Chapter Text
Izuku stares at the words printed on his right wrist. They wrap around it, beginning and ending in the perfect little circle.
Oh wow, are you okay?
Izuku grins happily as reads and rereads the little letters. They’re written with script that’s barely eligible. His mother told him it was because his soulmate was probably his age. She had informed him that the handwriting would change as his soulmate grew and learned better calligraphy.
Izuku was five when his mark had appeared, slowly blotting his skin. It was later than usual, but Izuku couldn’t be happier. The doctor had lied to him, saying that if his soul mark hadn’t arrived already, there was almost no chance it would manifest. But, it had come. Late, but it was there.
As he laid there on his bed on the night his soul mark came, he vowed to himself, that when he finds his soulmate, he would love and cherish them forever, no matter what. He fell asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in a while.
When he arrived to school the next day, he couldn’t help but be nervous. His soul mark itched, and he scratched at it lightly, hoping for some little distraction. It was hard, especially when he entered the classroom and spotted Katsuki, sitting with his feel up on his desk like he owned the place. There was a gaggle of his classmates around him as he spoke, all seeming to be hooked on whatever he was saying.
Izuku walked towards his desk, which was, thankfully, not near Katsuki’s. But, none of that even mattered because once he sat down, a small hand was slapped onto his desk. Izuku looked up into the eyes of Katsuki, which was narrowed ruby red. Izuku smiled half-heartedly. “K-Kacchan-“
“How was your weekend, Deku,” Katsuki interrupted, smirking at him. Izuku bristled at the nickname. Katsuki had given him the nickname shortly after he found out Izuku didn’t and wouldn’t have a soul mark. “It makes sense, Deku, ‘cause you’re so worthless you don’t even have soulmate,” he had explained, laughing cruelly at Izuku.
“It was okay, Kacchan,” Izuku murmured. He moved his right hand off the table, hoping that Katsuki wouldn’t see his soul mark. He just knew Kacchan would make fun of it, make fun of him and his soulmate. It wasn’t worth it.
But Katsuki’s eyes flashed, grabbing Izuku’s hand. Izuku gasped at the sudden movement while Katsuki stared at the script on Izuku’s hand. His eyes widened comically and his eyebrows rose as he realized just what was on Izuku’s wrist.
Katsuki looked back out Izuku, a sudden glare overtaking his face. Izuku realized that Katsuki wasn’t playing anymore. Now he seemed really and truly angry.
“What is this Deku? Did you get so sad over that you don’t have a soulmate that you wrote this on your arm? Stupid Deku, you don’t have a soulmate,” Katsuki berated, and then he laughed, harsh and cold. Izuku felt the pinpricks in his eyes, the tell-tale sign that if Izuku didn’t get a hold of himself, right now, Katsuki would have even more material to joke about.
Izuku suddenly jerked his hand out of Katsuki’s, standing up as well, glaring straight into Katsuki’s eyes. They were wide again, staring at Izuku, for once saying nothing. Izuku took that as his chance.
“No, Kacchan, this is real. This is my soulmate. I have one, and I’m not worthless,” he retorted, voice rising steadily. To prove his point, he stuck a finger in his mouth and began rubbing vigorously on his soul mark. The mark held out strong, unlike what ink from a pen would do. Izuku watched as Katsuki stared at his wrist.
Just as Izuku was going to continue, riding on this wave of adrenaline, the teacher walked in. She looked at both Izuku and Katsuki and sighed. “To your seats, now,” she ordered.
Izuku sat down, but Katsuki stayed standing. Izuku stared at him. Katsuki seemed to be in his own world, eyes flitting around, mouth shut as he thought. And then he turned around and walked away from Izuku, sitting down in his seat, arms on his desk. Izuku couldn’t help but think he won that battle. Maybe now things would change now that Izuku had a soulmate out there.
