Soul-mates

For Akabane_Kayo one of the winners of my giveaway a few months ago (oops) that was meant to be shorter but I got carried away, lol. Enjoy!

cw: death kinda?? Mentions of a death that happened in the past, anyway.

─────

It was by far the biggest apartment Izuku had seen in his search, and only five minutes from the agency he’d just signed on with – it was like a dream come true. He would never have expected to find somewhere so bright and airy and clean in their search, not after the first few old, run-down places the real estate agent had shown him. The floors were strong, made of polished wooden boards, and the walls were thicker than he thought he’d seen before in his life.  

“You’re sure this place is in my budget?” he asked, as he looked through a kitchen that had to be recently renovated, everything still shiny and new.

“It is!” the lady confirmed, nodding eagerly. “They uh, they’ve had trouble finding a new tenant, so the price has been reduced a little from what they’d originally been asking.”

“Really? I wonder why they’re having trouble,” he mused. “It’s beautiful, I thought there would be a queue stretching down the street!”

He couldn’t help but notice the way she twitched slightly at the words, her smile faltering just a little, and he felt his own lips tightening in response.

“Is this place a front for a villain group or something?”

“What? No! It’s owned by a very sweet older couple, he helped build it a few years ago!”

“Is it on a major flight path?”

“No, no planes anywhere nearby!”

“Then what’s wrong with it?”

The lady from the agency went white as a sheet in response, but before she could open her mouth, a crash thundered through the apartment. Green lightning flashed as Izuku rushed into the bedroom, ready to put away whatever villain or petty burglar had conveniently sneaked into the building, but all he found waiting for him was a bed that was slightly askew since he last saw it, an end table flipped over like someone had thrown it in a fit of rage.

“Is this place haunted?” he joked, when the footsteps hurried to catch up.  

She didn’t answer, and Izuku’s eyes widened as he turned, finding her sheepish and silent in the hall behind him.

“Oh,” he said flatly. “It is.”

Izuku was torn beyond belief. He wasn’t terrified of ghosts – he’d never really thought about them outside the context of horror movies, honestly – and he was far more broke than he was scared. He wasn’t going to find another apartment nearly as gorgeous in his price range, let alone so close to work and transportation.  

Besides, he could just deal with it until he moved up the ranks, then find somewhere else that cost a little more, right? Surely he could put up with it for a few months.

With a big smile on his face, they returned to the living room, and the agent stared at him in disbelief as he picked up a pen.

As he signed the documents, he heard a sound from the next room, pausing for a moment to look up. If he hadn’t known better, he might have called it a cackle.  

Nah, his brain was definitely just playing tricks on him.

─────

As Izuku started moving his belongings into the apartment, he started to get a handle on what this “ghost” was really like. He set his first boxes down in the corner of the living room, ready to unpack at his leisure, but when he returned with the next pile, they were gone. He peeked into the bedroom, cracking a smile when he found them neatly stacked – neater than he’d left them, honestly – against the wardrobe door.

So that was its game, huh? Inconvenient little pranks to entertain itself in the afterlife. Izuku wasn’t sure he could blame it.

He put down his newest load, leaning them against the side of the couch that the movers had set up earlier – the couch must have been too heavy for one ghost, Izuku supposed, or else he’d likely have found it in the bathtub.

When he returned with his suitcase of clothing, the boxes were gone once more, this time hidden around the corner in the kitchen.  

Smiling to himself again, Izuku put his suitcase in the corner of the bathroom, then collected his boxes from the kitchen and moved them to the bedroom. Every box was labelled in his messy scrawl that could hardly be called “handwriting”, he knew exactly where each of them belonged, but hey, if the ghost was having fun, he may as well play – right?

He took his time returning to the little truck outside, pulling his last pile of boxes out of the back and waving to the driver as he pulled away, then carting them up to the hallway outside his new home. He could hear shuffling inside, boxes sliding against the shiny wood, so he waited a moment longer before he pushed the front door open. The noises halted immediately, and Izuku carted his “bathroom” box through to the bedroom, setting it down and humming when he found another new box in the pile.  

Much to his delight, the top was labelled “bedroom”, and had only minutes ago sat in the corner of his kitchen. He paused to unpack it, pulling out his linens and his favourite duvet to make up the bed, ignoring the shuffles that resumed at the other end of the apartment.  

