Omg have you guys read the latest manga chapter? :o

I planned only an Izuku pov for this fic, but decided to give a little insight (if you squint) on Bakugou. So in those parts, I'm gonna refer to him as 'Katsuki' instead of 'Kacchan'

Also, I wrote this while having a hangover lol

Chapter 3

Izuku fidgeted with his tie again, still not used to wearing them even after all those years at UA.

He was this close to tearing it off when someone slapped his hand away.

"Ow! What was that for, Ochako?"

"That's for messing up the tie I did, Izuku-kun!" She huffed, pulling at his collar to fix it. He choked at the action, shooting her a glare.

She rolled her eyes, giving his tie another tug.

He's pretty sure that if he met a villain with a quirk that forces victims to wear suits and ties, they might be the one that makes him retire.

Though putting 'I hate ties' on his resignation letter might make his predecessors roll in their graves.

"It's just– hng–" Izuku choked again when Ochako gave a harsh pull, nesting the knot back into his collar. He scrambled away from her, scarred hands coming up again to tug uncomfortably at the offending piece of clothing.

"I just can't breathe in these things! I mean, who even declared that wearing this means formal, anyways? Isn't the suit an invention pushed upon us by Western imperialism–"

"Alright, alright, you can remove the tie," Ochako interrupted his rambling. She glared at his victorious grin as he pulled the tie off and pocketed it in a blink of an eye.

After years of friendship, the brunette knew better than to let Izuku go off on hours and hours of muttering.

"You still have to wear the blazer, though, Izu. This is still a formal event, no matter how much Bakugou denies it," Shoto said, stopping him from shrugging it off.

It's not like Izuku wants to go buck naked or anything. He's really just more of a t-shirts and sweatpants guy.

Taking in Shoto's remark, his eyes drifted to the center of the room, zeroing on spiky blonde hair and crimson eyes.

Kacchan was wearing a 3-piece suit, complete with cufflinks, dress shoes, and a tie clip. Though, like always, he looked like he wanted to be literally anywhere else but here.

Here being his engagement party.

Auntie Mitsuki was chatting and laughing boisterously beside him, smacking him repeatedly on the back. Kacchan looked murderous, his patience wearing thin with every smack, ready to all but strangle the woman that birthed him to this world.

Izuku would've laughed at how Kacchan it was if it wasn't for the cold grip in his chest that had settled since he arrived.

An arm looped around the blonde's, with a hand adorned with a familiar ring.

Kacchan looked away from his mother at the touch, and the transformation made Izuku's heart ache, the cold grip tightening.

The scowl marring his face eased away, replaced by a gentle, almost fond look that one couldn't believe Dynamight could make.

Fujiko huffed and pulled him down by his tie, whispering something in his ear. Whatever it was, it made Kacchan snort, a small smile gracing his lips as he whispered something back.

Izuku clenched and unclenched his fists, breath hitching at the sight. Ignoring the knowing looks Ochako and Shoto threw him, he gave a couple of excuses before scurrying away to the washroom.

He swears he could still see the way they were practically– almost wrapped around each other. And honestly, he wasn't even sure why he was angry because it was justified.

After all, everyone here came knowing what the party was for. Who it was for.

He splashed some water on his face, slapping his cheeks.

Get a grip, Izuku. You signed up for this— no backing out here.

He gripped the sink, grappling the torrent of feelings crashing against his chest and shoving them down down down. Because tonight was not the time nor the place for this.

Tonight was for Kacchan. So no matter how much Izuku wanted to bolt out of there using One For All– to curl up in his bed and maybe devour a tub of ice cream– he had to show support.

Ok, support. No problem. He huffed, looking at his reflection. Just smile, and everything will be fine.

Izuku smiled, grimacing almost immediately after. It looked off, like someone just cut and pasted it.

Ok, no big deal. He was just too tense, that's all.

Coming out of the washroom, he walked around, rolling his shoulders in a feeble attempt to dispel the tension in his body.

Izuku looked around the room with another sigh, realizing that there were way too many people he didn't know and that he couldn't remember where their table was anymore.

Just as he was going to take a page out of Iida's book and become an emergency exit sign, someone tapped on his shoulder.

"You look like you need a drink."

Turning, he smiled for the first time that night at the purple-haired man.

"Shinso! It's been so long!" Izuku engulfed his friend in a hug, the latter returning it with a smile.

"Mhm, work's been busy."

"Oh? How's UA nowadays?"

For a couple years after graduation, Shinso had taken up Eraserhead's mantle in the underground scene, living up to his title as protegé. When Aizawa had retired, he had taken up the offer to teach at UA to everyone's surprise.

