“We’ve only just met, and that’s what you’re asking me?” she straightens to look at him full on, glancing at him up and down with a scrutinising look on her face. He’ll admit he’s in pretty rough shape at the moment, which is a bit unfair, since underwear-girl doesn’t have a single scratch on her. 

Dabi had been out on a late-night stroll—later than usual. It must have been at least 3 a.m. when he noticed a group of guys surrounding a girl in an alleyway. Normally, he stayed away from petty fights, but the fact that it was four against one bothered him enough to stop. Maybe the League was getting to him or something. 

So, he stepped in, drawling out a “Hey, fuck off,” before they all turned on him at once. They slashed at him, each one holding a different kind of knife, which he found amusing, and he easily dodged them. They did get his clothes, and he got a few scratches on his arms before he saw the girl quickly back up and slip off her underwear from under her skirt, baling them up into her fist.

Then he heard the unmistakable click of a gun, and he had the sense to duck just as she shot at one of the guys, missing the guy’s head by mere centimetres. They all scattered quickly after that, one of them slashing at him one last time and ruining his jacket. Dabi hadn’t bothered to use his quirk, and looking back, he wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe he had felt like getting hurt. 

“Well, yeah,” Dabi replies now, grinning. “Sorry, was that too strong?”

“I’ve heard worse,” she grumbled, dusting off her skirt again as though it were actually covered in something. 

“Oh, I’m sure you have.” He doesn’t know why he’s lingering, leaning against the alley wall like an idiot, shirt and jacket barely being held together. But she’s lingering, too, arms now crossed over her chest and looking him over again. 

“How’s it work?”

“My quirk? It’s called Panty and Stocking, if you can believe it,” she looks mildly annoyed at that. “I take off my underwear or one of my socks and can turn it into a weapon, depending on which one it is.”

Dabi nods, then wonders why that sounds vaguely familiar to him. 

“I feel like I’ve seen you around. What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she replies easily. 

Oh. Toga’s “friend” she’d mentioned a few times. Dabi had figured she’d be just as weird as Toga, but Y/N didn’t seem to be as…unique as Toga. 

“Name’s Dabi.”

“I know,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. This was getting even worse. This is why he didn’t leave HQ, or his room for that matter, unless he had a goal in mind. An aimless walk in the sketchy neighbourhood they were currently staying in had found him here. 

“Have you got a place to sleep tonight?” Damn his small sliver of empathy, of compassion. This was Toga’s fault—she’d been making him watch way too many of those shitty dramas when she wasn’t too busy hanging out with Twice. 

“I was headed that way,” Y/N said, raising her eyebrows at him. “Why, you don’t?”

He glanced around, now acutely aware that he had little to no idea where he was and that his phone had died an hour ago. “Not anymore.”

“How enthusiastic!” Y/N laughs, bumping his shoulder as she walks past him. “Can’t wait to spend a night with me, I see. Come on, you can sleep on my couch. A friend of Toga’s is a friend of mine.”

He can’t keep the small smile off his face as he follows behind her, thinking of excuses for his absence he knows nosy-ass Twice will ask about when he goes back to the League. 

—

“Damn, hello to you too.”

“Ugh, it’s you. Come in,” Y/N waves him inside with her katana, narrowly missing his head. 

“Where the hell did you get that?” he follows Y/N and sits on her couch, making himself as comfortable as he can on the shitty old thing. 

It’s been a few months since he met Y/N, and since then, he’s found himself going on more nightly walks and conveniently ending up at her apartment, ready to pass out on her couch and steal her food. 

“It’s part of my quirk, remember?”

He glances down at her feet to see she’s missing a sock. Y/N looks harmless, wearing a night gown and missing a sock. But he knows she could decapitate him without so much as blinking, which just makes her way more attractive. 

“Hmm. Could you show me how the gun aspect of it works? I forgot,” he grins and ducks to miss her wild swing at him with her katana. 

“You’re lucky I like you, or else I would’ve called the cops a long time ago,” she huffs, bending down to slip her katana-turned sock back onto her foot. He watches as she settles back into the catch, idly flipping through TV channels. 

It’s not the first time she’s threatened him, but after the first two threats and spending more time wit her, Dabi knows she’d never rat him out. Toga trusts her, which, he reasons, has to mean something. Toga was also the reason Y/N hadn’t shot him the night they met, and the reason he had a place to sleep that night. 

He’s not sure he trusts her, and he knows she doesn’t exactly trust him. Dabi does know other, useless things about her, though. He knows she works at the cafe near her apartment and when she comes off her shifts, she always smells like coffee. He knows she’s always wanted a cat but doesn’t want to leave it alone all day. He knows she started keeping the sour candy he likes in her apartment for when he comes to visit. And he knows she’s an insomniac, prone to staying up late or walking around the block when she can’t sleep.

Useless shit he’s learned from the past few months of being around her. He’s not sure why he’s made it a habit to seek her out. 

“Whatever,” he said now, moving to wrap an arm around her shoulders and ruffle her hair as he pulled her close. She went limp in his grasp as she always did, laughing.

“You know, I was going to let you sleep with me if you came over tonight.”

He immediately lets go of her. Y/N laughs, pointing at his face as she does. 

“Not like that, you perv! I know the couch is way too old, and you sleeping on it so much isn’t helping its limited comfort levels. But you have fun breaking it tonight. It's on its last few uses.” Y/N turns off the TV and stands, stretching her arms above her head before heading off to her room. 

Dabi gets up and follows, ignoring the amused smile she sends his way. “You look happy,” she muses. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles. “Just tired of your shit couch.”

Y/N laughs as she glances around her room before grabbing a shirt and a pair of sweats from a pile of clothes on her dresser. “Here, change out of those clothes.” He makes quick work of it before following Y/N and lying down beside her, sighing at the soft feeling of the mattress. He hadn’t realised how bad his back hurt. Y/N’s shitty couch and his own crappy mattress were nothing in comparison to this. 

“Sleep tight,” Y/N said quietly, kicking her foot against his. Dabi only grunted in response, already starting to fall asleep.

—

It became a habit. Seeking out Y/N after a long day of scouting for new League members, or on nights when he couldn’t fall asleep. 

He was on his way to her apartment when he saw her wandering around. She was in her long skirt and slides, her bright pink socks visible even from where he was several yards away. Dabi smiled to himself as he approached her. She must’ve been out looking for a fight. 

“Y/N,” he called, and she glanced up and spotted him. Her face immediately broke into a wide smile, though he noticed it looked a little strained.

“Dabi! Were you coming to see me?” 

He frowned at her. “What’s wrong with your arm?”

“Nothing, I just—” 

He grabbed her wrist as she tried to hide her arm behind her back. 

“Why are you bleeding?” he asked her, turning her arm over to see how bad the wound was. 

“The guy got one good slash at me before I could stop him,” she sighed, frowning as though this were a minor inconvenience and not an actively bleeding wound. “I was on my way back to my place to wrap it when you found me.”

“Where’s the guy now?” Dabi asked as he pulled her along to her apartment, loosely keeping hold of her wrist. 

“Handled,” was all Y/N said quietly as they made their way up the stairs to her floor. 

They both didn’t say anything as Y/N let Dabi clean and wrap the cut, her small first aid kit open on her bathroom counter. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched someone for this long, or this carefully. 

“Thank you,” Y/N said as he finished wrapping her arm. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” he said, hands lingering on her arm. “You okay?”

Y/N nodded, raising her eyebrows at him as she started packing up the first aid kit, shifting out of his grasp. “You going soft?”

“No,” he scoffed, shuffling out of the bathroom and out of her way as she brushed past him to move into her kitchen. He trailed behind her, frowning. He wasn’t, was he?

“I’ll make us some coffee,” Y/N said, already bringing out two mugs from her cupboard and starting up the tiny coffee machine she had on her counter. Dabi hummed, watching her bustle around the kitchen from his spot sitting at her tiny kitchen table. 

The apartment was small, but he knew how much Y/N adored it. It was weird to think of himself as part of this now, but he was. He knew before she’d met him, Y/N only owned one coffee mug, which she had swiped from her job. They’d slipped into each other’s lives, whether they’d 

“Couldn’t sleep today?” she asked, setting down the steaming mug in front of him.

He shrugged. “Just knew you’d be up. Didn’t feel like being around the League today.”

Y/N nodded, blowing on her coffee mug. “You can always crash here.” 

Dabi allowed a small smile to flash on his face before he raised the mug to his lips. He knew he could. But he also knew he’d have to slip out of her life as quickly as he’d entered it one day. 

For now, though. A warm cup of coffee, a soft place to sleep, and nice company were pretty nice. Even if it couldn’t last. 

Best Jeanist had taken the both of them in after graduation, and Y/N had been thrilled and thoroughly surprised. They hadn’t worked with him at all as a student, having only interacted with a sidekick of his during an internship, but that recommendation had apparently been enough for the agency to offer a spot as a starting sidekick. On a whim, they’d accepted. The only other newbie was Bakugo, so they were both paired up frequently for missions and patrolling, which Y/N didn’t exactly mind, but Bakugo was just… a lot.

From what they knew and had been observing, he’d gotten a bit better since graduating. But he was still more than what Y/N was used to. At least, he was in the first few days. Now Y/N had gotten more than used to his loud voice and the way he sparked up whenever he was angry. It had become a habit to have a personal force field up whenever they were around him, which was doing wonders for their quirk strengthening and stamina.

It was hard to avoid him, since they were basically partners. Neither of them said the word aloud, though. Y/N once referred to it as “the p-word” with another coworker, fearing Bakugo would be summoned through the mere use of it. He was evidently still a bit set on doing the whole “rise to the top” thing mainly on his own, though he did accept help often. Asking Y/N for advice on something, letting them handle a certain part of a mission if their quirk was more suited for it. Going to lunch with them. Small displays of maturity that continued to surprise Y/N. He’d created a bit of a reputation for himself, and more often than not, Y/N felt ashamed in believing rumors and internet discussion boards.

Rumors began six months into their time working together. It was around the time Bakugo had finally cracked and started going to Y/N for advice. He was planning to form his own agency with a few of his old classmates. Best Jeanist had already given him his blessing, and the two often stayed late in the office to discuss. Y/N stayed behind when they could as well, interested in the logistics and impressed with the amount of thought that had gone into Bakugo and his classmate’s plans.

Y/N walked in early one morning, two cups of coffee in hand, ready to work on hunting for a building for the new agency, when a coworker rushed to their side.

“Have you seen the columns?”

The dreaded columns. The heroes didn’t bother calling them by their proper name, and instead referred to it as “the columns” or “the gossip.” It was the section of the daily newspapers dedicated to speculating about heroes, and more often than not consisted of rumors and flat out lies.

Naturally, every hero read them. Even if they weren’t necessarily true, they were funny to read and joke about.

“No, what happened?” Y/N asked, setting down their cup on their desk and placing Bakugo’s on his, where he was already hunched over his computer in deep concentration. They’d been coming in an hour early for the last week just to plan, so they wouldn’t be scolded for doing non-work related things on the clock.

“It’s about you two.” Bakugo barely glanced up from his screen.

“Huh?” he asked eloquently, reaching out to take a sip from his coffee, his eyes never leaving the screen in front of him.

Y/N pulled it up on their computer, too lazy to go into the break room to grab a copy, and thanked their coworker for the heads up before they walked away.

They almost spat out their coffee as they began to read. The columns were normally filled with blatant lies about a handful of heroes, and this week was no different. But the last bit was about Bakugo and Y/N, rising sidekicks at the Genius Office, and what the column’s described as a “rising power couple.”

“Are you seeing this?” Y/N demanded, to which Bakugo merely nodded. Y/N turned his computer to face them and confirmed he too had pulled up the columns. He seemed wholeheartedly unbothered.

“So what?” He took a sip of his coffee, meeting Y/N’s gaze. Face carefully blank, lips a ghost of a smirk Y/N had come to know too well. “Isn’t it true?”

Y/N froze in their seat across from him.

“I’m sorry, when the hell did you even ask me out?”

—

BEEP

“Hey, Katsuki. I’m going to the store after work, don’t forget to send me a list of what I need to buy for dinner today. And please don’t get ultra specific and list the brands, too. You know I’ll buy the cheap ones just to piss you off. See you later, loser.”

“How’s the agency going?”

“Fine. Everything is finally set up, we finished today. Tomorrow’s the first official day.”

“Congratulations! Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Y/N frowned at him from across the table, momentarily forgetting about their dinner.

“Busy,” Katsuki replied through a mouthful of food, grinning at Y/N’s wrinkled nose of disgust.

“Hmm, well. I’ll drop by during lunch!”

They’d been officially dating for almost three months now, and Bakugo had left the Genius Office to found 4A, a hero agency run by him and three other former classmates. Y/N had received an invitation to join, but had declined.

“Why the hell aren’t you joining?” Bakugo had burst into their apartment the morning after they’d emailed Uraraka their reply.

“I like the Genius Office,” Y/N said, completely used to Bakugo breaking into their apartment every now and then. He had a key, but Y/N knew he was always one for dramatic flair. “Plus you left a bit of a gap, and I just got promoted. Dunno, it’s going good. And 4A is your thing, I didn’t wanna impose or anything.”

Bakugo hadn’t said anything after that, just strode across the room to give them a strong kiss, then left. Y/N would never admit it outloud, since his ego would expand to the size of the moon, but whenever he did that—gave them a surprise kiss that conveyed everything he was feeling—they thought about it for the rest of the week.

Now they were eating dinner together at Katsuki’s house, which was a block away from the 4A building. It had become routine to see each other after work, crash at each other’s places most nights, and eat dinner together at least once a week. They basically spent all of their free time together, which Y/N was enjoying. Katsuki was a walking furnace, and he was the best cuddle partner. Plus he could cook, liked the same shows as them, and worked in the same field, so he understood a lot of what they went through. Pretty much the perfect partner, Y/N always said to themselves.

They just clicked. Y/N didn’t want to think about it too much, since it was just fun being with Katsuki. Casual. Not too much pressure. Perfect escape from the job.

And Y/N was glad they weren’t the only one who thought so. Katsuki wasn’t over the top romantic, but rather affectionate in other, smaller ways. Making them tea or coffee in the mornings if he left before them, buying them their own set of toiletries to leave at his house, keeping their favorite snacks in his pantry, always calling them right after they got off work. Y/N always called, too, but Katsuki was horrible about answering his phone sometimes, so they were quick to adopt the habit of leaving voicemails often.

“So what movie should we go watch next week? Know any awful ones we can laugh about?”

—

BEEP

“Hey Katsu— Bakguo. Fuck. Sorry. Did I leave anything at your house? You can put everything in a box, I’ll drive by and pick it up on Tuesday. Thanks.”

“How you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“He’s lying,” Sero and Kaminari said in unison, not even flinching at the glare Bakugo sent their way.

It had been a week since the break up. He and Y/N had been dating for over a year, so yeah, it had hurt to suddenly wake up with his side the bed cold, to realize he didn’t have anyone to call after work, to not receive a new voicemail almost every day, to not be able to smile at the way their voice always sounded so happy in his ear. To lose his partner.

Was he going to admit that out loud, fully sober? Fuck no. They’d have to get him drunk for him to talk about that. And his friends seemed to be trying to do just that, the little fuckers.

Kirishima ruffled his hair before taking his spot at his desk. “You know you can talk to us, dude. Don’t act like you forgot we’re your friends.”

Kaminari sent him a tentative smile. Sero flashed him his famous grin, sliding him a pack of his favorite candy. Bakugo took it wordlessly and ate it as he stared hard at his computer screen, determined to avoid his friends’ gazes. Sero and Kaminari had dropped by with some lame excuse of talking with Uraraka and Jiro about a possible team up. Based on the careful expressions on the girls' faces, wide eyes and enthusiastic nods when he’d brought it up, he knew it was a lie. He didn’t have it in him to give them shit about it.

What pissed him off the most was the fact that the gossip columns said “it was to be expected.” The breakup had quickly spread to the columns and held their attention enough to last two full days as the dominating topic. They’d gone on and on about how they’d seen the relationship slowly fall apart, how many people had called it from the start, that it wasn’t built to last. They were both “rising heroes,” after all. And young ones, at that. Their entire lives ahead of them. A relationship at this point in their careers didn’t make sense.

And that was the end of that in terms of their relationship in the columns. His friends kept checking in, taking him out for drinks after work, dropping by to eat lunch with him, calling him at odd hours of the night.

As the weeks dragged by, Katsuki couldn’t help but reflect on their time together.

Y/N had been the one to bring up ending it.

“I just… I think we both knew, didn’t we?” They’d looked so sad, staring at him with tearful eyes, when they could bring themselves to look at him at all. He’d searched in vain to find any sign of hesitation in them. “I really liked being with you, Katsuki. I just think it’s time we both focus on ourselves right now, on our careers. I know you feel the same, I just wanted to be the one to tell you I understand. That it’s okay.”

I don’t feel the same, he wanted to scream. Why should we break up? Wasn’t everything going well, didn’t Y/N just say that? Why ruin something that’s perfect?

They’d hugged him one last time, tears staining his shirt. Instinctively, he caught their hands as they pulled away. Sometimes, right before he fell asleep, he could almost feel the phantom feeling of Y/N pulling away for the last time, fingers slipping from his grasp.

—

Months passed. Katsuki kept a steady routine of work, visiting home, and crashing at his friend’s apartments throughout the country when he inevitably took on another team up request to stay busy. It was on a week he was staying in his actual apartment, idling watching the news, that he heard their name.

He sat up straight and turned up the volume of his TV. Even hearing their name made his chest ache—Katsuki had been avoiding broadcast news channels for a while now. His influx of information on recent events came from articles and from 4A, so there was no point in him listening to reporters and risk seeing Y/N in pro hero coverage.

He didn’t know why he’d stayed on this channel long enough to hear their name. It wasn’t just their pro hero name, Aegis, that got his attention. It was the use of their full name.

“—the group consisting of several pro heroes from five countries, was in California working with local heroes on an undisclosed operation when disaster struck just moments ago. A member of the criminal organization E.R.U.P.T reportedly leveled seven city blocks with the usage of unknown quirks, and the entire team of pro heroes and several other law enforcement officers and civilians are currently missing. A state of emergency has been declared as national and international agencies are being called to the scene, many of which are expected to join the search and ongoing investigation later today—“

Missing.

He’s reaching for his phone before he even knows what he’s doing.

One ring. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Hello, this is Y/N! Sorry I can’t answer the phone right now, I’m probably busy. And I like the way the automated voice lady says it, so lemme imitate it, hold on. Please leave a message after the tone.

BEEP.

You may now hang up or send your message. To review your message press 2. To re-record your message press 3. To send your message—

—

“Did we get called in?”

