I am freaking out over the last panel of ch306 ughhhh

Anyway, as promised, I present another long chapter. I couldn't think of a summary so I just plugged that in lol

Chapter 4

Kacchan ran fingers through his hair, and Izuku hummed, eyes fluttering close at the feeling. He nuzzled into Kacchan's warm hands, loving the rare gentleness.

He felt like he was on cloud nine, cocooned in a warm blanket of smoke and cinnamon. It was bliss until the fingers retreated, getting a whine from Izuku.

Kacchan sighed, fingers moving to graze lightly on freckled cheeks. "I gotta go, Izuku. Get some rest."

"Mhm, no," Izuku reached up and threaded his fingers with the blonde's, resting them against his face. "Stay, Kacchan. 'S warm."

The blonde sighed again, squeezing scarred hands for a moment before pulling away gently. "Get some rest, stupid nerd."

Disappointed, Izuku wanted to reach out to that warmth again, but the lull of sleep pulled him back. His eyes fluttered open, green meeting crimson.

In the dark of the room, they looked like glowing jewels, a simmering fire licking through Izuku's soul. Kacchan tucked a stray lock behind his ear, fingers lingering on the greennette's face before pulling away.

"M'kay, bye Kacchan," Green eyes heavy with sleep shut. Izuku snuggled into his pillow, a smile on his face. "Love you."

The tendrils of sleep dragged him under the darkness and silence of sleep, barely catching a croaked out whisper.

"Yeah... me, too."

Izuku jolts out of his sleep, blinking unfocused eyes. He reaches out and flicks the screen open, looking at the time left in the flight.

A few more hours. He sighs, flopping back onto the makeshift bed.

That dream again.

Izuku seldom dreamt, sleeping pills already a part of his regimen. It was usual for heroes to carry such prescriptions. After all, they lived day-by-day carrying the lives and deaths of hundreds of people on their shoulders.

So when he dreamt, it was usually when he crashed out of exhaustion or when he gets knocked unconscious.

Which is why this was weird.

Having reoccurring dreams was weird, and Izuku wondered if his day fantasies were getting mixed with his dreams. Or that he got hit with a quirk (which he hopes not, because that was a big security risk).

"Love you."

"Yeah... me, too."

Izuku felt his face heat up, muffling a squeal with his hands.

What the hell was happening to him? He could still feel the heat on his face, only hearing the rapid thumping of his heart.

It was just a dream. Just one of the fantasies that he'd already grappled and locked up in a place so deep even darkness wouldn't reach.

Just a dream.

Crimson eyes glowing in the dark, callused fingers grazing against his cheeks, the smell of cinnamon and smoke.

He slapped his cheeks in a feeble attempt to stop the blush because it was just a stupid dream, Izuku, stop it.

"Mr. Deku? Is everything alright?"

Izuku jolts upright, not noticing the flight attendant coming. Some hero he was, getting distracted by stupid fantasies, of all things.

"I'm fine, thank you," He smiles, a slight accent coloring his English.

The subject may have been drilled into them in UA but Izuku couldn't manage to get rid of his accent, unlike Shoto. In his defense, his best friend had started on it since he could crawl, courtesy of Endeavor.

She returned his smile. "Alright, then, I'll leave you. It'll be a few more hours before we start our descent in Tokyo."

Izuku thanked her, pulling his phone out once she left. With the dream still fresh, sleep was the last thing in his mind.

So he opted to browse through the agency's summary reports over the past month that Mirio had sent before he boarded.

Following All Might's news on his transfer, Izuku had spent several weeks wrapping up loose ends in Musutafu. First, of course, was informing Mirio and his manager, both utterly supportive of his plans. Though he was still subjected to puppy eyes that screamed 'no don't go'.

Then, he dropped by the juvenile center.

Well, he definitely met more resistance than puppy eyes there.

For one, the caretakers and staff bombarded him with whys and how come and pleas to stay. Eventually, after explaining his reasons (not the real ones), they begrudgingly gave him their support.

It was the kids who become this close to making him stay.

