Archive of Our Own ^beta

1
The Jewels in the Forest

Before the quirks, before their falling out, before the heartfelt honesty, before everything crumbled apart right in front of Kacchan's eyes, their summers were always the same: Simple and sweet. Like candy, or cold ice cream on a sweltering day.

"Kacchan! Kacchan, look!"

Kacchan turns around and is met by the sight of Izuku holding a cicada in his hands. His green eyes were sparkling and his freckles were dark. They darkened in the summer because of the sun, although Kacchan wouldn't notice the difference until he was older. He likes the freckles. They're like chocolate sprinkles across Izuku's sweet, vanilla face.

Izuku's messy green hair was nice too—when it doesn't have stray twigs and leaves in it like it does now. Kacchan snorts at the sight. Izuku's head is like a bird's nest.

"Don't you think it looks cool?" Izuku asks, desperate to please, excited to show his Kacchan something incredible. "Do you know it's name?"

"Stupid Izuku! Of course I know!" Kacchan says, his tone confident, surely. His little hands were resting on his hips. "That's a cicada. They're really common. I can find something cooler."

"Woah! Really?" Izuku says, letting go of the cicada. Izuku looks at Kacchan like he hung all the stars in the sky himself. He's always looked at Kacchan that way.

"This way!" Kacchan demands, pointing further into the woods and marching forward. Izuku trails behind, always following but never leading, never questioning or arguing. Kacchan led the way and Izuku followed. That's the way it would be for nearly their entire lives. But they didn't know that yet. They were still kids, after all.

They reach a clearing with a small pond in the middle. With the confidence of a seasoned entomologist, Kacchan goes around the pond and digs through the bushes. He catches the bug in one fell swoop and holds it in a way that covers it from view.

"Close your eyes," Kacchan says, turning around. Izuku obeys with blind trust despite all the times Kacchan has pulled pranks on him before. Kacchan steps closer to him, letting out a little giggle.

"Why are you laughing?" Izuku asks, frowning with his eyes still closed. He puffs out his cheeks in annoyance. Kacchan can't help but giggle more when Izuku makes that expression.

"Your hair looks like a bush, dummy. You've even got leaves and sticks in it. I bet you could get some bugs to live on top of your head too."

"Kacchan is so mean," Izuku whines, stomping his little foot. He suddenly freezes, his doe-like eyes widening. "Wait, bugs won't actually live in my head, right?"

"They will," Kacchan says with an evil grin. The bug in his hands flutters, but he holds on. "They'll think your hair is a house and the bugs will crawl into your ears at night."

Izuku lets out a shriek, suddenly opening his eyes and frantically rubbing at his hair, making the twigs and leaves fall out. Tears prick the corners of his eyes. "I don't want bugs in my ears or my head, Kacchan!"

"Calm down!" Kacchan says, rolling his eyes. He shifts the bug into one hand and uses his free hand to push Izuku's hands away from his head. One by one, he picks out the remaining twigs and leaves. "The bugs won't get to you while I'm around."

"Kacchan will protect me?" Izuku asks, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes.

"I'll always protect you," Kacchan says. He tosses away the final leaf in Izuku's hair. "'Cause I'm awesome like that. I'm not weak and dumb like you, Izuku."

"I'm not dumb and weak..." Izuku mumbles, wiping away the last of his snot and tears.

"Whatever," Katsuku scoffs. "Do you wanna see this bug or not?"

"Y-Yeah. Show me, Kacchan."

Slowly, Kacchan brings both of his hands forward. Izuku leans closer, his hands curled up into fists and close to his chest, gripped in anticipation. Kacchan opens his hands, revealing the beetle with iridescent wings cradled in his palms. It was an emerald green similar to Izuku's hair, but its wings glimmer different colors in the sunlight.

Izuku gasps, his eyes lighting up the moment they register the beetle in front of him. Kacchan watches carefully and only smiles once he sees the wonder Izuku's eyes.

"Kacchan! It's changing colors!"

"Yep," Kacchan says, grinning. "It's called a chr...chryso...chryso something. But someone stupid like you can just call it a jewel beetle!"

"Oh, it's called a jewel beetle because it shines like a jewel!" Izuku exclaims, hopping up and down.

"Duh. See, I told you I could find something cooler! There's tons of beetles around here."

"Kacchan is amazing!" Izuku exclaims. The beetle flies away, wings glinting like diamonds in the sunlight. "I wanna find a special beetle too!"

Kacchan puffs out his chest at the praise. "Of course I am. C'mon, there's more beetles this way."

"Okay," Izuku says, stumbling along behind Kacchan when he runs deeper into the park's forest. "Let's catch them together, Kacchan!"

"Only if you can keep up, dumb Izuku!"

"I'm not dumb!"

They found dozens of beetles during that summer, of every color, shape, and size imaginable to them. At that time, Kacchan thought he'd never forget all the bugs he'd found because they were so cool. He hardly remembered any of the beetles now, but one thing he never forgot was the way Izuku's eyes would shine every single time Kacchan showed him a beetle, even if it was one he'd seen before.

2
Golden Light

It's warm inside their blanket fort, despite it being next to the open window. Summer nights aren't too chilly in Musutafu. Kacchan piled up all the pillows and climbed on top of them to tape two corners of his red blanket onto the wall. Then, Kacchan and Izuku used a bunch of pillows and plushies to build the two wall. It's more of a blanket tent than a blanket fort, not that either of them care. Within this small space they've built for themselves, Kacchan and Izuku are happy in their own little world.

It's dark inside Kacchan's bedroom. Izuku's a scaredy-cat, so Kacchan has to hold his hand while they wait for the sunrise. His hand feels moist from holding onto Izuku's hand for so long. Lately, he's been sweating more. The doctor said it's probably 'cause of his quirk coming or something, but that doesn't make it any less annoying, especially since it's summertime. This dumb quirk better be worth it for all the trouble it's causing him. The heat is unforgiving.

