Archive of Our Own

"Hiya, Todoroki! Great to see you!"

"Usagi. I wish I could say the same."

Ice met blade as the fight began. Behind the black surgical mask, a wide smile stretched itself onto Izuku's face. His knives spun in his hands as he moved with rhythm like it was power, dancing the steps to a song he knew by heart. Each twirling strike was met with a block, each barrage of ice or blast of fire met with empty air. They both knew how it went, and how it ended every time.

Right on schedule, Dabi was engaged by Kirishima and Bakugo, drawing him away. The rest of the League were each embroiled in their own battles, satisfied that he could hold his own by the red line dripping down Todoroki's cheek. Once the others were a safe distance and preoccupied by their own fights, Todoroki threw up a wide wall of ice around them against a building, boxing him in.

Inside the ice, they raced towards each other, as if drawn by a magnet.

And embraced.

"God, Izuku, it's been too long. I thought there was supposed to an attack two weeks ago." Shouto said, burying his face in his boyfriend's fluffy green curls. Izuku clutched the fabric of his shirt like he was afraid to let go, knives abandoned on the ground. "Sorry, Sho, they rescheduled after that televised fight went viral. Said there were too many heroes and too much attention, and I couldn't get a message to you."

Shouto sighed. "It's not your fault. I just… I'm worried. Every day I don't hear from you, I can't stop myself from wondering… if they figured it out. If they figured you out."

Izuku finally pulled back, just enough to look Shouto in the eye, but his gaze was caught on his marred cheek. He raised his hand, not quite touching the injury he'd left on his lover. His eyes stung.

Shouto reached up and cupped Izuku's hand, gently placing it on his cheek, right below his scar. "It's alright, it doesn't hurt." He was wearing a soft smile, the kind reserved for Izuku, and that made it feel worse. "I hurt you." He bit out, increasingly aware of their time limit, how long until they needed to get back in view of the others. "Dammit, this whole thing is hurting you, and I just—"

"It's hurting you too. Please, Izuku, prioritize yourself first. You're the one undercover in a villain organization. Maybe if I know you're worrying about yourself, I'll be able to stop doing it so much." Shouto asked of him, and Izuku gave him a tired laugh. "Nothing would make you stop worrying about me, Sho. But fine, I'll try to worry more about myself."

He held up his hand, pinkie outstretched, and the familiar innocent little gesture made something in Shouto's face shatter. But he copied it, and their pinkies locked, like they had so many times before. Shouto tugged him in again, holding Izuku against his chest like if he embraced him just right he could merge them together. "Dammit, Izu…" He whispered, silent tears tracking down his cheeks. He could feel Izuku's shoulders shaking under his arms and hugged him tighter, wishing he could do more.

"We need to hurry. If I take much longer to bust out of here, they'll be suspicious or think I need help." Izuku hated saying it, speaking a reminder of their situation into existence when he was exactly where he longed to be every waking hour of his life. He was wrapped up in Shouto's arms, held tight by the boy he loved, and the fact that he had to choose to leave or risk endangering himself and countless other lives was just cruel. Life was unfair, but it had always felt especially unfair to him.

He wants nothing more than to be a hero, he's born Quirkless. He wants to save people, he has to be a vigilante. He meets the love of his life, he has to pretend to be a villain and infiltrate the League to put a stop to the master plan he'd been hearing rumors about, placing himself and his lover on opposite sides of the battlefield.

He wants nothing more than to just be with the boy he loves, and all they have to do is stay apart.

"I know." Shouto said into his hair. Neither of them moved to pull away.

Until he planted his hands on Shouto's shoulders, pushed himself out of his arms, and pretended like he wasn't leaving a piece of his heart behind. Shouto let him go, arms falling back to his sides like they didn't know what to do when they weren't holding him.

Izuku unhooked his mask, mustering up a watery grin as he blinked the tears away. "How about a kiss, for good luck?" He was glad Shouto was kind enough not to react to the way his voice cracked. "Sure, I could use some." He said instead, and Izuku let out a giggle-sob before reaching up and cupping his lover's face, slotting their lips together gently.

It was salty, and a little wet, but it felt like coming home. Something in his chest ached, so fiercely it took his breath away. When they pulled apart just a few seconds later, the warm and loving look in Shouto's eyes nearly made him break. He closed his eyes, just so he wouldn't have to look at it anymore.

