Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Katsuki walks into his house and stops at the genkan.

Something’s wrong.

He looks down the dark hall leading into their home and finds light spilling out of their dining room. Katsuki checks the time and his frown deepens. It’s late—why is Deku still awake?

He shrugs his coat off and steps out of his shoes, the polished wood creaking loudly under his feet as he makes his way toward the light. Upon getting closer, he starts to hear music playing, and Katsuki recognizes it instantly—it’s their wedding song.

He caught it just as it was ending, the last chords fading into silence. Katsuki was just about to push the door open, when he heard the familiar sound of a CD rewinding itself back to the beginning. Then, the first chords of the new song comes in, and Katsuki quickly realizes that this was the first playlist he had made for him from back when they were still dating, and when a romantic playlist was as good a Valentine’s day gift as any.

So why is his husband listening to a fifteen-year old playlist at two in the morning?

Katsuki ignores the unease prickling under his skin as he pushes the door to the dining room open.

“Deku?”

He finds him seated at their dining table, staring quietly at an empty plate. 

Then he sees the half-melted candles, the vase of orange chrysanthemums, and a spread of Katsuki's favorite dishes on their finest china, laid over a gorgeous embroidered tablecloth.

He recalls buying that tablecloth from some little store in Kinosaki, where they had their honeymoon. The old lady who sold it to them had made it by hand, and it was one of a kind, with prayers for a successful marriage stitched into the hem.

It was so beautiful and delicate that they both agreed to only use it on special occasions.

Like birthdays.

Or anniversaries.

A pit dropped in Katsuki’s stomach.

Yesterday was their 10th anniversary.

And Katsuki had missed it.

Fuck.

His hand drifts toward his dead phone. Deku had been reminding him for days before. He’s been looking forward to it all week and with good reason—this was supposed to be their first date night in almost a year.

A year ago, Katsuki got a huge promotion at work, but while his pay tripled, his workload did too. He began to manage more international accounts, which meant his work hours also changed to match their overseas clientele.

Deku would be asleep by the time he got home, and he'd be gone to work by the time Katsuki woke up. The last time their days off matched was months ago, and back then, Katsuki had been too tired to do anything more special than watch a movie on their couch.

So when he had told Deku that he could get off work early for their anniversary date, the nerd had been so excited. Hell, he even sent Katsuki several texts earlier that afternoon, reminding him, and Katsuki had promised he’d be home on time.

But that was before he was pulled into the longest overtime of his career. Some executive messed-up big time on a major deal, and the company was scrambling to fix it before they lost millions of dollars. On top of that, Katsuki’s phone died and he couldn’t find anyone with the same charger he used. And so, amidst the chaos at work, he had forgotten about their anniversary dinner completely.

He looks at the wall clock. Deku’s been waiting for nearly seven hours.

Guilt twists inside his gut as Katsuki loosens his tie nervously, bracing himself for the impending fight.

“Nerd?”

Deku doesn’t respond. Katsuki moves closer, unnerved by the closed off expression on his husband’s face.

It looks wrong on him. Deku has always worn his heart on his sleeve, ever since they were in diapers. Always the first to cry, the first to smile. Though he may try to hide it, his large, overly-expressive eyes always gave him away.

So Katsuki expected to see tears, hear hiccuping sobs, or maybe even get a furious slap to the face.

Anything but this eerie silence.

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki says, kneeling by Deku’s side and placing his hand over his. “I’m so sorry for missing our date, baby. Today was hell at work and dinner completely slipped my mind. I know I should’ve called or texted but my phone died and I—”

“Have you eaten?”

Katsuki recoils, stunned by Deku’s even tone. He still won’t look at him.

“Uh, yeah, they ordered us pizza but—”

“Okay.”

Deku gently pulls his hand away.

Katsuki watches him calmly rise from seat and start gathering the dishes without another word. He doesn’t know what else to do so he helps out instead, taking the rest of the dishes that Deku couldn’t carry and following him back to the kitchen while still bewildered by his husband’s reaction.

Instead of placing the dishes on the sink or transferring their contents to plastic containers to be stored in the fridge, Izuku suddenly and unceremoniously dumped them all in the trash.

“Deku, what the hell?!”

“It’s alright,” Deku answers coolly as he takes the remaining dishes from Katsuki’s hands. “We won’t be using them again.

The sound of shattering porcelain echoes throughout their kitchen.

Before Katsuki can say a word, Deku’s making his way back to the dining room, gathering the rest of the stuff set on the table.

The candles and flowers were discarded.

Katsuki snaps out of his shock just in time to grab Deku’s wrist before he could throw out their special tablecloth too. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Deku shrugs. “There’s no point in keeping those anymore.”

“Ha? The fuck do you mean by that?”

“It means, I give up.”

Katsuki stops.

“… what?”

“I give up, Kacchan,” Deka declares slowly, as he finally looks up to meet Katsuki’s furious gaze. His green eyes are dull and devoid of their usual warmth. “I give up.”

“What—” Katsuki swallows harshly, heart pounding in his chest. “What the hell are you saying?”

Deku sighs. His shoulders slump and whatever mask he’s been wearing finally slips off, revealing someone who looks so… tired.

“I’m saying I’m done with this. With us.” He wrenches his hand free of Katsuki’s grip, and Katsuki feels the world tilt out of its axis.

“I’m leaving you, Katsuki.”

The silence that followed was the longest silence of Katsuki’s life. As the seconds ticked by, Katsuki saw Deku’s expression shift, his eyes heavy with a sadness so deep Katsuki couldn't understand it. He couldn’t understand anything.

“Why?” He finally brings himself to ask.

Deku drops his gaze again, and he begins fiddling with his wedding band. Every twist that loosened it felt like a noose slowly tightening around Katsuki’s neck.

“I,” he starts, after another tense silence. “I can’t remember what it feels like. To be loved by you.”

Katsuki’s thoughts screech to a halt.

What?

“I missed one dinner,” he states in disbelief.

That makes Deku look up. “One dinner?” He echoes, his expression twisting into incredulous rage. “Kacchan, the last time we spent more than an hour together was the night we celebrated your promotion. Which was a year ago. In that time, you missed your birthday, my birthday, and all the holidays. You—” He stops and takes a shuddering breath.  

“You weren’t there when we pulled mom off life-support.”

Ice fills Katsuki’s veins. He remembers that afternoon clearly, the multiple phone calls he kept ignoring while he was in the middle of a meeting, and the single text from Deku afterward, with two words: “She’s gone.”

“She would’ve wanted you to be there,” Deku adds, his voice growing small. “Like she was there for you after auntie and uncle died. But you couldn't even spare a minute to send her off.”

"I," Katsuki fights against the lump in his throat. "I-I told you there was an emergency at work."

“There’s always an emergency!” Deku snaps back, his eyes now filled with tears. “These past months, you—no.” He shakes his head ruefully. “In the last five years since you got that job, you’ve grown more distant. Before I knew it, I had become just another extra in your life.”

"No, Deku, you're not—"

"Kacchan," Deku cuts him off. "When was the last time you kissed me?"

Katsuki opens his mouth, ready to answer, only to find himself at a loss for words.

He... he can’t remember.

"I thought so," Deku says, laughing bitterly as he wipes off the tears that had spilled out. “You know, a month ago I was cleaning the attic and I found this box of our old stuff. Photo albums from college. Love notes we used to pass in class. Cassette tapes from your dad’s video recorder, the one we used to make those cheesy home videos of our dates.”

Deku looks over at a framed photo propped up on the refrigerator. It was old, maybe from nine years ago, shortly after their wedding.

Back when they had still been living paycheck-to-paycheck in a tiny apartment, before Katsuki got the high-paying job that bought them their two-story house now.

“I watched one of those old videos,” Deku whispers, yet the longing in his voice rings loud and clear. “And I hardly recognized myself.” He looks back at Katsuki. “I looked so happy back then.”

A terrible realization dawns on Katsuki—there are no recent photos of them anywhere.

“And since then, every time I had to go to bed all alone, I couldn’t help but wonder—will I...will I ever be that happy again?”

Deku’s despair is palpable now, like tar slowly filling the space around them, and Katsuki reaches for him, desperate to comfort the man he loves, but then Deku flinches back, hands rising between them like a shield.

As if to say that his touch is no longer welcome.

That Katsuki is no longer welcome.

"When you said you could make time for our anniversary dinner, I was over the moon. Finally! I'm the priority again!" He lets out the same broken laugh from before. "You once said I can be too optimistic at times. You were right. I dared to hope and got burned in the end."

"Deku, Izuku, please," Katsuki croaks, still reaching for him, but Deku keeps moving out of his reach.

"I love you, Kacchan," Deku continues brokenly. "If you measured the universe end to end, my love for you would still be bigger. But even then, I can't love enough for the both of us. I shouldn't have to."

A sense of impending doom suddenly grips Katsuki's heart. Like hearing the roar before an avalanche falls or smelling ozone before a storm, somehow, he can feel it coming—the tragic end to their decades-long story.

And he doesn’t know how to stop it.

"Tell me what I need to do to make this right," Katsuki pleads, ready to get on his knees and beg if he has to because not even his pride is worth losing the love of his life for good. “Whatever you want, I’ll do it! I’ll quit my job! I’ll stay at home! Let me fix this! I love you, Izuku! I love you! So please stay! Please!”

He keeps his hand outstretched, waiting, praying that Deku will take it.

The same way he’s done ever since they were kids. Katsuki just needs him to take his hand one more time.

But Deku simply looks down at it and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Kacchan. It’s too little, too late.”

He pulls the wedding ring off his finger and Katsuki’s heart drops to the floor.

"I can't lose myself anymore than I already have."

He steps forward and presses a kiss on Katsuki’s lips. And like the selfish man he is, Katsuki pulls him closer and deepens the kiss, taking whatever he can take.

For one hopeful second, it felt like Deku was kissing him back.

But then arms slipped between them again, and Katsuki felt himself being shoved away. His eyes fly open when something cold is pressed against his palm.

"I already packed my things in the car before you arrived. I only waited because I wanted to say good-bye."

Katsuki looks down and finds Deku’s wedding ring in his hand.

"Deku—"

"Good-bye, Katsuki."

————

Katsuki doesn’t go to work the next day—his first time calling in sick in five years.

Without Deku, the rules of time seemed to change. While the clock ticked on, steady in rhythm, somehow, each hour stretched out for miles, passing like a thousand camera frames showcased one by one.

All color had faded into muted grays and blues. People around him became indistinguishable pixels, like 2D characters on low-quality TV.

Nothing made sense with Deku gone.

Then the divorce papers came in the mail a week later.

Katsuki’s heart shattered upon seeing Deku’s signature and stamped seal on the crisp white paper over his name. He called off work again and drunk himself into a stupor. And whenever he wasn’t passed out on the couch—he couldn’t bring himself to sleep on their bed—he’d wander around their big, empty house, tormenting himself with every single thing that reminded him of the nerd.

