Chapter Text
Chapter 1. The Burning.
Izuku Midoriya was an anomaly for several reasons. He was Quirkless, he was a bit dense when it came to social situations, and he had two sets of words that appeared at the age of 10—about 5-7 years earlier than ordinary people.
The words burn when they appear, they feel like one of Katsuki’s explosions being pressed right on the most tender of his arm. He was sleeping. It wakes him and the pain is so disorienting that he’s convinced that he’s dying. When he is finally aware enough to realize that his upper arm was the only thing burning and that he isn’t burning alive, he begins to cry; deep sobs wrack his body, and despite his best efforts to keep his sobbing quiet, he can hear his mother open her bedroom door and walk through the hallway to his. He stifles the sobs, and it seems to be enough for his mom to make her way back to the room. Izuku waits until he hears her door click close, and then silently he cries himself to sleep.
He wakes hours later, in a daze. The clock on his nightstand reads 10. His mother has uncharacteristically let him sleep in. He can hear her movements in the kitchen. Izuku spends a moment staring up at the All-Might Poster taped above his bed.
Izuku rubs his eyes free of sleep and that’s when he sees the words. Two sets stacked on top of one another. The top set has already turned a scarlet red, symbolizing that they have already been spoken. He knows the words even without looking. He feels himself mutter them as he traces the letters. The bright red seems to mock him. Everything has changed. ( Maybe it will change again, a foolish part of his brain thinks.)
“You don’t have to be afraid. My name’s Katsuki.”
Izuku wonders if, in the house a few blocks away, the few words he spoke in response have also appeared on Kacchan’s arm. A part of his brain wonders if this will change anything. The words bring up a painful amount of reminiscing. Izuku takes a deep breath as he can feel the familiar dread building up in the pits of his stomach. Izuku forces himself to move on, to look at the pitch-black words that sit just under Kacchan’s words. The pit in his stomach seems to get wider and wider when he sees it.
“I am not here for friends.”
Izuku is at the very least worried, he is ignoring the small part of his brain that tells him to be scared. His hand instinctively touches the dark purple bruise on his calf, right where Katsuki kicked him during a game of kickball. He sighs. It seems like he has a type. Izuku begins making a mental catalog of his quarter-sleeved shirts. His mother will worry, and the thought of his mother worrying causes his own worry to grow louder and louder in his brain without much effort. He doesn’t notice his breathing until he feels his throat start to get dry and burn. He clenches his fingers and digs his fingernails into his palm until it begins to hurt. Izuku focuses on the slight pinch of pain and feels his breathing start to slow.
The clock reads 10:17, and if he waits any longer, he knows his mother will be there, in his room. He dresses quickly, finding a quarter sleeve baseball t-shirt and hoping his mother does not comment on his clothing. When he goes downstairs for breakfast, his mother doesn’t ask about last night. Izuku is not quite sure why it bothers him so much.
⚶⚶⚶
The knock on his door is unexpected. His mother has long gone to bed and Izuku is working on his work for the break at the dinner table. He hesitates to answer, knowing that no one would come to his house this late at night. Or at all, his brain reminds him, casually, of his lack of friends.
The knock comes again, louder this time. It breaks him from his trance. He opens the door, and despite the humidity, he feels a chill run through his body when he sees Katsuki at his door.
“Put on your shoes,” Katsuki says, his voice rough. He is pointedly avoiding eye contact with Izuku.
“Where are we—”
“On a walk, Deku, just put on your shoes before Auntie comes out here.” Katsuki’s fist clenches, and Izuku nods. He doesn’t want his mom asking questions either. His shoes slip on before following, taking special care to grab his keys. He doubts his mother will notice he’s gone but he doesn’t want to get locked out and risk her questions or grounding. By the time he turns to follow Katsuki is already headed down the street.
They walk in silence. Katsuki leads him to Takoba Park. It is covered in trash, and Katuski kicks a can into a larger pile. Finds a suitable piece of trash to sit on, before motioning Izuku to do the same. Izuku follows suit, his fingers messing with his nails.
“Stop that.” Katsuki barks out. “You’re always fidgeting with something. Just stay still.”
Izuku instinctively freezes, eyes downcast.
They sit in silence. Part of him wonders if the beach was clean and if they could hear the waves. The silence stretches and eventually, Izuku looks up. Green eyes meet Red,
Izuku looks away first. Katsuki scoffs.
