Fork In The Road [Chapter 3]

[Chapter 2]

Soon enough their break from school was over, and while Izuku dreaded the return of his classes, it also brought with it Katsuki's first U.A. Sports Festival. Izuku buzzed with his excitement as they sat on the train, Katsuki in his gym uniform ready to get going the moment they arrived.

Izuku had dug out a pair of dark jeans, the same ones he'd worn to Katsuki's acceptance party, the ones he knew Katsuki was okay with. He'd even gone so far as to buy a new shirt, since Katsuki hadn't been a big fan of his green one. The new one was a few shades darker than Katsuki's eyes, the deepest of reds, and Katsuki had smirked a little when he saw it.

“Half-and-half,” Katsuki mumbled reluctantly, when Izuku pushed him about the competition. “He's the only one who could keep up with me if we went one on one.”

“He must be really incredible.”

“He's alright. He's kind of a stuck up prick, never deigns to use his fire on any of us, like he's constantly showing he doesn't need to use all his power. It's a pain in the ass. Heroes aren't supposed to be cocky.”

Izuku raised an eyebrow at him, and Katsuki punched him stubbornly.

“You know what I mean. You don't just intentionally use half your strength because you think someone is beneath you. That's a recipe for disaster.”

“Yeah,” Izuku nodded. “But you said he's intelligent too, right? So he knows that, he wouldn't be stupid enough to think he can just go easy on everyone, especially not you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe there's some other reason he won't use his fire? You should ask him one day. Nicely, preferably, but that's probably a stretch.”

“Fuck you.”

“You only say that when you know I'm right.”

Tiny explosions popped in Katsuki's hand, threatening him despite the packed car full of civilians heading to the festival. A few sidelong glances went their way, but nobody said a word when they saw Katsuki's blue pants, sticking out beneath a dark grey hoodie. Everyone knew what that colour meant, who that colour belonged to.

“I know you're gonna win, Kacchan, it's no big deal,” Izuku grinned. “I just think maybe you should get to know one of the only classmates you ever talk about, that's all!”

“He's not my friend.”

“But he could be, if you talk to him!”

“I don't want to make any shitty friends.”

“That's a bit sad, Kacchan. You've always had lots of friends around you, won't you get lonely?”

“I'm there to work, to become a hero, not to make friends with some shitty half-assed stupid-quirk losers.”

“They wouldn't be in your class if any of that was true.”

Katsuki scowled, left with no retort, and Izuku smiled fondly as he nudged his friend in the ribs.

“You know, if you showed up in my class and said that,” Izuku began, knitting his eyebrows together and dropping his voice an octave in a poor imitation of Katsuki. “Like, 'I'm not here to make friends, nerd' y'know? I would just take that as a challenge.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I would be determined to make friends with you just to prove you wrong.”

“Asshole.”

As the train pulled to a stop, people began to file off in an orderly procession, and Izuku checked one more time that his ticket was still secure in his pocket. He somewhat dreaded the moment that Katsuki would leave him, that he would head off to join his amazing classmates and Izuku would be left to watch on his own, but he hoped the moment the contest began he would be too enthralled to care.

“Come on,” Katsuki said quietly, dragging him out of the crowd to skirt around the edges, making him jog up the stairs. “This way.”

He pushed open a side door, showing his school ID card to the security guard nearby, and led the way down an empty hall. It had to be the competitors entrance, Izuku assumed, and suddenly he felt awkward about being there.

“Relax, nerd,” Katsuki said knowingly, not bothering to look back. “You're with the future gold medalist, why are you stressing?”

“You're amazing, Kacchan,” Izuku said fondly. “I'm just not supposed to be here, that's all.”

“What? It's fine, the waiting room and stuff are down that way.” He gestured back the way they came, then pointed to the door ahead of them. “This is the friends and relatives section, that dumb ticket in your pocket is all you need to be allowed here.”

“O-Oh.”

When he pushed open the heavy door, the echoing footsteps and quiet corridors immediately gave way. The soundproofing in those walls had to be fantastic, because the noise beyond was deafening. Katsuki shoved his way through a little mob of people as if they didn't exist, gesturing to Izuku when they reached another security guard. Izuku pulled his ticket out obediently, handing it to the man, and with a little nod he waved them through.

The section was nearly full, only three rows of seats included, split off from the other sections by little half-walls. Most of the people inside seemed to be parents, a few siblings scattered about too, but Izuku felt oddly out of place again.