Kacchan tries to tug his hand away. Izuku holds on tighter and scoots closer to him, their arms and legs squishing together.

"Kacchan," Izuku whines. "You promised you'd hold my hand. The dark is scary."

"I need to dry my hand, stupid Izuku," Kacchan says, yanking his hand away. He wipes his hand on his pajama pants. "It's wet."

"I didn't notice."

"It's wet with sweat."

"I don't mind."

"Gross," Kacchan says, intertwining his fingers with Izuku's again once he decides his hand is sufficiently dry. "You like sweat?"

"No, I don't. I just like Kacchan."

"Weirdo. You can't go around telling people you like them without a reason."

"Ehhh? But Kacchan's amazing...That's why I like you!"

Even in the dark, the blush on Kacchan's face is still visible. "Shut up! I like you too, but I don't go around saying it all the time."

Izuku's eyes widen the same way they did when he first heard of All Might. "Kacchan likes me?"

"Idiot! You're not supposed to say that kind of stuff because it's so obvious you don't need to say it. Or else, you'll look dumb. It's like saying the sun is here every time the sun comes out."

"But I like you, Kacchan. Even if it's obvious, I want to say it."

"Say it to yourself inside your dumb brain! Actually, do you even have a brain?"

"Kacchan," Izuku whines, tightening his grip on Kacchan's arm. "Meanie."

Kacchan sticks his tongue out at Izuku in return. Golden yellow peeks over the horizon, onto Kacchan's skin and clothes. Kacchan whips his head around toward the window. "Look, Izuku!"

Izuku gasps, pulling Kacchan closer. "The sun is rising! We did it, Kacchan. We stayed up the whole night."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have made it if I didn't keep waking you up."

"Thank you for helping me, Kacchan," Izuku says sweetly, not picking up on the snark in Kacchan's words.

"Whatever."

The horizon glows orange and yellow, like daffodils and fire lilies. The light layers itself over the inky night sky, blooming together.

"It's so pretty, Kacchan," Izuku whispers, as if breaking the silence will scare the sun away. He leans his body towards the window sill. The sunlight makes the green in his eyes glimmer and the freckles on his cheeks look lighter.

Kacchan finds himself staring at Izuku instead of the sunrise they spent all night waiting for. There's a deep satisfaction swelling up from the bottom of his stomach all the way to the top of his chest. He's the one who brought that look of wonderment to Izuku's face. Nobody else. Kacchan's the coolest, that's why everyone follows him. That's why Izuku keeps making that face around him all the time.

"Yeah," Kacchan says, leaning back and grinning. He turns to look at the sky. "It is."

"Hey, Kacchan?"

"What?"

"Have you ever wanted to be like the sun?"

"Huh?" Kacchan turns his head to look at Izuku, but Izuku was still facing forward, a reverent aura of awe draped over him like a sheer, silken shawl. "What are you talking about?"

"Because," Izuku says. "It's so bright and amazing. It's a ball of heat and fire that's like, a bajillion times bigger than the Earth. It's strong enough to keep the Earth from spinning away and make us live through its light."

"It's not really a ball of fire, dummy," Kacchan says with the all-knowing authority that only a five-year-old can have. He can't remember the science lessons from last week exactly, but he remembers the important parts. "It's a super heavy ball of gas. And the light isn't what keeps us from dying. It's the warmth."

"But the light is important too, since it gives plants food and lets us see stuff during the day."

"Well, duh. Everyone knows that. Who cares?"

"I think the sun is really cool. All Might is like the sun. He's saves people and shows them the right way to do stuff. Everyone knows about him and everyone needs him, like the sun. Wouldn't it be amazing to shine like that?"

"That's stupid. If you wanna be like All Might, then do it already. Hurry up and get a quirk so we can start working on our agency. Don't get distracted by a dumb ball of gas in the sky."

Izuku giggles at that, but the faded smile that comes after make Kacchan's skin feel weird, like something went wrong for Izuku and it's up to Kacchan has to fix it. "I guess it's kinda silly to ask Kacchan about that."

Kacchan tilts his head to the side, waiting for Izuku to explain. But Izuku only looks at him, then looks back at the sky. For once, he's quiet, and the silence feels like spiders crawling up Kacchan's spine. It's annoying when Izuku rambles on and on, but it's even more annoying when he stops his stupid nerd rambling. It's like the real Izuku gets locked up in some hidden chest somewhere, and Kacchan is receiving the flimsy, decoy version of him.

It pisses him off, both then and now, when they become older.

Kacchan punches Izuku on the arm, making him yelp. "Dummy."

"Ow, Kacchan," Izuku whines, rubbing at his arm. "That hurt."

Kacchan scoffs. "That was nothing. You have to get stronger, Izuku. Heroes get hurt way worse and they aren't a crybaby about it."

"I'm not a crybaby!" Izuku exclaims, but his voice is wavering slightly, eyes glistening. "And I'm going to get stronger, so we can be heroes together."

"You'd better. I'm not going to wait forever, Izuku."

"You won't have to," Izuku says, rubbing his eyes with one hand and pulling Kacchan closer with the other. He leans his head on his shoulder. "I'll catch up soon, I promise."

Kacchan links Izuku's pinky finger with his, then leans his head on top of Izuku's. The sun blooms, unfolding its petals like watercolors spreading across the canvas. The colors, the light, the warmth—it's all soft against his skin, tender against his hair, steadying his heartbeat and leading him to slumber. "That's a promise you can't break."

3
Distance

The festival is louder than Kacchan expected.

Laughter, music, and chitchat dance in between the stalls like sunlight in glittering dew drops. Smoke wafts towards the sky from some of the food stalls. People roam around, most of them wearing yukatas. Kacchan opted for wearing his normal t-shirt and jeans. His sneakers are black and white, his jeans gray, and his shirt black with the thin golden outline of an annular solar eclipse printed onto the center. He only came to the festival because the old hag and the dumbass extras that trail behind him were all bugging him to go. He would've been in bed by now if it weren't for their bullshit. But the worst part is the fact that those asshole extras had the audacity to be late to the festival, so now Kacchan was left walking around aimlessly by himself like a total shitnerd loser.

