Chapter Text
Katsuki was convinced that Deku had something against doors. Or maybe he just liked showing off. Honestly, either was likely and whatever the reason, it didn’t make Deku randomly showing up in his office by climbing through the goddam window any less annoying.
He slammed down the file he was reading, losing his place on the page.
“Would it kill you to take the stairs like a normal person?”
Deku spun to face him, a vaguely dazed expression on his face and Katsuki's gaze narrowed in on the aggressive stream of blood coming from his forehead, a few inches above his eye.
He narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak again, maybe to fucking call him out on whatever stupid bullshit he’d apparently just pulled. But Deku beat him to it.
“Your office is on the top floor. It’s faster if I just come up this way.”
“If it was really that fucking urgent you could’ve messaged me, nerd.”
Deku’s face twisted into an expression that Katsuki found hard to place. That didn’t provide any comfort.
“My phone is, uh- it got blown up. A bit.”
Katsuki pushed his chair out from under his desk, he could feel the dormant frustration that was ever-present and had been since the day he was born, beginning to cement itself in his chest and leak out his movements.
“Who the hell is blowing up your shit Deku.”
It was somehow simultaneously a question and a statement of fucking disbelief because right now Deku was number two (fuck that. He could be proud of the guy didn't mean he couldn't be pissed about it) and who the fuck blows up his shit? Regardless of anything else, why did Deku let them?
Realistically, Katsuki was the only one who even had the chance. And by God did he abuse that. His lip twitched up a little at the thought.
“I think it might be easier if you come and see.”
The half-smile was gone, Katsuki hated this. He hated Deku being cryptic. He slammed the chair back under his desk hard enough to make the table rattle.
“You’re being weirder than usual,” he accused.
“My day has been weirder than usual.”
Katsuki shot him a look at that, eyes raking over him, partly to check for any other injuries, partly because Deku's foot was bouncing up and down and he was considering how much trouble he’d be in if he just blew it off.
He shrugged on the jacket he'd grabbed from where it was slung over the end of his desk.
“This better be good, nerd.”
Deku mumbled something under his breath that Katsuki didn’t quite catch but which made his blood pressure rise regardless and he promptly grabbed the collar of the nerd's t-shirt when he had the audacity to turn toward the window again.
“We’re taking the stairs.”
“I really don’t think we have the extra five minutes that will take.”
Katsuki stopped, dragged Deku back and spun him to face him before he let go. The blood on his forehead was beginning to dry, Deku wiped it away from his eye, conveniently avoiding Katsuki's gaze.
“What the hell Deku?”
“I-” he exhaled harshly, “It’s hard to explain.” He paused again, far too familiar with Katsuki’s stubbornness to think they were going to get anywhere without giving him some kind of answer. Deku relented, voice resigned but there was still an undertone of something Katsuki couldn't place, something akin to worry. “There’s a couple of kids and I left them at my mum’s flat. We need to get them before she comes home from work.”
As much as Katsuki didn't appreciate how patronizing he sounded (which realistically probably wasn’t the case. His therapist would be proud of him) he knew that was all the answer he was going to get. Unfortunately, he’d known Deku for over twenty years at this point, and if there was one person that was as stubborn as he was it was this bastard.
It was his turn to relent. He sighed, biting his tongue. Aside from everything, Katsuki trusted Deku, no questions asked. So if Deku said this was important then that was all he needed. (not that he would ever say that out loud. Not like Deku would need him to) Plus the entire situation sounded off, so at this point the faster they showed up Aunt Inko's the better.
“Fine. But I’m throwing you out this fucking window.” He shoved Deku toward it.
“That just gives me better velocity.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
—
The trip from Jeanist’s agency to Aunt Inko’s didn’t take long, and the fact they’d unintentionally turned it into a race made it faster through the pure nature of competition. When they got there, to Katsuki’s fucking surprise, Deku was fine with taking the stairs up to his floor.
He’d tried to weed out more information from him on the way over but he didn’t get any more than a “I really don’t know how to explain” before they arrived.
The half jog up the stairs was almost awkward, but the walls were too familiar for it to settle, and Katsuki was too concerned about what they might find to really care.
“Kids you said, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
“And you just left them?”
“There was nothing else I could do Kacchan. This was the safest place for them.”
“Right, Aunt Inko’s flat.” The sarcasm in his voice was biting. Not only was he putting the kids in danger, he was putting her in danger too. God this was so against protocol.
“My flat is way easier to find.”
He furrowed his brows. “Are people looking for them?”
He knew exactly what that felt like and it wasn’t good. He was still a little too paranoid every time he thought someone was following him a little too long in public. He knew Deku was the same. Most of the people from their class were the same.
Some people from their class hadn’t been paranoid enough. He paused for a second as the thought washed over him. Suddenly he felt like he couldn't really breathe, but that was nothing unfamiliar.
“If people find out they’re here, then yes.”
Deku’s voice knocked him quickly out of that line of thought, and he cleared his throat, moving up the stairs a little faster, ignoring the growing aching in his lungs. With every question, Katsuki was just getting more confused, and concern and frustration were rising with every non-answer.
Eventually, they reached the door of Aunt Inko’s flat. Deku reached for the handle, then paused and turned to look at him, something strange glinting in his eyes.
The blood had dried, and Katsuki again raked him over for other injuries but there was nothing, no explanation for why Deku was acting so fucking weird. Kids getting involved always made him feel sick, but they couldn't have been injured because there was no shot Deku would’ve left them, and they couldn’t be threats because there's no shot Deku would’ve left them at his mum’s flat.
Somehow, he had no answers this time, and it pissed him off.
