Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s been a little over five months since Izuku really started committing himself to this Spiderman thing.

On most days, it was easy. Swinging through the city, stopping small crimes, grabbing cats from trees and helping grandmas cross the road. To a degree, it was therapeutic. His brain ran a mile a minute after the spider bite— not that it wasn’t working in overdrive before it already. In all honesty, it only became way worse. But it was worth it. Being Spiderman, Izuku found, made him more confident, instilling a sense of pride and self-worth into himself that wasn’t there before. Purpose. Seeing the faces of all the people he helped, their smiles and breaths of relief— it was payment enough for all the bruises and scars he quickly collected. Even if no one knew who exactly they were thanking behind the mask.

On other days, though, being Spiderman was the most difficult thing Izuku had to do.

Tonight was a good example of that. Izuku swung through the more unsavory streets of Tokyo after receiving a call from Ochako about overhearing the presence of some thief through the police radio she hacked into. She was the only person who knew that Izuku was Spiderman. It had happened as an accident. A few months ago, his mom let her in his room the night before his birthday because she wanted to surprise him. Izuku, however, had been busy stopping a mugging a few blocks away. He came back in through his window, Spiderman suit and all, and Ochako had gaped at him with a birthday hat strapped to her head and a cake in her hands. It was quickly dropped onto the floor as she squeaked.

After explaining everything —and begging her not to tell his mom that he had been out past his curfew— she agreed to keep his secret as long as he let her help him. Now she acted as a sort of right-hand-woman; calling him whenever she heard something on the police radio while he was resting, looking up criminal details while he was swinging through the city, navigating him through the streets. If he was being honest with himself, he was glad she found out. Now, his little vigilante missions ran much more efficiently, and it was all thanks to her.

It was three in the morning. Izuku had to get up for school at six, but he hauled himself up to his feet and tugged on his deep green suit. This part of Tokyo looked different every night. Grimy streets, alleys only wide enough for one broad shoulder. Under the yellow streetlights, the only thing that glinted were puddles and trashbags. And tonight, apparently, the hood of a ransacked car. Izuku propelled from building to building, finally sticking against the wall of an office tower as he looked down at the criminal of the night. There were actually several of them. Three, to be exact. They were prying open a car window with a crowbar. Izuku grinned behind his mask. At least tonight, his job looked easy. Maybe if he hurried, he’ll be back in bed by four and squeeze in two more hours of sleep.

“Whatcha doing down there?” Izuku asked innocently from his perch.

The three thieves looked around for a moment, whipping their heads this way and that in search for the source of his voice. One of them finally looked up and scowled when he saw him sticking to the side of the building, his figure barely illuminated from the lights that reflected upwards from the street.

“Oh shit.” One of them growled. “It’s that spiderboy.”

Izuku frowned. “Spider man .”

The bigger one of the three waved him off, leaning his weight heavier on the crowbar. The window popped and shattered, and Izuku quickly made his decline into the opening of the alley.

“Whatever, he’s just a kid.” He scowled, nudging his friends. “Just quickly help me get this thing and let’s go!”

Izuku laughed, and it rang through the empty street. “I take full offense at that statement.”

He let out a zip of webbing and swung closer to them. He perched on a streetlight that overlooked their efforts, the pads of his feet barely finding balance over the cap that encased its yellow bulb. The men were still struggling, one of them leaning in past the broken window and prying at something inside. Izuku flicked his wrist and a jet of web fluid released, catching one of the thieves on his shoulder and knocking him back so he was forced to pry his head out of the car.

“Hey!” Izuku cried indignantly. He shot out another string. “Are you guys ignoring me?” This time, he glued the man’s wrist against the car door, immobilizing him. “That’s kinda rude, y’know.”

“Fuck!” The thief tried to yank his hand free, but it was no use. Izuku had perfected the fluid’s formula a few months ago. It was a struggle to cut through it even with a knife. “Let me go, you brat!”

Izuku laughed as he pounced down on the other two from the streetlight. “Not unless you take it back!” 

Things always escalated quickly once he made the first move. It was as if these criminals never expected him to do anything, only taunt and watch from a distance, just another annoying kid that tried too hard to be a hero. But Izuku wasn’t like the rest of them. His reflexes were lightning quick as one of the two men lunged at him with a knife. He effortlessly dodged it just by tilting his shoulder.

“Too slow!” Izuku wagged a finger at him. The thief only growled and surged again, and Izuku stepped to the side. “Is that all you got?”

Without turning, he could feel the other thief advancing behind him, a crowbar arced over his head and ready to strike. Izuku turned around and webbed his feet together, and the man came down hard on the pavement, splashing into a puddle.

“Fuck!” He cursed, trying to get back on his feet but only rolling himself around in the muck.

“Aw, mad you got beaten by a kid?” Izuku taunted. He quickly webbed the thief’s mouth shut before he could spit more curses at him. And his hands too while he was at it, because why not? “Don’t worry about it. Your bones are probably creaking. We all grow old someday!”

The remaining thief, his face now flushed a deep, unflattering red, raised his knife menacingly at him. “You little piece of shit!”

Izuku let the man fight a little, dodging his pathetically slow and clumsy strikes with a simple tilt of his shoulders, one sweep of his feet. It felt a lot like dancing, and Izuku made a point of swaying his arms in the air like he was. This only aggravated the thief even more. Again and again it went like this, until the man found himself entering the alley just to keep up with Izuku’s fast strides, at which point the vigilante simply let out rhythmic sprays of webbing from both wrists until the man was plastered against the wall, his entire torso covered in white. 

Izuku whistled, standing back with a hand on his chin as if he was admiring an artwork. The thief could only scream and curse unintelligibly. 

“Y’know, when I grow up, I’m not gonna be breaking into cars to steal—” Izuku turned his gaze to the car and squinted, looking past the broken window, “—what? A car radio? Seriously? Are people still doing that these days?”

“Fuck you!” The thief spat. “You’re just another entitled, wannabe—”

“At least I’m not a wannabe thief .” Izuku snapped. Why was ‘wannabe’ the only title they used on him these days? Those tabloids are really not doing him any justice. “That’s way more embarrassing, don’t you think?”

The thief snarled. “You fucking son of a—”

Izuku quickly shot a web at the man’s pants. With a quick flick of his wrist he tugged the article of clothing down, revealing a pair of polka-dotted boxers.

“Whoops!” Izuku chirped, before pointing out gleefully, “Hey, I think I have the same pair at home!”

That was when he saw the flash. It illuminated the alley for just a millisecond, and Izuku quickly whipped around, finding a bystander just a few feet from the ransacked car with a phone in her hand, eyes wide as saucers. She was perched on top of a bicycle with a bulking delivery bag on her shoulders. Izuku winced. Shit . He wasn’t anticipating being caught in the act tonight.

“Oh crap.” Izuku said, belatedly. “Hey, no pictures buddy! That’s an invasion of privacy!”

And then, of course, he heard the police sirens coming this way, the alley and the street it opened up to quickly being swept with flashing red and blue lights. Izuku quickly swung himself up onto a streetlight, and the girl’s eyes followed him, mouth wide open.

“Gotta go.” He flashed her a finger gun. “I really hope you delete that!”

“Stop!” The police cars screeched to a halt at the mouth of the street, too narrow for the vehicles to come through. Cops scrambled out from them like ants. Was it really necessary to deploy this many people for a carjacking? Then again, they were probably here for Spiderman. “Police!”

Izuku waved at them before shooting a web at an adjacent building and swinging away. “You’re welcome!”

The next morning was rough .

Even though Izuku had indeed gotten back in bed by four, he spent the hour after that tossing and turning, thinking about that woman who had taken a picture of him. For all he knew, she could’ve been videotaping the entire thing. Not that it really mattered. This wouldn’t be the first time someone had done that while he was out fighting crime. There were hundreds of videos of Spiderman on the internet, and he’s been on the news, too, for god’s sake. But that didn’t mean it ever got any easier. There was that persistent, nagging feeling of anxiety every single time. That maybe his mask had been out of place, or he had forgotten to lower the register of his voice, or someone he knew would recognize the way he moved or acted. 

Izuku didn’t want anyone to know that he was Spiderman. Sure, if he was being honest with himself, he liked what little fame and glory that came with the title. He liked the way some news outlets spoke of him, saying how he was brave and good and selfless, interviewing people on his encounters with him. But it was a private sense of pride. Something he could be proud of internally, just for himself. He couldn’t imagine being swarmed by hordes of people if his identity was leaked. They would say he was too young. That he couldn’t be trusted. They would force him to back down. They would want to experiment on  him. Having Ochako know the truth was risky enough. Not that he didn’t trust her. It just became another point of exposure that he had to think about. What if some villain found out that she knew who Spiderman actually was? Would they use her against him? As a vessel for revenge?

In all honesty, he thought the possibility of his friends and family finding out he was Spidernman from those Youtube clips was unlikely. He acted differently when he was in his suit, more confident and outspoken, more fluid. As just regular old Izuku, he was often quiet and timid around strangers. Meek. Unassuming. Goody-two-shoes , as Katsuki would call him. Being Spiderman just provided an outlet for him to explore that more free-spoken part of himself, which felt more like an extension of who he was at this point. Izuku didn’t know what he would do if that part of himself would be taken away from him, just like that.

Izuku hauled himself out of bed with just three hours of sleep. It wasn’t anything new, but that didn’t make it any less tiring all the same. When he walked out of his apartment building, Katsuki was already waiting outside for him, fuming as he tapped his feet impatiently on the pavement. Izuku was late. Usually, he would be the one waiting outside Katsuki’s house, but recently more of these late mornings happened, and Katsuki accommodated for it. Which was surprising, to say the least. Even if they had been best friends since they were four, and have been walking to school together ever since their parents trusted them enough to go by themselves. Katsuki rarely made accommodations for anybody.

“Why the fuck do you look like that?” Katsuki snapped when Izuku made his way to him.

“Good morning to you too, Kacchan.” Izuku smiled at him tiredly. He yawned. “Late night. Couldn’t sleep.”

Katsuki scowled. “You’ve been looking like that a lot lately.”

Izuku nudged his shoulder as they started walking. “Aw, you worried about me?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Katsuki pushed against him with more force, which sent him stumbling to the side. “I’m literally telling you you look ugly as fuck.”

“Ouch.” Izuku laughed. He knew Katsuki never meant any of his words when he spoke like that. “Anyway, remember the new All Might game I pre-ordered last week?” The blond grunted in response. “It’s coming tomorrow. Can I come over to yours and play it after school?”

Katsuki shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Sweet!” Izuku whooped.

They spent the rest of the walk to school with Izuku rambling on about the features the new game had. All Might video games came in all quantities and forms, but this one was rumored to be the most accurate of them all. Complete with the hero’s pre-war backstory, to the super serum, to the interactable tri-colored shield. Izuku always admired All Might, even if he was a hero all the way from America. But he was Japanese, and he had been a scrawny little kid before the serum just like Izuku was before the spider bite. All Might was a part of the reason why Izuku decided to be Spiderman.

Katsuki sulked and kept quiet, but Izuku knew he was listening. They had both been equally huge fans of All Might when they were kids, after all. Even now they both had all, if not most, of the collectibles available to them in Japan.

When they walked into Class 1A, Izuku was immediately approached by Ochako.

“Izuku!” She waved him over to her desk.

Izuku grinned at her while Katsuki ignored them both altogether, making a straight beeline to his own seat. “Oh, hi Ochako!”

She glanced from side to side, and once she determined that the rest of their classmates were out of earshot, she lowered her voice conspiratorially, leaning into his space.

“How did last night go?”

“Pretty great!” Izuku beamed. “I got there before the cops did. As always.”

“Awesome!” Ochako grinned. Then, she pushed forward a coffee cup in his direction. He hadn’t even realized that there were two of them on the table. “Here, you deserve this.”

Izuku gasped in delight. He had been in too much of a hurry this morning to fix himself a cup before running out the door, knowing Katsuki would have been waiting for him downstairs. He wrapped both hands around the warm cardboard holder, breathing the steam in deeply. A cappuccino. His favorite. 

“You’re an angel.” Izuku exhaled. Ochako did this too often. One of these days Izuku had to pay her back. “Thank you so much.”

Ochako shrugged. “No problem. Figured you’d need it.”

“As much as you do, too.” He pointed out. “What were you doing listening to the police radio that late?”

“Oh, I wasn’t actually listening!” Ochako leaned forward. “I developed this automatic system that alerts my phone whenever the radio talks about crimes that are up your alley. So they filter past all the boring stuff.”

Izuku’s eyes practically glimmered. “That's amazing, Ochako!”

Ochako shushed him. “Not so loud!”

“Sorry.” Izuku said sheepishly. “But really, that’s fantastic! Thank you!”

“No problem, it was fun to do!” She assured him, before taking a sip of whatever was in her cup. “What do you have after homeroom?”

“Chemistry.” Izuku beamed. It was one of his favorite subjects alongside Biology.

“Nice.” Ochako smiled. “I got History.” She looked around for a second, and for a moment Izuku thought she was going to talk about more Spiderman stuff. But then she nodded to her right, and when Izuku followed her gaze, he caught Katsuki glaring at them. The blond angrily looked away when he was caught. When Izuku turned back to Ochako, ready to apologize for his friend’s rudeness, she only gave him a sly smile and a conspiratorial wiggle of her eyebrows. Oh . Izuku flushed. “Looks like Bakugou’s getting moody. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“I—It’s not—” Izuku sighed when Ochako’s grin only widened. “Yeah, I’ll see you at lunch.”

It was as much a dismissal as any. Izuku thanked her once again for the coffee and made his way to Katsuki’s table. His own desk was just behind him, but it was difficult to talk while straining forward in his seat, and god knows Katsuki wasn’t going to turn his chair around just to chat, even though the blond got grumpy when Izuku went off with someone else. He’s been that way since they were kids, and Izuku always found it kind of endearing. He leaned against Katsuki’s table, and the blond pretended to not notice he was there. 

“Sorry about that, Kacchan.” Izuku chirped.

“Why’re you apologizing?!” Katsuki snarled, looking adamantly down at his phone. “Go talk to round face if you want, I don’t care!”

“Sure.” Izuku rolled his eyes. He offered out his cup. “Want a sip?”

Katsuki lowered his head, scowling. “I don’t want your fuckin’ coffee.”

Izuku smiled, and pushed the cup onto his desk. He couldn’t have too much coffee anyway, ever since he got bit by the spider. It made him too jittery, the caffeine making his already heightened senses too much sharper. Overstimulating. Katsuki pretended to ignore the cup, but as Izuku took a seat when their teacher stood up to start class, he saw the blond start to drink it.

He grinned.

Sometimes, Katsuki was so predictable.

The first few classes passed unremarkably, and quickly it became time for lunch. Izuku met up with the rest of his friends in the cafeteria. They all had different classes before lunch that day, and when he walked over to their usual table everyone was already there. Katsuki was listening to Kirishima and Kaminari rambling animatedly about something, constantly cutting each other off. Ochako was quietly speaking to Iida, while Todoroki was getting his ear talked off by Mina. Izuku took a seat in the space between Ochako and Katsuki, obviously reserved for him. The brunette gave him a beaming smile while the blond just pretended he wasn’t there.

Izuku was quickly roped into Kirishima and Kaminari’s ramblings.

“Did you guys see that new clip of Spiderman on Youtube?” The redhead asked, twisting his head this way and that, waiting for a reaction.

Izuku winced. Well crap , that delivery lady hadn't deleted the footage after all. Not that he had expected her to. But still .

Kaminari’s eyes widened. “There’s a new clip?”

“Fuck yeah bro!” Kirishima took this as an invitation to whip his phone out, tapping furiously. “Apparently it’s from last night! Some guys were breaking into a car and he stopped them.” 

Oh god. Yep. That would be him. Izuku took a deep, calming breath, tapping his fingers on top of his knees, hidden by the lunch table. It’s not like his friends haven’t openly raved about Spiderman in front of him before, but it never got any less uncomfortable. Especially when they tended to say things that were too flattering. He always felt like he needed to say something back.

Izuku glanced to his side, at the blond glumly chewing the contents of his bento.

There was also Katsuki, who for some unknown reason, hated Spiderman.

“Oh.” Kaminari said disinterestedly before Kirishima even pulled the video up. “Man, I thought it was gonna be something more interesting. Who cares about a car thief?”

“What, dude, that’s hella interesting!” Kirishima exclaimed, smacking an insistent hand on the table. All of their lunches jumped. “Spiderman is so manly!” The redhead sighed wistfully, holding up his phone. “Also, he pantsed one of the guys.”

Kaminari’s eyes widened into mischievous saucers. “Well why didn’t you say that first!” He made grabby hands at Kirishima’s phone. “Show me!”

“Hold on, bro.” The redhead nudged him off. “ Man . The only video I can find now is from this morning’s news. The footage must’ve been bought.”

Kaminari jostled him. “Show us anyway!”

 Kirishima begrudgingly clicked on the video and angled the phone their way, so all four of them could look. Except Katsuki, who was stabbing a fork into his lunch and not sparing them a glance. A woman was on screen sitting on a typical news reporter desk, with a small thumbnail of last night’s video playing on the upper right corner. Her voice was calm and punctuated as she spoke.

“ New footage was received of a late night occurence in the alleys of central Tokyo. Three thieves were breaking into a car when Spiderman —the hero-slash-vigilante under everyone’s attention these past few months— intercepted the break-in and apprehended the thieves before police arrived on the scene… ”

The video on the corner widened until it filled the entire screen, the reporter lady now gone. It was a top-down angle of Spiderman and the three thieves, right when Izuku webbed one of them to the car and he started to jump down from the streetlight. The footage was slightly blurry, as if filtered by some obstruction. By a window . Someone must have still been in the office building late at night, and had recorded him from one of the upper floors.

Izuku watched himself dodge the thief’s quick knife jabs. That was interesting. In person, as it was happening, it hadn’t felt quick at all. He remembered the strikes to be languid and clumsy. Here, in this footage, everything was lightning quick. It looked… impressive. Izuku felt himself smile as one after the other, the thieves were immobilized. At one point the person taking the video had pried open the window, and Izuku’s voice was picked up by the phone. The recording went on until he pantsed the thief.

“ Whoops! ” Izuku heard his own voice say, albeit in that lowered tone he would use when he was Spiderman. “ Hey, I think I have the same pair at home! ”

“Ha!” Kaminari laughed, tugging the phone closer to himself. “Rewind it! Rewind it!”

Kirishima waved him away. “I will after it finishes!”

“ There is still much controversy over Spiderman’s public opinion. ” The news reporter’s voice continued over the footage. Nothing much happened now. Spiderman swung away from the police as the officers looked up in confusion, trying to trace his movements. “ Some say he is the hero we all need, some say he sounds far too young to be doing such dangerous things, and some say he is only hindering police work.” The footage ended and the reporter came back on screen. “Nevertheless, we can all agree that Spiderman has done more good than bad for the streets of Tokyo. We hope that this charming young hero continues to protect… ”

Charming?! Izuku flushed deeply at that, picking up his fork so he could duck his head and pretend he was eating. Nobody in real life would ever describe Izuku as charming . Was the public finally warming up to Spiderman now? After so many months? Izuku knew that it didn’t matter what other people thought as long as he continued to do good, but it still felt nice knowing that his help was appreciated. 

“Spiderman’s so cool .” Kirishima gushed as he let Kaminari snatch the phone away from his hands. “I wonder who he is? He looks and sounds like he’s our age!”

At this, Kaminari solemnly put the phone down.

“Guys, I have something to tell you.” He plastered on a dramatically serious face and sighed, frowning deeply. “Promise you won’t tell anybody.”

Kirishima shoved him on the shoulder. “Yeah, right! Yesterday you fell on your face because your shoelaces were untied!”

“Hey!” Kaminari laughed. “I bet that happens to Spiderman, too! Nobody is immune to untied shoelaces!”

“Spiderman’s just a wannabe hero.” Katsuki said suddenly, in such an abrupt and aggressive way that all three of them turned to look at him. The blond was scowling into his lunch. “He acts like a kid. What kinda hero is that ?”

Izuku froze, looking away with a frown. Don’t take it personally, he told himself. He doesn’t know . But it had hurt all the same. Every time Katsuki made these kind of comments —which was to say, every single time the topic of Spiderman was brought up— Izuku always had this nagging feeling in his chest. Something that felt a lot like disappointment . Of course he wanted Katsuki to think Spiderman was cool —or at least decent . Izuku had always placed the blond’s opinions in high regard since they were little. And in all honesty, Katsuki played a big part in why Izuku decided to be Spiderman in the first place. So now, to hear all this, all the time — well, it stung .

“Dude, you’re literally seventeen.” Kirishima narrowed his eyes at him. Then, he swung his gaze to Izuku. “What do you think, Midoriya?”

“Huh?”

“What do you think of Spiderman?”

“Oh!’ Izuku stammered. Crap . He hadn’t been prepared. “Uh— I—I think that what he’s doing is cool!” He started to maniacally articulate with his hands. “Y'know, helping people out! And stuff.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, nudging his arm away. “Of course you fuckin’ do.”

“Exactly my point, bro.” Kirishima puffed up his chest. “If Midoriya thinks it’s cool, then it’s cool.”

Katsuki glared at him. “He’s literally the nerdiest nerd in this entire school.”

“Kacchan!”

“Oh, by the way!” Kirishima exclaimed. “What are you guys doing for the English project?”

“Dude, I don’t know.” Kaminari sighed. “I’m just hoping Kats is gonna carry my ass through the passing score.”

At this, Katsuki finally looked up from his lunch, scowling at Kaminari and waving around his fork.

“Fat fucking chance!” He snarled, pointing the utensil menacingly at him. “You’re gonna contribute whether you like it or not.”

“I just can’t believe Hizashi-sensei only gave us a few days to do it.” Kirishima groaned dramatically, draping himself over the table. 

Izuku was paired up with Mina. It was just a standard poster project, something about literary devices. Mina was great at crafts, so they were just going to meet up the day after tomorrow and do the entire thing in one sitting. But he knew Katsuki hated physical projects like these. And it was even worse that he was paired with Kaminari. Not one of them had a single creative bone in their bodies.

Izuku nudged the blond. “Too bad we’re not in the same group, Kacchan.”

“More like luck if you ask me.” Katsuki muttered.

“Kacchan!”

“Oi, Bakugou!” Kaminari called from across the table. “You wanna do the group project tomorrow?”

“Can’t.” Katsuki shot him down immediately.

“Why not?” 

Katsuki glared at him. “ Because .”

Izuku beamed next to him, a small flutter coming alive in his stomach. He knew why Katsuki had said no. They had made plans earlier this morning to play the new All Might game tomorrow. The blond was always like this; he pretended not to pay attention, not to care when Izuku would drag him to do this and that, but at the end of the day Katsuki always came through, and Izuku would even go so far to say that he tended to enjoy the time they spent together. 

Still, every time Katsuki showed that he paid attention to their friendship in little ways like these, Izuku’s heart leapt. The blond would never do this for anybody else and Izuku knew that. He would like to think that this was Katsuki’s own way of showing affection, of showing that he cared . It was small, but it meant the world to Izuku.

Katsuki cast him a sideways glance. “What’re you smiling about.”

Izuku’s grin only widened, and he leaned slightly into the blond’s space. “Nothing!”

Katsuki didn’t push him away, only scowled into his lunch again. But Izuku could’ve sworn he saw the slightest tinge of pink on his cheeks before he ducked his head.

“Okay, well, I can’t really do it any other time.” Kaminari interjected. “Unless you wanna come over to my house today, but it’s gotta be after practice.”

Izuku raised a brow. “Doesn’t that run until five?”

“Yeah!” Kaminari beamed. “Coach is prepping us for a match in two weeks, so I really can’t miss it.”

Izuku didn’t like the sound of that. He and Katsuki lived in the same neighborhood since they were kids, and he knew the only way to get to Kaminari’s place was to cut through these dilapidated, narrow streets that their parents always advised them to stay away from. It was fine when the sun was out, or if you walked through it with friends. But at night ?

Before Izuku could interject, Katsuki spoke. “Five is fine.”

“Great!” Kaminari chirped.

The bell rang not long after, signaling the end of lunch. They quickly cleared their lunchboxes and made their way to their next class. It was Algebra up next, which he shared with Katsuki. He struggled to keep up with the blond as he speedwalked down the hallway, no doubt knowing what Izuku was going to say.

“Kacchan,” Izuku said trying to get his attention, “it’ll be dark by the time you get back from Kaminari’s.”

Katsuki glared at him as they ducked between students. “So?”

“So,” Izuku sighed, “it’s dangerous.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ baby . I’m allowed to be out late.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Shut your trap, nerd. It’s fine.”

“But you’ll have to go through that alley—”

“I know —”

“It’s known for mugging—”

“Sweet fucking christ, Deku, I know !” Katsuki stopped and threw his arms in the air, before he continued his fast-paced stride. “I’d like to see someone try and mug me.”

Izuku sighed. He knew the blond was going to react this way. But that was fine. Because Izuku was Spiderman now, and if worse comes to worse he could always keep an eye on Katsuki. He was planning on doing patrols after school today anyway.

“At least text me when you leave Kaminari’s.”

Katsuki raised a bewildered brow at him, as if Izuku didn’t constantly ask him to do this. “Why the fuck would I do that ?”

“So I know what time you leave, obviously!” Izuku sighed. “And text when you get home! What if something happens?”

Katsuki gave him a look. “No.”

“Kacchan!”

“Quit your yapping!” He snapped. “And keep up! I’m not having Nishida yell at me for being late again!”

Izuku frowned, picking up his pace. He was sure that Katsuki would be fine on his own— he has taken jujutsu since they were kids and was one of the best fighters in their age group, after all. Like, crazy good. Competing in nationals and tournaments internationally kind of good. And that had to account for something . But still, hand-to-hand combat wasn’t really reliable against guns or knives. Well, unless Katsuki suddenly developed superhuman powers like he did. Maybe Izuku was just overthinking this.

They walked into Algebra, and Izuku decided not to say anything more of it.

After school, Izuku went home and immediately put on the Spiderman suit. He hadn’t received any radio pings on his phone from the new app Ochako installed for him, but patrolling around the city, watching people go about their daily lives and making sure they didn’t get hurt, was therapeutic for him. And it had been a long day. He needed this.

Izuku didn’t end up having to fight any real crime. There had been a pickpocketer —the victim didn’t even know he was being picked— but the thief gave up pretty easily and just handed the wallet back when confronted. Smile of relief. A word of thanks. And he was off again.

He hadn’t really been expecting a text from Katsuki. It was always a toss-up whether or not he actually listened when Izuku told him to text him when he walked alone late at night. But as he was lounging on a skyscraper in Shinjuku, admiring the late-night sights and watching the bustle of people, his phone pinged with the special text alarm he had set for K atsuki. He put down the burger he had brought up there to eat, and checked his phone. It was already nine in the evening. When did that happen?

[KACCHAN]

leaving pikachu’s place

Izuku grinned, immediately texting back a reply.

[deku]

cool! be safe! :D

text me when ur back home

Izuku wrapped up the half-eaten burger, tucking the brown paper bag under his arm as he descended the skyscraper, tugging his mask back on his face. There weren’t many tall buildings in Tokyo —a regulation that came with a country prone to earthquakes— so he slowly brought himself down with a single string attached to the top. Very spider-like. A kid pointed at him in awe when he finally landed and found a trashcan to toss his food into. He gave her a wave, smiling under his mask, before he was off.

He and Katsuki lived quite far off from city center, but it only took him around ten minutes to get there with the webs. He knew the city’s layout like the back of his hand now, a useful outcome of being Spiderman. Izuku used to get lost all the time . And maybe it was because he was able to see the streets from an elevated view, but now, navigation came easy. He swung between buildings, perched and jumped from streetlights. A few hollers and calls of ‘Spiderman!’ were directed his way, and he replied with his own enthusiastic greetings. It felt good. Invigorating . There was no other sensation like feeling the wind sluice around his latex suit, the feeling of flying through a busy city. He felt invincible . Weightless.

Finally, he reached the area where Kaminari lived. It was a nice neighborhood for the most part, clean streets and working streetlights. Izuku padded along the rooftops, tracing the route Katsuki would’ve taken to go back home. The night was quiet, the sky nothing more than a clear onyx blanket that spanned the sky. There were only one or two people out on the streets, but that quickly changed when he approached the dilapidated area that his mom had warned him about.

There were more people milling these streets, and none of them looked… nice . Men with tattoos, smoking and drinking and being rowdy in these in-between spaces where no one could actually see them. Izuku would equate these alleys to mouse tunnels. You wouldn’t know it was there until you came across the first opening, and then the tiny streets would open up like a maze. Sure, there was a way around it. But it would usually add fifteen extra minutes to the walk back to their neighborhood, and Izuku knew that there was no way Katsuki would take that alternative. He saw him now; a lone, spiky-haired figure walking nonchalantly to the mouth of the alleys, bright orange headphones strapped to his head and a laptop tucked underneath his arm. 

Izuku really wanted to smack him upside the head. He knew for a fact that Aunt Mitsuki would have told him when they were younger to never hand-carry valuables in areas like these. Katsuki could really be stupid sometimes. Only, it wasn’t really stupidity, Izuku knew. It was arrogance . The blond never thought that anything could touch him. And that belief has stayed true, so far. Izuku hoped for both of them that tonight wouldn’t be an exception.

For the most part, the loitering men left Katsuki alone. Except for the intermittent calls of ‘what’re you doin’ here, kid?’ and ‘it’s past your bedtime!’ , none of them really interacted with him. Katsuki kept his gaze straight and his face closed off, walking with all the confidence in the world. But Izuku knew there had to have been some tinge of uncertainty in him to have texted Izuku before he left. That, or maybe he just wanted to let him know he was safe. Because Katsuki of all people knew how Izuku tended to overthink. That set off another flutter in his gut, but Izuku quickly shook the feeling off. Focus , he told himself. Katsuki wasn’t in the clear yet.

It was then that the blond took a wrong turn. Izuku could see from this angle that he was heading to a dead end. He cursed under his mask, hopping from rooftop to rooftop to get a good angle. There was no way to tell him without giving off his spot. Katsuki would just have to figure it out himself. And if something happened— well, that’s why he was here, wasn’t it?

As Katsuki rounded the corner, he saw the dead end. Cursing, he pulled out his phone, no doubt checking where he had missed his turn. Almost immediately, like it had been all orchestrated, some of the men from further down the path grinned and threw down their cigarettes, not even bothering to smother the embers beneath their shoes. They approached Katsuki, who made a point of not noticing their advance. Izuku’s blood ran cold .

“Hey kid.” One of the men said, stopping just short of being in Katsuki’s personal space. There were two of them, with more than a handful watching, lining the narrow alley.  He nodded to Katsuki’s laptop. “Whatcha got there?”

The blond turned around and glared at him, tugging his headphones off. “Mind your own fuckin’ business.”

Izuku winced. Katsuki could never put a filter on his mouth, even in the worst situations. The two men chuckled, nudging each other like they’d just witnessed the funniest thing in the world.

“Well, well!” The other one exclaimed. “What a mouth on this one!”

“Listen kid.” His friend cocked his head. “Why don’t you just hand us your stuff and we’ll let you go.”

Katsuki gave them a once over, scoffed , before trying to push past them. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

This angered them even further. Before Katsuki even got two paces away from them, they yanked him back by the collar of his shirt and pushed him towards the grimy walls. Izuku stood up abruptly from his crouch, his blood starting to boil. He should jump down now. He should—

“You think this is a joke, kid?” The man hissed, holding Katsuki in place with an arm across his neck. The blond didn’t even seem fazed. “Preppy boy. I don’t know where you’re from, but we don’t play around here.”

“You see this?” The other one pulled out a knife. It glinted menacingly in the dark. “Don’t think I won’t use it on you just ‘cause you’re a kid.”

To Izuku’s horror, Katsuki gave the two men a smirk, and spat in the first one’s face. He reeled back, letting go of Katsuki momentarily. The blond used that opportunity to back off from the wall, no longer cornered. But instead of running, instead of doing anything to try to get away from the dead end, he dropped into a stance Izuku recognized all too well. 

Fuck .

Katsuki was actually going to try and fight them.

“You don’t fucking scare me .”

To Katsuki’s credit, he actually stood his ground. When one of the men charged at him, he grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm over his shoulder, sending his body crashing onto the ground. A sharp smack resounded in the alley, and all the other men along the street looked up. The one on the ground groaned, struggling to sit up. Izuku’s eyes actually widened beneath his mask. He’s only ever seen Katsuki fight against kids their age, never grown men. Maybe Katsuki wasn’t lying when he said he’d be fine after all. But he had spoken too soon. The other mugger took that opportunity to pounce on Katsuki’s back, yanking his laptop from under his arm. When Katsuki turned around to take it back, he held up the knife he was brandishing before and took a slash at him. 

Katsuki was too slow. The blade grazed his forearm, and his sleeve ripped. In a matter of seconds Izuku could see a trickle of blood soaking the white garment. Izuku’s chest seized . But Katsuki didn’t pay it any mind, didn’t even seem to feel it. The man held his laptop up victoriously, cackling as if he had just won, but Katsuki’s eyes flooded with a sort of darkness that only meant anger . Like a bull seeing red.

Right . That’s enough of that.

Izuku jumped down from the rooftop, shooting webs to immobilize the man who was already on the ground, making sure he stayed down. Quickly, he landed in a crouch between Katsuki and the thief, drawing himself up to a full height when he saw the slight panic in the remaining man’s eyes. But it was gone in a flash as he scowled. Izuku’s seen it all before. They always pretended not to be scared, but that one moment of weakness always showed the truth.

 “Whoa, buddy!” He held up his hands, but his voice was dangerously low. “I think you should give that back to him.”

The thief held up his knife again, only this time, a sliver of Katsuki’s blood soaked the blade. “Stand back!”

“Oh no, you’ve discovered my one weakness!” Izuku cried sarcastically. “Small knives!”

The man snarled. “Why you—”

Izuku didn’t waste any time toying with him. With one quick zip he webbed the knife right out of his hand, depositing it into his own. Another zip and the laptop was in his grasp. He threw the knife behind him, careful not to accidentally hurt Katsuki in the process. He spared his friend a glance. The blond’s eyes were wide, looking at him like he was some sort of alien . For once, Izuku grinned, he was speechless .

“You okay?” He asked, handing the laptop back to him.

Katsuki spluttered. “I—”

There was no time to check in. The thief surged forward, fists up like he was going to take a swipe at Izuku, but a quick dodge and a punch to the nose sent him back flying. Izuku drew up his wrists, and in two quick thwips he had webbed him on either hands. Izuku crossed his arms, and the thief’s limbs twisted , sending him careening to the ground. He tied the webbing like makeshift cuffs.

The man still tried to get up, staggering onto his legs. Izuku only grinned as he tried to headbutt him. It was the only thing he could do with his hands tied.

“On your left.” Izuku teased. He sidestepped, like he was trickling a bull, whistling. “Too slow!”

The thief groaned, righting his stance. “Come at me, Spiderboy!”

Izuku rolled his eyes. Why could they never get his name right? “It’s Spider man !”

He decided to end this quickly. He webbed the guy’s feet together, and at the next step he took he came crashing down. One last zip and Izuku had rendered him mute. 

He laughed, taunting. “That’ll shut you up.”

But Izuku hadn’t been watching the other men in the alley. Slowly, they started to advance. There had to be seven of them at this point. He tried to assess the situation, tried to see where they would strike first, but one of them lunged forward and—

And went straight past him.

He turned around, and the man had tried to grab Katsuki .

“Watch out!” Izuku cried, webbing the back of the man’s head and yanking him away.

One, two punches and he was down. A quick swipe at his knees and he folded.

“ Fuck .” Izuku heard Katsuki curse behind him.

More of the men started charging now. Crap . Izuku has never had to fight like this, with one big weak spot and almost ten men running at him all at once. It would’ve been an easy fight alone, but Katsuki was too unpredictable. He couldn’t ensure that the blond was safe if he couldn't even afford to turn around. And god knows that Katsuki would only try to fight alongside him soon enough. He quickly turned to his friend, grabbing his hand.

“Okay, we’re getting out of here!” Izuku said, pulling him close around the waist. “Come on!”

“What the fuck!” Katsuki yelled. “Don’t fuckin’—”

Izuku attached a web to a neighboring building. He felt Katsuki’s arm start to coil around his shoulders, another grasping at his middle. He knew what was coming.

“Hold on!” Izuku said as he yanked the line.

And they went flying.

At the first surge upwards, Katsuki lost his grip on the laptop. Izuku quickly shot a web out and caught it in midair, tucking it against his chest as they swung from building to building. Katsuki’s legs started to bracket around his waist, his entire body rigid as he placed Izuku under a full-body death grip. Under their feet, the streets blurred. There were times where Izuku had to land and run along the rooftops, but his grip on Katsuki’s body didn’t slacken even once, and the blond didn’t seem to want to let go anyway. Izuku didn’t know how far they should go before it would be safe. Just out of this drab neighborhood, that was for sure. But he had to be careful not to direct them too close to home. That would seem too suspicious. 

Katsuki’s body was warm against his. Izuku couldn’t remember the last time they had been this close together. It felt quite… nice . Izuku’s face heated up. This is such an inappropriate moment to think that way , he scolded himself. And thank god for the mask. Katsuki’s face was tucked tightly into Izuku’s shoulder, and with every free-falling swing his body shuddered. Oh . Izuku had forgotten he was deathly afraid of heights. They were only a few storeys up, but Izuku understood the feeling. He had wanted to puke when he first started swinging with these webs. Quickly, he found a safe street and landed carefully. They were only three minutes away from their own neighborhood now, and he knew the area to be quite safe. But even when they landed, Katsuki’s face was still buried into his neck, refusing to look up.

“K—” Izuku stopped himself short. “Hey dude. Are you okay?”

Katsuki’s eyes blinked open, once, twice, and then with a furious gesture he pushed Izuku away, as if he had not been the one unwilling to let go. The blond’s cheeks were burning . “Get the fuck off me!”

Izuku laughed, putting up both hands. “Just trying to help, man.”

Katsuki snarled, tugging at his shirt to straighten it. His hair was wind-swept and messy, and Izuku couldn’t help but find it—

Again , he scolded himself. Inappropriate .

“I could’ve taken care of those guys myself!” Katsuki scowled.

Izuku rolled his eyes. “You’re just a kid!”

“ Me ?” Katsuki jabbed an angry finger into his chest. “You fuckin’ sound prepubescent , bugboy.”

“It’s Spiderman .” Izuku said. He gently grabbed Katsuki’s arm, the one that was injured, drawing up the sleeve to reveal the cut. It was shallow, Izuku determined. No stitches needed. Thank god for that. “You should really get that bandaged up when you get home.”

“W—Whatever!” Katsuki yanked back his arm. Then, he spotted his webbed-up laptop in Izuku’s hand, so heavily layered that it almost looked like a white brick. “Shit! Fuck!”

“Oh yeah, here.” Izuku started to hand it to him, but it was immediately snatched from his grasp. “Might need some cleaning, though. Sorry about that.”

Katsuki grumbled, already trying to pick apart the webbing. It was notoriously strong. He’s heard complaints from news outlets that building owners or street cleaners found it to be a nuisance to get rid of. But what did they expect? It had to be durable enough to hold up body weight, after all.

“Is this made of something gross?”

“What?”

Katsuki angrily held up his laptop. “Your web shit.”

“No, I assure you my ‘web shit’ is completely hygienically produced.” Izuku laughed. “Don’t eat it though.” 

Katsuki glared, that same glare he would always give Izuku , not Spiderman . And for a moment he had the irrational thought that the blond might know . “Wasn’t gonna.”

It was too easy to lapse into his normal self when he was around Katsuki. He felt a ramble start to rise in his throat before he could stop it.

“I actually spent a long time perfecting its components!” Izuku chirped. “This thing has to be strong enough to hold up, like, a million times my weight, but its first prototype can't even hold down a fly! You wanna know what it's made of? It’s a fluid that’s comprised of salicylic acid, touline, carbon tetrachloride, potassium carbonate—” 

“Quit your nerd rambling.” Katsuki snapped.

Izuku shut up immediately. Oh god . He really needed to learn how to control himself.

When he snapped out of his internal scolding, Katsuki had already started to stomp away, footsteps heavy with annoyance. It was so dark out, maybe almost ten in the evening, and the streetlights fanned over Katsuki’s blond hair, the only bright thing in the entire street.

For a moment, Izuku was seized by the peculiar urge to tell him. To yank off his mask and scream ‘It’s me! It’s Deku! ’. But he held his tongue and just watched him leave. Someday, maybe, he could tell him. When it was safer. When Spiderman was more liked.

But why did he want to tell him so badly in the first place?

“Not even a thank you for your friendly neighborhood Spiderman?” Izuku called out teasingly. “Where are you going?”

“Why the fuck do you wanna know, creep?”

“You sure you can make it back home safe?”

Katsuki glanced back angrily and flipped him the bird. “Eat shit, bugboy.”

Bugboy . That was new. Izuku hadn’t even heard Katsuki use that against Spiderman in conversation before.

“O—kay.” Izuku drawled, already shooting out a web to swing away. “Don’t get mugged again next time!”

By the time Izuku had tipped the police on the muggers near Kaminari’s house, staying perched on the building above them until he made sure they got every single one of them, the clock was already striking four. He slipped back into his room by way of the window, terribly, terribly exhausted. Izuku didn’t even peel off his suit before collapsing on his bed.

Very quickly, before his eyes had the chance to shut, he pulled out his phone and checked his messages.

There were a ton from Katsuki. It looked like he had texted him as soon as he got home.

[KACCHAN]

holy fucking shit nerd

u wont believe what happened to me

yknow that dumb spider bitch yeah he like 

ok dont FUCKING SAY i told u so or i will literally block ur number i swear to god

i was gettin fuckin mugged and this bitch swooped in and beat the guy up 

coulda handled it myself bugboy gotta mind his own business but still

kinda cool but the guy is so annoying he’s a fuckin nerd like you

also his web is tough as shit been trying to scrape it off my laptop for like fuckin two hours now holy fuck i actually hate this dude

Izuku grinned, tugging at his blanket and drawing it up to his chin. With a yawn, he started typing up his response.

[deku]

kacchan wat r u talkin about that sounds so cool!!!!!

kiri would get jealous u know ur so ungrateful

did u get hurt??? are u okay???

also

I

TOLD

YOU

SO!!!!!!!!

(before u block me have u tried using vinegar??? spider webs dissolve in vinegar just a thought)

Izuku put the phone down and closed his eyes. But as tired as he was, his mind was still racing. The images of Katsuki’s shocked face, his widened eyes, the feeling of his body curled up against his, his flushed cheeks and messy hair. It was— what was it? Izuku couldn’t name the feeling. But it’s been there for as long as he could remember.

But it wasn’t just that . If it only came down to the nerves, he could just chalk it up to being excited that he saved a friend while being Spiderman, that he got to see their reaction up close. To doing a good thing that directly affected the people he cared about. He would react the same way if it was Kaminari, or Kirishima, or even Ochako, right? But there was also the memory of Katsuki’s fight in the alley before he intervened. The way he held his body in a low stance once he realized he was in trouble. The deep, serious rasp in his voice when he warned the men away. The strong ripple of biceps beneath his sleeves as he flipped the thief over his shoulder and onto the ground, easy as that. And Izuku was not a stranger to strength. God, he had even gotten muscles overnight after the spider bite. But Katsuki? He gained all that strength himself. And it was— it was—

Izuku grumbled and hauled himself up, forcing himself to change out of the Spiderman suit. He yanked the mask off of his head and was surprised to feel how hot his face was. Izuku took a few deep breaths, cupping his cheeks between his hands. In. Out. The moonlight that filtered into his room illuminated the mask in a silver sheen. He stared at the deep green latex in his hands. White and black web designs crawled around the face, dipping into his neck where the pattern continued to the rest of his body. 

What would Katsuki say, if he knew? Would he still say all those negative things about Spiderman? Would the resentment he sometimes showed Izuku only fester and worsen?

Would they still even be friends ?

It was hard having someone like Katsuki be one of the most important people in his life. He showed anger and affection in the same way. The same tone of voice, the same glare. But tonight, Izuku had seen what Katsuki looked like when he was truly angry. The deep cross of his brows. The way his eyes darkened. And he had never looked at Izuku that way. Not even once.

He tried not to overthink it.

His phone pinged again as he tugged on his pajamas and slipped into bed.

[KACCHAN]

how did u know that

fuckin nerd

Izuku huffed out a tired laugh, setting the phone on his bedside and cocooning himself in his blankets.

Next time, if Katsuki was in trouble, he would be more careful. Next time, he would not let him get a single scratch. And then he’d see how truly capable Spiderman was.

Izuku closed his eyes and quickly fell into bottomless sleep.

Chapter Text

It was the day before Katsuki’s big jujutsu nationals tournament, and Izuku was watching him practice from one of the raised benches on the sidelines.

Katsuki’s movements were sharp and fluid, rivaling the speed of even his sensei’s blocks and kicks. He was wearing one of the traditional white robes, tied together with a strip of fabric. They shifted with every flex of his muscles, the arc of a parry or a crouch. Smack. Smack. Smack. Their bare feet slapped the mat in rhythmic sync with every advancing move. On and on it went like this, and never once did Katsuki’s rigid stance waver. He was like a statue come to life. Immovable but graceful. 

Izuku was only here because he had begged Katsuki to let him watch him practice. What with his Spiderman duties piling up lately, they rarely had any time to hang out with each other after school. Izuku used to attend Katsuki’s practices all the time. Hell, when they were five, Izuku was on the mat with him when Katsuki attended his first ever jujutsu class. His mom had only allowed him to take it as long as Izuku was coming, too. That only lasted six months at best. Katsuki, on the other hand, never stopped. Izuku could never understand how he could move his body like that. He was far too awkward and loose-limbed. Every one of his attacks were either too slow or badly aimed, and every one of their spars always ended up with him on the floor and Katsuki’s foot on his stomach, laughing in victory.

Then again, he’s never tried picking it up after he got his new spidey-reflexes.

The practice went on and on and on. On days like these, Katsuki could end up staying for six hours straight, sparring with his sensei or anyone who volunteered to tap him out— which wasn’t very often, since Katsuki was a notoriously formidable and merciless force. Sweat ran down his forehead in rivulets as his scowl deepened with every jab. Smack . His sensei went down. Smack . Again and again. Izuku was growing tired just watching them fight. Well, maybe it was also because he only had four hours of sleep the previous night. Another late burglary call. Another victim to one of those serial stabbings. He had to get to the bottom of that soon. It seemed that no matter what he did, he always came just a minute late, and ended up having to tend to the victim instead of catching the criminal.

Leaning back against the bench, his eyes started to drift shut. There was a notebook open on his lap— one of a series that he kept of Katsuki’s jujutsu training. He’s been tracking the blond’s progress since the first time he started. When they were younger, it would take only a few weeks to fill a notebook— packed with Izuku’s observations and analyses of Katsuki’s development, new moves, heightened speed, even stamina. It was what made him feel like he contributed to their friendship, even a little bit. To his eyes as a five year old, seeing Katsuki tear at the other boys in his classes, his insurmountable progress— it felt like watching a hero in the making.