Speaking of shitnerd losers, Kacchan finds himself spotting one trying to scoop up goldfish.

The first thing Kacchan notices is the curly green hair and the darkened freckles. The next thing he notices is the way Deku's stupid blabbermouth was blathering away under his breath, his eyes darting between each and every one of the goldfish swimming languidly in the water. The third thing he notices is the emerald green yukata the shitnerd is wearing. It has a light green leaf pattern printed across it, and it scrunched up a little from Deku's squatting position by the short container holding the fish. The sleeves of yukata flutter as Deku suddenly jabs at the water, creating a huge splash of water that soaks the front and right side of his yukata. It startles the other kids playing, making them gawk at him.

Cute is first word that comes to mind when Kacchan processes all of this, but he immediately crushes that thought and incinerates it in his mind, like crumpling up a piece of paper before burning it inside his fist.

"Yes!" Deku shouts, standing up so quickly he stumbles and nearly falls over. He recover quickly, like the stupid, resilient piece of shit he is. He turns towards the guy in charge of the game, and everything about him—his left hand clenched into a fist, his right hand gripping the scooper, his chest puffed out like a little kid who thinks they did something impressive, his curls bouncing with the sudden movement, his jade eyes, his cheeks, his lips, his smile—it all shines, warm and inviting and all-consuming, pulling everything towards it like a light drawing in a moth. "I did it!"

The older guy running the game sighs, returning the smile with a small one of his own. "Congrats, kid. Let me bag that fish up for ya."

Deku hands the fish over. Kacchan can practically see the sparkles in his eyes, and it pisses him off. The moron hasn't realized how he disturbed the other players. The other festival-goers stare at him for a few moments before they shrug off Deku's outburst and return to chatting and playing. But Kacchan isn't gong to let is slide. They're in their second year of middle school, for fuck's sake. What's he going around acting like a elementary schooler for?

"Oi," Kacchan says, making Deku whip around to look at him.

"Woah, Kacchan?" Deku exclaims, taking a couple of steps back. "Wh-What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. What's a loser with no friends doing at a summer festival?"

"W-Well, um—"

"Here's your fish."

"Oh, thank you," Deku says, taking the clear plastic bag and bowing. The water and the fish splash around inside the bag with his hurried movement. He walks swiftly away from the booth without looking at Kacchan.

Kacchan catches up to him easily, considering his movement isn't restricted by his clothes like Deku's is. Kacchan grabs Deku's shoulder, forcing him to stop. Deku lets out a little shriek at the contact. "Eeek!"

"Deku, don't ignore me, you piece of shit!" Kacchan says, digging his nails into the cloth. He leans in, voice low and breath dangerously close to Izuku's ear. "Let's have a chat, Stalker-san."

"I wasn't stalking you," Deku whispers, glaring at him while trembling. That's something that's always been a part of him, a feature of his that doesn't die, even in the future. Shitty Deku.

Kacchan grits his teeth at the pathetic face in front of him. "Then why the hell are you here?"

Deku looks away. "I wanted to enjoy the festival by myself. I had no idea you'd be here, Kacchan."

"Hah?" Kacchan says. Deku is like a wilted, shriveled up sunflower whenever he's left out of group work or outside for a non-hero related reason. Now, all of a sudden, he's comfortable with hanging out by himself despite not being able to feed his nerdy hero obsession? It's only been a week since summer vacation started. There's no way he changed that much overnight. "You expect me to believe that bullshit? You're a lonely loser and you know it. I know you hate it, so why don't you cut the bullshit and—"

"Fine!" Izuku suddenly shouts. "You want to know why I'm here? It's because my mom has been worried sick about me staying home all the time since and I'm tired of seeing her cry because I have no friends, so I came out tonight pretending I had plans just to put her at ease. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

That stops Kacchan cold. Izuku's face twists as he chokes back a sob, and he rubs at his eyes with the cloth on his arms, streaking clear snot and tears onto the fabric.

"Let go of me, please," he whimpers, shaking off Kacchan's hand. Deku sniffles, struggling to stifle the noises of his crying so as to not draw attention to himself.

Deku is a disgusting little worm of a weakling. Kacchan knows this. It's why he hates when Deku tries to act all tough, like right now. He should know his place as a bug. His existence is inferior to Kacchan. He should hurry up and accept it so that he'll stop wasting his time.

Seeing this especially hurts, since Kacchan doesn't understand his errors until a bit further into the future. If only witnessing this again could allow him to send a message to the past, telling Izuku to hang in there a little bit longer, or commanding Kacchan to stop being an idiot. But spectators can't interfere. They can do nothing but replay the past vividly, inside such a short instant like this.

"You're pathetic," Kacchan says, but it comes out more solemnly than he intended.

"I know," Deku replies, without missing a beat. He rubs his right cheek against the green fabric on his shoulder, lips trembling with a wobbly smile. "I know."

For once, Kacchan and Deku are agreeing on something. It doesn't gratify Kacchan as much as he expected it to. Deku is usually so argumentative, but today, it's like there's no energy left in there. It makes Kacchan want to touch him. To punch him, of course. Never for any other reason.

"I'm going this way," Deku says quietly, without looking at Kacchan. "I hope you have fun at the festival with your friends."

It's pathetic, the way he hangs his head low and shuffles his feet as he walks to some unknown destination within this maze of street cuisine and carefree bonds. There's a slimy, slithering sensation wrapping itself around Kacchan's ribcage as he watches Deku slink away without fanfare. He grits his teeth, as if that would be enough to stop the weakness clawing its way out.

