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Izuku Midoriya died in a battle, taking Shigaraki with him.
Katsuki was the first who made it to him, Izuku’s name on his lips. The hero was lying on the ground, facing the sky, and Katsuki fell on his knees right next to him, cradling his face in his broken hands.
“Izuku? Come on, wake up, nerd. You did it, you saved the world. You can sleep in the hospital, I need you to wake up.”
Katsuki knew. He was sure he felt it the moment it happened. Something in him shattered during the battle, and the shards that used to be his heart were slowly sinking into the bloodied ground beneath them.
Izuku’s eyes were dull. Gone was the bright shine, replaced by emptiness so deep it hid everything else. His body was unnaturally cold and still.
The nerd was never still.
“Deku, get up. I ain’t kidding, there’s no way in hell you’re getting out of cleaning duty. Wake up, nerd.”
Katsuki shook him. Just lightly at first, then again with more force. He grit his teeth, staring at the way Izuku’s head lolled from side to side.
“Izuku?”
People approached them. Katsuki couldn’t bother to look who was it. Deku was his priority. Katsuki hated being ignored and Deku knew that, dammit, so why wasn’t he listening to him?
“I… Izuku?”
There were voices, but not a single one sounded like the one Katsuki wanted to hear. Someone cursed and seconds later, there were hands on his shoulders, trying to get him away.
Away from Izuku.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” he screamed, setting off a weak blast behind himself without looking at whom he was aiming it. It worked because whoever bothered him backed up. One of his hands settled back on Izuku’s chest, right over his heart, while the other found its way between the green curls. “Iz – you gotta… Izuku, wake up. Wake the fuck up, nerd. Wake up!”
The two words became a never ending chant as Katsuki screamed his throat sore.
The heart under his palm never gave a single beat.
~~~
Katsuki wasn’t really sure how long he stayed by Izuku’s side and cried. At one point a crowd started forming, but no one dared to come close to him – to them – again. Distantly, he remembers steady hands catching him when the world tilted to one side and went black, but who they belonged to, Katsuki didn’t know.
He wasn’t surprised to wake up in a hospital. There was no moment of confusion, no hesitation about how he got there or what happened. His memories were clear and paralyzing.
He laid there, staring at the white ceiling, not moving a single muscle. He didn’t feel pain, and whether it was because of the painkillers or the total numbness spreading from his chest, he didn’t care.
Why should he? Nothing mattered, not anymore.
Because Izuku was gone.
Dead.
He screwed his eyes shut, trying and failing at keeping the tears from spilling over. “Fuckin’ Deku,” he muttered, gritting his teeth. His words were void of any anger.
The atmosphere in the room changed.
“Katsuki?”
At the sound of his parents’ voices, Katsuki opened his eyes anew, turning his head slightly. They approached his bed swiftly but hesitated upon reaching his side. He moved to sit up and they took in his tears, and the next second they had him in their arms, embracing him with all their might.
For once, Katsuki didn’t fight it. He went limp in their hold, body completely stilling as he cried in silence.
“I’m so sorry, son,” his dad said. “It’s not your fault. Izuku –”
“I love him,” Katsuki blurted out, cutting off whatever nonsense was his father about to say. “I love him but he’s – he’s dead and it’s not fucking fair –”
It wasn’t fair that Izuku had given everything to the world, just for it to take him away just when they got together – when they stood side by side like they were supposed to, partners in every way that mattered. It wasn’t fair because they were supposed to be hero partners, the best duo out there. They were supposed to become Deku and Dynamight, the Wonder Duo, the number one.
After he apologized, Katsuki swore to never again part with Izuku. He swore to always stay by his side, no matter what.
But his side was empty now, and it burned.
Because Izuku was dead, and Katsuki was not.
“I love him,” he repeated desperately, because he never got to say it as much as he would like to. He didn’t, couldn’t say the words in past time because Katsuki will love Izuku as long as he lives. It’s nothing but a fact because Izuku’s being had been interwoven with Katsuki’s the moment they were born, the two of them together, and now –
What the hell was Katsuki supposed to do now?