The purple-haired man groaned, rubbing at his eyes, the dark circles resembling their past teacher's more and more.

"Ugh, don't bring those brats up now, Izuku. It's a miracle I even got a day off to go here with how clingy they were."

As awkward as he was in their early UA years, Izuku knew that Shinso adored kids and they him. The 'no-bullshit' attitude he got from Aizawa was also a plus.

"Anyway, I'm more surprised that you of all people are here."

Izuku tensed, fidgeting uncomfortably under the other's gaze. "Ah, well, you know, I was just... It's Kacchan, so..."

"Hmm."

Shinso didn't say anything more, but Izuku could see the gears turning in his head, the flash of understanding and pity in his eyes.

Izuku averted his eyes. Of all the things he didn't like the most was pity. He did enough of that on his own.

Maybe he kind of regretted spilling his feelings for Kacchan at the purple-haired man when the latter confessed to him a few years back.

Yeah, not exactly a graceful moment for him there.

"Well," Shinso handed him a champagne flute (and where did he get that?), offering him a small smile, "I stand by what I said that you looked like you need a drink, Izuku."

Swirling the drink, he hesitated. He didn't really feel like drinking, especially in such close proximity with Kacchan. Who knows what his alcohol brain would fool him into spilling?

Then he remembers the scene from earlier; whispers in ears, diamonds on fingers, soft crimson eyes.

Izuku tightened his grip around the flute, his scarred knuckles turning white, downing it in one go. After drinking it to the last drop, he was surprised to see Shinso offering him another one.

"Don't worry. The minute you can't walk or talk straight, I'm sending Uraraka after you."

He shuddered at the memory of getting floated to his apartment when he drank a bit too much. It was like his insides were in a battle between staying in or out, which did not make the sight of his toilet that night pretty.

Yup, that was definitely something he only wanted to experience once in his life, thank you very much.

Waving goodbye and exchanging promises of meeting up more, Izuku began going around the party.

It was a mix of Fujiko's family and Kacchan's friends– though he'll deny calling them that. While going around, there were some he entertained pictures and autographs with, narrowly avoiding personal questions.

(Especially those that asked when was he getting married, because that toed the line too much of fantasy and reality)

Izuku had just gotten through his fourth, no fifth flute of champagne (he wasn't sure anymore), when he finally got around to the center of the room.

Starting to feel the hit of alcohol, he stumbled over absolutely nothing. He would've fallen flat on his face, but his feet had other plans, changing course, making him fall against someone.

Warm, firm hands immediately grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. Izuku blinked for a few seconds, dizzy with the sudden assault of a familiar smell of cinnamon and smoke. He looked up, giving his savior a dopey smile.

"Kacchan! You're here!"

"No shit sherlock. This is my party, you know." The blonde grunted, trying to get Izuku to stand straight (and failing). Izuku's body felt like lead at this point, wanting nothing more than to rest against the firm body in front of him.

"Well," he downed the rest of his drink, some spilling on his partially unbuttoned shirt. "It doesn't seem like it! I think I've met more of Takashima-san's family than you have."

Kacchan huffed, moving his hands to straighten his collar. "Well, then maybe you should marry her, huh nerd?"

Izuku laughed, throwing his head back. "Nah, that isn't in the cards for me."

Looking back at crimson eyes, a flash of– something went through them, coming and going in a blink. He didn't have time to think about it when the world started spinning again.

Ok, so maybe he should've stopped at that third flute.

Katsuki moved to steady him again, this time hiking Izuku's arm around his shoulders, his arm snaking around the greennette's waist. With an exasperated sigh, he began walking towards the hallway, dragging the greennette with him.

"Oi, brat! Where do you think you're going?" A shrill voice shrieked after him.

"None of your goddamn business, old hag!" Katsuki clicked his tongue, flipping her off from behind, not losing a beat while they walked. Well, while Katsuki walked. Izuku was like a potato sack at this point.

After closing the door behind them, the music that blasted throughout the room turned soft and quiet, with only the beats reverberating through.

Katsuki grunted and dumped Izuku on a nearby sofa, who yelped at the action.

"Why even drink if you're just gonna end up like this, idiot..." He grumbled, flopping down beside the greennette.

Izuku moaned, clearly uncomfortable with the hardness of the sofa. He shuffled and moved until his head was on a softer (though a bit firm) spot.

Oh? This is nice, he nuzzled into the spot, the warm buzz of alcohol wrapping around his body like a blanket. He didn't notice it tensing for a moment before relaxing.

