Archive of Our Own

Deku wakes up in a hospital bed. Somehow, it feels like this isn’t the first time. He blinks out the sunlight from his eyes, blinded by the rays streaming through the open window, flickers of light prickling in front of his eyes. Deku is warm despite being in the hospital, under the thin covers of a sterile room, stuck on a plastic bed and strapped to an IV tube. Deku fiddles with the pulse oximeter on his finger, calming down a bit as he fidgets. He’s not sure why he’s here, in an unfamiliar hospital room with unfamiliar faces napping in chairs beside his bed. He tries to rack his brain for any explanations for what he’s doing here, but all he can come up with is some kind of head injury. His forehead is throbbing.

Deku can’t remember much, but something tells him he’s a pretty reasonable person. So, he tries to be rational. His first instinct is to be terrified; he could have been kidnapped by villains or something for all he knows. But this hospital seems fairly unassuming, and the people at his bedside don’t seem like villains. But they are strangers. There’s a girl with brown hair and a round face sleeping on the shoulder of a boy with glasses. There’s a woman with dark green hair and a boy with hair that’s half red and half white. They don’t seem suspicious, but Deku is wary. He doubts they’re trustworthy. He wonders if there’s anybody who is trustworthy. Who can Deku trust?

An image flits past his eyelids. Something big and powerful, an orange explosion smelling of the sweet tinge of caramel. Deku inhales, trying to catch the smell as if he could hold it in a jar. But the scent of caramel is gone as quick as it came, and all that’s left is a slight ringing in Deku’s ears, as if TNT was set off inside his brain, and the faint remembrance of a name. Deku can feel his mind rearranging itself, trying to make sense of whatever vision he just had. Something is fixing itself in his head, a word cementing itself into his cells. Something permanent, something Deku can trust. Something victorious.

Kacchan.

“Kacchan,” Deku mumbles aloud, tasting the syllables on his tongue. It should feel childish, a little silly to say, but instead it simply feels right. This Kacchan is the only one who Deku can trust. He knows it like he knows that the green lightning running through his veins was not his from birth. He knows it like he knows that he is Deku. He’s not sure why he knows this, but he is certain that he is Deku and Deku needs Kacchan.

“Kacchan,” Deku says again, testing it out. It’s sweet in his mouth, taste buds alight with warmth and melting as the letters leave his lips, one by one. Deku has the oddest urge to lick the words back inside his mouth, as if that was somehow possible. There’s a clench in his heart, as if a rickety gear is being put back into place. The more times Deku says it, “Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan …” the more smoke clears out of his brain and he feels compelled to smile. So he does, mouth stretching into a grin as he covers his face with his fist, wondering why his eyes are filling with tears but his heart is filling with joy as he repeats the name again and again, until his mantra finally culminates with a sob. And then he’s crying into his hands, because where is Kacchan?

“Deku?” comes a voice, and Deku looks up from the shelter of his palms to see the girl with the round face stirring awake, blinking big eyes and looking up at Deku with concern, “why are you crying? Are you hurt? Should I call a nurse?”

Round Face jumps up from her chair, rushing over to Deku at the sound of his sniffles. She stands at the edge of his bed and reaches for him. Deku flinches.

This isn’t Kacchan.

“Don’t touch me,” Deku says, eyes narrowed. Round Face’s gaze turns to hurt for a moment, before she nods and steps back. She presses a button on Deku’s bed, presumably the call button for the doctor, before turning back to Deku.

“Are you...okay?” Round Face asks, “I mean, you were unconscious for half a day so obviously not, but is there an untreated wound somewhere? Did the surgery fail?”

“I-” unconscious? Half a day? Surgery? “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Deku,” Round Face blinks, “What’s gotten into you? What’s wrong?”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Deku says, sure of it, “I don’t trust you.”

“Deku,” Round Face’s eyes widen, “you don’t know who I am?”

Deku crosses his arms. “All I know is that you’re not Kacchan.”

“Kacchan …” Round Face mutters, “Bakugou? You want to see Bakugou?”

“I want to see Kacchan,” Deku corrects, “I don’t know who Bakugou is.”

“I-” the girl starts, but she’s interrupted by the door opening and a doctor walking in. The girl’s expression turns to relief, “something’s wrong with Deku!”

The nurse nods. “Is it one of his injuries? Or something else?”

“He’s not-” Round Face’s voice trembles, “he doesn’t remember me. He says he wants to see Bakugou-our friend-but he doesn’t know me. He doesn’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust anyone,” Deku cuts in, “I don’t know who any of these people are,” he gestures to the three people in his room who are still sleeping, though slowly waking at the noise. “I don’t know who any of you are and I don’t want to talk to you.”

“It could be a memory quirk,” the nurse tells Round Face, “do you know the quirk of the villain you fought?”

“It was a memory quirk,” someone else speaks up, the boy with the glasses, “does Midoriya really not remember you, Uraraka? Or any of us?”

“Who’s Midoriya?” Deku frowns, “I’m Deku.”

“He doesn’t remember his real name?” the boy with half and half hair frowns.

The green-haired woman gets up from her seat, eyes wobbling with unshed tears. Deku frowns and scoots away, but she keeps moving closer.

“Izuku, honey,” she says, “do you remember me?”

Izuku, Deku thinks. That name sounds a bit more familiar. His last name? A middle name? But it’s not his real name. It sounds familiar, but still wrong.

“My name is Deku,” Deku repeats, “and I don’t know who you are.”

The woman looks crestfallen, tears spilling out of her eyes. “Oh, Izuku-”

“Don’t call me that!” Deku snaps, “my name is Deku, and I want to see Kacchan!”

“Katsuki?” the woman says, “you remember Katsuki?”

“She means Kacchan,” Round Face interjects, “do you remember Kacchan?”

“Not-not really,” Deku says honestly, “I just know I need to see him.”

“Definitely a memory quirk,” the doctor says, “I’ll go speak with Detective Tsukauchi. They have the villain in detainment, we’ll figure this out.”

“Thank you,” the woman says, “please update us.”

“I’ll send all details over to Uraraka,” the doctor points to Round Face, and Deku mentally registers her name. The doctor then leaves the room, and Uraraka walks back to the seats by Deku’s bedside. The woman stays hovering over Deku, who recoils.

“Izuku-” the woman says again, and then winces before amending, “Deku-oh God, Izuku. I can’t call you that awful nickname, I’m so sorry-”

“We use as you can do it now,” Uraraka offers, “does that help?”

“I can’t,” the woman shakes her head, “not when I know the connotation-”

“Deku is my name,” Deku interrupts, patience dwindling. All he wants is to see Kacchan, and these people are denying him of that, “it’s-it’s my name.”

