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What they don’t tell you about a crime scene is how long it takes for police to arrive.
Katsuki waited fifteen minutes for police to arrive. Fifteen minutes of looking at the body, of getting covered in blood, of performing useless CPR.
As he sat on the curb, waiting for his parents to come pick him up, he overheard the reason for the cops lateness:
“Just another suicide. Probably for the best. Poor kid was quirkless.”
Katsuki threw up after that.
* * *
“I know you don’t want to be late on your first day, but do you need to go so early? You haven’t even had breakfast, son.”
He shucked on his shoes. They were red. Matched his eyes.
“I had a protein bar.”
Masaru frowned. “Okay. At least tell your mother good-bye.”
Katsuki was already opening the door when he stopped midway. He didn’t look at his father.
“We both know she doesn’t want to talk to me. Bye.”
* * *
His first day was quiet.
Not that people didn’t try to talk to him, he just ignored them. Spoke only if he had to. No matter what compliment was thrown at him, what jab at his demeanor, he remained silent.
“You’re just the quiet type, huh?” The kid with red hair—Kirishima, he thought, at least bother to remember their names—asked him.
He shrugged.
“That’s cool. Quiet and mysterious. Just like a real hero.”
Whoa, you’re like, a real, real hero, Kacchan!
His stomach rolled. He threw up when he got home.
Katsuki decided to keep his distance from Kirishima.
* * *
When he finally met All Might, he wouldn’t look the man in his eyes.
“We’ll be in teams! Heroes versus villians!”
He was a villain. Fitting.
It was him and Iida versus Uraraka and the kid with the tail. He made a note to study the class seating arrangement again so he could remember their names.
“Bakugou-san, I know you are the withdrawn type, but I believe that communication is key to winning this fight. The most successful villains are the ones who are organized. It’s how they can survive so long.”
A voice in the back of his head that he hadn’t been able to crush completely snarled about not needing nobody’s help.
“He’s a close range fighter and her quirk is useless without something to float. I’ll keep him at bay and you prevent any debris from reaching her.”
Iida seemed a little stunned by Bakugou’s tone. Katsuki wondered how much surprised he would be if he had seen the boy only less than a year ago.
“What a quick analysis! You’ve got an eye for strategy, Bakugou-san!”
“Thanks.”
The word felt foreign in his mouth. He never said thank you. Never felt gratitude or appreciation, only pride.
A few minutes passed as both parties waited for the other to strike. He wondered if maybe the other team had been strategizing as well. Their chances seemed low to win but anything could happen if they could work well together, like Iida had pointed out.
“I must admit, while I know that this is only for the assignment, I do feel a sense of guilt pretending to be a villain. It is hard to imagine being in their shoes.”
Not for me.
“I suppose even villains are people too.”
He did not reply.
* * *
The villains had won. His plan was effective. In the end, it had just been about outlasting.
Tail kid had been pretty much down for the count from his first encounter with Bakugou, but she had been different. She had almost managed to blindside them, opting to try and tap him instead of the debris. If she had managed to hit him, it might have worked to her advantage, but unfortunately, he was too quick for that. Still, it was a good plan.
Afterwards, the pairs had congratulated each other on a job well done, same as the rest of the class.
“You were amazing, Bakugou!” Kirishima told him. He just shrugged. The boy still made him uncomfortable.
“Yeah, but I almost had you! If I had just jumped a couple seconds sooner!” Uraraka stamped her foot angrily but her smile betrayed her playfulness.
She looked right into his eyes for a second and he lost his train of thought.
When I get my quirk then I’ll finally be able to be a hero with you!
Before he could even say something, her new friends were whisking her off to talk.
He thought of the girl: Uraraka Ochako. She was sweet but there was something in her eyes that spoke to her perseverance. Wide, kind eyes filled with fire.
They reminded Katsuki of him so he tried not to look at them.
* * *
Katsuki never announces himself when he comes home.
Not anymore.
Tonight his dad is gone. Staying late at work, he had texted Katsuki. The boy never replied.
His mother is sat in the living room reading a book.
She speaks without looking at him while he makes his way upstairs.
“Don’t forget about Sunday.”
“You actually want me to go?” He’s not angry, just confused, but it still comes out with a bite.
Mitsuki doesn’t even acknowledge it. “Not me. Inko. She said she wants to speak with you.”
