Noye: A number of trigger warnings: bullying, panic attacks, forms of anxiety, unfairness and other triggers that can't be mentioned to avoid spoilers.

Where Golden Flowers Bloom

Chapter 16: Fox, Rabbit

SevenRenny

The thing about children's' dreams: they were there for a reason.

He didn't remember the beginning of his love for Heroes. He just knew he'd always loved them and pictured he'd grow up and be one, too. Every kid, young or younger, wanted to be like all the awesome Heroes they saw on TV. It wasn't a matter of 'if' but 'when'. What do you want to be when you grow up? Adults would ask. The answer was always 'a Hero' just like so and so. Kids loved them. Parents loved them. Manufacturing companies loved them.

Izuku had been no different. It had always been 'when'. Just a few more years. Just when I grow up. Just when I finish school. Just when I get my chance.

"He has two joints. It's not common to see that these days but it means your son is Quirkless."

Maybe that had been his first downfall: Dreaming, even though everyone did so. He did it wrong – that had to be the case. He tended to be wrong, he knew that much. Four-year-old him didn't. Four-year-old him hadn't learned, until he learned. The lesson sunk in slowly. He refused to let it in, wished it away, fought it, cried over it, then denied its existence as it hung off of him. Stubborn, he was. A big-dreamer, he was.

An idiot, he was.

…

"I remember that one video of All Might," Izuku said, his fingertips brushing the fine sand, digging a snaky trail. "I used to get my mom to set it up on the computer for me. The one where he saves so many people from a fire."

"I remember that," Ochaco said, listening, paying attention.

"Yeah. I still watch it sometimes. I had Hero toys and cards and I used to wish I'd be a great Hero like All Might on my birthdays when I blew out the candles. That was all I thought about. My friends at the time – well – my friend and his friends thought about being Heroes, too."

"Your friend's friends?"

"Yeah… I don't think they ever liked me like I thought back then. I used to have one friend. Kacchan lived in the same neighborhood, and our mom's knew each other, so we did a lot of things together."

…

Like that time they played ball in the park; when only he struggled to catch the ball that bounced so low and pathetically even a garden snail would laugh at him if it could. A new yellow ball that didn't look so new – not with the shine dusted over it by playground dirt and small but many shoeprints of dirty children – was kicked, tossed, dropped. Izuku would hug it to his midsection. He was so small back then his fingers didn't touch when his arms circled the ball.

"Wow, Kacchan, you can read?" he asked in astonishment.

"Yeah. What? You can't? Lame."

It was all in good fun, he assumed. There was nothing to compare this social dynamic to, so he wouldn't know what others looked like. It was hard to imagine being in another group of friends. Though, deep down, he knew he only had one real friend. That had been his original thought, at least. Kacchan was the leader of their little group of friends made up of four (sometimes five) boys. Fearless and oblivious to what a world could do to little children, he led the band into games and through stores and under chain-link to see what hid on the other side.

"Deku means you can't do anything!" Kacchan had explained.

It was hard to argue with the leader. In the mind of children, what they saw in front of them was all they knew, and Kacchan, time and time again, demonstrated his leadership skills. He knew something about everything. If he said he could kick the ball over his head and kick it again from behind and over again, Izuku believed it even before seeing it. If Kacchan said he'd get a plastic All Might toy from a capsule that was spat out of a Gashapon machine in a store, he'd get it.

But who else got it? Deku.

It seemed like Kacchan could do the impossible, so when Deku managed to do what Kacchan could do, it was bliss on Deku's end. But, like a seesaw, there was always a reaction on the other end.

…

"His friends got their Quirks first. We got really excited. Started naming what kind of powers we'd get. I thought I'd get fire, like my dad, or something like my mom. I was even okay with something that wasn't really strong. Heroes made their normal Quirks strong. I thought, whatever I got, I'd work with it. I'd train myself. I wasn't going to give up on that dream. I wanted to be a Hero. I wanted to save people. That was all I wanted. I couldn't think if anything else I wanted to do... Then Kacchan got his Quirk... We were at kindergarten and he made these small sparks in his hands. He kept doing it, and made little explosions."

"Explosions? From his hands?" Ochaco asked with a head tilt. There was a tickle of familiarity to it.

"Yeah. It was amazing when I saw it. I said it was so cool. I really thought it was cool. Ever since it manifested, he kept playing with it – see how big he could make it, how loud, how bright. Kacchan was amazing with it. I couldn't wait for mine so I could catch up to him and maybe we could practice together. We could go to UA and we'd be great Heroes. But... it never showed up. I thought maybe it already manifested and I didn't know. Even when the doctor said I was Quirkless, that it would never happen, I kept trying to breathe fire or move things without touching them but... nothing happened... I didn't want to believe it. I thought maybe there was a chance the doctor was wrong. He said it was a rare case, because both my parents had Quirks, but I had the toe joints. The chance was so small, but I had them. Why me? I didn't want to believe I was Quirkless. I refused. It felt better to lie to myself. I said I'd get my Quirk one day. I'd practice. But–"

…

"Deku never got it," Katsuki said. "Was the only one. I thought it was the lamest thing. Didn't want him around. He was below those Extras with useless Quirks. I did stuff and everyone else wanted to copy-cat whatever I did. Threw rocks at empty cans I found on the ground. Garbage some stupid teenagers left. Beer or something. Spilled the rest and played with the cans. I'd hit most of 'em. Neighborhood kids wanted to try. Even when they cheated, getting closer and all, they threw worse than a blind old man. Deku was the worst of them. Couldn't throw two feet away. I didn't expect anything from him, so when I bet he'd lose, he'd lose. But then he hit one. He was so dang happy about his lucky shot.

"I don't know what was up with me. Some fucked up shit in my head was happy when he lost at something. We'd throw stones and see how far they'd skip. I always had the highest number. Deku's stones just sank like I said they would. I'd catch as many bugs I could and Deku got pinched by something and got too chicken to catch anything. He'd want to play, so we'd tell him we're playing hide 'n seek. He'd hide and we'd never look for him. Joked about it all the way home."

"Harsh, man. Was he alright?" Kirishima asked, his brows pinched with concern. Katsuki was willingly giving him this story, knowing full well it wasn't putting him in a good light.

Katsuki shrugged his shoulders. "Came running the next day. Thought we forgot him cause no one found him. I told him no one was looking. He got all sad but acted like nothing happened later that day. Followed me around like usual. I'd let him, cause he was fun to laugh at. i don't know why I found it fucking funny. He couldn't do anything right. I thought it was funny at the time. But then, he started telling me what to do. Caught me off guard. My dumbass fell down a bridge."

"Wait - you what?"

