Okay, almost done! It might be out sometime tomorrow.. gotta scan through it like one last time. It’s 4453 words rn. Not sure if that’s a lot, but I thought It’d give a good idea on the length at least.
Things change slowly, over the years. It’s easy to miss if you’re not looking closely. The slight brush of shoulders, an encouraging pat on the back, an easy conversation. Nothing can be fixed overnight, but the same could be said that nothing can stay the same. All progress is gradual, but it builds and builds until suddenly you can see it, bright and obvious as if it’s been there all along.
—
It’s snowing when Katsuki reaches out, his hands snagging on the sleeve of Izuku’s coat and jerking him away from the busy street. “Watch where you’re going, idiot!” he snarls, scowling fiercely.
Izuku frowns at him, brows furrowing. “Thanks, Kacchan,” he says anyways, but Katsuki’s already crossing the street ahead of them. He rolls his eyes, sighing exasperatedly before falling back into conversation with Ochako, letting his irritation melt away. Ochako replies easily with a smile, but her eyes stray towards Katsuki’s back with a thoughtful expression.
—
Growling, Katsuki snatches the book out of Izuku’s hands. Momo, from down the library table, shushes him and earns herself a very rude hand gesture in return. But instead of going back to his table, Katsuki plops down beside Izuku, ignoring the green-eyed glare to flip quickly through the textbook. He writes something down on his paper and hisses lowly, “I need to look again at this later when you’re done.”
He slams the book down on the table in front of Izuku before heading back to his own homework. Momo shushes him again, but Izuku says nothing, opening the text to find his lost place.
Hours later, when Izuku gathers his things, he places the book gently at Katsuki’s elbow. “Please return it for me,” he whispers, unobtrusive in the quiet library.
“Thanks,” Katsuki says flatly, and Izuku leaves.
Momo raises her brow, and continues with her essay.
—
Izuku taps on Katsuki’s shoulder during class one spring day, and Hanta braces for the explosion. Beside him, Izuku looks like he is too, despite the determined gleam in his eye. It surprises them both when Katsuki just turns around with a sneer, eyeing Izuku with disdain.
“Kacchan, do you understand problem five?” Izuku asks, his voice just barely wobbling.
Katsuki’s nose wrinkles, but he turns fully around in his seat. “What the fuck don’t you get about it?”
Together, they both bow over the worksheet, bickering heatedly as they work. Hanta gapes at them in shock, until Ectoplasm calls him back to attention. Still, he casts an incredulous glance to the side as Katsuki’s worksheet and calculator now join Izuku’s on his desk, both of them working furiously through each equation.
—
Eijirou winces when Izuku lands a particularly hard kick to his side, but he’s ready for it, his quirk fully hardening and bracing the area just before impact. Beside him, Shouto, his partner in the tag team exercise, grunts as he barely dodges a blast from Katsuki, but Eijirou doesn’t have the time to move. He goes flying, leaving the ring entirely to land in a heap at the edge of the gym.
“Too bad, dude,” Denki says, helping him up. They turn to the fierce battle that was supposed to be a team exercise going on in the middle of the room. “How long do you think Todoroki’s going to last against those monsters?”
As he says it, Shouto takes a heavy combined hit from both of his opponents that forces him back, stumbling out of the designated ring. Eijirou can hear Katsuki’s victory roar from across the gym.
Denki clucks his tongue. “Looks like those two are still undefeated,” he says, but Eijirou’s watching the way Izuku excitedly runs up to Katsuki with both hands raised. He pauses, grinning in front of his teammate, until Katsuki finally lifts his arms and smacks a quick, reluctant high five to Izuku’s palms. Izuku cheers, unbothered when Katsuki immediately stalks away.
—
Things change slowly. It’s easy to miss. The gentle brush of hands when walking side by side, an almost-too-causal arm over the shoulder, thighs pressed tightly together in a crowded booth.
