Chapter Text
Deku’s third year internship was supposed to be an easy gig for him. Katsuki guesses that “Deku” and “easy” is an oxymoron.
Maybe that’s why, when Deku chooses a remote outpost similar to where the Wild Pussy Cat heroes resided as his stay for the next week, Katsuki volunteers with the same hero group behind his back.
“Isn’t this your chance to, like, practice being a hero for real?” Kaminari asks, picking his ear.
Kirishima pushes his head to the cushion where he lays, making Kaminari flail. “I think having ‘defeated a demon lord’ on his resume was enough real life practice,” he says, shooting Katsuki a thumbs up. “Go hang with our bro, bro. Might be your last time to team up.”
Katsuki feels the well-wishing hit like a slap. It’s still *wrong* that Deku won’t continue to be a hero after graduation, but he doesn’t know what to do about it yet.
When he sets foot in the cabin lodge at Shirogane Ridge, freezing hit butt off as he shakes a flurry of snowflakes off himself, he feels the beginning of his regrets. The outpost is at the base of the mountain, on a plateau overlooking Lake Koorinuma and used mainly by transient snowboarding and skiing vacationers.
And the Frostwatch Hero agency, led by Crystal Gale, the permafrost hero.
“Kacchan?” a stunned voice says, and Katsuki turns to find the owner.
Deku is behind the reception desk, clearly having been put to work early with boring crap that he no doubt happily accepted. Katsuki wanders over, dropping his bag to the floor and quickly locating a spot by the fireplace to defrost. Deku hurries around the counter.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on your internship?”
Katsuki stares at the fire, willing it to soak into his bones. “You’re looking at my internship, doofus. Crystal Gale had room for two.”
Deku’s brows pull together. “Oh, I didn’t— But what about all your other offers? Won’t being in the cold be a bad match for your quirk?”
He tiffs, automatically flaring out his fingers to feel for the buzz of his quirk beneath the numbness. “Even if that could stop me, which it won’t, don’t you think this is a good matchup for targeting that weakness that I don’t have?”
When he looks over, Deku is still frowning but a hand is braced on his chin like he’s actually considering this. “Okay, that’s a good point,” he says slowly. “But you didn’t come here… because of me… right?”
Katsuki has never been one to lie. Especially not to Deku, who would somehow read his mind anyway. So he meets Deku’s eyes and asks a question of his own, nodding toward the desk. “They got you pushing paper, already, Deku?”
Deku stands up straighter, hands fidgeting. “That’s not unimportant work,” he mutters. “Their system goes down a lot because of the weather so someone has to keep the physical files organized, and it should be someone familiar with hero paperwork but whose presence won’t be, er, missed in the field.”
Katsuki stands and snaps his bag off the floor. “So where are the actual people who work here?”
“Well, Crystal Gale is in town… but I’m assuming if she knew you were coming that you’re supposed to take the guest room next to mine. The agency is so small that the heroes actually live here, isn’t that neat? They have lots of supplies for guests in case rescued civilians need accommodations too. Do you want me to—“
“I can find it.” Katsuki brushes past him, feeling a delayed pang of regret when he rounds to the stairs in silence, Deku saying nothing as he’s left behind.
Left behind.
Katsuki clenches his fist and wishes there were something here worth blasting.
…
Deku is talking to the hero who runs this agency when Katsuki comes back down. Crystal Gale has cornsilk hair the color of Katsuki’s own, but far more tamed in its windswept braid. Her eyes are as colorless and reflective as glass— the lack of pupils takes Katsuki by surprise the moment she turns to smile at him.
“Dynamight, you made it,” she greets, friendly but demure.
Katsuki, in his hero costume plus MULTIPLE extra layers of insulation, grunts in his warmest greeting.
“Kacchan, you came at a great time actually!” Deku says, with enough enthusiasm for both of them. “Crystal Gale says her sidekicks are helping with a festival in town tonight and I mentioned that you can probably help with the fireworks!”
Despite himself, Katsuki’s mood does perk up at that. “What do people have to celebrate, living way out here?” he wonders.
Deku frowns, opening his mouth. Crystal Gale gets there first.
“The story goes that Lake Koorinuma was formed by an early quirk user hundreds of years ago,” she says, lifting her hand. Frost dances out of her fingers to illustrate the story in a glittering projection. “The frozen lake has never thawed since that time, no matter the season. At the anniversary of the town’s founding, we gather to celebrate the joy it brings to us and to visitors. There is competition, sledding, ice skating— do either of you ice skate?”
They look at each other.
