Chapter Text
Jirou watches from the sidelines. She’s a beta, so she’s not exactly a threat to Izuku. But with the state he’s in now it’s better to be safe than sorry.
“It’s just me and Jirou here. No one’s going to hurt you,” Ochako says. It’s one of her many, many attempts thus far, but there’s still no answer.
“Won’t you be a good omega and come out for me?”
More silence, and then,
“Kacchan.”
It’s said quietly, almost fearfully. Ochako tries to edge closer.
The whir of machinery moving stops her in her tracks. Izuku’s suit.
“Don’t,” Jirou says. “He’s going to attack.”
Ochako looks at her, eyes big and desperate, “Then what am I supposed to do?”
Jirou tells her the only thing she can. The truth.
“I think we need to call Bakugo.”
An intense few seconds follow. She can see in Ochako’s eyes that she wants to say no, that the very idea is outrageous.
“Izuku’s not in his right mind. To bring an alpha around him when he’s like this-”
“Bakugo would never hurt him,” Jirou says. “Trust me. I know him. You know him too.”
There’s another moment of resistance. A myriad of emotions flash over her face, ranging from unease to utter indignation. It’s only interrupted by the sound of a pained whimper. Both of their heads whip to the source of the noise, as if they can somehow see through all the debris and scrap metal that Izuku has concealed himself under.
Ochako turns to her, shoulders slumped, “Call him.”
Bakugo is having a bad fucking day.
He just finished a ten hour night shift and his arm is aching. But does he have enough pain meds to do anything about it? No, because his dumbass doctor cut his dose again, as if he doesn’t need his arm to save people. It’s fucking bullshit, and all he wants to do is go home and sleep. He’s so tired he thinks he might just face plant into bed, suit still on and outside germs be damned.
Fucking finally, he thinks as he walks out of the door to his agency, breathing a sigh as he stretches out his arm. The air is crisp, a faint rustle of leaves coming from nearby. It calms him a little, his eyelids drooping, half-lidded with fatigue.
Of course, that’s when his phone starts buzzing.
He wants to ignore it. He nearly does, half considering just leaving it in his pocket and forgetting about it. Fuck it, his shift is over, whoever it is can call back tomorrow.
Except the notion that someone might be in trouble rises in his head, making him grit his teeth as he takes out the godforsaken device. When Jirou’s name pops up on his screen, he already knows he’s done for.
“What do you want?”
“Hello to you too,” she sighs. She has some audacity, he thinks, to fucking sigh when it’s him who’s just finished a twelve hour shift and is now being roped into whatever bullshit she’s got going on. “Listen, don’t freak out, but we were on a mission with Izuku and he- well, he’s got in a little bit of trouble. He’s gone underneath some wreckage and, uh, he’s in heat-”
All the breath leaves his lungs in one fell swoop. His fatigue is forgotten, adrenaline pumping through his veins.
“Where the fuck are you?”
She doesn’t know why, but she’s expecting him to come in his car. Instead he comes blazing through the sky, fully suited up in his hero gear. He lands beside them, eyes searching frantically as his nose sniffs.
“Where is he?”
Jirou waits for Ochako to answer.
She doesn’t.
“He’s over there, but wait,” Jirou says. “He’s in heat, and he’s volatile.”
Bakugo stops, a scowl on his face as he looks at the wreckage, “I don’t understand. Why the fuck is he still trapped under there? You both should have been able to move this shit away in seconds.” He points a finger toward Ochako. “She can literally make things fucking float , so what are we fucking waiting for?”
“Bakugo, calm down-”
“Calm down? He might be fucking hurt, Jirou-”
“He’s not hurt. And we didn’t call you down here for extra manpower. We don’t need you to move anything.”
Bakugo looks at her, a deep, angry scowl on his face, “Listen, I need you to tell me what the fuck is going on right fucking now, because I’m about to explode-”
Ugh. God. This is awkward, even for her.
“He went under there willingly and he won’t come out,” she says. “He’s asking for you.”
Bakugo is smart, so Jirou doesn’t get how it’s taking him so long to understand this. He stares at her for a few long moments, incredulous, and then looks back to the wreckage.
“What do you mean?” He finally says, and it’s weird, hearing him sound so strangled.
“He’s in heat,” she repeats, “and he’s asking for you.”
It takes a second for his brain to process it, and then-
Oh.
𝘖𝘩.
