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In a single dormitory, made cozy by the affection and warmth its occupants had for one another, there was one presence acutely missed.
It was Izuku’s third night back at UA after a lengthy recovery period in hospital. Whilst homes, hospitals and schools had been on the priority list for the rebuilding efforts, UA was still very much a work in progress. Classes wouldn’t be returning regularly for another couple of weeks at best, but with Class A itching to be reunited and to get back to something resembling normality, it had been agreed to open the campus and allow students to return early. The result was that Class 2A was spending almost all of their time together; laughing, cooking, playing card games and learning to heal from their shared traumas together, with one notable exception.
It wasn’t that Kacchan hadn’t been seen during the last three days; he’d come down from his room to eat like everyone else, stumbling only the smallest amount as he learned to use his left arm for everything whilst his dominant remained in the same sling that would be supporting it for the foreseeable future. But, he was distant in a way that not even Shouto and Ochako had been, disconnected and out of sync, and seemingly so caught up in his head that he often failed to acknowledge those around him. And, it wasn’t as if he was doing so out of arrogance; that, at least, would have been comforting to Izuku and the rest of those who knew Kacchan. That might have shown that there was something of the old Kacchan still in there. Instead, Kacchan would eat, and then he would disappear up to his room, lost in thought and occasionally muttering in a way that Izuku found deeply unnerving.
But, Izuku knew better than to push Kacchan. They had all been through a lot, seen things and experienced things that would stay with them for the rest of their lives. They had all lost something in this war, and they each had their way of dealing with that loss. If time and space were what Kacchan needed, then that’s all that Izuku and the rest could offer him.
It didn’t mean that Izuku couldn’t help but wish he could offer more. He tossed and turned each night thinking about the last time that he and Kacchan had said more than a handful of words to each other, and how those words had been choked out between sobs. Because, isn’t that how it had always been? Were either of them capable of saying how they really felt without at least one heart breaking in the process?
Izuku couldn’t say he had ever been a fan of loud mysterious thuds in the middle of the night, but since his experiences during the war, he felt the near heart attack he had in the early hours of the morning was entirely justified. His arms swung about wildly as he threw his blankets back and sat upright, staring wide-eyed in the direction of his door. He watched his doorknob turn, another thud, and was all but ready to power up what little remained of One for All before he heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door, cursing and perplexed.
“ Kacchan?”
Izuku glanced at the clock beside his bed, where 3:05 AM was glowing in green, and he hurried to his feet to reach the door, twisting the deadbolt and pulling it open. Kacchan stood in the hallway, brow furrowed and decidedly irritated.
“The hell, when did you start locking your door?”
Izuku wanted to say that Kacchan had never once visited his dorm room in the time that he had lived there, so how could he know whether or not Izuku locked his door at night? But before he had a chance to speak Kacchan was pushing past him, tutting and turning on the light, leaving a squinting and dumbfounded Izuku standing by his open doorway.
“What’re you doing going to bed so early?” Kacchan asked. Izuku blinked, looking back out into the hallway as if expecting there to be some sort of explanation etched into the walls, before finally shutting his door.
“Kacchan, it’s three in the morning.”
Kacchan only then seemed to take stock of his surroundings, looking around the room before spotting the alarm clock.
“Oh. Whatever. I figured it out.”
Kacchan raised his good arm, holding a scuffed-looking notebook in his hand that he dropped on Izuku’s desk with a flourish of satisfaction.
“Uh, figured what out?”
Kacchan huffed, rolling his eyes in irritation. “Your quirk, dumbass. The hell else could I be talking about? You don’t need it. Look.”
He gestured to the notebook on Izuku’s desk, who looked down at it in confusion. There was nothing written across the front, just a blank green cover with the title area left empty, but he could tell from the way the corners were bent up that it had been well used. For a moment, Izuku was almost afraid to touch it; Kacchan had never shared his notes with him before, something about not wanting to give Izuku an edge over him, and that Izuku should be making his own shitty notes , and even when given express permission it felt wrong. Instead, he looked back up at Kacchan, feeling as though he was looking at him for the first time in weeks. He was dressed in his usual casual attire, baggy joggers and a loose-fitting black t-shirt, complete now with an orange sling and a fresh new pair of bags beneath Kacchan’s vibrant eyes. The scar on his cheek was still as fresh as Izuku’s, skin pink and angry looking.
“I don’t understand,” Izuku admitted.
Kacchan blinked, a strange look passing over his face before he snatched up the notebook and held it out between them.
“What’s not to understand? I told you, I figured it all out. You don’t need that shitty quirk.”
