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It first started whenever Katsuki was stunned prone from a little girl’s quirk. He’d been shadowing with Edgeshot, and before he could even prop himself up on his elbows, he was hit with… something, something that made it hard to breathe. Another attack? There hadn’t been a villain on the scene anyway, so what the fuck was this tightness in his throat coming fr-?
“Dynamight!” Edgeshot’s hands were… trembling, his eyes wide as they scanned his face, his body, checking for any sign of injury—unprofessional on all counts, according to their training. Heroes weren’t allowed to show fear, not around the civvies they were sworn to protect, to save.
“Can you move? Can you hear me? Are you hurt?”
When Katsuki forced out a breath through the new heaviness in his chest, only then did that heaviness… lighten, just as Edgeshot let out a shaky breath, before his features neutralized again. And then Katsuki didn’t feel any differently than he usually did as he was offered a hand to stand and relieved from the remainder of his patrol with orders to see Recovery Girl.
Katsuki didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter.
He opened the door to her clinic with his non-dominant hand, considering the one that was ravaged in the war was tingling and throbbing in pain again. Almost like the pain of a limb falling asleep, only it didn’t matter how much he shook or pinched at the skin, the sensation wouldn’t go away. An annoying pain, but one he was getting more and more used to every day. Not nearly as intense as the pain he felt with each breath he took, even after all of his surgeries and exercising and strength training–a dull ache of the pain he’d experienced since he came back during the war always lingered. The pain Edgeshot had warned him about.
Katsuki didn’t really know who he was without his pain, at this point.
Her smile was as normal as it always was. “How can I help you today, Young Bakugou?”
He huffed out a breath. “Quirk accident. Only happened because my arm went numb again—I thought that was supposed to get better by now?”
It had been fourteen months since the war, but he still didn’t feel like he was getting better. No matter how long he kept at it with his physical therapies, no matter the modifications to his hero suit, his arm became more susceptible to painful backlash at the expense of using his quirk.
When she hummed at that, he felt that pain again, a twinge of something heavy that made his breath catch in his throat, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
After she evaluated him, she told him that there didn’t appear to be anything life-threatening, but that he should be careful and wait 24 hours to see if the residual effects wear off. That was another change after the war: since everyone in the class had so much to catch up on, it was now up to the students’ discretion if they felt well enough to go to classes after an incident occurred (barring surgeries and hospital stays, that is). Knowing Katsuki, she cleared him to return to class. As he gripped the strap of his backpack while walking down UA’s reconstructed, unfamiliar walls, he had convinced himself that it had all just been in his head, those… weighted and tightened pains he had been having.
As he situated himself in his seat, he tried to focus on his breathing before he overheard their class rep, Iida, as he said, “Oh! Thank you for asking, Tensei is doing well!”
Katsuki’s throat closed up at that, a roaring filling his ears.
It made him knock his notebook onto the ground, and before he could reach for it-
“Here, I‘ve got it, man!” Eijirou’s hand appeared, holding the notebook out for Katsuki to take.
“Coulda gotten it myself, but… thanks,” he grumbled.
Eijirou smiled. “No problem, man!” And when he lowered his voice, to a quieter conversational level, Katsuki could only blink as he realized he couldn’t hear him.
“Shit, one second,” he interrupted, raising a hand to quickly adjust the volume and noise intake on his hearing aids. Something that was less new now, a daily occurrence since his discharge.
He didn’t notice as his friend’s smile softened, but he felt… like steel balls were nestling inside of his chest, accumulating one by one. He had to swallow dryly to try and ease the feeling away, resisting the urge to rub at his chest, at the source of the hurt that both was and wasn’t there.
But his brows had furrowed, which made Eijirou’s smile fall altogether. “Hey, you alright, Bakubro?”
The worry in his friend’s voice, on his features, made Katsuki huff out a shaky breath, doing anything to try and relieve the tension that just kept building.
“‘M fine,” was all he could manage to get out.