"Relax. Wasn't that high. It was one of those tree-bridges. Whatever you call 'em. Was an off-limits place but I did what I wanted. The Extras didn't do shit. They knew I could handle it. Was just water down there. I was fine by myself. I didn't ask for Deku's help, but he came down anyway, like I couldn't get up myself. I didn't need help, much less from him so I told 'em to fuck off. I don't know what the hell happened to my brain from then. I must've hit my head on the way down, cause after that I couldn't stand him.

"I hated his face. I hated the way he talked. I'd push him down and he'd still stand up and run after me crying. I fought with another kid and I hit him in the stomach. Don't even remember what it was over, just know I hit him and Deku got in front of me. Quirkless Deku was acting Hero when he couldn't do anything. I remembered the day under the bridge and got pissed. I don't know why. I just did. I pushed him down a lot, but that was the first time I really beat him up. Whatever I did, the Extras had to do. We all went to the same schools. His voice irked me for whatever reason. I'd hear him muttering about his Hero shit and think when the hell is he gonna buzz off. "

…

"He don't got a Quirk?"

"Nah. My mom said it's called Quirkless."

"That's so lame."

It was lame to be that. No one wanted to be lame like Deku. Stay away from Deku, he might be contagious. Four-year-old Izuku understood: all men were not created equal. There were kings, there were clowns, there were servants, and there were peasants. It became clear; a friend was something he did not deserve, according to onlookers. The longer he lived, the more he came to believe it wasn't his Quirkless status, but, perhaps, he was all of his problems. It was all him. He constructed that impossible dream. He made himself believe in the impossible. He plugged his ears so hurtful facts wouldn't destroy the fantasy future he'd built himself – a world he made for himself where he could go and be a Hero with a long cape to wrap around children and a punch that sent mean Villains flying.

He still had his All Might birthday cakes. His mom knew he loved those, even if the future seemed bleak. Maybe she thought he would go into college and still keep this as a hobby he enjoyed in his room.

Izuku couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell her he lived for his hobby, and he didn't know what to do without it. He had something to love and believe in. Even if his conscious whispered to him 'it's impossible', he didn't listen. It was too scary to listen. What else would he think about on the daily? What else would make him feel like he could be something – someone?

Being from the same neighborhood as the other kids, they shared the same school – the one nearest. Those who lived close walked, those who lived far biked, and those who lived farther took the bus. Those who knew him from before still knew him. Those who didn't know him eventually knew him. Not much had changed. He still sucked at P.E.; still had no friends; still let himself be talked down to and tripped; still cried and shivered; still stuttered because the words he wanted to force out squirmed in his throat.

…

He ran the tip of his pencil over the same line again and again, thickening the outline of his crude drawing illustrated on the side page of his school notebook. The bored teacher talked like he'd just woken up from a four-hour deep sleep. Most students messed with other things, flicking folded paper, or rolling an eraser, or clicking a pencil and pressing the tip back in. Someone had an open chip bag on her lap. This teacher was known to let things like this slide, mostly because no one took him seriously. This class knew how to get under this teacher's skin.

Izuku didn't learn much from this particular teacher. He'd studied for this lesson yesterday in his room. He taught himself and got good grades on paper. Participation was his weakness. Lifting his hand meant eyes would turn to him and ears would pay attention to the slightest voice crack out of him. He opted to scribble on his notebook, a habit that grew with him. The drawing: a Hero costume, this time. He had control of what this costume had or what it did or why it was there. His fantasy and his reality did not like each other. UA had removed its 'Quirk-only' requirement, with mostly a negative reaction from the public. His dream told him he'd be the first to – at least – try, even if his gut told him his dream was getting close to its expiration date. 'Just try' he told himself every day. Don't give up before trying.

Something lightweight, dry and flimsy smacked him lightly him in the head. The crinkled-up piece of notebook paper landed on his desk, over his Hero costume design. Pulled out of his daytime hobby, he looked up, searching for whoever threw it. The teacher had his back to everyone. Most students were hunched over their desks, twirling their pens between their fingers. Someone balanced a pencil on his puckered lip. A few in the front leaned slightly to the side to whisper to each other. The faces that did momentarily peek back were the ones imbedded into his memory. The two members of the Bakugo gang smirked at him. The leader himself had his feet up on the desk to tilt his chair back, almost hitting the desk behind.

Suspicious, Izuku unfolded the paper ball. It was a messy doodle of a character with a pointy head and derpy eyes and a tongue sticking out. It looked like no one he recognized. The cartoony poop next to the figure indicated this was an insult.

The boy on his right – one of the two that tailed Katsuki – snickered. "Midoriya, that's a bad thing to do to sensei," he said loud enough.

Izuku instantly panicked. "No – wait, it's not – this isn't–!" Eyes were instantly on him. Those who were about to sleep on their desks woke up. The teacher sighed tiredly and turned around. His hand stretched – literally – over the students' heads and plucked the wrinkled paper out of Izuku's hand. "Midoriya, what did I tell you about drawing in class? This isn't Art class. What is this?" He finally looked at it more closely.

Izuku's heart thrummed in his throat. His fingers started to sweat. The boy next to him had his hand over his mouth to unsuccessfully stifle a chuckle. The boy's shoulders quivered in the attempt to silence himself.

"It – It wasn't me, sensei! I d – didn't do that, I swear," he tried to explain, stuttering and voice-cracking. "Someon– aak!" He helped when the teacher's other hand stretched over and chopped him on the head. Izuku grabbed at his head with both hands and sunk until his chin rested over his cold desk.

"That's enough out of you." The man sounded more annoyed than angry. He folded the paper and slipped it into his front pocket. "Kids these days..." he grumbled to himself.

Izuku's embarrassment didn't subside for the rest of the ignored lesson. His dilemma had been amusing to his classmates. It was a classic 'Midoriya did something' moment that broke the overall monotone routine of their daily lives. He never got to correct the misunderstanding, which made him predict an unavoidable trip to the principal's office. His heart jumped when the teacher called him, asking him if he could come to the front and write an answer to a question he almost missed if it hadn't been written. He got it right.

Head still down, he cracked his brain thinking of how to explain without making it sound like a guilty person blaming it on someone else.

Fortunately, that call never happened. Maybe the teacher had mercy on him. Maybe he figured Izuku wasn't worth the time. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he didn't want to show that piece of humiliating evidence to the principle. In the end, nothing happened.

Unfortunately, with nowhere important to go, the scavengers moved in.

They huddled around him just as he was stuffing his book and notebook back into the yellow backpack he had seated on his lap. Izuku tried, and failed, to hide his worry.

"Ohh, what you got there?" The skinny boy swiftly took Izuku's pen. At the top, a thin chain stretched down. At the end of the chain was a tiny All Might head. The boy showed his friend and had a good laugh before tossing it to Katsuki.

"Hey!" Izuku stood up, and froze in place like the coward he was. "That's mine. Please, g – give that back!"

"Give that back," the skinny boy mocked in a whiny voice. "How old are you? Didn't your mom tell you not to bring your toys to school?"