Soon enough, with a little help from a ghost who apparently couldn’t read his writing, everything was in its rightful place – packed away into cupboards and drawers that he might need to consider getting locks for.

His last box was perhaps the most precious to him, the only one he’d considered leaving packed up when the ghost antics began, but he knew that was just asking for trouble – one box left taped up in the corner of his room was just begging for the ghost to mess with it. Instead he carefully slit it open, just like the others, and turned to the bookshelf that was thankfully screwed to the wall.

With a fondness he couldn’t begin to explain, Izuku began unloading his merch, setting it up neatly on the shelves. Heavier things went on the bottom, where they wouldn’t have far to go in the event that the ghost decided to play games with them, and his plushies went at the top, where they wouldn’t hurt if they were thrown at him from across the room. He hadn’t seen any sign of violence from the ghost, not so far, but considering there had been three people driven to move out, he wasn’t going to get complacent just yet.

When everything was set up perfectly, all his happy little All Mights grinning out at him, Izuku decided it was time for a shower. He’d had a long day, with patrols and training sessions with the higher-up heroes of the agency, followed by the move-in the moment he got off work. Nothing sounded better than a hot bath.

He hunted down the plug for the bath, setting it running nice and hot, and while he waited for it to fill, he stripped off his sweaty clothes. He hadn’t expected to get so hot just walking up and down a few flights of stairs, but he supposed it was a good little burst of cardio to throw into his day – his boss would be proud.

Clad only in his boxers, Izuku remembered the pile of towels that hadn’t yet made it to the linen closet, hurrying back to the living room to grab one while the bath filled. To his surprise, he found a slightly cloudy figure standing in the corner of the room, staring at the figures and toys he’d so lovingly set out. He expected things to start flying, expected to see things break, but instead the slim, pale figure just stood and looked.

“Do you like All Might too?” he spoke up, smiling to himself. “He’s my favourite hero.”

The figure disappeared again instantly, without turning around or saying a word, but still Izuku continued to smile.

If the ghost was an All Might fan, it might not be so bad after all.

─────

Izuku was exhausted. He’d spent all day at the agency, running back and forth between different meetings and trainings, picking up every patrol that the more experienced heroes  had deigned to allow him to tag along on, even staying long past his scheduled finish time just for the sake of helping out. He was finally a real hero, at a real agency, and he didn’t want to waste a single moment of it.

That meant, however, getting some cranky and tired, ready to just collapse into bed, even though he still needed to eat and clean and occasionally call his friends or mother.  

By the end of his first week, he could barely walk. He stumbled home from the agency, stood in an old elevator rather than risk trying the stairs, and finally, collapsed face-first onto his living room sofa.  

A quiet huff came from the doorway, but when Izuku looked up, there was nothing there. He should have expected that, honestly – in his week so far, he’d only seen the ghost twice. The rest had just been occasional noises from the next room, things moved out of place, his phone hidden in the back of a closet or his socks all mysteriously matched up with the wrong partner.  

His second encounter had been late one night, when he’d stumbled out to the kitchen for a glass of water and nearly wet himself at the fright the ghost gave him. He was just kind of standing there, staring out the kitchen windows with his arms leaning on the counter top. Izuku had paused for a moment to look, to take in the spiky blond hair and the dark clothing, the eyes that might once have been fiercely red, though it was hard to tell with how faded out his form was. He didn’t move, didn’t throw anything, didn’t even seem to notice Izuku was there for a long while.

“Sorry, excuse me,” Izuku had muttered awkwardly, surprised to see the ghost jump too. “I just need water, sorry.”

The ghost had stepped aside and faded out of sight, leaving Izuku to sigh over the sink as he filled his glass.  

“You know, I don’t mind if you hang out,” he’d said to the air, wondering if the ghost was still nearby to hear it. “I guess I’m kind of invading your space, huh? Sorry about that. But we can share if you want, if you let me know what you want from me and stuff.”

No one had answered, but over the few days since, he’d noticed a distinct reduction in things being tipped over or taps been left running in the bathroom. That was an improvement.

Now it was just the socks, and Izuku didn’t really mind wearing odd socks just to spite him.

But as it was, Izuku returned shattered at the end of the week, collapsing still dressed in his dirty, bloody costume, belongings spilling out of his bag where he’d dumped it on the floor. The huff, though he didn’t catch sight of the ghost, was familiar – exasperated and a little condescending, always around for him to catch when he burned his dinner or shrunk his laundry. At least someone was getting a kick out of Izuku’s incompetence.

