Archive of Our Own

Katsuki had become well acquainted with the feeling of waking up in a cold sweat. 

Ever since Kamino Ward, he’d been plagued almost nightly by fucking nightmares, ranging from All Might’s demise, to his own kidnapping, to not being saved in time. After the war, he’d had even more – Izuku dying. His classmates dying. Himself dying, and for good, this time. 

He’d never been more tired in his life. The last time he could remember getting more than three hours of sleep a night was the week before everything went to shit: middle school, the day before the sludge villain incident. 

He hated it. He was too tired to be angry, too tired to fight back, too tired to do anything other than listen to his doctors and try to ignore his mother’s disappointment being screamed at him down the hall. He didn’t visit home anymore, if he could help it. She’d get a text or two, if he felt like it – which was rare. He never bothered contacting his father. That old doormat didn’t need to hear from him.

Because of his healing being interrupted by nightmares, he wasn’t progressing as quickly as his classmates were. They were all starting to get back on their feet, gaining new moves and polishing old ones, while he was stuck doing exercises and physiotherapy on his arm. He was too tired to be angry about it, unable to feel the usual rush of anger-fueled adrenaline as he watched his classmates surpass him. 

Now, he sat upright in bed, breathing deep and slow, willing his racing heart to rest. If his heartbeat raised too quickly, beat too fast, Aizawa would get a ping on his phone and come check on him, and he’d rather avoid that embarrassment., logically, Katsuki knew that nightmares were normal – Aizawa had said so ages ago, when he’d found half of the class awake at one in the morning because they couldn’t get back to sleep. But he wasn’t weak.

Instead, he stood up and paced, grounding himself quietly. He was always able to bounce back into a state of tired calmness after nightmares, but feeling tired never equated to going back to sleep. He was too wound up, the pit of anxiety swirling in his gut keeping him awake and alert.

Looking at the clock, he read four thirty AM, and sighed. He’d be getting up in an hour anyway – it didn’t matter he’d only managed to sleep for just shy of two hours, this time. Quietly, he got up and got dressed, made himself breakfast, and settled in to do his physiotherapy exercises for the next hour.

He didn’t do them in front of people all the time, though it had happened more recently than at the start. He hated being watched, though, having an audience to his weakness. His mother was bad enough during his off-campus sessions, clicking her tongue as his improvements only came slowly. 

She never understood – the nightmares, the stress, the guilt. She’d been worried during the war, sure, but not enough to change her behaviour, clearly. For fucks sake, she almost lost her only child, and was still like this? Katsuki could not wait until he could move out.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a knock at the door, and glancing at the clock, Katsuki realised it was now seven in the morning, and classes were starting soon. 

He called out the door was unlocked, kicking his feet up onto his desk as he watched the door open.

“Well. I see you are not discriminatory in whose property you deface,” huffed Iida from the doorway, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. 

Katsuki smirked, leaning back. “And what, Four Eyes? Going to lecture me about it?”

“It’s your property,” Iida shrugged. “I don’t dictate how you treat what is yours.”

“...Sure,” Katsuki replied, then shook his head. “Why are you here?”

“Oh! I was merely wondering where you were. You are typically downstairs at this time every morning.”

“Had breakfast early,” Katsuki shrugged. 

“Well then, I see I worried for nothing,” Iida smiled.

“You don’t need to do that,” Katsuki dismissed with a scoff, turning back around and pulling out what he would need for the day. Iida, infuriatingly, stepped into his room, closing the door behind him. 

God. What the fuck does he want now?

“I’m not too sure I understand,” Iida frowned. “You are my classmate, and dare I say you have become somewhat of a friend, in the past couple of weeks. Why wouldn’t I worry?”

Katsuki, reeling a little from the admission of being called a friend, said nothing. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to react – he knew how he wanted to: anger, rage that he didn’t need friends, no matter how much of a lie that was. It was seven in the morning, for God’s sake. 

“I don’t need it,” Katsuki replied, his voice hard, yet quiet. “I’m not weak.”

