Archive of Our Own ^beta

The IV attached to Katsuki’s arm was cold. The drugs it was pumping into his bloodstream were cold. His right arm was numb, wrapped so thick in bandages that it was unmovable. Could he move it if there weren’t any bandages, anyway?

Katsuki could feel the pounding in his chest. It paired with the beeping of the monitor next to him. The beating of a heart too strong for his broken body.

He clutched the fabric on his chest with his left hand. Maybe if he squeezed hard enough, he could pull the organ out of him. It didn’t belong.

Tears started welling in his eyes. Since when did he cry so easily, damn it.

“Edgeshot’s work was proficient enough to get you through that battle,” the doctor explained to Katsuki and his parents when the boy was finally lucid enough to comprehend anything. “Unfortunately, that’s all it was good for. We tried to work with it as best as we could, but your heart was too unstable. A transplant was required in order to sustain your life, Mr. Bakugo.”

Katsuki looked slowly from the doctor to his parents, his drugged brain still slow to process.

“So…” he said slowly, his voice hoarse, “I’ve got some extra’s heart inside of me? …What bastard had to die just so I could live?”

The beeping coming from the monitor was slow and steady, yet unfamiliar to Katsuki’s ears. The heart pumping blood through his body right now wasn’t the one he’d gone his whole life with? It had grown from someone else’s chest? Pumped blood through someone else’s body? Acted as their literal source of life up until now?

“The donor was already in critical condition,” the doctor explained. Katsuki didn’t notice the pitying look passing between his parents. “In fact, their heart was one of the few undamaged organs in their body. Knowing of your condition and their own, the donor chose to donate to you, specifically. They would’ve passed either way. The heart would’ve died with them had they not chosen this path. No sacrifice was made in order to preserve your life, young man.”

But some bastard had still rescued Katsuki in a way that he would never be able to pay back. He couldn’t stand it. He hadn’t asked them to give up their heart for him. He never would have.

He looked up, his eyes glazing over the tears in his parent’s eyes as he locked his gaze on the doctor.

“So who was it?” Katsuki demanded. “I want to know. Or are they a coward and chose not to reveal their identity to me?”

The doctor glanced nervously at the boy’s parents. Katsuki followed his gaze, finally noticing the tears now spilling from his mother’s and father’s eyes.

Fear sprung in his heart. Or— uh— the heart in his chest. The foreign entity trying to take over. The beeping on the monitor sped up, just slightly.

“Katsuki,” his mother breathed as she crouched down, taking Katsuki’s hand in her own. Her eyes were locked on his, a look fixed in them that was meant for Katsuki to decipher.

Despite how slow he was, he understood the look in her eyes.

His chest started pounding. The beeping quickened noticeably. It was all Katsuki could focus on. The heart. The heart that wasn’t his. The heart that wasn’t ever supposed to be his. No matter how much he wanted it to be.

“No,” he whimpered, his voice breaking, his eyes locked with his mother’s. “No, no, no, no, no— it’s not. It’s not. It can’t be. Please, tell me it’s not. Please, please, please—”

A sob tore through his throat. Tears poured down his cheeks. The beeping kept getting faster and faster and faster. He couldn’t stop it. He wanted it gone. He wanted the whole thing gone. He shouldn’t have it.

“I’m sorry,” his mother breathed. She gripped Katsuki’s upper arm as he shook with sobs, the beating in his chest the only thing he could focus on.

He reached up to clutch at his chest. He could feel it inside him. He didn’t want to.

He could hear his mother’s words. The answer to his question even though he clearly already knew it. But still, the words that left her lips echoed through his head. If it wasn’t already blown to pieces, those two words would’ve shattered his heart all over again.

“It’s Izuku…”

____________________

What was Katsuki to do with that? How selfish could Izuku have been to let him deal with this? By the time Katsuki woke up from all his surgeries, it was too late to even consider giving Izuku his heart back. He was long gone. And besides, his heart seemed to make itself comfortable in Katsuki’s chest just fine.

But the bastard left without ever even saying a word to Katsuki. He’d made a decision that Katsuki would never have agreed to. If Izuku said he wanted to give Katsuki his heart, Katsuki would’ve laughed in his face.

You stupid nerd. We’re both strong enough to pull through this, no matter what those shitty doctors say. I don’t want your shitty heart, anyway. It’s not strong enough for me.

But Izuku’s heart was so much. Katsuki never knew his own heart was so weak until he’d spent just a few days with Izuku’s. It was so full of everything that Katsuki had once hated about Izuku. His strength, his kindness, his passion.

He couldn’t stand the pounding. He couldn’t stand the beeping. No matter how hard he tried blocking it out, Izuku’s heart took up all his attention. It was a constant reminder of the fact that Katsuki would never see him again. That it wasn’t a prank. There was no way Izuku could come walking through the door with his stupid smile if his heart was beating inside Katsuki’s chest.

More tears fell from Katsuki’s eyes. No wonder the damn nerd cried so much. How couldn’t he cry when his heart made him feel everything?

“You idiot,” Katsuki hissed, lifting his hand to smear the wet tears on his cheeks. “Couldn’t have even left me a damn note? What am I supposed to do with your stupid heart, huh? What am I supposed to feel if you’re not here to feel it with me? Why couldn’t you at least say goodbye to me…”

His voice broke again and he collapsed into sobs. He seemed to be doing that a lot in his hospital stay.

It was no better when he returned to school. The constant pounding in his chest, like he would never be brave again. The feeling of all the stares, boring into Katsuki’s chest as everyone thought ‘So you’re the reason the Symbol of Hope is gone? Why couldn’t you have died instead?’.

Katsuki found himself wishing Izuku had just died completely. Katsuki could live with anyone else’s heart. He could eventually live with Izuku’s death. He’d be able to ignore the lingering presence in the seat directly behind him well enough. But when the nerd’s heart was leaping and bounding inside Katsuki’s ribcage, trying to escape as if it, too, finally realized it doesn’t belong, Izuku’s presence was just too strong to ignore.

That and he could feel the weight of his classmates' grief. You took our beloved classmate from us, and what did you do to deserve that from him?

Nothing. Katsuki had done nothing to deserve Izuku’s heart. He knew that. He knew that better than anyone.

Katsuki couldn’t hear a word his teacher was telling them. The blood pumping in his ears was too difficult to tune out. He could still hear the muttering behind him. He imagined he could lean his head back and his eyes would catch on those bright green ones. The face that never failed to smile at him.

The heart in his chest leapt, like it, too, wanted to return to its original home. Katsuki wouldn’t have hesitated to let it.

The school day ended. No one talked to him. Katsuki trudged to his dorm; his new, second-year dorm. The school had taken the liberty of moving all the students’ stuff over to make the change easier. That, and, Class 2A had needed quite a bit of recovery time in hospital rooms. They had no time to clear out their dorm for the incoming Class 1A.

Katsuki’s room was on floor 4, but he didn’t think he could stand his own room at the moment. Instead he found himself standing in the middle of the hallway on floor 2. The door in front of him was labeled “Izuku Midoriya”, because apparently the school was too hopeful that he would make it out of that hospital alive. To be fair, how many times had he come out of a hospital with nothing more than a few scars? How was the school to know that he wouldn’t make it out of this one?

Izuku’s room reeked of familiarity. Katsuki had never really seen it before, but he didn’t doubt that whoever was assigned to move Izuku’s stuff over had set it up exactly how Izuku did at their old dorms. Some of the All Might posters and figures were ones Katsuki could remember Izuku acquiring as a kid. Some were new.

Katsuki kicked off his slippers and settled himself on top of the bed. He avoided getting under the covers. He didn’t want to surround himself with Izuku’s scent, but the aroma still wafted up to him. The pounding in his chest calmed a bit.

He fell asleep there, still in his uniform.

When he woke up, the sun hadn’t even broken over the horizon, yet. Katsuki was an earlier riser than a lot of his class, but never “ass-crack-of-dawn” early. That was always Izuku’s thing, so he tried to force himself to go back to sleep. The pounding in his chest kept him awake.

