It's been a bit. Not as long as before. I don't think at least… Quarantine is weird, but hey! I'm officially a college grad this Saturday! I mean I'm still student teaching through June 5, but still! Speaking of student teaching, I got to teach Fanfiction in my Creative Writing class which was a blast and made me feel especially nerdy!

There's some cute fluff and less angst (in my humble opinion) in this chapter, so yay!

Also, this chapter really be feeling that "Are they just friends, or is it gay?" vibe that we love about Bakugou and Deku interacting. As an English major, I always appreciate the queer subtext in a text, so I hope you enjoy too.

Thanks for all the support, comments, and patience! Even if I'm bad at always responding to comments, know that I see you, I read them many times, geek over them with my friends, and appreciate absolutely every single one of you who reads this wholeheartedly!

Let me know your thoughts about this chapter and the fic as a whole!

Chapter 6: And Flowers of Another

It was the second week in July, and that meant summer break was just around the corner. Like most teenagers, Katsuki was eagerly anticipating the coming break; however, unlike most teenagers, he was dreading the end of the school time.

He wasn't dreading this end for typical reasons like not seeing friends or missing the extra curriculars or even just the fact that he would no longer have the simple routine of school to fall back on. (Though he could admit that the routine was sometimes the only thing that kept him moving some days.)

So yes, Katsuki was looking forward to being able to spend his break retraining himself, becoming comfortable in his own skin, feeling the spark of his sweat once more. But, before he could do that, it would be July 15th.

It was about a week away from the end of the school term, and Katsuki was once again sitting in Dr. Hiruluk's office. He had gotten better with talking recently even if he never shared as much with the doctor as he ever would with Inko. There were some things that strangers could never understand after all, and the doctor would always be a stranger to Izuku no matter how many stories Katsuki shared.

The session started as it always did, with questions about Katsuki's current school situation. How was his week? Any friends yet?

Katsuki shrugged off the questions, and Dr. Hiruluk let him stir in the silence for a bit, easily noticing the newest weighted cloud swirling through Katsuki's thoughts. Dr. Hiruluk pretended to busy himself by fiddling with his pen and writing in his notepad, content to wait for Katsuki to break the silence.

Katsuki broke the silence suddenly with no preamble. "It's his birthday next week. The first since… yeah…"

Katsuki trailed back off into silence. The burst had taken a bit of the tension from the room and off the young boy's shoulders, but it was clear that he wasn't finished. The silence dragged on again as the doctor waited for Katsuki to continue airing his thoughts.

"How old-" Dr. Hiruluk finally began asking when it seemed nothing more would come from Katsuki without prompting.

But Katsuki began speaking once again at the same moment. This time, he didn't stop. This time, it didn't seem like he was saying it for the doctor's sake. "And I know it's fucked up, but I feel like I should be there to celebrate. Celebrate?" the blonde scoffed. "Like there's anything happy about this…"

Only then did he seem to remember the doctor and went on to clarify his thoughts, trying to shape his feelings for the man whose job it was to fix him. "He'll be fifteen like me. I always made fun of him for that when we were little. He was the little wimp, the crybaby, had to follow me around his whole fucking life. God." Katsuki's head fell back against the chair as he closed his eyes and sank deeper into his slumped position. "I was stupid."

Dr. Hiruluk leaned forwards as the boy finished, trying to keep his voice gentle and comforting. "It's normal to feel guilty about our pasts, and it's much easier for our minds to remember the bad things.

"But," the boy needed to understand how to move past the negatives, needed to be comforted by the past instead of dwelling on it, needed so much more than he was given, but this was all Dr. Hiruluk could offer. "It's Izuku's birthday, so what are some positives from your past together? What are those happy memories? Share those instead. Cherish and celebrate the moments you had that you were happy instead of mourning the wrong choices."

Katsuki opened his eyes to peer at the doctor, "Positives, huh?" He sighed, trying to remember. It seemed that he was constantly hautnted by all the awful things he had done, but there had to be something good in there, right? There had to be a reason behind why Izuku had ever followed him; they hadn't always been at odds; Katsuki hadn't always been…

"Sometimes I'm not sure we ever had any…" Katsuki sighed again, thinking back to those times when it hadn't mattered or they hadn't known or there wasn't a difference that Izuku didn't have a quirk, would never have a quirk. "But I guess, when we were really little we were playing with Play-Doh, making fake cookies and shit to sell, and I decided it would be so much better if we made real cookies to give to Ink-Izuku's mom.

"So we go in the kitchen and just start grabbing shit like we were five years old and had no fucking clue what we were doing, but we knew we had to mix some sugar and flour and water together, right? That's how baking works," Katsuki could feel the smile pull at his lips as he remembered the smell of Play-Doh, the feel of dry, chalky residue it left on dirtied childish palms, the smile Izuku wore when they worked together.

