Work Text:
Twenty-four hours does not seem like much time, in hindsight. Though, it only takes a few short moments for any mind to break once it has been quiet for too long. As a countermeasure to the fragility of the human mind, mother nature has come up with endless ways to keep it busy, even at a subconscious level, in the moments where it is too fatigued to process anything past what it has already done.
You will often see or smell fresh rain before you hear it on your roof or feel it soaking into your skin. You will feel a strong gust of breeze before you see it shake the trees around you. You will see bright colours burst and dance across the sky before you process that another day is done.
From where he is perched on the front steps of class 2-A’s Heights Alliance Dorm, Izuku Midoriya can just see the colours of the newest sunset over the towering walls that now surround and hide U.A. High. He’s taken to spending quiet moments by himself, ever so aware of the many eyes constantly on his back, as though the very thought of looking away, of losing sight of him, scared those who paid the most attention.
His classmates all seem more mature than he remembers. A blanket of hardened exterior settling over every one of them, always someone at his side since his return to U.A. Students, teachers, and parents alike. Todoroki or Asui, steadfast and silent during breakfast. Ashido or Jirou filling the crisp air with quiet conversation during morning training. All Might, Aunt Mitsuki, Uncle Masaru, and/or his own mother at lunch time prattling about one thing or the next. Uraraka, Iida, Yaoyurozu, and Kaminari always join him for afternoon studies. Aoyama and Tokoyami sometimes appearing and quietly asking questions.
Everything is so quiet in the dorms. So very different than how he’d left it. What was once a building filled with boisterous noise and laughter and a feeling of familiarity and camaraderie is now covered in a heavy sheet of frightened anticipation.
Nineteen children in age only.
He’d expected as much when they’d caught up to him on The Outside. They’d all seemed so frightened then, even under their hardened determination. And compared to the screams and smell of burning wood and rotting flesh, he quite welcomes the quiet.
One thing he hadn’t expected was his newly gained shadow.
Katsuki Bakugou had always been a leader. Even in their earliest days of life. He’d long since admired that about the boy. Shouts of ”walk behind me!” never too far behind the flaxen teen. However, since Katsuki had poured his heart at Izuku’s feet in a torrential downpour and whipped his ears with the sound of the green-eyed boy’s own name in the bath, he’d never so much as let Izuku out of his sight. Though he never seemed to want to stray any closer. Always hovering, presence known but never approaching.
Izuku feels the boys gaze as he sits on the steps. Somewhere behind him, unwavering but unapproaching. The air between them had shifted after they’d been informed that Shigaraki had resurfaced. Izuku can feel Katsuki’s determination building, and he’s been gearing up for a confrontation, and the freckled teen is unsure of exactly who the other boy plans to confront. He thinks idly about what truly speaking to his oldest friend would be like since all their history had been laid bare between them so voluntarily by the other boy. He feels excitement for the prospect of further mending their relationship, fear at what that would mean, and bone deep loss because he knows they probably have very little time left.
He turns back to the wall and watches as the colours begin to shift above the highest peaks. Orange, pinks, and soft yellows slowly bleeding into each other.
Suddenly, there is a gust of cool air on his cheekbone. In his periphery, he sees condensation on a clear bottle, long, slender fingers with blunt nails, pale skin over rippling muscles, broad shoulders, and then his own round eyes meet ruby.
“Thanks, Kacchan.” He says accepting the bottle and taking three long gulps.
Katsuki doesn’t walk away like he’d expected. Instead, the unusually stoic boy sits next to him on the steps. Though he makes no move to say anything. Izuku waits.
And waits.
And waits.
The colours in the sky begin to fade into lilac.
He waits.
The temperature drops slowly.
“Did you need something, Kacchan?” He asks tentatively, turning to face his... friend?
Katsuki is looking at the sky, much like he had just been. Still the boy says nothing, so Izuku nods, smiles to himself and turns back to the view.
“Look,” Katsuki says into the silence. “You might hate me for this but I need to say it.”
Izuku feels his eyebrows draw together in confusion. He could never hate Katsuki. Not truly. He begins to turn his head to say as much but finds that there is now a large, calloused hand restricting his mobility, keeping his eyes to the sky.
“Kaccha-“
“Don’t!” Katsuki snaps. “Don’t fucking… don’t look at me, okay?”
His voice sounds strange. Strained in a way that suggests that he might be in pain. Izuku thinks about the injuries Katsuki had sustained when saving his life and thinks perhaps he owes him this much. He nods for the boy to continue, and the hand falls away. He sees Katsuki take a deep shuddering breath and then the blond speaks.
“If you don’t come back… I don’t come back.”
Silence.
Breeze flutters the leaves of the nearby trees.
The sky is almost entirely lilac now, the clouds darkening with the fading light.
They look almost like the smoke in the aftermath of an explosion.
“Wha-“
“If you go down, I go down.”
His head snaps to Katsuki. He finds the boy already looking at him. His eyes are blazing… appearing to almost glow as the colour in everything else around them desaturates.
Izuku flounders, lump forming in his throat making it hard to swallow. Another gust of wind shifts the air around his face, Izuku wants to desperately to gulp some down, but he cannot move.
“If you die,” Katsuki continues, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I die.”
A startled, wheezing noise escapes from between the thin sliver of space between Izuku’s lips.
“Kacchan!” He reels. “Why would yo-“
“You wouldn’t do that to my parents would you?”
Izuku shuts down.
“You wouldn’t do that to Auntie… would you?”
It is silent for a very long time. His mind is running a mile a minute. He is angry, he is hurt, he wants to yell and scream because why is Kacchan saying this?
Most glaringly of all? He is absolutely terrified. Stunned into silence… because Katsuki’s voice had been resigned. Resolute as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing Izuku has ever heard. His tone steady and cold like the twilight air around them.
But his eyes had been pleading. He does not want to die... but he will.
Izuku breathes a shaky exhale, lump in his throat growing ever larger, tears forming and spilling from his eyes. Leaves rustle somewhere to his left.
“Why?” He wails between sobs. “Kacchan, why? Why would you say that?”
“It’s the only way.” Katsuki says. “You won’t take care of yourself for you… but you’ll do it for me… right, Izuku? You’d come back for me?”
Katsuki asks the question but from the look in his eye, Izuku can tell it is rhetorical.
Katsuki looks... sad. There are unshed tears glistening in his eyes. They do not fall.
The green haired boy sobs even harder.
He would raze the world for Katsuki Bakugou.
“We’ll talk about it after.” Katsuki says gently, though he makes no move to comfort the boy he’d all but broken with only a few words. “When we both come back.”
Katsuki turns away from him, back to the now navy-blue sky, dotted with brilliant stars. The sound of Izuku’s sobbing slowly fading into other nighttime noises.
He would burn the world for Izuku Midoriya… even if Izuku Midoriya had to perish in the flames of his making.