Izuku looked up just in time to see a notebook aimed his way, grumbling as he grabbed it out of the air to save his tired face from paper cuts. Pens were being flung his direction before he could even set the book down, and Izuku pouted as he held the book up as a shield over his head.

“Not now, Ghost-chan,” he whined. “I’m tired!”

“It’s Katsuki, asshole.”

Izuku looked up to see the familiar figure sitting on his carpet, leaning against the wall with Izuku’s bag in his lap. He couldn’t really fault the ghost – Katsuki – for the mess, he was pretty sure it had all spilled before he put his ghost-hands on it.

“Not now, Kacchan,” he amended, sighing as he dropped his face to the cushions again. “We can play tomorrow, okay? I just need one night off.”

Izuku wasn’t sure if Katsuki had replied, but if he had, Izuku hadn’t heard it. He’d been out like a light the moment his eyes found darkness, only waking hours later when his phone buzzed at him to be charged.

When he looked up, the floor was cleaned of his clutter – everything packed back into his bag, from the look of it, where it sat next to the door with his bright red shoes, neatly placed side by side.  

“Did you clean up after me?” Izuku asked, yawning. “Kacchan that’s so sweet of you.”

As he dragged himself up to sitting, he found a blanket draped messily over his legs, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. A ghost that had apparently driven away previous tenants, and had put off other prospective ones enough to decline the best deal in the world, had covered him with a blanket after a long day. Maybe every apartment should come with a resident ghost.

Water running in the bathroom, though, set him on edge again – Katsuki had already tried to flood the place at least six times since he’d arrived. He hauled himself up, hurrying into the bathroom to check, arriving just in time to see Katsuki fade into thin air again. His jaw dropped when he found the hot bath waiting for him, deep enough to sink into and soothe his aching muscles, and his surprise and concern quickly melted away into another smile.

“Thank you, Kacchan!” he called brightly. “Wherever you went, I appreciate it!”

As he stripped off his all-but-destroyed costume to sink into the tub, a thinner figure turned away in a hurry, slipping from the room.

Katsuki wondered when the last time he’d felt so flushed was.

─────

It was finally Izuku’s day off, and as much as he loved his new job, he kind of needed the rest. As much as he’d have loved to just work non-stop and save people every hour of every day, he was still human, and sometimes that meant a day at home to sleep in and let his muscles recover.

He finally crawled out of bed after ten, yawning as he trudged through to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl. Rather than grab the bottle of milk from his fridge, he opened his freezer, hunting down a tub of marshmallow ice-cream he’d bought on a whim earlier in the week. Two huge scoops went into his bowl, then he covered it with his favourite sugary cereal, smiling to himself at his concoction. His mother had always hated the habit, only allowed it on special occasions, but even as an adult Izuku didn’t understand – what was so different about having ice-cream with his cereal rather than milk? They were practically the same thing, after all.

He switched on the television, collapsing onto the couch with his fluffy All Might blanket from the night prior, and flicked through channels until he came across a familiar news story.

“Stupid nerd,” he heard behind him, whirling around to see a ghostly face glaring at him from the doorway. “What the hell are you eating? You come home broken and exhausted, make a mess of my home, then have the nerve to eat ice-cream for breakfast? You may as well just-”

He cut his sentence short, eyes widening, and Izuku glanced back to see his own face on the screen, green hair tangled beyond belief and blood trailing down his chin, but fighting all the same.

“Sorry, was just checking the news,” Izuku mumbled, a little embarrassed by the way Katsuki stared. “Um, I guess there were cameras there. I hadn’t noticed.”

Katsuki didn’t answer, still watching in silence as Izuku fought, green sparks flying around him as he moved. Izuku wondered if this was why Katsuki had been so nice the night before – he looked pretty beaten up on the tv, he must have been a nightmare in real life.

Slowly, Katsuki rounded the couch, sitting down on the far edge, and Izuku couldn’t help but smile again. Had Katsuki forgotten he was still visible?

“Do you like heroes too?” He asked after a moment. “You looked at my merch a lot, too.”

“I did,” Katsuki admitted.

“Not anymore?”

Katsuki didn’t move, his gaze never leaving the screen, but Izuku cringed when the words fell from his pale lips.

“Not really any point in having hobbies when you’re dead.”

So he did know, then. A small part of Izuku had wondered if maybe Katsuki didn’t realise.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I can’t even imagine.”

