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Izuku lay sprawled across the rooftop of the school.
It was late afternoon, and the sky above was ablaze with a riot of colors—fiery oranges, deep indigos, and dark purples blending together like a half-finished painting. In the distance, clouds were stained with a brilliant red, their edges glowing with hints of gold and amber.
Strangely, it reminded Izuku of a pair of red eyes.
He could see those eyes in every moment of joy or despair, even when he closed his own, right until his final breath. Those crimson orbs were striking, burning with an intensity that felt almost surreal. They haunted his dreams and pierced through his nightmares, lighting up both his darkest fears and his sweetest reveries. As long as he could remember, he had been mesmerized by them. Gazing into them was like staring straight into the scorching sun. A raging fire. Molten embers. Blazing sky on a summer day. Raw and untamed.
Oh, how he loved them so.
Izuku raised his hand, as if trying to grasp the brilliant hues of orange and red in his palm. But the light shattered. Slipped away like sand through his fingers, scattering across the floor in specks of fading brilliance.
Those same eyes had looked down on him with an unfathomable amount of hatred and disdain that day. The red eyes that Izuku dreamt about and loved so much couldn’t even bear the sight of him. But even so, he couldn’t help but admire them. Like right now, despite the fact that his body was shaking from fear and pain; he still stared right into them. It was a habit he got from when he was a kid. He couldn’t get rid of it.
“Don’t fucking stare at me with those big ass green eyes of yours, it creeps me the fuck out.”
Another harsh push. His already throbbing figure was painfully shoved against the wall. He lost balance and fell to the ground. The bruises all over his body ached once again as he broke out of his trance. But it was nothing. He was used to this anyway. How long has this been going on? Years. He couldn’t remember exactly when and why everything between him and this person started to go downhill. He didn’t dare to ask either.
Izuku timidly looked up, and immediately caught Katsuki’s fiery eyes staring straight at him. He was startled, looked down immediately.
He still vividly remembered the days of their childhood. When everything hadn’t fallen apart and the two were still best friends. From the time he was just a kid, not fully understanding what the word 'hero' truly meant but already wanting to become one, Katsuki had appeared in his life. Even as a child, he was strong and arrogant. At first, the two became friends simply because of their shared admiration for All Might, but somewhere along the way, Izuku's eyes had started to follow him. He often wondered if there was anyone else in the world with eyes as fiery and full of passion as Katsuki's. As if nothing in the world could ever make him afraid or cause him to back down.
“Oi nerd, don’t fucking ignore me.”
A punch landed on Izuku’s left cheek. He let out a small cry as the sudden pain struck his face, his body losing balance from the impact and collapsing onto the floor.
“Last warning, Deku. Don’t fucking go to U.A. High School.”
Again. Why did Izuku applying to U.A. make Katsuki so furious? Was the mere thought of attending the same school as a quirkless kid really enough to disgust him that much? All Izuku ever wanted was to become a hero. A great hero like All Might. Like Katsuki. That was all he had ever longed for and dreamed of his entire life. Was that too much to ask?
“K-Kacchan…”
Izuku struggled to let out the words. The childhood nickname felt bitter on his tongue. Izuku didn’t know why he kept calling Katsuki that even after they grew up, no matter how many times he beat him up. Maybe because that’s the only connection he still had with him, with the person he admired the most beside All Might. Katsuki just kind of accepted it when he realized Izuku just couldn’t stop calling him that. Just like how he would never stop calling him Deku.
“You know, if you want to be a hero that much, there is a more efficient way.”
Before Izuku could react, Katsuki grabbed a handful of his hair, forcing him to look directly at him. Their faces were inches apart. Through the messy strands of his own green hair, Izuku caught another glimpse of those eyes. In moments like this, they were the only times he despised those fiery red eyes. The blazing passion they usually held was now consumed with hatred, burning so fiercely that it felt like they would set him on fire, swallow him whole. His chest tightened in pain. Izuku didn’t understand. Why? Why did Katsuki hate him so much?
“Just believe that you’ll have a quirk in your next life and take a dive off the school roof.”
Each word, each syllable from Katsuki cut deep into Izuku’s heart. He thought he had grown used to this by now—used to the punches, the insults, the irrational cruelty. But maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he never had, and never would be able to grow accustomed to this overwhelming pain. It felt like his already shattered heart was being trampled on, once again, without mercy. And with every instance Katsuki treated him like this, Izuku’s belief that he could become a hero diminished, little by little. Like this, for years.
Izuku felt his eyelids grow warm. Tears spilled down his cheeks, rolling down to his tightly pressed lips. Salty. It had been a long time since he last cried because of Katsuki’s words. Normally, he would endure it, letting the cruel words drift away like wind. But this time, Katsuki had gone too far.