“Todoroki once made an ice rink for us to try on a class break,” Deku says diplomatically.
“No,” Katsuki says.
Crystal Gale laughs, the sound like wind chimes in winter air. “I won’t make you try,” she says, reflective eyes gleaming. “But, Deku is correct— we would be honored to have fireworks for our celebration tonight.”
“Saving smiles is just as important as facing lives,” Deku chirps, pumping a fist. Katsuki thinks of drums and school festivals and candy apples.
It’s not exactly the hardcore training he usually gets from internships; nonetheless Katsuki crosses his arms and shoulders past Deku’s knowing smile with a gruff, “Fine. Let’s do it.”
…
“Thank you for accommodating us,” the sidekick assigned to them rambles, a little guy with hair as white as snow and a red cloak billowing behind him. “I promise tomorrow we will get started on training you both in our rescue and first aid procedures. You just happened to come at a special occasion.”
His pointy ears twitch at passing sounds as he leads Deku and Katsuki through stalls of vendors and carnival games where people laugh and children scream. The smell of junk food fills the air— better than snowfall, Katsuki thinks, hands in pockets.
“It’s no problem!” Deku says. “Put us to work wherever we’re needed.”
And sidekick guy (Jack or something) does just that, assigning them to run a little stand giving out informational fliers about winter safety with the hero agency’s phone number on them. It’s probably the least exciting booth at the place but people still get excited to meet and greet with our-of-town heroes, especially when anyone recognizes who they are.
Deku is in his hero costume plus a puffy coat in his signature green. Breath mists from him with shy laughter at someone’s sincere outpouring of praise for his work, his hands fidgeting stiffly.
He tries to pick a pamphlet off the top of the stack and his fingers fumble for so long that Katsuki’s eyelid twitches.
“Hi, I helped save the world too,” Katsuki says, reaching over with his left hand to shove his own pamphlet in the visitor’s face.
The person blinks and their horizontal pupils slide over to Katsuki. “You’re Dynamight!” he gasps, delighted. Fairy lights are strung in his antlers goofily.
Satisfied, Katsuki folds his arms.
The guy lifts his arm and suddenly there’s a sharpee in his hand. “Bro, will you sign me? I wanna get it tattooed!”
Deku covers his mouth.
“Give me the pen,” Katsuki says, leaning over the table.
“I’m so glad you didn’t lose your quirk,” Deer man says.
Katsuki freezes mid “Murder” to squint up at him. “Hah?”
The guy’s eyes go wide and he looks back and forth between them like he suddenly realized he put his hoof in his mouth.
“Because you defeated that guy on the tv who can take away quirks!” he explains. “That’s all I meant— I’m just— I think your bombs are really sick!”
“Explosion is an amazing quirk,” Deku says from behind. “In fact, are you sticking around? Dynamight is doing the firework show soon!”
Reindeer looks relieved. “Oh, heck yeah!” he says, pulling his arm back as Katsuki finishes up. He looks at it and hops up and down. “I can’t wait to tell everyone. Thanks guys! See you around!”
Deku waves goodbye then rubs his hands together and exhales into them. He catches Katsuki looking and smiles.
“How’s your arm?” he asks, looking at Katsuki’s right hand. “I have hand warmers if you need—“
“Are there any embers left?” Katsuki asks.
Deku blinks. “Any— what?”
“Don’t piss me off, Deku. One for all. Is it…” Katsuki looks out at the snow. “…gone?”
He resists the urge to gauge Deku’s reaction closely, angry at himself for bringing it up uncalled-for and at Deku for taking it so reasonably. Eventually Deku says quietly, “Um, well. I’m not sure. I don’t really wanna check and waste it, y’know?”
Katsuki takes a measured breath and tries to unclench his jaw. “Okay.”
“Oh— okay?”
“I’ll see you later, Deku,” he says, looking back at those absurdly sincere eyes. Sincere on Katsuki’s behalf, never on his own. A pause filled with unspoken thoughts lingers between them. Katsuki just goes, “It’s dark enough for fireworks now, right?”
Deku opens his mouth.
Katsuki leaves.
…
There was a time— after Katsuki got his quirk but before he started using it to beat Deku up— that Deku told Katsuki everything there was to know about nitroglycerin. All Katsuki needed to know was that his hands popped and people looked at him like he was amazing now; Deku wanted to analyze every possible use of built-in explosives.
Fireworks were on the list. Until he got his quirk powerful enough to defeat All for One, Katsuki hadn’t thought about that in years. In an adrenaline fueled, natural painkiller high, he saw the flowers of light blooming in the sky behind him like ripples behind a thrown stone and smiled hugely at the achievement.