Whatever, thought Katsuki, sitting up and readjusting his blazer which had tangled up in his sleep. Better for none of my classmates to see me coming out of his room anyway.

Katsuki wished he could exercise. At least go for a jog or something. But the doctor had told him not to push himself. Heart transplants were tedious, after all, and the new heart had to adjust itself to Katsuki’s body.

Katsuki grunted. Izuku’s heart had made itself right at home in Katsuki’s body. What did he need to take it easy for? Izuku wouldn’t have taken it easy. The rapid beating of his heart was clear evidence of that.

But Katsuki settled onto one of the common room sofas anyway. He stared forward as the sun gradually came up and as his classmates started filing in and busying themselves in the kitchen and at the tables with their homework. He stared forward when they offered him some breakfast, setting it on the coffee table in front of him when he didn’t say a word. Didn’t even react. 

Why were they all being so nice to him? It was a show. They all hated him. He could feel it. He could feel their judging stares as they stared at his chest, separating Izuku’s heart from Katsuki’s body. He could hear the bitter thoughts in their minds. You claim you were closest to him, but you were the only one of us who didn’t go to his funeral. What is wrong with you?

As if Katsuki hadn’t been pinned down by nurses after his several attempts to escape to it. To be there with his mom and his dad and with Auntie. To be there with Izuku. To get to see him one last time. Maybe he could still give him his heart back. Maybe it would’ve worked. Maybe the nerd could’ve come back to life and had to deal with Katsuki’s death in front of everyone instead. Katsuki would’ve traded his hospital bed for Izuku’s coffin in a heartbeat.

The beating of Izuku’s heart quickened as Katsuki thought of it all again. The tears started forming again, but Katsuki forced them down. His classmates would never ever see him cry. Not only did Bakugo steal his heart; he stole his tears, too? What’s next? His quirk?

A hideous thought formed in Katsuki’s mind. What if Izuku had given his quirk to Katsuki through his heart? It was transferred through DNA, right? What if the nerd had forced it onto Katsuki? Katsuki would never be able to live with himself if Izuku had done that. He’d have to give it away at the first chance he got.

But then again, hadn’t Izuku talked about the past users? How he could talk to them? Without a second thought, Katsuki reached deep inside himself, trying to conjure up the image of Izuku in that void prison he’d so often bring up.

No image came up, and suddenly Katsuki was heartbroken over the idea that Izuku hadn’t given him his quirk.

“Bakugo!” Kirishima’s voice called from somewhere by the door. Katsuki forced his gaze from off the table in front of him. “Class is starting soon. Are you coming?”

Katsuki let out a deep exhale, trying to calm the heart bouncing around his ribcage.

The school day was just another round of “How Much Can Katsuki Ignore His Dead Friend?”. He still expected to walk in and see that annoying smile in the seat behind his. He still thought he could hear the constant muttering and scratching of a pencil. He still felt the weight of the class’s stares.

When they were released, Katsuki went back to Izuku’s dorm without saying a word to anyone. He rifled through the stuff, trying to find something he could use to calm this ache in his chest. He found one of Izuku’s notebooks. Number 13. The one he’d exploded.

He clutched the notebook close to his chest and climbed onto the bed, not even bothering to open it at all. He stared at the ceiling until the light faded from the room and he was asleep again.

Each day floated past Katsuki like fallen leaves trapped in a roaring current. He was trying to get used to this heart, which was just so full of everything, and get used to Izuku not being there for him at the same time. 

A statue was installed in front of the main doors of the school. A version of Izuku that seemed to live inside Katsuki’s head stood tall, despite how short his five-year-old self is, his hand outstretched as he welcomed people into UA. “You, too, can become a hero.” was inscribed on the plaque at its base. Who had told the school to make this statue? Inko? All Might? Why was it the same version of Izuku that played inside Katsuki’s mind every time he fell into that damn river?

Katsuki spent a long time every day standing in front of that statue. It stood at roughly the same height as him, so it was easy for him to reach forward and grab his hand. The heart in his chest beat hard every time he was there. Katsuki wished he could give the heart to this statue.

After his visits to the statue, Katsuki would make his way back to Izuku’s dorm. He’d flip through journals, mess with the figures, wrap himself in Izuku’s blankets, trying to find any remnant of the nerd in this room. The only one was beating inside his own chest.

One day, he finally worked up the courage to join the rest of the school in the cafeteria. He had been thinking about nabbing some mapo tofu the whole while he stood in the line. But then, when he finally got to the counter.

“Katsudon, please.”

He didn’t know what had possessed him to say it. Maybe the student who had walked by with a plate of it, causing Katsuki’s stomach to lurch and he suddenly had an intense craving for the dish. Katsudon had always been Izuku’s favorite food. Why did that mean Katsuki had to suddenly start liking it?

He was given his tray of his dead friend’s favorite food, then he wandered off to find where Class 2A had gathered in the cafeteria. 

Kirishima, Kaminari, and the rest of Katsuki’s usual crew were nowhere in sight. But Icy Hot and Pink Cheeks and Glasses and the rest of them were sitting around a table, talking. Their mood seemed solemn. It was no wonder why.

Katsuki was good enough friends with Todoroki to sit next to him, right? There was an empty spot next to him. Katsuki’s chest seemed to be tugging him in that direction anyway.

They all went silent when Katsuki dropped his tray onto the table and sat down without permission and without a word. This is completely normal, he told himself as he ignored their watchful gazes and fiddled with fixing his chopsticks in his left hand, struggling all the way. He pinched the sticks together, trying to pick a piece of pork from his plate, but the chopsticks came crashing together, the piece of meat flinging itself back onto the plate and the chopsticks flying from Katsuki’s hand. He grumbled and fixed the two utensils back in his grip, determined to get it right.

“I didn’t know you were left-handed, Bakugo,” Todoroki said after a long while of the nerd’s friends just watching Katsuki struggle.

“I’m clearly not, idiot,” Katsuki bit, capturing a piece of pork in his utensils again.

“And I didn’t know you were a fan of katsudon,” Todoroki continued, dense as ever.

“Neither did I,” Katuski grumbled, finally managing to get a piece of the dish into his mouth. His tastebuds seemed to explode as he chewed into the meat. Since when had this food been so damn tasty?

As Katsuki continued to struggle with his meal, he could hear the unspoken words floating around the table.

Katsudon was Izuku’s favorite.

We were Izuku’s friends.

That was Izuku’s heart.

Katsuki would have just given up and left had he not found such familiar comfort sitting with these people.

The table was still tense when the bell rang to send them back to class. Katsuki had only made it about halfway through his food, but he considered it a victory and threw the rest of the uneaten food away.

He still couldn’t pay attention in class, the pounding in his head incessant. But the katsudon had settled inside him and a strange warmth bloomed. He hated it, but at the same time, he ached for more of the familiarity.

In Izuku’s dorm later, Katsuki wrapped himself in the blankets. He had been clutching one of Izuku’s stupid journals against himself. Unfortunately, the pounding had not subsided.

Katsuki took a breath. He settled his left palm over his chest, trying to feel out the steady ba-dump ba-dump of Izuku’s heart. It was so subtle against his hand, which was strange considering he could feel the pounding so obviously inside himself.

“Izuku…” he breathed, tightening his hold over his chest. “Would you calm down, already?”

The pounding just got louder. Katsuki sucked in a deep breath, trying to regain control. He couldn’t. He couldn’t control Izuku’s heart no matter how hard he tried.

The next day, he was finally able to process some of his teacher’s words.

“Tomorrow we’re going to start participating in some relief efforts,” Mr. Aizawa announced, the rhythm of his words in line with the beating in Katsuki’s ears. “We’ve all lost a lot in this war…”

His words hung in the classroom for a moment. All anyone was thinking about was the absence in seat 18. Katsuki clutched at his chest.

“We’re going to do our best to help citizens where we can,” Aizawa continued. “That’s what heroes do.”

The teacher then left so the students could prepare for their next class. But Katsuki was stuck on Aizawa’s words.