It didn’t get better, not really. Izuku was still picked on, still the classroom freak. Nothing changed. Katsuki still tormented him, still called him Deku. But now, he knew that Katsuki was wrong. He knew there was someone out there for him, someone who would take away his pain, treat him with kindness, and love him.
Elementary school passed. The writing on his arm changed drastically, growing more and more legible with each passing week, month, and year. Now, it was more cursive, little loopy letters. Izuku adored them so much.
Middle school brought so many changes. He met new students, had a fresh class. Katsuki was still in it, but after the summer of sixth grade, he had come back more subdued. There was still the fire in his eyes, still the arrogance, but…
It was the first week back from school. Izuku was scribbling in his notebook, lunch on his desk beside him, drawing random shapes and people. It was a skill he discovered last year in art. Now, he drew whenever he could. It was fun, helped keep him engaged instead of bored out of his mind, and he was good at it.
He was drawing a rather misshapen eye when a sudden shadow fell over him. Izuku looked up to see Katsuki staring at the doodles. Izuku felt fear grip his heart. What would Katsuki do to his sketchbook? Take it? Rip it up? Throw it in the trash?
He grabbed it from Izuku’s grasp, and flipped the pages. Izuku was just about to say something, when Katsuki placed the book back onto his desk.
“Deku,” Katsuki started. “Yes, Kacchan?” Izuku murmured, staring at him with wide, green eyes, waiting for the teasing remarks. Instead Katsuki’s shoulders slumped slightly.
“I-I just want to say I feel bad about the shit I used to say about you and your soul mark,” Katsuki muttered, staring down at the floor instead of at Izuku.
Izuku felt his heart stutter a beat. Was…was Katsuki apologizing? To Izuku?
The blonde didn’t wait for a response. He looked back up at Izuku and for a flash, Izuku saw raw sadness in those eyes before he turned around and walked back to his seat and friends.
Izuku watched him with wide eyes, feeling out of place. Was he in the right school? Was that really Katsuki? The same Katsuki who never said sorry in his damn life. Well, when Izuku thought about it, Kacchan sure didn’t say the word ‘sorry’ but Izuku felt it was strongly insinuated.
He clutched the pencil in his hand again, trying to push the thoughts and questions out of his head as he began to doodle again.
Later, going through his sketchbook, Izuku blushed as he realized just what he ended up drawing messily. A sketch of Kacchan stared back at him, eyes narrowed, eyebrows crunched, mouth set in a frown.
Izuku felt the need to rip out the page rise quickly but he squashed it down just as fast. It was one little sketch.
Izuku couldn’t help but study Katsuki more after that. He was still loud, stupidly arrogant, and mean. Every day, he made at least one comment on how he’d kill everyone in their class. But, Katsuki also didn’t bother Izuku. Like, at all. It was like Izuku was a stranger to Katsuki. He didn’t even look his way.
Izuku also noticed something vaguely strange. He wore long sleeves every day, all the time. Sure it was part of the uniform, but he never took the jacket off at all, even walking home. Something that was also peculiar was the subject of his soul mark Katsuki used to brag so much over it all the time in Elementary school, saying he had the best soulmate ever and that his soulmate would kick everyone else’s soulmates in the ass. He would proudly parade around, showing everyone what was on his wrist, saying that his words were the best in the world, and nobody’s could match.
But now, Katsuki barely spoke of his soulmate and never showed off his soul mark.
It was near the end of the school year, their last year of middle school, when their teacher had droned out, “You all have a project. Pick a partner and come tell me your topic. It has to be about something we covered this year. I’ll give you and your partner a rubric when you tell me your idea. This is worth 40% of your final. Choose wisely.”
Izuku felt fear grip him, anxiety curling in his stomach. Oh, how he hated group projects. Sure he had one or two peers he spoke to, but those peers had better friends. He’s fucked. He’ll have to work on a project with someone he barely knows, someone who won’t do any work, someone who-
“Oi!” Someone all but shouted. Izuku startled out of his thoughts, glancing over toward the voice and finding Katsuki staring back at him.