Katsuki held the pen so the small toy at the end swung like a pendulum. From his vision, he saw Deku, then All Might, then Deku, All Might, Deku, All Might, Deku… He scowled sharply.

Izuku swallowed, wanting to curl into a ball, his body remembering, preparing, warning him.

Katsuki suddenly smirked. Not a good sign on Izuku's end. Katsuki grabbed the pen and toy in his hand and had his palm open in front of him, showing it to Izuku in a way that said 'go on, take it'. On guard, Izuku had his eyes locked on Katsuki's as he slowly reached for his pen, reading the other boy's face, ready to see a sudden change. It did change. Katsuki's smirk sharpened like a devil's, and Izuku heard the crackle before he felt the heat. Katsuki's hand exploded and Izuku yelped, throwing himself back and hitting the back of his chair painfully. Even after the fire died, Izuku squirmed in his seat, his knees pulled up and feet off the floor, his hands covering his face.

The charred pen clicked against the floor somewhere to the side.

He aimed for anything Hero related, Izuku had noticed. Anything that indicated Izuku hadn't released his hold on that impossible dream.

…

"...why, man?" Kirishima asked in a shaky voice he hoped wasn't too noticeable. The color drained from his face. "I don't get it..."

Katsuki wasn't looking at him. He never did throughout his story. He stared at the far-away city towers with unfocused, half-lidded eyes. "I'd see him and think he's following me. Like he knew he could do what I could. Like I was on his level. We weren't the same. I was on top in everything. That's how it always was. That's how I wanted it to be. I don't get it myself. Been trying to figure myself out and I got nothing. I just did it cause I could. I did everything to him. He'd do that thing where he'd ramble about some Hero and I'd lose my shit." He made a cynical snort. "Best part, I wasn't sorry."

"You never got in trouble…?" Kirishima asked, astonished this had gone on for so long.

Katsuki snorted again. "Teachers didn't care. Did it in front of everybody. No one said shit."

…

"No one tried to help you?" Ochaco asked, placing a comforting hand on his arm. Part of her was relieved to feel him, to know he was there. The other part of her knew she couldn't reach for a bird that already flew away.

"Not at first, no," he said mournfully. "I didn't tell anyone, either. I didn't want anyone to get in trouble."

"But Izuku…"

"It's stupid I know. I thought I could hold out? And, maybe I was doing something wrong. Everyone wanted to go to Heroics schools and… I didn't want to ruin that for everyone. I didn't want to complain and make things harder for everyone and... I didn't think anyone would care. Maybe I was overreacting… getting upset… Maybe I started it and I didn't know. I didn't want to make it worse. I didn't think it was that bad at the time – when it was still happening."

…

Izuku had been at the end of a math homework a few minutes before the teacher could come in when someone approached his desk. He physically stilled.

"Hey," the horned girl said nervously. She was slightly on the chubbier side and had her hands tucked behind her back.

"H – Hey," he managed to answer.

Groups of friends were huddled around desks or sitting on desks. It was always like this when the teacher wasn't around.

"You're Midoriya, right?" she asked with a small smile. "I'm Suzuki. You must've seen me. I sit in front." She pointed to the desk at the front, to the far right of the teacher's, next to the window.

Unused to the sudden encounter, Izuku's brain shut down on him, leaving him gaping like an idiot. He finally managed to speak. "Yeah. Ah – I know. I mean – I know your name, I mean!" He regretted every sound that came out of him.

She simply laughed. Behind her, another girl approached, fixing her glasses and fake-coughing in a manner that said 'back to business.' Izuku had seen her before, usually around this girl – Suzuki – exchanging words and erasures and what did they get on their last test. Friends.

"Sorry to butt in when you're busy," said the one with glasses. Her tone hinted she wanted to get through this interaction as fast as humanly possible.

"It's okay…" Izuku wasn't paying attention to what escaped his mouth. He hadn't been prepared for this situation… whatever this situation was. "Do you... Do you need anything?" He hoped he didn't sound rude.

"I know this is all of a sudden and we don't know each other that well but…" the chubby one said nervously. She showed him what was behind her back: her notebook, open. "Could I copy your homework? I'm not good at History and I can't find the answers." She lowered her voice to explain, "There's a lot going on at home. I don't have enough time to do everything. You're really good at studying and I thought… you know… you could help me? All the smart boys in class are busy."

Izuku looked at her with sympathy. He wanted to help, no matter how scared he was of talking to girls. Was this the right way, though? "I… sure. Yeah. Do you – um, do you want me to teach you?" He had no idea what to do. He was sweating through his collar.

"Oh, no. I just want to see your answers," she explained.

"That's… won't the sensei notice? I could show you how to–"

"No, it's okay. I did this before. Sensei never said anything. I study what I write after."

"I…" He was torn. People did that a lot. He'd seen them do that, copy off of each other.

"It's just homework," Glasses girl said impatiently. "I'd help her but I don't have everything done."

Right. It was just homework. It was fine. Not everyone had the time to do it. She had come up to him for assistance. Just homework. "Okay," he said reluctantly.

"Oh, thank you! You're a lifesaver. I knew I could count on you."

She copied everything standing, bending in front of his desk. He kept awkwardly silent, only speaking when asked if there was more. She thanked him some more and left when the teacher finally lumbered in. Izuku couldn't control the blush that heated his cheeks. He'd never had a girl thank him so casually.

Katsuki had eyed him from the corner of his eye, a scowl on his face. "Pathetic," he scoffed and lazily leaned against his fist with his elbow propped on the desk, already bored of the teacher who hadn't started anything yet.

Izuku had assumed this homework-coping would be a one-time thing. That wasn't the case. She came by often, sometimes expectedly, eventually becoming less and less polite about it, sometimes not even talking to him, but stopping by and tapping at his desk, like asking him to hurry up while her attention was more focused on the conversation she'd be having with her friend. It slowly became clear she had gotten used to him doing as told. On one hand: he was a tad bit disappointed she didn't seem to care as he had his notebook ready. On the other hand: he reminded him he was a coward. He'd let Kacchan walk all over him, and he was letting it happen again.

"Hey, Deku!" One boy approached him during a 10-minute-break of dodge ball and dropped a skeleton-thin arm around a visibly uncomfortable Izuku. "You giving out homework? Sign me up."

"I… uh…" Izuku struggled to formulate a sentence.

"Or is it just for the girls?" The boy grinned at him with his wide face and wide head and wide mouth. "You getting any exchanges or what?"

"No! I – I…" Izuku stuttered, his face turning red.

Another boy dropped his own arm around Izuku's shoulders. "Awww, you trying to lure in a girl with your homework? What, finally realized all that Hero stuff ain't gonna get you anywhere? Plan B, eh?"

The skinnier boy snickered. "Hoping he'd get lucky and get a girl with a nice Quirk. He's obsessed with Quirks."

"Gotta make up for what he don't got."