"There's a park that's a couple blocks west from here," Kacchan says, loud enough for Deku to hear and stop for a moment. "It's got a massive jungle gym that's far off from the trees lining the park. If you go to the top by the big twisty slide, you'll get a clear view of the fireworks without getting caught in a crowd of extras. I know because I've went there with a couple of extras a while back."

"You're not going to go there tonight with your friends?"

"Those dumbasses are fucking late! They don't deserve a good spot for the fireworks."

Deku says nothing in response. He continues on his tense stroll. Kacchan scoffs to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets. That shitnerd has no sense of gratitude.

Suddenly, a scream slices through the festival cheer. Kacchan faces the source of the noise, where person was standing only a few meters away, swinging their fists into the stalls like a mad tornado of senseless fury. People run like headless chickens away from the villain, shouting and tripping. Kacchan takes his hands out and readies them, heat building in his palms like a warm reassurance. Among the debris spraying everywhere, a large plank of wood goes flying towards the left. His head turns to follow the movement and that's when he sees the little girl sobbing, standing right in the path of the wood. He freezes. Before Kacchan can shout, or move, or do anything to stop the tragedy from hurdling to its start point, a flash of green enters Kacchan's vision.

The images trudge through Kacchan's mind like they're trekking through mud. Deku reaches out after the leap, wrapping his arms around the little girl as he shoves her out of the way. Kacchan will never forget the expression on Deku's face. There are tears droplets splashing out from his lashes and floating past his head. There's fear gripping his body language, twisting and tugging at the meek features of his face. But in his eyes is something that—despite the harshness in the world, despite each injustice and cruel act that beat him into the ground over and over again—keeps standing after every fall. Kacchan of this moment doesn't know why, but he hates it. Seeing Deku like that makes him want to grind his face into the dirt even more. It's a nasty, rotten sensation—the type that thickens the air with its heated stench, something that will fester in the years to come.

Deku lands hard on his right side, the plank narrowly grazing his leg as it soars past him. He lets go of the little girl and sits up to kneel on his knees. "A-Are you okay?"

The girl stares blankly at him for a moment, mimicking the dumbfounded expression on Kacchan's face for a few seconds before bursting into tears again. Deku flounders, unequipped to handle a terrified toddler. "Uh, um, don't cry! I mean, that debris could've killed us, but, uh—"

Kacchan rushes towards them, yanking Deku up by the front of his yukata. Deku yelps in surprise, holding his hands up in front of him in a placating manner, as if that has ever worked in calming Kacchan down. "Why? Even though you're smaller and weaker than me..."

"C-Calm down, please. Now isn't—"

"Why?" Kacchan yells again, bringing Deku closer to him, their faces centimeters apart. "Why'd you rush in there without thinking? If you're gonna kill yourself, do it somewhere else!"

"But, the little girl—"

"Don't forget that you're a quirkless loser, Deku," Kacchan snarls, because it's true. The Kacchan in this moment can't understand why Deku won't give it up already. He's wasting his time by risking his own life. Kacchan's words come out low, but they're still audible over the panic and commotion in the background. "You're never going to be a hero."

The tears are no longer droplets, but streams, running from Deku's eyes down his cheeks and off his jaw, like a waterfall of inadequacy. His lips are wobbling, making his words almost incomprehensible. But he continues to speak. "I don't know if now is the time to be talking about something like this, but I'm not going to give up. I'm not backing down. That's what it means to be a hero. Right, Kacchan?"

He's shaky, so shaky. His entire body is quivering. But the audacity to say something like that is in him, and it never leaves, no matter what Kacchan does to him. Kacchan's fist is clenching the cloth of Deku's fabric so hard that his hand is beginning to shake.

The fight in Deku vanishes for a second. He shouts, "Behind y—!"

Without looking, Kacchan blasts the debris behind him with one hand. His eyes don't leave Deku's for a single second throughout it. The explosion sends wind towards them, rustling their hair and clothes. The golden light simultaneously brightens the edges of Kacchan's figure and darkens the shadows in the middle, like an eclipse. The smoke wraps around them, hiding them, trapping them, intertwining and contorting between them and them alone. The light slackens Izuku's muscles, making his lips part and irises shine at Kacchan. There's no mistaking it—everything inside Izuku was radiating out into awe and admiration in its purest form. It's the only expression Kacchan ever wants to see from Izuku—Deku.

Deku, Kacchan reminds himself. Because Izuku is useless.

Kacchan shoves Deku away from him, parting the smoky curtain around them, and just like that, the spell is broken. He can hear the sound of heroes taking care of the villain in the distance, and the little girl's parents have taken her away from danger. In the distance, the sound of fireworks boom through the air, faint pink and red lights reflecting off of his skin. Kacchan shoves his hands into his pockets and walks away without saying anything more. He's wasted enough time tonight. The extras can watch the fireworks by themselves. Kacchan heads home, leaving Deku to stand there and watch as his back becomes smaller and smaller in the distance, the space between them continuing their rapid growth like unbreakable thorns in between their hearts.

4
Proximity

Summer, again.

Kacchan hates it.

The sweat, the humidity, the warmth of the season's sun and heat never leaving him alone—he hates how he needs it, hates how it reminds him of old times, hates how much he misses its prominent and unwavering presence during the dark, cool nights.

Kacchan hasn't seen Izuku since graduation. They had exchanged contact information before because of group projects, but outside of schoolwork, they never spoke to one another through texts or calls. They never needed to. They lived in the same dorms and attended classes in the same school. Even when they went on vacation or did internships under different pro heroes, there was the knowledge that they would definitely see each other again after whatever was keeping them apart that negated any longing they might've felt during the physical distance forced between them.

Kacchan took that guarantee for granted during their time at U.A. Things improved without them having to bare their hearts to each other and admit what the unnamed force gravitating them towards each other was. Things got better and better until suddenly, they were separated. Why did they let themselves get separated?

And now, they've gone four months without exchanging a single word or glance with each other. It's been impossible to arrange any group meetups, but Kacchan has managed to spend time with everyone that was close to him from their class except Izuku. This is the longest they've been apart over the course of their entire lives. In the grand scheme of their timeline, four months is nothing.

