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It was a typical afternoon nearing two o’clock in the recovery ward. Light was pouring in through the partially open blinds, and Katsuki lay in bed counting the horizontal shadows cast across the speckled tiles.
As usual, his parents had left from their daily lunchtime visit at his insistence, noting that he can barely breathe if they didn’t give him more space. The last thing they wanted was to have Katsuki’s heart rate unnecessarily elevated in fits of rage. Within a few days of his prolonged hospital stay, they stopped attempting to outlast beyond their welcome. Despite begrudgingly leaving before the two o’clock sounding alarm, his parents were relieved that the confines of the hospital provided monitored bed rest, ensuring he could not over exert himself.
Two o’clock was when All Might was typically at rehab, and Katsuki would take the opportunity to visit Izuku. He insisted it was to make sure he wasn’t lonely all on his own, though he knew full well that Izuku would manage just fine with an hour of solitude. In truth, it was nice to be alone with Izuku. They hadn’t spent much time one-on-one outside of training, and the dorms were always so chaotic, no one ever had a moment of privacy.
Katsuki had stopped counting the days since they were first admitted to the hospital. Each day seemed to blur into the next. The rest of their classmates were discharged at this point. Yet, the precarious nature of both of their injuries, and the extensive rehab required, made it wise to stay put.
Katsuki had become inured to the routine of his day, which had him sleeping even more than Aizawa during the first week of a new school year. Still, every day, two o’clock seemed like it wouldn’t arrive soon enough.
It was finally two, and he lifted himself from the stiff bed, planning which All Might special they hadn’t watched recently. If I have to watch that fucking special on the Vinegar Suicide Incident again… he thought to himself. He stopped short, not even able to fool himself. He’d watch it a thousand times if it made Izuku smile.
He rounded the corridor to open the familiar door. Upon entering, he was greeted with an unusual scene. Izuku was sitting in his bed with a haphazard cascade of green yarn, holding a pair of knitting needles with an expression of deep concentration.
“Deku?” Katsuki called, as he shut the door behind him, perplexed by Izuku’s unexpected activity.
“Oh…uh…Kacchan!” Izuku replied, dropping his work to a pile on his lap with surprised expression. “Wait, it’s after two? I was so engrossed, I don’t think I even noticed All Might leave!”
“Yeah, nerd,” Katsuki replied, taking a seat at the end of his bed. “What’s all this?” he said gesturing to the yarn.
“Eri has been teaching me to knit! Or reminding me, I guess. My Auntie, you know the one with the mean dog, she taught me when I was ten. But I only ever made some dishcloths.” Izuku grabbed a green scarf on the side of the table. “Look at what Eri made for me!”
Katsuki received the scarf from Izuku to inspect. It had a few holes and the edges were not particularly tidy, expanding and contracting in an irregular width. Still, for a seven-year-old, even Katsuki was impressed. He handed it back to Izuku, who wrapped himself in the course fibers with a broad smile, undeterred by the slight itch against his skin.
“Wait, how come I never knew you did this kind of grandma stuff?” Katsuki asked, picking up a strand of yarn as a spoke.
“Well…I didn’t practice it very long. And at the time, I wasn’t exactly looking for ways to stand out like that. I mean, what would ten-year-old Katsuki say to the quirkless boy who now also knits?”
Katsuki fell backward onto the bed. He knew Izuku was right. When he was ten, it would have been just the thing he would have latched onto to further torment Izuku.
“Yeah. I was such a little shithead. It’s honestly a wonder you still put up with me.” He looked over to Izuku. A wash of guilt was evident behind his crimson gaze.
“It’s okay, Kacchan. I always knew there was more to you beneath the surface, and you’re really not that person anymore.” He lightly nudged Katsuki with his foot.
“But just so you know, It’s not just for grandmas!” Izuku asserted. “Actually, there are all kinds of folks into this. Did you know most of the Pussycats are avid knitters?” Izuku grabbed his phone and scrolled to find a video. “Look! It’s Tiger. He has a knitting podcast and everything!” Izuku now impassioned, started scrolling through pages, showing the lengthy extent of video content.
