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It starts with a villain attack. Midday, on a random Tuesday. People shouting, destruction and chaos littering the streets as multiple heroes chase down some low-life criminals who decided they wanted their own headline in the news today. Gunshots make his ears ring, the sheer volume of sound making everything blend together. He hears someone he knows, maybe. So much sound. Too much sound.
He blindly jumps at one of the villains, trying to make the sound just stop. If the villains are arrested, it’ll die down, right? He feels drugged, wobbling on his feet and blinking something red and thick out of his vision. Blood, his mind supplies. Where did it come from? Is it his? That would explain the headache…
The villain dodges, leaping out of his field of vision. Sharp pain shoots through him; he’s too dizzy to follow where the villain went. He can’t do anything like this, on the verge of passing out. Where is everyone? Why isn’t a hero—a real hero—coming to help him? What’s going on? His memories are fuzzy; he doesn’t even remember how this fight began or how he ended up on scene.
All of a sudden, something happens. It comes out of nowhere. A ray of blue—or is it teal?—light, striking him with pinpoint precision. The villain. They let off one shot, and it hits him dead center. His heart, his already fragile heart. It shoots through him like a bullet, knocking him down to the ground instantly. It wasn’t a bullet, though, was it? He hopes it wasn’t; Izuku will kill him if he dies again.
The last thing he hears is the maniacal cackling coming from the villain who’d just shot him. He can’t even make out what they look like, only seeing blobs of colors mushed together, looming over him. Taunting him.
“Good luck being ‘Dynamight’ without any firepower, hero!”
Then it all fades to black.
____
Beep, beep, beep, beep…
God, that sound is fucking annoying.
He slowly cracks his eyes open, only to be blinded by the sickening glow of fluorescent lighting. He groans and notices immediately that his throat is extremely dry, the small noise coming out as a broken croak.
“Kacchan—oh my god. You’re awake!”
Huh? What the fuck is Izuku doing in his dorm— Oh.
The memories all flood back: the fact that he was grocery shopping downtown when he’d seen a few villains flying past with heroes on their tail, how he’d joined in to help, and the way he’d been hit from behind while midair, causing him to fall and smash his head on the concrete. He even remembers the part of the fight that landed him in this hospital bed, the teal-blue glow of what is definitely going to be a pain in his ass. Of course, he got hit with some random extra’s quirk. That’s just his life. Fuck, he’s as reckless as Izuku, isn’t he?
“Don’t try to talk—ah, I have to go get Recovery Girl. Kacchan, what were you thinking? You were so—so reckless! You could have died. Again! Do you know how freaked out I was when I—”
He lifts a hand to Izuku’s shoulder, effectively shutting him up. Right now, it’s Katsuki’s turn to speak.
“I—ugh, water.” His voice cracks horribly. Shitty-ass body, can’t even fucking function correctly. You’d think IV fluids would keep him hydrated enough, but nooo. It doesn’t work that way, apparently.
Izuku’s already-wide eyes miraculously find a way to widen even further, and he darts over to a small tray table with a pitcher and some paper cups. He pours the water into a cup, his shaky hands causing him to spill some down the sides. Katsuki’s heart clenches at the sight; knowing his stunt today caused Izuku this much stress kills him. Not literally this time around, but the sentiment is still there.
Once handed the water, Katsuki downs it all in a few seconds flat. Then, clearing his throat, he finally speaks.
“Izuku. I’m—fuck,” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “I’m okay. And sorry, I’m sorry about today. I thought I could help.”
Izuku looks like he wants to interrupt, Katsuki silences him with a knowing look before he can even open his mouth.
He makes a sound in the back of his throat as he tries to shift in bed, pain flaring up in his head and chest. “I need to talk to Recovery Girl about something that happened during the fight. Can you go get her? Get something to eat in the cafeteria, too. I know damn well you’ve been here since I was brought in.”
Now allowed to speak, Izuku does what he always does, and tries to bargain with Katsuki.
“I’ll go get her, but I want to stay with you. I’m sure I can get something delivered; we’re practically frequent fliers here now. Or I could just wait to eat until you come back to the dorms!” He puts a hand on Katsuki’s thigh, a kind, friendly gesture that makes the tips of Katsuki’s ears burn bright red.
Usually, this kind of negotiation would work on him, always caving to Izuku’s every whim ever since the war ended, but he doesn’t want Izuku in the room when he tells Recovery Girl about the quirk he was hit with. Hell, he doesn’t want Izuku hearing any of the details from today. He doesn’t need to know; it’ll only worsen his already sky-high anxiety.
“No, go eat, dipshit. I’ll be fine without you for a few minutes. I want to talk to her alone, anyway.”
A hurt look crosses Izuku’s face, yet he nods in resignation and moves toward the door anyway. Shit.