And yet, Kacchan finds himself breaking already.

This moment, these memories, they're the closest ones to the end, to when Kacchan began this journey through time. It won't be long now.

He pulls up Izuku's contact information and taps on the daunting phone icon next to the number.

He waits.

Maybe it isn't the best decision for Kacchan to reach out and bridge the gap. Izuku might be doing better without him. 

It rings, and rings, then rings some more.

It certainly looks like Izuku is doing better without him, considering all the events and ads he's been doing lately. What if he doesn't want Kacchan to bridge the gap? What if their separation at graduation was the burning of their connection to each other?

But Kacchan keeps waiting, because even with his head bowed, face crushed against the dirt, he doesn't know when to quit. He can't bring himself to let go, not even when he desperately wants to. He's always been selfish like that.

Suddenly, the line connects.

"Kacchan?"

The voice is low and raspy, heavy with sleep and a bit deeper than Kacchan remembers, but perfect. So breathtakingly perfect. Listening to his voice over the crappy connection between their voices is a thousand times better than any advert or news recording can convey, because this isn't Deku—it's Izuku, and he's directing his voice at him—Kacchan—and no one else.

"Hey, Deku," Kacchan says, and the simple greeting feels so savory on his tongue. "Can't stay up late for shit, I see."

Izuku chuckles, and Kacchan's heart squeezes inside his chest. "I wasn't trying to. For once, I went to bed early last night."

"Sounds like a nerd's finally gotten some common sense. It's a miracle."

"Woah, I don't know if that's right. The other day, I left my fork on my plate while I was heating up some leftovers, so I was about five seconds away from exploding my microwave. Don't you think common sense is putting it generously?"

Kacchan snorts at that. Of course Izuku would do something like that, clumsy and careless as he is.

"Dumbass," Kacchan says, but it's got all of the sweetness and none of the bite.

"It's funny you called me, actually."

"Why?"

"I was dreaming about you."

Kacchan's heart stutters in his chest. "You stalking me in your sleep, nerd?"

For a few moments, there's no words from the other end of the line. Kacchan can hear Izuku's breathing, and through the phone, it's almost as if he's breathing next to Kacchan's ear in bed, like when they were kids sharing a blanket together. Except, Kacchan can't feel the warmth of his breath or see the sleepy expression on his face. Kacchan wants to experience that secret intimacy they shared in the dark again. But Izuku could have someone else under the covers with him right now.

Kacchan tightens his grip on his phone.

"Why did you call me?" Izuku asks. It feels like they're teetering on the precipice of something that could be greater than the sum of their parts. Kacchan breathes in slowly, then takes the dive.

"Because I wanted to."

"You...wanted to?" Izuku repeats, like he's tasting the words on Kacchan's tongue to understand him better.

"Yeah." Kacchan presses his cheek into his pillow, sinking into the softness. "I miss you."

Kacchan can practically hear the thoughts sprinting through Izuku's mind, over the phone. He sort of wishes Izuku would start muttering and give him a sneak peek into what he's feeling.

The silence becomes too long for Kacchan to bear, and he finds himself speaking again before Izuku can respond. "Let's meet up."

"Right now?"

"Right now," Kacchan affirms. "In the park we used to play in as kids, by that clearing we would hunt for bugs in."

"Kacchan, it's four in the morning, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I'm sure."

Izuku lets out something like a sigh mixed with a laugh, sounding helpless. Kacchan can imagine his smile over the phone, half-lidded eyes and bed hair painting a picture of beauty in Kacchan's mind. "Okay. I'll meet you there in fifteen."

"Got it."

With that, their call ends, and Kacchan rolls over onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. Contrary to popular belief, Kacchan is not the type of person to run headlong into things without thinking them through first. He's quick-witted with great instincts that guide him through the field, but this situation definitely gets his heart jumping. Whenever things involve Izuku, his actions come before the deliberation. It used to be inexplicable, but the developments they shared at U.A. and the four-month distance between them has Kacchan finding explanations in the unexplained.

He tucks his pager into his pocket and heads out in his sleep wear—a black t-shirt with a gray skull on it and black sweats. As he blasts himself high up so that his next explosions won't disturb the city's sleepers, the night air hits him like the velvety petals of a moonflower against his skin. He realizes that he doesn't know what he's going to say. He's not exactly the most eloquently spoken out of the two of them, which is saying a lot since Izuku loves to ramble and go on tangents.

Kacchan tries to go over all the things he could and should say to Izuku on his way there, but the words come out jumbled and lacking, like he's trying to solve a puzzle using all the wrong pieces. Whatever happens until dawn, whatever's at the other side of the precipice they're tilting on, Kacchan will make sure there are no regrets waiting for them in the light of day. He needs to speak honestly, or else emotions inside of him will erupt, and Kacchan's not sure anything will be left of him after that incineration.

He lands smoothly at the edge of the clearing. It's just as he remembers it: clandestine and saturated with the memories of their youth. There are fireflies shimmering around them, acting as fallen stars underneath the moonlight. Kacchan's footsteps are loud against the silence of the night. He sees Izuku sitting cross-legged a few feet away from the pond, staring into the water. He's wearing black and white basketball shorts and a white tank top underneath an unzipped gray sweater. His pager is clipped onto the waistband of his shorts.

"Couldn't be bothered to change?" Kacchan asks, sitting down next to Izuku.

Izuku shoots him a sheepish smile. "Well, it's not like I had much time to plan. And you came in your pajamas too, so I guess we're even."

"How would you know what I wear to bed?"

"I remember from when we lived in the dorms. Unless your fashion sense has changed dramatically over these past four months?"

"It hasn't." Kacchan lays down on his back, tucking one hand behind his head. The sky is an immeasurable and empty blue, completely starless. "This view fucking blows."

