Work Text:
Hello, little star. Are you doing fine?
Izuku has known Katsuki ever since he was born.
According to his mother, Auntie Mitsuki was in the hospital room with her when little Izuku came into the world. The doctors wrapped Izuku in a plush red blanket with cartoon sheep on it, and Auntie Mitsuki brought her baby boy, Katsuki, into the room. Katsuki had been three months old at the time.
Auntie Mitsuki had bent down to let the two bundles of joy babble at each other, and Izuku had let out an exuberant scream, reaching up and poking Katsuki on the cheek.
Izuku doesn’t remember the experience, but he loves the thought that Katsuki, his Kacchan, was his very first friend at the wee young age of one hour old.
Now that he thinks about it, that was probably the moment Izuku crashed into the planet that is Katsuki, getting sucked into his gravitational pull — he was fated to orbit around Katsuki, from the very beginning.
*
They were inseparable. Anywhere Katsuki was, Izuku would be.
They were obsessed with learning about outer space. Or more accurately, Katsuki was obsessed with learning about outer space, and Izuku looked up to Katsuki. Therefore, he wanted to learn more about the cosmos that Katsuki found so fascinating.
They’d spend hours on the playground, kicking their dangling legs happily on the swings, trying to go higher and higher until they could reach the stars. They’d pretend to explore supernovas, meteoroids, and all that existed beyond the planet they called home.
After hours of playing, they’d lie on a blanket in Katsuki’s backyard, knees stained green with grass, juice pouches clutched in their tiny hands.
“Hey, Deku! Look up!” Katsuki squeals, shooting up to his feet. He points a sticky finger at the sky, his blonde hair blending in with the golden-orange burst of the setting sun. “It’s a Battlecruiser! It’s so cool, right?”
Izuku looks up curiously at the shiny spacecraft, hurtling further and further away from Earth. “Yeah, I guess so!” He squints, then pauses. “What’s a Battlecruiser, Kacchan?”
“You don’t know what a Battlecruiser is?” Katsuki shouts, absolutely baffled. “It’s a spacecraft that Fighter Pilots from the UA Space Army fly! They go to outer space and fight aliens to protect Earth!”
“Whoa,” Izuku says. He knew aliens threatened their home planet, but he never knew there were people out there brave enough to fight them.
“Say, Deku,” Katsuki replies, eyes bright, “I’m going to be onboard that one day, you know. I’m going to join the UA Space Army and fly my own Battlecruiser and blast all the aliens away! I’m going to keep Earth safe and become a hero!”
Izuku frowns. He no longer thinks Battlecruisers are cool because they’re going to take Katsuki away from him one day, and he can’t let that happen.
He won’t.
He can’t imagine a world where Katsuki is not by his side.
*
They’re playing in Izuku’s backyard one day when warning sirens sound across the country, signaling that aliens have landed on Earth to continue their annihilation of the human race. The sound seems to be coming from all directions simultaneously, and Izuku is frozen with fear.
“Izuku, Katsuki!” Inko shouts, sprinting towards them, eyes frantic. “Get inside, now!”
The three of them race towards the house and downstairs to the basement built in all homes for times like these. Izuku loses track of time, doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting on the cold floor with his heart racing.
“It’s okay, scaredy-cat Deku,” Katsuki says, reaching out and squeezing Izuku’s tiny hands in his own. His red eyes are bright in the dark of the room. “When I become a UA Pilot, I’m going to destroy all the aliens, just like heroes do! So I can keep you, Auntie Inko, my parents, and everyone else safe,” he says, with a particular single-minded ferocity.
Izuku’s eyes widen. Katsuki is going to be his hero, but who’s going to be Katsuki’s hero? Who is going to keep Katsuki safe?
Izuku decides right then and there, crouched in the darkness of his basement, that he’ll be the one to keep Katsuki safe. He will be Kacchan’s hero.
*
There’s a home video of them during Halloween wearing matching spacesuit costumes. The smallest size at the store was too big for them — the sleeves cover their hands and the boots are high enough to reach their knees.
They’re trick-or-treating around the neighborhood. Katsuki rings a doorbell and a sweet lady opens the door. “Happy Halloween!” she says cheerfully, pouring candy into their pumpkin-shaped baskets. “What are you two cuties dressed up as?”
