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Bakugou Katsuki had more regrets than he knew what to do with, especially when it came to Midoriya Izuku. His words tended to haunt him like a ghost over his shoulders. In the end he knew Izuku had long forgiven him whether or not he should’ve.
But who was he to pity himself after everything he’d done?
Maybe at one point there had been a way to get back to the way things had been, but that chance was long gone.
Oftentimes, in his new adult life, he found himself longing for that same sense of home he had as a kid, trading Hero cards with Izuku on the floor of his parents living room.
There was no way home anymore.
—
He was sure he was dying before Kirishima found him.
“Dynamight! Oh thank God you’re still alive,” Kirishima said, moving to kneel in front of him, “It’s a warzone out there man, shit it’s awful.”
“I know.” He grunted, taking a mental note of his injuries. Blunt force to the head and gut, large puncture wound to the left side of his torso, blood loss, internal bleeding, busted ankle- Kirishima assessed as well.
“Alright, we’ve got to get you out of here okay?”
“No wait-”
“Think you can stand?”
“Think so, ShittyHair wait-”
“Let’s get you up.” He said, pulling Katsuki’s arm over his shoulder and hauling him to his feet. He groaned at the sudden movement, ears ringing. The building around them was on fire like the rest of the city. Rubble littered around them.
“Easy now,” He braced Katsukis weight, holding him up. “The buildings gonna go, we have to get out of here now.”
“No,” Kirishima took a step towards the exit as Katsuki jerked away from him. “Just fucking wait!”
“Bakugou we have to-”
“Deku’s still alive in there!” He yelled over the crackling fire.
He stopped, taking in a shallow breath. Thinking. “We…Bakugo if we go back we’re both…we’re both dead. If we don’t get you to Recovery Girl right now you’re dead.” Kirishima’s face contorted, voice betraying him as it cracked. “God, Katsuki, we can't go back.”
“ You can’t go back.” Kirishima paused for a moment, looking back at Bakugou with an unreasonable expression, and Katsuki felt his expression soften.
“What are you saying?”
He pushed himself off Kirishima’s shoulder, bracing on the wall and staggering to his own two feet. Pain shot through his gut and he winced, but undeterred he stood, nearly doubled over. “Deku doesn’t get to die alone.”
He paused for a second, “Alright,” he settled, “Lead the way-”
“No,” he said, feeling warm blood trickle down his leg.
For a moment it was quiet.
“I can’t just-”
“We don’t have time to argue. You can. And you’re going to.”
“No I-”
“Please, Eijiro. Please,”
“No Katsuki, please no-”
“It’s…it’s fucking okay,” the floor rumbled underneath of them, “Go. Just fucking go! They’re going to need you, just go!”
“Alright,” He cried out like a little kid. And Katusuki realized he was crying.
“Give ‘em hell riot.”
“I’ll see you later.”
He didn’t wait for Kirishima to leave, instead turning, and starting to run back towards the center of the building where he knew Izuku Midoriya lay trapped and bleeding out.
So he stumbled his way through the smoke, feeling the weight of his wounds settle on him. Sharp pain shot through his side as with every bounding step, yet the pain was second to the words rattling in his skull,
Don’t let him die alone.
The corridor walls seemed to close in with every heaving breath he took. He tripped, landing hard on his wounded side. The air left his lungs. His vision blurred as pain exploded through his torso, each cough sending spasming agony. And for a moment there's a small voice in the back of his head telling him to lie still and close his eyes, let the pain fade with his consciousness.
But Izuku needed him.
Get up, Get up!
He takes a breath and pushes himself up, leaning on the wall.
Don’t let him die alone.
His head spun with every step, lungs burning with ashes and smoke and dust.
As he hobbled his mind raced sluggishly, floating through every awful memory. Every horrible thing he’d said and done. The weight of his words settled in his gut, pulling him down as he stumbled.
