Work Text:
Deku: So sorry, Kacchan. Not feeling great, so I’ve told All Might I can’t train tonight. Sorry again for the late notice
Furious, Katsuki threw his phone across the room. He’d been suspicious for a while. Other than his annoyingly cheery “Morning, Kacchan!” when he passed Katsuki’s desk, Izuku hadn’t initiated a conversation with Katsuki in weeks.
He’d originally assumed that he was reading too much into it. But then Katsuki had managed to increase the speed of his X-Catapult by 7% in training last week, and Katsuki had braced himself for Izuku rushing up to him, gushing about Katsuki’s amazingness. Izuku hadn’t even been looking in his direction.
Katsuki had obviously been relieved that he didn’t have to push his dumb admiring face away; it was just annoying that none of the other extras were obsessed enough with Katsuki to notice his fucking remarkable improvement. It had still been really fucking weird.
But now Izuku was skipping One For All training with All Might and Katsuki, which he knew was the fucking highlight of the nerd’s week (he told them both often enough). Izuku had had a cough for the last couple of weeks. However, with the nerd’s sense of self preservation, even with four shattered limbs he’d find some way to roll to the training grounds.
So it was official. Izuku was ignoring him.
Katsuki paced around the room, raking his fingers through his hair, barely managing to keep from singeing his scalp. He didn’t know how to handle this.
He’d known Izuku for well over a decade, and even though he treated him like shit for the vast majority of it, Izuku had never ignored him before. Avoided him and his volatile temper, sure. But even when he used to shrink away when Katsuki looked in his direction, Katsuki could always feel Izuku’s eyes on his back wherever he went, burning through him. To not have Izuku watching him, analysing him, his huge eyes seeing the best and the worst of him and not turning away, it felt like his world had shifted on his axis.
Unable to bear the claustrophobic walls of his room any more, Katsuki headed out to the training grounds to practise on his own. If Izuku was sulking, it didn’t need to get in the way of Katsuki’s training.
When Katsuki realised that his feet were taking him to Ground Beta, he abruptly changed direction and headed to Gym Gamma.
After a couple of hours of blasting concrete pillars to dust, Katuki sat against the wall and leaned his head back. With sweat coating his body and the adrenaline rush just dying down, he was finally able to get his brain working again.
It felt wrong for Katsuki, the one who was going to be greater than All Might, to get disorientated because his little stalker had decided to get a life. But, fuck, he could admit, at least to himself, that he was also really fucking worried.
If telling Izuku to take a swan dive off the roof couldn’t make him give up on Katsuki, what could it have been? Recently, they’d been getting on as well as Katsuki’s instinctively prickly exterior would allow. Did all this growth and success he’s been experiencing recently with his quirk and internship finally give Izuku enough self respect that he’d realised that he should have given up on Katsuki years ago?
Izuku had more kindness in that extra joint in his pinky toe than Katsuki had in his whole body. If even he’d finally reached his limit, then Katsuki couldn’t blame him. But there were bigger concerns than Katsuki’s feelings. Izuku’s kindness extended to everyone but himself, and Katsuki had vowed to do his best to get Izuku to the point where he wouldn’t have to give up a piece of himself to save someone else again. He couldn’t trust All Might with Izuku’s training; he constantly enabled the worst habits they both shared.
Izuku didn’t have to like him, or admire him, or look up at him with huge eyes and tell him he was amazing. But he did have to let him act as his rival and help him get better.
He could give Izuku a little time to get his shit together. He was more patient than most people gave him credit for. But he was not going to let Izuku skip training next week. If he tried, he’d have to play dirty and sic All Might and his overwhelming fatherly concern on Izuku. Izuku would fold like origami in the face of that.
As always, having a plan of action had made him feel better. He had his priorities, and any feelings that the day’s events had stirred up were unimportant.
The advantage of having Izuku ignore him was that it made it much easier than normal to watch him without being observed.
Normally he would have to conceal his glances when he was trying to figure out what was going on in Izuku’s big dumb brain, as otherwise he was sure to get interrupted by Izuku looking back and beaming stupidly at him.
Now he was able to stare endless holes into the side of Izuku’s head without being caught. While Izuku wasn’t ignoring anyone else, there was definitely something up with him. He was putting on a cheerful front, only interrupted by that stupid cough, but it was fucking obvious that underneath he was barely holding it together. It was like he was trying to parody himself, working so hard to appear normal that even Icyhot seemed to have picked up on how fake it was.
He could tell that Izuku hadn’t told the rest of the nerd squad what was wrong, which was definitely a bad sign. The worried and occasionally suspicious glances they sent his way indicated that they’d also picked up that he was somehow involved.
He’d promised himself he wouldn’t force things with Izuku; he was more than entitled to set boundaries with Katsuki. But Izuku wasn’t talking to his friends either. Nothing made Izuku fall apart quicker than when he wasn’t vomiting his feelings all over everyone around him.
Katsuki found himself once again pacing round and round his room that evening, trying to figure out what the fuck he should do about Izuku. Before too long, he snapped.
He was Bakugou Katsuki. What the hell was he doing, letting himself endlessly obsess over the dumb feelings of some shitty nerd? He’d never be able to focus in class again if he didn’t figure out what the hell was up.
So, he let off a couple of small explosions to burn off the excess nitroglycerin in his palms and stalked to the door, ready to find Izuku and beat some sense into him. And if he didn’t go for that, maybe talk to him. As an absolute last resort.
However, when he swung the door open, he barely managed to suppress an embarrassing yelp as he almost ran over the person with their hand braced to knock on his door.
“Deku, what the fuck are you doing here?”