“Yeah, well, not like I can do anything about it.”

Izuku paused, fingers curling and spreading and rubbing together as he thought, fidgeting endlessly in his lap.

“I loved heroes as a kid. All Might especially, but all of them were amazing. I mean, I still love them! Of course! But as a kid I loved them so much that it made me want to be one. So it’s kind of surreal to actually get there, you know?”

“Me too.”

The room fell silent, Izuku staring wide-eyed at the translucent body beside him, still watching the news determinedly.  

“You wanted to be a hero?” Izuku clarified.  

“Yeah.”

“That’s so cool! We would have been such good friends!”

“Whatever,” Katsuki snorted. “Every kid wants to be a hero, it’s nothing special.”

“Nuh-uh! It means you’re a good person! You wanted to help people!”

“I wanted to beat the shit out of bad guys.”

“That’s fun too!”

To Izuku’s disbelief, Katsuki smiled, his pale lips quirking up at the corners.

“It’s been a lot of hard work,” Izuku added. “I can’t really believe I made it, but I’m super happy I got the opportunity, even if it doesn’t end up lasting long.”

The smile was gone as quickly as it came, Katsuki’s eyes dropping to the carpet, and Izuku mentally kicked himself for his stupidity.

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s whatever,” Katsuki grumbled. “Not like I haven’t had time to get used to it.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Izuku sank into the cushions, gnawing on his lower lip, but Katsuki didn’t disappear, didn’t fade into the wind again. Instead he just sat, watching all the fights they recapped from the week prior, his expression never changing.

When the program gave way to boring news and the weather, Katsuki stood up, grabbing a basket of dirty laundry from the corner and upending it over Izuku’s head. Izuku squawked at him, trying like an idiot to shove him away fruitlessly, settling for a pout as Katsuki smirked down at him.

“No one likes a stinky hero,” he said firmly, dumping the basket in Izuku’s lap. “Do your damn housework, nerd.”

“You could have just asked.”

To his surprise, Katsuki still didn’t disappear. For the first time, he sat back on the couch, completely visible as Izuku gathered up his clothes with a sigh.  

In fairness, Katsuki was right, he really did need to clean the place up. His friends were coming over for a small house-warming party later in the afternoon, and he figured he probably shouldn’t have dirty underwear and mismatched socks lying around when they arrived. He’d warned them all about Katsuki’s antics, updating them every day on the ghost-news they found so fascinating, and some of them were even eager to see him in action.  

Not that he’d tell Katsuki that, no need to add fuel to the fire.

Then again, with how stubborn he was, maybe Katsuki would just refuse to give them what he wanted. He’d have to keep that one in mind to test.

It took a couple of hours, but finally the apartment was spotless, and Katsuki looked him in the eye for the first time when he sat back down.

“Better?” he asked with a smile. “No more stinky laundry.”

“Fuckin’ finally.”

“You know, it would be easier to keep the place clean if you didn’t throw stuff all the time.”

“I wouldn’t have shit to throw if you didn’t leave it lying around.”

“Is that what it’s about?” Izuku asked, eyes widening. “You just don’t like the mess?”

“Shut up.”

“Kacchan, that’s so petty.”

“Shut up.”

Katsuki pouted, and Izuku couldn’t hold back a giggle, clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle it.

“So what, the people here before me were slobs? Is that why you scared them away?”

“It’s my apartment,” Katsuki glared. “I didn’t ask to share my damn home with gross, noisy, shitty extras.”

“Well, yeah, but you’re…”

“Dead? No shit, nerd. Doesn’t make it better. They have the option of leaving.”

“You can’t?”

“Think I’d still be here if I could just walk out the door? Idiot.”

“Sorry.”

“And stop with the stupid apologies!” Katsuki demanded. “It’s nothing but I’m sorry with you, fuck!”

“I don’t know what else to say! I’ve never met a ghost before, okay?!”

“I didn’t ask to be a damn ghost!”

“I know that!”

Katsuki huffed, scowling at Izuku, but Izuku just frowned right back, folding his arms across his chest.

“You get it to yourself most of the time anyway,” Izuku pointed out. “I just need a little patience when I’m sleeping and like, one day a week when I’m off!”

“I’ve been nice, you piece of shit, don’t get all high and mighty with me! I could have driven your ass out on day one if I wanted to!”

“Then why didn’t you?!”