“Ka-Kacchan, wha-“
“We’re working together, Deku,” he stated simply, staring at him with an expression that screamed ‘try me, I dare you!’ Izuku thought about it for a moment. Sadly, Katsuki was the most familiar person Izuku knew, and he was in the top of the class, so Izuku knew he wouldn’t slack. But, why him? He asked as much.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, “You’re the only other person in this class that’s not a complete imbecile. I’d rather work with you,” Katsuki explained. Izuku’s eyes widened in shock. Did Katsuki really just…compliment him?
“Don’t look at me like that. Come on,” Katsuki groaned, grabbing Izuku’s wrist and dragging him up to the teacher’s desk. Izuku tried desperately not to think about the warm touch right above his soul mark. Their teacher looked at both of them, boredom prevalent in his eyes, “What are you doing?”
Izuku had a flash of panic (we didn’t agree on anything, Kacchan!!) before Katsuki smoothly replied with, “the Meiji Restoration.” The teacher nodded before handing them the rubric. “Here you go. Good luck. You have two class days to work on it and the weekend. Presentations start Monday.”
Izuku felt weird. He’s had a really weird day. Not only has Katsuki started talking to him after over two years of silence, but he had ended up inviting Izuku to his home to work on the project. The project itself, they planned out in class. They would create a PowerPoint of the short term and long term effects that the Meiji Restoration had on culture, politics, and society as well as a short comic that explained the history of the Meiji Restoration. The rubric had said to create something that children could understand. A story in comic form would be easy enough, especially with Izuku’s art skills.
They would create an outline of the story to put in the comic at Katsuki’s house as well as start on the PowerPoint. They both decided to focus on half of the project, Katsuki with the PowerPoint and Izuku with the comic. But tonight, they would do more brainstorming.
It was nerve-wracking, just thinking about it. Izuku hasn’t been in Katsuki’s home in over eight years. He wondered how much has changed in his home.
His mother was ecstatic when he told her the plans. She praised him in the fact that they seemed to rekindle their friendship. Izuku tried to explain that it was only for a project but she wouldn’t have it. At fifteen till four, she shooed Izuku out the door with a casual, “Have fun!”
Izuku stared at the familiar home in front of him. It looked just as similar as the houses next to and across from it, but it brought back so many memories.
Memories where Izuku and Katsuki played chase in the front lawn, Katsuki always being able to reach him, but Izuku never caring; memories where Izuku slept over Katsuki’s home, giggling in his room over stupid nonsense that only four year old would laugh about; memories of Katsuki pushing Izuku, laughing at the wounded look in Izuku’s eyes. A memory of being laughed at, a memory of not being in on the joke, a memory of running home, crying, promising himself he would never step foot in Katsuki’s home again.
But, here he was, so close to breaking that self promise. Just as he stepped onto the small porch area, the door opened to Katsuki’s mother, Mitsuki Bakugo, opened the door, eyes widening at the sight of the green haired boy in front of her.
“Izuku!” she all but shrieked, jumping outside and pulling him into a fierce hug. Izuku sputtered against her.
“M-Mrs. Bakugo,” Izuku stuttered. Mitsuki unwrapped her arms from around Izuku, holding him at an arm’s length. She began to look him over from head to toe. “Izuku! Oh, how you’ve grown!” she cheered, grinning at the boy. Izuku felt a flush of embarrassment settle in his chest. “Uh…thanks, Mrs. Bakugo,” he replied. He forgot what a wild spirit Katsuki’s mother was.
“Please, sweetheart, call me Mitsuki. I thought we established this when you were younger,” Mitsuki admonished, wrapping an arm around Izuku’s shoulders and guiding him inside. Izuku took off his shoes and entered the threshold of the home. Mistsuki followed him, guiding him toward the small living room. Not that Izuku had forgotten the path. It was easy to remember the long buried memories of this home.
