Alamogordo, New Mexico

Katsuki had decided. He was gonna beat not just Izuku, but also Tap 'n Go and Water Foul at this time off business. He was going to be number one.

"Wake up!" Katsuki shouted, throwing a shirt at Izuku's face, hitting his sleeping target squarely even with the lights still off.

"Ngh!" Izuku sputtered as he shot up in bed, the shirt falling from his face and plopping innocently in his lap as Izuku looked at Katsuki with sleep-heavy eyes. "Kacchan, what the hell?"

"Rise and shine, nerd, today we learn how to take a vacation."

"Now?" Izuku asked, groaning as Katsuki flicked the lights on. "Why?"

"Because you're not gonna say, wow, I thought Kacchan knew everything to me again," Katsuki said, grabbing up his stuff from around the room. Wallet, phone, keys. "Bullshit. I do know everything."

Katsuki was slathering on some sunscreen when Izuku said, "Um, Kacchan, isn't this your shirt?"

"Black is better against UV. You might as well not be wearing anything in your shitty pastels," Katsuki stated. "Put it on or look even more like a shitty lychee."

Izuku's freckles had come out in the desert sun. They hid well under his burgeoning sunburn-turned-tan, but in that stark light, Katsuki witnessed how they bloomed on his shoulders down to his forearms. He was pink and brown all over.

"Fine," Izuku said, tugging the black tee on and popping out the neck hole with a bad case of bedhead.

"Pfft," Katsuki laughed, the sound no more than a medium gust of air. "You look like a thirteen year old going to his first emo concert."

"Hey, you're making me wear it!"

"And you're making me laugh!"

"A price I'm willing to pay." Izuku grinned as he tugged on a pair of cargo shorts. Also pale, but at least the fabric was thicker. "Where are we going?"

"You're gonna have to hold your piss for at least an hour."

"That doesn't remotely answer the question."

"You're a nerd, interpret that as you will."

It seemed as though, aside from hiking, there wasn't much to do in this region. Lots of cliffs and caves and mountains, sprinkled with museums, eateries, and ranches. Coming from a town so close to Tokyo made it seem like there'd be more to do if their flights had just dropped them off smack-dab in the middle of the ocean.

Katsuki was satisfied with hiking. It was one of the things he did in his time off even back home, because it still felt productive. But that was what the vacation was supposed to disrupt, wasn't it?

So they were going out of town.

Katsuki lifted up the car keys and gave them a jingle. "I'm getting old here."

"You're not even five minutes older yet," Izuku quibbled, going over to the sinks to brush his teeth. "Just gimme a minute."

They were out to the car in three, Izuku's blessed lack of vanity making him easy enough to shove out the door. He just needed a brush, a whizz, and a protein bar chipmunked away in one chubby cheek and he was good to go.

They were soon on the interstate, pointed in the direction of the Missile Range. Even with the windows up and the air set to recirculate, the dusty smell of terracotta earth crept in, mingling with the dry gypsum that had managed to speckle the car's black interior. Despite the rain last night, the scent was still wrung out, like dry dirt but more, like a dust storm you could drink.

And somehow, overnight, the land had turned green. Not like Japan with its plenty of trees and bushes and grass, but greener than Katsuki had ever seen this place. The yucca stood taller, the prickly pears were plumper. And the little clumps of grass, brown enough to blend in with the desert as Katsuki tripped over them a couple days ago, now cast a verdancy over the land that stretched for miles.

When they passed right by the Missile Range, Izuku's head whipped back, then he looked towards Katsuki with wide eyes. He had to know better than to ask if Katsuki had missed a turn, but the question of where rested on his face. But like in the hotel, Katsuki wasn't going to answer. Instead, he took his right hand and put it on the center console.

"You gonna sit there or are you gonna do something useful?"

"Oh!" Izuku said, the surprise unable to be hidden. But he didn't say anything as he took Katsuki's right hand in both of his and began massaging the muscles, stretching the joints, warming the skin against the air conditioning.

Katsuki was still getting used to this. When his and Izuku's hands met, it was in combat—on both sides of their friendship. Exchanged blows in enmity or camaraderie, and very little else. But now Izuku was taking Katsuki's hand in his, was holding his arm gently as he removed cactus needles, was close all the time. Izuku could easily pause and rest his hand in Katsuki's, thread their fingers together, draw Katsuki's hand further into his lap. And maybe Katuski would let him.

