A day passed. Two. Three.
A week.
A month.
Nothing changed.
Every time he blinked he begged for whatever entity he thought would be listening to him that this time, this time he'd see something. Anything for that matter. Anything but a sea of suffocating darkness. Anything but an ocean of emptiness. He blinked and nothing changed. He could close his eyes and it was still the same. He could wake up from a nightmare, gasping for breath only to wonder if it really were the other way round, because again and again the universe refused to let this pass.
The first few days at the hospital were the hardest. Full of fear. Full of agony. It didn't hurt, physically at least. Emotionally was a whole new conversation entirely. He had so many questions but couldn't bring himself to ask such, knowing it would only make the situation worse.
It didn't take the doctors long to discover the full extent of Izuku's 'condition'. He was informed that he was completely blind after he had to partake in such tests. He also found that there was no way to cure it, no way to reverse time, no way for this to improve.
A month full of tests and trials. A month of learning to cope, having to. A month of torture.
His friends passed in and out of his ward when they could, stopping by to visit, see how he was doing. And although Izuku felt like everything was collapsing and crashing down on him, he'd always send a smile, always faked a laugh. Hoping that if he did it enough times it would eventually come naturally to him.
Katsuki on the other hand couldn't care less about the whole situation.
He continued to stay at his folk's place, having nowhere else to go but wishing he did because escaping there was no different to being at the hospital.
"Morning sleepy head, or should I say afternoon?" His father greeted him, patting his head as though he still were a kid – which in their eyes he was. Katsuki attempted to swerve out of reach, hoping to avoid the physical contact as he groggily tried to make a cup of coffee.
"What's going on, brat, this is becoming a habit of yours. Waking up at 3pm," Mitsuki sighed, not taking her eyes off the book she held in her hand as she addressed the sleep deprived boy.
"Piss off old hag," was all Katsuki could mumble as he brushed the bags under his eyes and headed back upstairs to spend another whole day up in his room.
"I'm trying to look out for you, kid, and this is the thanks I get?"
"Remind me why I came back here again."
Mitsuki slammed her book shut with an exasperated sigh. "Katsuki..."
A warning went off in the boy's head at the mention of his name. His mother's voice was soft and gentle, juxtaposing significantly to her normal demeanour. And when she spoke to him in that tone it usually resulted in having to have a serious conversation. Which to Katsuki was more than unbearable. He much preferred it when she was shouting and screaming at him irrationally.
"Are you okay?"
Well what the fuck is he supposed to say to that?
His mother's eyes scanned over his deteriorated state with a deepening frown. He flinched back as she reached for him.
It's not new knowledge to his parents that their son is broken. They were there with him when he first became a hero. There when things grew rough. When he realised there was so much more to this job than simply punching a villain in the face and everything is said and done. No. There are far more complications than that. There's pain, suffering, failure.
Katsuki's seen death more times than he can count. But he can see every one of them in his mind. The faces of those he failed to rescue, to save. The faces of the people he let down, couldn't get to in time. The pros told him time and time again that the hardest part is being unable to save every single person out there. It's inevitable that there would be at least one. But to see the ugly truth that it's so many more than that burns.
It's not uncommon for pros either to suffer afterward because of that. Plagued with nightmares of bonfires, cities submerged in inferno, screaming – screaming from every corner of a place that reeked of death. And each while Bakugo went back into battle, forcing himself to forget the mistakes of last time, he couldn't help but feel petrified that it would all repeat.
"Perfectly fine," he spat back and stormed to his room, just like a teenager in a tantrum.
He collapsed down onto his bed with a low groan as he gripped his hair in frustration.
Even though since the beginning, three years ago, things had improved – the nightmares weren't so bad, he was better at hiding it – it wasn't entirely erased.
God, he really needed a distraction right now. The last thing he needed was to let his mind control him. Lucky for him his phone started ringing, Kirishima's name coming into view on the screen.
"What do you want shitty hair?"
"Hey...can you come to the hospital real quick?"
The vagueness of his request puzzled the other, brows draw together at the question.
"Why?"
"We'll explain later, just come here."
Bakugo's eyes narrowed before he hung up. He wasn't fond of following others' orders because he's petty like that but decided that going was better than sitting up here all day so he obliged.
"The hell is going on?" He asked again, reaching the red haired hero, when he arrived at the hospital. The awkward grin he received in return made him freeze in his place.
"So we have a favour to ask you..."
"Oh hell no. I can already tell I'm not going to like this idiot, so save it."
"Come on, man. You have no idea what I was going to say."
"Something stupid no doubt."
The red head held his hands up in a form of surrender as he continued on. "Just hear me out. How long are you staying in Japan?"