“Katsuki! Shithead! Your friend is here!” Mitsuki yelled from the couch, before smiling at Izuku. “Do you want anything to drink? Tea? Juice?” Mitsuki asked. Izuku felt a bit uncomfortable under her red eyes. He hadn’t spoken to this woman in years, and yet she’s acting as if he’s been gone a week.
“Just water is fine, thank you,” Izuku said. Mitsuki nodded, and headed toward the kitchen. Just then, there was a pounding down the stairs and Katsuki was on the other side. Izuku swallowed as he saw Katsuki in his house wear: a long sleeve shirt, with some obscure logo of a superhero from an American series and a pair of gray sweatpants.
“Kacchan,” Izuku greeted and he couldn’t help the smile that was tacked on his face. Katsuki stared at him for moment, surveying him just as his mother had minutes ago. Izuku felt a shiver creep up his back.
Katsuki tsked, “C’mon Deku, we got shit to do,” he said, already turning around to go back up the stairs. Izuku stood up, not knowing what to do, “but, but your mom is-“
“Forget that old hag,” is all Katsuki said. Well…
Izuku speed walked up the stairs, following Katsuki to his room. It didn’t hit him that he would be alone with Katsuki until the door to his room closed behind Izuku.
The room was startling the same. It was a bright red, with posters flung on the walls at random spots. There was a laptop on a table pushed to one side of the room and a twin bed on the other side. A window was placed by the bed and Izuku knew it oversaw the street below.
An awkward silence filled the air as Izuku surveyed the room, before his eyes fell back to Katsuki. Who was staring at Izuku. Izuku flushed and looked down, before reaching for his bag.
“Uhm, where can I sit?” Izuku asked, looking back to Katsuki.
He was rubbing his head, looking around, “Uh, my bed,” he answered, the statement almost sounding like a question itself.
Izuku felt his ears grow red, but he ignored it, inside moving to sit on the twin. He placed his backpack in his lap and pulled out his sketchbook and notebook, as well as a pencil.
By the time he got out everything, Katsuki was sitting on the chair by the table. They were close, only a feet or two apart, the space between them small.
“So I was thinking of having a time traveler-,“ Izuku started, but Katsuki snorted, “No, next.”
“Wait, what? Why not?” Izuku gaped. Katsuki didn’t even hear his whole idea before shutting it down. Katsuki sighed loudly, seeming annoyed, “Because, stupid Deku, a time traveler is fucking lame. It’s not unique at all. ‘Oh have to write a story about the past? Let’s Back to the Future it.’ let’s fucking do something unique,” Katsuki said roughly. Izuku stared at him with wide eyes, gears turning in his head.
“O-Okay, I guess,” Izuku muttered, looking back down at the paper in front of him. He had a couple of other ideas, but the time traveler one was his favorite. He sighed and was about to cross it out when a noise from Katsuki alerted him. It sounded like a mix between a growl and sigh. Izuku looked up to see Katsuki looking away, toward his laptop.
“Fine, shitty Deku,” Katsuki muttered. Izuku was bewildered.
“What?” he asked, confusion muddling his tone. Katsuki didn’t look back as he answered, “Let’s do your fucking time traveler bullshit.”
Izuku felt shock. Katsuki had never done this, waver under someone else. At least, not to Izuku.
“Really?” Izuku said, and he couldn’t help the clear happiness shine in his tone, nor could he stop the grin from spreading on his face.
Katsuki looked back to Izuku, eyebrows twitching, “Yes, Deku. Don’t fuck up or it’s my foot connecting to your ass,” he threatened.
“O-of course!” Izuku replied.
They had swapped houses every night after. It was…tense in the beginning. Working in quiet silence was nerve wracking, especially to Izuku. That’s why the day after, when Katsuki arrived to the Midoriya residence (and after Izuku’s mother had finished pinching Katsuki’s cheeks and asking how his day had been) Izuku timidly played some of his music as they worked. At first, Katsuki had looked up from his own laptop, scrunching his nose at the music, before looking at Izuku for explanation.