“Hey,” Katsuki calls, watching Izuku closely as he turns again. “You can come right back. I’m not banishing you or some shit, I just need to tell her some personal stuff. I’m not mad.”
Izuku’s face softens, and it melts Katsuki’s heart. The soft “Okay, Kacchan,” that he hums before leaving doesn’t make the feeling any better. Sliding himself downward in bed until he’s fully lying on his back, Katsuki slings an arm over his face with a loud groan. Stupid, annoying, adorable nerd.
____
After speaking with her, Recovery Girl runs about a million and one tests on Katsuki. She makes him sit, stand, walk, turn, and just about anything else his body is physically capable of. It’s pissing him off.
The heroes haven’t caught that villain yet; it seems he’d gotten away while everyone was focused on Katsuki’s well-being, or rather, lack of well-being. So, he’s being tested to see what the hell that villain did to him. For all they know, the quirk was what made him pass out, and that’s the end of it. They can’t be sure, though, so here he is, 4 hours later, still doing tests.
“Hey, Kacchan.” Izuku says from beside him. Right now, he’s doing some sort of strength test, holding a weight that’s been quirked to gradually get heavier until he reaches his limit. How this will find what the villain did to him, he has no clue, but he’s learned better than to disagree with Recovery Girl’s methods in the three years he’s known her.
Katsuki throws Izuku a questioning glance, casually tossing the weight from hand to hand as it’s still only at five pounds. His throat is still a little sore, so the less he talks, the better.
“Um, did the villain say anything to you? A clue as to what he did, or really anything at all?”
Huh. He hadn’t thought of that. With a hum, Katsuki begins sorting through his very blurred memory, trying to recall anything important. The fight was mainly silent; at least, he thinks it was. His hearing was jacked up when he hit his head, the loud ringing in his ears probably blocked a lot out. Really, the only thing he remembers the villain saying was right at the end, when he’d shouted at Katsuki about his firepower—
Dread pools in Katsuki’s stomach and he drops the weight in his hand, narrowly missing his feet. Izuku scrambles to grab it, shock adorning his features as he stands, now holding the weight. He doesn’t attempt to give it back to Katsuki, choosing to stare at him in bewilderment instead.
“Kacchan?” He asks, but Katsuki isn’t listening. He flexes his hand, staring down at it. He tries to let off a small explosion. Nothing. Not the smallest pop, not even smoke. His breathing quickens and he closes his hand into a fist, snapping his head up to look Izuku in the eye.
“I’m quirkless.”
____
The next few hours went by in the blink of an eye for everyone but Katsuki, who felt like time was dragging on at a snail's pace. Phone call upon phone call, frantic whispering just outside his hospital room, even more tests, just for him to be sent back to the dorms with a weak promise of “finding the person who made him quirkless.”
As of right now, all they know is that the villain doesn’t have his quirk. The working theory is that they made it stop working, similar to how Aizawa can cancel people’s quirks. It’s just… prolonged, in this case.
Katsuki is numb to all of it, honestly. You’d think he’d be upset, yelling, possibly trying to leave and go find the villain himself, but he’s too tired for any of that. He’s worn out, mentally and physically, paralyzed with the fear that this might be permanent.
He’d promised himself that he’d become a great hero, a hero worthy of taking Izuku’s rightful position of number one if Izuku couldn’t do it himself. If they’re both quirkless, how could he? He wouldn’t only be losing his own dream, but Izuku’s too. He can’t handle that. Not now, not ever.
The lack of a quirk is an odd sensation, truly. One that’s incredibly hard to put into words, something that can’t quite be explained unless you go through it yourself. He doesn’t feel or look any different, but at the same time, he does. The power that would course through his veins is gone, the low thrum he’d never really noticed before. He feels the absence so much more than he ever felt the power. Feels it in the way his palms don’t give off small sparks when they start to sweat, or in the ever-so-slight change of rhythm on the heart monitor he was hooked up to. What used to be his resting heart rate is now what he’d achieve while jogging. It’s jarring, to say the least.
Weirdly enough, however, he isn’t thinking about himself in this moment. Sitting on his bed back in the dorms, staring at the door, all he can think about is Izuku. How he must’ve felt, losing his quirks. Knowing it was permanent, that it’d be so much more difficult—if not impossible—to achieve his goal, his dream. The one thing he wanted, that he had in the palm of his hands, only to be stolen away from him like it’d never even happened. All the scars he’d gotten just cruel reminders of a life left behind.
Tears prick in Katsuki’s eyes, both for Izuku and himself. Izuku always put on such a brave face after the war; how did he do it? How did he cope with that tragedy and maintain a bright smile on his face? “We won the war, Kacchan! It’s okay now.” he says. Everything is okay, but he lost almost everything in that war. His quirk, his future… he came close to losing Katsuki, too.
A knock on his door breaks Katsuki from his spiral. Just as he opens his mouth to tell whoever it is to “go the fuck away,” the knob turns, revealing a very worried Izuku. Of course it’s him; it’s always him.