“Izuku-” the woman shakes her head, but Glasses cuts her off.

“Deku, can you tell us whatever you can remember?”

Deku inhales, breath sharp as his fist slams on the armrest of his bed. He can feel anger building up, something rising in him like the prequel of an explosion. 

“I’m not telling you anything until I see Kacchan!”

“Let him be,” Half and Half says, even as the Glasses’ mouth opens, trying to say something. Uraraka sits back down, looking questioningly at Half and Half.

“He’s coming,” Half and Half responds, and Uraraka nods. Glasses also sits back down, and eventually the green-haired woman joins them. They sit in silence occasionally looking at Deku, who turns away from them and looks out the window. He likes the yellow brightness of the sun; it warms up his room and places Deku right in the middle of a sunspot. He soaks up the heat and lets himself be surrounded by the sun. The sun, made of fire and starlight. Larger than life. It reminds Deku of Kacchan.

Kacchan, Deku thinks again, longing, yearning. He draws his knees up to his chest, eyes darting anxiously every which way. In the minutes that follow, he placates himself by mouthing Kacchan’s name over and over again, slowing his racing heart. For the first time Deku wonders who Kacchan is, but doesn’t question why he wants to see him so badly. Whoever Kacchan is, it doesn’t matter because it’s Kacchan. His Kacchan (Deku doesn’t know where that came from, but it’s another of the few things he’s certain of). It’s his Kacchan, and in the same way, Deku knows that he is also Kacchan’s. Whoever this caramel dynamite supernova is, Izuku belongs to him.

The door slams open.

“Where the hell is Deku?”

His explosion is here.

“Kacchan?” Deku calls, sitting straight up in bed and craning his neck to see into the front of his hospital room, “Kacchan! I’m here, Kacchan!”

“Deku?” Kacchan calls out, then rounds the corner to where Deku can see him, and oh, wow. Deku’s Kacchan is tall and carries himself with the air of someone important. He looks like a king to Izuku, blond and broad-shouldered. Deku can see muscles through his tank top and a powerful stride under his distressed jeans. Deku’s breath hitches as Kacchan walks towards him; his hair is spiky but Deku has a feeling it’s secretly soft, and his eyes are this deep, fiery crimson red that leaves Izuku gasping. Deku can’t stop his eyes from filling with tears, and a smile spreads across his face. He must look a bit like a small child, arms reaching out, eyes wide with wonder.

“Kacchan,” Deku whispers, “you’re here.”

“Yeah, Deku,” Kacchan nods, leaning over the bed to take Deku’s outstretched hands, placing them on his shirt for Deku to gratefully clutch onto. Kacchan’s hands hover over his face, and when Deku nods he moves to dry his tears, cupping his face, scanning him over for injuries. Deku is so warm all of a sudden, so taken care of.

“I’ve got you,” Kacchan says, and Deku believes it, “what’s wrong, Deku? Round Face says you’ve lost all your memories, but you still remember me. That true?”

Deku nods, giggling. Kacchan raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“You called her Round Face,” Deku laughs, “that’s what I was calling her!”

Kacchan barks out a surprised laugh. “Really? That’s interesting.”

“I guess it’s ‘cause that’s what Kacchan calls her,” Deku shrugs, “I was waiting for Kacchan, all this time. Kacchan is the only one I can trust, I know that.”

“That’s not true,” Kacchan denies, “you can trust all of them, too.”

“No,” Izuku shakes his head, “just you, Kacchan. I can only trust you.”

Kacchan looks momentarily caught off guard, but then just nods. “Okay, Deku. Look at me. What else can you remember, huh? Is it just me?”

Deku nods, melting under Kacchan’s warm touch. “Just Kacchan.”

“Just my name? Hey, Deku, answer me. Just my name, or all of me?”

“Just your name,” Deku answers belatedly, “and that I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“Oh,” Kacchan swallows, and for a moment something in his eyes is heartbroken. Deku has never wanted anything to go away more. He wishes Kacchan was happy.

“Yeah,” Kacchan suddenly lets go of Deku, much to his chagrin. Kacchan seems to since his discomfort and offers a hand out, and Deku grabs onto it with both of his, thankful. He starts playing with Kacchan’s fingers as Kacchan turns to everyone else, “it’s some stupid fucking memory quirk. Maybe he remembers me ‘cause of all our shit. Or maybe I’m the person he wants to forget or hates the most or some shit.”

“No!” Deku shrieks, so loud everyone flinches. Kacchan’s gaze turns wrenchingly concerned, and Deku just keeps shaking his head. “I don’t hate Kacchan, I don’t.”

“You don’t even remember me,” Kacchan says, carefully.

“Doesn’t matter!” Deku argues, “I know that I could never hate Kacchan.”

“Okay, Deku,” Kachan nods, “I was just messing around, anyway. Someone needs to go talk to that fucker Deku was fighting earlier. Must be the villain’s shitty quirk.”

“I’ve got updates coming in from Tsukauchi,” Uraraka says, pointing to her phone, “me, Iida, and Todoroki can go and deal with the villains. Why don’t you take Deku back to UA, since he seems to want to stay with you, and Inko can-”

“It might be better for you to go home, Auntie,” Kacchan says regretfully, “we’ll tell you when De-Izu-uh, Deku, gets his memories back. It’s probably better.”

“I understand, Katsuki,” the woman-Inko nods, walking over to Kacchan and bringing him into a hug. Deku watches as Kacchan stiffens, surprised, before slowly wrapping his arms around Inko’s waist. Kacchan steps back after a moment, and slowly everyone in the room shuffles out, leaving Deku with concerned looks before the door closes behind Uraraka’s small frame. And then it’s just Kacchan and Deku.

“I’ll go ask the doctor if you’re good to go,” Kacchan says, drumming his fingers on the railing of Deku’s bed, “and then we’ll go back to UA. God, fuck this.”

Deku can’t help it, he laughs. Kacchan looks at him.

“I like it when you swear,” Deku explains, shy, “it, um, it feels familiar. Good.”

“Huh,” Kacchan smiles a bit, and Deku revels in it, “of fucking course. Only you, Deku. Only fucking you.” Kacchan shakes his head, laughing to himself. Deku’s confused at his reaction, but he's already decided that he loves watching Kacchan laugh, so he keeps quiet. Eventually Kacchan runs a hand through his hair and looks back at Deku, putting a hand on his face and stroking his cheekbone with a thumb, just once. Deku smiles, sighs in contentment.