It was even better than his bed! He should really talk with the owner here and ask where they bought such a lovely sofa–

"Shitty 'zuku, you better not be sleeping. I ain't a fucking pillow."

"Mm... Of course you're not, Kacchan. You're a person," Izuku mumbled, his muddled brain failing to form connections.

He continued nuzzling into his spot (yes, it's now his spot, and he'll fight anyone, even All Might, over it).

He heard a sigh above(?) him, then a hand ran through his hair, and oh, that feels so much better. Izuku sighed contentedly, his body going lax, eyes fluttering close.

He felt safe with the combined warmth, security, and familiar scent of cinnamon and smoke cocooning him like a blanket.

There was silence for a while in their little bubble– Izuku resting on Katsuki's lap, with the blonde running careful hands through green locks.

Katsuki had a pensive look on his face as he looked down at Izuku. His crimson eyes scoured through every detail, mapping freckles into constellations– stars that would guide the lost home. He tucked in some stray green curls, his fingers lingering, ghosting over Izuku's cheeks.

Well, shit, he's asleep, Katsuki swore, seeing the greennette's chest rise and fall, soft puffs coming out of his mouth.

He continued staring for a while, his hands never stopping the ministrations.

"'Zuku, I... I'm at a loss here," Katsuki murmured, doubt coloring his voice. "I don't– I don't fucking know if I'm doing the right thing. Maybe it's what those idiots call wedding jitters or some shit, but I'm... I don't know anymore."

His voice cracked at the end. He looked away, with his hand in Izuku's hair clenching slightly.

Katsuki didn't really expect a response from the sleeping greennette, though that didn't stop a part of him wishing for some reassurance. For green eyes and soft smiles to tell him that everything's going to be ok and calm him the fuck down–

"You do, Kacchan."

The blonde snapped his head down, crimson locking with green. He felt his face heating up, realizing that Izuku wasn't asleep at all. He was all but ready to snap, his defenses rising–

Then a rough hand held his, crimson eyes shifted to focus on the scar-filled hand that has gone through so much yet continues to give and give and give.

"I've never been in this kind of position, so I can't say much but," Izuku paused, biting his lip, "I know you, Kacchan. You aren't the type to go into things without thinking them over. And when you decide on something, you stick by it because you believe it."

Izuku knows, then, as he watches crimson red eyes fill back with its fire and spirit that he's lost.

Honestly, he should've known when he saw the photo back then. He should've known when he saw how Kacchan and Fujiko looked at each other. He should've known when he got the wedding invitation.

But it's human nature to hope.

So he continued to entertain that little part of him that played out fantasies when he slept. Fantasies where Kacchan would come barging in the room and sweep him off his feet with declarations of love. Fantasies, where, he would stand at the wedding and Kacchan, would choose him.

It was foolish, idiotic, and naive. Maybe that's where "fools in love" came from.

When Kacchan admitted his doubts and uncertainties to a 'sleeping' Izuku, he felt hope immediately followed by dread.

Because while he felt that part of him– the one that played out fantasies– jump in joy, Izuku felt dread right after.

For who was he to feel happy in the chance of breaking up two people obviously happy, in love, and perfect for each other?

No, no, Izuku wasn't that kind of person. He may feel jealous and somewhat spiteful (at who or what exactly, he isn't sure). Still, he wasn't the type to rejoice in other people's misery.

So he steeled his resolve, shutting down the little voices in his head that taunted at him to tell him tell him don't you want him for yourself?

I do, he says. But not like this. Never like this.

Izuku smiles at Kacchan, squeezing his hand. "The fact that you chose to marry her means you believe, truly believe, that she's right."

He knows Kacchan still feels tendrils of doubt ensnaring his mind, so he adds, "And I know you hate not being sure of things. But that's fine Kacchan. Like you said, it's wedding jitters. Everyone gets it."

"Well, I'm not like everyone, nerd."

"Of course not. You kinda need more help in that department."

Izuku laughs, scooting back to the other side of the couch to avoid the hit.

"Ass," Kacchan scowls at him but looks away, avoiding his eyes and a tinge of red on the tip of his ears.

"But thanks or whatever. Not that I needed advice, especially coming from you."

"Aw, it's alright Kacchan. No need to feel embarrassed," Izuku teases, jumping from the sofa when the blonde lunges at him.

Feeling the hit of alcohol ebbing away, Izuku smooths away the wrinkles from his blazer.

"We really should get back, though. I mean, it is still your engagement party Kacchan so it's kinda rude if–" His muttering cuts off when his phone buzzes.

