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It was Izuku’s tenth manga purchase this month. You couldn’t blame him—he’d been saving up for months for this. At least reading manga was something that took him away from his school routine, where he was nothing more than an outsider.
It wasn’t like Izuku was reading anything amazing, more like something a little cheesy—childhood friends to lovers. But hey, there were good manga out there, even though many… reminded him suspiciously of Kacchan. It would be silly to talk to his class bully just to tell him that some cheesy girls’ manga reminded him of him.
Besides, he didn’t read that stuff, right?
—
The day had been long and boring, always the same: sitting there at the back of the class with his head down, hiding his manga behind his notebook. It wasn’t as if anyone paid him any attention, or even as if he cared if they did.
When he finally left that place that was nothing more than a living hell, he set off for home with the evening sun hugging his back like embers. He couldn’t wait to get home and read some new volumes of a manga that had kept him intrigued.
He smiled softly, lowering his head to sink into his thoughts, not bothering to watch where he was going. Happiness consumed him from within—a bit cheesy, yes, but great.
He was so distracted that he didn’t realize he’d suddenly collided with someone until he was on the ground, his backpack open (he’d forgotten to close it because he’d been running), his manga scattered on the floor—way too many of them.
“Huh?” His gaze lifted toward the person he’d bumped into, unexpectedly finding himself face-to-face with… Kacchan?
He was visibly flushed, though Izuku didn’t know if it was from pure anger or embarrassment—maybe both.
“Watch where you’re going, Deku!”
Kacchan yelled at him, with that same anger he always carried.
Izuku immediately stood up, hurriedly picking up the manga, noticing that some of them clearly didn’t belong to him. His mind wandered—could they be Kacchan’s? But he wouldn’t read such cheesy stuff.
Or maybe he would.
Katsuki unexpectedly crouched down, picking up some manga that were on the floor—clean, expensive ones.
Izuku’s eyes widened, dropping down to Katsuki’s flushed face.
It was obvious that the blond was avoiding his gaze; he had remained crouched with the manga pressed to his chest as if they were his most treasured possessions.
“Go ahead and tell someone about this,” he began, in a threatening tone yet still full of pity, “and there won’t be any power that can save you.”
He narrowed his eyes. Hadn’t he noticed the manga Izuku was now holding in his hands? He could have ignored that and jumped right to accusing Izuku of reading cheesy stuff. Impressive.
He nodded, swallowing hard.
“Sure, Kacchan.”
He heard Katsuki let out a heavy sigh.
“You better,” he whispered, finally getting up from the floor, clutching the manga even tighter to his chest. They stood face to face.
Their eyes met, nervous, with a tension that was definitely not anger. Their restless pupils drifted curiously down toward each other’s arms. As soon as they realized it, there was a brief, uncomfortable silence.
“Kacchan…” Izuku began, interrupting softly.
Katsuki frowned back at him.
“Don’t even think about it…” he replied in a defiant tone that only served to make the atmosphere even more tense.
“Is that ‘Teki ga koibito ni natta toki’!?”
Izuku exclaimed in surprise, curiously reaching out toward Katsuki’s arms. Katsuki pulled away sharply, a look of disgust on his face.
“What’s it to you?”
“A lot! Even though it’s not one of my favorite genres, I love the story.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue.
“Obviously it’s not your kind of thing.” His gaze returned to Izuku, specifically to the manga he was holding in his arms. “You read nothing but cheesy stuff.”
Izuku pouted; he wasn’t going to let anyone insult his precious, expensive manga that easily. Well, he was the only one who could say his manga were cheesy—not everyone else.
“At least it’s better than that ‘s-s-’ stuff,” he stammered. “Enemies to lovers, ha, as if that ever happens.”
“So you’re saying that ‘childhood friends to lovers’ trash actually happens?”
Izuku spun around sharply, as if generations of his entire family had been insulted.
“What’s in your head is trash, you b-bully!” He swallowed hard, expecting a violent reaction from Katsuki, but got nothing.
“Idiot,”
he said, before storming off, clearly angry, almost crushing the manga in his hand.
Izuku let out a sigh of relief; at least he wouldn’t be coming home injured again.
—
Years have passed—long years—since they last saw each other, each holding a cheesy manga in their hands. Now, at almost eighteen and in their third year at UA, they haven’t spoken a single word about that day, nor have they even mentioned the title of any manga, pretending not to know each other whenever someone asked them about a recent one.
And yet, Izuku had gone and bought another box of manga, so big that it was invisible to the eyes of his gossipy classmates—and to Katsuki’s eyes.
He could wait until nightfall and rush the box back to his room, but the security guard might get suspicious of the package and do something to it—or, in extreme cases, even throw it away.
He wasn’t going to let them throw away a box that had cost him a fortune, but he didn’t want to be embarrassed either, especially in front of Kacchan…
Ugh, it was either that or an awkward moment. He’d definitely prefer the awkward moment.
When the sun dipped below the horizon, he received the notification for his package. A little late, but at least there wouldn’t be many people around when he returned with the box.
It didn’t take him long to go pick it up, despite the signature they always required. Now he was heading back with a giant box and a flashy title featuring an embarrassingly explicit image of two boys in a position… not exactly compromising, but certainly rather peculiar. He tried to ignore the tingling sensation on his face as some classmates from another grade passed by, greeting him so politely, ignoring—some on purpose—the box he was carrying.
As he was about to enter the large dormitory building, he bumped into someone… again. The box fell with a thud to the ground in front of him next to… another box?
