Curate, connect, and discover
Are you caught up on MHA? If so, could you write something with Katsuki and Izuku talking some more after the war (follow up to their conversation in CH424)?
Yes, I'm all caught up! Sorry this one took so long, but I hope you enjoy it!
Author's note: it starts a little mushy but this could be read as platonic bakugou & izuku or pre-slash bkdk, whatever you fancy. there's nothing explicitly romantic but they are very important to each other and i find that so charming! lol anyways, 1,866 words, mha manga spoilers ahead. happy reading!
Izuku could recognize Kacchan in the dark. He knew the shape of his voice, the scent of his sweat, the spark-crackle-pop of his quirk. Izuku knew the feel of Kacchan’s hands on his shoulder. In his hair. On his back.
Izuku knew him bloodied and unmoving on the ground.
It’s a relief, Izuku thinks, to know him now by the sound of a rolling IV stand.
“The nurse told you not to walk around so much, Kacchan.”
The rolling in the hallway slams to a sudden halt and Izuku imagines that Kacchan is annoyed at being caught. Then it starts up again at a slightly faster pace and Izuku hardly has the time to smile before Kacchan’s scowling figure passes through the doorway to Izuku’s hospital room.
“You put a fucking tracking chip on me or something?” he complains.
“Kacchan,” Izuku protests- weakly, he’ll admit- joy and relief jumping to take control of his brain at the sight of Kacchan, alive- but it’s the attempt that counts.
“‘S not even that fuckin far,” Kacchan replies, the tinny chik-chik-chik of squeaky wheels on tile following him across the floor before he settles himself in the visitor’s chair beside Izuku’s cot. “The view’s better in here, anyway.”
Izuku hums, turning his gaze beyond Kacchan’s swaying IV bag to All Might’s empty cot. The retired hero goes to physical therapy on Thursday afternoons, now, and every time the doctors take off one of his casts or bandages, Izuku feels like he can breathe a little easier.
“That’s true.”
Izuku doesn’t think the sight of All Might will ever not be comforting to him.
Kacchan clicks his tongue in annoyance and presses one finger against Izuku’s unbandaged cheek, turning his head.
“I’m talking about the fucking window, fanboy.”
Izuku startles, a small laugh falling from his lips as he obligingly turns towards the window instead. A few tree branches gently brush against the glass and in the distance he can make out the big silver fountain that rests in the middle of the hospital’s courtyard.
“Oh, yeah that’s nice, too,” Izuku agrees absentmindedly. He’s not sure what Kacchan can see from his own hospital room but he’s pretty sure it’s not much different from this one.
Kacchan shifts like he wants to cross his arms, then scowls and starts tapping his nails against the armrest instead with a huff.
Izuku watches the steady rise and fall of Kacchan’s chest, unsure if he should say anything. Unsure why Kacchan keeps coming to his room in the first place.
Two days ago, Kacchan had muttered something about how being in Izuku’s room made it harder for his mom to track him down and nag him and the week before it was because he had beef with the nurse on duty and wanted to make her life difficult.
But even after a lifetime of analyzing Kacchan, all Izuku can really discern now is that there’s something more pulling Kacchan to the plastic chair by Izuku’s bedside.
Izuku hates the not-knowing. He thinks he’d hate it more, though, if Kacchan got what he needed and stopped sneaking out to visit him, so he stays quiet.
Childishly, he wants to poke Kacchan back but both of his arms are still mummified and unusable so he contents himself with imagining it.
“The fuck are you smiling about?”
“Nothing,” Izuku lies, gazing happily at Kacchan’s familiar scowl. “You’ll get wrinkles, Kacchan.”
Kacchan narrows his eyes.
“You’ll get a fist in your face.”
“You’ll get knuckle pain.”
Kacchan scoffs. “Think your face is made of steel or something? When did you start acting like hot shit, huh?”
“Probably since they started pumping me full of pain meds,” Izuku admits, grinning. “Makes me feel steel-y.”
Kacchan rolls his eyes. “Unbelievable.”
“It’s not as strong as the stuff they had to put All Might on, though,” Izuku continues seriously. “After his surgery, he told me the same story about fighting an American villain with David Shield seven times in a row.”
Kacchan smirks. “And I bet you ate that shit up.”
Izuku flushes and turns his gaze towards the ceiling. “Sometimes the details would change,” he defends.
When Kacchan doesn’t respond, Izuku shifts his gaze back and watches on as Kacchan wrestles with his inability to cross his arms again. Izuku really doesn’t want Kacchan to leave, but…
“Kacchan, if you’re in pain maybe you should-”
“Shitty Hair said we should talk,” Kacchan interrupts.
Izuku fights to sit up straighter in his cot, confused. “Kirishima did?”
He’s grateful when Kacchan doesn’t rush to help him. Doesn’t help him at all, actually, which soothes the constant drone of quirkless-helpless-quirkless that Izuku’s been trying to drown in his subconscious lately.
Izuku hesitates before he bites the bullet.
“...talk about what?”
Izuku’s not sure if it’s a good sign or a bad one that Kacchan seems equally, if not more, uncomfortable.
“...our conversation,” Kacchan finally spits out. “The one we had here.”
These past few weeks, they’ve had a lot of conversations in Izuku and All Might’s shared little hospital room. Most of them pointless. Some of them sweet.
It doesn’t take a genius to know what Kacchan’s referring to, though, and it’s exactly the thing that Izuku would rather leave buried and brushed past so he focuses on Kacchan’s forehead instead of his bullshit-piercing eyes and says,
“Yeah, it was really nice to be recognized by All Might, right? Like, next level awesome. I don’t think I’ll ever emotionally recover from that, actually. I think I was smiling in my sleep that whole-”
“Izuku,” Kacchan says, and it cuts through him like a knife.