We’ve all lost a lot in this war…

Katsuki was the reason. He was the reason they lost him.

And then the tears were flooding.

Katsuki didn’t even blink, but they were too much and they fell from his eyes. He watched them splatter onto his desk. Then his shoulders were shaking and he was sucking in shaky breaths. His hand trembled as he clutched his chest tighter and tighter.

“Bakugo?” someone said from next to him. Jiro. “Hey, are you alright?”

Then he felt the eyes on him again. His previous concerns about his classmates seeing him cry like a baby faded from his mind. He just wanted to cry. He didn’t care.

“He—” Katsuki squeaked, “he wasn’t— supposed to—”

A tiny sob tore through his throat.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

He removed his hand from his chest and wiped some of the tears from his cheeks.

He could sense them all inching closer to him. Their confusion was so palpable. They didn’t know what to do with a crying Katsuki.

“I miss him…” Katsuki whimpered, his voice breaking. He hung his head lower, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the tears spill onto his desk.

Then there was a hand on his left shoulder. A strangely familiar hand. He straightened up to see Uraraka looming over him, a pitying smile on her face. Yet Katsuki couldn’t help but lean into her touch. It was slowing the rapid beating in his chest.

“We all miss him,” Uraraka breathed, crouching down just slightly. “We miss him so much. You’re not alone in that, Bakugo.”

She crouched down even more. Her eyes were starting to shine with wetness.

“But, you know? I think even before, we all kept him with us, right? …Who in here hasn’t thought ‘what would Deku do?’ at some point…”

Katsuki felt his lips start to tremble. He couldn’t snap his eyes away from Uraraka. The weight of his classmates’ eyes were still on his back. Should he be embarrassed now? He decided not, and let more tears fall down his cheeks.

“We just have to make sure even more now,” Uraraka continued, her voice gentle and quiet, “to keep him with us. In here…”

Without warning, she was pressing her palm onto Katsuki’s chest. He snapped and slapped her hand away, clutching his own hand right where hers just was and turning from her pitiful gaze.

 “I don’t need the shitty reminder!” he bit, curling tighter in on himself. The heart was beating rapidly. It ached. Katsuki couldn’t tell if it was because he was hurt from Uraraka’s words, or if Izuku was hurt from Katsuki snapping at her. He balled the cloth on his chest in his fist. “Leave me alone.”

Uraraka stayed at his side for another few moments, Katsuki wasn’t sure why. Then her footsteps echoed through the room as she walked back across it to her own desk. The room was filled with tension, but no longer was confusion in the air. Katsuki had done a very “Katsuki” thing after all. He was back to normal.

That afternoon, he was finally able to bathe again. The doctor told him that before the stitches had done their job, he couldn’t get them wet, but now his skin had healed over where the stitches were pinching pieces of his skin together. In all honesty, he wished he could’ve been able to rip the stitches out, if it meant he’d be able to extricate Izuku’s heart from his body.

He was the only one in the baths for a long while. It was relaxing to sit in the piping hot water, steam filling the air so much that Katsuki’s skin was becoming sticky with sweat. Even Izuku had seemed to calm down enough for Katsuki not to feel like his chest would explode. Izuku’s heart was so exhausting, he realized.

Katsuki leaned his head back and forced his eyes shut. He always seemed to be too tired for his own good lately. He hated how healing made him tired. He just wanted to do things already.

The door to the baths flung open, and Katsuki’s sanctuary was shattered.

His head shot up, gaze landing on his friends waltzing into the room with towels wrapped around their waists. It didn’t take long for them to notice him.

“Hey! Bakugo!” Kirishima beamed at him, raising his hand in greeting and then rushing over. “Man I totally thought you were avoiding us or something!”

Katsuki thought he’d been avoiding everyone, whether he meant to or not.

“I tried to find you at lunch yesterday,” he mumbled instead. It was so exhausting to use his voice.

“Oh yeah,” Sero said as the group climbed into the water. “We’ve been using our lunch periods to help with relief work close to the school.”

“Honestly, you shouldn’t be coming with us,” Kaminari added. “We know how banged up you got in that fight. You should be resting.”

Wasn’t as ‘banged up’ as I could have been, thought Katsuki, suddenly focusing on the beating in his chest again. It was still slow and steady.

“Speaking of,” Kirishima started, leaning closer to Katsuki, “those scars on your chest look pretty gnarly! They don’t look like the stuff Edgeshot did, though. Did the doctors have to patch you up some, too? I thought you’d be fine, the way you were flying around out there!”

What the hell did he mean, ‘did the doctors have to patch you up’? Of course they would have if they needed to remove his heart from his body and give him a new one. Did the idiot know how much technical work went into a heart transplant? Unless…

Katsuki’s shoulders sank.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

None of them…

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

None of his classmates knew about the…

Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum—

“Bakugo?” Kirishima asked. He was suddenly right next to Katsuki, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you good? I’m sorry I brought that up so soon—”

“Yeah, the doctors had to do some work,” Katsuki admitted, locking his gaze on the water.

“Oh man, that stinks!” Kirishima cried, although he looked relieved. “Is that one of the reasons you were in the hospital so much longer than the rest of us?”

The pounding in Katsuki’s chest had subsided. He took a deep breath. He wanted to be normal. He wanted to be with his friends right now.

“Yeah,” he affirmed quietly. He laid his left hand gently onto his chest.

____________________

Maybe word had gotten around the class that Katsuki was actually willing to talk to people again, because his classmates wouldn’t stop bothering him after that.

Bakugo! Do you want some dinner?

Bakugo! D’ya want some of these muffins?

Bakugo! Would you like help with classwork you’ve missed?

No longer could he imagine that his classmates hated him for taking Izuku’s heart. They didn’t know. They never knew. Of course, why would they? They didn’t have a right to know and who would have a right to tell them?

Izuku could remain as Katsuki’s and no one else’s. Or at least the secret of him would. Secrets were their thing, weren’t they? What’s another one?

Which is how Katsuki started hanging out in the common area again instead of just in Izuku's room. He could sit on the couch and hold his hand against his chest, letting himself absorb the feeling of Izuku’s beating heart, and no one had to know that he was the reason it wasn’t still beating inside of Izuku’s own body. Sometimes he’d cry. The class let him.

“Bakugo!” someone called out to him one night as he did this, without the tears tonight. He slowly lifted his head to find the source of the sound. It was Uraraka again. She stepped toward him, holding something in her hands like a precious treasure.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” she said, stopping in front of him, a mix of pity and concern on her face. “I didn’t know when to bring this up, but I was supposed to give this to you.”

The heart was calm as Katsuki sat up straight and reached forward. When Uraraka held out the object, he finally pieced together that it was a photo frame.

“Mrs. Midoriya asked me to bring this to you,” she explained. “It’s from… the funeral. She wanted you to have it real bad!”

That was when Uraraka finally, carefully, set the item in Katsuki’s hand. The heart was bouncing around again. It did that a lot. Katsuki flipped the frame around to see what it was holding.

Tears sprung to his eyes immediately. 

The picture had been taken when he and Izuku were four. Before Katsuki’s quirk developed and Izuku was told his never would. When they were still equals. Friends.

Little Izuku clung to Katsuki’s neck, pinning the two of them together with squished cheeks, still full of baby fat. A look of annoyance was caught in Katsuki’s eyes, but he was grinning. Like Izuku had just caught ahold of him, throwing him off guard, but the blond little boy was still delighted to be hugged by his best friend.

“I had no idea you two knew each other so long,” Uraraka said after a moment, breaking Katsuki from his trance. “I mean, I knew you both knew each other before high school, but I didn’t know you were toddlers together!”

Katsuki let a tear fall down his cheek. There were a lot of things the class didn’t know about his and Izuku’s relationship.

The friendship. The secrets. The bullying. The heart.

Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum—

“We’ve known each other for as long as I can remember,” Katsuki said, his voice breaking as he let more tears escape down his face, clutching the photo tightly in his left hand.

