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“Kacchan, slow down,” Izuku huffs, but the boy in front of him continues hiking up frost-layered rocks and stomping shoeprints into thick snow. Izuku attempts to place his own, less heavy-duty boots into Kacchan’s tracks but just ends up tripping anyway.
This late in winter, everything is painted a bright, glistening white, sparkling as if crushed crystals powder every surface. The sky is pale in a calm moment, tucking its vibrancy away for later months. A light wind plays with their hair and scarves, strands tangling and twining.
Two boys and two animals pick their way through this pure, undiluted landscape, every sounding crunch swallowed by the snow and trees. Izuku is stunned at the beauty of it, aware that Kacchan, secretive by nature, is intentionally sharing this with him. It feels special. His heart skips a few beats at the thrill.
“Hell no. You hurry up.”
Izuku is absolutely freezing. He pouts at the typical Kacchan reply.
Since that dark, emotion-filled night at Ground Beta, they’d grown closer. Airing out the buried-deep misunderstandings and silently vowing to improve their relationship had led to tentative conversations, followed by casual hangouts, followed by… this. Izuku tries to tamp down his excitement in case whatever greater power decided to softly taint his life in a rosy, ethereal glow wanted to reverse its decision.
A flash of speeding fur catches his attention to the right, a whirlwind of claws and teeth and muscle against the snowy landscape.
Is spotting a wolf in the woods scary to other people? It just reminds Izuku of Kacchan. This wolf butts its side up against its owner, causing the explosive boy to stumble slightly with a bursting spring of curses.
“Fang, what the fuck,” Kacchan seethes, but his anger isn’t real. The wolf, too, has a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
“He loves you, Kacchan,” Izuku calls, voice muffled by the snow. “He’s just playing around.”
“He can love me without bowling me over,” the other boy grumbles while reaching out a hand to ruffle the wolf’s fur, a grudging gesture of affection.
A low huff sounds from behind him and Izuku glances behind at his own animal, a large ram sporting thick, curled horns and experienced hooves which, specially built for terrain just like this, cut into clinging ice with a natural ambivalence.
Izuku had written a non-fiction expo on the beautiful creature once, uncreatively named Horns, who was only half-grown at the time. Digging through all the textbooks in the library had wholly consumed him until publication. Kacchan, grumpy at all the time Izuku was spending holed up in the library alone, had dragged him out to a night of arcade-hopping afterwards. It had been fun.
“Do you remember when he was a pup?”
Fang, full name Lord Fang Murder Kill Bite, (chosen by five-year-old Kacchan in all his creative glory), had been a rambunctious pup. Weighing less than ten pounds when Kacchan and Izuku were five or six, he’d been too small to knock them over, but that certainly did not stop him from trying. Relentlessly.
“’Course I do. You’ve always loved knocking me over, huh, Fang?”
The wolf cocks his head innocently back at him before loping away once more into the snow-piled roots of barren trees. Years ago, before they grew apart in middle school, they’d named their animals together, two starry-eyed boys in cahoots spending all hours of their summer days together.
They’re currently hiking up a frozen river, it being the only thing that has any footing or hold in the multiple-feet high snow. While more dangerous, which Kacchan clearly does not mind, it’s much faster. Izuku wonders what happened to the creatures who swam in that river during the summer. Are there fish trapped down there? He’d seen many fling their slimy bodies above the surface and submerge themselves again with a stinging splash. It feels a little lonely on this river without them.
“Almost there, nerd. Keep up.”
Izuku has literally never rock climbed like this before in his life. Sue him for being a little slow. He wants to say exactly that but refrains.
Maybe a little bit of him is slightly hesitant, still a little scared of the old Kacchan coming back. He knows the other boy has been working hard on their relationship, on being better to him and dealing with his anger and fears in more healthy ways, but it’s hard to not anticipate a bite from a snake when you’re covered in scars. But Kacchan isn’t like that anymore. He isn’t.
