Archive of Our Own

I thought if I could ignore it, I could wait out the storm
The salt in my eyes, the pull of the tide
The crash of the shore
When the water's coming in
Am I gonna sink or swim?
I'm poking holes that I shouldn't, saying things that I wouldn't
(Going overboard)
No going back after this, I'm going down with this ship
(Going overboard)
Wish I wasn't sober 'cause that would shut me up
Spillin' words I've rehearsed but I'm still choking up
I'm going overboard or under

Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t someone who opened up. Like his quirk, he bottled everything in until it exploded. He preferred it that way. So, when UA required all of the students to attend ten sessions with a dedicated therapist and crisis response member, he refused. His refusal lasted as long as he could shoot a death glare at the woman sitting calmly in front of him.

His new therapist had black hair she slicked into a crisp bun and wore thick glasses. She told him to call her Yuna, her first name, he rolled his eyes and sat back on the couch with a groan.

“Is your temper tantrum over, Bakugou?” She pushed up her glasses as she crossed one leg over the other.

“Whaddya mean?” Bakugou was grumpy. This was cutting into his daily routine, but he just had to sit here for an hour once a week for ten weeks. He could do that. Didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

“Here you are acting like a child. Are you done? Or would you like me to bring out the dolls and we can treat this as a child therapy session?” Her voice was sharp. She wasn’t playing with him.

“Fine, what do we even talk about?” He kicked his feet up on the wooden table in front of him.

She didn’t scold him for it, instead, she warmly smiled. A complete attitude change from only moments ago. “We can talk about whatever you want. Nedzu has asked us to help you process the trauma of the war and from what I understand, you were a key actor in it, Bakugou. A lot happened to you that shouldn’t have happened. You’re still a kid.”

“‘M not a kid. If I can go to war, then I’m basically an adult. I’m seventeen anyways,” he shrugged.

“I see where you’re coming from, but your childhood was taken from you, Bakugou.”

“I’m better than the rest because I saved All Might. I got to fight next to Deku. That means more than school dances or whatever they do at normal schools. I signed up to be a hero and I’m going to be number one,” he was beginning to grow agitated. “Everything that happened during the war just shows that I’ll be the best.” He clutched his chest as finished speaking, almost to punctuate his sentence.

“Bakugou, are you okay? Shall I fetch Recovery Girl?” Yuna knelt down next to him and where most adults might have touched him to see how he was feeling, she kept her hands on the arm rest of the couch, waiting to see if crisis care was required.

“No, I’m still adjusting to all the stuff from after I died. My heart is never gonna be the same,” he said solemnly.

“How does that make you feel?” She returned to her seat.

“Like I’m never going to be number one.”
--
“Yo, Bakugou, heard you were one of the first they snatched for counseling,” Kirishima was in the process of racking his weights as Bakugou entered the weight room. He was allowed to start lifting as long as it was light, so he resigned himself to the lightest weights he could stand to be seen with.
Sigh. Two and a half kilogram weights it was.
Kirishima shot him a megawatt smile as he watched him lift his weights.

“Yeah, they made me go and everything. Only nine more sessions left.” A ripple of pain ran through his arm and he winced.

“Did you hear Midoriya full on refused to go? It was unlike him, he flipped a table and ran out of the room when Aizawa told him it was his turn.”

Kirishima had stopped the process of lifting weights and was fully gossiping with him, perched on the edge of his bench.

It was unlike Deku to flip a table and run away, but the nerd did always prefer to hold in his feelings. But to Aizawa?

“Deku probably just didn’t wanna be tortured.” Katsuki shrugged nonchalantly.

“Was it really that bad?”

“Gave me some woman named ‘Yuna.’ She wants me to call her by her first name and she gave me attitude,” he grumbled.

“Wow, she was able to start taming the great Dynamight. Maybe she’s the real deal. You should talk to Midoriya about seeing her. He hasn’t been looking great anyways. I don’t think he’s sleeping.” Kirishima looked to the floor with a sheepish look on his face.

“Nerd never sleeps. Swear he’s nocturnal at this point,” he grunted, lifting the weight to his shoulder.

“And that doesn’t bother you? Can you check on him? You and Uraraka are the only ones he’s really talked to after everything... you know...” Kirishima trailed off, waving his arm.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll talk to him.”

Kirishima smiled. “Thanks, Bro!”
--
Katsuki slid a plate of curry onto the table in front of the former One For All user, whose face was beginning to droop. Kirishima wasn’t lying when he said he was looking worse for wear. Deku had deep, dark bags under his eyes. Clearly, he wasn’t sleeping. He also had dropped a few pounds, if the absence of his baby fat in his cheeks was any indication of that. His hair was greasy and Katsuki swore he saw him in the same shirt three days ago when he came down for some water.

“Eat. You look like death,” Katsuki demanded, sitting in the seat next to him.

“Oh. When did you get here?” His eyes darted around the room, as if this were the first time he was seeing his surroundings.

“About five minutes. Now eat. I made it less spicy for you.”

“Thanks, Kacchan. Anything you cook is the best food in the world.” Wasting no time, he dug into the food. Almost as if he hadn’t eaten in days and honestly, Katsuki wouldn’t be surprised if he said he hadn’t.

“I heard something happened today?” Katsuki started, testing the waters.

“You heard about Mineta, too? How quickly do you think it will take to heal from an acid burn to the eyelid? Looked painful.” Izuku was doing what he did best and was avoiding. While he did really want to know what Mineta did to warrant acid to the face by Ashido, he couldn’t get distracted. He had a task here.

“No, not that, although I am curious. I heard you had a vendetta with a table.”

“Oh, you heard that,” Izuku’s voice turned bland and colorless. “I refuse to go to therapy. I have no problems that I need to talk about.”

Oh yeah,” Katsuki scoffed, “because flipping a table and running away really screams ‘I’m fine and have no problems,’ huh?”

“Leave me alone, Kacchan. I expected you of all people to understand why I don’t want to see a therapist. I can’t believe you went.” Izuku clutched his chest in pain dramatically.

“It’s an hour for ten weeks. All I gotta do is sit there and bitch. She’s annoying, but if I cooperate, it gets done faster.” He shrugged.

“I don’t want to talk about the war. What I saw. What I had to do,” Izuku growled.

Katsuki stood up. “Fine, I’ll just leave your mopey self alone. Enjoy the food or whatever.” He pushed the chair in a little too harshly, causing Izuku to flinch violently. Katsuki paused. “De- Izuku, are you okay?”

“I’m fucking fine. Thanks for the food, but I’m not hungry anymore.” He stood up and shoved past

Katsuki who could do nothing but watch as he stomped out of the kitchen before running up the stairs.

Maybe Kirishima was right. Deku was not okay.
--
“What kind of hero do you want to be, Bakugou?” Yuna asked at the start of their second session, looking up from her notepad. “And before you say ‘the number one hero,’ I want you to think more about the type of hero. Not the standing of the hero.”