“Kacchan, hey—I, uh. I was looking for you. How are you?” Izuku walks in, uninvited, and stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. Katsuki had given Izuku a spare key to his dorm shortly after the war; at the time, it was because a few doctors had suggested he have someone who’s able to get to him if he had any health complications, but he hadn’t ever asked Izuku to return it. Not even after he’d been given a clean bill of health.
“‘M fine, Izuku. You don’t have to worry about me.” Katsuki mutters, gesturing toward his bed; a wordless offer to Izuku, letting him know he’s allowed to be comfortable in Katsuki’s space.
Izuku takes him up on that, moving to sit in the middle of the mattress. He huffs, softly, gazing up at Katsuki with a soft, wobbly smile that makes his stomach do backflips.
“I don’t believe that, Kacchan. I know you’re strong, and that you can get through anything, but—well, I know what this is like. Losing your quirk, I mean. Please don’t put on a brave face for me… it’s kind of insulting, after everything.” Izuku leans forward, placing a hand on Katsuki’s knee.
He’s right. If anyone deserves the truth from Katsuki—the whole truth—it’s Izuku.
“Shit. I’m… I just feel weird, right now at least. Like it isn’t real. Is that normal?” Katsuki directs his attention up and away from the hand on his knee, instead looking into Izuku’s eyes, breath catching as he does. Seeing him up close like this is doing things to Katsuki’s heart.
“…Yeah,” Izuku breathes after a few tense seconds of eye contact. “Yeah, it’s normal. It took me a few months to come to terms with it fully. I still try to use them, sometimes. I’ll see something start to fall and try to use blackwhip to pick it up, which means the thing just falls and breaks when I could’ve easily moved and caught it normally.
“It’s—it isn’t easy, but you get used to it as time goes on. Not to say this’ll be permanent for you, though! Recovery Girl says that she and the heroes who were on scene are hopeful that this is temporary, and are working on finding the villain as we speak.”
Katsuki lightly scoffs, letting his eyes fall away from Izuku yet again. He resists the urge to put a hand atop Izuku’s. “I hate it when people say they’re ‘hopeful’ about something. Yeah, we’re hopeful you won’t have trauma from that one time you got kidnapped, hopeful you’ll eventually live a normal life even though you died. So fuckin’ hopeful.”
Izuku sniffles, so softly Katsuki wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t been sitting so close. He looks back up, and small tears are rolling down Izuku’s cheeks. Katsuki turns, hand lifted halfway between them. He wants to wipe the tears away, but he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to.
Fuck it, Izuku can get mad if he wants to. Katsuki lifts his hand the rest of the way, swiping away the tears with his thumb. Izuku lets out a stuttering breath, leaning into the touch slightly.
“Kacchan… I’m so sorry. About—about all of this. Your quirk, the war, all of it—I’m so sorry.”
Katsuki’s brow furrows as he lets his hand fall back to his side. Why is Izuku apologizing? He didn’t do anything wrong. Letting his impulse get the best of him, Katsuki leans forward and wraps Izuku in a hug. He buries his face in Izuku’s hair, momentarily closing his eyes.
“There’s nothing to apologize for, none of that is your fault.” He says after a moment, eyes still closed as Izuku wraps his arms around Katsuki’s torso. They stay like that for a while, until Izuku’s breathing evens out and he pulls back a bit. They let go of each other, sitting normally once again. Katsuki misses the touch already.
“Thank you. I think—well, if you want, I could help you? While you don’t have your quirk… I got kinda good at being quirkless, you know?” Izuku laughs, voice wavering.
A pause. Katsuki hadn’t even thought about how different life would be while he’s quirkless. The daily things he does or doesn’t do, things he wouldn’t have to avoid anymore, things he would have to avoid because he can’t use his quirk to save him… Everything’s going to be a lot different for the unforeseeable future, and he has no clue how to navigate it.
“Alright. Yeah, I’d like that—for you to help me. I don’t think I’ll have any clue how to deal without some help.” He murmurs, watching as Izuku’s eyes sparkle with something he can’t quite recognize.
“Yeah, Kacchan. I’m here for you. Always.”
And that’s true, isn’t it? There’s never been a time Izuku wasn’t there. Katsuki hopes there never is.
____
The next morning is… weird. Katsuki makes his way downstairs at around 5:30am, as he does most mornings, and immediately heads for the gym.
During his workout, there are about twelve times he attempts to use his quirk, only to be disappointed. He’s found that he’s a lot colder without his quirk, which isn’t great overall, though as he works up a sweat he doesn’t find himself overheating, which is a plus. Also, he smells. Like normal, human body odor. That isn’t normal for him, usually his sweat doesn’t smell like anything at all, just like nitroglycerin doesn’t have a scent.