"We can't keep doing this." He said instead. Work, logistics. He could talk about that, instead of thinking about how everything else made him want to curl up and cry. "Your classmates do a good job at distracting the others, but they're going to get suspicious that you and I always fight each other alone. They believed the personal rivals story for now, but if this keeps up and I don't finish the job they're going to start asking questions."

"Izuku—" Shouto began, his face twisting.

Izuku wiped his tears, forcing down the swirling emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He didn't have time for this. He couldn't break down now, not with everything on the line. "You know it's true. I'm so close, Shouto, I can feel it. And we can't— I can't keep having these moments, not when I can't keep them. Please." He put his mask back on, both literally and metaphorically.

"Okay, we'll talk about this later." They both knew later would never come. "We're out of time, text Iida more as soon as you can." Shouto's classmate had been chosen as his liaison. Shouto was too close to this, and Iida had proven himself when the three of them fought Stain.

"Duh. I'll see you on the other side, babe." Izuku said, getting back into character. He shot Shouto a peace sign with the most convincing fake cheer he had ever seen, before using the building he'd used as the fourth wall of his ice cage to parkour out, clearing the top of his ice with a flip and a cheeky taunt.

Shouto allowed himself a single breath to pull himself together, before melting his ice with an angry growl and charging back into the fight.

It was a dance, and they both knew how it ended, every time.

"Have fun with your icyhot buddy?"

Izuku was prepared for the question, though admittedly wasn't expecting it to come from Dabi. The villain always seemed to avoid talking about Todoroki; not obviously, but just becoming broodier, more reserved whenever Izuku's rival was brought up.

"We had a riveting conversation about our favorite colors, our plans for the future, why I'm trying to kill him and his friends, the usual." Izuku replied, a lazy smile on his face as he looked up at the burnt man standing over him, laid out on the couch. "Enjoy your fight with boom boy? He seemed like a real conversationalist."

Dabi scoffed, dead blue eyes leaving his. "Whatever. You and the psycho are both just nuts, I swear." He stuffed his hands in his trenchcoat pockets, kicking the coffee table as he turned to go.

Izuku allowed an obnoxious smile to stretch across his face, waving as he left. "Takes one to know one, arsonist!" He called brightly, before settling back and closing his eyes. He appeared to be dozing off, but obviously was not. It was good for appearances, though, for them to think he trusted them enough to let his guard down around them.

He was not sleeping, which was why he heard quiet giggling and near-silent footsteps approaching. He cracked an eye open once they stopped near him, and was not at all surprised to see slitted golden eyes staring back. "Hey, Himi-chan." He said, and she giggled again. "I noticed you got a little roughed up in our fight, Usagi! Can I have a little, pleaseeee?" She asked, pouting her lip at him.

Izuku sighed with a fond smile that was not entirely fake. If there was anyone in the League he had a soft spot for, it was Toga Himiko. Maybe it was just because he could sympathize with her story, or maybe it was because she was his age. She was a murderer, and he would never forget that, but she was also the first person to welcome him in and make sure he was feeling at home. She was the one who called this group of villains a family, for all that they didn't deny her.

"Sure, go for it." He said, sitting up. She clapped her hands excitedly before going straight for a cut on his arm, a laceration he'd received from blocking one of Kirishima's hardened hits. Credit where it was due, he didn't falter, even though Izuku could tell he hadn't meant for it to happen.

Getting your blood sucked was an… odd sensation. He didn't mind, though, not when Himiko smiled at him after, fangs stained with his blood and genuine joy sparkling in her eyes as she hugged him. She made him go to bed after that, citing the side effects of blood donation and that it wouldn't be very cute if he fainted. She left him with a glass of water and an iron pill on his nightstand, promising to wake him for breakfast the next morning.

He was a little lightheaded, but the relief at being alone outweighed it. Himiko was like a guard dog after he'd given her blood, so he knew he was almost guaranteed no one would bother him until the morning. It was sweet of her.

Maybe you're so fond of her just because you're alone in enemy territory, under constant stress, and you're clinging to the only scraps of kindness you can find, however twisted they are.

…Fantastic. The dark side of his mind had decided to make an appearance.

He made the executive decision to get some rest, popping the iron pill and downing the water before shutting his eyes and trying to ignore his thoughts and sleep, preferably without dreams.

It didn't work. He dreamed of red and white hair, loving eyes, and soft arms holding him close; he woke up to the ghost of a kiss and nothing but salt on his lips.

