Work Text:
Kacchan gave Izuku a list of chores to finish before he gets home from work. There’s a note next to each one, giving very detailed instructions on how he wants it done. That’s very much appreciated. It’s all written down on fun All Might to-do paper he picked up from a stationery shop at, um, some point. He thinks.
1) Take a shower so you don’t stink.
- No bath without supervision. Wash your hair and your face. Do anything else you can stand to do. Soap. Use it. Put on the scar cream when you’re drying off.
2) BRUSH YOUR TEETH. (+ floss)
- No excuses. I will know if you didn’t do it. Brush your damn teeth so they don’t rot out of your thick skull.
3) Breakfast.
- Round Face is stopping by around 9 to have breakfast with you. She knows the details and she knows about this list. Make sure you eat everything on your plate. She knows where the gold star stickers are.
The shower is no problem. He chatters with Bunmight sitting on the sink the whole time, rinsing his hair as quickly as possible and rubbing body wash into his face and chest before getting too bored of the process and scrubbing down.
Brushing his teeth is where the problem lies. It’s always been a problem, though, so he gamely strategizes. This is the first morning he’s had alone without Kacchan practically forcing the peppermint toothpaste into his mouth, so there is a lot more opportunity for flexibility.
You should brush your teeth, Bunmight says, watching him beside the faucet.
“It feels gross,” he whines. “Makes my tongue icky and then I almost puke. I’d rather floss.” And he hates flossing!
He’ll know if you didn’t. He said.
“Will he really know?”
Kacchan knows everything, he says gravely.
Izuku sighs, eying the cup containing their two brushes. His has a fun All Might topper and the handle is cherry red. He wishes this made him more excited to brush his teeth.
“I’ll do it without toothpaste,” he decides.
Izuku.
“I’ll still brush! I hate that icky toothpaste, though. It makes me have pukies in my mouth and that’s probably bad for my, um, dental hygiene stuff too!” He uncaps his toothbrush, running it under the faucet before sticking it in his mouth and scrubbing against his teeth with a grimace.
You need to make sure he doesn’t find out or you won’t get your special trip at the end of the week.
“I’ ’e ’are’ul,” he reassures Bunmight. When he reaches the maximum amount of time he can stand to have this awful thing in his mouth, he spits and washes the bristles.
Okay, Bunmight says, dubious.
“Mmhm. Don’t worry.” He carefully metes out the right amount of toothpaste to wash down the sink.
Uraraka stops by around nine to say hi, which is nice! She cooks breakfast with him and comments on how good he is at scooping out rice. He tells her how good she is at being the coolest and best person ever, besides Kacchan and All Might. That makes her laugh, but it’s not a mean laugh. It’s a really nice laugh.
“Deku-chan, you seem to be doing a lot better today,” she says with a smile that bunches up her cheeks.
He ducks his head, rubbing his nose against Bunmight. “Mm.”
“You were really quiet when I saw you on Saturday.”
“Was scared about Kacchan going back to work ’nd stuff,” he admits.
“Oh, that makes sense.” She hums, sliding half of the tamogoyaki in front of him before sitting down. “But you’re doing okay, right now?”
“Mmhm.” He picks up his chopsticks, glancing at her to make sure he doesn’t start eating first. “Kacchan gave me chores and I’m doing them. If I get them all done for the whole week, Kacchan is taking me to the park on the other side of Musutafu! The big one with the purple slide!”
Uraraka nods. “That’s right. So let’s make sure you eat all your breakfast so that you can stay healthy and grow up to be big and strong, alright?”
He eats a big bite of rice, cheeks bulging. “Mmhm!”
“Oh! I almost forgot our tea. Let me get that.”
He swallows. “Sweet milk tea like from the packet?”
She shoots him a wry smile. “No.”
Eurgh, he doesn’t like other tea very much. “Okay.”
A soft laugh leaves her. “You’re so cute.”
His cheeks flush. “Uh uh.”
“Yes, you are! That little sigh you just gave. You sounded so disappointed, but accepting.”
His lip juts out. “I don’t like the other teas. I like milk tea.”
“I know you do,” she says, “but Bakugou-kun told me to give you ginger because your tummy has been hurting a lot lately, okay?”
He sulks a little, but not too much. He understands what she means and it’s best not to make a fuss. Uraraka is just doing what Kacchan told her to do, and Kacchan has his own reasons, too. Izuku has been getting tummy aches.
“Which of the sweet teas is your favorite, Deku-chan?”
“The little strawberry one,” he answers immediately. “And the matcha one. Kacchan only lets me have them once in a while. He says that the, um, the sugar is bad for me. And the caffeine.”
“Bakugou-kun’s right,” she says, which is exactly what a grown up would say.
She hands him his tea, setting down her own and a third beside Bunmight. Izuku frowns, looking up at her.
She offers a sheepish smile. “I just thought he’d like some.”
“He would,” he says dumbly. “Um, thank you very much.”
Bunmight sits slumped over the cup, his stitched smile unmoving as ever.
“Bunmight says thank you,” Izuku interprets.
Uraraka gives him a smile, eyes scrunching. Then she returns to eating.
Izuku decides to focus on his own plate. Watching Uraraka eat is always a bit of a disturbing affair. (Who knew such a cute girl could open her mouth so wide?)
The food is good. He doesn’t really feel like eating, but he hasn’t felt like eating since mid-July, so he’s getting better at tuning that part out. There was a time, in the beginning, where he was a bit of a brat about it, and Kacchan had to sit him down and tell him—with a very forced calm—that he had to eat his damn food or else he was going to get sick. When he told Kacchan he already felt sick all the time, Kacchan just took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and said that Izuku was going to eat all of his damn food or else he’d tell his mom.
Izuku eats all his food now, contrite. He would prefer that Kacchan not tell his mom! And he is very sorry that he was rude to Kacchan, especially in the beginning. Or is it still the beginning? It’s only the middle of August. Kacchan called out sick for him at, um, at work? He has work. And Kacchan said no, Kacchan said like hell are you going in, Kacchan said I’m not letting an overgrown elementary schooler lift buildings off of civilians.
He thinks they yelled at each other. He doesn’t actually remember. He doesn’t remember a lot, these days. It’s mostly fuzzy. He thinks he cried a bunch at, um, at work. Because he went back to work (he has work) after the fight, after Kacchan said don’t be fucking stupid, Izuku. Desk duty. And he cried a bunch because Kacchan said he couldn’t bring Bunmight to the lunchroom unless he was in his backpack. He said that people would look at him funny because they wouldn’t understand.