Izuku shrugged, smiling nervously, ‘Music helps me draw,” he explained. He was expecting some retort, a bullying remark, but Katsuki just nodded and continued working.
Izuku couldn’t help but stare at Katsuki, eyebrows raised in disbelief. Maybe the Katsuki from elementary school has been put to rest.
(Izuku couldn’t help but smile and blush when Katsuki began playing music in his room the evening after.
his soul mark burned on his wrist)
They passed, obviously. Katsuki presented the PowerPoint flawlessly, barely even looking at the screen behind him. Izuku waited by his side, handmade comic book in his hands. He was shaking slightly, just at the thought of present his hard work to the class, to be judged and graded. Kacchan had done so well on his part, Izuku just hoped his would be just as great.
When Katsuki finished his presentation, everyone turned toward Izuku, waiting for his part.
Izuku cleared his throat and moved toward the center of the class, and with a flourish, showed the class his possession.
‘F-for my p-part of the a-assi-assignment-,” Izuku stopped suddenly, breathing in once before starting again. “For my- my part of the assignment I h-ha,-“ and then he felt a warm hand settle on the back of his uniform and felt the nervousness disappear, and instead a warm light took its place. Katsuki was standing next to him, by his side.
Izuku smiled and started again, and never once stuttered.
After the project, things shifted. With only two months left of school, even the teacher has grown less and less strict, and with that, Katsuki was able to scare the poor kid who sat next to Izuku to switching with him. Now Katsuki sat next to him, mostly quiet.
The conversation of entrance exams come up more and more, especially since they’re so close. Katsuki boasts over how he has studied all year for U.A Academy’s entrance exams.
“I’ll be the only one to be accepted into that school in this whole class,” Katsuki boasted one day, speaking languidly with his feet propped up on the desk in front of him. It wasn’t it secret that Katsuki was probably the only kid in their grade to be testing for U.A and with a chance. But what was a secret was…
“I’m taking the exam as well,” Izuku muttered, mostly to himself. He was barely paying attention to the conversation, mostly just doodling.
But, Katsuki heard it, of course he did.
“Hahhh?” he uttered, staring directly at Izuku. Izuku sighed and looked at Katsuki, smiling timidly. No matter how Katsuki acted towards him, Izuku always felt one word would flip the switch and Katsuki would be back to snarling at him.
“I’m taking the exam as well,” Izuku repeated, this time clearly and louder. Katsuki stared at him, teeth bared as his eyebrow ticked. Has the flip switched?
“Fine, let the best man win,” Katsuki grinned roguishly, sticking out his hand towards Izuku. Izuku looked at the hand for a moment before slipping his in Katsuki’s. There was absolutely, positively, no spark that Izuku felt travel through his entire mainframe.
(that night, he stared the hand that touched Kacchan’s in confusion, in wonder. what was he feeling?)
(his wrist was forgotten for the moment)
He walked to the building where the U.A exams would take place with Katsuki. He walked slowly, confidently, while Izuku muttered to himself over facts and English and Science and Math, and-
He tripped.
Just before he fell crashing to the floor, a hand grabbed him and heaved him up. Izuku spluttered in embarrassment as Katsuki watched him with faint amusement in his eyes.
“I-wow.” Izuku didn’t really know how to respond. Katsuki rolled his eyes and put his arm around Izuku’s shoulder’s, and continued walking toward the entrance of the building.
(neither really knew about the consequences that action had caused. just a second later a pretty, brunette rushed by the place izuku and katsuki had just been. and just like that fate changed)
It wasn’t even Izuku who noticed the change. It was his mom. Izuku was washing the dishes with her, talking about the exam when Inko suddenly gasped, the plate in her hand falling into sudsy water. She turned toward Izuku and grabbed his hand, looking at the writing. Izuku looked at it confused, until he saw exactly what had caused his mother the panic.