Resigned to the fact that he’ll have to shower to rid himself of the smell, he does just that after finishing up a shorter-than-usual routine. Stepping under the warm spray of water, he exhales deeply, the warmth a familiar sensation that only serves to deepen the ache in his bones. He may never feel the warmth of his quirk against his skin again, may have to get used to showering after every workout because his sweat isn’t the odorless nitroglycerin-like substance it once was.
Soon enough, his tears mix with the water pouring down onto his face. He lets himself cry silently, pretending that it’s all just the water from the showerhead. He rests a hand against the wall, shakily sighing. This sucks. It really, really sucks. He shouldn’t be this upset about a stupid quirk; he should be over it by now. Whether he gets it back or not, he shouldn’t be so torn apart that he’s reduced to a crying mess, hiding his shame and sadness beneath a steady stream of water.
Unfortunately for Katsuki, he’s learned from a couple years of therapy that emotions aren’t actually something you can control or shove down until you’re numb, so he’s sticking with the shame shower.
After a few more minutes of wallowing, Katsuki steps out from under the water and grabs a towel, drying himself off quickly. He dresses in a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants, slinging a small towel around his neck to keep the ends of his hair from dripping water onto his shirt. It’s all robotic, muscle memory. He’s starting to zone out, his tears finally running dry and his mind slowly going from too many thoughts to blank. Maybe it’ll stay that way, and he’ll forget all about losing his quirk. He’s allowed, just this once, to want to forget, right? Please, just let him forget.
____
Venturing into the kitchen, he finds that no one is awake. At least, no one is downstairs yet, who’s to say if they’re awake or not. It’s relieving, actually, to be alone for a little while longer. He decides to make himself some breakfast. When he cooks in the mornings, he likes to play music, something little that he’s been doing since he became a third year at UA. He’d never have thought to indulge in little things like these in his younger years. “That’s progress,” his UA-mandated therapist says. “Allowing yourself something simple, that doesn’t hold any actual meaning. Just music, something solely for enjoyment.”
He thinks that’s bullshit, truthfully. She says that his workouts aren’t 'simple' or 'just for enjoyment' because he’s working out to become a hero. That he needs something in his life that doesn’t have a bigger meaning weighing it down, something that has no real meaning at all. At the time, he didn’t want to pick a fight with her, so he chose music.
A pop-punk song that Katsuki vaguely recognizes plays softly from his phone when he hits shuffle on his playlist, so he sets the phone down and gets to work making himself something to eat. He’ll probably just make eggs, he can’t really stomach anything else right now.
He moves around the kitchen swiftly and efficiently, grabbing a pan, utensils, and the ingredients for scrambled eggs. It’s an easy dish, he doesn’t have to think too hard about it. He’s still fairly calm and zoned out, distracted by the low beat of the music paired with the quiet you only really get early in the morning. He’s startled out of his head, however, when he hears humming. Turning on his heel, who else could it be but Izuku in the doorway, bopping his head along to whatever song is currently playing.
“Hey, Kacchan. Are you making eggs?” He asks, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world. Well, it is, but still.
“Uh, yeah. You want some?” Katsuki asks, hesitant for some reason. Izuku ambles over, lifting himself up to sit on the counter beside the stove.
“Hm, sure! Are you making them with cheese, or…” Izuku trails off, peering down at the pan, pumping his fist and triumphantly grinning when he sees that Katsuki is indeed making the eggs with cheese.
Katsuki huffs a laugh, poking Izuku’s arm with the side of the spatula he’s holding. “Dork. They’re almost done, grab two plates from the cabinet by your head.”
“Alright, Captain Kacchan!” Izuku salutes, one hand up to his forehead and all. The gesture makes Katsuki snort. After putting his hand down, Izuku shifts and grabs the plates, setting them next to where he’s sitting. Then, he turns back to Katsuki with a more determined expression, his soft smile still lingering.
“So. How’s it been, so far? Being quirkless, I mean. Have you been… okay? I mean obviously you aren’t okay—”
“Izuku.” Katsuki cuts him off, mouth downturned into a small scowl, though fondness remains in his eyes as he looks at his—well, childhood friend? Rival? Best friend? Ex-bully victim? The guy Katsuki is in love—
Okay. Not going down that road right now. “I’m alright, mostly. I kept trying to use it this morning, and I’ve already found a lot of small differences, things my quirk changed that I didn’t even realize. I’m okay, though. It’s not as horrible as I thought it’d be… yet, at least.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good! That’s really good. Uh…” Izuku trails off again, a look in his eye that Katsuki recognizes. Izuku only makes that face when there’s something he doesn’t want to say.
“Spit it out.” Katsuki huffs, concern lacing his tone.
“Ugh. Kacchan, I’m so sorry, seriously I don’t know why they decided to do this and—and I tried to talk them out of it! But they wouldn’t listen so—”
“Izuku.”
