Chapter Text
A month had passed since Izuku returned to the frontlines as a hero. Being able to help Izuku brought Katsuki a sense of happiness, he didn’t realize he needed—one he hadn’t felt in a long time since his forced retirement.
Even with his return to the frontlines, Izuku continued teaching at U.A. They weren’t partners, but they still crossed paths almost daily, usually while handling minor crimes during the quieter days.
Eight years after the deaths of All For One and Shigaraki, Japan had reached a point where it hardly needed heroes. Civil society had adapted, leaving only minor criminal cases and petty infractions for heroes to handle.
Everything had been growing tediously dull. With less action, heroes now have time to go out and balance their heroic lives with something closer to that of the average citizen. Katsuki’s friends often invited him out whenever they were free, and while he never outright refused, he never truly wanted to go either.
Even though Katsuki could use his quirk to get anywhere quickly, he thought it’d be more casual to buy a car to drive his friends around. That decision led him to purchase a vehicle. And what could be more stylish, high-performing, and top-quality than the launch of a Porsche 911 Turbo S? It’d be foolish not to buy one if you could, right? Katsuki could—and he wasn’t a fool.
“Deku and those extras are gonna lose it,” he imagined, brushing off the thought that first crossed his mind.
Today was going to be a busy day. Recently, the former Class 1-A had finally managed to align their schedules to celebrate the return of hero Deku to the frontlines. They’d been talking about it constantly in their group chat, though not everyone—especially Uraraka, Iida, and Tsuyu—had been able to free up time. That is, until now.
Katsuki would never admit it if asked, but seeing the whole class together again was something he looked forward to. After so long, it would be good for everyone—especially for Izuku, who was the reason they were gathering again and who had kept the most physical distance from them due to his hectic schedule.
Katsuki had promised to pick up Kirishima, who lived just a few kilometers away, and drive him to the meetup spot. When he arrived, he saw Kirishima already waiting on the sidewalk outside his building. And Izuku was there too.
When Katsuki pulled up and motioned for them to wait, he stepped out of the car.
“What the hell are you doing here, Deku?”
“Oh, hi, Kacchan. Kirishima invited me. He said that since we’re all heading to the same place, it’d be better to go together.”
Katsuki shot Kirishima a suspicious look, silently demanding an explanation for this betrayal. Kirishima wasn’t supposed to share anything he’d told him about Izuku. If he had, the guy could consider himself dead.
“I’m not taking either of you. Walk if you want. No one’s getting in my car again.”
“Aw, come on, dude. You said you’d drive.”
“I didn’t say I’d drive the nerd.”
“Come on, man. A deal’s a deal. If you don’t take us, I’ll scratch up your shiny new hood.”
Katsuki growled, scowling as he stomped toward Kirishima for daring to say that.
But before he could get too close, he heard Izuku laugh. He froze, turning to look at him. That laugh—it was different. It was more mature and open, yet somehow brighter and more beautiful. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Izuku laugh like that.
“Fine, whatever. Get in already. Don’t touch anything. And you…” He pointed at Izuku, noticing only then the bag he was holding. “Get in the back with that briefcase, nerd.”
“Oh, sure. No problem, Kacchan.”
Kirishima chuckled at the exchange but quickly sobered when Katsuki shot him a murderous glare that screamed, "You’re dead meat later, shitty hair."
In the car, as they made their way to the restaurant, the atmosphere was thick with unresolved tension. Katsuki was the first to break the silence.
“Why the hell am I playing chauffeur for Deku?”
“Not this again, dude.” Kirishima sighed. Though his grin made it clear he knew the real reason behind Katsuki’s irritation.
“Tch.”
“And you, Deku? You didn’t even need a ride. You should’ve just said no.”
“Nah, I just finished reporting on the students’ Quirk training. It was exhausting, so I’m grateful for the ride,” Izuku replied nonchalantly, knowing full well Katsuki hadn’t really wanted to refuse him.
“Besides, Kacchan got a ton of applications for sidekicks but scared them all off. They left crying.” Izuku chuckled as he said this. Katsuki didn’t know how to respond to Izuku speaking so casually about him having other partners, so he defaulted to anger—right before lapsing into sudden silence.
“If someone had said they wanted to surpass me, I’d have accepted immediately.”
