Chapter Text
On the television, Breaking News slides over the bottom of the screen, big and bold over a red backdrop that Katsuki has become very accustomed to.
The news anchor continues her speech, eyes darting over the screen as she reads, "—It looks like there's been another robbing down on Solemei Avenue. The National Bank of Tokyo had its security system shut down around 4:00pm, and soon enough, the robbers—" TV static fills the void between her words, although she doesn't pause very often.
Katsuki's ramen tastes the same as it always does at the end of the school day. There's a fly buzzing around him, his window open for fresh air. He would go get the swatter if his eyes weren't glued to the television, waiting. Always waiting.
"—Looks like they have six hostages, a child and five men, trapped inside as there's a shoot out in the parking lot—"
Katsuki cringes when the camera transitions to a birds-eye view of the parking, flooded with police vehicles. The screen depicts an occasional faraway flash as guns are shot and cars are damaged, metal pieces glowing bright orange. This one's going to last a while, Katsuki thinks. Unless—
"Oh," the news anchor touches her earpiece, frowning. She smooths out her expression as quickly as it changed, if not looking a little more delighted. Excited. "We're getting notice that someone has come to help in the area."
Katsuki perks up, quickly settling his bowl down on the table. This is his favorite part, every time. He already knows who came to help. It's always the same person. This is what he's always waiting for.
A flash of green passes through the screen, the camera swerving in an attempt to follow the person flying over the parking. Katsuki's restless where he sits, waiting for confirmation before he gets to work. He could mouth the words that come next with how many times he's heard them.
"Spider-Man has shown up at the scene."
Katsuki's out the door before the sentence is finished, camera heavy around his neck.
As he walks past the other student dorms, he notices Izuku's room's left ajar. He scoffs as he walks up to close it, not for the first time. Katsuki doesn't bother questioning why Izuku always ends up leaving his room in such a hurry, coming back late or not coming back at all, stumbling through the halls. They're not close enough for him to ask about it. He wouldn't know how to formulate the question.
Walking off to the bus stop, Katsuki pulls out his phone to find one that can bring him to Solemei Avenue the fastest.
"Come on, guys," Izuku pants, muscles sore with all the bullets he's skimmed. "Let's pack this up, alright?" Another one fizzles near his left shoulder. His wrist shoots out in that direction as he jumps toward the ceiling.
Landing in his crouched position, Izuku kicks at the man's legs, wrapping him in webs as his body collides with the granite floor. Spider-Man wipes at his chest, removing the thick cloud of dust having rested on his suit. Coughing slightly, he looks around.
"Anyone else?"
"There are no detected perpetrators nearby, Izuku," his suit provides helpfully.
"Thank you, Mido," Izuku says.
There's some protesting from the mumbles around him, others failing to speak through his webbing. He can already hear the police rushing in without the sound of gunshots clouding his senses. Straining, he listens for the hostages rustling in a room some meters down.
As he steps, there's the sound of a click that has him flinching. A flash lights Izuku up, projecting his shadow over the body he's just brought to the ground.
He sighs, turns on the voice modification of his suit with a tap of his index against his thigh.
"Really?" A distorted version of his voice sounds out, deep and grainy.
Spinning on his heel and looking up, Izuku sees him carrying his camera atop the railing of the second floor. He already knows who it is, because there's only one person who'd be dumb enough to come into a live shooting for some photographs.
"Sorry, Spider-Man," Katsuki says, not sounding sorry at all. He has the nerve to look sheepish. "I know what you're about to say, so save it."
"I—" It's been too many times, Izuku has lost hope that his complaints would change Katsuki's ambition. "I don't even know how you got in here," he settles for, frowning under his spandex becoming uncomfortably tight around his throat. The clock always starts when Katsuki's around. Ticking off the seconds until his act gets discovered. His body misunderstands his nervousness and has him blush instead. "Do you know how dangerous—"
"I do," Katsuki retorts, looking through the viewfinder of his camera. "Now smile for me, would you?" Another invasive flash goes off in Spider-Man's face, half blocked by the arm Izuku brought up in time. "You know how good these pictures pay?"
"Your heart rate has increased dramatically. I would sugges —"
Embarrassment chokes Izuku from the inside out. Ducking down to whisper out harshly, "Mido, please shut down. I'll turn you back on when I need you."
There's a few seconds of pause, his artificial intelligence debating the request. "Okay," she says, finally.
He turns back around, facing an amused Katsuki. Katsuki snorts.
"You're not even allowed to be in here," Izuku deadpans, ignoring the reaction, "You'll be arrested if those pics get out."
"Anonymous submissions get nothing but money," he replies, sounding pleased.