“What do you mean?” He asks quietly. He feels a little delirious, his heart thumping so hard in his chest he feels like it might just burst apart again-
“He’s in heat,” she repeats, “and he’s asking for you.”
He has to put effort into keeping his breathing steady, hands gone stiff and clammy. He’s aware of Ochako a short distance away, and he’s even more aware of the fact that she’s courting Izuku and has been for some time now- That she’s practically his alpha-
But Izuku is asking for him.
The alpha inside of him feels triumphant and proud, but his more rational side stomps that feeling down. There’s nothing to be triumphant about here. Izuku isn’t Katsuki’s omega and he doesn’t want to be.
He just needs his help.
“Call a heat facility. I’ll try to get him out.”
Jirou nods. He pushes past her, eyes trained to where his nose is telling him Izuku should be.
“Damn nerd,” he says shakily.
“Like Jirou said, he’s volatile,” Ochako adds. “He might just be confused about the situation he’s in, so don’t get too close right away.”
He grunts in acknowledgement, but if Bakugo knows one thing, it’s that his alpha does not want to hear Ochako’s voice right now. She’s in his peripheral, but he’s got laser focus on her, every movement making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He knows she’s not the enemy, but his instincts tell him differently. Izuku is asking hurt and afraid and asking for him , after all-
He’s not yours, Katsuki.
It doesn’t mean anything, he reminds himself. It’s just the nerd looking for… the comfort of a friend. He’s lost and confused, and that’s all it is. The fact that he’s still under there, alone and upset, makes Katsuki’s insides twist horribly. He needs to get him out.
He steps forward, slow and cautious. Then he takes another step, and another, rubble crunching under his feet. It’s so quiet that he wonders if Izuku is still awake, or if he even knows Katsuki is there.
Suddenly, the scent of pine blooms.
“…Kacchan?”
Izuku’s voice wraps around him like a tether.
“Watch out,” Ocacho says. “He’s got the suit on, and he’s poised to attack.”
“I can take the hit,” Bakugo answers, suddenly heavy, the weight of his body dragging him to his knees.
“De- Izuku?” He calls tentatively.
“K-Kacchan?”
His voice sounds so small.
“It’s me,” he answers, trying to sound as gentle as he’s able, “It’s Kacchan.”
The sound of the suit whirring hits his ears. He can sense Jirou and Ochako moving, placing themselves defensively behind him.
But Katsuki stays perfectly still. Perfectly undefended. If Izuku needs a punching bag, then that’s what he’ll be.
Anything to get him out of there.
His nose twitches as more of Izuku’s scent pours out, trying to decipher each wayward emotion as quickly as possible. There’s no aggression there, only a little fear and a tinge of anxiety. It swirls in the air as he peers into the darkness, waiting patiently.
Suddenly there’s movement. His breath catches when green curls appear from beneath the wreckage, strands shining in the sunlight, big eyes blinking out at him. Izuku’s lower lip is wobbling, his hands tucked to his knees like he doesn’t know what to do with them. His eyes shine in the telltale way they do before he’s about to burst into tears.
Katsuki’s hand is reaching out before he even knows it.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of there,” he coaxes, motioning with his fingers. “I’ve got you.”
Izuku’s body sways forward, eyes darting to Katsuki’s hand as his own unfurl in his lap. The sweet scent of heat laced arousal permeates the air, as lovely as a dewy morning, along with a touch more anxiety. He can tell Izuku wants to come, but his eyes keep going behind him to the others.
“Kacchan,” Izuku says again, only now it’s more like a whine. Small and omega-like, distress blooming around the word. He’s never seen Izuku like this, not even in the volatile months after he presented, but it’s like all of Bakugo’s instincts know what to do anyway. Back in UA he was too childish and insecure to soothe Izuku in any way that he might have needed, but now it feels like second nature to calm his own scent and push it out.
“Don’t look at them,” he says softly, visualising his scent wrapping around Izuku like a warm blanket. “Just look at me. You think I’d ever let anyone hurt you?”
Izuku’s nose twitches, eyebrows scrunching. He shakes his head, a tear slipping down his cheek.
“Damn right,” he says. “I’m here to protect you, Zu.”
Finally, Izuku moves. Cautious and slow, he crawls out from the space beneath the wreckage, reaching for Katsuki’s hand.
“There we go,” he says, their fingers touching-
And then all the breath is knocked from his lungs, his arms full of pine and omega and Izuku . Green curls duck to hide in the crook of his neck, a cold nose touching his throat as Izuku clings to him like a lifeline. His body shifts automatically, giving Izuku space to nuzzle closer.