“Never said you were,” Iida retorted. “I never will, either, Bakugou. You are the furthest thing from weak.”

“Sure,” Katsuki scoffed. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be downstairs in time to leave.. You can go now.”

“Of course,” Iida said, turning to leave. “As your class president, and your friend, I remind you that you can always reach out to me if you need anything.”

“As if.”

“Somehow,” Iida smiled, “I knew you’d say that. I’ll see you in class, Bakugou.

Four Eyes: Bakugou, would you perhaps like to work on the Response paper for English with me today?

Me: why the fuck would i? where’s your nerd squad?

Four Eyes: I believe they are at the mall, spending Endeavor’s money. I elected to stay behind and study, however, I typically work best with a partner.

Me: whatever. my doors open.

Ten minutes later Katsuki looked up from his bed to Iida opening the door, knocking softly on the wall as he entered the room. He sighed, grabbed his laptop, and slunk down to the floor against the foot of his bed, gesturing to the ground around him.

“Thank you,” Iida replied as he shut the door, as he too found a seat on the ground. 

“Whatever,” Katsuki grunted, grabbing the book their response was on for this term – The Picture of Dorian Gray. “Just don’t fucking distract me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Iida chuckled, pulling out his own copy.

They worked in silence – thank fuck – for about an hour, each engrossed in their own ways, getting through the book and the responses they had to create. Iida, true to his word, did not distract Katsuki at all, which was way more than he could ask for when studying with his own gaggle of idiots.

As much as Katsuki loathed to admit it, the company was actually nice. Iida had kept himself focused and silent, and Katsuki was able to, in turn, focus on his own work without having to help someone every three fucking minutes. Just having someone there was also stopping his brain from running a mile a minute, distracting himself from the thoughts of the war, his mother, the nightmares. 

Katsuki looked up to see Iida frowning at his screen, paused in his writing as he contemplated something.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Katsuki scoffed, looking over. “You look like you’ve eaten shit.”

“What a charming image,” Iida smiled. “But, no. I am just struggling on how to attach these two ideas together.”

“Which ones?” Katsuki asked, turning around fully and looking at his screen. As he read quickly, he had an idea. “Oh, use Oscar Wilde’s background to do that. It wasn’t exactly intentional, but his court case did influence the book post publishing.”

“His controversy?” Iida asked, looking up.

“Yeah? He went to court and was charged with Gross Indecency – The Picture of Dorian Gray was actually used as evidence.”

“Truly? That’s interesting.”

“Well, gay people were frowned upon,” Katsuki shrugged. “That’s basically what it was – the book has a lot of homoerotic subtext within it, and we were given the censored version. The original was worse.”

“I do agree there was…some homoerotic tension, Bakugou, but the characters in which that was aimed towards were less clear.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Katsuki scoffed. “Basil was gay as fuck, and it was literally halfway through chapter one when he started waxing all poetically about Dorian. The 2009 movie actually visualises it, too, so if you want to be all extra about it, watch the film and use it as a reference.”

“Have you done that?”

“No,” Katsuki shook his head. “Like I said, that’s extra.”

“Well, it is interesting nonetheless,” Iida replied, shaking his head. “Do you know how much information there is on Wilde’s controversy, then?”

“Google it,” Katsuki scoffed. “I know you know how – I’m not holding your hand for a response, of all fucking things.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” Iida smiled, “I was simply asking.”

“There’s a few,” Katsuki muttered after a minute, turning to his computer. “I can send you a couple links – a few I was going to use, but didn’t. They’re useful, though.”

“Thank you, Bakugou,” Iida smiled. “That is much appreciated.”

“Alright, Four Eyes, enough with the thanks,” Katsuki grumbled. “It’s nothing.”

“Helping your friends should always be appreciated.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki grumbled.

He ignored the feeling blooming in his chest as Iida spoke, the implication that they were friends dancing through his veins. He hated it, feeling like Iida of all people was someone he was friends with – hating the fact he liked it more.

