"Look. I know this isn't easy, but it's best if you take him home. Surround him with familiar things. It's the best thing for him right now." The doctor looks like he wants to pat him on the shoulder, but quickly changes his mind when he sees the scowl on his face.

Bakugou scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. Was it really what was best for him? He highly doubts it. Don't get him wrong, though. There was nothing more in the world that he wanted than to take his boyfriend home. But he's not sure if that was really the best thing for Shouto. And Shouto deserved the fucking best.

They had responded to a call. It was your routine, average villain attack. Or so they thought. This dude gave them a run for their money. They managed to take him down, but not before he'd destroyed a chunk of the city and bashed Todoroki's head in. It was bad. Bakugou had never felt so scared in his entire life as he did when he found Shouto lying in the rubble, blood pooling around his head like a halo and caked in his hair that was no longer two-toned, but one awful shade of crimson.

Doctors told him it wasn't likely he'd make it through the night. But when he did, they said it wasn't likely he'd ever wake up from his coma, and chances were, the person he was would be gone. He'd be empty. A vegetable. The shell of the man he loved. They told him to not get his hopes up, but how could he not? How could he so easily walk away from the only person he's truly cared about his entire life? He remained at his bedside, hoping against hope that somehow, miraculously, it'd all work out.

He couldn't sleep. Nightmares plagued him even when he was awake. Life was a living hell. He refused to consider that Shouto would be gone even if he woke up, despite everyone warning him that it was unhealthy to reject reality. Deku told him it would be better to be prepared mentally for the inevitability, but he just brushed him off. He knew the green idiot was right, but how could he do that?

When Shouto finally woke up, Bakugou wanted to scream in everyone's faces that he was right. That Shouto can defy the odds. And then, when Shouto looked around the room, his eyes weren't empty. He was there and Bakugou wanted to go blow something up. He could hardly contain his excitement that his love had proven the doctors wrong. But it was short-lived.

Todoroki's eyes scanned over his sister, then his brother, but when his gaze met Deku's and, finally, his, Katsuki noticed how his brows had scrunched together. There was no recognition there.

To say that Katsuki's heart shattered was an understatement.

Doctors tried reassuring him that this was to be expected after such a traumatic brain injury. The fact that he's alive and talking and not brain dead was a miracle. And yes, it truly was. Bakugou knew that. And he was so grateful. But it was hard to come to terms with the fact that Shouto has amnesia. Shouto has no memory of anything starting from the time he enrolled at UA. Everything before UA was intact. Everything during and after? Gone. No memory of the friends he'd made or the villains they'd fought. The war. Graduation. Bakugou asking him out for the first time. The fact that they've lived together for the last three years.

The love of his life has no memory that he even exists. After everything they've been through, they're strangers all over again. It hurt. Bakugou feels like he's dying. Being impaled by Shigaraki hadn't hurt as much as this does. And there's no fix. Nothing he can do to make it better.

He watches the doctor walk away from him. The doctor wants him to take Shouto home. Katsuki gets it. He does. Surround him with his life. Familiar things. And maybe it'll jog his memory. But the problem Katsuki has is that Shouto doesn't know him. Why would Shouto want to live with a complete stranger? To be told that he has a boyfriend that he has no memory of and that he should go live with him. Bakugou can only imagine how terrifying that would be. Especially with Shouto's past.

It was his time at UA that had allowed Todoroki to trust people and make friends. But that's all gone now. At least Enji has had the decency to stay away once he realized his memory was compromised. All his efforts to do better for his children now forgotten.

Bakugou shoves his hands into his pants pockets with a sigh. There wasn't really anything to think about. No choice to make. He may not think this was the best next step, but there wasn't any alternative. There was no way in hell he'd let Shouto go home with any of the Todoroki's. His mind is already stuck in the past. He needs to get away from his childhood trauma and into his actual life, whether he remembers it or not.