“Okay, Deku,” Kacchan says, “let’s get your memories the fuck back.”

Deku sits on his hospital bed and clings to the hem of Kacchan’s shirt while he talks to the doctor. Deku just watches Kacchan, notices how his brows seem permanently furrowed in anger, watches as whenever the doctor says something Kacchan doesn’t like he’s quick to yell. Deku tilts his head in confusion as he watches Kacchan scream when the doctor tries to get him to leave the room, leaving Deku alone, and somehow Deku knows that this Kacchan is synonymous with his Kacchan. The angry Kacchan in front of him whose forehead is wrinkled and voice is cruel is the same as the Kacchan who so tenderly held his face in his hands and is still letting Deku hold his shirt.

Kacchan is not one sided, it seems. And Deku wants to get his memories back more than anything else, so he can remember every side that Kacchan has.

Eventually the doctor finishes all the checkups he needs to do on Deku, and he allows him to be discharged. Deku sighs out in relief, squeezing Kacchan’s hand. The doctor leaves the room and Kacchan helps Deku out of his hospital bed, reaches into his bag and brings out a change of clothes for Deku to put on. Kacchan goes to the bathroom while Izuku pulls off his hospital gown and slips on the basketball shorts and the black shirt with an orange X in the center he’s been given. Deku frowns at the shirt, something about it is very familiar. It reminds him of Kacchan, somehow.

“Hah,” Kacchan steps out of the bathroom, “you look good in my shit, Deku.”

“These are Kacchan’s clothes?” Deku shrinks into them, inhaling the caramel scent of them and blushing a bit. “They did remind me of you.”

“Nah, they’re your clothes,” Kacchan replies, picking up his bag and walking towards the door, “that shirt’s just my merch. You have a fuckton of it, fanboy.”

“Kacchan has merch?” Deku scrambles to follow him out the door, “what for?”

“We’re in our second year at UA now. We all get our own hero merch and shit.”

“Hero merch…” Deku blinks, and then nods, “oh, yeah! ‘Cause Kacchan’s a hero!”

“Not yet, dumbass,” Kacchan snorts, “and you are too. We’re training to be pros. You don’t even remember that much? You remember what quirks are?”

“Yes, Kacchan, I remember what the backbone of our society is founded on,” Deku snarks a bit, just to see Kacchan’s eyes light up, “I remember quirks and heroes and everything. It just slipped my mind that Kacchan is going to be a hero. So cool!”

“Again, Deku, so are you,” Kacchan steps into the hospital elevator, “you have your own cool as fuck merch, too. I’ll show you when we get back to the dorms.”

“Okay, Kacchan!” Deku bounces on his feet, “say, Kacchan, what’s your quirk?”

“You don’t remember?” Kacchan’s eyes are alight again, “fuck yeah, I was too little to remember your first reaction to my quirk. Now I get to see your bigass eyes and your little brain explode in wonder over my fucking amazing quirk all over again.”

“Sounds exciting, Kacchan,” Deku says seriously. He is excited now, Kacchan’s quirk has to be just like him. Larger than life, amazing. A supernova, a cluster of stars.

“I’ll show you back at school,” Kacchan promises, “now come on, Deku. We gotta catch the train leaving now, otherwise we’ll be stuck here until after fucking sunset. And I’d rather that not fucking happen, cause knowing the danger magnet you are we’ll get ambushed by another villain and then you’ll get hit by another shitty quirk.”

Deku laughs. “You’re funny, Kacchan.”

Kacchan side-eyes him. “I have never in my life been told that.”

“Not even me?”

“Not even you.” Kacchan leads Deku outside of the hospital and into the sunlight, and Deku basks in the warm weather outside. They walk in relative silence to the train station, Deku lagging a little behind Kacchan while holding his hand, looking around at all the people milling about. Kacchan just drags Deku along the sidewalks, looking down at his phone to find the train schedule, most likely. They reach the train station in a few minutes, and when Kacchan lets go of Deku’s hand to pay their tickets, Deku feels a shudder go through him. He feels empty, all of a sudden. Lost. The moment Kacchan’s hand is free again, Deku grabs it and squeezes, all the tension leaving his body.

“The hell is wrong, Deku?” Kacchan asks, squeezing back.

“I only feel safe when I’m touching you,” Deku answers. He likes the way Kacchan’s face turns pink; it makes his heart swoop a little. Kacchan doesn’t say anything, just huffs and grips Deku’s hand a little tighter. Deku smiles.

The train ride is mostly uneventful, Deku falls asleep halfway through and wakes up on Kacchan’s shoulder. He takes a moment to admire Kacchan, this boy he knows next to nothing about but also knows for sure that he can trust, that he knows him better than anyone and loves him more than anything. Kacchan is so soft when he thinks nobody’s looking, his brows are finally relaxed as he stares out the window, the slope of his nose ending in an angled point, his jawline sharp and cheekbones perfectly slanted. Deku wonders if it’s possible to be as attractive as Kacchan is, if his mind is playing tricks on him. Although his mind is kind of on the fritz right now, but still. Even then, Deku doesn’t think his mind is capable of lying to him about Kacchan.

Not for the first time, he wonders. Who is Kacchan to Deku?

They get off the train a few minutes later, and Kacchan leads Deku off the train, still by the hand. They end up at a large school campus, UA, as Kacchan told him. Deku has vague knowledge of this school, the most famous hero school in Japan. A school that he got into with his borrowed quirk (he’s still not too sure where he got it from, though, or why he had to borrow a quirk in the first place). A school that Kacchan got into as well, with a quirk that must be amazing from the way Kacchan talks about it. Kacchan walks Izuku through the gates and onto a side path that takes them to an area called Heights Alliance. Kacchan explains that they live in dorms now, but that it’s a recent change.

“Why’d they change it?” Deku asks, and Kacchan tenses.

“I’m not sure if I should tell you.”

“Why not?” 

“On the off chance it fucks with your memory.”

“Do you think I might remember something?” Deku asks hopefully.

“Yeah, but it could make you panic or freak out or some shit. Don’t think it’s worth it just to get you to remember. Most memory quirks wear off on their own anyway.”

“Kacchan,” Deku murmurs, “would you tell me anyway?”

“Deku-” Kacchan starts, “it’s a bad fucking idea-”

“Please,” Deku sniffles, “I want to remember, Kacchan.”

“Okay,” Kacchan says as they walk towards the dorms, “I was kidnapped.”

Deku gasps. “What?”

“A year ago,” Kacchan continues, “I was kidnapped by this group of villains who we’ve been fighting for a while, and after that we were moved to dorms to keep us all together under higher security or some shit. I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause me getting kidnapped did a whole fucking number on you, too. I don’t want it to mess with you.”

