Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

29.10.2022

Spent this day in bed. Didn't do much else.
Just tumbling from thought to thought, feeling like I'm in the middle of running a race. Yet my body is stagnant, lying here still and in a trance. It feels as if I'm physically trapped in the space engulfing my form, like the air is a wall of resistance. And I don't have the resolve in me to fight it.
It was not a successful day.
 
30.10.2022

I'm still lying in bed. It feels like I haven't moved since yesterday. Physically as well as mentally. But I will have to move soon. Ochako and Iida have invited me over to a bar they've been frequenting at these past few months.
I didn't realize it's been such a long time since I last saw them. That's exactly why I couldn't refuse.
Pretty sure we haven't met up since July.
I can tell that they are getting worried about me, needles to say that it's unnecessary.

There is nothing happening to me right now. I really don't understand what they're so afraid of.
Nothing will change, nothing will get worse. I will not change. Everything will stay the same.

I should get ready soon. Have to, if I don't want to be late.
I won't be wearing anything special, which troubles me, because it means that I'll be underdressed. I just –I can't help it. I can't bear even just the thought of wearing anything fancy, let alone colorful.

In general, I lack the energy to do much at the moment. But all will be well once I get through this evening. Once I lift my head off the pillow tomorrow.
It's just this one evening. Just one evening of socializing.

I mean I'm sure I'll be able to do it. I know I will. This knowledge just doesn't make it any easier, unfortunately.

I'll write to you once I have more to say.

It was a little colder than Izuku had anticipated. So the autumn breeze left him with a slight chill running down his back and his arm hair standing tall when he turned the corner.
It was reflective of his overall mood, the cold. He'd rather stay at home and curl back into his bed. Submerge in the sheets and let them suffocate him slowly. It was a better plan than spending the evening talking to his closest friends. They'll ask him about what he'd been up to recently. Pry if he had managed to meet someone new on this dating app they'd made him download a few months ago.

And he'll look into their eyes and lie about it, straight into their gullible faces, all while drinking away at the memory of what he'd actually been doing all these weeks since the end of July.
At least this was how most of their meet ups went for him these days, this one wouldn't be any different.

Drinking was not a good idea for Izuku most of the time. Which is why he generally tried to stay away from it most of the time. It was not so much that he had trouble saying no once he had a few drinks down already. The refusing only really became hard the day after. When he felt fully inside of his body again and once he remembered what it felt like to have a mild haze lay over his mind.
The comfortableness of being inebriated was what drew him in again afterwards.

But this would not be a problem today. A Sunday. He had no time for drinking tomorrow because he'd spend the first half of the day numbing his mind at the law firm he was doing an internship at. An unpaid one to be more specific.

But enough talk about work, it was the weekend. Izuku was gonna treat it as such.

So he opened the door and stepped into the bar.

The air was not sticky. That was the first thing he noticed. Normally, when Izuku went clubbing, which didn't happen often, it took him at least a few breaths to adjust to the bar air. But the air quality in this facility was surprisingly good. There had to be a window open somewhere, he thought.

Absentmindedly he let his gaze wander around the place in search for that window he was suspecting, meanwhile taking in the rich, yet modern interior of the place. The walls were painted a dark gray and there wasn't really any other decor. No paintings hung on the walls, no posters, no photographs. Nothing.

It should have been off-putting, the total lack of any defining traits. It should have meant that this place lacked personality, felt barren, naked. And yet none of that applied. It was much more like the bare walls gave the room an easy, carefree air. It wasn't overladen.

And instead of it looking muddy, like he thought grey walls did most of the time, it complimented the otherwise black furniture. There was a lot of light in here, too. Though Izuku could not spot a window anywhere near, a whole assembly of different lamps were more than making up for the lack of natural lighting.

After a few seconds of him sizing the room, he made out the spot in which his friends sat. Iida had seen him as well in that moment and he was waving at Izuku from where he was sitting.
Izuku strode up to them in turn.

Just as he had expected, Ochako looked striking, with the dress that she was wearing. A black thing that was both decorous and stylish. It had a kind of rhombus-shaped opening at the front, right below the chest area. Izuku was a little embarrassed that he found himself struggling to not let his eyes stay on that area of exposed skin for too long. He looked at Iida to distract himself.

Iida's attire was matching with what Ochako was wearing. He was wearing a dark silky shirt, albeit not the same intense shade of black as Ochako's dress. They looked very good together, Izuku found. Very much like a team. He was happy for them, honestly.
They started dating when the three of them were still in high school.

Izuku couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that it happened. At one point it was just ... like this. Izuku also couldn't determine the exact moment when Ochako had lost her feelings for Izuku, however deep they might have been.
It had most likely been a mere puppy love. They were fifteen each. Izuku'd filled out a bit over the summer. And when he'd come back to school and greeted Ochako after not having seen her for the entire summer break, something had just been ... different. About the way she reacted to him.

She would blush a lot more, smile a lot more. Laugh about his jokes a little louder, even though, back then, he already hadn't been the most frequent jokester.

And it wasn't like he was particularly uninterested in her overtures, either. If the mess that was Katsuki hadn't happened shortly after, they might have even become a thing for all he knew.

But it was all in the past now. He'd never made a move on her, because it wouldn't have been fair. Not to her and not to him, either.

He hadn't been in a place where he could have been a good boyfriend to her at the time. And he still hadn't really left that place ... if he was being honest with himself here.

The feelings for her faded with the passing of time, more quickly than he'd expected. Just like hers. And now she's with Iida. Someone that's devoted to her and would lay the entire world at her feet if only she did so much as ask.
So, if you asked Izuku, she really dodged a bullet with him there.

"It's so nice to finally see you after all these weeks." Ochako greeted him.
You could hear the smile in her voice and that improved Izuku's mood, at least a little. At the sound of it, he instantly felt himself relax. Like some small nervous part of him had been fidgeting inside his chest for the past few weeks and he had only noticed it now that it was put to rest.

It had really been a long time, even for his standards.

She hugged him right after saying that and Izuku felt her perfume invade his nostrils not a moment later.
He'd never asked about the scent, but if he had to describe it he'd describe it as the essence of a secluded pond in a hidden rosy garden. It might not have exactly been a smell, but it was the image that his mind conjured up any time he thought about Ochako. Or in this case her perfume.

He hugged her back enthusiastically until they parted again a few seconds later.

Hugging Iida felt just as good. They'd been friends for just as long as him and Ochako have. Him and Iida don't talk as frequently these days as they used to when they were still in College sharing a dorm together, but their relationship hadn't suffered at all during those years.
Iida was still like a brother to him.

"She's right man. It's been too long."

Izuku chuckled at that. The longer he spent time in their presence, the less he remembered why he was so deterred by the thought of meeting up with them today. There was nothing to fear from them. These were his best friends.

"You know, the internship has kept me pretty busy is all." He supplied while taking a seat at the round table opposite the pair.

"Ah right, you told us about these dullards. They still loading off all of their paperwork onto you?" Iida inclined.

"Well yeah," Izuku admitted, "But I shouldn't really complain. I have to keep my eyes on the prize, because I'm doing it all for the right reasons."
And it was true. As much as Izuku liked to complain about how difficult the internship was, how bothersome he found it whenever his coworkers passed all of their tedious tasks onto him, that he was, when it came down to it, nothing more than an errand boy, really, he still enjoyed every minute that he got to spend at the chancellery.

Or well, maybe enjoying wasn't the right word for it, more like grateful. He was grateful for the opportunity. The experience was gratifying.

"Well, that's what counts, at the end of the day." Iida gave him a warm smile. "But enough talk about work, Tensei is giving me enough legal talk as it is these days."

Izuku was just about to apologize. He hadn't taken into consideration that Iida must have gotten his fair share of lawyer chatter from his older brother, Tensei, who worked at the chancellery their parents founded. But Iida waved him off with a quick shake of his hands.

"Anyway, how have you been, Midorya?“

And there was it, the dreaded question. The one topic he didn't want them to breach tonight.
Also, Izuku knew that Iida was referring to more than just his overall well being. He'd asked that question with a specific intention.

It's been more than half a year since him and Mei, his last girlfriend and first serious relationship, had broken up. The break up itself had been a clean affair. It happened over text. They had both noticed it when the initial excitement of their arrangement had subsided and left space for some somber, ugly truths.

One of these truths being that Izuku absolutely wasn't made to be in a relationship, the sharp edges of his mannerisms too dangerous to be exposed to for a longer period of time.
And, of course, there were those days that Izuku primarily spent by lying in bed and ... just not getting back up again. Mentally withdrawing. She also found it hard to deal with those things.
And Izuku couldn't blame her for it, honestly.

So it also came as no surprise to him when, one day, he got a text message in which she told him she'd be "breaking up, good riddance" and found all her belongings, which hadn't even been many in the first place, vacated from his flat that same afternoon. Exactly eight months ago. But who was counting, right?

Izuku was fine, really. The break up hadn't left him any more aggrieved than he'd been before the last remnants of their relationship went down the drain. The opposite was closer to the truth, actually.

He wasn't doing better than during the relationship, not really, it was more so that he just reverted back into the same state of mind that he'd been in before he met Mei.
As if his time with her hadn't left a mark, no traces on the map that was his life. Like it was just a minor disturbance in the otherwise monotonous stream of his lifeline.

Just a short sliver of something ... else.

But now? Now he was back in the same place he had been stuck at for as long as he could remember, or well, for as long as he allowed himself to remember.

"I'm doing fine" Izuku told them. And made an effort to put on the most convincing smile that he could offer them for the night. Just big enough so it didn't come across as insincere, but not too big, as to not exceed the lines of authenticity.

"The first couple of months after Mei left were – difficult. I'll admit, but I'm doing really good for myself again. You guys don't need to worry about me anymore, I promise." The first lie of this evening. Accepting Mei's departure hadn't been hard, not really. He had long since stopped clinging onto volatile things such as romantic partners.

The only part about Mei leaving that had been difficult to get used to was getting back into the habit of sleeping alone in his king sized bed. It had taken him a lot longer than he was willing to admit.

"But Izuku, we will always worry about you, you know that?" Ochako chimed in. "You're our best friend. So no matter what you do, you will always be a part of our concerns. Of course I mean this in the most positive way possible." She gave him a nervous smile as she said those last few words.

"I know," was all he offered her in return. He knew he should be thankful for having friends that cared about him this much, really, but he was a grown man. And that hadn't happened just yesterday, either. So, though unjustitifed it might be, infuriation was churning in his stomach slowly, and all he could do to to mask it was to smile at her. It was that fake, giddy smile he'd been practicing for situations just like these.

It was perfectly convincing, and it worked every single time.

"Midoriya, did you have a look at the menu on your way here, yet?" Iida's voice interrupted Izuku's train of thought.

"Ah no, I actually walked here. And the wind was a bit fickle, I didn't want to take out my phone and risk getting it blown right out of my hand." Izuku chuckled, he was still a bit on edge.

"Alright, then take this." Iida was handing him a folded white paper, the menu. "My recommendation is the happoshu, by the way."
Izuku took a quick glance at it and in the end settled for the drink that Iida recommended to him.

When the waiter came to their table, Tenya took it upon himself to order for them so that was quickly dealt with as well.
It left them with a bit of time on their hands while they were all waiting for their drinks. Izuku was the first of them to break the silence.

He couldn't stop himself from asking about Tensei, even though he knew there likely wasn't a topic Tenya wanted to talk about less than the one of his older brother.
It had been a total shitshow when he had revealed to his parents he wouldn’t follow in their footsteps to become a lawyer, but instead would go to medical school and strive to become a doctor.
His older brother, on the other hand, went after chasing their parents' dreams. He attended a prestigious law school right after graduation, finished his master's there summa cum laude and started working at the Iida family chancellery shortly after.
For a while, this caused a series of conflicts between the two brothers, as Tenya's parents made no secret of whose decision they approved of more.

As far as Izuku knew it had become a lot better these days, albeit family dinners were still a little tense at the Iida estate.

"How is Tensei doing? Are his co-workers treating him well?" Given that he was to become their boss in less than 10 years. That's what Izuku didn't say. The world of law was – competitive, on the best of days.
And that was still a nice way of describing it. It wasn’t all that uncommon for people there to throw you under the bus without a second thought if they expected to benefit from it at work.
So nepotism was never received all that positively in these environments, even if no one could deny that Tensei was an exceptionally skilled and talented lawyer.

Tenya looked a little crestfallen before he answered him. An intangible expression passing over his face, gone as quickly as it had come. “Honestly, I haven’t asked him yet. We don’t really talk much these days. He’s quite busy with the chancellery work, I assume, and you know my schedule at the hospital. It’s almost impossible for me to get a moment of peace there, let alone one I could use to give him a call.”
Tenya played with the ends of a napkin that had already been lying there when Izuku arrived. It was all frayed now.

Izuku didn’t know how to properly respond to that, for fear of saying the wrong thing. It was funny, really. How much time he spent being depressed. And he was still none the wiser on how to deal with it. Especially when it came to others.

“I understand. I hope your schedule clears up soon.” Izuku said therefore. And to really hammer that point home, he reached out with his hand and patted Tenya on the shoulder, lightly. Hoping that it somehow delivered the sentiment 'It will get better, keep your head up.'

Iida gave him a thankful smile and cleared his throat.

“And what about Inko? How is she doing?”

Izuku took his hand back and shrugged, "Ah you know her, she is doing good. Her job is giving her a bit of trouble, some child's parents refusing to answer some of her mails, something like that. But she will handle it, no doubt.“ Izuku thought for a second about what more there was to say, and eventually added "Says she really enjoys seeing the Kochia bloom."
His mother had planted the bushes in their backyard when Izuku was just five. The color of the drying Kochia was something that spread throughout his childhood memories like an unerasabel filter. It had been his favorite color once, still was probably. But he tried not to dwell on that.

"I almost forgot it was their season. Why don't we go to the Hitachi Seaside park soon? I haven't been there this time round, yet." Ochako's face lit up with undeniable enthusiasm.

"That's a lovely idea, sweetheart. I reckon that I will be free for a day next weekend."

"Yeah, I should also be available." Izuku supplied, ignoring how his stomach squirmed uneasily at the thought.

"Cool, how about we settle for Sunday next week then?"

When none of the men protested, Ochako concluded that their plan was fixed.

With a triumphant smile she said "Great. Can't even remember the last time I've gone there."

"I think it was that time when you and Izuku went in ninth grade."

Ochako seemed to think about it for a second, before agreeing. "You're right. Gosh, what a great time we had. The Nemophila were so beautiful that day. It looked as if the flower fields had no real ending. Like, even at the crest of the horizon, they'd just go on and on an on."

"Truly a beautiful sight." Izuku hummed quietly, more so to himself than to Ochako.

It was one of the very few dates they went on at fifteen that they, at the time, had been careful not to call dates. But if Ochako noticed the context of that meet up, she didn't let it show.

"So, you guys have any exciting updates to share with me? Anything major happened since the last time we met?" He'd asked out of pure habit. And therefore he absolutely hadn't expected what they confided in him then.

Ochako and Iida shared a meaningful glance with each other. There was something in their eyes that told him that they'd been waiting for an opportunity like this.
And all the sudden Izuku had a feeling like he was not going to like what he was about to hear much.

Uraraka lifted her eyes away from her boyfriend. When her gaze landed on Izuku, she regarded him intensely, her big round eyes piercing him like warm wooden spears. It hurt, but he could imagine worse ways to get impaled.
Her smile hadn't faded once this evening.

"You are the first person we are telling this, aside from our parents." She giggled. "I don't even know how to say this aha ... gosh, this is harder than I thought."

And a little unfairly, Izuku's mind supplied that maybe the reason she was having trouble getting the words past her lips was that her mouth was twisted into one of the biggest grins he'd ever seen on her.

Iida put a soothing hand onto her shoulder, and it seemed to have the desired effect, because soon enough Ochako continued, this time in a more collected voice.
"I'm just gonna say it, okay. Just ripping the band-aid off." A last nervous glance to her boyfriend. And then came the only sentence, Izuku thought, that was capable of ruining this night for him.

"Iida has proposed to me last friday. And I said yes. Of course I said yes." And to Izuku's surprise her smile got impossibly wider at that.

"We are getting married in Winter." Tenya supplied in his baritone voice. The glee hard to overhear.

And though Izuku smiled at them – though he congratulated them profusely, despite the fact that his first instinct was to – wish them well and tell them what an amazing married couple they were gonna be – he still felt how his stomach did a weird and uncomfortable twist, before it dropped entirely.
As if, where his stomach had been mere moments before, there was now a heavy emptiness that was pulling everything inside him uncomfortably together. As if his stomach had spontaneously turned into a miniature black hole.

He wasn't jealous. That much he knew. That much was clear to him.
But it was hard to sort his thoughts and feelings about the matter. The news had scattered his mind tremendously and all at once. And it was almost never tidy in there anyway.

There was nothing left for him to do but to grin stupidly and wish for time itself to elapse faster. Or that the drinks would come sooner. Or both maybe. Most definitely both.

As if on cue, as if some omniscient entity had read his mind and decided to have mercy on him that day, their orders appeared infront of the them on the table.

Izuku downed the first one like he was a dying man and someone had just told him it was a cure for all his ailments. He ordered a second round immediately. Somewhere, in a mellow and far away part of his mind, he was aware that this must have given off a strange signal to his friends, but he didn't find it in himself to care. At least not at this moment.

All he knew right now was that his best friends were getting married. They were advancing, in life. And he? Wasn't doing that. And he also knew that this sudden realization felt awful. Absolutely and undeniably awful. So Izuku decided that at least for tonight alcohol was gonna be his cure for that newly-arisen problem.
Whatever it was that he was feeling, thinking, he would think about it tomorrow. Today was for partying. So he told his friends as much.

"Those are amazing news. I can't believe it, my best friends are getting married."
At least Izuku's voice sounded as fond as he wanted it to. At least he didn't have to worry about that.

"Well yeah, believe it or not, but you're not the only one who can't fully grasp it yet."
Iida agreed, a coy smile playing at his lips.

"What do you mean, Tenya? You were the one to propose to me. Don't tell me you asked me on a whim!" Ochako said incredulously, though it was obvious to anyone with two working eyes that she wasn't actually mad.

Iida was the one to chuckle now. "Oh no, that one I really thought through, don't worry. I just wasn't so sure that you were gonna say yes, is all."

Ochako gave him an incredulous look. "Oh please, as if there had even been a remote chance I would refuse you. You know very well that I've been madly in love with you ever since we were 17."

What Tenya replied to her next Izuku didn’t catch. He’d decided, for his own well-being, to stop paying attention to the next few utterances. He'd heard it all before, after all. The 'I love you's and the 'I love you more's that were sure to follow.

When he deemed it safe again he began a new. "And out of all the places you could have chosen, you decided to tell me this in a bar?

Upon hearing Izuku speak, Ochako and Iida seemed a bit perplexed, like they had spent the last few seconds of the conversation entirely in a world of their own. That happened sometimes, with them. They were so in love with each other that, at times, they seemed to perceive nothing but the other. It was as sweet as it was annoying.

"You know what I think? That it's a sign. It's like the universe wants us to celebrate the news."

And slowly but steadily, he managed to get them into the same party mood he was in. With all of them now at least three cocktails into the night (Izuku has had five so far), they agreed to start dancing now. Ochako was already more than tipsy. On their way to the dance floor, she had to steady herself with a hand to Iida's shoulder multiple times. So Izuku doubted that she would even be capable of dancing.
A few flimsy moves maybe, yeah, but dancing? Not a chance.

But she was gonna be okay. Iida would keep a watchful eye on her the entire time. And knowing the two of them, they'd probably only rock to the music tightly entwined anyway. So really, Chako was gonna be alright.

Izuku on the other hand. He lacked a dance partner as of right now. He didn't really need someone to lean on to to keep his balance, he wasn't that drunk, yet. But dancing by yourself, let alone in a club full of people, was really only half the fun.
So he made it his mission to find someone he thought looked like they would appreciate having Izuku swaying his hips close to them.

When he found his target – a woman, who looked like she was in her late twenties, in a glittery red mini-skirt and a white top that read "☆future milf☆", he made his way over to her.
She had previously made eye contact with him so Izuku assumed she wouldn't be to bugged about him coming into her proximity.

When he was so close that he could smell the perfume on her neck, she smiled at him and said "hey there". Or that's what Izuku assumed she'd said, because the rhythmic beat of the music was too loud for anyone to actually have a conversation here.
He smiled at her as his only answer and shortly after they began dancing with each other.

The alcohol in his blood stream loosened his tense muscles, as per usual. And it also gave him somewhat of a reduced sense of his own embarrassment. Which he needed in order to confidently move his hips the way he did now. He wasn't much of a dancer, normally. But there wasn't anything normal about this night. And also Izuku was at least confident enough to believe that he'd manage not to make a fool of himself just by shifting from foot to foot for a little while.

The women he'd approached seemed like she'd picked up on his rhythm now. She slowly began swaying her hips in a tune that complimented Izuku's own movements. Together, they settled into a comfortable sequence of dance moves, where they both could guess what the other person had in mind and, in turn, attune their own doings.

The silence of it all, this simple communication between the two of them, totally void of words, was easy to get lost in, Izuku thought. He hadn't been this at ease in ages.

His ears were pulsing with the music thrumming in them. The light installations, that were accompanying the songs, that always turned bright at a particularly harsh beat drop, and dimmed down once the music calmed, had a strange sedating effect on him.

He was alternately looking into the women's eyes and letting his gaze wander over the whole crowd of dancing bodies, all illuminated by the glowing purple lights.

For once this evening, his mind was almost entirely blank.
There were no thoughts racing through his mind that weren't an alteration of:

This beat is fire

I feel weightless

I feel really content right now

It's so hot in here

This is fun

Izuku couldn't have determined the last time it had been like this. When it felt like all his worries were negligible.
As if tomorrow was still so far away.

Izuku danced to maybe three or four more songs with her. But by then the alcohol had caught up with his head, and he begrudgingly had to excuse himself to get over to the bar to sit down for a bit. At least until his head stopped spinning.

He tumbled slightly on his way to the bar stool. He'd purposefully chosen the one at the far end of the bar, because it provided him with shelter from the bustling masses.
A bit of space was just what Izuku needed to help him switch into a more present state of mind again.

Later, if you'd ask him how exactly it had happened that he was lying with half of his face on the counter, upper body stretched in an awkward curve, he wouldn't know the answer to that. He'd really tried fighting off the dizzy feeling invading his mind, but fell victim to it nonetheless. The countertop was cool and comfortable, so he saw no actual need to try and get up again.
The world was just a giant tender pillow, anyway, right?
Hard to walk on, so you really had to try your best to keep off from toppling. But once you did, once you fell, the ground invoked in you the unshakable conviction that staying there, at rock bottom, was somehow the right thing to do. Like it was were you were destined to end up at. A pillow is there for you to lie on. A ground is there for you to fall on.

Or maybe Izuku was just drunker than he'd thought.

"You look like you're in dire need of a glass of water. Mind if I get one for you?"

A man's voice to his left interrupted him in, what he thought was, really profound rumination.
He turned his head as best as he managed into the direction from which the voice came. Which meant that he didn't turn his head at all, because it was already facing the man with the way he was lying on the countertop.
He just opened his eyes and looked up to him from under his lashes.

The man, who now looked at him with a slight curve of his lips and a friendly expression in his eyes, had a rather unusual hair style. It was the first thing that Izuku noticed about him.

The left side of his hair was red and the other one was white. Which of the sides might be the natural one, Izuku wondered. One of them at least had to be dyed. Or maybe the man had dyed both sides and his real hair color was just some unrelated third color. The roots must have had been touched up recently, because they didn't give Izuku any indication either. What an interesting riddle.

"Thank you ..." he trailed off.

And luckily, the man seemed to have gotten the hint, for he quickly answered, "Todoroki Shoto. And your name is?"

"Izuku Midoriya"

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Midoriya."

And with that the man sat down on the bar stool next to him.

He had a pleasant voice. There was a gentleness to it that could probably be attributed to the fact that he wasn't putting much emotion behind his words. It was all pretty soft and even, just like a – pillow.

Well, Izuku might be a little tired since he can’t bring himself to stop comparing things to cushions, apparently.

Izuku replied to him with a lazy smile.

The man, Shoto, didn't seem like the laconic answer discouraged him.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a pretty good dancer?"

That got a laugh out of Izuku. Quite literally no one had ever told him that. Izuku being a good dancer is a statement so far from the truth that only a lunatic would ever think about insinuating it.

"You're kidding right? You're just saying that because you want to flatter me."

"I might be. Is it working?"

Izuku felt his face flush at that. He's always been one to blush easily. But despite the fact that he  was positively flustered now, Shoto had managed to peek his interest. He took his time to properly look at the man next to him now.

Well, it was definitely hard to miss that he was downright gorgeous.
He was wearing a white tight-fitting smoking. On anyone else it might have looked like they were trying too hard, but on him it felt ... natural. White really was Shoto's color. It suited him.

His facial features were delicate in the same way that marble statues were, yet unmistakably masculine. And it all worked together in a way that was really pleasing.

His eyes – his eyes were especially dreamy.

There was something, alluring to them. It was hard to tear himself away. Izuku would have no doubt stared into them a little longer if he hadn't suddenly noticed something that he found absolutely hilarious.

For the second time that evening he burst out into a small fit of laughter. It would have been embarrassing for him under normal circumstances, but the volume of the bar was so loud, nobody even took notice of the two of them sitting there.

Shoto looked thrown off his track now.

"What? What's so funny about what I said?"

Oh, right. Izuku hadn't answered his question yet. Shoto must probably think that Izuku was making fun of what he had said.

"Nothing, it's just that. – I just noticed your eyebrows. " he said. And when he realized that what he had said wasn't self explanatory, he added "They have two different colors. Just like your hair."

After hearing what Izuku said, Shoto visually relaxed, previously tense shoulders slacking softly.

"Ah, right. I forgot about the effect my hair can have on strangers."

Izuku raised a brow, "I would think it's quite difficult to forget about that. Isn't people being-" he was trying to find the right choice of words as to not accidentally insult Shoto, "uhm–dazzled, a constant given when you dye your hair in such an unusual way?" Only after asking this did he realize that he might not have been the most fitting person to comment on the topic, given that he had rather prominent green curls himself and was always told they were one of his most noticeable features.

"They aren't dyed."

Now Izuku was truly surprised.

"Wait, they're not?"

"No. All natural."

"But that's like, so cool. So you really just always had two hair colors? Even as a baby?

"Well, as a baby I suppose I didn't actually have any hair yet, but yeah, I've had my hair like this since as far as my memories go back."

"Is it a trait you inherited from your parents, like some family trademark?"

In moments like these, Izuku wished he could claim it was the alcohol that got his tongue so loose, made him ask a stranger he'd met not even five minutes ago all these personal questions, but truth be told, it wasn't.
Sometimes he just got lost in his own curiosity, forgetting any sense of subtlety in the wake. He'd been like this since he was a little child. Back in the day this had gotten him in quite a lot of trouble with some of his class mates. It had gotten a lot better over the years, just, sometimes, in new situations like right now, it got the better of him.

Shoto put on an all too familiar expression at what Izuku asked. Izuku had become very acquainted with that peculiar face over the past few years. It's what Tenya looked like every time Izuku had asked him about Tensei or the rest of his family.
Maybe mentioning Shoto's parents had struck a nerve for him.

Shoto was noticeably more reluctant as he answered that question.

"Mmh, no. Not really. My mom has white hair and my dad has red hair. I suppose I just got lucky with my genes."

Izuku was nervous now. And when he was nervous like this, something in particular would happen. He started mumbling.

"Oh? That's even more incredible. It's such a rare feature. I can't even wrap my head around how that would work on a biological level. It'd mean that both of the alleles for your hair color would be equally as dominant. But instead of them mixing until a new color emerges that is the sum of all the different pigments, as it would normally happen, they're both still present in their initial form, just evenly divided. I literally can't see a single strand that seems out of place, nothing is misplaced, anyhow. It just looks so neat–"
Izuku managed to stop the rambling just in time, otherwise he would have started complementing Shoto on his looks in earnest.

It's honestly amazing. You're quite amazing, Shouto. It looks really good Shoto. You look really good.

Things like that.

Shoto's cheeks still lit up in a subtle pink, as if he had heard what Izuku was careful enough not to let slip. It was almost unnoticeable, so Izuku would have missed it, if he hadn't already been looking at Shoto's face.

The mumbling hadn't happened in quite a while. It was a little embarrassing, so he sheepishly added "I'm sorry if that was too inquisitive. "

"It's okay. I don't mind."

A female hand with an abundance of different silver rings on its fingers appeared in his vision. The water Shoto must have ordered at some point during their conversation (frankly, Izuku had entirely forgotten about it up until that point) was placed next to him on the countertop. He slowly lifted his head (at that, it immediately started spinning) off the surface and took a tentative sip from the red and white striped straw, the close resemblance to his patron not going unnoticed. It brought a smile to Izuku's lips.

"Are you feeling better now? With the water?"

"Yes, thanks again. You're a life saver, truly."

"Glad I could be of service." Shoto smirked.

Izuku took a big sip of his water to calm his nerves. A small part of him wishing that it was alcohol so it could make him bolder. "So how come you've noticed me dancing, I didn't see you there in the crowd?"

"Well, I was sitting here at the bar. And you're quite hard to overlook, I'd say." His smirk turned into a lopsided grin.

Before Izuku could blush and ponder on the meaning of what Shoto had said, the man in question explained himself.

"I mean, how tall are you exactly?"

Oh. Right. Izuku forgot about his own size sometimes, how others might perceive it, that is. He used to be quite small, had always been. When he finished high school though, he came to realize that he wasn't a short man, he'd just been a very late bloomer. The growth spurts hit him in such small intervals, it's like he became an entirely different person by the end of his last year in school. It had certainly felt like it.

"I don't know, like 6'2 I think."

Shoto looked like he wanted to let out an appreciative whistle. And that's what puzzled Izuku.

"Well, you're not particularly short, either, are you now. I can't really tell by just seeing you seated, but aren't you maybe even taller than me?"

"I'm 6'2 and a half."

Izuku let out an incredulous laugh at that and Shoto chimed in heartily. After a few seconds Shoto shook his head lightly, and looked up at Izuku again.

"I might have noticed you because of your height. But what actually drew me in was that it seemed like you were really enjoying yourself there. You go clubbing a lot?"

"No, I–actually, clubbing isn't really my thing."

That seemed to surprise Shoto. "Oh, how come?"

Izuku contemplated it for a moment before answering, "I guess partying can be too –“ he was searching for the right word, "overwhelming for me at times."

"I see. Now that you mention it, I've never seen you here before."

"Today's my first time here, actually. Some of my friends dragged me here, said there's something about the vibe of this place that I need to experience." The lazy smile returned to Izuku's face at the memory of his two best friends. "So if I understood you correctly then it means you come here often?"

Shoto let his fingers graze the countertop before replying to him and Izuku – he was watching the movement of Shoto's lithe hand like a hawk would its prey. Shoto noticed.
When he finally answered Izuku he looked positively smitten. "You've assessed right. Every once in a while I'll pay an obligatory visit.

"Why obligatory?"

Shoto shrugged. "It's common courtesy when you know the owners."

"Really, you know the owners?"

Izuku couldn't fight off the impression clawing its way onto his face. This bar was a rather popular venue, had been for the last year and a half.
It wasn't an all too rare occasion to meet a C-class celebrity on your way from the dance floor to the toilet and more often than not they had actual star DJs playing at this location. You had to buy the tickets for these nights like three months in advance.

"Camie and Inasa are old school friends of mine. They bought this bar like three years ago. Inasa has been busy with the design work and the compilation of the menu, while Cami takes care of the promotion on her socials."

"And what do you do?" Izuku asked, intrigued, "When you aren't paying obligatory visits to this bar, of course."

"I'm working in tech." Shoto said, a little cut off, like that was the end of it. It didn't seem like he wanted to elaborate so Izuku quickly wrote off any of the follow up questions he might have had. Izuku had no problem with Shoto being sensitive about his job, he got it, actually.
Jobs were quite the sensitive topic for most people, there was no shame in admitting that.

Still, the air around them had gotten a little tenser.

To alleviate some of that tension, Izuku let his gaze wander the vicinity. There were still a lot of people dancing with each other on the dance floors, the music playing as strong as ever, though a little subdued from where they sat.
Dimly, Izuku wondered how much time had passed since starting that conversation with Shoto. It had felt like they'd been talking for just a few minutes, but when Izuku looked at his phone to check, he realized that more than half an hour had passed already.

Maybe he should call it a night. It was getting late.

Just as he was about to turn to his red-white-haired company and privy him to his plans, he took notice of something in the corner of his eye.
Something that made his heart sink to the bottom of the bar.

A glimpse of golden blonde hair.

It took his breath away in an instant. Horrified, he let his eyes follow the person that looked like– no, that couldn't be. That was absolutely impossible. It wasn't logical. It didn't make any sense.

The person walked towards the dance floor now. And when they started moving their body to the tune playing, Izuku counter-intuitively felt every single one of his limbs, every muscle in his body, paralyze. There was nothing he could do but continue to watch, mind in disarray and body frozen.

Watch as the blonde, the phantom, danced with a red haired person for a song and then, when a new song began, danced with another person, yellow haired.
Izuku couldn't make out any more details about them, his eyes were glued to the blonde phantom, taking in nothing but him.

Surely, this wasn't real. Surely, his eyes were playing tricks on him. His late nights at the chancellery spent infront of the computer screen must have taken their toll on him finally, and his vision had suddenly deteriorated as a result.
At least that was more plausible than –

He couldn't even bring himself to think it.

Katsuki was dead.

It had taken Izuku a long time and a lot of effort to accept that.

Katsuki was dead.

Katsuki was dead.

So how come he was staring at him now, dancing with these two strange guys Izuku had never even seen before, very much alive?

Izuku's mind was on the verge of breaking apart.

Again, he found himself thinking 'This can't be real'. As if thinking it enough times would suddenly make all the pieces of information that were loudly clashing against each other in his mind finally click into place. As if it would make sense of this.

He only came back into his body again once he watched the blonde man leave the crowd and head into the direction of the bar toilets.

Shoto was staring at him now with a strange expression written all over his face. He was concerned, clearly.

Had he been talking to Izuku? Had he tried to wake him from his trance? If so then his efforts had been futile, Izuku hadn't noticed any of it.

He could only guess what he might have looked like to Shoto while all of -- this had just happened. Like he had seen a ghost, probably.
And well, in a way he had.

Izuku waited exactly one minute. He knew this for certain, because he watched the little pointer of the iPhone clock app move over the white circle while doing so.
And then he excused himself from Shoto, telling him he needed to go to the toilet, the water and all the drinks catching up to him. Which is exactly where he was heading now.

When he pushed open the door, the blonde man was standing at the sink, washing his hands, meticulously.

Izuku was out of breath, yet he couldn't remember having run to the bathroom stalls. All of his focus zeroed in on the man, the stranger. Katsuki.

He was bowing down, not at all taking notice of how someone was glaring at him. Izuku's eyes were burning so much, part of him was surprised that Katsuki didn't sense that he was being watched purely by the heat of the stare. Surely, he must feel it? The sensation of eyes burning into his back, his nape, the top of his left ear. Any place that Izuku could see of him. But Katsuki didn't stir. He was tall, Izuku could tell, even when he was crouching down by the sink. His back was broader than it had been the last time Izuku had seen him. Of course it was. Nobody stayed 13 forever.

When Katsuki finally shook his hands dry and looked up, their eyes met in the mirror. Izuku felt as if at the point where their gazes collided, the mirror abruptly burst, big cracks spreading rapidly across the glass surface, distorting the reflection. It was all in his head.

Frankly, Izuku had no idea what it must feel like to die. But right in that moment he was absolutely certain that this situation came very close to it.

He wanted to open his mouth then, utter Katsuki's name. For the first time in a long time.
Test if the person he'd thought dead for the last five years was really standing in front of him, not two meters away, an arms' length-- three measly steps, and he was alive-- and it was not just a figment of his imagination.

But the man was faster.

"Deku?"

And that's when Izuku knew that it was Katsuki.

Chapter Text

Screw what Izuku had said before. About how hearing that Tenya and Chako were gonna get married was the single thing that could ruin the night for him. This one was worse. So much worse.

That one word. With the power to punch the breath out of his lungs.

Deku.

Katsuki was the only one who had ever called him that. This was his name for Izuku. Not a single soul had said that name to him in over a decade.

Izuku hadn't forgotten it though, how could he? He had spent so much of his time since then conjuring up daydreams about Katsuki. And in those dreams Katsuki had referred to him by that name.

This moment, Katsuki's return, had been at the top of the scenarios he had imagined during those times.
He had thought about this often. What exactly would have to happen in order for him to see his childhood best friend again.
He’d imagined that, at some point, he'd be called by the police, telling him they had finally managed to find Katsuki.
What he would look like when he was found. Torn clothes. Tousled hair. Emaciated. Pale, skinny. But alive, not dead. Still here, still here with Izuku. Izuku was 15 then, and still full of hope and optimism. Katsuki was gone for just a month after all, the odds weren't exactly in his favor, but they weren't so bad, either.

But, after four years of hoping, Katsuki was pronounced dead. And they hadn't told Izuku.
He had eventually found out as a result of his constant asking around.

After that, the fantasies had taken a turn for the worse, became more – gruesome. Less about his wishful thinking and more about reality, scathing as it then truly was, crashing down on him.

When the police had discovered the body, nobody had thought about calling Izuku. A then 19 year old young man that had no familial ties to the victim. It was understandable, really, why they hadn’t considered it. Understandable, albeit hurtful.
So, Izuku had not been present at the scene. Yet, none of this stopped his mind from creating these hyper realistic images and nightmares of how all of it must have gone down.
Katsuki, 18, or even younger, Izuku didn’t even know that for fucks sake, lying somewhere in a ditch. Motionless. Lifeless. Admittedly, one of his tamer fantasies. He could imagine much worse. He had practice at that after all.

Katsuki was always pale, he had inherited the porcelain like complexion of his mother.
But even so he was never deathly pale.
In fact, when Izuku allowed himself to visit that part of his memories that he had so carefully locked up, all the versions of Katsuki that he remembered have this one thing in common. The little bit of red tint on his cheeks. Katsuki looked a little different every time you met with him. Sometimes he had bruises on his face, sometimes they were located somewhere else. On his arms or maybe even his stomach, or collarbones. Sometimes he didn’t have bruises but scratches instead. Rarely ever would he have a black eye. Those were the days that he didn't come to school so the only memories Izuku had of it were made in his own bedroom, to which Katsuki would come whenever he couldn't be in school and didn't want to be home yet. Everything was always a little different about him, except for his slightly tinted cheeks. They had always stayed the same.
Despite his young age, Katsuki had been a hot head. It was so easy to set him off that his face had always been in this perpetual state of rosy liveliness. Izuku had found it endearing.

Just the image of Katsuki's lifeless face was enough to make Izuku want to rip the skin of his body. It was just so-- wrong. So perverse.

Still, nothing that Izuku had imagined came close to the reality that was unfolding in front of him right now.

Katsuki. Alive. 23 years of age. Staring at him as if he had seen a ghost.
As if Izuku had been the one who'd gone missing, to be then pronounced dead after four years of absence.

It angered Izuku, unreasonably so.
He'd always thought that he would be filled to the brim by feelings of relief, happiness, pain, sorrow.
that he'd experience a high like no other.
All of these big and overwhelming emotions that you were supposed to feel in such a situation. Because having those emotions would make sense for him now.

A long lost loved one had just come back to him. Obviously that was going to make him joyful-- exhilarated. Feel like he was gonna explode into a million little pieces of himself because the cheerfulness inside of him had found no other way to get out. That should be what he was feeling right now.

But the reality was different.

He was so unbelievably mad. His hands were shaking at his sides with the sheer effort it took him to control this anger.
So full of rage he felt it curse through his veins like a hot beam of something without solid form, something lithe and dangerous. It was hard to get a hold of.

The corners of his vision blackened when he looked at Katsuki.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Izuku's voice was low. It sounded dangerous, even to his own ears. And all of a sudden the situation felt different, like something else was happening entirely and this wasn't a wholesome reunion between two childhood best friends. No, Izuku felt like a predator that was lying undiscovered in the high grass, spying out its prey. Ready to make the deathly pounce.

The next words pushed uncomfortably at his vocal cords like a flood to a dam. He opened his mouth and let them burst out.

"What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were dead!"

Katsuki looked taken aback, like he had been unexpectedly slapped in the face. And Izuku assumed it was the asperity of his tone that did it, rather than what he said. But apart from his slighty disrupted demeanor, Katsuki stayed silent.

Izuku wasn't sure if Katsuki was even understanding him properly. He had spoken so harshly it had sounded more like water coming out of a geyser than actual words.
And he was still drunk, a drunk with the habit of slurring when too emotional.

Izuku started anew, because there was no way to oppose a geyser, "Where the fuck have you been? What has gotten into you, leaving like that?"

Now that Izuku was finally able to ask all of these questions that had plagued him for years, jabbing at his mind with their sharp beaks and giving him nowhere to hide from the onslaught, he felt like he was slowly losing it.

He wanted the answers, wanted them so badly, and Katsuki was still not responding, he was just– staring at him. At the way Izuku was talking himself into a frenzy, or cardiac arrest for all he knew. He had no real feeling of his body at that moment, he couldn't tell what was going on with him just now.

The next words were laden with pain and he whispered them without really knowing why, "Is that even what happened? Did you leave? Fuck- I don't even know that."

Izuku's voice broke. He didn't dare to try uttering anything else in fear of going mute all together.

His mouth might have been screaming at Katsuki, demanding answers from him, whether he wanted to give them or not.
But his eyes-- his eyes were begging for them. Revealing to Katsuki all of the misery that the years he'd been departed from him had caused. All the sorrow that had accumulated and had made a permanent home in Izuku's body.

Izuku observed him with burning eyes and an aching throat. Heart beating louder than he was breathing even. Say something. He thought.

Just say something. please–

Finally, Katsuki opened his mouth, but to Izuku's disappointment, no sound followed. Katsuki did not begin to speak, he just stared at Izuku intensily. It looked as though he was trying to get words past his lips, but ultimately, he failed at it. After a few seconds, a lifetime, he let out a labored wheeze. And then he closed his mouth again. Silent once again.

This did nothing to calm the blind rage fizzling through Izuku's bloodstream. It felt like all his blood volume had just been substituted with blind and untamed fury.

He was in Katsuki's face all at once. He grabbed at him by the collar of his shirt, his fists intertwining with the fabric at such force that his knuckles stuck out white and the fabric of the dress shirt creased dramatically. It was stretched so taut, it looked mere seconds away from ripping. 
Izuku almost was not even aware of it. He was that out of it at that moment.

"Tell me right fucking now, Where. the. Fuck. You've. Been."

It didn't pass by Izuku how anguished his voice sounded, like the yowling of a beaten dog. He sounded as if he was drowning. And maybe that's what he was. drowning.

So he looked back at Katsuki's face. Because, before all of this, before everything that was wrong with his life had gone so horribly wrong, it had been Katsuki that had kept him grounded whenever he was close to losing it. Katsuki had been his strongest anchor.

His eyes were so. Red. So bright– like the scorching afternoon sun of a summer's day.
They were the sun dried Kochia in the garden of Izuku’s childhood home.

Izuku couldn't pull his gaze away. Couldn't do anything but stare into Katsuki's eyes as if they held all the answers to the questions that had been burning away at his mind for an entire decade.

Breathing was harder now that all his energy was focused on waiting for Katsuki to answer him. He tried to calm down then, telling his lungs to stop spasming so much, but to no avail.
His breathing didn't relax, against his efforts, it still came out in harsh gasps.

But Katsuki wasn't any better off, Izuku noticed now. He was huffing just like him. And he was still looking at him. Had not averted his gaze once ever since he had set his eyes on Izuku after spotting him in the mirror.

The air around them felt charged, and every intake of breath hurt Izuku like the oxygen had suddenly turned into a different element, some gaseous acid pouring down his throat before pooling in his lungs.

The seconds ticked by.

The only sound filling the small space of the bar's toilets was the irregular breathing of the both of them. Izuku was looking at Katsuki and Katsuki was staring right back. And it was the most unnerving sensation Izuku's ever felt.

He had been so convinced he would never be able to look Katsuki in the eyes again, but here they were.
He couldn't have said if a minute had passed or an eon.

It was then that Katsuki spoke.

"Deku," he muttered for a second time, softer and gentler. More assured than before. And this time the word shot through Izuku like a bullet, his heart squeezing painfully at the sound. It had meant so much once. But now that felt like it had been a lifetime ago. Why did hearing it now hurt so much?

In the few silent seconds that passed after Katsuki had said the word, Izuku hadn't paid him his full attention. Had been stuck at a point somewhere between the past and right now. And when he came to again, Katsuki was lowering his gaze down Izuku's face. He stared at his freckles. Traced them round the slopes of Izuku's countenance. From his cheeks down to the cut of his jaw. And then, Katsuki was staring at his lips.

Izuku didn't understand.

But before he could react to what Katsuki had said, or even analyze what the look Katsuki was giving him now meant, he felt, more than saw, him lean forward and then– nuzzle his face to the spot where Izuku's neck met his right shoulder.

A moment later, just enough time for an out of tune beat of his heart, Katsuki wrapped his hands around his waist. At that first second, Izuku only registered that warmth encircled him.

After it, Izuku's mind must have short circuited and past that point and was playing tricks on him because he could swear that he heard a quiet exhale then. And it sounded almost as if someone was saying 'I've missed you'.
So close to his own ear that he could feel the words fawn over his skin as they were being spoken. Maybe he hadn't imagined them then.

All of the sudden, it happened so fast that Izuku had no time to comprehend it even himself, it all became too much for him. The skin contact too hot and overwhelming. The proximity imprisoning. The hands on his waist too heavy, too hurting. The chest that was touching his own sucking the breath out of his lungs, suffocating.

His whole body flushed in this alarming way, he could practically hear sirens going off in his mind. As if he had spent the last two hours on the dance floor, exercising his muscles without break, enclosed by numerous anonymous dancing bodies, and not just by sitting comfortably relaxed on a bar stool like he actually had done.

He needed to get fresh air. Get out of there, out of the embrace.

Without thinking, he plastered his hands on Katsuki's chest and pushed. A moment later he felt the unfamiliar arms let go of him, give in under the pressure.
Quickly, he turned around, put his back to Katsuki.

The door. He forced himself to concentrate on it, make it his target, his sole point of focus. He reached for it, and not even a second later he was out of there. His body was moving on pure reflex now. He was fleeing, he realized then. His flight instinct had kicked in.

Now that he was back in the main room the heavy music immediately pounded in his ears again and he welcomed it.
It was a numbing sensation that drowned out any of the confusing thoughts racing through his mind at a thousand miles per hour.

He couldn't really grasp what had just happened. None of the feelings in him made any sense to him on a first surface level scrutiny.
It was comical. Downright ridiculous. It made him chuckle to the point at which his shoulders shook violently with every exhale. What a sight he must be offering just now. If his appearance even just somewhat resembled how it felt inside of him, he probably looked manic. Once he allowed the shocked amusement to take over, it was hard to herd again. So he stopped trying to and chuckled incessantly, while moving towards the exit of the bar. He didn't know if anyone was taking notice of him, but he also didn't care much.

The need for him to leave was almost physical now. He couldn't stand being in here a moment longer, like this was a burning building and he was trying to escape cremation.

When he came outside, it was raining. What a relief, his alcohol-addled mind supplied. He was still on fire, but the rain was going to put out the flames. He took a few deep and ragged breaths then, the fresh night air penetrating his lungs like water entering a sponge.

It wasn't that much colder than it had been at the time of his arrival, but he still noticed that he had started shivering almost immediately after stepping outside.
He really wished then that he had gone out in more than just a T-shirt, but what did it matter now.

Without taking another look at the bar, he began walking to his apartment. Chako and Iida were probably going to notice his absence soon, but he would just text them he had left early once he was back home.

His mind was screaming at him to ponder what had just happened. It wanted to think about Katsuki.
But Izuku was already busy pushing all of his feelings on the matter into a dark and remote, secluded area of his brain, the one where he had stored all of his other painful memories.

And once he had managed that, he sealed it away.

And soon enough, after waiting another few minutes, he slowly but steadily regained the reins over his mental space, the last moments already feeling to him as if he had experienced them in a dream, rather than in reality. Maybe the alcohol was helping with that, too.

It was good. It was what he wanted. This way, he would continue to function. He would manage to pull himself together every morning, like he had done ever since Katsuki's disappearance all these years ago.

With that in mind Izuku turned into the next alleyway and disappeared into the dark, rainy night.

When he rose the next morning, he did not feel better. And, much to his chagrin, he hadn't forgotten about last nights events.

Despite his slight hangover, his mind was clearer than it had been in a long time. With a half suppressed groan, he turned to his left and made for the aspirin on the bed side table he'd had half a mind to put out for himself the previous night and swallowed it dry, he couldn't wait to get it into his system.

Once that was taken care of, he gulped down three huge sips of water and when he had gathered enough resolve, he stood up.

It was 7 am. The day had started and he had work to attend to. He better made haste.

The suit he had picked out for the day was a little uncomfortable but there was nothing he could do now that he was at work so he sucked it up. Today was gonna be a tiring day at the chancellery, he could already tell.

Not only did he have a bunch of work to catch up on that had been left unprocessed over the weekend, since that morning he was also plagued by flashbacks of the previous night. They popped up in regular intervals, making sure that he never had more than just a minute of peace.
Since the moment he'd headed out of his apartment, they had been haunting him every time he was careless enough to let his mental shield drop.

Izuku knew why this happened. He wasn't that naive.

He hadn't given himself any time to digest the events of the last night (as soon as he'd arrived home, he immediately made for his bed and forced himself into a deep, dreamless slumber) so it's like his brain was trying to pay him back ten times by forcing him to deal with the things he was trying very hard to keep below sea level. But they were always resurfacing.

Still, he wasn't new to this game by any means. He knew exactly how to make it that painful memories became a little less painful and a little more bearable. At least for a while at a time.

After an initial period of adjustment that had lasted for the entire car ride to his workplace (40 minutes), he had eventually gotten the hang of it.

Whenever a memory came up now, it took him merely a few seconds to get it back under control, push down the thoughts and feelings that had decided to bubble up from his subconscious.

There had only been one time that morning when he'd already been at hist office and wasn't fast enough with suppressing it.
His face hadn't been guarded, the anguish on it that was mirroring the one inside his chest left unconcealed.
His coworker had seen. And unfortunately for Izuku, she wasn't tactful enough to just not ask him about it.

"What's up with you? Still hungover from last night?" Kyouka had just come back from the coffee machine, steaming Metallica mug in her right hand.

She really had no idea how far off that guess was. In fact, Izuku had a very high alcohol tolerance, but there was no good in correcting her on that.

"Mmh. I let it get a little out of hand I think." He'd just murmured in response. Focusing hard on the screen in front of him in hopes that seeing him so concentrated would prompt her into not asking him any more questions.

"Well, don't let the boss see you like this then. I want you working here with me next month, do me a solid and don't forget about that."

The internship Izuku had landed at this place was ending in less than a month. He'd already handed in his application for a permanent full-time position three weeks ago and some talks, with him and without him, had been held afterwards, but the decision was still pending. They certainly hadn't told Izuku about it yet.

Jirou wasn't an intern anymore, she'd started working here half a year earlier than Izuku and had therefore already gone through the entire hiring process.

"Well, aren't you a softie. Don't tell me you like me that much?"

She slapped the stack of papers she'd picked up from her desk against his arm and smiled despite of herself.

"Yeah, just don't let that get to your head."

He smiled at her before returning his gaze to his computer.

"In that case I'll make sure not to cross ways with Aizawa today."

"Great. That's what I wanted to hear."

And that had been the end of it. After their little chatter they both went back to the cases they'd been working on.
They'd spent the last half an hour in a comfortable silence that hadn't been disturbed by anyone because Jirou and Izuku were lucky enough to not have to share their commodious office with anyone else.

He wasn't doing his best work today, he'd be lying to himself if he claimed otherwise.
But the more time he spent immersing himself in this case, the less time he could spent sinking into the quagmire that was his own head, thinking about Katsuki.

About what his sudden appearance meant for Izuku. What he would do now that Katsuki wasn't dead. How he could make it so that he would never have to see him again. Not by chance, not by choice.
Or the exact opposite: How he could make it that he would see him again, and when that would be.
Less time to think about wether he was even going to see him again. If there was even a chance that he would. Was seeing Katsuki again even a possibility?
Izuku had rushed off so quickly, he had no idea where Katsuki had gone after their conversation. For all Izuku knew he could very well just have disappeared again and in that case thinking about what to do on their next encounter was useless anyway.

Izuku had touched him last night, had his fingers squeezed around his dress shirt, and he was still only relatively sure that it had actually, truly happened.
Part of him still questioned his own judgement. 

He also didn't think about whether he even wanted to see him again.

How likely it was that his feelings overwhelmed him a second time and forced him to make another run for it.

But most importantly he didn't think about the familiar abyss that had opened up inside of his heart at the sight of Katsuki. That right now he felt like someone had blown a hole in his chest the size of a canon ball.
Someone could come and stick his hand through him this second to reach some of the case files stacked behind him on the shelf and he wouldn't question it.

He surely also wasn't thinking about the anger that had come over him last night. Anger so fierce that it had rendered him immobile, that's how much of a hold it had had on him.

No, he wasn't thinking about that at all. Because he was good at compartmentalizing.

He was at work. Here, there was simply no space for anything that wasn't related to any of his cases.

In that fashion, he managed to work for four more hours until the beginning of his lunch break at one pm.

"All done with the case?" Kyouka's voice sounded from the desk at the other end of the room.

"Yup, just finished the last disposal."

"Great!" She took a quick glance back at her calendar then, before turning around to him again, "I have to be at the District Court for an appointment after lunch break. Can we go eat somewhere that's on the way?"

And since Izuku had no reason to object to that, they quickly made their way to one of the restaurants that they had designated as their official 'lunch break food places'.

They were seated at one of the smaller tables on the first floor of the restaurant when they started their daily office gossip catch up.

Izuku wasn't much of a gossip normally and Kyouka wasn't either, actually, but in the world of law it was kind of hard to not be one. You never knew what kind of small and seemingly insignificant information would prove to be useful later on.
It was only good practice among colleagues that liked each other to share what little things they knew.

"Did you know that Kendo is supposedly dating Monoma?" Kyouka inclined, once they had settled into their seats and had taken off their outside jackets.

"What, like they haven't been doing that before?" Relationships at work were kind of prohibited. There was a clause in the employment contract that told you to refrain from romantic relationships with colleagues, but that only applied to the premises, so anything that happened outside of work was just looked over with a lenient eye.

Not that people seemed to care much for that rule, anyway.

"Not that I'm aware of, no. Apparently they were seen checking into the same hotel room together after the last big case they had been assigned."

Izuku idly wondered if a hotel stay financed by the company still counted as work premises, but he quickly swatted the thought away. He wasn't one of those cunning lawyer assholes that threw people on the curbs when given the chance.
Even if some people, people like Monoma, really deserved that from time to time.

There wasn't really anything for Izuku to add to the topic, he didn't have much to say about Monoma, so he thought back to the rather interesting rumor he had last managed to pick up on.

"You know what I have heard?" He took a bite from his apple crumble in order to drag out the moment.

Kyouka tapped the edge of the table with her nails when she answered "No, but let me guess. Does it have something to do with an upcoming promotion for me?"

"Believe me, this is even better. " Izuku smirked. "So, I have been told, and don't ask me where I know this from, because my sources are confidential, that Aizawa has a roommate."

"In what world is that information better than–" Kyouka began but Izuku was quick to interrupt her.

"Ask me who it is."

Kyoka raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "And who is that mysterious roommate that we are talking about?"

"It is Hizashi Yamada."

Hizashi was also working at the law firm. And he was also one of their superiors. Unlike Aizawa, he wasn't famous for the deathly glares he could direct at you when something about your work had disappointed him. Hizashi was known for being the complete opposite of what you would think of as a lawyer, let alone a lawyer of his status.
He was also part of the company's HR team.

"You're kidding."

"I can assure you I am one hundred percent serious."

"I mean how would you even know? Did you follow him home and break into his house?" Jirou asked, half joking and half serious.

Izuku understood Jirou's suspicions well. Aizawa was about as private as a person could be. Nobody at the office really knew anything about the man. The fact that Izuku knew about his roommate was only due to a very lucky coincidence. A piece of information he had overheard in the men's toilet a few days ago when the very man in question had entered the stalls apparently to have a rather heated argument with his roomie. Izuku had deemed it the safest option to just stay inside the stall and pretend like he wasn't even there. But he wasn't gonna admit to that, not even to Kyouka.

"My sources are confidential, remember?"

Kyouka still looked as if she was in disbelief. Like she was trying to add the newly received information to the already existing data file about Aizawa in her mind and the pieces just wouldn't fit together.
Izuku had felt the same way initially.

"But at the office he makes it seem like he hates Yamada?"

"Maybe he does, because Yamada is such a bad roommate." Izuku shrugged.

"Why would they even need to be roommates at this point? Aren't they like both super loaded?"

Izuku gave her one long, meaningful look. And it was then that something in her mind seemed to click finally.

"No, you don't mean they are...?"

"Gay lovers? Actually yeah I do."

Kyouka picked up her cup of coffee from the table then and sagged into her seat a little. As she layed back she took a rather large sip of the steaming drink before putting it back down on the saucer.

"Wow. Just-- wow. What a week huh? And it's only Monday!"

And Izuku hummed at that in agreement, partly thinking about the revelation of his boss being in a secret gay relationship and partly because of something else.

For the remainder of their talk, they kept it easy and switched to way less exciting topics. It was still just Monday, after all. All the stuff for new office gossip was still just in the making.
And without any of them really noticing, the hour of their lunch break passed by.
They eventually payed for their meals and tipped the waiter. When they put on their jackets and headed outside, they parted for the day. Kyouka heading towards the district court to meet a client and Izuku heading back towards the office to meet with the stack of yet untouched papers he had been so happy to leave behind an hour ago.

He had maybe worked for half an hour when an unexpected visitor knocked at the office door. Knocking was kind of redundant, since the office had this unspoken policy of 'keeping doors open' but it was still helpful as Izuku had been so absorbed into his work he hadn't noticed Aizawa entering.

Well, shit, there goes his plan to not meet with the boss today. It was a good thing that Kyouka wasn't at the office anymore.

When Izuku looked up at him, he saw the man closing the door. And that made Izuku stop what he was doing and focus on Aizawa fully. What was so important that it shouldn't be heard by uninvited ears?

"I wanted to talk to you about your current position." Aizawa said as he came to a halt in front of Izuku's desk.

Was it possible that they had made an early decision? Was Aizawa about to tell him whether or not he was gonna be unemployed as of next month?
If so, then his expression didn't give away any of it.

"Oh." Izuku said, rather elegenantly.

Aizawa saw through him. "Do not worry, Midoriya. I do not have the results of your assessment, yet. I just wanted to give a quick overview of the situation so you won't spend the next weeks trembling in anticipation."

When Izuku nodded as a way to let Aizawa know he could get on, he did.

"Listen, I should not really talk about this, but the way I see it your chances of landing the job are pretty good. However, you should not let that get to your head. This is not the time to become lazy."

Izuku was already about to reply that he wasn't planning on it but Aizawa cut him short with a hand gesture.

"I know you aren't, I know that you're a diligent worker. I'm just saying that this time right now is almost more important than the internship altogether. Part of the reason why the hiring process is so long is so that HR can weed out the people with weak resolve. They are ever so watchful now. So just make sure that they will only catch you on your best behavior from now on, yeah?"

Fuck.

Having HR watch over him was about the last thing he needed right now. This was not good, not good at all. Just thinking about how hard the next few weeks were going to be for him, with having to put on this pretense every single day of the coming month now, was making his stomach curl in uncomfortable ways.

Still, when he answered Aizawa, he made sure that his concerns were not audible. "I will, Sir." And a little belated, a little sheepishly, he added, "Thanks for letting me know."

"Don't get used to it." Aizawa just chastised before leaving him to his own devices. Door open.

For the rest of the day, Izuku remained mostly undisturbed. He didn't talk to any of his other coworkers. He didn't have to, luckily. Kyouka was the only one he had needed to fool. For now, at least.
He got a good chunk of work done before he decided to call it a day and head home.
The car ride home passed by him in quiet solitude.

And when he arrived at his apartment's front door, he opened it and was swiftly filled with dread. The dread he fought hard to keep at bay for the entire day.
At work he'd been holding himself up by strings, like a puppet in a theater. At home, there was no show to put on. No one to perform for.

So at once, Izuku felt his mask and with it his entire body's strength collapse. He barely made it to the couch before he broke down. He was exhausted like he'd never been in his life and if he didn't know better he'd think that he had just come back from running an entire marathon.

Whatever it was that had allowed him to put himself together at work, it had expired by the time he'd stepped over his threshold.

All that was left inside of him now was this growing sense of misery and he didn't know what to do with it.

So he did what he always did whenever that happened. He closed all of the curtains in his bedroom and lay down. The bedroom door didn't open for a second time that evening.

Tuesday was somehow worse than Monday had been. Shouldn't that be different? People tell you all the time that it gets better with time, but that wasn't the case for Izuku, had never been.
Now that it's been two full days since that unexpected encounter, Izuku came to the slow but steady realization that he had been blanketed from the blow in a way. The full force of it had somehow been prevented from entering and settling into his bones fully. Up until now.

It's like when the body experiences a fatal flesh wound, the mind will send you into a state of shock and pump you full of adrenalin so you don't immediately experience the pain that the wound inflicted. But it can only protect you so much. The pain will come back to you if you're lucky enough to survive the wound.
And Izuku had been lucky enough, if that's what you could call it.

So he was experiencing the full intensity of it now.

It was almost okay when he was at work. The pain dimmed down significantly, was dulled by the familiar, mundane routine. What had once been a blazing fire setting his head alight, flames licking at even the deepest, most gated parts of his mind, became no more than a slight headache when he exited his apartment and willed himself to focus on nothing but his job.

It was infinitely worse when he came home.

There was nothing at his place that could protect him from the assault of memories that awaited him whenever he came back home. Nothing that could distract him from it.

He didn't like watching shows anymore, he didn't like reading anymore. And he also didn't like drawing anymore.

He texted his mom a few times. Inko liked hearing from him every now and then. They hadn't properly seen each other in like a year and since she'd been a bit of a helicopter mom and was still struggling to let go of some of her old habits, she liked to know what her only son was up to. So he let her know from time to time.

Of course, he didn't always tell her everything. He had told her about the break up with Mei eventually, but he hadn't really told her why it had happened.
That Mei couldn't deal with his gloomy moods and that he wasn't about to try forcing her to.

He'd told her about that time a few weeks ago when he'd been admitted to the hospital for a night, but he hadn't told her why.
That, after a night out, he'd been so drunk he straight up passed out and some unlucky stranger had found him on the streets and was kind enough to call the ambulance instead of like-- robbing him or whatever.

Wednesday the situation was so unbearable for him that he briefly contemplated telling her about his encounter with Katsuki, but he quickly disposed of that idea again.

What was there to say, even? He had promised his mom that he had moved on from it a whole while ago. It had been one of her conditions for supporting him financially during his internship in Tokyo.
He didn't want her to worry about him getting distracted by this sudden change of events.

And, a little pained, he admitted to himself that there was also the possibility she wouldn't even believe him. He had no proof of having met Katsuki after all. If his distressed state wasn't evidence enough. Well, it probably wasn't.
It wouldn't be the first time she'd hear her son claim to have spotted his old childhood best friend somehow somewhere out of nowhere.

As far as Inko was concerned, Katsuki was dead. And there was not a chance that that assessment was wrong.
As for Izuku, it had taken him a lot longer to lose his last ounces of hope. Inko had been way faster at that. She hadn't liked seeing Izuku cling to his hope like it was some lifeboat, that he believed his hope would ever lead him somewhere and not just make him drift aimlessly in the same dark pools as always.

In one of her messages Inko had told him to remember to dress warmer as the temperatures dropped. And that he should come visit her again soon.
He had replied to her with a thumbs up gif and promised to do so. The latter he would do once his job allowed him to take a little time off. Which meant that the earliest they would probably be seeing each other was Christmas.

It didn't get better as the week went on. And it became increasingly harder for Izuku to block out any thoughts about Katsuki. It seemed to him as if most of his thoughts, if not all, had at least something to do with him.
So his main objective these days was to try to not think about anything at all when he wasn't at work, when he didn't have that outside pressure to occupy his mind.

But not thinking proved to be a herculean effort to him over time. His whole life he'd been doing the exact opposite. Always thinking, sometimes a little too much even.

How was he supposed to go on like this?

On Thursday, his current condition had apparently deteriorated to the point of interfering with his performance at the job. And that was bad. So bad in fact, that even his boss, Aizawa, had felt the need for a talk.

Right after Izuku had come back from his lunch break one of the assistants, even lower than him in the pecking order of this company, had told him to visit the man's office then.

Aizawa had waited for him at the far end of the room, sat in the expensive tall leather chair behind his presumably even more expensive desk, leveling him with an unreadable expression. Which told him that it probably couldn't mean anything good.

Izuku strode up the the desk and took the liberty of sitting down across from the man without waiting to be prompted by him.

They were at eyes level now.

Aizawa was the type of man that looked like he was going through the rough divorce of a ten year long marriage at all times. He looked tired and drained. The dark patches under his eyes ever so visible.
Izuku was very familiar with that particular look because by now he had seen tons of those poor bastards in court that had gone into a marriage head first and not thinking, only to wake up ten years later and realize that they didn't like anything about their lives.

The man was still attractive though, undoubtedly. He had this mature appeal to him that only people of a certain age (40 or older) could have.

If Izuku was any more into older guys, and if the older guy in question didn't happen to be his boss, Aizawa would definitely be on his radar.

It's not like Izuku was the only one who thought this way at the office, if the yearning looks that some of his coworkers were directing at the man in secret were anything to go by.

The look that Aizawa was giving Izuku right now was anything short of yearning.

"I could not help but notice that your performance this week does not equal what you have proven to be capable of in the past."

As Aizawa said this, he rearranged the small collection of his Montblanc pens on his desk, setting them all into straight and even lines.

When he was satisfied with his work he looked back up at Izuku.

"And that is a problem, as you might be able to tell. Because I do want to have you working here."

Izuku gulped.

"Haven't I been persistent enough when I talked to you on Monday? Have I not stressed how important the next four weeks are for you, Midoriya? The committee is keeping a closer look at your performance now, this is not the time to slack off."

Izuku was quick to respond, "No, sir, you have been insistent. I do understand my situation."

"Then why is it that you are not trying harder to follow my advice?"

Well, what lie was he supposed to tell his boss now? Aizawa and him were probably closer than a regular trainee was with their boss, but they weren't actually close by any means, so the truth was out of question.

"Just, some family stuff going down that has been kind of occupying me this week. I will see that it is settled as soon as possible. And I will make sure that it won't affect my workflow anymore."

Being vague was clearly his best option here. And what he had said wasn't even that far from the truth.

Aizawa fixed him with a contemplative look then. "I see. I understand that, but I can only repeat myself here. You cannot give HR any reason to doubt you. Your work has been close to impeccable, but so has Monoma's. So, best advice I can give is to handle of the family matter what is in your control and try to move past what isn't."

"Yes, Sir. I will do that."

And that had been the end of it.

It was one thing to know that his performance wasn't up to his usual standards. It was an entirely different thing to be told just that by none other than his boss.

So on Friday Izuku had pulled himself together as best as he could. There was light at the end of the tunnel, after all.

Luckily for Izuku, the weekend was a recurring phenomenon and not just a one time occurrence.
When he clocked out of his work that Friday afternoon, he could finally do the one thing that he had wanted to do ever since coming home last Sunday. Drink alcohol. The thought of it the only thing that had made it possible for him to get through the week at all.
The reason why Izuku usually stayed away from alcohol was because he had the tendency to abuse it. Just like right now. Misuse it to dull unpleasant sensations that he found hard to deal with otherwise.

Of course, he did not go to the same bar as last Sunday. He would be damned if he did. Instead he went to a bar that was rather far away from his own apartment. Just to make sure that there was not even the slightest possibility of meeting 'him' again.

There was one rule that Izuku enforced meticulously: Do not drink at home.

He had learned from past experience that it was never a good idea.
So that was why, on this very Friday evening, Izuku found himself at this rather run down rather unknown dive bar, sitting in the poorly lit and non-busy corner of the main room, ordering his third long island iced tea of the night.
The bar was shabby, significantly less accommodating than the one Iida and Chako dragged him to, yet it was just what he needed today.

Just a dirty, unknown place to get drunk at anonymously and undisturbed. Unknown enough to harbor him for one night without having to fear any of his coworkers walking in. Dirty enough to make him want to get home, eventually.

As the alcohol slowly began to drown out all images of luminous blonde hair and glowing red eyes and fade away the pain that had settled in his bones, Izuku sank into the worn out red leather bench and reveled in the feeling of a mind emptying itself, something he had longed for all week.

He was finally at peace.

Chapter Text

Weekends were a dangerous thing for Izuku, for they stripped him bare of all his inhibitions. For about 48 hours, he existed in a vacuum. No one that knew him even slightly better than just fleetingly would be there to keep him company.
The only people that Izuku was surrounded by on the weekend were total strangers. People he met in bars, saw in public transportations, passed by on the sidewalk. The nature of the enounter cursing Izuku to become to them no more than a one day memory, bound to be forgotten with the impending nights sleep.

Weekends were the magical time window when he could be himself. With all that it entailed. And that's good, because god knew he needed that. A time-out.

When the clock struck 5 pm on Friday, it wasn't Izuku, the committed and successful 25 year old intern that left the chancellery, no, it was someone entirely different. It's a version of himself that he tried so hard to keep locked away on weekdays.
A version that was so fundamentally different from the shiny, brilliant lie he fabricated of himself over the years.

One that was full of flaws, riddled with all the times he had to stitch himself back together. A vessel on the brink of bursting as it struggled to keep all the feelings that he bottled up from spilling out.

One that got it's mind still hinged in the past, that, for the past years, had spent it's existence mostly by wandering in the growing shadows of his being, solely focusing on escaping the prying eyes that the daylight brought.

During the day hours of the weekend, Izuku habitually spent most of his time sleeping. Only in the evening, when the day drew to a close and the last beams of sunlight passed over Tokyo, Izuku truly awoke. Slowly, but surely.