He swallows the perpetual lump in his throat, then proceeds upstairs.
He does not sleep that night.
* * *
The Midoriya’s apartment is cluttered but, outside of the piles of dishes and mail, remains exactly the same as he had seen it ten years prior.
“I’m sorry for the mess,” Inko says sheepishly as she picks up plates from the table. He quickly notices that the plates were set out for two spots despite her eating alone when he came.
He assures her it’s no bother, trying so hard to sound polite.
She smiles at him and it’s painful to see because there is no trace of maliciousness to it. Just kindness and exhaustion.
Her eyes are dark, puffy, layered with bags. The woman’s skin is sallow, her pinned back hair dull, her clothes wrinkled—a previously unseen look on the woman.
“Thank you for coming. I know this must be uncomfortable for you.”
He nearly screams at her to stop placating him but knows that’s not how it is.
“Thank you for inviting me.” He is afraid to acknowledge her other statement.
Katsuki sits in the chair across from her and swears he can feel someone else sat underneath him. He wonders if she feels that way too every night she eats.
He wishes there were more than two chairs to sit in.
A couple minutes pass that feel like hours. His lips in a tight, unmoving line. Hers quivering from time to time as she ponders what to say.
He fiddles with the end of his tie. He had worn a suit. Black and white, buttoned up completely. It feels suffocating.
“I guess I should start,” She sighs pitifully.
Katsuki beats her to it.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Katsuki.”
“It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s not, Katsuki.”
“It is!”
Why is he screaming? What is wrong with him?
“Sweetie…” Inko reaches out for him but he jerks back.
“Don’t do that! No-wait…I’m sorry. Fuck! Fuck!”
He’s losing it. And in front of the one person he was supposed to keep it together for.
Inko watches as the boy buries his head in his hands and mutters apologies to her.
He’s sorry for it all, so sorry, he was such an idiot, such a fool, such a complete asshole.
“I don’t blame you.”
You should, he thinks vehemently.
“He cared for you.” Inko tries.
Katsuki pulls at his hair.
“That’s why he did it.”
She says nothing. Some truths can’t be sugarcoated.
“I wish we had never met.”
Inko’s eyes are misty with tears but his are pouring like a busted faucet.
“No, no…he loved you. You were like his own personal hero, Katsuki.”
A bitter laugh escapes his throat before he can stop it.
“Look where that got him. I failed him.”
Another beat of silence. Another unfortunate truth.
“We all did.”
Katsuki lets her pet his hair as he cries with his face pressed into the table. Her hands shake.
She offers him dinner but he declines. When he gets home that night, his mother is gone and his father is asleep on the couch. Katsuki covers him with a blanket before heading to his room.
* * *
His mother has not spoken more than a handful of words to him in months.
The last time they had “talked” was the night after.
“Is it true, Katsuki? Don’t you fucking lie to me!” She shouted, fury palpable as she jabbed her manicured nail at him.
His father stammered clumsily through excuses. Eternally playing referee.
Katsuki said nothing. He was looking at his hands. The blood was still there.
How was it still there? He had taken two showers.
“How could you do this? I didn’t raise you like this!” Mitsuki was an angry crier. “He was your friend!”
The blood was such an angry red, too. Shouldn’t it be dark by now? Shouldn’t it be gone?
“You’re a monster, Katsuki. A fucking disappoint. I can’t even look at you.”
He knew he was crying but couldn’t feel it.
Nothing felt real.
Nothing but the blood.
“I don’t get it.”
Mitsuki stopped screaming at him. “Don’t get what? Are you stupid?”
“The blood…” He held up his hands, “Why won’t it go away? Why, mom?”
For a second she was too shocked to be angry. “There’s…there’s no blood.”
“Yes, there is!” He yelled at her, shoving his hands towards her. “Don’t you see it? Make it go away!”
She didn’t look at his face. Just dead in his eyes.
“No. Live with it. It’s the price you pay.”
So he did. The blood lived on his body, covering any bit of skin he could see.
A testament to his failure.
He wondered if his mother talked to him, if she forgave him, if the blood would disappear.
Katsuki knew he would never find out.
* * *
At night he visited Katsuki in dreams.
Sometimes they were small children. Catching beetles, playing hero, too young to have presented yet. On equal grounds. Friends.
Sometimes they were older. Dancing around each other, a bond that runs deep, and wounds that run deeper. A king and his fool. Strangers.