Diligently, the two began to study again, and within the next two hours, they had finished their responses, and had taken to just sitting around with their computers abandoned next to them, talking into the evening. Katsuki found himself genuinely smiling and laughing, somehow able to see through Iida’s robotic movements and overly polite words.

“Come on, Glasses. You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly,” Iida succinctly responded.

“Seriously,” Katsuki scoffed. “There’s no way you haven’t considered committing arson at least once.”

“I can say with one hundred percent certainty that I have not,” Iida frowned, though the twinkle of amusement, Katsuki noticed, was back in his eyes. “That is illegal.”

“Says the one who attempted murder in broad daylight,” Katsuki barked a laugh. “That’s something people expected of me.”

“You go to bed at nine PM,” Iida deadpanned. “They absolutely did not expect that of you.”

“They did before the dorms, then,” Katsuki grinned. “Come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t think I was rebellious and stupid back then.”

“I had no such assumptions about you,” Iida replied, starting to smile. “I had never met you.”

“The first thing you ever said to me was lecturing me about the prestige of UA because I put my foot on my desk,” Katsuki deadpanned. “Are you sure?”

“You can blame my brother for that,” Iida laughed. “He was feeding me stories of how intense this school was – which, I will say, it is, but not for that reason.”

“I’m pretty sure Nedzu’s rules for teachers are purely for his own amusement, more than anything,” Katsuki mused. “I’ve caught Aizawa muttering about murder plans more than once.”

“Aizawa, I believe, is Nedzu’s favourite,” Iida chuckled. “Tensei tells me about their high school years over dinner sometimes.”

“They went to school together?”

“Yeah, they did,” Iida smiled. “I have known Aizawa for years now. It’s a little strange, going from seeing him incredibly drunk, to threatening to expel us only a couple of weeks later.”

“No way,” Katsuki barked a laugh, leaning back against his bed with his arm crossed. “I can’t imagine him drunk. Tired enough he looks it? Yes. Actually drunk? No.”

“You should come over when he, Tensei, and Yamada go drinking together,” Iida mused. “They typically stay the night in one of our guest rooms.”

“One of? I knew your family was rich, but Jesus.”

“I…am aware my family is more well-off than others,” Iida admitted with a shrug, “but it’s not something I typically advertise.”

“I mean, so is mine,” Katsuki shrugged. “My mother owns a well-known fashion company. She likes telling people we’re ‘comfortable,’ though. Makes her sound richer, apparently.”

“I promise you, it does not,” Iida laughed. “The richest people I have met wear socks and sandals.”

“That’s disgusting,” Katsuki scoffed. “A literal fashion crime.”

“I have never seen you wear anything other than t-shirts and sweatpants.”

“I do it to piss off my mother,” Katsuki grinned. “She makes it too easy.”

Around a week later on a Thursday found Katsuki running on four hours of sleep spanning across the duration of the week, and he was fucking tired. He had eyebags to rival Aizawa’s – which was the furthest thing from a compliment that he could give himself – a sluggish aura to the way he moved, and absolutely zero tolerance for bullshit. Which, given the group of extras he continuously graced with his presence – his friends, in the back of his mind – was almost impossible.

He felt himself start to drift slightly before class had even started, using the last of his energy to stay awake, rather than trying to focus on what was going on in all of his classes. 

Aizawa took one look at him and nodded, letting him know that he would get some leniency today, and Katsuki barely noticed him pulling out his phone – likely to text the rest of his teachers to take it easy on him today.

That had been happening for a while – every time he looked off in any way, shape, or form, he’d been given more leniency than usual. Of course, all of their classmates had been, this year, because…they were teenaged war veterans, and everything. But Katsuki? He’d been given more leniency on certain days than even Deku had, and the teen had lost his fucking quirk.

He hated it, no matter how helpful it had been throughout his time here. He hated feeling pitied, like they looked at him and saw something fragile.

By the end of the day, he was about to lose his fucking mind. Lunch was terrible to deal with – the entire school happily chatting, so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts – to now, in a study period with his class, Aizawa asleep on the floor in that abomination of a sleeping bag, and his class being loud as fuck.