As much as he wanted to pay attention to what Eijirou was saying, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing. Why wasn’t his heart monitor going off? Was something wrong with his heart? Or the monitor itself? Because this pain… he’d never felt anything like it before. A momentary, fleeting pain that felt dull for a breath before coursing throughout his entire body.
“… reminded me of Ms. Midnight, ya know?” Mina’s voice registered, but only before he finally had to clutch at his chest, his head bowed, brows pinching and face contorting into a mask of pain.
“Whoa! Are you alright, Kats?” Kyoka’s voice was getting closer. “Is- is it your heart, are you-?”
A soft whimper escaped from his throat, the hand clutching his shirt trembling and the pain only easing when he felt… a hand on his shoulder. And when he looked up, he saw Denki’s easy smile, and he hoped that maybe, the pain would stay away.
He was wrong.
“I… was shadowing too this morning. Saw the way you… went down. Quirk accident or something? Man, you need to be in a bubble or something!”
Despite Denki’s casual and annoying (re: playful) demeanor, Katsuki had to clench his jaw and squeeze his eyes shut to stop the tears that threatened to burn in his eyes and show, as Denki said, the way you… went down.
Aizawa-sensei strolled in, setting his bag down behind his desk as normal and speaking before looking out across the room.
“Everyone, in your se- Bakugou? What’s going on? Are you hurt?”
The panic and concern in Aizawa-sensei’s voice might as well have been his own panic, only… worse, somehow? With how much harder it was to breathe, to think, there was too much of… something he didn’t know, couldn’t identify. He was drowning, or being suffocated, or… both?
“Don’t… know,” he forced out, still keeping his eyes shut and letting his forehead rest against the cool surface of his desk. “It’s like every time someone talks to me or looks at me, it… hurts. It doesn’t last for long, but it-”
“Did Recovery Girl clear you?” He didn’t wait for a response, “Bakugou, how many times do I have to tell you that I can and will call your cardiologist and Best Jeanist if you show me you can’t even take care of yourself?”
Despite the frustration in Aizawa-sensei’s voice, all Katsuki felt was more tightness, like Sero’s tape was wrapped around him and squeezing and squeezing and-
The classroom fell silent. Aizawa sighed, and Katsuki could practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose. “My problem child–Jirou, take him to his dorm. You’re both excused for the rest of the day. I’ll see you tomorrow, and you and I will have yet another discussion about the importance of self-preservation in the line of hero work.”
Fucking finally; as annoying as it was to be forced to miss class, to have even more work to catch up on, he would feel better with Kyo, who was his best friend for all intents and purposes (because what he felt for Izuku was not what he felt for Kyo, that much he knew).
Wait…
He turned around in his seat, only to find Izuku’s empty.
Now the tightness in his chest belonged to him and him alone. Panic. Anxiety. Fear. His eyes widened as he turned back to their teacher. But before he could even open his mouth, Aizawa was already answering his unspoken question.
“Midoriya’s taking the day off as well. No, I don’t know why, so don’t ask. Just go find him yourself after 24 hours have passed, got it?”
Katsuki didn’t respond because he didn’t want to lie to his teacher.
With a huff, he grabbed his things and left without another word, making a point to keep his eyes trained straight ahead because he knew Kyoka would follow.
She only spoke once they were in the empty hallway, bumping her shoulder against his. “So, what’s up, Blasty?” There was a twinge of that unfamiliar discomfort at her words, and he groaned from the feeling. He was already used to so many types of pain, so why did he have to get used to this too?
He merely shook his head. “You heard the idiots better than me. Some stupid quirk thing. Maybe it just causes pain during conversation?”
“Seems like that’d be a pretty stupid quirk,” she quipped.
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Stupider than a quirk that zaps you braindead like your boyfriend?” A gentle tease. He heard some form of a retort, “Oh, like a quirk that breaks all of your bones is any better?”
He felt an earphone poke him hard in the side, but that wasn’t what caused him to stop in his tracks, holding onto her arm for support. It was the sharp, splintering pain radiating from his chest, like he took another damn skewer. The kind of pain he usually felt when he… thought about his true feelings for the damned nerd. But why was he feeling that now?