“Here,” Katsuki gestured toward an empty seat – front row, on the end. “This is yours.”

“You got me a front row seat, Kacchan?!”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Someone else had them but wanted an extra ticket for their step-dad or some shit, I said they could have my spare if you could have their front row seat.”

“Kacchan, you're amazing,” Izuku mumbled, disbelieving. “You're so nice to me.”

“Whatever, nerd. Watch me closely, alright? Don't take your eyes off me.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

“And here, take this. I don't trust those losers in the dressing rooms.”

He stripped off his hoodie, tossing it in Izuku's lap, and he nodded faintly. It was still warm from his body heat, made of the softest material Izuku had ever felt. Katsuki's clothes were always that way, no matter how plain they looked. High end labels his parents had sources for, things Izuku didn't want to even begin to see the average price tag of.

“You can use it if you get cold,” Katsuki mumbled, as he turned to barge his way back out of the section. “It gets windy out here.”

“Th-Thanks, Kacchan!” he called after him, as the boy began to leave immediately. “Work hard, okay? I'll be watching!”

Katsuki raised one hand in a vague wave over his shoulder, not bothering to look back, and Izuku smiled as people parted for him. People knew that colour, knew who it belonged to. Soon they would know Katsuki's face just as well.

When he disappeared down the corridor they came from, Izuku glanced down at his lap, at the charcoal grey fabric so soft and silky in his hands. He wasn't cold, but that was an easy enough lie.

─

Izuku was on the edge of his seat as they waited for the starting gun to fire, watching eagerly over the barrier as all the students packed into one small starting area. He could see the obstacles to come, even if the contestants couldn't, and he already knew it was going to be a good show.

When the doors opened, Katsuki was one of the first to launch himself ahead. Two powerful blasts from his hands propelled him over the crowd, leaving them in his dust. Only a few people kept pace with him, and when Izuku saw one of them skate a long a path of ice, he immediately knew who the young man was. He had two-toned hair, red and white, split right down the middle. Izuku wondered if it was natural or intentional, but he figured Katsuki would never have bothered to ask.

Katsuki glared at him as he used his ice to push ahead, but then the first obstacle came, familiar robots that Izuku knew far too well for his liking. He'd almost died to one of those things, had been laughed at for even trying, but here Katsuki was launching himself into the air, darting over their heads as if they were nothing, just a lifeless hunk of metal that meant him no harm.

A myriad of quirks followed behind him – lightning frying their mechanisms, some kind of sound wave firing them back, and where did that cannon come from?? He couldn't keep up with everything going on, couldn't even makes sense of the commentary blaring from the speakers half the time. He knew the main speaker was the famed Present Mic, he'd heard enough radio shows to know that voice anywhere, but with the cheering from the crowd and feedback from the speakers, he could hardly decipher the words. Every so often when the noise died down, he heard another voice too, but it took him hlf the obstacle voice to identify it.

“What are you teaching your students, Eraser Head?”

So that man, with the calm voice and logical commentary, so trusting in his students' abilities, was the one Katsuki had told him all about. The man with the flowing scarf and golden goggles he'd found hidden in the background of so many hero fights, dark hair flying around him. This was the man Katsuki was entrusted to.

Half-and-half and Katsuki were both across a cavern now, hardly even slowing their pace as Half-and-half skated across on a stream of ice, Katsuki launching himself through the air with a few powerful explosions. Other people stopped to consider the tight ropes, some were even stuck on the robots still, but all these people with the familiar quirks, all these people he'd heard stories about when he convinced Katsuki to open up, were firing in like that first place position was the only thing in their lives that mattered.

Katsuki was right, after all. Izuku didn't deserve to be there. Not even remotely.

He sat back in his seat, his face falling a little even as he watched Katsuki and half-and-half compete for the front position.

Why did he even bother to try? He should have known he could never keep up.

─

Izuku scrawled a few notes as he watched the students fight for numbered headbands, a lot less enthusiastic about it than he had initially hoped. He wanted to have something to present Katsuki with later, a reason for Katsuki to bring him back the next time, but as he'd watched the students compete he'd become more and more withdrawn. He wasn't like them, he would never be like them, and it was only now starting to really sink in.