In the past, he had used that time slot to go to bars, got himself drunk enough to cradle his insomnia and then later passed out on the couch in his apartment on his way from the front door to the bedroom.
However, that proved to be unsustainable rather quickly. After all, it wasn't exactly a showcase of good will to show up to work with unrulied hair, a mismatched tie and a crumpled shirt that he had hurriedly thrown on in the morning after a particularly unhinged drinking binge, drawing the blinds in his office first thing as he entered it, just as to not have it feed into his hangover-stricken headache.

And there was, of course, that time a few months ago, when he'd been black out drunk and ended up in the hospital in a chain of events that he himself wasn't even fully privy to. That event marked for Izuku the point in time when he had made the decision to curb his drinking habits, at least for a while.

Last week with Tenya and Chako was an exception, if you will. A favor that he had still owed his two best friends.

This week? This week was a coincidence.
After all, who could have known that– Katsuki, that he would suddenly decide to rise from the dead and come to haunt him in this random bar?
Izuku was likely not the most unbiased person when it came to this, but still, he would say that such an unpredictable turn of events warranted him drinking again for a few days. He was convinced that anyone with a sane mind would do as he did, if they ever found themselves stuck in the same situation.
Then again, Izuku wasn't sure he even considered himself a person "of sane mind".

There wouldn't be a next week.

He would make sure of that. No matter what state he found himself in by the time next Friday came around, he would not spend it in a bar. Three times wasn’t a coincidence anymore, it was a pattern.

He had spent all of what remained him of his Friday night in that shabby bar. The night itself had been uneventful, yet he'd still managed to stay until closing hours. The sun rose early in Tokyo, so when he was on his way back home, it was already way past dawn, birds tweeting from the trees he occasionally passed, sunlight creeping around almost every corner.

He'd arrived at his apartment around six in the morning and he had closed the curtains in a hasty manner. Fell asleep not half an hour later, dropping into his bed like a corpse into a grave.

When Izuku woke up the morning of Saturday, he was overcome with the somber realization that this day wouldn't be any different than the previous one. He knew, just as he knew that he would go to sleep today and wake up tomorrow, that he would likewise spend this day in a bar. That a bar was the only place for him to be at today.

The bed was hard as he lay there, cold and uncomfortable. Izuku wasn’t one to toss around a lot during his sleep, yet it looked and felt like a small tornado had passed over him that night.
The blanket was tossed to the end of the bed, only covering the lower half of his body. His limbs felt stiff and about ten times more leaden than usual and his head was throbbing with a dull, unplaceable ache.
He had the type of hangover that could only be made more bearable with yet another few drinks.

The majority of the day Izuku spent in his bed. He tried to sleep, but it didn't come to him so eventually he turned on the TV. Though he didn’t find any joy in watching TV, it proved to be useful in the way that it provided him with valuable background noise to occupy the silence of his apartment. For the most part, the disturbance in the tranquility of the place stopped his thoughts from running rampant.

When he deemed it late enough, he took the next train to the outskirts of the city. For a brief few minutes, he walked around the strange area, not looking for anything in particular. It had already started to get darker, and the last clouds evaded the horizon as the night began to take over.

Izuku walked around aimlessly, just enjoying the chill temperatures, for maybe fifteen minutes, until he spotted another nondescript, drap bar that he could call his temporary stay for the next few hours. In areas like these, they sprouted like mushrooms.
He stayed there for less time than he had yesterday. And he drank less, too. Fortunately for Izuku, it had the same sedating effect, likely because he had pregamed the previous day.

In a bar it was easy to play pretend, to be alright, because there were people surrounding you. People that expected nothing else from you than to be alright. They didn't have the slightest idea why you wouldn't be. And he regularly found himself feeding into their illusions of him.

Sunday morning, his alarm rang at point seven o'clock, exactly like he had set it up the night before.
It tore him from a rather uncomfortable dream. He couldn't clearly remember what he had dreamed, only that it hadn't been pleasant. The tight feeling in his chest a remnant of his nights turmoil.

The first thing he did after waking up was to take a shower, which was long overdue, really.
While he was at it he made sure to scrub his body from the bottom to the top, not leaving a single spot unattended. It was necessary in order to get rid of the faint alcoholic, sweaty vapor that had begun clinging to him ever since Friday.

And with that, half an hour of his morning passed. When he came back to his room afterwards, he fished his closet for something that was still wearable and hadn't yet been designated as his work clothes for the upcoming week. He eventually ended up putting on a simple grey hoodie with some nonsensical text written on it as well as a pair of blue jeans.

He only had so much time left that it was just enough for him to make himself a sandwich, then eat it and brush his teeth before he heard the doorbell to his apartment ring.

When he opened the door, he was treated to the sight of none other than Ochako. She grinned at him widely and greeted him with a quick "Morning Izuku, slept well?"

In reality, he could have only denied that, but he still went on to say "Yes", and, in support of his statement he gave her a curt nod.

She seemed infinitely better and way more rested than he felt. And looked like, too, if he was right in interpreting the look that she directed at him now as doubtful.
If she had something to say, however, she skillfully refrained from it.

And not much later, the both of them strolled to the car that Ochako had said was parked at one of the adjacent streets to Izuku's own address.

At the car, Izuku could see Iida sitting in the drivers seat. He drove a foreign car, a BMW with some single-digit number as a name, in the color silver. Izuku wasn't a cars guy, so he only guessed that that was the model name.

The car had been gifted to Tenya by his family the day of his graduation from med school. His parents hadn't been quite as proud of him as they wanted and had hoped to be (not as proud as they had been of Tensei), for they had not attended the white coat ceremony, but it was never just that easy with them. They'd still had enough family pride to want to express their integrity in some other way, which, in the case of the Iida family, usually entailed a good amount of money, hence it came around to the car. 

Izuku, without thinking, took a seat in the back of the car and Ochako naturally sat down in the passenger seat beside her fiancé.

Izuku was situated behind the drivers seat now. At his arrival Tenya turned around to him as best as he could and fixed him with a sunny glare. Wow, the both of them seemed to be in the best of moods today, Izuku couldn't help but observe. But then again, they had always been morning people, so that shouldn't have come as a surprise.

"Good to see you, Midoriya! How's the week been?"

Izuku attempted to smile in the same fashion as Iida and answered, "Ah, nothing special. Just a regular work week, you know."

Iida turned back around and started adjusting something about the placement of the side mirrors before he replied "I take it then your boss didn't update you on the job offer?"

"Unfortunately not, no. I'm still waiting for the decision."

"And you'll tell us once you have news on it, right?" Ochako asked.

"Sure."

It hadn't crossed his mind until then but sure, he could do that.

Shortly after that, Iida was apparently happy with the side mirrors, as he was beginning to drive the off the parking lot.

It takes about two hours to drive from Tokyo to the Hitachi Seaside Park with the car at medium traffic. And Iida and Chako spent most of the ride talking about their wedding plans.

It was mostly just general planning, what locations they're considering to be suitable, who exactly they're going to invite, what food they want to serve etcetera. All of which were things that Izuku couldn't and probably shouldn't really contribute to, so he stayed quiet for most it.
And he was grateful for that, since he wasn't really in the mood for idle chitchat.

He wasn't paying attention to their conversation, if he was being honest there. It was hard to explain, but he found it difficult to do so. The topic was making him uneasy… among other things.
It's not like he wasn't happy for them, he was! Honestly.
But, it's just that hearing about weddings and ceremonies and undying love and welding a bond for the rest of your days, it was just ... a lot to hear all at once. It was so far from whatever direction Izuku was heading right now that even just thinking about it made him feel like he was so far off kilter that it could never be fixed. At least it seemed that way to him.

He was leaning with his head against the tinted window, half looking out of it, gazing at the passing landscape, half lost in thought, when he was brought out of his musings by Ochako directing a question at him. Are you listening, Izuku?

He hummed to let her know that she got all of his attention.

She turned a little more towards him and went on, "There was something I still wanted to talk to you about, Izu."

At that, he perked up. Suddenly more alert than he had been all morning. "What is it?"

"Nothing bad, don't worry." She chuckled. "At least, I hope it's nothing bad! As you know, Tenya and I are getting married soon. And, since you're my best friend I wanted to ask you if you would do me the honor of being my best man?"

To say that Izuku was surprised to hear that would have been an understatement.

He scraped the back of his neck as he answered "Of course, Chako. I mean I'm the one you honor with this offer."

She smiled at him and he could sense that she was somehow relieved with his answer. As if some invisible weight had fallen from her shoulders. He didn't understand why, it was not like he would have refused her and Ochako knew that he wouldn’t have, right?

"Thank you, Izu. I'm really glad to know I'll have you there with me."

Ochako was an only child. She had always wanted siblings, but her parents never considered to have more apart from her. They could barely afford to care for one. More children would have just meant more mouths to feed, more bodies to dress, more bills to pay.
It was something that Izuku and her had in common, being an only child.
She was probably sad that she didn't have more family members other than her parents that she could invite to the wedding.
Izuku likely understood that better than anyone else she knew.

And, at once, this realization filled him with a feeling he couldn't quite place, but would categorize as some alteration of guilt. He’d learned that if he was confused about the way he felt, it usually turned out to be guilt.

Ochako really counted on him at their wedding, so much in fact, that she had appointed him to be her best man.
And what was he doing? What was he doing to make her feel appreciated? Completely go silent on her for the last few months. He had done his best to be unavailable, all throughout the times that she had done her best to be considerate of him and his whims.

He should really increase his efforts of being a better friend in the coming weeks, for her sake. He owed her that much.

Izuku gazed at her without any veils then, something he hadn't done in quite a while, a faint smile playing at his lips. And it was an honest one this time. He wondered if she could tell.
For a second she looked at him in something akin to positive surprise before she smiled right back.

Iida softly cleared his throat then and with that drew their attention to him. "You know, Midoriya. I would have asked you as well, but we came to the agreement that Chako would have the pleasure."

"Don't worry about it." Izuku replied, automatically.

Izuku hadn't even expected Chako to make him her best man, there was really no need for Iida to try and comfort him on not doing the same thing, really.

Iida shrugged noncommittally, focusing his gaze back on the street again. Izuku thought that that signaled for the end of their conversation, but, to his surprise, Iida went on.
His left hand was quietly tapping on the steering wheel when, a little more timidly than before, he stated, "I was also thinking about asking Tensei to be my best man."

Oh.

Well.

"I'm sure he will be delighted to get the offer. He’d want to be there for you, Iida."

It was the only thing that Izuku could think of in that moment. In reality, he had no idea what Tensei would think of it, but he was hoping that it would be close to what he had said.

It would break Tenya’s heart if his older brother decided to decline, that much Izuku was sure of. Tenya was rather big on family and everything, and a small part of him, Izuku didn't know how much space it took up exactly, had still not forgiven himself for defying his family all these years ago and with that unknowingly setting off their estrangement.

Iida didn't say anything after that. He clinked himself out of the conversation and focused solely on driving the car. The wedding talk didn't pick back up again and Izuku found that he was rather relieved about that.
He mostly stayed quiet as well. He only talked when he answered whatever questions Ochako threw his way from time to time.

It didn't take long until they arrived at their destination. Getting a parking lot was a bit of a hurdle, since it seemed like the park was well occupied today, but after a while they managed to, anyway.
Sunday way probably not the best of weekdays to come to this park, but it was no use to ponder it now when they were already here.

Iida went ahead and secured them three tickets at the reception and with that they were let in.
The park was simply too big for a day trip by foot (you'd have to rent a bike for that) so they likely wouldn't see all of it today, but that was alright with Izuku. He could think of better ways to pass the time that didn't include having to walk about 10.000 consecutive steps but he would never admit that to Chako or Tenya.

It was a ten minute walk from the entrance to the first flower fields and on their way there they passed by a few shops, some of them cafes and some of them selling souvenirs.
It was a sunny day, a rare occasion this late into the year. There was not a single cloud on the sky as far as Izuku could see. Nothing to provide them with shadow. When he commented on it, they thought it best to buy three sun hats in one of the shops close to them. They were of simple design, very functional with little to no ornaments and in an unobtrusive beige color.

If, before buying the hats, people couldn't have told that they were an assembly of three, they sure were able to now.
The only thing that bugged Izuku about this was that it was painfully obvious that Tenya and Chako were the two lovedoves, who came to the park to treat themselves to a change of scenery on their dates and Izuku was their appendage, following them around like a shadow.

The first flower field they passed by was a buckwheat one. Nothing special, really. In Japan the plant was commonly used to make Soba noodles, so it's not like people appreciated them for their frankly rather underwhelming white blossoms. In the see of green flower stems and leaves that they were attached to, they almost went unnoticed.

Ochako and Iida were of different opinions, seemingly. As they made it a point to take as many pictures with the flowers as they could. At first Iida had Ochako pose in front of the field while he took one picture after the other on his phone. In that moment the wind came upon them in a soft, cooling breeze and it blew into Ochako's white blouse in a way that gave the scene a dramatic effect. Her hair blown away by the wind, her arms spread, her smile bright. It was the exact moment that Iida decided to press the shutter. Izuku had no doubt that it would be a beautiful photograph.

After that, they asked Izuku to take pictures of the two of them together, which he willingly obided. Eventually, they even managed to get him to take a few pictures with them as well, promising to send them to him once they were back at home.

They did the same thing with the next flower field which was full of cosmos plants around this time of the year.

The pink, pinkish and white blossoms were, in Izuku’s opinion, a more fitting scenery for photos, albeit not that much more fitting.

The three were by far not the only visitors that took photos. People kept coming to a stop next to them to take pictures of their loved ones.
Right now, a family of three, a dad, a mom and their child joined Izuku at the ankle-high fence at which he stood, a little further away from were Ochako and Tenya were taking pictures of themselves kissing each others cheeks.
A little belatedly, Izuku saw that the family was accompanied by a Shiba Inu. The dog came, undiscovered by its family, steadily closer toward Izuku and eventually sat down in front of Izuku’s feet in a friendly pose, still wagging its tail, staring up at him with its big puppy eyes.
The dog panted slightly, under that thick fur it was probably even warmer than the temperatures suggested.

Izuku liked dogs. He looked around once to make sure that the family was still distracted, before he bend down and pet the dog behind its ear gently. What its name might be?

Izuku would have liked to have a dog himself, but that wasn't a good idea. He had gone over this mentally many times. It simply wasn't an option for him with the way that he struggled to take care of even just himself sometimes.

Before anyone had time to still discover Izuku, he got back up again, straightened his back and turned towards Ochako and Tenya again.

"Shall we, then?" he asked them, who now lifted their eyes off of the phone camera and up to him.

"Yes, sure." Iida answered. Ochako nodded affirmatively.

While they made their way atop the hill, Iida, who was currently sandwiched between Ochako and Izuku, turned toward the former and asked her, "Do you reckon we could use one of these pictures for our wedding invites?"

Ochako's face lit up the next moment. "That's a great idea, Tenya! I didn't even think about this."

Iida smiled at her. "Though I would still wait until we get to the Kochia to make that decision. Those pictures are probably the best fit for our wedding invites."

Kochia. Kochia.

Oh fuck.

How did he- how could he forget?

Wasn't this the single reason why they even took this trip in the first place? Why Ochako wanted to be here?
Somehow, when Ochako suggested for this days trip, Izuku didn't make the mental connection that she may have gotten the idea because of the Kochia that are growing here. How did that go over his head?

Fuck, if he had known this he would have found some kind of last minute flimsy excuse as to not make it to the trip today. He would rather be anywhere right now, anywhere, just as to not be here.
He was racking his brain for any memories concerning this place that he had. The memory of that one time when Ochako and him went here in ninth grade.
And then it hit him. They went here in Spring. And Kochia, during that time of the year, aren't red. When they haven't dried yet, they're still just green and about as inconspicuous as any other green bushy plant.

It was already hard enough for him to concentrate on not letting his mind sway to Katsuki as it was. Friday and Saturday he didn't have that problem, since the alcohol served him as a broom that swept about any thought out of his mind and under the rug of his subconscious.

Right now he did not have that luxury. It would have been way to risky for him to drink something before meeting up with Chako and Tenya. When it comes to things like that Ochako can be way too perceptive for his liking. She would have probably found him out within the first hour, and then he wouldn’t have had a plausible explanation for his doings. At least not one that didn't include a certain blonde that he had sworn himself not to talk about anymore.

How exactly would he react to the sight of the Kochia? Would there be a visceral reaction? If so, then he questioned whether he’d be able to repress it in time. He really hoped he was.

"If you ask me, any picture with you in it is suitable to be the cover of our wedding invites." Iida responded, sounding as earnest as he looked. Izuku knew that he was. With Iida, honesty was all that you would get. It wasn’t so much that he believed it a virtue, as it was the fact that there wasn’t a single lying bone in his body. Sometimes, Izuku wished he was more like Iida in that way.

"Don't go all sweet on me, Tenya. I'm serious, we should really take the Kochia ones if possible." She just chuckled, sounding stern and relaxed at once.

"What about one of the ones you took at the Cosmos fields?" Izuku asked then, putting all of their attention on him.

"Or the rose gardens? We're gonna pass them today, right? Aren't they a better background for this sort of thing? If you think about it, Kochia are just some bushes, meanwhile roses symbolize love in many different cultures."

Iida seemed to contemplate it for a moment, but before he could answer Izuku, Chako spoke up "I see, you're already taking your best man duties seriously, Izu."

"Mmh." He just mumbled in agreement, albeit he wasn't so sure on that. Were his motifs really that altruistic? For a fleeting moment, he felt a sliver of guilt pass through him, but in the end, the panic that had arisen at the prospect of having to come eye to eye with the plants, triumphed.

"I mean you're kind of right." Chako started. She started humming a little under her breath and her face transformed into a brooding expression. Occasionally, Izuku could hear her let out small “mmh“ and “well“ sounds as she began to run through Izuku’s suggestion.

Depsite himself, Izuku’s insides relaxed a little at the sound of her words.

"Well, but at the same time, I feel like roses are so overused. What do you think, Darling?"

Iida agreed with a nod and a quick declaration that went something along the lines of 'sure, darling' and with that went Izuku's chances of not going to the Kochia fields. He felt his heart sink into his stomach, so tangible that it conjured up the image of a pebble was slowly being carried away by the current of a riverbed, deeper and deeper down the flux, entirely helpless against the force of nature.

Ochako started walking ahead. It had gotten a little busier around them again, so it wasn't possible for a group of three to walk next to each other as they made their way atop the hill-like structure of the park.

Way to soon for Izuku's liking they arrived at the Kochia fields. And the sight of them was– it was just as bad as Izuku had imagined.

Red. Red everywhere. A sea full of red fire-like bushes as far as he could see.

And they were in the same shade of Katsuki's eyes. Izuku would know, since his memories of those particular eyes had been touched up as recent as last week and since then their piercing stare had come to persecute him all throughout the last week.

All at once his mind was full of him. Everything else that might have been there before toppled over and spilled out as it was forced to evacuate and make space for Katsuki.

Ochako and Iida drifted into the background, gradually blurring with the rest of the visitors.
His field of sight darkened considerably but it was not like he took notice of it much. He wasn’t in that park anymore, not truly.

From one moment to the next Izuku was stuck in his mind, the one thing he had tried to withstand the entire week. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could thing of to stop himself from overflowing with whatever thoughts and feelings he’d been holding back for the past week.

Katsuki was back. Katsuki was back. His Kacchan.

He was really here somewhere in Tokyo. And there wasn't a single explanation for how that fit into the reality that Izuku had lived in for the past ten years.

What had happened to Katsuki? Where had he been throughout all of those years? And how come he wasn't dead, when Izuku vividly remembered Katsuki's mom telling him with her charged voice and those perishing eyes that had followed him into his nightmares?

Where was Katsuki now?

Sluggishly, as though it required a great effort, another thought crept to the forefront of his mind. The most dangerous one by far and the scariest one, yet.

That was the thought that Izuku had tried to hide from all this time. That was the one question he had so far only allowed himself to ask at his darkest hours, his lowest points. There hadn't been many of them, he could count those times on one hand.

It wasn't the first time of him to ask himself this question, and yet, every time he had done it he had come up empty-handed. Not having the answer to it was the most devastating thing about it, really.

He tried his best to hold the thought back, but to no avail. It was no use and he knew it.

Why had Katsuki not tried to contact him even just once?

The question had hurt every single time it had managed to resurrect itself from where he had buried it inside. And yet, nothing compared to the pain it inflicted right now.

Because now he had seen Katsuki.

Katsuki, the tall, healthy looking adult man. Who had been light-hearted enough to go clubbing with his friends. Who had danced with them on the dance floor. Who had looked like there wasn't a single thing in the world that could ever trouble him. Izuku almost hadn't recognized him at first, because of that. The Katsuki that he remembered had never looked this … jaunty. At peace.

Present time Katsuki had looked like he was doing better. Way better.

And it had all happened while he was away from Izuku.

Izuku couldn’t help but wonder if that was what Katsuki had intended when he left.

In his damned letter he had told Izuku to forget about him. As if Izuku knowing Katsuki was somehow part of the problem.
Did Katsuki need to be away from Izuku in order to become happier? Was this it? Was Izuku something that he wanted to draw a line in front and then step over, so he could be done with his past once and for all?

Izuku felt as if his head was getting more leaden by the minute with the amount of thoughts crowding his mind.

And he only person that could put a stop to this, could truly give him the answers to all of his question, was the one he had left behind in the bars toilet last weekend.

Izuku’s hand twitched tautly, and he clenched it to a fist to prevent it from happening again. Fingernails stinging into the soft flesh of his palm, but it was the least of his concerns.

Why had he been so stupid? All the answers had been served to him on a silver platter and what had he done? He had run from them.

He had … run away …

Fuck. It. Fuck it! The irony of this was downright comical. Sometimes that is all that he thinks his life is, a comedy. That some sadist bastard up there was looking down on him ever since and repeatedly pulled him through the grater just to have something to laugh about.
Bad things keep happening to him and he can't make it stop. One good thing happens to him and leave it to him to fuck it up himself.
He had done it with Mei and now he had done it with Katskuki, too!

Just, why did he run away?!

For this he had no one to blame but himself. He was probably never going to see Katsuki again. He will probably never get the answers.

What was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to go from here?

"Izu?"

Izuku was so shocked so suddenly that he visibly winced when Ochako called his name. He was quick to school his face into a neutral expression then. The rapid switch gave him little trouble, the movements happening seamlessly courtesy of the years of practice he had in it.

Still, he idly wondered how much of his meltdown just now she had witnessed, but however much it had been, it had been enough. The look she gave him right now was nothing short of concerned.

"Izuku, is everything alright?"

Is everything alright?

Can it ever be?

The answer is no. No, it can’t.

'Everything' can never be alright. 'Everything' can't ever be just one thing. It can neither be just good, nor just bad.
It can never be just alright. Why do people ask this? And what answers do they expect, honest ones?

"I'm okay."

"But, just now it seemed–"

He cut her off, his tone not unfriendly, but also not particularly polite. "I'm alright."

"Izu, I saw the way you–"

"I'm fine!"

He had made sure to say it with more vigor this time, and before she could start anew, he turned around and began to walk ahead, sure that they would follow after him.
And even if they didn't, they would eventually pass him once they decided to get to the next station of the trip.

Izuku continued moving, cautious as to not bump into the people around him, but still, he was eager to get away from these hellish plants. 'Fireweed' is something that people like to call them, Izuku thought that 'Hellfire-weed' was a more suitable description.

The next field that came after the Kochia bushes was streched out with Pampas Grass. When he was far enough into it so he couldn't see a single trace of red in the direction that he had come from, he deemed it safe enough to come to a halt. He sat down on one of the park benches and began thinking. Not about Katsuki, but something else.

What a good best man he was. Ochako appointed him to be her second in command and he thanked her by being all ruggish and rude when all she did was show concern. Actually, what was wrong with him?

The wind came in a soft, amiable breeze and the cool sensation of it swishing through the hair at his nape did help to calm him, to an extent at least.

He took a few deep breaths then.

And that was all that he did for a while. Just– breathing. And sitting there on the bench. Listening to and watching the bustling life that was playing out in front of him as though he was sitting in the audience of a theater.

People came and passed him. Some of them stayed for a little longer than others did. Many visitors took photos with the pampas grass. The space around him was filled by the sound of shutters going off, parents saying "Don't move just now" or "Smile!" and dogs barking and children screaming and crying and laughing.

It was the sound of the children laughing that brought him back to a place that he had almost forgotten about. Right here, just about 20 years ago.
Until now Izuku had thought that the first time he had been at this park, it had been on his date with Ochako, but he now realized that that wasn't true.

He had already come here once, before that had happened. With his mom. And Katsuki.

Izuku had been seven, and Katsuki six. They had begged Inko to come here with them for weeks, until eventually she had caved in.

It’d been a bit of a hurdle to convince Katsuki's parents to agree, but Izuku, back then, hadn't taken notice of any of it. He was a child, a carefree and happy one. And he couldn't have imagined the many evils the world had already sheltered at the time. Inko had also done her best to hide this part of reality from him back then.
All she ever wanted him to see were the mirthful aspects of the story. The fact that they had made it to the park, not what it had taken for them to get there.

When little Izuku and little Katsuki had reached the pampas grass, something had happened that had gotten them the scolding of their (very young) lifetimes. Well, at least in Izuku's case it had.

The day had been sunnier yet than this one, for they had come here during summer. Different flowers had grown during that time of the year, but the pampas grass had already been here.
Unlike today, little clouds had spread across the sky, providing the little assembly with more shadow throughout their stay.

The hour was late, it was already beginning to get dark.
Izuku's mom had made them walk the entire way through the park, and though it had been nice to see all of the bright flowers and to show them to Kacchan, Izuku was tired now.
His feet hurt and he was thirsty. He wanted to go back home. But his mom had said that the exit was on the other side of the park so, to his dismay, they still needed to walk the rest of the path.

He was mindlessly swaying his hands at his sides, paying attention to nothing but where his feet stepped (a habit that his mom really liked to criticize him for “Look ahead, Izuku, not down to your feet!” As she always liked to say), when he felt something tug at his left arm.

Izuku turned around to Kacchan, who was almost two years younger, yet just as tall as him, and Kacchan was looking at him with a mischievous glare.

"Deku, come with me."

And so he did, because, when Kacchan told him to come, he followed.

They made sure to catch Inko in a moment of distraction as they started wandering away. Kacchan led him directly into the pampas grass. They had to step over a small fence that was dividing the walking path from the fields. In the back of his mind, seven year old Izuku wondered if that was such a good idea, but all thoughts, all doubts dissipated when Kacchan looked at him again.

"Why are we here?" Izuku asked him.

"Let's play tag, Deku."

"What, here?" Izuku had made a vague gesture toward the pampas grass surrounding them.

"Yes!" Kacchan had exclaimed then. And that, hearing his enthusiasm, was all the persuasion that Izuku needed.

All of it had amounted to Inko, after she had found them, (which wasn't so difficult anymore once they had actually started playing tag with each other and cried out and laughed every time the other got a little too close) chewing them out in the middle of the path.
The way home had been a shameful one, and Izuku had spent most of it crying with how guilty he had felt then, but when Kacchan took his hand as they seated themselves into the backseats of the car, all was well again.

When Izuku came to, Ochako and Iida were sitting next to him on the bench.

He couldn't have said when that had happened. He would have wondered if they had noticed him being absent-minded just now, but he didn't really … care. At least not in this moment.

He was done for the day. He was done playing pretend. He was done with worrying about anything and everything. He just wanted to go home.

There was but one last station on the agenda that they still needed to go to. Better to get it over with quick.

They made their way through the rose gardens and the flowers there left him as unfazed as all the ones before had done. It came to him as no surprise, he hadn't expected anything else.

He was strolling through the rose beds a little further ahead than Tenya and Ochako. That way he was trying to dodge their attempts at small talk.

Every once in a while he leaned down to one of the roses he spotted among the sea of stems and thorns and leaves to look at it a little closer. Not because he cared, but because he just didn't have anything else to do to pass the last stretch of their trip.

Throughout it all he felt so weirdly disconnected from his surroundings, he might as well have walked around in a puffer jacket, or a plastic wrap, or a helmet. Or all of it at once.

As he came to the last flower bed, he bend down once more, looking at one of the few roses left this late into the year, and he was struck by deja vu. There was something to the flower that he felt like meant something, yet he couldn't place what exactly it was. The moment was over in little more than a blink. Izuku rose back up again, walked towards the end of this installation and waited a few more minutes until Ochako and Tenya had finished their walk through the rose beds.

Their leave was a quick affair. Izuku was the one to drive this time. Iida had complained about tired eyes and Izuku had offered to be the one to drive with half a mind.
Next to him in the passenger seat was Ochako. Iida had sat himself in the back the moment they had come back to the car and he was currently dozing off, all sprawled out, taking in more space than you would guess from a person as uptight as he sometimes was. In this state, he showed little resemblance to the put-together demeanor that he usually made an effort to evince.

"He's tired, you know."

"Mmh?"

"Lately, he's been working ungodly hours at the hospital. This trip is really cutting into his circadian rhythm."

In his periphery vision, Izuku saw her shake her head softly.

"I told him that he didn't have to force himself to make it, but he really wanted to."

He could tell that Ochako smiled at him. Her voice sounded wearier than it had been all day and it made something in Izuku's stomach churn. He couldn't shake the feeling that it had something to do with him.

"Why?" He simply asked. Because he was tired, too. His voice just as heavy as Ochako's.

"He wanted to see you."

Izuku gulped. Which had become quite the painful affair, since a lump had started to form in his throat sometime during the day.

"You made yourself scarce, you know."

It took Izuku a moment to answer, "I know."

He allowed himself one quick glance in her direction then. He'd already made out that she was smiling, but as he looked closer, he saw that it wasn't one of her regular smiles. It was a sad one, and it looked weirdly out of place on her, like it didn't belong with her features. Her mouth wasn't meant to be dropping at the corners, her forehead wasn't supposed to be creased. It was even worse knowing that he had put the expression there.

"I'll do better. I promise." He said and he meant it.

"You don't have to, though."

huh. eh.

"What?"

In his surprise, he looked at her again, if only for a brief moment. Ochako had her hands in her lap and she was fidgeting with them. She wasn't looking at him anymore, instead she her gaze had strayed to the window.
Izuku was waiting for her to go on, but he couldn't look away from the street any longer, so he turned away from her again.

It was then that he heard her breath catch, albeit faintly.

"You don't have to make promises like that, Izuku."

The car was quiet for a few moments. He didn't know if she expected him to answer her statement, and he wasn't even sure what he would say if that was the case. Before he could make up his mind however, Ochako shifted in her seat again. As she came to settle, she had her gaze focused forward again, just like him.

Her voice sounded infinitely smaller when she continued, "I don't want you to just tell me you'll do better. I want you to tell me what's going on. What is it that is making you withdraw from us?"

Ochako let out a labored exhale, the sound filled the otherwise quiet space of Iida's car.

Why, out of all the places, out of all the times she could have chosen to ask him this question, did she have to bring it up right now, right here? When he was trapped in a car and he couldn't flee the scene.

He didn't feel like he was in the best constitution to have this conversation with her right now. The sudden return of one of his old childhood memories had left him more vulnerable than he could have imagined. His entire being felt like one big fresh wound that someone had ripped a band-aid off preemptively, leaving it exposed to all sorts of dangers that the open brought.

"There is no such thing."

"Izu…" she looked at him incredulously "Don't be like this."

His hands strained as he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

"I meant what I said earlier today, Chako. I am fine. I can handle myself."

It was his time to sigh now. If he could, he would look at her again, but as it was, he hoped that whatever she could make out from his profile view, would be enough for her to believe in his sincerity.

"And I hate to see you guys worrying about me, it's wasted efforts, honestly."

He had to pause his answer for a bit as they had reached the exit of the highway and he need his full concentration to turn. When he safely led them off the highway, he went on.

"I don't- fully know what kind of impression you have of my current state, but I'm sure it's way gloomier than it really is."

And because Izuku is an asshole, and also desperate enough, he reaches for the one thing that may help him out of the pit here. He crafts another fib, wrapped into the truth just enough to manage to fool Ochako. "I lied in the bar, when I said that I was over Mei. It's been- it's been harder than I thought it would be."

The next part was rather embarrassing and way closer to the truth than he was comfortable with, but Izuku knew he had to admit to it if he wanted to be convincing. "I lie awake at night sometimes, catching myself dodging towards one side of the bed, as if I to make space for someone who isn't even there anymore."

"Oh." Ochako said as she began to frown. "Oh, Izuku. Why didn't you tell us? I had no idea you liked her that much. If I had known…" She trailed off.

He could think of a few reasons for why he hadn't said something, starting with the fact that it would have been a lie.

"Well, for once, it's a rather embarrassing thing to admit, you gotta be honest there."

Ochako disagreed with him, because of course she did. "No it isn't! It's not embarrassing to miss someone that has left you, especially considering how suddenly it all happened. And how out of the blue it all was, too."

"Hmm."

"You know I love Mei, but sometimes I could honestly strangle her with the way that she treated you during the breakup."

That was only partially the truth, Ochako hadn't fully disliked Mei, but she hadn't exactly been a fan, either. Yet, Izuku knew that Ochako had meant the other part.

"I appreciate your guys' concern, I really do, but you can't help me deal with this. It's a breakup, it's something I have to go through alone."

And there was nothing that Ochako could have said to refute it. She knew as well as him that what he had said was the truth, which was, of course, exactly what he had counted on.

"Just- promise to tell us when you go all quiet on us? So we don't have to start worrying about you when that happens?"

"I will." And for once he was confident in being able to keep a promise he made. If being kept up to date on his moods was all that she desired, he saw no reason as to why he wouldn’t be able to do it. He would manage to tell her that, as long as she didn’t ask for the specifics.

The rest of the car ride passed quickly. Ochako seemed finally more appeased now that she had gotten some answers (even if they weren't necessarily true), so their ride went by tacitly for the most part. The sun had tired all of them out.
When they pulled up into Izuku's street, Iida managed to magically wake himself at just the right instant to say his goodbye to Izuku. When Ochako and him had done the same, he made for his leave and Ochako settled into the drivers seat. He heard the engine of the car rev as he unlocked the front door and the three of them were all gone but a moment later.

It was as he was lying in his bed, curtains drawn close (as always), trying to find peace of mind in the comfort of sleep, yet failing to do so, when he was disturbed by the distinct ping sound of his phone alerting him to a new message.
He would have ignored it, if it hadn't been for the fact that that one ping didn't stay the only one. A few more followed so eventually he had enough motivation to look at who was messaging him then.

He should have guessed that it was Ochako. Slowly but surely more and more pictures of the days trip were showing up in his chat with her. Ah right, she had told him she would send them to him once she got back home.

It hadn't been his plan to look at them in that moment, with the memories of the day still fresh in his mind, but something had caught his eye. Among the pictures was one that Izuku didn't remember Ochako having taken.

It was a picture of him in the rose gardens. He wasn't paying attention to the camera, he hadn't even noticed it'd been on him at the time. Completely unaware of the watching eyes, the Izuku from a few hours ago was leaning down toward one of the rose bushes, seemingly admiring the blooming flowers. Izuku admittedly knew that this wasn't what had actually happened, admiring flowers, but from this picture alone you couldn't tell that.

And then it struck him. Suddenly he knew exactly where that feeling of deja vu had come from earlier. The flower. The rose pedals were split into alternating chunks of white and red, an uncommon breed. And one that reminded him of a certain someone he had met not that long ago.
He hadn't really allowed himself to think back to that cursed night, and even when he couldn't help it, he was mostly focused on an entirely different aspect of it, the one concerning Katsuki. So he had almost forgotten about what had happened previous to that.

He had almost forgotten about Shoto. The handsome stranger he had flirted with at the bar.

Shoto that had made him feel … better. Had made him feel connected to the present moment, the way a normal, regular person was. When he talked to Shoto, he'd briefly become someone that could go to a bar and flirt with a handsome stranger there. Without thinking about anything that hadn't concerned anything other than the current situation. Because there'd been nothing to even think about.

For the short duration of their conversation, Izuku had felt as if he was someone without a past. What could have become of him, if his life had turned out different at 15. A fictive version of himself not burdened with the memories that he carried around with himself like the clothes on his body. If only for a night, this was how he had felt. Utterly– okay. Normal. 

All of this thinking then made Izuku do something that he was sure to regret in the morning, but not right now. Right now he was forcing everythig inside of himself to stay put so he wouldn't lose his bravery.

Izuku still remembered a good bit of their conversation, also, what Shoto had said about his friends. That two of them owned the bar and promoted it on social media.

He exited the messenger app then and opened the only social media app he had to search for the name of the bar. He found it at first try. Fortunately for him, the account had the same username as the name of the bar itself with no variation to it.
When he clicked on the 'following' list, he didn't have to search long. The account only followed two other ones. The owners, no doubt. One of them had a man's name in the user. Izuku tentatively clicked on it but was disappointed upon seeing that it was a private account.
Internally, he was crossing his fingers as he clicked on the remaining account of the two. This one was a woman's account. Utsushimi Camie the bio read. Dimly he remembered Shoto mentioning a name of those sorts.

When Izuku saw that the account was public, he felt a small tug in the pit of his chest. Camie followed way more people than two. He had to scroll all the way down until he found Shoto's account. The profile picture was unassuming, if Izuku hadn't known it to be Shoto's account, he wouldn't have guessed from just that. It was a full body shot and Shoto was standing so far away from the camera that you couldn't make out any of his features besides the distinct hair.

Before Izuku could stop himself, before he could gather enough reason as to why he shouldn't do it, he found himself entering Shoto's dms typing a few words. He clicked sent the minute he finished typing his message.

And then all that was left for him to do was to wait for a response.

As the adrenalin rushed off, Izuku caught himself contemplating his actions. Was what he had done just now really the right thing to do?

He had to do little digging before he came up with an answer to that question. And as he reasoned with himself then, he knew he had made the right choice.

Because–

Because Izuku couldn’t let himself slip away again, not this time. There were things now that required him to stay afloat.
If he allowed himself to sink then he would for sure not be the only one going down.

He had made his mom go through this once already. And this time there were Ochako and Iida on his heels. He knew Ochako and Tenya. He had known them for more than fifteen years now, for fucks sake.
If he fell, they would definitely try to catch him. They were just too good as to not try. But they weren't good enough to succeed.
He didn't want to crush them with the impact.

Ever since coming back from the park, he had racked his brain for a way to find Katsuki, but what if that wasn't the right way to go at it? What if, maybe he needed to move on as well?

Katsuku had. He had spent ten years away from Izuku with ease. And look at how that served him. He had looked better than Izuku had ever seen him.

It might be time for Izuku to move on from what has happened in the past as well. Maybe he was the one who needed to draw a line and step over it now.

It’s not like he hasn’t tried. He’d done nothing but try just that for the past five years.
Now was possibly the time when it would work out for him. Now that he had seen Katsuki. Had seen that he was doing just fine without Izuku.

He needed to get himself distracted. And Shoto looked just like the right kind of distraction.

Chapter Text

Shoto had texted back that very same night. They had struck up a conversation, which didn’t last all that long, since they both needed to get up for work early the next day.

At the end, they settled on meeting each other after work and talking it out in person. And that's exactly what Izuku had planned for today’s afternoon. However, he first needed to go and get his work done and out of the way.

In the morning, it was business as usual. He went to the office (Jirou, bless that women, had luckily caught a cold and wasn't at the office that day), put in his hours there, all while hoping that his performance didn't give Aizawa any more reason for yet another talk, and then he got home.

Which was where the real problems had started.

What was he gonna wear to the not-date? One of his work suits, to show that he made an effort? Or one of his more casual dress shirts? To keep things free-and-easy, so as to not come across as imposing.

The night before, Izuku had been restless. Worry had been gnawing at him from the moment that he'd put his head on the pillow to the moment of him waking up. It had followed him into his dreams, too. He hadn't been able to sleep well in quite some time, but lately it's gotten worse. Not a lot, but noticeably so nonetheless.

It meant that he wasn't in the best of conditions to meet up with Shoto right now, he was tired, and his muscles hurt from god knew what, since it sure as hell wasn't exercise, but he wouldn't cancel their plans anymore. Not on such short notice, mere minutes before they were supposed to meet up.

Shoto had invited him to this cafe in Shibuya City, called the Nightingale. It was open even at late hours so it was perfect for the both of them, since they usually worked long shifts. And it was also close to both their workplaces, which was something that Shoto had insisted on. Izuku'd initially assured him that he was fine with driving a bit of a longer distance, but Shoto insisted on it, surprisingly chivalrous in that regard, though he wouldn't tell where exactly he worked at.

Before Izuku could change his mind, he picked a simple blue suit of the top of the laundry pile on his desk chair in his room, the one that stacked the clean laundry, not to be confused with the pile on his desk, which consisted of dirty laundry.

Since he wasn't planning on drinking tonight, he headed to his car instead of the metro and, once inside, typed the address into his phone.
On his way there, the radio kept playing old love songs. After the third one started airing, Izuku was positively irritaded, more so than he would usually be, so he turned it off and spent the remainder of the car ride in silence.

The coffee shop itself was easy to locate. Nightingale was written atop the doorway in big, blue, luminating letters, hence it was almost impossible to miss. Without further ado, Izuku headed inside and began fishing for his phone in his front pockets to text Shoto that he'd arrived. The answer came almost immediately. Waiting for you on the first floor. He texted back a quick Ok and put his phone back in his pocket.

Izuku hadn't noticed before, but the Nightingale did actually have two levels. The ground floor as well as an openly designed first floor. It felt almost like a huge loft. It was as his eyes roamed the place, in search for his non-date of the night, that he took in more of the furnishings. The walls were most likely a dark blue, possibly indigo. Izuku would have needed to see them in daylight to be able to tell with certainty. There was a huge windowfront all over one wall of the second floor. On the ground floor, most of the chairs were occupied, which was a little weird considering how late of an hour it was.
Finally, Izuku spotted a tall figure sat at one of the more secluded tables at the far end of the first floor, which looked suspiciously like the red-white haired man that Izuku had first met just over a week ago.

Izuku walked up the old-fashioned staircase and made straight for Shoto's table. Shoto saw him approach. When he was in earshot, he gretted him.

"Hello." Shoto's voice was warm. The same tone that izuku remembered from the bar. 

Izuku drew the chair opposite Shoto back "Hey."

He made to sit down then. Across from him, Shoto looked stunningly handsome. Izuku had already figured as much when he'd seen him at the bar, but you never knew with dimmed club lighting and dimming alcohol and all. He'd been so drunk his mind could have just as well played tricks on him. 

Shoto met Izuku's gaze with his sharp eyes, pupils slightly elated because of the muted lighting at their table. Izuku only noticed because they were sitting about an arms length away from each other.

He was wearing white again. Not a full suit, just the dress shirt of one. It sat a little loser than the one from the bar. The form fitting suit pants were black. All in all, it made for a casual look. Which, then again, possibly meant that Shoto didn't think of whatever they were doing here as a date. At the bar at least, he’d been more – dressed up.

Seeing Shoto in this state was all it took to make Izuku regret picking his own suit over a more infromal fit. He probably looked desperate now, like he was trying, and in that, too hard.

He felt so uncomfortable with the realization that, as he sat down, he curtly shrugged off his suit jacket to hang it over the chair, all while wondering what possessed him to put it on in the first place. Like, what did he think this was, a business proposal between two associates?

Shoto leaned forward and brought one of his arms on the table, "Did you find your way around?"

"Ah, yes. It was pretty easy to get here." Izuku smiled at him. At that point, smiling was a rehearsed movement, easy to pull off. It didn’t require much thought, let alone actual emotion.

"How was the traffic?"

"Quite managable. Surprisingly so, this time ‘round."

"That's good to hear."

"Yeah."

They fell into silence after that. With all of the pleasantries having been said, nothing came to mind for Izuku to add.

Shoto leaned further into his chair again, putting distance between him and Izuku. There was a lit candle between them that Izuku hadn't really paid attention to until now. In the heat of the flame, Shoto’s contours blurred as Izuku looked at him from over the flicker.

The silence stretched, until it was too long to go unnoticed, too palpable to be brushed over.

And with that, Izuku began second-guessing every single one of his decisions that led him to this point. It was quite possible, and his conviction in how possible exactly it was only increased by the second, that he hadn't made such a wise decision when he asked Shoto out for a … date? Well, non-date? They hadn't really specified in their text messages. Whatever meet up came before the hypothetical first date. A pre-first date then.

Izuku cleared his throat. Below the table, where Shoto couldn't see, he fiddled with the flaps of his suit jacket.

"Well, this place is nice. Do you come here often?"

Hadn’t it been for Shoto sitting right across from him, Izuku would have facepalmed then. He couldn’t have found a lamer conversation starter, could he?…

Shoto answered anyway, "Actually yes. It's quite convenient for after a shift, since it's so close to my workplace and my home. Saves me the trouble of cooking, too."

Now that Shoto said it, this place did seem like it was designed for office workers that wanted a place to relax at after a particularly long shift rather than for lovebirds coming here for their dates. He saw now, as he looked past the reiling, which divided the first floor from the gaping hole in the ground, and into the space below, that of the tables on there even had laptop stations and power outlets on them.

He mustn't have noticed until now, since before, he wasn't paying attention to this particular thing. Hadn't considered that Shoto’s location choice could mean something about what he thought this was.

When Izuku turned back to Shoto, he asked, “Are you friends with the owners here, too?” In jest. An attempt to further break the ice.

Still, it did surprise Izuku when Shoto answered him with a matter-of-fact Yes.

Perking up, Izuku smirked, "Do you know all of Shibuya's entertainment and gastronomy business owners somehow?"

For the first time that night, Shoto smiled. A comfortable, relatively broad smile that lasted for all of four seconds. He'd been friendly before, albeit reserved. This was the first instance this night in which it felt like he was at ease, like he was comfortable sitting there with Izuku.

Seeing that open smile now did something to Izuku's anxiety, it eased it a little bit.

"No, I only know them because I come here so frequently. I think they know all of their regulars, so it’s not like that’s anything special."

Izuku would have replied something to that, but the waiter, who before had been lurking a few tables away from them, reached their’s now, and politely inquired for their orders.
Both of them ordered a light diner along with a drink. Unlike Izuku, Shoto didn’t even have to look inside the menu for it. When Izuku did, he was shocked to see that the prices here greatly overstepped what he considered to be within his price range.

This moment was so far probably the point in time when he most regretted drinking so much at the bar last weekend.
Though he hadn’t allowed himself to check his balance, yet, he was still aware that his little escapade had put a considerable dent in his wallet.
And as it looked, he certainly wasn't going to be able to fix it anytime soon. Not with those prices he wasn't.

Well, whatever. He’d think about that later. Right now, there where other, more urgent matters to tend to. Resigning to his fate, Izuku exhaled before bringing his gaze back on Shoto to resume their conversation.

They talked about nothing in particular for a while. Topics included, uppermost: the weather (it was drizzling), after that: the Nightingale itself (Shoto had discovered it two years ago and the interior was supposed to resemble the estate of some old local japanese nobleman from 200 years ago). It went on like this for quite a bit, just jumping from one light-hearted topic to the next, until the waiter returned with their orders. When their food was finally at their table, Shoto seemed ready to tackle the elephant in the room.

"I was quite happy to see that you messaged me. I'd thought I must have somehow scared you off with the way that you ran at the bar,” Clearing his throat, he paused for a bit before he added, “I was meaning to ask, did I do something wrong?"

It would be an understatement to say that Izuku was surprised to hear that. He’d expected Shoto to say a lot, but this was not something he’d seen coming. Did he honestly think that he had done something wrong?

"Oh no, that didn't have anything to do with you. It was… something private. It's honestly hard to explain, but I can at least assure you that it wasn't about you. At all."

"It's a relief to hear that." Shoto admitted.

Seeing as Shoto was being so honest and vulnerable with him, Izuku figured it was probably a good time for him to come forth with one of his own worries. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "I hope it wasn't to weird of me, that I messaged you after."
Towards the end of his sentence, he had to clear his throat once. His voice had sounded a little more timid than he had intended.

This time, it was Shoto who reassured him, "Not at all. I like it when people are direct." He placated Izuku, with an air of playfulness he added, "And, truthfully, I'd wanted to ask for your number, anyway."

"That so?" Izuku raised a brow.

"Yeah" Shoto smiled.

It wasn't long after that until they dropped the pretense all together.

If it was even humanly possible, Shoto straighted up in his seat. He'd already been sitting rather neatly before, it surprised Izuku that there was a one up to that, "In your messages you said that there was something else you'd want to talk about. So, what exactly is it?"

Not for the first time that day, Izuku felt as a familiar desire rose in him. The want to be inebriated, at least a little bit. Just enough to take off the edge. At least then it would be easier for him to talk about what this conversation was leading up to.

He really wasn't good at social interaction. Right now, it was absolutely beyond him how he'd come to think that he'd be able to have this talk with Shoto without drinking something beforehand. Damn the overly confident person that he must have been when he had scheduled this meet up with Shoto.

Without his permission, his right leg started whipping, in tune with the nervous beat of his heart. He really, really hoped that Shoto wouldn't notice.

He managed to find his voice at last.

"I like you. I mean– I liked our conversation at the bar. I felt quite pleasant talking to you, and I had the inclination that we got along well." He rambled out all in a single breath.

There it was, out in the open ...

The confession hung heavy in the space between them. Like an out of control wrecking ball, swinging ominously between their heads from one side of the table to the other, and back and forth. A physical, palbable force. It was poison for Izuku's nerves. And the effect held on until the moment that Shoto replied.

"I feel the same."

That's good. That's great, actually.

It gave Izuku the confidence to continue with his next point, "I really had fun talking to you." He started, "And I'd like to see what more it could become."

The corner of Shoto's lip twitched upward, "What is it you have in mind?"

And here it was. The moment for Izuku's proposition. This was what he'd been leading up to the entire time. This little offer could make or break the night. He needed to be careful in wording it correctly.

"I'd like to be honest with you, Shoto, right from the start. I'm not exactly looking for something serious at the moment. Relationship-wise I mean." Without meaning to, Izuku averted his gaze as he said the last words, "Would that be okay with you?"

The wording, Izuku was sure, was clear enough. He'd spent half of the previous night mentally going over how he'd wanted this conversation to go eventually, he'd decided on laying it as plainly as it was. Best not to make it sound unnecessarily romantic for the sake of making it more tempting.

Shoto stayed quiet for a long time, seemingly in thought about what Izuku had suggested, before he answered him.

"That's okay with me. Actually, I think it's better this way for me too."

Izuku couldn't filter the surprise from his voice, "Really?"

"Really."

"So, just to make sure that we're on the same page here. No-strings-attached-seeing-each-other it is?"

"Yes, exactly."

Shoto looked like he wanted to add more to what he said, but as the seconds passed nothing followed, so Izuku let the topic slip.

Instead, they talked about other things. Now that the cards where on the table, it was easier for them to converse. After all, there was a whole lot to find out about the person that you were going to be seeing in the near future. It presented an entirely new list of conversations to be had. They handled those quite successfully.

When it was time for them to leave, Izuku made to call for the bill, but Shoto stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh, that wont be necessary. I already payed for our meals."

"Oh?"

Izuku couldn't remember when that had happened, so he asked Shoto "When has that happened?"

Shoto picked up his suit jacket from his chair as he answered him, "I always pay at the beginning of my meals here. I did it while I was waiting for you to come."

Izuku also gathered his things and together, they made for their leave. Shoto's explanation seemed to make sense, at first glance. There was but one thing that didn't quite add up.

"But how would you know what I'd be ordering?"

"I didn't exactly know. I just left an amount that was I convinced would cover more than your meal. With the change being the tip."

Oh. Oh.

"Thank you." Izuku just said, hoping that he sounded more grateful than baffled, though he was experiencing both of those feelings equally at the moment. So Shoto had money…

They decided to go for a walk after. Through the windowfront they'd noticed when it had stopped drizzling halfway through their stay at the café.

Shibuya wasn't exactly an oasis of nature, but it still made for a nice scenery on their walk. This part of Shibuya at least was a lot nicer than Izuku's neighborhood. And ultimately, taking this walk with Shoto was more appealing than spending the rest of the night alone in his flat, where he had nothing to occupy himself with except for his own thoughts. He'd be able to do that all he wanted tomorrow. And the day after that. And after that, and so on.

Even outside, their conversation didn't halt once. The rain had cooled down the earth a discernable degree, Izuku noticed then. To add to that, there was a slight breeze blowing, which, under normal circumstances, would have hardly been noteworthy. Today however, coupled with the cooler temperatures, it made him start trembling softly almost immediately as they stepped out of the café. He made an effort to conceal it from Shoto who, unlike Izuku, didn't seem fazed by the temperatures in the slightest.

"So, if we want to get to know each other better, which I'm assuming is something that we want to do," Shoto gave him a funny look, which seemed to say that he'd be down either way, "Then we should start telling each other a little more about us."

Whilst Shoto declared that, they walked through one of the shopping streets, past neon signs, lit buildings, food vendors and other shops.
It never did get fully dark around here in Shibuya. No matter when, there was always a light on somewhere.

"I suppose you are correct in that." Izuku hummed.

"Let's start with someting personal, yeah?" Shoto leveled him with a considering gaze, "I don't peg you for the type to keep things hidden for long."

Izuku asnwered with a nod, despite not fully aggreeing with that assessment, "Sure, ask away"

"Why aren't you looking for anything serious at the moment?"

Silence followed. It lasted all of three steps.

It was the curious, completely void of judgement way of Shoto asking this question, that made Izuku want to answer it truthfully. And not lie, which would have been his first thought, usually.

"It's got nothing to do with you, honestly. It's just that …" he halted, suddenly struck by an upcoming concern. Was it really a good idea to tell Shoto about that? This early on? It certainly wouldn't make the best first impression.

"Will you end our date right now when I tell you that I have a complicated past?"

For a moment, Shoto looked at him in genuine surprise, but he regained his composure almost immediately, "No, not at all."

Izuku looked at him questioningly, "Then, why'd' you look so surprised just now?"

"I just didn't think you'd have a troubled past. You don't look the part."

It was funny, really, that, even though this was Izuku's intention – it was the reason as to why he was always putting on a show for the people around him. Why he acted fine infront of others and himself when he knew he wasn't. Funny that – it still always surprised him to find out that it worked. That he managed to fool people into thinking that he was untroubled. Unburdened.

That it was even possible for him to cover it up.

That Katsuki was concealable.

It was like, punching a hole into your living room wall, and hanging a picture over afterwards. Of course the picture wouldn't truly fix it.
After all, you'd know that the hole was still there.

And every winter, you'd feel the uncomfortable waft of cold air entering your home. You'd notice as the cold, that creeped into your house through the hole, came to wrap around your body, sink into your skin, settle in your bones, and you'd be reminded that it was there. The hole.

Only the guests in your house wouldn't know. They might notice the chilliness, the cool temperatures, the change, but they'd never find out about that hole, how it go there. With the picture there, they'd stay unsuspecting.

"Sorry, I know this thing between us shouldn't become anything complicated. I wouldn't want you to get the impression, with me telling you all this, that I'm not ready for … casual." Izuku sighed.

"I wouldn't worry if I were you. I'm sure I wont get that impression. After all, I'm the one who asked the question" Shoto shrugged his shoulders in walking, "If you want to, I can even be the one to start."

They turned a corner, and Izuku waited until they were done, before asking, "With what?"

"With the complicated past. With the things that could potentially deter you from continuing to see me. Things that could give you the impression that I'm the one who's not ready for something casual."

"Oh, okay."

Izuku couldn't make up his mind about what to respond, as the newest revelation about Shoto's life being anything other than perfect surprised him quite a big deal. He prided himself with never jumping the gun on his perceptions of people, but now he realized that he might have done just that with Shoto.

Generally, Shoto gave off the impression that his life was nothing short of pristine. That he had a strong grip on and full reins over it. Izuku, more than anyone else, should have known that appearances are deceptive little minxes.

Shoto was oblivious to Izuku's inner turmoil, continuing undisturbed, "I have a complicated relationship with my father. And my mother, too, I suppose. Though it is ultimately better than the one with my father." They passed another passersby on the sidewalk and Izuku had to briefly walk infront of Shoto to make it fit.

After the short interruption, Shoto went on, "The interaction between my father and I is very … tension stricken. I mean, we barely talk. Most days. But we work together. So a potential for conflict always remains."

Izuku answered in the same fashion as Shoto, because honestly? It was true. "You also don't look the part, may I say."

A low chuckle reverberated from somewhere in Shoto's chest, and he turned his head to the side slightly, likely an involuntary movement, "I'm not so sure about that."

Huh? What was that supposed to mean?

Izuku's curiosity got the better of him and he found himself inquiring an explanation of Shoto. Aware that astonishment was probably etched into his features then.

Izuku might have let himself be deceived by Shoto's general put together appearance, but, neglecting that, Shoto still looked rather comely, almost as if there was an air of sophistication innate to him. Something that was unerasable. As much a part of him as the toes on his feet and the hair on his head.
If Izuku were to try, he'd have a rather hard time imagining Shoto in any way that comes even just somewhat close to uncomely.

"That's where I got my scar from." Shoto didn't follow what he'd said up with a further explanation, which, if you asked Izuku, was direly needed. But no, he didn't elaborate, just let that statement linger between the two of them. And it made Izuku think.

Izuku had of course noticed the scar, even back at the bar, but seeing it hadn't prompted him into wondering about where Shoto might have gotten it from.
As it was, it looked more like a birthmark than a scar, anyhow. Izuku must have subconsciously assumed it to have come by due to natural happenings.

"Oh. Okay. Shit. Now I'll have to be upfront with you, too, do I?" Izuku inquired, while swallowing around the lump in his throat.

"That'd be greatly appreciated."

Well, here went nothing.

With one uneasy, deep breath Izuku steeled himself. And then he told Shoto about – about the one thing, that he had actually promised himself he would never talk about to anyone ever again. And why did he tell Shoto? Because it's been ten years and he couldn't help but question what good silence had done him so far? Because – nothing was the same anymore. Now that Katsuki wasn't dead.

"There was this person once. For a very long time they'd been an important part of my life quite some time. I had thought that we would stay together for ... well, always. Only that it wasn't the case. And, I've just never quite learned how to let go off them." Izuku chuckled, half in nervosity, half in bitterness, "To my defense, I thought that they had died. And I never had the chance to say my goodbyes."

Izuku had to stop here, to remind himself to take another breath, as he was afraid that, if he were to go on without doing so, his voice would break off into something akin to a pained croak.

After a few seconds, he was ready to continue, "I think, maybe, I should have technically gotten over it by now, but– I'm just not. Because, recently I found out that, by whatever miracle it was that saved them, they're still alive."

Shoto sighed, and when Izuku looked, his expression was one of sympathy but not pity, and no malaise, "That seems like like a mouthfull. It must have been hard to process that."

Izuku shrugged, "It's making everything a bit more complicated, at the moment, I must admit. Hence I don't think starting a relationship would be the best idea for me right now."

"I can really understand that."

Dejection overcame Izuku then, "And I can totally understand if you don't want to continue this thing with me now that–"

"Can I ask you something, Izuku?" Shoto interjected before Izuku could finsih his sentence.

Despite his confusement, Izuku leveled Shoto with a look in his eyes that meant to say that he was free to go.

Shoto caught on, "Are you appalled? Now that you know my background Story? What I'm struggling with?"

Izuku was quick to argue this, "I mean, no– Im not, no. I would never-"

"Me neither." Shoto said flatly.

Oh. Uhm, well, if it was put like that...

Izuku tried to find a way to argue with that logic, but he came up empty handed. And no matter the amount of digging he did, he found no reason to question Shoto's conviction. So he didn't try it any further, as he thought doing so would only serve to insult Shoto.
If Izuku had been so fast at contradicting Shoto's question, then what right did he have to do question Shoto on this? He had none.

As Shoto had made his point, Izuku made sure to not bring up the topic any more after that instance.
They used the little time they could both still spare to talk about what came to mind, but nothing earth shattering. No more big revelations were being made that night. No, they just exchanged minor trivia on their lives by that point to get to know each other a little further.
And it was pleasant. Izuku enjoyed the night. As much as he was capable of enjoying something. Which was, not as much as he was ought to, but still enough that that night in particular stood out in comparison to all the ones he'd been having recently.

Well, he supposed that, in direct contrast to the shit awful week he'd had just now, it didn't take much for a night to be considered better than that. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the way things had turned out with Shoto. How easy it had been to secure something for himself that he desperately hoped would be a breath of fresh air and would bring about a change of any sorts, really, albeit he admittedly hoped it'd be a positive one.

They decided to end their date after that walk. Shoto had accompanied him back to his car and they said their goodbyes with a first tentative kiss that promised for more good things to come in the future. Nothing major at that, but still pleasant.

On his drive home, Izuku didn't take the chance with listening to the radio. The device decidedly stayed silent. Although he supposed he was in a bit of a better constitution by that point than he'd been at the beginning of the night, so this time he would have been capable of listening to at least four old love songs before switching the radio off.

He'd managed to preserve his easy mood until the moment he entered his bedroom at little more than zero o'clock.
It was then that he came to understand the meaning of the evening he had just spent. It was then that he understood that he had already taken the first step in what he considered to be his idea of moving on. From Katsuki.

And that's exactly what he wanted, right?

That was the one thing that he had striven for ever since he was nineteen and had found out about childhood friend's departure.
Ever since he had known what loss meant, he'd been trying to figure out how moving on worked.

Could it be that he finally figured out how to achieve just that? Moving past it?

It seemed that way.

There was no logical explanation for why this exact realization made him so sad. Hadn't he always wanted this? Finally being granted the ability to move on? To no longer feel like someone had pressed pause on his life and forgot to press resume, so he was forced to spend the rest of his days there, stuck in between those two moments? Waiting for a resume that would never come. Whilst knowing just that deep down.

So why then did it feel like his air circulation cut off at the thought of finally letting Katsuki go? Why was he questioned if he could really even do it? Scatter him like ashes in the wind? Watch and let it happen as the currents of his subconscious carried him away into oblivion?

Could he really stomach it?

Maybe, just maybe, it was harder for him to contemplate the thought now because now unlike before there was an actual chance of getting Katsuki back. Now that he wasn't actually dead.
The chance of seeing him again was small, sure, but that chance was still infinitely more than Izuku had had in the entirety of the last decade.

Suddenly, he understood precisely what it was that tormented him just now. A part of him, the size of which was enourmous, was ready to move on. Leave Katsuki in the past, a place where they had already had to say goodbye once before.

A much smaller yet louder part of him, perilously close to his chest area, wasn't ready yet. Because this part screamed for closure. That part told him that he owed it to himself to try for one last time.

He owed it to the version of himself that had, for the past six years, done nothing but drown in its grief for Katsuki. Every day anew.

If he didn't try it now when, for the first time in forever, the odds didn't categorically rule out success from the get go, he knew he'd come to regret it at some point.

He thought to himself, as he opened the laptop on his desk, which he usually only used for work related stuff, that if he came across anything right now, just the teeniest tiniest little thing that could help him in his mission to find Katsuki, he would scrape his plan with Shoto on the spot. Get all of that out of his head. Never contact Shoto again.
And he'd just do everything in his power to find Katsuki, wouldn't give up before that happened.

The words he typed into the search bar were old acquaintances. The hand movement a flowing memory of his finger muscles. He didn't even have to think about it as it happened. Before he knew it, Bakugo Katsuki was written into the search bar.
In those inconspicuous black letters that didn't give the slightest idea of what importance those words had for him, the meaning they held.

He pressed enter. The page loaded, but his wifi was slow. Izuku's stomach dropped. His fingers twitched minutely under the weight of his own nervosity. The page was finally done loading. The results of his search began to appear on his display one after the other.

It took Izuku a whopping three seconds to register that he had once again managed to disappoint himself. Had managed to injure the little stunted scraps that were still left of his heart.

He'd been wrong once again.

The search results, of course, showed only the articles that he knew all too well. The results that showed up were already a few years old. The most recent one of them being an article from when Katsuki must have been 15, and that one was already an outlier. It had been published at a time well after the prime of the investigation.

About one and a half years after Katsuki's disappearance, news about the boy gone missing had entirely ceased to pop up when Izuku googled for them. Which he, back then with 17, had done at least once a day. Mostly, more than that.
Izuku didn't exactly know why that was. Probably due to a lack of new hints or evidence. The investigation had trailed off into nowhere, so it had probably been an economic consideration to cut it short.

The next sensation he felt was all too familiar. It was predictable, really, because it always happened whenever he'd gotten his hopes up, only to be inevitably let down.

His heart did one painful jump then, the way it felt when you suddenly hit your head. Pain that you didn't see coming. That made you halt in your tracks. That made you forget about anything else while it lasted. He had to close his eyes for a moment to successfully endure the exertion that suddenly overcame him.
Propped up on his knees with his elbows, he put his head in his hands and began, as he often did, to sob entirely without tears.

When Katsuki had gone, Izuku lost more than just his childhood best friend. Katsuki took parts of Izuku with him the day that news about his 'death' had made their way to him.

Among the things Izuku lost was his ability to cry, or more so, to let the tears flow. Whatever part of the body was responsible to coordinate that task, it had shut down the day that Katsuki 'died'.

That had been the last time Izuku remembered to have cried. Truly cried. With loud, pained sobs and all. Tears and snot running down his face. Shoulders heaving and aching under the heavy breaths he'd pulled, because breathing had felt like suffocating.
After that day, things – changed.

Even if he wanted to cry then, was actively trying to cry, – and moments like that hadn't been sparse since Katsuki's departure – he simply wasn't able to.

As if something inside him had irreversibly dried up, and a sultry desert had spread there instead.
Some synapses in him had lost contact with each other irreparably.

The urge to cry still overcame him at unprotected moments. That wasn't where the problem lied.
The urge was undeniably there, he just wasn't able to do anything with it, couldn't process it the way he used to.

Most days, he felt like– like a glass that was constantly filled to the brim. Always on the brink of overflowing, but never actually.
No disturbance was ever big enough to reach him and make him spill over so he could finally, finally be less full.
Nothing ever penetrated the surface. Nothing reached him on the inside, pierced him where it really mattered.

Nothing fazed him.
Nothing got to him.

He wished desperately for it, but that's the one thing it never did.

He was hypersensitive, yet paralized. He was numb, but not actually, not in the way that he desired to be.

Gods, he was so tired of being stunted. He was so, so tired of it.

He was so sick of being this disfunctional excuse of an actual person, who couldn't even remember the last time they had a good day. A really good one. One where, unlike usually, he didn't also underlyingly feel like shit.

Actually, when was the last time he woke up in a good mood without the tides turning on him within the first half an hour of being awake?

Probably...

Probably when Katsuki still woke up next to him almost every morning, since he didn't want to sleep under the same roof as his parents.

How much longer was he able to endure this?

He couldn't stand it. Being as sad as he was, all the time. He'd reached his limit on it. He wouldn't be able to handle much more.

He went to sleep not long after that. He lacked the energy to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth, purge his mouth of all of the food he'd eaten at the restaurant with Shoto. Something that already felt like it had happened a lifetime ago.

After what felt like an eon of restlessness, of tossing and turning, and fighting the urge to stand up and get himself something to drink at the nearby gasstation, sleep came to him, albeit it was a treacherous one.

Izuku dreamed that night. And he was aware that he was dreaming, because he wasn't truly dreaming when it came down to the technicalities of it.

It was a memory. One that he could recognize instantly. This wasn't new for him.

He could make out the street he was walking down with little thought. It was a broad road, one of the broadest of the little village that was his hometown.
When he was younger, he used to think that it was a highway. It took him another few years to realize that highways are the streets that lead you out of the village and into some better place.

The street that he was walking down connected his hometown to it's biggest neighboring town of the area. It was the same city in which his mom taught the elementary shool kids and where he, too, went to school.
Big for this area meant that the village had a population of a little more than 5000 people and also harbored marginally more infrastructure than the rest of the villages in the area, including one of the only two schools of the region.
The sky looked bright, but the sun was already in recession. He was walking home.

Up until now, his mom had insisted on accompanying him any time their schedules alligned, but Izuku had recently turned seven, which meant that he was officially an older child now.
He didn't need to be walked home by his mom anymore.
That was only for the babies, the first graders. He was a second grader as of this summer, so he had gotten his mom to promise him that he was allowed to get home by himself from now on.

He'd been on this path enough times by now to know that it wouldn't be long anymore before he was home.
He just needed to get to the end of this road and then some, and after that he should be there.

Sluggishly, he put one foot in front of the other, making sure to always stay behind the road boundary where it was safe to walk, the way the adults had taught him.

If only it weren't so hot...

Autumn had already begun, and yet, the temperatures hadn't dropped. It was 30 degrees Celcius, his mom had told him earlier this morning, which was a bit unusual for Japan.

At least in his seven years of life, Izuku had not yet experienced an autumn this hot.

He was sweating bullets in his elementary school uniform, even though he had already taken off the blue blazer ages ago, leaving him clad in only his shirt, the thinner white undershirt and the blue shorts.
If it went on like this, he'd have to tell his mom to at least leave out the undershirt next time.

Once he'd be at home he could get himself a popsicle from the fridge and sit in the garden to rest under the shade of the pagoda tree which had been in there for as long as Izuku could remember.

Well, maybe that wasn't all that he could do today, now that he thought about it.

A few weeks prior, his mom had told him a lot about the new class she was teaching, including a boy named Katsuki with blonde hair that stuck out in all directions. But unlike Izuku's hair the boy's hair wasn't curly, but very pointed. Izuku had a hard time picturing it, so anytime he did think about it, it resembled the fur of a hedgehog. It wasn't an unflattering image, Izuku quite liked it, actually. Hedgehogs were cool.

Katsuki (Izuku's mind turned over the three syllables in muted interest, not many people were called Katsuki where he lived) was a bit of a loner. And a troublemaker, too, Inko had said.
That's why she had recently 'suggested' for Izuku to befriend him.

Which was what Izuku intended to do. He had no objections concerning the matter. There wasn't such a thing as too many friends, if you asked him.
And if Katsuki was apparently a bit of a rascal, then all the better. At least that meant they could be having fun together.

Inko also told him that Katsuki was from the same village as them. If he was lucky, he could ask some of his neighbors if they knew a boy named Katsuki and where he lived.

The thought of possibly making a new friend that day gave Izuku so much joy that he unknowkingly accelerated, now walking with almost twice the speed he'd had been a minute ago.

He was moving so fast now that he almost didn't see it when a stone, rolling low on the ground, shot straight into his way.

Only at the last second and with difficulty was he able to dodge the low-flying projectile. Had someone accidentally overlooked him and therefore shot the stone so close to his feet?
Puzzled, he looked up in the direction the stone had come from, looking for the culprit.

He didn't have to search long. A few yards away from him, at the end of the street, stood a boy, grinning at him with a cheeky twinkle in his eye.
The strange boy was about as tall as Izuku, maybe a bit taller even. His hair stood out in all directions. Although he appeared to be the same age as Izuku, he, unlike Izuku, wasn't wearing a school uniform.
He recognized him immediately. How couldn't he? As he had literally just thought of him.