He clicked into a video and pointed the screen in front of Katsuki:
“Hello everyone! I’m Chatora Yawara, or Tiger as many of you may know me by. But today, the only thing we are going Plus Ultra on is this never ending pile of WIPs! There’s a lot to catch up on—”
Izuku paused the video with an enthusiastic smile.
“I guess that’s not exactly how I’d imagine Tiger spending his free time. But…cats…yarn. How very on brand. I’ll give him that,” Katsuki responded, shaking his head with a subtle smirk.
“Kacchan, isn’t it cool that even in this crazy quirk driven world where technology is so advanced, something so simple like a strand of yarn and essentially some fancy sticks can still hold a world of endless possibilities?”
There was something about the joy in Izuku’s expression that touched him in that moment. He hadn’t seen him with such enthusiasm in a while. “Sure, nerd. Geek out as much as those hands can handle,” he said, allowing a small smile to emerge.
He paused a moment, observing the craggily scars along Izuku’s hands and forearms. They both had recovered significantly, and the splints and bandages were now mostly removed. But they each had a continued journey ahead. “I mean, are you recovered enough for this?”
“After they removed bandages, it’s surprisingly not so bad. There’s stiffness, and some tenderness. Actually, this has been helping in a way. I have to get used to doing normal things again, and this is pushing me.”
“Not pushing too much, right?!” Katsuki questioned, lifting himself upright to a seated position, insuring a proper look at Izuku. “I know how fixated you can get when you get stuck on something.”
“I promise I have been taking lots of breaks!” Izuku assured. “It’s like with One For All. First I started with 5%. So that’s what I’m doing. Just a little bit at a time.”
He fiddled with the needles in front of him before continuing. “But Kacchan, you’re one to talk! You’re not over doing it, right? The doctors were really clear about limiting physical exertion.”
“Relax, Deku! I’ve been a goddamn saint. I don’t think even Iida could restrain himself more.”
Katsuki paused for a moment before continuing. “It fucking sucks though…I’m bored out of my damn mind, and the TV is only ever showing the war coverage. I mean, if I have to see one more segment on the dysfunctional Todoroki saga. Or your ridiculous freckles continuously plastered on the screen. I just…can’t…”
Katsuki trailed off, casting his gaze toward his lap. He turned to Izuku, parting his lips as if to say something, but simply exhaled audibly and redirected his attention back toward his palms.
Izuku shifted his position, swinging his legs over the bed side and inching his way closer to Katsuki. He looked over to his arm sporting a special compression sleeve and a customized wrist brace. “How is your arm?”
“It’s ok. I’m regaining mobility.” He outstretched his arm and retracted it back. He removed the brace and rolled his wrist clockwise in a circle. “I can make a fist now. But, I still can’t access my quirk this this hand.” Izuku looked toward him with a sympathetic expression. “It’s…it’s nothing,” Katsuki assured, looking up toward the ceiling. He knew it was a small sacrifice, and nothing worth complaining about, especially not to Izuku.
“Well, no matter what, I know you Kacchan. And a little set back never stood in your way. Before you know it, you’re going to be blasting you’re way to the top. I have no doubt!” Izuku encouraged, nudging Katsuki reassuringly with his shoulder.
“Or…I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore…” He looked away. Izuku’s earnest smile, his soothing warmth next to his. It just didn’t feel right for him to root for his recovery.
“Hey! I think it matters. Your dreams matter!” Izuku affirmed. Katsuki glanced at him from the side before releasing and audible sigh.
“Tch. You shouldn’t have to…I’m sorry Izuku…” he apologized, running his fingers through his hair.
“Why are you apologizing, Kacchan?” Izuku asked, trying to find an opening to meet Katsuki’s gaze.