He lets out a shaky breath as his eyes slip closed, focusing on keeping his scent calm. It works, Izuku gulping it in as the tension drains from him and he finally slumps-
And then an alpha’s growl reverberates behind his back.
Today is a day of firsts. The first time Jirou has come across Izuku in heat. The first time she’s learned of the nickname ‘Zu.’
The first time she heard a growl brewing in Ochako’s chest.
She doesn’t know how, but Ochako somehow finds a way to cut off the growl before it fully makes it out of her mouth, ending short and disjointed despite starting out so ferociously. She’s sort of shocked to hear it, but she’s even more shocked to hear the growl Ochako gets in return. It’s loud and fierce, ripping into the air between them.
Shit.
This is not where she wants to be. Standing between two alphas and an omega in heat, both growling and probably about to go into all our war against each other. Shit, Jirou will probably be found dead afterwards, simply collateral damage in the fight for Izuku’s heart-
Except a soothing wave of scent blooms in the air, like a crackling fire on a winter's day.
It’s only then that she realises the growl isn’t coming from Bakugo.
Holy shit. It’s coming from Izuku.
Another wave of calming scent and Izuku’s growl stutters to a halt, trailing off into a whine. Bakugo shifts his arms, pulling him closer, “Shh. It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you.”
Izuku settles, face digging against Bakugo’s neck, hiding beneath his hair. Katsuki rubs a soothing hand up and down his back, and Jirou can’t help but think that this all comes so naturally to him. Calming Izuku. Protecting him. It’s like he’s done it a million times before.
It’s hard for her to look at Ochako. How can she when there’s only pure devastation on her face, her own omega growling at her?
Her own omega in another alpha’s arms, seeking comfort.
Izuku shifts his head, somehow pushing even closer, arms wrapped around Bakugo like a lifeline. Jirou can hear his pained breaths.
Katsuki looks over his shoulder at Ochako, as if awaiting confirmation. She nods, then looks at the ground. He slides an arm beneath Izuku’s knees, carefully lifting him up.
Izuku stays held close to his chest, the omega still hiding in his neck. His hands are tangled in the front of Bakugo’s suit, a red flush all the way down his neck.
“Nest?” She hears him murmur. “Nest, alpha?”
Oh god. Jirou can’t even look at Ochako after that one.
“Gonna take you somewhere safe,” Bakugo answers, strained. He’s the calmest one there, solely fixated on the task at hand. It’s so strange for Jirou to see.
She shows Bakugo the location they’re headed since she’s the only other one who can seem to get somewhat close to Izuku. He still growls at her in warning, but not nearly as intensely as earlier. After that she steps back, falling beside Ochako as they keep their distance.
It shouldn’t be a long journey to the facility, thank god. They all walk in silence, the only noise being the occasional whimper from Izuku and some soft cooing from Bakugo.
Ochako doesn’t say a word, eyes trained down as they follow. Her fists are clenched by her side, eyes wet.
It’s awful.
“They’ve known each other a long time,” Jirou tries to reassure her. “He’s probably just confused.”
“Do you really think so?” Ochako all but whispers, “because I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Honestly? Jirou doesn’t either.
He slides an arm beneath Izuku’s knees, maneuvering him so that he can pick him up. His bad arm aches when he does, the pain of it making him wince. He ends up adjusting and shifting more of Izuku’s weight to his other side to get him airborne.
The omegas hands tangle in the front of his suit when he does, almost as if he's afraid Bakugo will somehow disappear into thin air. His pine scent swirls in the air, cheeks and neck flushed as his thighs brush against each other.
A burst of arousal swirls in the air, Izuku’s breaths coming faster.
“Nest?” He says, small and needy. “Nest, alpha?”
The heady scent of him makes Katsuki’s brain go a little mushy, the word yes resting on the tip of his tongue. Izuku’s scent calls to him like a siren, his alpha ready and willing to follow its command.
“Gonna take you somewhere safe,” he says with some effort.
He can’t take him back to his actual nest. The thought alone is heartbreaking. How many times has he imagined it? Tucking Izuku into his nest and listening to him purr in satisfaction. Safe and warm and utterly content. He wishes he had been smarter when he was younger. He wishes he could go back and shake himself, that he could shout and tell himself to get out of his own damn head and pursue Izuku before the chance slips from his fingers, before it’s too late.
It’s much too late now.