On the bright side, the other part of him is enthusiastically raptured by this new, budding relationship, hints of colorful petals showing under layers of thick snow. There’s a light flush on Kacchan’s cheeks, a pretty rosy pink which makes Izuku’s breath catch in his throat. He’d always been content to admire from afar, but recently he’s been feeling these selfish urges of wanting more.
He’s just so strong, so determined, so confident… all things that make Izuku want to curl up in a little ball in bed and scream his hopeless heart out.
“Kacchan, what are those blueish rocks over there?”
“Chichibu-ao.” They jaggedly cut down a small cliff to the river before submerging under the surface, shimmering white under interlocked layers of frost.
“...But what is that?”
“A rock. Also, don’t you have a piece to write before we get back?”
Yes — he did. It was partly why they had chosen this weekend in particular to go hiking. Izuku wrote an informational piece for the school newspaper every month. It had started out with him deep-diving into the things he was interested in, not really expecting much out of it, but somehow had snowballed into gaining a cult-like following. It had been surprising, but Izuku is super glad to know that others at U.A. enjoyed learning just as much as he does!
“I think it’d be really fun to write about the things that survive the winter here!”
“Like the trees n’ shit?”
“No, the plants! Look at that one over there!” Izuku points a gloved hand over to one mature, deep-green bush spotted with berries.
“That bush?”
“Yes! Like, what is this berry?” It’s bright red. It looks delicious, ripe, with a smooth surface.
“Yew,” the blond boy replies, glancing briefly at them. Then he promptly smacks Izuku’s hand away. Ouch. “Poisonous. Don’t eat.”
Seconds later, Kacchan pops a berry in his mouth and smirks. Izuku squeaks in alarm. “What? Kacchan, don’t eat that! What are you doing? You just said it’s poisonous!!”
“Mm, tasty. A little bit coppery.” The other boy makes exaggerated chewing motions, clearly deriving joy from Izuku’s distress.
“Kacchan! Stop it!” He knows Kacchan just likes to mess with him sometimes, but this is a little too far. Safety is important. They’re nowhere near any medical help! What is he thinking? Izuku has no idea how to get back down this mountain even with the animals’ help…
After chewing long enough to give Izuku lasting cardiovascular issues, Kacchan slowly reaches up to his mouth, spits out the seed, and swallows the rest of the berry. Still smirking like an annoying, smug––
“The berry’s the only part that isn’t poisonous,” he laughs. “Don’t even think about trying one. I don’t trust you not to accidentally swallow the seed, dork.”
“Hey! That wasn’t funny!”
“Mmm, no, it was. But I’m serious. The rest of the plant is very, incredibly poisonous.”
Izuku shakes his head in disbelief. Why does he always tease him like this?
“Kacchan… you really shouldn’t…”
Izuku’s ram butts up against him in consolation. Thanks, buddy.
But after that, Izuku for some reason no longer feels cold. They were called yew berries, right? He’s excited to write the column piece on this mountain. Who knew there were so many fruits around in winter! Ignoring the fact he thought Kacchan was about to die, it’s a pretty interesting berry. If Kacchan died from the berry, while it would make a very effective warning to readers to stay away, it would also be very, tragically devastating. So… yeah. Not net positive.
Wait, aren’t there all sorts of writers who are only geniuses because of tragedies?
“Hey, Kacchan,” Izuku says next in all seriousness, “if you died from eating a poisonous berry, do you think I would become a famous writer?”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, like if I channeled my grief over your death into my writing, do you think my writing would become plus ultra and I’d be a modern Poe?”
“It was Poe’s wife that died.”
“Well, she was also his cousin, but yeah.” I guess Kacchan would… would…
Izuku’s face flames red at that train of thought. Would Kacchan dying be the equivalent of a wife dying? Is Kacchan a wife?!
“You saying I’d be your dead Victorian wife-muse?”
“N-no!” Yes.
