- Inspired by Mourning by SilentJo over at AO3 -

BkDk die in each other's arms during a battle. As Japan mourns their deaths, their friends and family clean out their apartment and discover they were a couple.

Hi,

first I want to thank SilentJo for allowing me to use the prompt for Mourning, if you haven't given it a read yet be sure to check it out!

This was supposed to be a quick one-shot, but it ran away from me. I've been angsty these past few days as I'm sure you'll be able to tell. I wanted to sit on this a little longer, it's right out of the oven, but my self-control isn't working well tonight, please forgive any mistakes -I'll be sure to come back before the next chapter.

Enjoy :)


Ochako remembers the first time she seriously faced Katsuki Bakugou in combat. Her former classmate had been fast - in both body and mind, merciless and vicious. There had been no hesitation about her gender, no gauging her ability, no tiptoeing in that arena. Bakugou had come for her just as hard as he'd come for anyone, set on winning and winning right.

Facing Izuku was different. Izuku was a sweetheart. He needed to be talked into going all out in sparring - and having seen him spar with Bakugou - Uraraka knows why she's often the winner of their spars. In training, he overthinks and murmurs and worries; he offers excellent feedback, but he's never pushed Ochako like Kirishima or Bakugou or even Tenya. Until he's in the field. Then, Deku becomes the eye of a hurricane, going above and beyond anything she's ever seen from him anywhere. Unstoppable.

Top 3 Hero Duo: Ground Zero and Deku.

Uraraka stares numbly at the back of her closet where her array of mourning clothes hides, and tries to wrap her head around the idea that the strongest people she's ever known are dead.


On the day of, Jirou is handling the comms. She's done it hundreds upon hundreds of times before. Still, today, she's entirely in charge of the entire Disaster Coordination Communication Division (DCCD). She's one of the youngest heroes ever put in command of it, without mentioning the magnitude of the disaster taking place.

It's the League because of course it is.

Shigaraki and his cronies laid low for a couple of years, just as Jirou and her classmates graduated, but they'd slowly started reappearing in the last year. Worrisomely, an army of Nobu's seemed ever-growing.

The battle passes in a blur, nothing reaches past the frontlines, and Jirou loses herself in waves of sound and speakers and the crackling of radio. She helps direct heroes and medical care as she updates the heroes on villains' numbers, locations, and opponents, along with 4 other sidekicks.

Dabi goes down to Todoroki and Asui.

Toga Himiko is taken down by a rookie as she tries to sneak into the makeshift hospital set up three blocks away.

The vast majority of heroes on duty are evacuating civilians and rescuing them from the ever-present property damage.

"Earphone Jack!" The voice is demanding, intense, and it takes the overwhelmed Jirou a moment to place who it is.

"Deku!"

"I have engaged Shigaraki in combat," static bursts forth. "I'm taking him as far away from people as I can."

Shigaraki's ability to spread his decay through living beings has gotten fiercer than ever, and he'd managed to avoid capture more than once by decimating people by the dozen. Midoriya's quick thinking of isolating the villain was the order given to anyone willing to engage the villain's leader in combat. (And yes, it was optional.)

"Uptown should be deserted. I'll be sending backup."

"If you can spare it."

"Yes, yes," Jirou dismisses, "you and Bakugou are cut from the same cloth; I'll see if I can get him through. Both comms working?"

"It's a…" Static and the sounds of destruction intermingle. If Jirou wasn't a pro and used to sudden noises threatening to defean her, she would flinch. She never hears what Deku answers, but she takes her chances and takes it as a no.

"Hold on there, Midoriya," but he gives her no answer. Not that it surprises her, he's clearly busy.

She contacts Bakugou and then Lemillion. It feels like overkill, but better safe than sorry and all that.

.

.

.

The next update she gets on Midoriya comes from Lemillion, much later than she was expecting it. The number one hero had been delayed by a Nomu on the way and had lost precious time to reach the Wonder Duo. Anxious, Jirou has just dispatched Ingenium to the scene since Bakugou and Midoriya fail to report -he's tried, but she can spare him for the moment now that the battle seems to be dying down. Lemillion's message echoes in the public channel.