His parents were talking but he wasn’t interested in whatever useless bullshit they were saying. Words couldn’t do shit, there was nothing that could be done.
“Katsuki?”
He froze, going completely rigid. No. No, he couldn’t – he couldn’t deal with this now. There was no way he could go through this without doing more damage than he had already done.
Was this his punishment?
“Katsuki?” Midoriya Inko asked again.
Slowly, he turned towards Izuku’s mom. Her eyes were puffy and red and she looked like she aged ten years in the past few days. Her hands were trembling and the raw grief visible on her face would have sent him tumbling had he not been sitting.
He couldn’t do this. Anything but this.
He didn’t care when she got here or how much she heard. He couldn’t even stop crying, couldn’t bring himself to care.
He shoved his parents away, then pushed himself off the hospital bed. He didn’t bother trying to stay on his feet. His knees his the ground once again as his parents furiously grabbed his arms to soften the fall.
“I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry. I tried to save him – I tried but I couldn’t – he didn’t, he wasn’t – stupid Deku went against the fucker on his own – I told him to stop doing this alone, he promised – I promised –”
Any coherent thought was lost in his rapidly quickening muttering. Katsuki closed his eyes, readying himself, expecting a hit or yelling or screaming, but nothing of that sort came.
Instead, two shaky arms wrapped around his middle, bringing him into yet another hug. Auntie’s body was shaking with sobs as much as his was, but she still held on.
“It’s not your fault,” she sniffed. “I know it isn’t. I know you love him. Izuku loved you too.”
Katsuki screamed. A loud, ugly, heartbreaking sound that had the door smashing open and people rushing in only to back up at the sight.
He didn’t notice. Shielded by the three adults, Katsuki broke down.
~~~
It was a little scary how easily the world moved on.
It wasn’t all that surprising. Many people died in the war, heroes and civilians alike. Japan had to be rebuild and society had to reconstruct itself. People wanted to get back to normalcy, wanted to forget all the bloodshed and destruction.
Katsuki couldn’t let go of the past. Not like he tried in the first place. He understood why people wanted to move on but that didn’t mean he didn’t resent them for that.
(That didn’t mean he didn’t hate the statue they built for Deku. Because the memorial was for Deku the savior, not for Izuku the kid that sacrificed himself so other people could live happy lives.)
And yet, Katsuki played into the pretense. It wasn’t that hard; he had been pretending and lying to himself half of his life after all. So when the first day of school came, he found himself sitting down on his chair without remembering the short walk from the dorms to the classroom.
He never looked at the empty chair behind him.
(He chose the seat so he could pretend Deku didn’t attend the same school, the same class, as him. Not seeing him meant he wasn’t there, right?
Except he wasn’t. Not anymore.
Katsuki ignored the bitter voice in his head that sounded exactly like his younger-self, mocking him with “Isn’t this what you wanted? For Deku to be gone?”)
Huffing, he laid his head on his hands, settling on watching his classmates enter the room. Every single one of them looked towards the seat behind him, wincing and looking away quickly.
Soon, all of the chairs were taken. All except one.
Aizawa entered the classroom with Shinso following closely behind. The student kept his head down, even quieter than usual.
The room fell silent.
“From now on, Shinso will be a member of your class. I expect you to treat him the same way you do to each other. Any questions?”
Their sensei didn’t give them time to say anything, already turning to the transfer student: “Go sit so we can begin.”
Shinso didn’t move, eyes glued to the empty chair that once belonged to Izuku and was now supposed to be his.
“Sensei.” Despite his voice being no louder than a whisper, there was urgency in it. “I can’t - don’t make me -”
Katsuki has had enough.
