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It’s been a week since the Aizawa, Mind-Fuck and Izuku were forced to turned into kids. No one knew exactly what had happened, but they knew it wasn’t something nice. Izuku was noticeably different. It was as if he no longer cared to play up that happy-go-lucky hero’s attitude of his.
“Hey Deku-kun, er-” Ururaka made a face to laugh off the mistake.
“It’s Izuku.” The other boy’s voice was tight and left no room anymore to seek redemption in half-assed apologies.
“Right, sorry.” Usually at this moment Izuku would wave away her discomfort and ask what she came over to ask. Sweeping it under the rug, but Katsuki was sure the rug didn’t touch the actual floor with how much that had been swept under. It hung pathetically on top of a high mountain of bullshit, and it was about time people stopped ignoring the problems it had long stopped hiding. “Um, Izuku-kun, did you want to go out after class? Tsuyu found this cute cafe on the other side of the district that sells keychains of heroes, but they’re cats.”
Katsuki knew the cafe. It wasn’t a cat-cafe because the owner was allergic. It was close to where they grew up. Izuku pulled a face which would have been held back before the teacher-conference. He probably knew of the place as well, considering they would run him out with a broom.
“No thank you.” Izuku declined, far more politely than Katsuki ever would have.
“But D-.. Izuku-kun, it’ll be fun. I’m sure they had a little All Might one.” She either didn’t see or ignored the way Izuku flinched in on himself. How could she be so blind? Izuku hasn’t been comfortable around All Might in ages.
“He can’t go, he already has plans.” Katsuki heard the words before he realized he was the one speaking them. Ururaka turned to look at Katsuki with narrowed eyes.
“Yeah, sorry, Ururaka, but Bakugo has asked me to watch that new hero documentary with him. The one about Best Jeanist.” Katsuki held in the repulsion at the name of his least favorite hero. That fucker had wasted a whole internship dressing Katsuki up like a doll trying to shove idealogies into him. Best Jeanist was right about one thing, heroes and villains were cut from the same cloth, especially when both of them pick Katsuki out because they wanted to shape him to their desires. God, it put a bad taste in his mouth. “We’re trying to analyze why the top heroes all seem to be dicks.”
“Izuku!” Ururaka wasn’t the only one to gasp at the curse.
Or maybe it was him talking down about heroes. Though how that was surprising to any of them was baffling on its own. Did they not also go through the shit show of the first semester with them? Every continuous interaction with heroes as a whole was like peeling away the rose tint until there was no lens to begin with. The only heroes that haven’t failed their class completely have been the ones that work directly for UA and even then not all of them could qualify.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Oh we can have a movie night and the whole class can-”
“No thank you.” Izuku cut her off. “We’ve had this planned for a while and Hound Dog says it would be good to exercise amenity and all that.”
Katsuki knew that Izuku could lie. He’s been doing it for years, lying and hiding behind a false persona of wellness. It was just odd to see it used to keep people away other than bring them in. It was almost mesmerizing to watch Izuku sink his words into his victim like claws and extract the reactions and feelings he wanted. Manipulation perfected for the purpose of survival unleashed and unlikely to be reeled back in.
“Sorry, Round Cheeks, Hound Dog’s orders.” Katsuki gruffed, making sure he sounded like this was against his will. He wonders if this was abusing his power of forced Therapy or if he was being a better person by helping Izuku out of a situation he clearly didn’t want to go into? He’ll find out next week.
“What are you guys going to be alone or something? That sounds like bad news, Izuku-kun. Should a teacher or something supervise this?”
“Hey! Don’t insult my fucking efforts by implying that we can’t watch a dumbass documentary without blowing each other up. And you don’t really get a say in whatever the hell I do anyway. So back off. Izuku said he didn’t want to go to your cafe shit, lay the fuck off.” Katsuki slammed his hands on his desk. He winced as he could already feel the wood smolder under the heat. It would leave a hand mark, but no explosion went off so he was doing fine. He kept breathing deeply through his nose, trying to keep the rage from consuming him.
“You can barely talk without blowing something up, Bakugo. I’m just making sure Izuku is properly protected from a brute like you.” She snapped.
