Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki hears of Anon's name in his third year, when they're going to fight All-for-One in the final battle.

Anon, short for Anonymous, is regarded as their secret weapon; their final hope to beat the villains crowding the streets; their last ditch effort to save Japan from an anarchist society.

No one knows who Anon is, and doesn't know what they classify as. No one even knows if Anon is one person, two, or three. Anon is just as they want to be. Completely shielded in the dark, hidden from the eyes of the public.

Everyone crowds around a screen, distorted white noise filling the room until a single "A" pops up in a block letter font. A voice grates through, stutters and apologizes as they ramble in excitement. The tendency reminds Katsuki of green curly hair and freckles but he quickly pushes that memory as far away and as deep as he can.

He can't think of past regrets when the balance of the world is toppling to the dark.

He listens to the static voice, the patience Anon exhibits when heroes question their every tactic and every reason of their strategic ability only grows respect in Katsuki's chest.

When they discuss Katsuki's position in the elaborate scheme against the greatest villain of all time, Katsuki swears he hears Anon stutter out "Ka-" before resorting to using his hero name. He doesn't think too much of it, but the memory of that tone of voice lingers for years to come.

It is no secret that Katsuki is suspicious of Anon's motives in the beginning. Is extremely defensive when he sees just how thoroughly they dissect the heroes as if they are specimens in a lab and they're a brilliant scientist. Just the thought sends chills down Katsuki's spine.

The heroes are in the battlefield, like pawns on a chessboard, ready for whatever Anon's next move can be against All-for-One's surprise attack.

The formation planned in advance breaks, shatters, and the heroes are nearing an all encompassing defeat. Anon then is in Katsuki's ear, their voice frantic and desperate as they cry an instruction.

"DynaMight! We need Howitzer Impact on Shigaraki's nape!"

It's a very specific command. Anon could've told everyone listening to aim for his nape, could've given the main hit to Lemillion, the current and final One-for-All user, or any of the other heroes that had more strength than he can compare too. Alternatively, Anon could've said any attack in Katsuki's arsenal. Maybe AP-Shot could be more precise, more deadly with the concentrated blast.

But he demanded DynaMight's Howitzer. Nothing more, nothing less.

Katsuki doesn't know if it's Anon's strategic sense that made them say so or if it's his imagination that makes him think there is something personal in the way Anon more so pleads than commands DynaMight to deliver.

And of course, being the perfect hero Katsuki strives to be, he delivers the blow to Shigaraki's nape.

The heat surrounds him, blinds him, as he tries to catch his breath. Katsuki gave it his all, and in doing so, he is barely able to stand. It reminds him of his first battle against Shigaraki, his first scars littering his body and the pain that spreads down to his fingertips and toes.

When the dust settles and his ears finally stop ringing, he sees All-for-One bow down under Lemillion's strength, sees the heroes cheer in victory.

It is then, Katsuki accepts that Anon is on the right side of history.

It is when his trust and loyalty is born for the anonymous brain behind the screen and in his ear.

As his vision dapples with colors and his senses start to mute from his body shutting down, he hears a whisper of a name he finds familiar.

***

Katsuki is on his fourth mission with Anon behind the scenes.

He's come to the realization that Anon is a singular person from how their side conversations unfold. That is the extent of Katsuki's deduction on Anon's identity.

They're still considerably secretive, still giving little to no hints on their motive and their true capabilities. In usual circumstances, Katsuki would consider that enough reason to stop talking with the person. But with the heroes' success rate only exponentially climbing thanks to Anon's help, he can't deny the secretive hero their wanted privacy.

Not that Katsuki will ever admit it, but he admires Anon. He admires how they became a hero with their brains, with their strength; how they made themselves well known and respected despite hiding behind a screen.

He does, however, promise to give Anon a piece of his mind when he finds out who the person is. Just how high and mighty does this obnoxiously, crazy good strategist think they are.

He never thought he'd voice this frustration out loud. But he does. In fact, he screams it out loud for the world to hear on national television.

"When I find out who you are, and I will, Anon, we're gonna have some words about you hidin'!"

It could've been worse, he thinks. He could've out right threatened the anonymous hero to bodily harm as he would've years ago. And many forums and a lot of his fanbase say the same. But he can't help the guilt crawl up his throat when he hears the stagnant lull from Anon's end today.

There are no cheerful quips, no silly arguments against Katsuki's mindless grumbling as he waits for his next command of action.

So after the simple instructions for the simple infiltration mission that he was acting as backup for, Katsuki hisses through his comm, knowing Anon has a separate line just for him.

"Are you bein' petty for what I said?"

Katsuki winces as the words tumble out of his mouth. Of course he's being brash and insensitive about it. That's just fantastic.

He waits for a response, the white noise driving him to the brink of insanity. Just how much is Anon going to test his patience?

Then he hears the static change, hears a sigh fog against the mic and, "No DynaMight." They sound tired. "It's just been a long day."

"It's not even noon yet."

Another sigh. Katsuki wishes he knew who it was just so he can go and strangle them for sighing twice in one minute.

"Long night and morning then."

"What, you didn't sleep?"

"Does an hour count?"

"It doesn't! What're ya doin' sleepin' an hour?!"

They chuckle, and despite knowing Anon uses a voice changer when speaking through the mic, Katsuki can just tell their laugh is deep and soft and somehow strangely familiar.

"I don't know, Ka- DynaMight. Couldn't sleep."

"You did it again."

"Did what again?"

"You started saying my name. And then stopped yourself."

Anon fumbles on whatever words were on his tongue, the sounds incoherent and endearingly clumsy. Katsuki hates that he finds this person sneaking their way into his head. He doesn't even know what they actually sound like.

"I'm sorry," Anon finds his voice, somehow. "It's just a habit."

"Habit to call me by my name?" Katsuki raises a brow as he realizes he found himself at the entrance of Best Jeanist's hero agency on autopilot. "You sayin' you've been calling me by my name before even meeting me?"

Anon loses his voice again; gibberish muffling the mic again. Katsuki is seriously going to find out who this human is. He clearly needed to knock some sense into them; he's convinced all that strategic analysis loosened some screws up there.

"That's not what I meant." They breathe heavily, melancholically if that makes any sense. "You remind me of someone I was close to."

Now that hit a little too close to home for Katsuki. So instead of taunting and teasing the poor nerd on the other side of the line, he huffs a nostalgic breath of his own, opening the door of the agency and shivering from the air conditioning buzzing overhead.

"DynaMight?"

"Yeah, Nerd."

Katsuki smirks when he hears Anon curse under his breath.

"Don't worry your pretty little head 'bout it. You remind me of someone too."

And for some reason Katsuki knew Anon was smiling on the other side.

***

"DynaMight, we went over this! You can't just-"

"I saved them, Nerd. Stop squakin' over it."

Anon sounds childishly exasperated on the other side as they heave another frustrated breath from their nose. "Yes, I commend you for your impeccable skill. But I needed your skill elsewhere."

"My skill elsewhere would've killed that family."

"I had it covered! You aren't the only person on the mission, Katsuki!"

