Archive of Our Own

The steady beep of a monitor near his vicinity kept Katsuki wide awake.

Almost serving as a clock of some sort. Ticking away silently, counting the amount of heartbeats he's been staring at the darkened ceiling above him, one eye slightly squished above the wrapping that surrounded his head. The texture of the ceiling meshed together into a blur of pure, gray nothingness, like an optical illusion that dulled his vision and prickled gently at his optical nerves, begging for Katsuki to snap out of his zoned-out state. But nothing was going to stop the blonde man from... pondering.

The thoughts that poured into his mind consumed his brain from the inside out, silent and deadly, slowly poisoning his sleeping schedule and seeping into his mental state like a fog. He couldn't even remember what day it was, couldn't answer the nurses that would pester him silently for answers about his severely injured arm. The best way to describe his state would be the title of a walking corpse, an undying hero that lost his spark and just... existed.

Existed in the quiet hospital room, the beeping of his monitor keeping him wide awake.

Though, that was not the only reason for his restlessness. The guilt that gnawed at his insides and clutched at his heart that was far too busted up to handle such heavy pain was the actual explanation for his current state— all he could hear was the rewinding of a recent conversation he had with someone, someone he couldn't even fathom to be the deliverer of such devastating news.

"Does that mean you'll be... quirkless?"

"Yeah, but... I was already quirkless to begin with."

Visions of saddened emerald eyes resurfaced in his mind, the sight of obvious disappointment and silent longing for his dream being quickly shoved aside and concealed with a dull smile only making Katsuki grimace with agony at the memory. It was unbearable to watch the world's greatest hero, one who aspired to be like All Might and followed in his footsteps for more than a decade, get the only thing he's wanted all his life... snatched away. Stolen, forgotten, as if the reality of the dream was never real to begin with, only funded by delusions of a dorky nerd and bundles of torn notebooks. 

"Then, I'll go even higher!"

The blurry vision of scratched chubby cheeks and determined round eyes overtook his memory lane. He could recall that night as clear as day — despite how contradictory that is — the thrill and adrenaline rushing through him as they sparred, all the built up emotions he's been letting out through sparkling explosions, trying and failing to relieve that guilt the only way he knew how. By fighting.

But when that didn't work, when he collapsed onto the ground out of fury and exhaustion, Izuku rushed over to him to lend him a hand, worried for his reckless behavior and concerning mental state. And that was when Katsuki shattered, when he slapped the hand he's been reaching for all his life, and when he broke down desperately in front of the nerd, the regret and shame for destroying All Might's career rushing out in waves, his words shaky and wobbly as he wept and cried into the chilly dusk air, choking up on the ruthless regret clawing out of his esophagus.

And... Izuku was the only one who understood. The only one who could understand such a complicated man.

"Izuku... I won't get in your way anymore."

"Izuku... Do your best."

"Don't you let me surpass you, Izuku!"

More thoughts of a curly haired, wide eyed idiot resurfaced once again, painting the dark ceiling with wonderful colours and shades of green, only green. Because who else did Katsuki even have his eyes on? Nobody else. Nobody else moved him and changed him like Izuku, in the way tidal waves crash and hurdle against the sandy shore and rearrange the molecules of rocks, debris and everything in between. Nobody else could break through his harsh, brute barrier and sneak into his heart like Izuku, melting into him like honey, golden, soft and effortlessly sweet. Nobody else could break their bones over and over again, trying to achieve the dream they had to obtain on their own, and still not even be a little selfish. 

All Izuku did was give, save, help, and try. Over and over again, until he could no longer carry things on his own, or handle the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And right now, as Katsuki lay bedridden, only a thin wall seperating him and the boy he wanted to stay close to for the rest of his life... Katsuki made a decision.

Lifting his upper body carefully, Katsuki made sure not to lean on his paralysed arm too much as he sat up on the mattress, a pained grunt escaping his lungs in the process. He twisted his torso, swinging his legs off the bed before he took a deep breath, stuffing both of his feet into the slippers that sat by the cool leg of the bed.

Katsuki needed to make sure he was careful while trying to stand up: no sudden movement, no running, and immediately sit down when dizzy. The words of a particularly older nurse echoed through his head as he pressed his hand against the counter top and, slowly, stood up.

For a moment, his vision went fuzzy as his ruby eyes tried to adjust to the dark, but soon, he was slowly dragging his feet against the cool aquamarine tiles below him, an uninjured hand caressing the pristine wall by his side, as if guiding him towards the hospital room which he was headed to. Slowly but surely, Katsuki made his way to Izuku's hospital room, his palm quivering inside the plastic indent that served as a doorknob for the sliding door. 

Until, he inhaled sharply and pushed the barrier to the side, causing the wheels to whirr and slide against the floor. A familiar scent of sterile sheets and a particular sting of clean supplies crept into his nose as he took in the room before him. He recognised that smell immediately, especially after months of visiting hospital units like this one, and it evoked some sort of anticipatory stress— the kind that he recalled from previous gnarly injuries and health checkups. With the paper-thin curtains pushed to the side and swaying in the quiet winds of the night, he could clearly see the teal sheets that sat untouched over a laying figure lit up by the moonlight, much to his alleviation. And as his eyes followed the movement of someone shifting and stirring on the bed, he finally locked eyes with the only person he never wanted to stop gazing at.

"Kacchan?" Izuku called out from the bed, voice hushed and weak from being awoken so suddenly. Jade eyes blinked in surprise— or relief— his longing stare glistening with countess stars reflecting in his pupils, clearly puzzled by his appearance.

And as soon as he started counting those stellar objects swirling in Izuku's eyes, he snapped out of his daze, only a tired sigh leaving his chapped lips. "Hi, 'Zuku."

Still blinking in shock, Izuku finally sat up on the mattress, a little confused by Katsuki's sudden arrival. He obviously expected Katsuki to be sound asleep by now— Katsuki figured as he watched the nerd's gaze flicker from the digital clock on his night stand back to the blonde man. But as he took a good look at Katsuki, it became obvious as to why he came here in the first place. A silent understanding lingered in the words he muttered next, unable to stop his endless curiosity from wanting to hear the answer come out from Katsuki himself.

"W—What are you doing here?"

Katsuki let go of the door hesitantly, unsure if Izuku really wanted him to stay, considering how late it really was. But he hoped his reason would be convincing enough. "Couldn't sleep."

... Very convincing...

Scowling with a sympathetic frown, Izuku's eyes glimmered with wanting more— because after all, a simple night of twisting and turning in your bed wouldn't make Katsuki desperate for company. The reason definitely ran deeper than Katsuki wanted it to, and it settled in his bones and clenched at his throat until his body moved on its own, until his legs carried him all the way over here, in front of Izuku.