This baffled him. All that came to mind was “the best” and he doubted she would take that as an answer.

“I see this has you troubled. Besides All Might, who is a hero that you admire?”

Before he could think, Katsuki responded with “Deku.”

“Deku... that’s the young boy who fought Shigaraki, right? He saved us. Is that why you admire him?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” he snapped.

“Deku... sacrificed everything for everyone. He gave up his only dream so that he could stop a villain and save people. He did it all and still fucking smiled at the end.”

“You speak as if you’ve known him for more than this school year.”

“I’ve known him my whole life. We were brats together. I did some really awful things to him,” his voice began to crack. “I was a bully. I told him to kill himself and he still continued on wanting to be a hero. Deku treats me like a friend when he should hate me. Why doesn’t he hate me!?” Katsuki felt tears begin to trickle down his face.

“I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about him. You have such intense feelings of guilt that you’re carrying, but I feel like there’s something more that you’re not sharing with me,” she leaned in closer and handed him a tissue. “Of course, I won’t force you, but remember, we can’t make progress if you don’t cooperate.”

Katsuki wiped his face with a sniffle.

“I love him,” he whispered.

“What did you say? I didn’t hear you.”

“I love him and he was ready to go out there on the fucking battlefield and die. Didn’t he think about those who loved him? Didn’t he think about our dream? He’s lucky all he lost was his quirk. He could have fucking died!”

“But, Bakugou,” she pushed her glasses up, “you died.”

His heart stopped.
--
He woke up in the recovery suite. He must have really upset himself. He really needed to get used to life with cardiac problems because he couldn’t be a hero if he passed out every time he got a little flustered.

Swinging his legs off to the side, he slid off the bed and began to wander into the hallway. He spotted Yuna talking in hushed tones to Aizawa, who was nodding along tiredly. When they noticed him, they straightened up.

“Bakugou, how are you feeling?” Yuna asked, her tone delicate.

“Fine. Can I go?” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the adults.

“Actually, we wanted to talk about something,” Aizawa started, cautiously.

“It’s my heart. Isn’t it?” Katuski interrupted.

Aizawa sighed. “Yes, it is. You have a long healing journey ahead. If you’re having symptoms of emotional distress, how do you think it’s going to be when your body is being pushed to the limit? We are going to work with some healers who do well with long term cardiac pain, but also, we are going to talk with your doctor and see what we can do. Until then, you’re on light duty.”
Katsuki felt his fists clench and his ears burn. “I’m already on light duty!”

“Take that and cut it in half. If you don’t take care of yourself now, you’ll never be the number one hero, kid.” Aizawa placed a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “Consider yourself lucky, Yuna’s cousin is who they call when professional heroes have heart attacks. He’ll be able to help you heal in half the time.”

“Then why wasn’t he called in first,” he grumbled.

“Well, too much quirk healing could actually do the opposite and damage a young body,” Aizawa admitted sheepishly.

“I already died. What more could happen?” Both adults shared stunned looks.
--
“Bakubro, why aren’t you suiting up with the rest of the class?” Screw Kirishima and his observant self.

“None of your damn business!” Katsuki snapped, only for a shock to hit his chest and cause him to double over in pain, all the air leaving his lungs as he wheezed.

“Bakugou!” A few of his classmates ran over. He could hear them asking if he was okay and distantly recognized someone asking to go get Aizawa.

“I’m fine,” he managed to get out through clenched teeth. “Just have to heal still.” Aizawa rushed in as he was finally able to breathe in air comfortably and stand up.

“Do you require Recovery Girl, Bakugou?” Aizawa asked, knowing that this was just going to be his regular life. Katsuki didn’t want to go see Recovery Girl every time he had a cramp. Maybe Aizawa understood that chronic pain didn’t always warrant a health room visit.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll just walk laps while you guys spar today.” He had already accepted his fate of extra light duty.

The class started to clear from his vicinity, but as he looked around the room, he locked eyes with Deku, who was wearing a traumatized look on his face.

“Deku, are -” Deku turned and booked it out of the room without saying a word.
--

“How are you feeling, Katsuki?” Yuna asked as she shrugged off her brown sweater. It was sweltering in her office.

When did she start calling him Katsuki? “Why did you call me Katsuki?” He blurted out.
Her eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that I had. I was reviewing your file beforehand and I must have just had the name in my head.”

“You can call me it or whatever.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s hot as hell in here.” He changed the subject. “Don’t you know I have explosive sweat? Are you crazy?” Katsuki wiped his hands on his pants.

“Sorry, the last client radiated heat as part of his quirk. It’s out of my control,” she sighed before grabbing her notepad and glasses.

“When’s that heart healer of yours coming?” He growled, remembering how he looked in front of the whole class. His face flushed hotter.

“He’s traveling here for you from America. Be patient.”

“I don’t want to be patient. I want my life back!”

“What does it look like to have your life back?” Another therapist mumbo jumbo question. He rolled his eyes.

“What a stupid fucking question. I want to be able to lift more than the baby weights in the gym. I miss sparring in class exercises and running laps. I miss moving my body the way I used to. I am going to be the best, you hear me. I can’t be the best if my body won’t catch up. You tell your cousin or whatever to hurry up, I can’t be left behind!” He was panting, taking deep, heaving breaths of air.

“Katsuki... I’m sorry. I didn’t do this to you, I know, but you are a child still. I’ve told you before that you had your childhood ripped from you and you never should have had to experience the tragedies you have. Your class lost a teacher, you’ve been gravely injured and you died. One of your peers lost their quirk. How many other disasters have to happen to your class before you see that this was not fair to you. Look at you now, you’re struggling with your health. If no one has told you this Katsuki: I’m sorry for what happened and it never should have happened to you.”

Suddenly, he felt small. Words failed him and instead a whimper escaped his mouth. Yuna handed him a tissue for the tears he hadn’t realized were falling.

“Let me turn off the lights. We can just listen to music the rest of the session. Do you have a playlist we can listen to?”

Katsuki nodded hesitantly before taking the pillow off the couch and clutching it to his chest tight. He wanted nothing more than a hug (from someone specific) right now, but was too scared proud to admit it.
--
“Bakubro! What happened to you in therapy? You look like someone kicked your cat.” Kirishima was of course the first to harass him the moment he entered the dorm.

“None of your business,” Katsuki muttered, heading towards the kitchen for some water.

“That therapy crap is hard work!” A voice commented behind him. He turned to see Kaminari approaching him. “My therapist made me talk about the war.”

“That’s why they’re here, dumbass.” Katsuki smacked Kaminari upside the head.

“I was able to talk to mine about Midnight. It was really good to talk to someone about everything.” Ashido appeared next to him, munching on a bag of seaweed chips. She offered him some but he turned them down.