He knew Katsuki was special, he'd never made a secret of that. He had spent his life singing his friend's praises, reminding him how amazing he was at every turn, but he was still a child, after all. He never really understood the extent of it until he saw Katsuki launch himself into the air, rocketing down at his opponents at full force, never giving half-and-half a moment of peace. In the first moments everyone had rushed for him, fighting to get to that excessively high number, but when Katsuki's team had begun their assault, the rest had known better than to get involved. It was a sports festival, not a death match.

The look on Katsuki's face as he walked off after the round was... Not something Izuku saw often. He was used to seeing him look happy after a fight, or as happy as you could really consider that twisted little smirk he produced sometimes, anyway. This was different, Katsuki was... Torn? There was no joy in the fight, no excitement, and something about that made Izuku's chest ache. Even with the mass of headbands in his grasp, snatched at the last second as the timer began to sound, even with his name at the top of the leaderboard, staring down at the crowd, even with everyone in the crowd bleating his name in varying degrees of fear and excitement, somehow Katsuki was miserable.

He reached for his phone, pulling it from his jeans pocket and staring at it for a moment. Would Katsuki have his on him? Would he check the message if he did?

> You were amazing out there! I can't wait to see you in the finals! ✺-(ˆ▽ˆ)/✺

He clutched the phone between his hands, watching them set up for the recreational activities, tilting his head slightly when he saw half-and-half heading into the wings. The final round was always a one-on-one competition, and it was going to be him and Katsuki in the finals, that much was already clear. Maybe he should gather his notes and send them to Katsuki before his round? No, Katsuki was watching too, he would have seen everything Izuku saw. He would save his collection for later, when he had Katsuki all to himself.

Maybe he might even get that smile back.

He shook it off and fought his way through the crowds, heading for the door Katsuki had brought him through earlier in the day. It still seemed unused by everyone else, Izuku wasn't entirely convinced he wasn't doing something wrong, but he figured anyone working for the school would understand his plight anyway, if he told them “Kacchan told me to”. The halls were much quieter, though still crowding with students and their friends and families, and he hurried in his path to avoid the masses, until–

Izuku shuffled from foot to foot nervously, debating his next move. Behind him was a crowd of people, gathered to praise their children who didn't quite make it through, to find friends and family for lunch, but beyond him was the Number Two Hero, a scowl on his face as he talked to half-and-half, who, oddly enough, had the same hair as...

Oh.

The look on the boy's face was almost painful to watch, such an obvious attempt at remaining impassive despite the real emotions raging inside him. It made Izuku ache a little, deep within his chest. He knew that look, knew that attempt at hiding his thoughts and feelings. Izuku took a tentative step forward, his footsteps echoing in the cold hall.

“Are you trying to embarrass me?” Endeavor demanded. “You could have taken that punk down with no trouble at all if you'd used your fire! Don't you care about making a good impression?! You let that demon child make a fool out of you, you should be ashamed of that performance.”

“Excuse me?” Izuku demanded, kicking himself for thinking without speaking. “That 'demon child' is my best friend. He's amazing and right now he's pissed because... because...”

He trailed off, glancing at his phone still clutched tight in his hand, then up at the younger and less angry gaze looking his way.

“You know why he's pissed,” he grumbled, looking up to Endeavor again. “And so should you. You're a hero, did you not watch the same competition as me?”

“He's a wild little brat who needs to be tamed. Shouto, you should have put him in his place while you had the chance.”

“He's more of a hero than you'll ever be,” Izuku fumed. “And yes I know your place on the billboard charts. This is why you'll never be as good as All Might!”

Endeavor took a step forward, a menacing scowl on his face, but the moment he began to raise a hand, a wall of ice blocked his way. Endeavor glared at his son, but the boy didn't move, just stared back with the same impassive look on his face, ice crystals dancing on his fingertips.

“Are you going to hit a kid you don't even know just for insulting you?” Shouto asked flatly.

“Of course not.”

Izuku turned his gaze, meeting two different coloured eyes, and managed an awkward smile. He tried to convey his thanks with his expression, getting a short nod in return, and took another nervous step forward.

“I thought your power was amazing,” he said awkwardly. “That giant ice wall you made? I've never seen anything else like it. It was incredible! And having fire in your other hand? That must be awesome, even if you don't use it much. What happens if you clap? Does it make water? What about your hair? Is that- Oh. I'm sorry. I'm getting carried away again.”

“It's fine.”