Despite Katsuki's confidence, Izuku can hear the steps of the officers get closer and he's sure that Katsuki will be charged if he's caught in this mess. Izuku groans quietly, flicking his wrist to the railing and pulling himself up. He ignores Katsuki's wondrous gaze for fear of blushing even more.
"You need to get out of here." He can already see the flashlights of their guns lighting up the hallway as he glances back. "Like, right now. Please."
Katsuki looks at him a moment longer. A moment too long. "Alright," he says, but quickly reaches for his camera, bringing it up. Izuku jumps to the ceiling, landing behind Katsuki and grabbing at his waist, walking away quickly as hands grip his forearms.
"No need to hassle me," Katsuki mutters from where he's laid on Spider-Man's arm, hanging by his hips. "I would have listened."
Izuku knows better, but he can't say that. Tick tock. "Too slow," he mutters, instead.
Katsuki lets out a huff, opting to look through the pictures he's taken as Izuku walks them through the deserted bank. Taking a left towards a hallway on the outer side of the building, he hopes to find a window leading to another roof. Breaking through—
("Watch it," Katsuki mumbles from below, shielding his face from the glass. As if Izuku would let any get that far.
"Sorry," he replies, mostly out of habit. Katsuki doesn't know that, and it makes Izuku feel oddly hollow in his chest.)
—and setting Katsuki down.
As Katsuki wipes himself off, face looking pinched, Izuku looks out to the parking lot, glad to see the hostages being tended to. He sits against the tiles, and lays down. Letting out a quiet sigh, he closes his eyes and listens for the telltale click of a camera shutter.
After a couple moments of its absence, Izuku opens his eyes, only to find Katsuki staring at him, camera hanging limp around his neck. An odd look clouds over his face— embarrassed. Maybe Izuku would've noticed if he wasn't more concerned with the way his own cheeks burned, reddening under the attention. He finds himself thankful that his mask covers it all.
"What?" Izuku says, just to be rid of the quiet.
Katsuki scoffs, a trick of the light painting the apples of his cheeks in red. "You're bleeding."
Now that Izuku thinks about it, adrenaline draining from his body as the seconds go by, he realizes there's an ache in his leg. It's something he doesn't want to think about.
"Thanks for telling me." He closes his eyes again, tired in the evening, wanting to be alone to deal with the aftermaths of only being human despite the bite in his neck.
"What?" Katsuki asks, and then repeats, "You're bleeding."
Izuku can't help but let out a laugh. The worry in Katsuki's tone is ridiculous, misplaced, undeserved. Izuku almost feels guilty over it. "Yeah, I got it the first time. Don't worry about it."
"What the fuck? Go get it fixed." Katsuki crouches down, and Izuku hears him shuffle next to his leg. There's warmth atop the wound. He thinks Katsuki might have extended his hand across it, like he isn't sure what to do. Izuku doesn't want to open his eyes for fear of spooking Katsuki away. "Bug boy, I'm serious. Why are you just sleeping?"
"'m tired, you know," Izuku says, waving his hand to gesture above him. "I just saved people."
A scoff, but it's lined with a laugh. "I'm aware. Now, can you go fix yourself?"
It's probably the blood loss that's made him lose a bit of his mind. "What's the magic word?"
The warmth leaves, and Izuku misses it instantly. "Don't fucking piss me off."
A full-body laugh wracks Izuku's body this time. "You really know how to respect author—"
"Authority?" Katsuki says, sounding doubtful. "You're like, my age."
Alarm bells ring in Izuku's head. Thinner breaths. A painful clench to his muscles. "What? No?" he feigns indifference as if Katsuki wouldn't be able to notice the tremble of his fists. "Pff, who said that?"
"No one, but it's obvious," Katsuki eyes him suspiciously. Izuku wonders what would happen if Katsuki actually knew. If wonder would still fill Katsuki's eyes behind the viewfinder. His train of thought gets cut as Katsuki continues. "Just me calling you Spider-Man is respectful enough. I could always switch to Spider-Boy. You'd prefer that?"
"No!" Izuku exclaims, sitting up suddenly as mortification raps at his insides. Katsuki looks so good in the sun, smiling and teasing, that Izuku regrets not having looked sooner."No. Spider-Man is good."
"That's what I thought," he nods to himself, respect lost to him at all times. "Let's go get that cleaned up," gesturing towards the dark red tainting the bottom of Izuku's leg.
His hands extended some distance from Izuku's face, wanting to help him up. It reminds him so much of—
"Are you all right? Can you stand?" The water made walking uncomfortable, but he found himself uncaring as Katsuki rubbed his head.
—and he scoffs, suddenly bitter.
"Please go home," Izuku mumbles. He suddenly doesn't want this help. "I'll take care of it," Izuku adds, looking back at the skyline.
