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Back when life was All Might onesies and make believe; Katsuki feared nothing. People instead feared him. They feared his potential, having a powerful quirk.
Jumping up and down after unwrapping a limited edition All Might card with the nerd. The metallic gold shimmering rainbow in the blazing Summer sun.
Playing make believe hero with the damsel in distress was the most popular game to play as an aspiring hero.
Izuku was always the damsel in distress that Katsuki was destined to save. Weak Izuku needed saving, he couldn’t walk down the street without stumbling over his own feet.
Falling off a log into the calm stream, and then a small chubby hand reaching down from the hell disguised as heaven to help him.
Was he weak?
No of course not! He was Katsuki Bakugou with the all powerful explosion quirk and the ambition to be a hero.
Is that what Deku thought too?
Deku thought he was weak. He truly assumed that Katsuki couldn’t pick himself up from the fall. Stupid, stupid Deku.
Katsuki pushed him away. This was the start of a new habit; refusing the help of others when it’s most needed, because he thought he was above that.
“Are you okay, Kacchan?” Would haunt him for years.
So Katsuki avoided him at all costs. He was searching for an answer he already knew deep down. Eventually, Katsuki had his own band of people to follow him around and do as he asked because of their shared fear of him. They would join him in the taunting of Deku. The Deku with no quirk. But all the heart of a hero. Katsuki would never forget the day his fourteen year old self spoke those nineteen words to him.
He didn’t want Deku to die, he never did. The thought of death never crossed his mind. That was until that inescapable parasite would latch onto him and everyone he knew.
Death was on his tail for years. When the LOV kidnapped Katsuki, he started to realize how close one is to death’s door without even knowing.
Izuku wasn’t allowed to open the door though. Katsuki was going to make sure of that. He’d rather be turned into a limp puppet at the hands of Shigaraki than let Izuku’s story end so quickly.
My body just moved on its own.
That was his explanation for the phenomenon. Absolutely no thinking cogs were turning in his brain, he just knew what he had to do.
Then Izuku left him.
Did Katsuki mess up? Limping through the bright hospital hallways longing for the hand he once rejected oh so long ago. He knew Izuku was in that room, but he was gone before Katsuki could even see him. All Izuku left behind was a lousy note outside Katsuki’s door. Clear tear stains stiffening the notebook paper that must’ve come from one of his hundreds of notebooks. Katsuki could smell the minty soap of Izuku’s hair on that letter, mixed in with the scribbled out words and hectic writing.
He wasn’t going to read it. No. Reading the letter was accepting that Izuku had left. Left him. His pride was still too high to allow that thought to cross his mind.
But Katsuki Bakugou never gives up.
He insisted on searching for the nerd. The search would have to go on until he could listen to pencil tapping behind him and distant muttering as he scribbled notes. Katsuki longed for the normal he once pushed away.
Katsuki hated the rain. He hated it so much. Which is why he wanted to speak his truth under the gray clouds. Letting go of his childish resentment under the thing he hated most solidified his feelings. Katsuki caught the limp and dirty boy in his arms. Tears mixed with rainfall as Izuku collapsed. The Sun was crying.
They never talked about the apology in time either.
If Katsuki could steal back one minute from Death he would. Time is the most valuable possession despite it being an inanimate object. Izuku and Katsuki were split up. Circumstance divided them, which was fine. Until it wasn’t. Katsuki knew that Izuku had the capabilities of defeating Shigaraki and All For One in any way possible, and Katsuki couldn’t. He would indefinitely fail. Accepting his predetermined defeat was the first step in letting himself open his heart to the cold embrace of his grave.
He was berated and humiliated. ‘Shigaraki’ beat his soul down to the bone. Destroying his humility in the process. His right arm was practically decayed. Katsuki’s body was stretched beyond its limits. He could feel his bones crushing in on themselves and threatening to break through the skin. Muscles were letting go of each other and tearing with every inch he moved.
Katsuki could feel the old scars start to ache. The blood cells holding tight and tender skin were losing their grip. He was reopening old wounds.
Swan dive.
He grunted, letting the thought escape his mind. Bile was rising up in his throat, his stomach was probably ruptured, he didn’t know. Blood was collecting in his mouth and he spit it out onto the ground. Taking the shape of a Spider Lily.
