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Things are weird between All Might and Katsuki, Izuku’s noticed.
He probably should have put it together earlier—should have remembered the awkward silence that seemed to fill the space when Katsuki visited them in their hospital room. Despite his parents’ and one of the nurse’s protests, Katsuki had demanded that he stay, just for a bit, just to catch his breath. He had spent the time staring resolutely at Izuku, tears still in his eyes, and Izuku hadn’t known what to do. Hadn’t known how to look away. Hadn’t known how to approach the inescapable expanse of feelings that seemed to stifle their every interaction.
All Might had been the one to break the silence, and Izuku should have remembered. He should have remembered the way Katsuki’s body turned tight with tension. He should have remembered the almost blank look Katsuki had directed at All Might. He should have remembered the slight stutter that All Might let out when he seemed to notice the same thing.
At the time, though, Izuku hadn’t been able to think too hard about any of that. He was just happy to be alive in the end, and his mother had rushed in at that point, body shaking with grief, with relief, with anger and love.
Still, he should’ve put it together in the year following. Katsuki never seemed to want to talk about All Might anymore, and he didn’t seem to want to see him much either. Izuku had definitely noticed at first, but he chalked it up to Katsuki not feeling up to it because of he was too tired from or too busy with his recovery and physical therapy. All Might had asked about Katsuki a few times, small comments like “How’s Young Bakugou doing these days, Midoriya-shounen?” and Izuku would let out a strained, little laugh, and explain how brave he thought Kacchan was, every single day. All Might would smile at him, because All Might always wanted to smile for him, but there was something there, something that Izuku hadn’t been able to reconcile with.
When they graduated, Izuku realized again that it was a bit awkward when All Might stood in a photo with the two of them, his large hands covering the expanse of each of their shoulders, and Katsuki had been stiff in a way that was unnatural, even for him, but Izuku had been too caught up in his elation to say anything about it. All Might had left them alone a few times, wandering off to talk to other students and parents, and Izuku had let him, figuring it was because he wanted to be polite.
It isn’t until nearly three months later, when Izuku’s talking to Katsuki about his plans for university that he finally realizes.
“What does All Might think about this?”
Izuku blinks at him. “All Might? You mean about me becoming a teacher?”
Katsuki shifts a bit, their bench creaking softly at the motion, and Izuku frowns. Katsuki’s feeling uncomfortable now for some reason.
“Yeah. What’s he think about it?”
“Uhm, I mean, he supports me? You both helped me come to the decision, Kacchan. I thought I’ve told you this…?”
“No. You never said that.”
It’s his tone that’s setting alarms off in Izuku’s head. Katsuki sounds angry—sounds the way he hasn’t truly sounded since their first year at U.A., sounds like he’s a boy again, angry at the world because he’s angry at himself. Izuku swallows, suddenly feeling like he’s walking on landmines. Is it too much again? Are they too much? Is this when Katsuki is going to pull back from him again?
“Ah, sorry?” Izuku pauses. “I guess I thought I did. He’s actually, uh, he’s actually funding my education… I didn’t realize until after he already paid, though. My mom asked him, and he agreed readily. Apparently.” He lets out a bitter laugh at that, but he’s so tired of worrying his mother. He’s so, so tired of letting her down for his own dreams—he can afford to let her demand security for his schooling. He can let her be his mother. He forces a small smile. "It’s okay, though. Being a teacher will be good for me. All Might’s a teacher now and he’s a great one. Of course, I don’t have nearly as much experience as him….”
Katsuki stares at him. “Did he tell you?”
“About what?”
“About him funding your education and shit.”
Izuku nods, still so confused, still feeling like Katsuki is going to implode within himself any minute now. “Yeah, he told me after he paid for it. My mom apparently wanted him to keep it a secret for longer, but he said he wanted to be honest with me in case I found out. I’m glad he told me.”
Katsuki snorts. “I’m sure you are.”
“What do you mean by that?” Izuku asks, frowning.
“He gives in to you too much.”
The reply settles uncomfortably in Izuku’s stomach, opening some kind of chasm that Izuku doesn’t know how to cross. What’s happening right now?
“What?” Izuku hates how small his voice sounds when he asks it.
Katsuki looks away, peering out at the lake. They meet up at this park every now and then, after working out together or just wanting to catch up. Right now, there’s a breeze in the air and it sways Katsuki’s hair, just so. He needs to get it cut; Katsuki’s been complaining about that for a few months now. Izuku thinks it looks nice, but he never says that, never knows how to say that without it meaning too much.
