Hey, sorry for the wait! I took my grandma to the doctor and they were worried about cancer. It's been a rough few weeks but I think she's in the clear!

Also, send good vibes/prayers/whatever you can to Mekabella21!. Everyone always needs support, but right now I think she could use a little extra!

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Shatter Me

Chapter 9

*Midoriya's POV*

Shoto wouldn't hurt me, not for anything... I know he isn't like Master. But as he leads me out of my room, I can't help but feel terror. It's like I'm exposed. Like I'm doing something that isn't just wrong, but unforgivable. Master punished me severely for much less and even now I can't seem to get him out of my head.

"It's alright, Izuku," Shoto hums soothingly, ever patient and understanding as I cling to him more tightly with each wobbling step. "Just a little farther, okay? And remember that we don't have to go in until you're ready."

How could I ever be ready for this? I'm already struggling to keep my nose above some invisible, suffocating water and now it feels like I'm wading out even farther into the deep. Shaking my head, I back away from the closed threshold we'd stopped at. Firmness, warmth, and support are what I find though. Maybe I'm not ready to swim on my own, but Shoto is there to save me, just like he did when he took me from Master.

He holds me against his chest while his lips hum in my hair, further calming the incessant pounding of my heart. "I'm not going to leave until you tell me to, Izuku. There is nothing for you to fear."

If Shoto says it then it must be true because he promised he'd never lie to me. But this man... This brute. He is loud and violent, a chaotic storm that almost took my most precious person away from me.

What should I say to him? How should I act? Who is he to me and why can't I remember more?

There's a place inside me that knows the answers to these questions. A tiny, shriveled mass of information and memories that scratches and claws from behind a door I can't find... can't open. Part of me wants to ignore the unnerving sound, but something else won't let me. This man is part of my past and I need to know how; I owe Shoto that much for taking such a beating.

Numbness nips at my skin, sinking into the muscle with warm static as Shoto reaches for the doorknob. My breath, stolen by the smooth swing of the heavy wood, won't return to me. I stand frozen and confused, smothered by emotions I'm not sure I'm truly feeling. But there is one thing I realize now, even though I can't understand why just yet—I am not afraid of this man.

"Ah? You just going to stand there staring again or are you going to say hi this time, nerd?"

I blink and then blink again. His voice and the way he talks are even more familiar now than they were before. Tan skin, wild blonde hair, and fierce reddish-brown eyes... I've seen it before. I know I have. My feet move without permission, drawing me nearer to the bed as I struggle to find any solid memory I might have deep in my mind.

It isn't until I'm a few feet away that I zero in on the bruises and cuts marring his face; They aren't nearly as bad as the ones Shoto has. The discoloration makes me frown after a moment though, not just because I don't like seeing anyone hurt, but also because a flash of memory races across my eyes. I haven't just seen this person's face, I've seen it mangled too.

"Damn, Deku." The man snorts while rolling his eyes. "I know it's been a while but I'm not really that fucking forgettable, am I?"

Then it clicks.

*Flashback*

I'm on a playground, watching fearfully from where I'm huddled in the dirt as a fight rages.

Two older kids are ganging up on a third, their victim so small and young in comparison. I keep trying to stand up to help, but my legs ache; I can't get my body to do what I'm telling it to.

I'm forced to watch as fists connect over and over, grunts of pain and anger drowning out the natural, happy sounds of the park. The boy stumbles and crashes, but no matter how hard he gets hit, he manages to get back on his feet, each time more skilled and vicious. Against the odds, he wins again. Always.

"Yeah, you better run! I catch you messing with Deku again and you'll be sorry!" The kid shouts, finally turning back to me.

Sweat, dirt, blood, and the start of what will become nasty bruises smear across his cheeks. Fat tears are rolling unimpeded from the corners of his eyes and yet he doesn't look defeated like I'm sure I do... No, there's pride in his smile when he wipes some of the thick crimson dripping from his nose.

"See that, Deku? That's how you win a fight," he states in satisfaction.

I lower my head shamefully in response, feeling so guilty and pitiful for needing to be saved again. He's always getting hurt because of me... Because I'm too timid and weak to protect myself...

"What's that look for?" he asks before roughly pushing me back upright and getting in my face. "What's the matter now?"