Most nights he is still thirteen and Katsuki is the only one who has aged. They talk like normal. Like he is only a town away, attending another school, and visiting for the night.
“I heard about the attack at USJ.”
They’re on the roof. Around them is a fence, but it doesn’t matter because they’re holding hands. Katsuki would never let go.
“It was nothing.”
“Nothing!” He’s gawking. “You saved a lot of your classmates!”
“I just did what I had to.”
“It’s still a big deal, Kacchan.” He’s pouting.
Katsuki shrugs.
“I’m proud of you.”
He can feel the dream fading. The sky turns a murky gray.
“The old you wouldn’t have saved them.”
Katsuki is losing feeling. He’s trying so hard to keep the grip on him but he’s slipping.
“If I was there, would you have saved me?”
The fence deteriorates quickly.
He tries to scream yes, of course he would, he would always save you, but he finds his mouth gone.
In a moment of panic, his hands fly to the smoothness that’s replaced his lips.
He lets go.
He promised he wouldn’t let go.
Katsuki goes to grab back the hand but it’s gone.
He’s gone.
He finds him again at the edge of the roof. It looks a million miles away but he runs anyway.
After hours of running, he’s so close, just an arm’s length away and he can catch him.
Right as his fingers brush the black shirt, he’s flying.
Down, down, down, spiraling towards the ground, and then it’s all black.
He wakes up covered in sweat.
Katsuki checks the time. 3:02am.
His mind is too loud. He quickly deduces that he won’t be going back to sleep so he suits up for a run.
He takes the path in the opposite direction of the apartments.
***
Masaru made him go to the grave. Said it might bring him peace. Katsuki doubted that but he wanted to please his father. And leave the house.
The grave was in pristine shape. It was recently put in, only a couple months old, and he could tell Inko came by regularly by the fresh flowers laid on it.
He set his beside hers. Green, white, and red. A nice color scheme.
“Hey,” He said uncomfortably. He wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to talk to graves. He’d only seen them in movies before. “Hope everything is good up there.”
Silence.
“Saw your mom a couple weeks ago. She’s doing good.”
Why was he lying to a tombstone?
“Uh…I got into UA. Met All Might. I should get his autograph for you. Plaster it onto the stone or some—”
“Bakugo-kun?” A voice came from his left.
He whipped his head to the side, searching for the person.
It was Uraraka. Of course it was.
“Bakugou-kun is that you?”
He knew there was no use in running or lying. She was already too close and coming closer.
“It is you! What a surprise!”
“What are you doing here?” He asked brusquely.
Uraraka saddled up beside him. She hadn’t looked at the grave yet and he hoped she wouldn’t.
“I come visit my grandparents here sometimes since my parents are usually too busy.”
“Ah.”
“What about you? Do you have family here or something?”
Before he could distract her, she was reading the name on the stone.
“Izuku Midoriya,” She sounded out loud.
He froze. He hadn’t heard that name in nearly a year.
“Oh,” He frowned, “He was so young. Was he a friend?”
“He was your friend!”
“He cared for you.”
“Yeah. My closest.”
A hand came to his arm. She rubbed it tenderly. He tried not to vomit.
“I’m so sorry, Bakugou-kun. He passed away not long ago, too.”
“It’s okay. Not your fault.”
For a minute she said nothing. Sent up a prayer for him.
“Can I ask what happened?”
NO, he thought first, but he took a deep breath.
He had to say it.
Had to confront it.
“He killed himself.”
Her hand stopped moving.
“I found him.”
She said nothing. Either waiting him out or genuinely unable to respond.
“We had known each other since we were born. Our moms are friends. He was always there and then-then-“
“Then he wasn’t.”
“Yeah.”
Uraraka was so sweet.
Izuku would have loved her.
They would have been nice for each other. Could have fallen in love, had kids, had a nice life.
Katsuki hated the idea of that for many reasons, but most of all hated that he had robbed Izuku of that.
“Does anyone else in our class know?”
“No.”
“Do you want it kept that way?”
“Yes. Please.”
She nodded.
Uraraka kept her promise.
* * *
“We’re picking hero names today. Midnight is here to assist with that since I am…not the best with this side of hero work.”
The woman entered the class, gave her speech, and they all began scribbling and discussing.
With each person, Midnight yelled out yes or no and the class wondered exactly what he criteria was. Bakugou was last.