His soul mark had effectively changed, and just in a miniscule way like the handwriting. The entire phrase was different.
Is this yours?
It was short enough that it just wrapped partly around his wrist this time. Izuku frowned at the change.
“What happened?” Izuku asked his mom. Inko was biting her lips, staring at the mark, before she shook her head and looked at Izuku sadly.
“You seemed to have defied fate,” she said. Izuku frowned, looking back at the mark. “What do you mean?”
“I mean-,” Inko started, smothering his hair and going back to washing the dishes, “you missed your chance to meet your soulmate. Thus, it changed for your next meeting,” Inko explained.
“Really? That means that I…I should have met them today, huh. That’s weird. Nothing out of the normal happened,” Izuku muttered.
Inko laughed airily, “Of course it seemed normal now, and maybe it wasn’t even your fault, but something happened that Fate didn’t take in account for,” she replied.
Truthfully, Izuku should have felt…more? More happiness, maybe, at being so close to his soulmate; more panic, at the fact that he let them slip through his fingers; more anxiety, over the fact that he’d have to wait longer.
But, really, all Izuku could think about was Kacchan.
(in his thoughts, all he could think about how easier it would have been with Katsuki as his soulmate)
Izuku showed Katsuki the change in his soul mark. Izuku thought Katsuki would be intrigued, or curious, in the change, but Izuku didn’t expect the raw and unfiltered sadness that crept onto his face.
“Kacchan?” Izuku said, feeling concerned over his friend. Katsuki looked away grabbing at both his wrists.
“Kacchan, why are you upset?” Izuku asked. Katsuki whirled around, glaring daggers at Izuku.
“What do you know, stupid Deku,” Katsuki growled, and the way he said it, the pure rage in his voice, caused Izuku to flinch.
“Wha-“
“You know what, Deku? You can fucking take your stupid soul mark and shove it up your ass,” Katsuki muttered, staring at Izuku with fire in his molten eyes.
Izuku knew he should go. He knew he should let Katsuki stew. Was he right? Was this the switch? Are they back to hating each other?
But before Izuku could get up, he placed a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki growled lowly, not unlike an animal being cornered. And then, Izuku realized, it wasn’t anger, it was fear that had engulfed Katsuki.
Izuku pulled Katsuki into a hug, Katsuki’s head resting on Izuku’s shoulder.
“What are you so scared of?”
And then Katsuki pushed Izuku back, glaring at him harshly. Now, this, this was rage, Izuku though.
“GET THE FUCK OUT MY FUCKING ROOM!” Katsuki screamed, and Izuku jumped off his bed, staring at him.
“Please…Kacchan. I just want to help,” Izuku stated softly. Katsuki stared at him, bewilderment overtaking his expression for a moment before his eyes narrowed again.
“I don’t want your fucking help. I never wanted your help, shitty Deku. Get out of my room and leave me alone.” Katsuki muttered the last part, already turning away from Izuku. Izuku thought, it was his perfect chance. He could leave, leave this kid that has anger issues and won’t share any of his troubles. He can leave,
or he can stay.
“Kacchan,” Izuku began steadily. He grasped Kacchan’s left wrist, turning him back to Izuku. Katsuki stared at him, anger reduced to smithereens as Izuku smiled calmly towards him.
“I’m sorry for making you mad before, but please, I want to know what’s wrong,” Izuku finished, staring in Katsuki’s eyes, his own emerald orbs holding the gaze.
“I-I-I can’t tell you,” Katsuki finally uttered, voice breaking as he bit his bottom lip. Izuku shook his head, “You can tell me anything Kacchan. I’m here for you, okay? I’m your friend.”
Katsuki suddenly looked down and stepped away, jerking his hand back from Izuku. Izuku waited with baited breath. Katsuki began to scratch at his right wrist, right where his soul mark would be. Katsuki sighed, before looking right into Izuku’s eyes before pulling his sleeve up.
Izuku gasped.
