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Hi, thanks for clicking on this work!

Oh man. Idk what the fandom is doing to me; I never wrote any forewords before! But it seems MHA pushes my ‘winging it’ into new heights orz

Anyway. Unlike the other work, I don’t want to establish any headcanons or so here; in fact, the lack of a clear plan on how I wanna do this piece is why I felt the need to write down a few pointers since I can see how this can develop in different ways and on different levels.

Originally I just wanted to write how bkdktd started dating. I wanted to include some scenes with them stumbling through the dynamic as they gave this relationship-thing a shot while still teenagers post war. I also wanted to add some class A shenanigans for the heck of it. It was supposed to be fluff and wholesome and romantic and cute (in fact, I tossed around ideas with my besty and. Well. She’s my besty for a reason).

Since I’m me, angst crept it. Realism crept in. A whooole lot of baggage crept in, too, and drama to boot. I’m hopeless like that. And since more keeps coming up, I am, frankly, unsure on how to tag the story - not because I’m bad at tagging, but because I don’t know what else might be down the line and I don’t want to end up blindsiding readers for potential triggers.

Here an example: 
They are 16 to 17 years old teenagers and in love. So I’ll definitely tag this piece as Underage; not because I plan to write a full on sexscene with them, but because hormones are a thing and they

are

attracted to each other, I frankly don’t know if some petting is completely off the table. Or either of them dealing with results of sexual desire on their own. Planning stories out entirely is something I don’t do; I like to get swept up by the story and adapt as things unfold. Tbh, I’m still pondering over the whole kissing aspect I def. wanna include, especially with who with whom and the order!

Another thing that’s gonna happen is how their environment experiences and judges their interactions. The boys aren’t public about their relationship with and to each other, kind of stumbling through it, and classmates witness some interactions and get confused. Talks of cheating and infidelity happen, and shovel talks as well. That’s actually what prompts them to come clean to the class about what they are doing, and as it often is, people have opinions that clash.

… I hope you can see what I’m trying to bring across. Since they lived through a war, I will also add plenty of situations where they struggle with trauma, PTSD, panic attacks, and other stuff. I guess that becomes pretty clear from the first chap and the tone of my writing. Hence the tags, and especially the rating, will adapt as the story progresses. It’s a work of fiction, hence I don’t hold myself back from writing about the uglier and darker bits as well. That’s who I am and what I enjoy writing. It’s what I believe gives my works the Taua-ish flavor, what allows my works to become relatable and enjoyable to readers. I also want and will add some fluff, but this is still gonna be quite the ride, fellas!