Kacchan got kidnapped. Deku tries to remember that, closing his eyes. He can see images in his mind’s eye, of Kacchan getting sucked through a portal, of himself screaming, running for dear life, calling out Kacchan's name like a dying man. Deku remembers hands wrapped around Kacchan’s neck, he remembers yelling to give him back once and then again. He remembers screaming Kacchan, over and over again, and he remembers how it felt when Kacchan was taken. His broken screams. A total loss.

“I remember,” Deku says, voice wobbling, “Kacchan, I remember.”

“Shit,” Kacchan’s eyes widen, “so talking about memories triggers them, I guess.”

“Maybe,” Deku sniffles, “I can’t believe-Kacchan, you were kidnapped -”

“It was a long time ago,” Kacchan reassures, “I’m okay, Deku. See? Just fine.”

“Yeah,” Deku holds onto Kacchan’s arm with both hands just in case, pulling him closer just in case his presence is a lie, just in case someone tries to take Kacchan away from him again, because Kacchan doesn’t belong to him but at the same time he does. Deku doesn’t know how to explain it, he just knows. Kacchan and Deku are intertwined in something so complex that Deku couldn’t even try to put it into words. He doubts Kacchan, even with the entirety of his memories intact, would be able to either.

The memories come back slowly but surely, after that. When they walk into the dorms, the first people Deku sees are the ones who were in the hospital with him, minus the green-haired woman who Kacchan told him was his mother. Deku is filled with a horrible pang of guilt, knowing that somehow he’s forgotten his own mother, but the rest of him is still jumpy, buzzing with suspicion whenever he thinks about the woman who is apparently his mother. Something in him still says that Deku can trust nobody but Kacchan. Kacchan, who lets Deku hold his hand all the way through the dorms, even as people look at them in confusion. Kacchan stops them in the middle of what he says is the common room, a place that’s achingly familiar to Deku. There’s eighteen or so people gathered around in front of them, Uraraka, Glasses, and Half and Half sitting at the front of the room. They all look concerned, watching Deku worriedly.

Deku learns that Glasses’ name is Iida, and Half and Half is Todoroki. This is after he addresses him by the nicknames he gave them, and both of them looked shocked and Kacchan started laughing like a madman. Apparently those are also the nicknames Kacchan gave them. And apparently Deku would never give his friends insulting names like that. Because those are his friends. And Deku doesn’t know or trust them at all.

“Here’s the deal, fucking extras,” Kacchan starts tactfully, and Deku can’t help but giggle. Kacchan side-eyes him and shakes his head. 

“You shouldn’t call people extras, Kacchan,” Deku tells him.

“Good luck getting him to stop,” snorts a redhead sitting on one of the sofas. Deku can’t trust him, either. But he does seem nice enough, with a shark-like but kind smile.

“Not the point, Shitty Hair,” Kacchan interrupts, “Deku was hit by that shitty villain’s quirk when he was fighting him. He’s lost almost all of his memory, the only person he remembers is me and that’s a very limited amount. He also only responds to Deku for some reason, so don’t call him Izuku or Midoriya. I don’t know shit about the villain’s quirk, but so far it looks like talking about memories triggers Deku to remember them-”

Deku, who was already frowning, startles at the way Kacchan said those names that don’t sound like his names; they sound foreign and wrong on Kacchan’s tongue. Izuku can’t identify with Midoriya at all, and Izuku sounds odd from Kacchan’s mouth. Like the syllables are fresh on his tongue. He’s sounding them out. Deku thinks it’s pretty, the way Kacchan speaks, stumbles the slightest bit over Izuku. But, he’s Deku.

“Actually,” Round Face-Uraraka-inputs, “I have more information on the villain’s quirk. Tsukauchi was able to get some stuff out of him using Shinsou’s quirk at the station, and he sent me the updates. I can tell you or I can just give you a copy of the papers, if that’s more helpful. But I figured everyone would want to know…”

“Just tell us, Round Face,” Kacchan says. Uraraka nods, looking unfazed by the nickname, which means Kacchan must call her by that name often. She reaches for a manila envelope next to her and opens it, tipping out the contents. She reads off a piece of paper, and Todoroki and Iida as well as whoever’s near lean closer to read off it too.

“It’s a classic memory loss quirk,” Uraraka reads flatly. She sounds disappointed, like she expected something more. “You get hit with it, you lose all your memories. You’ll gradually get them back during the next twenty-four hours, but important memories or ones with strong emotions tied to them can be triggered through actions or words. There is also a general feeling of suspicion reported by victims of the quirk, which explains why Deku’s been so distrusting of us. What it doesn’t explain is how he came to decide his name is Deku, or how he still remembered Baku-uh, Kacchan’s name.”

“Strong emotions,” Kacchan mutters, “Deku remembered my kidnapping earlier when I told him about why we’re stuck in these shitty dorms. So that makes sense. Maybe one of you did something that reminded him of me when he first woke up? Theoretically, that could’ve triggered him into remembering me, because of all our shit there’s no way there ain’t strong emotions in Deku’s memories of me.”

“That would be a reasonable explanation,” Iida says, “except that none of us were awake when Mid-Deku first woke up. Uraraka woke up to him saying your name.”

Kacchan turns to him, frowning. “So you just remembered me by yourself?”

“I don’t know,” Deku shrugs, “I just thought about people I can trust and somehow I remembered your name. And I just knew that you were trustworthy. That’s it.”

“I don’t fucking get it,” Kacchan sighs, “but it ain’t worth worrying about right now. We know about the quirk, so what the hell should we do now?”

“We could try to trigger his important memories back?” Todoroki suggests.

“I think we should just let the quirk wear off,” Uraraka argues, “it’s only for twenty-four hours and Deku was unconscious for eight of them. Since then it’s been four hours. By the time Deku wakes up tomorrow, he’ll have his memories back.”

“Fine,” Kacchan says, “Deku, you’ll just hafta deal with this for the rest of the day. Thank fuck this shit isn’t for a whole goddamn week or something. That’s good?”

“Perfect, Kacchan,” Deku answers, on autopilot. Everyone looks at him weird, and he amends. “Well, not perfect, but the best it can be given the situation.”

“There’s our Deku,” Uraraka laughs quietly, “always staying positive.”

“You feelin’ better?” Kacchan asks, “you don’t still think all the extras aren’t trustworthy, do ya? ‘Cause I may not like them but I do know you can fuckin’ trust them.”