He’s pulled from his thoughts as Jirou slowly gets closer, showing him the location of the heat facility on her phone. Izuku is tucked into his neck, but he still growls low in his throat when she gets too close.
He’d forgotten just how protective Izuku gets.
He nods to her and then walks a bit ahead of her and Ochako, pointedly ignoring that the other alpha is even there. He can’t think of her, otherwise he’ll lose focus on Izuku. The omega’s his main priority right now, whining and wiggling in his hold.
“Shh,” he says quietly. “You’re alright.”
“Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs, nosing around his neck. He smells calmer now, softer. It feels surreal to even have him in his arms. He pushes more of his scent out, focusing on keeping it calm and soothing. He hears Izuku sigh, breathing it in.
Lips touch his scent gland.
“Izuku,” he says quietly, his alpha whining under the tender graze. “Hey, Zu,”
He gets no response, but the touch leaves him. He almost shudders, in loss or relief he’s not sure.
Until Izuku’s mouth comes back, wet and soft as it closes around the raised skin of his gland.
“Shit,” he whispers beneath his breath. “Izuku, stop that right now.”
Izuku only hums contentedly, tongue continuing to flick against wet skin as he settles into his arms with a sigh, “Alpha.”
Jesus fucking christ.
“Nerd,” he says with a put on tone, shifting his arms. “Quit it.”
The omega continues his lazy attack while pointedly ignoring him. Each lick sends a shiver from the place Izuku’s mouth touches, spreading down his back and pooling in his core while his alpha lumbers impatiently in the back of his mind. He has to focus all his energy into not letting any arousal slip into his scent. He’s got Izuku’s alpha ten steps behind him, at a perfect vantage point to attack, and he firmly believes that Ochako might actually kill him if Izuku’s tongue doesn’t first.
He’s about to attempt to reprimand him again, but Izuku’s mouth suddenly slips away as he gasps. A whimper falls from his lips, a hint of distress rising in his scent.
“Kacchan,” he sniffles, eyes scrunched and wet. “Kacchan. It hurts.”
“Where hurts?” He asks, and before Izuku even answers he knows it’s the stupidest thing he could ever have asked.
“Inside,” Izuku whines. “Knot? Please?”
Dear god. He is not strong enough for this.
“It’ll be better soon,” he says, voice strained. “All right, sweetheart?”
Izuku mewls, thighs sliding. A damp patch sits on his crotch, the scent of his arousal on the tip of Katsuki’s tongue. “Kacchan,” he whines again, more tears spilling. “Hurts.”
“I know, baby,” Katsuki says, and yeah, he’s crossing a fucking line here for sure.
“I’ve been bad?” Izuku asks, hiccuping. He blinks pretty veridian eyes at him, but he can hardly keep them open.
“You haven’t been bad at all,” Katsuki says. “I promise.”
“Then,” Izuku says quietly, hiding his face in Katsuki’s neck again, “Maybe Kacchan could bring me home and…” he shudders, tensing as pain rolls through him, “...he could give me his knot, and he could- ah, keep me?”
Bakugo struggles with an answer, throat suddenly tight. It’s the heat. It’s making Izuku delirious, making him say things he doesn’t mean-
“But maybe I’m…” Izuku continues with a ragged breath, breaking his train of thought, “...too useless for Kacchan.”
“You’re not useless,” Katsuki says, eyes burning.
There’s so many things he wants to say. That he’s sorry. That he fucked up so badly, that he wishes he could he could take it all back. That Izuku deserves so much fucking better. That Ochako is supposed to be that ‘something better’, because god knows Katsuki isn’t worthy of him.
That the suit was his way of making it up to him, but it’s still not enough. It would never be enough, and all he wants is to take Izuku home and mate him, to keep him by his side for the rest of their lives.
But he can’t. Not now. Not like this.
So instead he says, “I love you so much, Zu.”
“Alpha,” Izuku murmurs, head resting on his shoulder. His eyes are screwed shut, lashes fluttering as he holds his middle. Katsuki isn’t even sure his words got through to him.
Yet doesn’t have time to think about it, because Jirou moves up by his side, opening a door for him.
They’re at the facility.
She moves ahead, opening the door to the facility when they arrive.
The place is already doused in comforting scents, but the harsh light of the lobby makes Izuku whimper. His hands twist in Bakugo’s suit again.
“Nest,” he repeats. “Alpha? Nest?”
“I’ve got you,” Bakugo says, avoiding the question. He looks so tired.