It might've been Kacchan who visited more often and spearheaded rehabilitation and fostering programs. However, Izuku still made it a point to drop by every so often.

They were apprehensive of him at first, which was, well, justified since he had been the one who pinned them down and cuffed them. If their positions were switched, he would've been apprehensive too– maybe even borderline hostile.

Over the following months and years, though, they mellowed out, most of them now rushing to him whenever he visited.

Honestly, Izuku thinks they just wanted his mom's cooking.

Still, they had grown on him as well, to the point that he treated them like his own.

And if in taking care of them, he imagined they were his and Kacchan's kids well, no one has to know.

So Izuku broke the news as gently as he could, already steeling his resolve because he just knew that if he didn't, he'd succumb and stay.

And staying was... it just wasn't an option. Not if Izuku wanted to remain sane. Seeing the love of his life in married bliss would– he wasn't sure what would happen, and he didn't want to find out.

So leaving it is.

"B-b-but, why? Why do you have to go?" Genichi, one of the first ones that had approached him, asked in between sobs. Izuku's heart ached at the sight, knowing that the kid rarely cried.

He sighed, pulling the child in a hug. "I already told you. All Might recommended that I start to go out of Japan– to experience more. And he's right, it's time."

While it wasn't technically a lie, the words tasted like ash in his mouth. Lying to the others had been tolerable at best. Lying to kids he treated as his own made him feel like the creme de la creme of crap.

Genichi continued crying, opening the others' floodgate of tears. Izuku ended up spending the whole afternoon under a pile of crying kids, comforting them with promises of visits and gifts.

While scrolling through the reports, he accidentally swiped, ending up in another app. Trust his luck to make it the one he'd been ignoring.

The messaging app's notification marker was at 50+, probably more, seeing as he had been ignoring it for the whole month during his mission abroad.

Officially, it had been a request placed by the New York State Agency for collaboration with Mirio's agency on a mission. Unofficially, it was a transitionary phase for Izuku.

Even though he informed his mom about the decision, he wanted to stall for as long as possible to tell his friends.

Maybe too long since he ended up on a flight across the sea without telling them.

Throughout the month, he'd find his fingers hovered over the app, debating on whether or not to open it.

Why he hesitated, he wasn't entirely sure. Was he afraid of their possible violent reactions? Or was he worried that they'd be able to talk him out of his decision, dooming him to stay in Japan– to watch along the sidelines as the love of his life found happiness with another?

In the end, Izuku decided to just tell them in person. He owed them that much, at least.

No, he was definitely not scared to the point that he begged Mirio not to tell them he was coming back today.

Images of crimson eyes and blonde hair flashed through his mind.

And no, he was definitely not scared of telling Kacchan that he was leaving on the night of his wedding.

The train back was as taxing as the flight had been. As much as Izuku appreciated the miracle of transportation, he could really do without the fatigue and jetlag that came with it.

Some civilians recognized him, shyly asking for autographs and pictures. Even wrought with exhaustion sitting deep in his bones, Izuku smiled and agreed.

He was a hero, after all. He couldn't disappoint them.

Thankfully, there weren't many people when he arrived at the prefectural station around the early hours of the morning. Those that did recognize him looked to share his exhaustion, giving him a berth.

Even the taxi driver had remained silent, turning down the radio's volume for Izuku, which really did wonders for his growing headache.

After giving the man an extra big tip, Izuku lugged his suitcase into the apartment complex. As much as he wanted to revel in the fact that he was finally home, exhaustion overruled his elation.

On the way up, thoughts of his All Might pillow and Dynamight blanket were the only things that prevented him from spending his first night back in the metal box.

(No matter how nice and soothing the feel of metal on his cheeks was)

The elevator dinged, doors opening to the sole hallway to the penthouse.

Izuku might've expected piles of mail on his doorstep, maybe even some flowers and fan-sent packages. He had been gone for a month after all.

What he definitely did not expect was one Bakugou Katsuki sitting in front of his door, ears plugged with earphones and scrolling through his phone.

Izuku blinked. He rubbed his eyes.

Kacchan was still there.

Izuku pinched his arm, feeling a sharp sting.