He enters Shouto's room. Mismatched eyes immediately lock onto him. He shuffles over to the bedside and sits heavily in the chair he hadn't occupied as much as he would've liked since Shouto regained consciousness.

"So, um," he starts. How do you talk to someone you have an intimate relationship with that doesn't even remember you? How do you start from scratch? "I don't know, uh, if anyone has talked to you yet." His eyes search Shouto's for understanding. If he'd already been filled in about the situation, he didn't want to have to say it. But Shouto's guarded eyes reveal nothing.

"You and I," he falters. Why is this so hard? "You and I, uh…fuck!" He says the last word softly, but he doesn't miss the way Shouto's eyes widen. His widen as well when he realizes what he said. "No, no, that's not what I meant! I mean, we do, but…I didn't mean it like that!" Talk about shooting himself in the foot. He takes a deep breath and starts over.

"What I meant to say was that you and I have been dating for the last three years. We met at UA." He stops to gauge his reaction.

"We date?" Shouto looks beyond surprised. "You and me?"

"Yes, Icyhot. You're my boyfriend. We have an apartment together and everything. We work at the same agency as Deku. The green one. Izuku," he clarifies when Shouto looks confused. "The doctor wants me to take you home. To our home. To help you remember."

Shouto's face is blank.

"Say something," he says gruffly.

Shouto shrugs. "Okay."

"That's it? 'Okay'? Really?" He's not sure what he expected. Apprehension, maybe? But not nonchalance.

"Yeah, I'll go with you to your place. I'm sure it's better than being here."

"Hey, it's our place, not just mine. And you're allowed to have an opinion. If you'd rather go home with Fuyumi, you can say it. It's okay." It's a bluff. He doesn't want him to go with his sister. He wants to take him home, but he doesn't want him to feel like he has to. He deserves to have a choice about whether or not he wants to go home with a complete stranger.

He shrugs again. "I'll go with you, Bak…what was it again?"

"Bakugou," he answers.

"Thank you, Bakugou."

As glad as he is to take his boyfriend home, his heart is heavy. He doesn't even remember his name. And it's been years since he's called him that name. Since they started dating, it's always been "Kat". Just "Kat".

Katsuki holds back a sigh and forces a small smile instead. He needs to keep it together. Shouto's been through enough. He doesn't need to see every time he breaks. "I'll go make sure they speed up those discharge papers." His voice is gravelly. He stands and hesitates. Shouto cocks his head in question, but Katsuki just shakes his and walks away, slipping out of the room without another glance. He'd been about to lean forward and give him a peck on the lips like he always does, but he has to remember that this version of Shouto doesn't know him at all.

By the time he gets Shouto home, it's late. They're both exhausted and decide to head to bed, even though the sun is still in the process of setting. Shouto is unsteady on his feet, so he leans into Katsuki as they traverse the parking lot and up the short flight of stairs to their apartment. Katsuki tries to hold it together. Shouto hasn't touched him since his injury. It's been weeks.

Bakugou unlocks the door and leads him inside. He flicks the lights on and watches his face for any glimmer of recognition. But there's none. Shouto takes it all in silently.

"This is nice."

"Tch. I hope so. You're the one who picked it out. I preferred the place a couple blocks down the road, but you fell in love with this one."

He turns to face him. "And you let me have it?" He says it like he's surprised he's allowed to have nice things that he wants. Probably because his old man always denied him everything.

Katsuki's heart clenches, but doesn't let it show. He shrugs. "Yeah, well, this one had a bigger kitchen." He sees Shouto nod, like that makes sense. Like he'd only agree if it benefitted him, as well. He couldn't let him think that, so he adds, "But I liked how it made you smile." He gestures to the window.

Shouto glances from him to the window and hesitantly shuffles over to see. He looks out and sees the setting sun ablaze behind a line of trees. The trees are in full bloom. They're beautiful. He smiles. "Thank you, Bakugou."