"But things weren't sticking right, so I got the bright idea, hey, you know what will help, the Play-Doh. It sticks together plus then our cookies will be pretty colors," Katsuki was almost excited. "And when we finally had the dough finished, I used my quir…"

Oh. He had forgotten. Izuku and him and his Quirk usually meant burns and tears in green eyes, but back then it hadn't. Explosions were destructive, but Izuku admired them, loved them. He had seen beyond the flames and crumbling rubble, past the burns and scorched flesh. Katsuki's quirk was more in Izuku's eyes; it was beautiful.

"Katsuki?" Dr. Hiruluk interrupted the boy's thoughts. He had been quiet for longer than he thought, sinking into thoughts of happy remembrance this time.

"Sorry, I-I used my quirk to "bake" them." It was still a struggle to get over that word, especially in relation to himself, especially when talking about Izuku. "But I was fucking five, so I didn't have very good control. So this nasty bright blue crumbly shit that's both too salty and too sweet and too bitter all at once starts flying all around the kitchen.

"But," now it was like Katsuki was a master storyteller, stringing along his audience, both of them equally excited to hear how the tale would end. "We got one. One whole ass cookie that was burnt on the edges and looked like a cat threw it up, and we put it on a goddamn plate and brought it to Izuku's mom with these bright grins on our faces, so fucking proud of our stupidity.

"At first, she didn't know what to say, but eventually she smiled, took a bite—I shit you not—told us how absolutely goddamn delicious it was, and then proceeded to give us the biggest fucking lecture of our lives as we all cleaned the kitchen. It was-it was nice…" It was strange remembering nice times with Izuku. Good, sweet, his chest felt warmer and lighter but strange nonetheless.

"Well," One could tell that Dr. Hiruluk had seen and heard some shit in his time because he didn't even bat an eyelash to the childish destruction. Instead, he prompted Katsuki towards thinking once more about the present and the future. It was good to see him embrace something cheerful from the past, but it would inevitably be just as unhealthy for him to be stuck in those good times as it would for him to be obsessed with the bad.

"I wouldn't recommend bringing Play-Doh cookies when you go to celebrate, but maybe there's something else you could do to celebrate. Balloons or a stuffed animal or flowers, maybe? Something that could stay there but could feel like a present, like something is actually being celebrated."

But it was as though someone had finally unclogged the stream of happy memories because Katsuki just went onto another story, falling into his memories again. "He used to pick all the goddamn flowers when we'd go on our adventures, ripping them out as we'd run. It always slowed him down, and I'd get on his case for it, but he'd look at me with that stupid fucking sunshine look on his face. He'd hand them to me all goddamn pleased with himself…

There's a group of five or so young boys no older than age 6, running over a hilltop into the sunshine. Their silhouettes boast knobby knees and stick swords. They run into what would appear like a grand forest to ones so young (it has a small crick and everything!). The blonde, clearly in charge of the boys, stands back as he orders them to begin looking through the trees and under rocks for bugs.

He stands young and confident, stick held aloft with the pride of one who has wielded an actual blade for years. He was obviously a talented fighter and an even better ruler hence why he didn't need to do the actual dirty work.

The final boy in the troupe who had been lagging behind the others finally comes up beside the blond, green eyes bright and shining, a smile stretched across his freckled cheeks. The green eyed boy has wildflowers clutched in his small fists, holding them out for the blonde boy.

"And what are these supposed to be?" The blonde boy scoffs looking down his nose at the other boy.

"Flowers!" The green one exclaims happily, smile shining even brighter. "For you, Kacchan! The red ones remind me of your quirk, and the yellow ones are like your hair, and the orange ones are your favorite color, and-"

The blonde's scowl deepens as he listens to the other boy begin his explanation. "And what do you think I'm supposed to do with them?"

The green-eyed boy is undeterred. "Keep 'em! They're a present." He explains simply.

"I don't need your flowers Deku. I'm not a girl." The blonde turns his back on the green-eyed boy, looking over his grand forest realm instead. He was an uncaring, unfeeling barbarian king after all.

"But Kacchan…" The disappointment was heavy in his voice as the arm holding the flowers dropped to his side.

"'I'm a hero. I don't have time for flowers,' I told him. But when I found a four-leaf clover at the end of the day, I gave it to him. We were walking home, and everyone else had already fucked off, so it was just the two of us.

The same blonde boy and his green-eyed companion are walking back over the same hill with the same sun, now setting, now behind them. They walk together now even though they don't really seem to talk, they seem content, or at least tired enough to appear content, to just be with each other.

As they reach the top of the hill, it is the blonde who turns to the green-eyed boy this time. "Here Deku," he is still scowling, but this time it is the blonde that extends his hand with a plant clutched in his hand.