"Shigaraki Tomura and the three Nomus fighting with him are down." Three Nomus?! The horror bleeds out only for Jirou's heart to soar; the succor is blinding. She even misses the trembling in the number one hero's voice, until "so are heroes Deku and Ground Zero."


Out of their friends, Kirishima sees Bakugou last. His friend had been sooty and grouchy, hyper-focused like he always was when they were in a fight. The streets were burnt and destroyed, and behind his usual sneer, he hadn't looked particularly worried. He'd reached a hand to his comm, palming dust and dirt out of his hands. He was nodding at a voice Kirishima couldn't hear. Midoriya and Katsuki had their own frequency, and even if they didn't, Kirishima's own comm was a bust anyway.

"Whatever, nerd," Katsuki huffed out, eyes in the distance as the quiet of their clean district settled over them. He frowned lightly, his other hand rose, and Kirishima remembered that his second earpiece was connected to the general channel. "I'm with Red Riot," he gave Kirishima a look. The chivalrous hero was tired, but he'd be good to go in a second. He just needed to shake off the trance of exhaustion trying to blanket him off to dreamland. Nothing foreign for a pro-hero. He gave Katsuki a thumbs up to answer his raised brow, and the explosive hero only rolled his eyes. "Yep, he'll be on his way." Kirishima nodded even though whoever Katsuki was talking to couldn't see him. "Me? No, Deku needs backup." His scowl darkened. "I don't care what he said." With that, either the other person agrees, or Katsuki cuts them off because he takes the earpiece out. "Don't piss me off." It's unclear if their comms director of the day hears him.

"Zero?" Kirishima questions as the bright orange earpiece is handed to him.

"Take it, Deku will keep me in the loop anyway, and they need you downtown. Yours is gone, right?" Eijirou nods a little slowly, always impressed with Bakugou's particular brand of aggressive helpfulness as he chucks the comms in his direction.

When they first became heroes, things like 'take care' and 'stay safe' and 'kick ass' were recurrent and overused. Seven years in, no matter the catastrophe, it was all just par for the course, just another day at work. When Katsuki saluted him mockingly and left with a 'don't die, Shitty Hair,' it's an occurrence that Eijirou has lived through hundreds of times.

It's the last time he sees his friend.


Izuku remembers the first time he saw a Nomu, he'd been a child. The creature had almost killed Aizawa-sensei, almost done away early with All Might. The Nomu from USJ looked like a baby compared to what Izuku faces now, all while dodging Shigaraki's swiping death at him.

"I'll handle Hand Freak. Can you take down those things?" Kacchan's arrival several minutes ago had managed to turn the tide against Shigaraki and his minions. He's an injection of adrenaline, an explosion of confidence, and his mere presence recharges Izuku's dwindling strength. His suggestion chafes at Izuku, but the truth is that they'd discussed this: Kacchan's quirk allows for a lot more finesse and power from a distance. Izuku's shoot style is too much a risk against someone whose very touch kills.

Izuku determines the surprise second Nomu is what does them in. But it's most probably the third.

He and Kacchan are the superior fighters, but they're cornered and exhausted from working on mitigating the attacks all morning. Shigaraki is expending a lot less energy than them as he maneuvers himself flawlessly from in between his experiments.

Izuku has never wished for any backup other than Kacchan before. Stiloday, his eyes stray to the horizon, far away where the primary attacks occurred, and wishes for a figure. I am here. Izuku tries to reach Jirou, but only his channel with Kacchan seems to be working, and Kacchan gave his own earpiece away. Izuku tries not to think that such an innocuous choice might cost them their lives.

He shakes off his anxiousness. Negative thoughts aren't uncommon for him, intrusive and debilitating. It's all par for the course of living with the weight of the world on your shoulders. Such thoughts don't even phase Izuku anymore unless he entertains them. He lets the ominous feeling wash over him. Kacchan is with him, and they're going to kick ass -like they always do. Backup is more likely on the way anyway.

Ten minutes later, Shigaraki goes down.

It's a desperate play, two-timing him while trying to dodge around the Nomu, but it works. Izuku's cheek dissolves under his last touch, an agonizing liquid burning as part of his face literally melts off, but the Decay user goes down and doesn't get back up. It'd been a risky move. Izuku takes one look at Kacchan's self-satisfied smirk as he keeps his weight on his good thigh. Shigaraki grazed the other one before.