Katsuki scowled. Anon started this name calling thing only a few months ago, after realizing just how much it hits Katsuki in the gut. He regrets ever confiding that little tidbit of his life to the calculative little mastermind in his ear.

"Okay, fine, you're right. I'm sorry." Katsuki bites, stomping his way to the ambulance to treat the cut he got on his arm fighting the villain. Some nasty knife shooting quirk that was.

"Apology accepted."

Katsuki groans, sitting sulkily. He can't believe he apologizes to this nerd. He's never even seen them before. He pouts as the paramedic asks him the standard questions, and quietly wraps his arm after explaining it's not too deep that it needs stitches.

"DynaMight?" And no, Katsuki didn't jump in his skin because he forgot Anon is still there.

"What?"

"I'm sorry too."

"What could you possibly be sorry for?"

Anon laughs, sheepish and nervous. Katsuki can imagine they're rubbing the back of their neck right now, probably have curls bouncing from the jitters and green eyes-

Yeah he's stopping that train of thought now.

"I shouldn't have yelled."

It's Katsuki's turn to laugh. "Yelled? What you think I can't handle a lil' of your yells?"

Anon puffs out a half laugh. "We're good?"

"We were never not good, Nerd. Seriously, get your act together."

Katsuki then hears Anon sniffle, a little watery, "yeah," leaving his throat in a croak.

To say Katsuki got worried is an understatement. He's losing his mind over what could possibly make Anon emotional.

"Oi, oi. Don't effin' cry. We're heroes dammit."

"Heroes can cry, Katsuki."

He proceeds to malfunction at the way Anon so affectionately says his name. Because, whenever Anon has said his name, it was in reprimand, in slight ire or annoyance. Not when they're crying, or god forbid, in fondness.

So yes, Katsuki is having a hard time making his lungs work again while he sits alone on the ledge of an open ambulance. Before a responder tries to give him oxygen that he definitely does need, but doesn't want right now, he forces himself to breathe again.

"Yeah," He whispers out eventually, still searching for his voice. "Yeah, heroes can cry."

And for some reason, the vulnerability in saying those words makes Katsuki feel lighter than he has in a long time.

***

It's been five years since Katsuki met Anon. And despite Anon's impeccable track record, Katsuki finds it absolutely ridiculous that his colleagues still doubt their merit.

Sure, Anon's still miraculously anonymous after all this time, and still kicking villain butt through their strategic abilities rather than technical ones. And yes, that does cause some mistrust and some envy against Anon's surprisingly well maintained career. But still it doesn't, and shouldn't, allow for heroes to boycott the strategists methods.

Yet here they are, half the heroes missing in a debriefing meeting for an infiltration mission against a mafia conglomerate. One that has echoes of All-for-One's ideologies.

Katsuki angrily paces in the room, ignoring the nerve wrecked colleagues sitting around the conference table. Anon's screen is still stagnant, their regular jumble of words not tumbling out at the moment.

It is when Katsuki grumbles out obscenities, Anon finally speaks, their voice soft and betrayingly understanding.

"Ka- DynaMight." Their tendency to call him Katsuki more than DynaMight is starting to become a concern, not that Katsuki cares much for it. "It is okay, yaknow. I understand why-"

"Don't, 'it is okay, yaknow,' me." Katsuki mocks, his frame frozen as he points a finger to the screen.

"And you, don't point at me like a kid." That makes Katsuki scowl while curling his finger into a fist. He forgets that Anon can actually see him, from the camera obviously placed in the corner of the room.

"It really is okay. I expected half of the people here today. So, the turn out is two hundred percent of what I planned for. Not that I don't need you all." They quickly amend. "The more hands we have on this, the better."

The muscles strained along his shoulders untwine, relax and soften from the statement. It makes him more annoyed than pissed off now.

"Ya still underestimatin' your value, Nerd." He mumbles, his eyes trained straight at the camera and hopefully staring into Anon's soul. "You proved yourself more than enough, these extras gotta get that through their thick skulls."

Anon sighs, a habit Katsuki has learned to accept even if he hates it to the core. "Keeping my identity hidden causes some distrust, Katsuki." Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki. He wants to know what Anon's true voice sounds like when they say his name. "It is human to feel uneasy when one side is fully exposed and the other is concealed in the shadows."

The heroes listening to the awfully soul-deep conversation fidget from the truth. Anon is not wrong, and something sad in his tone makes the room go colder than Katsuki would care to admit.

After a few moments of lingering quiet, Eijiro Kirishima, dubbed Shitty hair by Kastuki, (and bless his soul) asks, "So what is the plan?"

He says it with a bubbly nature Katsuki can tell Anon appreciates from how he hears the muted tapping on a table through the mic; a habit Katsuki noticed Anon does a lot when they're nervous.

"Well Red Riot, there will be only one hero infiltrating their actual operation. The rest will be covering for him in the distance. So mostly during patrol and other, public affairs will be staged to an extent to prove the hero's loyalty to the Yakuza."

"You said, him." Katsuki says it as a statement rather than a question, "You already decided the hero for this."

"Yes, I did."

"You waitin' to do some grand reveal or what? Spit it out."

Anon laughs breathily, nasally almost. And they say the name the heroes least expect.

"DynaMight will infiltrate the Yakuza. Seeing as they have the most sympathy for, quote and quote, villainous heroes."

"I'm a villainous hero to ya?" Katsuki accuses. And no he isn't hurt, he doesn't care what this half-rate, invisible extra thinks of him. To think he was defending their ass moments ago.

"Of course not." Anon responds patiently, like they're treading on thin ice. "But the media and many of the Yakuza who've been in our custody think otherwise."

Katsuki wants to believe them but the nagging in his head tells him that Anon must be sugarcoating it all. That they were only giving lip service to keep Katsuki level-headed.

And despite that nagging, and all that uncertainty that thanks to his fellow colleagues for planting that seed of doubt, he nods in compliance.

"I'll follow your lead, Nerd." He says, determination brimming as he puffs his chest and clenches his fists with an itching fight.

"You've got my trust."

The sigh of relief on Anon's end digs that doubt deeper.

***

The infiltration went longer than expected. Instead of the three months as planned, it went as long as seven months. Seven months of gaining heinous people's trust, proving his loyalty, and committing atrocious crimes in the cover of night.

Katsuki despises it.

It goes against everything he stands for. All his morals are thrown out the window, and these seven months of hell have truly bruised his ego in the amount of ways he's bent backwards to Anon's demands.

However, the day he finds children locked up in the basement of the house he had access to for two whole months, Katsuki couldn't stand it anymore.

He knows he no longer can speak to Anon directly, can't write notes or send them through another hero since the Yakuza bugged him in every possible way imaginable; with cameras, mics, even thermoregulation sensors. Apparently, the concept of privacy was a foreign one in this day and age.

So, with the code (which is similar to morse code yet entirely different) he and Anon devised before starting this mission, he taps a message while huffing out insults to the Nerd.

Children, basement, let me save.

"DynaMight," Anon reprimands childishly; it is an act of how they're annoyed at the slew of curses they have to endure. "We've discussed about your mouthy behavior before. I can't work if you keep distracting me."

