A/N:
this is updated on mondays, but i have no impulse control and i hate leaving the last chapter as a short prologue, so here's another one, yw
He can't breathe.
His throat is unusually clogged and his lungs are aching and holy shit the air is so goddamn thickand it burnsburnsBuRnsBuRnS bUrNs—
A hand presses against his chest while another rests on his back, and he only absently registers the choking sound that escapes from his lips, too preoccupied with forcing himself to take in deliberately slow breaths with air that's barely cooperating with him so he doesn't start choking on literal fucking oxygen again. As seconds pass by, although the feeling of oddness doesn't go away - because there's something in the air that makes his skin prickle, that he can taste, and that he can even smell - he finds that, as long as he doesn't think about it too much, he, at the very least, doesn't choke on every breath.
His shoulders begin to loosen, only to immediately stiffen up again once he remembers that someone had touched him and fuck someone is nearby and he didn't even realize because he was too caught up with his rude-ass lungs —
He raises his head, only to jerk backwards when he sees that no one is there , and he doesn't even have the time to be surprised about that because then he catches sight of his arm out of the corner of his eye, and he freezes because on top of being far too pale and way too fucking small, it feels as if there's liquid fire in his veins, and—
Everything is wrong .
He swallows, moving his hand - it's too small to be his, but it's moving like it's his, and it's freaking him the fuck out - into his direct line of sight, and he tries to clench his fist but it trembles as if he's too weak to do so, and that's when he realizes that he's almost terrifyingly skinny, as if—
( His eyes turn to static, and his eyes burnas the itch becomes unbearable. )
He swallows, dropping his hand to his side.
As if he hadn't eaten in weeks. As if he'd not been ableto eat for weeks.
His gaze roves around the room, and only then does he take notice of just how pristine the room he's in is, how everything is white and sterile and impersonal and how, when he turns his head to his side, he sees a heart monitor alongside a few other pieces of medical equipment he'd never bothered to learn the name of.
As if , he considers absently, he'd been in a coma .
(Oh,he thinks distantly, mind flashing with images of an explosion of blood as he feels a heavy, phantom pain in his stomach. I died.)
He chokes back a mirthless laugh, because there are two memories warring with each other in his mind, and he doesn't know what to do .
He remembers being Katsuki Bakugou, being in a war between the heroes and villains and having no other choice but to sacrifice himself because, if he didn't, Deku would have and he was the most important part of this fight, damn it, and they couldn't afford to lose him .
And he remembers being Sasuke Uchiha, second son of the Uchiha Clan head, and an eight-year-old academy student who was forced to watch his brother kill his entire clan for seventy-two hours straight .
And then the second family name sinks into his mind, and all he can think is oh fuck, that teen had been Itachi Uchiha, and oh fuck, he's Sasuke, and he does not like what that implies, because every time he'd heard either of those names it had been from one of his dumbass' friends mouths - usually Dunce Face's - and it had never related to anything good.
He inhales and squeezes his eyes shut, watching memories play behind his eyes.
He remembers, now. Remembers dying as Katsuki Bakugou before waking up in some sort of hellscape and trying his goddamn best to get the kid - Sasuke - away from his brother and dying over and over and over before eventually, finally , his finger brushed against the kid's shirt and his world fucking exploded .
His mind was scrambled, his motor functions were shot, he was younger , and he wasn't himself because somehow, some-fucking-how , he'd fused with a goddamn fictional character .
If only , Katsuki thinks somewhat hysterically, he'd taken Dunce Face's offer to watch the goddamn anime with him , because he severely doubts that his half-assed knowledge about the show will be enough to help him all that much.
"Uchiha-san?" a woman's voice asks, her tone almost subdued. He doesn't respond, at first, then realizes with a jolt that he's meant to be an Uchiha, and he jerks his head in the voice's direction - a voice that, as context clues suggest, likely belongs to either a nurse or doctor, even if her outfit isn't exactly what comes to mind when he thinks of hospitals. "Are you alright?"
Well , he wants to say, just peachy, thanks. The whole 'taking over the body of a small, fictional child after my own death' thing? No biggie. And Sasuke's-and-therefore-his entire family being dead with his apparent elder brother as the killer? That just happens sometimes, don't worry about it.
He can be mature, though (regardless of what his classmates think), and he bites his tongue, offering a small nod in response.