Katsuki puffs his chest out proudly. “I’m a Fighter Pilot for the UA Space Army!”
“Oh, how wonderful!” the lady coos. “And what about you, honey?” she asks Izuku.
“I am also a Fighter Pilot for the space thing Kacchan wants to be a part of!”
“Well, how wonderful is that?” the lady says. “You two will be fighting aliens together when you grow up!”
Katsuki beams because he’s always wanted to fight aliens.
Izuku beams because he’ll get to be with Katsuki.
*
When I close my eyes, I dream of you, the planet earth.
When they’re in middle school, a Fighter Pilot from the UA Space Army gives a presentation at their school. Katsuki is so excited he can barely sit still. It makes Izuku happy to see Katsuki so happy.
“When you turn eighteen, you can apply to become a Fighter Pilot for UA,” the man says, smiling.
Katsuki’s breath catches at the word “pilot” and he flashes Izuku an exhilarated smile.
There’s a lot of whispering going on, with all the kids ooh-ing and aah-ing at the fact that such a thrilling job exists in the world. When the Pilot concludes his presentation, he opens up the floor for questions.
Most questions are silly, like “What foods do you eat in space?” But a girl sitting next to Izuku asks a question that catches his attention: “How long are you in space for when you’re a Fighter Pilot?”
“That’s a great question,” the Pilot responds. “You’re in space for a very long time. The longest someone has been gone is ten years, and they’re still out there in space right now.”
Izuku blanches. Ten years? He can’t imagine being gone for ten years, being away from home for ten years. Who’s going to take care of his mother if she gets sick? He’s all she has.
“Fighting aliens is dangerous work, boys and girls,” the Pilot says. He’s frowning slightly now. “It may sound like a cool job, but there are a lot of risks involved. I leave for my own mission in a few weeks, and I don’t expect to be back on Earth for over a decade. My family is very sad to see me go, but I want to do this because I want to help defend our planet.”
The classroom is a lot quieter now, the energetic mood dying down with the information that has been revealed.
A boy sitting in the corner of the classroom raises his hand. “Do you get to talk to your family when you’re in space?”
The Pilot smiles at the boy, but it doesn’t look quite as genuine as before. “Yes. I can communicate with family and friends through electronic messages sent through my Battlecruiser. But the further I travel into space, the longer it takes for my messages to reach Earth.”
“How long?” Izuku asks hesitantly.
“Once I reach my destination planet of Kionus where the aliens live, it could take up to eight years for my messages to reach Earth.”
Izuku’s mouth drops open. Eight years? It’ll take eight years for his mother to read his messages. Eight years to tell his mother he loves her.
His lower lip wobbles, being a UA Fighter Pilot doesn’t seem so amazing now.
He doesn’t notice, but Katsuki looks at him from across the room with a pensive expression on his face.
*
As they grow older, something shifts.
Instead of talking about superheroes, sports, and video games, the boys in Izuku’s class start talking about girls, crushes, and dating. It’s nothing Izuku ever really thought about before. He thought the girls in his class were kind, and he found some of them cute, sure. But he can’t imagine dating any of them, much less kissing them on the lips.
The first time Izuku receives a love letter from a girl in his class, he’s completely baffled. He tries his best to let her down gently, but she still struggles to hold back tears, running towards her friends who send him death glares. He feels absolutely awful. If this is what dating is like, he doesn’t enjoy it at all.
Katsuki walks over to him after witnessing the whole scene. “Why didn’t you accept her confession, shitty Deku? She’s had a crush on you since elementary school, you know.”
“I—I just don’t like her that way… I guess,” Izuku says, pouting at the sheet of pastel pink paper.
Katsuki plucks the letter from Izuku’s hands and scans through the cursive written in glittery gel pen. “She wants to go to the comic book store with you and go on shitty ice cream dates,” Katsuki crumples up the letter and scoffs. “Sounds lame.”
Izuku shifts on the balls of his feet. “I don’t wanna go on ice cream dates with her…” he says quietly.
“Of course, you don’t—”
“I’d rather get ice cream with you, and go to the comic book store with you,” Izuku interrupts.
