Chapter Text
Frankly, this whole arguing with himself for hours thing is getting old. But Katsuki is just still so conflicted.
He’s stubborn, not stupid. As much as he loathes it, it’s been made abundantly clear that ignoring this isn’t going to make it go away. That means that he has to just deal with it. He can’t deny that anymore.
Katsuki heaves a heavy sigh. The worst part is, Deku’s right —regressing on purpose, instead of regressing because he’d been pushed over the edge— would give him back a sense of control. If it has to happen, it should happen on his terms. It makes sense. He knows that.
Katsuki still hates himself as he sits up and grabs his phone off the nightstand.
(…And then, somewhere in the back of his head, he wonders…maybe he just hates himself nonetheless, no matter what he does. Is it just because of this? Or is there more to it than that?
Whatever. He’s not going to follow that train of thought right now.)
All Might cartoons playing on his phone. Pillow clutched against his chest. Breaths deliberately deep and slow. It’s embarrassing how easy this is. Katsuki actually didn’t think he’d be able to regress on command at all, let alone this quickly.
But the familiar comfort of the opening intro to the show he and Izuku used to watch when they were little has that fuzzy fog already forming around the edges of his mind, and all Katsuki has to do to get it to take over is to…let it. Instead of fighting it.
Well, not that that part is easy. Of course, he’s fighting with himself the whole time.
You’re being weak and useless on purpose, a voice in his head hisses, what the hell is wrong with you? This is worse than a waste of time. You’re really gonna willingly let Deku see you like this again? You may as well kiss any dreams of becoming the number one hero goodbye; this kind of display of weakness is-
Shut up.
His nails dig into his palms.
It’s fine. This is just so that it doesn’t happen at more inconvenient times.
But why does Deku have to be there?
…Well, he’s got a point there. He doesn’t need Deku here, does he?
(No…but he wants him here.)
(Why?)
“Oh. Yeah, of course, Kacchan. You can stay with me tonight. Whatever you need, okay?”
Nobody… ever …talked to Katsuki like that, with such tender understanding. Ever. Not even his parents, not even when he was a kid for real. Nobody, ever, made Katsuki feel as safe as Midoriya Izuku does.
So with shaky hands, he presses pause on the episode and opens Deku’s contact.
‘k zuku m little now’
“Hi Kacchan!”
“Shh!” Kacchan shushes him as he pulls him into his room and closes the door behind them. “Gotta be quiet, ‘kay?”
Izuku smiles patiently and lowers his tone. “Okay. Sorry, Kacchan.”
“‘S okay.” Kacchan doesn’t let go of Izuku’s hand until after he drags him over to his bed and they both sit down.
He pulls his knees up to his chest and hides the bottom half of his face behind his arms, with just his eyes peeking out.
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi,” Izuku says. “How did it feel regressing on purpose? Did it feel better than the other times?”
Kacchan averts his eyes and nods slowly. “Yeah. An’ it was better ‘cause…I knew you were gonna come over.”
Izuku’s heart melts—he realizes it really doesn’t take much for that to happen when it comes to Kacchan—and he can’t help the beam that spreads across his face. “I’m so happy you feel safe with me,” he says gently. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Kacchan blinks. “You’re welcome.”
“Do you think it would be okay if we could do this more often? So you can be little Kacchan and not have to be all by yourself?”
Kacchan nods again, but there’s a hesitation behind it, like he’s not totally on board with this idea. This is still more than Izuku was expecting. He expected more resistance; Kacchan wasn’t exactly the most agreeable kid, and Izuku supposed the last few times he’d seen him regress, he was just too upset to argue and pick fights.
“You seem like you’re not quite sure,” Izuku says.
“‘S just…” Kacchan absentmindedly fiddles with the hem of his sleeve. “‘S you.”