The sound of his palms hitting his desk crashed through the room like a thunder. “Stop whining,” he spit out through gritted teeth, “and sit down. Iz – he’d want you to have the seat. He’d say some overly sweet bullshit about you deserving the spot or something like that. So don’t make me repeat myself and sit the fuck down so we can start.”
“Bakugo!”
“What?” He turned towards Aizawa, teeth bared. He pointedly ignored the flinches or the way Shinso took a subtle step back. “It’s not like Deku is going to come back from the dead. Stop beatin’ around the bush, Izuku’s not going to use it anymore so there’s no point in wasting a seat that’s free.” Katsuki sat down, not realizing he had stood up. “He’d agree with me.”
If they wanted to respect the nerd, the least they could do was accept the fact that he wasn’t coming back. Izuku sacrificed himself so they could have a future, and Shinso was spitting on his legacy by refusing to follow his dream.
Izuku always believed in everyone. He believed in Mindfreak from the beginning, always thought he deserved to be a hero. He would love to have him in the same class because the idiot was kind like that.
(He was way too kind, and even though his kindness was what killed him, Katsuki would not defile the idea Izuku died for. He couldn’t, not anymore, not when it meant he could hold onto Izuku a little longer.)
Aizawa stared at him and Katsuki stubbornly stared back. He knew everyone expected to see him explode, to throw a fit and yell at Shinso for taking Izuku’s place, but –
But that would not come. Not today, at least. Maybe in another universe, or another day, but right now, Katsuki just wanted to pretend.
At least pretending was something he knew how to do.
Aizawa took a deep breath, closing his eyes and gesturing at the chair once again. “While I think it could have been said differently, Bakugo is right. Shinso, if you would.”
Judging by the glint in his eyes, Shinso was contemplating brainwashing not only their teacher but also Katsuki, and Katsuki was almost tempted to provoke him. Almost. He’s had enough for the day, and it even barely started.
Slowly, Shinso walked past him and sat down on the chair, the movement laced with anger and despair.
“I know it’s hard,” Aizawa told them. “It’s going to take some adjustment. The situation you all are in is far from normal, which is why you’ll have mandatory meetings with Hound Dog, and if he finds it necessary, with specialists too. I’ll send you a schedule of the sessions during the day.” His eyes scanned the room, firm yet soft at the same time. “If you skip, it’s going to affect your overall evaluation, which may result in you not being allowed to participate in some exercises. Am I clear?”
A chorus of “Yes, sensei” resolved around the room, although it was obvious they all were far from happy about it.
Katsuki had a feeling that no amount of mandatory therapy could fix how fucked-up they were.
Luckily, Aizawa was never one for stalling, so they started the lessons pretty soon after some more administrative information.
Katsuki tried to pay attention, he really did, but he found himself tuning in and out halfway through Aizawa’s sentences with his hand stopped writing mid-word. If Aizawa noticed, he said nothing.
He was probably just glad the class worked.
The morning lessons were over surprisingly soon. Katsuki was just packing his bag when a very tall, very thin and very annoying person stood up right next to him.
“I’m not trying to replace him,” Shinso blurted out before Katsuki managed to do anything else than glare at him.
He blinked. “What?”
“I’m not trying to replace Midoriya,” Shinso repeated. His attention shifted as he addressed the whole class. “I swear. This isn’t how I wanted to get in the hero course.”
“We know, Shinso-kun,” Yaoyorozu assured him. “It’s as Aizawa-sensei said; none of us chose this.”
“I know you ain’t trying to replace him.” Katsuki stood up, slinging his backpack around one shoulder. “Because no one can replace him.” He looked him in the eyes to make sure to get his point across. “So you better prove he was right about you.”
To his credit, Shinso didn’t back down. Instead, he took the words as the challenge they were. Tilting his head to one side, he nodded. “You bet I will.”
An involuntary huff of something that might have been a laugh escaped him as he shoved his way past the new classmate, heading for the cafeteria. He wasn’t surprised when Mindfuck took a seat at their table, right opposite Shoto.