Kirishima opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by Katsuki.
“Gonna keep teaching?”
“Yes.”
Katsuki didn’t reply. He couldn’t. Kirishima didn’t interrupt either, giving Izuku space to continue.
“I’ve been gathering data for the armor on the days I’m not teaching. A lot of schools have invited me to give lectures and seminars, so I get to share experiences with the new generation almost every day. The armor…it makes me happy. But my feelings haven’t changed. I think I’d still want to teach, even if I still had One For All.”
Katsuki gripped the steering wheel tighter. He didn’t have the right to tell Izuku what to do. This wasn’t about giving up; it was about understanding that some things couldn’t be changed. He knew Izuku better than anyone. Once he set his mind on something, no one could make him stop. He could only think it through.
Silence filled the car again, though it was different this time. Katsuki, despite his efforts to hide it, felt a pang of frustration hearing the response he’d expected. He kept his hands steady on the wheel, masking his discomfort as best he could.
“Hmmmm…got it,” was all Katsuki could manage. Izuku didn’t seem to catch the deeper meaning behind his words—a rarity for him. All Katsuki could assume was that it wasn’t on Izuku’s mind. And that was the worst part. Without it, there wasn’t much left. Without it, there’d be nothing left at all.
“He turned you down, Bakugou!” Kirishima blurted, half-laughing but clearly exasperated by Katsuki’s current situation—a misunderstanding that his best friend didn’t seem to be trying hard enough to resolve.
“What?” Izuku asked, completely confused by Kirishima’s words, confirming Katsuki’s suspicion that Izuku genuinely didn’t understand what he had been hinting at this entire time.
“He just invited you to work at his agency, Midoriya!”
“W-what?! Oh, sorry, Kacchan, but I can’t.”
“You should think about it,” Katsuki finally broke the silence, his voice firmer now. “I’m not saying this just for me. You get that? You’ve got more experience now, and working there would be good for you.”
Izuku could feel Katsuki’s eyes on him, even without looking. He knew what that meant. Katsuki had always wanted to see him on the frontlines, right by his side. Now, it seemed like Katsuki wanted to pull him further into his world, into his territory. And while Izuku appreciated the offer, he knew it wasn’t the right path for him at this moment.
“I know you’re trying to make me stay,” Izuku said softly, but with resolve. “But I can’t, Kacchan. I have my own reasons for continuing what I’m doing now. Teaching at U.A., pursuing my own journey—that’s what I want.”
Katsuki scowled, his face twisting in frustration and something else he couldn’t quite identify. He didn’t understand why Izuku was so stubborn about this path when, just a month ago, he’d been all smiles and excitement about returning to the frontlines. Back then, it seemed like Izuku wanted to be by his side—where the action was constant, and the challenges were real. Where they could compete together, even if it wasn’t forever the way Katsuki wanted.
“Why, then?” Katsuki asked, his impatience clear. “Do you think it’s better to bounce from school to school, surrounded by a bunch of kids who don’t even know what they’re doing because society’s stuck in a rut? You’ve got so much more potential than that, Deku. We…damn it, we could do so much more.”
Izuku took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the window as the buildings and streets blurred past. He could feel the weight of Katsuki’s words, but there was something deeper between them—something that had always made him want to stay by Katsuki’s side, even when he couldn’t. He admired Katsuki deeply, but he couldn’t let that sway him now.
“I’m not stuck, Kacchan,” Izuku replied calmly. “I’m doing what makes me feel like I’m truly helping. Being a teacher isn’t any less heroic than being on the frontlines. It’s not about where I am—it’s about what I can do with what I have. You’ve been to my classes, to my seminars. You’ve even volunteered to teach. You know what I’m doing is meaningful and worthwhile.”
Katsuki let out a frustrated huff, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to push further. He comes again to the acknowledgment that he knows Izuku well enough to understand that once his mind was made up, nothing could change it. What Izuku was doing was noble and rewarding, but it was hard to watch him settle for something that felt like giving up on his greatest dream.
For now, Katsuki decided to let it go. The only thing that could change Izuku’s mind was his own experiences and the outcomes of those choices.
"Alright then," Katsuki finally says, his voice quieter, like he’s accepted it but isn’t fully happy with the answer. "Just don’t come whining to me later when you start missing a good fight."
