Last time: A memory shows the first meeting between Izuku and Tomura Shigaraki, meanwhile Katsuki's own reminiscing twists itself in his dreams. At the hospital, All Might greets Izuku's return to consciousness.

Katsuki discusses it in mandatory therapy because Aizawa-sensei is an insistent motherfucker: some of the things that happened between Deku and him. Katsuki had been wary of it, angry and morbidly eager for his admittance of the most intimate moments to confirm what he already knew: that Katsuki should've noticed, that if someone less of a failure had stood on his shoes, they would've saved Deku.

One memory, almost out of reach, comes to him in one such conversation.

Izuku has once again snuck into his room late into the night. Does that nerd ever sleep? Katsuki is usually too tired to notice the soft footstep tiptoeing their way to the couch. He only notices Deku with the arrival of morning, when he has to shake the shitty nerd awake lest he misses class. His eyes are usually puffy and swollen, a half-hearted grin as a thank you as his brain tries to shake off the last of sleep.

On this night, however, through the darkness of his bedroom, Katsuki watches Deku enter the room, hovering miserably at the door for a minute before sighing and heading for the couch. His steps are uneven, disoriented, and his shoulders hunch so far into himself that he looks unnaturally small. Katsuki has learned that Deku cries on the regular, a lot more often than Katsuki thought, and it slowly but surely began to worry him. Katsuki has never forgotten the first night Deku slept here, and it's kept him from kicking him out ever since, but he wonders, what can possibly make the nerd so anguished?

(Not that he thinks anyone else has noticed yet, which also leaves a bad taste in his mouth.)

"Are you depressed or something?" he's not sure why he asks that night out of all nights. Maybe because he's annoyed with feeling useless or perhaps just because he's awake.

"Kacchan!" Deku startles, a hand flying to cover his heart as he jumps up in fright from where he's sat down on the couch. Great hero instincts, that one, Katsuki thought. The blonde can only see the silhouette of him in basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt, but there's deep sadness tracing every shadow that clings to him. It doesn't take long for Katsuki to recall similar behaviors from the shitty nerd.

For all that he has been after Katsuki his whole life, Deku gave up on trying to be friends with him more than once; Katsuki had been pissed by the listless muttering that he'd engage in frequently during those periods. His grades plummeted, and he'd miss several days of school. (Not that Katsuki really cared or whatever; he was just used to Deku being nipping at his heels like an annoying dog, so he noticed when he had peace. He had been the only one to challenge Katsuki academically, which said more about his other useless classmates than him.) "You scared the crap out me," he stage-whispers, "what are you doing awake?"

"Doesn't matter," he dismisses. Katsuki's inner struggles are not the ones on blast tonight, "so?"

"...Or something," Deku answers tiredly, sitting back down, though he ruminates on it and then adds, "maybe both."

"Then you should fucking say something. Get help." His tone is harsh, and he damn well means it. Even Katsuki knows that some things can be fought on stubbornness alone, not that he relates to it, but he knows it happens.

"I'm handling it," Deku replies defensively.

"By sneaking into my room?"

"...yes?" he asks in the darkness, "does it bother you? 'Cause I can stop coming, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"Do you consciously work on being a retard?"

"You're so comforting Kacchan, really," Deku's voice sounds a little less somber, and Katsuki wonders when he learned to identify smiling in his tone, "why would I need anyone else?"

"Shut up, bastard."

"Although, maybe you do have a point." By now, he's laid down on the couch, and the only thing Katsuki catches is the silhouette of his hair over the sofa's arm and the loose fingers hanging down, pulling at the carpets' fur thoughtlessly. "Talking about things is important... Kacchan, can I tell you a secret?

"No." In Katsuki's defense, that was just his automatic response.

"Oh… okay." He's wondered about Izuku's endless patience before, nowadays, more often than ever. Katsuki knows, he's become gradually aware that snapping at Deku is like reflux. In the end, Katsuki hasn't meant half the things he says to him for a long time. It's just… old habits die hard. He growls. Clearly, Deku's taking his refute to heart.

"What is it?" he bites out.

"What?" Idiot.

"The secret, you dickwad?"

"Oh, yes, haha, of course. I… please don't ever tell this to anyone, but I… really hate quirks." Katsuki sits up in bed, startled awake by the open disdain in Izuku's voice, hidden under the sheepishness. He turns in bed; Deku is alerted by the sound of rustling sheets as Katsuki sits up in bed to look at him. "Kacchan?"

"What?"

Izuku's entire right side is on fire, and he has to blink through tears of pain to focus on All Might's emanciated form. He's seen him just a couple of days before, but even during their encounter in prison, Izuku kept his eyes on Aizawa-sensei. Laying in bed, the smell of blood and antiseptic pungent all around him, there's only the former Number 1 Hero in the room; Izuku has nowhere to hide.

During his first weeks of prison, he waited. Izuku was convinced his mentor - who'd even been to visit his nemesis - would eventually come to see him, at least to know why. Izuku hadn't known how to put everything into words, but he knew he wanted to tell All Might something, some type of reasoning. It hadn't mattered. All Might never showed.

