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Katsuki had a routine.
He woke up with the sun so that he could get in a good workout before his shift. The extras always wondered if he worried about running out of energy if he used it before work, though Katsuki only rolled his eyes. Their fear of pushing themselves to the limit was why they couldn’t break the top ten, while Katsuki had settled into the number four spot easily. Still, that wasn’t good enough, so he increased his cardio each morning to steal the number one spot.
After he ran until his legs gave out, Katsuki would take a well-earned shower and scrub himself clean. Katsuki kept a shower caddy of his supplies in the largest stall, and every other hero knew not to touch it. Since he was the only one that early, he took his time, following the moisturizer routine made specifically for his quirk. The last thing he needed was a weird film on his skin from cheap lotions. So he paid the extra money to have Mei work her magic, and he never skipped out on her directions.
And then, with a towel around his waist and his skin steaming from the shower, Katsuki opened his locker and smirked. “Alright, let’s see what we’re working with today.”
Reaching up, Katsuki grabbed the edge of the papers waiting for him. Shutting the locker with his hip, Katsuki straddled the bench and sat down, his eyes scanning the chicken scratch on the page. When the ‘weekly update’ started showing up in his locker four months ago, he struggled to read the handwriting. Whoever wrote it looked like he’d been on a bucking bronco when telling Katsuki the benefit of adding a few kicks into his signature moves. But as the months passed, Katsuki’s eyes adapted to the quirky penmanship. Now it was more recognizable than his own. The run-on sentences and rambling hid the intelligence inside the words.
“How the hell did Muscular get out again?” Katsuki asked the empty locker room, frowning at the report next to the clipped picture. According to the report, the large villain was meant to be transferred to a higher-security facility. Scoffing, he shook his head at the copied report. “And they only put one set of cuffs on him? Are they stupid? Now I gotta clean up their mess again.”
But the normal irritation he felt over others not doing their job didn’t feel as intense. He still scowled, but it lost some of its bite when seeing the next page of notes left for him. As if reading Katsuki’s mind, a list of Muscular’s weaknesses and how Katsuki’s quirk was ‘perfect’ to combat him covered the space. There were a couple of tidbits about muscular’s quirk that even Katsuki didn’t know, despite his thorough research on each villain he faced. The notes suggested which places in Katsuki’s patrol area would be best to fight Muscular in, and which heroes he should pair up with. He hadn’t even put on his suit, and he was already charged up and ready to face the villain.
He wasn’t sure why Best Jeanist and Edgeshot had implemented the morning reviews. It came out of nowhere, but Katsuki knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Whoever they hired, the person knew their stuff. From move sets, to possible improvements for his uniform, it was refreshing to have a set of eyes that were just as passionate as him. Getting information on the villains on their radar made it safer for the civilians. Not only that, but it limited property damage and helped boost his image when his words failed him. Even if he didn’t say it out loud, Katsuki knew a part of his growth had to do with the report others didn’t seem to be taking advantage of.
At the bottom of the last page was the common sign-off.
Go Plus Ultra, Dynamight!
“Tch.” Folding up the page, he tucked it into the top of the locker before snagging his uniform off its hook. “Don’t need it with you around, Nerd.”
Giving the report a final look, Katsuki shut the locker and spun away, ready to start his day.
~**~
“On your left, Shitty Hair!”
Katsuki shouted at his fellow hero while he rocketed into the air, scanning the plant villain now trying to destroy the water fountain in the middle of the park. He avoided a spray of vines before he moved toward the man’s back, the information from the report spilling into his head. A plan easily formed while he blasted the next set of vines, looking over at Todoroki.
“Oi, Icyhot,” he called out, waiting for the quiet man to finish his ice barricade around the fountain to turn toward Katsuki. “His power is like that vine girl from Class B. Singe it at the roots and he’ll need time to grow them back.”
“I can’t get close enough to directly attack the growth spot,” Todoroki replied, Katsuki letting his hands spark before charging forward.
“Sharktooth and I will distract him from the opposite side of the park. He can only shoot the creepy hair in one way, so you’ll have full access to his quirk. Make it count.”
Without waiting for Todoroki’s answer, Katsuki jetted forward, calling to Kirishima as he shot past. Thankfully, the idiot didn’t question him, following the plan he’d mapped out in his mind. Just like the notes from that morning told him, the distraction worked without a hitch. The villain wasn’t able to direct the vines in more than one direction, leaving him helpless to Todoroki’s fire when aiming for Katsuki. With a scream and one swift right hook from Katsuki, the man was knocked unconscious. The police swarmed in as soon as Kirishima gave them the sign, cuffing the defeated man and dragging him away. Katsuki shoved through the intrusive interview and post-battle medical care to get back to the agency.
But he couldn’t outrun the two annoying shadows that followed him into the locker room.
“Dude,” Kirishima said, fluttering around Katsuki like an excited mosquito while he started taking off his gauntlets. “That was so cool! You’re totally going to go up a spot after all that.”