“But really, I think your power is amazing! I hope one day I can watch you use both sides, make it your own and all.”

“Thank you, uh...”

“Oh! Sorry! I'm Midoriya Izuku. It's nice to meet you! Todoroki-san, right?”

“Yeah. Todoroki Shouto.”

“Well, I'd better go, but well done Todoroki-san! Good luck in the final round, I look forward to seeing it!”

With a last little bow he skipped off down the next hall, surprised to find Katsuki leaning against a wall with his head down. He halted in his tracks, staring at the tension held in Katsuki's jaw, the gritted teeth and clenched fists.

“Kacchan,” he said softly, taking a step closer. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?” he demanded, his voice a little softer than usual nonetheless.

“All of it.”

His feet moved before he could think, stepping in close, his arms winding around Katsuki's tiny waist. He pressed his warm body against Katsuki's, surprised by how abnormally cold he felt, and as he leaned his cheek on Katsuki's shoulder he braced himself for the explosion that would fire him into the opposite wall, for the hiss of anger and the brutal insults that would follow.

“What are you doing?” he asked instead.

“Hugging you.”

“Why, dumbass?”

“Because...”

You looked like you needed it.

“Because I wanted to,” Izuku answered instead, squeezing a little tighter. “It's okay, right?”

Katsuki hesitated, but slowly his hands came up from his sides, sitting lightly on the small of Izuku's back. He didn't pull away, didn't twitch or fire off sparks, just leaned his chin against Izuku's curls lightly.

“I know you're frustrated,” he said softly. “I know it's not how you wanted things to go. But you still won and you would have won even if he'd used it. I knowyou Kacchan, he has nothing on you. You'll show them all over again in the final round.”

“Whatever, nerd.”

“I took notes for you. If you want them. I know you were analysing anyway, but I thought you might be busy focussing on your opponents, plus sometimes you couldn't see the people behind you and stuff.”

“Yeah. Show me.”

Katsuki was strangely soft considering his outburst after the round, and Izuku silently wondered why it bothered him so much. He had always wished Katsuki would be a little gentler with him, but now that he had it before him, it was... Wrong.

“Only if you say please,” Izuku tested, stepping back to put a little distance between them. “Ask nicely and maybe I'll share.”

“Yeah fucking right, think I need your nerd shit that bad? Got this fuckin' far without your ass, didn't I?”

“There's my Kacchan,” Izuku giggled, digging the scribbled notes from his bag. “Oh, and here!”

He dumped them in Katsuki's hands and shrugged off the warm hoodie, pulling it around Katsuki's shoulders instead.

“Kept it warm for you!” he grinned. “You did so good, Kacchan. When you launched yourself and the guy with the tape pulled you back? That was so cool! And genius! You found the one person who could pull you back and used it to your advantage, let yourself use all your mobility and speed without being held back by a group of people! I'm so impressed, Kacchan!”

When Katsuki looked up, the fire was back in his eyes. A little dim, admittedly, like glowing embers rather than a burning forest, but compared to the dull darkness of a few minutes ago, it was the warmest, coziest fireplace Izuku had ever seen.

“What's this shit?” Katsuki frowned, glaring at Izuku's scrawled handwriting. “You expect me to decipher this crap?”

“I'll type it up for you, Kacchan! I was just excited and wanted to show you before the final challenge!”

“Fine,” he grumbled, shoving the papers back into Izuku's grip. “Send it to me later.”

“I will!”

“Maybe I'll add some too.”

“Yeah! Please! Let's go get lunch and you can tell me everything I need to add!”

“You're buying, dork.”

“I know!” Izuku grinned, putting the pages away safely. “I'm really proud of you, Kacchan. You were amazing, just like you always are. I can't wait to see you get the medal.”

“Whatever.”

─

When the jeers began from the audience, Izuku was mortified. Here Katsuki was, fighting his heart out against a frankly incredible classmate, and all these people could see was a boy beating up a girl. Bakugou Katsuki was a lot of things, but he was not a sexist. She was actually pretty clever, floating the rubble up high and keeping his attention low, but she seemed to have forgotten one thing.

That, you know, Katsuki could blow it up.

The arena fell dead silent as Eraser Head spoke through the intercom, berating the heroes in the audience who tore Katsuki down. He was being cautious, he was keeping his guard up because she was a strong opponent. Izuku nodded along, muttering under his breath, until he caught a glimpse of the concerned expressions surrounding him. He gave them an apologetic smile and pulled out his notes again, scribbling the words and keeping his lips tightly shut.