Okay, definitely not a hallucination. So, maybe, a hologram or projection? Maybe an illusion?

He cautiously approached the blonde in question who hadn't taken notice yet. Digital Kacchan's brows were scrunched together, eyes glaring at his screen.

Izuku hesitated in his approach. Could holograms move? Or maybe, it's on loop? Looking at Hologram Kacchan again, he couldn't help but silently applaud the work. Whoever did this definitely knew how to replicate his glare.

He had a feeling it was Mei and made a mental note to send her a gift sometime.

Izuku stepped closer. Projection Kacchan seemed to notice him then, surprise flashing across his face. He removed his earphones, pocketing his phone.

"Izu–"

Squish.

Both of them froze, with Izuku's finger poking at apparently-Real-Kacchan's cheek.

.

.

"GAH!"

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

Izuku screamed when obviously-Real-Kacchan almost bit off his finger, scrambling away from what was not an illusion or hologram.

Holy– oh my god, what was Kacchan doing here?! He couldn't believe it's actually him! Well, honestly, Izuku can't believe he even thought that someone could manage to replicate Kacchan's ready-to-kill-you face like now, but he blamed his open mind.

Turns out keeping an open mind at– oh god, two in the morning only leads to terrible decisions that might end up leaving an Izuku-shaped burn mark on the wall.

"K-Kacchan? What– you're real?!"

"You fucking piece of shit, what the hell did you think?" Kacchan snarled, palm crackling slightly.

Now, usually, Izuku would know that when the blonde's quirk got a bit haywire, the best course of action would be: step back, hands up, and calm him. Just like what someone would do when encountering a rabid dog.

Instead, his jetlagged mind focused on the small package Kacchan held in his other hand. He stepped closer, ignoring the curses hurled his way.

Izuku sniffed.

Ooh, what was that?

Following the alluring smell, he let his nose lead the way, abandoning his suitcase.

"What the hell– are you a dog, shitty Deku?" Kacchan cursed, stepping back from the greennette who kept getting closer.

"Mmm, Kacchan," Izuku's eyes were laser-focused on the package, "What's that I'm smelling?"

"Your bullshit."

"Kaaachaan," He whined, making a sudden grab for the package. Reading him like a book, the blonde quickly sidestepped, securing the package with his arm.

With Izuku still making grabby motions like a child, they ended up with Kacchan holding him back by his face.

"Ugh, you drooling mutt. Stop already," Kacchan clicked his tongue, "Just open the stupid door already and I'll give it to you, idiot."

Izuku had never moved so fast before. (All Might would be proud)

Scrambling over the piles of mail at his door, he fumbled with the scanner for a bit. After a few curses of stupid technology and keys were better, he finally got the door open.

Izuku grinned, turning to Kacchan. The blond rolled his eyes and moved past him, dragging the forgotten suitcase inside.

"Why are you looking so proud for opening a door, ha? Get your ass in already."

"You know, this is my apartment, Kacchan."

Kacchan scoffed. "Yeah, from the state of it, it obviously is."

Closing the door behind him, Izuku grimaced at the sight that welcomed him. At the rush of things before he left (and the fact that he was ignoring his friends), he forgot to let his mom be keyed in.

Tiptoeing around the papers and some socks left lying on the floor– he'll have you know that he was perfectly tidy when needed– he went straight to the kitchen.

Thankfully, Izuku sighed in relief. At least he remembered to wash the dishes before he left. God, imagine what he would've seen otherwise.

Kacchan was already in there, rummaging through cabinets, the kettle whistling on the stove.

He couldn't help how his heart skipped at how domestic it was– with Kacchan moving around his kitchen as if he owned it. Izuku's traitorous mind came alive then, supplying him images of Kacchan in an apron and nothing els– okay, no.

Pinching his arm, he berated himself. No, Izuku. Bad, bad Izuku. Kacchan's just– actually, why was he here?

"Um, Kacchan?"

The blonde grunted, still rummaging through cabinets, pulling out mugs and bowls.