But you understand, right? he had asked while failing to fight off tears.
I’m trying to, Kacchan had replied. I’m trying really damn hard, Izuku.
But when he’s at home, he can have Bunmight with him all the time! So that’s good. Bunmight keeps him safe and just looking at him or holding him makes Izuku feel so much calmer. He wishes he could do paperwork with Bunmight in his lap at work (he has work) but he doesn’t want to upset Kacchan.
“Deku-chan, you’re not eating very much.”
He shovels more rice into his mouth, swallowing.
Uraraka gives him a little frown, brow furrowing. “Don’t just choke it down. That’ll give you a tummy ache.”
He takes a sip of his tea, nodding. Internally, he feels a little, um, warm. Like in a bad way. Because yes, that’s true, but also he’s sick of eating and he’s gonna get a tummy ache anyways so who cares? He needs to get all his food down or else he can’t have his special trip.
Black static twitches just under his skin like little burrs.
“Deku-chan,” Uraraka says, more stern.
He kicks his feet, socks dragging along the floor. “Yes, Uraraka-san?”
“You’ve got to eat all your food, alright? For real. Not just choking it down. Bakugou-kun was very clear in his notes about your eating.”
What’s that supposed to mean?
“It means that he knows that you have trouble with your appetite, so you want to get your meals over with,” she says. Her stare is resolute, boring into him. He sinks in his chair slightly, fiddling with his cup. The heat quietly sinks back into his bones. “And he knows all about how you eat too fast and puke it up later.”
He wonders how Kacchan would know something like that.
Kacchan knows everything, Bunmight reminds him.
Seriously? Eurgh. He really should have tried to brush his teeth for real.
I told you.
He sighs.
“Deku-chan.”
His head whips up, heart tightening. “U-um. I wasn’t… It wasn’t about you, I… Ah… S-sorry. ’M sorry. I’ll eat.”
Uraraka’s eyes dart across his face, considerate. Then, “I’m not mad, Deku-chan. I know you’re having a really hard time, right now. That’s why I’m here. I want to help you guys.”
He feels the knot in his chest release and then tighten further, a noose. Fear exchanged for guilt. He can’t help it, though; he’s an awful, wretched little boy. Or man. Or something. He gets confused. He’s manipulative and bad and he’s lucky that Kacchan still bothers so much with him, since Izuku’s been such a terrible and unpleasant friend.
Last night, he cried because Kacchan didn’t want to play action figures with him. He knew Kacchan was tired and that it made sense, but it made him feel so, so sad and he just started bawling. It was like all the bad feelings were trying to crawl out of his chest all at once, but they tripped over each other and stopped up the exit. All because Kacchan said that he’d have to play with his action figures by himself in the living room.
A good friend wouldn’t have cried at that. A good friend would have understood.
What especially frustrates him is that he did understand. He did. And he cried anyway. And he apologized while he cried, tried to explain that he understood but his insides were all scrambled up and achey and his daddy was dead and he had wanted to play Selkie and Gang Orca with Kacchan all day and it was a lot.
And Kacchan just…looked at him. So tired. And Izuku could tell that he wanted to yell because his jaw did that twitchy thing it did whenever he was about to start shouting. But instead, he swallowed a bunch and then he opened his arms so that Izuku could crawl into his lap and he squeezed him really tight until he crushed up all the big feelings into a tiny, manageable little packet in Izuku’s tummy.
I’m sorry that you’re mad, he’d managed when he had his words again. I’m sorry I made you mad, Kacchan. I know you’re tired. ’M sorry.
I’m not mad at you, Kacchan had said and didn’t explain.
“Deku-chan?”
He realizes that the chair is creaking under him as he rocks back and forth. Oops.
“You have to eat,” Uraraka says.
He gives a short nod, taking small bites from the last of his tamagoyaki until it’s gone. It’s miserable and absolutely mundane.
“Wow, good job, Deku-chan!” Uraraka claps, offering him a big smile. She claps a few times.
He manages a smaller one in return, face flushing bashfully.
“Okay, now do your victory lap and finish your tea.”
He does, grimacing at the bitter edge. Setting it down, he’s rewarded once more with Uraraka’s blinding smile.
“Wow, you finished all of that! Very impressive, Deku-chan. I know that was really difficult.”
He nods, wiping his mouth on his wrist. “Ice cream now?”
She laughs, startled. “Um— No. No, Bakugou-kun said you’re not getting any ice cream today, Deku-chan. He says you had it last night.”
He sighs sadly, fiddling with Bunmight’s arm. “Okay…”
“Hey, don’t give me that look. You’re gonna break my heart. Blame Bakugou-kun, not me!”
“I am,” he mumbles.
“Oh! I do have some good news. We get to mark your clean plate on the prizes paper, right, Deku-chan?”
He sits up, legs kicking under his chair. “Mmhm! If I…if I do all my chores for the whole week, Kacchan says I can go down the purple slide as much as I want! And the swings! And Kacchan will push me really high, but not too high, because being too high is scary for me, so he’ll just do the height that’s a little scary but still fun.”
“Ooh, that sounds like a great time.”
“Yeah! I’m really excited. So I wanna do all my chores. Um, if I miss something, I need to have a, ah, an excuse. But I don’t have an excuse, so I did the stuff on the list! And I ate everything on my plate, see?”
“I do see,” she says. “That’s why we have to mark it on the list with a shiny sticker.”
“Yes!” He wriggles in his chair, hugging Bunmight to his chest. “And stickers for showering and brushing my teeth, right?”
“Mmhm!” She rummages through their silverware drawer, pulling out the sheet.
So that’s where they are. Hm.
“Oh, I wasn’t supposed to let you see that, huh?”
He presses a palm to his mouth, fidgeting.
She gives him a conspiratorial side-eye. “You’re such a little schemer, sometimes.”
“Uh uh! Scheming is for bad guys. I’m gonna be a good guy. ’Sides, scheming is, um, a manipulation. And I try not to do manipulations, ’cause Chi—”
“That’s true,” she cuts in, turning to face him fully. “No, you’re a good boy, Deku-chan, and we all like you very much. Come on, let’s put the stickers on your chart.”
He hops out of his chair, grabbing Bunmight and padding over to the fridge. Uraraka pops a star off of the sticker paper and holds it out on the tip of her index finger. He grabs it with concentration, tongue between his teeth as he presses it to the assigned duty on the chores sheet.