Izuku lays down next to him, and Kacchan can't help but take note of how close he is to him. Their arms are practically squished together. Their hands are near each other, with a mere few centimeters of space between their pinkies. Kacchan wants to reach out and take Izuku's hand in his. Why does he want to take Izuku's hand? Why have the past four months felt so hollow and colorless without Izuku?

"It's not so bad," Izuku says. "The moon looks pretty."

"I could give you way prettier skies on a mountain climbing trip."

Izuku turns his head to meet Kacchan's eyes. His eyes look gorgeous lit up by the moonlight, like the finest, richest viridian pigment in the world. He chews on his bottom lip for a little bit before responding. "Do you want me to go places with you?"

"Yes," Kacchan replies, without hesitating. "Everywhere."

Izuku opens his mouth, then closes it. He turns his head back towards the sky, and even in the dim glow, Kacchan can see the way Izuku's face begins to blush. "You can't just say stuff like that."

"You used to say shit like that all the time. Guess it's your fault for rubbing off on me with your stupid nerdiness."

"You call me a nerd, but which one of us was obsessed with collecting limited edition All Might cards as a kid and still owns them today?"

"That was supposed to be a secret you took with you to the grave, asshole!"

Izuku laughs, and it's carefree. It's honeyed and golden and perfect, like it was supposed to be before their quirks came in, like it is supposed to be now, since their bond is no longer fraying at the edges. In this way, the around them becomes plush and airy, like the feathers of a bird. This is how Kacchan wants things to be between them, with him. But he can't have it without cleaning their shared set of wings first.

"Don't worry, Kacchan," Izuku says, eyes sparkling in the dark. "It's just another shared secret between us. But if you tell anybody about One For All, then your true identity as a nerd might not stay between us after all."

Kacchan scoffs, "As if. That kind of information is way more dangerous than the knowledge One For All, and I'll make sure it never sees the light of day."

"Smart choice."

"Speaking of which, has that shitty power been giving you new problems lately?"

"It's not shitty. And no, thankfully. But the vestiges have been saying some weird stuff to me."

"Weird like what?"

"Haha, well, you know how they have access to my experiences and memories and stuff? Apparently, that includes the memories I had before I acquired One For All. So, they saw a lot of things and got the wrong idea between myself and a certain someone, but I know they're wrong with the advice they give me about that person and—"

Kacchan cuts off Izuku's rambling before it spirals out of control into a full-blown muttering storm. He hasn't noticed it, but his heartbeat has picked up its pace. "They were talking about me, weren't they?"

Izuku doesn't reply.

Kacchan asks, "What did they say?"

Izuku closes his eyes and folds his hands neatly atop his chest, like he's resigning himself to an unwanted but unavoidable fate. "They told me that...I shouldn't let go of the things that are most important to me."

Important to him. Kacchan is one of the most important people to him.

"Who said you have to let go? Four months passed and you didn't once think that maybe I would've liked to know what the fuck was going on in your life?"

Izuku opens his eyes and meets Kacchan's glare head on. "You never contacted me after graduation either! I thought you didn't want anything to do with me."

The fight in Kacchan fizzles out. He didn't tell Izuku to come here so he could blame him for their mutual misunderstandings. "I couldn't find a way to justify staying in yours."

"Huh?"

"The time we spent together or near each other was because we happened to attend the same schools up until graduation. There was no avoiding each other. I couldn't figure out a good reason for you to choose to have me around, not one that made sense at least."

"Kacchan..." Izuku whispers. He rolls onto his side to face Katsuki properly. In his eyes is sincerity blooming, shining, reaching for the sky with admiration as its wings. The light from the moon and the fireflies soaks his hair and leaves Kacchan's fingers twitching with the urge to touch those green curls. "I've always wanted to be near you. That's something that won't ever change. So let's be a part of each other's lives again."

Kacchan rolls onto his side to mirror Izuku. Their faces and bodies are much closer like this. Having Izuku within arm's reach is exhilarating and terrifying. Prior to graduation, Kacchan might've been torn between having him stay close or pushing him an arm's length away, but now, all Kacchan wants is to keep their heartbeats close together.

"I can't, Deku," Kacchan says. The sky is fading out from navy blue to cobalt blue, hinting towards the graceful rise of dawn. "Not until I say what's on my mind."

"Kacchan?"

Kacchan looks directly into Izuku's eyes, like there are thin, burning, invisible tethers tugging them into each other's line of sight, heating up the space between them. "I keep thinking about that time, before I got my quirk, and the things we could've done from then to now. The time we spent together as friends or whatever could've been longer. Instead, I got so damn wrapped up inside my idea of strength that I ignored my own weaknesses and mistreated you."

Izuku watches him with careful attention. "Where is this going?"

Kacchan won't mess this up. He knows it as well as he knows Izuku. Kacchan will hand his heart to Izuku to do with as he pleases. If Izuku chooses to tear it apart, then so be it.

"It's because you were so far ahead of me growing up that I desperately tried to snuff you out."

"Kacchan, you were the one ahead of me. I couldn't do anything until All Might—"

"I don't mean in terms of physical strength or skill." Kacchan glances at the sky, where the light is beginning to melt over the sky, warm hues washing in like the ocean tide. "I'm just a selfish bastard, and you're not. It's as simple as that. It's not the type of thing a hero should be, but it's what I am."

"You're not—"

"I am. It's why I called you out here in the middle of the night, and it's why I'm going to say this."

"Kacchan...?"

"Izuku," Kacchan says, like it's a wish, like it's a murmured prayer for the future. Izuku's breath hitches, and he looks at Kacchan like he's picking the stars up one by one and placing them back into the sky with his bare hands. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you growing up. You don't have to accept my apology, or even respond. But I wanted you to know that I regret the bullshit I pulled. I don't have any right to ask to be in your life again without telling you that. And I need you to know that I do give a shit about you, and I'm going to keep caring about you even if you don't want me around, because we're childhood friends, because I'm selfish. I want you, Izuku. I want us."