Bakugo bit the inside of his mouth, unsure if he should answer honestly or not. "...A month."
If he could jump into the future and realise what madness he was getting himself into he would have just got on that plane back.
"Okay, well since you're the only one of us that has any time off we wanted to ask if you'd look after Midoriya."
The blonde's fist crackled with orange light. "Excuse me, what?"
Kirishima chewed his lip anxiously at the dangerously calm tone in his friend's voice. "The doctors said that it's best for him to stay at his home for now as it's familiar to him, while he recovers."
"No way!" He objected angrily. "Why don't one of you lot babysit him?"
"Because we're pros, remember? And we get barely any time off, so none of us could do it or we obviously would. You're the only one of us with any time off and you're not a hero registered in Japan."
Bakugo exhaled sharply, folding his hands together. "You do realise this is Deku we're talking about?"
"If it makes you feel any better he isn't too fond of the arrangements either."
"Why can't he go live with his folks or some shit?"
"That villain was clearly after Midoriya in particular, and if word gets out that he's weakened now, the villain is obviously going to strike again. He'll be putting his parents' lives in danger if he stayed with them. That's why we need another hero with him."
Bakugo hated this. Hated how much sense it made. Hated how annoying that was.
"Look it's just until one of us can get time off and do it ourselves. You only need to be there for what did you say, a month? That's it. Then you can go."
Katsuki had no idea how he'd managed to get himself in such a complication. When he came to Japan, he thought he'd get some peace and quiet in a place that no longer knew him. But nope. He's stuck with having to babysit this green haired loser.
What shocked him even more was he found himself almost actually willing to go through with the lunacy.
"Fucking fine. But it's only because I can't stand another minute with my folks. If it's any more than a month, I'll kill you."
When he meant he wanted a distraction, this never would have crossed his mind. Never in a million years. But he guessed it would have to do.
"You know you better pay me for doing this crap," he growled, storming into the room Izuku was sat, staring at the ground. "Oi!"
The sudden exclamation caused the other boy to jump out his skin in fright, unable to detect Bakugo's presence.
"Kacchan...?" His misty emerald eyes rose to land somewhere close to the blonde.
"Get up, we're going."
"I-What?"
"Yeah, so Bakugo agreed to look after you," Kirishima explained, wriggling his way between the two before another feud took place.
"Yeah, well I didn't," Izuku scoffed, arms crossed.
Bakugo rolled his eyes. "Too late, everything's agreed now so hurry up before I change my mind."
Izuku raised an eyebrow at his childhood friend's attitude and simply chose to address Kirishima instead, completely ignoring the other. "Kiri, I don't need anyone looking after me, I'm fine. I'm the number one pro hero I can handle a little...mishap such as this."
"You're fucking blind for god's sake. This isn't a 'little mishap'," Bakugo sneered, mimicking the other's voice very badly.
An undetectable emotion flashed in Izuku's eyes. "You're a real asshole, you know that?"
"You're a dickhead."
"Bitch."
"Bastard."
"Moron."
"Idiot."
"Okay!" Kirishima cut in quickly, hoping to bring the subject of conversation back to the matter at hand. But he was starting to wonder if these two in an apartment together was the best thing.
"The doctors said you're free to go, Midoriya. I know these arrangements might not to be to everyone's liking but if that villain comes back and manages to get to you..."
Izuku's gaze softened as he turned back to Kirishima, sighing decisively. "Okay. If it makes you guys happy then I'll go with him, even if I hate every minute of it."
Katsuki frowned. "Well I guess there's one thing we can agree on."
~
"What is this dump?" Bakugo huffed, dragging his feet across the gravel as he got out the car.
It was dark by now, greeted with an azure sky and gentle breeze, as it took about three hours to finally get to Deku's apartment and it was not a comfortable ride. Full of arguments every other minute, several wrong turnings and the idiot forgetting how to get there. But now, now finally they had made it.
"It's not a dump," Izuku defended as he cautiously opened the door to get out the car, only to stumble and hit the broken tarmac. "Ouch..." he mumbled, rubbing his bloody elbow.
"God you're like a child," The taller of the two sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you that clumsy you need me to help you get out of a car too?"
Izuku bit back his tongue, his lips pursed to stop himself snapping back. He pushed himself back onto his feet, reaching out to steady himself against the side of the car.
It had only been four weeks since he first went blind and having to adjust to his whole world disappearing wasn't an easy task. He'd learnt that paying attention to the sounds of things, listening to the tap of someone's shoes and being able to roughly detect how far away they were. Touch was essential too. It helped him to create images in his mind even if he couldn't see the thing itself. Sometimes he preferred it that way, because then everything was always much more beautiful. He could look up to a sunny sky yet imagine it as a magenta ocean above him, full of birds and blue clouds.