A week after the fight, Shouto got a text from an unknown number. It was just an address, nothing else, but he knew who it was from. The fact that it was only that, and that it had been sent to him and not Iida, made his heart beat in his throat as he dropped everything to get there as fast as possible.

He stopped only to turn his location on and forward the address to Iida, just in case, if only because he knew Izuku would kill him if he'd walked into something that could be a trap without telling anyone.

When he got there, heading to the roof because he knew Izuku, he could finally breathe properly again. His boyfriend was there, alone and physically unharmed, sitting and looking up at the stars.

"Izu?" He called softly, trying not to startle him as he approached.

The next thing he knew, his arms were full of shaking green.

"Izuku? What happened?" Shouto asked, more alarmed than ever. Izuku said nothing, just continued to sob into his chest, and Shouto took the hint and just hugged him for now. He brought them down to a sitting position, Izuku practically in his lap as the wet patch on his shoulder grew and grew. He just hugged his boyfriend close, performing his duty as an anchor without question or complaint.

Finally, the shaking slowed and the tears stopped. "Izuku?" He prompted softly, nudging him with the tenderness of someone holding something fragile.

Izuku was not fragile, could never be considered weak. But Shouto was afraid he was dangerously close to breaking.

Hesitantly, Izuku pulled back, looking down still so all Shouto could see was a mess of green floof. He reached out, gently tipping Izuku's chin up until he could meet his eyes. "You can tell me, Izu." He said, brushing away tear tracks with his thumb. Izuku bit his lip, fisting his hands in Shouto's sleeves as he worked himself up to it.

"I hurt someone."

And just like that, the dam broke.

"I just— we were stealing from this firm, you'll probably hear about it on the news, and we were interrupted, and Dabi was about to burn him alive, so I just— I panicked and threw my knife to push him out of the way and it stabbed him in the shoulder, and Hi— Toga was all excited about it and I had to smile while this innocent man screamed in pain because Dabi was yelling at me for messing up his kill and I made up some bullshit about having a witness for more attention and somehow it worked and we got out and I called an ambulance after we left and he survived but he almost didn't and it's my fault and oh my god I'm becoming a real villain Shouto—"

Shouto cut him off with a kiss. It was firm, almost hard, insistent and strong. Izuku was shocked for only a heartbeat before melting into it with a desperation.

"Izuku," he said once they'd parted, Izuku wide-eyed but now more than two seconds from a panic attack, "don't you dare say that. I won't stand for it, you hear me? You saved that man's life. He survived a stab wound, do you think he would've survived Dabi's fire? You are a hero, Izuku." It wasn't often that he pulled out the H-word, knowing how his boyfriend felt about it after years of being convinced Quirkless people couldn't be heroes and turning to vigilantism instead. But he needed Izuku to hear him, because he couldn't bear his strong, caring, kind boyfriend thinking so horribly of himself.

Izuku's lips parted, but no words escaped. Finally, he shook his head. "Shouto, I—"

"I don't care." He said bluntly, cutting him off. "There isn't a single thing you could say that would make me believe you're a villain or a monster or whatever else you think you are. You're Midoriya Izuku, you're my boyfriend, you are the reason I accepted my fire and found happiness in myself. You're the love of my life, Izuku, and as long as I breathe you will never call yourself a villain."

Izuku's eyes were filled with tears, jaw dropped from his declaration. He meant every word of it, though, and only stared intently into Izuku's eyes, willing him to believe it.

With a cry that sounded like it was violently torn from his throat, Izuku wrapped his arms around Shouto and sobbed into his chest. Shouto held him, subtly increasing his temperature. He didn't shush him, or offer empty platitudes. There were no words that could soothe the pain he'd been subjected to over the last few months of infiltration, and Shouto knew that the same way he knew they would have to leave each other again, go their separate ways and pretend their hearts weren't broken in half, each taking a piece of the other's with them.

But for now, Izuku was warm and solid and real in his arms. Just for this moment, just for right now, he could have this.

Izuku couldn't stop crying.

He'd thought he'd gotten over that, but apparently his lover's profound, heartfelt speech had knocked something loose in his chest that he'd kept bottled up tight, and now it was overflowing.