Fiddling with the covers, Izuku stared at Katsuki's bandaged limbs and spoke up suddenly, his worry getting the best of him, just like always. "H-How are you?"

So selfless, like always. 

The thought of Izuku, without a quirk— without a passion he worked for his entire life, asking Katsuki that question made something hot and unbearable rise in his throat, his fingers curling into a weak fist. Because this boy, who sacrificed so much to save and protect those who he adored, who was ready to give away his purpose— his dream— was staring him right in the face with that pitiful, puppy-eyed look. As if Katsuki suffered more than him, or something. And Katsuki felt fucking ashamed.

Ashamed, for letting this go on as long as it did. For letting Izuku destroy and mangle his body in ways beyond comprehension. For letting Izuku try and try, every single day, to develop and shape that quirk all on his own, because despite everybody else willing to help Izuku achieve his dream, he would still push them away and pretend everything's fine. He would still be selfless and sacrificial, like when he left UA to protect those who he cared for, and by staying far away from those he didn't want to endanger, in turn suffering underneath the weight on his shoulders.

The weight of the world on his shoulders.

What an idiotic, self-sacrificing nerd.

Katsuki huffed, finally gritting out. "I'm fine. Scoot over."

Just as expected, Izuku's eyes went wider, body stiffening beneath the sheets. "What?"

"Move a little. Are you deaf?" Struggling to take a step without limping, Katsuki moved slowly towards Izuku with cautious footsteps, the numbness in his lower body proving just how much rest he actually craved. "I wanna lay down."

"O—Oh, okay." Izuku stammered through cracked lips as he shifted to the side, the metallic creaking of the hospital bed breaking the silent ambience of the room. And Katsuki finally dragged himself over to Izuku, the cheap slippers on his feet silently shuffling against the ground.

He seated himself on the mattress right by the other boy, avoiding Izuku's curious gaze by ducking his head, suddenly feeling oddly stiff and quiet. There wasn't anything to talk about right now— especially considering how much they both understood what had happened between them. Loss, exhaustion, helplessness. All of those residual emotions played on loop inside their obscure, chaotic minds after the Final War, both unable to decipher and untangle how they truly needed to feel, how they needed to carry on after such a horrifying, daunting experience, how two messy teenagers needed to move on with their lives and keep saving those around them.

Like nothing had happened.

Katsuki finally settled next to Izuku and stopped squirming uncomfortably, his dull vermillion gaze shifting over to his left, catching a glimpse of Izuku's body. Enough time had passed since the incident with the embers, meaning Izuku's arms have finally been freed from their casts— which ultimately caused those injured, crooked fingers to twirl and entangle in a fidgety mess. Izuku was nervous.

Deciding to break the ice first, Katsuki cleared his throat and spoke up, voice way softer than what he was used to. "How are your arms?"

And Izuku seemed to notice the same thing, because his hands stilled, body frozen and muscles tight with pleased surprise. He hummed, moving and curling his scarred fingers to test their flexibility. "They're good. The mobility in my fingers is definitely something I can't control just yet, and the blood flow in my muscles is—"

"I didn't ask for the stats, nerd. Keep the analytical bullshit to yourself." Despite his attitude eroding and crumbling into something tame and humble, he was still the same old Katsuki deep down, ready to throw a snarky remark or a sassy joke to uplift his fragile ego.

"S-Sorry!" Izuku's shoulders rose up, his voice meek and silent as the apology tumbled from his lips. The nerd... wasn't as jumpy as he used to be back then. It was nice to see that Katsuki wasn't the only one who changed amongst his friends. "Yeah, my arms are good! Just gotta get used to my fingers being so numb all the time."

In Katsuki's case, though, he wasn't as lucky as Izuku. He glared down at the thick, hard cast surrounding his dominant arm, his free hand silently twirling a piece of gauze sticking out. "It'll pass in a few days. Just keep grabbing things, or somethin'."

"Yeah." Izuku nodded with a bashful, airy chuckle, still curling his fingers and scrutinising his injured knuckles. Almost absently, he commented, his voice quieter and more intuitive, like he was revealing a secret. "I can't believe I actually got them back... It feels so odd."

Katsuki's brows scrunched up in confusion.

What the fuck does that mean?

He whipped his head to the side, eyes boring a hole through Izuku's side profile as he tried to make sense of what Izuku just said. For a moment, he hesitated, ruby eyes scrutinising Izuku's fond, nostalgic irises that stared down at the scars on his forearms, looking somewhat... grateful. Katsuki narrowed his eyes, pointedly glaring at the boy next to him. "Got what back?"

Humming, Izuku turned to face Katsuki with a perplexed frown, only for his face to drop in horror when he realised why Katsuki didn't know what he was talking about. With big, round eyes, his lips parted in shock, opening and closing silently while he contemplated whether or not to say it out loud. A cold sweat formed on his freckled skin, a shiny bead running down his temple while his stomach churned, and the blondie only further stilled at the sight of Izuku so... petrified.

Katsuki pressed further, clearly spooked by Izuku's behavior, his heart suddenly hammering. "What?"

"Nothing! Nothing, it's just— I forgot you don't—" Izuku stammered as he snapped out of his stunned bewilderment, hands waving around as he shook his head rapidly, the speechless anguish in his gaze apparent. "I-I can't tell you yet. I'm so sorry."

Katsuki's eyes went wider at that, something dangerous swirling in his fiery gaze, a puzzled scowl forming on his sharp features. An uncomfortable feeling of distrust and desperation turned in his stomach, his tone demanding. "The fuck does that mean?"

And in response, Izuku went dead silent, scarred hands frozen mid-air as he breathed quietly, unsure how to word what he was trying to say. Katsuki only got more annoyed and terrified as he waited for Izuku to explain himself, but soon enough, Izuku's hands dropped in his lap in defeat, eyes switching between Katsuki's chest and his ruby gaze. He finally spoke, though judging by the tension in his body, it was clear he loathed having to deliver such a message to Katsuki.

"... Your heart..."

The blonde boy blinked, eyes searching for the rest of the explanation in Izuku's round features. Until eventually, he added.

"Your heart couldn't handle it, Kacchan."

That made Katsuki's eye twitch, heart dropping to his belly. What the fuck? "You underestimatin' me, nerd?!"

"Eh...? N—No!"

Katsuki, now indignant and defensive, snapped back at the squeak, voice raspy and defiant. "Just 'cause I'm a little banged up doesn't mean I'm fuckin' weak. Tell me. Now."