He isn’t even sure what it means to him, really.
And then, Katsuki’s standing up, obviously intent on leaving. Alarmed, Izuku stands up as well, asking a hurried, “Where are you going?”
Katsuki clenches his jaw. “I can’t be here right now, Izuku.”
Izuku feels like he’s in middle school, suddenly. Feels like he’s stuck watching Katsuki’s back, never moving forward, never getting to see the boy face him onwards with anything except contempt.
Izuku isn’t in middle school, though.
He reaches out, grabbing Katsuki’s upper arm when Katsuki tries to walk away, and he can tell that Katsuki tries to shrug him off, but Izuku doesn’t let him, digging his fingers into Katsuki, harsh and demanding.
“You can’t just leave, Kacchan. I won’t let you just walk away, not anymore, okay? I thought we agreed to this already.”
Katsuki’s body relaxes unwillingly, and he lets out a small, frustrated sigh. He turns, facing Izuku, eyes so expressive, so red Izuku thinks he can taste it.
“I don’t want to piss you off, Deku.”
“Well, you’re pissing me off right now anyway,” Izuku snaps. He immediately deflates, guilt settling at the bottom of his throat. “Please, Kacchan. You can’t leave. Don’t leave.” He presses his fingers even more into Katsuki, watches as Katsuki lets out a small gasp, his body flinching, but he doesn’t pull away, and Izuku lets that mean more than it probably does. “Just tell me, Kacchan.”
“Fine,” Katsuki spits out with a scowl, and he’s finally shoving Izuku off him, sitting back down on their bench, staring out at the lake like it’s the only thing he can see. Izuku sits down beside him again, and Katsuki sighs again. “You let him give in to you, Deku. You don’t even see it, but you do. It’s like… he can never do anything wrong to you or something.”
Izuku feels like he’s missed something.
“Are you talking about All Might?”
Katsuki shoots him an irritated glance. “Who else, you fucking moron? Of course, I am.”
He’s definitely missed something.
“All Might hasn’t done anything wrong to me, though, Kacchan.”
Scoffing, Katsuki looks back at the lake, and Izuku watches as his hands grip into his own knees, scrunching up his sweatpants.
Katsuki’s gaze snaps back to his. “That’s what I fucking mean, Deku. It’s like you’re blind to him. You let your hero worship take you over and it makes you careless.”
“I don’t understand exactly what you’re trying to tell me, Kacchan.” Izuku swallows. “I mean, I know I’m careless? But I don’t… that isn’t All Might’s fault, it’s mine. It’s not like I’ve ever given him a choice when it comes to most of my decisions? I’m lucky, honestly, that he treats me the way that he does.” Izuku’s fiddling with his hands. There’s so much more he wants to say about this, but he doesn’t know where to start. He wishes he could go into detail about everything All Might has done for him—everything All Might has said to him. Katsuki doesn’t even know the half of it. Izuku pinches one of his palms. “Kacchan, if you’re trying to say that All Might has ever done something bad to me then you’re just… you’re wrong, Kacchan. And you don’t know what you’re talking about at all.”
Katsuki’s expression grows hard. “That’s not what I’m saying, Izuku. I’m saying that you’re both careless. You’re both self-sacrificing and get yourselves hurt because of it all the damn time. Just look at him, Deku! You think he’s the pinnacle of health? He’s, fuck, I get it, okay? Of course I get it. He’s amazing.” Katsuki hesitates and Izuku tracks the careful breaths he purposefully takes in. “He’s… he’s my hero, Izuku. Of course I don’t think he’s done something bad to you. It’s… I’m just, fuck, I’m bitter, okay?”
“Bitter about what? About my relationship with him?”
"No,” Katsuki shakes his head, looking so miserable, and Izuku’s aware of his heart in a way he doesn’t like to be. “No, Izuku, I’m not bitter about that. I probably was years ago, I don’t know, but no. I’m bitter that he… I’m bitter that he didn’t try more to stop you.” Katsuki reaches out then and the movement is so sudden that Izuku almost flinches, but Katsuki is too quick for him, he’s always too quick for him, and when he feels Katsuki’s warm hand settle on Izuku’s left cheek, Izuku almost feels like crying. “Every time I look at your scars, I think about his own. I think about how it must have all been so normal to him, to give up so much of himself to save others. I admired it when I was a kid because I was a fucking kid, and I didn’t fucking know him. He was just my ideal—someone for me to idolize and aspire to be better than.