Yet, Katsuki showed no remorse. He simply let go of Izuku, allowing his head to fall limply to the side, and laughed with his friends. He turned his back and walked away, leaving Izuku’s body and soul in ruins without even offering him a second glance.
This was how it always had been.
Izuku reminisced about his childhood, as if he were trapped in the past with those distant and simple days. When he and Katsuki were just carefree kids, he would follow Katsuki everywhere. Katsuki had always been an arrogant and fierce child, even before he had his quirk—something that had never changed. He often picked fights with older kids, flaunting his bravado. Izuku still remembered that day. They were only four years old, standing in front of a store, watching a TV that showed All Might performing hero duties. A group of first graders walked by, mocking them, saying that only little kids liked All Might. And Katsuki immediately lunged at one of them, fists flying at a kid who was still laughing. Of course, Katsuki lost—he was still just a kid, and there were several of them. But that day, despite being beaten up and knowing that Mitsuki had just threatened to kick him out of the house if he got into another fight, he never gave up. No matter how many times he was shoved or punched, he kept getting up and clinging onto those older kids until they gave up and apologized. All Izuku could do was stand behind, frozen with fear, tears streaming down his face. Only after the older boys left did he dare run to Katsuki, sobbing uncontrollably.
Yet Katsuki—with a bloodied nose and his small body covered in bruises—clicked his tongue in annoyance, wiping Izuku’s tear-streaked face with a harsh swipe of his hand, saying, "Deku, you're such a crybaby. Heroes aren't supposed to cry."
Katsuki, in Izuku's eyes, had always been amazing like that—something that had never changed.
But that was the only thing that remained constant, as everything else slowly fell apart. After discovering that Izuku was quirkless, Katsuki grew more distant, more out of reach. No matter how much he pushed Izuku away, no matter how much he beat him up, Izuku couldn’t stop himself from chasing after him. Katsuki was like the sun. Blazing and brilliant; but gaze too long, tears will inevitably fall. Katsuki was like the rain. Nourishing withered souls; yet when unrelenting, crush even the strongest of roots.
Izuku slowly sat up. The sunlight had begun to fade. The sunset timidly retreated to a small sliver at the horizon, flickering against the darkness that was ready to swallow the world whole. His body still ached, the bruises occasionally flaring with sharp pain. Katsuki had been rougher with him this time—it seemed like he was serious about U.A..
Ignoring the pain, Izuku limped toward the railing, gripping the cold metal bar as he looked up at the sky again. That flickering light, like dying embers, would be gone in just a few more minutes. How long had he been lying here? Time always passed strangely fast whenever he came to this place. Maybe it was because no one else ever came up here—no taunts, no mockery, no fists or shoves.
No Katsuki.
Izuku glanced down absentmindedly. The school roof was on the fifth floor, which didn’t sound that high, but when standing at the railing and staring down at the ground, he realized the height was no joke. Nine meters was a fatal height for a free fall, equivalent to about four floors. He’d heard somewhere that if someone jumped from the 20th floor, ignoring air resistance, it would only take 3.5 seconds to hit the ground.
Which meant if Izuku jumped from here, he wouldn’t even have time to regret.
He recalled Katsuki’s words, and his heart clenched painfully. Hot tears immediately welled up in his eyes, and he began to tremble. He should have been used to this by now—why was he letting it affect him so much? But even though Izuku knew Katsuki hated him so much, he never thought Katsuki wanted him dead. Katsuki was arrogant and violent, but Izuku never expected him to say something so cruel. The thought that Katsuki was so sick of seeing him every day, so full of hatred that he wanted him gone—God, just the thought of it made it hard to breathe. The truth was, Izuku could endure all the violence Katsuki inflicted; it was his words that truly tormented him. Izuku was no stranger to insults and mockery—being quirkless in a superhuman society, it had practically become a part of his daily life. But whenever Katsuki was the one throwing those words at him, the pain multiplied tenfold. Katsuki, the person Izuku had admired, the figure he had chased after since he was a kid, the one who stuffed his head full of cruel words for years— useless, quirkless, weak . Izuku tried not to let those lies sink in, but it was so hard. It was hard to cling to an impossible dream from childhood when everyone around him said it was unattainable.
To Izuku, Katsuki was the embodiment of victory. If anyone could surpass All Might, it would be him. If anyone could become number one, it would be him. It sounded like a joke, but Katsuki had always been Izuku’s hero.
Until now.
His eyes remained fixed on the ground below. There was a small pond behind the school, but that didn’t matter. From this height, water turned into solid concrete. He caught sight of his hero analysis notebook, floating aimlessly on the surface—the one Katsuki had burned and thrown out the window earlier. His heart ached.
