He's not going to lie and pretend saintly, he's an asshole, it's something he's regularly known for. People have looked at him and he's shut the door on them like leaving a motel room, a walking tempest with no regard for shipwrecks he causes.

'And who would ever want to stay for someone like you? You don't deserve it.'

His face gripes in a sourness.

"Kacchan? You okay?"

Katsuki snaps his head in the direction of the little query, and he sees Izuku. The light in his eyes just right, shallow breaths with a red tone to his cheeks. Katsuki just knows; this one is the real deal, the fact is only cemented further when he reaches out and Izuku darts only a short step away, still riding high on that instinct. The mistake shows on his face as he realises, a certain untamed grin takes over Katsuki, baring canines and all with an intention, Izuku freezes before his heel rubs the carpeted floor.

Watching the soft gulp going down on Izuku's throat, he warns, "Move, and I'll tear you down."

Izuku breathes a chortle.

He bolts, that little piece of shit. In Katsuki's mind, he is no longer just a piece of it, he's the whole damn platter with no understanding that provoking Katsuki is what led him here in the first place. Katsuki pounces into a race, Izuku laughs like a six-year-old with the parallel of a Lycan chasing him down a slim pathway, a surprised squeak mixing in when a hand grabs his wrists, arms following, lifting him off the floor. Katsuki very well has to try to because Izuku isn't as lean as his formals would fool people into thinking.

"Found ya!" He says, grip tightening around Izuku's waist, muscles flexing under his arm. The mirrors around them reflect Katsuki holding a monster torn between laughing and talking.

"That was cheating, Kacchan, I thought something went wrong with you!" Izuku wheezes out, wiggling and pushing the steel that has somehow bound him to try and make a run for it. As if, muses Katsuki, he's won this fair enough and—

"Congratulations, you've won the House of Mirrors!"

Katsuki and Izuku still in the air, looking at the three ladies before exchanging glances with each other, painfully slow in coming to the realisation that they resemble children in a sandbox than grown-ass adults in an amusement park.

"Well, technically so did I," Izuku adds, none the wiser, "you found me at the end of the mirrors."

"Did not, are you blind—"

"We are literally at the end of it."

"—like Hell, I caught you before you could—"

The ladies watch them rattle in a fight before they escorted them down via a swift and sudden shove right out of the exit. "The carnival dance is going to start soon, it's a good spot to see the fireworks."

Katsuki surveys the map in the pamphlet before recalling, "hey, we got out of this shithole," he says pointing at the house of mirrors, "what's our prize?"

It makes the ladies telepathically converse before one of them smiles, a finger pointing out, "bragging rights."

A moment ensures and Izuku is automatically on the defense.

"Kacchan, please don't be violent to senior citizens," Izuku says, pulling Katsuki back from taking an aggressive step forward, "let's go, I can't dance much but it sounds fun to watch, I'm also hungry."

"Oh, but if you'd like," the ladies say in sync again, it's kinda creepy but both of them ignore it as they are handed over two tokens, "you could take this and it works anywhere."

At this point, Katsuki doesn't even retaliate, letting himself be dragged around by someone a head shorter than him. I really let myself go off with a stranger huh, he reflects with little consequence but it's really Deku who is the vulnerable one here, and Katsuki wonders about his insistence on remaining strangers, and it makes him question— what makes two people strangers? Not knowing their name? Not knowing their true nature? Better yet, Katsuki steers in his mind, do they still remain strangers by the end of the night?

He's interrupted when he crashes into Izuku's back, looking down to the forest of curls, he finds himself not annoyed and it's conveyed by his voice, "what the Hell, Deku?"

"Kacchan, I think the tokens only work in two places."

"The fuck?" Katsuki asks. On top of everything, that woman scammed us?

"It says here," Izuku points in the pamphlet, at a small yellow bubble speech, "that it works at a photobooth and the big wheel."

"We're going to both."

"Wh-what? Do you want to take pictures?" He questions surprised, absentmindedly touching his sides, "we could do that with our phones."

Katsuki twitches his lips, plucking one of the tokens. "We didn't solve that shit to half-ass our rewards, if you're not coming I'm taking pictures of myself."

