Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Katsuki came to himself in the middle of a nightmare.

Deku was staring at him, one eye widening, the other swollen closed. Good art was supposed to position everything so that your eye moved over it just right, following the pattern the creator had intended. So it was positivity cinematic the way his head listed, turning to reveal the rounded burn on his temple, the spikes pointing out from it into his hairline, five-fingered.

“Kacchan,” Deku said, “You—agh.”

Some extra had Deku by the arms, holding him in place, twisting. Katsuki grabbed the guy's thumb, and his whole grip came open, like flipping a lightswitch. It was so easy.

"Hey!" the extra said, but he let go of Deku's other arm on his own.

"Scram," Katsuki said evenly, catching Deku's shoulder before he could totter over. There were two extras, actually, now that he was looking around—but the second guy was just standing back to observe, tapping his long fingers together

Deku latched on to Katsuki's arm, but his grip was limp.

"Come on, Bakugou, the first extra said, folding his arms, "I thought you—"

"Get out of my sight!" Katsuki insisted, trying not to yell. He wasn't sure if it was working—his heart was pounding too hard to hear over.

The second extra stepped forward, tugged on the first guy's sleeve. "Let's just leave, Kariage," he said, "We can always come back later."

Deku's knees gave out, and Katsuki crouched with the motion, lowering him to sit against the wall of the alley. By the time he looked up again, the extras were already disappearing around a corner.

"Kacchan," Deku said, smiling like an idiot, 'I'm glad you're back again."

"Where else are you hurt," Katsuki said, trying to scan him for injuries. He knew how to do that—for Deku especially—but he was having trouble focusing.

"I'm not—it's not bad," Deku said, trying to bat his hand away and missing. His depth perception must be off.

"Okay," Katsuki said, scooting away, "Stand up then."

For a moment, nothing really happened. Then Deku reached over and put his hand on the wall, got his feet the right way around and slowly, slowly stood.

Katsuki stood up with him, waiting for the moment he would tip over. It didn't come, but Deku didn't step away from the wall either.

"Let’s go home then,” Katsuki said, jerking his head to point the way.

Deku nodded, winced, and stepped forward. Then his legs gave out again and he grabbed Katsuki’s shoulder to keep from falling. “Sorry!” he yelped, but he didn’t let go.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. Then he took one of Deku’s hands and brought it around to the other side of his neck, grabbed Deku under the arm and started pulling him down the alley.

“It took longer this time,” Deku said. He was walking along with Katsuki, but his feet kept dragging. “It’s been—maybe two months? Sorry I haven’t kept better track—I kept losing the notes where I—“

“Shut up,” Katsuki said. Then he bit his tongue—not hard, just enough to hold it in place.

“Did you remember anything from in-between?” Deku asked.

Katsuki shook his head.

“I figured,” Deku said. His head lolled forward for a second, but he pulled it up again. “Oh! We think it’s a quirk effect!”

“Huh,” Katsuki said. They’d come to the end of the alley, so he was distracted, trying to plan the next part of their route. He could remember these streets. Both their houses were to the left.

“Yeah we think—maybe someone used it on me accidentally. Or else, some villain is practicing before their main target, because I’m not—there’s not a lot of people who would notice if—wait Kacchan, don’t go that way!”

“Why?” Katsuki asked, stopping in his tracks.

“I’m not staying at my house anymore,” Deku said, sagging forward.

“Did the roof finally cave in?” Katsuki asked, pulling him up again.

Deku shook his head. “No, I’m staying with al—ah, um—at Mister Yagi’s house.”

“Awesome,” Katsuki said, pivoting around. “You lead the way.”

After about five minutes, Deku got tired.

“Let’s just get across the next street,” Katsuki told him, trying not to look at his face, “Then we’ll take a break.”

“I can keep going,” Deku said, which made it sound like he was still going right now, and not flopping around like a big sack, or a training dummy.

Katsuki rolled his eyes again, but he couldn’t think of anything flippant to say.

Then Deku went completely limp.

Quickly Katsuki set him down against the wall, but by the time he started looking him over, Deku was moving again, blinking back into consciousness. He frowned up at Katsuki, confused.

“Okay,” Katsuki said, glancing around, “Wait right there.”

“Kacchan,” Deku said, trying to grab at his sleeve, “Where are you going?”

“In there,” Katsuki said, pointing up at the corner store they were crouched against. “Listen—if anybody tries to mess with you—scream or something. I’ll come back out.”

“Okay Kacchan,” Deku said, head listing to the side. It wasn’t quite clear if he was tracking.

“Hey,” Katsuki said, snapping his fingers in Deku’s face, “I’m serious. If I come out here and see someone hurting you, and you've just been quiet, I’ll—“

“Beat me up?” Deku asked, grinning.

Katsuki scowled, wracking his brain for a better comeback than that, something that Deku would really hate. “I’ll cry,” he said finally.

Deku’s eye widened. “No way.”

"Like a baby," Katsuki said, standing up. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

There wasn’t a lot of useful stuff in this corner store—it was mostly full of snacks and sugary drinks that would rot your teeth. There wasn’t a pharmaceutical section. He couldn’t find witch hazel anywhere. Eventually, he got so turned around that he ended up back at the front window, where a small aloe plant was sitting.

“Hey, I want that!” Katsuki shouted across the store, pointing down at the pot.

The lone cashier crept out from around the counter, looking confused. “I don’t know if that’s for sale?”

“Make an exception,” Katsuki demanded, rummaging around in his pocket for money.

The man leaned forward to inspect the plant, tucking his hair behind his ear. “I guess I could sell it to you?” he said, “I don’t think anyone is attached to it. Bring it up to the counter.”

Quicky, Katsuki hefted the pot, pushed past the man and set it next to the cash register. Then he pulled all the cash from his pocket and set it down on the counter nearby. “Take whatever you want,” he said.

The cashier came back around behind the register, stopped for a moment to consider what he was being offered, and Katsuki saw his nametag for the first time.

“Hah?” Katsuki blurted, “You aren’t Shigaraki!”

The man turned to stare at him. “I—I am though?” Then he grimaced. “Wait, you must have met my brother.”

Katsuki looked him up and down, trying to remember if Shigaraki had a secret brother or something, and then his eyes landed on the book leaning up against the register. “Oh,” he said, shoulders sagging, “Nevermind. Think I got you confused with somebody.”

Shigaraki shrugged, counting out the money. “It happens.”

“Nice book,” Katsuki said, inwardly cursing himself. What a stupid thing to say.

“Oh?” Shigaraki said, face brightening, “Have you read it? Do you like comics?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki said, because it seemed like the fastest way to get out of this conversation unscathed.

“What was your favorite part?” Shigaraki said, visibly excited.

Katsuki wasn’t about to admit that he’d been answering the second question. And anyway, you didn’t need to have read something to know stuff about it. You could pick a favorite from any set of information.

“The part where Captain Hero beats the Demon King,” Katsuki said.

Shigaraki dropped the cash in his hands. “You remember that too? I knew it! I knew that would happen!”

“No duh!” Katsuki insisted, not really sure how to get this interaction back on the rails, “Haven’t you ever read a superhero story? The good guy always wins! Anyway—you better do your job. My friend is waiting on me.”

“Right—right!” Shigaraki said, turning back to the wad of cash. He pushed it into two piles, picked up a section to hand to Katsuki, “Does this seem fair?”

“Just take it all,” Katsuki said, snatching up the plant, “And stay out of your brother’s basement.”

Even though he’d only been gone for about five minutes, by the time Katsuki got back outside, Deku had somebody crouching over him.

“Hey!” Katsuki said, brandishing the plant. He didn’t need the pot to survive. “Leave him alone!”

“Wait—Kacchan!” Deku blurted, waving his hands.

The crouching man stood up, and up, until he was towering over Katsuki. “So you’re Kacchan,” he said, blue eyes glowering. Then he pointed down at Deku. “Did you do this?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki said. His mouth tasted like chalk. “I did, All Might.”

All Might’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced down at Deku in a way he probably thought was subtle.

“I didn’t tell him!” Deku insisted, waving his hands again.

“Young man,” All Might said, stepping forward. Even in his gangly form, he knew how to carry himself in order to intimidate. “Why did you just call me that?”

“Okay, now that’s stupid,” Katsuki said, stooping to set down the plant, “Be mad at me if you want. But you don’t get to critique my dream continuity when you’re acting so out of character for yourself.”

Like All Might would spare a second to deal with him while Deku was in trouble.

“Kacchan,” Deku blurted, trying to push himself up from the ground, “Kacchan—you aren’t dreaming.”

“Sure,” Katsuki said, standing up again.

All Might was still staring at him, but now he was looking a little concerned. “Young man—are you quite alright?”

“But it’s happened three times!” Deku insisted, holding up three fingers for emphasis. “Dreams don’t happen the same over and over—Kacchan you can’t be trying to wake up, or—fly, or, or—“

“I told you I wouldn’t be stupid!” Katsuki insisted, shoving his hands in his pockets, “And anyway, haven’t you ever had reoccurring dreams?”

“Not three times in a row!” Deku shot back.

Katsuki shrugged. “It’s just because I’m stressed about—“

Then the realization solidified like ice in his gut.

“Is there someone you could call to come help you?” All Might asked him, voice gentle, “I’m not certain you’re in your right mind, young man.”

“Deku,” Kacchan blurted, then winced. “Izuku—you’re right. You’re right.” He’d have realized it ages ago, if he hadn’t been so wrapped up in thinking about how everything made him feel, if he’d ever stopped for even five seconds to look at the world from somebody else’s point of view.