“But then I met him, and I learned more about everything. About you, about him, about OFA, and I realized that I sometimes just really pitied him, Izuku.” Katsuki’s hand travels from Izuku’s cheek to cup his jaw instead, just briefly, a lingering breath of feeling that is gone as soon as it happens. Katsuki lets out a bitter laugh, running the same hand through his own hair instead. Izuku thinks again how Katsuki wants to get it cut; he briefly wonders if Katsuki would let him cut it. What a stupid thought. “It’s not like he has a lot of people in his life, right? And it scared me as time went on. I kept thinking, What about Deku?”
Izuku sucks in a breath. “Kacchan…”
Katsuki doesn’t stop, everything seemingly unable to stop flowing out of him. Izuku should be used to this by now, the way that Katsuki finally lets it all out, and to him no less, but he’s not used to it at all. He’s still afraid of losing it again. He can’t even begin to wonder that it may be forever.
“And I just couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it. It was always in the back of my head. Shit like, What about Deku? Will he get hurt like this too? Will he be lonely like this too? Will he even get to fucking live a life he actually wants and likes that isn’t revolved around just helping others?"
Izuku feels something inside him break, and it’s all too much suddenly. He thinks about his dreams, he thinks about the way he’s been lying awake in bed so late into the night, staring at his ceiling, the sense of loss within him so cataclysmic that he’s worried he won’t ever be to fill it again. He had even thought about texting All Might about it. Asking him if he had felt like this, when he passed on OFA to him, but then he had thought about the way All Might would worry himself and he couldn’t do it.
Is that what Katsuki means, really? That he doesn’t…
“You just don’t seem to care sometimes, Deku. About your own life. It’s like… it’s like you want to be like All Might so much that you’re willing to throw everything away for it. You,” Katsuki swallows. “I mean, you told me about your mom, right? You told me how you didn’t want to keep worrying her and how… how guilty you felt towards her about everything.”
Izuku nods through his tears. He didn’t even realize he was crying; he thinks he started crying when Katsuki implied he wished Izuku didn’t have to carry his scars with him. He doesn’t know. It’s as if all he really knows is that he wants to touch Katsuki’s hair, wants to run his hands through it and pull at the strands, and he wants to tell Katsuki that Izuku is so selfish and he knows it, he knows it so deeply from within him how selfish he really is. Selfish for wanting to change the world, selfish for wanting to save everybody, selfish for wanting to keep his Quirk, his embers, the fire that had lit up the entire world from inside him, that all started from such a miraculous, You can be a hero.
And he’s selfish for wanting to keep Katsuki forever. For not wanting Katsuki to leave him behind. He’s so selfish for that so he doesn’t say a word. Can’t say a word. Doesn’t even know how he could say it besides, Please, can I cut your hair, Kacchan? I like it but if you don’t, I’ll do it for you, I just want you to be happy. I just want you to need me as much as I need you.
"I don’t—” Izuku finally manages to say, but Katsuki doesn’t let him, staring at him with tears in his own eyes, and Izuku thinks back to the hospital room, the way that Katsuki just sat there and stared, as if he didn’t want to look away.
As if he was afraid that Izuku would vanish the instant that he did.
Oh.
Oh.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And, after, after the war, I just kept thinking, What about Deku?” Katsuki’s voice breaks, and Izuku cries even harder at the sound. He’s doing this. He’s the one who did this. Kacchan is crying because of him. “I was fucking terrified of you losing your embers, Izuku. I was terrified that it’d twist you up inside but you wouldn’t admit it. You’re always fucking smiling. You act like it doesn’t bother you. Like it doesn’t matter. You keep saying how you’re just lucky that you got to be a hero for a little while, as if you wouldn’t have fucking died for it, as if you wouldn’t have discarded everything in your life just to pursue that dream, all at the helm of All Might himself. He supported you so much. I couldn’t stand it.”
Izuku’s shaking his head now, an embarrassing mess of tears, and he can’t look at Katsuki anymore, rubbing at his eyes as he forces himself to look down at his lap instead. He vaguely wonders if there’s anybody else in the park with them; he doubts it. They probably would have left by now.
“You deserved someone to be there and force you to stop. To knock you on your stupid ass. To pull you back completely. I was terrified you’d lose your embers, Deku, because I was fucking terrified that you’d give up on being a hero. You idolize All Might so much it’s like you can’t always see the person he is underneath the hero. Because you look at him the way that he is and he’s still your greatest hero. I get it—he’s one of mine, too.
