Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As it turns out, nothing good can ever last. 

Not in, like an edgy, teenage angst kinda way, but more so in an annoying “Why us?” kinda way. 

So, Class 1-A is taking a trip to the mall… all together. You’d think the first time would have taught them. 

And it did! Midoriya thinks. But maybe it just didn’t work out like it did. Because really, he promises that the plan was just him, Iida, Uraraka, and Todoroki going to the mall to get supplies for the dorm. Restocking snacks, buying throw pillows and blankets, and maybe some hero merch to hang in the common room. 

But, well, maybe Todoroki wanted to invite Sero, which was fine, one other person doesn’t matter. But then Uraraka wanted to invite Tsu, which yeah the group is getting a little big but a few extra hands to carry the grocery bags is good, right?

After that, Sero asked if he could invite Kaminari so he wouldn't feel left out. Midoriya would feel terrible if Kaminari felt left out, so of course he said yes. And Tsu invited Hakegure because she didn’t realize it was an exclusive thing—which Midoriya never meant it to be! He just wanted to go to the mall to pick up some supplies! But that’s fine. Eight people really aren’t that many anyway, so he’s sure it’ll be fine.

…Kaminari invited Jirou because he promised to hang out with her that day. And okay , the reasons aren’t really that convincing anymore, but it’s just Jirou. Hakegure told Ojiro that he could come too, and it’s not like Midoriya is the ring leader – he doesn’t have to approve just so someone could bring another person, plus he’s not the kind of guy to exclude people (he’s also not the kind of guy to say no) so he guesses they’re a group of ten now. 

Ojiro to Shoji, then Jirou to Yaoyorozu, Shoji to Kouda, Yaoyorozu to Ashido, Kouda to Tokoyami, Ashido to Kirishima…

And well, you see the pattern, and soon enough the whole of 1-A was invited to this mall trip, and as usual Midoriya doesn’t want to create conflict by telling some people to drop out so he’ll deal. Even though the last time this many of them went to the mall together he was almost turned to dust. 

Aizawa-sensei caught wind of this little mall plot and also took it upon himself to create his own invite. Midoriya feels, marginally, safer– if not a little miffed.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Because barely an hour into their trip where they’ve all reconvened in the food court, the whole class gets first class seats to a quirk awakening. A truth quirk. A very, very , 

Very, very, very, very, very, very thorough truth quirk. 

The clamor was expected. As UA students, anytime they went anywhere there was an expected gawking at their presence. So it was only when the stares and shouts turned from being on them to being right next to them that they really noticed something was going on. And if that wasn’t going to absolutely bite them, Aizawa-sensei’s probably going to have them training hero-awareness for the next week . (“You have to be aware of your surroundings, a situation can always get worse. You need to be able to anticipate what will go wrong when it does– because it will.”) He can already hear the lecture in his head. 

The glowing kid was a sight to behold as he coughed and sputtered. He was looking directly at their class like the rest of the dining hall had been. Which honestly, probably wouldn’t have happened if there had been less of them. He’s not bitter about that, but maybe if he had been a little more firm with his classmates, then maybe none of them would be in this situation. 

The kid’s arms raise, but they shudder like he’s in pain to do so. And he really doesn’t look all there. His eyes naturally glaze over as his shaking palms spray an impressive amount of water(?) onto the entirety of 1-A, minus Aizawa-sensei who had the sense to jump away at the last minute. 

The real issue is when the nature of the quirk is revealed barely a few seconds later. Or at least Midoriya reveals the issue because he’s becoming the issue. 

Uraraka is looking at him with those big worried eyes and asks him if he’s alright. He barely has any time to properly formulate a response before his mouth is moving. Which in itself is not odd, but it’s the fact that he can’t stop his mouth from moving even after he blurts out, 

“Mentally or physically? Because physically I’m fine but mentally I’m pretty much always in a state of panic.”  

Which whoa , way too much information! His mind is already moving a mile a minute trying to pinpoint the nature of the quirk. He’s already figured out that it’s a compelling quirk, most likely compelling people to tell the truth– and clearly American truth, he snorts, because it was stuck on “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” Otherwise, when Uraraka had asked him if he was fine he would’ve been able to stop at “I’m fine.” Because he is fine… physically. 

He’s muttering again because he can feel his classmates' eyes on him, or maybe, actually it was from the concerning statement he just made about his mental health– but that’s hopefully not actually the case because he doesn’t want to talk about that. 

The little kid seems to have recovered, staring in awe at his hands which are covered in an oil-like substance. It was probably what he sprayed onto the class Midoriya realizes belatedly (Not water then– possibly sweat-based?). But even in awe at his amazing feat, the kid looks up at the class and begins to cry. 

Midoriya doesn’t even realize he’s walked over until he’s huddled down next to the kid giving him a small smile. 

“Hey, hey. It’s alright.” Midoriya comforts him easily, “That must have been pretty scary, huh? But it’s okay now and you’ve got a really cool quirk.” The kid –eyeing him suspiciously, like he thinks Midoriya might be mad– nods, but Midoriya just keeps up his soft tone and small smile. 

“I know, when my quirk came in it was definitely really scary,” and it was- there’s no denying that. “But after I learned how to control it I was able to start helping people.” 

The kid has stopped crying and looks up at Midoriya earnestly, “Do you really think I’ll be able to help people with my quirk?” He snuffles out, with a determined pout gracing his already tear-stained face. 

Still struck by the quirk, not two seconds later Midoriya is blurting “Without a doubt, quirks are tools and you have a very powerful one.” Thankful that the quirk gives him some wiggle room in the word vomit department, (probably based on what the person thinks is necessary as the “whole” truth- stop muttering good god ) He sighs gratefully. He could’ve just info-dumped all the quirk analysis he’d just built up in the barely minute and a half he’d known the kid but that’s not exactly true or relevant , that’s more of advice.

The kid runs off to his mom and he turns back to where the rest of the class is looking at each other with thinly veiled suspicion and Aizawa-sensei is talking to a mall security officer. Rejoining them is a matter of seconds as Midoriya strides back over to where they're all standing. He hears the tail-end of the Mall cop and Aizawa-sensei’s conversation and tilts his head. 

“--really sir, there’s not much to be done. The quirk manifestation is something that cannot be regulated by quirk law. I can file an incident claim but my hands are tied. I can’t unquirk your students and calling the police wouldn’t do anything because there’s nothing to do.” 

“I understand. I want on record all that happened today and have the footage and audio sent to UA as soon as possible. As well as, for it to be deleted from all servers. UA has a lot of sensitive information and with the students being hit with a truth quirk I want to be sure nothing makes it out of this building unless it is straight to Principal Nezu.” 

The guard looks worried about his teacher’s request but he can’t say he blames the man. Hell if the League of Villains knew about this they’d come in like bloodhounds to search for their weaknesses. 

As it is, once the guard promises to have all footage sent to UA and then promptly deleted Aizawa-sensei corrals his students out, and back to the dorms. All of them still looked as if any one of their fellow classmates could turn on them at any moment. 

Once they’re back in the dorms Midoriya is itching to crawl into his bed and cry with all of the embarrassing stuff he’s said today, however, Ashido apprehensively calls the class to gather around after Aizawa-sensei had left to drop a report off to the Principal.