Katsuki scowls. The message is crystal clear.

Stay put for now. The plan doesn't change.

He's cursing out Anon's entire family for real now. And he proceeds to say it louder when Anon sighs. Again what is up with this human and sighing?

"Well yaknow what, Anon? I've had enough of your bullshit." He whispers it, as though it's a secret meant just for their ears, knowing full well everyone can hear him. "And I'm done listening."

Katsuki cuts the line, shoves the com in his pocket and prays, despite not being a believer in god, that Anon caught the message he frantically tapped between his heated speech. He hopes that he didn't stun the Nerd from pulling such a fast one. Because his message was crucial for the second phase he triggered with no warning.

I'm going in. He sent in their code. Keep backup ready.

He stomps through the eerily empty streets outside his joint agency with Shoto Todoroki, IcyHot as he calls him, and changes out of his hero suit to civilian clothes. He knows the Yakuza is still watching him, still tracking him despite changing clothes. Somehow they've got traces everywhere, and on every piece of his clothing.

It takes him a while, but he finally reaches the Yakuza's main base (a Japanese style mansion with three levels above ground and two levels underground), walking the whole way.

He's scanned and groped as though he's entering a highly secured airport and not an extra's house. It's standard procedure. And when he finally gets through those grueling fifteen minutes, he continues stomping through the grounds, reaching the bookshelf (that is actually a door) that leads to the underground facilities.

He tries to sneak to where the children are held captive, but goddamn, it's a maze down here. Without aim, he practically runs through the halls, peering his head over corners of walls until he finds something, anything, that looks familiar.

When he ducks his head into a hallway for the nth time (seriously, why are there so many dead ends?)Katsuki finds two men standing with their backs to him.

He freezes. And then proceeds to hiss out curses from his lips while jerking back and out of view. Because, shit, shit, shit, that was too close; he seriously needs to reevaluate his position and somehow work his way around this, because clearly he has no clue on what he's doing here.

He really hates that he agrees with Anon now. Because it's now he realized that Anon was right and they needed to still figure out what the hell the Yakuza have been planning for over two years that needs such secrecy.

"What are you doing here, DynaMight?"

Katsuki's breath stutters in his chest. He didn't even hear the man.

"What are you doing here?"

And now Katsuki wished Anon was in his ear right now, scolding him with that sharp tone of voice they somehow manage to cut through to him with. Somehow.

The man standing before him is the boss' right hand. Despite never meeting him before, Kastuki knows simply from the tattoo on his neck and the gold chained bracelet on his right hand.

Yeah, Katsuki messed up big time.

"I'm just bein' an ass." He covers quickly, smiling in the unkind way he does when he taunts IcyHot about how his heat signature is way higher than the latter's flames. "I got lost. Again."

The neck tattoo guy doesn't give a tell if he bought it. Katsuki's sweat starts to build up more. Not from nervousness but from excitement. He might finally get to fight these villains and give a taste of his rage.

Suddenly a draft—yes a draft underground and Katsuki thinks he's going insane from it—chills him down to the bones.

"It's good you're here." He says, a frigid, firm hand gripping Katsuki's shoulder. "We were looking for you."

"Me? What, ya need more details on the heroes' weaknesses?"

"No, no." He shakes his head, grinning in a way that makes Katsuki shiver. Not in fear. No, shut up, he isn't afraid. "The boss wants to meet ya."

Freaking finally. Maybe he doesn't need Anon to make some progress.

Katsuki nods, waiting for the neck tattoo guy to lead the way. They take three turns, two lefts and one right, and find their way to another hidden staircase. This time it's a trapdoor concealed underneath a rug that reveals a steep set of stairs.

They descend down, their footsteps creaking the wooden planks and echoing in the narrow passageway. Light is sparsely sifting through the curtain at the bottom, and the heady scent of smoke makes Katsuki light-headed. Who smokes when there is no ventilation? Stupid villains.

The neck tattoo guy, and no Katsuki won't change the guy's name in his head, signals for Katsuki to wait. And so he waits as the neck tattoo guy lifts the curtain and slips through. He waits as he hears the rushed whispers on the other end and the crude laughter fill the walls. He waits and waits and waits. Until finally, the neck tattoo guy comes back and grins at Katsuki.

"Come on in."

He steps in, his eyes squinting from the harsh light, his throat clogging from the second hand smoke of cigars that are ridiculously too strong. He can say they're too strong because his explosions release a good amount of smoke too; he's never felt this claustrophobia as he is in this big wide room filled with personnel.

"DynaMight!" The boss, who is surprisingly only a few years older than Katsuki, greets with outstretched arms and a cigar loosely tipped between his fingers. "I'm so glad to finally have met you. Please, please, sit."

Katsuki sits, scowling as he does, and crosses his arms over his torso.

"Ya could've met me the day I joined." Katsuki grumbles, his brows slanted and darkened from the flickers of candlelight between the two.

The boss laughs heartily, his chest bulging out of his shirt, buttons holding onto dear life to not split open and reveal the god awful forest on his sternum.

"Yes, I could've. Forgive me, but you're a hero. I had to take my precautions."

"Satisfied?"

"Plenty." He says, inhaling deeply with the cigar's mouth in his. When he exhales, his demeanor shifts with the uncomfortable, sweaty heat simmering down to the cold Katsuki felt upstairs.

Something is off. Terribly off.

"I want to discuss the main reason you were recruited, Dyna- Can I call you Katsuki?"

Katsuki wants to punch the shithead's perfect teeth in. He nods an affirmative instead.

"Katsuki," The boss starts again, "The reason I needed a hero in my forces, needed you, was because I'm after someone in the heroes forces. Someone who is a great threat not only to me, but to anyone who despises the false peace the heroes have built once again." He inhales his cigar again, exhales smoke, and lets his fingers dance in the grays suspended in front of him.

"I need to kill them." He whispers, his eyes glinting dangerously. "You do understand that, no? With your sentiments of death and murder and obvious superiority to the lesser beings of the world, you understand what I mean? Don't you, Katsuki?"

Katsuki doesn't move during this inflated egoist's rant, doesn't even twitch his fingers when the boss stands up and inhales deeply with the cigar in his mouth again. Exhales with dense, potent smelling smoke, and taps the cigar against his fingers to watch the ash fall on the carpeted floor.

"Kill who?" Katsuki finally speaks. And the Yakuza boss smiles, big and toothy and no longer showcasing the faux enjoyment from earlier. No, his smile is crooked and cynical. Down right murderous.

"Anon." He seethes, like the name poisons his very being. "I need to kill Anon."

Katsuki's breath stills, his lungs fail, and he swears all he can hear is his heart thundering in his chest.

"And you, Katsuki. You are the key to finding them."

The light flickers, this time the shadows deepen the boss' hooked nose and the scar snaking up his throat.

And the tension between the hero and villain snaps.

It snaps when Katsuki out right cackles.

"What makes you think I'm the key?" Katsuki's smile drops, his own expression rivaling the villain's. "Even I don't know what the damned Nerd sounds like."