"K-kacchan?" Where before there was disappointment, now there is bewilderment.

"It's cooler than a stupid flower," the blonde boy is still scowling even as a blush plasters itself upon his pale cheeks. "Plus it reminded me of you."

He tries to mutter it quickly, an afterthought, not meant to be heard. Who cares if it took half the afternoon to find it? That was just proof that he was much better than the other boy!

"Kacchan!" Oh god, it sounded like there were tears coming, happy tears but still tears. "Thank you!"

The green-eyed boy launched himself at the blonde, and they almost went tumbling down the hill, locked in a hug. The blonde pawed at the other boy's arms, "trying" to pull away from the "unwanted" embrace.

"Hey, stop it!" He yelled, scowl still firmly in place even as the blush deepened even further. "I just thought you could use them and not for any other reason! They're supposed to be lucky or whatever, so I just thought maybe it'd help you get lucky and make you actually get a quirk."

The blonde tried once again to quickly explain his actions away, but when the green-eyed boy finally pulled away, it was easy to see that neither of them believed the explanations. The boy's green eyes shone even brighter than before, as bright as the clover now clutched to his chest.

His smile was as bright as his eyes; he practically glowed in the light of the setting sun. "Kacchan's my best friend ever."

"Whatever," the blonde looked away, still scowling, still blushing.

"'Stupid Deku…' I called him like I always did. I'm not sure when it was that I started believing it too. I didn't then, but… Anyway.

"So yeah, maybe some flowers…" As though it was that simple to explain his and Izuku's relationship. And for Katsuki, it was. Even if that would never be true for anyone else. Strangers could never understand after all.

School continued on, and Katsuki continued on as well. He was still both dreading and anticipating the end of term, but perhaps the eagerness was winning over. At least with the end of school for a bit, he wouldn't have to make excuses to go home. He could stay with Inko whenever he wanted. Katsuki doubted his parents would even notice his absence. If they did, they wouldn't care enough to do anything.

Whatever. This wasn't about them.

This week was supposed to be about Izuku. But then again, everything in Katsuki's life seemed to revolve around Izuku these days. He talked to Inko about his plans, and she supported him wholeheartedly. It was nice to want to do something nice, and even better to have someone on his side while he did it.

Inko encouraged him to sleep, to eat, to study. Katsuki was wrapped up in his head, but Inko got him through those ending days of class. When he was more aware of himself, Katsuki would feel bad about how she had to worry about him while she must've also been struggling, but for now, it was good.

On Tuesday night, Katsuki didn't even bother pretending to want to go back to his house, didn't play at saying he should leave. He couldn't not stay.

He could have made up an excuse that he wanted to be closer to the hill to get his present, that he wanted to leave as early as possible in the morning, that it was because he was worried for her. But it didn't matter. Katsuki needed to stay. They both understood that; they needed the comfort of someone else who understood.

So Katsuki stayed on Tuesday night. They talked about inane things: school, summer break, the color of flowers against green, green grass.

It was nice. Like talking in a language no one else understood.

They cried together again and talked about things they remembered, memories they loved. Inko brought out the baby photos, and they had hot cocoa late at night even though it was the middle of July.

And if neither of them mentioned it when they woke up the next morning then that was just another part of that secret language.

Alright, alright, so technically picking wildflowers is illegal, but it's a very hard crime to catch and certainly not one that Katsuki had ever given much thought to. Plus! That was how Izuku always got flowers himself, and it didn't feel right to just buy some, at least not these ones. These were special; these meant something, more than anything else really could right now.

That was how Katsuki spent his Wednesday morning. He didn't go to school even if the final day for the term was Friday. They could have had some big ass test today, and it wouldn't have mattered. Today was Izuku's day, and that was it. If nothing else, at least Katsuki could give him this.

If he could have, Katsuki would have worn the sweatshirt today. But it was July, and the hospital wasn't known for its great AC. Too many layers meant more sweat, and Katsuki could only deal with so much today. So as much as he longed for the comfort the sweatshirt brought, he couldn't bring himself to wear it for fear of corrupting it, of burning it, of destroying it. Like he did with everything else of Izuku's…

So no sweatshirt for comfort, but he had Inko! Inko was beside him the entire time as he walked into the hospital with his god awful bouquet.

It was probably the stupidest and ugliest bouquet that had ever been brought into the hospital before, but if anyone spent him a wondering glance as he entered the facility and made his way to Izuku's room with Inko then he didn't notice.

It was nice to have Inko by his side when he visited; it reminded Katsuki that there were other people who remembered Izuku, other people who cared. People who cared about Katsuki too even if it was just person, not people.