Right now he’s somehow in a worse mood than when he just came back form the dead, but Katsuki manages to make some pretty big booms just fine.
It’s nothing coordinated— he flies up and people begin oohing and awing from that alone. From there, building up speed and shooting off in different directions pulls the first cheers.
He doesn’t keep track of how long to make the show; didn’t ask before and doesn’t care now. It’s a good way to blow off steam.
Then something is off.
It’s hard to pinpoint a cause from the sky, especially amid the smoke, but he feels the change like a buzzing in his core. The noise of delight from below has turned into noise of something else— a different kind of screaming.
His feet touch the ground amid groups of people running in different directions. Nobody is even looking at him anymore and he has to grab someone’s arm to get their attention.
“What’s going on?” he demands.
“City hall is on fire!” the lady cries, pulling away. “I’m sorry, sir, I need to find my son!”
Katsuki growls, annoyed with the lack of details. It seems like most people are as confused as he is, just running to find their loved ones and take shelter in the midst of an apparent villain attack.
He follows the frosty cobblestone street in the direction of a dark plume of smoke and rounds the corner to see it: a large important-looking set of buildings currently lit brighter than a Christmas tree with orange flames.
So much for sleepy little town antics.
He is reaching to grab another person for information when someone else calls his name and he shoots his attention in that direction. Side kick Jack is pushing toward him, eyes wide.
“Where’s the villain?” Katsuki yells over the crackle of flames and sirens.
The sound is from an intercom system in the streets; no way it’s big enough of a population for emergency services outside of the hero agency. Confirmation comes in the form of Crystal Gale attacking the flames with flurries from her hands resembling a human fire extinguisher. Another side kick is attending to the civilians who stumble coughing from the building.
That probably means his idiot is around here somewhere.
“No confirmed villain yet,” Jack says soberly. “We’re focusing on getting everyone out of harm’s way before assessing the situation further. Do you know Deku’s location?”
“No clue,” he admits, turning to scan the courtyard. A medical vehicle is parked nearby and what looks like a volunteer team of medics are receiving survivors with respirators and burn kits. One rescuee seems to be explaining something vehemently to a volunteer when their head turns and they make eye contact directly with Katsuki.
They point at him then devolve into a fit of coughs.
Ice shoots through Katsuki’s veins.
An explosion rocks the area and people scream, Katsuki covering his ears and jumping to face that direction. A smaller building nearby’s doors just blew out.
He blasts off in that direction.
A civilian is on hands and knees outside the blast zone. As he lands at their side, Katsuki sees blood trickle from their forehead. He reaches out a hand, asking, “Is anyone still inside there?”
“Wha-what?” they say, looking up. They accept his hand belatedly as Katsuki lowers, just setting them on their knees. They look over their shoulder. “Oh— I don’t— um, a hero was evacuating us. The green one.”
A distant crash signals the collapse of something integral in the buildings structure. Katsuki is running without realizing he got up.
Out of nowhere, a wave of cold air parts the boiling sea of hot air. Crystal Gale appears so fast he has to pivot to blast around her— only for her to throw her arm in his way.
“Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight,” she says, urgent. “You cannot save your friend.”
Katsuki laughs. He ducks out of the way.
“Nobody can survive that!” she insists, grabbing his arm in an icy grip and attempting to get him to rip his eyes away from the orange consuming his vision like an oil slick. “Not even you!”
He fires off the hand in her grip so that’s she’s forced to let go, and doesn’t look back as he shoots through a blown-out window on the first floor.
…
Katsuki knows realistically he’s not fireproof; not even Endeavor is. That’s why Todoroki exists. He has a greater natural tolerance to heat but he’s certainly not immune to smoke inhalation.
So Deku better help make this quick.
He releases his last big breath of outside air in a yell of Deku’s name as soon as he hits what he assumes is the main area of the building. It’s got a vaulted ceiling above, a wide open space— though come to think of it, there may have been walls that were just taken out by that blast.
Holding a cloth over his nose and mouth, smoke stinging his eyes, Katsuki searches the fallen debris. His free hand starts to smoke unintentionally and he balls it to his chest, gritting his teeth.
Katsuki retraces the steps he’d think to take if he himself were looking for trapped civilians— and that’s how he finds him.
The idiot is under a collapsed beam.
He’s so honed in on the relief of finding him that Katsuki doesn’t notice the very weird thing at first.
“Deku,” he says, immediately circling to Deku’s other side to see if he’s conscious.