“Kacchan…” Izuku pouts, whimpering like a dog. “They said you can’t participate in training until you either get your quirk back or… um, confirm that it’s gone for good.”
Katsuki drops the spatula he’s holding.
“Are you fucking serious? That could take weeks—months! I don’t have that kind of time to waste!” He yells, not at Izuku, just in general. A smaller, more rational side of his brain understands why they’re keeping him from training; hell, Izuku skips out on most of it nowadays, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.
“I know, and I tried to convince our teachers to let you continue training, but they said it’s too risky! The quirk you were hit with could have major side effects you haven’t discovered yet. They said you and I can spend the extra time together, though! You know, since I skip some of the exercises our class does… uh, and, they want me to keep an eye on you. To make sure you don’t train behind their backs.”
Katsuki scoffs, bending down to grab the spatula and muttering under his breath. “Jesus, they fucking—ugh. I knew they didn’t trust me for shit.”
“It’s not that they don’t trust you, you just have a track record for… well, not listening to reason. And for overworking yourself, might I remind you of how you literally died, came back to life, then kept fighting?” Izuku drawls, raising an eyebrow. He only uses that against Katsuki when he’s really trying to win an argument, so Katsuki knows there’s no way out of this.
He scrapes the scrambled eggs out onto the two plates beside Izuku, using a fork because he obviously isn’t going to be using the floor spatula.
“…Fine. Having a free period with you won’t be the worst thing ever, anyway.” Shit. He didn’t mean to say that, even though it’s true.
“Aww, Kacchan!” Izuku beams, capturing Katsuki in a hug after he’d set the pan and fork down. It’s awkward, with Izuku still sitting on the counter and his arms wrapped around Katsuki’s neck. Katsuki leans into it nonetheless, a small smile finding its way onto his face as he buries his nose in Izuku’s eternally messy hair for the second time in as many days.
After a few seconds, Katsuki pulls away. “Your damn eggs are going to get cold,” he grumbles. He could’ve stayed like that with Izuku for a lot longer, but he’s been doing a damn good job of hiding his feelings over the last year and he’s not about to let a hug ruin all of that effort.
Maybe one day he won’t need to hide how he feels. He has himself convinced that Izuku could never return his feelings, especially not after how he acted in junior high, but every night when he lies down and falls fast asleep, Izuku is the main character of his dreams. A future with him is all Katsuki wants, one where life is like this forever. Izuku, sitting on the counter while Katsuki cooks, hugging him when he makes an unexpectedly sweet comment. Playful banter with heartfelt moments intertwined. The only thing that would drastically change is the amount that they kiss…
Katsuki would give anything for that—not just the kissing. He doesn’t need his quirk, not if Izuku is by his side for the rest of their lives. He thought they’d be competing all that time, fighting to rise higher than the other in the hero ranks, but if they both don’t have quirks, maybe they can just… be. Maybe Izuku being there is enough. Katsuki doesn't need anything but Izuku’s presence in his life.
____
They choose to spend their newfound extra time together in each other’s dorms. It started because Katsuki had gone back to his dorm to grab a hoodie, and Izuku had followed on his heels. Katsuki decided to let him in, to spend the hour doing nothing together. The first few minutes were spent slightly awkwardly, sitting on the edge of Katsuki’s bed and talking, but by time class had ended for all of their classmates, Katsuki and Izuku were lying on their stomachs on his bed, laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe.
The next day, they go to Izuku’s room, where they spend 45 minutes arguing over All Might’s best merchandise manufacturer. That led to them fighting over Wikipedia information about him, which then led to them wrestling on Izuku’s floor. It was fun, making them both feel like children again. They probably had this same argument as kids, honestly.
As Katsuki watches Izuku’s eyes shine with unshed tears from laughing so hard, he decides he could absolutely live like this forever.
By day three, he’d completely forgotten why he’d loved his quirk so much.
____
A week flies by like no time at all. Katsuki has gotten into a new routine, one where he makes breakfast in the morning (which inevitably includes making extra for Izuku), going about his classes as usual, spending the last class of the day with Izuku in one of their dorms, and then working out at night. He changed to nightly workouts because that’s when he usually showers; now that he has to worry about the way he smells, it’s easier to change his workout routine than his hygiene.
His workouts are a lot less rigorous, as well. Izuku taught him his personal routine, which took only a few hours to learn. That’s another part of his day Izuku has made himself a part of, and Katsuki is far from complaining.
Tonight, Izuku decided he wanted to run, so he dragged Katsuki out and off of UA’s campus. Now, they’re both jogging alongside each other, a leisurely pace that still allows for some mellow conversation.
“It’s been a week now, Kacchan. How are you?” Izuku hums, eyes trained on the pavement beneath him, but Katsuki knows that Izuku’s full attention is on him.