“Look,” She says, still looking a little wary, “I know this isn’t the best thing right now, but what if we make this into a fun trust exercise? Where we’re allowed to ask each other non-serious questions so we can get to know each other a little better.” She looks around as if to gauge how receptive the class is,  “After all if I’m gonna be living with you guys I want to at least know some of you, past just what I know from class.” 

He hates that it makes sense. He hates it because Midoriya has way too many secrets to want to participate in a game sharing secrets. A game where he physically cannot hold himself back from sharing said secrets. This, he thinks, is going to go even worse than an entire class mall trip. 

Most of the class seems to be agreeing with Ashido, whether they just find the idea fun or just don’t have much to hide Midoriya doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to shut her down either, especially not when he thinks she’s right. 

Aizawa-sensei comes back disgruntled and annoyed. Also, clearly surprised that the class is still all together in the common room. 

“What are you all still doing here? Aren’t you problem children going to go let the quirk wear off?” He crosses his arms grumpily.

“We’re gonna do a game like truth or dare. Since we’re all living together now we figure we should know each other past just being classmates. And what better time than when none of us can lie.” Ashido gives him a bright smile. It does nothing to negate how Aizawa-sensei’s eyes darken at her every word.

“That,” he comments, “Sounds like a very dangerous activity, that could leave more than one student upset.” His arms are still crossed at his chest. 

“But Aizawa-sensei!”

“C’mon! It’s gonna be fun!”

“There’s nothing we haven’t all faced as a class anyway!”

Multiple complaints are raised from various of Midoriya’s classmates. 

Aizawa-sensei doesn’t say anything, but he does sigh. A long, suffering, eye-rolling sigh.

“Please?” Ashido asks.

“Fine.” He relents, and before anyone can cheer he cuts through his statement again. “But if you are doing this there needs to be regulations so that if someone does not want to answer a question they don’t have to.” 

Midoriya’s classmates look thoughtful at their teacher’s stipulation. Midoriya himself thinks about what Aizawa-sensei had said. 

“How about–” He pauses as all eyes turn on him. “What if we made it so that before you asked your question you had to ask if it was okay to ask your question…? Does that make sense?” Midoriya rubs at the back of his neck as multiple of his classmates cock their heads at him. He hardly realized he’d asked a question until a bunch of “No’s” were coming chorused from his friends. 

“Ah- what I meant was that if you wanted to ask someone what their favorite color was you first asked them something like ‘Is it okay to ask you what your favorite color is?’ and due to the honesty stipulation the person would have to say if they were truly okay answering the question without needing to answer the question due to the quirk.” 

Some people ‘Oh’d’ and some still looked confused but Midoriya looked at Aizawa-sensei who looked like he was thoroughly regretting being alive. He made eye contact with the man and Aizawa-sensei turned his head thoughtfully before saying, 

“That would ensure that no boundaries are crossed and that you could play the truth game. But even if you all do plan on playing, I will supervise. And if anyone I mean anyone ” he punctuates his last word with the activation of his quirk and flashes his gaze at each of Midoriya’s classmates, “tries to cross a line that someone is not comfortable crossing, then I have no issues putting you on cleaning duty for the rest of the year.” 

A few students gulped looking around warily, but it didn’t do much to deter the class and soon everyone was in a sort-of circle on the common room floor. Even those hesitant to participate were spurred on by the excitement of their classmates. And when Bakugou tried to leave Kirishima turned and asked him if he really wanted to go. Pretty much everyone stopped when Bakugou out loud admitted: 

“Not really, I like spending time with you guys even if you nerds can be stupid. But I have a reputation to uphold so I have to act like I don’t want to be here.” He turns a bright red and goes to leave but Ashido jumps up and grabs him from behind in an attack-hug. 

“Awwww Bakugou! You do have a heart!” She teases, but there’s no fire behind it– somehow Bakugou gets even redder, a scowl permanently resting on his face. It doesn’t do much since he’s practically the color of a tomato and he aggressively pushes Ashido off by her face, but he proceeds to sit down anyway. 

That breaks the tension set in by Aizawa-sensei and soon everyone is laughing because full truths are sometimes entire stories and sometimes barely coherent sentences. Midoriya is holding his belly in pain from laughing so hard as Sero recounted his most embarrassing story as asked by Uraraka. (Once okay-ed.)

“So,” Sero started, face a blinding red. “I was practicing my parkour moves with some of the older kids in the neighborhood. And well, I was twelve I think…?” He looks up consideringly. 

“Basically, I was at the age where I really wanted to look cool. So pretty much all that was important to me was impressing them. And yeah bros, I definitely did not impress them with the stunt I pulled.” He rubs at his neck embarrassedly, still colored as bright red as a traffic light. 

“So I was using the tape on my arms to, like, propel myself and like, pull myself up to do flips and stuff.” He mimed the action with his hands but it was still sorta vague. “And well I was laughing and they were looking pretty impressed so… I guess I got a little over-confident and y’know tried to do a flip that I definitely could not do.” 

“Oh my god what happened?” Ashido was leaning forward over her criss-crossed legs and Midoriya honestly didn’t know how she didn’t fall over. 

“Well, that’s the thing. So when I-” he buried his face in his hands “God, It’s kinda mortifying dudes. But I just- flailed? a little bit? in the air? So when I went to throw my tape to steady myself I accidentally,,, maybe, just a little bit, stuck it on one of the older kids' faces ???” He pushed his face even further into his hands as everyone began to laugh at the thought of Sero sticking tape on someone’s face after trying to impress them. 

“That’s not even the worst part!” He bemoaned. “Since I was practically hurtling at them at top speed I barreled into them and tied both of us together, bros.” He practically wailed in embarrassment. “Even worse than that! The other kids were laughing so hard no one helped us for like ten minutes, and when they did help us one kid had to run back to his house to grab scissors from his mom and we both had to wait longer for him to run back.” He was smiling through the embarrassment now. 

“God, I didn’t show my face around the neighborhood for weeks and even now I still avoid the kid that I taped myself to.” 

“Okay get me out of the hot seat now, I’m embarrassed enough as it is. Tokoyami!” Sero called out unceremoniously. “Okay, I’ve actually been dying to know this, is it okay if I ask you if you and Dark Shadow share thoughts? Like do you ever think ‘Oh I want some Ramen’ and Dark Shadow interrupts like ‘I want Tonkatsu?’ it’s been eating at me, man. Do you ever like brain-interrupt each other?”

Tokoyami seems taken aback for a minute and then holds his beak in what looks to be laughter. He tries to quickly regain his composure before nodding at Sero as an okay. Sero asks the question again, sans the first seven words and Tokoyami starts to explain. 

“No, we don't share thoughts. However, that notion is particularly humorous. If I were to speak aloud, however, Dark Shadow would have no issues interrupting me to insert their opinion.” It’s surprisingly succinct for the drawn-out stories that the others have been sharing. Still, others giggle and there is none of the previous tension in the air. 

Tokoyami then opened his mouth to ask the next person a question, but he was interrupted by Kirishima.