His skin was bare. There was no writing. That could only mean one thing.
“Oh, Kacchan,” Izuku mumbled, and enveloped his arms around Katsuki. Katsuki stumbled back but didn’t fall. He wrapped his hands around Izuku’s back and waist.
“I-I’m so sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku cried, tears falling freely from his face. It was the most dreaded thing that could happen. Katsuki’s soulmate had died.
“Why are you apologizing?” Katsuki muttered. Izuku sniffled.
“I-I don’t know. I’m sorry Fate’s such a bitch,” Izuku mumbled. Katsuki laughed against, and Izuku shook from it. It was dry, but it was something.
Izuku unraveled from Katsuki, and stared at him with bleary eyes, “I shouldn’t have pried like that.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, “I should have expected it sometime soon. You can’t keep your nose out of shit,” the blonde retorted. Now it was Izuku’s turn to laugh.
“But…but I think it’ll be okay,” Katsuki said, and Izuku gazed up at him, wiping away the tears from his face. Katsuki was looking at him, with a soft, miniscule smile, a twitch of his lips that warmed Izuku up, before saying, “Yeah…I think it’ll be alright.”
Izuku smiled up at him, as cheery as possible, “I’m glad you think so, Kacchan.”
And Katsuki looked to the side and Izuku pretended not to notice his blush.
Things moved on after that. They were both accepted into U.A. Izuku thought that, in an alternate universe, Katsuki would spit fire at just the notion. But, now, he just bragged over the fact that he and Izuku were the best in the class. Izuku smiled to himself. He and Kacchan won’t be separated now.
Katsuki began to wear short sleeves around Izuku, when they were alone. It didn’t seem like much, but to Izuku, it felt like Katsuki trusted him now. Trusted him in keeping his secret, trusted him in not judging his bare wrist.
Summer came and went quickly. Izuku felt him and Katsuki grew closer every day. Izuku couldn’t help but feel that the summer days were too long, too hot. They sat on the porch some days, staring blearily at the outside, heat scorching the pavement. They were both too tired to do much, especially in the heat.
Other times, near dusk, when it gets cooler, they would exercise together, or compete against each other. Mitsuki would watch them play volleyball in the lawn, laughing and jeering each other on. She kept score sometimes, and handed out warnings and fouls. Coincidentally, whenever Mitsuki would watch the game, Izuku won more games, if only for Mitsuki berating her son every chance she had.
One day, Izuku and Kacchan went to the beach. It was crowded, but bearable. They shimmied out of their shorts and jumped into the water, both sighing in relief. Katsuki wore a giant band on his right wrist. They both tackled each other in the water, wrestling.
Izuku laughed as he splashed water into Kacchan’s face, smirking when Katsuki spluttered and shook his face quickly. Then he looked back at Izuku, face full of anger, teeth bared. Izuku felt a thrum of something shake through him as Kacchan stared at him like that. And then Katsuki snapped at him and treaded through the water to get closer to Izuku.
Izuku screamed and rushed back to the shore, laughing as Katsuki gained in on him. Izuku made it to the beach and turned around to see Katsuki staring at him from the water, crimson eyes dead set on Izuku.
Izuku chuckled, “Come on, shark boy. Catch me if you can!” Izuku taunted. Katsuki waited one more moment, before barreling out of the water. Izuku gasped but before he knew it, Katsuki had jumped on him, forcing him to the sandy ground.
Izuku stared at Katsuki with wide eyes, shocked into silence. Katsuki grinned at him, and it was sharp and dark. “I won, Deku,” he stated with a twitch of an eyebrow.
Izuku was going to say a retort when he realized just what kind of position they were in. Both of their chests touched each other’s. Katsuki’s was so close; Izuku could see the water glistening in his hair, on his face, see the flecks of (yellow, gold) in his eyes. It was too much, too sudden. Izuku needed to get a grip.