It’s silent for a bit, and when Izuku looks up, Katsuki is looking at him with a bewildered expression on his face that quickly morphs into one of triumph. “Of course, you’d rather go with me,” he says, smirking. “Let’s get ice cream now, I’ll even pay for you with my allowance.”
Like a date, Izuku thinks to himself. He smiles and nods. Katsuki crumples the letter into a ball, throwing it into the trash bin. The girl and her friends let out a disbelieving squawk.
“You’re so mean, Katsuki! I don’t know why Izuku hangs out with you all the time!”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Well, Deku wants to go on ice cream dates with me, and not you. So I win,” he says, sticking his tongue out. He wraps an arm around Izuku’s shoulders, leading them towards their favorite ice cream parlor, and something warm blossoms in Izuku’s chest.
Katsuki pays for their ice cream, he even lets Izuku buy a double scoop. Izuku thinks that this is how he wants things to always be — him and Katsuki, together. If he could stop time, it would be at this moment, Katsuki’s hand warm on his shoulder, Katsuki smiling.
If this is what dating is like, he can get used to it.
*
They’re in high school when they have their first major argument.
Usually, they argue about trivial, nonsensical things, like who gets to pay for the ice cream on their “dates”, or who gets to read the latest All Might comic first. But this is the first time Izuku has seen Katsuki this upset with him.
They’re working on homework in the library, and Izuku is reading a textbook about the history of the UA Space Army. He’s zoned in on an article specifically about Fighter Pilots, about how dangerous the job is.
Once Pilots reach their destination, they eliminate alien threats with the shooters built into their Battlecruisers. Aliens are unpredictable, and their attacks can be deadly. Only 10% of Pilots dispatched make it back to Earth.
Izuku’s heart stops. It takes years to make it to Kionus, and after all that, there’s only a ten-percent chance of survival. He thinks of his mother, alone and worrying about him for over a decade, not knowing if her only son would make it back home. It would break her heart, she’d worry herself to death.
“You look extremely thoughtful right now, nerd,” Katsuki says, coming up behind Izuku and resting his chin on Izuku's shoulder. His breath is warm against Izuku’s ear as he glances at the textbook. He’s silent, then he asks suddenly, “Why do you wanna become a Fighter Pilot?”
This breaks Izuku out of his reverie. “What?” he asks, turning so he can look at Katsuki.
“I know you don’t care as much about space travel as I do. You never showed much interest in it.”
That’s a silly question. Katsuki should know the answer to this by now. “Because you and I are supposed to fight aliens together. We’ve decided this since we were kids.”
“That’s fuckin’ stupid,” Katsuki says bluntly, and Izuku startles. Katsuki doesn’t say it to be cruel, and there’s no malice in his tone, but the words still cut Izuku like wires. “You should do what makes you happy, shitty Deku.”
Being with you makes me happy.
“Becoming a Fighter Pilot and protecting humanity from aliens will make me happy,” Izuku says. But he doesn’t sound very convincing, even to his own ears. “I want this.”
“You don’t want it like I do, and you know it.”
Katsuki’s words, and the meanings behind them, sink into Izuku’s skin and tattoo themselves on the insides of his ribcage. Katsuki has always known him better than he knows himself, Izuku can’t deny that.
He thinks about his mother, all alone, with no other family close by. But Izuku will be safe. He and Katsuki will be part of the ten percent that defies the odds and returns home — healthy, happy, whole, and together.
“I want—”
Katsuki cuts him off. “Don’t fucking join just for me, you idiot. I want you to make your own damn decisions.” He’s nearly yelling now, raising his voice in the quiet of the library. “If you join just for me and something happens to you, I’ll feel guilty my entire goddamn life.”
Izuku feels overwhelmed, like the weight of the world is on his teenage shoulders. He looks at Katsuki and thinks that he’s so beautiful, in a way that only Bakugou Katsuki could be. Beautiful the way a knife is beautiful, sharp and painful.
“Then let me make my own decisions, Kacchan,” Izuku says, slamming the textbook shut.
Katsuki stares at him, eyes blazing, then he turns around and leaves. Izuku is left alone, blinded in the wake of Katsuki’s fire.
They don’t talk for a month.
*
When Izuku turns eighteen, he stares at the UA application on his computer. He thinks of the days he spent specially crafting his answers so he’d be guaranteed admittance, so he can continue being with Katsuki, because there’s no way Katsuki wouldn’t be accepted.
