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You know that look in someone’s eyes when they’re completely enamored by somebody? When their gaze slightly lingers and they blink real slow, as if they’re taking in every detail of their loved one. How their pupils expand and it lets everyone around them know how fucking in love they are. Yeah, that smitten look. Obviously, Katsuki Bakugo has recognized it before, but not more than he did now in his second year at Yuuei.
Everywhere he went, he heard some stupid shit about a new couple or relationship popping up. First, it was Ojiro and Hagakure, but they’ve been going steady since first year. Then, all of a sudden it was Kaminari and Kirishima, Yaomomo and Jirou, and now some random love square involving fucking Sero and his massive crush on Todoroki. What kind of brain damage did the war give his classmates??
Katsuki sat among the chaos, blocking out anybody who tried approaching him. Usually, they were just gossip-hungry first-year girls looking to talk just to talk, but that day in the lunchroom, it seemed like everybody had something to say. And the common denominator appeared to be a green-haired boy with freckles that sparkled in the sun.
Izuku “Deku” Midoriya, the boy who saved the world less than half a year ago, sat two tables away. He leaned in close to Uraraka as she spoke quietly, her smile small and tired in a way it hadn’t been last year. Deku listened like he always did. Like she mattered, like every word deserved space. His laugh followed, soft and familiar, and Uraraka’s shoulders relaxed like she’d been waiting for it.
Yes, it seemed like everyone in the cafeteria was suddenly interested in Izuku fucking Midoriya’s love life, and it absolutely shattered Katsuki. He heard the whispers without trying. Saw the looks. The knowing nudges and raised eyebrows. They’re talking, someone had said earlier, like it was obvious. Like it didn’t twist something sharp and ugly in Katsuki’s chest every time he heard it.
The positive reinforcement only angered him even more.
“Midoriya needed someone gentle.”
“Uraraka totally deserves him!”
“They’re so similar, no wonder.”
Yeah, no wonder. Of course Izuku would want someone calm. Someone who understood his feelings. Someone who could level him when he was feeling down. Katsuki couldn’t… He couldn’t do that. With his fiery temper and constant need to compete, it’s obvious he’d never like him. Katsuki would only ever be his rival and nothing more. He slouched in his seat, folding his arms on the table and resting his head against them, peeking through his lashes just long enough to glare at the two of them.
“You’re staring again, Kats.”
“Shut up, Mina,” Katsuki grumbled into his sleeves. Mina rolled her eyes, pushing herself up on their lunch table and gently sliding a bag of chips over the blond’s way. “And for the damn record, I am not staring.”
She tilted her head in an “Are you serious?” fashion. “Babe, if the school wasn’t as dumb as rocks, I’m sure they would all clock you peeping Mido and Ochako.” She unwrapped her granola bar and took a bite, looking around the cafeteria before turning back to Katsuki. “Where are the lovebirds? And Hanta and Kyoka?”
“Tape Arms is over there with Half ‘n’ Half. No clue where Kyoka is. Ketchup and Mustard are probably making out somewhere,” Katsuki replied, not taking his eyes off of Izuku.
“Well that’s a little rude. Me and Eiji aren’t always making out,” a voice behind them said. Kirishima and Kaminari dropped into the seats beside Katsuki, exchanging a glance before following Mina’s pointed finger toward the other table.
“Ohhh,” they said in unison.
Mina snorted. The collective realization was more than hilarious. She looked over at a still-currently-gloomy Katsuki and pet his hair. “Awwh, poor Kats. I mean… even if they were dating, you’d know. Midoriya can’t lie worth shit.”
Katsuki stiffened. Just barely.
“The nerd doesn’t hide anything,” he added, letting Mina stroke his hair. “He blushes, he rambles, he trips over his words. If something was going on, he’d be broadcasting it to the entire damn school without meaning to.” His jaw tightened.
“So,” Mina said, more gently now, “maybe everyone’s just… wrong.”
Denki’s eyes lit up like someone had just flipped a switch in his brain. “WAIT.”
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Okay but, hear me out,” he said, leaning forward, already gesturing wildly. “Much to your surprise, me and Mido are actually pretty close. We have a lot of deep conversations, especially after the war.”
Katsuki shot him a warning glare. “Why the hell does he talk to you?”
“Because I’m emotionally intelligent,” Denki replied instantly. Kirishima hummed in agreement.