He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve these arms, this heartbeat against his ear, this unconditional love. He smiled at villains and meant it, he let one of them drink his blood just because she wanted it, he played video games with the next Criminal Underlord just because he was having trouble beating a level and looked like he needed help. He was becoming one of them, he wasn't worthy of the light Shouto brought him into and shared with him, the warmth and acceptance and feeling of home.

Izuku was hurting him. He'd made the decision to go undercover. This was all on him, and he knew it. Maybe it was their best chance at stopping whatever the League's benefactor had planned, but it was also hurting Shouto.

He didn't deserve this, but he was selfish and couldn't stop himself, either.

He couldn't bring himself to deny this comfort, even as the guilt of knowing he shouldn't have it only made him sob harder. Shouto was his, his lover, his boyfriend, his warmth and light and home. The selfish, possessive part of him couldn't bear to remove the claws he'd sunk into Shouto, even as they hurt him.

He started dispersing apologies between his sobs, and Shouto soothed each one with an I know and I forgive you. Izuku cried until it felt like he shouldn't have had any tears left, and then a little more.

He was just— so tired. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, the 24/7 hypervigilance and act, mask on top of mask on top of mask just in case one slipped. The tiniest mistake could mean his life and the ruin of everything he'd worked for. The pressure was crushing, and Izuku wasn't allowed to break, not with everything on the line, but his knees were starting to buckle.

And god, Shouto made it so much better and so much worse.

Seeing him was the highlight of Izuku's double life, getting to drop the masks and embrace the boy he loved, no pressure and no pretenses; just Izuku and Shouto, together, whole.

But always, inevitably, the moment ended, and reality came crashing back down a hundred times worse than before.

Once he'd felt his lover's touch, his body missed it, craved it, and there was nothing he could do. Having to go back to Usagi, rising villain with the cheeky wit and crazy streak a mile wide, was all the more excruciating after being able to be Izuku, Shouto's boyfriend who likes holding hands and giggling kisses.

He couldn't stand it, having everything he wanted for just a moment before it was ripped away from him again. It wasn't fair, it hurt, and each time left him feeling just a little more hollow than the last. He didn't know how much more of it he could take, but he couldn't stop, either. He couldn't stop coming back for more, stealing every second he could get his greedy hands on before they were snatched away from him again. The rush of seeing his boyfriend, feeling the warm body and soft lips on his, was too exhilarating.

The high felt too good to stop, and the low felt too painful to continue. He felt like he was being torn in two different directions and he swore any more of it would rip him in half.

He had to make a choice, because he couldn't keep going like this or he'd break. And with what he was doing, breaking meant death.

He knew what he had to do. His heart was already shattering at just the thought of it, and he knew committing to it would be a million times worse. But what he was doing was too important; he didn't matter, and neither did what he wanted, even if he wanted it more than breathing. Nothing mattered more than stopping the League.

Not even Todoroki Shouto.

"We have to stop."

Shouto paused mid-rubbing his back.

"I can't do this anymore, Sho. I need to be Usagi or I need to be Izuku, but I can't keep going back and forth like this." His voice broke on the word can't, and he was grateful he was too much of a coward to look Shouto in the eye for this.

If he saw his lover's expression right then, he wouldn't be strong enough to do it.

"Izu, you can—"

"I can't, Shouto. The League is still strong, and their benefactor is still in the shadows. But I'm close, I can feel it. I can't stop now. This is bigger than me, bigger than us."

He could hear Shouto's heart racing in his chest, and prayed for forgiveness for what he was about to ask.

"So I need you to forget about me."

"What?!"

"I need you to forget about Midoriya Izuku. I need to be Usagi, which means Izuku can't exist. Not until this is over. I can't do this if there's anything else in my life, and none of us can afford for me to fail. Please, Sho, don't make me beg you." He would. He would get down on his hands and knees if he had to, because this was the only way he could keep everybody safe.

Shouto was a dangerous, deadly distraction.

"N-No, Izuku, I— you can't—" He sounded like he'd been sucker punched, breathless and in pain.

Izuku gathered up the remaining scraps of his resolve and pulled back, looking Shouto in the eye.

And nearly lost everything right there.

Shouto looked gutted, horrified and angry and confused and so, so hurt it was making Izuku ache. He hadn't even looked like this when Izuku told him what he was doing months ago, before all of this.

"I'm sorry," Izuku said, begging him to understand. "I'm so, so sorry, Shouto. I just— I can't think of any other way to keep everyone safe—"

"What about you?"

He stopped short. "Huh?"