What a lucky coincidence.

Walking up to the boy, Izuku lifted his hands in a greeting fashion. Without much quarreling, he decided to face the matter head on.

"Are you Katsuki?"

It seemed that, instantly, the young boy's expression changed. Had he, before Izuku asking, looked amused and at peace with himself, his face now mirrored the opposite of those feelings. The glint in his eyes had been exchanged with a warier one. He was on guard.

"Why do you want to know?"

For a moment Izuku thought about how to best explain the situation. "My mom told me about you." He settled on eventually.

"Bet she did. Darn gossip, just like the rest of the neighborhood moms." The boy huffed.

Izuku couldn't help but be a little affronted at the slight jab at his mom, but it was all in all not something he hadn't expected. Inko had warned him that Katsuki liked to be brazen. Still, he wondered why the boy would assume that people in the neighborhood talked about him. As far as Izuku was concerned, the Bakugo's had just moved here after all.

"My mom isn't a gossip. She is a teacher." He clarified dignifiedly. "And she also said that you haven't made friends yet."
Izuku thought this to be a great way to lead into the topic that he wanted to talk about, namely him offering his friendship to the strange boy. That was the next step.
He was about to open his mouth to say just that when the other boy cut him off in an angry tone.

"Huh? And who do you think you are?"

The boy, Katsuki, came closer now. The anger seemingly overruling the wary from before. With a scornful expression, Katsuki eyed him up. Until his gaze settled on some point on Izuku's chest. It was when Katsuki began speaking again, that he realized that he was looking at the name tag that was attached to Izuku's school uniform. He was reading it out loud.

"Izu .. ku. Izuku." The boy hummed. "Hah, did you know that Izuku can also be read as Deku?"

"I-"

Izuku hadn't known that. He wasn't all that great with Kanji yet.

"Deku means useless." The boy went on, a self assured little smile now breaking out at the edges of his mouth, "Useless. Why don't you go back to your mom, Useless, and keep talking useless crap with her?"

Izuku didn't know how to react. It had never happened to him that someone had so instantly taken an obvious dislike to him.
What was he supposed to answer him? Did he still want to be friends with that boy?

He had no idea. And an answer to those questions wouldn't come to him no matter how long he pondered on it.

That day, he had turned away from Katsuki without giving him a response to his request. His shouders had been slumped during the entire time it took him to get home. Tears had gathered at the corners of his eyes the moment Katsuki had spoken the words and Izuku had seen him grin in that insolent, spiteful way. The one that had said that Katsuki wanted the words to hurt.

Only when his mom had come home a little later and he told her about what had transpired, he started feeling better.
She had made them sit together under the pagoda tree then, each of them eating a popsicle. Inko's was blue, as she preferred blueberry flavor, and Izuku's was red, watermelon.

It was she who had made him see the encounter with different eyes. It was her efforts that he needed to praise for helping him regain the necessary courage to keep persuing the friendship with Katsuki.

Inko had known that this wasn't supposed to be the end of it. That it was only the beginning. She had known it.

It took him three more weeks before they were friends, but after that, the two were inseparable. And it felt as though each had never been without the other.
The two of them were only seen together from then on. Back then, it had only been Izuku and Katsuki.
It was almost a rule that in their hometown one boy's name was seldom spoken without the other's name not immediately being spoken in succession.

Though Katsuki kept calling him Deku, Izuku found that he didn't mind anymore after a while, as the meaning of it gradually changed for the both of them.

Izuku hadn't minded being Katsuki's Deku. The same way that Katsuki didn't mind being Kacchan.
At least for Izuku, he never had minded.

Chapter Text

Izuku was at the office, and once again, things were more fine than they had been all weekend. Once again, work gave him something to concentrate on that wasn't in any relation to Katsuki. It gave him a different focal point.

Three and a half weeks had passed since his first date with Shoto and the dream that he'd had that night. After that, something had changed.

Izuku would have never thought he could remember it that well. But the dream had felt so real and so crystal clear that when he woke up the first thing he had done was to run to his bathroom mirror just to make sure he was still 25 year old Izuku and not seven, as he'd been in the memory.

Dreams like that hadn't been a rarity for Izuku before. On the contrary, it was common for him to at night encounter all that he'd tried to outrun during the day.
However, something really had changed.
Until now, his dreams had always taken place within the realm of what if. What if: Katsuki never had left? What if: Katsuki would come back right this moment?
And so on and so forth. It was relatively easy to cast them away the morning after. There was no use in contemplating the what if's after all, as there was little chance of them becoming reality.
The dreams he had now, however, were of a different kind entirely. As they were, by definition, more memories than dreams. Those, in fact, that he'd been doing a good job at hiding inside for almost a decade.
Things he hadn't thought about since he was 16 or, in rare cases, 19. Ironically, they were more unpredictable than anything that had come before them, even though he had literally experienced it all at some point.

It's just that Izuku had done a damn good job of suppressing those memories until now.
He'd always known things to be there, locked up by his own doings, inside some unaissailably sheltered fold of his mind, but he'd so far been spared of the contents. All he knew was that they all were in relation to Katsuki, but he'd never contemplated the details past that point. Until now. His dreams forced him to do just that now.

He had begun to dread sleep more than anything else.
What had once been his safe haven had, without his knowing it, turned into a rocky cove with breakneck waves.

Still, it was useless trying to supress the dreams. This time, his efforts proved to be futile.
He thought that maybe he had gone on for too long doing this. Dodging hits as they came.
At some point the effectivity just had to wear off, after all.
He had finally reached that limit, his mind just refusing to help him out there.

But he was at work, so it was okay. For the time being.

He scratched at his cheek with his left hand, and found that he'd have to shave again soon, while reaching for the coffee mug on his table with the right. Plus Ultra it read in bold black letters, on the otherwise plain mug. Jirou had bought it for him three months into their working arrangement.
Him not wanting to buy a mug for himself had been a subject for merciless teasing on her part. He hadn't wanted to yet as it would then only remind him of this place, which seemed a foolish thing to do, as he wasn't even sure if he would score a permanent position. Of course she didn't know about his inner conflict concerning the matter and had no such qualms when buying him the mug.
Now that he had the mug, he was grateful for it. In case that, by the end of this week, he would find out that he was being let off, and he'd have to take it home to store it in his own kitchen cabinet, it would remind him of her kindness instead of a missed career opportunity.

Today was Wednesday. There were only two more days left until he'd find out about HR's decision, whether he'd be unemployed by Friday.
His nerves were on edge, unoccupied fingers now rappidly tapping the keyboard, and he couldn't say that the coffein was helping much. It was his third cup of the day.

"So where are we gonna eat today?" Jirou called from the other end of their shared office.

They'd been having pleasant on and off conversations all morning. And every time she would ask or tell him something, Izuku made sure to answer in a calm and timely manner, pretending that his mind didn't feel like a barrel with a leak that he couldn't place, slowly and mindlessly emptying, drop by drop. Drip, drip, drip.

"What about that new place Yaoyorozu recommended?" Izuku suggested.

A hum resounded from somewhere further behind Izuku's computer. "Good idea. I've been meaning to check that out for a while now. Never got around though."

And they did just that when their shared lunch break caught up with them half an hour later. An upside to it was that the food was quite nice. The downside was that pretending to be upbeat was always harder for Izuku when they weren't at the office, as there weren't two computer displays propped between their faces, hiding his expression from the other woman.
At their lunch breaks off their work site, he had to supervise his every action and second-guessed them nonetheless. He was surprised even himself, that he'd managed to evade any suspicion so far, neither from Jirou and nor, thank god, from Aizawa. After that second ominous talk, he hadn't heard from his boss again.

Ochako hadn't said anything to him, either. Ever since that one portentious conversation in the car, she hadn't brought the topic up again. The three of them did text each other a few times in the group chat they were in, because the couple wanted to share more wedding updates with him. Izuku stayed true to his promise and did the best he could to respond and give his opinion when Ochako asked about it.

Thankfully, once he and Koyka got back to the office, things got easier for him again. And he spent the rest of the day diligently at work.

Work was always a nice antidote to him getting into a spiral about Katsuki. He wasn't so lucky when he got home though. Where silence greeted him and nothing else could take away his attention.

That's when Shoto came into play. He helped with that, too. Spending time with him, just like work, kept Izuku from thinking too much about his past.

In the three and a half weeks that passed since Shoto and him had started to see each other, Izuku had come to learn quite a lot about the other man, already. Shoto worked, like, a lot. To the point that it was bordering on workaholism, but as far as Izuku could tell his job didn't really cut into any of his leisure time. Shoto still maintained a healthy personal life. He's told Izuku about his friends on numerous occasions already, apparently they did regularly meet up and Shoto, no matter how busy work was, always managed to make time and space for that. Said he appreciated his friends a lot.

How exactly Shoto made time for Izuku as well as for his friends, Izuku had no idea. So far the two of them had seen each other on every weekend, and sometimes even the week days, and things were going rather well, if Izuku was to comment on it. Fast too, but it was no problem that they were rushing it, as this thing they had wasn't a thing meant for the ages, both of them knew it.

At least, meeting up with Shoto had so far stopped him from picking up a bottle again. He was quite thankful for that side effect.

He was going to see Shoto today, actually. He was to come to Shoto's flat to hang there. They planned on ordering take out and watching a movie, though they hadn't been able to unanimously decide on one yet.

It would be the first time that any of them went to the other person's place. Izuku was admittedly more than a little nervous. Despite the fact that it is easy to converse with the other man, and had in the past three weeks made for quite pleasant evenings, Izuku was still aware of the fact that Shoto was ... well, Shoto.
Possibly rich, possibly very successful.
Possibly had been raised in spheres that Izuku would not just possibly, but most likely never get the chance to enter.

Shoto might not have made any efforts to draw out this difference between them, but it was still pretty noticeable. It showed in the way that he carried himself. His suits. In the way he held a conversation. His observant, overly assured, yet completely unfazed, laid back way of talking.

At first, seeing this difference between them had compelled Izuku into trying to up his game. He wore fancier dress shirts to their meet ups. Not exactly to impress Shoto, but as to not feel so inadequate next to the other man.
All in an effort to make the gap between them less noticeable, but he realized soon enough that Shoto didn't care much for social status, or posh upbringings. Those things were all trivial to him.

So Izuku stopped dressing fancy. Today, he was back at wearing his plain white T-Shirt with the even plainer pants. In this at least he found a little bit of comfort, and he clung to it on the car ride to Shoto's flat.

Shoto lived in a part of Shibuya that, incredibly, shared a name with him. The neighborhood was called Shoto, too. When Shoto had sent him the message with his address, Izuku at first had thought him to be joking, but Izuku was promptly assured that no, Shoto wasn't joking, he was actually being serious. After that Izuku had asked if it had been an intentional decision to move there, but he was told that, no, it wasn't.
If you asked Izuku, that seemed almost like too big of a coincidence, but whatever. At least that made it easier to remember the address as he typed it into his phone's navigation app.

It was a short car ride from Izuku's apartment to Shoto (the place and the person), given that they both lived in Shibuya. Despite that, Izuku was able to tell when the scenery around him started to change.
If it hadn't been obvious before that Shoto had money, it sure was now.

Izuku first passed through a busier city area, which after a short while, gradually blended into the more calm residential area where Shoto lived. It was easy to tell when the city stopped and the uptown started. Large, modern, sharp edged single-family houses began lining the streets in lieu of the skyscrapers from before. And there was vegetation, too.
What was most striking however, was the lack of people. In the city area, there was a constant bustling of people trying to arrive at their respective destinations, but here it seemed like Izuku was the only one out this late an hour.

Realizing this only made Izuku feel even more like an intruder.

He was almost surprised that when he saw the building with Shoto's address, it wasn't one of the many single family houses on the street. Shoto might just live in one of the only few residential complexes of the area, although Izuku wasn't entirely sure it could even be called that. You see, Izuku lived in a complex that harboured no less than 20 families.
Shoto's complex, if any, looked as though it was designed for merely two residents.

And when Izuku rang the door bell, he couldn't make out any bell signs other than a blank one and the one that read Todoroki. He deduced from this that it was a very real possibility Shoto lived alone in the complex.

A few seconds passed then, and Izuku used them to steel himself, take a deep breath and just let go of some of the tension in his shoulders. There was no reason for him to be this on edge. This was Shoto. This was going to be just fine.

Something buzzed then, an artificial noise cutting through the silence of the moment. A voice came from a speaker, from the upper right corner of the door frame, if Izuku was to place it.

"Izuku?"

"Yes, it's me." Izuku answered after a moment. It was a little awkward to talk to someone, when you couldn't even see them. He wasn't used to that. His apartment complex didn't have an intercom (which wasn't that incomprehensible considering that, unlike Shoto, he didn't live in such a high profile area).

"I was wondering where I could park my car by the way, I didn't see any free parking lots on my way here. I have it parked in your driveway now."

"I see that. You can park it in the underground garage. I'll open the garage door for you."

So Izuku got back in his car and Shoto did as he promised, as but a moment later, a large black, yet inconspicuous door opened somewhere on the left side of the house. It was so skillfully interwoven with the design of the facade that Izuku had not noticed it before this moment.

Shoto waited for him inside the garage.

Neither of them were big on hugging, so they skipped the greeting and went straight for getting inside Shoto's flat, walking up the staircase in a side by side walk, exchanging the obligatory 'good to see you', and 'yeah, good to see you too' before falling back into comfortable silence.

When they arrived at the second floor, Shoto took out a key card (seriously, not a normal key, but a fucking key card?) and opened the door to his apartment.

Shoto moved inside and held the door open for Izuku, and Izuku was finally met with the image of Shoto's flat. Something he'd admittedly given some thought before. He was curious as to what a person like Shoto lived like.

He couldn't say that the insides surprised him very much. He hadn't expected much decoration, and he found that his intuition hadn't disappointed him.
There were next to no pictures, paintings or other decorative objects adorning Shoto's hallway.

As they went into the kitchen, Izuku found that it mirrored the hallway in it's bleakness. It was one of those non-descriptive modern kitchens that had little to no personal touch, next to white brick tiles, white walls, more white walls as well as a mahogany dining table that was, in Izuku's humble opinion, way too big to accommodate just a single person.
Nonetheless, the flat could by no means be described as gimcrack. Or god forbid – cheap. Though you might assert that nothing in here really looked like someone had selected it out of genuine interest, it still granted a coherent image.
It looked like one of those poster houses they advertise to you in commercials, that contain a promise of something more, yet remain entirely impersonal, to make sure that as many people as possible are able to envision their own touch in it. Shoto had not left his touch in this.
It felt like a placeholder, Izuku concluded.

Despite this, the flat was still beautiful, in the way that all things were that had stood the test of time and remained unblemished. And it was spacious, too.

When Izuku's gaze roamed back to the table, he saw that there were several take out boxes arranged on it. They had decided that Shoto would order the take out while Izuku was on his way to Shoto's flat in order to safe time.
They had to order something as none of them had ever cooked more than the occasional Ramen.

Shoto gestured for Izuku to sit down at the far end of it, which he did, and Shoto took a seat next to him. When they were sat, Izuku made for a joke, "So tell me, what exactly do you work as to afford a place like this? Is this the day that I find out that the mysteriously wealthy bachelor that's been courting me for the past weeks is secretly a member of the Yakuza?"

Shoto had so far dodged any attempt of Izuku to breach the subject of their jobs. That, in turn, had only served getting Izuku to grow quite curious.

Shoto looked at him perplexed for a moment, before breaking out into a soft chuckle.

"No, I'm afraid the truth is not quite so extravagant. I'm an engineer at the company of my father. We develop machines for medicine."

So this was the occupation Shoto had been trying to hide? When he had said at the bar that he works in Tec, but remained super vage about it otherwise, Izuku began thinking that maybe it's something embarassing, like coding websites for some questionable underground BDSM clubs or whatever.
Yet, this Shoto had said with such a silent reverence that Izuku couldn't help but follow it up with another question, "You like your job a lot, huh?"

"Yeah... I do, actually."

Izuku smiled at him. A real one at that, albeit small.

Shoto smiled back, "I mean, I'd prefer it if I could work for anyone other than my dad, but he is truly the number one in the field right now, though I hate to admit it. Doing it somewhere else would be like tripping myself up."

Shoto paused after that, yet, Izuku was able to tell that this wasn't the whole story. There was more to say, more to reveal.
It had often come to such moments between them in the past few weeks, when one of them had to stumble over a word or two to cover up for something that they weren't ready to talk about with the other person. In this moment however Izuku found that they might finally be at a point where they could confide into the other.

"You can talk to me about this, you know. If you want to, you can tell me more."

Shoto cast him a sly look, which raised more questions than it really answered, "Let's wait with the heavy topics until after we are done with the Udon, shall we?"

"Sure." Izuku just agreed.

They ate their meals in something close to silence. There wasn't much to be said when both parties of the conversation were preoccupied with eating, after all.
When they were done, they withdrew to Shoto's living room, which, just like the other rooms of Shoto's flat Izuku had so far seen, was rather inexpressive, but it had an amazing white couch, big and fluffy and all, that, Izuku realized as he sat down, was even more comfortable than his own bed. He had to actively suppress the urge let out a moan of contentment as he sank down into the folds.
When he had acclimated to the never before known luxury enough that he trusted himself to string together a sentence without his voice coming dangerously close to that overly relaxed wobbly tone, he asked Shoto, "Is now the right time to talk about it?"

Shoto straightened up a little, turned with his upper body more toward Izuku. If he was still contemplating on whether he wanted to tell Izuku about this, he definitely made his decision by the time he said "Sure", voice steady, no hesitation visible about him. Clearing his throat, Shoto went on to say, "My dad isn't … necessarily a good person, by any means, but he has certain core values that are undoubtedly good."

Okay. That was that. Izuku made a mental note of it and then nodded for Shoto to go on. He did.

"He wants to help people with what he does. I'm not quite sure whether that stems from a desire to genuinely make the world a better place, or the desire to be the person that gets to make the world a better place, but in any case, it leads to the same results, a better world. And that's what counts, I suppose. He is- god, Izuku, he is really good at what he's doing. He knows his shit. And he made sure that I do, too."

The confusion must have been obvious on Izuku's face, as Shoto replied to Izuku's questioning gaze with, "When I was young, about four years old I think, my parents took me to an institution to get tested for high IQ. I don't really know the test results I scored that day, but they must have been satisfactory, because once we came back home, my father took it upon himself to introduce me into his field of work, slowly, over the next few years. I am to become his successor in the business."

"That's quite the pressure to put on a child, isn't it?" It slipped out before Izuku could wonder whether that was the right thing to say, whether saying such a thing could insult Shoto.

All of Izuku's worries were evaded when Shoto actually chuckled in response, "I know it sounds like I was just doing what he told me, which– well, it's not like I had any say in it, really, but at the end of the day, it was as much his order as it was my wish. It makes me kind of hate him, at times, and myself, too. That I want this as much as he wants me to want it.
There'd been times when there was nothing that I'd have rather wanted than to like something else better, wanting to become a teacher like my sister for example, just as to have more reason to spite him, but well, it's no use." Despite what he said, Shoto smiled softly. "Truth is, I really, really like my job. This is the thing I was meant to do."

Izuku genuinely sympathized with this. He’d never had a dad, so it wasn’t like he understood the complicated relationship of Shoto with his dad, but he knew a thing or two about what it felt like when you desire to have reason to hate someone. Something that validates you in being upset with them.

When Katsuki had gone missing, and Izuku hadn’t yet thought him dead, he had believed in a different theory of why Katsuki wasn’t there.
He’d thought Katsuki had left him out of boredom, because he didn’t care for Izuku anymore. Sure, he’d talked about leaving like a handful of times before that point, but Izuku had believed him to be full of shit then. A lot of thirteen year olds make careless comments like that. It didn't have to mean anything. Turns out, Katsuki wasn't one of those thirteen year olds. He had actually meant what he'd said he would do.

The worst thing was, Izuku, back then, had understood why he did it. And a big part of him wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Was glad that Katsuki had gone for the exit point while he’d had the chance.

Another part of him, one that had grown bigger over time, that had fed itself on all of the little doubts, all of the painful nights Izuku had spent crying over the feeling of abandonment that wouldn’t leave him, all of the angry stomach twists, all of the loneliness of his teenage years, that part had deeply wished for a reason to loathe Katsuki.

Until eventually Izuku had found one, a reason. The Why behind all of it. The Why like this?

Why did Katsuki have to do it like this, saying goodbye with no more than words scrabbled on one of Izuku's old notebooks? Why had it been essential for him to leave Izuku behind? What was the reason as to why Izuku couldn’t have simply come with him?

Or at least – why had Katsuki never tried to contact him? Write him a letter? Call him? Visit him?
Izuku didn’t care what it would have been. Anything would have sufficed. He’d been desperate for just a single sign that showed Izuku that Katsuki was still alive and okay, hadn’t been kidnapped or worse.

That question, or more so the answer to that question, had been reason enough for Izuku to hate Katsuki. For a while. For a long, long while it had been. Three years to be precise, starting from the evening of Izuku’s sixteenth birthday, to the time that he was nineteen, and Katsuki’s mother had told him about Katsuki’s death.
He remembered the day as one would remember the first day of a war. When everything around you was falling apart and you had to ask yourself if you would survive what was coming your way.

Izuku had stared out the kitchen window and spotted the women, standing on her porch. Something about the sight had prompted him into seeking her out that day, strike up a conversation and steer it into familiar territory. Her eyes, it has most likely been her eyes, as for the first time that Izuku was able to recall, she hadn’t looked like she was waiting for answers anymore. She’d just stared off into the distance, without care. As if all questions that she might have had at some point, had recently been cleared.
It had taken little to no coaxing to make her say it, tell him that her only son had died. On the contrary, she had almost seemed pleased. To get it out, to speak it.

No matter which hard feelings Izuku had harbored for Katsuki by that point, he would have never managed to hold onto them after that. Not in death.
The hatred had vanished without trace, had turned to dust and smoke and air and it had left Izuku wondering whether it had even been there in the first place. All that was still left was sorrow, but that wasn’t new to him.

After this, Izuku had been convinced he could never hate Katsuki again, but he was wrong on that, too, it seemed, as the rage had come back the moment that he’d laid eyes on the man in that bar’s bathroom.

Now he didn't know what he felt like anymore. Dwelling on that question seemed like it wasn't a good idea, so he tried to avoid that on most days.

He shook his head, in an attempt to cast aside the thoughts about Katsuki and turned to Shoto, "Which movie do you want to watch?"

Shoto shrugged, and leaned closer into Izuku so their shoulders and arms were touching and Izuku could feel the heat of Shoto's left side seep into him, "I don't care much, you can decide."

Izuku thought for a moment. "How about this American one, I think it's called 'Dangerous love' or something. I heard it's kinda good."
Ochako had been the one to tell him that. The movie was an American production, but starred one of Ochako's favorite Japanese upcoming actors. She'd watched the movie weeks ago and afterwards reported to Izuku how good it apparently was. Though Izuku wasn't entirely sure how much of her opinion of the movie could be trusted and how much had come to be because she admired the cast members more so than the film's quality, he figured that watching a romcom was the fitting thing to do for an occasion like this. A date.

So what he hadn't expected was for Shoto's brows to draw together and him saiyng, "I don't think that's a good idea."

Frowning, Izuku asked, "How so? Do you not want to watch a romance movie?"

Shoto quickly brought his hands up in a placating gesture, leaning a little further away in the wake "Oh sorry, no, that's not it. It's just so that I happen to know one of the actors in it rather well. And it would be weird to watch a movie with him in it now. You know ..." Shoto trailed off.

Izuku didn't know. "Why would you think that? Are you guys not on good terms?" If Shoto hated that person, Izuku could absolutely understand if the other man didn't want to see a movie with the guys face in it. If that was the case he wouldn't press the matter anymore.

"Ah, no. Not exactly." Shoto replied, looking off sideways.

Izuku would have been ready to drop the subject then, if he hadn't noticed something at that moment. Shoto had his head turned sideways. He was facing the TV while Izuku was facing him. And he was concentrating a little too hard on staring at the screensaver to really pass as relaxed.
Shoto was blushing. It was faint, and nearly imperceptible in the dim light of Shoto's living room, but it was undeniably there.
The last time that Shoto had blushed in Izuku's company had been at the bar. Izuku couldn't possibly not press the matter after that.

"So who is it?"

"Mmh?"

"Which actor do you have a crush on?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Yet, Shoto's blush only intensified.

"Oh I think you do." Izuku chuckled.

Surprisingly, Shoto gave in after that. He put his head into Izuku's lap and let out a truly anguished sounding huff for Shoto's standards, which meant that it was little more than a moderate volume exhale for anyone else. Izuku hadn't thought him capable of before.
It was almost reflex for Izuku to put his hands into Shoto's hair.

"Do you really want to know?" A voice sounded, sturdy, albeit muffled into the fabric of Izuku's pajama pants.

"Sure do."

Another sigh followed, before Shoto resigned to his fate, "He was an old classmate of mine, back in high school. I- fell for him pretty much the first instance that we met, but it's useless. It never worked out, as you can see."

Izuku had started stroking Shoto's hair in soft little circles, and he asked, careful as to not come off as too insensitive, "Why do you think is that?"

Shoto bit his lip in a calculating gesture, "He just never liked me like that. And now he's in America anyway, so it's not like there is any hope left."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Shoto."

Shoto hummed, in thought. None of them were really sure how to follow up on that.

It was quiet for a bit, but then Shoto, without standing up, turned his head in Izuku's lap to face him, "And what about your old flame?"

Izuku was almost sure that Shoto must be referring to Mei before he realized that he had never actually told Shoto about her. Which left only one possible explanation.
Ah, right. Izuku had never actually cleared up the misconception about his person from the past. The one that he had quoted as the reason for why he wasn't looking for a relationship at the moment. Shoto had likely assumed it to have been a past lover.

"It wasn't anything like that. We weren't actually a thing. We were-" Kids. Izuku wanted to say. We'd been kids. But he stopped himself before he could voice that sentence. What would Shoto think of him once he revealed to him that the person Izuku was sulking over, was one he had, with one exception, last seen more than a decade ago? That would make Izuku look pitiful at best, and crazy at worst. So it simply wasn't an option to tell Shoto.

"We weren't actually a thing." Izuku instead reiterated. Shoto could think of it what he wanted now, Izuku didn't care what it sounded like.

"Should we just watch an old All Might Movie?" Shoto suggested, after a while.

On either their second or third date, Izuku wasn't entirely sure, they had talked about some of their interests and in the wake discovered, that both of them had liked the iconic All Might Superhero Movies when they were younger.
Shoto had told Izuku that he'd watched them religiously, mostly because he'd noticed that the movies pissed off his dad. Izuku had watched them because, because–

"Yeah, let's do that." Izuku agreed.

Shoto lifted himself up from Izuku's lap and Izuku used the retrieved freedom to shift into a more upright position. He willed the sting in his eyes to subside before he brought his gaze back to Shoto.

"Now there's only one question left. Which of the four movies do we pick? Young Age, Bronze Age, Silver Age or Golden Age?"

What followed this question was a rather heated discussion between the two men about which of the four films was most deserving of the title 'best in the franchise'. Eventually, they settled for Young Age and vowed to watch the rest of the movies when another occasion arose.

Without Izuku really taking notice of it, the remainder of the evening soon faded into the quiet and subdued hours of the night. When the movie ended, they both retreated into Shoto's bedroom and Izuku spent the night at Shoto's place. And it was nice. It really was. He would have stayed longer, wasn't it for the fact that he had work the next day. Luckily, they both had to get up early for work so Izuku was spared the embarrassment of waking Shoto up just to unlock the underground garage for him again.
As Izuku backed out of Shoto's garage, he caught himself consulting his feelings about it all, this thing they had with each other. And he came to a conclusion rather quickly. It would never become more than just this, dating at each of their leisure, Izuku knew that as much as Shoto did, yet, he couldn't help himself from thinking that, however long it lasted, he was glad that it had started in the first place. It was a nice past-time. For both of them it seemed.

The rest of that day passed Izuku like a gush of strong wind. It was over in a blur. He spent the entire day feeling trapped inside of his head, because he was so nervous about the impending decision that he could barely keep it together at work.
At least that had given him a good excuse when Kyoka had predictably asked him about his weird mood.

Friday came faster than Izuku would have liked. Still, when his alarm bell rang, he woke up like any other work day and didn't hesitate as he took his car to drive to the chancellery, albeit his nerves were screaming at him to U-haul the car back around the entire time.
He felt strangely sickly when he pushed open the doors to the building, but he swallowed the bile rising in his throat and willed his heart to slow and his fingers to stop twitching.
When he turned the last corner to HR's office, he came to a halt, forcing a deep breath of air down his lungs when he realized that he had stopped breathing the moment he had entered the corridor.
He closed his eyes and focused on only his breathing then and reminded himself of what he had concluded during last night's late night ruminations.

It was all going to be fine.

Even if he wasn't going to land the job, he would be okay. He could just get another one. Some other place. His resume was appealing and the job market was also quite manageable at the moment. He would find another occupation after this. He would be fine.

He wiped his hands on the fabric of his jeans, trying to get rid of the clammy feeling of sweat, and then he knocked on the door. After a short while, he could make out the sound of a distant confirmation to come in, so he did.

Izuku had already been to the company's HR office once. It was six months ago, when he had landed the internship here. Hizashi had made him sign the contract in this room.

The door to the office of the chancellery's human resources department opened into a loft-y space and it was much bigger than the individual offices. Aizawa's office had been generous, but it was almost snug in comparison to this room. When he entered, he saw that the room hadn't changed all that much in the six months that had passed. The walls were painted in a regal-looking creme white, a handful of generic paintings adorning them which Izuku already hadn't payed closer attention to the first time he'd seen them, one for every side, and right in this moment, they felt miles away from where Izuku was standing in the room. Whatever the opposite of claustrophobic was, it made him feel that way. A version of it that was negative, anyway. There was too much space in here and nothing would halt him if he fell.

The HR team was sitting at an oval table situated at the far end of the room. He could make out a few familiar faces. Hizashi Yamada was there, obviously. But also three other people, two of which Izuku had never seen before. Two women with truly intimidating auras. They sat at the end of the table. Secretly, Izuku was glad that he wouldn't have to sit next to them during the conversation. The last person Izuku looked toward was Aizawa. At the sight of his supervisor, Izuku felt how some of the nervousness left him. When the black haired man locked eyes with Izuku, he beckoned for him to sit down at the table.

Hizashi gave him similar instructions, "Ah, Mr. Midoriya. Good morning. I'm pleased to have you here with us today." He smiled, "Well, sit down please. Let's get to the matter right away."

"Good morning." Izuku rasped, voice betraying him in the most unfitting of moments. He, very purposely, suppressed the urge to turn around and leave the room. Instead, he forced himself to comply and sat down at the only available seat at the other end of the table so he was now sitting across from all of them, at a safe distance.

He mustered up a vaguely confident smile once he was seated. None of them had to know how nervous he actually was. Aizawa hadn't averted his gaze, yet.

Hizashi coughed, and thereby caught the attention of even the two women at the table, who had previously been stuck in a whispered conversation with each other, who's identity Izuku still had no clue about, "Please, let me introduce you to the team." Hizashi gestured toward the people gathered around the table, "I'm sure you've never gotten the opportunity to meet the HR department's cavalry."

"I believe not." Izuku said, trying for jovial.

Hizashi laughed good-naturedly, before gesturing to one of the women, the one with black hair and dark red oldstyle glasses, "This is Nemuri Kayama. She's been working in the business for the last fifteen years now and she was the one who was tasked with assessing your performance over these last few weeks."

The woman in question flipped her eyes to Izuku, and it was a mildly upsetting sensation to have her watch him, and it did nothing to curb Izuku's restless disposition.

"That's right. I've had my eyes and ears everywhere over the last few weeks." The ominous smile playing at her lips as she said that did not indicate whether it was meant in a positive or negative way.

Apart from his smile, Izuku did not respond and she soon turned back to the woman sitting next to her. As Izuku did the same, he realized that his earlier impression wasn't entirely accurate. This woman did not have an intimidating aura, on the contrary. Izuku couldn't place what exactly it was, but looking at her instantly put him somewhat more at ease. Maybe it was the green hair. Maybe he felt some kind of kinship or solidarity with her, because of it.

Hizashi introduced her as Emi Fukukado. When she smiled at Izuku, he could easily tell that it was a kind-hearted smile with no unfathomable hidden meaning. She had apparently been the one who had reviewed his application.

"And I'm sure you know Aizawa all too well by now. No more introduction necessary" Hizashi smirked. Aizawa rolled his eyes in response, which only caused the blonde man to smirk brighter. In a distant part of his mind, Izuku wondered how he couldn't have noticed it sooner. The tension between these two seemed rather obvious to him now.
And immediately after formulating that thought Izuku was wondering how he could even think about anything that didn't concern the conversation lying before him.

"Now that that's out of the way, let's begin, shall we. I'll go first," The woman, Nemuri, said, "So, Mr. Midoriya. I'll make this quick and easy. After putting you under really long and really thorough scrutiny, I've come to the conclusion that you're a really capable person who does their job conscientiously and always satisfactorily. I've got nothing to criticize." She shrugged.

"That actually corresponds to my assessment of you, Mr. Midoriya," Fukukado agreed, "We found your application to be very convincing. I must say, your cover letter really touched me."

Hizashi stood up, shoved his chair back and walked towards the shelf behind him. When he turned back, he was holding a carafe in his hand.

"Water?" He asked Izuku.

When Izuku shook his head in response, he poured his own glass of water instead and said, "Very well. Anyway. We are delighted to have such a dedicated advocate such as yourself wanting to work with our company."

Izuku was convinced that he was not actually getting what they were saying. He couldn't be.

The two women looked at him expectantly then, and he figured it might be the appropriate thing that he said something in return now.

"I'm glad to hear that. Flattered, too." And astonished. And unbelieving. Questioning. Almost convinced even that they must be mistaken. Though he'd better not let them know that.

"I must say, Mr. Midoryia, I've had a good impression of you since you signed the internship contract with me here. If it'd been up to me, we should have hired you right from the start, leave all of that internship crap out." Hizashi winked at him, "though it'd be great if this comment didn't leave this conversation." Toward the end of his speech, he gave Izuku a serious look.

"Of course." Izuku agreed, hoping that his nervous smile could be mistaken for positively surprised.

Aizawa cleared his throat, "Since it hasn't been directly stated by anyone so far I'll take it upon myself to do so. Hizashi, I hope you don't mind if I take over your job there for a second." Aizawa wasn't smiling at Hizashi per se, but it wasn't that far off from a smile either, "Midoriya, we would love to accept your application and have you work with us further. We'd like to offer you a permanent position in our company. We'd love to keep you with us."

Wow. Now it was hard even for someone like Izuku to doubt what was happening. He couldn't exactly make out what he was feeling in that moment, just that it was overwhelming almost. He hadn't thought ... he hadn't allowed himself to hope. He was so afraid of getting disappointed, he didn't want to get his hopes up. To see and to hear now that he had managed to not fuck this thing up. He had managed to hold onto a good thing. It filled him with unforeseen relief. He had to get some of that off his chest, immediately.

"That's really amazing to hear. I'm really very grateful, thank you very much. I promise that you won't regret this decision." He vowed, with a reverence he hadn't even been aware was inside him.

"Ah, no need for that, Mr. Midoriya. We don't just give things away to be nice. This is all your own work that got you here." The blonde man laughed and Izuku felt his cheeks heat up at the praise.

Hizashi laughed a lot, Izuku realized. He had so far probably not said a single word to Izuku all morning without not also having at least the hint of a smile playing on his lips. Izuku found, just for now, that it was contagious.

Izuku then felt a hand hitting on his shoulder gently, which made him turn his head in the direction from where it came. And he saw Aizawa, eyes seizing Izuku up in this scrutinizing way that Izuku didn't really understand the meaning of, when he said, "He's right. It's your honest work that got you here. No need to thank anyone else for that."

Izuku must have responded to that with something, he supposed, because it would have been awkward otherwise. It was only that he didn't remember much after that point. Just that Hizashi or maybe even Ms. Kayama pulled out the contract from somewhere under the table, and Izuku signed it without much thought, feigning to read the terms beforehand just to not ruin the respectable impression they apparently had of him. There was quite literally nothing that could have been written in there that would have made him refuse, so reading it was obsolete. He was too much of a nervous wrack to really get the contents anyway.

When it was all over, there was one thing he wanted to do. He needed to make a few calls, since they were three people that should know.
Four actually, if you counted Tenya and Ochako separately. Which Izuku rarely did these days. If he told one of them something, the other would typically know by the next day.

He called his mom first, it was the most obvious choice. Due to his years of practice in this, Izuku managed to cut the phone call down to just five minutes of time and merely three outbursts of tears on the side of his mom. It was downright impressive if you knew what Inko was like usually.

He moved onto the next phone call rather quickly. He dialed for Ochako's number, and she picked up after the third dial, like always. This call didn't last long either. Ochako was in the middle of work and couldn't spare more than a few minutes, using the little time that she had by profusely congratulating Izuku, so that Izuku was rather glad that their call ended so soon. He didn't do well with praise, never knew how to act when someone did.

Shoto was the person he texted last. A call seemed a little too... much.

Izuku had told him at one of their dates that today was the day he'd get the feedback for his application. So Shoto knew all about it. It was probably good etiquette to tell him how it went. So Izuku did that. He followed the expected social etiquette.

What Izuku didn't expect was that Shoto, upon reading Izuku's message, would break said social etiquette by calling.

Yet, Izuku's phone rang. It was a default ringtone, none that Izuku had chosen. Izuku picked up after the first four dials and a deep breath.

"Hello?"

"Izuku, I wanted to congratulate you personally, but I can't quite make it to you so soon."

"Oh, that wouldn't have been necessary anyway, Shoto." Izuku argued.

"Nonsense." Shoto waved him off, "This is a big thing. It warrants a big reception."

He hesitated, "Oh well, I don't know about that ..."

"I do. When I landed the job in the company, my family made me host a celebration party. A ridiculous event, considering that the reason I got accepted into the company was favoritism, above all. Still, it was a reason to party as I was more than qualified for my position and it was the start of my first ever job. Since you did it all on your own, you have even more reason to celebrate. So, we need to do something for you as well."

The thought of hosting a party just for himself made Izuku queasy. There was no way he was going to do that.

"Shoto, I don't really think hosting a big party is my style."

"We don't have to do that. We can do something else."

"And what?"

"Depends on when you'd like to celebrate. If you want to celebrate today, I cannot make it quite that big, it's on short notice, but I can still arrange a thing or two for the evening. If you give me until tomorrow however, we could–"

"No, no. Today sounds fine." Izuku assured him quickly. It was better to get it over with today. He didn't want to give Shoto any time to make it bigger than it had to be. Who knew how much Shoto could organize if given a full night. Workaholic that he was. Just thinking about it made Izuku shiver.

"Okay. Great. There's one catch though. I'm already scheduled to meet with my friends today. So I wouldn't be free until late in the evening. Why don't you come with me?"

"And meet your friends?"

"Yes."

Meeting Shoto's friends... Something about that made Izuku's stomach churn. And it wasn't anything about them.

Well...

Actually, that wasn't quite true. Shoto had told Izuku about his friends a handful of times now.
And every time he did, he never failed to mention how upbeat and fun they were. Izuku was neither upbeat, nor was he fun, and he was okay with that.
He was totally okay with it, until he was around people that were generally cheerful, because then he felt inadequate. Insufficient. Like he was flawed goods, supposed to have been discarded in storage, but had somehow managed to get into the retail sale anyway, and now forced to face the judging eyes of customers who had expected something better. Something that wasn't damaged goods.

While that was certainly true, Izuku knew he wouldn't really be able to avoid it either. He had to meet them at some point. And maybe an informal meet up like this one was the best opportunity for it. When no one was even expecting him. He could possibly even excuse himself halfway through the night and no one would take offense.

"Okay. Sure. Thanks." Izuku agreed, after reasoning with himself.

"Amazing. I'll pick you up later today, yeah? Be ready at seven." Shoto's voice sounded from the other end of the call.

"Sure."

They hung up after that and Izuku decided to head home as he'd been cleared for the entire day.

It was when he was back at his place that Izuku realized he wouldn't be the one driving tonight. A dangerous discovery. So far, the thing that had kept him from drinking wasn't just that he continuously met up with Shoto, and therefore didn't get the opportunity.
It was a combination of that, as well as the fact that Izuku was driving. He was always driving to or from somewhere.
Today, he wouldn't be driving.

And immediately after this realization struck, his fingers were tingling and twitching nervously. Could he get drunk today and be sober by seven o'clock?

It took longer than he would like to admit, but eventually, after what felt like a while, he dismissed that train of thought. There was no way he could juggle it all in the few hours he had. Once he started drinking, what was the guarantee that he would stop?

When he wanted to meet with Ochako and Iida, the forthcoming meeting had been enough motivation. But with Shoto it was different. Ochako and Tenya he had known for so long now, since their school days. Disappointing them would come close to a disgrace, which was why Izuku tried not to do that most days.
Shoto, on the other hand, he hadn't known for that long. Shoto was almost a stranger. So with him he would have considerably less incentive and inhibitions. So, really, it was better if he didn't even take the chance.

As he had said, Shoto was standing in front of Izuku's door at seven sharp, announcing himself with a text message.
It didn't take Izuku long from his apartment down to Shoto either. Luckily, they had to leave right away, otherwise Izuku might have been put through the embarrassment of having to ask Shoto upstairs.

It was the first time Izuku saw Shoto's car in broad daylight, or well, evening light. He had gotten a vague glimpse of it while they'd been in Shoto's garage, but he hadn't really paid attention to the car at the time. But now, in the light of the setting sun, Izuku realized it had to be some sort of sports car. Definitely an Audi, Izuku could tell by the brand sign of the four rings. White. Air-cut. Fast looking. Very new looking, too. And of course, spotless. Figured Shoto was driving a car like that.

Izuku strode the last few steps to the passenger seat, opened the door and sat down.

"Is it too cold for you? I can turn on the heated seats if you like. Sorry, I never really feel it myself, I don't get cold very quickly." Said Shoto to him in lieu of saying hello.

Shoto looked very good today, too. Just as rested and fresh as two days ago. How did he do that? Izuku himself had had to spend an hour in his small and crappy bathroom to get rid of the dark circles under his eyes as well as tidy up his hair, which, much to his annoyance, seemed to always have a mind of its own, only ever doing what it wanted and never what Izuku wanted.

"No, I'm fine, I'm not cold." Izuku said.

Shoto started to drive out of the parking space then. He went about it with such suppleness and skill Izuku has seldom seen anyone else apply when handling a vehicle. Admittedly, Izuku didn't often sit as a passenger in the car, but it was still quite impressive.

"Alright." Shoto responded.

"My address wasn't that hard to find, was it?" Izuku asked when the silence stretched.

"No, don't worry. It was fairly easy." Shoto's head turned when he checked the blind spot, "So, are you happy about the job?"

Izuku shrugged, "Sure I am."

Shoto threw him a quick glance, "You don't seem all that enthusiastic about it."

Well, I'm not enthusiastic about most things, Izuku thought, but when answering Shoto, he said something different.

"It's just, when I was finally done and leaving the HR office, my supervisor, Aizawa, pulled me aside and told me something ..., it's been weighing on me. I didn't think you would notice, actually." Izuku was gazing out of the window and watching the city lights passing them in streaks, but he threw Shoto a look of his own.

They were stopped at a red light, so it didn't matter as Shoto looked straight at him again, assessingly, "Well, your discomfort is quite obvious to me. What is it?"

Well, what should he tell him? That he hated celebrating? That celebrating it felt like jinxing it.

Saying this would only make him seem overly pessimistic, so he couldn't do that. With Izuku's luck, it would be the final nail in the coffin to make Shoto realize he was better off with a more energetic person than him.

Or maybe he could say that he hated being around fun people? Hardly. That would hardly be the right thing to say. It would be overly difficult to explain. And again, it would only make him seem rather pessimistic.

Because none of those truths suited him, he once again resorted to the conveniently obvious excuse.

"There's this colleague, Monoma. He's been a real nuisance ever since I got there, and we've been kind of pitted against each other the entire time of the internship too. We were told that only one of the new interns would make the cut etcetera, the whole deal. It was just bound to cause tension between us. I was convinced that now that I landed the job that ordeal would finally be over, but after the whole talk Aizawa pulled me aside and told me they were also offering him a permanent position. Even though there was technically only one new position planned, which means that I'm not entirely out of the woods yet."

"Well, that sucks to hear, I really feel for you." Shoto said. And Izuku felt a little comforted, even though he admittedly doubted that Shoto could genuinely understand his situation.
He would never have to worry about the competition, not in the way that Izuku had to.
As far as Izuku could tell, Shoto's always been a high achiever and outperformed most in his field. Those who were close to him in terms of ability ultimately did not represent any serious competition for him, because as his father's son, he was practically born with the right to later take over the company.

"It's not to worry. I'll be okay."

They didn't have time to talk about much more, as it looked they had reached their destination. At least Shoto turned off the engine. Izuku took that as his sign to step out of the car.

It occurred to Izuku that he hadn't asked Shoto what they were going to do with his friends so he did it now, "Shoto, where exactly are we meeting your friends?"

"You'll see." Shoto said, winking at him. A traitorously good look on him that neutralized all desire for protest on Izuku's side.

With those ominous words, Shoto went ahead and led the path and Izuku had no choice but to follow him.

In Hindsight, Izuku thought it was him having just had this really nerve-wracking conversation at work that caused him to remain so oblivious of his surroundings until now. Mentally he was still so caught up in the events of that morning that he didn't even notice how familiar the area was to him.

He only really connected the dots when Shoto opened the door to the building they had stopped in front of and they stepped inside.

gray walls. Gray bare walls. And in the distance, way back by the dance floor, a glow of purple light.

The first time Izuku entered this room, he remembered feeling comfortable being there. As if this place had a very special, inviting atmosphere. One of safety and one that promised a fun night. It was here that he'd been able to catch his breath again. At first.

But right now, stepping into this room for the second time, as a changed man, it felt like the complete opposite. As if instantly a great weight was coming down on his chest.

He was back at the bar where he met Katsuki. But of course. It was so clear now. Why not? Why shouldn't Shoto and his friends meet in this bar? Which, after all, belonged to two of their friends? It was such an obvious conclusion. Why hadn't Izuku thought of it?

But before he could allow the panic that suddenly arose in him to appear in his eyes and likely alarm Shoto, he forced himself to think rationally and not let his emotions get the better of him again.

Fact was: Katsuki wasn't here.
At least at that moment he wasn't. A short but extensive look through the room, hopefully not suspicious to Shoto, confirmed this to Izuku.

Also, fact: The chance that Katsuki would show up here today was significantly low considering that Izuku had only seen him once in the last ten years. A sobering record.
So statistically, it really wasn't a concern.

Also, what were the chances of lightning striking the same place twice? Was it really worth panicking over and subsequently scaring off Shoto? Just because there was a slim chance Katsuki would show up a second time?

Probably not. Most likely it wasn't, no.

Since it was already his second time today forcing himself to swallow his panic, he had an easier time doing it now.
When he threw a quick inconspicuous look at Shoto, he was relieved to find that Shoto hadn't seemed to notice his temporary weakness. Undeterred, Shoto grabbed Izuku's hand to lead him through the conversing crowd of people in the entrance hall off to a more secluded area. Izuku assumed that he and his friends had a designated spot where they usually met. If there was any distrust or concern palpable in the hand grasp they shared, Izuku didn't notice it, which made him relax a little more again.

He was right. Shoto and his friends did have a designated place of meeting. One of the tables that Izuku had sat at when he was here with Ochako and Tenya. They were kind of embedded in the wall, so they granted the optimal shelter and noise canceling for conversations.
There were two people sitting at the table that Shoto was heading for, already. A woman and a man, both the same age as Shoto and Izuku if the looks were anything to go by. The man looked vaguely familiar, with his long black hair and sharply carved features. Izuku couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen him somewhere before.

The woman, on the other hand, was a complete stranger to him. She was very beautiful. Pink hair, dark skin. Captivating eyes. Hazel colored if Izuku was correct. And she had a big, confident smile. Izuku wanted to look away again.

Something funny happened when Shoto and the black-haired man locked eyes. Shoto let go of Izuku's hand. Which actually didn't have to mean much. After all, they had reached the place they had aimed for. Leading Izuku around by hand was no longer necessary. Only, Shoto also became imperceptibly stiffer next to him, as if he were a child caught stealing at the liquor store. As Shoto took a seat in the cove next to the woman, he moved with only half the grace and elegance Izuku was used to from him.

Shoto greeted the group with a warm, noncommittal "Hey guys. It's nice seeing you again." The response was almost immediate. They reciprocated it of course, the woman and Shoto hugging and the black haired guy reaching over the woman to give Shoto a shoulder pat.
Izuku sat down too, in the seat right next to Shoto. And just as he feared, all eyes turned to him.

Smiling at him, the women began speaking, "Hi, I'm Mina. It's nice meeting you finally, after Shoto's been telling us about you."
Maybe Izuku was imagining it, but the man seemed a bit perplexed as Mina said this, but it also seemed that he didn't want it to show. A second later it was over.

"Hello, likewise." Izuku said and his voice sounded small. Which always happened when he met strangers this casually, but wasn't drunk. What added to it was the fact that what Mina had said had surprised him. Had Shoto really already told them about him?
Maybe Mina just said that to be polite.

"I'm sorry to ask, but what's your name?" The man smiled at Izuku.

"Ah, no worries. My name's Izuku. And what's yours?" Izuku asked, while reaching over the table to shake his hand.

The man didn't hesitate as he returned the handshake (a firm, confident grip). "I'm Sero. Nice making your acquaintance."

Izuku agreed politely. Somehow the man looked at him for a few more seconds, and it seemed like the thought had only just occurred to him as he asked Izuku "So, you and Shoto, you're friends?"

Mina gave him an unreadable look, but he seemed to not notice it.

Izuku turned nervous, but couldn't exactly say why that was "No, not directly." He said, dodging the embarrassment of giving a direct answer to that question. It would now be a little too personal for him to explain exactly what he and Shoto were.
Shoto for his part also made no attempt to further specify what Izuku had said.

"Have you ordered yet?" Shoto asked the two instead.

"Well, Cami knows what to bring us, so I'm assuming that she'll get to it herself. We just didn't know what your companion wanted. He can tell her that himself when she comes to our table soon." She winked at him. Reflexively, Izuku smiled back.

"Alright."

"So, Izuku, tell us something about you. I mean, we know everything about each other already, but we don't know anything about you." Sero leaned back into his seat and put an arm over the backrest. His voice and facial expression were friendly and spoke of no ill-intent, yet Izuku felt a little uncomfortable. He didn't particularly like talking about himself, especially to strangers.

Still, he got himself to give a quick response "Sure, well, I'm 25. I'm not from Tokyo, I just moved here when I started law school. And I've been working at the U.A. law firm since the beginning of this year."

He couldn't think of more. It felt ages ago that he was last able to tell more of himself than just the basic data.

He must be giving off the most boring, monotonous impression ever to them. So he didn't even give them the chance to comment on it. Since offense was the best defense, he asked them the same question in return, "And what about you guys?"

Mina answered him first, "Oh, Sero and I were working on a project in LA, actually. He's an actor and I do both acting and dancing. Unfortunately, I can't say more than that as it's all confidential, but it's the first big thing we both landed, right?"

"Yeah. We had a few jobs here and there, but they can't be compared to what's coming now." Confirmed Sero.

"That sounds really cool. When can we see you in the cinema?" Izuku asked.

Mina grinned, "Very soon. Probably this winter."

"Speaking of America. How was the flight? Aren't you guys supposed to be in bed with jetlag by now? I mean, what's the time difference from Tokyo to LA? 15 hours?" Shoto chimed in again.

"16." Sero answered, smirking, "but no, we've worked nights a lot on set. And we took about the earliest flight we could get, which means that we're still perfectly accustomed to Tokyo's time."

"How practical. I must admit though, now I'm wondering all the more what kind of film it was that you had to film at night."

"I'll show you the trailer once it gets released. It's bad luck to talk about it before that." Sero said.

Mina cleared her throat, "Ah look, Cami's coming to our table."

And but a moment later a woman appeared, quite tall, with long light brown hair and dressed all in black. Without further ado, she sat down in one of the empty seats on the bench, which happened to be the one right next to Izuku. She wasn't bulking up, but she definitely had a presence that made it seem like she took up more space than she actually did. Izuku supposed this was what you would call someone that was 'larger than life'.

"Omg, hey guys. It's so good to see you. Wait– How come you are still so pale? Where's your vacation tan? Sero, I mean." She looked over the two of them briefly, "I thought America would be treating you guys to a lot of sun."

Mina laughed, "Well, that's Cami for you, always so direct. We've done quite a lot of night shifts, we didn't see much of the sun there."

"And you can hardly call it a vacation when we've spent most of our time there filming scenes. You know, doing hard work." Sero laughed.

"Sure, big shot. Come again when you actually have to audition for a job and it's not just your last name doing all the work." She teased him. It was obviously a joke between two friends, no hard feelings actually. If that wasn't so obvious, Izuku would have definitely been unsettled now. As it was, Sero only reciprocated the smirk.

Shoto then leaned over, and whispered into Izuku's ear, "His parents are also actors. I guess we both are the same brand of awful opportunists then, taking advantage of our parent's success like that."

Izuku chuckled, but was cautious enough to let only Shoto hear it. Well, at least they were self aware.

"Whatever, it's still a shame." Cami pouted, putting her face in her hands.

Then, turning toward Izuku, she suddenly said, "Anyway. Inasa is going to bring the drinks over soon. Which brings me to my next question. Hey there, cutie. And what can we get for you?"

Izuku blushed, her directness taking him by surprise, "Uhm, I think I'll take a Long Island Iced Tea."
It was probably not a good idea to drink, but the thought of having to explain why he was only getting a water wasn't particularly appealing to him either. At least he had company and wasn't drinking alone again.

"Sure thing." Cami said, standing up, presumably to get him that Ice tea, or if not that, at least notify someone who could get him one.

"Drinks are on the house, by the way." Shoto told him as Cami was leaving.

"What? No, I can't accept that." Izuku immediately refused.

Shoto smiled understandingly, albeit amused, "You can, actually. Cami and Inasa would kill me if I let you pay. They haven't allowed us to do that in a year."

When Izuku looked doubtful, the others shook their heads in agreement and with serious expressions etched on their faces. So Izuku decided to drop it. For now.

"What's up with the others, though? Why aren't they here yet?"

Sero was about to answer Shoto when a metallic ping sound filled the small space of the booth they were sitting in, and Mina, who had picked up her phone after the noise and apparently read a message, answered first, "Speaking of the devil. Kiri just texted. It's Denki's fault that they aren't here yet. You know him, takes him forever to get ready. They're a little late but they'll be here soon."

With a charmed look at his wristwatch, Sero said, "Kiri must have dragged Denki by his dyed roots at this point. Normally, he wouldn't be ready before nine."

"Our Explodey boy must have played his part, too. It's a two man's job dragging Denki out of the house. A Diva like him. I bet that he screamed at Denki like he's his mom the entire time."

A frown teleported itself on Izuku's face. Had he heard that right? Explodey boy?

Bewildered, he casted a questioning look at Shoto, but he only shrugged his shoulders and mouthed "You'll see."

Well, Explodey boy sounded like the bad name stage name of a middle school (meaning prepubescent) Soundcloud rapper. Hopefully, their friend was anything but that.

"How come Kiri didn't come here with you, Mina?" Shoto asked, toward her. "He's been crying so much about missing you, I would have thought he'd be half fused to your side by now."

"He offered the others to be their sober ride so they wouldn't have to pay for a cab," Mina answered, looking wistful, "but I'm determined to make up for the lost time, don't you worry. However, patience is a virtue, and after all, what is a few more hours to three months apart? You should get ready to see a lot of PDA tonight, anyway."

"Very well." Shoto replied, smiling into the gin tonic he'd just taken a sip from.

They spent a few more minutes just talking like that with Izuku mostly listening. Now that the focus wasn't on him anymore, he found himself relaxing into his seat, with Shoto emitting a comforting warmth.
He also found that he could be a bit more objective about Shoto's friends now. As it turned out, they were happy people, but not of the type to push it into your face. Which actually made it more bearable for Izuku, if he was being honest.

Cami came back at some point, and with her she brought their drinks as well as another stranger, a guy. Upon closer look Izuku realized that the man wasn't so strange after all, since Izuku remembered his face from the time he was searching up the bar owners' socials to contact Shoto. The only thing that really surprised him about the man was that he was even bigger (meaning broader and taller) in real life than it appeared in the pictures.
Luckily for him, Inasa didn't ask him to talk about himself a second time, a circumstance which he was most grateful for. It seemed barely a few minutes until the others, the rest of Shoto's friends, arrived.

Nobody had to tell Izuku that they were there, he noticed it himself. He heard them before he saw them, recognizing them by the things they were saying.

"I told you that we'd be late if you tried following that smokey eyes tutorial so short before we wanted to leave, dunce face." A voice sounded, more familiar than Izuku was prepared for. A voice that he knew, but didn't at the same time.
This voice had caught his attention, as the group of people that Izuku had his back turned to, was heading their way.
The familiarity of the voice had made him turn his head, of course only figuratively. He didn't want to set the other party members off with sudden odd behavior.

"I can't believe you've dragged me out of the house looking like this. I only have half of my eye makeup done. Congrats, I look like a clown now." A second voice sounded, it was whiny and petulant, though Izuku couldn't tell whether that was meant as an act or whether it was genuine. A strange voice at that, one that Izuku definitely hadn't heard before.

"Oh my god, get over it, will you. It's so dark in here, nobody's gonna be able to take a closer look. Just – cover it with your hair or something, I don't know." The familiar voice again.

"The way you show no remorse. Wow." A huff, "You're a cruel man, you know that?" The unfamiliar voice again.

A third, placating voice entered, "Guys, could we all please calm down again? What's most important is that we get to see Sero and Mina again." Unfamiliar.
It was then that Izuku knew they were the ones they had been waiting for. That's when Izuku realized he wouldn't be able to escape the voice. That's when the panic started to set in.

"Figures that you would say that, damn sap." Familiar, familiar, familiar–

The closer the voices came, the more Izuku felt himself shrink into his seat, his heart sink down to the floor. The more he felt his fingers turn cold, and the panic rise.
There was a creeping sensation of Deja Vu that he could not shake. He didn't know what to do. Hadn't been prepared for any of this to happen now.

What did he want to do? Did he want to leave? Did he want to stay? Did he want to hide under the table and wait for the people to pass? Only thing was, they wouldn't. They'd sit down at their table, and also, Izuku could gladly save himself the embarrassment of doing so, so that wasn't an option either. Fuck.

Fuck. Actually. What the hell was going on in his life?

It had happened once before. The first time he'd been here, four weeks ago. And it was happening again now.
His limbs stiffened with the rising fear and shock and he felt increasingly paralyzed.
Even if he wanted to, and actually he didn't know whether he wanted to, that being the problem, he couldn't move.
He had no choice but to sit in his place next to Shoto and wait for the inevitable to happen. His eyes widening in panic and his breath caught. Throat so tight that he was overwhelmed by the urge to cough.

From then on everything happened in slow motion. Izuku's erratically beating heart was a clock's strike heralding each new act.

Unlike Izuku, none of the others had heard them coming, but Cami was the first to recognize them after him.
She stood up. Which alarmed the rest of the group, who then turned their heads, spotting the arriving a second later.
Cami approached them. After, everyone else got up too. Izuku, who sat exactly between Shoto and the end of the bench, was blocking his way to the others. Which meant that he-, that he-

He had to stand up too. Fuck. He turned toward his right and saw that Shoto was looking at him now. Expecting. He obviously wanted Izuku to make room for him. And why wouldn't he? From Shoto's perspective, there was nothing that spoke against this.

Shit. No. Izuku really had to get up. And fuck, that's what he did, without even thinking about doing it, he was already at it. If he could, he might have started crying now. At least that's what he felt like doing.
Instead, however, he just swallowed the lump in his throat, which judging by the feel of it had already grown to the size of Mount Fuji, and joined the others who were hugging each other in greeting.

He, too. He was hugging Mina now.

The others still didn't notice. Standing in line with them felt like Izuku was standing in a forest of pampas grass swaying in the wind, and he was the only thing that was not moving. He was standing completely still. He was frozen. Stiff and cold as ice.

Mina and Katsuki broke apart now, said something else that Izuku didn't hear, and then parted. Katsuki smiled, a wide warm smile. He seemed... different from a month ago.

When Katsuki then turned away from Mina, assumingly to greet Sero, it happened. He looked in Izuku's direction. And even though it was dark, Izuku knew that Katsuki also immediately recognized him. Saw it in the way his gaze changed and in the way his smile fell.

It was just like it had been the first time.

Katsuki was looking at him and Izuku felt his entire being ignite. Ignite with rage.

Chapter Text

(2012: Izuku's first diary entry)

Dear Diary,

gosh, this is so lame

...

Please note that I have put those dots there to indicate that time has passed between the first two lines and the ones I am writing now.
 To be precise, it's been a little over five hours.

I hadn't really planned on coming back after my first attempt at journaling (as you can see, I called it "lame", which I guess can be taken as an indicator that I don't think much of journaling).
 Anyway, I'm back here now. Five hours later.
 And I don't really know why myself...

I can't quite explain it. Maybe I feel obligated because Mom gave me this book. It's been a month now.
 She handed it to me with the comment that I can be completely open in here.
 Apparently she thinks I have a lot to say and I just don't know where to put it, but that's not entirely true.

The truth is: I have absolutely nothing to say. 
Since Katsuki's gone, I haven't got anything to say at all.
 There are no more words because there is no more tomorrow. I can't find the words because time has stood still. There is only now. And now is so empty, so still.
 I think a lot about everything, but I can't say that my efforts are bearing fruit. You'd think I run entire marathons in my mind with the thinking i've been doing, but really, I only run in one place. Here, too, I am at a loss for words. There is only one sentence that governs my entire existence.

Where is he?

Needless to say, just this one sentence won't be enough to fill an entire book, so I've kind of put off on writing in here until now.

And now...

Like I said, I'm doing it because I feel like I owe it to my mother. I can't let this book sit in my desk drawer forever.

When she gave it to me last month, she also said: Even the strongest thunderstorm will eventually be followed by sunshine. I know she means well. She just wants to cheer me up.

But what good does that do me?
 I have long since left the "thunderstorm" for a darker place.

What good is sunshine when you're literally confined to the bottom of the ocean?

It feels like ... ever since Katsuki left, that's what I've been doing. 
I keep turning my circles on the Mariana Trench.

Just – darkness, pressure and ... desolation.

As if I'd take notice of the sunshine. As if I could.

...

Bye.

__________________________

A strong rush of air passed Izuku's ear as Katsuki pushed the door shut behind them. Katsuki had taken them both to a room, which had been flagged by an "Employees Only" sign on the door. Despite that, Katsuki hadn't seemed the least bit concerned, as if it hadn't occurred to him that they might not be allowed to be here.
That, or he didn't care.

Izuku was leaning against the wall now, next to the door, having slumped against it almost the moment that Katsuki closed it, to put some distance between them.

It was a small room. At least Katsuki didn't try to move further than a meter away from Izuku, which indicated that there wasn't enough space for it. It was too dark for Izuku to tell for sure.

A faint rustling of fabric alerted Izuku a moment before he felt Katsuki move. He forced his eyes to focus on Katsuki in front of him, and watched in the darkness of the room as the faint silhouette of Katsuki's arm came to rest against the wall a little to his left.

For a few seconds Katsuki's hand seemed to be fidgeting with something there, seconds in which Izuku's breathing stopped and all he could take in was the warmth emanating from Katsuki. Izuku gulped.

But then Katsuki pulled away from him at the same time that a light flickered on above them. A singular, naked light bulb, casting a sparse, yellowish light on them.

Of course, he'd felt for the light switch.

The light, albeit dim, allowed Izuku a better view on his surroundings.
It became apparent that they must be in some kind of storage room.
They were encircled by ceiling level shelves stacked with bottles upon bottles of various liquors.
There even were a handful of barrels lined up against the wall.

It left just enough space for one person to be able to navigate through the narrow aisles between the shelves.
The shine of the light bulb almost wasn't enough to illuminate the small storage, but it sufficed for Izuku to have a direct view on Katsuki's face. He could see him much better than the last time now.

They were standing really close. Izuku couldn't help but realize that he would come in touch with Katsuki if he only did so much as raise his hand to him.
Could touch his arm. His face. His hair.

He didn't. He remained just where he was standing.

Seeing Katsuki like this, in such detail, such proximity. It did two things to him. More than that actually, but he only understood and could distinctly work out two of the things that were happening to him.

The rest of what he felt was so turbid and complicated, that he could not have even said whether it was good or bad.

There was a part of him that was mollified by the image. Katsuki, safe.

Another part of him tore apart at the sight.

It was hard to explain, as the very thing that made him happy, also caused him so much distress. It was a good thing that Katsuki had made it to adulthood, and that he'd done well for himself so far, at least it appeared that way.
At the same time, seeing Katsuki like this, it was almost more than Izuku could take.

Katsuki had grown up. And Izuku hadn't been there to see it. Hadn't been there to watch as the scrawny teenager that he remembered had turned into the accomplished man that was standing in front of him right now.

There was something fundamentally wrong with that. It shouldn't have come this way.

Looking into Katsuki's face made it clear to Izuku that ten years had passed.
They had passed. And not only were they written all over Katsuki's face, but they were also a physical barrier rising between them. Izuku could literally feel it. Like an impenetrable wall of fog.

Like, they were standing here together in this room, but they could have just as well been on two different ends of a tunnel, looking at each other from afar.

Izuku forced himself to speak, "What are we doing here?"

Katsuki had dragged them here. After he’d recognized Izuku in the bar and rid himself of his initial shock, he'd grabbed Izuku by his elbow without further explanation and had dragged him along to this room.
Though the grip on his arm had been firm, but still gentle enough that he could have shaken it off at the slightest attempt, had he wanted to, it never occurred to Izuku to not go with him.

Maybe, he had been too startled for that.

Besides, Katsuki had let go of him as soon as they had come to a halt in this room anyway.

Izuku exhaled audibly. The spot on his arm where Katsuki had touched him was burning as if he’d been touched by fire, but it was quite possible he was just imagining it.
He tried not to let it distract him.

"What are we doing here?" He repeated, since his first question had been followed up with nothing but silence from Katsuki.

He stared Katsuki down. Gave himself permission to just … look. And let his thoughts run. Katsuki watched him in turn. He’d had his own eyes on Izuku the moment he’d turned on the light.

Izuku found that Katsuki looked at him as if he was a doe Katsuki had encountered on a walk in a forest and had caught in the ray of his flashlight. As if Izuku would frighten and run off at the slightest sound or movement.

He looked as if he wanted to stretch out to him with his hand, but did everything in his power not to. Hands tense and confined at his side.

Katsuki didn't answer the second question either. He was just standing there, body stiff and awkward. Seemingly not knowing whether he was supposed to take a step back or forward, remaining in the awkward limbo between.

Izuku felt as if the scene of the last time they’d met like this was repeating itself. It angered him.

What was the point of dragging him here, if Katsuki still couldn't bring himself to say something?

Izuku's tone was scathing when he said, "I swear to god Katsuki, if you go silent on me again, I'll fucking leave you here again. I'll go right now."

He didn't know where the steadiness of his voice came from. He didn't feel stable in any way.

Katsuki shifted, as if a full body shiver ran through him in the span of a second. His arms snapping forward, but he restored his composure in the same breath. He sank his arms back to his sides. And then he was just that confined statue again.
He spoke, "No– no." before pausing.

Izuku watched him take a shaky breath.

"I mean, please don't– run off again." Katsuki's gaze was ridden with guilt "I should have said more to you the last time. I should have – I should have said something."

This voice…

Izuku swallowed painfully, momentarily thrown off balance. He’d wanted Katsuki to talk, but now … Katsuki’s voice was so familiar, yet so different from what Izuku remembered it to be like. It still had the same rhythm and flow, yet it was deeper. And his enunciation had changed quite a bit too. Before Izuku could dwell on how terrible that change made him feel, he repeated his question from earlier. Voice meek and disarmed. As defeated as he felt.
Telling himself that it would be the last time he'd ask. That he'd actually leave if it went unanswered, just like he'd told Katsuki.

Finally, something in Katsuki seemed to stir. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, and when he spoke, he sounded determined, "I want, I want to explain everything to you, but I need to keep calm for that. And I can't do that when we're at the bar, with the loud music and all the others hearing what I'd say."

Something inside Izuku, some bitter, unregulated part, made him ask, "And what makes you think I'd listen?"
He didn't even know why he would ask that. It was the exact opposite of what he’d wanted to say. He wanted to know whatever it was that Katsuki would tell him.

He wanted to know everything, only that, every time he looked at Katsuki, there was this uncontrollable anger rising inside him. It overshadowed everything.

Katsuki looked... actually, Izuku couldn't tell what Katsuki looked like. His eyebrows were drawn together, and his mouth was a tight line, but Izuku couldn't tell what it meant.
He couldn't assess Katsuki like he used to anymore. When a quirk of his brow was enough to tell Izuku of his thoughts.

They spent a few moments watching each other, nothing else. Not even moving. It was simultaneously unbearably quiet and loud. Neither of them said anything and the silence of it was maddening, yet Izuku was hyper aware of the sound of his own breathing, Katsuki’s breathing. His heartbeat, beating right into his throat. The blood rushing in his ears. The volume of that was insufferable in its own way.

Izuku thought that, whatever expression Katsuki had, his own face probably mirrored it.
It looked closest to despair, and that was the most distinct emotion he felt right now.

Katsuki exhaled, "I– " he stopped, took an audible breath, began anew, "You don't have to listen, Izuku."

Something about the way he looked at Izuku was unnerving, like he could see straight through him, make out all his thoughts. Knew exactly how Izuku must feel. But he couldn’t. How would he? If Izuku had trouble doing that with Katsuki after ten years of no contact, then Katsuki couldn't be any better off.

"You can leave again, if you want to, but– I know this is very selfish and very ironic of me to ask, but-just, please don't run off again. I want to talk."

Izuku closed his eyes, nostrils flaring involuntarily. Ironic indeed. As if everything about the past ten years had just been one big joke.
He actually felt like he'd be sick, yet something kept him stuck to that place, to that spot right in front of Katsuki.

He wanted to leave, he really, really did, but he was also aware that, if he did leave now, he'd break down before he would reach the front door of his apartment.
There was just no way that he could do it a second time. It had been hard enough that first time.

"Talk to me then" he spat, grimacing around the words as if they had sharp edges Izuku was careful not to hurt himself with.