Izuku was hovering in the doorway, one arm still held awkwardly in the air, the other holding a nondescript shoebox. After meeting Katsuki’s eyes briefly, his eyes darted away, clearly trying to avoid Katsuki’s gaze.
“Sorry for the intrusion, Kacchan. You’re going somewhere? I can come back later.”
Straightbacked, arm still aloft, Izuku robotically swivelled to start heading back down the hallway, but not before Katsuki caught the relief in his face.
If Izuku thought he was going to get out of telling him what the hell was up with him, he had another thing coming.
“Fuck that, loser. Come back here!”
He grabbed the collar of Izuku’s shirt, dragged him into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. He gestured sharply at the bed before setting back into his desk chair.
They sat for a couple of minutes in silence, Katsuki staring unblinkingly at Izuku as he fidgeted with the lid of the box in his lap with his head bowed, still not looking at him.
When Izuku eventually let the awkwardness get the better of him and opened his mouth to speak, Katsuki let one side of his mouth twitch upwards in satisfaction. Yeah, he knew Izuku best.
“Sorry again for bothering you, Kacchan.” Izuku finally peeked up at him through his lashes and Katsuki was shocked at the thrill that went through him at feeling those eyes on him again after so long.
“I have something important to tell you. But I want to start by saying that I’m really not expecting anything from you after I say this. I know you don’t feel the same way and I really don’t want to be a burden on you or make you feel guilty. But I’ve gone through this in my head over and over and I just don’t see a way around it.”
Katsuki’s stomach swooped sickeningly; with his focus entirely on Izuku he couldn’t spare a fraction of a second to identify the feeling.
“Deku, will you just get to the fucking point?” Katsuki barely kept his voice from cracking.
“I… I have hanahaki. Because of my feelings for you.”
Katsuki stared at Izuku, mouth opening and closing, but unable to say a word.
Izuku finally lifted his head to look him square in the face, eyes shimmering, but not overflowing yet. The admission seemed to have opened the floodgates and the story seemed to burst out of him
“I started getting symptoms a little over a month ago. Of course, I knew that you were the reason. I thought I’d have some time to get my head around it before I talked to anyone, but this is apparently a really acute case, so I was coughing up full blooms just a week later. Um, you can take a look here.”
Izuku opened the lid of the box in his lap with shaking hands, before handing it to Katsuki. As he struggled to breathe, Katsuki looked inside and saw it was full of red petals and flowers, the colour he saw in the mirror every day now making him sick to his stomach. Almost against his will, he reached with a barely steady hand and removed a bloom.
“Mine are all the same, red tulips. I tried to stay away from you, to see if it slowed down the growth. It helped a little, but once I started coughing up blood, I knew that wasn’t going to be enough, so I had to tell my mom and Recovery Girl. She ran tests last week and told me I don’t have long before it’ll cause permanent damage to my lung capacity.
As I said, I’m not expecting you to take responsibility or anything. This is all on me. It’s really unfair that you have to know about this at all, but there isn’t another option because…” Izuku took a deep breath, “I have to get the surgery to remove it. I… I have to forget you.”
Katsuki’s blood ran cold.
“I don’t want to. I really really don’t want to. I’ve spent more time with you than anyone else, maybe even my mom. I can’t even remember a time when I didn’t know you. Sure, there are a lot of bad memories along with the good, but you’ve been so entwined with my life and a huge part of how I got to be who I am. Without memories of you, it feels like I’ll be so different that regardless I’ll be killing the person I am now.”
OK, Katsuki had to try and get over himself enough to shut down that bullshit. Katsuki started to jump in, but Izuku was on such a roll now that he couldn’t get a word in.
“But I have to do it. It would be so selfish to let myself die and put my mother, All Might, and all my friends through that. Even if it’s a different person that wakes up, they might not see that much of a difference from the outside. I’m sorry that I have to tell you about my feelings, but it would have been worse if you found out once I forgot who you were after the surgery. This way at least, you have a few days to think about if there’s anything you want to say before I head to the hospital after school next Saturday.”
Fucking Izuku. Even when he was dying, everyone else’s feelings mattered more than his own. Now that his big speech was over, the tears that he’d miraculously managed to hold back started to fall down his cheeks. Katsuki’s fingers ached with the urge to wipe them away.
“So…” Izuku sniffed and just barely got the rest out as his voice started to fail him. “That was kind of a lot.” He paused to fruitlessly scrub his fist across his eyes. “Sorry again. Do… Do you have anything you want to say?”
Izuku tilted his head as he looked at him. The shimmer of his eyes made them appear even bigger and more intense than normal, but they didn’t stop them from being heartbreakingly easy to read.
“Just… Stop with all the sorrys already.” And the hope in that face, present despite all Izuku’s protestations that he knew his feelings were unrequited, died.
“Right, sor-. Right.” He looked down again and, for once, Katsuki was relieved not to have that gaze on him. “Well, if you think of something, I’ll always make time for you.”
He reached his arms out for Katsuki to pass the box back to him. Katsuki did so, careful to avoid brushing his fingers against Izuku’s.
Izuku left the room and closed the door quietly behind him, shoulders slumped and gait shuffling. Izuku was a creature of contradictions: kind and selfless to his core, but you didn’t get as far as he had by holding yourself back from wanting what you couldn’t have. And today Katsuki had managed to shut down his dreams in a way a decade of bullying never could.
He turned the starkly red tulip over and over in his hands, unable to decide between placing it carefully away from harm or destroying it between his palms. Bile rose in his throat when he noticed the darker patches from blood stains.
What the fuck was he going to do?