"Y-you're h-hurt because of m-me!" I hiccup, still keeping my eyes downcast. "I—"

My wobbling explanation is brushed off with an amused snort. "Yeah, yeah... Whatever nerd. Now, tell me where it hurts."

He crouches in front of me when I relent, helping maneuver me to my butt so that he can examine my wounds. Dirt-packed and oozing, the skin on my knees burns when he wipes them clean with the bottom of his shirt. My elbows and hands are next, each limb carefully held up and scrutinized.

"Come on, Deku," he orders once he's come to a conclusion. "Get on my back and I'll carry you home. Nothing looks too serious, but you need Band-Aids and to lay down."

He's not wrong. The unfortunate reality is that my body is and always will be weak. The doctor my mom took me to last year said that I wouldn't grow up big and strong like other boys and that I needed to be careful not to push myself too hard. Despite knowing this, I shake my head quickly, not wanting him to do more than he already has.

No sooner than I get to my feet, my determination is betrayed by my illness and my shaking legs give out entirely, causing me to yelp in panic. As if he'd expected this to happen though, my protector is already kneeling in front of me, breaking my fall with his back while simultaneously getting me in the right position to be carried just like he wanted.

"Stop being such an idiot," he grunts while readjusting to get a better grip under my knees. "You and I both know that your stupid body is tapped out for the day so stop trying to pretend like it isn't."

"B-but I—" I start, stopping short when I hear him growl in annoyance.

Those harsh eyes peer back, so fierce and threatening to everyone but me. "I promised I'd take care of you when that extra told your mom you were sick, and I don't go back on my word, remember? Besides, even if I hadn't made that promise I'd still beat up anyone who was bothering you because you're my best friend, Deku. Stop acting like you're a bug that deserves to get squashed because you aren't. Get that through your nerdy head."

I cry even more, but nod in gratitude and affection, curling my face down to his shoulder for comfort. "You're my best friend too, Kacchan."

*End flashback*

"K-Kacchan...?" I gasp, finally remembering his name. More and more memories bubble out of the lost depths of my mind, each one so vivid it's like I'd never forgotten it in the first place.

The smirk on his lips grows and he nods, scolding me without really meaning it. "Took you long enough, Deku. Wasn't I supposed to be your best friend or some shit?"

All uncertainty and hesitation evaporate and I rush to his side, desperately wrapping myself around him. I don't want him to disappear; I don't want to forget again. "Yes! I'm so sorry I forgot, Kacchan! Please forgive me!"

His body tenses though and I realize that Shoto is limping towards us, both of them looking rather put off and wary... Two predators circling, poised for a rematch even though neither can fight right now.

"Even with your combat skill, you won't make it out of the building with Izuku," Shoto warns, holding out the key to the locking straps keeping Kacchan restrained. "I'll give you some time to catch up."

Kacchan glares and narrows his eyes but ultimately doesn't respond. He doesn't even pay attention to me when I start freeing him, gaze trained on Shoto while he leaves. With my memories reemerging, I'm not surprised by his behavior though; he always watched people like that.

"Shoto isn't going to hurt me, Kacchan," I explain affectionately, still so appreciative for his protectiveness. Actually, he's kind of like a loud version of Shoto in that respect; they'd both do absolutely anything to make sure I was safe—even kill, apparently. "He takes care of me, just like you used to!"

~0.0~

~Bakugo's POV~

It had just been a simple rash on his face; Auntie Inko and my mom swore it would go away with some ointment... But it didn't. Then he started to lose all of his energy and began having headaches, his joints began to swell, and he kept getting feverish. When his mom took him to the doctor though, they said that what he had was incurable. Deku would always be sick and would need someone to help him. I didn't hesitate to volunteer, of course, as it was basically the same thing I'd been doing since we were diaper buddies. All I had to do was be his keeper... to look after him.

I failed.

As I somewhat distractedly listen to Deku explain that Todoroki has been taking care of him, my stomach churns from the startlingly large scars that wrap around his wrists and the rage-inducing imprints of teeth scattered across his neck.

I've long known what he'd been taken for all those years ago but seeing the proof of what has been done to him is worse than just knowing that it was happening. Deku was being kept as a sex slave—one 'owned' by a particularly sadistic, pedophilic bastard if his endlessly marred skin is anything to go by.

As much as it pains me to admit since I decidedly hate the guy, it appears that Todoroki was telling the truth about being innocent to some extent. Deku doesn't seem afraid of him and his affection isn't confused or coerced. The homicidal bastard did rescue him.