Just. I want you guys to be safe rather than sorry, and the opportunity to turn away before you get too attached. If any of this and/or the tags didn’t scare you away, I hope you enjoy this work!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Izuku had completely forgotten until the moment he opened the plain cardboard box. Before the final clash with Shigaraki and All For One, U.A. had them pack up a few things for safe-keeping. Izuku had added a few trinkets, most of his journals, and a few of his All-Might collectables to his box, aware they might get destroyed anyway or that he’d… never end up seeing them again because he didn’t make it. That was why he put in those two envelopes, too. Now, after months of recovery and a fragile sense of normality returning to their lives, their second year of school was supposed to start in but a week's time. The U.A.-board decided they’d collectively repeat the second year, giving them ample time to rest after the brutal fights and learn how to handle their mutual trauma. Izuku was grateful for the break, but also desperate to find some new routine, desperate to navigate around his peers and what remained of the Embers, desperate to reclaim and relive the days when everything was easier and more carefree. But that also meant he had to face his feelings, too. His fingers trembled a little when he picked up the envelopes, one in each hand. His own writing glared back at him - blue on off-white, reading ‘To Kacchan’ and ‘To Todoroki-kun’ respectively. Even after everything that happened, he still couldn’t decide, his heart still torn. Feeling a strange sense of numbness, Izuku got up and walked to his desk, falling into his chair with a heavy creak. He rested his lower arms on the smooth wood, staring unseeing at the love letters he wrote what felt like a lifetime ago, when everything was uncertain and dangerous. When he knew his life was actively threatened, along with so many others, and when he knew he’d do anything and everything he could to pull through. When, faced with the very real possibility of his own death, he sought some sort of closure and wanted to go in with as little regrets as possible. When he sat down in the dead of night and wrote those love letters, he’d hoped  and prayed he’d finally be able to decide who to confess to by putting his feelings onto paper, but only ended up hurt and more torn than ever.Because he loved both of them, Kacchan and Todoroki-kun. The affection for Kacchan had been there for as long as he could remember. He loved Kacchan when they were toddlers, he loved and mourned over losing Kacchan when they grew older, he loved and hated him when they clashed, he loved and respected him when Kacchan finally recognized him as an equal, and he loved and cherished him when Kacchan never gave up on him and pushed and dragged him back to his senses, over and over and over again. He loved and despaired over him when Kacchan laid on the ground after the deadly blow, he loved and thanked every God for when Kacchan came back, and he loved and ached for him when Kacchan cried in that hospital room when he confessed he lost his quirk. He loved him for his unyielding conviction and confidence, for his strength and passion and incredible skills. The love for Kacchan burned and shined brightly in his heart, strong and all-consuming and intense, ever-present and as natural to him as breathing. For so long it felt like nothing could ever compare to that feeling. And then came U.A. and he met Todoroki-kun. The growing love for him was clearer to Izuku than what he felt for Kacchan. He loved Todoroki-kun for how he was among the first to acknowledge him as a future hero, seeing him as a rival he wanted to fight and win against. He loved him when Todoroki-kun struggled with his own identity and problems, and he loved him when Todoroki-kun finally grew strong enough to break away from his shackles and embraced his potential and strength. He loved him when Todoroki-kun came to his rescue and helped against Stain, and he loved him for aiding as they ventured out desperate to save Kacchan. He loved him for every time Todoroki-kun asked for his opinion and valued his thoughts, he loved him for his steady and calm nature, and he loved him for how impossibly gentle he was. He loved him for when Todoroki-kun was clueless, he loved him when he was enjoying himself, he loved him so, so much for taking him as he was, for getting angry on the behalf of others, for how willing he was to lay himself bare and open despite all the hurt he experienced, for the warmth of his heart though he was trapped in ice for most of his life. The love for Todoroki-kun was comforting and clear, easy to see and understand, steady and grounding like the warmth of the sun beaming on his face and the soft grass under his feet. They were opposites. They were incomparable. They were impossible for Izuku to decide between. When he screwed up his courage and tried to tell Kacchan about his feelings, thoughts of Todoroki-kun filled his head. When he set out to confess to Todoroki-kun, his heart twinged for turning away from Kacchan. His love for both of them was real, as real as the scars on his hands and the steady beating of his heart. And he was so, so greedy and insatiable, wanting them both with so much fierceness, and terrified at the prospect of losing one of them when he was with the other. He thought writing down his thoughts would bring some clearance, but it only served to make Izuku more miserable. Because how could he love two people so similarly and devastatingly differently at the same time? How dare his being insist on splitting his affection and adoration between them? Kacchan and Todoroki-kun deserved someone who loved them with their whole heart, not that sick, twisted thing Izuku was trying to do. Even if one of them went as far as returning his feelings, they’d instantly drop him once they realized how he sought after the other. It would ruin their relationship, taint and shatter their friendship to the point they’d probably want to burn down every bridge between them. They would hate Izuku… and that was something that he couldn’t bear. It would break him beyond repair. And after what happened during the war - after Shigaraki explicitly sought out and tortured, eventually even killed Kacchan simply because he thought he was Izuku’s most important person- He couldn’t. Izuku knew he couldn’t allow himself to live out his feelings. Villains would still come after him, quirk or no quirk, and also come after those he loved. They would do unspeakable things to his significant other, even if they were strong and unbelievably skilled. They would hurt them for the sole reason of what Izuku felt toward them. His love for Kacchan and Todoroki-kun would be their downfall, a burden that would crush them underneath it. If it ever got revealed, they would be doomed. Izuku blinked as his sight grew blurry. Listlessly he dropped his chin, noticing the clear droplets on the desk beneath his face. Silent, heavy tears that rolled down his cheeks, quiet pain from what his heart already knew but his mind only now realized was what he needed to do: His love would have to remain a secret. He’d have to try to extinguish his feelings, trample on his heart until it would stop hurting. What he desired and sought was not worth the risk he’d put on their lives. Izuku would rather have them at arm's length than completely out of his life. … The letters would have to go, too. Hands clammy and shaking, he brought the envelopes together, his fingers pinching the top. It would be best if Izuku tore them to tiny specks and then tossed them into the trash-burner, erasing them from existence as best he could. Nobody could ever know he wrote them. Nobody could ever know how much he loved Kacchan and Todoroki-kun. But his fingers remained still. No matter how much Izuku thought about tearing the paper, his muscles refused to work. “Please,” he quietly sobbed into the room, sight blurry once again. “Please let me break them,” he begged his traitorous body, however all it did was cry harder, his heart aching more and more with every beat of it.  “Please,” Izuku whispered as his forehead came to rest on the wood of the desk, tears and snot pooling under him as his shoulders twitched with every hiccup and sob tearing out of his throat in the solitude of his dorm-room.  --- In the end, Izuku was forced to keep them. That afternoon he’d spiraled so much he woke up on the floor, head dizzy and body curled into a cramping ball, his breath barely coming. His body was fighting him almost as badly as when he first attempted to use One For All, refusing to follow his command to the point he felt physical pain. Whatever he did, Izuku couldn’t bring himself to rid of those traitorous papers. Maybe it was his psyche trying to protect him - to keep him from completely breaking apart. Those feelings he held for them were catalysts pushing him forward, motivators for him to keep trying, inspiration for his altruism. Love was empowering in its own right. And those letters were proof that it was affection that drove his actions and not something darker, something that put him on par with All For One. Back when Izuku first got in touch with the other owners and started developing more quirks, Kacchan once said One For All was basically like All For One in its nature. His selfless tendencies and desire to help others were the things that made the difference, and after everything that went down, Izuku had no doubt the love in his heart played a huge factor as well. Though, he also couldn’t deny the distinctively selfish streak tainting his affection, the dark urge to stake his claim on Kacchan and Todoroki-kun, regardless of the consequences or the risk of being shot down and hated for it. However he couldn’t allow himself to act. And, maybe, with the letters always within his grasp, he might succeed at holding himself back. They became steady companions, safely tucked into his backpack or between the pages of his journal. Izuku made sure to keep them close, making sure nobody ever had a chance of learning of their existence, and tried to resume his life on school-grounds. Classes felt strange at the beginning. They all shared the common feeling of being out-of-place, going through the motions despite the surreality of it all. It was soothing and comforting for Izuku - knowing he wasn’t the only one who thought everything was alien and hollow. Uraraka sometimes spaced out, her gaze unfocused and unblinking while her arm curled around her stomach, palm pressing into the scar on the right side. Hagakure would randomly flicker in, her quirk acting up without meaning or resembling any pattern. Iida would, when the others got slightly rowdy or loud, not spring up from his chair and instruct them to quiet down. Shinso, still so new to their dynamics and the proximity to them all, observed everyone with keen eyes as he tried to find his place. Todoroki-kun had days when he remained completely quiet while, just a little bit ago, he spoke up in class at least once and engaged in conversations with everyone. Sometimes Kacchan’s right side twitched uncontrollably, the sleeve of his jacket almost fluttering from the intensity, and a layer of sweat would break out across the back of his neck. … Sometimes, Izuku himself flinched when the breeze came in through the window, still unused to the amount of exposed skin on the right side of his head, the tuffs of green hardly enough to act as a buffer. Yet they tried to breathe life into their everyday life again. Ashido and Kirishima poked and commented on everything with enthusiasm. Kaminari ‘accidentally’ released his voltage and went goofy on a suspiciously regular basis. Mineta would try to compliment the girls with lewd comments, especially when they were spacing out, and once his distraction worked Tsu-chan gave him a lashing with her tongue. When they were together like that, Izuku was reminded of their past - fresh at U.A. and eager to learn and grow, bright-eyed and full of energy. But they were not the same as then. Screams would cut through the quiet of the dorms in the middle of the night. There was hardly a day where they didn’t run into one of them in the common area, already awake and with dark shadows under their eyes from lack of sleep. Sometimes they had to encourage each other to nibble on a snack for breakfast, or coax each other to clean off in the bath. Every other night, Izuku leaped out of bed with a shout, scrambled to his balcony, and scaled the wall until he dropped down in front of Kacchan’s window, carefully pushing it open and pulling aside the blinds to check whether he was still in bed, his chest heaving and heart beating. None of them was the same, but they all made an effort to make the best of it anyway. Since living in the dorm became optional, some from class decided to spend more time at home. Izuku understood the sentiment; they wanted to be close to those they fought for, those they sought to protect with their all. He made a point of visiting his mom more often, too, though he always returned to U.A. in the end. The thought of sleeping far away from his friends, unable to check on and help them, made him sick to his stomach. They were a tight-knit group which went through hell and came back in one piece, finding kinship in a way they couldn’t with their families and peers outside. And on some days, normality returned within their grasp. The day a series of mistakes turned Izuku’s life upside down was, however, everything but normal.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The bell rang for Lunch, some of them instantly getting out of their seats and packing their things. They were scheduled to head out in the afternoon to help with repairs and clearing debris in the city, and Izuku wanted to take the opportunity and pick up a few groceries on the way back. However he’d been in a rush that morning - a nightmare had torn him out of sleep during the night, but he somehow managed to doze off in the wee hours of the morning anyway and ended up oversleeping - so he grabbed his block and set to rewrite the list he forgot in his room. He quietly murmured to himself as he held his chin, trying to remember what he jotted down the previous day. “What are you working on, Deku?” Uraraka asked as she approached his table. “You seem very focused.”He looked up, a sheepish smile on his lips. “Ah, just a grocery list,” he replied, “I got out late today and forgot it back at the dorm.” Uraraka furrowed her eyebrows at his answer. “Can’t you just go and pick it up?” Izuku shook his head. “We’ll be heading out right after Lunch. I don’t want to chance any delay for everyone-” “Tch.” At the noise, Izuku turned his head - he’d tilted it to look at Uraraka as they spoke - and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Kacchan stand before his desk. His right arm was close to his body, held up by a dark brace, and there was a furrow between his brows as he looked down with slightly narrowed eyes. “It’ll take, what, two minutes for you to grab it? Like that’s gonna hold us up.” He shifted his weight and rested his good hand on his hip, as if daring for a comeback. “It’s not that important,” Izuku insisted, voice gentle as he spoke. “I can just rewrite it. No big deal.” “It was important enough for you to write it down,” Kacchan returned - and Izuku subconsciously reached for his journal where the love letters were, itching to hold it close to his chest, “So it is important enough to-” “Bakugo,” suddenly a voice called - and all three of them turned toward the front desk where Aizawa-sensei stood. “Can I have a word with you?” For a moment Kacchan’s face was back to Izuku, his lips pressing together while his hand clenched into a fist. “It’s worth to make the trip. Don’t be stupid,” he said in a soft, even tone before he turned around and walked to the front of the class. When he strode away, Izuku released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Bakugo’s gotten more mellow,” Uraraka commented as they watched him go. “And he’s right. Making the trip before we head to the bus won’t be a problem at all.” Izuku just hummed, his eyes going soft as he averted them. Kacchan had always been caring - but him expressing it so openly and softly was new. He was tough and loud and direct, but lately he embraced his role as a protector more keenly, made sure he had an eye on everyone in class and beyond. Emphasized what they did mattered, even if it was something as mundane as a trip to retrieve a sloppy grocery list. It was so beautiful to see him keep growing… Izuku almost choked up. A small, unassuming smile graced his lips as he started packing up. Kacchan and Uraraka were right; he could jog over to the dorms and make it back to the others before they boarded the bus easy-Suddenly a beeping noise cut through the quiet murmurs and rustle of the room - and Izuku’s fingers slacked as the sound resonated in his skull like a siren.  ---- It had been a bad night. Katsuki knew that from the moment he walked to the common area, unable to spot a distinctive mop of green hair. Usually he barely had a moment to himself ever since the new year started; at least Izuku had stopped breaking into his room like a creep once he kept the blinds on his window open. … Unfortunately that meant he didn’t always notice when Izuku woke up in the middle of the night and checked on him. However Katsuki needed the rest quite badly; the aches in his chest and especially his arms were eating away at him, so he needed whatever bits of sleep he could get. Regardless, Izuku would materialize in his close proximity as soon as he emerged from his room, hovering in his perimeter to the point it was bothersome, however Katsuki still allowed it. Heck, he himself grew nervous whenever he couldn’t keep an eye on the nerd, especially since their talk at the hospital room months before. Izuku was reckless and self-sacrificial to an alarming degree, and there was no doubt the idiot would dive headfirst into danger even with only the Embers left in his body. Someone had to keep him on a short leash, one way or another. And if stalking him did the trick, Katsuki was willing to sacrifice his independence and personal space for the greater good of keeping Izuku safe. When he heard Izuku agonize and neglect his own needs for trivial concerns that were only inside his own head, he heaved a sigh and got up from his chair. As expected, Izuku was wearing that weird smile on his lips and his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke to Pink Cheeks, implying, once again, how little things mattered when it came to himself. Most of the others simply let Izuku be, as if afraid they’d hurt his feelings by calling him out on his bullshit. Not that Katsuki enjoyed doing it. Guilt clawed at his soul every time he uttered the words, paranoia eating away at him from the inside. He’d hurt Izuku so often, so much already… and every time he opened his mouth, more of the venom could spurt out. It wasn’t like him to be so doubting, to be so insecure, however Izuku was more important than his feelings and opinion of himself.  Therefore he knew he had to speak up, so he sucked it up and clicked his tongue. “It’ll take, what, two minutes for you to grab it? Like that’s gonna hold us up,” he insisted as he stood in front of Izuku’s desk. It was a solid evaluation - the nerd was still in impeccable shape, even without using his quirk. And if someone did decide to give him shit for showing up a little late at the bus, Katsuki would make damn sure they knew what he thought about that.  If anyone deserved the right to be cut some slack, it was the boy with the large green eyes and the fresh scar running down his cheek like eternal tearstains. Of course, Izuku had a very different opinion and replied, “It’s not that important. I can just rewrite it. No big deal.” His voice had gone quiet and his shoulders slumped a bit, making him look and sound so damn small Katsuki wanted to grab him by the scruff of his neck and pull him upright. It was so infuriating he felt a familiar twitch in his left palm, itching to explode. His right was still unresponsive and numb, save for the times it cramped up in sheer pain. “It was important enough for you to write it down,” he said instead - and watched as Izuku tensed ever so slightly, his hand inching toward a stack of books and his journal. Katsuki observed the movement through the corner of his eye, however deemed it not worth his attention for the time being. After all, he still had to get Izuku’s head straight again. “So it is important enough to-” he began, but found himself cut off by a call. “Bakugo. Can I have a word with you?” Aizawa-sensei asked from the front of the classroom. When Katsuki turned to look at him he seemed as listless as usual, though on second glance there was a certain tension in his shoulders. Whatever he wanted to talk about was sure to be annoying. Clenching his hand into a fist, making sure no accidental explosion went off, he finally said, “It’s worth to make the trip. Don’t be stupid.” He tried to keep his face schooled, or at the very least from sporting his usual sneer or condescending frown. He wanted Izuku to reconsider, not double down on his opinion. It was a small thing, but Katsuki still hoped he succeeded. With that in mind he turned on his heels and walked the few steps to the front desk. Aizawa-sensei was keeping his eye on him the entire time, gaze sharp and scrutinizing. Up close, Katsuki noticed his eyebrow was furrowed - a clear sign for his irritation.He’d barely reached the desk when Aizawa-sensei asked, “How are you feeling?” Katsuki kept his face neutral as he replied, “I’m at class. Isn’t that good enough of an answer?” “Don’t get cocky. It’s irrational to assume your struggles go unnoticed by the faculty.” Aizawa-sensei narrowed his eye a little. “So come clear, kid.” Katsuki pressed his lips together for a moment. “I can handle it. I’ve been through worse,” he said, truthfully. The random cramps and waves of pain were short; he could soldier through it just well, and he’d be damned if he allowed that to stop him. Besides - the whole class would freak if he suddenly missed school, those idiots immediately assuming the worst. He stared back at Aizawa-sensei… and dread filled his chest when he heard the heavy sigh and watched Aizawa-sensei shake his head. “You’re banned from the outing this afternoon,” he finally said. “What?!” Katsuki returned, his feet taking him a step closer to the desk as he bared his teeth. “I want you to talk to Recovery Girl about the next steps of your healing this afternoon,” Aizawa-sensei added with a neutral yet slightly tensed voice. “Before you don’t hand me a plan of recovery, you’re excluded from all practical classes and outside missions.” Katsuki could feel his heart pumping harder. “That’s bullshit,” he snapped, “I can do light exercise just fine-” “This is not a negotiation, Bakugo,” Aizawa-sensei cut in. “If you don’t comply, we will notify your parents and discuss further measures with them.” “Don’t get my folks involved-” Katsuki snarled, his hand lifted and ready to slam down on the desk with an explosion. Before he did however an alarm went off on his wrist, startling him. He stared down at the watch displaying his heart rate, the beat so out of the normal range the number flashed in red. A pointless visual, really. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, frantic but strong in his anger. “Throwing a tantrum won’t make me change my mind, problem child,” Aizawa-sensei commented listlessly. A little softer he added, “Think rationally. What would-” Suddenly Aizawa-sensei stopped with a gasp, and before Katsuki could even look up and see what was wrong scraping noises came from behind him and a sharp pain spread through his lower arm. Gritting his teeth he whipped his head around, but he couldn’t react as he was forcibly pushed away from the desk and crowded toward the window. A body forced itself between Katsuki and Aizawa-sensei, just about as big as Katsuki’s, as if shielding him off, though all Katsuki could see was a mop of green hair as fingers dug deep into the skin of his arm and slightly turned it upwards. “Calm down, Midoriya,” Aizawa-sensei said, but Izuku just hunched slightly and made another few steps, pushing Katsuki back with his shoulder against his chest. When Aizawa-sensei slowly lifted his hand, inching toward his scarf, Katsuki saw the tension growing in Izuku’s shoulders and the hairs in the back of his neck straightening.“Don’t,” Katsuki warned, easily seeing how Izuku was about ready to pounce. When he was sure Aizawa-sensei got the message, he swallowed hard and tried to calm his racing heart. “Hey. Deku. Izuku,” he called with a gentle voice, trying to snap him out of it. It didn’t take a genius to piece it together: The moment Katsuki’s alarm went off, hinting that at least something was happening to his heart, Izuku was no doubt taken back to that day during the war. Katsuki hadn’t been coherent then, but he heard plenty of what took place - how Izuku spiraled so hard he lost control over his quirk. Katsuki had feared his wristwatch might, once the alarm went off, trigger him. There was a reason he usually took it off when he was getting worked up, despite the chastasing he received from the adults afterward. However this time his temper flared too fast for him to react… and now it was too late. Izuku was still coiled tight as a spring when his fingers clenched even harder, and Katsuki had to suppress a pained hiss. The damn nerd was too strong for his own good; it felt like his bones were about to get crushed. At the very least, he’d end up with a sharp, hand-sized bruise on his lower arm. And when Katsuki tried to pull free, to bring his wrist to his mouth and try to pull off the damn watch, Izuku clenched down even harder. Aizawa-sensei could no doubt see it - but with his experience, he surely concluded approaching might set Izuku off to the point he attacked. When Katsuki turned his head a little he spotted several of their classmates as well, out of their seats and hovering close-by, no doubt also sensing the dangerous tension in the air. “Deku. You have to calm down,” Pink Cheeks called from a few feet away. A smart move; she’d succeeded snapping Izuku out of it in the past already. Katsuki recalled the video-feed from their mock battles against the other class, when Izuku first used his Blackwhip. The screen had been wobbly and spotty, but one of the cameras further away recorded how she had launched herself at him, wrapping her body around his’ in an attempt to soothe him. Maybe physical contact would do the trick this time as well. Only… Katsuki couldn’t move his right arm. He was practicing regularly and while he could move it a little, once inside the supportive brace it was immobilized, giving his joints and nerves the rest they needed to heal. There was no way he’d be able to lift it, let alone wrap it around Izuku. And, given the rush of adrenaline in his body, his heart had no intention to slow down either. Katsuki bit his bottom lip in frustration. “Hey,” he called, tone sharper, “Let go of me, Nerd. You're in the damn classroom, not on the battlefield.” He tried to tug on his trapped arm again, but Izuku still held him fast, the alarm steadily beeping away. Damn it. The longer the situation lasted, the higher the risk of the tension snapping and Izuku going completely berserk. And from the way Izuku kept pushing on his arm ramped up the pain as well, so much so Katsuki felt sweat break out across his skin-Wait. His sweat! Twisting in the hold and biting his lip against the pain, Katsuki angled his wrist until his palm was up. He dapped his fingers into the crook before he bent his hand further, just enough for the sweat to drip from his fingertips onto the band of the watch. A few droplets would be enough - now he only needed a spark on the spot. Looking up he scanned the room and - there he was. Katsuki’s red eyes locked with mismatched ones, and once he was sure he had Icyhot’s attention he motioned at his wrist with his chin. He’d need to somehow get them to shift for a clean shot, so Katsuki waited for him to approach a few cautious steps, moving slowly and just outside of Izuku’s narrow view. When Half-and-Half nodded, a tiny flame flickering on the tip of his finger as he pointed at them, Katsuki finally acted. Tensing his muscles, he jumped slightly and threw his entire weight against Izuku’s upper body while kicking into the back of the knee he could reach. Izuku was so stiff he took a moment to regain his balance, the arm where he held Katsuki whipping to the side to counterbalance the movement - and that was when Icyhot shot the flame forward, setting the nitroglycerin on fire. The blow was so strong Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a cry of pain, the wristband doing nothing to buffer the hit. He wasn’t bleeding, but his fingers shook from the impact and he probably would bruise heavily in a couple of minutes. But the plan worked out, the watch slipping off his wrist and landing on the floor, the alarm quieting once it didn’t register his heartbeat anymore.  “Kacchan! No!” Izuku screamed as he whirled around, eyes wide and empty and tremors overtaking his entire body as he clutched onto Katsuki with all his might. He was spiraling even harder than before, unable to comprehend the sudden silence was related to the watch missing and, instead, assuming Katsuki’s heart must have given out. Instantly acting, Katsuki used his freed, trembling hand to grab a fistful of Izuku’s fluffy hair and yanked, so hard he tore some of it out, and pressed his head close against his chest. “I’m fine,” he said, pressing Izuku even closer, making sure his ear was right above his heart. “You can hear it, can’t you?” It took a few seconds, but eventually Izuku relaxed - and sobbed, the sound scratchy and painful as he wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s torso, hugging him so hard it hurt his injured arm. Then Izuku’s legs suddenly gave out, bringing them both down hard against the floor. Katsuki had a hard time bracing Izuku’s dense weight on a good day; injured and weakened, there was no chance he’d be able to keep them up, let alone given the stressful situation. Still he held onto Izuku, his fingers gentle as he carded them through the green bangs, his voice soft as he whispered quiet affirmations and encouraged Izuku to calm down. The others were upon them in a second, though it was Aizawa-sensei who knelt beside them on the ground. “You okay?” he asked while looking at Katsuki. “My wrist is singed, but I’ll be fine,” Katsuki replied - and even spared a grateful nod at Halfie, still hovering close-by. Aizawa-sensei eyed his wrist, however his gaze dropped lower still. “Get those bruises looked at, too, while you talk to Recovery Girl. Wouldn’t surprise me if you sustained a light fracture.” Eyes narrowing, Katsuki pulled his lips back in a snarl. “Izuku didn’t hurt me,” he insisted, sharply. “I’d know if he broke my fucking arm.” Suddenly Izuku went eerily quiet, his body quaking with shivers. He pulled back, and Katsuki almost recoiled at how white his face had turned, as if all blood had left his body. The shift in position had his hand slip away from the top of Izuku’s head and instead to his shoulder, his arm hanging limply- And Katsuki watched in slow horror as Izuku’s teary gaze dropped to the side, spotting the dark purple bruises left by his hand only minutes ago. The green eyes widened even further, pale lips parted as huffs of breath passed them fast, much too fast to be normal- “Shit,” Aizawa-sensei cursed, immediately laying one arm around Izuku and laying the flat of his other hand against his chest. “Midoriya, can you hear me? You have to breathe, kid, or you’re gonna pass out.” Izuku remained unresponsive, didn’t even blink, and with a click of his tongue Aizawa-sensei moved his other hand across his eyes to cover them. “Come on, kid, breathe with me. Just like this,” he said and breathed, making noise as he sucked in air and released it with a long sigh, over and over, but Izuku kept shaking, his hands coming up to claw at his own chest, blunt nails scratching across Aizawa’s hand so hard he left red trails. And Katsuki could only sit there and watch, unable to move or figure out a way to help. They’d had a class covering the topic before - how they were supposed to act when a victim experienced an anxiety attack, ways to calm them down, dangers in regards of potential quirk use. Katsuki had sat through it out of necessity, only listening enough to know the basics since he saw himself as unfitting for that specific role given his abrasive demeanor and bad temper. But he still figured he could do it for a stranger in a pinch. However now, seeing Izuku of all people in that situation, everything he knew evaporated from his mind. He was terrified to make it worse if he as much as spoke up, driving Izuku even further into his panic. Hell, his own breathing turned quiet and labored as he tugged his arm close, cradling it against his chest and sliding it into the empty sleeve of his school uniform, trying to hide the wound even while Aizawa-sensei kept Izuku’s eyes covered already. Suddenly Halfie dropped down beside them as well, his right hand held out. “Sensei, use this,” he said, voice slightly shaking - Katsuki had never heard it do that before either - as chunks of ice formed on top of his palm. “I read… The vagus nerve…?” “Good thinking,” Aizawa-sensei responded with a nod. “Can you hold it against his neck?” Todoroki nodded and did as instructed, though he hesitated before he touched the skin. “Here,” Pink Cheeks said in a gentle voice - and Katsuki looked up at her, just like Icyhot, noticing the simple, cotton handkerchief she held out. “Thank you.” Quickly reaching for it, Todoroki unfolded it and packed the ice in its middle before folding it back up. He then held the cloth against Izuku’s neck, all of them flinching when Izuku finally gasped and jerked at the sudden touch. “Breathe with me, Midoriya,” Aizawa-sensei repeated and finally, finally, Izuku followed his example. He was still breathing quickly, wheezing between gasps of air, but at least he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore. Katsuki watched his chest expand when Aizawa-sensei pulled his hand back, saw it sink in when he pressed down with his palm again, physically guiding Izuku through the steps while he slowly calmed. After another few seconds, Aizawa-sensei removed the hand he kept over Izuku’s eyes and instead reached for the cold compress Icyhot was still holding. “Think you can walk?” Aizawa-sensei asked.Izuku nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks while he kept his eyes closed. He was still breathing hard. “Alright. Let’s get up then.” Gently Aizawa-sensei stood, pulling Izuku along. “Yaoyorozu,” he called, and instantly Ponytail stood at attention, “Can you get the room sorted out before you head to lunch?” “Consider it done, Sensei!” she replied and though she nodded confidentally, her face was pinched in worry as her gaze dropped to Izuku. “Good. See you later.” With that Aizawa-sensei started for the door, but then Izuku dug his feet in and looked back, his eyes watery when they met Katsuki’s. “Ka-” he wheezed, cutting himself off with a wet cough. “I’ll be fine,” Katsuki replied, the answer shooting out of him as he quickly got back on his feet. “You go on ahead. You heard what Sensei said.” Izuku looked torn and unsure, but eventually his shoulders dropped and he nodded, somewhat resigned. He didn’t put up a fight as Aizawa-sensei led him out of the room and away, and only when their shadows disappeared from the hallway windows did Katsuki release the breath he was holding. “How’s your wrist?” someone asked, so close-by Katsuki flinched in surprise. He whipped his head around, his eyes narrowing into a glare when mismatched eyes stared back at him unblinking. “Nothing about it,” Katsuki snapped as he stuck his hand into the pocket of his pants, as if hiding it from view. Icyhot simply hummed. “The explosion was stronger than expected. Do you need me to carry your bag for you?” he asked, voice unnervingly neutral and yet earnest. Instead of replying, Katsuki stomped over to the closest desk and pushed it back in place. Izuku must have shoved them out of the way as he rushed ahead. In fact, his own desk was entirely toppled over, his papers and books strewed about all the way to Katsuki’s own desk as well as Ears’ one. Pink Cheeks and Ponytail were already setting things back in order, and soon enough Halfie joined in as well. Since he didn’t want anyone to touch his stuff, Katsuki took care of his own seat and crouched down to separate his papers from Izuku’s. He frowned at one of the books, the fall having several pages flipped and therefore wrinkled up. Ugh, he hated when his pages were anything but smooth. He once threw his chair at Tape Face when he noticed him fucking dogearing his book out of sheer frustration. If Deku’s was still fine, he’d force them to trade books in retaliation. Stupid, impulsive Nerd-When Katsuki put his book away, he spotted an envelope on the floor. He picked and flipped it over, reading Izuku’s scribbles on the front. ‘To Kacchan’ he read. Weird. Why was Izuku carrying around an envelope addressed to him? And for how long, exactly? They hadn’t seen each other at breakfast, but he could have easily handed it over between classes. For a moment, Katsuki considered dumping what he assumed was a letter back into Izuku’s bag, however before he could his curiosity got the better of him. What if Deku was too chicken to hand it over? He might never get to read it if he gave it back, simply because Izuku had the tendency to overthink and would never muster up the courage to deliver it. And it was addressed to himself. That was enough of a reason to keep and read it once he got the time. With that in mind, Katsuki dropped the letter onto his chair and resumed his work. “Ah, shoot!” he heard Pink Cheeks complain. “I think some of Deku’s stuff flew out the window…” “I’ll go get it,” came Frog’s voice. Katsuki hadn’t even noticed she was still around until that very moment - and rolled his eyes when she instantly hopped out the window. She was efficient, at least, though Ponytail was instantly by the window and calling out to her about how using her quirk outside of exercises was unbecoming. It didn’t seem to stop her though, he noticed with a small smirk. Finally done he got back up, stuffing his things into his schoolbag along with the envelope. “Here,” Halfie stated as he dropped the watch with the broken band onto Katsuki’s desk. Katsuki grabbed it wordlessly and stuffed it into his bag as well. He had some extras in his dorm room, though he assumed Recovery Grandma would insist on giving him another one before then. Without as much as a goodbye, he slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder and headed to the Nurse Office.  ---- It had been an intense experience. Shoto still couldn’t keep his fingertips from shaking from the lingering adrenaline, reminding him of all the times after the battles he fought. He was just happy they managed to avoid a clash this time. The moment Midoriya had leaped out of his seat he got up as well, discarding his bag and rushing into the same direction. He stopped short when Midoriya grabbed Bakugo and retreated to the nearest wall, something wild in his eyes, as if he was bracing for an attack. Even Aizawa-sensei’s words didn't snap him out of it - in fact, it felt like the situation could escalate any moment. Maybe he could try and freeze both of them, but Midoriya would easily manage to break out of the ice. There wasn’t enough space to make the block dense enough. And if they did make a move, Midoriya would surely fight back with everything he had. The way he tensed when Aiwaza-sensei made to reach for his scarf was enough of a tell. As the seconds ticked on, all of them stuck in a tense pause, he noticed how Bakugo moved - turned his wrist around with gritted teeth, his fingers moving, and after a while he looked up and met Shoto’s eyes. He then nodded toward his wrist, face determined and confident in that typical way of his. In a moment, Shoto understood what he was plotting. The way his wrist was turned he likely dropped some of his sweat onto the band of his watch, and he looked for Shoto specifically to set off the nitroglycerin. They’d done something similar on Eye Island during their first year, though the explosion then was waster and more uncontrolled than what Bakugo usually did. … It was risky. What if there was too much sweat and the explosion too large? It could blow off Bakugo’s entire hand in the worst case. Or if Shoto didn’t manage a clear shot, he might end up seriously burning them instead. However it was their best bet. And knowing Bakugo, he’d try to eliminate as many risks as possible. He wasn’t self-destructive and wouldn’t readily provoke a situation that would put his hands on the line. Shoto crept closer, moving outside of Midoriya’s perimeter. He had to get close enough to safely aim his flames, which was difficult enough as it was. Taking clear shots was near impossible with his quirk, but it was their best bet. Once he was close enough he called a flame to the tip of his finger, signaling he was ready. And thankfully Bakugo picked up on it and, in a flurry of precise movements, got Midoriya to stagger to the side, their joined arms stretching away from their bodies. Holding his breath Shoto shot off a fireball, hitting the watch and making it explode. He winced when Bakugo grimaced at the impact, but at long last the alarm quieted. 
“Kacchan! No!”
The way Midoriya screamed punched the air out of Shoto’s lungs and made his ears ring. The cry was filled with anguish, as if it was physically torn out of Midoriya. It was the worst noise Shoto had ever heard him make; no fight, no catastrophe, no situation compared to it.But then Bakugo grabbed him, forced his head against his chest and whispered – and Midoriya wailed, wet sobs coming from him, still so awfully pained but also strangely relieved.And then both of them collapsed right where they stood. Shoto had made a step forward, reaching out for them, but ultimately hesitated. The situation felt intimate – too intimate for him to intrude.Besides. Not like he would ever manage to console Midoriya the way Bakugo could, anyway.The others eventually approached, but only Aizawa-sensei truly stepped into their bubble. Midoriya was still crying and holding onto Bakugo, his entire frame shaking with the strength of his hiccups, and Shoto honestly doubted it would be a good idea to separate them any time soon. Midoriya had the tendency to tear up; it was probably best to have him cry himself out so he could truly calm down again.He was so focused on Midoriya he didn’t catch what Bakugo and Aizawa-sensei said until Bakugo snapped, “Izuku didn’t hurt me. I’d know if he broke my fucking arm!”Shoto immediately saw how Midoriya went stiff, his noises silencing in the blink of an eye. He watched as Midoriya sat back on his knees and straightened, and Shoto flinched at what he saw on his profile – how white his cheek had gone, how wide his teary eye was. And then Midoriya turned his head slightly... and began hyperventilating.“Shit,” Aizawa-sensei cursed as he reached for him. “Midoriya, can you hear me? You have to breathe, kid, or you’re gonna pass out.” Was Midoriya having a panic attack? It looked like it to Shoto, though he couldn’t recall anything ever having hinted onto Midoriya struggling with anxiety. He whipped his head toward Bakugo – given their shared history and his general character, surely he’d know what to do, probably just waited for someone to acknowledge him to throw out commands-However what Shoto found instead was a scared, overwhelmed boy. Bakugo looked so young then, truly like the teenager he actually was, at a complete loss at what to do and forced to helplessly watch as Midoriya spiraled further and further.Fuck. Shoto had to think, and think fast. He mentally pulled up the list of measures they went through during class, quickly going through his options. Aizawa-sensei was already touching and speaking to him, even went as far as covering his eyes, but that didn’t seem to work. In fact, Midoriya was clutching at his chest and scratching the hand pressed against it, however not even the hint of a noise came over his lips.Slightly panicking himself, Shoto looked around for his classmates. Maybe Yaoyorozu had a plan; she was excellent at quick thinking and vastly knowledgeable. She often brought up additional information about classes when they spoke, as well as reports-Wait. Report.Shoto suddenly remembered a medical report he read, about nerves that could be triggered in people who were experiencing panic attacks to force their bodies to relax – using ice packs.He rushed to the trio on the floor, his knees aching when he fell on top of them, but Shoto ignored the pain. Instead he held up his right palm as he said, “Sensei, use this.” He instantly created a handful of ice.  “I read… The vagus nerve…?”“Good thinking,” Aizawa-sensei replied. “Could you hold it against his neck?”Shoto bit his lips and nodded, already moving to quickly push the ice against Midoriya’s neck. But before he touched skin, he stopped – a direct contact might burn his skin. He bore the result of careless chilling on his face, and he didn’t want to risk leaving a permanent reminder for Midoriya in form of a scar.“Here,” Uraraka suddenly said – and when he looked up, Shoto noticed the handkerchief she was holding.“Thank you,” he replied, quickly grabbing it and wrapping it around the ice. The chill was weaker, but if what he read held true, it would still be enough to snap Midoriya out of his stressful spiral.When he pressed the makeshift ice-pack into his sweaty nape, Midoriya jerked so hard it made him flinch, too. However he still held the pack against his neck, a steady pressure that hopefully served to be grounding as well. And by some miracle, Midoriya finally started to calm down.It wasn’t long after that Aizawa-sensei took the ice-pack from Shoto while he still guided Midoriya through breathing exercises. Shoto paid close attention, memorizing the actions; while he hoped there would be no need in the future, he’d still wanted to learn how to properly act should Midoriya need his help again.Eventually they stood, and Shoto raised as well. Part of him wanted to stick to them, simply to make sure Midoriya was okay. He’d grown quite restless himself; he could feel his fingertips shaking slightly from the stress, or maybe the adrenaline flooding his body was getting to his head. However he also knew it might cross a line if he openly requested to join. Even as a close friend, there would be no need to stay with Midoriya once he was in the care of a teacher.So Shoto pressed his lips together and watched, wordlessly, as Aizawa-sensei walked out of the classroom with Midoriya in tow after he told Yaoyorozu to get everything back into order.However, before they even reached the door they stopped again – and Midoriya looked back over his shoulder with large, pleading eyes.For a moment, Shoto’s heart beat a little faster. If Midoriya asked for support, he wouldn’t hesitate to offer it. Seeing someone he considered so strong and radiant in such a state had shaken him – but he thought no less of Midoriya for it. If anything, it only ignited a fierce need in him, a need to protect and support and assist in any way Midoriya might need-“Ka-“ Midoriya wheezed, but a violent cough cut him off. Some more unshed tears gathered in the corners of his eyes from it, and while Shoto’s heart twinged at the name Midoriya undoubtedly tried to say, it also swelled with admiration.Even weakened and hurting, Midoriya still looked out for others first and foremost.“I’ll be fine,” Bakugo returned, voice unexpectedly steady as he rose. Whatever stun he’d been in must have subsided. “You go on ahead. You heard what Sensei said.” Finally Midoriya’s shoulders slumped and he followed Aizawa-sensei without further resistance.Once they were out of sight, Shoto calmed his nerves and turned toward Bakugo. “How’s your wrist?” he asked, genuinely worried. The explosion had been powerful enough to make Bakugo grimace and though he prompted it, it had been Shoto’s fire that caused the wound.Bakugo shot a glare at him after a jerk that went through his whole body. “Nothing about it,” he answered, the edge on his voice whenever he was irritated even more prominent than usual. He clearly didn’t want to talk. However, Shoto had seen the face he made when the explosion hit, had seen the coloration on his wrist. “The explosion was stronger than expected. Do you need me to carry your bag for you?” he asked, though he considered the chances of Bakugo allowing him to offer any additional assistance to be extremely low. Therefore he wasn’t surprised when Bokugo stoically went to the closest desk and rightened it, the legs scraping noisily across the floor. Shoto decided to leave him alone. The wound on his wrist wasn’t bleeding and he seemed to be able to flex his fingers just fine. Once he was at the infirmary, Recovery Girl would surely give him appropriate treatment. Pushing Bakugo given those circumstances would only serve to make him aggressive, deeming the momentary peace utterly pointless. … Though, Shoto wondered how peaceful it actually was. He was still worried for Midoriya and the way the others moved around and their faces pinched, they did, too. Deku was a constant well of inspiration, someone they all felt connected to. A strong leader who drove them to do better, be better. It was easy to forget how, by the end of the day, Midoriya was just a human like themselves - someone who could crack, who could break, who could unravel at the seams. Someone who, too, needed help and salvation. Shoto itched to be someone who could protect Midoriya in his time of need. Someone Midoriya could depend and lean on. However, Shoto wasn’t sure if his assistance was wanted, let alone welcomed. Especially considering how he ached to play a more centered role in Midoriya’s life, to become more than friends. But Shoto had no idea how to go about it; he wasn’t the best when it came to social interactions, let alone live out his feelings and desires. How could he, when his life had been about suppression and restraint and isolation until he enrolled to U.A.? It was still incredibly difficult to unwind, even with the classmates he grew close to. His infatuation with Midoriya, the affection he felt for him, was on a whole other level. And, Shoto acknowledged with a glance over his shoulder, he wasn’t so blind as to overlook whatever it was that Bakugo and Midoriya had going on. When ‘Kacchan’ was an option, he knew who Midoriya would choose, over and over without second thought or hesitation. It stung, and he was definitely jealous and envious, but if that was what Midoriya wanted- needed to find happiness, he could get over himself and his selfish desires. Dealing with Bakugo’s moods and making sure he was okay was but a step in the plan of keeping Midoriya happy. And since Shoto knew him from months of careful observation, he picked up the watch with the broken band from the floor and walked up to Bakugo, returning it with a simple ‘here’ when he packed up. Just a minute later, Bakugo was out of the classroom without another word. “I hope they’re okay,” Yaoyorozu murmured, drawing Shoto’s attention. Her frown had deepened when he looked at her, her eyes downcast and a hand curled on her chest. “Midoriya is with Sensei,” Shoto told her after drawing in a calming breath, “And Bakugo is headed to Recovery Girl. I’m sure they’ll figure out if something is amiss and help them accordingly.” Yaoyorozu hummed, still not looking up. “Todoroki has a point,” Uraraka commented. She was packing up Midoriya’s books and journals, though there didn’t seem to be an order to it as she worked. Shoto assumed she did it on purpose; Midoriya could be very private about his personal notes and thinking someone might have gone through them would surely stress him out. Besides, he certainly had a distinct way on how he liked to organize his papers only he fully understood, which made it impossible for any of them to get it right anyway. It was then Asui reemerged from the window, a few papers stuck under one arm. “I just,” Yaoyorozu sighed as she closed her eyes, “It feels like I failed them. I’m sure Iida would have stood up and taken action if he was here. I’m the vice president, and I did nothing to help my classmates.” “I doubt there was anything you could do, ribbit,” came Asui’s voice, leveled and rational as always. She lifted one hand and rested a finger against her chin as she explained, “Midoriya is incredibly strong and Bakugo was too close for us to properly attack without risking collateral damage. Even Todoroki’s ice wouldn’t have been able to trap them in that position.” Her large, keen eyes went to Shoto, and he nodded instantly. “If any of us got involved, it might have made things even worse. At least that’s what I think.” Uraraka nodded as she stepped closer. “I agree. Even Iida wouldn’t have been able to change anything. He could run as fast as he can, but Deku’s grip is practically unbreakable!” She punched the air once. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Deku’s only going to beat himself up even more if we’re depressed when he comes back.” Shoto swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for words. “We’re lucky things turned out okay in the end. I’m sure Midoriya is going to talk to us later, and we can always consult with Aizawa-sensei on how to handle the situation.” He sighed, his breath leaving him with a puff. “We went through a lot and grew, but we’re still… healing. In more ways than one.” The tremor finally left his fingers, the last of the stress bleeding out of him. “All we can do is be there for each other when we struggle. Then we’ll be alright.” At last, the trouble slightly faded from Yaoyorozu’s face. “You’re right. I’ll do my best to help, too.” She clenched her hands into fists and a little smile laid over her lips. “Thank you for sticking around and getting the room back in order, everyone. Let’s head to Lunch before our afternoon lessons begin.” They all nodded quietly. “I’ll take Midoriya’s bag,” Shoto announced, grabbing one of the yellow straps after Asui packed up the papers she retrieved from outside. “I’ll drop it by the dorms if he doesn’t return to class before we take the bus to the city.” “Thank you, Todoroki,” Yaoyorozu replied, “I’ll try and get a hold of Aizawa-sensei and tell him you have Midoriya’s belongings. I’ll also notify you if I learn he won’t come.” Shoto merely gave a nod and slung the strap over his shoulder. As expected, the bag was heavy, but nothing he couldn’t handle. It was a small gesture, but he still hoped it took at least one thing off the list of Midoriya’s worries.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

His throat was so dry and tender Izuku could barely speak and his feet felt like lead when he dragged himself after Aizawa-sensei. They crossed a few corridors before they entered one of the doors, leading to one of the few nap rooms scattered around U.A. like the one he used to meet up with All Might in.