Deku looks at the sea of people who call themselves his friends. His brain is sending him a danger signal, but when he remembers that Kacchan trusts them, it’s easier for Deku to trust them, too. “Yeah,” he tells Kacchan, “I can override the part of me that’s feeling suspicious now that I know you trust them. That’s a good sign, right?”

“For fucking sure,” Kacchan nods, “hey, Deku, you wanted to see my quirk, yeah?”

Deku’s eyes light up, “yes! I’m so excited, Kacchan!”

“Hell yeah,” Kacchan smirks, “I’ll go change and then I can show you, okay?”

Deku bobs his head up and down, grinning. “Okay, Kacchan!”

Kacchan turns around and leaves the kitchen, Deku watching after him, the breath kicked out of his lungs as Kacchan gets farther and farther away. The ten minutes Kacchan is gone are much more excruciating than Deku expected. Even though Uraraka and Todoroki move to sit on either side of him, Deku doesn’t feel safe until they scoot over so they’re on the ends of the sofa and he’s sitting gingerly in the middle. His hands itch to touch the hem of Kacchan’s shirt, run his fingers through that blond hair, grab his waist and hold on tight. But Kacchan isn’t here and Deku is fidgety, wringing his hands and looking down at the floor, trying to ignore the eighteen strangers watching him worriedly. But these people know him, apparently, and Deku doesn’t trust them. The only person he trusts is all the way upstairs, far from his eyesight and nowhere near arm's length. And though it’s only been five minutes, Deku doesn’t feel safe.

“Deku,” Uraraka asks softly, “are you okay? You’ve been frowning.”

“Huh?” Deku looks up, “I’m fine, it’s just that Kacchan’s gone.”

“Do you…” Todoroki starts from the other side of the couch, looking over at Deku with blank, scrutinizing eyes, “only feel safe around Baku-Kacchan?”

Deku nods. “He’s the only one of you who I know. Kacchan makes me feel protected. When I’m with him I feel like nothing could ever hurt me because he’s there.”

“You know,” Uraraka says, gaze pensive, “I think I understand why you only feel safe around, uh, Kacchan. I don’t know if you remember it without your memories since you only know of Kacchan, but there’s something that you always call him.”

Todoroki nods, catching on. There’s something sad in Todoroki’s mismatched eyes and Uraraka’s big brown ones, something melancholy but accepting. These are Deku’s friends, he remembers. They must be sad that he doesn’t trust them. And some part of him does feel bad, but the rest of him is still clinging, longing for Kacchan. Reaching out for the one person he truly knows. The person who he belongs with.

“I don’t remember,” Deku shakes his head, then implores, “what is it?”

Uraraka sighs and then smiles, truly genuine.

“He’s your image of victory.”

“Alright, Deku,” Kacchan says as they walk to the UA training grounds, the hot evening sun beating down on them and brushing Kacchan’s shoulders and head with an angelic light. The spikes of his hair shine under the sky, turning a deep gold and making his skin pale against his black tank top and sweats. Deku trails the slightest bit behind him, gripping the back of Kacchan’s shirt as they walk. “Ready to see my quirk?”

“Yeah!” Deku grins, and then pauses, contemplating. “Kacchan?”

Kacchan turns to look at him, red eyes gleaming in the sunlight, “yeah?”

“Um, I don’t know why I didn’t think to ask this before,” Deku starts, “but what’s my quirk? All I know is that it, um, isn’t mine. It’s borrowed, but what is it exactly?”

“You know it’s borrowed?” Kacchan raises an eyebrow, “huh. Your quirk is called One for All, it was given to you by All Might. The retired number one hero.”

“All Might,” Deku says, and he’s assaulted with images of red, white, and blue, of yellow hair and a bright smile. “I am here!” plays in his mind, dragging piles upon piles of trash on Dagobah beach into an orderly pile to gain strength. He remembers a video played on a computer over and over until his eyes were strained and his body tired.

“I remember All Might,” Deku says, “I think. A little.”

“Do you remember your quirk now?”

“I think so,” Deku nods, “All Might gave me All For One. It’s been passed down through generations and I’m the current holder of the quirk.”

“Yeah,” Kacchan nods, “that’s fucking it. Those memories are comin’ back fast.”

“I mean, they don’t totally come back,” Deku says. Kacchan frowns.

“The hell does that mean?”

“It’s like, the visceral emotions and images of what happened come back,” Deku explains, “but they’re disjointed. Disconnected. I can’t remember the before and after, nor the cause and effect. It probably won’t come back in full until the quirk wears off. It makes sense, considering that most memory quirks last for only a day or so but usually memories aren’t able to be triggered back before then...so if this one also lasts twenty-four hours but memories are able to come back it makes sense that they wouldn’t come back completely, that they would be detached and not fully there yet…”

Deku trails off, suddenly distracted by the way Kacchan is looking at him. They’ve stopped walking now, having apparently reached their destination, and Kacchan is gazing at him so softly. His eyes are fond, the slightest bit crinkled in the corners as he stands and looks over at Deku mumbling to himself. Kacchan’s mouth is quirked into a small smile.

He’s beautiful.

Deku blushes. “What?” he asks, a bit self-consciously.

“Nothin’,” Kacchan turns away, “you're just muttering again. You do that shit all the fucking time, but you haven’t talked this much since that damn quirk hit you. You go fucking nuts for quirk analysis, you know. You must be getting some of it back.”

“Oh,” Deku says, “I didn’t even realize. That’s good!”

“Yeah,” Kacchan agrees, “now stand back and watch, Deku. I’m about to show you the coolest fucking quirk in all of history. Ain’t a single quirk out there that can beat me.”

“You are the best, Kacchan,” Deku beams. Kacchan looks taken aback for a moment, before just nodding, expression smug at Deku’s praise. Per Kacchan’s instructions Deku steps back a bit, and Kacchan looks at him and grins. Deku watches in awe as he stretches his arms out, palms upturned, and points them skyward.

Then, one by one, he fires off explosions into the air.

Deku’s mouth falls open as he watches; he’s never seen anything like this. One after the other in quick succession, Kacchan gives Deku a fireworks show. His blasts are targeted and controlled, shooting off into the sky and creating a spectacle of fire and smoke that swirls across the deep blue sky. The orange of Kacchan’s explosions blends with the beginnings of the sunset, and Deku is in absolute awe as Kacchan lets his quirk go wild; the only sound to be heard is the loud pop of every blast Kacchan creates.

