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Katsuki was tired. Parts of his body ached as if they’d been skewered with a hot poker.
And his head. His head was throbbing to the beat of his heart, and god he was so tired.
“Are you okay?” a voice like a distant dream asked, water sloshing around them. Katsuki realised only then that the unpleasant feeling on his lower body was caused by his pants being completely soaked in. “It would’ve been bad if you’d hit your head,” the familiar voice continued.
Katsuki raised his eyes from his soaked lap to the hand offered to him, and then to the face that had been carved on his heart for the past decade.
Four-year-old Izuku gasped, “Kacchan! You got so big!” he hopped from foot to foot, splashing water everywhere. “Is that your hero costume? Are those grenade hands? That’s so cool!”
Katsuki reached out, clamping down on Izuku’s shoulders to still him, and huffed out a little laugh, “Yeah, this is my hero costume, and these-” he said showing his gauntlets better, “they store my sweat so that I can make bigger explosions without hurting my arms.”
Izuku’s eyes practically sparkled as he timidly reached out to skim the tip of his fingers over the gauntlets, “Sugoi,” he whispered, reverently.
Katsuki felt his heart stutter and drop. This kid, his Deku, has always been so fucking sweet and Katsuki was a monster to him. “Izuku,” his voice rasped.
“Mhm?” Izuku hummed questioningly, still distracted by Katsuki’s gauntlets. He looked up when no sounds came from the older boy in front of him. Between a blink and the next, his bottom lip wobbled, and tears started streaming down his rosy cheeks.
Before Katsuki had the chance to understand what was happening, Izuku had closed the distance between them, climbed on his lap – giving Katsuki barely enough time to take off his gauntlet and steady him before he fell backwards as he stood on his feet on Kacchan’s lap – and clumsily wiped at Katsuki’s face with his tiny hands.
“Don’t cry, Kacchan,” he said between hiccups.
Katsuki brought his hand to his face, and only then realised his eyes had been leaking tears.
Izuku petted Katsuki’s head, “Did you hit your head, after all?”
“Maybe,” Katsuki said, letting himself lean on Deku’s bony shoulder, breathing in the fresh powdery smell of Izuku’s shirt.
“Kacchan needs to be more careful,” Izuku reprimanded, gently combing through Katsuki’s hair as if he were looking for a bump.
Katsuki leaned back, suddenly, “You can’t leave, Izuku,” he said, urgently. He wasn’t sure why it felt so important to tell him that, but his heart was throbbing as if not saying it wasn’t an option at all. As if Deku didn’t promise him he’d stay, everything that made Katsuki who he was would come apart at the seams.
“Kacchan hasn’t called me Izuku in a while,” Deku’s smile was gentle. “Am I not useless anymore?” his face was so goddamn open, genuinely curious, and not hurt at all from the meaning Katsuki gave to that stupid nickname all these years ago that it shattered Katsuki’s heart, once and for all.
“You’ve never been useless, Izuku,” he rasped, “I’m sorry for ever saying that- you- I was a dumb kid, okay? I was cruel to you, and I’m so, so sorry.”
Izuku gripped Katsuki under his chin and forced him to meet his eyes. Izuku’s baby face was scrunched up in a frown. “Don’t be mean to my Kacchan,” he pawed at Katsuki’s face, trying to wipe away the tears that at some point started leaking out again, smearing them all over Katsuki’s face instead. “Besides,” Izuku’s face softened in his usual gentle smile, “I’m the Deku that tries his best, right?” And for a moment he sounded just like older Deku, Katsuki’s Deku. “It’s my hero name now.”
How do you know?
Katsuki’s heart started pounding again, and he realised Deku never promised not to leave. “Deku, you can’t leave, you have to tell me you won’t, tell me-”
“Baka Kacchan,” Izuku interrupted, gripping his face between his small hands. “Where would I go without my Kacchan?” He smiled, bright like the sun when Katsuki leaned into his small palms. “I’d get lost.”
“I’d get lost, too,” Katsuki told him. It felt imperative for Izuku to understand that.
“Nah, Kacchan is sugoi,” Deku giggled, and before Katsuki could deny that, Izuku stood on his tippy-toes and smooched the top of his head. “When I get hurt Okaa-san gives me a kiss and the hurt goes away just like magic!”
Katsuki blinked.
“Did it work for Kacchan, too?” Izuku inclined his head, just like a puppy.
Katsuki nodded, mutely. Strangely enough, it was the truth, too.
