Katsuki regretted how he treated Deku when they were kids.

The guilt had started building up well into their first year and had never left since. It haunted him, trailed after him like helpless sheep, rewarding him with a sharp prod in the stomach if he ever glanced at Deku.

Katsuki had finally choked down enough pride to properly apologise in their second year. It'd become too much by then, once a sharp prod had become an agonizing punch, socking him in the stomach if he dared to even think about Deku.

So he apologised. It was a pathetic affair, with no shortage of tears and shouts, but it happened and Deku accepted and, really, that was all Katsuki wanted.

3-A had found out purely by accident. It'd been a slip of the tongue to Shitty-Hair, overheard by Robot Cop and quickly spread to the whole class. Katsuki had a miserable two weeks afterwards, the entire class had all but given him the cold shoulder.

Eventually, though, with Deku's prodding, they did all forgive him. Some, with only brief hesitation, others, quite grudgingly, but by the time Katsuki graduated he was in, more or less, decent terms with everyone in the class.

Had Katsuki expected it to bite him in the back at some point? Yes, vaguely. Pinky's incessant babbling about 'cancel culture' and whatnot had given him some clue about could happen.

Did he care at the time? No, not really, if the truth ever actually out to the media, he'd always figured he'd just ignore it, maybe get himself wasted for a week while all the other extras caused a fuss.

He supposed that years of living with the guilt had desensitised the situation to him, made it less of an unforgivable sin and more of a burden that he would have to carry with him for the rest of his life. But not even Mina, the supposed social media expert, had predicted the sheer outrage it caused.

Because here Katsuki was, four years after some shitty classmates from middle school ran their mouths, standing in front of the shabby house - cramped, and barely glazed with a coat of washed-out paint - he called home, still feeling the repercussions of a single sentence.

Smeared in red across the door were the words VILLAIN. Inscribed neatly underneath was JUST TAKE A SWAN DIVE OFF THE FUCKING ROOF.

Beneath that was a poorly drawn picture of a building that a stick figure was flinging themselves off.

The gauntlets it wore faintly resembled his own.

Katsuki slammed the door open, shutting with a vicious yank that prompted a slight shudder.

He stomped his way into his bedroom - a glorified closet, really, any more than two people in there at once would be a tight fit - and flung himself onto the bed, only floundering briefly to rip off his bracers - carefully, the Hero Association won't pay for new ones.

Katsuki let out soft exhale and shuffled underneath his ratty covers.

Sleep. That was what he needed after a day of heroing and training.

His precious soon-to-be sleep was interrupted by the short, blaring sound of his notification ringtone.

Katsuki cursed under his breath, rifling through his costume for the cracked masterpiece that was his phone. Scrolling past the dozens of unread messages Deku had sent him, he found his thumb resting on a notification from the Hero Billboard Chart.

{Congratulations, Ground Zero, you've moved up from Rank 587 to Rank 580!}

He clenched his phone rigidly in his palm, fighting the urge to throw it across the room.

[I'm going to be Number One!]

[Sensei, do you think I should quit?]

[I'll be better than All Might!]

[It's no use. I'll never make it into the Top 500, let alone Number One]

.

.

.

.

[Do I even deserve to be a hero?]

Carefully, he slid the phone back into his costume, hugging his now trembling hand to his chest.

Katsuki choked out a laugh. It was bitter, sour, hacking its way out of his throat like a ball of vomit.

Fuck.

Another followed, and another, and another, until he was convulsing on his bed in strangled laughter.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck

Back when those words had first started flashing across headlines, he'd never thought he'd start believing them.

'Perhaps he doesn't…'

'He sure as fuck shouldn't…'

'I don't think he…'

'...deserves to be a hero.'