He thinks of their argument years ago.
“You don’t want it like I do, and you know it… I want you to make your own damn decisions.”
Izuku deletes the application.
It somehow feels like the right choice.
*
See the shine that never blinks, the shine that never fades.
“I got accepted,” Katsuki says to him a few months later.
They’re standing paces apart from each other in a crowded school hallway, students rushing by around them. It’s an entirely inappropriate place to have this discussion, yet somehow, Izuku thinks it’s perfect. After all, nothing in their lives seems to be going according to plan. Why would Izuku expect this to be any different?
“I scored the highest on the written exam because I’m fuckin’ amazing.”
Izuku smiles, but it feels like Katsuki pushed him off a cliff and watched as he tumbled down, down, down.
“That’s wonderful, Kacchan!” I’m losing you. “When do you depart?”
Katsuki looks back at him, his eyes tracking every line of muscle on Izuku’s face. Izuku knows that expression — he’s as familiar with the slant of Katsuki’s brows as he is with the way Katsuki breathes by now.
“In three months. They’re preparing our Battlecruisers and I’ll have to go through combat training.”
“I’m so happy for you! I never doubted you for a second, Kacchan.”
From this distance, Izuku thinks he shouldn’t be able to see the emotions that play on Katsuki’s face with such clarity. The confusion, hopefulness, hurt. But then his expression settles into something Izuku can’t decipher.
“Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t, nerd.”
*
They spend almost every waking moment of the remaining months together, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.
They drive down the open road with the windows down, the evening breeze blowing through their hair.
When it’s like this, when Katsuki is laughing and they’re relaxed, it’s easy to imagine that this is how things would be if life were different. If aliens never found Earth, if the UA Space Army didn’t exist, maybe this is where they would have been, happy and generally content with the world.
“Time is such a cruel fuckin’ thief, huh?” Katsuki says as they’re lying on the hood of Katsuki’s car, trying to make out the constellations in the night sky.
Izuku turns and stares at the side of Katsuki’s face, he looks positively radiant, illuminated by the moonlight. “What do you mean, Kacchan?”
Katsuki turns his head to look at Izuku and the movement brings them closer together. He can feel the strands of Katsuki’s soft blond hair tickling his forehead.
“We were able to know each other since we were babies, but right when our lives are about to truly begin, all our time is fuckin’ stolen away.”
Izuku sucks in a breath, closing his eyes, trying to will away the tears that threaten to spill.
The shadows hide Katsuki’s expression when he turns to look at Izuku. If he tried, Izuku could probably make it out, but he’s not sure he wants to.
He sees a glint in the darkness and sees that tears are staining Katsuki’s cheeks.
Izuku feels like he should say something — they don’t have much time. But that isn’t anything new anymore.
*
Katsuki stands outside of Izuku’s house for what feels like the last time.
He’s wearing his UA uniform and he looks like he was born to wear it. The jumpsuit fits him just right, and the orange X pattern across his chest seems to match his personality — loud, yet precise, with no room for mistakes.
“Did you say goodbye to your parents?”
“Yeah, just did. Wanted to say bye to you last.” Katsuki smiles, and it’s not fake, but it’s smaller than his usual smile, his voice softer.
Part of Izuku thinks he should say something. Something like, I’m sorry I made the choice not to leave with you, or maybe I know I’m going to spend every waking moment thinking of you. Something, anything, to tell Katsuki that it’s not what it looks like — that Izuku didn’t choose to stay because Katsuki isn’t enough.
Because Katsuki is so much more than enough, it’s unbelievable how enough he is.
“We can still communicate over electronic messages. I won’t be completely gone,” Katuski says softly. And it’s disorienting, hearing Katsuki’s voice sound so small.
Izuku wants to scream. It feels like his skin is too tight, like all of the things he wants to say to Katsuki are making him too big to fit. But there are two things, in particular, he wants Katsuki to know.
The first is I don’t want you to go.
But he can’t tell Katsuki that. This has been Katsuki’s dream since he was a child, since he first knew what the The Milky Way was.
The second is I love you.
After all this time, Izuku thinks he’s learned something about bravery. But he somehow can’t muster up enough of it to say those three little (big) words.