Izuku wondered, if he jumped right now, what would Katsuki’s reaction be? Would he laugh and call him an idiot, or would he fall silent? Would he regret it? Izuku had stood in this exact spot a few times before, after being hurt too much. Here, with his hands gripping the iron bars, stupid thoughts racing through his mind. But back then, he didn’t have the courage to jump. No pain from the past could compare to the moment Katsuki told him to die.
Izuku hadn’t even realized when the tears started streaming down his face. He gripped the railing tightly, his knuckles turning white, as if holding onto his last lifeline. This was the final barrier separating him from the other side. Once he crossed it, would the pain finally stop?
His legs moved on their own, lifting him onto the wall. It was already late—no teachers were around to stop him. After pulling his entire body over the railing, he let go and stood tall.
The first thing Izuku felt was the wind. It whipped against his face, stinging, and sent his messy hair flying. His clothes flapped wildly, and his whole body shivered from the cold. Without something to hold onto, the height below suddenly felt much more terrifying. He took a deep breath, staring up at the horizon instead of looking down.
Far away, the last remnants of the setting sun had vanished.
"Hey, do you think we went a bit too far with Midoriya today?"
Katsuki froze for a moment when he heard the words. He and his friends were on their way home. For Katsuki, it was just another ordinary day—go to school, study to get out of this stupid place, pick on Izuku, sometimes hang out with friends, go home, train, and sleep.
He hadn’t even given much thought to what he’d done until the other guy mentioned it. Sure, he’d lost his temper today, but that was Izuku’s fault. Why did that stupid, quirkless idiot still cling to the hope of becoming a hero and apply to U.A.? This wasn’t bullying—he was helping him face reality. If Izuku really got into U.A., he wouldn’t survive a day there. Sure, he was smart, but brains didn’t matter if he didn’t have the power to become a hero. Besides, Katsuki was sick of seeing him every day. He didn’t know why, but ever since he could remember, Izuku had been in all of his memories. Since they were little kids, Izuku had always been there, following him, looking at him with those big, shining eyes. Even before these extras that clung to him now. He hadn’t cared much back then—Izuku was just another admirer. But one day, Katsuki had tripped and fallen into the river. The water was shallow, so he wasn’t hurt, and even if it had been deep, he could’ve easily swum out. His friends all knew that. So they didn’t pay it any mind. But Izuku— stupid Deku —had dared to think he was better than him, dared to think Katsuki had been hurt by something so trivial, and had the nerve to offer him a hand, asking if he was okay.
In Katsuki’s entire life, no one had ever done that for him. He had grown up with his mother’s violence and insults, learning to be independent and do everything on his own. If he couldn’t do something, she’d tear him down with sharp words— stupid, useless, weak . Maybe that’s why he had such a rough personality. But that didn’t matter. What the number one hero needed was overwhelming strength, not sweet words, kindness, or any of that nonsense.
U.A. would mark the first milestone on his journey to becoming the number one hero, and it would prove the distance between him and Izuku.
If Izuku couldn’t handle his words, that was his fault for being too weak.
But what if he really jumped? Katsuki wondered. Although he hated to admit it, he understood Izuku better than anyone else. Despite looking like a coward, he was the most reckless person there was. That’s why sometimes he did the most unimaginably stupid things. When they were kids, there was a time he saw a cat stuck up in a tree and unable to come down. Despite Katsuki’s attempts to stop him and tell him to just leave it, Izuku insisted on rescuing it and tried to climb the tall tree that was as high as a two-story building. He didn’t even know how to climb a tree, tumbling down again and again. But even with his face smeared with tears, he refused to give up. He was just that stubborn and foolish. Even after they grew up, he was still just as headstrong. He clung desperately to the dream of becoming a hero that they had both nurtured since childhood, even after realizing he was quirkless. And that made Katsuki unbearably angry.
But Izuku wouldn’t jump. He knew better than that. He wouldn’t give up so easily. He wouldn’t leave his single mother all alone.
But if, just if, he really did jump, then it would be his fault. Because he was the one who told him to do it. Katsuki unconsciously bit his lip. An invisible fear suddenly overtook him, making him swallow hard. He didn’t like this feeling.
“… You guys go ahead. I’ll head back to school for a bit. Forgot something.”
Katsuki made up an excuse. Then, without paying attention even in the slightest to what these extras said, he turned and ran back towards the school.
This was just precautionary. It wasn’t that he cared about that pathetic nerd whether he lived or died. But if he were stupid enough to actually jump because of his words, what kind of hero would that make Katsuki? He just didn’t want to be labeled a murderer; he still had a whole future ahead. He couldn’t let himself be dragged down by a quirkless loser like Deku.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Izuku's legs began to feel numb, his body shaking violently against the strong wind. He stared down below, biting his lip so hard that it tore the thin skin. He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth along with the salty sting of tears flowing down his cheeks. He was scared.