He eventually discovered the clothes Deku had accidentally left behind in the hamper. In the throes of his despair, Katsuki took them and dumped them all on the bed, creating some kind of nest for himself. It’s ironic how desperately craved Deku’s presence now, when just a week ago he could go a whole day not thinking about his husband. Ex-husband.

At first, Katsuki had refused to sign the papers, still holding onto hope that Deku would change his mind and come back.

After all, they had known each other since they were in diapers. They’ve overcome worse than this. They were Deku and Kacchan—they were endgame.

He didn't want to give him up! He didn't want to lose Deku!

And yet the whole universe seemed to conspire against him.

Katsuki had tried to track him down, only to find out that Deku had quit his job and moved somewhere else.

Their friends were suddenly tight-lipped and hostile, refusing to tell him anything about Deku's whereabouts.

Even his requests for extended PTO were denied.

Then, around two weeks after Deku left, Katsuki received a notice from Deku’s lawyer, stating that they were going to press charges if Katsuki kept stonewalling their divorce.

And that’s when the reality of their break-up truly sunk in. 

People say that time heals all wounds, but even after two months already passed, the pieces of Katsuki’s broken heart continued to fester. Though he tried to bury himself in work so he wouldn’t have to think about how his entire world had shattered, no matter how busy he got, the hollowness in his chest wouldn’t go away.

He couldn’t sleep. He could hardly eat. His work performance began to reflect his deteriorating mental state, and he started getting reprimands and warnings from his superiors.

Until one day, about three months after their divorce was finalized, Katsuki messed up at work one time too many. And received a final notice later that day—he was fired.

Katsuki stares at the paper, feeling numb all over.

That’s it? After all the years he had given this company, at the cost of his own marriage, they were throwing him away, just like that?

Katsuki rises from his seat and grabs his bag. He pauses, then reaches for the one personal item he has on his desk—a photo of Deku on their wedding day.

The nerd had looked so radiant back then. So fucking happy. He had believed everything Katsuki promised him, had trusted him when he took an oath to put his husband’s happiness and comfort above everything else. 

When did Katsuki forget?

When did his promises turn into lies?

He feels so lost and alone, completely stripped of purpose. Katsuki drives out of the company’s parking lot with no clear destination in mind. Outside, a storm is raging. Rain pelts against his windshield in a torrential downpour. The world fades to gray.

As he makes his way back home to a house too big for one person, Katsuki sends a prayer out to the universe.

He asks to see Deku again. Just one more time to properly apologize for everything.

His phone suddenly rings. Katsuki’s heart nearly jumps out of his chest. It’s the All Might ringtone, the special one he assigned to Deku’s number years ago. Katsuki takes one hand off the wheel to dig the phone out of his bag. It’s stuck between some folders. He turns his head for a second to fish it out and…

…he doesn’t see the truck coming.

All Katsuki saw was a blur of colors as his car flew into the air. There was a moment of weightlessness, glass shards floating around him, his bag tossed and its contents spilling out. 

Then came the drop.

It takes a moment before his vision clears and he realizes that he’s upside down. Blood drips to the ceiling from a wound on his head. His chest, his stomach… Everything hurts. He looks around him and catches sight of something green.

It’s Deku’s picture from his desk.

Katsuki barks out a bitter laugh, blood spraying from his mouth.

How cruel that the last thing he’d see before he dies is Deku’s smile, and it isn’t even the real thing.

But after making the love of his life endure a shitty marriage for years, this is all Katsuki deserves.

His vision begins to blur. He coughs out another spurt of blood. As cliche as it sounds, Katsuki’s whole life flashes before his eyes. 

And unsurprisingly, every important moment and memory he has include that familiar shade of green.

Ah. Well. 

Maybe in his next life, he’ll be a better husband.

“Hello? Are you okay?”

Katsuki’s eyes fly open.

A shadow blocks the light from the outside. A part of Katsuki wonders when it had stopped raining. Then, his car door suddenly disappears.

“Hey!”

Katsuki gasps.

Green.

“D-Deku?”

“Oh my god.”

Deku’s here. He’s actually here. Those wild green curls, freckled cheeks, and big, green eyes are unmistakable. 

Except… he’s dressed weird.

He’s wearing some kind of dark green bodysuit, with long white gloves and a red utility belt. Did he come from a costume party or something? And, wait… is that green electricity sparking around him? 

Oh.

Maybe this is some kind of death vision. Or it’s a shinigami, taking the nerd’s form to make Katsuki’s passing easier.

“How is this possible?” He hears Deku muttering under his breath. Katsuki can’t understand most of it, but he catches strange words like “quirk accident” and “doppelgänger”.

Fuck, this death vision really sounds like the nerd. He even got the muttering right.

“Deku.” Katsuki reaches for his hand and this time, Deku doesn’t stop him. Instead, the nerd gasps, panicked.

“Don’t move!” He shouts, staring at Katsuki’s stomach as if he was looking at their tax returns. “You’ve been impaled!”

“Huh?” Katsuki follows his gaze and discovers a piece of metal jutting out of his abdomen.

“That doesn’t look too bad,” he jokes weakly. His pain is actually fading now. Everything’s going cold and numb.

He looks back at Deku and sees his face pinch into that familiar look he gets when he encounters a difficult problem, like how much detergent to load, or which All Might merch he’s going to buy. Katsuki can’t stop himself from snorting fondly at it. God, he missed this nerd so fucking much.

He probably won’t make it, but it’s okay. He’s glad he got to see Deku one last time, even if it is most definitely a hallucination.

“I love you, Izuku,” Katsuki whispers, and Deku’s jaw drops in shock. His lips curl into a sad smile as he weakly squeezes his hand. “I’m so sorry for being such a shitty husband.”

“H-Husband?” Deku sputters, his shock shifting to confusion. “You’re not my—”

“Oi, nerd! What the hell is taking you so long?”

Deku jumps back to his feet. “Kacchan!”

Kacchan?

Another pair of boots join Deku’s.

Katsuki can’t see who it is, nor can he hear what Deku was saying to this other person who he also called… Kacchan?

“No way!” Is the one thing he catches before another shadow falls over him. Katsuki looks over and finds… his own face staring back.

Besides the strange mask, the neon-orange X on a black tank-top, and the cool-looking grenade-inspired gauntlets, this guy looks exactly like him.

Same spiky ash-blond hair and red eyes wide with disbelief.

“Holy shit” they both gasp right before Katsuki’s vision fades to black.

Chapter Text

Katsuki wakes up to harsh fluorescent lighting and finds his own face glaring down at him.

“The fuck?” He smacks it.

“Ow! The hell!”

“Get your ugly mug away from me.”

“We have the same face, asshole!” His clone grabs his collar, but another hand clamps over the imposter’s wrist, pulling it back.

“Kacchan, stop it!”

Seeing those worried green eyes makes Katsuki abruptly sit up, but then a sharp pain rips through his guts.

“Fuck!” He hisses, collapsing back on the bed. “Sonovabitch that hurts!”

“Oh no, I think you ripped your stitches!”

“Ha, serve you right!”

“Kacchan, hurry and call the nurse?”

“Ha?! Why do I have to do it—”

“NOW!”

His clone clicks his tongue and throws Katsuki a look of distrust before storming out of the… hospital room?

Katsuki blinks, slowly taking in his surroundings. White walls and a white bed. The smell of antiseptic. A monitor beside him, beeping steadily. Wires and IVs attached to his arms and chest. 

And Deku.

Katsuki stares hard, drinking in his features, from the mossy green hair and viridian eyes, down to the last freckle doting his face.

It’s really him.

“You’re here,” he says, reaching out again. But he hesitates right before touching Deku’s face, remembering the night his husband flinched away.

This time, however, Deku remains stock-still, watching him with a mix of confusion and awe.

So Katsuki goes for it, gingerly cupping the man’s cheeks, a form of giddiness erupting inside him as he feels the warm and soft skin against his palm. He hopes this pudge of baby fat will never go away.

Relief and disbelief hits him at the same time—Deku is truly here, he’s not a death-induced hallucination. He’s here, by his side again, after all those horrible months of estrangement.

Deku suddenly reaches for him, a hand going up to cup Katsuki’s cheek too, and Katsuki immediately leans into it, closing his eyes and soaking the moment in. He feels Deku’s thumb brush something away.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki chuckles wetly. “It sucks.”

“Just hang in there, okay?”

Deku smiles and fuck, Katsuki wants to kiss him.

“Kacchan should be back with help soon!”

Katsuki frowns.

Oh, right. That guy.

“Why does he look like me?”

“Um, well.” Deku’s smile falters into a nervous line and he starts to pull away. Katsuki immediately grabs his wrist, panicking at the thought of losing him again.

“Please,” he croaks. “Please don’t leave me again, Izuku.”

Just then, the door burst open, and a pair of nurses and a doctor rushed inside.

His clone storms in just seconds after, eyes narrowed on Katsuki’s hand.

“Let go of my husband, shithead!”

The imposter pulls Deku away, wrapping his arms around his waist protectively as he growls at Katsuki like some kind of rabid guard dog.

“ Your husband?” He snarls back, fists balled and ready to fight. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but one thing’s for sure: Deku is my husband!”

“You better have a concussion or I’m gonna give you one! This nerd is mine and mine alone!”

“Say that one more time and I’m gonna cave your skull in!”

“Ha! I’d like to see you try!”

Katsuki tries to lunge at him, only to be stopped by… shadowy black tendrils? And they’re coming out of Deku’s hand? What the fuck?

“Katsuki, enough.”

He didn’t specify which one he was talking to, but his tone was all they needed to hear. Whoever or whatever his doppelgänger is, he seems to know it too by the way he stiffens and steps back, shoulder bowed in apology.

Deku gives the doctor an exasperated look, and the elderly man simply shakes his head in amusement. 

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re in high spirits, Mister—”

“Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki.”

His evil twin snorts as if to say something, but Deku gives him a look that immediately shuts him up. Katsuki smirks, feeling smug for a second until Deku directs that same look at him.

The doctor clears his throat. “Right. Um, Mr. Bakugou, while I examine your stitches, maybe Hero Deku can enlighten you about your, er, situation.”

Katsuki cocks an eyebrow at Deku who begins to fidget, chewing on his bottom lip and fiddling with his fingers in that nervous way that Katsuki always found adorable.

"Um, there's no easy way to explain this," he starts. "But you're a long way from home, Katsuki."

Katsuki stops at the door, struggling to balance the bags of groceries in his arms as he pushes the key into the lock.

This is the first time he was allowed to go out unchaperoned since his discharge two weeks ago, and it’s only because his doppelgänger was finally convinced that he isn’t some villain in disguise.

Because apparently, shapeshifters exist here.

As did Superheroes and Supervillains. It’s a world straight out of the comic books he and Deku once loved, where the majority of humans were born with some kind of ability or “Quirk” as they called it.

And it was some kid’s Quirk that brought him here. Poor boy lost control while walking down the street and ended up tearing a hole through the fabric of the multiverse, a hole that Katsuki had accidentally driven through while he was deep in the throes of his despair.

And as if his luck hadn’t been shit enough, the portal landed him straight in the path of a speeding truck driven by villains that Deku and this world’s Katsuki had been pursuing.