Eventually Kacchan’s arms tire, and the lights show stops. Kacchan brings his hands down and wipes the grime on his sweatpants, breathing heavily as he turns to look at Deku. There’s a sheen of sweat covering his skin, and Deku can see his collarbone lift and fall with his every breath. Kacchan’s grin is strung up on one side, a triumphant victory smirk that brings flashes of a memory into Deku’s head. Him and Kacchan on this very battleground, fighting at full strength, Deku’s powerful green lightning shielding him from Kacchan’s handmade fiery explosions. Deku also remembers losing.

“Nitroglycerin,” is the first thing Deku says. Kacchan’s eyes widen, surprised.

“You remember?”

“Your palms secrete nitroglycerin, and you make your explosions with that,” Deku continues, “I remember, Kacchan. I remember your quirk. It’s amazing. I’ve never seen something so beautiful, Kacchan. Your control is impeccable, you’re amazing.”

“Hell yeah, I am,” Kacchan replies, smirk still intact.

“And I also remember…” Deku blinks, images of fighting Kacchan under a starry sky coming back to him once more, “we fought here. We fought, once.”

Kacchan grimaces, but speaks the truth. “More than once, Deku.”

“More than once,” Deku murmurs, “Kacchan, can you use your quirk again?”

Instead of answering Kacchan just shrugs, holding one arm up his time, bent at the elbow, and letting off a smaller set of explosions. These bring a different feeling flickering through Deku’s body. These explosions are short and smoky, leaving trails of gray singe trailing up from Kacchan’s hands. They float in the air towards Deku, and he watches as Kacchan’s hands produce ash that Deku can remember feeling on his skin.

A calloused, cruel hand on his shoulder, burning through his gakuran. A burn mark scarring his notebook, thrown carelessly out the window. Kacchan standing over Izuku, so powerful over Izuku’s uselessness, sneering down at him before walking away, nothing but ice in his voice as he says, as Deku remembers when his Kacchan said-

“Take a swan dive off the roof, and pray for a quirk in your next life.”

Kacchan whips around faster than Deku can see. In less than a second his expression has changed, his smirk fallen slack-jawed, eyes wide and almost fearful. His face is pale as he wipes sweat off his forehead and just stares. He looks terrified.

“Deku, you-you remember that?”

“Those smaller explosions,” Deku explains, voice shaking the tiniest bit, “you’ve used those on me once. You told me to jump off the roof of our middle school-”

“Fuck,” Kacchan closes his eyes, and Deku’s heart clenches at the tear rolling down Kacchan’s cheek, “how did I not think my quirk would trigger those memories? Fuck, I’m such a fucking idiot.” Kacchan’s eyes open, pleading, “Deku, I-”

“It’s okay, Kacchan,” Deku says, stepping closer to Kacchan, needing to reassure him, “I remember. We were friends, but then I was quirkless, and then you bullied me. You bullied me, but then we got to UA and you atoned, and apologized. You apologized.”

“Yeah, only a few months ago, though,” Kacchan stares at the floor, “it should’ve been sooner. It should’ve been so much sooner. It should never have had to fucking happen in the first place, these shouldn’t be memories you even fucking have -”

“Kacchan,” Deku says, pleads for him to listen-

“-but you do. You’ve got ‘em because I was fucking awful to you. God, Deku, you don’t even have the good memories of us. I csn’t even fucking imagine what you must think of me-especially when I was the only person you fucking trusted-”

“Kacchan-”

“Shit, you gotta know how sorry I am. You remember that, right? Fuck, Deku-”

“Katsuki!” Deku screams, voice breaking. 

Kacchan’s mouth snaps shut. “Deku, you-”

“Katsuki, please listen to me,” Deku takes another step forward, looking into Kacchan’s wet eyes and tear-stained face. Deku’s mind is running wild at the realization of Kacchan’s given name, Katsuki, victory, it's so pretty, just like Kacchan himself-

“I don’t remember everything,” Deku starts, “but I remember enough. I remember that you bullied me, but I also remember the atoning and the apology. The memory of me forgiving you hasn’t come back yet, but the emotions of it are. I know I’ve forgiven you, Kacchan, because every single nerve in my body lights up when they sense you. Because every time I see you I don’t even remember being hurt by you, all I feel is happiness and this sense of security, of trust, of being protected. Being saved. I may not remember it yet, but I know that I forgave you. It’s okay, Kacchan, I promise.”

“You don’t know that, Deku, your memories aren’t fully back-”

“It doesn’t matter, Kacchan,” Deku shakes his head, reaching out to grab Kacchan’s hand with both of his, “I’m your Deku, Kacchan. From the bottom of my heart I am certain that we’re meant to be with each other. You’re my incarnation of victory. When all my memories were gone, your name was the only thing I could remember. All I could think about was you. Kacchan. That’s how I know, Kacchan. I forgive you.”

Kacchan blinks, more tears falling rapidly down his face. Deku wants to wipe them away, but refrains because Kacchan’s hand is shaking in his. Deku relishes in that touch alone, squeezing Kacchan’s hand and letting him take his time.

“Izuku,” Kacchan finally says, and Deku jolts at hearing his other name out of Kacchan’s mouth. But from Kacchan it doesn’t sound wrong, doesn’t sound stilted or clunky. Out of Kacchan’s mouth, it flows. When Kacchan says it, Izuku is his name.

“Izuku,” Deku repeats, “do you call me that, Kacchan?”

“Sometimes,” Kacchan responds, then inhales a trembling breath.

“Izuku,” Kacchan breathes, “thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Kacchan,” Izuku replies, and this time it feels right, calling himself by that name. Kacchan is Kacchan and Deku is Deku, but they are also Izuku and Katsuki. And Katsuki is the one Izuku loves. Izuku doesn’t have to remember that, or regain his memory of the moment he realized it. He just knows.

Izuku’s own eyes brim over with tears. “Thank you, Katsuki.”

By the time Izuku and Kacchan leave the training grounds, nightfall is in fruition and Kacchan had tired of lighting up the universe with his quirk, getting the most adorable childlike kick out of Izuku’s amazed wonder at it, no matter how many times he sees those orange blasts. Once Izuku has had his fill of watching Kacchan’s quirk (for the day, he’ll never truly be over watching Kacchan’s explosions), they start their walk back to the dorms. They grab some food at the UA cafeteria, called Lunch Rush, and Kacchan gets Izuku some katsudon and spicy curry for himself. Izuku’s stomach flutters as he gets a gut feeling that katsudon is his favorite, and that Kacchan remembered it.