"Uh.. Why exactly are you here? I mean, as far as I know, I didn't tell anyone I was coming back today..." Izuku scratched the back of his head, "Even I didn't know I was going back today. There were a lot of delays so I was prepared to sleep in the airport– mmph! "

Kacchan shoved a spoonful of tofu in his mouth, shutting him up.

"Wha– Kwacha–"

The blonde shoved the spoon deeper in his mouth, "Don't speak with your mouth full, god, even kids know that."

Izuku pouted– well, as much as he could while chewing the tofu anyway.

Kacchan rolled his eyes and flipped him off. With fluid movements, he unwraps the rest of the package, revealing stacked containers. Popping them open, Izuku drools at the smell of miso that spread in the kitchen.

Aside from the separated tofu, a couple of green onions and seaweed were mixed into the soup. The other container was packed full with steaming rice, several soft-boiled eggs set at the side.

It smelled like home.

Izuku sniffed, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. He turned to Kacchan, eyes shining with tears and lips trembling.

"Kacchan..! You- you didn't have to..!"

"Ugh," The blonde shoved a bowl of rice and soup towards him, "Just eat already, shitty nerd. You look like shit. They been starving you over there or something?"

Izuku laughed, wiping his tears away. Looking at the meal and back at his childhood friend, his traitorous heart skipped a beat again.

And he couldn't even bother telling it off.

"Really, though..." He smiled, sincerity bleeding into his voice. "Thank you, Kacchan. This means a lot."

"Hm, whatever," Kacchan looked away, the tip of his ears burning red.

Taking a bite of rice with the soup, Izuku moaned at the taste. "Wow! This is really good, Kacchan!"

"Well, yeah what else did you expect, ha?"

He smiled behind his bowl, not missing the smugness and pride in Kacchan's voice at being praised. Really, it was sometimes too easy to stroke the blonde's ego that Izuku was suspecting he was letting it get to him.

(Of course, he dismisses the thought that Kacchan's walls go down for him because psh, that's not possible)

Taking a bite of the soft-boiled eggs, he suddenly remembers what he was asking about.

"Ah! Kacchan!" Izuku hits the table, making it shake.

"Fuck– watch the food– what?!"

"You distracted me earlier," He pouted, "How'd you know I was coming back today?"

"I didn't."

Taken aback, Izuku scrunched his nose in confusion. "What? But I thought–"

"I didn't know you were coming back today. I knew you were supposed to come back last night from fucking Mirio. Which, by the way, thanks for the heads-up, 'zuku."

Biting his lip, Izuku looked away from crimson eyes that glared holes through his face. Fidgeting with a loose thread on his shirt, he looked back.

"Ah, well," He mumbled, "Um... I was just...um..."

"Just busy?" Kacchan mocked him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just didn't have time? Just occupied? Come on, Izuku, what other synonyms you got there?"

"But I was busy–"

"Too busy to even send a quick i'm fine no i'm not dead in a ditch?"

Izuku shut his mouth, not being able to retort to that. Though, the pounding in his head and hours of fatigue from traveling made him snap, anger rearing its head.

"Well, I'm sorry if I didn't want to bother my friend who's too busy with a certain wedding."

As the words left his mouth, Izuku panicked, his head clearing from the angry haze.

Oh crap, he did not mean to sound so bitter. Honestly, Kacchan just brings out this raw part of him, and he doesn't know if he loves or hates it.

(Who is he kidding, he loves anything related to Kacchan, but that's not the point right now, dammit)

Despite the realness of those bitter feelings, still, he regretted the words. He didn't want to make the blonde seem like a crappy friend.

Izuku sighed, "God, I'm sorry, Kacchan, that was–"

"It's fine."

He stopped. Okay, that wasn't right.

Izuku stared, feeling unnerved by Kacchan's blank expression. Well, that was just... not right. He was already bracing for an explosive reaction.

This... this nonchalance was downright weird. Why were so many weird things in his life these days? Unlike his dreams-that-must-not-be-recalled, this was weird, and he was going to address this weirdness before it became weirder.

"Um... what?" Nice, very eloquent Izuku.