“And you, dear?”
He felt a twinge of nervousness. It was an odd feeling, a new one, but this was important. It was intimate.
He flipped the board and waited for her to read the name since he couldn’t find it in him to.
“Ka…chan. Kacchan. That’s you want?” She quirked her eyebrow at him.
Nearly the whole class erupted into laughter, save for Uraraka, Kirishima, and Todoroki. He knew the first two were just perceptive but part of him thought that Todoroki just had no sense of humor.
“Are you kidding me, man?” Kaminari cried out.
“Yeah, what the hell is with that kiddie name?” Sero jeered, wiping a tear from his face.
He ground his teeth together, forcing himself to quell his need to lash out. “It’s important to me, okay?”
“I didn’t take you for the sentimental type, Bakugou-chan,” Tsu remarked.
“To be fair, it’s hard to understand his type at all, Tsu,” Momo sighed.
“Guys, leave him alone! I think it’s manly to embrace your sentimental side!”
“Me too!” Uraraka chimed in.
Midnight point a finger to her lips and thought on it. “Pass! I think it’s cute! And most importantly, it holds meaning to you, which means you’ll fight even harder to have it respected. A promising hero name, Kacchan!”
* * *
After class, Kirishima caught up to him.
“Hey, dude,” He sped walk to match pace with the avoidant Katsuki. “I’m sorry everyone was so rude to you today about your hero name.”
“’S okay.”
“I really meant it when I said I think it’s manly.”
“Thanks.”
“Can I ask why you chose it, though? I gotta be real, I still was a bit surprised myself when you came out with it.”
Katsuki looked around for an escape route but the only way off campus from through the same gate. So he could either answer or awkwardly run off in the same direction.
Kirishima would probably chase him anyway.
“It’s what a friend of mine used to call me.”
Kirishima wiggled his eyebrows. “A friend?” He asked suggestively.
“He’s dead.”
The red head stopped in his tracks. “Holy shit.”
Katsuki reluctantly came to a halt too. “That was too sudden. My bad.”
“No!” He waved his hands frantically. “No, you’re good! I was…not expecting that answer.”
“Is anyone?”
He shook his head. “Guess not.”
They started walking again.
“You know, you never said what kind of friend he was.”
“Not that kind.”
“Because you weren’t interested or because you know, he’s-uh-gone?”
Katsuki scowled. This was too personal for him. He didn’t know how to answer because he had no answer himself.
“Hey, sorry, you don’t have to answer that. It’s really not my business I just wanted to make conversations.”
“It’s good. I’ll let you know when I do, I guess.”
Kirishima laughed breathily. “I’ll be waiting, bro.”
They parted ways at the station, but only after he was forced to trade numbers.
He received a text before the train even left.
* * *
“I made omelets tonight.”
Katsuki jumped. He was at his desk doing homework. It was just him and his mother, his dad pulling another late night.
“Come eat.” She said and left.
He cautiously walked downstairs. When she hadn’t burst to flames or pulled out a knife, he sat at the table.
She sat in the chair at the other end of the table. Not near him, but a start.
They ate in silence. It wasn’t comfortable but it wasn’t uneasy. Just quiet.
“Thank you.” He said after washing the dishes.
She nodded, setting up on the sofa to read.
He was heading upstairs when she stopped him, again, not looking up from her book.
“Why don’t you bring your homework down here?”
“Okay.”
At the top of the stairs he heard her again, faint but there.
“I love you.”
* * *
He was back at the grave the next weekend. So, apparently, was Uraraka.
“Somehow I knew you would be here.” She greeted him, excited holding up a glass bottle. “I brought drinks! Non-alcoholic, of course. But still celebratory.”
“What’s the celebration?” He asked but still took the small plastic cup.
“I don’t know. Make one up!”
“What?”
“Make one up! We can toast to anything.”
He thought on it.
“A toast to nerds.”
“To nerds?”
“You said anything.”
She laughed. “I guess I did. To nerds it is, then.”
They chinked cups, her making a pretend clink!, and drank the sparkling juice.
“What was he like?” She asked sometime later as they sat in front of the slab.
“Nerdy.”
“Ah. There’s the toast.”
“Yeah. He used to keep notes on every hero he could. He even had some on me.”
“Izuku thought you would be a hero?”
“Not thought, knew it. Swore it from the day my quirk manifested.”