But as happy and relieved as I am to know that someone managed to save my friend, I can't help but feel like this is an out-of-the-fire and into the frying pan situation. Todoroki might not be the same kind of evil Shigaraki was, but he certainly isn't a saint. Bastard is a murderer and apparently an especially depraved one if he really does dismember his victims. The pictures Todoroki took of Shigaraki's corpse were gruesome and proved that he liked to relive his kills; I'd even bet the freak stares at them while masturbating in a dark room.

Who's to say that he won't turn on Deku at some point? At best he's a sociopath, at worst a psychopath. And of course, the cherry on top of this bullshit sundae is that Izuku is just as damn naïve as he was at five years old; he could never understand that not all people are good and that some are so bad that they can't be redeemed. Todoroki seems like one of these people.

"Did I say something wrong, Kacchan?"

There's a distinct edge of fear to Deku's voice as he questions me, nervousness etched into his posture. He's not afraid of me, perse, but likely the memory of saying or doing something wrong around the bastard who kidnapped him.

"No, Deku. I was just thinking, that's all." I explain, turning my agitated attention back to him. "I see you're just as easily upset now as you were when we were kids."

A twinge of fondness creeps back into his downcast eyes, his shoulders shrugging with bashful acceptance. "Maybe, but you always look mad so it's not all my fault."

Well, that's probably true. Can't help it though—I look just like my mother, and she's got major resting bitch face. Does Deku remember his mother, I wonder? Damn it. He probably doesn't even know Auntie got remarried to some hot-shot detective that solved every case but his own stepsons.

"Heh, yeah, sure Deku..." I mumble, my palms beginning to sweat from the unnerving realization.

He shifts in his seat and I can see his eyes flickering to the more obvious injuries I received in my fight with Todoroki. It's not difficult to figure out what he's thinking about... never has been. "I'm fine, Deku. I've only ever lost one fight in my entire life and after that, I swore I would never lose another, especially not to some lightweight like your new best bud."

"But you're still mad about it, aren't you?" he questions in a whisper, voice squeaking like it's stuck behind a lump in his gulping throat. "You're still mad at him?"

"You don't have to say it, Deku. I know I was supposed to be your substitute friend when Todoroki isn't around. Now you're bummed because it won't happen after I ruined his pretty-boy face with my fists." I snort, rolling my sore shoulders.

No contest, I would have won that fight if the ancient hag hadn't tased me, but an average punk or even a decently trained thug would have a tough time against Todoroki. It's no wonder he allegedly has a hefty kill list of his own.

Deku shrinks down even further, fidgeting like he used to when he wanted to do something and didn't think I'd agree to do it with him. "Shoto said I could still pick who I wanted to be my new friend... He said that if I wanted it to be you then he'd be okay with it..."

"Yeah?" I huff while resisting the urge to crack my swollen knuckles. 'Okay with it' is probably the exact opposite of how Todoroki feels about me being Deku's new friend.

He wasn't exaggerating the influence his wealth and family name bring though. Taking Deku by force wouldn't go well even with the mercenary connections I have. Then there's the blatantly obvious trauma. I've seen enough PTSD to know that Deku's mind is one crack away from breaking beyond repair.

The conversation I had with Todoroki during my initially favorable interview hums like a wasp in my ears. Though I hadn't known it was my long-lost friend he was speaking about, the way he described Deku's instability isn't something to be taken lightly. Uprooting him now, especially since he seems content here, isn't a safe thing to do, no matter how worried I am about my potential employer's homicidal nature.

I was offered a job as a protector, a friend. Someone to prevent others from taking advantage of Deku's inherently kind, naive mind and actions while helping him have fun. It's a more extreme version of our friendship dynamic from when we were brats... a second chance for me to protect him like I'd sworn to do before. Besides, it's already been sixteen years since I promised to bring him home; I can bide my time a little longer.

Forcing my impatience down as far as I can, I take another deep breath. "Deku, you were and always will be my best friend. I'll play nice with the frosty-haired twerp if it'll make you happy."

His nose scrunches at the nickname, but he's too relieved and happy to scold me. Yeah... I can play nice. No fucking problem. My personality is just flaming crap mixed with garbage and Todoroki is certifiably insane. What could possibly go wrong?

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Thank you for waiting on the update! I appreciate all your support! :)