Once Again From Better Days

Sleeping in one bed is difficult, both because they've grown significantly since they were kids, but mostly because every part of him feels like he's too close and too far from Izuku at the same time. It doesn't take long to figure out that lying side-by-side doesn't work. He gets an elbow in his stomach at least once as they try to settle in a way that isn't painful or awkward. They come to a silent agreement that back-to-back is the best solution.

Katsuki wonders if Izuku can feel his heartbeat. To him, the beats are thunderous. He clutches one hand to his c.h.e.s.t, pulling at the fabric of the shirt he's wearing–his or Izuku's, he isn't sure which (whatever Izuku threw at him). Every cell in his body is too aware of Izuku's warmth. Katsuki lies awake with too many thoughts swimming around his head.

Before too long, Izuku's breath slow, and the tense arch of his shoulder relaxes against the back of Katsuki's ribcage. His own breath starts to slow to match. Even though his heartbeat feels faster than normal, he is tired from the day. His eyelids flutter shut and his racing thoughts slowly turn into dreams.

He opens his eyes to a dark room. With the pale moonlight shining in from the window, he knows it's not morning yet. There is no obvious cause for his waking. The night seems peaceful, and his dreams were untroubled for once. He's only left wondering for a moment. Izuku jerks in his sleep, hitting his shoulder. It happens again, harder this time. 

Katsuki pushes himself into a sitting position, legs swinging over the edge of the bed. He catches Izuku's wrist before he gets hit again. 

Izuku's distress grows with every passing moment, and he begins to thrash, a groan of pain escaping his lips. There isn't much light in the room, but it's enough to see the troubled expression on Izuku's face and the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Katsuki bites his lip, catching Izuku's other wrist as it comes swinging toward him.

"Oi, wake up, shithead," he says.

Izuku's face twitches, but his eyes are still firmly closed. He's no closer to waking than he was before. Katsuki notices that Izuku is muttering something indistinct. The individual words are jumbled, and Katsuki can't decipher any actual meaning in them, but his voice is unmistakably agitated. Katsuki opens his mouth to try to speak Izuku into wakefulness, but before he can say anything, he catches one of the words spilling from Izuku's mouth.

Eri-chan.

A shiver runs through him. He knows that name, but not from this lifetime. Gravity leaves him behind for a moment as memories ring in his ears. Katsuki clenches tighter around Izuku's wrists.

Eri-chan.

Her name is clearer this time.

He remembers a young girl, timid in a way and with a look in her eyes that says she's haunted by pain. Another person that Izuku saved. Another fight he came away with bearing more scars. A kind of panic settles in his stomach. If Izuku knows that name–consciously or subconsciously, then–

Izuku cries out in his sleep, and Katsuki's brain refocuses.

"Wake up, hey–" Katsuki resists as he thrashes again. "Hey, Izuku–"

Green eyes snap open, and Izuku wakes with a start.

"Wha–Kacchan?" 

Sweat slides down his forehead, but his skin is cold to the touch. Katsuki lets go of Izuku's wrists and puts his hands down. He feels the bed shift as Izuku sits up next to him.

"Was I having a nightmare?" Izuku asks quietly, sounding vaguely out of breath.

"You don't know what you were dreaming about?"

He shakes his head. "No."

He doesn't know, then. Not consciously. Not yet. Or not at all. It could just be a coincidence, but that would be one hell of a coincidence.

"Sorry, I woke you up," Izuku says.

"You had a nightmare. That's why you wanted me here, isn't it?"

Izuku punches his shoulder lightly, but doesn't deny it. 

"We should go back to sleep," he says, adjusting his pillow to a more comfortable position.

This time, he turns towards Katsuki when he lies down and closes his eyes almost instantly, which effectively cuts off the conversation. Katsuki stares down at him for a couple of seconds. He could face Izuku or turn away. He debates which is best for his sanity (moving to the floor, probably), before he settles for toward. He places one hand on the pillow between them to keep him from rolling forward, and he tries to close his eyes. 

A moment later he feels movement and opens one eye to see Izuku mirror him. The backs of their hands are pressed against each other. He remembers the nights when they were younger. The bed felt bigger then, and he didn't have any qualms about grabbing Izuku's hand then. As feels Izuku's hand shift slightly he wonders if it's an accident or an invitation–if it's just for reassurance. In the end, he decides not to risk it.

He wakes to Izuku shaking his shoulder and sunlight shining in through the gap between the curtain and the window. It takes him a moment to orient himself, to remember Eri-chan and to remember that their internship starts in less than two hours, according to the clock on Izuku's desk. 

They don't talk much as they get ready. And before Katsuki has much time to dwell on what Izuku does and doesn't remember, they have to leave. On their way to Nighteye's office, they take a detour to UA to take their hero costumes. By the time they reach Nighteye's door, Togata is already standing in his hero costume waiting for them along with Nighteye and Bubble Girl. The gold "1 000 000 000" emblazoned across his c.h.e.s.t glints as he moves to greet them.

"We're on surveillance today," he tells them.

"Surveillance…?"

Nighteye rests his elbows on his desk and steeples his fingers. "We at the Nighteye Agency are conducting a secret investigation of an organization called 'The Eight Precepts of Death.'"