“Okaa-san knows best,” Izuku said, blinding him with another of his stupid smiles, and slid off Katsuki before he could say anything. He dropped on the water with a merry splash and turned to Katsuki, his little hand already held towards him in offer. “Let’s come out of the water,” he said.
And finally, Katsuki accepted the hand, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a ghost of a smile in answer to Izuku’s bright one and let himself be pulled out the cold to the warmth of his childhood friend.
̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙
Izuku blinked awake. His whole body throbbed and ached, but when he tried to lift his arm, he found that he could. He sighed, relieved. He didn’t remember what happened that landed him in a hospital bed, yet again, but whatever it was it must’ve not been that bad if he could still move.
The sound of quiet sniffles and hiccups alerted him to someone else’s presence, “Stupid Deku,” a small voice that Deku would recognise anywhere muttered between sobs.
Deku sat up, aches forgotten, “Kacchan?”
The four-year-old version of Kacchan was rubbing at his eyes a breath away from Izuku’s hospital bed. He took his hands away from his face and looked up, “Deku?” he asked, voice trembling.
Izuku was sliding off the bed and kneeling in front of Kacchan before he could even think to move, “Kacchan,” he reached out but stopped right before touching, not knowing if it would be welcome.
Kacchan made the decision for him, stepping right into his space, and taking a fistful of Izuku’s hospital gown, “Deku,” he shook him, his chubby face scrunched up in anger, “I called Deku’s stupid name fifty-eight times and you wouldn’t wake up!”
“I’m sorry,” Deku said, wiping away the wetness on little Kacchan’s face with his thumbs, “Don’t cry,” he whispered, his heart cracking a little when Kacchan’s tears kept leaking out.
“I’m not crying!” Kacchan sniffled loudly, “who said I’m crying?!”
Izuku couldn’t help a choked little laugh, “My bad, sorry.”
Kacchan took a deep shuddering breath and stared at him. His tears finally stopping. He reached out to wipe at Izuku’s face, “stupid Deku is crying, too, now.”
“Ah, sorry, but you know me,” Izuku huffed out with a small smile, “if Kacchan hurts, I hurt, too.”
Kacchan squished his face between his small palms and leaned in, “Baaa-ka,” he proclaimed, with his serious little face.
Izuku held Kacchan’s hands between his own and leaned into his palms, smiling brightly, “yeah.”
Kacchan huffed, and grabbed Izuku’s hand, “C’mon get up, I don’t like it here, let’s go away.”
Izuku looked around them and only then realised how odd the place they were in was. It was grey.
Just empty greyness: his bed being the only thing occupying it beside the two of them.
He frowned, thinking it odd, but Kacchan had started to pull at him so he got up and looked to where Kacchan was pointing.
There was a doorway, emitting a bright light, which Deku thought was the only reason why they weren’t completely plunged in the darkness of the greyness.
Kacchan stopped walking after only a few paces and Izuku looked at him in askance.
Kacchan stared at him hard, then reached out both of his arms towards him, “Pick me up,” he demanded, imperiously. “You’re big now, you can.”
Izuku tried really hard not to coo out loud, and in the end, it came out as a choked off squeak. He bent down, quick to obey, afraid Kacchan would change his mind, otherwise.
Once Kacchan settled on Izuku’s hip, he pointed towards the doorway of light, and said, “Let’s go!” kicking his feet a little.
Izuku let himself marvel at the warmth of the small body he was holding, the tickle of Kacchan’s spiky hair on the side of his neck, soothing some part deep inside his chest.
And he walked them towards the light, because really, when was he ever able to refuse his Kacchan?
̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙
Deku led him through a narrow dirt path, never letting go of Katsuki’s hand until they reached a patch of grass. Deku let go then, to take a few steps on it, his feet curling on the dewy grass as if revelling on the softness of it.
Only then did Katsuki realise, Deku had no shoes on, “Deku! Where are your shoes?”
The little weirdo didn’t deign him with an answer, just proceeded to hop from foot to foot. His giggles a balm on Katsuki’s heart. “It’s so soft, com’ere! Come!” he said, making grabby hands at him.
Katsuki kneeled in front of him because he didn’t even know how to refuse the little nerd at this point.
But as soon as he did, Izuku gasped and his eyes were already brimming with tears, “Kacchan!”
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Katsuki asked half panicked, already picking Deku up and checking for wounds.
“You’re hurt!” Deku whined, loudly, one of his hand reaching to touch at Katsuki’s neck.
Katsuki frowned, putting Deku back down now that he knew was okay, to check on himself. And sure enough, his hero costume was gone, replaced by a hospital gown.