Their gamble doesn't pan out.

Even as their leader goes down, the three Nomu - mostly unharmed - stare Izuku and Kacchan down. Izuku has the sudden urge to tell Katsuki he loves him, but he doesn't. He's a UA Graduate, part of the Wonder Duo. The upcoming Symbol of Hope and the youngest hero to ever hold the number one spot of approval rating. All Might's Legacy. Ground Zero's hero partner.

Izuku will not go down without a fight, and he will not give up until things are irrevocably through.

"Deku, we're going to need help with these things." Kacchan's eyes are dead serious, his intention clear, but the Nomu do not allow either of them to exit the deserted street they've made a battlefield. Izuku has never run away from combat, and it's a desperate, sinking realization just how difficult it truly is. He makes an opening for Kacchan, yelling with his abused throat, his cheek aching as he mouths the words.

Get backup!

Fuck off, is the scathing reply.

Kacchan makes an opening for him.

You're faster!

But Izuku notices his shaking arms. Kacchan is covered in soot, bleeding in more than one place, and Izuku can't leave Kacchan here. He can't.

In a show of being - at the core - more similar than the public gives them credit for, they both refuse to take the opening made by the other. Prideful fools in love that they are. They've never talked about, how does one even open such a conversation? The emotion rings true for both of them at that moment, and it requires now words.

We're either getting out of this together, or we're not getting out at all.

Izuku understands that it'd be smarter to take the opening Katsuki gives him and run for help, but they're barely holding on with both of them. Staying behind against all three Nomu is a death sentence. Izuku can't do it.

Let's take the fuckers down, Deku!

Yes!


Aoyama manages their funeral.

Back in high school, the ever-smiling, sparkle-advocate being in charge of such a gloomy, solemn event might have raised some eyebrows. However, the truth is that ever since retiring from hero work, their classmate dedicates himself to honoring fallen heroes. It's a sobering job but one he carries dutifully to avoid loved ones' pain while also meeting the masses' sometimes insensitive need for closure. When a hero dies, a country mourns. It's a delicate balance between offering close family and friends privacy, honoring the fallen in ceremonies befitting their accomplishments and sacrifices, and acknowledging and thanking the public's need to grieve for the idols and saviors who feel nothing like strangers to them.

Planning a funeral is never truly enjoyable, Aoyama takes pleasure in doing his best work and helping as many grievers as he can, but it hardly grants the aftertaste of victory he'd chased back at UA. Planning the funeral of his former classmates, though, is a whole new shade of grief Aoyama could have done without. He eyes the bottle of wine on the decorative table of his unnecessarily broad office. He only ever drinks when meeting with clients or when one of his friends pays him a visit, never by himself, but it'd be a lie to say he's not considering that maybe a glass of Merlot may warm some of the cold seeping into his bone. He sighs; he might as well get to it. He looks down at the folder and wills sitting open on his desk; it holds Bakugou and Izuku's last requests and guidelines. Aoyama remembers sitting in on that meeting, a routine he's had with most heroes he went to school with. There was Merlot then.

It had never struck home that this often theoretical conversation would and could eventually come to pass.

"Bakugou, Izuku, what should I do if - well, if you go together?"

The thought hadn't occurred to either of them, both turning to look at the other with searching eyes. Bakugou smirked cockily.

"Pray, clearly, because the city would be doomed."

"Kacchan!" Midoriya scolded, towering over the other two men in the room but holding on to freckled cheeks, as easily embarrassed as ever. "Don't say that."

"It's true," his partner shrugs, massive shoulders bare in the grey tank top he's sporting, a contrast to Izuku's pale blue sweater. They're both in civilian clothing, a rarity for the overworking Wonder Duo.

"There's plenty of amazing heroes working in this city, Kacchan!"

"I don't see anyone picking up our slack," he dismisses, but by the smirking, Aoyama rather thinks Bakugou's just trying to rile Izuku up. To grand success, one might add.

"What!? No! Shouto's still ranking above us! And Ochako and Tsu's agency has gotten so popular for rescue and Iida…!"

Aoyama has always been easily amused, but he's grown particularly fond of Midoriya and Bakugou's antics through the years. It's hard to believe sometimes how they started, back when Midoriya was a ball of pure anxiety in need of cheese in his life and Bakugou was an explosion of rage with a need for class and anger management and a friend. They'd both needed friends, actually.