Izuku laughs, relieved to see that, even though Katsuki is clearly unhappy, he isn’t going to keep pushing. "I promise I won’t. I’m happy the way I am."
Kirishima, who had been quiet in the passenger seat up until now, lets out a low laugh. "I never thought I’d see Bakugo give up a fight with Midoriya."
"I’m not giving up!" Katsuki snaps quickly, his voice firm but with a hint of nervousness. "I’m just gonna let him get lost in his own stubbornness. For now."
"But I’ve got one more thing to say, Deku." Katsuki pauses briefly, wondering if he’s got the right words. Words that will actually get through to Izuku. "Maybe I’m not the best person to say this, but I think it’s time you started seeing yourself in a better light. Because if you don’t, you won’t even be able to see the most obvious things."
"Look who’s talking." Izuku responds sarcastically, a new trait of his that’s only grown as their relationship has become more open. It annoys Katsuki to an extent now. He’s really being serious.
But yeah, Izuku really didn’t get it. Katsuki doesn’t even understand why he’s saying this now. It’s no secret how much he’s done for Izuku, how much he’s sacrificed and dedicated himself to him. All of it was part of his heroism too, the person he became, the hero he wanted to be the most. But everything feeling empty now was wrong. He needs the other to understand this, even if it means insisting on this point.
"Giving everyone special treatment means no one is really special to you."
He wants Izuku to understand what he’s been doing for him, how he’s been waiting and trying so hard to make them heroes together, not apart, but as a team. Or at least, even if he refuses, understand how much it meant to him. But out of all his friends, Izuku seems to be the only one lost in translation when it comes to them, to his actions. Izuku not realizing this hurts more than it should.
"What does that mean?"
Of course, Izuku wouldn’t get it. Again. But here’s where he wraps up his last attempt for the day. Katsuki’s never trusted time, which has always been his greatest challenger. He’s always had to meet deadlines, his own expectations, his atonement. He’s been shown time and time again that there will come a point when you won’t have enough time to save someone, to win a big case. The lack of time is what he fears most now. And yet, now all he can rely on is that one day, Izuku will understand his intentions behind everything he’s done and said.
"You’ll understand, Deku. You will."
Even without fully understanding, Izuku smiles, feeling a wave of gratitude. It wasn’t easy for Katsuki to express his feelings like this, but Izuku knew that, somehow, this was his way of showing he still cared. And that, in itself, made everything feel right.
When they arrive at the restaurant reserved exclusively for the class, everyone has already gathered, dressed in simple outfits to reminisce about their UA days, wearing satisfied smiles. Katsuki seemed to be the only one without a reason to smile.
At some point during dinner, Kirishima decided to be his usual loud self and raise a toast for Shoto’s achievement of reaching second place in the hero rankings. This was a big deal for everyone, Katsuki wouldn’t deny that. But it also didn’t seem to matter much since eight years ago, when he had to continue as a hero alone, frustrated that he couldn’t compete with Izuku anymore—when all he had ever been happy about was coming to terms with that idea and eventually cherishing it.
After his graduation, his mood worsened, and he started reacting more aggressively to the press and even some of his own fans. These constant behaviors cost him his fourth place in the rankings, dropping him to fifteenth. He should have been affected by this, but for some reason, it also made sense. The person he wanted to compete for the top with wasn’t even on it. What was even the point then.
Just after shoving the last piece of sushi into his mouth, his eyes drifted to the sound of laughter near the main table. Ochaco was chatting animatedly with Tsuyu, her face lit up by that silly smile of hers, while Izuku watched her laugh softly at something Tsuyu said. Katsuki pressed his lips together and turned his gaze to the glass of water in his hands, but his fingers tightened around the glass, producing a sharp sound that brought him back to reality.
"Why does he look at her like that?" he thought, feeling an irritating heat rise up his neck. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that the two of them had been friends for years too, but something about this particular scene was bothering him. Maybe it was the way Izuku tilted his head slightly as he listened to her, that almost soft expression, or how his eyes seemed to light up for someone behind him, and it wasn’t him. Katsuki hated to admit it, but he could recognize a look full of admiration when he saw one. And that wasn’t directed at him. It used to be.