"It's not that!" Izuku finally spoke up. "I was just helping!" he defended, though; even he didn't believe himself at this point.

"Let me guess, she told you a sob story and you fell for it?" the skinny boy asked, already knowing the answer.

"I…" Izuku didn't know what to say.

"She says that to everyone. Everyone knows this. Different excuse every time. What rock are you under?"

He couldn't answer. He wouldn't know about his rock. He didn't have anyone to talk with and exchange news. He didn't eavesdrop. He was more inside his own mind, dreaming of daydreams too big for himself.

The other boy laughed. "She went through everybody. Got shot down every time so she tried her luck with Deku!"

"Must've been desperate."

"You really thought you were being a Hero, rescuing a girl in need? Congrts, man, she played you. She played you good!"

Izuku was saved by the teacher's whistle. Take your places. The team who had reluctantly settled with him spread out like chess pieces, as did the team on the other side of the line of tape on the floor. He took position with his legs parted and knees bent, but his mind ran away. He was stupid. He was an idiot. Both and much more. Everyone else knew the basics of being in a social group; a community. Everyone but him. He was the one out of the loop. Nevermind Homework Girl. He was all alone. Right there, in the middle of a group of special kids, and he was the screaming pebble, better through it off in the river to shut it up.

He didn't hear the whistle. He didn't see the ball.

He did hear the rubbery smack inside his skull when it struck him in the face, followed by the heavy thud of the back of his head hitting the ground. His neck hurt more than anything else despite the point of doable-impact being his head. His watery eyes squinted and saw the lights on the ceiling, far up there. Dazzed, he turned his head and saw the ball rolling away, one side darker than the other. Someone picked it up hastily and turned it to check on the damaged part.

The teacher blew the whistle. "Midoriya," the P.E. teacher called from the side.

"Sensei, Bakugo used his Quirk again!" the girl holding the ball announced.

"Bakugo, out of the team! Stand to the side – I'll get back to you after. Nobody move."

He'd been hit before; though, Kacchan usually went for the stomach if there was distance. He'd hit harder if he was aiming for the shoulder, chest or stomach. The technique of roughly grabbing Izuku by the collar and shoving him against the wall was a favorite of Katsuki's. That, and yelling down at him to the point of scaring the inner animal in Izuku into shrinking and getting ready to either flee or hide; because he could not fight that. He'd lose. He learned to always lose against him. The prey inside him understood, after multiple lessons, fighting the hunter wasn't smart. The rabbit ran and hid. The rabbit never won against a fox's dangerous teeth and claws.

So, he sat outside the principal's office with a sore nose and blood-stained handkerchief in hand and three empty seats between him and a disgruntled Kacchan. The nurse had cleared him after his nosebleed had slowed to a stop.

Katsuki had his arms crossed, back hunched, and legs spread out in front of him in a way that it was a tripping-risk if someone passed by without looking down. Izuku was hunched down as well, in a more submissive manner. Legs together, straight. Body, stiff. His lips pressed thin. All of him, shrunken, small, wishing to vanish into nothing.

The P.E. teacher's voice was a murmur from inside the principal's office. Izuku could only assume he was telling his side of the story. He opened the door and the screech of the handle after what felt like hours of silence made Izuku's heart jump. He looked up and remembered his neck hurt, as did his nose and particularly between the eyes.

The man held the door open for them, sighed with exasperation, and closed the door after them.

The man behind the desk had squinty eyes of someone twenty years older than the rest of the face they were stuck to. Despite the fan blowing at him, he still wiped at his bald head with a cloth. He still had some grayish-white hair; a thin crescent moon of hair starting from the back of his ear, going around the back of his head, and reaching behind the other ear.

"Alright, boys," he said tiredly. His eyes made him look almost sleepy. "This is the second time you're here. I know you don't get along. It's tough being that age, I know. It can get finicky. I understand, I do. I've been there. You're close to becoming men. But remember, you're still boys here. I've seen your grades. You're both very smart. You have a lot ahead of you. Please, don't throw it all away like that. I'd hate to see such potential go wasted."

You have a lot ahead of you – he'd said. It was different when it came out of this man. When Izuku dreamt of what was – or what he hoped – was ahead of him, it sounded more… open, like the possibilities were endless. When that man said it, however, it sounded empty, close-ended. Perhaps, because, it wasn't aimed at him.

"Talk it out. Find a middle ground, yeah? Think of it this way: bear with it for now, and you don't have to see the other when you go off to high school."

He either didn't know, or knew and still said it. Izuku hoped it was the former. He wanted to give the man the benefit of the doubt.

The man said his good lucks and goodbyes. They left the office in painful silence. Izuku squeezed the front of his uniform anxiously like his own throat was trying to kill him. Walking behind the other boy who had his fists in his pockets, he kept his steps an even pace. They didn't even reach the turn when Katsuki stopped, and in turn, Izuku stopped and took a hesitant step back.

"You better heard that," Katsuki said. "Don't even try following me out of here." He turned and pointed at himself with his thumb. "I'm going to be the first from this stupid damn school to go to UA. This isn't a game you get to 'try out'. You'd die on the day of the exam." His scowl was a mix between a smirk and a grin a dog made when wanting to show its teeth. He reached out and gripped Izuku's shoulder.

Izuku flinched but didn't move away out of fright. He felt the numbing heat before he heard the sizzle.

"UA's for the top only, not for Quirkless nobodies. Get that through your thick skull."

Izuku wanted to protest, to say something – anything – that would ease his humiliation. He couldn't. The rabbit in him didn't want to get hurt. So, he stood there, tight-lipped, trying not to cry in frustration.

Satisfied, Katsuki huffed through his nose, indicating his job here was done. He retracted his hand, put it back in his pocket and started walking away again. Izuku stood in the hallway, as if he could stop time if he simply didn't move with it.

…

"Mom saw my face and got worried. I told her it was an accident with a ball. She got upset no one called her about it. I told her it's fine. It was just an accident. I didn't like seeing her worried. She asked if someone was bothering me. My clothes were burned." Izuku rubbed at his shoulder. "She talked to the school before. They didn't do anything. I think that's why the principal said something this time. He knew my mom would come and talk to him again. She talked to Kacchan's mom on the phone but I don't think he cared and I pretended everything was okay but… I think she stopped believing me. I didn't want to be difficult for her… I did anyway. I ruined my mom's friendship with his mom. I did everything wrong..."

…

The next day, the girl stopped by his desk. Her friend always lingered behind with an expressionless face and large glasses. She tapped on his desk with her fingertips, not looking him in the eye once.

"Well, I thought it was nice," she told her friend, leaning against Izuku's desk.

"Sometimes, I worry about your taste in films," said the one with glasses.

Izuku didn't move to bring out his notebook, but also didn't want to disrupt the conversation.

"I just thought it was romantic, okay?" the horned girl said, slightly offended.

"I really hope you don't apply that to real life."