—
Fumikage lets himself into the dorms quietly, escaping the humid spring night with a sigh of relief. It’s late and he’s expecting the common rooms to be relatively empty, having just left the library. So his footsteps falter when he spies Izuku and Katsuki seated at a table, books and papers spread around them haphazardly. Izuku’s cheek is pressed into his textbook, drooling in his sleep. Katsuki, sat right next to him, is furiously writing, his hand a blur across the page.
As Fumikage watches, transfixed, Katsuki finishes and smacks his notebook against Izuku’s sleeping face. “Read that, and then we’re done,” he snarls, though his voice is subdued.
Izuku snorts awake, wiping at his face. He says nothing, and just gets to work, red pen in hand. It’s then that Katsuki notices Fumikage at the door.
“What are you looking at, bird face?” he sneers.
Fumikage rolls his eyes, his momentary surprise fading away. “Are you working on Present Mic’s essay?” he asks instead.
“None of your business,” Katsuki says at the same time Izuku looks up with a bright smile and says, “Yes! Kacchan’s helping me with the grammar. Want to join us?”
“That would be helpful,” Fumikage says, eyes sliding over to Katsuki’s murderous face. “If it isn’t a bother. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“It’s no problem! Come sit!” Izuku says, so Fumikage pulls a chair out across from them, ignoring the laser-like glare that Katsuki’s pinned him with. He gets the feeling that he is indeed intruding on something he shouldn’t be. But Katsuki’s very good with English, and Izuku is very diligent with editing, so he won’t pass up the opportunity.
—
“Oooh, what are you watching?”
Katsuki looks up with curled lip, but Izuku matches Mina’s enthusiasm with his own. “Ashido-san! It’s the new All Might movie! Do you want to watch? Kacchan and I haven’t seen it yet! It’s been so busy, I haven’t had the chance!” he gushes, bouncing on the common room couch. “Kacchan gifted it to me for my birthday, so we’re making a night of it!”
Mina tilts her head to the side. “Didn’t Bakugou go see—” she starts, but Katsuki smacks her with a couch cushion. “Hey!”
“Shut it, pinky!” Katsuki snaps, eyes wide and wild. “Do you want to watch the movie or not?!”
She takes a moment to take in the slightly panicked, desperate look on Katsuki’s face before she smiles, bright and toothy. “Sure!” she chirps, and tries not to laugh when Katsuki scoots over to Izuku’s side so she can take his vacated spot.
Mina likes the All Might movies just as much as the next person, but the most entertainment the whole night is Katsuki trying to discreetly drape his arm over the couch behind Izuku without Izuku noticing. He never quite manages it, because every time he moves, Izuku turns the full brunt of his happy grin on Katsuki, freezing him in place. Giggling, Mina steals the popcorn bowl while Katsuki’s distracted.
—
Katsuki and Izuku are huddled together on the edge of the field, but they're not being quiet in the least. Denki can hear them across the baseball diamond, snipping at each other about something to do with All Might and quirks, and Katsuki keeps hissing ‘waste of our goddamn time.’
“Really, that’s enough! Let’s get started,” Tenya calls to them both, hand slicing through the air. “Bakugou-kun, it’s been decided that, as the top two students in the class, you and Yaoyorozu-kun will be team captains.”
Sneering, Katsuki sighs and steps up beside Momo with reluctance, Izuku grinning triumphantly behind him, whisper-yelling, “It’ll be fun!” at Katsuki’s back.
“I’ll be acting as referee, since Aizawa-sensei has declined,” Tenya continues, motioning to where their teacher is laying his sleeping bag in the dugout, napping. “As second years, we should be perfectly capable of—”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re not children, keep going!” Katsuki snaps. “Let’s get this stupid game over with already.”
Tenya coughs, but breezes over the interruption. “If the team captains would please choose your teams. Yaoyorozu-kun, as top student, please go first.”
Katsuki scowls at that, but says nothing as Momo calls out, “Todoroki.”