“Not that it’ll help much,” he muttered, glaring over at Todoroki. The man sat stiffly on the bench, hands folded in his lap while he watched Katsuki tugging off his accessories. “With Prince Zuko over there, he’s gonna get as many points as me. Why are you even here, anyway? Go be a statue in your own locker room.”
If Todoroki noticed the insult, he didn’t acknowledge it.
“But you were the one who came up with the plan,” was his monotone response, Todoroki tilting his head. “Without you, Kirishima and I would have struggled to contain him.”
“How did you know the trick about the vine directions?” Kirishima asked.
“It was in our notes.” Katsuki scoffed, tossing his gloves into his locker. While he rolled the top of his uniform down to his waist, he answered the obvious question. “If you read the morning memos, you would have actually learned something.”
“Morning memos?” Todoroki’s confusion paused his undressing, ruffling his hair to fix his sweaty spikes before glaring at the hero.
“What, are ya too cheap to pay for them at your agency? Jeanhead and the wannabe ninja got some special team to analyze our fights and help us with upcoming villains.”
“Huh?” This time it was Kirishima who seemed perplexed. “When did that start?”
“Months ago. Seriously, what do you store in your head, extra rocks?” Annoyed at Kirishima’s lack of knowledge, Katsuki leaned up to grab the memo from that morning, tossing it over to the idiot. “How the hell did you miss these in your locker?”
“Dude.” Blinking, Kirishima flipped through the pages, shaking his head as he looked through the sloppy notes. “I don’t know where you got these, but they’re pretty sick.”
“You’re—” Frustrated, Katsuki stormed over to Kirishima’s locker, easily blowing off the lock on it before yanking the door open.
“Hey, I just bought a new one after your last freakout!”
“Shut up,” Katsuki snapped out, looking around the mostly empty space inside the locker. There were no notes on the top shelf, the dust that collected on his fingertips proving nothing had been put there for months. Confusion bled into his chest as he spun around, watching Kirishima lean over Todoroki’s shoulder while showing him the report. “The two grandpas don’t play favorites, even if they know I’m the best hero in their agency. So if they didn’t do it for the whole place, then what the hell is going on?”
“Oh,” Todoroki tapped the page once before nodding. “I know who wrote these.”
“Hah?” Katsuki crossed his arms over his bare chest, narrowing his gaze. “There’s no way you can tell just by looking at their handwriting.”
“Why not?” Todoroki asked, turning the conversation back onto him. “You’ve spoken as if the same person wrote you these notes, but you don’t know them. Isn’t that the same thing?”
Refusing to admit Todoroki was right, Katsuki huffed. “Okay, let's say I believed you. Why the hell would you know the person writing me these notes?”
“Because Izuku writes out his hero analysis by hand.” The name seared itself into Katsuki’s brain as Todoroki continued. “Sometimes he asks me to review them for grammar and spelling errors.”
“You’ve always been pretty good with that stuff,” Kirishima said, tongue poking out from the side of his mouth while flipping to the next page of notes.
But the pathetic reasoning only left more questions. “Who the hell is Izuku?”
“The top analyst for Deku’s Department for Diagnostics,” Todoroki answered like he was the nerd’s personal promoter. “Hawks sends most of the new heroes to him so that he can evaluate their fighting style and current gear. He’s able to highlight every quirk user's strengths, weaknesses, and how to better improve their current gear. Sometimes he’s asked to do re-assessments if a hero has been injured to support their return. Izuku’s been crucial for some of the biggest reforms regarding uniform safety and allowing all quirks into the field of heroism.”
“What kind of quirk can do all that?” Katsuki asked, Todoroki blinking like he’d spoken another language.
“Izuku doesn’t have a quirk.”
“Seriously?”
The information impressed him. Katsuki knew that people without quirks had made leaps and bounds over the past decade, but it didn’t remove all the stigma. Katsuki had been someone who thought quirks meant they were better until he stepped into UA. There, he came across several people who blew his old beliefs apart. From a woman who had her quirk stolen and was still helping her team, to a young girl who used her intelligence to make the suit that saved All Might’s life. But the one who shifted things for him the most was Aoyama, one of All For One’s victims. Seeing the lengths he and his family went through to escape being ‘quirkless’ twisted something awful inside him. After the war, Katsuki left the disgusting bigotry behind, supporting the integration of quirkless people into the hero society.
“That’s badass.” Kirishima, who didn’t know how to judge people, only grinned at the information. “I’ve got to go in and see if he can do one of these for me.”
“Back off,” Katsuki growled out, nose scrunching. Five minutes ago, he thought everyone was getting the report slid into their locker. But now that he knew it was something just for him, he didn’t like the idea of sharing it with anyone until he got answers. Snapping his attention to Todoroki, he nodded toward the note. “Alright, you know this nerd. Why is he sending me personal notes like this? Does he think I’m weak or something?”
“From how red he gets when we speak of you, I cannot imagine that’s the reason,” Todoroki answered, Kirishima letting out a whistle before nodding.
“Yeah, I have to agree with Todoroki. This guy’s basically mooning over you in these. You seriously didn’t notice? I feel it's kind of obvious.”