Still the girl was persisting, gathering more and more weaponry to add to her arsenal – it was a shame, Izuku would have liked to see more from her, but time was running out for her festival career. Sure enough, she released her quirk, and Katsuki looked up. For a moment he looked surprised, even impressed, that she'd managed to set it up without him noticing. But then...

The arena shook with the impact, rubble exploding into the audience, and Izuku cringed as he shielded his face from debris, almost losing his notebook in the process.

Yeah, it would have been a good plan, if it wasn't Katsuki she was dealing with.

She hit the ground, and Katsuki took two steps forward before the referee cut him off. His eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly like he might protest, before he understood. Instead he turned away, jamming his hands in his pockets.

He wanted to help.

The thought struck Izuku like a freight train, watching the way his posture tensed up defensively. Katsuki had been rushing over to help, to check she was okay, and everyone had assumed...

God, this really was a good school for him. He was changing so fast, growing up all of a sudden.

He'll leave you behind.

He did his best to shove the thought aside, to store it deep down where he could pretend it didn't exist for as long as possible, and his fist tightened so hard it shook around his pen.

Bury it, Izuku. Bury it all.

The girl – Uraraka, he learned, when he glanced up at the scoreboard finally – was carted away on a stretcher, and for a moment Katsuki lingered, staring after her, before the supervisers waved him away so they could fix the arena. Izuku fumbled for his phone when Katsuki headed for the students' section of the audience, only a few sections down, and tapped furiously at the keys, watching to see if Katsuki would hear it. Sure enough he saw a hand reach into a pocket, glancing at the phone screen like he might just put it away, but then pulling it out for real.

> You trying to be my old man or something?

Izuku giggled, shaking his head as he typed back.

> I get it, you're proud or whatever, quit bleating it.

“Never,” Izuku mumbled to himself. “I'll never quit it.”

─

Frustration was flooding Katsuki's face as the match went on, every burst of ice immediately destroyed by an easy explosion, every blast from Katsuki's hand countered by a wall of ice. At this rate it was going to come down to whoever hit their limit first, and considering Todoroki had a whole second quirk, Izuku feared the worst. Katsuki had fallen into a pattern, a trap even, and if he didn't break out soon, he was going to do something stupid out of anger.

“Why don't you just end this shitty dance?!” Katsuki yelled, a hush falling over the arena. “You think I can blow up your fuckin' fire, half-and-half?!”

Todoroki responded with something much quieter, something Izuku couldn't quite make out, and Katsuki roared as he dove in with another explosion waiting on his fingertips. At least he seemed a little more like himself again, Izuku supposed. No more softness and empty eyes.

“This is your fuckin' quirk! Your power doesn't belong to anyone but you you asshole! The rest of us are out here working ourselves half to death to win this shitty thing, and you're so fuckin' stuck up that you won't even use your whole quirk?!”

Izuku's eyes widened, as for the first time, Todoroki's mask cracked. His impassive look, eternally bored and uncaring, twisted into a grimace. Frost flowers were blooming all over Todoroki's body, his limbs trembling with the cold, but still Katsuki pelted him with explosions, and a little slower, Todoroki blocked them with ice.

With anyone else's quirk, the fight would have been over long ago. Whether because they couldn't keep up with a stamina these two shared, because they couldn't block the endless attacks, or hell, because their quirk didn't generate heat like Katsuki's to draw out the process, it would have been over much sooner.

Instead, the round drew on, the crowd growing tense as the advantaged shifted back and forth over a thin line. One moment Katsuki was stumbling back, almost stepping out of bounds, and the next, Todoroki was hitting the ground, taking a second too long to get back up, inciting an entire audience of held breaths.

Izuku couldn't hear the words they exchanged anymore, not with the constant explosions making his ears ring, but Todoroki's face changed again, and then, as if he was watching it in slow motion, Izuku saw the left arm raise from his side.

A tiny spark, a little burst that made Katsuki yell in triumph as the arena filled with a wall of fire.

Endeavor was on his feet, yelling what he probably thought was encouragement, and suddenly Todoroki was hesitating. For one brief moment, as Katsuki threw a blast his way, he paused. He glanced at his left hand like it was a monster rather than a limb, like he had no idea what he'd just done, and then...