“Therapy is good, though. I think that as heroes, we should always be our best selves and that includes taking care of our mental health,” Kirishima said, handing Katsuki a bottle of water.

“Kiri, that’s so wise.” Ashido had stars in her eyes as she looked directly at him, a goofy smile on her face. “We should be bettering ourselves to be better heroes!”

“You idiots are right or whatever. Had a hard session. Gonna go to my room and do my homework, alone.” Katsuki waved them off and took the water bottle.

They were right, though. His gaggle of idiots made a really good point. To be the best hero, you needed to have strong physical and mental health. Therapy was how you got stronger mental health, especially after all this trauma, he needed coping skills.

He was going to become a better hero. He will take therapy seriously.

He exited the kitchen and locked eyes with Deku, who wore a forlorn look on his face. Katsuki wanted to hug him. Was overcome with the overwhelming urge to comfort him, because clearly something was wrong. His bags were getting worse and he was starting to look ghostly.

Deku wanted nothing to do with him because he bolted out of Heights Alliance.
--
Yuna and Aizawa stood in front of him with a tall, lanky man with orange hair. This must be the cardiac specialist.

“Katsuki, this is my cousin, Ken. He can explain his quirk better than I can, but he’s the cardiac specialist we brought in.” Yuna motioned to the man who had his hands folded in front of him.

“Thank you, Yuna. Hello, Mr. Bakugou. I am going to explain how my quirk works. You’re going to lie down on your back with your shirt off and I am going to use my right hand. I don’t want you to freak out when it happens, but it basically phases inside of you to attach to the heart. Once latched onto the heart, it emits a warming energy to help heal any damaged parts of the heart or arteries. You will feel hot and sleepy for a while. It takes two to five sessions until it feels right. I can’t describe how it’s supposed to feel other than it feels right.” Ken’s right hand was glowing red.

“Is it just your right hand?” Katsuki asked, taking in all the information.

“The left hand helps in the case of emergencies. Basically, a portable AED.” His left hand let off a jolt of electricity.

“Oh, so you’re a hospital’s wet dream?” He crossed his arms and smirked.

“Bakugou, watch it,” Aizawa warned lazily, exhaustion heavy on his tongue.

Ken chuckled, “that’s one way to put it. I threw a lot of information at you. Do you have any other questions?”

“Yeah, when can I start?”
--
Katsuki laid on crinkly, white paper. It was uncomfortable, but he was told it was necessary, so he rolled his eyes and accepted his fate.

“Are you ready? If you feel discomfort at any point during this, please speak up. The last thing I want you to be is in pain or discomfort.” Ken pulled a pair of glasses out of his pocket and slid them over his ears.

“I’ve been ready. Waiting on you,” Katsuki groaned.

“I’m going in.”

“Creepy.”

Ken’s hand glowed red and Katsuki refused to break eye contact with it, even as it disappeared into his chest. Abruptly, he felt a tightness in his chest and he assumed it was Ken latching his hand onto his heart. Then came the warmth and it was overwhelming. He began to sweat. Panicking, he forgot to mention he had explosive sweat, but the sensation of exhaustion overtook him and he couldn’t speak clearly.

“I ha- explosive swe-” He fell asleep before he could finish his sentence.

The ceiling welcomed him as he blinked open his eyes. He looked around, forgetting where he was. The movement of his head made him dizzy, but he recognized that he felt better than before. He sat up and slid off the bed, only to see two people walking towards him. It took him a second to realize it was Recovery Girl and that walking AED, Ken.

“Bakugou, how are you feeling?” Recovery Girl asked, shooing him back into the bed.

“A little dizzy, but actually kinda better,” he admitted, laying back down.

“We forgot to factor in your nitroglycerin. Seems like it caused you to have a stronger reaction to my quirk than we anticipated. However, it was a success. I think you’ll only need two more sessions to consider yourself as healed as you could possibly be.” Ken smiled confidently.

“Thank fucking god,” Katsuki said, holding a fist to the sky. “I will be the number one hero one day. Just you see.”
--

“Shrink, thanks for bringing that walking AED. I feel better already.” Katsuki threw himself onto the couch in the therapist’s office.

“Shrink?” She whispered before chuckling, “I’m glad you’re feeling better. Do you want to talk about how the healing went? Your heart has gone through a lot and it deserves to heal.”
Those words triggered something in him. His mood dropped and he held his face in his head.

“My... heart...?” came out in a warbled voice.

“What’s going through your head, Katsuki?” Yuna’s voice was delicate, he hadn’t noticed she shut the lights off in response.

“I died,” he whispered

“Yes, you did. Is this something you want to process today? We have the time. I have no one scheduled afterwards.” She pulled her planner off her desk and scanned her schedule.

“I wanna talk about it. Or start. It all feels like a weight in my chest ready to explode.” He froze and then chuckled darkly, “I suppose I shouldn’t put it that way.”

“It happened to you. You’re allowed to talk about it whatever way that helps you.” Her smile was annoying, but he felt comforted nonetheless.

“You know my heart exploded. I was already injured beforehand. Shigaraki had me in a chokehold and destroyed my arm, but I didn’t give up. I couldn’t give up. What kind of hero would I have been if I had just given up? All I remember thinking before jumping in with my plan was that I needed to beat him because that is what Izuku would do.” He clenched his fists.

“Izuku?”

“Shit, Deku.”

“Ah, I understand. Do you want to talk about him today?” Something twinkled in her eye. He supposed it was because she knew his secret.

“I’m not ready to talk about him, yet. I’ll need two sessions for that.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. It’s just my heart has gone through a lot and somehow, I made it out. It feels weird. I lived. Edgeshot sacrificed parts of himself to save me. Shrunk himself down to the size of a worm to make sure I was able to breathe again. Why was I worth saving when I couldn’t win against Shigaraki?”

“Your life has value, Katsuki.” Her delicate voice felt like a warm blanket. He believed her.

“Yeah, it does. Because I’m gonna be the number one hero!” Pointing a finger into his chest, he jumped up from his seat on the couch.

“I know you will, Katsuki.”

Breaths were coming in short pants as he scrambled to put his thoughts together until all of a sudden, he froze.

“You know, there’s something I remember from when I died. I never hear people talk about what happens after they die. We assume there’s some sort of heaven or hell. I’m surprised I didn’t land in hell,” he chuckled. “But, I remember this white space with a ghost. I saw All Might and I was able to talk to him. Is it weird that I saw him before I died?”

“Not at all. There are plenty of people who have come back to life thanks to quirks. They have talked about the odd experiences that death was. I watched a speech by a man who was in a car accident and died as did his wife and he reported seeing his wife in her wedding gown before he was brought back. Sometimes, when you’re in that space, you see what comforts you.”

“I never asked for his autograph...”