“I don’t know. You shouldn’t be consoling me. I mean, I should be…taking care of you,” Katsuki declared, looking down to the tips of his fingers that were now pressed together.
“Hmmm…I thought we were taking care of each other? I mean, isn’t that why you come here at two everyday?”
Katsuki looked up, allowing Izuku’s gaze to meet his own. He rested for a prolonged moment in the deep forest of his eyes. He noticed an increase in his heart rate and inhaled several slow breaths to calm the sudden pang in his chest. Of course Katsuki needed to see Izuku everyday, probably even more than Izuku needed him. Yet, the words could not escape him to confirm or deny this pointed observation. Instead he remained quiet, an unspoken admission evident in his silence.
Katsuki eventually shifted, redirecting his attention away from Izuku’s widened eyes. “So…uh…how does this all work,” he asked in an attempt to redirect the conversation, picking up the ball of yarn that had fallen between them.
“Oh! You actually want to know?” Izuku responded with a surprised expression.
“Tch. I don’t know…I just want to make sure you’re not over extending yourself,” Katsuki justified, feeling a heat rise at the base of his neck.
“Kacchan, of course I’ll show you! But you don’t need to worry so much about me, you know,” he reassured. Izuku flexed his hands several times before grasping a needle in each hand.
“First, you hold each needle like this,” he began, gently positioning the wooden needles between his fingers. “And then you insert the right needle into this loop from the front,” he continued, ensuring his movements were exceedingly slow and easy to follow.
“Then I grab the yarn and bring it around from the back to the front. I can then slip the needle through this hole here and slide this loop off like that…And that’s one knit stitch!” Izuku finished with a broad smile.
“So, that’s it?” Katsuki responded, as Izuku completed the action with relative ease.
“Yeah, pretty much! And then you just do it again…and again, and again, and ag—”
“Okay, nerd. I think I get the point,” Katsuki interrupted, playfully shaking his head.
“Do you want to try? I mean, only if you’re up for it!” Izuku enquired, offering him his in-progress swatch. “Honestly Kacchan, you have always been good with your hands and doing little fiddley things, like those cute garnishes you make from the cucumbers when you think no one is looking!”
His ears tinged red at the thought of his little vegetable carvings unwittingly noticed. “I don’t know…” Katsuki responded with skepticism, unsure if he would ever have that sort of dexterity again.
“If you think it’s too hard—”
“Tch. I mean if a seven-year-old can do it, it can’t be that hard. But…” He clutched his right hand, massaging it gently.
“Yeah. I get that,” Izuku acknowledged, observing Katuski’s tentative grasp of his wrist. “Our injuries are really different…Eri’s rewind quirk really made an impact on my recovery. You don’t have to—”
“Tch. Give that to me. I didn’t say I wouldn’t try,” Katsuki insisted, never one to back down from a challenge. He carefully tugged the swatch away from Izuku with his left hand and slowly curled his right finger tips around the small circumference of the needle. He attempted to position the tip between the yarn loop and the left needle.
“Oh wait, Kacchan,” Izuku interrupted, placing his hand gently on Katsuki’s shoulder. “Instead of going from the top of the loop you need to go from the bottom,” he corrected.
Katsuki’s hand trembled as he tried to correct the position, accidentally dropping the stitch off the left needle before he could complete the full motion. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. His eyes narrowed in apparent frustration.
“Don’t worry, Kacchan!” Izuku affirmed. “This is just a swatch for practice. There is nothing special about it.” He gently reclaimed the work, and picked up the dropped stitch back on the left needle tip. “See, nothing is ruined. I like that about this. No matter how much you mess up, you can always just take things out and redo it. It’s very forgiving.”
Forgiving. The word stood out to Katsuki, though he wasn’t sure he deserved forgiveness, even from inanimate objects.
“I know it’s really awkward at first, even under normal circumstances,” Izuku comforted. “Maybe, you can just watch instead?” Izuku moved in closer to Katsuki, leaning into his body to ensure a close view. He then slowly demonstrated the process again, muttering out loud, “In through the front door, around the back, peek through the window, and off jumps Jack!”