"It’s not like this is news," he murmured to himself, trying to convince himself it wasn’t a big deal. "Deku’s always been a sentimental idiot." But the knot in his chest said otherwise. He knew he had no right to be bothered. After all, he’d never said anything. Never made it clear what he really felt about the other, if he even understood what he felt.
Still, it was annoying. He could feel the tension in his shoulders growing every time he saw Izuku looking at her. It was almost like Izuku was forgetting everything else, who else was in the room, who was watching, who was right next to him. Him.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, trying to ignore the discomfort that seemed to grow like slow-burning fire. He knew it was stupid, knew he had no real reason to feel this way, but the weight was undeniable. He’d always been right there, by Izuku’s side, encouraging him, pushing him forward when everyone else seemed to hesitate when at risk. And now, it was like that didn’t matter. Like he was just another face in the crowd to the nerd.
"Idiot..." he muttered, averting his gaze from Izuku again. He knew he needed to stop thinking about it, but the image of Izuku looking so admiringly at Ochaco was still stuck in his mind. "Shit..."
"Hey, Bakubro, you good?" Kirishima asked, tapping lightly on Katsuki’s shoulder. He glanced at him briefly, just enough for his friend to see the irritation burning in his eyes.
"I’m fine, shitty hair," he responded, his voice sharp but low.
"Shitty hair, huh? Okay." Katsuki had stopped using his old nicknames a long time ago, which was proof that he was really stressed now.
And while Kirishima shrugged and went back to the lively conversation at the table, Katsuki allowed himself one more glance at Izuku. He didn’t know what bothered him more: the fact that Izuku seemed so focused on Ochaco, or the fact that he couldn’t say anything about it.
"You really are an idiot, Deku. And I’m even worse for caring so much." He thought, forcing himself to keep his posture as he desperately wanted to stop looking at Izuku and let himself feel the misunderstood pain that had been building inside him.
When everyone says their goodbyes, Kirishima, Mina, and Denki—who live on the way to Katsuki's house—are the only ones heading toward their car, while Izuku is heading in the opposite direction. Katsuki doesn't know what to say to Izuku anymore or if there will even be another chance or the right moment to clarify what he meant in the car.
"I'll have to pick up Edgeshot in the morning, so I won't be able to drive you home tonight, Deku."
"It's okay. Thanks for getting me here, Kacchan. See you next time!"
"Next time"? Would there be a next time? Because everything Katsuki felt screamed that Izuku leaving now, without understanding him, meant they might not be this close next time.
"See you, nerd," Katsuki says, forcing himself to ignore the pain in his chest, a pain he shouldn’t be feeling. They’ll see each other again soon, right? Nothing would change.
And so, Katsuki stays. He stands still, watching the person he’s dedicated most of his life thinking about walking away from him, and somehow, everything feels like it’s the last time.
He would see Izuku again, so why did it hurt? Why did it have to hurt?
The car door slammed shut with a sharp sound, cutting through the night. His friends were already in the car, but Katsuki remained frozen, watching Izuku's figure disappear in the distance. The other’s silhouette seemed smaller as he walked, as if the space between them was more than just meters. It was a distance Katsuki didn’t know how to cross. Not with words, not with gestures. He wanted to shout, run to Izuku, and say everything he had buried inside himself during the years Izuku had been absent, but something stopped him from doing it, holding him in place.
The cold wind blew, but not enough to cool the heat burning in his chest. Anger, frustration, sadness...he couldn’t even tell what he was feeling anymore. He just knew it hurt. And this pain reminded him of all the times he hadn’t treated Izuku well. All the times he told himself it would be different, but it never really was.
"Idiot..." he murmured to himself, clenching his fists so hard he felt his nails nearly pierce his palms. "Why is it so hard...for me to talk to you?"
He could hear Kirishima, Mina and Denki laughing to each other in the car, but their voices sounded muffled, distant. His friends had no idea what he was going through, the chaos consuming his mind. To them, it was just another ordinary night, a fun gathering to celebrate their group’s bond. But for Katsuki, it was a cruel reminder that he was still a coward when it came to being honest with Izuku. The last time, he had been crying in the hospital, when he found out Izuku would lose the individuality he worked so hard to make his own. It was a cry of pain, of guilt for how he treated Izuku, a cry of fear for what their future might not be because of it. Because he might be part of what made Izuku think he wasn't enough without a quirk. He never imagined everything would end up like this, even with Izuku returning.
