Death Paradox 💥BAKUDEKU💥

Chapter 7

Strength

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Chapter 7

Katsuki didn't soften his words. Just laid them out like a truth he was still wrapping his fists around.

"This quirk swap... it's not just the power. It's you. Your instincts. Your way of thinking. Your damn voice in my head. I've been seeing it—feeling it—the way you carry everything like you've got no other choice."

He paused. Something flickered behind his eyes. It wasn't pity. No, it was understanding.

"I get it now," he said again, softer this time. "I stood where you've stood. Lived your shit. Thought the way you do. I've felt that pressure—like every failure is yours alone. Like if something goes wrong, it's your fault. Like if you stop, even for a second, someone else is gonna die."

Izuku was near speechless. He didn't think Katsuki the person to see the world through someone else's eyes.

Katsuki eyes drifted to the lines, the mask as his voice dropped to something rough and real. "But you're not alone anymore, Deku."

The words landed like a punch to the gut—but not a cruel one. Not even angry. Just solid. Grounding. And his voice, when it came again, was so much softer than before. But somehow it hit harder. Like a sword against steel.

"You don't have to bottle all this shit up anymore."

It felt like Izuku suddenly couldn't breathe through the pressure in his chest. Katsuki kept going, steady, like he wasn't just saying this for Izuku—like he needed to say it for himself too.

"This quirk—Fatebreaker's thing—whatever the hell it did to us..."

He leaned back slightly, gaze never wavering. "It chose both of us. Or maybe it cursed us both. Doesn't matter which. What matters is, it linked us. Bound us together through that red thread bullshit."

Izuku's fingers curled faintly in the sheets.

"So even though I don't understand why that damn quirk decided we're tethered—soul to soul, or whatever—then you better believe I'm not gonna let you shoulder this crap alone."

Katsuki's paused for a moment like this was scraping out of a place he didn't like to open. "We're not gonna beat this unless we trust each other. Wholly. Completely. No more half-truths, no more biting your damn tongue because you think you're protecting me. No more carrying it like it's your job to suffer in silence."

His eyes burned like live hell flame. "Because if we don't trust each other now—like really trust each other—we're gonna fail."

Izuku's throat tightened. He tried to blink it away, tried to focus on the rhythm of the heart monitor, on the sting in his IV line, on anything but the pressure building behind his eyes.

But it didn't work.

Because Katsuki wasn't wrong.

He knew all of this. He knew the weight was too much for one person. He knew they'd never survive this unless they stood together. Unless they shared it.

And still—

Still, he hadn't told him. Still, he hadn't said the one thing that mattered most... the reason why this all started. Why Katsuki was even here. Why this thread existed between them at all.

His chest twisted so sharply it felt like his ribs might crack.

He dropped his gaze.

And the tears started to fall—quiet at first. Just a few. Soft streaks that cut down his cheeks and soaked into the corner of the pillow. He didn't sob. Didn't wail. Just... cried. Soft and small and miserable. And God, there was so much he hadn't said.