Kacchan just scoffs and turns back to the path, and the pair continue their hike in a light, amused silence.
After a few more minutes, Izuku passes a rock, clears some branches and brambles, and suddenly stops in shock at the sight. The sky, mottled with blue and white and dashes of orange-pink emerges out from where it was hiding from view. A few stray clouds drift across the vast expanse of the world set out far below them, foggy and jagged with trees. Kacchan is staring triumphantly at him, spiky locks outlined against a light sky. Their animals spring around, starting up a joyful session of playful tussling around in the snow, kicking up drifts.
Katsuki and Izuku lock eyes, panting slightly in the cold air and huffing white clouds, grinning in the sudden brightness and freedom from the forest. A strong wave of emotion suddenly hits him square in the chest. He’s so glad to be here with Kacchan, so glad to even have the hope back again.
“Kacchan,” he says, to which the other boy turns around and looks at him curiously. “I’m really happy. Thank you for, um, taking me here. It means a lot to me that we can do things as friends again.” He meant it with his whole heart and hopes Kacchan feels the same.
But… Kacchan’s expression briefly flicks to an expression Izuku can’t identify. Had he said something wrong?
“Yeah, ’Zuku. Me too,” is all he says before turning around and walking down the ridge. “C’mon.”
Confused, Izuku follows. Did he do something wrong already? Horns appears next to him, providing silent support and a warm wool coat to dig his fingers into. Everything is fine. Probably. They head down across the edge of the summit, trudging through bushes and ducking under low branches with their packs.
Where are they going? Izuku doesn’t know what Kacchan has cooked up as an itinerary, but he can’t wait to find out. A Kacchan surprise is always a good one.
They finally push through one extra layer of forest before Kacchan steps aside, holding a low branch up for Izuku to pass underneath. They must be here.
When Izuku emerges from the forest, he nearly gasps. “Kacchan!” In front of them is a wide, glistening sheet of ice, pale blue and reflecting the sun in hot beams. “Are we going ice skating?”
A snort sounds from behind him. “No,” he says. “But we can if you really want.”
“It’s okay, Kacchan! What do you have planned here?”
There’s no response. He can almost hear him smirking. Oh, no. What does he have planned?
“...Kacchan?”
“Just follow me.” In a rustle of heavy clothing, the other boy walks past him and down towards the shore, leaving shin-deep bootprints in his wake. Izuku plants his own smaller boots in the holes and follows.
Once they reach the shore, Kacchan dumps his heavy brown pack on the ground abruptly and turns around with a wicked grin. Oh, no. “Alright. Time to earn your food.”
“Earn?” Izuku asks, brows knitting already. Is it wrong to be vaguely––no, majorly––concerned about whatever Kacchan has planned?
“Hell yeah. We’re going fishing. Why did you think you were carrying all that fishing shit?”
Uhh… he hadn’t realized it was fishing gear. “Oh! Um, I… sure. That sounds fun. Yup.” Gulp. “Just, a… silly question, ahhh… how do I fish?”
Kacchan raises his eyebrows. Really?
Izuku sputters trying to come up with an excuse but Kacchan just tilts his head back and laughs. It’s a nice sound.
“Guess you didn't have a dad. Fine, I’ll teach you. C’mon.”
Kacchan swiftly unfurls their packs and, with the air of an expert, begins setting up all the equipment. “D’you remember when we were kids and you tried to put a hole in the ice so the fish could breathe?”
“Kacchan!” Izuku gasps, but the other boy just laughs raucously. “Okay, that was so valid, and I stand by that. Shame on you for letting them drown.”
“Izu.”
That name… “What?”
“They don’t drown. They’re fucking fish.”
Izuku turns an embarrassed red. Of course he knows that. What the heck! “I meant when we were kids, that’s what I thought, and it’s totally valid because I was just being empathetic towards nature, which we should really protect, and didn’t you ever think it was strange how you couldn’t see the fish during winter?”
