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The rooftop of his apartment building was always quiet, silent in a way that indicated no one had been up there for a long time.
No one except Izuku, that was. He couldn’t quite name when it started, the majority of his time in middle school long blocked out from his memory
After his mother would go to sleep, after he’d done all his studying and worked with All Might through the afternoons to become stronger, after he’d done all he’d needed to do for the day, that was when the rooftop called him.
He wasn’t usually close to the ledge. He never really wanted to step off.
There were closer days, sure, and also further ones, but it was, in many ways, simply the idea that he would always have an out.
If the rug were to ever be swept out from under him, the rooftop of his apartment building would always be unlocked. It would always be waiting for him like an old friend, gentle and kind in a way that he’d never been given by anyone else.
Even after he got One for All, after he got into U.A., even after he started to believe for the first time in his entire life that he might be missed if he suddenly were to disappear, he continued going up to that rooftop every single night.
He wasn't ever up there for more than an hour or so, but it was calming to have that kind of regularity in his life when it was rare for any type of routine outside of the exact hours of his school day to be maintained. Hero school was purposefully designed to not be regular or consistent, after all. Hero work never was.
The rooftop was also quiet in an utterly familiar way. The neighbor three blocks down always set off their own car alarm at exactly 12:31 as they hit the wrong button on their key fob. A dog two doors down would bark for hours simply because it was angry. Cars would go past on regular intervals, honking and beeping all through the distance. They were close to the city, but still in a residential area and all the distant noises that came with it. The noise wasn’t always the same, but it was simply the noise of life. Life that he was removed from by simply being on the roof.
Izuku had always assumed that pattern would continue even after moving into the dorms.
The door to the roof was still unlocked, he was thankful for that, and the air was as crisp as ever, but it was also distinctly different.
U.A., despite being located against a forest, was utterly silent outside at night.
There were no neighbors, no animals, not even the sound of a car driving past.
Even weeks later, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
It was really just never quite right.
It was on a random Tuesday night, not long after he’d fought Overhaul and rescued Eri, that the door to the roof squeaked without warning behind him.
He spun around quickly, preparing to jump up from his sitting position a few feet from the edge, when he saw who it was.
“Oh,” Izuku said softly. “It’s just you.”
Katsuki moved silently to sit down next to Izuku, staring up at the stars. “I figured I’d find you up here.”
Izuku just hummed, willing to let the boy who had once been his closest friend say whatever he needed. He didn’t bother asking how Katsuki knew. No matter the years, Katsuki had always kept a careful eye on him.
Katsuki, though, didn’t follow up for a few minutes, instead just gazing at the stars in silence.
“Why up here?” was the only question he asked.
Izuku gave a soft shrug. “It’s calming, I suppose. Even if I don’t think I could ever use it, there’s always an out.”
Katsuki was perhaps the only one he could actually admit that to. Anyone else would have reported him out of concern for his wellbeing. Katsuki, though, he couldn’t do so. Not when the boy knew that he was half the cause Izuku was up there in the first place.
Katsuki glanced away from the stars for a moment, taking a brief look at the trees which surrounded them on three sides. In the darkness, Izuku couldn’t see much of the boy, but he could just make out the conflicted emotions across his face.
“When did you first start?” he asked.
Izuku let out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding as the breeze whispered against his skin. “I’ve blocked out most of middle school.” It was the only answer he needed to give. Katsuki knew what he had done and he wasn’t proud of it.
“I’m not sorry.” The words were surprisingly soft in an uncharacteristic way despite their content.
Izuku, though, already knew this. He’d known it for a long time, now.
“I know,” he offered, more so to the sky and soft clouds overhead than his once friend.
Katsuki had always done what he believed was best. He had always thought that simply because Izuku was quirkless that he was also powerless. He’d always believed that Izuku was someone that needed protecting through thick and thin. And that was what had initially tore their relationship apart.
Izuku, despite everything, still tried to believe in himself, believing that he could be a hero, but Katsuki could never see above the failings which were only a result of genetics.
The silence continued to linger between them, not hostile nor tense, simply still.
When Katsuki finally opened his mouth again, it was only with words Izuku had already expected. Katsuki, despite his volatility, was ultimately predictable. “I just wanted to protect you.”
“I know,” he offered once again, but this time facing Katsuki properly. Despite everything else, he wanted to acknowledge the boy who’s shaped him all throughout their childhood. “That doesn’t make it any better. We can’t change the past.”
“There’s no fixing us, is there. Our relationship is always going to be fucked up.” It wasn’t a question. It was really never a question with them, not since the first spider lilies had been left on his desk in fifth year.
Izuku just sighed and shook his head. “You’ll always be my Kacchan, but you’ll also always be the one who hurt me.”
Katsuki only nodded, face unreadable beneath the stars but the soft tap of his fingers on the pavement behind him gave away his nerves.
“No matter how much I think I shouldn’t, I still trust you,” Izuku offered, despite everything. “You’ll always be the one I trust the most to have my back in a fight.”
“But not outside of the agency?”
Not outside of their respective jobs, not outside of the school, not outside of the training exercises and the schooling where they had to get along no matter what. Their final exam had proven that much.
“How could I?”
And perhaps, that was that.
Katsuki bowed his head slightly, acknowledging his words. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope we can start over.”
Izuku’s breath caught in his throat. “Someday, maybe.”
“That’s all I can ask for.”
Katsuki got up slowly and made his way to the door. Izuku watched him the whole time, but made no move to follow.
Katuski only gave him a single nod, meeting his eyes for the briefest moment before heading back inside for the night.
He wasn’t sure how, or when, he would be able to forgive Katsuki and start over. Perhaps he didn’t really have to? Perhaps it wouldn’t even ever happen.
Despite absolutely everything, though, despite the pain and the past and every single time that Katsuki had hurt him, he still wanted his best friend back.
It wasn’t today. It wouldn’t be anytime soon.
But they both had hope.