"Other than praying, mon Cherie," Aoyama intervenes quickly. From experience, he's aware of how much the conversation can become derailed with these two and their bickering; their interviews faux pas were infamous. Midoriya's gaze swivels to meet Bakugou's eyes, and something unspoken happens between them. Aoyama waits patiently.

"One ceremony," Midoriya settles on, "and," at this, he peeks at Bakugou's stoic facade once before continuing, "we'd like to be buried together." Aoyama sneaks a glance at Bakugou, but the pro's face is as impassive as before. How they discussed this silently in front of him is a mystery, but they seem to be in agreement, so Aoyama doesn't question it.

Things like this are precisely why some people think they're dating. Aoyama doesn't ask though, he's always thought Bakugou and Midoriya have had their own thing happening.

"Fantastique. Now," he pushes them forward, "about eulogies…"


Katsuki can't feel his legs.

He's not sure if it's because something in him is broken or if they're gone, or maybe that's how death begins, creeping in and taking your soul from out of you through the tip of your toes. He doesn't give the impediment much thought, probably because he can barely focus on any one thing other than a feeling of complete wrongness. The world is spinning around him, and he needs a really long nap; there's pain on his face where the villain landed a hit, and he thinks some blood slides into his mouth. He tries to spit it out, but none of his muscles seem to respond the way he wants them to.

The only thing he thinks about is Deku.

It takes everything and more to raise his head from where it aches against the floor. Deku is close, but too far. Katsuki has no doubt that his legs won't support him. He tries to call out to him, but when he deepens his breath to yell, his entire chest burns, and he fears he'll suffocate. The air becomes trapped, erupting in violent blood-smeared coughing that sends shivers of agony down his spine.

Katsuki thinks he might pass out for a moment, but it could've been a year for all he knows.

Deku.

If someone had ever told 15-year-old Bakugou Katsuki that he was going to ever crawl his way to his childhood friend, you'd have earned yourself a free explosion directly to the face. Now? Katsuki doesn't spare a thought to his pride or his image or his self-centeredness. He doesn't even pay attention to his pain or the way his back feels like it's made out of shattered glass. He just needs to get to Deku.

Like Ears told him, Uptown is deserted. There's a fire nearby; Bakugou thinks he might've done that. He hopes it's one of the Nomu burning to death. The air smells heavy, like thunder, and Katsuki's not sure if the dimmed lighting is the time of day, the cloudy skies, or his own injuries playing tricks on him.

My quirk doesn't work as well when it rains, he thinks to himself uselessly.

Wait, no, he tries to focus on the red walls and the... the glass.

He's... not outside anymore, right.

Katsuki's pure muscles, something he's always been proud of. As he digs his palms into the ridges of the broken floor, gaps like spiderwebs pong crystal. Legs useless behind him, all he can think about is that he's so stupid, goddamn heavy.(He doesn't look back to his legs, he physically can't, and it doesn't matter anyway.) Reaching Deku's form, where he's sprawled over a broken exhibit of what was probably a dinosaur skeleton, takes forever. He hasn't moved since Katsuki remembers seeing him last.

The first Nomu got thrown down the sewers, overflown from a leak somewhere further down, the creature was carried off to who knows where. (Katsuki needs to report that.) Deku's Black Whip eviscerated another one just as Katsuki gets rag-dolled into a fire hydrant, and he's one second too slow in recuperating. He doesn't see what happens, but he's not sure he's desperate to understand what could possibly make Deku scream like that as he's tossed inside a museum nearby by the last Nomu. He breaks right through solid concrete.

Katsuki should focus on the remaining Nomu, but instead, he throws out an AP Shot - nothing but a distraction for the overpowered monster - and blasts himself after his partner. A foolish choice that tells Katsuki they haven't been thinking right. His vision swims, and it's pure muscle memory - and not any understanding of direction - that allows Katsuki to try to reach Deku. Katsuki catches sight of the pile of rubble he's lying on, and the next thing he knows, he's blasting himself away from the Nomu's grip. A second after and he would've been done for too soon. Katsuki looks the creature dead in the eye as he blows both gauntlets off.