Katsuki woke up on Sunday having never been so relieved that it wasn’t a school day. After spending hours tossing and turning, he’d given up on sleep and took out his laptop to find everything ever written about hanahaki. When sun rays crept across his room to scorch his dry and aching eyes, he finally gave up. There’d been some mildly interesting theories about how hanahaki had originated as a mutated quirk a couple of decades after the birth of the Luminescent Baby and how cultural influences impacted the flower varieties that grew in people’s chests.
However, there’d been nothing new about the topic he really cared about, hanahaki cures. The options were the same he’d heard all his life, in romantic films and manga, on the school yard, in middle school PSAs; you confessed and had your feelings reciprocated, you had the roots removed from your lungs and you lost all memories of the person you loved, or you died.
Thank fuck he didn’t have to deal with the rest of the class today; one screech from Pikachu and he’d probably have blown up the classroom. Or worse, let some of his actual feelings explode out.
The worst thing was that Katsuki’s not even sure what that would look like. His emotions were an unidentifiable tornado inside of him, dislodging his sense of equilibrium, his view of himself, of Izuku, of their relationship…
He hadn’t felt so out of control since he’d practically begged Izuku to fight him and help him make the world make sense again after All Might’s downfall.
Almost every time his emotions got the best of him, Izuku was the only person who could put a chink in his walls, force him to let it all out. But even he wasn’t such a piece of shit that he’d lash out at Izuku in these circumstances to try and lance the poisonous, choking swirl of emotions inside of him.
This time, he’d have to figure out what he felt and what he needed to do without relying on Izuku.
He let his palms crackle loudly for a moment to drown out the thought that he’d need to start getting used to not relying on Izuku.
He headed outside for a run, using headphones as an excuse not to engage with any classmates as he passed. Though it took all the reflexes his time at UA had drilled into him to dodge the hugs that Sparky and Racoon Eyes tried to ambush him with, he managed to escape Heights Alliance without a single explosion.
It took much longer than usual to clear his head. He’d made it halfway around campus before the metronome of his feet hitting the ground managed to slow his racing thoughts enough to start detangling them.
The bite in the air wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been a couple of months ago, but it still sent his mind back to the frigid chill of the day they’d rescued Natsuo.
That day should have just been an incredibly uncomfortable dinner where he heard a ton of shit that was none of his business, followed by him doing hero work in the exemplary way he always did.
He hadn’t been sure why Izuku saying that Icyhot’s kindness was what made him want to forgive had knocked the breath from his chest and made him feel like the ground beneath his feet was unsteady. But it was as if the villain had managed to rip out the snarl of thorns protecting his heart along with the road markings when he heard Endeavour’s vow to atone and not seek forgiveness. His emotions were suddenly exposed to the bitter cold of the open air and he couldn’t turn away from them any longer.
Even after Ground Beta, he’d still been willing to use resentment of Izuku as a crutch to avoid looking at his own behaviour too hard. Katsuki couldn’t comprehend unconditionally forgiving someone who’d ground him under their heel for years, especially when that person still acted pretty shittily towards you. So, he’d once again assumed the worst of Izuku, that he was trying to keep the high ground on Katsuki, so that Katsuki had no option but to remain forever in his debt. Picturing Izuku down closer to his level.
However, as the person who’d kept Izuku in his sight most days of his life, he was finally forced to acknowledge that Izuku was, and always had been, just kind like that. Deeply, unfathomably, frighteningly kind.
Even though his shoddy excuses had been ripped from his grasp, the day had also given him a way forward.
For months now, in the dark of night when it was much harder to lie to himself, when Katsuki forcibly tore his mind away from thoughts of vicious insults, of beatings, of explosions, he’d had thoughts of apologising to Izuku, if just to alleviate the constant ache in his sternum. However, his mind always rebelled against the idea. If he did, Izuku would instantly forgive him, even though he unquestionably wouldn’t have earned it. It seemed to Katsuki that apologies were mostly to make the person apologising feel better, it didn’t change any of the shit that had gone down.
So that night, Endeavour taught him something bigger than the rest of his time on the internship put together. Even if looking for forgiveness was self-serving, striving for atonement was still possible.
So that had been the focus of Katsuki’s considerable talents and abilities ever since. Helping Izuku, making him better, keeping him from destroying himself. He didn’t know if he’d ever get to the point where he’d fully paid his debt, but he was willing to keep trying for the rest of his life.
He’d felt so much calmer and more sure of himself since that day. He’d felt able to look Izuku fully in the eye, instead of trying to scare him off when he felt his penetrating green gaze on him. So it was incredibly frustrating that he seemed to be back where he’d started; his feelings towards Izuku were such a tangled mess that he didn’t know what was real and what was a reaction to his own insecurities.
Considering it had taken him a decade to realise the very basic and, and frankly obvious, fact that he’d never hated Izuku; he’d just hated how Izuku made it impossible to ignore his own flaws, he didn’t know how he could make sense of everything going on in his head in the next few days. But he tried to find some things that he did know were true.
He’d never hated Izuku.
He hated how Izuku would throw himself away for the chance to save someone.
He didn’t hate that All Might had given Izuku a quirk and a chance to live the dream he’d tried to snuff out.
He hated that the quirk Izuku had been given was One For All, a curse for someone who didn’t see themselves as having any worth outside of saving everyone.
He didn’t hate training with Izuku, spending time with him on an even keel. It was the highlight of his week too.
He hated the idea of Izuku being hurt more than anything else.
He didn’t hate Izuku; but he felt more for him than he felt for anyone else in his life.
He hated the idea of Izuku forgetting him almost as much as he hated the idea of him being hurt.
So, why didn’t he hate it when Izuku told him that he was in love with him?
Fuck.