It amazed him how the nerd was so willing to forgive him. Looking back at his middle school years it was impossible not to despise the child he’d been. Arrogant, selfish, and cruel.
There was always a part of him that wondered how Izuku turned out okay. The picture of Izuku following through with the dumb things he said burned on his mind.
He always wondered how Izuku survived him.
Don’t fucking let him die alone.
He rounded the corner to see him through the smoke. His legs were crushed by a piece of rubble, head slumped against his chest.
Just don’t let him die alone.
“Izuku!” His head perked up at the call as Katsuki faltered towards him.
“God no,” he whined between haggard breaths as Katsuki landed on his knees next to him, “Kachann no, please just go-”
“No, Izuku listen-”
“No!” he cried, “Please just go! Th-the buildings gonna come down please-”
“It’s alright.”
“No it’s-” he coughed, blood spraying from his mouth. “I can’t-”
“Izuku, it’s okay. I know what I’m doing.”
He sobbed, “I don’t want you to die for me!”
“I’m dead anyways nerd. It’s okay” Through the smoke he could see Izuku’s face glistening with sweat and blood. At this moment the man in front of him looked the same as he did in their first year of highschool, young and scared. His gauntlets long gone, he took the wrist of his sleeve and wiped the blood from Izuku’s mouth.
“Listen,” he said, “I can’t go back and undo all the fucked up sit I did to you, Izuku. I can’t fix it. There's no way to go back to the way it was before. But I’m here now, so that’s gotta count for something right? You don’t get to die alone.”
He sobbed, leaning his head into Katsuki’s hand, “Did everyone get out?”
“Everyone else got out. They’re all going to be okay.”
“I…okay. Okay.”
“You did amazing nerd. AllMight would be really fucking proud.” He said to deaf ears.
“We’re actually going to die. We didn’t even make it a year as pros, and now we’re going to die.”
“We are,” he said, “And we are fucking amazing heroes.”
“Kachann-”
“No, we are fucking amazing heroes. You don’t get to die thinking bad about yourself, say it, you are a fucking amazing hero.”
A hint of a sad smile showed on his lips, “I…I am a fucking amazing hero.”
He smirked, “Damn straight you are.”
“He’d be proud of you too.”
“Yeah,” he said, “But I think Eraser might just resurrect us so he can kill us himself.”
Izuku laughed, only to choke on the blood leaking in his lungs. Reality settled in. They were both going to die, slow and painful. In all his years dreaming of heroics he understood the risks of the job, heroes were injured all the time. Heroes died. The notion of going out in a blaze of glory always sat on his younger mind. He thought there would be a beauty to the blast.
But there was nothing glorious about this.
“Kachann are you scared?” He mumbled through labored breathing, words beginning to slur with effort.
“Yeah.”
“I want to go home.”
“Me too.”
They sat hunched over the piece of rubble pinning Japans top pro hero, together. And Katsuki watched as Izuku’s eyelids slid shut, and listened as his lungs began to rattle with blood and fluid. And he feels as his consciousness starts to drain.
And he whispered, “Good night Izuku.”
The building began to fall around him, and if only for a moment he’s four again, down in the creek. His clothes are wet and knees scraped. And the sun is bright and the leaves on the tree are so unabashedly green it almost hurts his eyes. And the water’s cool against the sun’s heat and it’s calm. For only a moment it’s calm. And Izuku’s there, with his outstretched hand and he’s asking if he’s okay, like he always would. Like Izuku.
And Izuku is there. A look of childish concern on his face. And he’s asking “Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?”
And the water stings as it rushes against his scrapes but the pain means nothing because Katuski is there this time.
And this time he takes his hand.
Tomorrow, in the early hours of the morning, when the dust has settled and the rubble cleared away what remains of their bodies will be found. The last words of the top two pro heroes will remain unknown to their friends and family.
But it didn’t matter anymore.
So for this moment he’ll listen to the lullaby of crackling fire and pretend it's the fireplace in his parents living room.
And he’ll rest.