Which was a weird thought as Katsuki clenched his left hand against the wheel, only to shoot a twinge of pain up his forearm. He nearly snatched his other hand away, but that would have stood out, it would have beckoned questions, or at least made Izuku think things that maybe he was wise enough not to ask aloud.

They blurred past a sign marked 75 mph. Katsuki's eyes slid over to the dash as the smaller kilometer dial crept up over 100 kph, 110, 120… But even at the speed limit, traffic blew by them, cars hopping over to the fast lane just to pass them. So the dial moved further, 130, approaching 140 before they were running in parallel with the cars around them. It was fast, way faster than they ever got in Japan. It was All Might-fast, Deku-fast. Staring at Izuku's lightning-clad back as he ran ahead and disappeared for a year-fast.

"Other hand, Kacchan."

It was slightly uncomfortable, reaching his left arm underneath his right as he switched driving hands. But the road was long and straight and wide, so Katsuki just kept his eyes between the lines as Izuku began working, his fingers now brushing Katsuki's hip occasionally as he worked up the wrist.

"This is kind of doing it, right?" Izuku asked. "Yeah, we're going somewhere, and maybe that's productive, but it's quiet. We're just sitting together. Not much is happening. And it's okay."

Maybe Izuku had a point, but there was something different about this than even the meal they'd shared yesterday. In the car, Katsuki had to look forward, had to focus on something that wasn't Izuku. There was a separation that cleared Katsuki's mind, at least a bit. When it was just him and Izuku, no focus point to filter some of Izuku out with, there was something that was too much. Something that he couldn't figure out.

"Failing grade, Deku."

They were coming to a scenic overpass, the crest of the mountain that hugged the far west end of the valley. The car chugged up a sharper incline, and Katsuki pulled his warm, limber hand back to control the wheel. He kept his eyes on the road, curling a smile under his frown as Izuku oohed and ahhed over the view as they crept higher and higher.

Unlike the drive from the day before, this one wasn't blocked by evergreens. The regular brush, slightly greener from the rain, stalked them up the mountain, dotting the sharp hills like freckles. Behind them, in the rear-view mirror, Katsuki could make out the whole valley: the blanched strip of White Sands and the darker smudge of Alamogordo.

Coming down the other side of the mountain, there were towns. Patches of fast food joints and squat houses and water towers painted with scenes of the American west bordered the whole highway. No building more than a story high, no town extending longer than a city block. There probably wasn't any crime, because everyone had to know each other in a place so small. The criminal would be found out before even the fastest hero teleported.

They were back on flat land, the mountains once again tall behind them when Katsuki pulled off the highway. Izuku was staring out the window, probably thirsty for hints about Katsuki's plan, because goodness knew there wasn't much to look at besides Mexican restaurants and American chain establishments.

When they turned into a parking lot, every spot with so much as a twig's worth of shade was taken, but one spot was all Katsuki needed as he cut it close to the cars on either side with the monstrosity of an SUV he was driving.

"What is this place?" Izuku asked, looking at what was very clearly the back of a building with zero signage.

"Dunno," Katsuki said, hopping out of the car and slamming his door closed. "Not going there. C'mon."

The sun walloped them hard once the last of the air conditioning wicked off their skin, reminding them that outside of the oasis of the car, this was the desert. Despite it still being early morning, the sun was high already, running up to its peak.

There were more people around than Katsuki had seen since he'd left the airport. Car doors slammed around him to reveal people in broad-brimmed hats all walking the same way that the GPS had told him to go. Katsuki melded in with the crowd, Izuku right on his heels.

And here, Katsuki could blend in with the crowd. Without any efforts towards disguise, he and Izuku were invisible, as good as civilians in this country. Surely they were famous enough that if they mentioned their hero names, both the more hero fanatical and the news buffs would turn their heads. But as they were, doing nothing to draw attention to themselves, not so much as lick of merch tagging their clothes, they were unknown in a way they hadn't been since Katsuki was fourteen.

They could do anything and no one would know. No one would have phones facing toward them or be firing off texts with the news of a Deku and Dynamight sighting. They were anonymous.

"Oh, wow!"

"This is it," Katsuki said, waving an arm out to the street before them.

It was a block full of tents and carts, artisans hawking their wares and food vendors fanning the scents of their food toward the passersby. There were endless colors in the forms of flowers and jewelry and painted terracotta pots. And when Katsuki looked from one end of the street to the other, the end of the street fair was nowhere in sight. It wasn't nearly as packed as a Japanese street lined with food vendors, but it was probably just as big, just stretched over the plentiful land of the region.