“Uh?—”
“Oh, it’s a little rhyme to remember the steps. Actually, I learned it from Eri!”
At this point, Izuku had finished the row and had turned the work, starting the process all over again. “They call this garter stitch when it’s only knit stitches,” Izuku further explained, as he continued for a few more stitches before pausing. He put the work back down on his lap.
“See. Taking a break!” Izuku assured, in a deliberate attempt to mollify Katsuki’s protective concern.
Katsuki picked up the swatch paused mid-row from Izuku’s lap and brought it back to his focus. He gently felt the fabric between his fingers before attempting to grasp the needles as Izuku demonstrated. He slowly recreated the steps, repeating the saying in his head as he went along. He slipped the loop off the needle to complete the stitch.
“That’s amazing, Kacchan!” Izuku beamed with an encouraging smile.
Katsuki was surprised by the sense of satisfaction for completing what seemed like the most basic of skills—a skill, no less, that he never had any consideration of before. Perhaps it was the warmth of Izuku’s expression as he eagerly observed his awkward movements. Or, that he was able to maneuver his hand with more precisions than a simple fist.
“You know, you’re not such a bad teacher. If that was ever your interest…” Katsuki shared with a slight curl in the corner of his mouth.
“Teach knitting? I think I’d have to be able to make more than a dishcloth first!” Izuku replied.
“I just mean in general,” Katsuki explained.
“I guess I’ve never really thought about that before…” Izuku shrugged as he contemplated the notion.
Katsuki continued to fumble successfully through two more stitches under the observance of his patient teacher. He paused for a moment, passing the work back to Izuku before slowly rolling his wrist in a circular motion.
Suddenly, Izuku reached over to Katsuki’s arm in response to his apparent discomfort, softly tracing the contours of his wrist with the tips of his fingers. Nearly frozen by his unexpected touch, Katsuki felt a sudden wave of sensations, an excitement tinged with a dull aching in his chest. He looked up to meet Izuku’s gaze, his breathing lengthened as Izuku continued to slowly explore his open palm.
Izuku paused, seemingly unsure if his touch had crossed an unspoken boundary. Katsuki slowly curled his fingers to brush his hand, subtly communicating a silent reciprocation. He gently encouraged Izuku’s fingers to slip between his own as he continued to lightly graze the back of his hand, softly following the ridges of his healing scars.
Izuku leaned further into Katsuki, dropping his head to his shoulder. Without explanation, they continued the delicate exploratory dance of their interlaced fingers, lost in the warmth of each other’s skin and the rise and fall of the their exaggerated breathing. The fluorescent backdrop of the sterile hospital room seemed to fade away in that moment, leaving only the interconnected electricity between them.
The sound of the door handle twisting unexpectedly brought them back into reality. Izuku sat upright, and Katsuki quickly pulled his hand away as All Might was wheeled into the space.
“All Might!” Izuku exclaimed with a flustered expression. “We were just…uh…I was just—”
“Showing me his latest nerd hobby,” Katsuki finished, attempting to regain his typical aloof demeanor.
“How come your back early? Is everything okay?” Izuku enquired, watching with apprehension as the nurse helped All Might back into his bed.
“Worry not boys. The old man just pushed a little too hard today,” he replied after being positioned into relative comfort. He looked over to the two shifting uncomfortably as they tried to distance themselves from their close proximity. All Might couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“Bakugo, you make sure our Midoriya doesn’t get too caught up in that activity over there,” he noted, the lids of his eyes slowly fluttering in exhaustion.
“Well, you heard the man, Deku!”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’m the one to worry about,” Izuku replied, observing as All Might tried to resist resting his eyes.
“I’m doing just…fine,” All Might yawned. “You don’t have to…worry about…a…thing,” he tried to reassure, soon drifting into sleep.