Denki snapped his fingers. “Anyway! I could totally bring up Kiri in conversation, right? Casual. Chill. And then he could perchance… open up about if he likes someone. Boom. Information acquired.”
Mina blinked. Once. Twice.
“…are you proposing espionage?”
“I’m proposing detective work,” Denki corrected. “I’ll be like, our own Sherlock Holmes.”
“Who?” Eijirou asked innocently.
Denki gasped. “You don’t know Sherlock??”
Mina sighed. “He’s an American fictional detective. Don’t worry about it.”
The redhead held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sue me.”
“We’ll watch it together sometime,” Denki waved off.
Katsuki had gone very, very quiet. Mina noticed, like she always did.
“Kats, we don’t have to do this. You can just keep staring at him longingly and waiting for him if that works for you,” she joked lovingly. “Katsuki Bakugo, the yearner. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“I am not a fucking yearner,” Bakugo spat out. “And I don’t care what you do. It’s not like I like that damn nerd or something.” Mina’s gaze softened before returning her attention back to Denki.
“I think that’s a great idea!! Let us know what happens, okay Denks?” Mina exclaimed.
The bell rang, shrill and echoing through the hallways. Students jumped from their seats and scrambled toward their next classes. Katsuki stayed planted, arms crossed, eyes still glued to Izuku and Uraraka, who were slowly walking toward the classroom, heads bent close together, laughing quietly.
Denki’s hand shot up. “Now watch a pro detective in action,” he whispered to his group of friends before sprinting off and strolling up to Izuku and Ochako, who were conversating near the lockers.
“Hi Kaminari! What’s up?” Ochako looked up and asked curiously, adjusting her bag.
Denki leaned on the lockers nonchalantly, looking off into the distance. “Ahh, nothing much. Just needed to talk to my boy Izuku!” He paused. “Alone!”
The two exchanged a glance before Izuku responded, “Alright then.” He gave Ochako a hug, and the girl walked backwards making a “Call me” signal with her hand. Denki caught wind of this and put an arm around Izuku’s shoulders, steering him in a different direction so they could walk and talk.
Once they were about a respectful distance from where Ochako previously was, Izuku asked, “So what was it you needed to talk about, Denki?”
Of course, Denki played it cool as he usually did. “Nothing of too much importance. It’s just that.. my anniversary with Kiri is soon, and I have no idea what to do!! I don’t know many good restaurants, and I have no clue what to gift him, and I don’t even know if Kiri wants anything!” Denki gripped his chest, leaning on Izuku for support. He could have fooled anyone with his performance, and it seemed like it fooled Izuku too. “It’ll break his heart, and then that’ll break mine. Please, help me Mido.”
“Ah, an anniversary! How wonderful, Kami!! Well, truthfully, you know Kirishima the best, so gifts would have to be on your part,” the green-haired boy started. “But for restaurants, I know a good one! It’s a little fancy, but Kacchan and his mom used to take me and my mom there all the time! It’s such a great place, they have amazing katsudon! And their sashimi plates are to die for. Kacchan usually pays whenever we go out, so I’m not sure how expensive it all is.” Izuku stopped himself mid-rant. “Oh god, I’m rambling again!”
Denki laughed it off. “No worries, Mido! You gotta tell me more about that place though, dude. Sounds great.” Denki smirked to himself. Time to drop the first bomb, he thought to himself. “You said Katsuki takes you there? What, like on dates?”
Midoriya blushed and froze in place. “N-no! Not like that!!” he stammered. “Our m-moms are good friends… you know this already!” Truthfully, their little outings sometimes seemed like dates, and Izuku didn’t mind them being called that. In fact, he enjoyed it. But the thought of Kacchan being angry for misunderstanding their friendship wrecked his nerves, and he wouldn’t ever dare risk that. “W-why do you ask?”
The blond burst into laughter, leaning on his knees to really pull off his act. “Oh, man. Mido, you know I was only joking right? You make it seem like you have a crush on the dude!” Denki’s laugh faltered. “…Do you?”
Now Izuku was truly frozen. Could he really explain his feelings to Kaminari?
Izuku isn’t entirely stupid. He knew about the rumors surrounding him and Ochako. All of the dating rumors, the talking rumors, someone even made a lavender marriage rumor! The two have joked about it and made it clear they have no romantic feelings for each other currently, no matter what their past said. Ochako’s sudden closeness to Izuku wasn’t out of romance; she needed somebody who could understand the weight of her grief, specifically around Himiko. In return, she let Izuku confide in her about his feelings for Katsuki. Truthfully, even Izuku couldn’t put them into words.