And oh how the tables have turned.

“Oi.” Izuku felt someone shake his shoulder. “Oi, Deku!”

“Wha—” He jolted awake, the notebook slipping from his lap. With one hand rubbing at his sleep-sticky eyes, he fumbled to catch it.  “Oh, sorry Kacchan.”

Katsuki gave him a look. He was still in his white jujutsu robe, chest heaving as if he had just gotten off the mat. “You good?”

“I’m fine.” He yawned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“What the fuck is up with you lately?”

Izuku shrugged. “Just tired.”

Katsuki scowled as he dropped into the seat beside him, reaching into his training bag to grab a bottle and a towel. He wiped his face with one hand and chugged the water with the other. Some strands of his blond hair stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat and messy from movement. Izuku had to look away so he wouldn’t watch the way his adam’s apple bobbed with every swallow.

“I asked you a question.” Katsuki said after a while, throwing his empty bottle to the side in search of another.

Izuku tilted his head. “What was it?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, flopping back on the bench. “Never fuckin’ mind.”

“No!” Izuku cried, flipping the notebook shut and scooching closer to the blond. “Tell me!”

“Stop that shit.” Katsuki grumbled when Izuku started to reach for his arm.

“Tell me Kacchan!”

“Fine, quit your whining!” Katsuki snatched his arm away and blew out a frustrated breath. His cheeks were still bright red from practice, but Izuku could have sworn that the red tinge deepened when the blond looked away, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “My jujutsu nationals are tomorrow.”

Izuku blinked. “Of course I know that!”

Katsuki stared at him, obviously expecting him to understand just from those five simple words.

And Izuku did know what this was about. They go through this every time Katsuki has a tournament of some sort, local or national or international. He would mumble the question and Izuku wouldn’t catch it, then the blond would look away and huff, and if Izuku was lucky, he would repeat it. Katsuki wouldn’t even ask until it was the day before the event. Flushed face. An annoyed, grumpy scowl. The signature Katsuki way of asking what he deemed was a stupid, too-personal question.

Izuku has always found it endearing.

“That’s not a question, Kacchan.” He prodded.

“Fuck!” Katsuki exclaimed, throwing his towel at him. “You’re doing this on purpose!”

“Gross!” Izuku giggled as he peeled the strip of fabric off of his face. “I just wanna hear you say it!”

In the end, Katsuki relented, but his voice was only a hushed mumble. “Are you comin’ or what.”

Izuku grinned. He’d take it. “I already bought tickets two weeks ago, you don’t have to worry.”

“I wasn’t fuckin’ worried!” Katsuki yelled, snatching the towel back from him as if he had not been the one to throw it in the first place.  “Don’t care if you’re not coming!”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

One by one, the other jujutsu students started leaving the training area, even most of the teachers. Izuku knew who most of them were as a result of being here all the time, and they, in turn, also knew who he was. The timid, nerdy-looking kid who was always with the explosive prodigy. He even knew some of their names, and when they caught him alone while Katsuki was on the mat, they would even try to strike up a conversation with him. It would always be about Katsuki’s training regiment, if he had any secrets he could spill, or why in the world he would ever be friends with a boy like him. Some of them waved at him as they left, and Izuku reciprocated with one of his own. 

But they never waved at Katsuki.

After a while, it was only the two of them left in the facility. Torino-sensei was the last one to go, giving them both a nod as he exited. He had been Katsuki’s first jujutsu teacher, and by extension Izuku’s as well in those first six months. Izuku had even heard that he had taught an All Might stunt double some martial arts for a fight sequence, and the movie in turn ended up being one of the highest-grossing hero films in the entire world. He was old and gruff and sometimes mean. But he knew Katsuki wouldn’t have it any other way. He didn’t thrive from softness. Like the toughest of minerals, Katsuki had to be compressed in order to become stronger.

Izuku smiled as he slouched on the bench. “You sure beat the crap out of Torino-sensei today.”

Katsuki grunted as he stood, stretching out his arms and legs in quick, experienced poses. Izuku shot him a confused look. Was he about to train again ? They had already been here for six hours today! Surely some rest was required for tomorrow’s tournament?

“Everyone’s goin’ home. They’re letting me close up.” Katsuki said, his voice echoing throughout the entire training area, which was now so quiet that it might as well be abandoned. “Wanna spar?”

He did this sometimes. He’d ask Izuku to spar, knowing he wouldn’t stand a single chance. Sometimes Izuku thought it was some sort of morbid coping mechanism for when the blond felt anxious. Something that gave himself a little burst of confidence every time Izuku hit the mat hard, not even being able to stand his ground for one minute. But Katsuki hasn’t really asked for a sparring match lately. Not in the past year, at least.

Not since Izuku got the spider bite.

Izuku’s sense of strength was different now. He hasn’t really put the hypothesis up for a test, but he had a feeling that  he could beat Katsuki in a fight if he wanted to. He was much more agile, more nimble, more quick on his feet. All the things he simply wasn’t before the spider bite. It was better to say no. He wasn’t exactly in control of his strength. What if he accidentally used too much force, showed off too much of his newfound powers? Katsuki would find that suspicious for sure.

“I don’t know, Kacchan.” Izuku made a point to sigh laboriously. “I’m feeling a bit tired today.”

Katsuki shot him a look. “Fine.” He muttered. “Big baby.”

Izuku sat up from his slouch, narrowing his eyes. “You’re just trying to goad me into fighting you.”

“I’m not.” Katsuki smirked. “Don’t care. Not like you can beat me anyway.”

“Of course I can’t.” Izuku lied. “That’s not even fair . You’re the top jujutsu fighter in the country! Well, in our age group, anyway.”

“I will become number one. Fuck age groups!” Katsuki cried. He jabbed an over-confident finger in his direction. “Just you fuckin’ watch .”

Well, that flared something in Izuku’s chest. Competitiveness . His lips twisted in thought. All his life he had been tossed around by Katsuki, always the weakling, always the one having to fold. Katsuki wasn’t exactly gracious about it at all, and Izuku had let it slide most of the time, not just because he was his best friend but also because he simply couldn’t do anything about it. But now? Now that he was Spiderman? A new opportunity presented itself in front of him. He could prove that he could be strong. When else was he going to get this chance?

“Fine.” Izuku balled his hands into fists. “Fine. One round.”

“Fucking finally .” Katsuki hooted, immediately turning around and assuming a starting stance, like he had been expecting it all along. “I’m gonna beat your ass.”

Izuku stood up from the bench and pried off his socks and shoes. His feet still remembered how the mat felt. They used to burn the pads of his feet whenever he tried to resist Katsuki's strong, insistent pushes. As a child, being slammed onto a padded surface still hurt like crap. He would always cry and cry after every spar. But now, as he stared at Katsuki’s smirking face, all he could think of was trying to regain some semblance of victory for his younger self. He balled his hands into fists as he mirrored the blond’s stance. Don’t win , he told himself. Knock him down once, but don’t win.

“This is gonna be too fuckin’ easy.” Katsuki said, smugly.

Izuku tamped down his smile. “Sure it is.”

“Three… Two…” Katsuki announced. “One!”

Izuku had expected Katsuki to pounce on him. He was always an impatient fighter, always making the first brash move. But he must’ve felt a shift with Izuku’s demeanor today. Because instead of charging forward, they were both moving in circles around each other, both of their fists curled tight, neither of them sure what the other was doing.

“Come on, Deku!” Katsuki growled in frustration after a while. “Come and fi—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Izuku barrelled forward, one splayed hand ready to push Katsuki in the middle of his chest in an attempt to knock him back. But of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Katsuki tilted his shoulders and retaliated with a punch that Izuku blocked with his forearm. Then, he jumped back, trying to regain his ground.

“You’ve learned a thing or two from watching me fight, huh?” His chest heaved as he spoke, bringing up a hand to wipe a bead of sweat that started to trickle to his jaw. “Come on, then.”

Izuku leapt forward with a cry. Every quick swipe was only parried. Katsuki’s muscles felt rigid under his skin as they kept each other away. Punch. Barred. Punch. Barred. After sensing Izuku’s frustration, Katsuki began to take a more offensive approach. He crept closer, taking jabs at Izuku’s stomach so that he would keel over. But every thrust of his fist missed. Izuku crouched, ducked, even jumped to avoid the attacks. It felt like second nature at this point to move so fluidly. It was as if the air made space for his body to move, his muscles simply kicking in to guide him. There was no real thinking as he sidestepped, as he twisted his torso.

Katsuki’s brows began to furrow. Izuku dropped back, scolding himself. Too much. He had to dial it back. Let the blond get some punches in. After all, these sparring matches usually ended in ten seconds flat. For Izuku to still be standing right now should be considered a miracle. So the next time Katsuki charged at him, Izuku would let it happen. 

Until the blond opened his cocky mouth.

“Gotta hand it to you nerd, this is the longest you’ve ever lasted.” Katsuki grinned. “So let’s end this quickly.”

Izuku felt the blond wrangle his arm behind his back. Katsuki was draped over him, bracing the small of his back, and with one fluid motion Izuku felt him begin to lift . The infamous flip. The one move that usually signaled the end of the match. Izuku was not going to let that happen. He grabbed onto Katsuki’s robes, digging into the fibrous fabric. He allowed himself to be lifted, but tightened his core and curled his body once gravity tried to do its work. With a kick of one of his feet that still remained on the ground and a twist of his arms, he did what was a combination between a somersault and some sort of reverse flip. With a sharp smack , it was Katsuki who hit the ground instead.

Izuku straddled Katsuki’s chest, hunkering down so he wouldn’t move. He had flipped him solely from the grip he hand on the blond’s robes, which in result was now slightly untied, revealing a portion of his pale upper chest, the rising and falling definition of his clavicles as he sucked in deep, angry breaths. Izuku forced himself not to stare at the upward tilt of his chin, the sharpness of his jaw. 

“What the fuck ?” Katsuki spat out breathlessly, scowling.

Izuku grinned, leaning down so their noses almost touched. “Don’t get too cocky, Kacchan.”

This was enough for Izuku. Seeing the blond on the ground and knowing that he had put him there, seeing his genuine scowl that only came from losing. Izuku rose, ready to call the match over, but he was stopped by a pair of rough hands that dug into his shoulders. In one fluid motion their positions were reversed. There was no grace or mercy in this retaliation. The back of his head hit the mat hard . Suddenly, his hazy vision was filled with Katsuki’s piercing glare. Izuku’s breath hitched.

He was way too close. He could feel the blond’s breath fan over his lips.

“You little shit!” Katsuki snarled, only pushing their faces closer. “When did you—”

In a panic, Izuku pushed him off. He probably shouldn’t have. The force of it sent Katsuki falling onto his back, but he quickly stood back up, already lowering himself into a starting pose again.

“Sorry, Kacchan—”

“Have you been holding off on me?!” Katsuki stomped over to him and grabbed him by the collar, hauling him up to his feet. “Have you been pretending that you—”

“No!” Izuku said hurriedly, holding up both hands. “No, it was just luck! I didn’t know how I—”

Katsuki pushed him backwards, sending him a few paces back. An acceptable distance for another starting round.

“Fight.” Katsuki snarled as he held up his fists. “Come on, fight!”

Izuku had taken it too far. Katsuki knew something was up. Nervously, he assumed the starting stance, and almost immediately the blond charged forward. Izuku let himself take it. He slowed his movements and took every swipe. One to his shoulder, that knocked him back. One to his stomach, that  he forced himself to keel over convincingly. And one to his back, which only gave Katsuki a chance to grab onto his arm. None of it had hurt. After the spider bite, Izuku’s body had begun to feel like it was made of stronger stuff than flesh. With one swift flip, just like in the alley, Katsuki flipped him over his shoulder and Izuku’s body arced to the side, landing heavily on his back. He groaned, just to sell the act.

Katsuki crouched down beside him, grabbing his collar again to raise his head from the mat. Izuku winced at the tight pressure of his shirt around his neck.

“Have you been training behind my back?!” Katsuki yelled.

Izuku shook his head. “No, I haven't!” 

Katsuki looked down. Izuku’s shirt had ridden up when he landed. Before he could tug it back down, the blond grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“You have abs .”

“I—I’ve just been working out! That’s all!”

Katsuki only tugged on his collar harder, bringing their faces closer. “Bullshit! You don’t do fuck all except play video games!”

At this, Izuku couldn’t help but laugh. The sound erupted out of his lips, his head tilted back as he tried to catch his breath. He didn’t know what was so funny . Katsuki’s face was more bewildered than angry, red eyes wide like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. For the first time in their friendship, Izuku felt like they were finally on the same playing field. Like he had garnered a bit of respect. Katsuki’s fist trembled where he held the collar of Izuku’s shirt.

“What’s so fucking funny ?”

Izuku shook his head, the last of the laughter petering from his lips. He made a point of looking straight into Katsuki’s narrowed eyes. “You don’t know everything about me, Kacchan.” He said challengingly, voice low. “I can keep secrets, too.”

Katsuki’s face flushed a deeper red than it already was. Immediately, he released the grip he had on Izuku’s shirt, making his head drop back onto the mat with a thud . Before Izuku could even sit up, Katsuki was already stalking away towards the benches.

“Whatever.” Katsuki muttered. “Still beat you.”

Izuku rubbed the back of his head and winced. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Now you owe me a drink.” Katsuki called out to him.

“Are we seriously still doing that?” Izuku groaned. It was an old tradition they established when they were kids, back when buying a small can of soda seemed like a luxurious thing. It was honestly more of a way for Katsuki to squeeze free drinks out of him more than anything. “ Fine .” Izuku rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

Katsuki shrugged when Izuku joined him on the bench. “Don’t want anything.”

“You’re so annoying sometimes.” Izuku slouched. He took the spare towel Katsuki threw at him and stuck it onto his face. “I’ll get you a pocari before your match tomorrow.”

“Whatever.”

Izuku peeled the towel off his eyes and spared the blond a glance. He was sulking. Actually sulking . Pouted lips and all. Izuku laughed and nudged him on the side.

“Hey,” he said, grinning when their eyes met, “I did pretty good, right?”

Katsuki glared at him, and looked away with a huff. “Not as good as me .”

It was the next day now, two hours before Katsuki’s jujutsu tournament. Izuku was getting ready for it in his room.

Katsuki himself should be in the venue right now. He knew there were a lot of debriefing procedures, warm-up practices, and slot allocations that had to be done before the actual matches could proceed. Izuku set an alarm to leave thirty minutes before the event was set to start. Right now he was bent over on the floor of his room, hands sticky with glitter and paint, focused on making a banner to hold up in the stands. It was quintessential . He had been doing it since Katsuki’s first ever competition. The blond had scolded him at first, face red and indignant as Izuku held up his five-year-old scribbles. But over the years he’s adapted to ignoring it altogether.

His phone pinged beside him with Katsuki’s text ringtone. He wiped his hands off on his shirt before checking.

[KACCHAN]

almost at tournament

dont forget the pocari nerd u owe me

Izuku frowned. Katsuki was running late . Not that it was a surprise. The blond always acted like the whole event would wait for him until he arrived— which, Izuku guessed, was kind of true . He was the person most people showed up to watch.

[deku]

i wont!!!!

i’ll get it omw there

good luck kacchan!!!! in case i dont get the chance to see u before the match

ur gonna do awesome!!!

[KACCHAN]

fuck yeah i am

Izuku rolled his eyes with a smile, putting his phone aside.

The banner-making continued for about another fifteen minutes before his phone lit up again. With a call, this time. Was it Katsuki? Did he get lost? It was a relatively big arena, after all, one that they’ve never been to before. Izuku got up from the floor and stretched the paper out to dry before picking up his phone.

It was Ochako, of all people. Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed. Did he forget that he had something planned with her today?

He picked up the call with a quick swipe.

“Hel—”

“ Izuku! ” Ochako cried from the other line. “ Are you seeing this?! ”

Izuku placed his phone between his shoulders and his ear. His hands were still sticky with glue. He went to the bathroom to wash them. “Seeing what?”

“ The news! ” Ochako huffed. “ Izuku, turn on your TV right now! ”

Izuku froze.

That could not mean anything good.

He scrambled downstairs to the living room, nearly tripping over his feet in his haste. His mom was out doing errands, so he could make all the noise he wanted without her shooting him a disapproving look. Izuku dug around for the remote before flipping to a news channel.

“ —villains spotted in the Shibuya area. Reporters on-site confirm that a black-suited man and a blonde schoolgirl are opening fire on the crowd. What at first seemed to be bullets are actually little explosive capsules, each detonating in a matter of seconds. We bring you live footage of the destruction on the infamously busy crossing. ”

The screen widened to a live feed of the Shibuya crossing. People ran across a gridlocked street, cars and buses abandoned in the middle of the road with their doors splayed open in haste. Craters littered the ground in varying shapes. They were deep enough for a grown man to curl in, to fall through and have trouble climbing out. The two villains were shooting their projectiles from above a five-storey building. The girl was ejecting hers carelessly, no rhyme or rhythm to where the bombs landed. Boom . Chunks of pavement flew through the air, raining on the backs of fleeing people. Boom . An already smoking car exploded, the resulting heat flare prominent enough to show up on camera. 

The black-suited man, however, shot calculated strikes. He targeted clusters in the crowd where most people huddled. It was like a morbid game of cat and mouse, except there was no real place to run. Cars and buses blocked the streets. There was a police helicopter flying too close to the villains, and the girl simply aimed her weapon at them and shot it down, cackling maniacally. 

Izuku gaped at the screen. He’s dealt with villains before. Not criminals, but villains . Terrorists. These evildoers who dressed up and picked a random busy street with their newest havoc-wrecking tech, treating crowds like their personal test subjects. But Izuku was not afraid. Already his brain was thinking up ways on how to get up to the villains, how to restrain them. It was a one hour effort at best. He looked down at his phone, at the time printed in tiny numbers at the edge of his screen.

The problem was that it was already two-thirty .

“Oh crap , Ochako, what am I gonna do ?”

“ You don’t have to fight them if you don’t want to. ” Ochako said, mistaking his panic for fear. “ It looks pretty dangerous, Izuku, maybe you should leave this up to the police— ”

“No, no! That’s not what I’m worried about!” Izuku paced back and forth in his living room, raking his hand through his hair. “Kacchan’s jujutsu finals are in two hours and I have to be there! And if I go, I can’t bring my change of clothes with me! I can’t bring the banner! What am I gonna do, show up as Spiderman ?!”

Ochako’s line went silent for a moment. Izuku was just about to bring his phone away from his face to see if the call had disconnected before her voice exploded through the speaker again.

“ Are you kidding me right now?! ”

“No, Ochako, I’m very serious!”

Ochako sighed. “ I don’t think you should go fight these guys. ” She tried to reason with him. “ Izuku, you know I love you, and you’re strong, but these are explosions — ”

And that was when he caught something on screen. Just as the camera cut from the reporter’s face to another angle, showing the rows and rows of people who were stuck on the sidelines with nowhere to go, he saw a familiar head of spiky hair, scowling up at the gruesome scene. Izuku’s heart stopped in his chest. What was Katsuki doing in Shibuya? He was already running late, for god’s sake! But then he caught sight of a smoking bus in the background, stopped in the middle of the road as if abandoned. Katsuki’s bus route must’ve cut through Shibuya in order to get to the tournament venue. 

Izuku's hand twitched for his suit.

“Screw it.” He hissed into his phone, running upstairs to his room. “I’m going!”

“ Izuku, wait —”

Ochako was only going to try and convince him to stay, so he hung up the call and tugged on his suit. He spared one look at the banner, still drying as it was propped up against his wall. Crap . He would just have to hope that there was enough time to come back to get it and change. There was no way he could carry anything while he was fighting villains, after all. With one last yank of his mask —making one final check to make sure his door was locked, he wouldn’t want his mom walking in on all his Spiderman gadgets— he was out the window, swinging between street lights and buildings alike. 

The wind felt sturdy as it encased his body, like a hand guiding him through the air, making sure he landed all his flips and arcs. It only took ten minutes to get to Shibuya with a shortcut. There was chaos in every square inch of this place. Some people were still trapped in the middle of the crossing, barricaded in by abandoned vehicles and debris. Others were hurt and carried off to the side where the bystanders were. Craters sunk into the ground, some of them still steaming with heat. Every few seconds or so explosions shook the pavements. Izuku looked up, and there the villains were, high and unreachable on top of some sort of recreational building. He landed near where the police cars were parked.

“Are the people in there evacuated?” Izuku asked one of the officers on standby, pointing to the building. He only gaped at him like he had three heads. “Sir! Are the people evacuated!”

“A—Uh—” The man stammered. “Ye—Yes, Spiderman. Sir.”

“Oh, you don’t have to call me sir.” Izuku waved his hands, suddenly feeling sheepish and guilty. “I’m sorry for raising my voice!”

Izuku hopped up on a streetlight and scaled the side of an adjacent building. He had to make his ascent to the villains soon, but first he made a cursory scan through the crowd. Almost every one of them were looking at him, exclaiming and pointing as if an explosive couldn’t be lobbed at them at any second. But still, Izuku couldn’t find who he was looking for. He squinted. No, no, no . Quickly, he climbed onto the other side, finding higher ground.

And then he saw him. Blond spiky hair standing off to the side, looking straight in his direction. Katsuki . And he looked to be perfectly safe. The knot in Izuku’s chest relaxed and dissipated. There was a sort of surprise and bewilderment in those red eyes that bordered on— what was that? Relief ? It only lasted until Katsuki realized that they had made eye contact and looked away with a huff. Izuku grinned under his mask. It didn’t look like the blond was making any move to leave the area. Not that there was anywhere to go. But Izuku didn’t like the way all these people were so exposed, out in the open. He guessed it was better than lying in wait in some building, where an explosive could hit at any second and they would be suffocated in rubble. This would have to do for now.

Izuku climbed further up the building, jumping between structures to gain some ground on the villains. They hadn’t noticed him yet. He had to approach from the back in order not to be seen. The last thing he wanted was to be targeted by their bombs while swinging in mid air. He circled around the block of buildings, scaling from window to window until he reached the one where the two villains were standing. The explosions sounded much closer now. They erupted from the rooftop like morbid fireworks. Boom . It detonated somewhere near ground level, a crackle of debris spraying upwards in its wake. Boom . The second storey of an adjacent building was hit, flurrying smoke and cracked shrapnels of glass. Some of it grazed his suit, little lances of red blooming across his body. He barely felt it now. His singular focus was on getting up on the rooftop.

When he finally leapt up onto the ledge, the back-suited villain’s response was instantaneous. Immediately, Izuku had a weapon trained on him. This hulking caricature of a rifle, so bulky and retrofitted that it looked huge even in the tall villain’s arms. He was masked, too. The upper half of his covering was a sleek gray material, while the bottom half was black, accentuating where his nose and cheekbones started. The fabric shifted in what Izuku could only assume was a scowl.

“Whoa!” Izuku raised both of his hands in mock surrender, straightening up from his landing crouch. “Hey there, guys! Is there a party up here?”

The schoolgirl whipped around. Immediately, the first thing Izuku noticed was her hair. A dull blond color that was similar to Katsuki’s, tied up in twin buns atop her head. She would have seemed totally innocent if it weren’t for the deranged grin that stretched across her features, splitting her youthful face in half. Now, she only looked eerily out of place, though the giant weapon looked as comfortable as a pen in her hands.

“Look, Twice!” She squealed, pointing at him in glee as if her partner had not been the one to spot him first. “It’s that Spiderman!”

The man only heaved a tired sigh. “Oh, god .”

She came skipping up to him, her hands curled into excitable fists as she went all up in his space. Izuku reeled back as her nose almost touched his.

“Can we keep him?” She batted her eyelashes.

The man merely turned around and continued firing the explosives. “No, Toga! You can watch him on your phone!”

“ Oh but it’s not the same!” She whined. Her free hand came up to trace the line of his jaw, something sinister gleaming in her yellow eyes. For a moment, Izuku’s chest seized with a shudder. This girl was creepy .  “You look more handsome in real life, Spidey .”

“Uh.” He leaned away from her touch. “Thanks?”

When she reached out to pinch his cheeks, Izuku vaulted away, landing on his haunches closer to the masked man. The energy here was weird .  None of them made a move to attack. None of them even seemed the slightest bit perplexed to see him. In fact, the blond girl had sounded excited . They simply turned back around, reloading more of the explosives from a pack strapped to their backs. A sense of frustration bubbled within him.

Izuku shot out two jets of webbing. Both landed on the muzzles of each of their bomb rifles, sealing the opening shut. He did two more layers for good measure. Izuku didn’t actually know how well his web fluid stood up to gunfire, but by the persistent clicks of the masked man’s trigger, it seemed momentarily jammed. 

He let out a frustrated breath, finally turning around to face him. “I assume you’re not here to join us.”

Izuku scowled. “No way .”

The masked man aimed the barrel at him. Now, instead of short, intermittent presses, he held down on the trigger. The muzzle started to glow an angry red. “Well, that’s a shame. Toga here is a big fan.”

Before he could even finish his sentence, the projectile shot through the webbing. Izuku barely had enough time to jump away. The explosion caved in a part of the rooftop, its steel structure now steaming and exposed. A few more of those and the ground would cave in beneath them.

Izuku grinned.

Now the fight was really on.

Izuku pounced at the masked man first, his wrist already extended. “It’s always nice to meet a fan!” 

With a quick thwip , he webbed the man’s forearm and yanked him forward. He stumbled, but only for a few paces, before he pulled back on the string and forced Izuku closer, dragging him in the line of fire. With a quick press of the trigger, another explosive was launched. Izuku’s reflexes kicked in. He webbed the projectile in mid-air and threw it as hard as he could into the sky, string still attached and all. Boom . The cartridge exploded above them like fireworks. The three of them ducked onto the ground as the heat blazed on their backs.

Izuku staggered onto his feet as he heard the man cackle.

“That’s what I’m talking about !” The man roared. He angled his gun out past the ledge, into the looming crowd below. Izuku didn’t need to see his face to know that he was grinning. “Let’s see you catch all of them, Spiderman!”

In short, intermittent bursts, he opened fire into the sky. Izuku couldn’t have jumped fast enough. 

He leapt off the building. 

For a moment, his body felt weightless, free-falling to the ground. It sounded cliche, but with his spider senses, time seemed to slow like molasses. He angled his body outwards and recalled the rhythm of the shots. Du-dum, du-dum, dum . Five this way. Dum, du-dum, dum . Four the opposite. With both arms splayed in either directions, he aimed for each individual bomb. Each web shot found purchase. 

All nine of them were attached to his hands now. He brought his arms up, swinging the pods together, and wrapped them in a nest. Four seconds until detonation , his brain told him. Three until you hit the ground . There was barely enough time to fling them into the sky. But he couldn’t let them touch the street. There were too many in one place. The whole crossing would blow. And Katsuki was in the crowd, for god’s sake!

Katsuki .

With a cry, Izuku drew back his arms and swung them forward, putting all his force behind the throw. In an arc, the bombs launched into the sky. An unremarkable web of white. But just a second later, they detonated in the air. Izuku fell to the ground just in time to roll and cover his face, curling into the concrete as the landing jolted all his joints. When he recovered, looking up, he noticed that he had not thrown it as high as he would like. The windows of surrounding buildings shattered from the explosion. None of them had actually hit, but the impact still reverberated. At least no one was hurt , he told himself as he looked around, meeting the eyes of wide-eyed civilians. He willed himself back on his feet, staggering to a stand. On top of their perch, the two villains were cackling.

“That was impressive , Spidey!” The blonde girl crooned at him when he scaled back up to the rooftop, clasping her hands to her face.

Alright. 

Izuku has had enough of their games.

He didn’t let his body stop moving for a second. With a charged jump, he aimed a web at the masked man’s arms, trying to make him drop the weapon. But he was too quick. It seemed like their reflexes were on par with each other’s. Every deployed line was dodged, every punch and kick missed. The man was actually laughing as Izuku continued to advance on to him. He fired another bomb, which Izuku flung to the sky again. One more, and Izuku only managed to kick it upwards. Some of the blast swept the surface of the ground. Soon, the rooftop became a mess of webs and debris. It only made for more obstacles as Izuku jumped from corner to corner. Less space to land.

Izuku scowled as he held onto his right arm. He could feel a burning sensation, sharp and lingering. When he looked down, the upper sleeve of his suit had singed. Sweltered from a blast. 

He didn’t have time to be shocked by it. Never had he ever had his suit ruined by a villain before. None of these two maniacs’ caliber had simply showed up in Tokyo. Izuku dodged another bomb, this time deployed by the cackling girl. He was too weak now to redirect them, too slow to react. These villains weren’t human , Izuku thought in a panic. At least, not entirely. Their reflexes were entirely too quick. Their strength too matched with his own.

“What a shame, Spidey.” The girl crooned, pouting as she aimed the barrel at him. “We woulda made a perfect duo.”

“Hey!” The masked man snapped.  “I’m right here , y’know!”

Izuku stumbled onto his feet. He had to focus up. They knew they were close to finishing him off, but he simply couldn’t let that happen. He had to do something .

Izuku watched as they pulled out more cartridges from their packs. Long and serpent-like and segmented. They fed into a slot at the side of their guns. There were maybe ten bombs in each strip, if the individual red pods told him anything.

Bags . Izuku straightened back up and took a deep breath. He had to get their bags .

“I like you guys.” Izuku laughed with fake bravado. He wiped at the blood he could feel trickle from his nose, though it didn’t do much with the mask in the way. God , he wished he could take it off. “Usually people just tell me to shut up!”

“Now why would they do that?” The girl cooed at him. “You have a wonderful voice, Spidey.”

She pulled the trigger.

Izuku somersaulted over her head, landing in a crouch behind her. The bomb that she just shot exploded with a deafening boom , taking out a quarter of the rooftop. She had obviously expected him to catch it as another means of distraction. But Izuku knew he had to let that one hit if he was going to catch them off-guard. With both wrists extended, he webbed at the pack strapped onto her back, and with a forceful yank he pulled . It was tied around her middle, so she was forced to move, too. The girl cried as she hit the ground, and Izuku took that time to rip the strap from her shoulders as well as the gun she had just let go, holding both up in the air and leaping away. 

“Sorry, miss.” He apologized once they gained some distance. “I don’t think you’re my type!”

The masked man hurried at once to her side, pulling her up. Izuku found it odd that he didn’t bother trying to fire at him. Maybe he knew that the both of them would only blow up to smithereens. 

Izuku strapped the bag onto himself, throwing the gun over the edge. He looked down and saw it shatter, loose parts smashing to smithereens as it made impact five storeys below. He didn’t want to do the same to the pack. He was afraid it might blow up upon hitting the ground, or the masked man would simply make a move to grab it. And Izuku didn’t want the villains going any nearer to the crowd below them.

Grinning maliciously, the girl stood back up, holding her head like she had hit it when she fell. A trickle of blood ran past her blond hairline. For a moment, Izuku felt almost guilty. But only one look down at the chaos below reminded him not to be. 

“Oh c’mon, Spidey, don’t be like that!” The girl whined. She hopped over the eight foot hole on the rooftop that separated them in an easy, clean arc. The masked man only watched her advance, his stance casual as he crossed his arms over his chest. Why wasn’t he doing anything? And why did he look so nonchalant? Izuku tried to back away, but there was only a free fall waiting for him a few paces behind.

That didn’t bother him. He’ll just have to fight. Villains were villains, even if they were girls who looked his age.

The girl’s mouth split into a devilish grin. They were only a few feet away from each other now. Izuku dropped into a fighting stance, hands curled into fists in front of him. This only seemed to please her even more. She reached into her pockets for— what was that? Something long and thin glinted in the sunlight. One in each of her hand.

“Give me back my toy !” She cried, before lunging at him.

Izuku jumped away, running along the ledge to evade her quick strikes. She leapt after him, giggling all the while. The way she moved was so spritely, in concentrated little bursts, like she had rockets attached to her feet. Slash. She nearly sliced open his leg. Slash. A gash opened at his side, just above his ribs. It was shallow but it still stung.

“You think I don’t have more tricks up my sleeve?” She cackled as she hopped from one pile of debris to another. “I actually prefer knives to that thing!”

Izuku aimed his webs at her hands, trying to capture the long, thin blades, but each time one of them attached, she simply cut them away with an effortless flick of her wrist. What were those things made of? Was it the sharpness of her blades, or the strength of her slashes? Izuku didn’t even pay any attention to the masked man anymore as he tunneled all his focus on the girl. He webbed her ankle, yanking, and she had actually fallen over. But it only took a quick second for her to cut it away and stand upright again.

Izuku used that moment, when she was looking down and not at him, to web up both her blades. Thwip, thwip, thwip . In an instant, the sharpened sides were covered up, no longer able to slice. The girl looked at them in confusion, trying to swipe the two against each other to cut the webs away, but Izuku only did it again and again. Thwip . This time, he webbed them up and yanked them away. The blades landed in his hands, completely useless now. 

The girl let out a childish cry of frustration.

“C’mon, Toga!” The masked man said, almost immediately, as if he expected this outcome. When Izuku looked up at him, he had taken off his pack, holding it by the strap on one finger as if he was afraid to touch it, clutching something else on the other hand. “No use staying here if you can’t have your fun.”

The girl gathered herself, sniffling into her oversized sweater. From its too-long sleeves she pulled something out. Something small and gray and square.

“Just a second!” She called out to him. Then, she fixed her yellow gaze on Izuku, smiling sweetly. “Here, Spidey. A little present from me to you.”

Izuku looked back and forth between the both of them, confused by this sudden turn of events. Were they retreating? Had they given up ? No, Izuku has only ever fought them this once but even he knew that was unlikely behavior. Before he could say anything back, they pressed down on the things they had in their hands in tandem.

The bag in the masked man’s hand started beeping.

The one on his back, too.

“What is that?!” Izuku finally found his voice, yelling after them. “What did you do ?!”

The girl followed after the man, coming closer to the ledge that faced away from the crossing. They looked ready to jump down. Five storeys down. The masked man flung his bag at Izuku’s direction. As it came to an arc over his head, Izuku shot out a web to catch it.  

“This has been fun!” The girl pouted. “But we gotta go!”

She jumped down first. Izuku couldn’t see her, blocked by the dip of the building and debris. But he could hear little pop, pop, pops following her descent. No, ascent , because at the next second he could see her head peek over the building, and then the rest of her. Izuku’s eyes widened. She was flying . No, not flying, hovering . Attached to her feet were boots that made explosions every so often, not unlike the ones made from their guns. Every step she took was accentuated by them, keeping her afloat.

“See you around, kid.” The man waved. “Or maybe not.”

And then he, too, jumped down.

Izuku didn’t have time to gape after their retreating figures, lacing between buildings in mid-air, making their escape. He clawed at his back, stripping off the bag from his shoulders. It was still beeping, and he watched enough action movies to know what that meant.

He didn’t know how much time he had left. Every passing second was wasted the longer he stared down at the bags. Below him, the crowd began to stir, no doubt seeing that the villains had gone, and curious as to why Spiderman had not come down yet. Izuku’s shaking fingers pried open the bag. There were strips of ammo, just like he thought there would be, but nestled at the bottom of each bag was a small explosive. Well, it seemed small, but there were still around forty bomb capsules in each bag, and Izuku didn’t have to be an expert to know that the detonation of that small bomb would set off all the rest, too. It would be more than enough to take out the entire crossing .

There was a timer on it.

Fifty six seconds.

What the hell was he going to do ?

There was no time to think. Izuku could only do what he had been doing so far. Fling it up as high as he could to the sky and hope for the best. No, this time, he had to throw it from the highest point he could to achieve maximum height. Izuku looked around. There was an office tower beside him. Twenty storeys at best. Was he going to make it?

He looked down at the crossing, at the people there who crawled like ants, still safely behind police barricades. Clueless.

Katsuki might still be in the crowd.

He had to make it.

“Get down!” Izuku yelled at the top of his lungs as he started to climb. He saw the civilians drop to the ground in a ripple, confused but obedient.

Izuku hoped they would stay that way for the next fifty seconds.

His muscles burned as he scaled up the building. Each shift of his weight was calculated, each jump from window to window. Izuku counted the audible beeps in his head. Forty two. Forty one. Forty . The wind felt heavy as it swept against his back, as if trying to drag him down, telling him not to go. His face was damp from sweat and the condensed fogs of his breath beneath his mask. It was getting hard to breathe . Still, he climbed. One foot after another. Heft after aching heft. When he finally reached the top, he counted twenty seconds left.

He grabbed the bags and twisted them into a single bundle with his webs. The fluid had jammed the gun once, so maybe wrapping them up would minimize the blow, right? It was a desperate thought. He did it anyway. Up here, alone, there was no other noise but the beeping of the bags and the callous wind. By the time he was done enveloping them in the webs, there were only six seconds left.

Five.

He attached a string onto the now unified bomb. With a pained huff, he drew back his arm, preparing to throw. His skin burned at the flex of his limbs, where the flesh had sweltered from previous blasts. The people were staring at him. He could feel it. Was Katsuki looking at him, too?

Four .

He couldn’t launch it until the third second. It would drop too low if he didn’t time it accurately. The height would be lost. That left two seconds for him to swing away. Would he make it?

Three .

Izuku drew out the line, heaving a short, tired cry, and flung it into the sky. His aim was perfect. It was sailing upwards in the open air. Away from buildings. Away from civilians. Izuku hopped to the opposite side of the building, swinging away. He stumbled as his thoughts raced. The web missed. His other wrist came up immediately to try again. No time for mistakes.  Thwip . 

Two.

It caught. Izuku let his body fall through the sky. Thwip . Another anchor and he made his descent. But he still wasn’t close enough to the ground to brace himself. Ten storeys. Seven storeys . The blast could burn his webs, he thought erratically. He could be free-falling the rest of the way down. Would he make it?

One.

Five storeys. He was back on the rooftop where the villains were, landing with a sharp jolt. Scrambling, staggering off of his knees, he jumped. The air was so cold where his bare, burnt skin was exposed. He cast another web. The crossing was coming closer, but not close enough.

Was he going to die ?

He was still mid-air when he heard the blast.

Boom . The heat emblazoned across his back, botching his fall as he landed on his front. He ducked, feeling dirt beneath his hands instead of concrete. When he dared a peek as the bombs kept exploding, he realized he had landed in one of the craters on the crossing. He had made it.

He made it.

The smell of gunpowder was sharp and acrid in the air as the explosions quieted. 

Slowly, a hushed murmur rose from the crowd. They were behind him, he realized. Which meant they would be safe, too. Or were they? Were they mumbling over a dead body? A collapsed building? Something he didn’t manage to save? Izuku was almost afraid to lift his head. Afraid of the damage he would find. But he forced himself to peek over the rim of the crater, rising to his knees.

There was a gust of smoke and gunpowder that still lingered in a plume, right by the twenty-storeyed building he had flung the bombs off of. The window panes of the surrounding buildings shattered, but their structures stayed intact, not one beam collapsing. He whipped around towards the crowd that waited patiently behind the police barricades. They were starting to rise to their feet one by one. It seemed that a rain of dust had poured down on them. Some faces were streaked with ash, granules of debris caught in their hair. But they were safe . 

And the sense of victory washed over them all at once.

Slowly, a staggered cheer of relief rose from them. Izuku blinked. Blinked again. A short huff of disbelief left his chest before he could even register it. And then he was laughing, but it didn’t feel much more than a whingeing rattle in his chest.

Izuku’s hands were shaking. For a moment his fingers seemed to blur as he tried to regain his breath. His whole body ached. Sore from the reverb of explosions, from throwing himself on hard surfaces. He could list more things that hurt rather than didn’t. Still, he brought his trembling hands to his face, smoothing it over his mask, checking every divot and curve, even the back of his head. Intact . It was all intact. He let out a breath of relief as his shoulders sagged.

But Izuku didn’t let himself rest. The sooner this nightmare was over, the better. He heard multiple voices call out from the middle of the crossing, where the buses and cars had crashed into each other, forming a barricade of vehicles. He climbed over them shakily and started to pull out person after person. Young people, elderly, children alike. They all blew out their fervent thank yous, but he could barely hear them past the ringing in his ears.

Izuku grabbed the last of them out of the middle, collapsing onto his knees as the last kid climbed off of his back and past the police barricade. Still, he didn’t take time to recover. All of a sudden his brain went from ‘is everybody safe?’ to Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki . He felt a little bit foolish, amongst the grand scheme of everything that just happened. But he still remembered the damn jujutsu nationals tournament. How hard Katsuki had trained for it. How this was the match that would graduate him past competing in his current age group. Izuku wondered how long it had been since he started fighting those villains. If there was still time. If Katsuki was still even here . To him, it felt like a whole lifetime had passed. Izuku hoped he had left.

 With his heart still battering in his chest, he looked around the area. There were immediate efforts to get the streets back to moving, so people could start to clear the crossing and make way for paramedics. But for the most part, since the danger had left, most of the onlookers had stayed to gawk at the resulting havoc. Izuku hauled himself upright and scanned the crowd, ignoring all the people calling out his name.

And then he spotted him.

The blond was staring straight in his direction, mouth slightly agape, before he looked away. Still, there was no malice in his eyes this time. No indignancy. Only… awe ? But what was he still doing here? Surely there must have been a way he could’ve jostled himself past the crowd. Izuku turned around and asked for the time. Three-forty five , somebody stammered back at him. Izuku winced behind his mask. That left barely forty-five minutes for Katsuki to get to the venue and sign himself in. 

But there was still time .

Izuku turned back around, sucked in a deep, steadying breath, and walked up to him.

“Hey!” He waved at him jovially. “It’s you again!”

The people standing around them started to stare and whisper at the interaction, shuffling out of the way as Izuku came closer. There was a clear radius around them now. Katsuki flushed from all the attention.

He scowled. “Leave me alone, bugboy!”

Katsuki turned away sharply, the crowd parting to let him through. Izuku only followed after him. He was much faster, and much more fluid with his movements. With a sinuous jump he stepped in front of Katsuki, walking backwards so they faced each other while he strode.

“Where are you headed?” 

Katsuki grumbled, heaving a frustrated breath, before he stopped in his tracks and shoved a finger into Izuku’s chest.

“Fuck you! This is all your fault!” Katsuki snarled. He gestured to the crossing, to the craters that littered the ground, which have increased in numbers since Izuku first got here. But hey, he had tried his best! “I have a fucking tournament— the biggest one in my fucking life — my entire fucking career — and instead I fuckin’ stayed and—” He tried to suck in a breath, but it left his chest sputtering.

Izuku blinked at him dumbly. His fault? Why was it his fault? He almost died out there—

“Now there’s no time.” Katsuki sighed. Defeatedly, this time. With none of the malice.

Oh . Izuku understood now.

He wasn’t mad at Spiderman for causing the damage.

He was mad at himself for lingering behind to watch the fight.

Izuku raised his hands, coming closer in an attempt to comfort the blond. But he stopped himself short before he could. It was too common of a reflex. He had to watch himself around Katsuki.

“Hey. Calm down.” He opted to say instead. Then, he opened his arms, offering what he came to give this entire time. “I’m guessing you need a lift?”

Katsuki stared at him dumbly for a few seconds before a look of understanding dawned on his features. His face started to flush, his mouth parting in an angry shape like he was about to start yelling again, but Izuku cut him off.

“Come on.” Izuku wiggled his fingers. “This thing is important, isn’t it?”

Katsuki shot him a contemplative look, checking the phone held tightly in his hands. Probably for the time. Which, Izuku knew, would tell him that there wasn’t much left. No doubt the other contestants would be there already, and as much as Katsuki was the star competitor, being late and disrupting the event would only mar his fledgling reputation. This would be one of his debut tournaments that would get him to adult competitions down the line, after all.

Katsuki heaved a sigh.

“Fine.” He grumbled, finally, shifting closer to Izuku. “It’s the least you could fucking do.”

Izuku grinned. “Where to?” He asked as if he didn’t already know.

“Daichi Martial Arts Arena.” Katsuki mumbled.

People turned to stare as Izuku curled his arm around the blond, tucking him to his side so they were hip to hip. At first, Katsuki was timid, not knowing where to place his hands, shying at every touch. But the moment Izuku shot out the first web and raised them into the sky, Katsuki’s face found solace in the crook of his neck once again, shielding his eyes from the escalating view as his legs wound tight around Izuku’s waist. 

“Hold tight!”

Izuku’s body still hurt all over. Katsuki didn’t weigh as much as he looked —or maybe that was just the spider powers talking— but his arms started to strain like it didn’t used to before. The streets blurred beneath them as they swung from building to building. Katsuki started to grip him tighter around the middle when Izuku had to let go of the string to land before launching upwards again. He was squeezing into the gash the blond villain had left on his side. Izuku gritted his teeth and tried to quell the hiss that threatened to leave his lips.

It only took five minutes for them to arrive. The arena was modest in size, large enough for Izuku to see it coming from a few blocks away. He landed carefully, hands coming up to support Katsuki’s back as he let go of the last web. There was the tremble of a shiver beneath his fingertips.

Katsuki immediately unhooked his legs from Izuku’s waist, stumbling backwards as he tried to orient himself. Izuku’s hand shot out to offer support, but the blond only swatted him away, looking greener in the face than he was five minutes ago.

“Never—” he heaved a deep breath, “— again .”

Izuku beamed. “You’re very welcome.”

Katsuki continued to catch his breath, hunched over with his hands on his knees. Silently, Izuku brought a hand up to his side and felt where the gash was. It stung lightly, and when he looked down at his fingers it came away just the slightest bit bloody. Well, shit . He would have to go home immediately if he was going to patch up his wounds and make it in time for the tournament to start. There were maybe thirty minutes left until the first match started. He would just have to miss the first few ones, but as long as he was there for Katsuki’s fights he didn’t care.

“Hey.” Katsuki called out to him. When Izuku looked up, the blond was upright again, shooting him a look that almost bordered on concern. “You good?”

“Me?” Izuku stammered. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m—” he cleared his throat, “I’m good .”

Katsuki looked like he wanted to say something, but only opted for a scoff. “Sure.”

He started to walk away, towards the entrance of the venue. There weren’t that many people milling about. It must mean that everyone was already inside. Izuku called out to him one last time, in case he wouldn’t get the chance to tell him before the tournament started.

“Good luck with, uh—whatever that is.”

Katsuki stopped, looking over his shoulder but not bothering to turn around. His eyes seemed to soften momentarily. Izuku’s chest squeezed.

“Thanks.”

He waited until he saw the blond enter the tournament arena.

And then he bolted .

He’s never swung so recklessly through the city as he did now, using every surface or streetlight or pipe to anchor him through the streets. People whooped and hollered after him, some even exclaiming gratitude. Word must’ve traveled already of what happened in Shibuya. He felt bad not being able to stop and thank them, but he felt like he’s sacrificed enough for the city today. Sometimes, he spared a wave in mid-air, and the resulting cheer flared something warm in his heart.