"What...What are you saying...?"

Kacchan's hands are sweating the same way they do during a particularly difficult fight. He clenches his hands into fists, then unclenches. The feelings are too much coming out at once, cascading from his chest through his throat and out of his mouth, towards Izuku. But Kacchan and Deku have never been ones to take things slow and easy.

"I love you," Kacchan says, and once the words are out there, it's like wings unfolding from his back, pure, feathery white aching to take flight. "I'm selfish, that's why I'm telling you now, right after I've realized. I don't know if I deserve even an ounce of your attention, but I do know that our lives are worse off when we're apart, or when we avoid looking at each other properly."

Izuku is gaping at him. Kacchan isn't sure if that's a good or bad thing, but he keeps going. He has to, because he's done running away.

"Our lives would be easier without each other, but we'd be much weaker too. There are things I can't do, heights I can't reach, without you. That's why, after everything, I think we should give it a shot, together."

There's a watery sheen overlaying Izuku's eyes, glistening. His voice wavers, unsteady like a ship in stormy waters. "Kacchan...we can't. We—I'm, I'm not—I mean, villains will—"

"We're fuckin' stronger and more badass together." Kacchan reaches out and takes Izuku's hand in his own. Izuku's eyes flit down to where Kacchan is intertwining their fingers. "I don't know what it was like for you, but these past four months and our time at U.A. have been an eye-opener. Izuku, I need you. Being around you makes me want to be a better hero and a better person. Whether as friends or lovers"—Izuku's face flushes when Kacchan uses that word—"I want you by my side, for the rest of our lives."

Izuku comes closer, enough that Kacchan's vision is filled with nothing but Izuku's wild curls and hazy eyes that shine like sunlight peeking through clouds and sprinkle-like freckles across smooth, vanilla skin. Izuku lifts his other hand and brushes his fingertips against Kacchan's cheek before hovering around the back of Kacchan's head. Kacchan parts his lips ever so slightly. But, the haziness in Izuku's gaze clears, and he is pulling away, untwining their fingers and backing away as if he's been burned.

"Izuku—"

"Kacchan, I—"

Suddenly, both of their pagers beep loudly, and the hypnotic attraction between them is severed. A crackly voice speaks through the receiver. "Calling all heroes in the vicinity. There's a villain with a water manipulation quirk tearing destroying the property in the boardwalk, and he's planning on heading towards—"

Izuku stands up quickly, holding his hand out. Kacchan grabs it and pulls himself up, and Izuku gawks at him for a second.

"Fuck," Kacchan says, readying his stance for flying. "Let's go."

Izuku shakes himself out of it, and gets his game face on. "Right."

They're nearby, so they make it to the villain in less than five minutes with their quirks. The villain is a tall male who looked to be in his early to mid-twenties. Thick streams of water spiral out of the ocean and surround him like writhing blue serpents. The hero who presumably sent out the request for help was laying on the ground, coughing out water and clutching their right arm. The villain tenses its serpentine water, ready to spring forward. Izuku blasts the water apart with his shoot style before the villain can deal the finishing blow. Kacchan flies past the twisting water and lands near the wounded hero while Izuku engages with the villain.

"Fuck," the hero groans. Kacchan rips the hero's cape so he can bind the wound on their arm. "Thank you."

"What's the deal with this guy's quirk?" Kacchan asks. He tunes out the shouts being exchanged between Izuku and the villain. The ground rumbles with the force of both of their attacks. "How'd you get injured?"

"I made a mistake when guessing what his quirk was." The hero grunts in pain as he sits up. Kacchan grabs their shoulder to steady them. Kacchan hears Izuku cry out in pain as he's slammed against the wooden planks, but he resists the urge to look behind him. "The villain isn't just hydrokinetic. He can manipulate the temperature of the water too."

Kacchan's grip on the hero loosens as he looks over to the blood seeping through the cloth on their arm. "Which means..."

Kacchan whips his head around, and strangely enough, at this moment, the incident at the summer festival flashes through his mind. There's an overwhelming sensation flaring through his body, and his palms ignite with white-hot stars rocketing him towards Izuku, where the water is solidifying, sharpening, deadly like ivory fangs. He doesn't feel his body collide with Izuku's or feel the ice piercing his abdomen. He doesn't see the expression on Izuku's face, doesn't see the red blooms from him like spider lilies signaling the end. He doesn't hear the screaming that comes either. The only thing he registers is the way the horizon is outlined boldly with searing orange against the ocean, the sun finally beginning to appear above it, teasing him with its divine rays of light.

Then, his vision begins to flash.

5
Absence

His whole life, flickering in his eyes like a reel being played in an old movie projector. In each year, each day, each and every single moment, Izuku was there, by his side, in his mind, flowing through his heart and binding into his soul. They're one and the same. Izuku is his past, present, and future. His better half.

There's so much more that needs to be said, so many memories that need to be made. But there doesn't seem to be any way out of this. This is defeat, in its darkest form, and yet, Kacchan can make out the sun's fiery yellow form rising above the horizon, erasing the darkness with wishes and prayers.

+1
To Be Afraid

He opens his eyes, and the first word that comes to mind is Izuku.

But the only thing he sees is the cold white tiles of the hospital ceiling. His body echoes with pain, aching in an unfamiliar away. He wasn't as comfortable with landing himself into the hospital as Izuku is, so he's not used to this. It takes a bit of effort to turn his head and look around.

The equipment next to his bed is mostly white, along with the furniture and floor. Several vases are standing on the table next to his bed, some filled with more flowers than others. On his right is a row of windows. Beyond the glass is a blue sky with clouds attempting to shield the brilliance of the sun high in the sky. He squints at the sudden brightness and moves his gaze down to where a certain shitnerd was staring at him, teary and breathless.

"Izuku," Kacchan tries to say, but it comes out choked and distorted underneath the oxygen mask. He tries to pull his right arm up, but can't. Izuku has both of his hands holding Kacchan's hand in a death grip.