"A glorified farmer's market," Katsuki declared. "The most boring thing imaginable."

Izuku barked out a laugh, and it took Katsuki aback. It was brief, over as soon as it started. But it wasn't a sound Katsuki heard often from Izuku, and it was…nice. He had to frown away his own burgeoning smile as Izuku turned to look at him, grin on his face. "Then why are we here?"

"If we can figure out why all these people are here, why this mind-numbing activity is at the top of this wasteland's expendable tourist board," Katsuki laid out, "then we'll be number one at this vacation shit."

The warm, bright look on Izuku's face narrowed into sharp eyes and furrowed brows as he turned his attention to the crowd. He was active, curious, analyzing. Katsuki might have liked that expression even better.

"Challenge accepted," Izuku said. "Plus ultra."

"Okay, this way," Katsuki said, choosing a direction at random and snagging Izuku by the shoulder to follow.

They stepped into the fray and observed the obvious things. The smells were intoxicating—so different from Japanese cuisine. Too sweet, too oily, but alluring. It didn't take Izuku long to buy a bag of kettle corn and begin devouring it with the sticky hands of the toddler Katsuki had once known.

"People like going out for food they don't have to cook," Izuku observed, offering Katsuki a piece of the strangely round popcorn.

It was alright. A little overly sweet but with decent salt. Katsuki could understand the appeal. Besides, food was one of the few things that Katsuki already put some effort into in his free time. Another productive hobby, just like hiking or working out.

"That's appeal number one," Katsuki agreed.

"People like shopping," Izuku pointed out next. Canvas totes and reused grocery bags were bulging with jars and collectables and artwork. Cash was flowing and, briefly, Katsuki wondered if he had enough currency left for the day, but then he remembered he wasn't buying any of this shit.

"Pass," Katsuki said, avoiding eye contact with the tie dye vendor they were passing. Like he hadn't been able to make tie dye shirts when he was five years old.

"I dunno," Izuku mused. "Sometimes clothes shopping can be fun."

"That's only because you have the sense of humor of a middle-aged dad and your t-shirts reflect that."

"Well, yeah, that can be fun!"

Aguas frescas were next, because they'd only been out fifteen minutes, and already beads of sweat were forming along Katsuki's brow. The pink drink that was in his hand a few minutes later dripped cold condensation down his arm as the ice began its rapid melt.

"I can drink sugary shit at home," Katsuki complained as the floral taste of hibiscus hit his tongue. It wasn't as overly sweet as he'd assumed, but he kept that to himself as he slurped it down. "In the AC. What makes this special?"

"I dunno," Izuku said, sucking down on an horchata, reduced to pouring the kettle corn directly into his mouth with his other available hand. "People watching? Seeing stuff you don't usually see?"

"The only reason I need to watch people is to be able to describe their dumb faces in a crime report," Katsuki said. "And I don't need any of this shit." They were passing a vendor selling clocks whittled into ornate wooden cutouts. Nothing Katsuki needed to lug back to Japan when he had a smartwatch on his wrist at all times.

"Wait, wait, an All Might stall!"

Katsuki followed Izuku's gaze, expecting to see a stall of red, blue, and yellow, but instead saw Izuku running towards a stall glutted with unofficial merch for heroes and comic books alike. But Izuku zeroed in on a selection of mini All Mights dangling from a jewelry stand and was already halfway done leafing through them by the time Katsuki meandered over.

"Kacchan, how do I pick?" Izuku asked as he picked up two off-brand All Mights. Both were flying, but one was in his silver age and one in his bronze age and, despite being homemade, Katsuki had to admit they looked pretty damn good.

"What are they?"

"Phone charms," Izuku explained, showing how the little black string looped into the corner of his smart phone. "It only makes sense for him to be flying since he's dangling, you know, he shouldn't be standing.

"Obviously," Katsuki agreed sarcastically. Though he couldn't refute the nerd's logic.

"So which one?" Izuku asked. "It should be these ones with the cape instead of golden age so that it's extra clear that he's flying, but the costume colors are so different there's just no way to possibly choose—Kacchan, help!"

"Buy both."

Izuku looked relieved and Katsuki almost laughed. This damn peaceful climate and Izuku's greatest moment of distress was not being able to choose between different versions of All Might.

While Izuku eagerly paid, Katsuki took the bronze age All Might—an era he'd always been partial to with its dark red and black color scheme—and looped it around the corner of his phone. It looked dorky as hell.