Kacchan is smirking. Oh. He was just messing with him. “You’re fun to tease. You get so red.”
“O-oh,” he replies intelligently. “I do?”
“Yeah. ’S kinda cute.”
Oh. Okay. Yeah. Okay. Izuku can feel his cheeks flaming and looks down, trying to avoid the moment. Trying to force the heat out of his cheeks –– heck, it’s winter, for goodness sake, just cool off –– is an impossible task.
He finally drags his vision back up. Kacchan is looking at him, those fiery red eyes flaming with some greater emotion. Time starts to drip a little slower.
Suddenly, an entire pile of snow rains down on them. “Ack!”
“Fang! You little shit,” Kacchan growls, more snow than person, covered in white, powdery layers. The two animals ignore them entirely, continuing to wrestle and kick up more snow in their faces.
“It’s like a snowstorm,” Izuku laughs through the onslaught. “Remember how we used to build forts and bully the other kids?”
“Fuck yeah, what a highlight,” Kacchan replied, swatting away chunks of snow flying at him. “That loser Dehisa down the street never stood a chance.”
“He always tried.”
“Yup, always did, but never fucking succeeded. We were the fort team.”
Izuku remembers those days fondly. They were some of his best memories, way before middle school and high school happened. It was also way before they got their quirks or understood the quirk hierarchy. The snow finally stops and they look over to the animals, who have ceased their play-fighting. Instead they’ve started cuddling, nuzzling cheeks together while Fang picks bits of dirt from Horns’ wool. They look content and, through their soul-bond, Izuku can feel Horns’ contentment and love.
It makes Izuku go a bit red as he watches. Maybe all of these… feelings things, all the things he doesn’t want to think about, are just on the mind.
“They’re sure cozy,” Kacchan comments.
“Yup!” His throat feels squeezed to bits. His mind can’t help wandering to… well, him and Kacchan cuddling like that. It would be really nice. Also, he may or may not be really cold, and their interlocked bundle looks warm.
“Wanna fish now?”
“Mhm.” They move back over to the gear. “Okay, sit there.”
“At the edge of the water?”
“Yep.”
It’s a slippery rock but Izuku does as told, legs dangling over the edge. He’s honestly afraid he’ll fall in. “Are you sure this is… safe?”
“No, absolutely not,” Kacchan replies flippantly. “But you’ll survive, dork. I’ll be here, too.”
And with that, Kacchan settles down behind him, pressing closer and closer until they’re back-to-back and Midoriya’s heart skips quite a few beats, cheeks no longer cold.
“K-Kacchan?”
“What? ’M gonna teach you how to fish.”
Oh. Right. That.
“So the first thing you do is…”
Izuku tries, he really does. But his entire world narrows down to Kacchan’s hand pressed firmly over his own on the rod handle and promptly zones out, not absorbing a single word, mind floating to the sound of Kacchan’s deep, rough voice behind him. Something about, uh… uh… rod? Bobber? Tight? …Bottom? Hello, what?
“Did you get all that?” His hands are still covering Izuku’s.
“Um?”
Kacchan leans forward, fixing him with two nearly-glowing red eyes mere inches away from Izuku’s own. “Guessing you didn’t?”
“I-I, uh… no?”
“You’re gonna have to try harder, ’Zuzu.”
What. What. What. Help. Izuku’s gonna combust. He feels it in his toes, and the toes always know, okay? They’re, like, burning up. It’s a miracle he’s still forming words. Maybe his next sentence will be gibberish, but he’s made it this far, and cannot give up. Their bonding trip will not be ruined because Izuku can’t handle Kacchan’s hand on his waist or––
Wait. Hand on waist.
…
“Izuku. Fishing isn’t that great. No need to look like the love of your life just fell from the sky.”
This is not happening. This is not happening. This is not happening. This. Is. Not––
“Yep!” Whatthefuckwasthat.