Looking at the caller's name flashing on the screen, Izuku fumbles with it. He shoots an apologetic glance at the blonde, "Ah, can I–"

Kacchan huffed, standing up and heading to the door. "I'm not the boss of you, idiot. Do whatever you want."

When the door closed shut, muffling the music and chattering once again, Izuku pressed to answer.

"Midoriya, my boy! I hope I wasn't interrupting anything?"

"Ah, no, it's fine Yagi-san. What is it?" Izuku hesitated, "Is it about..."

"Ah," All Might caught on what the greennette was trying to say. "Yes, actually. It's about the transfer recommendation you asked of me."

Izuku held his breath, conflicted feelings flooding his chest. He wasn't sure what answer he's hoping for.

"It got approved, my boy."

Oh.

Well, that was... quick.

The line was quiet, then All Might's voice turned soft. "Do you still want to go through with it? It's a big decision, moving overseas."

He paused, a cautious tone to his voice. "And the motivation for it needs to be considered carefully, my boy."

At this, Izuku clenched his phone, visibly flinching. He knew, when he brought it up to All Might, he wouldn't be able to hide his true reason.

Officially, Izuku wanted to follow in his mentor's footsteps– expanding his hero work abroad. Though he wouldn't limit himself to the US, open to working in different parts of the world.

Anywhere except here, a voice in his mind whispered.

Unofficially, well. He might be capable of getting through the love of his life's wedding, but he thinks he'd break if he sees them in married bliss.

He wasn't that much of a saint.

With resolved crimson eyes, soft looks, and full smiles in his mind, Izuku made his choice.

"Yes, Yagi-san, I'm sure. Can you tell me more about the transfer details?"

All Might sighed, "All right, Midoriya, my boy. If that's what you want."

It isn't what we wanted but what he needed.

As All Might began relaying the details and Izuku listened, the greennette failed to notice that the venue's door was slightly opened.

The bell rung as the door of the restaurant swung open. Someone wearing a cap and face mask entered, looking haggard, and headed for the receptionist.

She looked up from the clipboard on the desk when the person approached.

"Yes? Do you have a reservation?"

He looked around, making sure no one was looking in their direction, before pulling down his mask.

Izuku smiled at the receptionist, "Yeah, under Todoroki Shouto. I think they've been waiting for me."

She gasped at seeing the Number 1 hero in the flesh. She was tempted to ask for an autograph but remembered her job, covering her initial surprise with professionalism.

"Of course, Deku-san. If you'll follow me."

Izuku thanked her and followed, pushing his mask back up as they passed through the corridor of private rooms. Some leaving customers glanced at him but evidently passed on with no recognition.

He sighed in relief. His public following as Pro-Hero Deku spiked when the rankings last week came out with him on the top, the second time in his career.

And he did appreciate their enthusiasm and support, he did. But he wanted to be left alone when he was off-duty as just Midoriya Izuku.

They stopped in front of a door tucked into the obscure part of the restaurant, 'VIP' listed on it. The receptionist gestured at it.

"Here's the room reserved by Shoto-san, I hope it's to your liking. And," She fidgeted, bringing out a small notepad and pen, "um, if it isn't inconvenient, may I have an autograph? My son's a really big fan of you, Deku-san."

Izuku smiled and conceded. One more autograph wouldn't hurt him.

When she closed the door, he sighed and got immediately engulfed in a hug.

"Wow! You're a celebrity now, Izuku-kun!" Ochako teased, laughing when the greennette moaned, embarrassed.

"Technically," Tenya cut in, placing a hand on Izuku's shoulder, "We're all celebrities as public exposure and scrutiny is included in our line of work as heroes."

He looked down at Izuku then, his voice taking on a teasing tone, "Though, in this case, yes you are hot topic now, Mr. No.1-Hero-Again."

"Ugh, not you too, Tenya," Izuku covered his face with his hands, his face heating up.

He sat down at their table, which was already filled with food. He was surprised to see a bowl of katsudon ready and warm for him.

"I warmed it up for you. I know it's your favorite and Mirio informed me that you'll be late." Shoto explained, seeing his confused expression.

"Oh, thanks, Shoto!" Izuku beamed, the latter nodding and going back to his soba.

A year back, it had been his best friend's year, with the red-and-white-haired hero dominating as Top 1 for every quarter of tallying.

Looking back, Izuku chuckled at how Kacchan would come barging in his apartment, complaining and whining as they ate in front of the TV.

"Midoriya-kun, you're not going crazy are you?"

"Yeah, Izuku-kun? You've been laughing while eating your katsudon, and I didn't even think that was possible without choking."

"He's obviously thinking about a certain explosive blonde, Uraraka."