He wanted to throw himself out of the fucking window. He couldn't focus, could barely even think with everyone talking to each other. Half of them had abandoned their desks and were standing by – or, in Kaminari’s case, sitting on – someone else's desk. 

Do these idiots know how to shut the fuck up?

Katsuki wasn’t registering anything other than his own heartbeat. He was trying to stay awake, which was easy now that there was so much external stimulation happening around him, and trying to – embarrassingly enough – not cry out of pure fucking frustration.

He didn’t even notice when Iida approached his desk, careful to speak quietly as he said: “Do you need to go somewhere quiet?”

Katsuki found himself nodding, taking any excuse to fucking leave, even if it was with Iida – though, he found himself almost melting with relief, with the fact it was Iida asking, and not anyone else. Not his friends, or Deku, or Momo. Iida. He pushed it out of his mind, refusing to focus on the meaning behind that thought, that feeling of relief.

Katsuki lifted his head blearily, watching as Iida wrote a quick note on the corner of Katsuki’s desk with a piece of paper that seemed to appear out of thin air, and watched as Iida dropped it on Aizawa’s desk, not even bothering to try and wake the man up.

“Come on,” Iida said, nodding to the door. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

Katsuki stood up, grabbing his bag as he did so – which had been left untouched since he’d sat down – and followed Iida out the door. His classmates didn’t notice the two of them leaving, too focused on their own conversations – and studying, for only two of them – to notice them leaving.

Katsuki assumed they’d be going to the library, or the field outside the front of the school. He had faith in Iida, though, and followed him without any question.

And then they walked past the library, through the field outside the school and right through the gate towards the school, only looking back once to make sure Katsuki was following him. 

He’d never skipped school before – and he could already hear the lecture his mother was going to give them for this, when he eventually would get caught.

Why did you skip? Being tired is no excuse, Katsuki. You’re training to be a hero, you can’t avoid your problems like this if you want to be the best. Stop acting so weak.

Katsuki pushed forth, catching up to Iida after he noticed he’d flagged behind in his shock, and his own anxious thoughts. He now had absolutely no idea where they were going, and truth be told, it was a little worrying.

“Didn’t take you for a skipper, Glasses,” Katsuki muttered, walking alongside Iida with less reluctance than he was planning to examine. “What did you write on that note, anyway?”

“That the two of us had chosen to continue our study period outside of the classroom,” Iida replied, proper as ever.

“We literally just walked out of campus,” Katsuki deadpanned.

“I never said we were staying on campus, Bakugou,” Iida replied, and his voice – barely noticeable, and Katsuki wondered when he’d started to notice it – had a lilt of amusement. “I haven’t lied.”

“Sure,” Katsuki snorted. “Where are we going?”

“Home,” Iida shrugged, if a little sheepishly. “Not to…offend you, Bakugou, but you look awful. You haven’t slept, have you?”

“I mean, I have, just not a lot,” Katsuki admitted quietly. “It’s hard to sleep, nowadays.”

“I know,” Iida said softly, which didn’t make Katsuki bristle with rage as it usually would. Iida had a way of not making his words sound like pity. It was something Katsuki was grateful for, above all else. “Which is why we’re going to mine.”

“How on earth are those related?”

“You need to sleep,” Iida replied, shrugging. “I have a bed, and zero desire to be in a noisy classroom.”

“You’re gonna make me have a nap,” Katsuki deadpanned, “in your bed?”

“At the very least, you will be lying down. Rest is better than nothing, if you can’t fall asleep. We will return to the dorms tonight.”

“They’re going to call your parents in a panic, and mine,” Katsuki muttered, looking down at his shoes. “The school, I mean. You’re not worried about that?”

“No, my mother will understand,” Iida replied. “I’m sure yours will too.”

“Oh, she’ll spin it so I won’t get in trouble,” he admitted, “but understand? No. I’m in line for a lecture.”

“For keeping track of your health?” Iida asked, and it was so clear to Katsuki that he was desperately trying not to sound scandalised, and he kind of hated it. 