And so, he reawakens to fire ash and fancy-ass paintings, his ears are used to his explosions but they still buzz in protest. Katsuki crawls, faint and dizzy. Unaware and ignorant of the force of the explosion breaking the last two disks of his back. His legs are fine, mostly unharmed, and weigh a ton as Katsuki's fingers dig into what might've been classical tile but are nothing but shards and dust beneath trembling fingers.

It might take him an eternity, but Katsuki reaches Deku. His last screams are at the forefront of his mind.

Deku's entire right arm, the one with surgery and endless hours of therapy and extra equipment invested in it, is just… gone. The stump bleeds sluggishly and fuck, that's a lot of fucking blood. His entire cheek is flayed open from Hand Freaks final, and even as he pants with his lips barely open, Katsuki catches glimpses of his teeth and his tongue inside his mouth. He's seen Deku hurt. He's seen Deku dying.

He clings on to the rise and fall of his chest to try to reassure himself that he's not seeing Deku dead, no matter how unreal it is that he's not on the other side already.

Deku will be okay. He will be.

For an entire minute, Katsuki just holds himself, arms trembling as wreckage dust sinks like poison into his raw palms and his decayed elbow. He'd used both of his gauntlets in the fighting, in a move he cannot believe he survived. It's good that Katsuki doesn't have them. In the condition upon waking, he would've never been able to take them off. He looks down upon Deku; most of the fighting is fuzzy in his memories, and he's struggling as reality seems to come and go with each breath. Katsuki could've sworn they were outside a moment ago... He's having trouble putting together what actually happened, but he clings on to the belief that the fighting is done.

Katsuki looks down on Deku, remembers him screaming out in pain as he tried to reach him. How did it end up like this?

'Izuku,' the first time he tries calling for him, nothing comes out. Emotion or pain or something else clogs his throat, like grease sticking to the roof of his mouth. Deku is beaten up, bleeding out, one big bruise of mutilated tissue. If someone looked up 'sacrifice' in the dictionary, Deku's anxious breathing and his brows crinkled in pain is what they'll find. Katsuki' just two feet away, but the other hasn't noticed him. He tries again, but he can't carry himself any further.

"Deku."

"Ka... cchan," Izuku's eyes flutter, his green eyes are glassy, and Katsuki thinks he might be crying. Shock or pain, probably both. Katsuki watches as he takes stock of his state, how he immediately averts his eyes from the stump, how he bites his lip to avoid crying out.

"Deku." Nothing is okay. Katsuki is in agony. He lays almost next to Deku, a little further down but unable to get closer even though he tries. His arms just can't push him up anymore. Izuku seems to calm himself down some, his left arm reaching out to cup Katsuki's face, the movement is so slow that Katsuki's eyes fall close and he startles when cold fingers press on his cheek.

"K... Kacchan," Izuku sounds a little surer now, slightly more awake. It almost makes Katsuki smile as he lets some of the pain bleed away in Izuku's touch. Deku will be okay. He will be. "You need... to take it."

Any suspension of peace Katsuki enjoyed shatters.

"Fuck... you."

"You promised... me, Kac-." but he doesn't finish because air runs short. It only makes his pleading more unfair. Izuku's bleeding palm smears his lips, and Katsuki isn't even surprised that wetness trails down his cheeks. It's disgusting and all levels of fucked up. It pains Katsuki more than anything he's ever had to do as his tongue pokes out to lap at Izuku's blood: ingesting the DNA offering One For All.

He might've envied it a lifetime ago, but Katsuki's never fucking wanted it in his entire life.

He knew what it'd mean if he ever got it.

"Thank you."

Izuku's voice breaks, soft and so very much like him, grateful and in awe of Katsuki to the very end. Even though Katsuki couldn't protect him. The blonde knows grief. He knows shame and defeat but never has his heart torn out his fucking chest taking oxygen right out of his veins, leaving him hollow and broken, delirious with pain. They won, but this isn't winning. This isn't saving.

Katsuki became a hero to avoid compromises like this. Stuck by Deku to avoid sacrifices like this.

Fucking why?!

"Would you..." Katsuki's eyes rise to meet Izuku's wobbly smile, eyes crinkled as he winces in pain at the stretching of the tender wound he has. It hits Bakugou unnecessarily hard that the Hand Freak disintegrated Izuku's sole dimple. "...m-marry me?"