"What about you, Izuku?" Shouto said, staring at him with a fierce intensity he'd never seen before. "W-What do you mean?" He asked, confused.

"Who's going to keep you safe? Who's going to wipe your tears when you cry? Who's going to tell you you're not a villain? Who's going to bring you out of your head and remind you of who you are? Who's going to make you smile, Izuku?" Shouto demanded, voice going softer with every question until it was barely above a whisper.

A beat passed as Izuku absorbed his words, carefully taking his pain and pushing it down, where he could ignore it long enough to do this.

"That's the point, Shouto. No one." He smiled sadly, watching heterochromatic eyes widen. "I can't be Izuku. I need to be Usagi, keeping only my objectives and nothing else. While I'm doing this, Midoriya Izuku can't exist. I can't be both. The League is too important—"

"Fuck the League."

Hearing his boyfriend swear was so rare it startled him into stopping. "What?"

"Fuck the League. And their benefactor, I don't care. Fuck all of them. Dammit, Izuku, listen to me." If Shouto's eyes were intense before, they were frenzied now, and Izuku found himself pinned in place beneath them.

"I don't care about stopping the League, or their master plan. Not at the cost of you. I'm prepared to lose a lot to stop them, but I'm not prepared to lose you. Izuku, I can't lose you."

Izuku was stunned by the weight of his words, the way his voice broke at the end and his expression was twisted between angry and terrified. He looked like he was about to break apart. "Shouto, I have to—"

"You don't. We're the heroes, it's our job to stop them. You don't have to do this, it's not your responsibility." He was begging, now, pleading for Izuku to hear what he was saying and agree. It took everything he had not to give in, if only so he wouldn't have to see Shouto make that face anymore.

His lips quirked bitterly. "If we have an opportunity to help, it's our responsibility to take it. I'm in the League, Sho, I have access nobody else does. It would take months to bring in someone new. This is our best shot at stopping them, and you know it."

Izuku could see it in his eyes, he did. So why was he fighting it so hard?

"Have you heard a word I've said?! Izu, I care about you more than I care about stopping them, so please."

Izuku raised a hand and cupped his cheek, brushing away the desperate tears beginning to trail from his eyes. "I know you do, Shouto. But what you or I care about isn't what matters here, and you know that too."

Shouto's eyes closed, hand coming up to rest on Izuku's like he could keep him there forever with his grip alone.

"…I know." He whispered at last, and his eyes fluttered open again. The hollow despair in them snapped something deep inside of Izuku, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to break right there. "But I love you. Shouldn't that count for something?" He asked, voice soft and pleading and so, so shattered.

"It counts for everything." Izuku said, resting their foreheads together.

For several minutes, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, savoring the feeling of being close and dreading the rise of the sun, because with it Izuku would have to leave and forget about Shouto, the boy who made him remember how to smile for real and just exist as himself again, the steady shore he could wash up against when the waves swirling within him were too much to bear.

He had to. It didn't matter how much it hurt.

Shouto broke the silence with a whisper. "Please. Don't make me lose you," he said, and Izuku really didn't want to have to beg for understanding anymore, until he met his lover's eyes and understood what he meant. "I won't." He said, swearing it on his dying breath. "I promise."

And even though promises were worth less than a whisper in the wind when you were fighting a war, Shouto believed it.

Izuku brought his pinkie up, a smile like the jagged edges of his heart making its way onto his face. Shouto's breath caught, before he slowly reached up and locked their pinkies together.

More kisses and tears and whispered words that would never leave that rooftop than either of them could count later, the first rays of dawn broke onto the sky like glorious ribbons of gold. It was the worst thing they had ever seen.

"I love you," Izuku said, before a final kiss. "Please forget about me until this is over," he said after, and carefully constructed a wall built of his resolve to keep the broken, splintered pieces of him behind as his hand left Shouto's in one last, lingering touch. If Shouto said anything in response, he didn't hear it, because he was already on the next rooftop over.

If Izuku had missed it, it was probably for the best. Knowing would just make it that much harder to forget.

Usagi was good at what he did. He was cheeky, sly, smart as a whip, and had an insane streak a mile wide, as one might've heard. He was also fantastic with knives, agile, incredibly stealthy, and not half bad with a computer.

That was relevant, because he was currently hacking one.