“Good job! Wow, look at that whole sheet full of stars.”
“I’m really excited for the purple slide,” he says, hugging Bunmight tighter. “I want to go down it a bunch of different ways. Like, um, on my belly! And backwards.”
“That does sound really fun,” she says. “Is it a tall slide?”
“Mm! It’s taller than the yellow slide by Kacchan’s apartment, but it’s not as tall as some really big slides. Did you know the biggest slide in the world is a water slide? I’ve never been on a water slide, but they’re really popular and there was once one that was over fifty meters tall! That’s really scary, but I looked at pictures of it on the computer and it was cool to read about.”
“That’s really interesting,” Uraraka agrees. “Here’s your second star, Deku-chan.”
He snatches it, sticking it to his toothbrushing duty with guilt gumming the inside of his ribs. I’ll brush my teeth after breakfast is over, he tells himself. Then it won’t be a lie and I’ll be good.
“And your third! Good job!”
“Thank you,” he chirps, applying it. “I really want to go to the playground with Kacchan.”
“I can tell! You’re being very responsible.”
He shakes his head. “Nuh uh. Responsibility is stuff like taxes. I don’t do taxes.”
Uraraka laughs again. Then, “Shoot, I lost track of the time. I’ve got to run to my shift. Are you going to be okay? Todoroki-kun should be in around dinner to check on you and help you with that.”
He lifts his head. “Mmhm! Thank you for having breakfast with me, Uraraka-san.”
“If it’s too many dishes to wash, tell Bakugou-kun I said it was okay to leave them for later.”
“No, it’s okay! I’m good at dishes,” he says. “Thank you, Uraraka-san! The food was very yummy.”
“I’d say it was serviceable, haha, but okay.” She reaches up to ruffle his hair, smiling fondly. “Gosh, I just want to squeeze your cheeks whenever you’re like this. You’re so cute.”
He blinks. “Huh? Please don’t squeeze my cheeks.”
“I won’t! You’re just so funny, Deku-chan. I’ll stop by later if I can. Have a good day, okay? Keep your chin up!”
He nods, waving to her as she slips into her shoes in the genkan. “Okay. Bye, Uraraka-san! Have a good day being a superhero!”
“I will! Don’t forget to lock the door, okay, Deku-chan? And make sure the apartment temperature is comfortable for you! And—”
She’s still speaking, even as she closes the door behind her.
He waits for a moment before padding over to lock the door. Then he returns to the kitchen, setting Bunmight by the sink and leaning down to grab the dish gloves from the cabinet. “I don’t mind dishes,” he informs Bunmight, slipping on each rubber glove. They don’t feel very good but they’re better than touching any icky mushy thing. “I’ll get them done and then I can get another star for dishes. Dishes are number four. Washing and drying!”
If he happens to station some of his action figures by the sink while he’s washing dishes, that’s a secret between him and his toy bucket.
5.) Sweep the floor.
- No crumbs, no dust. Make sure you do the corners and under the tables. Don’t even think about moving the couch or I will destroy you.
Sweeping is one of Izuku’s least favorite chores and Kacchan knows that. Still, Izuku wants to be a good boy, so he does all his chores, even the ones he doesn’t like. It’s important to make sure that their home is clean or else creatures might start living with them. Izuku might think they’re cute, but they don’t belong under their kitchen cabinets or between the mattress and the wall.
Cockroaches ain’t cute, Kacchan had said flatly while Izuku pressed his nose against the glass of a zoo exhibit, watching the little animals scurry around. And if you don’t clean up after yourself, we’ll have ‘em eating all our food.
So he cleans up after himself. And he checks around the floor for anything that could serve as cockroach food, just in case. “Sweeping hurts my back,” he confides to Bunmight, whom he’s tucked into the collar of his t-shirt. “And it’s really boring. And I hate picking up all the bits that the broom doesn’t catch. Ah. I wouldn’t mind cockroaches, I think. I’d figure out all their names and we’d become friends and then, um, then they wouldn’t eat all our food.”
They’d still probably eat it all, Bunmight replies. That’s just what animals like that do; they can’t help it.
“Oh,” he says, a bit put out. He understands, though. Kacchan says stuff like that about him, sometimes, after all. That he can’t help it when he does certain stuff and that it’s okay, blah blah, but there’s always this kind of sad turn to his mouth that he probably doesn’t think Izuku notices. Adults are funny like that.
Adults are very funny, Bunmight agrees sagely.
He feels a weird little prick along his left hand. He waggles it, frowning when he catches sight of a thin tendril of Blackwhip. “Behave,” he chides, wrapping his fingers back around the broom. The energy sinks back under his skin. “Kacchan wants me to sweep the whole apartment to stop bugs from living here with us.”
Bunmight swings from the crook of his elbow as he shuffles into his and Kacchan’s bedroom. It’s not a super big room, luckily, but getting around and under the bed will be a pain. So bothersome! Sweeping should be a Kaccchan-only chore. Izuku already does laundry and dishes. And he cooks! Um. Sometimes. He cooks when he’s not like this, he means. When he’s a big boy, he cooks dinners for Kacchan that he learned from reading books. He always uses the exact amounts of ingredients that the recipes tell him to use.
“And then I get, um, frustrated because the serving sizes are always wrong!” He shakes his head, sighing. “Cooking is a lot of work, Bunmight. I want to cook instead of sweep, though. Sweeping hurts my back ’cause of that big surgery where the doctor cut me up and, um, fused vertebrae together. I want cockroach friends! I know you said they’ll still eat all our food but maybe I’m okay with that? I don’t feel like eating anyways—”
His elbow bumps the nightstand, zapping with pain. A hiss escapes him as he recoils, eyes catching the wobbling cup of water near the edge.
Glass shrieks, echoing through the apartment.
Izuku stiffens, fingers tight around the broom. He stares dumbly at the broken cup, the water spreading across the floor.
Oh no.
Oh no.
“Oh no,” he breathes, chest tight. “Oh no. Sh-shit. No. No, no, no…”
He needs to hide. He needs to clean this up. No, he needs to get away. No, it’s his mess, he made a mess, he needs to clean it up.
Hide. Get out. Get out.
No. Clean up your fucking mess, Izuku, you ungrateful piece of shit.
It’s quiet.
His head whips to the doorway, then back. Alone. Right, he’s alone. He is alone. He has time. Some time to clean this mess up.