"What even are you going—" Izuku stops himself when he sees Katsuki just leaving him, huffing out in annoyance with the bull-headed man. He goes along before stating that Katsuki is going the wrong way, how was he even going navigate without a map? They reach the booth soon enough, it isn't filled with many people but then again there are a couple more spread out.

When they give the token, the collector gives them a strange look before putting in a small compartment with a seat and a curtain drawn. Izuku shivers at the little blast brushing his side and he reaches out to tuck his shirt before realising there's a little rip.

"Kacchan! You ripped my shirt out!"

Katsuki, the gall of him, arches his necks to survey and it takes all of one second for himself to conclude that it isn't stress worthy. "It's fine."

"Hey, have you forgotten I'm jobless?"

"Are you serious, nerd? This is where you remember that?" Katsuki says incredulously, and they settle down for their pictures to be taken.

"You were so close to tickling me too," Izuku whines before diligently reminding, "and you didn't even win the thing."

Both of which are dangerous potentials to give to Katsuki, the latter being an action and the former being the stimulus. Izuku would have been more careful if he had seen the grin seeping into Katsuki's face, he would have also gathered that there are little known names of the devilry to describe the look on him. That Katsuki is seeing this the same way he'd treat a company goal.

"Is that so, Deku?"

Izuku, lamb to the slaughter, finally looks at him with no idea of what is to come and then suddenly, acquires it. His gaze goes to Katsuki's fingers and then to the door as if calculating the exact time it would take to escape. If he uses a distraction, he'll definitely make it through but Katsuki resembles a man on a mission and a distraction would serve the opposite quality so Izuku takes a deep breath, legs pushed into a run.

Before he can even reach the red checks curtain, he's snatched back into familiar arms and a tussle onto hell ensues on Katsuki's lap.

"Kacchan," Izuku manages with a levelled ease, "if you let me go, I will pretend this never happened and you will not be hurt." Katsuki's breath hovers over the space under his ear, sending ghost whispers down his neck.

"Oh really?"

Izuku is much closer, enough to smell the caramel scent but in an effort not to lean back, Izuku relaxes quickly, rendering the blond off-guard before he tries to make his escape again. It doesn't work. Hands dig at his sides, he jerks his body back to get away from Katsuki's prying fingers, uncontrollably shaking in gulps of laughter as he thrashes his limbs about like a flailing bird.

"Ka-kacchan, hic-please, okay, you won, oh-haah- my god, stop—"

"Too fucking late, Deku," Katsuki snarls, enjoying his unashamed reign over the giggling man lodged in the space between his legs, arching and twisting in his arms. Damn right, he should have thought better than to rub it in Katsuki's face.

It's not until Izuku is trying to find air, blinking with wet lashes, a trailing, somewhat throaty chuckle passing through his glistening lips that it slowly reduces. Uncertain that Katsuki has stopped, Izuku has his hand on his shoulder, fingers curled into his shirt, staring into the glint in Katsuki's eyes even when there isn't enough light in the room. They're too close, Izuku blankly registers and some part of him sees Katsuki sensing through a similar revelation, it's the moment before the spark barely any time.

Would he really mind a habit, bad as an addiction sounds, moulding into his life?

"It's done." The person outside informs, snapping Izuku into another jerk before he slides away composing himself, surfacing from a deeper instinct that he rams into the back of his mind.

"Come on, Kacchan," he says, taking the blond out of his trance, still in a little confusion. Izuku goes to collect the pictures at the further counter, he slightly regrets it when sees himself ugly laughing and dying at the same time while Kacchan does the work of the devil on him, arms looped around the other. This is bad, a part of him tells while the others agree like Izuku doesn't see that for himself.

He takes a look at the time, it blinks at quarter past eleven in the little light he's given to discern. Izuku shakes his head, regaining his cheer as he walks back in front of the photobooth to where he left Katsuki, he notices a crowd gathered, rather small, mostly of at least four people surrounding the blond. He stops nearby, trying to comprehend the situation and for some reason Katsuki seems annoyed, angrier in his retorts and then, he must've said something, Izuku can't make out what but it looks like it's about to get ugly.