“Hello there,” the lady at the desk says quietly. “Is this the ‘Izuku’ we were told about?”
“Yes,” Jirou says.
The lady looks over to Izuku and Bakugo, nodding, “Welcome. My name is Yuki Sato, but you can just call me Yuki. We already have a room set up for Izuku, and having his alpha with him makes this process a little easier. It’s better if his alpha drops him right there, so if you’d like to follow me?”
Yuki steps out from behind the desk, ready to lead them down a hallway. She looks utterly perplexed when both Bakugo and Ochako follow.
Jirou internally sighs, deciding it’s probably for the best if she goes too.
They follow her in silence until they arrive at the room. It’s cozy, full of blankets and plushies, though the fluorescent lights are a tad jarring. There’s a bedside locker, atop it a box containing the sorts of things an omega in heat needs that Jirou doesn’t want to repeat.
“If you could put him down here,” Yuki says to Bakugo, waving over to the bed. There’s already two other omegas in the doorway. They look strong, like they’re security.
Jirou knows why they’re there. For the part that comes next.
“I’m going to put you down, Zu,” Bakugo says softly. “Somewhere nice and comfy, okay?”
“Wha-?” Izuku mumbles, finally looking around. It takes a few seconds, but even in his semi-lucid state he figures it out.
“No,” he says, distress blooming in his scent so quickly that it even makes Jirou feel a little dizzy. “Alpha? Alpha, please, no- Don’t leave me again, don’t go-”
“It’s alright,” Bakugo says. “I’ll be right outside, waiting for you. Keeping you safe.”
Izuku stares up at him, a look of utter betrayal on his face.
Then he starts bawling.
“Zuku,” Bakugo says, voice laced with panic. “Shh, it’s okay.”
But Izuku’s not listening. Instead he scrambles in Katsuki’s arms, trying to hold on tighter as he heaves out sob after sob. A pang goes through Jirou’s chest at the sight of him, and apparently the same thing happens to someone else.
“Oh, Izuku,” Ochako says, stepping closer.
Wrong choice.
"No!” Izuku shouts, this time ferocious. He whips towards her, lips curl defensively around his teeth as he snarls and swipes the air in front of her.
Jirou grips her by the elbow just in time, yanking her out of reach. Izuku snarls again, frantic as Bakugo does his best to hold onto the flailing omega. But Izuku’s strong, even in this state, and the only thing that stops him is when a certain movement makes Bakugo hiss.
Jirou gives him a once over, wondering if Izuku accidentally caught him with the swipe. But there’s no scent of pooling blood or evidence of injury. Bakugo shifts him around with a grunt, pulling Izuku against his chest as the omega stares up at him with pinched eyebrows.
Ochako stares between them, wide eyed and most likely in shock.
“Perhaps it would be better if you wait outside for now,” Yuki says to Ochako, clearly a little frazzled herself.
Ochako nods, stepping back. Then she looks at Jirou.
“I’ll stay here,” Jirou tells her, reading her mind. She can see the relief in Ochako’s eyes before she walks out.
As soon as she’s gone Izuku settles, but he doesn’t stop crying. He clings to Bakugo tightly, tiny sobs wracking his body.
“Please,” he says. “Please don’t leave me here, Kacchan.”
“Not leaving,” Bakugo says. “I’ll be right outside, like I said.”
Izuku only shakes his head and cries harder, “I want my nest. I want my Kacchan.”
“I’m here,” Katsuki says, eyes shining. “I need you to be good for me, Zu. I need you to lie down. Can you do that?|
Izuku heaves out a few more soft sobs, but then he nods, “M’not useless. I can be good.”
There’s a quiet desperation to his words. Even as Katsuki lays him flat on the bed, Jirou can see how he’s struggling internally to do what his alpha wants of him.
“Course you’re not,” Bakugo says. “There we go. Good boy.”
A wave of arousal wafts in the room, Izuku mewling like a kitten. He stares up at Bakugo, still holding onto his arms, eyes big and wet.
“Here,” Bakugo says, taking off his gloves. He puts them down on the pillow next to Izuku. “These are for you.”
Izuku looks at them, eyes going hazy as he lets go of Bakugo’s arms and hurriedly picks them up. He drags them to his nose, inhaling deeply as he somewhat settles.
Yuki steps over with a pill and a glass of water.
“This will relax him and shorten the heat. He should be over it in less than twelve hours. And don’t worry, he probably won’t even remember all of this."