“Wait since that question was for both Tokoyami and Dark Shadow, who goes next? Is it Dark Shadow or Tokoyami?” He’s holding a hand out in front of himself like a Traffic cop and Midoriya would giggle at the position if his question wasn’t so thought-provoking. 

Tokoyami closes his beak and looks down at his lap introspectively. Around the room, several people murmur and turn to each other. Aizawa-sensei has a fond smirk tucked into his capture weapon. 

“Ooh, ooh!” Uraraka holds her hand up before looking around to realize there was no one to call on her. Embarrassed, but still enthused, she goes on to say; “What if they did a two-part question? Like whoever goes first gets to ask a question and whoever goes second gets a follow-up?” She smiles to herself as everyone nods and looks around. 

Once in agreement, Tokoyami opens his mouth again, “Asui, would you mind if I asked you two questions about your darkest secret?”

She puts a thoughtful hand on her chin, seemingly mulling it over before she opens her mouth with an “I wouldn’t mind, kero.” 

Tokoyami nods again and turns to her. “What is your darkest secret that you don’t regret? And that you wouldn’t mind sharing with us of course.” 

“Hmm, well it would probably be the time I gave two eight-year-olds trauma for bullying my younger siblings, kero.” All mouths dropped at the confession and nineteen heads turned to stare like she didn’t already have their attention. 

Various “What!?’s” were heard from around the room while other people stood stock still. That was still way too little to understand what had really happened, Midoriya reasoned. 

Luckily, Dark Shadow had all of their backs as they turned and asked Asui for the full story. 

“Well, I guess it all started when their Bento boxes would come home filled with dirt.” She shrugged. “My younger siblings and I are quite neat because of the bad reputation mutant quirks have for being ‘dirty animals.’” 

A few people looked angry at that statement. But, some others looked sheepish. Midoriya inwardly sighs at that. Intrinsic bias is hard to dispel, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

“Whenever I would clean their bento boxes out to make their lunch the next day they would be filled with flies and bugs and mud. Some of them are permanently grass-stained due to it. Then it was when they would try to hide their mutant traits. They tried to hide it pretty much any way they could. With gloves, or long pants or scarves in the dead of summer.” She looked down at her hands and everyone could see the sadness in her eyes. 

“I knew I had to step in when I walked in to find my little sister with a kitchen knife trying to cut the webbing out of her hands.” 

Gaps sounded and Midoriya caught a lump in his throat, no one– no kid should ever feel like they have to do that. Others were looking a little green, or in a few cases red. Even Aizawa-sensei looked ruffled. His capture weapon was angrily bunching up at his neck like spiked fur. 

“Anyway,” She plowed on, ignoring the reaction of her classmates. “I took it upon myself to stop whoever was getting it in my sibling’s heads that their quirks were bad. I had to tail them to class after middle school started and it’s the only absence blot on my record.” She says with no small amount of satisfaction. “I watched two little mean-spirited kids spout nasty words to my siblings and I knew I had to stop it. I guess this is where my imagination might’ve gone a little wild, kero.” 

A few people raised their eyebrows, still unbelieving that Tsuyu Asui could possibly traumatize kids. 

“I had been watching a lot more Western media and documentaries and I found one about these ‘Killer-Clowns’ that were popular, or, I guess feared for a few years in the 2000’s. I decided to get the roster from my parent’s e-mail and find where those two mean kids lived and scare the living quirkism out of them. It was pretty easy to get everything together. I told my parents I was doing a project on Halloween and they let me order anything I needed for the costume.” She was very nonchalant but Kaminari had pulled out his phone to look up what the killer clowns looked like and was waving the image silently pointing it around while Asui told her story. 

Many people paled upon seeing the images. 

“Once I had everything put together I crawled up to their windows at around 8:00 at night, just past bedtime. I knocked on the window and ribbited where they couldn’t see me, and once I had them spooked a little bit I jumped at the window with a fake knife covered in red acrylic paint. I used my frog mutation to widen my smile and I made sure to give them nightmares all while telling them to never discriminate again.” Asui looked pretty pleased with herself and Midoriya had to hold back the urge to clap. Others were holding back shivers. 

“Holy shit Tsu! I never knew you had it in you. I mean, like, I thought you and Midoriya were like the most innocent ‘wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly’ people!” Kaminari’s mouth was permanently dropped open and he was gawking at both Midoriya and Tsu. “I mean like- Deku what’s your darkest secret? Tell me it’s not something terrifying like that!” 

“SHIT, KAMINARI YOU CAN’T JUST–”

“Kami, no-”

“He has to answer now! You should’ve been more caref-”

“That was not considerate Kaminari! You must think before you-”

Midoriya’s throat constricts with effort and he can practically feel the bile rising in his chest. 

Oh God, All Might-sensei was going to be so mad! This was so, so bad. If the class knew he had One for All it would put even larger targets on their back than they already had. He’s hoping, praying that he can hold it down but it’s no use. 

This is it, this is the moment that all the cover he’s laid down goes to waste, he’s scrabbling at the carpet even as his face begins to purple. His throat was already starting to close and he was beginning to choke as the truth quirk did what it did best– pull out the truth. 

Before he can even think he blurts out:

“I catfished Kacchan on Discord for two years in middle school!”

Chapter Text

Jaws immediately drop and a few laughs are stifled. 

His hands immediately slap over his mouth and he gives a horrified look to Bakugou. There is no curling of relief in his gut over not revealing One for All. This was, he thinks, ten times worse. That’s probably what makes it his darkest secret, he wants to slap himself on the forehead but he’s worried that just moving will break the silent trance everyone is in. 

The shuffling tapers off as everyone seems to be processing what just happened. They’re all looking between him and Bakugou like it’s a tennis match. But oddly enough Kacchan appears to be uncharacteristically quiet. 

“That-” Kacchan's voice breaks as he looks up at Izuku, “That was you?” It’s still too quiet for Midoriya’s liking. 

He should be shouting, screaming, cursing, threatening– anything but the earnest and heartbroken look he receives. 

And suddenly he wants to die because that’s not what Kacchan was supposed to say. 

His mouth goes dry with the effort and he opens it– to do nothing. Because really, now what was Midoriya supposed to say? 

“That’s enough. Kaminari, a month of detention. I think this little game is over, everyone head back to your dorms.” Aizawa responds remorselessly. 

As if someone had turned off a juicy soap opera, everyone immediately protests. A few “No sensei!”-s were thrown around and some people groaned. 

Most shockingly, the worst response comes from Kirishima. 

“What! No, come on! We’ve been trying to hear about the relationship between Mido-bro and Bakubro all year! You can’t take this from us now!” He pleads as sensei looks unrepentantly at the class. “Not when Midoriya’s finally going to tell us about how he really feels about Bakugou, aren’t you Midoriya?” His gaze is pleading and he lets out a: “C’mon tell us!”

Ashido immediately smacks the back of his head. “You really are a blockhead you know? Even if he wanted to keep their relationship private, now they can’t because of you! You just told him he had to tell us!” 

Kirishima visibly pales, and he turns his head to apologize to Midoriya. But it, unfortunately, doesn’t stop the words that are already coming out of his mouth. 

He inhales a deep breath because unlike last time he’s pretty much accepted his fate. That’s the weird thing about this truth quirk, there’s no precursor to what is said. Midoriya doesn’t know what’s going to come out of his mouth just like his classmates. Not with a question that he doesn’t even think he knows the answer to. 