Izuku choked on a mouthful of rice, a hand patting his back. Reaching for a glass of water, he sputtered, a flush going over his face.

"Wha– I wasn't– I was just thinking how good their katsuk– katsudon is! I really should ask them how they managed to make it so close to mom's and I really should send the chef compliments–"

He cuts himself off, face heating up at the knowing looks they sent him. He huffs, shoving another mouthful in, ignoring Ochako's giggles and Iida's knowing glint.

"Oh, by the way! Tsu-chan says sorry she can't make it tonight. She's camping out on one of the wedding dress sales with Fujiko and the others."

Izuku freezes at the mention of the brunette. It lasts for a second, but the other three notice, realization looming on Ochako's face.

"Ah... Izuku-kun, I'm sorry, I didn't..." She trails off, nervously looking at Tenya and Shoto for help when the greennette just continued eating.

A tense silence settled upon the room, with only the clinking of Izuku's chopsticks against the bowl heard.

After clearing his bowl, Izuku sighed and looked up. He wasn't sure what his face showed, but it was something for Shoto to set a comforting hand on his shoulder.

His mouth trembled, the wave of emotions crashing against the wall he'd built up months– no, years ago.

While he had been swamped for the whole week after the announcement of the new quarterly rankings, he was aware of the date that loomed over him, like the Grim Reaper waiting to get his soul.

For with every article journalists wrote, summarizing his achievements and capture rates, Izuku was not blind at the articles that followed. Articles with too many exclamation marks, too many bold letters highlighting the date. Articles with stolen pictures of yellow, crimson, brown, and white.

So, in a way, the announcement of hero rankings was a blessing in disguise.

While it did give the media and annoying paparazzi reason to follow him around, it meant that he'd be spending most of his time between them and work.

A god-given distraction, if it was possible.

Still... coming home to his empty apartment, his empty bed, he couldn't resist reading through the articles with an almost obsession.

Izuku turned to the owner of the hand, green locking with blue and brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to bore into his soul, his heart, freezing and melting the walls he'd put up.

Oh.

Just like that, the wall broke.

He wasn't exactly sure what happened in the moments after, but he was engulfed in a group hug by his best friends in the entire world when he came to. Their arms surrounded him like they wanted to protect him from every pain the world has got to throw at him.

Somehow his hands ended up clutching the backs of Tenya and Ochako, with Shoto hugging him from behind. His face tucked between their shoulders, tears continuously flowing, leaving wet spots. Izuku opened his mouth, wanting to apologize for the sudden outburst, but only managed to release sobs and whimpers.

He felt so so tired. The weight of everything more evident than ever– of pain that built up over the days, months, and years.

They remained like that for a while until Izuku's body stopped being wrecked with sobs, whimpers turning into slight sniffles, his tears drying up, leaving tracks down his face.

"I-," Izuku sniffs, pulling away from his friends, "I'm fine now guys. I'm sorry, ha," He laughs a little, wiping at the corner of his eyes, "I don't– I don't what came over me. Must've been the stress of the week."

"Mido–" Tenya starts, stopping when Shoto holds a hand up. The red-and-white-haired man moved until he was in front of the greennette.

Shoto kneels down and stares at Izuku with a deadpan expression. To others, he might've seemed insensitive, but the greennette knew better after spending so many years as his friend.

Concern, understanding, and slight resignation swam in his blue and brown eyes as he stared into them. Shoto really did seem like he was staring at your soul, freezing and warming at all the same.

"What's really wrong, Izu?"

Even with the question, Izuku was sure that Shoto already knew but gave him the agency to choose to open up.

And his heart breaks just a little as he looks at his friends' worried expressions, guilt and shame rolling in waves under his skin. He knew his friends weren't blind as he'd like to think.

It wasn't like he actively hid his feelings from them. Just that... he didn't actively say it either.

Even during UA, they somehow always knew when to give him a berth and when to smother him with hot chocolate and a feel-good movie.

Over the years, Ochako had become his go-to contact when he ends up in a crisis– from the smallest of things like 'what tie to wear' to bigger things like 'I lost a kid today'.

His friendship with Tenya had been rocky at first; both of them particularly stilted at forming friendships. But time had mellowed them both out, with Izuku treating him like an older brother figure.

Shoto, in particular, slotted himself in his life as his best friend, serving as a silent yet a strong pillar of support over the years. When rookie work had become too tiring, when he had lost a civilian for the first time, Izuku knew that the red and white-haired man would always be there.

So seeing them like this– their faces pinched in concern, worry rolling from them in waves, broke his heart.

He treasured his friends just as much as he cherished his family, and damn he owed them this much.

He spills everything.