Kacchan shrugged, cracking an egg over his bowl of rice, adding some soy sauce.

Picking up a spoon, he mashed the ingredients in his bowl, "I said it's fine. You were busy," Clank, "I was busy," Clank, "We were both busy," Clank.

Izuku winced at the brutal sight. Alright, maybe Kacchan was angry.

Criink.

He looks at the now discarded bent spoon. Okay, he's definitely angry.

Izuku sends a silent prayer to the departed soul of the spoon before bringing his attention back to his childhood friend, whose goal seemed to be 'destroy all of Deku's utensils'.

"Kacchan."

"Deku."

"Kacchan."

"Deku."

He groaned, annoyed at Kacchan's childishness. Crossing his arms over his chest, he levelled a glare at his partner.

"Katsuki." The blonde stiffened, freezing in his mashing. "Look at me, Katsuki."

It wasn't every day that Izuku called Kacchan by his name. He wasn't sure why, even after all these years, but it felt like a line he wasn't supposed to go over. Obviously, Kacchan had no issue calling him by his name, but Izuku hesitates.

Katsuki. The name carried too many implications– meanings too heavy and complicated for Izuku to take.

But, on the rare times that he called the blonde by his name, both knew it was serious.

Knowing that, Kacchan looked to be fighting a battle with himself, losing when he eventually folded and lifted his gaze.

Crimson to emerald.

Izuku's eyes locked onto Kacchan's, searching– looking for something that would explain why his partner was acting this way and–

There.

Among projected annoyance and anger was the barest of hints of unease, insecurity, and... guilt? What was Kacchan guilty about?

Filing that away for later, Izuku latched on to the blonde's insecurity.

Because for all the bravado and ego Kacchan posed as his persona, there lay deep-seated insecurities. Insecurities rooted in swan-dives off rooftops, white-haired villains, burnt notebooks, and press conferences.

These would most likely never go away, even with all the therapy and whispered apologies in the world.

(Believe him, he's tried)

Oh, he's... He thinks I'm pushing him away again.

Green eyes softened, and Izuku reached across the table, cautiously– carefully and gently holding Kacchan's clenched fist.

The blonde stiffened under his touch, Izuku feeling tension running across his skin, the temperature rising and almost crackling under Kacchan's hand.

He squeezed harder, the familiar lightning of One for All dancing from his knuckles to Kacchan's. It was fascinating how the two quirks reacted to each other– two fires fighting, almost putting the other out, then coming together as one.

Izuku shuddered at the feeling but didn't let go. It wasn't the first time he had done this, but he could definitely count on one hand the times he had.

He could see Kacchan's body become wrecked with trembles and shudders. Once, he had asked the blonde what it felt like on his end.

"It was like... like a million fucking zaps going through my body, causing these little goddamn explosions everywhere."

Even though Kacchan reassured him that it wasn't painful, Izuku still felt a bit unnerved at the description.

"Ugh, it's just... it's fine! It calms me down, you stupid nerd."

Kacchan released a shuddering breath and squeezed back. Izuku released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

They spent a while like that– Kacchan's sweaty palm cradled by his scarred and disfigured hand, fingers drawing indiscernible patterns on the back of his hand.

"... I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said," Izuku started. He looked up from their hands and his eyes locked with crimson.

"I–," He paused, hesitating. What was he supposed to say? The truth?

The thought of telling Kacchan the truth made his throat unbearably tight, the phantom hand of fear and lies warning him. He felt cold and hot pressure tightening around him and–

No, no, he can't tell the truth. Then...

"It was a sudden request and I had to rush." Liar.

"They gave me a lot of work there, filled my schedule." Lies.

"I didn't mean to ignore you– any of you." How many more lies?

"I mean it, Kacchan." And you call yourself a hero?

"I'm the one at fault, okay? Not you." I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

The lies felt like a liquid fire that burned through his very soul. But they did make the pressure on his throat go away, giving him the relief to be able to breathe again.

Izuku couldn't help but wonder when exactly had lying become a comfort for him. When exactly had lies rolled off his tongue without making him feel sick and want to vomit– instead, making him feel relief.