“Our relationship…? Well, to be completely honest, I don’t know how I feel.

If you had asked me a few years ago it wouldn’t be nearly as complicated. And if you had asked me when I was four it wouldn’t have been complicated at all. We grew up wanting to be heroes together, and, funnily enough, his hero name hasn’t changed at all since he first thought of it.

But we’re not four anymore. I’d like to think we stayed best friends throughout school but, looking back on it we really…weren’t. I hated him then, hated how mean he was– all the words he’d said to me, all of it. I wanted to believe we were friends but I couldn’t stop myself from hating him. 

When we both got into UA, well, I thought it would be the same. He would hate me, and I would hate him but I would still call him my best friend. 

That didn’t happen though, I’ve seen him change here, seen the good he’s done, and the people he cares about really worm their way into his heart. For the longest time, I wondered why they were able to, even though I was the one who had been persistent for years. 

I can see now how he’ll become one of the greatest heroes the world has ever seen. How he’s grown to be someone I admire, someone I trust, and someone I’d give my life for. Even still, I’ve thought about everything about our relationship and I’ve come to one conclusion:

I will care about Bakugou Katsuki until the day I die, but we haven’t been friends since that day in middle school where he told me to take a swan dive off the roof and pray for a quirk in the next life.” 

Wow, that was- he doesn’t- woah. 

He knew his feelings about Kacchan were… complicated, but he doesn’t even know if he wants to come to terms with the fact that he just broke the fifteen-year illusion of their friendship. He was surprisingly calm and well-thought-out in his explanation but all of that calmness is gone from him now. He kind of wants to rock himself and cry. 

Even though Midoriya has left himself in a stupor, the rest of his class is still blatantly shocked and appalled from around him. There’s yelling and accusations and with each new word thrown out, he feels himself shrink a little deeper into his arms and rock a little harder. He turns to find a familiar face to break himself out of his mini-dissociative episode and finds himself staring at Kacchan. 

He’s looking down at his hands and his face is curled into an ugly, ugly expression. He’s crying, is what Midoriya realizes belatedly. He’s made Kacchan cry, something he promised himself he’d never do when he was six. Kacchan had cried for making him bleed even though the teachers had praised him for the powerful explosion he’d shown. 

That is what finally breaks Midoriya Izuku. The expression is so heartbreaking that it physically hurts to see it on his face. He turns towards his teacher whose mouth is wide open and eyes widened in shock, and maybe a little hurt…? Either way, Izuku is undeterred, this- this fighting, he thinks, is pointless. Especially over a little incident that happened nearly two years ago. 

Izuku thinks that maybe it’s not such a little incident. After all, it was a truth quirk that made him share that. 

But that’s silly. He doesn’t need people to fight the battles of a quirkless nobody. Because that’s what he was, and that was everything everyone had taught him to be, regardless of who he is now. 

“Hey. That’s enough.” Izuku stands and murmurs out. 

The shouts don’t stop all at once, but even though it’s gradual, it’s quick. Everyone is silently turned towards Izuku once they’ve ensured their neighbor stopped talking. 

When all eyes are on Izuku he readies himself to speak again, just to get cut off. 

“What-” The voice cuts off like they can’t bring themself to say it. “What did you mean by ‘take a swan dive off the roof?’”

Izuku wants to be angry, wants to be burned raw, that everything inside of him is being ripped from him and bared naked for his classmates to gawk at. He wants to, but he can’t. Because the way Aizawa-sensei sounds so broken at that thought burns him worse. 

Aizawa-sensei seems to come back to himself a few moments later. His eyebrows raise at his own actions, and he’s quick in trying to stop Izuku from answering- from having to answer, but the quirk doesn’t work like that and he knows it. Izuku had never seen his teacher this broken up before- not in all of his time risking his life for them has Aizawa-sensei ever been this devastated at something.

Izuku doesn’t like that, he shouldn’t apologize. It means more than anything that his teacher cares about him. He hasn’t had a teacher care about him like that... ever. And– it’s not right. Not right that he doesn’t know how good he is to Izuku. All of them don’t know how good they are. They don’t know. 

Maybe–

Maybe this is important. 

His throat is burning with effort. He has been asked a question and he has not answered yet. His teacher is still trying to negate the effects of the quirk and he needs to- he heaves- he needs to let Aizawa-sensei know that this is not his fault. That it is better this way. That his classmates learn how rare they are, and how he cares about each of them because they’re all his friends and he’s never had any of those before. 

So, he rasps out, “N-not your fault. ‘S important to-” Another bout of wheezing comes from his raw throat. “To tell you all. I shhh–shoulda’ told you guys a- a long time ago.” He’s doubled over from where he was standing, clawing at his neck, not unlike Shigaraki. 

When he finally finishes his meager attempt to hold the quirk back, he falls to his knees and allows the words to spill out of his mouth one more time. 

The switch from “words” to “truth” is jarring. Spluttered coughing and hoarse sounds become normal speech, it’s softer though, the effects of his fighting evident in his scratchy voice. 

“When I was six, I came home with scrapes on my knees every single day.” Izuku begins. “We went through bandages upon bandages, and after a while, we ran out of money to keep buying the Pro-hero branded ones. I think that was the first time I ever felt like a burden. My Mom apologized profusely.” He doesn’t know why he starts here, he does anyway. 

“When I was seven, I learned that if I hid the bruises and scratches from her, and told her I had the best day ever, her brow would un-crinkle. And I thought- I thought if I could make it through the day, and have them target my stomach I wouldn’t have to worry her.” He lets out a shaky breath and continues like the quirk demands. 

“When I was eight I learned how to do most first-aid on myself. I learned that my teddy bear couldn’t feel it when I practiced on him, and my bandages would be tighter when I had to do them on myself.” His lip is wobbling, and he can feel more than he can see through his watery eyes. 

“When I was nine, I learned that hospitals won’t take patients like me.” 

He feels a shift in his story, this is already more than he wants to say. All this quirk seems to do is take from him.

take. take. take. 

“The worst day of my life wasn’t the day I was attacked by a villain when I was fourteen. It wasn’t when our whole class was targeted at the USJ, it wasn’t the Training camp or Kacchan getting kidnapped. No, the worst day of my life was when I was four. My mother held me in her arms as I cried. She-” His voice breaks for the first time and he knows that it won’t be the last. “She wouldn’t stop apologizing to me. Apologizing for me being alive. For giving birth to me– apologizing to me because I existed .” 

Take Take Take

“My father left the very next day. I have never seen him since. I know it was my fault, my mom knows it. The neighbors know it. Everyone who knew who- what I was, knew it. My mother would never blame me for that, but that doesn’t mean nobody did. Whispers would fall through the cracks, and kids would overhear their parents. They never let me forget I was the reason my father left. 

At least he had the decency to leave though. Not everyone did. I spent nearly every day of my childhood being told that I was scum, that I was worthless, that out of everything and everyone in the world I was the worst. To this day, I still can’t find it in me to tell them that they’re wrong.”

TakeTakeTake

“It wasn’t just kids either. I have never had a teacher look at me with anything more than barely hidden disgust. Not since my preschool teacher. Never, until now. 