He looked up to see who he’d bumped into.
Kacchan.
This had to be crazy—had they both ordered manga on the same day? He was speechless.
“What are you looking at?”
The blond snapped with hatred and a hint of embarrassment.
Izuku looked down at the floor, where both heavy boxes now lay, slightly dented but still intact.
He tilted his head slightly, briefly reading the title on the other box, unable to finish when an arm blocked his view.
He frowned, looking up at Katsuki, who was picking up the box in his arms.
“Mind your own business, Deku,” Katsuki replied, glancing briefly at the other box on the floor. “And keep reading that sappy stuff.”
However, before Katsuki could walk away, a hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
It was Izuku, with a look of determination.
“What do you want?”
the blond asked, breaking free from the grip with an aggressive shove.
“I-I like manga too,” Izuku stammered.
“And why should I care?”
Izuku pressed his lips together.
“Do we share interests?”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t read sappy stuff.”
“Yes, you do read sappy stuff.”
“I don’t. From enemies to lovers isn’t cheesy.”
“It is.”
A brief, heavy silence.
Katsuki sighed, relaxing his shoulders with a hint of doubt. His gaze softened, softer than Izuku had ever seen it.
“Sure, just for tonight, let’s swap interests.”
Izuku’s eyes sparkled with joy. His smile stretched to impossible limits, and his body gave a little jump of excitement.
“Sure!” he declared. “I’ll go get my manga… well, they fell.”
Katsuki, in response, simply clicked his tongue, offering no resistance.
Izuku ran over to the box lying on the floor and picked it up with a sigh. It was dented; it had cost him so much… Hopefully what was inside wasn’t dented too—that would be a shame.
“Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there feeling sorry for a box?” Katsuki asked, rolling his eyes.
The freckled boy looked up at Katsuki, his expression changing.
“Yeah… I’m coming.”
He approached Katsuki with the box in his hand, holding it as if it were his most precious possession (in fact, it was).
“Yeah, to my room?”
“No, to mine. Yours is full of geeky stuff and some weird obsession. I don’t want to see All Might’s face every time I turn my head.”
Izuku chuckled at the comment.
“Alright, but don’t be embarrassed when I see your manga collection.”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow.
“Embarrass me? I have more mangas than you have freckles.”
Wait…
“Do you know how many freckles I have on my body? I don’t even know that myself. How do you know?”
Katsuki didn’t even answer, already walking toward the dorms.
“Kacchan, don’t ignore me! How the hell do you know that?”
Izuku shouted, watching as Katsuki walked further and further away, almost running.
They didn’t look at each other the whole way to Katsuki’s room, the atmosphere tense.
However, when Katsuki opened the door to his room, the first thing that stood out was how extremely clean the room was, with everything carefully organized—unlike Izuku’s, which, though clean, didn’t have such a perfect organizational system.
The second thing that stood out was the bookshelf filled with manga from top to bottom, some with covers that were a bit… strange, others more subdued.
“Come in and shut your mouth before a fly gets in.”
Izuku didn’t even realize he’d been gaping, but he quickly closed his mouth and nodded, entering the room slowly.
“Close the door.”
“O-oh, right!”
Izuku was startled, mesmerized by the collection. He quickly set down his box of manga and closed the door gently.
Katsuki, on the other hand, was already in bed, opening the box with the greatest delicacy Izuku had ever seen in his life. It was strange… Kacchan had always been rough with his things.
“What are you looking at? Take out your cheap manga; I’ll show you just how much better MY genre can be.”
Izuku let out a sigh, walking over to his box and opening it as well. He was relieved to see that the contents were intact.
“So what are you waiting for?”
Katsuki asked, tossing a manga onto the bed.
“Oh, right! I’m coming.”
The freckled boy pulled a random volume out of the box and tossed it next to the manga the blond had thrown down.
“There!”
Izuku exclaimed, approaching the man as well.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow, taking Izuku’s manga as if it stank.
“My childhood bully fell in love with me?” he read. “Do you seriously read this crap? How much did you spend on this crap?”
Izuku pouted and snatched the manga out of his hands. He were grilling him alive; he couldn’t possibly tell them he’d bought a whole box of a manga just because it reminded him of the two of them. (Here we go again with that story)
“It’s a good story, nice artwork—better than whatever you’ve got there.”
Katsuki let out a sarcastic laugh at that comment, holding his manga up in the air.
“How can you say ‘From Bully to Lover’ is trash?”
Oh my god, Kacchan was an idiot. They were reading the same thing—how could he say Izuku’s manga was trash when he’d also be insulting his own?
“Kacchan, it’s the same thing,”
Izuku declared, trying not to laugh at his friend’s cunning.
“No!” he shouted. “Mine has substance.”
Izuku jumped onto the bed, sitting down next to Katsuki.
“It’s the same!”
Katsuki pushed him.
“No! Mine was a bully who fell in love years later with the person he hated.”
Izuku shoved him back, opening his manga. “Mine too! The only difference is that they were childhood friends.” He pointed at a scene.
“You already mentioned a difference: childhood, childhood friends.”
“What nonsense are you talking about, Kacchan?”
“There’s a fucking difference!”
Izuku leaned his face toward Katsuki.
“It’s the same thing!”
Katsuki leaned his head in as well.
“No, mine is 100% better!”
“Admit that you read cheesy stuff!”
“It’s not cheesy!”
Their foreheads collided in a matter of seconds, sending them both flying backward with a big red mark across the middle of their foreheads.
“Damn you!”