Kacchan just gives him the most incredulous look of his life for two whole seconds before busting out laughing. “You’re fun to tease. Alright, I’m only going over it one more fucking time, so you better pay attention or else.”
“Yep!”
They passed about an hour that way, Kacchan teaching Izuku the bare basics of fishing while Izuku barely clings to his sanity.
He survives.
The time passes fast and he starts to enjoy it a lot more. Well, he’d been enjoying it before, but it’s even better now that he’s getting the hang of fishing. There are a surprising number of fish in the lake and he’s reeled in two all by himself. Another four squirm in their bucket thanks to Kacchan’s help.
–– POV Katsuki ––
Izuku’s cheeks, flushed a bright pink from the cold, are cute as hell. He’s got these chipmunk-like cheeks, cute baby fat still clinging like it did when they were little, and they squish when he makes any sort of annoyed face. It sets Katsuki’s heart on fire. Honestly, it’s half the reason he teases and annoys Izuku so much. First off, it’s fucking hilarious. But second –– and you will never catch him admitting this to anyone –– he loves seeing Izuku’s face screw up for a moment as he mulls over whatever Katsuki had verbally lobbed at him.
He’ll never get sick of it, and if he ever does, push him off a cliff. Seriously. He’s got Izuku wrapped up in his arms fumbling determinedly with the fishing rod, teaching him how to fish... this might be one of the greatest moments of his life.
But… what if he fucks it up? He’s always too brash, too cutting and ends up pushing people away. Katsuki usually doesn’t give a shit, doesn’t let it get to him, except that now is the time when it matters. Really matters. If he messes it up again after Izuku gave him a second chance after all those years of treating him like shit, he’ll never forgive himself.
The afternoon flew by as Izuku slowly learned to fish. It was really fucking fun to teach the nerd. He’d always been a fast learner. Dusk falls slowly on them, the light dimming yet not gone completely. Katsuki doesn’t want the day to finish.
He hasn’t messed it up yet. Their banter has stayed light, playful, and maybe Katsuki’s indulged in teasing the other boy a bit –– in good fun, of course. What can he say? Zuzu’s just so fun to rile up. He turns bright red all over, even the tips of his ears and fingers, when he blushes.
It’s fucking adorable and honestly is supplying Katsuki with too much enjoyment to stop anytime soon. So, yeah. Katsuki hasn’t messed it up yet. Yet being the keyword. He can’t stop being paranoid and thinking about it.
He’ll never forgive himself for how he treated Izuku in middle school. It had been villainous, against every value they’d aspired to together. The other boy didn’t deserve that for just keeping his dream to be a hero long after Katsuki had abandoned him.
So no matter how well things were going with Izuku, Katsuki couldn’t help wondering: when is that villain going to come back? He knows he has it in him somewhere. When is it going to strike? Will he lose control of his temper, say something irreversible?
Yes.
If that’s the case –– and he despises thinking this –– it’s better to stop this, whatever it is that’s taking a strong root in his heart now. Stop it before it becomes harmful, stop it before it can harm Izuku, before Katsuki hurts Izuku again because he’s done it before and he’ll do it again.
“Oh! A fish!” Izuku interrupts Katsuki’s spiral, gasping and squirming back on the rock as he struggles with the rod.
“Woah, careful––”
“Kacchan, it’s really strong!”
“C’mon, you fuckin’ got this. Go.” It splashes around in their ice-hole, tugging Izuku forward.
Katsuki reaches out two hands to grasp Izuku’s waist, holding him steady and making sure he doesn’t get pulled into the hole. The other boy squeaks. Cute.
The fish is large, green, and has some sort of yellow fin on top. It squirms on the rock, probably shivering its ass off as it gasps for oxygen, while they both stare at it.
“Never seen one like this before.”
“I had no idea fish like these existed here! Oh, I should write about it.”
“Yeah. Good idea.” Katsuki leans out of his way as Izuku fishes for his notebook in his pack.