“Better. I’m getting used to it, I don’t try to use it as often. It’s still really weird to have so many physical differences, but I’ve adjusted for the most part.” Katsuki replies, glancing over at Izuku with a wistful look. All throughout this time, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how strong Izuku is to cope with his own loss of his quirk, and the fact that he’d lived for so long like this before One For All. It makes him feel like even more of a jerk for using Izuku’s quirklessness against him throughout their childhood.
“Yeah… I didn’t really have that after the war; I’d been quirkless so long, having a quirk felt unusual. I’m glad you’re doing alright, though. I thought, well—uh, never mind.” Izuku says, brow furrowing as he cuts himself off. Weird.
Katsuki slows to a stop; Izuku slows as well when he notices Katsuki isn’t beside him anymore. Now a few feet apart, Katsuki pins Izuku with a questioning glare.
“You thought what, Izuku?” He says, not aggressive, just confused.
“It’s nothing, Kacchan. Don’t worry about it.” Izuku bites his lip, rubbing a hand up and down his left arm. He shifts on his feet, glancing in the direction they were running, obviously anxious to be done with this topic.
“Now that you’ve said it, I’m going to worry about it. Just say what you were going to say, seriously.” Katsuki kicks at a pebble on the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets. Usually, that move would be to keep himself from setting off sparks, but now it’s become a habit of his, quirk or no.
“I—well, I thought you’d have a harder time with being quirkless. Y’know, because of how you, uh. How you treated me in junior high. You didn’t—you bullied me, Kacchan, and you brought up my quirklessness a l—”
“Are you fucking serious?” Katsuki cuts him off. “That’s not—mother of fuck.” He mutters, swiping a hand through his hair and taking a step back, a disbelieving expression adorning his features.
“Tell me I’m wrong! You called me ‘quirkless, defenseless Deku’ all the time! You can’t expect me to think you’d take your own quirklessness lightly?” Izuku scoffs, throwing his hands up before crossing them over his chest. His eyes are wide, watching Katsuki’s reaction like it’s the last thing he’d expected.
“That’s not—I didn’t—fuck, Izuku.” Katsuki stammers, looking up from the ground with wild eyes. Multiple emotions run through him all at once: guilt, anger, sadness, shock… He’s dumbfounded, wanting to explain himself but only being able to get out a few words.
He takes a step forward, and Izuku stays put. He breathes a shaky breath, and glares at the ground. This gives them both an odd sense of deja vu, reminding them of a certain conversation they had that ended in Katsuki apologizing and Izuku collapsing into his arms.
Izuku takes a step forward now, slowly closing the distance. Just a few feet are left between them, Izuku watching with concern as Katsuki works up the courage to say something that’s been on his mind since long before this quirk incident. One last shaky sigh, and Katsuki feels ready to lay it all out. To pour his heart out to the only person he’s ever trusted this way, the only person he’s ever cared about in a way that terrifies him. The thought of messing up and losing him for good makes Katsuki nauseous.
“Izuku. I didn’t bully you because you were quirkless. That was just the dumbass excuse I used. I bullied you—” He cuts himself off, sharply exhaling. Tears pool in the corners of his eyes as he glances upward, needing to say the rest of this directly to Izuku. No barriers, no invisible walls dividing them anymore.
“I bullied you because you made me feel weak. You—you’ve always been better than me, even when you were physically weaker. A better person, with better ideals and a better personality. You scared me, I wanted to be better but I knew I couldn’t. So… I pushed you away. Convinced myself I’d always surpass you, held my power over you just to try and make myself feel good. I never felt good about what I did, not really. I regret it everyday and—and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. To fix the past. I swear to you, though, I will and have worked every single day to make it up to you. I want to make it up to you, Izuku, because damn it I—fuck, I’m in love with you.”
Katsuki’s hands are shaking by the time he’s finished, goosebumps covering his arms and tears streaming down his face. He’s torn away every layer of himself, baring his naked soul to Izuku in a way he still doesn’t feel completely comfortable with. Confessed something that could ruin everything he’s worked for, the trust he’s built with Izuku. He’s broken himself down until he’s nothing but pieces, and he’s praying to whatever higher power might be out there that Izuku helps put him back together.
“Kacchan.” Izuku whispers, the name floating off of his tongue, carrying so much weight for one little word. It holds everything, from the first time he’d called Katsuki the nickname, to the first time he’d been so hurt by the boy that he didn’t use it. All the times he’d screamed that name in agony, all the times he’d thought he’d never see Katsuki again. Never get to call him Kacchan ever again.
It holds all of the good memories, too. When they were young and Izuku would shout the name as they were chasing each other around the playground, pretending to be so much bigger than they were, or when it came out in a breathy laugh after Katsuki had said something funny. All the soft moments, unspoken tension that had woven itself between them over the years. Tension tied so tight that it’d only just started to slowly unweave. That singular word, just two syllables, holds something so deep between them—if you were to jump into it, you may never reach the bottom.