"You're the key 'cause Anon has a private line just for you. And a private line means no room for them to jump country to country in their dark web bubble." The boss takes out a small disk from the vest pocket laid on his heart. "And this little device already got his coordinates thanks to the little ear comm in your pocket-"

An explosion ripples on his face before he can add anything else. Guns flare, shooting at where Katsuki stood moments ago. He realized it was a trap the moment he was told to sit, and at that very moment he devised a plan to get the hell out.

He ducks from the gun shots, absolutely ecstatic that Anon convinced him to wear a nonmetal gun proof vest underneath his shirt at all times. He would've died three times over if it wasn't there.

Next he shoves the table towards the neck tattoo guy, who Katsuki realized is the one who kept bringing the cold weather underground. He needs to take that guy out stat.

Which he does with three concentrated blasts on his head, chest, and knees. Then he turns, grabbing the shield hung on the wall to protect himself from the gun shots as he forces his way through to the curtain. When he reaches midway up the stairs, he blasts the top of the small archway holding up the curtain rod, coughing when rubble blocks the entrance into the room.

He hopes that buys the heroes enough time. Because he knows there is another entrance to that shithole. He saw the oak door guarded by two burly men, thank you very much.

When he finally reaches the basement's top floor, he heaves three long breaths, digs out the comm from his pocket and turns it on despite Anon's strict instruction not to.

Katsuki didn't care for that though. What was the point of those instructions if Anon was dead?

"Anon!" He whispers as he plasters his back to the wall when he hears a stampede of footsteps echo in the hall. "Anon, they're after you and somehow they figured out a way to track your smartass! So you better get the hell out of wherever you're hidin'!"

The noise is still static, drowning Katsuki's senses. The footsteps thunder louder and he prepares for the worst.

"Katsuki," He hears, finally, through the tiny speaker in his ear. "Everything is okay. Don't worry about me. We need to get you out of there."

"This isn't the time to be some self sacrificing idiot De-" He groans and tries to keep his voice steady despite his hands sweating uncontrollably and stressing him the hell out. "Anon, please. Save yourself, and you don't worry about me. I'll save my own ass."

He ignores the whimper that shakes his core. Because, he can't deal with these conflicting and terribly timed emotions right now.

"When we're both safe, we can drink those stupid All Might slushies you keep raving about. Okay, Anon?"

Katsuki tries to ignore the soft sob he hears too. He tries and fails and he feels his lip wobble despite himself.

Then he hears a soft, "Okay, Katsuki." Hears a sniffle and another cry before the mic goes loud for a second and goes quiet again. "Until next time."

Screams echo in the halls, and he can hear the familiar shouts of his colleagues fighting not too far from where he was stuck. But his focus is zeroed in his left ear, to the anonymous human he refuses to admit that he cares too much about.

"Until next time." He says.

The line gets cut, his left ear drowning from the white noise.

***

Katsuki hates the rain.

He hates how the rain washes away his sweat and makes him feel colder than the snow or ice ever do. Because he doesn't have sweat building up on his palms to explode the villains in front of him.

But he's a hero, dammit, and he can manage even when the skies and mother nature seems to be against him. So with the help of his winter suit that he had the insight to wear today, he runs more as he fights the villain with a glass based quirk, jumps more, just moves more all to recollect the sweat he's losing.

Shattered mirrors and cracked windows transform into daggers, aimed for his heart as they rip through the air.

Just then, his sweat finally fills his gauntlets, the light flashing for release. And he smirks, uncocking the handle and shooting the villain with a concentrated blast.

The glass melts mid flight, and then disintegrates to dust as the villain screams in pain.

She kneels on the floor, looking up at Katsuki's broad shoulders and victorious grin. Before she can squeak out a word, she slumps forward, the overworking of her quirk pushing her limits.

And Katsuki's grin drops, his eyes traitorously dimmed while the rain plasters his hair on his forehead.

He still can't get over fighting crime without Anon in his ear.

Even if it's been three years since.

The police surround the scene within a few minutes and they place both yellow tape and orange cones to make borders for the civilians' safety. The reporters flock right behind.

When Anon was there, Katsuki would entertain the vultures, would make snarky comments all to maintain his popularity rank that Anon religiously kept up with. For some godforsaken reason Katsuki could never pinpoint.

Without Anon, he never bothers to maintain it. How does it matter if he's the number one hero of Japan for two years in a row.

"DynaMight." That was IcyHot in his ear.

"What is it?"

"I'm opening a new line for you. Someone wishes to speak with you."

Katsuki groans, "Oi, I don't want another idiot bothering me when I work! You better shut down that line!"

He's stunned to silence when he hears a familiar chuckle on the other side.

It couldn't be.

"It's nice to hear you too, Katsuki."

If Katsuki is smiling like an idiot in broad daylight, no one can see it. No one.

"Anon?" He murmurs.

"Yes."

Katsuki is definitely smiling like an idiot. And reporters definitely got photographic proof of his serene face when he's genuinely overjoyed. His popularity poll won't suffer for months to come, that's for sure.

"You damned Nerd!" He exclaims, his smile contorting into a scowl of mock anger. "Where the hell ya've been the past three shitty years?!"

Anon's distorted voice sounds clearer than before as they laugh out loud again, crisper and more authentic.

"Oh yaknow, the usual. Planning, strategizing, hiding." They sigh, and Katsuki actually can't believe he misses their shitty sighing. "And watching you, Ka- Katsuki. You're just so sugoi."

Katsuki swears as he hears Anon sniffle and mumble under their breath how they need to stop being a crybaby.

"Heroes can cry, Nerd." Katsuki reminds him, his own eyes burning with heat. If anyone asks why his eyes are red-rimmed, he'd say it's because of the rain.

"Yeah, yeah they can." Anon releases a watery chuckle. "I've missed you."

Katsuki ducks his head forward, hiding his face with his forearm for the little privacy he can find while the rain pours on his back.

"And I, you. Shithead, nerd, stupid idiot." He is not sniffling, and no his eyes are not leaking. "Never disappear again."

"Never again."

And Katsuki stays in the rain, letting the sweat and his sorrow wash off of him.

Maybe he doesn't hate the rain as much anymore.

***

Only a handful of weeks have passed since Katsuki and Anon have reunited, and they're closer than ever.

Catching up was as easy as breathing. Since Anon is almost always available on the line reserved for Katsuki, they talk whenever either can find time to tap in.

In the few minutes between changing and breakfast they discuss over their respective schedules; in the walk that, no Katsuki didn't deliberately make longer, they argue over how the ranking system needs fixing; in the time Katsuki has to spend staking out some villain that is at large for a month they have a deep meaningful conversation of how they both grew despite missing the other.

How both kept thinking of the other despite moving forward, despite improving.

When they laugh at Katsuki's reiteration of one of Camie's memorable illusions, Anon sighs. Katsuki never gets tired hearing them sigh and he questions his entire existence because of the piece of information he's learned to accept.

"Ka- Katsuki," Anon stutters, and something in Katsuki clenches from how nervous they sound. Why doesn't the nerd understand that there is nothing to be nervous about? Not with him anyway.