That made Izuku's head shake side to side once again, scarred hands flailing around in fear at revealing the thing he mentioned previously. "I—I don't think you're weak! I'm being serious, Kacchan, you wouldn't handle it..."

"What is it about?" Despite Izuku's nervous protests and frantic attempts to cover up the truth, Katsuki pestered the nerd even further, voice lowering with something deadly and venomous that laced his tone like poison. "Is it something to do with the embers?"

Absolutely horrified, Izuku sputtered, denying the claim with a genuine vulnerability in his voice. At least he was telling the truth this time. "No! No, Kacchan, the embers are fine. I promise, I'll tell you when you—"

"Your body." Katsuki abruptly cut him off, eyes focused with something lethal and vigilant hiding behind the barely composed facade.

At that, Izuku halted, caught off guard. "What...?"

"It's about your body. Did he hurt you?"

And suddenly, Izuku was truly panicking. Because not only did he finally grasp and comprehend how observant and calculated Katsuki was— he also understood how much that applied for topics about Izuku, as well. Sure, during battles and war, where Katsuki had to focus on even the tiniest slip-up of dangerous villains, Izuku knew very well just how owlish and intelligent the explosive hero could get when it came to spotting mistakes and foolish lies. But... Izuku didn't truly realise how good Katsuki was at picking apart Izuku's dumb, anxious barrier. And as his false display crumbled to dust from Katsuki's grim glare alone, he blinked awkwardly, cheeks heating up ridiculously fast because of Katsuki's ability to detect a lie so quick.

"I, uh..."

Katsuki became livid. Within seconds, recollections of blurry imagery, faded faces and a symbol of fear began resurfacing out of the depths of his mind— the cold, slick, bloody depths, buried somewhere within that little corner in his memory that would shiver and thrum back to life during the intimate comfort of rest and sleep— haunting him in the form of dreadful nightmares. An image of Shigaraki, eyes dead, dull and unapologetically merciless suddenly flashed within his field of vision, and before he could help himself, he growled between his teeth, heart hammering against his unhealed, unsteady ribcage.

"What the hell did he do to you?"

Something similar to nostalgic fear darkened in Izuku's round, forest eyes, the wobble in his lip confirming just how deeply affected Izuku was by the tiniest mention of that monster. But the bloodcurdling alarm disappeared from his tight features as Izuku began stammering through another lie. "It— It's not my body, Kacchan! I-I promise, it's— It's just, uh..."

"Don't lie to me, Izuku." He ignored how that name sounded sweeter than melted sugar on his tongue— soft, careful, worrysome.

Izuku flushed, caught red-handed, suddenly fumbling with his hands. "I'm not lying! I'm just, uhm— I—"

And obviously, he picked up on the movement, because the exact second he heard the duvet shuffle and rustle, ruby eyes locked onto Izuku's clammy, strong hands. Clear nails dug into the discoloured skin above his knuckles, rubbing and scratching gently at the gnarled injuries that rest like artwork across his skilled hands. Catching the clear sign of nervousness, he called out the attempt at self-soothing by shifting his gaze to pointedly stare at the nerd.

 "... You're picking at your scars."

"...Huh?"

"You do that shit when you're lying."

In an instant, Izuku's pale cheeks flushed with crimson blood that pooled around his cheekbones, freckles suddenly accentuated by the blush peppering his skin. It was as if he couldn't believe how deeply Katsuki cared for his habits, recognised the bad ones, and remembered them so he could call him out whenever Izuku 'started doing his nerd bullshit again', as Katsuki kindly labeled it.

Spluttering, he failed to deny the allegation, tugging at the thin cloth of his hospital gown to distract himself from peeling his wounds off. "W—What? How did you- I..."

"Or when you're nervous."

"Okay, but..." Izuku huffed in defeat, ducking his head shyly. Again, a correct fact. Izuku really needed to stop those bad habits— or to at least hide them around Katsuki.

"Or both." Katsuki added in a grumble, making Izuku scowl.

"Kacchan!"

Katsuki rolled his eyes, fondness pooling inside his chest, knowing damn well he nailed both of those insinuations. "Whatever it is, you can't hide the truth from me, you dumbass. I know you. I'm not an idiot."

And as much as Katsuki hated to admit it... He truly did know Izuku. Wholeheartedly, from the inside out, the way a puzzle piece recognises the ridges of the other half that fits perfectly into that empty slot. He could count all his mistakes and flaws like the constellation that spread across his chubby cheeks, but could also as easily recall his strongest moments and those earnest, heroic saves and bloodied battles that secured his sacred spot as Japan's "Greatest Hero". Izuku was a humble, selfless, wonderful mess of heroism and determination, the embodiment of a joyous, childlike love for justice, the kind that made you snort with awe at the innocence and confidence, but would still get you to pause when you eventually recognise the hero name on the future headlines.

That same name which Katsuki had used to belittle, punish and bully Izuku into hiding— not to make Izuku scared and jittery, but to bury and conceal the fact that Katsuki was the one who was truly afraid. Afraid of Izuku's endless craving to save, to help, to exist as another Symbol Of Peace which would protect the citizens and guide future heroes like a matchstick in the shadows. Always glowing so bright and proud, bathing everyone with his radiant smiles and earth-shattering punches. And Katsuki hid and avoided that light, because he was fearful that all his wounds, imperfections and fragility would hit that sunny, incandescent spotlight— for everyone to see, notice, and mock.

But oh, how Katsuki wished he would've let the lustrous glow of Izuku's soul wash over his tainted shadows earlier.

"... I know." 

Catching the gentle murmur, Katsuki looked up and snapped out of his train of thought, eyes dancing across the fluffy, velutinous curls framing Izuku's supple cheeks. "Know what?"

"That I can't hide the truth from you. But, I also know that, in the state that you're in, I don't want you to find out just yet." The nerd elaborated shortly, his verdant pupils staring absently at the covers, as if deep in thought. His side profile blocked the view of the moonlight creeping through the curtains, casting a firm glow down the slope of his nose. And, as he breathed out, he finally admitted the reasoning for his constant stalling, tone quieter. "I don't want you to have a panic attack."

Katsuki rolled the inside of his cheek between his fangs, holding back the bark of anger at the concern because... Izuku was right. Fuck, when was Izuku ever wrong about Katsuki? He was practically the definition of an actual nerd— hoarding fun facts about his favourite heroes from various blogs, interviews and popularity charts, writing in his cheap ass notebooks until his wrist ached from the force of his enthusiasm, noting down everything and anything about his friends, family, and All Might.

As well as, well... Katsuki himself.