After eating dinner, Izuku trails slightly behind Kacchan as they walk back to the dorms, not out of any idea that Kacchan wouldn’t want to be next to him like in their old bully-and-victim days, but simply because he loves watching Kacchan from behind, where Kacchan won’t be able to see him and he can stare unabashed. He’s slowly getting some memories back, little odds and ends from vague moments of his life, coming back to him in hazy sepia. Izuku remembers trailing behind Kacchan, gushing over him, and he remembers Kacchan’s self-important smile as he proclaimed that he would become the number one hero.

Izuku remembers how he wants to be the number one hero just as badly, and he remembers how ever since they got on better terms he and Kacchan have been fighting for that top spot. And he remembers the fight that led them to become on better terms, remembers how Kacchan blames himself for the end of All Might because it happened when Kacchan was kidnapped. Izuku remembers getting Kacchan back, too. If he squints he can make out red hair in his mind’s eye, Kacchan taking a hand that is not his. The thought makes Izuku a bit sad, but when he looks down he’s quick to smile.

Kacchan’s hand is interlaced with his as they walk, securing Izuku’s scarred skin in his calloused palms. Izuku can’t help but flush, privately biting his lip and looking to the ground. They walk back to the dorms in silence, their joined hands swinging slightly to the rhythm of their pace. As they get to the dorms Izuku gets more and more nervous, the idea of having to face all those strangers in there that he still doesn’t trust making him nauseous. Kacchan seems to sense his change in mood, and looks down at him.

“You’ll be fine, Deku,” Kacchan promises, “I think you just feel like that now, but your memories are all coming back. Once you walk in there you’ll see Round Face and Glasses and the Half and Half Bastard and get all fucking chummy with them again.”

“Aw, Kacchan,” Izuku fights a laugh at his little pout, “are you jealous?”

“What the fuck?” Kacchan screeches, “are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“You are!” Izuku giggles in delight, the sight making Kacchan blush and push open the door to their dorms with a little more force than usual (which means he almost kicks the door down). When they enter the common room there’s only a few people milling about; Todoroki sitting on one of the couches reading a book, a girl with long black hair sipping tea with a purple-haired girl, and Uraraka sitting on a beanbag doing what appears to be homework. She notices their return first, and her head jerks up at the sound of the door closing. Her eyes light up at seeing them, and she jumps up from the beanbag. Izuku thinks about what Kacchan said, and tries to see if Uraraka’s approach still worries him, makes him suspicious. 

But he’s holding Kacchan’s hand, which means he’s safe, and Izuku can see so clearly now that Uraraka is his friend, his best friend. Izuku can trust her.

Uraraka must see something in Izuku’s expression, because she steps back. “Sorry, Deku, I forgot you don’t want people other than Kacchan close right now-”

A wave of something red-hot sparks through Izuku at hearing her say his name for Kacchan. That didn’t happen before, Izuku thinks. This must be how he responds to others saying Kacchan when he has all his memories back. With jealousy.

“It’s okay, Uraraka,” Izuku assures, “you don’t have to call Kacchan by that name anymore. I got a lot of memories back with Kacchan while we were gone, and now I know what mine and Kacchan’s real names are. And I know that I can trust you.”

Uraraka’s expression falters, and she steps closer. “Really?”

“You’re my best friend,” Izuku says, certain. Uraraka’s smile grows and she beams at him, and then, oddly, up at Kacchan. Kacchan just shrugs at her, but the gesture is fond. They must be friends too, Izuku realizes. He’d been too scared and confused earlier to observe Kacchan’s relationships with his friends. But now he sees Uraraka smiling at Kacchan and Todoroki getting up from the couch to give Kacchan a kind, friendly nod as he walks over to Izuku. Izuku smiles, happy to remember more.

“I’m glad you trust us again,” Todoroki says, “although it is getting late. Maybe you should try and sleep? The memories might come back easier that way.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea!” Uraraka agrees, “Bakugou can tuck you in!”

There’s something mirthful in her eyes, teasing and evil. Kacchan sticks his tongue out at her and glares, but he does tug Izuku along by the hand in the direction of the stairs. “Fuck you,” Kacchan says, “Deku was unconscious for fucking hours.”

“That’s not really sleep,” Todoroki argues. Kacchan rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” Kacchan says, dragging Izuku some more, “let’s get you to bed, Deku.”

“Aw,” Uraraka whispers, “so sweet.”

Kacchan just rolls his eyes and walks away. Izuku wordlessly follows Kacchan upstairs. They get ready for bed in relative, comfortable silence, Kacchan going to the bathrooms to take a shower after showing Izuku to his bedroom. Izuku laughs to himself at all of the All Might merch, his smile plastered on every inch of the wall. Izuku looks at them and feels happiness, and he knows viscerally that he loves All Might. There’s also some guilt there, and resentment. Izuku chooses not to try and remember why, he knows he’ll understand come morning. So Izuku shakes his head and opens his dresser, pulling on some pajamas and then sitting on his bed, waiting for Kacchan.

Kacchan comes back a few minutes later, prettily flushed from the shower, blond spikes dripping. He forces Izuku to brush his teeth despite how sleepy he is, and Izuku complies only because then he gets to look at Kacchan through the mirror, somehow adorable as he yells die to his germs as he cleans his teeth. Kacchan’s dressed in a black cotton shirt and gray sweatpants, and he looks so huggable. It’s an odd thought, but it’s true. He may not look it, but Izuku knows Kacchan would be amazing to cuddle with.

Which is how Kacchan ends up in bed with Izuku under a galaxy of glow-in-the-dark All Might stickers, since Izuku pleaded with him until he acquiesced. 

“I don’t want to wake up disoriented in the morning,” Izuku had bullshitted, “my memories will be back but it’ll still be confusing! Stay with me, Kacchan?”

And with the expected amount of grumbling, Kacchan finally climbed into bed with him. Izuku curled up under his blankets in contentment, reaching behind him to grab one of Kacchan’s hands and bring it to his chest so Kacchan’s arm is wrapped around his waist. Izuku can’t help but sigh; he feels so protected.

“Fuck you,” Kacchan mumbles, muffled by the pillows, “damn cuddler.”

“That’s me,” Izuku states proudly, “I think you like it though, Kacchan.”

“Shut up,” Kacchan gripes. He moves his legs so they're tangled with Izuku’s.

“Goodnight, Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, “I can’t wait to remember everything about you. Every variation of your smile, every inflection of your voice. I know there’s gonna be good and bad memories, but I’m just excited to know you again, Kacchan.”

“Fucking sap,” is Kacchan’s response, but his hand comes up to pet Izuku’s hair. Izuku leans into the sensation, and Kacchan sighs. “I can’t fucking wait either, Deku.”

“Thought so,” Izuku smiles to himself, “now who’s the sap?”