Sharp pain in his stomach alerted him that there was a companion to the wound on his neck.
He wondered for a moment at how he was wearing something different from his hero costume and found it odd that he was feeling pain and noticing these wounds only now, but the thought was fleeting, hard to grasp like a soap bubble bursting before he could even touch it.
Deku brought him back to the present moment, getting in Katsuki’s space like no-one’s business. He was still crying silently, his face a mess as he gingerly touched the bandage on Katsuki’s neck. “How’d you get hurt?”
“I-” Katsuki wrinkled his brows, as he thought hard, “You- older you was fighting a Villain and the Villain was about to hurt you really bad, and I didn’t think, my body just moved to push you away,” he finished, thinking he was remembering right, but not being absolutely sure. It all felt like a distant dream. His head was pounding again.
“Kacchan protected me?” Deku asked, his eyes shining.
And Katsuki’s chest might’ve just cracked open then; his ribcage gaping, showing his bloody pumping heart for Deku to do whatever he wanted with it. “Yeah,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a lopsided smile, “t’was about time, huh?”
“No!” Deku yelled, giving Katsuki a heart attack, as the little body barrelled into him, and tiny fists closed on Katsuki’s shirt. “Kacchan got hurt because of me!” he wailed, smothering his sobs on Katsuki’s chest.
Katsuki wrapped one arm around Deku and rubbed his back with the other, never so glad of them being free of his gloves and weapons. “But baby, if I hadn’t you would’ve gotten really hurt.”
“Ba-ka Kac-chan,” Deku said, between hiccups, “Don’t you know, still?” his eyes were so wide and wet. “When Kacchan hurts, I hurt, too,” he said, letting go of Katsuki’s shirt with one hand in order to bring it to his own, right above his heart, “in here, it hurts so bad,” he told him, his face scrunching up as if the pain was unbearable.
Katsuki hugged him close and rocked them, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, “But I don’t regret it, okay? I’m sorry, but I don’t, baby. I’d do it all over again because you’re alive,” he pulled Deku back so that he could see his face, “you’re alive and that’s all that matters.”
Deku, if possible, cried even harder at that, and wrapped one arm around Katsuki’s unharmed side. He mumbled something, and Katsuki strained to hear him, until he finally caught it, “My hero.”
Katsuki buried his face in Izuku’s curls, too overwhelmed to even pretend that this kid hadn’t just sledgehammered through every single one of his defences and managed to etch himself in Katsuki’s very bones. He held him closer and his voice rasped when he replied with, “and you are mine.”
̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙
The doorway led to a vaguely familiar narrow path framed by tall grass from each side. Izuku could hear the sound of trickling water from a little stream nearby.
Kacchan had settled in his arms as if he were at home, with his head comfortably leaning on Izuku’s shoulder. From time to time he would turn his face into Izuku’s warmth and nuzzle his cheek against Izuku’s as if he were a kitten looking for pets.
At one point, Izuku had given in and dropped a kiss on top of Kacchan’s head, and almost immediately froze when he felt baby Kacchan tense. He waited, holding his breath, and then he felt Kacchan relax and reach up to hold Izuku’s face between his little palms. Kacchan had peered up at him. “Do it again,” he’d demanded in his little imperious tone.
Needless to say, Izuku had stopped walking and proceeded to smother the kid with years and years of pent-up affection in the form of little kisses all over Kacchan’s face.
The sound of Kacchan’s little giggles was music to his ears and Izuku’s chest was so full he thought it might crack open. He’d never heard Kacchan laugh so freely and unabashedly in front of him.
Kacchan settled back on him, then, and they resumed walking. Izuku didn’t know where he was going, he was just following the path and the sound of water, cheek resting gently on Kacchan’s soft, spiky hair. For the first time in a long while, Izuku felt at peace, completely and utterly content.
And then baby Kacchan jolted, straightening up so fast Izuku had to lean back, barely avoiding Kacchan’s head from hitting his chin.
“Deku!” Kacchan was kicking his feet and elongating his body, trying to turn himself into a wet noodle and making it impossible for Izuku to hold him.
“Okay, okay, I got it,” Izuku huffed, putting him down.
And as soon as he did, Kacchan sprinted down calling out, “Deku!”
Izuku picked up his pace, following the little kid, confused, “Kacchan, I’m right here.”
“No! I’m talking about my Deku!” Kacchan was kind enough to explain.