Izuku’s stomach jolted, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “It wasn’t shitty,” he said, half-whispered, that familiar feeling of regret and longing that he experienced whenever he thought about One for All and the lost vestiges washing over him. He hadn’t been lying when he told All Might and Kacchan that he couldn’t feel too upset about passing the quirk to Tenko, it had been the right thing to do and he was fortunate to have experienced that power, even for so limited a time. But, that didn’t mean that he didn’t miss it; miss the comfort it brought, the connection it gave him to All Might, the dream it allowed him to live. Kacchan, for what it was worth, had the grace to not argue with him and even looked apologetic for a moment before he waved the notebook once more.
“Are you gonna take it or not?”
After another moment of hesitation, Izuku reached out, using both hands to handle the notebook with care, almost reverence, before brushing a crooked thumb over the cover.
“I ain’t had a chance to talk to the support department yet,” Kacchan said. “But I figure, All Might held his own, you know? Probably already seen the video being the nerd you are, but if he could have given all that against All for One without a quirk, then so can you.”
Izuku gasped, eyes darting up from the notebook to Kacchan once more. He had already turned away, openly scrutinising the row of All Might figures on the chest of drawers, finger reaching out and wiping a trail of dust from the woodwork, shaking his head and tutting.
“Would it kill you to dust every once in a while?”
Izuku exhaled, the sound leaving his throat bordering on a laugh before he gave the notebook in his hands all his anxious attention. Slowly, carefully, he flipped back the cover, eyes widening when he saw the sketchy drawing of himself in his most recent hero costume on the page, ‘IZUKU’ written along the top. He could tell from the light marks left on the page that he had originally been drawn differently, but at some point, Kacchan must have erased part of his hair and most of the freckles on his right cheek, sketching in the scar.
It took all of his self-control not to look up at Kacchan again, convinced that the moment he did he would either break out into tears or his face would burn bright red, and he turned to the next page. It was full of notes, detailing each of the previous Holder's quirks, their main attributes, and the benefits that each ability served. The characters were shaky, scratchy, obviously written with Kacchan’s left hand, but still perfectly legible, proving yet again that there was nothing that Kacchan couldn’t adapt to. He continued to flick through the pages, more sketches appearing, more notes, suggestions of what kind of support gear Izuku could use to be able to recreate or replicate the quirks he had lost.
It was only once he had read through all fifty pages that he realised that the two of them had been standing in complete silence for several minutes. He finally looked up, and Kacchan was still by the chest of drawers.
“So?” he asked, and Izuku was taken aback by how uncertain Kacchan looked, anxiously searching his face, his good hand picking at the fabric of his sling.
“I-” Izuku closed the notebook, holding it to his chest. “How long did this take you?”
Kacchan’s face twisted up in confusion. “Why’re you asking that? A few weeks, whatever, started working on it in the hospital.”
Izuku took a shakey breath and blinked rapidly. He could do this. They could have a conversation without one of them crying, couldn’t they?
“You.... Kacchan, you didn’t have to do this.”
Izuku hadn’t even finished the sentence before he realised that this had been the wrong thing to say. He watched as Kacchan’s eager, if not somewhat anxious expression fell, a dullness returning to his eyes like that which he had worn for the last few days.
“Not- not that I don’t appreciate it!” Izuku said, hurriedly. “It’s amazing! You put so much thought into it! And I didn’t know Kacchan was an artist!”
“You hate it.”
Kacchan’s tone was flat, his shoulder inching up to the level of his ears as he averted his gaze, and Izuku began to panic.
“No! No, that’s not it all it’s just… Kacchan, you didn’t have to do all of this for me. I- I know that you’ve been trying, and I appreciate it. Of course, I do! But… Kacchan said he was sorry, and I believe him. You don’t… you don’t have anything to prove to me.”
Kacchan stiffened, and to Izuku’s relief, an indignant blush replaced the closed-off look that had begun to take over his face.
“Did you actually listen to a damn word I said in the hospital?”
“Of course I did.”
“Really, because it sure as shit don’t sound like you did. This ain’t me trying to make stuff up to you, I ain’t doing this because I feel obligated or whatever.”
“So… what-”
“You keep talking like your dream’s already over,” Kacchan interrupted. “Like… like, without One for All, you can’t be a hero anymore.”
“Kacchan,” Izuku breathed. “You said that, not me.”
“Hah? No, I said-” Kacchan bristled, and his breath hitched. “I didn’t- fuck. Damnit, I didn’t mean it like- gah! ” A sad and frustrated sound broke from his lips and in a heartbeat he had turned his back, staring up at the ceiling as though he, too, was willing himself not to cry again. Izuku stood, uncertain, pressing the notebook in his hands closer to his chest, waiting for Kacchan’s breathing to steady before he turned back around again. His jaw was tense, his eyes red-rimmed, but he stood straight, eyes defiant.
“You said having All for One gave you a glimpse of an amazing dream,” he continued. “And maybe… maybe once I believed it, that without a quirk there was no chance you could be a hero. But I don’t anymore. And, neither should you.”
