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The rain had started just after sunset.
By the time Izuku reached the agency...
The streets were shining beneath the streetlights.
His patrol had officially ended an hour ago.
Yet… He hadn't gone home.
Instead… He walked into the reception area of another agency.
The receptionist looked up.
"...Good evening, Midoriya."
"...Evening."
He smiled politely.
"...Is Bakugo still here?"
She nodded.
"...Training Hall Three."
A small laugh escaped her.
"...He's been in there since six."
Izuku wasn't surprised.
The sound reached him before he opened the door.
Explosions.
Heavy impacts.
The unmistakable rhythm of someone refusing to stop.
He stepped inside.
Bakugo was alone.
Sweat soaked through his training shirt.
His breathing was heavy.
Yet he launched himself at another training dummy.
One more explosion.
Another.
Then another.
Only when the smoke cleared...
Did he notice Izuku standing by the door.
"...You're late."
Izuku laughed.
"...Hello to you too."
Bakugo grabbed a towel.
"...What d'you want?"
"...Nothing."
"...Liar."
"I'm serious."
Izuku shrugged.
"...I was passing."
Bakugo snorted.
"...This agency's twenty minutes in the opposite direction."
Izuku smiled sheepishly.
"...Okay."
"...Maybe I wasn't."
Silence.
Bakugo walked over to the bench.
Sat down heavily.
"...Well?"
Izuku leaned against the wall.
"...You missed dinner."
Bakugo looked up.
"...The hell?"
"...Kirishima said you've basically been living in here all week."
"...So?"
"...So..."
Izuku held up a paper bag.
"...I brought food."
Bakugo stared at it.
"...Seriously?"
"...Seriously."
He took the bag.
Opened it.
Still warm.
His favourite katsudon from the little restaurant they'd both discovered after graduating.
"...You remembered."
Izuku looked genuinely confused.
"...Of course I remembered."
Bakugo looked away.
"...Tch."
For several minutes...
The only sound in the room was quiet eating.
Eventually...
Bakugo spoke.
"...You didn't have to come."
Izuku smiled.
"...I know."
Bakugo looked at him.
"...Then why'd you?"
Izuku thought about the answer.
Then...
He gave the simplest one he had.
"...Because..."
"...If our positions were reversed..."
"...I know you'd come."
Silence.
Bakugo looked down at the food in his hands.
"...Don't act like you know me that well."
Izuku laughed softly.
"...Kacchan."
"...We've known each other since we were four."
For the first time that evening...
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of
Bakugo's mouth.
Barely noticeable.
Gone almost immediately.
"...Yeah."
He looked back at the training hall.
"...Guess that's true."
They sat together in comfortable silence.
The rain continued outside.
Training Hall Three felt strangely peaceful.
As they left the agency together...
Neither of them mentioned why Izuku had really come.
Neither of them needed to.
Some promises aren't made out loud.
Some are built...
Over years.
Over mistakes.
Over forgiveness.
Over choosing, time and time again...
To keep showing up.
Because sometimes...
The strongest kind of trust...
Is never having to wonder whether someone will come.
You simply… Know.
After that evening...
It happened again.
Not often.
Just… Enough.
Some weeks...
Bakugo would train until long after everyone else had gone home.
Sometimes… Izuku would appear.
Carrying two takeaway coffees.
Or dinner. Or simply… Himself.
Other weeks… Izuku was the one working too late.
Buried beneath reports.
Rescue analysis.
Patrol debriefs.
The light in his office would still be on long after midnight.
There would be a knock at the door.
Without waiting for an answer...
Bakugo would walk in.
"...You're still here."
Izuku looked up from his paperwork.
"...Apparently."
Bakugo dropped a convenience store
sandwich onto the desk.
"...Eat."
"...You didn't have to-"
"...Shut up."
Izuku smiled.
"...Thanks."
That became their routine.
Neither of them acknowledged it.
Neither pretended it wasn't happening.
They simply… Showed up.
One Friday evening...
The two agencies were running a joint rescue exercise.
Everything went smoothly.
Until the final building search.
A section of ceiling gave way unexpectedly.
The collapse wasn't large.
Just enough to separate the teams.
Dust filled the air.
Communication became patchy.
Izuku found himself trapped on the opposite side of the debris.
Nothing serious.
Just...
Cut off.
"...Midoriya!"
Someone shouted from the other side.