Aizawa-sensei told him to sit on one of the couches, and Izuku followed the command instantly, squirming a little on the seat as his entire body sunk together. He fiddled with a damp cloth, the ice in the core melted down considerably. The chill on his fingertips helped keep him in the moment; he’d switch fingers when he grew too numb, the tingle on his skin giving him something to focus on.

“Here. Drink this,” Aizawa-sensei said. Looking up, Izuku saw him holding out a bottle of water. He accepted it wordlessly after he dropped the moist handkerchief onto the coffee table, his fingers clumsy as he unscrewed the cap, and took a few sips. The lukewarm liquid soothed his throat to the point he released a little sigh.

For a while, they simply sat there in silence. Izuku went through about half of the bottle while Aizawa-sensei took the couch on the other side of the coffee table, lower arms resting on his knees as he leaned slightly forward. “Have you struggled with anxiety before?” he eventually asked, voice soft but still to the point.

“I’ve-” Izuku cleared his throat, wincing at the lingering pain. “I’ve been anxious, but never took medication or anything. I don’t know what happened there…”

“Have you spoken to therapists?” Aizawa asked.

Izuku gave a curt nod. “Back at the hospital and during recovery,” he replied. “They said the stress I felt is normal and expected after what happened. But I am doing

alright.

I don’t need to take up resources-”

“None of that,” Aizawa-sensei cut in, gentle but firm. It made Izuku clap his mouth shut with a click. “Your health matters just like everybody else’s. You displayed classic symptoms of a severe PTSD-episode and talking the issue down will only make it worse. This is something you can’t ignore and hope it goes away on its own.”

Izuku hung his head, hands clenching around the half-empty bottle so hard it crinkled.

“I’ll get you a list with contacts for counsellors. Can I trust you to make an appointment to see one of them, or do I have to notify your mother?”

“I’ll do it,” Izuku whispered begrudgingly.

“I want you to understand where I’m coming from, kid,” Aizawa-sensei said, and something in his tone prompted Izuku to tilt his head back and look him in the eye. “You went through things nobody should have. Especially not a teenager such as yourself. Because we, as adults and a society, failed you.” His shoulders slumped a little while his hands, clasped between his legs, clenched harder together. “Helping you with your struggles is the least we can do. Not only for your own safety, but those around you as well. If you get into an episode on the field, innocent people could be severely harmed and you become a liability for others.”

Gritting his teeth, Izuku stiffened. “I would

never-”

Aizawa-sensei raised a hand, signaling him to stay quiet. “That’s what the book says and also the most rational point. However, I also want you to get better on a purely selfish and personal level.”

Izuku deflated, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“It’s going to be tough. Maybe it won’t ever fully go away. But you deserve to be able to spend time with your peers and experience the peace you fought so hard to maintain.” Aizawa-sensei cocked his head a little, the veins on his hands fading as he relaxed minutely. “You managed to save people with a smile on your face. And I want you to be comfortable enough for it to reach your eyes, too. So if you need anything, I want you to seek me out. Understand, problem child?” He gave a huff, but it sounded oddly fond. “Would be a shame to undo all the work now that you actually shape up to be a hero.”

The compliment brought tears to Izuku’s eyes. For a moment he recalled his first day at U.A., what Aizawa-sensei told him in regards to his Quirk and how he fought. How he had firmly stated how useless of a hero he was if he broke himself mid-fight, becoming a liability to his comrades. To hear Aizawa-sensei now say he

did

have what it took to be a proper hero… it was soothing his nerves and just as encouraging.

Unfortunately, the moment passed, and Aiwaza-sensei tensed up again. “What do you remember from before?” he asked. “Of course you’re not obligated to disclose it, however it would help me properly assess the situation.”

For a moment Izuku pressed his lips together, contemplating, but eventually he answered, “I’m not sure. Everything is kind of… hazy.” He paused, trying to remember - but once his chest tightened up he shook his head. “There was… that

awful

noise. And then I could only think of protecting Kacchan.” Shaking his head still, Izuku tried to suck in a deep breath. “But once it got silent… it was so,

so

much worse. I thought-”

Suddenly his mouth clamped shut, so hard his teeth clacked. It happened completely subconsciously - like Izuku’s very body refused to utter the words, actively kept him from speaking them out loud. He very nearly bit his tongue, too.

“My first clearer memory is of you talking to me. I think that’s when I started to come to again,” he said, the tension in his chest finally letting up.

Aizawa-sensei silently studied him, his eye narrowing ever so slightly. “Is that everything you remember, Midoriya?” he asked, and the tone of his voice sent chills down Izuku’s spine.

“W-what do you mean?” he whispered, dread coiling in his stomach and something pulling on the very edge of his mind. Something frightening that he subconsciously wanted to avoid as much as possible.

“Change of plans,” Aizawa-sensei said, “I’ll talk to All Might and have him accompany class this afternoon while you and I are going to work through that list asap.”

Something about it sounded wrong, so much so that alarm bells went off in Izuku’s head. “Sensei,” he said with a slightly shaky voice, “What… did I do…?”

He looked up, green eyes large and pleading, though he was terrified of the truth.

However, Izuku had to face it. Something inside him said he

had to.

And Aizawa-sensei seemed to see that, too, for he drew in a deep breath and held it.

“I was there,” he eventually said… and Izuku felt his jaw go slack. “You put yourself between Bakugo and myself, and when I reached for my scarf you threatened to lash out.”

Though his eyes stung from how dry they got, Izuku couldn’t blink. “I… You… What?!” he stuttered, unable to comprehend the situation.

“Further, you grabbed Bakugo hard enough to bruise. When you saw the wound you caused, it triggered a panic attack.”

Shaking his head, Izuku dropped the bottle from his hands, spilling water across the floor. He ranked his hands through his hair, tugging, tugging

hard

as the memories came back to him.

Aizawa-sensei was telling the truth. He remembered reaching for Kacchan, putting himself between him and the danger, ready to fight tooth and nail to keep him safe. And as the pictures flashed before his inner eye, he also noticed the deep scratches on Aizawa-sensei’s hand - and remembered

how

they got there.

“I-I’m sorry,” Izuku cried, eyes pressing shut as guilt was clawing through him with sharp talons. “I’m sorry,

I’m sorry…!”

“Calm down, Midoriya. I know you mean it.” Aizawa-sensei’s voice was calm, yet stern. “However, I will still have to talk with the faculty about this incident and how to proceed. We cannot risk you attacking fellow students, teachers, or innocents.” He paused and Izuku curled slightly into himself, his chest feeling tighter by the second.

God, what had he done? What if he had lost control of the Embers and seriously engaged in a fight? Some of their classmates had been close by, not to mention the floors above and beneath their’s.

And Kacchan. Dear God,

Kacchan.

“I-is he okay?” Izuku wheezed, hand grabbing a fistful of his shirt right above his heart. It hurt so,

so

much, but the weight of what he did was worse still.

“Let’s focus on yourself for the time being,” was all Aizawa-sensei replied. “You understand we have to take this incident and what you told me seriously. Maybe it was too soon yet for you to return to class.”

Izuku gasped, the dread in his chest swelling even more. “Are you saying you… want to expel me…?” he asked with a trembling voice. His eyes were so filled with tears his sight was blurry, so much so Aizawa-sensei became a dark blob.

“Don’t be irrational,” Aizawa-sensei replied, “You are sick; so what we’ll do is help you get better. And if your therapist suggests you will benefit from a break from school, then you’ll take one.” There was a rustle when Aizawa-sensei got up and walked around the coffee table separating them. When his hand dropped onto Izuku’s head he added, “Being here is practically a minefield of potential triggers for you. However, keeping you isolated could very well make you feel even worse.” He gently ruffled the messy green locks. “So we will get you an appointment with a specialist. Stay here and rest while I make some preparations for class. When I come back, we will see if you can keep down some food before we tackle this. Alright?”

Still upset, Izuku sniffled, “... Please don’t kick me out.” He fought the urge to knock his fist onto his chest, forced his breathing to stay calm despite the cold despair gripping his heart. If he couldn’t see his friends anymore, then…!

Aizawa-sensei heaved a sigh, ruffling his hair some more. “Rest a little, Midoriya. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

---

Gritting his teeth until his jaw hurt, Katsuki stood in front of the Nurse’s Office, glaring daggers at the door. He’d been there for a couple of minutes already; barely able to stop himself he’d almost barged right in, however hesitated once the situation truly sunk into him.

From what Aizawa-sensei said, he’d have to comply to some degree –

if

he ever wanted to roam around as he wanted to, at least. No doubt the hobo would come up with more ways to be a thorn in his side, even besides notifying his parents. Katsuki’s hand was forced as things currently stood, and he could be pissed off as much as he wanted, in the end he was in no position to argue.

So after steeling himself, Katsuki drew in a deep breath and knocked a couple of times against the wood. However, he

did

walk in without waiting for a reply. That was about the maximum amount of courtesy he was willing to show, especially given the circumstances.

“Ah, Bakugo!” the granny greeted good-naturedly and hopped off her chair at the desk. “I’m glad to see Aizawa already spoke to you and you sought me out so soon. How have you been?”

Katsuki curled his lips in a snarl and pranced over to one of the chairs before plopping into the seat unceremoniously. “From what I’ve been told, it doesn’t matter

what

I say,” he grouched, “So let’s get this over with already.” He was so angry he wanted to cross his arms in front of his chest in defiance, however with his bad arm still in the brace it would only look stupid if he lifted his other one.

Recovery Grandma heaved a sigh and her shoulders slouched as she leaned heavier on her cane. “Shota did say this wouldn’t be easy... But I hoped it wouldn’t be

this

difficult either,” she muttered with a shake of her head. Looking up at his face, she explained, “All we want is for you to make a swift recovery. And to achieve that, it would be best if you were honest, with me at least. We can keep the details confidential, though I will have to disclose a bit of information with Aizawa at least as your homeroom teacher.”

Clicking his tongue, Katsuki spat, “Yeah, right. And who decides what is confidential and what not?” He gritted his teeth and stared at the ground, frustration getting the better of him.

“Well I’m sure we can come to an agreement,” she answered, not even fazed at his hostility. “But before that, what happened to your arm?”

Almost flinching, Katsuki curled his arm against his chest. He’d almost forgotten about the damn bruises.

“Let me see,” granny ordered, holding out a hand expectantly. Sighing Katsuki stretched out his arm, remaining pliant when she turned his wrist this way and that as she checked him over. “Wanna tell me what happened?” she asked, not even looking up as she curled his fingers in and out.

“Accident,” was Katsuki’s curt reply. “I still got the watch, but the band’s broken.”

She hummed as she moved to examine the finger-shaped bruises on his lower arm. “I have some replacements here. You should wear the monitor as much as possible so we can properly track your heartbeat.” Eventually she released him. “These wounds aren’t too bad. A wrapping and some salve and you’ll be good to go.” She smiled gently as she spoke before turning on the spot and heading to one of the cabinets, pulling out various supplies.

Shit. Was she only going to dress the arm?

That wouldn’t do, damn it.

His hand curling into a fist on top of his thigh, Katsuki asked, “Can’t you just heal it?”

Recovery Grandma stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder. Katsuki pointedly looked into another direction.

“If possible, I want to avoid sapping your stamina so your body can focus on healing your nerves and heart,” she stated, voice careful and neutral. When Katsuki tsk-ed, she abandoned her task and approached instead, close enough to lay a hand on his other thigh. “Why do you want me to heal it instantly?” she asked, gentle and understanding. It reminded Katsuki of his father, when he was upset or hurt and he came to check on him when he was but a brat.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he replied, “A guy was involved. If he sees the bandages, it’ll upset him more.” He hung his head, still not looking at the granny. “I don’t want that. I was the one who messed up, but I know the idiot’s gonna feel guilty anyway. Even if it throws my recovery back a little, I don’t care. Making him suffer more is worse.”

For a while silence hung over them, heavy and loaded. Katsuki knew it was a selfish request and given his attitude and general behaviour she didn’t owe him in the slightest. But when the sad green eyes and those wobbly lips sprung to his mind, he found himself willing to ask anyway.

Just before Katsuki opened his mouth to reason with her, a pair of lips smooched his cheek and he gave an undignified squawk. He could feel how he grew more tired, however also how the pain in his wrist instantly eased. Yet it did little to alleviate the disgust and embarrassment, so Katsuki instantly rubbed his cheek once she was done.

“There, there,” granny hummed as she rummaged through one of her pockets. “Now you eat this while I get a new band for your watch.” She dropped a packed up bonbon on Katsuki’s thigh and headed to the cabinets once again, putting away the no longer needed supplies and retrieving a band instead.

Eyes narrowed, Katsuki examined the candy she left with him. Hm. Lemon sour was at least a somewhat bearable taste compared to the sugary stuff she usually carried around. Quickly he undid the wrapping and popped the bonbon into his mouth, then searched through his schoolbag for the watch.

It couldn’t have been longer than two minutes before the granny returned to his side, once again holding out her hand. Wordlessly Katsuki dropped the watch into her palm, still rolling around the bonbon in his mouth as he watched her deftly replace the band. “Your wrist, please,” she said, prompting him to hold out his arm for her to fasten it back into place.

The moment his heartbeat registered, the number flashed up white on the display. 78; perfectly average, though Katsuki was sure his baseline used to be considerably lower. After months of rest and barely any exercise, that wasn’t too surprising, however he couldn’t help the frown as he glared at the number as if it offended him.

“Now that that’s settled,” Recovery Grandma stated, disturbing his thoughts, “Let’s talk about a plan, okay?”

Katsuki huffed, his lips curling back in yet another snarl. “The doctors said I can do light work just fine,” he grumbled, “So what’s the deal with this, anyway? I’ve been doing fine for weeks.”

She held his glare unflinchingly and replied, “That does only apply so long as you’re not in pain.”

Gritting his teeth Katsuki curled his hand into a fist on top of his thigh. “I was told physical therapy would be hell-“

“Bakugo,” she interrupted him, gentle but firm. “Several teachers reported you spasming and breaking out in cold sweat mid class. Not enough for the average person to notice, but the faculty is made of heroes with keen eyes.” She pulled over a stool with wheels and hopped on top, bringing them closer to eye level. “And since you didn’t come by to resupply, I have my doubts you’re taking your prescribed pain-killers.”

Katsuki pressed his mouth into a thin line, breathing hard through his nose. Through the corner of his eye he saw the number on the display go up – so he dropped his arm to his side, getting the damn thing out of his sight.

“While it is true you shouldn’t completely numb yourself, the aid is essential. Too much pain would prevent you from moving naturally which affects your healing progress, and if you are constantly aching you won’t be able to notice

when

you actually push yourself too hard.” Her voice was sterile in a professional way, the previous empathy completely vanished as she listed out the hard facts.

Hard facts Katsuki was very, very well aware of.

And yet...

Bowing his head, Katsuki glared at the floor again. Words were sticking on the tip of his tongue, stubborn like toffee, and he crunched the bonbon between his teeth in frustration as a familiar tension spread across his palm – and, when he refused to acknowledge it, crept slowly up his entire arm.

A hand landed on his thigh once again as the granny asked, warmth dripping from every word as she spoke, “Why won’t you take your medicine, dear? If you tell me your problem, maybe I can think of a solution.”

For a moment Katsuki hesitated, unsure whether he wanted to disclose the information. It would leave him open, vulnerable to judgement, and if word got around it would make things just that much harder for himself and everyone else.

“... Confidentially?” he eventually asked, barely looking up at her through his lashes.

“It will stay between us,” she confirmed with a nod.

Worrying his lip – God that was so embarrassing and weak of him, disgusting – Katsuki took another few breaths to psyche himself up before he finally opened his mouth.

“The painkillers make me sweat harder,” he said in a low voice, “Must be a side effect. Before it wouldn’t have been a problem, but ever since nut-sack-face my Quirk...” Trailing off Katsuki heaved a sigh. He had to finally stop beating around the damn bush; he was fucking

stronger

than that. “I haven’t gotten used to controlling my explosions outside of my palms yet. I kept setting them off around me – in bed, during PT, under the fucking shower. Before I don’t get proper clearance, I can’t practise my Quirk either. So. I stopped taking them.”

There. He’d finally said it.

“I see,” the granny replied, taking back her hand to instead tap along her own chin in thought. “Your Quirk developed onto the next level. From what I heard, what you did was so astonishing it might have been a one-time thing due to the extraordinary circumstances.” She hummed to herself, a deep, soothing noise. “Are you certain the shift is permanent?”

“From what I can tell, yeah. It’s here to stay alright,” Katsuki replied, a little more at ease. While it was an amazing discovery – after all, he grew even stronger, bringing him yet another step closer to becoming number one and leaving Deku struggling to catch up –, until he was fully healed it was just inconvenient.

Besides the annoyance of randomly blowing up things and his possessions... he didn’t want to endanger the extras. It was one thing setting off explosions in their faces when they got too close when he was in full control; with the amount of sweat he produced all around his body the size of his blasts were unpredictable, to the point they became a real threat.

For a while they sat in silence, but eventually Recovery Grandma spoke up.

“There are a few options we can choose from,” she stated, her voice so neutral it actually made Katsuki feel a little better about his confession. “The most reliable way would be quirk suppressants. The legal ones, of course.” She crossed her hands on top of her cane leisurely. “They nullify quirk abilities to a fault. That would keep you from causing explosions completely, however, which is something you should take into consideration. They also shouldn’t be taken for longer than a few weeks; long-term effects can result in complete alternations of your Quirk.”

Katsuki felt chills running down his back at the information. “Yeah, no. I won’t take that shit,” he instantly decided. Hell, he was going through the agony of rehab because he wanted to

keep

his arm. He wasn’t going to mess up his entire body with drugs instead.

“I assumed you would have these concerns,” she answered, “Still, I think you should keep some on hand for situations like fevers. Infections can still hit you and once you get sick, it would be harder for you to get your medicine. There won’t be any changes if you take them for a mere couple of days.”

… Okay, that made sense. Given he was struck down by a nasty sickness he didn’t want to risk blowing himself up while he rode out a fever. Still, Katsuki couldn’t help glaring at the idea of forcefully suppressing his Quirk, even if it was for just a little while.

“Another option is changing the brand of pain-killers. I can look into some alternatives with other side-effects, but that will take some time and we might have to do some trial and error. Another thing we can do is give you medicine that’ll battle the production in your glands or some components you need for the explosive effect to happen in the first place.” Her eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. “However, additional pills on top will put more strain on your liver and kidneys, and given how much you have to take your digestive system is going to get affected as well.”

Katsuki’s frown darkened by the minute, and his mood soured along with it. Ugh. He knew the talk was going to be shit, yet unavoidable. At least she did prove to be somewhat helpful; the additional information was helping him get a better perspective on his situation and, unlike with his usual physician, she likely wouldn’t rat him out to his parents.

Aizawa-sensei was a whole other can of worms, but well, he was going to get involved one way or another anyway. At least Katsuki knew what to expect like this.

“I’d go for another type of pain-killers if that’s possible,” he eventually replied after some consideration. “This whole body-wide explosion thing came from me messing with the glands and they get tender when I can’t let loose the occasional blast. Until I get a grip, I’d rather not have more shit randomly popping up.”

“Understandable. I’ll have something at hand by tomorrow morning, so please stop by before class,” the granny replied with a nod. “With that settled, why don’t we talk about the plan of recovery you came here for?”

Heaving a long, suffering sigh, Katsuki rolled his eyes - and then nodded. Maybe he could convince her into throwing him a bone and include some physical exercise beside what he had to do for the therapy.

If he stayed cooped up like this for even longer and wouldn’t be allowed to work in the field either, he was going to go

insane.

---
 
Lunch was a strange affair.

Like every other day, Shoto grabbed his food and joined Iida on the table they claimed since the first year with Uraraka in tow. Iida was already waiting, almost done with his helping in fact, and he adjusted his glasses once he spotted them.

“It took you quite some time today,” he stated when they took a seat, “And where’s Midoriya? Did something happen?”

“Well…” Uraraka pushed her pasta around with her chopsticks. “Deku is with sensei. He… wasn’t doing so good,” she replied, as vague as she could. Shoto doubted he’d been able to put it like that; he usually fumbled and tended to slip up when trying to hold a secret.

“I see,” Iida answered, and from his tone Shoto could tell he was worried but knew better than to pry. “If he’s with sensei, I’m sure he’ll be fine. It is imperative we act when one of us is unwell!”

“Yeah,” Shoto agreed, albeit weakly. He still felt bad about how little he could do back in the classroom… and wondered if Midoriya would be okay. Maybe it was better for him to stay back and rest up. Panic attacks were exhausting and he’d looked about ready to keel over by the time Aizawa-sensei herded him out of the room.

“Todoroki,” Iida suddenly called, making Shoto snap his head up from the cold Soba he still hadn’t taken as much as a bite of. “That is Midoriya’s backpack, no? Will he be joining us or should I take it back to the dorms?”

For a moment Shoto just blinked. “Yaoyorozu said she’ll be checking in with sensei,” he said, noting how Iida’s eyebrows furrowed when he mentioned her name, “Until then, I’ll be holding on to his bag. I offered, after all.”

Iida hummed as he adjusted his glasses again. “If you say so…”

Shoto pressed his lips together, his hand tightening around the chopsticks he was holding. His appetite was poor, yet he forced himself to gulp down a mouthful of noodles anyway, chewing around the pang of guilt for making Iida even more worried. It made him question if he would be able to help Midoriya in the first place.

He couldn’t even reassure one of his best friends during a calm meal. In fact, he might have made things even worse to a fault.

“Sooo, Iida!” Uraraka suddenly said, breaking the heavy silence spreading across the table. “Deku said he wanted to get some groceries. I could text him and ask what he needs? We could pick them up once we’re done in the city for him.”

“Oh?” Iida replied, his attention turning to her. “I wonder if he will have the mind to write back though. Midoriya can be awfully unreliable when it comes to answering his phone - especially during schooltime! We should take a page out of his book in that regard, in fact, and refrain from using our phones until classes are over.”

Uraraka tilted her head with a forced smile as she replied, “We kind of need to know what he has on his list to get it though. And we

are

on break for now.”

“That’s… true,” Iida said carefully, his hand coming up to cover his lips and grab his chin as he thought. “Though, I recall him mentioning he wanted to cook some curry tonight. So perhaps he wanted to get the ingredients for it? And if he doesn’t, we can always use them ourselves-”

For a while Shoto simply observed their exchange. It was impossible to miss how Uraraka managed to shift the mood on their table, so subtly and gently, and how focused Iida was on providing his own assistance. They reminded him of Midoriya, so much so he deflated a little. He, too, would have instantly come up with ways to turn the heavy situation around and relieve those around himself. And, again, Shoto was left behind in his inactivity and passiveness. Even during Midoriya’s panic attack, he’d ended up looking at Bakugo first and foremost for guidance, for a spark or a push to finally get himself to

act.