The maybe-nurse-maybe-doctor begins eyeing him critically, and he's about to scowl at her obvious attempt to discern if he's lying when he realizes that he can feel some kind of energy - chakra , Sasuke's memories supplies - emanating from her. Something that makes him think of raindrops falling silently into a bucket, barely breaking from its set rhythm.
"Right," she says suddenly, catching Katsuki's attention once more. She's closer now, holding a water-filled cup in his direction, and although he'd rather not take something from a complete stranger, he reluctantly grabs the cup and allows her to drop her hand back to her side. "Don't drink too fast or you might upset your stomach."
Katsuki takes a quick sniff - noting that the water is either fine or he's going to die to an odorless poison - before pressing the cup to his lips and slowly allows the liquid to slide down his throat, squashing the instinct to down the entire drink in three seconds flat.
He places the cup onto the bedside table a few moments later, pausing briefly before speaking. His young voice is startling to hear - being both so foreign and yet somehow familiar at once - but even though it makes him feel vaguely uneasy, he forces down his unease since it's not like his voice is the worst part about his whole situation. "How long has it been?" he asks first, because even if he isn't really, fully Sasuke, there's enough of his memories swirling around in Katsuki's mind to make him distinctly uncomfortable at the prospect of asking if what he'd seen was real - if everyone is dead .
The woman's eyes soften slightly, but she doesn't try to coddle him, and for that, he's grateful. "About two weeks now, Uchiha-san."
Katsuki lets out a small sigh - both because he knows that his muscles have degraded, if only partially, and because he realizes that spending more than a day or two tucked in a hospital - especially as one of the last members of a prominent clan - would cause people to pay even more attention to him than they would've otherwise, and whether he's Katsuki or Sasuke, he does not like being pitied.
Doctor-Nurse Raindrops makes to speak up again, but pauses when there's a knock at the door. "Right," she says, glancing at him, "Hokage-sama will answer the rest of your questions. The doctor and I—" NurseRaindrops then, he notes absently, "—will be back later to make sure that you're healthy enough to start getting things into order."
Katsuki's only distantly aware that her gaze remains on him for several more seconds before she turns around, because he's too focused on the fact that the Hokage is outside his door, and he's not quite sure what to feel about that because Sasuke's jumbled memories tell him that Kages are practically demi-gods in this world, but he distinctly remembers telling Dunce-Face to shut the fuck up after hearing him constantly rant about the 'Third Hokage's' decisions - not to mention the fact that he knows that even the strongest of men falter because they're still human .
So, when the man walks in with swishing robes and a ridiculous-looking hat, Katsuki can only stare and wonder if this man will be a threat to him on purpose or by accident .
He does know, the moment he sees the grandfatherly look on the Hokage's face, that he is, at the very least, dangerous . His expression is so incredibly genuine - with a small smile that can't be taken as anything specific, and with eyes that hold just the right amount of sorrow while still holding the warmth and kindness that one would expect from a strong, dependable figure - that Katsuki figures that it can't be anything but practiced and artificial .
It reminds him, in a distant sort of way, of All Might's smiles. Reminds him that, when he was younger, he'd thought that they were proof that he was strong because he wasn't afraid of anything , and as long as he was smiling, he could take care of it , and only later did her realize that All Might often smiled because he was afraid, and he was just as human as anyone else. His smile wasn't false, by any means, but neither were his faults.
The Hokage is clearly remarkably different from the man, but they both had the same type of disguise. Both were powerful men who hid behind carefully crafted personas, and both donned their masks to keep up with other expectations. What kind of things the Hokage is keeping hidden away, though, remains to be seen.
He also can't help but notice that the Hokage feels weird . His chakra is muffled , blocking out everything remotely distinctive - making it impersonal - and disguising just how much of it there is.
As soon as he catches sight of the man turning away from his conversation with Nurse Raindrops, he breaks away from his thoughts and watches as the man closes the door behind him before pulling up a chair to sit next to his bed.
"Hello, Sasuke-kun," he greets with a small, soft smile. "I know you've just woken up, but I came to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."
One point in the asshole column , Katsuki decides, because Liverspots apparently decided that, immediately after a (supposed) eight-year-old woke up from a two-week coma after his entire clan was murdered - and when he most likely wouldn't even be coherent enough to understand exactly what was happening - he was going to interrogate said eight-year-old.