The nurse continued to jot a few items in the log before exiting the room, encouraging everyone to let All Might rest. The two were nearly alone again, the sound of All Might’s heavy breathing like thick fog settling between them. Their eyes met in a knowing exchange— a presumed acknowledgment of the charged moment that had just passed between them.
“I…uh…should probably go,” Katsuki eventually asserted as he lifted himself from the bed. He paused to observe Izuku looking intently back at him, Eri’s scarf still haphazardly draped around his neck.
“Heh,” Katsuki exhaled, allowing a full smile to emerge.
“What?” Izuku exclaimed, trying to keep his volume down.
“Sometimes your nerdiness is just too much to handle, Izuku!” he quietly replied.
“Don’t be so jealous!” he mocked, lightly kicking his leg.
Katsuki caught his ankle, pausing for a moment with the weight of his foot in his hand. “You should get some rest,” Katsuki instructed, repositioning his leg back on the bed. His fingers lingered against Izuku’s skin as he slowly pulled back.
“Kacchan?” Izuku softly called.
“Yeah, dork?”
“See you soon?” Izuku requested, his eyes clinging to Katsuki like an eager plea to stay.
“As if you can get rid of me that easily,” Katsuki scoffed, reluctantly moving to the door to begin the short journey back to his room.
Upon entering his room, Katsuki collapsed into bed. He rubbed his chest, trying to assuage the palpable increase in his heart rate.
“Damn nerd!” he muttered to himself as took several deep breaths. Bringing a pillow to his face he unleashed guttural roar, noticing a slight cathartic relief.
After several moments laying in restless silence, he found himself reaching for his phone, typing “Tiger Knitting Podcast” into the search bar. What am I even doing, he thought to himself.
He scrolled through various videos pausing on one posted nearly a year ago titled, “How Knitting Saved My Life.”
He clicked into the video:
“Hello everyone! Tiger here. It’s been a little while since my last video. I know I typically start with what’s on my needles, but I thought I’d share something different today.
We have been seeing an increase in unrest and divisiveness lately, and I was reminded of times in my life where I felt that too. When I was younger, I struggled a lot. You may never know that by looking at me now. People tend to see me as this tough guy. But, it took a long time to feel that outward strength on the inside. It was a serious journey to feel comfortable with who I am. My body. My identity. I felt lost.
But, there was one thing I had, even when I felt like I was drowning, and that was knitting. On days when I felt like I couldn’t lift myself out of bed, I had this comforting activity that I could still look forward to. Something that was tangible progress. Something that kept me occupied…
I know my experience isn’t unique, even if we don’t talk about it much in our society. We all have hardships. We all have our own unique story. So, while I might not be posting here as often, I just want you all to know that I see you— ”
Katsuki paused the video, surprised by a sudden well of emotions that had emerged, noticing a distinct lump in his throat.
“Fucking feline. Fucking Deku…Fucking knitting???” he muttered to himself, genuinely shocked by his reaction. He was now unable to further repress a stream of tears that began to flow along the contours of his cheeks. It was like dam released, and he could no longer restrain the ensuing flood that unleashed from within. His body shuddered with each uncontrolled sob, the pillow gradually growing damp beneath his cheek.
Suddenly, his ragged outpouring was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. After several halting inhales, he managed to catch his breath and wipe the tears as best he could to see a text from Izuku.
Deku: are you sleeping?
Katsuki paused for a moment, gathering himself before responding.
Me: no…
Me: You should be resting!
Deku: YOU should be resting!
Me: how can I rest if you’re texting me?
Deku: All Might is snoring too much 💤
Deku: can I come over to your room?
Me: dumb question
Me: as if you need permission…
Deku: 😊
“Shit!” Katsuki exclaimed, realizing he was still a red-faced mess from the unexpected burst of emotions. He tried to further wipe his eyes, only to emphasize his swollen appearance. Little could be done by the time Izuku made his way to his room, and he was soon opening the door after a subtle knock.