Katsuki's shoulders slacked. He whispered, "Okay." And then said it a second time shortly after, "Okay."

Apparently, Izuku's demand was all he needed to hear in order to relax. His arms went visibly less stiff at his sides. And tension stripped from his face.

"Izuku, I'm so glad to see you. You have no idea how glad I am, I've been–"

Izuku cut him off with a determined wave of his hands, "No, stop that."

Katsuki's eyes widened minutely. It was obvious that he hadn't expected Izuku to interrupt him. His mouth stayed open for a few awkward seconds, before he closed it, not knowing what to say.

Izuku's jaw set. He could feel a muscle twitch right under his eye, "You don't get to do this. You don't get to tell me how much you've missed me, Katsuki. Don't dare, when we both know that you had all the chance and time in the world to tell me this for the past decade, but you didn't. So leave it."

His voice contained more venom than he had intended, but Katsuki didn't seem to mind. He looked like someone who'd taken a hit, knowing that it was deserved.

He didn’t make the mistake of immediately speaking up. Instead, he gave Izuku enough time to cool down, to sort out his thoughts.

Only then he said, "I could explain it."

This did not have a good effect on Izuku. When Katsuki saw that, he added, "Only if you want to of course. I understand that I don't have the right to do this, I'm just saying that I owe you that much."

Yes

No

Please

Please don't...

Izuku crossed his arms, putting pressure on the place in his stomach that felt like the source from which his anxiousness originated.
He turned his head to the side, in an effort to evade answering, and the door handle came into view. It reminded him of something.

He could always leave, if he wanted to. He could walk right out of here, the moment he formulated the thought. He could just go.

But without answers.

Flexing his fist, he said, "Why you couldn't find the time to spare me a text? That we had to meet like this? By chance. After ten fucking years?" Izuku laughed, a sober, unamused sound, "No thank you. I don't think I want to know the reason for that."

He turned back to Katsuki, just in time to see how much his words must have stung.

Katsuki said, "That's fair. That's your right." Obviously in an effort to take out the pressure, but it didn't help at all that it looked like it strained him to say it.

Izuku scoffed. Katsuki ignored the sound.

"What is it that you do want to know? Just ask and I'll tell you everything."

It had started becoming very tiring to stay upright in front of Katsuki a while ago. Izuku put his head back, felt the coolness of the wall as he leaned against it more. Something about it soothed his nerves, at least to an extent. Like a cold compress that was pressed to a feverish forehead.
It gave him the courage to take the time to look at Katsuki, really look at him, and not immediately flinch at the pain.

Katsuki, with his hair. That was shorter than it had been ten years ago, but no less spiky. Neater. Mature. The shade was still the same.

His face, as pale as it had always been, but save for the scratches, wounds and bruises. It was comforting to know that that had changed at least.

His eyes, which had always been one of Izuku's favorite things to look at in Katsuki, were still the same as Izuku remembered.
Pure. Unadulterated and resilient.
No matter how much darkness Katsuki had been cast into in life, the light in them had never dimmed. Not once, not even a little.

Looking at him now, it seemed to Izuku that Katsuki was holding himself back tonight. More so than he'd done the last time that they'd met. When he had hugged Izuku. So sudden and unabashed.
It did not feel like that was going to happen again any time soon. Izuku was glad of it.

"Izuku." Katsuki said, voice soft and mellow. "Whatever you ask, I'll answer."

Izuku nodded, once, to let him know that he'd heard and then he started thinking. There were about a million questions at the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be spoken.
He forced himself to pick one of the easy things, one to which he could stomach the answer to.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was meeting with my friends. Mina and Sero have just come back from–"

Izuku interrupted him "No. I meant Tokyo. What are you doing here in Tokyo?"

"I live here."

"Since when?"

"Since I left."

Izuku closed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed with disappointment. In himself, in life, in everything. If he wasn't so fucking sad just now, he would actually be scared to lose his mind over this, because what the fuck?

So he's always been here? In Tokyo.

All this time. Izuku should have known. After all, wasn't that what they had said they would do? So many times. They had talked about this so many times. When they imagined what they wanted to do later, they'd always ended up agreeing on one thing, namely that Tokyo was where it all started.
They had promised, hadn't they?

Before Izuku knew it, he was laughing. It was a sound completely void of happiness or joy. If a laugh could sound hurtful, could sound defeated, if that didn’t go straight against what a laugh even was, then that's what he sounded like.

Maybe that was his version of an emotional outlet. Maybe his body had adapted in the face of this acute pain, and had morphed his laugh into something akin to crying. Just to help him cope.

Laughing like this, it didn't feel like enough. It didn't help him to process this at all. Izuku wanted– he wanted to smash things against a wall. Throw things over, tear something down. Or beat, or beat –

The next moment, he could feel a hand on his shoulder, it stopped his laughter instantly and even though he should have known it to be Katsuki, he still needed to open his eyes to confirm.

Katsuki had moved. For the first time that Izuku could recall since they entered this room, Katsuki had moved from that square feet of space on the floor that he’d confined himself to.

He was leaning closer to him now, and Izuku had no idea what to feel about that. His brain had shut itself down since the moment he'd tried to process that Katsuki had been living in the same city as him for years. That he'd been so close, and Izuku had been oblivious to it.

Katsuki's hand, the sensation of his palm against his shoulder. It was good, it was bad, it soothed him. It drove him mad.
It was–

"Izuku." Katsuki whispered, "Breathe."

Izuku did. He just followed Katsuki’s instructions. For a while, he just breathed.

And it was as if the oxygen revived the parts of his brain that had stopped responding. Suddenly, he remembered what this was. What was actually happening.
He shook off Katsuki's hand and scorned, "Don't tell me what to do."

Katsuki's hand reverted back to its initial place, pressed against his side. He stayed quiet.

"I have more questions." Izuku said, voice somewhere between raw and subdued, "but I don't think I can handle the answers to them now."

"What can I do to help? To make it better?"

Jokingly, Izuku said "You'd have to get me really, really drunk for this conversation to be even somewhat more tolerable."
It was nothing more than a joke, a bitter, sarcastic remark, containing, as all jokes did, maybe an ounce of truth. So it came as a complete surprise when Katsuki suddenly rushed away.

He moved towards the shelves, stepping in between two of them, searching for something, until he eventually pulled out a bottle from the rags. A dark one.
Izuku had trouble reading the label from such a distance, but he didn't care enough to try harder. Also, it didn't matter, as Katsuki went on to explain it in that moment.

In a detached voice, like, maybe if this wasn't the situation that it was, like, maybe under different circumstances, they could just slip into easy, lighthearted conversation, Katsuki said, "It's Junmai Ginjo. Just a few years, though. They don't have anything better."

He probably thought that the name was supposed to ring a bell for Izuku. It didn't, though Izuku had enough knowledge in alcoholic beverages to know that it was a type of sake.
And given that he couldn't remember having ever ordered anything of the likes in the past, it told him that it must be expensive. Or at least that it wasn't exactly cheap booze.

"I don't think we can just take that." He muttered. A little bit of sense returning to him then, enough to make him remember that it must definitely be illegal to just take random bottles of alcohol without paying for it.

"I'll settle the score with Camie later."

He didn't find it in him to protest. What for? If Katsuki wanted to play the patron, let him go ahead.

Katsuki wordlessly handed him the bottle, and Izuku took it without so much as looking at him.

He screwed it open and took a first, generous gulp. The scent came upon him a moment before the flavor did. It smelled and tasted distinctly floral. It was surprising that Katsuki had chosen this bottle, of all the ones that he could have taken out of the shelves.
Izuku was tempted to think of it as a misshapen, but deemed it impossible with the way that Katsuki had selected it. Had said the name, Junmai Ginjo, so assured and certain.

Somehow, it was just the right thing. Not too bitter, or earthy. Surprisingly fruity, more refreshing than anything, but not on the overbearing side.
It was just right. Just so that Izuku could easily drink a bit more of it and without pulling any faces at the taste.

He sunk his hand with the bottle back down, before deciding to sit down altogether. Standing was hard. Especially with the way that his muscles felt like they were slowly vanishing. Like spider venom.

He felt just like those insects, caught in a spider's web. Already bitten, they could only wait for the venom to spread. And feel as they slowly began to dissolve from within.

Katsuki followed him in sitting down, settling with his legs crossed in front of Izuku, so they were at eye level again.

In this new position, they were taking up even more space than when they had stood, but Izuku couldn't bring himself to believe that it really mattered.
He lifted the bottle to his lips and took another sip. And another one.

There were three distinct spots where their legs were touching. Izuku was hyper conscious of all three of them.

He took a third gulp of the sake for good measure before putting the bottle down again. This time, he sunk it all the way to the floor, though he didn't fully let go of it.

"Is it helping?" Katsuki's voice cut through the reverence of the moment. If it could be called that.

It'd been a strange silence until now. One that had echoed in Izuku's head.

"Yes." He answered curtly. "Let me think."

Katsuki abided. He closed his mouth and sat back, arms propped up behind him.

The alcohol did help. It made everything somehow...softer. Made it matter less. Made it possible for him to overlook the fact that what was happening now was absolutely insane and that he was really not okay with it.

Izuku sighed, "So you're friends with Shoto?"

It was the most logical move to start asking about the current point, and go back from there.

Katsuki's hand came to rest on his propped up knee, fingers flexing lightly, "Yes. We've been friends since College days."

"You went to College together?"

"No. Actually, we didn't. We technically knew each other since High school, but didn't start hanging out as a group until College. He was friends with Sero before we became friends."

Izuku was trying to sort out the new information, but it left a few things unanswered, and raised another few questions in general, yet he didn't ask Katsuki to elaborate.
In the end, it was all inconsequential. When they'd met. How they'd met. And the likes. What were those questions in the face of what he'd been trying to get answers to in the last decade?
Nothing.

And yet, just thinking about asking what he really wanted to know was enough to make his heart start beating frantically. Enough to make him feel the urge to get up and walk away. To flee.

It was hard to find middle ground between what he wanted to ask, and what he could handle knowing.

Izuku took another sip. The alcohol was beginning to show an effect on him, the movement of his hand less coordinated than it had been before. And his vision began to swim around the edges. Katsuki waited for him, unhurried. He sat there calmly, as if they both had all the time in the world. To be here, to sit here, to talk. Or stay silent.

"What were your thoughts when you saw me there last month?"

Katsuki frowned, "Honest answer?"

"Yes, but try to make it as factual as possible. No–" Izuku shook his head "No descriptions of emotions."

If there were any to begin with, he thought, and could almost feel the bitterness of it on his tongue if he concentrated enough. An unpleasant lingering aftertaste.

Katsuki nodded slowly and spent the next few seconds in thought, looking at nothing in particular. When he spoke, he did so without facing Izuku, but the spot located between where their legs tangled on the ground.

"When I saw you, I thought that I was dreaming. That I had passed out and this was the result of sudden alcohol induced delirium." He threw Izuku a glance.

Izuku looked decidedly away. It was weird looking at Katsuki. Apart from the pain, there was also this general uneasiness that pooled in his stomach at the sight. Now that he told Katsuki to knock off his emotions, it felt wrong to do it this way. When he could clearly see that there was something under the surface, only he didn't know what. Like Katsuki was a reflective lake, only shining back the tranquility of the outside world, and not what was hidden beneath the surface.

He had told Katsuki to keep his guard, but now that he did, he couldn't say if it was truly better.

"My second thought was that I wasn't dreaming, because by then I had hugged you. I had felt your form in my arms and I had realized that even my imagination wouldn't come close to the feel of that." He looked away again "I didn't think much more than that. I'm sorry, I know that this probably isn't a helpful answer, but I was kind of – you know, I was kind of overwhelmed and my brain wasn't up to speed with the happenings." Katsuki ended his speech sounding austere.

Izuku's hands felt useless, where they were resting on the ground. He didn't need them to hold himself up the way Katsuki did, he was leaning against the wall and had enough support, and he became aware of their uncomfortable tingling, dead-weight-like feeling in that moment.
He couldn't say whether he was doing it on purpose, redirecting his focus so he didn't have to spare a thought to what Katsuki had said, but it captured his attention all the same.
He squeezed and flexed them repeatedly. Every time he closed them, he could feel his fingernails biting into his palms, and something about that sensation calmed him, like some miniature catharsis.

It helped just so much that the moment passed, and he was closer to okay again. That was, he was still very far from it, but since he'd been wandering within these parameters for years now, not okay had become his normal. He could work with that.

He moved onto his next question without giving Katsuki a reply, "Did you know that I would come here today? Did Shoto tell you about that?"

It was, of course, obsolete to ask. There was no way that Katsuki's surprise upon seeing him could have been faked.
The only reason why he'd asked, was that he needed to stall. Had wanted to get himself more time, time to come down again.

Katsuki's mouth turned into a thin line, "No. I didn't know. I would have never guessed. Shoto did tell me about the fact that he was seeing someone, but he never dropped your name or gave even the slightest hint towards your identity. Believe me Izuku, I – If I'd known that you– " He halted, and his brows drew together in strain, "If I'd known that I would see you again here, I would have done it differently."

Now it was Izuku's acrid chuckle that resounded in the small room. He closed his eyes, and blindly made for the bottle with his hand, "In what way? What would you have done?"

When no answer came, he looked Katsuki square in the eyes. Since that first time, he'd looked more into his general direction, or other parts of his face, but now he made direct eye contact again, and waited. Tried to ignore the dryness of his own eyes, the burn that spread there.
Katsuki stared back, but stayed silent.
If he was planning on giving Izuku an answer, he knew how to hide it well.
After a while, Izuku realized that he must have gotten Katsuki short for words. He didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry about that.

"So you really never thought about it?" he asked, therefore.

Katsuki seemed apprehensive, "What do you mean?"

Izuku didn't believe for a second that Katsuki was as clueless as he pretended.
That was Bullshit.

Still, for the sake of stating the obvious, he elaborated, "You really never thought about seeing me again? All those years. Otherwise, you'd know how you'd do it. You wouldn't have to think about it this long."

"Izuku I– " Katsuki started.

"Save your breath. I don't want you to explain it."

"Izuku. I've missed you."

His body reacted faster than his mind had time to fully comprehend. He was recoiling, uselessly flinching at pain that could do no bodily harm.

He was too distracted to neutralize it as it came over him, and his face contorted. He brought himself to say something, to fend Katsuki off, words pressing past his lips in exhaustion, as if he'd just spent hours in the deepest, coldest winter, "You can miss someone and still not want to see them again."

He turned away again, but still had enough of a view of Katsuki from his periphery to see him lean back rapidly in response, as if he'd been struck.

It was silent between them again. Izuku didn't want to take a chance by asking another question, when the answers posed to be so treacherous.
Instead, he drank more, noting in the back of his mind that the bottle already was significantly lighter than at the beginning of their conversation.

By the time he brought it down again, it was half empty.

"I did want to see you again." Katsuki said, after a while. "I do want to see you again."

Izuku couldn't help but wonder what a sight he made. He imagined himself, as he sat there, on the floor, drinking uninhibitedly, and he had to suppress a giggle.
Yeah, surely Katsuki wanted to see this. Sure.

He shrugged, more to himself than anyone, "You don't seem so happy about it now. Tell me, am I living up to your expectation?"

It took him by surprise when Katsuki reached out suddenly. His eyes widened. Immediately, the alarm bells rang inside his head. Hadn't it been for the wall behind him, he would have backed away.
He was so drunk that he wasn't able to stand up as fast as would have been necessary to dodge Katsuki's hand, at least not without losing his balance in the next breath, so he didn't even attempt that.

To his infinite relief, he came to realize that Katsuki hadn't tried for him, but the bottle on the floor to his feet.

Taking a hearty sip from it, Katsuki gave him a calculated look. He turned the bottle in his hand slowly, "I am happy."

His gaze flickered to the floor, "If you'll allow me, I'll tell you just how happy I am."

"No."

The word left his mouth, before he even had the chance to think about whether it was truly what he had wanted to say.

Katsuki showed no reaction, didn't reveal what he thought about Izuku denying him so quickly.

Izuku exhaled raggedly, before holding out his hand.

Katsuki saw, and it took him a moment to understand, but then he handed over the bottle wordlessly. When Izuku grabbed it, he paid extra mind to making sure that their fingers wouldn't touch at the handover.

He swallowed another mouthful of the liquor, not entirely sure why he was doing it at this point.
If he continued at this rate, he would soon no longer be in any state to carry a meaningful conversation.

He reasoned with himself for a bit, before ultimately raising it back to his lips.

Only when Katsuki asked for it did he stop.

It happened more than once, Katsuki asking for it, so it came that they began passing it between them, but always entirely without words. They were both just respectively holding out their hands, waiting for their turn. The only difference was that Katsuki said thank you every time that Izuku handed it over, and Izuku did not.
Soon enough, the bottle was empty. And Izuku, not drunk enough yet, still had enough dignity about him to not ask if Katsuki could retrieve another one from the shelves.

Suddenly, Katsuki cleared his throat and rubbed his hands over his jeans. He looked unsure again, and Izuku began to wonder what had caused the sudden change, but then he spoke.

"Can I ask you something, too?"

"It depends." Izuku sounded unsure himself, but unlike Katsuki, he did try to cover it up. When he went on to ask "Will it hurt?", he made sure that it sounded more like a bitter, sarcastic remark, than a serious inquiry.

"I can't tell you that."

Izuku gave him an annoyed look.

Katsuki shrugged faintly, "Sorry. It depends on you. I'll only know based on your answer."

Izuku waved at Katsuki in return, to spur him on.

Though when Katsuki asked him what he'd had on mind, Izuku wished that he would have given himself a bit more time to prepare.

"You didn't miss me too much, did you?"

Izuku laughed, he actually laughed, "Fuck you, Katsuki."

He couldn't be serious, actually. This was not seriously something that he needed to ask? Right?
And if so, what made him think that he had any right to? He was unbelievable.

Izuku kicked out with his leg faintly, but Katsuki stayed unmoving. He just let the wave of Izuku's obvious resentment pass over him as if it was little more than a breeze, he was unfazed. Izuku didn't like this. The way Katsuki forbid himself any type of reaction in an effort to keep Izuku level. He had said that this was what he wanted, but now, it felt more like he was talking to a memory. Something that couldn't call back to him.

Something about that thought struck him the wrong way. He couldn't will the corners of his mouth to their previous place, so instead they stayed pulled comically upwards.
It felt unsettling and that was kind of the only thing he could focus on. That it felt like even his face muscles were out of his control.

He threw a counter question at Katsuki to distract himself. It was a new phenomenon to him, that he lashed out when he was hurt, but that was probably due to the fact that before now, he always made sure that nobody was around when he was hurt.
He was facing a point somewhere over Katsuki's shoulder, "Do you need this? For me to tell you that I was okay after? Or do you want me to tell you the opposite? That I missed you so much that you left an empty space? That there was a void, where you departed? That I felt a vacancy in the space you left?"

Katsuki seemed as though Izuku had taken him off guard. It was obvious that he was struggling for words. Eyes trailing over Izuku's face, trying to figure out whether his scathing tone was to be trusted. Though the glint in them told on Katsuki, and revealed that he was hoping it wasn't. When eventually, Katsuki's eyes narrowed, Izuku took that as a sign that he must have made his judgement.

Good. Izuku thought. Good that you get to feel this, too. For once.

Eventually, Katsuki said "I don't know." Shrugging half aborted, tired movement pulling at his shoulders. He sounded impossibly exhausted when he said, "Both? Neither?"

"Oh god," Izuku laughed again, which came entirely unexpected for him. He hadn't felt himself leading up to it, and that displeased him. It wasn't entirely comfortable for him how emotional his reactions were.
He didn't like how unpredictable he was to himself. That he couldn't tell how every new thing that Katsuki said would make him feel.

He shook his head slowly in disbelief, "You could have just lied, you know."

Katsuki's eyes softened, "I won't lie to you."

That is a lie, was the first thing that Izuku thought.

Anymore, was the second one. That's the word that Katsuki had left unsaid. Nevertheless, Izuku could hear it echo like a pendulum in his mind, cracking fissures wherever it hit.

He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest, restoring the space between them that had gotten lost when Izuku had involuntarily leaned forward in laughing. "Sure. For your honesty, I'll do you a favor, too. That is, I won't burden you with the finality of an answer." He sneered, "Make up your own mind. You decide which of the two options it was."

Katsuki didn't respond to that. Izuku hadn't expected him to.

They spent the next few minutes in silence. And though it had felt like the only bearable state at the beginning of this, Izuku had enough of it now.

He made to stand up, startling Katsuki with his sudden movement, "Actually, I think this conversation was already very enlightening. Thank you for answering Katsuki."

Katsuki's reaction time was faster than Izuku had anticipated. Obviously, since he hadn't drunk nearly as much as Izuku had.

He was quick to his feet, and managed to catch Izuku unprepared by reaching out to him.

It was impossible to tell what he perceived first, the warm engulfment of the hand on his wrist, or the chest pressed, almost but not quite, to his back.
There was an acute heat emanating from Katsuki, and it was actively fucking Izuku over. It was puzzling. That it was possible for him to be this warm, when Izuku had arduously fought off his shivers for the last fifteen minutes.

He was so close to shaking Katsuki's hand off again, and it was only the heat that had made him halt these few seconds, but by that point Katsuki already knew the spiel. He let go faster, drawing his hand back as if he'd touched acid.

"Wait–wait. Please" He called out, voice louder than was necessary in a room of this size and with how close they were standing together.

It was conflicting for Izuku, to feel such a strong desire to go, as well as such a strong desire to stay. To do as his mind told him to do. To get himself out of this torture scene. Or to do as Katsuki asked. To wait.
He settled on sinking his hand down, away from the door handle, but he didn't turn back around. A compromise.

There was breath hitting his neck, hot and humid, and it raised goosebumps even more than the cold of the room had.

"Can we.." Katsuki started. "Can we talk again?"

"What for?"

"Izuku." Katsuki breathed "Come on."

"I don't see the point."

"The point is, that I –" A hand appeared in front of him. Katsuki leaned against the door, an arm propped next to Izuku's head. Not quite caging him.
At least he didn't feel like that was Katsuki's intent.

"The point is that I need to see you again."

His voice was half agony, half pleading. It was the first time in this entire conversation that he acted like a fucking human being, with feelings and everything that it entailed. It showed clearly now that Katsuki was just as affected by this.

In a twisted way, Izuku enjoyed hearing him like this. He had expected to feel so bad, which was why he had instructed Katsuki to stay away from showing too much emotion. But now? Now it felt so satisfying to hear the threads of misery woven into Katsuki's voice.
It felt like he deserved this.

Izuku was unresponsive, but Katsuki apparently interpreted the lack of outrage or immediate opposition as a cue to go on.

"You don't have to answer now. You don't even have to say yes. Just please. Please think about it? Can I ask that of you?"

Words breathed against his neck. Izuku could feel the hairs at his nape rise up in response.

He inhaled. Slowly, deliberately. He was nearly crushing the door handle in his grasp, fingers feeling so stiff with how tightly he had them closed around it.

"We'll see." He exhaled, and pushed the handle down.

He knew what he said next was a low blow, yet another punch he threw Katsuki's way, but there was this visceral desire to say it, to get it out of him. He spent too long with the words trapped inside of his own head, it was well overdue that he released them.

"In the meantime, try not to think about me anymore and don't come looking."

And Izuku didn't wait to witness the aftereffects of his words on Katsuki. To bask in his reaction. He left him in the storage room and broke free into the club again.

Chapter Text

The weekend was the worst. That's when Izuku faced the brunt of the blow. He would have never thought that seeing Katsuki again would come with so much pain, but it did. He felt like, now that it had happened twice, he was right in assuming that it hurt. 

That it will probably hurt each time he'll see Katsuki again.

It's ironic, because Izuku had always thought - had always been convinced, that it would be some kind of relief. Pain relief. 

For the longest time Izuku had believed that Katsuki's absence was the only thing that could hurt him like this, but he knew better now. 

It turned out that Katsuki's presence was just as painful, under the right circumstances. 

It was truly, genuinely ironic. 

So the weekend right after was the worst. 

Izuku spent most of his time holed up in his bed, head under the covers in an attempt to drown out the light, the cold and most of all the noise. He didn't want to be in touch with the world. He dreamed of falling right out of it.  

Though it was a futile effort. After all, the noise that bothered him came from deeply within his own mind. 

It were his thoughts that had turned on him. They just wouldn't stop running rampant. 

It was weird, since it felt like for the first time in a very long time, he had stopped actively thinking about Katsuki, and yet his head wasn't empty. 

More so, he was so so full of so many thoughts cursing through his mind at the same time, that everything jumbled together into some great, undecipherable black mass. A mess of thoughts, too big and too tangled for any possible orifice, and by that condition sentenced to be stuck in his head for the time being.

It was horrible, he felt horrible.

Therefore, it surprised him a little how easy it was to fight the urge to drink again. 

Usually, when he felt this awful, he spent days reasoning with himself on that front. It was a war of tug, always asking himself whether it would really do the harm that he feared it would. 

With the suffering part of his being assuring him that it wouldn't do as much harm as he feared. That it was easy to hide. That nobody had to know. 

And still, when the responsible part of Izuku managed to still remain steadfast by that point, it began asking. Asking for help. Asking to please be relieved of the sorrows. So long until Izuku would inevitably relent. Out of pity for himself. 

But now the urge didn't even resurface. 

It was hard to describe for him in what state he was in, but after he'd left Katsuki at the bar, it was as if a wall had dropped on his mind. A big wall, neither penetrable for the outside, nor passable for his own spirit. 

He took close to nothing of his surroundings in, and in turn, even less of what was already in his mind managed to get out. 

He didn't feel the urge to drink, in the same way that all of his other urges waned. Receding into some far away part of himself that he couldn't access. He was losing parts of himself again, parts that made him human, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

He forgot to eat. He barely kept himself hydrated. Barely even left the bed to take a piss. 

If it wasn't for his preset alarms, he would have eventually forgotten all concept of time, too. 

So, he spent the weekend in another haze. Physically present, but mentally scattered. It was not the first time that it happened. The feeling was nothing new to him. He wasn't alarmed. 

Haze was ... he was acquainted with it. How sometimes, certain things affected him in ways that it never seemed to do with others. 

How he couldn't watch sad movies, because he'd end up thinking about it for weeks on end, when for everyone else, it tended to slip their minds in the same night. 

That his emotional landscape was that of a pond, and that even meager objects with little volume could throw big waves on the surface. Would manage to disturb his mind. That he had to be cautious of this, when for others, it never seemed to take much of an effect.  

And that big disturbances tended to do this to him. Haze. 

For Izuku, haze was just something that happened at times. He just kind of ... faded. He was there, but he was less. 

On the following Monday, he got to work, thanks to a combination of his carefully built work ethic as well as the gratitude he felt for scoring the position, which, despite everything that had happened, was still present. Faint, but there.  

Strings. It was little more than strings, but it was enough to keep him upright, to keep him moving forward. 

Strings were all that it took to move a puppet around, which was what he felt like.  

And then, for the first two days or so, everything became a little easier. A little better. A little more real. A little less hazy. 

The contours of his surroundings were solidifying again. He regained the feeling of his physical body. He had his two feet on the ground again. 

That was something. Coming back into himself. 

Work kind of put a stop to the dissociation. Or, at least being around his coworkers allowed Izuku to pretend that it did.  

It was almost easy to just continue and act like nothing happened. There was so much stuff going on at work, with Izuku being introduced to the company as a permanent member of staff and all. So many meetings to take part in, so many ceremonies to attend, just so much work that needed to be done, that it was very easy to submerge himself in it. To let himself slip right in there. The waves. And be guided by their currents. 

Work followed him into his apartment, too. It didn't just stop when office hours came to an end. 

Maybe now more than ever before, Izuku felt grateful that work as a lawyer was always so inexhaustible and all consuming.  

With his new position, it seemed that the company had significantly increased the difficulty of the cases that he was allowed to work on. 

It became apparent in many ways, but most firmly in the way that he couldn't stop thinking about his current case, even when he was back in his apartment. A new development. 

Right on his first day as a permanent employee, he was made to join Jirou on the case she'd been working on these past few weeks. Before, all information about it had been locked behind a security wall, and only a selected few people had been able to access, Izuku, a mere intern then, not having been among them of course. 

He was on the case for only a few days, but it was already so different from everything else he'd done before. 

It caught his attention in the way that none of his  before had ever done, when he'd done textbook stuff like wedding annulments and divorces. Something where, generally, all the parties agreed on the proceedings and little to no resistance was offered. 

This one was the first really difficult one, because it engaged him emotionally. 

It mattered now, that each step Izuku and the team took was precisely measured and tuned to what's the best for their client. 

There was a child involved in the legal drama. An off the text books custody story. With a bunch of additional complications. It was all about making sure that the child would get the best possible outcome out of this. If they failed to convince the judge of their appeal, this child would face the consequences. Would have to live with the reality that they created for it. 

If they failed, it would directly impair the child's development for years to come. Izuku couldn't have that. 

If there was one thing that Izuku had managed to hold onto in these past ten years, it was his dedication to work. The belief that there was something that he needed to do. 

So work gave him that. The opportunity to blend out all the rest. 

To ignore that Shoto was blowing up his phone, ever since Izuku had brushed past him and his friends at the bar without so much as a word, trusting that Katsuki would do all the necessary explaining. He'd found it hard to imagine that Katsuki wouldn't, but judging by the missed calls, Katsuki must have been more sparse with his words than Izuku had been willing to give him credit for. He couldn't explain to himself why else Shoto would still call. 

He lost his momentum on Wednesday, which was to be expected. He could never go on like this for too long. Haze always managed to catch up to him eventually. From experience, Izuku knew that it wasn't just something he could wish away by pretending it wasn't happening. It was something he had to let pass over him, like you would a dark cloud, casting you into shadow. You had to live in the darkness for the time being. There was no instant solution to magic it away.   

From that point on, it became noticeably more difficult. 

And the haze was not the only reason contributing to that.

Among all the advantages that came with the permanent position, there was also an issue. An issue particular only to Izuku, because of the way that he was, because of the quirks woven into the fabric of his being. 

He was now alleged to working remotely and that posed a problem only, since he was the type that needed an outside pressure forcing him to show up at his workplace. He just couldn't do it on his own. He'd learned something about himself over the years, and it was that, if there was even just the slightest gap to escape into, he forced himself through it. He always slipped away. It was easier, after all, to go than to stay. 

If law school hadn't been paid for partially by his mom, he would have probably never had the motivation to finish it. He would have slipped away, too.  

In the current situation, now that he didn't absolutely have to go to the office anymore, it became harder for him to find the motivation to do so. 

Further amplified by the realization he made after the first three days of work. Despite his initial worry, the case was coming together smoothly.

Under different circumstances, this would have delighted Izuku, and it still did now. Only that, on another note, he couldn't help but rue that he'd already lost this powerful distraction. Something that could pull him in, take up all of his attention. 

This had been his last pillar. 

He was utterly defenseless now. 

With no hard edges to smooth or soften, there was nothing he could get hung up on, and his mind was vulnerable for other things to invade. 

Not to mention that working from home saved him the gas money and he wasn't in any position financially to pass out on such an economic advantage. He had student debt to pay off after all. 

Eventually, as all things did, even the work week drew to a close and things caught up with him on Friday. 

Izuku worked from home again, because he hadn't managed to overrule the sickening feeling of dread he'd woken up with that morning. 

Since today, his thoughts had begun clearing up, to the point at which he could tell them apart from one another. 

He was on lunch break, had officially clocked out of the online system for the time being, and for some reason he couldn't stop thinking about Shoto . 

And he'd realized that he'd been thinking about Shoto for quite some time. 

Shoto, his flirt, though that description didn't feel like it did him justice.  Shoto, the person that Izuku had dated for just a few weeks. Such a short time span, that it didn't warrant Izuku thinking about him so much now. And yet, he did. 

It was obvious that Katsuki was on his mind. There wasn't a single day in the past ten years that Izuku hadn't thought about him. 

But now Shoto was there, too. And it became too crowded in there for Izuku's liking. 

It was beginning to distract him at work, and he couldn't have that. Work was too important. 

Ten minutes before his lunch break ended, Izuku couldn't take it anymore, the nerve wracking, and the doubts, so he reached for his phone, knee-jerk-reaction, and he wrote the text he knew was long overdue. 

This time, Izuku came with public transport. Shoto's flat wasn't that far from his, and he had needed the extra few minutes and the fresh air to ground himself in preparation for the conversation he'd be having now.  

Walking had always been his go to fix-all. Or well, his take-the-edge-off, if drinking wasn't viable. 

As Izuku stood before it, the door was as tall and as intimidating as he remembered. It took barely a ring and then Shoto opened the door. 

It's as if a waft of cold air overcame Izuku at that moment. 

Shoto was standing in the doorway, expression unreadable. Immediately, Izuku could tell that there was something off about him. 

He was wearing his usual attire, suit pants and a button down. And it was as perfectly steamed as always, but not just the first, but the first two buttons were left open, as well as the lowest one. 

There was an uncomfortable tension in the air, and Izuku couldn't think of what to say to ease it. 

It was Shoto who made the first move. Again, it was him and never Izuku who took the initiative. 

"Hey."

Izuku  smiled uncomfortably. "Hey."

They didn't hug, and it's not as if they would have done that before, but now Izuku felt that there was a different note to the cautiousness. It was distance.

Shoto left his response uncommented, just gestured for Izuku to come in, so he did. 

Inside, Izuku did the polite thing and took off his shoes, and then, when he noticed Shoto leaving, he followed wordlessly after him into the living room. 

There was a black cardigan draped over one of the couch armrests, but apart from that, nothing was amiss. 

Shoto settled in the middle of the room, which left Izuku to halt and come to stand awkwardly  in the doorway leading into the space. 

"So" Shoto began, crossing his arms in front of his chest "You have to explain this to me."

Izuku averted his eyes. It was weirdly guilt-trippy for him when he looked Shoto in the eyes, so he didn't.

He swallowed dry, "I understand that you might be confused. I will. Explain this. But first, I want to apologize for ignoring you until now."

"Don't worry about that."

Izuku frowned. "No, that wasn't okay of me. I sincerely apologize for it, I should have come clean about this to you sooner. I'm sorry I've left you waiting this long."

Shoto's gaze didn't change "Well, you can do it now."

"Yes" Izuku cleared his throat. "Yes" he said again, while trying to find a beginning in the mess of it all. Some place he could pinpoint from which onward he could begin to map this out for Shoto. 

He had made the decision to tell him everything. Now that Shoto was somehow involved in it, not just by the fact that Izuku had dragged him into his personal messes, but also because he was, in a way that Izuku didn't fully understand, acquainted with Katsuki himself, it was the least that he deserved. The full picture. 

"Katsuki and I have known each other since we were children." Was what Izuku settled on. Then he looked back at Shoto. 

Shoto was also watching him, he let his assessing gaze wander over Izuku. He was trying to be subtle, Izuku could tell, but it was still obvious what Shoto thought of what he was seeing. The sight concerned him. 

Admittedly, Izuku was in bad condition. He didn't like to see it that way, but he definitely looked the part. Crumpled shirt, old washed out jeans that should have probably been retired two years ago. Compromised shoes. All in all, it had seen better days. Izuku, too. 

His jaw set, he continued "We lived in the same neighborhood, too. A small village closest to Daigo, located in the Ibaraki prefecture. Calling it a village is actually too nice. That place was a dump." He ran his hand through his hair, reminding himself that he shouldn't get worked up over the wrong details. He didn't retract the hand, but let it stay there, for he found that it was easier to concentrate when had something he could twist his fingers around. A nervous habit. 

He couldn't help himself from stalling one more time, "Listen Shoto, I'll explain. But what I'm going to tell you now, I've never told anyone else. Before I proceed, I need to know what Bakugo has told you so far." 

This was harder for him than he had allowed himself to imagine. He hadn't said much, but still, getting each word out had come close to forcing them out of his mouth like pulling teeth. 

Shoto did something weird then. Some twist of his face. He looked perplexed "Bakugo?"

Izuku frowned. "Yes. Bakugo Katsuki." His throat doing weird spasms around the name. 

Shoto made that face again. "You mean Kirishima Katsuki?"

Somewhere in the middle of this conversation, Shoto had found the time to sit down. Izuku hadn't followed him to it initially, but suddenly he was losing all strength in his legs and he had to sit down, in order not to fall instead. 

His voice was cut off and grating, like the incontinuous stream of drawing chalk over a blackboard, "Katsuki ... Kirishima?"

Shoto noticed the change in Izuku, but it seemed as though he couldn't understand where it was coming from, what could have brought it upon Izuku so suddenly. He went on, "Yes, my friend Katsuki? The one you talked to last week."

Izuku closed his eyes. 

This was a mistake. 

Katsuki is married? 

His fingers twitched in his hair. He grasped tightly, and his scalp began to sting. He grasped tighter.

When did that happen? 

Whatever defenses Izuku might have subconsciously held up when coming here, they all dropped now. 

Shaking his head in disbelief, he asked again, "What has Katsuki told you?", because he desired this to be over now more than anything. He didn't know how long he would still be able to sit here and keep up the pretense of being fine. To act that he wasn't falling apart right this instance.

There was an awkward moment when Shoto's hand was reaching out, Izuku seeing it in his periphery, but it stalled midway and eventually retracted. 

When Shoto spoke, his voice was clear and unperturbed, like a riverbed, and it didn't let on about that moment of uncertainty, "Not much. He was very closed off about you." He shrugged in an almost sly, almost flustered way "I think I've pierced it together myself, mostly." 

Their eyes met. "Katsuki was the one you were talking about, right?" 

Izuku nodded, because moving was easier than talking, required less concentration.

They were silent. 

Slowly, like skimming foam off a water surface, Izuku tried to gather his thoughts. It didn't take too long before he was able to talk again. "Katsuki and I, we. We became friends when he started school." Every word hurt. "He quickly became the closest friend that I had. And I think I was his only friend. You have to know, Katsuki fought a lot with the kids in the neighborhood."

Shoto didn't respond to anything that Izuku said, just listened intently, which was probably better anyway. It was taking everything in Izuku to keep on stringing together sentences, and he didn't know if he could still do it with any distractions. 

"We were, I don't know." He shook head "We were really close, but Katsuki didn't have it easy at home. I'll have to spare you the details. It's not really my place to share this, if Katsuki didn't already." He looked apologetically at Shoto "Anyway. We talked about leaving the town a handful of times. Later. When we were older. I never took it that seriously." He had to pause here. Finally he moved his hand back into his lap, tingling with the blood flow. "I mean, I was serious about it, but I thought that there was still so much time. I thought that we would wait until we had both grown up." 

That was the point when he let his head fall into his hands. "I, of course, had an idea of what was going on, but I didn't truly know how bad Katsuki had had it then. My mother spared me the full picture, and as a child, I never paid much attention to signs of abuse. I had-" he heaved a sigh, "I know now that I didn't know shit back then." 

Shoto did something that surprised Izuku then. He comforted him, his expression had softened significantly "That's very understandable Izuku. Who would expect you to know?" 

Gratefully, Izuku reciprocated the smile, but it's more sheepish than anything. He didn't agree,  but continued speaking anyway "Soon after Katsuki turned thirteen, he left for good. Without much notice in advance." A nervous laugh managed to slip past the seal of his lips. Izuku didn't try to cover it "You can imagine what a ruckus that caused. There was an entire investigation started. Nobody knew where Katsuki had gone."  

But I should have. I should have known. 

Izuku didn't voice that thought. 

Instead, he said "I can't believe he managed to get as far as Tokyo. Ibaraki prefecture isn't too far away, but for a destitute child to travel that route alone. I had deemed it impossible."

Shoto reached out with his hands. Grasped Izuku's. And it wasn't weird, because the little inkling of a romantic flame they'd had was nowhere to be found in that grasp.

No, this was the embrace of a friend. Just a friend that comforted another one.

And it was enough to snap Izuku out of the serenity he'd fallen into momentarily. The mere fact that Shoto had felt the need to comfort him, after Izuku had treated him this unfairly, made Izuku gain that little bit of clearance. As much as his manners demanded. 

After everything that went on, he shouldn't dump all of this emotional baggage on Shoto. He wasn't his fifteen year old self anymore, for god's sake, he was an adult. So he should know how to handle his emotions better at this point. How to get by on his own.

He tightened the grip for a second, and then let go. Pulling his hand back in his own lap, he went on more collected "The point is, nobody knew where Katsuki was. He never contacted anyone after that, as far as I'm concerned. After a while, the investigation just tattered off into nothing and everyone in the village stopped talking about him. I hadn't given up the hope, yet. I went to online college for the first year of university, because I had hoped for a miracle to happen, that Katsuki would come back. And by staying, I made sure that he'd know where I was. When I was nineteen, the news about his death reached me, from what I thought was a reliable source. With that, it shattered the rest of the hope I'd managed to preserve. I moved away to Tokyo shortly after. I tried to start over, but–" Another laugh, somber in tone this time, broke out of him "I think you know best that I didn't really manage to do that." 

The distance and the cool treatment that had been there between them ever since Shoto had answered the door, was ebbing away now. Izuku could feel the two of them slowly warming up to each other again. 

He still had no idea what Shoto was thinking, but no matter what, his thoughts about Izuku must have turned a little more considerate after he'd been let in on the truth. There was little of the hardness from earlier to be found in his gaze, when he regarded Izuku now. Izuku wasn't sure if he deserved that. To be given lenience. 

Shoto moved slightly, the pillows at their backs shifting, "That's a lot to take in at such an early age, too. How old were you when it happened?" 

"I was fifteen." 

If possible, Shoto's gaze took on even more of the gentleness. "I didn't know that about Katsuki. I didn't know he went through so much. He never said anything, which is understandable of course." 

Izuku could tell that there was somehow more to this than Shoto let on. He did seem compassionate for Katsuki, that was out of the question, but there was an underlying feeling, one that he didn't show. 

Izuku couldn't pin it down exactly, but from all the experience he had when it came to complicated, multi-faceted feelings in himself, he'd make the assumption that it was pain. Shoto seemed hurt. 

Izuku couldn't have said what it was that propelled him to say the following "And now he's here, and I should be happy,  I really should. This is what I always wanted, but truth be told. I'm angry. I'm so angry at him all the time. And I don't know what to think about that." Izuku exhaled "I should be happy, I should. I mean, he's alive. Which is all I ever wanted. Only now that my longed-for miracle has manifested itself in reality and adheres to its rules, it concludes to all these complicated follow-up questions and implications. Now, I can't just be happy that he's here. Now I also wonder why he's here, and why he never said anything. Why he went no contact." With every more word that he uttered, Izuku's voice was taking on more of that frenzied, desperate note he tried so hard to suppress. The more he sounded like the person he tried to keep hidden within, "I don't even know if I want this. I think I don't want to be this angry, I just want to be happy, but I see no way past it. Every time I even just think about this, I get so enraged, I feel it like a physical sensation taking over me, filling every crevice and every hollow space. I'm awful. This is fucked up." When Izuku ended, he put his head back in his hands. He was not crying, he was just tired. So fucking tired.

He was thinking that maybe he admitted to it to make Shoto feel better. Because Shoto had looked conflicted about feeling sorry for Katsuki, as well as feeling sorry for himself, because Katsuki never told him. Izuku had thought that if only he showed him how fucked up he really is, Shoto wouldn't feel so bad about himself. Only now he's not so sure if it helped at all. 

Shoto seemed paralyzed, stiff as a rod, which causes Izuku to grow even more insecure. 

Maybe that was it. He'd said it all now, didn't he? Maybe he should leave now.  

Only then, Shoto spoke "No, Izuku, this isn't fucked up of you. It's understandable why you'd feel this way." He was reaching out with his hand again. A warm comforting weight on Izuku's shoulder. 

As much as he would have liked to force himself not to, he couldn't help but revel in it. Just that little bit of contact was enough to make him feel better, significantly, and he hadn't even realized that he had craved it, until now. 

Still, at the same time he was bothered by the circumstances leading up to it. Shoto comforting him meant that Izuku had made the impression that he needed it. Which hadn't been his attention at all.

This conversation was for Shoto. He'd come here to give Shoto closure. And not, so that he could be comforted by him. 

For Shoto's sake, he'd tried to deliver this as neutral as possible, but it was evident that he'd failed. 

Izuku tensed and with the hand on his shoulder, Shoto immediately noticed, his expression turning even more compassionate, and Izuku became only more pissed at himself. 

Shoto used to not look at him like that. 

This was the reason why he hadn't wanted to tell anyone about any of this in the first place. 

Shoto and him, they'd had something easy and carefree going on, but it was over now. Someone who looked at him the way Shoto looked at him now, would never be able to see in Izuku anything but the broken person that he was ever again. The damage was done, and it was irreversible. 

Suddenly, Shoto made to stand up. The movement was so sudden, yet fluid, that it didn't even grant Izuku the time to be startled. Without another word, Shoto started walking into the direction of the kitchen, and Izuku watched him go. 

And then Izuku was alone. He was sitting on Shoto's couch, and the realization he'd just had fully sunk in. Absentmindedly, he began running his fingers through the velvet of the couch, like he'd done once before. 

Shoto will not want to see me again after this. 

This is it. 

It took a while until Shoto returned. Just so long that Izuku had begun wondering if he was supposed to leave, only that he decided to wait. If Shoto had wanted him to go he would have just said so, never one to beat around the bush.

To Izuku's surprise, Shoto was carrying a kettle with him in his left hand. Two colored mugs in the right.

"I made us tea." Shoto settled back on the couch, this time a little closer to Izuku than he'd had before. 

One of the mugs was placed in front of Izuku, the other Shoto put in front of himself. Afterwards, he began pouring the tea into both of them. The color of the tea let on that it was most likely ginger tea. When he was done, Shoto said, "This might sound weird now, but I want to tell you something as well."

"Okay."

"I know I never really talked about my family with you, but this feels like a fitting occasion" Shoto laughed awkwardly. "This sounds really, really weird now, but it feels so freakishly coincidental, I feel like I ought to tell you."

Izuku was truly confused now. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to of course. Please don't feel pressured."

"I want to tell you" Shoto clarified, voice steady "I told you about my father, didn't I? And that he sent me to get IQ tested when I was still really young."

"Yes, you did."  

Shoto nodded "He did that with all of my siblings."  

Izuku's eyes widened. He'd never asked Shoto about his siblings. Truth be told, he didn't even know Shoto had any right until two seconds ago. 

"You have siblings? How many?"  

That was the wrong question to ask. Shoto winced, faintly, but Izuku saw anyway. 

"Three. But that's kind of what I was alluding to. See, my father made all of us get tested. Out of my siblings, I wasn't the only one with satisfying results. My oldest brother Toya. " Shoto halted, "His results were even better than mine. He was, right from the start, chosen to become my father's successor. Only, as the years went by, it became apparent that Toya had a specific constitution. He had a dissociative identity disorder. My father was of the opinion that it made him unfit to continue his training, so he told Toya as much, but Toya couldn't just stop after that. It was as if the desire to step into my father's footsteps was consuming him. Like a fire that slowly ate away at him from within, I never understood him in that regard, actually. The whole ordeal cast a shadow over our family. My scar is a result of that, as you know. And that's the only visible effect it had. You can imagine all that went on behind the curtains. It was brutal. Toya he–" Shoto struggled around his next words "When Toya was thirteen, he had an accident. He snuck into my father's lab with nobody knowing. The staff hadn't notified my father, because he hadn't told them about the diagnosis. Still, It shouldn't have been a problem. Technically, Toya was well versed with the machines, but then he dissociated. And he, he –"

Izuku placed a hand on Shoto's where it rested in between them  "It's okay. I can think of the rest. You don't have to get into detail."  

Shoto smiled at him gratefully, "Toya was in the hospital for half a year. When he was released, he insisted on living alone, and he never came back home. At eighteen, he cut off ties permanently. My father blamed my mother for not keeping watch over him, and my mother as well as my siblings blamed him, because he neglected Toya after his diagnosis."

It took Izuku a moment to respond "I don't know what to say, Shoto. This is. This is horrible. I'm sorry doesn't cut it, but I, really, I'm so sorry."  

Shoto looked off to the side, smile strained "Thank you. But this isn't why I'm telling you. I'm. I'm okay, mostly. I'm telling you, because I want you to know that I understand you. Deeply."  

It was late into the night when their conversation finally did come to an end. Izuku surprised himself by staying so long, contrary to his initial assumption. Also, that he had managed to stay calm, continue this conversation, as opposed to collapsing and dissipating on the floor after that part about Katsuki.

There was a lot they had still wanted to talk about, but it had never been the plan for Izuku to stay over so he had to leave now, if he wanted to be home before midnight.

And when he told Shoto as much, the other man insisted on walking him to the door. Actually, Shoto had offered to drive Izuku, but he couldn't get himself to accept that. 

That was too much to ask, especially considering that they weren't a thing anymore as of just now. They had talked about that, too. And as Izuku had assumed, they had amicably settled on being nothing more than friends. 

When they were at the door, Shoto made an awkward shift, "Wait, before you go, " he said, stopping Izuku in his tracks. Shoto reached for something on the shoe rack. 

"There's something I still wanted to give you." He said, as he dropped something into Izuku's hand. 

Just from the feel of it, Izuku could tell it was a note. Looking down, his suspicions were confirmed. It was a white note, frenzied at the edges. It had  obviously been ripped off from some bigger note pack.

When Izuku raised one of his eyebrows questioningly, Shoto explained "Katsuki asked me to give this to you the next time I'd see you."

Izuku's expression fell. He instantly closed his hand into a fist, and could hear as the paper in it  crumpled. 

Shoto seemed hesitant, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, ask is the wrong word, really. More like, he threatened to fight me if I didn't."

Izuku told himself to relax. Slowly, he opened his palm again, to turn the note in his hand. 

Shoto went on "He wrote down his number. So you could contact him, if you want to."

"Thanks" Izuku muttered, because he didn't know what else to say. 

A hand appeared in his vision, shortly before he felt the weight of it on his upper arm. Shoto's voice was all honesty "Listen. I want you to know that you don't have to write to him. Katsuki is my friend, but after everything you've told me today, it's well in your right to not contact him." 

Izuku let out a dry laugh "I don't think Katsuki would appreciate it if he heard you say that to me."

"I don't care about that. I mean it, Izuku. It's your decision. Choose what's best for you, regardless of what Katsuki wants you to do."  

Something squeezed inside Izuku's chest, and he made for a quick reply to distract himself from it "Thank you. Really."  

After that, they didn't say much to each other. They hesitated from asking about the next time they'd see each other again, like they would have done before and the night ended with Izuku leaving, and Shoto retreating back into his flat.

By Monday the haze had lifted entirely. Izuku was now as much himself again, as he'd ever been in the last ten years. 

After that talk with Shoto,  a little bit of the weight on Izuku's chest had been lifted. It was like he could breathe again. 

The difference between being buried under an avalanche and being pulled out. You weren't quite fine after, but at least breathing had become a little easier. And you could see the light of day again. 

Factually, It was the difference between Izuku holing himself up in his apartment, and actually finding the strength to pull himself together and drive to the chancellery.

He was at work again. Kyoka sat opposite him at their connected desks. She was busy with the case, and he was busy in thought. The work that he was supposed to do was an afterthought, a program running in the back of his mind, rather than the front. 

So the mess with Shoto had been fixed. They were friends. Right from the start, it had been established that this was where they were headed to. So what if it happened a little sooner than expected? Nothing about that. 

There was however, still the mess that was the entire situation with Katsuki. 

It was a little surprising, but Izuku was mostly ... fine? If that was the right word to use.

It's not like he wasn't affected, no, he definitely was, but compared to all the times he'd been going crazy over Katsuki, and especially considering these past few days, his reaction now was mostly tame.

The last few weeks had been so stressful and tumultuous, Izuku supposed he was finally settling into a state of acceptance. When chaos became the new normal, the baseline. 

So Katsuki was alive. 

So what? 

That was good. It was a good thing. (Mentally, he crossed this point off the imaginative list he was constructing) 

And he was here in Tokyo. 

That was a little disconcerting, but still good, Izuku supposed. If he thought more than just a few seconds about it, he began losing himself in his feelings about that, so for the most part, he just ... didn't think about that. 

And that worked. As surprising as that was, it worked. 

He wasn't thinking about the past, and the pain. He was thinking about the future. That was, whether he should contact Katsuki. Now that he had the chance. 

Would that cause more pain?

He couldn't decide on it.

Izuku knew why it was probably comparatively so easy to deal with it. 

It was easy, because it was 'remote work' rather than an on-field operation. After all, Katsuki wasn't here . 

He wasn't, like Jirou, sitting at the desk opposite of his, humming once in a while to the radio music playing in the back. 

And he wasn't that strange employee passing their open office door in the hallway just now. 

No, Katsuki was not here. 

Izuku didn't know where Katsuki was. And that was the crux. 

The uncertainty of it all, turned Katsuki into somewhat of a theoretical concept. Like Schrödinger's cat. 

Since Izuku didn't know where Katsuki was, he could be anywhere, or nowhere. He was just such a vague idea. It was almost not real. And that made it okay. Made Izuku okay. 

Still, it wasn't possible for him to stay in this fabricated equilibrium forever. 

He had to do something about Katsuki at some point. Sooner rather than later. 

He was painfully aware of the paper note in his desk drawer he'd been carrying around with himself these past three days now.

Three days since that talk with Shoto and he hadn't decided what to do with Katsuki's number yet. Didn't know whether to use it or not, only that he couldn't bear not at all times having the possibility to make that choice. So the paper followed him wherever he went. 

It lay on the nightstand at his bedside, then inside the glove department of his car, and now in the desk drawer here in his office. 

And every day since that talk he'd repeated this charade, always tempted, but never enough, to put a stop to it, one way or another. 

As it turned out, it took only three more hours before Izuku reached that point. He'd dozed off on his couch shortly after he'd come home from work and even just in his light napping, his subconscious had seen an opportunity to remind him of another one of his memories with Katsuki. He'd dreamed of his own fourteenth birthday, when Katsuki had spent the day with him and Inko. Something he hadn't thought about in forever. For a reason. 

That was it. That was the last straw. He'd made his decision. He was texting the moment he'd awoken from the dream.

Sitting on his own couch, wrapped in an old blanket because he couldn't afford to turn on the heating just yet, and he was typing. At first, he saved the number inside of his phone. (He did not throw the piece of paper away, technology was all too fickle and he didn't want to be put on the spot by having to ask for it.)  

After, he opened the messenger app and typed: "Okay, let's talk." 

He had barely hit the send off button, when Katsuki came online. 

The three dots appeared, which meant that Katsuki was typing. 

Three dots was all that it took to set Izuku off again, because these three measly dots were all the difference it made between something theoretical and something real. Katsuki was real now. Again. A real, breathing person that Izuku had indescribably missed and mourned for an entire decade. And he was here in Tokyo. Doing ... doing whatever. 

The grasp around the phone got tighter, but Izuku forced himself to snap out of it. He wasn't going to do this again. He wasn't going to get mad again. There was no point to any of this, if he couldn't leave his hurt feelings aside for the time being. 

It didn't take long until the answer came. 

Tomorrow?

Izuku sighed into his palm. Drawing his legs a bit closer to his core. 

Not even asking who I am?  

Katsuki simply answered without checking who the unknown number that had just messaged him actually was. Even though it appeared obvious that it was Izuku, given the circumstances, it was still not a sure thing. Simply answering was therefore not the safe thing to do. 

On the contrary. Izuku was pretty sure it went directly against internet safety 101. 

Katsuki didn't answer his second message immediately. An interval of a few seconds passed, before the dots appeared again. 

Izuku couldn't explain to himself why, but he was biting his lip as soon as he saw Katsuki typing. This was stressing him out. 

The message loaded.

I know that it's you, Izuku.

Izuku rolled his eyes. Then he typed: I'm free after work tomorrow. How about 6 pm?

Katsuki's message poured in but a moment later, which spared Izuku not a second to worry about what Katsuki would say.

That fits. Where do you want to meet?

Where did Izuku want to meet? Suddenly, he noticed that he hadn't come this far when he'd contemplated this. Seeing Katsuki again. So far, he'd only thought about the whether, not the where. 

Also, he considered it a little unfair that Katsuki left him to figure out the details. After all, it was he that had asked Izuku for this in the first place. Shouldn't he then also be the one to fix the plan? 

After a moment of contemplation, "The bar?" because he didn't feel like getting worked up over it. 

It was a place they both know, so it was kind of the obvious choice. And there was absolutely no way that he'd let Katsuki into his flat, let alone enter Katsuki's, in case he'd have offered. 

Izuku's phone pinged, and he went to look. It was a reflex more than an active decision. 

Sure

Izuku didn't reply, didn't see the point. And he didn't expect their conversation to go on after that message, so it surprised him when, after a little while passed, another message appeared on the screen.  

You want me to drive you?

That confused Izuku, whatever he'd expected, it wasn't that. His brows drew together, he went to answer. 

Why are you asking this?

Katsuki was typing. It took him a bit longer to answer this time, and it made Izuku wonder if maybe he's busy, and that's why. 

Izuku's mind started to wander all on its own accord.

He tried – he tried to picture Katsuki doing something. Just anything. He tried imagining whatever it was that he was doing. And Izuku ... was failing. 

It proved a difficult task to come up with what a person could be doing, when you haven't seen that person for the worse half of your life. 

Izuku simply knew too little about this Katsuki. And when he tried to make something up, nothing was coming to mind, and everything that did, felt generic. Like it's not him. It wasn't Katsuki. There was nothing he could picture that screamed 'this, this is Katsuki'. And if it did, Izuku wouldn't know anyway.  

It felt like wafting through complete darkness. 

Izuku knew exactly what the Katsuki from back then was like. What he liked, what he disliked. How he spent most of his days. Where he went when he wanted to be alone, where he went when he didn't. What face he made when he was content. That his anger manifested first in the clenched hand before it appeared in the lines between his furrowed brows.That he seethed, before he yelled. Like the calm before the storm. That he had smiled from time to time, but rarely ever laughed, unfiltered and loud.

And that the sound of when he did laugh, was always more precious to Izuku than anything else he could have wanted and wished for back then.   

But when he tried to picture it with this Katsuki, present Katsuki, nothing happened. There's just nothing there. 

And something weird happened.  Izuku wasn't used to the 23 year old that Katsuki was now, so in his mind, the version that he pictured eventually reverted back into the 13 year old boy of his memories. Kacchan. 

Izuku forced himself to abandon the picture then. Silly, stupid endeavor of his. He exhaled slowly. Wasn't there something else his mind could pick up to turn stones over?

Katsuki's message finally arrived. 

If you want another drink?

Oh ... 

Right, Izuku had drunk half a bottle of sake the last time they had talked. He had to give it to Katsuki, it was kind of a natural conclusion to draw that maybe Izuku would want to do that again. Especially considering that he's suggested the bar as their meet up spot. And yet, he couldn't help but feel a pang of offense upon the assumption. 

He answered the message. I don't drink on weekdays.

Two replies popped up shortly. 

Sorry

Yeah. Okay. Sorry.

And that's where the conversation ended. 

No new messages poured in after that, and it didn't occur to Izuku to write something else. Everything that needed to be said, had been said. Everything else would follow tomorrow. 

When Izuku went to sleep that night, it marked the first time in about a decade that he didn't fall asleep with Katsuki on his mind. 

He finally didn't have to ask himself anymore if he's ever going to see him again, because he knew that he would. Tomorrow at six pm. 

He'd see Katsuki tomorrow at six pm. 

Chapter Text

Izuku was there first, by his own design. He'd considered coming here on exactly the scheduled time, not a second sooner or later, but had discarded that plan early on. 

He couldn't imagine himself walking up to Katsuki. Didn't think he had the nerves for it. As it was, he would probably turn back around the moment he was confronted with the visual of Katsuki's waiting presence. 

So, by coming first, Izuku made sure that he didn't get into that situation. Half an hour early, there was no way he would just run off at the first eye contact. Not if he didn't plan on making a scene. 

Waiting hadn't done him any good, but he was at least still sane enough to realize how neurotic he was being about it. How he was letting himself spiral further into his dread. The first thing he had done upon his arrival had been to check that neither Camie nor Inasa were working a shift tonight.  

There was no telling of how the meet up would go down, only that it would be a whole lot worse on Izuku's nerves, if he knew there to be possibly two sets of prying eyes on them tonight. He didn't need any witnesses to it. 

When the short but thorough walk around the place had revealed no signs of familiar faces on the scene, Izuku had gone to sit right at one of the group tables. Even if Camie and Inasa weren't working the counter, it was still too uncomfortable for him to sit there as he'd once done with Shoto. This was a different matter entirely. 

Now the counter was too out in the open, too public, too on display. Back here at the tables he was mostly shielded from view, separated from the open space by the walls around the seating booth. 

He'd thought about this, you see. He'd gone over it in his mind, looked at it from all the different angles. Just to make sure that tonight would be as manageable as possible for him. Sitting here now, he came to the realization that, despite all of that careful planning, he wasn't faring better by much. 

His hands were tapping against the wood of the table without his doing. A nervous staccato of chipped, shortened sounds. An ominous, faulty beat drumming itself into a place itself right beneath his rips. Settling in his core.  

Izuku forced his hands off the table. There was no use in driving himself crazy about this. For a few seconds he made himself take another look around the room. 

It was still so early into the evening that the bar was emptier than when he'd been here the other day. There were a bunch of folks scattered around the seating area, but it didn't come close to the crowd of the last two times. 

Ochako had explained it to him once. By day, this bar was mostly like any other. You were free to get drinks here, but the dance floor and with that the clubbing area was closed until a certain time. Which obviously meant that not that many people had come here yet. There were, after all, other, even much cheaper places to go to, if all you wanted to do was get drunk in the afternoon. 

Once the club event began, all these people would have to exit again, if they hadn't been one of the lucky ones to get their tickets for it. 

Izuku would have to be gone by then as well. Though he wouldn't put it past Katsuki's abilities to rake up entry passes for them from his friends on short notice, Izuku had no intention of letting that happen. 

He brought his gaze back to the door. From where he was sitting, he had the perfect view of anyone who entered. 

It was as much a curse as it was a blessing. Now that he was given the opportunity to immediately size up every person walking into the door, he did check on every single person walking into this place the moment their foot crossed the threshold, head whipping up mechanically each time. Izuku couldn't help it.

Earlier, one guy had walked in, and, in the mili-seconds that it took for Izuku to fully turn his head towards the guy, he had mistaken him for Katsuki. By then, the stranger had still only been in the periphery of Izuku's vision, his silhouette still vague enough to make it possible for Izuku to get his hopes up, convince himself it might be Katsuki. 

The moment Izuku fully made him out, the illusion broke. 

It wasn't him. The hair was off by at least three hues. Too dark to still pass for blonde. Way longer than it was plausible. And nothing about the outfit that the stranger was wearing seemed to fit anything that Izuku believed to know about present Katsuki. It wasn't even that extravagant, just standard office couture. A nerdy dress up shirt paired with linen pants, as well as glasses. 

It was just that ... Katsuki didn't have glasses. At least as far as Izuku was concerned. 

Something inside of Izuku's chest crammed. Of course, it was very possible that this had changed over the past decade. After all, was Izuku really able to say with certainty that Katsuki still didn't have glasses? 

No, he wasn't. If he really wanted to know for certain, he'd have to ask. 

Yet another question to add to the list. 

When the text interaction between him and Katsuki had come to a stop yesterday, Izuku had felt like something deep inside of him had been placated. As if, from one moment to the next, a machine he'd previously let run for years without break, had been switched off. A strange quietness had spread and it had lasted him until he'd finished his shift the next day. By then, something else had taken on the role of the machine. Had filled the vacated space. 

Questions had started popping up in his head. About today. About Katsuki in general. All the things that he'd been agonizing over whenever he wasn't strong enough to stop himself from it. One question chased the next, led to even more questions. In the hour that he'd had left to use up, until he could drive here, he'd begun writing them all down. 

Essentially drafting a list of all the things he wanted to ask Katsuki about. One by one, Izuku had extracted them like iron nails of a coffin, leaving only the rusted holes in his mind. 

For lack of an alternative, he'd scribbled them down on the back of the note with Katsuki's number on it, the only paper-like writable surface within reach then. It had taken him little more than a handful of minutes to cover it from top to bottom in the ink of his pen. Those were the questions he'd ask today. The next time it would happen, he'd have to get himself more paper.

Thinking about the list caused Izuku's nervousness to increase palpably. Half in thought, he swatted his hands over the pockets of his jeans, trying to feel for the outlines of the paper. Just to make sure that it was still there. Just to make sure that he wouldn't forget what to ask. He was relieved when he could confirm that it had stayed where he'd stuffed it in his pants earlier. 

It took another five minutes of Izuku sitting around there uselessly, before he decided to order a drink. It hadn't been the plan to drink anything tonight, and he'd even gone and told Katsuki as much, but the stress was getting to him more than he had anticipated. 

It was hard to say how much longer he could take it. He had to do something about that uneasy feeling in his stomach. Even a coke would suffice. Maybe if he drank it, his insides would stop feeling this weird. 

So he got himself a coke, tipping the worker with the change he couldn't put back in his wallet, since he lacked the calm hand for it. The coke was halfway gone before Izuku had even made it back to the table. He finished the rest in little more than a single gulp once he sat down. 

Someone else walked through the door and Izuku could only just force himself to stay put and not lift his head again. His leg began twitching, and he welcomed it as an outlet for his frayed nerves. 

The person was stepping into the bar now, and when one of the lights on the wall hit them, Izuku became aware that it wasn't Katsuki, either. Too short, too skinny, too black haired. Too female. The woman walked further into the bar now, and made a confident beeline for one of the occupied tables. Her friends greeted her in excited cheers and Izuku averted his gaze shortly after.  

He couldn’t quite say if the feeling in his chest, that he felt every single time he watched someone other than Katsuki come into this place, was hope. 

Except that something flapped wildly only to perish as soon as he realized that it was no more than a stranger.

No, it was not hope. Izuku knew that Katsuki was going to come, he didn’t have to hope for it to happen.

Or did he? 

What if Katsuki had decided not to come after all? What if he let Izuku sit here all by himself, only to disappear from his life without a trace for a second time? Now wouldn't that be the prank of a lifetime? Making Izuku sit here in anticipation, all while Katsuki was already well on his way to scram off again. This time, for good. 

Oh fuck. 

The thought hadn’t occurred to him until this very moment, but it seemed so stupidly, painfully naive to him now that he hadn’t considered it sooner. Why it had taken him so long. 

There was, after all, no guarantee that Katsuki would come. Not even in the slightest.

God, he was so stupid. Just why was he so stupid?

Why exactly had he been operating on the premise that Katsuki wouldn’t just change his mind on the last stretch? 

Izuku’s head fell forward in dejection, and he could only just put his hands up in time to prevent himself from plummeting on the table, slamming his forehead in the wake. He pressed his palms into his eyes hard. 

Stupid. Just stupid. 

There was no telling as to how long he stayed in that position, only that for the time being, he forgot about the fact that he was supposed to keep his eyes on the door. 

There was a rustling sound startlingly close to him that broke him out of this state eventually, making him perk up. 

Katsuki was the first thing he set eyes on. He was standing in front of him, a little to the side of the table. Izuku hadn't noticed him appear, but now he was here. Just standing, looking down at Izuku from his elevated position. 

Izuku's heart skipped violently. It was the sight of him that did it. It wasn't any less jarring than it had been the first two times. It unsettled him like nothing else. After all the years he spent convinced of Katsuki's departure, it felt like sighting a ghost. 

Katsuki was clad in a black raincoat, and little drops of rain trickled down, slowly making their descent toward the floor. A plethora of little rivulets, and they were all reflecting the colored light from the installations. It must have started raining in the time that Izuku had spent here waiting, as he couldn't recount any rain on the drive here. 

There was no use in fighting it when Izuku was momentarily caught off guard, with his breath catching in his throat. It went quiet inside his mind. Suddenly, he hadn't the slightest idea what to say. How to even form words.

All he could do was to stare into Katsuki's face and try to remember even the most basic form of greeting. When it finally occurred to him to say hello, he was still too awkward to open his mouth. 

Only yesterday, he had told Shoto that, above all, he got angry any time he looked at Katsuki, but he found that the statement was already not holding true anymore. Though the aforementioned anger was there, undeniably, he was somehow more awkward than he was enraged. That was a new development.

It did make sense. This was not the first instance he was being confronted with the fact that Katsuki was back in his life for the moment. Izuku had had a bit of time to grapple with it now. Anger was far a consistent element in all the two times that they have met. Izuku had seen it coming, which made it a bit easier to control now that it was his third time at it. What he hadn’t been prepared for was what came after. The awkwardness.  

Still, even if the anger wasn't overwhelming him as easily as the last time, it was there, a tangible force pushing against the walls of his mind. It simmered. With just one look, Izuku was right there on the edge, and he knew that he could snap again, like it had happened before. If something set him off. If he was faced with the right trigger. 

For now, Katsuki's mere presence wasn't the instant trigger. It was something else. Something that Izuku couldn't name. 

Katsuki spoke first, thereby breaking the spell that had fallen over him. 

"Hey." 

The word was muttered right into Izuku's direction. A gentle contrast to the heavy weight of Katsuki's unyielding eyes. Swallowing dry, Izuku wondered if Katsuki was aware what he was subjecting Izuku to. If he had any idea what it felt like to have those eyes on him.  

Even after a moment passed, Katsuki made no move to sit down then, so Izuku guessed that he was waiting for a response.  

He coughed, eyes flitting to the side, hoping that Katsuki would mistake it for a muffled greeting. 

Whatever Katsuki thought about that response, was not evident, but in any case, he took it as a sign to get settled. Taking off his coat, Katsuki slid into the cushioned bench opposite of Izuku. And when he had settled, he placed the garment next to himself on the bench, to his right. Izuku watched him. Too transfixed to do anything else.  

Now that the coat was gone, Izuku saw that Katsuki had been wearing a simple black t-shirt underneath. The t-shirt lacked a particular design, but was cut in a way that spoke of the price tag regardless. It looked expensive in the same way Shoto's clothes had. Working in the profession that he did, had gotten Izuku to develop an eye for this sort of thing. 

The fabric was stretching a bit around Katsuki’s biceps when he brought his arms up on the table in front of him. And Izuku swallowed dry a second time. Katsuki had filled out over the years, there was no denying that.

"Hey". Katsuki spoke again, sounding even softer this time. He'd lowered his volume a bit, now that he was sitting right in front of Izuku. 

"Hey." 

Izuku responded, too surprised to bite his tongue. He brought his hand back to his hair to stroke through the unruly curls in irritation. 

Katsuki looked pleased, then he smiled gently. The corners of his mouth lifting smoothly when he said, "Izuku." Only that. He said only the name. Which was enough to get Izuku's breathing to accelerate momentarily in response, but it was luckily so subdued that Katsuki didn't hear. 

