Work Text:
Izuku thought things had changed, he thought they were better. He thought they were friends.
It’s been a whole month since Kamino and even while they’re all still a little shaken up, everyone’s settling back down into a somewhat ordinary routine. Bakugou’s been back at the dorms for just over a week. This is good, it’s an improvement. He’s here now, at least.
When Bakugou had first arrived at the dorms, it had been a shock to say the least. No one had geardbahtguhg from him since the rescue, and as the weeks had dragged on, everyone had become a little concerned. Then he had come bursting into the common room one night bearing crises and cuts, and according to those who had been there, he had promptly broken down in the middle of the room.
Izuku hadn’t been there when Bakugou had arrived, so he wasn’t entirely sure of what happened on the day. What he did know was that ever since then Katsuki had been acting off. He was distant most of the time, much quieter than his usual boisterous self. It was jarring to see the loudmouth so secluded, it was like he wasn’t even there sometimes, lost behind this mask he was putting on. He was normal enough around the rest of the Bakusquad, but whoever they were in more public spaces like the common room, or in classes, he simply shut off, sticking close to Kirishima.
To Izuku, who had seen Bakugou’s behaviour stay the same throughout their entire childhood, this sudden change was more than a little disconcerting. It almost seemed as though the fire inside Katsuki had gone out, like he no longer had any of the drive that had pushed him to be the best for so long.
Izuku knows Katsuki’s trying. He can see it in the ways he relaxes a little just in that short week he’s been back, sees it in the way he’s making an effort to get up and go to school, training alongside the rest of them. It’s in the way his eyes glean with an old spark reignighting, struggling to stay alight, in the way he slowly lowers his walls and stops simply shutting off or lashing out whenever anyone talks to him.
He wants to think that Katsuki’s trying with him too, wants to believe that their relationship is important enough for Bakugou to keep making an effort. They haven’t really interacted since Kamino, and as much as he wishes it wasn’t true, it’s beginning to become clear that he’s avoiding Izuku. Before he was kidnapped Katsuki and Izuku’s friendship had been going good, so much better than they had been even just a year ago. But now, well Izuku can’t help but feel as though Bakugou’s avoiding him on purpose rather than accidentally. He can’t help the hurt that blossoms in his stomach whenever the blonde bristles in his presence.
But it does hurt. It hurts that they’ve gone back to not speaking. Sure, it’s better than constant arguments and fighting each other until they’re both left sore and panting, but it’s not what they were before, when they’d finally begin confiding in each other again. It hurts because it feels like Izuku’s losing his oldest friend all over again. It hurts because it feels like a goddamn awful time loop, as though he’s destined to forever chase a friendship with someone who’s unable to care for him in the same capacity he does for them.
It’s mean and selfish to think like that, which Izuku is aware of, especially considering the traumatic experience Katsuki’s just gone through. But at the same time, he can’t help the doubt that seeps further into his mind the longer this silent treatment goes on for, until he’s been thoroughly poisoned by the deceitful nature of his overactive brain.
Izuku does try to talk to Katsuki a few times, approaching him before homeroom and after classes. Each time he’s either meubhith a snappy response or ignored entirely. They’ve been here before, but even then it’s hard to hide the way Bakugou’s harsh words sting, harder still not to internalise them, allowing their sharp edges to slice up the tender flesh of his insides until they’re impossibly twisted up.
After a handful of these interactions, Katsuki begins to rush off whenever he catches sight of Izuku approaching. At this point he’s ready to stop trying, zero doubt in his mind that Bakugou wants absolutely nothing to do with him. It’s devastating to Izuku.
And so he watches from afar as Katsuki continues to let more people in, laughing and joking with Mina, Denki and Sero. He’s even being friendly with Jirou, the two of them spending evenings together in the music rooms. Izuku’s honestly jealous of them all, because he wants to be able to make Kacchan laugh, he wants to spend time with him. He misses Katsuki an inordinate amount, more than he ever has before. Even when Bakugou had been bullying him, Izuku had at least been worth his time. Being ignored hurts more than any physical blow ever has.
Most of all, Izuku’s envious of Kirishima. Katsuki spends almost all of his time glued to the redhead’s side. It made sense that Bakugou would be most comfortable with his literal boyfriend, but a part of Izuku still couldn’t help but to think about him and Katsuki following each other around for most of their early childhood. The thought only makes him miss the blonde even more. It also makes him wonder what he was doing wrong. What was he doing so differently to anyone else that led to Katsuki’s aversion to him? Why was he never enough?
In the end Izuku takes these frustrations to his own boyfriend, finally letting out every one of his conflicting thoughts.
“I’m just starting to get so sick of always trying when I get absolutely nowhere with him.” Izuku admits quietly, laying across his bed, Shouto sat over by the desk.
“It’s like I always have to be the one to initiate anything, otherwise nothing will ever happen. It’s so tiring because he gives me absolutely nothing to go off of.” Izuku continues, waving his hands wildly as he speaks.
“Maybe he will come to you, if you give him some time. Bakugou’s not exactly the best at opening up and all that.” Shouto reasons thoughtfully.
“I know that. I know exactly how emotionally unavailable Kacchan is, but that’s not even what I'm asking for here. I just want him to at least acknowledge that I exist. That’s all I want right now. Don’t I at least deserve that much?” His hands drop in defeat as Izuku sighs.