"Man, are you just gonna stand there?" Kirishima called, rolling down the car window. "It’s freezing, man. Let’s go?"
Katsuki blinked, snapped out of his thoughts. He glanced one last time at Izuku, who was almost out of sight in the horizon. He was completely absorbed in his thoughts, something only Izuku could do to him. It was too late to say anything now. He knew that. Still, something inside him urged him to run, to stop the distance from growing any further.
But still, without responding to Kirishima, Katsuki got in the car and started the engine, his hands still trembling slightly. He looked ahead, but the image of Izuku looking so gently at Ochako and then walking happily away from him, when his own heart felt like it was falling apart, remained etched in his mind.
Izuku, on the other hand, walked silently through the streets lit by city lights. The air was cold, but pleasant against his skin. He felt strange, like something was out of place, but he couldn’t pinpoint what. He wondered if he had said something that irritated Katsuki. That wasn’t unusual, but today, it felt different.
"Kacchan..." he whispered to himself, looking up at the sky where there didn’t seem to be a single star. "You always seem to have something more to say, but never really say it. What are you hiding from me?"
Even talking to himself with no answer, Izuku smiled. It was a melancholic smile, full of doubts and feelings he wasn’t sure if he should or would ever be able to name. Unlike what everyone might think, he knew that Katsuki cared about him, maybe more than anyone else. And that was the most confusing part of it all. Why, despite all that care, did it seem like there was something between them that kept them from fully understanding each other?
Izuku stopped walking for a moment and looked back. Katsuki must have already gone. But for a moment, he wondered what it would be like if the other had called him, stopped him from leaving, and said what he really wanted to say. "I wonder...did he really want to say something more?"
"No." He shook his own head, dismissing the sudden, nonsensical thought. "Kacchan isn’t like that. If he wanted to say something, he would've said it. Wouldn't he?"
In the car, they had just dropped Denki off halfway, and while the silence filled the space between Kirishima and Mina, Katsuki drove mechanically, his eyes fixed on the road. But his mind was elsewhere, still stuck in that moment when Izuku walked away, like a last goodbye. Kirishima watched him in the rearview mirror, noticing the obvious discomfort and sadness on his friend's face.
"Hey, Bakugo," Kirishima called, his voice softer than usual. "You okay, bro? You seem kinda...off."
"I'm fine," Katsuki replied quickly, but his tone wasn’t convincing.
"You don’t seem fine," Mina chimed in, leaning forward. "It’s Midoriya, isn’t it? It’s always about him."
Katsuki scoffed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Shut up, Pinky. It’s not like that."
"Of course it is," Kirishima insisted. "Look, man, I don’t want to butt in, but maybe it’s time for you to...I don’t know, be honest with him? Say what you really feel, you know? No more hints or dodging the subject."
"I don’t have anything to say," Katsuki shot back, but the hesitation in his voice was clear.
"Do you think he knows?" Mina asked, crossing her arms. "About how much you care and the way you care? Because, from the looks of it, he has no idea."
Katsuki didn’t respond to that. He knew they were right. Izuku didn’t know. And how could he know, when Katsuki never managed to say anything directly? All he did was imply meanings, tease, and hope Izuku would understand. But clearly, that wasn’t enough.
Katsuki dropped Mina and Kirishima off at home, and as he drove through the empty streets, the silence of frustration hanging in the air, Katsuki decided he wouldn’t give up just yet. He knew this couldn’t continue like this, stuck in a cycle of misunderstandings and unsaid words.
He came to the conclusion that he needed to do something about it before it was too late.
Chapter Text
The illuminated streets were bustling, the air laden with December's cold, though it felt comfortable on the skin. Izuku walked home at a slow pace, lost in thought. Despite the pleasant reunion with the friends he'd made over the years, something had been bothering him since he left the restaurant. Or maybe it was someone.
Katsuki.