He needed to do better.

Be

better. Find the drive inside his own self instead of relying on his environment to make the decision for him and direct his actions. How was he supposed to save people if he had to wait for instructions first?

Eyebrows furrowing at his newfound determination, Shoto stared at his Soba before slurping it down, barely chewing before he swallowed. He’d always look at others for inspiration - how could he not, when his peers were such great people brimming with talent and potential - but if he wanted to be someone they could lean on, he had to start moving more independently. When they were in a position where they couldn’t move, he’d have to be strong enough to make the first step instead.

Finishing his meal in record time, he drowned the rest of his glass of water before pulling out his phone. He’d text Midoriya and inform him he had his schoolbag and ask whether he was going to reclaim it or if he had the permission to leave it by their dorm.

The message was written within seconds and before the doubt had a chance to creep back in, Shoto send it off-

… Only for a dull vibrating sound to come from the yellow backpack on the floor next to him.

All three of them looked over at the noise, silence spreading between them once again.

“That’s Deku for you,” Uraraka eventually sighed, resting her head on top of her hand.

“Well, you shouldn’t carry your phone on yourself during class, so it makes sense he left it in his bag for the time being,” Iida supplied, “In fact, that is something every student should take to heart! Especially Kaminari could use a reminder of that. I shall talk to him about it next time I see him.”

Though his plan didn’t work out, Shoto still found himself chuckling softly.

They finished their Lunch in compassional silence, though Iida left a little earlier to meet up with Yaoyorozu. As the diligent class president, he found it was his responsibility to look into the matter at hand and offer his vice some support.

Before long, Shoto found himself trotting to the bus station with Uraraka in tow. “You think Deku will be okay?” she asked as they walked, making Shoto look up from the ground.

“Midoriya always pushes through,” he supplied, completely convinced of his words. “But he tends to bite off more than he can chew.”

Uraraka sighed heavily. “Too true. I just…” She trailed off, and when Shoto looked over at her he watched her bite her lips. “I hope he actually gets treatment. Or talks to somebody.” Her hand laid across her stomach. “If you let it fester… it hollows you out. And Deku is so quick to brush everything off with a smile, never showing what’s eating him up inside.”

For a moment Shoto just looked at her. “Uraraka,” he eventually said, “Are you okay?”

She flinched, her head whipping around to face him. “Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean to make this about myself,” she replied with a nervous smile. “I just… I did seek out therapy after the war. It helped a little, but it was hard to open up. I can imagine Deku struggling with it or thinking he wouldn’t want to be a burden to anyone.”

Shoto hummed thoughtfully. “That does sound like something he’d think,” he confirmed. “We should follow up with him next time we meet. Even if sensei got through to him, he’ll overthink and talk himself out of getting the help he needs if left alone.” Though the words felt bitter on his tongue, Shoto eventually added, “We should involve Bakugo, too. Midoriya would listen to him.”

Uraraka laughed at his comment, though it sounded a little nervous. “I’m not so sure about that,” she said with a strained smile. “Knowing Bakugo, he’ll explode if it’s actually true Deku never sought out treatment. Beat him unconscious before dragging him to an office himself or force him to spill his heart out right then and there. I don’t know if that approach is gonna do any of them any good.” She crossed her arms behind her back and looked briefly up; it was a nice day, despite a few clouds crossing over the sky. “You should be the one to talk to Deku, Todoroki.”

Slowing his steps, Shoto looked over at her with his eyes slightly widening. “Why me?” he asked as he picked up his speed again, only slowing once they were back on the same level.

“You’re a very calm person. If Deku fights back - because he

definitely

will - you won’t let the mood boil over, but you’re persistent enough to get your point across anyway.” Her brown eyes were clear and focused as she turned them on him. “And he really values your input. Whenever you have something to say, Deku listens to you just as attentively as Bakugo. There’s no reason to sell yourself short.”

The thought was heady; Midoriya, paying attention to what he said on a level that compared to ‘Kacchan’? Sure, they were friends, pretty close ones in fact. But did Midoriya get

that spark

in his eyes when Shoto spoke?

Slightly panicking, Shoto couldn’t recall whether he did or not.

Before he could fully start spiraling, they reached the spot where the bus was waiting - but instead of Aizawa-sensei, Shoto spotted someone else standing beside it.

“Isn’t that…?” Uraraka whispered as they approached.

They were met with a large, toothy smile and a warm greeting. “Young Uraraka! Young Todoroki! Good to see you, kids!”

“All Might,” Shoto returned, barely keeping the surprise off his voice. They had barely seen him around since the war and his fight against All For One; he’d already been in bad health before and had been bed bound well past the time they all were released. He looked even thinner than before, but his cheeks had more color to them. Still Shoto spotted a few bandages peeking out from the seams of his clothes.

“Oh,” All Might exclaimed. “I see you have Young Midoriya’s backpack.” His smile fell a little as he asked, “Could you drop it off at the dorms? He is busy with Aizawa, hence why I am here to accompany you instead.”

Shoto’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked All Might over. “Is it really okay? Your wounds haven’t fully healed yet.”

All Might gave him a thumbs up. “I can oversee the repair work for one afternoon. And since it was Aizawa who asked, I don’t want to let him down.” His arm dropped again and his eyes seemed to curve as he closed them with yet another smile. “Thank you for worrying, Young Todoroki. I promise I’ll take it easy.”

Somehow Shoto doubted that. If there was something All Might lacked, it was self restraint. But he wasn’t in a position to complain; All Might was their substitute homeroom teacher and if Aizawa-sensei sent him there wasn’t really anything he could do.

… Midoriya and Bakugo wouldn’t stand for that if they were there. Midoriya would run his mouth uttering his concerns and bring arguments as to why it was better for All Might to stay back while Bakugo would simply flat-out tell him he’d be just getting in the way if they had to keep an eye on him too.

Just at Lunch Shoto had decided to step out of his comfort zone and not let himself be trapped in inactivity. However, breaking old habits was a lot tougher than he thought.

“Sir, can I make your body lighter?” Uraraka suddenly asked, drawing both of their attention. “I think it would be easier on you and your movements.”

“Ah.” All Might scratched the corner of his chin almost sheepishly at the offer. “I don’t want you to tire yourself out though. It’s better if you use your Quirk to move around and clear the debris.”

Uraraka shook her head so much her hair rustled. “I expanded my limits greatly and I wouldn’t make you entirely float. Taking a little weight off your shoulders won’t exhaust me at all!”

“Well, who am I to stop you when you’re so fired up!” All Might replied with a chuckle. “In that case, thank you, Young Uraraka.” He held out his hand which Uraraka quickly touched. The moment their skin came into contact, Shoto noticed how he stood a little straighter, his posture much better than just a heartbeat before.

Being a useful help to others… She made it look so effortless.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, already turning and breaking into a jog toward the dorms. He held onto the straps of the yellow backpack tightly, keeping it from shifting too much while completely ignoring how his messenger’s bag slapped against his side as he thought. His classmates and friends were an endless well of inspiration; the strive to help others, to ease their troubles and pains, was something each and every one of them carried inside.

Suddenly Shoto understood why Midoriya always kept a book and pen on himself. Categorizing and memorizing everything they did and said was nigh impossible on the fly, yet undoubtedly noteworthy. There was so much to learn just by being with them, Shoto had no idea how he should go about it.

As he contemplated his next steps, Shoto made it all the way to the dorms and left Midoriya’s backpack just beyond the entrance where it could be easily spotted. He broke into another jog as he headed back to the bus. He’d be quicker if he used his ice, but as he ran, he realized his stamina was average at best. His heart beat fast in his chest and his breath was coming weirdly; maybe he should start going for runs every now and then beside the Quirk-training he frequently did.

Eventually though he was back, puffing out breath as he boarded the bus and looked for a seat.

“Oh, Todoroki,” Asui suddenly called as he passed by, making him stop. “I found this outside earlier and forgot to give it to you,” she said as she reached into the pocket of her jacket - and produced a plain white envelope. “It’s addressed to you, but there is no name on it.” Her large, unblinking eyes looked up at him, her head slightly cocked to the side.

“Is it a letter?” Uraraka wondered as she sat up in the seat next to her, peering over. Shoto accepted the envelope, reading the ‘To Todoroki-kun’ on the front. The honorific wasn’t that unusual; ever since the new year started, he’d had many people call him that. Mostly female first year’s who had been harassing him and Bakugo especially fiercely.

“Ooooh, is it a

love letter?!”

Ashido asked, halfway climbing out of her seat as she overheard.

“You think?!” Hagakure was quick to join, just as enthusiastic. The attention was growing, so Shoto folded the letter and packed it into his pocket before Iida felt the urge to step in.

“I’ll read it later in private,” he announced - and almost all of the girls and even a few boys groaned in unity at that.

“Maan, you can’t just leave us hanging like that, Roki,” Sero sighed, though he had one eye closed in a wink. Mineta was grinding his teeth behind him, clearly distressed and muttering to himself.

“I want to honor whoever wrote me,” Shoto stated matter-of-factly, “So regardless of the content, I won’t disclose it. I’d feel bad if someone shared what I wrote in a letter without my consent, too.”

He heard Hagakure sigh dreamily, the sleeves of her clothes aligning as if she was clutching her hands together beside her head. “Todoroki is such a gentleman… So respectful!” She started wiggling on the spot. “Though the suspense is killing meeee!”

“You and me both, fam,” Ashido whispered, one hand clenched on top of her chest and face pinched as if she was in pain. It had Shoto so worried he almost apologized, but before he could speak All Might urged them all to sit down so the bus could drive them to their destination.

Quickly Shoto sat on the next free spot, which happened to be next to Tokoyami. He gave him a nod as he sat, the suitcase with his suit and equipment easily fitting into the space between the backrest in front of him and his legs while he kept his messenger’s bag on.

As the engine rumbled to life and they drove off, he patted down his pocket with curiosity. He wondered who wrote him and what they had to say, but it would have to wait until classes were over for him to find out.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was so, so much worse than what Izuku expected. As he had said, Aizawa-sensei returned mere 30 minutes after he left. It was barely enough time for Izuku to dry his tears and wrestle his guilt down enough to function. He’d even picked up the bottle he dropped and dried up the water with tissues. Doubting he’d be able to keep anything down - Izuku was still so upset he didn’t want to risk getting something into his stomach if he was just going to vomit it out again - Aizawa-sensei led him to the teacher’s lounge instead. He got out the list he mentioned, along with some bullet-points about the counselors and their location for Izuku to look through…… While he himself called his mother. At first, Aizawa-sensei had given him the choice; given the severity of the situation and that he was still underage, there was really no avoiding notifying her at that point. In fact, she might even have to accompany him to appointments. But at least Aizawa-sensei offered him to take care of informing her in his stead. And, as ashamed as that made him, Izuku agreed. He was already a complete mess, his thoughts jumbled and skin tingling. His mother was just as emotionally sensitive and constantly worried about him as it was. She’d undoubtedly break out into tears at yet another confirmation that her anxiety was well-founded, not to mention she’d be devastated to hear about his struggles after he spent the better half of a year at home with her. Maybe she’d even blame herself - for not noticing earlier, for not asking more persistently, for not forcing him to quit school and do something, anything else that might keep him out of harm's way. Izuku knew it was his responsibility to break the news to his mother. However, he was so drained and tired he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.  And yet all Aizawa-sensei did was ruffle his hair and tell him it was okay when he teared up, embarrassed by his own weakness. Squeezing his eyes shut so hard he saw sparks, Izuku sat with bated breath on one of the chairs by the desks as he heard the phone ring. After just a few seconds it was picked up, and he flinched when Aizawa-sensei started speaking in a calm, collected tone. “Aizawa from U.A. speaking,” he introduced himself, “Is this Mrs. Midoriya?” There was a moment of silence where Aizawa-sensei closed his eyes. “Yes, I am calling because of Izuku… Saying he is ‘well’ is a bit of a stretch; physically he is fine, however there is something I need to discuss with you. Too urgently to do so face-to-face.” He drew in a breath before he explained, “There is reason to believe Izuku is suffering from PTSD. We would like him to get in touch with-” Suddenly Aizawa-sensei stopped and, even from a distance, Izuku could hear his mother’s sobs. The sounds broke his heart, all the more when he heard muffled noises that had to be her trying to speak. In response, tears gathered in his eyes and he had to suppress a cry of his own. “Mrs. Midoriya,” Aizawa-sensei called, almost sternly, “You are not at fault. While I am no specialist, I have reason to believe there was nothing in your home environment that could potentially trigger an episode. Hence I doubt you had any chance nor reason to think anything was amiss. Blaming yourself for not noticing or not looking closer is pointless, ma’am.”  Izuku knew the tone Aizawa-sensei was using - had heard it plenty of times when he chided him or one of his classmates. In fact, Izuku half-expected him to activate his Quirk out of sheer habit, though it was completely effectless over the phone. Yet Izuku knew his mother was undoubtedly standing at attention, the words breaking through her sorrow and reaching her. Aizawa-sensei wasn’t reprimanding her; far from it, in fact. Izuku knew for a fact he spoke like that because he cared, deeply so, and wanted them to get back on track and focus on what was important. “As U.A., we have access to a broad network of counselors, therapists, and doctors. I would like to set Izuku up with a meeting with one asap. Of course I can forward the information to you, though to save time, I would humbly request your permission to act as your proxy in this case.” He turned his head until his eye met Izuku’s, piercing and unblinking. “There was an incident earlier today, and while luckily nobody was seriously harmed, I would like to avoid a repeat of it. Hence the urgency of my request.” Izuku squirmed on his seat, his shoulders slumping at the reminder. Once he reflected about it, he had to agree; they were damn lucky the situation didn’t escalate. Though he only had the Embers, Izuku could still fight like a beast if it came down to it, especially if he was under the impression it would save somebody else. Even if Aizawa-sensei negated his Quirk, he wouldn’t have stopped. “Izuku is here with me, however I suggested to make the call instead,” Aizawa-sensei said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “It was a very stressful and tiring situation for him, therefore I thought it better to speak with you about it to avoid exhausting him even further. I’m certain he’ll reach out once he can.” He turned his head back around, staring ahead instead. Curling his fingers into the fabric of his pants, Izuku mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ regardless. “One more thing, Mrs. Midoriya,” he said before drawing in a deep breath. “Depending on the form of therapy, it can be mandatory for a guardian to be present. I wanted to warn you in ca-” Confused as to why Aizawa-sensei stopped, Izuku furrowed his brows and cocked his head. “... That can be arranged, of course… Can I take it that we have your permission to proceed as your proxy, then?” There was a moment of silence. “Okay. Thank you for your trust, ma’am. I will personally see that every information meant for the guardian will be forwarded to you. If you prefere, I can send you an official form where you can name me or All Might, or even both, as Izuku’s chaperone,” Aizawa-sensei’s tone got a little tired at his next words, “As is it, I am experienced in that regard. … Alright. Thank you for the talk, Mrs. Midoriya.” And with that, he finally hung up. Before Izuku had the chance to ask, Aizawa-sensei explained, “Your mother would like for All Might to accompany you to appointments if needed. Said something about them ‘being in an agreement’ of some sorts.” Slowly he turned back around, his one eye narrowed in slight annoyance. Izuku gave a nervous smile at that - even after the turbulent year, Aizawa-sensei was still on the fence about everything and anything in regards to All Might. And after his brief time as a vigilante… Aizawa-sensei was even more sceptical when it came to his idol. However, instead of making a snide remark or starting a lecture, Aizawa-sensei motioned at the papers in Izuku’s hands with his chin. “Have you picked out some?” he asked, and Izuku flinched and riffled through the profiles, quickly skimming them. Sighing heavily, Aizawa-sensei got up from his desk and moved to a chair closer to him. “I understand you’re tired, but that is no excuse to neglect your task, Midoriya.” Izuku shrunk a little into his seat as he muttered, “Sorry. I’ll focus now, Sensei.” “Good.” The chair creaked when Aizawa-sensei shifted his weight. “You can pick out multiple ones. I’ll contact them and schedule an appointment, preferably sooner rather than later. If it happens to be during school-time, I’ll give you an excuse to leave campus.” After a short pause, he added, “All Might can take over my classes. I’ll drop you at the therapist’s place myself.” Too tired to protest more, Izuku hung his head and quietly complied. It wasn’t like he was ungrateful. In fact, he considered himself lucky that Aizawa-sensei cared enough to go out of his way to help, regardless of all the inconveniences and problems Izuku caused. His mother had been upset and emotional, just like him, and he knew how annoyed Aizawa-sensei got by that given his passion for rational and efficient work. Not to mention it happened rarely to never that he’d willingly pass on his duties as homeroom teacher and even go as far as to tolerate Izuku potentially skipping lessons. Only a fool would take such kindness as a given, especially coming from such an often detached and disciplined adult. However, all the attention also made Izuku feel awfully exposed. Not to mention the thought of opening up to a literal stranger or swallowing pills to get a grip on himself was troubling; there were things he couldn’t - and wouldn’t - disclose, no matter the situation. Not only in regards of One For All. … What if they dug deep enough to unearth his feelings? What if they encouraged him to act on them, or judge him for it? What if they put him on medication that would alter the way he thought and acted? The worry made his stomach squirm and turn into knots, so much so he was glad he skipped lunch. But there was no way out of this… No way but forging ahead. And so Izuku spent the better half of an hour carefully reading through the profiles of the consultants and therapists and selected a handful. Aizawa-sensei brewed him some tea to sip while he made the calls, inquiring about the next available slots and how soon they could see them. In the end Izuku found himself seen off in the early afternoon with an appointment at nine a.m. on the following day. Aizawa-sensei told him to take it easy and head for the dorms with the order to call if he felt himself slipping again. Izuku was grateful for the break, though he felt a bunch of nervous energy buzz through his body. When he walked into the dorm, he spotted his yellow backpack by the door - his possessions neatly put inside it, though rather randomly. He still found his phone and picked it up, his eyebrows furrowing at the notification on the screen. “Todoroki-kun?” he whispered to himself, slightly confused. Why would he send him a message? Curious, Izuku opened it up - and couldn’t help the smile curling over his lips as he read the text.