“Kats? Shit, c’mon, it isn’t that much farther to your dorm, okay? No more talking until then.” There was a strain in her voice that made the maniac from the Sports Festival whimper in pain. All he could do was nod, take some steadying breaths, and follow her lead, never letting go as they trailed through the halls and into the newly constructed dorms. His and Izuku’s were the first two, and a new horrible pang sliced throughout his entire body from just passing by the nerd’s closed door. Sharp and visceral enough to nearly bring the blonde to his knees.
That couldn’t possibly be a good sign.
Kyoka guided him to his bed, already getting to work to find some of his sweats. “I figure maybe if you feel constricted, this might feel better, since it seems to be your chest that’s hurting most, right?” His baggy skull T-shirt and a pair of white sweatpants were tossed his way.
“Chest and throat,” he corrected. “Starts at one of those points, then just… spreads through my whole fucking body.”
Kyoka hummed at that, turning away and sitting at his desk to give him privacy to change while she opened up her own laptop. He would never be able to tell her how much he appreciated these tender moments, the love she poured into every interaction they had.
“Okay, so first things first, we have to reach out to Dr. Kano, because she needs to know anything and everything potentially heart-related-” A pang as he slipped into the pants first. “Then we need to tell your Mom and Dad that you had an incident because we both know how your mother can get whenever she hears about something secondhand.” A grunt from the stinging now pulsing throughout his bad arm as he stretched it over his head to pull the shirt on. “And you need food, water, and electrolytes. And we can watch some cheesy All Might rerun if it’ll make you feel better. Sound like a plan?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Sounds fucking awesome. Think we can figure out what the hell kind of quirk this is? To help me avoid the… triggers or whatever?”
Kyoka sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Blasty, you know research isn’t my strong suit.”
He threw his school shirt at her, which made her let out a soft laugh. This was the most normal he’d felt in hours. Positive emotions didn’t seem to faze him, so he took a mental note of that.
“But,” she offered after helping to draft a quick message to his cardiologist, “we could go to the research expert next door?” She gave him a knowing look that made his cheeks warm.
Katsuki wanted to scoff, but truthfully, he felt far more concerned for Izuku than he did for himself. Izuku had made it a point, just like him, to never miss a day of classes if he could help it. The two had a damn shared calendar of all of their health shit, appointments and physical therapy and patrols and class schedules, so it felt odd that he had skipped a day that was completely clear.
Before he could answer, his phone buzzed. Best Jeanist. Katsuki licked his suddenly dry lips as he answered the call.
“...Sir?”
“Dynamight,” his mentor sounded distraught, disappointed, and something else, something Katsuki had never really picked up on before. A fragility that only a sidekick could catch onto. A fragility that made him clench his hands into fists on his lap. “The crime analysis came back from your patrol this morning, a patrol I did not authorize, might I add.” He heard Jeanist sigh, and Katsuki furrowed his brow, registering a small heartbeat of pain just at his tone. “You were hit by a bystander’s quirk, something that imitates the emotional pain of those around you and transfuses it into you. The closer you are to someone, the more intense the feeling. It’s advised to stay to yourself for the rest of the day, although I am aware that Earphone Jack is with you. I strongly advise you keep her as your only point of contact. I’ve already informed your parents, so all you need to do now is rest. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to reach out to me. I’ll be checking in later this evening.” A pause, which made Katsuki’s brows furrow, honing in on the hesitation. “And Dynamight… stick with Earphone Jack, okay? You can see anyone else later. I trust her the most to help you get through this.” There was something his mentor wasn’t telling him, but he didn’t have the energy to pry.
“...Guess we don’t have to go visit Izuku today,” he mumbled to Kyoka, who had her whole attention focused on him. “Some emotional pain quirk… I feel what others are feeling...”