"Yeah," He says.

"This'll," They inhale deeply, their exhale shaky before picking up again. "This'll be the last time we'll talk."

It takes two seconds for Katsuki to process until, "Like hell this is the last time!" He hisses, trying not to royally screw up this stake out. And he hears Anon shudder from his devastated tone. Good, the stupid little Nerd deserves that. "What happened to, never again? Huh?!"

The frustrated noise Anon makes through their nose only makes Katsuki angrier. "You lyin' piece of- Don't be annoyed at me!"

"I'm not annoyed," They say with annoyance.

"You ain't foolin' no one."

Tense silence drags between them. All he can hear is their heavy breathing puffing against the mic.

"Katsuki." Anon says in that tone that Katsuki hates because he finds himself always conceding to Anon's whims whenever he hears it.

"What?" He bites, trying and failing to not let his crack in his voice show.

"Trust me?"

Katsuki sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, Nerd."

He always has, and always will. Not because of their time spent together but from that gut feeling Katsuki relies on. That gut feeling that never lies.

Katsuki swears he can hear Anon smile when they sigh in relief.

"Have fun at the gala tonight."

And Katsuki curses out Anon, not caring how loud he is.Which only elicits laughter and terrible jokes to bubble out of Anon's chest (all to distract Katsuki's distraught heart) until the early morning sun finally reaches its crest at noon.

***

Winter wind nips at Katsuki's skin as he exits the limousine. Cameras flash and he can't stop the glare he shoots at the paparazzi before he realizes, he practically signed up for this when he decided to become a hero.

A hand clasps on his shoulder, the grip firm and familiar in an instant.

Shitty Hair. Eijiro Kirishima. The golden retriever friend he made in high school. His first real friend after summer days from his childhood with forest green hair and bright, round eyes that shone as if he were the sun.

"Katsuki," Eijiro flashes his pointy teeth for his friend; the cameras are only lucky they get to catch the moment. "Glad the suit finally came in handy."

Katsuki grunts an affirmative, his lips slanted in nonchalance. He would've smirked, would've complimented Eijiro's decent taste, but since he hadn't heard anything from Anon after the stake out, his mood steadily plummeted as the sun left and the moon came.

"Hey, Bro?" Eijiro's smile grows softer, his tone a little worried so the cameras don't capture a probable ill moment. "You good?"

The lights flash again, this time to the heroes following behind them. Katsuki takes it as his sign to trudge ahead with his eyes on his shoes, to ignore the call of his name falling from his friend's mouth.

When he enters the dim lit sitting area, he finds himself blankly staring at the crowd. Heroes of all types were already bundling in their respective cliques. And even though Katsuki is technically part of one, he just wants to leave.

Probably go to his favorite hiking spot atop a mountain to scream out his lungs.

Yeah, that sounds better than sitting with this lot of people who are more concerned for their ranking than saving people. These people who can never compare to the hero Anon is.

He clicks his tongue, scowling and glaring at his clenched fist.

Of course his thoughts go back to that human.

What's worse is that Katsuki finds himself sighing when he realizes he already forgave them. Since when does he forgive little lying, betraying shits?

Eijiro catches up to him again, his expression finally rid of the cheerful veneer from outside.

And before he can question anything, Katsuki grabs his shoulder, nodding his head as he murmurs an apology, and explains with his eyes that he's okay. Just needs some time and space.

From their eleven year friendship, Eijiro understands the simple action and gives an affirmative squeeze. They head to their table, sitting down at their seats labeled with their names. While a waiter comes and gives the pair a glass of their preferred drink, Katsuki listens to Eijiro gush about how his kids are so strong despite being so small. Katsuki listens even as others from their friend circle come and join the table, sharing their own stories of their lives at home and work, catching up since they barely get to anymore.

He listens, but he isn't really listening. He's just letting the words flow from the lips to his ear and he minutely processes it with every sip of wine. And soon, when he's had a few extra sips than he's used to he finds himself imagining Anon in the group.

He imagines they have a bubbly smile while they gush over every respective hero, admiring their signature moves with their hands moving around animatedly. He imagines they'd tease Katsuki's terrible habits, imagines they'd add some disgustingly heartfelt compliments in the mix.

He imagines and imagines and sips his drink away. And it is when someone shakes him from the shoulder does he realize he's imagining Anon to be an image of what his first friend would look like as an adult.

And he curses under his breath when he sees that childhood friend next to him, smiling ever so kindly, warmly, as their hand is comfortably on his shoulder.

"Deku?!" And he winces from the shrill scream he let loose from his throat.

Deku, Izuku Midoriya, only laughs sheepishly.

And that laugh sounds so, so familiar it sobers Katsuki up in seconds.

He stands up and blinks owlishly, scrutinizing the undercut Izuku sports, the way the constellation of quartet freckles on each cheek stretch from his broad, toothy smile. Izuku, and Katsuki still can't believe he's here, is taller and broader than the shivering, scrawny middle schooler he knew. And suddenly, Katsuki realizes that he's gawking at the man in the first place because of how familiar his laugh is.

So he shoots an arrow in the dark, his whole body shaking. From nervousness or excitement, he doesn't know.

"Anon?"

Izuku's eyes go wide, his cheeks flood red as he stutters on his words.

And yes, Katsuki definitely recognizes those mumbles. He literally heard them this morning, and has heard them almost everyday for five years plus the past few weeks.

He points his finger in front of Izuku's nose, watching how those green eyes cross as Izuku stares at the offended finger hovering in front of his face.

"You've been in my ear for eight years! And you didn't tell me it was you?!"

Katsuki is definitely screaming now. All the attendants of the gala are the audience of this beautifully (disastrous) heartfelt reunion.

And the Nerd- Deku- Izuku- Anon- Katsuki doesn't even know what to call him anymore, only continues smiling. He smiles so his cheeks bunch up on his big round eyes and he chuckles in joy.

"Kacchan," Katsuki's breath does not hitch from how much he hates yet misses that name. "Nice seeing you too."

Katsuki scowls, grabbing the underside of Izuku- Anon- the little- the giant shithead's jaw. Oh he's just playing with Katsuki now.

"Don't, nice seeing you too, me! Ya better have a good explanation for all this-'' he gestures with his other hand, waving it mindlessly in the air, "-hidin' and shit!"

"I've already told you why." Izuku has the audacity to pout.

"Why you-" Eijiro expertly steps between them, sincerely apologizing on Katsuki's behalf as if he isn't there, which only pisses him off more, but the reassuring whispers from De- Izuku make Katsuki back down.

However, the moment he backs down, he feels his vision swimming, feels his head thump dangerously as he stumbles on his two left feet. Shit, shit, shit. And this is why he hates drinking.

The last thing he sees is a blur of green and hears his childhood nickname call out to him.

And no. No he isn't smiling as his thoughts go blank.

***

Katsuki wakes up in steps.

First he feels. Feels the headache splitting his skull in half, feels the cold sheets beneath his fingertips, feels the numbness in his gut.

