There were times where Shoto wasn't scary. Times where Shoto was the way Izuku remembered. Kind, quiet, childlike, but not scary. Never.
That was only back in high school. Where Izuku would wake up to cuddles and smiles and kisses smothered all over like a dog licking you with his wagged tail and a floppy grin.
He would laugh, his face flushed while Shoto would smile, his hair a mess with the red and white mixing the same way the sunrise would mix with the ocean as his head would hit the pillow, his arms never letting go of Izuku's waist.
They would do anything people see only in cliche movies. Technically inseparable, Shoto always asking where Izuku was when he went to run errands, and Izuku always checking up on Shoto with daily messages, spam calls when necessary, and notes slipped under the door.
But their all time personal favorite was every time before bed, Izuku would sing Shoto to sleep. Shoto's ears would feel blessed, the pure bliss of it all. The feeling he would get was indescribable, all he felt was being free.
He felt like he could fly to the moon and back.
It was a ritual, fluffy blankets and cold air coming from the AC as Shoto and Izuku would laugh and whisper under the covers like little children trying to stay awake while trying not to get caught.
The only source of light however, was a little night light in the corner of the room in the form of a star because Shoto was scared of the dark. Even more scared when Izuku wasn't next to him.
There were other times where Izuku and Shoto would go to this one forest, the huge trees covered the rays of sunlight while they had to be hand in hand to not fall or get lost. They would go sit on the grass and read books, the birds chirping while the breeze flipped the pages when hands weren't holding them.
Sometimes, Shoto would lie down on his bed after a long day at school and let Izuku ramble about anything and everything, his voice lowered to soft mutters while Shoto closed his eyes and concentrated on the words coming out of his mouth and the incoherent words he tried to fill in.
The silence would be replaced with mutters and whispers about hopes and dreams, promises made to never be broken and love that would never drown.
All of those broke. All of those drowned. And then died.
The laughter was replaced with cries.
The kisses and hugs were replaced with bruises and punches.
The mutters and whispers were replaced with yells and screams.
The nightlight was replaced with darkness and fear.
And the promises were pretty lies replaced with ugly truths. So sometimes, both Izuku and Shoto would go to sleep wishing they could go back to the night they first met.
~~~
Izuku remembered the first time he drowned.
Some days, he tried to fool himself. Fool himself into thinking that that memory was just his own imagination. That Shoto would never do such thing. He tried to get the image away from him like the plague—-Shoto's face as Izuku's eyes slowly blurred with dirty bath water.
It scarred him more than the cuts and bruises he got. It scarred him more than the beating he got before he was drowned, the image of his own blood pouring over like red paint.
He didn't remember the reason why, all he remembered was the moment.
"Idiot! You bastard!" Shoto yelled as he slammed his fists right in Izuku's stomach.
Izuku threw up blood, splattered the walls like ball paint.
Shoto huffed, slamming his foot on Izuku's head as he fell to the floor. "Those wild things, trying to take you away. And you let them! Imbecile!"
After a few more punches and kicks, he got dragged to the bathroom. And that's when it happened.
The ceiling looked so blurry as Izuku fought back, trying to use One for All. But the burning in his nose and the lack of oxygen plus the breezeblock that pressed down his chest made the green lightning lifeless.
He thought he was going to die.
'Does it come down to this? Is this how I'm going to die?'
There was so much carbon dioxide in the blood, and so little oxygen, that chemical sensors in the brain triggered an involuntary breath.
And once he took that breath, it went down his lungs and ended up waning transfer of oxygen into the blood. The clock ticked; half-conscious and enfeebled by oxygen depletion, his body was in no position to get up, especially when something is holding him down.
Hot lava. His nose, lungs, stomach. It was on fire. The burning sensation made it much much worse.
And all because he was drowning in his bathtub.
He heard sirens, screams and cries full of pain. But it didn't come from him.
He closed his eyes and accepted his fate of no longer having the life he worked so hard for. The life he so desperately tried to protect.
***
Abruptly, he woke up. Wheezing for air as his chest felt heavy, his breaths uneven and everything mushed. Not only that, but he didn't know where he was.