Izuku felt like they were the last words he possessed, like his ability to form speech ceased to exist the moment they came out, as he watched Katsuki’s cheeks turn pink.  

“Since when do ghosts blush?” he choked out.

Katsuki vanished.

─────

Katsuki still hadn’t shown up again when Ochako arrived, ringing the doorbell twice while Izuku hurried to throw some nicer clothes on. She threw her arms around him when he pulled it open, hugging him tight, and Izuku couldn’t help but laugh as he returned the gesture.

“I missed you!” she grinned. “It’s so weird to not see you every day!”

“I know!” Izuku lamented, pouting a little. “I feel so lonely at work, everyone is so much older than me!”

“But they’re such awesome heroes, it must be so cool!”

“It is! I just miss having friends surrounding me all the time! Other than, you know, by text and stuff. Anyway, come in! Come look at my new apartment!”

“The building is gorgeous, I can see why a little haunting didn’t turn you off!”

“Kacchan is fine,” Izuku grinned. “He’s just bored, we’re okay!”

He half-expected Katsuki to show up and refute the statement, to argue or at least throw something, but the apartment stayed still and silent around them. Nothing crashed, no water poured, it was like an ordinary, un-haunted apartment that everyone else lived in.

The living room slowly filled with people, Tenya and Shouto arriving maybe ten minutes after Ochako, and Tsuyu just a little more after that. They even brought along plates of snacks, and Izuku felt himself tear up as they set them out on his coffee table, sharing wide smiles and just love that he hadn’t realised he’d missed. They’d spent a month after graduation getting their new positions lined up, had spent every other day hanging out as they visited prospective agencies for interviews, but the past week had been the first time they’d really been apart. He hadn’t expected it to feel so bittersweet, meeting up with them again, knowing it might be weeks or even months until they managed to line up their time off again.

“So where’s this ghost?” Shouto asked, late in the night as he slurped soba noodles. “You keep talking about it, I don’t see anything.”

“Is he with us now?” Tenya asked in a hushed voice, leaning in closer. “Izuku, are you seeing… Him?”

“I’m not insane,” Izuku assured Tenya quickly. “He’s not here, he disappeared earlier and hasn’t come back. He could be watching, though, he does that sometimes.”

“How do you know?”

“I hear him laugh at me.”

Ochako clapped her hands over her mouth, failing to hold back her laughter, and Izuku blushed bright red.

“I know it sounds silly, but I’m serious!” he whined, pouting at her before he looked back toward the hallway. “Hey, Kacchan! If you wanna come hang out, you can! No one will mind!”

Nothing came, no answer or cloudy figure, not even a condescending snort of “why would I want to hang out with you nerds?” and Izuku found it more eerie than the actual haunting. He was on edge the entire evening, waiting for something to unexpectedly hit him in the head, or the kitchen to clang with falling pots.

Nothing.

Even as he bid goodbye to his friends, exchanging hugs and handshakes and bows, the apartment behind him just remained silent.

He didn’t like it.

Somehow, he’d gotten so used to the ghost being there, hanging around to insult him or snort at him. After their morning of actually talking – to a ghost, Izuku reminded himself, because holy shit – he felt weirdly lonely without Katsuki there.

It wasn’t until he returned to the bedroom, finding a single pillow misplaced, that he could even assure himself it wasn’t all a dream, he hadn’t just imagined it. Katsuki had to have gotten annoyed at some point in the night, maybe when Izuku was telling his friends about him being an All Might fan, and thrown it across the room while they laughed over the sound.  

At least he knew Katsuki was still around.

He supposed he shouldn’t wish for that, though. The world wasn’t teeming with ghosts, so obviously most of them went somewhere else – he should probably be hoping Katsuki was gone away with them, shouldn’t he?

When the pillow twitched, Izuku only caught a glimpse out the corner of his eye. He paused, waiting, and sure enough it twitched once more.

“Kacchan?” he asked, turning to face the empty corner. “Have you been in here all night?”

There was no answer, but Izuku smiled all the same.

“Thank you for not tormenting my friends, that was really nice of you.”

“Whatever,” the familiar voice grumbled. “Like I wanna hang out with those shitty extras, you dumb nerd.”

“Kacchan, are you jealous?” Izuku asked, not even believing the words as he said them.

“Fuckin’ of course not, asshole! Go away you Deku.”