Deku nodded, expression relaxing. “Good—I’m glad you—“

“No,” Katsuki said, shaking his head. “This isn’t my nightmare. It’s yours.”

A crash like cymbals rang out all around him, and Katsuki shot upright on the couch. He sat there for a moment, breathing hard, trying to remember what had just happened.

“Come on man,” Kaminari whispered from somewhere out of sight, “He just fell asleep.”

He’d left, hadn’t he—before All Might could call the cops on him or something. So he and Deku should have a head start on whatever bad dream construct thing replaced Katsuki when he woke.

“Hey,” Kirishima said, stepping around the edge of the couch to look down at him, “It’s still early. You don't have to wake up yet.”

Katsuki threw off the blanket, staggered upright and pushed his way past Kirishima toward the kitchen. Kaminari and Todoroki were standing there, watching Sero carefully peel the lid of a pot off the floor.

“Call the hospital,” Katsuki demanded.

Kaminari tilted his head. "You're the only one with Midoriya's Mom's number."

"Not that hospital, you moron!" Katsuki shouted, pounding his fist on the counter, "The one All Might's at!"

Everyone was staring at Katsuki now. It was five in the morning. Why were these idiots even in his apartment?

"He's at Yuuei," Kirishima said, coming up behind him, "Recovery Girl is watching over him."

"Call her then," Katsuki said, turning to walk back out of the kitchen, "Because All Might didn't fall. It's not a health issue. He's in Deku's coma."

"You good man?" Sero asked, leaning over the counter to catch his eye.

"That villain lied about her quirk," Katsuki continued, walking to the door and pulling his shoes off the rack, "It must have a mental component. It's interacting weird with One for All."

"Oh snap!" Kaminari said, rushing around the counter, "For real?"

Kirishima's eyes widened. "You saw something."

Katsuki shoved his foot into his other sneaker, pulled the end up over his heel. Then he snatched his keys off the ring on the wall.

"Where are you going?" Todoroki asked.

"To jail," Katsuki announced. Then he burst out the front door and marched off down the hall.

Kaminari ran out behind him, pulled ahead and started walking backwards to face him. "Committing crimes all by yourself? Mind if I join you?"

"Um—let's maybe not do crimes," Sero said, grabbing Katsuki's arm.

Katsuki shook him off.

"I love crime," Todoroki said, in that even deadpan that was impossible to parse.

Katsuki turned to look at him, searching for a clue in his face.

Todoroki smirked. "It keeps me employed."

"I think I could be persuaded," Kirishima said, finally catching up, "But maybe first we should—"

"Would you all shut up?" Katsuki interrupted, violently throwing the key ring onto the ground, "I'm just visiting. Physically visiting the jail. No crimes."

"Great!" Sero said, quickly snatching up the keys, "I'll drive!"

Mogami Minori slumped into the chair on the other side of the glass, resting her chin lazily in one hand. Then she yawned. "It's really early, you know."

"It's only seven," Katsuki said, crossing his arms. Once they found out what was happening, his friends had made him go back to his apartment and change into his costume, but he'd left the gauntlets in the car.

"Ugh," Mogami said, slumping forward against the desk in front of her, fingers trailing up against the glass. Her limp lavender hair fell forward like a waterfall, covering her face. "I think I need coffee."

"Get Deku out of that coma," Katsuki demanded.

Mogami brushed a strand of hair out of her eye, tilted her head to look up at him. "You must not have read the reports—I've been trying that for ages."

"Sure you have," Katsuki said, still glaring.

Mogami sighed, pulling herself back upright. "You should really read my quirk description. Most people who get hit die within the hour. Deku's been going strong for—what, is this three days now?" She bit her cheek, raised her eyebrows innocently. "So I've really been giving it my all."

"I've been in your dreamscape," Katsuki said.

For just a second, Mogami's mouth dropped open. "Ah," she said, trying to cover for it, "I'm kind of lost now."

"Listen," Katsuki said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table, "I know it still runs when you aren't activating it, or erasure would have turned it off. But I bet you could get in there and deactivate it yourself."

"I really can't," Mogami said, inspecting her nails, "Would be nice though. I could get a lighter sentence."

Katsuki nodded. "Yeah. You could."

Mogami narrowed her eyes. "Oh please. The minute I stop being the thing that's keeping Deku alive, everybody will forget I ever existed. I'll be locked up forever." She blew her hair out of her face, and looked significantly at Katsuki. "Bet I won't even get visitors. But if he dies under my quirk—then I go down in history. Not that it matters though. I already told you I can't control it once it’s active."

“Huh,” Katsuki said, “I thought you were keeping him alive. Anyway, Deku would help you.”

Mogami laughed, lolling her head back against the top of her chair. "You're so funny—but you don’t know the intricacies of my quirk. And do you really think Deku’s gonna wake up from my death coma and be looking for ways to make my life better?"

"Pretty much," Katsuki said, folding his hands together, "Not sure if he could get you out of jail, considering other people have died under your quirk, but he's probably your best shot. And if you want visitors, I bet he'd come talk to you about your quirk. It'd save me from having to listen to him brainstorm other ways you could be using it."

Mogami pulled her head back up, furrowing her brows in confusion. "Why?"

"Beats me," Katsuki said, shrugging, "But I'm serious. You might even become friends, if you aren't careful."

"Ha!" Mogami said, pushing against the desk so that her chair tilted back. "Like we would just forget what happened."

"You could," Katsuki said, "Most of the time."

"Listen," Mogami said, righting her chair and leaning forward over the desk again. "It's early. And I think you're wasting both of our time."

"You won't get him the way you're going," Katsuki said, folding his arms back over his chest, "Because you've got him trapped in there alone. And Deku never takes himself into account."

Mogami narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that Deku will never give up,” Katsuki said, grinning, “Not even in a hopeless world. That’s how you killed those other people, right? I’m telling you, it won’t work on him.”

“You’ve certainly imagined an elaborate set of abilities for my quirk,” Mogami said, but her tone wasn’t flippant enough to hide her interest.

Katsuki stood up. “Suit yourself. But I’m telling you—you won’t win this way. You’ll be better off if you quit while you’re ahead.”

“So let me get this straight,” Kaminari said, jumping down the stairs outside the police station two at a time, “Mogami’s quirk actually makes some kind of evil dreamscape—and Midoriya and All Might are both stuck there—and you go there too when you’re asleep?”

“How come you can do that?” Sero asked, “I thought you said this was a One for All thing?”

“I had it,” Katsuki said, but he was only half paying attention. Behind them, the horizon was breaking into dawn, pink and blue and orange—the way it never did, in that other place.

Sero stopped in his tracks, blinking. “You what?”

“Must not have stuck,” Todoroki said, but his eyes betrayed him. He was curious.

Kirishima didn’t react. Katsuki had told him already.

“You’ll have to wait for Deku to get back and ask him,” Katsuki said, reaching the bottom of the stairs and turning to continue down the sidewalk. “It was only for a couple hours. And I don’t remember any of it.”

“What I want to know is why you’re in middle school,” Kaminari said, throwing his arm over Katsuki’s shoulder. “I mean, not that that isn’t rough, but the guy has fought Shigaraki. Surely there are worse places in his imagination that you could build an evil dreamscape out of. What about that nomu doctor?”

Katsuki grimaced. He could see where Kaminari was coming from—his first time in the dreamscape had been more cathartic than anything. But the second time—he’d spent the whole day prior grappling with the knowledge that Deku had come home early after work, gone right to bed and never woken up—that All Might had fallen alone in his house or something, and he might not ever wake up either—and when he’d gone to sleep, his dream had played out just the same as the night before. Only this time when he’d come up to Deku after class, offered to help him however he could, Deku had only smiled sadly and said, “Sorry, Katsuki—I’m not falling for that again.”

That was basically how life worked though, right? You could always make yourself a better person going forward. You could never do anything about the past.

The car chirped as Sero unlocked it with the key fob, and Katsuki snapped back into focus long enough to realize that everybody had gone silent.

“I think I’d prefer the nomu guy,” Katsuki said. It was probably the lack of sleep lowering his inhibitions.

“It’s got to depend,” Todoroki said, stepping around to the passenger door, “On what kind of childhood you had.”

Katsuki opened the back door in front of him and sat down. Then he saw Kirishima standing in the doorway behind him and scooted over into the middle.

“Now where?” Sero asked, reaching over to adjust the rear view mirror.

“Back to the apartment,” Katsuki said, leaning back against the headrest, “I gotta go to bed.”

Deku stepped up to Katsuki’s table in the corner of the lunchroom like he was trying to determine if he was trespassing on an evil spirit’s property. He stopped just behind the chair on the other side, hands hovering over the backrest. “Kacchan?” he asked.

Katsuki nodded toward the chair.

Dropping his backpack, Deku pulled the chair out from the table and plopped down into it. He kept staring at Katsuki, searching for something.

“It’s me,” Katsuki said.

“I know,” Deku said, and then, “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Katsuki said, turning back to his food. He shoved a bite of rice into his mouth.

Deku tapped his fingers on the table, one after another, but slow enough to be quiet. “You really believe it,” he said, “Don’t you?”

Katsuki looked up at him, shoulders still bent over his meal. “Look—just keep pushing forward, okay? Fight the quirk effect with—with Mister Yagi. I don’t care what you believe.”

“I believe you,” Deku said, easily.

“Don’t,” Katsuki said, throwing the chopsticks down on his tray, “Don’t believe things just because I say it.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Deku said. He was staring down at the place where the wall and floor met, smiling softly. “And anyway—I never said I was taking your word for it.”