A month after (after, his mind carefully slid over what happened) he fully committed to being a villain, they'd finally let their guard down enough to leave him access to one of the offices he wasn't allowed near. He'd checked to make sure the room wasn't bugged before making sure the computer wasn't being digitally monitored. Once he was certain he was in the clear, he went treasure hunting through the files, keeping an ear out for footsteps.

And boy, did he hit the jackpot. A lot of it was encrypted, but there was still a wealth of information in what wasn't. He logged into a throwaway email account and sent copies, screenshots, and even PDFs of everything he could get his hands on directly to UA Principal Nezu's personal email. The rat would know what to do with it, though Usagi wouldn’t even need the heroes if everything went as planned.

When he was done, he logged out, went through the system and did a hard wipe of everything he'd done since he opened it. He scrubbed every trace of his digital footprint before leaving it exactly as he'd found it.

He listened for footsteps before cracking the door open; the coast was clear. He casually wandered away from the office, moving through the cameras' blindspots until he was back in safer territory. He didn't relax — he never relaxed. He did, however, allow his shoulders to lower half an inch and began whistling a jaunty tune, twirling a knife between his fingers as he entered the bar's main room.

Himiko was sitting on a stool, drinking something red from one of Kurogiri's nice wine glasses with a straw. He didn't ask what it was, just made a mental note to steer clear of the bartender/warp gate for a while.

He grabbed a juice bottle from the fridge, leaning back on the bar next to her. "What's got you so cheerful, Usagi?" She asked, a giggling coloring her words as she flashed him a red-stained smile.

"Oh, it's just a great day to be alive, Himi-chan." Usagi said airily, a lazy grin spread across his face.

Shouto had lied.

He hadn't forgotten Midoriya Izuku.

He never would.

He'd tried, at first, but the thought of forgetting was even more painful than remembering, so he kept every single memory clutched tight despite the thorns pricking into his skin.

And now, two months later, it was almost over. A month ago, Principal Nezu had received an email from an IP they'd traced to a suspected League hideout. When he'd received the news, it felt like taking a breath of fresh air after drowning for a year. It was a sign that Izuku was still alive and fighting.

The class held a party that night, even though they didn't know Izuku personally. All they knew was that Shouto loved him, and that was enough for them to love him too.

Shouto was so grateful for his class, he didn't know how he'd ever survived without them.

With Izuku unreachable in enemy territory for however long this took, they were like a rock. Iida and Uraraka had been especially supportive, and Bakugo had some kind of history with Izuku — they'd never told him explicitly, though their reactions the first time they saw each other when Izuku met his classmates had left him with many questions — so he'd been unusually kind too, even though he'd yelled when Shouto thanked him for it.

Throughout the month after the first message, more came sporadically, each one feeling like a soothing balm on frayed nerves. There was never any text, and the messages came from a different throwaway account each time, but they were all filled with information dug up from League files. Shouto hadn't understood most of it, but Nezu apparently did, because he'd been planning their final assault on the League with the police since the first one.

And now, finally, two months after the most painful separation of his life (worse even than his mom, and wasn't that something), they were ready. All they were waiting on was a signal.

In the last email, Izuku had broken pattern. He'd left a note at the bottom of the email, two sentences long.

Wait for my signal. Be ready to go.

He'd signed off with a cute emoticon of a smiling bunny with semi-circles for eyes and a peace sign. Shouto stared at it until the lines didn't look real anymore. He'd never hated a rabbit so much before.

"Todoroki-kun, I don't think the screen will combust if you stare at it intensely enough. A for effort, though."

He was dragged out of his thoughts by Uraraka's voice. He glanced over his shoulder; she was standing behind the couch, looking down at him with a worried expression that belied the teasing tone in her voice.

"It's not him," he said, surprising even himself with his vehemence. She gracefully hopped over the back of the couch, sitting next to him and giving him her full attention. "What's not? You think the emails are fake?" She asked, growing alarmed. Shouto shook his head. "No, not that. This," he said, gesturing at the stupid rabbit emoji. "Usagi, the bunny theme. It's not him."

She looked between him and the computer refusing to wilt under his glare. "We know, Todoroki-kun." She said hesitantly, placing a hand on his arm, pinkie held up. "Nobody thinks he's a real villain."

He shook his head again. "No, it's not— he adopted this persona, Usagi,  because he needed to be a villain. He told me he had to forget about Midoriya Izuku, that he couldn't be both at once, and now…" He trailed off, unsure of how to word the twisting knot of apprehension in his chest.

