Work Text:
Katsuki dragged his feet into the hall, not wanting to leave Izuku’s side but knowing he needed rest. The harsh fluorescent lighting of the hospital halls burned his tired eyes.
Fuck, crying is exhausting. How does Izuku do this shit?
Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugou were waiting outside the door, holding his intravenous pole steady.
“Katsuki, are you–”
“I’m fine,” Katsuki wiped his eyes and scowled. “Don’t baby me.”
“Son, we’re just worried–”
“Don’t.” Katsuki’s answer was soft, crackling like the top of an icy lake waiting to shatter under the weight of his words. “I’m fine.”
He grabbed the pole and used it to steady himself. “I’m going to take a walk.”
“Do you need us to come with you?” Masaru asked while Mistuki’s jaw feathered, words willing to escape that she was viciously biting back.
“I just–need a minute okay? I’m fine. Really.” Katsuki took a breath and shrugged his good shoulder. “Seriously, thanks. I…need a minute.”
“Okay,” Mistuki said, leaning against her husband, her eyes glassy. “Whatever you need, Katsuki. We love you.”
Katsuki knew they did. He always knew. But in his house, actions always spoke louder than words so hearing it verbalised made his chest ache.
“Yeah, me too.” He huffed, tightening his grip around the pole and walking down the corridor.
Heroes occupied the halls, the beds, the waiting rooms. The war was over but the time for recovery had just begun. These things weren’t linear. Katsuki expected to feel some kind of relief when he woke up, knowing it was over and driven to get his hand back into peak physical condition. After all, that’s what Izuku would do—
Izuku
Deku had become the name of a hero. Seeing him there, in a hospital bed next to All Might, putting on a brave face while realising his dream was slipping away and coming to peace with that. Katsuki knew he was strong, but that kid was resilient.
It wasn’t fair.
Deku was a hero. He was Katsuki’s hero. He deserved to live his dream.
Before he knew it, Katsuki had rounded the corner and was met with the faint whiff of hospital coffee. He had overshot his mark, he intended to go for a short walk and then stumble back to his room, not make it all the way to the nurses station on the other side of the ward. The white plastic chairs sat against the wall, leading to a dead end. He’d walked the whole way across the ward without thinking.
Typical overachiever Katsuki. His mother was going to kill him.
“Katsuki Bakugou, is that you?” A familiar soft voice sent a shiver up Kastuki’s spine. With stiff shoulders he spun in place to find Inko Midoriya, tea in hand, exiting the nurse's room. She looked so much like her son, those wide green eyes and soft smile. It made his chest ache.
“Hello Mrs. Midoriya.” He mumbled, scuffing the toe of his slipper against the linoleum floor.
“Look at you. The last time I saw you this close you barely reached my knees.” She smiled softly. “I just popped by to visit some old friends while he rested. Your mother says you’re recovering well.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Katsuki hung his head, counting every speckled dot on the linoleum floor.
“Please, Katsuki, you can call me Inko. You’ve known me long enough.” Inko began to close the gap between them and Katsuki took a step back. She dipped her head to look him in the eye, reaching out for his wrist.
Everything was blurry and warm and Katsuki thought he was going to throw up.
“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Inko reached up and wiped away a stray tear that had escaped down his cheek.
“I’m so sorry.” Katsuki didn’t know what happened. It was like talking to Izuku earlier had opened the floodgates. “I’m so sorry I let Izuku get hurt. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for him. I tried my best and now he’s lost his quirk. I thought we’d be chasing each other forever. I thought I’d be fighting at his side, and now he’s lost One For All and he’s pretending everything is okay and I can’t help him. If I had gotten there sooner, if I hadn’t gotten hurt, if I had stopped him getting pulled away by the warp, then maybe—but it’s all my fault and–”
Inko grabbed Katsuki and pulled him tight to her chest. His words broke off and he stiffened. But slowly, surely, as though snow melting in the spring when cherry blossoms come to bloom he melted into her arms, crouching down to cry into her shoulder.
“How do you and Izuku cry like this all the time? It’s fucking exhausting.” He gave a watery laugh.
Inko chuckled. “Practice.”
She rubbed circles in Katsuki’s back until his panicked breathing slowed and stood straighter. Katsuki released her from his grip, not realising he had been clutching at her pink cardigan the whole time and noticing the damp patch on her shoulder.
“Sorry, he mumbled.
Inko narrowed her eyes. “Katsuki Bakugou, you have nothing to be sorry about.” Her stern tone shook him out of his melancholy. She moved them toward the plastic chairs and patted for him to sit down next to her. He awkwardly sat at the edge of the seat while Inko grabbed the hand closest to her.
“It’s hard to believe how much you and Izuku had to grow up, and how quickly. To me you’re still the two little boys running around playing heroes in your backyard, pretending to be All Might.” Tears sprang into Inko’s eyes. “Sometimes I wish you didn’t have to grow up so fast, but the world isn’t always that kind. But you, Katsuki Bakugou, are not to blame for the failings of a society that forced you to fight to the bitter end. I watched you come back and fight by my son’s side. I saw you do everything in your power to protect him, pushing him forward, helping him live his dream, and then coming home to me. I’m so grateful that you and my Izuku are here in one piece–” She looked toward Katsuki’s right arm. “More or less. Katsuki, I’m so proud of you, I hope you know that.”
“Don’t.” He huffed.
“Don’t what?” Inko asked, refusing to let go of Katsuki’s hand as he tried to pull away.
“Don’t be proud of me. I was cruel, I said things to Izuku out of jealousy and bitterness, because he didn’t even have to try. He was already a hero. I thought he was looking down on me–”
“Izuku would never–”
“I know that now, but it’s how I felt.” His voice caught. “I just wish I could go back and start over.”
“We can’t change the past, but we can change what happens going forward.”
“I don’t get why Izuku still wants to be my friend after all this time.” Katsuki huffed. His ears burned a little when he heard Inko softly chuckle.
“I guess you both have some growing up to do.” Her smile was knowing and it made Katsuki’s pulse beat harder. “My Izuku has always looked up to you. You were his hero, even before you knew what that meant. Now you do, and I’m glad you’re there for him.”
Inko released Katsuki’s hand and touched him softly on the cheek. “Thank you for being there for my baby.”
“I’ll always be there for Izuku. I’ll be by his side for the rest of our lives. Whatever he needs.” Katsuki said with certainty, and a stray tear dripped from Inko’s eye.
“I’m glad he has you. Now, let’s go find your mother before Mitsuki burns down the hospital ward wondering where you are, shall we?”
Inko stood, grabbed the pole and moved it to the side to help Katsuki. Before she moved, Katsuki stood up and caught her again, pulling her into a tight hug and wrapping her tight in his arms.
“Thank you.” He said softly. Inko patted him gently on the back.
“Anything for Izuku’s Kacchan.”