Giving in, Izuku didn’t bother to push it further, changing into his warm pyjamas instead and crawling in under his blankets. They were so soft and warm around him, a welcome comfort at the end of a long day, and the cosiness only compounded his happiness from the night spent with friends.  

The room was quiet, only the swish of blankets rustling a little as he got settled, but still his eyes remained cracked, watching the pillow corner a little longer before they sank closed.

He had almost drifted off when he finally heard the sound, a tiny grumble of someone muttering to themselves, and without thinking, Izuku pulled back the blankets in front of him.

“It’s cold,” he explained. “You can come stay with me, if you want.”

Katsuki didn’t answer, but the mattress shifted a little, and Izuku helped pull the blankets back up when he felt them move slightly.  

When Izuku opened his eyes, there was a face lying before him, far more colour in it than he was used to seeing – flushed cheeks, almost a normal colour but for their transparency, and fiery eyes that he’d always known were meant to be bright.

Izuku’s lips stretched into a smile, and his eyes fell closed once more.

─────

“I said stir it, you idiot! It’s gonna stick! Move the damn spatula!”

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it!” Izuku whined, quickly swiping across the bottom of the pot to make sure everything was loose. “It’s fine, Kacchan! It’s not burning!”

“Because I made you stir it, asshole!”

Izuku huffed, but a smile fought its way out all the same when he glanced back, finding the pale face watching over him carefully. They’d come to a peaceful truce over the weeks they’d spent together, and Izuku found he kind of liked having someone to come home to, even if his someone was a cranky teenage ghost. He’d seen Katsuki enough times now to make a guess at his age, putting him a couple of years younger than Izuku himself, still stuck at the end of his teen-angst before he could quite hit adulthood.

“I’m twenty, asshole!” Katsuki huffed, and Izuku blushed as he clamped his mouth shut. “Stop with the damn muttering and stir.”

“Just a cranky guy, then,” Izuku mumbled, wincing when a wooden spoon hit him in the back of the head. “Stop throwing things!”

“Make me!”

“Have you always been like this, or does being dead make you perpetually impatient and grumpy?”

“I’m worse to the ugly ones.”

Izuku laughed brightly, his complaints forgotten in a heartbeat.

“What, so I’m cute?”

Katsuki’s jaw dropped, finally realising the words that had slipped out, and Izuku expected a stream of fury, bracing himself for impact. Instead, Katsuki vanished instantly, and Izuku whined wordlessly.

“I know you’re there, Kacchan!” he complained. “I figured out the invisibility thing weeks ago!”

Katsuki refused to answer, didn’t move or speak or even throw anything, and Izuku huffed as he stepped away from the pot.

“I’m gonna let it burn if you don’t come back,” he threatened, eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s gonna stick, Kacchan.”

Katsuki still didn’t respond, but Izuku just waited, letting the pot bubble at his side. He knew it didn’t have long left, knew he was going to end up buying a new pot if he didn’t cave soon, but still he waited.

Just as he was starting to think Katsuki had left after all, and oven mitt hit him square in the face, and Izuku laughed as he fumbled for the spatula.

“Asshole,” Katsuki grumbled, leaning back against the cupboards with his face still pink. “Don’t waste all my damn work.”

“Good to see you again, Kacchan!”

He tipped the curry into a bowl, inhaling deeply as he carried it over to the table, relishing the smell of fresh meat and spices. Katsuki sat down opposite him, eyebrows low, and Izuku waited patiently for him to find his words.

“I want a spoonful,” he said finally. “Give me some.”

Izuku didn’t question it, didn’t even hesitate, just stood up again to retrieve another spoon from the drawer.

“You want a bowl?”

“Can’t do shit with bowls, gimme a spoon.”

Izuku scooped out a generous bite, holding it out across the table, and to his surprise, Katsuki’s hand took it from him easily. He’d learned over the weeks that he couldn’t actually touch Katsuki, that he could even walk through him if he wanted to, so to see him take a spoon right out of his hand was both fascinating and a little terrifying.

Katsuki stuck it in his mouth, only partially obscured by his body, but the food stayed on the spoon, never moved.

“Can you eat?” Izuku asked awkwardly, when the silence grew a little too long. “Like, does it go anywhere?”

“Nah,” Katsuki shrugged, tongue darting out to run across a chunk of potato before he quietly added: “I can kinda taste it, though.”