“I-I,” Izuku stuttered. He couldn’t do much, under Kacchan like that. It was then that Katsuki realized just what type of position they were in. Izuku just saw the beginning of mottled red showing up on his cheeks before Katsuki scrambled off of Izuku.
Izuku stayed there for a moment, staring the white, wispy clouds above him, the sun warming him up in a different way than Katsuki’s body had.
And then, a hand was shoved in front of him. Izuku blinked, eyes following the arm to see Katsuki looking away, arm still outstretched. Izuku swallowed down the anxiety and took Katsuki’s hand. The touch burned something fierce in his core.
Izuku felt nervousness in his veins as he walked the steps with Katsuki into U.A Academy. It was their first day. He couldn’t help but be jittery. This is one of the best schools in Japan, so many classes geared toward so many different career choices. The school had hundreds of connections that can get students anywhere. It was a dream to be a first year here.
Katsuki walked next to him. They were both in class 1-A. Izuku couldn’t help but be excited about that. At least he would know one person. And that person was so special.
When they entered the classroom, there already were a couple people. Katsuki led the way and sat down in one of the seats toward the right, legs already setting themselves onto the desk. Izuku rolled his eyes and sat down on the seat behind Katsuki. Before Izuku could even set his things down, a tall, dark haired boy with glasses was already admonishing Katsuki over how disrespectful it was to lounge his feet on his desk.
“Oh come off it, what are you, my dad?” Katsuki replied and the bespectacled boy clicked his tongue in annoyance. He looked to Izuku, “Is this your friend?” he asked.
Izuku smiled at the boy, “Yeah, he’s just like that. Kacchan doesn’t care about the basics of social etiquette at all,” Izuku teased, shrugging his shoulders at the boy in front of him, “You might as well be talking to a wall. I’m Izuku Midoriya, by the way,” Izuku introduced himself.
“Tenya Lida,” the other teen replied, a bit stiffly. Izuku grinned at him. He kicked the back of Kacchan’s chair with his red sneakers. Katsuki glared at Izuku but sighed, looking at Tenya.
“Katsuki Bakugou,” he muttered. Izuku grinned widely at Katsuki, before looking back to Tenya.
“It’s nice to meet you, Iida,” Izuku said. Tenya nodded once, before turning away. Izuku saw him go chastise some more of his classmates.
Izuku turned back to Katsuki. “This is kind of exciting, meeting new people like this,” Izuku murmured to Katsuki. Kacchan shrugged, “I already hate them all,” he muttered. Izuku sputtered, “Kacchan!”
Katsuki laughed gruffly at the scandalous look on Izuku’s face, smirking. “They’re loud and annoying,” Katsuki explained. Izuku rolled his eyes, “Well, you’re loud and annoying too. Do I look like I hate you?” Izuku retorted, chuckling slightly.
“Whatever, fucking Deku,” Katsuki muttered. They both watched as more and more students entered the room. There seemed to be about 20 kids.
Izuku was tapping his pencil to the desk, thinking of how different these last years will be, thinking of Kacchan and how they’ll get closer. Izuku flicked his eyes to Katsuki, staring at his profile. Izuku thought of how cute Kacchan could be. Izuku suddenly gasped at the thought, and the pencil in his hand fell from his grasp to the floor.
Izuku looked down, looking for it, face flaming at the thoughts in his head. Did he really just think that? Call Kacchan cute? He had to be insane, it was the only way.
The pencil stopped right in front of a pair of brown shoes.
But was he really crazy? It was Kacchan, his only friend, his best friend. Kacchan, who made him feel special even when he was insulting Izuku.
A slender hand picked up the pencil.
Izuku thought about how Kacchan acted when they were alone. It was borderline sweet, letting Izuku win arguments, playing music, never bothering him when he drew.
Izuku looked up, and was met with the face of a pretty brunette who was smiling at Izuku, eyes sparkling.
No, it wasn’t crazy. Izuku…Izuku liked Kacchan.
“Is this yours?”
Izuku’s wrist burned.