Izuku blinked, still at loss. But before he could ask what he meant, he heard another tiny voice – his own tiny voice call “Kacchan!” and stared, as a four-year-old version of himself showed up out of nowhere and barrelled into baby Kacchan with his arms open wide.
Kacchan’s own arms were held open, and Izuku watched as the two children hugged each other as they hadn’t seen one another in years and as if they were each other’s absolute, number one, favourite person.
Izuku thought he could melt by the cuteness of it all, but also sighed wistfully wondering what it would feel like to be hugged by a Kacchan that was the same dimensions as him. Baby Izuku was living the dream, as far as Izuku was concerned. And then,
“Deku?” A rough voice sounded to his right.
Izuku turned his wide eyes towards it, “Kach-”
And he knew in that moment, for sure, that everything – all of this was a dream, because older Kacchan, his Kacchan, wrapped him in his arms and hugged him hard, cheek squished against Izuku’s own as if he would never want to let go. “Deku,” Kacchan repeated, choked, “Fuck.”
Izuku agreed with the sentiment and reached around to hug him back, afraid Kacchan would let go of him too soon, if he didn’t. “Kacchan, hey,” he sniffled. He was so happy.
“Are you crying?” Kacchan leaned back to look at him, and smirked when he saw he was right, “Nerd,” he teased, softly.
“Shut up,” Izuku smiled, brightly, and then he gasped, catching sight of Kacchan’s bandages, “Kacchan! You’re hurt!”
“You’re one to talk,” Kacchan snorted, looking pointedly at Izuku’s everything covered in bandages. “Come,” he said, dragging Izuku towards the grass and pushing down on his shoulders until he sat down on it.
From where they were, they could easily see the younger versions of themselves playing together. Baby Kacchan was holding baby Izuku’s hand as they observed a ladybug on a strand of grass.
Izuku lied down on the grass, smiling to himself and feeling utter contentment settling deep into his bones. “I don’t think I want to ever wake up from this dream.”
“Whose dream do you think it is?” Kacchan is still watching over the younger versions of themselves, “Mine or yours?”
Izuku frowned, opening his eyes. What an odd question. “Mine, of course.”
Kacchan turned to look at him with raised eyebrows, “What makes you so sure?”
“You hugged me,” Izuku said simply. It earns him a glare from Kacchan.
“Fuck. You.”
“What?” Izuku sat up, “You’d never be caught dead hugging me if this wasn’t a dream from my own subconscious.”
“Dream of me hugging you often, huh?”
“Every day,” Izuku admitted, easily. Because it was his dream.
Kacchan stared at him at loss for a moment, then looked away, grumbling lowly to himself. “You’re so dumb.”
Izuku laughed, humming contently, “I guess.”
“Do you know where we are, then?”
“It’s near the little stream you fell in, isn’t it?” he looked at Kacchan, his gaze soft, “did you accept my hand, this time?”
“Yeah,” Kacchan said, his voice rough.
“That makes me really happy,” Izuku told him softly, watching the gentle breeze ruffle Kacchan’s wild mane.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to reach back to you,” Kacchan replied, eyes wet and honest.
Izuku hugged his knees to his chest, and leaned down to rest his cheek against them, looking up at Kacchan with a small smile, “I was ready to give you another decade.”
“Haah?” Kacchan looked at him indignantly, “You thought it’d take me that long to come around like I’m some kind of loser who can’t deal with his own shitty feelings?”
Izuku shook his head, laughing a little, “No, I was just ready to give you all the time you needed.”
“Why?” Kacchan asked as if it were punched out of him, breathless and searching Izuku’s face for some clue. “I don’t deserve it. Not after everything I’ve done to you.”
Izuku glared at him, straightening up, “I’ve already forgiven you for that, and you made it up to me time and time again when you helped me train these past few months, and when-” he choked, suddenly remembering how Kacchan got the wounds the bandages were covering. “Kacchan, you shouldn’t have done that. You don’t need to atone for anything-”
“Spare me,” Kacchan snorted, “Four-year-old you already yelled at me for it, and fuck you,” He matched Izuku’s glare with one of his own, “I wasn’t thinking about atoning when that shithead was about to skewer you like some piece of meat.” He stared Izuku right in the eyes, as he went on, “It just happened, I moved before I could even think. Like you did when I was caught in the sludge. Same thing, so don’t sit here and even think about scolding me for it when you did the same exact thing.”
Izuku held his glare for a little while, then sighed, the fight going out of him with it. His vision blurred, “I don’t like it when you get hurt because of me.”