Eventually, Katsuki said "I'm really glad that you decided to contact me. Thank you."

Izuku looked at the space between them, the surface of the table. Wooden, almost black in color. It was likely some form of ebony, but for all he knew, it could have been a look-alike wood which had been manually darkened with a wood staining fluid. 

A second later, he closed his eyes. He was deflecting and since they had just started talking he was still reasonable enough to admit it to himself.

It took him longer than it should, but eventually he said “Yeah.”

What else was he supposed to say?

You're welcome? 

No problem? 

No biggie? 

Actually, it took me a lot of effort to make that decision, so I sure hope you're grateful, ha ha? 

He went to touch his neck, rubbing it absentmindedly "Yeah." He said again, rather eloquently after all of that reflection. 

Katsuki shifted, put one hand on the table, letting it rest there. He looked almost coy when he asked "You saw Shoto again?"

Izuku nodded and resigned himself to saying “Yeah” for the third time. 

It was a good thing Katsuki took it upon himself to start as well as lead the conversation for now. Somehow Izuku couldn't bring himself to open his mouth. It was too... overwhelming.

There was no flight risk. Not in the way he'd felt it the last two times. The acute urge to just stand up and make a run in whatever direction his feet carried him. 

No, he wanted to sit here. He wanted to talk. He just didn't know how . 

It was one thing to just imagine how this would go down. It was an entirely different thing to actually sit here in front of Katsuki. And experience what it felt like to come face to face with him again after such a long time. The only comfort was that, no matter how unnerving it all felt to Izuku, it must feel at least very similar to Katsuki.

Yesterday, when they had texted, and Izuku had gotten so worked up over what the other might be doing, he'd almost short-circuited his brain in his attempt of actively imagining Katsuki. 

And now that Katsuki was sitting right there on the opposite side of the table, it was more than difficult to handle. It made every single thought Izuku conceived go up in smoke before it managed to form into a fully fledged thing.

Which left only feelings inside him, a most inconvenient circumstance as Izuku had lost the ability to make sense of them a while ago. He'd spent too much of his time trying to drown them out, so forgive him that he had never become quite acquainted with them.  

He cleared his throat, dropped his hand from his neck. Into his lap, not on the table. His leg was still bouncing. "Yes. Uhm-" he began rubbing over the fabric of his jeans, almost like on autopilot. "Yes, I was at his place. He gave me the note. Like you wanted."

"I'll have to thank him for that." Katsuki smiled cautiously.  

Which was exactly the wrong thing to say, like clashing flint stones against each other. It rubbed Izuku the wrong way. 

He scoffed. "Why? It's not like you gave him much of a choice."

Katsuki's breath caught in his throat, so loud that it was audible even across the table. It made Izuku put his eyes back on him. Hm . At least Katsuki had enough decency to seem embarrassed about that. Izuku had to give him that. 

"Yes, I– Yes, I might have been a little too brisk." Katsuki confessed then, sounding a little more apologetic. 

"Perhaps." Izuku responded, and shrugged his shoulders faintly. 

Just the sight of Katsuki a tad bit less confident than merely a few seconds ago, like he had taken a faltering step on a staircase only to miss it, helped Izuku to recover some of his own confidence. Enough to take the lead. 

"I thought about it. How this is going to work." 

Katsuki's gaze intensified, eyes turning narrow. Just like that, Izuku seemed to have all of his attention. 

"And?" He asked, tentatively. 

"I came to a conclusion." Izuku crossed his arms in front of his chest, "For now, we can do it like this. We can meet up."

There were signs, minuscule, almost unnoticeable signs of the beginning of a smile creeping onto Katsuki's face. He was trying to hide it by covering his mouth with his other hand, but Izuku had already seen.

Again, Izuku could feel the anger inside increase. As much clockwork as the rising of the tide. And this time, he could even decipher why. Why, suddenly, he reacted with so much ferocity.  

His eyes narrowed, "No. Don't even begin to think that this means something. Don't interpret more into it than there is. You get that I don't know you?" He asked, incredulous. "It's not you that I want to see. I just want to have answers, which kind of makes meeting up with you necessary. That's all. That is all that this is."

The smile faded, slow but inevitable like a match burning down. 

Izuku watched it vanish entirely, before he continued "You understand that, right? Whatever it is that you're expecting of this, you won't be getting more than what I just told you."  

Katsuki's hand clenched lightly on the table, yet his voice was steady and calm, even though, judging by his expression, things seemed very different inside him. "Yes, I understand."

"Good." Izuku looked away again. 

It seemed to him then that silence was a disease particular to them, their adult versions at least. When they’d been younger, and sat together like this, talking had come as natural as the flow of water down a gradient, but now, half the words that Izuku said were tightening his throat on their way out, and the other half didn't even make it that far. 

Izuku meant what he said to Katsuki. He was serious about this. It was an actual offer. Them meeting up like this. For as long as it would be necessary. Still, he couldn't claim that he had really believed for Katsuki to agree now. He was half expecting him to stand up and leave. 

With the way he had put it, there was nothing Katsuki would get out of this. He would offer his time, and would answer questions about himself, his past, his present, but that was the extent of the deal. He would give, and Izuku would take. 

So it surprised Izuku when Katsuki stayed. He hadn't the faintest idea why, but Katsuki made no move to stand up. There was no incentive for him to be here, at least none that Izuku could think of.

"So, do you have questions?" Katsuki asked, curling his fingers on the table. 

"Yes." Izuku went on without letting his surprise show. He reached into his pocket to pull out the piece of paper.

If Katsuki noticed that it was one and the same piece of paper that he himself had first given to Shoto, he was very good at hiding it.

Izuku looked at the first question and sunk his hand together with the piece of paper under the table.

He was about to start speaking when Katsuki beat him to it. "I'm assuming the same rules as last time apply?"

"What do you mean?" 

Katsuki pressed his palm flat on the table, and his mouth into an even line "I shouldn't tell you that I've missed you and the likes?"  

Izuku could tell that Katsuki was willing and ready to go on and explain what he meant by 'the likes' in the case that Izuku still didn't comprehend, so Izuku made for a quick reply. "Yes, that's correct. None of that."

He didn't say please, didn't feel like he had to. And then he prepared to ask his first question, to get this thing, whatever it was, started. He already knew that Katsuki was living and working in Tokyo. He also knew that he had been living here since shortly after he'd left their village. 

"When did you finish school?"

This was something Izuku had started wondering about ever since he'd heard Katsuki say that Shoto and him were college friends. Katsuki was almost two years younger than Izuku and Shoto. So how could it be that he'd been talking like he had already finished his degree? 

Katsuki's eyes widened. He seemed amused by that particular question. He had likely not expected for Izuku to ask about his high school graduation first. 

"Five years ago." Katsuki said.  

Izuku frowned. "But how is that possible? You were in the seventh grade the last time I saw you."

"I've skipped two grades." Katsuki replied, sounding as cocksure as the thirteen year old boy that Izuku remembered. 

Something in Izuku's chest quivered. This was what Katsuki was like in his memories. That certain type of arrogance. The boy that had said everything with pride and conviction. He'd always admired Katsuki for his confidence in the past. Now Izuku didn't know what to make of it. 

Before he could decide on a reply, Katsuki's gaze darkened, and he said "Turns out school becomes a whole lot easier when you don't have the old hag and the bastard getting at you for every misstep." 

There it was again. That phrasing that Katsuki had always used when he'd talked about his parents. He said 'getting at' when he meant something completely different. Something worse. And Izuku had been too blue-eyed as a child to see past the curtain that Katsuki had drawn. He knew better now. 

Izuku decided not to prod for now. It wasn't like he had any right to, after all the times he could have done so in the past, yet didn't. 

He smiled at Katsuki tightly, playing into the masquerade. "I imagine so."

Katsuki began tapping his fingers on the table. Just like Izuku had done earlier, when he'd waited here alone. Ultimately, it got Izuku to wonder about how Katsuki perceived all of this. It became apparent to him for a second time how different it felt between the two of them now. Not just, because of the ten years that lay between them. Or well, that wasn't entirely correct. More so, the ten years of distance had many different palpable excrescences. And this was one of them. That Izuku could look at Katsuki, and see everything, without understanding most of it. To look him in the eyes, and have no idea what thoughts lay behind them.  

He had to distract himself from that. So he looked down at the paper in his hands and picked out the question that was sure to get him the most stirred up emotionally, depending on the answer. 

"Are you married?"

Since Izuku had a very clear view of the table in front of them, he was aware that Katsuki had not ordered himself a drink in the time that they had spent here, and yet, it still looked unmistakably as if he was choking on a sip, when he said "What? No, no I'm not."

Izuku breathed out. "Okay, sure."

Below the table, he started wringing his hands together. 

But hadn't Shoto said Kirishima? Twice? There was no way that he had misheard. 

A furrow appeared between Katsuki's brows. He regarded Izuku with intent, before he asked "What?"

Izuku shrugged, not fully knowing what to say. "I mean, I can distinctly remember you saying  that you wouldn't lie to me, but maybe that was just for show." 

Something in Katsuki's gaze shifted. And Izuku realized, taken aback, that in all the two times that they had seen each other again, he couldn't recall Katsuki looking remotely this close to anger. But it was unmistakable. There was a tense quality to his frown. "No. I'm serious. I'm not married. I wouldn't lie to you about that."

Izuku let his gaze roam over him then. Including the hand that he still had rested on the table. There was no ring. That did support his claim. 

But why then had Shoto seemed so confused when Izuku had mentioned Katsuki’s last name, Bakugo?

"So what's with the name change then?"

Katsuki brightened up all at once, all the tension leaving his features. "Oh my god, that?" He laughed. "I’m not married. I’ve got a new surname, because Eijirou’s parents adopted me."

Heat rose into Izuku's cheeks. He was flustered all at once. 

When he thought about it now, he felt stupid for assuming, because 23 was pretty young to get married, after all. Just because Ochako and Iida, the obnoxious lovebirds, were planning their wedding now, that didn't mean it was standard for people their age. Why did he automatically jump to that conclusion? 

“Oh.” He breathed out. "Oh. Yeah. Okay" 

A second later, he realized that just because Katsuki wasn't married, that didn't mean he wasn't in a serious, committed relationship. He grasped the paper tighter. 

“And you’re also not in a relationship in general? Any girlfriend?”

Katsuki said, very matter of factly “No, Izuku, I'm gay.”

Oh . 

He had not expected for Katsuki to say that. Izuku tried pressing himself further into his seat, desperate for more support, as he felt something inside of him lock up. "I didn't know that. When did you find out?"

Katsuki looked away, and when he talked, his voice was restrained and distracted. He spoke even quieter than before. "I have known that for a while." 

Izuku didn’t know if he was free to keep poking, but he did anyway. It was addictive for him to see into the depths of this Katsuki, and to figure out what had changed and what had remained the same. Or in this case, what had maybe always been a certain way, without Izuku realizing. 

“Since when we’ve known each other?”

Katsuki went back to facing him, an intensity to his eyes that Izuku didn't understand. "Yes, Izuku, since when we've known each other." 

After that, Katsuki skillfully managed to change the topic. Izuku of course noticed, but it happened so swiftly that he lacked the desire to forcibly bring them back to where they’d been. He didn’t feel like putting Katsuki under more torment on that front. 

“Well, I can kind of think of why Shoto hasn’t told you about me being adopted. Technically speaking, I never told him.” Katsuki smiled, a little more tautly than before. 

"I fail to see why that would be." Izuku couldn't help but say, to which Katsuki only lifted his hands up in a defensive gesture, like he was physically fighting off Izuku's doubt. 

“I know. He could have thought the part, but you know him, don’t you? If you don’t spell it out for him at times, he’ll gleefully see right past the obvious.”

Izuku pressed his lips together “What exactly does Shoto think then? That you’ve just always lived here in Tokyo?” 

Because if that was the case, then what implications would that have? 

Have you told him about your past? At all? 

Katsuki shrugged “Something like that.”

“I still don’t really understand.” Izuku admitted, making an effort to cover the bitterness in his tone. 

“I was adopted by Kirishima’s parents, pretty much right after I got here, but  since Shoto and I only met when we went to college together I guess he assumed that Kiri and I are biological brothers. It’s never really turned into a topic of discussion, you see.”

Brothers. 

Katsuki had a brother now. Kiri. And, by following that logic, he had two parents now as well. And Izuku knew none of them.  

The frown appeared on his face without his doing. But he did purposefully ball his hands into fists, clenching them where Katsuki wouldn’t see. 

So, it must have been going alright for him the entire time. He must have been doing better all along. Which was good. It was great. But, but that only made it all the more incomprehensible to Izuku that Katsuki hadn't contacted him once. 

If things were going so well for him ... just what had stopped him from writing a letter? 

From making a call? 

As it seemed, nothing. 

Nothing, of course, except that Katsuki had moved on. And Izuku hadn’t. He had remained exactly at the place where Katsuki hadn't even said goodbye to him. And all the time that he had spent wishing for Katsuki to reappear in his life, for him to come back for him, Katsuki had been treading steadily onward. Always taking more and more steps further away from him. 

And sure, he'd said he had missed Izuku, but how much exactly did it mean, when in all the time of ten years, it wasn't enough to get him to make a simple phone call? 

No matter what Izuku had wanted to hear from Katsuki today, it had not been this.

His change in mood showed. Katsuki tensed in response, shoulders drawing up stiffly, yet his hands remained on the table. He was bracing himself for what was to come. It seemed that he was becoming rather acquainted with Izuku's novel temper.

“Why all of this then?” Izuku asked. He was mad and crushing the note in his hand. Every one of his words that followed, had bite. "Why this meetup? You could have seen me a long time ago, we both know that, but you didn’t. And now, for some reason, you have the nerve to pretend as if you’re happy about the two of us sitting here together. Why?" 

Katsuki’s expression turned grave. "I am happy about that. I don't have to pretend. I know that it must not seem like it from your perspective, and that’s all my fault, I get that, but believe me Izuku. I am happy about you being here. I am so fucking grateful for the fact that you made the decision to see me today, it's taking everything in me to not tell you about that. About how much I've missed you. That I couldn't form a single congruent thought until the moment that you've written me that text message. That I actually came here two hours early, pacing around outside, because I was mortified  that you might not show up. Or that, even if you did, you might turn back around right after coming here. That, in that case, I knew that I at least needed to see you. Even if that meant watching you walk away. I feel like I'm bursting, because frankly, I don't know how to contain this inside." Katsuki was talking fast, and Izuku watched his expression gradually change into a meeker one as he continued. Like, he knew that he was fucking up. Finally, Katsuki got himself to pause and catch his breath. He exhaled harshly. And then finished by saying "I know you don't want to hear that. And I'm realizing now that despite my best efforts, I'm still letting it slip. I've really tried not to say that. Fuck. Izuku. I'm sorry."   

Izuku turned away. He felt a tremble pass his entire body. From top to bottom. His mouth fell open and his fingers turned lax around the paper. He had no idea what to do. What to say. 

Katsuki spoke again. “Tell me one way I can prove to you that I’m sincere. Just one.”

In lieu of putting his hands on the table, because Katsuki already had his there, Izuku pressed them against the underside. The flat of his palms coming into contact with the cold, textured wood. He was thinking. Pretending to at least. He knew exactly what question there was to ask. 

When his heart had stopped beating so erratically, he was finally calm enough to say. "Okay. My sixteenth birthday. Did you think about coming?”

“Yes.” Katsuki said, and there wasn't a second of hesitation. His eyes were endlessly open and honest. A scarlet sky, with no clouds in sight for miles. The landscape of Izuku's own personal purgatory. 

"That's all well and good, but unfortunately it's just like you said. I don't believe you." 

Izuku felt as a smile tugged at his lips. A twisted, sad one at that. Though he had tried for his words to come out as goading, he didn't feel like anything close to that on the inside. It was impossible for him to say then, whether he was hurting himself or Katsuki more with this. His bitterness. 

The hand on the table moved further into his field of sight, a little bit, just enough that it could be mistaken for an accidental movement. 

Izuku’s gaze focused on it. Katsuki's hand. The back of it was broad, his fingers were lithe. His hands looked warm. If life had gone differently, reaching out to touch them would have been natural. Izuku wouldn't have thought twice about it. 

Now he could only make due with the memory of it. Of when they had walked to school together, hand in hand. Of course Katsuki had never allowed that for too long. And never when other children were around, too prideful for that. 

Of the two, Katsuki had always been the one with warmer hands. He was the hothead with the bad manners and the explosive temper. At least in the past he'd been that. How come their roles had been turned so completely upside down in the last decade? 

"You don't have to understand or believe me. For now. The most important thing to me is that you even want to see me."

“Well, whatever you say.” Izuku sighed. 

Katsuki regarded him for a moment with a strange quality to his expression. Izuku had no idea how to interpret it, but it was gone before he could take a closer look. “Do you have more questions?” Katsuki then asked. 

Izuku thought about it. There was still so much he wanted to know. Above all, the question of why there hadn't been any visits, any letters, any calls. 

Earlier, when that question had been brought up between them, Katsuki had dodged answering it. Izuku hadn't noticed it then, he'd been too occupied with the other things that Katsuki had tackled him with, but he did now. 

Looking at it in retrospect, though, it might have even been better that way. The truth was, he wasn't entirely sure if he even wanted to hear it. It was like this, wasn't it? No matter what Katsuki would say, it ultimately didn’t change much. 

For nothing could make this right again. Could fix it. 

Could bend straight what had turned skew under the weight of time. Erase ten years, just like that, in the beat of a heart. Undo how much Izuku had been hurt. 

What would Katsuki actually say? 

Sorry Izuku, that I let you believe I'm dead for the last ten years. You see, the reason I didn't get in touch is, because I was too busy spending time with my new family.

Izuku cringed the moment he'd finished formulating that thought. He shouldn't think like that. However conflicted he felt about the entire situation, he didn't want to be someone who would think something like that. 

Didn't Katsuki deserve just this? After everything that he'd gone through in his early years? It shouldn't bother him one bit that Katsuki seemed to be feeling better now. 

And Izuku wasn't bothered, but at the same time, he couldn't deny that there was a strange, lingering feeling of rejection, which didn’t care whether Izuku had any right to it. 

"Where exactly do you live?" He asked, in another attempt to redirect his focus.

So far, not knowing where exactly Katsuki was, had helped Izuku grapple with the reality that Katsuki was here in Tokyo in the first place. 

That time was over. Izuku had to know now. 

In the short interval he'd been convinced that Katsuki had stood him up, he'd come to the realization that he didn't want to be ignorant of it anymore. He had to know where Katsuki lived, where to start looking in case Katsuki vanished again, or else he'd go mad. He just needed to have the option, even if he didn't plan on actually acting on it. 

As it was, if Katsuki did run off a second time, Izuku had sworn himself that it would be the last time he cared. He would not come chasing again.

"I live in Ginza. I have an apartment there close to my work."

Just like when he'd drafted the list, asking one question always led to more. Getting an answer out of Katsuki only made Izuku want to ask for more. More pieces of the puzzle. He settled on asking "What do you do for work?" because despite his unsatiated curiosity, he didn't want to overdo it, either. He was kind of done for the evening. With every new information he took in, he felt himself turn more and more worn. This conversation was wearing him out. 

"I've been working as a line cook at the restaurant Ginza Izumi ever since I graduated college two years ago."  

Coincidentally, the name of the restaurant rang a bell with Izuku. Not just that the district of Ginza was well known for its vibrant range in gastronomy, the restaurant in particular was a known establishment in the social and professional spheres that he treaded. He was pretty sure he'd overheard some of his more snobby coworkers talk of going there for lunch a couple of times. 

So Katsuki was a cook now. It felt ... fitting. As much as Izuku could be the judge for it. 

Thinking about it now ... it made him speculative. 

If he had accepted one of those lunch requests in the past, would he have met Katsuki earlier?

"And you?" Katsuki asked suddenly, which Izuku had not expected him to. An almost sly air took over his face, like he was aware how he was putting him on the spot, but pretended to be oblivious. 

Izuku scowled, and debated for a bit whether he should answer, before he gave in. Though it didn't exactly entice him to tell Katsuki about himself, he reasoned that it mattered little if Katsuki knew. 

"I work at U.A. Law Enterprise."

Katsuki nodded. 

"I'm surprised that the others haven't told you. At least Shoto should have remembered that."

"I haven't asked them about you. Well, except Shoto, but I actually didn't get anything out of him afterwards." 

Izuku would have to thank Shoto for that. He tilted his head to the side. "Well, yes, it's not like it's any of your business." 

Katsuki looked defeated. "You're right. It's not."

Slowly, absentmindedly, Izuku nodded, in agreement to that statement. He leaned further into his seat, fighting the urge to close his eyes. 

"I want to know anyway."

Izuku's breath startled, but he recovered almost immediately. This was the point at which he knew to draw a line. They were heading into dangerous territory.

There was but one question remaining that he needed an answer to before he could leave. It was the silliest one, yet he couldn't bring himself to just forget about it. 

"What were you doing yesterday? When I contacted you?"

Katsuki's eyes widened. "You’re asking me about my day?" 

Looks like it. 

Izuku didn't grace him with a response, so eventually Katsuki said "When you messaged me I was at work."

Izuku nodded again, turning it over in his mind. So he'd been busy at his job. He could picture it now, knowing of Katsuki's occupation. 

Also, it would explain why there had been relatively long breaks in between their texts. Izuku was satisfied, he'd gotten all that he'd wanted to know. 

Katsuki, of course, wasn't privy to it, so he continued regardless. 

"I was in the middle of grilling salmon for a dish when I noticed the message. I ditched it all then and there to reply to you, but of course the fish did not do too well without my undying attention. It burned and I ended up having to do it all over again. The guests were anything but amused. My boss even less so, especially when he found out it happened because I had gone on my phone during my shift." 

Oh. 

Oh. So that ... 

Izuku's cheeks flamed. He quickly schooled his face into a stern expression to compensate for it, staring at Katsuki defiantly. 

"Well, which was to be expected. You shouldn't have answered during your shift, let alone when you were handling an open fire. You can't be that irresponsible."

Katsuki shrugged, one corner of his mouth lifting. "I couldn't let you wait."

You've let me wait for ten years. Somehow that wasn't much of a problem for you, Izuku thought.

And he said “I think I should leave now.” With the words falling out of his mouth before he even had the mind to become aware of his want to speak them. 

Katsuki tensed. “If you want to.” 

“I want to.” 

Diary entry July 2013 

Hey, 

It's been a while, I know. A bit more than a year since I last wrote into you. I've been kind of silent for a while. These past few months, I've grown quieter and quieter.  

I didn't feel like talking about it. That Katsuki is still gone.

I say 'gone' because I believe that he is still alive. He's somewhere out there and alive. He's got to be. He just has to. 

I think that he is still alive. 

It feels good to write it out. These days, I can't really say it anymore. Mom flinches any time the name Katsuki is brought up around her. She would kill me if she heard me say what I just wrote. It's hard to explain, but I think she does this to protect me. She can't stand it to hear me talk about Katsuki, because she wants me to move on. In her eyes, there's no use in dwelling on the past. That all it will do is harm. 

She's said that there is nothing I can do. That the police are already doing everything there is to do and my job now is to concentrate on myself again. My future. 

My grades have dropped. Not by too much, but it's enough to concern my teachers. They've had a call with her about it yesterday, in which they suggested that I take tutoring classes. 

If I'm being honest, I can't feel anything at the thought of lower grades. I somehow don't care. I don't care about anything.

Last week, something happened. I didn't want to talk about it initially. I wanted to forget. But I feel like my head is going to burst if I don't get it out. I have to get it out now. I have to put it somewhere. So I will, I'll write it in here. 

When I turned sixteen last week, I somehow woke up with the premonition that Katsuki would come. To visit me. 

I know it's stupid, believe me. I am more than well aware of just how stupid of me it was to think something like that, but I did. Okay. I thought that he would come. Just for that day, I thought he would come back. 

He's been gone for a year now, and there hasn't been the slightest trace of him since. Laying it out like this, I don't understand what had gotten me to develop that naive belief. I cannot say.    

You have to know, Katsuki and I have ... we've had this tradition specifically for my birthday. I don't know when exactly it started, but a few years ago when we were younger, he used to come over to my house and together we would read the new volumes of the All Might Manga. 

Mom would get them for me the moment they were released, but I always waited with reading them until Katsuki had time to come over. 

That was our thing. We only read them together. 

At some point, we even started imagining ourselves as characters in the universe of the manga. Young heroes on the rise, working as All Might's sidekicks for the time being.  

And when Katsuki's next birthday had rolled around, I surprised him with a self drawn comic. Of us as the sidekick personas we had come up with. Deku and Kacchan. 

I gave it to him and I could tell that he was really happy. The comic wasn't even that good. It was barely three pages, the drawings were cranky and the writing never quite fit the speech bubbles I had drawn. 

Katsuki had still loved it.   

It was a shame that when he came home and his parents discovered the comic I gave him, they took it away. Afterwards, I decided it was too risky to gift them to him on his birthday. Instead, I made the transfer on mine, three months later. There wasn't a particular reason for why it took place on my birthday, other than the fact that it was the one day of the year when Katsuki always managed to come over. As sure as the rise of the sun ... I could depend on it. 

You understand now why I was somehow of the belief that Katsuki would come back for that? To collect his gift. His birthday present. 

Somehow, I had thought that he wouldn't miss it for anything in the world. 

The entire day, I'd been staring at the clock. Counting the hours, minutes, the seconds even. The entire day I had felt like he was waiting just around the next corner. That, any minute, he would suddenly appear out of thin air. I would cry, a lot, and I would scream at him. I would ask him how he could do this to me. Why he hadn't shown up until now. And then, after all of the explaining he would have to do, I would hug him and I would laugh. I would take his hand, I would simply never let go again. 

I would tell him that wherever he goes, if he plans on leaving again, he will have to take me with him. I'll follow. 

I was giddy with my anticipation. Before that, I can't even remember when I had last felt that much anticipation for anything. For that day, life felt different for me again. Like, all the faded colors had regained some of their brightness. It made me understand the meaning of the silver lining in the gray of the clouds. I had found mine. 

When the clock struck midnight, knowing that the day was officially over and Katsuki still hadn't come, I felt my heart drop to the floor. Better yet, sinking through it, sinking further and further, like a stone in a never ending pit of water. I feel it even now. I feel as though it hasn't reached the bottom yet. A dull, tugging pain. It just keeps hurting. 

I hope that when it finally hits the ground, it will stay there. I don't want to keep having a heart. Not if it hurts this much. 

I want ... I want Kacchan back. 

Chapter Text

Izuku came home late. It was so well into the night that the only responsible thing would have been to head to bed straight away, if he didn't want to be sleep deprived at work tomorrow. It was late, yes, but he was the opposite of tired. It rendered him incapable of doing so.

There would be no sleep for him tonight. He could feel it. And even if he didn’t, he just knew. His mind was a forest fire of thoughts that wouldn’t be put out for quite some time. For this night, it would continue to burn. And the smoke would only increase, clouding his mind. 

So sleep was falling flat, which left Izuku with the prospect of spending several of the coming hours in unperturbed solitude, coupled with his animated thoughts. It was not one of his favorite combinations. Izuku had never been good at that, but tonight it would take a miracle for him to handle it with grace. 

Coming back then, the room he entered was not his bedroom, but the kitchen. It had been a while since the last time he‘d allowed himself a little reprieve. For cogent reasons. There was also the fact that he had technically, practically sworn never to do it again. Maybe two or three times. Alas, here he was. Doing this thing all over again. 

Katsuki was throwing him off his trail. Not just when he was there in presence, but also when he wasn’t. Like now. Just the mere thought of him was enough to get under Izuku’s skin. It took only that to dislodge his life at its hinges again.

The steps he took then came easy for him. They were practiced and calculated. Getting the glass from his cupboards, the bottle from under the sink, for which he had to crouch down. Back up, to pour the vodka into said glass, not bothering with any ice. He felt almost nothing when he did it. It was as clinical as would be for a surgeon preparing a procedure that was already second nature to him.

The first sip went down like a stone in water. The second one followed easier still. The second sip was a stone thrown down a deep, empty pit. And then a different type of warmth spread. Izuku could feel at least a little bit of the fire relocate from his head to his throat. 

It took a couple more sips, but after some time, the heat began pooling entirely in his abdomen. 

Drinking at night had never been a full habit. Not even before he had wanted to stop it all together. Earlier at the bar, he’d shown so much restraint. So sure, that he had even told Katsuki he wasn’t one to drink during the workweek. But here? Now? In the confines of his own home, he couldn’t muster up nearly the same amount of hesitation. Even if he knew better.

He scoffed to himself, the sound oddly loud in the emptiness of his kitchen. Two. He was breaking two of his rules tonight. As ironic as it was, didn’t that just warrant a toast of sorts? (Alcohol always brought out the sarcastic side to him).  

The kitchen was dark for the most part. Izuku had turned on the light of the suction hood coming in, as to not stand in complete darkness, but the bulb hadn’t been changed since he‘d begun his tenancy. The resulting stream was weak, and therefore could do little against the vastness of the darkness it was meant to defy. It was being swallowed whole. 

Only the moonlight creeping in through his narrow kitchen window allowed for him to still see the loose shapes of his furniture, albeit most of it was unrecognizable now. The white tiles and countertops had turned a somber shade of blue around him. Everything, without exception, changed appearance at night. 

Turning the glass in his hand, he watched the liquid swirl and slosh for a bit, and swallowed the sip he'd just taken. And then his mind went to the place it was most familiar with, feeling safer and more curious now protected by the alcohol in his system. There were few things he knew about Katsuki. He began counting them one by one. Spreading them out in front of his mind like pieces of a paper chase. 

Katsuki was alive. 

Kastuki was 23 years old. 

Katsuki lived in Tokyo.

Katsuki was a cook.

Katsuki had a brother. 

Katsuki had two parents. 

In a way … it was just like counting sheep. Though it would take a while until he had enough of these bits of knowledge to count to lull and tire him, it still calmed him even now to know that he already had six sheep to flock. He wanted to capture the rest, too.  

Izuku stayed out there, leaning against the door of his busted oven, until well after the moon had exited the frame of his kitchen window. Then he took the bottle into his bedroom. 

Work the next day dragged, probably because Izuku had slept little, but the day passed eventually. All of them did. 

He was better on Tuesday. And even more so on Wednesday. Thursday to Friday was never much of a hassle anyway. 

So the week ended faster than Izuku was realizing it. More and more time was getting in between the time that he last saw Katsuki, and the present, and it only served to make him restless. 

He hadn’t accounted for feeling like that. Katsuki was still an open scar, and seeing him was still hurting more than anything else, and yet, it was undeniable to him that the thought of not seeing Katsuki again soon … was upsetting in its own right. 

The weekend arrived, and it was always just the weekend that made his stomach churn. So much time, dozens of hours bundled in one place, that he never knew how to fill adequately. It left too much time for him to think. So when he was done running all of his errands on Saturday and couldn’t otherwise occupy himself, thinking he did. And when that was done, he texted Katsuki again. 

Five days. He’d lasted five days, before caving. Katsuki answered right away, albeit the hour was late and no one with a nine to five job should still be awake then. Izuku caught himself picturing Katsuki, clad in a generic white cook uniform, tirelessly cleaning up an empty restaurant kitchen after a long day of preparing dish after dish, until he registered Izuku’s message and ultimately put the rag down to answer him. 

Was he doing this? Was this what a Saturday night looked like for him? 

They agreed on meeting up on Tuesday. Afterwards, Katsuki wished him a sound night and that was the last text shared between the two that night.  

“Why were you so sad these past weeks?" 

Izuku was back at work, and he’d only been here for less than an hour, in which Jirou and him had so far only engaged in pleasant, light-hearted conversation. Until she had dropped this bomb on him. 

He was nonplussed so much that his eyes widened. For a few seconds, he was just struggling for words, before he said "What are you talking about Kyoka?"

She herself had just come back in from getting a coffee and was putting it down on her desk opposite his now. When she spoke, her voice was noticeably softer, "I mean, I don't even need to know. I just wanted to say that I'm glad you seem to be feeling better again."

Izuku unwinded his legs, put his foot on the ground, straightened in his seat. “Thank you. I mean, I just recently came to realize that I had the flu, so maybe that’s why I seemed a little dejected to you. I’ve just been a little under the weather.” 

He couldn’t say if she was aware that he’d just grasped that out of thin air, but she went on without pause. 

“Oh no, and you came to work like that? You must have felt awful this entire time.” Maybe she really believed him, or maybe she just saw his attempt at dropping the topic for what it was, and did him the favor of  jumping onto it.

It was more of a mumble than anything else when he said “It was alright.” 

“I just hope you didn’t transfer your germs to me."

"The flu is actually not transmitted through germs." 

"Oh I know, you smart ass. Regardless of that, my point still stands. At no point in time do I ever want your germs transferring over to me." She laughed, and with that finally took a seat at her desk. The tenseness in the air dissipated not long after. It was maybe a few minutes before Jirou spoke back up again. "Oh by the way, when are you going to be there today? Should I pick you up with the car? I don't necessarily have to drink anything today so it would be completely fine with me to stay sober."

Izuku didn’t know what she was talking about. And it must show, because in the next moment she was asking him "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

He shook his head hesitantly. 

Jirou's mouth drew into a thin line. "The Christmas market?" She said as clarification.  

Only, it didn’t clarify much. Izuku blinked. 

Kyoka exhaled, already sounding more exasperated with him. "Don't you remember? Some of the colleagues wanted to go to the Christmas market in Shibuya today? The one that has recently opened? You know, the one we picked for the yearly after work bonding activity, which always happens around the same time of the year. Hard to forget because it's literally Christmas themed? I mean, you weren't here last year, but neither was I and I still know of it so you should, too. Also Kendo came by our door last week and asked us whether we were still up for it, and you said you’d come?" By the end of her little ramble, her eyebrows were raised all the way to her hairline. 

Oh fuck. 

Fuck, he did remember faintly having agreed to something when someone had briefly interrupted their flow of work last week to ask them a question, but he'd been so caught up in, well, haze as well as the case at hand that it hadn't registered what exactly he'd agreed to at that moment. 

So this had been the topic then? 

How mad would Jirou be at him, if he admitted to forgetting about it? 

 "Uhm, sure yeah, no, I remember that. Definitely remember that."

She cocked her head to the side, assessing him "Are you really sure? Because your face is saying: Oh no I just got the most inconvenient news."

Izuku shook his head "No" he said, toning up the enthusiasm in his voice, before backtracking altogether. He had fumbled this lie. And they both knew it. "I mean, yeah, I did kind of forget, and it might just be that I have made other plans now... with someone else."  

"But?"

Izuku smiled uncomfortably. "There is no but." 

"Izuku no, don't tell me you wont come. That's unacceptable, you have to help me!" She almost but shrieked, which surprised him. It wasn’t like her at all to care so much about work events. There’d be other opportunities for her to hang out with colleagues. There was an upcoming dinner, not so far into the future that she would be attending. 

"With what?" He asked, confused.

"Yaoyorozo." She said, gesturing profusely to undermine her point. And it clicked for Izuku, just like that.  

Jirou had a crush on one of their colleagues, a woman called Momo Yaoyorozo. A fantastical lawyer, really, working at a different department from them. If Izuku wasn’t mistaken, she had specialized in criminal law. Since both Jirou and him were civil lawyers, it didn’t happen all that often for Momo to cross their paths. But she would be at the market. 

Izuku cleared his throat "Can't you–" 

Jirou cut him off with a mean glare and a gesture of her hand, zipping his  mouth shut instantly. 

"No, I can't. I'll need you there with me. You have to be my moral support. And most importantly, you have to make sure that I shut up the moment I inevitably begin to say something embarrassing. Which we both know will happen if you’re not there."  

He wanted to refuse. Rescheduling with Katsuki was outside the realm of what he was willing to do. By lightyears. Only looking at Kyoka right now made it impossible to do so. He couldn't leave her hanging like that. 

While he hadn't been fully of mind when he'd made the promise to go, he had promised. And he wasn't one to break such vows easily. At least not when it was a promise to others. 

"I– okay. I'll come." He said, defeated.  

She was going to start thanking him profusely the next moment he could tell, so he hit her with another question before she could get to it. 

"I'll have to bring someone else, though. Someone who’s not a lawyer. None of our colleagues. Would that be okay?"

Koyka halted, then scoffed "Oh sure, do that. That's fine. You can show up with the boogieman, for all I care. As long as you come."  

"Don't give me ideas." he smiled. 

So it happened that on his break, he texted Katsuki to invite him to an after-work work event at the Christmas Market. Katsuki agreed. Izuku had not expected him to refuse.

Winter, it seemed, had fully crashed into Tokyo. Izuku was freezing in the coat he‘d haphazardly thrown on earlier when he had left his apartment. 

His mom had told him weeks ago to get himself a warmer jacket, and he hadn‘t thought much of it. He saw, and felt now, that she‘d been right and he’d been a fool. 

From the station to the market, it was a ten minute walk, but he made an excursion along the way to meet up with Katsuki.  

The other was  easy to spot in the alleyway when Izuku got there. 

A tall, unmoving figure, resting on the sidewalk that was otherwise filled with busied townspeople. He was that motionless pillar, seemingly hinged on the brick wall he was leaning against, the stark contrast of constancy in a flow of movement. He hadn‘t spotted Izuku, yet, which allowed Izuku to take his time getting accustomed to the sight. Third time was not always a charm, not for this. Not for coming eye to eye with a formerly dear person you‘d believed dead. Looking was still hard. Granted, it was less painful than the first time, but only by a fraction. 

It became apparent rather quickly that Katsuki of today was different from the previous times, now that he wasn’t surrounded by his friends. 

He was pensive. Engrossed in thought, gaze set to some place far in the distance that Izuku couldn’t pinpoint. No shift around him registered, showed in a change of his expression, be it a minor one. He was disengaged from his surroundings. He was a lighthouse, unwavering, amidst a turbulent sea. 

It was innate to Katsuki that he stood out. The brightness of his hair a beacon of light that drew eyes. It had always drawn Izuku's, whenever his gaze had strayed there. 

Juxtaposed to the black of his clothes, it didn't form the contradiction that it should have. Black had always been a match for Katsuki. 

And even if he had undoubtedly changed over the years, had seemingly retired the anger of his youth, there was still this edge to him. Izuku could see it now, at this moment, when Katsuki didn't know of the eyes on him. When he hadn't yet taken on this placid act that Izuku asked of him. This was Katsuki, as he was now. A changed man, but not all of the past was lost. 

That turbid, gloomy quality that had clung to him like iridescent, lucid mist in the past. That had scared off all the other school kids from ever befriending him. It was still there. 

Black fit him therefore. With the richness and opacity of it, you could never know what it covered, what hid beyond its inaccessible surface. 

Katsuki was that to him now. A night sky of obscured stars. 

When Izuku made to deplete that last stretch between them, he used that time wisely to collect himself. Beating his heart into submission. For once this evening began, he needed to be sure that he would be okay. That he would manage. He couldn’t have it that anyone would detect what a nervous mess he truly was on the inside. 

The closer he got, the clearer the picture of Katsuki turned. He could see now that Katsuki's cheeks were slightly reddened from the temperatures, the color tying into the scarlet of his eyes. 

There was one calm breath left for him, before Katsuki turned his head. And then their eyes locked. And Izuku’s breath stuttered, as he had expected. Something in Katsuki's gaze clicked, took him from that distant place he was in and linked him fully into this moment. Izuku's throat tightened, for a second, until he told himself to get over it.

"Hello." Izuku said, surprising himself by speaking first. His voice felt rough, and he swallowed the urge to cough. 

Something in Katsuki's shoulders tensed. Hard to say what set it off, whether it was the proximity of them, or Izuku having spoken. 

Dropping his gaze to their feet, Izuku estimated the distance. Half a meter was separating them. Which was a comfortable distance. A safe one. If Katsuki came closer at any point in time now, Izuku could easily evade him by taking a step back. Or two. As many as he desired. He was much freer on this sidewalk than he had been in the bar storage or that booth in the wall. Every direction was open to his escape. 

“Izuku." 

Katsuki was looking at him. Calm. Tranquil. As much the lighthouse as he‘d been earlier. His voice was coarse, like Izuku‘s, but maybe that was because he'd been standing in the cold for longer, and less for Izuku’s reason, that it had taken true effort to say it. 

It was time to break the eye contact, so Izuku dropped his gaze. "About today." He preluded, while stirring into motion. Katsuki settled into the same slow paced walk beside him. 

“What about it?” 

"I'm sorry for inviting you."

"It's okay. I really don't mind." Katsuki shrugged.

Izuku inhaled, then he said, "I just couldn't cancel this anymore, since apparently, I had promised my colleague to go and even just magically forgetting about it after doesn’t allow you to bail out of it again."

Katsuki threw him a glance. "It's okay." 

Izuku didn’t know why he’d felt such a need to clarify further, but he suppressed it. Katsuki didn’t need to know that there would have definitely been other opportunities to see him. That inviting him today had in fact not been unavoidable. 

That Izuku had been genuinely anxious at the thought of canceling an already set date, for the uncertainty of a later one. 

They kept walking. Completely in sink. Izuku wasn‘t sure what it was. If Katsuki just matched his pace perfectly, or if he was the one doing it. He cleared his throat. "There's still some things I wanted to tell you about before we go join the others in a minute." 

“I’m all ears.” Katsuki said, sounding more serious than his choice of words. 

"Something organizational, about today. The plan for now is that we'll go and meet up with my colleagues. We'll stay with them for an hour, in which we have to do one thing and once that is done, we're free to separate from them. A colleague of mine, Kyoka Jirou, I'll introduce you two, wants to hang out with another colleague today, Momo. She's a tall, black haired woman with a distinctive ponytail. Jirou is great, but she still needs a bit of a push to get over herself in this, which is the only reason why I’m here in the first place. Once I’ve achieved that, we can ditch." 

“I understand.” Katsuki nodded deeply. Izuku saw it from the periphery of his vision.

Something was weird about this. Made Izuku uneasy. How pliant Katsuki was. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been like this, not when Izuku had not asked him to beforehand. This didn't feel entirely ... safe. Like the other shoe was gonna drop on him any moment. 

He decided to swallow his suspicions for the moment. "Another thing. When I introduce you and Kyoka, you need to follow my lead. She doesn't know who you are and I'd like to keep it that way. I told her that you're an old friend of mine. If she asks you how we‘ve come to know each other, you'll tell her that we've gone to school together, but kind of lost touch after graduation. Now we don't see each other much these days. This day just happens to be the one time a year we can make time to meet up. It matches entirely with what I told her, so try to really memorize this." Izuku cleared his throat “And you–“ he paused, suddenly becoming aware of how the tips of his fingers were freezing. Looking down revealed that they were rosy red from the cold. Relenting, he finally stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat. “You can tell her all you want about your life for all I care. No need to lie about that. Just - refrain from telling her any of our history. She's relatively nosy, so she will ask about that at some point. When that happens, you'll leave it to me to stop her." 

They had slowed down in their walking, and Izuku actually took the time to face Katsuki and he saw only the blank canvas again. Entirely inaccessible to Izuku’s scrutiny. It was not obvious what Katsuki was thinking about any of this. The things that were being asked of him.  

“Okay.” Katsuki said, his voice soft and clear. Free of any heaviness that might have come with conflicted-ness. 

Izuku had to assume that none of it made a difference. That Katsuki cared little about having to lie. About having to deceive someone, for the sole reason of keeping comfort and face. On a second thought, it figured that he wouldn't care. Lying has seemed to have so far caused him little distress, if any at all. 

Izuku shook his head, trying to bury that thought right where it had sprouted. No use in getting upset about that again. 

He accelerated. Katsuki easily caught up to him without so much as a moment of adjustment. 

After, Izuku didn't make the effort to keep up the conversation. He'd have to save that energy for Kyoka and the others very soon. When he’d try to keep up appearances. Putting on the show of him and Katsuki still being friends. 

Kyoka he’d have to deceive, sure, but there was no point in doing that for Katsuki just now. It‘d be a waste of his efforts, since they both knew very well what was really going on between them. 

The moment they set their eyes on the giant poison ivy archway marking the entrance, it became apparent that hey reached the Christmas market. 

The archway was impressive, twice as tall as them, illuminated letters adorned the very top of it, spelling the words 'Christmas Market' in English. Fairy light chains were braided into the dark green foliage and the heads of their glowing bulbs peeked out every few leaves. 

Izuku took it all in with little more than a passing glance. 

His interest lay in what the archway was guarding, the square market space inside. He roamed it for any signs of this evening’s company.  

The market was studded with booths, neatly arranged in row after row, forming corridors that people were leisurely strolling through. 

The very end of the market was covered by a vast glass roof, stretching over the end part of the plein-air market, as well as the market hall.  

The whole scene was, though Izuku rarely ever used that word, picturesque. 

The booths were of dark wood, from the walls to the roofs, though some of them were further decorated with colorful canopies. 

Izuku couldn’t be called an expert when it came to Christmas, never one to decorate let alone celebrate himself, but even to his untrained eye, there was something missing from the picture of pre Christmas frolicking.  

The answer came in the great irony of the word itself. It descended upon him slowly, like a snowflake from the sky. Snow. This year, it hadn't snowed yet in Tokyo. It was doubtful that it still would. 

All in all, the European flare was hard to overlook, but it didn't come as a surprise. As Christmas was a  European tradition, only really popularized in Japan during the last century, Izuku didn't really care for it that much. 

His care for it went only as far as his gratitude for the vacation days it would grant him.  Days that he would use to finally pay his mother the visit he’d been promising her for months now. 

Katsuki stirred, his coat ruffling audibly, but for getting Izuku’s attention, it was entirely unnecessary. His presence was palpable. Izuku wouldn't be able to block him out, if his life depended on it. 

The buzz that he felt under his skin on the side at which Katsuki stood, though he could never be sure if he wasn’t imagining it. They were not touching in any place. Why then, was Katsuki so under his skin? 

Izuku shook himself discreetly, trying to put a stop to the sensation, be it real or imaginative. He couldn't help but wonder then what Katsuki saw when he looked at this place. What he felt. Was it the same indifferent tolerance that dispersed inside Izuku? Or did he care about the holiday? Izuku snuck a glance at the other. And looked away again, before Katsuki had time to notice.  

Christmas in Japan wasn't interchangeable with the wholesome family holiday that it seemed to be celebrated as in other, more western countries of the world. In Japan, people considered its fashion more comparable to what valentine's day represented elsewhere.

The one period of time in a year when couples expressed their affections for each other by indulging in expensive, heartfelt gifts, or, well, by going to places like this one. Christmas markets. 

To look at the illuminations. And bask in the atmosphere, Izuku supposed. It wasn't like he had any kind of notable experience when it came to that. 

Yet another reason why he'd been hesitant to invite Katsuki today. Internally, he sighed to himself. There was no use in second-guessing his decision now. They were already here, after all.

"Izuku, hi!" A voice declared suddenly, which had Izuku perking up, discarding the train of thoughts he’d been getting lost in. It was Jirou’s voice. 

Somehow, she had been faster than Izuku at spotting them. They must have been pretty easy to single out, an awkward pair of two men, hovering around the entrance archway in silence. 

Jirou was sauntering over to them, making her way through the bottleneck of people that parted them. Izuku couldn't tell for certain yet, but there was a bigger group of people in the direction that Jirou came from. Izuku assumed them to be his other colleagues. 

In the moment that Jirou set her gaze on who was next to Izuku, a gleam appeared in her eyes, one that had Izuku squeamish despite himself. God, she was going to be insufferable about Katsuki. Izuku could tell then and there. 

"Well, hi" she said, while she went for a hug with Izuku. An exuberant one, contrary to the fact that they had literally seen each other earlier at the chancellery. It was even worse when she hugged Katsuki. 

Izuku watched them, because it was weird to him to see Katsuki interact with someone else. He remembered only the contrary boy, who had liked to be rude to everyone he met without exception. 

But Katsuki had no trouble hugging Jirou back. Easily slipping into the movement and the close proximity, like it meant nothing to him. Like he wasn't, had never been, that child that had hated to be touched. 

Izuku could only stand there dumbfounded, and watch in awe, hoping that neither of them had time to notice his folly. 

Once they parted, Jirou leveled Katsuki with that same gleeful stare. “You must be Katsuki, right?" 

Katsuki smiled. And it really shouldn‘t be, but it was enough to take Izuku off guard, momentarily. Katsuki had rarely ever smiled in the past. And even in the few recent conversations they’d had so far, he hadn't smiled like that. Not once. Like it was easy. Like it wasn’t just one way to cover up discomfort. 

All the smiles he'd worn in Izuku's company so far had been strained. Not this one. This smile cost him nothing but the second it took to produce it. 

Katsuki's voice was warm and polite. "Yes, nice to meet you. Kyoka, right?"

Jirou smiled back. "Yes. Izuku's colleague.” She paused to snort for a second, “Though I suppose that doesn’t set me much apart from all the others you’ll meet soon." 

Katsuki looked apologetic all of a sudden. "Yeah. Sorry for breaching in on your guys' thing. I really didn’t want to intrude."

"Oh no, not at all. You're not intruding at all." She waved her hands minutely. "If anything, you'll do us a favor. So many lawyers in one public place isn't good, I’m sure, it disturbs the natural balance. You'll be the counterweight to our chaotic evil energy. You'll balance us out just fine.”

"Okay then." Katsuki laughed. A sound that had Izuku's ears ringing. Not with the volume of it, but with the beat of his own heart. He was pretty sure that he hadn't heard Katsuki laugh in ten years. And he couldn't remember the last time it had happened, even when they had still been friends. 

Jirou spoke up and that ended Izuku's wallowing quickly. "I figured we could get ourselves something to drink first and then later, once I gained a bit of liquid confidence, we can reunite with the others and start the mission for today.” She then directed a pointed look at Izuku. "Okay?" 

"Well, that’s the reason of my coming, I’ve been told." Izuku joked dryly. 

They started walking toward one of the booths then, before coming to stand at one of the tables at the front of it. This way, they retained a good view of the wooden menu sign, which hung from right under the red-striped awning. The table was round and small, forcing them to arrange in a triangular formation around it, with Katsuki and him standing next to each other, and Jirou facing them from across it. 

They had just come here, but it was already odd. Having to position himself like this on purpose, just to keep up this appearance of good will between him and Katsuki. Of familiarity. Of comfort. Of liking, even. Izuku's throat tightened. He distracted himself by scanning the sign. 

The menu, he realized, was divided into two parts, alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. He didn't plan on getting himself drunk that day (the shame of last week was still ricocheting inside his chest whenever he allowed himself to think about that day), so he only skimmed over that side of the sign. Though, when he read the words 'mulled wine', he couldn't help his confusion. He’d never heard of the term before, despite his being a seasoned drinker, for better or for worse. 

It must be a special holiday drink, otherwise he couldn‘t explain to himself why he‘d never heard of it. 

Coincidentally, it was at that moment that Jirou said "I think I'll get myself a glass of mulled wine."  

Izuku turned to her. "What exactly is that?"

Though he'd asked Jirou, it was Katsuki who answered first. 

"Mulled wine is a type of wine derived from Europe. It's mixed with sugar, juice and different spices. Like cinnamon, star anise and cloves spice as the more basic spices. People in Europe commonly drink it during the end of year holiday season. Factually, it's a type of red wine."

Jirou was more surprised even than Izuku was. She faced Katsuki staggered, "That was an awful lot of knowledge about mulled wine. I would have just said 'it's high proof enough to get me drunk' and called it a day.” She joked, which had Katsuki and her laughing and Izuku forcing a subdued chuckle.

“If your hair was a shade whiter, I might have just had to ask you what you were doing on the 24th.”  She added, as the laughing fizzled out. 

Katsuki put a finger over his mouth, signaling his secrecy, playing into the joke. 

Then Jirou said "No, seriously though, what's your profession?"

“I'm a line cook." Katsuki said, and another smile was on his face. It wasn't cocky. It spoke entirely of civility and good manners.

"Figures then that you'd know so much about this. Izuku needs to actually bring you around more. I wasn't aware he had such cultured, sophisticated friends. Apart from me of course." She said, with a wink to Izuku. 

"I agree. To the former. The latter, I wouldn't know." Katsuki teased, smiling wickedly.

"You'll see tonight. Now what would you like to order?" Jirou asked, wrapping up their short banter. 

After briefly skimming the menu again, Izuku told her he'd take a hot chocolate. Katsuki answered he would take the same right after him, which came as a surprise. Jirou made her exit then to order and get their drinks, leaving them to their own devices.

Izuku and Katsuki were alone again. It wouldn’t last for an eternity, but it was enough time in any case to make Izuku’s arm hair rise. 

It took just one look at Katsuki, who had his arm propped on the table, body turned in Izuku’s direction. 

It had quieted down, with Jirou being gone. They were likely both aware that Izuku would not speak. Not with this many people around, let alone his coworkers. Katsuki on the other hand shouldn't have such qualms, yet he stayed quiet, too. 

So they remained like this. Silently sizing each other up. Katsuki in his unnerving, assessing way that had Izuku wanting to close his eyes and draw into himself. Had him wanting to hide. 

Jirou came back and the moment slipped away. Into the ether, where all of their past had gone. 

She set the tray with the drinks down onto the table, and Izuku scurried back a step to make space, thereby bringing more distance between him and Katsuki again.  

The conversation picked back up naturally. Jirou, unaware of what had transpired, began her rapid-fire assault on Katsuki. The one that Izuku had already expected and therefore warned the other about. 

"So. What do you like about cooking?" She asked, after a sip of her wine. 

It took Katsuki a moment to answer "I like cooking for the people I care about." 

Jirou raised a brow, "You care that much about the customers in your restaurant?" 

Katsuki’s expression turned into one that spoke of playful skepticism "Naturally. As much as you presumably care about your clients I'd say. There are a lot of different people that come to that restaurant. Families. Couples. Friends. Even single people. I like the idea of giving them all a good time." 

"Touché." Jirou said, before smirking, impressed. "And what's your favorite dish?"

Now it was Katsuki's time to raise an eyebrow "To cook or to eat?" 

"Both, in the case that it differs."  

"Sushi on lazy days. And more fancy Sushi when I want to challenge myself to probe into my artistic vision. For both cooking and eating." Katsuki said.  

"Interesting. And what's Izuku's?" She asked, startling both of them. 

Katsuki went rigid by his side, but Kyoka didn’t notice. “I mean, if I had a high end cuisine chef friend, I'd make them cook for me all the time. Surely Izuku doesn't spare you. What does he ask you to cook the most?” 

So far, Izuku had just let them talk to each other. Giving them the opportunity to warm up and get to know each other, something that Izuku and Jirou had at least five times a week. So Izuku hadn’t the inclination to insert himself in the conversation, at least for now. 

He'd expected for Jirou to stir the talk into this direction at some point during the evening, which was why he'd told Katsuki he would handle such an occurrence. Only problem was that he didn't know how to answer this question. 

Katsuki had never cooked for him as a chef. And Izuku didn't know the names of the fancy dishes he must be serving at his Michelin star-ed restaurant. 

After a moment of fumbling, he had finally made up his mind and wanted to just go with saying sushi, when Katsuki beat him to it. 

“Katsudon.”

A cold shiver ran down Izuku’s back. He couldn’t quite believe what he had heard. He breathed out slowly. And then he stared at Katsuki, not caring to hide the pure  repugnance he felt for him in that moment. He was actually going to kill him later, after this. When Jirou wasn’t around anymore. Since she was still with them now, Izuku wiped his face clean again.

The problem was, Katsuki had not lied. He had not just blurted out the first name of a generic dish that had come to mind, no, he'd named a dish that Inko used to cook for them. So often, that just thinking about it now was enough to conjure the memory of coming home from middle school, entering the hallway, with the scent of it greeting him. Knowing that Katsuki was already there to sit with his mom at the dinner table in their living room. And Izuku had only to open the door to join them for it. 

Though Katsuki had never cooked for Izuku as a chef, he'd been in the kitchen with Inko enough to help here and there, something that Izuku had never found a liking at. 

His cheeks flushed vibrantly and he couldn’t help it. If only he had ordered himself a mulled wine, like Jirou, or well, maybe a beer, then he could blame it entirely on the alcohol. And wouldn't give himself away to Katsuki now.

"When I ask Izuku about his favorite things, he never answers. He's so secretive. This–" Jirou said, while pointing between herself and Katsuki "is very practical. You have to tell me more." She put the arm she had used to point on the table, elbow first, to rest her head in her hand. 

Katsuki looked at Izuku and answered her without averting his gaze. "What do you want to know?" He kept his voice playful and light, but Izuku could tell it was an act. To fool Jirou. 

It sunk in at that moment what Katsuki had said. Would he really answer her? It seemed that way. It should be scary, the prospect of what Jirou might ask Katsuki, but Izuku wasn't too concerned with that, since he realized something then. Katsuki wouldn't be able to say all that much. He didn't know Izuku. Not anymore. 

"What's his favorite color?" 

"Red." Katsuki said, finally turning back to her, giving her his undivided focus when he’d realized that Izuku wouldn’t stop him. 

"Okay even I knew that. Not sure why I even asked." She took another sip of her wine "Mmh. What about his favorite books?"   

Again, Katsuki answered without much hesitation. "The All Might Manga."  

Jirou shook her head in dejection. "Honestly, I should have seen that one coming. Shame on me."

Izuku gave her a smile. It was her after all, who had gifted him that All Might mug months ago that he still used every day to drink his coffee at the chancellery.

“He’s got any siblings?”

“No,” Katsuki said, before turning to Izuku. “You didn’t tell her that?”

“Don’t blame me” Izuku averted, “She has never asked me that before.”

“How about his hobbies, he got any?”

“Jirou.” Izuku admonished her. “Harsh.”

“He likes reading.  And he’s got a talent for drawing.”

“Really?” Jirou faced him all the sudden “I never knew.”

“Because I don’t do that anymore.” Izuku said decidedly, with a subtle glare towards Katsuki. 

"Guess I have to ask something of actual substance then." She mused, tilting her head back. "Since when are you guys friends, anyway?"

There it was. The dreaded question that Izuku had known her to bring up. He squared his shoulders up without really meaning to. 

One look to the side confirmed to him what he'd been hoping. That Katsuki would stay put for this one. He stared back at Izuku calmly. Mouth set. Like they had rehearsed. This was something that Izuku would guide them through. He put on his most convincing smile, his demeanor turning into his definition of casual before he sounded the lines he had rehearsed on his own earlier. 

"We met in high school and became friends pretty quickly, Katsuki was a bit of a ruffian, so it took a bit for him to warm up to me. You know how it goes. When I left for college, the contact turned kind of sparse and we didn't really manage to bring it back to the same level even when Katsuki came here to Tokyo, because university schedules and all.” When Izuku had finished, Katsuki gave it all an affirmative nod.

 Jirou took in the information and spared them from asking any follow up questions. Which was what Izuku had been going for. He'd purposefully made it sound as uneventful, as trifling as possible, so their story would sound just like any other friends' story. 

Friends in High School turned long distance friends in College. As life went. And now, adult friends that regularly got caught up in the currents of their adult lives, preventing them from meeting up more than maybe a couple times a year.

It was all a lie of course, but Jirou would never be able to tell. 

Standing at the booths was too risky for them. Izuku realized that moment. It gave this meeting too much of a personal, intimate feel. It was too relaxed. Gave Jirou too much opportunity and incentive to ask things like that. They should get on with this.  

He took his cup and finished the remains of his hot (now merely medium warm) chocolate, and spurred them on to do the same under the pretext of wanting to see more of what this market had to offer. 

They got going not long after, and continued to stroll over the place, albeit it didn't take long for Jirou to stop them at another booth, this time one that sold food. Sweets like candied apples, caramelized almonds as well as fried chestnuts. Jirou tried all of them and handed out some to both Katsuki and Izuku without them asking. She was nice like that. 

"Where do candied apples come from?" she asked then, probably just for the fun of it. When she bit into the one she'd bought for herself, an artificial garish red that made it look almost like a translucent plastic overcoat, there was a loud cracking sound as the sugar coat around it broke.

“They were invented in the USA in the last century." Katsuki said.

Jirou looked at him in surprise and impressed. “Is this what they teach you in your cook training?"

“Among other things." 

After that, Jirou made a game out of asking Katsuki about all of the food they saw. Every time they passed something that peaked her interest, she would turn to him and ask whether he could recite anything about the dish she'd been ogling. Katsuki delivered every single time. He was so knowledgeable about food (more than Izuku had been thinking even). So it came that Izuku found out that the small sausages they passed hanging on cords from the back wall in one stall, were  air dried, and German. Salami and Landjäger, Katsuki had called them. And Stollen, also German, were dense cake pastries laced with dry fruits. It turned out that Katsuki was like an encyclopedia for food and drinks. Izuku might have never found out, if it wasn't for Jirou being with them today. 

Here and there, they passed booths that sold souvenirs, smaller Christmas gifts. Mostly trinkets and decor. Handmade snow globes, Christmas-themed refrigerator magnets and keychains and the likes. Jirou bought some of them, but neither Izuku nor Katsuki got out their wallets for anything that wasn't intended to be ingested. 

Izuku couldn’t really think of a person he’d be gifting that to. His childhood home was ripping at the seams with all the things that his mother refused to throw away, Ochako didn’t much care for this and Mei and him hadn’t talked since the break up, of course. 

Those were his reasons for why he wasn’t buying any of these gifts. What were Katsuki’s? And that wasn’t just it. Jirou just generally went about this place differently from them. She looked at the light installations, when Izuku didn't. Neither did Katsuki. 

As far as Izuku was concerned, Katsuki and Jirou were hitting it off. He couldn't say how long they'd been here already, but a look above revealed to him that it must have been some time. It was fairly dark. The sky had turned black and blue during the time they had spent here. The fairy lights around and above them, already visible since they'd come here late in the afternoon, were beginning to really stand out. A silent alarm that had Izuku reflecting on how to spend the rest of tonight’s time that was still left. 

They needed to start with the plans soon for which they had originally come here. He didn't know Katsuki's schedule and his free time and he didn't feel like jeopardizing any of it. They've got to find Yaoyouruzu soon.  

"What do you say, Jirou, should we look for the others?" He therefore asked, when he saw an opening in the conversation Katsuki and Jirou had been having for the last few minutes. Somehow they had managed to get the topic on Sashimi. Excuse Izuku for not picking up on how that had started. 

"Sure." She said, and there was an immediate air of nervousness to her demeanor. Like a veil she had put down. "I should have probably not waited this long. I feel like I already lost all of the tipsiness from earlier." 

"You'll do just fine." Izuku assured her. 

So they looked for the others, which meant that though they were still just walking over the place, they were now doing so with purpose, their attention focused on their surroundings. It still left them with time on their hands.  

"You know, Kendo and Monoma will be there, too." Jirou said conversationally. 

Izuku shrugged. "Wonder if they'll finally reveal that they're in a relationship"

"We should keep an eye out for sure."

When Jirou noticed Katsuki's confused expression, she was quick to explain to him who they were talking about. Katsuki nodded along then, a furrow appearing between his brow. "So relationships are not allowed in your company?" There was a subtle note of interest in his voice, that Izuku could explain to himself only by Katsuki thinking it unusual. Policies like that might not exist in his branch of industry.  

"It's very scandalous, at least, but you know lawyers. They know how to work around policies. How to bend the rules when they really want to." Jirou explained.

After that, they were back to searching for the others. Eventually, it was Jirou who spotted them standing next to what Izuku upon closer inspection identified as a moderately sized skating rink.  He could make out the familiar faces of some colleagues that worked in his department, as well as some that didn't. Momo was with them, standing next to a woman called Hagakure that Izuku knew mostly from sight. Kendo and Monoma were also there, like Jirou had said, already on the rink. Skating so close to each other they might as well have been paired up for a tournament. 

The three of them came to stand at the rink. Their positions switched, so that Jirou, who was a puffer between them throughout the entire time they spent strolling the market, now stood to Izuku's left, forming their connecting link to the bigger group. 

It meant that Katsuki and Izuku were standing next to each other now. It happened very swiftly. It was a crowded space, this attraction in particular drew in the masses it seemed, and when someone to their backs pushed past them, it shoved them right into each other. Their elbows touched, and then their arms brushed against each other. From their hands to their shoulders. It had a beam of small electric shock traveling from the point of impact through Izuku's entire arm. 

His head snapped up to Katsuki. Katsuki stared at him in akin shock. 

It was as if the electric shock had locked up Izuku’s air pipe. His breath was stuck in his throat. For barely a moment, then he regained his composure and looked away.  

Izuku had done his best to ignore Katsuki until now. It's been helpful so far to have Jirou with them. It prevented him from slipping into his temper. He was so used to putting on a show for Kyoka that it was easier for him to keep his cool with her around. To not let his mind slip into that angry, hurt place that seemed to become his center of gravity any time he was around Katsuki. He supposed he and Katsuki both have been weirdly placid today.

It all broke away now. Every seal. Shattered into its components.

For fact was, Katsuki was standing next to him. At this very instance. And Izuku couldn't pretend any longer that he wasn't. He wasn't capable of it. His emotions flared up, and they stayed up, at this heightened level. The very crest. An animal torn out of hibernation by the winds of that first spring thunderstorm.

His mouth turned dry. And he began to feel twitchy, no shiverish, all of the sudden. He lifted both of his hands to the railing that surrounded the ice rink, grasping the cool metal tightly to keep his hands from shaking. Jirou ought to not see him like this. 

Katsuki shifted at that moment. Closer to Izuku. When he spoke, Izuku realized that coming closer was only a side effect of putting himself into Jirou's earshot. 

"So, Yaoyorozu?" He asked her. "That's the black haired woman, isn't it?" 

Jirou looked at Katsuki, flushed, and then toward Momo. Pure, unfiltered affection came over her features. "Yes."

Izuku followed her gaze. Momo wasn't too far from them. She stood on the other end of their gathering. Next to Hagakure. 

"It seems to me like she's trying to get that other woman to join her on the rink." Katsuki continued. 

Jirou answered, still looking at Momo. "I guess so. Though I highly doubt that Hagakure will agree. She's terrified of anything that requires both forward momentum and balance at the same time. Everyone knows."

"Why don't you skate with her?"

Jirou snapped her head back to Katsuki, horrified. "Oh, I couldn't."

"Because you never learned how to skate?" He teased. 

"No, no I... I did. I just can't skate with her."

"Why not?"

"Look at her." She cried, turning her gaze back on Momo. "I will make a complete fool of myself. She's so elegant and beautiful and tall. I'll look like a baby stork taking its first steps when I try skating next to her. And my humiliation will only make it worse. And I had a huge glass of wine earlier. I'm not even sure if I'm allowed on there. Like, legally."

Jirou was scared. And she was on her best way to back down from a perfectly good chance to get to know Yaoyorozu again, which had so far happened all the times that Izuku had tried to help her with that. Izuku felt for her, but he also felt for himself, since watching Jirou continuously miss her chances had turned into a painful thing to watch quite some time ago. 

"Can I ask how long you've liked her?" Katsuki spoke. 

Jirou gave him a wry smile. "Since the first day I saw her pretty much. One year ago."

"So it's been a while." He said, pensive. "Tell me if I overstep, but I have some experience when it comes to this. Long-term crushes. Longing. Not knowing how to go about approaching someone, even when you really want to. The way I see it, though rejection is arguably painful, it doesn't come close to the pain of not going for something you want and thereby essentially robbing yourself of the chance to ever have it. Isn’t that tragically more painful? Knowing that the only thing that ever stopped you from having something you really wanted, was your own fear of not getting it? It’s ironic even. Now I can only speak for myself, but I would rather take the rejection. At least then you don’t have to regret never trying in the first place.“

Jirou blinked. Once. Twice. Before a surprised smile broke free at the seams of her lips. "Wow. You're kind of intense."

"So I've been told. Comes with handling spices and open  fire all day, I think." he shrugged nonchalantly, though the twitch of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

"You know what." She said then, slowly nodding to herself. "You're right. I'll do it. I'll just do it. It's been a year now, it's time." 

And she took off after that, running off toward Yaoyorozu, once again leaving the both of them there at the railing.

Izuku was stunned. By Jirou and Katsuki. He almost couldn't believe his eyes when he trailed after her. Watched her approach their colleague, and eventually go with her on the ice, like she hadn't been dreading that exact moment for as long as Izuku had known and been working with her.  

Katsuki and him watched them for a minute longer in silence, spectators at the side of the rink, before Izuku found himself breaking away. Quietly, still in disbelief, he murmured "You know. I've been telling her the same thing as you for the better half of this year now. And she's never bothered to listen to me." 

"Oh." 

"You were just more convincing it seems."

With the whole 'I know longing' thing. Whoever he meant by that, he'd said it with enough conviction that Izuku believed him.  

The earnest emotion behind those words had made it almost painful to listen to. It wasn't only that Izuku would never manage to be that intense about these matters, he was also more than curious about the person that Katsuki was referencing. Just what has happened in the last decade? Who had he fallen so unhappily in love with? 

Was this the reason for his unmarried status? That there was someone he wanted, but couldn’t have? Some man that Izuku couldn't even put a face to. 

Something inside his chest cramped. And when he swallowed, his throat was tight and raw again. Great. 

“I wasn’t entirely truthful, though.” Katsuki muttered, surprising Izuku. 

He forced his mind off of that topic and on to a better one. They had achieved what they had wanted to, their mission for the day over. They better made haste now. He waved the rest of his coworkers that had decided to stay off the rink goodbye without much bravado and, when he'd gotten at least one of them to notice it, beckoned for Katsuki to follow him. It was time for them to get out of here. 

When it had been time to decide where they would go, Izuku had suggested Yoyogi Park. It was the closest thing around that would allow for a serious talk without being too public. Though it was pretty popular with the tourists during the day time, it should be close to deserted now at night. 

So they walked here. 

It took barely a few minutes, but by the time they arrived, they had both turned into different versions of themselves again. The real ones. It was a thing left unsaid, yet they were both aware that the time of pretending was over. At least for tonight. Izuku had been waiting for this moment. For the curtains to drop. When they could stop being the theater actors that dazzled their live audience with the lie of a longstanding deep friendship where there wasn't one. 

Their play had ended, and their characters died on stage. The real people behind their masks reemerged. 

In their reality, Katsuki and him were strangers. Or as close to that as was possible for two people that had slept in the same bed during sleepovers one decade ago. That had been there during the toothless smiles phases, for the scraped knees. 

And yet, Izuku wasn't ready to pull this off the same way he had done the other times before. He wouldn't ask Katsuki to be passive. He wouldn't turn him into someone that only listened, answered, never spoke unless Izuku animated him to. Not this time. He didn't have it in himself to do that. 

After the night of socializing they had just gone through, manually transitioning back into that state would feel unnatural and forced. 