The man pauses briefly when he meets his gaze, but seems to brush it off in the next second. "Would you like to know anything first?" he asks, which is slightly considerate, but also minorly manipulative and Katsuki refuses to remove the asshole-point, thankyouverymuch.
Still, he's not an idiot, and knows that this is his best chance to get a question or two answered. Not many, since most of Katsuki's questions are things that he doubts will be revealed to anyone but the other higher-ups - like, for example, why the actual hell was the entire clan in the village (let alone the in the compound ) at the time, or how the fuck did a thirteen-year-old kill hundreds of elite shinobi, or why wasn't he caught, or why wasn't there anyone nearby , even - but whatever , he could stew on all of those blatantly obvious red-flags later, away from the Hokage that could have him killed and shoved away in a deep, dark hole where nobody could ever find him.
"They're all gone?" he asks instead, just to verify.
Liverspots' expression softens, and while he's sure that some of that is genuine, he's a suspicious bastard and can't help but wonder just what the man knows about the whole situation. "Unfortunately, yes. I apologize for what happened, Sasuke-kun," he confirms. "Don't worry about Itachi coming back, though. He's been ranked as an S-Ranked missing nin, and he won't be getting anywhere near Konoha again."
Yeah, because you did so good at keeping him from murdering your people before , he snarks internally.
"...Right," he eventually says, and he barely suppresses a grimace at the conflicting emotions that rage within him. On one hand, he's angry and tired and wants revenge , but on the other, he can't help but think how perfect all of this seems, how suspicious it is that there's no true confirmation , no chance of getting answers to the questions he really wants to ask.
Liverspots looks at him sadly, and Katsuki is confused for all of three seconds before he realizes that he's probably not responding in the way a normal grieving child would be - not that this situation was normal in the least , but the basics were the same - and he can only hope that Liverspots simply suspects that he's emotionally constipated or too traumatized to properly think just yet.
"Inoichi-san - who's the Yamanaka Clan Head, if you're unaware - will come in to speak with you in a couple of days. If you need someone to talk to, you're free to book further sessions with him," he offers. If this guy is some sort of magical ninja therapist like he's expecting - or even if he's a normal therapist, really - Katsuki knows that he's definitely not going to be doing that any time soon, but he nods anyway, which seems to be the 'correct' response because Liverspots gives him a slight smile. "Other than that," he mentions, "I suggest we figure out your future living situation."
Katsuki blinks, because there is no way this man expects him to talk about real estate.
"If you wish, you can move into an apartment of your own in the shinobi sector. Otherwise, you can live anywhere in the Uchiha Compound. After all, it belongs to you, now."
Quite honestly, Katsuki is bewildered, because he - someone who everyone thinks is an eight-year-old boy - is being offered to either live on his own or live on his own, but in a place where his entire family was killed .
He knows, realistically, that people who train to be killers from the ripe age of six would make for pretty fucked up adults, but this is a whole new level of insanity.
Unfortunately, he's about to look pretty goddamn crazy himself, because while he'd have chosen the apartment in a heartbeat if he were the real Sasuke, he's too paranoid to live next to a bunch of random, knife-wielding possible-assholes. He'd be slightly worried about the shinobi reporting any odd behaviors he might exhibit, too, but he doubts that most shinobi are well-rounded enough to even notice, so.
"...I'll move back into the compound," he eventually says, ignoring the slight ache in his chest.
"Very well, then," Liverspots says, a sad look in his eye. So he has enough sense to know that this is fucked up, but not enough to keep from offering it in the first place, Katsuki notes, holding back a humorless laugh. "As for the Academy, you'll be able to return as soon as you're cleared to leave. Don't be pressured to go, though - if you wish, you'll be able to take a few weeks off to get yourself settled in."
The offer is something oddly familiar, what with all of Class 1A's history of villain attacks causing constant suggestions to take time off, the allowances to skip out on homework every now and then as long as it didn't become a pattern, and so on. Just like with those offers, though, Katsuki doesn't plan on taking Liverspots up on this one - at least not for long. He knows that it'll give him more time to get a grasp on this world, to figure out just what he's capable of, how much he's lost in terms of fighting prowess, but .
The Academy will be… different , to say the least, and although he has a measure of Sasuke's memories about the place, he'll still be flying in half-blind, and he can't afford to miss things .
(What he pointedly doesn't think about is how the extra time would allow him to reflect. Allow him to think about what he left behind, what he's missing, and what he can't do to help.)