They knew each other so deeply, read each other's next move so clearly and accurately, felt each other's frustrations and passions and anything in between to the point it was almost terrifying. How Katsuki didn't run away from such a vulnerable, strong connection was beyond him, but... At the same time, why would he? Why would he run away from such a magnetic, genuine relationship that witnessed all his mistakes, flaws and imperfections, instead of just... staying.

Staying to feel the stagnant, constant weight of comfortability. The weight of being known, of being so tethered to somebody so perfect and raw and stupid to the point he couldn't back away from such a soul tie. Izuku and Katsuki were always destined to read each other like an open book, to be from the same book— like two written pages of the same sheet. So contradictory, yet so similar.

So painfully similar.

Basking in the silence of their unspoken bond, Katsuki simply blinked, feeling the heaviness of sleep clinging to his eyelashes and pulling down slowly. But he forced himself to be awake, for Izuku's sake. "... When can you tell me?"

Chewing on his bottom lip, Izuku's hands clenched together again, clearly calculating something inside his head. But quickly enough, he exhaled and admitted shyly, tone unreadable. "I don't know, Kacchan. But I hope soon enough."

That only served to agitate Katsuki even more, a rough exhale escaping his nose. "Hm," He scoffed, attempting to put himself in Izuku's shoes for a brief moment, trying to get an idea as to why Izuku was so keen on not revealing his secret— until he gave up shortly after, realising he could never even fathom the weight of Izuku's overwhelming thoughts swimming in his brain. He sighed patiently, deciding it wasn't worth it to press further. "Alright."

Something that was no longer the same about Katsuki after the Final War was his overwhelming narcissism. Sure— the sarcastic comments and prideful remarks lingered here and there, but it would be wrong not to notice how... humble Katsuki had gotten. The boisterous, unapologetic persona that never admitted his faults and fears and would continuously shout that he was "the damn best" had quieted into something tame, something bearable. He could finally comprehend Izuku's true heroism and never-ending, obedient sense of consistency and trial, could finally deem Izuku as someone worthy, someone so blindingly heroic and courageous and infinitely audacious that it would be foolish to even attempt to surpass such glorious strength.

And with that humility also came patience. 

Like the silent understanding for Izuku's nervous, distressed attempts at hiding that secret (and Katsuki quietly seethed at that anyway, because what the fuck was Izuku trying to hide? Victoria's Secret?) because despite the composed annoyance, Katsuki could finally cut Izuku some slack. No more impatient hollering, no more furious grumbling, eye twitching and desperate nagging— though Katsuki would argue it was due to his bedridden state. He let the serenity of their silence linger, the irritation in his chest slowly melting away with the hush of the midnight winds creeping through Izuku's open window that swirled around and carried away his poisonous exasperation.

Noticing Katsuki's calm, controlled pout, Izuku hesitantly turned his head towards the blondie and met his softened gaze, changing the topic. "Speaking of... How's your heart, Kacchan?"

Katsuki paused and blinked at Izuku, taken aback by the question. For a moment, those ruby eyes lowered as he tilted his head to glance at his chest— wounded and painful, but wrapped in secure bandages — before he snapped his eyes at Izuku, the question in his pupils blatantly obvious. And then, Izuku began stammering his life away, his fingers intertwining nervously.

"I—I know you'll have to take it easy, y'know... No straining yourself, no heavy tasks, no physical training, so... I'm just wondering how you're dealing with it, I guess."

Katsuki's heart sang alongside the tune of Izuku's painfully familiar gentleness and selfless care, immediately recognising the desperate attempt at changing the topic of their conversation to head into the direction of Katsuki's wellbeing— something Izuku knew how to do since he was a chubby little kid. With a pout adoring his striking features, Katsuki's eyes lingered on the cast wrapped around his numb, injured arm, ruby irises mindlessly sweeping over the bold letters scribbled across the pristine sheets of thick bandages: they were all variations of "GET WELL SOON, BRO!", "wish you a quick recovery!" and other similar kind words that Katsuki would usually scoff at.

But not... Not this time.

At least, not anymore.

"It's... weird."

Bakugou blurted out mindlessly, voice hollow and thoughtful, eyes downcast as he traced the rough ridges and round corners of the cast in his field of vision. He attempted to curl his callused fingers, only to give up shortly after, dejected by the persistent tingling sensation in his fingers whenever he tried to even move them a single inch. It would take much longer for the feeling in his arm to come back, after all, as Recovery Girl endlessly reminded him each day, almost as if Katsuki was too stubborn to listen to her.

Well... It's not like he's not stubborn.

But... She no longer needed to keep up such a stern, uptight facade to talk and persuade the blonde hero anymore. Nobody did. Katsuki's wall of unending frustration and uncontrollable sense of superiority and carelessness for those who he cared for was no longer standing tall. It crumbled and died alongside him at that battlefield, forgotten amidst the rubble, pebbles and dried blood that coated that cursed landscape weeks ago, destined to never rise to protect and shelter Katsuki's fragile heart no more.

 After all, his heart never needed protection in the first place.

It needed acceptance. Trust. Company and the connection that tied you together to the most selfless, heroic, annoying hero in the entire world, that stood by your side despite your differences and the diversity that divided your uniqueness from that hero, because even though you may have differences, there are still similarities.

There are still similar goals.

To save.

And to win.

The essence of being a hero.

"I'll probably be like this for a while." Katsuki suddenly realised as he snapped out of his daze, casting Izuku a sidelong glance with his ruby eyes before elaborating further. "All calm and timid like some mysterious creep. I also won't be yelling and bitchin' around over the smallest thing... But, it's not as horrible as I thought it would be."

Izuku simply stared back, wistful and focused. Something about his intense jade eyes made Katsuki's breath catch in his throat, unable to tear his gaze away from Izuku's analytical expression. Izuku could make such funny faces sometimes, Katsuki tried to convince himself, ignoring that the reason for his sudden staring was not due to mockery and amusement, but rather amazement and... Endearment.

Fucking hell! Endearment?!

Finally, Izuku mumbled. "Really?"

The word shattered Katsuki's kaleidoscope of emotions that swirled and rotated in his weak chest, pumping flashes of colours and vibrant imagery of nothing but pure, unfiltered awe straight into his memory lane. Katsuki broke out of the spell, shaking his head—and also silently praying that Izuku wouldn't take that gesture as a sign that Katsuki's schizophrenic or something— trying his best to ignore the odd bodily reaction to Izuku's gaze. He answered Izuku's question after a brief pause.