Katsuki sat up straight, twisted a little to set his elbow on the back of his chair. “Why then?”

“Right after—well, there was this time I was upset,” Deku said, shrugging, “And—I can remember it so clearly—I was standing in the shower and looking up through a hole in my roof.”

Katsuki snorted. “No wonder you have mold.”

“Yeah,” Deku said, but his mind was somewhere else, “Yeah—I have all kinds of problems with the roof—it leaks a lot. But mostly, I remember looking up at the sky through the hole, and I was searching for a star, even though it’s always cloudy. And I never found one.”

Then Deku set his arms on the table, leaned forward to look Katsuki in the eyes. “Kacchan—I don’t live on the top floor.”

Katsuki blinked. That was right—he’d helped to move a couch up to Deku's apartment, in the real world, during one of the times Deku had an arm in a sling. And even in this place, when he'd come over briefly, the stairwell had kept going up after they stepped off.

“So I think,” Deku said, tapping the table for emphasis, “I mean, whatever this quirk is, it’s warping reality like crazy! All the All Might merch is bad, you know? And the heroes changed their patrols—do my neighbors’ apartments even exist upstairs? So I think—at this point, it’s weirder if it isn’t a dreamscape. Because in that scenario, the quirk is only constructing a fake reality for—three people, I guess—and not all of Musutafu.”

“Ten,” Katsuki said, and took another bite.

Deku’s eyes widened. “There’s more? How do you know?”

“Okay,” Katsuki said, mouth full. Putting down his chopsticks, he pushed his tray to the side, out of their way. “How much do you actually want to know? Because this is gonna sound crazy.”

“Kacchan,” Deku said, staring harder, “I just told you I think we’re living in a false reality.”

“Definitely weirder than that,” Katsuki said.

“Hang on then,” Deku said. He bent over, unzipped his backpack, and pulled out a notebook. The cover was ripped off. “Um—we did that on purpose,” Deku said, pointing down at it, “All Mi—uh, Mister Yagi had it laying around in his office, but we didn’t like the cover.”

“I don’t care about your notebooks,” Katsuki snapped, because that did make him feel better to hear, and it was annoying that Deku had known it would.

Deku finished opening to the correct page and folded the paper flat. Then he said, "Are we friends?"

"Huh?" Katsuki said, mostly because he hadn't been expecting it. Deku was the one who had always insisted they were friends, despite everything.

"I mean—in the real world," Deku said.

"Yeah," Katsuki said. They were, now.

Deku nodded, grinning. He reached for his pen that had rolled away, picked it up and clicked it open. “Okay,” he said, “Tell me.”

Then the lunch bell rang.

"Uh," Deku said, "I can take notes while we walk."

“You got hit by a villain’s quirk in the real world, and that’s what caused this dream,” Katsuki said, reaching down for his bag, “But the other people who are here got pulled in because of another quirk that was affecting you at the time. Eight of them are stuck here like you—I’m only sort of connected, so I can wake up and go back to the real world.”

“Huh,” Deku said, frantically trying to write and stand up at the same time, “So you always knew it was a dream?”

“Yeah, Katsuki said. He slung his bag over one shoulder, pushed in his chair and grabbed his tray. “But I didn’t know it was a dreamscape. I didn’t think you were really here.”

“You said you didn’t know what was happening to you,” Deku insisted, putting down the notebook for a second to grab his backpack.

“I knew I was waking up,” Katsuki said, walking around the end of the table, “But I didn’t know—I thought, maybe there was a dream logic reason for it. You know, like the things that keep you from running away in a nightmare. Knowing that you’re asleep doesn’t explain it.”

Deku shrugged. “Well—we figured it out." He'd gone back to taking notes, but he was also following Katsuki to the counter where empty trays were deposited. He was probably going to run into a chair on the way—or worse, one of the dreamscape extras filling the room. "So what’s the other quirk that’s affecting me?”

“Okay,” Katsuki said, rubbing at his temple, “So there’s this guy who works at the corner store.”

“Oh, Shigaraki?” Deku said, looking up for a second, “I know him! He’s really nice!”

“Yeah, cause he’s a real person,” Katsuki said, “His quirk is that he can share it with other people.”

Deku stopped walking for a second, mouthing something to himself and moving his pen around in the air. “He can share—his quirk? But if that’s all the quirk does, then there shouldn’t be any observable—“

“Okay—okay,” Katsuki said, holding his hand up to stop Deku’s ramble before it took off. Quickly, he shoved his tray onto the counter where it belonged and stepped back to where Deku was standing. “There’s—let me think about how to say this.”

“Sorry,” Deku said, turning to walk out of the cafeteria.

“You’re fine,” Katsuki said. “That’s a good point—but the corner store guy also has a brother who can give and take quirks.”

“That’s impossible,” Deku said. Then he must have seen something in Katsuki’s expression, because he started gesturing wildly. “I mean—you did say it would be crazy though! Is Shigaraki’s brother stuck in the dream too?”

“No!” Katsuki insisted, stepping out into the hall “He better not be!”

Deku jumped and stepped back, eyes wide.

“Sorry,” Katsuki said, wincing. “It’s just—he’s All Might’s arch nemesis.”

“What?” Deku said, slamming his hand onto the side of the doorframe.

Behind him, someone snickered. And Katsuki could see some other extra over his shoulder, looking annoyed that Deku was blocking the door—so he snatched the side of Deku's sleeve and yanked him out into the hall.

“Okay, we’re getting sidetracked,” Katsuki said, dragging Deku toward their classroom. “The point is that the corner store guy got a stockpiling quirk from his brother, and so now his quirk takes people’s quirks with it when he passes it around.”

Deku shook himself free long enough to jot something down, then stopped writing mid motion. “Wait—you said Shigaraki could share his quirk—does it revert back to him at some point? Does it take other people’s quirks with it, or do those revert to their owners too?”

“Uh,” Katsuki said, staring down at the paper in Deku's hand, “So—one time it might have—actually nevermind, we’re not going there. Transfers are permanent. Quirk’s called One for All.”

“Wait—that doesn’t make sense though,” Deku said, tapping the pen against his mouth. “How are so many people under its effect at once? And wait—how come All Might is here? Did I get caught up in one of his fights? Oh no—I hope I wasn’t in the way of—“

Katsuki snatched the pen from Deku’s hand. “It’s all the people who used to have the quirk,” he said, “And you.”

Deku’s brow furrowed, “Then how did—“

“Am I interrupting something?” All Might said. He must have come out of a perpendicular corridor, but to Katsuki it felt like he'd just materialized there, larger than life, hands on his hips

Deku startled so violently that his shoes squeaked against the floor.

“Hang on,” Katsuki said, glancing around to be sure he hadn’t missed something, “How come you’re at my school?”

“Because every time I take my eyes off Young Midoriya,” All Might said, glaring down at Katsuki, “I find that something terrible is happening to him.”

“Um,” Deku said, reaching up to tug at All Might’s sleeve, “Al—ak, um—Mister Yagi, Kacchan was telling me about the quirks that caused this—um, all of this.”

“Really,” All Might said, not turning his head at all.

Deku nodded. “A villain used their quirk on me, and it interacted with another quirk called One for All.”

All Might went rigid, just for an instant—Katsuki wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he hadn’t known.

“I think it’s the common denominator between the people who are unaffected by the villain’s quirk,” Deku said, tapping his page of notes, “All the people who—“

“Who told you that?” All Might demanded, “Where did you hear that?”

Deku jumped, and the notebook slipped out of his hand. The spine thumped against the floor.

“Young Midoriya,” All Might said, visibly deflating, “I didn’t mean to—“

“I told him,” Katsuki said, “Listen, you—“

“Did it take your quirk?” Deku blurted, still staring up at All Might, “Did it steal your quirk when you shared it with somebody else?” Then he sucked in a breath, turning to face Katsuki, “Wait—Kacchan—you’re here too!”

“Young man,” All Might said, stooping to pick up the notebook, “If we're going to keep discussing this, we would do well to find a less public location. However, I’m not certain your friend here has told you the full truth."

“I was getting there,” Katsuki said, hating how petulant he sounded. All Might was right about their location at least—the other students were rushing around them on the way to class, like they were the rock stuck in the middle of a river. So Katsuki raised his hand to push Deku over into the corridor All Might had come from—and then decided it might be better just to walk there himself.

“Did One for All take your quirks?” Deku insisted, following Katsuki.

All Might stood up, straightening his back, and followed them out of the main hall. “Who are you working for,” he asked Katsuki, gaze sharp again.

“I’m a pro hero,” Katsuki said, because he couldn’t stand the thought of lying to All Might. “You’re both trapped in a dreamscape that’s mimicking the past. You were born quirkless, and you received One for All from Shimura Nana when you were fourteen.”

“How far in the future?” All Might said.

Katsuki blanked. He hadn’t expected to get this far. “Uh—it depends,” he said, standing up a little straighter, “Don’t quite know which year this is supposed to be. Maybe six or seven years?”

All Might smiled, and Katsuki got the distinct impression that he was standing on the wrong side of it. “You’re lying,” All Might said.

Katsuki felt his face pinching up. He understood why All Might had it out for him—if anything, it was pretty nice to know that somebody was following Deku around and helping him not be stupid—but where was he going wrong here?

“Oh wait,” Katsuki said, slouching forward again, “You’re thinking about—Nighteye’s prophecy didn’t happen.”

“Those always happen,” Deku said, not even looking up from his notes as he walked.