The marble floors that blinded him weren't there, the chandelier wasn't either. Nor was the freezing temperatures or the white hellness of it all. He whipped his head, getting up as his legs wobbled for balance.
Where was he.
He wasn't in Shoto's house.
Izuku needed to be in Shoto's house. He needed to be blinded by the marble floors, needed to fill the coldness of the room, needed to be surrounded by those four empty walls.
"Shoto! Get me out of here!" He yelled, his throat hurt from how loud he yelled, his heartbeat racing so fast and his sweat damping his clothes.
Katsuki stopped pacing, the yell startling him out of everything. It took him a second as well to recollect his emotions, and when he did he rushed to Izuku, holding his shoulders firmly.
"Hey! Why the hell are you screaming?! I'm right here, your in my house! Nothing is gonna hurt you." Izuku ignored what Katsuki had said, kicking and punching him repeatedly. Katsuki backed up, confused.
It was as if Izuku didn't recognize who Katsuki was.
"Don't touch me! Where 's Shoto? Where is he?! Did you hurt him?! I'll kill you if you do! Don't you dare touch him—-bring me to him! Where the fuck is he?!"
Katsuki couldn't believe it. "Do you not know what just happened? Did you just forget everything that just happened?! And you want him now?!"
Izuku ran out the room, his eyes flicking from wall to wall—-door to door as he looked everywhere for Shoto. "Where the hell is he?! What did you do to him you bastard?!"
Katsuki ran up to Izuku. Then, with all the willpower he had left, he smacked Izuku right across his face.
Izuku stumbled, falling to the floor. "Look at me." Izuku gritted his teeth, his whole face full of anger. "Look at me damn it!"
Izuku looked up, his whole soul on fire. "If you did something to him, I'll kill-" He stopped, his eyes going wide as his frown slowly left.
Katsuki's were softened, the anger and pride he would hold no longer present as the only thing that Izuku could see in him was kindness.
He extended his hand, his face flushed as he fought his ego like war. His buddies were invisible, but they were heavier than any boulder to exist.
Izuku just stared, Katsuki's hand wide open like a welcoming—-a warm welcome to a new heart.
His eyes dropped as he got up on his own, trying to ignore Katsuki's face as he slowly trudged back to the room, the bed creaking with the weight of Izuku's body.
Katsuki followed, sitting beside him without a word.
"I'm sorry, Kacchan." Izuku muttered, twiddling with his fingers as he looked rather ashamed. Katsuki scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I don't understand how you still want to be with that bastard after everything he's done to you. Seriously Deku?"
Izuku looked up, glaring at him. "It's not easy." Katsuki huffed, "He did so much shit to you, basically made your life a living hell but yet here you are kicking me and yelling at me at how you would kill me if I were to hurt him. That doesn't add up."
Izuku got up, standing in front of him with his hands on his hips with such a deadly glare Katsuki almost backed up. "Tell me that when you go through the same thing. You're acting like this is easy. You're acting like if this was as easy as capturing a villain. It's not, it doesn't even compare."
Katsuki got up, inches apart from Izuku. "So? Just get stronger. Just let go of him!" Izuku raised his hand, prepared to smack Katsuki until Katsuki swiftly grabbed his hand, making Izuku grit his teeth in pain.
"You think that's easy?! Oh wow Kacchan, what a great idea! Why didn't I think of that sooner!" Izuku said sarcastically, snatching his hand back. "If that was easy, I would've done that a long time ago."
"Easy? Not everything is easy. You want everything to be handed down to you on a silver platter? Is icy-hot's richness rubbing off on you? Not everything is easy, so you need to get stronger! What are you, weak?!" Izuku's eyes widened, the only thing he felt was anger.
The emptiness was filled with anger running through his veins the same way his quirk would do.
"Weak? I need to get stronger?!" He yelled, his hands balled into fists. "I tried to forget what you told me earlier, but no. Because it's people like you that I don't want to tell everyone the truth.
It's people like you that I call idiots. No matter what, it's people like you that act like your middle school self."
"What?" Katsuki seethed, little explosions popping from his hands. "It's people like you who don't try and just give up!" Izuku raised an eyebrow. "Who said I gave up? Even if I wanted to, I couldn't."
He knew. Izuku knew. This is all just a part of the cruel process he had to endure.