"... I can't remember the last time I felt so peaceful and... humble, honestly." Katsuki struggled to find the words, his raspy voice filling the silence between them, emphasising the closeness, the atmosphere, everything in between the two of them and beyond. He flushed, suddenly feeling awkward as he noticed Izuku in his peripheral vision, who was still looking at his side profile. He continued. "'S fucking weird."

Finally gaining the confidence to look his way, Katsuki shifted his gaze to scan Izuku's expression, suddenly realising that Izuku was being... oddly quiet. As if he was trying to study Katsuki closely, to glare daggers into his eyes until the protective layers over Katsuki's soul fell apart and revealed the raw, naked base of his heart, hiding within. He blinked, shoulders tense and unmoving, as he watched Izuku's concentrated expression melt away into a wistful smile, meek and strangely comforting.

"I'm glad, Kacchan. Really."

The benevolent, silky tone of voice caught Katsuki off guard, eye twitching at the vulnerability in Izuku's gaze. He felt so seen, so barren and exposed underneath the gaze of those jade eyes that he couldn't help the way his heart began pounding against his marred chest. What was happening to him? It's not like he's never made eye contact with anyone before— Katsuki was a confident man who could probably stare back at the Grip Reaper himself and not even break a sweat. 

But... something felt different this time.

Something was different this time.

As he sucked the air through his teeth, he drew his shoulders up to his ears defensively, squinting ferociously at the freckled face of the nerd that sat next to him.

"Jesus, can you—" Bakugou stammered, the heartbeat in his ears becoming rowdier and more unbearable with each second he spent staring back into those emerald pupils. "Would you stop gaping at me with those wide eyes already? You're making me feel all squeamish and weird, nerd."

Izuku paused at that, confused by Katsuki's defensive behaviour, before suddenly, his smile began to tremble. Slowly, his bottom lip quivered, the glimmer in his jade eyes becoming suspiciously glossy, before his resolve broke apart. Katsuki's stomach suddenly dropped as a sniffle escaped Izuku's nose, his body wrecked by uncomfortable shivers.

Oh, God... Please don't fucking cry.

Katsuki glared back as Izuku began to cry, a choked up noise latching inside Izuku's throat as those freckle-dusted cheeks began to heat up with the determination to hold back his sobs. And while Izuku rubbed his nose nervously, his eyes only got more damp and watery, thin brows drawn together into a pathetic expression that Katsuki couldn't help but want to wipe right off his chubby face. The blonde boy stayed silent, though, waiting for a response in pure, unfiltered shock, before finally, Izuku whined.

"I'm— You probably think I'm so dumb for crying again, but— I'm so glad you're okay, Kacchan. I don't know what I would do if... if you weren't..."

Izuku couldn't even finish his sentence.

He didn't have to.

Despite the thorns and needles stuck in his throat right now due to his lack of interest in sentimental conversations, something inside of him softened at that revelation. Izuku was revealing something personal, confessing something vulnerable— and knowing that Izuku had struggled with expressing his grief, regret and torment that followed him after the Final War, Katsuki knew that this was... a good thing.

A wonderful thing, in fact.

He couldn't help but finally feel... relieved. After months and months of constantly worrying and keeping track of Izuku's bad habits and horrible tendencies to be so selfless and clueless about his personal boundaries, it was finally time for Izuku to feel comfortable enough to share his pain and not feel like he's causing more hurt by doing so. And no matter how terrifying it was to hear somebody like Izuku struggling to keep his composure and trying his hardest to quiet down his weeps, Katsuki found it a luxury to witness this side of Izuku.

A luxury, to be the only one to see Izuku fall apart.

Because Katsuki was the only one who could truly put him back together, after all.

Feeling his own heart melting at Izuku's glistening tears, he scoffed, tone tender and gruff as he tried to avoid the need to ruffle those curls and pinch his tear-stained face. Keyword: tried.

"Shut the fuck up. Yes, you're a dumbass."

Surprised by the blunt sentence, Izuku's bawling paused as his sob lodged in his throat, wide forest eyes staring back at Katsuki's flustered expression. Amused by the momentary stop in his own cries, Izuku huffed out a shocked laugh and hiccuped, scarred fingers reaching up to wipe the tears staining his cheeks. "I— You're supposed to comfort me!"

"You're sobbing like you're mourning me again or some shit. Stop that."

And just like that, Izuku gasped, offended, his tears returning in an instant as he squeaked sadly. His face contorted into a frown, brows twitching into the imitation of a scowl that would've made Katsuki snicker in any other context. Izuku whimpered. "D-Don't say that!"

At that, the blonde boy paused once again, the glimmer of unshed tears and unsaid stories in Izuku's eyes captivating him so strongly that he simply stopped trying to break out of that spell. Because now, Katsuki was nothing but frightened prey in a warm embrace, soothed and loved forevermore — or an obedient hound entranced by its own tail, following it endlessly, around and around. And the tail was Izuku himself, teetering on the edge of being behind Katsuki yet somehow also being ahead of him, so close to the merciless jaws that reek of pride. And just as Katsuki is about to catch up to his own tail, the appendage would swivel out of the way gracefully, ensuring the blonde man would forever stay inside the circle of repetitiveness he himself created.

An endless loop.

Captivating.

The urge bubbled up inside Katsuki's throat, merciless and desperate, hands itching and fidgeting as he tried to hold back the need that filled his thoughts and clouded his brain.

The need to touch, to caress, to hold Izuku— just to keep Izuku as close as physically possible, at least for one night. A stationary, stagnant atmosphere, with nothing to chase, nothing to win and nobody to save, with Izuku in the safety of his grasp— that's all that Katsuki's asking for right now. No more running from himself, no more chasing after a blip of green on the battlefield, no more chaos and anguish and pain, pain, pain. Just for one single night.

And so, Katsuki squirmed closer to the nerd, albeit awkwardly at first, before he spread the uninjured arm in Izuku's direction and repetitively curled his fingers towards himself, silently inviting Izuku into a hug. The look on Katsuki's face wasn't exactly warm and welcoming— it was shameful and desperate in a way Izuku hasn't seen, but judging by the faithful glint in those weepy eyes as Izuku's whimpers quieted down into a sniffle, it seemed to be working.

Time stood still and motionless as Izuku contemplated Katsuki's body language, the hope in his eyes louder than any human voice on this planet, before finally, the tension split in half once Izuku moved closer. He shuffled, the cheap mattress creaking against the strings underneath with each move, before eventually, Izuku settled a hesitant cheek on Katsuki's chest.

