Bonnie & Klein.

One.

After six months on the job, Izuku is beginning to see the value in a quiet, lazy, non-explosive day with no errands to run, no plans with friends, and no surprise villains popping out of the woodworks.

It's not just a dime a dozen. It's like, a needle in a haystack kinda' thing.

Don't get him wrong, Izuku is living the life he's worked years for. It's just, you know. A lot of work.

Izuku flops his head back against the broken half-couch he yoinked off the curb of some apartment two blocks down the road. He breathes in, then out, and revels in the sound of utter silence.

The lock to his apartment door begins to jiggle, and Izuku doesn't even bother to open his eyes.

It opens, goes clunk against the doorstopper, then slams shut.

"I'm gonna' kill my neighbor," Kacchan hisses, popping the lock with his elbow. "Gonna' do it slow, so it hurts. Ever heard of Chinese water torture?"

Izuku hums.

"I gave you that key in good faith, you know."

"I don't know who came up with the bright idea to rent out a top floor apartment to a goddamn elephant, but they're dead too." Kacchan chucks his black jacket onto the fruit crate Izuku is currently using as a dining chair, and plops next to him on the couch. It clouds a puff of dust. "Dude, your place sucks ass."

"Then go home to your elephant."

"My one day off, n' they've been vacuuming for two hours," grumbles Kacchan. He plops his head back on the couch to mirror him, and Izuku peeks open an eye. "That's actually something you could use around here."

"I don't have vacuum money," Izuku huffs. "I just paid rent."

Kacchan grumbles something like tell me 'bout it, and Izuku has a hard time closing his eyes again.

They're both bruised and sore from the work week. Kacchan has a bandage wrapped up his left arm, and there's a hole in his ear from the earring that got ripped out during a fight (he wasn't very happy about that one). Izuku is currently resisting the urge to pick at the stitches on his own chin, so the irritation is mutual.

Izuku's apartment is one of the older models, with the peeling eighties wallpaper and no AC. Fresh out of highschool, he really was happy just to find a roof, especially on a low hero salary. Iida offered him a couch at his place, but Izuku wanted the independence. And the termites, apparently.

"Just a few more months," Izuku says. "Then we'll start earning tenure."

Kacchan tips his head to look at him, and Izuku feels his heart skip. He's been trying very hard not to let it do that, but it's been jumping fences and following Kacchan ever since he was five. He's just...handsome like this. Too tired to bitch and complain, but still irritable and grouchy like a cat. Sometimes, Izuku wishes he could pet into his hair just to see if it's soft. Maybe in another life.

"It's like everything we did at UA didn't mean shit. No one gives a fuck what you've done, only what you're doing now. S' a goddam hamster wheel."

Izuku frowns. With such low approval of heroes in recent years, it was an accomplishment just to get hired at the same hero firm. He doesn't want Kacchan to leave him, but he doesn't want him to be unhappy here, either. He would tear out his still-beating heart and hold it in his hands if it meant Kacchan would smile and laugh. But he's done neither of those things for quite some time.

"Do you...want to quit?"

Kacchan snaps at him, "Fuck no, you lost your tiny mind? I'm still gonna' kick your ass and become number one." He then hesitates, and Izuku's ears perk up at the silence. Kacchan looks at him oddly, before flicking his gaze back to the popcorn ceiling. "There's something I didn't tell you."