"Kacchan?" Izuku asked when he was done with the cashier. "What are you doing?"

"I paid for the rental car and the room," Katsuki reasoned with a shrug. "You paid for this—now we're even."

Izuku laughed again, This one twice as long as the earlier laugh Katsuki had earned. It made his stomach squeeze. "Now we match!"

Both of their phones were adorned with little dangling All Mights, making them a matched set like friendship bracelets or the All Might cards they'd both pulled in childhood. It was too darling for Katsuki to bear, and he had half a mind to take his and Izuku's phones both and blow them up between his hands. It also made him want to take Izuku's hand and lift it in the air declaring that they were a pair and always had been and no one had better separate them again. Instead, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and let the little All Might charm dangle from his hip.

"Okay, I get it now," Izuku said grinning. "Shopping has its benefits."

Their shoulders bumped together as the crowd bottlenecked around a food truck. Izuku was so damn warm to the touch already, and the dark shirt wasn't helping, even if it would stave off the burning. The thing was beginning to saturate with sweat, becoming skin tight around Izuku's ab muscles, reminding Katsuki of how he'd looked shirtless and sweaty the day before. Just the brief touch shoulder to shoulder made Katsuki sweat even more.

"Oh, Kacchan, over there!"

Izuku put his hand on Katsuki's shoulder and that was even warmer. He could feel the damp of Izuku's palm through his shirt sleeve, and the touch felt heavy. Every new touch between them was surprising and rawly sensory. Like the smack of salt the first time he'd tasted miso plain or a day after training waking up to a muscle he hadn't known about screaming out in pain. It was just a hand, so why did it feel like so much?

"Chile jam!" Izuku exclaimed, coming to a stop in front of a stand, dropping his hand in order to point at the glass jars of yellow, orange, and red.

"The fuck?" Katsuki blurted, earning a head tilt and furrowed brow from the vendor.

"What's this?" Izuku asked, pointing to the peculiarly labeled jars. There were other strange jellies and jams on the table: garlic and onion and ginger, but Izuku's attention was squarely on the one with the magic word. Chile.

"It's one of our specialties," the woman answered from her folding lawn chair. Everything at the stand was made of the same canvas-like polyester, from the chair to the tablecloth to the tent providing brief relief from the sun, drawing shoppers under its brim. "Jam reduced down with tomatoes and different peppers. It's got a real kick, I swear to hither and yon."

"I can take more than a little kick."

"Oh, can ya?"

The woman used the edge of the table to push herself up, shaking all the jars of jam as she looked up to face Katsuki. Her face was as weathered as the land itself with the same kinds of crags and ridges and sun-roasted tan.

From a cup of doll-sized spoons, the woman took one, and untwisted a loose jar lid with her other hand. Without breaking eye contact with Katsuki, she dipped the spoon in the jar and then placed the red sauce in her mouth. Before even swallowing, she grabbed another, filled it with jam, and held it out towards Katsuki. A challenge.

He took it immediately, and placed the spoon facedown on his tongue, licking the spoon clean in one swift motion while the woman's spoon dangled from her mouth like a loose cigarette.

It was sweet. It was jam. The sugar glided over his tongue, reminding him of that horrid fudge for a moment before the tangy hit of acid from the tomato kicked in. Not so different from a ketchup from a button-up only, cloth napkin restaurant.

Also…It was hot.

It crept up from behind like a little stalker villain that Katsuki would usually be ready to whip around and knock out with one blow from his quirk. But this vendor lady hadn't so much as blinked at the spice, and so Katsuki wouldn't either. He had a lifetime of controlling the sweat glands in his hands, but he'd never had to pay attention to the pores on his face. His sideburns were soaked and his bangs stuck to his forehead like a bad alpaca fur beanie. But that was just the sweat from the day, right? This old bat wouldn't think he was bowing under the pressure—he'd rather take some of this lava jam to the eye than that.

"Good, huh?" the lady asked.

Katsuki swallowed. "Great," he rasped.

And that was the kicker, wasn't it? Even as it made all his taste buds stand erect like good little child soldiers in a war, he thought damn if it wouldn't taste good slathered on a piece of roast pork.

He slapped down the eight bucks that crazy lady was charging for it and left before she could see his face go red.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" Izuku asked, a wide grin on his face. "Not boring?"

"It was grocery shopping," Katsuki retorted. "And a bother for customs."