“I’ll share with you,” Izuku promised, watching Katsuki’s head dart up. “Anything you want, I’ll give you some to taste. Just tell me you want some, okay?”

Katsuki nodded, and Izuku returned to his bowl, only the faint hum of an electric heater keeping the room from being silent.

“So, um, h-how did you… Die?” Izuku stumbled, when he’d swallowed his last mouthful, setting down his empty spoon. “Can I ask that? Is it okay?”

“Skydiving,” Katsuki answered flatly. “Parachute broke.”

Izuku gasped, jaw falling open on words that wouldn’t come, tearing up a little as he imagined the terror, the horror. Katsuki had spent his last moments hurtling toward the earth with nothing to slow or break his fall – Izuku couldn’t imagine a worse way to go, honestly.

“That must have been so terrible!” he said finally, lips trembling. “Kacchan, you poor thing! Oh my gosh!”

Through watery eyes, Izuku saw a lip twitch, and then Katsuki was snickering to himself. Izuku’s tears stopped even quicker than they’d come.

“You’re bullshitting me,” he sighed. “I should have known.”

Katsuki shrugged it off, taking one last lick of curry before he dumped the spoon in Izuku’s bowl to be washed, and Izuku cracked the faintest of smiles.

He didn’t bother asking for the real answer.

─────

Katsuki jumped up when the door finally opened, switching off the TV in a hurry and watching as Izuku limped inside. He was pretty sure Izuku hadn’t worked out yet that he’d figured out the television, he didn’t need the nerd knowing that he watched all his fights as they happened.  

He considered going incognito when Izuku’s eyes met his, considered hovering invisibly rather than follow the nerd like a lost puppy, but he knew his face had betrayed him the moment Izuku cracked a smile.

“I’m okay,” Izuku assured him. “Just a few scratches.”

Katsuki followed him to the bathroom, watching as he stripped off his ruined costume and tossed it into a corner, reaching for a facecloth to start cleaning his wounds. He turned the shower on, hosing off the blood and dirt first, and Katsuki pulled a face when he saw the deep gash down Izuku’s shin.  

“It’s fine,” Izuku reiterated, smiling when Katsuki took a step closer. “I’ll clean it up and bandage it, and by morning it’ll be no big deal.”

Katsuki still didn’t trust himself to speak, instead reaching for one of the old towels he’d seen Izuku mop up blood with in the past, holding it out silently for Izuku to dry off his leg. Izuku accepted with a smile, just like he did everything else in his life – Katsuki wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the guy sad, other than when he told dumb stories about his death and caught the nerd off-guard – he’d claimed everything from swimming with sharks to wrestling a wild bear, and Izuku still seemed to believe him every time.  

“Take better care of yourself,” Katsuki insisted, as Izuku dabbed antiseptic on his wounds.

“I try, Kacchan, but I have to save people!”

Katsuki handed him a bandage, a hint of warmth filling him when Izuku’s hand passed through his.  

“You can’t be a hero if you’re dead,” Katsuki pointed out, looking away. “I would know.”

“I’m sorry Kacchan,” Izuku answered, his face falling. “It must be hard.”

“I’m used to it. Just take some damn care of yourself.”

“I will, I promise.”

He hovered the entire time Izuku cleaned himself up, eyeing every scar on his arms and torso, every freckle on his shoulders and face, even stepped closer to make sure every speck of blood was rinsed from his green curls.  

Finally, Izuku stood up again, wrapping himself in the fluffy towel Katsuki offered him, and Katsuki stayed at his heels as he moved to the bedroom.

“It’s nice to know you care,” Izuku teased, as he sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled his pyjamas on. “Thanks for the help, Kacchan.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki huffed. “Just get in bed and rest, idiot. I’ll bring you water.”

“Yeah?” Izuku asked, face lighting up.

“Yeah.”

He tucked himself in obediently, and when Katsuki was satisfied that he wasn’t going anywhere, he gave a quick nod. He was a little embarrassed by all the attention he was suddenly giving the nerd, but he’d been caught by surprise when he saw the intense fight, so reminiscent of All Might’s glory days – except, he hated to admit, he suspected Izuku was better than All Might had been. Even as a jaded dead dude, Katsuki couldn’t help but respect him a little.  

As a hero, of course. Nothing else.

He checked the front door was locked on his way through, glancing at each window as he passed too, then rummaged through the kitchen cupboards for something to take back with him. There was no way Izuku was going to be cooking dinner, he’d be out like a light in ten minutes, but Katsuki was determined to at least get something in his stomach first.  