He stumbled to a stop, almost falling to his knees; his limbs displaying a lack of grace that they hadn’t since he was a child.
No. Fuck. No. No. No.
It couldn’t be true.
He’d become acutely aware of his ability to feel totally irrational emotions for Izuku and simultaneously hide them from his own conscious mind. But, how did he manage to do something this stupid? How had he managed to be completely in denial about how he felt for this boy once again?
Izuku of all people? The awkward, obsessive nerd who muttered constantly and whose idea of a funny joke was an All Might impression. That Izuku?
The Izuku who was so stubborn that he wouldn’t let anyone stand in the way of something that mattered to him. The Izuku that observed everything around him with incredible intensity and came up with an impossible solution. Izuku who embodied empathy and compassion in everything he did and said. The Izuku with those chubby cheeks and freckles that he had an almost irresistible urge to pinch. The Izuku with the messy curls that his hands ached to run his hands through. The Izuku with the huge green eyes that had watched him his whole life, saw him at his best and his worst, and loved him anyway.
Maybe he had some redeeming qualities.
He felt a strangely familiar swooping in his stomach (fuck, he’d really been in denial), and the corners of his mouth began to curl up involuntarily.
He was in love with Izuku. Izuku was in love with him in return.
He turned and began to sprint back to the dorms. Vivid images raced through his mind, of Izuku’s face when he told him he loved him, of Katsuki reaching out to touch his scarred hands, of his hand reaching out to grab a black gakuran… His stomach sunk so sharply, it felt like it bruised his torso.
How could he let himself fall in love with the boy he’d ground under his heel for a decade? If he didn’t deserve to apologise to Izuku, he certainly didn’t deserve to fall in love with him. To have him. To kiss him. To…
He’d like to say that he couldn’t believe that Izuku had fallen in love with him too. But it was undeniable that he was incredibly hot. And he’d known for a while that Izuku wasn’t right in the head, especially when it came to Katsuki.
Without the hanahaki, Katsuki could have justified letting himself have this. Izuku was the most fucking stubborn person he knew, nothing could make him fall out of love with Katsuki at this point. So, whether they gave a relationship a go and let Katsuki inevitably ruin things, or mutually suffered in silence, Izuku would inevitably end up miserable either way.
But, the hanahaki allowed for another choice. If Izuku forgot him (Katsuki forced himself to ignore the knife piercing his ribs at the thought), he’d be free of years of memories of Katsuki’s bullying and violence and the constant pain Katsuki had caused him. He wouldn’t remember being told his name meant ‘useless’ or that he should jump off a roof to try and get a quirk in his next life. He’d be free from his feelings for Katsuki and the overwhelming probability of heartbreak when their romantic relationship crashed and burned.
In turn, Katsuki would be free from the guilt of all the forgotten things he’d done to Izuku. Free from those eyes following him everywhere. Free from the person who knew him best in the world. Free from the only person who truly shared his passion and drive. Free from the only person he could trust with his feelings. Free from the chance to hold the hand of the one he loved.
A fair trade.
Acid crawled up his oesophagus, burning his lungs and heart from the inside out, making each breath tortuous, and scalding his eyes and nose as it escaped. It took him a long moment to feel the dampness on his face. He instinctively reached a hand to roughly wipe it away, but it took a couple of tries, as his hands had begun to shake violently.
As his breath began to hitch and his vision to blur, he thought that this was good practice for dealing with his emotions by himself. Izuku wasn’t going to be there for him any longer.
He bent at the waist and clutched his throbbing chest, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing.
Thank fuck there weren’t many students that would voluntarily go on a long distance run on their one day off.
It took longer than he was willing to admit, but Katsuki eventually managed to get his breathing back under control and his vision to clear before anyone happened upon him.
It took even longer in one of the gym bathrooms before he was able to hide most of the evidence of his… outburst.
When he got back to the dorms, he stopped on Izuku’s floor and stood staring at his door for countless minutes. However, with everything so fresh he didn’t trust himself not to spill his feelings at Izuku’s feet the moment he saw his face. So, he forced himself to head to his room and try, mostly unsuccessfully, to put the whole thing out of his mind for the night.
When his alarm went off the following morning, he quickly turned over the damp pillow so that all evidence would be hidden even from his own eyes. He took a moment to stare at the red bloom resting innocuously on his nightstand.
Katsuki had always thought that flower language was a bunch of made up nonsense. But it was hard not to put some stock in it in this case.
Red tulips meant true love or enduring passion. That fit, no-one was more filled with passion or capable of enduring through overwhelming odds than Izuku. It also indicated a wish to be famous or recognised; Katsuki didn’t know which of them that would apply to. A casual observer would think that it referred to Katsuki’s dreams. But ultimately his goal had always been to meet his own standards, that was secondary to having extras looking for his autograph everywhere. Especially since the flower reflected Izuku’s feelings, Katsuki thought it was referring to Izuku’s constant battle to be seen as an equal to Katsuki, to be allowed to work with him side by side.
Katsuki jerked his palm away from where it had been about to incinerate the flower and directed the explosion at the ceiling. The meanings of the flower may be deeply ironic considering what the disease is threatening to take from Izuku, but Katsuki was ultimately the one at fault here.
He levered himself off the bed and tried to lose himself in the ritual of his morning routine. He was entering new territory with himself and Izuku, but he wasn’t sure if Izuku would be able to resist talking to him again now that their relationship had such an imminent… endpoint. It would take everything he had to put on an indifferent mask for the rest of the class, but he did have years of experience in putting up a front to hide his true feelings.