He'll also be different, when he returns. It'll be better for them to see Katsuki immediately, so they don't expect the old Sasuke - don't expect a little kid who's a little arrogant, but happy and innocent . And while his classmates likely won't begin to comprehend why such a change would be made - though they probably wouldn't care all that much, either, after a few days of peaked curiosity - his instructors will probably attribute any abrupt personality shifts to a coping mechanism, or something along those lines. It'd be annoying as all hell , sure, but at least he'd have an excuse.
He takes in a breath and, with a sort of wry amusement, closes his eyes and spares a thought. Look, Shitty Hair. I can be optimistic .
He's sitting under a waterfall that beats down on his head. It's oddly gentle, but there's something that tells him it can turn forceful - even deadly, if he's not careful - in an instant. And despite being showered, the water does not wet his skin, does not wet his clothes, does not wet his hair, but it settles upon his scalp - lingers , as if waiting for the command to seep through.
Katsuki takes in a breath and leans backwards, looking over Inoichi Yamanaka. He looks deceptively mild-mannered, but Katsuki knows, from the feel of his chakra and from the calculating glint in his eyes, that he is anything but a pushover.
"Can you tell me what happened on that night, Sasuke-kun?" he asks, and Katsuki doesn't miss the sympathy and kindness in his tone, the familiarity of which he addresses him, as if they hadn't properly met just minutes ago.
"Don't you know?" Katsuki eventually replies.
The man's expression does not change. "I'd like to hear it from your perspective, if that's alright."
As if he has a choice.
"Itachi…," he trails off, then forcibly shuts out the images of blood and viscera that invade his mind, "...killed everyone in the clan and left me alive." He pauses, remembering what the teen told him, just before leaving. Something that he hadn't quite thought about until now. "He told me to find him one day. To kill him."
And isn't it incredibly odd that Itachi wants Katsuki - or rather, Sasuke - to end his life? He supposes that he did mention wanting to 'test his capacity,' but then why kill people who didn't even know a fight was coming? Who had no chance to fight back; who would offer no challenge ?
"And do you want to?" L'Oréal asks, causing Katsuki's gaze to snap upwards. "Kill him, I mean?"
Katsuki purses his lips and, after a moment, shakes his head. "No. No, I don't." He can tell the answer surprises the man, even if he hides it well, and his jaw tenses.
He'd already thought about this life, while waiting for L'Oréal to show up. He doesn't want to simply lie down and take whatever life throws at him - doesn't want to die having done nothing, even if this isn't the life he remembers. So for now, he'll live it out in the way he wants to. Maybe he'll try to figure out the 'truth,' but he's not single-minded enough to spend his life chasing after one thing and losing himself in the process - not anymore.
He can't talk about any of that, though, so instead he simplifies. "He's already fucked me over once. I don't see why I should spend the rest of my life chasing after him."
His talk with L'Oréal eventually subsided into stilted recounting of events along with a few clipped responses that, while they seemed to concern the man, wouldn't be enough to get him placed on any sort of watch list. Or another one, that is. He can never sense anyone following, has never seen them, but he knows they're there - he can feel the prickling on the back of his neck as their eyes follow each and every movement, and he knows, realistically, that the last survivor of a massacre - the last survivor of a major clan - would not be left to his own devices without anyone to keep an eye on him.
Otherwise, the next few days pass by with little to no incident, mostly consisting of quick check-ups and spending some time going through (a minor amount of, since he'd not actually been asleep for all that long) physical therapy.
It was annoying, sure, but he'd done it before as Katsuki, and the nurses assigned to him were professional enough - which was something he didn't realize he'd been taking for granted until two days after starting his stay at the hospital, when he'd been forced to head down to a lower floor and had been gawked at by patients, nurses, and doctors alike with a mixture of pity, amazement, admiration every-fucking-where he went - and with the cheat-code that was chakra, it took far less time than it would've back when Katsuki was Katsuki , and he was checked out of the hospital within a few days.
This, of course, is why he's standing in front of his - Sasuke's - old house with a handful of scrolls in his hands and definitely not avoiding going in.
…
Ah, fuck it, he's avoiding going in.
Not only is he half paranoid that he'll be stabbed as soon as he takes a step inside - no matter how irrational he knows the idea is - but he's also dreading just seeing the place. Actually, he'd been stuck at the door for nearly half an hour because memories would not stop rampaging within his mind, happy to remind him of everything he - Sasuke - had lost.