Kacchan remained silent for a while, his eyes still looking at him– through him, searching and digging– for what, Izuku wasn't sure.

It felt like forever, tendrils of anxiety creeping along his spine and spreading through his body. His mind ran a mile per minute, running over everything he said to Kacchan.

"...Hm, whatever nerd. Of course you're the one at fault. That's what I've been saying, shitty 'zuku."

Kacchan scoffed, pulling his hand away and began scarfing down the brutally-murdered snack he made.

Izuku laughed, feeling a bit lighter at the blonde's response. There was this nagging feeling of doubt at the back of his head that nudged him to push it, you're forgetting, something's wrong, but he dismissed it.

He had finally dispelled the tension and he wasn't going to risk it coming back.

Grabbing his bowl of soup, he turned back to Kacchan, smiling. "So, what did I miss?"

With a grin, Kacchan went on about the recent raid he'd pull off, with Izuku eating the rest of the meal.

Izuku felt warm and settled. He wasn't sure if it was just because of coming home, the food, or the solid presence of his partner that he'd missed so so much.

There were a lot of questions left unanswered, a lot of lies left unearthed. One being Kacchan's avoidance to talk about the wedding (which was another weird thing), another was how Kacchan managed to convince Mirio of all people to spill.

And he did– God, he did want answers to those. Izuku itched to grab his partner by the shoulders and shake him until he gets them. (He'll most likely get exploded in his face, but he'll take the risk)

"And then Shitty Hair just– oi, Deku! You ignoring me, ha?"

But, right now... this– this was fine.

The sight of Kacchan's cooking spread across the table, the smell of home-cooked meals, cinnamon and smoke filling his empty kitchen.

Yeah, this was... more than he could ask for.

"I'm sorry, Izuku. I am so sorry...!"

"Izuku has two joints. It means.. He has no quirk of any kind."

.

It was a day like any other in Musutafu, with a clear blue sky littered with only a couple clouds floating by. With it being the height of the summer season, droves of people and families filled Dagoba Beach.

Children ran along the coastline, friends played in the water, with some simply lounging on the sand to enjoy the sun.

It was a perfect day.

For some, anyway.

By the nearby forest, deep beyond the twists and turns of branches and logs, was one Midoriya Izuku. The small boy was huddled under an old wooden bridge over a small stream, his body wracked by sobs.

Clutched between his chest and legs was an All Might figurine. The once mint condition toy now covered in tears and snot, a couple parts dented with how tightly Izuku's small hands held on to it like a lifeline.

On any other day, Izuku would have freaked out, immediately rushing home to try and fix the figure or nagging at his mom to buy him another one.

On any other day, he wouldn't have even brought it out nor have hidden himself in the forest. Instead, he'd be tagging along Kacchan and the other kids as they played in Dagoba Beach.

But the beauty of the day– the clear blue skies, the perfect harmony of heat and wind, the summer vibes went over Izuku's head.

Quirkless. Quirkless. Quirkless.

The word was now like a chant for Izuku, mumbled incoherently in between sobs.

Last night, when his mother held him in his arms, tears and apologies flowing freely, he felt the smile he had kept on break a little.

No, that's not what I want you to say. Stop crying. Stop apologizing.

When sleep came, so did the nightmares. Phantom faceless figures with snarls jeered at Izuku, transforming into his mother's face.

"Quirkless!"

"I am so sorry, Izuku!"

"You can't be a hero."

"Forgive me, Izuku!"

It was the first time Izuku woke up, almost drowned in tears. It was also the first time he was scared to look at his mother without flinching or running for his life. Looking at his mother that morning reminded him of phantom faces and hands dragging him down down–

Which was why he was here instead.

He found the nifty little spot a few weeks ago when he accidentally strayed from Kacchan's group during their excursion in the forest. It was the perfect hiding spot, the wooden bridge serving as shade against the elements, the stream strong enough to deter people from checking under it.

Izuku had come back to it a few times when he wanted to play with some new action figures he got before Kacchan would hoard them.

Kacchan.

Thinking of his friend led on a new batch of tears and sobs, Izuku crushing the now disfigured figurine against his chest.