Because that’s part of their job as Pro-heroes. Super-powered peacekeepers. Like the Avengers, but with a lot more accountability.

His clone, Bakugou, went by the alias “Dynamight” which was a reference to his quirk. 

Bastard can shoot explosions out of his hands. Katsuki hated to admit it, but it was pretty damn cool.

What wasn’t cool though, was how that asshole tried to turn Katsuki over to police custody the first chance he got, passing him over like a hot potato. He even suggested that Katsuki be put in jail until they were 100% sure he was as harmless as he claimed to be.

It was only through Deku's intervention—his nerd was a saint in any universe—that Katsuki found himself living in their guest bedroom.

He pauses by the genkan to remove his shoes, and that’s when he hears soft music playing from somewhere in the dark apartment.

It’s their wedding song.

He freezes, suddenly overcome by a sense of deja vu.

Heart pounding, Katsuki sets the bags down and quietly makes his way down the hall.

He reaches the living room and finds all the furniture pushed back to the walls, opening up a space at the center. Only a few lamps are open, casting a soft, warm glow that fills the room.

And there, standing barefoot together on the plush carpet, are Izuku and his Kacchan.

They were slow dancing.

Katsuki remained hidden in the shadows as the two swayed to the music, their bodies pressed together so closely he could hardly see where one man ended and the other began.

They haven't acknowledged Katsuki yet, either still oblivious of his return or electing to ignore him completely.

Both have their eyes closed, and Katsuki can't recall the last time his own face looked so... relaxed. Content.

Absolutely at home in his husband's arms.

And Izuku...

A lump appears in Katsuki’s throat.

The song reaches its chorus and Bakugou whispers something into Izuku’s ear, making him laugh. The smile on his face is different from his usual cheery front. There’s a tenderness to this one, a vulnerability that proves his adamantine trust in the man before him.

It makes the tightness in Katsuki’s throat grow.

He can’t remember the last time his Deku had smiled at him that way.

The two men continued to move through the steps of the waltz, where Bakugou led and Izuku followed, their movements as natural as breathing. They’ve been married for ten years, just like Katsuki and his Deku were, and yet these two danced to their wedding song as if the reception had been yesterday.

And as the music progressed and the two continued to glide across the room, eyes solely on each other, Katsuki was suddenly transported back to a different place and time.

In this memory, he and Deku were dancing that same waltz under the stars.

They were married outdoors.

That night, the air was cool and crisp, the sky so clear and lovely that even if they had rented a huge tent for the reception, the festivities soon spilled outside. Music from their live band mixed with the distant sound of crashing waves on Dagobah beach.

The stars cast a soft glow on Deku's face, making him look breathtaking, almost ethereal.

Katsuki can't recall all the details, but he remembers feeling overwhelmed by how lucky he was to be married to Deku.

He had thought, had believed, that as long as they were together, that would be enough for him.

When did everything change?

When did his career and ambition take center stage?

The sound of Izuku's laughter snaps him back to the present.

Bakugou had gone off book and suddenly tipped him into a low dip, earning a delighted squeal from the nerd. Izuku retaliates by pulling him down too, and both of them fall on the carpeted floor, laughing wildly.

Then, Bakugou straddles him and gives him a kiss, which Izuku eagerly reciprocates.

Katsuki turns away.

This is too painful to watch. Everything about Izuku and Bakugou and their amazing life together had been too painful to watch. He clutches his chest, his breath rattling with the shards of his broken heart.

A thousand “what if’s” go through his head. What if he had been more attentive? What if he actually took his days off more seriously? What if he had tried to go home earlier?”

A thousand regrets cutting into him one by one and all at once.

It’s a slow and agonizing torture, with no end in sight.

“Katsuki?” 

Katsuki jumps, realizing he’s been caught. He turns to see Izuku scrambling back to his feet, his face twisted in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Katsuki reaches up and finds his cheeks wet with tears.

Oh. He didn’t even realize.

In a flash, Izuku was in front of him, hands looking him over. “Are you hurt? Did something happen while you were out? Oh no, I knew it! It was too early to let you go on your own. Kacchan or I should've come with you!"

He continues rambling and fussing over Katsuki, and it’s just too much.

Because this is exactly how his Deku would've reacted. This kindness, this warmth, they are exactly the same.

And yet… Izuku isn’t his.

Even his Deku isn’t “his” anymore.

"Fuck," Katsuki sobs, roughly wiping his cheeks. But the tears won’t stop. “Fuck.”

Suddenly, a hand grabs his collar and begins hauling him out of the living room.”

"Kacchan! Wait—"

"The fuck are you—"

"We'll be back," Kacchan replies, dragging a struggling Katsuki to the guest room.

"He and I need to talk."

Deku bites his lip, eyes flicking back and forth between the two blondes. 

"Okay, I trust you," he sighs. "I'll call you once dinner’s ready.”

“Don’t ruin my favorite frying pan again.”

Izuku huffs. “That was one time!”

Bakugou gives him a quick kiss before dragging Katsuki toward the guest room. He curses when Bakugou roughly shoves him toward the bed.

“What the hell is your problem?” He snarls. Bakugou rolls his eyes as he remains standing by the door, his arms crossed.

“What did you do?”

“Ha? The fuck are you talking about?”

“Cut the bullshit,” Bakugou scoffs. “I know that look. I know you.“

“You,” Katsuki growls. “You have no fucking idea what I’m—”

“You lost him, didn’t you?”

Katsuki stops.

“…what?”

Bakugou sighs and runs his hand through his hair. "The nerd told me about what you said to him, back when he found you in the crash." He raises an eyebrow. "Something about being a shitty husband?"

Katsuki looks away.

“And then back in the hospital, you asked him not to leave you. ‘Again’,” he adds, scowling. “Didn’t take long to put two n’ two together.”

“Congratulations,” says Katsuki mockingly. “You figured out how shitty my life is. What, you here to gloat about your perfect life?”

Bakugou doesn’t immediately reply. Instead he crosses the room and sits down on the chair by the desk.

“You think my life is perfect?”

“You have Izuku,” Katsuki spits. “Of course it is.”

A strange look crosses Bakugou’s face. He leans back, eyes flicking to the ceiling in a pensive way. After a moment of silence, he sighs: “Yeah, I have him now. But if I had a yen for each I nearly lost him to a villain or to his own martyr complex, well, fuck.” He laughs hollowly. “I’d be a millionaire.”

Katsuki’s frown deepens. “Huh?”

“It’s this job,” Bakugou replies grimly. “It’s no cakewalk.” He raises his shirt and Katsuki gasps.

He didn’t think a human could have that many scars and still be alive.

“Believe me, the nerd has twice more than these.”

And Katsuki finally sees it.

That familiar, haunted look in those red eyes.

“I don’t know how you lost your Deku,” Bakugou continues. “But I promise you, there’s nothing worse than waiting by a hospital bed, completely helpless, and wondering if the love of your life will wake up."

Katsuki has nothing to say to that.

Just the mere idea of Deku being hurt or dying is enough to send him reeling.

To think that Bakugou faced that possibility everyday. 

Shit.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, only for the other blond to snort and roll his eyes again.

"I don't need your damn pity,” he snaps. "I just told you this so you'll know you ain't special. Your pain ain't special. Stop acting like it is.”

"You're not alone," seems to be what he’s trying to say.

It made Katsuki feel better, somehow.

"Okay," he answers, finally giving in. "What do you want to know?"

Bakugou narrowed his eyes on him.

"Everything. Tell me everything.”

Once Katsuki started, he couldn't stop.

After months with no one in his corner, and no family or friends left to confide in, finally being able to talk to someone about everything offered a catharsis Katsuki didn't know he needed.

He started from childhood, when he first met Deku in the neighborhood daycare.

He told him about their rough patch in middle school, about them repairing their friendship in high school, then going to the same university where they officially started dating. They got married just two years after graduation.

He talked about the early years of their marriage. The lazy morning kisses, flirting in the kitchen, burning their breakfast because they were too distracted with each other. Back then, they would have dinner together every night, the two of them talking about their day over a hearty meal.

He told him about their hobbies. The monthly hikes. Wearing matching costumes for Halloween. Cuddling on the couch as they binged a new superhero series.

Neither went to sleep without whispering "I love you" at least once.

They didn’t have much in the way of money or material belongings, but their life had been perfect.

Until Katsuki got that new job.

It was a sales position in one of the biggest fashion brands in the country. His dream was to start his own fashion line, and he thought that this was a pretty good place to start.

The plan was to learn as much as he could from the veteran designers, get as many connections, and then move on.

But he never did.

The job began demanding more and more of his time and attention, and before Katsuki knew it, he was accepting one promotion after another, until he ended up in a high position but in a department pretty far from the design unit.

Still, Katsuki had refused to quit.

“You’re an idiot,” Bakugou huffs, but there’s no mockery in his tone. Katsuki lets out a watery laugh.

“Yeah, no shit. I kept thinking I’ll save up a bit more then I’ll quit. I’ll do this and that and then I’ll quit. I kept putting it off for longer and longer and didn’t see what it was doing to my marriage until it was too late.”

He had thought their bond to be more resilient than it was—he thought their love was unbreakable. Like coal tempered into diamonds. It was supposed to be eternal, wasn’t it? Unchanging?

"That's not how relationships work," Bakugou remarks, fiddling with the ring that hung from a silver chain around his neck. "Hey, tell me this: do you love your Deku as much as you did the day you married him?"

Katsuki scowls, offended by the question. “Duh.”

"See, that's your first mistake. Love ain't something that remains static over time. It grows with you." 

Bakugou glances at the door, his eyes growing soft.

"Look at me. Married ten years and yet each day I'm still learning something new about my husband that makes me love him more."

He takes out his phone and opens a TikTok page. “Last month, Deku got hooked into doing those trendy couple dance challenges and he keeps trying to rope me into doing them with him.” He clicks on a video and shows it to Katsuki. “Turns out, the nerd has no swag at all. He gets all nervous and starts flailing like a fish out of water. It was so pathetic, if I wasn’t married to him, I would’ve given him a wedgie.”

Bakugou shakes his head, his lips curled into a fond smile. “But he still kept trying his best to get it right,” he chuckles. “Adorable bastard.”

Katsuki’s heart clenches at the look of pure adoration on Bakugou’s face. Bakugou sees him gawking and he immediately schools his expression back into his signature scowl.

"So you can't tell me you love your husband the exact same amount you did on your wedding day," Bakugou states, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "It should be hundreds, even a thousand times more by now.”

“Whoa,” Katsuki teases. “You sound like those love gurus on the radio.”

“Shut up,” Bakugou hisses, his cheeks growing pink. “You know what the fuck I mean.”

“Okay, yeah,” Katsuki sighs, deflating a little. He looks down at his hand. “But what’s the point of knowing all this? I already screwed up.”

“Hey, even idiots like you deserve a second chance. Besides.” Bakugou pauses, eyes narrowed. “You still love him, right?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Don't give me attitude, asshole, I'm trying to be supportive here."