It's stupid, really. The bodies and blood stains are gone, and while he can't feel them, he's pretty sure there's a few masked ninjas watching over him to make sure he isn't brutally murdered, so realistically , there's no reason to freak out so much.
( "Nii-san," Sasuke whispers, feeling a lump rise in his throat. "You… why did you…"
Itachi stares at him with an impassive gaze, and he can't help but flinchwhen the tomoe within those distinct pools of scarlet meld together into a shuriken-like shape. "To test the limits of my abilities.")
A shiver runs down Sasuke's spine, and he wants to getoutgetOuTgEtOuTgEt OUt—
Katsuki sucks in a sharp breath, feeling his heart drum within his chest.
He's not Sasuke. He isn't Sasuke, so this shouldn't matter to him. He's being weak for no reason, and he refuses to let something like this get into his head.
With a snarl, Katsuki shoves the door open, steps into the doorway, and—
—Sasuke freezes , eyes glued to the empty space where the tatami mats should reside.
(Mom and dad kneeling in a growing pool of red—
His eyes burn.
Impassive scarlet flicks in his direction, piercing into his soul—
His eyes burn .
Overandoverandoverandover—
His eyes burn.
"To test the limits of my abilities."
His eyes BURN.)
Katsuki sucks in a sharp breath and slams the door shut, hands flying up to his eyes as he squeezes them shut.
"Fuck," he whispers, swallowing the bile that had crept up in the back of his throat. " Fuck ."
He feels pathetic and stupid and ridiculous and his eyes feel like they're going to melt straight out of his fucking skull and—
It's too much. It's too much.
And he's a goddamn idiot. An idiot , because he keeps refusing to see any of this as real. He keeps shoving away every goddamn emotion he has in regards to the Uchihas, keeps denying that he has any connection to anyone Sasuke's ever known, keeps referring to the kid as a different fucking person even though he literally has his goddamn memories.
He swallows and presses the heels of his hands against his eyelids.
Katsuki isn't comfortable being Sasuke - he's not sure he ever will be - but he can't just keep pretending like he's just going to wake up and everything's going to return to normal. He needs to stop being like Deku and pretending nothing is wrong until he's half-dead because he refused to admit for one second that maybe, maybehe needed some help .
He won't get help, Katsuki knows, but at the very least, he can stop denying whatever the fuck happened to him. Stop acting as if Sasuke's emotions are less real than Katsuki's somehow, if only to help him regain some semblance of sanity.
Katsuki slides his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh. "Okay," he lets out. "Right. Moving in." He then considers, briefly, moving to one of the other houses around the comprehend instead of this one , but unfortunately for him, his rationality gets beaten out by sentimentality - and the practicality of having the largest training area in his backyard - and he decides that, for the time being, it'll be fine if he just… avoids this one area of the house. It's not like blocking off one room is too much of an issue - especially since it's sectioned off from the rest by both a door and a hallway, and it's not big enough to make that big of a difference.
With an exhale, Katsuki opens his eyes and—
—immediately squeezes them back shut because why the hell is everything so bright and why the fuckis everything in H-fucking-D.
( "The Sharingan," his father tells him, coal eyes bleeding into scarlet, "Is the prized dojutsu of our clan…" )
Katsuki curses under his breath as soon as he shakes away the memory of the whole 'Sharingan spiel' and forces himself to concentrate on the chakra running through his system. It's just as weird as before - though not entirely unpleasant, even if it'll never beat the rush of using his quirk (which, by the way, he's pissed about losing, and he will ensure that he'll be able to use specialized explosions once again, somehow) - and thereby easy to track up to his eyes, which are… Well, they're greedy little assholes, apparently, because while they're not sucking up an exceptional amount of chakra, he figures it's enough to make him pass out if he keeps them activated for too long.
He begins his attempts to somehow cut off the flow, first imagining snipping it away - which only serves to make him terrifyingly blind, for a few seconds - before going through a few other visualizations until, finally, he gets frustrated enough to go for a stupid-ass metaphor that Deku would probably come up with, and somehow, turning down the fucking tap works and he can feel the drain stop as his eyes stop sucking up all his chakra.
(He gets the feeling that somewhere, somehow , Deku knows what he's done, and he's laughing at him like the bastard he is.)