He looks up when he hears Kacchan say his name, eyes wide, red, and lined with dark circles. His hair is a mess too, with the way it's matted on the right side and unwashed. Clearly, he's been sleeping here at the hospital, by Kacchan's bedside.

For a few moments, Izuku just stares, like all his prayers have been answered. He lets out a slow, shaky sigh of relief and closes his eyes, hanging his head over their connected hands.

With more effort than he's willing to admit, Kacchan brings his left arm up, unstrapping the oxygen mask and lifting it off his face. His throat is weak from underuse and already, Kacchan finds himself saddled with the urge to get out of the hospital. He grunts as he begins to sit up, but Izuku gently pushes him back down so that he's laying flat on his back. Izuku presses a button next to him to call a nurse into the room, then hunches over in his seat.

"Hey," Kacchan says. "How long was I out?"

"A few days," Izuku replies. "The doctors told me you woke up a couple of times, but not for long."

"I don't remember that shit," Kacchan grunts. "I remember that shitty small fry villain though. Tell me you caught him."

Izuku eyes darken and his voice gets lower. "Oh, I did."

Kacchan elects to ignore the strange chill that goes down his spine when he hears that. "How long have you been in here?"

"That's not important," Izuku says, bringing Kacchan's right hand—the one that Izuku has clasped in both of his own hands—up to his lips, softly pressing a kiss onto the smooth, unblemished skin. The feeling of Izuku's lips and Kacchan's skin together is like petrichor mixed with sunlight and birdsong by spring water, with cherry blossom petals floating in the crystalline stream. "I'm so glad you made it."

"There's no way a small fry could do me in like that," Kacchan says, but his voice is shaking. Again, he doesn't say. Kiss me again.

"I'm so happy," Izuku says, closing his eyes. His lips are still hovering near Kacchan's hand, teasing Kacchan with the possibility of his touch again. "It was scary. This hospital was the closest and their staff didn't have any strong healing quirks. I kept asking myself what I would do if you were gone, and the answer was always a white void."

"Izuku..."

"Just our luck, huh?" Izuku laughs, partly genuine and partly racked with the weight of their previous misfortunes. His eyes are nervous like a puppy's. Tears splash out around him with the same desperation he had during that summer festival so many years ago. "For this to happen right after you told me something I never thought I'd hear..."

"Did you want to hear those words from me?"

"Yes," Izuku says, and it's like a wish coming from his lips. He rests his forehead against his hands, which were still clasped around Kacchan's. "No. I don't know. I didn't want you to end up...like this."

"I don't want to see you like that either," Kacchan huffs, but his voice grows quieter, more delicate. Like when they were laying together in the dark with nothing but the moon and empty sky above them. "But you keep gambling with death anyways. It's up to me to raise your odds of survival."

"I'm sorry," Izuku says, and it's a little too genuine for Kacchan's liking.

"Between the two of us, you're the last one who should be apologizing, dipshit," Kacchan says, squeezing Izuku's hand. "I can still kick your ass in a cast."

Izuku snorts, shaking his head. "Who's the dumbass now?"

Kacchan's eyes widen. "Did you just—?"

The rest of that sentence fades away when Izuku's lips connect with Kacchan's and suddenly, the answer to everything between them is laughably simple. Izuku intertwines their hands and cups Kacchan's cheek with his right hand. Kacchan holds onto Izuku's wrist with his left hand, lost in the feeling of their connectedness. It's obvious that they're built for each other, with the way their lips move together. Adoration and intuition dance between them like twin stars. All the apprehensive contradictions of trust and fear melt away into honey twirling around their tongues, liquid sunshine gliding between them, wholehearted and radiant and eternal. It's perfect. Kacchan and Izuku are perfect together.

Izuku pulls back a few centimeters, still close enough for Kacchan to feel his breath.

"You didn't have to say anything for me to know, Kacchan," Izuku murmurs above Kacchan's lips. From the corner of his eye, Kacchan vaguely registers the sun rising higher into the sky, white clouds drifting out of the way with reverence. "I forgave you a long time ago."

Kacchan is breathless from their kiss. He can hardly comprehend Izuku in this state. He's not hearing Izuku's words so much as he's directly receiving the electric feelings from Izuku's heart straight into his own heart. It's intense and all-consuming in all the right ways. Kacchan's question floats up from that inexpressible, bonded place of understanding. "Why now...?"

"That night, I was going to say no, not out of honesty, but out of fear." Izuku's grip on Kacchan's hand tightens. His eyes are on Kacchan, but his vision is somewhere else. "But you ending up here, and me waiting here, not knowing if you would survive...It made me realize that we can't afford to be afraid."

Sunlight cascades into the room, fully unveiled. It surrounds Izuku like a halo, glowing with fiery wings and answered prayers. The golden blaze drips onto Kacchan's skin, illuminating his skin with warmth and blessings. Kacchan has never been to heaven, but he imagines that it looks like this—lit up with his and Izuku's love joined together, an endless palette of vibrancy and passion coloring the darkness into oblivion.

"Even if my future holds nothing but tragedy for the people around me, I want to keep you selfishly by my side for as long as I can," Izuku leans a few millimeters closer, and Kacchan subconsciously parts his lips at the slight movement, "because I can't imagine a world without you in it, Kacchan."

"I'm never going to be one those tragedies," Kacchan says, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Izuku's hair. "Happiness is the only shit you'll be receiving from me in the future, shitnerd."

The hospital room, the equipment, the noises of the outside world—the background fades away completely. Kacchan and Izuku are celestial bodies caught in each other's gravitational pull, locked in each other's line of sight with nothing but each other and the light of their suns wrapped around them, pure heat and force colliding their lips together in a supernova of rightness and comfort. They kiss again, and again, and again, basking in the knowledge that the rest of their lives will be spent by each other's side, their lives flourishing in each other's sunlight, right where they belong.