From his rocky friendship with Kacchan when they were young, the bullying (omitting the quirkless part), their fight at Ground Beta, and his realizations from then.

That he had grown, quite literally, in love with the boy– the man that Bakugou Katsuki had become. That even before he had idolized All Might, Kacchan had been his star, his blazing inspiration to become a hero. For Kacchan was headstrong, determined, strong-willed, and dazzling; everything Izuku wanted to be.

That Izuku knew, when he realized this, that he couldn't get in Kacchan's way. The blonde was a star, his star, and revealing his feelings then would've risked making that star's light flicker.

For Deku and Dynamight couldn't risk putting 1 person over the hundreds, thousands, millions of others they had sworn to protect and save.

"But... Bakugou, he's..." Ochako trailed off, confusion evident in her voice. She trades a look with Tenya and Shoto, understanding dawning on their faces.

For if Bakugou Katsuki was so hell-bent on becoming a hero, then why was he getting married in a few months? Why was he resigning to place one person above all else when push comes to shove?

At that, Izuku flinched, a familiar feeling that he had locked away, rearing its head.

He knew all too well that he was lying.

Izuku had been lying for years, and that lie had festered like an ugly wound, spreading and spreading until he couldn't see the end to it.

Because he knew Kacchan like the back of his hand. He, of all people, knew that the blonde was not someone to be easily limited by such things as duty.

When Kacchan wanted something, nothing could stand in his way. Izuku knew that even with this choice– of getting married, of having a family– that his childhood friend wouldn't let it hinder or stop him in any way.

He had known that since the start of this ugly and long lie.

I was scared. I am scared.

Realizing he was in love with Kacchan was joyous, yes; it was utter bliss. For but a moment, it felt like something clicked and made sense because, oh, it's always been there waiting for him to realize.

And with bliss came fear. Fear so overwhelming that Izuku choked under the pressure of it, phantom hands squeezing at his throat and crushing his heart.

Because he was so so terrified.

He was afraid of everything that might– that will happen when the words of love roll from his lips. He was scared of what he'll see in crimson eyes, of what he'll see on his childhood friend's face. Izuku was haunted by images of possibilities and certainties.

Of crimson eyes filling with shock, confusion, disgust, pity. Of harsh words hurled at him or awkward words of apology.

What was worse was if they sparkled out of happiness, words of love spoken and returned.

Because then, Izuku would be bound for life. And when the time came that Kacchan's love for him ran out, he knew he'd be stuck.

For Izuku would always only love Bakugou Katsuki. There was only ever Kacchan after all.

And that fear– of rejection, of pity, of acceptance, gnawed at his very soul, driving him mad.

Driven at the edge, Izuku made a choice. It was cowardly and unbecoming of a hero, but he had to.

He cloaked it all with a carefully crafted lie. A lie that was logical enough, that seemed sufficient to make him not lose that sliver of sanity.

Holding onto that sliver was more manageable over the years after graduation, with both of them occupied with climbing higher and higher. With every year that passed, Izuku breathed a little easier, his grasp a bit stronger as the lie began to feel like the truth.

He should've known that no matter how long, the truth always gets out. Honestly, it was a miracle how he managed this long.

(But then again, he would've lasted until his dying breath if it wasn't for the envelope that tipped his world on its axis)

"It's– I was–" He kept trying to push words out, but his throat didn't want to cooperate, instinct forcing it clogged up.

Izuku kept trying, clutching his chest at the effort. Because why was it so hard to tell his friends? It should be easy; he trusted them with his life after all.

He closed his dry mouth, gulping before opening it again, prepared to tell them everything but–

Nothing.

He was growing frustrated at himself because why was it so hard to get simple words out? It was just a collection of sounds, after all–

His growing panic was cut short when a cup was shoved in his face.

"Drink."

Blinking at it, dumbfounded, Izuku grabbed it by command. He opened his mouth to ask why and what but wisely shut it when met with an impassive stare of blue and brown.

Even if it was poison, the greennette knew better than to not follow Shoto's command.

Though, of course, he takes a subtle sniff of it and sighs in relief when he recognizes the scent of sake.

(What, no, of course, he didn't think Shoto was trying to murder him, ha)

Still under the uncomfortable stare of the red-and-white-haired man, Izuku takes a sip, glancing back. Shoto stares at him for a moment, then nods, drinking a glass of his own as well.

Like a signal, Ochako and Tenya drank as well, slinking back to their seats. (Though Izuku's not that blind to see that they've shuffled a bit closer to him)

"So... what's being number 1 like again, Izuku-kun?"