“Ochako, that’s enough.” The room got ice cold, the way it got when one of Izuku’s ghosts decided to lend him a hand at intimidation or protection. “Katsuki has worked really hard on trying to get better and it’s not fair for you to act like it’s any of your business how far he’s come. It’s also not your place to protect me. I’m not some child who needs protection.”
Katsuki almost wanted to argue that last part, but he couldn’t. Izuku had proved time and time again he was usually the last one standing in any sort of trist. He was the one that kept having to protect everyone else.
“I was just trying to make sure he wasn’t strong-arming you again, Deku.”
“Uraraka, if you call me Deku one more time.” His eyes had a toxic glow to them, and his shadows were becoming a bit too solid and whip-like for everyone's comfort.
She stutters out another apology before leaving. Katsuki glances around and sees that no one else is in the classroom at this point, just the two of them. He’s sure someone had gone to get the hobo at one point. Either when he slammed his hand down or just now as Izuku’s hold on his quirk started to slip.
“There isn’t a Best Jeanist Documentary is there?” Katsuki asked, and this seemed to pull Izuku out of his thoughts.
“Oh there is, but it’s not worth watching again. It was from that herotuber that likes to click bait more than actually research. But I know a lot of people have at least heard of it and she’s pretty popular. We can watch something else if you want.”
Katsuki almost didn’t catch that last part. A week ago it would have been said in a stutter, hands wringing together or no invitation at all.
“I mean, it would look strange if we didn’t hang out tonight.”
“I guess.”
/////\\\\\
Izuku’s room was as cluttered as ever, except for a small nook that hosted a saucer-chair and a pile of soft but heavy blankets. The utter lack of All Might - except for a few childhood treasures - wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was the list of new hero names and costume ideas that littered his desk and overflowed his trash can.
“Phantom-glow?” Katsuki couldn’t help but laugh.
“Cryptid Cookies.” Izuku held up another crumpled paper.
“So you are the midnight baker. Kirishima owes me 1000 yen.” Katsuki was sitting at Izuku’s desk, chair swiveled to look at the other, who was sitting crossed legged on his bed. There was a tense awkwardness that neither boy knew how to push past. It wasn’t suffocating, but it was present.
“The cafe isn’t good Doesn’t taste good, I mean.” Izuku said out of the blue. “Aizawa took me there when… He threatened the staff when they tried to kick us out and we actually got the drinks for free. Their charms are cheaply made and overpriced. Kitty’s Cat Cafe is much better.”
“That’s the Hobo’s main cafe, right?” Aizawa had taken Katsuki to the place once. It was embarrassing to admit to the man that he was allergic to cats. The man had looked at the teen as if he was missing one of the greatest things in the world. Though he did find out that his teacher didn’t actually like to change up his routine, because the man started to get a bit awkward and shifty before they found a small hole-in-the-wall ramen place. Kirishima had been with them and didn’t seem to notice anything. Though the other was still recovering from the hike, that was more difficult than it had advertised.
“Yeah, though I guess you can’t go in.” Izuku shrugged.
“At least they let me in.” Katsuki huffed. That kind of killed the conversation. Katsuki wondered if it would just be better to sneak back into his own room and just pretend that they had hung out. It wasn’t like Hound Dog had actually ordered this. Not that the therapist would mandate something like that. “Why aren’t you hanging out with your group of friends, anyway?”
“Because they’re going to a cafe that’s quirkist.” Izuku looks at the other teen as if they suddenly achieved compulsive amnesia or something.
“I’m not talking about today, dumbass. Ever since you got back from being a baby or whatever you’ve been avoiding the shitty extras.” Katsuki tossed over one of the nerd’s softer things that was on his desk. He caught it, stopping him from picking at his hands.
“We had to live through our trauma. That was the whole point of the shitty quirk.” Izuku’s face scrunched up as if he had eaten something old and sour. “Dad and Hitoshi were in a place where it benefited them. I wasn’t.”
The words sounded rehearsed, probably because they were. Katsuki knew all too well that rehearsing the correct thing to say will make it real in the long run. ‘Fake it till you make it’ only works for so long. You either make it or you stop faking.
“Are you pushing people away or are you overwhelmed?” Katsuki tried to think of what Hound Dog would say or the Hobo in a situation like this. “Not that I care.” Was tacked on to keep his reputation of not caring too much.