Tonight might actually be the one opportunity for them to have a real conversation, where they both would be the conductors of their own words.

What he hadn't accounted for however, was that even this park hadn't managed to escape the cities’ Christmas effort unscathed. It was illuminated, just like the other places they had gone through. 

Blue-glowing garlands were interwoven with the trees that lined the gravel pathway, trapping them under a criss-cross net. And still, it felt different, better than the champagne fairy lights at the market, because it provided them with light, while at the same time not breaking up the dimness of the night. The blue was complementary to the environment, instead of contrary. It helped, too, that the garlands were pretty high hanging.  

Izuku put his gaze on the pathway in front of them, watching his steps as he took them. "So. How was Kyoka?" He asked, because he wasn't ready to jump into the cold water just yet.

Unlike him, Katsuki was looking straight at the blue lights above. It gave Izuku the opportunity to watch his side profile for a minute. The artificial light was drenching Katsuki in shades of pale blue. His hair and face most of all. He looked unreal. Like he was looking out at the sky from underwater. It lasted until Katsuki made to face him, by then Izuku had turned his gaze back ahead.

"She was really nice. You seem to be good friends." 

Everything was subdued at night, and so was Katsuki's voice. Softened out and blurry around the edges. Like it was, just as their environment, enveloped in benevolent shadow.

Izuku moved his hands in his jacket pocket, fingers twitching against the cold. "We are."

"And you're still friends with Ochako and Iida?"

Izuku had never told Ochako and Iida about Katsuki, because there was no need to tell them of his neighborhood friend. They weren't in the same grade. Hadn't even gone to the same primary school. Factually, there was no chance they could have known Katsuki, so Izuku hadn't bothered at first. And when Katsuki had run away, he had purposefully kept that chapter sealed. 

Katsuki however, had gotten all sorts of updates on Izuku’s life, he always knew about every new high school friend Izuku made. The two year age difference had shown in that. Katsuki was always curious about where Izuku was in life, because being older had meant that he was always ahead.

"I am." He confirmed. And he contemplated it before saying "They're getting married soon." 

He hadn't accounted for a reaction from Katsuki, but Katsuki did react to it. Something about him dulled in that instant. For a fraction of a second, before he quickly went back to the easy going expression from before. "Good for them." Was the only thing he said, which struck Izuku as weird. Like it wasn’t the only thing that Katsuki had thought.

"Yeah. It is." 

"You know, I went looking for you." Katsuki said, after a bit of silence. 

Gravel screeched beneath his foot when Izuku came to a stand. His heart suddenly felt like it was turning into solid stone. Peridotite. The densest rock there was. For a breath, the world stood still. 

Katsuki won't ... he won't talk about it now, will he?

"After that first night at the bar. I ran an extensive google search, now that I had somewhat of a clue about you. And I found out that you went to college at the Tokyo state university. That you studied law."

Every tense muscle in Izuku's body relaxed again. After the bar. Katsuki was talking about the present. Izuku exhaled. It took him another second for the words to sink in in their entirety. Then he frowned.

"But you asked me what I do for work. Why would you do that if you already knew?"

Katsuki looked sheepish all the sudden. "You know. I hadn't the opportunity to ask you much that day. So when I kind of felt like you wanted to leave, I asked that, just to hear you talk a little more.” 

Something in the peridotite began to stir. Turned slack and molten. Izuku closed his eyes to drown it out. "Why did you bring this up anyway?"

"Because I went to the LinkedIn profiles of all of the classmates of yours I could find. And I rang anyone of them stupid enough to post their phone number on the internet. I asked them about you. Most of them couldn't recollect you as their classmate. Even when I physically described you they couldn't. And among the ones that did, not a single one knew what you were doing now. And when I asked them what they did remember about you, all of them said something along the same lines. That you were quiet and drawn into yourself. Didn't hang around any particular people. Didn't show up to parties. That none of them had the opportunity to ever really talk to you in the five years you’ve been there." 

"What's the point of you saying this? Are you just trying to list to me my flaws and shortcomings? To tell me how unremarkable I apparently am?" Izuku asked, resigned. It wasn’t like he could tell Katsuki much about his college mates either. They had made it sound pretty bleak, but in Izuku's recollections, it was even worse. 

It was true that he'd never made any attempts to socialize then. Mostly, he had stayed in his dorm room. To half of his classes he hadn't even shown up. One year of online school had taught him how to deal with the workload by himself, which made revisiting the study material in the comfort of his own room preferable over the effort of showing up in person. In his dorm room, there had only been Iida to fool. Iida who always had his nose stuck in his own books and rarely ever looked over the edge of it during the day. 

Katsuki tensed at his side. "No, I'm saying that I had a different impression tonight. With Kyoka. You guys are friends. Aren't you? It's different from how it's been with your college mates. I'm just glad that it's different." 

No response came to mind for Izuku, so he didn't force one. They kept walking. After a while, Izuku said "What's your brother like?" Surprising himself with it most of all. He hadn't planned on asking. Didn't even know the question had been something he‘d thought about.  

Katsuki waited before he answered, maybe to see if Izuku wouldn't change his mind again. "Kiri is great. A better person than me, that's for sure. He's welcoming and thoughtful. And he has  forgiven me for all of the shitty things I did in our earlier days, which only goes to show what a big heart he has."

It's both a relief and a regret to hear. It leaves a sour note in any case. 

"Things have changed." Izuku said, just to say something. 

"They have."

The question of why Katsuki had cut the contact was there again, at some backdoor in his mind, like an intruder, staking out the place he would soon break into. But for now Izuku refrained from asking it. 

"We should head back" he said, before he could ask something he'd regret. 

It was obvious that Katsuki wanted to say more, but he didn't. Not until he simply uttered a small, quiet "Okay." 

So they turned back. Izuku walking to the station. And Katsuki walking to his car. 

Chapter Text

Izuku didn't much fancy the business dinners that came with his job. He wasn't one for fine dining, didn't like to bother with the codes for dress and conduct or the stiff company. Tonight he would take it in stride. He could tolerate an evening of networking and cozy-ing up with the bosses (his preferred synonym for ass-kissing) if it happened only once or twice a year.
This dinner party was the first one he'd gotten an invite to. It appeared the company only bothered for such things with the permanent hires.
So now that he had finally climbed enough of the corporate ladder to be granted that particular privilege, refusing to come would be received in more than just bad taste.
Whether he wanted to or not, and he really did not, he had to suck it up for one night.

The only ray of hope was that Kyoka got invited, too. Though tonight was Izuku's first business dinner, it wouldn't be her's. She was battle-tested in the arts of corporate groveling, so he could at least find comfort in that he wouldn't be the only one polishing expensive black oxfords with his tongue tonight. Which was, at best, only a small consolation. He let out a defeated sigh that sounded pitiful, even to his own ears.

In passing, Izuku grabbed the tie draped over the back rest of his desk chair and brought it to his mirror. It had taken him some months of focused practice and scurrying through various youtube tutorials, but he had gotten almost good at binding it around his now tall standing collar. By the end of his ministrations, the black fabric sat, if not perfectly, at least perfectly adequately on his lighter shirt, pronounced even more by the contrast.

The suit Izuku had picked was dark by choice. Nothing unusual, nothing that would draw attention, but certainly fashionable enough to do justice to the occasion. Thin vertical stripes stretched over the entire jacket, which became visible only at the second glance.
There was a real chance that the suit qualified as the most stylish item of clothing Izuku owned, and it was definitely the first time that it came to use. He turned the collar down again and walked out of his bedroom.

At last, he made sure to wear his wristwatch, which was always layed out on his hallway dresser just in case but he had so far never picked it up – until today. Perhaps today was the case in said in case.
Most of his colleagues carried family heirlooms on their wrists, spanning both decades and multipe generations, but Izuku's watch was a light, silver thing that he'd bought himself only some years ago with one of his first paychecks back when he had done side job after side job to pay for his college tuition.

Izuku then made to leave his apartment. Outside, the taxi he had called in advance waited for him. He was the only passenger in the backseat, but that would change soon enough. Their next destination was Kyoka's address. The driver, a middle-aged, weathered looking man that hadn't spared Izuku more than a clipped rumble as greeting, set the car into motion. Izuku propped his arm on the window sill and confined himself to looking outside for the duration of the drive. It suited him just right that the driver was not one for conversation. Izuku had no due for smalltalk, either, considering that he'd be havin enough of it at the dinner party.

When emails on the details had come in one after another (Hizashi was a serial email writer, who would have thought), Kyoka and him had discovered that they didn't live too far away from one another.
After that, it went without saying that they'd share a ride together. With a fixed ride, they didn't have to worry about getting robbed in the subway while drunk out of their minds. And alcohol would be flowing tonight, as sure as the tide rising – they were lawyers, after all. No other demographic was better versed in drowning their sorrows in copious amounts of booze.

Neither Izuku nor Kyoka wanted to stir unwanted attention by falling out of the grid with this, at least not so early into their careers. Which meant for them that sometimes you just had to do that, accepting the champagne flutes and joining the cheering without protest or hesitation.

Kyoka's apartment complex came into view. She did not live in such a posh area as Shoto did. If Izuku had to make an estimate, he'd take his own neighborhood and Shoto's neighborhood and set them as two opposite ends of a variable that brandished a decent scope of living situations. On such a scale, Kyoka's place would be that of the average.

It was out of fashion for people of their age to ring the doorbell (way too pushy), so he texted her instead and waited. It didn't take long for the front door to open and for Kyoka to emerge.

On his first glance at her it became clear that her outfit, like his, rose to the occasion. Her dress was black, of course. Again, they were lawyers.
When she passed the streetlamp on her way to the taxi, the light of it hit her dress and the fabric shimmered in muted colors, similar effect to that of an opal. For a moment, Izuku found the sight rather captivating.
The dress's hem reached to slightly above her knees, moderate and completely business appropriate, sure, but it still let on that tonight was more of a celebration rather than just strictly business.

Her blazer though was the real eye catcher. The stuffed shoulders made her look almost scary in the low light. Which was ironic, in a way, as Kyoka always joked about how sinister, soulless and immoral she was. Izuku knew how far from the truth that was, and didn't hesitate from reminding her, but right now, she looked every bit the cunning and sharp-tongued lawyer he knew her to be. Still not 'immoral', she wished she was that cool, but transformed nonetheless.

Apart from captivating, Kyoka also looked like she was cold. Izuku assumed, at least, by the way he shivered just watching her walk to the car. It was the middle of December. And sure enough, by the time she opened the door to the backseat, she was shaking. Lucky for her that the taxi‘s central heating was already on full blast. The car door fell close with a bang behind Kyoka while she settled in next to Izuku.

"Hey, you."

"Hey", he replied in the same low voice she'd used.

Her blazer grazed Izuku's wrist where it was resting in the middle seat between them. When she got another glance at him, she said, "Someone put on a fancy suit."

He shook his head, "You're one to talk."

The car jerked into motion, and Kyoka smiled at him.

"I don't know, I think you win this." She fake squinted at him, "I see those stripes, you know. You clearly went all out tonight."

The clutch she had carried fell into the foot-room of the car, situating right next to her shiny black pumps (or was it high heels? Izuku was never quite sure where the difference lay).

He raised his eye brows demonstratively, "Again, you're one to talk. I've never seen you in a gleaming dress. No, scratch that, actually, I've never seen you in a dress at all."

"That's because we've never gone out on a date." She winked.

"Tonight isn't a date either." He commented, "Unless you want to tell me that you're having a secret affair with one of the higher ups we'll be sweating over tonight?"

"Busted." She laughed, "Say what you want, but you cannot deny that the look Aizawa gave me that one time in the office kitchen wasn't downright sultry."

"For the last time. He didn't look at you in a sultry way, he looked at you appalled, because, and I'm quoting you here, you unsolicitedly asked him 'How do you like these balls, boss?' when referring to the meatballs he was eating. Anyone would have looked at you aghast in that situation."

"You're getting lost in unnecessary details" she waved her hand, "Whatever, doesn't matter anyway, since I didn't buy the dress for a date with Aizawa. It was for someone else." She'd turned serious again.

So he asked, "Your date with whom?"

Kyoka shook her head at him unhurriedly, like Izuku was helplessly slow on the uptake, "Oh you know her. You know her pretty well, actually. She works with us. Dark hair, tall, impeccable style and a body that should be illicit, or at the very least, must have been sculpted by a renegade goddess of sin and temptation. Her name is Mo-"

He cut her off the moment he understood who she was alluding to, "Kyoka what the hell. When was that? And why did you wait to tell me until now?"

She looked at him funny, and clapped back, with perhaps an underlying tone of offense, though Izuku might very well imagine it, "I don't have your number."

"Oh," He chuckled, more caught off guard than amused, "Yeah." That was a quick way to shut him up. His first instinct then was to gloss over this misshapen, which was what he always did. He covered up the cracks and smoothed out the bumps the moment that they occurred, because keeping up the polished appearance was just what he did.
When Katsuki had gone missing, it was the first and only thing he had focused on. When his mom began wondering why Izuku seemed to have such a hard time moving on, why he was still as distraught as ever, even when a year, two, had passed. When he should have long since accepted the terms of new reality. Glossing over and pretending was all he did.
A second later, Izuku thought better of it.

Him and Kyoka were more friends than colleagues, but even then, they were more work friends than actual friends. He had never really hung out with her outside of work, but right now he wondered why he hadn‘t. Why not? What was so bad about making a new friend that wasn’t Ochako or Iida? He wasn't as fragile as he'd been in his teenage years and some time after that. He was an adult now, and he had reigns over his emotion. The past did not affect him as much. It couldn't. So fuck it.

"Here." he said, as he fished out the phone he'd stuffed in his suit's pocket to hand it to her. Kyoka wordlessly took his phone and typed her number into his contacts. He send her a quick text to seal the deal and her phone set off to alert her of that notification. Koyka smiled at him and this was the first time something about her reminded him about Ochako. His two – his two friends, he thought, testing out what he had just concluded, weren't similar by much, but the way she smiled at him now was undeniably … Ochako. Full of unguarded affection.
It was easy going now. Kyoka seemed very relaxed, and leaned back into her seat, "Well then, let's rock the business dinner." She said.

***

"Have a good night." Izuku wished the taxi driver as the man in question, just as Izuku had expected, revved up the engine to drive off without another word. This time, he hadn't even bothered with the humming noise he'd greeted Izuku with earlier.
Izuku watched the car briefly, the headlights gradually getting drowned out by the twilight hour. At the next corner, the car turned and the lights were gone entirely.

He turned back to the building and Kyoka, who was a step ahead, closing in on the restaurant. Overall, the outside of it made a nice impression. The facade was neoclassical, as was the fashion for this part of the Ginza district. The crescendoing darkness of the young night made each of the wide windows pop with the inside's faint golden glow.

As far as Izuku knew, Aizawa had been tasked with choosing the location of the dinner party. Every year a draw was made between the supervisors of the various departments and this year the draw had fallen on their boss, head of the civil law department.
Of course, his decision had fallen on Ginza. The flashy, shiny oversized neighborhood in the Chuo district of Tokyo, that represented everything glamorous about the capital. Anything that was new, luxurious and in trend, found its harbour in Ginza, until the next best big thing came to replace it. A lot of the other lawyers regularly came here for the food and the high end luxury brand stores, but not Kyoka and Izuku.

"So this is how the big shot lawyers have a good time?" Izuku commented humorlessly when entering.

Kyoka quietly laughed next to him, "Yes. It feels almost as if we’re stepping into the middle of one of Monoma's wet dreams."

"God, I hope not. As much as I love the guy, I didn't sign up for an impromptu rimming session with Aizawa."

Now Kyoka laughed not quietly, but full on, "I believe the crux about impromptu events is that they come out of left field. It might just come over you once it happens." She accompanied her words with a suggestive eye brow raise.

Izuku laughed, "Please, you're not going to make me like the idea. So quit the persuasion."

"Too bad," She snorted, "I would have loved your support, but guess I'll have to do it alone now."

"You'll get me next time."

In the entrance, they were greeted by the receptionist, who couldn‘t have been a day older than eighteen by the looks of it. Yet, despite the age thing, he perfectly fit into the picture that the establishment made. As if he was a permanent, locked item in the inventory of the place. Enchanted to, for the rest of his life, stand there behind the counter and subject every incoming person to the same three lines. Greeting them, inquiring about their reservation and wishing them a good night once he had checked their names off in the hefty book opened on the bureau in front of him. Izuku and Kyoka walked past him, and Izuku felt a pang of pity, even if he knew that he had entirely made up that scenario.

In the actual restaurant things looked quite different. It was immediately apparent how much darker it was in these halls than the glimpses he’d gotten from outside had made him believe. A strange effect.

In this room, a long-stretching rectangular one with high ceilings, about one hundred people flitted around, all of them dressed in long black robes and suits. In the first second of entering Izuku had felt like stepping into a moth cave. Anywhere he looked, squadrons of dark silhouettes crowded around the available light sources, facing each other over the glow of the candles. Moths gathered on flourescent mineral veins of the rock, swallowing up the light. Everything was simultaneously in motion and paused.

Izuku couldn't quite fathom what he was seeing. Every one of the present people moved with a lightness and determination that showed that they all knew where their place was. Here. It was right here. This was where they belonged.

Subdued chatter, made loud by it's quantity, brimmed over the room – A buzz of business, dinner and business-dinner talks. Walking past the occupied tables, Izuku caught some of what was being said. There was a lot of "It's nice to have you here" and "Your outfit today is really lovely" and, of course, the gossip. The party was already in full swing. Kyoka and he had planned to spend the evening with the group they sometimes sat with during lunch break at the office, but they were unceremoniously interrupted just as they were walking around the room in search for said group, by none other than their boss.

Aizawa emerged from the mass of the other dark silhouettes like a shadow come to life, not-quite-but-almost jogging towards them.

"Good to see you both here," he said as he reached them and Izuku had to suppress a laugh when he heard, because that was exactly what everyone was hearing tonight. It's so good to have you here. You, of all people.

"Thank you very much boss," Kyoka greeted him politely.

"We wouldn't have missed the chance." Izuku added, albeit not truthfully.

"That's really good, because I was planning on introducing you two to a few people today. Opportunities like this don't come around very often."

Kyoka smiled, eyes creasing, "Now you've made me curious."

She did in fact look curious, so that wasn't a lie. And on top of that she didn't look half as unsettled as Izuku felt.

Aizawa cleared his throat, somehow, even in doing something like that, he managed to preserve a certain sense of elegance, "I think you'll be working with them soon. An evening like today is a first chance to get to know them. Now that you're both permanent employees," he said, looking pointedly at Izuku, "we can plan to use your shared office for new cases that also involve wider areas of the firm, integrate you into the full picture, so to say."

Those were good news. New cases. Probably better cases then too. That all sounded exactly like what Izuku had wanted from this position. The only question that remained was who Aizawa was talking about. Izuku couldn't immediately think of an obvious answer. No one immediately came to mind.

Kyoka shifted, "But before we get to that point, we should get ourselves something from the buffet first and let it work its magic." There was a discernible significant emphasis that indicated that with something, she meant something alcoholic.

Aizawa's face turned understanding, "Of course. Don't let me keep you.”

So they got their drinks first, thanks to Koyka's last minute thinking.

"What do you think," Kyoka leaned closer to the sign she read, "red repentance tastes like?"

"If it's as tasty as it sounds appealing, then it can't be very good," he admitted, "I've never thought of repentance as red. That somehow doesn't feel right."

"No it doesn't, you're right." she shook her head.

The worst thing about the cocktails was that they looked even more inexplicable than their names sounded. All strikingly colorful, they didn't let on about the contents in the slightest. Even the shape of them didn‘t give any hints, because all were poured in the same identical, oddly shaped, strangely elongated glasses. Izuku couldn't get behind the fashion. Was it supposed to feel like they were drinking out of pocket sized bongs?

Finally, Kyoka said, "I'm in the mood for blue, what about you? Are you feeling blue?"

"I'm feeling blue." Izuku confirmed.

So blue it was. They each grabbed a blue cocktail, not caring to read its name and they downed in at the same time. A second later Izuku was blindsided by a memory the taste had triggered.

In the autumn following his eighteenth birthday, Izuku had gotten himself a one day train ticket with the money he'd been gifted. He'd wanted to ... he'd wanted to escape his hometown, if just for a day. Just something to get him out of the dump. He'd rode the train for as long as felt necessary to him, not with a particular stop in mind.
At the end, this had brought him to the southern coastlines of Ibaraki prefecture.

The entire late morning of the day, Izuku had spent by walking barefoot along the seaside, the water already too cold to go for a swim, the beach deserted so late into the year.

The base for the drink had to be vodka.

In the afternoon of that day, he'd managed to acquire a bottle of cheap vodka at one of the local beach kiosks without being asked for an ID, which had cost him the last scraps of the birthday money.
Izuku had drunk the bottle over the course of the weekend, even after he'd long since gone home.

"Tastes like seabreeze." Kyoka said in that moment and it brought Izuku out of his momentary reverie.

How fitting, he thought, and forced himself to chuckle in response.

They each took a second cocktail from the trays, just to have something at hand to make them look busy. If someone came up to them now, to wrap them up in a conversation neither of them was feeling up to, they could just raise their glasses and pretend to be insufferably thirsty, throat too dry to hold a chat.
It was a shame really that Aizawa had already gotten to them before they'd come up with the idea.

They stood around the buffet for a little longer. Neither of them quite ready for what was to follow. The buffet made a good vantage point for the happenings in the room, without in turn looking too conspicious yourself.

They could spot Monoma easily in the crown from there. He was standing with, who else could it have been, Kendo a little toward the middle of the hall. You really had to give it to them. They were hiding their secret relationship really well tonight. They stood far apart and there was a noticeably icy atmosphere wafting off of them. On a second thought, maybe they've had an argument before coming here. Izuku was just about to tell Kyoka so they could puzzle it out together, when she said with grin, "I'm a little jealous of you, actually."

Izuku was surprised, "And why would that be?"

Kyoka shrugged, "Well, you've been a permanent hire for two weeks and the bosses are already throwing such a fuss over you."

"You're here, too, though. You don't have any reason to be jealous." Izuku didn't understand what she was alluding to. If anything, it was a bad sign that he was only invited to one of these events now, six months after his first employment.

"Yeah, cause I've been in it for some months longer than you." She gave him a poignant look, cheeks slightly blushing from the cocktail that she had downed and the small sips she regularly took from her second one, "You've really made an impression on them, you know. With the case. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here so soon, believe me."

Izuku could feel the tips of his ears lighting up. Which for him always meant he had to change the subject quickly. Unfortunately, it also meant resorting to the first thing that seemed off-topic to him at that moment, so he steered the conversation toward the only mood killer he could think of.

"How about we meet up with Aizawa now?"

"Eh, yeah sure." Kyoka said, and gave him an odd look that he tried his best to ignore.

So they looked for Aizawa and Aizawa they found. Hizashi, never one to stray too far from their head of department, just naturally stood out with his corn blond hair, allowing them to spott not only him, but Aizawa, who stood two steps to his right, too.

Izuku turned to Kyoka, "They're over there, come."

Their two bosses stood, with their backs turned to them, in a little group at one of the set high tables. One gap spread in between the man which was just big enough for Kyoka and him to sneak in, so they did. At the table came the real surprise.
The other people in the gathering were none other than the Big Three. A moniker given to the three most exceptional rising talents their chancellory had to offer, considering each of them packed a one to two year Mirai Sasai legal fellowship on top of their work at U.A. law firm. They were legends.

Kyoka and Izuku shared a look. There was at least as much awe in her gaze as must be in his, and Izuku didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing. As if they had agreed on it, they both took a sip from their cocktails at the same time. After, they put their glasses on the table, the sound of it rattling their company. All eyes turned to them.

"Oh, we were just talking about you." Aizawa hummed.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Mirio said, a lawyer that had specialized in family law. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Rumor had it that he was cheerful of nature. Brilliant at his work, with the promise of doing even better in the coming time, once his career fully began to take off.

At his two sides stood Tamaki Amajiki and Nejire Hado. Both of them equally as talented, albeit they supposedly differed strongly in their personalities. While Tamaki stayed mostly silent when working on cases, seeking distance whenever possible, Nejire was open and approachable, or, more often than not, approaching. All in all, they were impressive characters. Which did not make this any easier for Izuku in the slightest. Being here in the same room as them, attending the same business dinner, telling himself that he had the same right to it.

It was bordering on insane to think that Aizawa wanted to introduce them to Kyoka and him, two rookie lawyers not even in the fledgeling stage of their careers. Both with a combined number of exactly zero Mirai Sasai fellowships under their belts.

Kyoka and him still somehow managed to survive the introductions. Being drunk helped with that probably more than anything else. Aizawa was the mediator. He told them about what cases Mirio, Tamaki and Nejire were currently working on, and Kyoka and Izuku reacted to that with the exact right amount of rotatory awe and nonchalance.

Then Aizawa began reciting the details on the case that Kyoka and Izuku were knees deep in right now, which to the Big Three must have sounded far less impressive than what they usually handled, but all three seemed nonetheless interested.

"Here, have some of the appetizers they brought." Hizashi said, once the obligatory work talk was over.

"What exactly are these?" Kyoka asked.

"They're Yuba rolls with different vegetable fillings. I was so happy to try them, because I saw people talk about them on Instagram all the time." Nejire said.

"Oh really?" Kyoka said, before putting one of them in her mouth.

"We can be glad the food is so delicious." Hizashi said, which prompted him a few confused looks, to which he explained grinning, "Can you believe that when Aizawa selected this restaurant, he didn't pay attention to the menu?"

"Aizawa-san, what did you pay attention to?" Mirio asked.

Aizawa scowled. "It's not like I didn't pay attention to the menu. But that's hardly the most important thing. Every restaurant has the same basic meals. The difference lies in the way that they prepare the food. The taste is what is most important. I chose this restaurant because it has three Michelin Stars."

"It's reasonable to go off of that." Izuku said, feeling inclined to support Aizawa. Which earned him a grateful look from Aizawa in turn.

"Oh I don't know. Isn't that like a popularity vote?" Hizashi teased, "You totally picked this restaurant because it's popular. It's en vogue."

Before they could find out how Aizawa would react to the tease, something unexpected happened. Tamaki spoke up, "I've already been here a couple of times. This restaurant has a great selection of seasonal seafood dishes. I especially like the miso clam broth."

Not just Izuku seemed surprised. Mirio exchanged a short look with Tamaki. They smile they shared after could almost count as tender.

Things moved faster after that. Every few minutes, waiters would come by with trays full of aperitifs and appetizers. Izuku couldn't  for the life of him say what was in them, but they all looked absolutely delicious and offered him a welcome excuse to pause his participation in the conversation. Everyone could understand if you didn't want to talk with your mouth full.

Sometime in, the music, which Izuku hadn't really noticed until that point, picked up in volume. They held pleasant dinner conversation. Hizashi was doing most of the work of course, being amazingly talkative and all, and Izuku had never been more grateful for that. He wrapped all of them up in his chatter so much that Izuku didn't have time left to wonder if he was engaging enough.

This way, Izuku found out that Mirio, Nejire and Tamaki have been friends since the days their fellowships overlapped. They still went out for brunch every couple of weeks with their fellowship mentor.
Nejire also had the same talent as Kyoka for making inappropriate comments every so often. And when she found out that Kyoka was interested in Rock music and played parttime in a semi professional band outside of work, she was instantly hooked and wanted to know everything about it all at once, hogging Kyoka with question after question.

The conversation quieted whenever one of the event speakers made an announcement. Most of it was the law firm patting its own shoulder, like the statistics guy reciting the numbers of the working year. Etcetera etcetera, Izuku listened to it with half an ear. But everything considered, these moments were sparse.

Without Izuku noticing, he slowly began to settle into the situation. Somewhere between the introductions and right now, this random group of seven people turned into a small, harmonious party. Yes, there were still two of his bosses present at the table, and the other three people, who he met in person for the first time only today, were no less impressive, but somehow it fit. Things were working themselves out. You could see that the Big Three got on well with Hizashi and Aizawa, just like Kyoka and Izuku. Apart from the fact that Kyoka occasionally said things around Aizawa that come out not always in the way she had intended, Izuku knew how fond Aizawa and Hizashi both were of her.

Nejire made lots of jokes that had Hizashi laugh louder than anyone else. Mirio was a perfect buffer between Aizawa and Hizashi, making sure that Hizashi's taunts never crossed the line into unprofessional, because he cushioned each of the jokes with his own follow up comments. That was almost funnier to watch than hearing the jokes themselves, because if Mirio knew about the two of them, he wouldn't have to put in so much effort to be jovial. And, though Tamaki was comparatively the quietest of them all, he, too, had a positive effect on the group. If it wasn't clear that he was even less inept at social gatherings than Izuku, Izuku wouldn't know how he would be standing here at the table with them. He would probably still be far too intimidated by any of them to be of real use. Wouldn't be able to see beyond the line that existed between him and the Big Three.

But out of everyone at the table, he still felt the closest bond with Kyoka. Their talk was as constant as the refilling of their glasses by the the by-walking waiters.

At some point they all really were drunk. Whatever Izuku had imagined for his first business dinner party, it wasn't this. That he was halfway to getting as hammered as he did in college, in the rare moments when he went out with Ochako and Iida. But it didn't scare him, and he knew that that should unsettle him. Unfortunately, he was already two glasses of red forgiveness past that point. Or was it repentance? Everything will probably be fine. The warm feeling in his chest, which had crept in thanks to the alcohol, told him that. Which then again might not have been the must trust worthy source, but he had already mentioned the two glasses of red repentances, hadn't he?

It was so late now that Aizawa's voice, which sounded perpetually tired and suave, nay, sensual in a way that didn‘t belong in the chancellory, let alone broad daylight, finally (for the first time) did not feel out of place anymore.

Nejire was the first to start getting lax. She whispered quiet, irrelevant things to Mirio and Tamaki, which soon became louder and louder.

"This place is so fancy," Nejire whispered into Mirio's ear, or at least she tried, for reality was that every one at the table could hear her. "They have the chairs."

"What chairs?" Mirio laughed.

"The kind that reinvents what the word chair means. The kind that makes you think maybe chairs never have been intended to be sat on originally, and that their purpose first and foremost has always been to be art."

She was imposingly eloquent for being drunk. Izuku wouldn't believe it if he hadn't been here for the last two rounds.

Everything was going well, until it suddenly wasn't. Until nothing was okay anymore.

Another waiter had made it to their table, and Izuku noticed his coming first. In approach, he recognized exactly who was making their way over to them.

Katsuki.

Now, what the fuck was Katsuki doing here at his companies end of year celebration?

Katsuki and him locked eyes over the candle decorations. Izuku turned three notches more sober in an instant. Katsuki's mask of the pleasant server slipped from his face like a wet egg and left an awkward expression in its place. At least his shock meant that this wasn't planned by him.

The others became aware of Katsuki’s presence a moment later.

"Oh, perfect timing. I was beginning to crave more of those god-sent appetizers." Hizashi exclaimed.

It brought Katsuki out of his reveries. He held the tray out toward Hizashi and said, "Here, Sir, have another."

Kyoka's auditive memory must have been exceptionally sharp, for she turned around at the sound of Katsuki's voice. A smile spread over her face when she saw him.

"Katsuki?" She asked, pleasantly surprised.

Katsuki faced her. "Hey, Kyoka." he said.

"Oh my god. I didn't realize we were at your work place." Kyoka laughed, before turning back to Izuku, "Why didn't you say anything, Izuku?"

All of his colleagues fixed on him, all confused at what was going on, he could tell. Izuku swallowed painfully. Fuck. fuck, his mind was cloudy from the alcohol. He wasn't at his wits enough to come up with a believable lie.

"Uhm, I didn't realize until now." He said, trying hard not to fidget. His only idea was to point at Katsuki to explain, "Katsuki and I are friends."
The words burned in his throat more than any of the cocktails had done. Made his air pipe tighter.

"Funny coincidence." Mirio replied lightly.

"Yeah."

"Say, who prepared all of the food they're supplying us with?" Hizashi exclaimed.

"All the servers you saw tonight did. Chef BJ gave all of the usual serving staff the evening off, because on events like these, it's more important for the kitchen employees to show face."

"Really?" Hizashi said, unbelieving, "well in that case I guess this means I shall express my gratitude over the food to you, no?"

"You could say that. However, it was a team effort." Katsuki said, with a humility Izuku didn't recognize.

"In that case you can tell your colleagues good job. This was nice. Way more than just nice, really," Hizashi said, in a way that showed he himself even couldn't quite believe how convicted he was, "Like, I've eaten well in my life before, but this was truly something else."

Aizawa snapped his gaze to the blonde. Izuku was confused, but then his boss broke out into a sly smile. "Dare I say-" he began, and Aizawa looked about as if he was ready to rip Hizashi's head off, but Hizashi finished unperturbed "It went above and beyond. It was Plus Ultra."

One second passed. And then Mirio and Nejire both broke out into laughter. So did Hizashi, spoured on by the positive reaction. Jirou and Izuku shared one glance, strained on her part, and incredulous on Izuku's.

"I'm inclined to agree." Tamaki now said, "I already wanted to give my compliments the last time I was here, but I didn't really have the courage." He finished, and by the end of his sentence, his voice had gotten a lot smaller than how it'd started out.

While Katsuki held up the conversation with the two men, Izuku couldn't take his eyes off him. Katsuki was wearing a black server's uniform, not the white cooking uniform Izuku had pictured him in. It still suited him unfairly well.

In speaking, Katsuki put the tray on the table, which meant that the desserts on it were free real estate to the six hungry and oblivious lawyers around him. One by one, Izuku watched them each take a dessert for themselves and begin eating.

When Tamaki took a bite, he said, "This is really good. What is it?"

Katsuki began explaining the dish and Izuku was too unnerved to listen to it. Couldn't claim to care, either.

"Oh, so you put persimmon in there?"

"Exactly." Katsuki answered, eyes narrowing, "Are you interested in cooking?" Izuku remembered that look. That was Katsuki's actual interest showing. When he had just discovered evidence of prowess in others around him, he always honed in on them sharply.

Tamaki flushed, the tips of his ears turning bright fuchsia. "Oh, I-" he stuttered, "No, I, I'm not. I'm just intrested in, uhm, the eating part." He was clearly not doing well with the undivided, focused attention. Izuku felt him on that.

"He loves eating out." Mirio went to his aid, and thank god he added "He's been at many different restaurants to try their menu." Not a second later, because Jirou would have not been able to handle it. In his periphery, Izuku saw her desperately try to hold in her impending outburst.
Maybe this Freudian Slip will soak her into another conspiracy theory about the two of them secretely hooking up. Katsuki looked unaffected, as if he hadn’t at all noticed the ill wording.

Despite Tamaki's nervousness, he was able to adjust to Katsuki's scrutiny rather quickly. Something about Katsuki's presence seemed to at the same time spur a calmer and more stable side to Tamaki on.
Suddenly, now that the topic of conversation had turned to food, he was really coming out of himself.

Mirio, at his side, sensing that effect, was eager to persuade Katsuki to join their little party, "Oh, can you not stay here a little longer" He asked.
Until two seconds ago, Izuku had been quite fond of him. Now, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Izuku didn't know if Katsuki planned on refusing, but even if he wanted him to, Katsuki shouldn't. That would only make Jirou suspicious.

Katsuki cleared his throat, but managed to make it sound more like pleasant surprise than discomfort, "Sure. Thanks."

"So you call your boss BJ?" Kyoka asked, which had everyone chuckling. Hizashi most of all.

Katsuki smiled "Yes. It's a nickname we use between us colleagues. Our chef spent some time in a Michelin stared restaurant in Germany that specialized on all forms of game meat. Cooks like that are informally called "Jäger" over there, so we refer to our chef as best Jäger, essentially. It only stuck, because BJ came back from his time in Germany and swore off most forms of meat entirely. Now it's just ironic. For more than one reason." That last part he added with a wink.

Nejire said, "Oh, it's the same way that we call Aizawa workplace-daddy sometimes."

Aizawa was mortified, his cheeks colored in slightly, which was a novelty, really. In that moment none of them knew whether it was the alcohol or the embarrassment, so seeing that, the party laughed anew, all except Izuku. He just pretended to.

"Don't be crass. Nobody at the chancellery calls me that."

"Not when you're present, that's true." Nejire deadpanned, which had Hizashi laugh even harder.

Izuku's leg began shaking below the table. He was tense. The lightness of earlier had evaporated like the liquid nitrogen they had served with the last rounds of drinks. Katsuki’s presence was throwing him for a loop, was causing all sorts of miscalculations in the statistical programs he’d mentally run through for how this night was supposed to go. This scenario had been nowhere near what he had considered possible.

"So I've introduced myself, but I don't know any of your names. Except, of course, yours Jirou" Katsuki said to her. She smiled, flattered by the special mention.

One by one, Izuku's colleagues and bosses all began introducing themselves to him.

Katsuki nodded, "And what exactly is the occasion for the celebration?"

"Well, the company is throwing a dinner party for the successful finish of the work year.", Hizashi made a hand gesture that encased all of them, "We're celebrating the progress we've made on our most recent case."

"Can I ask what they're about, or is that confidential?" Katsuki asked hesitantly.

"No, that should be fine. As long as we don't say the names or similar personal details." Kyoka explained to him, throwing a side glance at their bosses, just to check. They did not interfere, so she continued laying out their case in short "It's a complicated custody story. A little boy caught in a crossfire of the very nasty divorce of some very negligent parents. Not the first time we've handled one of these, unfortunately."

Katsuki took it all in, and threw minute glances at Izuku once every while that Izuku pretended to ignore, but took notice off nonetheless.

"Great work. Important work." Katsuki said, eventually. "I mean it. What you're doing is invaluable. Let me organize you another dessert. A house specialty that isn't originally on the menu tonight."

"Oh well, I won't say no to that." Hizashi accepted gracefully, not the type for fake qualms. Turning to Izuku, his boss said "You've got a good friend, Izuku. Keep him!" and his laughter came through toward the end.

Izuku nodded, smiled and mumbled a yes, because he was currently not capeable of more.

"Great" Katsuki said, with a last glance at Izuku. They all thanked him, and so did Izuku, but he had a hard time covering up his angry tone, so it came out far more loaded than he had meant. Meant to reveal, at least.

Katsuki left them then. Izuku used the time while he was gone to collect himself. He couldn’t let this go on. Whatever Katsuki planned on doing, it had to stop here.
A couple of minutes later, Katsuki reappeared, surprisingly swiftly, with a waiter in tow. Katsuki and the waiter both carried a tablet full of a dessert, which they began placing down on the table, one in front of each of them. Izuku did not give him the time to explain what it was.

He spoke up, "I think I'll have to go to the toilet. Katsuki, would you be so kind and show me the way?" Again, he did not wait for Katsuki to confirm, but instead grabbed him by the fabric around his elbow and walked on.

It occurred to him while he was walking on, with the sole thought of just getting away from his colleagues as far as possible, that he really did not know the way to the toilets. It was therefore necessary to let go of Katsuki again. He did.
A second later, Katsuki had caught up to him in step, silently leading the way to the toilets.

When they reached the door, Izuku allowed himself to unleash the fury he had suppressed the entire time they were standing with his two bosses. Safe to say, he was livid now.

"Must you torture me like this?" He pushed the words out first thing when the door fell into its hinges behind them and they were finally alone.

Katsuki had the audacity to ask, "What do you mean?"

If Izuku hadn't been so mad, he would laugh about how ridiculous that question was. The comedy of it. "Talk like that in front of my bosses and colleagues? You've embarassed me." He dragged one hand through his never ruly hair in agitation. One day, he'd really have to put down that habbit, but he always tapped into it under stress.

"This whole thing is already hard enough on its own. And you're not helping with this, whatever spiel or secret agenda you're pursuing. The whole pretending like we're friends has limits, you know."

Katsuki leaned back against the sink, gaze unwavering despite what Izuku had said, "I know. It wasn't my intention to take advantage of your generosity of last time."

"Then what was that with the special desserts? If exploiting my kindness really wasn't your intention, then let me give you a tip: I don't need you trying to impress my bosses. This was completely inapropriate of you. You overstepped." Izuku was on a roll, "Of course I can't blame Kyoka for reacting the way she did. I asked you to fool her, so it really is my fault that she believed in the lie so much, but you, Katsuki, you know better." Izuku's voice was freezing, as if it had cooled down on the ice cubes that were served with the cocktails, of which he'd had too many of.

Katsuki took a step forward. As if contrarily spured on by Izuku's disapproval, "You're right. I am sorry." he tried to reach out, to do whatever, Izuku couldn't tell, but whatever it was, he wasn't going to let it happen in any case. He stepped back, leaving Katsuki's hand awkwardly hovering in the air in suspense.

"Not enough." Izuku said, "See, 'cause I don't understand how it came to this now. What got in your head to think that it would be appropriate of you to mingle with my coworkes, meddle with my affairs. I thought, until now, that I had been clear in this, but it seems that I have to repeat myself. Even more clearly. I want you to understand that this will not happen again. You and me. We will not become friends again. There is not a single thing in the world that I would less want to happen. You are the last person on this planet that I want in my life again. If you cannot respect the terms of our agreement, we should reconsider it."

Katsuki stayed silent. Izuku felt merciful enough to spare him from forcing an answer. While it hadn't been his intention to hurt Katsuki, he had been aware of the possibility, and now it seemed like it had actually come true. What else was supposed to happen when Izuku threw punches without pulling them?

He turned off him, and was about to get back to the main hall to find Jirou, but something held him back at the last moment. A hand, Katsuki's hand, wrapped around his wrist, and dragged him back to where he had been standing and then some. Izuku had to concentrate not to lose his step, the hand around his scorching and successfully burning away all of his effective thoughts. He did not know what Katsuki's deal was, but whatever it was, he only had a limited ability to tolerate it.

"What?" he snapped.

Katsuki's hand let go off his then, only to appear right next to his head a moment later. Katsuki was doing this again, caging him. Katsuki's expression settled into seriousness, his mouth drew into a thin line, "I accept the terms. You ask questions, I'll answer. Nothing more."

Somehow, Izuku's heart thought it the right moment to fall completely out of tact. It was beating out of sync with the rest of his system, which caused Izuku to concentrate on that entirely, and not on pushing Katsuki back, physically, or at the very least, with his words.

At last, Izuku said, "Regardless, I don't think we should see each other again any time soon. No matter what you say, the Christmas market seems to have given you a faulty idea. Time apart will help to get your head straight."

"Sure." Katsuki said, and there was something that made Izuku think he doubted it. Yet his words had a finality that Izuku's words had lacked. He realized it only now.

Something moved in his periphery, Katsuki's hand curled, forcing the knuckles to protude. Then Katsuki said, "And I wasn't trying to mingle in your life, but I recognize that I crossed a boundary. That won't happen again, you have my word. I'm sorry. For causing you trouble."

"You should be." Izuku averted his gaze. Katsuki was still staring at him right ahead. Like he had no sense of shame or personal spheres and when he was invading them. Brute.

"The next time it happens, I'll wait for you to ask me first."

Izuku's breath stuttered. Katsuki was – he was unbelievable. The next time? There wouldn't be a 'next time'.

"You'll wait until you're gray." Izuku scoffed, returning his gaze once more.

Katsuki leaned closer, it was a minimal difference, almost imperceptile, and yet, Izuku couldn’t  tell what caused the change, but the air felt different in an instant. Charged. Thick. Heated. It became harder to breathe. And that was the tipping point. With that, Izuku finally found it in himself to brush past Katsuki and exit the bathroom. This time, Katsuki did not try to stop him.

When he rejoined his colleagues, they asked him where Katsuki was, and Izuku lied that Katsuki had been called back into the kitchen. For the remainder of the evening, Katsuki left them alone, was the ghost that Izuku had thought him to be for the last decade.

Chapter Text

Since the business party, contact between Katsuki and him had been sparse. Or more so, the two of them had not talked at all. Which was okay, because that was what Izuku had told Katsuki, after all. That he’d needed some time apart. So that for once, Izuku could worry about things that weren't and had nothing to do with his former childhood friend turned runaway.

Katsuki had occupied the pole position for Izuku's worries for more than the last decade. You'll forgive Izuku then, that he thought it was well past time for a change.

A change that the holidays would bring. Christmas was fast approaching. To be more specific, it was beginning the evening of this very day. Before the night broke, Izuku had to get on his way to his hometown, like he'd promised his mother many weeks ago.

The last time they'd seen each other seemed like an eternity away to him now. So much had happened in the mean time. Stuff that he hadn't told her about. Fronting them all, Katsuki. And his return to the living. Izuku hadn't known how to break the news to his mom. At least not without her thinking him crazy again.
There was no concrete proof, after all. No video, no photo, no – strand of hair, whatever, any physical thing he could use to show her, really. Izuku only had his own word and memories. It's not like Inko had shown much trust in these two things in the past.
He couldn't fault his mom, of course, since in hindsight, Izuku really had been mental in the past. All the times he'd thought to have seen Katsuki again in their little villlage, when in reality, Katsuki was more than one hundred kilometers away in Tokyo. Mental. Mental and desperate.

Still, that was precisely the reason for why he hadn't come up with a foolproof plan to tell her, yet. Whatever it was that he would eventually do about it, Izuku allowed himself not to think about it until he had safely made the drive back to his hometown. Crossing bridges when getting there, and the likes. He was practicing that.

So, you'll see now why it was really stupid that when he wanted to drive off this morning straight after breakfast, he discovered that, while his car still permitted him to start it, it then immediately turned off again on its own accord. Way before Izuku had time to press the gas pedal. The tank was not to blame. Izuku checked that first. The indicator for gas was lit up all the way. And that was about the point to which his expertise on cars went. With nothing left to do, Izuku got out of the car and called a tow truck service that would take him to the nearest repair shop.

Just great. Just his luck. Yesterday when he had driven to work, the car had worked just fine. Admittedly, there had been that sound … but all cars make all sorts of noises all the time. How was Izuku supposed to know that the noise he'd heard in particular was one of the bad ones? How do you possibly differentiate them as the layman?

The tow truck ate away two hours out of his tight schedule. Things got even worse when the mechanic took just one look under the hood and promptly explained that in the best case scenario, a repair would take at least the whole day. Maybe more, but he couldn't say for sure until the evening. And if the car wasn't ready by the evening, it would definitely not get ready over the holidays. For Izuku, that meant that Christmas at home was definitely canceled.

This left him with only one option: to wait, hope and see. Which was exactly what he did. He didn't want to cancel on his mother, but it looked like that was going to happen by the end of the day. You only had to look at his living room clock, which was turning as serenely as ever, as well as his cell phone, which decidedly didn't notify him of any missed calls, and you could already imagine how the evening would turn out.

It was getting later. And later. Izuku's phone remained silent. The mechanic still didn't give the green light. So Izuku finally pulled himself together and made a few calls.

First, he called Ochako. She answered after the third ring.

"Happy Christmas."

"Ah, ah. That's not quite true, yet."

"Then happy Christmas Eve," Izuku corrected, "But it looks like Christmas is more accurate after all, since my Christmas Eve is a washout."

There were noises on the other end of the line that he couldn't immediately identify. It sounded most like Ochako had sat down on a chair. "What do you mean, Izu?"

He exhaled slightly, "I was at the repair shop this morning. The car apparently decided to give up its service today. It wasn't quite looking as forward to the trip to Ibaraki as I was, probably."

"I told you there was something wrong with the Passat. You should have had it checked when we did the Hitachi Seaside Trip." Ochako sounded both sympathetic and reprimanding, which caused Izuku to react in the same fashion. He felt an urge to either defend himself or thank her.

He went for a mixture of both. A slightly petulant concession. Technically, he was well past the age for that. "Hindsight breeds foresight. Something something the chicken and the egg, you know."

Ochako moved and the chair made a creaking sound. She answered a little delayed, "Oh, Izu. I wish I could drive you, but …" she went silent for a second, "the wedding."

"Yes, obviously." Absently, Izuku pinched the bridge of his nose, "I understand that, don't worry. I would never ask you for that."

Ochako had a lot on her plate at the moment, with the wedding and all. Her and Iida had come to the agreement that she would manage as much of the wedding business as was possible for her, and later, he would fill in the gaps. Pick up what had fallen through the grid. Around the holidays, things were always getting busy at the hospital, and not in a good way. Apparently, the number of accidents that occurred correlated with the amount of festive decorations hanging in the city. Also, Iida's med school exams were coming up soon. The first year of his residency was almost over.
It's not the first time that Izuku had thought that the two of them have chosen the worst possible time for a wedding.

"But you could. Always. Just not today. Man, shit." She explained. It was audible that she meant every word she said, as was.

"It's all good Ochako, really," he said, "And you know what? I probably won't be able to visit my mother for a few days, but as soon as the car is running again and I get back from her, I'll help you with the planning and organizing. Then you won't have to do everything on your own."

"You have so much going on at work right now. I couldn't ask that of you, and neither will I accept you offering."

"Let me be the one to worry about that. I accepted your proposal of being your best man, didn't I? That means taking on certain responsibilities. That is, lending a helping hand to the struggling bride. When you're in distress, I'm there. That's how it works."

"Oh, Izuku. You’re the best best man. I can't tell you how much that means to me." She sounded a bit like she was going to start crying soon. So Izuku put on a calming tone fast.

"Don't thank me for something that every best man would do. Let alone every best friend should."

When they hung up, Izuku felt none the wiser. He hadn't planned on asking Ochako to drive him, but had known of there being a slim chance that Iida and her were driving home for the holidays, too. Now he'd confirmed that Christmas was off for good. And on top of that, he'd just gotten a reminder that he wasn't taking his best man responsibilities serious enough. All in all, he was not a fan of today.

Late in the afternoon, Izuku had at that point confined himself to lazing on his couch, he received an unexpected call himself. The display lit up with Shoto's name and the same picture he used for his social media profiles. He'd set that up when the two of them had still 'dated'. At the beginning of it, Izuku had asked Shoto for a personal picture, and was sent this one. With the reasoning that Shoto never took pictures of himself and this was actually his latest one. Knowing Shoto, Izuku had no doubt about that. They hadn't spoken to each other for a while. Izuku put the receiver to his ear and answered.

"Hi Shoto, how are you?"

Shoto's voice came out of the speaker as pleasantly neutral as Izuku remembered it. Like a gentle spring day, no nasty surprises. "Izuku. I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas."

"Isn't it a little early for that?" Izuku found himself repeating the phrase Ochako had hit him with earlier.

"Better to do it now before I forget it later."

"I suppose that's true. Merry Christmas to you as well." Izuku pushed further into the couch pillows. There was a mold right between his shoulder blades he was trying to wedge himself into, while Shoto cleared his throat and thanked him.

"I hope it's okay that I called. I just wanted to check in, I know we haven't talked in some time." At the end, Shoto’s voice tapered off. And Izuku realized that this was what Shoto sounded like when he was nervous. A small smile crept on his face and he was glad that the other couldn't see him like this, lest he'd think Izuku was trying to make fun of him, when in fact, nothing could be shorter of the truth.

"Of course you can call, Shoto. It's totally okay. We're friends, aren't we? And if you forgave me that I ghosted you for some time, I'd like for us to be close again, too."

When Shoto talked again, he sounded infinitely more relaxed, back in his element, "Don't worry about that. You've explained it all, it's water under the bridge." A small pause followed, "So, anyway, do you have any plans for the evening?"

Inside his chest, Izuku could feel the disappointment squirm. He made sure to filter it out of his voice as best as he could when he said, "Yeah, no, car broke down. Initially I wanted to visit my mum, but it seems that it wont happen anymore."

"I'd drive you if I could, but this is possibly the first year in a decade that I've actually made plans for the holidays."

"No, Shoto, it's okay. It would never occur to me to ask. What are your plans?" Izuku sputtered out. Two people had now said this to him. Did they both really think he was the type to ask someone for a favor this big? At best, it was a little concerning. At worst, he had to seriously question whether he came across as a free loader.

"I'm spending Christmas Eve with my mum this year."

Oh, Shoto's mum. Shoto had never talked about his mother, while they had dated. Considering the complicated relationship Shoto had to his father, Izuku only guessed that the one to his mother could be of similar nature. But to ask him about this right now on the phone? Izuku wasn't to sure if that was the right call.

Instead, he asked, "Cool, how are you going to celebrate?"

There was the sound of tapping a keyboard in the background. It was quite possible that Shoto had called Izuku from his office. If anyone that Izuku knew was the type to work on the afternoon of a holiday, it would be Shoto, "We're dining out. My siblings are coming as well."

"Have fun, will you?"

Shoto should allow himself a break. And later, when Christmas was over, Izuku would remember to ask Shoto about this. It was the least he could do. After the last time they had talked, and Shoto had opened up to him about his family situation, Izuku felt connected to him in a way in which they just hadn't been before.
They were friends now, bound by an understanding of one another that seldomly came your way. Still, that wasn't quite just it. Shoto was nice. Throughout all of what had gone down, Shoto had been just so nice and considerate of Izuku, he couldn't have imagined. Someone like that, a dear friend, deserved for his efforts to be reciprocated. Izuku wanted to reciprocate the effort.

"Thanks, Izuku." Shoto's voice came humming over the line. Further away than before. He might be on speakerphone now while Shoto was engrossed in work.

Izuku had expected for them to end the call here, but then Shoto said, "You know who could drive you?"

It took Izuku a second to ask, "Who?"

"Katsuki."

"Uh, what?"

It's quite possible that Izuku was imagining it, but Shoto sounded a little less sure of himself when he said the next thing, "Yeah. He doesn't have any plans for the holidays. He never does."

That was a startling revelation. How come Katsuki didn't have plans? Izuku remembered a time when years ago, they would celebrate Christmas with Inko, and all had a good time together. Katsuki had never said it to them, of course, but just the fact that he continued to come over each year had shown them that he'd enjoyed celebrating the holidays with them. Did that change for Katsuki over the years? Or could it really be that he just did not really like Christmas to begin with?

Izuku shook his head, more to himself than to Shoto, as Shoto couldn't see him, before he said, "He can't drive me."

"Why not?"

"Things are still weird between us. I wouldn't ask a friend for that much, and Katsuki and I aren't even that. We used to be." Izuku had no idea what to make of their relationshop now. What came after estranged friends, where one didn't really like the other, while the other didn't really care for the former? Something worse than adversaries.

Shoto sounded as if he was in thought, "Even if that is true, I know that he would still gladly do you the favor."

Izuku breathed out once, measured and controlled, nothing like how he felt, "I can't accept it either way." How could he explain to Shoto that he could never accept this favor, not after the last time he'd talked to Katsuki, only to make a fool of him? Izuku was by no means a proud man, but even the little esteem he harbored for himself wouldn't allow for that. For him to not stand his business, or be hot and cold to someone. That wasn't his nature.

They ended the call not much later, which set Izuku back to the beginning. Back to his own dark, silent apartment, the rest of the whole evening still spread far ahead of him. He'd have to call his mum next to tell her that he wasn't going to make it tonight. There was little he could imagine he would want to do less now.

The day was full of surprises. Izuku did make that call with his mom and explained to her that he would have to visit her the next day by train. This way, he would be back quicker too, to help Ochako out with the wedding planning.
After that, Izuku had actually laid down. Not just on his couch, but his actual bed. He'd gotten unready in his bathroom and went straight to there. The final stop on the list of all the places in his apartment that he could draw back into.

What else had there been left to do? Izuku hadn't felt like being awake anymore. Hadn't wanted to witness any more of the day, had wanted for the sun to come down and for Christmas Eve to pass and take with it the dull ache of disappointment he felt.

Those had been his plans. The ring of the doorbell had torn a big hole right through them, because nothing seemed to work out for him today. Reluctantly, he'd heaved himself up from his bed to walk to the door, planning to call out whoever it was that was disturbing his peace so late. And on Christmas Eve, for that matter.

Only that when he answered the door, he was met by the sight of Katsuki. The residual sleep dripped off of Izuku in a second, like getting dry-blasted by a surprise gust of wind.

"Kat- Katsuki, what are you doing here?"

Katsuki. Katsuki was here. In front of his door. He knew where Izuku lived. And had come here. Because ... why?

It wasn't like you could read the reason for his coming off his face. No, his face was as neutral as ever. There was just pale skin and steely red eyes. Lips sealed shut. It was an image inscrutable to Izuku. Until Katsuki's eyes dropped. And the expression changed by a margin. A curve appeared at the corner of his mouth. His eyes grew a tad bit wider.

A second later, Izuku realized why. He became very aware suddenly of the fact that he was still only wearing his pyjamas. A thin blue T-shirt paired with checkered boxers. Oh god. He was basically half naked. Why had he decided to answer the door like this?

Katsuki was taking in the sight. All of it. Even the bare of his legs. It made him squirm minutely, his slippered feet shifting. Katsuki tore his gaze back up, an unreadable expression plastered on his face, perhaps he was amused, internally laughing about Izuku's state of undress.

His neighbors. Katsuki seeing him like this was already half unbearable, but his neighbors? Izuku couldn't take that embarrassment, so he said something he didn't think he'd ever hear himself say. Let alone to Katsuki.

"Oh for gods sake, come inside. Please."

If Katsuki was surprised, he did not let it show. Self assured, he stepped into the space that Izuku had made to let him inside. When he was in Izuku's hallway, Izuku closed the door.
It fell shut in an instant with a ringing sound. Then, silence fell upon them.

It only made the thoughts in Izuku's head louder. Someone was in his hallway. Scratch that, Katsuki was in his hallway. Not even Shoto he'd let come over to his place. And Izuku had all the reason to ban people off of his premises. This was no good.

Katsuki found his gaze again, "Shoto called me."

Oh.

Oh no.

"I don't need a ride." Izuku clarified preemptively, before Katsuki could start with the topic. He crossed both of his arms in front of his chest, commemorating his resolve.

"He said you really do." If Izuku didn't know it better, he'd say that the minute smile from before had found its way back onto Katsuki's lips. But he did know better, because smiling in Katsuki's position was – insolent.

Izuku didn't let himself be deterred by that, "What I mean is: I don't need a ride from you." It came out with more emphasis than he had intended.

Katsuki's smile dropped, yet his voice remained soft, "Izuku." he sighed.

Which had Izuku's heart thumping. Somehow, the sound of Katsuki saying his name had that effect on him lately. Unnerved him. Made tingles zap at his fingers, and travel through his body. When exactly would he get used to hearing Katsuki talk again? He couldn't have that happen soon enough.

"What?" He snapped just to distract himself from it.

Katsuki leaned imperceptibly closer into his space. So little that Izuku wasn't so sure he didn't just imagine it, "Let me drive you."

The answer came easy, "No."

He knew it was well within his rights to refuse, but he couldn't shake that it still had him feeling like a petulant child stomping his foot, arguing just for the sake of it. It was not true of course, which only made it all the more frustrating.

"Inko would be really happy to see you."

Izuku's eyes widened. That was an unfair move. A low blow, even for Katsuki. Bringing his mom into this, when this had arguably nothing to do with her. Of course Izuku wanted to see her again, that was not the reason he had to refuse.

"I already told her I'd come by the Shinkansen tomorrow. She'll handle one more day without me. She's a grown woman." And doesn't need you to belatedly worry about her emotional well-being, he didn't add.

For a minute, Katsuki was silent, and Izuku felt a swell of satisfaction as they both realized that there was nothing Katsuki could counter that with. At least Izuku thought they both were on that page.

"If you won't let me drive you, I'll camp outside your apartment the entire night."

For a moment, Izuku was too stunned to say anything. Katsuki had only a thin jacket on, too cool for winter. Even for fall, it was testing his luck. Sure, his car had central heating, probably, as most cars did, but it would be irresponsible to let it run the entire night. And even so, wouldn't the heat generation only work if the car was moving?

For another moment, Izuku was torn between finally sending Katsuki away, for good, or giving him a lecture on crossing boundaries. Allowing himself to hurl out the pain and the abandonment and unleashing it on Katsuki. Again. Just like he had done at the restaurant.

Something made him hesitate to resort to that. A second later, he was hit by the premonition as to why. If he did that now, it would feel different. No matter how brazen Katsuki pretended to be, Izuku knew that he wasn't. If he gave Katsuki a piece of his mind again, it would be different. This time, it would mean more, be more. It'd be more than just a cheap way to steal himself space. Izuku was not sure how far exactly he could take their tenuous arrangement, how much strain it would be able to withstand. Not when he didn't even understand what made Katsuki agree to it in the first place. Finding out where the limit was, by getting there and crossing it, had no real appeal. Izuku still hadn't gotten everything from it that he wanted, yet. 

So he settled for a third option, which was deflection, "You wouldn't." he said, trying for unimpressed.

Because if that were true, why had Katsuki stayed missing for ten years? It didn't make sense for him to spend an entire night in the cold for practically no reason now. Was he so stubborn that he'd do it just to prove a point? Izuku doubted it. That wasn't like Katsuki. At least not judged by the track record he held, which gave Izuku no reason to believe that Katsuki had even the slightest credibility.

Besides, Izuku couldn't accept the offer for the same reason he'd told Shoto it wouldn't come to this. At the restaurant's restroom, he'd drawn a clear line between them. Undermining it now would be hypocritical towards Katsuki. And as much as Izuku hated to admit it, Katsuki didn't deserve his hypocrisy. 

"I'm sorry, I cannot accept that ride." He said finally.

Katsuki didn't look as crestfallen as Izuku had expected. He nodded to that once in acknowledgment and it didn't take much more convincing to send him out the door after. He acquiesced Izuku's command without protest.

When Katsuki was gone, silence returned to Izuku's apartment. Filled the previously occupied space like water running groundward through narrow gaps. Inevitably. For the first time, Izuku found himself bothered by it. He'd been bored by it before, but now the quiet was irritating. When this was the one night he didn't want to be alone. Izuku tried to sleep, entering his bedroom and throwing the blanket over his head first thing. It took a while until he realized that it wouldn't be working. His throughts were anything but quiet. 

Even if it wasn't Katsuki's intention when he'd mentioned his mother, the words bothered Izuku now. Gnawed at him, in their painfully irrefutable way. Katsuki had thrown that comment about Inko it into the conversation almost off handedly, but he'd known how true it was nonetheless. Inko would be happy. More than. And Izuku … he wanted to see his mom again tonight.

Before, it hadn't fully clicked into place, but now it was clearer to him than anything else he felt. He had not seen his mother in months, and even though it had done him good to move away from his hometown, the distance wasn't just a relief. He missed her. For the last months, he'd consoled himself with the thought that by Christmas Eve, they'd finally be reunited, only to let himself down on that promise on the last stretch. The delay was only by a single night, he knew that, but it didn't make it sting any less now. Izuku gruffed, and turned to his other side, pillow sinking where he placed his head.

His gaze fell on the duffel bag he'd packed the other night, all the stuff for two days spent at his mother's place. His childhood home. Next to the bag stood a gift box, which contained the present he'd gotten his mom. Now he'd have to give it to her belatedly. Izuku turned his face more into the pillow, in pursuit of drowning out the sight, so just blackness was there. Blackness, silence and a lack of air. After what felt like a significant amount of time, he had to get up for air. Izuku lifted his face off the pillow again to allow himself to breathe in.

The little intermission of complete darkness had reset his vision. As his gaze adjusted in the incoming twilight of the room, it felt like looking at the space with a fresh set of eyes.

In that way, Izuku noticed something. It was dark, or more so it should be, with how late it was, yet there was a thin stream of stark light coming from outside, which was unusual, given that his curtains were drawn and had been drawn every night for as long as Izuku lived in this flat. However, there was undeniably light coming through a small gap in between the two dark curtains, unabashedly slicing into the space.

Izuku stood up and walked to his window, drawing the curtains to each of his sides.

A car had parked not too far ahead of his apartment complex. One that Izuku didn't recognize. A second later, it doomed on him. It had to be Katsuki's car. Squinting his eyes, Izuku tried getting a read on the person behind the steering wheel, but he could only make out shadows, against the contrast of the headlights.

Izuku took a look at the bedside clock next to him. Katsuki and him had talked well over an hour ago. If it really was him, it meant that he had spent all of that time out in the cold.

Once again, Izuku found himself contemplating on what there was to do. He could try anew to send Katsuki away. He could even call the cops this time. Only when he imagined that scenario and the repercussions it would have, a familiar sense of anxiety overcame him. Doing so could possibly mean severing ties once and for all.

Without allowing himself to think about it any further, Izuku went over to his closet and pulled out the first thing he could get his hands on. He put it on and a single additional step, he grabbed the bag and the present to tuck them under each of his arms and then Izuku stepped out of his door. He began to walk. With every step he took, he felt his mind chanting the same sentence.

Step.

He wasn't doing this.

Step.

He wasn't really doing this.

Step.

He was not actually -

A knock sounded. The quiet of outside shortly intermitted by the sound of knuckles rapping against a cold window shield. Izuku lowered his hand again. And waited.

One heartbeat. Two. Three.

The window rolled down. And Katsuki's head came into view. Their eyes locked over the edge of the glass.

"I'll come. I'll let you drive me." Izuku was out of breath. Had he run here? He hadn't wanted to give himself time to rethink it. Small clouds of vapor formed only to dissipate shortly after where he had spoken the words.

"The doors are unlocked." Katsuki said, in lieu of questioning Izuku's change of heart. Izuku hurried to the other side of the car and got in. He was distraught to find that the inside of the car was almost as cold as the outside had been. So Katsuki had really sat here, unable to turn on the heat. Izuku smothered the feelings of guilt the moment it began to stir in him. After all, he had not forced Katsuki to do that.

Katsuki started the car, and the moment they were on their way, Izuku wordlessly turned on the heater. He gave Katsuki the grace of pretending that he didn't see how hard the other shivered.
Some time in, the shaking stopped, and Izuku felt strangely placated at the sight, even if he shouldn't care.

So they were doing this. They were on their way to their hometown. It was 19 o'clock. If luck was on their side, they might still make it before Christmas Eve came to an end.

Considering Izuku’s odds these past few weeks, he was more than just a little doubtful.

With how deep the sun stood, there was no saying if they could still make it before midnight. Their first and only stop came when Izuku, after a one hour ride mostly in silence, expressed his need to go on the toilet. Katsuki took the next exit lane and drove onto a rest stop. It was mostly desolate. No cars parked in the parking lots, which would no doubt be packed eight hours from now.

Katsuki let him out of the car and Izuku went inside of the small shop that, according to the billboard at the side of the highway, housed a public toilet in the backrooms. When he came back to the car, Izuku decided that he couldn't take it anymore. The artificial silence.

"Okay, let's talk about it." He sighed into the small space, which had, until now, been dark and mostly quiet, safe for the radio, which ran on the lowest setting, playing a tune Izuku didn't recognize. Some new age band, up and coming.

Katsuki's gaze didn't sway from the road, "About what?"

"About how things will change once Inko sees you."

"They don't have to."

"What?" Izuku frankly had no idea how he was supposed to understand that – Katsuki must realize that Izuku was by far not the only one affected by his sudden disappearance? He must. Inko wont be able to just pretend like the last ten years hadn't passed in the way they did.

Katsuki's voice was calm, which helped a bit, at the very least it let him now that Katsuki wasn't outright trying to be rude, "I mean, if you don't want Inko to see me, I can also not show up."

Izuku had misunderstood him. Completely. Quickly, he scurried inside for a reply to what Katsuki had actually meant to say. He didn't have to search long.

"And drive the entire way back home in the middle of the night? I don't think so. I'm not a monster."  

Katsuki shrugged, languid movement pulling at his shoulders, from which Izuku could tell that he wasn't the only one that started to feel the day coming to an end, the tiredness setting in. It confirmed to him that he was right in not wanting to let Katsuki drive back again later.

"I could take a hotel."

Izuku scoffed, "Because our dump of a hometown has that much of a selection. Sure." He sighed again, "No, it's okay for her to see you. It should happen at some point, shouldn’t it? Or do you want to tell me you wanted her to believe you're dead forever?" A little bit of accusation swung in that statement, one of which Izuku hadn’t been aware he felt.

Katsuki risked a quick look at him. Apart from them, there was almost no one else on the highway, still, they were going 150 kilometers per hour. "You haven’t yet told her that I’m alive?"

"Why should I have done that? To take work off your hands?"

"That's not what I meant, of course you didn't have to do that. I will. And for the record, I hadn’t planned on letting her think that. I just hadn't been aware that you guys both thought I was dead all these years."

Oh right. Izuku forgot about that. Mitsuki had lied to them about this. But he didn't want to say that now, acknowledge it, so instead he said, "Don't be rich now. There is not that much to pick from when someone goes no contact for ten years," but it lacked real heat. He was too tired for real heat.

Katsuki didn't respond.

Silence lengthened until Izuku said, "You'll sleep at Inko's place." That was his final word. They could both tell so. 

With nothing left to discuss, Izuku was free to lean back in his seat and let his thoughts run. There were some things he needed to figure out. The changes he'd have to Face in the future because of what he decided on tonight.

Once Inko knew about Katsuki being alive, a lot would change.

For one, Izuku would no longer have the option to drop this act with Katsuki. He may never be able to just … stop texting Katsuki, stop seeing him, and pretend that all the times they've met have never happened. He may no longer go back to the reality in which Katsuki was gone. Was dead.
Not if his own mother bore witness to Katsuki's so to say resurrection.

And then, he would probably have to give her updates on the situation. Inko would likely want to know where things were heading. Katsuki just had been too much of a topic in both of their lives after the disappearance for her not to care. She wont be able to help herself from worrying over it again.

Would that be okay?

Izuku couldn't say, but what he knew was that he would not let Katsuki start the same drive back to Tokyo tonight. It was just like Izuku had told Katsuki, he was not a monster.

Chapter Text

It's only when they arrive that Izuku's heart sunk straight to the floor. It might just be possible that he hadn't thought this through. How he would break the news to Inko. Yet Katsuki leaving now was not an option. It was too dark and the weather was too bad for him to drive back this late at night. They were in Ibaraki. Here the probability of snow was higher than in Tokyo.

They sat in the car. Katsuki finally turned the engine off, and then the only thing that kept them confined to their places was the knowledge that, once they stepped out of the car and did this, it was irreversible.

"I can still leave." Katsuki said, as if he had read Izuku's mind. Maybe, Izuku had talked out loud. He couldn't say.

He shook his head lightly, "Don't start this again now."

Then he allowed himself one last intake of breath, before reaching for the handle of the car door. When he stepped out Katsuki followed suit without word.

Outside, the cold, which the car had shielded them from for the last hours, awaited. It hadn't snowed yet, but there was a crisp quality to the air that let you know it couldn't be too long now. Izuku hadn't thought to watch the weather forecast for his hometown, but he'd take a guess that tonight might even be the night it'd happen. Ibaraki's first snow.

Apart from their steps, it was quiet. Back out here on the remote countryside, it was so much quieter than it ever was in Tokyo. That difference was immediately called into his attention, because it used to be part of Izuku's everyday life. That particular silence. Some might even call it desolation. He forced himself to get going. If Katsuki had noticed his faltering, he was perfectly fine with keeping his knowledge of concealed.