Katsuki went silent, walking to the bathroom and slamming the door shut as Izuku was left alone, listening to the quiet pitter-patter of the rain hitting the roof and the strong winds moving litter and leaves around like magic.
He sighed, lying down on the floor and admiring those stupid canvas paintings with those stupid colors that made stupidly pretty designs of space that two stupid idiots made back in high school.
Meanwhile in the bathroom, Katsuki desperately looked for Advil, his head pounding and his buddies becoming louder by the second.
Once he found it, he grabbed four pills, chewing them and swallowing them dry, the bitter taste never leaving his teeth. He panted, sitting on the toilet as he ran his fingers through his hair.
He felt better.
At first, it scared him. It was like an addiction, the pain never leaving until he swallowed those pills, the heavy weight becoming lighter with each crumb of bitterness his tongue tasted.
With every bitterness he could almost taste his only guilt, savor his own fear of one day just—-just not making it. It would send shivers down his spine.
He opened the door, walking back to see Izuku lying on the floor like a dead cockroach he had stepped on just a few days ago. It almost made him laugh at the comparison. Almost.
"There's a bed right there you know." He muttered, hands in his pocket as he towered over Izuku.
Izuku hummed, "Did you know that the floor is more comfier than your sorry bed?" Katsuki blinked, flabbergasted. "Waddya say you damn nerd? I'll blast you to hell and back if you keep that up. I'll even kick you out if I want!"
Izuku closed his eyes. "I was going to walk out myself but I knew you would drag me back by the hair so I decided to just stick around. Besides, it's raining." Katsuki huffed, "Your annoying." Izuku nodded, "I'm still mad at you, you know? The only thing that saved you was you shutting up."
Katsuki smirked, "Oh yeah? And if I didn't, what would happen? You would try to smack me or something?" Izuku shook his head, "No, I would probably kick you in the balls." Katsuki glared at him, bending down to flick his forehead.
"Don't touch me. You went to use the restroom and you didn't even wash your hands. Disgusting," Izuku spat. "Heh? I didn't even use the toilet."
"Then what were you doing?" Katsuki went silent, muttering a variety of profanities st the end. "Nothing that concerns you."
He stood up, heading to the kitchen. Izuku opened his eye slightly, noticing Katsuki making his way out. "Where are you going?"
Katsuki didn't turn around. "Make food. I didn't even get to eat breakfast because of your ass." Izuku rolled his eyes, getting up and trudging behind Katsuki. Once he got there, he sat in one of the chairs while Katsuki prepared himself.
As Katsuki was about to touch one of the ingredients, Izuku said, "Wash your hands, nasty." Katsuki glared at him, making his way to the sink. "You annoy me to every extent."
Izuku ignored that, resting his chin on his hand as he watched Katsuki prepare the ingredients. It was fascinating; the way he would cut up the vegetables so diligently as if he didn't care if he was to cut his finger. No—-it was like he knew he wasn't going to hurt himself.
Slowly, the smell of pure onions in front of his face was replaced with a variety of other smells clashing into each other in the midst of air particles. The steamy warm smell of pork and the basic smell of rice added with the simple smell of eggs was enough to make his mouth water.
It wasn't quiet, the fire from the stove and the boiling of water were the only sounds that were produced. Izuku only observed, once in a while letting his eyes wander and explore more about this apartment. He didn't ask what Katsuki was making, didn't care about the answer.
Katsuki was too focused on making sure that everything was perfect. He made sure he didn't mix up the teaspoons with the tablespoons, to not mix the salt with sugar and to definitely not spill something and make a fool out of himself in front of Izuku.
It was so weird. He remembered cooking for his mother and father. He made sure to be organized and perfect but never was he this stressed. Never to this extent.
For Pete's sake he was like a schoolgirl trying to impress the new kid.
Once the food was ready, he got a plate and set the pork over the rice, carefully sprinkling the garnish and scallion on top until he felt it was just right.
When he finished, he sighed, smirking to himself as Izuku's eyes were glued to the dish, eyes wide and mouth open agaped. Katsuki looked up, locking with Izuku's eyes for a spilt second before looking the other way.