Izuku's body lurches forward on its own, charging in like its unique, sentient version of a bulldozer, crashing in middle of the group and grabbing the hand of a reasonably startled Katsuki before making a run for it. Nonplussed and confounded, they gain little bit of a headstart from the men who try to chase them down. Katsuki is running, still confused on what for but the fun is a little unholy for the colour of the sky and the way his sweaty palm is grasping scarred hands. They pass through people and tents, smokes of food, almost bumping into long queues, not looking back at what they spilt.

Their limbs stop moving when Izuku is convinced they are hidden well, and aren't being followed.

"Deku, what in the fresh fucking hell?"

"Ah, sorry, I thought four against one was an unfair ratio for a fight."

Katsuki jerks his head back in disbelief, "so you chose to grab me and run?"

"I mean," Izuku shrugs, fear that he has offended Katsuki in some way surfacing before he pushes it right back down, "You kinda looked like you needed saving."

It doesn't sit well with the blond who towers Izuku who abruptly finds himself in the very predicament he had stated. Katsuki's offence seems unmitigated and stroked, his body going firm with a narrowing to crimson slits.

"I looked like I needed saving? Are you looking down—"

"No," Izuku cuts him off at the deep end of his sentence. "Like I said, four to one is an unfair ratio, even if you could take all of them at once, you would still be injured," he pauses, straightening his back.

"We're strangers but I don't want to see you hurt, Kacchan."

Katsuki doesn't freeze or still, but he comes critically close to showing blatant shock on his face. His shoulders relax their tightness, he can't help but internally correct Deku, it's because they're strangers, Izuku doesn't want to see him hurt; if he had known Katsuki, well, that would be a different story. He steps back from Izuku, looking sideways.

"I saw them around during the race. Outside the booth, they bumped into me and said I looked funnily at them."

Yep, that sounds like something that would escalate into a fight, Izuku's glad his reflexes worked out faster. Breaths filled in silence coughs into the space between them, but with the way Katsuki stares at, thoughtful in the wheels spinning inside his head, the drum music stammers in the air, replacing their attention.

"The carnival," Izuku says, eyes reflecting the time running out, he returns Katsuki's beige blazer, "let's go."

Katsuki follows him, it's quiet but neither of them attempts to break it like it's a piece that won't mend easily. Katsuki doesn't seem like the person who asks for help, that puts people in miserable places, Izuku thinks, at the moment, there's a heaviness between them, the kind of depth between strangers and it's seen when Izuku peers at him. 

He breathes out, taking it easy, other people are not his responsibility, still, there's a need for him to reach out to the blond. He ignores it in a heartbeat.

Izuku gets light sandwiches for them, ordering a packet of hot sauce alongside without noticing, Katsuki has somehow settled a small plastic table near the dancefloor with two chairs.

The carnival dance is thriving, Izuku prods Katsuki to go because he himself would make a fool out of himself but the blond stays put, nibbling on his sandwich. The beats change, the drum music fades in when several rounds have passed, dancers who are tired take a step back and the chords of a harp song is played.

It starts as a sweet metaphor to Izuku, like soothing rain growing petals after a thunderstorm, he doesn't wish to swim in it any longer so he sinks into it. Izuku watches more commoners join into a dance, slow and gradual, like it burrows an intimate secret. In this crowd, he notices a man in the corner, the man is dressed mediocre but his nervous disposition makes him think of what might be troubling him, the man looks up again secretively and this time, Izuku follows the man's gaze to the woman in red on the other side of the floor.

"Ah," he whispers, loud enough to be heard, "he's in love with her, isn't he?"

"Hmm?" Katsuki says, and Izuku tilts to his side, pointing not very evidently at the man he had just noticed.

"That man is in love with the woman in the red dress."

Katsuki watches close enough to discern Izuku's observations, the guy looks besotted and though people-watching is a trait neither of them engages in for it's either disrespectful or a waste of time, this interests them like a story waiting to unfold.

"God, that guy is such a chicken," Katsuki comments.

"Shush, they might have a history together, sometimes," Izuku defends, "sometimes, people can't do what they want to do."

"If he doesn't do this, he'll obviously suffer in the end for it," the blond argues, groaning when another set is over.

They should really be going to the Ferris Wheel for the fireworks but this has become too interesting for either of them to leave. It reaches a limit when they see the man look away, peering into his wallet, really? Katsuki thinks with a snort, knowing that there's a picture of the red lady in his wallet, the guy's too easy.