Too soon, they reached the front porch. They came to a stop before the wooden door, which was adorned by a christmas wreath of evergreen twigs and small, blue glowing light bulbs. Behind it, Inko was waiting, unsuspecting of what was about to unleash on her. They would break a storm upon her. Izuku had no idea how she would take the news.

Next to him, Katsuki stepped onto the porch. The sleeve of his thin jacket brushed Izuku at the elbow. It had been just a minute since they left the car, but already, Katsuki was shivering again. Izuku got over himself and pressed the doorbell. They both tensed the moment Izuku's finger descended and they could hear the muted ringing.

Steps sounded from the other end of the door, coming closer to the door by the second. Izuku's heart was beating into his throat. If he felt like this already, then just how must Katsuki feel? Izuku took a quick look to his left to Katsuki, who was watching the door, taut as a guitar string, yet his expression was colored in resolution.

The handle creaked, a second later, the door swung open, making way to the moderate figure of his mom. Inko Midoriya had always been a woman of relatively short stature, though her years had made her softer and shorter still. Her green hair had the same tint as Izuku's, but was straight as iron as opposed to the unruly curls that sprung out of his scalp. She didn't have the freckles. It meant that it gave a clear and unobstructed sight on the pure shock etched into her face the moment her eyes swayed off Izuku and fell on Katsuki.
Her smile fell and she turned pale, paler than Izuku had ever seen her. For a moment, he thought that she might pass out. One of her hands reached fast toward her chest, cramping the fabric of her rose-colored pullover. She trembled, more than Katsuki even.

"Kat … Kat- …" Her voice was so dimmed that they might not have heard her at all, if the surroundings hadn't been even quieter.

"Hello, Auntie."

"Oh–" Inko's voice broke off, but just that little sound had harbored so much emotion, Izuku's heart squeezed uncomfortably upon hearing it. It had been a long time since he had last heard her sound so pained. He didn't want his mom to cry, but it was quite possible that this would happen any moment.

Inko's voice was heavy under the weight of her upcoming tears when she did manage to say, "Oh Katsuki!" In one huge leap, she was in front of Katsuki. In the blink of an eye, she had her hands wrapped around him. And in the next, she was hugging the life out of Katsuki. Almost. Katsuki's hands came to wrap around her back. And then they were both just hugging each other. Holding each other. Izuku had to avert his eyes at the sight. Breathing was hard suddenly. Something about seeing his mom and Katsuki embrace … was so … overwhelming. For reasons that he didn't quite understand. Not right now, upon first glance.

It felt like the tectonic plates were shifting right beneath him. That's how much of an impact it had. None of this should have been possible. At least he hadn't believed so. But now that not only he had met Katsuki again, but his mother had seen him too, two people who knew the young Katsuki, not just the new adult version that had come into being during the years in Tokyo he'd spent away from them, Izuku realized how – how possible everything was. And how much it was worth. A value that he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge until now.

Inko and him had experienced the same trauma in some ways. Losing Katsuki. Watching Inko get Katsuki back now was healing in a way that Izuku neither could describe, nor wanted to try to attempt to. He simply allowed himself, for the first time since meeting Katsuki again, to be grateful. Grateful that Katsuki was alive. Grateful that Katsuki was here. Grateful that they had Katsuki back.

It felt like an eternity, before his mother lowered her arms from the hug. She took a step back to look at him again, her expression wasn't like anything Izuku had seen on her before. Like she had been shown the secret at the other end of a rainbow. Inko couldn't believe her eyes and what was right in front of her, for it posed too much of a miracle. This very moment was imprinting itself on Izuku's heart. Izuku could tell, for he felt the muscle grow heavy around the edges of the forming mark. Never – he'd never forget just what he felt at this very moment.

Then they entered the house. Inko ushered them inside as if they were escaping a snow storm. She led them into the dining room, to the dinner table where they had eaten so many meals together that Izuku could no longer tell any of the individual memories apart.

"Katsuki, sit here-" Inko pointed to the spot at the round table opposite the wall. That way, someone could sit on either side. Izuku was sure that was exactly her intention.

When Katsuki sat down obediently, Inko took advantage of this moment once again to take Katsuki in her arms as he sat there. She pulled him into her upper body, as though any minimal space left would hurt her, almost lost in thought, pressed a kiss to his head. Izuku could see that there were tears in the corners of her eyes. When she let go, she stroked his hair once more. Her hand was slightly shaking still.

Only then did she approach Izuku. Before he had any time to process it, he was caught in the same tight embrace that Katsuki had enjoyed. His mom's perfume filled his nose. Juniper, woodsy, warm and soothing. Izuku squeezed a little tighter than he usually did, not knowing why he needed to, but suddenly he did, and hoped his mother wouldn't mind. My god, this evening made him so emotional. That wasn't like him at all.

"My boy," Inko whispered in his ear suddenly, "You really scared me." Because of the embrace, Izuku could feel that the shock had seeped as deep as down to her bones. Maybe it was the height difference between them, but he felt as if Inko wasn't so steady on her feet.

"Since when did you know?"

He wasn't sure how much of their conversation Katsuki was able to hear. They were standing a little way away from him and Katsuki had discreetly averted his gaze, but he must be able to hear it in parts. "Not too long ago. I had to really understand it myself first."

"Oh Izuku." His mother cried softly. Her grip on him tightened ever so slightly. Inko really wasn't a big woman, she couldn't grip him too tightly, but he felt it nonetheless. A warm, painful hug. It felt almost like an apology. As if she wanted to say sorry for the years she'd spent doubting him, this, Katsuki being alive. It made him feel queasy. If his mother felt sorry for doubting Izuku, it wouldn't be right, considering that he didn't know, either. He had simply been too lost in illusions to allow reason to dictate his sight. She had to be the reasonable one, when Izuku had done his best to not be. But he couldn't tell her that just now, so he confined himself to staying in the embrace for as long as she wanted to.
Shortly afterwards, his mom him let go again to disappear into the kitchen, where all the festive dishes had still been waiting for the guests to arrive. Seems like Izuku hadn't been the only one hesitant to accept the prospect of moving the celebrations over to the next day.

You really had to give her credit for that. Inko didn't ask any questions. As soon as she re-entered the room, Christmas officially began. That was the focus. The celebration. Albeit, you could still tell that she was holding back, being cautious in her wordings and demeanor. There was a general understanding that all that stuff, the unanswered questions, could wait until tomorrow. Today only one thing was important. Which was that they were together, in the peculiar way in which fate had reunited them. They sat together at the dinner table, just like it had happened many times before ten years ago. They conversed lightly and they ate and they drank champaigne that Inko had brought out alongside the food. Though it didn't quite feel like someone had turned back time. A heavy melancholy hung over the evening, like the counterpart to the fairy lights dangling from the chandelier above them.

Still, Katsuki sat in their midst, them gathered around him like he was a fireplace warming them. Every word that came out of his mouth was another piece of tinder. Every smile a spark and every laugh a flame.

Katsuki told Inko everything Izuku already knew. About his life in Tokyo, his adoptive family, his school years, his job, his friends. How him and Izuku had met again. Izuku listened to it without interjecting. He just watched the image of adult Katsuki forming in front of his inner eye anew. First he'd asked Katsuki about all of it himself, then he'd been able to briefly revisit it while he'd introduced Katsuki to Jirou, and now, the third time, it hadn't lost any of it's effect in the slightest. On the contrary, the more often Izuku heard it, the clearer the image became. Like debris settling at the ground of a river to form a sediment with clear, distinctable layers over time.

After a while it switched over and Katsuki himself also had questions of his own. For instance, he asked Inko how she's been doing, what she's been up to. Whether the kids in school were behaving well or if there was anyone giving her trouble the way he had done at first. They laughed a ton, and they smiled from time to time.

And Izuku sat there in amazement, because he could not take it in. He didn't know what to feel. He just felt. Just let himself be in the moment, without meticulously dissecting his thoughts on every aspect of it. Or breaking his mind over how exactly they were going to go on after this. Worry was not on his mind for maybe the first time that he was around Katsuki since they had met again.

Inko and Katsuki talking did something to him. She was at ease in the way that she interacted with him. Izuku would have never expected her to. He'd seen what Katsuki's absence had done to her over the years. She'd loved him like a son, he would know, and when he was gone, she had to make herself forget that, so that she could to try to help Izuku deal with it. As an adult, he could see that now. And he also knew that she had never liked doing it. It must have hurt her so much. At some point, he'd have to talk to her about it, but for now, he allowed himself not to ponder it, trusting that they'd know what to do when that time arrived.

Also against his initial belief, Katsuki and Inko were interacting like time had never paused on them. Izuku wondered faintly how they were able to? How was his mother doing it? How to mend ten years of absence in the span of one evening?

He felt it inside of himself, an emptiness so vast that nothing quite seemed like it was capable of filling that void. The abyss that had opened up inside of him during his youth. One of which he thought that no amount of time and contact and talking would be enough to close it. And yet, he was being proven the opposite in front of his very own eyes. The span of one shocked look was all that it needed, was all the time it took them, and now they were alright.

Of course nothing was truly okay, but Izuku could at least see that Inko and Katsuki would never lose sight of each other again. Izuku didn't know how to get there, even if he wanted to. A week ago, he wouldn't even have been sure if he did really want that. Now, he didn't know how it would be possible, but it had to be.

Katsuki now asked Inko for the recipe to the chicken they were eating. When she told him, Katsuki asked for another one, this time it was one that they used to eat all the time when they still ate their dinners together. Katsuki explained that he's thought about how she made it from time to time, and no matter how much experience he'd gathered in his career, he had so far not been able to recreate it, not down to the distinct taste of it. He complimented her for it, which flattered Inko, they could both tell. Since when had Katsuki become a charmer? was likely what Inko was thinking right now, and if so, Izuku and her were thinking the same.

The stereo system was turned on, and Inko had put in a Christmas CD. Just when the song switched over to Last Christmas, Inko exclaimed. "Oh, right Izuku, I've still got a gift for you."

Excited, she walked over to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, which was still sproused in all the decorations Izuku remembered from his childhood, even hand drawn ones by him.

"Thank you mom, you really didn't have to." He mumbled, cheek pressed into his palm. Normally, he'd stand up to join her by the tree, but he was more than exhausted.

"Oh shush and open it, quick." His mom seemed to have all the understanding for his situation, for she brought the gift box up to him at the table. So Izuku complied. He unwrapped the grift, crumpling the gift wrap in his hands before placing it on the table.

When he set eyes on what was hiding in there, he nearly fell from his chair. His mom had gifted him an All Might action figure, to be more specific, a true and rare vintage one from 1993, that depicted him in a bathing suit he 's worn exclusively for a fight scene in the second movie, which had taken place near a beach, hence the bathing suit. The public had deemed it not family friendly enough so the suit was never to be reused again in the franchise.

The figurine, despite the little screen presence the outfit had, sold out worldwide in less than a week. It would have sold out in a single day had it not been for the delayed release in various countries. The fast sell out was in part due to the printing volume of less than 50.000 copies. The other part was the aforementioned family ... unfriendliness.

He was holding history in his hand. How had his mom, his very dear, very internet dyslexic mom, managed to acquire this? In his college years, Izuku had tried for some time to get one of the figures for his pitiful collection, but gave up after some months of fruitless trial and error. These figures now sold for way past their initial price. Often times, sellers even demanded at least sixteen times the inital price. And no matter how much of a fan Izuku was, he was also a grown man, and he didn't exactly feel comfortable knowing that he'd spent so much money on an action figure.

"Mom, wow." He breathed out, "I have no idea how you accomplished this – but thank you." He reached for her hand on the table to squeeze it.

"I'm glad you like it. I recently met someone who helped me with the figure. You know I don't actually know that much about All Might," Inko said with a nervous laugh,"So it shouldn't actually be me whom you thank."

Izuku was still too awestruck with the figure, that he completely forgot to wonder who exactly Inko could have met with that much expertise and also leverage to get their hands on this rarety. He grabbed the gift he'd gotten his mom from under the table, where he'd placed it earlier upon sitting down, and handed it over to her.

"It's not as expensive, I'm afraid."

"Oh, I won't care, Izuku, don't ever think that. Besides, my gift wasn't expensive, either." She didn't even flinch at the lie. And it was a lie, so blatant, in fact, that Katsuki and him shared a glance over it. If anyone else knew just how expenive that figurine was, it'd be Katsuki.

Inko was unwrapping her gift and they watched her.

"It's really nothing special in comparison, I'm sorry." Gifting his own mother stuff was hard, because she always claimed she already had everything that she needed. And when Izuku asked what it was that she needed, she would answer with 'her merry son'. Mothers ...

"Comparison is the thief of joy, Izuku, I'm sure I'll like it," Inko interrupted him and finished the unwrapping, "What are you saying? I love these." Proudly, Inko held up the gardening gloves Izuku had gotten for her.

Inko liked to garden, so he figured it was a fitting present for her. And judging by the smile she sprouted, she thought so, too.

Afterwards they sat there for a while and enjoyed the actual fire that Inko had lit. Still conversed lightly about nothing in particular. Despite that, it was the most surreal light conversation Izuku had ever had.

Towards the end, Inko did let some of it slip. It was unclear what had caused her to lose it, they had been sitting together and still laughing about some joke Katsuki had told, when it came over her suddenly, her laughter ending in a strangled sob and she suddenly, without warning, apologized to Katsuki.

"I'm so sorry Katsuki."

You could see that Katsuki had no idea what she meant, let alone how to deal with it. He looked at Izuku for a second, then started to say "Auntie-", but she interrupted him.

"No, I'm – I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed an adult to stand up."

"Auntie, you already did so much more than you had to."

"But not nearly as much as I could have." She smiled a sad smile, "I had a lot of years to come to terms with that. I know one apology will not make that up, but I couldn't look at myself in the mirror tomorrow if I hadn't made any efforts to let you know."

Katsuki didn't talk back anymore. He accepted her apology gratefully and a newfound somberness surrounded them. They decided to end the celebrations not much later.

It was well past midnight when the topic of sleeping arrangements first came up. Inko looked visibly flustered as she turned to them. She smiled, but it was obvious that she just did it to cover up some type of discomfort.
Izuku knew his mom well enough to sense that she was about to tell them something that she did not want to talk about. After all, she has never been all that good with talking about what's uncomfortable to say.

"What is it?" He therefore asked, giving her the entry she was clearly lacking.

Inko clasped her hands in a fake cheerful way, and by that betraying her real, nervous state, "Since I didn't know that Katsuki was going to come here, I only prepared your room Izuku."

"That shouldn't be an issue, should it? There's plenty of space on the floor for an air mattress?" Izuku asked her, to clarify things. And even if there wasn't, when all else failed, they still had the living room.

"Yes, that's true–," she cut herself off, "I mean, it would be true, but some while ago I was decluttering our storage and when I saw the air mattress I threw it away since it had holes in it and fixing them would have been more trouble than the old thing was worth. I haven't restocked one since, because I didn't think we'd be needing one any time soon. You could see if you can make fit with just your bed. Alternatively, one of you can of course sleep on the couch here, but I'm afraid that we only have one blanket and one pillow anyway."

With 'one of them' she meant Izuku of course. There was no way she'd let Katsuki sleep on the couch.

Izuku nodded, "Okay. I'll sleep here, it's no issue."

Katsuki turned to him, "No, that's not– no. I came here without notice and basically invited myself. I can't kick you out of your own bedroom. I'll sleep on the couch."

To both of their surprise, Inko suddenly turned teary eyed, "Oh, don't you guys remember when you were both still young and you used to always sleep in the same bed together? It happened almost every night. I know you both thought I never noticed, but frankly, I never realized how you could think that? I mean, I was awake way sooner than you were and I often found you snuggling in the morning, whenever I went to wake Izuku before going to work." Her smile at that spoke volumes.

Neither Izuku nor Katsuki knew how to respond to that. Inko was not aware of the brick she'd dropped. It wasn't a memory he had planned to revisit any time soon, but as it seemed, today was not just for revisiting memories, but also for reliving them.

There likely wasn't a thing he'd rather do than what he was about to, but logically, there was no way past it. "Let's just share the bed." He said, addressing Katsuki, and when he saw Katsuki's shocked expression he added, "Since there's only one blanket and one pillow, it makes the most sense to share them. And I'd rather we share the bed than have both of us trying to squeeze onto the couch." The last thing he'd said as a joke, to lighten the blow of his suggestion.

Which was kind of useless, since he had no illusions about Katsuk refusing. It was the 24th of December, after all, and though Inko was heating more than Izuku did in his apartment, sleeping without blankets would still make for an uncomfortable experience that he was decidedly not interested in making. And neither did he want to force Katsuki to make it, if there was even the slightest chance that Inko would let him.

"Okay." Katsuki agreed, after what seemed like a short period of fighting with himself and which Izuku found odd, but ultimately was too tired to question.

So they found themselves here in Izuku's childhood bedroom again. Alone. Reunited after ten years of no contact. This was beyond weird. Izuku tried not to let it show. He had brushed his teeth and changed into his pyjamas in the bathroom first, before he switched places with Katsuki, who'd been waiting in Izuku's bedroom for his turn. He of course, had to lend clothes from Izuku for sleeping, since in his hurry after Shoto had called him, he hadn't though to pack any.

Izuku was almost mad at him for it. Was he really convinced that Izuku would have send him driving back home the moment he'd dropped Izuku off? After he'd just done him that favor? While it was this cold and late? And on Christmas Eve? They weren't on the best of terms, that was for sure, but Izuku wasn't a complete buffoon, he had some empathy left, even for Katsuki. It angered him also, because Izuku hadn't forseen this turn of events either and had therefore packed only for himself. One pair of pyjamas and one outfit for tomorrow.

When it came to the question of what Katsuki would wear for the night, it was a choice between him sleeping in his boxers, or taking a desperate look into Izuku's old dressers, in the hopes that he would find something he had forgotten to take with him when leaving for college. Five yers ago.

Meaning, leftovers from his teenage years, which, if at all, had only a slim chance of fitting Katsuki. Though knowing his chances, Izuku had opted for the latter and he still had the audacity to be disappointed at his meager findings. The dresser drawer was empty. Of course it was. He had left nothing behind when he left for college. That had been crucial to him back then. Taking every piece of himself along to Tokyo and keeping it bundled in one place, where he had oversight of it. He hadn't wanted any more parts of himself to feel lost and scattered. Only two things had remained here, and Izuku didn't need to look into the dresser to know what they were.

So Katsuki would have to wear his boxers and his shirt to sleep. Izuku didn't have to tell him, he figured on his own, when he'd sneaked a glance over Izuku's shoulder into the dresser. Katsuki had gone into the bathroom without another word and this was where things were left off.

Izuku was waiting in his old bedroom for the moment that Katsuki would get in here. And then, what came after that? They would go to sleep. Something that had happened a million times in the past, but not a single more time since Katsuki had left. Years had passed since then and nothing was the same now.

It was well past midnight, but Izuku highly doubted that he would fall asleep any time soon. He was nervous. His heart was racing despite himself, like he had to expect something bad to happen any moment. Something the magnitude of which could rival the world ending. Or if not that bad, then at least as bad as a volcano outbreak. Just why had he suggested for them to sleep in his bed together?

He was just sitting at the edge of it now, and just that was him already taking up a quarter of the space. Sleeping here with Katsuki ... would be a tight fit, and that was just the euphemistic waz of looking at it. Maybe he could still make for the couch? It wasn't necessarily bigger than his bed, quite the opposite, but at least it would be space that he'd use solitarily.

The door opened with a creak, old hinges and all, and Izuku's head snapped up. It was not Katsuki. Inko stood in the door frame, holding something in her hand which appeared to be a lump of some sort.

"I went back into the storage and I found this." She said, coming in, "Our old couch blanket. So you don't have to share one."

"Thank you, mom." He accepted the blanket when she handed it to him. She stood in front of him for a few more seconds, then she unexpectedly cupped his face with one hand.

"And you're okay?"

He exhaled. He couldn't say what she was alluding to, whether it was Katsuki's sudden appearance or the years of his absence, but whatever it was , the answer was likely the same, and for both cases he wouldn't tell her the truth, so he said, "Yes mom." before smiling briefly, holding her hand in his where she was petting his face. She left him to his own devices after that, going straight to her own bedroom across the floor to go to sleep. He'd do the same if he were her, it had been a long day.

With Inko showing up, Izuku had momentarily forgotten about his plan to make a ditch for the couch. Katsuki came in not long after. Cautiously opening and closing the door like it was gonna break if he did it too harshly. He was only in his black boxers and the dark shirt of earlier. His legs were bare, safe for the slippers and the socks. It was funny for a second, when Izuku realized that this was the exact reversal of how they had stood in front of each other just some hours ago, when Katsuki had shown up at his door steps. Then Izuku averted his eyes when he felt his throat tighten in something that definitely wasn't amusement. The look suited Katsuki unfairly well. It was … intimate.
Izuku listened as Katsuki padded over to the bed, which Izuku hadn't sat back on ever since spreading out the second blanket, steps muffled by the wool underside of the slippers.

"I'll sleep on the left." Izuku said, just to fill the quiet space with something. Something to distract him from what was about to happen. Already happening.

Katsuki nodded, changing course to walk to the right side of the bed.

Izuku had decided to keep the couch blanket for himself since it smelled a bit stale, the way fabric does when it has been sitting in the closet for some time. Now imagine the scent when instead of the closet, it was stored in a tiny basement storage. Yeah ... it would do for the night. Izuku himself had stood at his desk, waiting for Katsuki's return. Now that they were both here, and Katsuki began wrapping himself under the other blanket, Izuku went back over to the light switch to turn it off. Getting back into his bed in relative darkness was not hard. Muscle memory was guiding him still despite the break of a couple years.

He forced himself to do it fast, lifting the blanket to get under it, with his back facing Katsuki, who had done the same. He drew up the blanket up to right under his chin and clenched his fist in the fabric. The room itself was cool. Izuku, while waiting at the desk, had suffered it even in his pajama pants. Here in bed, he felt the stark contrast. Below the blanket, a burst of warmth had immediately rushed at him. Katsuki's body heat, or the blanket's heat retaining properties, he couldn't say. A heat that would be pleasant if it weren't so nerve-wracking.

With this moment, Christmas was over. The evening had ended and by the time they would wake up tomorrow, the festivities would officially lie in the past. They would drive back home and presumably pretend that this never happened.

Izuku tried his very best to cling to that thought, but no matter how much he concentrated on it, it failed to distract him from the fact that right now, tomorrow had not yet come. He was still lying in the same bed as Katsuki.

It was hard not to notice that he could hear not just his own breathing in the quiet of the night. Felt every minor movement of Katsuki as a shift on his side of the mattress. At least they were not touching in any places. It seemed that both him and Katsuki had placed themselves at the very edge of this single sized bed. At least there was that. Still, just knowing that them not touching was intentional on both parts was electrifying in a way. So much that it kept him awake. Funny how his brain worked. Just his luck. Izuku would have sighed, if there hadn't been the risk of Katsuki hearing it. Closing his eyes, he confined himself to sighing only in his head, not in doubt that this would be a long, long night.

And like that, minutes passed. First, five. Then ten. Fifteen.

Izuku was still awake as ever. And he had a hunch that Katsuki was, too. His breathing hadn't leveled out.

When they were still young, and Katsuki had slept over, this had always been a tell tale sign that Katsuki had drifted off. He was a quiet sleeper, he'd never snored. At night when he was truly out, he was always so relaxed, his face muscles slacking, the crease in his forehead finally resting. In the past, Izuku had never seen him so while awake. It had therefore happened more often than he'd ever admit, that he'd stay awake at night just some minutes longer than Katsuki, to see the other asleep, just to look at him. The sight had soothed him, knowing that Katsuki was rarely ever as calm otherwise.

His past self had never known what made Katsuki so tense and agitated, but he had noticed it sometimes anyway, when he let himself. And it had worried him. Whenever he had tried to broach the subject, which unfortunately hadn't been very often, Katsuki had always avoided direct answers. He'd grown angry and derisive. And Izuku had let him get away with it for far too long.
Whilst at night, he'd consoled himself with that, the image of Katsuki sleeping, and had told himself that, if Katsuki was okay when he was with Izuku, he'd just have to make him stay around. If he could do that, he'd help Katsuki and it wouldn't matter that Katsuki was keeping a secret.

Something inside of Izuku was burning to get him to turn around. Just to see, just to check, if that was still the same. Hopefully, Katsuki could find peace at night still, while lying next to Izuku. Once, this room had been the only place in their hometown that Katsuki had wanted to run to, where he had felt safe, happy. Hopefully, it could still provide the same comfort. Be a safeguard. Izuku hadn't thought about it until now, and he really had no idea why it hadn't occured to him sooner, but it couldn't be easy for Katsuki to be here.

Izuku would have turned around in the next moment, if it hadn't been for Katsuki to speak up, "This jostles memories, doesn't it?"

Izuku's breath caught in his throat. So Katsuki had been awake the entire time, too.

"Uhm, yeah, all the ones I'd thought buried."

Katsuki's voice felt small and meek, maybe it was the darkness, maybe it was the late hour. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that they were laying as close together as they hadn't done in ten years. And Katsuki's calf had just brushed Izuku's, it was dulled by the two blankets, but Izuku felt it all the same, as if they weren't even there, "All of them?"

Izuku stayed silent, at first, not sure what to say. Then he sighed, "No, not all of them." He didn't want to lie anymore. After tonight, he wasn't able to. Maybe he never could again. "I'd just thought about it myself."

"What were you thinking about?"

Talking to Katsuki and not looking at him was weird, but turning around wouldn't help either. It was too dark to see anything.

"Did you know that I used to watch you sleep a lot?"

The late hour didn't make Izuku honest, that was his own decision, but it somehow made him less cautious. Katsuki was silent now, and he didn't move either, as if he'd suddenly tensed up at Izuku's words. For some reason he couldn't fathom, Izuku slid an inch closer. Maybe something inside him wanted to compensate for Katsuki's motionlessnes.

It felt like an eternity before Katsuki replied, "I didn't know that. Why?" His voice strangely changed. Occupied, like he was in thought.

Izuku felt the need to explain himself, perhaps being more elaborate than was wise, "You were never relaxed, you know. Never. I only noticed it over time, and it took me much longer than it should have, but eventually I noticed it. And then I started to worry. At night, that was the only time when it at least seemed like you were fine. Sometimes, I needed that, so I could fall asleep myself. To see that you were okay." There was no sound apart from their voices. Or at least Izuku thought there hadn't been. Until he'd paused. Now, he became aware of the faint chipper of some kind of nocturnal guest roaming the premises of the house. He swallowed, pulled the blanket a little more over his face, so that his mouth was almost covered, and then he said into the fabric, "When I saw you in the club, that was the first time I had that feeling again. That you're okay. You were smiling. And laughing. I didn't show it, but I was … happy, about that." He had only realized this at that moment. Perhaps because he had not allowed himself to think about that night again until just now.

Katsuki turned around suddenly and instantly the tone, the importance, of the conversation changed. Like something significant in the air had shifted around them. Like the room had shrunk by several square meters and had compressed it. Izuku could feel Katsuki's gaze at the back of his head, even though he couldn't see it. His heart began pounding again, and Izuku couldn't tell for the life of him what that was all about. Should he turn around now too? With some trouble, he reminded himself to not hold his breath.

"Izuku."

Again. Just this word. Only his name. Katsuki was laying emphasis on the cadence in a way that was throwing Izuku for a loop. It sounded almost like Deku.

"What?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know– " a soft thud alerted him, something had just hit the space right at Izuku's back. Just shy of an actual touch. Katsuki's hand. "I don't know what to say."

Izuku abruptly stood up to go over to his closet, where he knew exactly two things had been left behind by him. Earlier when he'd looked around for clothes that Katsuki could sleep in, he'd avoided opening the closet, not just because he knew that it would have been a futile shot, but also because he knew too that it wasn't empty. Not truly. And that what was inside should not be seen by Katsuki. He grabbed for it in total darkness, but found it all the same. Just where he had placed it ten years ago. Then he returned with it in his hand. He could feel Katsuki's eyes watching his moving silhouette in the darkness, with just the dim light of the crescent moon aiding him.

"I have something for you. Since you didn't get a Christmas present tonight." When he sat down again, he was holding out a piece of paper to Katsuki. All in all, it couldn't have made for an impressive sight, given that he'd crumpled it in his fists and thrown it away one day, just to fish it out of the bin by nightbreak, and the paper had never made a full recovery from it. "Happy Birthday." He joked, lightly, when it occured to him that it might be a fitting thing to say.

Katsuki was startled, his touch tentative when he reached out for the paper Izuku was holding out to him in the twilight. "Izuku, what exactly is ..."

"It's the comic I made for your fourteenth birthday."

Izuku wanted to quickly get it over with and lay down again. He didn't know what it was that had come over him just now. Just when Katsuki's hand had appeared at his back, he had jumped up on instinct, in the middle of the night, and then he'd needed a plan to downplay that stunt, his nerves. His closet had been the only thing in sight so he'd figured ... why not? It was no use for him to hold onto that old paper anyway. Plus, Katsuki had driven him here all the way. This was perhaps one way to repay that debt, a debt Izuku hadn't intended on getting himself into.

"Don't turn the light on. You can read it some other time." Izuku explained, and with that wanted to actually lay down, but before he knew it, heated arms were encapsulating him. Something about it more pronounced in the darkness than would be in the morning. Katsuki's chest pressed against his back, his hands were on Izuku's arms. The grip of them tight. Izuku actually let out a weeze, but there was no pain. It wasn't too tight. He had not expected this. At all.

"Uh." He scrunched his eyes close without really even knowing why. "Uh", he said again.

"Thank you." in Katsuki's muffled voice, the words were breathed against the skin of his nape, just below his hair line so that he felt them in all of their intensity. They did go to sleep after that, though it took Izuku a while to close his eyes, mostly because, well, he had no fucking idea how he was supposed to go to sleep after this.

When Izuku woke up, it felt to him like his mind was working both slower than usual and at rapid speed. He could only take in one thing at a time, but then, he could not stop taking in things.

One, Katsuki and him were in each other's arms. Two, no, they're not in each other's arms, he was in Katsuki's. Katsuki had his arms wrapped around the small of Izuku's waist. His hands splaying hot under Izuku's back. Three, Katsuki's head rested in the crook of Izuku's neck, hair brushing the sensitive skin there. Four, Katsuki was half spread on Izuku's chest, which had Izuku's sleep shirt riding up to almost his sternum, exposing his stomach and more than. Five, Katsuki was still asleep, breathing ever so lightly.
Six…

Six, Katsuki had an erection. It pressed into the fleshy part of Izuku's thigh. Right after Izuku took up on that, his magical rapid speed thinking came to an abrupt stop. He didn't know what to think or do after. His heart was thumping hard in his chest, and when the thought occurred to him that this might wake Katsuki, with how close he was to Izuku's heartbeat, the thumping just did the useless thing of intensifying furthermore.

What the hell had happened to the two blankets? Izuku looked around, trying to keep his inner frenzy at bay, and found them both sprawled at the end of the bed, one of them even, Katsuki's, half on the floor. After, he didn't know whether it was an intentional or subconscious movement, but he shifted under Katsuki, which rattled the blonde out of his sleep. His eyes were still closed, but Katsuki groaned.

For a short moment, the hands under Izuku clenched, almost as if to grasp him tighter, right after that, Katsuki withdrew his hands and opened his eyes.

Izuku could tell the exact moment when he realized it, what had happened. Katsuki made to disentangle himself from Izuku.

He mumbled, "Sorry." The sound almost too soft for Izuku to pick up on, he had to half read the movement of Katsuki's lips to understand.

Whatever (truly masochist) part of him that thought the situation as it was was not bad enough, also decided for him to blush in response. Izuku flushed vibrantly. His face now felt as hot as all the places where Katsuki's skin had touched his a second ago.

Izuku was so flustered, he could feel his mind slip into old familiar territory. He started to ramble, unable to stop himself, "Oh, it's okay Katsuki. It's a natural bodily function. I would never blame you. Recent studies show that it still happens to quite a high percentage of men in their early twenties–"

"I'll freshen up in the bathroom." Katsuki interrupted him unashamedly. Which only served to bring more heat to Izuku's cheeks. Oh god, he didn't just … didn't just mumble about that.

"Sure." Izuku croaked, "there's towels on the shelf." he added, unnecessarily, because Katsuki knew as well as him where the towels were stored in this house. He knew just about as much as Izuku knew about this house.

Katsuki left for the bathroom and Izuku couldn't blame him. Not much later, he heard the sounds of the shower turning on. And he lay there and listened to it, wallowing in his own embarrassment. When enough time had passed that he was sure Katsuki may come back into the room any moment, he finally heaved himself of his bed and went down into the kitchen. His face still felt flushed, that when he turned the corner into the kitchen, he was half afraid his mom would find him out and ask about it.

"Good morning." Izuku mumbled as he entered the kitchen.

Inko turned around to him and smiled, "Morning, my son. I've made pancakes. Won't you call Katsuki down?"

Instantly, like someone had just pressed a button that regulated the color of his face, Izuku flushed again. Quickly, he turned his head away from his mom, "He's in the shower right now." Hopefully, his voice sounded as unaffected as possible. He was currently concentrating hard on not letting himself remember what happened not quite fifteen minutes ago, so he didn't pay attention to whether his voice wavered.

"Already? It's a bit early for that, isn't it."

Izuku cleared his throat, "Oh yeah, it's probably a habit he's picked up from his job as a chef." He didn't even know if it made any sense. Did cooks rise early? He just had to say something quickly so they could abandon that array of thought right there.

To his luck, Inko seemed to be buying into his lie,"You're probably right."

Inko served him a plate of pancakes then, with fruit arranged at the side, and Izuku took his time chewing the bites to fully calm down himself down.

Belatedly, Katsuki got down to eat breakfast with them. Despite himself, Izuku noticed that Katsuki's predicament of earlier had …. been dealt with? Ceased to exist? Oh, he really should not be thinking about this. He could already feel his neck flush again. Katsuki had also put on his jeans from yesterday, which meant that they would at least not have to awkwardly get ready next to each other later.

They spent the morning in the same fashion they did the previous evening. They kept up pleasant, light conversation. Izuku would have thought his mom more inquisitive, would have thought she'd ask Katsuki more questions, but then again, she was also the type to forgive and forget and to quickly move on as long it had been established that everyone was okay.

The plan was to leave shortly after breakfast, so as they were sitting there, Izuku could tell that all of them were taking their time with the pancakes, stealing just some more minutes of the morning, before they would inevitably have to leave again.

Izuku was the last to finish his pancake, somehow, though it was delicious, he wasn't quite as hungry as he usually was in the mornings, he couldn't get the bites down. Maybe he was dreading the drive home, maybe he did not want to leave his mom so early again. Maybe it was a combination of both that stilted his hunger that morning. Nevertheless, it had to be done. Even if Izuku had a couple of vacation days he could make use of, Katsuki had to get back home. Even if it was just because he didn't have any clothes with him and couldn't spend a second night and a third day in the same t-shirt and pants. Eventually, when he was done, he went to put the plate into the dishwasher, wordlessly took up both his mother's and Katsuki's plates too, on his way there. Then he went up and put on the fresh outfit he'd packed.

When he came down again, Katsuki and his mother waited at the entrance to the hallway, already having said their goodbyes it seemed. Right before Izuku made to step past his mother, she held him back at his elbow. To Katsuki, Inko said, "Will you give us a moment?"

He nodded, "Izuku, I'll wait in the car." With those words, he left out of the door.

Inko visibly swallowed, and then she looked at Izuku for the first time with something akin to real sadness in her eyes. "I'm sorry Izuku. For all the things I've said to you about him. I had a lot to think about last night. It made me unable to sleep, because the moment that I closed my eyes, all of the times when you were right and I tried to convince you of the opposite came into my head. I was wrong. I was so wrong."

Izuku panicked the way he hadn't felt himself panic since he'd told his mom he would move to Tokyo and she sounded like this, too. The next thing that would happen was for her to cry, he couldn't have that. "Mom! How could you have known? Please, don't blame yourself." Holding her after happened on instinct, for his instinct was to comfort her.

"I couldn't have, but I still didn't behave correctly. Because you knew. I should have been there for you. Instead of calling you back to the shore, I should have jumped into the water, to swim with you and accompany you on your path. Instead, I let you swim alone for so long."

His throat tightening by the second. Had he still been sitting at the table eating the pancakes, he'd thought himself choking on them. He didn't know what to say, neither did he feel like he could talk if he tried to now.

"I know I haven't talked about this with you enough. And I want to change that." Inko lifted her hand to caress his cheek again, like she had done the night before. Izuku felt his throat spasm painfully when he tried swallowing past the lump. Inko had tears in her eyes, which made it hard for him to look at her. Something in his chest painfully squeezed at the sight. He should be the one to comfort her, and not the other way around. Only that, her words unlocked something inside of him. And now he felt like he was one of those airdancers they use to advertise stores with and someone has turned the hot air off on him. He was useless this instant. Completely deflated.

Inko averted her gaze for a second. When she faced him again, it was with resolution, "You were such a happy child, before it all happened. As your mother, I was so scared for you that all I did was try to get that happy child back, when I should have taken care of the sad one it had become."

He was at a loss for words. Speech failed him entirely. So he did something that did not require talking. Izuku leaned down and kissed her forehead, just like she had done with Katsuki the night before. He'd never been good at articulating with words what he felt, but he wanted to try now. When some time passed, Izuku said, "Mom. Thank you. And – don't worry about this any longer. You've done what you could, more than you ever should have, and I'm fine now." And he felt, that just these words were enough. They were everything she needed to hear, and everything he wanted to say. It wasn't quite true, but maybe it would be some day. For the first time, he felt positive that it could. 

When they remembered that Katsuki was still waiting outside, they said their goodbyes and parted ways, but not before Izuku promised to visit her again as soon as he could. He didn't say that he'd bring Katsuki along, and Inko didn't ask him to, yet it was a possibilty that hung heavily between them in the air, neither of them quite okay enough to reach for it. Once Izuku got into the car, Katsuki and him began the drive to leave their hometown.

Chapter Text

(Diary entry of seventeen year old Izuku)

Dear Diary,
more months have passed. Well, why am I saying it like that? The wording of that is misleading. Precisely, another year has passed. I don't have any reason to hide that.
​Nothing has changed. Katsuki is gone. Still. And I, too, am still just like I was twelve months ago, at the time of my last entry. As I've been since his disappearance.

Mom is nearing the end of what she's willing to tolerate from me, I can tell. Yesterday, she completely freaked out. That was the first time I ever saw her like that. I don't know what brought it on her. Yesterday was no different from all the days before, we were eating dinner together, so I didn't immediately pick up on the trigger, but perhaps it was exactly that. That I haven't yet changed.
Whatever it was, it triggered her, and all of a sudden she started going on a long yelling and crying rant about Katsuki. About how I need to pick myself up. Finally. That's the word she used. That she slung on me like a hammer. I need to do it finally, because it's the plausible thing. It's long overdue and I am being unreasonable. I'm standing in my own way.
Hearing her say all of that with the underlying imperative to leave Katsuki behind, I felt myself turning angry. It was an awkward sensation, for I hadn't experienced anything of similar nature in what feels like a lifetime.
Before that moment, all the weeks and months had played out tampered with. A mystery fog, a murky gray mass, clung to everything. Somehow. I had lost myself in it and despite how much I struggled, there was no getting out. As soon as Katsuki's name fell from her lips, which she hadn't spoken in so many months, it was like a fat swash of rain coming down into that blur of gray. Turning it wet and slippery so that I could rear my head.

The things she said … it boils my blood even just recalling it now. That day, they got me to freak out, too, eventually. Or should I say finally? As she had so carefully put it. I finally did something.
Funny how that is exactly what she wanted of me, but at that moment, it only acted like oil poured into a fire. No idea when's the last time that I had been this animated. When I had felt so much, but god, I – I felt so much. I couldn't hear a word more of it, her talking about him. She had to stop at that very instance. It was like a physical compulsion for me to get her to stop saying these horrible things. Everything inside of me striking against her words.

She didn't notice any of my anguish, going on as if nothing happened. With a force neither of us had reckoned with, she stood up on a whim. Her hip bumped into the table, which pushed it over the floor quite a bit. All of the cutlery on it waned. The soup splattered everywhere. Some of it even on my lap, still hot enough to hurt, but most of it ran over the tablecloths, spoiling them red forever.
She didn't care that she had hurt me, didn’t see any of it, like she was in some kind of trance, changed entirely. Not even I recognized her. Not at that moment.

She made no stops on her way to my room. Her heavy, energetic footsteps carrying her to it in a couple of breaths. When I reached it, the door was already torn open. For some reason, what she was doing didn't register with me, didn't want to get into my head, for the longest time. Since I had no idea what her plan was, I decided to wait out and see for myself.

On the entire way there, I'd been calling after her, but do you think she made even a single halt? No. It was as if she couldn't hear me. I'd say she ignored me on purpose, if it weren't for the fact that her raging had never stopped. She'd still talked about Katsuki. Tarnished his memory. As if he was just some – dead weight, a burden to let go off.

From somewhere, I have no idea where, she had gotten a trash bag. If doing this had been her plan the entire time, then it's likely that she'd even carried it to dinner. It would suit her.
One by one, I watched her collect seemingly random objects. I stood in the doorway, unmoving, and let her continue her crazy antics, so long until I understood exactly what was happening. It was at the stage of the bag being half full, when I realized that all these objects had once belonged to him. The birthday gifts that he'd given me. The only things he'd left behind.

"You have to forget him." Mechanically, she grabbed another thing to throw in the bag. I would have wondered how easily she could differentiate between what was his and what was mine, but I was too overcome with blind rage at that moment to care. "It's no longer healthy to grieve over him. And honestly, Izuku, as your mother I can no longer watch you at it, either."

I was speechless, or so I thought. Though her words had palpably swiped my mind clean, somehow, my mouth managed to move on its own without the instructions of my thoughts. I had no idea what I was saying until I heard it in real time just like her.

"How can… how can you say that?"

It was like I saw her with different eyes. Or more so, like I wasn't seeing my mom, but someone else entirely that looked like her, and sounded like her, but acted nothing like her, and didn't actually sound like her at all, at least not in the things that she was saying. Her outside had stayed the same, while someone had gone and replaced her character.
I have almost no words for how I felt in that instance. I find it hard to express. It was eerie, to look at her and feel a detachment. Not only between us, but also in the person that I've known her to be, and the person that she was right then. I was standing opposite a stranger in my bedroom. And said stranger was putting the only things that still had any sort of meaning to me in a trash bag to throw them away. One thing after another, with a carelessness that reminded most of someone picking up litter from the side of the road. It frightened me, not to recognize my own mother in the image of her.

Inside of me, something broke at the sight. And here I'd been, thinking that everything that could break inside of me already did so two years ago.
On an impulse, I was only acting on impulses that night, my hand reached forward, and grabbed the bag by the edge. I tried pulling it towards me.

"Those are my things. Give them back to me."

When she spoke this time, my mother's voice was conciliatory, maybe, because she had seen how hard my hand had trembled.

"Those are the belongings of a dead person. Do you hear me? Katsuki is gone. That's how it goes, honey, you cannot bring people back. No amount of grieve will turn them alive again." A heavy, burdened sigh escaped past her lips, in spite of her hard words, "I understand that he was your friend, but that being so, do you honestly think that he would want you to put your life on such a hold? You're seventeen honey, and you spent all of your free time in your room, where you're surrounded by all of his things all the time. That doesn't help you in moving on. And I'm not even saying we have to throw them away, but maybe we should put them somewhere where they're not constantly in your face. ​Like the storage."

"Oh, we are not throwing them away, that's for sure." If sound could cut through stone, then nothing of the wall at my moms back would have remained intact. There would be a gaping hole behind her now.
My words were hard, cutting as steel. I'd never talked to her like that before. If the circumstances had been different ones, I would have felt more than sorry. Only, I had felt so little in so many months, I was entirely guided by the single strongest emotion I was experiencing then. And it was anger.

"Go away now. Please."

The please was off-pitch and had been added with a delay. If my mom had noticed it, she didn't pay it any mind. I didn't let go of the bag.

"As you wish." The bag fell into my hands with all of its weight as she turned away. It wasn't heavy at all. My mom had almost gone through the door. For just a second, she remained at the frame to say, "But I expect you on your best behavior in return now. Your grades are important, even if you do your best to pretend that they don't matter. You're in your last year of High School. You need to do better. If you keep gloating from now on, I'll come back to collect these things. And then it will be a final goodbye, that’s a promise.” She finally turned her back to the door and made to leave, "Because you and Katsuki should have it."

I left what she said uncommented and she left me behind in my room. Presumably to gloat, as she had put it, when really, I seethed.

(Next entry, days later)

This conversation was some time ago now. Mom kept her promise. I couldn't keep up the improvement I pretended to have made for more than a few weeks.
Do you believe me when I tell you that I actually tried? I really tried. Since Katsuki disappeared, I've managed to keep Ochako and Iida from suspecting anything. And they know me better than my mother in some ways. So I had thought that maybe I could do it with her, too. If I made a genuine, honest effort to fool her. And yet she saw through me straight away.

The day before yesterday, when I was still at school, she went into my room and took everything. I didn't see it until I got home. Of course she didn't warn me beforehand. That first talk had been the warning.

I checked the storage immediately. Nothing. Then the basement. Her bedroom. Everywhere. Even the trash cans. In and outside the house. Frenzied as I was, I didn't even have time to put on gloves. And it was all for nothing, anyway. The things are gone.

In the last two days, I've only come out of my room when I absolutely had to. To use the bathroom and to eat and drink something. We haven't exchanged a word since then. I don't know if I can forgive that. It's as if she took him away from me a second time. And now he's gone forever. She erased him. I have nothing left anymore. Does she really think it's for the best? For my best?
I can hardly believe it, when I told her that this is the last thing that I want. The last thing I can handle.

I've cried non stop. And just now I've picked up this journal again. To make sense of things. Are you happy now, mom? That I'm using your gift to me in the intended way? To write about how much I hate you?

If Katsuki is still alive … then he's the cruelest friend I've ever had.
I still want him to come back.

Katsuki and his relationship took a turn after Christmas, just like Izuku had predicted. For thing was, he could not be mad at Katsuki anymore. When they had all gone to sleep the eve of Christmas, his anger had gone into hibernation. And Izuku doubted anything could happen that would wake it from that again.

In some way, it started to look like all the mess of the past years was beginning to disentangle, like some big knot he's been trying to undo for so long but never could, now, unwatched in the mental drawer he'd stuffed it into when he'd already given up hope, magically coming lose on its own accord.
It was ... beyond weird, to say the least. And scary. Scary most of all.

He didn't want to be so distrustful of the newest events, but it had become second nature to him to be anxious over positive change. Anxious that it could backfire spectacularly. For the better things became, the uglier they could turn again. And it always felt worse to be in the place that he was in when he'd returned there by coming down from a high.

Bonenkai season came full throttle, but apart from the almost-but-mandatory dinner party of his workplace Izuku didn't attend any more parties. Then New Year's Eve came and it went, and Izuku didn't have anything he really wanted to do or wished for, could not make up his mind, so he didn't wish for anything going into the new year. No expectations for himself or what may happen. No standards to rigidly hold himself up to. No dissappointment to reap after.

He's kept well on his promise to help Ochako with the wedding planning, and the next big thing that came up was the bachelorette party, which he organized for her with the help of her two appointed bridesmaids. The process of that had been less than ideal.

One of the maids was a woman named Toga Himiko. Blonde, and unfortunately fulfilling the stereotype of being crazy. Or, well, something not too far off from it. He'd had the 'pleasure' of meeting her a couple of times since Ochako and her became friends, when they hung out together as a group, but he wouldn't exactly claim to be close with her.

Izuku didn't really understand how the two of them had become friends, with how different they seemed. It was a ridiculous comparison, but whenever he thought about the pair of them too much, he was reminded of the cartoonish depiction of good and bad conscience. In that analogy, Ochako was the angel on the left shoulder and Toga the devil on the right one.
Maybe that's why they fit so well, them being two sides of the same coin.

Still, it didn't have to mean that he had to like Toga. Not past what was a general politness he directed to everyone indiscriminately. Toga was just … not for everyone, to put it nicely.

Luckily, the other bridesmaid he had to pull on board for this was far more agreeable. Asui Tsuyu was kind and pleasant, in that way the polar opposite of Toga. Plus, she had green hair, so Izuku might even be a little biased. It was a good thing that he was a lawyer, not a judge and therefore didn't need to be impartial, otherwise he'd probably get in trouble for that flaw of his at some point.

Tsuyu had been the fourth member of their High school friend group in a way, though she hadn't always hung out with them. In some years the contact had been closer than in others, as it often was with High school friendships, but despite that Izuku had always liked her. Obviously never more than now that her chill energy could balance out the hassle with Toga. At least he'd thought so.

Early in January, the three of them created a group chat to coordinate the organization and it might have just been the first group chat Izuku had been added to since High School. When he read their texts, he was instantly reminded of why that was. Group chats were the bane of his existence.

There was nothing worse than having to read 20+ spam messages of Toga and Tsuyu talking about each other's cats (including images that ate at Izuku's storage when he inevitably had to load them at work, on the off chance that it could actually have something to do with the wedding), when the only thing that he really wanted to do was finalize who to invite for the second location of the party and subsequently how many tickets they should preorder.

He now knew that Toga owned an ancient looking furry white cat she'd named Birdy (it was objectively odd to call an animal the name of another one), and Tsuyu owned two, Peach and Toad (which was also an animal name, but he had to cut Tsuyu some slack there, since her name choices were obviously a Mario reference).
Toad was black while Peach's fur was a maroon shade of brown, weirdly enough. Izuku couldn't remember ever having seen a brown cat before.

That day, they'd managed to get to him so he spend more time thinking about Tsuyu's damn cat than the task at hand, which was giving Ochako the bachelorette party she deserved. They were (as text evidence extensiveily showcased) robbing him of his last preserves of patience.

When the planning actually wrapped up and the bachelorette party took place just at the end of January, it came as a saving grace. God knew he couldn't take a single more day of the cat pictures. Izuku was too much of a dog person for it.

A limousine picked the entire ensemble up at their homes. One after the other, they crowded the vehicle. First him, then Tsuyu, Ochako, Toga, and lastly the rest of them, which Izuku had known by name, but not by face until today. Yuga Aoyama, Rikido Sato, Tokoyami Fumikage, Mezo Shoji, Mashirao Ojiro and Koji Koda, all either old college friends or newer work colleagues of Ochako's. Mostly, Toga had had her claws on the guest list.
Each of them quickly dropped on the last available seats inside the limousine.

Conversation was awkward at first, at least if Izuku was to be the judge of it. All of them talked with Ochako, of course, but there wasn't much transgression between the respective groups. The actors stuck with the actors, college mates with college mates, and Izuku was kind of left at the sideline of things, given that he was the only High School friend of hers, apart from Tsuyu, though she had grown pretty close with Toga in the weeks prior, so speaking with her much was out of the picture too. There were no breaks in between the flow of her and Toga's conversation.
While he sat next to Ochako and therefore could have taken up monopole of talking to her, he didn't want to make himself the center of her attention. So, mostly he stayed quiet.

It changed when they arrived in Roppongi, which had as big a reputation as Shibuya when it came to nightlife entertainment, though it was known as a bit less state of the art and a bit more as established mainstream.

The first destination of their planned bar hopping tour was a famous karaoke bar. Before any of the guests even took their coats off, they crowded the bar counter to get some drinks into their hands, as if they had silently unanimously agreed upon that on the car ride there. 

The bar sold fancy cocktails mostly. Cocktail cocktails this time, not the weird stuff that Katsuki and his coworkers had served at the business dinner. This night was thankfully not tormented by any red repentances. A true fortune, for there was nothing that Izuku wanted Ochako to repent for on her special night.

When Ochako put her blazer to rest after, that's when Izuku first caught a real view of her bachelorette outfit. A beautiful cocktail dress that had to consist only of pink glittering sequins and nothing more. A veritable small lightshow blazed when she swirled around. The dress seemed to be held together not by physics – at least none of the rules that Izuku had been taught about in High School – but the power of her conviction in it and the magic of the night.

At that point, a genuine effort was made to turn the individual chatters into one big group conversation. Two men, Izuku identified as Koda and Shoji, volunteered with a duet as the first Karaoke performers of the evening. Their voices turned out to be surprisingly musical and harmonious. College friends or work friends, Izuku didn't know, but based on that, he guessed the latter. It's to the backdrop of their sound that the remaining people of the group drank and talked.
Organically, they had arranged into a circle in the sitting arrangements of the lounge. Most of them placed on the sofa, with Ochako right in the middle, while few sat in the chaise lounges off to the sides of it.

"Shall we all introduce ourselves first?" Toga started, with a smile playing at her lips that must seem friendly to most people, but which Izuku himself had never been completely comfortable with. It possessed a notable feline quality, and if Toga wanted to, she made you feel that.

One by one, they all introduced themselves. While revealing their professions, answers ranged from actors, no surprise there, to Karate teacher. When it was Toga's turn to introduce herself, she suspiciously left out the part of what she worked as.
Izuku had picked up on that before, that she always made a mystery out of her job.

When it was Izuku's turn to introduce himself, he made it quick, grazed the points that everyone knew of him. Lawyer. Age. Ochako's best friend since school days.

Then Ochako finished, "While I don't have to introduce myself technically, I'll still do it." She grinned. "I'm the bachelorette in question. And who knows, I might just get to introduce myself as a newlywed and wife soon. Suppose I'll have a different name then too, don't I?"

"Ochako Iida," Tsuyu mused, "does have a ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Wow, that means you'll officially be part of the infamous Iida clan." Sato said, oblivious to what he's put his foot into just now.

A cascade broke loose, which wasn't to be stopped. Different party members offered their supporting thoughts.

"Played and mastered the game of life then."

"Started from the bottom, now you're there."

"You've won the ultimate game of monopoly."

What was special about the Iida family was that they had never been just a sensation in their hometown and the adjacent villages, because the place was so rural and they were the only people who's wealth went past a certain threshold. No, the Iidas were a clan of decade-standing tradition, known in all of Japan.
To the public, they were not just rich, but rather than that, famous philanthropists who had made a name for themselves with their support of human rights- and social causes. In short, they enjoyed a particular, unshakeable reputation. And that was precisely the problem with reputations. With enough time passing, that's all people knew you by. Who you really were ceased to matter.

Ochako knew better. Only she knew of just how hard it actually was to earn their respect and approval. How high nose the Iidas were behind closed doors, off charity events.

This was not one of Ochako's favorite topics and Izuku knew it. It was possible that no one but him knew how many problems had existed for her with them. That the Iida family had possessed no shame in showing her how little they were pleased with her son's choice in partner.
So Izuku quickly got to work on changing the subject.

"Lets play a drinking game."

"Sure." Ochako agreed before anyone else had the chance to say something. She flashed him a quick, subtly grateful look. Encouragingly, he smiled back.

Now that Ochako had made it clear that she wanted to do this, the others had no choice but to agree. So expectedly, one after the other, everyone voiced their approval.

"Ochako starts!" Rikido said decisively.

Ochako held her glass of Piña Colada against her forehead, coating it in condensation in the wake, "Why me guys?"

No one answered directly, which was perhaps answer enough. It just had to be the bachelorette.

"Okay. What should we play?" She gave in, when the silence had stretched for a couple of seconds.

"Truth or dare?" Ayoama suggested.

"Never have I ever?" Tsuyu asked.

The second option elicited more cheers.

"Never have I ever it is." Ochako concluded.

Despite having suggested it in the first place, Izuku didn't like drinking games. He didn't think them juvenile as much as he just didn't see himself as the type of person to play such games. He did not enjoy revealing stuff about himself, even less so when said stuff happened to be some of the most intimate details of his personal life, and the people on the receiving end of that information were effective strangers to him.
As a lawyer, he supposed he should have an easier time lying about it, but Izuku wasn't quite living up to the task in that regard.

Ochako came up with something after a short contemplation, "Never have I ever … drunkenly texted an ex."

Some people drank, Ochako included. Rookie mistake of her to say something to which she would also have to drink. Their college days really lay that far in the past, huh?

Her drinking elicited some odd looks from the party crowd. Tsuyu asked what was probably on everyone's mind, "Who did you date apart from Iida?"

"It was Iida. Remember that time in college when we had this huge fight? Yeah, we had actually ended things for a couple of days. Until I couldn't take it anymore and texted him drunkenly on a night out to profess him my undying love anew."

"That is sooo lame." Toga booed.

"Whatever, it worked, didnt it?" Ochako replied defensively.

"Okay, next person is Toga." Sato said challengingly, "If you think her answer was lame, treat us to something better."

Toga didn't need much time to come up with something, "Never have I ever … slept with someone who was already in a relationship."

No one drank for the first couple of seconds. Then Koda raised his hand to ask, "Knowingly or unkowningly?"

"Both." Toga said, which had him drink and subseqently everyone else in shock.

"It was a one night stand and she didn't tell me. She said she had a roommate. Well, the next morning the 'roommate' came back and was decidedly not amused to find me in their shared bed."

"Koda, you're a womanizer."

"You're an animal."

"A menace."

Koda looked more embarrassed than proud when the men of the round clapped his shoulder, either in approval or as a joke, Izuku didn't know them well enough to say for certain.

Regularly while they were drinking, people got up to sing a song. Izuku suspected that it was due to them wanting to avoid the embarrassment that awaited them when they'd come to face a question they didn't want to answer.

If Izuku could even remotely bear the thought of singing in front of all those people, he would do the same. Ayoama had just said goodbye.

Eventually, it was Izuku's turn to think of a never have I ever experience. So he decided to be mean and name one that he knew Ochako would have to answer yes to, but not before taking another sip of his beer.

"Never ever have I had sex at my workplace."

The second he had finished speaking, Ochako threw him a withering glare. She knew that he had said this fully intending to expose her, in front of the coworkers of hers present here tonight no less.

She drank, predictably. So did Toga and … Fumikage. With Toga, her behavior once again raised the question of what she actually did for a living, but he wasn't really surprised to see her drinking. It was different with Fumikage. Not because Izuku didn't think he was capable of it, but because it suggested that there might be a pattern among actors.

"Where do you find the space for that?" Izuku asked incredulously, "Where on the set are you not surrounded by a thousand eyes and cameras?"

"You're forgetting that we were not always on the screen. As staff members you know a secluded place or two." Ochako winked at him and tipped her glass, as if to toast on the old memory.

"I am very familiar with the shadows." Fumikage offered as a brief statement in her support, which sounded so ominous that immediately some of the party crowd started laughing.

"Okay, Lord of Darkness." Ojiro hugged his shoulder brotherly, shaking him in with the impact.

At some point the party games died down. Then it was just about drinking cocktails and singing, now that everyone was actually drunk enough for it. Everyone except Izuku. He doubted that there even was such a point for him. That he could ever be so drunk that karaoke seemed like a good idea.
Ochako did try to persuade him at times, but he remained steadfast, so eventually she curbed the effort.

Toga and her were having enough fun together as was, singing Unravel, the intro from Tokyo Ghoul, while he sat back, forced to listen to them butchering every note while at it. It's like they had personal beef with that song. When the next one came on, not quite so demanding of their vocal cords, they sounded better, even if just a little.
He'd always found it funny that Ochako was a hell of an actress, but couldn't sing a single straight note. One would think these things went hand in hand.

The others conversed with each other again. Izuku had noticed however that Tsuyu remained mostly quiet in all of it. It was no wonder given that she was the only other High School friend of Ochako at the party.

Izuku sat back because he was not man enough to sing karaoke, but he did wonder why Tsuyu didn't seem all that interested in joining the two harpies when they had more than once tried to get her to chime into in their song. Though he couldn't exactly blame her for not jumping at the chance to become a part of it. For a person that didn't know the song or understood Japanese, it must sound closest to an auditive demon summoning ritual.

"So, karaoke doesn't do it for you, either?” He guessed, after he had crossed the little space of he lounge to sit next to her.

Tsuyu turned to him and nodded, "Right in the bull's eye. What gave me away?"

"Same thing that tells on me. When we were playing never have I ever, you and I were the only ones that chose not to jump the ship and save ourselves by singing."

Tsuyu scoffed, "I just don't do well with the high notes. I'm pretty sure my voice manslaughters them."

"Manslaughters them?" Izuku laughed in surprise, "Just what makes you this sure?"

"Brace yourself, this is where I tell you of my sad karaoke experience that fundamentally changed me as a person." Her gaze was steady and unrelenting, giving the impression that she was entirely serious about her words, while her mouth was pulled into an amused smile, which told him that she wasn't actually.

"Changed you, from someone who sings karaoke to – someone who doesn't?" Izuku joked back.

"Be nice. Or I wont tell it." She snorted.

He did her the favor of shutting up, even going as far as miming to zip his mouth closed.

Tsuyu took another sip of her non-alcoholic beer before she began to tell her story. "I tried karaoke only that one time in High School when a group of girls I was friends with invited me to join them and some other boys. I just agreed to come because my crush was among them. While at it, I thought I was giving them a total show, that is, after I got over my fear of making a fool of myself. I sang my favorite song, Rude Boy. I knew the lyrics to it like the back of my own hand. When I had finished it, a friend of mine took me aside and told me that I have the voice of a quaking frog and that if I really want to have a chance at impressing my crush, I should try anything, just anything really that doesn't involve singing. I never gave it another try after that day." By the end of her retelling, there was a positivity to denote in her tone, almost like she had revisited a fond memory.

Izuku could see why that experience had changed her. That was bad friendship etiquette, if he'd ever seen it. There was no fault in being honest, but being quite so blunt about it, was also uncalled for. He laughed once dryly, before shaking his head, "Do I know the person who said that? I hope the friendship ended not long after that day. That's, like, a shitty thing to say to someone you're friends with." The chances of him knowing the person weren't so bad. Izuku still vaguely remembered most of their old classmates.

Tsuyu's smile strechted wider, "Oh I think you do. She's actually the lady in pink over there, killing the notes to Your Best American Girl like a duck in a slaughterhouse."

For a second Izuku was speechless, then he burst out into a real laugh, almost dropping his drink as he shook with the waves of it. "I take back what I said. Glad that you stayed friends then." Of course Ochako had been the one to say this to her. High School her had been ruthless.

"And what about you?" Tsuyu asked, "Do you also sound like an animal when you sing karaoke?"

He gave that question a genuine consideration for a moment, trying to remember the last time he's sung something, anything, "I think my singing voice comes closest to the sound tires make when scraping over concrete. So … not that pleasant, either."

"I dunno. I feel like that sound could make a mean ASMR trigger."

"The person that will find my singing voice pleasant is the first apostle of the apocalypse." He deadpanned, "A definite sign that the end is near."

The party went on after that effortlessly, like a tire rolling down a hill. Entirely self-assisting, as partys do. So when nobody paid attention to him, Izuku snuck off to take a selfie with the pink cowboy hat him and the bridesmaids had bought for the entire ensemble, which was the official bachelorette uniform of the night. Then he sent the photo he'd just taken to Katsuki with the caption: Guess what I'm doing.

Katsuki's reply came fast.
Night out at the strip club and they let you do a guest performance on stage?

Izuku had to supress a laugh. He wanted to answer right away, but a second text arrived just then.

I’m adding one by guessing that your stage name is freckles.

Izuku replied. Wrong. Almost right, but wrong. I actually work here part time as a side gig. Very common in my profession. Law firm doesn't pay so well, I'll have you know.

How could I not have figured? Katsuki texted back theatrically. I knew those dance moves had to come from somewhere.

This prompted Izuku into raising an eyebrow, and contemplated sending such an emoji to Katsuki. You've never seen me dance? He typed. And it was true, Katsuki had never gotten the opportunity to see him dance in the little time they'd seen each other since October last year.

It took a while before Katsuki's reply came. The text was a bit longer, which explained the time it had taken to compose it.

Shoto's had quite the impression of you of when you guys met. The first text arrived.
He's finally warmed up to the idea of telling me minor things about your time together, starting with the night you met. And what can I say, now he's told me a tale or two.

Curse Shoto. Izuku would have to tell him off soon. Just when he'd thought he'd found an ally in him, Shoto must backstab him like this?

Izuku transformed his not quite fake frustration into a snarky, cheeky remark. I can't believe he'd kiss and tell.

Oh, you thought he was a gentleman? You could almost but read Katsuki's fun at clowning Shoto.

Izuku rolled his eyes. A knight in white armor, more like.

They were doing this now. Chatting. And not just to detemine when to next meet up. No, they were joking around. As if they were two normal guys in their twenties. As if they were not who they were. And who they were for each other. Not Katsuki, the boy gone missing. And Izuku, the boy that had lost not just his best friend, but also himself somewhere down the line. Since Christmas, Katsuki and him were trying something new, which was cosplaying at normal.

It was little chats like these that they kept having these days. Izuku had finally stopped throwing out punches. And he was doing better this way, he thought. He was still mad at Katsuki, but anger was so – theoretical now. Theoretically, he was mad at Katsuki. Theoretically, he was really overwhelmed with all the things going on at any given moment. Theoretically, he had no idea where any of this was heading and it scared him. But in reality, on a day to day basis, no, at a moment's level, all he knew was that ... texting Katsuki didn't hurt. It felt good, even. Izuku was finally allowing himself to breathe, instead of choking on his anger like he'd done before. Which, as an obvious side effect, resulted in making texting Katsuki easier, hence the joking and teasing around.

At a moment's level, he could just feel grateful to have Katsuki back in his life. The person that had once been closer than a best friend. Even if Izuku had no idea what he'd feel like at the next moment, he could still attest that at the current one, he was okay with how things were playing out. And perhaps that was the key to things. To how a tricky situation could be navigated. Salvaged.
When you found yourself stranded in the middle of the ocean, the objective truely was to always just worry about the next wave, and not whether you'd ever find shore again.

And Katsuki didn't push him. Didn't ask him when they would meet again. It's been a month since Christmas, so another meet up was well overdue going by the past intervals in which they had met up so far, yet Katsuki had not brought the question up. Maybe he could tell now that it was a sure thing and Izuku would not decide to change his mind alltogether. That Izuku needed the meet ups, just like him, albeit for different reasons.

Things were going smoothly. Smoother than Izuku would have ever thought them capable of. The problem was no longer their interaction, but rather that it was going so well that Izuku found himself increasingly thinking about Katsuki, and seeking him out. To a degree he simply hadn't before.
A development that worried him. But worrying was nothing new to Izuku and hadn't been for a whole while. The desire to put an end to it all had so far not materialized therefore.

They didn't text for much longer. And once they wrapped up, Izuku rejoined the party machinations. Just in time, for they shortly after decided turn karaoke their backs and to hop over to the next party destination.

The party committee, you might as well say just Izuku, since he had been the only one actually interested in doing the work, had arranged for the next stop on their Shibuya nightlife tour to be a mixed gendered host and hostess club.

Ochako seemed innocent enough, but she actually loved stuff like that. Plus, Izuku had no insight on the process of, but somehow Toga had managed to get them all tickets for perhaps the most exclusive store in the business of their city. She'd presented them with an offer the party comittee simply couldn't have refused. A hefty discount, which Izuku had accepted like he knew Ochako would have wanted him to, since growing up on a tight budget had made her even more frugal than him.

Izuku suspected Toga's negotiating skills and leeway came from the fact that she may have worked there or even still did, but he'd have to actually get to know her in order to find out. So, clearly, it was doomed to forever remain a mystery to him.

The club was a small palace in the heart of a sketchy looking corner of Shibuya. From the outside, Izuku was reluctant to admit, it looked anything but trustworthy. Perhaps it was the bad reputation attached to these establishments, which he hadn't until now realized mattered so much to him, that had influenced him in the matter.

The interior of the store however dispelled any doubts. The walls of the lobby were covered in vast mirrors, which made the room seem about ten times bigger than it probably was.
A huge, imposing chandelier hung from a high ceiling above them and cast a thousand small colorful triangles and squares onto the black and white checkered floor. When it came in contact with Ochako's dress, the light display was breathtaking.
Behind the counter sat an employee, with whom Izuku registered the group together with Tsuyu and Toga. Since they were well on time, everything proceeded as planned.

Immediately afterwards, they were let into the adjacent room, the lobby, where the available hosts were located. If the reception area had been the throne hall, then this room was the ballroom. All members of the party immediately started talking to the hosts to sound them out. Sato and Mezo perhaps not so surprisingly taking up the same one.

The bridesmaids and him had the option to arrange the pairings in advance, but had all thought it more fun for everyone to fight on it themselves on the spot.

Izuku was supposed to do that too, talk to the hosts to see who he thought would be most comfortable spending time with, but to be really honest he didn't care too much. Every host would give him the exact same experience, that of a tolerable, moderately effortful conversation, so he was fine with leaving the choice completely to chance.

If he had to admit it, his mind was still on Katsuki. Rapt in thought, he didn't at first notice when Ochako approached him. It was the first time that night for them to be alone. He hadn't even noticed that she, like him, didn't immediately start chatting up the hosts.

"The party's really great." She spoke softly, smiled her wide smile, and touched his hand in affection. "Thank you."

Her cowgirl hat had slipped slightly onto her forehead and strands of her brown hair were falling half into her face. This way, she looked completely different than she had in the last few weeks, when the stress of the wedding had left its mark on her. She seemed like a wild 25 year old woman again.
They had both sobered up a bit since the short walk here.

"Not for that." He didn't say it, but he was glad to see that she could look so carefree again.

She lay her head on his arm. With her being a little shorter than him, her head barely reached his shoulder. Her fingers wrapped around his upper arm and he hugged her from the side in turn. "You just knew exactly what I needed. A night without responsibilities and worries and tasks waiting to be done. Things that need to be arranged and picked up." She exhaled heavily. "I'm so excited about the wedding, but– nobody ever says weddings are easy. And I'm starting to see why."

Izuku snorted in agreement. He didn't even get hit by the crossfire of the wedding, more like grazed by a stray bullet or two, but regardless, he'd felt it too.

"I'm glad you like the wedding. Enjoy the party tonight because after this you'll never get another chance like this." He'd added a discerneable undertone of doom to his voice, while fighting off a smile.

"What do you mean?" Her grip around his biceps tightened slightly. 

The smile was only growing more stubborn, and he let it break out, "I mean, come on, you're getting married. I'm pretty sure you'll officially count as ancient by then."

She brought a bit of space between them to look up at him affronted. "I am twenty-five for your information."