I learned that rules don’t apply to me. Like free lunches aren’t free, bathroom privileges aren’t a right, and the bullying policies don’t apply. I spent years watching other kids build up the courage to tell the teacher that a kid was hurting them and get help. I spent years wondering what was so wrong with me that I wasn’t deserving of the same.”

He laughs a broken and hollow laugh, 

“Hell, when I met All Might the first time he left me all alone on a rooftop– after,” More desperate giggles leave his chest. “After I asked him if I could be a hero just as I was. He told me to ‘be realistic.’ How could I have ever been hopeful after the Number One hero himself, told me to give up?”

TAKETAKETAKE

“So when I said ‘take a swan dive off the roof and pray for a quirk in the next life’- what I meant was something that has been said to me hundreds of times before. Not all in the same words, but with the same meaning.”

He takes a small breath as if that will help him regain his strength to say it.

“At first they were afraid of breaching the subject. So they’d leave spider lilies on my desk and hope I knew what they meant. Then there were the newspaper articles– always ‘another suicide was committed.’ And then it was just another taunt they threw around at me in the hallways.”

He shudders. 

“Null. Useless. Deku. 

Quirkless.”

“Kill yourself.”

He’s crying in earnest now. Everything spilling from his lips like word vomit with the cadence of a secret. 

“You guys are the first people to ever treat me like I’m somebody. And I know, I know it’s because I have a quirk now, but I can’t help but thank you all for showing me what it’s like to be cared about. And the truth is now that- now that I know what this is like…”

TAKE TAKE TAKE

“I could never live the way I used to without following Kacchan’s advice.” 

Dry heaves leave his mouth, and he feels traitorous hands reach out to touch him- to comfort him. He shoves them away as he stands up. This isn’t– that’s not why he told them. (Not that he had a choice, he thinks bitterly.)

The quirk has gone from his lungs, and it's apparent that every word after is his own. He's weeping and blubbering, each time he speaks it's broken between sobs and heaving, leaving him a stuttering mess. 

Katsuki places a hand on his shoulder from behind him and Izuku curls into his side. 

“I-I’m not telling you all this to make you f-feel guilty.” He swallows around his resolve. “Y-you all mean s-so much to me. Y-you’ve given me a place here th-that I’ve never had before. I just wanted you all to know h-how much you’ve done. I have friends a-and I’ve never had that before. I have a teacher ” his voice breaks on the word, “th-that actually cares about me. Wh-when I become a hero, I want the world to know-” a sob choked down in his throat. “I want the world to know what it was like for me.” 

And the realization comes as a shock to even Izuku. It rings true nonetheless. But somehow, unbelievably, he’s not done yet. 

“I n-need the world to know that a hero- one that saves people– and protects them, was on-once the useless scum of the earth they looked down on. A-and I guess I never realized h-how much I was holding it in. I was quirkless until I was fourteen, so I’ll never forget who the world th-thought I was before then. I c-can only hope to become something that proves to others th-that I was never-” The word is hot on his tongue and he wants to spit it out as much as he wants to choke it down. “-Useless.” 

He’s done, he finally thinks. This is everything he can give them, everything he can bear in front of them, and hope he’s treated gently. 

Screams of protest, anguish, and agreement are spilling from the lips of all his classmates. Pity is among the most common. People are yelling and shouting, and the only common words he can pick up– the only common question being thrown at him is. 

“What about Katsuki?” 

And maybe it’s the way he’s tucked safely in the blond’s grasp or the fact that they don’t actively seem to be fighting each other, but the only thing Izuku can do is sigh. Because of course, in a story all about him, “What about Katsuki?”

“How is he even still here if all he is, is a fucking Bully?” 

And oh, Kirishima seems to want to hit him where it hurts, because Izuku can feel Kacchan stiffen from behind him. And the way they all turned on him so fast almost makes his head spin- because on one hand, they care. They know about his old quirk status and they’re still angry, but not at him, on his behalf. But on the other hand, the way they turned on Kacchan makes his blood boil because that’s exactly like how they had turned on him after his diagnosis. Ignoring all of the facts– like the fact that they’ve known Kacchan since the beginning of the year- they know him, and yet they’re acting like he hasn’t changed -like they haven’t watched him change.

“Kacchan was the first person to treat me like a person.” He spits out, angry on Katsuki’s behalf. Truth, once again pulled from a hollow in his chest, with buried semi-indignant rage hot on its heels.

And of course, that’s not enough because his traitorous mouth is opening again. 

“Kacchan has known me since before I was ever quirkless. Since I was diagnosed, and since everyone treated me like I was second-rate scum. Yes, he was one of those people, but he’s also the only person who knew I used to be quirkless in this class. He was the first person to realize that being quirkless wasn’t a defect of mine, that it wasn’t something that made me lesser. Yeah, it took him a long time to find out, but he was the only person to know and who learned that quirkless wasn’t useless. I didn’t have to spell it out for him, not that he would have listened to me anyway, but he learned. Can you all tell me that if you had grown up being praised for the quirk you had, and watching others condemn the one kid who didn’t, you wouldn’t have treated me all the same? Can you honestly say that?” 

He tilts his head towards the ceiling, only one thought running through his mind: God, everything hurts. 

“And he’s apologized to me, again and again. He told me- he told me that he’d make up for it in any way that he could. And I know he will; because once I learned that ‘sorry’ couldn’t give me a quirk, I knew what it meant. Just like ‘sorry’ couldn’t give me a quirk, ‘sorry’ can’t take away all of my burn scars. ‘Sorry’ is useless to me and he hasn’t stopped at that.” 

And it’s the end of his last explanation, and he’s done, tired, exhausted. He’s got nothing left to present them and it shows as he weakly tells them:

“No more questions please, I can’t handle anymore tonight.” 

At that, a switch seems to be flipped in his teacher. As soon as the words leave his mouth Aizawa-sensei is up, shooing students away, and glaring at the ones who linger too long. This isn’t over, Izuku thinks. Everyone knows now, and something (besides him) has to give. As much as he wants to get this over with- to rip off the band-aid, he doesn’t have it within him, not today. 

Izuku makes no move to go back to his dorm, and just as well since, even though Aizawa-sensei is standing in front of him like a guard dog, he’s also blocking his path with unconcealed glances back towards him. 

Kacchan stands at his side as well, with a hand still steadying him on his shoulder. 

“Midoriya,” Aizawa-sensei’s voice is unwaveringly soft as he turns and looks Izuku in the eye.

Still, it does nothing to stop his flinch as his teacher's rumble breaks the silence, tense as it may have been. He looks back at his teacher, hoping to convey the bone-deep tiredness, and the reluctance to answer any more questions. 

Aizawa-sensei must see something in his pleading eyes because his eyebrows furrow minutely and he sighs. “It’s okay, I won’t ask you any more questions tonight, but you know we will have to talk about this eventually.” His voice is still unrecognizably soft in the stillness of the empty common room. 

Izuku’s head falls down bonelessly, and he nods with zombie-like movements. 

“Bakugou, back to your dorm. We’ll need to have our own conversation about tonight, but I think all of us need to rest now.” Resignation is evident in his tone. 