The moment Izuku walked in and Katsuki saw his defeated face, Katsuki’s heart lurched painfully against his ribcage. It surged into his throat and almost choked him when Izuku gave him a tremulous smile and a, “Morning, Kacchan”, as he passed, but he was able to just barely get out a grunt of acknowledgement. Today of all days, Katsuki didn’t want to be cruel and ignore him.
Thankfully, he was able to keep Izuku mostly out of his line of vision for the rest of the day and the days that followed. Aside from the pained, wheezing coughs that ripped Katsuki’s chest apart when he heard them, Izuku managed to keep himself mostly together, helped by being distracted by the nerd squad fussing about like mother hens. Katsuki kept his head consciously averted from them all; this time he couldn’t deny that their suspicious looks were completely justified.
Katsuki was able to keep from talking to anyone through a well-practiced combination of noise-cancelling headphones and strategic explosions of Kaminari whenever a distraction was required, and he managed to hide in his dorm room every evening without raising suspicion.
Friday finally arrived, the day before Izuku would be heading to the hospital for his surgery. All the willpower that had been used to keep his eyes firmly turned away from Izuku abruptly ran out, and he found himself inexorably drawn to Izuku’s door once more. This time, he started banging on it before he could put up even a token effort to stop himself.
When Izuku opened the door, Katsuki barged past without looking at him. He started towards the desk chair, before sharply averting his path and starting to pace back and forth. Sitting still wouldn’t be enough of a distraction, wouldn’t be enough to stop him from looking in that face that knew him, that loved him, and telling him everything.
“Still headed to the hospital tomorrow?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki saw Izuku carefully set himself on the bed with shaky legs, before pulling a bloody tissue from his pocket.
“Y-Yes. You’re not an easy person to fall out of love with, Kacchan.” Izuku let out a weak chuckle, which turned into an achingly long hacking cough into the red-stained tissue.
Katsuki didn’t think that would be true for most people. But Izuku had never been like most people.
“Right.” Katsuki didn’t feel up to giving one of his normal aggressive retorts. “How come you haven’t told the extras?”
Katsuki knew he’d be getting far more than suspicious looks if Izuku had told them the real source of his illness.
“I didn’t want to make things awkward for you. You certainly didn’t ask me to fall in love with you or lead me on. It would be really unfair if the class got angry with you or tried to convince you that you should be spending all your time trying to fall in love with me. Once the surgery is over, it’ll all be a moot point, so they should leave you alone.
I’ve asked Aizawa-sensei to keep an eye out and get them to back off if they say anything to you. This is all my fault; none of this would have happened if I could have just… If I was more… It doesn’t matter.” Izuku paused to take a shaky breath and recover his composure, and Katsuki felt claws rend his heart from the inside out. “What does matter is that none of this is your fault, Kacchan.”
Izuku made that statement with the full force of his steadfast, steely gaze; endless conviction shining through and bleeding into everyone it touched.
It was almost impossible not to bend under that gaze; heroes, villains, fate itself had faltered in the face of it. Even Katsuki almost believed him for a second.
“It’s not your fault either. It’s not that you… Or that you could…” Katsuki finished lamely.
The idea that Izuku believed he wasn’t enough for Katsuki made him nauseous; he had to bite his tongue so as not to vomit his feelings all over Izuku’s shoes. But it had to be done. Just one more day and this latest blow to Izuku’s self-esteem, as well as all the other damage he’d done throughout the years, would be washed away.
“Sure, Kacchan.” Izuku shrugged noncommittally and turned his gaze away again. Katsuki’s fingers ached to reach out and turn those blazing eyes on him again.
Almost without conscious thought, Katsuki sank into the desk chair behind him and bowed his head to stare at the cheesy All Might slippers on Izuku’s feet. He wanted to be at Izuku’s level for this next part.
“Izuku. I’m sorry. For everything.”
He’d been going around in circles for days about whether he should do this. He still thought apologies were mostly self-serving without having done the work to back them up. And Katsuki had barely reached the starting line of making things up to Izuku.
But even if Katsuki didn’t deserve to apologise, Izuku still deserved to receive an apology when it would still mean something to him.
“I know I spent years trying to make you feel worthless and useless because you didn’t have a quirk. But the truth is I hated that deep down I knew that you were the one that really had the heart of a hero.
So, I refused to accept you and I made your life miserable so I wouldn’t have to think about it.
I’ve lost and failed so many times this year. And it’s shown me that so many things I valued mean shit without all the empathy and kindness that come so fucking naturally to you.”
Katsuki’s head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, but he forced himself to look up at Izuku. He’d expected tears, but Izuku just looked shell shocked; mouth open, eyes wide and staring.
“Just because I’ve apologised doesn’t mean I’ve even come close to atoning yet. And don’t you dare think that forgetting me is going to get you out of One for All training. I’m not going to let up on you until you’re an old geezer and can’t kick without throwing your back out.
I don’t expect you to, or even want you to, to forgive me.”
Katsuki felt like an anvil had been lifted from his chest. His shoulders felt lighter than they had since that long ago day where he failed to take Izuku’s hand in the river. The surge of relief was so sudden and dizzying that Katsuki struggled to feel guilty about it.
He drummed his fingers on his thigh to let out the excess adrenaline as he waited for Izuku to process everything he’d said. When lzuku continued to gape silently at him a couple of minutes later, he stood and headed towards the door. He’d told Izuku that he didn’t want an apology; he wasn’t entitled to an acknowledgement either.
He hadn’t gotten more than a couple of steps before there was a burst of movement in the corner of his eye, and he felt a strong, calloused grip on his wrist.
“No, wait! Please don’t go yet, Kacchan!”