Then he sees. He squints when he opens his eyes and the sunlight stings his eyes because it's just too bright. He sees the familiar All Might poster he sees every morning and sees the myriad of pictures (all showcasing him throughout is life) hung on the wall.

And then, everything else just hits him so hard it disorients him. Because now he tastes the wine on his tongue, he smells the potent scent of caramel, courtesy of his quirk, and hears his steady yet obnoxiously loud breathing.

Hangovers are really the worst. He always feels so out of his element because of them and he vows to never go so far with his alcohol again.

It is Anon's fault for him getting drunk in the first place.

He groans, shoving his face into his pillow.

Anon- Deku- Izuku- the shithead Nerd.

He still needs to wrap his head around that development.

Shifting his head, he slumps his cheek on the pillow, staring blankly at his destroyed alarm clock. He must've exploded it in his sleep. But then his gaze falls on the note in front of the clock. He picks it up, inspecting the charred edges, and the scribbles written inside.

Call me, 255-644-4801

Deku/Anon

He stares at the numbers, blinking harshly from how they dance off the paper.

Then, as if in a trance, he picks up his phone, punches in the number and listens to the rhythmic ringing coming from the other side.

When a click resounds, he exhales the breath he's been holding this entire time. He hears shuffling and a clumsy grunt that only seeps relief in Katsuki's shoulders. With the familiarity in hearing them- him breathing in his ear, (and no not in the creepy way, shut your mouth) he can't help the traitorous, upward curve of his lips in a soft, endearing smile.

"Nerd."

He hears a gasp, a ruffle of cloth and a whisper of disbelief.

"Kacchan?"

"The one and only."

Izuku- Anon- god whoever that singular person is giggles like a child.

"How's your head?"

"Freakin' fantastic. How's yours?" He snarls, his hand clenching the phone in his hand. "Considering you've hidden yourself for eight years."

And that idiot, nerd, shitty human has the gall to laugh at Katsuki's anger. If they- he doesn't shut up soon, Katsuki will give him a broken nose so he can whistle every time he laughs like an idiot.

"I'm sorry, Katsuki- Kacchan. I'll keep saying sorry until you forgive me."

"Well then you better be saying sorry till the day you breathe your last. Shithead."

"Of course. You can count on me to."

Katsuki lets the silence fill with their breathing, he's too overwhelmed by how surreal this all feels. Because the person he imagined Anon to be, is that very person. That person with a boyish smile despite filling his body into a man's, with green curls that look too tame to compare to a bush now, with freckles that still made his cheeks glow more than he remembered them to glow.

"Deku," He mumbles after a while, trying to ignore the soft gasp that Izuku lets loose from hearing the familiar not-so-friendly nickname. "You sound just like Anon. There's no change in yer voice."

He's aware the way he's saying it makes it sound more like a statement rather than a question. But the question is there.

And Izuku, being the obnoxiously perceptive strategist genius he is, understands.

"I took out my voice modulator after the Yakuza infiltration." He says, his voice breathy and nervous.

"Stop bein' nervous."

"I'm not-"

"Don't even try to lie, Anon. If there is one thing I can tell, despite not knowin' it was you this entire time shitty Deku, is that I can tell when your lyin' through your teeth."

He hears that familiar nasally laugh that Anon releases when amused and when they realize they've been bested. Katsuki still finds it hard to comprehend that Anon is Izuku. And no he doesn't think he'll stop thinking that specific thought anytime soon.

"Of course you can." He sighs again. Katsuki shakes his head. That shitty sigher. "You're just that sugoi."

Now that Katsuki thinks about it, he hates that he hadn't realized sooner that Anon is Izuku. Because in their youth, Izuku would always say Kacchan is just that sugoi with that tone like he's on top of the world.

So Katsuki has the sudden impulse, the sudden need to see the other in person.

"We need to meet." He says, not regretting his word vomit for once.

Izuku stays silent and Katsuki patiently waits. Considering how disastrously they'd met last time, (Kastuki isn't going to touch alcohol ever again) he didn't blame Izuku for hesitating.

"When?"

"In two hours."

Again silence. It drags on and the only thing that lets Katsuki know that Izuku is there, listening, is the steady breaths fogging against the mic.

"Where?"

"Wherever. I just need to see you."

And the startled gasp Izuku releases makes Katsuki roll his eyes, makes him scoff in annoyance.

"Oi, you shithead. My patience is a rare thing, so ya better say somethin'."

Izuku curses and mumbles and Katsuki really hates that he didn't connect the dots until it was shoved in his face.

"Dek-"

"The park we used to hang out." Izuku fumbles over his words clumsily, his voice breathless from how quickly he speaks. "In two hours, at the park. Okay?"

Katsuki nods, forgetting Izuku can't exactly see him. He isn't Anon right now.

"Kacchan?"

"Huh, yeah. Fine Nerd." He snaps, his face reddening in embarrassment. "See ya then."

Before Izuku could respond, Katsuki shuts the phone, sits up on his bed and blinks blindly at the phone in his hands.

Just what the hell did he do?

***

Two hours pass by too quickly. And because of Katsuki's nerves, he reached the park thirty minutes earlier.

He's sitting in the plastic swing, the metal chains creaking as he lightly sways in the frigid breeze. He doesn't care that the cold has settled in his bones as he puffs out white smoke from his lips. He just grumbles softly when the snow starts to fall, tucking his red nose and cheeks in the scarf he wears.

To his surprise, he hears the frantic footsteps come closer to him fifteen minutes before the meet up time. He turns his head, eyes widening despite thinking a million times he wouldn't act surprised when he sees the Nerd again.

But he still can't believe it. Can't believe how big and how different Izuku's become; he also can't believe how similar he still is to his childhood self.

Katsuki stills the swing, staying seated as Izuku catches his breath. He's sure his throat is burning from the cold despite the All Might scarf wrapped around to cover the lower half of his face; once a fanboy, always a fanboy.

"Hey, Kacchan." Izuku breathes out, equally in disbelief as Katsuki feels.

"Nerd." He acknowledges. The single nickname he's called both Izuku and Anon seems fitting in this bizarre situation.

"You're early."

"So are you."

Izuku smiles, that same nasally laugh leaving him. It's nice to see the soft expression he makes with that sound.

"I guess I am." He sighs and it's like relief is seeping down his spine, and his hands are less tense with the nervous energy it was taut with moments ago.

Kastuki curses under his breath, hiding his face in his scarf again. So the sighing is a coping mechanism to get rid of his nerves. Just fantastic.

"Stupid sigher."

Izuku snorts, his hand covering his face as his eyes crinkle with mirth. Silently, he sits down on the swing beside Katsuki, swaying slightly while catching snowflakes in his gloved hands.

Silence is their common friend. Even when they were Deku and Kacchan or Anon and DynaMight, they always had quiet intervals that only made them comfortable with the other. And the silence accompanied in the winter chills is no different.

After a few moments, Katsuki starts swaying again, his gaze flitting to the green curls, the slope of a flushed nose and the curve of freckled cheeks. Izuku's still the same in those features. But then his gaze falls to the broadness of his shoulder, to the scars peeking from Izuku's outer wrist.