“I— Kacchan— I —”
“Me too, Deku,” Katsuki says. He smiles. It looks smaller than any smile Izuku has ever seen on him, but it’s perfectly radiant all the same. Katsuki is still beautiful, but he’s not all steel and fire anymore. “Me too.”
Katsuki pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, tucking Izuku’s head under his chin, arms tight around his waist. Izuku hangs onto him like a lifeline. When they finally let go, Izuku feels like his body has been shaken apart and put back together again, but not quite the same, like there are hairline fractures on his insides — he’s not sure if he can be put back together again.
*
Hello, tiny star. Can you hear me call?
Katsuki has been gone for two years and three months.
The problem with Katsuki then, and the problem with Katsuki now, is that even though he’s lightyears away, just the thought of his existence makes Izuku feel like he’s burning. His voice, his laugh, his touch — all of it, too intense for Izuku. Sometimes it’s all Izuku can do to not crumble to ash at the first thought of Katsuki.
He rereads the message he received from Katsuki a few months ago.
From: Bakugou Katsuki
Hey Deku, by the time you receive this message, you’ll be twenty. We’re really fucking far apart, but I think that what we have can overcome time and distance, right? See you soon.
It’s only three lines, but it’s enough to make him feel like someone lit a fire inside him to keep that little flicker of hope burning, hope that Katsuki will return home.
*
“Maybe my destiny was never to become a hero.”
It’s uncomfortable to say aloud, but Izuku supposes that’s why he’s saying it in the darkness of his bedroom to no one in particular — instead of to Katsuki before he left, when Izuku would’ve had to own up to the words.
“Maybe my destiny is that I’ll follow you everywhere. Sometimes I think that I hate you, Bakugou Katsuki.”
But he doesn’t, really. He’s just in love, and sometimes that feels like the same thing.
*
Through the years and far away, far beyond the milky way…
Katsuki presses his forehead against the quartz glass of his Battlecruiser window and breathes there. His breath fogs the glass, but it doesn’t make a difference to the view — there are stars as far as he can see, clouds of interstellar dust floating around him in a haze.
He propels through the cosmos, getting closer and closer to Kionus. The loneliness is blinding and deafening, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to it.
“Hey, shitty Deku,” he says into the quiet hum of the atmosphere. “Just one more planet to go before I reach Kionus and kick some alien ass. From now on, it’ll take six years to receive each other’s messages, so I doubt I’ll hear from you soon.”
He pauses, looking out the window again, staring at the passing planets with their orbiting moons. He thinks about how planets came to have moons, how early in their formation, other rocks in space crashed into the planet and became trapped in the planet’s gravitational pull.
He thinks of how that’s very reminiscent of him and Izuku. Except Katsuki chose to leave, disrupting the laws of gravity, rendering their worlds off balance.
“You know, Deku,” Katsuki says. “I have a shit ton of time to reminisce about our lives. After all, I have nothing here. I think about our ice cream dates, and how we tried to act like it was completely normal for two friends to go on dates at all. How we’d stay up late reading the latest All Might comics and I’d fall asleep first. You’d kiss me on the forehead when you thought I was asleep.”
Katsuki hasn’t thought about love in a long time. It isn’t in the cards for someone like him, someone who will probably never make it back to Earth. The thought of love is painful, raw, and despairing, and it makes Katsuki feel like he’s being torn apart from the moment he regains consciousness every day. But whenever he thinks about emerald green eyes or freckles that look like constellations, he thinks love can be beautiful.
“It’s always been you, Deku. You were the hardest to push away.” It hits Katsuki like a kick to the teeth how much he misses Izuku in these moments.
It’s Katsuki’s life, and these are Katsuki’s choices. But they feel more out of his hands than anything has in a long, long time.
“Deku, I wonder if you’ll forget… about me?”
*
Izuku looks at his phone:
Inbox (0)
It’s been years since Izuku last received a message from Katsuki. Five years to be precise.
Though he’s had five years to come to terms with it, it’s still hard to accept that if Katsuki were to die on his mission, Izuku wouldn’t be there with him.
Izuku remembers when the UA Fighter Pilot came to their school to give a presentation. He remembers that day well, when he thought the period of eight years seemed eternal.