But Kacchan knows everything! he remembers with terror. His throat is too tight to swallow. He tries anyways. Then he takes a slow, even breath, and stands taller.
What are you doing? Bunmight asks curiously.
“Fixing it,” he replies, voice soft and distant. His socks slide along the floor as he puts the broom away and grabs a fistful of paper towels, returning to the bedroom and kneeling beside the wet mess.
Izuku, Bunmight says.
He shakes his head, setting Bunmight down far from the mess. Then he starts to paw at the shards of glass, picking them up and depositing them in his cupped palm. A few nick his numb fingers, blood beading rapidly at the sharp incisions. They don’t hurt; glass doesn’t generally hurt.
Bunmight is silent. Izuku’s head is too quiet to hear him.
Once all the glass is in his hand, he stands, knees cracking. He returns to the kitchen, where he tosses the glass in the garbage. Then he pulls out the trash and double-bags it. No problem. Done. Alright then.
Now what?
What a question. The answer is obvious. The answer doesn’t need explanation.
Cleaning is done. Now comes punishment.
He stares dumbly at the remaining smear of water on the floor beside the bed, stepping forward to mop it up clumsily with a socked foot. His non-injured hand takes up Bunmight, curling him into the crook of his arm, face pressed into the swell of his bicep. His foot is wet. He is delaying the inevitable. He knows what comes next.
It’s better if he gets it started. It shows he knows what he’s supposed to do, that he wants to be good. A manipulation for sure, but Izuku is no stranger to the game. This is how one plays. There is no way to win, but there are worse ways to lose.
Izuku dutifully steps into the hallway closet and shuts the door behind him.
It’s dark. He hates that it’s dark; Kacchan has a nightlight on in the bathroom and the hallway because he doesn’t like the dark either. The one in the hallway is an old All Might nightlight Izuku always envied Kacchan for owning. His smile glows bright white and cuts through the shadows, clearly visible from their bedroom.
There’s no nightlight in the closet. There’s also not very much space. Izuku has to crouch to fit under the shelf, shuffling back until his spine presses against the wall. A coat rustles beside his left shoulder.
This is what happens. This is what he gets.
He scrunches his eyes tightly closed, shoulders curling as he tries to make himself as small as possible, Bunmight cradled in his lap. Bunmight shouldn’t be here; Bunmight didn’t do anything to deserve this.
It’s okay, Bunmight whispers, paw bumping again his cheek when he lowers his face. I’m your friend, Izuku. We’ll keep each other safe.
A sob escapes him, eyes stinging. His shoulders tighten. “U-uh huh,” he sniffles. “Uh huh.”
His body rocks, hugging Bunmight. It’s not good to rock, but it’s okay in the closet so long as no one can see. He’s being very quiet; he’s good at being quiet.
Here is fine. Everything that happens next will be infinitely worse, Izuku knows. So he hugs Bunmight as close as he can, presses his cheek into the worn fur, and he waits patiently in the dark.
The closet door clicks open.
“Midoriya?”
Izuku lifts his head, blinking at the light crowding Todoroki Shouto’s bland face in the doorway.
“What are you doing in here?” Todoroki asks. “Are you hiding?”
“Sh!” he hisses, holding up a finger.
“Oh. I guess you are. Should I close the door?”
“Yes!”
Todoroki steps inside of the closet, the door clicking shut behind him. “Why are you hiding?”
“I…” He swallows, mouth dry. He’s going to be in trouble. That’s the honest answer. But Todoroki is not a good secret keeper, even if he tries, so it’s best not to share the details of his misdeeds. “It’s a secret. Can’t tell you.”
Todoroki sits beside him, back pressing into the wall of the closet. “Okay,” he says simply.
Izuku lets out a soft, shuddery breath, pressing himself into the corner.
“This is boring,” Todoroki says after a moment. “Do you really do this every time Bakugou leaves?”
“No,” he whispers, shooting Todoroki a frown. “Usually I’m doing chores or playing with my action figures.”
He hums. “Okay. Then why are we hiding in the closet?”
“I can’t tell you!”
“Okay. Are you hiding from Bakugou?”
“No!” He shoots a glance at the closed door, heart braced in his chest. “I’m not hiding. I’m in here because I did something bad that I can’t talk to you about.”
“Why the closet, though?”
“‘Cause that’s where I go when I do something bad.”
“That’s a weird habit.”
“’S not a habit, it’s a punishment.”
“Bakugou makes you sit in the closet?”
“No. Chichi does.”
Todoroki makes a soft, confused sound. “Your dad is dead, though.”
Izuku stiffens.
Todoroki’s brow furrows. “Unless he survived and that’s a secret?”
He presses his face into his knees.
“Or are you in denial? Bakugou warned me that you do that, sometimes.”
“I know he’s dead,” he says, voice muffled by his thighs. His body starts to rock slightly before he forces it still. Grits his teeth. Stupid idiot.
“Then why are you hiding from him if he’s dead? Is he a ghost? Are ghosts real?”
“Sh!”
Todoroki hums. “Oh. Wait, that’s on the list, I think. You think contradictory things, right?”
“It’s just a fugue state,” he murmurs. “I’m…fine.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re fine.”
Izuku sighs, his exhale hot against his own face.
“Bakugou gave us a list of stuff to look out for,” Todoroki says. “It was kind of long, though, and I couldn’t ask for clarification on everything.”
Izuku buries his head deeper, brushing his nose against Bunmight’s head. He takes a short breath, holding it in the center of his chest.
“Could I ask you to look at it? I’m pretty confused.”
“What,” he rasps.
“You mean what am I confused about? Well, a lot of vocabulary on it wasn’t very like Bakugou; I think it was copy-pasted from a website or something. He mentioned ‘erratic behavior.’ Do you know what that could be referring to?”
“No, I mean what are you talking about?”
“Oh.” Todoroki is quiet for a moment. Then, “I think this is the erratic behavior.”
Izuku’s head pops up. He levels a glare at Todoroki, a blurry mass in the darkness.
“Uraraka said you were ‘cute’ this morning, but you’re not being very cute right now.”
He scowls. “You’re the one who came into my apartment and started asking weird questions! And bringing up my dead dad!”
“...I thought you said we had to be quiet.”
Izuku groans, thumping his head against the wall. It feels almost good, so he does it again. Again. Harder.
“Bakugou said we’re supposed to stop you from doing that.”
“Fuck off,” he mutters.