"Did you know?" It's a little odd how little this secret weighs now when All Might has an inkling of who exactly he gave One for All to. Once, Izuku couldn't breathe from how angry it made him. "I hate quirks." It hangs in the air like old incense, clogging the air. "Even One for All," he adds while feeling the quirks absence whispering to him, faraway echoes in a cavern.

"I… would've never thought so," All Might replies, seemingly willing to play along for now. His expression hardens soon enough as he straightens on the hospital chair, the thin wood inadequate for his tall, lanky frame, "but then again… it wouldn't be the first wrong assumption I've made about you, Young Midoriya."

It's impossible to be a hero without a quirk.

You can be a hero, Young Midoriya.

Which one weighs more in his mentor's memory?

"I love analyzing them," Izuku continues, because talking about problems is essential, "see people grow with them… but the fact that we are put on this planet and then probably get granted a random superpower then decides our life path at the age of four… that I cannot despise more."

It's a topic very close to Izuku's heart. He can talk about it for hours. In fact, he has, but it catches little of the former number one hero's attention. He gives Izuku a stern look, the same one he'd had when Izuku and Kacchan would be at each other's throats. It's familiar, and it makes Izuku's eyes burn. It's not surprising that All Might is disappointed in him. Izuku works for a criminal, violent organization that tried to kill him and his students; what is he supposed to be? Proud?

"Young Midoriya, I entrusted you… I entrusted you the future. Why would you…?" The anguish in his voice betrays his composure. Izuku relishes the feeling that - even now, like this - All Might cares for Izuku at least a little. Another, less graceful part relishes the Symbol of Peace, realizing how wrong he'd been about dismissing Izuku on that roof.

Eijirou thinks about it long and hard before heading to Bakubro's room, a little later than he'd intended, but the conversation with Shinsou admittedly left him a little rattled. It's not the first time that Eijirou thinks that Midoriya's villainy isn't as clear-cut as criminals usually are. Call him naive (Bakugo certainly does), but Eijirou naturally thinks the best of people; that's part of why he wants to be a hero. When Bakugou opens the door, his glare is intimidating enough that it makes Eijirou swallow, but he stands firm and smiles. Bakubro might be intimidating at times, especially sneering while shirtless, but Eijirou knows Bakubro is a man of many feelings, explosive feelings at times, but feelings nonetheless.

"Can I come in?" Thankfully, with a displeased grunt that is all bark and no bite, Eijirou is allowed. Bakugou's room, as always, is immaculate. The black rug is crumb-free, and his desk has all the homework done by the looks of it. Bakubro's bed is the only thing unmade, undressed bare without the covers. Eijirou quickly discerns that Bakugou is picking up around to make a trip to the laundromat. A pile of clothes and blankets lay in a basket on top of the couch. His friend disappears briefly into the bathroom, emerging in a soft grey tank top and a towel that finds itself quickly into the dirty basket.

"What do you want, Hair-For-Brains?" Bakugou picks up the basket, comfortably dressed for a day doing chores. You would never think he's just arrived from being kidnapped. "I'm busy."

"I'll come with," Eijirou answers automatically, feeling mildly inadequate at forcing his company upon Bakugou and throwing in something to soften the blow. "Momo also took some extra notes for you."

"That's…" Bakugou begins, frowning lightly. Nice of her? Eijirou's mind supplies, but he stays silent. Bakubro's gone a little still, but his anger has eased. He was probably worried about that. His attitude would hardly indicate so, but Bakubro is one of the top students in the class, and that kind of achievement doesn't come just by being smart. "...Good," he finishes lamely, and Eijirou knows better than to show his amusement. "Come on, Shitty Hair."

They make their way to the laundry floor in companionable silence, though expectation does hang in the air. Eijirou hopes that Bakugou breaks the silence, but he's willing to prompt him if needed. The stillness between them, a paused moment building since Shinsou interrupted the Baku Squad's reunion, grows as Bakugou throws in all his laundry. He sorts them in whites and colors (most of it admittedly black) but gives no thought to fabric. Eijirou can hear his mother yelling in his head.

The hero-in-training thinks about reminding the blonde that he's not supposed to wash all those things together but decides that it's wise to have one hard conversation at a time. Once done murdering almost every rule about washing clothes, Bakugou turns to give Eijirou an expectant look, setting a timer on his phone. Eijirou feels like he missed something, offering only a confused expression in return. Bakugou sighs.

"The notes?"

"Right," the redhead recalls, "we can pick them up in my room!" As they retake the elevator, Eijirou cannot contain himself any longer. Being a coward isn't manly at all. "Look, bro," he begins, staring at the silver doors instead of his friend, whipping down sweaty hands on his softened jeans, "I'm not here to force you into anything but, I just wanted to be super clear that if you need to talk, I'm here and I'm not going to judge." Bakugou makes a pained noise from the back of the throat, but Kirishima steamrolls over his irritation. "It's fucked up that you were kidnapped and… and it's fucked up what happened to Midoriya too, no matter what he's done." The ping of the elevator marks the ending of his little speeches, and Bakugou is quick to head towards his door. Eijirou thinks he's going to be ignored, reaching for his key in his back pocket, but when they stop there, Bakubro does acknowledge his comment.