Todoroki-kun always sounded so polite and formal when he texted. Some would say he was stiff to a fault, but honestly, Izuku found it incredibly charming. The way he spoke carried an underlying care at all times, so very different than back when they met during their first year. One couldn’t help but feel validated and valued when Todoroki addressed them. Biting his bottom lip - Izuku always felt a little nervous when they talked, even if it was through text - he typed out a quick reply where he thanked him and apologized for the trouble, as well as confirming he found his backpack safe and sound at the dorms. He then slung one of the yellow straps over his shoulder and started for the stairs; given he wouldn’t attend any more lessons, he might as well drop it off in his room. There were still a few hours to go before everyone else came back - those who didn’t attend clubs, that was. Their internships had been suspended for the time being as the faculty decided they had seen enough fighting lately. They still ended up going to town to help with repairs or assisting the citizens though. However, after the day he’d had, Izuku doubted he could do much out in the field. He was tired yet restless, his mind full of thoughts but still drawing occasional blanks. And given the pending appointment his nerves were acting up, too. Being around others was probably… not that good of an idea. At least until he managed to properly calm himself down again. His backpack landed with a dull thud on his floor as he sighed. He probably should go through his stuff, get it back into order. Probably Todoroki-kun or some of the others had just gathered everything and put it away; at least Uraraka knew he liked his things in a certain way, though he doubted she understood the order he had established. However, going through his things would also mean coming across the letters he carried around, and Izuku was in no shape to deal with his unrequited feelings and the guilt for having them. In fact, they might send him spiralling - just like when he first unearthed them from the box a few weeks ago. Come to think of it… Maybe that was the first sign of having PTSD? For a fleeting moment, Izuku felt the urge to boot his laptop and research on the topic, but the knot in his stomach made him decide against looking up anything. If anything, the specialist he was supposed to meet tomorrow would likely be a better judge of that. Fingers twitching, Izuku shifted his weight on the spot. God, he was restless; it felt like he had to consciously force himself to stand still. No way he could sit down and start working on his homework like that. He needed to do something, lest he started to burst. … He wished Todoroki-kun was back already. His calm and collected nature was contagious, so much so his mere presence was comforting. Izuku rarely felt as peaceful as when he dropped by his room to admire his All Might collection, attentively listening to the trivia Izuku had to every single figure, his expression remaining neutral but a certain spark twinkling in his eyes as Izuku spoke and yapped and muttered to his heart's content. Maybe he could invite him over one of these days? Just to spend a little time together. Before he could, however, Izuku had to get a grip on himself again. Sighing, he eventually headed to his wardrobe and pushed it open, retrieving the duffel bag with his sportswear. If he couldn’t sit still, he might as well try to release the restless energy with a workout. Although he only had the Embers left, the daily exercises were firmly carved into his being, so much so he still found himself at the school’s gym or practising in the woods near the dorms every evening. With that plan in mind, Izuku swung the strap of the duffel over his shoulder and left his room - completely missing the fact the battery of his phone had dropped below 5%.  ---  Katsuki barely stepped out of the Nurse Office when the bell announcing the end of the sixth period rang. Recovery Grandma kept him in her office for a thorough check-up on his arm and even did some PT with him afterwards. The plan for the next few weeks was safely tucked in his messenger bag and she even printed out a second copy he could hand over to Aizawa-sensei, just as the hobo had requested. Hopefully it would be enough to appease him; even if there wasn’t much he could do out there in the field, it was still a welcomed change of pace for Katsuki. Seeing the damage on the city slowly being undone was cathartic to a fault, strangely rewarding despite him preferring the rush of battle. For the time being, though, he had nothing better to do than head back to the dorms. The muscles in his right arm and hand buzzed in slight pain and exhaustion, and since the granny worked him pretty hard, he opted to avoid using it any more for the day. Unfortunately that meant cooking was off the table; no way he could hold onto anything and with just one hand there wasn’t much he could do. … Fucking pathetic. He was so useless even after so much time for recovery. In hindsight, he should have gone and talked to the stubborn nurse sooner and got his shit with the medication figured out. Then, maybe, he would have been able to bring Deku back to his senses sooner or even managed to avoid getting into the situation to begin with. Killing the self-proclaimed demon lord and saving All Might had gotten to his head, had given him the impression that he was unbeatable and indomitable, that he could do anything. But as it was, Katsuki just felt like a dumb teenager with way too much pride. With gritted teeth and a frown on his face he stamped all the way to the dorms, subconsciously taking the stealthier road there. The damn extras from the first year were obnoxious enough to ignore his bad mood and Katsuki didn’t trust himself to keep from setting off a couple of explosions in their faces when they got too much into his own. At least the ones from the hero course were still stuck in their seventh period; those were, by far, the worst.  Eventually he walked through the door, a sigh leaving his lips when he toed off his shoes at the entrance. With so much time at his hands he could get started on his homework, maybe practice writing a little more with his left hand. His penmanship tended to get wobbly to the point of unreadable when the lesson moved more quickly and although Arms had - unrequested and unrequired, Katsuki might add - started making copies of the notes for him, he didn’t want to rely on them for weeks on end. Before Katsuki headed to his room however he made a quick stop by the kitchen. The whole incident with Izuku and the ordeal with Recovery Grandma had lasted well over lunchtime. He wasn’t hungry to the point that his stomach rumbled uncontrolled, but he could do with some rice crackers or an uncut apple. Just something to keep him afloat until his ordered dinner rolled around. Once he passed into the area though he grimaced. The place was a mess.  Used dishes and silverware laid by the sink, along with the empty pot of the rice cooker with some grains still sticking on its inside. Knowing the answer already, Katsuki pulled open the door of the dishwasher and - just as fucking expected - discovered it was full of clean dishes. It was probably Balls-for-Brains and Dunce Face who left it that way. Damn lazy asses. Grumbling Katsuki shrugged off his messenger’s bag and tossed it onto a clean spot on the counter before unloading the dishwasher, the ceramic clicking loudly and the cabinets slamming as he put everything away. The kitchen became something considered his domain once they moved in and when he knew it was cluttered, he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything anyway. Most from class respected his opinion and acted accordingly, but it seemed being a little worn down was enough to encourage the more rebellious ones into testing the boundaries anew. It took longer than usual, given he could only use one hand, but eventually Katsuki had the pot of the rice cooker drying on the sink and the reloaded dishwasher running. He couldn’t help a small smirk as he wiped down the counter with a rag, the sight of the squeaky clean kitchen doing wonders for his nerves. Satisfied, he eventually grabbed his bag, a bottle of water, and an apple as he resumed his plan of getting started on his homework. The trip to his floor was practised and short, the couple of stairs hardly enough to tire him out though his heartbeat slightly increased as he ascended. After finally unlocking the door and stepping inside he took a large bite from the apple, chewing as he dropped his bag onto the desk. He stuck the apple between his teeth as he rummaged through it, pulling out his journal and pen bag, followed by a few books and-Suddenly his fingers brushed over paper and when Katsuki pulled out the mystery object, he remembered the letter he found earlier in the classroom - the one written by Izuku and addressed to him. Up to that point, he had completely forgotten about it. Disregarding his earlier plans, Katsuki put the letter down on his desk. He quickly finished his apple, the core landing in his trashcan with ease before he started changing. The school-uniform was constricting, especially with his injured arm, and though it took a while Katsuki preferred switching into more comfortable clothes for the evening. He re-did the sling and loosened the cloth cast on his bad side; usually he left it entirely, but with the exhausting day, giving his arm a little more support would be good. Once he wore his simple slacks and plain shirt, he made himself comfortable on the desk chair and reached for the envelope. He thumbed it open, tearing a little at the seam, but once he reached the paper he stopped himself. Last year, Izuku had written a letter, too. And then he had left, without looking back. Katsuki couldn’t help the feeling of deja-vu, especially given the most recent happenings. What if Izuku had packed up his shit and vanished again, the guilt of his actions too much to bear? … No. That made no sense at all. The letter was already on the floor before it all began and Izuku had no chance to write it any time after. Whatever the content was, it couldn’t be a farewell. Drawing in a shaky breath - logic did little to squash down the lingering nervousness - Katsuki eventually pulled out the letter, swiftly unfolding it. The writing greeting him looked familiar, but also slightly off. Wobbly and light, as if the damn nerd had been hesitating as he wrote, and overall the paper was covered in smudges of graphite only sloppily erased. “Hah?!” Katsuki huffed at the letter with narrowed eyes. The thing seemed hella suspicious - especially considering the envelope had an odd, aged look to it. What had Izuku so preoccupied he scribbled so messily and held onto the damn letter for so long? Taking a deep breath, Katsuki finally began reading. The start was generic and unremarkable, making his stomach turn to knots as it sounded just like the one Izuku left that fateful April. But from the context, it became clear when exactly Izuku wrote it - Katsuki still remembered the tension on them all, as if the impending doom was inevitable despite their preparations. He had struggled with some shit himself, thoughts of frustration and worry and regret eating away at him. The quiet time in his room was spent clawing at his deep-rooted conviction and confidence, clinging on to them with all his might. Not only for himself - though they were a bunch of extras, Katsuki wasn’t blind to the way the rest of class A looked at him in dire times, when they sought to hear him declare how they were aiming for a perfect victory and he’d kick their asses if they so much as dared settling for anything less. Still, it was unusual for Izuku to go as far as making his own struggles tangible. Maybe that was why he took so long to deliver the letter? Because he was embarrassed about sharing his struggles and risking others offering their help to ease them? That would certainly track. The damn nerd probably didn’t plan to ever give him the letter in the first place and instead keep it around in his pocket like a sneaky idiot. Katsuki gritted his teeth as he kept reading, hissing in anger at the wording Izuku used - about how he didn’t want to risk dying with regrets, how he wanted to say what he wanted to say before it was too late. It was probably good he didn’t have the guts to give Katsuki the letter sooner; he’d fucking killed Izuku himself for the martyr shit he wrote on the paper. However, everything evaporated as he kept reading - in fact, his mind was wiped clean, the world faded away, and Katsuki was pretty sure his heart stopped beating for a second, too. And then, after what felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than a few blinks of his eyes, the alarm on his wrist blared alive for the second time that day. But it was more intense - his chest convulsing so hard Katsuki grabbed his shirt as he gasped, his breath coming in a wheeze. He was steadily getting more lightheaded, so much so his sight began to swim, and before consciously deciding for it he stumbled out of the chair and rolled onto the floor, laying down on his back as his heart beated almost violently inside him, as if it was trying to break out of his ribcage. … He must have read it wrong. It just- no way. No way.  There was no fucking way Izuku wrote ‘I love you’ in the letter he randomly picked up earlier. Clenching his eyes shut against the ache in his chest, Katsuki took hissing, flat breaths as a cocktail of hormones washed through his being. Adrenaline and endorphins and a shitton of cortisol, the mix so thick he could feel it rush in his veins. Maybe he had actually suffered a heart attack back in the classroom and died. That certainly seemed like a more realistic reason as to how he ended up with a love-letter written by Izuku and with him as the receiver. Panting Katsuki turned his head to the side, the blood rushing in his ears so loud he couldn’t even hear the alarm anymore. Despite laying on the floor he felt dizzy, his body shivering at the cold sweat breaking across his skin, and yet there was a warm, strong tug in his heart. And although he felt tears leak out of his eyes, Katsuki found himself chuckling breathlessly, the mix of pain and relief overwhelming him so much he could barely think. He had been so, so certain Izuku would never feel the same way - not after Katsuki hurt him so often for so long, not after Katsuki pushed him violently away, not after Katsuki spent most of his life detesting and looking down on him every chance he got. Not after Katsuki showed how, deep down, he was nothing but a bullying scumbag only able to hurt, hurt, hurt with words and hands. Undeserving and unforgivable. When he first realized his feelings for Deku were rooted in love and affection, it took only a couple of seconds for him to break down and cry, the weight of his actions- his crimes toward Izuku so crushing his knees actually gave out. And yet he had the physical proof lying on his desk that, despite it all, Izuku harbored love for him in that selfless, golden heart of his. He shouldn’t. Katsuki knew he deserved so much better - a partner who cherished and loved him, who treated him like a prince, fulfilling his every desire as soon as they read them from his eyes. Someone who would rather chop off their own hand and cut off their tongue than lash out and cause pain. Someone who didn’t fuck up every other time, someone who was redeemable. Someone who worshipped the ground he walked on, who’d spent their days adoring and doting on him.… Izuku deserved someone like Todoroki. The thought was like the stab of a knife to Katsuki’s heart, but he knew it to be true. He saw the way Icyhot looked at Izuku. Saw the pining and adoration in those mismatched eyes. However, Todoroki would never act on his feelings - not if Izuku didn’t want him to. He was the embodiment of self-restraint; Katsuki could count the times he lost his cool on one hand. He’d never snap and hit Izuku with his fists or words. He’d never be cruel to Izuku, no matter what happened. He was pure and gentle and his understanding and softness were bottomless. Todoroki was leagues better relationship-material than Katsuki could ever hope to be. And from the way Izuku acted around him, he’d been sure that if there would ever be anything romantic happening in Izuku’s life, it would be with Halfie. They’d be a pretty and wholesome couple that spend their days loving and appreciating each other in total harmony. And yet… and yet…! The rushing finally stopped in Katsuki’s ears, and once he noticed the total silence around himself he assumed his heart finally calmed down, too. When he tried to sit up, his entire body ached. His legs were tingling, as if the blood flow had stopped and only now resumed, and his clothes clung to his sweaty body like a second skin. Thankfully he’d been so cold he didn’t cause any explosions, though he better wiped up the sweat as soon as he could. He still felt a little dizzy, but somehow he still managed to get the super absorbent rag he kept on his nightstand and started to pad down the length of his arms and around his face and neck. What would really help was a shower, but he didn’t trust his legs to be steady enough for the trip just yet. … And he still hadn’t finished the letter. Again the alarm went off, but a quick glance at the watch showed Katsuki his heartbeat was only slightly raised. A sign of excitement more than anything. Breathing out until his stomach tensed, Katsuki inched closer to the desk. He decided to finish the letter on the floor rather than risk falling out of the chair again. When he first moved in he got himself a stylish, sweat-resistant yet comfortable rug for the space between his bed and desk; of course a chair would be more comfortable, but he could stick on the floor for a while before it got uncomfortable. Reaching up Katsuki felt around the desk until papers brushed his fingers and he retrieved the letter, his hand shaking a little as he brought it to his lap. His heart gave another throb when he re-read those fateful three words, a smile stretching across his face so much it hurt, however he swallowed hard and kept reading. Izuku had been struggling as he wrote - that much Katsuki could tell. His sentences sometimes didn’t make sense, words were jumbled and mixed up. Yet he pushed through, wrote down what he felt and what he thought, words of admiration, adoration, but also fear and insecurity. Izuku sold himself short, stated how ordinary and unremarkable he was - and for a moment Katsuki’s anger flared up with the urge to track down the dense idiot and shake some sense into him. … And, maybe, kiss him afterwards, too. “Shit,” Katsuki cursed, dropping the letter and instead covering his face with his hand, hiding away the blush as he bit his grinning lips. The thought was heady - always had been. But while it had been but a distant dream, a hazy idea, the knowledge that Izuku might welcome and even return the gesture made him high on endorphins. Damn. To think one could get fucking drunk on happiness… Taking a few calming breaths, Katsuki lowered his hand and grabbed the letter anew. It helped to know Izuku was grappling with his emotions as well. In fact, at the very end of the letter he stated he’d be waiting at the open space where the minefield had been during the sports festival, by the large tree next to the bench. If Katsuki felt the same way, he was welcome to join him there at eight p.m.. Of course, Katsuki knew Izuku wouldn’t be waiting there now. The letter had been written almost a year ago and he probably thought it was still in his possession. However, Katsuki could still make good use of that. Hand still slightly shaking and heart beating fast - though the alarm had quieted, so it wasn’t that bad - he felt around the desk once more. Soon enough he grabbed what he was looking for, and before long he opened up the contacts of his phone, ready to type out a message to Izuku. … But once his finger hovered over the keys, he hesitated. Just because Izuku had developed feelings for him, it didn’t mean getting together was the right thing for them. Or, rather, the healthy thing for them. Deku had the tendency to endure abuse in all forms until he eventually broke down, holding out his other cheek until it was bruised and bloody unless he had absolutely no other choice. And Katsuki? Katsuki was an asshole who, despite everything he tried, slipped back into his scumbag habits every now and then. He’d keep hurting Izuku left and right, subconsciously and consciously, his barbed tongue and strong feelings driving Izuku into a corner, pushing, pushing, pushing until it broke everything they had. The few good things Katsuki would be able to provide mere specks of light in a room shrouded in darkness. Not enough to sustain a relationship - a relationship Izuku deserved, that was. Katsuki was not a good enough man for him, and he doubted he’d ever be able to shape up to be. But Izuku - his stubborn, beloved Izuku - would still insist on holding on, turning a blind eye to the toxicity lurking so deep within Katsuki and ignoring how it infested him, hollowing him out and draining his energy until he had nothing left to give. But despite all the risks, all the red flags waving right into his face, Katsuki couldn’t turn out the weak, tiny voice in his head whispering, what if?  What if Izuku’s love and affection inspired and drove him to do better? What if them getting together didn’t end in disaster but rather gave them strength? What if he finally managed to change, because Izuku deserved only the best version of himself Katsuki could be for him? What if letting this chance slip by turned out to be the worst mistake of his life?His love for Izuku was strong, so strong that all Katsuki truly wanted was for him to be happy. And if Katsuki being in his life, if loving Katsuki was what he wanted, then who was he to deny Izuku? The selfish part of his heart throbbed, encouraged him, but the part of him where Izuku was the whole world agreed as well. Drawing in a breath, Katsuki focused every courageous fibre of his being into the tip of his finger as he quickly typed out his message.  After he hit send, Katsuki set his phone down and pushed it away, lest he backpedaled and deleted it again. … He’d done it. He’d basically told Izuku he knew about his feelings and, on top, was willing to lay his own heart bare for him once they met. After all the silent suffering, after all the yearning, after all the doubts and pain… he was going to confess. “Oh fuck,” Katsuki gasped, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes. “Holy shit…!”  There was still time before eight. Enough to freshen up - the cold sweat was still all over him -, maybe put on something a bit more fashionable. Something that showed Katsuki put thought into the meeting, that he cared enough about Izuku to put in the effort. So restless he almost felt giddy, Katsuki got up from the floor and headed to his wardrobe collecting a change of clothes before he grabbed his utility bag and headed to the bath on the ground floor. Thankfully, nobody was around to see his stupidly happy grin.  --- Standing up, Shoto wiped the sweat off his forehead, leaving a streak of dirt and dust in its wake. That day, they were sent to a desolated playground. The buildings and equipment didn’t stand a chance against the attack from the Liberation Army, and neither did the vegetation. With so many homes and buildings razed to the ground the city had its hands full already, let alone the funds were better used to improve the infrastructure and help the people in other ways. A playground had no purpose, didn’t contribute to the goal of giving the citizens a roof over their head or food in their stomachs. And yet Shoto felt truly accomplished as he looked around the area - saw the green bushes he helped plant, watched as the swing Ojiro and Kirishima fixed swayed gently to and fro, and a smile curled over his lips at the monkey gym they build under Iida’s careful plan and with Yaoyorozu’s materials. As they worked, some residents from the neighbourhood actually stopped by and offered them snacks and something to drink - thanking them for their work and claiming the kids would be truly overjoyed once they discovered the repaired playground. “The fights were gruesome and everyone was so scared… At least the children should be able to play and be a little carefree,” an elderly lady commented as Shoto ate the riceball she kindly offered him. Soon after All Might herded them back to the bus, still in their hero costumes. Working with the debris and fixing the area left them dirty and sweaty; it made little sense to change back into their school uniforms before they didn’t get a chance to clean off the filth first. For a moment, Shoto felt bad. He was covered in dust and dirt from working on the plants; there was bound to end some on the seats, inconveniencing the driver and the people from the bus provider. But then he remembered the vinyl used throughout the interior - sticky to the skin and easily to clean and wipe. It certainly made him feel better, though he still padded down as much as possible before he climbed on. As he waited, he grabbed his phone - and a small smile settled over his lips when he saw a notification about a new message.

So Midoriya found his things after all. It was good to know he made it back to the dorms at least. For a moment Shoto contemplated texting back. Asking how he was doing, maybe inquire about the grocery list he wrote in class. However after what he went through, he might already be in his room and resting. Shoto would hate to pull him out of sleep, especially for something he could always ask once they were back. The seats were quickly filled up and before long, they were heading back to U.A.. His classmates chatted animatedly and for the duration of the ride, Shoto simply leaned back and observed them. Some were tired, some were quiet… and others were purposefully chatting and starting conversations, though it came out forced. Shoto didn’t blame them; they all longed for the carefree lightness from their first year. Especially considering they were two people down. The trip was uneventful, and they were back on campus not too late after the seventh period. They collectively headed to their dorm building, even those who didn’t reside there anymore. The large baths were more convenient and they could all toss their hero clothes into the laundry together. It made sense - and their community was tight enough that they didn’t mind hanging up the costumes of those who went home, too. “Man, I’m beat,” Sero commented as they crossed the threshold of the dorms. He cracked his shoulders and shook out his arms with a sigh. “What you say, Roki? Wanna hit up the baths?” Shoto hummed, looking down at himself. He was pretty dirty… “Please make sure to drop your costumes in the laundry basket asap. We need to run the machines if we want them to be dried by the morrow!” Iida announced, his arm making a restless chopping motion as he spoke. Suddenly Mineta gave a dirty chuckle. “You heard the prez, girls,” he leered with a pervy grin, “I can collect your laundry for y-” Before he could finish, Asui struck him down with her tongue and Ashido sent him flying with a powerful kick. “I’ll take our laundry out,” Uraraka replied with a frown and a dry voice. The rest of the girls nodded silently before they collectively headed to the baths. “Ehrm,” Iida murmured before he cleared his throat. “Well! We should follow their example and wash up as well,” he encouraged the rest of the present boys. Some were already headed further into the dorms, splitting between the kitchen and the men’s bathroom. Kaminari though carefully approached Mineta - probably to check if he was still conscious. Shoto was still contemplating whether he should walk over, too. Even if depraved and perverted, Mineta was still one of his classmates, so he ought to worry about his well-being at least a little bit. However, before he could make up his mind Sero slung an arm around his shoulders and nudged him toward the bath. “Mineta’s a tough one,” he commented with a grin, “Take’s more to kill him. Let’s wash up and if he’s still laying around after, we can help him then.” That sounded like a solid enough plan, so Shoto merely hummed as he let himself be led away. Oddly enough, when they walked in the air was humid and the floor wet on some spots. “Huh,” Sero wondered, his arm slipping off Shoto’s shoulder. “Did someone already wash up?”Shoto headed to the shelf holding his toiletries as well as a change of clothes - after forgetting them and having to cross the hall one too many times with a mere towel around his hips, he always made sure to have at least some underwear and a shirt always at the ready - as he suggested, “Perhaps Midoriya or Bakugo already bathed.” “Hm. Good point.” With that, Sero approached the shelves as well. He, too, made it a habit to have some spares in the baths. Silence settled over them as they undressed, swiftly and efficiently, and they sat on stools next to each other as they soaped up and rinsed off the filth of the day. “Want me to wash your back, Roki?” Sero asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them. A few of the others had walked into the bath as well, filling the room with quiet white noise. “I’m good, thank you,” Shoto replied as he soaped up his hair. After working with the dirt, he deemed it necessary to wash his head thoroughly as well. “Alright,” Sero replied, and silence claimed them once more. However, it wasn’t the comfortable one from before. In fact, it felt nervous and strangely charged - enough for even Shoto to notice. And before long, Sero broke it again. “Soooo,” he drew as Shoto rinsed his hair with a shower head installed in the wall, “A letter, ey? Any idea who might have sent it?” Shaking the water off his head, Shoto mulled over the question. “No idea. I exchange letters with my mom, but she wouldn’t address me like that,” he replied as he got up. The cloth he kept at hand for modesty covered his crotch as he walked to the hot bath for a short soak. Sero was after him in a heartbeat, hissing slightly as he slipped into the water. “Woah, toasty!” he commented with a grin as he got settled, and Shoto was reminded how his classmates weren’t as resistant to the elements as himself. “But yeah, your mom wouldn’t call you Todoroki-kun. Or not put down the school’s address.” He stretched his arms over the edge of the tub as he leaned back with a sigh. “It ‘prolly came from campus.” His lips stretched into a wide grin. “Guess the girls were onto something with the love-letter theory,” he added with mischief in his eyes and a teasing undertone. Shoto sent ripples of frost over the hot surface of the water, watching the thin layer of ice almost instantly dissolve and break apart as soon as he lifted his finger. “Maybe. I’ve been told I’m popular with the first years.” Sero laughed heartily beside him. “Yeah, you could say that, I guess,” he chuckled. “Is there someone you’d wish it came from?” At that, Shoto paused - and when he pictured sparkling green eyes and a radiant smile, he felt his face feel warmer and the most delicate of smiles curl over his lips. “Oooooh,” Sero cooed, leaning right into his space with a wide grin. “There is, isn’t it? C’mon, you can tell your old pal.” But even before Shoto could reply, the warmth in his chest was replaced with coldness - because whenever he thought about Midoriya, a certain blond boy came to mind as well, like they were stuck at the hip. “I don’t think it’s mutual,” Shoto eventually replied. He drew in his legs, his hands coming to rest on top of his bent knees. “He’s got someone else already.” Sero didn’t comment, and that was when Shoto realized he had implied his special someone was a boy. That probably weirded Sero out; Shoto had grown up awfully sheltered, but the concept of sexual preferences was something he was also aware of, at least enough to know peers tended to act differently based on one's orientation. For instance, it was probably quite different if you sat naked next to a fellow boy who liked girls as opposed to one who was into boys. His lips pressed together tightly as he tried to think of the best approach to dissolve the weird situation, however before he came up with the right words Sero already loudly cleared his throat. “Honestly, don’t be too sure about that,” he stated. “You’re quite a catch, ‘Roki, even if your taste in manga needs some work.” A wet hand smacked down onto his shoulder. “Speaking of, wanna hit the town on Sunday? We can check out the bookstore.” “I can’t on Sunday,” Shoto replied, thinking about the hospital where Touya was kept. It was the only day he managed to make the trip without breaking curfew - and he’d rather avoid sleeping at home if he could help it. “But maybe Saturday after class?” “Sure thing.” The water splashed as Sero got up. “Aaah this was nice. Ima get dressed and then read a little in the common area,” he announced with a relaxed sigh. “Gotta catch up on my mangas before we go shopping.” Shoto just nodded, sinking a little deeper into the water. He, too, had something to read… and after what Sero said, he couldn’t help his heart fluttering with hope that the letter was, in fact, from Midoriya. And when he thought about it - it didn’t seem too unlikely. After all, Asui apparently found the letter earlier in the day. What if she stumbled upon it when she was outside and picked up Midoriya’s scattered supplies? If the envelope happened to land nearby, it might have even belonged to him in the first place. But could it really be…? Feeling restless and giddy, Shoto climbed out of the water and dried himself using his Quirk - saving time so he could quickly return to his things and finally read the letter. He heard Iida reprimand him for improper Quirk use, but all Shoto could spare him was a nod of his head as he threw on his clothes. The excitement was consuming him, and with every minute his treacherous heart beat a little faster, his fingers itching to open up the letter and finally read it. Of course, worry was nagging at him, too, and he figured he’d be greatly disappointed if the letter did not come from Midoriya. That was probably unfair toward the sender, too. However, for the time being, he wanted to hold onto the hope instead. Eventually he emerged from the bathroom and spotted Mineta up and about, so he headed straight for his schoolbag. After a moment of consideration he started for his room next, deciding he wanted to be alone while he read the letter. His classmates were nice and great, but also an awfully nosy bunch; he did mean it when he said he wanted to honor the sender’s thoughts and privacy, after all. He took the stairs quickly, already toeing out of his slippers even before he reached his dorm door, and he took a steadying breath as he pushed his hand into his bag in search of the envelope. Now came the moment of truth, he realized once he glanced at the ‘To Todoroki-kun’ flashing back at him. The noise of the paper tearing was loud as he got down into a seiza by the little middle table he procured. He put the envelope on top of it, neatly smoothing it down before he finally mustered up the courage to unfold the letter and start reading. And his eyes went huge when he recognized Midoriya's handwriting, albeit a bit sloppier than usual. “He really wrote it,” he whispered in disbelief. Hope soared higher in his chest, though he tried to keep a lid on his feelings anyway. Just from the start there was no telling what the letter was about - Midoriya had put down a generic greeting and wrote about the decisive battle from the war in the first few lines. It sounded like it had yet to happen… Shoto assumed, then, that he wrote it a good year ago. But then why… hadn’t he delivered it? Had he changed his mind? But then why would Midoriya still hold onto it? Shaking his head, Shoto dispelled his racing thoughts. It was no use losing himself in hypotheses when he still lacked information. At the very least, he should read through the entire letter before trying to find answers to his questions. Expression serious and focused, Shoto turned back to the papers in his hands and read through the sentences. From the penmanship, he could tell Midoriya had been upset as he wrote the letter. He’d used a pencil and erased several passages, sometimes multiple times, the faint lines still noticeable between the stronger graphite. He wrote about lingering worries and the threat looming over them like a malicious shadow, and Shoto’s heart ached for the obvious pain it brought to Midoriya. And then he gasped, for he unmistakably read ‘I love you’ in Midoriya’s wobbly handwriting, as if he’d been nervous as he brought the confession to paper. Shoto blinked several times, feeling his lips pull into a wide, happy smile the further he read. Midoriya had gone through the trouble of actually writing down the reasons for his affection - how he admired Shoto for his kind, gentle heart and his undoubted strength equally, how he fell for how he held himself and strived to become his own person, carving his own path instead of the one laid out by his environment. How he cared for Midoriya’s and everyone else’s opinion despite his own skills. But then he went on about how Shoto, being so incredibly amazing, would likely never feel the same way and reject his feelings, and Shoto found himself frowning. It always rubbed him the wrong way how Midoriya saw himself as worth less than all of them, self-degrading and condescending when it came to his ability to help. It made him blind to how amazing and radiant of a person he himself was, and while Shoto always tried to dispel those doubts in Midoriya, he vowed then and there he would try extra hard to do it now. Eventually he reached the end of the letter and read how Midoriya proposed a meeting by the clearing where they raced during the sports festival and a minefield was set up and, as Shoto remembered in awe, surpassed both him and Bakugo, by a large tree next to a bench at eight p.m.. Exhaling, Shoto put down the letter and rubbed a hand across his face. He felt overjoyed at the fact Midoriya was in love with him - but the doubts were festering in his mind with a speed that left him almost dizzy. Clearly he wrote the letter before the final battle against the Liberation Army. Before they headed out and Shoto took down his own brother in a horrid battle, and before Bakugo died at the hands of Shigaraki. So much had happened since the night before the battle… and yet the letter never found its way into Shoto’s hands. Given how much had happened, maybe Midoriya didn’t feel the same way anymore, and therefore never delivered the letter. It made sense, Shoto had to admit. From what he heard, Mirodiya had actually walked into the battle with Shigaraki and saw Bakugo’s corpse, learned he was killed for the sole purpose of getting a raise out of Midoriya and breaking his concentration. Watching the one you care about lay dead before your eyes and then being resurrected to fight by your side for the last push must have done things to Midoriya’s feelings - made him realize how he wanted to keep Bakugo close, take a leap of faith rather than risk losing him again. At least that is what Shoto would have done if he were in the same situation. Confess his feelings to Midoriya, consequences be damned in face of the chance of the happiness he could gain in return. And, against Bakugo, he stood no chance. Bakugo was passionate and energetic. He was a spark if not a blazing fire, igniting inspiration and warming the air so those around him could soar to the skies, boosted by the strong winds he created and the push of his hands against their backs. Compared to him, Shoto felt like a blocky rock. Slow and steadfast and unmoveable. Great to support others when they needed something to lean against, but doomed to slow them down and stay behind while they continued their trek into the future. He hesitated and held himself back for the sake of others - and for someone who needed a good push to move forward, like Midoriya, he’d only be good for a short rest and nothing more. … But if there was the sliver of a chance that, despite it all, Midoriya would still choose him…  Shoto’s hands curled into fists on top of his table. This was an opportunity that, if he let it slip past, would haunt him for the rest of his life. And so he grabbed his phone, opened the message thread he had with Midoriya, and quickly typed out a reply.