“Hey! Whose side are you on?” Katsuki said, throwing Deku's pen in his general direction. Then he turned back to All Might. “This isn’t the only case. There was another prophecy of his that didn’t come true—maybe a year or two from now.”

“How convenient,” All Might said.

They stared at each other for a moment, All Might looking smug, Katsuki frantically trying to think of a way out of the hole he’s dug himself into.

“You were quirkless,” Deku said, breathless, staring in wonder down at his page of notes. He'd crouched to pick up the pen and never come up again—he was still there on the ground, writing furiously. “The other people who had One for All must have had strength quirks—and if it landed with you last—“

“One for All does not carry the quirks of previous holders,” All Might said gently.

“It does actually,” Katsuki said, figuring he might as well just go for it, “It’s just that they couldn’t be accessed before it hit singularity. That’s why the former users are still connected.”

“The former users are dead,” All Might said, in a tone that would abide no argument.

“Then they live on through One for All,” Deku said anyway.

All Might looked stricken. “Young Midoriya—how can you possibly justify that conclusion?”

"I trust Kacchan," Deku said, standing up, "He wakes up sometimes, and then the dream takes over—and that's when he's so mean to me. But he'd never actually do that—we're friends in real life! He'd never bully me."

"That's not true," Katsuki blurted, stomach twisting. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to say next—only that it might have killed him if he'd let Deku keep talking.

Deku frowned, more pensive than upset. "You said we were friends."

"We are now," Katsuki said, swallowing, "The dream—exaggerates. But it doesn't really make stuff up. I was terrible to you—for a long time."

"Okay look,” Deku said, not missing a beat, "That's a pretty weird thing for him to clarify if he’s trying to lie to us."

All Might shook his head, just slightly, the motion mostly visible in the way his hair moved. "Many people truly believe the tall tale they're telling, Young Midoriya."

“It's not just him though,” Deku said, flipping his notebook over to reveal another blank page. “Before you met me, I saw the lady from your shrine in the park. That’s why—I was really confused when I first came to your house. Eventually, I decided that they must just look alike, but—“

“You were right,” All Might interrupted, but he sounded shaken, “That couldn’t have been her. Shimura Nana has been dead for years.”

Deku looked up from his notes, up and up to reach All Might’s face. “That was her!” he said, “We were talking, and that’s what her family name was—she was looking for her son, Kotaro.”

All Might’s brows shot up, and his mouth fell open, and then his whole face kind of froze like that. He didn’t say anything.

Then the second bell rang. Deku was late to class again.

“Um, Kacchan,” Deku said, looking warily at All Might, “Did you lose your quirk?”

“No, I only had One for All for like five seconds,” Katsuki said, grinning. At any other time he would have been concerned by the face All Might was making, but it might actually be helpful if he stayed too stunned to speak for a little longer. “That’s why I’ve only got a partial connection.”

Deku opened his mouth to ask another question and then froze. His pen stopped moving across the page. Eyes watering, he slowly brought his other hand up and clasped it across his mouth.

“I did say crazy,” Katsuki said.

“Don’t,” Deku said, voice breaking, “Don’t mess with me.”

“Don’t listen to me then,” Katsuki said, easily.

For a moment, Deku just sat there, chin wobbling. Then he blurted, “Am I a hero in the future?” like he was scared the words might not come if he didn’t hurry.

Katsuki nodded.

“What’s my hero name?” Deku whispered.

“Deku,” Katsuki said.

“Don’t call him that,” All Might said, less forcefully than Katsuki was expecting. Actually, he looked like he might be nearly as distraught as Deku—he was just a little better at hiding it.

“Deku’s his hero name,” Katsuki said, dropping his head back to glare up at the ceiling, hopeful that the dreamscape might break this one too and give him a way out of the conversation.

“What?” Deku sobbed, voice dangerously shrill, like he might start shrieking any second, “Why?”

Katsuki threw his hands in the air. “Don’t ask me! Probably because you’re bad at naming stuff!”

Deku started laughing—but he was still crying too. He rubbed at his face with his free hand, and snot got all over it.

“Let us—think about this,” All Might said, cadence careful. “I need time to think this through.”

Katsuki nodded, spun on his heel to stalk out of the hall. Then he stopped, remembering. “Wait, De—Izuku, you can break out of here.”

Deku sort of choked—it was hard to tell if it was an acknowledgment or if he was just too worked up to breathe.

“One for All can fight off mental quirks,” Katsuki continued, hopeful that the information would sink in later, “And you have it right now. You can fight this thing off.”

“How?” Deku blubbered, valiantly trying to put pen to paper again. He couldn’t hold his hands steady.

“Uh—donno,” Katsuki said, looking to All Might for help.

“You should go to class,” All Might said, nodding back toward the mouth of the hall.

Katsuki stuck his hands in his pockets, turned and marched back out into the main hall. He was not sulking about the dismissal, and he was not gonna skip class at this stupid dream school either. Deku might start worrying about him again.

There was nobody out here anymore—everyone had made their way to a classroom. It shouldn’t have been a problem, but Katsuki hadn’t actually attended this school in years, and he’s been doing his level best to forget most things about it. There was no sense wasting mental effort on something so useless.

He walked over to the stairwell and stopped on the first step. His classroom had been upstairs, right?

Katsuki knew what pursuit sounded like—there was something subtle in the direction of the noise, honing in toward your location instead of rushing around at random—so he turned around to see who was coming while Deku was still several buildings down the street.

“What?” he shouted.

Deku kept running toward him, head down and limbs flailing. He hadn’t yet learned how to hold himself in action, how to move quietly.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but he stopped there, leaning back against the nearest building to wait.

It took an embarrassing amount of time for Deku to catch up with him, and once he got there he bent over, hands on his knees, panting.

“You ditched All Might?” Katsuki asked.

Deku shook his head, straightened and wiped his sleeve over his mouth. “He had—he was coughing. He had to sit down.”

“He’s okay?” Katsuki asked, pushing away from the wall.

“Yeah—yeah,” Deku said. His breaths were coming more evenly now. “He just needed a second—and then I had to run from Kariage.”

Katsuki glanced back down the street and saw the extras standing way back there at the mouth of an alley. They must have seen him too—after a few seconds they turned around, disappearing the way they’d come.

“Idiots—did they think they could catch you walking?” Katsuki asked, readjusting the strap of his bag. Deku wasn’t that slow.

"I have to hurry back," Deku said, half to himself "I'm not supposed to hang out with you alone."

"Smart," Katsuki said, stomach sinking. "Hang on though—I gotta give you something."

"No—wait," Deku said, waving his arms, "I mean—you should come back with me. All Might said you should come over."

Katsuki stopped with his bag half off his shoulder. "Isn't he—I thought he didn't believe me."

"He's come around," Deku insisted, which was hard to parse, because Deku just saw things better than they really were sometimes. "He wants to hear more about the future you've seen—he just wants me to have backup in case you wake up or something."

"Alright," Katsuki said, shouldering his bag again. "Lead the way."

Deku started down the sidewalk, back the way he had come. As they went, he kept fidgeting with the straps on his bag, but Katsuki didn't realize he wanted to say something else until he started opening and closing his mouth, like the world's most lethargic fish.

"Spit it out," Katsuki said.

"Oh—I was just thinking," Deku said, like that wasn't a thing he did constantly at all times, "It's just—the more I turn it over, the more that Deku does kind of make sense as a hero name."

"Okay," Katsuki said, because he'd been too stubborn to actually listen to the explanation Deku had given when he chose it, and too reluctant to ask for a recap anytime after.

"Because all the other names I can think of are riffs off of All Might," Deku continued, grimacing, "And I guess—if I got a quirk from him—then probably we were interacting a lot? And that would be super embarrassing! Imagine having Might in your hero name while All Might is your teacher—I could never! And Deku does feel more like—Kacchan?"

"What," Katsuki spit out. He had to consciously relax his jaw in order to keep his teeth from grinding.

Deku looked concerned. "Did I—say something wrong?"

Instead of responding, Katsuki dropped his bag on the ground, crouched to undo the zipper, and pulled out a thin notebook.

"What's that?" Deku asked.

Katsuki had been about to explain, but now that Deku had demanded an answer, he decided to just throw the book at him instead. The pages flayed out in the air, slowing its trajectory, and Deku actually managed to catch it before it fell.

"Lots of people are worried about you, in the real world," Katsuki said, standing up again, "They've been writing you well wishes and stuff—I could only remember some of 'em, but I wrote it all down when I got back here."

Tentatively, Deku turned the notebook the right way around and flipped open the first page. His eyes were already watering, which wasn’t a particularly good sign. Maybe Katsuki should have waited until they got back to All Might’s apartment.

“There’s—so many,” Deku whispered, carefully turning to the next page.

“Your Mom isn’t in there,” Katsuki said, suddenly remembering that he had to make this point, “She’s with you at the hospital. But I didn’t tell her about the dreamscape.”

“That’s good,” Deku said, sniffing. Then he closed the book. “I think—maybe I could read this tonight? Can I keep it?”

“Oh—yeah of course,” Katsuki said, “I don’t want it. Not like I can keep it when I wake up.”

Deku stopped there for a second, probably considering the way all the notes he’d been taking in this world were gonna just disappear. Behind him, the light shifted, shadows growing a little starker.

The movement was instinctive. Katsuki grabbed Deku’s jacket with one hand and used the other to blast them forward. Deku lost his footing and tipped—Katsuki snatched his arm instead of the slipping jacket—they both tumbled over the sidewalk, skidding to a halt a little ways ahead.