"My attitude is your attitude, dumbass."

"Holy shit, am I this annoying to other people?"

"Sadly, yes."

Both of them jump when Izuku suddenly materializes by the door. 

"But don't worry, Kacchan, I love you anyway," he winks. "Sorry to interrupt boys, but it's time to eat!"

"Damn babe, will it hurt you to knock?"

"Why didn't you lock it then?" Izuku counters. “You didn't even close it properly.”

"Idiot," Katsuki mutters under his breath.

"Shut up!" Bakugou snaps, red all over. "Deku, give us a few more minutes. Just need to wrap things up."

Izuku giggles. “Wrap up? Kacchan, you're not giving a TED talk.”

"Oh for fuck's sake.”

Izuku raises his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Just don't take too long or the food's gonna get cold."

“Promise.”

Izuku blows him a kiss, which Bakugou catches before flipping him off. Izuku laughs, and the sound echoes down the hall as he makes his way back to the kitchen. Bakugou closes the door with a dreamy little sigh.

"Man, we're so fucking whipped."

"Tell me 'bout it," Bakugou groans, before his face shifts into something more serious.

"So.” He settles back on the desk chair. "What's the plan?"

“Plan? What plan?”

"Your plan to win your Deku back, duh.”

"Oh." Katsuki rubs the back of his neck. "Is that even possible? I mean," he gestures helplessly at himself. "Will he even want me back?"

Bakugou shrugs. “Probably not. You did make his life miserable for half a decade.”

Katsuki’s heart began to sink. “Right.”

“But,” Bakugou continues. “That doesn’t mean he won’t want you back ever again. We don’t know what the future holds, but one thing’s for sure—nothing will ever happen if you keep moping like a lil' bitch." He kicks Katsuki’s shin. 

“”Ow!”

“It's been months. Get off your ass and pull yourself together.”

He gets back on his feet, grinning widely as he puffs his chest. “There isn’t a Bakugou Katsuki in any universe who’d give Midoriya Izuku up without a fight.” He pumps his fist to the air, his wedding band glinting under the fluorescent light. "Because that's not how we roll. We're the fucking Symbol of Victory. We never give up.”

Katsuki stares, slack jawed and speechless. In that one shining moment, he finally understood why someone as amazing as Izuku could love someone like him.

He could be pretty amazing too.

And although it’s probably the greatest of vanities to receive a pep talk from "himself", it was undeniably effective.

Suddenly, Katsuki could breathe again.

The pain is still there, but it’s tempered into a dull, more manageable throb that motivated rather than paralyzed him.

For the first time in months, Katsuki felt hope.

"I don't have a plan yet," he admits, holding Bakugou's gaze. "But I'll figure it out."

Bakugou searches his face and looks satisfied with whatever it is he found. 

Then he kicks Katsuki's shin again.

"Motherfucker!”

"C'mon loser," Bakugou cackles, walking to the door. "Let's eat."

Barely a week later, the phone rings.

Katsuki’s home alone in the apartment, doing chores while Izuku and Bakugou are on patrol. He was playing loud music, and had nearly missed the call.

"Hello?"

"Oi. Pack your things."

"Ha?"

"We figured out how to get you home."

Chapter Text

“So that’s it?”

“Yup!” Izuku exclaims, visibly vibrating with excitement. Beside him, Bakugou rolls his eyes. “It’s happened before, but on a much smaller scale, where only smaller, inanimate objects accidentally slipped through. You’re the first person who crossed the wormhole unscathed!”

“I got impaled,” Katsuki deadpans.

“Well, almost unscathed! It’s an incredible breakthrough nonetheless!”

Katsuki sighs. “Okay, so the portal’s gonna open at the same spot, right? And it’s supposed to open today? You got a specific time to go with that, or am I just expected to hang out at the side of the road and hope I don’t get hit by another truck?”

“The kid can’t control exactly when it’d open yet,” Bakugou answers. “You’re lucky you got this much of a heads up. So get your ass moving, ‘cause that portal probably won’t stay open for more than a minute or two, based on what happened last time.”

“Let’s fucking go then.” Katsuki squares his shoulders. “I still have a lot to do when I get back.”

Izuku goes ahead to hail a cab but Bakugou stays with him, a thoughtful look on his face.

“What?”

“You’re going back with a plan, right?”

Katsuki clicks his tongue. “Duh.”

“Good. Don’t screw it up this time.” He starts to walk back into the agency, only to to pause by the door. “I’m staying here to cover Deku’s shift while he chaperones your ass. So stay out of trouble.”

“The hell I need a chaperone for?” Katsuki huffs. “It’s only a ten-minute cab ride from here.”

Bakugou shakes his head. “This ain’t your boring Quirkless world, dipshit.” He looks up at the dark clouds in the sky, his frown deepening. Thunder rumbles in the distance.

“Anything can happen.”

Katsuki tightens his grip on the lady’s arm. Behind him, her daughter wails at the other civilians, screaming for their help.

But everyone is too busy fleeing the rapidly crumbling bridge to give her a second glance.

“Hold on!” Katsuki shouts and pulls with all his might.

The lady scrambles to get a foothold on the ledge. 

“Ow!” Katsuki groans when she lands on him.

“Sorry!” She gasps before running toward her hysteric daughter. The poor kid jumps into her mom’s arms, eyes wide with terror. 

The lady sobs, hugging her tightly as she looks back at Katsuki. “Thank you!”

“Get outta here!” He yells over the roaring wind.

A green flash catches his attention. He looks up and finds Izuku high in the air, still fighting the villain who had caused all this destruction.

Everything had happened so fast.

Just as they entered the Rainbow bridge, Izuku had suddenly stiffened. Before Katsuki could ask what was wrong, the nerd kicked the passenger door open and dragged him and the driver out. Seconds later, a bolt of lightning hit the cab, making it explode.

From there, all hell broke loose.

Multiple bolts of lightning rained down on the bridge, snapping the suspension cords and hitting the pavement. The bridge shook, prompting fissures to form and grow until the whole structure began to crumble.

Civilians screamed and scrambled out of their cars as chunks of the Rainbow bridge fell into Tokyo Bay.

"Run!" Izuku had told him before sprinting ahead, green lightning crackling around his body. Black tendrils burst out of his hands, grabbing cars and people before they fell.

Katsuki had seen him and Bakugou fighting villains on the news several times, but witnessing it first hand was something else.

He curses when Izuku narrowly avoids a bolt of lightning thrown at his head. Fuck, he feels so damn useless down there. Katsuki fishes out the burner phone they had given him and dials Bakugou’s number. It couldn’t connect. Then he hears explosions coming from somewhere north.

“Shit.” Bakugou’s probably in a fight of his own. 

The pavement under his feet cracked, making Katsuki stumble backward. He looks around and finds that section of the bridge deserted. Izuku had told him to run, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. The portal is going to open somewhere on that bridge, and Katsuki can’t miss his only chance at getting back to him.

Back to his Deku.

Then, there’s a blinding flash, followed by a scream that cuts through the storm.

Ice fills Katsuki’s veins as he watches both Izuku and the villain fall from the sky.

“IZUKU!”

A split-second before he crashes into the asphalt, Izuku jolts back into consciousness and slows down his descent but somehow couldn’t stop it completely.

Katsuki runs, catching him before he hits the ground.

“Izuku!” He looks him over and bites back a sob when he sees the multiple burns and Lichtenberg lines all over his freckled skin. He opens up the nerd’s suit and grimaces when he sees the bruises all over Izuku’s torso.

Fuck. Katsuki may be a fashion major, but he’s had his fair share of brawls in high school. He knows what broken ribs look like.

Izuku shudders and coughs out blood. Katsuki curses. What the hell is he supposed to do now? They need to get somewhere safe but there’s still several hundred meters between them and stable land. Izuku’s growing paler and colder by the second. Clearly, he’s messed up inside too. Katsuki isn’t sure if he can move him without doing more harm.

They’re running out of time. The cracks on the asphalt are growing. It won’t take long before the bridge collapses.

Katsuki crumples beside Izuku, his brain completely overwhelmed. His breathing turns into rapid, short gasps as panic takes hold of him, his limbs growing heavy and numb. 

What is he supposed to do?

He can’t move. He can’t think.

He can’t fucking breathe!

Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

A hand suddenly grabs him. Katsuki opens his eyes and finds green ones looking at him.

“Don’t cry,” Izuku croaks, a gloved hand cupping his cheek. “I am here.”

“Izuku,” Katsuki weeps, catching and holding onto that hand like a lifeline. “Tell me what to do. I don’t know how to save you.”

“I-In my pocket,” Izuku wheezes through labored breaths. “M-My hero p-pager. C-Call dispatch.” He coughs out blood again. “T-They can help.”

Katsuki nods, and with a shaking hand, he fishes out Izuku’s pager and presses the red button labeled “Dispatch.” It rings twice before a woman answers. Katsuki tells her what happened, but she informs him that the city is under a wide scale attack, and all other heroes are busy.

“That’s fucking bullshit!” Katsuki snaps. “We need an emergency evacuation now! Hero Deku’s in danger!”

"I'm so sorry, we already sent an SOS to any available hero in the area and—hold on, Hero Dynamight responded! I'll connect him to you in a sec—"

"—WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO DEKU?!"

Katsuki scrambles to explain, but he keeps getting cut off by Bakugou’s yelling and the feedback from his explosions.

“DIE, BASTARD!”

Shit, the guy was still in the middle of a fight!

"I have your location! I'll go there as soon as I finish off this fucker!" Bakugou replied before throwing another explosion.

“Look after the nerd until I get there!"

"But—!"

"—keep him alive, got it? Keep him alive! 

Bakugou hangs up.

Katsuki stares at the pager, half-expecting Bakugou to call back and say that he’s joking, that help is on the way, and everything is going to be okay.

But the pager remains silent.

Instead, Katsuki hears a deafening crack, and when he looks up, a whole section of the bridge is gone. They’re now merely feet away from a hundred-and-fifty-foot drop into Tokyo Bay.

“Fuck!”

He carefully slides his arms under Izuku’s body, flinching when the man lets out a pained cry.

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki whispers as he holds him against his chest. “Bear with me for a sec, okay? I’ll get you outta here.”

But before Katsuki can take one step, a soft glow catches his eye.

He turns and gasps.

The portal is open.

At that moment, time seemed to slow. The rain, the wind, the distant sirens—all of them faded away.

All that’s left is the thunderous beat of Katsuki’s own heart.

It looks strange, the portal. It’s nothing like those wormholes featured in the comic books he and Deku grew up reading.

Instead of a whirlpool of cosmic energy, the portal’s like air and light folding over each other, creating something like a mirage that projected a blurry image of another world.

As the image became sharper, Katsuki expected to see the highway he was on when he had the accident over three weeks ago. He did not expect to see the sparse living of a small apartment.

Doubt creeps into Katsuki. What the hell is going on?

Then he hears a sound amid the wind and the storm. It’s a voice.

Deku’s voice. It’s coming off a little warbled, like listening to someone talk underwater, but Katsuki had spent most of his life with that voice in his ear. He’d recognize it anywhere.