“Kacchan-”
“Let me finish,” Kacchan rushed. “Just…” He took a deep breath. “You got into UA and you barely used it. You beat me in the first task at the Sports Festival and didn’t use it at all. You did all that shit, just you. And I know I’m being-” He shut his eyes, wavering for a moment, before pushing on. “I know I’m being selfish. I want… I want us… Fuck, I want us to do this together. Being heroes. And I thought maybe if I could show you that it was still possible, that with support gear and- and me as your partner… maybe you’d want it too.”
Izuku swallowed, his eyes stinging as he tried to hold back the tears for as long as he could.
“But,” Kacchan continued, “I guess, I’m realising now that it’s not just about that. I always thought it was our dream from when we were kids, but I pushed you away for so long that I never really stopped to think about whether it still was.”
“ Kacchan .”
“I know, just… Forget the stupid notebook. Forget quirks. Forget me and forget All Might. I am being selfish, I’m trying t’convince you of something you might not even want, and this whole time that’s all anyone’s ever done, right?”
“No, I-” Izuku paused, unsure of what to say. Of course, he wanted to be a hero, it was all he had ever wanted. He hadn’t hesitated to accept All Might’s offer, to carry One for All and walk towards the destiny that came with it. But, that was over now. Eventually, the last ember of One for All would fade, and whilst Izuku was determined to make the most of what was left, to help create a better future, there would be a time, maybe soon, when that power would be gone. And, what did he want after that? Without obligation, without prophecy, without a plan , what did he want?
Not wanting to place the cherished item down, Izuku kept the notebook held to his chest as he walked to his bed, hesitating only a moment before reaching beneath his pillow. He had kept it with him, anywhere that he slept, even when he had been alone on the streets tracking down All for One, for most of his life, and when he pulled the card free he heard the sharp intake of Kacchan’s breath.
“I never let go of it,” Izuku said. “This or the dream. Even if I had never met All Might, I would have tried to get into UA anyway.” He laughed nervously. “I wouldn’t have got in, but… I would have tried, you know?”
“You always were a damned nerd,” Kacchan said. “I still thought you were quirkless, by the way. When you got into UA. Figured if anyone could’a managed to get into UA without a quirk it’d be you.”
Izuku looked up, flashing Kacchan a small smile. Kacchan remained patiently looking back at him, and Izuku knew that finally he would be there, willing and accepting of anything that Izuku had to say.
“I can’t begin to explain what this means to me, Kacchan,” he said, holding up the notebook. “That you would do this for me when you should have been recovering I-” his voice stuttered, and he knew then that he had lost his battle as the tears began to flow. “Thank you.”
“You’re making way too big a deal outta that,” Kacchan grumbled, but the pink on his cheeks said enough. “If you decide to use it, I mean if you wanted to, Aizawa said he’d be happy to teach you how to use his capture gear, I wrote down some ways you could adapt it so that it could replicate black whip.”
Izuku laughed, sniffing and wiping the tears from his eyes. “That sounds pretty great, honestly.”
“Yeh?” Izuku watched as Kacchan’s eyes seemed to glitter, his face lighting up with hope once more.
“Yeh. And I… I want it too. Us, I mean. Being heroes together, chasing one another.”
“Yeh?” Kacchan repeated, voice trembling.
“Yeh. Whatever happens, I want to be there. You’re already an amazing hero, Kacchan. I don’t want to miss a thing.”
“Fanboy,” Kacchan croaked, wiping his eyes. “Whatever. You gave up your quirk to be a hero, ain’t anything more amazing than that.”
“What about your arm?”
“Hah? Ain’t nothing. You have to wear that stupid haircut til your hair grows back, that’s a pretty big sacrifice.”
“Didn’t your heart stop?”
“For a few minutes. Get real, Izuku. My heart’s beating and my arm’s still attached. The biggest loss of this whole damn thing is those three freckles on your cheek.”
Izuku raised the hand still holding his All Might card to his cheek, already feeling the blush beginning to bloom as he watched Kacchan track the movement.
“Hey, gimme that a moment.”
“My card?”
Kacchan grunted in affirmation, holding his hand out. Curious, Izuku passed it to him, watching him slot the card between the curled-up fingers of his right hand before reaching into his pocket.
Izuku should have expected the way of agony that came from seeing Kacchan’s card again. He had no idea that the boy had kept hold of it, after all this time, and seeing it again covered in blood and lying beside Kacchan’s broken body had been just about the worst moment of Izuku’s life. His breath caught in his throat and his heart started to pound as Kacchan looked down at it, turning it between his fingers. He hummed to himself, before handing it out to Izuku.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a promise,” Kacchan replied. “You and me. Whatever you decide, I’ll be there. For the rest of our lives.”
Izuku couldn’t have held back the sob if he wanted to, tears spilling down his cheeks as he took the blood-stained card and held it beside the notebook. He didn’t know what was coming next, what else the world held in store for them. But right now, all that mattered, was one certainty.
“You and me,” he said, smiling. “For the rest of our lives.”