“Bakugo—”

“Yes or no?” He can’t keep the emotion out of his voice, flinching at how tired and angry he sounds, even to his own ears.

“No, Katsuki,” comes Jiro’s voice, and he curses, almost stopping in his run to the agency. “Where are you? I’m still at the office.”

“I’m two minutes away,” he replied. The streets are empty at this hour, but Jiro was prone to staying late and taking any requests that may come in overnight. She would have gotten the call, had it come in.

“I’ll call Ochacco and Eji—”

“Don’t. Let them sleep,” he replies so fast he’s surprised at himself. “And they’ll just try to stop me.”

Despite the situation, or rather probably because of it, Jiro huffs out what he knows is an exasperated laugh. “And I won’t?”

“No,” he said easily. “You’d do the same thing as me.”

He hangs up as he opens the doors of 4A, adrenaline flowing through his body and his mind whirring, trying to remember every detail of his last few interactions with Y/N.

“I’ve always thought about it,” Y/N had said, smiling at him from their place on his couch. It was a weekend, a couple months before they’d broken up. Before they’d left for their overseas mission. Katsuki should have seen the signs.

“I know I’m good at it, my last internship was all underground work. I dyed my hair and wore contacts and everything, it was actually pretty fun. My quirk lets me help people in those situations, y’know?”

He did. Y/N used Light Force around him constantly, both their quirks complementing one another. The first month at the Genius Office, when they’d initially met, he noticed Y/N had a faint glow about them, a visual representation of their quirk in action.

“Oh, I have it on in case you blow up.” The unexpected honest response as to why they always seemed to have it activated was enough to make Katsuki bark out a laugh. Y/N had grinned at him, palm outstretched toward him and glowing brighter. “The light from your explosions helps me strengthen my shields. We’re the perfect matchup when you think about it!”

Best Jeanist had thought so too, evidently. They’d been hired together and had rarely been separated since—it was how they’d gone from coworkers to friends to—

“The Anchor Agency is being dispatched,” Jiro interrupted his thoughts, her voice ringing in the quiet of the agency. Katsuki jumped up from his desk across from her.

“I was scheduled to work with them in four days,” he said. “Can you—”

“Hi this is Earphone Jack, could I please speak with Scout, she should be expecting my call. Thank you!” Jiro shot him a wide smile and a thumbs up, and Katsuki collapsed back into his seat.

He started pulling up the paperwork he knew he’d need to fill out, forms he already had half ready. He jerked his head toward Jiro at her rising tone of voice. “Dynamight was scheduled to assist with a rescue and enforcement mission with your agency starting tomorrow. Am I to assume this was not the mission? What’s going—” she paused to listen, eyebrows furrowed. “I see. Yes, he’ll be there within the hour. Thank you.” She hung up with a long sigh.

“Suit up, your plane leaves in 90 minutes.”

The next hour was a blur, Jiro rapidly relaying information to him with each phone call she ended. Katsuki finished and submitted the necessary paperwork as she did.

The details were sparse, which was surprising given the nature of the incident and the coverage it was garnering around the world. He and Jiro were piecing it together as they went.

No one had explicitly said it, but the reason the pro hero team had been in California in the first place was for an undercover mission. Every hero Jiro and Katsuki had connected to the mission had been carefully chosen, that much was evident based on their quirks and skill set alone. They also had little to no media coverage. Y/N’s media coverage began and ended with Katsuki. Even that was one small mention in an article, which made him pause. They’d been all over the columns for days after they’d gone public with their relationship. And Y/N had been a pro hero for almost three years now, where was the rest of the media coverage on them?

It had been six months since the breakup, since he’d last seen them. He kept thinking of what they’d said about undercover missions. I’ve always thought about it. And what they’d told him the day they broke up. I just think it’s time we both focus on ourselves right now, on our careers. I know you feel the same, I just wanted to be the one to tell you I understand. That it’s okay.

“Y/N was picked for this a while ago,” he told Jiro, who glanced up from her desk. She was on hold with another agency abroad, trying to get more information on what exactly Katsuki was walking into. He’d expected Uraraka to accompany him, since this was being presented as a rescue and enforcement mission. But he’d been the only one called in—which meant they needed more firepower. The Anchor Agency had actually requested him over a week ago, and he hadn’t thought much of it at the time. It hadn’t been declared an overseas mission then. Team ups like this were rare—but no media outlets were reporting on which specific agencies were being dispatched to California.

Jiro nodded in agreement. “Y/N and Anchor have similar quirks, if you think about it. Both could be used to protect from falling rubble.” She paused and began speaking rapidly in French, gesturing with her free hand as she did.

Katsuki went off to change into his hero costume, opting for the long sleeve version. He carefully packed every support item he thought would be useful into his duffel bag: grenades of all sizes, his specialized belt he used in rescue missions, and the four changes of clothes he always kept in his locker. He was trying his hair back with his mask when Jiro popped her head into the locker room.

“Let’s go, I’m driving you.”

He shrugged on his duffel bag and was about to close his locker when something caught his eye hanging on the door hook. He paused for half a second before slipping it into his pocket and following Jiro out.

—

The flight to California was largely uneventful. Katsuki was the only pro hero in the jet apart from Scout, a sidekick from the Anchor Agency he’d met before. She’d briefly greeted him and explained her quirk, Life Search, again for him, before promptly curling up in one of the few seats and taking a nap.

Katsuki tossed the few details he knew around in his head, eyeing the packet of documents whatever the committee behind this had deemed adequate enough to pass as a mission briefing. It was a relatively thin packet, containing the profiles of the seven heroes presumed to be trapped under the rubble in California, and the profiles of the additional ten heroes dispatched from around the world to aid in what had been deemed operation 7 Block.

The sorry excuse of a briefing revealed it had been several explosions above and below ground that had leveled the seven city blocks. All communication with the heroes had been lost minutes before. They had been in the area doing a routine patrol, which Katsuki didn’t believe. An entire task force in the same vicinity, within the very city the criminal organization they were investigating just so happened to be based in? He didn’t buy it. There was a reason the report was so short and so full of bullshit. They were waiting to tell them all in person what this was really about.

It wasn’t long before they were landing. Scout sat up straight from her seat across the aisle from him as though she’d never been sleeping and grimaced as the plane touched down.

“You ever been to the states, Dynamight?” she asked curiously as the jet slowed down on the runway. He shook his head. Scout nodded at him, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“I have, with Anchor. Once before,” her bottom lip trembled as she spoke, but she quickly set her face and stood as the doors opened. “Never thought I’d be coming back like this.”

Katsuki stood and followed her out of the plane, blinking at the brightness around him. They’d landed in a field, a tiny airstrip and small hangar laid out in front of the jet. Various trucks and small pop up tents were directly across from the hangar, people hurrying between each one.

He followed Scout to what seemed to be the main command center and was shaking hands and introducing himself to half a dozen people whose names he tried in vain to remember. To his surprise, many of the other heroes seemed to know who he was.

“You’re the last to arrive,” the hero closest to the two said, smiling cheerily at them. He had pink bubbles floating around him that faded away gradually as he moved. The Bubble guy who’s profile Katsuki had seen in the packet. “Now we can finally get briefed!”

As though summoned, the head officer called for everyone’s attention. He felt Scout straighten beside him and Katsuki reached down to touch the keychain he’d clipped to his costume’s pants, the familiar denim providing him a brief moment of comfort.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” she said. “You can call me Agent Moore, I’m the assigned commander for the 7 Block operation. I am also the commander of the original task force of 7 heroes we are here to discuss.” She paused briefly as the heroes surrounding her began to whisper among themselves. “I’m sure you all have a lot of questions, but we should be able to answer all of them.”

“To ease your concerns immediately, however,” she raised her voice as she spoke. “I do want to confirm that everyone presumed missing in the incident is alive.”

Katsuki let a grin of relief spread across his face as everyone around him laughed. He fucking knew it. Scout was wiping at her eyes, laughing quietly to herself.

“The seven block collapse was premeditated by E.R.U.P.T, intel we uncovered at the beginning of this operation. This is a rescue and enforcement mission, as will become abundantly clear,” Agent Moore continued. “You were each carefully selected and will play a crucial role in the completion of the 7 Block mission. We have been working toward this moment for almost a year.”

“The team of heroes have been working to dismantle the criminal organization E.R.U.P.T, which posed as an organization dedicated to liberate those oppressed by quirk regulations. In other words, criminals looking for an excuse to break quirk laws that were created to prevent violence and protect those experiencing quirk discrimination. They’ve become increasingly violent over the years and quite a few affiliated members have been arrested.”

The heroes around him bristled, and Katsuki took a deep breath to keep his hands from sparking in anger.

“E.R.U.P.T. was rapidly expanding across the state and the country, with fears of more chapters appearing overseas growing around the time the task force of heroes was brought together,” Agent Moore continued. “Pro hero Modi, who has a shapeshifting quirk, infiltrated the organization and informed us of the bombing plans. Her cover was presumably blown just after she made contact again to let us know the date of the bombing had been moved up.”

Agent Moore grabbed a stack of papers from the table in front of her and began passing them around the group. “E.R.U.P.T. was targeting the location of a secret committee located in the center of the 7 block radius that was formed to combat rising tensions between lawmakers and quirk freedom fighters.” She paused in front of Katsuki and Scout.

“Pro heroes Aegis and Anchor devised a plan to save the work of the committee and protect the integrity of their information. The explosion did happen, the 7 city blocks did collapse, yes. But the pro hero team controlled the collapsing rubble, and is currently underneath it, navigating a system of pathways they created to move the committee information away from E.R.U.P.T.’s hands.” She handed them both their packets before continuing. Katsuki glanced down at it and saw the word ENFORCEMENT bolded at the top.

“These packets contain your specific orders. We have two teams: the rescue team will be assisting the 7 Block heroes currently underneath the rubble securing the government information, and the enforcement team will be moving in on E.R.U.P.T. and leading arrests.”

Agent Moore turned to look at them all again, back at the front of the group. “We’ll catch them while they think they’ve won, before they can go back for the information they were willing to kill hundreds for, and finish what these pro heroes started.”

Katsuki grinned as Scout jumped up and down in glee beside him and the other pro heroes reacted similarly, fierce smiles all around.

Agent Moore shouted loudly and they all quieted down. She grinned manically at them. “Split into your assigned teams,” she said. “And let’s get these fuckers.”

—

“How about, ‘surprise!’ That’s a classic, right?”

Anchor scoffed at them, face twisting into a disappointed frown. “Maybe for a surprise party, Aegis. And is it really a surprise at all now?” That was a good point. By now, Katsuki should know they were alive. Hopefully they didn’t hate him too much for all of this.

Y/N pouted from their seat across from them. “You’re no fun. When’s the rescue squad coming to get me?”

Anchor swatted at them and Y/N laughed at their frustrated expression when their halfhearted hit landed on the force field around them, bouncing off Y/N harmlessly.

“Six months and I’m finally tired of you,” Anchor sighed, shaking her head. “And I can’t even get some space away.”

Y/N laughed, Anchor joining in after a moment until they were both wiping tears away from their eyes. Being underground for two days made everything much funnier than it actually was.

“Your watch should be over soon,” Y/N mused. “Freeze should be coming by soon.”

Anchor brightened considerably. “I can’t wait for my nap! And your turn will be here before you know it.”

Y/N nodded, stretching idly and glancing up. The rubble looked oddly neat in its frozen position above them.

It had been one or two days after the 7 Block Collapse—time immediately after had been finicky, especially because they had unexpectedly lost communication with Agent Moore and the support team from above.

Y/N still found themselves in awe that they were here, working alongside heroes like Anchor and Freeze. They were the youngest of the 7 Block pro hero team, which had been a cause of anxiety when they first agreed to join. But the six heroes had been more than welcoming, offering advice when Y/N needed it, and helping them strengthen their quirk beyond what they thought was initially possible.

“Remind me to do a rubble refresh when I head back for my nap,” Anchor said as they settled down in front of a box of intel. “It’s been a few hours since the last one, just want to be safe.” Y/N nodded and went back to their own box of intel.

The rubble above them was being held there thanks to a variety of different factors, including several layers of careful quirk usage. Y/N’s was the first layer, because Light Force required a source of light and there wasn’t much below ground. Anchor’s was the last layer—their quirk allowed them to stop any object they touched from moving. There was a time limit, which is why “refreshes” were so important. They walked along their assigned perimeter periodically to make sure it didn’t budge.

Y/N let their mind wander as they reorganized the box of files, double checking to make sure all recorded files were in fact present. They hadn’t found any discrepancies to cause any alarm yet, but they were still double checking their work. E.R.U.P.T. had proved to be more than what they seemed.

Three months into the mission, Modi had voiced concerns of her cover as an undercover agent being blown. Her shapeshifting quirk, if controlled and heightened against her will, could allow her to transform and imitate anyone the six other heroes trusted—regardless of whether or not she touched them. They’d needed a failsafe. Agent Moore had suggested they bring in specific heroes each of the six trusted enough to be able to distinguish between a duplicate and their real self.

Y/N hadn’t hesitated in writing down Katsuki’s name and hero agency information.

The position on the 7 Block team had been offered to them a little after they’d celebrated their one year anniversary with Katsuki. No loose ends had been printed in bold on the bottom of the short mission brief.

No loose ends.

Those three words haunted Y/N for a week before they caved and called Agent Moore to ask about it.

“Nothing they can hold over you, if your cover is blown,” Agent Moore had said. “We have people who can wipe your media presence away with a click of a button, so don’t worry about that. Ultimately, the choice is up to you. I won’t try to tell you what to do, you’ll know what’s best. The only concrete rule here is that he can’t know where you’re going, or why.”

Y/N accepted the position the next day, signed what felt like a million forms, and sat in Best Jeanist’s office the next day to ask for advice. Mostly on going abroad and undercover, but naturally, Katsuki came up.

“I don’t know what to do,” Y/N had admitted. “You’re the only person who knows even a little bit about where I’m going. I just can’t risk anything happening to him. And I can’t even talk to him about it. I hate this.”

Tsunagu sighed sympathetically. “You could leave him clues.”

Y/N had perked up at that. “Clues?”

Tsunagu nodded, sitting back in his chair thoughtfully. “Of course, you cannot explicitly say you are going undercover overseas, but leave him hints. And if you do decide to end things before you go, leave a clue in what you say to him then as well. This is hard, but in the end Katsuki will understand.”

So Y/N tried their best to leave clues.

They reminisced on their undercover experience, told him they’d always thought of doing it again. Introduced Katsuki to a few sidekicks at the Anchor Agency they thought he’d work well with for future team ups. Asked to spar with him more than usual, telling him they needed to get stronger.

But the voice in the back of their mind never left. You’re being selfish it hissed as Y/N laughed at something Katsuki said during their movie night. What if he gets tangled up in it all and gets hurt? it whispered the nights Y/N woke up in a cold sweat, quickly making sure Katsuki was sleeping soundly beside them.

What if you fail, and blame him?

That had been the worst thought. What if this was proof they couldn’t do this, weren’t strong enough?

No loose ends.

No one could know where they were going, why they were leaving. Media presence would be wiped as much as possible, appearances would be changed, a new alias would be assigned, a new apartment to live in. No contact with home while they were under, no contact with anyone but the assigned team.

In the end, the unthinkable choice became the only choice.

It hurt more than anything, to see the hurt, the confusion in Katsuki’s eyes that day.

“I just… I think we both knew, didn’t we?” Y/N’s eyes had teared up as they spoke. Katsuki’s eyes were trained on them, his eyebrows furrowed as though he didn’t quite understand what was happening. “I really liked being with you, Katsuki. I just think it’s time we both focus on ourselves right now, on our careers.” I’m sorry. I have to do this, please understand. “I know you feel the same, I just wanted to be the one to tell you I understand. That it’s okay.” Please understand.

They left for the mission two months later. Tsunagu saw them off, smiling to see the familiar keychain clipped to their jeans and the denim on denim outfit they’d picked, a small homage to their home agency, and of what was left behind.

A week into starting the mission, Y/N knew the hard decision had been the right one. They weren’t even infiltrating E.R.U.P.T. as much as Modi was, instead focused on serving as an analyst on the secret committee created to aid in taking them down. The committee knew their real identity, too, so Y/N only had to blend in and seem unassuming outside of work. The criminal organization was clearly suspicious of their work, despite how tightly the existence of the committee was guarded. Y/N was being watched constantly, they could feel it wherever they went.

They were tailed everyday on their way home from work, the secret committee’s building always had at least one E.R.U.P.T. crony there. And they knew Y/N was the person to follow, as the newest member of the committee. They knew where Y/N lived—which meant they tried to stay out of the apartment as much as possible, only stepping inside to sleep. Trying to paint themselves as a workaholic, which wasn’t too hard.

The only contact they had with the other heroes was through an encrypted phone they could only use while at work, where E.R.U.P.T. didn’t have eyes on them. The group of heroes mainly sent informal mission updates on how each of their roles were going, but gradually they began to send random messages and form inside jokes. Anchor was eventually added to the secret committee, and it took Y/N one work day to bully them into being their friend.

Having Anchor as a friend helped. They both sparred during their lunch hour—the other committee members, who were all members of local and federal government agencies, often stopped to watch and offer pointers. Y/N grew stronger steadily, learning more about who it was they were really fighting to take down, and the best ways to do so.

Still, the unsettling feeling that they were always being watched remained as the months progressed.

Even now, beneath the rubble and in the pockets of protected space they’d created for themselves among the 7 block area of destruction, Y/N knew the mission wasn’t complete, the work wasn’t finished. At the thought they closed the box of files in front of them, light shield glowing faintly stronger around them, as much as it could given the reduced light.

It would be over soon. They still had a part to play, needed to stay focused.

“Psst, Anchor!” Y/N glanced up with a smile to see Freeze appear in the small pocket of collapsed rubble they’d deemed the doorway of their enclosed space. Freeze was the one to go pocket to pocket, making sure everyone got their chance to get out to the main pocket and sleep for a while.

“Any word from above?” Anchor asked hopefully as they approached the doorway. Y/N scrambled to join them, greeting Freeze with a small wave.

Freeze nodded, grinning. “Actually, yes. Sorry to the both of you, but no nap times today. I’m here to tell you it’s time to mobilize, the rescue team will be here soon to secure the files and get us the hell out.”

Anchor let out an actual cheer and Y/N practically beamed, their quirk reacting to their relief.

Katsuki was somewhere up above, wrecking havoc. Y/N exhaled shakily and jumped up and down in place.

“Alright Anchor, let’s get fired up!” Y/N turned to the dozens of boxes laid out before them. “Time to make our grand reveal.”

—

“Can we hurry the fuck up and get these fuckers?”

