❛ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴋᴀᴄᴄʜᴀɴ❜

【 ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ 】

🥦 Izuku POV 🥦

"Midoriya."

I groaned, covering my face with the blanket I was snuggled in.
"Five more minutes~" I whined.
"You said that an hour ago."
I pushed the blanket back, eyeing the dishevelled hero that knelt beside me.
"I know you're tired, but you can't lay on this sofa all day."
I looked around. I was in a cosy room, laying on a dark brown sofa. The walls were beige, with paintings decorating them. There was a small table infront of the sofa, littered with outdated newspapers and dirty coffee cups.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"A small cottage in the middle of nowhere."

I paused.

"Don't worry about where you are, just worry about where you're going."

"I'm going somewhere?" I asked.

"Yeah, to the kitchen to make some tea," he smiled, ruffling my fluffy hair playfully. I giggled and nodded.

"Sure thing."

***
💥 Katsuki POV 💥

Beep Beep.

I slowly pryed my eyelids open, squinting at my phone on the nightstand, which was flashing. Swiping it off the table, I had to read the caller ID four times before it actually registered in my brain.

I picked up.

"I swear if I hear his voicemail again, I'm gonna punch him in the face."

"Try it, shitty hair."

"Oh shit, he picked up!!" Kirishima squealed, "Bakubro!"

"Don't call me that," I muttered.

"Okay...sorry dude."

"Don't fucking apologise, you're worse than Dek-" I paused.

"...You alright? What the hell am I saying, of course you're not. Want me to come round?"

"...no," I whispered, trying to cover up the fact that I was leaking from my eyeballs...not crying. I don't cry 😒

"Let me rephrase that. I'm coming round to support you, whether you like it or not."

And he hung up. I stared at my phone. So he's actually grown a pair...good for him. Shaking my head, I rolled out for bed and got changed.

***

A knock on my door alerted me to shitty hair's arrival. With a small groan, I opened the door and let him in.
"You look..uh...better?" He said, staring at me. I smiled slightly.
"Fucking liar," I replied. He smiled back at me.
"Maybe you should talk to Recovery Girl, she might be able to help."
"Yeah, maybe."

○ Major timeskip ○

Entering Recovery Girls office, I tried to smile at the old woman hunched over her desk surrounded by papers.
"Don't smile, it's weird."
I frowned.
"Much better," She looked up from her work, "now how can I be of assistance, Bakugou?"
I paused, looking down at the ground. She probably guessed what I was going to say, because she looked at me with sad eyes and nodded.

"Take a seat."

I sunk down on the bed in her office, running my hand over the crisp white sheets. Deku had been here alot, after his battles against his quirk. I frowned, remembering how I sat beside him, and left before he woke. I couldn't have my violent image tarnished. But I regret it. I regret treating him like crap, I regret running away before he woke up, I regret not being there when he needed me...

I have too many regrets.

"Wait here a moment, I need to go get something for you, okay?" Recovery Girl spoke, interrupting my thoughts.
"Sure, I haven't really got anywhere else to be right now."
She nodded and left the room without another word. I sighed, kicking my legs gently over the side of the bed. That's when I noticed a small piece of scrunched up paper sticking out from under the pillow. Curiousity getting the better of me, I pulled it out and opened it up, staring at the words scribbled on it.

'I need you, Kacchan. '

I froze. There was no doubt in my mind that the handwriting belonged to Deku. I knew his writing better than I knew my own, from flicking through his stupid notebooks in middle school. But when did he write this, and why? He was dead, wasn't he? The door opened, and I quickly scrunched the paper up and shoved it into my pocket. Recovery Girl came in with a box, the word 'anti-depressant' jumping out at me.

"This will help-"

"Nevermind, I don't need it."

She stared at me quizzically.

"Thank you for all your help, I'll uh..see myself out," I rambled, jumping off the bed and rushing out of the room. Kirishima was right, seeing Recovery Girl did help. Deku was alive. I don't know how, but my gut feeling confirmed what little I had to go by with his note. He couldn't have written that before his death, why would he need to? I held the note tightly in the palm of my hand as I rushed through the hallways and out of the school.

If Deku needs me, then I'll fucking be there.

▪*:･°✧°･: *▪

Word Count: 825

Published: 08/07/2018