The bottom half of his face is covered by a silver respirator, so why are his eyes not open? He— he should be able to breathe with that on. He is only trapped by one leg, turned at the wrong angle. He’s notoriously walked off worse than that.
He uses the extra spark of fire around him to his advantage to blast the beam apart, yanking Deku’s slack form over his shoulder all in less than thirty seconds. And then, precisely too late, Katsuki clocks the very weird thing.
A figure.
The person, in Katsuki’s defense, is wrapped in something solid and reflective like armor reflecting the flames like camouflage. He’s reminded of Iida’s suit if it were less “knight in shining armor” and more “sleep paralysis demon”.
The person is also so close that they must’ve been right next to Deku before Katsuki grabbed him, or else appeared out of nowhere. He steps back automatically and almost trips over who-knows-what.
“No confirmed villain, huh—“ Katsuki is interrupted with his own cough, throat beginning to burn and head beginning to swim. A fight can’t happen right now, not right here.
The figure raises their hand anyway.
They’re aiming for Deku but Katsuki turns and they latch onto Katsuki’s arm. Their palm glows blue.
Katsuki has time to think, “You’ve gotta be kidding me”, before the world is swallowed up in vertigo.
…
Colors blur— orange bleeds to blue to black and white in his vision. He feels like he’s been pushed down a long tunnel slide and lost track of which way he’s falling in the process. His ears pop.
After an eternity, he lands on his back.
Katsuki groans, the sound breaking the sudden silence that surrounds him— he pushes up to his elbows and blinks furiously in blinding daylight.
He still smells like smoke, still has soot-darkened clothes, but the white landscape blinding him is arguing a different reality. There are no buildings, no fire no people— nothing but snow and distant trees. Katsuki looks around and sees Deku sprawled on the ground at his side, equally as out of place as him in this new setting.
Katsuki flips to face him, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him onto his back. His fingers find Deku’s pulse point and he leans in, yanking the respirator down and putting his ear by the nerd’s mouth.
Only after dual confirmation of heartbeat and breath does he take a breath and stand up.
“Oi!” he bellows, voice echoing through the icy wind. “Fight me, coward!”
Nothing.
Katsuki kicks a pile of snow.
Probably a teleportation quirk— he wonders if this is even the same mountain range, given the shift from night to day. Illusion quirk is also an option except the physical sensations are startlingly realistic. Already sweat induced by heat and effort is starting to cool and leave him shivering.
“Deku,” he says, toeing his boot into the idiot’s side. “Hey, Deku. You alive?”
It takes awhile but eventually Deku twitches, nose wrinkling up. Katsuki stops the sprinkle of snow he’d been dropping in his face and waits. Green eyes slide open blearily and find Katsuki.
“Ka-“ he coughs. “Nng.”
“I’ll take a hand warmer now,” Katsuki says.
Deku tries to pull himself up and falls back down, gasping. He looks around and frowns like he isn’t sure what he’s seeing. He tries to sit up again and the same thing happens.
Katsuki grabs his face and peers closer at his overly expanded pupils, the lack of awareness there. “Are you drugged?”
Deku just blinks at him, startled. “Kacchan? Am I— no!” He pushes the contact away with fumbly hands.
“Then stand up.”
Deku tries to, already forgetting his broken leg, and plops in the snow on his side this time. Katsuki groans, stuffing his face in his hands.
“How did you manage to get drugged in the middle of a burning building,” he asks the universe. At least there’s another puzzle piece for the collection he’s building even if they don’t fit together perfectly yet. He ignores Deku’s apology and stalks off, shaking out his hands.
When they’re warmed up enough, he jumps and blasts upward, scanning the landscape in every direction for a sense of where to go to find civilization.
The little town is lost from his view, but the road to the main city is in the distance, maybe 2-3 miles out. The frozen Lake being directly in the way will make it a longer journey, though.
“Okay, idiot, here’s the deal,” he says, stomping back to Deku 20 minutes later. The idiot in question gives him a wide dopey look, probably not in the same plane of reality. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and we’ve gotta get moving before the sun sets.”
“Oh,” Deku says.
“So,” he says, slamming the tree branch in his hand into the snow. “You need a splint.”
“Okay,” Deku says.
Katsuki grimaces internally— on the outside, he stays stoic. To his dismay, he catches Deku’s teeth chattering already when he kneels down to straighten him out.
“Kacchan?” Deku asks.
Katsuki grunts, focused on unwinding a cord of rope from his utility belt and measuring it against the tree branch.