“Hm?”
“Cut the crap,” Kacchan says, his glare fading into something softer and more uncertain. “We have shit we have to talk about.”
Izuku gnaws on his bottom lip, uncertain enough to harden his resolve and force out a nervous laugh. The nerves are genuine, anyway.
“I don’t know what you’re-”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Kacchan demands, quietly dangerous. Then he rises from his chair with a scoff. “This is fucking stupid! Why won’t you-?” Kacchan starts to shout, before letting his anger fall from him with one, deep exhale, leaving behind only weariness and a shadow of what looks like resignation.
It looks wrong on Kacchan’s face.
“Fine,” Kacchan sighs. “Whatever. If that’s how you’re gonna be then I’m fucking outta here.”
“I-” Izuku catches one glimpse of Kacchan’s back and his hardened resolve collapses like a child's toy tower. “Wait, wait no! Kacchan, I’m sorry! I’m- I’m sorry. We can talk about…it. About what you want, just please don’t...”
“Wasn’t gonna leave forever,” Kacchan mutters, not quite facing Izuku but not walking towards the door, either.
Izuku tastes salt on his lips before he even realizes he’s crying. “Promise?”
Kacchan’s head whips around so quickly Izuku can’t help but imagine that he’d pulled on some invisible string.
“I’m not fucking leaving you,” Kacchan says, voice angry and honest in a way that soothes the awful pang in Izuku’s chest that the doctors have assured him isn’t physical. “This is why we need to talk, you stupid nerd.”
Izuku hiccups and nods, releasing slow streams of breath from his mouth until he feels he has his voice under control.
Kacchan moves back into the chair, alternating between watching him and the monitors still hooked up to Izuku’s vitals.
“I’m…I’m okay,” Izuku finally says.
“I’m not,” Kacchan replies bluntly. “Lie to me again and I’ll break your stupid skull.”
Izuku freezes, then lets himself sink morosely into the pillow behind him. “Sorry,” he whispers.
“Don’t be sorry,” Kacchan scolds. “Be honest.”
Izuku darts a considering glance towards Kacchan, but he seems sincere, so Izuku murmurs, “You sound kind of like a preschool teacher right now.”
Kacchan jolts under the observation, clearly not expecting it. Then he regains his bearings and jabs a finger in front of Izuku’s nose. “Then stop acting like a guilty little snot-nosed runt!”
“...Okay.”
“Okay.”
“What…now?” Izuku asks.
Kacchan sighs deeply through his nose, slumping back in his chair as he thinks it over.
“Now…I apologize,” he finally says.
Izuku frowns. “But you already-”
“I know,” Kacchan interrupts stiffly, belatedly scratching at his nose, brow furrowing uncomfortably while he peers past Izuku and towards the silver fountain in the distance. “But I…” Kacchan starts, before his eyes suddenly jump back to Izuku. “And I’m only gonna say it once, understand?”
Izuku nods. “I have my listening ears on, Kacchan.”
“Your-” he starts to repeat, incredulous, before scoffing and turning back towards the window. The hint of a smile Izuku had managed to coax out turns down again, drawing out the unhappy wrinkles in Kacchan’s forehead.
“When the doc said I might not be able to use my arm again and that half of my quirk, I…fuck. I thought about how you never had one to start with and how it never slowed you down so like hell was I gonna chop the damn limb off and not do rehab. I’d kick rehab’s ass. Of course I could, full quirk or no, because you could.”
Izuku’s breath catches in his throat.
“And that’s…that’s something you gave to me.”
Kacchan’s eyes slowly find Izuku’s, searing through him, blood and bone, with their intensity.
“That’s something I took from you.”
“Kacchan-”
“I’m sorry, Izuku.”
Izuku rapidly shakes his head. “No, Kacchan you…you gave me a symbol of victory.”
Kacchan’s mouth twists. “You’ve said.”
“But you don’t get it. I…” Izuku squeezes his eyes shut tight, face already growing warm. “It’s…you have no idea how much of my heroism was just…yours. Yours that you gave me and that I relied on when I didn’t have time to think.” Izuku lets out a shaky laugh. “I always wanted to save people with a smile because of All Might, but…the smile I wore when it mattered was yours, Kacchan.”
Izuku tentatively peeks one eye open, surprised to find Kacchan so stunned. Surprised that he didn’t already know, but…
Maybe they have a lot more to learn about each other, after all.
“I became a hero because of you.”
Kacchan frowns.
“And in spite of you,” Izuku concedes. “It’s all…mixed up. In my head. But I don’t…I wouldn’t have traded a second of it.”
Kacchan startles under the declaration, peering back at Izuku with wide, searching, crimson eyes that Izuku thinks he’s seeing more clearly than he ever has before.
“You wouldn’t?” Kacchan asks.
Izuku shakes his head earnestly. “No, of course not,” he murmurs. “Kacchan’s amazing.”
Kacchan blinks. Hard. Tears well up in his waterline.
“Izuku’s amazing, too,” he says, scrubbing pointlessly at his face. “Even though he’s a fucking stupid sap who’s always saying embarrassing shit.”
Izuku laughs brightly, even though he’s crying too.
“I’ll kick rehab’s ass before you’re even outta that damn cot!” Kacchan announces.
“Nuh uh,” Izuku shoots back happily. “I’ll be so Plus Ultra once these casts are off, you won’t even believe it!”
Kacchan stops wiping his eyes and peers back at Izuku through his fingertips, a genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“I’d believe it,” he says.
And Izuku? He feels a little bit put-together, after that.