"...I'm okay!"
He called back.
"It'll take a minute!"
The rescue teams immediately began organising equipment.
Assessing the safest route through.
Everyone stayed calm.
Professional.
Methodical.
Then… An explosion echoed through the corridor.
"...OI!"
Bakugo's voice.
Loud enough to shake dust from the ceiling.
"...DON'T YOU DARE START DIGGING!"
A rescue worker turned.
"We're trying to reach him safely."
"I KNOW!"
Another explosion.
Smaller this time.
Controlled.
Creating space.
Not destroying it.
Izuku couldn't help smiling.
"...Kacchan?"
"...YOU ALIVE?"
"...I'm fine!"
"...LIAR!"
"I'm genuinely fine!"
Several rescue workers exchanged amused glances.
One of them muttered quietly,
"...They've definitely done this before."
Five minutes later...
A safe opening had been cleared.
Izuku climbed through.
Dust covered his costume.
A shallow cut marked one cheek.
Otherwise...
He was completely unharmed.
Bakugo folded his arms.
"...You look like crap."
Izuku laughed.
"...Hello to you too."
"...You idiot."
"...I'm okay."
"...I can see that now."
For a brief moment...
Neither of them moved.
Neither seemed entirely sure what to say next.
Finally...
Bakugo clicked his tongue.
"...Next time..."
"...Answer quicker."
Izuku blinked.
"...You were worried."
"...Don't be stupid."
"...Kacchan."
Bakugo looked away.
"...The comms cut out."
A pause.
"...Couldn't hear you."
That was all.
No dramatic confession.
No emotional speech.
Just...
Three simple facts.
The radio had gone silent.
He hadn't known.
He'd come anyway.
As they walked back toward the command post...
One of the younger sidekicks quietly nudged another.
"...They're close."
The older hero smiled.
"...Closer than they probably realise."
Later that evening...
They found themselves walking toward the station together.
The city was settling into the quiet rhythm of night.
"...Can I ask you something?"
Izuku said.
Bakugo grunted.
"...What?"
"...If the roles had been reversed
today..."
Bakugo stopped him immediately.
"...I would've come."
Izuku smiled.
"...I know."
Bakugo frowned.
"...Then why ask?"
Izuku looked ahead.
"...Because..."
"...I wanted to hear you say it."
Bakugo was silent for several steps.
Then...
Very quietly...
Quietly enough that anyone else would've missed it...
"...Always."
Neither of them spoke again for the rest of the walk.
They didn't need to.
Some promises didn't need explaining.
They'd already spent a lifetime proving them.
Now...
They were simply learning how to say
them aloud.
After that...
The promise settled quietly between them.
It wasn't spoken again.
It didn't need to be.
Because every now and then...
Life gave them another opportunity to prove it.
One afternoon...
Izuku's agency was responding to a large apartment fire.
Bakugo's agency had been dispatched to the opposite side of the city.
Completely unrelated.
The fire was brought under control quickly.
Everyone made it out alive.
A few injuries.
Nothing life-threatening.
The news still spread fast.
Hero agencies had a way of hearing things long before they reached television.
Bakugo was halfway through writing his report.
A sidekick hurried into the office.
"...Ground Zero?"
"What?"
"...There was a fire."
Bakugo barely looked up.
"So?"
"...Deku's agency was first on scene."
The pen stopped moving.
"...Anyone hurt?"
"We're still waiting on the report."
Bakugo was already standing.
"...Oi!"
His assistant looked up.
"...I'm heading out."
"...You've still got paperwork."
"...It'll still be there."
Twenty-five minutes later...
Bakugo arrived at the medical centre attached to Izuku's agency.
He didn't run.
He didn't shout.
He simply walked through the entrance with the sort of determined pace that made everyone instinctively step aside.
The receptionist smiled politely.
"...Can I help—"
"...Midoriya."
"...Recovery Room Two."
Bakugo nodded once.
"...Thanks."
He knocked once.
Then opened the door.
Izuku looked up from the hospital bed.
His arm was wrapped in fresh bandages.
A small burn marked one side of his neck.
Nothing serious.
"...Kacchan?"
Bakugo looked him up and down.
Slowly. Checking. Bandages. Breathing. Eyes. Hands.
"...You alright?"
Izuku smiled.
"...Yeah."
A pause.
"...Good."
Bakugo turned toward the door.
"...Right."