Katsuki rolled over, pushed himself up and looked back the way they’d come. The truck was parked diagonally, nose squished up against the building they’d been standing by, like a tube of toothpaste that would personally offend Iida. Smoke billowed out from the dent in the building, but Katsuki couldn’t make out the details from this angle.

Deku peeled himself off the ground too, staggering upright, forward.

“Stay here,” Katsuki said, jumping up after him.

“Kacchan!” Deku yelped, grabbing his sleeve to stop him.

“Remember your training?” Katsuki asked, expectant.

Deku shook his head, blinking, “I don’t—“

“Exactly,” Katsuki said, and pulled away. Then he ran down the street—got all the way up to the door of the vehicle, where he could feel the heat radiating off, before he remembered that whoever was in there wasn’t real. But it only took him a second to decide that it didn’t matter. He wasn’t gonna play this dream like he was different than he really was—and if he didn’t fix this, then Deku would probably try something.

The handle was stuck, but it was easy to blast off, and when he tugged the door came open.

Mogami was sprawled in the driver’s seat, feet kicked up over the dashboard, sipping a slushie through a straw. She looked younger than she was really, and she was wearing the Aldera uniform.

“You’re blocking my exit,” she said, smiling.

Robotically, Katsuki stepped back, giving her room to jump down onto the sidewalk. She strolled forward past him, giggling.

“Hey Deku!” she called, one hand cupped around her mouth.

Deku’s eyes went wide. “Mogami—come farther down this way! It isn’t safe!”

Katsuki followed after her, stomach sinking. He hadn’t warned Deku about Mogami yet. Deku didn’t remember that she hadn’t gone to school with them in real life. And Katsuki couldn't tell him now.

“Wow Deku, you really have a one track mind,” Mogami said, sloshing around the liquid in her cup, “Always trying to play the hero. Don’t you ever get sick of it?”

“Kacchan’s the one who came to get you,” Deku said, looking to Katsuki for confirmation. He must have seen something in Katsuki's expression, because his face shifted, hardening a little, like he’d just realized he needed to do something.

“Don’t get confused,” Mogami said, wagging her finger at Deku, “Kacchan isn’t a hero here.”

Katsuki ran forward—not checking his peripherals, not keeping tabs on Mogami—just with single minded focus.

“What is it?” Deku asked. He slipped his bag off one shoulder, like he was planning to push Katsuki’s notebook in—then thought better of it and took off down the sidewalk.

He’d made the choice too slow. Katsuki was already overtaking him—he caught Deku’s collar with his left hand, raised his right to bring fire down on him.

Deku twisted and slammed his backpack into Katsuki’s face. It wouldn’t have been so devastating of a move if Mogami had left him any ability to react. As it was, he couldn’t dodge it at all, and the impact threw him off balance.

“Sorry!” Deku yelped, already running away again.

Katsuki staggered, thinking in a detached sort of way. How much of this world’s physics could Mogami control? Would she have let him be struck back, if she could have stopped it? Did she have to use him for this, or could she have done it herself, if she wanted?

Then he was running forward again.

Sometimes—especially recently—Katsuki had wondered why you could never quite run from a monster in a nightmare. But he’d never before considered that the monster might not want to catch you.

Deku was too fast to overtake at a walk, but not nearly quick enough for anyone actually trying to catch up. Katsuki couldn’t decide which would be worse anyway—if he really made it back to All Might, and Mogami made him follow, she might find out about the vestiges.

She could not find out about All Might.

Just before Katsuki could grab him again, Deku looked over his shoulder, saw him and ducked. Katsuki’s hand flew over his head—and the momentum of his run carried Katsuki forward. Deku had been ready to stop.

Then Katsuki swung his hand around, used an explosion to change directions, and darted back the other way. Deku was just standing up. He wasn’t moving fast enough yet. Katsuki raised his arm and set off his palm right in Deku’s face.

Deku stumbled, grabbing the side of his head, but he found his footing again.

Katsuki punched him in the gut.

That made Deku totter—step to the side until he ran into one of the brick planters lining the sidewalk. He caught himself on the edge, gasping, and pushed himself back up.

Katsuki punched him in the face.

Deku fell over onto the flowerbed, but that had mostly been momentum and position—the brick kept him from stepping back any farther.

Slowly, Katsuki took a step forward, trying to catch a glimpse of Deku’s face. His nose was bleeding.

All of a sudden, Deku pushed himself up, twisted and threw a handful of dirt in Katsuki’s face. It would have been a devastating move if Mogami had left Katsuki any room to react.

Barely blinking, Katsuki grabbed Deku by the shoulder and blasted him toward the ground. He didn’t notice the angle until he heard the impact too soon, saw Deku recoil before he hit the ground—there was more blood now, pooling under Deku’s head, painted up on the corner of the planter.

Vision swimming, Katsuki crouched down over Deku, caught the front of his uniform in a fist.

“Don’t,” Deku started, breath shaky, “You should—wake up. Don’t cry—please don’t cry.”

Katsuki raised his other arm, and Mogami caught it, used it to pull Katsuki to his feet. It was easy, like flipping a switch.

“Step back over there,” Mogami said, waving him off, “I just needed him incapacitated.”

Katsuki stepped away, slowly, facing backward. He could still see what was happening. Mogami knelt down beside Deku, right where Katsuki had been. The shadow of the planter fell over most of them, but Deku had been knocked past it when he fell, and his head and shoulders were out in the dim light.

“It’s not—really you,” Deku told her, like the absolute stupidest person in the whole wide world, “I’m sure—in real life, you’re different.”

Mogami laughed. “Your friend was right,” she said, setting her fingers on Deku’s temple, turning his head to face the street, “You don’t ever take yourself into account.”

Katsuki’s next step landed on nothing, and his heart skipped a beat—then his heel caught on the pavement, and he righted himself. He’d stepped down off the curb.

“Kacchan!” Deku screamed.

Then the car hit him.

When Katsuki went to the beach as a kid, he’d always waded out farther than he probably should have, daring the waves to knock him over. Sometimes one would crash over him, and he’d get caught up inside it, and for a moment he would forget everything—which way up and down were, how to move his limbs, what he was trying to do and who he was. He could remember after—he always told himself that next time he wouldn’t be startled, next time he would start swimming the minute the water took him. But his growing experience never made any difference.

Pain could swell over you the same way.

Slowly, Katsuki found his sense of direction coming back. He got his hand turned the right way to push up from the ground, but he didn’t have the strength to fuel the movement. He couldn’t figure out which way he had turned when he fell. His ears were ringing too loudly to hear anything.

Then his vision cleared a little, and he saw the light in the distance—two beacons approaching. Was this the other lane? Was it really despair that killed you in this dreamscape, or the things despair led you to stop fighting, to do to yourself? Was he about to figure it out now? Because Katsuki didn’t want to die. He really didn’t want to die.

The world splintered, the same pattern as shattered glass, and Katsuki wondered for a second if he’d been kicked up against a windshield somehow. Then he noticed that the pieces were breaking off, fading away to reveal a deep gray static behind. Mogami was standing across the street, older now, wearing her prison uniform. Deku was gone.

“What was that?” Mogami called, stamping her foot, “You can’t do that!”

Tentatively, Katsuki looked down at himself. He was in a school uniform, but the sleeves were the wrong color, too pale to belong to Aldera. Bolder now, he reached for the pressure against his ribs, bracing for metal, blood, an empty hole—and found only an arm, buried there under the smog. Instinctively, he looked up, to the right, and found the rest of the rolling mass. All he could see of Deku was the top half of his head, his nose and eyes. His pupils were glowing.

“Finally,” Katsuki said. It came out more exhausted than triumphant.

A shiver ran up his spine, and Katsuki saw his own tremor reflected in Mogami’s face. Her mouth dropped open again, and this time, she couldn’t come up with anything to cover it. A crunching static sound swelled behind him, and Katsuki was pretty sure that it wasn’t a lingering result of the impact.

“Who are you?” Mogami demanded, stepping back, “I don’t know you! I don’t know any of you!”

Shigaraki Yoichi stepped out in front of them—Katsuki could only see his back, but it was enough to know he wasn’t wearing the corner store uniform anymore. He stood there for a moment, spreading his hands out in front of him. Then he said, “Get out.”

The world snapped out of existence, like a TV being unplugged, and Katsuki shot up in bed, breathing hard. It was dark in his room, but he could see light against the edge of the curtain, under the crack of the door. There were voices outside.

Roughly, Katsuki shoved back the covers, staggered up and to the door. He pushed it open, pushed himself forward across the living room. Around him, the conversation faded out, and he couldn’t quite tell if everyone had stopped talking when they saw him, or if his focus was narrowing even further in. He made it to the other end of the apartment, shoved open the bathroom door, stepped forward and threw up into the toilet.

The next thing he was aware of was someone taking him by the arm, pulling him back and down to sit against the wall. Katsuki let it happen—he’d already finished with his mission. They’d already won.

Distantly, Katsuki heard his own phone start ringing and cut off. That was good. He wouldn’t have picked up anyway.

“Hey man,” Kirishima said, gripping his shoulder, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want. But you’re kind of freaking me out.”

Kaminari burst into the doorway, slamming against the frame.

“Dude,” Kirishima said, voice shaky.

“It’s good news,” Kaminari said, glancing between them.

“Deku’s awake,” Katsuki said, closing his eyes. It was so bright here, now that he was really looking.

“Yeah,” Kaminari said, “Yeah—his Mom called. You want to talk?”

Katsuki wiped his knuckles across his mouth. Then he shook his head.

Kaminari’s footsteps sounded off across the apartment. He could hear Sero’s voice drifting over from another room, Todoroki telling him to call Yuuei about All Might next.