Feeling the blood in his veins run cold, Katsuki exhaled a breath, taken aback by their unusual closeness. He didn't give up and run away, however— instead, he swung his arms around Izuku with a soft grunt and settled deeper into the plush pillow behind him, rough hands feeling the shape of Izuku's muscled form curled up against his own body. It was unusual to be so close to the nerd, but he sucked up his agitation and decided to be selfless for once. Providing Izuku with his grumpy presence and a tight embrace is the least he could do. Katsuki grumbled once Izuku settled down.

"Fine..." The blondie swallowed his pride before continuing. "I'm real glad I'm still standin' somehow, too. Just don't bawl all over my gown."

Izuku, amazed by the somewhat heart-warming tone of voice, simply let out an elated, genuine giggle and sniffed once again, trying to get more comfortable against Katsuki's torso. "I wasn't bawling... Just happy tears..."

"Yeah, well, that frown on your fuckass face wasn't screaming 'cheerful'."

Izuku just exhaled, voice muffled by the bandages on Katsuki's chest. "Sorry..."

Which instantly earned Izuku a soft smack on his head, the verdant curls bouncing around after Katsuki's hand landed on his hair. "Don't apologise!"

"S-Sorry!"

A simple growl was Katsuki's only response, no longer interested in giving Izuku another hit to the head. It was quiet after that, only the sound of their synchronised breathing and sighing filling the silence surrounding them. The sterile scent of the hospital room seemed to get overpowered by the smell of Izuku himself— a hint of a Limited Edition Green Apple All Might shampoo, vanilla body oil, and something uniquely Izuku— in the way the sharp, earthy sting of the first summer shower is easily recognizable, or the comforting aroma of your favourite meal that makes your heart sing with alleviation and comfort. Izuku smelled like home, in a way, which absolutely did not mean anything to Katsuki at all.

The feeling of Izuku's back rising and falling in his field of vision, steady and predictable, gave Katsuki that weird little flutter of security and relief inside his chest, the type of relief he's been looking for ever since he begged and pleaded on that battlefield for Izuku to actually make it out alive. The relief that Izuku is still with him, breathing slowly, in his warm embrace, with his back rising and falling in his field of vision.

Steady and predictable.

Everything about Izuku felt familiar.

Katsuki liked that feeling— familiarity.

The privilege of knowing what comes next.

He needed that privilege during the Final War. Everybody did— everyone needed that little glimmer of hope, the voice that assured all of Japan that the heroes will take care of everything, the hand that finished the gruesome fight yet kindly helped a stranger— and that hope, that voice, that hand — was Izuku. Izuku was a privilege to be around, to have as a leader, a fighter, a friend and a rival. He was a blessing upon this cruel, cold world, meant to guide those who wish to be better, and to change those who couldn't help but be horrible. The true essence of being a hero hid inside Izuku's entire being, quirk or not, and it always amazed Katsuki how Izuku stayed a hero, despite everything.

How Izuku stayed alive, despite everything.

Katsuki was lucky as hell to have Izuku in his arms right now.

What would he do if he lost him on that day?

"... I can feel your heartbeat," Izuku suddenly whispered, snapping Katsuki out of his mushy thoughts and dragging him back into the deadly silence that slowly suffocated him the more he remained quiet. Until, he blinked, a sound of pure bewilderment leaving his lips, which broke the momentary tension in the room.

"Hah?"

He hadn't realised he was getting so heated and overwhelmed by his own thoughts, which in turn elevated his heart rate— enough for Izuku himself to hear very clearly. Katsuki tilted his head slightly, watching as the boy in his arms adjusted his cheek to rest on Katsuki's chest more comfortably, his ear pressed to the left side of his ribcage.

Which definitely did not make his heart pound even faster.

To his horror, Izuku added in awe, completely oblivious to their uncustomary closeness. "It's so loud. That's so cool."

Absolutely mortified by the implication behind those words, Katsuki gave Izuku a flick to the head, ignoring the nervous flutters of something unnamed that bubbled up inside his chest. "Shaddup."

"Oh, wow, it's even faster now. That's so awesome."

"Do you want me to throw you out the closed window?"

"Kacchan!" Izuku cackled, giddy and lively, snuggling closer against Katsuki's warm body to somehow shield himself from Katsuki's empty theat. "At least open it before throwing me out of it... You're so cruel..."

"Hell nah," Katsuki retorted quickly, grinning proudly. "You don't deserve that gentle treatment, asshole. I'll throw you out however I want."

"Kacchaaan..."

"Shut the hell up."

And so he did. That was the end of their little back-and-forth rebuttals, which gave Katsuki some more time to silently bask in the comfort of their current... position. Call it a hug, a friendly-laying-on-each-other-very-intimately position, or straight up cuddling— but whatever it was, Katsuki was enjoying it. Surprisingly. Izuku felt soft, comfortably heavy, and strangely adorable, curled up like some sort of fuzzy pretzel that decided to claim Katsuki's body for itself. 

Speaking of fuzzy— Izuku's hair looked... incredibly fluffy and delicate.

In a way Katsuki hadn't really noticed before. Considering he had never laid down next to Izuku so close before, it wasn't a big surprise. He followed the pattern of Izuku's voluminous curls with his eyes as the nerd breathed deeply, his head ever so slightly rising with each inhale that entered his lungs. It was odd and new to watch Izuku from this angle, their proximity making it easy to see and notice every single detail on his body, with all of his senses. The scent of his shampoo, the shape of his hair follecules, the little freckle on his temple hidden by a stray curl— it was all so positively overwhelming. The itch in his hands started up again, craving and begging for something to hold and cradle, for something to fondle and gently scratch; something like Izuku's jade coloured curls. 

No longer caring about the weird intimacy between them, Katsuki rose his healed hand from Izuku's back and settled his open palm on top of Izuku's hair. Instantly, the warmth of Izuku splayed across the nerves in his fingertips, the frizzy hairs and tender waves on Izuku's head ever so slightly tickling his hand. Katsuki definitely didn't hold his breath as he began to scratch and rub soothing circles into Izuku's scalp, causing the wavey strands of green to rustle and shift due to his movement. 

Izuku didn't react much. A small jolt of surprise was the only thing Katsuki noticed, but it wasn't long before Izuku practically turned into goo, his body melting into Katsuki's chest carelessly, completely unbothered by the wonderful sensation of Katsuki ruffling his hair. The extreme closeness between them pushed down onto Katsuki's chest and clenched at the space inside his larynx, his heart pumping blood into spaces he didn't even know blood could rush into. The heat around his cheekbones specifically annoyed him, and he couldn't help but feel antsy and anxious all of a sudden, confused and irritated by the blush flooding his face.

He chalked it up to Izuku just being heavy.

That was definitely the reason.