“Sure,” Todoroki replies, standing up. The door opens, a sharp line of light racing into the small space. He’s going to leave Izuku alone. Totally alone in this dark, cramped space with the door forced shut and no idea when he’s going to be allowed to leave.
“W-wait! Please, don’t, ’m scared, I…” Izuku sniffles, curling when he remembers himself. His lip trembles. He was just really bad, so he should stay here.
Todoroki stops, turning. “Yeah, this has to be the erratic behavior thing.”
“No, ’m just being bad,” he whispers, grinding his cheek against the wall.
Todoroki watches him.
“I…b-broke a glass.” A sob escapes him at the admission. “I broke it an’ got water on the floor an’ I… ’M sor-ry…”
“Oh,” Todoroki says.
He weeps, curling tighter. Bunmight bumps against his trembling lips, threadbare and gentle. Bunmight knows how bad he is, what an awful boy he is, but he still likes him anyway.
“That’s all? It’s not a big deal.”
Izuku peeks up at Todoroki, confused. “Huh?”
“I assume you broke the glass on accident?”
“Yeah-huh.”
“Then it’s not a big deal, right? Did you get cut? Do we need to clean it up?”
He wipes his nose on his arm. “I-I cleaned it.”
Todoroki nods, blurry. “Then it’s not a problem. Can you come out so that I can get you dinner, now?”
He presses tighter into the corner, frown wobbling. “N-no, I gotta be here an’ wait ’til I can come out.”
“How long is that?”
He isn’t sure. Usually Papa lets him out. A few hours. “U-um. I ’unno. Chichi decides.”
“Your father’s dead, though.”
“Th-then I guess I stay here forever!” he snaps, voice stuffy. He drops his head again, groaning. Eurgh, that was so rude. He’s being so rude. Why is he being so rude? He is not a good kid, right now.
You should be nice to your friends, Bunmight acknowledges. Todoroki-kun just wants to help you.
“But I gotta be here,” he hisses back. “’Cause I did a bad thing and it makes Papa mad and Kacchan will hate me and now I’m not goin’ to the park and he’s gonna kick me out and Mama won’t want me and…”
“Midoriya,” Todoroki says, “you’re spiraling.”
Izuku bites his tongue, squeezing his eyes shut.
He’s right, Bunmight says. Sh. Take a few big breaths, so big that you feel them in your tummy. The air pushes the bad feeling out, sometimes. Come on, nerd. Breathe in, breathe out.
He takes a shuddering breath, holding it in the pit of his stomach.
After a few more tummy breaths, Izuku nods, hugging Bunmight to his chest as he gets up and follows Todoroki out of the closet.
“Bakugou wouldn’t go into much detail, but based on various exchanges we’ve had, especially in high school, I think I’m able to connect the dots, Midoriya.”
Izuku sniffles, stuffing more ice cream into his mouth. Todoroki asked him what he wanted for dinner and when Izuku had said ice cream, he’d grabbed it from the freezer without comment.
“I think your father might have been a piece of shit.”
Izuku’s spoon rattles against the bowl. “Huh?”
Todoroki taps his chin. “I’ve considered the evidence. You had some very strange moments when we were in high school. Especially whenever he came back to Japan. The times where I’d catch you in the school laundry room at three in the morning were particularly suspect. You probably don’t remember, but we had a few conversations about your father, too.”
Izuku stares.
Todoroki nods. “I also talked to him for a bit at your wedding and he seemed very creepy, then.”
Izuku frowns. “Chichi’s not creepy; he’s nice.”
“He kept putting his hands on your waist.”
He picks up his spoon again, scooping it into his ice cream.
“That’s not normal,” Todoroki informs him.
“It’s not?”
“I don’t think so.”
He shrugs, slipping the spoon into his mouth. Vanilla soaks into his tongue.
“He always touched you like…” Todoroki hums in thought. “Like he owned you, I guess. Like you were property.”
Izuku gets more ice cream. “He does,” he replies. “He’s my daddy.”
“I don’t think that’s right,” Todoroki says. “I think dads are supposed to treat you like a person instead of an object.”
“Are they?”
“I think so.”
He eyes Todoroki. “You don’t sound super sure…”
“I’m not,” Todoroki says. “I don’t know much about good fathers.”
“Mm.”
“But I think I know a lot about bad fathers. I think your father was a piece of shit.”
Izuku shoves his bowl away from his chest. “Chichi takes me on fun trips to the aquarium and the zoo. He took me to a hero agency in Hosu for my eighth birthday.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with whether or not he was a bad dad.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Chichi’s very nice to me. He gets me lots of presents.”
Todoroki’s eyes unfocus slightly. “Just giving you presents doesn’t make him a good dad.”
“What makes a good dad, then?”
He taps his chin. “I need to think on that. I’m not sure.”
Izuku sulks, squeezing Bunmight in his lap as he kicks his legs. Todoroki is a big dummy. You can’t know what a bad dad is if you don’t know what a good dad is!
“All Might.”
Izuku lifts his head, on alert. “Hm?”
Todoroki nods to himself. “You know how All Might treats you?”
He blinks. “How All Might treats me?”
“Yeah. He calls you on the phone and visits and stuff, right?”
He squeezes Bunmight, unsure. “Yes? He, um. He does. He visits me in the hospital when I get hurt and stuff, too. And, um. Yeah.”
“And he talks to you a certain way, right? Like…he cares about how you are. But he trusts you to make your own decisions.” Todoroki’s sounding less sure again.
Izuku frowns, wary. “I guess,” he says. “My head’s kinda fuzzy sometimes ’bout that stuff. I think so.”
“I think that’s what a good dad is like.”
“All Might’s not my dad, Todoroki-kun.”
“I’m still not sure,” Todoroki says. “He might be.”
“Nuh uh! Chichi’s my dad! Chichi was there when I was born and stuff. We look…” He swallows, a weird little rock sticking in his throat. “We look alike.”
“Well, he’s not your dad anymore,” Todoroki says. “He’s dead.”
Izuku presses his face into Bunmight. “I don’t think somebody stops being your dad just because he’s…b-because he’s dead.”
Todoroki hums. “Good point.”
“I really miss Chichi,” he confesses. “I think Kacchan’s worried about how much I miss Chichi, but I can’t not miss Chichi.”
“You talk about him very intimately for someone who’s also weirdly formal about him, too. You’re the only person I know who calls his dad ‘Chichi’ or ‘father’ when referring to him.”