"Tch. Take it." He said, shoving the plate to Izuku. He blinked, looking at the dish that felt so forgein and different.
"It's Katsudon." He whispered, eyes softly glistening through his dullness. Katsuki scoffed, hands on his hip. "Yeah yeah, eat it all. Don't leave any leftovers. It took me freaking years to make it." Izuku nodded, grabbing a pair of chopsticks and slowly grabbing a bite.
"Thank you for the meal."
Once the piece of pork and eggs with the rice touched his tongue, it was almost nostalgic. The way the flavors danced with each other in his mouth made him remember the times where their weren't marble floor, and their weren't blank walls and bland food.
Made him remember of the times where he wasn't cold, and when he was warm and safe in his mother's arms and the sweet smell of her own clothing soothed him to sleep.
Made him remember of the small kitchen, the place where his mother would hum quiet tunes to herself as she delicately sprinkled any condiment she thought was right.
Made him remember the times he would come home from school crying, only to be greeted with the delightful smell of his favorite food and the warm scent of home. When he would take his shoes off and embrace his mother. He remembered sitting down and eating, laughing through bites, his sadness slowly leaving with the tenderness of the meat and the sweet sound of his mother's voice.
It was like home. Where everything was going to be alright and everything was going to be ok.
At that moment, Izuku wanted to smile, wanted to laugh and cry and scream and yell at this forgein and fuzzy feeling he didn't feel in what felt like years.
But he didn't.
"Thank you so much Kacchan."
Katsuki didn't know what Izuku was feeling. To him, he was just enjoying a normal meal. "Tch. Don't expect me to make you more anytime soon."
Izuku nodded, the flavors dancing inside his mouth like a party—-a party of what felt like—-what maybe, just maybe felt like home.
"I haven't had this in a while," he whispered, nostalgia banging him in the head over and over again until all he could see was the small little kitchen and another head of green, silky hair.
Katsuki's eyes furrowed, "What do you mean? Isnt this your favorite food or some shit? Didnt you eat this back in-"
Izuku looked up, "We only ate what he liked. If he wanted cold soba for a week straight, that's what we were having:"
Katsuki's hands clenched, his eyes a bit redder than before and his heart a bit more fast paced than before. "What about you? Did he not eat what you wanted?"
Izuku shrugged, looking back down at the leftover rice and crumbs of pork. "He would always do this thing where he would separate the chocolate from the pancakes and give the chocolate to me. Other than that, I haven't had Katsudon since high school."
It hurt him more than it should've. Katsuki didn't know how much Izuku even liked Katsudon until it was taken away from him years ago only to be served back again in someone's random kitchen after an argument.
Katsudon. It was just a fucking meal for Pete's sake. Yet, it was like a gift. An honor and a privilege to be cared for with such delicacy, all of Izuku's childhood memories in one plastic plate.
Maybe Katsuki was going to make Katsudon for him in the future. "Don't worry. Katsudon is much better than onigiri."
Right.
Katsuki walked over to Izuku, grabbing his arm. "Do you eat?"
Izuku raised an eyebrow, swatting him away. "Why do you ask? Of course I eat. If I didn't eat God knows where I would be right now." Katsuki placed his hands on his hips, a habit he hadn't cut since High School. "Then why-"
"Why what?"
"That day, I told you I had leftover onigiri. Yet it was like I told you I had a buffet back at home."
"I was—-I was hungry that day. Really busy." Izuku excused, yet they were the cheapest words money could buy.
"Bullshit. Busy with what? You haven't been doing hero work in a while. What are you going to be busy with? That icy-hot bastard?"
Izuku gritted his teeth. "Fine. I was almost dead." Everything went silent, Izuku's chopsticks no longer clanking against the plate while Katsuki's demands for answers turned into nothing but air. His concern and anger for Izuku soon turning into a canvas; a horrifying picture that he didn't want to see.
"What did—-what does he do to you?" Izuku pursed his lips, letting his eyes wander around the room to avoid any eye contact. "A lot." Katsuki sighed, knowing that it wasn't his place to ask questions to a dude who he didn't know.
"When you're done, come to the room." Izuku raised an eyebrow, his eyes following Katsuki as he slowly made his way back to the room. "Aren't you going to eat? Didn't you say you were-"
"No. Just eat and come to the room."