Whatever. Not like any of that mattered.
Not like Katsuki had a reason for anything to matter anymore.
~~~
Everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop, he knew.
Apparently he was in denial. He would argue that he wasn’t – he was pretty much aware that he would never see Izuku again.
He wasn’t in denial. He just sometimes… forgot.
He wasn’t doing it on purpose. He would turn around and open his mouth to utter a remark only to realize that Izuku isn’t there. He would watch his classmates during training, listening for an excited muttering that would never came and when he would look why he would realize that the nerd wasn’t by his side where he belonged.
He was so used to Izuku being here that the sudden realizations that he wasn’t always felt like a whiplash. They made him stop mid-word, staring into empty space, body going rigid and heart faltering as he was filled with emptiness and utter hollowness.
People noticed, of course. It wasn’t like they didn’t miss the almost constant rambling or the cheerful exclamations about everything. When asked, no one pushed, simply taking his snarled “I’m fine” as the dismissive it was.
He attended the mandatory therapy sessions. Hound Dog had him seeing a specialist, just like Aizawa had said, and Katsuki went only because he needed to. The sessions were filled with silence or snarks that the therapist labeled as “evasive behavior used as a coping mechanism” and told him he was avoiding any progress to get better as a result of survivor guilt.
It was the only time he looked directly at the doctor, staring her in the eyes as he told her, angry and nearly crying, “Of course I feel guilty. If anyone deserves to die, it’s me, not Izuku,” and stormed out of the room. She tried to get him to talk about it during their next meeting but was met with silence and silence only; he wasn’t about to open up about his and Izuku’s past to anyone else and certainly not her.
Had he been there, Deku would scold him, disappointed and probably even a little hurt. But he wasn’t here so he could kindly fuck off.
Adapting to a world without Izuku Midoriya was impossible. They grew up together and despite the years filled with bullying, they never spent more than a few days apart. They were a constant in each other’s life, revolving around the other, and they came even closer once they enrolled in U.A.
Then Izuku went and played vigilante and Katsuki’s world stopped. Then he brought him back and apologized and the need to be close to each other shifted into co-dependency a their regained friendship grew into a tentative relationship.
And then the final battle happened and Izuku died and suddenly, Katsuki’s world stopped existing.
Katsuki’s life was filled with ‘what if’s and ‘what could’ve been’s and he hated every single second of it. He spent so long running away from Izuku, spent so long just figuring out his own shit because he thought they had all the time they needed, only to get all his hopes and dreams crushed.
Katsuki could have done something sooner. Should have.
Now, all he had were memories of the time they spent apart and the very few, precious moments they get to be together.
~~~
He wasn’t sure what he hated more; the nightmares, or the moments when he woke up and desperately searched for a body that wasn’t there anymore.
At least with the nightmares, he got to touch him. He got to talk to him. He got to be with him.
It felt real, and it reminded him that he will never get to experience it again.
~~~
When someone inevitably fucked-up, it was Kaminari.
It wasn’t on purpose; just a slip of a tongue, a poor choice of words spoken by reflex.
That didn’t mean it hurt any less.
They were lounging around the living room, doing homework together, even if it was more of an excuse to spend time with each other, to reassure themselves that they were safe.
And then Kaminari groaned, draping himself over Katsuki. “Stop being so difficult and help us,” he whined. “Come on, Kacchaaaan.”
The explosion was immediate, shaking the whole building.
When the smoke cleared and the noise died away, there was a hole in the wall, right in the same direction Kaminari stood just a second ago. There was no sudden silence, a mix of yells and groans resounding through the room, but the world stilled nonetheless.
Most of the class moved to Kaminari, going to see if he’s okay, but Katsuki stood in one place, frozen and staring at the hole without actually seeing anything.