His foot crossed the line.

Katsuki started yelling the moment the referee spoke, started protesting, started defending Todoroki, arguing that both feet should have to cross, but...

There it was, on the screens. Bakugou Katsuki, champion.

Just like that, it was over.

Katsuki's clothes hung off him in tatters, tight biceps sticking out from the shreds of his sleeves. Todoroki's shirt was scorched nearly in half, whether from fire or explosions Izuku couldn't be sure.

It was over.

Izuku didn't wait for the fanfare, the ceremony, the congratulations. He was already on his feet, shrugging the baggy hoodie into place as he shouldered his bag, walking through the corridors in search of the right doors – the doors Katsuki would return to him through.

He didn't see the fight in the waiting room, didn't see the undignified ceremony, though he heard the whispers and laughter, didn't see anything until they wheeled his friend back through the door – wait, wheeled?

He stared in horror at the medal strung from Katsuki's mouth, the tight metal braces around his hands to keep him from exploding anything. Watched as they unfastened the restraints, stepping back like he was some kind of maniac who would lash out the moment they set him loose. When they finally reached to free his hands, Izuku made his decision.

He turned the corner and went back the way he came.

Bury it deep, Izuku.

He was used to repressing things at this point, used to forcing himself to forget, had mastered it like an art form. He would bury that image, burn it out from under his skin, and for Katsuki's sake, he would never, ever mention it. Would never watch that footage, would never look at the photos, would never breathe a word about the ceremony. That moment was dead to him.

“Kacchan!” He called happily, when the slumped form emerged from the hall, eyes downcast. “There you are! That took forever, I've been waiting!”

He summoned all his courage and threw his arms around Katsuki's neck, hugged him tight with all the childhood love he'd collected throughout their lives together, as if they were three years old again, sleeping over in each other's bedrooms.

“You were so good, Kacchan,” he whispered, pressing their temples together. “I ran here as soon as they announced it, I couldn't wait to see you and tell you how incredible you were. You even made him use his fire after he said he never would, and still you beat him. Kacchan is amazing.”

“You sound like you're trying to get me into bed or some shit.”

Izuku laughed, a much brighter sound than he'd expected, and for a moment he was weirdly proud of himself for it.

“I know it didn't go how you wanted,” Izuku acknowledged. “I know it was over too soon, I know he hesitated, I know, but you deserved this victory, Kacchan. You deserved it more than anyone else out there.”

“Everyone has their own history,” Katsuki grumbled, his arms finally looping around Izuku's waist. “Most of their stories are...”

“Tragic?” Izuku smiled wryly, “like all those movie heroes you complain about?”

“Yeah.”

“You don't have to be damaged to be strong.”

“They all have these stupid, shitty, noble reasons to be heroes.”

“So do you, Kacchan,” Izuku argued, holding him a little tighter. “You want to make the world a better place.”

“According to these shitheads I just want to beat people up.”

“You can't save people if you don't win. Heroes never lose, Kacchan.”

“You don't have to tell me that,” Katsuki snorted, shoving Izuku off. “What's with all the shitty hugs today? You should be fuckin' grateful, not even my shitty parents get to hug me.”

“I'm super grateful, Kacchan.”

“Could blow your ass up in a heartbeat if I wanted to.”

“That wouldn't be very heroic, I'm just a civilian,” Izuku pouted. “If you attack your school friends they can defend themselves, if you attack me it'll look bad on your criminal record.”

“You threatening me, loser?”

“Never, Kacchan!” Izuku grinned. “You know I'm right though.”

“Fuck you.”

“You only say that when-”

“Fuck you,” Katsuki reiterated, glaring. “Don't say a fuckin' word.”

Izuku grinned, triumphant, but mimed zipping his lips. He slipped the hoodie back off and held it up, waiting for Katsuki to stuff his arm in the sleeve before he moved to the other side.

“Can I hold it?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.”

He handed the medal over and Izuku's eyes shone as he inspected it, memorising every detail of the design, how heavy it felt in his hands, the exact way it shone when the light hit it.

“I have to get changed and go to class,” Katsuku mumbled. “It shouldn't be for long, if you want to wait.”

“Of course I will!”

He led the way across the school grounds, waving toward a little courtyard area as they got close to the buildings

“You can't go further without a student ID,” he explained. “Sit here a while and I'll come back.”