Agent Moore and a few of the others around him chuckled. Katsuki rolled his shoulders and adjusted his cannons idly. Or rather, impatiently. He was about to open his mouth to ask what the hell was taking so long when Agent Moore gave the signal, and they all finally rushed out of the truck.

He let the familiarity of the chaos calm him down. It didn’t matter where he was or who he was fighting—he was damn good at his job, and he knew everyone else around him was, too. Scout was directing them all through their ear pieces, and several agents were around him already scooping up those he’d incapacitated, dragging them toward the awaiting prison transport vans.

“Dynamight, straight ahead and to your left,” Scout ordered before barking another order to someone else. Her quirk let her detect life sources within a five mile radius—and because she’d been able to hack into the E.R.U.P.T. compound’s security system, she was able to find her targets quicker and with heightened accuracy. She’d been stationed in the building a mile away from the compound, tasked with directing the team toward every member in the compound and making sure no one escaped.

Katsuki followed her instructions for what must have been an hour. There had been a few minor annoyances—some E.R.U.P.T. guy had a strong water quirk that pulled from the atmosphere around him, and another woman had freakishly good aim with her knives. They’d managed one good hit each on him before he’d been able to subdue them.

“Scout, we all good?” Agent Moore’s voice snapped Katsuki back into the present. He was helping handcuff the last of the cronies in his section of the compound. Comms had been quiet for a bit. Agent Moore was a few feet away, looking remarkably put together despite the fact that Katsuki had watched her tackle a man twice her size not ten minutes ago.

“One last one being secured outside near the rear exit,” Scout reported. “All clear, we got everyone in the compound.”

“Excellent work everyone,” Agent Moore grinned at those around her as she spoke into the ear piece. “I know quite a few of you want to head over to the rescue op, and we’ve gotten word they could use a hand. Truck leaves in ten minutes from the west exit, patch yourselves up at the first aid tent if you need it.”

She pointed at Katsuki and mouthed “first aid,” to him. He frowned, looking down at himself. There was a cut on his arm from the woman with the knives that was still bleeding a bit. Katsuki just nodded at her before breaking into a run, finding the nearest exit and following a handful of other pro heroes making their way toward the truck. Thankfully the first aid station was on the way—he swiped a bandage and some gauze before continuing to the truck, ignoring the string of protests from the triage nurses.

He hopped into the back of the truck and was quickly followed by Scout. She grinned manically at him, eyes bright with the activation of her quirk still going strong. “Can’t wait to punch Anchor in the face, little shit.”

Katsuki barked out a laugh as the truck started to move. He wrapped his arm tight as he talked. “They’re your boss, right?”

Scout nodded, settling into the seat across from him. “They couldn’t tell anyone where they were going,” she said, looking down at her hands in her lap. “Left me in charge of the agency while they were gone. I didn’t get to properly thank them for everything they taught me.” She looked up to meet Katsuki’s gaze, eyes glowing an even brighter green. “But it’s kind of an honor to get picked for this kind of thing, y’know? I don’t hate them for it as much anymore, knowing they trust me enough for this.”

Katsuki blinked before mumbling an agreement, and Scout got pulled into a conversation with another hero curious about her quirk.

The past day had been a blur—he hadn’t really thought too much on how he felt about everything that was happening. He’d been so focused on getting here, on finding out what really happened to Y/N, he hadn’t stopped to consider if this might be a bit of an awkward situation.

They broke up six months ago. Y/N left for a mission, was then presumed dead. But then it turns out they were totally fine and they were continuing the mission under the rubble, and had requested Katsuki to be part of this mission because they trusted him. What the fuck was he supposed to be feeling? Anger, like Scout? He didn't feel any anger at all.

No, not anger. Relief, that Y/N was okay, still fighting somewhere. That he would see them again soon.

Katsuki glanced outside the truck as they sped through traffic, the outskirts of the city flying by. He realized they were going much faster than when they’d left the compound. He turned quickly to face Scout again. “Are we going faster?”

Her eyes widened, and the hero next to her leaned over to shout a question at the driver.

“Potential breach at 7 Block site,” the driver shouted back at them. “We're ten minutes out.”

Scout stood up to stick her head out the window and Katsuki followed suit. The wind whipped his hair every which way as he looked out at the scene before them. They were nearing the rubble, it was visible even from this distance. Scouts eyes glowed green.

“We’re too far,” she shouted over the wind. “I can’t see anyone.”

The second the truck started to slow down a few minutes later, Katsuki kicked the back open and hopped out, Scout following and tugging him toward the makeshift command center, her eyes glowing an even brighter green. “I still don’t see them,” she said quietly.

The command center was a mess. Agents were scrambling around, loading what looked like boxes of files onto awaiting armored trucks. There was one person who seemed to be in charge of surveilling the entire scene, and he looked to be on the verge of tears when Scout offered her help.

“Dynamight?” someone asked, and he turned to see the Bubble guy from earlier a few feet away, pink bubbles floating boxes onto the trucks, his own arms full of boxes.

“What’s going on?” he asked, grabbing a stack of boxes near him, and carefully moving them onto the closet truck.

“E.R.U.P.T.’s core four found us,” Bubbles replied, jerking his chin to the left. “Modi was with them under a persuasion quirk and tried to shift into a few of the people on our side, almost got us. We’ve caught them all by now, but we’re trying to get this shit done in case we get any more surprises.” Katsuki looked to where he’d gestured and saw five people sitting on the ground in various states of restraint, three agents surrounding them.

“The boxes are a mix of the 7 Block intel files on E.R.U.P.T. that were being hidden below and the secret committee’s findings. Nothing was digitized in fear of a breach, so now we have to move all of this out and away before we can start cleaning up and rebuilding.”

“Our comms are down,” Bubbles continued. “So we haven’t been able to give the all clear to everyone or get a status on the last few heroes unaccounted for.”

“Is Aegis still down there?” He asked, setting down another stack of boxes. Bubbles nodded.

“They should be in the last section of rubble that hasn’t been collapsed yet, half a mile ahead.” He paused, facing him. “That’s the direction E.R.U.P.T.’s core four came from, but it’s been so crazy no one’s been able to go check on them again.”

Katsuki thanked him before running off in that direction. There were various agents and heroes around him securing the boxes of files, though only a handful were making their way toward the last section of rubble up ahead.

He really hoped there wouldn’t be any more surprises.

—

“I’ll be right back Aegis, sit tight.”

“Oh that’s very funny, Anchor, nice one,” Y/N couldn’t help the sarcasm, but it was worth the snark to see Anchor finally smile. “I’ll be fine, please take the last few boxes and send someone when you can.” Anchor nodded, patting their arm before grabbing the last two boxes they’d been tasked with guarding and running off in the direction of the command center.

Everything had been going fine—agents had come by and gotten most of their boxes out, Anchor and Y/N making quick work of passing them up and out from underground, verbally confirming each one contained the correct information. The agents had left them alone for a few minutes when the alert of a potential breach came over the comms—and someone had aimed a gun through the opening of rubble and shot at both of them.

Y/N had shoved Anchor out of the way, a forcefield shielding Anchor as they fell to the ground. The bullet had hit Y/N in the own leg as they put up another force field to cover themselves and scrambled out of the way. Y/N had thrown up a larger forcefield to block the next few shots, shouting in pain as their leg bled from the movement and exertion.

Anchor had carried Y/N and the last couple of boxes deeper into the rubble, collapsing the area around them as they moved with the release of their quirk. Thankfully the pathway to the next section hadn’t been collapsed yet, so they could still move freely for a few feet.

The extra movement had irritated Y/N’s wound until it was bleeding heavily. Anchor insisted they sit down while they tried to stop the bleeding, and while Y/N sat begrudgingly, they got to work carefully creating a pathway to the surface. It tanked the rest of their energy, but by the time Anchor was satisfied with their first aid efforts, there was a staircase to the surface, a small gap in the rubble created using Light Force.

No one shot at them again for five minutes, so they both deemed it safe enough to leave. It took careful maneuvering, but eventually they both made it out, intel boxes in tow. Anchor carried Y/N to a relatively big piece of crumbled building and settled them against it as they tightened their makeshift bandage around their leg, which was created using a torn piece of Anchor’s shirt.

Y/N had spent the last fifteen minutes convincing Anchor to leave them there, hidden among the rubble on the surface, and take the intel boxes to the command center and send someone back for them. “The bullet went through and through, so all things considered this is the best case scenario!” Y/N had beamed at Anchor, literally, to display the effect of the sunshine all around them on their quirk. “It’s so sunny up here Anchor, I’ll be fine. You can’t carry the boxes, help me walk, and defend us if E.R.U.P.T. is still up here. Please go.”

Anchor had finally agreed, and now Y/N sat amongst the rubble they’d been hiding under for the past two days, face upturned toward the sun.

Despite the wound in their leg, they felt significantly better than they had in a few weeks. This was the final portion of the mission—after the rebuilding phase, they could go home.

A jolt of panic shot through them. Home. Back to the Genius Office, back to being a pro in the public eye, back to potentially interacting with Katsuki.

Katsuki. Was he here, helping with the rescue op? Y/N groaned and covered their face with their hands. Maybe choosing him as their trusted person wasn’t the best decision. It had just seemed like such an obvious choice at the time. Or maybe the blood loss was starting to get to them. They hadn’t slept much during the two days spent underground, either.

The sound of rubble shifting a few feet away, behind the building they were hiding behind, startled them back into reality. Light Force glowed around Y/N, the familiar light calming them as they tightened their makeshift bandage around their leg, biting back a pained groan.

Shifting as quietly as possible, getting ready to fight. Wiping the blood off their hands, panic flowing into adrenaline, their breathing evening out. The familiarity of putting their life on the line creating a dull buzz throughout their body, mixing with the adrenaline.

The rubble shifted again, closer, and Y/N stood as quietly as they could, leaning further back into the corner of the collapsed building they were hiding behind, ready to fight. They remembered the training Anchor and the agents had given them and willed Light Force to form a jagged, pointed ball in front of them, holding it in place with their hands, waiting for a fight.

—

Katsuki quite literally ran into Anchor on his way to the rubble site.

“Oh fuck shit fuck,” Anchor had immediately leaped away from them, eyes wide, before quietly whispering “stop,” and Katsuki froze.

He couldn’t move, and he realized running into Anchor had activated their quirk on him. They’d come out of nowhere, running out from an alley as Katsuki continued his jog toward the rubble site Y/N was supposed to be at.

And now he was here, frozen, unable to tell Anchor the E.R.U.P.T. core four and Modi had been captured already.

Anchor was holding two case file boxes and studying him closely, walking around him in a circle.

“Where’d you get that?” they demanded, pointing at Katsuki’s belt.

Katsuki gasped as he felt feeling come back into his face. It felt like his nerves had fallen asleep. “My keychain?” he asked. “Best Jeanist gave it to me. Listen, I’m not Modi, the threats have been neutralized.”

He stumbled as feeling returned to his entire body at once, cursing as he regained his balance on a piece of fallen building.

Anchor sighed in relief and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, had to be sure. Nice thinking with the keychain! Y/N’s up ahead behind a huge piece of what used to be a drug store, they got shot through the leg, upper thigh. Somewhat stabilized the wound, but they need a doctor. Do you want me to—”

Katsuki jumped back onto the clear path of road he was following before Anchor could continue. He heard them laugh behind him and waved a hand in the air as thanks.

He could see the piece of the drug store building a couple of minutes later. He had to slow to a walk as he climbed over rubble, the path no longer as linear but still obviously constructed by someone as the buildings had collapsed.

As Katsuki got closer, he tried to move faster. Y/N could have passed out by now for fuck’s sake. And they didn’t know when help was coming—or that E.R.U.P.T. was no longer a threat. He moved further away from the huge piece of rubble at that thought, deciding distance would be best in case Y/N was readying for a fight.

“Don’t take another step.”

He froze, both at the threat and at the sight in front of him.

Y/N was leaning against the side of the collapsed drug store, Light Force glowing around them brighter than he’d ever seen. Hovering in front of them, between them and Katsuki, was a ball of light jaggedly formed into a ball, sharp edges a few inches from his chest.

He’d never seen Y/N use their quirk like this before, had never seen Y/N like this before. They were in civilian clothes, wearing a jean jacket Katsuki knew had been a gift from Tsunagu, and had a makeshift bandage tied around their thigh, blood staining half of their pant leg. Light Force glowed brightly around them, and the jagged ball in front of him inched forward as Y/N stood up straighter, studying him.

“Don’t fuck with me right now, Modi,” Y/N snapped, eyes narrowed. “Snap out of whatever quirk they’ve got you under, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Katsuki slowly extended his hands in front of him, watching as the jagged ball hovered closer with his movements. “Y/N, it’s me. Modi’s been caught, along with the rest of E.R.U.P.T. It’s over.”

Y/N shook their head, stretching out their hand in front of them. The jagged ball hovered closer until it was an inch from Katsuki’s chest.

“You’re lying,” Y/N said quietly. “Katsuki’s—” they faltered, trailing off as their gaze flicked down toward Katsuki’s belt.

A matching Best Jeanist keychain hung from Y/N’s own belt loop—a matching set they’d both been gifted on their first day working at the Best Jeanist agency. Y/N always kept it on them, jokingly telling Katsuki it was their good luck charm. He started to clip his keychain to his pants too, tucking it into a pocket to keep it safe, reaching in to feel the familiar denim whenever he needed a quiet moment of peace, of relief in knowing Y/N kept theirs close, too.

“It’s you.” Y/N said, eyes wide. “You’re really here.”

They dropped their outstretched hand, and all signs of Light Force flickered once before disappearing as Y/N slid down the wall, their strength leaving them.

Katsuki rushed forward to wrap them up in his arms, carefully cradling their head to his shoulder. “It’s me,” he mumbled into their hair, leaning back to kiss their forehead. “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered as Katsuki carefully picked them up, slipping his hands underneath their legs and under their back as he lifted them up away from the rubble. They reached up to wrap their hands around his neck, fingers gently sliding across his throat. He shivered, leaning forward to kiss their forehead again as he began to carefully make his way back the way he came, trying not to jostle Y/N too much in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said again, tears flowing down their face, leaving clean streaks through the dust that coated their cheeks. “I couldn’t tell you, I had to lie. I’m so sorry, Katsuki.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yes I do,” Y/N said quietly. “I had to leave you. And then I picked you to come here despite everything. It’s shitty.”

“Maybe a little,” Katsuki said, huffing out a laugh at Y/N’s small smile. “But I don’t care. And neither should you.”

Y/N’s head dropped onto his shoulder suddenly and he looked down to see their eyes were fluttering closed. “Y/N, stay awake, damnit. Fucking hell.”

He started walking faster, finding the relatively smooth path he’d followed earlier. Agents were moving up ahead. “Hey, help!” he screamed. “I need help!”

Spotting him, the agents shouted to each other and one drove a truck to meet him halfway. He climbed into the back, gently sitting Y/N down and taking their hand as the truck started to move.

Dazed, he realized there was a paramedic in there with them, and he shifted to avoid being in their way as they began to rewrap Y/N’s bandage. He answered the paramedic’s questions as best as he could. Katsuki took the bandage they offered him, replaced the one on his arm quickly, and gently took Y/N’s hand again once he was finished.

He wasn’t sure how long they were in the truck before they arrived at a hospital, and Y/N was moved to an awaiting stretcher and ushered inside. The paramedic who was in the truck with him sat him down in a waiting area after he watched the team of doctors take Y/N deeper into the hospital, to a place he knew he couldn’t follow. His arm was properly disinfected and rewrapped, and then he was left alone.

Katsuki leaned forward and put his head in his hands, the day's events rushing through his mind at once. The blood on Y/N’s leg, on their hands, the fierce look in their eyes, the exhaustion that overtook them the second they knew they were safe. Their tearful whispered apologies.

He let out a long, shaky exhale, trying to steady his breathing and calm his nerves. Now all he could do was wait.

—

Y/N woke to the feeling of someone holding their hand.

They blinked the blurriness out of their eyes, turning toward the sound of a familiar voice.

“Katsuki?” they winced and cleared their throat, frowning at how dry their mouth was.

A cup of ice chips appeared before them and Y/N smiled, gently taking the cup with their free hand and tipping an ice chip into their mouth, letting it dissolve on their tongue as they took in their surroundings.

Katsuki was sitting on a chair by their bed, holding their hand in his. He’d changed out of his hero costume and was wearing one of his go-to his civilian outfits Y/N recognized from when they used to work together. They could see his keychain peeking out from beneath his shirt as he shifted closer to them.

The hospital room was small, the lights were dimmed. Y/N hummed as they tipped another ice chip into their mouth, setting the cup down in their lap. “Thank you.”

Katsuki scoffed and Y/N turned to face him again. He was frowning slightly at them.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said, squeezing their hand gently.

Y/N mimicked his pout and reveled in the small smile it got out of him. It was still so easy to tease him, even after their time apart.

Katsuki opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door. A doctor poked her head in before fully entering the room, a nurse trailing behind her.

Y/N heard her say “full recovery” and only half listened to the rest of what she was saying, focusing on the feel of their hand in Katsuki’s. The nurse fussed about them, checking their IV and their bandage before they followed the doctor out of the room, leaving them alone again.

“I brought you something,” Katsuki said, reaching into his pocket with his free hand. He set down Y/N’s keychain on the bed near their joined hands.

Y/N laughed wetly, blinking tears out of their eyes as they reached over to grab the keychain. It was dirty and had definitely seen better days, but the familiar denim feel made them remember simpler times. Laughs with Katsuki after long days spent patrolling and working cases, falling asleep on the couch together.

“You left me signs and I didn’t notice them. I’m sorry for being a dumbass.”

Y/N laughed, wiping at their tears. “I guess we’re both sorry, then.”

Katsuki squeezed their hand again, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, guess so.”

Y/N settled back against the pillow, suddenly very aware of how tired they felt.

“Sleep,” Katsuki said softly. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” Y/N smiled at that, eyes slowly drooping with sleep.

“And I want to know how the hell you did that thing with Light Force,” Katsuki said, the last thing Y/N heard before they let sleep take them.

—

“Hey Y/N, it’s me. I’m on my lunch right now. Still on light duty even though I’ve been back from the states for a week. I think Jiro is fucking with me and trying to get me to admit I’m exhausted. Which I am. The rebuilding phase was fucking exhausting. Call me back when you can.”

“Sorry I missed your call, Katsuki! I am also on light duty. Tsunagu was outraged to learn I was allowed to help with rebuilding, I’m sure you can imagine his expression when I told him. He really loved the new jeans we picked out for him, though. I’ll call you later!”

*

“Y/N, where the fuck is my sweater? The red one with the half zip. I know you took it. Give it back before I sue you. See you for dinner later, loser.”