Izuku shrugs helplessly.
“I don’t like your dad,” Todoroki says, bland as ever. “I never liked him. I feel like I always had this sense that… That he hurt you. Badly. In some ways that might not have been the same as I’m familiar with, but I always felt like we saw some similar experiences in each other.”
Izuku’s insides are cold. Must be the ice cream.
“At your wedding with Bakugou…” Todoroki trails off, brow furrowing in thought. “That was a very strange time. It was the most I’d ever interacted with him and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. He was much more polite than my own father, but he gave me an incredibly gross feeling. And you were very formal about him whenever he wasn’t groping you.”
Izuku stares at his slowly melting bowl of ice cream. “O-other kids call their dads other stuff,” he acknowledges, voice rough. “Like, um, Otousan. Or Oyaji or… B-but Chichi taught me that when I talk about him, I…I need to be respectful.” In private, though, he’s Papa. Always Papa. Because Papa is his daddy; Papa will always be his daddy.
“That doesn’t explain why he groped you a lot.”
“I— I need to be good for Chichi and not…” He swallows. “Respect is, um. Important. Chichi does a lot for me…”
“When you talked to him, I heard you call him ‘Papa.’”
His eyes dry on the bowl.
“It’s just a very childish word for a father,” Todoroki says thoughtfully. “And very informal. I wouldn’t think someone who refers to his father as ‘Chichi’ would turn around and use such familial language with him. I’d never call my old man anything like that.”
Izuku’s lips shudder.
“You really only call him ‘Papa’ when he’s being gross. Or that’s how it’s been whenever I’ve seen it. I’m not really sure.”
“He’s not gross.” He’s not. Papa is the best person ever. He gets Izuku presents and he cooks for him when he’s sick and he calls him on the phone and he takes him on fun trips. Papa loves Izuku and Izuku has never once doubted that. Papa is his daddy. Papa is everything.
Papa is…
He’s…
Izuku’s throat spasms. His body feels hot and strange, like he has bugs under his skin. They want to get out. There’s only one exit, though. Only one exit he can bear to allow. His mouth is wet and unwieldy.
There’s this awful, awful sound. He flinches, cupping his hands over his ears to try to muffle it. It keeps going, though, on and on, while his whole body jerks and twitches, his airway sore.
It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Papa is… Papa’s…
“Bakugou told us to make sure you don’t do that,” Todoroki says, voice faint under the shrill barks of Izuku’s throat. “The neighbors complain, I guess. And he wrote that it’s ‘fucking annoying.’ I can see how it could get annoying after a while. Do you really keep doing that until someone makes you stop?”
Izuku doesn’t know. He also doesn’t care. His forehead thunks against the table. He lifts his face to do it again. Again.
“You’re not supposed to do that, either.”
He barks again, higher pitched and scraping up his throat.
“Midoriya—“
“I l-love my daddy!” he cries, voice cracking. “I lo-ove him! Papa is the best! He was the best, he loved me so much, he loved me because I w-was his special little boy, all his, Papa got me presents and always tucked me in a-and gave me big, warm hugs and special kisses a-and…and…”
“Wow, this is very disturbing,” Todoroki comments.
Izuku wails, smacking his forehead. Papa loved him so much! Papa always told him so! And now look where he is, what happened. He’s the worst. He’s the worst boy in the whole world, the evilest, worst—
“Oh, right. I forgot to mention, I got you a present.”
He freezes, body locking up at the word.
“Oh, does that work? Bakugou didn’t mention that working. I just got it for you because I know you like getting gifts.”
Izuku’s head whips up. “A…a present?” he asks, voice soft and meek. He bites his lip, fiddling with Bunmight’s arms.
Todoroki nods, heading back to the genkan. There’s a sliding sound, then he returns with a bag dangling from his fingers.
“Oh,” Izuku says thickly, eyes trained on the bag. “That’s very nice of you. I like presents.”
“I know,” Todoroki says. “That’s why I got it for you.”
He sits very still, watching the bag swing in Todoroki’s grasp. He was not very good, earlier. Presents are things that he earns after punishments, but Todoroki hasn’t punished him. Not yet, anyways.
“Do you like stuffed animals?” Todoroki asks, curious.
Izuku reaches protectively for Bunmight, holding him firmly. “Yes.”
“Okay, that’s good. I got you a stuffed animal. If you don’t like it, I’ll give it to my brother’s baby. Though it’s kind of big for a baby. Do you think there are age restrictions for stuffed animals?”
“They say on the tags,” he replies, tracking the movement of the bag. “Like a baby can choke on some stuff, I think. Or, um. Get suffocated. Or something.”
“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.” Todoroki holds the bag toward him. “Here. You can take it out.”
Izuku starts to reach, but stops, frowning. “…Right now?”
Todoroki shrugs. “Why not now?”
“Um. ’Cause I was bad,” he replies, voice faint.
“I think you’re just freaked out,” Todoroki replies. “We all know that you’re not in a good place right now. We’re trying to be patient about it.”
Izuku sniffles, curling in on himself before slipping off of the kitchen chair. “O-okay. I’m, um. I’m sorry. A-about being so…”
“Erratic behavior,” Todoroki says. “That’s the word that Bakugou used. And some other big words that I don’t think he would normally say. Like ‘dissociative state’ and ‘post-traumatic response.’”
He wipes his nose on his wrist. “Th-those are not normal Kacchan words.”
“Yeah. I think he pulled them from Wikipedia.”
“Ah.” Yeah, probably. Kacchan loves Wikipedia. Izuku does, too. He read all about slugs, the other night. It was fun. There are a lot of really long articles in the English part of the website. He learned all about the planet Jupiter, a few weeks ago. And—
“You can take the bag, Midoriya.”
He sets Bunmight on the table, grabbing the handles from Todoroki and pulling it toward him. There’s no gift paper or anything in the bag, so he reaches inside and pulls the toy out.
It’s a pale red dragon with floppy limbs and wings. From snout to tail tip, it’s about a little longer than Izuku’s torso. He holds it dumbly for a moment. He’s never seen a toy this big outside of a store.
It’s soft.
His brain is stunned by this revelation, fingers curling into the synthetic fur. It’s very soft. Soft and silky. That’s the best kind of soft. He runs the back of his hand along its spine, shivering at the cool sensation over his knuckles. This is the softest toy he has ever touched.
“Wow, you’re totally calm now,” Todoroki observes. “This was actually very easy. I don’t know why Bakugou wrote such a long set of instructions.”