"You're worried he won't come back to himself after this is over," Uraraka finished for him, hitting the nail right on the head. "Yes," he said, and even just the admission of his fear tasted sour on his tongue.

Uraraka hummed. "Well, I don't think you need to worry about that." She said matter-of-factly, as if her words were just objective truth and that was all there was to it.

"Why?" Shouto asked, bewildered. "He's been playing Usagi for two months now, and—"

"And that doesn't matter. You know why?" She said, still speaking with the confidence of someone who knew what they were saying was true and were just waiting for everyone else to catch up. "…Why?" He repeated, unsure of where she was going with this.

She reached out and booped him on the nose. "Because that boy is head over heels in love with you."

Shouto blinked.

Uraraka's grin faded into a gentler smile. "I may have only met him a few times, Todoroki-kun, but I'd have to be blind and deaf not to see how madly he loves you. And I know you love him too; you sitting here moping like this over an emoticon is proof enough, and that's without mentioning how you light up like a christmas tree around him in a way I've never seen before." She squeezed his arm. "So don't worry so much, 'kay? As soon as he's ready we're gonna go kick some villain ass and you two lovebirds will be together again, I already know it." Her smile turned mischievous. "That'd probably be a great moment for a proposal, y'know."

She was lucky she was on his right side, because his left went up in flames.

Even as his classmates scrambled for the fire extinguisher and Bakugo screeched in the background about the sprinklers like a feral cat, there was the sound of Uraraka cackling and Shouto couldn't help but crack a tiny grin.

We're coming, Izuku, he thought, picturing his boyfriend's sweet smile instead of the stupid rabbit emoticon. I promise.

It was time. Usagi had lined up the dominoes like a grandmaster, and now it was time to watch them fall and create the beautiful pattern of chaos and destruction he'd designed piece by careful piece.

Now, to put the final domino in place, so he could knock it over and watch it all unfold.

"Hey, Himi-chan? You have a second?"

Usagi wiped the blood off his knife on the shirt of the corpse he'd just used it on. Some might get a little squeamish over that.

Usagi was not some.

Time for phase one to begin.

"What's up, Usagi? Ooh, do you have a super special secret crush to tell me about?!"

"Heh, something like that. C'mon, I'd rather not talk about it somewhere so public…"

Usagi walked out of the room, locking the door behind him. Toga Himiko was taken care of.

"Hey, Dabi, would you mind grabbing me something from the freezer? I'm… not tall enough…" He pouted.

"Fine, whatever. Here, what do you want?"

"Hmm. Changed my mind, actually." Clang.

Dabi's body dropped to the floor. A hit to the temple with the butt of a knife would do that to you. The clang came from the door to the walk-in freezer shutting and locking; it was so nice of them to choose a base with a freezer made of tungsten. It was practically made for him, and Usagi wasn't one to waste conveniences.

Twice was locked in the basement, Spinner was disarmed and tied to a chair in an empty office. That just left the final boss and his sidekick.

"Hey, Tomura, can you help me beat this level? It's giving me some trouble."

"Tch, fine. Give it here, I'll show you how a real gamer does it."

"Cool, thanks! Here, I'm having trouble with this—" Thwack.

"Shit, almost let his hands touch the ground." Usagi carefully caught Shigaraki's body, lowering it so his fingertips weren't touching the ground. He very cautiously put a pair of artist's gloves on his hands, before wrapping each of them in duct tape until it looked like he was wearing mittens, then cuffing those together. He was taking no chances with Decay.

Now just the sidekick—

Ah, speak of the devil.

"Tomura Shigaraki, we must—" Kurogiri walked into the room. Before he could do more than flare his mist in surprise, Usagi was holding a picture up to his face and talking.

"Shirakumo Oboro. Your name is Shirakumo Oboro. You're a second year at UA High. Your best friends are Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi. Remember, Shirakumo Oboro."

When the yellow lights in the mist started to flicker erratically, Usagi knew his job was done. The final phase was complete.

He went back to the office with the computer, broadcasting a signal to UA and the local police, a grinning rabbit. That should be good, as far as symbols go.

He went to another room and unlocked and knocked on the door. "Himi-chan? You can come out now."

Usagi had already taken care of the sniveling doctor, pinning him to the wall with knives when he'd tried to activate his nomu.

All that was left was the big boss. The Criminal Underlord; The Boogeyman. Call him what you will.