“Katsuki, I have no idea what sweater you’re referring to. I’ve literally never seen it before. Also I’m bringing chocolate cake over for dinner because I can, deal with it.”

*

“Good fucking morning, I assume you’re still sleeping. Get up, you know you’re supposed to move out by the end of the day. I’ll be over in a few hours to help get all the boxes out. Love you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping, Katsuki, I was packing up my kitchen and then realized you were never going to accept any of my pots or pans because I always buy cheap ones. So I left them out on the curb. See you soon loser, love you.”

*

“Hey, I know we’re supposed to be off doing our own thing today before tomorrow, but I miss you, and I think I’m a little drunk. Denki’s been crying all night and I think it’s contagious. Love you.”

“I’m also a little drunk, I think! I also really miss you, which is stupid because it’s just one night away before we literally are together forever. But I miss my partner! Hah, I said the p word. Love ya, loser. Can’t wait to marry you tomorrow.”

masterlist

The further away from the triage area they went, the more civilians Y/N encountered. All were well enough to walk away on their own after being minimally healed thanks to their quirk. They were careful to stay within their limits and heal just enough to wake up those they found unconscious.

A crackle on their radio brought them pause behind a building. “The sleeping gas quirk was confirmed to be in quadrant C, three blocks south of the triage center near the main shopping area. Any friendlies in the area please proceed with caution and radio for help if necessary with your location. Y/N quickly dug through their medical bag to pull out a gas mask the pros had been passing out early on, courtesy of Creati. Only one extra, Y/N thought as they peeked behind the building and continued checking inside the shops. I’ll need to go back to the triage center after I find the next civilian.

They heard a loud crash, and on they hurried inside one of the abandoned shops, a cute cafe they’d actually been meaning to visit. Every window was shattered, so there went that plan. Y/N cautiously looked outside and saw one of the villains heading away from them, his hands crackling with purple electricity. Y/N tried their radio and found it was completely silent, not even static emitting from it. Communications were down.

Y/N quickly exited, about to head back to the triage area, when they heard a low groan. They whirled around, body tensing in preparation to be kidnapped or electrocuted—only to see someone laying on the ground on the sidewalk, gas mask broken beside them.

He groaned again, coughing slightly before turning his head to stare at Y/N, eyes clouded with confusion. Then his eyes fluttered close, and Y/N finally recognized him.

It was Grand—the radio reports had been him in quadrant B when Y/N had left the triage center. Had he been thrown all the way over here somehow? Or had the villain dumped him here before going back to join the fight?

It doesn’t matter at this point, Y/N chided to themselves, kneeling by his side and wincing at the gashes in his side and cuts all along his face and arms. His entire bare torso was covered in blood—Y/N could barely make out where his injuries were. This was more than their quirk, which could heal only minor injuries depending on their energy level, could handle, even if they maxed out.

Y/N tried the radio again. “This is paramedic Y/N, I have pro hero Grand here with me on Sixth Avenue in quadrant C, critically injured. Does anyone…” The radio only crackled with static.

Cursing, Y/N tucked it back into their pocket and got to work, muscle memory and countless hours of training and experience kicking in, fear and adrenaline a buzz in the background. They healed Grand’s scraped hands, hoping if he needed to use his quirk soon, he could at least do it a bit more comfortably. They wrapped Grand’s deeper cuts along his arms and bandaged the gashes on his torso, hands flying from the medical bag and back to him. When they were done, they carefully placed the extra gas mask over his face, and sat back, packing up the medical bag and slinging it back over their shoulders.

Now what? They couldn’t move him by themselves the entire way back to the triage area—his injuries prevented that option. Too much movement and he might start bleeding out.

Y/N glanced around for something to slide him onto to act as a makeshift stretcher , so they could carefully drag him a few streets back to the first aid tent, when they realized that they were staring right at a perfectly unperturbed car that was somehow still parked on the curb.

Using a scalpel, Y/N turned the ignition, praying it would turn on. The engine obliged and Y/N let out a quiet sigh of relief before carefully driving it closer to Grand, backing up until the backseat door was right beside him. They hurried out of the car and checked his injuries again, terrified that he’d bleed out before he could even get into the car.

The blood had stopped flowing as freely thanks to the tight wrapping of the bandages and gauze, and he was even starting to regain consciousness, his eyes fluttering open to stare at them as they hooked their arms underneath his to try and lift him into the car.

“What…” he hissed in pain, strong arms gripping onto Y/N’s as they both moved into the backseat, Y/N lowering him carefully onto themselves. In a different situation this would have been awkward—cradling a stranger and lowering them onto you in the backseat of a car. Y/N wiggled out from underneath him just in time as he collapsed back onto the seat, panting.

“Alright, you’re okay,” Y/N breathed through the gas mask, gently detaching his arms from theirs. “I know that took a lot of strength, but please don’t pass out.” He nodded, half lidded eyes meeting theirs, and Y/N hurriedly climbed out of the back of the car, closed the doors, and got into the driver's seat. “Apply pressure to your wounds if you can, please. I’m sorry I can’t do it myself.” As they shifted into drive they heard a sharp inhale from the backseat, telling them Grand had been able to do as they said.

There wasn’t much rubble, but it still took a bit of time to carefully maneuver around the destroyed streets and maintain a safe speed so they didn’t hit any civilians heading toward safety, or shift the car enough for Grand to roll off the backseat. He was relatively quiet, but every time Y/N turned around to check on him he met their gaze.

Soon Y/N was pulling onto the street that had at this point been transformed into a makeshift hospital and climbing out of the car with their hands up to show the police enforcing the perimeter they weren’t a villain. The blood covered hands didn’t help, but soon officers were helping carry Grand out of the car and into an ambulance, where one of Y/N’s coworkers was already scrambling to get into the drivers seat so they could head to the hospital. Y/N climbed in and slammed the doors shut, the ambulance moving as soon as they did.

Y/N tore of their gas mask and moved to replace Grand’s with an oxygen mask, the siren turning on the second they did so. They hooked Grand up to an IV and formally took his vitals. “I’ll give you something for the pain, okay? Hang in there.”

After the drugs had been pushed Y/N applied pressure to his biggest wound. Grand inhaled sharply but didn’t say anything. His eyes were still focused on them. Y/N felt the day beginning to catch up with them—eventful shifts like this were rare, and they hardly if ever headed straight into the action.

“Hey.”

Y/N snapped their gaze away from the monitor of Grand’s vitals to see he’d lifted the oxygen away from his face slightly to speak. “You’re cute.” Was he smiling?

“Put that back on,” Y/N ordered, gently pushing his hand back down and readjusting the mask, keeping their other hand firmly on his torso. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Grand mumbled, his eyes still trained on Y/N. “Very good, actually.”

“You almost just died,” Y/N said, exasperated, glancing out the small window to see the road. Just a few streets to get to the hospital.

“But you saved me,” he said, letting out a low laugh. “I thought I’d died and you were an angel coming to take me away.” Y/N wrinkled their nose slightly. Was he flirting?

“Are you hitting on me?” they asked incredulously. “Now?”

“You look cute… when you’re worried,” Grand said, his eyelids fluttering as he spoke. Y/N used their free hand to gently tap his cheek in an attempt to keep him awake.

“Don’t waste energy,” they said. “No talking.”

He smiled through the oxygen mask, eyes still focused entirely on Y/N, who was surprised he hadn’t passed out from the pain, blood loss, or just plain exhaustion yet.

They arrived at the hospital, and Y/N quickly stood to help push him out of the ambulance when he gripped their hands with surprising force, stopping the awaiting doctors and Y/N’s coworker outside the ambulance.

“Don’t leave me,” he said, eyes wide. Y/N remembered the way he had lost consciousness right as he’d spotted them on the street, the grip of his hands on their arms as he was pulled into the car. The blood that covered both of them. Y/N nodded, keeping their hand on his as he was ushered out of the ambulance and into the hospital.

In an instant nurses and doctors were crowded around him, and as Y/N rattled off his vitals and the extent of his injuries, they were gently maneuvered out of the way by their coworker and a nearby nurse, Grand’s hand slipping out of their grasp. Y/N jogged beside the small team that had assembled around him, continuing their report as an excuse to stay near him.

They rounded the corner and Y/N slowed to a stop, watching as Grand was pushed into the awaiting elevator. As the doors closed, he raised his head slightly to look at Y/N one last time, his eyes crinkling in a smile.

“He’ll be okay.” Y/N jumped at the voice, turning to see their coworker. “Your shift is over, captain wanted me to relay that. So if you want to stay, you can. I have to head back.” Y/N waved as he left.

A passing woman gave them a weird glance as they found a seat in the waiting area, and Y/N realized they were covered in Grand’s blood. Not exactly a reassuring sight in a hospital.

They cleaned themselves up as best as they could in the bathroom, contemplating whether or not they should stay until he got out of surgery. But even after that, he wouldn't wake up until tomorrow. Adrenaline wearing off, their hands shook as they scrubbed at their hands in the sink, watching the blood fade.

Y/N left the front desk nurse with their contact information and a message for Grand and headed home, eager to just fall asleep after such a tiring shift. The taxi ride to their apartment was a blur. They checked their phone to see a text from their captain. Take the day off tomorrow Y/N. Get some rest.

Sleeping in had never seemed like a better idea.

—

The loud, insistent buzzing of a phone call woke them up the next morning. Their alarm clock read 8:12 am. Unable to shake the grogginess from their voice, Y/N answered the phone with a tired “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?”

Suddenly feeling very awake, Y/N rolled into a sitting position, breath hitching in their throat as they recognized the voice. “Yes.”

“Thanks for your note,” Grand said, his voice quiet and a bit raspy, as though he had also just woken up.

“Of course,” Y/N replied quickly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up. And that I had to leave you. Protocols and all.”

They heard Grand laugh softly. “That’s okay. I wanted to say thank you. For everything.”

“Of course!” Y/N was not used to being thanked in such a direct way—usually the people they helped in the back of the ambulance weren’t hyper aware of where they were and hardly ever talked to them. “How did your surgery go, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Doctors told me it went well, I should be healed up and back in action in a few weeks. I think you found me just in time,” he paused. “My gas mask broke when I got thrown onto that street—I was passing out when I saw you.”

Y/N made a quiet noise of surprise. So close to being a horrible situation. “I’m glad I was there.”

“Me too,” he said quietly. Then another pause, before—“I can’t leave for a bit, but when I’m cleared, do you want to grab a drink? Y’know, so I can thank you properly in person.”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Y/N smiled. “It’d be nice to talk to you when you’re conscious.”

Grand laughed again, making Y/N’s heart flutter. How was he doing this to them without even being near them?

“Can’t wait. I’ll call you later, my boss just got here and she looks worried. See you.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead, and Y/N collapsed back onto their bed, smiling into the covers.

The sleepover had not started out as an actual sleepover. Y/N had invited Hanta over because they were both busy cramming for upcoming finals, and Hanta’s apartment was not the best place to cram. He loved his roommates—truly, he did. Just not as much during finals season. Y/N always offered him refuge in their apartment, because somehow they had gotten lucky enough to snag the studio apartments before everyone else and had the added privilege of having relatively nice, quiet neighbors. Hanta hid from the noise that was his apartment complex here more often than he should, but Y/N never seemed to mind too much.

They sat at Y/N’s kitchen table in comfortable silence, their laptops and various notes spread out around them. They had not moved from their spot in a while, and finally Hanta felt his eyes start to tear up from staring at his laptop screen for too long, so he decided he had had enough for the night. He closed down all of his tabs and failed to hold back a strangled noise of surprise when he noticed the time.

“It’s one in the morning.”

Y/N’s reaction was delayed, only eliciting a small noise of acknowledgement that Hanta had spoken at first. Then they snapped their head up from their work, eyes wide. “One?”

Normally, staying up this late was a normal occurrence—especially when it was the two of them together, and they were hyper-focused on studying. But it was the last day of dead week, meaning that they had to be ready to take their first exams in roughly ten hours.

“Shit,” Hanta cursed, quickly putting away his notes, stacking them into one pile. “Sleep. Now.”

Y/N laughed a little as they also hurried to put away their notes and shut down their laptop. They both scurried around the apartment; Y/N to their room to file things away, and Hanta into the living room area to find his backpack. His apartment should have quieted down by now, since it was quite literally the day of finals.

“You can stay here!” Y/N called from their room. “I already pulled out your futon.”

Hanta wilted with relief, nearly dropping his backpack at the door. He set it back against the couch and walked over to Y/N’s room, yawning with sleep he had not been aware of ten minutes ago.

Y/N was already snuggled under the warm comfort of their covers, and right beside their bed was the spare futon that was basically Hanta’s at this point. He had arrived to the study session in his pajamas and had done his nightly routine a few hours ago (shamelessly borrowing Y/N’s face wash) so he quickly snuggled under his own blanket and turned to face Y/N, like he always did when he slept over.

They were already drifting off, but were also facing him and smiled when he turned to stare. “Your exam is at 10, right?”

Hanta nodded. “Yours at 11?”

Y/N nodded and yawned again. “Good luck.”

“Good luck,” he echoed, moving the blanket up to hide his smile of endearment. Y/N was always cute, but sleepy Y/N was on a different level.

Yes, Hanta had a massive crush on his friend. He had come to terms with it a few months ago, when they both started hanging out more and getting closer. Hanta did not mind the unrequited feelings too much. Sleeping over was not a big help, but he did not want to ruin the friendship they had, so he decided it was a worthy sacrifice to his efforts of getting over his feelings.

“Can I tell you something?” Y/N asked, blinking at him. Hanta stifled a small laugh. He knew Y/N always had the tendency to get honest moments before they drifted off to sleep. The first time it had happened, they had shared that they had been the ones to accidentally drop Bakugo’s bamboo toothbrush onto the floor and then quickly wash it with soap (which Bakugo tasted later that day and was very mad about). Denki had taken the blame, and Y/N had never come clean as a form of revenge for all of the times Denki had eaten the last of their cookie stash whenever he was at their apartment.

“Of course you can,” Hanta replied, adjusting so his head was propped up in his chin and he could see Y/N better.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Hanta almost dropped back down onto his pillow. “You said you were going to tell me something, not ask me something,” Hanta said, successfully recovering and managing to not stutter. Stay cool, Hanta.

Y/N blinked at him again, apparently now more awake and willing to engage in a conversation.

“I’ve never been in love,” they said. “What’s it like?”

Hanta gave up on trying to maintain eye level and snuggled back under his covers, leaving only his eyes uncovered to hide his blushing cheeks. This really was not helping him with getting over his feelings.

“Dunno. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love, either.”

“Really?” Y/N seemed surprised. “Haven’t you dated anyone, like before I met you?”

They had only met last year, in their second year of university. Y/N had never asked him about these things. Sleep deprivation must have made them more curious, and maybe a tad bit more blunt and daring.

“No,” Hanta answered truthfully, still hiding under his blanket.

“You were supposed to be, like, the wise one in this,” Y/N said, rolling around in their bed as they said it. Hanta laughed at their reaction.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“No! Never apologize,” Y/N whirled around to face him again, eyes considerably more drowsy than before. Sleep was overtaking them. Hanta wondered how long they would keep talking before Y/N passed out.

“It’s just,” Y/N sighed, now turning to face the ceiling. “I want to fall in love. I want to know what it feels like for your heart to hurt when you’re not around someone, what it feels like to dance in the rain with someone, to stay up for hours just to spend time with them. You know?” They turned to face Hanta again.

He did not know what to say to that. This must have been the most honest Y/N had ever been with him, about this topic, anyway. They had never really spoken about this before.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”

“Even heartbreak sounds just so full of love, because that just means the love was so deep and real that it hurts when the person causing it isn’t there anymore,” Y/N’s blinks were slowing down now, signaling they were very close to sleep. “Dunno, it just seems…nice.”

And with that, they were asleep.

Leaving Hanta wide awake, staring up at them. Peacefully sleeping and blissfully unaware of what they had just done to him, of the plan he was now forming.

He spent the next hour making a list on his phone. Specifics would come later, when the sun was up and he was not driven by nerves and adrenaline like was now.

One point done, more to go.

—

2. Spend lots of quality time together - basically done?

Finals disrupted much of Hanta’s next point that he had written down, but not as much as he would have previously thought. Now that he had decided to let his crush take hold of him and do his best to woo Y/N, he was realizing how much their friendship had evolved, and how much he had neglected to notice the things that made it more special. He had ignored this in favor of trying to squash his crush, but after embracing it, he now understood why it had formed in the first place.

He and Y/N just fit in each other's lives so easily. They understood each other, probably better than anyone else. And Hanta had been downplaying their relationship for weeks—Y/N was easily his best friend (something Denki would be devastated to learn, seeing as he was the one who always proclaimed himself as Hanta’s BFF).

His second point on his list was spending lots of time together, which was relatively easy, because they already did it so much in the first place. Their friends overlapped, which was the reason they even met in the first place, and the reason they grew to be so close and spend so much time together. Even final exams didn’t keep them apart for very long.

Y/N often realized they had sleepily confessed something, and confronted Hanta about it the next morning. This had not been the case this time, because Y/N had gone off to their exam before Hanta had even woken up. He had been nervous about how they would react later on, but he hoped for the best, trying to stay optimistic.

He had not expected Y/N to be there after his exam, holding a matcha and a hesitant smile on their face as they waved at him from the bench just outside the building.

It was impossible to keep the smile off his face. “Hey, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“My exam ended a little while ago, so I decided to stick around and wait for you,” Y/N replied, handing him his drink. “How’d it go?”

They both walked idly through campus in the general direction back to Y/N’s apartment, probably a bit subconsciously. This was their routine every Thursday, when they had a class that ended at the same time in the same vicinity of one another. Still, Hanta knew why Y/N had come to find him. But the addition of the matcha latte was a very nice touch that left him jittery with happiness and butterflies.

“So,” Y/N started as they left campus and began the walk through the residential areas, back to Y/N’s apartment. “The latte is an apology drink, since I remember I overshared last night.”

“No need to apologize,” Hanta quickly replied, nudging them with his shoulder as they walked. “I basically overshared too. Anyway, what are besties for?”

Y/N nudged him back. “Have I replaced Denki?” They were smiling at him, and it made Hanta’s own grin widen.

“Don’t tell him I said that. Anyway, I’ll take you up on that.” He took a sip from his drink, nervous of where this would leave him. Had he planned this? Absolutely not. But he decided to be a little daring. Maybe it was the matcha giving him bravery.

“On what?” Y/N asked, turning to look at him.

“Fall in love. With me, I mean.”

Y/N stopped walking, and Hanta turned to face them.