“What?” he snapped, a little too loud, anger lacing his voice. “Just open the door.”
Deku swallowed and glanced away from him, toward the door. “Just- prepare yourself, and you can’t shout like that.”
He bit the inside of his cheek, shoved Deku aside (Jesus the man was built like a brick wall) and pushed the door open.
.
.
The hallway was empty. (it was weird, he hadn't been in this house since he was five and it was almost exactly the same) A second later, Deku was beside him.
“That is exactly the kind of thing you can’t do.” he hissed, voice a half-whisper.
“Maybe I wouldn't if you told me why.” He snapped, and he continued down the short hallway.
“Maybe I would if I genuinely had any idea how to explain this.”
Annoyance and apprehension pumped through his veins.
“Fuck Deku, every time I think you’ve stopped being fucking annoying-”
Deku rolled his eyes, “Oh, like you’ve ever thought that Kacchan.”
Sometimes he forgot how easily Deku was able to get on his fucking nerves because it didn't happen so often anymore and Katsuki had gone to therapy for the last five years. However.
“Because you’re constantly fucking annoying Dek-”
“Shut the fuck up.”
The words were hissed and harsh and Katsuki whirled round to face Deku. He and the nerd had got into some pretty vicious fights over the years, physical, and verbal, but getting Deku to actually fucking swear, took a lot more than this. Something wasn't making sense, and Katsuki hated when things didn't make sense. Hated when Deku seemed to know things he didn't because it reminded him entirely too much of his first year at UA. The childish frustration mixed with the confusion that had been coursing through him since Deku landed in his office (shit he still had to finish that paperwork) came out tangled in his voice.
“The hell did you just say to me?”
Except Deku looked like he wanted to fall through the floor.
And then the muttering started, entirely familiar but distant enough that he couldn’t actually make out what was being said.
Except Deku was standing in front of him, lips pressed together like he had eaten something sour.
Something clicked in Katsuki’s brain.
Except that was insane.
But the muffled muttering sounded so goddamn familiar, and Deku was still sanding here, lips not moving and unless he got really fucking good at ventriloquy without Katsuki knowing there was only really one answer. Because those mutters were ingrained in his brain, for most of his life he was trying to get rid of them.
“Deku.” He said slowly. “Who are the kids?”
Deku’s jaw tightened for a second before he met Katsuki’s gaze, eyes hard.
“I think you know Kacchan.” He swallowed and nodded his head down the hall. “They’re in the kitchen.”
Katsuki hoped he was wrong. But things rarely ever went right for him. He met his eyes again and then stalked into the kitchen, Deku on his heels.
The kitchen was exactly as he remembered it.
Aside from the two young teenagers sitting at the table.
One with a green mop for a pile of hair, his eyes downturned and gaze fixed on the table, smaller than he ever remembered Deku being, and the other, blond, glaring up at him with a look that Katsuki saw far too often in the mirror during UA.
“What the fuck.”
He took a step back when the small one- Deku, it was Deku- seemed to shrink back into himself even further. It was a reaction he hadn’t seen in years but looked all too familiar on the kid.
"The fuck do you think?” and that was his voice. Little, like, fourteen year old him. He was in his Aldera uniform.
What the fuck.
And then Deku was at his shoulder again, and Jesus the man was fucking huge now, height and body mass wise, compared to the fucking kid in front of them that had yet to even lift his gaze from the table. Katsuki had forgotten how easy it used to be to push Deku to the ground and kick him while he was down. The man had been built like a brick wall for years now, and he hadn't flinched at the name Deku in even longer.
“Were you both okay while I was gone?” Deku asked as he stepped around him, letting him revel in disbelief for a moment.
“I don’t need to be fucking babysat. I managed to land a hit on you didn’t I?” And his voice was so fucking angry, and Katsuki sent a silent thanks to his therapist before examining the kid in front of him. He was draped over his chair like he owned the place, jaw tensed and eyes narrowed and Katsuki could recognise his own habits in it all.
Deku, who had moved toward the sink and grabbed a glass from the shelf, raised a hand to the cut on his forehead, and the blown-up communicator suddenly made sense. No wonder Deku had just let it happen.
“Yeah. You definitely did.” Deku’s voice was a little strained. Like he couldn’t quite work out what to say, and Katsuki couldn’t blame him for the awkwardness of it all.
What the fuck.
But it was finally at that, that small Deku looked up, his gaze following Katsuki’s Deku across the room.
“I can get some bandages from the bathroom if you like?” His voice was quiet but bright, “if mum still keeps them there.”
And before Deku could even answer another voice chimed in.
“Deku, I said shut the fuck up.”
Katsuki's gaze was on little him in an instant. He’d spoken slowly, voice low and Katsuki knew a threat when he heard it. Younger him's jaw was still tensed and his eyes seemed to glow as he aimed his glare at little Deku with the promise of something they all recognised in aggressively different ways, and suddenly Katsuki felt slightly sick.
“Hey Deku, can I talk to you for a second.”
The words he managed to force out weren't a question.
He ignored how little Deku flinched at the name and the barely concealed anger in his voice and reminded himself to count to ten and unclench his fists. Deku met his eyes, glanced to little Katsuki, and then to him again.
“Yeah. Come with me to get some bandages.” He set down the glass of water and turned back to the kids- themselves, kid versions of themselves. “There’s food in the fridge if you want anything. We’ll be back in five minutes. And then you can tell us both what happened again alright?”
Little Deku kept his mouth shut and barely nodded. Little Katsuki rolled his eyes.
And Katsuki stormed out of the kitchen before he exploded.