As brash as ever he takes Izuku's forearm, pulling up the sleeve to see the scars travel up his arm, the skin lifted and embossed from just how extreme they must've been.

He doesn't say a word, just stares at the scars, ignoring how Izuku is staring at his expression.

"Kacchan," Izuku mumbles, trying to capture his attention. "Katsuki."

And yeah, that does it. Katsuki snaps his head up, his carmine eyes burning into Izuku's soul.

"The hell happened to you?"

Izuku smiles and Katsuki snarls in reflex which makes Izuku only laugh that breathy laugh that has Katsuki's chest constrict.

"Training happened."

"Training?"

"Police force training."

Katsuki blinks, absolutely confused. "Police force?"

"Yeah." Izuku sighs and Katsuki sees him fidget his fingers. "Once upon a time, I wanted to be a police officer so I can be a hero in another way. It didn't work out in the beginning seeing as some exercises were very, um, practical when it came to self defense against quirks."

"Sensei was right, the system needs to effin' change." Katsuki seethes, his grip on Izuku's forearm tightening briefly before he lets go gently.

The dichotomy of Katsuki's harsh tone and his careful touch left Izuku to gawk at Katsuki's face.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Kacchan?"

Katsuki blinks again, processing the words that just flowed out of Izuku's mouth.

"What?"

"I said-"

"I heard ya the first time. The hell does that mean?!"

"You're so gentle." Izuku whispers, his eyes refusing to meet those red flames that started to grow brighter by the second.

"Huh?! I can be gentle!"

"That's not what I-"

Katsuki stands up, his hands holding the chains of Izuku's swing as he bends down and heaves breaths in Izuku's reddened face.

"I can be freakin' gentle," He hisses with his voice octaves low, his eyes harshly slanted in offense. "I know I ain't out on the field or when you're balkin' in my ear, but I can be. I have to be."

Izuku's staring at Katsuki's expression, the way it relaxes with every word, the way the sadness seeps into his brows and pools in his eyes.

"I have to be for the little kids who look up to my stupid ass. For all the people who consider me a hero. I can't let them down just 'cause I'm made to explode." He heaves and his breath is fogging in Izuku's face.

Even though Katsuki thinks he should do something about that, he frankly, doesn't for it. Not when he's impulsively laying himself bare for Izuku to see. Not when he's being vulnerable after such a long time.

"I can't." His voice cracks and splinters and with it a single tear goes down his cheek. "Not after I let you down."

Izuku's eyes water, his whole face flushed pink from the onslaught of tears just about to come. His hands in his lap are clenched in tight fists as he tries his best to hold his sobs in.

"Kacchan you didn't-"

"No, De- Izuku," And Katsuki ignores the watery gasp Izuku lets loose with the tears that start to fall past his green, green lashes. "You're gonna listen to what I say, and you ain't sayin' shit until I finish. Okay?"

Izuku's single nod is enough.

"I did fail you. I failed you as kids when I started callin' you Deku, I failed you when I stopped treating you as lesser cause you didn't have a quirk, I failed you when I pushed you and threatened you with a hand on your shoulder and my explosions burning through your shirt. I failed you when-" Katsuki pinches his brows and closes his eyes shut, his throat burning from the cold and his lungs feeling weak from how desperately the words are spilling from his mouth.

"When I told you to- to jump- I- fuck- when I-"

"Kacchan, it's-"

"No! shut up- I- I have to say it. Okay, Izuku." He whispers, his knuckles as white as the snow falling as he clenches the icy chains harder.

"I'm sorry. And I know the words aren't enough but I have to say it." He blinks more tears from his lashes, his vision too blurry to see Izuku's expression. "I shouldn't have said- shouldn't have taunted you to swan dive off a roof for something you can't control. I shouldn't have- I mean, how low could I go?" He laughs both disheartened and ashamed, the sound empty with despair and hollowed from his self-hatred. "I shouldn't have stayed silent after you still jumped in to save me- I shouldn't have ignored you even when you were trying to make amends and reassure you weren't gonna become a hero. I shouldn't-"

He bites his wobbly lip, his cheeks streaked with tears. Katsuki is twenty six years old, but he feels like he's six. He feels so small and so pathetic, so useless. Because he did all these things only to find the person who saved the world. The person who helped the heroes win time and time again is the very person he belittled.

"I shouldn't have said you couldn't become a hero. Cause you can- you did. And you're one of the best heroes out there." He sniffles, his eyes reluctantly meeting those green ones that remind him of the treetops from the little pocket of a forest they used to play in the summer sun as children. Remind him of that creek that started their deviation in the first place.

"I'm sorry Izuku. I'm so, so sorry. And I'll keep sayin' sorry till I breathe my last shitty breath."

Izuku says nothing, only cries softly as he sits still in the swing Katsuki, unintentionally, trapped him in.

And even though Katsuki should stay silent now, he can't help the soft call of "Izuku." He sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve and hiding his expression behind his bangs, because the shame is just too much. The pain of being the person who hurt this amazing human was just too much. "Please, please say something. Anything. I'll understand if you never want to speak again, and I'll accept if you hate me-"

Izuku bonks Katsuki's head, cursing under his breath as he watches Katsuki flinch in surprise.

"Shut up," Izuku bites, his eyes glowing with anger despite the overcast skies. "You can't- I don't hate you, Katsuki."

His name sounds like a slap to Katsuki's face. Because every time he's heard Izuku say it in that inflection of voice it makes him shrink and listen to his whims. But he's never seen the expression behind that tone. Izuku is both disappointed and angry, his brows twined together and his frown so deep Katsuki wants to wipe it off his face.

He lost that ability years ago. He knows this. Doesn't mean he can still try to reach out. Somehow.

"Izu-"

"I listened." Izuku interrupts, his gaze not meeting Katsuki's. "I listened and stayed quiet. Now it's your turn. So shut up and let me talk, you idiot."

Katsuki's too stunned to say anything more. So he nods, standing straight and keeping his clenched fists on his sides.

"Good." Izuku sighs and with it the anger wilts away. "Thank you for the apology. I really appreciate it. But-" Katsuki is facing to his left, painfully aware Izuku's staring at his sharp and pale side profile against the winter wind with his mortifying blotchy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

"I forgave you years ago. In fact I forgave you the moment you turned your back and left the room the day you threw the notebook out the window."

Katsuki whips his head to meet Izuku, and both stare at each other. Red in disbelief and green in the rare juxtaposition of peace and fury.

"Katsuki," He says his name as if he's pleading, as if he's the one who's guilty. It makes Katsuki want to punch him and hug him at the same time. "I know you in your youth was something." Katsuki scoffs and Izuku smiles. "However, I don't hold you accountable for it. Because the hero you became in just a few months after joining UA, the hero I met when we were third years was just as sugoi as I knew you'd be- as you are now."

Katsuki's lip wobbles and he hides his face beneath his bangs once again. And even though he knows Izuku can see just how distraught he is, how frustrated and how heartbroken he is, he lets the tears flow down his cheeks again.

"I don't hate you." Izuku stands up, putting a hand on Katsuki's shoulder.