"It's just a film."

"A bad one."

"You're no fun," the horned girl said half-heartedly and finally turned to Izuku. "Oh, we didn't have homework or…?" She sounded confused.

"We did. But…" Why was saying 'no' so hard? "I don't... think we should be doing this…? Ah – I don't mean I don't want to help! I just… think… it'll help if… I help you find them instead? I sometimes think it's easier to study when I know the pages, so… if – if you want me to show you how, I can–"

"So no homework?" she asked with disappointment.

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea anymore," Izuku explained nervously while twiddling his thumbs.

"Okay. It's fine. I get it." She walked turned away like she was used to being denied.

"Who else didn't you already try?" the girl with glasses asked her.

"Think uuuuh, maybe the boy in the back? Next to Watanabe?"

"Better hope he does homework."

The horned girl started weaving between desks, away from Izuku, already forgetting about him. Her friend lingered by his desk. He sat in awkward silence.

"Uhh…" He wanted to ask if she needed anything, or maybe say 'hey'. Nothing came out. She was more intimidating than the other girl.

She sighed. "It's just homework," she reminded him, like it wasn't a big deal for him to deny her friend such a simple thing. "Just let her copy."

"I know… but… I don't think it's right to keep doing this," he explained his side as politely as he could manage. Truthfully, it felt wrong to be taken advantage of so easily.

She sighed again, disappointed. "Nobody likes you, you know."

He hadn't expected that. He'd been told many things: useless, weakling, crybaby, give up, I'll kill you, die. He knew he wasn't liked. It was one thing to believe it for a long time; it was another thing to hear it with his own ears, by an almost-stranger, even.

"Really. No one does," she said and left to join her friend again.

Katsuki was in his usual seat: in front to the right. He sat like he always did, with his hand on his cheek and elbow on the desk. He must've heard and, thankfully, said nothing. Nerd got what he deserved.

To say Izuku didn't like school was an underestimate. The future would be better, he tried to trick himself into believing. Hero. That was all he wanted. It didn't matter what happened now. If he could be a Hero, than he'd be the happiest he could ever be. UA's doors were still open. Nothing could sway him from not trying; not a black eye, not a burned uniform and sore skin, and not his own fear that ate away at the back of his mind like maggots that ate already-dead flesh, digging feverishly during school mornings, his bedroom afternoons, and his dreams at night.

He was being naive, he knew. His desires were so deep they were self-destructive. Die trying. Try, because there was no way he'd be able to live with himself if he didn't even try. At least die knowing you tried. Hero. He wanted it. He wanted it more than anyone.

The next day, crude doodles and repetitive symbols scribbled with a variety of pens decorated his desk. Multiple games of Tic Tack Toe. Scribbles. White lines made using a correction fluid pen. The teacher asked everyone to take their seats and students took their time disbanding from their usual groups. Katsuki didn't need to go anywhere. He had his feet up on his desk and his chair was leaning back. He had enough confidence to be open and exposed like this, and all Izuku wanted to do was hide in a burrow. Backpack hanging onto his shoulders, Izuku silently made his way to his desk and caught the smirk on Kastuki's face and heard the chuckle of two boys. Izuku quickly looked away and gulped, knowing anything could set off Kacchan and the teacher would do nothing.

He pushed his chair back to sit – and heard the sound of screws rolling, like coins dropping. On his seat, five small thumb tacks, two rolling back and forth on their tilted heads, three pointed up. He must've stood and stared for a while, because someone couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Midoriya," the teacher said impatiently, fingers picking out a chalk pen that wasn't chipped at the sides. "Sit down. Class can't wait for you."

"Your heard sensei. Sit down, Deku," the friend of Kacchan's said, the one with the long fingers. Katsuki righted his chair and seemed to already lose interest, like he knew Deku wouldn't fall for it, but the preparation and the idea of it had been amusing enough. To everyone else's disappointment, Izuku cupped the thumbtacks in his hands, a blush of embarrassment was on his face.

…

It the beginning of English class someone knocked on the classroom door. The classroom, which had been a ruckus of talking and yelling and screeching chairs and a barking teacher, slowly quieted. Everyone looked up to where the sudden noise came from. A student from another class cracked open the door just enough to stick his arm through the gap and hold out the note between his fingers. The English teacher took it and gave it a read.

"Midoriya. Bakugo," he called. The class had silenced and the man's voice echoed through the sudden quietness. "Principal's office."

A few chuckled. Someone asked, "What'd ya do now?" Izuku wasn't sure who it was directed at. Kacchan grumbled while Izuku scrambled to put his things back in his bag, knowing they weren't safe out on his desk. He nervously took the note from the teacher.

"Take the card," the teacher reminded and gestured to the ID card holder on the corner of the desk. This teacher made them hold one whenever someone needed to leave for the bathroom because it was already so hard to keep track of these kids. This teacher in particular had – in his red-faced frustration – sworn to them this was the worst class he'd ever taught despite some good grades on tests.

"Yeah, yeah," Katsuki grumbled and snatched it by the lanyard.

A few kids started talking again. Izuku was sure it would go back to being noisy a minute after he and Kacchan left. Their steps echoed in the empty halls. Birds chirped outside, resting on one tree branch than going to another. Pink leaves and blue skies; that was outside. They were inside in a cold school hallway that smelled of rubber and the chemicals of cleaning products used to mop the floors.

"You cried to your mom again? Snitched about your crappy desk?" Katsuki guessed in a warning tone, a voice that sounded more like a growl.

Izuku waved his hands in front of him. "I'm – I didn't! I swear!" he stuttered. "I'm… I don't know why the principal called us this time. Honest..." His voice wavered, unsure.

It was silent for a minute. "Pathetic," Katsuki said, continuing the walk of doom. "A Quirkless nothing like you crying about everything, and you think you got a shot at being a Pro. You want a chance at a Heroics school?" He placed a hand on Izuku's shoulder, a familiar move that said 'hold still because I told you to.' Izuku did as instructed out of habit. Kacchan got in his face. "Try being a janitor. Suits ya'."

There were no burns to his shoulder this time. Burn or no burn, it didn't feel any different.

Katsuki didn't knock. He walked right into the principal's office, so Izuku knocked on the already-opened door. He wanted to greet the man but couldn't think of anything.

"Boys. Good to see you," the principal said tiredly and gestured vaguely. "Have a seat, have a seat. I won't keep you long so you don't miss too much."

Katsuki plopped down heavily without much grace. Izuku took longer to sit, his knees pressed together and fists tightly curled on his lap.

"You're not in trouble. Don't look so down, boys," the man chuckled.

"What is this, then, gramps?" Katsuki asked, irritated he had to be here again, hardly worried as nothing ever happened. Talk and leave. The principal liked him too much.

"Just a few quick words, nothing more," the principal assured and wiped at his bald head. "Is everything going well between you two so far?"

