Once Again From Better Days

The days between the end of term and the beginning of camp should, in theory, be for rest. But even with the lack of impending homework deadlines and villain attacks, Katsuki can't find it in himself to relax entirely. 

His eyes are always searching for warning signs, his ears always tuned for sounds of struggle, and then it occurs to him–he's slipping back into a battlefield mindset. 

The world around them has yet to fall to chaos. Izuku has yet to cause irreparable damage to himself. And the death toll is still 0. Katsuki wants to believe it'll last, but he doesn't dare hope. 

His anxieties are worsened by the fact that Izuku disappears to go train or visit his mentors or something every day. Katsuki splits his time between keeping active and making a cursory effort to start on the summer homework. As he reads the same line in their math textbook for the fifth time in a row, he decides he's had enough. The break is supposed to be relaxing, but Katsuki can't seem to shake the tension from his system.

After another couple of days have passed, Izuku shows up at the front door. "Kacchan, come with me for a bit," he says. 

It's the first morning he hasn't run off.

Katsuki raises his eyebrows, curiosity and apprehension rising in his c.h.e.s.t. "Why?"

"Just–I want to show you something," Izuku says.

When he leaves, Katsuki follows. 

They walk through the familiar streets of their neighborhood for a while, before turning down streets he doesn't recognize. They pass by several groups of children and some students closer to their own age, all enjoying the summer freedom. The air feels peaceful, and a gentle breeze alleviates some of the heat, enough to make the walk pleasant. But at the same time, Katsuki wonders where they're going, and his sense of curiosity (and impatience) grows.

They come to a park filled with bright green trees, the branches so laden with leaves that the sky isn't visible. The path narrows from the sidewalk, and Izuku still continues forward. Katsuki is about to stop him and ask what the hell they're doing when the trees open up to reveal a beach. The sand is dotted by brightly colored towels and an assortment of beach-goers. As they stand paused, another couple more people come from behind carrying a beach umbrella and a couple of pool noodles.

"Is this what you wanted to show me?" Katsuki asks apprehensively. It is a nice beach, but it is still just a beach.

"Um," Izuku says. "Well, yeah, sort of."

Katsuki glares at him.

"Before UA, while I was training, All Might made me clean this place up."

Vaguely, he remembers a newspaper article about how the beach was one day discovered to be miraculously free of junk. "Okay, and?" 

"And I thought we could train." He glances around at the crowds. "It's busier than I thought it would be. There's a place that should still be quieter though."

They continue down the path and onto the sand winding between groups of people. The crowds thin out as they continue and, after circ.u.mventing an outcropping of rock, disappear entirely. The only sound comes from the waves hitting the shore. 

"Let's spar, then," Katsuki says.

"No quirks?"

"No quirks." He affirms. They are outside of school, and training regular hand-to-hand is important too.

Katsuki sinks into position. The sand is soft under his feet which makes each step take double the effort it usually would. Within minutes, they're both out of breath and covered in sweat. Izuku sits first, dropping to the sand with a huff. Katsuki joins him after a moment's thought.

"If I used my quirk now, I wonder how big the explosion would be."

Izuku eyes him warily. "Let's not find out."

It's not like he was going to blow up the landscape just for the hell of it. There are regulations about quirk use especially where destruction of property is involved. Katsuki clicks his tongue in annoyance. "Maybe I'll blow you up instead," he says reaching a hand lazily in Izuku's direction.

Izuku laughs as he leans out of the way. He's not quite fast enough, though, and Katsuki reaches the ticklish spot on his side. Izuku squeals. And then they're sparring again, but this time it's less about fighting and more about tickling, which is almost as taxing. He ends up with a knee on Izuku's c.h.e.s.t to hold him down, but Izuku has both of his wrists, so they're stuck at an impasse.

Izuku's hair is spread over the sand and a bead of sweat sparkles on his forehead. His cheeks are pink from exertion. Katsuki fights the urge to do something stupid. 

Like tell him he looks beautiful. 

Or lean down and kiss him.

"Kacchan?" Izuku's voice disrupts his thoughts, and he blinks. They both sit up, and Izuku's brow is furrowed in confusion.

"Kacchan, I al–"

Katsuki freezes as the echo of a memory hits him. And a voice in his head starts screaming. And a phantom pain washes through his body. 

"Let's go," he says abruptly.

And Izuku doesn't ask. Not out loud, anyway. Because Izuku can be pushy about some things, but not about–not about this. Sometimes Katsuki wonders why, but it's not like he can ask without drawing attention to a million things he doesn't want to draw attention to. 

Katsuki can feel the cloud of confusion next to him as they make their way back across the beach. Even with the sun at its highest point in the sky shining down with full force, Katsuki feels a chill in his bones. The memory of Izuku's last words to him rings in his ears. I always –what? Does he even deserve to know the feelings of the Izuku he couldn't save.

Katsuki is so caught up in his thoughts that he arrives at his front door and doesn't remember anything about the walk home. Izuku leaves him with a soft goodbye .

In the morning, he has a text from Izuku that Shinsou will be the person joining their camp to fill out their numbers. Another text follows telling him to pack. Katsuki drops his phone on his bed glad that Izuku is choosing to ignore–whatever happened the day before.