"But, because of this fucking obsession, you think that you’re not a hero unless you can be like All Might. You think All Might is still the greatest hero because he did his time, right? He spent most of his life doing this already, but you’re nothing compared to that, right? You only had your Quirk for a short time. You only got to do so much. You’re wasted potential, and you’re useless.
"Before, when you even had a Quirk, you fucking… you believed in yourself more then than you do now, Deku! You were insane and determined and a shitty freak, but you wanted it. You want it, right, Deku?”
Izuku can’t respond, he’s crying too much, but Katsuki waits for him. Maybe he’s been proving this all along—that he’ll always wait for him.
Eventually, when Izuku’s tears slow down, he shakes his head. He’s… Katsuki doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand, not really. He’s trying to say that he understands the ache, but he doesn’t understand how grateful Izuku is for some of the memories. The way it felt to fly through the air and the way it felt for power to strum throughout his body, an electric current of capability that tasted of strength. Katsuki doesn’t—
“So, yeah, I resent him so much sometimes, Deku, because he gave you this Quirk, he pushed you as much as you wanted to be pushed, which is too much, it was too fucking much, and now you’re grieving his life. The life you envisioned for yourself. The life he entrusted to you.” Katsuki’s voice is wrecked now, and Izuku thinks they probably looks so strange, just two boys crying their eyes out in a park by a lake that Izuku’s so fond of now. He thinks he sees Kacchan reflected in each ripple of water.
“I-I wanted it, Kacchan,” Izuku hears himself say through his lingering tears. His voice is weak, but he knows Katsuki can hear the strength there. Izuku almost wants to ask for a fight instead—wants to prove to Katsuki that he can still fight, he can, he’s just… he’s tired. “You’re right, but it’s in the past now. I can’t think about it anymore or I’ll go insane, so please just… and I do want to be a teacher. You… you don’t think I’d be a good one?” He peeks up at Katsuki then, unable to resist the draw of Katsuki’s opinion.
Katsuki glowers at him. “And when the hell did I say that, Deku? Are you even listening to me?”
The anger that rushes through Izuku isn’t sudden, but it’s so intense that Izuku has to hold back from saying something he doesn’t mean. Katsuki always seems to do this; it’s like he wants to push Izuku’s buttons sometimes.
“I’m listening to you, Kacchan.” Izuku clenches his jaw. “I just don’t entirely agree with you. I’m okay, really. Sure, I was annoyed hearing that All Might paid for everything, that he and my mother went behind my back, but it’s not as I haven’t done the same thing to them. I’m grateful to them.”
Katsuki’s still glaring at him. “And what if he didn’t pay for anything? What would you have done?”
“What do you mean?” Izuku’s wiping at his face now, the remnants of his tears making his stomach turn. He can feel his anger still. Can feel it boiling at the surface. “Why can’t you just say what you mean, Kacchan? You always do this—it’s like you’re upfront with me, but you’re annoyed at me for not getting it myself. If you have a problem just tell me. I can’t… it hurts my feelings when you do things like this.” Katsuki’s expression shutters at that, and, instantly, Izuku wants to apologize. He doesn’t. “I can’t deal with your anger as well, Kacchan.”
There’s no immediate reply. In fact, Katsuki looks away from him again, staring back out at the lake. Izuku only watches him. He doesn’t want to hide this time.
“As well?” Katsuki finally asks, voice softer than it’s been. Ah, Izuku thinks. He’s trying to control himself too. For him.
“What?”
“You just said that you can’t deal with my anger ‘as well.’” Katsuki turns his entire body to look at him, moving one leg up on the bench, his knee colliding with Izuku’s thigh. Izuku’s breath catches. Had he said that? When did he say that? Why is—
“Uhm.”
Katsuki sighs. It’s a subdued breath of an emotion. “You’re angry, Izuku. It’s fucking annoying how you keep acting like you aren’t. And, whatever. Maybe you aren’t angry at All Might the same way I am. It’s not like I want to be, and I won’t be forever. But, you are. Angry. You keep carrying it around everywhere like some massive chip on your shoulder, and maybe you’re tricking everybody else, but I know you. I know you, and even if you don’t admit it, I won’t let you forget shit.”
“Kacchan.”
Katsuki reaches out, scooting even closer to Izuku, and he grabs at Izuku’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Izuku feels his entire body tense, feels the way his face warms, but Katsuki just holds on tighter.