"...You're leaving already?"
Bakugo looked over one shoulder.
"...Saw you."
"...You're alive."
"...Job done."
Izuku couldn't help laughing.
"...You came all the way here..."
"...Just to check?"
Bakugo frowned.
"...Obviously."
"...Why's that weird?"
Izuku stared at him.
Because to Bakugo...
It genuinely wasn't strange.
It wasn't extraordinary.
It wasn't some grand act of affection.
Someone important to him had been hurt.
So...
He came.
That was simply the end of the thought process.
"...Thanks."
Bakugo shrugged.
"...Don't mention it."
As he reached the doorway… He stopped. Without turning around...
"...You would've done the same."
Izuku smiled.
"...Yeah."
"...I would've."
That evening...
The two of them met halfway between their agencies.
A tiny ramen shop they'd discovered years earlier.
No reservations.
No photographers.
Just steaming bowls of ramen and tired heroes.
The owner smiled as they walked in.
"...The usual?"
Bakugo nodded.
"...Yeah."
While they waited...
Izuku looked across the table.
"...Can I tell you something?"
"...Go on."
"...When I was lying in that hospital bed..."
"...I knew you'd come."
Bakugo looked up.
For once...
He didn't answer immediately.
"...How?"
Izuku smiled.
"...Because you always do."
Silence.
Then… Very quietly...
Bakugo laughed.
A real laugh.
Short.
Rough around the edges.
But genuine.
"...Guess you know me pretty well."
Izuku grinned.
"...Since we were four."
Their food arrived.
The conversation drifted elsewhere.
Work.
Training.
Kirishima's latest ridiculous story.
Life.
But neither of them forgot those few words.
"I knew you'd come."
Because somewhere between childhood… Competition… Regret… Forgiveness… And growing into heroes...
They had become each other's first thought.
Not because either of them expected it.
Because neither of them knew any other way.
Sometimes...
Trust isn't built by making promises.
Sometimes… It's built by quietly keeping them...
Long before anyone ever asks you to.
It became...
Unspoken.
Neither of them kept count anymore.
Who had shown up last.
Who had brought dinner.
Who had waited outside an agency.
Who had checked the hospital first.
It didn't matter.
Because eventually...
It always balanced itself.
One autumn evening...
A violent storm swept across the city.
Wind rattled windows.
Rain hammered against rooftops.
Every agency was called out.
Hours later...
The emergency finally began to settle.
Heroes gradually returned.
Exhausted.
Soaked.
Ready to go home.
Izuku sat alone in his office.
His costume hung over the back of a chair to dry.
He stared blankly at the report on his desk.
He wasn't writing.
He was simply… Still.
A knock came at the door.
Before he could answer… It opened.
"...Knew you'd still be here."
Bakugo.
Still in costume.
Hair damp from the rain.
Holding two takeaway coffees.
Izuku smiled tiredly.
"...You look exhausted."
"...So do you."
Bakugo placed one of the coffees on
the desk.
"...Drink."
Izuku accepted it.
The cup was warm against his cold hands.
"...Thanks."
Neither of them spoke for a while.
The office was quiet.
The storm had finally begun to fade.
"...Bad day?"
Bakugo asked.
Izuku nodded once.
"...Yeah."
"...Lost anyone?"
"...No."
"...Good."
Another silence.
"...Still feels heavy though."
Izuku admitted.
"...We got everyone out."
"...Everyone survived."
"...But..."
He rubbed at his eyes.
"...Some days..."
"...You still wonder if you could've done more."
Bakugo looked at him for a long
moment.
Then...
"...Sit."
"...I am sitting."
"...Properly."
Izuku blinked.
Then laughed despite himself.
He leaned back in the chair.
Actually letting himself rest.
"...Better."
Bakugo nodded.
"...Thought so."
After another few minutes...
Izuku spoke again.
"...Can I ask you something?"
"...What?"
"...How do you always know?"
Bakugo frowned.
"...Know what?"
"...When I need someone."
Bakugo looked out at the rain-streaked window.
"...Because..."
He shrugged.
"...I've known you longer than anyone."
"...I know what you look like..."
"...When you're pretending you're fine."
The words landed with surprising gentleness.
There was no teasing.
No irritation.
Just… Fact.
Izuku smiled sadly.
"...Am I really that obvious?"
"...To everyone?"
"...No."