“She doesn’t get it,” Katsuki sighed. “She never has.”

He refused to say anything more than that. How could he, when he hadn’t told anyone what she was really like behind closed doors? That her love language tended to be words of cruelty, rather than affection? How could he tell anyone that his father loved him, but not enough to stop her? How on earth was he supposed to put that into words, and with Iida, no less?

He was thankful for the then silent walk to Iida’s house, able to calm his racing heart before they walked in the door. He’d been here before, but he hadn’t seen anyone else that day – they’d been out on errands, apparently. Katsuki wondered, briefly, if Iida had asked them to leave.

“Tenya? Is that you?” Katsuki heard a woman call out from…somewhere in the house as he and Iida took off their shoes, and flinched minutely. He had no idea how the woman would react, even though Iida had said she’d be fine with it…in a way. 

Jesus Christ. What was he doing?

“Yes, mum, it’s me,” Iida replied, and Katsuki was slightly taken aback by the lack of formality, before mentally slapping himself. That is literally his mother. Get your shit together.

“You alright?”

“My classmates were being needlessly loud during study period,” Iida sighed. “We decided to come here to escape.”

“We?” his mother asked, finally coming into view and spotting Katsuki, the picture perfect state of awkwardness, standing next to Iida. She took one look at his eyebags, and a dawning look of understanding filled her eyes. But she didn’t look pitying – just understanding. It was a stark contrast to his mothers own disappointment, at any rate.

“Mum, this is Bakugou Katsuki. Bakugou, this is my mother.”

“Iida Tomiko,” she smiled, “though you can call me Tomiko – lord knows there’s too many of us to keep using our family name.”

“I…okay,” Katsuki said, taken aback by the overall lack of formality in this household. Growing up, his mother had all but drilled politeness and respect for his elders into him – and he had quickly learnt that the consequences for not doing so weren’t exactly favourable. 

“Do you boys want some food, or are you just going to head up to your room and study?”

“I think we’ll just head up,” Iida smiled, “but I’ll come and grab something if we get hungry.”

“All right,” she laughed, turning to walk away. “Enjoy your silence, boys!”

Iida walked Katsuki upstairs after that, his hand hovering at Katsuki’s lower back – not quite touching, but not quite away, either. It was just…there, and Katsuki was becoming all too aware of it in a sluggish, over tired way.

“Alright,” Iida said softly, “If you want something more comfortable, you can borrow one of my hoodies, if you’d prefer to change. It…might be a bit large, though.”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki said, walking in behind Iida. His room was exactly how he expected it to be: clean, modern chic, and very nerdy. There were books after books after books lining shelves pressed against the wall, piles of them on his desk, a couple on his bedside table. “...I wouldn’t mind a hoodie, though. Your house is cold.”

“Yeah, my dad likes it that way,” Iida laughed softly. “I’ll get one for you – and relax, would you? Nothing in here will bite you.”

“Thanks,” Katsuki muttered, standing awkwardly, unsure of what he should do with himself.

“Here,” Iida said, holding it out. “Would you like some help with your blazer?”

Katsuki nodded, his face flushing with embarrassment. He couldn’t really fathom what was happening right now, through the fogginess of his tired mind. He was still dealing with the whiplash of the day's events: Iida ditching class with him and lying to a teacher about it, Iida acting…soft – all of it. He was so confused.

And…he didn’t hate it. He thought he’d hate people treating him like this – like he was weak, like he would break, his mothers harsh, disappointed words echoing in the back of his brain – but Iida had a way of talking to Katsuki in a soft tone that made him feel safe.

What the fuck are you doing, Katsuki? Get a fucking grip on yourself.

Iida dutifully walked over, his touch soft as he carefully pulled the blazer off of Katsuki’s shoulder’s, careful to not budge his ever-aching arm.

“Would you like help getting the hoodie on, too?”

“Please,” Katsuki mumbled, reaching out to grab it, ignoring his embarrassment.

“Of course,” Iida murmured, gently taking the hoodie out of Katsuki’s hand as he started fumbling with it.