“You’re a moron sometimes, shitty Deku. And, obviously, I don’t want you to change the person you are—I actually… kind of like it.” Izuku is sure his entire face is on fire right now. Katsuki’s blushing too; Izuku won’t forget the image of this for as long as he lives. “It just fucking sucks sometimes, Izuku. Worrying about you all the time.” He sighs again. “You’ll be a great teacher, alright? You’re a damn nerd and you care so much, and all those little brats will probably fall in love with you or some shit. I know that you’ll be happy doing it. I wasn’t trying to say that. Just like I wasn’t trying to say that All Might’s done something bad to you. And, fuck, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings either, okay? I don’t… I don’t ever want to hurt you again, Izuku.
"Like I said, it’s hard worrying about you. You don’t open up about anything, even if you claim you do. You talk about things and say things that you don’t realize sound fucking sad. You let others help you with basic tasks and hero work, but you don’t let them help you with anything else. Were you even planning on going to university, Izuku? I’ve never heard you say shit about that in our entire lives.”
Izuku blinks. Surely, he has…? He’s been thinking about it for a few months now, ever since All Might told him about it, and he supposes it did take him by surprise. A part of him almost wanted to start teaching immediately, but he knew that didn’t make any sense. But, when he was younger maybe? Izuku can’t remember. All he’s ever wanted to be was a… Izuku swallows. Not like it matters anyway.
Katsuki seems to take his silence as some kind of answer because he keeps talking. He’s still holding Izuku’s hand. Izuku still wants to comment on his hair.
“Yeah, so. I’m mad at him because you won’t be. He’s your hero, Izuku, and he’s mine, too, but you’re m—” Katsuki swallows, suddenly choking up. Izuku can feel his heart racing; he wonders where his heart is going. Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut, cheeks so flushed that Izuku wants to take them in his hands just to see if pulling at them would make them any redder than they are. Katsuki opens his eyes. “Ugh, never mind. What I’m trying to say is that you can’t stop, fuck, being yourself, okay, but I won’t let… you can’t stop living, Izuku. All Might isn’t the only one who can… who’s here for you.”
Izuku nods slowly and he feels that anger in him subside—a tide pulling back. Nothing has been resolved, though, not fully. He knows Katsuki knows this, too.
“I’m sorry, Kacchan.”
Katsuki’s eyes flash. “For what?”
“I don’t think I’ll stop worrying you any time soon. Not if this is what you think about everything.” Izuku shakes his head. “But this makes me so happy. And, yeah, maybe that’s weird? But it does. I like talking to you like this—I like you getting mad at me for not taking better care of myself. It means that you care about me. That you’re my friend. And,” he swallows, “obviously, we’ve been friends forever, but this is better, isn’t it? We’re getting better.”
Katsuki’s eyes are wide as he stares at him. Izuku wants to know so badly what he’s thinking about. Then, Katsuki’s smirking at him.
“Hah. Yeah, nerd, we’re getting better. Even if you piss me off all the time.”
Izuku laughs. “Yeah, sorry about that, too, I guess, but that’s also kind of a you thing? So.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “How about you try being your friend for once, Deku.”
“That’d be weird,” Izuku replies with a smile. Katsuki’s still holding his hand. He decides to be brave. “Can I cut your hair, Kacchan?”
Katsuki blinks. Then he grins, his dimple even showing itself. Izuku’s heart stutters.
“Yeah, but you can’t fuck it up or I’ll kill you and then fuck up your hair.” Katsuki eyes his head. “Well, even more than it is.”
Izuku laughs even harder at that. This has all been so weird, but as long as it’s him and Kacchan, he doesn’t truly care. He just doesn’t want Katsuki to leave him behind. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get around to saying that.
“You should really talk to All Might, by the way. I think he misses you.”
Katsuki grunts. “Yeah, I’m gonna. I have something to talk to him about anyway. I’m sure he’ll be interested.”
Izuku raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask about it. He’s kind of tired of talking about All Might for once.
“Have you seen Shouto’s new cat by the way? He got her last week.”
“Fuck, really? Show me.”
Izuku beams, pulling out his phone to pull up the two hundred photos Shouto’s been sending him. Katsuki shifts so he’s sitting upright again and pushes his body even closer to Izuku, leaning his head over his shoulder.
Maybe one day, he can’t help but think. Maybe one day I’ll tell him how selfish I really am. For wanting him in my life forever.
For now, he settles into the warmth of Katsuki by his side, an aching sort of devotion that tastes bittersweet lighting him up from within.
He’ll need to look up tutorials on how to cut hair when he gets home.