He finally settled on a sandwich – or, well, a plate of ingredients for a sandwich. He couldn’t handle the fiddly plastic on those damn resealable bags of ham and cheese, stupid ghost hands. He dumped the packages and a loaf of bread on the plate instead, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, and carefully carted them back down the hallway to the bedroom.

Izuku lit up when he saw, ignoring Katsuki’s pout in favour of praising him and thanking him repeatedly, tearing up a little when Katsuki set the plate in his lap.

“I’m starving, how did you know?”

“Kinda obvious,” Katsuki huffed, turning away. “Didn’t wanna make the shit for you, do it yourself.”

“I don’t mind making it! Thank you, Kacchan!”

“Whatever.”

His pout immediately ceased when Izuku tore off a piece for him, fluffy bread laden with nice meat and cheese, and tucked it into Katsuki’s hand without a word. As he took a bite of his slightly-smaller sandwich, Katsuki sat down on the edge of the bed beside him, holding his own piece up to his lips to taste.  

He’d kind of forgotten how good food was, until Izuku had moved in.

“I would have cooked something proper,” Katsuki said quietly. “But last time I tried, the stupid old oven wouldn’t do what I wanted and ended up starting a fire.”

Izuku grinned, and Katsuki couldn’t help but smile back faintly, covering it with his bite of sandwich in a hurry.

“Did you like cooking? Before?”

“When I was alive? Yeah. I did. Can’t really do it anymore, obviously.”

“Next time I have a day off, you can try again if you want! I’ll supervise, so if it doesn’t work or if you can’t pick something up, I can help!”

“I’ll stick with yelling at you,” Katsuki shrugged, looking away. “I don’t need any more fires in my life.”

“Okay,” Izuku giggled, and Katsuki blushed again at the sound. “You can tell me what to make, then!”

“Okay,” Katsuki agreed, standing up and retrieving the food packets to return to the fridge. “Rest.”

“I am! Will Kacchan come rest with me?”

“I guess,” Katsuki huffed. “In a minute.”

“Okay!”

He refused to admit how quickly he made his trip to the kitchen, throwing the food back in the fridge and hurrying back to Izuku’s side. The freckled face lit up again when he returned, so different from anyone else he’d seen since, and he walked around to sit on his own side of the bed.

“Rest,” he repeated, letting Izuku help to tuck him into the blankets. “I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” Izuku smiled softly, sliding down to curl up with his pillow. “I like knowing you’re here with me.”

“Ain’t like I’ve got anywhere else to be,” Katsuki huffed. “It’s fine, I’m here.”

─────

Izuku couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he burst through the door, a thick envelope in his hand filled to bursting with important documents. Katsuki was waiting on the couch, as always, but when he looked up and saw Izuku’s smile, he turned the TV off silently.

“I’m home!” he announced, kicking his shoes off and quickly straightening them up to avoid Katsuki’s wrath.  

“You’re late.”

“Had a meeting!” Izuku explained, practically bouncing across the room in his excitement. “Look what I’ve got!”

“What is it?” Katsuki asked warily, eyeing the thick stack of papers Izuku pulled from the envelope. “You get promoted or some shit?”

“Nope!”

Izuku held the papers out for him to read, and Katsuki frowned as he skimmed the words, eyebrows knitting together.

“I bought it!” he explained, delighted with himself and clearly waiting for Katsuki to be the same. “This is the deed to this apartment!”

“You bought the apartment?”

“Yeah! No more renting! Now I can live here forever!”

Katsuki froze, eyes slowly raking up to Izuku’s face, lit up with a joy he would never understand.

“Forever is a long time,” he said quietly, staring at the pages of official documentation labelling the apartment as officially Izuku’s, the way it had once been Katsuki’s. “Take it from me, nerd.”

Izuku only smiled wider, taking a step closer and letting his hand brush against Katsuki’s. He filled with warmth in a way nothing else caused, no matter how much he tried, and for a moment he let his hand linger.

“Yeah?” Izuku smiled, setting the documents aside.  

He leaned in, Katsuki’s eyes crossing as he watched, and then it was his lips that filled with warmth, his eyes quickly squeezing shut. Izuku giggled, pulling away again, and with his face burning bright red, Katsuki followed for more.

“Good,” Izuku laughed. “Just me and you. Forever.”