“Where is the fire?”
“Great question,” Katsuki says. “Also, sorry for this.”
Deku is really good at stifling his pain in most situations when his inhibitions aren’t lowered and the cold isn’t clawing into previously healed fractures on top of a brand new one. Maybe that’s why the cry of pain he makes startles Katsuki so much his gaze almost strays to his face— almost.
“Stop,” Deku gasps, kicking weakly with his good leg. “Stop, stop, stop.”
“*You* stop!” Katsuki growls, shifting to sit on his flailing limbs while his hands fumble through knots.
Deku’s muscles spasm and shake under him, more keens and fragmented pleas falling from him. Katsuki tunes them out, teeth gritted hard enough to crack.
He catches, “I’m sorry, Kacchan,” and feels like the worst person ever.
By the time it’s secure and the pulse in Deku’s foot is still strong enough that he feels comfortable it’s not too tight, Katsuki’s vision has blurred. He gets up, turns his back on Deku, and screams.
Only heavy panting meets his ears when he’s done. Roughly scrubbing the back of his hand over his eyes, he turns back around.
Deku’s gaze is on him, half-lidded but wary as Katsuki plops down by his head. He can’t bear to stand over him right now.
He heaves a deep breath and leans his head in his hand.
Well, that was worse than he’d been imagining. At this point, would be it be better to shelter in place? But no— nobody knows where they are. They were supposed to be learning about rescue this weekend, and perhaps Iida would say something optimistic and sensible about that, such as, “Nothing teaches better than hands-on opportunities.”
“You…” Deku’s small voice interrupts his thinking and Katsuki uncovers his face. “Okay?”
Katsuki blinks, face contorting. He bites back his first instinct response, then his second. The third passes quality control. “Yes, Deku,” he says. “I’m okay.”
Deku doesn’t look convinced; his eyes are still wary, tear tracks still wet. “You yelled.”
“I yelled,” Katsuki agrees. He takes in the blotchy of his nose and paleness of his cheeks. “Do you want to try standing now, or in one more minute?”
As soon as Deku processes the question, be begins attempting to get up. Katsuki wordlessly reaches to assist and promises himself he’ll be nicer to Deku when they get out of this due to the fact Deku accepts his touch without flinching.
They need to get out of this so that he can apologize for being a jerk earlier today, specifically.
That’s the thought that keeps his movements sure as he hefts Deku’s arm over his shoulder and takes their first unified step of what will probably be a very not-fun trek.
…
The pace at which Deku can walk on a broken leg defeats Katsuki’s patience after they make it maybe one mile in one hour. He’s proud of himself for that much.
They make it about two more with Deku clinging to his back before Katsuki needs to stop and explode some of his sweat.
They’re under cover of trees by this point which is both good and bad— the cover blocks what little warmth they were getting from the sun, but it also provides more wood for Katsuki to stack and burn. Deku sits where he’d been dropped, broken leg elevated since Katsuki maneuvered him like a stiff-limbed doll, but he leans into the fire so close that Katsuki yells at him to back off a couple times.
He’d gotten quiet during the walk, seemingly putting all his energy into placing one foot after the other. That was a reasonable response effort, but never did Katsuki wish for mumbling more.
“Drink this,” he orders, shoving a tin thermos in Deku’s face.
Deku blinks slowly at it. Katsuki imagines a conversation to himself:
What is it?
Water.
Where did you get water?
Melted some snow.
Oh okay. You’re so smart and good at this, Kacchan.
Yeah I know. Please don’t die.
Instead, Deku accepts the offering without even raising his hands, draining it, then goes back to staring at the fire. Katsuki refills it for himself and tries not to be irritated.
“You normal yet?” he asks, irritated.
Deku blinks slowly again like it’s going out of style. “Hmm?” he slurs.
Katsuki sheds his outermost layer, essentially a puffer jacket that has his costume design on front. Underneath is his standard winter costume with thicker insulation— he feels the wind hit him harder immediately.
“Arms out,” he demands, yanking Deku’s limbs when he is too slow to comply. He’s moving too slow, talking too slow. His fingers feel like ice when Katsuki’s hand brushes them.
“Yours,” Deku protests. It does nothing to stop the manhandling. Katsuki zips the front and steps back, satisfied.
Layered under two puffers, Deku’s arms can hardly go back down. It makes him look like the toddler who chased after Katsuki in his memories.
The thought makes him smile.
“Pay me back later,” he says. “And—“ he casts around in his mind. “Who do you think would win, Kamui Woods or Anima?”
Deku’s brow lowers and his mouth opens.