He rolls his eyes at that, unsurprised. “Deku.” Both Eijirou and Izuku gape at him, the rest of the class gasping in shock.
Momo doesn’t bat a lash. “Kirishima.”
“Uraraka.”
“Kyouka-chan.”
“Tentacle dude.”
“Tokoyami.”
“Drooly.”
And on it goes. Eijirou sends Denki a sad face as he joins the growing ranks of Katsuki’s team, Katsuki visibly peeved that Momo snatched up his second choice.
“Thanks for the pick, dude!" he calls, and turns to Izuku. "Kacchan goes for the heavy hitters, huh, Midoriya?” Denki says teasingly, eyes sliding towards Izuku to wiggle his eyebrows at him. But, instead of Izuku’s usually pleasant, sunny smile, he’s met with a glare. A very intense, very deadly glare. “I-I mean, Bakugou! Bakugou, his name is Bakugou!” he shrieks.
“WHAT?!” Katsuki roars, turning from where he had been hotly debating with Momo about first pitch. Both Izuku and Denki jump. “Stop calling my damn name, idiots!”
“Sorry, Kacchan!” Izuku says, trotting off to join him on the mound with Momo and Shouto. Denki watches him go, willing his heartbeat to calm. Izuku glances back with an apologetic smile, but Denki flinches regardless.
—
Katsuki takes one look at them and heads their way with fiery purpose. Shouto notices as soon as he stepped into the classroom, and decides to take a protective stance on the other side of Izuku’s desk. Izuku, oblivious, still chatters on, as if doom isn’t about to rain down on Shouto’s day. At this point, well into their second year of high school, Shouto’s used to it.
But before Katsuki can open his mouth, Izuku follows Shouto’s eyes and lights up like a firework. “Good morning, Kacchan!”
This stops Katsuki in his tracks, giving Shouto the perfect opportunity to escape.
“Good morning, Bakugou,” he says politely, already sliding away. “I’ll be right back, Midoriya, I need to speak with Yaomomo.”
“Sure!” Izuku says, flashing him a smile and turning his attention fully on Katsuki, as if Shouto hadn’t been there in the first place. Shouto sighs, cursing whatever fate or teacher that had moved him behind Izuku’s seat and Katsuki across the room this year.
—
A guiding hand on the small of the back, a hesitant curl of fingers around another’s, a brief touch of lips. Things change slowly, after all.
—
It’s a shock to the entire school when Izuku and Katsuki start dating, except for class 3A. A sigh of relief runs through the room when Izuku and Katsuki walk into class, shoulder to shoulder, their fingers tangled together. They look at everything but each other, Izuku's face red.
Ochako and Mina coo over it, and Eijirou runs over to smack Katsuki on the back in congratulations. Most of the class thinks this means their final year will be peaceful.
Shouto’s not so optimistic.
He’s only kind of right.
For a while, Izuku and Katsuki don’t move unless it’s together, often with Katsuki’s arm slung possessively over Izuku’s shoulder, or Izuku clutching to Katsuki’s hand. They don’t argue. They don’t debate. They don’t even want to spar against each other. Everyone can physically feel the building tension. Two weeks into the school year marks their first fight, and they destroy the practice field. Shouto had liked that practice field, thank you very much. The entire class thinks this marks an untimely end, over before it started. But the two surprise everyone again, when they make up quietly after class, leaving the school building holding hands again.
After that, they devolve back into something like what they had been before, except their bickering involves Katsuki pinching Izuku’s cheeks or Izuku tugging on Katsuki’s hair. And Katsuki smiles now. The rest of the class finds it unsettling. Class 3B avoids him like the plague.
Their second big fight happens over midterms, and no one’s surprised. They don’t break anything this time, and reconcile just the same as before. The same thing happens another two times January rolls back around.
And then, inexplicably, with no foundation-rocking shouting or ground-shattering explosions, Izuku and Katsuki break up.