Izuku staggers forward, similar to the first time Katsuki had apologized, and just like the first time, Katsuki is there to catch him. However, instead of falling limp in Katsuki’s arms, Izuku grabs the sides of Katsuki’s face and presses their lips together. Katsuki lets out a noise of surprise but doesn’t pull away.
It’s a desperate gesture, inexperienced and messy, but it’s so very them. Katsuki sighs into the kiss and places his hands on Izuku’s waist, shock subsiding as he melts into the slow push-and-pull. Izuku moves his hands to wrap his arms around Katsuki’s neck, small tears falling onto both of their cheeks and noses. Whose tears they are is hard to say.
The soft brush of lips and sweet sighs between them go on until they’re fighting back smiles. Pulling apart, Izuku rests his forehead against Katsuki’s, grinning the same goofy smile he’s had since his baby teeth came in.
“I… I wasn’t expecting that.” Izuku mumbles, gazing into Katsuki’s eyes with a look he could definitely get used to seeing.
“I wasn’t expecting to say it.” Katsuki admits. He hadn’t meant to ramble that much, but he’s glad he did.
Izuku giggles, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of Katsuki’s nose. Katsuki grins, eyes crinkling in a way he’s still getting used to. All of this is uncharted territory, but far be it from Katsuki to back away from something just because it isn’t familiar to him.
“Hey, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs, moving one hand to Katsuki’s cheek, where he brushes his thumb over Katsuki’s scar. “I love you, too. I have for a long time.”
The words make Katsuki feel giddy, almost. Starting at the tips of his ears, he blushes, feeling the warmth grow under his skin. However, that warmth quickly spreads throughout his body, leaving him feeling hot in a way he hasn’t felt since…
Once the warmth reaches his hands, his eyes shoot open, and he takes a quick step back, harshly ripping himself away from Izuku’s grasp.
Izuku stands there silently, looking both startled and hurt by Katsuki’s quick retreat. Katsuki shoots him a quick but very apologetic look before he turns to the side, raises his arms away from both of them, and watches as his hands involuntarily let off a few rather large explosions. The bright display shocks them both, Katsuki only having had a few seconds of warning before his quirk was set off like it had a mind of its own.
Just as quickly as they came, the explosions died out, leaving small puffs of smoke in their wake. Izuku immediately rushes forward, grabbing one of Katsuki’s forearms.
“Kacchan, wh—how? What?”
“I don’t know? It just—I couldn’t control it. It just came back. I felt it before it happened but I couldn’t stop myself from…” Katsuki responds, at a loss for words.
Right as Izuku is about to speak again, Katsuki’s phone begins ringing. He digs it out of his pocket and sees it’s the number the detective working on his case had given him, like the man had known this would happen.
Katsuki answers it and puts it on speaker, the detective’s booming voice immediately coming through loud enough that Katsuki has to turn his volume down a few notches.
“Bakugou, hello! Great news! We’ve found and arrested the villain who hit you with their quirk! We also now know how to reverse the effects; we’d like you to come down to the station to discuss!” He borderline shouts, voice so sweet it could give you cavities. Katsuki grimaces.
“Yeah, no. Just tell me what it was that reversed it; I already have my quirk back. I got it back just before you called.” Katsuki replies. He’s way too exhausted to go into the station, what with the argument, admittance of feelings, kissing Izuku, and then using his quirk for the first time in a week. Not to mention, he’s still recovering from the injuries that got him into this situation in the first place.
“Oh! You did? Hm… well then! The villain’s quirk is called Cupid’s Lock. It essentially traps your quirk within your body until your romantic feelings are reciprocated; you still have it, but it’s unusable. It seemingly locks your quirk indefinitely if you don’t have someone in mind romantically, or if the person you desire doesn’t reciprocate, which is probably why the villain targeted you specifically. You don’t present yourself in the media as someone… romantic. I’m glad that isn’t the case! If you have any follow-up questions, please come down to the station. I’ll be sure to let your teachers know about all of this. Goodnight!”
Then he hangs up. Just like that. Katsuki looks up from his phone to see Izuku slack-jawed and wide-eyed. He’s probably faring about the same.
“You mean to tell me… if you hadn’t just semi-accidentally admitted your feelings for me… you could have been quirkless for longer? You—Kacchan, it could have been years!” Izuku screeches, backing up and waving his arms around frantically.
“It wouldn’t have been that long—well, wait.” Katsuki says, stopping for a second. He was going to argue, but… Izuku has a point. He would have gone years without admitting his feelings.
A beat, and they both burst out laughing simultaneously. The situation itself is so insanely stupid, and they know it. At least they have each other, now. Maybe that villain wasn’t so bad after all, Katsuki should send a thank-you card.
After catching his breath, Izuku speaks, low and sincere. “Kacchan… you can be a hero again! I’m so happy for you.”