He’s never had such a friendly reception before. Then again, this was his first time defeating such dangerous villains.

As he was swinging, a small convenience store caught his eye. Tucked into the corner of the street, likely to be family owned. There didn’t seem to be that many people inside. A reminder struck him suddenly, and he dropped to the ground.

Pocari . He needed to get Katsuki his pocari.

“Excuse me!” Izuku pushed his head into the store. All the workers and patrons turned to look at him, eyes immediately bugging out of their heads. What a sight he must be, looking beaten and battered and shouting at innocent people. He turned to the woman behind the register. “Excuse me ma’am! Do you sell pocari here?!”

“Po—Pocari?” She echoed back at him, before the familiar brand made her snap out of her daze. “Yes! Yes of course!” There was a cooler of drinks beside the counter. She yanked it open with more haste than needed and grabbed the bottled drink in question. “He—Here you go!” She leaned past the counter and offered it up to him, her arm outstretched as far as it could go. “On the house, Spiderman!”

“Oh! Thank you!” Izuku exclaimed, stepping fully into the store and accepting the drink with both hands. He bowed at her. Then bowed again. “Thank you so much!”

Izuku quickly stepped out of the store, stumbling as he held the cold drink in his hand. He patted down his body, looking for somewhere to store it. He couldn't hold something while he was swinging. There was a small pocket next to his hip, but it was specifically sized for his phone. Which he forgot at home , he realized as he smoothened his hand over the space down and found nothing. Izuku muttered to himself.

Fuck it.

He raised his mask, just until his lips peeked out, the rest of the fabric bunching under his nose. With a little bit more sheepishness than necessary, he bit down on the bottle cap and held it tightly between his teeth. Katsuki would be disgusted if he found out, but beggars can’t be choosers. He shot out another web and got back to swinging.

When Izuku arrived back home, sliding into his room by way of the window, he stripped out of his suit immediately and pushed it under his bed. God knew what was down there at this point. It could range from dirty socks to his first web-shooter prototype. He ran up to his full-length mirror and tried to fix his hair, but the image that stared back surprised him.

There were traces of blood smeared across his face, from when his nose gushed after hitting the ground face-first in the beginning of the fight. There were little criss-crossing lances from shattered glass all over his body, running up and down his limbs like disarrayed paint strokes. And of course, the offending gash at his side, still bleeding lightly but not enough to be concerning. There were a lot more. He gazed at his reflection in surprise as he twisted around. The skin of his upper right arm looked red and welted and angry. The palms of his hands were scraped up from bracing every fall. He took in this image of himself, trying to map out all the cuts, the burns, and the bruises that began to peek from under his skin. A small part of his brain wanted him to feel bad for himself, but as he stared at his body, all he could feel was pride .

This was the person who saved lives today.

Izuku beamed, but quickly cut the celebratory moment short as he scrambled for the first-aid kit he kept in his room at all times, tucked underneath his desk. He wiped down his face first before bandaging up the gash at his side, wrapping the gauze around his ribs over and over again. Then, he applied a balm to the burn on his right arm. He inspected his handiwork in the mirror, twisting his torso to make sure he wasn’t missing anything else. The rest would just have to wait. They weren’t much worse than papercuts, after all. He would just have to go to the event wearing something that would cover it all up. Jeans and a hoodie, he decided. That wouldn’t be out of character for him at all.

Shrugging on his clothes, Izuku reached for his backpack and tossed the pocari inside, wiping down the cap before he did so, because even if Katsuki would never know where it’s been he still felt marginally bad about it. He grabbed the banner from where it was leaning against the wall. One last pat down to make sure he remembered everything. Wallet. Keys. Phone.

Oh, phone !

He grabbed it from the bed. The screen lit up. There were a ton of messages and miscalls from Katsuki, and all of them sounded angry. Izuku swallowed nervously before opening them.

They were sent from around the same time the villain fight started, but most of them were after it ended.

After Izuku had dropped him off as Spiderman.

[KACCHAN]

don’t go through shibuya traffic + crowds everywhere buses arent running

oi 

[3 Missed Calls]

idiot are u good???

answer your fuckin phone dammit

there was a fuckin villain attack in shibuya

[2 Missed Calls]

you dont have to get the fuckin drink just come

[4 Missed Calls]

i’m actually gonna fuckin kill you when i see you

DONT MAKE ME CALL YOUR MOM

dipshit 

where the fuck are you?????

[3 Missed Calls]

were you in shibuya????

[3 Missed Calls]

izuku are you okay???

fuckin answer me

[5 Missed Calls]

Izuku .

Something in his chest fluttered at that, his face heating up as he read the syllables of his name over and over again. Katsuki never called him that. Never unless one of them was in a gigantic amount of trouble, or when Katsuki was delirious. Like the time when Izuku had broken his mom’s favorite vase while they were playing soccer inside, and Izuku kept crying and crying and crying until Katsuki grabbed him by the shoulders and said, very firmly, his first name, which at the time scared seven-year-old him into silence more than anything. Or when Katsuki had a frighteningly high fever in middle school but didn’t tell anybody, and Izuku had only known that something was wrong when Katsuki’s speech slowed and he had called him by his first name. Those were probably the only two times he remembered being referred to as something other than Deku. Or idiot. Or dipshit.

Izuku winced.

Well, fuck .

He quickly shot out of his room, running down the stairs so fast he almost tumbled down the steps. A very humorous parallel of just a few hours ago when he rushed down to watch the news. He was across the threshold of his living room, one hand on the doorknob, before he heard a voice call out his name.

“Izuku!” It was his mom, standing behind the kitchen counter, watching over a steaming kettle. Izuku stepped away from the door. “Honey, you left the TV on when you went up to sleep.”

Izuku cringed. Right , he forgot about that. He’s begun telling her that whenever he had his door locked during the day, he was most likely taking a nap. And he was a heavy sleeper, so she knew neither wind nor hail nor her incessant knocks on his door would wake him. Izuku felt bad about lying to her, and felt even worse when she believed him without a second thought. 

“Oh, hi mom!” He rubbed a sheepish hand behind his neck. “I—I didn’t hear you come back!”

“Well, I didn’t want to wake you.” She smiled, removing the kettle once it began to whistle. “You’ve been looking so tired lately, I figured you needed the rest.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Izuku looked away, the smile on his face faltering. There was that pang of guilt again. He knew she deserved more than being lied to, but if she found out about all his Spiderman business, about all the danger and injuries that came with it, she would never let him out of the house again. “I’m heading to Kacchan’s tournament now! I’m actually running a little late.”

His mom poured the boiling water into a pot, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Isn’t there a villain attack around that area?”

Izuku shook his head fervently. “I checked on the news and they said they’re gone now! And anyway I’m not passing through there. I’ll take the subway!”

His mom pursed her lips, the divot between her brows only deepening. He figured that she would be worried. It was in the Midoriya nature to overthink. But she knew how much Katsuki’s matches meant to Izuku. He’s never missed a single one, even when they were kids.

“Okay…” she said, not entirely convinced. “Well, tell Katsuki good luck from me. Even though he doesn’t really need it. And text me when you get there.”

“I will, mom!” Izuku replied hurriedly before she could change her mind, a hand already on the doorknob again. “Bye!”

“Wait!”

Izuku froze, the door already halfway opened. Crap . Was she changing her mind? Would he not be able to go? Did he forget to cover some of his injuries? Izuku’s mind raced, but when he turned around, the only thing he saw on his mom’s face was a warm smile.

“Go on, show me what the banner’s like this time.” She nodded to the rolled up paper in his hands. Izuku let out a breath of relief. With a beaming smile, he unrolled the parchment, stretching it out between his hands. It wasn’t much, most of it done in last-minute haste, but his mom’s smile immediately widened all the same, an endearing coo leaving her lips. “Oh, that’s lovely, Izuku! You’ve really outdone yourself this time. I’m sure Katsuki will love it.”

“Yeah, right .” Izuku rolled his eyes at that last comment, laughing. The blond would probably just ask him to throw it away once he saw it. He turned back towards the door, but not before giving his mom a wave. “Okay love you mom, bye!”

“Love you more!” She called out after him as he dashed out.

Izuku’s eyes began to water as he made his way to the nearest subway station, the press of guilt in his chest only getting worse and worse the farther away he walked from his house. He really didn’t deserve all the trust and love his mother gave him. Izuku was always a goody-two-shoes growing up, so he never gave her any reason not to believe his words. It was odd now to lie so easily to her. He wondered how Katsuki did it to his parents all the time. Well, it was only about grades and what he would spend his pocket money on, but still.

The journey to the tournament venue took longer than expected. Trains were delayed after the villain attack in Shibuya. Apparently the platform located there was absolutely swarmed with people trying to get out, the crossing still congested with bystanders and more news crews scrambling to report on the aftermath. Luckily, that wasn’t the stop he was going to get off at, and once the delay was sorted out, the train began moving again. Even so, as he showed his pass to the ticketer outside the venue, he was already fifteen minutes late.

Izuku scrambled down the stands, forgoing looking for his seat to instead peer down at the arena where the contestants would be fighting. The venue was huge, full with the friends and families of both young and more experienced competitors. The seats staggered in elevation, climbing up the sides of the arena, flanking it on all angles. Izuku pressed against the railings that guarded the elevated sections. He was still a few steps up, not quite on ground level with where the competitors would be waiting on the sidelines. But there was no one on the mats. Izuku looked around. The crowd was mostly on their phones or chattering softly amongst themselves. Izuku tapped the nearest person on the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” he said, pointing at the arena, “have any of the matches started yet?”

“No, I think they’re postponing it for another few minutes.” The man answered him kindly, looking up from his phone. “Some of the fighters are being caught up in Shibuya.”

Izuku sighed a breath of relief. So they were making accomodations for the incident after all. “Oh. Okay, thank you!” 

Izuku raced down the stands, heading for the sidelines. Katsuki would be there, no doubt, probably warming up, and Izuku had to see him before the tournament started. He wasn’t even sure if he would be able to get through. There were members of staff by the sectioned off area for fighters, and they were already looking at him like he knew what he was going to say.

But Katsuki saw him coming before he even had the chance to make an excuse to get through. He pushed past the staff, barking out angry words at them when they tried to stop him. The blond was already dressed in his white jujutsu robe, wound tightly around his body the way a piece of clothing would when it was made for you. Crisply, and in all the right places. Then, his red eyes settled on Izuku. 

And he did not look happy.

“Kacchan!” Izuku cried, waving a frantic hand at him from a few steps away. When he stepped down to Katsuki’s level, the blond grabbed onto his shoulders.

“You fucking piece of shit.” He snarled, and for a moment Izuku thought he might push him or something worse, but his red eyes caught something on Izuku’s hand and he snatched up his wrist. “What the fuck? What’s this?”

Katsuki turned the hand over, revealing scrapes that lined the meat of Izuku’s palms, scuffing even the lengths of his fingers. He took his other hand and turned that around, too. The injuries mirrored each other. Izuku stammered at the sudden proximity. Well, there was no way he could hide those , could he? Unless he wore gloves , which he figured was sort of socially unacceptable in the summer. The blond’s hold on his wrist was firm and adamantly unwavering. And very very warm .

“I—” he struggled, “I was—”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed in accusation. “Were you in Shibuya?”

Izuku blinked. His first instinct was to lie, but the blond was looking at him with such a mask of anger that the truth just fell out of his lips.

“Ye—es.” He drew out the single syllable guiltily.

Katsuki let go of his wrist in anger, the action almost pushing Izuku back. There was no way the blond would find out he was Spiderman just from a simple scrape.

Right?

“Dipshit.” Katsuki snarled, throwing up his hands. “I told you not to go through that way!”

And Izuku was right. His shoulders sagged from the relief, letting out a huffed breath. Katsuki just thought he got held up in the crowd. That was all.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan, my phone was dead.” He said sheepishly.

Katsuki scoffed. “What happened?”

Behind them, the staff began to stir, whispering amongst themselves. Some other guy, dressed in all black with an earpiece on, came up to them and muttered something to their ears, pointing at Katsuki. Both their eyes went to him, no doubt receiving orders on what to do, but nervous about approaching the explosive teen.

Izuku pointed behind him and whispered urgently. “Kacchan, I think it’s almost your turn!”

“What the fuck happened, Deku?” Katsuki demanded all the same.

“It’s nothing!” Izuku had to lie quickly. “People were running so I just got knocked over and scratched myself on the— the pavement! That’s all!”

Katsuki sighed, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I called you so many fucking times—”

Izuku put a hand on his shoulder. “Kacchan, I’m glad you were worried, and I’m sorry I didn't check my phone—” his eyes kept darting to the approaching staff. “Just calm down! It’s almost your turn. You have to focus .”

At those words, something broke. Katsuki’s eyes cleared from the anger, now turning frantic as he ran both hands through his hair, eyes wide while he took deep breaths. I worried him , Izuku thought dejectedly as he watched his friend attempt to settle himself. He wasn’t able to concentrate . Izuku placed both hands on his shoulders now, rubbing circles into the strong, tight lines of his muscles. Katsuki wouldn’t let Izuku comfort him like this if he wasn’t completely out of it. The blond was actually nervous about this match. And of course he would be. Because it wasn’t just the one. He would be up against four people at most, if he made it past all the stages. If he was to win first place. And Izuku essentially ghosting him in the middle of a life-threatening terrorist attack could not have helped that anxiety at all.

The staff people tried to come up to them, but Izuku held up his pointer finger over Katsuki’s shoulder, smiling sheepishly, as if asking for just one moment. They frowned, but nodded in understanding, one of them tapping his wrist as if indicating there wasn’t much time. Katsuki’s head was still ducked.

“ Fuck .” The blond let out a trembling breath, shaking his head side to side. “Fuck. Okay.”

Izuku’s hands slipped from his shoulders. He turned around, his eyes skimming the crowd momentarily. Maybe someone else could calm him down. “Are your parents here?”

“No.” Katsuki looked away. “Business trip.”

Izuku frowned. 

As much as the blond liked to insist that it didn’t matter who came to watch him, he knew his parents gave him a lot of pre-match support. Uncle Masaru, in particular, would always be the one to channel Katsuki’s nervous anger into focused concentration with a murmured pep talk that Izuku never dared listen in to, sending him off to the fighting mats with his head held high. But Izuku couldn’t do that for him now. There simply wasn’t any time .

Izuku slipped off his bag, rummaging in it to pull out the pocari bottle.

“Here.” He held it out to the blond, who only stared at it dumbly. “Will this help?”

Katsuki accepted it into his hand a moment later, taking it gently.

“You…” The blond let a huff pass between his lips, his eyes round and almost lighter. “I—”

A voice boomed over the speakers. “ The next match against contestants seventy-six and fourteen will proceed in one minute. ”

“Fourteen!” Izuku looked down at the number printed against Katsuki’s chest. “That’s you! Go!” He grabbed the blond’s roughened hands, forcing their eyes to meet. And Izuku meant it earnestly when he said, “You can do this, Kacchan!”

Katsuki only stared at him.

The staff no longer waited. They ushered Katsuki into the arena, pushing him into the waiting zone. Izuku immediately high-tailed up the stands, searching for his seat number. Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two … He plopped into the little fold-up chair labeled fifty-three, immediately shrugging off his bag and unfurling the banner. Izuku held it up in the air when he saw Katsuki walk on the mat, cheering loudly amongst many other viewers. Katsuki had a lot of fans, after all, and this was no surprise. Izuku watched as Katsuki’s gaze swiveled around the stands until their eyes met, his gaze immediately settling on the banner raised proudly above Izuku’s head. And, for the first time in history, he smiled at it.

Izuku’s heart burst with warmth, a grin splitting his features. It felt not unlike an explosion from a few hours ago. Bright and loud and instantaneous. Disastrous .

The match proceeded. Izuku watched breathlessly as Katsuki defeated opponent after opponent. The arcs of his kicks were clean, his jabs punctuated and full of concentrated force. There was no trace of the boy that nearly broke down a few minutes ago. Now, Katsuki’s face was emblazoned with that familiar smirk, ruthless and graceful as he dealt move after winning move. Did Izuku look half as beautiful fighting as Katsuki did? Was there anyone else in the world who could move their limbs that way? Izuku wasn’t sure. He could only watch, and raise his banner, and cheer along with the crowd.

The competitors shuffled, other brackets competing, but at the end of the day it was Katsuki up against another boy almost a year older than him. The final match. 

Katsuki put him on the ground in five minutes flat, scoring over him with his moves by a landslide.

Izuku couldn’t have run down the stands any faster after they anointed the blond with the first place medal, once the tournament was declared done and over.

“You did it!” Izuku cried, dropping the banner at his feet when Katsuki came out of the fighters’ zone, jumping up onto the blond and wrapping his legs around his middle. Katsuki immediately caught him with a gentle hand against the small of his back, staggering backwards a few paces from the force of the embrace. “You did it, Kacchan! I knew you could do it!”

Izuku might have been imagining it, but he felt a small squeeze around his shoulders. “Of course I fucking did!” Katsuki barked out arrogantly.

Izuku laughed, wrapping his arms tighter around the blond until he deemed it was enough. Once the adrenaline of it all subsided, he flushed at the proximity as if he had not been the one to leap into Katsuki’s arms in the first place. This was how Katsuki held on to him when he was Spiderman, he thought unhelpfully. When he would have to hang on as they swung. Izuku hurriedly dropped onto his feet again, feeling fire on his face as he ducked his head.

“Um.” He stammered, “Congratulations.”

Izuku was too afraid to look up, but he heard Katsuki let out an amused huff. “Whatever.”

He only allowed himself to straighten his gaze when he saw the blond bend down to pick up the discarded banner. Katsuki stretched it out between his hands, smirking at the messy paint-and-glitter lettering plastered across it in bold orange letters. It read: NUMBER ONE FIGHTER, BAKUGOU KATSUKI , with an obscene amount of exclamation marks. On the bottom right was a very childish, cartoonized drawing of the blond, which Mina actually helped him practice in an English notebook somewhere. The illustration had his angry, downturned eyebrows and everything. Spiky hair. A hand coming up from the bottom of the paper in a fist. It was really no different from all his other past banners, except this time he actually got help and practiced beforehand, instead of just printing out a picture of Katsuki’s face.

“Another one, nerd?” Katsuki tilted the paper this way and that.

“Of course!” Izuku smiled. “It’s tradition.”

Katsuki considered the banner for a moment longer, before he rolled it back up, tucking it under his arm below the strap of his gym bag. He wasn’t throwing it away, Izuku thought frantically. What did that mean ? Did he do a good job? Did Katsuki actually like it? Oh god, Izuku really had to buy Mina lunch to say thank you or something. Katsuki flashed Izuku a smirk that seared right through his chest.

“You’re getting better.” The blond teased, before climbing up the stands and heading towards the exit.

Izuku was left staring after him for a moment before he picked up the pace.

“So…” Izuku drawled as they exited the building. “Wanna get some pizza?”

“Fuck no!” Katsuki barked back at him, all that fondness from before gone. Was it fondness? Izuku couldn’t really tell. Could never tell, really, when it came to Katsuki. “That shit’s not good for you!”

They ended up getting pizza.

And at the end of the night, Izuku watched as Katsuki walked back into his house when he dropped him off, banner still tucked under his arm, rolled up and safe, no matter how many trash cans they walked past.

Chapter Text

It’s been two weeks since the Shibuya incident.

Time passed in a blur in the space between the days of that fortnight. The public’s reception of Spiderman had warmed. They started calling him a hero. Someone the people needed, had to express gratitude for. It seemed that every day following that incident more and more interviews of people he had saved —both from Shibuya and all other crimes that came before— popped up on TV. They gushed about how kind or funny or charming he was. And at first, it remained that way. At every lunch break, Kirishima seemed to have some new Spiderman-related Youtube video to show them. Deep-dives. Footage. Conspiracy theories. All posted under good fun and respect. Izuku could only sit there and smile, that familiar warm feeling that had come so rarely now overwhelming him in tidal waves.

It had all been perfect until it was not.

The public seemed to think that now, after Spiderman had made such a show of defeating those two radical villains, criminals would be discouraged from acting up. Tokyo has its very own hero now, after all, and they should be scared into the shadows once again. What other ordinary criminal —those pathetic muggers and pickpockets and thieves— could measure up to those villains? If they couldn’t beat Spiderman, who can? Why even try ?

They also thought that since Spiderman could protect them against those bombs, he could protect them against anything. The media portrayed him as invincible, even as they plastered the beaten, torn-up pictures of Izuku after Shibuya on their news screens, looking like anything but. Still, to ordinary people, he was extraordinary. And he could never fail them now.

Of course, the world didn’t work that way.

And they were angry when they were proven wrong.

The grace period of reduced crime only lasted a week. On the eighth day after Shibuya, it picked right up again. For the most part, Izuku handled it amazingly, if he could say so himself. Bank robbery? Shut down in ten minutes. Muggers and thieves? Brought ten of them tied up to the police station by the end of the week. But there was still one criminal he hadn't caught yet. The man who committed serial stabbings in the past month, who he and Ochako had been obsessed with tracking down. The criminal’s blade would always be coated with a paralyzing toxin of some sort, leaving the victims to bleed out unless they were found. This was his fifth victim now. And on the eighth day, he struck.

In the past, the men and women had only been severely wounded, and Izuku would arrive after the man had left. The call-ins were always late, the police radio only murmuring with the details after the criminal left the victim in some back alley. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to his attacks. He didn’t even take the victims’ wallets or anything. It was purely an act of terrorism. And Izuku despised it.

He couldn’t recall much of what happened now. There was the call, of course, this time not made by a victim but by someone who happened to see a hooded man with the same descriptions as the serial stabber. Izuku leapt onto the scene immediately. Finally, a chance to catch the person before he struck. But still. Still . As he rounded the corner of the street mentioned in the call, he saw a woman collapsed on the ground, blood spilling from beneath her clenched hands. Fatal wound , Izuku thought frantically as he stared at her. It was pouring from gashes on her neck. She could barely even speak. Izuku has never seen so much blood before.

“Hel…” she croaked, “Help.”

And then, a hooded figure brushed past him forcefully. To this day, Izuku doesn't know how he didn’t see him coming. He turned, hands already coming up to shoot webs. Thwip . The man dodged. Thwip . It caught on the sole of his shoe as he ran, but the stabber merely let it slip from his foot, bolting away around the corner.

Izuku could catch him. He could run faster. Swing high and get the jump on him from above. But when he turned, the woman was still reaching out for him. Middle-aged. Black, graying hair matted around her shoulders from the blood. Her eyes were wide. Green . 

For a moment, Izuku saw a flash of his mother.

He looked back, towards the street, and then turned again to the woman. If you leave , Izuku thought morbidly, she might die alone .

“Hel…” her voice was disappearing with every syllable, the paralyzing toxin kicking in, “Hel…”

Izuku tightened his fists at his side.

He was not going anywhere.

He fell to his knees beside her, not knowing where to touch, where it was okay to lift without straining her. Could he carry her to the nearest hospital? No. He couldn’t support her neck. Not while swinging. And what if he held her wrong? What if he dropped her? The woman clawed at his feet, desperate for something to hold. He cradled her head and placed her on his lap, angling her head up so her chin wouldn’t pressure her neck. Oh god. Oh god . The blood ran past her hair and onto his suit, onto the pads of his fingers.

“Hey.” Izuku said shakily when the woman finally looked up, her green eyes wide and brimmed with tears. “Hello, ma’am. I’m here to help you. Just breathe.”

“Can’t…” The woman hiccuped, taking in a raspy, constricted breath. This only made blood gush from the gashes. “No…”

“H—Hold on.” Izuku stammered. He needed something to stop the bleeding. Some kind of fabric . In frenzied movements, he tore at the sleeve of his suit, wrapping the garment around her neck. He pressed gently, not enough to constrict her breathing. At this point, the toxin was the least of his worries. She might not be able to survive past it kicking in. “I can help you. I can help.”

Izuku whipped around. They were in an alley, and he could see people walking past the mouth of it. No one noticed that they were here, not unless Izuku made himself known.

“Hey!” Izuku yelled, waving his arms when a man looked up from his phone mid-walk. He squinted into the alley. “You! Call 110!”

The stranger recognized him immediately, stammering in an affirmative as he frantically punched something into his screen, bringing the phone up to his ear as he stared at Izuku and the woman bleeding out on his lap. But he didn’t come any closer. Good . Someone had to watch out for the ambulance once it came.

“It’s going to be okay.” Izuku turned back to the woman, brushing a strand of dark hair out of her pale face. He tried not to let his fear show, but his hands still trembled. “Help is coming, but you gotta stay awake, okay?”

“Hurt.” The woman croaked. One of her blood-soaked hands came up to gesture at her neck, as if Izuku couldn’t see the gashes. He caught her hand before she could claw at her own wounds. “Hurts.”

“No, no, no.” Izuku said, the panic in his voice rising. Her eyelids were beginning to dip, her fingers slackening. “No.” He patted her cheek gently, and she peered up at him as if  seeing him for the first time. “Look at me, no, you have to—”

“Can’t.” The woman’s head tilted side to side on his lap. Her eyes were searching up at him, like she was trying to look for something that she can’t find. “Can’t.”

“You can’t see?”

“No…” The woman said tiredly. She brought up her hand, and for a moment Izuku thought she was going to try touching her neck again, but this time she gestured to her own face, sweeping her fingers from her forehead down to her chin, then gesturing at him. “Can’t.”

Oh .

She wanted to see him.

Izuku hesitated for a moment. He’s never even considered showing his face to the public. He knew what they would say. That he looked too young to be doing all this. That they shouldn’t trust him. That he didn’t look like a hero. What if showing the woman what he looked like only unsettled her? Made her hate him? But an ugly thought in his head said that she wasn’t going to survive. And who was he to deny a dying woman’s wish?

He looked around the alley. No one was there. Just him and this woman, and the man still standing at the mouth of the alley talking into his phone, looking out onto the street, probably guiding the ambulance to them. Slowly, Izuku reached down to his neck where the hem of his mask started, and gently he pulled, until the fabric bunched up on top of his head. 

“There.” He said, smiling shakily. “Is—Is that better?”

She didn’t frown at him. Didn’t start panicking or pushing away when she saw he was only a kid. In fact, she looked mildly comforted, the pain that brimmed her eyes melting away for an ephemeral second to reveal a certain fondness that Izuku can’t comprehend. Something that looked too close to an end. Her shaking, blood-soaked hands reached up feebly to touch his cheek. Izuku grabbed it immediately and guided her fingers to his face.

He felt the flutter of a touch just below his bottom eyelashes.

“Eyes.” A breath sputtered out of her, wheezing, like the word had hurt more than the gashes on her neck. Her face scrunched up. “Like my son.”

Oh . That was right.

Izuku had green eyes, too.

He held onto her hands tighter, fingers curling against her weak ones. With all the warmth he could muster, he pressed her touch closer to his cheek. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw the beads of his tears fall onto her face.

“Well,” he croaked, “yours are just like my mom’s.”

The woman sighed softly. “Boy.”  She said, too serenely as her eyelids dipped. “You’re just a boy.”

Her hand slackened in his, going limp as if a puppeteer had suddenly let go of her, all of her. He felt her head loll to the side. He saw her chest stop its faint rising and falling. Izuku’s mouth parted, his lips trembling as he struggled to form words. In a desperate, bewildered attempt at something, anything , he shook her shoulder. She did not respond.

Izuku has never seen a dead body before.

He was looking at one now.

“Ma—Ma’am?” His voice left him in a rush. With trembling hands, he shook her again. “Ma’am!”

The ambulance chose that time to sweep in. Izuku didn’t know how he didn’t hear it coming. The sirens were almost unbearable now that they were right at the mouth of the alley, the stranger who had called them waving them in. Shakily, he remembered to tug his mask back down his face, compressing all the tears, hiding the way his eyes skidded disbelievingly over her limp body. Someone pushed him away. Someone else tugged him up. There were red and blue lights flashing along the damp floor of the alley. Had it rained? Izuku didn’t remember it raining.

The dampness followed all the way to a body bag.

Someone settled a hand on his shoulder, someone dressed in a paramedic suit, bringing up a small flashlight. They were asking something. They reached for the hem of his mask. He pushed them away, turning around. The woman was nowhere to be found. There was nothing left of her except for the dampness. The traces of her on his suit.

He looked down at his hands. The dark green of latex gave away to crimson.

He wanted to throw up.

“—derman.” Someone snapped their finger next to his ear. “Spiderman!”

“Huh?” Izuku blearily straightened his gaze. “What?”

It was a police officer. She was looking at him sympathetically, her blond eyebrows drawn tight, but there was also a hint of impatience in her pursed lips.

“Are you injured?”

He shook his head blearily.

“Did you see what the stabber looked like?”

“N—No.” Izuku took a moment to stammer out. He tried to run his hands through his hair, but there was nothing to reach for. “No…”

She gestured to her co-worker, and held up a shoe encased in a plastic forensic bag. “Was this the stabber’s shoe?”

Izuku nodded vigorously. This, he knew for sure. “Yes.”

The officer looked up from her notepad. She shot him a worried look.

“Hey,” she said, gently, “you okay?”

Izuku didn’t really know how to answer that.

“I’m sorry.” He pushed past her, walking by all these people who had their singular attention on him.  “I—I’m sorry. I gotta go.”

And then he climbed up the nearest building and swung back home.

His room felt cold when he slipped in through his window. He shed his suit immediately, almost maniacally, throwing it to the ground in a mix of rage and disbelief. And then he gathered it back up, afraid that the blood would stain the floorboards. He would burn it the next day, he decided. Burn this new suit that he had just made for himself after the Shibuya attack, barely a week old. But for now, all he wanted to do was take a shower, scrub all evidence of everything that had happened in the past hour, and go to sleep. Hope to forget. Forget everything. Forget the look in the woman’s eyes as she pleaded at him. Forget the way her body felt when she went limp.

Izuku shook his head, feeling a sob clawing up his throat. No . That wasn’t what he wanted to do. That wasn’t it at all.

He wanted to run downstairs and hug his mom. To look at her green, green eyes and her graying hair and ask her to tell him that it hadn’t been his fault. But he couldn’t. Because then she would know that something was wrong. Because she was smarter than Izuku gave her credit for, and if he had a breakdown right now, out of the blue, she would be able to put two and two together. Or at least, that was what he thought. As he turned the idea over and over again in his head, it began to sour. He can’t. He can’t let her know. He can’t let her see .

It still didn’t feel real the next day. Or the week following it.

In fact, it only got worse .

Izuku felt the pit in his stomach grow and grow until he couldn’t feel where it ended. He wasn’t talking to his friends, wasn’t answering any of the messages he got on his phone, even skipping some days at school when his mother saw the dark bags under his eyes and the way he could barely stomach a spoonful of food. At this point, he had all but cut himself off from the world. Only that wasn’t exactly true. The need to check social media was still there, the urge to know the way Spiderman was being perceived. He should’ve just left it alone. 

Fourteen days after Shibuya. Six days after the woman died. And now Izuku was sitting alone in the darkness of his living room. The blinds were drawn, not a single peek of the moon outside clawed into the space. His mom was out on a business trip. She felt guilty about leaving him alone like this, even considered staying at home altogether. But he knew how important this particular trip was, and he played up his spirits so she felt more confident about leaving. The light from the TV flooded the room with dancing colors, moving over his face, the only part of his body not concealed under a mountain of blankets. It was set to a news channel, playing a late-night segment. An interview was being broadcasted of someone who had apparently been recording the stabbing from the building next to the alley, four floors up.

“I recorded it thinking I was gonna witness an epic fight. ” The man, who was actually just another boy his age, shrugged nonchalantly from where they displayed his face next to the host’s. It was a remote interview. Izuku watched silently. “ But no. Spiderman just let that guy go. ”

The recording played. A lot of it was just Izuku standing around, the shock obvious in the way his body was rigid, the staticness of his movements. The stabber brushed past him, and Izuku only stared, turning back to the woman multiple times. 

“ Spiderman’s judgment obviously can’t be trusted. ” The host scoffed, waving his hand around as the footage played. “ That stabber could easily be out there killing people again as we speak. How could he prioritize that woman’s life against hundreds of potential others? ”

The recording continued until you could see him tug up his mask. His face wasn’t shown, neither was his hair, thanks to the top-down angle. But it was clear in the fold of the fabric atop his head, and the way he leaned his face down. The channel stopped the video at that exact second, a big red circle flashing on screen to mark the area.

“ Viewers, I don’t know if you can see that, but in this frame Spiderman is taking off his mask! ” The host pointed.

“ Y’know, some people think he knew the dead lady. ” The guy shrugged. “ That explains why he would show his face. ”

“ That explains why he chose to save her instead of stopping the stabber, which would have been for the greater good! ”

Izuku shrank back into the cushions of his couch, feeling the familiar burn of tears filling his eyes. He’s heard this theory hundreds of times before. From articles. From social media posts. From the radio. But this was the most callous way he’s heard someone put it. He felt sorry for the amount of attention that the woman's family was getting in the midst of everything. She had a son, Izuku remembered with a pang, but luckily the media found out that he was only twelve years old. Far too young to be Spiderman. But that didn’t put the rest of her family in the clear.

“ And she ended up dying anyway! ” The guy blubbered. “ He did that for nothing! ”

“ Exactly .” The host nodded in agreement. “ He’s obviously just a kid with no idea what he’s doing. Are we really gonna let this boy make decisions on how we protect this city? ”

The guy shrugged. “ Maybe Shibuya was just a lucky fluke. ”

Izuku’s tears ran steadfast down his cheeks by the time the program cut to an advertisement. He buried his face into his blankets, letting a sob rise from his throat, catching against the roof of his mouth as he coughed out one after the other. What was he really upset about? The ghost of her body in his hands that he could still feel every night? The way he couldn’t look his mother in the eyes, look at his own reflection, because they had the same green irises as the woman? The way the media slandered him just because of the expectations they set a week ago that Izuku had never asked for? It was nothing and everything all at once. And it was too much .

He barely heard his apartment’s intercom system beeping until it started to go off three times in a row.

Izuku rose disconcertedly from the sofa, dragging the blanket that caught around his shoulders with him as he moved towards the little panel by the front door. He pressed on the live camera feed. In the total darkness of the living room, with the beeping getting more and more impatient, the scene started to become very horror movie-esque. Izuku squinted as the panel showed him a grainy black-and-white footage of the apartment’s front door. He caught sight of spiky blond hair, a sandaled foot smacking impatiently against the tiles as he glared up at the surveillance camera like he knew Izuku was looking at him.

Katsuki ?

Almost reflexively, Izuku punched in the key, and the front door beeped as Katsuki was let in. The blond grumbled as he stalked through, making his way to the elevator.

Izuku stumbled back, immediately grabbing the end of his blanket and using it to wipe the tears from his face. When that wasn’t enough, he formed both of his hands into fists as he rubbed and rubbed at the puffiness. There was no time to find a mirror. Katsuki must be halfway up to his floor by now. Izuku patted his cheeks and shook his head, his curls bouncing along with the movement. He nearly tripped over his feet as he made his way to the front door and braced himself.

Katsuki’s fervent knocks came only a second later.

It was cut short as Izuku cracked open the door, just enough for his face to peek through. The blond lowered his fist, his mouth already wide open as if he was about to yell at Izuku —no doubt for making him wait downstairs for too long— but he frowned when he saw Izuku’s face, looking him up and down. Katsuki was dressed in his pajamas: a loose tank top and even looser basketball shorts. Izuku tried his best to smile up at him. When their eyes met, Katsuki’s eyes seemed to soften.

“Deku.”

“Oh.” Izuku chirped. “Hi, Kacchan!”

“What’s wrong with you?” Katsuki demanded. His hand came up to push the door open wider, shoving his head through. Izuku couldn’t even bring himself to stop him. “Why’s it so goddamn dark?”

Izuku cleared his throat. “What—What’re you doing here?”

At his timid tone, Katsuki drew himself back, standing upright outside the door again. The blond looked down at his feet —an odd, almost shy gesture— before he scoffed and tilted his head.

“You haven’t been bothering me for a week now.” 

“Oh.” Izuku flushed. Has it really been that long? He never went more than a few days without talking to the blond. But with all the Spiderman stuff that’s been going on, he barely even knew the date . Izuku rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Uh, there’s just a lot of schoolwork, I guess. I’ve been busy.”

When Izuku raised his arm, Katsuki caught him by the elbow immediately, pulling him so Izuku stumbled forward, one foot out the door. The blond scowled as he prodded at a scrape he found just above the joint, long and angry as it rode up Izuku’s forearm.

“And what the fuck is this ?” Katsuki hissed, shaking his elbow lightly.

Izuku grimaced. He had forgotten that it was even there . All he did recently was mope around the apartment, after all, and there was no one he really needed to hide his injuries from. In all honesty, he didn’t even remember how he got this particular scrape. A few days ago Izuku tried to pick up the suit again, tried to be Spiderman. But his thoughts ran too timidly, and his movements were too slow. He wasn’t in the right mindset just yet, and ended up paying for it in bruises and scars.

“Oh, uh—” Izuku pulled back, and Katsuki’s grip on him dropped immediately. “I—I fell. Down the… stairs.”

He knew the pathetic lie wouldn’t convince Katsuki. The blond twisted his lips, as if he couldn’t decide between calling Izuku out on his bullshit or letting it pass. He ended up rolling his eyes instead, muttering something underneath his breath that Izuku couldn’t quite catch.

“Move.” Katsuki snapped.

Izuku blinked up at him dumbly.“What?” 

Katsuki looked at him impatiently, and then huffed, rummaging around the plastic grocery bag he held in his hand. Izuku didn’t even realize he was holding anything in the first place. He pulled out a battered CD game case, its cover overbearingly yellow and red and blue. The title read: ALL MIGHT: STREET FIGHT! Izuku’s eyes shone as he caught the words, his lips lifting into an instantaneous smile. It was their favorite game to play as kids. He couldn’t even believe Katsuki still kept it after they had found it lying in the bottom of his closet floor a few years ago, buried under heaps of shirts and socks.

“We’re gonna play this stupid game.” Katsuki waved the glaring case in his hand. “Move.”

Izuku stepped aside and allowed the blond to brush past him. Katsuki grumbled something about the darkness again as he turned on the lights, frowning at the amount of blankets heaped on the couch before kicking them all away. Izuku settled himself on the sofa as Katsuki bent over the game console below his TV. The blond never let Izuku do any of the setting up. He always insisted that he couldn’t do it right.

“If you’re not gonna fuckin’ tell me what’s wrong with you,” Katsuki grumbled, plugging in wires and popping open the CD case, “then at least let me beat the shit out of you as All Might.”

Izuku laughed. His first genuine laugh in a week. Immediately, his chest felt lighter. “That’s not fair!” He pretended to pout. “You’ve been All Might every time we play.”

Izuku flinched when Katsuki tossed him the controller. The blond huffed, and it sounded like the tail end of a laugh.

“Fine.” He said, booting up the console. “I don’t need to be All Might to win anyway.”

Katsuki flopped down on the couch beside him when the TV displayed the game lobby. It was nothing impressive, still the same grainy starting screen Izuku had committed to memory ten whole years ago, but when the music swelled from the speakers it filled him with so much nostalgia that it made him feel warm. Katsuki’s eyes darted around the room as they chose their characters, as if finally noticing something.

“Where’s Auntie?”

Izuku shrugged, not taking his eyes off the screen as his cursor blipped from character to character, hopping to All Might. But he could still feel the blond’s eyes on him. “She’s out on a business trip.”

“For how long?”

“She’s been gone since last Saturday.”

Katsuki went silent for a moment, unmoving, before Izuku saw his player two cursor slide on screen. “Four days.”

Izuku recognized the slight undertone of worry in his voice. He turned to him and smiled.

“Yeah.” Izuku said, softly. “She’s coming back tomorrow.”

Katsuki grumbled something under his breath, before he reached forward for the grocery bag he had left on the coffee table. Izuku noticed that something was inside, but didn’t dare take a look until he was prompted. The blonde just grabbed the whole thing and tossed it into his lap.

“Here.” Katsuki said nonchalantly, before fixing his eyes resolutely on the screen.

Izuku put down his controller and rummaged inside.

And his chest swelled with that special feeling that only seemed to come around when Katsuki was there.

Inside were several bags of his favorite snacks. Seaweed-flavored potato chips. Fried rice crackers. Sour candies. Even a bottle of melon soda. There were also a few of Katsuki’s usual choice of snacks, much healthier than his. Seaweed strips and sweet potato chips. A pocari. Comfort food. Everything that Katsuki knew Izuku would buy only when he was feeling stressed out. He turned to the blond, who adamantly pretended not to notice, flicking through the game characters so quickly that all the introductory voice effects were clipped.

“Kacchan—”

“You owe me for those.” Katsuki grumbled, cutting him short as he pressed the controller’s buttons with more force. “Stupid disgusting food. That shit isn’t good for you.”

Izuku smiled fondly. “So why’d you buy them?”

Katsuki finally turned to him and scowled. “Because you have awful taste.”

Izuku looked down at the bag, fiddling with the handle and twirling the thin plastic around his fingers. He had half a mind to take a snack out and rip into it immediately, as he would on any other day. And then, Katsuki would scold him for eating too quickly. Like he always did. But Izuku wasn’t hungry. He hasn’t felt hungry, not really, in the past week. If it wasn’t for his mother constantly pushing a plate at him at dinner, he wouldn’t eat at all. Katsuki shot him a frown when he heard the rustle of the plastic bag being set down. Izuku picked up his controller again.

There was a deafening silence at the uncharacteristic behavior.

Katsuki sighed, shifting to bodily face him.

“Look, Deku,” he said, so gently that Izuku had a hard time connecting the words to his voice. “I’m not gonna ask again.”

But Izuku didn’t look at him. Only started toying with the buttons of his controller, passing the cursor back and forth across the screen. He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what excuse to give this time other than the truth, which was slowly clawing its way up his throat. He didn’t have any more lies left to give . With every day that passed, he was tired of pretending that he was okay. And with Katsuki, it was all the more difficult. Especially now. Especially with this ; the soft voice and the video game and the snacks, which Izuku knew was just some masqueraded intervention. And he was grateful for it. He truly was . But he hadn’t braced himself for Katsuki to come digging for answers. Not just yet. 

“Izuku.” Katsuki reached out and gently pried the controller from his shaking hands. “Stop.”

Izuku . There it was again. It had only been two weeks since Katsuki had called him that through text, at the Shibuya incident. ‘Izuku’ moments were very few and far between, and usually didn’t mean anything good. Now, the sound of it summoned a well of tears in his eyes that he had been trying so hard to quell.

“You—” Izuku’s voice broke. “You never call me that unless I’m in trouble.”

He felt the first streak of tears run down his face then, and he immediately brought up his hands to catch them. The room was quiet for a moment as Izuku’s breaths hitched in that desperate attempt to stop a rising sob. Katsuki sighed, tapping his cheek playfully, something he always did when Izuku cried time and time again when they were kids and he was unsure how to comfort him.

“Stupid.” The blond shook his head gently. “You’re not in any fuckin’ trouble, I’m just—”

Katsuki ran a hand through his hair, ruffling up the spikes. He blew out a breath, as if unsure if he should say something, looking away.

“I’m…” he grimaced, “sorry.”

A beat of silence.

Izuku was so stunned that his tears actually stopped forming. “What?”

“Are you really gonna make me fuckin’ say it again?” Katsuki grumbled, rubbing a sheepish hand behind his neck. “I’m sorry , or whatever. If it was something I did.”

Izuku actually put down the controller this time, shifting on the couch to face Katsuki, both legs folded underneath him. The blond was looking down at his lap, at the tight curl of his fists. Izuku didn’t know what he was thinking, but at the next second he was holding them in his own, feeling the stiffness of Katsuki’s knuckles at the shock of the action, and then the warmth when he relaxed, his fingers unfurling to accept Izuku’s. He was surprised when the blond didn’t withdraw, and for a moment the hand in his didn’t feel real. Like he was just imagining the callousness, the soft skin just at the joint of his fingers.

“No.” Izuku said. “No, no— it’s not—” he shook his head, “I’m not… like this because of you.”

Katsuki looked up at him. “Then what is it?”

Izuku froze. There it was. The silence that swelled between them now was where a lie should be. He should say something. Anything to ease the growing divot between Katsuki’s brows, the pensive way he was looking at him. But Izuku couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’s done so much lying already. All of it to the people he loved most. He felt tears beading at the edges of his eyes, slowly building, waiting to fall. Katsuki deserved an excuse. He deserved that at least . But with the way he was looking at him now, Izuku didn’t trust himself to say something that wouldn’t mess everything up.

“I—” Izuku withdrew his hands. “ I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Kacchan.” He hastily wiped the tears away. “I—I know you’re trying to talk to me. And I’m so thankful. Really, I’m so—” Izuku let out a wobbly sigh. “Can—Can we just play some games?”

Katsuki regarded him for a moment. And whatever pleading look he found written over Izuku’s face must’ve been enough.

“Yeah.” He sighed, relenting. But it sounded a lot like defeat. “Fine.”

Izuku watched the side of Katsuki’s face as he turned back to the TV, picking up his controller, the speakers now blipping with the movements of his cursor. Suddenly Izuku felt that his words hadn’t been enough. Not judging by the disgruntled look on the blond’s face, at least, which was more worried than upset. 

“Hey, Kacchan.” Izuku said gently, willing the genuity of his words to come through. “It’s not because of you,” he sighed. “I just— I just don’t want to talk about it.”

Katsuki turned to him in one last act of understanding. 

“I know,” his tone was soft, eyebrows drawn. Then, his voice lifted as he faced the TV again, lips sharpening into a smirk. “Now shut up and lemme crush you at this stupid thing.”

Izuku laughed, something from the bottom of his chest, and he picked up his controller just as All Might’s voice started to boom through the speakers.

He didn’t know how long they sat there and played round after round of this repetitive game. No words needed to be said as the soundtrack blared, the music picking up as they fought. But there wasn’t silence. Not exactly. In fact, it was the opposite. The previously stifled air was cleared with incessant shouts and yells. Izuku and Katsuki were constantly nudging each other, trying to get the other distracted, to fumble the buttons. Izuku would dig his elbow into Katsuki’s hip, and the blond would push him so hard he fell across the length of the couch. On and on it went like this. For a moment, nothing existed to Izuku beyond the four corners of his TV screen, beyond the semi-dark living room and the warm press of Katsuki’s shoulder against his.

“Homework.” The blond said out of the blue in the middle of a match.

Izuku barely caught the mumbled word beyond the clicks of his buttons. “Huh?”

“Have you done it?” Katsuki asked, neither one of them tearing their eyes away from the screen. “The one for algebra.”

“No.” Izuku said hurriedly. Katsuki’s character was low on health. He was trying to run towards the edge of the screen to escape. “I’ve actually been pretty behind on schoolwork.” Katsuki’s character got stuck on one of the hovering obstacles. Izuku grinned as he launched a special move against him. “Come here, Kacchan!”