They watch the sunset in silence, and when it's over, Shouto yawns. Right. Time for bed. It's only then that he realizes that they have a problem. Their apartment only has one bedroom. One bed. They can't possibly share it. Not with Shouto not even knowing him beyond their brief interactions the last few days.

Katsuki rubs his hand behind his neck. "So, uh, there's only one bed."

Shouto's brows rise. "That's okay. I'll take the couch."

Like hell he'll take the couch. "No. You'll take the bed. I'll take the couch."

"But, it's fine, really."

Why does this idiot have to be so nice? "No, you won't. You'll take the bedroom. I've got the couch. End of discussion." It comes out harsher than he intended, but there was no way he was letting him sleep on the couch. He just got out of the damn hospital, for crying out loud.

Shouto stiffens. "Okay." He drops his gaze.

"Hey," Bakugou says softly. He takes a step closer, but Shouto takes a step back. "Look at me, Shouto."

Obediently, Shouto looks at him, but Bakugou can see a hint of panic in his eyes.

"It's alright," he placates. He reaches out to him, but Shouto visibly flinches. He flinches. He immediately drops his hand and takes a step back. "Hey, hey, hey! I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." Shouto doesn't react. Just stares at him warily. "The bedroom is just through that door over there." He nods with his head, too afraid to lift his hand to point. "Let me know if you need anything."

Shouto nods once, spins on his heel and heads to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Shit, this isn't going to be easy.

Days pass. They interact with each other as little as possible, never saying more than they need to. It feels like living with a roommate, and Katsuki hates it. Despises it. Sometimes he breaks down in the shower, mourning the person he once knew. Each day he crumbles a little more, losing faith that Shouto will come back to him. That he'll remember. He doesn't know how he'll handle it if this is the way it remains and he never gets his Shouto back.

Even though they keep their interactions to a minimum, that doesn't mean that Katsuki isn't doing everything he can for Shouto. He cooks all their meals and makes sure to make soba nearly every day. Sets out Shouto's meds where he'll see them and remember to take them. Tidies up while Shouto sleeps, which is a large chunk of the day with his brain still healing. He launders his clothes and puts them away all neatly folded without being asked. Shouto never brings any of it up, but he hopes he notices it and appreciates it. He's trying to convince him that he's not a threat. That he cares about him. This is the only way he knows how. He's even stopped calling him Shouto. Calling him Todoroki hurts, but Shouto seems to be more comfortable with it.

But even through his efforts, he sees it. He sees how Shouto will flinch anytime he gets too close. How he seems to sink into himself anytime his voice gets loud, which is almost all the time. The way he literally took off running to the bedroom and slammed the door when he was yelling at his old hag on the phone. The way he pales anytime he asks him a question, like he's afraid of not getting the answer right.

It kills him. Every time it happens, a little piece of Katsuki dies. He's not sure how much of himself is left, anymore. And the thing is, he can't even blame him. He knows he's rough around the edges. Loud. Gruff. But that's just how he is. Shouto hadn't minded before. But that was because he knew him. They trained together. Built up trust for each other. Without the context of their past, Katsuki knows he looks like a villain to Shouto. And it kills him to think that he probably doesn't seem much better than Enji. He just hopes, prays, that Shouto knows he's not like him. Will never be like him. If he could strangle that man, he would.

After a couple of weeks, it's the same. Bakugou is really struggling to keep it together. What he wouldn't give to get his boyfriend back, whole and complete.

Bakugou is in the kitchen one evening. He's finishing up cooking dinner while Shouto is setting the table. Bakugou picks up the big pot and goes to take it to the dining room, but as he goes through the doorway, he collides with another body. He drops the pot with a clang and is quick to reach out to Shouto, catching him just before he crashes to the ground.

They both sit on the floor, breathless. Katsuki has his arm protectively around Shouto's shoulders, but when he realizes it, he pulls away.