"Little shit got stabbed in the back by his criminal friends; that's fucking poetic karma if I ever saw any."

Quickly picking up the copy of Momo's notes off his desk, Eijirou stays silent, watching Bakubro's expression as he leans on his threshold. If he had to sum it up in one word, it'd be 'tired.' He raises the notes in a 'found them' gesture, and they head for the blonde's bedroom just next door. Bakugou wastes no time taking a seat at his desk and skimming through Momo's notes. After a minute, Eijirou has decided to lay down on his bed, the sheetless mattress scratching at the bare skin of his neck. Eijirou wonders if he's doing the right thing. Maybe he should just leave Bakugou to it? He looks significantly calmer than in the afternoon, perhaps this is his way of moving on, and he doesn't need Eijirou making it any harder.

Bakugou had been better the last few months, less likely to explode at the drop of a pin, his sparring becoming more controlled, less vicious. He looks at Bakugou using Yaoyorozu's notes, that's also a relatively new improvement. Are Bakubro's friends assuming that the kidnapping and what happened to Midoriya would drag him down, or is it actually affecting him? If there's one thing about Bakugou's character that is unquestionable is his strength. It'd been what drew Eijirou in on that first day of class, but his admiration for his classmate has only grown. Bakugou has a ways to go to be a pro-hero, but Kirishima has seen him shoulder his future without flinching from day one. It's a little mind-blowing.

Kacchan is amazing by himself, but what he does to the people around him, that drive for perfection that he injects into everyone he meets… that's what's going to make him a hero. It's certainly what will make me one.

"You know what was the last thing I said to Deku?" It's been so long since Bakugou sat down to copy the notes that his voice startles the redhead. Eijirou hopes he's not expected to know the answer 'cause he has no fucking idea. Bakugou has never actually talked about Midoriya, not even when they were together, and the subject was tacitly banned under penalty of slow, painful death. "I don't," Bakugou continues, "it was probably 'rot in hell' or 'die' or something like that, a very loud fuck you after I… after he turned himself in."

"Wait," Eijirou should've kept his mouth shut, but he cannot stop the surprise taking voice through him as he shoots up in bed, eyes zeroing on Bakugous's back. The other keeps on writing steadily. "Midoriya turned himself in?"

"That's what I just said, dickwad."

"I thought that…" Eijirou trails off, trying to overwrite his understanding of Midoriya's situation.

"That I took him down and then he got arrested? Yeah, that was my plan." It's -coincidentally so- also what Eijirou has put together. Bakugou and Midoriya had been out of the dorms, Bakugou returned to looking like he'd been to hell and back. Midoriya was arrested. That's kind of how he'd connected the dots. "I've beaten Deku at almost everything in life ever since we were kids. Grades, friends, sports… even quirks." Eijirou remembers that Midoriya couldn't use his quirk without blowing off a limb and sees Bakugou's point. "The one time I really needed to win, I... lost. I lost, and Deku came with me anyway. Then, I spat on his face."

"Literally or…?" Kirishima wonders out loud, backtracking at Bakugou's expression as he turns around to glare at him. "Right, doesn't matter. Sorry." This whole comforting thing is hard. "Bakubro, I mean, you have every right to be angry at him; there's no reason…"

"Goddamn, right, I have the right to be pissed-off at him! Spat on him?" Bakugou stands, unable to sit down as he explodes in a rage, his hand clenching down to avoid any sparks. "I should've punched the living daylights out of him for what he did."

"...I don't understand," Eijirou admits. When he asked Aizawa-sensei how to listen to someone, he'd stressed how important being honest and humble was. You don't have to understand him to support him, he'd said. The thing is, Eijirou has no idea what Bakubro is trying to say.

"What does that mean?" Kirishima thinks that maybe Bakubro doesn't know what this conversation is about either. "Why turn himself in? Why not kill me? It would've kept whatever cover he had. Instead, he's spent a year in jail. He knows he's never coming out." Bakugou is upset, not angry or rageful or irritated, upset. A reasonable mixture of sad and confused that Kirishima doesn't think he has ever seen, without being sure if he'll regret it, he blurts out the first thing that pops into his mind:

"Bakubro, you know what happened to Midoriya isn't your fault, right?" Bakugo freezes, a deer caught in headlights.

"I know that!"

"Do you?"

"Fucking shit, yes!"

"Okay," he placates. Bakugou has no reason to blame himself, Eijirou knows, but his friend also has a bizarre sense of responsibility for feelings and Midoriya. In the silence that follows, one thing is crystal clear in Eijirou's mind. "...I hope he makes it through." It stops the growing argument in its tracks. Bakubro sits down again, shoulders hunched over his notes as he gets back to work. Once again, Kirishima wonders if he's said the wrong thing, but a second later:

"Fuck," he whispers under his breath, a regret or a prayer, but truthful all the same, "me too."

I've been adding scenes to this like crazy but it's done, done, done done! I'm also still catching up in lieu of the incoming release of the sequel for this (Grace) which deals with Izuku's journey into villainy and dating Katsuki.