Izuku knows it was an awkward and forced attempt to lift the mood up and sweep his breakdown under the rug, but he grabs it anyway.

He knows the issue's not done. Far from it, judging from how Shoto keeps shooting him not-so-subtle glances, and how Tenya and Ochako's ready to jump anytime he bursts into tears again.

But his friends knew he needs the space, that he was't ready. He wasn't prepared to let go of this lie just yet– to allow its comforting presence to go.

Not yet.

It was during the graduation party.

Izuku was fidgeting in his seat at the bar, fingers tapping incessantly on the counter. His eyes kept glancing from the row of bottles to the glowing screen of his phone.

He was torn between chucking it out of the window or pouring one of the bottles over it.

He sighed for the umpteenth time that night, scarred fingers still drumming incessantly, his legs not keeping still.

Izuku was supposed to be celebrating.

He had just graduated from one of the sought-after programs in the country! From one of the top schools nonetheless. He should be on the dance floor with the rest of his class, reveling in this accomplishment.

He should, shouldn't he?

Plus... Izuku glanced again at the screen, which seemed to glow brighter every time he looked as if to mock him. Stark foreign letters attacked him, the temptation to chuck it far far away becoming stronger.

Good day Mr. Izuku Midoriya!

We've received news of your graduation from UA. We would like to extend an invitation for an interview as a sidekick in the New York State Agency. We realize it's a late proposal, compared to other scouts, but you had come highly recommended by All Might. Nevertheless, we hope you would consider it and return to us with a response at your earliest convenience.

Mr. Fujimoto from our agency's HR will be flying in next week to conduct local interviews with our potential employees. You can send us a schedule of when you're free if you wish to accept the offer.

New York. The East Coast. The USA. All Might.

It was everything Izuku dreamed of. As much as he had carved his own path as a hero in the past years at UA, he still held an admiration for the past Symbol of Peace.

So this offer of being able to take the path his idol once did– to spread his name far and wide along the foreign continent was something short of a dream.

He should be happy, overjoyed even. He should be rushing over to his class, sharing the good news, and celebrating harder.

Izuku stared at the email, every word already memorized. He sighed again, pocketing his phone.

So why wasn't he?

His eyes passed over his classmates dancing like there was no tomorrow on the makeshift dance floor, no one caring if they were following the beat or not.

Izuku allowed himself a smile when he saw Tenya doing his signature robot dance along with Shoto.

Then, with a play of the light, he spotted him.

A stark tuft of blond hair sticking out from one of the booths by the corner, crimson eyes seemingly glowing from the dark area.

They were surveying the dancing bodies with a mix of distaste and fondness. Then they swiveled, locking onto emerald green.

Izuku's held his breath, unable to move under the gaze. The music muffled in the background, the rapid movement of lights slowing.

For a moment, it was just red and green.

He didn't even notice he was already out of his seat, heading towards the blonde, almost hypnotized under the crimson gaze.

Izuku was acting like a sailor trapped under a siren's song, his mind muted and body succumbing to the sweet allure of hair spun from gold and eyes carved from jewels.

Before he knew it, he was in front of Kacchan, a warm bubbly feeling spreading from his chest.

It was a feeling he was already used to in the past years when it came to his childhood friend (and would most likely be for the next years).

Izuku's betting on until his dying breath, but who's asking anyway?

"Hey nerd, you gonna just stand there like a loser or what?" Kacchan clicked his tongue, scooting over to the side of the booth with a huff.

Taking the hint, the greennette scrambled over to the offered seat. Izuku stumbles a bit upon nearing, wobbling, before a hand steadied– ok, more like pulled him down to sit.

A squeak escaped his mouth, feeling his face heat up when he realized his position.

Ohmygod ohmygod he so close to Kacchan! Like, close close that he could shift, and he'd end up straddling him and– ok, Izuku, these are dangerous thoughts to pair with alcohol. Wait, wait, what exactly should he do now? He didn't even know why he went over, but he couldn't help it because Kacchan just looked so–

"Ow!" Izuku jolts from the sudden pain in his arm. He rubs the spot Kacchan pinched, pouting at the blonde, "What was that for, Kacchan?"

"One of my many techniques to stop that fucking muttering, that's what."

And oh, Izuku hated how much that smug grin sent his alcohol-muddled brain into overdrive of another kind of pain– he smacked himself internally.

It was really not the time to entertain such very-much-not-innocent thoughts about his childhood friend– er, crush? Ha, who was he kidding? As if Kacchan would be something as feeble and childish as a crush.

If Bakugou Katsuki was something as simple as that, then Aizawa was the most energetic person in the world.