But…he was having a little bit of fun. A smidgeon. And he still didn't understand why, because his mind should be half numbed with sugar and heat and boredom, but it wasn't. He wasn't. Instead, he had half a mind to point Izuku towards the All Might bottle cap charms across the way or the aloe plants one tent down that would help soothe their burns.

Izuku had to take the jar, since it fit into one of his massive pockets, making it look like he had one and a half hip bones. But of course, the idiot was happy to do it, thrilled even. Like in this dearth of distressed civilians and villains to take down, being able to save Katsuki the grief of carrying both a jam jar and a drink was gonna push him up a score in the hero rankings.

"I think you'd rather be grocery shopping," Izuku said—and it was a fair assumption. The supermarket was air conditioned and efficient and didn't have random ladies squaring up like he wouldn't push her out of the way for the last tin of wasabi peas.

But he'd also be alone at the supermarket. And go back to his empty apartment alone. He'd put most of the groceries away and cook dinner for one like he always did.

"Whaddyou know?" Katsuki said instead, frowning.

"You. Pretty well," Izuku retorted. "I thought maybe I'd forgotten some about you in the past year but no, you're always up here."

He gestured towards his head with his shoulder, which Katsuki caught out the corner of his eye as they continued walking forward. A dog was peeing on the sidewalk shockingly close to some macramé merchandise. A kid dropped an ice cream cone on the ground and burst out crying. This end of the street fest was drawing near.

Katsuki wasn't even sure how well he knew himself. If he did, wouldn't the shit those old fart heroes had been talking about on Thursday be his reality already? Sometimes it seemed impossible to tell who he was beyond fists and explosions and sweat. But Izuku had always known things that Katsuki hadn't, and it in equal measure made him want to go back to the car and leave Izuku in a fit of red dust, and pry the answers out of Izuku with his nails, with his teeth.

"No," Katsuki said. "This feels different."

They were approaching a barricade of orange cones at the end of the street, nothing but one food truck left between them and the end of this side of the fair.

"Different than what?"

"Like this is so boring my brain should melt out of my ears, but you're distracting it from that."

"Which is a…good thing?"

Katsuki walked ahead. Straight past the food truck and past the orange cones so they were back in the normal town, cars passing by at a quick clip. Everyone drove fast here, like there was actually somewhere to go. "It's an annoying thing."

"Oh…?"

Izuku was confused. Even not looking at the guy, still facing the street, Katsuki could all but see the cocked head, the wide eyes, the hand drooping in the air in front of him as it tried to draw a real answer out of Katsuki.

But Katsuki had none to give. This wasn't a regular feeling. It was a new one, no more relatable to his regular rolodex of feelings than it was to a swarm of bees storming his stomach. Really, actually, it was more like the bees.

"I thought I'd be alone this week," Katsuki said, allowing the cars to swallow up his words. He didn't give a damn if Izuku heard or not. "Had been looking forward to it. Then your ass blows in near immediately and well. Thought I'd punch your lights out, but I haven't."

Katsuki was sure that'd stir a response. Not throwing a punch was as good as taking one yourself. That's why he'd always struck first in a fight. Set the tone. Don't give yourself a chance to be thrown off right at the top. But somehow Izuku had gotten the upper hand without making the first move while Katsuki sat back on his heels. No, actually, he'd been doing something, but it hadn't been fighting. And when it wasn't fighting, Katsuki couldn't figure it out.

But Izuku didn't say anything. Mind was surely working a kilometer a minute, but what else was new.

"You're the best to train with. You're not even horrible to share a room with. Lousy at vacationing with," Katsuki continued. "You used to get on my nerves just being around. But you being fucking absent for a year threw everything off, and I can't shake it."

"I wasn't gone—you were busy too!"

"Shut up."

It hadn't been important. Nothing besides scattered flashes of their work shifts had ever been an emergency or desperate or immediately necessary in any way. They'd just been making busy because they didn't know how to do anything else. Because they didn't know how to just be with themselves. That was what UA had never taught them.

"We don't know how to be friends!" Katsuki exclaimed. "Maybe we never did!"

However loud Katsuki's words were, the silence was louder. It was fraught with humming vehicles and excited voices making their way through the street fair, but none of that was the deafening part. The space between him and Izuku was what screamed at Katsuki.

"K-Kacchan…"

Izuku was upset now. Great. And by God, some horrible yanking behind Katsuki's lungs made him want to do something about it. It was like his upper chest had been speared by a fishhook and was pulling him back to where Izuku stood behind him, potentially blubbering because Katsuki couldn't hold his tongue, yet again.