“Still you,” Kacchan says, “goodnight, Izuku.”

“‘Night, Katsuki.” Izuku’s eyes flutter closed, his senses shutting off one by one until the only thing he registers as he drifts off to sleep is Kacchan’s gentle touch.

Izuku Midoriya wakes up to easy sunlight basking over his skin and warm hands absentmindedly running their fingers through his hair. Izuku Midoriya wakes up to a head full of memories, intact and fully restored. And Izuku Midoriya wakes up to find he’s turned around in his sleep, and Izuku Midoriya wakes up to the most beautiful pair of deep red eyes he’s ever seen, blinking sleepily at him, gaze syrupy soft.

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, breath knocked out of him, “Katsuki Bakugou.”

Kacchan stirs from his unmoving sleep-state, bringing a hand to his face to rub at his eyes, yawning in tandem with Izuku as he blinks in pleasant surprise.

“You remember.”

“I do,” Izuku agrees, “I remember everything, Kacchan. All the memories, every single one, they’re all back. And they’re not detached anymore, either. I remember what happened and the emotions tied to them. And I remember all of yesterday, too.”

Tension bleeds out of Kacchan’s shoulders, and he relaxes into his pillows. “Thank fuck. If that villain had permanently fucked you up, I’d be in jail for a murder.”

“I know you would, Kacchan,” Izuku says honestly, “you’d do anything for me, and I’d do anything for you. I’m yours and you’re mine. I remember that, too.”

And it’s true. It’s all Izuku has ever believed, since he was young. That even when they were at their lowest, when Kacchan was bullying him, that they would always come back to each other. That one day Izuku’s Kacchan would really be his, and that one day Kacchan would let himself be Izuku’s, too. And Izuku thinks about how the only person who knows about One for All is Kacchan, and how the only person he trusted in his vulnerable state was Kacchan. That the only thing he could remember after losing all of his memories was Kacchan’s name. It only makes sense, Izuku and Kacchan are too strongly tied to one another to ever forget their names for each other. Not even a memory quirk could take away their devotion to one another.

Nothing could ever take away Izuku’s beautiful memories with Kacchan.

His caramel dynamite supernova.

Izuku snorts a little laugh that quickly turns into rich, full, giggles. He turns his face into Kacchan’s chest, listening to his heart rate pick up as Izuku nuzzles into him, laughing softly and clutching at Kacchan’s shirt, so happy to know him again.

“What the fuck is happening, nerd?” Kacchan asks, but in their dazed morning state it comes out much softer than intended, “why are you being such a Deku?”

“I was thinking,” Izuku says, peeking up from Kacchan’s chest to look into his eyes; sharp, fierce and cruel, but also soft, heroic, and loving. Izuku shifts so that he’s lying half on top of Kacchan, arms folded on his chest and his chin propped on them. He looks up at Kacchan, grinning. “When I first woke up and you walked into my room and I saw you for the first time, I was remembering what I called you in my head. I was so in awe of you that every admiring thought I had of you jumbled up into my head as one big mess of a nickname. You’re my-" Izuku stops midsentence to giggle again, "-my caramel dynamite supernova, Kacchan.”

Kacchan stares, unblinking. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You smell like caramel because of your quirk,” Izuku lists, “and you’re sweet like it, too. Dynamite because of, well, the dynamite, and supernova because that’s what you are to me. A big bright explosion, awe-inspiring and breathtaking.”

“You do know supernovas are dying stars, right,” Kacchan says flatly, completely unfazed, “Are you saying that I’m fucking dying, Deku?”

“Of course not, Kacchan,” Izuku shakes his head, “A supernova’s explosion is such a short span of time, just under two minutes. And that’s what you’re like, Kacchan. You’re a small burst of light in the context of the huge universe, but everyone stops to look at you. You explode, take up all the space that space has, and you exude victory. And victory may fall,” Izuku admits, “my victory may fall-” Izuku reaches a hand up to reverently cup Kacchan’s cheek, “but he’s going to put up a hell of a fight. And thankfully for us, you’re not really a supernova, and you’re going to be mine for a very long time.”

Something in that gets Kacchan, because now his eyes are glistening. “What a fucking sap, Deku. What the hell? Does this mean you-you really do-”

“I forgive you, I trust you, and I love you,” Izuku promises, “with or without memories. Because no matter what, I know I will always have you, Kacchan.”

“I was so fucking scared,” Kacchan admits, “when I heard you were injured, and then that your memories were gone, I know I didn’t act like it, but Jesus, Izuku, I was so fucking worried. You have no fucking idea how glad I am you’re here with me, here to fucking tell me all this sappy shit. I’m so goddamn thankful you chose to be with me.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku’s smile is wobbly, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Kacchan returns without preamble, “so fucking much. I love you more than anything in the goddamn world, Izuku. I love you with more strength than a fucking caramel dynamite supernova. I love you with every bit of my shitty heart.”

Izuku blinks, and tears fall out. “I’m going to remember this moment every day for the rest of my life.”

“You fucking better,” Kacchan growls, flicking him in the forehead, “as long as you’re mine you ain’t getting hit by another stupid villain’s quirk again.”

“That seems unrealistic, Kacchan.”

“Just let me have this one thing, Deku.”

“Okay, but Kacchan,” Izuku shoots back, “we’re gonna be pros, and also it’s me, the problem child. I’ll probably get hit with another quirk tomorrow. But at least we know that even if I lose my memories I still remember Kacchan, so that’s good. But still, who knows? Maybe tomorrow I get turned into a child, or a bunny, or maybe I shrink until I’m six inches tall, oh God Kacchan, what if I get hit by one of those sex quirks? Well, I guess I do have Kacchan for that, oh, maybe Kacchan and I will get body swapped-”

“Izuku,” Kacchan cuts him off, “shut the fuck up and kiss me already.”

Izuku shuts his mouth guiltily, and then he grins. “Our first kiss, Kacchan! The next time I lose my memory, I know this will be the one thing I remember.”

“Oi, Deku, if your mouth is not on mine in the next fucking second-”

Izuku knows that Kacchan’s threats are always empty, but that doesn’t stop Izuku from complying. He leans down to press his lips to Kacchan's, who kisses back and tangles his hands in Izuku's hair. Izuku sighs as they kiss, sparks flitting through his veins. Izuku and Kacchan lazily make out under crumpled comforters, bathed in late morning sunlight. Every time their lips touch, every time Kacchan bites at Izuku’s collarbone or Izuku trails soft kisses up Kacchan’s neck, Izuku feels tiny explosions flicker through his body, fireworks setting off in his heart.

Izuku will remember this forever.