ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴜꜱ | Izuku M. & Katsuki B.

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So I accidentally published my old draft instead of the completed oneshot I wrote weeks ago ;-; Sorry for the gaps and half sentences that were clearly left as unended thoughts. Hope you guys like it  <3

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"Deku?"

Katsuki stares at what he assumes is a cruel trick of the universe. Because the boy he sees in front of him, who is supposed to be dead, is wider than him?

Yet, despite being corded in thick muscle, Izuku trembles just as he used to.

"Hi, Kacchan," his voice shakes, his boyish freckles popping out of his cheeks even with his angled jawline.

That is when Katsuki realizes that the boy in front of him is very much real. And that he was made a fool of once again.

"What the hell, Deku?!" Katsuki hollers, "I thought you were dead!"

Izuku flinches and takes a step back.

Katsuki's voice. The tone, the angry inflection, the way it snaps and crackles like an oncoming explosion, all of it, takes Izuku back to middle school.

It reminds him of bruised ribs and scorched uniforms. It reminds him of burned notebooks and swan dives.

It reminds him of how Katsuki would yell, "Deku! I told you so many times to move out of the way." And then a whisper with a scalding hand on his shoulder. "You don't want me to hurt you, right?"

And Izuku is launched back to the present with this Katsuki, who is vibrating in rage.

"I'm sorry," Izuku squeaks. He takes another step back.

At this point, Katsuki finally notices how Izuku shrinks within himself. He finally can see the visible fear with his ducked head and shuddering curls hiding his eyes—possibly even hiding Izuku's tears.

It takes every fiber in his being to not demand the truth.

What does help is the reality of their truths. The truth of how Izuku is afraid of him. The truth of how Katsuki never treated him with basic respect. The truth of how Izuku doesn't owe Katsuki shit.

No one would feel the need to explain their bully anyway.

Katsuki knows. Effin' All Might, he knows.

So he says with gritted teeth, "It's whatever," and stomps to the kitchen.

He needs to organize his thoughts. He also needs to cook dinner for the class.

What's better than to do it all right now while isolating himself from the swarm around Izuku's return?

He pulls out the rice cooker from the cupboard, rinses the inner pot before snatching the rice and the measuring cup from another cupboard.

Izuku was taken during the raid at USJ. He was taken when he tried to save All Might—the greatest hero fallen to his knees thanks to a bioengineered puppet.

Katsuki scoops out the rice angrily, levels it at the rim of the measuring cup slowly, and dumps it into a bowl. He repeats it four times.

Two months later, his corpse was found in a dark alley, his arms dismembered and legs twisted in the wrong ways. Clearly that was a fake to hide himself and gain strength with no pressure from the villains lurking about—all a precaution so Izuku didn't need to look over his shoulder, or tiptoe around, when forging himself into the brick wall he's become.

He goes to the fridge, rummaging through the veggies. Before he closes it though, he decides to take out the pork cutlets from the freezer too. He, unceremoniously, throws them on the counter, roughly organizing them in a certain way he knows best.