Izuku’s smile strains but doesn’t drop. “I know we haven’t always gotten along,” he says. “And if you’re not comfortable with me being your caregiver—” Kacchan freezes when he says that word, and Izuku hears him draw in a sharp breath like a quiet gasp. “If you’re not comfortable with me being your caregiver, I don’t want to make you feel like you have to hang out with me,” Izuku continues, then wonders where he was going with this. Izuku had seen how bad Kacchan’s mental health had gotten when he was isolating and keeping all of this to himself; he’s not going to let him do that again. No one else at school besides him and Mr. Aizawa know about Kacchan’s regression. Izuku can’t see Kacchan trusting Mr. Aizawa with this. But then again, he didn’t think he would ever trust him either, and here they are…so maybe they could talk to Mr. Aizawa, but Mr. Aizawa doesn’t know Kacchan nearly as well as Izuku does, and he definitely didn’t know him when he was a kid, which is also true of anyone else, so out of anyone Izuku is the obvious candidate, but he’s being stupid, of course it depends on what Kacchan needs because Izuku doesn’t-
“You don’t like me.”
Izuku immediately snaps out of his mental rambling.
Well. That sort of came out of nowhere. Izuku blinks in surprise and furrows his brows.
“What? Kacchan, of course I like you! Why would you say that?”
“Dunno.” He looks deep in thought, chewing on his thumb nail and staring off into the middle distance. “Um. ‘Zuku?”
“Yes, Kacchan?”
“My…brain…’s bein’ mean again.”
“It is?” Izuku says. He kind of wants to go back to the part about him not liking Kacchan, because he doesn’t even know where Kacchan got that idea in the first place. But, he realizes, it’s probably related, so he asks, “Can you tell me what kinds of things your brain is saying to you?”
Kacchan is silent for a long moment, and Izuku’s not sure he’s going to get an answer. But, finally, he nods slowly. “Says ‘m weak an’ I shouldn’t be little. An’ I’m not gonna be a hero. An’ no one likes me.” His face contorts like he’s about to cry. No tears fall, but his voice is softer when he says, “How do I make it stop?”
Izuku’s notepad falls off of the bed onto the floor when he shifts. He ignores it. They’re probably not going to get to any of that anyway. “Kacchan,” he says. “Is it okay if I hug y-”
Kacchan, clearly having been waiting for an invitation, throws himself at Izuku before Izuku even finishes his sentence, smacking his head against Izuku’s chin and squeezing him with a force that Izuku thinks might have crushed him if he didn’t have One for All. After being frozen with surprise for a few seconds, Izuku wraps his arms around Kacchan as well. He wonders how many hugs Kacchan has gotten in the past ten years. He wonders if Kacchan can count that number on one hand.
Hand carding through Kacchan’s hair, Izuku whispers, “Your brain is lying to you, Kacchan. You’re not weak at all. I have no doubt you’re going to be one of the greatest heroes. I think you might be the strongest person I know.”
“Even when ‘m like this?” Kacchan squeaks.
“Especially then,” Izuku emphasizes. “It’s okay that you need to do this. Something really scary happened to you, and this is how you need to heal from it.”
“ I…know that!” Kacchan says frustratedly, the fabric of Izuku’s shirt bunching in his fists as he clings to him. “So why do I still feel like I’m bad?”
Izuku cradles Kacchan against his chest, and…it doesn’t feel as weird as he thinks it probably should. A couple of months ago, he probably would have been fearing for his life had they been in this position. Now he feels protective, guiding Kacchan’s head to rest on his shoulder and rubbing his back. “I know it’s not fair,” he says quietly. “I want to tell you that you’re not. You’re not bad, you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to and what you need to to get better. But…I know you’ll probably have a hard time believing me.”
Kacchan sniffs, frame beginning to shake ever so slightly with the onset of tears.
“What you have to remember is that…superheroes are still people. No matter how powerful and unstoppable the pros look on tv, they have moments of weakness too, because they’re human. You just usually don’t see those moments.”
“I do sometimes,” Kacchan cries, rubbing his nose against Izuku’s shoulder. “But I, I don’t wan-na be like tha-that! I wanna b-be better than them!”
Don’t laugh, Izuku has to remind himself, he’s being serious. And I’m sure he thinks that way even when he’s not regressed. “Kacchan,” Izuku says. “You are the only person in the world who thinks you have to be perfect. Nobody else expects that of you, because it’s not possible. You expect yourself to do impossible things and then get mad when you can’t.”
