Untitled. [BKDK]

1: Izuku.

–
Izuku and Katsuki had met before.

"Oh, sorry. Is Hero better? What name did you choose for yourself?"

Katsuki didn't know his name or what he looked like, and all the pitiful presence of the weaker teen evoked within him was an invasive feeling of Deja vú.

"Why are you talking to me like we've fucking met?" The hero spat.

Izuku inhaled the faint smell of caramel, bracing himself for what was to come.

Somehow, their encounters always went down nearly identically to the last. The curly-haired teen smiled, picking at the skin around his nails as he walked away from the railing.

"Where's the rest of you?" Dabi rolled his eyes, not once looking away from the aftermath of the crime scene a block or two away.

Without a second thought, Katsuki charged at the black-haired man with an open palm. The sound of small explosions created a shocking, short echo in the otherwise peaceful air. Grey smoke clouded the crimson-eyed hero's vision, and he was convinced that he had him now.

"You're too easy, little Kacchan. You're friends with Shoto, aren't you? Have you all been taught with this level of mediocrity?" Once the smoke cleared, Katsuki realized there was no limp body on the ground before him. Instead, a calm, dead voice whispered into his neck.

He only shivered at the unpleasant feeling of a hand gripping his arm, careful not to move an inch. His instinct was trained too well for him to attack, after all.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" Kacchan. Kacchan. Kacchan. Where the hell did he remember that name from?

The hero could only glare as the oddly familiar villain walked toward him. He looked at his eyes, then his freckles, then his hair. He knew he was missing something, did he know him?

Izuku winked at the man that held the hero hostage, coming closer and closer until he and Katsuki's faces were only inches apart. "I thought you would be better at strategy by now, Kacchan. Is Aizawa-sensei not teaching you well enough?"

"Don't- Why the fuck do you know all of this?" He felt Dabi's fingers tighten their grip on his arm. Shit.

"It's good to see you again, Kacchan." The villain examined the explosive hero, not backing down an inch as he waited for a reaction.

"I don't understand anything." He stared into Izuku's eyes for a few seconds too long. Deku.

"Your name..."

"Come on, Kacchan. You usually take less to figure it out. Don't be weak."

Deku.

"...Deku?" Izuku could feel his heart drop to his stomach.

He exhaled heavily. "You can let go now, Dabi."

–

Izuku and Katsuki had met before.

Izuku remembered every detail of his childhood, and he knew for a fact the same couldn't be said about Katsuki.

Izuku thought kindly of his mother, of everything she sacrificed to raise him. He knew he liked the way she cooked. He knew he loved Inko Midoriya as much as a boy was capable of loving his mother.

Izuku remembered how miserable he was once his quirk manifested, too. He resented the society he was raised in for making him hide it. He resented his present, his future, and his past.

Izuku remembered Katsuki.

It was bittersweet.

Izuku blamed himself, but only partially.

He was too young when he learned just how cruel the world could really be.

His quirk manifested at age six. By then, it was too late to convince Katsuki that perhaps he, little Izuku, wasn't as useless as everyone claimed.

The blond's stupid, empty words had done their fair amount of damage by then. So even if he could convince Katsuki, it wouldn't have been worth the trouble.

A dead-eyed, green-haired teen placed his hand over Katsuki's forehead. It was the last day of middle school when Izuku finally gave up.

He wouldn't risk his life to save anyone ever again.

–

The sunset, the crime scene, Dabi, Toga; Everything save for a pale, freckled villain and a crimson-eyed hero was temporarily gone.

The rooftop felt empty. It'd been over ten minutes of a deafening ringing in Katsuki's ears. He needed answers, he needed to know why he felt like he'd seen 'Deku' before, why he even remembered his name to begin with.

Normally, he'd demand answers. He'd scream, yell, say something hurtful. But how the fuck was he going to push someone he didn't know's buttons?

It was no longer daytime, Katsuki took note of that. He wondered for just a split second if anyone planned on looking for him.

Izuku sighed. "Do you still feel as small as you did when the USJ incident happened?"

Katsuki hesitated for a moment. "I..."

"You can't answer that, I know," With his eyes fixed on the dimmed stars inhabiting the night sky, the villain foolishly searched for Saggitarius once again. "Do you want to meet me again?"

"I could put you in prison if I fucking wanted to."

Izuku chuckled. He knew now not to listen to his threats, they were always equally as empty. Sitting on the cold concrete, the villain patted the ground beside him.

"Just sit down, Katsuki."

"You've never done it before and you won't do it now."

Katsuki blinked incredulously. "What makes you think you can talk to me like you're my fucking old hag? Don't order me the fuck around, damnit."

"You wish Mitsuki would talk to you like I'm doing right now," Izuku tried his hardest not to run low on patience. It was hard, considering how stubborn the blond hero was.

"You need this. It's why we always end up in the same situation. Sit, Katsuki. You won't even know it happened."

"Fucking fine."