Usagi called him a pathetic excuse for a human body, hooked up to a dozen machines just to survive.

The Underlord had tried to talk to him, then had tried to use Quirks on him. Unfortunately, a body can only survive so long without oxygen, and the first thing Usagi had done was cut off his air supply.

The Underlord died a painful, undignified death. Usagi made certain of it, slicing his neck open and standing there until the blood stopped flowing. Then, he'd wiped his bloody knife on the body's clothes and walked out.

It was the only way to keep everyone safe, a small voice in his mind whispered.

Where did that come from?

He shook it off; he needed to stay focused and take care of the League now.

Himiko opened the door, uncertainty lining her face. "I don't like this, Usagi," she said, and he shook his head. "Don't do it, Himi-chan. They're not worth it. You need to get out of here, now. The Pros and cops are on their way."

She glanced between Tomura's body, still unconscious on the living room floor, and Usagi's face. "Please, Himi-chan, I don't want to have to stop you, but I will."

She looked uncertain for a moment longer, before her expression smoothed out and she nodded. "Thanks, Usagi. For this, and for what you said about my Quirk." She leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek, flashing him a fanged smile. "And for being my friend. I'll see you around."

She disappeared out the front door, just as sirens began to echo in the distance.

Shouto wished the police car he was getting a ride in would go faster.

Izuku had sent the signal; it was time to go get him. Damn the stupid speed limit.

When they finally arrived, he'd all but leapt out of the car, frantically scanning the area for a familiar head of green hair. He tried to ignore the anxiety squeezing his insides as he didn't see it, until he did.

There was that green hair, poking out of the side door of the building. "Hey guys, don't shoot! It's just me!" The words were called with that cheeky jovialness unique to Usagi, not Izuku. Damn it.

"Wow, that's a lot of people. You really just need to arrest these guys, I took care of the incapacitating part." Say what now?

As much as Shouto wanted nothing more than to scoop Izuku into his arms and kiss him until he'd forgotten the pain of their separation, he forced himself to wait. He waited while Izuku walked them through what he'd done, leading them to each incapacitated villain — telling Aizawa-sensei and Present Mic to stay away from one, for now — and giving them the rundown of how he took down each one. Except Toga Himiko, who'd apparently gotten away.

He also directed a group to a secondary location. "The guy who made those weird genetic freaks is there, and be careful 'cause a bunch of them are too. Seriously, ick."

And Shouto couldn't stand it anymore. He walked over, checking that Izuku had technically told them all they needed before dragging him away. He didn't notice how 'Usagi' the chatterbox hadn't said a word since Shouto had appeared until they were alone.

"Izuku," he said, and Izuku'a expression shuttered. "Name's Usagi, candy cane." He said dryly, but Shouto could see his hands shaking. "Izuku, it's okay." Shouto said, taking a step closer. "You're done. You did it. We're all safe now, so you can come back." Izuku blinked rapidly, taking a step back and hitting the wall.

"Shut up, man. I don't know what you're talking about." His voice trembled. Shouto advanced a step, and suddenly found a knife to his throat. He stared ahead into green eyes, unafraid. Izuku would never hurt him.

"Come back to me, Izuku. Please." He said, voice barely above a whisper. Izuku's adam's apple bobbed. "Don't make me lose you."

Don't make me lose you.

Izuku blinked his eyes open, and the memories came flooding in. Everything he'd done over the past two months after forcing himself into the persona of Usagi so strongly he hadn't allowed himself to think of Shouto at all. Everything he’d forced himself to forget.

Speaking of— "Shouto," he breathed, and only then realized he was still holding a knife to his throat. He tossed it aside, hand shaking. "Oh my god. Oh my, Shouto—"

Shouto gathered him close, soothing him as his breaths stuttered as his mind was briefly overwhelmed. When he finally calmed down a little, he realized he was sobbing into his boyfriend's (boyfriend!) shoulder. Well this is familiar, he thought with a hysterical little giggle.

"Izu?" Shouto's warm, heavenly voice asked. "Yeah?" Izuku responded, adoring the feeling of being in Shouto's arms again, crying or otherwise. God, he'd missed this.

It was over. It was finally over. No more League, no more undercover. He could just do what he wanted, be with Shouto, exist as himself and no one else. It felt exhilarating. It felt terrifying. It felt freeing. It felt like coming—

"Welcome home."