Katsuki hesitantly opens his eyes - barely suppressing a sigh of relief when they aren't fucking assaulted by literally everything around him - before he picks up the storage scrolls he'd dropped during his little fit and begins to walk around the side of the building, making a mental note to cut the grass and fix up the garden as he walks by both. The garden which, he can't help but notice, is filled with poisonous plants that Mikoto - Sasuke's mother , he things with a slight pang in his heart that makes him grimace - had apparently tended to ever since Sasuke had passed the Academy Entrance Exams, and that Katsuki hopes he'll be able to use later.
Other than that, though, there's nothing immediately eye-catching about the place, and if he ignores the phantom scent of blood and the unnerving silence within the area, he's able to keep himself from doing anything more than taking slightly quicker breaths as he steps inside the side-door which, although not great , are infinitely better than a full-blown panic attack.
Katsuki slips off his shoes and places them next to the back door, then moves through the kitchen - which , he notes with a grimace, he'll have to restock the next day - and past the living room before heading down the hall that connects to a few separate rooms. He keeps his gaze from drifting towards the closed doors of his - Sasuke's - parents' and Itachi's rooms and slips quietly into his own before closing the door behind him.
He then moves to place the storage scrolls onto the messy, wooden desk that's pressed against the leftmost wall, only to pause when he catches a flicker of red out of the corner of his eye. He turns towards the wall-length mirror - which is embedded into the empty space between the two sides of his dressers - and briefly stiffens before his brows shoot upwards when he sees his reflection.
Staring back at him is Sasuke's face - something that's unsettling on its own, but is amplified by the fact that his eyes are red .
Not red as in 'tomoe are spinning in my eyes' red, but as in 'holy shit, these are myeyes' red, which is very , very wrong because Sasuke Uchiha's eyes are supposed to be black and almost pupil-less, not a familiar shade of vermillion with half-slitted pupils that belong in the skull of one Katsuki Bakugou.
…And that , he supposes, would explain why Liverspots looked vaguely curious - or maybe confused? - when he'd met his gaze. Though, he couldn't even begin to understand why the man had just… dismissed it. If the color is permanent - and he's pretty sure it is, because this just being an odd circumstance for no reason doesn't really make any sense - it means that it couldn't be considered an odd reflection of the light or some sort of visual trick, which suggests… Well, he doesn't know, and he doesn't like it.
But at least , he thinks, pinching a black lock of hair between his fingers, this didn't turn blonde or something. That would be a lotharder to write off .
…Speaking of hair, he really does need to fix the… mess that's on his head at some point because, while it's not as untameable as Katsuki's hair and it's not as bad as when Tsunagu 'fixed' said hair during his internship, it looks like a duck's ass, which is frankly ridiculous. Whoever gave him his haircut was either a massive troll or a delusional hairstylist, and since he doesn't trust himself to cut it himself without fucking it up even worse, it won't stay down , and it's not long enough to tie into a ponytail, he's (very unfortunately) stuck with looking like Bird Brain or some other goth chicken is squatting on his head.
(Yeah, Deku is definitely laughing at him now, if he wasn't before - not to mention Shitty Hair, Dunce Face, Raccoon Eyes and Tape-Elbows, who must be cackling .)
A/N:
right, a few things to address!
1.) this is not hiruzen-bashing, katsuki is just a suspicious little heck
2.) i know it seems like he accepts being sasuke quickly, but this is gonna be a reoccuring thing (as in, katsuki is going to keep thinking of him and sasuke as separate people, even if he knows now that he's living his life)
3.) the whole 'waterfall' thing is how inoichi's (L'Oreal's) chakra feels
4.) yes, katsuki has the sharingan, but he barely knows about naruto and therefore doesn't really understand how useful it can be, so there's gonna be a learning curve
5.) katsuki has sensing abilities because i love writing them and you can fight me on that
no, uh-
dw they aren't like... op or anything, and he can only really 'feel' a person if they're within a pretty close vicinity (like, in an average-sized/slightly small room)
6.) katsuki and sasuke's personalities are kind of... melded. there'll be a lot of angry swearing, and the personality will be primarily katsuki, but there'll be sasuke moments with more of a mild-mannered attitude. also, he's not in the same world, so he can't be treating everyone in the same way, so uh... interactions might be a little awkward.
hopefully i actually portrayed katsuki nicely, instead of making him ooc, though
/
anyways
thanks for reading!