The glances he threw while Izuku was distracted, the words spoken in a tone lower than usual, and that unusual silence after Izuku declined to visit his agency during the car ride... It was strange. Not bad, just different. Izuku wondered if something else was bothering him. He always had an almost instinctive ability to sense when something was wrong with Katsuki, even if Katsuki never admitted that anything was.
"Deku?"
From afar, Ochaco’s familiar voice pulled him out of his trance. He turned around, surprised to see her walking out of a café with a briefcase in hand. Her smile, as always, was lovely—warm and inviting.
"Uraraka-san! What a coincidence seeing you here," Izuku called, immediately running to her.
"Yeah, I thought you'd already be home," she said, as Izuku settled beside her. "I just wanted to grab something warm to take back, but it seems like we're heading the same way. Care to join me? I've been wanting to talk to you anyway."
"Sure," he replied, adjusting his blazer.
They began walking together, their initial conversation light. They talked about hero work, memories of their time at U.A., and how life seemed to have changed so much over the years, yet somehow not enough. There was something comforting about being with Ochaco. She always had a way of making things simpler.
"You've been pretty busy lately, haven't you?" she asked suddenly.
"Ah, a little. But I guess everyone is, right? It's part of being a hero," he replied with a smile.
"True," she said, laughing. "I've been so caught up with the project that it's hard to find time to meet up like this. I miss when we could see each other more often. You and I hardly talk anymore."
Izuku paused to think about it. She was right. Despite being close friends, their routines had pulled them apart more than he liked to admit. "I miss that too. It's nice being able to talk like this, without any rush."
"Deku-kun," she began, stopping in her tracks and turning to face him, "can I be honest with you about something?"
"Of course," Izuku replied. There was an unexpected weight in the air that usually wasn’t there between them.
Ochaco took a deep breath, gripping the handle of her briefcase more tightly. "I like you. More than just a friend. Actually, I think I've always liked you."
Her confession hung in the air, and Izuku blinked, blushing and surprised.
"Uraraka-san, I... I didn’t know. I never realized that—" He opened his mouth to respond, but she raised a hand, stopping him.
"I know," she continued, with a now-melancholic smile. "I know you've probably never thought of me that way, and that's okay. I'm not telling you this to make you uncomfortable or anything like that. I just... I thought you deserved to know, and I deserved to finally put an end to these feelings I've held for so long."
"But, Uraraka-san, I—"
"I know," she said again, her voice soft. "You've always been focused on other things. On your goals, on helping others, just like I’ve been, even though I was torn between these feelings. You've also always been focused on... maybe someone else in particular."
Izuku looked at her, trying to understand what she meant. Why was everyone talking about "someone special" to him today? She smiled, but there was a gentle sadness in her eyes.
"Deku-kun, you’ve always been brilliant, determined, selfless. You kept fighting even when you were covered in blood and breaking your arms. I’ve always admired that about you. I think that’s why I fell in love. But over time, I realized maybe that feeling was one-sided. And love can’t be built on admiration alone. It can’t be. We weren’t meant to be. And that’s okay."
"Uraraka-san, I already... I already felt the same. I don’t know. Maybe I still do, but it’s different. It’s calm now." He didn’t know how to say this. Part of him still felt guilty, another part moved by her sincerity. "I don’t know when this uncertainty started, but now I don’t know how I feel about so many things. I think I’m sure of something and keep smiling to convince myself that it’s what I want, but I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore."
"You don’t have to say anything else," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I’ve already made peace with it. And I’m happy just being your friend, truly. I just wanted you to know because... well, like you said, sometimes I see you doing the same thing with your own feelings. Hiding them, pretending they aren’t there."
He blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that you don’t say things, but your actions always betray your composure."
"My actions?"
"Yes," she agreed, hesitating for a moment. "Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you. Something that’s been on my mind since dinner tonight."
Izuku looked at her, curious. "What is it?"
"It’s about Bakugo."
Katsuki’s name made Izuku’s heart race. He tried not to show it, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. He took a step back, stammering. "Ka-Kacchan? What about him?"
Ochaco bit her lip, as if carefully choosing her words. "Today, at the restaurant... I noticed he was watching you the entire time. And in a different way. Much more intense and constant. Did you notice?"
Izuku stopped walking for a moment, surprised by the direct question. "I... don’t know. Kacchan’s always been intense with me. I guess I’ve gotten used to it."