He let that sink in as he slowly processed it, face pinched in concentration as he replayed the events of the morning. The unspoken pain all of them now dealt with, the invisible scars they didn’t let anyone see. And now here Katsuki was, ripping away the masks and inspecting the ruins with a microscope. It made him feel uneasy, sick to his stomach as those moments started adding up: Edgeshot’s worry, Iida’s hidden heartbreak talking about his brother, Eijirou’s sadness at his hearing aids, Kyoka’s momentary lapse when Katsuki brought up Denki like a fucking asshole, and Izuku…
Red eyes widened as he remembered how he felt on the way to his dorm, as Shigaraki’s words bounced around in his head:
“You will be useful to me, only because you are the one closest to Izuku Midoriya.”
His blood ran cold, just like it had when that bastard taunted him before torturing and… and killing him.
Without a word, he was up, his body moving on its own as he damn near sprinted out past a very startled and concerned Kyoka and headed straight to Izuku’s dorm, not even bothering to knock before he just barged in, and oh-
Oh.
Izuku had merely turned from his desk and pulled off his headphones, having clearly been studying, but now his eyes were wide, scanning their surroundings for signs of a threat before landing on Katsuki who had fallen to his knees. He was clutching his shirt tightly, gasping for air as a darkness he’d never experienced, not even in fucking death, took hold of him. A sludge, a tar that coated his soul, the inside of his throat. Everywhere and all consuming. A darkness that would even make Tokoyami falter.
A darkness with no hope.
“Kacchan!” And there Izuku was—his Hero Deku—scrambling and falling to his knees in front of the other, his own hands shaking, “W-what’s wrong? What can I- how can I-?”
One of those shaking hands reached towards Katsuki, and that’s when the sobs began. Rough, body-shaking sobs that had no end, as if they could go on and on until the sun burned out. Sobs that made his body ache, that made his heart work far too hard.
Behind him, in Izuku’s doorway, was Kyoka, both hands covering her mouth, tears threatening to pool down her cheeks at the sight of her best friend like this. Izuku opened his mouth when Katsuki forced his words out.
“Y-you fucking bastard! This wh-whole time, with your fake f-fucking smile and can-do attitude… you’ve been h-hiding this… this pain and grief and g-guilt…” Katsuki’s voice was so much smaller than he intended for it to be, breaking on each stumbled word.
His head snapped up, and seeing the look of concern and agony in Izuku’s eyes made him bury his face in his hands. “D-Damn it! Damn you! How m-many times do I need to tell you to s-stop trying to win this by yourself, huh?!” His voice had risen to a shout; a desperate, pathetic sound, so different from the last time he’d uttered those words. But the pain… fuck, he would give anything to feel the pain of those skewers in his gut again opposed to this.
Katsuki didn’t care that he probably wasn’t making any sense, not as undulating waves of hurt crested and crashed over him, washing through any and all logical thought. Izuku was carrying so much pain… it felt worse than dying, because at least when he’d died, he felt peace.
No, the closest Katsuki had ever felt to this was either during Izuku’s stupid stinky fucking vigilante era, or while he was being tormented by Shigaraki. It wasn’t the pain or even shame or humiliation, but the knowing. The knowing that he’d… let Izuku down. That he’d let the world down. But even that didn’t feel even a fraction as intense as this.
He forced his head up, forced his eyes to focus on Izuku’s face, which had crumpled. And only now could Katsuki see his exhaustion, the deep, dark circles under his eyes. The pallor of his face.
But what struck him most was the… lifelessness in his eyes. Once so full of adoration and joy and hope, now dimmed to a nothingness that threatened to consume Katsuki. The shining star Hero Deku once was now felt little more than a dying star, so dangerously close to being swallowed up by a black hole lurking beneath.
Without thinking, one of Katsuki’s hands reached up to tangle gently into the curls on half of the nerd’s head, pulling him forward, just to rest their foreheads together, needing to feel him, to feel something to fight off the ever-growing darkness. The closeness… seemed to ease a fraction of the pain ripping through him. It reminded him of the moments between his Full Body Explosions, the nanosecond of relief he felt before his body was burning in agony. An endless, now familiar cycle. Almost comforting, as though his body was made to be torn apart and stitched back together.