What was he going to tell Kacchan? They were supposed to be heroes together, and now that's not possible because he's– he's quirkless, useless. The man in the white coat said so, and his mom said so, so it must be true.

No wonder Kacchan called him Deku. Maybe he really is useless. Broken.

Quirkless. Quirkless. Quirkless.

Izuku wasn't sure how long he spent in his hiding spot exactly, but the sun shining brightly before was now sinking, basking the forest in an orange-pink light.

He knew he should probably start heading home again, but the thought of seeing his mother's face rooted his feet in the dirt, refusing to move. It was stupid, really, really stupid for him to be afraid of his own mom, so he willed his stupid legs to move already–

"DEKU! OI I KNOW YOU'RE HERE STUPID!"

Izuku shot his head up in surprise, eyes locking onto familiar blonde hair and red eyes through the gaps in the bridge.

"K-Kacchan?" He voiced out, sniffling and rubbing at his swollen eyes. There was some scuffling sound from above, then Izuku spotted Kacchan pressing close to see through the gap.

"HA? WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE?" Kacchan shouted, his feet stomping away, not waiting for Izuku's response.

The greennette could hear sounds of grunting and cursing above, and then suddenly, Kacchan was in front of him. The blonde's clothes were a muddied mess, with some leaves stuck in his wild hair.

Even in this state, Kacchan stood tall in front of him, irritation going off off him in waves.

"WELL, STUPID? YOU GONNA TELL ME WHY YOU'RE HIDING HERE LIKE SOME PATHETIC INSECT?"

Izuku flinched at the insult. Usually, it would slide off off him, treating it as friendly banter.

But, today, it just set off another wave of tears and hurt because he is pathetic and he is stupid, and maybe that's why he's quirkless–

"O-oi! Wh- why are you crying?! Agh–"Kacchan moves closer in a panic, sloshing through the muddy parts to get to Izuku.

If the greennette wasn't so busy sobbing and crying, he would've seen how Kacchan's face was pinched in worry, his fists clenched not out of anger but fear and panic.

Izuku kept crying, incoherent gibberish spilling from his mouth. He wanted to stop because Kacchan was right. This was pathetic, but he just can't seem to stop, and it was getting harder to breathe–

Hands cupped his face, lifting it up. Through his tear-filled vision, Izuku saw crimson eyes focused on his.

"Hey, hey! Izuku! Look at me, idiot," Kacchan said softly, and Izuku might be hallucinating because his friend never spoke softly ever.

With the amount of tears he'd expelled throughout the day, he wasn't letting go of the possibility that he went and fainted, and all of this was a dream.

Fingers roughly wiped tears away from his eyes, resulting in a whine from the greennette. Kacchan paused, then continued, but softer and gentler than before. Wiping the greennette's tears away, crimson never leaving green eyes.

If this was a dream, he doesn't want it to end.

Izuku wasn't entirely sure what happened, but the sobs wracking his body stopped. The excruciating pain and hurt in his chest ebbed away, his breath becoming even with soft puffs leaving his lips.

Seeing the tears stop flowing, Kacchan stopped wiping but kept his hold on Izuku's face. They looked at each other for a few seconds, Izuku entranced by the crimson eyes that grounded him.

Of course, Kacchan ruined the moment by squeezing Izuku's cheeks.

"Alright, you crybaby. Tell. Me. What. You're. Doing. Here," The blonde punctuates his words with a squeeze, making Izuku whine.

"Kacchan! Shtop squeezhing my chweeks!"

"Nope," With a grin, he squeezed harder, "Not 'till you answer me, Deku."

Knowing that Kacchan wasn't stopping anytime soon, Izuku turned his gaze away, mumbling.

"Ha? What was that?"

Izuku mumbled under his breath, still avoiding the blonde's gaze. Which, of course, just made Kacchan pissed and resulted in more pinching and squeezing.

Having enough of it, Izuku snapped, green eyes flaring with anger.

"I said I'm quirkless, stupid Kacchan!"

Kacchan froze, his hands motionless on Izuku's face. The greennette swallowed, turning his gaze away.