“I think you should. That’s your homework. Go get All Might’s autograph. I’m sure he’d give it to you!” Yuna shot her signature smile at him. A scowl painted his face in response.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

She looked at him, then down at her notes, and then back at him. “I think next session we should talk about Deku.”
--
It was a normal Thursday during lunch time when he decided to strike. He had long memorized All Might’s schedule: he’d have tea with Nedzu until classes started, then he bounced around various heroics classes until lunchtime, which he ate in the teacher’s lounge with Aizawa and Present Mic. Until classes let out, he would monitor other exercises and offer students pointers.

Lunch time was his best chance for this to work. He had a poster and a marker at his disposal.

This was it. What did he have to lose?

Raising a fist to the door, he knocked loudly three times and stepped back, waiting.

The door opened to reveal Present Mic holding what smelled like coffee and wearing a large grin on his face. The kind of grin that revealed all your teeth. And he had some pearly white teeth.

“What can I do for you, little listener?”

“I need to talk to All Might,” he managed to speak with the confidence expected of him.

“Come on in.” Present Mic held the door open wide so that Katsuki could step into the room.

Once he entered, he realized it wasn’t a special place. There were two tables in the room, a couch, a fridge, a tea kettle and a coffee maker. Very simplistic. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but maybe something more extravagant for the number one hero school.

“All Might, Bakugou said he needed to talk to you,” Present Mic said before heading back to his own lunch.

The hero was sitting on the couch in his deflated self (that he was working to convince himself wasn’t his fault), drinking tea.

“Young Bakugou, what can I do for you?” All Might placed the tea cup on the table in front of him and turned to face him.

“Weird request but,” he held out the poster and pen in front of him “canIhaveyourautograph?”

Laughter hit his ears and his arms fell. “Oh, nevermind,” he said, dejected.

“Young Bakugou, of course you can have my autograph. Why, I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner. Is this what you wanted me to sign?” All Might took the poster from a silent Katsuki.

“You have good taste. This was a limited edition poster of my bronze age costume. I remember that day we shot the pose, I had to wear so much makeup because I had a black eye.”

The marker swirled across the bottom of the poster before he handed it to Katsuki with a twinkle in his eye.

Just then the bell rang.

“Better not be late to class, Aizawa is strict,” he warned.

“I heard that,” a muffled voice spoke from what sounded like underneath one of the large tables.

“Look at me! Running late to class, just like a normal person!” And then he was gone. For a quirkless person, he moved pretty damn fast.

Holding up the poster, Katsuki gasped at the message, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes:

To my hero, Dynamight

--
Classes had ended for the week and many of the students were deciding to go home. After the war, families grew closer together, fearing the worst could happen again. They wanted to spend as much time together as possible with each other. Katsuki understood why, he had gone home a few times to spend the weekend with the hag and his old man. Their weekend would consist of banter, movies, arguing and finally his father breaking down in tears as he left. This weekend, however, he was staying behind. He not only had a therapy session, but he wanted some time to himself. He’d been putting in a lot of emotional labor lately and Yuna said he needed to practice “self care.” So, he decided to forgo his visit home and spend the weekend focusing on himself: cooking his favorite foods, working out in peace and lounging in the common area with no extras to bother him.

The plans he had been making were interrupted by a “psst, Kacchan.” If he opened his eyes, he knew he’d see Izuku in front of him.

“Denki snuck me in a bottle of vodka. Do you wanna come to my room and drink with me? We can make a night out of it. Watch a movie.”

“I can’t. I have a session with my therapist,” Katsuki groaned.

“Skip it. It’s stupid anyways. They think talking a little bit is gonna make us okay with our trauma,” Izuku scoffed bitterly .

“So, you’re admitting you have trauma?” Katsuki chuckled.

“Shuddup.”

“Fine, missing one session won’t hurt.” The two walked side by side to Izuku’s room.

“How’d you convince him to get you the booze?” Katsuki asked as he entered the dorm room.

“He offered. Saw me after my whole ‘flip the table thing’ and said he knew a guy in the support course who has helped him out before and he thought I needed to take a chill pill. Offered weed too, but said I’d have to talk to someone different for that.”

“Stick with alcohol. Weed’s gonna make you anxious. Knowin’ you and all,” Katsuki hopped onto the bed, laying down and spreading out.

“Move over, heathen,” Izuku grumbled. Katsuki sat up and made room as Izuku joined him, a crystal clear bottle of vodka in his hands.

He twisted open the cap, the seal breaking open with a ‘crack.’

“You want the first sip?” Izuku held the bottle out to him.

“Why? You scared to try it first? I’m no pussy.” Before Izuku could respond, Katsuki snatched the bottle and took a gulp of the liquid. It burned and it took all of Katsuki’s control to not spit it back out. He swallowed it down.

“Nice one, Kacchan,” Izuku deadpanned, grabbing the bottle and taking a long drink. Katsuki lowered the bottle, causing him to sputter. “What!?”

“Don’t forget to breathe, nerd. Why are you in a hurry to black out so fast?”

“Just liked the taste is all...” Izuku’s voice got quiet.

“You’re a shit liar. Always have been.” He took the bottle from Izuku and took a healthy swig. The liquor sliding down easier this time.

“Just haven’t been sleeping well. Nightmares, you know?” He pulled his knees to his chest and laid his head on his kneecaps, a troubled look on his face.

“Wanna talk about them?” Katsuki offered, taking the bottle, capping it and putting it on the desk.

“You go to a few therapy sessions and suddenly you wanna talk about everything. The war was hard, Kacchan. I just need to get over it.” Katsuki couldn’t help himself from letting out a cackle at Izuku’s words.

“Do you even fucking hear yourself? Get over a war? You should go to the damn therapy sessions, Deku.”

“You don’t get it, Kacchan.” Izuku snagged the bottle and drained approximately three shots worth in less than a minute.

“Deku, you’re going to make yourself sick. Gimme that,” Katsuki snatched the bottle from him.
He got off the bed to put the bottle on the other side of the room. He couldn’t deal with the nerd being blackout drunk today. Turning around he heard something that made him stop dead in his
tracks.

He heard sniffling.

“Deku, what’s wrong?”

“You were dead...”

“In the war? Yeah, but I lived. I’m better than death.”

“I should’ve -”

“Deku...”

“Get out.” Izuku abruptly shot up and glared at him, his voice rising.

“No, we should talk about this and -”

“I said, get out of my room,” he growled.

“Fine.” Katsuki stomped out of the room and slammed the door on his way out.
--
The room was spinning. Why did he think that drinking was a good idea? He should have just gone to therapy.

Hand against the wall, he managed to make his way to his room a few doors down. The door unlocked and he threw himself on his bed.

Throwing himself onto the bed seemed to be the wrong decision as dizziness became his best friend.

“Fuck!” He punched his pillow as hard as he could muster while drunk.