"Sorry, Shou. I didn't see you. Are you okay? Did you bump your head?" The words come out in a rush as he looks Shouto over. His eyes widen when he realizes what he called him. He hasn't called him that in weeks. "Sorry, Todoroki. I didn't mean to."

Shouto shakes his head. "It's fine, Bakugou. I should've been paying attention. I could hear your heavy boots coming, so I shouldn't have been blocking the doorway."

"Hey, it's not your fault. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. Might have twisted my ankle, though."

Bakugou's eyes widen. "I'm so sorry. Can I see it? I won't hurt you. I promise."

"I know you won't." His eyes stare into Bakugou's.

"I'm…What?" He doesn't know how to respond. As far as he could tell, Shouto's been afraid of him since he brought him home.

"I know you won't hurt me. I can tell that you try not to trigger me. You've been nothing but kind, but I can't help but be jumpy, anyway. It's weird. I can tell you mean well, but I still struggle to be around you. You're rough like my dad, but also, you're nothing like him at all. My brain doesn't know what to do with that."

Bakugou doesn't like being compared to Enji, but he's glad Shouto doesn't think they're the same. Small victories.

"I think," Shouto continues, "I think you're just a dragon fruit."

"I'm a…wait, what? How am I a fruit?!" Now, he's totally lost.

Shouto shrugs. "Prickly and rough on the outside, but soft and sweet on the inside." He states it like it's obvious.

"Huh." Bakugou's at a loss for words. But this is the weird sort of shit he'd expect from Shouto, so he'll take it. "You sure you didn't hit that head of yours?" He lifts a hand. When Shouto doesn't flinch, he runs it over his head softly, checking for any new bumps. "Nah, you're good." But as he slides his fingers from his silky hair, he caresses his cheek. He didn't mean to. It was habit. Muscle memory. But he was glad when Shouto didn't pull away. He cups his cheek. "I'm glad you're okay." Whether he meant the fall he just took or the fact he's alive after his brain injury, he's not sure. Amnesia or not, he's still glad he has him in his life.

Without thinking, he pulls Shouto to his chest and hugs him tightly. He's craved this for far too long. He holds him there, savoring it for as long as Shouto lets him. He hears sniffling and looks down, only to find two wet eyes look up at him.

"Kat?" His voice is so soft, he barely hears it.

"Shou?"

"Kat," he repeats, fists gripping Katsuki's shirt tightly.

He holds him impossibly tighter. It's as if Katsuki can feel the little crumbling bits of himself begin to come back together. He felt a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with either of their quirks.

He thinks he understands now. This is what Shouto needed in order to be brought back. Closeness. Smell. Touch. Things he couldn't get when his mind was still stuck on the childhood trauma that felt like he never escaped. To him, no time had passed. He'd never moved out of his childhood home and gone to UA. And to wake up and move in with Katsuki? Like getting out of the frying pan and into the fire. At least, it would seem. Except that's not how Katsuki really is. It just took him a while to figure that out. He blames Enji for getting in the way. If it weren't for the trauma, he would've held him sooner. It wouldn't have taken so long to get him back.

Shouto finally pulls away. "I'm sorry, Kat."

"I don't know what the fuck you think you have to apologize for, but you don't. I'm just glad you're back."

"Yeah. I've missed this."

"Tch. Not as much as I have."

"I'm sor—" He cuts himself off when he sees Katsuki glare. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Shou." He leans down and gives him a kiss on the lips. "Let me check that ankle of yours." They reluctantly part and Katsuki gingerly picks up Shouto's ankle and inspects it. "Seems alright. Wouldn't be surprised if it bruises, though."

Shouto nods. He frowns as he notices the overturned pot of noodles that Katsuki had made for dinner. Bakugou notices it and shrugs. He stands and bends down to pick up Shouto in his arms.

"What are you doing?" He wraps his arms around his neck.

"Carrying you to bed like the princess you are. I'll order takeout and we'll dine in bed. That alright?"

"Sounds perfect."