Katsuki steps back, his hand going limp. A few seconds of tense silence pass, only heightened by the aggressive feel of Katsuki's gaze on Izuku's leg. After some time, he turns away. He doesn't say anything as he hops onto the next building, opening the door to the complex's stairs.
Izuku sits there for a little longer, a while longer, sometime after all the police cars have left and the bank is left vacant. He doesn't enjoy this part, tired and hungry. The fall, after the saving.
"Mido," Izuku mumbles, "You can come back now."
"You are aware you are hurt," Mido confirms. Izuku doesn't reply, because there's no point to it. "Would you like me to message Ochako Uraraka for her services?"
"I'll take care of it," he says, after a couple of seconds. "Thank you."
"It is my duty, Izuku."
He smiles a small thing, wondering why Hatsume programmed such a nice suit. Pulling out his phone, he types.
izuku
hi uraraka-san
do u have time for me?
uraraka
deku-kun:(
again?
come by my dorm whenever
izuku
im sorry
ill be there in an hour if thats okay
uraraka
dont be
see you
izuku
yeah
see u
im sorry
"Don't be sad," Mido comments after he pockets his phone. "She's your friend."
"I don't think I'm a good friend to her," Izuku answers, looking at his hands for the sake of having something to do. Mido doesn't reply. She's not programmed to lie.
Pushing himself up, he ignores the system alert of his suit, announcing his worrying decrease in heart rate and increase in dizziness. He slips into a deserted alleyway nearby, grabbing at his bag behind the dumpster. Wincing as he removes his suit, he avoids looking at the gash across his leg.
Limp by limp, Izuku makes it back to his dorm. He drops his bag by his room, not noticing how his door was closed despite him leaving it open, and drops by the girl's floor of the building.
When he knocks against Uraraka's door, he's greeted with so much pity it could choke him.
"Oh," she says, looking so sad. He must be more beat-up than he thought he was. He avoids looking at mirrors, these days. There haven't been many times that he's enjoyed the sight that greets him. "Oh, Deku-kun, please come in."
Izuku waits for Urakaka to gesture towards her bed, settling himself quietly. Gently lifting the hem of his pants from the right leg, Izuku tries not to read too much into Uraraka's wince. "I don't think it needs stitches," she says, "but I'm not a—"
"Professional," Izuku finishes. She doesn't have to be. "I know. But you're the best."
She smiles, but it looks a bit sad. "I'm really not, Deku-kun. But I'll try my best." She steps away to reach under her desk, into the first aid kit she's essentially only used on Izuku. "I'll wrap it after disinfection, but please let it heal. If your healing is still accelerated, I think it'll be gone by tomorrow evening."
"Alright, thank you," he replies, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall. "I'll just—"
"Rest," Uraraka says, lifting the hem again and pressing a wet cloth around the bullet skim on Izuku's leg. "Please rest."
"Okay," Izuku mumbles, like a liar. "Thank you."
After thirty minutes, he gets startled awake by Uraraka gently packing her things away. "You should be okay, now." Izuku doesn't want to correct her. He's so tired.
"Yeah," he mumbles, rubbing at his face. There's a heavy feeling in his chest. "Thank—"
"Stop feeling guilty, Deku-kun," she cuts him off. Pausing her movements, her heartbeat's gone erratic. Izuku feels unwell that he's able to steal information like that off people, as though invading privacy embedded in his existence. "It's not your fault. I don't know if you think I think that, but I don't."
She continues packing her things, setting the tools back in their plastic holding. "I'm just scared that you'll come to me one day, thinking a premed student would be able to help you with something out of my knowledge. I'm scared I won't know what to do, and you'll be stuck," she pauses, as if seeing into a future that happens. "So please don't feel guilty. Just don't die, okay, Deku-kun? Don't come back with something I wouldn't know how to fix."
He nods, but it's to himself. "I understand."
When she turns around, she's smiling. "I believe that. Take care of yourself."
The words make him think of Katsuki, from a couple hours before. How Katsuki's hand reached out, fingers gentle and open. How he imagines it being a fist if he knew who was really behind the mask. Pushing himself up when the thought gets too hurtful, he bids Uraraka goodbye. "Let me know if you ever need anything, Uraraka-san, please."
A different smile graces her face, and it's a sad one. "Got it, Spider-Man."
Izuku goes back to his room, and falls asleep as soon as he hits the surface of his bed.
In the homeroom of their morning class, Izuku catches glimpses of conversation as he lays his head on his crossed arms.
"Bakugou, you saw those pictures, right?" Eijirou says, sounding excited beside him. "With Spider-Man?"
Katsuki's grunt is interpreted as an affirmation, and soon Denki is joining in the conversation.