Katsuki couldn’t help but stare at the hand holding him fast. The same hand that had haunted him in all the worst and most vulnerable moments of his life. He’d poured so much energy into hating it and everything it represented, and it should be even easier now that it was so gnarled and warped and ugly by most standards.
But all he’d been able to see for months now was how the calluses were evidence of all Izuku’s determination and hard work. How the scars cutting through the skin showed how he was willing to go beyond, even for pieces of shit like Katsuki. How the warmth seeping into his skin and the tingles shooting up his arm reflected the deep ocean of compassion in him that inexorably drew in everyone around him and the spark of competition and passion and protectiveness that he lit up inside Katsuki.
Wow, he had been completely fucking oblivious, hadn’t he?
He mustn’t have let his expression get too sappy, as Izuku collected himself and snatched his hand away once he got a peek at Katsuki’s face.
Katsuki fingers flexed automatically at the sense of loss; they ached to reach out and finally grab that fucking hand properly and never let go.
“Sorry, Kacchan. I just… I just needed some time to process that. Um…” There was a little break in Izuku’s voice and Katsuki saw a familiar sparkle in the corner of his eye. He never thought he’d be grateful to see Izuku cry, but it had been fucking unnatural of him to shut down like that.
“I know that must have been hard for you and considering… What’s happening tomorrow… You really didn’t have to. Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t think I realised how much I needed to hear it.”
Predictably, the sparkle had become a steady stream, so Izuku dug in his pocket, presumably for the already bloodied tissue. Katsuki wasn’t going to let that stand, so he grabbed a fresh one from the box behind him and shoved it in Izuku’s face.
“Oh... Thanks, Kacchan.” Once his eyes were somewhat clear again, he continued, “I know you said you don’t want to hear it. But I forgive you.”
Before Katsuki can even open his mouth to interject, the steel is back in Izuku’s gaze.
“The forgiveness isn’t for you, it’s for me. It’s my last day remembering you, I’m not going to hold back just because you feel you don’t deserve it.”
Katsuki is a petty fucker; he hates owing people and people owing him. It’s why he’d always been suspicious of how Izuku made this kindness and empathy shit seem so simple. But, god, now he really really wants to trust in it.
“I fell in love with you for a reason Kacchan. You’ve always been amazing and my life’s been so much brighter for having you in it. But even I was shocked by how hard you’ve worked to improve yourself over the last few months.” The intensity in Izuku’s gaze lightened a little and he began to smile big and warm, though sadness still shimmered in his eyes.
“You’ve truly become a hero in all the ways that matter, so please don’t be hard on yourself for my sake. I hope future-me will know how lucky he is to have you helping him.”
How did he fucking do that? How did a nerd like him just open his mouth and have words fall out that could make even a piece of shit like Katsuki feel like he was fundamentally good and deserved good things. Suddenly his reasoning for keeping his feelings from Izuku and making them both miserable felt really fucking flimsy.
Luckily, his throat was so tight he didn’t think he’d even be able to get any words out even if he wanted to. Eager to get out of there before he either declared his undying love or he cried again in front of Izuku, he gave as respectful of a bow as he could manage to give some sort of acknowledgement. He then left the room as quickly as he could without visibly fleeing.
Once he’d closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help but lean his back against it briefly, reluctant to put distance between himself and an Izuku that remembered him. He couldn’t force himself away for endless minutes, listening to the hints of movement, until he heard another bedroom door open down the hall and he hurried back to his room before he could be spotted.
Katsuki didn’t even try to pay attention at school the next day. It took far too much effort to shove down all his emotions and appear impassive. He didn’t think Izuku was doing much better. The normal mumbling and sounds of heavy scrawling behind him were absent and it sounded like he was placing his focus primarily on suppressing his coughs, which were much more frequent today. The other teachers must have been told something about his condition, since none of them made any noise about sending him to Recovery Girl.
Neither of them braved the cafeteria at lunchtime. Izuku headed in the direction of All Might’s office and Katsuki decided to compromise on his diet for the day and raid a vending machine. He arrived back at the classroom before Izuku and he managed to slide a pack of lozenges onto his desk without being seen.
At the end of the school day, Izuku rushed out the door before anyone could catch him. Katsuki grabbed the edge of his desk so hard that his knuckles turned white and wisps of smoke began to waft from between his fingers.
He was doing the right thing. Izuku’s, the ultimate martyr’s, opinions on the matter couldn’t be trusted. Izuku was sad now, but tomorrow he’d be better off and happier without him. The idea of those forest green eyes looking blankly at Katsuki may open a gaping maw in his chest, but Katsuki didn’t deserve to have feelings about this either way.
Once the classroom was empty and Katsuki was sure Izuku had time to get off campus, he shakily got to his feet. The idea of going back to the dorms made things seem more final for some dumb reason, so Katsuki let his feet make their way to find the other person he’d been avoiding for the last week.
All Might was in their usual meeting room, staring out the window and pensively drinking some tea. He didn’t look surprised when Katsuki plonked himself down on the sofa, just quietly greeted him before pouring another cup.
Katsuki couldn’t force himself to be annoyed that All Might was clearly expecting him. He really didn’t feel like braving the teacher’s lounge today.
“So, are you here to talk about Midoriya-shonen? And his… condition?”
Katsuki was glad that he cut to the chase and didn’t waste time being deliberately obtuse.
“Yeah. The nerd told you it’s because of me?”
“He did. He was very worried about you blaming yourself.” Of course that would be Izuku’s primary concern. All Might paused and seemed to be phrasing his next words carefully. “Though I am surprised it’s come to this.”
Despite spending all week telling himself he didn’t deserve Izuku, Katsuki couldn’t help but raise his hackles.