“Pathetic, Deku—”
“Why are we here?” Izuku speaks before he can think. His throat tightens. His fist clenches. Katsuki doesn’t answer.
“You can’t show anyone.” Any fight that Izuku had, any hope is crushed with those four words, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t stop himself from saying the first thought that pops in his head.
“I don’t think I’m the pathetic one.” Izuku stands and begins to walk away. He makes it five steps before the can hits him in the head.
“Don’t walk away from me!” Katsuki yells. Izuku stops but doesn’t turn back.
“Give me a reason not to,” Izuku says and then waits.
“I can’t have you in my way.” Katsuki starts, his tone softer than before. Izuku turns back and looks at him. It’s Katsuki’s turn to look away. It takes everything in him not to scream.
“I can’t have you in my way, stopping me from being number one. If people know, it’s not like you can protect yourself. You’re always going to need saving Deku, and I can’t be saving you every other minute and have you stopping me from being number one.”
As Katsuki continues and continues Izuku stands there in shock. He doesn’t understand what he’s saying. If Kacchan is trying to say he cares, or what, it’s too much, Way too confusing, and the sense of dread that is ever-present in his stomach builds up. He can’t calm down and before he can register anything his nails are digging into his palm. The pain makes him try to focus, but there’s too much happening in his brain. He can’t tell if this is Kacchan or Katsuki or if there’s even a difference. His breathing is far too loud in his ears. The waves aren’t there and it’s driving him crazy. The world is dizzy and at some point, he starts to sit down.
He doesn’t realize Kacchan’s hands are in his, prying his nails from his palms until the pain stops. Kacchan doesn’t say anything. Izuku feels the sand in his palms. Izuku feels like he can breathe. Maybe you are the pathetic one, his brain whispers. It’s the grace of God that Kacchan doesn’t push his earlier point.
And maybe because it’s Kacchan helping him, and not Katsuki demanding it from him, that Izuku speaks next.
“I won’t show anyone,” he whispers. His throat is raw from the hyperventilating.
“Thank you,” Kacchan says so quietly, that Izuku could’ve mistaken it as a gust of wind. Izuku stands. Taking a few more deep breaths. Katsuki watches him for a second before he begins to walk back the way they came.
⚶⚶⚶
Nothing changes at first. Katsuki is just the same as always at school. The summer turns into fall, and soon the second term ends. Before Izuku knows it, the winter break is starting.
They have always had Christmas together. It’s the only time that Kacchan is around more than Katsuki is. It makes coming back for the final term so hard every year. This year is no different. Inko has been cooking and Izuku has been working on wrapping the presents. It’s always been relaxing for Izuku. It dregs up a memory from a long time ago, of a man with a deep voice and gentle hands. Izuku is meticulous as he wraps, carefully measuring and creasing. He curls the ribbons with scissors and catches his mother staring at him. Part of him wonders if she can remember those evenings Izuku spent with his father before he left. She doesn’t say if she does, Inko usually doesn’t say much at all honestly. Izuku meticulously places the presents under the tree, though it will only matter for the few hours before they place them into a bag and take it over to Kacchan’s house.
Izuku checks the news and Inko cooks but eventually, they pack up the presents and head over. The outside air is frigid but they make the short walk over. His mittens are too tight around his fingers so he keeps his hands balled up in his pocket. It hides his nerves from Inko.
Izuku bounces from foot to foot after they knock on the door. His eyes stay downcast. The warmth from the house hits him in the face, and he can’t help the smile when Auntie Mitsuki welcomes him warmly. It’s very different from the quiet welcome he gets in his own home.
“Katsuki’s in the living room, Izuku,” Mitsuki says, gently pushing him that way, while she takes the presents from Inko. Any dread from his walk melts away at the holiday decorations. Christmas has always been his favorite holiday.
When he enters the room, Katsuki is doing a puzzle on the coffee table. Izuku watches him for a few moments. “Hand me that piece over there, Deku.”
It startles Izuku and snaps him out of the daze. He scrambles to hand Kacchan the piece and then moves to sit across from him. He watches as Kacchan focuses on the puzzle, lip turning up.
“Are you just going to stare, or are you going to help?” Kacchan’s tone is softer than it usually is. It makes Izuku cautious to even speak. Instead, Izuku nods and begins to work on the edges of the puzzle. They work almost in sync, both wearing matching All-Might crewnecks. Neither notices the quiet click of a camera, as Masaru takes a picture of the beginning.