His shoulders started to shake as he let himself cry tiny cries. The tears started splattering on the glass of the photo frame. Uraraka still stood in front of him, like she was expecting something. More stories maybe? No. Katsuki wouldn’t give them to her. The memories he had of Izuku were for him.

Somewhere behind him, voices were murmuring.

“Hey, doesn’t Bakugo seem way weird lately?” a lispy voice asked. It was that stupid grape boy. “Like, he cries all the time. He’s literally never cried before.”

“His best friend is dead, Mineta,” Jiro hissed at him. “Can’t you try to be a little sensitive?”

“I was just saying! No need to get all snappy at me!”

Katsuki stood quickly and pushed past Uraraka, who didn’t move at all. He rushed down the hall to the elevator, the photo frame tightly in his grip. There was no one in the hallway of the second floor to see him sneak into Izuku’s room.

The photo was set right next to all the All Might figures with more care than Katsuki had ever given anything in his life.

His eyes were still locked on it as he backed up towards the bed and let himself fall onto it. Almost instinctively now, he wrapped the blankets around himself and just sat. Staring at the picture.

If Katsuki had never bullied Izuku. If he’d never seen him as just a useless, quirkless kid. Maybe Izuku would’ve gotten into UA without needing All Might’s stupid quirk. Then he wouldn’t have been a stupid chosen one. Then he wouldn’t have died. Some other stupid chosen one would have and Izuku would still be right here in his room, setting up more, stupid All Might figures and posters.

Katsuki was such a stupid kid, wasn’t he?

He was wrapped in a hyper-realistic dream that night.

When he opened his eyes and sat up, Izuku was sitting at the foot of the bed. He was leaning back against the wall, his hands wrapped around one bent knee, the other leg dangling off the side of the bed. His piercing green eyes were locked on something on the other side of the room. Katsuki’s heart leapt at the sight.

“Izuku…” Katsuki whimpered. His voice was unsteady. He shifted in the blankets so he could sit more comfortably, but he didn’t feel any of the weight of them. That’s when he pieced together that this was a dream. He pinched his lips together.

“Are you…” he whispered unsteadily. “Are you the real Izuku…”

A tiny puff of air left the boy’s mouth, his eyes crinkling in a sad sort of smile.

“What do you think?”

Katsuki’s wide eyes relaxed. His shoulders slumped. Of course it was too much to ask for the ghost of his friend to visit him after he’d died. What would Izuku want to visit him for?

“Why am I dreaming about you, then?” Katsuki asked. He moved the weightless blankets on top of him to wrap over his back. He didn’t want anything between him and Izuku.

“You miss me,” said Izuku. His gaze was still lost somewhere else. “I miss you, too.”

Katsuki had to bite back a retort. How could the Izuku in his head possibly know anything? He was just making stuff up.

A few moments passed before either of them said anything. Then Izuku finally turned and locked his eyes on Katsuki’s. He shrank back from Izuku’s gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku said, and there was a remnant of the real Izuku in those words. “You know that, right? You know I wouldn’t have chosen this for no reason.”

Katsuki watched his own fist tighten on the blankets. The phantom feeling of Izuku’s heart in his real body was breaking through. It was starting to beat faster.

“How could you— give up?” His voice was starting to break more. “You could’ve kept fighting. We could’ve both lived.”

He turned to find something to look at that wasn’t Izuku’s pitying gaze.

“Now you’re gone,” Katsuki continued, “and you never gave me a chance to say goodbye. I never got to tell you— anything I needed to. You’re such an asshole.”

Tears started dripping from Katsuki’s eyes, and he could actually feel them on his face. Perhaps they were dripping from his real eyes, too. He let phantom sobs bubble up his throat. 

Then a hand was cupping his cheek. It turned his face back. Izuku was on his knees, fully facing Katsuki now. The thumb of his hand on Katsuki’s cheek was gently wiping some of the tears. Though Katsuki could still feel them dripping in his real body.

“I already knew,” Izuku reassured, his voice gentle enough for Katsuki to believe it was real. “I didn’t have to hear it from you. I already saw it.”

Saw what? That Katsuki believed he could never make up for everything he did to him? That Katsuki wanted to keep chasing him for the rest of their lives? That Katsuki truly believed he was the greatest hero there was, even if it was just to him? That Katsuki—

“Kacchan…” Izuku breathed. He carried the word like it was the most fragile thing in the world. Like breaking it would be unforgivable.

And the tears were flooding again.

Katsuki collapsed into Izuku’s arms. He dug his head into the boy’s chest as he clutched his own with both hands. His whole body shook with violent sobs that tore up his throat. Izuku’s hold on him tightened, one hand twisting itself into Katsuki’s hair so it could cradle the blond’s head.

“Who else,” Katsuki choked, the sobs wet. He could hardly get the words out in between the cries. “Who else— is gonna call me that?”

He choked on more sobs, sinking deeper into Izuku’s arms.

Every time he heard the name started replaying in his head. The word echoed inside his mind, ringing like ears tend to do in the aftermath of an explosion. Kacchan. Kacchan. Kacchan.

“I won’t ever hear it again?”

His voice was so squeaky it didn’t even feel like his own.

Those were all the words he could manage before he just broke into a mess of sobs in Izuku’s arms. He briefly wondered if he was doing the same thing in the physical world as well, but he decided he didn’t care. Izuku was running his fingers through his hair and drawing lines up and down his back and Katsuki could feel it. He decided that was the only thing he cared about right now.

It took him what felt like an eternity to calm down enough to lift himself out of Izuku’s hold. He still sucked in shaky breaths, but his eyes were dried of tears. His eyes caught on Izuku’s, then he squeezed them shut again.

“You selfish bastard,” he squeaked out, trying to sound like himself again, but his voice was still too soft and too high.

Izuku let his hands fall from Katsuki’s shoulders.

“Will you accept it this time?” he asked. “Please.”

Katsuki opened his eyes.

Izuku was holding his hand out to him, palm up. His eyes were flooded with a pleading look that Katsuki saw far too many times.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Katsuki imagined Izuku lying in that hospital bed, hearing of his friend’s condition. 

“I was worried you might’ve hit your head or something!”

Katsuki stared down at Izuku’s hand. He imagined it held his heart. The one now beating inside of Katsuki’s chest at a steady pace.

And despite all they had gone through, Katsuki still didn’t want to need Izuku’s help.

Izuku retracted his hand after Katsuki didn’t take it for a long time. A look of disappointment that Katsuki was all too familiar with was caught in his eyes.

Still…

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Katsuki breathed. He couldn’t bring himself to look into Izuku’s eyes.

The boy across from him remained silent. An invitation to continue.

Katsuki reached up with his right hand to clutch at his chest.

“Honestly, it’s probably just your stupid heart making me feel things… but…”

Katsuki thought of the picture on the desk and the blankets wrapped around him. The aching scent of Izuku trapped in the room.

“I think…”

He thought of when the two of them locked eyes, right after he came back to life. The feeling that exploded inside his chest that wasn’t like the ones that brought him back.

He thought of the name and the muttering and the competition and the training and the history and the apology and the green curls and the freckles. He thought of the absence in the seat behind him that he just couldn’t ignore no matter how hard he tried. He thought of his pounding heart anytime they were near.

“I think I love you.”

His lips trembled. He felt his eyes start to wobble.

Izuku’s smile played in his head. The way Katsuki had become so gentle with him, even though no amount of it would make up for his actions in the past.

Yeah. He loved Izuku.

“And I never got to tell you,” he whimpered. He thought he had no tears left, but he was proven wrong. He squeezed his eyes shut and let them fall.

He felt Izuku grab his hand, and he looked up. Izuku’s expression was unsurprised. Those green eyes were so intense. His mouth was turned upward, just slightly. He was giving Katsuki the most gentle, quiet smile that the boy could ever give anyone.

“I know…”

And from the way Izuku’s heart was beating so rapidly inside Katsuki’s chest, Katsuki wanted to believe that those words might just be true.

____________________

He didn’t know what possessed him when he found himself standing in front of the door to the Midoriya home. He just knew that his chest ached whenever he imagined Auntie sitting in there all by herself, no longer waiting on anyone to come home.