…
“Okay,” Katsuki says, an hour later, his lips numb and arms sore but grip and pace unwavering. “If we put J-Jeanist against. Hmm. Vine girl from 3B.”
It takes longer between pauses for Deku to respond, no matter how annoying Katsuki is about getting the answers. He strains to make it out an answer over the increasing winds that came as twilight fell over the mountain.
“Deku!” he grouches, jumping up and down til he hears Deku take a sharp inhale by his ear.
“Nng?”
“I told you already, stay awake!” He tries to sound as disappointed as possible. It works better than anger on Deku.
They should be hitting the road any minute now, but Katsuki’s stomach is sinking the more he thinks about what comes next. Even on the path to civilization, that doesn’t mean anyone will find them right away. They’re close enough that maybe a flare will be seen, though— right?
“Deku!” he says again, rattling the idiot’s good leg. Instead of jolting awake, Deku’s head rolls sideways and he nearby tumbles to the ground. He’s not holding on anymore.
“Ey!” Katsuki yells, catching and lowering them both in a stumble to the frozen dirt.
Deku’s eyes are closed, skin washed out so that his scar stands out like when it was fresh. Katsuki growls, shaking him to similarly uninspiring responses.
Okay, they’re close enough.
He tries to pop his hands but feels next to nothing in them. The feeling ratchets his heart rate to new heights— Edge shot would be proud. He recalls the feeling of pain racing through his veins, activating his quirk to another level.
Katsuki sinks his teeth into his forearm. The pain is grounding but more than that, it triggers a stronger feeling of sweat in his palms. He lets it build as he stands and sprints to gather more.
After a minute he flies up and shoots the biggest firework he can into the sky. It bursts like an umbrella of light above the treetops, a BOOM echoing through the darkness.
In the brief moment that he stays airborne afterward, he thinks he sees a cluster of lights in the distance. He prays it’s the city, and that they like fireworks.
No sooner do his feet his the ground than he turns and blasts the closest tree at its base with equal fury. It crashes to the earth and Katsuki grabs a fistful of branches and drags it over to Deku. Then he lights it on fire.
Throughout the clamor Deku is motionless.
“You think I won’t win, Deku?” Katsuki demands, dragging Deku upright by the arms. “I always win! Don’t you dare try to stop me!”
Deku’s head lolls as he’s positioned onto a portion of ground by the burning tree that Katsuki cleared and meagerly tarped with a rough layer of leaves. He moans weakly, eyelids flickering like they weigh a thousand pounds. Katsuki notes that Deku’s effort correlates to the jostling his broken leg.
Deku’s gotta stay awake. He’s *gotta* stay awake.
His hand reaches out and closes over the spot he knows a bone is split in two, nausea overtaking him.
He squeezes. Deku’s eyes fly open.
“Let’s win this!” Katsuki screams over the choked cry of pain.
…
It’s like he’s having a manic episode— something has snapped inside him. He races around their makeshift campsite in a blur of speed, hardly touching the ground in between goals. He heats rocks in the fire til they glow, then cools them enough to shove in Deku’s core reas— Deku valiantly latches on to the situation as best he can and doesn’t let his eyes close past half-mast from then on (with a couple exceptions that he got yelled at for).
When he’s not abusing Deku into staying awake, Katsuki shoots off more fireworks. He doesn’t let the feeling of sweat fade from his hands again, no matter how exhaustion begins to take its toll on him too.
Their burning tree fills the air with a pleasant smoky pinewood smell. If he squints, it’s a nice facsimile of a camp out.
“I’m gonna find you an internship with a paradise island hero, next time,” he says as he shoves more wood on top of their bonfire, causing an excited plume of flames to stretch upwards.
When the burst of flames dissipates into sparks, Katsuki thinks he sees something shift in the darkness. He goes stiff.
“Who’s there?” he demands after a long moment of listening.
His feet take him closer to Deku, who is looking a little less corpse-like after the measures taken to raise his temperature, but still out of it. He blinks up at Katsuki questioningly, clearly sensing a shift.
“Hello there! Are you in need of assistance?” a voice calls back to him from the dark, and Katsuki could cry.
“We need first aid for hypothermia, and his leg’s busted,” he rushes out, waving a hand at Deku. “Is there shelter nearby?”
A few people step into the light of the fire, homemade-looking weapons the ready like they’re not sure whether Katsuki could be laying a trap for them. That strikes him as odd, but he puts a pin in it. Mountain people probably have different standards of safety than city goers.