His plan would never work if Y/N wasn’t aware of it. It would have been a bit odd if he started doing all of these romantic things with no explanation, and it would have ultimately led to a failed plan. Hanta had decided last night he did not want to try and hide his feelings anymore—and he had, for once, decided to listen to the constant teasing of his friends. They had been saying he and Y/N were practically an old married couple for weeks now, but he’d waved them off because he thought they were poking fun at his crush.

Seeing Y/N after his exam had made him decide maybe they were right, and had convinced him that the plan he’d made last night was worth a shot. That he was ready to talk about this.

“What? Are you messing with me?” Y/N asked, an accusatory tone surfacing. “Not funny, Hanta.”

“I’m not!” Hanta quickly replied. “I promise.”

They stared him down, narrowing their eyes in thought.

Despite knowing each other for only a year, they knew each other. Hanta wasn’t lying, and he knew Y/N could tell. And some realization came into their eyes, followed by embarrassment as they hid their face in their hands.

“Oh my fuck,” Y/N practially shouted, laughing up at the sky. “How did you know before I did?”

Hanta smiled again, cheerily linking his arm through Y/N’s as they contained walking. “I did say we were besties, didn’t I?”

—

3. Go on dates

“Why are you here?”

Hanta pouted before walking past Y/N into their apartment. “Rude, much?

Y/N closed their door and followed Hanta, sitting beside him on the couch. “You know that’s not what I meant. It’s summer now, don’t you always head back home for a week after finals?”

Most of his friends stayed on campus for the summer, either to work or to take classes. Hanta was no exception, though he did usually go home for at least a week, as Y/N remembered.

“I’ll be going back home in a few months,” Hanta explained. “My family has a long list of weddings and events to attend, and you know I’d much rather avoid nosy relatives asking when I’ll start dating and instead actively get you to start dating me.”

Y/N threw a pillow at his face at that, which Hanta easily dodged as he laughed. His mom had freed him of the obligation of attending the family events since he wasn’t very close to any of the relatives hosting them, and his room was currently occupied by visiting cousins. That said, he was expected to call her twice as much (she knew he had more free time now) and to visit before the fall semester started.

Hanta planned to take advantage of this summer as much as he could. It was shaping up to be much better than the last one. This time he wasn’t buried in classwork—his summer class schedule was much more manageable, and he had a part time job he liked. The best part was Y/N, of course.

Since the acknowledgement of the feelings they both had for each other, their relationship had taken a small, almost unnoticeable turn. They both noticed, of course. The thin layer of caution they had acted with earlier was gone. Now Hanta unabashedly stared at Y/N when they were doing simple tasks, replying to their questioning stares with “You’re just so pretty.” And Y/N was no better—constantly sneaking glances at Hanta when he changed into his pajamas in their apartment and telling him he had very nice hands whenever they laid down to fall asleep (holding hands).

Slow, tiny steps. Toward his next thing on the list: dates.

“I thought we could spend the day together,” Hanta said, turning to look at Y/N on the couch. They were already looking at him and smiled when their eyes met.

“Okay. What should we do?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” he replied, still not looking away from them. “The first activity of the day is of course watching a movie.”

After some discussion, Y/N quickly got dressed to head out for the movie theater downtown. It was a sequel to another action movie that they had seen years ago, and Hanta had been waiting for finals to be over before watching it. He slipped his hand into theirs on the walk over and smiled when they glanced over at him. They’d held hands before—just last night they had, right before falling asleep. But they both knew this time was different. Y/N lightly squeezed his hand and swung their arms back and forth as they walked, laughing quietly enough for only the two of them to hear.

The movie was very action filled, which kept them so energized they decided to head to a nearby arcade afterwards. Hanta was excellent at arcade games, Y/N quickly realized. He won them both a lot of prizes, and they left the arcade with a bag full of miscellaneous items and matching plushies.

From there, they wandered around the shops downtown, stopping to get ice cream and then finally sitting down at a bench. Only then did Hanta realize how tired he was. He turned his head to ask Y/N if they were also tired, only to find them already facing him.

“Yeah, let’s go back,” Hanta laughed, intertwining their fingers and pulling Y/N off of the bench.

When they reached Y/N’s apartment, they moved to walk in and pull Hanta inside along with them. But he gently slid his hand out of theirs. The reaction was immediate—Y/N turned to glance behind them, a questioning look in their eyes and the slightest frown on their lips.

“I can’t sleep here every night,” he teased. “I still pay rent for my real apartment, you know.”

Y/N narrowed his eyes at him in mock hurt. “Yeah, yeah.” They mumbled something else before waving and moving to close the door.

“What was that?” Hanta asked, a smile growing on his face as he stuck his foot out just before the door closed. He was having too much fun, but he couldn’t help it.

Y/N avoided his gaze. “Hmm? Nothing.”

“No, I heard you say something,” he said, unable to keep the teasing tone out of his voice.

“I said I’ll miss you,” Y/N huffed, before successfully slamming the door shut to avoid looking at him.

“See you tomorrow!” Hanta cheerfully called, laughing at Y/N’s embarrassed knocks to let him know they had heard him.

—

4. Dance in the rain

Hanta patiently waited for summer rain, knowing it would come.

His patience was wearing pretty thin until it finally started to rain while he was walking back from his shift. Letting out a small yell of excitement, he changed course and ran back to campus, where he knew Y/N was currently in class.

They had not had the chance to see each other all week, resorting to texting instead. Classes had started, so things got a bit more hectic and they had not found out the best way to balance everything just yet. After this week it would even out, he was sure of this. Still, he had missed Y/N more than he realized. The rain reminded him of that.

He waited outside of Y/N’s classroom, watching the rain steadily get heavier. Soon students started filing out, a few actually pulling out umbrellas. Y/N was the last to leave, and Hanta didn’t miss the soft look in their eyes when they saw the rain, and how their gaze seemed to only grow fonder when they realized he was outside, waiting for them.

“Hi,” they said, taking his outstretched hand. “What’re you doing here?”

“It’s raining,” Hanta said, as though that would make everything clear. Y/N smiled at him in confusion.

“Yes.”

Hanta tugged their hand in protest of their teasing, earning a laugh. “Your backpack is waterproof, right?” It wasn’t pouring, thankfully, which made Hanta’s plan much easier.

“Yes,” Y/N said again, realizing what he was saying. “Hanta, wait—”

He was already pulling them along, out from underneath the protection of the overhead roof and into the rain. Y/N laughed and didn’t pull away, instead pulling him further out until they were running hand in hand in the direction of Y/N’s apartment.

Not exactly dancing, but not exactly not dancing. They leapt over bigger puddles and stopped sometimes to catch their breath before tugging each other along, clothes and skin damp from the sprinkling rain and laughing the entire way.

Hanta had always loved the rain, but this made him love it even more.

When they made it to Y/N’s apartment the rain had stopped and the sun had started to peak out from behind the clouds. They both quickly changed out of their wet clothes and collapsed onto Y/N’s couch, leaning onto each other and still laughing a little.

“That was on your list?” Y/N asked, leaning their head against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around them and pulled them in closer, hoping they did not notice the way his heart was pounding.

“Of course,” he said. “You mentioned it, remember?”

Y/N slipped their hand into his, tracing circles onto the back of his hand. “Yeah. I also mentioned staying up late, didn’t I? Are you crossing that one off today, too?”

“Anything for you,” Hanta replied, kissing the top of their head. “Except, not the heartbreak part. I physically cannot do that to you.”

Y/N made a noise of surprise before burying their face in his neck, moving so they were practically sitting in his lap. “You’re so sappy.”

Hanta laughed, wrapping both his arms around their waist and sitting them fully in his lap. “I know.”

—

5. Stay up together and cuddle

Hanta did end up sleeping over that day. He also decided to share the rest of his list with Y/N.

He got ready for bed in their bathroom, smiling to himself as he looked around and saw how present he was in Y/N’s life. They had a toothbrush for him there, the hair ties he used sometimes, and his damp clothes had been hung to dry.

He walked back to Y/N’s room, ready to get comfortable on his futon. Only to realize it was not there, and Y/N was already in bed.

They patted the spot next to them, and Hanta needed no further convincing. He snuggled up beside them, reaching out to wrap his arms around them and press his cold feet against their warm legs. Y/N laughed and playfully shoved him away.

He’d always been a very touchy person, but he knew boundaries. When he realized he had feelings for Y/N all those months ago, he had been even more careful about physical contact with them, mainly for his own sake. Now, holding hands was so common for them Hanta reached for Y/N’s the second he saw them, and whenever they sat near each other they were always pressed against one another. They were always touching in some way.

Cuddling was his last straw—he could not stop blushing and trying to hide his face in the crook of Y/N’s neck, which they noticed immediately.

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” Y/N gushed in a teasing tone, knowing this only made Hanta more flustered.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, poking their side to make them ticklish. Y/N just laughed more and ran their fingers through his hair slowly. He sighed against them, melting further into their embrace and feeling sleep already creeping into him.

“Want to hear the rest of my list?” Hanta asked. He moved a bit so he was on his side and facing Y/N, and they turned on their side to face him.

“Of course,” they replied. “I want to know what your steps are to completely woo me.”

Hanta breathed out a short laugh.

“Well, obviously I won’t share all of it, because that ruins some things, but we are currently on point five.”

“Five?” Y/N asked. “I thought we were basically done.”

“How dare you,” Hanta gasped in mock offense. “We haven’t even said the L-word yet.”

“What, love?” Y/N asked incredulously. “I have to have said it by now.”

That shut Hanta up. Said it by now? As in they were in love with him? As in his love was being reciprocated?

Hanta realized he was in love with them when they had sleepily told him they had never been in love. Hanta was sure he had actually been in love for months, but in that moment he had finally realized it. He realized that he did not want Y/N to experience any of the things they listed with anyone else but him, and that now he needed to tell them how he felt, otherwise he would never forgive himself. He realized he missed them whenever they were not together, that he wanted to go on cheesy dates with them, dance in the rain with them, stay up late just to spend time with them.

“You—what? What?” Hanta practically squeaked in shock.

Y/N smiled at him. “I thought I’d said it already! I feel bad now. I love you.”

Hanta turned to bury his face in the pillow they were sharing, Y/N laughing at him and running their fingers through his hair. “I love you,” they repeated, earning another strangled groan from him.

“I love you, too,” he replied. He turned to face them again. “I think I have for a while, but I only realized it when you told me you’d never been in love.”

It was Y/N’s turn to hide in the pillow. “God, I'm embarrassing.”

“When did you know?” Hanta asked, unable to help himself. Y/N quickly turned back to face him.

“When I brought you matcha after your final,” Y/N said immediately, still playing with his hair idly as they talked. “You just… looked so happy to see me. No one’s ever looked at me like that before. And I realized that’s probably how I looked at you every day.”

Hanta reached up to take Y/N’s hand in his.

“Who’s the sappy one now,” he said triumphantly, not letting go when Y/N tried to pull their hand away and laughing at their embarrassed expression.

“The list is long, by the way,” Hanta said. “Hope you’re up for it.”

“I am,” Y/N replied instantly. “Pinky promise.”

They both fell asleep after that, pinkies intertwined and symbolizing a promise they both knew the other would never break.

He was acknowledged for whatever heroic act he’d done that week in the articles and news coverage, but there was always a but, an although, a however. Journalists loved talking about how he scowled at photographers, refused to do any one on one interviews, and was never very warm with fans. In Katsuki’s defense, that was just the type of person he was. His coworkers assured him that his fans didn’t mind his “bitchy” demeanor (a description he disliked. He was anything but bitchy). And it was hard to not scowl at those annoying reporters, who always shoved aside any of his fans for the sake of taking a picture of him.

“They’re just doing their jobs,” Kirishima had said when Katsuki shared his frustrations with him. The two were at his apartment getting a drink, a monthly tradition that had started when they both began working as sidekicks. Kirishima worked for a different agency, but Katsuki still ended up seeing him much more than he would’ve thought. Still, he was one of his best friends, and he couldn’t push him away, especially since he offered annoyingly good advice.

“I’ve met my fair share of annoying reporters, even though we’re still fairly new to all this,” Kirishima continued. “But there’s a handful of respectable ones. At least that’s what I’ve heard from some of the veterans at the agency.”

Katsuki scowled at the memory, drinking his morning coffee even faster than usual. He had yet to meet one of those more “respectable” journalists. He scoffed to himself as he finished his coffee and quickly got ready for his shift, rushing out the door before the sun had even risen.

He was fond of the earlier patrol shifts, the ones at odd hours. He didn’t get them often, and he wasn’t exactly able to request them, since his hours were odd enough as it was. But when they did happen he relished the quiet of the city at midnight, the peacefulness of the office when he went in for a bit to do paperwork. Sure, he missed out on action those days, but everyone in the agency had slow days at least once a month. Boss said it kept them sharp.

Katsuki popped into the agency to sign in for his shift, nodding idly at anyone just finishing their shifts. He changed into his costume and left once more, walking along the dark city streets. He was on high alert, especially because of the quiet. Usually he’d hear at least a car alarm, help out any police units with the odd cat burglar. But today it was eerily silent. As though the city were preparing for something.

An hour passed—the silence remained. Katsuki kept checking his comms, ensuring they were still operational. He’d been checking them periodically for the past hour, but now he didn’t hear the familiar buzz he was expecting. Instead he heard static and a high pitched beep, so piercing he yanked his comms out of his ears.

He radioed into the agency, and was met with more static. He was on his own.

It was almost 3AM, he was halfway across the city, much too far to run back to the agency for backup. Katsuki scowled at the thought. He didn’t need any help. He could handle whatever was happening until his teammates realized what was happening, which shouldn’t take too long.

The past few weeks the news had been filled with the story of two otherwise low-life villains who’d teamed up. One of them had an unconfirmed technology-based quirk, and the other one had a pyrokinetic quirk. Katsuki was up to date on their whereabouts thanks to the agency, and how close they were getting to their district. They’d gone silent a week ago, but now it looked like they were back.

They weren’t much of a threat, in Katsuki’s opinion. They mainly messed with the police and blew up an odd abandoned building or too, and no one had been hurt yet. More of a nuisance than a dangerous attack.

But this particular part of the city was filled with apartment complexes. If they were close enough to mess with communication systems, then they were in the neighborhood. Miles away from the lone warehouses they’d been blowing up. Katsuki cursed under his breath as he jogged, scanning dark alleys for anything suspicious. He only encountered a few people as he ran, and told them to get inside quickly, making sure to keep his tone calm but firm. They quickly obliged. He didn’t know how far these two villains were willing to escalate, but he couldn’t risk them taking an innocent hostage off the street. He highly doubted they would blow up an apartment building. The entire hero and police force would be after them if they did.

He was nearing the shopping area of town when he heard whispering from an alley behind a cafe his coworkers often frequented. A few blocks from any residential areas. And every business on the street was closed—he was the only person around.

The whispering grew louder as he cautiously approached the alley to his right. His communications were still down, and he noticed the lights around the street were off as far as he could see.

“You need a doctor!” he heard a voice hiss, and another quickly shushed it.

“No,” the second voice replied, sounding a bit breathless. “I’m fine.”

Katsuki risked a peek over the cafe’s wall. Two people were sitting at the very end of the alley. A guy was sprawled out on the ground, a small puddle of blood near his leg. A girl was frantically applying pressure to the wound, but Katsuki figured that would do little to help. The guy did need a doctor, that much he could tell even from where he was standing.

He leaned back, hiding himself from view. It was safe to assume the guy was the pyro, and since he was injured it should be safe for Katsuki to use his quirk. The girl must’ve been controlling the tech around her, though he wasn’t sure how she’d messed with the lights. The only light source was the full moon above him and the odd star or too visible despite the light pollution. He could easily take them both in, though it’d be better to have someone else handle the arrest and containment. And they’d naturally try to attack him when they saw he wasn’t friendly.

He needed to be fast about this, and careful. Katsuki started hiding any visible weapons or obvious pro-hero things that were at his side behind him, shifting his belt. He slipped off his arm cannons and set them down carefully. His costume was the biggest issue, but thankfully he always had a spare t-shirt stuffed into a side pocket. He slipped it on over his costume, pulling it over his hidden support items, and stepped out into the alley.

“What’re you dumbasses doing?”

The guy immediately sat up, shooting out a feeble spray of fire that barely reached the ground in front of Katsuki’s feet. The girl scrambled to her feet, her hand slipping in her hoodie pocket. They were a few years older than him, by the looks of it. Hard looks of defiance in their eyes, ready to put up a fight. He almost snorted.

“Who’re you?” the girl snarled, bringing out a taser from her pocket. It was missing its outer casing, and she was holding it by the wires while pointing the front of it at him.

“I live here,” he answered, matching her tone. The two glanced around at that, eyeing the dumpster a few feet from them and the trash littered in the alley.

Okay, maybe not the best approach.

“Yeah, well, we’re a bit busy, so go find some other place to sleep,” the girl replied, still pointing the taser at him. The guy was still sitting up, though his face was quickly losing its color.

“Get back!” the girl screeched suddenly, the wires sparking with electricity. Katsuki felt someone else standing behind him. He half turned to see a somewhat familiar police officer, who was resting his hand on his weapon at his side.

“Is there a problem here?” The officer was looking from Katsuki to the villains and back.

“No, officer there isn’t—”

But it was apparently too late. The girl shot a line of electricity straight at the cop, and it would’ve hit him in the face if Katsuki hadn’t intercepted it with his fire. It hissed as it went out.

He vaguely heard the officer calling for backup, shouting down the street, as Katsuki lunged forward, tackling the villains to the ground. The girl screamed and kicked at him, the taser whirring to life in her hands, but he quickly threw it out of her grasp and blew it up for good measure. The pyro was pinned beneath him, but he still somehow managed to wriggle an arm free and shoot a strong line of fire out.

Katsuki cursed and used his free hand to grab an anaesthetic shot he had in his array of “goodies” as Kirishima loved to call them. He jammed it into the guy's arm and he went limp immediately, and he used the other one on the girl. He climbed off of them, breathing hard. His t-shirt was full of holes from the near miss of both the taser and the fire, but he was otherwise fine.

He signaled for the police to come closer, and he got out of their way as they handcuffed them. The officer who’d found him bowed in apology, but Katsuki waved him off, finally walking out of the alley and into the street, wrinkling his nose at the smell of smoke.

He thought the pyro’s wild burst of fire had been random and a resort of his panic, but he’d been aiming, it seemed, for the only shop visible from the alley. It was on fire, its windows shattered from the force of the pyro’s blast. The police were already keeping a crowd of concerned people away. Katsuki raised his hand to try his comms again when he heard someone screaming louder than anyone else in the crowd.

“The shop owners are still in there!” The man yelled, the crowd loudly agreeing. “They live up there!”