Back then, with nothing but adrenaline coursing through his veins, he’d been able to laugh like a deranged lunatic at the agony. But now?
Fourteen months worth of emotions crashed over him, the waves pulling him under. Barely able to gasp for breath as an ocean swallowed him whole, threatening to extinguish his flames.
But… the softness of Izuku’s hair grounded him, helped him to blink the tears from his eyes.
“I… I’m so sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered with a broken voice, his hands finding their home on Katsuki—one cupping his scarred cheek, and the other resting on his damaged hand. They both leaned into the other’s touch, seeking each other’s warmth, as if this was their most natural state. As if nothing else in the world made sense unless they were together.
Katsuki opened his mouth to fight the apology, wanting to scream that Izuku had nothing to apologize for, when Izuku beat him to it.
“I can’t… I can’t protect you, o-or anyone now. I can’t keep the p-people closest to me safe. I’m, I’m not a hero anymore, and I don’t deserve-”
Katsuki let out a shaky breath, suddenly terrified that Izuku’s next words would likely make his heart act up. He lightly tugged on Izuku’s hair. “First off, who the fuck said I can’t take care of myself, hah?” That earned him a ghost of a smile through the sheen of tears in those emerald eyes, the ones Katsuki had memorized and adored so deeply. Tears that Katsuki hadn’t seen since before the war.
Any and all playfulness vanished from Katsuki’s features as that realization sunk in fully. That Izuku had been feeling this, a pain so intense it brought the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight to his knees, all alone, for months.
“And second?” His voice softened, crimson eyes searched emerald, needing him to really hear him this time. “You are a hero. The greatest hero I know.” A pause, a flush rising on his cheeks, “A-after all this time, how can you not see that you’re my hero, Izuku?”
For a moment, Izuku just stared at him, his eyes wide and full of wonder. The same look that used to chase him around in their childhood. The same look he hadn’t even known he’d been missing all this time.
And once that moment passed, just like that, the floodgates opened, and Izuku was crying. The war was over and Izuku was crying. But the weird thing was that with each heart wrenching sob, with every squeeze to his hand, Katsuki’s own sense of pain lightened.
They held each other as the ocean of hurt slowly turned into dewdrops. Staying close. Together. And in that time, the seeds of an idea began to take root from one simple dream: Make Izuku feel like the hero he is. No matter how long it took, Katsuki would make sure he helped to bring the light back into the nerd’s eyes. Because if anyone deserved to be a hero, it was the kid who saved the fucking world.
“I’m here,” Katsuki whispered as Izuku’s sobs quieted to hiccups, “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”
And they spent the rest of the day together in Izuku’s dorm, orbiting around each other, pulling each other in, keeping each other close, neither of them acknowledging what this was or what this meant. For now, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if lips pressed to temples or hands snuck beneath shirts for some skin to skin contact. All that mattered was that they were together.
Because together? They were the unbreakable, unstoppable Wonder Duo. Quirk or no quirk. Scars and stitches and all. Together, they had one last fight to win:
To save each other.
That day, he let Izuku take care of him. That day, he put down his own shield of Dynamight armor and just… became Izuku’s Kacchan. And as the day faded to night, the pain eased as their bodies curled protectively around each other in Izuku’s bed. And as the rain pitter-pattered outside, Katsuki didn’t feel afraid. No, in Izuku’s arms, he felt strong. Like he could really do the impossible, of making Izuku a hero again.
And he would do the impossible. He would do anything for Izuku. But… he could sort through those logistics tomorrow, when the exhaustion of the day wasn’t weighing his body down. When Izuku’s warmth wasn’t lulling him to sleep, just like it did in their youth, during unbearably cold winter nights.
And for the first time since the war, neither of them woke up screaming or gasping for air. Instead, they woke up gently to the sound of Izuku’s annoying All Might alarm clock, safe in each other’s arms, ready to face the day ahead together.