It's warm, and it's the little comfort that makes him more emotional in this cold.

"I want you to know that. I don't care if I'll have to fight you until I'm battered black and blue for you to understand that simple fact."

"I'm not fightin' you." Katsuki says as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

"But I want to." Izuku, the damn bastard, pouts.

"You shit- Nerd. We. Are. Not. Fighting."

"Why? You afraid you'll lose?"

Katsuki grits his teeth, stepping one step closer in Izuku's space. He still can't get over the fact Izuku is taller now. "I know yer tryna get me angry and start a fight to prove some twisted truth 'bout how you're stronger, which you aren't even if you're taller and effin' smarter. But I ain't wastin' time on fightin' your freckled ass."

Izuku laughs out loud, the sound unbidden and overjoyed that he hugs his stomach and slaps his hand on Katsuki's shoulder.

"How do you remember I have a freckled ass?"

"I- I don't remember!" He screeches, "It's just common sense!"

"It's really not, Kacchan."

"Oi you Deku, I'll show you!"

Izuku dodges as Katsuki lunges forward to ruffle those curls he remembers doing as kids. And then he chases after him, letting the cold burn his eyes and scald his skin, letting it burn down his nose and throat even though he hates feeling that chill settle in his bones. And Izuku continues to laugh as he runs away from the hot headed childhood friend.

To think they'd be back in this park playing tag over twenty years later. Just the thought makes Katsuki smile big and wide as he runs in the snow with the sun peeking from the clouds and making the world sparkle white.

***

Winter has finally settled, the breeze picking up sweeter nodes from the flowers blooming all around, from the sakuras painting the streets pink too.

Katsuki finds this weather more tolerable, more memorable. Because when winter ends, spring begins. The season of birth and new starts. The season of blooming hope.

However, he can't enjoy spring as he wishes. Not with Izuku sulking again.

The Nerd has started this new habit. That whenever someone, an extra, opposes his strategy simply because they say he doesn't understand the full repercussions of quirk usage in certain ways due to his quirkless status, Izuku sulks.

And Izuku sulking isn't all fun and games. It's not even tears and cries.

It's silence. Silence and solitude.

Something Katsuki can't bear to see. Not when it reminds him of Izuku when they were in middle school.

The only solitude Izuku can find in this densely filled agency is the rooftop. Somewhere Katsuki still finds it hard to breathe. Because those words, those wretched and dishonorable words he once uttered, echo in his mind.

The first time Katsuki found Izuku there he screamed at the idiot. Screamed at what he was doing, what could possibly be so offensive for him to come to the rooftop and contemplate such terrible thoughts.

Izuku smiled, whispering in the icy wind then.

"The rooftop is where my dreams were both crushed and reborn. I just like to remind myself of them."

Katsuki didn't know how to respond then and he still doesn't know if he can respond to it now. But after then he simply sits next to Izuku and lets the silence envelop them. Let his warmth and his presence be enough for Izuku to know that he's here. That Izuku isn't alone.

Today, Katsuki finds Izuku's tears falling to his chin as he runs up the stairs before Katsuki can stop him.

So now, after a few hours of letting the nerd sulk and sob to his heart's content, he's stomping up the stairs, two All Might slushies in hand.

When he opens the door with his foot, he sees Izuku sitting on the ledge, the pink and orange dappled sunset sky making his green curls pop out more.

And from how Izuku's ear perks up, a creepy habit he apparently learned from facial muscle training years ago, Katsuki can tell Izuku's on high alert.

"Here," Katsuki says, ignoring how Izuku's shoulders stiffen. When he doesn't respond, Katsuki shoves the slushie in front of Izuku's ducked head with a gentle shake. "I ain't holdin' it forever.

Izuku, finally, looks up. And his face is a disastrous mess. Dried tears streak his freckled cheeks and his nose runs with redness flecking his skin. His eyes are puffy, webbed with veins and his lashes still clumped with moisture. And he's pouting, something Katsuki really finds annoying, as he stares blankly at the cityscape in front of them.

He glances at Katsuki's stern expression, then takes the slushie, sipping it slowly.

"It's good." Izuku mumbles, staring down the bright blue icy liquid and taking another sip. This time he sips it quicker, practically guzzles it and lets his cheeks fill before swallowing.

"Good," Katsuki says, sitting beside Izuku and taking a sip of his red slushie.

No wonder Izuku likes it; it's too sweet. Katsuki takes another big sip anyway.

When they both slurped their slushies to the end, the sun was dipping below the horizon, the skies turned purple and blue. Katsuki already put his aside, but Izuku kept sucking on his straw despite the annoying sound it made when finishing a drink.

"There ain't anymore left," Katsuki snaps in annoyance, "stop it-"

Izuku interrupts with another slurp.

And no, Katsuki didn't snatch it from Izuku's grip, and didn't chuck it out in the sky. That would be considered littering. Katsuki's a law abiding citizen, thank you very much.

"Litterbug," Izuku whispers, his lips barely tilting into a smile.

Katsuki takes it back. Yes, he's a litterbug, and he did throw the slushie cup into metropolitan oblivion. He'll take anything back to make Izuku smile.

"Whatever," he says instead, letting his shoulder lean against Izuku's, the warmth buzzing between them as the stars start to show.

"Why didn't you ever ask?" Izuku mumbles again, his eyes staring up at the sequined navy blanket above them.

"Ask what?"

"Ask why I never told you."

"Told me what?"

"Kacchan."

"Deku."

Izuku sighs and Katsuki knows this is his annoyed sigh and not his relieving-his-nerves sigh.

"Why didn't you ever ask why I never told you I was Anon sooner? Or rather that Anon was me?"

Katsuki puffs breath, relishing how white smoke no longer emits from doing so, as he leans back on his palms, ignoring the bite from the pebbles on the floor.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Katsuki asks, glancing at Izuku who is now fully glaring at him.

"Don't answer my question with a question."

"You told me when you were ready." Katsuki sighs; he hates- doesn't really mind- how Izuku's habits are becoming his. "As simple as that."

"Simple as that?"

"Yeah."

Izuku hunches his back, his hand covering his face as he mumbles something incoherent.

"What was that, Deku?"

"Why are you asking now?"

Katsuki's vein on his forehead was thumping now. The shithead was asking for a bonk to the head alright.

"Why are ya so hard to damn please?"

Izuku smiles, a half aborted laugh leaves him too, and the tension in Katsuki's jaw lessens.

"Thank you, Katsuki."

"For what?"

"Everything."

The spring breeze chills with the night and blows their hair as they stare at each other, both in content with their mutual friend, silence.

"Welcome, Izuku."

Izuku leans back, his shoulder meeting Katsuki's as he stares up at the sky with him.

They still had a long way to go, still needed to learn more, to trust more, to grow more. But here, with the pink petals dancing in the wind and the sweet air filling their lungs, Katsuki knows they'll be okay.

And when Izuku sighs, his shoulders finally slumping with relief and his smile finally shining like the stars above, Katsuki's own lips tilt upwards despite himself.

Yeah, they'll be okay.