After he hit send, he threw on the long-sleeved jacket of their sportswear and headed to the place, despite being still much too early. … He’d need the time to calm down, lest he accidentally burned the forest down or froze the entire area in his nervousness.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Okay, this was getting ridiculous.

Gritting his teeth Katsuki ruffled his hair violently, bringing it back to its spiky default state.

Since he came from the bathroom he’d tried taming his hair into something cool and slick, or at the very least to brush it differently to bring across how willing he was to change – have a visual proof that, for Izuku, he was going to do his damnest to fix his bad habits and attitude. He never said what he didn’t mean, but he wanted to give him more than just his word, at least for this particular encounter.

However, his stubborn bangs weren’t having it, and he didn’t trust himself to handle scissors or a razor with his left hand, so in the end he scowled at his stupidly usual reflection instead.

What he

could

do, though, was apply a bit of lip balm. Nothing with color – just a film tasting a little like mango and which made his lips look a little glossier than normal. He had little hope to actually get far enough as to kiss, but... one could never be

too

prepared. And Izuku had the tendency to get swept along with the mood and his feelings, so he might end up so overjoyced he tackled Katsuki and claimed his lips in his rush of enthusiasm.

Clothes-wise, Katsuki ended up just as frustrated. He didn’t have any of his fancier and more fashionable attire; it was all back home in the huge walk-in wardrobe of his parents, pieces from their collections and stuff Katsuki got himself alike. At U.A., where he focused entirely on his goal of being the best, clothes were just a secondary thought. He had little more than a few shirts and tank-tops and comfortable pants. He’d have liked to groom himself a bit more, but in the end, there was only so much he could do with the selection he brought along.

Getting into the form-fitting jeans Demin-Man gifted him once was a bit difficult with only one hand, but somehow he managed anyway. He wiped down his sneakers, frowning at the sloppy laces, however decided against trying to re-do them one handed. As far as shirts went he opted for a nice, dark-blue tee that made his skin glow, and he slipped on two leather bracelets, one above and one below the watch, to add some accents to his look.

His inner perfectionist grumbled at what it saw, but there was little Katsuki could do given the circumstances.

Besides; they would probably end up talking a bunch, and if he looked too good the nerd would be in way too much awe and starstruck to follow the conversation. Katsuki planned to say quite some embarrassing shit, so repeating himself was pretty much out of the question.

Looking himself over in the mirror, he turned this way and that. He looked alright; clean, well-kept. The shirt was tight enough to bring out the swell of his biceps as well as trim waist without bringing

too

much attention to them. The sling was left on his desk, though he squeezed his arm into a compression sleeve for the time being. He couldn’t do much with his hand and arm, but at the very least, he wanted to be able to properly embrace Izuku if the chance came up.

Checking his watch, he realized it was barely after six p.m.. With almost two more hours to go, he decided to sit down and do his homework – to distract himself from the nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach and the clammy feeling on the palms of his hands.

It’s gonna be okay,

he told himself as he reached for a pen and flapped open his notebook.

Whatever’s gonna happen, you’ll get through it, no matter what.

---

The air was crips enough for Shoto to see his own breath once he arrived at the spot Midoriya described in his letter. In hindsight, it might have been smarter to grab his jacket as well, or at least a sweater; while the days were pleasantly warm, it was still pretty cold once the sun set.

Then again, the chill in the air was grounding... And if he

did

end up feeling cold, he could always use his Quirk to regulate his body temperature.

He took a seat on the bench, primly laying his hands in his lap and acknowledging the small smile still laying on his lips. Sero must have seen it, too, when he left; he’d called out to him as he headed for the door, wondering where he was going, and once Shoto replied he was about to meet someone outside a huge grin had settled over his face. Thankfully he didn’t comment, but the way he gave him a thumbs-up made Shoto avert his eyes anyway.

For a while he contemplated playing a game or browsing the internet on his phone, but the thought of anxiously checking his messages instead was unnerving. He was going to wait for Midoriya, whether he turned up or not. Making himself crazy because he didn’t receive a text back or Izuku left him on unread was pointless; he had to trust that his words reached the boy he was in love with.

... He’d probably stick around until nine or nine-thirty, at the very least, if Midoriya did in fact not show up. He was notoriously bad at checking his phone – but until then, he was bound to have at least

glanced

at the display at some point or another. The message had gone through, so his phone wasn’t broken or switched off.

It still felt unreal, to discover his feelings were, at some point in time, mutual. He’d wandered over in a daze, as if he was walking through a dream, however the folded letter in his pocket was unmistakingly real, the words written on the paper genuine.

Izuku Midoriya, the boy he admired so much, was in love with Shoto Todoroki.

Smile turning broader, Shoto bashfully hung his head and ran the tip of his shoe over the dirt ground. His chest felt warm with something soft and vulnerable, similar to what he felt when he was still a little kid and spent time with his mother, but then again so very different.

Sometimes, he imagined what it would be like to date someone – to date

Midoriya.

Shoto would try everything he could to make him smile his happy, radiant smile. He’d get him Katsudon from Lunch Rush and watch him stuff his cheeks like a cute bunny, his nose twitching as he dug in. He’d also get him flowers... Maybe single blooms, as small gifts, and definitely some bouquets as well. He’d need to check if he was allergic to anything first though. Then again, did Midoriya even

like

flowers?

What he’d definitely get for him was hero merch. His collection for All Might things was impressive and likely complete, but surely even a dedicated fan didn’t own every single piece from every pro hero out there. Surely Shoto could gift him with a few things... Maybe themed by Hawks? He seemed like a nice enough and cool guy.

Suddenly his smile fell and was replaced by a frown.

Definitely nothing from Endeavor. He may love Midoriya, but that was out of the question.

... Oh, who was he trying to fool? If Midoriya asked him to get him some Endeavor merch, Shoto wouldn’t hesitate for even a heartbeat. His love was stronger than his lingering resentment for the old bastard.

Tapping his fingers on top of his thighs, Shoto tilted his head back to look up at the clear, slowly darkening sky.

Maybe, if Midoriya was up for it, they could do some stargazing? And, maybe, when they sat side by side Shoto would be brave enough to reach out and hold his hand. He’d keep them warm with his Quirk, too, just so they could stay for a little bit longer.

... It could be a romantic first date for them.

---

It was quarter-to-eight when Katsuki left his dorm room, his hand sweaty when he locked his door. He’d packed his phone and the letter into the back pockets of his jeans, opting to leave his wallet behind. He doubted they’d end up going somewhere after the confession; if anything, Izuku would be worried about curfew given they were both officially residing in the Heights Alliance still, and he didn’t want to stress out the nerd even further than already. Knowing him, he was going to be a fidgety bundle of nerves – far more so than Katsuki himself, though he was mature enough to recognize he was pretty damn nervous, too.

However for the sake of Izuku, especially after what happened at noon in the classroom, he wanted to radiate as much calm as he could. He was determined to prove he could be what Izuku needed and reliably support him through high and low, no matter what life decided to throw at them next.

Hence he held his head high in confidence as he descended the stairs and headed for the front door – ignoring the extras he passed on his way out.

That is, until Racoon Eyes threw her arms around him, suddenly enough for Katsuki to almost blast her away in reflex.

“Damn it, Pinky!” he roared, “Wanna die?!” He pushed his good hand into her face, shoving her effectively away.

“Ouch, ouch, stop it, Blasty!” she returned, finally taking a step back. “I asked where you were going, dressed to the nines.

You’re

the one who ignored me! What else should I’ve done?”

Clicking his tongue, Katsuki snarled, “How about minding your own damn business.” He smoothed down the shirt on his shoulder with a disgusted curl of his lips. She was

lucky

she didn’t stain it, or he might have

actually

killed her.

Unfortunately, his behaviour only made her more invested – she had that annoying gleam in her eyes that spelled trouble like nothing else.

To make it worse, Tape Face had gotten up from the sofa and wandered over as well, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “Got

a date

or something, Bakugo?” he asked with a lilt to his voice.

Katsuki just glowered before flipping him off. “You both go fuck yourselves. Ain’t got time to entertain you damn extras,” he said, hunched over as he stalked away.

The way Tapeman had grinned and worded his question sounded awfully knowing. Had Izuku already left for the place? Trust him to get so worked up people would instantly hone in on him. Maybe he let slip he was heading out to meet up with someone and, for a change, the extra taped all three of his braincells together and figured them out.

Well, whatever. Not like Katsuki

wasn’t

going to properly and unmistakingly let his claim be known once they started dating. They’d all know Izuku was off-limits for advances of the romantic kind if they knew what was good for them. Hell, he’d probably end up having to throw fists with Pink Cheeks at one point or another. She was one of the few who’d actually square up to him, even if they had no chance of winning.

It used to give him solace, honestly. If Izuku ended up liking girls, he’d feel less troubled if Round Face wound up by his side rather than someone else. Her backbone was undoubtedly present and not too shabby, at least by his assessment.

Not like it mattered anymore though, he thought with a small smile laying over his lips. The letter in his pocket was the solid proof of where Izuku’s affections lay.

As he walked along the path, already illuminated by the streetlamps, Katsuki reached into his back pocket and pulled out the letter, carefully unfolding it between his fingers. He re-read the sentences, using the lines filled with raw emotion to remind himself he wasn’t the only one being vulnerable – and that the voice whispering disbelief and doubts into his ear could, and

should,

be ignored.

Still, his heart beat a little quicker as he followed the winding path, heading for the bench waiting at the end on the cusp of the former minefield. He kept his eyes firmly on the letter, the darkness spreading over the sky making it a little harder to read, though he probably should pack it away before he accidentally damaged it with his Quirk. This was too good of an opportunity to tease Izuku in the future-

“Bakugo?” a voice called – one Katsuki absolutely didn’t expect, however

instantly

recognized.

Stopping in his tracks he whipped his head up, eyes fixed in the direction where the noise came from in mild confusion. Even in the dark he could easily spot the form of a body sitting on the bench near the large tree, half of its hair bright enough to reflect some of the weak light around them while the other was partly swallowed by darkness.

“Icyhot?” he replied with squinted eyes. “The hell you doing here? Go find somewhere else to hang out!” he quickly added as he stomped closer. Izuku could show up any minute, and he absolutely didn’t want Halfie of all people there as a witness.

However the answer, spoken in that deep, annoying voice, made his stomach knot up with dread.

“I can’t,” Candycane said, “I’m waiting here for someone.” Mismatched eyes studied Katsuki’s face, but then dropped down to his hand – and slightly widened. “Is that... a letter?”

Feeling defensive, Katsuki quickly stuffed the paper into his pocket – and grimaced as he realized it made it all crumpled. “None of your Goddamn business,” he snarled, his teeth gritting as the whispering voice in his ear turned as loud as shouting.

His every thought wiped away, however, once Icyhot reached into the pocket of his sports-jacket – and produced a similar, nearly folded stack of paper. He held it loosely in his hand, his brows knitted, and for how stoic he was all the time, Katsuki could clearly read the mix of confusion and hurt on his face when their eyes met again.

“I got one, too,” Todoroki stated, tone a little weaker than usual, “From...” He trailed off, averting his eyes. “... Midoriya.”

Subconsciously Katsuki reached up, his hand trembling as he clenched it into his shirt when something as cold and sharp as an icy claw squeezed around his heart, its cracking resonating inside his head.

---

“Wah it’s cold...!” Izuku hissed as he jogged out of the gym building. Hound Dog had just recently come in and kicked him out, snarling about him already using it way past the hours anyway. Izuku didn’t even have time to shower or even change; he just rushed to the lockers, grabbed his duffel, and slinked out with an echoing ‘sorry!’. He appreciated Hound Dog’s work as the head of security, but oh boy, Izuku felt like he was treading on thin ice with him.

... Which, okay, fair. He did give the man a run for his money with all the times he got himself into trouble since he enrolled.

Now that his sweat was chilling in the evening air though, he regretted not having at least changed out his shirt or wiped himself down. It was practically clinging to him, drenched through in the three hours he tirelessly worked out. Goosebumps broke out across his skin during the short walk to the dorms, and once he passed the threshold he instantly made a beeline for the baths.

He waved at a few of his classmates, but before any of them could approach – like Iida and Yaoyorozu and Uraraka – he powerwalked to the men’s bathroom with his head held low.

Once inside, he released a sigh. He couldn’t run from the conversation forever, but after he finally got his head cleared a little during training he didn’t want to dive for the deep end again. Especially considering he had an appointment in the morning which would unearth anything and everything bothering him anyway.

Izuku frowned as he opened his duffel bag and realized his phone had died at some point. Hopefully he didn’t leave anyone worrying with his silence?

Great. Just more things on his list that needed fixing.

Before he cooled down too much, he stripped out of his drenched clothes and instantly headed to one of the washing spaces. He turned on the water from the showerhead installed in the wall and let the warm spray hit his face, the gentle pressure against his cheeks welcomed. The sensation was dulled where his scar ran down, but it was easy to ignore in favor of finally washing the grime off his body.

While usually he’d take his time in the bath, Izuku decided to only wash off with soap and then head to his room. He still had to do his homework and charge his phone, not to mention he skipped enough meals to feel hunger claw at his being. The appointment was still about twelve hours away; he could probably afford a larger Dinner without running risk of getting sick once they started. With the intensity he worked his muscles with he would hopefully manage to get some sleep, too.

His hair was still moist when he emerged from the bathroom again, a towel draped over his shoulders and the duffel swinging on the straps he held in his hand as he walked toward the stairs. He nodded his head at Ojiro when they met in the hallway, and though Izuku could see worry in his eyes, Ojiro thankfully didn’t rope him into a conversation.

He should have seen it coming. Besides Aizawa-sensei not showing up for the outing, a student ended up missing, too. Kacchan probably didn’t go with them either. If those weren’t clear signs something was amiss, then Izuku didn’t know

what

was.

Trying not to let the guilt get to him too badly, he stepped up to his door and unlocked it. A sigh escaped his lips as he fished his phone from the duffel and headed to his nightstand, plugging it into the charger.

Immediately his screen lit up and, after tapping in his pin and steeling himself, he opened up his messenger app.

Several names had an icon on them signaling a new message, but what made Izuku furrow his brow was the one from Kacchan.

They had exchanged numbers, but rarely ever texted since the new schoolyear began since Kacchan preferred to talk face-to-face when they were technically available. What could he possibly want to say?

When Izuku tapped on the icon and opened up the message, all blood drained from his face:

His phone slipped out of his slack hand, hitting the floor loudly. The noise was enough to tear Izuku out of his trance – and he scrambled to pick it back up, frantically re-reading the text.

Oh no. Oh God, please no...!

Whipping his head to the side, he zeroed in on his yellow backpack – and a heartbeat later he was already across the room, the contents spilling out onto the floor once he turned it upside-down. He’d moved so fast even the towel had slipped off his shoulders.

Once empty, Izuku threw the backpack carelessly away and dug through the books and journals and other odds and ends, searching for the envelope. He rapidly flapped through every textbook, shook out every journal, even returned to his backpack and checked all the other pockets again, but to no avail.

The love-letter with Kacchan’s name on it was gone.

And even worse, he realized with a sickening twist in his stomach, so was Todoroki-kuns.

In a heartbeat, Izuku leaped back to his phone, almost face-planting when he stumbled over the discarded towel, the device slipping out of his shaky fingers enough for him to growl, but on the third try he managed to open up the thread he had with Todoroki-kun.

“Oh no. Please no,

no...!”

he muttered to himself, suddenly feeling so dizzy he would have fallen to his knees if he wasn’t already.

They knew. They

knew

about his feelings.

Both

of them. His supposedly well-kept secrets were out, uncovered by his own stupidity. He should have burned the letters when he still had a chance, his own well-being be damned. Now they knew and once he spoke to them they’d hate him, detest him for the freak he was, and he had no way around it as they were already waiting for-

Oh fuck. Ooooh

shit.

They were waiting for him. At the bench by the large tree. At eight p.m., like he wrote down in his letters.

At. The. Same. Time.

Before being aware of it, Izuku was already by the window, tearing it open with enough force to threaten the hinges. Green lightning crackled around him as he went into Full Cowling, the Embers flaring in his soul as he jumped out and sailed through the night. He landed forcefully enough to leave a small indent in the ground, and he gritted his teeth in frustration as he could no longer use Float or Blackwhip to get around faster. Still he jumped and leaped across the campus, the wind howling past his ears at his speed, and he crossed the distance in under twenty seconds-

Even before he landed, Izuku already spotted them – two figures standing by the bench near the large tree, only slightly illuminated by the streetlamps.

He landed hard on the dirt path, the impact forceful enough to throw up dust around him. His legs and knees protested, shaking and tingling under the pressure, but Izuku ignored it in favor of looking up – and meeting Kacchan’s and Todoroki-kuns baffled expressions once they lowered their arms, having raised them to protect their faces from the sudden gale. 
  
---
  
Katsuki blinked the durst from his eyes – he had taken a split second to throw up his arm – but once his sight cleared, he leveled Izuku with a glare.

“Deku,”

he snarled, unable to soften his tone. Too much was going on and unclear for him to muster the strength to bother with anything else than the throbbing in his chest and the dread settling in the pit of his stomach. 
 
“Midoriya?” Shoto called out, voice low and weak as he still tried to parse through the situation. He was taken completely by surprise the moment he noticed Bakugo approaching, and his confusion only grew when he realized he had received a letter as well. Now that Midoriya had arrived, clearly surprised as well, Shoto found his assumptions confirmed: His letter was outdated and Midoriya’s feelings changed since the war.

However, instead of leaving the scene – which his body itched to do – he forced himself to stay. At the very least, he wanted to know

why

he got the letter if Midoriya no longer loved him. 
 
Izuku rightened himself, feeling lightheaded with panic as his wide eyes darted between the two. This was easily the worst outcome he could even think of... And he cursed himself for ignoring his phone and letting it die on him. If he had checked his messages literally any time between four and seven, he would have been able to at least prevent them from all meeting and instead try to gently explain the situation to them individually. 
 
Instead there they stood, Kacchan and Todoroki-kun looking hurt and uncomfortable, all because of him and him alone.

“Kacchan, Todoroki-“ he began, but before he could even finish the sentence he was already cut off. 
 
“What the hell is this, huh?!” Katsuki demanded with narrowed eyes and lips pulled back in a snarl. He clenched his good hand into the material of his shirt – of the nice shirt he put on specifically to-

Gritting his teeth he shook his head to dispel the senseless thoughts, turning his glare at Izuku. “Is this a prank? Are you for fucking

real,

Deku?!” 
 
“N-no!,” Izuku insisted, his entire body tensed. His hands started to flail as he added, “I- I mean, I didn’t

plan

to- I... I...!” 
 
Their reactions made Shoto arch his eyebrows as he became even more confused. Because, why would

Bakugo

ask if it was a prank? And sounding so genuinely offended, nonetheless. If anyone,

Shoto

was the brunt of the joke. Unless...? 
 
 “I knew t’was too good to be real,” Katsuki commented with a sneer, utterly bitter. He should have known he screwed up too hard too often for Izuku to love him as more than a friend, for Izuku to want to

be

with him. However, he figured Izuku would at least not be as cruel as to pour salt into his wound by having Icyhot present as well. Katsuki already felt like shit – he didn’t need even more on top.

Then again, on some level, he understood he deserved such a harsh treatment. All the years of bad karma had finally caught up to him – and the hurt he was feeling was probably just the mere beginning. 
 
“No, Kacchan! That’s not-“ Izuku cried out, his eyes tearing up at the utterly defeated look; Kacchan had dropped his shoulders and averted his eyes, his shirt wrinkling up at how hard his fingers clenched into it. His face was but a grimace, pained and so sad Izuku felt his heart break a little as well. He made a step forward with his hands up, reaching out- 
 
“Don’t you fucking

dare,

Deku!” Katsuki growled, the noise dark and rumbling and hurting his throat as the words forced themselves out of him. “Stay the hell away from me, or I swear I’ll fucking blast you all the way to the ocean,” he threatened, the anger in his heart slowly starting to overpower all other sensations. It always flueled him best; it made sense that he’d fall back into bad habits, lash out while he was hurting lest he got hurt even more.

... Just a few hours ago, he’d vowed to be better. Become a better man for Izuku.

What a fucking joke.

Then the heart-monitor attached to his wrist went off, the alarm cutting through the tensed silence mercilessly. 
 
Immediately Izuku went pale. “Kacchan,” he gasped, “Your heart...!” Again he took a step forward, almost stumbling as he watched Kacchan grip his shirt even tighter. 
 