“It’s just you two?” the man asks, lowering his bat and leading the others closer. There are four totally, Katsuki sees now, all bundled in winter clothing including masks over their mouths and noses.
He nods. “We’re heroes who got separated from the Frostwatch Hero agency. Is this still Shirogane Ridge?”
The men stop. The three behind their leader look at one another, but the man in front cocks his head.
“This is Shirogane Ridge,” he says carefully.
He shoves the bat he’s holding in his back pocket and continues forward, rounding the bonfire. The others follow.
“Is the town nearby?” Katsuki asks, tracking their movement carefully. The others put their weapons away too.
“There’s no town for at least an hour by car,” a man in a blue cap says. “But our compound is about twenty minutes’ walk that way.”
“Compound?”
“Just a wilderness retreat,” the leader says, tone placating. From what Katsuki can see they all have plain features, no mutation quirks or anything that would enable them to want to live out in the middle of nowhere. “We’d be happy to lend some help. Mind if we check you over first?”
Deku makes a noise behind Katsuki, some kind of mumble that he cant decipher. Katsuki steps aside and allows the strangers access to view him fully.
“Aw, you’re not looking so great, young man,” blue cap says, kneeling to get a look at the splint. “Good work, though. Where did you say you’re from?”
“We’re third years from UA interning at Frostwatch,” Katsuki says, handing his provisional hero license over to the leader. Maybe that’ll get these country weirdos to put some pep in their step.
As the men pour over it, a beep draws Katsuki’s attention to the ground. Blue cap man has out some kind of scanner, like a forehead thermometer, held to Deku’s forehead. “Oi!” Katsuki protests on instinct, stepping closer.
The device lights up green. Blue cap shoves it back in his pocket and the men all look at each other again.
“Okay, let’s get you some help,” leader man brushes past, gesturing the others closer.
Katsuki narrows his eyes but bites his tongue, logging every movement. He realizes belatedly that his hands have been sparking off and on and makes an effort to tone it down.
They have packaged food with them, some kind of granola bar that they offer them first. Katsuki’s stomach growls and he feels the cavernous emptiness in his gut ache. After ripping one open to sniff and take a small bite, he shoves the rest in Deku’s mouth and devours his own. They share the water bottle offered to them equally.
The biggest guy offers to take Deku, give Katsuki a rest, but no sooner does the image of a stranger running off with wounded Deku enter his brain than he shuts that down. He shoos them away and hoists the nerd onto his aching back, his steady breaths comforting by Katsuki’s ear as he follows behind four strangers in the middle of the woods.
He’s not sure whether to feel proud or stupid that their walk is really about 20-30 minutes before seeing lights up ahead. The men are quiet, at least to him and Deku— since he keeps his distance he can’t make out whatever they duck their heads to say to one another. It occurs to him that their reaction to his hero license was far more neutral compared to the guy who had him sign his arm.
Why has this day felt like a week already?
The structure they approach is gated, tall wired fence clawing into the night in a clearing past the break in trees, parallel to the road he saw earlier. As they approach, Leader goes on ahead and speaks to some kind of security guard at the door, gesticulating in their direction.
He tightens his grip on Deku’s good leg. Deku’s arms tighten on his neck.
“Trap?” he mutters without moving his mouth, flicking his eyes between the men and the overkill fence.
Deku shifts, matted hair tickling Katsuki’s neck as he looks up. “Maybe,” he breathes. “Choice?”
The leader turns and waves to them. “You’re good to come in, young men!”
Katsuki follows them through.
The layout of brick structures is plain and straightforward, like a campground. People turn and stare at the newcomers curiously, including a few kids. These are quickly ushered inside as they pass.
“The mess hall is this way,” Leader says, pointing. “We had stew for dinner tonight. Does that sound all right?”
“You got a lot of families for a nature retreat in the middle of nowhere,” Katsuki says.
The man laughs. “Lots of folks come here with their loved ones. Sorry about security being so tight— you never know with the state of society, am I right?”
Katsuki raises an eyebrow.
The other men peel off by the time they step foot into the warm, blessedly *warm* building. Cafeteria tables line the hall like a school lunch room but they stand empty, aside from the ones he and Deku are led to.
“I’m Takao Nishimura, by the way,” the guy says, finally lowering his mask as he sits across from them.
Katsuki gets Deku’s bad leg laid out on the bench then positions himself on his other side. “Dynamight,” he says, like it’s obvious. Because it should be.
“Oh yes,” Nishimura says, flicking Katsuki’s hero license out of his vest and appraising it again. Katsuki starts— he totally forgot he didn’t get it back.