The commotion got worse when their teacher arrived, probably alarmed by the explosion. “What the hell happened?” Aizawa asked, eyes blazing in preparation to use his quirk. “Bakugo, what did you -”
“It’s not his fault!” Kaminari yelled, words slightly slurred. He was supported by Kirishima and Sero, bruised and burnt a little. There was a cut on his forehead, which meant he probably had a concussion. “Not his fault, sensei.”
“How could it -” Aizawa stopped mid-sentence, finally taking a look at the state Katsuki was in. Judging by the way he hesitated, he didn’t like what he was seeing. “Kirishima, Sero, take him to Recovery Girl.”
The trio hesitated, eyes locked on their way too-still classmate. No one dared to come close to Bakugo, but no one liked the blank, dead look in his eyes.
“Now,” Aizawa ordered.
At last, they moved. Kaminari looked like he wanted to say something but decided not to, hanging his head in defeat and groaning when the motion made everything hurt. The two boys by his sides ushered him forward, whispering something Katsuki couldn’t hear.
“Bakugo.”
He snapped out of his trace. Snarling, he bared his teeth at Aizawa, hands sparkling and immediately dying when the older hero activated his quirk. But Katsuki couldn’t care less; everything felt far away and so close at the same time, reality crashing with his mind where the one word, one nickname, one name resounded again and again.
“Fuck off,” he hissed. His hands were raised in a battle-ready stance, the position instinctive.
Aizawa raised his eyebrow. He took a step towards the student but stopped when Katsuki didn’t back away. Suddenly, his whole demeanor changed. “It’s okay, kid. I just want to know what happened.”
Jiro stepped up, vary and hesitating. It was an accident, sensei. Kaminari called Bakugo -”
“Do not,” Katsuki interrupted her harshly, “call me that.” Panic was rising in his chest and he felt weak in more ways then one. The fact that one childish nickname had the power to make him lose his mind made him feel so stupid, but the thought of someone else - someone who wasn’t Izuku - calling him that was just so wrong.
Luckily, Aizawa seemed to understand. His face twisted with sorrow and pity, and that was what did it.
Katsuki turned on his heel and dashed out of the room. No one tried to stop him, which was telling on itself.
The tears came before he reached his room, but only there did he allow himself to fall apart. His knees hit the floor and the world became blurry as he buried his hands in his hair, yanking roughly at the spikes.
“What the fuck,” he muttered, voice just a little hysterical. “What the fuck.”
Until now, he didn’t realize how much he missed it. How much he missed Izuku’s “Kacchan!” whether it was said in that awfully awed tone, or a disappointed one, or when he scolded him, or when he called out to him to freak out about some nerdy shit -
Gods bud did it hurt realizing just how fucking much he missed hearing the nickname that had somehow became his second name. How much it hurt to have yet another reminder that a substantial part of Katsuki was no longer here.
The hysteria rose anew when it hit him that the voice in his head doesn’t sound right. It should belong to Izuku but it didn’t. It wasn’t as soft, it lacked all the emotions.
His next breath caught in his chest. No. No, no, no, no, he couldn’t be forgetting already. Not yet, it was so soon, too soon, Katsuki wasn’t ready.
(As if he could ever be.)
He fumbled around, desperate hands shaking. He found his phone eventually. It took him a few attempts to unlock it but once he did it, he wasted no time in opening their chat. For once he was glad that Izuku’s rambling meant he loved sending voice messages, so Katsuki clicked on the first one he reached. He slumped back on the floor as the nerd’s voice filled the room, tears streaming down his face as he hugged his knees to his chest.
The memory righted itself as he listened. He sobbed when the first “Kacchan!” made it over the message, and kept sobbing as he went through other messages. He fell asleep right there on the floor, listening to Izuku’s voice as if it was his only salvation.
He woke up the next day, body sore and head hurting. The initial numbness faded away as memories from yesterday flooded his head and Katsuki winced. He should probably apologize to Kaminari. More than probably. He didn’t want to but the small part of his brain that lingered on Deku reminded him that the nerd would want that.
And Katsuki held onto even the smallest reminders of his partner.