A person walks into the frame. And Katsuki’s heart stops.

It’s Deku.

His Deku.

It’s been four months and eighteen days since he last saw him. His head is still a bird’s nest of curls, and he seems to have lost some weight, his sweater hanging too loose on him. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he has significantly less freckles than this world’s Izuku.

But he’s still breathtaking to Katsuki.

“What do you mean you don’t have any updates?” Deku snaps, his tone startling Katsuki. He doesn’t remember his nerd ever sounding that angry. Not even on the night he left. “It’s been weeks!”

Katsuki can’t hear what the person on the other end of the line is saying, but it’s clearly nothing good, going by the way the scowl on Deku’s face deepens. 

What is this? How is it possible that Katsuki’s seeing and hearing all this? 

Was this an illusion? Some aspect of the quirk that created a vision based on his deepest wish? It was a possibility.

And yet, Katsuki knows, in his heart, that this is real.

“It’s not possible for someone to just ‘disappear’ without leaving a trace! I gave you all the info you asked for! You have everything you need to find him! Please! How can you honestly tell me that you still don’t know where my husband is?”

Katsuki’s eyes blow wide.

Deku collapses on the couch, one hand draped over his face. He looks so tired. Katsuki longs to pull him into his arms and kiss all his stresses away.

“Yes, I know we finalized the divorce months ago,” he grumbles. “But Katsuki’s still important to me. He will always be important to me.”

Oh.

“Please. Please don’t give up on him. I need to know he’s okay.”

Katsuki’s hold on Izuku’s body loosens just a little.

Deku ends the phone call and curls into a fetal position, sobbing quietly.

“Please,” he whispers into the air. “Give me my Kacchan back.”

Katsuki’s staggers forward, almost dropping Izuku.

Deku misses him. Deku’s looking for him. Deku wants him back.

Katsuki’s soul is singing—this is it. His second chance. He’ll become the husband that Bakugou already is, and make Deku feel the kind of love this world’s Izuku feels everyday. All he needed to do was keep walking forward until he’s back in Deku’s waiting arms.

Simple. Easy.

Izuku stirs in his hold, snapping Katsuki out of his daze.

He looks down at the other man and realizes that, no, nothing about this is simple or easy. Not at all.

The storm around Katsuki is nothing compared to the one raging inside him at that moment. He can see the edges of the portal beginning to flicker, its margins slowly shrinking. Soon, it’ll be gone forever.

If he wants to see his Deku again, then Katsuki needs to leave now.

But that means abandoning an injured, vulnerable Izuku in the middle of a rapidly crumbling bridge.

In his arms, the hero seems so fragile. He’s shivering too, but whether it’s from the rain or from shock settling in, Katsuki doesn’t know.

But what he does know, what he’s absolutely certain of, is that Izuku won’t make it on his own.

And this world’s Bakugou Katsuki would lose his Midoriya Izuku for good.

“FUCK!” Katsuki howls at the dark sky, cursing whatever cruel god had designed his fate.

“Fuck,” he whimpers more quietly as he looks back at the portal and sees Deku pull out a photo album. It’s their album. There are pictures of their memories, from the first day of kindergarten, to their last vacation as a couple five years ago. Deku was smiling so brightly in one of those photos, and Katsuki had sworn to himself that he would do anything to make his Deku that happy again.

Anything.

“Kac…chan?”

Katsuki looks down and finds Izuku staring up at him, a slightly dazed, unfocused look on his face. He frowns at Katsuki for a second before his expression clears into one of recognition.

“Ah, I knew it.” His pale lips stretch into a weak smile. “I knew Kacchan would come save me.”

Katsuki feels his chest caving in.

“You always do.”

No, Katsuki wants to scream. I’m not your Kacchan!

“After all…”

Stop! Please! I can’t do this!

A hand reaches up and gently cups Katsuki’s cheek, catching his tears. Those green eyes sparkled with a love that wasn’t for Katsuki.

“Kacchan is my hero too.”

Katsuki’s heart breaks into two.

He lets out one final, gut-wrenching cry before looking back at the portal, at his Deku praying for him to come home.

And he makes his choice.

Chapter Text

Izuku wakes up to a familiar white ceiling.

He blinks slowly, struggling to reorient himself. The last thing he remembers was seeing Kacchan’s face. Then… nothing. He must’ve passed out at some point.

Izuku tries to sit up but immediately abandons that idea when pain suddenly erupts over his limbs and chest. The bedside monitor detects his distress, its steady beep getting erratic.

“You’re awake.”

Izuku turns and relief floods into him when he finds his husband seated by the bed. He recalls seeing explosions in the distance while he had been fighting the lightning villain. It’s a big load off his shoulders to see the blond completely unharmed.

“Kacchan,” he croaks, ignoring the pain as he reaches for the other man’s hand. To his utter shock though, Kacchan pulls away.

“Sorry,” he answers softly. “But I’m not your Kacchan.”

Izuku frowns. “Wha—?”

This is the alt Katsuki? But that doesn’t make sense. He should be back in his own universe by now. The portal…

Suddenly, there’s movement on his right. Izuku’s head snaps to the side and his breath hitches.

There he is.

His Kacchan is sitting at his bedside too, slumped over with his face pinched into a scowl even while he’s asleep. He keeps shifting though, definitely uncomfortable with his position, but his grip on Izuku’s other hand remains ironclad.

How long had Izuku been asleep this time?

“About two weeks,” Katsuki replies, as if reading his mind. He presses the call button on the bed panel. “You’ve been in a coma for two weeks.”

Izuku’s jaw drops. Two weeks?

“Your heart kept stopping,” adds Katsuki more quietly, turning away as he moved to sit on the loveseat by the window. He leans his head on the wall and shuts his eyes.

He looks so tired.

“They had to keep you in a coma to reduce the strain on your heart until they figured out what was wrong. And even after they did, well, we weren’t sure you were gonna wake up.”

Izuku looks back at his Kacchan, and he finally sees the heavy bags under his eyes, the stress lines criss-crossing his face.

Guilt rises inside Izuku. “Kacchan,” he calls out, gently squeezing the blond’s hand. Kacchan startles awake, jolting up.

For a second, he just stares at Izuku, eyes blown wide before the shock passes and his expression crumbles. He wordlessly reaches for him and engulfs him in a desperate embrace.

Izuku hugs him back despite the pain, finding himself unable to let go. Not when he can feel Kacchan’s whole body shaking as he quietly sobs into the crook of Izuku’s neck.

Izuku senses eyes on them, and he looks over, only to find Katsuki watching them with an unreadable expression. When their eyes meet, the other blond flashes a small, empty smile before looking away.

Izuku feels something twist in his chest.

He and Kacchan stay that way for a while, at least until the doctor and nurses arrive to check on him.

It’s through them that Izuku discovers how it hadn’t been his Kacchan who he last saw that day on the bridge. It was Katsuki.

The man had carried Izuku all the way to the nearest hospital, where they were able to stabilize him in the nick of time.

“You should consider yourself very lucky, Hero Deku,” the doctor says after he finished examining him. “You almost didn’t make it.”

His remark makes the shadows on Kacchan’s face grow longer. He hasn’t said a thing throughout the whole conversation, but Izuku can still hear his displeasure loud and clear. 

"Given the damage to your heart, you'll have to undergo three months of physical therapy. In which time, you can't do any hero work."

“Three months?” Izuku gasps. “Is there a way we can shorten it?”

“Deku,” Kacchan growls, his grip on Izuku’s hand painfully tight. “Don’t.”

“But I can’t be out of commission for that long!” Izuku protests, ignoring him. He throws the doctor a pleading look. “Please! I’m sure there’s another way!”

"Hero Deku, you can't just—" 

"Or Eri! We can ask Eri to rewind—" 

"SHUT UP!"

Izuku stops. A tense silence falls over the room.

“Doc,” Katsuki speaks first, and Izuku can’t help but flinch at the sharpness of his tone. “Can you give us the room for a sec?”

The doctor nods and signals for the nurses to leave. Once it’s just the three of them, Kacchan turns his attention back to Izuku, his face set in a hard glare.

“You can’t fucking stop, can you?”

“Kacchan—”

“Every fucking time,” Kacchan snarls as he gets up and begins pacing the room. “

"You do this to me every fucking time. And I am sick of it."

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Izuku protests, but it’s clearly the wrong thing to say because Kacchan’s disdain instantly explodes into fury. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He yells. “You don’t think it was wrong of you to fight the lightning bastard alone? Your pager was active the whole time—you should’ve called for backup! You should’ve called me!”

“T-That would’ve left the rest of the city defenseless,” Izuku argues back, struggling not to cower under the other man’s rage. It’s been a while since his husband had been this pissed off at him. “I just did what I had to do.”

“No, you did what you always do,” Kacchan counters. “Deku, our entire class works in this damn city! Alongside dozens of other heroes who were also on duty during the attack. Any one of them could’ve helped you!”

“The villain single handedly destroyed a bridge! I couldn’t have led him back into the city!”

"Then fight him in the middle of the fucking Pacific for all I care! Or anywhere else! I don’t care as long as you aren't fighting alone!"

“I didn’t need help!” Izuku shouts back. “I defeated him, didn’t I? So I can’t understand why you’re so mad. I survived, Kacchan! I won!”

Katsuki suddenly stops, his whole face growing slack with disbelief. Then he brings up a hand to cover his face and starts laughing.

Izuku cringes at the horrible sound. It has no mirth in it at all; no warmth. Just harsh and grating, like nails on a chalkboard.

“Yeah, you ‘won’ alright,” Kacchan rasps. ”Won burns across half your body. Won five broken ribs, and a punctured lung."

His hand falls and Izuku’s heart drops to his stomach.

Kacchan looks so haunted.

“You flatlined right in front of me,” he continues, speaking so softly now as if he was afraid that speaking any louder would make Izuku’s heart suddenly stop again. "The first few days it kept happening. Over and over. And I," his voice cracks. "I couldn't do anything but stand aside and watch the doctors beat your body back to life."

The anguish in Kacchan’s voice is something Izuku has never heard before. He’s visibly shaking now, and Izuku tries to reach for him, desperate to soothe and rid him of all pain Izuku hadn’t meant to cause.

But Kacchan pulls away, out of his reach. 

"All the lightning you absorbed fried the circuits of your heart. Not even the doctors' quirks could fix it."

"E-Eri-chan could—"

"We already tried," he snaps. "But all she could do was reverse the superficial damage. She's a fucking high schooler, Deku; the fuck does she know about the delicate mechanisms of the human heart, ha? She can’t safely reverse what she doesn’t understand.”

Izuku’s hand drifts over his chest and startles when he feels something hard under the bandage.

“That’s a pacemaker,” says Katsuki, his expression turning grim. “You'll have to wear it for the rest of your life if you don't want to die in your sleep."

Izuku looks back at him in horror.

“But hey,” Kacchan sneers. "None of that matters because you fucking won, right? So congratulations, Hero Deku! You outdid yourself this time!"

His words feel like acid pouring into Izuku’s ears. 

