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Humid coolness was coming from the sea. The air tasted salty, and at the same time sweet, like the first breath after a long ascent from the depths.
Kacchan stood at the very edge of the water and looked at the waves. Even though he was facing the sea, Izuku recognized him right away. By his hair, of course, and also because he would always recognize him.
Izuku hurried over to him. If Kacchan had continued standing with his back to him, Izuku would probably have covered Kacchan’s eyes with his hands like in the movies, only to get a rear elbow strike to the belly (actually, anything was better than an explosion right into the ear, a ruptured eardrum, and a few days of deafness) and then listen to him ranting for half of the evening about what an incredible idiot Izuku was.
But Kacchan turned towards Izuku, as if sensed that he was close.
“How long am I supposed to wait for you, Deku?!” he said, feigning indignation, although his eyes were laughing. The sun illuminated his irises in a special way, making them dark-brown along the ring, but leaving the center around the pupil fiery red. Beautiful. Izuku suddenly felt like crying. His nose itched, his eyes watered, blurring his vision, and he tried to blink away the tears. Now Kacchan would call him a crybaby again and he would probably be right. It was just, well... This beach, and the sunset, and Kacchan.
“I hurried as fast as I could,” Izuku replied, somehow feeling like he was lying, even though he would never do so. Why would he lie to Kacchan about something so trivial? Was there ever a situation where Izuku wouldn’t rush to him? Even when Kacchan was consumed with his never-ending urge to find out who was tougher, even when he beat Izuku and left burns on him, even when Izuku was quirkless and didn’t know how to counter his inexplicable rage, he still rushed to Kacchan. Always.
Izuku felt uneasy. This uneasiness was deep-seated, not tied to the surrounding environment. One was worried like that while boarding a plane about an iron left plugged in at home. One was residually worried like that about a disaster that could have happened, but which had passed at the very last moment. Izuku tried to figure out what exactly was bothering him, but nothing came to mind. Well, he didn’t have his Danger Sense anymore, so, most likely, it was his excessive relaxation that was making him nervous. Stupid professional deformation: when everything was normal, it felt disturbing.
There certainly was a reason for all that fuss about work-life balance. Izuku couldn’t remember the last time he had taken a vacation. Or even a day off...
He glanced around making sure no one was looking, and quickly kissed Kacchan on the corner of his lips. Usually, Izuku wouldn’t do this in public – you never knew who might see it and start blabbering about it – but right now he really wanted to. Everything in him was humming in unison with his heartbeat: “Do it, do it,” – and so he did... The manifestation of feelings could have infuriated Kacchan at a blink of an eye, but he endured it with unusual complaisance. After that, he turned back to the water and stared at it, enchanted.
Izuku followed suit, surprised to realize how much he missed the sea. It had been a while since he had been to the coast last time. Before, when he’d come here, he would always feel better. Freer. The steady beat of waves assured of the world following an internal logic that held its parts together, preventing them from falling apart and drowning in madness.
Izuku shifted his gaze from the water sparkling in the sun’s rays to the shoreline. All the obsolete things congregated there: half-opened shells of purple mussels rotten in the heat, a dead crab with a torn-off claw, clumps of dry seaweed, plastic waste. How did all this fit in with the internal logic of the world? Was it supposed to go away so that something new could take its place? But it didn’t go anywhere. It was just laying there, decomposing in the sun.
“Don’t make that face,” Kacchan said sharply. “This is normal.”
“I just... Isn’t it sad?” Izuku nodded at the remains of the clams. Every time a wave reached the shore, it crashed into them, foaming and pushing them a little further onto the sand. Out of the sea.
“No. It’s natural. It was meant to be that way.” Kacchan glanced over his shoulder at Izuku. He no longer seemed annoyed, but rather mused. “See those islands in the distance? I wonder what’s there.”
Izuku had lived in Musutafu for as long as he could remember, but he had never paid attention to the islands, as if they had never existed before. But they were definitely there right now, rocks reminiscent of the last remaining teeth of an ancient dinosaur, violet against the sunset haze. Izuku probably just hadn’t been noticing them. He had always been too caught up in his special interests to pay enough attention to ordinary things.
“Want to go there this weekend and find out?” Izuku suggested, partly indulging his own curiosity. Besides, he wanted to spend some time with Kacchan. A whole day just the two of them.
“That would be cool,” Kacchan shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “We haven’t gotten outdoors in a while... It's the always busy Deku!”
“Well, now I’m totally free,” Izuku shrugged, and the feeling as if he was missing an important thing vibrated in him again. “But it seems like I keep forgetting something.”
“You know how they say? If it’s something important, it’ll come back to you,” Kacchan said thoughtfully, picking at the sand with the toe of his sneaker, then looked at Izuku and grinned, showing off his beautiful white teeth. “Just like I did.”
“Makes sense.” It sounded very logical. Although, it wasn’t like Kacchan had gone anywhere to come back from. Was it? “Well, what shall we do now?”
“Let’s go get some grub. I’m starving.”
“What would you like?”
“Mazesoba. You?”
“Mazesoba will do.”
“And when we are back home, maybe we’ll finally fuck?” Kacchan asked, looking away and frowning, as if he wasn’t talking about sex at all. He looked so adorably embarrassed. “I can’t even remember the last time we fucked.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Izuku replied, blushing. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d made love either. “And on Saturday we’ll go to the islands,” he added.
Kacchan nodded, and without saying a word, they walked along the coast, occasionally brushing their hands against each other. The sun was slowly sinking into the water.
*** *** ***
The Vice-President of the renewed Hero Public Safety Commission Haruaki Fuyu knocked on the door of the ward three times, as required by etiquette, and without waiting for an answer he poked his head inside:
“Sorry to bother you, Doctor Ito. The Commission is worried about our number one hero.”
“He is on artificial ventilation. Total cerebral necrosis. His heart is still beating, but his brain is dead. Hero Deku is basically a living corpse.”
Mr. Haruaki did not like hospitals. He did not like the green walls, the cold white light, the incomparable smell of disinfectants and failing bodies. His job required him to visit hospitals more often than he would have liked to, and these visits inevitably made him think about the finiteness of existence. Mr. Haruaki was fifty-one. He was beginning to worry that he would not reach the President’s position in the next decade.
“Maybe you could just transplant him a new brain?” Mr. Haruaki asked ingratiatingly.
A new brain! A simple, elegant solution worthy of the next President of the Commission. Significant progress had been made in medicine in recent years.
“Unfortunately, the technology of creating Nomu has been lost.”
“Fuck...” Mr. Haruaki cursed under his breath. “My apologies. The guy has already caused us trouble, and now this... On the other hand,” he suddenly felt a surge of inspiration, “after Dynamite’s death Hero Deku wasn’t socially active. He gave up teaching, kept ignoring all events. The Commission was already starting to think that all those nasty rumors were true! The demand for merchandise has dropped. We can’t sell a hero who hides from people, even if he is number one! And besides, he is quirkless, did you know?”
“Of course,” the doctor responded with a hint of disdain. “It’s written on the first page of his medical record.”
Mr. Haruaki was not offended by his tone. The puzzle was complete; the future looked promising, like the size of the salary after promotion.
“Let’s just give Deku’s suit to someone else. What difference does it make who’s inside if their face is hidden by a mask… Great. Excellent. Problem solved. The Commission will be pleased.”
“And what should we do with this one?” The doctor nodded at the body of the number one hero.
“Well, how do you think...” Mr. Haruaki spread his hands. “Turn off life support.”