He allowed Deku to bring him down to his level. Allowed him to convince him to skip the session so he could get drunk and show him the exact reason he needed help. The war was eating Deku alive. There was so much he needed to process and he was trying to do it alone. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was ignorance. Either way, the nerd needed serious intervention.

Regardless, Katsuki should have just gone to therapy.
--
“You missed our session,” Yuna was mad. Katsuki could tell in her voice. She was the type of angry where the person is so upset, they’re calm.

“I didn’t wanna come,” Katsuki kicked his feet up on the table harshly.

“Feet off the table. Do not disrespect my property. I understand wanting to miss a session, but we talked about having the decency to inform me beforehand. You have to make up the session. UA wants ten, complete sessions. That means you’re not getting out of this. Now, explain.”

Katsuki was beyond shocked as he slowly removed his feet from the table.

“I was with Deku,” he whispered.

Suddenly, Yuna was back in her professional counselor mode. “Did you two talk?”

“We got drunk,” he admitted with a flinch.

“Was that smart and conducive to your healing?” She crossed her arms. Fucking know-it-all.

“No, it was a fucking stupid decision and I wish I didn’t make it. Deku needs help and I’m worried about him. He’s got that post-traumatic thingy.” He waved his arm back and forth.

“You think Deku has post traumatic stress disorder?” She definitely looked confused, but also concerned.

“I know it, shrink.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. He was the main actor in the war. Shigaraki was after him and I’m sure he saw a lot of loss.” She tapped her fingers against her chin absentmindedly.

“He mentioned seeing me dead. Like there’s more there.”

“Are you implying you’re to blame for his condition?”

He shrugged. “Was responsible for All Might losing his quirk. Wouldn’t surprise me if I was too weak and that led to me indirectly giving Deku that trauma thing.”

“Stop that. Let’s reframe that. You are not responsible for causing anyone’s loss of anything and you are not weak.” She snapped her finger.

“How do I change those thoughts?” Begging was beneath him, but if he could stop feeling inferior, he’d do anything.

“Reframing your thoughts takes time. I’ll teach you some strategies. We can start with affirmations.” She started digging through her desk drawer until she pulled out a little packet of cards. “Pick three of them!”

Groaning, Katsuki got up and looked at the affirmation cards. “Better not be cheesy,” he mumbled.

The rainbow deck was splayed out in front of him. All he had to do was pick three, it wasn’t rocket science. So, he grabbed three at random: one in the middle, one on the left and one on the right. All for measure, and maybe a little bit of luck.

He flipped them over.

“I want you to read those to yourself every morning. Make it part of your routine. Just like brushing your teeth.” The cards found their way back to their home.
He nodded along. “Oh, and by the way, I got All Might’s autograph. He wrote me a little note.”

His voice was small.

“How did that make you feel?” Stupid therapist mambo jumbo lines again. He rolled his eyes.

“He called me his hero.”

“See, you’re not weak if the number one hero called you his hero. You saved him. Remember that you saved people too, Katsuki.”

Just then, the memory of the way he felt after defeating All For One slammed into him. “You know, maybe you’re right.”
--

Once Ken slid on his glasses, he immediately got to work. Katsuki appreciated a man who didn’t waste time with pleasantries. His hand phased through Katsuki’s chest and latched onto his heart, only to begin its healing process.

This time, they took extra care to ensure Katsuki didn’t have a bad reaction like before. An ice pack lay under his head and a cool washcloth across his forehead. Shivering slightly, his body was full of contradicting temperatures. The cold surrounding his head, combined with the heat flushing through his body.

“How are you feeling?” Ken asked, a serious expression written on his face. Ah, he was deep in focus, scared of complications.

“Not dizzy like last time if that means anything,” he grumbled.

“That’s an excellent sign. Glad you’re not gonna die on me,” the man chuckled.

“That’s a possibility?!” Katsuki had to mentally hold himself back from jerking. He wanted his heart healed and life back to normal... well, as normal as can be after the war.

“Eh, only once and it was because he had a heart condition.”

“You’re supposed to FIX the heart conditions!”

“Calm down, it was when I first started doing this. I was still learning how to use my quirk. I beat myself up every day for his death. I can still see the moment the life left his eyes.” His face fell, voice softened, eyes telling a story of loss and pain.

“I guess I sorta contributed to someone’s death too, but he was a villain, so it’s a good thing he’s dead.”

“Is death really the best punishment?” Katsuki froze. He wasn’t expecting to get philosophical today.

“I want those bastards to suffer as much as possible, but in his case, Tartarus couldn’t keep him contained. Death was the best option for him. He needed to be wiped from all existence.”

Katsuki felt his jaw tighten as he spoke. The tension building higher and higher. He wondered if it would snap and if Ken would be on the receiving end of his rage.

“If you’re talking about that degenerate One For All, then he’s better off burning in the fires of hell for the rest of eternity. You did the world a favor, young man. You helped rid the world of a parasite. Your death story is one of justice, don’t ever feel bad about contributing to the end of his reign of terror." The room grew quiet, almost as if Ken knew Katsuki was afraid to speak and he respected his silence as a response.

The two continued the session in amicable silence, the warmth continuing to flow through Katsuki’s body as the ice enveloped his head.

Ken removed his hand from Katsuki’s chest and helped him sit up. “Do you feel better than last time? You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?”

Katsuki shook his head side-to-side. “Nah, I just feel like I have heartburn.” He rubbed his chest, hoping to ease the growing burning sensation in his chest.

“That’s pretty common. Stay hydrated and maybe eat blandly afterwards.”

“Spicy food is my entire diet,” Katsuki spoke bluntly.

“Tonight you’re having toast and you’re gonna like it. Dunno what to tell you.” Ken shrugged as a smile tugged on his lips.

“Whatever.” Katsuki rolled his eyes and jumped off the table.
--
As he pushed the toast down to cook, he heard footsteps behind them. Hearing the click of the toaster, he made his way towards the water fountain to fill his water bottle. He really should be staying hydrated. Not because that walking AED told him to, though. Because staying hydrated is important to being healthy. Yeah, that’s exactly it.

“Kacchan, you’re making toast? You never eat toast.” Deku’s voice was no surprise to him. After everything that’s been happening, he was expecting Deku to be there in the most inopportune times.

“Yeah.” Choosing to focus on filling his water bottle and hydrating himself, he more or less ignored Deku’s question. If there even was a question there. “Just surprised you want to talk to me now.” Maybe Katsuki wanted to start a fight today. His schedule was wide open. He had the time to argue with Deku, just like old times.

“Kacchan...”

“By the way, my therapist was disappointed I missed our session. I still think you should -”

“I’m not going to therapy! I’m fine! I just have a little trouble sleeping is all. Nothing that a little melatonin or benadryl can’t fix.” Katsuki noticed how Izuku’s fists were clenched and his pupils were wide. His body had a slight shiver to it as he stood there attempting to convince Katsuki that everything was a-okay.
The toast popped.

