Chapter 44

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Flames appear, igniting the night, outshining the stars.

Smoke burns delicate eyes, flowing tears stripping away layers of soot.

Flesh separates from bone, then the screaming begins. Guttural bursts of complete anguish. Pain coating every sound.

"Izuku?"

He knew that voice, but as the flames burned hotter, he couldn't bring himself to care. Smoke burned his throat, his breathing was all wrong, but the fire didn't hesitate. It never did.

"Izuku!"

He couldn't respond, couldn't breathe. He was going to die. That was a funny thought, death; he hadn't thought about it in a while. Death was nothing new to him; he almost smiled at the thought, an old friend.

"IZUKU!"

Red. But not fire. Red orbs, shining with pain, fear, and confusion.

"Katsuki?" Katsuki was fire; he was burning, explosions lighting up the sky followed by manic laughter. He was a safe fire. He wasn't pain and melted skin.

"Izuku," Katsuki sighed, shoulders relaxing, "You scared the hell out of me!"

Looking around himself, Izuku realized he was still lying on his stomach in Recovery Girl's office. Katsuki crouched on the ground in front of his bed, a seat positioned behind him.

"What? What happened?" He looked at Katsuki's concerned face, "Why are you here?"

"We are moving into the dorms in an hour; I came to wake you up, and you were screaming."

Izuku groaned, he rolled his shoulders, and a sharp stab of pain ran through him. "Fuuuuck!"

"IZUKU! DON'T DO THAT!"

"I thought that shit was healed."

"Well, maybe if you had waited for the Medical Professional to arrive, you would have known not to do that!" Recovery Girl called from the doorway.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "can I get up now?" He couldn't see her from where he was, though he could picture the disapproving glare she was sending him.

"Carefully. Bakugou, help him up, don't touch his back."

Katsuki, never one to do things the easy way, held him under his arms and lifted him completely off the bed before placing him on his feet. He held onto Izuku's arm for a while longer, making sure he was steady.

"Thanks." Izuku blinked a few times, the room around him still somewhat blurry from his sudden awakening.

"Don't mention it."

Recovery Girl cleared her throat; she had moved to sit at her desk. "Bakugo, could you give us a minute."

He turned to look at Izuku, who nodded at him with a smile, "I'll be outside." The door shut behind him with a soft click.

"Now, Midoriya." She turned to face him. "Your back is nearly healed; I want you to come back after class so I can finish the process. As for your neck, I have informed your teachers that it will be covered with a plain high neck top at all times to save it from reopening skin irritations resulting from the previous trauma." She handed him a small paper bag, "These will help you get through the day."

Izuku thanked her repeatedly; he took the small bag of painkillers, threw his shirt over his head, and left to meet Katsuki in the hallway.

"Hey, I'm sorry I was asleep when you came by yesterday."

"It's all good! Though I want the neck story later."

Izuku laughed, "yeah, it was a hell of a night. Did you find my bag?"

Katsuki grinned and pointed behind him, "You were out cold, so I chucked it in my locker. Also, thanks for telling me you locked your door. It wasn't a pain to climb up your building and break into your room at all."

"Ah, I knew I forgot something!"

"You're an idiot. Let's go get your shit."

Katsuki opened his locker for him; his duffle bag hung inside next to Katsuki's sports uniform.

"This all you packed, Izuku?"

"Yeah, don't need much. No point in bringing pointless shit I won't use."

"Fair enough. I'll go get changed."

Izuku shut himself in the changing rooms; it was weird being the only one in there. He threw on his uniform and closed his bag back up. When he got back to Katsuki, they fell into step beside each other.

"How long are you gonna wear this for?" Katsuki asked, running a finger over the black turtle neck he had on under his uniform.

"As long as I can. No one knows, apart from Recovery girl."

Katsuki stopped, "Wasn't Aizawa with you?"

Shit. "No, I went out on my own and got mistaken for someone else."

"Hold the fuck up. Who the hell did that?!"

"Endeavor."

"I will fucking murder him." Katsuki grit out through clenched teeth, "Who the fuck did he think you were?!"

"Katsuki, it's not important. But if anyone finds out, it will be. I am not supposed to do what I did, and if Aizawa or Endeavor finds out, I'm in deep shit."

Izuku watched as Katsuki started walking again; he was clearly fuming and had no way to get his anger out. "You get hurt by that flaming fuckwad again, and I'm committing some fucking crimes."

"Ok."

The air fell silent; it wasn't uncomfortable, the conversation had come to its natural end, and they weren't the type to force small talk. The pair left out the back door of the school and walked all the way to the front. Their class had already started arriving, waiting by the main entrance with bags piled high behind them. They silently joined the small crowd, unnoticed by their peers. Katsuki had his backpack and a rolling suitcase with him; it seemed that Izuku had packed the lightest of anyone in the class.


Izuku zoned out as the last few students arrived. At some point, Aizawa gave a speech about the rules and regulations Izuku had a feeling was aimed at him. But, hey, you can't break the rules if you don't acknowledge them.

Izuku and Katsuki trailed behind the class as they explored the common area; eventually, everyone dispersed to find their assigned rooms. Izuku smirked when he located his; it sat the farthest from the common area and elevator, and next to the balcony happened to be a well-placed drain pipe that would aid him well. An added bonus was Katsuki's room, right next to his.

Izuku dropped his bag on the wooden floor with a thud; Katsuki had already left to set up his room, so he got to work. The room already had a bed; he threw a pillow at it and called that job done; he put his clothes away in the provided drawers and closet. When he had finally finished the menial tasks, he started working on the desk. He pulled out the bottom drawer and put his Chaos costume in it along with a few throwing knives and less important notebooks before sliding a piece of wood that he bought with him over the top to cover it.

With the most obvious hiding spot filled, he moved to stand on the drawers in the corner of the room; he carefully removed a tile from the ceiling; jumped down, and grabbed his bag of Watcher gear. He slid the bag into the small space he had created and secured the tile back in place.

After adding the final touches, like his laptop and favorite pens, he had finished. He looked around his room; it looked exactly the same except for the desk and the pillow.

Perfect.

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