There’s a pause before Kacchan asks in a tiny voice, “Really?”
This time, Izuku does laugh a little. “Yes, really,” he says. “I think you’re being silly.”
“Oh.” Another pause. “Big Kacchan wants to think that but he can’t.”
“Really?” That’s news. Frankly, Izuku thought “big Kacchan” was too stubborn to want to think like that. But if he really does…
Oh, Kacchan…why can’t you just let people help you?
Kacchan pulls away and leans against the wall. He wipes away the tear streaks on his face and turns his gaze towards the window, but the look in his eyes suggests he’s not really processing anything he’s looking at, that his mind is far away.
“Why do you think he can’t think like that, Kacchan?”
Kacchan wipes his nose on his wrist and shakes his head. “Don’ wanna talk about it, ‘Zuku.”
“...Okay,” Izuku says gently. “Can we promise to talk about it another time?”
Kacchan hesitates, then nods. He holds out his pinky finger.
Izuku smiles and hooks his pinky finger around Kacchan’s. “Pinky promise.”
They pull away.
“Okay, so no talking about sad things,” says Izuku. “What should we do, then?”
Kacchan blinks. “Thoughted…thought you jus’ wanted to ask me things. Tha’s why you came over.”
“I wanted to ask you about things to help me figure out how to be a good caregiver, but I think maybe it’s best if you just showed me.”
Kacchan’s eyebrows furrow. “Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“My caregiver.”
Izuku smiles. He gently clasps one of Kacchan’s hands in his. “I would like to be,” he says. “If you’ll let me.”
Kacchan seems to think about it for a few moments. Then he nods. “Okay,” he says. “You can be my caregiver.”
Izuku is well aware that Kacchan probably won’t feel the same way when he’s back in his normal state of mind, but for now, this is all he could have asked for. “Thank you,” he says softly.
“You’re welcome.” He pauses. “Hey, ‘Zuku. Guess what I did before you came here.”
“What?”
“Was watchin’ All Might. ‘Member our favorite show?”
“Of course I do!” Izuku exclaims. “Can I watch it with you?”
“Okay.”
Katsuki actually used to hate watching All Might cartoons with Izuku, because he would talk so much— “Kacchan, did you know that this episode is based on the fight where-” “Kacchan, did you know All Might said this was his favoritest episode to record because-” “Kacchan, did you know the bad guy in this episode is acted by Sir Nighteye? And that, Sir Nighteye did not want to act in this show but All Might said he should and then-” blah blah blah blah, it was like watching the director’s commentary version of their cartoons. Katsuki was actually interested in the trivia Izuku somehow always had about every single episode, but not when he talked over the episode.
“‘S okay, ‘Zuku, you can talk,” Katsuki says, after the third time he feels Izuku inhale like he’s about to say something and then change his mind. “I know what happens anyway.”
They’re sitting on his bed, Katsuki’s head on Izuku’s shoulder, with his laptop on his chair playing their favorite All Might cartoon.
“Are you sure?” Izuku laughs. “You used to get pretty annoyed with me.”
“It is annoying,” Katsuki says. “But that’s just how we always watch stuff. It’s weird if you don’t talk.”
“Alright, then. You can tell me to shut up if you want.”
Katsuki doesn’t tell Izuku to shut up. He listens to him ramble on and they watch cartoons until his eyelids start to feel heavy.
“Is it time for bed, Kacchan?” Izuku asks.
He clings onto Izuku. “You have to stay,” he says sleepily.
Of course, he would rather go home to go to bed. But Izuku feels enough like home that Katsuki forgot to dread night time like he always does.
(And even though he wants to go home…he’s not sure he wants to see Mama right now.)
Izuku closes the laptop and hesitates. “Kacchan…I’m not sure you’re going to be very happy with me in the morning…” Katsuki opens his mouth to argue. Before he even says anything, Izuku continues, “But I could stay at least until you fall asleep?”
Katsuki nods. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing.
By morning Izuku is not there, and Katsuki is not regressed.
He tries to convince himself that Izuku doesn't really care about him and that he's doing this as some sort of twisted form of revenge. It sounds kind of stupid now.