Katsuki raised a brow. "Shit from yesterday again?"

"No, no. Not that." The principal turned to the boy that looked like he was about to crumble. "Midoriya."

Izuku heard his own heartbeat in his ears. Nothing was happening. Why was he a mess over nothing? "Umm… Sir?"

"Your mother had some concerns, is all. Thinks you're not doing well with the other boys. Everything's alright from what I know. If it's not, you can talk it out with each other," the man with the sparkly-clean head explained. "It's that simple. Just talk it out, and everything's fine and you tell Mom how it goes."

Oh. Mom. She'd asked before if anything had been done. Nothing had happened before, so why now? The other visits to the principal had been due to 'scuffles' during P.E. Class and English, the two teachers with the shortest fuse. Lessons were usually slightly calmer when Izuku and Katsuki were not there.

"Bakugo, you, too," the man continued.

Katsuki looked irritated. "Huh?"

"Your mother said to play nicer with your friends, okay? She told you, I hope."

Katsuki scowled and his brow twitched, irked at the mention of being scolded by his mother like a little boy. "I don't play."

"Good." The man looked satisfied, delighted, even, completely missing what Katsuki had meant. "Thank you for coming. Do your best and work hard. Keep up the good grades."

And that was it.

Izuku – and he figured, Kacchan, too – had formulated an explanation for the surprise visit. Izuku wasn't much of an importance, Katsuki, however, was. It was a well-known fact he was aiming for UA, the top Heroics school. He was very vocal about it. He had potential, the teachers had said. The teachers' opinions on him were split into two extreme groups: one side who loved him for his impressive Quirk and intelligence; and the other side who disliked his bad manners. What they thought didn't matter. If Katsuki managed to go into UA, his history would be known and his past school would be recognized for producing the next Pro Hero-to-be. Izuku's mother had complained. It wasn't a problem. Katsuki's mother complained, there was a problem, which was dealt with by the mother herself. The unfairness of it all made the worm in his gut squirm. He felt Kacchan's anger radiating out of him as they walked through the halls.

"Deku…" he growled menacingly under his breath.

Izuku knew that tone.

Katsuki craned his neck to glare at him. He looked deranged, his eyes sharp, pupils small, lips slightly curved – not a smirk, not a snarl. Izuku hadn't realized how close he'd gotten until he felt his back against the wall. The millisecond it took him to glance back at what he'd backed into was enough time for Katsuki to grab him by the throat and press him against the wall.

"For the last... fucking time. Get out of my way."

"Ka - Kacchan, I'm not–" He flinched when the hand with the capability to fire explosions tightened around his neck, not enough to strangle, but enough to scare the breath out of him. He wondered if Katsuki felt the throbbing of a heartbeat in his cruel palm. "I'm not… in your way," he squeaked.

"Like hell you ain't," he barked in his face. "Your mom called my mom cause you couldn't do a thing on your Quirkless self. What, you think just cause your mom said you could be a Hero then you can?"

His mom had cried for him. She'd apologized for his Quirkless state, like it was all her fault he'd turned out the way he did.

"Auntie can't save you all the time. You say you want to be a fucking Hero then you go crying to your mom. When are ya' gonna learn? This isn't fucking TV. Get it through your thick skull."

He hated it. He hated it when Kacchan was right sometimes. It wasn't like the movies, where wishes came true and bad guys always lost and things were fair.

"UA isn't for just anyone," Katsuki continued. "It's not for crappy Quirks, and sure as hell not for Quirkless losers. You're lower than every other Extra in this stupid school. Know your place."

He released, and Izuku gasped and rubbed at his neck.

"The top Heroes showed greatness even in their school days. I don't want your name anywhere in my record," he said, finally walking away with his hands in his pockets. Izuku didn't follow.

His record. Izuku wondered if Kacchan would've turned out differently if there hadn't been such a thing as UA. If neither of them had ended up with the same dream, would Kacchan still hate him? Would they still get along like the boys in the past playing on a seesaw?

Don't think about it. Keep going forward. What-ifs wouldn't do anything. He still had the opportunity to try. At least, it was easier to tell himself that. He had a notebook to fill, a Hero merchandise store he had yet to visit, information to collect. There were still things he wanted to do – things that made him forget and love the moment to its fullest.

He should've realized: a rabbit not wanting to be a rabbit wasn't smart, especially not when a fox was around.

…

He'd assumed this day would be the same as always: filled with boisterous boys and girls and on-campus (illegal) Quirk-use and flying paper airplanes and the tossing of wrinkled-up paper balls. And like most school days, he tried to lay low. Fewer things happened around him if he was invisible. It had started off a good day. Heroes had swarmed a giant Villain on a rampage by the train station early morning, and he had gotten such a clear view of it all on his way to school. 'Go, Kamui!' half the crowd had cheered while the other half was disgruntled over the inconvenient spot of the fight and were most likely late for work because of it.

The sounds of creaking metal and rumbling roars and beeping cars vibrated through his bones and left him feeling noodle-legged hours after. That had been louder than any cinema or video he'd ever witnessed. It felt amazing. It made his blood pump and bubble and ready to burst out of his veins like a shaken-up soda can. He lived for this. Can't wait to get home and write everything – he thought. Sitting still through class was difficult with his leftover adrenaline still running a marathon.

He remembered that one stranger's words: "Taking notes? I take it you wanna be a Hero, too, eh? Good luck to ya'."

That man would probably never know how much those words meant to him. He'd sprinted to school all giddy and light. Izuku kept tapping his heel and hoped no one would come up to his face and demand to know what was so funny.

"It's time to start thinking realistically about your futures!" The teacher was almost yelling. Papers in hand, he waved them in the hopes of getting some eyes up at him instead of everywhere else, half-successfully earning a few glances. "I'd hand out these future career forums, however," he said and threw the papers like they were confetti. "I assume you're all going into Heroics!"

The classroom erupted into cheers and clutters and sounds of Quirks: wind from a mini-tornado; rough crumbling from a flexing arm made of rocks; the ripping of clothes when someone flexed and his muscles bulged so widely they split the black school uniform, flinging buttons. They showed off their capabilities with pride and glory.

Lacking capabilities, pride and glory, Izuku didn't make a sound and lifted a hand, his elbow on the desk.

"All of you have impressive Quirks, yes," the teacher said, chuckling lightly. "Put them away, now. You know you're not allowed to do that in school."

Katsuki voiced his opinion on his classmates in an honest manner, "Come on, Teach, don't lump me in the pit with all these Extras and their shitty Quirks."

The rest of the class didn't appreciate that. "Hey, get off your high horse, Bakugo!"

"Extras should know there place!" he barked back with all the confidence of a deity.

The teacher scratched his head and briefly looked up as if the piece of memory he'd just remembered had been written at the top of his head. "Oh, yes, Bakugo. You're aiming for UA, right?"