But both Izuku and Katsuki are thrown in for a loop when the red lady finally glances his way. Her expressions soften, her eyes seem to be tearing up, she hides it in the palm of her hand and they know now that it isn't unrequited.

"Oh my God," Izuku murmurs, feeling this is going to be painful to watch but he can't stop himself, just one of those painful things people sometimes get curious about.

Beside him, Katsuki imagines he's watching a soap opera that his Dad watches for comfort, which is funny because things like this do not translate into reality. Yet, here Izuku and Katsuki are; watching two people in love run the opposite way like stalkers.

The man looks ready to leave but finally, finally, he looks at her at the same time, Izuku can tell it's a little awkward, a little pained but they meet in the middle for an unsaid dance. It's kinda nice, when she almost steps on his toes, he lifts her into the air and when he goes too far away from the dance circle, she rows them back to its centre. It's bittersweet and Izuku thinks they would make a lovely couple, wonder what keeps them apart? he says to himself and if what keeps them apart is stronger than what could make them stay.

The question remains in the air, hanging heavily on the sultry music sweeping in, the dance is rolling to an end and the couple haven't taken their eyes off each other. Look at me, the man mouths to her, fingers grazing her cheek, brushing away a wavy tendril of her hair, and she gasps through glassy eyes. It's that moment right before that she might have fallen for him all over again, Izuku doesn't have to question what that gasp meant, he already has an inkling.

— I've always been looking at you.

Izuku's gaze comes down from the couple, he's not sure what happened to them but they've left a weight in his chest, an effect of being strangers. A glance at his watch makes him turn to Katsuki only to see the blond staring at him, Izuku doesn't know how long he's been doing that but he looks away slowly, in the background the dances go on with both of them wishing the other asked them out on one.

Neither of them do and before long, Izuku points out, "Ah, Kacchan, we'll be late to the Ferris wheel."

The walk to the Ferris wheel is slightly lengthy before Izuku smiles, "once I got into a car accident right before an interview," he states and Katsuki listens, "it almost broke my back, but when the driver apologised with mango juice, I let it be and just went to the interview anyhow. The interviewers were surprised by a man who survived a car accident and came to the interview instead of going straight to hospital."

"And you got in?" Katsuki asks, his voice seems gentle, it's melting into the night.

"Yes, sometimes, I feel that was the only reason I got through that interview. They must have been impressed with a man who thought the interview was so much more important. Though," Izuku admits, licking his lips, "maybe I just went there before a hospital because I didn't care about myself."

"Figures," Katsuki shrugs, Izuku looks at his beige blazer, eyes softening, "a nerd who accepts mango juice as the equivalent for the injuries....huh, you're really a dumb nerd huh, Deku?"

Izuku laughs in response, it tinkles in the air and Katsuki watches his face go down, "I think before that accident, I was happier."

Katsuki's heart takes a stumble, he doesn't relate to it, being happy with his job and all, he doesn't pity the nerd either but Izuku wouldn't look at it that way if he so little as nudged in the direction of helping him. And because he had been so intent on looking at the green-haired man that he collides with a drunk man holding his juice.

"Fucking Hell," Katsuki curses, pushing him off of him, white shirt stained by tomato juice, he looks at the washroom nearby. "Hey, Deku, I'm going to wash this shit off, you go and book a passenger car on the wheel."

"Alright, Kacchan, come back soon."

Katsuki goes to the washroom, the quality of it is what one can expect from a carnival but Katsuki makes do, cleaning himself enough to be satisfied with it until he reaches home. It takes some time but Katsuki reaches the big wheel, it's not exactly hard to miss being a giant thing behind the rollercoaster. Izuku's there at the counter, he has a little brown parcel under his arm and a scarce curiosity emerges in Katsuki when he sees it.

"Oi, nerd."

"There you are," he chirps, "I got us the last passenger car," and they get into the empty, pink polka-dotted car. Katsuki sits in the further end  and Izuku settles the package next to him before taking a step outside of the door, "this is for you, Kacchan," he tells him as Katsuki takes the brown package on his lap before looking back at the nerd, wondering if he forgot something.

"Why are you there? Something wrong, nerd?"

"Thanks, Kacchan," Izuku says.

Katsuki frowns at the dip in his voice, carnelian gaze withering, "what for?"