“Tough shit, asshole. Oi- don’t cry on me now,” he added when he noticed Izuku’s tears.
“Sorry,” Izuku mumbled, rubbing his face on the top of his knees.
“You’re so embarrassing,” Kacchan said while combing lightly through Izuku’s curls. His touch so soft and careful as if here trying to learn and memorise the feel of it against the pads of his fingers.
“Kacchan, you have to know,” Izuku said, heart in his eyes, leaning into Kacchan’s touch, ready to spill everything out, because it was okay. It was a dream. “I lo-”
Kacchan covered his mouth with one of his hands, “Not here,” he glared. “Wake up, Izuku. You gotta wake up.”
“I don’t want to,” Izuku whined. “I like it here.”
“Well, I like it when you’re not in a fucking coma,” Kacchan snapped. “And if you care about me,” he continued, slightly choked off. “Then, you’ll wake up.”
Izuku reached up to grasp Kacchan’s hand in his and dropped a kiss on his battle-worn knuckles. “If that’s what Kacchan wants, then…” He trailed off, glancing one last time at their four-year-old selves as they giggled and said goodbye to him before he closed his eyes and laid back down.
He felt and heard Kacchan laying down beside him, their hands still interlocked.
The breeze caressed his damp face, and he felt the familiar softness of Kacchan’s hair on his neck.
Wake up, Deku.
̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙
Izuku blinked awake to the steady beeping of machinery he was more than familiar with at this point. He tried to move and immediately groaned in discomfort. He didn’t hurt exactly, but his body felt like it weighed a ton.
He stared at the ceiling blankly for a long while, trying to assess if his body could feel anything at all.
After a while, he realised there was something soft and sort of fluffy, tickling his neck, and he tried to look at it.
It was a shock of spiky, blond hair.
His heart stuttered to a stop and then started pounding, as every event of the battle with Shigaraki came back to him, “Kacchan?”
Kacchan let out a groan as he sat himself up on the chair near the hospital bed, from where he’d fallen asleep with his head resting near Deku’s own. “What?” he griped, and then blinked, staring at Izuku’s open eyes with a blank expression before his eyes widened with realisation, “Deku?”
“Hi, Kacchan,” Izuku laughed a little, his eyes already wet, so relieved to see his childhood friend awake and sitting up and glaring at him.
“You fucking shithead,” Kacchan hissed at him, “I thought you were gonna die on me.”
“Not yet,” Izuku said, eyes impossibly soft.
“Not ever,” Kacchan corrected with a glare, “you’re not going to die on me ever, I’ll fucking kill you if you do.”
“Got it,” Izuku smiled, “You know, you were cuter when you were smaller.”
Kacchan’s eyes widened, and then he smirked triumphally, “I told you it wasn’t your dream.”
Izuku’s eyebrows lifted, “I guess it was ours both,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Weird. How do you think was that possible? A quirk of some sort that made us share the same dream? Or not really, it was more like we met in the same dream, wasn’t it? If that’s so, that’s such a wonderful quirk,” he smiled to himself, thinking back of child Kacchan and just how adorable he was. He kind of missed him.
“Well?”
Izuku looked up at his Kacchan in askance. Kacchan just stared at him, and then glared, his jaw working as if he were munching on his words. “What?”
“You’re awake now,” Kacchan told him, “Anything to say to me that I didn’t let you while we were fucking dreaming?”
“Oh yeah,” Izuku said, smile bright. “I love you.”
Kacchan’s breath stuttered, the tip of his ears getting adorably flushed. Then, he nodded and said, “Good.” He looked at Izuku straight in the eyes, “Me too.”
It was Izuku’s time to get flustered, his chest catching, his heart learning how to beat to the sound of this new truth. “Kacchan,” he said, and then more urgent, “Kacchan come here, I can’t move!”
Kacchan snorted, the sound so ugly and undignified it punched out a hysterical giggle from Izuku. Kacchan shook his head as he reached out to hold Izuku’s face between his palms. “You’re an embarrassment to society.”
“Maybe,” Izuku shrugged. “But you love me anyway.”
“Yeah,” Kacchan said, nuzzling his nose against Izuku’s. “Yeah, I do,” and he kissed him, the gentlest brush of lips against Izuku’s own. “And you better never forget that.”
Izuku tilted his face up to kiss Kacchan more firmly, and promised, “I won’t.”
And they were far from safe, Izuku couldn’t move an inch of his body this time around, and he’d worry about that later, but for now – for now it was okay, because Kacchan reached back to him, and well, it was years in the making.