There he is again…I wonder why he has such a problem with me. I even went out of my way to avoid bothering him after this morning. Izuku pondered this as he spotted the ash-blond boy coming towards him for the second time that day. Backpack slung over his shoulder, the well-dressed high school student was illuminated in the nighttime sky by the golden streetlamps above. Staring down at the ground, his dark green locks shading his eyes, Izuku waited for the familiar dark boots to stop within his view.

"Oi. What the fuck're you still doing out here, shitty kid? When I said get off the streets, I didn't mean 'and into an alleyway.'"

Izuku kept his head bowed. This was usually how things went with people — don't engage them and eventually they'll get bored. Being born and raised in China didn't help the fact that he had to actively think to understand Japanese. Not that he would talk either way.

Che-The student laughed crudely at Izuku's lack of response. "Pretty fucking bold of you to completely ignore someone who's actually trying to help you, shithead."

I just want to sleep. I'm tired. Izuku pulled at the sleeves of his extremely worn-out, oversized brown "hoodie," his only garment of clothing aside from his equally-battered up, knee-length jeans. His only possessions.

"You planning on staying here all night? Give me a fucking break."

No…I'm planning on going to work, and I'd appreciate it if you'd let me get a few hours of sleep beforehand.

"For fuck's sake….come're." Through his veil of green bangs, Izuku saw the frustrated teen's hand come toward him, likely an attempt to pull him off the ground.

But it was moving towards him slightly faster than Izuku would've liked. Instinctively, the small boy flinched violently, covering his face with his forearms. "H-hey…" He could barely hear the person towering over him menacingly over the sound of his own blood beginning to rush through his ears. Shit, he wants to hurt me…I have to get away…Izuku's eyes were wide in fear as he scuttled backward, pushing himself away from the stronger man who could easily kill him. Fuck…I made him mad…I need to run…hide…

It wasn't until his back collided with a pile of trash and his hand stabbed itself into a piece of broken beer bottle on the ground that Izuku finally stopped.

Ripping the shard from his hand and cradling the bloodied mess against his chest, soaking his only shirt, Izuku's mind was blind with fear, pain, and pure fight-or-flight. Well aware of his bony frame's limitations, he chose flight. Looking around as frantically as cornered prey, Izuku's eyes fell upon a doorknob with the alleyway. He lunged for it with his good hand, only to find it locked. Seeing the dark silhouette of the man slowly approaching him, he bit his lip in anxiety as he desperately pulled at the doorknob, using the entirety of his meager weight to try and get it open.

It was hopeless. The steel door was locked tight, and there was probably nobody inside. Izuku was gasping for air, looking around desperately for another escape route. His eyes became cloudy as he accepted his fate. He fell to his knees, seeing the man's figure approach him with outstretched hands.

Go to your quiet space, Izuku. His eyes glazed over as he clutched his bloody hand. It'll be done soon.

—

Katsuki slowly walked towards the small boy. Fucking hell, what did I do…He had his arms outstretched in front of him; a gesture of both surrender and compliance. He saw the light drain from frightened eyes as the child knelt down in front of him like a slave.

Katsuki felt as if he were trying not to scare off a baby bird. "Kid…are you okay…?" Before he got too close, Katsuki opted to keep that distance and sat down, crossing his legs and leaning his head back against the wall. The homeless boy was gazing vacantly toward the ground. A dusting of freckles splashed across his cheeks and nose, and his lips were parted slightly; ever wordless. The blood stain on his shirt was growing larger and larger. As slowly as he could, Katsuki placed one hand on his heart, like a silent promise of good intention, and stretched the other toward the dark shadow in the back of the alleyway.

Izuku's mind was perfectly calm. A pond without a single ripple. It was comfortable, and he finally felt alone. Disconnected even from the pain within his physical body. Distantly, he heard a voice.

"You're bleeding. Badly. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you, just please…let me help you."

They said they aren't going to hurt me…that's nice. Images of a fully-grown man unbuttoning his shirt and approaching him flashed through his mind. "This won't hurt at all, cutie. Don't you worry~" Well, hurt me or not, I'm not gonna be there.

Let me help you. The final words registered in Izuku's mind. An order. A ripple in the pond. His body twitched as he slowly got up to his feet. Gotta do what I'm told. He slowly trudged over to the body slumped against the wall. When he was standing above him, he stopped. He extended his hand towards him, palm up, letting the blood pool in his palm and drip down his wrist. "Shit…" the man said as he grabbed the hem of his white t-shirt, lifting it up to his mouth and ripping it with his teeth. Tearing off a strip of fabric, he wrapped it around Izuku's palm, binding it tightly. When it was secured, he looked up into the boy's eyes. "Are…you alright?"

Nothing.

With a sigh, Katsuki stood up. Walking over to where he had dropped his backpack in panic, he called out to Izuku. "Come on, we're getting out of this shitty place." As he bent down, however, a loud voice exploded into the alleyway.