They made their way through the hallway in silence, but Katsuki clutched Inko's hand tightly with one of his as the other clutched the ramshackle bouquet with equal ferocity. It kept him grounded and focused in the present. Sometimes the overbearing scent of sterile cleanliness was too much to bear, but Inko reminded him that he was here, reminded him that here wasn't the worst place he could be.

They paused as they neared the door.

This was it. He would go inside, give the flowers to Izuku, hope and pray and- Hope. That was all he could really do these days. It was like what he would tell Izuku. Just hope that you'll have a quirk, but that had always been a goddamn joke, never feasible. Now Katsuki was the one hoping for something that seemed more and more impossible by the day. Katsuki was a goddamn joke. He was so stupid, and he should just leave! Yeah, Izuku wouldn't want to see him; why would he, and it would be better to leave Inko here, so she could spend time with her son, and Katsuki didn't want to intrude, didn't deserve-

"Katsuki!" The blonde boy jolted out of his own thoughts, looking up to Inko, startled.

Her eyes were shining with tears. Oh god, he'd made her cry again. He was such a fuck up!

"Katsuki," she repeated, gentler this time. "Please stop. You're going to hurt yourself."

She held his hands up, so he could see them. His nails were carving into his palm on one hand and breaking flower stems in the other. Katsuki let out a deep, shaking breath, forcing himself to relax his grip. Crescent moons were carved into his palms, but there was no blood this time. Inko had stopped him before any real harm could occur.

"Breath Katsuki," she instructed, still not releasing his hands.

They stood there for a few moments, just breathing in each other's presence, trying to force a sense of calm neither of them fully felt.

Finally Inko released his hands. "I'm going to go get myself some coffee. I'll try to find a vase too while I'm gone. Take some time on your own to talk. You could use a private conversation with Izuku. Give him the flowers. He'll love them."

"Sound okay with you?" Because she'd never force him even when there wasn't really a choice.

Katsuki nodded, swallowing a bit of bile. "Y-yeah."

"I'll be back soon, but if you're not done when I get back, just say so. Take all the time you need."

The world didn't deserve Midoriya Inko, and Katsuki certainly didn't either.

She didn't leave until after Katsuki had opened the door on his own and walked inside. He looked back one more time to see her give a smile and a nod of encouragement.

Katsuki looked at the still form lit by the sunlight flooding from the uncovered window. He didn't look older, the exact opposite in fact. It was all too easy for Katsuki to look at Izuku's still form and picture a much younger version asleep beside him in the same bed at a sleepover. He was so small, so peaceful, and yet so warm.

Maybe not as bright without the smile or the shining eyes or the bubbling laughter, but warm like the freckles on his cheeks and the sunlight drifting through his hair. If Izuku was just asleep then Katsuki was just content to bask in his presence. Neither of those things were true, but it was nice to pretend sometimes.

Katsuki smiled sadly as he stood awkwardly beside Izuku's still form. "Hi Izuku. Happy birthday, I guess."

Katsuki didn't know what to do with himself. He extended his hand with the bouquet as though someone was there to take it from him. "I-I brought you flowers. I don't have a vase, but your mom's getting something. But I hope you like them or whatever…"

Katsuki had no fucking clue what he was doing. He dropped his hand as he realized his own stupidity, groaning as he collapsed into the chair beside Izuku's bed. He slapped his palm to his forehead and dragged his fingers through his hair.

"What am I doing?" Katsuki groaned again. "I shouldn't have come. I'm such a fucking idiot. I'm sorry. You wouldn't-you don't. Fuck. Fuck."

Katsuki quickly clutched his fingers once more before the flowers could slip from his grasp. He looked back up at Izuku's face once more.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "I promised I'd try to make this a happy time. It's your birthday after all. I should be thinking about what you want, not just about my fucking self.

"So I got you some flowers. I picked 'em myself too. But that's not really legal, so don't tell anyone. Not that you could or would or… shit. I'm bad at this aren't I?" He smiled hesitantly and could almost hear Izuku's reassuring answer that 'No, Kacchan's fine! He's great!'

The smile twinged with melancholy as he remembered those happier times of flower picking. "You always just told me why you chose them so," Katsuki presented the bouquet once more. "I got the red ones because they're like those damn shoes you always wear, and the daisies are pretty plain and common, and I think that's what most people see you as, how I saw you as. And I put in some fucking dandelions, and yes I know they're a fucking weed whatever, because you always said they reminded you of me. As if I'd be a fucking weed! But whatever. The leafy shit is like that bush your call hair, so fucking green."

Katsuki's smile changed again, a secret playing on his lips, that thing strangers wouldn't understand. "And I put in a four leaf clover. Took me ages to find it. You could use all the goddamn luck you can get these days.

"I'm the lucky one though. I'm the lucky one."