He needed to get that picture out of his head. Because all he saw in that moment, was the craze of red staining the floors with a body containing green hair and freckles covered in red.
***
"I'm done eating! Now can we talk?" Himiko smiled, sliding over her plate with a content stomach and two men staring at her weirdly.
"Took you long enough," Touya grumbled, making Himiko roll her eyes. "I hate you." Touya let out a chuckle, not caring in the slightest of Himiko's little comments.
Shoto sat quietly, his hands folded neatly on his lap as he waited for Himiko to finish her plate of food. Everyone has to eat before talking about important business.
As Touya and Himiko bickered around, Shoto spoke up, "Pardon the interruption but can we talk? I've been waiting for a while now and Izuku's going to get suspicious-"
Touya scoffed, "Seriously? We're going to get captured anyways so is there really any point in still hiding it from your little boyfriend? Pathetic."
Frowning in confusion, he cocked his head to the side. "Did you not say you had a plan?" Himiko glared at Touya, her eyes just as strong as the knife she carried in her pocket, her fingers playing with it softly. "Don't lie to us, Dabi. Like Shoto said, did you not have a plan?"
"I do," He said, his fingers latched on a small glass of wine as he let the liquid dance inside the transparent object. "We're getting caught."
Both Shoto and Himiko sat in silence, trying to let the words process through their heads. Himiko stood up, her footsteps soft against the dirty floor as she leaned down to Touya.
"Excuse me?" She asked, her voice deeper and her presence deadly. Touya wasn't fazed though, slouching back on his chair. "We're letting ourselves get arrested."
Her knife shot up quickly, the blade quickly but yet so softly pushing its way inside Touya's skin, making his breath hitch at the feeling of the sharp item cutting his dead skin that had been stuck there for so long, it hurt to even touch it.
"Give me one reason why I would ever let myself get arrested. Hmm?" Himiko whispered. Shoto got up, making his way over to Himiko as he extended his hand, placing his hand on top of her's.
"Now is not the time. Please let go of the knife. I gave it to you to carve useful things, not dead skin cells." Touya glared at him. Nevertheless Himiko sighed, mumbling a few words before sitting back down on her chair, wiping the tip off with a napkin. "You're lucky I like you, Shoto."
He hummed, looking back at Touya, ready to get back on track. "Why are we getting ourselves arrested?" Touya sighed, suddenly bored from the question. "Because of you."
Shoto was taken aback, his eyes going wide for just a split second before recomposing himself. "How so?"
"You're a hero, we're villains. That's all." Touya said, grabbing his glass as he took a large sip, the flavor of it slowly slithering down from his tongue down to his throat. Shoto however, was still both dense and lacked the villain's play to understand what his brother meant. It didn't seem to click, the feeling similar to a child trying to fit a puzzle into the wrong spot.
Himiko understood though. Too soon in fact, feeling kind of bad for making Touya bleed out of the skin he couldn't call his anymore.
"I'm not understanding," Shoto whispered. Touya rolled his eyes, throwing his head back in some sort of annoyance. Quickly, he brought his head up, exhaling. "Look kid. You...are a hero. You are considered all goody-goody. You never do anything bad, right?"
It was then when it hit him like a bus—- no, a yacht.
He had completely forgotten about the people who saw him as their hero.
"You can't do anything wrong because all those sickly bastards will call you out. The only way that they seemed pleased is when they get to see you suffering in a jail cell." It all seemed to click, the puzzle finally finding its way into the perfect hole.
His eyes were opened once again, the bandages slowly unwrapping to the world he tried so hard to ignore with the ignorant lies.
"Once you slip up, those people you try so hard to save—-even if it's for your own want—-will not be content until they see you suffering inside the wrath of their own hate. Once they see a hero bow down to them and their problems is the day they will feel like a fucking god. They'll quit toying with you because they'll think they've finally created peace and throw you away like shit because they finally got what they want. Because they finally eliminated a thief in disguise.
We're going to give them what they want." Shoto thought about it, before asking, "Then what?"
Touya chuckled, his new craze and want and need felt like crack to him, his imagination and dreams feeling like this heavy load of lust that he almost couldn't contain. "Well, what we're going to do next is under one condition."