“You should drink something,” Kirishima said, shifting beside him, “Can you sit tight for a second?”

Katsuki nodded once. Then he tilted his head back against the wall, feeling how the plaster pressed against his scalp.

His second real night in the dreamscape, Katsuki couldn’t figure out what to do with himself. If he stayed away from Deku, it was impossible to intercept everyone who was going after him. But when he followed him around, scaring off people as they came, Deku had this way of looking at him—like it was worse to be left in peace if Katsuki was there.

He didn’t have access to any kind of training gym growing up, but there had been an abandoned building where he used to mess around with his quirk. Katsuki had gone there in the dream, tried to work through some of his regular moves—but they’d gotten too unwieldy over the years. He couldn’t have gone all out without knocking over the building. Eventually, he’d devolved into punching whatever was there—mostly half toppled walls. But he hadn’t gone meaning to do that, hadn’t wrapped his hands properly, and in the future he’d gotten used to using props meant to be attacked—so by the end of that dreamscape evening, his hands had been pretty messed up. Katsuki hadn’t thought much of it. None of it was real anyway.

Then the next day he’d seen some extra trying to run off with Deku’s backpack, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from interfering—and to his surprise, it was actually kind of hard to beat the guy. That was grading on a scale, of course—fighting the fake Aldera extras was like knocking over cans. But Katsuki relied on his hands to fight—it’s where his quirk was centered, and since childhood he’d been building all his movements around that focal point.

And so he got to thinking—he didn’t know all the rules of the dream world, but it seemed like more things had been happening when he was awake, that he had turned back into the person he had been before. And he’d been watching Deku long enough to know that injuries had at least some level of staying power.

At that point it had all seemed so simple. If he could just incapacitate his hands badly enough now, while he was in control, then he could knock the other version of himself out of commission. That was how he could still win.

Deku had caught him right away. “I take it back,” he’d said, starting to cry, “I’ll believe anything you ask me to. Please stop hurting yourself.”

So basically, Katsuki wasn’t going anywhere near that hospital until he pulled himself together.

“I wouldn’t have made it,” Kirishima said.

Katsuki frowned, running his finger over the edge of the glass. “So?”

“I was there with Midoriya—at the raid the other day,” Kirishima continued. He was sitting next to Katsuki again, back pressed against the bathroom floor, turning his phone over and over in his hand. “If I’d gotten hit by that quirk—“

“You don’t have One for All,” Katsuki said, “Deku had a lucky quirk matchup.”

Kirishima shook his head. “No—I mean, even if there was just an end goal—make it through, what was it, six months in world? And then you get out—I wouldn’t have made it. You guys would have all woken up, and I’d have already been dead.”

“That’s what happened to everyone else,” Katsuki said, taking a sip of water. “Doesn’t make you weak.”

Kirishima laughed, just a little. “Deku’s just better than everybody, right?”

“Deku’s not here now, with me,” Katsuki said, trying to set the right emphasis on the words, “Nobody does it all. We’re all good for different things.”

By the time Katsuki made it to the hospital, the thing he was dreading had already happened—Deku had been cleared for debriefing. So Katsuki and Kirishima ended up in an emptying dining hall with Auntie Inko, eating the dinner dishes that hadn’t been bought out yet, waiting for Deku to finish up with the police.

Katsuki wasn’t really sure what to do with himself. He had a sneaking suspicion that Auntie Inko had forgiven him for the same reason she’d forgiven All Might for keeping One for All a secret, the same reason she’d sat back and let Deku keep pursuing his dream career—because Deku would have been miserable otherwise. Katsuki couldn’t really blame her—and he didn’t plan to ask her about it. Mostly, he just avoided her outside of emergencies. He had no idea how to sit across from her and eat dinner.

Also, Auntie Inko looked like she had been crying for a while, and she might start again any second if somebody moved wrong.

A door opened behind him, a little too forcefully, and Katsuki knew who it was without looking. He stood up, turned around, and saw Deku just as he had been imagining him—older, stronger, shoulders held straight—and absolutely livid.

“Why did you do that?!” Deku demanded, rushing forward toward their table, “Why would you do that?!”

Katsuki didn’t have to ask what he meant. Once he’d finished making his statement, Deku would have stayed to review the case files, to catch himself up on everything that had happened over the past couple of days. Katsuki’s conversation with Mogami had been at the station—recorded there. Deku never takes himself into account, he’d been sure to say, right after, I've been in your dreamscape.

Deku caught up to the table, grabbed the front of Katsuki’s shirt—but not tight enough that he couldn’t pull away. “You should have said something,” he insisted, starting to cry, “I could have used One for All some other way. You trained with me for years! You should have known how to—“

“Yeah, I did!” Katsuki interrupted, bracing against the table to keep his balance, “I saw you sit there and overthink every aspect of your quirk. It took you months to get anywhere. We didn’t have that long.”

“It’s been three days,” Deku said, “The public won’t even notice. And anyway—aren’t you the one who’s always saying I should let other heroes do more?!”

“I’m not talking about you, idiot!” Katsuki shouted, shoving Deku’s hand away. “You think comas are a joke? That kind of thing messes with your body—how’d you like to be the reason All Might has another health issue? How’d you like to be the thing that killed him, huh? Because you couldn’t activate your quirk right?”

“I could have done it,” Deku insisted, “You should have let me try.”

“I told you to break out!” Katsuki shot back, “And you didn’t do it. You didn’t know how to do it. You needed a minor quirk awakening. It had to be emotionally driven.”

Deku looked away, jaw clenched, and Katsuki realized he might have run out of things to say, but he was still planning to be upset for a good while.

“I’ll see you later,” Katsuki said, and he kicked his chair back under the table, turned and stalked away.

By the time he got out into the hall, Katsuki was upset too. He’d been right about everything—even Deku had to acknowledge that. It was so stupid that they had to fight about it now, after all that had happened. But Katsuki didn’t regret it. He couldn’t regret it. And if Deku didn’t like it, then he should stop getting a quirk upgrade every time Katsuki got hurt.

His phone pinged—one of the numbers he’d set up to actually make noise had texted him. It was Auntie Inko—one text, one word. Coward.

Katsuki stopped in his tracks and looked up at the bland tile ceiling. It didn’t collapse in on him. So he had no choice but to turn around.

Kirishima opened the door to the hall and startled. “Woah, Bakugou—I didn’t expect you to be right there.”

Katsuki pushed past him, stalked right back to the same stupid table he had just been waiting at. Deku still hadn’t moved—he was still facing the other way.

“Look,” Katsuki said, wracking his brain for anything else he could say that would be remotely conciliatory.

Deku turned around and hugged him.

Katsuki went stiff, but only for a second. He just hadn’t been expecting it.

“I’m sorry!” Deku sobbed. He was going to get Katsuki’s shoulder all wet. “I’m sorry—I would have done the same thing.”

“I know,” Katsuki said, trying not to sound annoyed. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around Deku too. Then he admitted, “I had to get out of there.”

Deku squeezed him tighter, and Katsuki decided to let it happen. He could claim later that he was just trying to make Deku feel better.

“Sorry I let you get hit by a car,” Deku said, voice muffled in Katsuki’s shirt.

Katsuki disentangled one arm, reached up and flicked the side of Deku’s head. “That didn’t happen,” he said, “You were just dreaming.”

Something shuffled on the table, and Katsuki glanced over. Auntie Inko was slowly pushing a tissue box across the table, toward them. Eventually, she couldn’t move it any farther—her arm was too short—and she sat back in her seat.

Deku shifted, and Katsuki let him go. His eyes had gotten all red and puffy, and there was snot smeared across his face. He blinked, saw the tissue box, and laughed. “Hi Mom,” he said, sheepish.

“Izuku,” Auntie Inko said, hands folded on the table in front of her, “Did you dream something about your quirk again?”

That was when Katsuki understood with a peculiar kind of clarity that Auntie Inko was gathering all her information from this exact conversation—that Deku had woken up, seen his mother at his bedside, and decided to just pretend he’d been in a normal coma.

Deku grabbed a tissue and tried to gather up everything on his face. Coincidentally, the movement covered his expression. “Yeah—I saw the vestiges,” he said, voice horse.

“I thought it was like, a whole evil dreamscape,” Kirishima said, eyes wide and innocent, like he wasn’t specifically and expertly hedging the conversation forward.

Auntie Inko’s eyes widened, but not in comprehension. “A dreamscape,” she murmured, the way she repeated back the names of new moves Deku developed.

Deku nodded, pulling the tissue down, “It was just like real life—except all the All Might merch was bad.”

Katsuki started laughing. He hadn’t meant to interrupt—it just kind of spilled out of him, and he had to bend over, catch himself on the back of a chair. It was the stupidest, most deliberate understatement of the century—but it wasn’t really wrong either. Katsuki knew better than everybody what All Might meant—to Deku, specifically—and he couldn’t think of a better metric for the state of things, couldn’t think of a world any stupider than one where the despair ran so bone deep that even your favorite stories started repeating it back to you.

Finally he got a hold of himself, glanced up and saw Kirishima and Auntie Inko looking concerned—saw Deku grinning. “Yeah,” Katsuki managed, “It was terrible.”

The next day, Katsuki went running along the river. He'd started before sunrise, and even then the world had been vibrant, cast in shades of blue and purple, dew sparkling at the edges. Now every color was painted across the sky.

He never ran with earbuds. Kaminari said that meant he was some kind of sick freak. Katsuki said it meant he had basic situational awareness, and then he'd pushed Kaminari's face into his bowl of oatmeal. That had ended the discussion.