But when Katsuki turned around, Izuku wasn't weeping. He was frowning, but his eyes were only glistening, no more than the sweat on his forehead or down the column of his neck. He was shiny all over and it was captivating. He'd always drawn Katsuki's gaze like this, but it had never before filled him with such fresh vexation.

It pushed him to take a step forward. Then another. And another. He was close enough to Izuku to smell the heady mix of sweat intermingled with sunscreen and exhaust puffing out of that food truck. It was acrid and hot and it smelled a little like battle but they were safe but if they were safe then why was Katsuki's heart pounding like a villain was on his tail, like something was catching up to him, like—

He had to do something. He had to.

He leaned in. He heard Izuku say: "Oh." Actually, he felt it more than he heard it. Soft, puffing against his mouth. And then, because he couldn't allow Izuku to figure it out first, took one last step forward, and closed the gap.

Their lips touched. And Katsuki had no idea what he was doing, he was only aware of what was next. Next: him grabbing Izuku's sweaty hair and fisting it in his sweaty palm. Next: them slotting their lips to the side so that they actually fit, and dammit, they did fit. Next: a touch of tongue that tasted like hibiscus and cinnamon and caramel. Next: they broke apart and stared at each other with wide eyes.

It was a line in the sand, crossed. A line they hadn't even known about, blown to scattered waste.

Next. Katsuki took two big steps backwards and blasted himself right over traffic and ran.

Las Cruces, New Mexico

Running was hard in this country. The air was thin. The sun was hot. Katsuki had spilled his hibiscus drink on his hand before he'd dropped it and it looked like he'd murdered a Jigglypuff. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, but that was a problem for later. Everything was a problem for later. Right now, the only problem was running.

Of course, running wasn't a problem when you wielded the most powerful quirk in the world. So Katsuki had only cleared one, maybe one-and-a-half blurry blocks before a flash of teal lit up in front of him and forced him to stop or else make more of a coward of himself.

"Kacchan!" Izuku exclaimed, and it wasn't so different from his arrival just a few days ago. Skidding to a stop, just a little out of breath, and with Katsuki more than a little dumbfounded. "Kacchan, what the…what?"

And fuck, running hadn't made his heart rate go down at all. Hadn't stopped the nervous sweat or the sweat from the heat certainly or even the sweat from his quirk, which could probably send him straight to the stratosphere with one wrong thought just about now. "I don't know!"

"Kacchan, you can't just kiss someone and run!"

"You don't tell me what I can and can't do!"

"Well then, what—why? Why did you do it?" Those little aspirated puffs coming off the W questions betrayed that Izuku actually might have been a bit out of breath. Maybe his heart was beating as fast as Katsuki's. He'd lost his drink too, and the popcorn, but his shorts were still hanging heavy with the fucking jam.

"I had to do something!" Katsuki shouted.

"Something?" Izuku asked. "Or that thing?"

"What's it to you!" Katsuki rebutted, weak as anything. Weak in a way that made sweat sting his eyes and he had to blink it away fast lest any idiot think it was something else.

"It's everything!" Izuku shouted back. "What's it to you?"

It was…something. It was confusing. It was surprising. It was a mystery and maybe it was obvious but it was also good and maybe really bad and it was done but it wasn't over.

Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe it should have already happened.

"I wanted to," he said simply. "And so I did."

"You wanted to…? Since when?" Izuku asked.

"Just now!"

Izuku shook his head, as though that was wrong, as though Katsuki had just lied to him, as though that was something that Katsuki would ever do. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know!" Katsuki exclaimed. He didn't know. He hadn't thought that far. His mind was racing in an effort to catch up and figure that out, but every thought was too fast and shadowed by the next to decipher. "Whaddyou know?"

Katsuki asked it again. As though Izuku was hiding information from him. It was inside of him—of that Katsuki was sure. He wanted to crawl down Izuku's throat and claw it out, figure out what bloody truth lay between them that neither of them had words for. That was the only way he could think to do it, the only thing that even began to make sense.

"I-I…" Izuku stuttered, his head shaking slightly, his eyes wide and confused, but he didn't take a single step back from Katsuki. He couldn't. "I don't know. I… What now?"

Now had run away when Katsuki had. Now was back by those traffic cones and here, Katsuki had no idea. Of anything.

He sighed, the first breath he'd managed to get even halfway under him. It tasted like both of them. "Car. That's what. Let's get outta here."