Shoto cocked his head, "And that would be?"
"Once they're happy we'll escape. We'll get our own peace and drown them with their own karma."
Peace.
The one promise he had made. The one promise he had worked so hard not to break. It would be like the lullaby; the world would be just as peaceful as Izuku's singing if he was the one to sculpt it. He would shape this world the same way each freckle and crevice would create Izuku.
He would sculpt this world with his own two hands; Izuku would be the model, Touya and Himiko his clay.
"I accept."
They shook hands in a promising new life, not with investigators or policemen or even heroes, but with the people he had to fight against in order to keep the promise going.
***
"So you don't sleep?"
Katsuki shook his head as he couldn't help the shame he felt seep from inside him. "That's why I was pacing back and forth. I don't sleep I just—-I just think."
Izuku nodded. Even though he couldn't exactly show it, he was quite curious. It almost made him want to take his notebook out, start writing everything Katsuki said about this new feeling.
"What is it like?" He asked. Katsuki thought about it for a bit, trying to connect words with feelings together until finally, he came to the conclusion where he couldn't place his mind to think about what it felt. He just couldn't exactly explain.
"It's like, if I go to another world. Just—-different. My life is different, everything the way I would like it to be. I can just start talking to myself or pace back and forth. It's almost like I'm having a fucking conversation with an actual person. Gestures and all."
Izuku listened attentively, trying to picture what it would be like if he could do that. If he could just leave this world and go to another whenever, escape this shitty reality and actually get to live those pretty lies.
"Why?" Katsuki looked at him, "Heh?"
"Why do you dream?"
"I don't know. I just do. It feels good, you know? Getting to leave this messed up place and just go to another dimension. It does get in the way of my normal life sometimes but like hell am I going to let go of that."
Both of them stayed silent for a while, trying to feel this closeness that they haven't felt since High School. Back when they could talk about the most lightweight stuff that made absolutely no sense while looking at the sky above; the moon and the stars twinkling just at the sight of them.
Now, here they sat in the darkness of the curtains covered up in blankets. "That's...nice." Izuku whispered.
His eyes wandered off yet again, trailing behind the lines of the ceiling to the headboard of the bed until it landed on those canvases.
"Those canvases. I'm surprised you still have them." Katsuki looked up, snapping out of his trance as he looked to where Izuku's eyes were planted. "Tch. They just look nice."
"Can I keep one?"
"What?"
"Please?"
Katsuki grumbled, "Why do you even want them?" Izuku shrugged, "When you were talking about your imagination, that painting over there-" he pointed at one of the small ones. "It reminds me of your dreams. A universe, right?"
Katsuki was surprised at Izuku's actions. But he couldn't let it show. He had to act nonchalant. "A parallel universe."
"Well yeah."
But Katsuki wouldn't buy it. It's not that he didn't want to give it to Izuku, it's just that he had to know the reason. The true reason. And alas, both Izuku and Katsuki knew Izuku wouldn't get that canvas until he fed up.
"I just—-must be fun, getting to live inside pretty worlds with promising lives."
It kind of hurt. Seeing someone have something you'd wish you could just have a taste on. Just one lick, one sniff, one touch. Even one glance.
Katsuki got up, grabbing the small little canvas and hooking it off the wall. "Take it before I put it back."
Izuku blinked, slowly latching his hands on it and pulling it gently. "Really?" Katsuki huffed. "Anything to make you stop talking sad shit like that. Anyways it's not like it's all that good. It gets away with my actual life."
Both of them knew what he meant.
Every time you want to give up, look at that damn canvas and get the fuck up. Don't you dare lose your hope. Don't you dare give up on having pretty truths. Persevere. And one day you will have the life you dream; not dreams like mine, but real life.
Izuku half-smiled. Unfortunately, Katsuki didn't see it.
"I'm going back to Shoto's place." He didn't even get enough time to stand, feeling someone yank him back down by the collar.
"Why the hell are you going back?"
"I need to get my stuff. In three days or so, his house will be on sale."
Katsuki's concern turned into a smirk, feeling sort of-maybe-absolutely proud at the moment. "Get your shit. And hurry up."