“Sure, Nerd, whatever you say.” Katsuki grabbed his toast, no longer wishing to engage with his denial tonight.
--
“Shrink, how do you get someone to go to therapy?” The moment Katsuki entered the room, he asked Yuna his question. He hadn’t even sat on the couch and he was bombarding her with
questions. No ‘hi, how are you’s.’ Straight to the point.

“Katsuki, you can’t force someone to go who doesn’t want to go.” Her tone was soft, sad almost.

“You don’t get it. He needs to go. The PTSD is so glaringly obvious he might as well be wearing a sign that says ‘I fought in a war.’”

“Is this about your friend Deku?” She cocked her head to the side.

“Of fucking course it is. Everything is always about Deku! I can’t escape the asshole.” Crossing his arms, he kicked his feet up on the table loudly.

“Well, Katsuki. It almost seems like you care about him,” she teased, a smile on her face.

“Fuck off. You know how I feel about him.”

“I know. I’m sorry for teasing. You know you can’t force him to accept help. He’s got to recognize he needs it himself.” Her tonal shift made the atmosphere feel tense. Katsuki threw his head into his hands.

“I’m tired of seeing him hurting. I want to comfort him, but I can’t. He won’t let me in. What should I do?” He cried, exasperated, voice raspy against the tears that were beginning to form.

“You just show him that you love him.”

“And what do I do when that’s not enough?”

“Katsuki, don’t give up on him. Don’t give up on you. The war was hard on both of you in different ways.”

“I fucking died. He didn’t get to experience that. Shigaraki held me by the fucking throat ready to present my corpse to Deku. Do you know how hard it is to hear that you’re just there as fuel to the fire? That the villain just thinks you’re a two bit extra that circulates around Deku. He doesn’t know what I went through!”

“Katsuki...”

“Every time someone talks about the war, they only talk about Deku. No one talks about the other people who fucking made sacrifices! I fucking died! Why does he get all the glory when I fought just as hard too. I helped eliminate All For One. Doesn’t that mean something? Sure, Deku saved Japan, but he wouldn’t have done it without all of our help.” His breath came in short pants as his face grew warm.

“Katsuki, breathe in for four counts with me. Okay, one, two, three, four. Now, hold for four counts. One, two, three, four. Exhale four counts. One, two, three, four. That’s called box breathing. Let’s do it again.” Katsuki repeated the exercise a few more times, noticing his heart rate decrease a little each time he exhaled.

“Sorry, didn’t realize I felt so strongly,” he grumbled.

“Your emotions are valid and this is a safe space to express them. Don’t forget that. What about we talk more about these feelings of insignificance that you have? I notice them coming up a lot when you talk about Deku.” Her pen moved across her notebook page as she had a thought.

“I’ve always been competing with Deku. Just you see. I’ll catch up with Deku in no time.”
--
It was a normal Thursday evening when a knock arrived on his door. It was too gentle to be Kaminari or Kirishima and too unstructured to be Iida or Todoroki. He’d bet that it was Deku. He opened the door a minute later to be proven right. Deku stood there awkwardly in his grey sweatpants (drool) and t-shirt that read ‘work-out shirt.’ Katsuki rolled his eyes as he read the shirt. Some things he will never grow out of.

“Whaddya want, Deku? It’s close to my bedtime.” He wasn’t lying. He went to bed around eight thirty and it was eight o’one right now. He still had to brush his teeth and take his meds.

“We need to talk.” There was a serious look in Deku’s eye. Serious enough that Katsuki sat down with a “yeah, okay.”

“I can’t sleep at night, Kacchan,” he admitted, exhaling as if that took a load off his back.

“No shit. Those bags make you look like a goddamned panda. That’s not why you’re really here, though.”

“I can’t sleep because every time I close my eyes I see myself powerless as you lie there dead on the battlefield!” Tears began to pool in Deku’s eyes. Always the crybaby.

“I’m sorry you have to see that, Izuku, but there’s an easy way to cope with them.” His tone was even and calm.

“If you recommend therapy one more time, I’m Detroit Smashing you into next week,” Deku threatened.

“Kinky,” Katsuki whispered under his breath.

“Kacchan,” he warned.

“Fine.” He crossed his arms. “Was there a reason that you came?”

“Do you dream?” Katsuki snorted.

“Yeah, Deku. I dream about rainbows and unicorns as all of our class sits in a circle holding hands and singing kumbaya.”

“That’s actually really nice, Kacchan. I -”

“Are you actually a dumbass or are you stupid?”

“Well, those mean the same thing and -”

“Izuku, I am tired of pretending you’re okay. I know I can’t force you to get help, but until you acknowledge there’s something wrong with you, I don’t want to fucking be around you.”

“But Kacchan -”

“No, I can’t do this, Deku. You’re not well and here I am working through all the shit we went through while you stand by and deny anything is wrong. Clearly something is wrong! You look like shit. You’re not sleeping, you’re flighty and you look like someone killed your pet cactus!”

“No, not Edgespike...”

Katsuki stopped his speech. “You named your cactus Edgespike? Like after Edgeshot?” His eyebrow quirked up comically. A sliver of an amused smile dancing on his face.

“He saved Kacchan, so he’s worth remembering.”

“As a cactus... You know what, nevermind. This isn’t going anywhere. Get out of my room, I don’t want to see you anymore. In fact, don’t talk to me until you can learn to handle yourself.” Katsuki placed his hands on each side of Izuku’s shoulders and pushed him out of his room.

Gripping the door handle, he slammed the door on Izuku, not even caring that he looked distraught and had the beginnings of tears streaking down his face.
--
“I slammed the door in Deku’s face.” Katsuki hadn’t even sat down before he began speaking.
Yuna choked on her drink, water dribbled down her chin as her eyes widened. “D-did something happen?

“Yeah, he was being a fucking wuss. I can’t be with him if he ignores that there’s something wrong with him. I’m tired of it. His behavior impacts me too! His avoidance is driving me up a fucking wall.” He plopped down on the sofa with a sigh.

“I can tell he means a lot to you.”

“You got that out of me being annoyed by the prick? Did you know he named his cactus
Edgespike? How fucking ridiculous of him! I can’t believe he -”

“I really can see how you love him.” Yuna’s voice remained even as his heart dropped into his stomach.

He didn’t respond.

“You want him to get better so much that it’s hurting you. I’m proud of you for respecting your own boundaries.”

“I can’t watch him hurt himself like this anymore,” he sniffled, voice small.

“What do you want to do about it?” She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs over top of each other, smoothing down her tan skirt.

“I wish he could just know how I feel about him.” Katsuki threaded his fingers through his flaxen stands and pulled.

“Sounds like you want to confess to him.”