It still seems eternal, but he’s getting used to it now, to the feeling of living with uncertainty. Although he hasn’t lived his life without uncertainty, since the day Katsuki made the decision to leave behind everyone he loves to join the interstellar battle, Izuku still has hope.
Hope that Katsuki will return to him. Because they’re two lovers, worlds apart, striving to remain connected as the gap between them widens at a frightening pace.
They are lovers. They’ve never explicitly stated it, but Izuku knows.
*
See the shine that never blinks, the shine that never fades.
Five years becomes six. Izuku is offered a job as a backup pilot for UA and he rejects it, because he hates the way he orbits around Katsuki even though Katsuki isn’t here anymore. He feels like he’s trapped in Katsuki’s gravitational pull, circling around him, trapped in the same path — frustration, anger, devotion, love, endless loyalty. It’s more than Izuku can handle, so he rejects the job and tries to walk away.
And Izuku learns, very quickly, that he can’t. He finds himself rereading the few messages he’s received from Katsuki throughout the years and realizes he’ll still come running whenever Katsuki calls.
The goal Izuku decided upon that day, crouched in the darkness of his basement, still hasn’t changed.
He’s going to be the one who keeps Katsuki safe. He will be Katsuki’s hero.
He calls UA back and accepts the job.
*
Katsuki sees Kionus in the distance. He’s just double-checked his coordinates when his Battlecruiser’s alarm goes off, warning him that aliens are surrounding him from all sides
His fingers tighten around the steering yoke, knuckles turning white, fingers hovering over his shooter buttons. He looks around frantically. Forty-five of the fifty Battlecruisers that have been deployed to Kionus have been destroyed, it’s a miracle that Katsuki’s own ship has managed to avoid alien detection. He can see the debris of broken Battlecruisers floating around him.
Katsuki steers straight towards the hoard of aliens, ready to join the fight and stop the annihilation of humanity. This is what he trained for, this is what he was born to do.
He has no idea how long the fight lasts, he has no concept of time anymore. The only thing he remembers is seeing the last of the aliens aiming their weapons at his ship. He uses the last of the ammo in his blasters, sending a giant explosion raining down on the group of aliens, destroying the steering mechanism in his own Battlecruiser in the process.
Is he a hero yet?
Katsuki closes his eyes and lets himself drift off into space, stranded.
“Hey, shitty Deku. I did it, I got to Kionus and defeated the alien group there. Are you proud of me, Deku? Guess I won’t be able to get back to Earth, that’s a real fuckin’ shame, huh?”
He looks out the window as he floats aimlessly.
“I want to feel the grass again, feel the blades beneath my feet. I want to go on ice cream dates with you again and argue about who gets to pay. I want to lie in bed with you again and read shitty comics together. Deku, who is now twenty-six years old, I am the eighteen-year-old Bakugou Katsuki, the one who left you that day. And I never told you this, but I really fuckin’ love you.”
*
Katsuki floats through the cosmos in his damaged Battlecruiser, unaware of how many years he's been drifting aimlessly after the battle on Kionus. He’s had plenty of time to think — think about Izuku.
In the end, Izuku had a choice: He could have begged Katsuki to stay on Earth, used that extra time to build their relationship into something more. He could’ve held Katsuki close until resentment made them fall apart into pieces too small to be mended. Or, he could let Katsuki go, because he knew being a hero was everything Katsuki ever wanted and more.
He could have been selfish, but Izuku chose to let Katsuki go, cutting their time together short, for better or for worse, to let Katsuki do what he loved. Izuku had been brave enough to break his own heart so Katsuki could follow his dreams.
And that, Katsuki thinks, is the greatest act of love there is.
*
You’re the shine that never blinks, the shine that never dies.
Izuku had promised that he’d be Katsuki’s hero, and he always had every intention of keeping that promise, even when it felt like it was impossible to keep.
Katsuki opens his eyes. He sees a Battlecruiser coming towards him.
Suddenly, his screen lights up in front of him, blinking, indicating he has a new message.
From: Midoriya Izuku
Wait for me. I’ll be there.
Katsuki looks back at the Battlecruiser propelling towards him and smiles. His moon has found its way back to its original orbit.
In his own Battlecruiser, Izuku smiles back.
“Kacchan, I am here.”