“I said

stay the fuck away

from me, Izuku,” Katsuki snarled, his teeth gritting as his chest started to feel tight. Sweat was gathering on his skin, covering every exposed inch and even beneath his clothes. Eventually he let his shirt go, small explosions popping from his palm as his breathing got heavier. “Fuck,” he cursed, one eye pressing shut as the aching throb inside his chest intensified with each frantic beat. Was he getting a heart attack?

Now,

of all times? 
 
“Kacchan, please calm down,” Izuku pleaded, his raised hands shaking and eyes glazing over. Suddenly images flashed before his eyes, flicking into his vision – memories from the classroom earlier, memories of blood and rain-

“Kacchan, you

gotta

calm down... Please,

please

calm down...!” he begged, every muscle in his being tensing. “Recovery Girl- S-she’ll help! Let me take you to-“ 
 
“I told you to

stay

away!”

Katsuki roared, his anger spiking along with his arrhythmic heartbeat as explosions went off – however not from his palm, but the back of his neck. The sudden momentum made him lose his balance and stumble forward, and his heart throbbed again while the alarm kept blaring and blaring.

“Kacchan!”

Izuku shouted, instantly leaping toward him.

“Stay away!”

Katsuki

screamed,

whipping his palm up and letting a massive explosion lose. An

uncannily

massive explosion. His eyes widened as he felt how the sweat didn’t just go off in his palm, but his entire hand and also past his wrist. The impact squeezed his flesh and tendrons together, but thankfully didn’t crack any bones. It still hurt enough to knock the air from his lungs.

Izuku, however, wasn’t prepared to dodge - at least not so far away. A hiss escaped him when the blow scorched his arm and shoulder, though he instinctively rolled the rest of his body away in time. 
 
“Midoriya!” Shoto called, alarmed. He made to approach and help him up, already thinking about the best measures of first aid. In the back of his mind, he briefly wondered why the attack looked somewhat off compared to how Bakugo usually fought, but he was too focused on the situation at hand to waste any time pondering. 
 
Izuku sat up again almost as soon as he landed on the ground, the pain in his singed arm barely registering. “K-Kacchan, please,

please

calm down! I’m

begging

you, Kacchan!” he repeated, his breath coming much too fast as the alarm still blared through the area and bounced around inside his skull. “Please, your heart-

your heart-“

he pressed, desperate.

“Fuck

my heart!” Katsuki shouted back as he curled his arm against his chest. Both were buzzing with pain, but the ache in his soul was so much worse. “At least... Tell me

why!

Why send the letter

now,

when you wrote it back

then?!”

Instead of answering, Izuku took a step toward him, still muttering pleads and begs, and Katsuki tensed his entire body as tight as a coiled spring- 
 
“Stop, both of you!” Shoto shouted, his outburst so loud and sudden both whipped their heads toward him. He felt the heat increasing around his left temple and around his eye as a flame flickered to life while his right hand covered in frost all the way down to his elbow. “Stop, or I’ll freeze you two solid,” he threatened, his voice cold and unwavering although both of his hands trembled from how hard he was holding back. 
 
The alarm still sounded though, and its noise was enough to snap Izuku out of his stupor. “But Kacchan’s heart-“ he started, the panic flaring up again as he frantically thought of a way to do something,

anything,

to keep Kacchan from getting even more hurt.

“My heart’s pounding, too,”

Shoto snapped, cutting him off mid-sentence as his flame flickered more agitatedly around his face. “My heart’s pounding, too,” he repeated, voice a little softer, a little calmer, as he bowed his head. When he sighed, his breath was unusually foggy even in the cold evening-air. “That’s a... perfectly reasonable reaction to this situation,” he pressed out, forcing his body to relax and uncoil. He ran his left hand through his hair, extinguishing the flames around his temple and eye. The same hand then found a space on his chest, where he curled in his fingers and felt his chest thudding against his fist as his heart kept beating too hard in agitation.

He took a moment to briefly center himself, then looked up, his mismatched eyes searching until they locked with crimson ones. “I’m just as confused and shaken as you, Bakugo,” he said, watching as some of the tension bleed out of Bakugo, although his muscles remained coiled tight. And honestly, Shoto understood that sentiment so intimately he felt a strange sort of kinship with the explosive boy – something that went deeper than compassion for a friend.

It gave him the strength to steel himself as he turned his head until he could stare at Midoriya. “Explain. What’s the meaning behind this?” he asked, demanded, even, as he retrieved the letter from his pocket and held it up into Midoriya’s line of sight. 
 
It was then that Izuku’s tears finally spilled over, streaming down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered, rubbing his arm over his eyes to wipe the tears away, but more and more kept coming anyway. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry...!” 
 
“Quit apologizing,” Katsuki hissed, hesitating for a moment before plopping himself down on the path there and then. His legs crossed underneath him as he demonstratively looked away, eyes narrowing as he realized the damn dirt was going to get his nice jeans all dirty. Well. At least the demin was good quality so it would all wash out.

He brought his wrist up to his mouth, teeth digging into the band as he struggled to get the damn heart monitor off. The alarm went quiet as soon as it wasn’t connected to his skin anymore, just like earlier that day in the classroom. 
 
Following his example, Shoto pocketed the letter and lowered himself on the ground as he sat in a seiza, his fingers curled in as he rested his hands on top of his thighs. “Just explain it to us,” he said in a clipped tone, still trying to suppress his emotions. There was no point in dwelling in the deep ends of his anger and heartbreak and hurt if he didn’t know the whole story; he could always let his feelings loose once he heard Midoriya out and, hopefully, managed to make some sense in all of this mess. 
 
Izuku all but collapsed, his body curling in as he hiccuped and shook as hard as a leaf. “I- I didn’t mean to,” he gasped, his arms closing around his torso in a pathetic self-hug as he tried to speak through his heavy sobs. “Those le-letters, they... I n-never wa-wanted to s-send them...!” He shook his head, curled in so much his forehead nearly touched the ground, eyes squeezed shut as his chest hurt and constricted – the weight of his actions squeezing the air out of his lungs as he dry-heaved, suddenly feeling sick- 
 
“Calm down, Nerd,” Katsuki called from his spot a few meters away. “Just breathe.” He sucked in a breath extra loudly, held it for a few seconds, and exhaled just as noisily until the muscles in his abdomen tightened. Only then Katsuki repeated the motion, over and over, mimicking what Aizawa-sensei had done only hours before, although he couldn’t bring himself to close the distance to Izuku and lay his hand flat on his chest quite yet. 
 
Trying to follow the example, Izuku sucked in a breath – and ended up coughing violently. It was so bad one of his hands shot out and braced him against the ground, keeping him from keeling over entirely.

It was then that he felt a sudden chill, right at his fingertips. Turning his head enough to peek out toward his hand, he noticed a fissure of frost that went all the way to him, a small chunk of ice forming just within his reach.

Screwing together the last of his force, Izuku grabbed the piece of ice and brought it to the back of his neck, sending a shockwave through his own system. It helped ground him, enough to break out from the dizzying circle, and finally his breaths came deeper and calmer.

He knew he could only do it because of Kacchan’s and Todoroki-kun’s help, although they owed him

nothing

for what he had done.

Explaining the situation was the least he could do to repay their kindness.

After several minutes, Izuku finally managed to straighten himself until he was sitting upright on his knees, fingers digging into the cloth of his pants and he tried – and failed – to lift his head.

It was pathetic, and cowardly, but he couldn’t look them in the eyes as he quietly started explaining:

“I’ve... liked both of you. For a while.” His voice was weak as he spoke, just on the edge of breaking. “But whenever I tried to l-let you know, s-something held me back. The words... won’t come.” Hands clenching tighter, he worried his bottom lip as he braced for the next part. “I thought about the fight before us and... i-in case of the worst, I-I didn’t want to ha-have any regrets. I wanted to confess, but...!”

His voice gave out, and he swallowed hard around the lump in his throat as he forced himself to keep going.

“I wrote both letters. And I mean every word in them –

both

of them.

All

of them. I tried to decide who to talk to that way, b-but it was still imp-possible. Couldn’t decide. So I n-never s-sent them...” Finally he looked up, though he was terrified of what he’d see on their faces. However he couldn’t get a good read on them; Kacchan had his face turned away, staring at something in the far, and Todoroki-kun’s head was so inclined his hair obscured his features entirely safe for the hard set of his jaw.

“T-then Shigaraki-“ Izuku choked up, fresh tears springing to his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. “He- he came after K-Kac-chan because of

me

and I...!” His eyes slipped closed as fear dug its claws into his heart, making him shiver. “After that, I couldn’t tell you. What if a villain threatens the person I love? S-so I wanted to bury and forget my feelings. A-and it kinda worked.” He dropped his head until his chin rested against his breastbone. “B-but then, before the year started, w-we got our belongings back and I... I found the letters and...” A sob wretched its way out of his throat and he furiously rubbed his face and cleared his throat trying to regain at least some composure. “I wanted to keep them as a momento. B-because what I felt- what I

feel,

is real. I love Kacchan, and I love Todoroki-kun.” The tears kept streaming down his cheeks, but Izuku finally gave up trying to wipe them away. 
 
“So you meant to keep your feelings a secret,” Shoto concluded, speaking with an even, if quiet, voice. “The letters must have slipped out at noon, when you pushed your table away.” The timing would fit; just like he thought, Asui must have stumbled across the love-letter when she collected Midoriya’s belongings and, since it there was no sender, didn’t immediately assume it came from Midoriya and hence delivered it. If she had known, she’d surely returned it, respecting his feelings and privacy. 
 
Izuku nodded weakly. “I-I only saw the messages when I got to my room. M-my phone had died...” He trailed off, shrinking a little into himself in shame. 
 
Katsuki snorted quietly at the confession. “Forgot to charge it, huh? Stupid Deku.” He leaned back on his somewhat-good hand, eyeing the darkened sky as a wry smile curled over his lips. In the end, it was just a chain of coincidences that had all three of them sitting outside and freezing their asses off while their hearts broke. 
 
Feeling a blush spreading over his cheeks, Izuku fiddled with the edge of his shorts and stared down at his knees. “I’m really sorry. It was selfish to keep the letters, and it’s selfish that even now I can’t make up my mind, but...” He drew in a shaky breath. “Please believe that I

never wanted

to

hurt

you.

Either

of you. Kacchan and Todoroki-kun deserve only the best, but I... I still care

so much

about you both. So, please.” Lifting his head, he turned his teary gaze to them, his bottom lip wobbling as he pleaded,

“Please

don’t hate me...!”
 
Shoto couldn’t deny the painful throb in his chest at the sight. “Midoriya,” he whispered, resonating with the hurt displayed on the boyish, teary features just a few steps away. He’d give anything to take Midoriya’s pain away, or at least alleviate it, but he was at a loss at what to do. If there even

was

something he

could

do. 
 
In the end, it was Katsuki who broke the silence.

With a sigh he got up onto his feet. “I’m outta here,” he declared, turning half away as he stuck his hand into his pocket. “You two can lick each others’ wounds once I’m gone.” 
 
Izuku was halfway on his feet again, weakly calling, “N-no, Kacchan, please stay…!”

“I don’t care

about what

you

want, Deku,” he snapped back, though he kept his face carefully turned away from them. He couldn’t risk his bluff being seen for what it was, and if Izuku caught a glimpse of his expression, he’d know he was full of shit.

It was better this way. If Izuku

did

love both of them, then Todoroki was by far the better choice. He’d realize that eventually; Katsuki was just helping him along on the road of self-discovery.

Unfortunately though, he made the mistake of forgetting about the third party present. 
 
“If anyone should leave, then it should be me,” Shoto commented as he, too, slowly got up. He dusted off his shins and knees before straightening fully, his eyes landing on Bakugo’s stiff back. “You came here because you return Midoriya’s feelings, correct?” Bakugo pulled his shoulders up in a barely there flinch at his words. “I will not stand in your way. And I’m sorry for imposing on this important moment for you two-” 
 
“What the

fuck,

Icyhot?!” Katsuki cut him off, actually turning back far enough to glare daggers at the dense half-and-half bastard. “You don’t know

shit.

Maybe I came here to blast the damn Nerd into outta space for grossing me out!”

Internally, he winced at his own words - however Katsuki had to push through. 
 
“You’re right. I don’t know what you planned to do,” Shoto confirmed utterly calmly. “But what I know is what face you made when you came here.” His lips tipped up into a little smile, though his heart was bleeding. “And I know that Midoriya shines the brightest and smiles the happiest when he’s with you. Even I can tell you two are meant to be.” 
 
Katsuki clicked his tongue in frustration. “Are you fucking

blind?”

he asked, bracing himself for his next words - for yet another admission that cut so deep he could almost feel it physically. “All I can do is

hurt

Izuku. My first reaction was to

attack

when he tried to get closer to me.” The smile curling over his lips was crooked, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “You have never hurt him the way I did. You

would

never hurt him the way I

do.”

He had to dig his teeth into his bottom lip as he drew in a shaky breath. “You say he shines the brightest and is the happiest when he’s with me? Well, I’ve got news for you, Halfie; I’m a scumbag that told him he should kill himself when we were in middle school.”

The way he was keeping a close eye on Todoroki, he didn't miss the way he abruptly stiffened.

“It’s true,” he added, finally finding an angle. Even the ever-composed Candycane would be tempted into action if he pushed the right buttons. “Told him to take a swan dive from the school’s roof when he said he wanted to apply for U.A., and I’d say that wasn’t even the worst thing I ever did to him.” He cocked his head, studying the mismatched eyes staring unblinkingly at him. “I can tell you’d rather cut off your tongue than throw hateful words at him. So go ahead - bet you practised a fucking poem or some other romantic shit to swoon him anyway.” He pulled out his hand and waved it dismissively. “I’d never bother. He’s all yours.” 
 
Just as Shoto opened his mouth to retort, another voice spoke up. 
 
“Please stop, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered, voice fragile and endlessly tired. “There’s no need for you to act like a villain for my sake.”

“Deku-” Kacchan spoke up, but Izuku just shook his head.

“It’s true that you hurt me back then,” he admitted, “But I forgave you for it a long time ago. Actually, you probably just said that to discourage me from throwing myself out into danger without the means to fight back.” The smile laying over his lips was genuine, though the tears were still running down his cheeks. “Knowing you as I do now, you’re thinking you don’t deserve my love… while it’s

me

who doesn’t deserve

you.”

He turned his teary face to Todoroki-kun, seeing the pain in his eyes, the defeated way his shoulders had slumped. “And the same goes for you, Todoroki-kun. You’re so caring and amazing and I’m just-” He cut himself off, choking back the sob that threatened to slip out of him. Among the three of them, he was the least one who had the right to cry.

Despite him being indecisive and greedy, both of them tried to steer the situation so that he ended up with the apparent better partner. Kacchan did it with his barbed tongue and harsh words, and Todoroki-kun by purposefully taking a step back and fading into the background.

“I’m sorry for putting you two in this situation and forcing my feelings onto you,” he stated as he bowed to them. 
 
“... You don’t need to apologize, Midoriya,” Shoto gently replied. “I was very happy and flattered when I read your heartfelt letter. I’d never imagined you would harbor such feelings for me in the first place.” He drew in a breath he exhaled through his nose as he made up his mind. “But I can see how you look at Bakugo. All I want is for you to be happy… and I know he can make you.” 
 
“Stop selling yourself short, Icyhot,” Katsuki hissed, eyes closing against the budding headache. “The way you’re all soft and tender pisses me off as it is, and on top of that you’re a strong asshole, too. I’m not surprised Deku fell for you, and you’d be a fucking idiot to let him go this easily.” He clicked his tongue again. “Don’t pull some martyr shit and just love him the way he deserves.” 
 
For a moment, Shoto let the words sink in - and internally sighed at the sheer stubbornness both Bakugo and Midoriya were displaying. As usual, they were utterly unreasonable in regards to each other. Denying their connection kicking and screaming, just like they did all the way back in first year. But then again, the way Midoriya spoke about his feelings sounded genuine, as if he truly

didn’t know

what his heart desired deep down-

Suddenly, an idea popped up in his mind.

“Why don’t we just… try it?” he proposed. Once equally confused pairs of emerald green and ruby red eyes settled on him, he elaborated, “All I want is for Midoriya to find happiness, and I think you share the sentiment, Bakugo.” He watched as the blond boy scoffed and stared at the ground, however didn’t deny it. Turning his gaze solely on Midoriya, he explained, “Maybe you will know who you want to truly be with once we dated.” 
 
Izuku shook his head, so much his locks bounced. “That- that’s not something I can do! I can’t just -

try

you out! That’s not fair!” 
 
“But you ending up sad and alone is?” Katsuki challenged without any heat. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, but I…” He trailed off, squaring his shoulders as he decided to say what needed saying. “I want you happy, too. No matter with whom. Hate to say it, but Icyhot might be onto something.” 
 
“What are you

saying?!”

Izuku cried out, “I can’t just- take advantage of you like that!” His hands shook, eyes flicking between Kacchan and Todoroki-kun so fast it made him a little dizzy. “I don’t want you to be hurt just because I can’t make up my mind!” 
 
“If it ends in heartbreak, it’s on us,” Katsuki replied, simple and calm. “I’m in, Halfie.” 
 
“Good we are in agreement,” Shoto stated and clapped his hands. “For a true comparison, we should consider dating simultaneously, lest Midoriya’s guilt affects his decision. We should take some time and think about some things and which rules to set up. Communication is key for this to work out.” 
 
Appalled, Izuku flailed his arms. “You- you can’t just

decide

that! Not without asking me, too!”

The way both of them gave flat, unimpressed looks made Izuku shrink into himself.

“You’re not bullshitting your way out of this, Deku,” Kacchan stated.

“Agreed,” Todoroki-kun added. “Neither of us will believe you if you said you don’t want to date either of us now.” His eyes lit up a little as he turned toward Kacchan. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Bakugo. Perhaps this will even deepen our friendship?”

As expected, Kacchan immediately bristled and barked, “We ain’t friends, asshole, so cut the crap!”

Feeling his knees wobble, Izuku crouched down and took his head in his hands. He doubted he could change their mind, however he couldn’t just…

comply

without a fight either.

Damit. If

only

the cursed box with his belongings was destroyed during the war…

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Here, Midoriya,” a voice suddenly said, prompting Izuku to tilt his head back far enough to look up. He came face to face with Todoroki-kun’s concerned face – and with a handful of cloth. “You must be cold?” he added, though it sounded more like a question.

Oh. He was offering his sports-jacket.

“I’m okay,” Izuku insisted, hanging his head down again. He still had his hands wrapped around it, least his entire skull combusted from the sheer speed his thoughts were running with inside.

“Your hair is still damp. If you don’t cover, you might end up with a stiff neck,” Todoroki-kun reasoned with a calm, gentle tone. “Please take it.”

In the face of so much earnest kindness and consideration, Izuku caved and grabbed the cloth. He wrapped it around his shoulders like a cape though rather than putting it on properly. Still, there was no mistaking the warmth that seeped from the jacket into his being.

Worried still, Shoto studied Midoriya with furrowed brows. He’d expected him to be upset by the proposal, but it didn’t mean he particularly

enjoyed

the view. “How’s your arm? Do you need me to cool it?” he asked, hoping to coax Midoriya into a conversation rather than letting him stew in his thoughts.

“It’s fine,” Midoriya insisted in a clipped tone.

At that, Shoto was ready to let him be, even though he was very clearly neither okay nor fine or anything else. He was not the type to press people – given he himself had been oppressed for nearly all his life. It felt...

wrong

to push on if the other party was so very clearly uncomfortable about it.

However, just as he was about to get up, another voice growled, “Stop being an idiot, Deku. How should we fix anything if you ain’t telling us, huh?”

A wet, humorless chuckle escaped Izuku. “Not like it matters

what

I want,” he snarked, uncharacteristically sarcastic even for his own standards. In fact, his skin itched at how he was behaving, but he couldn’t help it. Kacchan always managed to pin-point the ugliest part of him and prodded it on and on and

on

until he snapped.

However, Izuku was

done

being his punching bag that only took whatever he deigned worth dishing out at the moment. Hence he tilted his head back, green eyes fiercely glaring up at frustratingly unimpressed crimson ones.

At the sight, Katsuki heaved a sigh. “Listen, let’s – just not. Icyhot said we should think about this,” he paused, grimacing as he worked his jaw in search of the right term. “This

arrangement

and establish some rules. How ‘bout you stop being a brat and write one of your notebooks about it or something, and we can go through it when we meet again.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say – if the way Izuku tensed was any indication.

“Don’t ridicule me, Kacchan. Not

now,”

he growled, every syllable dripping with anger. “I can’t have you make fun of me

now

of all times. Not when I...” He trailed off, new tears springing into his eyes, and Katsuki very nearly kicked himself for letting his barbed tongue get the better of him again.

Sensing how the tension was, once again, rising, Shoto cleared his throat and stated, “I’m sure Bakugo didn’t mean it that way.” Once angry green eyes jumped to him, he explained, “Of course your wishes and wants matter and are valid, too, Midoriya. Just – it has been an eventful day for all of us. Maybe it’s best to stop until we managed to calm down a little.” He held out his hand, eyes never leaving Midoriya’s. “Let’s go back to the dorms for now.”

Thankfully, Midoriya grabbed his hand, and they both rose to their feet again. Shoto squeezed back in what he hoped was reassuring before letting go, and his heart twinged at how...

easily

their hands slipped apart.

Then again, even he could recognize how much pressure they put onto Midoriya, how far they drove him into a corner. No surprise he’d retire under those circumstances.

Being so focused on Todoroki-kun, Izuku all but flinched when a hand was suddenly thrust into his line of sight. He even gave a surprised squeak, eyes darting to the hand – and brows furrowing when he recognized a watch on top of the palm.

“It’s hard to put on on my own,” Kacchan mumbled with averted eyes.

For a moment, Izuku paused. However then a small, tentative smile curled over his lips as he took the wristband and gently and carefully fastened it around Kacchan’s offered wrist. A breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slipped past his lips when the screen lip up, showing a steady heartbeat that, while a little higher than average, was in the completely average range.

Kacchan’s heart was

okay.

Beating steady and reliably inside his chest.

“Thanks,” Kacchan whispered as he pulled his wrist away, Izuku’s fingers slipping off his skin.

“... Any time, Kacchan,” he quietly replied. And he meant it full heartedly, too; if Kacchan asked for his help, even for such a mundane little gesture, he’d give it without hesitation.

... Although, he couldn’t help feeling like it was mostly meant as a gesture from Kacchan – a means for him to, subtly, check for himself that his heart was fine and well for the time being.

“I’m heading back. It’s fucking freezing,” Katsuki stated as he turned toward the path he came from. He glared down at his wrist, as if

daring

his heart to act up after Izuku’s casual but strangely intimate touch and the lingering stress.

“Bakugo’s right. It’s really getting cold,” Icyhot, completely unnecessarily, confirmed, making him roll his eyes. Having to spend more time in his company, Katsuki really got his work cut out for himself, especially considering he was supposed to avoid stressful circumstances until he was fully recovered.

But as he still felt the phantom touch of rough fingers on his wrist, he knew why he was going to see it through anyway.

If it meant Izuku could discover what truly brought him happiness... he was willing to put up with anything. Even if that meant a future where they weren’t romantically involved.

---

Once Height Alliance was within sight, Izuku parted ways with Kacchan and Todoroki-kun after returning the jacket to instead go around the back. Probably nobody noticed he’d slipped out – and he’d rather keep it that way for the time being.

When his feet touched the floor of his room and he slipped the window shut, he allowed himself to finally deflate – and rested his forehead against the glass as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes again.

He didn’t even know

why

he was crying. He’d always been very in touch with his feelings, especially those that made him tear up, but as things were he simply had too much going on to properly dissect what exactly brought them out.