At one point, they had turned off the living room lights just to get immersed in the game. The space exploded with color now as a blast lit up the screen, a neon yellow swathe swallowing their faces in its glow. Katsuki’s character disintegrated immediately, charring to dust. After Izuku’s character got one last winning pose, the speakers blasted ‘K.O! Player One wins!’ . Izuku shot up from the couch and whooped, waving his controller in the air. This was probably his hundredth win of the night, but the thrill never got any dimmer. Katsuki was playing pretty badly. Which was odd, since he used to always demolish Izuku when they were kids.

“Fuck you!” The blond threw a couch pillow at him. It hit Izuku on the back of his head. 

When Izuku was done gloating, looking back at the match recap and comparing their scores, Katsuki scoffed and put the controller aside.

“You’re not fuckin’ behind.” Katsuki grumbled. When Izuku turned around and shot him a confused look, he rolled his eyes. “On schoolwork, I mean. I haven’t done it either. And I’m never behind.”

It was Izuku's turn to roll his eyes this time, putting aside his controller too in favor of flopping back on the couch. The cushions swallowed him whole, and he pulled on the corner of a blanket to wrap it around himself. He shifted to face Katsuki with a grin.

“We can do it together tomorrow, if you want.” Izuku said. “You can come over.”

It probably wasn’t a wise decision to make plans so soon. Izuku’s moods were full of ups and downs the past week. Well, more of the latter rather than the former. Tonight was the first night he felt remotely fine . And who was to say he would be in the mood for company again tomorrow? 

But Izuku looked at Katsuki’s smirking face, his eyes softly tired from the glare of the screen, and decided it would probably be fine, if it was Katsuki. It was always fine if it was him.

Izuku started to wonder if he would have even opened the door tonight if it had been somebody else buzzing his apartment.

Katsuki shrugged. “If you insist.”

“Is three okay?”

“Whatever.”

Izuku yawned, which only made Katsuki follow suit, both of them cozily burrowed between blankets and cushions now. The TV screen still showcased the game lobby, asking them if they wanted to start another round.

“What time is it?” Izuku asked blearily.

Katsuki picked up his phone. “Almost two in the morning.”

“What?!” Izuku startled, rubbing his eyes. “Don’t you usually sleep at, like, nine?”

Katsuki threw yet another pillow at him. “I sleep whenever I want to!”

Izuku simply grabbed it, laughing, and tucked it beside his head to lean against. There was only a thin layer of blankets separating him and Katsuki on the couch now. Izuku could practically feel the blond’s body heat radiating through the fabric. He couldn’t help but lean towards it. Katsuki’s body always ran hot. It made him the perfect nap buddy during their kindergarten days.

Katsuki cleared his throat. “I can go, if you want.”

Izuku startled back upright. He hadn’t even felt his eyelids closing until he had to open them back up again. Izuku shook his head fervently. It felt childish to say, but he didn’t want Katsuki to go. A part of him was afraid that once he fell asleep —once Katsuki was gone — the silence would come back and so would the sadness. And he would have to deal with it all over again.

“No!” Izuku tried his best to sound awake, grabbing the remote from between them. “Let’s watch a movie.”

Katsuki shrugged, burrowing deeper in the blankets as he tried to stifle a yawn. “You pick.”

Izuku beamed. “You know what I’m gonna pick.”

“Yeah,” the blond rolled his eyes. “I know.”

Izuku giggled as he pressed on the buttons. “Okay, so you’re not allowed to get mad.”

Katsuki still groaned when the title screen lit up the room. It was an All Might movie that detailed his backstory. Izuku’s favorite one. He began to recite the opening lines underneath his breath, a barely hidden grin splitting his face in half as he sank deeper into the couch. To his surprise, he heard Katsuki laugh— actually laugh, not one of those half-hidden huffs that only vaguely sounded cheerful. When Izuku turned, Katsuki was already looking at him, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“When’s the last time you watched this?” He nudged his side.

Izuku thought. It hadn’t been that long ago. “Last week.”

Katsuki shook his head, turning back to the TV just as young, pre-serum All Might popped on screen. “What a fuckin’ nerd.”

But Izuku couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the blond.

“Hey,” he nudged him back. “Don’t pretend like you’re not as obsessed with this movie as I was. It literally made you sign up for jujutsu, so technically you were more obsessed.”

“Fuck you.” Katsuki shot him a glare. “I signed up for jujutsu because I wanted to.”

“Oh yeah?” Izuku raised a challenging brow. “And not because you heard Torino-sensei was gonna be there?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, grumbling. “Shut up. I can’t hear the movie.”

Izuku laughed, leaning his head back against the couch. 

He didn’t even last for a quarter of the movie. The room had been quiet —save for the pleasant buzz of voices from the TV— the couch had been warm, and something had been soft . Really soft. He heard Katsuki make a remark, something that probably was some sort of snipe at the movie, but he didn’t catch the words. Nothing sounded like words anymore as Izuku’s gaze began to unfocus. He heard Katsuki maybe say his name, the first time irritated and the next hushed, almost apologetic. And before he knew it his eyes were fully shut, and he was leaning his weight against something that didn’t feel like pillows. He felt a warm touch against his cheek, something bristling his hair, and then he was gone, the exhaustion of the past week collapsing on him all at once.

Katsuki wasn’t used to doing things like this.

The whole checking-up-on-a-friend-because-he-hasn’t-texted-in-three-days thing. The spend-a-week’s-worth-of-allowance-on-snacks-to-make-a-friend-feel-better thing. The keep-a-ratty-CD-game-because-a-friend-told-him-not-to-throw-it-away thing. The get-up-when-he’s-dead-tired-to-go-to-a-friend’s-house-because-he- knows -something-is-wrong thing. That’s a lot of things, Katsuki thought to himself. He really had to get his shit together and stop doing them.

Truth be told, he didn’t know if he should be worried or angry. Because on one hand he was being downright ghosted by his own best friend— which still icked him out to say, because really ? Best friend ? Were they in fucking elementary school ? Katsuki wouldn’t have cared if it had been literally anyone but Izuku who was icing him out. But because it was the freckle-faced, curly-haired dipshit, he found himself replaying the conversations they had in the past two weeks in his head and trying to figure out where it all had gone wrong. Where he had fucked it up. Because it had to be something Katsuki had done, right? Kirishima was always telling him to be nicer.

Katsuki thought he was nice. To Izuku, anyway. Well, at least he assumed the true meaning of his not-too-nice words came through. Izuku was always the only one who could decipher his morse code of scoffs and curses, after all. He spoke fluent Katsuki.

Didn’t he?

Oh fuck , what if Izuku thought he was an asshole ?

That thought alone had instilled the fear of god in him —for a reason he hasn’t really allowed himself to unpack— so he hauled ass to the nearest convenience store at nine in the evening when he would usually be asleep , picking out the dumb idiot’s favorite snacks that just hilariously all happened to come in green packaging. Talk about being devoted to the aesthetic, Katsuki thought to himself as he waited in line, telepathically willing the old man in front of him to find the correct amount of goddamn change before he strangled it out of him himself. But Katsuki forced himself to stay on the tile he was standing on and just wait. Because Izuku would be upset with him if he found out that Katsuki got his snacks by some unethical means. And then Katsuki cursed at himself inwardly because why the fuck would he care what the idiot thought of him ?

Again, not allowed to unpack.

When Katsuki marched over to the Midoriyas’ apartment, an indignant rant already at the tip of his tongue as he was in the elevator up to their floor, he still wasn’t sure if he was more angry or worried. And then, when Izuku opened the door and Katsuki saw his reddened eyes, the sad dip of his lips before he forced on a smile, he decided on worried . Definitely worried.

And then he decided he could try being nice for one night. Not Katsuki-level nice, but Izuku -level nice. Minimal cursing. Genuine words. Not thinly-veiled behind jabs or insults.

And that led him here, on the sofa, with Izuku’s weight leaned against his side, full and warm like some sort of human weighted blanket. Katsuki had noticed the dark circles below the puffy green eyes, so he decided he would allow it this once. Just this once. It wasn’t like Katsuki was enjoying it or anything. It wasn’t like he could detect how Izuku smelled like apples and mint and laundry detergent, the same since they were kids. It wasn’t like Izuku’s hair tickled his jaw in a way that was almost pleasant, the soft pressure of his cheek against his shoulder making his heart run laps around his ribcage. And —most important of them all— it wasn’t like Katsuki reached out to touch said cheek, to feel the soft strands of green hair between his fingertips, before he reciprocated by leaning back , resting his head against Izuku’s curls, slowly falling asleep along with him as the movie went on and on and on.

His mother would laugh at him if she saw them now. No, she would cackle like the hag she was, and would probably whip out her phone to take a picture because she was just pure evil. And yet Katsuki found that he probably wouldn’t be as mortified as he thought he would be at the concept of it.

God . He had to stop hanging out with Kaminari. That dumb idiot was making him soft with all his pining over Troll Doll— or whoever that moody, purple-haired guy’s name was from their econ class with the perpetual poker face. 

But the peace was short-lived. Katsuki was startled awake by movement. Groggily, he lifted his head off of Izuku’s, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. At first he thought that maybe it was already morning, and Auntie Inko had come back home. But when he looked around he was met with the same dark living room, the TV in the middle of rolling out the end credits of the movie they were watching. He dug around under the blankets for his phone. The time read four-thirty-three in the morning. 

Katsuki was about to go back to sleep, chalking it up to his light-sleeper nature, able to be startled awake by anything, before he heard a whimper.

It was Izuku. Katsuki looked down at him carefully, trying not to wake him. The freckled-boy was murmuring something in his sleep. But not his usual nerdy murmurs, which was more peaceful and monotone than this. No, Izuku actually sounded distressed , dark brows furrowing even in sleep. And then, his body started to curl in on himself, burrowing closer into Katsuki’s side, the scarred hand that was resting between them coming up to grab at something, anything for comfort; blankets, a pillow, before it settled on the hem of Katsuki’s shirt, squeezing tight as if he might fall if he let go. 

Izuku often had nightmares when they were children. Night terrors , Auntie Inko would whisper to Katsuki’s mom, because of his overactive imagination. So Katsuki knew what to do. It wasn’t his first time seeing Izuku suffer from one of these. Still, a slight squeeze in his chest appeared, time and time again.

“Deku.” Katsuki reached over to shake his shoulder gently. “ Deku .”

It didn’t work. In fact, Izuku flinched away from the touch, burying his face into the crook of Katsuki’s neck, as if the person who tried to wake him up and the person who he burrowed in for solace were not one and the same. Katsuki frowned. It was never usually too hard to wake him. 

“Deku.” This time, he patted his cheek. “Deku, wake up.”

Still no luck. Katsuki reached around and grabbed his shoulders again, trying to ease him off, to stop the way his body was curling tighter and tighter into himself. But when Izuku’s grip on Katsuki’s shirt slipped, his green eyes shot open.

“Deku—”

Izuku awoke with a sharp intake of breath, his gaze flitting around the dark corners of the living room, as if scouring for something in the shadows, before it finally landed on Katsuki, his breaths leaving him in sharp, shallow bursts. Izuku was panicking . Both of his scarred hands came up in front of his face, as if to shield himself from Katsuki. But something seemed to give out when their gazes met. Katsuki kept his hand steady on Izuku’s shoulder, willing him not to freak out. 

“Calm down.” Katsuki said, slowly. Izuku’s eyes were still wild, like he couldn’t recognize where he was. “You’re fine.”

Izuku took in a breath. “Kacchan?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki nodded. “You good?”

Izuku stilled, a brief moment of hesitation overtaking him, before he shook his head, his hands coming down from its protective stance. Immediately, his freckled face crumpled, and before Katsuki could even register it, the smaller boy shot forward and wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s middle as he sobbed, making him fall back on the couch.

“It’s okay.” Katsuki was unsure what to do. His hands came up to hesitantly pat his back, but the pats quickly turned into gentle, soothing rubs as the sobs worsened, across the length of Izuku’s shoulder blades and down the dip of his spine. Everything and nothing felt foreign all at once. “It’s okay.”

Katsuki continued until he could feel Izuku’s breathing grow even, the sobs petering out to small hiccups. There was an uncomfortable feeling in his chest that rose at every sad little sound that Izuku emitted. It made his touches gentler.

“Nightmare?” Katsuki asked. He could feel Izuku nod against his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”

In all the years Katsuki has borne witness to Izuku’s night terrors, he has never seen him as distraught as this. It felt like even now, even as his eyes were open, Izuku believed that he was still in the nightmare.

“I…” Izuku turned his face to the side so he could talk. “Something bad.” His voice was still frail and hesitant.  “Really, really bad .”

“What’s bad?”

“Me.” Izuku’s voice faltered. “ I did it.”

Katsuki continued rubbing his shoulder. “In your dream?”

“It felt… so real.”

“Well, it isn’t.” Katsuki insisted. “You’re the goodiest fuckin’ two-shoes I know.”

Izuku shook his head. “You were there.” He tried to push off of Katsuki, one hand against his chest, and he leveled himself just enough for Katsuki to see the fear in his green eyes. His pupils were blown and skittish, searching for something on his face. “You were there, and you were hurt, and I couldn’t—”

Katsuki pulled him in again. Partly to soothe him, but also partly so he wouldn’t have to see Izuku look at him like that. Scared . Like he was looking at a ghost.

“Stupid, I’m right here.”

Izuku sighed, sagging against his chest. “I know.”

A silence lapsed between them. Katsuki didn’t know how long it lasted. Only knew that, in those scarce minutes that passed, he was praying to any god that existed that Izuku couldn’t feel the way his heart was hammering against his chest.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Katsuki asked again.

“Yeah.” Izuku’s reply was barely a mumble. “Tired.”

Katsuki sighed. It felt like that was all Izuku told him these days. That he was tired . That he was busy . That he was fine . He wondered when those phrases became such a common thing to use between them. Had they drifted apart? Is that what this was? Izuku used to tell him everything . So much so that Katsuki had to tell him to shut up. Not out of actual annoyance, but because if Katsuki didn’t say anything mean he was afraid that Izuku would find out how he truly felt. That he could hear Izuku talk on and on and on for days. But now, that was the least of his worries.

How did he let Izuku spiral down like this? How did he not notice ?

“I wish you would…” Katsuki let out a long breath, “I wish you would tell me what’s wrong with you.” He looked up at the ceiling. “You’re fuckin’ scaring me, dipshit.”

Silence. Katsuki’s lips twisted in thought. 

“I know.” He relented, although it hurt.  “You can’t tell me.”

A thought lanced through him like a thunderstrike. Was Izuku being bullied ? Would that be the reason why he got all those injuries? He tried so hard to hide them from Katsuki —under long sleeves or messy hair or a barely-suppressed limp— but he always knew . And Katsuki, in turn, didn’t think too much of it when Izuku insisted they were the consequences of his own clumsy actions. It wasn’t hard to believe, after all, and the injuries always disappeared after a few days. But as the weeks went on, Izuku wouldn’t even look at his face when he gave those excuses. And the thought of someone beating up Izuku —too-nice, too- gentle Izuku— well, that made his blood boil .

“Is there someone I gotta beat up?” Katsuki said into the silence. But the freckled-boy remained unmoving against his chest. Katsuki rubbed his shoulder, trying to get his attention. “Can you say something ?”

When he still got no response, Katsuki finally looked down. And oh , the nerd was sleeping . So peacefully. The most peaceful Katsuki has seen him in weeks. One of his scarred fists were tightly curled into the fabric of Katsuki’s tank top, the other splayed by his ribs, encompassing the rise and falls of Katsuki’s chest that grew to be more and more erratic. Izuku looked so serene like this. His hair was almost black in the darkness, sleep-mussed and wild, falling over his closed eyes. The breaths that Katsuki could feel against his chest were gentle and warm. For a moment, he was overcome with the urge to brush Izuku’s wild curls back, away from his face. The nerd really needed a haircut. Even when it was styled —well, as styled as it could be— the strands still got in the way of his eyes sometimes. Like when the wind blew, or when Izuku would turn abruptly to Katsuki when he said something he found funny, and Katsuki would always wish he could see the green eyes that came with the laugh, but that damn hair—

Katsuki stiffened.

What. The. Fuck. 

Fuck no. Fuck no .

Katsuki looked down at the sleeping boy, and dared himself not to breathe. Izuku stirred, burrowing his face deeper into Katsuki’s shirt, mumbling something under his breath before he stilled again. Katsuki’s breath caught in his throat when Izuku’s head tilted, just slightly, so that he could actually see his face under the swoop of his hair. His eyes were still puffy from crying, and there were dried tear tracks marking the skin of his cheeks. Katsuki wanted to reach out and wipe them off. He wanted to stay here just so Izuku would never wake up, if it meant that he could have this peace, even if it was only for another few hours—

Katsuki cursed under his breath.

He had to get out of here .

Silently, and as much as it pained him to do, he slipped out from underneath Izuku, gently easing his body onto the couch cushions instead. The freckled-boy stirred, if only for a moment, his hands insistently reaching out for something until Katsuki slipped him a pillow. The blond smiled at the sight of Izuku burrowing his face into it. Always a heavy sleeper. He tucked another blanket around Izuku’s shoulders. The damn nerd always got cold easily. Sometimes Katsuki wondered how they could be complete polar opposites and still, he was—

His thoughts sputtered to a stop.

Was what ?

That was something he wasn’t ready to unpack just yet.

Katsuki dug around for his phone, opting to send Izuku a text so he wouldn’t freak out in the morning. The glow of his screen actually stung his eyes as he typed.

[KACCHAN]

im headin back. homework at 3 don’t forget

As soon as he pressed send, the irritating, beeping ringtone that Izuku had set for Katsuki’s texts rang throughout the living room. Katsuki nearly dropped his phone at the loud intrusion. He immediately rummaged the couch to find the offending device, grimacing.

“ Shit .” He muttered under his breath when he found it in the dip between two cushions, just by Izuku’s legs. Damn nerd forgot to put it on silent. 

The mound of blankets stirred. “Kacchan?”

Katsuki silenced the phone and placed it on the coffee table, shushing him. “Sleep.”

Izuku shifted, not getting up from the couch but turning his body to face him, blinking up sleepily. “Kacchan.”

“I told you to sleep .” Katsuki scowled, because if he didn’t, god knows what stupid, endearing expression he’d have on his face instead.

Izuku yawned as he watched Katsuki clean up the coffee table, placing the remote and controllers where it belonged, gathering the snacks in the plastic bag and setting it by the foot of the couch. He did everything gently, afraid to wake up Izuku even further. When he crouched down by the console to take the game disc back out, Izuku spoke.

“Did you…” he mumbled from behind him. “Did you lose the games on purpose?”

Katsuki turned to him briefly, his cheeks flaming as he struggled to find an excuse. Thank god the room was so dark. Yes , he had , and what about it? That's what friends did , right? He knew how hard the damn nerd tried to beat him at games, so it was only appropriate that he toned down his skills for one night. But how the fuck did Izuku pick up on that ? He thought he was being subtle .

Before Katsuki could fire off a scathing remark, Izuku gave him a sleepy smile as his eyes drifted back close. “Thank you.”

Katsuki scoffed disbelievingly, muttering to no one in particular. “Whatever, nerd.”

When Katsuki finally slipped out of the apartment, the warmth in his cheeks hadn't died down. The rest of his sullen walk back home was intermittently interrupted by stupidly messy hair, stupidly warm hands, and stupid, stupid, stupidly sleepy smiles. He kicked viciously at a pebble on the road when that familiar feeling in his chest rose, something that felt too hot and fond. It clattered across the pavement.

God .

He was fucking screwed .

Izuku was woken up the next morning by gentle taps on his shoulder.

“Izuku.” A voice crooned at him. When he didn’t budge, the taps became shakes, jostling him. “Izuku, wake up.”

“Wha—” Izuku’s eyes snapped open, blearily blinking up at the face that hovered above him. “Mom?”

“Hi honey.” His mom drew back, smiling at him fondly. But Izuku could still pick up the traces of worry behind her features. She tried to hide it all the time. “You fell asleep on the sofa.”

Izuku sat up on the couch, the blankets that were tucked around his shoulders slumping into his lap. He rubbed his fists against his eyes. His mom had drawn the curtains back, and light spilled over the living room, warming everything the sun touched. The blankets felt too hot now, and he kicked them away, stifling a yawn. That was the best sleep he had all week . His back hurt a little from the stiffness of the couch, but the exhaustion that had been sitting behind his eyes was mostly gone now.

“You’re home.” He said, finally, as he got up.

His mom hummed as she wheeled in her luggage. “I told you I’d be coming back around noon, didn’t I?”

It was already noon ? Izuku looked around for his phone, and found it resting on the coffee table. He tapped the phone screen. Twelve thirty-seven. That was… what? Maybe nine hours of sleep, at best? Izuku ducked his head as he yawned again, stretching out his limbs. Why did he still feel so tired ?

“Oh.”Izuku hummed.  “Yeah.”

His mom’s eyes swept over the living room, eyeing the mound of blankets and pillows. “What were you up to last night?”

“Kacchan came over and he brought some snacks.” Izuku said. “We played video games.”

“That sounds nice.” His mom smiled as she unpacked her suitcase. “Katsuki hasn’t been around in a long time. I wish I got to see him.”

“You’ll see him today.” Izuku said as he checked his phone, remembering the plans they made. “He’s coming over to do some homework.”

Izuku slumped back on the couch, allowing himself to go through his messages for the first time in a week. There were some from Kirishima, asking him about homework and then growing worried when he didn’t reply. There was Iida warning him about his worsening attendance, then asking him if he was alright, offering to speak to the teachers about excusing his absences if it was over something serious. There were too much to count from Ochako, who was trying to reach him on all sorts of social media platforms that Izuku even forgot he even had. 

And Katsuki’s — well, if Ochako’s messages were too much to count then Katsuki’s were endless . It started out with the blond getting angry at him for the silence before it quickly dove into genuine worry. And when that wasn’t answered, Katsuki used Izuku’s inbox as his personal diary. Listing details of every topic that was discussed in all the classes Izuku missed. Making snide comments about some stupid thing one of their friends had said at lunch. Sending random links to articles about an upcoming All Might movie. Writing casual updates on his jujutsu practices, prattling on about which fighter had got on his nerves this time around. Izuku’s eyes started to well with tears as he took it all in. There were even pictures , for god’s sake. Of a blurry Kirishima sticking his tongue out to the camera. Of a bowl of katsudon. Of an All Might gachapon machine. Katsuki just pushed through the silence and treated Izuku like he always did, even while everybody else walked on eggshells around him. Always believing that Izuku would come back. Giving him time.

A heavy feeling settled in his chest. Guilt . He had made all his friends worry, and for that? All he did was sit in his room and feel sorry for himself. Izuku slipped his phone into his pocket and rubbed his hands down his face. He had to pull himself together. One week was plenty of time to mourn, to beat himself up. 

But why did it still feel so difficult to move ?

“Izuku.” His mom called out to him from the kitchen. “Is something wrong?”

Izuku looked up abruptly. She was eyeing him expectantly, as if anticipating a reply for a question Izuku didn’t catch. He flashed her a quick smile, willing himself to release the tension in his shoulders.

“No, mom. It’s alright.” He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

His mom frowned at him, stepping forward from behind the counter. “You know you can always talk to me, right?”

“I do.” Izuku sighed, rubbing his fists against his eyes as he got up from the couch. “Sorry, mom. I’m just tired.”

“Why don’t you go on upstairs and sleep some more?” His mom smiled, rubbing a soothing hand on his shoulder. Izuku was taller than her now. She needed to tilt her chin up just to look at him. “I promise I won’t bother you.”

“You never bother me.” Izuku shook his head, smiling softly. He bent down to press a kiss on her cheek. “Love you, mom.”

“I love you too, Izuku.” His mom beamed up at him. She patted his shoulder, ushering him away. “Now go get some rest.”

Izuku did so willingly, dragging himself up the stairs and into bed. He had expected it to be difficult to go back to sleep, like all the previous restless nights he had spent under the same covers, below the panes of the same window. But the very moment his head hit the pillow, he was gone. It was like all the exhaustion he tried so hard to tamp down had finally caught up to him, all at once, unforgivingly. And he was defenseless against the dark pull of sleep.

Izuku was woken up by sharp knocks on his door. Which he must’ve ignored for a long time, because the knocks quickly devolved into banging. From his abrupt movement to sit up in bed, he could see his doorknob rattling with the force of the insistent thumps.

“Izuku!” A voice practically yelled from the other side. “Izuku!”

Izuku scrambled out of bed, twisting the key jammed into the knob to unlock his door. It had been a force of habit to keep it locked at this point. When he yanked the door open, he was greeted with the sight of an out-of-breath Ochako, who had been leaning so heavily against the doorframe that she nearly fell forward.

“Wha—” Izuku fumbled to catch her shoulder, steadying her. “Ochako?”

“Oh!” Ochako yelped sheepishly, righting herself. When she looked up at him, her face dropped. “God.” She murmured. “Izuku, are you okay?”

Izuku flustered under her sympathetic scrutiny. Did he really look that bad? Save for the bags under his eyes, he didn’t really think his exhaustion showed. Maybe it was also the bedhead. Or the shock of not having seen him in a week.

“I’m fine. Was just sleeping.” Izuku smiled, rubbing a hand behind his neck. “Uh, what’re you doing here?”

At the question, Ochako immediately perked up, the urgency coming back to her tenfold. “I didn’t know if I should be bothering you about this, especially since, um—” she hesitated with her words, before choosing to wave it away. “Anyway, you weren’t answering your phone!”

“Oh, I didn’t hear it—” Izuku frowned. He always made sure to keep the ringer on, especially when it came to Ochako’s notifications, since she was heavily involved in his Spiderman vigilante work. When he fished the device out of his pocket, he was surprised to see that the settings were changed. “It’s… on silent.”

Izuku pursed his lips. Huh . He didn’t remember messing with his ringer settings. Maybe he had done it the previous night and just didn’t notice? Izuku could hardly remember half the things he did when he was sleepy, after all. Before he could dwell on it any further, Ochako continued her flurry of words.

“I heard on the police radio that they found the stabber. From the shoe he left behind. They found him at his home.” She was looking down at her phone, tapping furiously on the screen. “But he managed to get away in a car. There’s a police chase right now.” 

She turned the device towards him, pushing it into his face. It was a livestream of a news channel. A broadcaster was prattling on about a high-speed chase, displaying footage that was being taken live by police cameras and civilians. They were trying to block the roads, but to no avail.

The stabber . After spending time with Katsuki last night, he had almost forgotten that the man had been haunting his thoughts for the past week. A foul, unsettling feeling seized his chest. This was the man who had killed that woman, who had hurt so many others. This was the man who he and Ochako had been trying to track down for the past month. And the police were finally on the brink of catching him. Izuku watched as the cars sped across the screen, a zoomed-in footage trying to look through the stabber’s tinted windows. Izuku vaguely caught sight of the man’s dark hair.

He could catch him. He could catch him easily . There were tall buildings flanking the streets that the car was speeding through. And there would be more, in the area he was headed towards. Already Izuku’s mind was racing with ways on how to apprehend him. Silently, his fingers twitched on his sides, already growing restless, wanting to reach for his suit.

And then, a dark thought stuttered everything to a stop.

What if he failed again ?

Ochako looked up at him with concern when he remained silent, watching the news channel with intent. “Izuku, I know you haven’t been… feeling well the past week, and you totally don’t have to—”

Izuku shook his head. Pull yourself together , he scolded himself. A car wasn’t going to be the thing that prevented this man from being brought to justice, not if he could help it. Izuku forced himself to remember the woman. Her green eyes. The way she fell limp in his arms. No . That wasn’t happening again. Not in the hands of that man. Izuku was going to right his own wrongs, finally take back the losses of the past week. He had been stagnant for far too long. This was the opportunity he needed to get back in the game. 

And if he failed? Well, at least he had tried .

“No.” Izuku could feel the familiar feeling of confidence rise inside him. Something that had been gone for so long that it almost felt foreign. The thrill of the fight. “No, Ochako. I have to.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her lightly. She squeaked. “ I’m the one who let him go. I’m going to be the one to bring him in.”

Immediately, Izuku darted for the suit hidden underneath his bed, already halfway out of his pajamas when Ochako stepped into his room and locked the door, knowing the drill. She was beaming at him, hopping on her feet as Izuku tugged the latex on himself.

“Good!” Ochako clapped. “Good! That’s what I like to hear, Spiderman!”

Izuku stumbled as he struggled with the zipper. “What’s the time?”

“Almost two.”

“Crap.” Izuku grimaced, tugging on his mask. “Kacchan’s supposed to be coming over in, like, an hour.”

“Then you better hurry!” Ochako said. She extended her hand. “Here, take my phone. The location’s on it.”

“Thanks.” Izuku accepted it, already tracking the direction where the stabber was headed, where he might end up so he could cut him mid-way. “Stay here until I come back. Make sure Kacchan doesn’t go into my room if I’m late.”

Izuku wrenched his window open. A warm summer breeze greeted him. He perched on the sill and gave Ochako one last look and a thumbs up.

“Will do.” Ochako grinned, returning the action. “Good luck, Spidey!”

Izuku laughed. “Thanks!”

The route to the chase was a quick one. Izuku was familiar with the movement of the roads there, where it branched and in what direction, particularly towards the areas where traffic thinned out. The stabber must be making towards the highway, aiming to get out of the bustle of city streets. Izuku swung between buildings, catching his weight with his strings like a crazed pendulum. He didn’t need to think as he maneuvered himself through the busy structures, feeling his muscle memory overtake him once more. It was almost freeing, if the urgency in the back of his mind didn’t blare so loudly. He propelled himself forward, and soon enough the buildings thinned out so much that he had to rely on street lights.

Izuku caught the murmurs and stares of people as he swung overhead, some of them even honking at him from their cars. He knew that most of it was out of disapproval. That if he chanced a look down, he would catch scornful glares instead of claps and cheers. The quiet feeling of shame threatened to climb up his throat, but he swallowed it down and focused on the stabber. On the number plate from the news footage that he had already memorized in his head. He just had to find the criminal, catch him, and it would all be over. 

He heard the police sirens before he could even see the chase. And then the flashing red and blue lights appeared on the horizon, two cop cars zipping behind a black van, its sirens blaring loudly. They were too far behind to catch up, too many civilian vehicles interspersed between them, too much time spent on weaving and avoiding. But Izuku could make it. He knew he could. He just had to get to the front of the chase. The scenery whipped past him as sharply as the wind did. To his left was the vast expanse of a spanning river, calm and serene despite everything. When the right moment came, he let go of his web and dropped down on a civilian car, careful not to dent the roof. He leaned his head over the driver seat window, and a pale-faced, gaping woman stared at him. A small boy in the backseat started jumping up and down.

“Keep your eyes on the road!” Izuku yelled, pointing in front of them. The lady shook her head, snapping herself out of her shock, but kept glancing at him through the glass. “I need you to bring me forward! Can you do that?”

There was a moment of brief hesitation before she nodded frantically. Izuku could feel the car accelerate as he splayed his hands on the hood, making sure he stuck on. When they came close enough to the vehicle in front of them —a civilian truck— he jumped and gave her a thumbs up.

The traffic was denser where he was now, and soon he could hop between the hoods of cars with ease. But the denseness only meant that they were coming up on a highway intersection. There’s not much time left now to catch the criminal. If he branched off in the He stopped when he finally landed on a cop car, the one closest to the black van. He wrenched his head over the side again and tapped on the window until the cop slid the glass down.

“I can jump the distance!” Izuku yelled immediately, pointing at the stabber’s van, not giving the uniformed man any time to scowl or tell him to back down. He could already see it forming in the deep, disapproving grimace of his features. “You’re not gonna get him in time before he gets off the highway!”

The man glanced to his right, where his partner sat. They regarded each other hesitantly before the cop twisted back to face him. “What do you need me to do?”

Izuku grinned under his mask. “Get a little closer,” he said. “A little closer is all I need.”

The cop nodded, and Izuku hauled himself back on the roof of the car as it sped up. They were gaining some ground, not much, but just enough. Izuku inched closer to the front of the car, creeping on the hood, careful not to block the driver’s view. The van was more than a few feet away from them, and it twisted along the length of the road, driving erratically. The stabber must know what Izuku was trying to do. He fixed his footing on the headlights, bracing himself. He waited. Waited until the van lined up perfectly with his line of sight. Waited until he could almost see the trajectory of his jump, clear like a thread. 

And then, he leapt.

It felt like an eternity before his foot caught on the van’s back bumper. He hitched his weight against the vehicle immediately, sticking his entire body against the backside. Izuku’s breath stuttered in his chest, whooping out a cry of success. He didn’t give himself long to celebrate before he clambered up the van, scaling across the roof. The wind was oppressive and almost painful as it cluiced around his body. The van was picking up speed, and the driving grew to be more erratic. The stabber was trying to throw him off. Bucking like a mare trying to unseat its rider. But it would take a lot more than that to loosen Izuku’s spider grip. He leaned over the driver’s window and tapped on the glass.

The stabber, to Izuku’s complete surprise, rolled it down. 

He could see the criminal’s face clearly for the first time. He wasn’t wearing a hood. Seemingly caught off-guard by the police raid, he was only in a simple black shirt and jeans, and he would’ve looked like any other civilian if it weren’t for the bandages that wound around his head, two small holes making way for his eyes. 

“Hello.” Izuku glowered. “I don’t think we’ve properly met.” 

The man grinned. “ Spiderman .”

A horrible feeling stirred in his stomach at the wicked sharpness of his smile. Izuku planted his hands on the car window’s frame, pushing himself closer into the man’s face.

“Stop the car.”

The man scoffed, keeping his eyes resolutely on the road. “You think I’ll just do what you tell me?”

Izuku reached into the window and grabbed a handful of his collar. The car swerved momentarily as the man was caught off-guard, before it righted itself. “Stop the car or I’ll make you.” he seethed.

The stabber cackled, somehow amused by his anger. “I thought you were supposed to be more friendly .”

Izuku scowled. “Not to murderers.”

The man smirked. “I guess you’ll have to make me.”

That was all the prompting that Izuku needed. He got back up on the roof, sliding across it to reach the other side of the van. He leaned over the front of the vehicle, at the wide windshield that spanned across. Izuku reeled back his fist, drawing it past his head, before he drove it through the glass with a deafening crack . 

White lanced through the window in webs, the brittle material splintering and falling through. The car lurched as the man cried, trying to steady his steering. When Izuku drew back his fist, he could feel the grating burn of shrapnels lining his knuckles. Still, he punched through the existing hole, hacking at it until it was big enough for him to slip through. Glass fell all around him as he ducked into the passenger seat. When he turned to the man, his face was covered in a dusting of white, scraped up in one place or another.

“Pull over.” Izuku scowled as he leaned over the gears between them.

“And what? Let myself get caught?”

“I’m not asking .” Izuku reiterated.  “ Pull over. ”

They were reaching the end of the highway, now, the road threatening to dip down to ground level, branching off to god knows where. Izuku had to stop him before they descended. But how? He couldn’t just reach over and take control, even if he wanted to. There were too many other civilian vehicles around them, and the risk of collateral damage was too high. One wrong swerve would be all it took for someone to lose a life, for Izuku to be blamed for another death.

Just as Izuku was considering his options, a familiar cold feeling rose up his spine, tingling and foreboding, peaking at his tightened shoulders. He turned abruptly to the villain, whose hands on the wheel were starting to tremble. 

The feeling was coming from him .

“You’re not gonna let me go, no matter what I do, aren’t you?” The man scowled. Izuku didn’t know what to say, because it was the truth. The man heaved a breath. “I would rather die than go behind bars.”

Before Izuku could register his words, the man was wrenching his wheel to the left, towards the unseen plunge several storeys high, only separated from them by a steel barricade.

Izuku scrambled for the wheel. “Wait—”

But it was too late. With a bang that jolted his entire body, they crashed through the barricades. For a moment, suspended in time, Izuku thought that the van wasn’t going to fall through. That the speed and momentum simply wasn’t enough to break the steel. But it did, and for a brief moment they were sailing through the air. Izuku could briefly see the water beneath them. This highway was suspended over a river. Izuku forgot about that. There was nothing he could do as the lapping waters came closer and closer. He barely had time to take a deep inhale of breath before they were plunged into darkness.

The water came flooding in instantly from the broken windscreen. There was no time for scrambling, no time to register the drop. Izuku was suspended, the momentum of the fall sending his body hurtling out of the broken window. For a moment he couldn’t orient himself. Everything was dark and cold, and his body hurt all over, the worst of it he knew was only staved off by adrenaline. It took a moment for him to see the haunting shadow of the sinking car a few feet below him. Past the haze of murky water, he could see the outline of a body still strapped into the driver’s seat. Still struggling against the languid drag of liquid.

Izuku stiffened.

A terrible part of him wanted to let the man drown. Wanted to turn away and swim up towards the light, to pretend that he could not find the car, that it had sunk far past his reach. But he knew that it was what the man wanted. Death. An easy escape. Izuku’s limbs moved towards the car before he could even register it.

He wanted this man alive.

Izuku swam past the shrapnel of torn metal and broken glass, wading into what was left of the windshield, coming face to face with the man. With his eyes bandaged, Izuku couldn’t even see if he was looking at him, see if he was even still conscious . Izuku reached for a wedge of glass in the water, using it to tear at the seatbelt still holding the man in place. He didn’t have much time now before they would both start to lose too much oxygen. His lung capacity, he found, was much higher than before the spider bite, but he could still drown . With a struggling heave, he yanked at the man’s arms and wrapped them over his shoulders. He felt the man’s fingers twitch slightly, as if not knowing whether he wanted to hold on and let himself be saved, or struggle more in an attempt to drown them both. The decision seemed to be made when the man’s fingers slackened, and Izuku propelled them both to the surface, his throat constricting with every prolonged second.

When they broke through the water, Izuku took in a huge gulp of air, his gasps wet and breathy as he looked around. His mask was making it hard to inhale. It felt like he was being waterboarded. With a frantic hand he tugged the fabric up to his nose, letting himself catch his breaths in croaked, broken gasps. The man on his back did the same, painfully coughing up water. Izuku quickly found somewhere to land. There was a small bank beneath one of the steel pillars that held up the highway. He willed his limbs to move, dragging the man with him.

Izuku collapsed on the sandy dirt, lying on his back as he coughed up water from his lungs, his chest expanding and contracting with deep, struggling breaths. The man was worse for wear a few feet from him. He couldn’t even seem to lift his head. 

Izuku struggled to his feet, his foot slipping as it slid against the dirt. But he got back up, tugging his mask over his face as he marched over to the man lying prone.

“Get up.” Izuku seethed. When the man made no move to rise, he repeated. “Get up !”

Still, nothing. He crouched next to him and dug his fingers into his collar, yanking until the man’s head lifted from the dirt. The bandages around his eyes were slowly coming undone, and with every furious tremble that sent his head shaking, the fabric started to unspool. Overhead, Izuku could feel the pointed stares and yells of police officers, their sirens directly above them. But Izuku didn’t care. They would find a way down here, soon enough. 

“Why?!” Izuku screamed into the man’s face, his fist shaking. “Why did you hurt all those people?! What for?!”

The man said nothing, still gasping for air. Izuku let go of his collar with an irritated huff, rising to his feet. “Why won’t you fight ?!”

The man battled a rising cough, spitting out water as he craned his head to the side. And then, with shaky arms, he lifted himself up.

“I was just like you—” The man said, his voice hoarse, “I was just like you, once.”

Izuku scoffed. “You’re nothing like me.”

“I wanted to save people, too.” The man raised his head, and in that one movement the bandages fell from his face, revealing a deep set of red eyes. “The world is darker than you think, Spiderman.”

“What—” Izuku reeled back. “What do you mean?”

“Young vigilantes like you…” The man raised himself on his feet, now. A steadying hand still propped on his knee as he was bent over. “Nowadays, all they want is fame. Power . There are no real heroes .” Then, he straightened to his full height, finally meeting Izuku’s eyes for the first time. The scarlet gaze that met his sent a chill down his spine. “But you’re one of the good ones, aren’t you?”

Izuku stilled for a moment, struck with an odd feeling, before he scowled. “You think you scare me by—”

“Did you ever look into what those people were like?” The man hissed. “The ones you call my ‘victims’ ?” He shook his head, as if disappointed in Izuku’s silence. “They are all terrible people. Terrible, terrible. That woman that you tried to save, the one who died—” the man threw up his arms, “she was the worst of them all!”

Izuku had heard whispers of that when the woman’s funeral processions were carried out. Some internet article had found out that she was the CEO of some unethical fashion company, outsourcing child labour for cheap prices. There was an uproar in social media outlets as people argued against whether or not her death was justified. But Izuku had no idea that this —a morbid pattern of chosen victims— was a part of this villain’s plan. He had thought that it was all some odd coincidence.

“Just because they did something wrong, doesn’t mean they deserve to die!” Izuku yelled, his fists balling up on his sides. “You can’t just enact your own form of justice on people!”

The sound of stirring people seemed closer now. They must’ve found a path to scale down the side of the highway. 

“Oh, can’t I?” The man cocked his head.  “Then tell me, how is what you’re doing any different?” He stifled a laugh. “What jurisdiction are you acting under? Don’t fool yourself. You’re a vigilante, boy. Not a hero . Catching criminals, defeating villains…” He jerked his head. “That’s what those people are. That’s what that woman was . So what makes us so different from each other?”

Izuku was struck. His throat felt dry as he tried to dredge up a response. He knew the man was wrong. He was nothing like him. Izuku would never hurt people just because he thought it would eradicate the world of danger, like he was some higher power exacting his own form of punishment, or revenge. But still, he couldn’t shake that one, lightning-quick thought he had as he watched the man drown. That rancid idea of letting him die.

The police climbed down the highway now, loud and scrambling as they tackled the man to the ground, fixing cuffs around his wrists. Izuku could only watch numbly as the man started to be carried away. He found his voice just before they started to cart him off.

“Why—” He stammered. Everyone was looking at him now as he stepped towards the man. “Why didn’t you just wait until we were off the highway? Why did you drive us into the water?” Izuku asked quietly. “You could’ve tried to get away. Why did you…”

The man laughed in his cuffs, an officer flanking him on either side.

“Too many civilians,” he shrugged, simply, as if this was something Izuku should have known. “I have no interest in harming innocent people.”

Izuku stared after him. As the officers started to carry him away again, the man didn’t stop talking. 

“This world is much darker than you think, Spiderman. Darker than I think you can handle.” The man called out. “I’ve met them myself. It seemed as though we had… differing ideologies.”

With a persistent wrench, the man freed himself enough to turn back at Izuku, his eyes red and gleaming.

“Be careful.” He said, conspiratorially. “Someone is out to get you.”

Izuku got back to his apartment in record speed. All the while, he pushed that man’s words far into the back of his head. He didn’t have time to dissect them now. Stil, no matter how hard he tried, those last few words rang throughout his head, each echo more and more foreboding than the last. Not even the cold wind that whipped around his wet suit could distract him from the low grate of his voice.

Someone is out to get you.

Izuku pried open his window and slipped inside. Ochako immediately darted up from her perch on his bed.

“Izuku?!” Her face was folded in worry, eyeing the gleam of wetness that hadn’t dried from the surface of Izuku’s suit. “You’re—”

He cut her off, not wanting to answer any of her questions. “Is Kacchan here?”

“I think you got here just in time.” Ochako said. 

Izuku exhaled in relief, yanking his mask off of his head and throwing it on the floor. He grabbed a towel from his closet to dry off his hair. At least there were no more glass shards clinging onto him, thanks to that quick dip in the river. 

“Oh, here.” Izuku slipped his hand into his pocket and held out Ochako’s pink, now-waterlogged phone. It was still dripping as he handed it over. He grimaced. He really needed to add waterproof lining to his suit. “Sorry, Ochako. I—I’ll get you a new one.” He promised, even though he wasn’t sure how he would even save up enough money to do that.

Ochako looked down at her phone as she squeaked. “What happened?!”

Izuku shook his head. “I—”

“Oi, nerd!” An insistent bang came from the other side of the door. “Open up!”

Izuku and Ochako froze where they stood, both of their eyes immediately darting to the door. The voice behind that yell was unmistakable.

Immediately, Izuku darted forward to his bed, yanking his duvet off of his mattress as he draped it over his body. Ochako, understanding where this was going, quickly got up and scrambled towards the other edge of the room, where she wouldn’t be seen from the door. She stumbled over Izuku’s sewing machine on the ground and fell over. 

“Just a minute, Kacchan!” Izuku called out before he ran over to help her up.

“What the fuck is all that banging?”

Izuku reached up to tidy his hair, fastening the duvet over his body so Katsuki wouldn’t be able to see the suit, before he wrenched the door open just a sliver, only enough for him to pop his head out and smile sheepishly. “Hey, why don’t you wait in the living room? We’ll do our homework there.”

Katsuki cocked a brow at him before he glared. “Why can’t we just do it in your room?” He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the stairway. “Your mom’s down there.”

“I’m—uh—” Izuku stumbled, actually stumbled, when he could feel Ochako step on the trail of his duvet. He tried to disguise it as a hop. “I’m changing my clothes, Kacchan, I’ll just meet you downstairs!”

“Your mom’s down there, dipshit. It’s awkward.” Katsuki hissed.

Izuku rolled his eyes. “You’ve known her since you were four!”

Katsuki grabbed the door, trying to force it all the way open. Izuku yelped, pushing back with just enough force to keep it where it was. At this point he was afraid of decapitating himself. “Just let me in! I’ll fucking turn around while you get changed or something!”

“No!”

Izuku pulled his head back and slammed the door shut, nearly taking off the tips of Katsuki’s fingers along with it. He could hear the blond hiss on the other side. In a frantic move, Izuku locked the door before Katsuki could try to open it again. Which he did, almost immediately, the doorknob rattling like an extension of his anger.

“Oi!” Katsuki snarled. “Deku, what the fuck?”

Izuku whined quietly as he turned to Ochako, who was standing wide-eyed by his dresser like she had just seen a ghost. “Shit, ‘Chako, what do I do?” He whispered.

“ Change .” She hissed back at him, throwing a pile of clothes in his direction.

“Then help me get out of this!” Izuku silently yelled, baring his back to her and gesturing at the zipper.

Katsuki’s gruff voice sounded again. “Why the fuck are you acting so weird?”

“I’m not weird!” Izuku called out as Ochako scrambled out of his bed, struggling to yank the zip. It got stuck sometimes, or buried beneath the fabric. Izuku was not a seamstress, for god’s sake . “Just changing!”

“Why the fuck haven’t I been allowed in your room?” Katsuki’s attempt in breaking his doorknob became more insistent.

“Because!” Izuku said distractedly as the zipper finally slid down his back. He peeled back the latex, pushing Ochako away as she tried to practically claw at it. “I—It’s messy! I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to clean it!”

“It’s been messy for half a fucking year now?” Izuku could practically hear Katsuki roll his eyes. “Auntie wouldn’t let you live in a pigsty.”

Izuku rolled his, too. “It’s not a pigsty, Kacchan.”