Anyway, there wasn't any music to distract him when his phone started ringing.

Katsuki skidded to a halt, set off the sweat on his hands, and pulled out his phone. It was All Might. For a long moment he stood there, staring. Then he set the phone to silent, slipped it back into his pocket and started running again.

Then he realized that his phone was still buzzing—the ringtone had cut off, but it was still vibrating, like an echo without a source. Katsuki grit his teeth and decided to just ignore it. The call would go to voicemail soon enough. He could listen to the recording later, take his time thinking through what kind of message it was.

There weren’t really other people out this early. Cars passed every so often, and the occasional pedestrian came by him, walking a dog or something. Katsuki only looked long enough to be sure they weren’t a threat. Their clothes were woven in bright colors, and when they first looked up at him—before they saw his scowl—they were always smiling.

It was just the normal world. It was so disconcerting.

The phone stopped ringing.

Katsuki shook his head, kept pushing forward. He wasn’t going to stop and call back—he wasn’t sure what kind of things he might say, just now. He could say later that he’s been out running, that he’d been worried the wind would be too loud over the speakers. It wouldn’t be a big deal. He still felt bad about it. All Might wasn’t somebody you should just ignore.

The phone buzzed again, just once. A text.

It was too much—he’d never quit thinking about it now. Stopping in his tracks, Katsuki set off his hands again, pulled out his phone and opened to the notification center, where he could read without leaving a read receipt.

All Might [6:02 AM]

Good morning Young Bakugou!

Katsuki rubbed the bridge of his nose. That didn’t tell him anything.

All Might [6:02 AM]

Don’t worry about missing my call. I’ve taken a bit of time off, so I won’t be teaching later today. I’m in no rush.

Katsuki turned off the phone. Why couldn’t he just have this excuse—he’s been busy in the morning, he hadn’t wanted to intrude later—was that really so hard? He could have been considerate for once.

The phone buzzed again. Katsuki hesitated—then turned the screen back on.

All Might [6:03 AM]

I wanted to apologize for not believing you sooner. I know I wasn’t quite in my right mind, and I think you knew that, but I’m sure that didn’t make it any easier for you.

All Might [6:03 AM]

You have my trust.

Katsuki looked away, over and down at the dazzling water below him. The breeze blew over it, across the grass—sharp and chill, but not cold.

His phone buzzed again, and he dropped it, startled. It cracked against the pavement.

Crouching down beside it, Katsuki set one finger on its edge, flipped it up and over, like he was turning something hot in a pan. It was just the top corner that was cracked.

All Might [6:04 AM]

Since you’ll also be on leave for a little while, feel free to come up and visit, if you’d like. I’d offer to come over myself, if I thought Recovery Girl would let me that far out of her sight.

All Might [6:05 AM]

Please don’t feel pressured though. You should rest however you need to. You’ve done very well.

Katsuki sat back on his heels, hand still hovering over the phone. There was something swelling up inside him that he didn’t want to examine, didn’t want to let up and out over his face. Behind him, back in one of the trees that lined the road, a bird started singing. It was truly morning now.

Stone faced, Katsuki stalked across the living room and stopped directly in front of the TV.

“Kacchan!” Deku yelled. Then he reached across the couch for a pillow and flung it up at Katsuki’s face, hard.

Katsuki caught it and threw it down on the ground between them. “Why did All Might just tell me I was taking leave?” he demanded, voice horse. He hoped it sounded like he was just that ticked off, and not like he’d been crying.

“If I have to then you do too!” Deku said, pointing at him in accusation. “Now get out of the way!”

“It’s All Might VS the League of Super Evil,” Katsuki shot back, “You’ve seen it fifty million times!”

“Todoroki hasn’t!” Deku insisted, moving his arm to point across the couch.

Todoroki looked up at them, eyes baleful. “I’ve lived a deprived life.”

Without looking away, Katsuki reached back and hit pause on the DVD player. Checkmate, Deku.

Deku reached forward across the coffee table—past the bowls of rice dyed in bright primary colors—and his hand landed on the remote.

“Do not!” Katsuki shouted.

“You’re going to wake up our neighbors,” Deku whispered, like he hadn’t just been yelling too, like he hadn’t been blasting the opening sequence of his show at five forty five if the scene they were on now was anything to go off of. “Anyway, you should calm down. Breaks are important.”

“I was already taking leave,” Katsuki insisted, a little quieter, “Because I do understand the importance of breaks. Unlike some people.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?” Deku exclaimed, throwing up his hands. The remote dropped behind the couch.

“All Might knew my plans before I told him,” Katsuki said, crossing his arms. “You tattled.”

Deku huffed, and then he sat up a little straighter, reached over the couch to grab the remote with blackwhip. “Okay Kacchan,” he said over his shoulder, “Sorry that All Might called and so I told him about my life and the people who live in my house. Sorry that I must have said something that let him figure out about your super secret industry standard vacation.”

Katsuki set off the explosions building in his hands—more to keep them from growing too powerful than anything else—and then he stalked back to his bedroom. He could tell that he was being a little petty, but he was too worked up to care yet. Something in those texts had scraped him raw, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

When he tried to slam the door, Todoroki caught it. Before Katsuki could react, Todoroki had stepped into his room and shut the door behind him.

“Go away,” Katsuki said.

“You planned to take leave,” Todoroki said, “Did you turn in the right paperwork already?”

Katsuki wanted to punch him, but he’d actually be sorry about that later, so instead he grabbed the closest thing—a book on his desk—and threw it.

Todoroki caught it in one hand.

“Of course I did,” Katsuki said, “Do I look incompetent to you?”

“So it’s probably listed on Hero Network,” Todoroki said, stepping forward to place the book back on the desk. “All Might could have looked it up himself.”

“Why?” Katsuki said.

He had meant it to totally demolish Todoroki’s argument, but Todoroki just raised an eyebrow. “To check on you,” he said, “He texted me earlier too.”

“Because you were with Deku,” Katsuki said.

Todoroki looked at him, in that incredibly obnoxious blank way that meant he could be thinking something, but wasn’t planning to let it show in his expression. “Eri is special to Aizawa Sensei,” he said, “She’s like his daughter. But I don’t think he stopped caring for me when she arrived.”

Katsuki couldn’t think of anything to say to that—probably because he was too mad at Todoroki for being in his room when he had specifically told him to get out.

Todoroki turned to leave, pulled the door open and stopped. “We thought you’d get back sooner,” he said, “The red rice is spicy.” Then he left the room, pushing the door so it swung open.

Katsuki stood there for a second, fuming. Then he stepped forward to close the door and found himself walking all the way back into the living room. Before he could get stuck standing awkwardly, he sat down against the edge of the couch, reached over and grabbed the nearest bowl. There were already chopsticks set across the top.

“Todoroki,” Deku said, scrambling for the remote, “Is it okay if we go back and watch the fight scene where All Might saves the kids?"

"Sure," Todoroki said, sounding way too smug.

Katsuki already had his mouth full, so he decided to let it slide.

The blinds were pulled down, angled so that no matter where he stood, Katsuki couldn't see through them. For a moment, he considered blasting up to the third floor, trying to peer in through the slats in that half second before gravity caught up and his stomach flipped. But the door hadn't opened when he rapped on it, and he hadn't heard anyone moving around in there from the hall, so at this point All Might must either have gone somewhere or fallen asleep. Katsuki wasn't about to chance waking him up with an explosion.

Still unwilling to give up, Katsuki backed up a little, holding his hand over his eyes to help with the glare. Yuuei was full of metal and glass buildings, set high on a hill, and the sun reflected bright off of everything, stacking the colors up and turning them white again.

"Kacchan!" someone called, too shrill to be Deku as he was now.

Startled, Katsuki looked around, half expecting that he'd stepped back into the past again, that this was a different kind of dream.

"Kacchan!" Eri called again, hair bouncing as she ran. She came up beside him, breathing hard, and tugged on his arm. "Come get my kite for me."

"That's not how you ask," Katsuki said, pulse steadying, because the Hag had told him once that he'd be terrible with kids, and she was about to be dead wrong.

Eri's forehead wrinkled up in confusion, and then her eyes widened in understanding. She took a step back and set her hands on her hips. "You know—I hear getting kites down from trees is very hard."

"What?" Katsuki said, "No it's not. Who told you that?"

"I mean I bet Deku could do it better, because he can fly," Eri said, totally ignoring the question.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Katsuki insisted, "I could fly first."

Eri giggled, grabbing his arm again to tug him forward. "Come prove it."

That was when Katsuki realized he'd been played. "You text Deku too much," he told her, already letting her lead him around the building.

"It's called friendship," Eri said, and then she dropped his arm, pointed up at a tree a little ways ahead. "Don't break anything," she instructed.

One of the difficulties of Katsuki’s quirk was that it was hard to grab things while he was in the air. Most of his planning around that problem involved getting people out of places they shouldn’t be. A kite was way flimsier than a civilian, easier to crush. So before he did anything else, Katsuki flew up beside the tree to examine the situation. Hovering was hard too, but Katsuki was practiced enough to be good at it.

“Deku would have finished by now!” Eri called up after him.

Without thinking, Katsuki kicked the bottom of the kite, dislodging it, and it dropped. For a terrible second he thought it was going to shatter against the ground, and then it bounced, still intact. By the time he landed, Eri was already running over to pick it up, but Katsuki grabbed it first, held it out of her reach to examine it. Nothing seemed to have been broken by the fall.

“Give it back!” Eri insisted, tugging at the string.

“Where’s the spool?” Katsuki asked, handing back the kite before he remembered to make Eri ask politely.