There’s something unreadable in Kacchan’s expression as he squeezes Izuku’s shoulder, and then steels himself up the stairs. 

Izuku goes to follow him, but Aizawa-sensei’s hand falls onto the shoulder that’s still warm from Kacchan’s hand. His teacher takes another deep breath, closing his eyes and shuddering on the exhale. 

Aizawa-sensei looks back up at him. “I want you to spend the night in the teacher’s dorm.” 

He’s back to his usual tactless self, but something seems to have softened in him. ( Shattered, but Izuku didn’t need to know that.) 

“Why?” Izuku asks quietly before answering his own question a mere seconds later. “I guess people will want to interrogate me after they think you’ve gone to bed, huh?” He says with an air of disbelief. 

“No.” Aizawa-sensei looks a little startled at his suggestion. “That’s not the reason,” he reiterates. “Kid, you just openly admitted to being suicidal ten minutes ago. I need-” Something softens ( Shatters ) in him again, and he straightens from where he’d been reaching out for Izuku’s other shoulder. “It’s protocol to make sure you’re not going to be a danger to yourself if I leave you alone. I have to make sure you’re safe .” 

Something wells up in Izuku again. Nobody has ever tried to make sure Izuku was safe from himself. Nobody who knew. Nobody had cared enough, and here’s the first teacher in a long time to treat him like a human, actively worried about him– enough to want to keep an eye on him. 

All he can really muster up is a quiet, “ okay .” 

The walk back to his dorm to collect his things is quiet, and unobtrusive in a way he hadn’t been expecting. He feels so mentally drained from nearly every secret he’s ever had being drawn from him he can’t do more than shuffle his feet a few steps behind his teacher. 

It’s then that something occurs to him. One for All. Out of everything that he’s said today, One for All is still his secret. And it seems insane, crazy even, that out of every secret he’s shared today the arguably most important one, is still his. 

He gives a disbelieving half-chuckle that turns into peels of laughter. It makes him sound more insane than a few of his excerpts from his Middle School journals. 

Maybe he would have preferred a One for All reveal to everything he’s said today, even if he thought some of it was important. But, he won’t get in trouble with All Might and no National Security has been challenged. 

Aizawa-sensei is looking at him like he’s the most insane person he’s ever seen.

His teacher reaches for Izuku with a concerned look, and Izuku has to shake his head as he finishes his psychotic break with a half-snort. 

Once he’s settled again, they move forward with no words. Though, Aizawa-sensei does look back at him with concerned glances more often. Which, for Aizawa-sensei, just means you can see the corner of his eyes peeking at you every so often, and only if you’re quick enough. 

They reach his dorm not long after that, and Izuku goes in, he moves to shut his door while he gathers his things but his teacher puts a hand out to stop him. 

He’s careful not to break the comfortable silence they’ve established. One, because he doesn’t think he can maintain talking with his low energy levels, and two, because it almost feels sacred. Like the peace after a villain attack, when you’ve fought hard so that you can finally be safe to exist again. So, in light of that, he tilts his head curiously in a silent ask. 

Aizawa-sensei just gives him a hard look, and he almost flushes in embarrassment. Oh, yeah, suicide watch. Or whatever the equivalent to being past suicidal, but still may be thought to be a danger to yourself by your teacher, is. 

He nods and leaves the door open, and Aizawa-sensei turns around to stand guard. It gives him some minimal privacy and cements how much the man cares about him. It makes him truly flush this time as he grabs what he thinks he might need for an overnight stay in the teacher’s dorms. 

Once his stuff is all packed away into a miniature All Might-themed duffel, he turns back to his teacher, nods, and walks out of his dorm. 

The walk to the teacher's dorm is equally as silent as the one to his dorm. Izuku feels exhausted and drained in a way he hasn’t felt in years. Despite the moment of laughter he had earlier he still feels unbelievably numb. Like he had a moment of respite that broke through the slowly rebuilding shell. 

He wants to feel a lot of things right now, like fear, for his place in the hero course (even if he thinks Aizawa-sensei would never do that) or if word of this is going to get back to his mom and he’ll have to explain some things to her. Maybe shame, for crying so hysterically and spilling his guts out to people who never asked for that (but they never left either) or for the way Aizawa-sensei keeps looking back at him as if to reassure himself that Izuku is still there. For making his teacher go out of his way to look after Izuku. 

(But a traitorous part of himself says something like: none of your other teachers ever did this before, if he didn’t want to keep you safe he wouldn't've.)

God, he wants to feel all of those things, but he’s so drained. So exhausted that he knows he’s swaying on his feet. 

When they reach the dorms Aizawa-sensei knocks a pattern onto the door. He doesn’t have the energy to think what that could mean, just that it probably means something. It’s not as if Aizawa-sensei doesn’t have a key. Which, the man proves a moment later by pulling out said key and ushering Izuku in. 

The common room is vacant and looks more like a lobby than anything else. It’s homey despite all of that, but the furniture is still obviously the same that UA bought for all of the other dorms as well. Aizawa-sensei corrals him to the elevator, where instead of floor numbers the buttons have teachers' names. The teacher pulls out his Hero-ID and scans it. The elevator starts moving. Once they reach what is supposedly Aizawa-sensei’s apartment, the door slides out of the way to reveal a large open-plan apartment. Directly in front of him sit twin couches parallel to the TV, with a large chair- almost loveseat, in the middle a few feet back of them. The kitchen is blocked from view by a tall counter connected to the wall on his left, with barstools sat up against them. But from what he can see it’s a comfortable size with a large U-shaped countertop. There are a few doors shut on the back wall, and one to the left side just passed the kitchen. 

Aizawa-sensei motions him to the couch. He practically flops onto the closest one. 

“Okay kid, The guest bedroom is the furthest door to the right on the back wall. You’ve had a pretty emotional day, so we’ll talk about everything tomorrow.” Aizawa-sensei starts as he settles onto the couch opposite Izuku. Izuku nods back at his teacher, eyes drooping with effort.

“The only thing I need from you kid, is for you to be honest with me,--”

“Aizawa-sensei, I couldn’t lie if I tried to right now.” Maybe out of anyone else’s mouth, it would be snarky, but the pure fatigue in Izuku’s voice can’t be considered anything more than pathetic. 

“Even still,” Aizawa-sensei argues back. “If anyone could think themselves out of a truth quirk it would be you, Problem Child.” It’s almost fond, the way he says it. 

“But I need to know, I need to. If there’s a chance at all that you’re a danger to yourself right now, please tell me.” Aizawa-sensei’s tone takes on nearly the same heartbreaking one as before and it brings back the lump in Izuku’s throat. 

“I’m not. Not a danger to myself.” Izuku clarifies in the silence of his teacher’s apartment. “Not intentionally at least.” He swallows around his own words. Before he opens his mouth to keep speaking, to plead his case. 

“I know what it looks like- when I throw myself into danger. But I don’t want-” he struggles with the thoughts and the proper way to say them. “I don’t want to hurt myself, and I don’t want to die.”

Like a whisper, like a secret, Izuku says:

“I just want to save people.

All I’ve ever wanted to do was save people.” 