It's probably the stupidest thing Izuku's ever asked.

They're clearly not going to make it till marriage. Neither of them but Izuku most definitely. Besides...

"Tch," Katsuki spits a clot of blood and phlegm, "you... have t... to ask?"

Izuku doesn't laugh. His face looks drunk, all lax and disconcerted with more freckles than ever. His eyes do that thing where Katsuki knows he's laughing anyway. It's the one he uses when he finds Katsuki's more unsavory antiques hilarious but doesn't dare laugh out loud in public.

"I love you."

Katsuki's pretty sure they both say it.


Mirio finds them and his heart goes from hopeful to shattered in the span of a second. Rather, he finds Katsuki sprawled almost next to Izuku, eyes closed. The little he can see of his face looks dirty and wrecked. Mirio cannot look at Izuku for long; his mutilated form pulls at his stomach, urging him to empty its contents. Bakugou is so still that Mirio thinks he's also dead, but at his uncharacteristic swear, a loud, furious 'fuck,' red eyes fly open. They're half-lidded and hazy, but they find Mirio without delay. Ground Zero looks so goddamn relieved... Mirio doesn't think he's ever seen him look like that.

"Come... here..." Mirio is already running to his side, feeling guilty for giving Deku his back as he focuses on Bakugou.

"Ground Zero, you need medical attention. Is Dek- Izuku, is Izuku...:"

"Pay... attention." His lack of an answer is telling. If Izuku had a chance, his partner would be throwing expletives left and right to assure he got help. It doesn't happen. Instead, Bakugou's flagging gaze pins Mirio down. It's an awkward angle, with the other face down on the pavement, but it doesn't hinder him. Like always, Bakugou is a man on a mission. He murmurs as pleading as Mirio will ever hear him: "There's some... thing... you g... got... gotta do."

This is how Mirio Toogata receives One For All.

"R-recovery Girl or... Gran T-torino, no o...ne else."

"Why would you…?"

Mirio's heart is breaking. He's so confused. The last time he felt like this, his quirk was gone.

"Your... mentor, Deku said..." Sir? Everything in the number one hero wants Bakugout to stop talking. The man is exhausted, pained, and weakened. His red eyes do not stray from Izuku's prone form. It's heart wrenching to watch him choke out each word, but he can't make himself shush him; Mirio will never have a chance to know what he'll say. The thought makes him sick. " he... wanted... you to have... it." Looking him in the eye, Mirio feels like he's sold his soul. "Pass it on."

You're going to be okay, Mirio doesn't lie.

A sharp gasp startles him.

"Bakugou?!" he questions.

"I can't... see." The pang of pain isn't dulled by the angst already in him as he processes Bakugou's words and confirms it in his unfocused eyes. "Deku..." he whispers. "Lemi..."

Mirio's not sure how he understands the request. He's probably not supposed to move Bakugou, but he hardly thinks anything he does can make his situation worse. He grabs him under his armpits and drags him gently towards Izuku, trying hard to not think of the younger hero as a 'corpse'. He's not sure what he expected to happen, but the utter relief in Bakugou's entire body as he sags against Izuku's side is still a bucket of cold water. The pro's legs don't move, but he appears to be trying to curl himself in the crook of his shoulder.

Mirio thinks he's going to remember this moment until the day he dies. (Another says he should've known there was always something about them.) Bakugou's arm scraps along Izuku's stomach, and he stays there, finally still and holding on. Bakugou's goal done, he breathes - almost... peacefully. As he starts coming down from the frenetic exchange, Mirio wonders: if they hadn't focused on One For All, could he have taken Bakugou towards medical attention? But... the explosive hero is suffering from spinal damage; Mirio hardly thinks he would've survived the trek to where the Paramedics have set up, basically on the other side of town.

"Th...ank you." If Lemillion hadn't been as close as he was, he wouldn't have heard it.

"You guys did it, Bakugou," Mirio tells him instead because he doesn't feel like he has done anything to deserve his gratitude. Mirio should've been faster. He sighs; there's no use thinking like that, he knows. "you finally put him down." He catches Bakugou's smirk, half-hidden on Izuku's chest.