Katsuki wasted no time and sprinted inside, dodging through the crowd and ignoring the police’s shouts to wait for backup. He noticed this was the only shop that was two stories, one for the business and the other for residents. At first glance it just looked like a normal two-story business, and Katsuki hadn’t noticed it much when he was talking to the villains, but this must’ve been what they were going to sabotage next. The pyro had shot out a line of fire straight at it, and the alley was right in its line of view. How he’d gotten hurt before they could finish the plan, Katsuki didn’t know. That wasn’t his concern at the moment.

The heat was almost unbearable inside, but he didn’t stick around enough to feel it. A quick glance around the first floor of the shop let him confirm no one was there. He hurried up the stairs, which were barely beginning to catch fire. Upstairs the layout was like any apartment, and he saw the shop owners huddling as far away from the door as possible. They looked old, and the smoke was probably wearing them down too much for them to walk down the stairs on their own. Katsuki scooped them up easily, one over each shoulder, and was about to leave with them when the woman shouted for him to wait, tapping his shoulder to get his attention.

“Our cat!” she yelled. “He’s still here!”

Katsuki cursed and glanced around wildly for it, and spotted it trapped out on the fire escape, howling and scratching at the open crack of the window. Fire escape.

Katsuki slammed the door leading to the stairs closed with his foot and instead clambered out the fire escape, carefully setting down the wife and then her husband, then climbing out himself. He scooped them back up as best as he could and descended down, the cat resting on the woman’s back, its claws digging into Katsuki’s shoulder. They made it down fine, and he was able to lower them into the paramedics awaiting arms as the window they’d just made it out of exploded above. The crowd cheered when he hopped down from the fire escape, covered in soot and coughing from the smoke. He gave them a small smile before following a paramedic, desperate for an oxygen mask. He hated smoke.

Two ambulances sped away with the couple (and their cat—Katsuki had made sure to set the cat down on the woman’s gurney) and soon reporters were on the scene talking into mics and facing cameras. Katsuki was away from the fire and crowd, and his coworker Affable found him easily.

He couldn’t remember getting back to the agency, or home for that matter. The paramedic must’ve cleared him, and then Affable had to have dragged him back to the agency to change before he took him to his apartment. Katsuki was grateful he wasn’t taken to the hospital—the press somehow always found him, and he hated being seen in those hideous hospital gowns. It made him look weak, and small. He could sleep off sheer exhaustion and a smidge of smoke inhalation on his own.

—

And yet, what he couldn’t escape was Kirishima.

“Morning!” Katsuki groaned and stepped aside to let him in, still too tired to argue with anyone. It was the ass crack of dawn, and since he’d been given the day off to rest, Katsuki had planned to do just that. Kirishima had other plans, it seemed.

“I’m off work right now,” Kirishima said, sitting down on the couch and dropping the newspaper he was carrying onto Katsuki’s coffee table in front of the TV. “And look what I picked up on my way to check on you.”

Katsuki sat down on the other edge of the couch, snatching the newspaper off the table to examine it.

The front page was unimportant, something about a politician Katsuki didn’t care very much about, but Kirishima told him to flip to the next page. He did, not sure why he was listening to him, and saw what Kirishima must’ve been talking about.

Why this picture and its story that followed weren’t front page news, he didn’t know. It was a shot of Katsuki heading down the fire escape with the shop owners and their cat, the fire blazing around him. The accompanying article took up the top half of the page, and as Katsuki began to read he saw Kirishima settle deeper into his couch for a quick nap.

The newspaper was pretty well known—Katsuki himself read it online weekly. He even remembered seeing the journalist’s name a few times. Y/N.

They were damn good, whoever they were. Katsuki assumed they were on the scene from how well written the article was. But everything was taken directly from the eyewitnesses on the scene—the shop owners who’d been among the crowd in the street, and even the old couple themselves. We’ve written to the young man’s agency, and if he reads this article I hope he knows we are very grateful for all he did for us!

“It’s good right?” Kirishima was eyeing him from the other side of the couch, a small smile on his face. Pretending to sleep the entire time, most likely. Katsuki just scoffed and tossed it back on the couch, reaching for the TV remote.

“I guess.”

It was better than good, if he was being honest. It reminded him of the articles he used to read when he was younger, the ones about his favorite heroes. There wasn’t an iota of bad mouthing directed at him. Everything was simple and straight to the point, which would seem average to anyone else. But in the hero world where trivial things were always getting blown out of proportion or where a single second could make or break you, this was a rare gift. One that would a great thing for his career, he hoped. And the factual representation of himself he’d been waiting for, albeit subconsciously.

When he returned to work he found the newspaper clipping hung up on the bulletin board dedicated to news articles on the agency’s heroes. Seeing it considerably brightened his mood to the point where he didn’t mind being assigned to desk duty for the day. Normally he would’ve demanded to be out on patrol or added to an upcoming team up, but he quietly took the desk duty with no complaints (which raised a few eyebrows) and sped through his tasks for the day. By lunch time he had some freedom to do as he pleased, so he sat with his lunch and read past news articles.

They were all from the newspaper that had published his fire rescue, and all by the same author. Y/N seemed to be an up and coming journalist from what Katsuki gathered. All of their pieces were great, with personal eye witness accounts and even some with the heroes themselves, which Katsuki knew was hard to get. They’d even done some sit down interviews, although not as big as those hour-long sit downs they aired on TV sometimes. These were all through the newspaper and online. No video or anything, just a typed up transcript of their conversation with laid out background information on the hero being interviewed, and a photograph of the featured hero.

Katsuki had always refused one-on-one interviews, and his agency had let him avoid them. He was still pretty new to hero work, and Katsuki had figured such a personal interview was something he could do when he had his own agency or something (which he had planned out to happen in a little over a year from now). Right now he was focusing on the job in front of him.

But the fact that this Y/N person had made him actually want to read a one-on-one interview with Todoroki that they’d done a few months ago made him reconsider his aggressive stance on these interviews.

He abruptly stood, startling a few of his coworkers that were eating lunch around him. He stalked towards Boss’s office and opened the door after he knocked. Boss was eating her lunch, too, it seemed, and she waved Katsuki inside. He stood in front of her desk, waiting for her to finish chewing before he spoke.

“I saw that article the Daybreak wrote on you!” She beamed at him, momentarily forgetting about her sandwich. “Great job.”

He bowed stiffly, not wanting to get scolded (again) for being rude.

“So, what can I do for you?” She leaned back in her chair, eyeing him with sparkling eyes as though she already knew what he was going to ask. It still unnerved him, how perceptive she was.

“If they ask for an interview, I’ll accept.”

Boss smiled at him. “Okay, I’ll let PR know you're willing. Y/N-san, right?”

He contained his surprise, nodding stiffly instead.

“Yeah, they’re great, best of the best right now. Good eye Katsuki! I’ll let the correct people know. Get out so I can eat!” She smiled and went back to her food, and Katsuki bowed again and left. As he closed the door behind him he saw heads turning away from him swiftly. Nosy ass coworkers. He went back to his desk, satisfied.

—

The weeks crawled by. Katsuki did a group interview with the other sidekicks in the agency, and it went well in his eyes. He was told the agency was bombarded with more requests, but they’d declined them politely. There was a limit to how much time they could be off prancing in front of cameras in Boss’s eyes. But the times interviews and public things of the sort were presented to anyone in the agency, they were big opportunities that had big results. No one questioned Boss much, and Katsuki had learned not to either.

“Katsuki!” she barked now, making him jump slightly in surprise. His deskmate Affable snickered quietly and immediately went back to his paperwork when he glared at him, standing to walk to Boss’s office. Sometimes she’d call all of them in randomly, just to check on them, or ask how patrols and missions were going. He figured this would be one of those times.

He stepped into her office and immediately noticed someone sitting in the chair in front of her desk.

“Sit, sit,” Boss said from her seat. “Exciting news for you!”

He sat, eyeing the stranger warily. They offered him a tentative smile in greeting.

“This is Y/N from the Daybreak Times. They reached out wanting to interview you, and PR accepted on your behalf.” Y/N was watching him closely, almost anxiously, as though expecting him to decline on the spot.

“Okay.”

“Splendid,” Boss smiled at them both. Y/N’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “I’ll let you guys work out the details, and if you need anything Y/N, let me or anyone in PR know! This’ll be great for the agency and especially for Katsuki, we’re pleased you wanted to interview him.” She escorted them both out and then disappeared deeper into the building, leaving the two of them alone at Katsuki’s desk. Affable had apparently left for patrol, and Katsuki realized he was supposed to leave soon, too.

He sat down and motioned for Y/N to do the same. They hurriedly moved to sit down across from him, taking out a small notepad and pen.

“Thanks so much for accepting this interview offer, Dynamight,” Y/N said, flipping to an empty page in their notepad. “I’ve interviewed two of UA’s top three, and with you that makes all three! It’s truly an honor.”

Katsuki raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t realized that until they’d mentioned it. Shit, was this a mistake?

But Y/N seemed perfectly fine. Not that Katsuki had anything to base this experience off of, since this was his first interview. And they’d only just met.

“I read that article you wrote about me,” he said. “That’s why I agreed.”

Y/N paused in their fidgeting, their pen stilling in between their fingers. “The fire rescue one?”

He nodded.

“Wow, I honestly didn’t think… Thank you.” Any nervousness they seemed to have had before faded away. Katsuki realized he must be tearing down every single misconception and assumption about him. He’d changed quite a lot since high school, and Y/N seemed to be an avid hero follower, so they must be figuring that out as they both talked, too.

“So this interview really goes anyway you’d like it to,” Y/N continued to fiddle with the pen. “I’ve done enough to know that every hero steers them in unique directions. Have you by any chance read or seen any recently?”

I’ve read all of the ones you’ve done. “Yes.”

“Great! Ms. Boss told me you have patrol and will be back in the evening, which gives me some time to work on the preface of the interview and do some more research. I’ll be here when you return.” They pulled out a laptop from their bag and set it down on the desk.

“Are we doing the interview when I get back?” He did have the rest of the night off, just to catch up on paperwork.

“If you’d like, sure. We can also go to a cafe or anywhere else you’d be comfortable. I’m fine doing it here, too,” Y/N glanced up from their laptop. “All up to you. I know you’re busy and I don’t want to take up a lot of your time. Sorry for the short notice on this, but Boss assured me today would be a fine day for the interview if tha5s alright with you.”

He nodded and left, raising his hand in goodbye when Y/N wished him a good patrol.

He spent the next few hours idly thinking of interview responses. From the ones he’d read, it was more of a conversation between them, excluding much of Y/N’s added commentary he was assuming. Half and half’s had been strictly about his hero work and had no mention of his father. Y/N really meant it was up to the hero being interviewed, and that made Katsuki feel glad he’d agreed to this.

It was a surprisingly quiet afternoon. Katsuki only bullied a few old ladies into walking across the street with him and helped a kid look for their dog. Boring any other day, but just what he needed today. He wasn’t too tired to talk with Y/N.

Katsuki had been looking forward to this way too much, he was now realizing. It was out of character for him—even he was aware of that. He wasn’t exactly sure why, either. It was ridiculous to assume he had a crush on Y/N. He hadn’t met them before today, and he wasn’t dumb enough to waste his time with a relationship right now.

Y/N was exactly where they’d been a few hours ago. There was a half eaten muffin beside them and a cup of coffee, and they were rapidly typing away on their laptop when Katsuki sat down across from them.

“Hello! Affable let me use his desk, he said he was done for the day anyway,” Y/N paused from their typing to greet him. “This place is incredible, I can’t believe even your deskmate is so cool.”

Katsuki had to fight back a smile at their tone of amazement. Affable was nice, sure. He put up with Katsuki, and he guessed that was precisely why Boss had sat them next to each other. It was sort of hard to hate the guy, as much as Katsuki had tried the first few days he worked here.

“Sorry, I’m geeking out,” Y/N looked embarrassed. “Okay, ready to start?”

“Let me just go change,” Katsuki finished filling out his patrol report on his phone and stood back up. “Be right back.”

Even the locker room was pretty quiet. Evenings were odd at the agency, since most people were out. But Katsuki had had his schedule adjusted today, probably by Boss herself so he could have time for the interview. He wouldn’t have to go out on patrol again until the next night. He changed into his civilian clothes, hung his costume back up in his locker, and went back to his desk.

“So,” Katsuki said, sitting down at his desk across from Y/N. They’d moved their laptop to the side and had a voice recorder set in front of them. They were fidgeting with their pen and notepad again. “Why’re you a hero nerd?”

Y/N cracked a smile at that. “How do you mean?”

“I read your articles,” Katsuki confessed. “Most of them are hero centered. Just wondering why.”

Y/N had that same look from earlier when he’d told them he’d read the fire rescue article. Sparkling eyes, small smile on their face. “You know, I didn’t expect you to do your research on me.” They smiled at him again, easily, like they hadn’t just met him today. “Anyway, I’m a ‘hero nerd’ because my parents were heroes.”

Katsuki raised his eyebrows in surprise. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it hadn’t been that.

“They retired when I was born, since they wanted to stick around and raise me. Now they teach other young heroes amd consult on the occasional case. I knew I never wanted to be like them, though. I loved learning about heroes more than pretending to be one as a kid, and that sort of stuck with me. What about you, are you what you’d consider a ‘hero nerd’?” Y/N tapped the voice recorder to let Katsuki know they were recording, and he realized that just like that, the interview had started.

Y/N was incredibly easy to talk to, he quickly learned. They let him steer the conversation, asking questions they seemed to come up with then and there and only checking their laptop list occasionally. They took notes as they talked to him and nodded a lot in understanding to let him know they were still listening. They talked for well over an hour, until Y/N reached over to turn off the recorder.

“Thank you, Dynamight," Y/N beamed. “Wasn’t so bad was it?” They hesitated, fiddling with the recorder slightly. “You know, the Daybreak reached out for an interview a while ago. Before I started doing them. Why’d you decline then?”

Katsuki didn’t even know they’d asked. The agency must’ve declined for him after he’d let them know he wasn’t up for any of them yet.

“I wasn’t willing to do them before,” he answered truthfully. “And reporters love to taint my name. I wasn’t about to give them even more chances to. But your writing is different, so I said that if you asked, I’d agree.”

“To me? Specifically to me?” Y/N looked as though they were on the verge of tears. Katsuki stared, unsure of what to do. He didn’t have any tissues at his desk, did he?

“Sorry!” Y/N cried, blinking away tears. “It just… means a lot that you liked my writing so much. I’m still sort of new to this, like you are, and I’m really happy you were willing to sit down with me. Especially because of how the media treats you and how you feel about it. I’m sorry you’ve had to endure that.”

They smiled at him again, and Katsuki knew he was fucked in that moment.

—

“Why’re you bringing me along again?”

“Because. I don’t trust myself right now.”

Kirishima laughed loudly at that. Thankfully they were both in their “civilian disguises” of baseball hats and sunglasses, so no one recognized spared them a second glance.

It had been a few weeks since the interview. It was Katsuki’s day off, and Y/N was meeting with him to share the final interview that was to be published next week. They’d explained they usually did this with interviewees, a tradition they hoped would catch on between both fields of work.

Since Katsuki had shared why he wasn’t fond of interviews and the press in general, Y/N had been a whirlwind of text updates. They’d exchanged numbers after the interview to set a date to meet before publication, and he hadn’t expected much communication between the two of them. Surprising even himself, he’d initiated the conversation, sending a link to one of Y/N’s more recent articles to compliment them on the research they’d done on small up and coming agencies. From there, text exchanges became a weekly occurrence.

Y/N: I offered to proofread lots of hero articles this week >:) that means I can discourage the talk of meaningless shit like off duty outfits and attitude bc tbh its not relevant in journalism. We aren’t the fucking paparazzi

Katsuki cackled out loud whenever Y/N sent these kinds of updates. He thought they wouldn’t react well to his profanity, but they swore as much as he did when they were talking about “reforming hero journalism.”

He occasionally sent back reactions, but mainly he just read the messages. A few days ago he had the brilliant idea to invite along Kirishima to their meet up, thinking Y/N would love the chance to meet another hero and as an excuse to have someone to chaperone him, because that’s just where he was at right now.

Katsuki hadn’t had a crush in years, and he wasn’t about to fall for the only reporter that was nice to him and willing to go out of their way to change the constructs of journalism for him. When he’d shared this with Kirishima, his friend had wiped away an imaginary tear. “That’s so fucking romantic, dude. If you don’t marry Y/N I will.”

Katsuki had chased him around the apartment for a few minutes after that comment.

But Kirishima agreed to go to lunch with him. “You should be glad my schedule left me with lunch free today,” Kirishima grinned as they neared the restaurant. “This place is perfect! Secluded, not too much foot traffic. Y/N’s smart.” It was a small restaurant with outdoor dining, with trees all around.

Katsuki agreed—even the food smelled great. They both quickly spotted Y/N, who was sitting in the back, farthest from the entrance. Y/N waved them over, already smiling.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” they practically squealed at Kirishima after they were properly introduced and had all sat down. “Bakugo-san has the coolest friends.”

Kirishima was smiling as bright as Y/N, and he turned briefly to wiggle his eyebrows at Katsuki. He’d told Y/N they could call him Bakugo if they’d like, and Y/N had started to oblige.

The three sat down and ordered, then Y/N pulled out the article as soon as the waiter was out of earshot. “I printed it this morning! Everyone’s jealous since I’m the first to ever interview you.” Katsuki had never seen Y/N this happy. They had that sparkle in their eye and were smiling wider than he’d ever seen. “My editor loved it! Thank you so much for being willing to have the interview, Bakugo-san.”

Katsuki grinned wolfishly. “Damn right they should be jealous.” Kirishima laughed and nudged him.

“Move it over here so I can read it too!”

Katsuki set it down between them, and they started to read. Y/N fiddled with their drink while they read, something he’d noticed they did when they were nervous.

It became quickly obvious they had no reason to be nervous. The article was beautifully written, and this was coming from a totally unbiased perspective.

By the end of it Kirishima was laughing so hard a few people glanced over, and Katsuki had to shush him with a swift kick to the shin. Kirishima slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes full of mirth.

“This was great Y/N,” he whispered, much quieter than necessary. “I never knew Bakugo had a sense of humor that could be captured this way.”

Katsuki sat back in his seat, satisfied. Y/N had stopped fidgeting and was smiling again. “I’m so happy you guys liked it! And also, there’ll be a picture of you online, Katsuki-san, the one my coworker took last week.” Katsuki nodded. His mom had sent him makeup tips when he’d made the mistake to tell her what he’d been up to, but his skin was “perfectly-fucking-fine” and didn’t need any, thank you very much.

He was actually excited for the article to be published. Y/N had managed to display a side of him the media had never seen, he’ll, one he hadn’t fully realized he could actually show to other people.