Izuku simply smiles at him, it's giving Katsuki a bad feeling. Before he can translate it, the maintenance man closes and locks the door secure with Izuku outside and a loosely confounded Katsuki inside the car. The ride starts and Katsuki knows violently opening the door is a bad theme of an idea, and the timekeeper on his watch riddles closer to midnight.

Helpless in a passenger car that goes up, he watches Izuku turn his back, climb down on the first step of the stairs. Izuku stops once as if to turn and Katsuki fucking hopes he does.

Look back, look at me. Stop walking, where are you walking to if it's not to me? He demands because that's what they've done the whole night. Izuku mixes into the crowd, dissolving into the masses of people like a violently quiet chemical reaction. He left the same way he had come into Katsuki's life, barging in and out with no consent from the blond. Katsuki grits his teeth, damn it, how dare he?

He opens the tiny package.

It's a little muffin, chocolate truffle with a note on the side—

happy birthday, Kacchan, I'm sorry I couldn't say it personally to you. I hope you enjoyed your day as much as I did.

(P.S- not sure if you like chocolate but it's the only one I got)

Katsuki takes a bite of the cupcake, surprisingly, it leaves as bitter a taste as the person who gave it to him.

Above him, fireworks explode in the skies, painting it a sundry of colours, flickering and bursting but none of them last. Deku, you idiot, he thinks, disappointed but Katsuki feels he has a share to blame, what more could have he thought of a person who knew and cared for him as a stranger?

He takes his phone, calls the company for a car. The driver available is more than amused to pick him up, you don't see Katsuki Bakugou in less than sharp perfection and this state of him stirs a perplexion but it is also coupled with a rage that makes the driver mind his business studiously and Katsuki watches the carnival fade in the background. He informs his secretary of a day's leave from his work and reaches his penthouse apartment in a mood worse off than he left which is something he had not anticipated for this year's birthday.

He takes a quick shower before dressing into comfortable home clothes, pouring a bit of red wine in a glass. The wraparound view of the city and horizon that usually gives him a hush of comfort and control only stares back into him today. He puts his suit for laundry, removing his handkerchief through scrabbling hands fiddling for anything left in his pant pockets before he checks his blazer, frowning when he pulls out a long film of pictures.

He stares at it for too long to be addressed and spend the rest of his time drinking wine, not bothering to think or make sense of his feelings.

He definitely avoids mentioning this to his shrink, and luckily for Katsuki who has taken many unofficial years of learning how to perfectly repress his needs, it goes well for years.

Here and there when work floods his office with paperwork, he leans back on his chair, feeling a numbness that corporate life delays until you're right in the centre of it. The shitty aftertaste of his coffee still on his tongue before thinking where a certain green-haired man is. Sometimes, Katsuki imagines he even sees him on crowded streets, always in the corner of his eyes and never in a mirror. 

Katsuki's life moves like that night never happened, it's almost easy because the night really seemed something out of those fictional works and thankfully, Katsuki's work slots open up room for thinking about nothing.

His mother still calls on Sundays and Gods, he does love her in the same turbulent ways a Bakugou does but he's this close to throwing his phone when Mitsuki so little as mentions the matchmaker's name. Is this a side gig for old people? He questions his mother's weird matrimonial tendencies.

"Bakubro, you've changed."

"What?"

"No, like, you're calmer, I've been trying to annoy you for the past ten minutes and nothing seems to work."

Mina chuckles at Kaminari's statement oozing concern, they're in a car on their group day out with Kirishima on the wheel and Katsuki reconsiders how he's friends with these lot.

Sero looks back from the front seat, "he's got a point though, are you okay?"

"Do you want to die?" Katsuki throws back without meaning it and Kaminari is still not convinced before staring at him, as if that will alone resolve if he's actually him or an extraterrestrial parading around with his skin. They've just caught him on the wrong train of thought but Katsuki shrugs it off, tries to settle down from the thrumming on his skin.

"Hmm, your mood should improve though," Sero says, "did you hear our office is getting a better coffee replacement?"

"About fucking time," Katsuki growls, it's a multi-national company and they can't afford decent coffee. While the whole coffee thing has been a running gag of some sort because apparently, annoying Katsuki is an interesting past time, he's just glad they could finally start changing that bit of their morning routine.