“What, you didn’t think your golden boy would fall for a bastard like me?”
“Oh, quite the contrary. Anyone with eyes can see how much he adores you. And that it would stretch to being in love isn’t much of a leap.”
All Might looked at him over the rim of his cup and gave a very pointed sip. Katsuki tried to resist interjecting for a moment, but his defences were down after his week of intense restraint.
“What?! There’s no way you wanted Deku to keep the fucking flowers.”
“Of course not. And I know better than anyone how passionate Midoriya-shonen is about the things he cares about, so I didn’t hold out much hope that it would go away on its own.”
“So… You thought that it would be cured… You thought that I…”
Fuck.
Katsuki felt heat rush up his neck and cover his ears, contrasting with the ice that shot through his heart and lungs.
“You thought that I would l-love him back?”
Katsuki was pretty sure that he landed well short of the scandalised and arrogant tone he was going for.
“Indeed. Though I was glad I hadn’t told him and gotten his hopes up once he told me about your conversation.”
If Katsuki was genuinely shocked by All Might’s prediction, he’d probably interject here and furiously ask what could have given All Might this insane idea. But he really didn’t want to hear about the sappy shit he’d been doing in front of All Might without realising.
“Good. ‘Cause you were wrong. Of course.”
Fuck, it felt wrong lying to All Might. Especially since he was doing such a terrible job of it and All Might could probably see right through him.
“Midoriya-shonen… He shares my bad habit of throwing himself away too easily when saving others. However, there is one area where he’s leaps and bounds ahead of me. I can’t say I have much experience of love in my own life. In all the decades since my master died, I’ve only risked opening up to a handful of people. I don’t want him to ever close himself off like I did.
Luckily, Midoriya-shonen is very different to me in that way. And if that bravery allows him to open up to and love someone completely and allow him to be loved completely in return, I believe it could help ground him. Help him remember that he matters outside of his ability to save others. Do you agree?”
Katsuki couldn’t help but acknowledge, “I do.”
All Might gave a deep and significant nod before continuing.
“We’ve talked before about how hard you’re working to atone for your past with Midoriya-shonen. And your desire to keep Midoriya-shonen at arms length because you don’t trust him to look out for his own best interests. I can’t help but wonder if these instincts might be… Clouding your judgement here?
Katsuki opened his mouth to instinctively disagree, but when All Might paused to let him interject, he found himself struggling to articulate the arguments that seemed so compelling yesterday.
“We both worry about Midoriya-shonen.” Katsuki doesn’t even put up a token attempt to deny it. “But while he’s more optimistic than most, I would say he’s a fine judge of character. And no-one can say that the boy doesn’t know his own mind. It would perhaps be unwise to decide what’s good for him on his behalf.”
All Might then folded his hands in his lap and waited for Katsuki to put together his rebuttal. When all of Katsuki’s arguments were still in tatters a minute later, his heart immediately leaped.
If All Might was rooting for his beloved protegée and Katsuki, who the fuck was Katsuki to say no?
Without pausing to say goodbye, Katsuki sprinted from the room, banging the door shut behind him.
Half a minute later, he sheepishly slid the door open again. Before he could say a word, All Might smiled indulgently and responded to the unasked question.
“Tatooin Hospital. Room 548”
“...Thanks, All Might.” Katsuki gave a quick, but respectful, bow of the head, before he loudly banged the door shut once more and rushed to the hospital.
Out of breath, and thankful for all those months of intense physical training, Katsuki arrived at Tatooin Hospital with twenty minutes to spare before the end of visiting hours. He stared at the door to Izuku’s room and gave himself a minute to catch his breath.
When one minute turned into two, and then three, he pinched himself to jolt himself out of his cowardice and jerked the door open.
He strode in with all the bravado he could muster and thankfully Izuku was lying on the only bed in the room.
He looked small and frail in a way Katsuki hadn’t seen him in over a year; his face wan and swallowed up in the stark white gown, sheets, and pillows that surrounded him. The rest of the room was little better; pale walls and flooring and only grey clouds visible outside the window. He knew that the washed-out colour scheme was considered best practice; soothing to the frazzled nerves of patients and easy to clean.
But it was deeply unnatural to see Izuku lost in it; someone who was always so full of life and enthusiasm and who loved surrounding himself in garish technicolour.
The tulip blooms in a bowl on the bedside table were a shockingly welcome contrast. He could hardly bear to look at them before; now the vitality of that infernal red helped him regain his focus.
“Kacchan!” After the initial moment of confusion, Izuku’s face lit up and Katsuki felt his heart glow at the sight. “What are you doing here? Visiting hours are almost…”
Izuku suddenly had to break off to cough into his sleeve. Katsuki rushed to the bedside locker to grab a tissue and push it into his hand. The fit seemed to go on endlessly, and every heave constricted Katsuki’s heart in response. By the time it was over, there were a handful of bloodstained tulip blooms on Izuku’s lap and his breathing was laboured and pained.
Katsuki poured him a glass of water and barely contained the shake in his hands as he handed it over. Once Izuku’s breathing was mostly back to normal, Katsuki took his own deep breath to dive right in.
“I… I… So I just talked to…”
Fuck. His pride had gotten them into this mess. If they were ever going to get past it, he needed to set all that bullshit aside. For both their sakes.
“Dumbass, you never actually asked me the most important question.”
Well, he’d never denied being a work in progress.
“Huh?! What question?”
“The question you ask when you’re dying of hanahaki and you want to avoid an unnecessary surgery.”
Izuku blinked slowly at him for a moment, before realisation and hope began to war in his eyes. Katsuki may call him a stupid nerd, but he knew all too well that Izuku was anything but stupid.