"You know, Kacchan..." Izuku began to talk, slow and considerate, voice vibrating against Katsuki's collarbone and sending sharp shivers down his spinal clord. "Hearing your heartbeat like this helps me a little."

Swallowing the excitement building up in his throat, Katsuki cleared his throat, pushing down the nervousness in his body and forcing a gruff tone. "What do you mean?"

"It's... I don't know. Nevermind, Kacchan." The nerd fumbled with his words, clearly stuck inside his head, causing an alarm bell to go off inside Katsuki's mind. He nudged Izuku gently.

"Dumbass, don't leave me on a cliffhanger. Spit it out."

Izuku visibly tensed at that. As a sigh rolled down his lips, Katsuki watched the nerd and his apprehensive expression, his bottom lip rolling between his lips anxiously. It was as if Katsuki could physically feel the pit in Izuku's stomach that began to form. The stressful silence, the anticipation, and the unsure pause on Izuku's end, as if he was waiting for the perfect moment to spill the secret, to admit what he wanted to say.

"I—I sometimes still have nightmares of..." Izuku cleared his throat, voice shaky and uneasy. "You know. What happened to you."

The shock washing over him felt cold and ruthless, like a bucket of icy glacier water had suddenly poured down and bathed his body with the frozen, prickly sensation of surprise, ruthless and irreparable. Any word he wanted to utter back suddenly jumbled into a mass of nothingness that melted away like soft cotton, deeming Katsuki utterly speechless. He blinked through his stunned startlement, fingers curling around Izuku's hair and hesitantly combing through the strands of velvety softness, trying to soothe the nerd in his arms.

Katsuki was trying to soothe somebody. A meteor shower is about to hurl at them or something.

"It's nothing I can't handle, but—" Izuku continued in a rush, trying to rephrase his horrible situation by softening the blow, pretending everything was better than it looked, but Katsuki knew better. Katsuki knew Izuku. "You know, it's— it's different when I can actually hear that you're alive. That you're here. Especially after spending my nights replaying what happened on that battlefield. It's wrong to put this burden on you, Kacchan, but I guess... I guess I just wanted to get it off my chest."

And it shattered Katsuki's heart in a million sharp pieces— to be aware of the pain and torment Izuku has been experiencing every single night. To imagine a startled Izuku in the midnight hours, when all the nurses have quieted down deep inside the hospital and the consistent beep of his heart monitor is the only company Izuku could have right now, weeping and choking on the aftertaste of his horrible night terrors. The war has left irreversible scars on everybody involved, hero or not, villain or not, has destroyed and mangled so many bodies, buildings and innocent dreams— Katsuki couldn't help but feel the hiss of irritation building up in his chest, selfish and emotional.

"Dumb fuck. Of course I'm here. I'll always be here." He assured the nerd curled up against him, squeezing him a little tighter in his warm embrace to emphasise his rough words. "You think I'm gonna leave ya when I didn't even catch up to you yet? Stupid nerd."

Katsuki relaxed his hold on Izuku's body once he heard a small, pained grunt, which was soon followed by a melodic, soft giggle. Still tracing gentle circles in Izuku's silky hair, he watched as Izuku exhaled a saddened breath, as if admitting defeat.

"I think you're already far ahead from me, Kacchan."

Katsuki's heart dipped inside his chest, leaving only a hollow, empty imprint deep inside the space between his lungs. He blinked, wide-eyed, cold goosebumps rolling across his skin in waves at Izuku's cryptic sentence.

"What?" Bakugou scowled. Izuku continued.

"The embers..." Something dark and unhealed rose inside Katsuki's throat once again, blonde brows scrunched up defensively the more Izuku mumbled solemnly. "I don't... I don't know how long they'll last, Kacchan."

Now, that sentence felt like a punch to the gut. Sharp, painful and merciless, aimed straight at his stomach and shooting a throbbing jab up his torso. The uncomfortable truth began to settle in, followed by a bone-deep ache that made his insides feel sore and sunken— meaningless, even. Izuku, Japan's greatest hero who saved his country and the innocent folk that wished to see another day, fucking Deku himself, fearing the day his ferocious, mighty quirk will flicker like a weak light bulb and cease to exist. Something about that realisation made Katsuki's lip press into a thin line, his heart suddenly growing heavy and remorseful.

He would do anything in the world to save Izuku's quirk from disappearing. Katsuki would tear himself to shreds, run a thousand miles until his calves screamed and throbbed, and defeat every single threat without any complaint, even if he'd be bleeding to death, unable to stand or blink or even think of a way to save himself— if it meant to see Izuku leap into the autumn air like a spark of emerald lightning for one last time. To smell the ozone of his quirk crackling back to life, to practice in the school gymnasium until those velvety curls were burned to a crisp, a mere blob of brown follicles sitting on Izuku's head.

But Deku was gone.

Deku was gone.

... Yet, Katsuki was going to make sure that he rebuilds Deku, with his own two hands. No matter what it takes.

"Don't fucking say that. I'll make sure they last long enough for me to beat your ass."

"Kacchan..."

"I mean it. I don't care whatever the fuck happens to the embers, or if you never have a quirk for the rest of your life— You'll get to live your dream for longer than you think, 'Zuku. I'll make sure of it. I promise."

Izuku definitely sensed the raw determination and hope in Katsuki's tone, because suddenly, Izuku decided to shift in Katsuki's embrace, before propping himself up on his weak elbows to take a look at Katsuki's face. Sage eyes sank into the vermillion stare of his best friend, unmoving and careful, as if looking away meant that the moment would shatter into irregular shards and never repare again. Katsuki watched, focused and maybe even competitive, an eyebrow raise being his only response to the prolonged eye contact, to which Izuku's shoulders tensed, suddenly self conscious.

Katsuki waited, sensing that Izuku's brain was running at fifteen miles per hour, forming and plotting something that Katsuki couldn't figure out just yet. Until, suddenly, Izuku exhaled, sharp and impatient, as if saying "fuck it", before he leaned in once again, pressing a rough, fast smooch on Katsuki's cheek. 

...

Izuku slammed his hand over his mouth. 

"Eep!!"

Katsuki slapped his hand over his cheek.

"Wh— What the fuck?! You weirdo!" Katsuki barked back in pure confusion, eyes wild and huge, his entire face bursting into flames as the heat of Izuku's lips imprinted on his cheekbone sent him into a panicked state. His heart rate went through the roof as he hurriedly rubbed at his cheek, trying to remove the sensation of Izuku's mouth lingering stubbornly, but to no avail. "Are you fucking kidding me—"

In mere nanoseconds, Izuku jolted back into life as if he's been zapped, emerald eyes the size of dinner plates. He couldn't help but stumble and stammer through his words as he removed his hand off his mouth, the burgundy blush on Izuku's face only darkening the more he tried to explain his impulsive action.