Katsuki tuned back into the conversation just in time to realize Kirishima was asking for Y/N’s phone number, and he was pissed for about a second before he realized Kirishima would never do something like that, and his intentions were pure. “If you ever want to interview me or anyone at the agency, just ask!” Y/N was nodding enthusiastically and saying they’d be sure to get back to him as soon as they asked their editor about it.

Their food came and they ate as they continued talking. Kirishima talked about his favorite heroes with Y/N, recent missions he’d been on, and his coworkers. Y/N practically fainted when Kirishima said he’d tell Kaminari, who was always enthusiastic about getting “some press attention,” that Y/N was searching for more heroes to interview to add to their portfolio and impress their boss.

Y/N asked how Shoto and their other classmates were doing, a few of whom they’d met in passing. Kirishima had kept tabs on everyone they graduated with, so he was more than helpful in filling Y/N in on probably too much “gossip.” It made Katsuki happy, seeing them talk as though they were old friends. It must’ve shown on his face because when he wasn’t looking Kirishima snapped a picture of him and proceeded to gush about it with Y/N.

“Look, he’s practically smiling!” They both erupted into a fit of giggles similar that of grade schoolers. Katsuki glared at them without malice and finished up his food to hide his smile.

When the interview was published the next week, he walked into the agency to see everyone huddled around the bulletin board. They hurried back to their desks when they saw him, many failing to hide their smiles. A new picture had been added to the board—the one taken of him for the interview with Y/N. He looked damn good in it, so he sat down without any complaints.

“Morning, Bakugo!” Affable was as cheery as ever. “I read your interview, great stuff.”

“Thanks,” Katsuki answered. Boss waved at him from her office and went back to her phone call, amiably gesturing as though whoever was on the other line could see her. He turned back to his desk and saw that Affable had tears in his eyes.

“Woah, what—”

“You’ve never said thank you to a compliment before!” Affable all but sobbed. Katsuki refrained from visibly cringing away from him.

“That’s not true,” he said defensively, wracking his brain for an example. “I’m nice to you, aren’t I?” He couldn’t keep the defensiveness out of his voice.

Affable nodded and blew his nose with a tissue he’d summoned from somewhere. His quirk was heightened senses, and Katsuki had always assumed it also meant his feelings were heightened since he was a pretty emotionally smart dude. Kirishima had said so when he’d met him. Katsuki admired Affable quite a bit, and he was a good deskmate. Had he been that terrible to him, to everyone? No. He would’ve been scolded thoroughly—Boss valued friendliness in the agency.

“Sorry,” Affable replied. “That interview just showed a side of you I’d never seen. I also watched way too many sad commercial compilations this morning so I guess that’s still affecting me.”

“Cheer up Saito!” someone called from far away. Affable raised a hand in thanks.

“Y/N-san did a great job with your interview, can you pass that along?”

“Sure,” Katsuki said, already sitting down to text them. “They’ll be happy to hear that.”

Affable stopped mid nose-blow, realization on his face. “Oho!”

“Don’t.”

“Okay,” Affable, or Saito, as Katsuki figured he should be calling him, hid a smile behind his tissue. “I don’t need my enhanced hearing to know your heart rate spiked, Bakugo. Have you told them?”

Katsuki was suddenly grateful he had warmed up to Saito the past year. He realized he had one or two friends in the agency, and he wasn’t the badass lone wolf he thought he’d been. Y/N’s interview had also opened his eyes to that.

“No, I haven’t,” he replied gruffly.

“Hmm. You should!” He stood suddenly. “Well, patrol time. See ya.” And with that he rushed out of the building, before Katsuki could harass him about what the hell that meant.

And then, almost on impulse, he opened his texts and typed out a new message for Y/N. He paused for a second to smile at the long text thread that had been going on for a while now, ever since they’d met. The last text was from Y/N and was of them taking a selfie with the online version of the published interview, Katsuki’s featured photograph visible on the screen.

Hey, wanna grab dinner sometime?

He slammed his phone back onto his desk, along with his forehead. The buzz of a notification startled him into an upright sitting position again.

Ofc ;) i’ll pick u up after ur shift we can go out for late night tacos <3

He held back a scream when he realized he’d texted Kirishima instead of Y/N.

SHITTY HAIR I SWEAR TO GOD I AM GOING TO MARCH OVER THERE AND KICK YOUR ASS WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME THIS WAS THE WRONG NUMBER I FUCKING HATE YOU

AHAHAHAHAHAH I’M SENDING THIS TO THE GROUP CHAT WE HAVE WITH Y/N

Needless to say, Y/N did end up picking him up after his shift, and they did go out for food. And the next day, and the next.

Maybe journalists weren’t so bad after all.

You’re both seniors now, and the past few months have been filled with new memories of the two of you becoming even closer. 

Izuku has started to share more about what he gets up to at night, and he’s also started to come back with fewer injuries. 

You asked him about it one night, a month into the new semester. You’re both still neighbors and ignoring graduation as it looms over you and threatens the little world you both live in now. 

“I think I’ve gotten better at this whole Spider-Man thing,” was his answer. He yawned, idly snacking on the bag of chips you’d offered him. You didn’t even like that particular flavor, but you kept them around your kitchen because you knew they were his favorite. 

“Plus, I don’t want you scolding me for dripping blood on your floor.” You snatch the chip bag away from him and he laughs. You can smile about it now, but it was one of the worst nights you both endured together. 

It was the first week of classes, and he had come back dripping blood through his suit. You had panicked, naturally. He had kept reassuring you it was fine and refusing to go to an actual hospital. 

“We got this,” he had breathed, head resting on your shoulder as you both sat down on your bathroom floor and you did your best to gently wipe away dried blood to see exactly where his injuries were. It would have been reassuring if he wasn’t literally bleeding all over your floor. 

You did your best to help him, and he insisted on doing his own stitches. You followed his instructions, blinking away tears at the thought of him learning to patch himself up like this all by himself. Carefully, and as gently and quietly as possible, you helped him over to his apartment. Helped him change out of his bloodied suit and into loose clothing and settle onto his bed. 

You woke up the next morning curled up on the floor next to his bed, holding his hand. 

It hadn’t gotten that bad since, and you hoped it never did. The next day you had enrolled in a first aid course offered through your university and had started reading as many first aid books as you could, but you haven’t needed to use any of the now extensive knowledge you have. 

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him now. “You better not be keeping your injuries from me just because I freaked out,” you tell him. “Which I think was perfectly normal given the situation.”

“I’m not! Promise,” he holds out his pinkie and you smile as you take it in your own. It’s easier to believe him now, and it doesn’t leave you with that heavy feeling in your chest anymore. He holds onto your pinkie longer than he needs to and pulls your hand closer, dropping a quick kiss on your knuckles. “Sorry for teasing.”

“S’okay,” you manage to choke out. Izuku smiles down at his phone, humming quietly in response. You turn away and face the television again, barely processing anything the reporter is saying. The audacity of him to do things like that and be able to function normally infuriates you. You still blush when he pulls you into a hug or smiles at you too brightly. 

You’d never complain, of course. It’s just another thing you’ve gotten used to, an endearingly affectionate habit of his you would never ask him to change. 

Like what he’s doing now, curled in on himself on the couch next to you, wearing his giant oversized hoodie even if it isn’t exactly the weather for it yet, scrolling on his phone while the news is on as background noise. It’s become a Friday night routine for the two of you—when you get tired, you move to your room and fall asleep after whispering to each other about your weekend plans, which more often than not involve each other. 

“Whatcha scrolling through?” you asked him, turning to sit and face him properly. He turns his phone briefly to show you, smiling at you when you laugh. 

“Your Spidey-News column,” he said, going back to his scrolling. “I like to read comments on them sometimes.”

You had become more involved in the newspaper that semester and started a new column on Spider-Man. You published weekly updates on his activities of the week or interviews of people he’d helped.

Izuku had started at the paper as well, as a cartoonist. Momo had taken one look at a doodle he did on one of your notebooks and had recruited him that same day. He was also training under Jiro as a photographer and submitted the odd photo or two of Spider-Man. You’d laughed hysterically the first time you saw it up on the site.

“Are you still freaking out about grad school?” you asked him. He set his phone down with a groan, running his hands through his curls and nodding. 

“I just think it’d be weird if Spider-Man had to move cities, you know?”

You both laugh. It’s something he’s been repeating a lot over the last few weeks. You know that’s not his only reasoning for it, but it definitely is part of it, which is a bit funny to you. 

“I think it would just confirm he’s a student,” you said nonchalantly, moving to surf channels on the TV. 

“Wait, people think that?” 

“Time for bed!” is your quick reply, struggling to hide your teasing smile. He scrambles to his feet, recognizing your movements for what they are. 

“I’ll shower first!” he yelled, already running down the hall to your room, where he stashes his spare clothes for when he sleeps over. You collapse back onto the couch with a laugh. 

A while later, after you’ve gone through your nightly routine, you find him already snuggled in under your covers, scrolling through his phone. You snuggle in right beside him, smiling when you realize he used your shampoo again. 

You run your hand along his hairline to his neck and he sighs, setting his phone down on your bedside table and moving closer to you until your foreheads are almost touching. His eyes flutter clothes as you run your fingers along his hairline again. 

“G’night,” he mumbled, a sleepy smile on his face. You fall asleep soon after him, his smile the last thing you see before sleep finds you. 

And it’s the first thing you see when you wake up again, waking up to the feeling of him gently poking your cheek. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face and you both laugh. 

Wordlessly, you go through your Saturday morning routine, which you’ve repeatedly done for the past few months. 

Izuku always rolls out of bed before you and starts his routine early, a habit you know is ingrained because of his patrols and one he’ll never quite be able to break. 

You start brushing your teeth just as he’s finishing, and he presses a kiss to your cheek as he moves past you to head into the kitchen. You freeze, turning to watch him walk out. 

No, not your cheek, you process. The corner of your mouth. 

Thankfully you hadn’t started brushing your teeth yet, because you’re pretty sure you would’ve choked on your toothpaste and Izuku would’ve had to rush back in here and save you from yourself. 

You begin to brush your teeth as fast as possible before going back and making sure your morning breath is gone, determination and adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’ve let him get away with the other sickeningly cute affectionate displays, but this one? This one feels distinctly different. 

For one, you had literally just woken up after sleeping in the same bed. He had clothes in a drawer in your room. You both had a morning routine every Saturday. He was constantly latching onto you and you onto him, and you were the only one who knew about his spidey secret. 

Fear and doubt about his feelings has been holding you back, but now you feel more confident than ever. You feel ready to talk about it. 

You sidle up to him at the kitchen counter, knocking hips with him like you always do to make him laugh. He’s decided on pancakes this morning, and you start buttering a pan without him having to ask. 

“So, you kissed me just now,” you said, working hard to keep your tone as nonchalant as possible. You move the melting butter around the pan to avoid looking at him, a bit of doubt entering you again despite your previous wave of confidence. You quickly dump some of the mixed batter onto the pan with a spoon to give your hands something to do, too. 

“Oh,” he replied, as though just realizing it. You can see him blushing out of the corner of your eye. “Oops?”

“No oops!” you exclaimed, turning toward him. Belatedly you realize you’re still holding the spoon of pancake batter, and it splatters over Izuku and the countertop with your movements. 

He blinks in surprise and you laugh, stepping closer to cup his face in your hands. There’s batter along his cheeks and you wipe it off carefully with a napkin. 

“No oops?” he repeated. You realize how close to his face you are and you freeze once more. But there’s a little batter at the corner of his mouth that you missed, and without breaking eye contact and before you can lose your nerve again, you wipe it away slowly with your thumb, barely grazing his lips as you do. 

“Can I do it again?” he asked, breathlessly. “Properly this time?”

You nod and close your eyes as he leans closer until his lips graze yours, a feather-light touch before you feel his warmth start to pull away. 

You tug him closer, still holding his face in your hands and tilt your head to deepen the kiss. He makes a small noise of surprise but is quick to adapt, hands sliding around your wais to pull you impossibly closer, mouth moving against yours in a way that makes you feel dizzy. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip and then you pull away, panting slightly.

Forehead resting on yours, his eyes flutter open. He looks so pretty like this, cheeks dusted pink and lips red from kissing you. You can’t help but lean in and peck him again, and he smiles, eyes crinkling in the same adorable way they did when he first met you. 

“Again?” he asked, and you laugh before leaning in once more, sure there will be many more instances of him asking and of you giving in.

taglist: taglist: @yoonights @justxiao @nonhon @koreluvsspring @orangetappe @shokomilks @froggybich @dekuloveshotcheetos @luvrluvrr

Because you also happened to know one of Kyudai’s lab assistants, recognizing his name when Midoriya had shown you the list. 

Monoma had been your partner in your freshman writing class. Begrudgingly, you’d bonded with him over the agonies of writing, and sharing your writing in a small group setting. You still greeted him around campus if you ever saw him. 

When you tell Midoriya your plan, he insists on finding more information before you act on anything. You laugh when he suggests the possibility of Monoma being in on it; sure he was a bit pompous and annoying, but you don’t think a rich kid like him would go through that much trouble to make some extra cash. But Midoriya’s lips don’t even twitch to try and hide a smile, and you know he’s serious. 

He comes back late one night when you’re still up doing homework. You don’t even jump when he slides your window open anymore, so used to it. Moony meows a greeting from her place next to you on the couch before going back to her grooming. 

“All clear?” you asked, glancing up from your laptop briefly. He tugs his mask off and nods.

“Don’t even ask how I know.”

“Oh come on, you’re no fun.”

The next day, you pitch the idea to your editor. 

“Another profile? Of course, go for it,” Momo beamed at you. She’s surrounded by piles of paper and has three different screens in front of her—you don’t know how she looks so cheerful. “Whenever you get it done is fine, I trust you’ll do great as always! Jiro should be able to help with photos.”

The next step in your plan is simple because you knew from the beginning that Monoma would be thrilled at the possibility of being featured. And you were right. Midoriya scoffs at how quickly Monoma replies to your text, agreeing to your proposition to meet up and discuss a project for the newspaper. Two days later, you meet up with him for coffee. 

“Kyudai’s hardly around much anymore, we practically run everything,” he said. You’d let him choose the cafe, and you have to agree it’s pretty nice. If there was not a risk of running into him again here, you’d come back and make it a regular study spot. “He meets with us once a week, I’ll ask him then. He should say yes, he’s done a few of these in the past.”

You thank him profusely. To make sure he showed up, you offered to treat Monoma to a drink.  You winced at his complicated order and regretted your decision when you saw the pained look on the barista’s face, but you pasted a smile on your face and treated him to it nonetheless. Never mind the fact that his backpack alone was worth almost as much as your laptop. It was more of a symbolic gesture, you both understood that.

As carefully as possible, you ask more questions about Kyudai, hoping to get as much information out of Monoma as possible. “Wow, you run the study? Why isn’t Kyudai around as much anymore? Is it another study? Where’s his lab?” 

Monoma is oblivious to your prodding and answers your questions happily. He has a vague understanding of where Kyudai goes when he’s not at the lab or in lecture, and you hope it’s enough for Midoriya to work with. 

Spider boy is sitting a table over, behind Monoma, and facing you, wearing a disguise you picked out for him (a dark outfit you thrifted for him, one of your old baseball caps, necklaces that he never wore—he’d refused the fake piercing, much to your dismay). It’s hard to hide your smile when you make eye contact with him. 

Unfortunately, Monoma seemed to think you were agreeing with whatever he was talking about. Belatedly you realize he’s ranting about humanities majors.

“You know I’m not a STEM major, right?” you shut him down firmly, taking an angry sip of your latte. 

This doesn’t seem to deter him, and if you hadn’t made a quick excuse to leave and end the interview formally you’re sure he would’ve happily taken on the challenge of trying to convert you, or god forbid, ask you out for dinner. Because your smiles at Midoriya may have been misinterpreted in that regard, too. 

“He’s nice,” Midoriya teased when you met up with him a block away from your apartment, as planned. You’d insisted on all the sneaking around because it added a flair of fun to the situation. Plus, any excuse to dress him up. You eyed the outfit you’d picked out for him and decided he could keep the necklaces you’d let him borrow. 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “The things I do for the mission.” 

He laughed as you entered your apartment. “Are you my sidekick now or something?”

You huffed indiginantly, calling for Moony who immediately came running, meowing loudly in protest for being left alone for two hours. “Please, where would you be without this plan? I’m obviously the mastermind behind Spider-Man.”

“So you’re my person in the chair?”

“See, I’m more of an agent, because I go into the field—”

“Okay, okay,” he placated you, scooping Moony up in his arms to spoil her with kisses before setting her down again just as quickly, knowing how fussy she can be. “Anyway, he was totally flirting with you.”

“Monoma?” you asked, aghast. You tossed him a soda from your fridge, smiling despite yourself at how he caught it without even looking up from his phone at the kitchen table. You like testing his spidey senses whenever you can, knowing they’ve never failed. 

“Yes, who else?” he laughed. You glare at him halfheartedly. “Did you not notice his advances?”

“No!” you said, wracking your brain and laughing at Midoriya’s phrasing. You only remembered getting what you needed and trying very hard not to laugh whenever you met Midoriya’s gaze, or to stare at him too hard when he wasn’t looking. 

“Y/N, I just work so hard as a research assistant,” Midoriya said in a high, nasally impression of Monoma. “But here I am, gracing you with my presence. You should be honored.”

“Oh my god, he did not say that!”

Midoriya laughed, amused by your reaction and his impression. “He might as well have! But anyway, thanks again for helping me with this.”

“I’m your agent in the field, your mastermind—”

“Okay, okay!”

——— * * * ———

You spend the next week prepping after Monoma texts you to confirm Kyudai is willing to be interviewed on this day and this time, which you agree to. Thankfully, Jiro is able to tag along to take pictures for the newspaper. 

You hadn’t felt nervous about one of these since you did your first piece three years ago. You blurted it out to Midoriya, which had been a mistake. 

“You can cancel,” he said. You were both leaving the library after a productive study session, and he was just about to leave for his chemistry lab. “Do you want me to go with you to cancel?”

“No,” you insisted, smiling at how earnestly he was on your side. “I can do this. We can do this, spider boy.”

He’d squeezed you into a hug goodbye before leaving for lab, with a promise to meet up with you later for a late-night snack. 

It turned out you had nothing to worry about because when the day came, you were the perfect picture of professionalism. And you actually found the research interesting, so you did not have to fake the smiles and nods of acknowledgment, even when Monoma was talking. It was all focused on cells, and though you don’t quite understand all of it completely, you know its impressive. 

And you can’t help but wonder if what he’s doing in his other lab is scarier and more impressive than this. 