Confess? That would mean telling Deku that he liked him more than rivals. More than childhood friends. Romantically.

He would have to say the words: I like you Deku- no, Izuku. He’d have to use his first name lest he be reminded of the pain he inflicted on him as a stupid kid.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Katsuki. You are looking as if you want to head down that path.”

What would Deku even say? What if he rejected him? How could he continue to move on? He supposed he could ask Yuna.

“I just want you to know Katsuki, revealing your feelings towards him isn’t going to magically resolve his mental health issues. That’s his struggle to handle. You are not responsible for fixing it.”

“Yeah yeah. I know that. You don’t have to use your therapy shit on me.” He waved her off.

“What are you going to do, Katsuki?”

He sighed, knowing he had one choice from here.

“I’m going to tell Deku how I feel.”
--
Vermillion eyes met their match as he stared back at himself in the mirror. His hair was unkempt and it was past his bedtime, but he wanted to make sure this all went perfectly. Call Katsuki a perfectionist or whatever you want to, but practicing for every outcome prepared him and gave him peace of mind.

“Izuku, ever since you held your hand out to me as kids, we’ve been orbiting around each other. You’re my whole world, I want nothing more than to be in your gravitational pull for the rest of my life.” Glaring at his reflection, he stuck his middle finger up and screamed “fuck!”

“That’s the cheesiest fucking thing I’ve ever said in my goddamned life.” He turned and kicked his dresser, foot connecting with a loud crack.

“Fuck! That hurt!”

Faintly, he heard a pounding on the wall next to him. “Shut up, Bakugou!”

“Shut the fuck up, Shitty hair!”

He stomped over to his bed and threw himself into it. It was bedtime anyways. He had time. It’s not like the nerd had anyone else knocking down his door asking for a date. At least not lately. He was close with that half and half bastard, but he only had eyes for that tape dispenser or was it shitty hair? Maybe it was that living rulebook. Maybe Icyhot was just accidentally flirting with everybody. Sometimes he did offer to buy people expensive things without thinking of the consequences.

Regardless, he wanted to date Deku and he would beat up anyone who stood in his way. Except, he was the only thing standing in the way of his chance to date Deku.

“Izuku, I really like you. Would you like to go out with me?” He whispered before sleep managed to overtake him.
--
“This better be the last time I’m ever going to see you,” Katsuki snarked, ripping his shirt off and laying on the crinkly, white paper.

“You’re always so cordial,” Ken said with a wide smile. “How are you doing, Bakugou?”

“Call me Katsuki, you’ve been inside me. That’s as close as people can be,” he grumbled.

“Well, I’m going to pretend that didn’t make me sound like a total predator.” Ken got right to work and phased his hand through Katsuki’s chest.

“You know what I mean.” Katsuki placed the ice pack underneath his neck.

The two sat in amicable silence as Katsuki’s heart was tended to.

“How’d you find out you had this quirk?” Katsuki asked.

“A hug. Albeit a very awkward hug. My teacher was not happy with me that day even though she found out she had an underlying heart condition. Maybe that’s why she was so unhappy.”

Ken stared off. “My family never made me feel like I was lesser for having such an odd quirk.”

“Your quirk isn’t odd. I literally saw someone where their head was a goddamned spray bottle,” Katsuki chuckled.

“That is pretty unique. Can’t say I’ve ever seen that. Did see a girl who couldn’t stop attracting all the magnetic items in her direct vicinity. All that stress on her heart caused an irregular heartbeat that I was called in for. I suppose I should thank my family. My mom had a quirk that allowed her to shock people. She functioned like an AED. My father had a minor healing quirk. Me being born like this was unprecedented. Never thought I’d be so sought out for my quirk.” His voice dropped and Katsuki noted he sounded almost sad.

“Heh, sounds like your path was chosen by your quirk.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Oh.”

“I used to play the violin. Incredibly well. I wanted to become a performer, but my quirk is too vital to let it go to waste.”

“‘M sorry I brought it up.” Katsuki felt uncomfortable, a clammy sweat breaking out on his palms. Wishing to wipe them on something, he shifted and moved to swipe them against his sweatpants.

“We are almost done. Katsuki, I think you are going to be so happy with the results.” A smile graced Ken’s face as he pulled away from his chest.

“You mean I-”

“You can return to full duty. No more holding back. You will still need to keep up with regular doctor’s appointments and meds, but you are cleared to return to heroics.” Ken rubbed some hand sanitizer into his hands.

“I can’t fucking wait.” A manic smile broke out across Katsuki’s face.
--

“Ken told me you finished your treatment.” His therapist did not like to wait for him to settle down. She utilized every last minute of therapy.

“Yeah, I’m back and I’ll be the best. I’ll be number one over shitty Deku. Just you see.” He pointed his finger at her.

“I have no doubt you’ll be a great hero. You’re strong, have a powerful quirk and you are empathetic.”

“Fuck you mean ‘empathetic?’ I hate people.”

“You say that, but here you are caring for someone because they’re hurting.” She sounded soft, delicate. The kind of voice you use when you’re afraid a child might act out.

“You make me sound soft.”

“Trauma will do that to you.”
--

“Bakugou, I was told you were cleared for regular duty,” Aizawa asked as he leaned over the lectern, voice tinged with exhaustion.

“You better bet your fucking ass I’m back to full duty. I’m gonna show those extras what they were missing while I was out recovering.” Katsuki’s fists clenched tight.

“Language,” he scolded. “In that case, you can spar with Midoriya. You could use some practice with hand-to-hand combat. He’s a good teacher.”

“Don’t you mean I’ll be teaching him?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Bakugou.” He waved him off.

Katsuki turned and stomped towards where Deku had been leaning against the wall, fixing his compression sleeves.

“Let’s go. We’re partners today. I’m gonna beat your ass,” Katsuki promised. And threatened.

Deku did a double take. “You’re allowed to participate in class?”

“Yep, I’m all clear. That walking AED is a fucking miracle worker. My heart is as good as new, which means I can take you down, Deku.” His fist smacked against his open palm loudly.

Deku’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Bring it on, Kacchan.”

Katsuki struck first, never afraid to be the first to attack, fist swinging wildly only for Deku to catch it in his palm.

“We haven’t talked since I told you I didn’t want to talk to you,” Katsuki started, deciding to be the bigger person and start the conversation.

“Kacchan is mean.” Deku swung his other fist. Katsuki saw it coming and ripped his fist free from Deku’s grasp before parrying to the right and wrapping his left arm around Deku’s torso.

“Is all you got from that that I’m mean?” Deku twisted out of his hold and held Katsuki’s arm straight out, placing another hand on his back, effectively forcing Katsuki to bend over.

“I’m sorry, I’ll think about therapy. It’s just that the war was hard on me, Katsuki,” Deku grumbled as Katsuki pushed his weight forward and with his free hand, tackled Izuku to the floor.