On any other day or night, Izuku would have allowed himself to mull over these feelings. He might've even joined Ochako and the others of the class to dance it out, but...

Foreign black words on a glowing screen flashed through his mind, bringing back the inner turmoil and waves of anxiety that Kacchan had chased away earlier.

Izuku sighed, scarred fingers drumming against the table again. Lost in deep thought about visas, living expenses, and oh god, what will his mom say, he failed to respond to a blonde who really did not appreciate being ignored.

"Oi, Deku, you little shit."

He froze, slowly turning, his eyes locking with burning crimson eyes.

Oh, crap.

"You come over here, I give you the highest fucking honor of sitting beside me, and you what, ignore me?" Kacchan flashed a grin, teeth showing menacingly. He shifted the hand that had flung across Izuku's back (and woah, how did he miss that), curling it around the greennette's neck.

Izuku jumped in his seat when he felt a couple sparks.

"K-Kacchan–"

"You got a couple seconds to spill whatever the fuck you've been stressing over all night is before I give you a–," He felt a couple more sparks, some a bit stronger this time, "nice graduation gift, shitty nerd."

He knew that Kacchan would never leave a scar on him (well, not purposely anyway) and that he could easily break out of the blonde's hold, but still.

Years of friendship with Kacchan still sent his instincts of flight to break out.

Bowing his head, Izuku fidgeted with his hands, feeling the weight of his phone in his pocket.

He glanced at Kacchan, who glared back. Sighing, he pulled out his phone.

"I–It's–," Izuku muttered, nerves too fired up to form an explanation. "Just... read it."

He unlocked the device, immediately being met by the email. He squeaked in surprise, fumbling with his phone.

Kacchan reached and plucked it from his shaking hands, muttering a stupid nerd, and you don't tell me what to do under his breath.

Izuku sat incredibly still. He was mentally (and maybe physically) preparing himself for Kacchan's reaction.

If he knew the blonde, the response would be– well, it would involve a lot of shouting and sparks and smoke.

For the sake of his neck, he's praying to any god out there to limit it to shouting.

The next couple seconds was excruciating torture, driving Izuku's anxiety levels through the roof; they might as well have reached outer space. He didn't dare look at Kacchan, so he couldn't analyze his reaction.

He felt it, though.

His breath hitched when he felt the fingers tightening more and more, not noticing a cracking sound beside him.

"Um... Kacchan? What–" He turned (as much as he could) to look at the still silent blonde.

Kacchan's face was surprisingly blank; the only thing betraying him was how he was boring holes through Izuku's phone. He continued staring at it for a few more seconds, then closed his eyes.

He inhaled. Then exhaled.

BOOM

Izuku's mouth dropped, eyes glued on his phone– or what was left of it anyway. It looked worse than when he tried making lasagna, which was saying something considering Yaoyorozu had to make a water hose to put out the fire.

This was– this was a brutal murder.

Mourning for his phone, Izuku wrenched away from Kacchan's hold to face the murderer, who was grinning like he'd done something very satisfying.

"Kacchan! Oh my god, that was my phone! All of my stuff was there! Especially, scouts!" He glared, fuming at the still present grin on Kacchan's face. "Now, no one will be able to contact me!"

Kacchan's grin went even wider.

"Yeah, nerd, that's the plan."

"What do you–"

"Now they can't make my fucking partner leave."

Izuku froze.

What did Kacchan just say?

He opened and closed his mouth, words coming out as gargled sounds. All thoughts of his deceased phone were all but thrown away, his mind zeroing in on Kacchan's words.

Partner. Partner. Kacchan's hero partner.

And all feelings of anxiety that had wracked his mind all night vanished. For even though their little booth was enveloped in darkness, Kacchan shined brighter than he had ever had for Izuku.

The bubbly feeling from earlier came back, caressing him like a whisper of the wind. It felt different than butterflies fluttering in his chest. Izuku felt like he was basking in the sun, the breeze tickling his skin.

He looked at Kacchan, who was grumbling under his breath and sweeping the remained pieces of his charred phone under the table. He could see the tip of the blonde's ears tinged red, an adorable flush coloring his neck.

And Izuku wondered how he even thought of leaving.

"Ok. I'll stay, Kacchan."

I know the time is vague, but i'm keeping it that way. Easier for me to move on with the plot while not focusing on the itty gritty timeline details.

Tbh, I was supposed to include a scene between Bakugou and the OFC again, but meh, I don't like OCs much anyway.

I think I'm gonna have to extend this into 6-7 chapters (instead of 5).

Again, update is in 2 weeks but maybe longer. Follow me _empressvika on Twitter