When Katsuki didn’t answer, Todoroki shrugged. “Izuku is aware of how important your rank is to you. Knowing what I do about him, this isn’t meant to be an insult.”
“So then, what is it?” When the two heroes only looked at each other, Katsuki groaned and stormed forward, snatching the pages. Aggravated at the lack of information, he left without a word, letting the locker room door slam into the wall. As he rushed through the halls and stairwells, Katsuki scrolled on his phone, finding the address he needed to get answers. By the time he left the building, he’d yanked his suit back up, ignoring the looks of civilians as he blasted into the air.
It only took three minutes to get to Deku’s Department of Diagnostics, ignoring the startled looks of the receptionist when he walked through the polished lobby. Thankfully, the place only had one floor, making it easy to hunt down his target. He pushed through two doors before finding the man of the hour. Though there were four people in the large room, his eyes instantly flickered to the man standing in front of a giant whiteboard. With messy green curls and eyes that took over half his face, the shorter man stared at Katsuki as if he was a dream. If the red under his freckled cheeks didn’t give him away, the way he dropped his marker and parted his lips without words clicked the final puzzle piece into place.
“Unless you wrote these—” Katsuki lifted the crumpled notes, shaking them while staring Izuku down. “Get the hell out.”
He didn’t look away from the nervous man when hearing the chairs squeak against the floor, rushed feet scampering from the meeting room. The whisper of the trio that left cut off when the door shut behind them, leaving him alone with Izuku. Finally composing himself, Izuku rushed to grab the marker from the floor, needing two attempts to cap it before turning toward the whiteboard.
“Hello, Dynamight.” To the nerd’s credit, he tried to hide the anxious edge of his voice, smothering it in a cheerful ramble. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I mean, I know you just finished up with a villain battle, and most of the time we don’t see heroes until they’ve debriefed and written their reports—”
“You want to talk about reports?” Katsuki took his time walking around the conference table, feeling his heartbeat raise the closer he got to the tense analyst. Though he’d never been one to care about people’s looks, he could admit the guy was cute. He looked like he belonged in some kindergarten or serving warm pastries at a cafe. Why had such a soft-looking guy without any quirks decided he wanted to dedicate himself to supporting heroes? Once he stepped beside Izuku, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind, focusing on one thing. “I’ve been finding them every week. A little frozen birdie said it matches your handwriting.”
“Ah, really?” Even as he tried to play innocent, the flush gave him away. Katsuki admired how the darker color almost hid the freckles on Izuku’s face.
Then, he reached out, snagging the round cheek and tugging the analyst to face him. “You gonna tell me why you’re leaving me love notes in my locker?”
“They’re not love letters!” Finally, Izuku’s attention snapped up to Katsuki, his flame of defiance charming with his beet-red face. “I just noticed you were struggling to get past the fifteenth spot—”
“I wasn’t struggling—”
“And so I figured if I analyzed your current move set and equipment, I could write it all down and give it to you. But since I know you might not take it from a stranger, I used the keycard Best Jeanist gave me for visits and left them in your locker. And it worked! You know it did. So then I had to keep going, since you were still shouting about being number one—I was just trying to help. That’s…” Izuku’s lip slid between his teeth, shrugging. “That’s sort of my thing.”
“Well, ain’t you a bleeding heart.” Slowly, Katsuki reached out, snagging the strings on the analyst’s hoodie and tugging him closer. “A sneaky little hero, pretending to be a nobody.”
“A h-hero? No, I wouldn’t call myself that.” Modest in a world that rewarded arrogance, Izuku shook his head and glanced away. “What I’m doing is nothing compared to you and the others.”
“It kept a lot of people safe, and helped lock up the assholes who tried to hurt them.” He watched Izuku try to hide his wobbly smile at the blunt compliment, sure the nerd’s ears would fall off from how red they’d become. Unsure why the flustered appearance made his heart squeeze, Katsuki let go of the strings and turned away. With a new plan in mind, he dropped the papers onto the table. Scanning the area, he snagged a marker and scribbled down his number, not waiting for the ink to dry before slapping it against Izuku’s chest. Reflexes kicked in for the befuddled man, who grabbed the papers before they fell.
“What did…”
“Stop creeping around the agency and just text me,” Katsuki said, Izuku’s eyes widening while his hands crinkled the paper in their grip.
“Text you about… about my analysis?” Izuku asked.
“About whatever, Nerd.” Wanting to really short-circuit the man’s intricate thought process, Katsuki leaned forward and smirked. “And be ready at five tonight. Since you know so much about me, I’m gonna pick apart your big brain over dinner.”
Looking too stunned to speak, Izuku only nodded, Katsuki unsure if he’d taken a breath since getting the hero’s number. Huffing to hide how pleased he was with the results, Katsuki spun on his heel and walked out of the room. When he opened the door, he caught sight of the three nerds scampering down the hall, obviously eavesdropping. Normally he hated his privacy being invaded, but today he let it slide. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he left the building with a grin.
Maybe he could find a new routine with Izuku.