"Yeah, we're actually driving to it." Sero says, "apparently, it has a dog cafe side extension, and well, Kiri kinda gets—"

"Hey, dogs deserve all the love and care in this world, most times, even more," the red-haired driver contends, earning an approving hum from Mina. They reach the cafe soon enough, it has a bronze, woody ambience and the smell of coffee beans seeping in little puffs of air, there's a bakery of muffins and a brunette greets them.

"Welcome to Moka Pot," she smiles with a little bow, and a green-haired woman continues croaky voice, "you can order here and collect your token, our server will be with you as soon as your order is ready."

"Oh and the dog park?" Kirishima asks, excitement brimming and the brunette grins back, thrilled, "they are usually kept in the no-food area, you could be done with your food and then, go there."

Katsuki, scratching for a decent cup of coffee, orders exactly that with a slice of pumpkin bread. The others order fruit and nut cookies, raspberry biscuits and espressos, and they settle down at a group couch near the glass

"Uraraka!" Another man calls out, close enough to hear, "for the love of God, stop maxing out Todoroki's card on the cafe' furniture! We have enough couches to house a dozen of people."

"But the decor! The aesthetic!" Ochako squeaks and Iida gave her a no in the form of a look before moving to the green-haired woman. "And you too, Tsu!"

"In our defence, Iida-chan," Tsuya replies with a finger up, "Todoroki-chan gave the card to us himself."

The information takes him by evident shock, and he turns to the half-and-half dyed barista, "why would you do that?"

"It pisses my dad off, and I have a family-friendly competition with Touya-nii on it, I really want to win this week's agenda."

Iida simply stares with several question marks scoping out in his tone, "is it really family-friendly when it's actually your father's card?"

Kaminari snickers at the conversation, "they're an interesting bunch," he says, turning back, and Katsuki who had just tuned back in, merits a concerned look. "You good there, bro?"

Katsuki is about to answer before a loud exclamation makes him turn heads to the squabbling employees.

"Oh come on Iida!" The brunette gripes with a plea clear in her voice, preventing him from going out to the garden area, "please don't talk to him about it! He will make us send it back!"

"As he should! It's his cafe."

"Don't be a snitch, Iida," half-and-half states bluntly, "you're ruining my chances."

"Yes," Tsuya says, supportively, crowding the spectacle man in a group, "and Midoriya-chan will be so sad."

The name flickers in the air like a spark and Katsuki isn't sure why. He shakes his head, going back to Kaminari, "I want my coffee," it earns a laugh from his peers, it's not funny to Katsuki who is determined to look sullen or an apparition of an angry god until he gets it.

Kaminari talks, mostly about his tattoo business, and while Katsuki doesn't take a visible part in their talk, his friends know him long enough to let him be that way. He excuses himself to the washroom to fix his mind, it's irritating enough to have Deku stay on the tail-end of his mind like it's none of Katsuki's business, if the little shit gets access to the forefront of his head, Katsuki just knows he is or rather his work is up for a toss.

He excuses himself and goes to the washroom through a tight passage, washes his face, marmalade lights in a shimmer of amber dims the air when he stares at the mirror, Katsuki isn't even sure if this is all in his head or actually happening.

He sighs before he frowns, a feeling overshadowing his tiredness and the mirror becomes too familiar, a maze-like inducer.

Katsuki frowns, not miffed as he leaves the washroom to come across the narrow hallways filled with frames, particularly a white cat amongst many of the pets here.

Something's off, it appears brighter than it had been, Katsuki's limbs take control, steering him through it in a parallel bittersweetness. He walks through the passage to the end, coming out to the side where his friends are seated, they call him over but Katsuki doesn't listen through the resounding silence.

Because right next to a further table, there's a man wearing a green apron, his hair matching it, he's tilting the watering can to the houseplants by the glass. Gods, there's just so much of green. Thinking it's a fucking joke by life, Katsuki's hand reaches out to wrap around the lithe wrist, stopping it mid-way from reaching to an aloe vera plant.

"Hmm?" The man says, turning around, viridian eyes distracted before they see him. Slowly going wide when they see him and Katsuki still doesn't believe it.

"Kacchan?"

Past them, the glass draws a meeting on its reflection and Katsuki knows.

"Caught you, nerd."