Bakugo looked him straight in the eye.
"...Just me."
For the first time that evening...
Izuku felt the weight on his shoulders ease.
Not disappear. Just… Become something he didn't have to carry alone.
When they finally left the agency...
The rain had stopped.
The streets glistened beneath the city lights.
Neither hurried toward the station.
Halfway there...
A young sidekick from Izuku's agency spotted them.
"...Sir!"
He jogged over.
"...Everything okay?"
Izuku smiled.
"...Yeah."
"...Just heading home."
The sidekick nodded.
Then glanced curiously at Bakugo.
"...You came here pretty quickly."
Bakugo answered before Izuku could.
"...Course I did."
"...He would've done the same."
The sidekick smiled.
"...Must be nice..."
"...Knowing someone will always come."
Bakugo looked at Izuku.
Izuku looked back.
Neither of them answered.
They didn't need to.
As they continued walking...
Their shoulders brushed together for a moment.
Neither moved away.
Not because they were making a statement.
Because it simply felt… Right.
Some people believed trust was built through promises.
Through contracts.
Through words.
Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo had built theirs differently.
One late-night visit.
One shared meal.
One hospital room.
One cup of coffee.
One quiet walk home.
Again. And again. And again.
Until eventually… Neither of them wondered who would arrive first when life became difficult.
They already knew.
Whoever needed the other less...
Would always be the one who came.
Months passed.
The routine never became official.
There were no plans written into calendars.
No recurring messages.
No standing Thursday dinners.
It simply… Happened.
If Bakugo had a difficult day...
Somehow… Izuku knew.
If Izuku stayed too late at work...
Bakugo's phone would buzz with a message.
‘Still at the office?’
The reply was almost always the same.
‘...Yeah.’
Ten minutes later...
There would be a knock at the door.
Neither of them ever questioned it.
Neither of them thanked the other every single time.
After a while...
Showing up had become as natural as breathing.
One cool autumn evening...
Izuku finally finished the last report on his desk.
He stretched.
Checked the time.
Nearly nine.
"...Oops."
He switched off the office lights.
Locked the door.
Walked outside.
"...You're late."
Izuku smiled before he even looked up.
Bakugo was leaning against the wall beside the entrance.
Hands buried in his pockets.
Looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"...I've literally just finished work."
"...Yeah."
Bakugo pushed himself away from the wall.
"...You're late."
Izuku laughed.
"...How long have you been waiting?"
A shrug.
"...Twenty minutes."
"...Kacchan..."
"...Tch."
He looked away.
"...You'd do the same."
Izuku couldn't argue.
Because… He would.
They started walking. No destination. No discussion.
Just… Walking.
The city hummed quietly around them.
Streetlights reflected across the pavement.
People hurried past.
Neither of them was in any particular rush.
After several minutes… Izuku spoke.
"...You know..."
Bakugo glanced sideways.
"...What?"
"...When we were kids..."
Izuku smiled faintly.
"...I thought being the greatest hero..."
"...Meant saving people."
Bakugo snorted.
"...Still does."
"...Yeah."
Izuku nodded.
"...It does."
He looked up at the evening sky.
"...But..."
"...I think there's another part of it."
Bakugo waited.
"...Making sure..."
Izuku said quietly.
"...The people who spend all day saving everyone else..."
He smiled.
"...Have someone who saves them too."
Silence.
Bakugo didn't answer straight away.
He simply kept walking.
Thinking.
Remembering.
Childhood.
U.A.
Everything they'd broken.
Everything they'd rebuilt.
Every late-night visit.
Every shared meal.
Every hospital room.
Every coffee.
Every time one of them had quietly appeared...
Without being asked.
Finally...
"...Yeah."
Just one word.
Quiet.
Certain.
Enough.
Eventually… They reached the familiar crossroads.
One road led toward Izuku's apartment.
The other toward Bakugo's.
They stopped.
Not because they had anything left to say.
Because this was where they always split up.
"...Tomorrow?"
Izuku asked.
Bakugo nodded once.
"...Yeah."
For a moment...
Neither of them moved.
Then...
Bakugo stepped forward.
Lightly bumped his shoulder against
Izuku's.
Not hard.
Not challenging.
Just...
Familiar.
Izuku smiled.
And bumped him back.
For a second...
They both laughed.
Not loudly.
Just enough.
Bakugo turned toward home.
After a few steps...