When she opened the door, her eyes, which were already filled with such a dejected look, turned on Katsuki with pity.

“Oh! Katsuki!” she sang, although Katsuki could hear her actual voice slipping through the cracks of this mask she was trying to put on. “It’s so good to see you. Please, come in!”

That smile reminded Katsuki of the ones Izuku would wear when he’d say ‘I’m fine’ but his soul was really shattering inside of him. He forced himself through the doorway after Inko.

She led him through the house. They passed Izuku’s door, which was left ajar. Katsuki could see how tidied the room was, save for the blankets covering the bed. When they were in the living room, Inko motioned for him to sit on the couch while she put some tea on.

Katsuki’s pulse was rapid.

What’s wrong? He thought to himself, his shoulders tensing. Shouldn’t you be calm here? This is your house. Your mother. Why are you freaking out?

“How is school going for you, Katsuki?” Inko asked when she returned. She handed Katsuki a cup of steaming tea. He took it gratefully and began drinking it in tiny sips. “Mitsuki and I visit often, but she said she hasn’t heard much from you lately.”

The taste of the tea burned itself into Katsuki’s mouth, and he recalled it as one of Izuku’s favorite flavors. Of course Auntie would have a stock of it. He took another sip, hoping it would settle the beating in his chest.

“Yeah, well,” Katsuki started slowly, “It’s been kind of hard to focus on anything. I guess I just forgot to reach out to her.”

Inko settled herself on the other side of the couch, cradling her cup of tea in her hands. Katsuki tapped his fingers on his. The warm glass felt comforting on his hands.

Many moments passed in which Katsuki and Inko sat in silence. Her presence was comforting, Katsuki realized. He hoped she felt the same of him, but honestly, who knew what she thought of Katsuki? Who knew the things Izuku would come running home to tell her about him in junior high?

“Auntie?” Katsuki finally worked up the courage to ask.

“Yes, Katsuki? What is it?”

He could still hear the exhausted tone of her voice. She sounded a lot like Katsuki had felt for a long while as well. He wondered if his classmates looked at him and saw the same broken person that she was.

“Why did you let him do it?”

He was afraid his voice was barely audible when he asked it. The grip he had on his cup of tea tightened. He focused on the steam rising and disappearing into the air in little wisps. He didn’t want to look at Auntie and see how he had broken her.

But he had to know. And he wasn’t one to sugarcoat.

There was a long while before she finally answered. The mask had fallen from her voice, leaving her with something that Katsuki hardly recognized.

“I didn’t want him to,” she said. Katsuki finally looked up to see her focused on the steam of her tea as well. 

She took a deep breath before continuing.

“I told him that he had survived worse before. He’d come out this time, too.”

Her eyes glazed over like she was standing back in that hospital room with her son still in front of her.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“But he said ‘not this time, Mom’.”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Her eyes glistened with tears.

An awful pit started forming in Katsuki’s gut. His jaw started hurting. Just seeing the tears in Auntie’s eyes evoked a gut-wrenching emotion inside of him. He didn’t want her to be crying alone.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“Mitsuki told me about your condition,” she continued, a strange resolve in her tone. Like she wanted Katsuki to hear this. Like she felt he deserved to know. He deserved nothing. “I don’t know how Izuku heard, but once he did, he’d made up his mind.”

Of course you did. You’re the most stubborn person I know.

A heavy weight settled itself on Katsuki’s already aching shoulders. The aftertaste of the tea became bitter in his mouth.

“I tried to tell him,” Auntie pushed on. Her voice was starting to break. “We could wait. You might both get better. He wouldn’t know if it’s really… the end… But if he chose to give up his heart… there would be no coming back.”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump—

Katsuki bent forward, grabbing at his chest again. It hurt. It hurt so bad. He took it from Izuku. He’s the reason Izuku isn’t—

“‘Mom…’”

His eyes flicked over to Inko. She was looking at him now, her eyes filled with determination despite the glittering tears building up in them.

“‘If I can save just one more…’” she went on, and he realized she was quoting him.

He imagined her watching him in the hospital bed, more bandages covering him than they ever had before. His body disintegrating before her eyes. His voice raspy. The only remnant of strength were the stubborn glint in his eyes and the steady beeping coming from the monitor beside his bed.

Katsuki heard Izuku’s voice saying those words.

“…then I have to. That’s what a hero would do.”

Tears fell from Katsuki’s eyes. He had no shame anymore.

“He told me,” Auntie continued. There was that resolve in her eyes again. “‘If Kacchan is the one, then I’ll be saving countless others. You’ll see. He’s gonna be the greatest hero there is. He’ll save everyone.’”

Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum—

Katsuki’s mouth ached from the pressure of trying to contain his tears. How could Izuku think so highly of him? He wasn’t the one who defeated the big bad in the end. It was Izuku. Izuku was the one who kept inspiring people and saving people and helping people no matter if he was capable or not.

“‘If I don’t save him, then I’m letting all those people get hurt.’,” Inko finished. 

She reached forward to set her cup of tea onto the coffee table. Katsuki realized that not a drop of it entered her mouth. Then, without warning, she took Katsuki’s hand in her own. The one he’d been clutching his chest with.

“He trusts you, Katsuki,” she said, tightening her hold on the boy’s hand. “And so do I. He was right. If there was one person worthy of having his heart, it’s you.”

Katsuki’s lips shook. He scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes, starting to shake his head. No. No. I’m the least worthy person there is. Anyone else could’ve taken it, but me?

“Auntie—” he squeaked. “I— I’m not—”

“You are, Katsuki.” She tugged him closer. Why did this small woman have such a strong grip? “You’re the only one strong enough to handle my boy’s heart…”

Katsuki spluttered out some nonsense, trying to argue further, but he couldn’t. Instead, he fell forward into Inko’s arms, still careful not to spill his tea on her. Wet sobs bubbled up his chest and up his throat and out his mouth. He was slobbering and snot was dripping from his nose and tears were leaking from his eyes. He felt bad for making a mess of Auntie’s shirt, but then again, she was probably used to this.

She wrapped her small arms over his back and drew him in close. She wasn’t sobbing loudly, like Katsuki was, but he could feel the slow tears dripping onto his back. They were just a shattered woman and the boy her son gave his heart to.

Katsuki couldn’t say how much time passed with him laying in her arms. It was such a familiar embrace to him, although he was certain he’d never hugged Auntie before. Except for maybe when he was very young, but still. He wasn’t one who even considered physical affection.

When he finally drew back, dried up of tears as much as he thought he could be, Inko placed her hand on top of his chest.

Ba-dump… Ba-dump… Ba-dump…

“Please take good care of it, Katsuki,” she breathed. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she was smiling at him. A real smile. “Izuku’s is the best heart there is. I don’t think any replacement would be suitable if you happened to break his heart, too.”

“I know, Auntie,” Katsuki breathed, cupping his left hand on top of hers. “I’ll take better care of it than I ever took of mine. That’s a promise.”

____________________

Against his better judgement, Katsuki tried to conjure up Izuku’s last moments in that hospital room.

Maybe Inko was sitting on a chair beside him. She just called Katsuki’s mother, who told her friend about her son’s dire condition. Izuku, who never did learn how to mind his own damn business, listened intently to every word he could make out.

When Inko hung up and turned her attention back to her son, he probably said something like, “Kacchan’s heart isn’t going to make it? He’s going to die?”

And Inko wouldn’t have known what to say to that, probably. She hadn’t expected her son to be eavesdropping, although she probably should have.

Izuku probably would’ve spaced out to the sound of his steady heart monitor. The constant beeping a reminder that he was still alive. He would’ve probably imagined what Katsuki’s own heart monitor sounded like. Neither of them could know, but Katsuki guessed that both of them were imagining the concerningly slow beeping echoing around his hospital room.

Izuku would’ve remembered what the doctors told him. That his condition was too critical and they wouldn’t be able to save him (incompetent doctors) and that he only had a couple days left, at most.