"There you are, Izuku! For a second there I thought you ran away!" An adult, clearly drunk beyond his mind, stumbled into the light and leaned one arm against the wall. "Let's have some fun~" Izuku didn't respond. The man took a step forward, before running into Katsuki's arm.

"Oi, who the fuck are you?"

The man's eyes lowered as he seemed to just notice Katsuki's presence. "A kid? Hey, you're that Bakugou's brat! At the ramen shop! Oi, beat it, or I'll tell your dad you were hanging in the alleys after dark."

"Like I care! I was just heading back anyway!" He turned back to face Izuku, who was still standing several paces back, unmoving. "You coming, shithead? Oi!"

"He can't talk, in case you haven't noticed, idiot. He's mute. Just go home— I'll take care of this one." The man's tongue flicked across his teeth as he tried to advance towards Izuku again, only to be stopped by the same arm.

"You his dad?"

"AH?! It's none of your fucking business, brat! Get out of here!" The man shoved Katsuki backwards, causing him to stumble.

Katsuki's crimson eyes darkened. "Hey looney-tunes. You'd better tell me right now if this asshole is your old man, before I beat the living shit out of him."

"HAH, that kid's mouth is only good for one thing, and it sure as hell ain't answering questions." The man chuckled maniacally, rolling his forehead against the wall.

He continued to chuckle at his own joke as a blush crept up Katsuki's neck after finally understanding the situation, perhaps in more detail that he would've liked. He swiveled around and swung his arm, along with his entire body weight, directly into the drunkard's jaw, slamming his face into the brick wall. Blood immediately began to well up in droplets along long scrapes. "Oh, you little fucker! You're gonna regret that SO fucking much!" Before he could fully orient himself to attack Katsuki, a black boot collided directly with the side of his leg, before his head was violently grabbed and slammed into an upcoming knee.

Screaming every combination of curse words possible at the top of his lungs, the man rolled on the ground, clutching his knee to his chest. Katsuki reached behind him, grabbed the loosely hanging sleeve of the completely unfazed kid, and entered the golden glow of the sidewalk.

Izuku had never seen anything like it. Someone had stood up for him, and protected him. He treated his injury and wouldn't let an adult touch him. A boy his own age, fighting a fully-grown man. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he was dragged by his sleeve by this young embodiment of strength. Bright eyes under knitted brow, flicking back every once in a while to make sure he is alright. Concern hidden under a mask of indifference. Finally, he yanked his sleeve back, stopping in the center of the nighttime bustle of Tokyo.

The blond boy paused in his stride, turning around slowly to face Izuku. Amongst chattering people who paid them no mind, he appeared to be the only focus within a sea of blurred images. The only one who demonstrated true altruism throughout all 17 years of Izuku's life.

With eyes toward the ground, Izuku lowered his head, bowing deeper until he was staring at the ripped knees of his faded jeans. One of the only forms of communication he was capable of. He stayed in that position until those dark boots came into his vision again, followed by a scowling face as the tee squatted down to Izuku's level.

They were both silent, ignoring confused passerby's as they noticed the odd scene.

"Your name's Izuku?"

The greenette nodded.

"I'm Katsuki. Katsuki Bakugou. My family owns the ramen shop down there." He gestured with a quick nod behind him. "Walk with me?"

Despite the fact that he had a few hours to spare before his shift started at 11, Izuku shook his head. He straightened up only after Katsuki started to rise. "Why not? Clearly you aren't busy."

I made a promise.

"And God knows when you last ate anything."

I promised myself.

"Come on, Izuku."

I swore that I'd never get close to anyone again.

"You owe me for my ripped shirt anyway."

Izuku looked up. Shit. He noticed the large tear in Katsuki's shirt, much more apparent in the light. The only thing Izuku hated more than bothering other people was owing them. "Come on." Katsuki nodded in the direction of the shop and began to walk, assuming Izuku would follow. He didn't. I can't reveal myself to you, Katsuki…after three long years I've managed to shape myself into who I am today; perfectly alone. To go with you, someone strong, innocent, untouched, pure, clean, ambitious—"Can you not walk? Can you not just fucking listen to me?" Izuku jumped at Katsuki's sudden change of tone. "You're overthinking shit. Let's go, shitty Deku."

Izuku blinked. All these years of carefully assessing all the ways he would inevitably be hurt by anyone he encounters. Every action suppressed, every desire immediately neglected. Yet, the simplicity of Katsuki's words cut through the hazy night air like a bullet. The almost unbelievable lack of hesitation. A naivety, perhaps even stupidity, with regard to the incredible torture Izuku has experienced throughout his life. The violence, the abuse, the abandonment, the judgement.

All tossed aside for a bowl of ramen.

Izuku thought he felt the corner of his mouth lift slightly for a brief moment, before stepping forward to catch up with Katsuki's pace.