He raised one hand.
A casual wave.
Without looking back.
He didn't need to.
He already knew.
Izuku was smiling.
Some friendships survive childhood.
Some survive rivalry.
Some survive regret.
Some survive forgiveness.
The rarest ones...
Survive long enough...
To become the place you instinctively look for...
At the end of every difficult day.
Because after everything they'd been through...
Katsuki Bakugo was no longer just Izuku's oldest friend.
And Izuku Midoriya was no longer just Bakugo's oldest rival.
Somewhere between all the years they'd spent finding each other...
Again… And again… And again...
They had quietly become home.
Some evenings...
The city was loud.
Sirens echoed through the streets.
News helicopters circled overhead.
Heroes rushed from one emergency to the next.
Those nights...
Nobody noticed two familiar figures crossing paths.
Other evenings… The city was quiet.
Shopkeepers pulled down shutters.
Restaurants filled with the last customers of the night.
Streetlights reflected softly across the pavement.
Those nights… Life slowed down.
It was one of those evenings.
Nothing remarkable had happened.
No major incidents.
No villains.
No headlines.
Just… Another Thursday.
Izuku stepped out of his agency.
The cool evening air greeted him.
He adjusted the strap of his bag.
Looked up.
And smiled.
"...You're late."
Bakugo leaned against the brick wall outside the entrance.
Hands in his pockets.
Looking exactly as unimpressed as
ever.
Izuku laughed.
"...Five minutes."
"...Still late."
Bakugo pushed himself away from the wall.
Without another word...
The two of them started walking.
No destination.
No plan.
Just… Together. Halfway home...
A young sidekick from another agency recognised them.
"...Ground Zero?"
"...Deku?"
The two heroes stopped.
The sidekick jogged over.
"...Sorry to bother you."
Izuku smiled.
"...You're not."
The young hero looked between them.
"...Can I ask something?"
Bakugo shrugged.
"...Go on."
"...How do you always know where the
other one is?"
Silence.
Then...
Izuku looked at Bakugo.
Bakugo looked back.
They both laughed.
"...Honestly?"
Izuku said.
"...I don't."
Bakugo nodded.
"...Neither do I."
The sidekick frowned.
"...Then..."
"...How?"
Bakugo scratched the back of his neck.
Searching for words.
Never his favourite thing.
Finally… He shrugged.
"...You just..."
"...Notice."
Izuku smiled.
"...When you've known someone long enough..."
"...You notice when something feels..."
He searched for the right word.
"...Off."
"...You know when they're carrying too
much."
"...You know when they're pretending they're okay."
Bakugo folded his arms.
"...And if something feels off..."
"...You go."
The sidekick looked at them quietly.
"...I hope..."
He smiled sheepishly.
"...I hope I have someone like that someday."
Bakugo answered before Izuku could.
"...You will."
The young hero thanked them.
Then continued on his way.
For a while… Neither of them spoke.
The city settled gently around them.
Cars drifted past.
People laughed outside restaurants.
Life carried on.
Eventually… Izuku broke the silence.
"...You know..."
Bakugo glanced sideways.
"...What?"
"...I don't think either of us ever actually asked."
"...Asked what?"
Izuku stopped walking.
He turned to face him.
A smile spread slowly across his face.
Not the smile of the Number One Hero.
Not the smile he wore for cameras.
Just… Izuku.
"...Will you walk home with me?"
Bakugo stared at him.
For a long moment...
He said absolutely nothing.
Then...
The smallest smile tugged at the corner
of his mouth.
Barely there. But real.
"...Idiot."
He turned and started walking again.
"...Been doing that for years."
Izuku laughed.
A laugh that carried years of memories with it.
Childhood.
Competition.
Failure.
Forgiveness.
Trust.
Everything they'd survived together.
He caught up.
Fell naturally into step beside him.
As though there had never been any other place to walk.
They disappeared into the evening.
Two heroes.
Two old friends.
Two people who had spent a lifetime learning that strength wasn't measured only by the battles you fought...
But by the person who quietly appeared beside you after they were over.
Heroes spend their lives running toward strangers on the worst day of their lives.
But when the sirens faded...
The paperwork was finished...
And the city finally grew quiet...
They discovered the greatest act of heroism wasn't always saving someone's life.
Sometimes...
It was simply making sure...
The person who had spent all day saving everyone else...
Never had to walk home alone.