“And you know what’s worse?” Katsuki continues, ignoring his soft sobs. “ Knowing that despite how messed up you've become, you don't regret anything, do you? If we could turn back time, you probably won’t change a single fucking thing, will you?”

Izuku squeezes his eyes shut.

"Tell me I'm wrong, Izuku."

Izuku couldn’t say anything. He didn’t want to hurt Kacchan anymore but he couldn’t bring himself to lie.

Turns out, he didn’t have to say a thing. His silence had spoken for him.

“Of course you don’t. You never do.”

Izuku’s eyes snap open. He finds Kacchan standing before him with his head bow, his shoulders slumped, and all the fight in him seemingly gone.

Suddenly, he isn’t the Symbol of Victory anymore, the hero known for never losing a fight. Instead, all Izuku can see is a man on the verge of giving up.

“I’m tired, Izuku.”

Panic seizes Izuku’s heart.

“I’m tired of hoping that one day, you’ll realize how wrong you were. How wrong all this —” He gestures at Izuku’s state. “—is.” 

“Kacchan, I—”

Kacchan abruptly turns away. “I need to go.”

“W-Wait!” Izuku tries to get up but another jolt of pain pushes him back. “Please!”

The sound of the door sliding shut echoes grimly throughout the room.

Izuku stares at the spot where Kacchan had been standing. He still can’t quite process what had just happened.

“Sorry, but you kinda deserved that.”

Izuku jolts. His head snaps toward the window and finds Katsuki still seated, eyes raised to the sky. After everything, Izuku had completely forgotten about the other blond. 

"I...I don't know why he's reacting this way," he protests. “He’s a hero too. He knows the risks that come with this line of work—hell, he had his own heart ripped apart when he was just a student!”

“That happened over fifteen years ago, right?” Katsuki hums thoughtfully.

“Yeah!”

“And when was the last time he’d gotten beaten up that badly again?’

Izuku falters. He… He honestly can’t remember.

“Yeah, see, Bakugou’s not as upset about the severity of your injuries,” Katsuki points to a stack of folders perched on top of the mini-fridge. “As he is about how often they keep happening. While we were waiting for you to wake up, I asked him how many times you’d get into this kind of situation," he explains, idly picking at a thread on his ripped jeans. 

"He didn't answer me outright; instead, he went and retrieved all of your medical records." He stands and takes the folders, dumping them all on Izuku’s lap. “By my count, you've been hospitalized over fifty times in the last ten years. And a third of that was for life-threatening injuries like this one,” he adds, more quietly.

The bed dips as he takes a seat, his carmine eyes boring into Izuku’s. 

“Izuku, that means that on the average, Bakugou has waited by your bed, wondering if you'll even wake up, for at least once every 2-3 months since the day he married you."

Izuku’s jaw drops. He had no idea it happened that often.

"God knows I'm not an expert on relationships," Katsuki smiles humorlessly. "But I'm pretty sure that's no way to treat someone you love."

Izuku stares at the thick pile, a cold dread seeping into his bones.

“B-But that’s the job,” he argues weakly. “I was just doing my job.”

Yet, even as he says those words, Izuku is already thinking back to everything that had happened since they became heroes. He and Kacchan have always been neck-to-neck in both rescue and combat stats. The blond’s competitive streak wouldn’t allow Izuku to get too far ahead.

They had nearly the same amount of work, the same number of missions completed and task-forces led. And yet, Izuku can count on one hand the number of times Kacchan was severely injured since they graduated from UA.

In fact, as far as Izuku knows, no other hero or sidekick got hospitalized as much as he did.

Is it still part of the job, if he’s the only one who seems to be doing it?

“Hey.” Katsuki breaks the silence between them, snapping Izuku out of his thoughts. "What do you think would happen to Bakugou if you died?"

Izuku blinks, caught off guard by the question. It’s something that had crossed his mind a few times before, when a situation seemed too dire or dangerous. But then he’d survive through it, and the thought retreats back to the annals of his mind until the next near-death experience. He never allowed himself to examine it too closely.

“He’ll be… He’ll probably be sad. And hurt. A-And maybe mad at me for dying,” Izuku replies. “But in time, I’m sure he’ll get over it,” he adds with more certainty. “I mean, Kacchan is strong. He’s the strongest and most resilient man I know. He’ll survive long after I’m gone.”

For a while, Katsuki doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches over and pulls a flower from the vase on the nightstand. Izuku didn’t notice it till now. 

It’s a lovely bouquet of tiger lilies. His favorite.

“Maybe you’re right,” Kacchan finally says as he examines the flower. “Maybe that guy will survive.”

Then he pauses and meets Izuku’s gaze.

“But every day he’ll wish he didn’t.”

Izuku looks at him and sees despair so palpable he can almost touch it—it fills the space between them like tar slowly drowning them both, and Izuku has to tear his eyes away because he can’t handle the way his own heart is seizing in his chest.

How is it possible for anyone to look so broken and still be alive?

"Take it from someone who knows what it's like to lose you," Katsuki whispers, pressing the lily into his hand. He gives him a bittersweet smile that reminds Izuku of all the people he had failed to save.

"We'll never be happy again, not in the way we were with you."

And it’s then that realization finally dawns on Izuku, coming in like a Detroit Smash to the chest. 

This pain. This anguish. This haunting fear of losing the person he loved most in the world. Kacchan has been living with these horrific things for years.

Because of him.

Oh god. 

Oh god.

Izuku didn’t even realize he had started crying again until warm hands gently cupped his face, thumbs sweeping under his eyes to brush off his tears.

“He’s going to leave me, isn’t he?” Izuku asks, terrified of the answer. In hindsight, he can’t really blame him if he did. His Kacchan had gone through so much, suffered so much, and Izuku didn’t even realize what he’d been doing to him until now.

Katsuki scoffs. “Nah. He loves you too much to even try.”

"But I hurt him!" Izuku cries, ripping Katsuki’s hands off his face. He grabs a handful of the folders on his lap. "I've been making his life a living hell for years! He’d be better off without me! And you too! You should…”

Izuku falters as another thought suddenly hits him. He looks back at Katsuki.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“No, no, you…” Izuku shakes his head, panic growing inside him. “You shouldn’t be here. You should’ve been back by now. Back to your own world. Back to your Deku.”

Something flits across Katsuki’s face, and it’s all the confirmation Izuku needs.

The reality of what happened that day on the bridge finally catches up to him.

“Oh god.”

“Oi—”

“You—you missed it. The window. You—I—If I had just… If I had just done what Kacchan said… If I had just called for back-up like I should have, then you wouldn’t have had to save me. You…”

His throat tightens, his breath thins into a strangled wheeze. The monitor picks up on his quickening heartbeat, setting off alarms.

“You… you could’ve gone home.” Izuku grabs his shoulders. “You could’ve gone home!”

“Nerd, calm down—”

Hearing Katsuki use that pet name, with the same softness and affection Kacchan had, only breaks Izuku further.

“Oh god,” Izuku wails. “Oh god, I did this! I destroyed you too! This is all my fault! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“Izuku.” Hands grip the sides of Izuku’s face, forcing him to look into the red eyes he had loved his whole life. That close, Izuku realizes that this version of Kacchan has central heterochromia too, different tones of red making up the rings on his irises, with gold and copper specks surrounding the pupil like a crown.

“Hey, hey, listen to me, okay?” Katsuki demands softly, still so kind and loving in all the ways Izuku didn’t deserve. He destroyed this man's happiness. He shouldn't be comforting Izuku right now. “It’s not your fault, ya hear me? It’s not your fault. Don’t you dare blame yourself for the choices I made.”

“But you lost your Deku because of me!” Izuku cries. Katsuki pulls him into a tight embrace.

“No,” he whispers against Izuku’s ear. “I lost him years ago. I just didn’t know it yet.”

Izuku cries harder.

It takes a while before his heaving sobs even out into aborted little sniffles, the pressure around his heart slowly easing bit by bit. Katsuki holds him through the whole thing, humming softly as he draws soothing circles on his back.

“We’ll find another way to get you home,” Izuku mumbles against his shoulder. “There’s got to be another way.”

He feels Katsuki shaking his head. “Not every Kacchan in every universe can have a happy ending.”

Izuku pulls away. “You can’t just give up!” He protests, grabbing Katsuki’s shoulders. He’s scared of what the man might do, when he’s out of Izuku’s sight and reach.

Katsuki snorts and ruffles his hair. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, nerd. Your Kacchan already spent the last two weeks making sure I didn't jump off a ledge somewhere. I'm not going to do anything stupid or dangerous, I promise."

That makes Izuku breathe a little easier.

"Once Takeshi-kun learns how to control his Quirk, he can find a way to get you back home!"

Katsuki shrugs, resigned. "That brat's only ten. It'll be years before he gets a handle on his powers. By then, my Deku would've already moved on to someone else. Someone better.

Izuku opens his mouth to protest but Katsuki slaps his hand over it. "Hey, enough okay? Whatever you're going to say, I already went over with Bakugou." Izuku's heart splinters as the light in his eyes dim further. "There's nothing we can do. My happy ending is gone."

Katsuki lets out a bitter little laugh. “And I think this is karmic justice, yeah? After being a shitty husband to the best person I've ever known, this is all I deserve."

He releases Izuku and rises to his feet. "But Bakugou, he... he loves you so fucking much, you know?  And he’s never failed to make you feel it. He deserves a happy ending."

The ping of a new message startles them both. Katsuki pulls his phone out. “It’s Bakugou. He says he’s coming back with dinner soon. I'm going home to the apartment for now since they only allow one visitor to stay overnight, but I'll bring you two fresh clothes in the morning. I suggest you use this night to talk things out."

Katsuki makes his way towards the door but stops before stepping out. He looks over his shoulder, meeting Izuku’s liquid gaze.

"Your relationship may not be as perfect as I thought it was, but it's still something I envy from the bottom of my heart. So for fuck's sake, don't lose sight of what's truly important."

He gives Izuku one final, weak smile.  

"Don't make the same mistakes I did."

Katsuki pauses by the genkan, struggling to balance the phone on his shoulder with the groceries in his arms.

"For fuck's sake Mei, you can't just drop these orders on me without more notice! Designing hero costumes ain't the same as designing a fucking sweater!"

He tunes out the crazy engineer's rambles as he walks into his apartment, dumping the bags on the counter before he collapses on the couch with a groan.

He eyes the letter on the coffee table. It’s from his landlord, reminding him about renewing his lease.

He’s been putting it off for a month now, and the deadline is approaching. He doesn’t even know why he’s hesitating at this point.

After all, it's been five years.

Five years since that day on the Rainbow bridge, where Katsuki made his choice.

He moved out of their apartment as soon as Izuku was discharged. His therapist had insisted on it, and Katsuki didn't argue—seeing those two together just made it much more difficult to move on. 

Bakugou had lent him some cash and set him up in the place he was living in now. He found a job in Mei's support company, applying his background in fashion to help design the costumes of heroes and heroes-in-training.

It was something he surprisingly enjoyed, and it helped ease some of the gnawing emptiness in his chest.