"Mom brought me to a d-doctor yesterday and he– he took some pictures of my bones and," his throat clogged up, fingers clutching the previously forgotten figurine, "And he told me that I'm– I'm–"

"Quirkless." Kacchan's voice was unnaturally soft when he spoke the word that had delivered blow after blow on Izuku.

But for some reason, the way Kacchan said it didn't feel like what phantom figures wearing his mom's face did when they said it.

Maybe because when Izuku brought his gaze back to his friend, there was no disgust or pity. Just a thoughtful expression on his face. And wow, did that make the pressure on his chest disappear, and he could breathe.

"That why you been hiding here and crying, ha?"

Izuku flushed with shame. He bit his trembling lip, nodding, "It's– It's more than that, Kacchan, I...!"

Fingers clutched the All Might figurine tighter, small knuckles turning white.

"I..." A sob escapes him, "I can't be a hero anymore, Kacchan!"

Izuku wanted to curl up into a ball, but steady hands holding his face stopped him.

Insecurities bred from his nightmares curled around his chest, snaking around his throat. Izuku couldn't breathe, and it hurts, and someone help me–

"Who the hell said that, huh? Who the hell said that you need to have a quirk to be a hero, 'zuku?!"

Oh. Oh.

The choking tendrils retreated; the pressure on his throat was gone, making him breathe again. Izuku gaped at Kacchan, green eyes shining with tears, relief, and admiration.

Kacchan brought his face closer, their foreheads almost touching. Crimson eyes locked with emerald green.

Izuku didn't dare breathe nor blink.

"You can be the best freaking hero if you work for it, shitty Deku! Don't let stupid extras or doctors tell you otherwise," Kacchan declared with a split-eating grin.

His grin and confidence were contagious, Izuku mirroring it with a wobbly smile.

"R-really? I can still be a hero with you, Kacchan? Promise?"

Kacchan huffed, squeezing Izuku's cheeks again.

"Didn't ya hear me the first time, idiot?"

A warm bubbly feeling filled his chest then, Izuku not entirely sure what it was. But it was nice and warm and tickled his heart like when his mom would hug and smile at him.

"Okay! That's a promise, Kacchan!" He linked one of his pinkies with Kacchan's, his wobbly smile turning into a wide one.

The blonde blinked at him for a few moments, then snatched his hands back, spluttering. The tip of his ears was tinged red, a flush working its way from his neck up.

"W-whatever! Let's just go already! Auntie's been worried sick," Kacchan turned to go but stopped when a hand grabbed at his shirt.

"Wait, Kacchan! I–"Izuku mumbled, "My legs won't work..."

"Agh, dammit!" Kacchan ignored Izuku's that's a bad word!, offering his back to the greennette, "Fine, this is better anyway since you walk so slow, stupid."

On the way back, Izuku marvelled at the almost golden hue of the forest– from the leaves to even the rocks had sheens making them seem mystical. Distracted by the colors, he missed what his friend said.

"What was that, Kacchan?" Izuku leaned closer, his face almost tucked into the crook of his friend's neck. Kacchan staggered, spitting out curses, before continuing to walk.

"I said," He grumbled, "That if those extras don't recognize you as a hero, then..."

"Then...?"

Kacchan coughed, red creeping along his neck.

"Then I'll just marry you. So I can protect you and crap, idiot 'zuku."

"Mhm..." Izuku nuzzled against Kacchan's back, feeling exhaustion dragging his body to sleep.

"M'kay, Kacchan. I'll marry you..."

Ah yes, the innocence of childhood. Times were easier then.

The food mentioned are:

味噌汁とご飯 (miso soup and rice) - It's like the go-to food when coming back to Japan after a long time or when they're homesick

味付け卵 (ramen eggs) - because Izuku needs protein

卵かけ御飯 (TKG) - The snack Bakugou brutally made lol. Figures if he's gonna eat fast food in this fic, it might as well be healthy.

Quotes are from Ch1 of the manga. I cannot stress the struggle in writing a kid Bakugou who does not swear like a sailor