Katsuki rattled his door. “Then let me the fuck in.”

“No!” Izuku cried. Which was for both Katsuki and Ochako, the latter of whom was about to chuck his suit into the laundry basket. He gestured to the gap under his bed insistently, and she mouthed an ‘o’ right back at him.

“You’re hiding some weird shit in there, aren’t you?” Katsuki jeered. “Let me see!”

“Kacchan, I told you no!” Izuku yelled exasperatedly when the door started to shake so hard that he was afraid it might fall off its hinges. He tugged on a pair of shorts when it was handed to him. “I—I’m naked!”

Katsuki thumped the door. “Fuckin’ please. You’re the least modest person I fuckin’ know. Around me, anyway.” 

Izuku flushed. “Kacchan!”

“What is it, Deku?” Katsuki’s voice sounded much closer now, as if he was yelling directly into the gap between the door and its frame. “You buildin’ a shrine? Hidin’ an All Might porn stash?”

“That’s not a thing!” Izuku hissed. Ochako pushed a shirt into his hands. He tugged it on in so much of a hurry that the collar caught around his head. “Why do you want to go in so badly?!”

Ochako tried to help him. She attempted to reach over his arms, which were already in the air, but she simply wasn’t tall enough. In a last ditch attempt, she climbed up on the bed and tried to pry it off from there, but at the same time Izuku had loosed the fabric, and when her hands came out to tug it up, he went and tugged it down , which only caused her to lose both her grasp and her footing, tumbling onto the floor.

“Oops!” She whispered sheepishly as Izuku’s mouth parted into a silent cry of concern, hauling her up. “Sorry!”

Katsuki’s banging stopped.

“Is that a girl ?”

There was something off with Katsuki’s tone. Something low and almost— what was that? Disappointed ? The knocks didn’t come again. The hinges stayed in its place. He and Ochako turned to each other at the same time, twin grimaces on each of their faces.

“No.” Izuku said, trying to keep his voice calm.

When he tried to step towards the door, already mid-way through turning its key to unlock it, Ochako darted forward.

“‘Zuku!” She hissed, pointing to something green on the floor, right in the line of sight from the door. Her voice was quieter as she whispered, “The mask!”

“Oh shit.” Izuku cursed, quickly kicking the piece of fabric underneath his bed.

At this, Katsuki’s voice sounded even more distant. But Izuku wasn’t sure if it was because he grew quiet, or because he was already walking away from the door.

“It's round face, isn’t it?” Came his response. It almost sounded defeated.

A brief swill of silence. Both he and Ochako were frozen in place, unsure of what that tone meant. Unsure of whether to just come out and pretend nothing was weird.

“Whatever.” Katsuki scoffed, his voice already cold. “Forget homework. I’m fucking leaving.”

Izuku cursed himself internally.

“Kacchan!” He immediately darted towards the door, wrenching it open.  “Kacchan, wait!”

But Katsuki was already halfway down the stairs, and at the sound of Izuku’s footsteps, his pace only quickened, not even glancing back once. He knew from the tight lines of the blond’s shoulders that he had really fucked it up this time.

“Kacchan!”

Katsuki was quick. He was already across the threshold of Izuku’s apartment, ignoring his mom’s greeting that quickly petered off when she sensed the tension, and yanking the front door open, opting for the stairs that led down instead of the elevators. But Izuku was quicker. He caught Katsuki by the shoulder before he made it down the first flight, pulling in an attempt to make him stop.

“Kacchan—”

“Fuck off .” Katsuki swung around abruptly and smacked away his hand. Izuku wasn’t prepared for the intensity of the scowl he received when their gazes finally met. All red hot and genuinely furious. “You’re obviously fuckin’ busy —”

“Wait!” Izuku held up his hands. “I’m sorry. It’s a misunderstanding! She was just here because— because she forgot something! She left her—”

“Fucking save it .” Katsuki only got angrier at every word Izuku spoke, if that was even possible. He scoffed. “If you’re gonna fucking lie at least do a better job at it.”

“It’s not like that.” Izuku’s voice was quiet. Too quiet to stand a chance.

Katsuki gave him a once over, something dark that Izuku can’t name flickering across his face. It didn’t look like anger. For a moment, that emotion was entirely displaced by something else. But it was there and gone in an instant, the sneer coming back almost immediately.

“Fuck you.”

Katsuki started down the stairs again, with no real intent on outrunning Izuku this time, convinced that he would just leave it there. But of course that wasn’t happening. Izuku followed him down the steps, intent on hashing this out. Technically, Izuku knew that he hadn’t done anything wrong. Hanging out with another friend wasn’t a crime . Hypothetically, dating Ochako wasn’t a crime either. But his heart still felt heavy with a guilt for something he didn’t know. Something he can’t quite name , but was so painfully there all the same.

He didn’t want to think about it. It was Katsuki who had stormed into his apartment, after all. Katsuki who tried to barge into his room. Katsuki who got heated over something that didn’t matter . Why did Izuku have to explain himself all the time? Katsuki practically knew everything else about him, was it so bad to not tell him things once in a while? Izuku shook his head. What was even there to tell ? Ochako had been in his room. So what ? It wasn’t a big deal!

That guilt came again. Stronger, this time. 

So what?  

It seemed like a big deal to Katsuki.

“Kacchan.” Izuku sighed. “Are you seriously getting this angry because I won’t show you my room?”

Katsuki made an exasperated sound, stopping abruptly mid-step, twisting around as he threw his hands in the air. “It’s not about the fuckin’ room , you dipshit!”

Izuku found himself growing irrationally annoyed. “Then what ?”

“I don’t like you fuckin’ hiding things from me!”

“I’m not!”

Katsuki ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “ Fuck , Deku.”

“That’s not fair.” Izuku admonished, his brows knitting together. “You keep secrets from me all the time!”

Katsuki scoffed. “Like fuckin’ what ?!”

“Like that time you failed an English test because your parents were fighting?” Izuku shot back, entirely too prepared. He saw a flash of surprise lance through Katsuki’s features, something mixed with hurt, but he decided to push on before he could think it through. “Or when you sprained your ankle from jujutsu practice? When you lied about not having a fever and then almost passing out in gym—”

Katsuki shoved him back, lightly, not enough to knock him off his feet but still making him stumble. Just as Izuku regained his footing, the blond jabbed a finger into his chest, pushing his seething face forward.

“I didn’t tell you about my parents because that shit was personal, and I was going to fucking tell you the day after you found out.” Katsuki hissed. “I didn’t tell you about the goddamn ankle or the fever because I knew you were gonna flip your shit.” He closed his eyes momentarily, as if bracing himself. “But a fucking girlfriend?” When Katsuki opened them again, his gaze felt different. Something in Izuku’s chest seized with what he saw there. “I would’ve—” the blond reeled back, shaking his head. He waved a dismissive hand. “Forget it.”

A beat of silence. Izuku parted his lips, but no words seemed to want to come out. Katsuki leaned back heavily on the stairway’s railings, looking down at his feet, his chest rising and falling quickly with shallow breaths as if he was trying to calm himself down. Neither of them made a move to walk away. 

“Ochako isn't my girlfriend.” Izuku finally said, after a moment. After it seemed like Katsuki was waiting for a response.

Katsuki wrenched his gaze back up. “Then what the fuck was she doing in your room when you’re naked ?” At the look of indignant surprise on Izuku’s face, the blond cocked his head challengingly, his glare sharp enough to hurt. “Or are you gonna tell me you lied about that, too?”

Izuku struggled to find a believable response. A lie on top of a lie. But he didn’t have to. His hesitancy only spurred Katsuki on further. The blond took one step up the stairs, so that their eyes were almost level with each other’s. Izuku couldn’t bring himself to look away from Katsuki’s accusing glare, even with how much it hurt.

“If round face was there just because she was coming over,” Katsuki started out slowly, as if talking to a child, “then why the fuck would you lie about it?”

“And what if she was my girlfriend?” Izuku shot back, leaning in. “Why do you care so much?”

Katsuki reeled. The heat behind his eyes changed. That unidentifiable look again, there and gone. The expression that settled on his face instead was one of disappointment. Almost of hurt.

“Deku.” His voice was slow, almost imperceptible. “What the fuck do you want me to say to that?”

Izuku wanted to take back his words immediately.

“Kacchan.” He said quietly, wringing his hands. It took all of his self-control not to reach out to Katsuki now. The blond actually looked up at the frail tone of his voice. “I—I’m sorry.” He shook his head against the rise of tears. “I can’t tell you right now, but you have to trust me. It isn’t like that. I would tell you if I started dating someone. Of course I would.” Izuku forced himself to meet Katsuki’s gaze. Because he had to know. He had to see that he meant it. “You’re my best friend.”

Katsuki sighed. A sound of defeat. With that huff of breath, it seemed that all the anger had left him. Just like that. His shoulders slumped, the divot between his brows changing from one of annoyance to worry.

“Then why ?” Katsuki asked. “Why can’t you tell me whatever this fucking thing is?” He didn’t break their gaze the entire time he spoke, only seemed to look deeper as if he could see something in Izuku’s eyes that the freckled boy didn’t even know himself. “It’s not just about your room, is it?” He said, shaking his head slowly. “It’s not about her either.”

Izuku wished Katsuki couldn’t read him so easily.

“I—” he stammered, “I can’t tell you.”

Katsuki looked resolutely away, frowning deeply. For a moment, Izuku thought that he was going to storm away again, but instead the blond turned back around and reached forward, brushing a hesitant touch against Izuku’s knuckles. He hissed at the unexpected jolt of pain that ran up his hand. There was a crackling of scars there, near the bones of his joints. From when he punched though the windshield not even an hour before.

Katsuki scoffed, but his voice was still quiet. “Is it the reason why you keep getting those fucking scars?”

Sometimes Izuku forgot how scarily intuitive Katsuki was. 

Izuku tried to say something, but every word that threatened to spill past his tongue seemed wrong. Katsuki only looked at him as he struggled.

“You can’t even let me have one answer?”

Izuku settled on a meek nod.

“Yes,” he said, then, just to accompany the weak action. “Yes, it is.”

Katsuki pressed his lips to a thin line. “Are you in danger?”

Izuku shook his head. It wasn’t any danger that he couldn’t handle , at least. “No.”

Katsuki looked away, seemingly satisfied with this response even though Izuku could tell that he didn’t entirely believe it. There was a small lapse of silence between them, The air felt stifling in the stairway now. Izuku wished he could just reach out to him, take his hands in his and tell him everything. But he couldn’t. Not now, at least. He couldn’t brace himself for the anger and disappointment. Because that was all Izuku deserved. And anyway it was horrible timing. Izuku might be under some kind of targeted danger, if the bandaged man’s words were of any worth. And he was not going to drag Katsuki into it.

The blond’s voice was so timid and low that Izuku barely heard him. “Are you happy?”

“What?”

“This fucking thing,” he grumbled. “Does it make you happy?”

Izuku was at a loss for words for a moment, blinking up at the blond. The silence that lapsed made Katsuki raise his head, and their gazes met again. A chill ran up Izuku’s spine. There was clarity in that look. Knowing. Something calm and accepting. For one paralyzing moment, Izuku was struck with the possibility that Katsuki might know more than he let on.

But the words spilled from his lips anyway.

“Yes.” Izuku said. “It does.”

Katsuki nodded, not angrily but not kindly either. With an action so punctuated with finality, he turned back around, heading down the stairs again. Izuku made no move to follow him. It felt like that one look had frozen all his muscles in place.

“Tell your mom the old hag said hi.” Katsuki said from a few paces below him.

Izuku finally willed himself to move again. “You’re not coming back in?”

Katsuki looked back at him. He didn’t scowl, and he didn’t give him one of those odd half-smiles. His expression was entirely placid as he said, “Don’t push it.” 

Which was all the more frightening.

Izuku could only listen as Katsuki’s footsteps began to fade. He ran a hand through his hair as he dropped to his haunches on one of the steps.

He was so screwed .

Chapter Text

When Izuku got up for school the next morning, he made sure to set his alarm an hour earlier than usual. 

His mom wasn’t even awake yet as he crept across the kitchen already dressed in his uniform, the usual telltale sign of a pot of tea steeping on the counter unseen. Izuku texted her to say that he was leaving early, just so she wouldn’t worry, and twisted the doorknob gently closed as he slipped out into the morning air. It was so early that the sun had only begun to rise, swathes of warm oranges leaking into the sky like spilled ink. But Izuku still had to hurry if he was going to make it to Katsuki’s favorite coffee shop before coming back to their neighborhood in time to walk to school together. 

Initially, Izuku had spent all of yesterday night tossing and turning, wondering if the hasty apology he had tearfully said to Katsuki on the stairway was enough to ease him, wondering if the blond was going to ice him out, if they were still friends . Don’t push it , he had said with a completely catatonic face, even though the ice cold echo of his voice was drenched in resignation. Izuku’s gut told him that Katsuki was going to try to avoid him, like he always did whenever they got into one of these fights. He would stay away for the better part of a week or so, before he would succumb to Izuku’s relentlessness and they would be attached at the hip once again. But it had been so long since their last fight, and they had been so young. Izuku had no way of telling how the blond was going to react this time.

So he decided that he had no choice but to start being relentless before Katsuki had the chance to be cold.

The journey to the coffee shop took thirty minutes to and from in total. It was one of those artisan breweries whose small size told no story of its success. People would queue all day trying to get a cup. Izuku didn’t know enough about coffee to harp about its merits, but he recalled Katsuki telling him that they had authentic beans with a real roast and dripped coffee instead of brews. Or something like that. Izuku wasn’t really familiar with the technical terms.

There wasn’t a line this early in the morning. Izuku made it to the coffee shop and back before the time Katsuki would usually leave his house, a hot cup of black drip coffee in hand along with two slices of banana bread that the shop had been selling. The lady on the counter insisted that the coffee couldn’t be enjoyed without it, and that Izuku was lucky he even had the chance to buy one before it sold out. Izuku ended up relenting since it had smelled so tantalizing, and his stomach was still empty from the lack of breakfast. 

He spent the remaining minutes waiting outside Katsuki’s house like an insistent stray cat, watching the door for any sign of movement. The sun was high in the sky now, and Katsuki’s parents have no doubt driven to work. Usually, the blond would be the one waiting outside of Izuku’s apartment complex, since Izuku always took the longest time to get ready. But today he wasn’t going to give Katsuki a chance to avoid him. From the way they left things the previous day, it didn’t look like Katsuki was going to grace him with a joint walk to school. So Izuku might as well beat him to it.

The door creaked open five minutes later, just when Izuku was getting worried that the too-expensive coffee might be growing too cold, seriously considering running back to his apartment to heat it back up. Katsuki had his orange headphones jammed over his ears, scowl tight on his face as he walked down his porch, slamming the door behind him. His eyes landed on Izuku almost immediately, and for a moment he felt a bit stupid standing there. A bit desperate . But Izuku steeled himself as Katsuki sauntered over, yanking his headphones down around his neck as he eyed the cup and brown paper bag held out to him.

At least he didn’t just walk past me , Izuku tried to comfort himself, attempting his best to act casual. As if he had just chosen to wake up an hour early to get coffee from an obscure shop for fun.

Katsuki made no move to grab the offered cup, only darted his eyes from the drink to Izuku’s pleading face, as if daring him to say something. But Izuku couldn’t . His tongue was tied in the back of his throat, and he was afraid that if he unspooled it, all the wrong words would come tumbling out, and he would fail his mission of winning Katsuki back before it even started .

After a moment, the blond sighed, rolling his eyes. “Is this your stupid way of saying sorry?”

Izuku blinked up at him. “Ye—es?” He drew out, warily.

“Whatever.” Katsuki mumbled, walking past him. “I’m already over it.”

Izuku stared at his retreating back, not knowing whether he was welcome to follow alongside him or not, before he saw the blond’s pace slow in the same manner he always did when Izuku was lagging behind. Izuku darted forward, quickening his steps so their footfalls matched.

“Really?” Izuku blurted, not able to contain himself this time. “Are you sure? Because it’s totally understandable if you’re not. I wouldn’t be—”

Katsuki stopped abruptly in his tracks, turning to face him properly. His expression was solid. Reassuring with a sort of confidence that Izuku knew was supposed to make him feel better, but only made Katsuki look severe. “Hey,” the blond leveled him a look, “Deku, it’s fine . We’re good.”

Good wasn’t enough.

Izuku shrank back. “Kacchan…”

Katsuki ran an aggravated hand through his hair, looking away. “Look. I don’t really want to talk about it, and I know you don’t either.” He grumbled. “So why don’t we spare each other the fuckin’ trouble and just drop it?”

The blond continued his pace abruptly and Izuku was forced to follow. There was an unbearable silence as they came up the head of their street, the road branching off to the direction of their school. 

“It doesn’t sound like you’re over it.” Izuku said meekly as they waited for a car to pass. 

“Maybe I’m not.” Katsuki admitted softly. He huffed, as if he was angry at himself for feeling that way. “Just give it some time.”

Izuku was suddenly struck with guilt. What was he doing ? He was in no position trying to force Katsuki into forgiving him. He had every right to be angry, after all. Izuku would be the same way if he thought that Katsuki was hiding an important part of his life from him. A cup of coffee wasn’t going to fix anything.

Izuku ducked his head, slowing his pace.

“I—” he stammered out tearfully, “I’m sorry.”

Katsuki sighed and moderated his own footsteps until they fell back in line with each other. 

“I don’t want to be mad at you, you know.” The blond nudged his elbow into Izuku’s.

Izuku’s lips twitched into a reflexive, almost-smile. Katsuki was trying to cheer him up. And he didn’t deserve any of it. “I know.”

“So just leave it fuckin’ be .” 

Izuku nodded jerkily, taking a deep breath and fortifying himself. He tried to distract himself by concentrating on the chirping birds, the early, shifting sounds of a city stirring from sleep. But all he could feel was Katsuki’s pressing presence to his right. How it felt like everything was right but wrong at the same time.

The damn coffee was starting to burn a hole into his palm.

Izuku looked down at the cup and the bag of bread, offering it out one last time. “I can throw it away if you don’t want it.”

Katsuki scowled and immediately snatched them out of his hands. “Gimme that .”

Izuku allowed himself to smile as he watched the blond all but down it. Maybe he hadn’t seen the logo on the packaging, but Katsuki’s eyes lit up with surprise at the first sip, as if shocked by the taste. He drew the cup back from his face and turned it around until he saw the shop’s name pressed into the front in simple white lettering.

Katsuki hummed in approval before taking another heavy sip. “Maybe I should make you feel guilty more often.”

It was Izuku’s turn to nudge his side, laughing lightly. “Kacchan!”

They didn’t speak much the rest of the way to school, but Katsuki tore up the banana bread and wordlessly handed him chunks of it as they walked, and Izuku knew that somehow, in the most arbitrary ways, he had been a little bit forgiven.

The day passed by uneventfully, and soon it was time for lunch. Their usual group of friends squeezed into a lunch table like they always did, packed shoulder to shoulder with barely any room to move their arms. Kaminari and Kirishima sat to his right with an empty seat for Katsuki reserved across from him. The two were chattering incessantly about one thing or another —probably about Spiderman— while Izuku was left to stare nervously at the Katsuki-shaped void in front of his cafeteria lunch. Had he spoken too soon when he thought that he had smoothed things over between them? Was Katsuki avoiding him anyway? They didn’t share any morning classes together, so Izuku didn’t have a chance to talk to him after the walk to school.

“—dude, I was worried that he wasn’t crime fighting anymore after that stabber stuff, but I should’ve known he was too manly to do that!”

“Well, unlike you I never doubted him.” Kaminari crossed his arms over his chest smugly. “Did you see my tweets? I was literally getting hate for supporting him.”

Izuku suppressed a smile as he listened to the chatter. It was sort of comforting, knowing that his friends believed in him. That they saw through the ugly words the media spewed. Sometimes, he even entertained the thought of making a Spiderman appearance at school, pretending to merely be swinging past it, just to see how Kaminari and Kirishima would react. Izuku knew that they would never shut up about it. Katsuki would probably go insane.

That’s right, Katsuki . Just as Izuku was about to ask down the table if anyone knew about his whereabouts, he caught sight of the blond stalking across the cafeteria with a scowl, plopping into the seat in front of him.

“Hey, Kacchan.” Izuku said nervously.

Katsuki didn’t even look up, grumbling as he slammed the lunch tray down onto the table, a bowl of miso soup sloshing precariously. He hiked up his legs as he slid into the narrow open seat across from Izuku.

“Stupid Yamada kept yammering on.” Katsuki muttered. “Fuckin’ ten minutes off my lunch time.”

“Oh, Bakugou!” Kaminari leaned across the table, nearly toppling his own bowl of rice. “You met Spiderman, like, three times right?”

“ Met him? ’ ” Kirishima echoed. “Dude, he and Spiderman are literally like besties .”

“And never once was he grateful for it.” Mina shook her head from beside Izuku. 

“Shut up!” Katsuki growled, digging his chopsticks into his rice. “I never asked for his help.”

“Did you see that interview they did with Bakugou?” Mina continued anyway, turning to Izuku, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth like a disappointed mother. “It was horrible.”

Izuku recalled it vaguely. It had happened about a week after the Shibuya incident, around the same time the stabbing would have taken place. Izuku was pretty detached from his friends then, sinking into a depressive, solitary episode. By the time he resurfaced, the talk of the interview had been old news. He recalled Ochako telling him that it had been really funny, though he hadn't watched the video himself.

“How did that even happen anyway?” Izuku asked. 

Kirishima took it upon himself to explain, clearing his throat like he was about to make an important declaration. “Denki saw somebody tweet the footage of Bakugou swinging with Spiderman at Shibuya. He posted a reply with a group selfie of all of us—” 

“With everybody in uniform .” Iida added disapprovingly from the other end of the table.

“Yeah, dude! It was that photo we took after last year’s summer festival! You remember?” Kirishima said. Izuku knew which picture he was talking about. He had been in it, too. “Some reporter saw it and apparently jumped Bakugou on his way to school.”

Kaminari groaned. “I just wanted to show off, okay! My best friend is a celebrity! And who knows? Maybe Spiderman saw the tweet!”

Katsuki reached over and shoved his head backwards. “I’m not some kind of fucking vessel for you to nerd out on bugboy!”

Kaminari yelped and held both hands over his forehead, frowning. “Don’t call him bugboy !”

“Hey, Bakubro, what’d it feel like swinging with him?” Kirishima leaned forward, a hint of awe and jealousy sparkling his eyes. “Was it awesome? Was it terrifying ?”

Katsuki froze at the sudden interrogation, pausing the trajectory of his chopsticks mid-bite. When the hesitation only garnered more of their friends’ eyes on him, followed by a light flush on his cheeks, a mischievous ‘oooooh’ rose from the table.

“Did you talk to him?” Mina asked giddily.

Kirishima shuffled in his seat. “Yeah, Bakubro! Was he nice ?”

Kaminari waggled his brows. “Did he feel muscular —”

“You guys are such fuckin’ creeps!” Katsuki exploded as he jostled Kirishima’s shoulder, who had the unfortunate position of being the only one in arm’s reach. The redhead dramatically fell back like he was shot. The whole table laughed.

“Ugh, it’s so unfair.” Kaminari pouted. “The hater gets to meet Spiderman.”

“I wanna see him just once , y’know?” Kirishima chimed after recovering himself.  “Even if it’s from a distance.”

“Bro.” Kaminari leaned in eagerly. “The next time you see him, call us !”

Katsuki scowled. “Like hell I will.”

Izuku smiled silently down at his lunch, shaking his head lightly.

It was at times like these that he ached to tell them. Sometimes, the words would be on the tip of his tongue, and conversations would open up to a convenient point for him to slide in his secret identity. But then he remembered the danger. The days where he would spend bandaging himself up, hiding a limp, or buying more long-sleeved clothing because there never seemed to be enough. And he knew that being Spiderman was not as spectacular as it seemed.

So Izuku ducked his head and ate his lunch, and his friends laughed and laughed and laughed.

Two days later, Izuku found himself struggling to get into his uniform pants, toothbrush still hanging from his foaming mouth as he fastened a belt around his hips. It was half an hour before school started, and even though he lived only fifteen minutes away, it was too close of a call for Katsuki. Izuku shrugged on his blazer and tugged the tie around his collar before spitting into the sink. He glanced at the mirror. His hair was a mess, more so than usual. But there was hardly any time to try and tame his curls if he didn’t want an earful from Katsuki about the importance of punctuality all the way to school.

“Izuku!” His mother was calling for him from the kitchen. 

Izuku stuck his head out of the bathroom door. “Coming!”

He ran his hands through his hair one last time before sprinting down the stairs. The smell of toast greeted him as he ran into the kitchen. Izuku ducked when his mom turned around with a hot pan of eggs, navigating towards the counter. He had to tap her on the shoulder to let her know he was there.

“You’re late!” His mom clucked disapprovingly, swatting him away when he obstructed her path to the kettle.

“I know, I know.” Izuku groaned.  “I overslept.”

His mom fished out two pieces of toast, buttering them up on her plate. “I’m surprised Katsuki hasn’t buzzed up yet asking for you.”

Izuku snorted. Katsuki knew better not to. Unlike the blond’s household, Izuku’s mom was still very much at home this time in the morning, and would usually leave for work an hour after Izuku left for school. The first time Katsuki buzzed up was only a few weeks ago when Izuku missed his alarm. He expected Izuku on the other line but instead got a hold of his mom, who kept on insisting that Katsuki come up to wait and have breakfast. When Katsuki refused, she spent ten minutes on the intercom talking his ear off while Izuku got ready, the blond standing outside in agonized, awkward silence. Izuku knew that Katsuki hated having to speak to adults —his use of language being far too vulgar— but also too polite to dig himself out of situations like these. It was the kind of self-inflicted internal turmoil that Izuku found endearing.

Izuku laughed. “I think he learned his lesson the last time.”

“Well, you better not keep him waiting any longer.” His mom warned. “Next thing you know, he’s up here busting down the hinges to our door.”

Izuku hummed as he took a sip of water. “I wouldn’t put that past him.”

His mom stopped him when he made for the door, pulling him in for a tight hug and a kiss to the top of his head that he had to lean down for. Izuku pretended to squirm, but he secretly loved her easy affection.

She patted his cheek for good measure. “Have a good day at school, sweetheart.”

Izuku beamed. “Have a good day at work!”

He grabbed the piece of buttered toast she handed to him before he sprinted out the door and down the stairs, forgoing his apartment’s elevator, which was the slowest piece of machinery known to mankind. But when he emerged out the doors, half an apology already on the tip of his tongue, he found the street to be empty.

Izuku paused. He pulled out his phone to check for the time. Yup . He was late alright. And he hadn’t received any messages from Katsuki either, who would usually be on his case for being even two minutes past their agreed time. Was the blond running late, too? A slow smile spread across Izuku’s face as he shook off his surprise, making his way towards Katsuki’s house. Now he could be the one to tell the other off. 

Two minutes of walking took him to Katsuki’s street. A sizable beige house with a well-manicured front lawn, full of neatly-trimmed shrubs and bushels of white magnolias, which were Uncle Masaru’s pride and joy. The family car wasn’t in the driveway, which meant that Katsuki’s parents had already left for work. Izuku pulled out his phone to shoot a quick text.

[deku]

hey kacchan!

i’m waiting outside, sorry i’m late

And then, he waited.

The front door did not so much as rattle.

Frowning, Izuku pulled out his phone again. Five minutes had passed, and he had approximately ten minutes to spare before he would be arriving late. This was weird. Katsuki was never late, and if he was going to miss school, which he rarely did, he would have called Izuku to let him know. He texted Katsuki again, this time with an odd feeling in his gut.

[deku]

did you leave without me?

are you already at school?

It was a possibility. Katsuki did that sometimes when Izuku was running too late, his pristine attendance record too precious for Izuku’s recklessness to tarnish. But again, he would always text him to let him know. He tried calling him. Once, twice, three times. Still nothing. The call rang, so his phone wasn’t turned off, but it still petered off to voicemail. The divot between Izuku’s eyebrows began to grow with unease. Slowly, he came up to the Bakugous’ front door, rapping his knuckles loudly  against the dark oak. 

“Kacchan?” Izuku called out hesitantly. Katsuki’s room was on the first floor, but he didn’t know if the blond would be able to hear a knock behind closed doors.

Nothing. Izuku couldn’t even hear footsteps or shuffling, even with his acute spider senses.

“Kacchan!” Izuku called louder, knocking his fist more forcefully against the wood.

Still, nothing. With a huff, Izuku glanced at his phone. No texts, and only seven minutes left to spare. He had to leave now if he wanted to make it in time without getting a late slip.

Izuku made his way off of the lawn and down the street, tracing the familiar path to school. He wasn’t mad. Mostly concerned. It wasn’t like Katsuki to just ditch him without a word like this. And Izuku knew that Katsuki wasn’t upset with him, that much was established two days ago. Everything had gone back to relative normality. Izuku replayed the events of yesterday, trying to spot where something could have gone amiss, something he could have said or done to warrant a cold shoulder. His mind came up with nothing. They had just gone to school and gotten ice cream with their friends after. And then Katsuki had jujutsu practice, but Izuku couldn’t come because he had to catch up with homework. Normal. Boring, really.

Izuku’s mind reeled as he tried to come up with more excuses. Maybe Katsuki overslept his alarm? Maybe he had actually left to go to school but forgot to tell Izuku. Maybe he had meant to, but met one of their friends along the way and got distracted. Izuku was that way, sometimes. Forgetful, and easily distracted.

But Katsuki was not.

Izuku ran into homeroom just before his teacher, Aizawa-sensei, could start morning attendance. Not that he was in any hurry to do so. The dark-haired man might as well be dead to the world with his head buried into one of those airplane pillows, face-first on the desk like he was trying to smother himself. Izuku didn’t even have a chance to look around before he was accosted by Iida.

“Midoriya!” His spectacled friend frowned at him disapprovingly. “You’re almost late!”

“Sorry, Iida.” Izuku put a hand on his chest, still catching his breath from his sprint up the school stairs. “I was waiting for ages outside Kacchan’s house.”

Iida huffed, crossing his arms as he looked around expectantly. “Well, where is he?”

Izuku blinked. “He’s not here?”

Kirishima perked up from his lean against Mina’s desk a few paces away from them.

“Bakugou?” The redhead cocked his head. “He’s not here, dude. I thought you were both running late or something.”

Izuku frowned. “You’re sure he’s not here?”

Kirishima shook his head. “No, bro. Did you check if he was home?”

“I did.” Izuku furrowed his brows. “I knocked on the door and no one answered. I assumed he just left without me because I took too long.”

Kirishima hummed. “Well, maybe he missed his alarm or something?”

“It wouldn’t be like him…” Izuku muttered.

“Maybe he’s sick!” Mina exclaimed. “When I’m sick, I can’t even get up. Let alone hear my alarm.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Midoriya.” Iida patted his back, sensing his unease. “He will text you back as soon as he wakes up! And then you should tell him about the importance of attendance and informing teachers about your absence!”

Izuku warily agreed, not having any time to contest the conclusion before Aizawa-sensei awoke from his slumber at the sound of the bell, calling the class to attention groggily. Izuku slid into his seat and pulled out his phone under his desk, shooting Katsuki another text.

[deku]

you aren’t at school!

are you sick?

did you miss your alarm?

There was not much he could do now, only go about his day and wait. He was sure that Katsuki was fine. Izuku just tended to overthink little things like these, after all. If it was something actually serious, Katsuki would have told him about it. Maybe the jujutsu training from the previous day really did take a toll on him after all. Maybe the blond was too embarrassed to admit he was sick, especially after Izuku had advised him not to train for longer than three hours, which Katsuki still pushed against. Yeah, he was probably just sore and tired.

Before Izuku knew it, lunch time had rolled around and none of them received any word from Katsuki. Izuku didn’t have any classes with the blond that morning, but he still felt his absence in the hallways, the lack of explosive yelling and an occasional nudge in the shoulder as they passed each other by. He felt his absence now as Kirishima took the seat across from him, the whole table shifting down a slot. Ochako forgoed her usual seat next to Tsuyu and sat next to him, trying to ease Izuku’s nervousness about the whole situation. The rest of their friends were convinced that Katsuki was just down with a fever or something, too busy sleeping or moping to text them back. 

“He’s probably ignoring us on purpose because he’s too Bakugou to admit he’s sick.” Kaminari rolled his eyes, scrolling away on his phone.

Kirishima laughed. “What’d I tell him? I knew all those extracurriculars were gonna knock him down one day.”

“Bakugou does take on an awful lot of responsibilities.” Ochako hummed in thought.

“Don’t worry about it, Midoriya!” Kirishima grinned, when Izuku didn’t look any more convinced than this morning. “We’ll all visit him after school! He’ll hate it so much that he’ll never get sick or ghost us again!”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Izuku smiled warily, trying to ignore the creeping doubt making its way through his gut.

He pulled out his phone again as his friends made idle chatter, deciding to send Katsuki yet another slew of texts.

[deku]

if you’re actually sick, let me know if i can pick anything up for you after school :D

that spicy tofu stew place you like reopened 

if you’re feeling better, we can go there after school!

Izuku blew out a breath. There wasn’t a single sign that showed that Katsuki was checking his phone. The little status on the messaging app told him that Katsuki hadn’t been online since six in the morning, when the blond would usually wake up for school. All of Izuku’s texts were delivered, so it wasn’t like his phone was turned off. He tried not to think much about it as he slipped his phone back in his pocket.

And then, he felt it. 

The doubt that was tumbling around in his gut grew into something worse. A shiver shot up his spine, bright and shocking as lightning, enough for him to straighten his back with a jolt. Izuku blinked against the sensation. He knew it entirely too well. He would feel it before the whizz of a bullet, before catching the glint of a knife. He had felt it once, in the same striking clarity as this, just seconds before the stabber wrenched the wheel of his car and plunged them right into the river. It sent all his senses into overdrive, and for a moment he felt as though he was buzzing with it.

Izuku immediately darted his eyes around the cafeteria. There was no discernable danger in their vicinity. Just the same clusters of rowdy students and bored-looking teachers supervising the area. He frowned, looking down at his hands. It seemed like a false alarm. But then again, he had never had his senses lie to him before.

“Still nothing?” Ochako asked, when he caught Izuku’s pinched face, thinking it was the result of checking his phone and finding no reply.

He shook his head. “Ochako, I have a bad feeling.”

“‘Zuku, I’m sure it’s just—”

“Ochako, you don’t understand.” Izuku interjected, lowering his voice and leaning in, raising his brows pointedly. The tingling worsened. He tried to stave off a shiver. “I have a bad feeling .”

Ochako’s expression turned severe, her face paling in understanding. “You mean…?”

Just as Izuku was about to take another cursory look around the cafeteria, Kaminari squeaked from across the table. He was staring at his phone with wide eyes. To any other person, it looked like he had just encountered another Spiderman video, but Izuku could see the slightest tremble in his wrist as he swiped at something. The sound coming from the phone repeated. He made another swipe, and it repeated again.

“Holy shit .” The fork Kaminari was holding in his other hand clattered onto the table. All of their friends turned to look at him. Immediately, he cradled the screen up to his face. Kirishima shot him a look and tried to lean in to see. “Holy fucking shit guys.” Kaminari’s voice was small and trembling. Beside him, Kirishima’s eyes shot wide open. “Am I going crazy or is that Bakugou ?”

The tingling intensified, rising to Izuku’s shoulders.

“What?” He willed himself to speak.

Kaminari wordlessly turned the phone over. The entire table crowded around to look.

It was a news clip. An aerial, helicopter view of some construction site floated past the screen, the footage shaking and precarious. The steel structure that made up this half-finished building was bare and exposed, no more than rickety metal beams shooting up to the sky, thin platform slabs dividing every other floor. The shot was too far to really see what was going on, but the camera zoomed in anyway, taking a few seconds to focus on three figures surrounding one person. Izuku jolted with a searing flash of recognition at the sight of girlish uniform and blond buns, and then a black-suited man. Standing at the head was a dark haired man with a long, flowing coat. The person sitting in the center was still obscured from view by the stalks of their legs.

“ —villains spotted at an abandoned construction site. Its secluded location is making it difficult for police to send reinforcements. The two villains responsible for the Shibuya attack are present alongside someone we’ve never seen before. A dark-haired, scarred man who appears to be the leader. ”

The helicopter shifted, and the footage changed perspectives. The camera zoomed in and out, and this time, once the lens focused, they had a clear view of the person sitting in the middle. Spiky blond hair. Angry, red eyes. A piece of black cloth tied around the angry shape of his mouth. The too-familiar colors of the same uniform he was wearing now.

A collective gasp rose from the table.

“Officers believe this to be a hostage situation. We have eyes on a boy bound in chains up on the unfinished building’s top floor. It is still unclear what these villains’ motives are. ”

“Holy fuck .” Mina gasped, starting to hyperventilate. “Holy fuck !”

Iida balled his hands into fists. “Why isn’t anybody helping him?!”

Izuku blindly reached to his left, where he knew Ochako would be. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think . Couldn’t wrench his eyes away from the screen. Katsuki’s eyes were sharp and angry, but every time one of the villains moved, the hardness in his pupils would flit away for just a second, and he looked the most scared that Izuku had seen in his entire life .

“ Ochako .” Izuku breathed out.

He didn’t need to look at her to know she understood. Immediately, her hands flew to her own phone, typing furiously. “On it.”

Izuku swallowed thickly. “Ochako—”

“It’s an abandoned construction site. They were going to make a parking lot. I’m sending the location to you now.” She whispered urgently.

Izuku nodded. Facts . He could handle that. “How far?”

“Twenty minutes on foot.” She replied. “But Izuku—”

He stood abruptly from the lunch table, knocking over his chopsticks to the ground. His friends turned to look at him, concern clearly etched onto their features.

Izuku opened his mouth to say something— anything . It was clear from the looks on their faces that they were watching for his reaction, wary and worried. He was Katsuki’s best friend, after all. Attached at the hip ever since anyone could remember. But no words came to his lips. He was gaping at the screen, still. The small outline of Katsuki’s body as the camera zoomed out.

He had to go.

He had to leave .

“Izuku?”

Izuku couldn’t even identify whose voice it was. Only knew that at the next second, he was climbing out of his seat and running out of the cafeteria, the faint shouts of his friends far behind him. One winding hallway became two, and before he knew it he was twisting in his locker combination with shaking hands. It took a few tries. He could barely see the fingers in front of his face, much less the tiny numbers on his lock. He wrenched it open once it complied, crouching down to dig for a small black bag where he stored a spare suit. God knew when it last saw the light of day. It was probably an old version, too. Not fully latex and put together with janky stitching in some places. He had one stored at school for emergencies a few months ago, when he was first starting out. But never in his wildest imagination did he think this could happen.

Katsuki . Katsuki in direct danger . Katsuki held hostage .

He tried not to throw up from the concept of it.

Izuku dashed out the school’s front doors once he stuffed his book bag into his locker. He’ll change into his suit in a public toilet or something. Hell, he’d strip in the middle of the street for all he cared. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his homeroom teacher, Aizawa-sensei, talking to the head of their English department near the gates. They were both under the shade of a tree, overlooking the courtyard where some of the younger students spent their lunch time playing around. Aizawa-sensei whipped around immediately when he saw Izuku cross the threshold, making a direct beeline for the school gates.

“Midoriya, where do you think you’re going?” Aizawa tried to flag him down, his voice loud and stern. When Izuku merely ran past him, his tone turned slightly offended. “Midoriya?” He called. “Midoriya, stop!” 

Izuku yanked open the school gates with more force than needed, sending the thin metal fences rattling. He could hear both his teachers yelling his name now, but he couldn’t care less. Couldn’t even hear them if it weren’t for his spider senses, forcefully pulling him to reality. He fished his phone out of his pocket and opened Ochako’s latest message. The location. Izuku’s never been to that part of the city before, secluded as it was. But it looked easy enough to get to.

When he came across a deserted alley, he ducked inside and changed, making sure to take note of which alley this was as he opted to ditch the rest of his things there on the ruddy ground. He’d come back for it later. Or not. It didn’t matter . The backup suit felt different on his body. Too tight in some places where he’d grown more muscle, where the spider bite had made him grow a few inches taller. But the web shooters worked just fine, and with his phone in one hand he pulled himself into the sky, forcing his fraught brain to focus and get him to Katsuki.

Katsuki .

Izuku didn’t know how he got there in the end, only knew that he was close once he could hear the commotion of people drawing near. When he came up on the crowd waiting on the lot, silent and nothing like his usual persona, their excited chatter quickly turned into low, confused murmurs, parting around him as he came upon the building. Cameras shuttered everywhere. A reporter was announcing something and gesturing to him.

Izuku looked up at the construction site. He couldn’t even see the villains from here. The building was simply too tall. If you could even call it that. It was the bare bones of a metal structure, precarious and with barely enough surfaces to stand on. Izuku turned to the nearest officer.

“How long have the villains been here?” He asked.

“We don’t exactly know.” The officer said. “The first call came in around an hour ago, and only because the civilian noticed the two villains from the Shibuya attack from her office window. But she said they weren’t even doing anything. Just standing there.” He looked up, squinting past the glare of the sun. “They’re still doing nothing now.”

Izuku followed his gaze, and his vision filled with white. When his eyes adjusted, he could make out the small moving silhouettes of the villains, peering down at the crowd just as they were peering up. He could swear they were looking at him, now. And if the view was clearer they might have locked eyes. With a flurry, the figures began shifting.

They were waiting for me , Izuku realized with a shiver.

He started to scale the building before anyone could approach him, pacing his strides to the erratic beats of his own heart, fast-paced and suffocating. Web shot after web shot, heft after heft, he felt himself rise up with the columns of steel. The metal was searing underneath his touch, heated from the sun. He wondered if the temperature was true to its intensity, or if it was because the fabric hugging tight around his fingers was made of thinner material than he was used to.

It wasn't long until he could hear the beams creaking with movement. With one last jump, he landed crouched onto the top level, smooth concrete beneath him. When he looked up, the three villains were standing in a row expectantly. Izuku saw movement behind their legs, the struggle of tied limbs and muffled yelling. 

Katsuki . 

Izuku rose to his feet, expression stern under his mask. He hoped it showed through the set of his shoulders, the rigid line of his stance. The blonde girl beamed up at him, and the black suited man remained placid. But standing in the middle of the two was someone Izuku had never seen before. Black, spiked hair. Ice blue eyes. His expression was drawn to that of careful nonchalance. He would’ve looked just like any other villain that Izuku had to encounter if it weren’t for the deep purple scarring spanning across his body in odd places, his skin kept together by morbid exposed stitches. Under his eyes, like gruesome eyebags. The entire lower half of his face, starting just below his cheekbones and dipping past the column of his neck, plunging into the collar of his dark coat. On his hands were silver gauntlets, big and hulking like he had cut them off of a cyborg twice his size. 

Izuku kept his eyes fixed on that wicked metal glint.

“Spidey!” The blonde girl— Toga , he remembered, grinned. She didn’t have her explosive guns this time. In fact, none of them seemed to be armed with any weapons. “I told you we’d meet again soon!”

Izuku scowled. “Can’t say I’ve missed you guys already.”

The dark haired man stepped forward, dropping out of line. He looked Izuku up and down, his cold gaze entirely scrutinous, almost condescending. Izuku’s skin crawled under his judgment.

“Spiderman, a pleasure to finally meet you.” The dark haired man cocked his head. “I believe we have someone you’re waiting to meet.”

Izuku stiffened at the implication of those words, his blood running cold. Waiting to meet? He had thought that Katsuki had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but was this a targeted attack? Had they chosen to kidnap Katsuki? Izuku steeled himself, forcing his lungs to heave in a deep breath. Did these villains somehow find out that they knew each other? Did they find out his identity? No . It can’t be. Izuku didn’t leave anything up to chance. He spent a long time perfecting all his alibis, cutting any possibilities that his alter ego could be traced back to him, long before he even first put on the suit. For all he knew, this was a bluff. Izuku can’t lose his composure. He can’t let them know that they have gotten it right. Too right. 

“I don’t know who it is you’re holding hostage here,” Izuku started out firmly, “but I’m gonna need you to let them go.”

“ Hostage is a very strong word.” Toga giggled. “We’re just inviting him along to play!”

“And besides.” Twice crossed his arms across his chest. “We’ve seen you two together before.”

Izuku swallowed down all the questions and doubts rising in his throat. Bluff , he reminded himself. All bluff. He couldn’t fall for it. Not now. Not when Katsuki’s life was on the line.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Izuku said through gritted teeth.

“Really?” The dark haired man raised his eyebrows. “Your interaction in Shibuya proved interesting. A lot of people believe you two are connected.”

Izuku paused.

Shibuya? 

Connected ? 

It took a moment for Izuku to piece together the implication of his words, but once he did, he almost wanted to collapse on the ground with relief. Of course . The viral video of Spiderman swinging Katsuki to his tournament. The slew of horrific interviews with the blond that came after, with his furious hostility coming across as bad cover-up acting to most of the population who didn’t know the fuming nature of Bakugou Katsuki. The villains had just fallen for media propaganda . Izuku almost wanted to sputter out a laugh. Who knew they would be just as in touch with the tabloids as the rest of them? The situation seemed almost comical now as the tension seeped from Izuku’s bones, and he allowed himself to relax his stance.

“I’m pretty sure I ‘interacted’ with a lot of people that day, man.” He nodded to the two villains that flanked his sides. “No thanks to your friends here.” 

The dark haired man leveled him an unconvinced look. With a fluid step back, he hooked his foot around something behind him, flashing a cocky grin. “Well, maybe seeing him will jog your memory.”

With one swift kick, he pushed Katsuki forward, the blond falling to the ground face-first in a rattle of chains. The metal links wound around his torso and his conjoined wrists, strapped flat behind his back. Katsuki tried to scramble away, struggling to haul himself onto his knees, but the dark-haired man simply pulled at the excess chains trailing behind the blond, yanking it taut like he was taming a rabid, leashed dog. The villain planted a solid foot onto his back, forcing Katsuki to collapse back onto the ground. When the blond turned his face sideways, Izuku caught the furious, red-hot look in his eyes, and when their gazes met he almost forgot how to breathe with the sudden anger that consumed him.

Calm down , he told himself. He tried to focus on the look of brief relief that crossed Katsuki’s features, the way his shoulders slumped and his struggling stopped for only a second. Izuku was going to get him out of here. One way or another. If it was the last thing he did.

Izuku sighed, and feigned disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“You remember him now?” The dark haired man smirked. Under his boot, Katsuki let out something that sounded like protest, yelling what Izuku could only guess were muffled obscenities under his gag. The villain quirked his brow, digging his foot further into his back. “It looks like he has something to say.”

At the dark haired man’s nod, Toga crouched down and yanked the gag down from Katsuki’s mouth. The blond took a moment to take in a few gasps of air, resting his cheek against the ground. He struggled to lift his face off of the concrete as he glared up at Izuku.

“Quit following me around, bugboy!”