“I wonder what it tastes like.” He mutters as he flips it open to an empty page. “Does the flavor change based on winter diet differences?”
“It's still a fucking fish.”
“Yeah, but don’t you think it’d be interesting to study?”
“Tch. Nerd,” Katsuki flicks him in the forehead, enjoying the pout Izuku gives him in return. “Just write your report.”
“Mm, okay.”
They sit there for a little while as Izuku hunches forward, scribbling furiously while the last few rays of light remain.
“You’re gonna have the worst old-age back pain ever.” Katsuki comments, back hurting just watching the near-ninety-degree angle Izuku has achieved.
“Hush.”
“What the hell.” Then he gets an idea. “Just… fuckin’ lean on me, or whatever.”
“H-huh!?” Izuku’s ears are literally glowing. He can see them. It’s kinda funny and Katsuki would be laughing if his heart weren’t literally about to burst out of his chest.
“Shut up.” He tries to fake a nonchalance, unsure of how well it comes across. “Just lean back.” He tugs the other boy by the shoulders, inviting him to lean back against his chest.
Izuku does, sinking against Katsuki and sighing. “Comfy.”
It’s murder on his heart.
Neither boy could tell you how much time passes before the sun has truly and thoroughly set. Izuku set down his pen a while ago and simply snuggled against Katsuki, the other boy’s arms wrapped forwards around him. It felt natural to both of them and neither had made any motions to rise after quite some time.
But finally, it’s time to wrap up. They’re both freezing despite the shared warmth and have a campfire and tent to build for the night.
Izuku makes the first move, slowly leaning forward and stretching. Katsuki watches him, mourning the loss of warmth and whatever they’d been doing. It had been really nice.
The green-haired boy brushes off all the little flakes which had fallen and nestled into his coat before standing up. Then he looks back down again.
Moments pass.
Izuku extends his hand, palm up, towards Katsuki. The both of them look at it like it holds all the answers to the world before inevitably locking eyes. The hand still hovers midair.
There’s an electric, taut tension, both of them realizing the significance of the moment. How could they not?
Katsuki’s breaths fog the cold air in rapid puffs. Snowflakes have collected on his eyelashes, dusting them a light white.
In a flash, split-second, he’s grabbed Izuku’s hand and is rising to his feet. They’re no longer unbalanced and two pairs of eyes, brimming with the significance of the moment, meet on the same level and lock intently.
They both know what it means, both are aware of the importance.
The usual harsh planes of Katsuki’s face have smoothed out, his red eyes nearly glowing in the dry aura of a passed twilight. Izuku’s heart pounds against his chest. This moment feels like the entire world, like this lake perched on the top of the mountain is the universe. It may as well be.
Their hands haven’t unlocked. Fingers are still twined together, skin tingling, cheeks flaming. Neither says anything. They’ve always been this way, have always let actions take the place of words. It’s their language and they understand it perfectly, fluent and breathing it the way nobody else does, unable to understand their years-deep bond.
They both know this and think it at nearly the same time, hearts swelling silently with the knowledge passing between them.
Their animals lay snuggled together in the snow a few paces away, nuzzled so comfortably it’s hard to tell where wool ends and fur begins. Claws and horns and teeth all in one snug bundle.
“Izuku,” Katsuki murmurs roughly, emotions fighting to get to the surface. He desperately tries to push them back down and fails.
“Kacchan,” Izuku breathes back, his heart pounding, mind racing a thousand miles a second.
Those two words were all they needed. The moment washed over them like a calm wave, the remaining elevated heartbeats lingering long after.
“We’ve been real stupid, huh?” Katsuki says, gripping Izuku’s hand tighter. He never wants to let go.
“Yeah,” Izuku breathes. “I guess so.”