Katsuki looks him in the eye, the realization only just now washing over him. He hadn’t really thought about his quirk, too focused on the new development with Izuku.
“Hey… I’m going to find a way for you to be a hero with me. I promise.” He smiles, grabbing Izuku’s hand. Izuku squeezes his hand in return, a brilliant smile making its way onto his face, too.
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less.”
____
About an hour later, after they’d at long last returned from their run, Katsuki and Izuku settle into Katsuki’s bed, deciding to spend some time together before calling it a night.
Katsuki glances over at Izuku—who has already made himself comfortable, and is currently playing a game on his phone—with a fondness in his eyes he wouldn’t have thought he was capable of expressing. He feels content for what may be the first time ever, like he’s exactly where he wants to be.
One question still lingers in his mind, though, after everything that’s happened this last week. It’s nagging at the back of his mind, disrupting his peace.
Working up the nerve to approach the subject, to try and get some answers, Katsuki speaks into the otherwise quiet room. “You know, I don’t know how you did it.”
“Did what?” Izuku responds, immediately glancing up from his phone, dropping it and giving his full attention to the boy beside him.
“Cope. With losing your quirk, specifically. I was at least able to partially convince myself mine would come back while I was under the effects of that quirk, but you knew you’d lost yours for good. How did you lose the one thing tying you to your dream, the only thing you ever wanted, and barely bat an eye?”
Izuku giggles softly, shaking his head and looking down at his scar-covered hands. “It isn’t the only thing I ever wanted. It wasn’t the most important thing in my life,” he looks up, eyes sparkling in the low light coming from Katsuki’s singular warm-toned lamp. “so I didn’t lose the most important thing to me. Plus, I’ve learned that I can still achieve my dream without it. That’s why I’m okay.”
Katsuki shifts, sitting cross-legged and leaning forward into Izuku’s space just a bit. “If your quirk wasn’t the most important thing to you, what was?”
“You.”
Katsuki sits back again, a sharp inhale caught in his throat. He’s too stunned to say anything, so he does nothing but stare at Izuku as he processes the single word that was able to trip him up this badly.
“...Me?” He manages.
“Yes, Kacchan, you.” Izuku beams, moving to sit with his legs against his chest and his chin resting on his knees.
“Wh—explain. How… me? Really?” Katsuki mutters, still taken aback.
Izuku nods as best as he can without lifting his head. “Mhm. My quirk was never the most important thing, or the only thing I’ve ever wanted. You were—are—the most important, and I’ve always wanted you. I care about you so much more than I ever cared about a quirk, or heroism in general. I’d gladly give it all up if it meant keeping you in my life. That’s why I was okay with giving up One For All, why I ‘didn’t bat an eye’ once it was gone. I knew I’d helped people, stopped All For One, and you survived. Nothing else mattered; I didn’t care, because you were okay. You’re alive. I can handle losing my dream so long as I don’t lose you right along with it.”
Katsuki breathes shakily, tears forming in his eyes. He chuckles, brushing a stray piece of hair out of Izuku’s face so he can look into the boy’s eyes properly.
“That’s almost exactly what I was thinking all this time. ‘I don’t care about my career if I spend my life with Izuku,’ and ‘maybe if we’re both quirkless we can be together, just without the competition.’” Katsuki smirks, recalling his thoughts from the first morning after he’d lost his quirk.
“Kacchan, I’m gonna cry if you don’t shut up. You’re being sappy, I can’t take it!” Izuku wails. He’s already crying, the warning being a few seconds too late. Katsuki responds by laughing loudly and tousling Izuku’s hair, to which he receives an indignant squawk.
Seems like they were on the same page for a long time, they were both just too stubborn to admit it.
____
The next day, when Katsuki and Izuku walk into class together, Aizawa gives them an extremely tired glare, and moves to pull something up on his computer as they sit.
He’d set up a projector, using it to show something on the board at the front of the class. In bold letters, the words “Students shall not engage in any inappropriate conduct within the dorms” appear, no doubt because he had heard the news about how Katsuki had gotten his quirk back. They hadn’t even done anything R-rated, for fuck’s sake…
Hushed whispers break out, some letting out soft giggles, most staring at Mineta with smug looks. Izuku and Katsuki, on the other hand, both shrink into their seats, blushing furiously.
Thankfully, the class settles down pretty quickly, and the message is taken down once again. Aizawa knows no further scolding is necessary, content with the mortified looks on his problem children's faces.
As their teacher stands to begin attendance, Katsuki receives an email that he quickly checks, hiding his phone beneath his desk when he sees who it’s from.
“Hello, Katsuki! I’ve received your previous message, and I do believe that we’d be able to complete a hero suit with all of the details you’ve requested. Please visit our support lab as soon as you are able so we can hammer out the details.”
He smiles down at his phone, heart thudding in his chest. Glancing back at Izuku, who grins at him in return, he can finally see a future worth living on the horizon.
____