“The war was hard on all of us, asshole. You can process it in therapy.” They switched positions, Deku now overtop of Katsuki, staring deep into his eyes, which were wet with unshed tears.

“Katsuki, I saw a life without you for the first time ever. I don’t want to live in a world where you’re not my hero.” A single tear ran down his cheek.

“You won’t,” Katsuki whispered, not trusting his voice.
--

The room was thick with unspoken secrets. Katsuki sat back on the couch, staring off into space.

“Katsuki? Are you okay? You’re concerning me.” Yuna shot him a worried look, her eyes wide.

“I think I want to ask out Deku,” he blurted out.

Yuna was taken aback. “You are certain about this?”

“Yes. I’ve been practicing in my mirror. I think I am finally ready to ask him out.”

“Can I ask a question, you don’t have to answer me, but what do you like most about Deku?”
Katsuki thought about it for a second. “I’d be stupid to say I don’t find him attractive, but that’s not the quality I feel strongest about. I’ve never met someone else more born to be a hero than him.” A warm feeling spread across Katsuki’s chest and he jumped. “Something is wrong with my heart. My chest is warm.”

Yuna laughed in response. “Katsuki, nothing is wrong with your heart. Well, physically wrong with it. It’s just you have feelings for Deku and it’s given you butterflies. This is totally normal. In fact, it’s healthy.”

Butterflies? This is what it felt like? This fluttery, warm and light feeling in his chest and stomach. Deku gave him butterflies. He sounded like he was a school girl, ugh.

“What do you want to say to him? Do you want some practice?”

He nodded. “I want to tell him that he means a lot to me. That I want to fight by his side and that
I would die for him. I did die for him.”

“I have notes, but let’s work on some phrasing together.”
--

“I can do this. Yuna and I practiced,” Katsuki whispered to himself, hyping himself up before this big step. He even glanced at the affirmations before grabbing the handle and exiting his dorm room.

It was Sunday and the class was in the common room deciding on a movie for a movie night. Kaminari’s squeal was the first thing he heard as he entered the space.
“It’s The Room! It’s so bad it’s good. Come on,” he whined. “Let’s watch it.”

“Bro, I am so exhausted after all this therapy shit. Let’s have a Disney night. You can pick the princess.” It was uncharacteristic for Kirishima to curse, so he must have had a rough session.

Katsuki ignored them and scanned the room, focusing on the one person he wanted to see.

“De-”

“Kacchan, can I talk to you?” Izuku beat him to it. Little shit. “In private.”

He wouldn’t meet Katsuki’s eyes and his right hand held his left arm at the elbow. Nerd must have hurt himself again. He’s never going to learn.

“Whatever,” he grunted, but followed him towards the alcove behind the staircase. There was a slight echo as the door swung shut, but neither boy paid any mind to the creaking.

All he had to do was say the words: ‘Deku- no, Izuku, will you go out with me. Perspiration broke out on his forehead and his wicked it away with a flick of his wrist.
It’s now or never.

“Izuku, I-”

“Kacchan, willyougooutwithme?” Deku’s fists were clenched anxiously in front of him and his eyes were wide, hopeful.

“Are you fucking kidding me?

“You could just say no,” Deku said, voice wobbly.

“I was going to ask you first. How dare you ask before I did?” Katsuki grit his teeth and let out a groan.

“Kacchan was- Kacchan likes me back?” Deku was using his fingers to connect the dots.

“Fucking duh. You think I would have hounded anyone else to take care of themselves the way I’ve done to you?” Katsuki threw his hands up.

Deku surged forward, gripping Katsuki’s shirt in his hands. He pulled him closer and then he could see the pores on his face and feel his lips and - oh, they were kissing.
Oh shit! They were kissing!

Katsuki melted into the kiss. His lips were soft and tasted sweet. In this moment, he didn’t care that they had been fighting or that they had all this history. In this moment, they were Kacchan and Deku- Izuku and Katsuki, and they were going to be boyfriends.
Katsuki savored this kiss for one more second before pulling away.

“I’m not dating anyone who won’t work on themselves.” Katsuki spoke clearly, but softly while looking directly into Deku’s eyes.

Izuku sighed, suddenly looking defeated.

“I’m serious, Deku. I just did all this therapy shit and it’s made me realize that we went through shit we never should have gone through. I am gonna beat you, even if I’m by your side and I can’t be the number one hero if I freak out every time I see you.”

“What are you saying?”

“Go to one session, Deku. If you don’t like it, I won’t push anymore. I’ll make you katsudon and
we will watch one of your cheesy All Might movies,” Katsuki begged.

“All Might in Paris is one of your favorites, too, Kacchan,” Izuku pouted.

“You just like it because he beats that villain with a baguette,” Katsuki groaned.

“So, therapy?”

“And then a date.”

Izuku sighed before offering Katsuki a small smile. “It’s a date.”
--

Katsuki walked through the door knowing this was the last required session by UA. He didn’t know what he would do afterwards. Despite his initial reluctance to it, he actually felt… better.

Maybe this therapy shit really did work.

“You made it to session ten unscathed,” Yuna smirked. Cheeky bastard.

“Yeah yeah, keep yappin’” He used his hand to mock her. She giggled in response.

“How do you feel after everything?” She asked earnestly.

“Like I’ve been put through a ringer emotionally, but it’s not all bad. I guess I feel like I understand myself a little better, but, Yuna,” he said her name for the first time, “I don’t wanna stop coming to these sessions.”

“Are you saying you want to continue attending therapy, Katsuki?”

He paused for a beat before responding, “yeah, I do.”

She smiled genuinely. “That can be arranged.”

“Deku asked me out.” He blurted out.

“Oh? That escalated quickly.”

“I told him he can’t date me unless he goes to at least one therapy session. If he hates it, then he doesn’t have to go again. I just want him to try. I don’t want to date someone who won’t work on their issues. ‘Specially after the damn war.” He mumbled at the end of his sentence.

“I think that’s a fair boundary to set. I’m proud of you for setting a boundary without bulldozing his.”

He ruminated on that for a minute. Before, he might have just steamrolled and demanded his own rules. He must really love Deku.

“Does any of this shit get easier?” He sighed.

“You’ve made significant progress in ten weeks, Katsuki. I’d say you’re proof that, what did you say, ‘shit gets easier.’” She made air quotes.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“And, from what it sounds like, you encouraged Deku to take that next step. I’m proud of your progress. You should be too.”

“Don’t get all sappy,” he groaned.

“What can I say? I’m known to be sappy now and then.”

“Maybe I should get a new therapist,” he teased.

“I’d like to see you try. Who else will deal with your attitude?” She hounded back.

“I’m going to Aizawa now and telling him I want to change.” He stood up abruptly.

She smirked. “Same time next week?”

“Seeya then, shrink.”