Then he would’ve remembered how his heart was one of the only things still in good condition. He was always good at protecting it in battle. Not like Katsuki who had stupidly got his own heart blown away by the big bad villain.

He would’ve turned to Inko with the same look of determination he always had when he set his mind to something.

“I want him to have my heart.”

Inko would’ve argued. No, Izuku shouldn’t give up his heart. Maybe he’d pull through this. It’d be stupid to give up now. Blah, blah, blah. But Izuku was always a stubborn piece of shit, wasn’t he?

“No, Mom,” he would’ve said gently. He was always gentle with his mother. Not like Katsuki. “I don’t think I’ll make it out of it this time.”

Auntie would’ve cried. Izuku, don’t say things like that. You don’t know that. The doctors don’t know how strong you are. They don’t know how strong Katsuki is. You’ll both get through this.

But Izuku knew. He could probably feel himself slipping away. But as long as he was still alive, until his final breath, he’d make sure he saved anyone he possibly could. It was his dream to save as many people as he could. Nothing, not even laying on his death bed, would stop him.

He’d squeeze Inko’s hand tightly in his own. Give her a knowing look. She’d finally be able to look him in the eyes.

“Mom… If I can save just one more… then I have to…”

Inko would probably see her baby boy laying on that bed, saying these things to her. She’d imagine him when he was quirkless and yet still determined to save people. Maybe then she’d finally realize why he was saying these things.

“That’s what a hero would do.”

Maybe the nerd would start crying then, but he’d still be trying to remain strong. He’d grip Auntie’s hand tighter and pull her closer.

“And if Kacchan is the one… then I’ll be saving so many more.”

Inko would look at him in confusion, maybe. So he’d be forced to elaborate, even though it’s exhausting for him to talk at all.

“You’ll see. Kacchan’s gonna be the greatest hero. He’ll save… everyone…”

Maybe he’d have went on, too. Katsuki imagined he would.

“…and I’ll be right there with him.”

He would’ve smiled then. Katsuki knew that. That stupid, wobbly, shaky smile that was paired with his glistening tears. Inko would’ve been silent.

“If I don’t save him, then he won’t be able to save them. I’d be letting all of them get hurt.”

Then he would’ve scowled, not angry, just determined to prove his point.

“So, you see, Mom? That’s why I need to give Kacchan my heart. If I don’t, then we’ll both die. And this way… we can both be heroes…”

As much as Auntie might’ve hated the idea, she couldn’t stop her son. She never could. No one ever could. 

They would’ve told the next doctor that came in. Are you sure? That’s a big decision. But Izuku’s mind was made up, and nothing would deter him.

A surgery would’ve been scheduled for as soon as possible, so that they didn’t risk losing Izuku’s heart before it could be transplanted. It all would’ve been done without Katsuki’s knowledge or permission. He was unconscious the whole time. Useless.

When it was time, they’d take Izuku’s bed and start rolling him out of the room and to the one where a dying Katsuki was unknowingly waiting for him. Inko would’ve kissed him on the forehead. He would’ve tried to do the same, but his body was already failing him. As he was swiped away, he would’ve drunk up the sight of his mother, her eyes spilling over with tears. Maybe All Might would’ve been there, too. Izuku would keep his eyes on them as long as he could. It’s the last time he’d ever be seeing them, after all. He’d give them a wave, but he’d be too exhausted for words.

The room they’d take him to would be cold and sterile and reek of death. It was Izuku’s grave, after all. Katsuki probably would’ve been in there already. Izuku would’ve winced at the unsteady beeping of his heart monitor, more confident than ever in his decision given the sturdy sound coming from his own.

They’d hook up wires and IV’s to Izuku’s arm. Maybe then, the fear would finally start setting in. He was really going to die. His human instinct would take over and he’d fight to keep his eyes open as long as he could. They’d become blurry, because Izuku never could contain his tears. The steady beeping that was coming from his monitor would pick up in pace rapidly.

Would Izuku have looked over at Katsuki? Useless Katsuki who couldn’t even open his eyes to see his friend right there. His friend who was minutes away from death. Why couldn’t he just open his eyes. He could’ve told Izuku all his feelings right there. Izuku could’ve gone to sleep in peace, maybe.

Maybe both their lives would flash before Izuku’s eyes. Their friendship. Katsuki’s quirk. Izuku’s lack of one. The taunting and mocking. The bullying. The harassment. The competition and hatred when they got to high school. The fighting. The chase. The redemption. The apology.

And then the friendship again.

They’d just got it back.

Would Izuku have second guessed his decision then?

No.

Even if he could’ve backed out, he never would’ve.

He was going to save someone.

He was going to save Kacchan.

Katsuki had no way of knowing what Izuku’s last words were. What his last thoughts were. Maybe they were of his time at UA. The friends he’d made, the people he’d met. Maybe they were of being a hero and how he’d actually got to live that dream, no matter how little time he had to do it. Maybe they were of his mom, or of All Might.

Maybe they were of him.

No. Katsuki didn’t want to flatter himself.

Either way, the breathing mask would’ve been fixed onto Izuku’s face, if it wasn’t already before. The drugs would start pumping into his bloodstream, making him drowsy. And then he’d finally close his eyes and go to sleep, knowing that they wouldn’t ever be opening again.

When the surgery is done, Katsuki’s heart monitor would finally be beeping steadily again. Izuku’s would be ringing out a constant tone. Finally, the doctors would unhook the monitor from him, knowing there’s really no use for it anymore. 

Both boys would be returned to their parents, one covered in a spare sheet and the other pieced together with countless stitches. Ignorant Katsuki never knew how close he had been to saying goodbye to Izuku.

____________________

“There’s something I feel I have to tell you all.”

Why did Katsuki feel so frightened at the weight of all his classmates’ eyes? Why was he always so frightened of everything lately?

He sat at one of the tables in the common area. His right arm hung limply off the chair. His left was bracing his head on up. He inched his fingers in and out of his hair. A nervous habit he seemed to be developing. He could feel the heart pounding in every part of his body. Didn’t Izuku always get stage fright?

“What is it, Bakugo?” Kirishima asked. Katsuki realized he had been sitting in aching silence.

He’d done so many hard things before. Why was he so terrified of this?

“Listen,” he started slowly, sitting up but keeping his eyes locked on the table. “This isn’t something that any of you need to know. I could easily keep it a secret if I wanted to. And honestly, a part of me does. But I feel like you all deserve to know… Because you’re my friends…”

Already he could hear the thoughts buzzing around inside their brains.

Friends? Bakugo actually called us his friends?

He’s willingly sharing a secret?

What on earth had him so nervous?

He’s never like this.

“You can tell us whatever you need to, Bakugo,” Yaoyorozu affirmed gently, taking a seat opposite Katsuki. There was that pitying tone again. “No matter what it is, we’ll support you.”

“Class 2A sticks together!” Iida added. Always surpassing his duties as class rep.

The rest of the class hummed agreements. Katsuki couldn’t help but feel small and vulnerable. Was this how Izuku always felt?

“It’s like this, okay.”

He couldn’t muster up the courage or the energy to project his voice. He sensed his eager classmates leaning in, trying to soak up his words. This was the first Bakugo willingly gave them personal information, after all. Blood was rushing in his ears, to the point he was afraid he might actually pass out. God, Izuku’s heart was so exhausting.

Finally, he took a deep breath.

“When my heart got blown away,” he breathed, even quieter now, “the doctors… they couldn’t piece it back together for me. It got me through that last fight, but it wasn’t gonna last much longer…”

Katsuki remembered being in that stuffy hospital room, trying to process the fact that his heart and his best friend were taken from him all in the time that he slept. He was too helpless to stop it. He could’ve kept fighting for both of them. Or maybe that’s just what he kept telling himself to make it harder to escape the guilt.

He brought his left hand up to his chest. Found the steady beating with his palm. It was so easy now. His hand fit so nicely right there.

“I needed to have a transplant,” he admitted. It was so hard to continue. He felt like his lungs would collapse if he tried. So he didn’t. Maybe the class would understand anyway.