"That's amazing!" he exclaims, "Have any idea who it'd be?"
All of Izuku's muscles clench in anticipation, despite having heard conversations like this all too often. He knows he hasn't been discovered because—
A hand outstretched to him. Forgiving, harmless. Katsuki's face without its usual scowl, edges smoothed to the beginnings of softness.
—their interactions would be very different if Katsuki knew.
"No," Katsuki mumbles, and it's only when green meets red does Izuku realizes he's lifted his head to stare. His face hardens as they hold eye contact, "I don't know who it is."
Izuku hopes he's hallucinating when he sees Katsuki's eyes glance towards his right leg, bandaged but hidden. He feels oddly exposed, and his legs move further beneath the desk.
"But you get sooo close to him," Eijirou whines, "Why not just ask?"
Katsuki scoffs, finally looking away. Izuku notices his own shortness of breath, and puts his head back in his arms. "Why would I do that? I just want the pictures."
Denki and Eijirou whine some more, but Izuku's past paying attention. He's heard enough.
Aizawa walks in, and the class settles down for the lesson to start.
"Come on, nerd," Katsuki says, grabbing Izuku's books and pencil bag from his desk. He startles, having dozed off.
Izuku glances around, eyes widening. They're the only ones left in the room. "But—"
"You think I haven't noticed the way you were limping around the entire morning?" Katsuki accuses. "Fucking annoying. Now, let's go." He sounds impatient, but his stance hasn't changed. Waiting.
There's a stupid flush choking Izuku from his neck upwards. He shakes his head in hopes to cover his face, but there's no mask to save him this time. "Uhm— okay," he says as he rises.
"Where the fuck are Round Face and Four Eyes?" Katsuki says, walking in front of Izuku.
Ochako knows better than to bring attention to Izuku's injuries in front of the class. Tenya just happens to be painfully unobservant. Izuku doesn't blame them for leaving him to care for himself in the daytime. "Don't know," he settles on. And in an afterthought, "Thank you for the help."
Katsuki doesn't blush, so the red on his ears must be from the lighting. A sunburn, maybe. "Idiots," he says, speeding up his steps in front of Izuku.
There's still that hollow feeling in Izuku's chest. He doesn't understand. Talking with Katsuki has always felt like prodding at an old open wound: never letting it heal, but always being surprised at the way it bleeds.
Izuku's bled too often, this past year.
There's a story in here somewhere. There's a bite and a boy and a decision. There's a building to climb, but it happens to be the first one of many. There's a scratch against his arm, a blackness around his eye, a limp to his step. Hope in his veins. An observer that leaves Izuku stumbling, shaking.
There's a boy: Midoriya Izuku.
There's a bite: it gives him too much power.
There's a decision: what does one do with power?
Izuku's bled too often, with this power.
A month after his first save, the articles started up. And soon after, Katsuki's blond hair was found within the crowd of the mall, a camera lifted to his eyes as Izuku hung the mercenary from the second floor. In the split second that Izuku's eyes met Katsuki's through the white of his mask, he lost his footing on the pole, falling.
It was his first time getting shot, that day. He's gotten better at staying calm, since then. At not being weak. At looking at Katsuki through the crowd and seeing just that: a member of the crowd. But, therein lies the issue, he guesses. If he's able to spot him from crowds of dozens, if Izuku's able to tell he's near from the sound of his feet across the floor, has he gotten better? Is he not weak?
His leg aches dully, walking slow behind Katsuki.
An open wound, bleeding. He's being weak, right now, he supposes. Dismissing Katsuki's help as Spider-Man, but feeling nauseous at the idea of pushing Katsuki away without his mask. He wonders what kind of message that sends.
(A thought, unwanted and weak, springs to mind. He wants help when it's really for him. Not Spider-Man.)
But his heart wouldn't be indulged in such a way if Katsuki would ignore him like he used to. Before his apology in the first year of their high school, before his—
I'm sorry for everything I've done up to now.
—when Izuku had felt his knees buckle in the courtyard of their building.
Why does Katsuki watch him when he's not Spider-Man?
Izuku laughs quietly, but it's mostly to himself, bitter. It's maddening.
"What?" Katsuki says, turning around abruptly.
Not bothering to look up, Izuku can see his fists clench around his school things. "Sorry," he says, out of habit again. He doesn't know what else to say. Katsuki huffs, but turns back around.
They arrive to their next class a bit after everyone else, and Katsuki drops Izuku's things on his desk without saying anything else. Izuku isn't sure if he's heard his thanks.
Picking at his nails, he wonders.
He wishes he understood if Spider-Man was a different person than Izuku. He wonders if he'd be the object of so much admiration if they knew.
Most of all, Izuku wonders if Katsuki would still watch him if he knew who was under the mask.