“You do. You deserve that, and so, so much more. I’m not saying you don’t, not at all.” Shouto reassures, pausing for a moment before he continues. “I know it’s probably hard to think about, but maybe Bakugou’s not ready for some things yet. Maybe he’s getting the support he needs from others right now, and he’ll come to you when he’s ready to. You two have. very complicated past, you know? It’s kind of understandable that he’s not coping amazingly with everything after what happened at Kamino, even if it is really unfair to you. Which it is, and you’re more than entitled to feel hurt from being ignored, no matter the reason because you’ve done nothing to provoke it. But like you said, he’s not very good at dealing with his emotions, so it stands to reason that he’d ignore a problem rather than deal with it directly, especially if he has so many more problems that he doesn't have the choice to ignore. I really think if you give things some time then it will get better again.”
“I really miss him. And I’m really worried about him.” Izuku almost whispers, a sad tremble to his voice.
“I know you do.” Shouto replies gently, moving over to envelope Izuku in a hug.
“What if he never talks to me again?” It’s a fear that Izuku’s had for a whole, that one day he’ll wake up and whatever conversation he and Bakugou have had recently will be their last.
“He will. You’re both going through a really tough time at the moment, but it will get better.”
As it turns out, Shouto’s right. He usually is. It’s a while before anything happens, and Izuku’s all but given up on the idea that it ever will. Then, around a month after his return, Katsuki approaches Izuku after class one day.
“I think we should talk.” Bakugou’s clearly uncomfortable, fiddling with the hem of his blazer as he talks, not quite meeting Izuku’s eyes. Even so, it’s more than he’s done in months, and Izuku jumps at the chance to speak with the blond, handing on to the figurative outstretched arm like a lifeline. Shouto was right. Izuku was right. Bakugou’s making an effort.
They walk across campus together in silence, coming to a stop momentarily outside Katsuki’s dorm while the boy fumbles for his keycard. Once they’re inside, Bakugou gestures for Izuku to take a seat on the spinny chair by his desk, while he drops down to perch on the edge of the neatly made bed.
“So, um. I kinda messed this up.” Katsuki starts, still not making eye contact. “I told you I’d try to rebuild something between us and then when I came back from…” He stops suddenly, grimacing. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick recently and I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Izuku breathes out, relief washing over him. “I needed to hear that, so thank you. I was kind of scared that you really didn’t want anything to do with me and- well, thanks. Just, thank you.”
Wincing slightly at Izuku’s words, Katsuki goes on. “I do want to have something to do with you. I really do, Deku. I was- I was scared too, I suppose. Recently, it’s like I'm not always…here. It’s stupid, I know. But I’ve failed everyone and I just didn’t want to let you down again by being less than I should be. I did that anyway though.”
It’s rare to hear Bakugou talking like this, at least it is to Izuku. Admittedly it’s been a long time since they’ve had a deep conversation like this.
“I’m sorry you felt that way Kacchan. I’d never think that way of you, though. Especially not after all that’s happened recently.” Izuku replies, sincere. He does know that the past month had been challenging for the blonde, he just hadn’t realised to what extent.
“I think I came back here too soon, too.” Katsuki admits suddenly, bowing his head slightly in obvious shame. “I shouldn’t have until I was ready to face everyone, including you, Deku. It’s unfair to you that I didn’t.”
And, oh. Izuku wasn’t expecting that. The words tears pricking at his eyes, voice coming out thick and wobbly when he next goes to speak. “Why did you? If you weren’t ready, why come back at all?”
Izuku’s expecting Bakugou to bristle at the question, for him to refuse and answer. What he’s not expecting is a laugh. It’s a hollow sound, hauntingly void of any humour.
“Ah- funny story, that. A long one, too. Short version is this: The old hag went ballistic when I smashed a glass and tried to strangle me. Then she chased me for a bit when I ran away. And boom, I ended up here.”
“Kacchan that’s- that’s horrible.” Izuku cries, horrified at the ease with which Katsuki tells the story.
“It’s not- It’s not great, yeah. You can’t tell anyone though. Only shitty hair knows. And you now, I guess.” Bakugou replies awkwardly, an odd resignation to his voice, almost like he’d not been all too surprised by Mitsuki’s actions.
“Oh.” Is all Izuku manages to say for a moment. “We’ll, thanks for telling me. I won’t tell.”
“Tch. It’s fucking whatever.” A pause, in which Katsuki finally meets his eyes. “I am trying to do this whole friend shit. I’m not not very good at all the emotional stuff.”
“I know, Kacchan. Just- just please don’t ignore me like that again. I can take anything else, just not that.” Izuku’s practically begging, because he means it. He can’t go through that again.
“I- I'll try. That villain shit really fucked with me, but I promise I’ll try.”
“That’s good. Just try, and I’ll try too, deal?”
“Deal.”
Things get better between them after that. True to his word, Katsuki puts in the effort to rebuild their friendship. Once a week they study together for an hour or so after classes and while they still bicker endlessly, it’s usually lighthearted and easily resolved. Katsuki’s trying. Izuku’s trying. Slowly but surely, it’s paying off.