Izuku loves Katsuki, there’s no doubt to that. He loves how he pushes him to be the best version of himself. He looks up to Katsuki, seeing him as his inspiration to do better, to be better. In the shared looks during training, the way Katsuki corrected his form without touching him, the way he stood just a little closer when things got loud. Katsuki knows him on a level nobody else does, and that intimacy is something Izuku holds onto. Their goals match, their interests match, and even their childhood trading cards match. If that isn’t a sign from the universe, then what is?
And yet, Katsuki never said it. Never reached first. Never chose him where anyone else could see. If Katsuki loved him the way Izuku loved Katsuki, wouldn’t it be gentler? Wouldn’t it be obvious? Wouldn’t Katsuki look happier instead of constantly wound tight, like staying was something he forced himself to do?
Maybe Katsuki stayed out of habit. Out of guilt or out of responsibility. Maybe Izuku was the only one who didn’t know the difference.
He swallowed, heart racing, and looked at Kaminari, words caught behind his teeth. Would Denki understand the doubts that raced through his mind? Denki and Eijirou, the perfect couple. They went from strangers, to best friends, to lovers. If it were Katsuki and Izuku, they would have been childhood friends, to enemies, to rivals, to… soulmates?, to lovers. Their love seemed so strong and easy to understand and perfect. Izuku didn’t know if what he felt would ever be perfect.
“Um… I-“
BRRRRRRRING!
Denki looked up before staring at Izuku. “Warning bell. We gotta run! Aizawa sensei’s gonna kill us if we’re late!” He grabbed Izuku by the hand, jolting him out of his thoughts. The two sped down the hallways faster than Iida, and made it just on time before the real bell rung. Sure, they were scolded by Iida himself for running in the hallways, but it was better than being stuck on house arrest. Boy, did Izuku know a lot about that.
The classroom buzzed with low chatter as students filtered in, the aftermath of lunch still clinging to the air. Chairs scraped. Bags hit the floor. Someone laughed too loudly near the windows.
Katsuki was already in his seat, head in his arms on his desk, uninterested. His earbuds were yanked out by Iida who lectured him about “class etiquette,” but the blond couldn’t care less. Aizawa stepped into the room and Iida sped back to his seat, eager to get the lesson going.
Izuku sat in the seat in front of him, notebook already open. He rhythmically clicked his pen while he wrote down notes, stopping every so often to doodle on the side of his page. His hair was still a mess from running, curls sticking out at odd angles, cheeks faintly flushed. Katsuki’s eyes lingered despite himself, tracing the familiar lines of his back, the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed.
Focus, you idiot, Katsuki thought to himself.
Aizawa droned on from the front of the room, something about combat theory and response timing. Katsuki heard the words, registered them, but none of it stuck. His attention kept slipping, dragged forward like gravity had shifted. Izuku raised his hand. Of course he did. Earnest like always. Aizawa gestured lazily in his direction, and he launched into his answer, voice steady, confident.
“Wrong,” sensei deadpanned. “Close, though.” Izuku’s hand went from the air to the back of his neck, awkwardly chuckling.
Sero punched his shoulder playfully. “You were close, Mido! No worries.” Several of their classmates hummed in agreement. Now Izuku was really giggling. “Haha, thanks everybody!”
Katsuki’s fingers curled into the fabric of his uniform jacket. His grip tightened until his knuckles ached, breath shallow and controlled. He didn’t move. Didn’t look away. Didn’t allow himself the relief of anger.
The green haired boy in front of him had grown into someone else. In middle school, he was timid. Reserved. He didn’t give anyone attention to avoid it backfiring. Now? Attention was everywhere. In the first-years who looked up to him, in their classmates who have somehow grown close to him, and even in his teachers and mentors who believed he’d become great someday.
He was popular, and Katsuki didn’t know how to compete with that. Katsuki wasn’t the inspiration he looked up to anymore, because now people looked up to him. He wasn’t special to Izuku anymore. That thought settled heavy in his chest.
He loosened the grip on his jacket, fingers trembling, and slowly made himself focus on the board. It was quite difficult as his tears were blurrying his vision. Tears? When did those arrive?