Half of the class was already up and talking in the common room, although they quieted down the moment he entered. Someone had already fixed the hole in the wall, including cleaning the rubble around. He focused on Kaminari, though, glad to see him completely healthy.
It would have been better if the idiot didn’t have a completely guilty expression plastered all over his face. He sprung out of his chair, hands waving. “Bakugo! I -”
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, then grimaced. He has changed a lot, yes, but that didn’t mean apologies were easy to him. He wanted to add more but couldn’t; the words got stuck in his throat so he just stared at him.
Kaminari stared back, completely dumbfounded. Fucker, that was so uncalled for. Katsuki frowned at him and Kaminari snapped out of his surprise. “No! Thanks, bro, but that was totally unnecessary. That was a mistake on my side so I’m really, really sorry. Seriously, dude, I didn’t even realize. I didn’t mean to, I swear.”
He knows. He knows Kaminari didn’t mean it. He wouldn’t be alive otherwise. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, nor that the unwelcome attention from the whole class was not making him comfortable. He wasn’t sure what was worse; the fact that they were expecting an outrage, or the fact that they didn’t want to hold it against him this time.
“Just forget it, Sparky,” he mumbled, tone sharper than he intended to. The Don’t you ever do that again went unsaid, but it was there.
Kaminari nodded eagerly. Sero, ever the savior, shifted the topic to something lighter with a perfectly timed remark.
The only repercussion came in the form of upping his mandatory therapist meetings, shortening the time between his visits. But just like that, life went on, despite the hole where his heart once was growing bigger and bigger with each passing day.
~~~
Katsuki stopped mid-motion, eyes widening as he took in the sight of his partner. “You’re alive?”
He looked differently than how Katsuki remembered him. There were new scars all over his body, corresponding with his injuries from the battle. His hair was longer, too, and there was something off about the way he held himself. But it was, without question, the man Katsuki loved more than anything.
“Why would I tell you, Katsuki?”
Katsuki stilled, shocked. Izuku had never called him by his name. Never.
He stared right at Katsuki, piercing him with green eyes so hard Katsuki was sure the gaze went right through his soul, as he continued: “Isn’t that what you wanted, after all? For me to be dead?”
His heart stopped.
What?
“No! I - Deku. Izuku, I love you,” he pleaded.
Deku’s face was so, so cold. He’d never seen a look so heartless on the nerd’s always bright face. “And?”
He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was slowly sinking underwater. “What?”
“Don’t tell me you expect me to say it back.”
Nothing made sense.
“Did you really think I could love you?” Izuku continued, tilting his head on one side. That move used to be cute, now it was mocking.
He said nothing, too shocked to form a response, and Izuku laughed. “Oh my, you did. This is golden. And you called me stupid.” He stepped closer, cutting the distance between them. Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to move when Izuku lifted one scarred hand and placed it against his chest, right where Katsuki’s heart was. “You want to know a secret? I never loved you. I mean, how could I?” He laughed again, bright and light and so, so scorching.
“Please,” he whispered, blinking away the tears. He didn’t know what was happening, just knew that Izuku was alive and breathing and right here, and he could come back home with Katsuki. To Katsuki. “Please, Izuku, I love you. You’re alive. Even if you don’t love me, come back. We can still be hero partners. I’ll do anything.”
“Oh, Kacchan .” Izuku smiled at him, pure hatred in his eyes despite the (fake, fake, fake) gentle tone of his voice. “You still don’t get it. I never died. I did it to get away from you. I don’t want to have anything to do with you.” His smile sharpened, nails digging into his chest. “So get out and don’t ever bother me again.”
Deku took a step back, then turned and walked away. “And Kacchan?” he called over his shoulder. “You did this to yourself. I’m just doing what you wanted me to do.”
He didn’t. Katsuki never wanted this. He wanted his Izuku back.
He needed him.