Bakugo nods and takes it from her. He only has to hold it out for Izuku to open his mouth obediently. He feeds it to him, stroking his hair as he holds the glass of water to Izuku’s lips. “He’ll be kept hydrated?”
“And fed,” the lady says. “He’ll have top of the range care.”
They wait for a few minutes, Bakugo wiping away Izuku’s tears, stroking his cheek. Soon the omega’s eyes are drooping.
“I think he’s nearly out,” Yuki says softly. “If you could say your goodbyes.”
“Please,” Izuku says again, but this time it’s slurred. “I’ll be good, Kacchan. I won’t be a bad omega anymore.”
He’s sniffling, but he’s too out to it to really fight.
“When have you ever been bad?” Bakugo says. “You’ve always been a good omega.”
“That’s not true,” Izuku says, and the sound of it is heartbreaking. “M’ not good enough. Never been good enough for you, Kacchan.”
“Izuku, stop it. You’re more than good enough.”
“Then why are you leaving me here?” he all but whispers.
His eyes fall shut after that, unable to hold onto the last dregs of consciousness.
“Zu’?” Bakugo asks, but only soft breaths answer him.
“Looks like he’s out,” Yuki says gently. “Let me show you both to the waiting area.”
They both follow her down the winding hallways, a headache forming at the back of Jirou’s skull. The perfumed scents of the place are nauseating for a beta like her. Yuki shows them to the waiting room door but Bakugo stops once they reach it, looking toward the exit instead.
“I need a cigarette. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“I’ll join you,” Jirou says. She can’t leave him like this, silent tears streaming down his face.
“Of course,” Yuki bows, “Take your time.”
They both walk outside, the fresh air a welcome relief.
“You don’t smoke,” Bakugo says.
“Neither do you,” she shrugs.
Bakugo only nods, leaning back against the wall. They stand there for a few minutes, no words between them.
“What are you going to do when he wakes up?” Jirou finally asks.
“What can I do? He’s not mine,” Bakugo says. “You heard what she said. He probably won’t even remember.”
“Does it matter if he doesn’t remember? This wasn’t just confusion during a heat. You and I both know it” She pauses. “It’s clear that you’re the one he wants.”
Bakugo looks at her, eyebrows pinched, “Aren’t you supposed to be telling me to let it go? That he’s already being courted by someone else? Our friend, no less.”
Jirou shrugs, “You’re my friend too.”
“So what?” He says, looking away again. “I can’t ask to court him if someone else is already doing it. Plus he’s already rejected me before.”
“Oh please, you’re still on that?” Jirou rolls her eyes. “He rejected joining your agency, not your hand in marriage.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“It is not the same thing.”
“It is to me.”
“Didn’t you hear him in there?” Jirou sighs. “He thinks he’s not good enough.”
Bakugo huffs, “I still don’t know what you want me to do here."
“Talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”
“And Ochako?”
Jirou grimaces, “I’ll talk to her. You talk to him.”
Bakugo wipes his face with the back of his hand, “I can still smell him all over me. He was so fucking upset. Shit, Jirou."
“I know,” she says. Then, after a moment, “I’m so fucking glad I’m a beta.”
Bakugo snorts, “You have no fucking idea.”
Another silence, this time one that’s more comfortable.
“Are you going to stay?” she asks.
“I want to, but you know I can’t. She won’t want me there."
“I think he’ll remember. If he does and you’re not there, he’ll be upset.”
“He’s better off,” Bakugo says. “Imagine he does remember and he has to face me and Ochako at the same time. Wouldn’t exactly be ideal.”
“That’s true.”
“Maybe you could tell him,” he says. “That I didn’t want to leave. That I had to.”
“I will,” Jirou says. “I promise.”
“Feels like-” Katsuki says, voice shaky despite how he tries to hide it. “Like I’m tearing in two. Like I’m leaving half of myself here.”
“You are,” Jirou says. “The other half is Izuku.”
“When’d you get so fucking poetic?"
“Hasn’t he always been your other half?”
Bakugo doesn’t answer that.
“Text me when he’s awake.”
“I will. You better talk to him about all of this.”
“I will.”
He pushes off the wall, but stops just before he leaves. “Thanks, Ears."
Jirou nods, watching him go. After a minute she takes a deep breath.
Time to go inside and console Ochako. She has a feeling it won’t go quite as well as it did with Bakugo.
She turns and walks inside, ready for a hellish 12 hours.