“Ooh, quite the little fan.”
Katsuki scoffed. “You’re telling me. Little shit followed me everywhere for years.”
She smiled like candy. Smelled just as nice.
“What was his quirk?”
Katsuki’s mouth felt dry. He knew it wasn’t a deep question but the answer was filled with insurmountable depth.
“He didn’t have one. He was quirkless.”
A dark look etched on her face.
“Poor kid.”
“He wanted to be a hero, too, y’know? That’s all he ever talked about. All he ever wanted. And then he got nothing.”
She puckered her lips. “That had to be so devasting for him.”
“Yeah. And then there I was with my quirk, acting like a fuckin’ pro already, a constant reminder of what he didn’t have.”
He was prepared for the hand on his shoulder. It did comfort him even if he wouldn’t admit so.
“I’m sure he didn’t see it that way.”
I’m sure he did.
“Now you just have to work ten times harder to be number one, Kacchan.”
At least that fact remained true.
* * *
He had met Kirishima for lunch.
Why? He didn’t know. But he was already out the door before he could process his choice.
They were at a café midway between their homes. He had never been there before.
“I’m surprised you actually said yes. You usually don’t want to hang out.”
“I’m just busy. I train a lot.” Half truth.
Kirishima waved him off, fry in hand. “You don’t gotta explain it to me. If I had your quirk, I would be using it all day, seeing what cool stuff I could do.”
“It’s not that amazing.” A lie.
“Kacchan, you’ve got the coolest quirk ever! I can’t wait to get mine!”
He took a bite of the sandwich he had got and made a face. Kirishima laughed full bellied at him.
He liked that Kirishima laughed without reservation. There was a time he did that too but it was so long ago that he figured if he did it not, his body would combust.
“Not good?”
“Not spicy enough.”
“Dude, they added, like, a whole friggin’ bottle! And then you added more!”
Bakugou scrunched his nose but ate it anyway. “Still could use some more.”
Kirishima shook his head. “You’re a freak.”
Katsuki closed his eyes.
“Fucking freak! Stop being in my ass all the time you quirkless piece of shit!”
“I’m just trying to talk to you, Kacchan, please.”
“Just leave me alone, god damn it!”
“Hey, you good? Feeling sick?”
“Something like that. But I’m fine.”
“It’s all that spicy stuff. Not good on your intestines, bro.”
“Yeah, probably not,” He conceded.
He never finished the sandwich.
* * *
Another dream.
This one more memory than dream.
He was crouched in a pool of blood, Izuku’s body sprawled out in front of him. His legs bent in a way that legs don’t bend. A giant gash on his head, his brainmatter exposed. His arms soaked in rain and red, dark blood.
“Fuck, fuck, c’mon, Deku! Don’t do this. Wake up, wake up!” He’s pleading with a dead boy.
He performs the CPR techniques he’s learned in class.
Press, press, press, and breathe, press, press, press, and breathe.
His lips are so cold they taste like a frost burnt popsicle.
The rain is freezing and hits like shards of class. Sirens are wailing in the distance but they aren’t coming fast enough.
A part of him knows already that it doesn’t matter when they get here.
He’s already failed.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, I am so sorry,” He begs, holding the frozen boy close to his chest, hoping to share his warmth, “I’ll do better. I will. So please don’t go. I’m sorry.”
Izuku says nothing and he never will.
* * *
The trips to the grave become weekly. Uraraka always shows up, even without a proper meeting time, and always has a drink ready. They trade each week on who gets to make the toast.
This week they toast to passing exams.
“I don’t know why you’re even toasting, Mr. Top of Class.”
“I could fail. Someday.”
“Just not today.” She smiles.
“Just not today.” He echoes her sentiment and smile.
He imagines Izuku smiling between them.
It’s the first nice thought he’s had in a long time.
* * *
On the first year anniversary, he escorts Inko to the shrine. He prays with her, leaves his offering, and watches as she lights the incense. He holds her as she cries.
“Thank you for this, Katsuki.”
“Of course.”
They’re both looking down at him. She grabs his hand and squeezes it, sniffling.
“He loved you.”
“I know.”
“He would have forgiven you. Probably already did.”
“I know.”
Inko smiles at him sympathetically.
“You should forgive yourself, too.”
He wishes he could.
Maybe someday.
But not today.
* * *
His dream felt different this time.