Mirio stays there only for a couple of more minutes, unshakeable and shaking, as he accompanies Katsuki Bakugou wait for death.


"It's kind of weird," Kirishima's voice is light, but it's missing his usual cheer. Tenya doesn't comment on it. He feels the aching crushing his own sternum. "I've never actually been inside their apartment. To come over for the first time like this… It doesn't feel right."

"I've never been either, ribbit,"

"Neither here, Deku and, or, Bakugou usually come over," Ochako murmurs, eyes glued to her shoes but shoulders tense, "Deku told me Bakugou was super private and didn't like having people over." Tenya nods along; he'd heard similar reasoning as well.

"Bakugou said we didn't hang out here because of Midoriya's embarrassing hero collection." Kaminari chimes in, just as the elevator opens on the top floor. Tenya finds the comment odd. Bakugou has always been at the forefront of people eager to tease his hero partner, and Midoriya being a fanboy for heroics isn't exactly a secret. Not that it matters now.

There's a ruckus in the apartment when they get there. Immediately, all four heroes hurry out of the elevator. It's the penthouse elevator. It opens up directly in Bakugou and Midoriya's living room, which is a little disorienting. The space is open and somewhat minimalistic, made in more tasteful tones that Tenya would've imagined. There's a lot of wood in the first area, light wood -Oak, most likely. The living room's furniture, surrounding an unnecessarily big plasma screen, is cream in soft suede, delicate black cushions arranged in both couches and the single armchair. The TV sits upon a massive cabinet that matches the tables. It doubles as a bookshelf and is filled to the brims in gaming consoles, books, magazines, and dozens upon dozens of hero figurines. Tenya recognizes more than one piece of his merch, and it warms him down to his toes. Such a silly thing...

How very much like Izuku.

Before his curiosity can be any further peaked, though, Ochako darts forward. The noise has settled, and two figures appear at the other side through a hallway into the bowels of the apartment right before the dining room, diagonally from a clear silver door that Tenya suspects might be the kitchen.

Aoyama and Mina have beaten them here. While the pro-hero looks baffled, mouth opening and closing, seemingly struggling to speak past her surprise. On the other hand, Aoyama looks like the cat who ate the canary. He's the first well-adjusted person Tenya has greeted today, though he imagines his former classmate might be more used to death and grief than the rest of them. Not that Tenya dismisses how close he and Izuku were for a long time.

"Guys," Mina finally finds her voice, "there's only one room."

"In this apartment?!" Ochako looks around, her surprise seeming to snap her out a little from her stupor. Tenya agrees with her disbelief. There's no way a penthouse - especially not this penthouse - has only one room. Tenya wouldn't be surprised if it had a terrace, a pool, and its own gym if he's been honest. He knows that Bakugou, from the way he dresses and the circles he frequents, has always been a man of expensive taste. He can see him all over the decor, even if it's more lighthearted and airy that Tenya thought the blonde would have preferred.

Izuku's influence? It'd make sense. The pair of them had moved here a while ago now, at least a couple of years. Though they'd been rooming since they got out of UA.

Tenya had been cautious of the decision back when Izuku told them, but almost a decade later, he thinks he would've been more concerned with Bakugou and Izuku not sharing a roof.

"No, I mean," Mina swallows, and there's something like excitement and pain mingling in her eyes that Tenya can't place, "there's plenty of rooms: two offices, a movie theater, and a gym but, one bedroom." Naturally, Tenya thinks about the dismissal. Amusement catches him by surprise as it bubbles up inside him. He hasn't felt anything like that since...

"One bedroom?" Todoroki repeats.

"One bed," Mina elaborates. Tenya's not one for jumping to conclusions, but… oh.


This might get bumped to three chapters depending on the vibe chapter 2 gives me, but for now we have this and as always we'll see how it goes.

If you're new to my writing and have enjoyed it, I have two other MHA stories and I write for One Piece prolifically as well, so be sure to check them out if that sounds like something you'd be into:

All We Know of Heaven
Katsuki's trying to understand why the beginning is tasting so much like the end. Nothing about this afternoon is making any sense.

The Worth of a Quirk
The way the world treats the quirkless isn't forgotten in the excitement of One For All.

Take care, and thank you for reading :D