Izuku’s eyes slip closed as he hugs the toy to his chest, ducking his head to rub his face and neck along the fur.
It’s perfect.
He’s amazed. Obsessed. It feels so nice to touch, especially where his skin is thin and sensitive, like his right cheek and his eyelids. Sensation is always duller where he has scar tissue, but the areas around are lighting up with a pleased satisfaction that is so loud that it feels like even his deadened nerves are singing.
“Are you just going to keep doing that?”
He nuzzles hard against the softness. Smell leaves much to be desired, but that’ll get fixed with time. He likes it best when things smell like him and Kacchan and their bed. Kacchan doesn’t like that and insists on giving the sheets and Bunmight baths, but that’s just the price of getting to snuggle with Kacchan.
“Are you going to name it?”
He can’t manage to drag his face away. His voice comes out muffled. “He already has a name.”
“Oh, on the tag?”
“No, his name is Dragon.”
“Okay,” Todoroki says. “Is that because it’s a dragon?”
Izuku huffs, sliding one cheek along Dragon’s head so he can look up at Todoroki. “No! That’s his name because his mom gave it to him.”
“Is its mom also named Dragon?”
“I dunno his mom’s name,” he grumbles. “I don’t know her…”
“I guess that makes sense,” Todoroki says, sitting down on the abandoned kitchen chair. “Can I finish your ice cream?”
“Mmhm.” Sharing is important. And he can’t pull himself away from Dragon. Dragon is so soft in the right way. The way that soft things should be. Not like bad soft things, but like the very best of soft things.
Todoroki-kun is a good friend, Bunmight says from the table.
He hums absently in agreement. Todoroki bends past him to grab his bowl and spoon.
He lies on the couch, rubbing his face and throat against Dragon in a daze. He’s just so soft. He overhears Todoroki’s voice a few times, presumably on the phone or something. “Yeah, he’s totally fine. I don’t know what you were so worried about, Bakugou. No, he’s on the couch. Yeah. Mmhm.”
There’s a sadness in Izuku’s chest, but it’s like it’s crammed behind the more immediate feeling of his body. Packed under his skin. And his skin feels good.
“Well. It took a minute to find him, but he was just in the closet—”
Dragon is so, so soft. And big. A lot of stuffed animals leave Izuku feeling oddly large and fumbling, but Dragon is big enough that he can curl around him without having to hunch his shoulders or draw all his limbs too tight.
“He’s fine though? He’s on the couch, like I said. Yes, we had dinner. Oh, I just got him whatever he asked for. Was that a problem? I didn’t see a meal plan on the list.”
Dragon is soft. Izuku likes soft. That’s the beginning and end of it.
“Oh, no, I didn’t check the fridge. You should have left a note.”
Tinny sounds from Todoroki’s phone. Izuku doesn’t concern himself with it anymore. Dragon is more important. Dragon is soft and feels nice. The smell is the only downside and that will improve with time. Izuku needs to put him in bed and roll around with him a lot of times before he’ll smell the best. Like him and Kacchan.
Kacchan…
Izuku presses his nose into Dragon’s fur, eyes stinging. Kacchan will be so mad. Because not only did Izuku drop the glass and make a huge mess, he didn’t finish all his chores. Not even close. And now he won’t get to go to the playground with the purple slide. But more importantly, Kacchan will be mad. And even worse, Kacchan will be disappointed.
Dragon is so soft, though, that even these thoughts are drowned out eventually.
“The hell are you doing, nerd?”
Izuku blinks, still pressing his face against Dragon. He hadn’t fallen asleep. Still, he lost time. “Kacchan.”
“Oh, that’s so cute!”
“Uraraka-san,” he also identifies.
“Wow, that’s such a big plushie, Deku-chan. It looks really nice to hug!”
“Mm,” he manages, too busy rubbing his ear against Dragon.
“I can’t believe how sweet he is…”
“Apparently he was a terror earlier,” Kacchan says flatly.
“It was that erratic behavior you mentioned,” Todoroki replies. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“You said you found him in the fuckin’ closet. He was having a meltdown, dumbass.”
Izuku curls his arms and legs around Dragon, taking a short breath. Right. The glass. He’s in trouble. He almost forgot. His head is fuzzy, like every emotion is muted and dull.
“I think he was overreacting.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Kacchan says. “You should’ve called me.”
“And done what? You couldn’t leave your shift.”
“He’s right, Bakugou-kun,” Uraraka says. “Deku-chan is fine now, so let’s just be glad that everybody’s calm, okay?”
“Whatever.”
The couch dips under Izuku’s hip. He lifts his head, blinking owlishly. Kacchan looks back at him, arm slung over the back. He arches a brow. Izuku looks back, unsure what, exactly, that’s supposed to mean. Dragon is soft against his inner forearms. That’s nice. Bunmight is warm on the crook of his shoulder. That’s also very nice.
Kacchan rolls his eyes. “Come on, nerd, sit up.”
“Oh.” He sits up. “Hi, Kacchan.”
“He loves soft stuff,” Kacchan says to Uraraka and Todoroki, sliding an arm around Izuku’s shoulders and squeezing. “But it’s gotta be the right soft stuff. Some of it is gross or something. I don’t get it; I just make sure I get his opinion when I buy new blankets or towels or shit. He won’t even go near me if I’m wearing this one fleece my old man got me.”
“That’s interesting,” Uraraka says. “Looks like Todoroki-kun got Deku-chan a super gift with that dragon, then.”
Kacchan’s tongue clicks. Izuku peers up at him, cheek pressed against Dragon’s tummy. “I guess. He’s obsessed.”
“Oh. I’m glad,” Todoroki says. “It was expensive.”
Kacchan grunts, tugging Izuku harder against his side. He falls bonelessly in his hold, pressing Dragon’s right paw against his lips. Soft.
“So it’s not just a…headspace thing?” Uraraka asks.
“No, it’s an all the time deal. He’s just better at pretending it’s not a thing when he’s not like this. ’S all.”
“He calmed down immediately when I gave it to him,” Todoroki says.
“Because you somehow found the textural equivalent of crack, I guess.”
“Crack doesn’t calm people down, Bakugou.”
“It wasn’t literal.”
“No, it was a comparison. Maybe you meant that I found the textural equivalent of benzodiazepines?”
“Whatever, Half-n-Half.”
Izuku rubs his face harder against Dragon’s tummy, humming.