"But today it seemed very different," Ochaco insisted, looking at him with a mix of curiosity, sadness, and concern. "It seemed like he wanted to tell you something but couldn’t."
Her words left him uneasy, though not in a bad way. He tried to recall every moment of the night: the way Katsuki looked at him, the carefully chosen words. Could Ochaco be right?
"I never know what Kacchan’s thinking," he admitted. "He’s not exactly... open about what he feels."
"Maybe it’s because he’s scared," Ochaco suggested.
"Scared? Kacchan?" Izuku laughed, but the sound was more nervous than genuine. Deep down, he always knew.
"Everyone’s afraid of something, Deku-kun," she said, smiling, raising her arms and finally looking up. "Even Bakugo. And sometimes, the fear of being vulnerable can be the greatest fear of all. And I know you know that too."
Izuku reflected on that as they kept walking. It was strange to think of Katsuki as someone who was scared, but maybe it was true. He knew it was true. He’d known Katsuki since they were kids, and while he saw him as an unshakable force, he also knew he carried many insecurities. And he was the only one Katsuki ever seemed to open up to.
"Deku-kun, can I ask you one more thing?" Ochaco interrupted his thoughts.
"Sure," he replied, though his voice was a bit hesitant.
"And you? What do you feel about Bakugo?"
The question hit him like a punch to the stomach. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at Ochaco as if she’d just asked him something impossible.
"What... what do you mean by that?" he asked, stammering.
"I mean exactly what I asked. While I was talking to Tsuyu, I saw you looking at the mirror right behind me with an expression on your face I’d never seen before. I got curious, and when I got up to go to the restroom, I realized it reflected exactly where you, Todoroki, Kirishima, and Bakugo were sitting." She crossed her arms. "I know the others are out of the equation. So... what do you really feel for Bakugo? Because, looking from the outside, it seems like you two have something... special."
Izuku felt his face heat up despite the cold. He tried to think of an answer, but his mind was blank. He knew what Katsuki meant to him—a rival, a friend, someone he deeply admired. But... was there something more?
"I... I don’t know," he admitted finally, his voice low.
Ochaco smiled in a way that was both encouraging and a little teasing. "Well, then maybe it’s time to find out."
They continued walking, the silence between them now heavier, but not uncomfortable.
"As you now know, Deku," Ochaco said after a while, "I’ve also had my moments of confusion with my feelings. It’s normal. But we need to be honest with ourselves, even if it’s scary."
Izuku looked at her, surprised by her sincerity. "What about you? How did you deal with it to get to this moment?"
"With time," she replied, looking ahead. "And a lot of reflection. Sometimes, we have to step away from other people’s expectations and ask ourselves what we really want. Who really matters."
Izuku nodded, feeling the weight of her words. Maybe that’s what he needed to do. Look inside himself and admit what he’d been avoiding for so long.
When they finally reached the point where their paths separated, Ochaco turned to him with a soft smile.
"From now on, can I call you by your name at our next meetups? I feel like ever since U.A., we’ve been close enough to do that. And I’ve always wanted to."
"Of course, absolutely!" Izuku said, sudden and pure excitement in his voice. "And can I call you that too?"
"I’d be honored, Izuku."
"Thank you for everything, Ochako."
"And Izuku, remember," she said, waving her arms, her figure growing smaller in the distance. "Be honest with yourself. And with Bakugo, if you’re brave enough."
Izuku stood still, alone in the night as she walked away, her words echoing in his mind. Maybe it was time to face the feelings he’d been trying to ignore for so long. Maybe Katsuki was waiting for him to do exactly that.
Katsuki didn’t know exactly what he was doing. Not that he’d been in control of his own thoughts much lately. The night was still dark, and the city quiet enough that he could hear the sound of his own footsteps against the asphalt. It was irritating. He hated the silence—the kind that made his thoughts echo louder than they should, completely contrasting with his bad mood.
After that damn reunion with the group, he’d left his friends halfway through, gone home, dropped his backpack by the entrance, and stood in the middle of the room, staring into nothing for longer than he cared to admit. Every part of him screamed to just forget it all. To pretend nothing was wrong.
But everything was suddenly becoming so clear that there was no way to pretend. Not anymore.