Your smile almost falters before you remember the earnest look in Midoriya’s eyes when he talks about his professor and how determined he looks every time he goes out to patrol. You take a deep breath and grip your phone tighter, straightening your arm to make sure you’re recording everything Monoma is saying. 

After Jiro is satisfied with the pictures she’s been taking periodically and you’ve asked most of your questions, you all move outside to continue talking, so as to not to disturb some of the other students that have started to trickle into the space to do their own work. You’re just helping Jiro arrange everyone on a bench for a group photo when Kyudai’s phone starts to ring. 

“My apologies, let me silence that—” it rings again just as he manages to get it out of his pocket, and you see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses when he sees the caller ID. 

“How about a short break everyone? We can meet back here in five.” 

Kyudai scurries away at that, too far away for you to even try and eavesdrop. 

You say goodbye to Jiro, who explains the first group photo she got is more than enough. Monoma and his research partners are all chatting, so you’re left alone to check your phone. 

Three texts from Midoriya, which you immediately tap on to open up, fearing the worst. He had promised to be stealthy, in and out. Take some pictures, see what the operation was about. Submit to the police afterwards. 

From: spider boy 

6:43 pm - Okay, don’t be mad

6:43 pm - but I had to call the cops in like ASAP

6:44 pm - so end your interview fast and go home!!!!!

You turn around, hoping your urgency to end this isn’t written all over your face, only to almost run over Kyudai standing right in front of you. 

“I’m terribly sorry to cut this short,” he laments. “But I do have to run now. Please feel free to email me with any followups, and thank you for featuring our work.”

You assure him it’s fine, you only have a couple of questions for his assistants, and he’s off, not quite running but also not walking. 

You finish your questions as quickly as you can and then leave, trying not to run back to your apartment, almost laughing out loud remembering Kyudai was dashing off in a very similar way. 

Expecting to see Midoriya waiting for you on your couch you practically throw the door open, Moony meowing at you in surprise from her favorite kitchen table chair. He’s not there.

You turn your small TV to the local channel, waiting for the evening news to start, or the breaking news segment you thought would already be airing, and pull up your Spidey News tab on your laptop. The little livestream banner is the first thing you notice at the top of the page, because you’ve never seen it actually active before. 

The livestream loads just as the breaking news segment starts, both of your screens showing off slightly different angles of Spider-Man perched on a high building, a dozen police cars down below him. You recognize the buildings as the ones downtown, near the train station. 

A reporter appears, interrupting the live feed of Spider-Man in favor of quickly running through the events that have seemingly just transpired as quickly as possible as more police cars arrive behind her. Your mouth falls open when you see biohazard-suited people arrive seconds later, pushing the curious gathering crowd back. 

On the Spidey News live stream, Spider-Man is looking down from his spot on the roof, sitting perfectly still. You almost laugh, knowing how often he likes to hang his legs over the edge to dangle or do handstands for people waving below. But today, he’s the perfect image of solemnity. 

The reporter raises her voice in surprise as a small car arrives, parting the crowd behind her, and Kyudai jumps out. He looks like he’s crying as the cameraman is quick to zoom in on his face, trying to frantically offer up any explanations as the cops are on him in seconds, blocking him from the view of the cameras and taking him away before the reporter can get her mic close enough. 

After that, things start to slow down. 

The reporters don’t have the full picture, you quickly realize. “Officers are telling us that this is a biohazard situation, but it is now under control, and the streets are opening back up, and the trains are running again. This is a heavily populated area, primarily by students, so officials used an abundance of caution to ensure no one was put at risk.” 

Every time a variation of this is repeated, the camera pans to find Spider-Man again (he was dangling his legs over the edge of the building earlier) and a vague comment is made about his presence before panning back to the reporter. You furrow your eyebrows and glance back at your livestream tab, only to see that it's ended.  

“Worried about me?”

You scream at the same time Moony meows in surprise, both of you turning to see Midoriya standing by your window, mask in his left hand. Moony curls back up into a loaf to resume her nap and you do your best to glare at Midoriya from your spot on the couch. 

“You little shit! How’d it go?”

“We got him!” 

You jump up to finally hug him and he laughs, hands sliding around your waist as you slip your fingers into his hair. As though you always do this, as though hugging is a totally normal occurrence and not making you blush and your heart speed pick up. 

“Let’s celebrate!” you declare as soon as you break away, hurrying into the kitchen to hide your embarrassed expression. “Get changed and you can tell me all about it.”

He hums a response and you hear your door open and close as you open and close cupboards around your kitchen, setting things down on the counter. By the time he gets back, you’re staring intently at a recipe on your phone. 

“Okay, let’s do this.”

You launch into the recipe and he starts telling you all about it, as promised. 

“The lab was totally empty, no one was there. So I knew I had to call it in and get some proof.” He tells you he’d texted his friend at the police station as soon as he could. 

“And I even found a lead on Professor Yagi,” he said, in a more subdued tone. “Kyudai owns more property further downtown…I made sure to let Tsukauchi know about it. He said he’d text me if they found anything.”

“Has he texted?” You stop in your mixing, hands twitching to reach forward and grab his hand. But you refrain.

Midoriya shakes his head. “There were like five properties on the list. He has to get enough personnel to hit them all at once. I’m assuming they’re doing it right now.”

“And you couldn’t go yourself because you didn’t want him to recognize you,” you said in realization. “Oh Midoriya, why didn’t you tell me?”

“We got him,” he shrugged, though you can see his eyes are glassy with tears, going back to mixing your batter. You look down at your own bowl and realize this is a lot of batter. 

“Plus, I got a good feeling.” He gives you a watery smile and you feel more at ease. 

You make idle conversation after that. You do your best to keep Midoriya in high spirits, and you both scramble for your phones at every single notification. 

The cookies are when the oven when the text comes. 

You both reach his phone at the same time, the screen lit up with the text. 

From: Tsukachi

Sorry for the late reply. Yagi is safe.

Midoriya sags against the table, laughing in relief. 

“Your spidey senses were right,” you smile at him, gently shaking his shoulders and smiling wide. 

He nods, grinning up at you, breathless with relieved laughter and eyes shining. “Thank god.”

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His texts are assurances that he’s okay, and he occasionally sends an upside-down selfie. But he’s wearing his mask in every single one, and you can’t tell if he’s just being coy or if he’s hiding a bruised-up face behind the mask. 

You receive one that morning just before you leave for class, and you can’t help but smile. It looks like it's from the night before, and you don’t recognize where he is exactly. You snap a quick picture of Moony napping on the couch and send it to him as you leave your apartment, avoiding your gaze on his door just a few feet away. 

You get to class early and continue with what you’ve been doing since Midoriya started avoiding you—investigating. There isn’t much to you; you go to class, you come home, and occasionally you attend club activities on campus or meet up with a friend to study. 

There hasn’t been any obvious overlap between the two of you, aside from knowing his giant secret and being his neighbor. You aren’t in the same social circles, major, department, or anything.  But you do frequent the same libraries. 

Which he hasn’t been doing for the past week—you noticed that right away. Even though you can usually count on him to be there before you and save you a spot, in the back near the giant window he likes to stare out of when he gets fed up with his chemistry homework. 

After the lecture, you follow your biology professor to his office in the building over, making idle small talk before jumping into your questions on topics covered in class. You don’t stay for very long, and it’s on your way out of his office and the building that you spot him. 

Midoriya is sitting against a wall, really crouching as though to make himself as small as possible, nearly hidden thanks to the crevice the water fountain creates in the corner. You freeze, afraid he’s already heard you, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet. He’s leaning forward as much as he can to avoid being spotted on the other side of the corner, listening. 

You take a few steps forward and strain to listen. You don’t recognize the professor’s voice, but he sounds nervous. A few words do register even from where you’re standing— “not ready yet,” “still need to test,” and you swear you hear the word “spider,” but that could just be because you’ve finally spotted the little shi—

Midoriya suddenly scrambles to his feet from underneath the water fountain and heads straight towards you. Stifling a gasp, you’re so surprised at how quickly he loops an arm through yours and ushers you down the hallway you don’t even try to say anything. You both hurry down the hall into the stairwell, and he makes sure to softly close the door behind him. 

You hear muffled sounds of footsteps walking right by the door. Whoever was talking was headed straight towards the both of you. 

“Who was that?” you whispered, even though the stairwell was visibly empty, and Midoriya was still holding you close to his side. He gently tugged you along down the stairs, glancing behind you as he did. 

“Nobody,” he says as you both leave the building, still glancing around as you walk out the doors. “So, how’ve you been?”

You tug your arm loose as you both stop in front of a shady bench by the building you just fled from, narrowing your eyes at him. “Cut the bullshit, Midoriya,” you said. “You’ve been avoiding me for the past week, and now you’re deflecting. Who were you spying on?”

“Y/N, I can’t—”

“Do you seriously think I’d tell someone?”

“I don’t want to risk putting you in danger,” he sighed. “Of course I don’t think you’d tell anyone. I just…knowing anything about what I get up to when I wear the suit could put you in danger.” he’s still avoiding your gaze. 

“Is it someone I know? Is that why?” He shakes his head a little too quickly. 

“Midoriya. I will stand here and list every single person I know on this campus. You can’t lie to me, and you can’t keep avoiding me. And if I know them, then that means I can help you.” You clear your throat, mind scrambling. Can you even name everyone?

He waves his hands frantically at you, eyes wide, and you don’t get the chance to even attempt anything. “It’s Professor Kyudai. I was eavesdropping on him.”

You frown, crossing your arms. “Who?”

Midoriya furrows his eyebrows as he slowly meets your gaze. “Kyudai? The chair of the molecular and cell biology department?”

You shake your head. “Why do you think I know who he is?”

Midoriya looks as confused as you feel. “You’re listed as an undergraduate research assistant on his webpage.”

“I am?”

Midoriya moves to sit on the bench you’ve both been standing in front of, and you move to sit next to him. He pulled up the page on his phone surprisingly fast, and you see your legal name listed there, alongside two others and Professor Kyudai’s, and a brief description of some research study you’ve never even heard of. 

You stared at the name on the webpage, and you remember a mixup that happened your second year after you had already declared your major. You’d received the wrong email for the wrong Y/N, who’d declared as a molecular and cellular biology major—something you had certainly never done. And how the poor advisor had apologized profusely for the mixup and had asked if you didn’t happen to know this other person. 

You can’t help but laugh, quick to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your giggles at the absurdity of this situation. Midoriya still looks confused, which makes you laugh harder. 

“That isn’t me,” you explained. “I’m not even a STEM major, Midoriya.”

He slouches forward and puts his face in his hands, in relief or surprise, you’re not sure. 

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” you laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

He nodded, still hiding his face in his hands. “I was so nervous I was going to have to arrest you or something.”

“Arrest?” you whispered, scooting closer to him even though there was no one within earshot of either of you. You nudge his knee with your own until he looks up at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “Okay, you need to fill me in on what the hell you’ve been up to, spider boy.”

Eventually, after a lot of convincing, he does. 

“Kyudai has been dabbling in some… illegal activities,” he said, scratching Moony behind her ears and smiling at how loudly she purrs in response. You’re both back in your apartment, and the second Midoriya stepped inside Moony has not left his side. You’re a little peeved with her—when you come home she only meows at you before going back to grooming herself or staring at the birds out the window. 

“He’s been doing some research on the side for some sketchy people, using funds he shouldn’t be using. I don’t know exactly what he’s up to yet, but I know other professors might be in on it, too. I think he’s threatening them.”

“What about research assistants?” you asked. “Are they being threatened, too?” You did recognize one of the other names on the list, besides your name twin’s, that is. 

He shrugged and explained he didn’t know how deeply involved they were. From what he can tell and what he’s witnessed for himself, the three assistants have been running most of his actual research for the past month. 

No one has formally reported Kyudai—Midoriya only noticed because he’d been at the right place at the right time, as both himself and as Spider-Man. 

“I was watching a building by the docks one night, just patrolling, and I saw a university truck,” he continued. “Kyudai was driving. I watched him trade some vials for some briefcases I can only assume were filled with cash. The guys who took it, I turned them in a week later to the police. They were messed up, high on something I’ve never seen before. I almost broke my arm that night.”  

And the day after turning them in, his biology professor hadn’t shown up for class. 

“He’s my mentor,” Midoriya explained, voice quavering a little. “I was his research assistant last summer, and I’m supposed to help him launch a new program next semester. I see him every week for office hours. I know he wouldn’t just leave.”

Professor Yagi, it turns out, is Kyudai’s lab neighbor, and Midoriya suspects he was poking around and asking too many questions. And Kyudai got rid of him somehow. 

“Even though I recorded Kyudai making the exchange, it’s not enough yet to arrest him,” Midoriya said. “I’ve been looking for Professor Yagi, tracking Kyudai. I knew you’d want to help, but because I thought you were already connected to the situation, I thought it’d be too dangerous.” 

 You stay silent for a few seconds, mind racing. “Thank you for trusting me,” you said softly, smiling when he met your gaze. “I think I can help you out.”

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Midoriya started sleeping over more often, especially on days when he was not out patrolling and coming back to his quiet apartment bloody and bruised, patching himself up because he did not want to worry you. Even though you had insisted you did not mind, that you wanted to help him.

When you wake up, he is usually gone. In his place, you find a new spider sketch on your kitchen table. You had started a small collection, hanging them up on your fridge with the unused magnets that had been waiting for a purpose ever since you had moved in.

Knowing he would be gone in the morning meant you stared at him until sleep made your eyes heavy and took him away from you.

You fight it off as long as you can. But when the morning sun shines in your eyes and wakes you up, you realize your bed is still warm. And his hand is still in yours.

“You stayed?” You asked before you even opened your eyes. Maybe this was a dream. A cruel dream where you were both free to stay under the covers all day, away from harm and the burdens of being a busy student and beloved vigilante.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s Saturday.”

You opened your eyes at that. Saturday.

On Saturdays, Midoriya hardly went out. Police presence tended to be stronger, and he only went out if he was continuing something, following a lead, or if there was an emergency. That much he had shared with you, that much you knew.

Selfishly, you loved Saturdays.

He smiled at you when your eyes met his. “Is it okay that I stayed?”

You nodded.

His smile faltered, and he reached up to poke your cheek. “Promise?”

You smiled at his action. “Promise.”

You realized you had never lied to him before. Could he say the same about you?

The morning was spent inside, in pajamas, avoiding your phones and reminders of upcoming assignments. Moony slept on Midoriya’s lap all through breakfast, and as you made pancakes for the both of you, you could hear him quietly cooing over her, whispering what a good cat she was.

Really. It was impossible for you not to develop feelings for him. You angrily flipped a pancake, exhaling through your nose strongly. This would be easier if your feelings were nonexistent.

He was no better later in the day, during your TV show catch-up time. Moony was off somewhere napping, so he seemed to seek a replacement. Something to do with his hands. An arm wrapped around your shoulder, a hand reaching for yours. His fingers idly traced your knuckles, intertwining with yours over and over. His eyes never left the TV screen.

You were a mess. You could feel your palms starting to sweat, but Midoriya either did not notice or chose not to mention it. So you melted into his touch, leaning onto his chest and watching the TV show you watched together, letting him play with your hand.

By the third episode, you had your head in his lap and he was braiding your hair.

“Your hair smells nice,” he said from above you. You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Thanks.”

He hummed a response. You let your eyes close, the TV serving as the perfect background noise to pair with the soothing motions of Midoriya braiding your hair. You let sleep overtake you this time, welcomed it. He would be there when you woke up.

——— * * * ———

When you woke up a few hours later, you knew something is off.

You were in the same exact position, but the room was darker, the lights never turned on. You turned, adjusting yourself until you were facing the ceiling and Midoriya.

He was wearing his suit, mask still on. “Midoriya?” you asked. Patting his thigh frantically when he did not respond. “Midoriya?”

You sat up, the hand that was resting in your hair falling limp into his lap. You grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little, a lump forming in your throat and your eyes becoming blurry with tears. “Midoriya wake up. Midoriya Izuku wake the fu—” you break off with a startled gasp when he stirs, groaning.

“Y/N?”

“Thank god,” you said, pulling him forward and hugging him. “You scared me, you little shit.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling off his mask, nuzzling his face into your neck, and wrapping his arms around you to tighten the hug. “Got back really tired.”

You sighed, idly running a hand through his hair. “You’re okay?”

You felt him nod, and then could actually feel him smile into your skin. “Did you use the full name card on me?”

You tugged at his hair, earning a surprised yelp. “It worked, didn’t it?”

He laughed, pulling away. Your smile fell the second you saw his face.

There were tear steaks cutting through a thin layer of dirt, and you watch as another falls and trails down his cheek. You wiped the other away and smiled sadly at him. “Need help getting to your place?”

He shook his head. “I’m okay.”

Liar. You had to bite your lip to prevent yourself from saying it. You forced another smile and stood up. “Okay, then you can shower here. Chance for you to use my shampoo since you like it so much.”

The second you heard the shower turn on you opened your Spider-News tab and started scrolling, looking for any clues. It had become a horrible habit, but you could not help it. Your search was unsuccessful, though. There was no breaking news for you to discover, no sighting of Spider-Man at all that day.

So where the hell was he going?

——— * * * ———

You asked him three days later, when you found him curled up outside your bedroom door with Moony on a Tuesday morning. After making sure he was okay you scolded him for scaring you, and he was so ashamed he refused to meet your gaze.

“Didn’t wanna wake you up,” he yawned. He was not hurt, but the bags under his eyes were more defined. “Moony kept me company.” An unhelpful meow from Moony, which you ignored. She spoiled him too much.

He insisted on making you breakfast before you left for class, and knowing he would keep insisting if you did not back down, you let him. You kept a watchful eye on him as he made your eggs, making sure he was wincing with certain movements or limping. But he looked perfectly fine.

“Where’d you go?”

His back was turned away from you, so you could not see his expression. You were not sure if you preferred that.

“Out patrolling,” he said, turning the stove off and moving your eggs to a plate. “Following a lead.”

He sat down and ate with you, refusing to meet your gaze.

“Why can’t you tell me?” If you were going to ask, might as well push as much as you could.

“I want to,” he said, setting down his fork and finally looking up. His eyes were dull with weariness. None of the bright energy usually in them to be seen. “But it’s too dangerous right now.”

“Are you being safe?” you said, trying hard to keep your voice from shaking.

He nodded. “Promise.”

Was he lying again?

“Okay. I trust you.”

Did you?

You stayed awake as long as you could that night, but you never heard him come back to his apartment, and he was not outside your bedroom door when you woke up the next morning either. You scrabbled to get dressed and rushed to the library, but every step you took away from your apartment filled your stomach with more and more dread.

He was not at your usual spot at the library. And you knew he would not be waiting in your kitchen when you got back.

So where the hell was he?