“He was really upset when I found him earlier. I tried to follow your paper instructions, but they were confusing.”
Kacchan lets out a long sigh, rubbing Izuku’s arm.
“Then I gave him the toy and he was totally fine. I think I’ve figured out a solution to his PTSD.”
“Great idea. I’ll use my infinite wallet to buy him a big fuck-off toy whenever he’s sad about all the sick shit that’s happened to him.”
“It’s a very thoughtful gift, Todoroki-kun,” Uraraka says, “but I don’t think getting Deku-chan a bunch of toys will fix this in the long term.”
“…His…dad got him shit all the time,” Kacchan says haltingly. “Not like this, but like. He was always bribing him to smooth over every awful thing he did to him. Izuku’s practically conditioned to be obsessed with toys and treats.”
“Oh. So did I do a bad thing?” Todoroki asks.
“No.” Kacchan reaches down to lift Dragon’s tail. He drops it after a moment, the weighted tip landing on Izuku’s thigh. “But let’s not make it a normal thing. Too many associations with his shitty dad.”
“He really likes his dad. Did you know that?”
Kacchan lets out a sharp breath. “Yeah.”
“Todoroki-kun,” Uraraka murmurs.
“I was just curious. Midoriya went on this whole rant about how much he likes his dad and how nice his dad was before he died.”
“Oi! Don’t fuckin’ use that word, he’s right here.”
Todoroki makes a soft sound. “Dad?”
“Die,” Kacchan hisses.
Izuku hums, rubbing the underside of his chin against Dragon. “It makes me really sad to think about Chichi dying,” he acknowledges. “’M kinda fuzzy right now, though. Um. In my head. Dragon is really soft, isn’t he, Kacchan?”
“Yeah, he’s pretty damn soft,” Kacchan replies, voice a low murmur. The arm around Izuku pats at Dragon’s back, fingers rubbing a wing. “Half-n-Half and his trillion yen bank account are good for some things, I guess.”
Izuku hums, eyes slipping closed as he tucks himself against Kacchan’s side, pressing his nose into Dragon. The softest. He feels bad because Bunmight is of course the number one stuffed animal in his life, but Dragon is just so soft.
It’s okay, Bunmight reassures him, squished between his bicep and his chest. Dragon will be a good friend.
Mmhm. But Bunmight is his bedtime buddy, his ultimate protector.
Well. Besides Kacchan.
“Good luck tearing him away from that thing,” Uraraka says, sounding amused. Or something.
“Ugh,” Kacchan says.
A chirp escapes Izuku as he nuzzles Dragon. He’s just so soft!
“I wonder what it’s like to be that way,” he hears Uraraka remark. “I just can’t imagine being that crazy over how something feels.”
“Dunno,” Kacchan says. “But that’s how he is, so if you got a problem with it, you can go fuck yourself.”
“I didn’t mean it like that! I understand that he can’t help it.”
“…’S nice in some ways. I think. Like obviously this dumbass toy from Half-n-Half is helpful, right now. Not crazy about the longterm effects of that, but whatever.”
“You should have put that on the paper,” Todoroki says.
“It’s getting added tonight. Fuck off.” Kacchan runs his fingers through Izuku’s hair.
Izuku freezes before canting his head into the touch, eyes slipping closed.
They keep talking. Izuku lets their voices wash over him and just feels.
“Kacchan,” he says, curled up under their duvet, “I didn’t finish the chores for today.”
“Yeah, well, you got an excuse.” Kacchan folds his removed shirt before setting it in the laundry hamper.
Izuku blinks, lashes fanning over his cheeks. Dragon is soft against his cheek and neck, curled against his head. “Do I?”
Kacchan grunts as he swings his legs into bed. “Yeah. You had a freakout. ’S not your fault.”
“But it was my fault? I, um—”
“Accidentally knocked over your nasty glass of water,” Kacchan says. “I know. Half-n-Half told me. You didn’t mean to.”
Izuku watches him click off the light on his nightstand.
“You don’t understand the difference even when your head is mostly screwed on straight, so I don’t expect you to get it now. But I’m not mad and it would be shitty of me to be mad about something like that. Got it?”
“…Okay?” he manages hesitantly. Kacchan is right; he doesn’t understand.
“Just because your dad was a piece of shit doesn’t mean the rest of us have the same off-the-wall reactions to normal mistakes or problems,” Kacchan says, settling against his pillow. His body is a sliver in the darkness of their bedroom. Pale as a specter.
“Todoroki-kun used that same phrase,” he murmurs.
“Huh?”
“Um. Piece of…poopoo.”
Kacchan snorts. “He can probably call it as he sees it with that. Guy’s thick as anything when it comes to most shit, but…yeah. I think that just proves my point.”
“Kacchan, what if I don’t ever get better?”
Kacchan doesn’t say anything.
“I…still miss him,” Izuku says, hugging Bunmight. “A lot. And I keep having the dumb head stuff worse than normal. What if that’s forever?”
“It’s not forever,” Kacchan says.
“How do you know?”
“I— It’s just not, okay?” He rolls onto his side, breath bridging the gap between them. “This’ll take time, though. And it sucks. And it’ll keep sucking. We gotta keep being strong and talking to each other and…and all of that shit.”
It sounds tiring. Izuku rubs his cheek against Bunmight. “I just want everybody to be okay,” he sniffles. “’M sorry that this is so complicated, Kacchan.”
Kacchan’s eyes are open, looking back at Izuku. Then he says, each word steady, “I never failed anything in my life, Izuku. I don’t plan to start now.”
Izuku stares back, breath caught in his throat. The solid belief in Kacchan's voice cradles him. Makes something in him tremble with an emotion that is not fear. The strongest, most fearless person Izuku has ever known. Kacchan truly is so amazing. “Kacchan is amazing,” he murmurs.
A thumb strokes the bony curve of his eye socket. “You’re a good kid.”
His throat is tight. “Ruh-really?”
“Yeah,” Kacchan says. He blinks slowly, eyes glossy in the low light. “You’re a damn good kid, Izuku.”
“Kacchan.” He isn’t sure how to say what he feels. Something big and full and bright. It tastes like the sun crowding against the backs of his teeth. None of that makes any sense. He doesn’t have the words. Maybe he never does, though, even when he’s not like this.
Kacchan pulls him closer. “I know,” he murmurs into his hair. “I know, Izuku.”
There is no need to say it, Izuku supposes. No need for the right words.
Kacchan always hears him anyway.