Eri looked back and forth, hair swishing with the motion, and then pointed.

Stepping over, Katsuki bent and picked the spool up. Then he began rewinding the string, untangling it as he went.

“Did you come to see Deku?” Eri asked.

“He lives at my house,” Katsuki said, “Not here.”

“He was here earlier,” Eri said, pointing back to the teacher’s apartment complex, “He and Mister Yagi came to ask my Dad for shopping advice.”

Katsuki had the sudden horrible image of an outfit combining Deku, All Might, and Aizawa Sensei’s senses of fashion, and realized it might have been a mercy that his train had come late.

Suddenly, Eri dropped the kite and took off running. “Deku!” she shouted, waving her arm.

Deku was still walking back from the parking lot—too far to talk to without yelling. All Might followed behind him, carrying shopping bags. Deku didn’t seem to have any, but he was carrying a crate. When he saw Eri, he crouched and set it down, then held his arms open. She crashed into his embrace.

The string caught. Katsuki looked back down and saw that he’d wound right into a gnarl. He’d need to unwind a bit to get the loops to loosen.

Eri shrieked in delight, and Katsuki’s head jerked back up. Deku had opened some kind of hatch door on the side of the crate and now—walking out on the grass in front of them—there was a white cat.

Katsuki stared. Then he realized that his hands had stopped moving.

Ahead of him, Eri reached down to pet the cat. It stepped away—she stepped closer—and then the cat took off. Deku jumped up in response and then just kind of stood there, watching it leave, probably trying to decide if using his quirk would make things better or worse. All Might was laughing—not loudly, but his voice was resonant enough that Katsuki could hear it even from here.

Katsuki crouched down. The cat was running in his direction, but it didn’t seem to have noticed him yet. He held his breath, waited until it got close, and then he yanked his end of the string. It tensed, staring down at the kite that had just jerked beside it. Then it turned away and shot up the tree.

Eri took off running again, back toward the apartment building.

“Kacchan!” Deku yelled, holding his hand up to shade his eyes, “You’re here? Wait—Eri! Where are you going?”

She paused at the side door, held it open long enough to call back, “We need a cat expert!” Then she stepped inside and slammed the door.

“Don’t wake him up!” Deku insisted, running after her. He caught up to the door and pulled it open again. “Eri?” he called. Then, when she didn’t respond, he darted inside after her.

Katsuki scoffed. What did Deku know about cats anyway? Has he even asked Todoroki if he could bring a pet back to the apartment? He sure hadn’t asked Katsuki about it—though that wasn’t gonna be a problem. If anything, it would be easier to make Deku go home and rest if he could use the cat to guilt him into it.

“I didn’t realize you were coming, or I would have told you where we’d gone,” All Might said, setting his bags down at the base of the tree. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“What happened to the cat?” Katsuki said.

“I think Eri may have startled it,” All Might said, smiling.

“No,” Katsuki said. He stood up, saw the spool in his hand, and tossed it down onto the grass. “The one in the dreamscape.”

All Might’s eyes narrowed, suddenly focused. “I didn’t know there was a cat there.”

“It was before you ran into us,” Katsuki said, shoving his hands in his pockets. The real cat had found a wide branch to stand on—he could just make out its shape through the leaves.

“Something happened to it?” All Might asked.

Katsuki shrugged, still staring up at the tree. “Deku won’t tell me.” And really, that was answer enough.

“I’ve been reading up on the case files,” All Might said, “You played Mogami brilliantly.”

Katsuki looked down at him, which was a mistake. There was something so absurdly sincere in All Might’s expression—it made him want to run away and find his own tree to hide in.

All Might sighed—not audibly, but you could tell by the way his shoulders shifted. “I just wish I could have been there at the end, when it counted.”

Katsuki felt his face twisting up, but he remembered who he was talking to before he blurted out anything stupid. It just caught him by surprise—for as long as he could remember, All Might had been solidified in his mind as the guy who always won, no matter what—and Deku was the snot nosed kid on the playground who had lost ten minutes ago and was still fighting for some reason. So sometimes, even though he knew better now, he forgot that they were basically the same person.

“You were there,” Katsuki said, finally gathering himself, “It was—reassuring, to me—that you were there for him.”

The door burst open. Katsuki spun and saw Eri running out, Deku stopping to hold the door, and Aizawa Sensei—cane in one hand and sleeping bag in the other, creeping out over the threshold like the sun had done something to personally offend him.

“Ah, Aizawa!” All Might said, “Glad you could join us!”

Aizawa Sensei stepped forward, only acknowledging the greeting by shoving his sleeping bag in All Might’s general direction, letting it drop into his hands. When he reached the tree he took a second to size it up. Then he threw his scarf over a branch and began to climb, motions surprisingly fluid for someone who probably hadn’t been awake ten minutes ago.

“Get off,” Eri demanded.

Katsuki looked around—then down, and realized he was standing on the kite string.

“Get off please!” Aizawa Sensei said, voice coming from some indeterminate point behind the foliage. Then he dropped, catching himself just enough on a lower branch to slow his fall. In his other arm he cradled the cat.

“Thanks,” Deku said, sounding mortified.

“I’m putting her in Yagi’s apartment,” Aizawa Sensei said, walking back toward the door, “Midoriya—don’t take your cat outside without a leash.”

“Yes Sensei,” Midoriya said, reaching to grab the bags All Might had set down.

“Please,” Eri said, pushing Katsuki’s shin.

Katsuki stepped back, grinning.

All Might set down the thermos and the cups on the coffee table, then sat on the couch across from them. The gap between the cushion and the table's edge was barely big enough—his knees knocked against the table's edge.

Instinctively, Deku leaned forward in his chair—then he remembered that the cat had fallen asleep in his lap, and he sat back again. He’d been stuck in that spot for a good twenty minutes now.

Katsuki reached forward instead, unstacking the cups and lining them up on the table. He had never considered himself a cat person, but he was really coming around on the benefits of pet ownership.

“What will you name her?” All Might asked, pouring tea into the cups.

Deku smiled, stroking the cat’s fur. “I think, probably Ne—“

“No,” Katsuki interrupted.

“Kacchan, I can name my own pet,” Deku said.

“You wouldn’t know a good pet name if it fell on you,” Katsuki said, “At least go with Second Neko or something.”

“She’s my first cat,” Deku said, shifting in his seat. Then the cat twitched, and he went rigid, afraid of waking her. “Anyway—your name was pretty bad too.”

“Hah?” Katsuki blurted, sitting up straight, “It was not!”

“Please,” All Might said, handing cups of tea to each of them, “You can let Young Todoroki decide between you.”

Because it was All Might, Katsuki took the cup and dropped the subject, even though his name had been obviously way cooler.

“This is nice,” Deku said, holding his cup in both hands, “I’m really glad—just to be here with you guys. Like we used to.”

Katsuki scowled, slouching in his chair. If Deku wanted to be sappy, then that was probably his right, after everything, but it didn’t mean Katsuki had to be happy about it.

All Might smiled, pulling the last cup across the table to rest in front of him. Then he said, “I thought I must have died.”

“Because of the prophecy?” Deku asked. Nowadays, he was almost as good at tracking with All Might's thoughts as he was at tracking Katsuki's.

“At first I thought it was proof that Young Bakugou was wrong,” All Might said, nodding slowly, “But then—you said you’d seen my master.”

Deku’s eyes widened. “Oh—because if One for All let her appear in the dreamscape after death—“

“I didn’t think about that,” Katsuki said, turning his cup around and around in his hands, “Should have thought about how that would sound.”

“Don’t trouble yourself,” All Might said, “I can think of nothing that would have persuaded me of the truth. I only mention it because—the thought made me unhappy.”

“All Might,” Deku started, glancing quickly at Katsuki in a way he probably didn’t think was condescending.

All Might took a sip of his tea, set the cup back on the table and shook his head. “You have to understand—when I first heard the prediction, I accepted it right away. It seemed to me that my finish line was near, that soon I would be able to rest. So I should have been glad to discover that my task was complete—but to my surprise, it was—disappointing.”

Katsuki stared down into his cup, watching the way the light caught against the surface. He tilted it back and forth, ever so slightly, and the sparkle shifted, sliding along the edge like a headlight seen from far away.

“So I wanted to thank you,” All Might continued, voice broad and steady, “Both of you, for reminding me that I wanted to live.”

“Don’t mention it,” Katsuki said, automatically. He didn’t know what he’d do if All Might ever came up and said something like this when he wasn’t prepared to hear it, but there was a solid chance he’d make a complete fool of himself.

All Might chuckled softly. Then he reached behind him, grabbed the tissue box sitting on the side table and held it out to Deku. His arm was long enough to stretch all the way over the table, but Deku still couldn’t quite take it without dislodging the cat.

“Blackwhip,” Katsuki said.

“Oh,” Deku said, sniffling. Then a tendril extended from his finger and snatched the box.

“You better not have forgotten how your whole quirk works,” Katsuki said, “I’m not gonna wait for you to catch up to me again.”

Deku laughed in that sort of choked way that meant he might start sobbing any second. The cup in his other hand nearly tipped over, but he noticed, righted it, and set it down on the side table between the chairs.

“I’m sure the two of you will have plenty of time to train before you return to your work,” All Might said, looking bemused.

Katsuki crossed his arms, setting his cup in the crook of his elbow. “Don’t lump me in with him.“

“You don’t—want to?” Deku said, voice all wobbly.

“Didn’t say that,” Katsuki said, hedged into a corner. There were some things he cared about more about saving than face. “If you want—then we can train, or whatever.”