The boy did not comment on Katsuki’s clear embarrassment, thank fuck. It was awkward enough struggling to get ready alone every morning, with that extra half an hour spent just getting clothed every morning, but with someone else it was even worse.

Katsuki hated how weak it all made him feel, and he must have shown it on his fucking face because Iida, without prompting, said quietly: “You’re not weak for asking for help, Bakugou.”

Katsuki didn’t speak – how could he, when the least likely person he thought would ever be speaking softly to him, just told him exactly what he needed to hear?

“I mean it,” Iida continued. “You’re so much stronger than you give yourself merit for.”

Katsuki huffed out a breath, and still said nothing. Iida chuckled low in his throat, straightened the neckline of the hoodie, and coaxed Katsuki to his bed, softly telling him to lie down.

Katsuki lay down and closed his eyes, the exhaustion he’d felt the entire week slamming into him. He really didn’t want to move, now that he’d laid down, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to wake up, either, if he managed to fall asleep. 

He startled slightly as he felt the bed sag next to him, and blearily opened his eyes to see Iida’s hip right next to his fucking face, sitting on the bed next to him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Studying,” Iida replied simply, shrugging a shoulder. “I wasn’t lying when I said I preferred quiet, Bakugou.”

“You have a desk right there.”

“I’m only reading,” Iida smiled, looking down at Katsuki’s frowning face. The blond only scowled, though it had less heat to it than usual. “I don’t need my desk for that.”

“Fucking…whatever,” Katsuki grumbled, turning onto his back. 

Iida chuckled and they fell into silence for a moment, the boy immersed in his book. Katsuki stared at the ceiling, tiredness seeping deep in his bones, and trying not to fight the sleep he could feel coming, though it wasn’t a totally conscious decision.

“How much sleep have you had?” Iida asked, quietly breaking the silence.

“About four hours, I think?” Katsuki mumbled, not looking over.

“Four hours a night is…certainly not enough sleep to get you energised for the day.”

“Oh,” Katsuki huffed, his voice quieter than he thought he’d ever spoken before, “it was four hours in as many days.”

“What?”

“I told you I didn’t get a lot of sleep. I wasn’t lying to you.”

“I didn’t think you were, Bakugou,” Iida frowned. “That is simply…worrying.”

“Mhm,” Katsuki mumbled. “It's hard to fall asleep when your nightmares wake you up almost instantly. It’s not like I don’t try.”

Iida hummed, letting silence befall them once more. Katsuki continued staring at the wall. He couldn’t help it – sleep was so close, and yet his mind was running a mile a minute, going over scenario after scenario. 

What if I have another nightmare, and wake up screaming? What if I bother Glasses by being here? What the fuck is my mother going to say when she finds out I skipped school because I was fucking tired, of all things? 

Katsuki was jolted out of his thoughts as a hand made its way to his hair, carding through the messy strands with a softness he didn’t expect. He turned and looked up, seeing Iida’s face still studiously in his book, though he was now holding it with one hand.

So. not dreaming, then.

“You were thinking too loud,” Iida said, not even looking at Katsuki. “You need to rest.”

“And that constitutes you…”

“I can stop, if you are uncomfortable,” Iida said, turning to look at Katsuki with an inquisitive look.

“...It’s fine,” Katsuki mumbled. He closed his eyes again, letting himself only start to relax under the gentle touch of Iida’s hand in his hair. He didn’t expect to feel so at ease, lying here like this. He was vulnerable and he knew it, and for some reason, he really couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Just sleep, Bakugou,” Iida said softly. “Don’t stress about anything else right now.”

Katsuki hummed, and relaxed fully, his forehead now pressing into Iida’s hip. He still couldn’t bring himself to care. Iida continued to run his fingers through his hair, and Katsuki felt himself fall into the sleep he so desperately craved.

It was only when the two of them were walking back to the dorms, after Iida’s mother had knocked on the door softly and told them it’d better be time to go less they miss dinner, that he realised – for the first time since Kamino Ward, he’d slept a full five hours without having a single nightmare.