—
A week passes, and Izuku stares after Katsuki’s back. It feels a little too much like middle school, when Katsuki wouldn’t so much as look at him. Something heavy, a leaden weight, sits in Izuku’s stomach, his eyes stinging and his throat burning. He stares after Katsuki’s back, but can’t raise his head past that.
—
A week passes, and Katsuki is living on stolen glances when Izuku’s not looking, drinking in the curly hair and the freckles and green, green watery eyes. His hands twitch. Katsuki can’t sit still, the urge to move, to do something crawling under his skin. But what can he do, when Izuku won’t just listen?
—
“I’m sorry,” Izuku croaks when Katsuki opens his door. He stares down, eyes trained on the white of Katsuki’s socks. “I’m really sorry, Kacchan. I love you.” Katsuki grabs him then, pulling him in and hugging him tightly. And Izuku goes, wrapping his arms around Katsuki’s middle and tries not to cry. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he babbles. “I’m sorry.”
Katsuki shushes him, rubbing a soothing hand down Izuku’s back, huffing when Izuku starts hiccuping. Down the hall, Kirishima’s door opens, probably alerted by Izuku’s choked off sobs. Katsuki tugs him into his room, shutting the door behind them.
“I’m sorry,” Izuku says again, weakly. He wipes at his eyes.
“It’s okay,” Katsuki whispers, pressing his lips to Izuku’s forehead. “I’m sorry, too. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” So, let me stay by your side, he doesn’t say. Don’t push me away again. So, let me protect you this time.
Izuku nods, sniffling and hiding his face in Katsuki’s neck, holding him tightly. “I love you,” he says again. His voice is raw, breaking the words in two.
“I love you, too,” Katsuki murmurs into Izuku’s hair.
—
It’s graduation and Eijirou’s crying, hanging off of Katsuki’s shoulder as if he’ll never see him again. Izuku, on Katsuki’s other side, pats him gently on the back, snickering at Katsuki’s grouchy expression. Their entire graduating class is scattered across the large ballroom, ceremony over and reception in full swing. They’re meant to be spending this time networking, but Izuku’s already gotten his fill of scouting for the day, wanting to stick close to Katsuki.
Similarly, Katsuki’s been ducking away from a particularly insistent pro-hero wanting his skills at her agency. It’s not a bad fit, Izuku thinks. But it’ll take Katsuki on the other side of the city from him, and Izuku isn’t keen on separating. He keeps this to himself, but it sits in the back of his mind regardless.
Mina passes by, unsuspecting, and Katsuki shoves Eijirou onto her and makes his escape, pulling Izuku along. They slide past Aizawa’s raised brow, and into the hallways, leaving the reception behind them.
“Finally,” Katsuki sighs, stepping into their deserted classroom, his shoulders slumping. “I’m so tired of that shit.”
Izuku hums noncommittally, eyes roving slowly across the room, committing it to memory. It might be the last time he sets foot through that door. He won’t be coming to class here anymore, he won’t get to see all of his friends everyday. They won’t eat lunch in the cafeteria together, they won’t spend their free time playing games in the common room of the dorm. The courtyard where he first met Ochako, the training grounds where he first began to master his quirk, this classroom where he and Katsuki had their first kiss; he won’t be able to revisit these places whenever he wants.
But at the same time, everything, everything stretches before him. An endless list of possibilities, and Katsuki, who pulls him close, and hugs Izuku back, and presses sloppy kisses to his face, and pulls at Izuku’s cheeks when he complains, and loves Izuku, and who wants to stay by his side, is right there, where he’s always been.
Katsuki snags his hand, stealing his attention away.
“Hey,” he says, gently. “You okay?”
Smiling, Izuku nods, sinking into Katsuki’s arms. “Yeah, I’m good.”
—
Until suddenly, it’s as if things have always been this way, as if nothing has changed at all.
Therion voice: “How dare you assume my life has been better, do you honestly think I would be in this situation if it wasn’t? I don’t need to hear this from my own self.”