“Are… Are you in love with me too, Kacchan?” Katsuki let himself reach out and grab that scarred, beautiful hand the way he’d been dreaming this whole time. Their fingers interlocked so perfectly, it was like they were made for this.
“Yes, Izuku. I am.”
A wobbly smile climbed Izuku’s face and his eyes began to shine. Katsuki awkwardly stretched over with his other hand to grab the full tissue box. One tissue wouldn’t be enough and he wasn’t going to let go of this hand any time soon.
“You’re… You’re sure? You love me? You’re not just saying it to try and get rid of the hanahaki?”
“Of course you, dumbass.” Katsuki lightly smacked him over the head, before grabbing a tissue and wiping away Izuku’s tears as gently as hands like his could manage.
“You know me. I wouldn’t be capable of lying about something like that.” He waved their clasped hands lightly. “I’d barely manage ten seconds of this with someone I didn’t… L-love.”
He’d actually managed to get the word out. Maybe All Might was right, and he really wasn’t a lost cause.
“I’m sorry for how shitty this last week has been for you because I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know myself at first. But when I realised, I thought that you’d be better off without remembering me, that if we were together, I’d inevitably make you miserable and ruin us.”
“Oh, Kacchan…” Izuku reached out with his free hand and so very gently wiped at Katsuki’s cheeks with his thumb.
Katsuki hadn’t realised he’d started crying. Oh well, Izuku was probably used to it by now. He couldn’t help but turn his cheek into Izuku’s palm. In turn, Izuku shifted to cup his face and stare intently into his eyes.
“Did you not hear anything I said yesterday? I would never be better off without you. And sure, if we were the same people we were in middle school, we would probably be bad for each other. But you’re a better person now and I’m a better person now too. These days, I’ve no problem telling you when I think you’re out of line. You need to trust and believe in yourself and in me.”
Katsuki guiltily averted his gaze for a second, but his eyes were drawn back almost immediately. It was hard to look away when he’d thought lost his chance to have those eyes stare at him with such naked affection.
“I know that now. I… I talked to All Might. He had some not-terrible points.” Izuku’s intense expression immediately broke.
“Wow! You asked All Might for advice! I’m so glad you did, Kacchan! I’m sure he really appreciated it! People often underrate All Might’s intelligence and I know teaching didn’t come easily to him at first, but you know he got an S rank in the…”
Katsuki could now freely admit that he does find Izuku’s mumbling and overenthusiasm for hero and All Might related topics endearing. But they just had a big moment; he didn’t want Izuku distracted by talking about how amazing someone else was. So, he interrupted him as usual. Though maybe not in the usual way.
If anyone deserved all the tenderness that Katsuki could manage, it was Izuku. So, he was careful not to jerk forward too suddenly as he moved his face close to Izuku’s. When their lips were just inches apart, Izuku broke off from his rant with a shaky inhale. Katsuki was hyper aware of the fact that the rattle that had been present in every breath was now absent. When Izuku didn’t pull away, and even slid his hand to the back of Katsuki’s neck and drew him closer, Katsuki closed the remaining distance between their lips.
It was a revelation.
Katsuki was simultaneously floating on air and feeling secure and held in a way he never had before. Every time their lips pressed together it set off a shower of sparks and tingles. The angle and pressure were a little awkward at first; he was fairly certain that this was a first for both of them. But they were both fast learners and experts at predicting each other’s movements, so before long their slips slotted together at an angle that caused a thrill to run throughout Katsuki’s body. Izuku made a little sound in his throat in his response, and Katsuki lost himself for a second and pushed Izuku back further onto the mattress; all his considerable focus devoted to coaxing Izuku into making that sound again.
He couldn’t believe he almost gave up his chance at this.
Katsuki could probably do this forever, but a loud exclamation in their periphery caused them to jump guiltily apart. Katsuki got ready to defensively berate the person who interrupted without knocking, before he realised that they were alone. The sound must have come from outside the room.
They both breathed a sigh of relief and Katsuki checked his watch before sitting down on the bed.
“I’ve only got a couple of minutes before they’re going to come kick me out. Once you’re back at the dorms tomorrow, we can… Pick up where we left off.”
Katsuki smirked at Izuku, delighted to see his face go strawberry red, though he’s sure once Izuku stopped hiding behind his arms he’d notice Katsuki’s own ears had gone red-hot as well. Izuku’s response was muffled.
“I’ll call my mom after you leave. Hopefully they’ll let me go home tonight.” His eyes peeked out between his arms, and sure enough Katsuki saw his eyes flick to Katsuki’s ears immediately. Katsuki cleared his throat.
“I can’t promise that I’ll be great at this right away. This week has reminded me how shitty I am with emotions a lot of the time. But I will work as hard as I can to become the best b-boyfriend that your nerdy little head could ever dream of.”
Izuku tilted his head and smiled affectionately at him, before grabbing his hand again.
“Of course, Kacchan. I wouldn’t expect anything else. I know that I’m not going to be very good at this right away either. There’s no guarantee that we won’t mess this up. But as long as we love each other and we do our best to communicate, I believe we can build something amazing together.”
“I think we can too. That sounds…” beautiful “... great.”
He leaned down and gave Izuku a lingering kiss that sent warmth skittering all the way out to his extremities. He forced himself to pull away, not keen to give some random nurse a show, but he held onto Izuku’s hand as he walked away until they were forced to let go. Katsuki turned around one last time when he reached the door.
“Izuku. I love you.”
Izuku beamed so widely, it looked like it hurt, and the warmth in his eyes sank into Katsuki’s bones. He looked so happy.
“I love you too, Kacchan.”