And like he’s just been given the secret of life, Aizawa-sensei whispers back, with the reverence of understanding,

“Okay.” 

Then, once more, “We’ll talk about everything in the morning.” 

And he motions Izuku off to bed.

Chapter Text

Middle School Izuku had been an idiot, he decided. 

Having to stand face to face with Katsuki and explain what he did, and why, was going to be the most mortifying thing he’s ever done. Scratch that, explaining this to Kacchan is going to be the most mortifying thing he’s ever done and probably will ever do. Fuck closure, he just wants to get out of here. 

So far all they’ve done is just sit on opposite couches and fidget, neither wanting to continue the silence, but no one willing to break it. 

Kacchan had always been the braver of the two of them. 

“I just–” He exhales shakily. “I just want to know why. I mean, was all of that shit that you said to me true? And, -and if you knew it was me, why did you even say all of that?” He looks so earnest that Izuku has to look away after a few seconds. Katsuki wrings his hands on his jeans absentmindedly, rubbing at his palms like he can feel the sweat building there. (Izuku hates that he still knows those mannerisms, and still feels like he has to look for them.)

“It- It wasn’t like that. I just,” Izuku exhales frustratedly. How do you explain to someone you used to hate, but don’t hate anymore, that you wanted them to hurt inside the way you hurt inside– but didn’t exactly want to be the cause of it, because you didn’t actually hate hate them? 

Yeah, not like that, that’s for sure.

“I was just so angry at you.” Izuku finally decides. He’s not sure if it’s the right thing to say. He almost wishes the truth quirk was still in effect because, for as much trouble as it caused, it was never afraid to pull out Izuku’s feelings. And it definitely didn’t think about what it made him say unlike what he’s having to do now. “You were something everyone adored– someone I used to adore, but instead of living up to everyone’s expectations, you,” He huffs again, “You used all of that power that people gave you, to hurt me.” And he did, Izuku thinks. The most prominent of his scars lay on his shoulder in a bright starburst design with little sparks patterned around from where they flecked off of the original explosion.

“Izuku, I-”

“No.” Izuku cuts him off, “No, it’s fine.” Izuku says, but then thinks better of himself and adds on, “Well, it’s not fine but just let me finish anyway, okay?” 

Katsuki nods at him, and Izuku prepares himself. 

“I didn’t plan on catfishing you at first.” The statement sounds silly coming out of his mouth, he almost wants to laugh at the seriousness of both of them when their topic is so… juvenile . 

“It was, well, it was obviously you on that message board. I mean who else would be MightyExpl0d0GodMurderSm@sh ?” He lets out an aborted chuckle while Katsuki snorts wholeheartedly. 

“But then you didn’t recognize me. And you thought I was cool . And originally, all I’d wanted was to get back into your good graces. Just, let you see me without seeing me, y’know? I thought,” He breaks off dejectedly, the emotions he’s referencing are some he remembers intimately. The sadness, hope, despair…resignation. “I thought that if you saw someone worth hanging out with, and it turned out that it was me… maybe-, maybe you would see me as someone worth having around again.” The mood sobers again quickly. 

“I was going to come clean about the whole thing, but then I caught you talking about me– well, my account- to your friends.” Izuku pauses and tilts his head. “Lackeys, I mean.” 

Katsuki looks sheepish at that, but not quite ashamed. Izuku figures it’s the most he’ll get, in that regard. 

“And you sounded so– so reverent. You talked like I was actually someone to admire. I’d never heard you talk about anyone but All Might like that, and– and about me? I was so caught up in being awed at you that I didn’t even notice you sneak up on me.” 

Izuku sighed again, but Katsuki leaned forward, listening like each word out of Izuku’s mouth could be the last. 

“I guess that you were mad I caught you talking about something you actually cared about because that day you were so angry. Angrier than you’d been at me in a long time, and you just–” 

Izuku worked himself up with his own words because his breaths were coming out harsher and his voice had cracked and tapered off again. 

“You just started hitting me." Izuku's voice cracks out. "And that wouldn’t have been different from usual except you had your lackeys hold me down while you did it, and I couldn’t– I couldn’t protect myself, especially not from you–- not like that.” He’s whispering in the silence of the room, and he doesn’t even know if Kacchan can still hear him, but he doesn’t interrupt so Izuku keeps going. 

“I walked home with bruised ribs that day, but what really hurt was the way you told me,” He gulps as if preparing himself for his own words. “You said, ‘a Deku like you doesn’t have a damn redeeming quality, just give up while I’m still willing to show you where you belong.’ It made me so angry to think about. The fact that you could sing my praises as long as you didn’t know it was me . So, I decided if the only way I could hurt you was to fake being your friend on Discord," He swallows, "I decided that that’s what I was going to do.” 

Katsuki looks broken at his words. But it’s not Izuku’s job to play to Katsuki’s feelings anymore. (He still wants to, God knows he still wants to.)

Izuku pauses again, he still feels like he needs to explain himself more, but it hurts– these words hurt. They leave a hollow feeling in his chest when he recalls them. It’s something akin to shame because he’s ashamed at what he did but the memories aren’t far away enough that he can’t remember the feelings either. He remembers the anger and the ache of someone you love treating you like you didn’t ever deserve their love in the first place. 

“I wanted to be your friend, to get close to you and build you up,” Izuku makes large gestures with his arms, “Make grand promises that I never meant to keep, and then tell you that you were never worth my time and block you- or something.” His arms go back to their place on his sides and rub at the fabric of the couch.

“I dunno, I wanted to do what you did to me, I guess.” He concludes awkwardly.

“It was hard at first, because I didn’t really know what about me drew you to think so highly of me. You had me second-guessing every post I made for months at a time. And when we finally got to private messaging? I was so scared you’d know it was me and I’d come to school to find a beating I’d never forget.” Izuku can’t meet his eyes anymore. He’s not sure if it’s shame from his admissions or if he’s still fighting the human instincts to never look a predator in the eyes. Neither thought makes him feel better. 

“I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand like that– and for that, I’m,” The words are weak in his throat, “I’m sorry.” It still feels weird to be the one apologizing to Kacchan for once. 

The silence rings around again and this time Izuku knows it’s shame keeping him from catching Kacchan’s eyes. 

“I thought you died.” Kacchan says after a few minutes.

It’s the most he’s said since this whole conversation started. The pit in his chest burrows deeper. 

“I know,” Izuku still can’t look at him. “But I couldn’t make myself go through with it.” So he starts explaining again.

“When I originally planned to befriend you I didn’t expect for you to ask me out. I mean I pretended like I was a high school student fast-tracking a degree in quirk theory for God’s sake! All I had meant to do was seem like a smart, cool, older kid who you could look up to for advice and stuff, I never meant to take it so far that you would– I dunno crush on me!? ” Izuku’s exasperated now, throwing his hands up in confusion. This whole thing has been a roller coaster of emotions and he feels so drained. 

“But it would’ve stopped my plans to have said no, and when you messaged me asking that day you had been meaner than usual, looking back now it’s probably because you were anxious about my response, but it just cemented the idea in my head that you needed to be knocked down some, so- yeah, I said yes.” Izuku is mumbling his words again and speaking in that too-fast tone he takes when he’s nervous. 