The dark haired man laughed, reaching down for the collar of Katsuki’s uniform and hauling him up by the scruff. “This one’s such a brat. Always trying to escape.” The blond choked when his collar caught against his neck, but still the villain didn’t relent. “Must you befriend such difficult people, Spiderman?”

Izuku took a step forward. “ Enough ,” he said, and he maintained his rigid stance until the dark haired man curled his lip and let Katsuki fall heavily to the ground with a groan. Izuku forced himself not to reach forward. Now that he knew these villains didn’t know about his identity, the lies came easier. “I don’t even know this guy’s name .”

The black-suited man, Twice, snorted. “Well, he’s the closest thing we have to a family member.”

“You cover your tracks well, Spiderman.” The leader said. “But you’re a hero, aren’t you? Even if it was just some random person we picked off of the street, you’d still come crawling here.”

Izuku ignored the clear condescension in the villain’s tone. Instead, he turned to Katsuki. “Are you okay?”

Katsuki remained still on the ground, and for a moment Izuku thought that he might have passed out, even though he knew that the short fall wouldn’t have knocked him out. It wasn’t until he saw the blond’s body curl in on himself, the quiet clinks of chains, that he realized he was ignoring him.

“He’s not the compliant type. We learned that the hard way.” The dark-haired man chuckled. He twisted the chain links in his hands as he tugged Katsuki closer to the ground near his feet. Katsuki didn’t fight against the pull. “Here, I’ll even be gracious. Why don’t you ask him to come to you? We don’t need him anymore now that you’re here.” The villain’s ice blue eyes challenged him. When Izuku didn’t say anything, he gave Katsuki’s side a light kick. “Go on. Ask.”

Izuku gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to play into this villain’s absurd games. It was just a way to further trample on Katsuki’s spirits, to belittle him in front of who they assumed was his friend. Izuku stayed silent and watched as Katsuki stirred, just a little, enough to lift his face from the unfinished concrete. 

“‘M not crawlin’ to anybody.” He spat.

And Izuku caught sight of the slight shine of tears in his eyes, just glossy enough that it could pass as something else under the beating light of the afternoon sun. Something sharp passed through Izuku’s chest. Katsuki was always a fighter. He never backed down even if he knew he was in a losing battle. He thought back to the first time he had helped the blond as Spiderman, watching him from the rooftops as Katsuki threw a full grown man over his shoulder, ready to fight even more if Izuku had not intervened. 

He did not have the same spirit as he did back then.

Izuku stepped forward, wanting to extricate Katsuki from this situation immediately. Maybe he could swing the blond down before he fought these villains. Maybe, since they said they didn’t need Katsuki anymore, they would let the blond go. 

“Bakugou, right?” Izuku said gently, crouching down to his level and reaching a hand out. “I— um, I saw you on the news—”

“Shut the fuck up .” Katsuki growled immediately, his voice curling in his throat. Izuku jumped back when the blond actually flinched away. His eyes were red and furious as they glared at him. “Don’t fucking touch me. This is all your fault .”

Izuku’s heart seized at the harsh words. Maybe he was right. Izuku knew better than to even associate Spiderman with the people in his normal life. This was what he was most afraid of, after all. His loved ones being used as collateral, or triggers, or bait . In the grand scheme of things, Katsuki being late for a jujutsu tournament didn’t matter if he knew he could prevent situations like these from happening. And Izuku knew, didn’t he?

So why did he still swing Katsuki to that damn tournament ?

Izuku was struck out of his cycle of self-loathing when the dark-haired man cackled, the laughter that ran through his body making his hands shake along with the chain links. “You have bad taste in friends, Spiderman.”

Katsuki huffed. “Not my friend, asshole .”

Izuku drew himself back up to a stand. The villain stopped his fading laughter and regarded him curiously, as if he could tell that there was a glare being aimed at him under the mask.

“What do you want ?” Izuku seethed.

“Nothing.” The dark haired man shrugged. “I simply want to find out what we’re up against.”

“Up against?”

At Izuku’s words, the villain scoffed. He let go of the chains, an endless, chiming sound ringing out as it hit the ground, and stepped over Katsuki’s body. The pierce of his blue eyes seemed so unnatural with the deep purple scarring that ringed it. Izuku almost wanted to step back in reflex as the man approached, but he stood defiantly still.

“You must be so… egotistical , if you think that you can do whatever you want in this city when you’re just another nobody like the rest of us.” The man let out a chuckle as he circled Izuku. “You come here, and you work with the authorities who never wanted you in the first place. Never asked for your help. In fact, they turned you away, didn’t they? Cut you down at the littlest mistake.” The villain stopped when he reached his side, and leaned in to whisper, “You should be working with us, Spiderman. Not against us.”

Izuku reeled back. What was with villains telling him that they were the same? Is that really how the world saw Spiderman? Is that the box that they put him in? Just another suped-up brat who terrorized the city, acting on no other motive but his own?

“You’re wrong.” Izuku shook his head. “I’m nothing like you.”

“Really?” The villain turned around to stand in front of him once again. His boot was dangerously close to Katsuki’s face, as if he had done it on purpose. “Even after the public belittled you a week ago, only for them to come crawling for your help now?”

Izuku shut his eyes momentarily against the words. They were all meant to rile him up, he knew that for sure. When he opened his eyes again, he tried to focus, forcing his senses to sharpen, examining the situation. He had to get Katsuki out of here. No more of this condescending back and forth. He could almost see his senses reaching out, like little tendrils that swept over the scene, looking for an opening. And then he found it. In the tilt of the dark-haired man’s body as he started circling Izuku again, stepping away from Katsuki. If Izuku challenged the villain to a fight right now, he might be able to direct his attention elsewhere and reach for Katsuki. And once he had the blond the rest would be easy. A quick descent, deposit him to safety, and then climb back up again. The rest he’d figure out as he went.

The most important thing right now was Katsuki .

Izuku could almost feel the blond’s barely suppressed, trembling breaths in the air. Could hear it.

“You want to know what you’re up against?” Izuku said, dropping into a fighting stance. “Well then why don’t you come and get a closer look?”

At this, the villain smiled, as if Izuku had given him what he wanted all along. He raised his silver gauntleted hands up to his chest. “If you insist.”

Izuku eyed the two other villains, Toga and Twice, who still maintained their positions from the start of this entire encounter. Dropped to the back and flanking both of the dark haired man’s sides. But at this indication of a fight, neither of them stirred. It seemed like an understanding that they were only there to watch. Maybe even as back up.

Izuku centered his focus on the scarred villain again. The silver gauntlets on his hands glinted menacingly under the sun. Izuku waited for any signs that hinted at what they were, but it stayed stagnant as it was. Was it purely to harden the villain’s punches, like some sort of all-encompassing knuckle ring? No, that would be too simple. If these villains operated under some sort of group, Izuku could expect the same level of weapons craftsmanship as the ones he saw from the duo in the Shibuya incident.

The dark haired man tilted his head smugly at Izuku’s stillness, misinterpreting his silence for hesitance. It was obvious that the villain wasn’t going to be the one making the first move. So Izuku mulled for another few seconds before he made a motion like he was darting to the right, waiting until the villain’s actions matched his own, before he ducked and swerved to the left. To Katsuki. He had an arm outstretched, just barely brushing the chain links that wrapped around Katsuki’s body, before he felt a blast of scorching heat on the side of his face. 

Izuku cried, jumping back out of instinct, clutching his cheek where the heat had landed heavily. When he looked up, he saw a grin split the villain’s face in two. The silver gauntlets in his hands were steaming, and the faint wisps of blue flames dissolved in the air from his metallic palm. Fire . The worst possible element Izuku could be dealing with. His webs could hold up against heat, but under extreme flames it could still burn. And his suit was definitely not immune to flames. He frantically smoothed his fingers over his mask, breathing out in relief when he found the fabric intact. Izuku shifted his stance again, recollecting himself. That was close. Way too close. 

His gaze slid over to Katsuki. Tendrils of smoke rose from the hem of his slightly singed uniform, near where Izuku had tried to grab him. The flames had been close enough to burn but not enough for the fabric to catch on fire. The blond’s eyes were wide, and with the frantic shuffles of his sneakers against concrete, he tried to maneuver himself to the side. The scarred villain only walked over to him and yanked on the chains again.

“You think I wouldn’t know you’d go for the brat first?” He scoffed, pulling Katsuki back to the center. “Give me some credit .”

“Let him go .” Izuku yelled. He tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. “Let me bring him down. You said you didn’t need him anymore.”

“No…” The dark haired villain smirked. “But it’s fun seeing you panic .”

Before Izuku could even retort, the villain reached down and grabbed Katsuki with more force than needed, yanking him up by the chain and throwing him over his shoulder. At this, the blond began to kick in retaliation, but it was clear that this scarred man possessed some kind of inhuman strength. The villain simply adjusted his grip on Katsuki’s legs and the blond couldn’t even lift them. 

He turned to his black-suited friend. “Twice.”

At this, the man’s mask shifted at the cheekbones, as if he was grinning under the fabric, before he pulled out a small black handheld device and pressed it. A cacophony of beeping rang throughout the unfinishing building. Izuku lowered his stance, bracing for an explosion, but the noises all sounded like they came from underneath his feet.

Before he had any more time to analyze the situation, the concrete slab beneath him shook as multiple explosions detonated at the same time. Izuku threw himself to the ground, expecting the floor to cave in from underneath his feet— or worse , for the entire building to collapse on itself. But he knew that the villains wanted to challenge him. When he lifted his head from the ground and the explosions subsided, the villains were standing on the edge of the top floor, near where the metal beams held up the edges. They took on a stance like they were about to drop down.

Just like Twice and Toga had done at the end of the Shibuya incident.

The dark-haired man smirked. “Let’s make this more interesting, shall we?”

Without another word, they walked off of the edge. 

Izuku scrambled after them, knowing exactly what was happening. He heard three simultaneous popping sounds. Tiny blasts. When Izuku looked over the edge, he saw the villains floating almost gracefully down to the floor beneath them, all three of them wearing the same outfitted boots that Izuku had been too distracted to recognize.

Only, it wasn’t really a floor anymore.

There was a punched out hole, about five feet wide in radius, in the center of the concrete floor. Metal rods stuck out from the craggly edges where the explosion had bitten off the ground. When Izuku squinted past the settling dust and debris, he saw the same hole throughout all the floors below. He had counted the storeys on his way up. Fifteen floors. All with the same void punched out in the center, taking up two-thirds of each area. If Izuku jumped through it, he would freefall all the way down. 

With a sudden jolt of sickness, he found that he understood why they did this. In this punched out playing field, Izuku would be forced to remain airborne throughout the entire fight, always suspended by his webs. Which would make him an easier target to flames. Easier to cut down. And if he somehow got Katsuki, he wouldn’t be able to put him down because there wouldn’t be any safe space to stand. The edges were too brittle, and too close to the gaping void. One wrong move, one stumble , would send him free falling.

It was disturbingly genius .

Izuku steeled himself and swung down. He was careful to land on the more structurally sound edges of the floor, where there was more room to stand. The villains stood on the precarious parts, the edges too close to brittle concrete, soothed by their explosive shoes. Katsuki was still thrown over the dark-haired man’s shoulder. His writhing had gone still, probably afraid of being dropped.

The villain smirked, skirting the edge of the floor with each arrogant sweep of his boots. He reached up a hand and patted the small of Katsuki’s back. The blond visibly flinched. “Let’s see if you can get to your friend here while going through me .”

Izuku dropped down to a fighting stance. “Why are you doing this?”

“To find out what we’re up against, remember?” The villain tilted his head. “Try to keep up.”

With a jolt of understanding, Izuku finally saw this meeting as it really was. 

A test .

And Izuku was really good at those.

He didn’t wait for any further taunts. With a web anchored on the exposed ceiling beams above him, he swung across the hole and tried to land a swipe at the villain. It was no use. He was too quick, jumping away with a hand braced across Katsuki’s back, small explosions that emitted from his boots leveling him across the void. Izuku chased him again. And again. Swing, ducked. Swing, ducked. He tried to change his angle. The villain sensed it immediately. Swerved his approach, and the villain jumped away. Izuku’s movements were by no means slow. In fact, they were too fast to contain, and his muscles strained to chase the speed. The two of them bounced across the floor like clattering marbles, back and forth and back again.

 At the fifth miss, Izuku staggered on the edge of the hole and tried to gain back his breath. The villain smirked and waited, leaning against one of the beams as he watched his doubled-over figure. 

“What’s wrong, Spiderman?” The man goaded, “Getting tired already?”

Izuku didn’t grace him with a response. With a cry, he lurched forward. The cycle started again. This time, Izuku attempted to catch the villain in his web shots. He aimed for the point of an elbow, or the heel of a boot. Anything that he could pull against to slow him down. It seemed pointless, at first. The man was like a ghost, a permeable specter, and Izuku always either missed, or the villain would dodge so lightning-quick it was almost as if he was never there.

Until one of the webs caught on the dark, fluttering hem of his cloak, and once Izuku felt the line pull taut, he threw his entire weight against the force.

The villain was yanked back, causing him to fall onto the concrete. Katsuki tried to squirm away, but the moment the man felt the blond’s weight leave his torso, he grabbed onto his ankle and pulled him in. Izuku took the opportunity to jump closer. With a cry, he drew back his fist, driving it solidly into the purple, stitched curve of his jaw. The villain cursed, scrambling in an attempt to get back up. Izuku only threw another punch. And then another. He dug a foot into the middle of his solar plexus and leaned his weight into it, shooting webs to keep the villain locked in place against the concrete. Katsuki took this opportunity to shuffle away. His arms were still bound across his back, and his movements were shaky and feeble at best, red eyes the widest he had ever seen them. 

“Careful!” Izuku cried. The blond was dangerously close to the edge of the structure. So close that he could roll right off.

Suddenly, Izuku felt metal digging into his ankle, painful and biting to the bone. When he looked down, the villain had burned a hole through the webs and wrapped both gauntleted hands around his heel, a smirk stretching across his face. In a searing blast, his silver fingers shot up in blue flames, and Izuku could feel the burning sensation build instantaneously, the fire fluttering up his calf in dizzying heat. Izuku wrenched his foot away with a torn cry, almost staggering back with the way the villain was trying to hold him in place. Already he could see the fire eat away at the fabric of his suit, revealing red, welted skin beneath it in the form of a hand mark, but the burning did not spread. His suit was not flammable, but it could still scorch.

The villain burned the rest of the webs holding him in place and made an immediate grab for Katsuki. Izuku pushed through the pain, webbing the man’s hand and yanking it back before he could reach for the chains. The villain burned that, too. Izuku tried to insert himself between Katsuki and the villain, but there was not enough ground for him to stand. He staggered over the blond’s legs, providing as much cover as he could, but the villain shot up immediately, his silver fists already laureled with blue flames as he swiped at Izuku’s face.

He dodged the first hit, the heat grazing his cheek as the metal hand flew past. The second came close to landing against his side. With every move the villain made, every defensive step that Izuku had to take, it only inched him closer and closer to the edge of the building. When the third swipe came, Izuku felt himself lose his footing. A sinking feeling swooped low in his stomach as blue flames flared across his face, his body tilting to avoid the hit. There was no time to check if he had more ground to spare as he stepped back. 

And the heel of his right foot met nothing.

The villain’s smug, scarred face filled his vision. And then the world spun.

Izuku wasn’t sure if he let out a cry, only knew that suddenly everything blurred as he fell over the edge. He had caught Katsuki’s wide, red eyes just as he felt himself lose balance. Caught the villain’s scarred hands reaching for his chains before he had fallen too far to keep them in sight. And then suddenly his body tilted towards the sky, his limbs pinned down by bracing winds. One floor, two floors . He was falling too quickly . Izuku’s throat seized as he scrambled to balance himself in the air. The wind was clawing at him from all sides, dragging him down, blurring his vision. He had to regain his bearings. The floors zipped past him in vague gray shapes. If he wanted to survive the fall, he had to shoot a web towards one of the steel beams. Catch himself before it was too late. It wasn’t any different from anchoring himself mid-swing, right? He could do it.

He only had to aim .

Thwip . The first web missed, flapping in the wind as the strand fell with him. Thwip . The second was closer, grabbing hold of a pipe that ran along an unfinished floor. Izuku felt the web persist for a second, his body jolting painfully at the resistance, before the pipe broke against the pull of his weight. The debris fell around him, all of them hurtling at the same time, pieces of metal and bits of concrete.

Six floors, seven floors . 

He was losing time .

On the third try, his web grappled the supporting beam closest to him. Thwip . He felt his body pull upwards in midair, crying as the shock of it tore at his limbs. Suddenly, he was dangling in the sky, swinging idly as the strand held him stagnant with a single thread. When he looked down, he counted maybe five floors before he would have met his fate against the dirt below. Izuku shivered, aiming another web with his spare hand to pull himself up onto a floor. He fell back against the concrete as he attempted to catch his breath, to calm his spinning head. He was careful this time to stay away from the edge, looking up at the blown up structure of the floor above him as his chest heaved, the void that echoed through all of the platforms.

And then he caught sight of something dangling over the hole near the very top of the building. Something that swung with the wind, as if suspended, small but impressionable enough for Izuku to notice the silhouette from afar. It moved, as if resisting. He picked up a sharp cry as the silhouette swung, barely audible from the distance. Izuku slowly staggered to his feet, a cold shock zipping through the length of his spine. Spider senses .

 If it were to fall, it would fall through all fifteen floors. 

Izuku knew immediately. He knew even before he saw something small drop from that top floor, coming off of that silhouette, falling past the void of his own platform so quickly that he almost didn’t catch sight of what it was.

One of Katsuki’s white school shoes.

Izuku’s heart stopped.

He didn’t allow himself a moment of reprieve before he clambered up the beams again, his heart hammering against his chest as he pulled himself into motion, his joints aching with every move. What was the villain thinking ? Was he going to let Katsuki fall? Was that the plan all along? He couldn’t have scaled the ten remaining floors fast enough. The closer he came, the more the villain’s voice became clearer and clearer. The rattle of chains.

“...don’t have to worry. You don’t think a little fall like that could kill your spider, don’t you?” The dark haired man cackled. 

“Let me go!” Katsuki yelled. Izuku couldn’t see what was happening, could only hear their voices as he pulled himself up faster and faster. “Let me go, you fucking bastard!”

“Hold still, kid.” The villain tutted. “You don’t want to fall any sooner than you’re meant to.”

“What are you doing ?”

“Giving your spider a little test.”

Izuku came up on the floor just in time to see the villain hold a gauntleted hand over Katsuki’s head, who was suspended by his chains secured around some overhead beams, right over the gaping void. The villain’s fists flared up in blue. The fire ate up the metal of the chains, and even from a distance Izuku could see them redden, the links growing weaker and weaker with the heat. Katsuki immediately froze, no doubt feeling the fire burn over his head. His face blanched as his voice wavered, looking up and down from the drop that awaited below and the steadily melting chains above.

“Stop…” He cried. There was total defeat there, something Izuku had never heard from him before. “Fuck! Just stop! Please!”

“What’s with the change of attitude?” The villain chided smugly.  “You don’t think he can catch you?”

Izuku hauled himself to his feet, his limbs burning to run across the floor in time. “Bakugou!” 

Katsuki’s head snapped towards him immediately, like hearing his own name sobered him up, the look of terror on his face warping into one of hope. His body dropped, just a few centimeters, as one of the metal links stretched, but not once did he tear his eyes away from Izuku’s.

“Hurry up, Spiderman.” The villain smirked. “These chains won’t hold for much longer.”

Izuku saw the chains sag. Saw the way Katsuki’s body continued to drop millimeter by agonizing millimeter. He wasn’t going to make it in time to catch him. The floor was simply too wide. But he could shoot out a web and anchor him. Could stop the fall from even happening in the first place, could take him in his arms and swing him back down. To safety.

Izuku held out his wrist and aimed the shot.

Just as the chains finally gave up in a molten orange snap , and Katsuki's body fell through the void.

The web sailed over his head. Izuku had caught Katsuki’s eyes as he fell, saw his eyes widen in horror at the sudden lurch. And then he was gone, dropping past the floor, past where Izuku could see him.

He was just about to jump in after him before he felt metal clamping over his forearm, pulling him back, and a blast of heat that engulfed his limb wrenched out a scream from deep in his chest.

The villain held him in place, and a grin stretched the scars lining his face. Blue flames danced across his face. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Izuku knew the pain was there, but he couldn’t fully register it past the way his brain was screaming at him to get to Katsuki. Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki . Nothing else seemed to matter. Nothing else seemed to exist .

Izuku must have shaken the villain off somehow, must have pushed past the pain that burnt his arm so badly he could smell the scorch of his own flesh. Because he landed a punch across the villain’s face hard enough to knock him off, sending him staggering back. At one moment Izuku was looking down over the craggly edge, tracing the way Katsuki’s body fell, still bound by chains, and at the next he was jumping after him, embracing the way the wind was pulling at his limbs once again, blurring his vision and deafening his ears. And he felt like he couldn’t fall fast enough. He straightened his posture, one arm out as if to reach for Katsuki, to pick him out of the air himself. They were falling past the floors too quickly. The holes they were sailing through weren’t even. With every millisecond that passed, Izuku was afraid that one of them would hit the crackled edges. He had to catch Katsuki with a web on one hand and anchor himself to a floor with another. He had to stop them both from falling.

And there wasn’t much time left.

He shot out a line to Katsuki first, aiming his wrist straight. It caught against his back, just above where his wrists were bound. There was no time to pull him closer. He didn’t want to yank at the line in case it would throw off the angle of his fall, sending him careening against the building instead. Izuku looked up, feeling dizzy as he watched the floors stagger over him. How many storeys had they fallen past? He hadn’t been counting. There wasn’t much time. He could feel his senses telling him that the ground was drawing near.

Izuku threw out a shot and closed his eyes.

And he felt the line pull taut as both he and Katsuki’s body jolted to a stop.

Izuku’s body ached as they dangled in the air for a few seconds, his limbs being stretched in either direction. He looked down at Katsuki’s figure, limp and silent as he hung from the single web thread a few feet below him, unmoving. Izuku’s heart hammered in his chest. Did he pass out from the fall? Was he simply staying still because he knew he shouldn’t move? Had the jolt from the sudden stop hurt him somehow? Did he hit something on the way down when Izuku wasn’t looking?

He shook his head. No . He’s fine . He had to be fine.

“Bakugou?” Izuku called out meekly.

No response. Katsuki’s body swayed in time with a gust of wind, completely unresponsive.

Izuku felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He hauled himself up frantically, pushing against all the sore muscles screaming at him to stop. When he crawled over the concrete floor, he tightened his grip on Katsuki’s line and pulled him up, too. There was no resistance. Not even the slightest bit of struggle. Izuku tore his chains apart first with a startling snap , unbinding the links from around Katsuki’s forearms, wrists, and around his waist. The metal left mottles of red against the blond’s skin, some of the points that received the most pressure even starting to bruise. Izuku pulled his body into his lap. When he gently turned Katsuki’s face up to his, his eyes were closed and his jaw was slack. There were tear tracks running down the sides of his face, dried and oddly traced, like the wind had whipped it off-course. He looked every bit like he was sleeping, caught in a peaceful dream.

Izuku cradled his jaw, hating how his suit prevented him from feeling the soft skin of Katsuki’s cheek, to grant him even that little bit of humanity. He sprawled a hand over the blond’s chest and felt the way it rose and fell gently beneath his palm. Alive . Izuku blew out a breath of relief. But it wasn’t enough.

“Hey, Bakugou.” He shook his shoulder gently. Katsuki’s head swayed with the movement, his face tilting to the side. Izuku caught his cheek in his hand. “ Bakugou .” He patted his fingers against the smooth skin. His breath started to catch in his throat. “Bakugou, please .” There didn’t seem to be enough air in the entire world. He felt the pinpricks of tears forming at the edges of his eyes. “ Ka —”

Seemingly at once, Katsuki stirred, his eyebrows pinching as he seemed to flinch at nothing. His eyes fluttered open, blinking disorientated before they widened at the sight of Spiderman’s masked face bent over his. Katsuki raised a weak arm to bat Izuku’s hand away from his face.

“Quit it.” He muttered hoarsely. “Jesus fucking christ.”

Katsuki made a move to get up. He winced as he tested the strength in his arms, still sore from being bound for god knew how long. Izuku placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and eased him back to sit.

“Don’t move.” At the scowl Katsuki gave him, Izuku frowned. “ Please . I’m going to get you down right—”

Just then, he heard the telltale pop, pop, pops of the villain’s boots as they descended to their level. Izuku looked around, over the edge of the building where he could see the ground much closer than it was before, the chatter of reporters and police alike now audible. They must be somewhere on the third floor, a decently long drop. He looked up as the dark haired man touched down first, Twice and Toga behind him.

“Impressive, Spiderman,” he goaded. “I see my colleagues weren’t lying about your speed.”

Izuku stood up, stepping forward to shield Katsuki with his body. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Not in the mood for talking?” The villain teased. “You’re capable of being angry, I see.”

“What do you want?” Izuku spat. “Do you want to fight ? Is that it?”

“There’s no need to fight .” He laughed, as if he found the concept of it amusing. He threw a look behind him, at his so-called colleagues. “Twice? Toga?”

Twice gave a thumbs up. “All good here, Dabi.”

The dark haired villain— Dabi , he was called, swung his gaze back to Izuku. A slow smile started to spread across his features, his ice blue gaze sending shivers down his spine. Reflexively, Izuku dropped into a fighting stance, which only seemed to make the villain’s smile stretch even wider.

“He was right about you.” He chimed thoughtfully.

Izuku furrowed his brow. “Who is?”

Dabi laughed. “You’ll see soon enough. He can’t wait to meet you.”

The three villains started to take their leave, dropping off the side of the building like they had done in Shibuya, making a quick escape. Izuku chased after their retreat, running to the edge of the structure as he called out to them.

“That’s it?” He yelled over the distance. “You—You took a civilian hostage just to drop him down fifteen storeys and leave ?”

Dabi turned back to him, sparing him a response as he hovered in mid-air. “He was simply collateral damage. I only came here to assess my opponent, after all. And now that we are properly acquainted, it’s my time to leave.” He gave a sickeningly polite smile. “Until next time, Spiderman.”

With those last words, Dabi and the two villains hovered over the city, disappearing in the distance. Izuku saw the crowd of reporters stir below them, pointing at the three moving figures. He even saw some of the police cars pull out of the construction site, maybe aiming to tail after their retreat. Izuku knew they wouldn’t catch them. They would be too slow. They were too slow for Spiderman , even. Not that Izuku wanted to follow after them. His entire body was sore from all the physical tension in the fight, from the falls and the punches and the burns. He was down for the count. This was enough action for the day —for the entire week — and besides, he had bigger concerns.

Izuku turned towards Katsuki, still sitting on the unfinished concrete floor with his arms cradled in front of his chest, like it hurt to even have them hanging against his sides. He was still looking over the view of the city, as if he could trace the villains’ movements, even now as they were blocked by buildings. 

Izuku crouched down beside him, careful to keep his hands to himself even though all the wanted to do was reach out. “Are you okay?”

Katsuki turned his gaze towards him, the look of blankness on his face sharpening into a half-hearted glare. But he didn’t say a word, instead opting to look down at his own lap, a frown shaping his lips.

“I’m sorry, stupid question.” Izuku said sheepishly. “Can you stand? I think it’s time to get you down.”

Behind them, where the construction site’s entrance was located, the reporters were starting to shout up at them. Asking if they were alright. Yelling at them to explain. Slowly, Katsuki’s eyes widened in panic. He shook his head frantically.

“No.” 

Izuku frowned. “I know there are a lot of reporters, but the paramedics—”

“ No .”

Izuku reeled back at the harshness of his tone, the adamancy in his eyes and the silent pleading behind the single word. In the silence that swelled between them, the reporters’ yelling only grew louder and louder. Katsuki’s eyes flickered over to the sound. Izuku understood. He was scared of them. It was because of those reporters that his name was so widespread, after all. That those villains ended up finding him all because of one little footage. It was only natural that Katsuki formed an apprehension against them. Izuku felt lost as he held the blond’s stubborn gaze. Reporters or not, he still had to get him somewhere safe.

“Fine.” Izuku sighed. But he straightened up to a stand and outstretched his arm anyway. “Come on, I’ll get you somewhere safe.” At Katsuki’s distrustful look, Izuku softened his voice. “I won’t bring you down there, I promise.”

Hesitantly, Katsuki took his hand. Izuku felt him put all his weight against the grip like a crutch. Like he couldn’t stand otherwise. He made sure his touches were light as he encircled an arm around the blond’s waist, only tight enough to be secure but not to hurt. With Katsuki’s body flush against his, he stretched out an arm and shot out a web, preparing to swing. He didn’t really know where he was going. Only knew that the first priority was to get out of here. Katsuki tensed in his arms as the ground blurred beneath them, the sounds of the reporters’ commotion dying down immediately as they flew past them. The blond looked intently into the crowd of gathered people as they moved, twisting his head back when they moved too far away.

“Looking for something?” Izuku asked against the wind in their faces. Perhaps he had hoped to see his parents, but there weren’t many civilians as much as there were reporters and paramedics.

Katsuki was silent for a moment before gracing him with a response.

“A friend,” he grunted out. “He would be stupid enough to come running here.”

Izuku realized with a pang that Katsuki was probably referring to him . And that he was right, even though he didn’t really know it. Suddenly he was all too grateful for his mask, hiding the grin that stretched across his face.

“Sounds like a good friend.”

Katsuki scoffed. “What use is a good friend if he’s just gonna get himself killed?”

Izuku huffed out a laugh at that. If only he knew.

Midway through a swing that had a particular jolt, Katsuki hissed and tucked his face into Izuku’s shoulder. Izuku tried to look down, but all he could see was a mess of blond hair. He smoothened a thumb over where his hand was curled against Katsuki’s hip in an attempt to comfort him. The tenseness in his body didn’t seem to dissipate.

“Are you okay?” 

“ Fine .” Katsuki gritted out unconvincingly.

“I can land for a second, if you need me to.” Izuku suggested. At the lack of response, and the rigidness in Katsuki’s that didn’t seem to go away, he frowned. “I’ll land.”

There was an office building with a flat roof coming up ahead of them. Izuku brought them down gently and made sure his feet hit the ground before Katsuki’s did, half-carrying him down to a sitting position. The blond immediately curled in on himself, a hand shooting towards his elbow.

Izuku leaned forward in concern. “Are you okay?”

Katsuki hissed and pulled back. “Will you stop fuckin’ askin’ me that? I’m fine .” 

“Let me just do a quick check up.”

“ No .”

Izuku rolled his eyes at his stubbornness. He knew the difference between when the blond was genuinely uncomfortable with a suggestion, and when he was just being a brat. This time, it was definitely the latter. 

“C’mon, it’ll literally only take a minute.” Izuku was already reaching out for his arm. When Katsuki tried to pull back, he planted a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. “Sorry, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Izuku felt the moment when the blond relented, his limbs relaxing when Izuku shuffled closer, gently taking his elbow into his hands. He could tell that the joint was swollen, and with a light press of his fingers above the ligament, he figured it was most likely dislocated. He held Katsuki’s forearm in one hand and his bicep in another, slowly trying to see if it would bend. Katsuki let out a long hiss and tried to wrench himself away. Izuku stopped him in time before he could apply any more strain on the joint.

“Relax,” he said softly. “I’ve done this to myself lots of times before. It’s only to check for bone stuff.”

“ Bone stuff .” Katsuki scoffed. “What are you, a fuckin’ doctor ?”

Izuku’s lips quirked fondly, running his fingers around the blond’s elbow one more time to check that it was indeed inflamed. Katsuki visibly winced. “Nope, just someone who’s broken a lot of bones before.” 

Izuku needed to make a temporary sling, just to make sure that Katsuki’s arm didn’t strain while they made their way to a hospital. He looked around the barren rooftop. There wasn’t anything he could repurpose, only pots of plants and low ramparts. Izuku looked down at his own body. The sleeve of his right arm was mostly scorched, from where Dabi had grabbed him when he tried to catch Katsuki. He tore the fabric off from the junction of his shoulder, pulling it straight so he could wind it around the blond’s arm.

“What the fuck are you doing ?” Katsuki exclaimed when he started to secure the fabric.

“I’m pretty sure your elbow is dislocated, but I don’t want to pop it back into place in case I screw it up.” Izuku said as he fastened a knot around Katsuki’s opposite shoulder. He gently eased Katsuki’s arm into the sling, not letting go until he could feel the fabric support its weight comfortably. He made one last adjustment to the length before he gestured at Katsuki to turn around. “Let me check your other arm.”

Katsuki parted his lips, as if wanting to protest, before he grumbled and did as he was told. Izuku made quick work of testing his other elbow, the junction of his shoulder and even the ridges of his knuckles. When he told the blond to flex the joints, he relented, albeit with a huff and a roll of his eyes. But he was mostly silent as Izuku checked for any broken bones.

Until he decided to break it with a hesitant voice.

“Look, I’m… sorry.” He bit out. Izuku looked up in surprise, but of course the blond had his face turned away, slightly pink at the cheeks. “For sayin’ some stuff earlier. I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you.”

Izuku smiled silently at the apology, not really knowing what to say. The anger was deserved to some extent, after all. But he would be lying if he said Katsuki’s words hadn’t hurt. He gestured for the blond to fold up his legs. “Move your knee.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I told you, I’m fuckin’ fine .”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Katsuki obeyed in the end, and Izuku checked again for any swelling, any weird shapes of bones or muscles. He could feel the blond staring at him the entire time, finally gaining enough bravery to look at his face. Izuku leaned away once he was sure that Katsuki’s legs were just as fine as the blond insisted they were. He sighed, more out of relief than out of exhaustion, leaning back against his arms as he looked out past the view on the rooftop. The sun was starting to set, orange hues bleeding out from the eye of the sun. Everything felt so calm now. So oddly serene.

“You can say all the ‘stuff’ you want,” Izuku said quietly, as he fiddled with his hands. One of them still covered in his suit, the other completely exposed. For a moment, he was oddly worried that Katsuki would recognize his hand or something, the shape of his arm. But he doubted the blond paid that much attention to him. “You were right.”

There was a beat of silence, until Katsuki answered with a huff. “No, I was just being an asshole.”

“Because you were scared.” Izuku insisted. “Because I put you in this position.”

“ Bullshit .” Katsuki shook his head. “If it wasn’t me it would’ve been somebody else. You heard the fuckin’ guy. They knew you would’ve come here no matter who was held hostage.”

I just wish it wasn’t you, was what Izuku wanted to say. But he swallowed against the bubble of those words and whispered instead, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always fuckin’ right.”

An unexpected laugh rose from Izuku’s chest. He drew up his legs and rested a cheek against his kneecap, keeping his gaze on Katsuki’s softly smirking face. “Glad to see our conversations aren’t just one-sided yelling anymore.”

“Well, there seems to be a fuckin’ pattern here.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I don’t want you to drop me out of the fuckin’ sky next time because I pissed you off.”

Izuku hummed thoughtfully. “That’s not a bad idea. I’ll keep that in mind for the next time you yell at me.” 

Katsuki picked up a small pebble from the ground and tossed it in his direction. “Fuck off.”

Izuku laughed and straightened up, scooting closer until he was almost behind Katsuki. “One more check-up, okay?” He felt the blond’s eyes try to follow him, but that was quickly abandoned when Izuku placed a steadying hand over the center of his chest, a red flush coming up to his ears. Immediately he could feel the blond’s erratically beating heart, only amplified by his spider senses. “Breathe in deeply for me. Don’t let it go until I tell you. Tell me if anything hurts.”

Izuku felt Katsuki’s breaths shorten for a few seconds, before the blond drew in a long breath, long enough for Izuku to feel his chest expand beneath his palm, feeling the muscles rise. 

“And out.” Izuku said, and Katsuki let go of the breath slowly. He kept his palm there for a moment before sliding it off. “Nothing hurts?”

Katsuki leaned away, grumbling something incoherent under his breath. Izuku smiled when he saw the blond’s flushed face as he barked out, “You give this much aftercare to all the people you save, bugboy?”

Izuku giggled, figuring the blond’s fluster meant that nothing was wrong, and found that he couldn't help himself. Words always came easier when he was under the mask. “Maybe only the cute ones.”

Katsuki physically reeled back at that, red eyes widening as his cheeks flushed an even deeper shade. “Who are you callin’ cute ?” He snarled. 

Izuku raised an unseen brow. “Who are you calling bugboy ?”

Katsuki sputtered for a moment before he haughtily turned his head away, scoffing. Izuku knew he would have crossed his arms if he could. “Well, sorry, bugboy , but I’m not interested.”

“Aw, c’mon, really?” Izuku teased. “The whole ‘ charming hero’ thing isn’t interesting enough for you?”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Who the hell is telling you you’re charming ?”

Izuku laughed. “Literally everybody, man. Keep up with the tabloids.”

Katsuki scoffed one more time before Izuku dropped the conversation, both of them sitting in a momentary spill of silence, looking out into the creeping sunset. He would have never said those things if he were just Midoriya Izuku, someone who Katsuki had known for most of his life, who had seen him at his most terrible, terrible moments. The confidence that came with the Spiderman mask was something that Izuku had been chasing for a long time. He wished words came just as easily to him without it.

Izuku cast a sidelong glance at Katsuki, who was still silently looking over the scenery. He was so handsome under the warm light, even with the exhaustion that showed in the slackness of his features; no longer sharp and intimidating, but almost open and vulnerable. It felt wrong to see him like this, especially when he wasn’t playing the part of Izuku. He’s only ever seen this kind of unshielded expression during the difficult days. When Katsuki was sick with a fever, or tired from practice, or simply asleep. Never fully conscious. Never with his wits about him.

Maybe it was also easier for Katsuki to lay down his defenses around a stranger.

Izuku’s eyes flickered down to the hand that Katsuki had braced against the ground, leaning back against his arm as he sat. An overwhelming urge to reach out to it flooded him. All of a sudden, the events of the entire day flooded his senses all at once. All of it, without the adrenaline and the fear that numbed his faculties. He had almost lost Katsuki today. Almost been the reason he died . And the blond wouldn’t have known who Spiderman truly was all along. Wouldn’t have known that Izuku would risk anything to save him. Anything . Wouldn’t have known…

A warm feeling spread across his chest. Something terribly familiar. Something that felt exactly like orange bleeding out from the eye of the sun.

It would be so easy to tell him now. The words were at the tip of his tongue.

And he had his mask on, after all.

Katsuki spoke before Izuku could bring himself to, voice steady and teasing in the warm air.

“I have an idiot friend who’s fucking in love with you,” he turned around to him with a smirk. “You got a thing for redheads?”

Izuku had to blink several times before he digested the words. Katsuki was talking about Kirishima . Izuku burst out into a laugh and shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. “I prefer blonds.”

Katsuki flushed and scowled. “Jesus fucking christ.”

Izuku grinned. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

The moment was gone now. It wouldn’t have been a good idea to tell Katsuki now anyway, not when the shock of today’s events were still fresh in his mind. And besides, knowing how he had the tendency to stumble over his words, he would probably want to rehearse what he wanted to say first. For when he would tell Katsuki he was Spiderman, that is. Not… whatever that other thing was. And Katsuki needed to rest. To heal . And Izuku didn’t want to be another reason for any stress. God only knew how Katsuki would react once he knew. Honestly, Izuku didn’t think he was ready for it just yet.

He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, trying to pull the soreness out of his muscles. It only made things a little bit better.

“I’m gonna get you to a hospital.” Izuku beckoned Katsuki to stand. “Get that elbow fixed up. And all the bruises, too.”

Katsuki straightened himself up, albeit grumbling all the way. “M’fine.”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to know for sure.”

Katsuki cast a long look at the burn that encircled Izuku’s sleeveless arm, a few inches above Izuku’s wrist. It was vaguely hand shaped, red and welted with some of the skin singed black. “What about you?”

Izuku actually startled at the question. He looked back at Katsuki as they made their way to the edge of the rooftop, preparing to swing over the city again.

“The whole secret identity thing doesn’t let me make use of public resources.” Izuku shrugged. “But I have a perfectly good first-aid kit at home and freakishly fast healing. I’ll be fine.”

Katsuki didn’t look impressed by the reassurance. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his school blazer and drew out a white handkerchief. Izuku had always thought he was oddly prim for always carrying one around. The blond silently pulled at Izuku’s arm until he had it straightened out, one-handedly draping the fabric over the burn mark until Izuku caught the gist of it and helped him out, tying it securely into place near the base of his wrist. He looked back up at Katsuki in silent awe, who, in true Katsuki fashion, was already nonchalantly turned away.

“Thanks.” Izuku said softly.

Katsuki simply walked to the edge of the rooftop, waiting until Izuku stepped closer to him and draped an arm around his waist. “Now we’re even.”

“Really?” Izuku rolled his eyes. “Even when I saved your life, like, multiple times now?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Katsuki barked, even as he wound an arm around Izuku’s neck.

Izuku laughed. “Hold on tight.”

Katsuki seemed more at ease now as Izuku jumped over the edge, swinging them across the sun-drenched city. They were closer to their side of town now, and Izuku knew of a hospital not too far from where they were. When they swung low to the ground, anchored onto lampposts and low-storeyed buildings, people gaped up at them and pointed. Izuku’s hearing was sensitive enough to pick up that they were calling out to him, murmuring amongst themselves about how they had just seen him on live TV, how they recognized the blond schoolboy. It didn’t take long for him to finally touch down onto the hospital parking lot. He settled Katsuki on the ground gently. The entrance to the emergency rooms were just off to the side.

Katsuki slipped his arm off from around Izuku’s shoulder, looking a little green in the face as he tested his balance. Medical workers were already peering out of the automatic doors in curiosity, recognizing his suit. Two of them ran out to help Katsuki into the building, taking him from Izuku’s arms. Katsuki fought against them at first, insisting he could walk on his own, until he tripped over his own feet and Izuku had to dart out to catch him.

“You good on your own?” Izuku asked warily.

Katsuki straightened himself up and nodded. “Yeah.”

The nurses chattered amongst themselves, asking Katsuki all the necessary questions about his injuries. Izuku watched them turn and make their way into the emergency entrance. He wanted more than anything to stay, but he knew he needed to go home and change into his school uniform first. Or maybe he could find that alley where he had ditched his bag on his way to the construction site. That would make things quicker. He hoped to god that none of his friends had gone out to look for him. Izuku dug his phone out of his suit pocket and checked the time. It was an hour after class was dismissed. Aside from a few concerned texts from his friends, it didn’t seem like anyone was too worried. Ochako probably covered for him, made sure none of them went after him.

“Oi!” 

Izuku looked up from his phone. Katsuki was still outside the hospital doors, looking like he was fighting against the nurses while they tried to push him inside. He was looking straight at Izuku, his expression tired and bold at the same time.

“Thanks, or whatever.” He said sheepishly.

Izuku stared for a moment, before breaking out into a grin. “Don’t mention it.”

As soon as he saw Katsuki disappear past the doors, he webbed himself up and swung back to the alley where he had left his things. He couldn’t risk going back home to change and patch up. His mom could be home. Her job often let her off early when there were villain attacks like these, and she no doubt would have gone looking for him after she saw that Katsuki was the boy being held hostage. That is, if the school didn’t already call to tell her that he had run out. Izuku knew he was going to be in big trouble for that, but couldn’t find himself to regret it.

The alley was still deserted as he swung down from above. He grabbed his bag of clothes from where he had tucked it behind a dumpster, changing into it quickly. The hospital was only a ten minute walk from here. Izuku hobbled on one foot as he tugged up his pants, fastening on his belt. The blazer covered most of his injuries. He decided to keep Katsuki’s handkerchief around his arm just so the burn wouldn’t bleed into his white school shirt, even though some splotches of crimson were already starting to show. Izuku pulled out his phone and did one last check of his face in the camera. Nothing seemed to be bruised, thank god. There was no way he would be able to cover that up without going home.

He bundled up his tattered suit in the bag and threw the entire thing in the dumpster. It was an old prototype anyway, and it was entirely unsalvageable now. He had to remind himself to make another suit to store in his locker for emergencies like these. Izuku hoped he would never have to use it again, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He made his way to the hospital. If anyone asked how he knew that Katsuki was being treated there, then he’d just lie about seeing a tweet or something about Spiderman being spotted in the area. He really didn’t care about the consequences anymore. Things couldn’t get much worse than it already was, after all. All Izuku could think about was having to be there by Katsuki’s side. Not as Spiderman, but as Izuku. He wanted Katsuki to look him in the face and see that recognition in his eyes. He hadn’t realized how differently Katsuki treated other people until he had interacted with him as Spiderman. Even the way he looked at him was different, his mannerisms and his tone of voice. He was an entirely different person, and Izuku needed that person right now.

Izuku ran past the emergency room doors before anyone could stop him. He peered into all of the curtains that hid the beds lined against the walls. Not Katsuki, not Katsuki, not Katsuki . Izuku cursed himself for not checking where the blond was being treated before he left. For all he knew, they could have taken him to a private room. He didn’t know the true extent of Katsuki’s injuries, after all. He was no doctor. 

A nurse caught him drawing back the curtains. Just as she made a move to say something, Izuku caught sight of a familiar head of blond hair resting against a bed. 

“Kacchan!” Izuku cried. The blond turned to him in surprise as he rushed to his side, leaning over the bed railings. Katsuki’s arm was out of the makeshift sling, now wrapped in clean bandages. Izuku gave him a quick once-over. Nothing else seemed to be wrong with him except for the way his shoulders sagged. He looked exceptionally tired. “Are you okay? How do you feel? Why aren’t you—”

Wordlessly, Katsuki shot forward and pulled him into a tight hug, one of the tightest ones in their entire friendship. Izuku easily reciprocated it, needing it just as much as the other did, splaying both palms over Katsuki’s back. The blond’s heart was hammering hard against his chest. Something that Izuku wouldn’t have known if not for his spider senses. He caught a hitch of breath by his ear, where Katsuki had buried his face into his shoulder. Izuku tried to pull back, but the blond held him in place.

Izuku frowned. “Kacchan?”

“Shut up.” Katsuki said gruffly as he held onto him tighter. “Just shut up.”

Izuku stilled, nodding into the blond’s shoulder as he let him have this. It wasn’t often that Katsuki showed these signs of vulnerability. After a moment, his grip around Izuku’s shoulders loosened. He took that as a sign to draw back, holding the blond at arm’s length as he held his gaze.

“Are you okay?” Izuku asked. “We were all so worried.” 

Katsuki nodded tiredly. “Just some scuffs.” 

“What about your arm?”

“Dislocated. Some nurse popped it back and gave me painkillers.” Katsuki shrugged, easing back into the bed. “That’s about it.”

So Izuku had been right about the arm. He shook his head, the events of the entire day coming back in full force once again. Waiting around outside of Katsuki’s house after being late. His friends telling him everything was fine. The wait. He had been so stupid for not taking action sooner. His spider senses were trying to tell him that something was wrong the entire time, and he just ignored it. What was the use of having powers if he didn’t even use it?