"No way, he's really going for it? They barely let anyone in!" one student complained.

"Shut up, Extras!" Katsuki commanded, smirking and jumping up to stand on his desk. Of course he had to be up there. Of course he had to make it loud and clear – to everyone at his shoe level – that he was the one and only worthy one to reach and bypass All Might himself. Him and him alone. Don't you doubt me. Hear me. Take me seriously. Wait till you see what I can do.

And Izuku knew he could do a lot and more. Kacchan's confidence level was a skyscraper; his abilities incredible, rare; his intimidation affective. Kacchan was at level one-hundred while Deku was zero. It hurt to compare the obvious, but it was almost impossible to not think about him when he was there, in front of him, for as long as he lived.

"Oh, that reminds me. Midoriya, you want to go to UA, too, right? "

Izuku felt his skin go cold and sweaty. He'd either gone deaf, or the rest of the world had decided to conveniently shut up at that moment, like even the entirety of planet Earth couldn't believe it.

Izuku dared to peek from under the safety of his folded arms. He never imagined being stared at by so many eyes would be so… frightening. A second. Another. All at once, they exploded into laughing fits, someone even bent over himself, wheezing.

There wasn't much he could do to save himself. He tried to explain. He tried. It wasn't impossible. They changed the rules! I can still try… I want to try.

It was hard to believe he had a shot; even he had doubts about himself.

"Midoriya? Seriously? He can't be serious."

"You're Quirkless."

"Thinks they'll let 'em in cause they changed one rule. Whacha gonna do with a Villain? Mumble Hero facts?"

"Bored 'em to death!"

It was pathetic. He was pathetic. So why? Why couldn't he let it go? "It was my dream since I was little…"

…

What he was and who he was and what he wanted to be were different things. Dirt wasn't the same as gold, but gold could be extracted from dirt. The problem was: no one wanted to excavate.

It was fine. He'd try and do it himself, if possible. If, because he hadn't tried, yet. He was well prepared, though, with up to thirteen notebooks of research. He was prepared to work harder than anyone else.

At the end of the final class, kids gathered up their belongings. Some left right away, some waited for their friends. Izuku scrolled through his phone. Early articles covering Mt. Lady's debut, with interviews and answered questions. He had a lot to write down in the newly made page just for her, bookmarked with a sticky that stuck out of the page like a small flag.

He reached for his notebook, and barely grazed it before another hand swiftly snatched it.

Not now. Let me go home already.

"H – Hey! Give that back," Izuku's cracking voice was almost laughable.

"I'm not done with you," Kacchan said, holding the notebook up.

"What's that? A diary?" one of the Extras asked, grinning.

Another Extra read it off of Kacchan's hand. "Hero analysis for the future? Is he for real?"

"He's so delusional."

Seeing the notebook in his hand; Katsuki might as well be gripping his lifeline; the lifeline Kacchan just slapped between his palms and set on fire and casually threw out the window.

I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of this.

"I told you before. The top Heroes get recognized during their younger years. They're unique even when they were kids."

Why do you always bring out the worst in me? I'm trying my best…

"There's only one hot-shot worthy of UA from this shitty public middle school. I'll be the first and only one. Stop being a thorn in my side and get out of my way."

"You're gonna make him cry, man. Chill a little," the skinny Extra said, snickering with his friend who was equally as skinny.

Katsuki leaned in. Izuku kept stiff, shoulders tight. His eyes were wet and blinked through the moisture - Stop crying, you baby.

"You wanna be a Hero that badly, eh?"

The fox stared down the rabbit, teeth showing, eyes just as sharp.

"Do yourself a favor. Take a swan dive off the roof and hope you'll be born with a Quirk in your next life."

He wasn't sure why he didn't talk. What could he say? Would it matter if he said anything at all? Why did he care? Why did it matter so much? Why couldn't he hear? They were saying things, and yet, all he heard was the rushing inside his temple, the termites nibbling away, gnawing, digging, carving holes into his badly-put-together inside. The school was rumbling under his shoes. People, upstairs, downstairs, rooms next door, trotted, walked, chattered; he couldn't hear them, but felt them, or, perhaps, it was the silent sound of the entire country. It was a blind vibration only he reluctantly noticed.

He was that weak – that sensitive, that even nothingness scared him.

"Ouch. I think you made him cry," an Extra said.

"Think ya' knocked some sense into him, there," the other Extra said, amused.

Deku looked up, teeth pressed. A few students were still around, too immersed in this realistic, three-dimensional reality show to look away. Without Deku and Kacchan, school would be too boring. Without Deku and Kacchan, there would be no clowns in this boring circus of a building.

"Got somethin' to say?" Kacchan dared him. "Then say it." Small fireworks cracked in his palm.

Nothing came out of him, like always.

Satisfied, Kacchan huffed and hiked up the strap of his bag. "Thought so. Don't apply to UA. I don't want to see your fucking nerd face at the exams." With that, Kacchan got ready to leave and possibly end this episode of the observers' reality show for the day.

"No," Deku mumbled.

Kacchan stopped and released a "Huh?" that almost came out as a sneer.

Izuku knew he should drop it; leave it be. Just let it go. It's fine. This isn't a big deal, so shut up. "N – No." He didn't, because he wasn't that smart. Or maybe part of him, that operator in his brain, didn't care.

"No?" Katsuki repeated.

"Oh, snap," the Extra said, amused.

"Nerd has a death wish," the other Extra commented.

Katsuki marched back to him. "No what?" He gripped a fistful of Izuku's uniform.

Izuku's heart lodged in his throat. He backed up and hit the window.

The red-eyed fox was agitated. "No what? What, you scared to talk now? Finish your goddamn sentence, nerd. You wanna say somethin' to me then say it."

His brain was molasses, but his hand moved without command, reaching up shakily and grabbing Kacchan's wrist, the one at his chest. His vision was moist. "N – No, Kacchan," he finally squeaked out. "I – I – I want t – to try!" Earth, swallow me whole. "I want to t – try for UA! You can't stop me, Kacchan. I'm going." Everything was a canvas of urging colors. If he blinked, the tears would slip. Don't blink. But I can't see.

Katsuki just stared. Everyone did. One of the observers had a hand over her mouth, like she couldn't believe what she'd heard, what was happening. Through shifting vision, he could read the disbelief on Kacchan's face. It morphed from 'what the fuck?' to 'are you kidding me?' to 'are you for real?' in such a short time.

Then, Katsuki barked a laugh; one short, breathless laugh that wasn't real. "You want to try? Who do you think you are?" He lifted an open palm.

Deku felt the heat a foot away from his face. It was for show, he knew. Kacchan did a lot of fake-outs for intimidation purposes. He still squinted.

"You, a Quirkless nobody, taking me on?"

An Extra laughed like a giddy child who couldn't wait for his favorite action cartoon to turn on. The other chanted 'fight, fight, fight,' and a stander-by joined in. This was all familiar. Him. Them. This. He hadn't expected it to end differently. So why did it? He wasn't thinking when it happened. It simply happened.