"I'm sorry! I had to, I— I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking at all, Kacchan, that's so stupid—"

"Shut up!" Bakugou growled through his teeth. Izuku did not listen.

"I don't even know why I did that— Well... I mean... I do know why I did it, but it's not like I—" The nerd began rambling, which instantly made Katsuki's defensive scowl soften into an amused deadpan, knowing this meant that Izuku would not stop yapping. "Y-You just said it so genuinely, and you stared at me for so long... And— and you hugged me so tightly, I had to do—"

"Izuku." Katsuki tried again, softer.

"— something about that, and honestly now I realise how stupid that was and— Oh my God, I can't believe I did that to Kacchan out of all people, I'm so sorry! That was so careless and embarrassing, and-"

Izuku's mumbling and panicked stammering only continued, like the nerd couldn't hear a single thing Katsuki was saying. Now starting to feel mildly annoyed, he sighed, his voice a low rasp as he tried to break Izuku out of his spell.

"Izuku... It's fine, can you just—"

"—Please, forgive me! I didn't think when I—"

"Izuku!" Bakugou yelled.

Spooked, Izuku jolted, his mouth snapping shut in an instant, which in turn made Katsuki exhale with relief. He sighed, crimson eyes flickering from Izuku's round eyes down to his freckles that peppered his flushed cheeks. Realising he's been staring at Izuku again like a fucking creep, he abruptly tore his eyes away, instead following the pattern of wrinkles forming on the thin blankets curled around Izuku's form.

"It's fucking fine, Jesus. I ain't gonna kill you."

There was another meaningful pause after he uttered those words, his lips curling into a defiant, flustered pout. And then, shyly, Bakugou shifted his eyes to glance back at Izuku, just to check if the nerd was still breathing. And yup, Izuku stared back at him with even wider eyes, if that's even possible, his expression relaxed and hopeful. Then, the nerd cleared his throat quietly, lips twitching into the start of a smile.

"Really...?"

"Yes, Izuku. Just don't make it a habit." 

The silence that followed made Katsuki exhale loudly, grumbling the next words with an eye roll. Of course Izuku would be disappointed by that answer.

"... Or do, or whatever, just— Fucking hell, Izuku, stop gaping at me like I hung the stars or some shit—"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" Izuku nodded along obediently as he blurted out an apology, arms stiffening at his sides, looking like a clueless bunny. He wanted to pinch his cheeks and bite them off, but he settled on looking away to extinguish that urge, the sight of Izuku's scarlet face too manipulative and alluring for Katsuki's frail heart to handle tonight.

Izuku bit at the insides of his cheeks— which Katsuki definitely didn't notice, and oh my God he's looking at Izuku again— those wide eyes scanning Katsuki's face for something lingering in his gaze, an answer, a reprimand, anything. But once he realised that Katsuki was keen on staying silent, he started picking at his gown, fingernails gently twirling a stray string that stuck out like a sore thumb. The sound of the clock ticking seemed to grow louder the more they stayed silent, and just as Katsuki was about to turn and glare at Izuku for acting so nervous (which was hilarious, considering Katsuki was the nervous one here), Izuku mumbled.

"So... I can still kiss you?"

"I dunno. I don't care."

"...Okay."

Content with the vague answer, Izuku seemed to relax, the tension in his muscles and the shyness in his expression slowly dissolving. He crawled up against Katsuki's body once again, making sure he doesn't accidentally press down on Katsuki's injured arm, settled down against his chest once more, and then pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his jaw— quick and fleeting. He splayed out across Katsuki's body after that, deciding to finally lay down and get some rest, while Katsuki contemplated the life choices that led him to this position.

Fighting the blush that slowly crept underneath the skin of his cheeks, he huffed out a long breath, body squirming to get more comfortable on the hospital bed, before Katsuki's hand naturally found its way to Izuku's mop of green curls once again. Like muscle memory, his fingers curled and ran across the strands rhythmically, tousling and ruffling the green tufts mindlessly, which further made Izuku melt and sigh, like a kitten getting petted and coddled for the first time. 

"Thank you for everything, Kacchan."

Izuku mumbled into his shoulder weakly, the sleepy exhaustion in his voice lingering quietly and reducing his tone to a shy little hum. Which, much to Katsuki's denial, definitely made his heart jump into his throat, heartbeat echoing inside his ears relentlessly, a consistent thumping that never seemed to cease around Izuku tonight.

And as Katsuki lay there, with Izuku on top of him, snoozing away, Katsuki realised that he didn't really mind how much his heart has been acting up tonight.

As long as its beating, he'll be okay.

As long as it's beating, steady and loud against Izuku's ear, where he can assure himself with each emphatic, resounding noise of his heart, pumping blood, working, keeping Katsuki alive— he'll be okay. Brushing a little springy curl from Izuku's eyes, he watched the way his eyelashes rest against his cheekbones, the sides of his round face full of spots and freckles that match the constellations across the inky sky above Japan. And as Katsuki's scowl softened, he felt his need for rest slowly returning, all the anxiety, worry and terror from thirty minutes ago vanishing alongside his sleepless frustrations. The restless nerves in his body quieted down into a dull hum of the past, the loudest thing in this hospital room being their shared breathing, shared hope for the future, and shared familiarity.

Katsuki could get used to this new familiarity.

He could get used to this— could study Izuku's breathing and know it from the top of his head, could recall the placement of each freckle, mole and dust speckled across his face, could remember the way his eyes go round, shoulders go tense and cheeks burn bright when he says something stupid and blunt. Because as he lay there, reborn and awoken from the ashes of his past that still lay on that barren battlefield, Katsuki realised that chasing an unattainable goal, trying to catch up and be the best, acting like a hound chasing its own tail— it was all so useless and unreasonable.

After all, Izuku has been right here all along.

Katsuki shifted, lifting his head up and wrapping his arms around Izuku's muscular form a little tighter so he could bring the sleepy boy closer to his chest. Once he succeeded, he curled up and leaned in, pressing a long, chaste kiss on the freckles below his eye. If Izuku moved and smiled timidly at the action, Katsuki didn't notice it, because he was busy settling down with a smile of his own, head nestled back into the pillow comfortably.

That was the first night the both of them slept soundly— chest to chest, intertwined. Nothing to disturb their rest, nobody to infiltrate their dreams.

And if a fellow nurse snapped a picture of the pair, curled up against each other? Well... That was a secret for her to keep, and for nobody else to know.