“You’ll have to tell me more about what this means,” Nishimura says, looking at Katsuki with a difficult-to-read smile. “I’ve never seen such a thing.”
“Uh… okay?” Katsuki huffs, accepting the license back. It looks as ordinary as a hero license ever does.
If this is some kind of extremist colony, at least they’re open to sharing resources. The warm bowls of stew and a plate of bread set before them by an aproned woman make his mouth begin to water immediately.
“Thank you, Ami,” Nishimura nods, fingers intertwined to hammock his chin. The woman nods and leaves them. “Well— dig in. Our doctor is gathering together supplies and then he’ll be in to see you, Mister…?”
He’s looking at Deku questioningly, but Deku is staring at the soup dazedly. Katsuki nudges his shoulder.
“Oh, Midoriya,” he says.
“Midoriya,” he smiles. Full of smiles, this guy. “We’re happy to help you out. Please warm your insides— then we’ll get you into some freshly warmed clothes from the launderer and settled down in spare bunks.”
A part of Katsuki knows it all sounds too good to be true. But a bigger part is just glad they’re not in the snow anymore, and doesn’t want to be cold ever again.
He picks up his spoon and takes the best bite of food he’s ever tasted (even if it’s not spicy). Deku follows suit.
Mugs of blessedly warm tea are brought to them also, as well as Nishimura. When Katsuki is able to look away from his own bowl, he’s satisfied to see Deku’s form less withered into himself for warmth, more spread onto his forearms on the table. He’s blinking sleepily as he sips the tea in scarred hands.
Katsuki puts the back of his hand to the nerd’s head and feels a human temperature. Hope rises in his chest.
“Doctor Fujimoto can take you now,” Nishimura says.
He looks up to see the man from before, his blue cap now missing but the mask still in place. He reaches to assist Deku and Katsuki stands too, except Nishimura holds up a hand.
“I can take you to your accommodations,” he says, looking at Katsuki.
“I’m staying with him,” Katsuki says, pushing off the bench. A rush of lightheadedness causes him to stumble, and he clenches the table for support.
“You’re both exhausted,” Nishimura reasons. “Let’s get you—“
Deku’s head thunks onto the table, rattling the empty dishes. For a brief second, they could’ve heard a pin drop in the cafeteria.
Nishimura and the doctor look at one another.
Katsuki lunges.
He kicks the doctor in the chest, and the man goes sprawling to the ground a few feet away. The door to the cafeteria kicks open and armed men pour in, surrounding them in an instant. Katsuki spins to face them but even after he plants his feet back to back with unconscious Deku, the world keeps spinning.
“That wasn’t very nice, ‘hero’,” Nishimura says pleasantly. “Though you’re delusional enough to go around calling yourself that, so I’m not surprised.”
Katsuki hears the click of a gun safety and grinds his teeth so hard his jaw ticks. Slowly he raises his hands and turns to see Nishimura aiming at his head from behind.
“On your knees,” he says.
Katsuki flicks his eyes from the gun to his face and slowly complies. The world spinning hasn’t stopped, a nauseating merry-go-round disconnecting him from reality. He’s probably moments from Deku’s fate.
He growls lowly, “What do you want.”
The men seem to find this funny. Nishimura looks to the side and Katsuki follows his gaze— someone has helped Fujimoto off the ground, and the man looks suitably pissed.
“Check him,” Nishimura instructs.
The doctor hmphs and pulls that weird thermometer-looking thing from his pocket that he used on Deku earlier. He approaches just enough to reach out his arm and hover it over Katsuki’s forehead before pressing a button.
It beeps and lights up red.
“Metahuman scum,” someone says in the tone of a slur.
“Not that we weren’t already pretty sure, based on those flares,” Nishimura says pleasantly. “Just had to check. Especially since you’re traveling with someone clean.”
What are they on about? Katsuki wonders, fighting to keep his hands raised as static encroaches on his vision. Metahuman? Like the liberation society?
But no, his mind supplies quietly. That’s not quite right.
Nobody here has shown any sign of having or using a quirk since the moment they met; they wear masks as though afraid of catching a disease off him and Deku. And the time shifted back when they first got here— in the fire it was night. Then it was day, and the town was gone.
“What year is it?” he asks.
Nishimura hums, like he’s an academic showing interest in new research. “Few hundred years before the dates on your ID. Like I said, can’t wait to hear the story behind that.”
I have less explanation than you’d think, Katsuki thinks.
He hits the ground. He reaches for Deku but dark closes in as he’s hauled away.