He kept his distance from Izuku and Bakugou, but he was glad to hear that both of them entered couples' therapy.

He designed matching suits for them as a gift after Izuku cleared a whole year without a single hospital visit. They wore it when they renewed their vows.

"Mei needs to pay me more for all the stress she's putting on me," Katsuki grumbles as he gets started on dinner. "Like some kind of hazard pay for all the times she nearly killed me with her crazy ass 'babies'! Right, nerd?"

Deku's photo on the dinner table remains silent.

Katsuki continues to talk as if there’s someone listening, as if someone still cared to know about his day. Sometimes he'd call Deku's number and pretend he was on the other end of the line, ignoring the grating voice of the operator declaring that the number did not exist.

At some point, it became more of a habit, calling out "I'm home" when he arrived, despite knowing that no one was there to welcome him back.

But he couldn't bring himself to stop. These were small comforts he took refuge in to get through each day without Deku by his side.

His phone rings again, interrupting his one-sided conversation.

"I swear to god, if that's Mei again, I'm going to throw one of her babies out the fucking window," he growls, turning the stove off and stomping towards the living room.

He grabs his phone and stops.

It’s Bakugou calling.

He hesitates. They have an unspoken agreement to keep contact as minimal as possible. This is the first time Bakugou had called him in two years.

In the end, curiosity got the better of him. 

"Hello?"

"Yo."

"Why the fuck are you calling me?"

"Hello to you too, asshole."

"You didn't answer my fucking question."

"It happened again."

Katsuki frowns. "What happened again?”

"The Takeshi brat opened a wormhole in Central Tokyo."

Katsuki groans. "So what? He's been opening a lot of them lately." And all of them had lead to every other universe except for Katsuki's.

And none of them were ever as big as the one that transported him into this world. Oftentimes, his hand could barely fit through. Katsuki hated how they would give him hope, only to crush it every time.

"This one's different."

"They're all different," Katsuki snaps. "Get to the point."

"Someone walked out of this one."

Katsuki nearly drops his phone.

"Ha?!”

"You heard me. The portal opened and someone from the other side came out. He kept yelling the same thing over and over."

"Yelling what?"

"My name is Bakugou Izuku and I'm looking for my husband."

Chapter Text

“Hey Freckles, you okay?”

Deku blinks, eyes refocusing. He finds Mei staring at him, an eyebrow raised worriedly. It’s rare to see their eccentric, fearless inventor worried about anything. Deku gives her a reassuring smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, before glancing back at his phone.

The lock screen shows Katsuki smirking handsomely at the camera. Deku’s heart squeezes when he sees the date.

“It’s today, isn’t it?” Dabi asks as he straps a parachute harness across Deku’s chest. “Can’t believe it’s been five years.”

Deku nods somberly.

Five years.

It’s been five years since Katsuki disappeared.

Deku can still remember the day the police had knocked on his door to deliver their final report. He had been pestering them for months, and even hired his own private investigator, but in the end, their conclusions were the same.

That Bakugou Katsuki, his childhood best friend and confidante, his husband of ten years, and the only man he's ever loved and will probably ever love, is dead.

According to the police, Katsuki’s disappearance matched similar incidents in the past, which had been tied to several gangs and drug cartels. In addition, some of Katsuki’s co-workers and bosses were recently busted for drug use, so everyone just assumed that Katsuki was also involved.

It turned into a classic case of an addict piling on too much debt, pissed off the wrong kingpin, and ended up getting snuffed as a result. 

Even his friends were quick to give their own two cents on the matter.

"Maybe that's why he became so distant," Ochaco suggested.

As tempting as it was to take comfort from that, Deku just couldn't accept it.

It had felt wrong. Deku had known Katsuki since they were in diapers—this was something he would never do. Heck, the man even hated taking painkillers, claiming that they made him look weak.

And if this was all about money, then why did Deku still inherit so much as the sole benefactor of Katsuki’s will? Why hadn’t anyone from any drug cartels or gangs knock on his door demanding that Deku pay his ex-husband’s debts? Nothing about the case made sense. And yet, the police declared his case closed. Everyone had given up. 

Everyone but Deku.

No matter what anyone said, Deku's heart, gut, and every piece of his soul screamed that his Kacchan was still out there.

Maybe lost, but definitely, definitely alive.  

So Deku swallowed his heartbreak and tucked all his hurt and loneliness into locked boxes in the back of his mind. He put all his focus on that burning, all-consuming desire to bring Katsuki home.

And it was that single-minded conviction that brought him to where he is now, years later—in the cargo hold of a stolen plane, surrounded by criminals, and preparing to dive into an active volcano.

"The readings I'm getting from the Multiverse Mapper are insane!" Mei rambles excitedly. "This is the biggest wormhole we've detected so far! You'll definitely be able to pass through it without any problems!"

“Sucks that it's inside a volcano, though," Dabi chuckles as he double checks the clasps on Deku’s parachute. “Wouldn’t hurt to check those readings again, babe.”

"O ye of little faith!" Mei huffs. "Don't underestimate my baby!”

"She has a point,” Denki says. "We didn't hack and con our way into a secret government facility to steal a super sophisticated gamma wave scanner, just for it not to work."

"Not to mention all the rare and costly materials you had us steal and smuggle from all over the world!" Hawks cheerfully reminds them from the plane's cockpit.

“Plus the stuff we stole from my old man," Dabi signs happily. "Good times."

"You didn't have to burn his factories down, though," Denki points out, to which Dabi shrugs. "The bastard deserved it."

"Anyway!" Mei claps, demanding their attention. "Thanks to everyone's help, my baby's grown and matured into its perfect form!"

Deku stares at the console, a fond smile stretching over his lips.

Presently, the Multiverse Mapper is worlds different from the clunky, prototype device he saw four years ago. Back then, Deku was still trying to figure out where to begin his search. His investigation led him to a familiar highway intersection where street cameras reported the last sighting of Katsuki’s car before he fell off the grid.

Deku had found Mei standing atop a battered RV, struggling to hold up a large satellite dish without falling.

Concerned, he pulled over and asked what she was doing.

But instead of giving him an answer, the girl flashed a manic grin and replied with a question of her own. A question that would set the course of Deku's life for the next four years: 

"Do you believe in parallel worlds?"

“But you're 100% sure this one leads to the same universe with Zuzu's ex-hubby in it, right?" Hitoshi drawls. "It'll be a shame if he ends up in some post-dystopian zombie world after all the trouble he went through.”

“The data isn’t lying! These gamma readings are the exact same ones we got from Macau last year!”

Deku tenses. He remembers Macau very well.

That was the first time they had used Mei’s completed Multiverse Mapper and it had detected a wormhole opening inside a five-star casino’s heavily-guarded cash vault.

One insanely complicated heist later, they managed to get in, only to discover that the wormhole was so small only a hand can go through.

Denki nearly blew their cover after he screamed when a whole hand suddenly pushed through from the other side. But his scream couldn’t compare to the thundering in Deku’s chest when he saw the faint horizontal scar across the hand’s palm.

Katsuki got that scar when he was eight years old, after he accidentally knocked a knife off the counter and stupidly tried to catch it. Deku had often traced that scar when they were in bed—he knew every curve of it, where it began and ended, where it intersected with the other creases and lines on Katsuki’s palm.

And as if that wasn’t proof enough, there was a wedding ring on the hand’s middle finger. Katsuki’s wedding ring. Deku would recognize it anywhere—after all, he had picked it out himself.

Then he heard someone talking, the words a little muddled as if he’s hearing them underwater. But that scathing tone was unmistakable:

“How the fuck am I supposed to go home through this, dipshit? You got a shrink ray in this wack-ass world too?” There were other voices too, but they were too muddled to understand.

The hand pulled back into the wormhole before Deku could reach it, but the last thing he heard before it closed was Katsuki’s weary voice saying:

“I just miss that nerd so much.”

"Either way, this will be the last time we'll be seeing you, short stack," Dabi grins, ruffling Deku's hair playfully and snapping him out of his thoughts. His expression shifts into something more serious. "Go get your man, yeah?"

A lump appears in his throat. He nods, tears glossing over his eyes.

"T-minus 90 seconds till we reach the target!" Hawks announced.

"Well," Deku turns around and finds everyone else already on their feet. He takes a deep breath. "This is it."

"This is it!" Denki exclaims, pulling him into a hug. "We'll miss you, Midoriya!"

Hitoshi gives him a mock salute. "Give your hubby some ass-whooping before you take him back, all right? Can't make it too easy for him."

"Oh, please," Dabi snorts. "I'm sure they’ll run toward each other from opposite ends of a room, like in the cheesy rom coms my dumb boyfriend forces me to watch."

"I know you love them too!" Hawks yells back.

Deku chuckles as some of the anxiety building in his gut begins to dissipate.

After his old friends abandoned him when he refused to move on, it was these people he'd met under the craziest of circumstances who stayed steadfast by his side throughout his whole four-year crusade.

They stood by him even during his lowest moments, and these trouble-makers, criminals, and social outcasts were the only ones who picked up the pieces of his heart and refused to leave him behind.

Without them, Deku would've caved and given up. He would've lived an empty life, pretending that half of him hadn't died the day Katsuki disappeared for good.

They were his found family, and Deku felt tears trickling down his cheeks as immense gratitude swept through him.

"Thank you," he sniffs, bowing low. "Thank you so much for everything."

"Aww, I knew we'd get the signature Midoriya waterworks before you leave," Denki teases before giving him another hug. He grabs Hitoshi's scarf and Dabi's collar, pulling them in.

Mei yelps when Dabi drags her in too, and suddenly Deku is engulfed in a big group hug.

"Hey now, don't leave me out!" Hawks protests, body slamming the huddle.

"Wha- who's driving the plane?!" Denki shrieks.

"It's called 'autopilot,' you fool," Mei sighs, giving Hitoshi a quizzical look. "What do you see in him?"

Hitoshi shrugs. "He's pretty."

"Hey!"

"Wait, you know how to dive, right?" Hawks asks. Deku pauses and throws back a nervous grin.

"Nope. But I understand the science behind it, so I'm hoping I'll be fine."

Hawks guffaws. "Okay then. Good luck."

Dabi shakes his head. "I keep forgetting you have an actual Ph.D. in applied physics, unlike Mei."

“I don't need a diploma! I'm a natural-born genius!"

"That you are.” Deku straps on his helmet. Dabi hits a button and the ramp on the cargo hold slowly opens, the wind rushing in. 

“I’m off,” he shouts as he moves closer to the edge. “See you guys… whenever. Don’t get into too much trouble!”

"No promises!"

The wind carries their laughter, surrounding Deku as he dives, head-first, into the heart of Mt. Fuji.

As the crater grows closer and closer, Deku could see a peculiar sheen over it, like oil on water, depicting a shocking image of Central Tokyo.

His heart is pounding, and not just from the adrenaline.

He knows he’s nearly there. His instincts are yelling over the roar of the wind in his ears, telling him that this is right.

This is exactly where he’s supposed to go.

He can feel it.