Maybe after he died, this pain would truly stop. But then, there would be nothing left. This body, these thoughts, his dreams, his hopes—all would turn to nothing. Empty. He still wanted to rewrite the analyses in the notebook that had been burned. He still wanted to buy the limited edition All Might figurine that was coming out this weekend. He still wanted to see the fireworks at the August summer festival. He wanted to eat peppermint chocolate ice cream from the ice cream truck that passed by his house every Saturday afternoon. He wanted to wake up at five in the morning to run along the beach. He wanted to watch the sunrise slowly emerge from the water.
He wanted to drown in those crimson eyes like the summer sun once more.
And his mother—oh, his mother. That hardworking, resilient woman. The one who always worried to the point of tears whenever he came home with just a few bruises. The woman who had raised him single-handedly up to this day… He was the only one she had left. What would happen to her after he was gone?
Izuku raised his head, trying to stabilize his ragged breath as if he had just run a long distance. He didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that seemed like they would never stop flowing. The sky before him was now dark. The deep and silent night stood in stark contrast to his heart, which was pounding restlessly.
Tomorrow, the sun would shine again, right?
“Deku…?”
Izuku jumped at the sound of that familiar voice. He quickly turned his head, but before he could even grasp what was happening, his foot stumbled against the railing, causing his body to fall backward. His eyes widened as he felt himself suddenly weightless.
And that was when he saw the face of the other person.
It was strange. Izuku thought that if he truly fell from here, he wouldn’t have time to regret it. Yet at this moment, the whole world seemed to freeze, and his mind became clearer than ever. He could see each bead of sweat glistening on Katsuki’s forehead, and his chest was heaving as if he had run here at full speed. He saw the face that always wore a look of arrogance and disdain frozen in place. He saw the deep red eyes that he had always longed for wide open in horror. So, he did care.
An invisible burden seemed to lift off Izuku's shoulders, and he sighed in relief. He still had too many regrets, but at least now he knew the truth. Maybe that was enough. He gently closed his eyes, accepting wherever the fierce wind would take him.
But Katsuki would not.
In an instant, he used his quirk to propel himself forward, unhesitatingly flying straight toward Izuku’s falling body. Izuku thought the next thing that would catch him would be the water, solid as metal, and the feeling of all his bones shattering to pieces, but no. What he felt was the strong arms of the boy he had admired all his life wrapping around him, tight enough to make it hard to breathe. Even if the sky were to fall down right now, those arms wouldn’t loosen. His face buried into the other’s chest, and the erratic heartbeat in his ear made him realize he was more alive than ever. The sweet smell of caramel from the nitroglycerin on Katsuki’s body filled his nostrils, making his own heart race wildly.
Izuku would give anything just to stay in those warm arms for even a moment longer.
Their bodies crashed heavily onto the floor. Katsuki had used his back as a shield, one hand covering Izuku's head to protect him from the impact. He let out a soft cry of pain, and Izuku suddenly snapped back to reality. They were still on the rooftop. He had been saved by Katsuki.
Izuku looked down in shock. Katsuki still had his eyes tightly shut from the pain. But the moment he opened them, the blood-red gaze filled with both fear and fury made Izuku shiver. At first, Katsuki's lips trembled, moving as if he were unable to form words. But his scream right after was loud enough for someone on the first floor to hear.
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!”
Izuku grimaced at the terrible volume of the other. He was lying on top of Katsuki, snugly in his embrace. Katsuki's arms were still tightly gripping his shirt, as if afraid that just loosening his hold even for a little bit would let him run off and jump down again. It was strange; the Katsuki he knew feared nothing.
He didn’t know how to answer his question. ‘Actually, I just accidentally tripped and wasn’t going to jump!’ or something like that...? But the moment his whole body lost weight, he had accepted his death quicker than he thought. And to be honest, it wasn’t that scary.
Suddenly, Katsuki shot up. His hand shot out, grabbing the collar of Izuku’s shirt and yanking him down. Izuku gasped at the sudden action. In an instant, they were face to face. The distance between them was so close that Katsuki’s labored breath gently stirred the bangs that hung over Izuku’s forehead.
And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he could look straight into those red eyes without fear.
He saw his tear-streaked face mirrored in those eyes. The deep red that burned like an eternal flame was now brimming with unshed tears, wavering and filled with fear. The anger that had been there before had faded, leaving only faint remnants. Replaced by doubt, panic, regret, and a deep sorrow. He had never witnessed such a wealth of emotions in anyone’s eyes before. In that moment, that gaze was no longer blazing like a fire that could scorch flesh.
And for the first time in his life, that red reminded him of the first sunlight after snow melted. The warmth of a fireplace on a cold December night. A lighthouse in the endless sea. Neon lights under the rain. Mars. Fireflies. Those once fiery eyes now flickered softly, carrying a silent plea.
And Izuku—like the fool he always had been—fell hard all over again.