Izuku let out a shaky breath, curling his hands into fists. “I should’ve known you were in trouble. I felt it. I shouldn’t have been late this morning. I should’ve looked for you. Maybe then— Maybe I could’ve—”

“ No .” Katsuki interjected, so forcefully that Izuku snapped up to look at him. The blond’s face was as serious as he’s ever seen it. “If something like this ever fuckin’ happens again, I don’t want you anywhere near it. You understand?”

Izuku stared at him for a moment, tears forming in his eyes. Katsuki didn’t break their eye contact for even a second. 

But he knew it was a promise he couldn’t possibly keep. 

And yet.

“Yes.” Izuku said softly, tearing his eyes away.

A momentary silence lapsed between them. Izuku didn’t think he'd ever felt so guilty in his entire life. All the lying, the fake promises, the misleading. He had dug himself into a hole too deep to get out of. Not that he ever intended on telling Katsuki that he was Spiderman. At least, not in the near future. But he also hadn’t anticipated that this secret identity was going to be such a huge part of his life. He knew it wasn’t something he was able to keep to himself for much longer. And besides, he had so many more questions he wanted to ask Katsuki. How did the villains get to him? Did they say something? Did he have any idea who was after Izuku? He should’ve asked him when he was Spiderman, but all he could think about was getting Katsuki to safety.

Izuku blew out a breath. Let’s face it, he really wasn’t any good at this hero business.

As if he could read his mind, Katsuki reached out and touched Izuku’s palm where it was resting on his bed. He looked up, still teary eyed, and Katsuki rolled his eyes fondly.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, leaning back against the bed. “The villains cornered me when I was on the way to your apartment. It wasn’t because you were late. I haven’t even gotten there yet. This blond girl came up to me. For a second I thought she might’ve been an extra from our school or something, but I didn’t recognize her shitty uniform. She just fuckin’ kept on talking and talking…” Katsuki shook his head, as if to clear it. “I don’t even remember what she said. Just suddenly… nothing. Someone must’ve came up behind me and knocked me out.” 

Izuku’s frown deepened. He hated the thought of Katsuki being entirely defenseless, alone with  the villains. Unconscious . His hands balled into tight fists, feeling the need to say something but also wanting to hear the rest of the story.

“Next thing I knew I was in this dark ass room. I don’t know where it was. There was this guy with blue hair… He was obviously in charge. I have no fuckin’ idea why he wasn’t at the construction site. They were all asking me if I knew Spiderman.” Izuku waited on bated breath as Katsuki paused. “I told ‘em ‘ fuck no , I don’t know bugboy, and even if I did I wouldn’t fuckin’ tell them , are they fuckin’ insane?’ And then they started pulling up all this detailed shit about me. They knew where I lived, my fuckin’ parents, our school, our friends…” Katsuki didn’t seem as troubled as he should be. Only rolled his eyes as if he was convinced those threats were empty. “I told ‘em they could threaten me all they wanted but I literally don’t know shit. Fuckin’ bugboy was just taking me to a stupid fuckin’ tournament. Then they said they knew all about that. About my jujutsu history.” 

Katsuki’s irritated tone started to disappear towards the end, petering out into distraught. His voice was a lot darker, more filled with contempt, as he continued through gritted teeth.

“They said it was a pity I didn’t have any fuckin’ mutations or machinery like them because I was a good fighter, and I would’ve made…” Katsuki shook his head. “I would’ve made a good villain .”

Izuku felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“Kacchan…”

“They knocked me out again and when I woke up I was at that construction site.” Katsuki barrelled on, not giving Izuku any time to interject, even though he could hear the strain in his voice clear as day. “Spiderman came to save the fuckin’ day. Again .”

Izuku moved closer to the edge of the bed. “Aren’t you glad that he did?”

Katsuki went silent for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. When Izuku looked down at the sheets, he saw Katsuki’s knuckles white as paper, lightly trembling as he held them tight. A wet gleam was starting to form in his eyes. 

“It’s not about that ,” he seethed. “It’s just…” Katsuki blew out a frustrated breath, and with that breath came a small, barely-suppressed hiccup, and the first of many tears rolled down his cheek. “Why me?” He raised an uninjured arm and angrily wiped it across his face. “Why is it always me ? I’m the one always in fuckin’ danger . I’m the one who looks weak .” He shook his head. “I’m tired of needing to be saved .”

Izuku didn’t really know what to say. He reached out and put a hand over Katsuki’s fist, keeping it there until he could feel the trembling disappear, second by second, until his knuckles relaxed and his palm lay flat against the bed once more. Katsuki’s breaths were still short as he tried to force himself to stop the tears. Izuku waited until he eased himself into his normal breathing.

“You’re not weak , Kacchan.” He started to say, tightening his hold on Katsuki’s hand. The blond peered up at him through glassy eyes. “And you might need to be saved sometimes but it’s only because villains like them shouldn’t even exist in the first place. It’s not fair. You can’t compare yourself to them.” Izuku put as much conviction behind his voice as possible. “You got your strength out of years of training. They got theirs through shortcuts . Radiation or whatever the hell it is that makes superpowers. We all know that even Spiderman’s powers aren’t natural.” He held Katsuki’s gaze firmly in place. “Your strength is your own. Completely, completely your own. And you should be proud of that.”

Katsuki stared at him wordlessly for a moment, his eyes wide and soft, before he sniffled once, wiping an arm across his eyes again. A small laugh rose wetly from his chest.

“You’re so fuckin’ cheesy sometimes.” He shook his head.

Izuku broke out into a grin. “You like it.”

They kept each other’s gaze for a moment. It felt relieving to finally see Katsuki without the mask, to feel that he was being seen back. There was a fondness there that was missing when Izuku was masquerading as someone other than himself. A fondness that he grew to understand only belonged to him. Katsuki’s hand slowly twisted until he was the one resting his palm on top of Izuku's, gentle fingers creeping up his wrist, as if looking for something more to hold. Izuku felt his heart seize, speed up, do somersaults against his ribs. This was much more intimate than any of their usual touches. This was gentle, and unnecessary, and felt too warm. This was…

Katsuki looked down at their hands.

And with a sudden jolt, he retracted quickly, as if Izuku had suddenly burst into flames, eyes wide. Izuku furrowed his brows in confusion until he followed his gaze.

Splotches of red were starting to bleed from the sleeve of his blazer. No . Izuku felt his heart plummet. No, no, no . He told himself not to panic. This could be from anything, he tried to reason. He could still dig himself out of this one. But Katsuki had seen it. Katsuki had been the one to wind his own handkerchief over this wound. Katsuki—

His eyes shot up to Katsuki’s, wanting to say something, to explain himself, to lie and lie and lie once again, but the blond’s eyes were already wide with horror, his mouth slightly parted as his eyes darted from the blood, to Izuku, to the blood again.

Izuku felt a shiver rise to his shoulders.

That look was unmistakable .

“Katsuki!” A voice cried out as Izuku heard the curtains part. “Oh my god, Katsuki!”

It was Aunt Mitsuki, running up to the opposite side of the bed with Uncle Masaru following closely behind. She pulled Katsuki into a tight hug and fussed over him, picking apart every little bruise and scratch. Izuku hadn’t seen so much physical affection between them in years.

But Katsuki was entirely silent, his eyes still trying to look for Izuku over his mom’s shoulder. Izuku curled into himself, as if by making himself smaller, he would suddenly turn invisible. He couldn’t have this talk right now. He couldn’t do this. 

“Are you okay, son? Did they hurt you?” His dad held his face in his hands, turning him this way and that.

“You brat!” His mom yelled. “You should’ve called us the moment you got here! How could you let your poor mother worry like that?! I had to ask the police officers where that Spiderman put you! And nobody knew! Do you understand—”

“Izuku!” 

Izuku turned away from the Bakugous’ reunion in time to see his own mother walk past the curtains, quickly pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Izuku let himself be manhandled into it. He sagged against her embrace, trying to wil himself not to cry, not to panic, not to do anything that could make this even worse. But he felt his throat closing up with every passing second. It was getting hard to breathe .

“We were looking all over for you two.” His mom said as she pulled away. “Are you feeling okay?”

Izuku took one look into her worried green eyes, searching his own for any answers, like they might be written in his pupils.

He had to get out of here. 

“I want to go home.” He croaked.

“What’s wrong?” His mom’s eyebrows immediately furrowed. She looked over her shoulder to the Bakugous, Aunt Mitsuki still busy reprimanding her son while Uncle Masaru tried to calm her down. “Did you and Katsuki have a fight?”

“No, mom, I just—” Izuku shook his head. “I just really need to go home right now.”

His mom took one look at his face, and nodded.

“Okay.” She rubbed circles into his shoulder. “Okay, sweetheart, let’s go home.”

They didn’t even say goodbye to the Bakugous. His mom insisted that they were too busy in their own worlds anyway, and that they should probably give them some space. And if anybody noticed the way Katsuki was staring after Izuku blankly the entire time, an unreadable, distant expression on his face, nobody said a single thing. His mom ushered him into the car and they drove back home. Izuku collapsed against the passenger seat and stared hollowly out the window. The scenery blurred in front of him. He didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to do . Today was a Friday, so he had the entire weekend ahead of him before school started again. Before he had to face Katsuki. Should he pretend it never happened? Should he just act like everything was fine? What was going through Katsuki’s head? Did he reach the conclusion that Izuku thought he did? That horrified look… he wouldn’t have had that expression unless he knew, right?

Izuku shivered. He knew .

“What are you thinking about?” His mom asked him after a moment.

“Nothing.” Izuku shook himself out of his thoughts. There would be plenty of time for that over the weekend. “I’m… glad that Kacchan is safe.”

His mom hummed, as if in understanding. 

“Your teachers called.” She prodded lightly. “I heard you ran out of school.”

“Yeah.” Izuku winced. “I’m sorry, mom. It won’t happen again.”

“I’m guessing you went to where they were holding Katsuki?”

“Yeah. But don’t worry, I didn’t get close.” Izuku assured her. “There wasn’t much I could do, after all.” 

“It’s okay, ‘Zuku.” She said gently, but quickly wrinkled her nose. “Well, I mean it’s not okay. I would rather you didn’t go running into danger every time one of your friends is in trouble.” She sighed, shaking her head like she knew Izuku couldn’t help this reckless part of himself. “Just…don’t do it again next time. Leave it to the professionals. Like Spiderman!”

Izuku paused.

He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Yeah.” Izuku said. “I’ll just leave it to Spiderman next time, mom. I promise.”

“How about we send over a pot of soup to the Bakugous tomorrow, huh? If they’ll be back at home by then, that is.” His mom suggested, probably in an attempt to cheer him up. “You can help me cook! Do you think Katsuki would still like that spicy seafood stew I used to make for you boys?”

Tomorrow ? He didn’t want to face Katsuki any sooner than he had to. But if he refused, his mom would surely know that something was wrong with him. And then she would ask questions of her own. And he would have to answer to all of them . He wanted to scream. Izuku could probably get away with asking Ochako to send it over in his stead. She would do it for him once he explained.

This was all a horrible mess.

He forced himself to smile. “I think he’ll love it.”

Izuku felt disconnected to his body the entire time his mom pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building, the entire time they made their way up to their unit, the entire time he laid in bed that night recounting everything he could have done differently. Looking for Katsuki sooner. Catching him faster. Going back home to change. And yet in the forefront of all those thoughts was Katsuki’s horrified face, his wide eyes looking almost fearful of him. The way the warmth of his palm left his hand so quickly it felt like it had never been there at all.

Katsuki .

Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki.

Izuku drifted into fitful sleep, and dreamt of nothing good.

Chapter Text

Izuku decided that the safest course of action was to sequester himself in his room.

He laid in his bed amongst kicked-off covers, phone lying face-down on his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. There was a crack along the edge of the trim, clawing its way to the center of the room. Izuku kept his eyes resolutely on the feathered line and sighed.

“I don’t know what to do , Ochako.”

Ochako’s hum crackled from his phone.

Izuku didn’t know how long they’ve been on call now. He couldn’t even remember what made him sift through his contact list in the first place, what nasty thought had finally made him decide that the silence of his room wasn’t enough. But the minute Ochako had picked up the call, all the words seemed to pour out of him. About Katsuki. About the terror in his eyes and his lightning-quick recoil. Izuku picked up his phone from his chest to see if there were any new notifications from the blond. 

Nothing. All the messages he had sent last night remained unread and unanswered.

“ He hasn’t spoken to you since? ”

“No.” Izuku huffed, dropping the phone on the bed. “But it’s only been a day.”

It was Ochako’s turn to sigh this time. He heard the crinkle of paper on the other line. She had been doing homework when he called her.

“ I think you should just tell him at this point, ‘Zuku. ”

“I can’t .” Izuku rolled onto his side, burying his face into his hands. The last half an hour was just this, back and forth. “I can’t, ‘Chako. I’ve literally spent hours practicing in the mirror and I just don’t know what I would say .”

“ Are you really sure that he knows? ” Ochako asked. “ Like, a hundred percent? What if he isn’t sure himself? What if he, like, had a concussion and forgot? ” Her voice grew less serious at the end, a tinge of mirth bleeding its way through the speakers.

Izuku huffed. “That’s not even funny.”

He could practically hear her shrug over the phone. “ I’m just saying. ” 

Izuku buried his head into his pillow, silently contemplating if smothering himself to death was a dignified way to go. At least then he wouldn’t have to face— whatever the hell this was. 

He lifted his gaze to the digital clock on his bedside table. It was now three in the afternoon, which meant that he had spent the better part of the day stressing himself out in his room. An hour earlier his mom had stuck her head in just to check up on him, telling him that the pot of soup she made for the Bakugous was ready for him to send over. Izuku had told her to give him a moment, gesturing at Ochako on the phone. That seemed to appease her, at least for now, but he knew that he couldn’t stall any longer. 

“My mom wants me to send over some food to his house today.” Izuku groaned, face-planting back on the bed. “Can you please come over and give it to him for me?”

Ochako’s sigh crackled over the speaker. “ ‘Zuku… ”

“I can’t face him right now, Ochako, I can’t.” Izuku ran a frantic hand through his hair. “I’ll— I’ll just end up saying something really, really stupid and make this so much worse. And then he’ll never talk to me ever again .”

“ You do realize how guilty that would make you look, right? ” Ochako said gently, but the intent behind her words was firm. “ Like, if he isn’t sure now, he’ll totally know when he sees you avoiding him like that. And what happens on Monday when we all go back to school? You can’t just keep running away from him. ”

Izuku quietened at the sound of the last sentence. Running away was never something he was familiar with. He would never consider himself as a person who would ever back down from anything. Not willingly, at least. But as he reflected on his latest exchanges with Katsuki, he found Ochako’s words to ring true. Izuku constantly lied to him, deflected and smiled, which was fine at first. It was simply the name of the game, after all. But Izuku kept on lying to him even when he knew the lies didn’t catch this time around. Even when the only thing he could count on was not the strength of his lies, but Katsuki’s misplaced trust. And Katsuki…

Everything was different when it came to Katsuki.

A hush of rustling fabric whispered over the line, as if Ochako was moving closer to her phone, like her virtual proximity would somehow comfort him. And in a way, it did. Izuku let out a shaky sigh.

“ I wanna help you, ‘Zuku. I’ll send over the food if you still want me to. ”

Izuku knew there was truth behind her words. If there was anyone he could count on to be honest with him, it would be her. He shook his head, then cleared his throat when he realized she couldn’t see him.

“No,” he said. “No, you’re right. I can’t keep running away.”

Ochako made a satisfied sound at that, and soon Izuku could hear the scritch of her pencil against paper again. He closed his eyes, imagining that she was here with him right now, doing her homework on his desk while he laid sprawling on his bed, or that he was there with her, sitting on the pink rug on her bedroom floor, a place he’s only been to a handful of times. Ochako lived farther away from the city than every single one of their friends. There was a story behind that, something about her parents wanting her to have top-quality education even if their lifestyle didn’t reflect it. Ochako had only brought it up once, and Izuku didn’t want to pry any further. 

“ How’s your arm? ”

“It’s fine.” Izuku tested the said limb, curling it towards himself. “I think it’ll be mostly healed by Monday, but I’ll still have to skip gym. The burn mark is still gonna be there.”

As the line quietened again, Izuku shifted on his back, facing the ceiling once more. He thought about how he might reply if Katsuki confronted him on the spot. It would be a lie to say that he hasn’t thought about this scenario a thousand times over in his head, the good endings, the bad, and everything in between. Most of them included Katsuki being angry, screaming at him— which he’s done for much less in the past. He would demand an answer. An explanation. He would…

Izuku’s face twisted. This was where the scenarios branched off. Izuku would attempt to coax him out of his anger, giving him excuses that he’s sure wouldn’t be enough. And Katsuki… Well, Katsuki might be proud of him. He might understand. He might simmer down enough to listen to him. And then, he would let Izuku curl his arms around his shoulders and draw him in for a hug, because god knew Izuku would need one after all that. Katsuki would let Izuku crack a half-hearted joke or two, and he would give him one of those half-smiles that really meant the full thing. And then he wouldn’t be angry anymore.

Or, he could be disappointed in him. Utterly disappointed in him. He would look at Izuku with scorn and disgust both. And he would use the same tone he used to talk down on Spiderman on their lunch table. The same words, even. And then what? Katsuki would storm off, and Izuku would be left alone, and maybe after a few days they would speak again. But if they didn’t?

Izuku curled in on himself, tucking his knees to his chest. It already hurt so much just thinking about all the things that could go wrong. It would hurt a thousand times more once it did. If it did.

Izuku liked to pride himself on how well he knew Katsuki; how he could predict his actions, his moods, the next words to come out of his mouth. But right now, he might as well be a stranger.

“ You’re thinking so hard that I can practically hear you over the line right now. ” Ochako hummed.

“Sorry.” Izuku mumbled. He turned to the phone lying beside him. “Ochako, can I ask you something?”

“ Of course .”

Izuku took in a breath. “How did you feel when I first told you I was Spiderman?”

The line went silent, and Izuku felt himself flinch. 

He knew the way Ochako found out about his secret identity was rather unceremonious. Just a mistake, really. He still remembered the way her face opened with shock, his birthday cake dropping to the floor, candles and all. He remembered crossing the small length in his room to clap a hand over her mouth before she could squeak out a scream and alert his mom. She had just stood there, staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers, even as Izuku yanked off his mask and hissed ‘ it’s me, Ochako! ’. It was easy to laugh at that memory now, but Izuku never really asked her how she felt about it.

The call crackled back to life as Ochako let out a breath.

“Hm…” she said, thoughtfully. “You didn’t exactly tell me, I guess. But I was surprised of course. Like, ‘one of my best friends is Spiderman?! Oh my god!’. You definitely had me freaked out. And then I was….not? After I thought about it, it seemed so obvious that someone like you would be risking their life to save the city. It’s not something to be ashamed of, Izuku. You should be proud.” 

Izuku’s lips pulled into a small smile. Trust Ochako to turn a simple question into a pep talk. He opened his mouth to thank her, but she kept barrelling on.

“ But at the same time, I know it’s different between me and Bakugou. I know you know that too. You guys have been friends for so much longer, and you’ve actually interacted with him as Spiderman multiple times before. ” Ochako said gently, immediately sensing why Izuku was asking the question in the first place. Sometimes her insight was almost scary. “ But let’s be honest, you weren’t actively lying to him. It’s not like he’s ever actually asked you if you were Spiderman and you said no. Sure, he’d feel a little angry that you didn’t tell him since the start, but I know that he cares about you a lot. I’m sure he’d understand. ” 

Izuku shook his head. He wanted so badly to believe what she was saying. To anyone else, it was the simple, logical truth. As strong as his friendship was with Katsuki, he had to admit that sometimes he found himself in rocky places. Especially when they were younger. They had a strong bond, but Izuku still wasn’t a mind reader. Katsuki was too closed off for him to be able to confidently anticipate his reactions. The blond was just too volatile a character. 

“Kacchan hates secrets.” Izuku said softly. 

“ But this is more than just a silly childish secret. This is about safety, ” Ochako reminded him. “ I mean, just look at all the heroes that have their identities public! Their loved ones are always in danger. You have every reason not to tell him, for your own safety and everyone around you. You haven’t even told your mom yet, and you practically tell her everything! So I don’t think he should be too offended. ”

Izuku huffed out a small laugh at the comment about his mom. “Thanks, Ochako.” He said, but the words came out more unconvinced than he meant.

Ochako sensed his dilemma. “ ‘Zuku, what are you really worried about right now? ”

Izuku scrubbed his hands over his face.

“I don’t know…” he mumbled. “I guess that he’ll never want to speak to me again. I think he’ll get over the not-telling-him part, sure. Someday, maybe. But what about being Spiderman?” He let out a sigh. “We all know how he feels about that . I’m scared that, even when he finds out it’s me , he’ll still think it’s stupid .” Izuku felt his eyes water, sniffling defiantly to keep the tears in. “That… That he’ll say something so mean that it makes me not want to be Spiderman anymore.”

“ Oh, ‘Zuku… ” Ochako said. He could almost hear the frown on her face. “ Of course he won’t do any of those things. I’m not as close to him as you are, obviously, but I know Bakugou has a good heart. He would never shun you out for doing something good. ” 

Izuku let out a small laugh, rubbing a fist over his eyes. “You know, he’s always wanted to be a hero when we were younger.” He couldn’t help but smile at the memory of them playing with figurines, battling it out in video games, dressing up as heroes with ratty blankets as capes. “It was why he took jujutsu.”

Ochako mulled over his words for a moment. “ You’re afraid that he’ll be, what, jealous? ”

“I don’t know.” Izuku shrugged. He had to admit it was a thought that had crossed his mind more than once. Especially after the outburst Katsuki had when he won their impromptu sparring match. “I know we’re not kids anymore, and I’m hardly a hero.”

“ You are. ” Ochako’s voice was firm. “ You are a hero, Izuku. Ask anybody on the street and they’d say the same thing. Ask anybody that you’ve saved . ”

Izuku sniffled again. Ochako’s words held enough confidence for both of them. He almost started to believe her. “ Ochako …”

“ Why don’t you just see how he acts? ” She suggested. “ Like you said, you aren’t a hundred percent sure that he knows, so just go over there and act normal. See if he brings it up .”

Izuku hesitated. “And if he does?”

“ Well. ” Ochako said. “ There’s no more hiding from him, is there? ”

It was a terrifying thought. 

“Yeah.”

“ Who knows! ” Ochako’s voice perked up. “ Maybe he’ll help you out on missions like me! Wouldn’t that be fun? He could train you on hand to hand combat! You’ll be like Yagi Toshinori and Shimura Nana! ”

Izuku let out a watery laugh. “I don’t think we would be sidekicks, Ochako.”

“ But still! ”

The excitement in her voice was enough to momentarily snap him out of his self pity. Izuku picked up the phone from beside him, cradling it to his chest. Like he could maybe hug her through the call like this. 

“Thank you.” Izuku put as much genuineness behind his voice as he could. “You’ve been a really big help. I really appreciate you, you know that right?”

“ Of course, ‘Zuku. ” Ochako said softly. “ And it’s been an honor being able to help you, even though I don’t really do much. ” Izuku wanted to correct her, to tell her that she was the biggest help any hero could ask for, but at the next second she was already ushering him off. “ Now go and face your fears! Can’t be more scary than those three villains, right? ”

Izuku didn’t really know about that. “Right,” he said, nevertheless.

When the call finally clicked off, Izuku sunk further into his mattress. Ochako was right. There was no escaping from it now. He lifted his head and glanced at the door of his bedroom. A pot of soup was waiting for him downstairs. He’s kept his mom waiting long enough.

With one last, fortifying sigh, Izuku hauled himself off the bed and trudged downstairs.

Better now than never.

Fifteen minutes later, Izuku found himself holding his breath as he rapped his knuckles against the Bakugous’ front door.

He shuffled his grip on the pot braced against the corner of his hip, still warm to the touch. His spider senses could already pick up movement from just behind the door, some shuffling where Izuku knew the Bakugous’ kitchen was. He averted his eyes from the intimidating oak as he waited for a response. White magnolias framed the edges of their lawn. The flowers seemed to be growing in bushels now, along with some other vividly-colored counterparts that Izuku didn’t recognize. Uncle Masaru must be expanding his collection of flora. Their front garden was by far the most well-tended in their neighborhood.

The shuffle of footsteps sounded closer now. A muffled cry of something along the lines of ‘ just a minute ’ filtered through the door. Izuku shifted on his feet.

His mom had fixed a steadying hand on his shoulder before he left. For a moment, Izuku thought maybe she knew that something was wrong between him and Katsuki. But at the reassuring look he found on her face, he figured that she just thought he was still shaken from the kidnapping. Which, in a way, he was . It was ridiculous how his life just became more and more messy with every passing day. There wasn’t even time to properly wrap his head around the kidnapping before another situation came to light.

When the door finally opened, Izuku found himself standing face to face with Aunt Mitsuki, an oven mitt still enclosed over one hand and a brilliant smile stretched across her unaging features. With the opened door came a waft of something sweet. 

Izuku plastered on a smile. “Hi Aunt Mitsuki!”

“Oh, Izuku!” She beamed at him, automatically pulling him into a one-armed hug like it was reflex. “What a nice surprise!”

Izuku returned the embrace just as fiercely, careful to angle his body away so the pot still braced against his hip wasn’t jostled. When she finally let him go, he held it outstretched in his hands.

“Mom told me to send this over.” Izuku said. “It’s a pot of seafood stew.”

“How nice of her!” She accepted it with a coo and a light pinch to Izuku’s cheek. With a graceful swivel, she turned and held the door open wider, beckoning him inside. “Come in, come in! I just baked a tray of cookies, let me send some home with you.”

Izuku knew there wasn’t a single chance that he was going to be leaving here empty-handed. He smiled as she ushered him into their open kitchen. The smell of sweetness was stronger now. Even without looking, Izuku knew that she was making her famous double-chocolate cookies. God knew how many of those he inhaled whenever he came over to Katsuki’s house to play when they were younger, especially over the summer. He saw her bent over the kitchen counter now, sweeping in those small brown medallions into a plastic container.

Izuku stood across from her, watching her quick movements. She was humming under her breath. The kitchen was still slightly warm from the heat of the oven, made warmer from the sunlight pouring in from the western windows. Even under the smell of cookies, Izuku could pick up the scent that he would always find sticking to Katsuki’s clothes. Like their specific brand of laundry detergent and cinnamon. Warm and nostalgic.

Thinking about the blond only reminded Izuku of the pit in his stomach, steadily growing by the second. He looked around, into the hallway and past the dining table. There was no sign of Katsuki, not even a single rustle or sound that could hint of another presence in the house. 

Izuku looked back at Aunt Mitsuki. “How’s Kacchan, Auntie?”

She hummed. “He’s okay. None of his injuries were serious, but I’m sure you already know that.” Then, with a beam, she lifted her head and looked behind her, towards a door just past the hallway. “He’s in his room right now, actually! Let me call him out for you!”

Izuku blanched. “No, Auntie, I don’t think—”

It was too late. She was already pulling off her oven mitt and dusting her hands together, taking a deep breath that would always come before the bellow.

“Hey brat!” She yelled. “Izuku is here to see you!”

There was silence. Izuku shifted on his feet, not knowing whether to make up an excuse and bolt, or to stay. He tried to snap himself out of his worries. This was what he came here for, wasn’t it? To talk to Katsuki. To straighten things out. Izuku still couldn't help but hold his breath as he kept his eye on Katsuki’s bedroom door. 

“Where is that brat?” Aunt Mitsuki muttered, snapping the lid of the plastic container full of cookies shut.

“I think he’s on his way out.” Another voice came from further down the hallway. Izuku heard a knock on Katsuki’s door. “Katsuki, Izuku’s here to see you!” A pair of footsteps approached them. Uncle Masaru appeared around the corner, flashing Izuku one of his gentle smiles. “Hi, Izuku!”

Izuku beamed. “Hi Uncle Masaru!”

The man crossed over the kitchen, pulling open the fridge to grab a jug of water.

“What a day yesterday, huh?” He said as he poured himself a glass. “I’m glad none of you kids got seriously hurt.”

“All thanks to that Spiderman.” Aunt Mitsuki said. For a moment, her face folded into an expression of worry, as if she was reliving the events of yesterday all over again. “I wish there was a way we could tell him how grateful we are.”

Uncle Masaru came up behind her, placing a placating hand on her shoulder. Aunt Mitsuki smiled at him, giving his palm an amiable pat. For a moment, Izuku felt out of place. Like he was imposing himself on a display of sadness that he wasn’t supposed to be witnessing. But a small feeling of warmth flooded over him nonetheless. This was why he did what he did, wasn’t it? To save the ones he loved. To fight for people who couldn’t fight themselves.

“I’m sure he knows.” Izuku said timidly. “It’s what he does, after all.”

Aunt Mitsuki smiled, reaching over the counter to mess her hand through his curls.

“You’re a good kid, Izuku.” She let him go after one last pinch to the cheek. “If only Katsuki could learn a thing or two from you.”

Izuku rubbed at his face with a sheepish smile. “Kacchan’s nice.”

Aunt Mitsuki laughed. “He’s got you brainwashed, kid.”` She pushed the container of cookies his way. There must be more than a dozen in there. “There you go. Now tell your mom that we said thank you, alright?”

“Thanks, Aunt Mitsuki.” Izuku said.

“No problem at all, kid.” She dusted her hands against her apron. “Masaru and I have to take the car to get it fixed. Again . We’ll leave you both once Katsuki decides to grace us with his presence.”

Uncle Masaru cringed, smiling sheepishly. “I said I was sorry, honey.”

“The way he was driving to the construction site was a crime in itself.” Aunt Mitsuki tugged the apron off and smacked him playfully on the shoulder. Then, after she hung it up on a peg next to the fridge, she turned back to Izuku, her face suddenly serious and genuine. She leaned against the counter across from him and smiled gently. “Now Izuku, I think I have to warn you that Katsuki’s been in a little bit of a mood since what happened yesterday.”

In a mood? Izuku felt his throat dry up. “Really?”

Uncle Masaru came to stand beside her, his face just as placating. “We figured he’s just shocked, but he hasn’t left his room since we got back from the hospital.” 

Izuku must be showing some sort of distress on his face, because immediately Aunt Mitsuki outstretched a hand across the counter, placing it over Izuku’s.

“If anybody can cheer him up, it would be you, right?” She gave him a reassuring pat.  “But don’t feel bummed out if he seems a bit out of it. It’s not your fault.”

Isn’t it? Izuku thought despairingly to himself. If only they knew.

For a moment, the kitchen was quiet as they all watched Katsuki’s door, still silent and unopened. Izuku looked down at his feet uneasily. The blond knew he was here, both Aunt Mitsuku and Uncle Masaru made that clear enough. So was he avoiding him, then? Was it just as he expected? Did Katsuki know ? Or was Izuku looking too much into it? Izuku stared at the door, awkwardly clutching the container of cookies close to his chest. Suddenly, he felt unwelcome. Katsuki never took this long to come out to see him. And he never wasted an opportunity to yell at his parents every time they told him to hurry.

Izuku tried to quell his negative thoughts. Maybe he was just asleep. Maybe he hadn’t heard them. He liked to have his headphones on, after all. 

He fiddled with his shirt. 

Katsuki was in a bad mood. Katsuki hasn’t left his room since the hospital . How much more withdrawn than normal could he be if even his parents could sense his distraught? Izuku couldn’t tamp down the thought that this swill of silence was a perfect opportunity to escape.

Aunt Mitsuki clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, pushing off of the counter to presumably knock on Katsuki’s door. “Where is that boy?”

Izuku grimaced. “Y’know what, I think I might actually go—”

Unfortunately for him, Katsuki chose that exact moment to make his entrance, sauntering out of his room with all the air of indifference that one could muster in a walk. He was still in his sleep clothes, spiky hair slightly rumpled like he had been laying down. He was barely in the kitchen, standing in that awkward space between the hallway and the dining table, pointedly looking down at the floor with a hand running through his mussed hair.

This was not how Katsuki would normally greet him. This was not their normal.

Izuku felt his stomach plummet.

“There he is!” Aunt Mitsuki exclaimed, crossing the kitchen to pat her son’s shoulder on her way to grab her car keys, more gentle than their usual rough interactions. She flashed Izuku a smile. “Now Izuku, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Uncle Masaru followed behind her, both of them tugging on their shoes near the front door. “There’s mapo tofu in the fridge if you boys get hungry.” 

“Thanks, Uncle.” Izuku mustered up a relatively cheerful tone.

At the sound of his voice, Katsuki lifted his head momentarily, as if chancing a look. Izuku could sense a sliver of hesitation in that one action alone. For a moment, their gazes caught and held. Katsuki’s red eyes looked almost nervous, if only for a second, before he caught sight of Izuku and his gaze hardened into something cold. He quickly averted his eyes again, looking down at his feet. 

Izuku heard the jingle of keys as Aunt Mitsuki and Uncle Masaru prepared to make their exit.

He almost wanted to beg them to stay home.

“Alright boys, we’ll be back soon.” Aunt Mitsuki called out one last time. “See you later!”

The door clicked shut behind them.

Izuku remained where he stood, looking timidly at Katsuki, who might as well be a statue. The lines of his shoulders were rigid, still staring at the ground in front of him. Izuku desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. There was obviously something wrong here, but he had no idea if Katsuki had reached the conclusion he feared. And if he had, why not just get this over with? The blond was always the confrontational sort, after all. A screaming fit was what he expected. What he deserved , even. Izuku felt like a misbehaving child waiting for his mother’s scorn.

Moments passed. Katsuki still made no move to cross the threshold between them.

The silence was unbearable.

Izuku cleared his throat. “How—How’s your arm?”

Katsuki seemed to jump at the sudden sound, raising an absent hand to run his fingers down his elbow. “Fine.” His voice came out colder than Izuku expected it to.

Izuku wanted to feel relieved, but the growing sense of dread made it difficult to make room for anything else.

“Did you… get any of my texts?”

Katsuki turned his head away, towards the window. “Villains took my phone. Never gave it back.”

Izuku nodded, frowning. “Oh.” 

Katsuki clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and emitted a small sigh. And then, silence again. Izuku didn’t know what to make of this situation. Was this some sort of trick? Some kind of reverse-psychology where the silence would make Izuku want to confess? Was he trying to bait the confession out of him? Clearly, Katsuki was upset at Izuku about something . He didn’t know what else it could be if not the whole Spiderman business. But Izuku wasn’t going to dig himself into a deeper hole than he already was in. Why would he confess if Katsuki made no indication that he knew?

Still, the guilt was eating him up alive.

Izuku let out a breath. “Kacchan—”

“Did you take notes for algebra yesterday or did you skip it?” Katsuki cut him off.

Izuku blinked. “Huh?”

“ Algebra notes .” Katsuki hissed, tapping his foot impatiently against the tiles. “D’you have it or not?”

“Oh.” Izuku stammered. “Uh, yeah, I do, I could—” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “I could run back home and grab it for you, if you want?”

Katsuki shook his head. 

“Just email them to me.” He muttered, turning around towards the direction of his room. “Goin’ back to sleep.”

Izuku blinked.

That was it?

That was it ?

Izuku couldn’t help but extend a hand in his direction as he started to walk away. They were too far apart, and his fingers caught nothing but air. He bit his bottom lip. Should he just let this go? He should be grateful that Katsuki didn’t want to talk about anything else, shouldn’t he? It was like he said to Ochako. He wasn’t going to bring it up if Katsuki didn’t do it first.

But seeing Katsuki like this, the broad plane of his back instead of his face, hurt more than he ever thought it would. The dismissal. The silent treatment. He almost felt like he would prefer being yelled at instead of whatever this was. But there was just enough fear of what was to come that he couldn’t bring himself to confess.

“Wait, Kacchan!” Izuku said, at the last moment, when Katsuki began to open his door.  “You don’t—” Izuku stammered as the blond leveled him with an unimpressed look. “You don't want to… talk? About anything?”

“No.” Katsuki said brusquely, like he was spitting the word out instead of saying it. Then, he lifted his gaze, fixing Izuku with a challenging glare. At whatever expression he found, the blond seemed to soften, his eyebrows furrowing as if in doubt. “You got something to say?”

Izuku couldn’t tell whether or not this was a test. He opened his mouth, trying to dredge up something, anything , in the face of this sudden opening. This was the chance he had been looking for. This was it . But every word that tried to claw up his throat was just pushed back down with nerves. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. It felt like trying to shoot himself in the foot. Like digging his own grave. His body simply didn’t allow himself to do it.

Izuku closed his eyes against the disappointment bubbling in his chest.

“No.” He said meekly.

Katsuki’s face closed off again.

“Good.” He blew out a breath, already turning away, shoulders slumped. “I’m fuckin’ tired.”

“Okay.” Izuku called out after him. “Just tell me if you need anything else—”

The door clicked shut behind him. Not a slam. Not even a rattling in the doorframe. The quietest of dismissals. Izuku found himself alone in the kitchen, staring at where Katsuki once stood. He was supposed to be relieved, right? The blond didn’t bring up anything, so he should safely assume that he didn’t suspect anything. But there was something about the look on his face, the lack of anything behind his words…

What the hell was he supposed to make of that ?

Izuku fell forward until he was leaning against the kitchen counter, burying his head in his hands.

He was a coward. A goddamn coward .

Bakugou Katsuki was not an idiot.

Contrary to popular belief, he had some level of intuition for sensing emotions. For detecting lies and awkwardness and secrets. For shifts in relationships. He saw it build, gradually, in these past few months with him and Izuku. For a moment, that feeling of discomfort was largely overshadowed by something else entirely. Something warm and fluttering and bright. The way that sunlight falling across Izuku’s face suddenly became more interesting to look at. It had been a distraction, making him look away from his shifty glances, the guilt that became more and more evident on his face. The withdrawal.

And he should’ve seen it coming from a mile away, because Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t much of anything if he wasn’t smart and cunning. The way Izuku’s injuries seemed to materialize out of nowhere, only to be gone in the next few days. His unexplained absences. His shift in appearances. 

Bakugou Katsuki was not an idiot.

But right now, he was feeling the most stupid he’s ever felt in his entire life.

When Katsuki saw the blood seeping from Izuku’s sleeve the previous day, it felt like something cracked open within him. Months worth of doubts and suspicions, suddenly flooding him all at once despite his attempts of pushing them away. His mind had yanked him back so vividly to that moment on the rooftop with Spiderman, wrapping his handkerchief — his handkerchief! — around the hero’s wrist. He spent the entire rest of the day trying to convince himself that it was just some absurd coincidence. That Izuku was prone to so many odd injuries lately, so this could just be another one to add to the tally. Because Izuku could never keep such a big secret from him, right? Izuku would tell him . But the way Izuku looked at him when Katsuki jolted away— the stricken, almost horrified look…

Katsuki shook his head to clear himself of the image. It was burned into the back of his brain.

And the idea of Izuku being Spiderman had seemed so outlandish at first, like believing his dad was Santa Claus or that the tooth fairy was real. He wasn’t five years old anymore. He no longer believed that a person could become a hero from hope and ambition alone, could just magically gain superpowers when you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and called it a cape. He wasn’t so separated from reality to think that a nerdy, timid, freckle-faced dork could ever be…

Katsuki couldn’t even say it.

So he did what he would always do when words would fall short: he acted .

Immediately as he got home from the hospital, he opened up his laptop and saw how much research he could do. He pulled up articles, Youtube videos, interviews, social media posts, anything and everything about who Spiderman was and what he has been up to for the past few months. Katsuki took notes of the days where he personally encountered Spiderman and found footage especially during those times. He jotted down the hero’s injuries and tried to remember if he ever recalled seeing them on Izuku, if the freckled boy had an alibi, if anything seemed to converge.

He had been glued to his screen for so long that it was difficult to imagine that he was just strapped to an exploding building a handful of hours before. It was the shock and adrenaline driving him forward, well into the early morning when the sun began to come up. With an irritating, ironic thought, he looked down at his mess of notes, at the soft light starting to filter into his room, and was reminded of Izuku . The way his handwriting looked, messy up close but rigid and straight from afar. He had flashes of their younger selves, with Katsuki on the jujutsu training mats and Izuku on the sidelines watching him, scribbling furiously into his notebook. Oftentimes he would catch himself staring at the freckled boy, a burning feeling in his chest, before his sensei had to smack him upside the head and tell him to focus.

And it was still warm , the feeling he had when he thought of Izuku. Still just as potent yet confusing, if not tinged with something a little bitter now. That bitterness, Katsuki grew to realize as the sun came up, was actually hurt . Hurt that he had not been privy to this secret. Hurt that maybe Izuku hadn’t trusted him enough with his identity. And of course Katsuki wasn’t completely biased to these thoughts. Of course he could still factor in the possibility that maybe Izuku had a reason to keep him in the dark, something for his own good. But with the amount of times Katsuki has met Spiderman in real life, it almost felt like a taunt. Like Spiderman — if Izuku was Spiderman, that is— was purposefully showing up in his life just to get a reaction out of him. Like wagging a treat in front of a dog and snatching it away at the last moment. Katsuki felt… tricked. 

Because he would be lying if he said that he didn’t start developing warm feelings towards Spiderman, too. It was the way he said certain things, the way he acted and carried himself and seemed doubly-worried about everything concerning Katsuki. The way his touches lingered sometimes, the fluidity of his movements, the way his warmth felt familiar yet foreign. In hindsight, maybe some of those qualities should have reminded him of a certain someone. But that was absurd, right? Spiderman was just a nameless hero. For a moment Katsuki felt just like any other fanboy he liked to make fun of. And it had been awful , because a part of him felt like he was betraying Izuku for feeling that way, even though Katsuki didn’t really understand what that meant. And if those two people —the only two people Katsuki ever felt warmly about— ended up being the same person?

Well, then he was double-fucked , wasn’t he?

But if it was a game Izuku wanted, it was a game he was going to get.

Katsuki fell asleep on his desk with that thought in mind, challenging and almost vengeful, gently wishing that everything could be back to the way it was before. Before they grew up. Before Katsuki ever questioned if Izuku’s words could be lies.

When he heard his mom announce that Izuku came over, he had just woken up from sleep and was again in the midst of his investigation.

Before Katsuki went into the kitchen, he thought he was going to say something about Spiderman. To hint that he knew, maybe. Well, maybe knew was a strong word. Suspected . But the way the freckled boy was acting the moment he saw him; the way he seemed to freeze like his nerves had been set alight, the nervous jumps of his voice, the way he interacted with Katsuki like he was made of glass. It irked him. There was something in the air that was unsaid, that he knew the both of them sensed: Who’s going to say it first? And if there was anything that Katsuki enjoyed in life, it was a challenge.

And then there was that last question.

You don’t want to talk? About anything?

Katsuki almost wanted to laugh. Izuku was trying to make him do the dirty work. To be the one to address the elephant in the room. Like fuck that was going to happen. He wasn’t going to let Izuku get away with this so easily. 

It was then he decided once and for all: He wasn’t going to ask Izuku if he was Spiderman. 

Partly because it was too easy of a cop-out on Izuku’s part, but also partly because there was still that aforementioned lingering sense of disbelief, like shock that was taking its time to settle. And he would never forgive himself if he were to accuse him and get it wrong. So Katsuki simply wasn’t going to risk it. It was such a huge accusation, after all, and so outrageous of an idea that a lie would be too easily given. God knew that Izuku was very fluent in lies these days, if Katsuki’s suspicions were true. He had no idea if Izuku would tell the truth, even when he asked outright. Katsuki wasn’t going to leave it up to chance anymore. He was going to catch him red-handed, or force the confession out of him, once and for all. He wanted to hear it in Izuku’s own words.

When Katsuki stomped back in his room after their sad little exchange, he waited until he could hear the front door open and close again, signaling that Izuku had left. It took a while. Katsuki could just imagine Izuku’s sad little face staring down the kitchen counter as he lingered, maybe looking at Katsuki’s door like he was contemplating on knocking. After that thought crossed him, a part of him wanted to come back out. Wanted to hash this out once and for all. But no. He had to stand his ground. Enough was enough .

Katsuki slumped back against his chair, staring at the brightly-lit article on his laptop screen, his rage and bravado slowly sputtering out. He raised a hand and rubbed it across his face. That red-hot anger was leaving him, and something else settled in its place. Something heavier, and much less enjoyable.

A part of him still refused to believe that Izuku had been keeping such a huge secret from him. A part of him wanted to believe it wasn’t true. And right now, Katsuki didn’t know which of his instincts reigned supreme: the logical, tactical side, backed by research and proof, or the side that Izuku has always taken over. The side he seemed to favor a lot more these days.

Katsuki looked down at the notes he had been taking yesterday. It was a numbered list of all the times that he began to doubt Izuku, where he saw odd patterns in his behavior. There were only three major things so far that stood out amongst the more vague discrepancies.

• Deku’s palm scratches after Shibuya. Saw them when he came to my match.

This was an easy point to remember. He could still recall seeing those scrapes and questioning them. Izuku had said that he had fallen over while he was getting to the tournament, or something along those lines. When Katsuki searched for the Shibuya incident footage, he saw that Spiderman’s suit had been torn around the hand area. There weren't many videos that showed his palms, and even the ones among those were blurry, so Katsuki couldn’t know for sure. 

• Deku getting stronger.

Katsuki still couldn’t shake the dissonance of losing a sparring match with Izuku. He overpowered him so easily, as if in one burst of strength, almost like he was keeping it under wraps at one moment and pulled it out at the next. Like it was a switch he could flip. He would also be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the physical differences, too. The way Izuku was much leaner than before. Toned. Definitely no longer soft around the edges. Which Katsuki couldn’t really understand, because he knew for a fact that Izuku didn’t do any sports outside of the health classes required at school. What was it Izuku had said when they sparred? That he had been working out? Katsuki scoffed. No way in hell . But he saw the damn nerd’s abs when his shirt rode up in their fight. His fucking face when he smiled slyly. You don’t know everything about me, Kacchan. I can keep secrets too.

Katsuki felt his face heat up, quickly flipping over to the next page in his notebook.

• Shutting everyone out for that one week.

Izuku’s concerning depressive episode was all their friends could talk about when it was happening. They were all equally concerned and curious. Izuku was usually so cheerful, after all, and he took his studies the most seriously out of all of them. To shut everything out to the point of missing school? To the point of not answering Katsuki’s texts? It was simply unheard of. Admittedly, he did a little digging during that time in an attempt to find out what was bothering Izuku. He even asked his parents if they knew if anything was up with Auntie Inko, to which they replied that everything was fine to their knowledge. Everything was great , even, because she was getting promotions at work. Nothing significant was happening, either. No exams, no friendship drama, no tragic news about any of Izuku’s celebrity idols. The freckled boy could get very upset about his favorite actors.