“Take this, they'll want to see it.”

He pushed the medal back into Katsuki's hands, face falling at the way Katsuki's eyes hardened as he looked at it.

“The first of three,” Izuku reminded him, smiling softly. “The next one will be better, I know it. People make mistakes, first years especially, when they get older they'll give you more of a fight.”

“Yeah.” He nodded faintly, reaching out to tug at a handful of green curls. “Wait for me, nerd.”

“Always, Kacchan!”

He smiled, taking a seat under the trees, and reached for his phone. He would entertain himself a little while, let Katsuki have his time with his classmates, and then – if all went to plan – Katsuki would be all his again, to talk notes and strategies and give him fuel for his new collection of upcoming-hero books.

The news sites were blowing up, and Izuku was surprised to see that it wasn't because of the sports festival. There were the podium photos, sure – a powerful and kind looking group of third years, an almost nerdy-looking collection of skinny second years, and the medal strung between teeth that Izuku once again buried – but even higher, there was a villain attack. People injured, heroes injured. Hospitalised. Unsure about survival rates.

It was a mess, it was awful. He knew the name, too. Ingenium, kind hero, proud leader of a vast array of sidekicks who all respected him highly. What had he done to deserve this? Poor man, poor family.

Soon enough he heard the familiar footsteps returning, looking up to see Katsuki walking toward him in his school uniform. Even with the way he wore it, it always looked so neat and smart, despite the baggy pants hanging low around his hips, and the lack of-

Katsuki was wearing a tie.

Izuku gaped at him, stunned, fighting for words that didn't seem to want to come. He froze when he heard another voice, a familiar voice, then slowly sank back into the shadows to stay out of the way.

“Bakugou,” the voice said again, and Katsuki turned his head reluctantly. “I'm... Sorry. It didn't go the way it should have, and I'm sorry for contributing to you looking like a fool out there.”

“Fuck you,” Katsuki said softly, with no bite behind the words. “Leave me alone, I'm going home.”

“I'm going to visit my mother tomorrow, for the first time since... Well, ever, really.”

“Why are you telling me this shit? I don't give a fuck what you do with your day off.”

“I'll give you a rematch, when I've worked things out. The fight you wanted. Next time I won't make it so easy on you.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki grumbled, jamming his hands in his pockets. “Later, halfie.”

He didn't stop walking, never looked back, but Izuku saw the strange softness come over Todoroki's face when Katsuki opened his mouth again.

“Say hi to her for me.”

Todoroki nodded faintly, almost cracking a smile as he turned to leave, and Izuku stepped forward when the young man was out of sight.

“It went okay, then?” he asked with a little smile.

“Shut up.”

“You two would make good friends. You should talk to him more.”

“I said shut up, don't start this shit. I'm never going to be friends with the fuckin' halfie bastard. Never. Period.”

“Okay, okay,” Izuku nodded, reaching for medal stick out of his blazer pocket. “Do you want me to put it in my bag?” Or do you want to wear it a bit longer?”

“Bag,” Katsuki agreed, without a moment of thought. “You got room for my new gym uniform too?”

“Yeah!”

He shoved the plastic bag from under his arm into Izuku's hands, letting him examine it for a moment as they walked, then tucked it into his bag with the rest of his belongings. As they neared the outside doors, he switched his blazer for the baggy hoodie, pulling the hood up to cover his hair. Izuku didn't say a word, but he took the blazer and folded it away nicely, rummaging through the outer pocket of his backpack and handing Katsuki a paper package before he finally pulled the bag onto his back. Katsuki didn't question it, just tore it open and pulled the mask on, covering his nose and mouth like he'd just caught a cold. Unless anyone looked at his eyes, they'd never know he was the boy who just won the sports festival and received his medal with- No. Bury that thought.

“I promised you Katsudon for winning,” Izuku reminded him. “Let's go to the place near home?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki agreed, his voice muffled by the slightest amount, just enough to sound out of place to Izuku's ears. “You wanna walk a bit? Avoid the crowded station?”

“That sounds good. Lead the way, I'll follow.”

“As always.”

Izuku smiled to himself, falling two steps behind as they turned away from the station they'd arrived at, the station everyone else was crowding toward.

“Hey Kacchan?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you know I'm really proud of you.”

“Shut up, nerd.”

[Chapter 4]