“Both, probably.” Izuku laid back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. Katsuki had the urge to lay down next to him. His hair was getting longer, growing out of that puffed wild stage and into something that fit the other better. Katsuki wondered if those curls were as soft as he remembered. “Dad and Hitoshi got to see my memories for some reason. Something to do with the quirk that I haven’t figured out why and I think I don’t want to. I don’t think it would be good for me to try to pick it apart.”
“The kid is six so it’s not like he’d have a lot of answers anyway.” Katsuki nodded, remembering the overflow of rumors throughout the campus. “But it’s like when that copy-freak on 1-B told fucking everyone about your, uh, mom?”
“I’ve been calling her Inko?” Izuku shrugged. “And kind of. It’s just that I don’t want to be forced to tell anyone anything anymore. I don’t want the option of spilling my secrets to just be snapped away. They probably planned this trip to also ask why I’ve been avoiding them. I don’t know. I just didn’t want to be cornered. They’re great, but they can be a bit -”
“Hard headed and overwhelming. Yeah my group is like that too. I usually either spark at them or walk away. Mina is going to be a bit up my ass after tonight wondering what we got up to.” Katsuki could already feel the headache coming on. He likes them well enough. They helped him keep from going out of control when things got bad, but they also were different from the people he was used to being around. It was exhausting sometimes.
“I also can’t seem to go back to how I was before. I can’t pretend to be okay anymore. And they’re smothering me wondering what happened, but it’s not like it’s anything new, it’s just that I can’t be the person they had become friends with anymore.”
“I don’t know.” Katsuki swiveled the chair in a lazy circle. The sun had already set and while the lights were still one it felt like they were at midnight confessions, their own world, letting whatever they say be said without fear of being judged. “I’m sure Todoroki didn’t become your friend because you were overly nice and a doormat.”
“I was not a doormat!” Izuku shot up from his bed and glared at Katsuki.
“Why does Round Cheeks still call you Deku?” Katsuki glared back, which became some sort of power-struggle staring contest. Izuku blinked first, falling back onto his bed. “I’m not saying you didn’t have any reason to be a doormat, I’m just saying that isn’t why Icy-hot is your friend. I’m pretty sure he fell in love with you when you went out of your way to be a dick to him.”
“What?” Izuku was now looking at Katsuki, laying on his side, propping his head in his hand and leaning on his elbow.
“Have you watched the Sports Festival from this year. Like you’re own shit? You litterally fucking taunted him. Here, give me a second.” Katsuki snatched up his phone and searched for the video. Katsuki shoved Izuku to one side of his bed and crawled in so they could both watch the clip.
“I look like a mess.” Izuku cringed. He was bloody and you didn’t need to be a doctor to know that his hand was fucked up. Still he stood there with a shivering Todoroki.
Can you? Because you haven’t put a scratch on me! You couldn’t hear what Todoroki said in reply, but you could hear Izuku screaming about it being his power, his quirk. And then the explosion of the cold air became too hot too fast. Izuku’s body was flung into the wall of the bleachers.
“And didn’t Frog-chick only start hanging out with you after you saved her and that grape-bitch during the USJ. She’s probably your friend because you’re you not because you can fake a fucking smile.”
Katsuki felt his cheeks heat up. They were so close together, too close, but he didn’t want to move. He’ll play it off as being a stubborn ass or something and not because he could count his freckles like stars. He’d never forgive himself for the fact that he ruined his friendship with Izuku because of something so stupid.
“My friends aren’t leaving me because I’m changing. Your friends won’t leave you either. Just tell them that they don’t need to stick their nose in your business, but you know less like I’d say it and more like you’d say it? Even if it’s not how you would have said it last week.”
“You’re being awfully nice all of a sudden.” Izuku let out a breath. It smelled like peppermint.
“Says you.” Katsuki grunted, turning to stare up at the ceiling. “No one will believe you.”
“Jiro and Shoji might, they can probably hear the entire building.”
“I’ll blow up their fucking faces if they try to side with you.”
“Ah there’s the Katsuki we know and love.” Izuku’s laugh twittered.
“Shut up nerd.”