When Katsuki spent the last night searching up each calendar date of Izuku’s depressive episode, hoping to find something newsworthy, only one resounding event stood out: the death of that woman that Spiderman failed to save. If Katsuki was being honest, he didn’t really know the details behind that incident, only snippets of somber whispers from Kaminari and Kirishima. As he stared at his laptop screen that previous night, poring over the slanderous articles and interviews alike, his blood started to boil. Maybe it was because he was starting to see Izuku and Spiderman as the same person, but the urge to reach through his screen and sucker punch the douchebag talking shit about the hero was almost frightening .

It would make complete sense for Izuku to feel upset during that week. If Katsuki knew anything about him, he would absolutely be blaming himself for her death. Izuku’s thoughts were already leaning towards the negative side when it came to opinions about himself. He’s never had the highest self-esteem. So for him to be surrounded by all this shit, stewing in it for weeks? Katsuki couldn’t even imagine it. He felt fucking awful about not doing more to help him, even if he didn’t know what he was moping about. He should’ve done more. Done better .

Katsuki sighed as he pushed the notebook aside. There was a knot in his chest whenever he thought about Izuku having to go through this alone. Maybe it didn’t help either that Katsuki was giving him the cold shoulder right now, but he felt like he was owed a little bit of a tantrum. 

He switched to another tab that he had been looking at last night. It was a Twitter webpage. He had made an account just so he could scour whatever spidey content he could find on that godforsaken app Kaminari called home. Katsuki knew just from his proximity with the blond that the freshest, most obscure content could be found on that app. Sightings, pictures, videos, detailed accounts albeit more on the crazed side. He was scrolling through all the posts made about Spiderman during the time the Shibuya incident took place. Katsuki figured that since he had the most information and memory of that date, he might as well put his efforts into researching it. Maybe he could find a time where Spiderman slipped up. A skewed mask, or some other sort of tell.

But everything was the same. Blurry shot after blurry shot of Spiderman swinging overhead, or videos of explosions taken from afar. He was just about to call it quits and find another course of action when a picture loaded. He stopped his aggravated scrolling when he noticed that the background was different to all the others, not of crumbled buildings or smoking pavements. No, this was of Spiderman swinging between lamp posts, some residential buildings behind him. He had an arm extended to anchor his web, one of his legs shot out as the other was curled, as if he was mid-jump. But that wasn’t what caught Katsuki’s eye. It was Spiderman’s mask, half-curled up to his nose, exposing his chin and a little bit of his jaw. In his mouth, held between his teeth, was a bottle of pocari.

Pocari .

Immediately, his brain flashed back. To Izuku running down the stadium steps to get to him, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. To Katsuki’s own choppy breaths, his nerves making it feel like he couldn’t even see straight. To callous hands handing him a bottle right before it was his turn on the mat. To a gentle smile he knew all too well. Katsuki’s eyes widened, gawking at his screen. The damn nerd had remembered to get him a drink before he got to the tournament. Even when he was running late. Even with all that was happening with Shibuya. Even when Katsuki told him not to. Of course, he remembered .

Here, will this help?

Katsuki checked the date again and again just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating it. The date of his tournament. The date he’s seen a million times circled on his calendar, the date he had been both dreading and anticipating for months. He practically had it burned into his mind. Katsuki quickly skimmed over the caption accompanying the picture:

[spideywatch3872]

can’t believe how lucky i was to catch spidey in my neighborhood!!! the corner shop auntie said he was grabbing a drink and she gave it to him for free!! even heroes get thirsty i guess!!

Katsuki clicked through the replies, trying to see if he could get any more information.

[spideygalz]

AHHHHHH!! you’re so lucky!!!!

[shou_8398]

OMG WHY DOES HE LOOK HANDSOME LMAO

[star_nuggets_28]

why does this kinda look like it could be a pocari ad???

[koraxvi]

i know we can literally only see like 2% of his face but OMGGGG

Every other reply essentially said the same thing. Katsuki rubbed a hand over his face, leaning far too close to the laptop screen to be any good for his eyes. A part of him didn’t want to even digest this information, but it couldn’t just be a coincidence, right? This was as good a proof as any . If only he knew where exactly this picture was taken, then maybe he could see if it was somewhere near the stadium. But what was he going to do anyway? Shove this tweet in Izuku’s face and tell him to explain?

No, this new information was solely for himself. It gave him the drive to pursue his investigation. Gave him confidence that he wasn’t going insane.

Katsuki heard his laptop ping, a banner coming up on the side of his screen signaling that he had just received an email. He clicked on it, the screen bringing him to his inbox. It was from Izuku, just as promised, of the algebra notes. There was a piece of text accompanying it:

hey kacchan!!!

here’s the notes i took. sorry my handwriting is really bad. if you can’t read any of the words, just email me i’ll tell you what it is! also i hope you’re feeling better! i’m sorry if i was bothering you today by coming over, i know you probably need the rest. let me know if there’s anything else i can do to help!!! i really care about you a lot, kacchan. i hope i’ll get to see you again soon.

Katsuki stared at the text. And then stared again. A sigh escaped between gritted teeth as his cursor hovered over the reply button. But what was he going to say? All he could think of was the possibility of Izuku being Spiderman. All of those encounters, the times that he would have saved his life. And Katsuki remembered each and every one of those times, of course. Remembered how awful he acted in return. There was still that sense of bitterness there, of sour secrets and debts left unthanked. How could he just pretend that everything was okay?

He buried his head into his hands, reading the lines over and over again.

I really care about you a lot, Kacchan.

He couldn’t bring himself to respond.

Monday rolled back around, and Katsuki almost found himself dreading going back to school. He hadn’t seen Izuku since he came over to drop off food.

After quick deliberation, Katsuki decided that he was still going to honor their tradition of walking to school together. Partly because he knew how much it meant to Izuku, and he wasn’t a complete monster that he had to enact some kind of petty revenge, and partly because he needed it to seem like he was completely and blissfully unaware of the tension between them. Like nothing was wrong, and Katsuki wasn’t trying to uncover his best friend’s secret hero identity. It was going to be difficult, but he was going to try his best. He almost regretted the way he acted when Izuku came over, all glum and irritated, because now Izuku knew that something was up. But Katsuki was pissed. Still was pissed now, even. There was really no promising that he wasn’t going to give Izuku another cold shoulder.

He found himself standing outside the freckled boy’s apartment complex, signature orange headphones around his ears, music blaring loud enough that he knew anyone walking past him would be able to listen in. He didn’t have to wait as long as he usually would before he saw the front doors swing open, a bed-headed Izuku tumbling out into the pavement as if he was in a hurry. Katsuki scoffed. The boy must’ve thought that he might be able to catch Katsuki before he left his own house, to make sure that he didn’t avoid him, just as he did last time.

When Izuku finally caught sight of Katsuki leaning against the streetlight just outside the complex, his green eyes widened, almost hesitating to close the distance between them. Katsuki tugged his headphones off of his ears, looking at him pointedly. Izuku seemed to take that as much of an invitation as any, and plastered on a nervous smile before he walked up to him.

“Hey, Kacchan.”

Katsuki began walking, keeping his face flat. It was difficult to pretend he was exactly happy with Izuku. He didn’t think he could stomach that just yet, so neutral was just going to be good enough. “Why’re you so surprised to see me?”

Katsuki kept his eyes on the pavement in front of them, not even looking at Izuku as he fumbled for words.

“I…” He stammered. “I don’t know. I guess… I didn’t know if you were coming to school today.”

“I never miss school.”

“I guess not.” Izuku said, after a moment. “How are you feeling?”

Katsuki grunted. “Never fuckin’ better.”

“Kacchan.”

There was a tinge of exasperation in his tone, as if he deserved to be exasperated with Katsuki and not the other way around. But it must mean that Izuku thought that everything was fine, which was exactly what Katsuki needed. The only way he was going to catch Izuku red-handed is if he had his guard down. If he thought that Katsuki suspected nothing.

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

There was a moment of hesitation before Izuku pressed further. “Are you sure?”

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” Katsuki seethed. “I was fucking kidnapped and dropped ten storeys , all for the entire fucking nation to see.”

The words poured out of him before he had the chance to even think about them. His vicious tone sparked an almost perceptible crackle in the air, rife with animosity and tension. Katsuki took in a sharp breath, cursing at himself internally. He was never good at keeping his temper under control. Usually it was better when it concerned Izuku, but the freckled boy wasn’t exactly in his best graces right now. And what the fuck did Izuku expect him to say anyway? He hasn’t even thought about unpacking the damn incident because of all the time he dedicated to investigating Spiderman. It was all pushed aside, and Izuku’s prying was making it bubble to the surface. 

They walked in silence for a few stretching minutes as Katsuki regained his breath, the air between them stagnant once again.

“I…” Izuku’s voice trailed off. “I’m sorry.”

The words were small, but Katsuki felt the weight behind them. He’s been friends with Izuku for long enough to recognize the heavy tone of guilt. Katsuki forced himself to glance at him. Izuku had his head ducked, looking resolutely at the pace of his own shoes, the curls of his hair hiding his eyes. Katsuki was immediately seized with a pinching feeling in his chest. This was not how he spoke to Izuku. This was not how he wanted to act, how he wanted to make him feel. They were best friends. They were…

Katsuki cringed, the pinching feeling only growing worse. For a moment, he hoped that Izuku would look up, just so he could see that he regretted saying it, but the freckled boy was still adamantly staring down at his shoes. Katsuki blew out a breath.

He reached out a hand, hovering over Izuku’s shoulder, before he decided against it, his arm dropping back against his side. He made sure to keep his voice gentle when he said, “Forget it.”

The rest of the walk to school was rough. No words were exchanged the rest of the way there. Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to apologize, to soothe the tense air between them. The moment they got to homeroom, Izuku made a straight beeline to Ochako’s desk, not even glancing back at Katsuki. The blond maintained his straight face, plopping down onto his own desk and tugging his headphones back over his ears. He cranked his music up so high that he could feel his head pounding.

It felt weird bringing their fight to school, where everyone expected them to be joined at the hip. Fights always felt like it had no place here, like this was some sacred neutral ground where they always put aside their grievances. Because it wasn’t just Izuku-and-Katsuki, not like it was in the sanctity of their own neighborhood. It was Izuku, Katsuki, and all of their fucking nosy ass friends, who could never understand how Katsuki functioned the way he did and why Izuku tolerated him at all. And now, with Izuku acting glum and Katsuki acting pissed, he knew the conclusions they would come up with. That Katsuki had done or said something in some variation of awful. And he was just going to have to put up with all their questions for the rest of the day.

Katsuki blew out a long breath. This was not how he wanted this to go at all , but he should’ve known it would be harder than he expected to just pretend everything was normal. Not when Izuku meant so much to him.

He didn’t realize he had closed his eyes before he felt someone tap his shoulder. His eyes shot open, a part of him hoping that it was Izuku, so that they could straighten things out between them before class started, but he was only greeted with Kirishima’s dopey grin, pointing at his ears. Katsuki tugged his headphones off with a scowl.

“Wassup, Bakubro?” The redhead dragged a chair from a neighboring table and plopped himself on it. “You good? None of us really heard from you, but Izuku said you were okay?”

“I’m fuckin’ fine.” Katsuki grumbled. “And before you ask any questions, I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about it.”

Kirishima shrugged, but there was a hint of worry in his eyes. “Wasn’t gonna, dude.”

And then the redhead launched into some rendition or other of what their idiot friends had gotten up to at school the day Katsuki was taken, all the nitty gritty stuff like what they had for lunch, what the teachers taught. Katsuki half-zoned him out, propping his head up with his palm. This was what Kirishima always did. He could turn any nonsense into conversation topics. It was kind of soothing, at most times, because Katsuki knew the redhead only did it when he could sense that Katsuki didn’t want to talk. But right now he wanted to think , and this white noise of chatter wasn’t really helping him concentrate.

When Katsuki heard him approach the subject of Aizawa-sensei, who apparently dealt Izuku with detention, Katsuki perked up and stopped his idle drumming of fingers against the table. There was something he wanted to ask Kirishima about, he suddenly remembered. When the redhead stopped talking momentarily to catch his breath, Katsuki interrupted.

“When I was taken by those villains,” he said gruffly, like he didn’t care, “all you idiots said Deku ran out of school.”

Kirishima raised a brow at his sudden participation. “Yeah, why?”

“Where’d he go?”

“To the construction site, duh?” Kirishima laughed, like it was a silly question. “We wanted to go with him but the teachers held us back. Only he got through. Did you know he could run so fast?”

At the sign of Katsuki having nothing else to say, Kirishima barrelled on about a new video game he had bought over the weekend. Katsuki tuned him out once again. He knew about Izuku running off, and any idiot would have guessed where he was going. Hell, even when Katsuki was airborne, being swung across the city by Spiderman after the whole kidnapping debacle was over, he kept glancing down at the crowd to make sure Izuku wasn’t there. He would have told Spiderman to drop down and swing them both away if he had caught sight of him. And if it was true that the freckled boy had successfully made his way over to the construction site, Katsuki would have seen him. The fact that he didn’t only raised more suspicion.

There was the possibility that Izuku didn’t make it to the construction site, and that although he had run out of school, he may not have made it in time before Katsuki was saved. He entertained the thought of asking Izuku outright, just to see if there was an explanation behind it, or an excuse. He could claim that he was there and Katsuki could catch him in a lie. That would be more than enough to accuse him of being Spiderman, right? Why else would you lie about an alibi like that?

Just as he was thinking of stalking over to the other side of the room, where Izuku was still hunched over Ochako’s desk, the school bell rang and Aizawa’s head lifted from his desk like a reanimated zombie. Kirishima put the chair back from where he dragged it while Izuku plopped down on the desk behind Katsuki’s, avoiding eye contact the entire time. Katsuki grumbled under his breath. He’ll just have to wait, then.

The rest of the day proceeded as normal. Well, as normal as it could be. Katsuki was trying hard to be inconspicuous, but he would be lying if he said it felt the same as it always was. There was a certain tension in the air that stiffened the both of them. A certain understanding that this was, in fact, a masquerade. Izuku didn’t talk as much as he used to, and Katsuki gave even less responses than usual. It was awkward, and almost uncomfortable. If they hadn’t been friends for as long as they were, the silence between them would be mortifying.

Katsuki didn’t get the chance to talk to Izuku at lunch. The seats they usually assumed on the table mysteriously shifted so that he was at one end while Katsuki was at the other. The alleged reason behind that was because Izuku was helping Tsuyu with some last minute homework, but by the not-so-subtle worried glances that the freckled boy sometimes threw his way, Katsuki knew better. Izuku was avoiding him. Actually avoiding him. Katsuki silently wondered when the last time he was at the receiving end of this, and couldn’t bring a moment up.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that Izuku wasn’t avoiding him because he didn’t want to speak to Katsuki, but because he thought that Katsuki was mad at him. Which, in part, was true , but that was a fact that Katsuki was trying to hide. It was evident in the ways that Izuku’s furtive glances were more cautionary instead of sad, or disappointed, or anything along that vein. The way he seemed to try to listen in on Katsuki’s conversations with their other friends between classes to gauge his mood. Katsuki can’t help but think that these were the acts of someone who felt guilty . It was mostly made clear, though, when Mina jostled him on their way to their last class before the school day was over, her features pinched into that of disapproval.

“What’d ya say to Izuku, asshole?”

Katsuki glared at her, tugging his blazer back into place. “What the fuck do you mean, pinky?”

“I mean why’s he acting so jumpy?” Mina accused him with narrowed eyes. “And why’s he asking Kirishima if you seem like you’re in a bad mood?”

“The fuck?” Katsuki reeled. “ He was the one acting weird on the way to school.”

Which, he knew, was not really the truth. He did snap at Izuku, but there was no way to explain why there was so much tension between them without bringing up his whole investigation. Izuku wouldn’t have avoided him like he was doing now if it was just Katsuki being prickly. Hell, he snapped at everything all the time. Katsuki knew that he knew something was up. God , he hated that sentence. This was all just getting too fucking confusing .

Mina hummed, like she thought he was making up an excuse. “Really?”

“Do you see me acting any pissier than usual?” Katsuki lifted his brow. This, at least, was true. “I just figured he needed some space or something.”

Mina shrugged. “Izuku has been acting weird, ever since the, um—” she waved her hand around, “y’know.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I fuckin’ know.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just make up, will you?” Mina smacked him on the shoulder. “It’s disturbing seeing you two fight. It’s really creeping us all out.”

Katsuki bared his teeth. “Maybe if you all minded your own fuckin’ business then you won’t be so disturbed.”

“Ha ha.” Mina deadpanned, smacking him again. “Good one, blondie.”

When the school day finally ended, Katsuki found his gaze constantly drifting to Izuku as they made their way to the exit gates. The freckled boy was practically clinging on to Ochako, murmuring amongst themselves about something or other. Katsuki couldn’t read the expression on his face. Something caught between hesitance and apprehension. When they reached the crossroad just outside the school, Izuku glanced back at Katsuki, and for a moment their gazes held.

Katsuki looked away first, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. Izuku ducked his head and busied himself again with whatever Ochako was babbling into his ear. But neither of them made a move to continue walking. It was a Monday, after all. Mondays meant that Katsuki would spend the rest of the afternoon in his jujutsu lessons, and unless Izuku had told him the day before that he was preoccupied, then he would come with. The problem was that they haven’t exactly been talking , haven’t they? Katsuki had no idea whether Izuku even wanted to come with him today. But by the way Izuku was still stealing glances at him, as if waiting for something to be said, Katsuki sighed and made the first move.

After all, there was still one thing he wanted to test.

“Deku.” Katsuki said begrudgingly, after a moment.

Izuku perked up from Ochako’s side. “Yeah?”

Katsuki almost felt bad about the way the freckled boy’s eyes shone, as if in anticipation or hope. There was a small twinge of guilt in his chest. He tried to tamp it down.

Katsuki jerked his head to the side, where the pavement forked over to the left. “You comin’ or what?”

“To where?”

“Where the fuck else do I go on a Monday?” Katsuki muttered.

It took a moment for understanding to dawn on his features, but when it did, Izuku practically bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Okay!” He nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’ll go with you!”

After waving a quick goodbye to Ochako, they made their way to the training facility Katsuki usually frequented. The path there was so well-traveled in his mind that it was almost reflex for him to turn at certain junctions, to cross the road here and take the train there. It was the same for Izuku. This act of goodwill seemed to make him more comfortable around Katsuki. For a moment, the entire first half of their day felt like it never happened, and this was just another average Monday.

“What are you planning on focusing on today, Kacchan?” Izuku asked as they crossed the street. “Do you have any specific regiment in mind?”

“I don’t know.” Katsuki shrugged. “I guess I’ll just do what sensei tells me.”

Izuku hummed. “That makes sense.”

Katsuki gave him a sidelong glance. The freckled boy was actually smiling , a particular hop in his step as they walked the last leg of their journey. He had to look away before the guilt ate at his chest.

“You got something to do while you wait?” Katsuki asked.

“I’ll probably be working on the English essay.” Izuku replied. And then, he turned to grin at him. “And I’ll watch you, of course.”

Katsuki had to turn away at that. He could feel the tips of his ears getting warm, and it wasn’t from the coming summer heat. A sudden hesitation struck him. Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe he should leave this alone. Their friendship was just fine before Katsuki grew to be more and more curious about Spiderman’s true identity. Hell, if anything, it was the best it’s ever been . Did he really want to risk their friendship trying to dig into this? In truth, it didn’t matter so much if Izuku was Spiderman. Katsuki would have a lot of questions, sure , that much was a given. But it was the fact that he was lying . And Katsuki was just a stubborn asshole so wanted to prove himself right in the most asshole-y way possible. Was this all worth it?

Katsuki hated the silence between them more than he had expected. The previous few days felt so empty without Izuku by his side. It was even worse when he was right there and they couldn’t say a thing to each other. Couldn’t even look at each other. Wasn’t it necessary, then, for Katsuki to resolve this between them once and for all, since Izuku obviously was more than happy to just ignore everything? Wasn’t that truly why he was doing all this?

Izuku continued babbling on as if he hadn’t said anything at all. Katsuki gripped the strap of his backpack tighter. All the fight and anger he had in the previous few days were starting to leave him. 

But just enough was left over for him to try and solidify another one of his suspicions: Izuku’s strength.

Jujutsu training proceeded as normal. Katsuki pummeled some fellow students into the mat while Izuku watched intently. He was watching more than he was working on his essay, really. It felt good for Katsuki to release all this tension he had settling into his bones. He didn’t have to think when he was on the mats, succeeding one punch after another, twisting his body this way and that. At first, his sensei seemed confused to see him back in the training facility after the incident last week, but he should’ve known Katsuki wasn’t going to miss a day of practice. A part of him honestly thought he would go insane if he didn’t have this outlet. If those scummy villains had actually broken Katsuki’s arm, he was going to hunt them down and kill them himself.

Two hours passed, and before he knew it his sensei was patting him on the back for a job well done, debriefed simply on the points he should be working on, and at once everyone started packing up. He was told, once again, that he could stay as long as he liked, as long as he closed up properly. Perks of having a sensei who also owned the training facility.

He made his way over to Izuku, who tossed him a towel and a bottle of water. He muttered his thanks as he emptied half of it, his chest still rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

“A little too rough today, Kacchan.” Izuku teased, starting to back up his backpack himself. “I’m pretty sure those other guys walked away with bruises.”

Katsuki pulled the bottle from his mouth. “Where’re you goin’?”

Izuku stopped and blinked up at him. “Home?”

Katsuki rubbed the towel over his face before throwing it on the bench. It fell somewhere between the seats, but he didn’t break eye contact with Izuku. 

“We’re not going home yet.” Katsuki said. “Spar with me.”

“What?” 

“Spar.” He repeated. “You and me. Right now.”

Izuku gaped at him, his mouth opening and closing silently. Katsuki had no doubts that the memories of their previous sparring session was running through his mind right now. It had not ended prettily for either of them. 

“Kacchan…”

“What?” Katsuki raised a brow. “You scared?”

He felt like an asshole for constantly using the taunting tactic, but he knew that sometimes Izuku was just as competitive as he was.

Izuku closed his eyes momentarily. “You know I’m not.”

“So what’s the issue?”

Katsuki didn’t know what made him relent in the end. Maybe the guilt, feeling like he owed Katsuki at least this one thing. He could almost see it written across his face with the way his eyes dimmed, the way his brows furrowed like he didn’t know what to do.

“Okay.” Izuku sighed. “Just one round.”

Katsuki made his way over to the training mat first. All the staff and students were already trickling out, the last one or two of them packing up. When Izuku made his way over, they were the only people on the mats. It would have been completely silent if not for the whir of ventilation and air conditioning around them. Katsuki assumed the starting stance when Izuku stood across from him. The freckled boy mirrored it immediately, even though Katsuki could sense hesitance written over every pull of his muscle.

“One, two,” he counted down. “Three.”

Katsuki launched himself boldly across the mat.

Izuku seemed to expect this. He sidestepped just as Katsuki’s fist was about to connect along the line of his shoulder, his features open and almost focused as he evaded. Katsuki went after him again, this time with a swing of his foot, but Izuku easily avoided that, too. They were making quick paces around the mat. Katsuki constantly pushed forward, and Izuku stepped back. A hand blocked by an arm. A body twisting out of the way. Lenient and conceding. It was almost as if they were dancing, their movements swathed by fluorescent overhead lights. A give and a take.

Katsuki continued his attacks. On and on they went like this, losing track of time. His muscles were starting to burn with strain. Izuku merely stepped out of the way, his arms held up in front of him to block, but never making any other move. Katsuki’s breaths were starting to grow heavy. What was Izuku getting at? Was he trying to exhaust Katsuki, making him easier to take down later? Was this some sort of trap to maneuver him into some sort of optimum position? No, it can’t be. Even as Katsuki traced Izuku’s features, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of fight in his eyes. None of the energy that he saw in that sparring session from weeks ago. What was wrong with him?

Every single one of Izuku’s moves were apprehensive. Defensive instead of offensive. Where was the fighter that pinned him down all those weeks ago? In two swift moves or less? Katsuki couldn’t feel his presence here. It was as if he was fighting a completely different person. Someone who was knowledgeable enough to quickly perform evasive maneuvers, as if up against a child and afraid to hurt them. Poorly concealed skill.

Guilt. This was a fighter with a lot of guilt . Or something to hide.

“You’re holding back.” Katsuki snarled. “You think I can’t take it?”

Izuku winced. “Kacchan—”

“ Fight me .” Katsuki growled. “If you’re feeling so guilty for whatever reason then do what I ask you and fight !”

Something struck Izuku then, some word that Katsuki had said had successfully agitated him. There was still that hint of hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be doing this, before Izuku took two swift strides and arced a solid kick. It was weak, still unsure. Katsuki blocked it with his forearm easily. But what he conceded in ferocity he made up in speed. The strikes came one after the other. It was Katsuki’s turn to be pushed back, frantically trying to block every attack. Izuku wasn’t giving him time to recover, exhausting Katsuki without showing his true strength. He had to admit, it was a smart play, but it was obvious to anyone that Izuku’s stamina was different. Consistent and careful. Each of his strikes were of the same strength, the same push and countenance. He was like a machine. Katsuki had never fought anyone like this before. 

Where did all this skill come from? Surely not from training. And Katsuki of all people knew that simply watching someone fight wasn’t enough to learn all this. A heat burned in his chest, something bitter and sour. Jealousy , he realized, with a jolt. How come Izuku had all this talent when it was Katsuki who trained for this all his life? What made him so different ? 

Katsuki’s own pace was starting to give. He had not seen one of the punches coming. It landed solidly on his abdomen, and while his guard was off, a kick landed against his left hip. The force of the attacks weren’t enough to immobilize him, but it was plenty to knock the wind out of his lungs. He staggered back, half-expecting Izuku to grapple him and finish him off, but the freckled boy made no move to approach him.

“Is this what you want?” Izuku said. Katsuki couldn’t read the expression on his face. A bead of sweat was trailing down the curve of his jaw. He wasn’t even out of breath. Just one damn bead of sweat .

“You’re still holding back.” Katsuki panted, clutching his stomach, where the blow had landed. “What’s wrong? You think I can’t take it?”

Izuku frowned. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“ Hurt me?” Katsuki spat out a scoff, raising both hands again. “What, you think you’re better than me?”

Katsuki had regretted his words the moment it left his lips. Izuku’s expression dimmed. If Katsuki wasn’t so out of it, he would have thought he almost looked hurt. “Why are you doing this?”

Katsuki let out a groan of frustration. “Just fucking fight me dammit!”

The divot between Izuku’s eyebrows deepened. His body went rigid, as if the way he held himself suddenly changed. Somehow Katsuki knew that this was it. He had successfully riled Izuku up enough to find out the bounds of his capabilities. Before he had a chance to attack, Katsuki lunged forward first. A clumsy upward kick, the arc low and weak. The muscles of his abdomen still strained from Izuku’s previous blow. This time, Izuku did not simply dodge it. He caught Katsuki’s ankle in midair and twisted , the force of it enough to send Katsuki falling onto the mat. 

He picked himself up in time to avoid a strike to his middle, Izuku’s fist sailing past where Katsuki’s body once was. They were both on their feet again. He didn’t allow himself to regain his breath. Katsuki ducked low, his elbow aiming for Izuku’s side while the flat of his hand slammed against Izuku’s chest. The freckled boy caught both attacks, unfaltering, and used the momentum of Katsuki’s own force against him. He stumbled back, already seeing in his periphery that Izuku was launching another attack. The graceful line of his leg was raised, a neat and satisfying arc. All Katsuki had to do was step out of its radius.

There was a divot in the flooring, a crevice where two mats connected. As he stepped back, confident that he could avoid the blow, his heel caught between the gap. He felt his body careen forward in an attempt to catch his own weight.

The foot that was meant to connect against Katsuki’s arm landed on his face instead. More specifically, the devastating bridge of his nose. He felt the pain spark almost immediately, his vision momentarily going black as the sting of the blow resounded. The next thing he knew, he felt the mats against his back. He didn’t even realize that he had raised both hands to his face before he felt gentle hands trying to pry them away. There was a ringing in his ears.

When Katsuki finally managed to open his eyes, he saw red smeared over his fingertips. There was even a spray of crimson against the stark blue of the mats, gruesomely arranged, like someone had held up a paint brush and flicked over it like a canvas. He felt something warm drip down his upper lip. He blinked once, then twice. The fluorescent overhead lights suddenly seemed too bright to bear.

“Oh god.” Izuku gasped. He immediately fell down to his knees, reaching for Katsuki’s face. There was warmth cradling his cheeks, frantic hands brushing away his hair. “Oh god , Kacchan, I’m sorry! I’m so sor—”

“I’m fine .” Katsuki brushed him off roughly. “Fuck. Leave it .”

Izuku held onto his shoulders firmly. “You’re not! You’re bleeding!”

“You haven’t pinned me down!” Katsuki snarled stubbornly. “I haven’t lost!”

“It doesn’t matter ! This is insane , Kacchan!” Izuku yelled, his grip tightening momentarily. His green eyes bore into Katsuki’s, and there was something devastating there. “ Why are we beating each other up? What the hell is going on with you?”

Katsuki didn’t know where to look. Izuku’s gaze was too intense. There was a smear of his blood near the freckled boy’s jaw, where he must’ve absentmindedly touched his face after prying Katsuki’s hands away. 

Katsuki felt the moment his face started to become bare. The moment he felt the furrow of his eyebrows loosening, the scowl dropped to something slack-jawed, lips parting in speechlessness. This is insane. He agreed. His stomach churned with something sickening, something that made him question all the decisions he’s made. He felt weighed down with guilt . When did they become like this? Why did he let them come to this?

At Katsuki’s silence, Izuku’s eyes seemed to soften. There was an internal battle happening privately between the both of them, Katsuki knew. Neither one of them knew what to say. Izuku’s grip on his shoulder didn’t falter. For a moment, it was the only thing keeping Katsuki upright.

“I’ll ask you again.” Izuku murmured. “Is there something you want to ask me?”

The ringing in his ears stopped. Katsuki’s entire body went rigid.

He looked up at Izuku then, his lost gaze sharpening into one of disbelief.

Something in Katsuki’s resolve broke . The guilt and hesitance was gone instantaneously, swept away by a breaking dam of anger. How dare Izuku still ask him that? How dare, after all of this? After Katsuki made it so obvious that he was suspecting something? After everything he was put through because of Spiderman, he still wanted Katsuki to say it first? All he asked for was for Izuku to confess to it himself. That was truly all he wanted. Was it so difficult ?

Katsuki pushed him off, this time with meaning. Izuku actually let him go, allowing himself to be knocked backwards by the force. “ Fuck off. ”

Katsuki brought up his knees and buried his head in his hands, refusing to look up. His eyes were stinging. He wanted to believe it was from the dull throb of his nose and not the burning in his chest. He heard Izuku rise from the mat after an agonizing moment, the soft pads of his footsteps retreating to where he knew the benches were, followed by the rustling of his backpack. Katsuki hated this. He hated this. When did they lose the ability to communicate with each other? Why was he so stubborn ?

“I’m tired.” Izuku said coldly, somewhere off to the side. “I’m going home.”

“Go then.” Katsuki spat.

The shuffling stopped for a moment. The footsteps that were headed to the exit faltered. 

“Kacchan…” Izuku said, softly. So softly that Katsuki reflexively looked up. He already had his bag strapped to his back, shoes put back on. His face was contorted into something pained. “If you don’t actually want to spend time with me, then you don’t have to, okay?” His tone was resigned, as if he had already made peace with how volatile Katsuki was acting. “You don’t have to… do this .”

“ I don’t have to do this?” Katsuki barked through the crack in his voice. “When you’re the one actin’ all fuckin’ weird?”

Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck.” Katsuki blew out an incredulous breath, running a hand through his hair. “Are you fuckin’ serious ?”

“And what about you ?” Izuku stepped away from the exit. His tone was climbing. “Why am I even here ? I can tell you don’t even want to be around me.”

Katsuki staggered to his feet. “Because you’re acting like you’re walking on fuckin’ eggshells!”

A flash of something crossed Izuku’s face, but he concealed it quickly. “I’m not!”

“You can’t even fuckin’ look at me, Deku! This whole day you couldn’t even look at me !” Katsuki yelled, his voice breaking pathetically towards the end. “If everything’s just fuckin’ fine then why can’t you look at me?”

Izuku looked stricken, as if Katsuki had personally come up to him and punched him across the face. For a moment, the anger Izuku was building up faltered. Ironically, he averted his eyes, like it pained him to even look at Katsuki a second longer than he was supposed to. It hurt him more than he cared to admit. The burning in his chest was growing to a scalding heat. He knew Izuku wanted to say something. He saw it in the way his fists were curling against his sides, the way he was gnawing on his bottom lip. Say it . Katsuki pleaded silently. Please, god, say it .

But the silence stretched on, and still Izuku was looking down at his shoes. 

“Deku.” Katsuki said. Pleaded. His voice was cracking alongside his resolve. He placed a wavering, blood-tipped hand against his chest. “Izuku, look at me .”

Katsuki was tired. He was so, so tired.

Izuku glanced at him once, just for a split second that Katsuki almost missed it. His gaze had wavered to somewhere near the edge of Katsuki’s mouth. No doubt to where a smear of blood had trickled down his face. The freckled boy grimaced, his eyes almost wild, before he closed them and shook his head. Katsuki saw a shudder run through his body.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Izuku said, strained.

Katsuki felt numb. He sank back onto the mat as he heard the door open and close. Had he been wrong? Was Izuku not Spiderman? Was he being an asshole for no reason at all? But all his research, all those photos and videos… Had he just been stringing himself along? There was no way Izuku wouldn’t have confessed to it by now. Katsuki had practically cornered him, practically tried to force it out of him. And Izuku knew it too, asking that question again. There was confidence behind it. Either the confidence of a person who knew they had nothing to hide, or was already willing to give everything up. Which one was it?

Had he been wrong all this time?

And what if Katsuki had just answered that damn fucking question?

“Fuck.” Katsuki pulled at the ends of his hair. “ Fuck .”

Silence permeated the training facility. It felt almost eerie, the blanket of loneliness that draped over him now, only accentuated by the vastness of this space. One of the fluorescent lights flickered overhead. That one faulty bulb. He had asked the old man to replace it so many times.

Katsuki hauled himself up eventually, his body hurting in more places than one. His mind kept flashing back to that last pained expression Izuku had given him before he walked out. Was this worth it? Was it all worth it ? Was it too late to fix everything?

Katsuki let out a shuddering breath.

He had fucked up.

A few days spent keeping to himself lent Katsuki some clarity. In those few days, he didn’t speak to Izuku at all. Barely to any of their other friends, too. What was once playful concern on his classmates’ part turned serious. Kirishima and Mina in particular tried their best to coax something out of him, their approaches far more gentle than any of the previous ones they’ve attempted. They no longer asked about Izuku once Katsuki completely shut them out when they did. Somehow, they decided to chalk it up to some late shock-reaction from the kidnapping. This, at least, earned Katsuki some sympathy. He was left alone when asked, and he asked for it a lot.

The back and forth of this whole ordeal made Katsuki unsure of where he stood. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of his mind, he still believed in the possibility that Izuku was Spiderman. As much as he could believe with his weak resolve, at least. He wasn’t sure if he cared anymore. He wasn’t sure if Izuku would even still talk to him if he pried even further. And what if he was wrong? There was no excuse for the things he’d said, the things he’d done. He wouldn’t blame Izuku if he never wanted to speak to him again.

But whoever this Spiderman was, Katsuki thought he earned the right to know. It wasn’t like he was going to advertise his identity anyway once he found out. If he couldn’t get a confession out of Izuku, then maybe he could get one out of Spiderman. See if they were one and the same.

He had already sacrificed too much to get to this point. His relationship with Izuku, his time, his mental resolve. The least he could do was follow it through, without getting Izuku involved.

Katsuki had taken to online forums once again. In the first few days after the whole sparring incident, Spiderman was basically MIA. There were no reported sightings of him, not even pictures of him lounging on top of buildings or swinging through the city. It seemed that the suit hadn’t been donned since the kidnapping. Spiderman was known for his brief moments of hiatus, so it didn’t seem odd at all. On the third day, Katsuki found a tweet that said that Spiderman was spotted patrolling a neighborhood not far from theirs, a picture attached of him perching on a rooftop. He mulled over what to do with that information, but it didn’t take long for him to pull on his shoes and head towards the area.

Katsuki wasn’t an idiot. He knew that there was a slim to no chance that he would even be able to spot Spiderman with how fast his webs took him. By the time Katsuki would arrive at the neighborhood, he could be halfway across the city. But he had to take his chances, and it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. 

He got to the street where the picture was taken far too late. Of course, Spiderman wasn’t there anymore. It was already late into the afternoon, the sun steadily setting in the sky. What was left of Spiderman was a few misplaced tiles on the eaves. Katsuki decided to have a walk around the neighborhood. He was already there anyway, and what were the chances of Spiderman still being somewhere near?

He walked around aimlessly until he heard the whine of police sirens from a few streets over. They were coming this way, he could tell, and he backed up into the pavement just in time for two police cars to whiz past him in a blur of red and blue. Katsuki blinked after them dumbfoundedly for a moment, before he broke out into a run. This could be it , he thought. His legs burned as he tried to keep up just enough to know where they were turning.

Katsuki was right. It had been Spiderman. The police cars were parked at the mouth of an alley. Two of the officers were dragging someone in handcuffs, another two questioning an old lady with her hands clutched to her chest. When Izuku peered into the alley, he saw remnants of spider webs along the walls, stringy and shadowed with the dimming daylight, but there was nothing else there. Katsuki frantically looked up, past the rooftops of the low-storeyed houses, trying to catch even the barest glimpse of Spiderman against the setting sun. And then he saw him, merely a silhouette, launching himself from streetlight to streetlight until he was merely a speck in the distance. There and gone.

Katsuki decided to cut his losses there. It was a good effort, and maybe if he had been at the right place at the right time he would have caught him. There was always an opportunity to try again. He grumbled under his breath and yanked on his headphones, making his way back home.

Something caught his eye just as he left the neighborhood. He spotted a small restaurant lined up against the street, most likely family owned with the way it was shouldered by two houses on each side. Katsuki caught a glimpse of the menu. Plastered in large font was their tonkatsu special, accompanied with a huge, appetizing picture. Katsuki’s first instinct was to snap a picture and send it to Izuku, maybe suggesting that they could try the place out one day after school since it was so close to their neighborhood. He froze just as he was about to fish out his phone from his pocket. He couldn’t do that now, could he? Not after he had fucked up so badly. They weren’t even walking to school together anymore.

Katsuki stopped in his tracks.

He vowed that he wasn’t going to pry about Spiderman with Izuku again. He valued their friendship much more than trying to prove himself right. There was no way he was going to let a decade of friendship go down the drain just because of some stupid theory that he didn’t know was even true. And sure, he was still upset . He didn’t know what to do with all the information he had at hand, the nagging thoughts that told him that he must be right. 

Slowly, he pulled out his phone. His parents had gotten him a new one since the incident, and Kirishima had helped him get their friends’ contacts back. It had been mostly dry now that he wasn’t talking to Izuku, if not for the myriad of notifications he had set up for any mention of Spiderman on several social media platforms. He clicked on his messages, his thumb hovering over Izuku’s contact. 

Did he even deserve this? 

He typed up a message anyway before he could stop himself, and pressed send.

[KACCHAN]

can we talk?

That didn’t seem like nearly enough. Izuku hated confrontation. If he couldn’t tell that Katsuki wasn’t being volatile he might not even open the message at all.

[KACCHAN]

im really sorry for what i did. i didnt mean any of the things i said. you dont deserve to be treated like that. 

im really, really sorry, izuku. 

Katsuki blew out a breath, shoving his phone into his pocket as he continued his walk back home. Now he could only wait. At least he wasn’t being an asshole, for once, so that was an improvement, at least.

He spent the next two days doing the same thing. The second attempt at tracking Spiderman down ended basically just like the first one did. This time, the location was more towards the heart of the city. There hadn’t even been a crime to stop. Spiderman was just patrolling the area, swinging from tall buildings as the pedestrians below him ooh -ed and aah -ed. He was too out of reach for Katsuki to even attempt a confrontation, always perched somewhere high in the sky. He did manage to get a few pictures of him, though, but by the time he looked up from his phone to see if they were any good, the hero was already gone.

Katsuki was now on his third attempt. It was a Saturday, which usually meant that Spiderman sightings were much, much more saturated than usual weekdays. His phone kept pinging with updates from social media. One moment he was in some random neighborhood, then in office building clusters, then on several high streets. Katsuki would be on the train to one place and then have to switch lines to go to another. And then take the bus. And then he’d have to backtrack all the way to the start because the damned juvenile hero has decided to cross all the way to the other side of the city. Katsuki didn’t even want to check how much money he’s wasted on transport today.

By the time Spiderman was sticking to one specific location, the day was already ending. It was around eight in the evening and Katsuki was tired, sweaty, and hungry. He contemplated on just ditching this entire expedition altogether and call it quits, but he had already come so far. He forced himself to navigate his way through the dense crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of this one random corner store in one of the busiest spots in Tokyo.

He didn’t even make it to the place when he heard someone gasp beside him, pointing to something in the sky. Katsuki’s eyes shot up immediately, and of course there Spiderman was, just casually arcing above them. He turned around, pushing through the busy streets to make sure he was on the hero’s tail. This time, he wasn’t going to let anything distract him.

It was too easy for such an agile figure to disappear between buildings. Katsuki was afraid that he would hop over rooftops and land somewhere that had no street to connect to, but it seemed that Spiderman was happy enough to perform showy tricks over the crowd, valiant flips and arcs and twirls that had the people clapping. But he was never stagnant. One of his jumps catapulted him on top of some shops. Katsuki was just fast enough to identify the alley behind it, where bins were lined up against the walls, but at one moment he could see Spiderman’s silhouette blur over the sky, and the next he was gone.

Katsuki cursed himself under his breath. He contemplated getting back on the main street, maybe then he would get a better view, but a dark figure streaked over the small sliver of sky above him, cradled between two tall buildings, and Katsuki stopped. He peered further down the alley he was in. It was bigger than he expected, more like a backroad than a mouse tunnel. He ran down the length of it, trying to chase where he thought the figure would have landed. He turned to the left.

It was complete silence as Katsuki waited again. This time, he didn’t see a figure but heard the unmistakable thwip of Spiderman’s web shooters. He followed the sound, veering again to the left when the backroads didn’t give him a choice to go anywhere else. The farther he went, the darker and narrower the alleys were. It smelled faintly of mildew and the aftermath of rain. Katsuki looked around, fishing out his phone just so he could use it as a flashlight. There was faint graffiti on the walls. He saw unintelligible streaks of red and yellow as he beamed his phone over the damp planes. The singular light strobe moved over the smooth concrete, climbing higher and higher until—

“Looking for something?”

Katsuki let out a cry of surprise and dropped his phone. His new phone, dammit. He flinched as he waited for the clatter of it against the floor, but it didn’t come. When he opened his eyes, Spiderman was hanging upside down on a thread of webbing, Katsuki’s phone safely deposited in his hand, covered in white string. He wagged it like he was teasing a dog with a bone. 

“ Bugboy .” Katsuki scowled as he reached over and snatched it from him, trying to get rid of the web by rubbing the screen against the fabric of his shirt. It didn’t come off. Last time this happened, Katsuki had to practically douse his laptop in vinegar to get rid of the webbing. It had reeked for ages after. He was not looking forward to doing that again.

“Bakugou.” Spiderman chirped. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you following me around?” The hero clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “It’s not safe, y’know.”

Katsuki froze, tucking his phone back in his pocket safely. Had he been that obvious? Maybe Spiderman was just referring to this one time. There was no way he knew that he had been up to this for three days now, right?

Katsuki scoffed, hoping that it masked the panic in his head. “I wasn’t fuckin’ following you.”

“Oh yeah?” He drawled. Somehow Katsuki knew that he was raising an eyebrow behind that stupid mask. “Then what’re you doing in a place like this? It’s pretty suspicious.”

“Shut up.” Katsuki flushed. “Fuck.”

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? He hadn’t thought his plan through this far. He had Spiderman right where he wanted him, but now what? Demand that he take off his mask? Ask him outright? He glanced around him. This was the perfect place, too. No one would be able to overhear them. It was safe enough for a confrontation.

“Don’t even know your way back, huh?” Spiderman teased, mistaking his looking around for being lost. “It’s two right turns, and—”

Katsuki cut him off. “Shut up . Christ . Just fuckin’ let me think .”

This seemed to catch the hero off-guard. He dropped from the thread that was keeping him hovering over the ground, turning right-side up as he flipped easily to a stand.

“You okay, dude?”

There was genuine concern in his voice. Katsuki shut his eyes. His mind couldn’t help but drift back to Izuku. This wasn’t his voice. Had he been wrong this entire time, then? Or was he just putting on a different voice when he was behind the mask?

“Leave me alone.” Katsuki bit out. 

“ You’re the one following me around.” Spiderman said, incredulously. “What, are you trying to be my sidekick or something?”

Katsuki scoffed. “You fucking wish .”

The hero tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you here ?”

Katsuki looked at him. Looked at the two white tear-shapes that made up his eyes. That stupid fucking mask. If only he could really make eye-contact with him. Now that the moment was here, he was at a loss for words. He just knew that he had to say it right. He didn’t want to fuck this up further than he’s already done. What was he supposed to say? Hey, I kinda thought that my best friend was Spiderman and it’s really fucking up our friendship so I need you to tell me that you’re not him, and I need you not to lie because I might go insane. That was one way of putting it. One horrible way of putting it.

“Bakugou?”

Katsuki pressed his eyes shut.

Was this worth it?

Was this even worth it ?

Katsuki didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before a devastating boom echoed in the air. He felt the ground rattle beneath the soles of his shoes. It sounded distant. Very, very distant. But there was no mistaking the magnitude that one sound brought. It wasn’t the sound of an exploding tire, or even a gunshot. No, it was a sound that Katsuki has heard many times before. Bombs . High-damage ones. Chills crept up his spine, looking up towards the sky. There was no smoke, but he couldn’t really tell what was beyond the obstruction of these tall buildings. He couldn’t even tell where it was coming from.

At once, Spiderman startled into motion. He had an arm outstretched in Katsuki’s direction, as if that one action alone was going to make him listen.

“Go home.” He said, sternly, his voice low and serious. All of that previous mirth was gone. For a moment, Katsuki was stricken with the thought of Izuku. “ Go home , Bakugou.”

In a flash, he pulled himself up with a web and disappeared along the rooftops. How he knew where to go, Katsuki had no idea. He was left dumbfounded in the alley for a moment, staring at the spot Spiderman once was just seconds ago. There was a rising panic from the pedestrians beyond this alleyway. Katsuki could even hear them from here. 

Go home, Bakugou.

Katsuki shook his head. Fuck going home. He was already so close to confronting him. He wasn’t going to back out now. There was this inexplicable feeling that told him he had to follow where that dumb green hero was going. His gut was telling him something was terribly wrong, and that he had to be there for it.

Well, he didn’t have a plan fleshed out anyway. This was more than just standing here doing nothing.

Katsuki ran.