They didn’t. They all stood there in silence, waiting for him to go on. Their eyes felt so heavy, maybe they’d just collapse Katsuki’s lungs anyway.

After a minute or so, Kaminari spoke up.

“Man, is that it?” he asked. Were they wanting more? Well, in fairness, there was more…

“A heart transplant is a really hard thing to go through, Kaminari,” Jiro argued, poking at the boy with her earphone jack.

“It’s no wonder you’ve been extra off lately, Bakugo!” Mina chimed in, her eyebrows twisted with concern. “That’s a lot!”

The class joined in a bunch of chatter about, oh, wow, certain things make SO MUCH more sense now! I knew he didn’t use to be a crybaby! No wonder he’s been taking things extra easy! Makes sense why his chest has more scars now!

Katsuki hung his head lower, gritting his teeth.

“That’s… not… it.” he choked out. Getting the words out was like trying to dig himself out of a hole with no quirk and his stupid, busted-up arm.

They didn’t hear him at first, until Yaoyorozu noticed him looking the way he did, all angry and stuff, and shushed the rest of their classmates. They all shut up so fast when they also noticed the explosive blond’s demeanor.

“That’s not it,” he repeated, more sure of himself this time.

The tension in the room had returned. 

Oh no, if that’s not the bad part, then what is?

Katsuki forced himself to breathe. Tried to force the heart to calm, but to no avail. He should’ve known better at this point.

“It’s not about the transplant,” he continued, trying to channel Izuku’s and Inko’s resolve. Their ability to push through hard, emotional things, no matter how much they didn’t want to. He tightened his hold on his chest, like just maybe he could physically grab the heartbeat if he squeezed hard enough.“It’s about where the heart came from…”

He choked on the rest of the words he hadn’t even considered yet and pinched his lips together. He couldn’t stop from curling in on himself, ducking his head enough so no one could see the tears starting to slip down his cheeks. They could still hear the shaky cries and the shattered breathing. The room still went cold at the sight of Katsuki Bakugo so openly crying in front of all of them.

Uraraka was the first to catch on, even if it was still after a long while.

She launched herself at Katsuki. One moment he was sucking in air, trying to stop the onslaught of tears. The next, Ochaco Uraraka’s arms were wrapping around him, forcing him to sit up in her hold.

“I’m so sorry!” she sobbed. Her grip was so tight, Katsuki didn’t know what to do with himself. “If I’d known, I never would’ve said—”

Her words were drowned out by a wet sob as she buried her head in the crook of Katsuki’s neck. He knew what she meant.

“We just have to make sure even more now to keep him with us. In here…”

Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t a hugger. He never had been. 

But he removed his left hand from his chest and pulled Uraraka in even more. Her hand found its way there by itself, like she was absent-mindedly seeking out Izuku’s heartbeat. And the two of them sobbed in each other’s arms. It was comforting, it seemed, for all three of them.

Slowly but surely, the rest of the class started putting the pieces together as well. Katsuki was sure he’d be blamed. They’d call him a monster, a thief, an asshole incapable of love. Heartless.

But instead, he was overwhelmingly bombarded by them… seeking out his comfort and his touch.

“Please, Bakugo! Can I feel, too!”

“Just a moment, I swear! Then I’ll leave you alone!”

“I know you’re not one for hugs, but just this once? Please?”

The class rep had to corral them all back into order. Katsuki’s eyes had turned red and puffy and the tears had left noticeable stains on his cheeks. He was afraid Izuku’s heart might burst with the onslaught they’d just faced from their classmates. They all apologized profusely when they noticed his disheveled state.

But a look of longing still remained in their eyes. A feeling they’d all probably been pushing down this whole time. They couldn’t be seen as weak, right?

But…

Was it really weakness if they all felt the same?

And so, Katsuki let them.

He let them wrap their arms around him, seeking out their classmate’s heartbeat. Press their palms or their chests or their ears to Katsuki’s chest, trying to find that same remnant that Katsuki had been searching for all this time. And he let them. He wanted them to. If only to see the looks of relief on their faces when they realized there was still a part of him left. He realized that seeing them that way made him feel like the hole in his chest was starting to patch itself up. He realized that this was the feeling Izuku was always chasing. And he wanted to keep chasing it, too.

He stayed up so long with his classmates, wearing himself out to the point where Iida ordered them all to their own rooms to get some rest and to leave Katsuki alone.

But Katsuki couldn’t rest, not when his heart was racing like this.

He stayed on the sofa until everyone retired.

All Might finally came to visit that night. Katsuki couldn’t say what might’ve compelled the man to, but he did.

The tall man peeked his head in through the front doors. His head whipped around, like he was searching for something. When his eyes landed on Katsuki, who had been staring at him the whole while, they seemed to light up. He quickly rushed in, shutting the door as quietly as he could behind him. Katsuki made a move to stand and meet him halfway, but the old man held up a hand and shook his head.

“It’s okay, young Bakugo. Don’t exert yourself more than you need to.”

Katsuki furrowed his brows, just slightly. Was the hero implying that simply standing from a couch would be too much for Katsuki to handle?

No. He had to stop thinking that way.

All Might limped over and took up residence on a cushion right by Katsuki. His eyes looked the same as Auntie’s did, when Katsuki first visited her. They were locked somewhere in the distance, as if searching for something they’d never find.

Katsuki turned from the man to peer off into the darkness as well. What was he here for? Just company? Or something else? Katsuki found that he really didn’t care. He had things he’d been wanting to discuss with the old man. And he was finally realizing that opening up… may not lead to the horrible things he thought it would.

“Do you…” he asked quietly, “miss him?”

All Might took a moment to respond. His chest heaved with a heavy breath. When he exhaled, he finally turned towards Katsuki.

“I only knew that kid for two years,” he said. “And yet, I miss him more than I ever thought I could miss someone.”

Katsuki nodded slowly. He understood. Izuku was magnetic. It was hard not to get attached to him and his presence. His absence was so… difficult to manage, it seemed.

“Young Midoriya did more than I ever asked of him,” the man continued. “Not only did he save everyone he wanted to, he saved me. From myself. And everybody thought that was impossible.”

Katsuki snickered hollowly.

“Yeah. He tends to do that.”

All Might chuckled, too.

“I just don’t know how I’m ever going to get to repay him now.”

The pounding in Katsuki’s chest became evident again. Izuku never cared about “repaying” people, did he? But he couldn’t stand to see them in pain because of him.

And so…

“You gave him a quirk,” Katsuki assured, his tone even. “You gave him his dream. Even if it wasn’t long enough, it’s more than he ever thought he’d get. Plus, you gave yourself to him. If five-year-old Izuku ever knew about the relationship you two have, he would’ve passed out, like, seventeen times before denying it completely. You were his hero, All Might. Wherever he is, he’s probably beating himself up because he never got the chance to repay you in a way he thought he should.”

All Might chuckled. He settled a sturdy hand on Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Thank you, young man.”

His hold on Katsuki tightened. The boy could tell that All Might sought more comfort, but was too afraid to ask. Before Katsuki could offer, the man was procuring a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket.

“Right, I forgot what I came here for,” he muttered to himself as he unfolded the paper. Katsuki’s curiosity was piqued.

“Mrs. Midoriya received this from the hospital,” he explained, flattening the creases of the parchment. “It’s an official record. Of… time of death…”

Katsuki’s gut sank. The paper in All Might’s hand held the exact minute he lost Izuku forever? Could he bear to know?

But the man continued.

“And also… young Midoriya’s last words.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened. Suddenly, the information on that paper was the most crucial information in the world. He had to know it. He had to know what Izuku’s last thoughts were. He had to know what was going through his head. If he knew Izuku’s last words, he’d be able to figure it out. He’d be able to know if Izuku was able to shut his eyes peacefully in that operation room.

“Apparently he had some words to share before he went under for the operation,” All Might explained further, the paper creasing under his tight hold. “The nurses were forward-thinking enough to record it, for our sakes. Mrs. Midoriya and myself have seen them, but we thought you should be the first to know otherwise.”