Focus, Katsuki thought angrily to himself. You look like a fool.
But no matter how hard he tried, the only thing he could see was green hair, bright eyes, and a boy who seemed to belong to everyone but him.
sniff
That single sound was enough to draw the unwanted attention of everyone in the room. Heads turned to the right side of the classroom, burning holes into Katsuki’s back as they stared. Couldn’t they just leave him alone?
Aizawa’s voice cut through the murmurs.
“Eyes front,” he said flatly. “If you’re not taking notes, you’re at least pretending to.”
The attention shifted. Chairs creaked as students turned back around, interest dulled by the promise of homework and drills. Katsuki exhaled slowly through his nose.
Get it together. He wiped at his face with the back of his sleeve, rough and careless, like the motion could erase the evidence entirely. His jaw ached from how hard he was clenching it.
Just get through the lesson.
•••
Katsuki ended up right in front of the dorms without remembering how he got there. His phone lit up with an unread text from Mina, telling him to meet him just outside the dorm building. The cold air bit at his skin, and he internally cursed himself for not bringing a hoodie. He sat on a concrete ledge, earbuds in, waiting for the girl’s arrival.
Just then, Mina stepped out of the building, Ochako by her side. Katsuki froze at the sight of the brunette. With what happened earlier during class, there’s no wonder she wanted to talk to him.
Mina noticed immediately. “Relax, you explosive shit. If we wanted to interrogate you, we would have brought charts.”
“Or snacks,” Ochako added gently.
Katsuki scoffed. “What did you two extras want then?”
The brunette hesitated before quietly saying, “Mina says that you… were crying in class earlier.”
Shit. So it was about class.
“It’s none of your damn business,” he stated, rolling his eyes. “Is that all?”
Mina shoved Katsuki’s shoulder. “Don’t be like that, Kats. Almost everybody knew.”
That caught his attention. He glanced around, avoiding eye contact. “Hmm,” he uttered.
There was a pause. Ochako folded her hands in her lap, staring off into the distance.
“I know you think I’m a part of the problem,” she began again. “I’m not, but I understand why you would think so.”
The blond stiffened. “What are you—“
“It’s Izuku, isn’t it?” she asked, cutting him off. “I want you to know it isn’t like that between us. We never have been. Not since, like, the beginning of first-year. And that was a long while ago.”
Katsuki’s chest tightened. He hated how much relief those words gave him.
“He listens,” Ochako said. “And I needed someone who could do that without trying to fix everything. I’m sure you know all about that.” She finally turned to face Katsuki. “That’s all there was to it.”
Katsuki looked at her, really looked at her, and realized how wrong he was viewing the situation. They were just close friends. They had a bond unlike any other, and Katsuki shouldn’t have viewed her as competition. She was struggling, and Izuku was able to give her solace in her hardest moments.
She softly added, “And he doesn’t sound confused when he talks about you to me.”
Mina rocked back and forth on her heels, wrapping an arm around Ochako’s shoulders. “See, Kats? You had it all wrong. You were overthinking for no reason.” She smirked. “Besides, if ‘Chako over here was to steal anybody’s heart, it wouldn’t be Mido’s.”
Ochako laughed, breathy and surprised. “Mina.”
“What?” she grinned. “I have great taste.”
Ochako shook her head, cheeks pink, and laced their fingers together.
“You two don’t have to have everything figured out. Just… don’t think of yourself as out of his life. You have no clue just how important you are to Izuku,” Ochako said. The two walked away, Mina letting Ochako in first, before she finally added, “Bakugo, you’re still his person. He just doesn’t know how to say it yet.” Then she shut the door behind her, leaving Katsuki outside in the chilly air with his thoughts.
That small conversation gave him the hope he needed. Despite everything that’s happened to him, knowing that he was just as significant to Izuku as Izuku was to him gave him reassurance. He had spent so long assuming he’d been left behind, that Izuku had outgrown him in ways Katsuki couldn’t follow. But maybe it wasn’t distance he’d been feeling. Maybe it was fear of reaching, of being seen wanting something so badly it terrified him. Knowing that he was still chosen in ways that didn’t need to be loud or obvious grounded him. He rolled his shoulders, inhaled deeply, and finally unclenched his fists. For the first time that day, the thought of turning around didn’t feel impossible.
“Kacchan?”
•••