“I really thought, all those years, that you were looking down on me.” His face tightens. “It made me stupid. Too much... misplaced ego.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Izuku understands, he really does. All those expectations to be the best, all those adults telling him he was the best –– they were just kids, for crying out loud. How could they be expected to reject what the adults were telling them and go against the very grain of society at five years old? “It’s all these dumb standards we have about quirks.”
“Yeah, but I still did all that to you. Middle school.”
“You apologized.” Something brings a fierceness to Izuku’s voice and it causes Katsuki to harden slightly in response. He just hates it when Kacchan re-punishes himself for what went on back then, knowing they were just two products of their environments.
“Stop it, Izuku. Stop. You’re being too forgiving. I need––” his voice grows rough, jagged around the edges and he blinks a few times, “––need you to be mad at me. Just gotta, shit, face the consequences for once.” He had never faced consequences for what he’d done. One could even argue that he’d been rewarded for it, securing a seat in the top hero course class of his year. It was a miracle Izuku still had the willpower and determination to follow through and chase him despite all the years he’d spent beating the other boy down.
If anything, it’s most unfair of him to expect the other boy to reciprocate any misguided romantic feelings Katsuki has managed to drag out of his calloused heart.
“Kacchan, stop it. I know what you’re thinking.” Izuku takes a step closer, reaching out and boldly placing both hands on Katsuki’s cheeks, never letting go of his hand. “You feel guilty. That’s okay. But if you don’t accept my forgiveness, when will you ever be free?”
“Never,” Katsuki chokes out. “I don’t deserve you. I keep thinking every second that you’ll, I don’t fucking know, realize I’m a shitty person and leave, and I’d rather that happen before…”
“Before…?”
A loaded heartbeat of silence follows.
“It’s fucking stupid. Whatever. Nevermind, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Kacchan, I’m listening.” Stars twinkle overhead, the moon barely illuminating their two faces as they gaze into each others’ eyes, unbreaking, unyielding. But the other boy shakes his head and averts his eyes.
“Kacchan, I think you’re amazing. I always have.” Izuku starts, the words coming from deep in his heart. “It’s not because you’re you. I mean, it is, but it’s not just that. It’s because of things like this. You care. You’re not the same person you were in middle school.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because of your actions. Actions make a person.” He explains, hands still resting against Kacchan’s cheeks. “And you’ve changed your actions, so therefore you have changed.”
Tears start to brim in Kacchan’s eyes. Izuku sees them and continues speaking.
“I admire that you reflected on the person you were and changed. You’re trying to be better and I see that. You’re succeeding.” He sees the words getting through. “I’m not going to leave. So you can’t either, okay?”
“I just d’n wanna hurt you,” Kacchan whispers. Izuku sniffles at this. Are tears infectious?
“You won’t.” Izuku chokes out. “Promise.”
“No, I will,” he asserts. “I will, and it’s because I’m not far enough along yet to be around you without being my old, shitty little middle school self sometimes.”
“Kacchan, no one’s perfect.”
Those words settle a blanket of silence over the pair, a fair middle. They both know it. While Katsuki is afraid he’d be the person he once was, they also both know he’s trying damn hard to fix it and change himself.
He really, really doesn’t deserve Izuku, yet is so lucky to have someone like him around.
“So let’s start over, really start over, okay?”
Kacchan nods, cracking a smile. “Hell yeah. No bailing.”
“No bailing.” Izuku parrots, running his thumb over Kacchan’s cheek. Katsuki covers Izuku's hand with his own, squeezing tight.
They both know there’s something there, something more; it’s unspoken yet present, both knowing it will be dug up later. For now, it will lay dormant like a seed, gathering nutrients and time while it nestles within their hearts and sprouts at the right time.
That day will come. Someday, they’ll lay both of their hearts bare to each other as the blossoming growths stand tall and reach for the other. It will happen. Someday.
But for today, both are content to stay standing there under the stars, snuggled animals nearby, basking in the moment and each other as the snow falls around them in slow sheets, slowly, slowly. Today is not the day, but both know someday will come –– slowly.