With that, he held the paper out for Katsuki. The boy’s eyes wobbled as he stared at it like it held the secrets of the universe. Honestly, it might as well have.

Then he took it.

His eyes glazed over all the unimportant stuff. He was just desperate to know what Izuku had said.

When he read the words, he heard them in Izuku’s voice.

And he remembered.

His mind flashed back to that operation room. It was blurry. It was through Katsuki’s eyes this time.

“Ka— cchan…”

That was when Katsuki had found the strength to tear his eyes open.

“Kacchan…”

The word bounced around inside Katsuki’s brain. There were so many sounds in that room. So many things to shift his focus, and yet…

“Kacchan—”

Izuku’s voice was so weak. 

When Katsuki’s eyes finally opened all the way, everything was blurry, but he could make out the mess of green curls. The bandages covering half of Izuku’s head and half of his freckles. He missed them, he realized. He wanted to sit up and count them, just to make sure they were all still there. Or maybe that was just the pain meds in Katsuki’s system working.

Two different cadences of beeps echoed through the room. One was steady and unrelenting. The other matched the pace of Katsuki’s heartbeat in his skull.

And oh. He realized he was dying. 

Izuku was trying to wake him up, to get him to fight, probably.

No. That wasn’t it, was it?

“I’m sorry… Ka—cchan,” Izuku choked out. His uncovered eye was stubbornly caught on Katsuki’s gaze. He lifted a heavily-bandaged arm over the rail of his bed.

Katsuki tried to lift his own arm to meet it, but he couldn’t feel his right arm at all. He pointlessly strained, trying to lift it from the bed.

“Kacchan?” Izuku whimpered. Why did he sound so sad? Katsuki looked back towards him.

Tears were pouring from his eyes. They always did, but these tears were different. Katsuki wanted to reach forward and wipe them from Izuku’s face, but he couldn’t control his numb limbs.

Izuku’s breath hitched. His arm trembled. He looked scared. Katsuki knew too well what Izuku looked like when he was scared.

“I— I—”

There was hesitation in his voice. Or was he just struggling to speak?

His arm was full of tremors now, but Katsuki couldn’t do anything but helplessly stare.

“Kacchan—”

Katsuki’s eyes were starting to become heavy again. But Izuku was talking to him. He had to listen to Izuku. He had to—

“I love you.”

If he wasn’t already, Katsuki would’ve gone dumb.

Izuku’s gaze was so intense. So genuine.

Izuku… loves me?

But then, without hesitation, Katsuki realized… 

He loved Izuku, too.

He had to tell him. There was a pit developing in his gut, warning him that he wouldn’t get another chance, which was silly. They were in the hospital. The doctors would make them both better. And then he could tell Izuku.

But, no. He wanted to tell Izuku right now. He tried prying his mouth open. He tried lifting his arm from the bed again. He tried forcing the words out.

Izuku… I love you, too.

But the messy green hair atop the boy's head started splitting into two images. Katsuki’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. The effort of trying to speak was exhausting him. But the look in Izuku’s eye was so desperate. He had to know that Katsuki—

The memory ended when he passed out. Katsuki realized he had gone stiff, staring at the words on the paper. 

“Kacchan. I love you.”

Katsuki had been there. He’d been awake for it. Izuku was right there next to him to say goodbye to. And still he couldn’t do anything but lie there and stare at him.

He had to know, right? Izuku had to know that Katsuki felt the same? He conjured up the Izuku he’d dreamed about.

“I know…”

Was that true, or was that just wishful thinking?

He watched tears splatter across the page. The edge was crinkling in Katsuki’s grip.

I was the last thing Izuku thought about?

All Might pulled Katsuki in, and the boy buried his head in his chest, again not caring about wetting the man’s shirt with his snot and tears. All Might indulged him. He held his strong hand on the back of Katsuki’s head and pressed him in closer. No words were exchanged between them. They didn’t need to be.

The image of Izuku’s desperate look replayed in Katsuki’s head. His bandaged head. The casts on his arms. He was worse than even Katsuki had imagined him to be.

And still, his last concern was apologizing to Katsuki and—

He sucked in a broken breath, gasping for air like he was drowning in his own tears.

Izuku said he loves me…

Katsuki nuzzled his nose into the cloth of All Might’s shirt. The man ruffled his ashy blond hair.

Ba-dump… Ba-dump… Ba-dump…

The paper crumpled even more in Katsuki’s hand.

Izuku loves me…

____________________

Izuku’s grave was a humble one, because what else would it be? Izuku was never one to show off, not like Katsuki always was.

Izuku Midoriya

Beloved son.

Beloved friend.

Beloved hero.

The greatest hero there ever would be. Katsuki wished he could take a knife and carve that into the stone instead. Anyone who came here had to know that they wouldn’t be here if this grave wasn’t.

Katsuki knelt down in front of it, sliding the bag off his shoulder and setting it onto the ground. Somewhere outside the cemetery, Aizawa must’ve been watching him. Or perhaps the teacher respected Katsuki’s privacy. Who knows.

“I brought you some things,” Katsuki said, and opened up the bag. 

He lifted out all the figures from Izuku’s room that he could physically carry in the bag, and set them down with care all around the base of the grave, which was already drowning in flowers and offered food.

“I figured you’d want them instead of just letting them gather dust on your desk,” Katsuki said. “I’m keeping your blankets, though. And all your stupid journals.”

The grave didn’t respond. Did Katsuki really expect it to? Honestly he kind of did. He kind of expected Izuku to appear to him so they could have an actual conversation. The nerd was always begging for those.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“I guess I should say ‘thank you’,” Katsuki continued. “But honestly, I still think you’re a selfish bastard for this. I think part of me always will. We were supposed to be heroes together. We were supposed to keep chasing each other for the rest of our lives.”

Images of Katsuki and Izuku topping each other over and over again on the hero charts were conjured in Katsuki’s head. Them rescuing people together. Fighting villains all while fighting each other for the throne. Going to stupid fan meet-and-greets because Izuku kept insisting, and who was Katsuki to tell him no?

“But you had to go and get killed by a stupid villain,” Katsuki’s voice broke, but he smiled. “I’ll always hate you for that. You know that, right?”

He laughed. A broken laugh. A wet laugh that could’ve turned into tears had Katsuki not held them back for Izuku’s sake.

Izuku’s desperate gaze flashed through Katsuki’s mind again. His tears.

“I love you.”

If anything else, Izuku had to know. He’d never be able to rest until he did.

Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum—

“I… love you, too… Izuku.”

Katsuki’s breath hitched. He could no longer look directly at the grave in front of him. At Izuku’s name.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to tell you in that room. You needed to know, and I needed to tell you. I should’ve been able to find the strength. Then you could’ve fallen asleep in peace.”

“I know…”

Maybe Izuku had known. Maybe after Katsuki passed out, Izuku had given him a stupid smile before the drugs knocked him out, too. But still, Izuku needed to hear it from Katsuki’s lips. He deserved that much. He deserved more than that, actually.

Katsuki pushed on. There was so much more that Izuku needed to hear.

“I don’t have any control over your heart,” he admitted. He clutched his left hand over his chest. “I’ve been trying, but it’s so much, Izuku…”

He lifted his hand off his chest, and curled it into a fist. Memories of the past few weeks floated through his mind. The constant tears that seemed to flood his eyes. Him seeking out comfort from Uraraka and the rest of their classmates. The warmth that flooded him when he was embraced by Auntie and by All Might. The katsudon.

He took a deep breath. The pounding calmed down. He smiled.

“But just watch,” he said. “You’ll see…”

He looked up at the grave. He wished they could’ve engraved a dorky smile onto it. Or four freckles on either side. It’d be easier for him to imagine that it was Izuku that way.

“I’ll make this borrowed heart my own.” His voice had that same determination and defiance in it that Izuku’s and Auntie’s did. “And when I do…”

He flashed back to Izuku’s trembling arm as he held it out to Katsuki. Katsuki lifted his fist forward and planted it on the grave.

Ba-dump… Ba-dump… Ba-dump…

“We’ll save everyone…”