The truth was like a blade stuck in his throat, harder to ignore with each passing moment. And the more he tried to push it away, the more Kirishima’s words haunted him.
"I don’t want to butt in, but maybe it’s time for you to... I don’t know, be honest with him? Say how you really feel, you know? No hints or avoiding the subject."
He knew what Kirishima meant. And the worst part was that he was right. He’d known that from the moment he left the restaurant, hands stuffed in his pockets, his chest burning with something he didn’t even know how to name. He needed to do something before it was too late.
But how?
He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, the night air cold against his face. What could he do? What could he say? He wasn’t good with words. He never had been. His way was always to blow things up first and think later. But with Izuku... with Izuku, he couldn’t blow up. He couldn’t yell or lash out. Izuku was different. He always had been.
"Damn it," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair.
He knew where Deku lived. Of course he did. He knew more about that nerd than he wanted to admit, even to himself. And now, as he walked through the city, his feet automatically guided him to him, as if his mind had already made that decision before he even realized it.
When he reached the street where Izuku lived, Katsuki stopped. The lights in the other's apartment were off, and he stood there for long minutes, as if waiting for something to happen. But nothing did.
He took a deep breath, clenching his fists at his sides. This was pathetic. He, Katsuki Bakugou, standing in the middle of the street like an idiot, too scared to take the next step.
But then he remembered something. A distant memory, from when they were kids. Izuku, very little, always running after him, always trying to help him with something, even when he didn’t want it. Even when he wouldn’t let him. Even when he yelled at him to leave him alone. And then, years later, Izuku was still there. Even when he didn’t deserve him to be.
That was the thing that killed him. Izuku had always been there. Always the fixed point in the chaos that was Katsuki’s life, until he himself became the chaos, becoming the reason for so many things that Katsuki would be willing to leave behind for him. And now...now it was his turn to be there for Izuku.
He took another deep breath and, before he could change his mind, pulled the phone from his pocket.
"Hey, Deku," he said, as soon as he heard Izuku’s sleepy voice on the other side of the line. "I need to talk to you. Now."
When Izuku appeared at the building door a few minutes later, he was still dressed in pajamas, his hair completely messy. Katsuki had to look away for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest in that irritating way it had been doing frequently.
"Kacchan?" Izuku’s voice was low, but full of concern, something that had become a solid characteristic of him. "Did something happen?"
Katsuki didn’t answer immediately. He looked at Izuku, trying to gather the right words, but all that came out was: "You’re an idiot."
Izuku blinked, confused. "Kacchan? What?"
"You’ve always been an idiot, did you know that? Always running after things, throwing yourself into the middle of problems. Always thinking you can save everyone. That you can please everyone," Katsuki took a step forward, his hands clenched at his sides. "But who’s gonna save you, Deku? Who’s gonna choose you when you can’t even do that for yourself?"
Izuku went silent, his green eyes wide. He hadn’t expected that. Katsuki knew that. He hadn’t expected to say that either, but the words kept coming, like an avalanche.
"I... damn, I still don’t know how to do this, okay? I’m not like you. I’m not good with words or showing feelings just through my face or... any of that shit. But I know one thing, Deku." He took a deep breath, trying to control the quiver in his voice. "I’m not gonna stand by while you throw yourself into the fire again, while you hide and put others before yourself again. Not anymore."
"Kacchan..." Izuku tried to say something, but Katsuki quickly interrupted him.
"You’ve always been there for me. Always. And I never did anything to deserve that. You never gave up, even though I gave you thousands of reasons to. But damn, Deku, I’m getting better. And I want to be even better. I want to be someone who..." He stopped, feeling his throat tighten more and more. "Someone you can count on. Someone you... someone you can..."
He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. The silence that followed was filled with things neither of them knew how to properly say.
Izuku took a hesitant step forward, but with that determined look that Katsuki both hated and loved at the same time. "Kacchan... I’ve always counted on you. Even when you thought I didn’t. I always knew that when I needed you, you’d be there. Remember in the war before you saved me from Kurogiri? I don’t know how or why, but I felt you coming. More than anyone else, that gave me security and strength to keep going. And if you really want to be here now..."
Izuku smiled, a small but genuine smile.
"Then I’m listening, Kacchan."