He’s one step closer to his Kacchan.

He’s one step closer to home.

Katsuki was out of breath by the time he reached the Wonder Duo agency.

There he finds Bakugou waiting for him in the lobby.

"Did you fucking run all the way here?"

"Where is he?" Katsuki hissed, struggling to catch his breath.

Bakugou rolls his eyes. "Upstairs, in our office. The nerd's giving him a short orientation about our world."

"A-And you think he's my Deku?" Katsuki pressed, heart still pounding. He follows the other blond through the agency.

Bakugou shrugs, leading him into the elevator. "You're the only one who can confirm that," he answers. "But so far, his story matches yours."

Some poor intern tries to get into the elevator with them, but hastily backs away after seeing their combined glares. 

"The Katsuki in his world have been missing for five years to this day too.” Bakugou continues. “And when we asked to see his wedding ring, this Deku claimed that he gave it to you the night he left your sorry ass."

Katsuki grimaced. The memory of that horrible night still plagued his nightmares.

His hand drifts towards his neck, pulling out the chain that held Deku's ring.

Bakugou sees it and scowls. “I’m really hoping it’s him. There can’t be more versions of me who were fucking morons in their own worlds."

That hits a nerve. “Thanks for the reminder,” Katsuki spits.

There was a tense pause before Bakugou sighs, his expression softening. "But hey, if your Deku's been searching for you all this time, then maybe you haven't screwed up as badly as you thought."

Katsuki's jaw drops, not expecting that.

Before he could piece together a reply, the elevator doors opened.

Time slowed and the whole world came to a screeching halt. Their surroundings lost color and focus, Katsuki’s vision tunneling to the man at the other end of the hall.

It’s Deku.

His Deku.

Katsuki doesn’t need to play 20-questions to figure it out. He had spent most of his life with this man. The moment his eyes met those wide green ones, Katsuki knew.  

It’s in the way all his nerve endings tingle, slowly waking up after a five-year winter.

Warmth floods his veins, like there’s an invisible fuse tracing the path to his heart, igniting the sleeping gunpowder within. It explodes, and Katsuki finds himself running, legs propelling him forward with renewed vigor. It didn’t matter that he had just run halfway across the city. All he can think of is bridging that short distance between them as fast as he can. 

Katsuki reaches out and pulls the nerd flush against him, holding on tight, and viscerally terrified that Deku would vanish if he lets go. He buries his face into those soft curls, inhaling deeply. 

His knees nearly buckle at that familiar scent of bergamot and sandalwood. Deku’s go-to cologne, one he’s been using since he learned what a cologne was. It’s from a pretty obscure brand that didn’t exist in this world.

So it’s him. It’s really him.

"Kacchan?” 

Katsuki feels arms snaking around his waist, and hands gripping the back of his jacket as if holding on for dear life.

"You're alive," Deku says, his voice breaking into a sob. "Oh my god. You're really here."

Katsuki’s hold tightens on instinct, and he can feel the tears building over his eyes.

The last five years finally hit him like a towering wave. All the emotions he had bottled up, pushed to the back of mind, buried as deeply as he could—all of them now come rushing to the surface, demanding their time in the sun.

Katsuki wants to scream, but all he can do is cry.

"I'm here, nerd," he sobs, that invisible noose around his neck slowly uncoiling. Finally, for the first time in five years, Katsuki can breathe.  

"I'm here."

Their reunion was interrupted by Bakugou, who loudly asked them to keep PDA at a minimum in their agency.

Izuku roughly elbowed him in the gut before eagerly ushering Katsuki and Deku into an empty conference room, telling them to take as much time as they needed to catch up.

But after the door closed and they had settled on the plush seats, an awkward silence appeared between them.

One of Deku's hands is on the table and Katsuki eyes it with longing and apprehension, itching to feel those scarred fingers between his own again.

He reaches out... then stops midway, remembering the night of their anniversary. He falters, scared to see Deku flinch away again.

But before he can pull back, Deku suddenly grabs hand, fingers easily slipping into place and holding on tight.

Bakugou gasps, and when he meets Deku's gaze, he finds him staring back determinedly, green eyes delivering a quiet message:

I am not letting you go.

Katsuki's breath hitched.

"Deku," he croaks, the words finally making it past the lump in his throat. He gingerly squeezes the nerd's hand, heart fluttering when he feels Deku squeeze back.

"I missed you. So much," he cries, bowing his head and letting the tears fall. "And I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

The apology that Katsuki recited to Deku's framed photo every night before he went to sleep, the apology he had been working on for the last five years, slips out of him like an avalanche.

He told him all his mistakes and regrets. Everything he wants to take back and do-over.

Again and again, Katsuki cried and apologized, some words lost among dry heaves and hiccuped sobs. He told Deku about his time in this universe, about Izuku and Bakugou's relationship, about the choice he made to stay behind.

And how every day without him taught Katsuki how a man could die but still be alive.

Through it all, Deku quietly listens and holds his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze each time Katsuki feels too overwhelmed to continue talking.

"I love you," he whispers after a moment's silence. Deku stiffens for a second before relaxing. Katsuki takes that as his cue to continue. 

"I never stopped loving you, Deku, Izuku. And I regret each day I made you believe that I didn't."

Deku doesn’t reply. Instead, he slowly begins to pull away.

Katsuki's heart drops.

But before he can spiral, scarred hands suddenly cup his face, their thumbs gently brushing beneath his eyes, catching what’s left of his tears.

Katsuki looks up and finds those beautiful green eyes gazing down at him with strange mix of fondness and melancholy.

"I love you too," Deku replies softly. "I never stopped either. Even after I walked away and signed those divorce papers, I couldn't let you go."

His hands slip from Katsuki's face, and Katsuki whimpers, instantly missing their warmth. But Deku places his hands back over his, renewing Katsuki's hope.

"You hurt me a lot for a long time," Deku adds, looking down. "And I haven't healed from that yet because I've been so preoccupied with finding you these past years. I never got to process my feelings properly.”

He squeezes Katsuki’s hand. "My heart already knows I forgive you, but my mind's still catching up. I can't pretend everything's okay."

"You don't need to pretend," Katsuki counters. “We can take it slow. I broke your trust and I know that takes time to rebuild."

"Are you sure?" Deku frowns, uncertain. "You’ve waited all these years already. Aren’t you frustrated?”

At that, Katsuki smiles. He takes Deku’s hand and brings them to his face, planting a kiss on each of those scarred knuckles. Deku flushes an adorable pink.

"I'll gladly spend the rest of my life rebuilding that trust and earning the love you give so freely," he declares. "If you will let me."

Deku's lower lip wobbles as a film of tears appears over his eyes. Again, another nerve-wracking silence falls between them and Katsuki holds his breath as he waits.

Finally, Deku nods.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Katsuki clarifies, heart pounding.

Deku smiles back. That beautiful, breathtaking smile that Katsuki didn’t think he’d ever see again.

"Okay. We can try again."

Their reconciliation is more anticlimactic than Katsuki expected. Deku ended up staying at a hotel, refusing Katsuki's offer to share his apartment 

It stung, but Katsuki swallowed it down, knowing that Deku needed his own space for this to work.

They started with coffee dates, where Katsuki learned about what Deku's been up to in the last five years.

He was shocked to hear that his meek, easily flustered nerd, dealt with criminals, yakuza, and even international syndicates, all for his mission to find Katsuki. Deku told him about that time they broke Dabi out of prison and stole millions of dollars worth of proprietary equipment from a US army base.

“I’m wanted by Interpol,” Deku admits sheepishly. “There’s a red notice on my name.”

"Holy shit," Katsuki laughs. "That's pretty hot."

Deku turns into that pretty pink Katsuki loved to see.

"That's why we can’t go home yet," he explains, changing the topic. But the blush on his face remained. "I'll have to find a job here in the meantime. Do you know any places here who'd be interested in hiring a quirkless human with a doctorate in applied physics and engineering?"

An idea pops in Katsuki’s head. He straightens abruptly, startling the other man.

"Hey," he grins. "I have an idea."

It turns out that working together is exactly what they needed to repair their relationship.

After learning of his credentials, Mei hired Deku on the spot, assigning him as Katsuki's engineer partner in designing and upgrading the costumes and support equipment of their clients.

It was the first time Katsuki felt completely in sync with his husband. Back in their world, their career paths deviated pretty far, making it hard to really talk to each other about their work.

But in this world, they’re partners. Equals oriented towards the same goal.

Coffee dates turned into shared bentos on their work desks, heatedly debating the pros and cons of various design models.

Katsuki would receive excited calls or messages from Deku at two in the morning, because he dreamt of a totally cool idea that he wanted to run by him.

They’d go on dinner dates after work, fighting over the bill, laughing at Mei's crazy antics or discussing new ideas inspired by the comic books from their world.

And after each of these dates, Katsuki would walk Deku back to his apartment a few blocks away from his and linger.

Both of them would pause in front of the door, and usually, Deku would say "Goodnight, Kacchan. See you tomorrow," and give Katsuki a small kiss on the cheek before disappearing into his apartment.

But tonight, something’s different.

It's been almost a year since they started over. In that time, Katsuki had learned so much about his husband that he didn't know or stupidly took for granted before.

Bakugou was right. It was impossible to love the nerd the way he did when they got married.

Because every day Katsuki spent with Deku, he just fell harder for him compared to before. He didn't know he was capable of loving someone this much.

And part of him wondered if Deku felt the same way too.

"Kacchan," Deku starts, nervously fiddling with his keys. The bouquet of lilies that Katsuki gave him is carefully tucked under his arm. 

They had just returned from another date at the park. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom.

"Yes?" Katsuki asks, a little distracted by the pink petals on Deku's hair.

"Would you, um" Deku hesitates, almost dropping his keys.

"Spit it out, nerd."

"Would you like to come in?" Deku blurts, before turning into a deep shade of red. "F-For coffee," he adds. "I-I mean, not just coffee. I also have tea. Or wine? I think? I'm not sure, but we can go to the store if you want—“

“Sure.”

Deku drops his keys for real.

"Wha—really?" He gasps, looking way too surprised. It makes Katsuki’s heart swell with adoration. 

"Of course," he smiles as he retrieves Deku’s keys and pushes them into the lock, opening the door for both of them. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

At that, Deku's surprise softens. Before they can cross the threshold, the nerd suddenly wraps his arms around Katsuki's neck and pulls him into the first kiss they've shared in a long, long time.

When they pull away for air, both of them are crying.

“I love you,” he whispers, and Katsuki had to take a deep breath before he could reply.

“I love you too, Izuku. Forever and Always.”

Deku smiles. “Forever and always,” he echoes, before walking into the apartment.

Katsuki pauses by the genkan, watching Deku pause and turn around, his hand outstretched.

"Welcome back, Kacchan."

All the warmth inside Katsuki’s chest multiplies a hundred million fold. Crying, Katsuki takes Deku’s hand, and he’s pulled into another tight embrace. 

"I'm home," he whispers against Deku’s ear, feeling the happiest he’s ever felt in a long time.

He gets a happy ending after all.