They weren’t small, they weren’t unequal. He wasn’t older, but rather they were older. Together.
Izuku was in a hero costume. Green with white and red. A nice color scheme.
He was tall, taller than Katsuki, with broad shoulders and muscles that rivaled his own. His hair was cropped in a more mature look. His cheeks had lost their adolescent chub, his jawline defined, but his freckles still as prominent as ever.
They’re both standing in the middle of what looks like a street but it’s empty. No one else is near them.
“Izuku?” Katsuki called to him.
“Yeah, Kacchan?” He replies, turning around, cape swishing with him.
Katsuki blinks, unsure of himself. “Are you real? Is this real?”
Izuku smiles. “As real as you want it to be.”
He’s overcome with emotion. He hates himself for it but he immediately throws himself at Izuku.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
Kacchan holds him close. He never wants to let go.
“I wish this could have been our future. This is what you deserved. I took that from you.”
Izuku pushes him back and for a second Katsuki assumes he’s being pushed away forever.
Instead, the man takes his face in his hands, rubbing the pads of his gloved thumbs across his cheekbones, his expression soft and filled with love.
With forgiveness.
“Stop doing this to yourself. I don’t want this.”
“I do.”
Izuku smiles. “Well, for once, Kacchan, I don’t care about what you want.”
He can feel as it begins to fade. Sees the edges blur, feels the lightness in his bones as he body stirs awake.
He grabs onto Izuku again.
“Please don’t leave. Stay with me. We can just stay here forever.”
“I wish we could.” He hugs the man gently. “It’s okay. We’ll have another life together. We’ll get a do-over someday.”
He wakes up with tears streaming down his face.
Without thinking, he goes to his mother. She’s still awake in the living room.
“Mom,” is all he says before he breaks.
She holds him as he cries. He hears his father enter the room at some point, finding both his wife and child sobbing. He joins them.
And, for the first time, as a family, they grieve.
* * *
When he graduates, Inko comes to see him.
She makes him a cake, decorated with red, white, and green.
“Oh, Izuku would be so proud.”
“I’m going to see him today.”
Inko shakes her head. “He can see you already, sweetie. Just go have fun with your friends.”
He does as told.
His friends swing by the grave with him anyway. After all, they had to celebrate.
* * *
Uraraka gets married two years after graduation.
The man she marries has green hair and Katsuki almost chokes when he meets him. The resemblance is almost uncanny.
The night before the wedding, Uraraka asks him if he plans on getting married someday.
“Probably not.”
Uraraka is drinking champagne as she lays out the last of her accessories, nervously rearranging them.
“Because of Izuku? You know it’s okay to move on. It’s been five years.”
Katsuki smiles, a genuine one, and pours her another class.
“Y’know I still dream about him.”
“Every night?”
“Every night.”
“Damn. Maybe I should rethink my marriage. I don’t think he dreams of me every night.”
“He gets to see you everyday.”
Uraraka raises he glass, nodding animatedly. “True.”
Katsuki thumbs the rim of his glass. “I used to only have dreams of the bad parts. Finding him, all the mistakes I made, the things I wish I hadn’t said. And now…”
He envisions the man in green, white, and red, with his bright smile, cropped hair, and loving touch.
“And now…” She prompts.
“And now I dream of a life where we grow old together.”
“Another lifetime maybe?”
He grins. “That’s what I believe.”
Uraraka hums and takes a long sip. “So now you think you’ll never find a person here that can live up to that lifetime?”
“Don’t think, I know I won’t.”
She holds her hands up in mock defense. “Jeez, you two were made for each other.”
They both laugh.
“Well,” She mumbles, half drunk, “If you ever find a way to merge lifetimes, make sure you make me your maid of honor in it okay? Promise?”
“Promise.”
* * *
Three years later, he breaks into the top ten. Five more years, and he is number two.
He takess number one just short of a decade after his debut.
The first person he tells is Izuku.
“Here you go, nerd,” He says as he tapes the picture of him standing in front of the crowd at the debut. “I’m sure you would have gone nuts over this. I thought about getting you a figurine but it would be fuckin’ weird for a hero to buy his own merch.”
He opens a real alcoholic beverage and clinks it against the tombstone.
“Cheers. To heroes and other bullshit.”
Somewhere, Izuku is scolding him for not properly celebrating his victory.
Katsuki smiles.
He’ll celebrate with everyone else someday.
Just not today.