Izuku put a finger on his chin to mime deep philosophical contemplation, "There comes a time in life when age is more of a concept, you know. By that point, your biological age doesn’t factor in much. Once you're married, that means you're an adult. This will change you inevitably, to being more mature than all of us. More responsible-" he pretended to shiver in discomfort at that word, "I can see it coming. You won't go to the club anymore because that's only for the 'unfortunate unmarried', whom you're no longer a part of. You won't go out to eat anymore because you and your husband eat dinner together. You'll spend each Saturday night on the couch with him, because weekends are for 're-energizing'. Like I said, you'll be old."

Ochako moved away from him fully to pinch his side jokingly, "Shut up, honestly."

He had to parry to the side to evade her ministrations, all while saying, "And yet I don't hear you contradicting me."

She shook her head in amusement, "Why should I? You're describing my dreams." And instead of shooting him another tease, she was silent for a moment, before saying, "I was thinking we should have one host together."

"Uncommon, but sure, I'm down. Why though?" He drew his brows together.

"Well, it's not appropriate for a taken woman to do something like that. I'll need you as a a chaperone and witness later so you can assure Iida that I haven't done anything indecent and thereby ill-fating our impending alliance." She explained her reasoning to him, and it was only because Izuku noticed how much she loved playing this role, that he let her have her fun with it, without dunking on her for being objectively lame. Though it took some effort on his part.

"Now wouldn't that be uncouth?" He played into the joke.

They had to clear their decision with the organizers first, which Izuku did for both of them. They were allowed to do it, which he suspected had more to do with there not being an official rule stating against it, rather than them liking to see it, given that he still got a few strange looks from the staff on his way back.
It really was rather unusual to ask if you could share a host voluntarily. Most people preferred their hosts undivided attention and their time together to be private.

It went without saying that Ochako would choose their host or hostess. Still, she took out the freedom to lecture Izuku on what she thought of each option available. Even if Ochako weren't like him bisexual, he wouldn't have minded letting her choose.

Ochako raved about the female hosts much more and more openly than Izuku even, which came as no surprise to him.

"She is truly to die for." Ochako commented on a hostess that had just walked past her. And he had to give her that, the hostess really was beautiful. Long black hair, dark red suit. Complimenting, nice blush on her fawn cheeks.

"Does your future husband know how you talk about strangers?" Izuku joked and pretended to be scandalized. She had started that particular joke, after all, so it was only fair play for him to tease her about it.

"Who do you think I'm sharing these thoughts with when you're not around?" The corner of Ochako's mouth quirked, but she didn’t take her eyes off the host.

"Well, I had certainly not considered that." He fell silent for a moment, until another question occurred to him. "Does that mean you talk to him about his hot doctor coworkers too?"

"It could rival Grey's anatomy in there. How could I not?" She shook her head, which elicited a laugh out of him.

"Do you also give them monikers? What's the local equivalent of McSteamy?"

"Well, my fiancé, of course, who else could it be? Why are you asking though?" She squinted her eyes at him, "Has the promised day come? Are you finally allowing me to set you up with someone?"
Before he could answer her, she fired another question at him, "Also, asking about McSteamy instead of McDreamy, don't tell me your type is big burly men?"

"No, completely wrong direction. Utterly cold. Arctic even. But aside from that, I just realized that this means you tricked me into sharing a host with you. 'Witness' my ass. I'm probably just supposed to attest how hot the person was when you're going to tell Iida all about it." He cocked his head at her.

"If you let yourself be fooled that easily." Ochako laughed, "Well, what do lawyers always say? Guilty as charged."

"Ideally, we'd say the opposite. Let's not operate on the assumption that a crime did take place, shan't we? Besides, I'm neither a judge, nor a criminal defense attorney, so I wouldn't get to say that line anyway. I handle disputes. Mostly off court, too."

"You know what you're good at, too? You can ruin anyone's fun." She playfully punched him in the arm.

"I'm just trying to honor the image of my profession." He joked dryly.

"Asshole and lawyer kind of are synonyms, I guess you're right." She mused.

Eventually, Ochako's choice landed on a pretty hostess a couple of years older than them, with a voluminous blonde wig curled at the ends. Her elegant and simple cut dress was creme colored with purple accents. Her name, as she told them when they left off to the single cafe rooms where the dinner started, was Yusan, meaning Yu Mountain.

Yusan, it turned out, was a skillful hostess. She knew how to do her job, a master of her craft. In no time, she had Ochako and Izuku engaged in a conversation that was far more intimate than usual for a first conversation between strangers.
In part, it could probably also be attributed to the alcohol loosening their tongues.

Ochako thrived in the conversation. And Izuku loved to see it. They talked about all sorts of things: Ochako's job as an actress. Her favorite colleagues, her idols. Her upcoming wedding, as well as all of her past relationships.
Izuku was only ever involved in the conversation to the extent that he could and had to offer supporting anecdotes here and there.

That's why it caught him off guard when Yusan started asking him the same questions as Ochako.

"So, who do you like?"

Ochako answered for him, before he even got to open his mouth, "Oh, he likes burly men. Bears, isn't that what you call them?"

"Ochako, shut up." He threw their hostess an apologetic look, "Excuse the choice of words."
Somehow, Yusan felt like a member of better society, almost like modern royalty (not that Izuku supported such institutions), which was to say, that she was really good at her job. It seemed improper to talk so crudely around her. He allowed himself another moment to think, then shrugged his shoulders, "I mean, I don't realy have a type. I'm also bisexual, for that matter."

A knowing smile spread on Yusan's lips, "So, you like anyone who's attractive?"

"I guess so, yeah. When someone's attractive, that's something you can't deny. And that's that, right?"

Yusan pursed her lips in something like impatience, "That's not enough for me yet. I‘m good at figuring people out, you know. One of my more pronounced talents. And usually, I can read someones every desire from their lips. With you, though, I have to look deep into your eyes to even recognize anything." True to her words, she looked at him for a long time. "Maybe you have a thing for pretty people?"

Izuku inevitably thought of Shoto. It was true. There was no denying that Shoto was very handsome. Even beautiful. And Mei too. But weren't women always like that?
Maybe he did like pretty people then after all.

"Perchance."

"You can't just say perchance." Ochako chastised him, "Either you like them or you don't. Take me as an example. I like fems, I like mascs and I like whatever falls in between that. With men, there's only really one type that I like. Men like Iida. Tall and good looking, in the typical, classical sense of the word. Nothing wrong with knowing what you like."

"Okay. Sure. I like pretty people." Izuku took a sip from the Matcha they had ordered.

"Perchance," Yusan started with a wink, "you're even seeing someone right now?" She said it as if she'd already figured out every one of Izuku's secrets. And while she wasn't hitting the bulls eye, it still freaked him how close to the truth she managed to get.

Inevitably, he had to think of Shoto again. And for the first time, he realized that he hadn't even told Ochako about him yet. Well, and doing so right now was also a bit late, too, given that they had broken up again last month.

"No, there's no one." He shook his head, "We ended things some weeks ago."

When he saw Ochako giving him a questioning look after she had done the math in her head and realized that the equation didn't come out at where Mei and him had broken up, he explained, more for her than for Yusan, "Someone new. We met the day we went to that bar in Shibuya."

Ochako nodded. She didn't seem offended that he had brought it up only now. Nevertheless, he continued, "It wasn't anything serious. We're friends now."

"Friends can sometimes treat us better than a lover ever could. There are times in life when a shoulder to cry on is better than the crook of a neck to cry into."

When he and Ochako realized the meaning of this unusual fortune cookie wisdom, they both started laughing out loud. Perhaps, Yusan was right about this. Though only time would tell.

The party night ended in a slumber party. Ochako hosted the two bridesmaids and him at her and Iidas place. Iida was still at the hospital, working a night shift, so the house was dark when they got there.

But no one was ready to go to bed yet. They all gathered in the small kitchen and prepared one last snack. It was maybe three in the morning. Izuku hadn't looked at the clock in a while. They chatted nonstop, and this time the conversations were more intimate. Ochako's inner circle was gathered around her, and that seemed to be causing her to let her true thoughts run free. Toga had brought up the subject: What it would be like once Ochako was married. What would happen afterward.

At first, Izuku listened. He wanted to be there for Ochako, but when they talked about how many children Ochako wanted to have with Iida and how quickly they wanted to get things started, Izuku had to back out.

He excused himself by saying he was going to the bathroom, but in reality he disappeared onto the living room balcony and closed the sliding door behind him.

On the balcony, the only light was a lamp on the wall, which he'd turned on when he had come out. Otherwise, it was dark. In the far distance, however, the city lights were ligned up on the horizon like a row of small, blurry candles.
While Ochako and Iida lived in Shibuya like him, their flat happened to be in one of the few suburban areas where you could still find peace and quiet from the hustle and bustle. The difference to Izuku's own neighborhood was like night and day. The streets in front of his own apartment complex were never quiet, and the traffic never stopped.
Right now, this atmosphere was a bit like a dream.

Izuku walked all the way to the railing, passing the balcony table on which there was a half-filled ashtray. For a brief moment, he wondered who might have smoked it, because as far as he knew, neither Ochako nor Iida smoked, then he looked away again, leaned against the railing, and took his phone out of his pocket.
Then he wrote Katsuki again.

No matter how hard Izuku was currently working to be there for Ochako, his initial feelings hadn't changed. This wedding was still taking its toll on him. Even if he didn't want it to. Even though he was happy for his two closest friends and longest-standing friendships. He needed a distraction right now.

Hey

It took almost no time for a reply to show.

Two messages in one day, shuold I be worried?

I can go offline again right away…

Stay a little longer. It's not even late yet.

Which was obviously sarcasm. It was three in the morning. Izuku was still awake because the party had gone on for so long, but what about Katsuki?
Why are you still awake though?

I wasn't.

Did I wake you?

No, not really, I just couldn’t quite sleep. And just now, I woke up and happened to see your message by chance.

As always, every answer that Katsuki gave him provoked questions. So Izuku asked, Do you have insomnia? Because he figured he might as well. The game was still on, wasn't it?

No. And Katsuki added a winking emoji to that message. Not the regular one, but the typed out one.
How about you tell me why you messaged?

Maybe Izuku was still a little drunk. No, he was definitely still a little drunk. Because in his next message he was honest, not only that, he was unnecessarily brazen.

Cause I wanted to see if you would answer.

You mean because it's this late?

No, I meant in general. Izuku thought of how to word what he wanted to say for a moment before he started typing. The longer message also took quite a bit more brain to finger coordination.
It's strange to know that I can now talk to you whenever I want. One message and you're there, ready to answer any questions I have. I couldn't stop myself from trying it out.

Like scab you couldn't help picking at.

The message that came in next didn't surprise him. 

What if I had only answered in the morning?

Then I would have had to wait until tomorrow.

But would he have known that Katsuki would answer? Izuku couldn't say that, even though he's been asking himself that question since Christmas.
So far, Katsuki had done so. And Izuku really didn't want to question it, but he didn't have a killer argument to shut down the discussion immediately whenever the doubts crowded his mind. So he wasn't always able to drop the thought as soon as it came up. Whatever.

By that point Izuku knew he wanted to see Katsuki again very soon. So the next thing he wrote was that and they arranged another meeting. And then it's a done deal. Izuku went back inside after that. It's gotten quite chilly on the balcony by now.

The party ended shortly afterwards. Everyone got ready for bed and then went to sleep. While Toga and Tsuyu shared the guest room, Ochako and Izuku slept in the same bed in her bedroom. It made sense that he slept there because Ochako would probably be most comfortable with it out of everyone else. Unlike him at Christmas, Ochako had a double bed, so it was not cramped when they shared it.
And when they woke up in the morning, they were not entangled in each other's arms.

Chapter Text

Just some hours later, some time earlier than the others, Izuku woke up. When he opened his eyes and found Ochako fast asleep next to him, he was not surprised. He was rather experienced in shouldering hangover recovery, after all. Those couple of drinks hadn't gotten to him yesterday. And today, he felt no different from any other day.

Without waking Ochako, he made to stand up from the bed and left the bedroom on his tiptoes, careful not to close the door too harshly on his way out.

In the kitchen, he took the liberty of making himself a bowl of cereal. The cabinet stacked only the most sugary stuff, fruit loops and the likes, which meant that it must have been stocked up by Ochako. Iida was full on the health trip. It was out of question that he'd ever eat something this processed.

The peace and quiet of Izuku's morning hours was disturbed only when a stern voice echoed from the hallway to him, coming closer by the word.

"I hear you slept in the same bed as my fiancé?"

Iida came to stand in the doorway of the kitchen, and Izuku's heart sank. He almost choked on his breakfast when Iida's words fully settled. "I– I'm-"

The tense expression slipped off of Iida's face in the span of a second, to make space for a jovial smile, broader than the early hour really warranted, "I'm just kidding, Izuku."

Oh, of course he was. Izuku had never pegged Iida as the jealous type. Of his girlfriends, or more so, his one girlfriend, as he's only really ever had Ochako, he'd always been as sure of as the Krebs cycle. And that was really saying something, Izuku had been told once. By him.

"Well, you sure got me with that."

The night shift must have ended almost an hour ago. The kitchen was presumably Iida's last pit stop before heading to bed all together. Izuku couldn't blame him, since he remembered the hospital food he'd been served the last time he'd paid an involuntary visit.

In rapid steps, Iida moved from the doorway. And in passing Izuku for the fridge, left a fleeting, yet firm squeeze on his arm.

"It's nice that I could still catch you before you leave. We see each other too little these days. No comparison to our college days, right?"

"Yeah." Izuku hurriedly swallowed his last spoonful and felt a fruit loop painfully catch in his throat. "And you did come at a good time. It would have been uncomfortable trying to make fit with the people in that bed if you'd returned earlier."
When things got serious, he usually made jokes. Just like now.

"I would have kicked you off the edge of the bed if that had happened, don't even get your hopes up. I'm not that chill with my girlfriend." Tenya scoffed and Izuku suppressed a snort.

The rest of the morning, they spent catching up. Updates for both of them usually revolved around work stuff and little more. In that respect, Izuku had always thought them to be very similar. They both rarely had anything personal to share. This morning however, deviating from their previous pattern, Iida changed the subject to the wedding. "I wanted to thank you for helping Chako with the preparations."

"It's really no trouble." Izuku said reassuringly, "Just don't be mad if I encourage Ochako too much and you end up having to listen to ten Billy Joel songs once the slow dancing starts."

A lopsided smile started to lift the corners of Iida's mouth, but he quickly recovered his serious expression.

"I mean it, Izuku. I'm the one who's supposed to do all of this actually." His voice trailed off, like an engine coming to a halt, and he took off his glasses to lay them folded on the table.
His bare face made him look oddly vulnerable then. It wasn't a sight of him Izuku was too familiar with.

"I'm a pretty lousy fiancé and groom, huh? Let's hope I'm better as her husband."

Izuku frowned, "You're not serious, are you?"

Iida didn't give his question an answer.

The chair squeaked slightly as Izuku leaned back further in it to face Iida. "Ochako knows how much you mean to her. Knows that, if she asked you to quit your job right now and never set foot into another hospital again, you would. Without hesitation. Without asking for her reasons beforehand.
But she would never do that, because she knows how much your job means to you. And she supports you in that. She always has. The wedding is a challenge, but it's one that you will both come out of unscathed."

For a moment, Iida let the words sink in. Then he picked up the glasses again. His thumb and index finger opened and closed the holders absentmindedly, while he said, "Thank you, Izuku. You're ... a really good friend."

A heavy silence followed that statement. It stood in juxtaposition with how Izuku had imagined this morning to play out. Still, Izuku didn't say anything else. It wasn't a silence that had to be filled. He ate the rest of his cereal and Iida ate the high in fiber avocado egg sandwich he had taken out of the fridge.

Only when Izuku was finished with his bowl did he ask, "Has Tensei contacted you yet?"

Iida's mouth tightened. "Yes. He'll come. As my best man."

"That's great, right?"

"Let's hope so. He didn't sound particularly sure. He said he couldn't promise." Iida rubbed one hand over his face, the gesture revealing more than just his obvious physical exhaustion.

"He'll come around, Iida." Izuku reached out to put his arm around Iida's shoulder on a whim. They had never been much for physical affection, but it wasn't because they couldn't handle it. They'd never needed it before. It was their habit to fight their personal battles outside of the other person's sight. Maybe Iida needed a reminder that he didn't have to, even if he preferred to.
"Believe me, he doesn't want to miss his brother's wedding. He just couldn't say it. You know how proud he is."

They shared a smile before Izuku left the kitchen to get ready to leave this little excursion for good. As fun as the bachelorette party had been, fun had to end at some point. He didn't wake Ochako for a goodbye. They would see each other often enough in the coming weeks.

On some days, it was easier for him to acclimate to his flat than on others. After the up-draft of the party, it was unusually hard. His own thin walls bothered him more today. The staircase in the hallways felt busier, the smells of other people's kitchen activities which wafted up to his own windows every day felt more intense. He was actually irritated by his drawn curtains, the stiff air, which close to never happened.
The silence that awaited him inside.

So when later that day Shoto texted him to ask for a spontaneous meeting, Izuku agreed to it without much hesitation. The choice hadn't been a difficult one.

Only when he dropped his snapback onto the floor of Shoto's living room did the other explain the reason why he summoned him so unexpectedly.

"You have to play Mario Kart with me." He said bluntly, when they both lowered onto his white velvet couch.

"Excuse me?"

To say Izuku was stunned would be a gross understatement. Out of all the things he had expected, this hadn't made the list by a long shot.

Shoto explained himself without more probing, "I always wanted to play it with my siblings when I was younger, but our dad never allowed us to spend much time with each other. I figured it might still be fun even now."

Despite how out of the blue it had sounded initially, a new playstation 5 stood propped next to Shoto's big flat screen. Izuku would have noticed it, had it been there before.

"I just bought the console recently. So far, I have tried it a few times, but it turns out that I'm just terrible at it and I'm not getting any better."

If Izuku didn't know for sure that he was bad at the game himself, finally finding one thing that Shoto wasn't great at could have even felt good right now.

Shoto faced him from under a solemn twist of his brow. "You have to help me train so I can beat my siblings in the game when we play it together."

That was a plausible proposition that Izuku couldn't reject, so he agreed, but not without letting Shoto know the truth about what he was getting himself into. "I'm not good at that either. I doubt I'll be much use as your training partner."

Shoto gave him a curt, amused smile. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I figured. That's exactly why I asked you. Sero, Denki, Kiri, Mina and Katsuki are all masters at the game. Against them, I don't stand a chance. I've tried, so it's not for my lack of confidence or commitment. But they've got years of experience on me. I see no improvement happening under these conditions. Not when I'm still fighting through my first round by the time they all finish."

When Katsuki's name fell, Izuku felt it collide with something inside of him, like a droplet entering a vast body of water. It had come to meet an entire pond, he'd already been thinking about Katsuki, in some part of his mind, always, but the droplet caused ripples on the surface, reactivated and animated the masses into motion.

It wasn't news to him that Shoto and Katsuki were friends. But somehow it hadn't quite clicked until just now. That Katsuki and him regularly met to do stuff together such as this, as friends do. That Shoto probably knew more about him than Izuku right now. At least when it came to Katsuki's current life. Unlike him, Shoto was a part of it and hadn't just been thrown into it as a temporary disturbance by a quirk of fate. Since college days, Katsuki had said.

Katsuki had been in this flat recently. In this room. Sat on this couch. Talked to Shoto.
There was something at the tip of Izuku's tongue that was waiting for him to put it into words, to materialize it.
Some question concerning Katsuki, but Izuku didn't really know what form it would take, so he decided to swallow it at the last instance.

It was best not to make things messier than they already were. Therefore, he'd better stick to asking the questions about Katsuki to Katsuki himself.
The opportunity slipped away, and Izuku let it go, but for the first time, he felt the weight of it on his mind. Became conscious that the option even existed.

Shoto sipped his lemon tea, a picture of relaxation, as Izuku's inner turmoil stirred. Meeting his gaze effectively switched Izuku's train of thought. Being around Shoto was comfortable in a way that little else had been in the last couple of years.
Although Shoto knew him for the shortest time out of all the people in Izuku's life, in some aspects, Shoto knew more about him than anyone else.

Izuku had hidden his pain from everyone when it began to grow overwhelming. Only Shoto had gotten to know him already this way. Impaired.
He was the only person, other than Katsuki himself, who knew about the scars on his heart.

There was nothing to hide from Shoto. Or well, almost nothing. Less than usual in any case. Not having to filter out any which way Katsuki affected him in his words, his actions or his nature, took a tremendous weight off his shoulders. Just being with Shoto was freeing.
Not to mention that Shoto was pleasant to be around by virtue of his actual personality.

So that night they played Mario Kart together, and they both sucked at it so badly. Of course, Izuku didn't miss out on the chance to get Shoto to admit that it was Sero he had that age-old crush on. Being friends now meant that they could put all cards on the table, without fearing to hurt the other person's feelings.

Shoto next to him stretched out on the couch. "I actually saw him the other day."

On the TV screen, Shoto's chosen Avatar, Shy Guy, was getting pushed off the rainbow track by the Waluigi NPC. For a brief moment, he seemed genuinely upset by the callousness of it. Izuku had to hold his laugh when he saw it.

"And? Did you make a move?"

Shoto looked off the screen to stare at him in silence, his eyes speaking the volumes his mouth was too pressed into a pout for. Not a real pout, of course, a Shoto pout. So, really, just a slight curve of his lower lip.

Izuku shrugged and raised his eyebrows demonstratively, before he focused on passing the Waluigi NPC safely so he didn't end up kicked to the curb like Shoto, who was now seven places behind, "Oh, come on. Don't act like it's that unlikely."

"Yeah, because I will randomly decide to make a move now, after several years of keeping my feelings for him my most guarded secret."

Izuku's own mouth thinned, "Seriously, though, what's stopping you?" He let the controller slack from his grasp once he was past the finish line. With some trouble, he'd managed to come in third place, which he deemed not too bad for his first time playing since middle school.

Shoto was still doing the race. And he had enough pride to still try in earnest, despite the fact that the only real person that played the game aside him had already beat him.

Deep in concentration, Shoto shook his head minutely. "Different stuff than did in the past. Back in High School, it was situational. I wasn't always as balanced as I am now. I mean, you know my family history. I've become really good at handling it all, but when I was a teenager, I was basically a powder keg, just waiting to be set off." When he made it to the finish line as well, his voice sounded more hoarse than before, "I had so many personal issues that actively pursuing a relationship just simply didn't cross my mind, even if I did notice how much more drawn I felt to him over time. And now, well, how can I do it now? Now that–" he trailed off unexpectedly. Izuku gave him a bit of time to finish the explanation, but even then nothing followed.

So, cautiously, Izuku asked, "Now that ... what?"

It's only because he knew Shoto quite well by now, that he realized the other was embarrassed. Shoto's cheeks colored in by a fraction of a shade. "Well, now that he's turning into this big movie star. He already has so many fans – even just that word – and the media trails after him like, you'd think he's found a miracle cure for cancer and will give it away to the first person that can stick by his side for 72 hours straight and finds the solutions to his three magical riddles. I'm basically just another fan at this point, and an insincere one at that, because I've known him before his fame. I didn't seem interested then. What will he think of me if I make a move only now that his career is taking off and he's got everyone and their mothers, especially their mothers, wanting to get in his pants?"

"Is that what you want? To get in his pants?" Izuku raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"I wouldn't decline the opportunity, if you must know. But that's not my intention with him." Shoto rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by the question.

"Exactly." Izuku searched for his gaze, more serious now. "I never would have thought that you, of all people, could see such a clear matter so unclearly."

Judging by his look, Shoto questioned what Izuku had just told him.

Izuku shrugged, as much as he was able to, with his left arm pressed into the back of the couch. "You don't know how desirable you are, do you? You could never be just that, Shoto. No one could ever see you as 'just another fan', believe me."

Shoto had never reacted much to flattery while they had dated, and even now he only shook his head dejectedly. "That's not really the point and–"

Izuku interrupted him, because he hadn't actually finished speaking, "Well, the point that you think you have is stupid, which is something that you should know, but seem to not grasp."

"Just so you know, I'm beginning to regret having told you about my crush." Shoto's expression had turned awry, but Izuku didn't believe it one bit.

They were sitting so close on the couch that it allowed for Izuku to nudge him in the thigh with his knee, "I mean it. I mean, I don't know Sero all that well, but I'm sure he would not think of the situation that way, because I know you. You're a serious man Shoto, and when you care about something, you do so deeply. Anyone who's known you since High School and would think of you as the type of person to play games, can't know you that well, that's all I'm saying. I think that's how you should approach the situation."

"If you say so." Shoto sounded as if he wanted to doubt Izuku's words more, but wasn't quite managing to.

"I say so. And I also say that I think maybe, deep down, you know that I'm right. Maybe what's actually kept you confined until now is something as banal and mundane as–" Izuku raised a hand to his mouth, covering it in mock-surprise, before saying, "nerves."

This effectively lost him Shoto's attention again. He turned back to the TV in resigned annoyance, but he didn't try to contradict Izuku.

In the next round, they chose a different map. Shoto's only criteria for it had been that you shouldn't be able to fall out of the sky once an NPC bumps into you. When Izuku tried to explain to him that nothing about the time that it would take you to get back into the race would change, Shoto pretended not to hear him.

The starting whistle blew, and they both blasted off anew. While Shoto even managed to hold his position for three full seconds after starting in first place, he promptly crashed into a wall after, the misstep earning him a significant delay. He wasn't able to salvage it for the rest of the next three rounds.

Izuku himself felt like hitting a wall, when Shoto asked out of the blue, "How are things going with Katsuki by the way?"

It took one upset beat of his heart to spur him into words. One breath delayed in his throat. One ripple in the pond.

"Well, how are they supposed to go?" He deflected.

Izuku hadn't told Shoto of the newest developments in their relationship, because they hadn't talked all of January. Maybe he should. While he would normally try to dodge such a question, granted that most iterations of it didn't involve the mention of Katsuki quite so explicitly, Izuku had already concluded earlier that Shoto was kind of the only person that he could talk about Katsuki with.

And since he was Katsuki's friend and had been Izuku's date, and now was his friend, too, the entire mess, for better or for worse, involved him as well. It's only fair that Izuku let him know at least something about where they were at. And where they were headed.

So he explained it to Shoto, in somewhat more elusive terms than really necessary. Many things he left out, like his decision to no longer hate Katsuki. And that he wanted to take things one at a time, began to accept the situation for what it was, and see to how he could move forward while navigating their complicated, tangled past.

Shoto cocked his head to the side by the end of it. "I've noticed that you talk about him differently."

Did he do that? Izuku had no ground to compare things on. He hadn't really kept track of how he talked about Katsuki, when for the most part, he hadn't talked about him.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, the last time we discussed him, you had to take a breath after every thing you said. When you spoke, I could hear the unease in your voice. But now, I don't know. It just seems like you're taking it better."

It was Izuku's turn to shrug now, dismissive of Shoto's words, "Maybe." He didn't know if he wanted it to mean anything.

In typical Shoto fashion, Shoto blindsided him with his next ask, "So, how was Christmas?"

Izuku blushed. Instantly. It's always been like flipping a switch with him, but it had never before happened as fast as at that very moment.
Maybe it was because this was the first time he was encouraged to think back to that night. Or more so, the morning after. He'd gone the entire January not thinking about the morning of the 25th of December.

To Izuku's dismay, Shoto saw him blush before he had time to shove a couch cushion over his own face, or Shoto's, to obstruct his vision, which unfortunately meant that he could no longer come up with a quick lie to dodge this situation.

"Izuku what happened?" Shoto asked again, amused and more than just a little intrigued.

Should he lie anyway? Not even to believably get himself out of the situation, but maybe for Katsuki's sake? To save his face?

Alas, under Shoto's scrutinizing gaze, he failed to come up with anything that could have adequately explained his strange reaction. So he told the truth, and forced himself to get it out as fast as possible, so it might just be that he mumbled it all out indecipherably for all he knew. Shoto still understood him with little issue.

"What does it mean?" Izuku asked at the very end of his ramble. A question that he hadn't allowed himself to ponder on, yet, because there was no obvious and understandable use in knowing the answer, if there even was one. If it meant anything at all. Still, something inside of him burned to know, for whatever reason.

"It's pretty straightforward isn't it? I know what it means when I get a boner around someone else." Shoto shrugged his shoulders.

For his own mental well-being, Izuku decided then to pretend that Shoto hadn't just said that.

"Dude, whatever." Izuku wrote that off immediately, with a finality to his tone that told Shoto to not raise the subject to him ever again. That was … he couldn't be serious.

In his periphery, he saw Shoto roll his eyes at him in amusement, but he complied with Izuku's silent demand and started another round without returning to the topic anymore for the rest of the day. What also helped was that Izuku remembered to ask a question of his own then, something he'd been curious about himself until now, "Uh, and how was your Christmas? I guess it must have gone well, if you're already ploying to wipe the floor with your siblings in your upcoming Mario Kart tournament."

Chapter Text

Diary Entry September 2016, 19 year old Izuku

He's dead.

His mother told me a week ago. I puked right into the toilet bowl the moment I reached it after running to the bathroom. I thought if it all came out, I'd feel better.
I still feel sick. I feel sick to my core. To the ends of my toes. The feeling is  on the inside of my skull. Behind my eyelids. Pricking under my fingernails. Behind my navel, in between my organs. Crawling through the marrow of my spine. It's bending my knees skew. I feel it everywhere. I'm sick. I'm ill. I've fallen ill in a way that doesn't have a cure.
I don't know– I don't know what to do.

Diary entry February 2018, 21 year old Izuku

Dear Diary,

the days are dragging. It's either I'm working on uni assignments, or I'm lying in bed. Doing nothing. I feel suffocated, by the sheer amount of nothing that there is. There is nothing – that appeals to me. About anything.

People around me seem to get by just fine. They never have to ask for the why. Why they stand up everyday. Why they attend every class. Why they hand in assignments. Why they go out. Why they show up at each and every party. Why they call their friends. Why they have fun. They just do.
Everything seems to follow a certain kind of logic that everyone is privy to, just by way of existing.

I'm the only one who isn't part of it. I rest offside of things, plagued by everlasting bewilderment, and these last years have made me afraid I'll never understand it.

Lately I became aware that more and more I feel as if the entire world, life, plays out on a thinly grid invisible net which I naturally used to walk alongside people without realizing it even, back when I was still myself.
At some point I have fallen through it and ever since then I've been searching for a way back up there.

I don't get it. And it's not because I just don't want to. Believe me, there is little else I'd wish for more than to just understand how to go about my day. Without it being so unbelievably hard.
I thought Katsuki was what's wrong with me. But I fear that it's been so long now that I have become what's wrong with me. Maybe my mother was right. Maybe this isn't grief anymore.
I mean, this can't be just Katsuki any longer.

Don't mistake this as me saying I don't miss him. Nothing about that has changed. That's exactly the problem. I still miss him. So fucking much. So much that it´s laughable. I find myself pathetic. To think that I struggle this much still, after six fucking years of dealing with this.
In a way, time makes it worse even.

Before I firsthand experienced losing someone that close to me, someone I loved, I thought, in the abstract, an experience like that deals the heaviest blow directly upon impact. And that, over time, the pain would gradually ease. Until eventually, you no longer felt any of it. The same way that you don't take notice of breathing. You just don't think about it any more.

But I found that, really, it only gets harder with the passing of time. If the loved one was important enough. And Katsuki was everything to me.
The heaviest blow is not the worst, but the fact that the punching never truly stops.

It will never feel right. The way I lost him.

It will never make sense. There will never come a day where I'll suddenly develop a sense of, of rightness, inside me about it, which could make me accept the way things are. The more time passes, the more the falsity of what happened aggravates the scar it has left behind. No, it's not a scar– a fracture. All these years ago, I've healed wrong. Ever since then I have been left with this misalignment.

I will always feel like it was never supposed to happen. I will always long to make things right, despite knowing that I'll never be able to, because it's simply not possible because he is dead and I can't mend that.

I went through High School all by myself, when he should have been there. The year after he disappeared, it was the plan that he would follow me to it. And at my graduation, he should have sat in the audience. When I moved into the dorms at college, I had counted on him helping me get the moving boxes inside. The first day here, we should have spent together. It would have been a good chance for him to take a good look at the place, since he'd be moving in himself in two years. Because we had made that decision together. Going to college together.

Now you see why I've said it's all wrong. He should be here now.

And, see, that's what each day feels like. Just– wrong. Each day brings yet more pain. And, no matter how illogical and irrational it is, a persistent, nagging part of me still doesn't accept that he is dead. Thinks that it's just some cruel ongoing trial of fate. And in such unguarded moments when irrational naivety overcomes me, I sink into my pain and my thoughts begin to crowd me like a swarm of dark birds. I'm helpless to it as they ambush me, slowly, tear me apart.

They scream: Isn't this enough? Hasn't enough time passed? Can't I see him again now? Weren't six fucking years enough of a test? Have I not shouldered, not borne the ultimate burden by now?

For there can't be anything more painful to come after this. This is the worst that there is, and it already happened to me.

It should be over, shouldn't it? At least you'd think fate has separated us long enough by now.

Those moments are the hardest for me. Not just because I fully give in to the pain. But also, because it's just so stupid. I mean, what am I doing actually?

I almost act as if Katsuki were just in a faraway place all this time. And what keeps us apart isn't death as much as cruel arbitrariness. These thoughts hollow me out and I know that they do and still, I let them. When I shouldn't. It's not good for me. If I knew how to care for myself, I wouldn't be allowing this.

If this were a classic tragedy, there would be a resolution at the end of such a trial and it would allocate purpose to the suffering, a sense to madness.

In my actual life, if the trial ever does end, there won't be a resolution. He will not come back. I'll never see him again.
And that's just one of many thoughts that I can't reconcile with.

I will always fall asleep remembering the nights when we did so together. Of what it was like to pull the blanket and hear Katsuki's annoyed grumble in response, followed by a not so gentle kick to the shin, if I haven't stopped my ministrations by then.

This used to happen almost every other night. Always at roughly the same hour, he would come through the window, to sneak in without alerting Inko or his parents knowing.

For the longest time after, I couldn't bring myself to lock the window of my bedroom, because the hope that he would return was feeble, but never quiet. Like a pebble inside of a shoe. A persistent ache. I didn't have it in me to ignore it.

When I still lived at home, whenever I sat at the dinner table with mom, I saw his ghost in the seat he used to take up. My memories of him were so vivid at times that in the millisecond I had before it registered as merely a memory, I could have sworn it's actually the real him. As if he had never left and the last few years had been one big hoax. Despite how much it hurt to think each time, I found that idea too desirable.

My childhood home was full of such traps. He was there with me, all the time, in the spaces he used to take up, for a split of a second each time, so, not enough by a long shot.

When I finally knew he was dead it was clear that there no longer was any point in waiting for him at that house, so I moved into the dorms. But the memories were another reason why. They gradually became harder to take.

And you can only understand this, once you live it. I know best, better than anyone else, that the sensible thing would be to make peace with it. I'm not stupid, god. I know that's what I have to do.
Yet, in order for me to take that step, it would necessitate a power that I came to realize I just do not possess. I am not that strong. That has been proven time and time again. Contrarily, over the last couple of years, I displayed a particular weakness of spirit. And it's exactly that which prevents me from  moving on, from changing.
So I remain as I am, wounded and infirm.

While Katsuki ultimately is what went wrong with my life, I feel like it could have never damaged me as much as it did, if it hadn't been for my weak constitution to begin with. There is something wrong with me. Has been, always, but when Katsuki died, it first reared its ugly head. And now I just have to live with it. Live like this. For the rest of my life.

Izuku didn't allow himself any expectations for tonight. Having no expectations had seemed like his guiding principle throughout the whole past month.

While it could only be a fallacy, the last 45 minutes of driving had felt like the most nerve-wracking ones of his life.

And that included the moment he'd come home from High School at 18 and Inko, standing in the doorway of their front porch, was waving the answer letter to his Tokyo state university application in her hands by way of greeting him, pressing for him to open it. Or the one morning last year in December when he found out about whether he would keep his job at the chancellery.

All of these moments had been substantial to him in determining what his future would shape into. Why was he feeling the same thing now that he was stepping out of the car in Katsuki's neighborhood?

His body was having an overreaction to the situation. From his hands that felt hot and clammy and tingled at least in the tips of his fingers, to the way his legs behaved strangely, in their uneasy step.

Halfway to the door, Izuku nearly tripped over a small rock, and that got him to almost start laughing at himself right there on the street.

It was a mystery to him, that he reacted so unsure now considering it had been his own idea, this whole thing, coming to Katsuki's place. Katsuki hadn't asked him for it. He no longer asked. Izuku had suggested it all by himself.

It was just that – so much had happened in such a short time span that forcing himself to not cross that line felt unfounded. And Izuku had never thought of himself as someone who acted in irrational ways. Not to say that he wasn't borderline insane for all of this, but at least his actions in the past, while they didn't always classify as logical, had always made sense to him.

They had slept in the same bed on Christmas Eve, for god's sake.

Ever since that conversation with Shoto where he had accidentally mentioned this, he no longer had any trouble recalling the memory. Even when it was better not to. He still did.

By no means was it on purpose. Prohibiting himself from doing so would simply be a pointless endeavor. Mostly, he just didn't have any power over the matter.

His body took the choice right out of his hands. On some mornings in the last couple of days, the corporeal memory of it had haunted him. In that state when he was half-wakeful and half asleep yet, like a ghostly apparition, it had taken on nearly physical form.

That first time it had happened, he'd thought he'd gone through it all over again. Had felt the moderate heaviness of Katsuki's full weight on top of him again. The heat just that slim sliver of skin contact pressed into him where his sleep shirt had ridden up and Katsuki's shirt's seam had ended. Where he stopped and Katsuki met him.

The silky hair that had tickled his clavicle. Calm, sleep-warmed breath fawning over his neck in rhythmic, regular intervals. Katsuki's unexpectedly callus hands at his back. How the fingers had momentarily dug into his skin, right before he had withdrawn them. A firm pressure, setting off every alarm bell in Izuku's mind. Legs, almost entirely bare legs, half entangled with his.

They had touched in so many different places that Izuku had felt like a computer that someone had poured soda on. All of his processes were permanently disrupted. He ceased to function, because he was busy melting into a big, hot mess.
And the hard–

No. No. It's here where Izuku managed to put an end to the reminiscing, overrule the needlessly lively playback of the morning after Christmas Eve. This was where he had to draw the line. Never, ever, would he visit that particular memory again. Ever. He would simply not allow himself to.

He would– he would come up with something that would put a stop to the morning haunts. He'd think of something. Even if it ended up being something as simple as waking himself up faster the next time.
And as for moments like now, when he started to follow these trains of thoughts all on his own, he would also stop doing that from now on.

The weirdest thing about this was that Izuku had no idea why the hell his mind was replaying the scene time and again every so often, because before he had told Shoto, it had been so easy to pretend that it hadn't happened. Which was to say, he didn't have to make an effort at all.

So just, what was the deal now?

It was the last thing he needed now that he stood in front of Katsuki's door. So close to entering his flat. Just great.

Now he wished he'd chosen for them to go to the bar after all. Then maybe this situation at least had the chance to kick off a little less charged.

Were it the answers? Was that what made him feel like there was a fire under his ass? That he still hadn't gotten all of his questions from over the years answered yet?

Now he was here in Ginza, the sun had almost set. They had scheduled their meeting late. He was parked on a side street near Katsuki's apartment complex. And it was, as a quick glance to his wrist watch told him, his third minute of standing at the door without doing anything about it. So he ignored the tightness in his throat and rang the bell.

Katsuki lived inside of a modern, expensive high-rise at the heart of Ginza's residential area. Izuku didn't even want to imagine how much a flat like this cost and how Katsuki was able to afford it on a beginner chef's salary.

When the elevator arrived, Izuku stepped in and pushed the button for the eighteenth floor. Inside, he reminded himself to take a deep breath one last time and to shake his shoulders to release the tension from his posture.
It took barely a couple of seconds before the elevator stood still. He tried not to read this as a sign that it was super high tech (so probably super expensive), if it could cross so many floors in the blink of an eye. He didn't need that to make him nervous again.

Today was the first time Katsuki and him met since they had buried the hatchet, for better or for worse. Izuku did not come to him as an opponent, but a … well, calling each other friends was taking it too far in his eyes.
Rather, he was a neutral party, no longer the plaintiff. And Katsuki had as of recently been acquitted of his charges.

In Izuku's professional experience, this would mark the end of an involvement. Opposing parties of a court case tended to be reluctant to ever come in contact again after the trial had ended, no matter the outcome. If so, what were they doing, Katsuki and him? Their 'court case' certainly had ended.

When Katsuki opened the door to his apartment, Izuku had to swallow. Something about the sight of Katsuki did that to him, always had him feeling like he was getting hit by a brick square in the face. Today it was worse. He had to suppress stumbling a step back. At least that first second. There was a novel suave air about Katsuki that startled him.

One arm propped at the doorframe, Katsuki smirked with just a corner of his mouth before he greeted him, "Hey Izuku."

Izuku exhaled slowly. "Hey."

"You came just in time, because I was just finishing dinner. I hope you're hungry." Katsuki smiled innocently, as if he hadn't known Izuku would come over and had opened the door, just to be pleasantly surprised by the sight.

Izuku shook his head imperceptibly, because he wasn't buying it. He hadn't asked Katsuki to prepare any of this, so whatever this greeting was, it was a ploy the other had come up with all by himself. For some reason, Katsuki was trying to impress him.

"And I just happened to be in the area." Izuku lied in kind before walking past him.

He stepped into the hallway of Katsuki's flat, a long, small aisle. Multiple doors lined the lime colored walls. The rest of the space was covered with black and white pictures that Izuku couldn't pay attention to yet. Something else struck him at that second.

Katsuki hadn't really made space for Izuku to step in, so they stood fairly close together now. For the first time that he could recall, he perceived Katsuki's cologne. Or maybe this was just the first time that Katsuki had put on cologne around him, he couldn't say.

The cologne smelled ... good. So good that it had him inhaling a second time involuntarily.

After, he couldn't immediately drop the thought again, so surprised that he had gotten himself hung up on that in the first place. Since when did it matter what Katsuki smelled like? Or better yet, what did it matter?

When he noticed he had stared straight at Katsuki's neck, Izuku turned his gaze back to Katsuki's eyes.

Okay– that was something he absolutely had to get under control immediately, before it had the chance to get worse. What was it with his odd behavior tonight?

"Want to get to the kitchen?" Katsuki said, and the smirk on his lips softened into a more amused version, which then almost made it seem as if he had noticed the staring.

Izuku cleared his throat and looked away to respond, "Yes, let's do that." Spurred by his nerves, he shoved his jittery hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Since they hadn't met in public, he had dressed rather casually today, and left out the suit pants of his office wear. As had Katsuki, but unlike him, Katsuki had even gone so far as to wear gray sweatpants with a black T-shirt that had an abstract artwork of a skull on it. Inside of his flat, he wore a pair of blue and beige checkered slippers. His hair didn't look quite as spiky as usual, which suggested that he had recently showered. At least his hair had acted that way ten years ago.

In order to prevent himself from staring at Katsuki's sweatpants next, Izuku began taking off his shoes. Katsuki, after watching him at it for a short while, wordlessly handed him a pair of slippers. The guest slippers, Izuku assumed.

"Thanks." He mumbled. When he put them on, they were a little too big on his feet, but on the way to the kitchen they didn't slip off.

The kitchen had a view of Ginza. There was a vast window front at one of the walls, which offered an elaborate picture of the district. Now, at this late hour, small colorful lights shone from every one of the countless buildings. Windows and store fronts and huge vertical neon signs lit up the scenery like peculiar, fallen stars. Down below, on the biggest visible street, traffic continued to rush, but none of the sound reached them this high.
It had snowed last night, and the few remaining snow masses had already begun to melt since early morning. A bit of it could still be seen on piles at the sight of the streets. Unaware of it, Izuku had moved closer to the window.

"It looks pretty nice. From so high up." Katsuki's voice reached him from a place a little further behind Izuku, where he had come to stand.

"Yes."

"But when you're down there, it's nothing special. Every street is the same and it all seems pretty unremarkable to you."

Izuku didn't answer at first.

Behind him, Katsuki took a step closer. "It's an odd effect. That still always amazes me, too."

Izuku turned away from the window again. "I can understand that well."

Katsuki actually still had a little work to do on the food. So Izuku went to sit down at the oval dining table in the middle of the room.

Since he waited for Katsuki to finish the last preparations, he had a moment of time to look around the kitchen and dining room. Normally, Izuku wasn't this curious, but now he couldn't resist.

Unlike Shoto's flat, the walls here weren't just plain white. They were lime-colored and textured, which gave the entire room a transformed atmosphere. Between the two rooms, the kitchen was hands down the real looker. Tiled with small, dark green squares in part, which Izuku wouldn't have been surprised to hear were made of some expensive, two-hundred-year-old fancy stone from an industry-secret Sicilian mountain cave reservoir or whatever. He wasn't even sure if that was where stone was mined nowadays. If Sicily even had any interesting rock. It felt like Katsuki would know this.

By the time Katsuki served the food, it was out of question that he had just made dinner by chance. Coming in, the table had been set for two. And by the looks of it, Katsuki had also planned for a dessert.

Everything was set up as if Izuku had visited Katsuki at the restaurant and not his home. The crockery he brought out rivaled the one at Ginza Izuma. The plates were lithe and elegantly shaped. The mugs filigree, the glasses so thin and hazardously formed that Izuku got scared to break them just by looking at them the wrong way.

"Wine?" Katsuki asked, when he procured a bottle from a walnut brown wooden bottle rag in the corner of his kitchen.

"Sure." One glass couldn't hurt, just help.

Katsuki poured the red liquid into two bulbous glasses at the counter, and promptly turned around once done to put them on the table.

"This time, you're not even telling me which kind it is?" Izuku put his head in his right hand, and looked up smiling faintly.

"No, not today. Just let the taste surprise you." Katsuki winked and sat down in an easy movement.

Izuku narrowed his eyes at him but accepted the glass without further protest when Katsuki handed it to him.

Even though the whole thing, this dinner, was way too exaggerated, it didn't overwhelm him. The days when Katsuki had intimidated him were long gone. He just wondered what the whole thing was about, but he didn't give Katsuki the satisfaction of pointing it out.

They finally ate and Izuku asked simple questions. He hadn't planned on it, but it seemed right to him then, to ease himself back into the swing of things. It wasn't that he didn't want to keep asking and learning about Katsuki, but rather, all the elements of their relationship had quietly shifted over January, and it was no longer his top priority.

It was mental, if he thought about it, that simply being around Katsuki now almost had the effect of letting him forget that he had spent a whole decade tormented by his incomprehension of their situation.

Now he could sit across from Katsuki and somehow believe that, over time, he could absorb everything he wanted to know about him without needing to say a word, without asking Katsuki to lay himself bare in front of him. Everything Izuku needed, Katsuki already exuded, and he just had to wait for osmosis to kick in and it would do all the work on its own. Time would make him alright again, would fix him. All he had to do was be patient at it.

"What motivated you to become a chef?" Izuku asked, in between two bites.

Katsuki took a sip of his own wine, before he said, "Remember all the times we ate together with Inko?"

"Yeah."

"I never had that with my family. It started only with you."

When Izuku didn't immediately understand, Katsuki continued, "Inko was very busy in those years, so most of the time, we were alone in your house. But every day when she was home eventually, we sat together at your kitchen table, and I experienced what being a family must feel like. I kept thinking to myself that this was what it was about. Eating together, sitting with each other, taking care of each other. Initiating conversations at the end of each day. Checking in on each other. I knew at some point I would want to do that too."

Izuku almost choked on the sip of the wine he'd taken, coughing out the question, "Start a family?" Albeit he didn't exactly know why the idea shocked him so much.

Katsuki smiled furtively before shaking his head. "Being there for people by taking care of them. Cooking is just one form of that. When I tried it, I realized I was pretty good at it, too. It was the natural thing to go pro after."

Perhaps it were the surroundings–Katsuki's very apartment–that prompted Izuku to ask more personal questions this evening. The vulnerable intimacy granted him a deep insight into Katsuki that he simply hadn't allowed himself before.

Katsuki hadn't exactly given him a tour of the flat upon arrival; the dinner had seemed more important to both of them, but just walking through it to get to the dining room, Izuku caught enough glimpses to give him an idea of who Katsuki of now was. A view of Ginza. A high end designer kitchen.
A hallway full of photographs. Well shot, large, high-resolution, high-contrast black and white photographs of his friends. Just them, as far as Izuku could tell. He hadn't spotted Katsuki's parents, Mr. And Mrs. Eijirou, yet, not that he would recognize them anyway.

It was also striking that Katsuki himself wasn't in any of the pictures. Almost as if he had been the photographer who'd shot them. Earlier, it hadn't seemed right to ask about it. Maybe Izuku would do that later.

Izuku held his fork in his right hand, paused halfway through and asked something that popped into his head.

"How were the rest of your school years for you?"

"Uneventful. I focused mostly on getting to graduation as fast as possible, so I could start college early."

Izuku looked up at him, "What had you in such a hurry?"

Katsuki stared back leveled, and said, "I wanted my life to begin, and couldn't have that happen fast enough."

All of Katsuki's answers acted like balm to Izuku's battered soul. There was a wound inside him that could only heal if he continued to wring word after word from Katsuki.
A restless part of him that found peace in Katsuki reciting the story of his current life. He hadn't realized he'd felt this way before, but Izuku wasn't ashamed of it anymore. Of needing this.

There was no chance Katsuki hadn't noticed by now. And given that they still met up, just as much on his unspoken demand as on Izuku's spoken one, that simply had to mean he was okay with it.

The only question left to answer now was, how much of the hunger could he quell? Enough to feed the gaping hole inside of him?

How much could he get away with asking? How far would Katsuki go with him, and at what point would he dig his heels into the ground? What seemed justified under the guise of making up for the ten years of solitary wondering? And what was simply odd and imposing to ask and completely out of line and place? What was beyond his right to know? How much of what was would Katsuki grant him still?

A slight shaking returned to Izuku's hands and he put them in his lap to hide it, "Did you have a relationship when at school? Or multiple? Serious ones?"

"No, not really." Katsuki answered calmly, and there was not a hint of shame in his words, which for Izuku could only mean that his lack of romantic experience was self-inflicted. It made him want to follow up on the matter.
Somehow, it felt more than unrealistic that there was really nothing to tell about Katsuki's school days.

It wasn't difficult to admit that Katsuki was good-looking. And he's since shed the personality traits that once kept all the neighborhood kids at a distance. So really, have there been no romantic trysts at all?

"I told you about the time I had a crush on Ochako, didn't I?" Izuku started anew.

Katsuki nodded and ate more of the dessert. A citrusy pudding that perfectly topped off the hearty dinner he had served before.

Izuku gave him an appraising look, "Well, that's pretty embarrassing for me now, considering she's getting married to my other friend Iida. Hence, in the spirit of fair play, you have to tell me about such things as well." Even though he had put on a slight smile to encourage Katsuki, the words left a bitter taste in his mouth that differed uncomfortably from that of the dry wine. They'd had that conversation when they'd been 13 and 14. It would probably never not be strange to remember that time.

For the first time that evening, or perhaps since they had started this whole thing, it seemed as if Katsuki was reluctant to answer one of his questions.
After a short pause, he did anyway. "There really was no one at my school. Nobody there interested me. Although it's not like I never got offers."

Izuku sensed that something was being omitted, but he wouldn't ask the same question thrice, so he let the matter go.

Sometimes Katsuki was bold enough to dare to ask him the same questions back. He did so with this one.

Izuku put down his fork and rested his elbows on the table. He was done eating. "I mean, I've had a girlfriend in the past year. We've gone out for eight months. Couple of college flings before that. And you know about Shoto."

"What made you guys break up? I mean you and your girlfriend." Katsuki looked sheepish, when he presumably realized he'd made it sound like he'd meant him and Shoto.

"It's complicated," Izuku said evasively. He and Mei... ultimately broke up because Izuku wasn't suited for a relationship. But he didn't feel like going into the details and explaining to Katsuki exactly what was wrong with him.

"Ah, okay," said Katsuki, unable to poke any further into the matter, when Izuku was giving him no target space.

"Have you ever gone back?" For me. The words were out of him before Izuku even knew he had thought them.

The change in tone was palpable and unwieldy, it could have been cut with a knife. It took Katsuki a moment to respond, his voice composed when he did.

"Once." If he cared about how his answer sounded, he hid his own reaction very well. His gaze was open, but also impenetrable. Like a sky that could be seen in its entirety but not explored. Izuku was stuck on the ground.

"Once." Izuku repeated, dumbfounded. His throat felt too tight and painful. "Then I guess I don't need to know more."

"I read your comic."

A harsh exhale broke out of him. Izuku had almost forgotten about the comic he'd given Katsuki on Christmas. After all, his 15 year old self had made it.

"I thought about coming back every day, but especially on your sixteenth. I hadn't forgotten– haven't forgotten about our tradition."

"And why didn't you?" Now that Katsuki had started with this topic, Izuku wasn't going to let him off the hook.

It seemed as if all the veils had fallen. This evening was not a pleasant gathering where two adults had an easy conversation about old times. One of these adults still only tried at being put together and pleasant.
He would no longer intentionally hurt Katsuki and neither would he resent Katsuki's past decisions, but that didn't stop Izuku from feeling sorry for himself it seemed.

"My reason for staying where I was was more important than my desire to come back."

Izuku was itching to ask for the why, but he couldn't. The thought of it felt like a searing hot piece of coal when he tried to entertain it. It dropped right out of his hands at picking it up. So he left Katsuki's sentence uncommented and they continued eating. For a couple of minutes, the atmosphere was rather tense and stiff.

At some point, it was even later, dinner long over, and they had moved on to the couch in Katsuki's living room, that Izuku tried to really imagine it. The very lunatic thing of going all out tonight. What if he did ask? Let it all out? Asked everything he really wanted to know?

Then he'd have the answer he'd been searching for. He'd know why things had turned out the way they did. What had kept him and Katsuki apart for 10 years.
And maybe would keep them apart for even longer. Depending on what it was. Whether it was forgivable.

No, he couldn't. Izuku didn't ask. Not tonight. He hadn't come here thinking this might be the last time he'd ever see Katsuki. And that's why he couldn't do it, but he asked most of his questions, so that in the end, only the one remained. The only one really.
The question that has been the crux of his existence for the past few years. Tonight, he was not ready to get unhinged. So he left it unspoken. Katsuki and him both knew it, had felt Izuku tip-toe around it every so often in the last couple of hours. He'd come the closest to asking it he has ever gotten.

Katsuki was braver than him. Absentmindedly, he brushed his hand over one of the embroidered sofa cushions. It made a soft, raspy sound under his touch. "When you're ready," he began, "Then I'll tell you."

'All you have to do is ask,' lingered at the end of the sentence like a wisp of shadow. Izuku couldn't be sure if he'd been right in perceiving it, but he thought it there. He swallowed dry.

So there was a door. A door that was ajar to him because Katsuki had opened it a while ago. Izuku just had to walk through it, if he wanted to. Once he was ready.

He couldn't think of anything to say in response. Even just acknowledging it felt too risky. As if that alone would be enough to break the spell once and for all and force his tongue to speak it. So he stayed silent for a long while. Which wasn't a big deal, because there was something on the TV in the background that Izuku hadn't looked at once since Katsuki turned it on, but it was enough to provide them with background noise.

"How are Yaoyoruzo and Jirou?" Katsuki asked eventually, when the break in conversation had gone on for a considerable amount of time.

Izuku quietly breathed out in relief, was thankful for the change of topic. "Oh, they're doing great. You cannot separate the two of them at work anymore. I'm happy for Kyoka, really, but I'm beginning to miss not always third wheeling at lunch break, gotta be honest."

Chapter Text

January turned into February without much bravado. For Izuku this meant half of the new quarter had passed at his work. The old cases were slowly all being closed, and an interim review was being carried out to perhaps re-arrange things if and how it was seen fit.
Strategies that had been developed for the new year early in December were being evaluated to check if everything was on track. Overall, things were getting a bit more stressful at work as there was just a lot going on.

Which meant that Izuku really shouldn't have let himself get distracted. Jirou, for instance, was working diligently at her computer, managing to get through about one thin folder per hour, and Izuku really should have followed her example, but he couldn't.

Because the case was not the only thing on his mind any longer, Katsuki was there again.

It had been more of an issue for him in the past. So, when joining the workforce, Izuku knew he'd have to change that. So he did. He'd gotten a hold of himself enough to make it stop. During college, he'd developed the discipline that had so far allowed him to draw fences around the places in his mind that interfered with his work. Until Katsuki had reappeared in his life, they had worked out fine. Forgetting the real Katsuki it turned out was harder than simply repressing his memories.

Izuku had just gotten himself a coffee from the office kitchen in hopes that it could curb his wandering thoughts, though when he sat back down at his desk, the vibration of his phone rattled him. So that plan would fly right out the window. There was currently only one person texting him. Carefully, making sure that Jirou didn't have a view of him, Izuku pulled his phone out of his suit pocket.

It was always an option to just work overtime later to make up for his mediocre morning performance, wasn't it? Not the first time he'd do that.

Of course the message was from Katsuki.

Hey, have some time on your hands right now?

Izuku glanced at the clock above their open doorway once ruefully, short of midday by two hours, and typed, Yes, why?

How does lunch sound?

Attached to the message was a picture of a truly appetizing-looking dish that was likely Sukiyaki, though Izuku could tell someone had made it with considerable artistic freedom. At the very edge of the image, Katsuki's left thumb and some of his hand were visible, his wrist covered by his white chef's uniform. Gray buttons closed over neat, stark-white cuffs, perhaps the only light color that stood out against his slightly tanner skin. On one finger, his index finger, Katsuki wore a silver ring with a skull motif.

Before he could reply, another text came in. I'll make you a fresh one when you're here.

Going to Ginza meant taking a longer lunch break than he usually did. But many of his other coworkers were in the habit of doing that, so why couldn't Izuku?
Now he would really have to turn in some extra hours.

When Izuku finally went home after the spontaneous overtime, the conversation continued, like it did most days.
And even the next day, back at work, it didn't halt.

Texting Katsuki was different from meeting up with him in the way no heavy, no bad topics were broached. This wasn't part of their deal. Katsuki didn't have to answer any questions, Izuku was leading no interrogation. It was just about talking and nothing more. The conversation stayed simple, easy and beautiful. Nevertheless, some times the topic switched over into critical territory by mere accident.
It happened mostly because Katsuki asked him about seemingly mundane stuff.

I read your comic again today. It makes me wonder, how come you don't draw anymore?

Now that Izuku no longer wanted to hurt Katsuki, it was difficult to weigh how to answer such questions. Should he tell the truth? The whole truth? Because that always had something to do with Katsuki's disappearance.

Most of the times, he opted for a diplomatic answer. The truth, but wrapped in enough cotton not to hurt anyone.

There was nothing left that I wanted to draw.

His passion had stemmed from the thought that with drawing, he created something he could do together with Katsuki. The comics were always about the two of them. Him and Kacchan, them having one adventure after another. The stories themselves were never quite the focus. So when Katsuki was gone, there was no story to tell, because there was no them anymore that he could think about and draw. No audience to receive it after.

A shame. Katsuki answered. So you won't draw me a comic for my next birthday?

The pen he'd been holding dropped out of Izuku's hand. Lucky for him, he used a ball pen and no fancy stuff like Aizawa's Montblanc fountain pen, so it didn't leave an ink stain where it fell onto the spread out file in front of him. He picked it up and put it back into the pen holder at his desk just to be on the safe side.

Katsuki's birthday was on the 20th of April. That would be in a little more than two months. He hadn't even thought about giving Katsuki a present. Especially not a comic. The idea was ridiculous. The last time they had done that was 10 years ago, when they had still been kids.

Izuku honestly didn't even remember what he had drawn in that last comic. Shortly after his 16th birthday, he'd looked at it one last time, crumpled as it was, before banishing it to the back of his closet. In the darkness of it, he'd abandoned the comic, and while the content had faded from his memory, he'd never forgotten that it was there.

Since he couldn't get himself to write no, he settled for a different truth.

I'm out of practice. With a slight delay, he added, You wouldn't even want a comic from me.

Try me.

And on my birthday? Will you gift me one of your photographs?

Izuku hadn't yet asked Katsuki if he had really taken all the pictures himself. Now he was grateful that he had put it off, because it gave him the perfect exit for this subject.

If you'd like one, sure. What would you like to have photographed?

You. The word appeared in Izuku's mind like a sudden bell ring. It echoed.

Was it weird to ask that? When he thought about it, he simply couldn't think of any other subject he wanted depicted. He had no need for artistic pictures of himself. And if he asked for it to be Ochako and Iida, he'd have to explain the relationship between him and Katsuki to them first. Which was too complicated for him right now.

Besides …

He wanted a picture of Katsuki. For years, all he'd had were the few photos he could find online, ever since that police search for Katsuki had been set in motion. Izuku had stared at those pictures so often that they had probably left a permanent burn on his retinas like a cigarette stump would have on a couch. Back when he'd searched for news of Katsuki every day, hoping to see him again someday. It was time to overwrite the memory.

He was sure of it, yet too nervous to tell Katsuki. So, instead, he evaded the question.

I still have to decide that.

Another thing that joined the pile of things he couldn't yet talk to Katsuki about, but wanted to soon. When Izuku turned off his phone again, he wondered, not for the first time, when he'd be able to work through that particular stack of to do's.

February was also the month wedding plans began to take over. Even for Izuku, despite the fact that he was neither the bride nor the groom.

On the following weekend, so many different appointments were lined up back to back that he had to take out the whole Saturday for it.
Granted, he didn't have much to do in his free time anyway, but he would have at least done some grocery shopping and cleaning today. Now it would have to wait until tomorrow. What came now was Ochako choosing her dress.

Naturally, Iida didn't accompany his fiancé. They were not the type of couple to break with such a tradition. Since Iida was not supposed to get a look at the dress until the day of the wedding, Ochako had needed someone else to give her feedback and help her with her decision. And then it pretty much came down to the question of who was better suited for the job than the bride's very own best man?

In Izuku's opinion Toga and Tsuyu would have likely been better as a choice than him, but Ochako adamantly fought any such implications when he tried mentioning them to her, so he gave in, resigned himself to his fate. Though she wouldn't explain why exactly it had to be him of all people.

Izuku genuinely doubted he could give an opinion on the dresses that would be of much value to her, but Ochako didn't fail to assure him of the opposite.

She wanted him there since she needed a, and he was quoting her here, "male perspective" to weigh into the decision making process, so he showed up at the first bridal shop at the hour they had agreed on and not a minute late, albeit he still didn't understand why exactly a male perspective was needed on a wedding dress of all things. Then again, he was almost sure she had said that as a pretext.

Hours later, Izuku sat on one of the Chesterfield Couches inside the third bridal shop they were visiting that day. Funny that, he had never thought he would even set foot into just one, and now he had convinced himself of the opposite three times in one day already.

It's not exactly easy. Stomaching this. Seeing Ochako like this. Not that he still had feelings for her. It would feel just as straining if it was anyone else Izuku had to watch trying on dresses for a wedding.

He didn't handle it so well to see people accomplishing things he thought he'd genuinely never manage to get. So, if it came down to it, he was probably jealous of her. A wedding. That was nowhere near where Izuku saw any of his paths converge.

The one thing that made it easier was that it wasn't just anyone, but Ochako. It didn't take him the slightest effort to be happy for her.

And when things got tough still, he could always text Katsuki. That had become a good distraction lately. It was good to know that he had this option. If nothing else put him at ease today, this did. Whenever his nerves flared up momentarily, he remembered this.

Ochako emerged from the changing rooms then, strutting down the small aisle and all that Izuku saw for a while was just – white. She worked the walkway that led all the way up to where Izuku was, dragging waves of tulle behind her, which, upon second glance, slowly dissolved into an image Izuku could recognize as more than just mountains of fabric.
It turned out as an oversized princess dress with a voluminous skirt, but tight from the waist up. Really tight. Izuku had learned the terms earlier today at the first shop, when the employee there had pressed different bridal catalogues into his hands in lieu of, say, refreshers. Refreshments would have been more to his taste, but he tried not to complain today for Ochako's sake.

"Oh, have I told you?" Ochako started, while glancing across him into one of the wall mirrors, still forming a mental judgement about the dress, "I just started a new job."

Since Ochako worked as an actress, "a new job" usually meant a completely new role on a completely different set. Opportunities like that were sparse, though, for the time being, whenever she wasn't playing a new character, she worked as a staff member on the sets instead. Presumably networking. At least that's what Izuku would have done in her place.

"Oh great, what job?"

She did a turn, to scrutinizingly regard something at the back of the dress, "I'm working on a TV series, as a lead."

That came as a surprise. Not that Ochako didn't have the talent and skill, it was just that huge of a thing in general.

"Wow, that's- congratulations. Now I can really see why you were so stressed out as of late. When does the shooting start?"

"In just a couple of weeks. The first season will be wrapped up in under three, so it'll all fit neatly before the wedding. Then again, I'm not sure how to do all of it, I cannot really afford to not plan and organize anything for three weeks. All of my dreams are kind of beginning to come true, and I couldn't have asked for more in a lifetime. Only it's all happening at the same time , which really does put me in a bit of a pickle."

"I'm here now, and I'll help you where I can. And I'm sure Iida will be able to break away from work during that time. If he doesn't get the idea himself, I'll personally kick his ass for you."

"Thank you, Izu." She said, exhaustedly, with a subdued laugh to her tone that died down when she fiddled with the zipper of the dress she was wearing. It was on the back, so she had a hard time closing it fully. Wordlessly, Izuku stood up to lend her a hand.

"Tell me more about that work thing." It was obvious that she must be very excited because of it. That was her first big role. Like, ever. She'd had a ton of extra roles so far, but never a leading one until now.

"Izuku, you wouldn't believe it."

"Wouldn't believe what?" He followed up amusedly.

"The male lead for the show is my favorite actor."

"The one from dangerous love?"

"Yeah exactly. I didn't even know he was up for the role. He was in America for something else until rather recently you know."

"Oh wow. Lucky you." For measure, he asked, "How big of a thing is that?"

She thought for a moment, "Imagine if the actress for Melissa from the All Might Movies came to your chancellery to request you on a lawsuit."

"Oh wow." Izuku repeated, a tad more breathless this time, "That is a big thing." He had no idea how he'd react to a scenario like that.

They moved over to the mirror so that Ochako could look at herself better than just from afar on the walkway. Izuku dutifully stepped back and let her take in her reflection.

As Ochako's eyes trailed down the dress, they slowly glazed over. She was probably imagining what it would be like to walk down the aisle in this dress on the big day. Izuku could picture it as well. The sash trailed her steps, the skirt billowed, and her waist remained tightly encircled. Arms adorned by the Cinderella sleeves. She would make a sight for the ages.

The wedding would take place at a popular hotel here in Shibuya, that was close to a scenic park, in which the ceremony would be held. As they'd marry in March, it would mean that all the Sakura trees would be in full blossom. Iida had to be ready to get entirely swept off his feet.

To his surprise, Ochako did not choose that dress, though she looked absolutely breathtaking in it in his humble opinion, which he had also told her, since that pretty much summed up his job for the day, the entire reason she'd dragged him there in the first place.

At least she was one step ahead now, knew more about what she liked. That was progress. Additionally, Tenya's mother had negotiated a veto over the dresses as a condition of her and Tenya's father financing the wedding, so Ochako would have to clear the decision with her anyway. What Izuku thought of that was irrelevant, but he just hoped Ochako wouldn't let her interfere too much.

To the cake trials he accompanied her because it was convenient. Iida couldn't make it today, and since this wasn't the only bakery they favored, he didn't miss out much by sitting this one out.

For them, they had to go to a fancy bakery in a more expensive part of Ginza. It was so close to Katsuki's flat that Izuku couldn't help but wonder if he was familiar with this shop. How likely was it that he himself sometimes even came here to buy pastries? Maybe that was something he did when his friends came over to his flat. He'd be familiar with the newest trends in baking, if Ibara King Melon flavor was up and coming or rather Matcha, and knew the best places to get exactly which goods from.

The bakery had prepared a total of three cakes for them to try today. When Ochako and him got there, everything was already prepared. They were shown to their table, and in less than a minute, plates with all three samples were placed in front of them, a fork pressed into their hands each.
And Izuku really had to give it to them, they didn't make it awkward when they inevitably assumed him to be the groom to be at first and he went to clear up the misunderstanding. They rolled with it and the trial moved on in no time.

It's when he got one bite of the first one down, something with lemon zest buttercream coat and raspberry filling the bakery owners had said, that the topic fell onto him for the first time that day.

"And, how have you been this year so far? How has your Christmas been?"

Since Izuku's been thinking of Christmas all too much these past couple of days, he didn't blush now being asked about it again.

"Oh, I'm good. Christmas was good." He pressed out after swallowing.

"Really?" Ochako sounded in doubt, "I'm really sorry again that I couldn't drive you or spend it with you. And that you couldn't see your mom."

"Uhm, actually, I did." How could he quickly change the topic?

"Oh, how so? Did the mechanic actually manage to repair your car?"

"No. Actually, uh, someone else drove me?" He said it so hesitantly that at the end it sounded more like a question than a definite statement.

Ochako's eyes grew big. "Oh my god. Did you rekindle the flame with your secret lover? Or is it someone new again? From the dating app?"

It was so like her to immediately assume some romantic twist of fate had been at play here. Deep down, somewhere in between and even on surface level, she was a romantic. However, she was alluding to Shoto, so no matter how much he'd like to indulge her normally, Izuku had to let her down.

"No, nothing like that. It was actually a different friend." He could practically feel as he shoveled his own grave with his words.

He had never told her about Katsuki, despite how long Izuku and her had been friends. In the last ten years, he hadn't thought it would ever become relevant again.
Clearly, a misconception, that. It was astounding how quickly times could change. But should he really have this conversation with her now? So close to her wedding, he didn't want to make her upset.

"What friend?" The surprise at his words was written all over her face.

Izuku put on a smile that he hoped didn't look strained. "Did I say friend? He's not really a friend. I meant, like, a friend of a friend, of the person I had dated." Some of the syllables, he'd dragged out too much. He'd never been the best liar under pressure. Then again, none of what he'd said really classified as a lie, which was on purpose, so it shouldn't be too obvious to her that he was nervous.

A second passed, but then, luckily for him, she took the bait he'd planted in there.

Ochako put the fork down in sudden excitement. "Now, you have to tell me more about that whole thing. And I won't let you fob me off again this time. Give me all the details, and do make haste."

"Now why did you just say that as if you're a 19th century spinster lusting for gossip?" It was a gift that she responded so predictably to romantic gossip.

Also predictably, she rolled her eyes at him then. "Don't change the subject. Tell me everything. Now."

And so he did, told her in short about how Shoto and him had met and how they had started dating, though he left out any of the instances Katsuki showed up on the scene. That was for another day.