He flew through the air, tumbling down into the ground. The impact increased his nausea. Dirt and soot attached to his glistening sweat born from his terror. Crouched down for a moment, he realized what he had to do. He thought of Izuku and the others, what his sacrifice would do for the future of the world.
Katsuki clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. His inner monologue both fighting and encouraging his decision. Alas, he relaxed his face and opened his eyes.
Storm clouds were rumbling above. Since when did they seem so close? Almost like he was the first bolt of lightning that struck down.
Pressing his good hand into the grass, he pushed his body up. He stumbled a bit as he tried to stabilize himself.
His body ached.
A black eye was blooming on his face. The blues and yellows and purples making a galaxy of stars. Taking a breath, he blasted himself into the sky. Dodging all the coordinated attacks coming his way and directing his own back at the source. He was a butterfly, fragile but fierce. If his wings didn’t have so many tears, maybe he’d be stronger.
He focused his deteriorated body into harvesting the explosions. Katsuki turned into a human torpedo, driving forward with a finish line in sight.
His temperature was increasing and more sweat droplets were collecting. He could feel his explosions concentrating all over his body instead of his hands alone.
The rain was pouring down heavily now. The Sun was still fighting its way through the cracks in the clouds, highlighting Katsuki’s face. The boy was glistening, stars surrounding him.
“Can I still reach you.. Izuku?” He choked out as his voice cracked. Using all the air in his lungs to ask that even though the boy wasn’t there to answer.
I’m so sorry, for everything. I’m sorry I won’t be able to see you reach your dream, Izuku. Thank you for everything.
He smiled softly to himself. He knows that Izuku is going to be angry with him, he’ll get over it though.
Katsuki closed his eyes as he felt his sweat materialize into explosions as bright as the Sun’s solar flares. His heart was aching. He knew he did some real damage to Shigaraki. But he made a mistake, he left an opening.
A spike drove into his body, puncturing his lung and heart in the process. The heart squelched as it was interrupted in keeping Katsuki alive. His eyes widened and he choked on his attempted breath.
His body crashed down onto the ground below. Katsuki’s ears were ringing and his vision went blotchy. He could make out the sky above him and gazed towards the painted clouds. He thinks he’s going into shock, he doesn’t know. His body is involuntarily shaking and his mouth is foaming with blood. The blood drips down the side of his face and lands in the grass below. It seeped into each individual blade and into the soil, staining the perfect green.
Katsuki knew he wasn’t going to make it, but he wasn’t sad about it, not happy either. It’s a similar feeling to finding out the truth you were avoiding that chased you your whole life.
He heard muffled yelling and screaming outside of his little bubble. He didn’t care. His blinks got slower, and slower. Less controlled.
Hey kid.
Katsuki recognized that voice. The voice of the man he put an end to; All Might.
I’ll let you go after this. I know you’re in pain, you want to be free. I think everyone wants to be free from this hell. I’m so proud of you and your growth, Young Bakugou. Absolutely inspiring. Young Midoriya would be happy for you too, he is. I can feel it. I know it hasn’t crossed your mind since it’s fixating on your pain, but you’d be wondering how I’m speaking to you. I’m a vestige in the minds of users of One For All. Izuku passed it onto you, but you lost your memory of it. He gave up his dream for the sake of saving everyone. You too are a lot of like. And I admire that.
Izuku’s on his way. He will come for you, Young Bakugou. I can’t prevent you passing before he makes it, though. I wish I could. I don’t want you in pain anymore.
You’re the greatest most selfless hero I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. You did great, Katsuki.
If Katsuki had the strength to talk, he’d say a thousand words.
He wanted to ask for All Might to sign the card laying limp across his broken fingers. That was his other dream. At least he achieved one, right?
He could feel the life leaving his body.
First his hearing went. He could feel the breeze on his face and it weaving through his tangled hair. The bloody grass below was tickling his neck and dancing for miles.
Second went his sight. The concept of seeing absolutely nothing is scary and impossible for the human mind to imagine. Katsuki didn’t have to imagine anymore, he was experiencing it. Tears were ricocheting down his face from his failed eyes.
