What He Can Do For Now

At eight years old, Katsuki realizes how confident Izuku is. Deku–Izuku–is confident. When he walks through the halls of the school, he walks with his eyes forward instead of glancing around for danger. People still laugh at him for being quirkless, of course, but those people don't include Katsuki. Izuku spends the first part of his life without being hounded by bullies. He isn't a mess of low to non-existent self esteem who can only meet other people's eyes half of the time. He still has an obsession with heroes, still spends half his day scribbling random things in those hero notebooks, still cries over little things, but he smiles more. He smiles stronger.

On a day when he goes home from school separately from Izuku, he gets punched for the first time. Izuku is probably off browsing the aisles of a hero merchandise store. Half of the time, Izuku drags Katsuki along with him, but there's only so much hero obsessing that Katsuki can put up with.

As Katsuki heads home, he does something to tick off someone in the class a couple years above theirs. It's not even clear what he did. Maybe he ran into one of them or just made a face that pissed them off. It's not the first time some older kid gets mad at him. With his attitude towards others, it would be more of a surprise if he hadn't pissed off someone. Usually he gets away with a few threats or nasty looks and nothing more

The tallest of the group tells him to apologize. Katsuki glares up at him. Like hell is he going to apologize—especially not for something he didn't even do. He tells them he doesn't give a fuck about them, and that makes them angrier. In retrospect, keeping his mouth shut would have been smart, but he'd rather have bruises than broken pride.

Katsuki feels a heavy hand settle on his shoulder as he turns to walk away. He has a badass quirk, but he's smaller than them. He's just eight years old. And there are three of them. Assholes. Katsuki fights back with the small fists he has now. He tries not to cry, but he'd forgotten how much simple punches can hurt. He has never been in a serious fight in this lifetime. He has never beaten anyone up in this lifetime. His mind vaguely remembers how it works. His body doesn't.

Katsuki walks away with his face already darkening with bruises and his eyes stinging with tears that he swore not to shed. At least Izuku wasn't there to see it. At least Izuku wasn't in danger. He thinks it's ironic that he's the one getting bullied this time. Katsuki wipes his eyes angrily. He needs to be stronger. At this point he's not strong enough to protect himself. How the hell can he expect himself to protect someone else?

He half-sprints the rest of the way home and wrenches the door open. He tries to duck inside their apartment without notice, because he doesn't want to face his parents. He doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't want to hear about how weak he is. He already knows that. There's too much he's lost because he wasn't strong enough. If he had been stronger, they would have made it through the last time. If he had been stronger, he could've protected Izuku properly. If he had been stronger, he would've at least been able tear those villains apart himself before they even had a chance to reach Izuku.

He's not lucky enough to slip through the door without notice. His mother blocks his path before he can get to his room.

"Leave me the fuck alone," he says through gritted teeth.

Dealing with his mother is one thing. It's bad enough to listen to her nagging. Dealing with hearing the phone ring and having his mother yell down the hallway that Izuku is on the phone because they were supposed to meet at the park half an hour ago is another thing completely. Katsuki feels his already bad day getting worse. He knows he will be fine—physically at least, but he can't tell Izuku about this. Deku would worry. And fuss over him or whatever, and that would be a pain in the ass.

"Tell him I forgot, dammit," Katsuki yells back through the apartment walls.

His mother relays his answer word-for-word, including his explicative. Katsuki grits his teeth in annoyance.

"Tell him I'll see him tomorrow."

He's in no way in a mood where he wants to be around Izuku. Not because he doesn't want to see Izuku, but because he hates the idea that Izuku might think of him as weak. He'd have reason to. After all, he just got his ass kicked.

His mother kicks in his bedroom door a minute later and hands him an ice pack for his face.

"You made the other guy look worse, right?" She says.

Katsuki doesn't bother correcting her.

By the next morning, the bruise on his cheek has darkened and his jaw hurts a little when he tries to eat breakfast. He braces himself before he walks down the stairs and meets Izuku at the gate. He turns away when he sees Izuku's green eyes widen with concern. There's a white patch over the worst bruise, but there's a lighter one on his forehead that's still visible, and a couple on his arms that stay hidden under the long sleeves of his school uniform.

He knocks away the hand Izuku extends toward him. "Let's just walk to school."

Izuku doesn't press the issue, but Katsuki can feel the cloud of worry float along next to them as they walk. It weighs on him, heavier and heavier, as they walk, until he can't stand it anymore.

"I'm fine you idiot, so stop that."

Izuku jerks out of his overly-concerned state of focus. "H-huh?"

"I'm fine you fucking idiot, so don't worry about me." Katsuki flicks Izuku squarely in the center of his forehead.

Izuku looks at him in surprise for a moment, before his expression changes.

"Mmhmm…you're right. You're really strong, Kacchan."

He gives Katsuki a smile—the smile Katsuki promised himself he'd protect this time. It falters for a moment.

"You'll be fine. Heroes always win, right?" Izuku asks without quite looking at him and with a smile that looks a little too much like it's just painted on his face.

Katsuki doesn't manage to form his worry into a question in time to ask, and Izuku starts rambling about the newest issue of Heroes Monthly in some semblance of normalcy.