But he could do nothing but watch as his other half walked out of his life. He could do nothing as Izuku Midoriya finally realized what Katsuki knew all along: that he never deserved him. That despite trying his best, he would end up hurting him.
It was what Katsuki was best at, after all.
Gasping, Katsuki’s eyes flew open. His breathing was shallow and quick as he blinked rapidly, trying and failing to calm down his racing heart. He was on his feet the next moment, stumbling to the trashcan next to his desk.
He didn’t know how long he spend hunched over the trashcan, throwing up or just heaving, but when he finally calmed down and became aware of his surrounding and his own existence, the sun was rising and shining through his blinds.
Nothing made any sense. His thoughts were all over the place, the nightmare musing with his memories, corrupting them, twisting the truth into something ugly and hateful.
Was… Was it true?
No. It couldn’t be. Izuku loved him, he said so so many times.
But maybe he didn’t mean it. Maybe it was just a way to get back at Katsuki. He wouldn’t blame him after everything he had done to the nerd.
Was it all a lie? Just a pretense?
Was Izuku really dead?
“What the fuck,” he muttered. His hands were shaking, his voice was too, fuck it, his whole body was because his world was spinning, tilting on its axis as he couldn’t figure out where reality laid.
He got up when his alarm went off, body working on autopilot. He stared at his lock screen - a photo of Dynamight and Deku right before the battle - for a few minutes, just breathing and feeling.
No. He loved Izuku, and Izuku loved him. Katsuki was sure of that. It was the truth.
(It had to be.)
Sighing, he put the phone down and started his morning routine. No matter how much he tried, though, he could never fully crush the doubting thoughts in the back of his mind.
~~~
It was just a matter of time before he cracked. Half of the class noticed at the same day that something was wrong with him, and the fucking therapist realized as soon as he walked through the door to their office. They didn’t get anything out of him, though.
Despite not saying anything, Katsuki knew he wasn’t really subtle. He was paranoid, always looking over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of green hair or eyes or freckles or the sparks of One For All as his mind chanted What if, what if, what if.
It was slowly driving him crazy, so he decided to go to the one person that would definitely know what was the truth, to the one person who wouldn’t lie to him about it.
All Might didn’t look surprised to see him. He had him seated on that couch, sipping tea while he listened as the ex-hero talked gently about nothing really important.
He interrupted All Might mid-sentence and the man instantly fell silent, obviously waiting for him to speak up.
“Is Deku,” Katsuki started, hesitating. How the fuck could he word this so he wouldn’t come off as a total nutcase? “I just want to know. You have to answer honestly. Is Izuku really dead?”
There. He said it.
All Might leaned back, surprised at the question. Katsuki immediately tilted his head down, his hair hiding his eyes.
All Might exhaled softly. “He is.” He hesitate, lifting one hand, then standing up as he changed his mind. The couch dipped slightly when he sat next to Katsuki. “Young Bakugo, I’m sorry.”
So was he.
He didn’t fight him off when All Might wrapped his arms around him, enveloping him in a hug. Before, Katsuki would have fought. He would have struggled to get out of the grip, would have shoved him away and hissed something about not being weak enough to need a hug.
Now, he didn’t have the energy to fight.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t think I want to.”
The confession was freeing.
All Might hugged him tighter. “I know. But young Midoriya would want you to go on. Be the number one.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. He knew. He fucking knew, but how was he supposed to go on when every single vision of his future he has had so far included Izuku? Always there, always by his side, always next to him.
How could he win when he already lost what mattered the most?
“You have to try. For him.”
For Izuku. As if there was anything Katsuki did that wasn’t for him.
He buried his face in his mentor’s chest, hiding from the world for just a moment. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest advice but Katsuki wasn’t looking for one.
Slowly, he nodded. “For Izuku.”
Okay. He could do that.
He will do that. And if he’s lucky, he will die trying. Maybe then they could be together like they should be.
~~~
Izuku Midoriya died in a battle, taking Katsuki’s heart with him.