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The room had been a little too still since the night they talked and somewhere in the back of Izuku's mind, he felt compelled to break it.
"Remember when I mentioned that I had a wound on the right side of my stomach?" He pointed near his waist and his roomate, Katsuki, nodded in something that almost looked solemn but was curious as well. It wasn't a random topic, no, not even a small talk. Izuku had more things to discuss. Besides, he had already told Katsuki that once they've started talking about it, they would have to hear the rest.
"You had gallstones when you were fifteen, you had to be operated." Good, he remembered that. "You've never been good at taking care of yourself, Deku." There was a short click of tongue that followed.
Izuku laughed dryly, because even if that was true, it was still outrageous. "I was a teenager being bullied, Kacchan. The last thing I took into consideration was my health." How could one even think of their health when they just wanted to be gone?
Katsuki held his tongue and it almost made Izuku guilty. It had only been a week since they brought up their pasts to each other and the topic was still too raw to touch. Too fresh when they both had just acknowledged that their younger selves looked through the different side of the perspective — that of a bully and a victim, with one having guilt grew up with him and the other remaining with rage. Such an odd pairing they made and compressed together in one room.
"What about your wound?" Katsuki backtracked. He's responding instead of completely avoiding it. Seems like Izuku is not the only one who wants to finally break the ice that had been forming for days.
"I used a wound to drive away the bullies." It was never 'my bullies' like one would usually state. Izuku no longer wanted to put himself in any association with those kids, not even through words.
Katsuki had always known Izuku's tendency to blow up at times, even though it rarely happens. "What, did you threaten to give them the same wound or something?" That would be too common, but he found himself not minding if it's what Izuku actually did.
"Not exactly." Izuku was more of a repressed anger, he burns and fades then explodes quietly; he wouldn't state his intent as directly as a threat of violence. "It was a play of words to tell them that I'm much more capable than them."
"Capable of what? Harming them?"
"Ruining them."
Hearing such a heavy word from Izuku should feel frightening. Should be, but Katsuki was stuck somewhere in the strike of pride. It has long been established that Izuku can get his way in things he wants with only pure determination, but nothing feels as divine as his drive when his motive comes from harbored hatred.
"I told them that I was stabbed—"
"A lie."
"Is it?" Izuku's hand ran on his clothed abdomen, tracing circles that Katsuki found fascinating to watch. "I told them to guess why I was stabbed, told them to guess what I made my father do in order to get his name tainted in jail. I told them that he'll eventually step out of bars with nothing but the image of an abusive father, and that I'll always visit him as the crime he had committed."
Katsuki laughed, but not because he found it funny, it just felt more appropriate to react that way to the fact that you have to be the bad guy to chase away assholes. "You gave them an idea of what you can do when you're against someone — with a lie."
Izuku gave him an unusual look before turning away. "He wasn't completely fazed, though. Some of my classmates asked me if I actually had a wound on the left side of my tummy, so I guessed he tried to tell them. They were a bit insistent until I gave in and told them the truth that it was from a surgery. Then I showed them my operation's stitch, right in front of the bully." He stood up and took off his shirt. "He looked terrified."
Katsuki looked away, almost like he was forbidden to see even a glimpse of Izuku's skin. He remained like that until he caught on to something. "Left," he uttered. "They were asking about a wound on your left side."
"It's what the bully had told them."
"You showed him your operation's stitch. That's on your right."
"I never said I showed him the wound from my surgery, Kacchan." Izuku turned around, his hand on his sides, revealing his bare scarred skin. He relished the shock that took over Katsuki and for a moment, he saw a glimpse of the old bully. It felt gratifying. "I never said I lied to any of them."
There, on both sides of his abdomen were two stitches from different causes.
Katsuki did not move. He was shivering and he guessed that it must be what the bully had felt before. Like they were being punished. Still, he didn't look away, just kept on staring at the wounds like they personally mattered to him and imbued the story that Izuku had told him.
"You like it, don't you?" Izuku walked forward and sat next to him, too close but also distant. "The story, the threat, the almost revenge." Too close. Too distant. "You liked to imagine being in their place and you were conflicted when you found that out. That's why you avoided me after we talked."
There was no point in denying, Katsuki figured. A lie wouldn't go unnoticed by a person who manipulated his own father as a teen. "I do like it," he admitted, facing Izuku and catching his gaze. "Just as much as you enjoy it."
Shock didn't cross Izuku's face. He looked more grateful, if anything. He had found a partner who seeked punishment as much as he did. "We fit together somehow."
Katsuki snorted. "Not as friends, that's for sure."
"Of course." Izuku smiled and they shared the silence of knowing.
Of course, they couldn't be friends. Friendship is not about taking out your anger to relieve someone of guilt.