“Kacchan, I really did try to rest, but—” Izuku started upon entry, stopping short as he observed Katsuki’s puffed eyes.
“Kacchan, are you okay?!”
“Fuck!” he exhaled falling backward onto his pillow. “It’s all your fault…”
“My fault? What did I do?!” Izuku exclaimed, hobbling as quickly as he could to approach Katsuki with a look of genuine concern.
“No, it’s not your fault. It’s just stupid Tiger. And…tch…here…”
He handed Izuku the phone with the video pulled up.
“Oh, Kacchan,” he said with a knowing looking. “I’ve watched that one too. It’s impossible not to cry!” He reassured.
Izuku gently nudged Katsuki, guiding him to the edge of the bed to allow just enough space to position his slender frame alongside him. The bed was barely enough space for them both. Izuku awkwardly rearranged himself, eventually finding slight comfort as he placed his head on Katsuki’s uninjured shoulder.
“It’s ok to cry, Kacchan,” he shared.
“Well, not everyone is as used to that as you are…” he said, looking away.
“I know. I cry at everything. But sometimes you just need that, you know?”
“It’s just…nothing is as it was supposed to be! And then some dumb cat talking about knitting of all things…seeing right through me,” Katsuki confessed, tears again filling his eyes. “I just…can’t stop thinking about you! And how maybe if I was stronger…you’d have—”
“Kacchan, you almost died. You did die! And you still gave your everything!”
Izuku brought his hand to Katsuki’s head, allowing him to fully unburden himself upon him, tears and snot dampening his shirt, until there was nothing left for him to unload. Slowly catching his breath, he pulled back from Izuku’s embrace, wiping his face on the pillow behind him.
“Fuck, Izuku!” he eventually relented. “And the worst part? All I want to do is be around you…watch you geek out about some All Might special or…even knitting? And I just feel this fucking aching in my chest. Like it literally hurts to be around you! But when I’m here, by myself…it’s just as bad.”
Izuku paused in his gaze, gently wiping the remaining tears from his cheeks. “Does this hurt?” he asked, tracing his jaw with the back of his index finger.
Katsuki inhaled deeply. “Mmm,” he mumbled, closing his eyes as he leaned into his touch.
“Does this hurt?” Izuku continued, drawing his hand to his chest, resting in the rise and fall of his breathing.
“In a good way,” he responded.
“What about this?” Izuku brought his lips to his cheek and kissed him softly, the tip of his nose trailing along his skin as he pulled away. Katsuki audibly exhaled, before allowing a subtle smile to emerge.
“Izuku?” he called after a moment.
“Yeah, Kacchan?”
“Can you stay here for a while?”
“As if you could get rid of me that easily,” Izuku responded, running his fingers through his hair.
“Can you tell me some dumb facts about All Might or knitting…or anything really.”
Izuku smiled, repositioning his head against his shoulder. “Well, I could tell you what my dream knitting project would be…”
Katsuki softly grunted in approval as he let his eye lids fall shut.
“So, If I get good enough to do colorwork, and more complex projects obviously, I saw a pattern to make a sweater inspired by All Might’s Golden Age costume,” Izuku began, allowing an unrestrained rambling to unfold.
“That’s a stretch goal for the future. I’d have to learn how to make a sweater first, not to mention intarsia. But who knows! Maybe one day I can make a collection of All Might sweaters? Even a Bronze Age one? But, I think for now…I’d just like to make something for Eri…but I’ll have to put a lot more thought into what that might be…what do you think Eri would like? I guess you don’t know her that well…Maybe I can learn crochet? And make her some little amigurumi figure?”
He paused his chatter, noticing a shift in Katsuki’s breathing. “Kacchan?” he whispered.
Izuku continued to lightly stroke Katsuki’s hair, watching as he drifted further into sleep. “Don’t worry, Kacchan,” he quietly assured. “I’m not going anywhere.”