"I don't need help, not from you," Midoriya whispered.
Bakugo rolled his eyes in a manner that couldn't care less as he swung his duffle bag over his shoulder. Midoriya moved his hands in front of him, letting them hover at shoulder height to stop himself from crashing into anything that wasn't meant to be there. Because this was his home, he knew it all without having to see it, and managed to climb the stairs to get there without any more scrapes and cuts. He fumbled about for his keys and stepped inside, breathing a short sigh of relief because he was familiar with these surroundings. He'd lived here for years. And it was reassuring to him, he felt safe here, he almost felt less blind in a way.
"You're the number one hero and this is as much as you can afford?" The grumpy blonde continued, scanning over the set of apartments before following inside.
"Of course not, if I wanted to be a narcissistic maniac I would be living in ten penthouses." Midoriya rubbed the back of his head, placing the keys away. "But this job was never about the money, so I'm living humbly. Besides, the rest of the money goes to the people who need it much more than I ever would. It also helps that no-one would expect a pro to live somewhere here, so I'm away from the media and anyone who wants to come after me."
Bakugo glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, though Midoriya could not see his expression, he sensed by his silence he was pulling some sort of face.
"I have a spare bedroom at the back," he informed, jabbing a thumb in the correct direction as he kept his gaze fixed on the ground. Katsuki seemed to notice he did that a lot. Finding more interest in the ground beneath his feet rather than to look at the people he addressed. "The bathroom is next door to it, other than that I think it's pretty easy to tell where everything else is."
Katsuki huffed in return, not fond with the idea of making pointless conversation for the next couple hours and settled with becoming acquainted to his new home for the next few weeks. He pushed open the door, lip curling in distaste as it creaked anciently although the room itself certainly was far less historic. He almost expected it to be full to the brim with shrines of All Might, the memory of the other's past dorm room flickering into attention.
Another long exhalation drifted from his lips as he tossed the bag onto the bed, following in pursuit, squirming until he got comfortable. He heard the gentle tap of slippers against the polished wooden floor and then the click of a lock as Midoriya went to hide away in his own room. At least this way, Bakugo could minimalize the amount of time he'd actually have to spend in the other's presence and lessen the lengths of forced conversation.
With weary eyes he flicked through his phone, coming across a message from his mother that he chose to ignore. An unappreciative frown tugged at his mouth when he saw that once again Deku had texted him. It was from a good few weeks back, before the accident and all this madness that Katsuki had managed to become tangled in. The idiot never seemed to get the message in return that Bakugo wanted nothing more than to be left alone. A notification would always appear on his screen every year on the same day. Some sort of strange attachment that the other could clearly not let go of.
"Whatever..." Katsuki murmured almost silently as curiosity finally got the best of him and he allowed himself to finally read the fifty or so message that had built up.
[Hey, so you haven't been reading my messages but of course that's to be expected, I guess. I'm starting to wonder if you even use this phone anymore or if it no longer belongs to you. Oh god I hope it's not the latter. Gah! That be super embarrassing if I were texting a random middle aged woman instead of you. Anyway, just wanted to wish you a happy Christmas ٩(^ᴗ^)۶ Wherever you are I hope you enjoy the holiday!]
sent six years ago
Katsuki rested his head on one hand as he passed over the other boring messages. "Stupid bastard..."
His finger stopped suddenly as one in particular caught his eye. One from two years ago.
[Kacchan...I know the last thing you want is to do something that I ask of you, but please. I know you don't particularly like me and that's okay, I just really need you to do this. Most of our friends have started to give up now, they're saying it's foolish of me to keep believing...I don't know, that you'll come back? That you're still even alive? It's possible I'm talking to a ghost, but I don't want to think of that being a possibility. So please. If you really are alive then show me. You don't have to say anything to me, just show me if you're reading this. Even if you don't I'm not going to stop speaking to you. Whether you want me to or not. And as much as I hate your guts, you've been in my life longer than I can remember and for you to go without any reasonable explanation I can't just sleep on that and pretend everything's okay. Because it's not.]
sent two years ago
[I miss you...]
sent a month ago
"How pathetic." As much as the sense of being needed didn't aggravate him too much, the fact that it was Deku on the other end made him feel conflicted. Conflicted with what, he couldn't say at that current point in time. But even just being made to feel something as such brought about an inclination of irritation.
The young hero threw an arm over his eyes, groaning with frustration. This was going to be a long month.