For a fleeting moment, he considered calling Aizawa-sensei. He’d said Izuku should reach out if he felt himself slipping, and the way his eye had sternly stared him down, Izuku knew he meant the offer stood regardless of the time of day. However, what was he supposed to tell him? That he got into a fight with Kacchan and Todoroki-kun over his unrequired but still somewhat reciprocated romantic feelings that also got somewhat physical at one point? Not to mention that they apparently decided to –

what

exactly, anyway?

It certainly didn’t feel like ‘dating’ was the correct phrasing. It was more like some sort of trial-phase which he did absolutely not care for.

... Mostly, at least. A small, treacherous part of his heart was elated that he got to taste what it felt like to

be

with Kacchan and Todoroki-kun, even if it was for only a short time. Because, if one thing Izuku knew, he’d push them away in the end. He just needed to brave through the period it would take until those two would actually believe him when he said he didn’t want to date either of them.

“Damn it all,” he hissed at his bleary reflection in the dark glass of his window.

Knowing sleep would elude him, Izuku eventually dragged himself away and toward his desk. He still had some schoolwork to do – and a rather exhausting meeting in the morning.

... Not to mention jotting down some points for the

arrangement

would be good, too. If only to show them just what a piece of work he was and to establish he was not just going to sit there and let them do as they pleased.

---

The jacket was still warm in Shoto’s hand as he watched Midoriya walk away, heading toward the back of the dorm building. His head was once again filled with thoughts; should he have gone with him? Midoriya seemed clearly affected by everything and he was worried for the slight burn on his arm, not to mention he actually wanted to check in how he was doing after the panic attack around noon.

... And the second one just minutes before.

Had he made the right choice by proposing to date?

Midoriya had been undoubtedly upset, especially when they didn’t even consider his opinion on the matter. Though, given how charged the situation was, Shoto highly doubted something productive might have resulted from it if they had actually started unpacking their feelings entirely. Hell, he considered himself

blessed

that Bakugo and Midoriya didn’t erupt into a full-blown fight then and there.

At least he managed to convince them to step back for the time being. And as their heads collectively cooled off, he could do some research about romantic relationships and how to navigate them. Asking the classmates he was closer with felt somewhat wrong; Midoriya was clearly secretive about his feelings and, while it hurt, Shoto could understand his wish for privacy. And confining with Bakugo would probably... not be as fruitful as he’d need.

Frowning, he pressed his lips together. He knew it’d be tough, however he couldn’t shake the feeling it was made more complicated and harder than it ought to be.

Still – he’d see this through and take responsibility for bringing it up in the first place. And if Midoriya being happy was at the end of the road, he’d walk it with no regrets... even if their paths would eventually split.

The noise of steps snapped him out of his thoughts, his eyes landing on Bakugo as he resumed his walk.

Picking up his speed, Shoto quickly closed the distance between them. “How’s your arm?” he asked, peeking down at his supposedly ‘good’ arm.

Bakugo huffed, his next step slightly angled so they were suddenly walking further apart.

“That explosion from before was wider than usual,” he commented, trying a more passive angle. Then, as a thought crossed his mind, he asked, “Was it because of what happened at noon? Did I damage your palm by any cha-“

“Stop it,” Bakugo snapped, voice cold yet leveled.

Taken a little off guard, Shoto actually stopped walking. “What do you mean?” he asked, head slightly cocked in genuine confusion. It wasn’t new that Bakugo got annoyed at him, though he wondered

what

exactly set him off this time around.

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to ask – because in the blink of an eye, Bakugo had whirled around and stepped closer with his lips pulled back in a menacing snarl. “Just because I somewhat agreed with you back then doesn’t mean you get to be all

chummy

with me, Half-‘n-Half. So stop checking in with, or asking, or

fucking talking

to me.” His red eyes were narrowed in a glare, and Shoto could have sworn they flashed orange for a moment, too. “I’m only around until you two idiots get your heads out of your asses. I don’t want anything to do with

you,

so fucking

can it.”

And with that, Bakugo sniffed, snorting like an angry animal as he did, and finally stomped away with his back hunched slightly as he prowled.

Once he was a safe distance away, Shoto allowed himself to sigh heavily and hang his shoulders. Well, seemed like his estimation of confining with Bakugo not working out proved itself correct, if nothing else.

... Though, he couldn’t help the way his heart skipped a beat at his words. At what they

implied.

Because, Bakugo seemed to think the two of them were

a match.

Why else would he have highlighted Shoto’s, apparently, good qualities back at the clearing? Why else would he wait until they ‘got their heads out of their asses’?

And since Bakugo was honest, painfully so, Shoto knew he didn’t say those things just to stroke their egos. If he didn’t believe they could make a relationship work, he certainly wouldn’t encourage them to try, even in that abrasive way of his.

Curling his fingers into a fist, Shoto brought it up and rested it against his chest as determination flared up in his heart. He wasn’t going to let them down – neither Midoriya, nor Bakugo.

As soon as he got to the dorms, he was going to eat a quick meal and then head straight for his room. And once he finished up his homework, he was going to dive into his research in earnest, as well as sketch out what rules he wanted to establish for the time being. If he was thorough enough, he might even be able to offer the others some advice or tips on working out their own goals.

He had his work cut out for himself... but for the first time since he proposed the arrangement, Shoto had a feeling that it might just work out.

---

Katsuki stomped through the entrance and straight for the stairs, and thanks to some miracle, the extras kept their distance instead of swarming him with their nosy questions.

... Or, maybe, they actually sensed he didn’t want to be approached and respected his wishes for a change.

Either way, Katsuki reached his room fairly quickly, and as soon as he crossed the threshold he slammed the door shut loud enough to be heard across the floor and maybe even beyond.

And once he was alone... he sunk down into a crouch, his throbbing arm coming up and cradling his head as silent tears of utter frustration ran down his cheeks. Thank fuck he hadn’t started crying when he was with company like some emotional wimp; Deku would have lost it completely, and he refused to show weakness in front of Icyhot of all people. The idiot couldn’t take a hint and would blab in front of everyone if given the chance.

“… Fuck,” he cursed quietly to himself. If he had any hope of seeing this mess through he got himself into, he needed to toughen up. And also work on his Quirk control. Badly.

Very,

very

badly.

“Fuck!” he repeated, louder. He’d already almost hurt Izuku when all he wanted was to give a physical warning – there was no telling how severe his explosions would get if he truly meant to attack. Not to mention he very nearly cracked his own damn bones by the weirdly directed recoil, too. Given he basically signed himself up to spending time with Halfie and Deku for the foreseeable future, his nerves were certainly going to be excessively tested by their sheer stupidity and clumsy fumbling.

Damn it. He should have never ever fucking read the letter or texted Izuku afterwards. What he

should

have done is stick to the hard facts – that he was bad for Izuku, more and more the closer they got. They worked best at the rivalry slash somewhat friendship level they stood at, and he should have beaten and killed his more romantic feelings until they

stayed fucking dead-

Suddenly there was a knock at his door, making Katsuki flinch so hard he lost his balance and landed on his knees. “What?!” he demanded, so loudly his voice echoed through his room. “I swear to God, if it’s

you,

Icyhot-“

“It’s not,” came the muffled, calm reply through the door. “This is Shouji. I have the notes of today’s class for you.”

Gritting his teeth, Katsuki got up, quickly wiped his arm over his face, and swung the door open. He openly glared up at their resident Octopus, not even bothering to hide his annoyance.

“How often do I have to say it ‘till you fucking

get it,

Arms?!” he asked – demanded, really. “I don’t need

or

want you to write notes for me! I can do it by myself!”

Unfortunately, word got around that he was more bark than bite, hence his threat left the boy in front of him frustratingly unfazed. “I can’t retract my arms, so I might as well use my hands,” he replied, still calm and matter-of-fact. All he did was flick his wrist once to make the stack of papers in his hand rustle. “It’s also a good way for me to practice my dexterity with my not-prominent limbs.”

Katsuki huffed, however eventually snatched the stack with a snarl. “Don’t think I owe you for this. I’m only taking them before you’d send Glasses to harass me,” he growled, making sure his glare was more piercing.

Wouldn’t be the first time the extras sent the prez after him; when the new schoolyear began, they unanimously re-elected their class-representants and as soon as they were in charge they discussed ways of helping their still recovering peers. Arms copying what they wrote in class for Katsuki was one of the measures they decided on, just like Dunce Face sometimes cued Ears with written notes whenever her injury flared up and she couldn’t hear. And since the idiots were persistent, they ignored Katsuki’s protests… And once Glasses started lecturing him in that obnoxious, severely annoying way of his

several times a day,

he finally caved just to get a damn break.

Arms gave him a simple nod, his empty hand dropping again. “Alright then. Good night, Bakugo,” he stated as he turned away. Katsuki only huffed, unwilling to deign him with a response – although he closed his door again much softer than before.

Sighing, he crossed his room and dropped the papers onto his desk. Usually he sorted them right away, but after the day he’d had, he only wanted to fall into bed.

… He still had to get out of his ‘nice’ clothes though, he realized with a frown. At the very least the jeans and the compression sleeve had to go so he could get some proper rest.

That is, if he even managed to sleep in the first place.

Feeling drained and somewhat defeated, Katsuki slumped to his bed and fell face first into it, groaning a low and dragged-out ‘fuck’ into the comforter.

---

Shoto had never been much of a morning person.

Back at home, his bastard father made it a habit of kicking him out of his futon even before dawn, forcing him to train before he left to work at his agency. And after the incident with his mom, Shoto purposefully stayed in bed as long as possible, even if the physical strain after became all the harsher.

Once he enrolled at U.A. however he followed the rules to a T, if only because it pissed Endeavor off how he respected literally every other authority but the Flaming Hero himself. That meant Shoto dragged himself out of bed at a reasonable time, even if he was dead on his feet as he padded into the kitchen with squinted eyes and a frown.

After doing his homework, he’d spend a good chunk of the night researching online. He came across quite a couple of rabbit holes, the topics as intricate as they were intriguing, and before he knew it the clock had ticked past midnight. Shoto only realized that because his stomach rumbled, protesting after he’d barely had a snack before disappearing into his dorm room.

And then he’d run into Yaoyorozu downstairs, shadows under her red-rimmed eyes, and he spent a while silently keeping her company while they left the TV in a music channel in a low volume as their tea steeped. And then they drank it, followed by a couple more cups.

In short, he was slightly sleep-deprived and grouchy because of that. At least he managed to make a bit of headway in his research and he managed to support a friend in times of need. Those were good reasons for him to lose sleep over as opposed to the times he laid awake brewing in his disdain for his father.

He was silently staring at the counter, trying to wake up enough to function, when a mug was placed down in line of his sight. “Looks like you’d need one,” Sero commented, quiet but with an amused lilt to his voice.

Shoto huffed – which wasn’t much more than a loud exhale through his nose – and curled his fingers around the warm cup. As Sero snickered, he brought the edge to his lips and took a sip… and his face scrunched up a little at the bitter taste filling his mouth.

Sero was laughing, the noise fond rather than condescending, as Shoto forced himself to gulp down another mouthful. He tasted a little sugar in the coffee, along with a splash of milk, however it was still much too bitter for his palate. The drink brought the desired effect though; the dark brew had him instantly perk up, the crass taste chasing the sleepiness out so fast he gave a full bodied shiver.

“… How you doin’, ‘Roki?” Sero suddenly asked – his voice pitched low and serious, so much so Shoto looked over.

He blinked slowly, clearly confused. “I’m okay,” he replied, “Just a bit tired.” One of his eyebrows arched up as Sero averted his eyes, one of his hands scratching the back of his neck almost… nervously?

“… Well. If you say so,” came his quiet answer. “Just… Listen, it’s not like I have

experience,

but if you wanna talk? Know I’ll always lend you an ear.”

“I don’t think I understand,” Shoto stated with furrowed brows. Something was clearly amiss; Sero was confident and cocksure most of the time. For him to act so – oddly, there had to be a grave reason. However, Shoto wasn’t adept enough in social matters to properly read between lines, at least most of the time.

Thankfully, Sero seemed to understand – although he hissed and shifted on the spot, as if the words were hard to bring out.

Eventually though he heaved a sigh and simply said, “Thing is, I saw him leave last evening… and also how he came back. Judging from how he acted, your-“ he looked around quickly, as if he was making sure they were alone, “meeting with

the author

didn’t go so well, did it?.”

Subconsciously, Shoto went stiff. “You… know?” he asked in a whisper.

Again Sero sighed. “I wasn’t trying to snoop. Just happened to be around when he passed through,” he was quick to reassure, “And I won’t tell anyone. But since we’re buddies, I wanted to let you know I’d be there for you.”

A small, tentative smile curled over Shoto’s lips. “Thank you,” he said, sincerely. A little of the weight on his shoulders lifted at the thought that he had a friend who cared enough about him to offer his support. And since Sero was very curious despite his respect for other people’s privacy, Shoto figured he could entertain him with a few details. Surely, Midoriya would forgive him for that. “It could have gone better,” he quietly admitted, “But we’re working it out. Maybe I still got a chance with him.”

Much as expected, a wide grin settled over Sero’s mouth and his dark eyes glinted with clear interest. “Fingers crossed, ‘Roki,” he replied and offered a thumbs up. “Though, man, you certainly have a taste. Not gonna lie... I didn’t see

that

coming.”

Shoto simply hummed; though he

did

wonder what exactly Sero meant, he was still too tired to bother asking. Besides, he still had to get some breakfast and get ready for class – maybe even take a cold shower to properly shake himself awake. Even if he was half-immune to the chilly bite, it certainly would help shake some of the sleepiness away, and the last thing he wanted to risk was dozing off mid-lecture.

---

U.A. was really... quiet so early in the morning.

Katsuki could hear the occasional footsteps and noises when he passed by some of the classrooms, but the overall feel was calm and peaceful. As if the entire school was still asleep.

He’d left the dorms even before Glasses that day. They’d seen each other at breakfast, and although Prez’s entire body

screamed

how curious he was, he thankfully kept his mouth shut and left Katsuki alone.

As he walked through the empty corridors, Katsuki let his eyes wander – seeing the deserted inner ground of the school and the lush green trees lining the perimeter. They must have gotten someone with some sort of plant-based Quirk to help with the rebuilding; Katsuki clearly remembered the devastation left in the wake of their fight against Nutsack-face high in the sky. Looking at the school grounds now however, not a single trace of the disastrous battle remained.

For a moment, Katsuki wondered if they had replaced the earth, too, or if his blood was still soaked deep in the dirt.

Exhaling through his nose, he turned his head and continued his stroll. His chest felt heavy and his arm throbbed dully in pain, but as per Recovery Grandma’s order he hadn’t taken his meds yet. She wanted to double-check what he took before she offered an alternative against the ache, lest they missed something and he suffered from unpredicted side-effects.

However, given how silent the school was around him, who knew if she’d even be in her little office already.

He had just rounded the corner to the appropriate floor when he spotted her – humming a little tune as she leaned her cane against the wall to unlock the door, her other hand busy holding a pink cup with a red cross and a pair of lips printed on the side.

Katsuki couldn’t help the snort. Was that a piece of her merch or something custom made?

... If it was merch, it might be worth looking into it. He doubted Izuku owned such a mug and given he was still a hopeless fanboy it might make a good gift.

“Ah, Bakugo!” she suddenly called, “Good morning! Please, do come in.”

Katsuki nodded in greeting and silently followed her into the office. Once he stood by the desk he stuck his good hand into his pocket and pulled out three lines of blister-packages, laying them down with the back up so the names were visible.

In a moment, Granny hobbled onto her chair and leaned over the pills, mumbling something. “Yeah. I think I got just the thing,” she said with a nod, then reached over to grab a box of medicine. “Take one about every six hours with lots of water. You can also safely take them at the same time as the other pills, though it doesn’t require you to have something in your stomach beforehand. They should help with the overall pain, though you will still feel some when you exercise or overextend yourself. I’d like you to test the dosage for two days and check in with me Saturday after class for potential adjustments, like if you’re in too much pain or actually don’t feel it at all.”

Katsuki sniffed as he picked up the box, his eyes narrowing at the label. “What do you mean, ‘don’t feel it at all’? Isn’t that the point of this?” he asked.

She gave a nod before she explained, “Of course the main objective is to ease your ailment. But if you’re completely pain free under the medication already, that is a sign we can lessen the dosage or end the prescription earlier. A young one like you shouldn’t have to constantly swallow pills only to live his life.”

Now

that

was a goal and attitude Katsuki could get behind. The doctors already told him he’d likely have to take something for his heart for the rest of his life, but he’d be

damned

if he didn’t try anything and everything to cut back on the medication as much as possible.

“Alright. Until Saturday, I guess,” he said as he pocketed the box along with his other pills. He’d take them once he was in the classroom and could access his bottle of water from his bag.

“Take care, Bakugo. I wish you a great day!” Recovery Granny replied with a smile and a little wave of her hand. “And try to get some more sleep, okay? Rest is very important for your health!”

Ducking his head, Katsuki quickly walked out of the room with gritted teeth. Damned shrewd old hag, calling him out

like that.

As if he

wasn’t

aware he looked like shit after barely getting some shut eye. But what was he supposed to do? He might be aloof, however even someone like him would be affected by a love-confession from the boy he had feelings for followed by what had to be the ugliest heartbreak in recent history. Not to mention Candycane and his crazy suggestion.

Hell, he couldn’t even properly

think

about that weird arrangement of theirs with all the thoughts and feelings swirling inside him. And since he apparently was a fucking masochist or something, his damn heart still throbbed with a flicker of hope that Izuku might work through his shit and actually want a relationship.

With

him.

... Or with the Half-and-Half bastard.

Either way, Katsuki would him rather have someone instead of staying alone and suffer in solitude like the martyr he was. Katsuki could really do without him running off like a self-sacrificing moron again. He was in no shape nor form to drag his ass back.

Feet stomping down extra forcefully, Katsuki prowled all the way to the classroom while focusing every fibre of his being on not setting off his explosions. He was starting to feel the lack of his meds; the sooner he got to his desk and threw back the pills, the better.

As expected, Glasses was the only one already in the room as he arrived – cleaning the board like the little over archiver he was.

Katsuki ignored his greeting as he headed for his desk, throwing his bag carelessly on top. His jaw was set as he rummaged through it in search of the bottle of water, and he grumbled under his breath as he popped back the lid with his thumb. Instantly he chucked down two mouthfuls, then grabbed his meds and washed them down with another gulp. Still the pills got in contact with his tongue – and he grimaced at the bitter taste hitting his tastebuds.

Damn fucking meds. They better kicked in soon. And once he was done taking them, he’d explore the meager rests and their boxes to smithereens.

He plopped down on his seat eventually, slowly taking out the stuff he needed for class and reviewing his notes in case of a pop-up quiz or something. The teachers were obviously letting them slack off, but with Aizawa-sensei as their homeroom one, it was only a question of time before they were thrown back into the real world. With the crazy first year they had there was still a chunk of the curriculum they had to work through, too; there were even rumors about their entire class being forced to partake in a learning session with Class B to catch up, and Katsuki grimaced at the mere idea of how Copycat would gloat and annoy the shit out of them if that came to be. Heck, he’d rather stand before the class and teach the extras

himself

before he let

that

happen.

As he contemplated and prepared, more of the others strolled in. He ignored whoever came to his desk, though Rock-for-Brains stuck around despite his huffs and growls and the lack of engagement from his side, chatting about the time they spent in the city the day before and asking how he was doing throughout his monologue.

Katsuki only perked up when he spotted a certain mix of colors, and he made a point of glaring across the room at Candycane once he walked in.

Once the fucker waved back in greeting, like the Godforsaken idiot he was, his lips pulled back in a snarl.

“Yoh, bro, you gotta stay calm,” Shitty Hair stated as he moved so heavily into Katsuki’s line of sight he effectively cut off the view. “Think about your heart. Aizawa-sensei’s never gonna let you back into the field if you act like that, you know? And I miss my bro.”

Katsuki snorted, his eyes narrowed as he glared up at him. “What, need me to save your ass or somethin’? All you do is clean up. And if a building

does

collapse on you, the debris’ gonna crack when it hits your thick head.” He huffed, then clicked his tongue. “Call me when some attack happens. You extras can deal with the little stuff NPCs do.”

Despite his sharp tone, Rocks-for-Brains clapped him amicably on the back. “Good to see you still have your humor.”

Katsuki shook off the hand as if it personally offended him.

“Really though, working in the city is pretty fulfilling. Makes me feel useful after everything that happened, you know?” Shitty Hair mused as he briefly leaned against Katsuki’s desk. “After so much was broken, it’s good to see something new replacing it. It’s inspiring to see so many come together and work as a team, too.”

Rolling his eyes, Katsuki laid down the book he was reading. Shitty Hair was pathetically romantic at heart, and those statements only served to confirm that streak of his again.

The fact that Katsuki sort of got where he came from though would forever remain his secret.

He’d been too hurt and exhausted back then - after dying and evolving his Quirk and all - to properly grasp just how much destruction was caused throughout all of Japan. It was like Jaku City, but on a dizzyingly larger scale, so much so Katsuki had serious doubts they would be able to recover from it.

There was still a lot left to do, however surely and steadily, the people built themselves back together. And taking part in it was oddly fulfilling on a deep, near primal level; almost as much as beating a strong, dangerous villain, just less rushed.

Before the monologue resumed however, Glasses cleared his throat and informed them it was time to take their seats since it was already eight-twenty-three.

Rock-for-Brains moved to his seat with a wave, but Katsuki was too busy to even acknowledge the gesture.

With furrowed brows he looked back over his shoulder - eyeing the suspiciously empty seat behind his.

Where the hell was Deku?

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach and his heart rate increased to the point it was just shy of setting off an alarm. From the corner of his eye he caught Icyhot’s expression, slightly pinched in worry as he, too, looked at Izuku’s spot.

Shuffling and murmuring caught Katsuki’s attention, making him turn back around - and narrow his eyes at the lanky, haggard form dragging itself to the podium in the front. “Good morning, class!” All Might greeted with a wave and a large smile. “This morning, I’ll take over the homeroom along with Aizawa’s following class of Japanese.” He produced a sheet of paper from one of the drawers. “Let me take care of the attendance check real quick, then I’ll tell you about today’s schedule…”

Katsuki allowed him to work through the sheet, but once All Might made the last check he asked, “Where’s Deku?”

“Bakugo! You ought to raise your hand before speaking!” Glasses reprimanded him, agitatedly making his ridiculous chopping motion with his arm. Katsuki didn’t even shoot him a glare though, only kept his eyes fixed on All Might.

Their eyes met, and instantly Katsuki could tell

something

was up. “Well,” All Might started, one finger coming up to scratch his jaw almost insecurely. “It is confidential… However, after what happened last schoolyear I know you all worry about your fellow classmates, so let me tell you this:” He braced his hands against the desk, spreading his arms in a gesture that gave at least the idea of powerful. “Young Midoriya is okay. He is excused this morning and will likely rejoin class by the third period.”

“Sensei,” Ponytail called from the back, and after a nod from All Might asked, “Can I ask if he has company?” Her voice got a little shaky as she added, “After what happened yesterday…”

The entire class fell silent, the air growing heavy. From the look on his face, Katsuki could tell All Might wanted to share more, reassure them in

some

way.

And then he said something that had every single one of them drop their shoulders in sheer relief:

“He’s with Aizawa. I promise he’ll make sure Young Midoriya is kept safe.”

Subconsciously, Katsuki reached up with his good hand and rubbed over the center of his chest. He could feel the beat slowing considerably; Aizawa-sensei wouldn’t let Deku start any stupid shit like attempting to run away again. The hobo was reliable in that regard like few others.

Still. He was going to give Izuku a piece of his mind once he showed his face again, daring to worry him like that.