Third, his sense of smell. The smoke left his nose from both his explosions and the destruction around his body. He was going to miss the smell after it rained, when everything wrong with life went away. He wouldn’t have that anymore.
Fourth, taste. His dry mouth was no longer bothering him, nor the metallic taste of blood lingering on his lips. He parted his lips after forcing them shut for so long. His face relaxed because the taste of failure left. All he felt was victory.
Until he didn’t. Now it was like he was floating. Katsuki couldn't feel the soaked ground below him.
The rain stopped, but he didn’t know.
Then, the Sun arrived, too late. It was like seeing a ghost of yourself, what Izuku saw. The limp body of the boy he cherished his whole life was on display like an art piece in the clearing clouds.
He couldn’t move. He felt like he died too. A piece of Izuku did go with Katsuki that day, a very big piece.
Izuku saw the familiar rainbow and gold reflecting off the tiny piece of cardboard in those black and orange gloves. He stumbled over to the boy and fell to his knees.
Scooping Katsuki's head into his lap and embracing it. He carded his fingers through the bloodied hair and gazed down at the blonde. He smiled a bit, let out a breath of air he was holding in to give to Katsuki. Izuku used his thumbs to close Katsuki’s crimson eyes. Letting the flames die out.
Izuku wasn’t crying. He couldn’t. It was probably shock, that’s what his mom said.
Nobody could separate the two boys from each other. Maybe, just maybe, if Izuku tried hard enough, he could give a piece of his life over to Katsuki through his touch.
He was still caressing Katsuki’s hair and face, not accepting that it was the first and last time he got to do this.
Anger hit Izuku like a truck. His eyes flaming with the love buried deep inside One For All. Everything after that was a blur, Izuku couldn’t recall what he did. He heard murmurs when he walked past people. Whisperings of how horrific and terrifying All For One’s death was, at the hand of Izuku.
Izuku never thought he could kill a man. Apparently he didn’t know himself well at all.
Sometimes, when Izuku is alone in his room, he can see the shadows of him and Katsuki dancing through one of their sparring sessions.
The months started to pass. Izuku didn’t attend the funeral, he couldn’t leave the small confines of the shared hallway he had with Katsuki. Snow began to fall, Katsuki would’ve hated it.
The cold doesn’t go well with his quirk, he never did well with the cold, even before he had his quirk.
Izuku visited Katsuki’s room a lot, nobody else had gone inside except for Mitsuki and Masaru. He could see the footsteps on the carpet Katsuki left behind after sleepless nights of pacing.
Probably when Izuku left.
That’s when he broke. Izuku cried often, but not like this. He was choking on his spit as tears would run down his face and neck, dry, and get wet from the next set. He was on the ground, gripping the black shirt with a skull Katsuki always wore, his favorite shirt that Izuku gifted to him on his 12th birthday, and every year after that. Izuku buried his face in the shirt, breathing in the strong smell of Katsuki’s cologne he liked the wear, and the raw smell of stale explosions.
He slept in Katsuki’s bed almost every night after that, hoping that maybe he’d wake up next to Katsuki. No one came to bother him because he wouldn’t speak. He refused to, he turned down a speech at the funeral too.
Eventually, he did visit the grave. It was the only filled one on the plot reserved for the Bakugous.
Katsuki Bakugou
A son, a hero, a friend
We love you
Dying flowers covered in snow were resting against the stone. Izuku kneeled down next to it and rested his cheek on the stone.
Izuku came by almost everyday after that. Talking to Katsuki like he was there, he could almost hear the snarky retorts and berating laughter every time Izuku told him something he would find amusing.
And sometimes, he could feel Katsuki’s response. The wind would pick up and breeze through Izuku’s hair, messing it up.
Two years later, Izuku brought his card, signed.
“Hey Kacchan, I know how bad you wanted this.. and well, yours wasn’t in the best condition. So I snagged this before All Might’s health gave out.”
Izuku laid down the pristine card with a signature on it.
“He passed away a few weeks ago. We were all expecting it. I’ll miss him. I’m glad he’s with you now.” Izuku sighed and pulled out his notebook, continuing to write the biography of Katsuki Bakugou.