It was a reflex that decided to revive itself.

His leg lifted and he kicked at Katsuki under the shin and the other boy staggered back, his back bumping into a desk and screeching it back a few centimeters. Someone in the background gasped. Izuku didn't realize he had his fists up.

He'd hardly grazed Kacchan's ego. A graze was all it took to set off a 'perfectionist' like Katsuki.

"You wanna fight now, eh?" Katsuki's fists clenched and unclenched. It was unclear if the wide, sharp grin on his face was one of rage or excitement. "You think you can go up against me?"

No! – Deku wanted to say but didn't. It felt like he's jaws had been glued shut with his teeth pressing against each other, trying to push the other side back into his gums. The ceiling lights were too bright. It was too cold, but he sweated through his underclothing. This didn't feel right.

Kacchan released a few sparks to show off.

Izuku was sure he heard him yell something when he ran at him with an open palm. He would've grabbed at his clothes if Izuku hadn't roughly thrown himself to the side. Dodging enraged Katsuki even more. The look on his childhood friend's face was frightening.

Izuku did rather than thought. He'd grabbed the nearest chair and clumsily used it as a shield. Katsuki ran right into it stomach-first.

Stop running! You're making it worse, his mind warned.

The kids in the background yelled something; it was lost in the mess of shuffling clothes and creaking desks and grunts and thuds of mostly Deku being grabbed and shoved about. The moment his back snapped painfully against the corner of a desk, the adrenalin engine became louder. It was a mixture of fight and flight. A stupid, unintentional switch he didn't even know he had. He pressed himself back, then over the desk, and kicked Kacchan in his mouth-wide-open face. The desk screeched back from the impact, and for a split second, he worried he'd snapped Katsuki's neck with how his head had turned so fast.

"K… Kacchan…" he breathed out, cold regret washing over him. I'm sorry, are you okay? I didn't mean to-

Katsuki slowly turned his head back to glare at him. A line of blood slipped down a nostril, reaching the awkward curve of his lip.

What followed was a collection of visuals his eyes couldn't comprehend all at once, from being dragged off the desk by the pant of his leg, to the palm grabbing at his face (he'd clawed at it with dull nails, and it released after he'd bitten it), to him actually landing a few punches, to him scrambling up to reach the doorway only to slam groin-first into the corner of a desk. His adrenalin-induced brain paid no attention to physical, yelling at him to keep going. They'd scattered the desks at this point. The door was open and a few observers got out of his way, not wanting to be collateral damage.

No explosions had been fired. This was more personal. Katsuki lived for the thrill of a fight. However; this thrill felt mindless. There was no thinking involved – no tactics; that was the scariest part. It was madness.

Indoor wind batted at his curly hair as he continued running mindlessly with no other objective than to get away. No backpack. It hadn't even occurred to him he'd left without it.

Run, little rabbit.

He didn't risk looking back. Katsuki was athletic, Izuku wasn't, and they both knew that. Through the sounds of rushing air and his own uneven gasps, he heard the other boy snarl with rage. A few students lingered in the halls; those who were taking their sweet time, and those who still had after-school activities. A girl balancing a book stack yelped when he ran by, and yelped again a second later, which indicated Kacchan wasn't far behind. Approaching a hard turn, he didn't dare slow down, so he slapped the wall with his palms so loudly it sounded like a gunshot in the halls and pushed himself to keep going, almost tripping twice. Four students yelled in surprise and backed peddled out of the way.

A crackle from behind.

He knew what was coming and braced himself.

The explosion was bigger than usual. When indoors, Katsuki often used smaller ones, almost always for the sake of visual intimidation. This one had an impact to it; either as a hasty brake or as an accelerator.

The force of the blast sent Izuku flying forward and off the ground. He fell, shoulder-rolled himself upright and went for the closest door, which happened to be the emergency fire exit. His shoe squeaked at the sudden turn. He rammed the heavy door with his shoulder. An echoy, high-pitched screeching came from the overhead door closer. He heard it abruptly stop and be shoved open. A heavy panting from behind. In his panic, while going down the stairs, he skipped steps, taking large leaps to cover as much distance as possible and clumsily grabbing and releasing the railing. The body slammed into his back and they both tumbled down the empty stairs. They crashed into the wall and Izuku got free and practically threw himself down the remaining steps, falling, rolling, getting up, stumbling on uncoordinated legs.

Keep going down, or get out?

Hearing the clapping of shoes, Izuku didn't have the luxury to think about it. His wrist hurt when he pulled the door open to the second floor and slipped out when the door gap was just wide enough for his torso. A few students parted out of his way.

It must've looked bizarre to the students minding their own business. Two boys with disheveled hair; clothes dirtied and ripped at the shoulder and wrists; faces flushed red and skin glistened with stress sweat. Both run like antelope and panted loudly, their shoes clapping and squeaking and sliding. It made people turn and stare. The runaway boy at the front was confronted by a windowed wall and sharp left turn. He looked back, his pupils were shrunken dots. The other boy was closing in quickly, running with his head forward like he had no intention of stopping despite the unmoving target in front of him.

To those watching on the sides, the next rational action would've been to take the turn; because, where else could one go?

But the runaway wasn't being rational. Not at that moment. Heck, it didn't even look like the chaser was thinking, either. The chaser's face didn't change when the runaway scrambled to push open the window farther out. His face, like everyone else's, didn't change when the runaway – in his delirious state – threw himself out. A second after, the chaser slapped the wall beside the window frame and stood there, panting. Another second, and he, and the observers, stilled as their minds caught up with the visual they'd just witnessed.

Katsuki's scrunched-up face softened, slowly morphing between confusion, disbelief, shock. The realization of what the actual fuck had happened didn't hit him full force. It came in as a trickle and his brain tried desperately to untangle the information through the blinding-thick fog of internal animalistic commands.

The observers finally ran to have a peek out the window. Someone immediately ran for the stairs.

He hadn't noticed he'd been deaf the whole time. Sounds rushed in like a sloshy river. Wind from the open window batted at his hair. Words drifted from below. Words didn't exist. Not to his mind. He heard it: the sounds that would haunt him forever - noise that mimicked the sudden screams he'd only hear at a rollercoaster drop.

All that, under a few seconds.

"The nerd jumped two floors and I stood there, like a fucking dead-eyed statue!"

TBC

Notes:

-There we go. Ended up being twice as long as a regular chapter but there wasn't anywhere convenient enough to cut it and not make it look like there wasn't more to it.
-I was supposed to work on this earlier but this year started off as a dumpster fire.
-It was a bit difficult to decide on how this part of the story should be told. I wanted the 'present' to be involved with the 'past' but I also wanted it to feel like it's happening right now. Not sure how that turned out. It was fun trying out new things.