Kiss the Villain

       A long time ago, if you asked Katsuki what he thought of Izuku Midoriya, he'd reply with a snarky comment about how the nerd was weak or always got in the way. He'd say 'Deku's a useless waste of space'.

       If you asked him now, he'd put more thought into his answer. He might give credit where credit was due and say 'he's annoying with all that muttering, but he's strong and cares about his friends, so maybe he's not all that bad', and then deny it immediately after. Of course, he wouldn't even think about saying those things unless you asked after his big fight with Deku.

       After Katsuki's fight with Deku, he'd begun to ask himself... why? Why did he hate him so much? Why did he keep trying to push away the one friend who truly cared? Why didn't he take that small, pudgy little hand in the river that day? Why hasn't he tried to make up for it?

       For a split, reflexive moment, he'd think, 'I don't need to; I have nothing to apologize for', only to have a more reasonable thought of, 'I don't want to look weak'.

       'I don't want to admit that I was wrong or that I care'.

       'I'm scared'.

       Because he was scared. God, he was terrified. He knew that Deku would probably appreciate more than the possibility of Katsuki giving him the stars and the moon, but there was always the thought in the back of Katsuki's mind that Deku was tired. Worn down from constantly trying to be his friend when all Katsuki did was push him down and leave him in the dust. Again and again, Katsuki tried to leave him behind, but again and again, Deku continued to surprise him by coming back with a blinding smile or a happy 'Kacchan!'

       It had been a really long time since Deku had sounded happy saying his name. From middle school up to high school, Deku sounded tired, scared, or angry calling out to him. He sounded exasperated, and Katsuki had no one to blame but himself.

       He figured the fight at Ground Beta would be the last straw. Maybe Deku would finally realize that he wasn't worth it. That he should just pack his bags and leave the space he had carved into Katsuki's heart and mind. He wanted Deku to give up. He wanted it so bad. Because as long as Deku kept trying to reach for Katsuki's hand, he'd be met with disappointment after disappointment and never find the happiness he deserved, and that wasn't a life worth living, not for Izuku Midoriya. Nor for Deku. But he didn't stop trying.

       While they cleaned, Katsuki was aware of just about every move the nerd made. And when Deku spoke, he was hesitant, voice soft and delicate like glass. Katsuki could almost see the cracks on his frame. Chipped away from years of abuse, but never truly giving up. Katsuki had put those chips there. Katsuki was the villain of Izuku's story; that was something Katsuki figure he could never apologize for.

       "What-" he said carefully, "what did you think of my shoot style?" Again, voice so soft and delicate, Katsuki pictured Izuku holding his damaged heart out, not for Katsuki to take, never for him to take, but showing. Asking. Showing Katsuki how hurt he was, and asking him to never do it again. That was something Katsuki had vowed to himself, but never out loud.

       His first thought was to laugh and tell him it was amazing, just to try to build Izuku back up, not to knock him down again, but because he desperately needed it. Not only was his heart damaged, but his self-esteem was too, once again, that was Katsuki's fault, but Deku didn't want flowery words of encouragement as much as the others did. He wanted real suggestions because that would help him become a better hero, even though Katsuki was sure he'd be amazing already.

       "Your movements were too big," he tried to keep his voice neutral, but it wavered. Izuku didn't seem to notice though. "I just barely had time to move." Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki could see Izuku's smile growing big. Immediately, it was blinding.