“But you got better over the time I ‘dated’ you.” Izuku puts “dated” in air quotes because, even if it was him behind all of the messages to Kacchan, they weren’t really dating. “And it felt nice, to have someone treat me kindly too.” Izuku admits in low tones. 

“Even if you didn’t know it was me I looked forward to our messages, you,” Izuku struggles with the words. “You were nice to me, treated me like I had something to say -like I actually brought something to the table. You treated me like I was someone worth listening to for once. And it was kind of amazing to know that not only was someone being nice to me, but it was Kacchan .” Izuku puts special emphasis on the name, he hopes it means as much to Kacchan as it does to him. 

“But after two years I just couldn’t justify it anymore,” Izuku meets Kacchan’s desperate eyes. His eyes seem to say all that he can’t, they plead with Izuku and he has to look away. 

“I don’t even know why,” He says desperately, “it was just like a flip had switched in me one day, and I realized that it had been far too long to drag this out and have it mean nothing. At least, for it to mean nothing to me anymore.” 

“I thought you died.” Kacchan repeats again, and with that look in his eyes, Izuku can’t help but start to cry. 

“ I know .” Izuku says finally. “But what did you want me to do?” Izuku pleads right back. 

“You couldn’t have expected me to come clean could you?” It’s almost angry, how Izuku accuses him. Almost. More resigned than anything. 

“I would never have been able to tell you about this, not back then. You would have actually killed me.” The way Izuku emphasizes the word shows just how much he believes that to be true. 

“ I thought you died! ” Kacchan growls out again. “Goddamnit Izuku! Fuck I thought you died and I-” Angry tears spill out of his eyes. He’s halfway off the couch when he realizes Izuku is cowering into the other couch and something akin to hurt flashes across Kacchan’s face. 

He takes a deep breath and lowers himself back onto his own couch. 

“I was terrified when you stopped messaging me.” Kacchan admits. “I was worried something happened to you, worried that maybe I’d scared you off. But then you just,” He takes a shuddering huff. 

“You just, fell off the face of the earth.” Kacchan wrings his hands again. “And when I checked all of the usual message boards and fan pages and channels where you usually posted and you- you hadn’t, well, people started to make assumptions. They assumed you’d gotten caught up in a villain fight with how much footage you used to post, and they–”

Izuku gets up and sits next to him on his couch. 

“I don’t know who started it.” Kacchan says quietly, “But someone posted that you were in the hospital after getting too close to a fight. Everyone started posting well wishes and shit and I felt like an ass for expecting a text back.” 

“But then you didn’t come back after a few weeks and I was just so damn worried,” Kacchan’s voice breaks on the last word, and Izuku takes his hand. “So, when people started saying that you had died I fucking- I couldn’t handle it. I was helpless to save you and I, I know it just made me worse to you. The real you, anyway.” Kacchan looks into his eyes earnestly and Izuku looks back. He remembers. 

He remembers the weeks after he logged off, deactivated all of his accounts, and deleted all of his apps. He remembers Kacchan’s anger burning brighter than he’d ever seen it, feeling it burn brighter than he’d ever felt it. 

“You meant a lot to me Izuku, and I’m not gonna pretend that that shit was cool, but I also know I never would’ve been able to handle it being you behind the screen.” Kacchan’s earnest words hit him hard. 

“You were- you were my one friend. The only person I’d considered having next to me. You were worth so much to me, and I really fuckin’ cared about you.” He says angrily, growling at the ground, no longer looking Izuku in the eyes. 

“Kacchan-”

“No, it’s my turn to talk now.” He snarls out, still clutching Izuku’s hand like a lifeline.

“You were this cool, unbelievable person. So damn smart that you could break down quirks in a second and you did everything you did with such fuckin’ adoration that I couldn’t help but want to turn your attention to me.” Kacchan squeezes his hand and some flush enters his cheeks. 

“And then you did, and it was amazing. Because not only were you smart, but you were cool and older and nice. You were nice to me even though I was brash and rude in messages and you took no time helping me with my shit just because I asked.” 

And then he says something that finally clues Izuku in, “You just helped me, you didn’t call me weak or stupid for not knowing something. You didn’t act like I had everything figured out just because I was powerful and had a strong quirk. You didn’t make me feel dumb for being a normal kid.” Kacchan whispers in the silence of the room. 

His hand shakes in Izuku’s as he says, “You told me that I had the makings of a great hero and you meant, ‘You Katsuki have the makings of a great hero’ and not, ‘Explosion is a great quirk for heroics.’” 

Kacchan looks into Izuku’s eyes and then looks away. 

“But you, you were so hesitant and dismissive of yourself and I thought,” He swallows, “I thought, ‘I’m gonna be the greatest damn hero this world has ever seen, and if you were by my side then you’d have to be pretty fucking great too.’ And I don’t know, I thought I could make you believe that too, but you just kept saying shit.” Kacchan huffs with no real anger behind it. 

“What do you mean?” Izuku asks, confusion littering his tone. 

“You- you mean you weren’t doing it on purpose?” Kacchan looks at him with mild shock gracing his features. 

“Doing what?” Izuku finally snaps, confused and worried if this was the reaction his texts garnered. “All I did was text you how I thought a normal person would text someone they’re dating.” 

“When you would put yourself down like that, and talk about how much you hated yourself and thought you were a burden– that, that wasn’t an act?” Kacchan pulls his hand away from Izuku’s like it’s burned him, “You really believed normal people felt that way? …That often, too?” 

Izuku clutches his hand to his chest, on the defensive again, he snarls, “It’s not like you ever taught me anything different.” He regrets it as soon as it’s out of his mouth. 

“Kacchan, wait that’s not what I meant-” He starts, before he’s cut off again by incredulous laughter. 

It’s humorless, the chuckles that come out of Kacchan’s chest. When they taper off again he looks down, “I guess I didn’t, did I?” 

Izuku wants to refute it, but he can’t because it would be a lie and Kacchan knows that too. 

More silence sits between them, this time heavier than it had been before. There are no more secrets now, everything is out in the open again. 

Kacchan finally sucks in a breath. “You don’t feel this way anymore right?” 

Izuku lets out a small smile, “No Kacchan, I don’t. I haven’t in a long time, and you were one of the people that helped, you know that right?” 

Kacchan doesn’t look like he believes him, so Izuku forces Kacchan to look at him. When he does, he pulls Kacchan into his arms. Kacchan squeezes back like he’s really seeing him for the first time. 

“You were the only one who truly saw me, all of me.” Izuku whispers into his ear from their embrace, “Uraraka and the others gave me the friendship that I’ve never had before, and I’ll never be able to thank them enough, but you knew me. You knew I was still quirkless and pushed me anyway. You were the person who always knew I could do better, I could be giving more. You and All Might gave me a home to settle my quirklessness as a part of me that I didn’t have to be ashamed of. With you, it’s just a part of who I am. I am Deku, no matter if it’s with a quirk or without.” 

Kacchan snorts as if he’s said something funny. 

“You and your damn All Might obsession.” He shakes his head where it’s resting on Izuku’s shoulder, “I really should be asking if I can catch up to him, in your eyes.” 

Izuku laughs with him as they pull apart. 

“Let’s be heroes together again, Kacchan.”