Once Again From Better Days

Much to his chagrin, he wakes to the sound of a camera shutter, stifled giggles, and the feeling of being watched. That and—Izuku's warmth against his right side (sticky because of the summer heat), the gentle rise and fall of his c.h.e.s.t underneath his palm, and oh. Shit. That explains the giggling.

Katsuki blinks his eyes open. Kaminari skitters out of the range of his vision, and a blur of red retracts on the left.

"Good morning, Bakugou," Kirishima says warily, despite the smile on his face.

Katsuki blinks again, flinching away from Izuku, and pushes himself into a sitting position. Glaring around, he sees Kaminari sheltering himself behind Kirishima's shoulders, Sero with a blanket pulled over his head, a few others retreating and the rest either feigning unconsciousness or actually sleeping.

"F.u.c.k," Katsuki mutters eloquently. "What are you doing?"

"Er," Kirishima says. "Immortalizing memories?" 

Katsuki remains indecisive for a moment longer, reluctant to disturb Izuku more than necessary and too annoyed with everyone else to sit still. He makes his move, and the peace turns into chaos. Aizawa appears less than 30 seconds later, apparently disturbed by the noise and extremely disgruntled. Even in the summer heat, he has his yellow sleeping bag.

"Since you have so much energy, why don't you burn some of it off while breakfast is being prepared? 25 l.a.p.s around the building."

A chorus of groans. 

Their teacher looks nonplussed, and they start making their way toward the door. "Hurry up," he prompts. "Or class B will eat everything before you make it back. No quirks!" He adds at their retreating backs.

That gets everyone moving. Iida speeds ahead. Katsuki follows a couple of paces behind and catches sight of green hair out of the corner of his eye. Izuku adjusts his speed until they're running side by side.

"Kacchan—" He starts, but Katsuki's gaze snaps forward with a slight shake of his head. He doesn't know what Izuku's goal is, but he does know that whatever it is, the rest of the class doesn't need to hear it (the girls are watching from the front door, now).

They're among the first to finish all the l.a.p.s, ending just after Iida and just ahead of half-and-half who somehow managed to run with his eyes closed. Katsuki still isn't sure if he's actually awake yet, but doesn't care enough to ask. In any case, the dining room is half full when they enter—class B and the six girls of class A are already sitting down. Katsuki takes a seat on the far end of the room where the tables are still mostly empty. Izuku takes the place directly opposite him, glancing up almost nervously.

"What?" Katsuki asks.

Izuku answers with a half-hearted shrug. "It's just—nothing. Doesn't matter." He turns his attention to the bowl of rice in front of him.

Katsuki bites his tongue. He'd be a hypocrite if he tried to pry (he's keeping so many secrets of his own.) It could be something frivolous—just everyday chitchat—or it could be something serious. They have several hours left before nightfall. Could Izuku know? His gaze linger on Izuku's face, grateful that Izuku is focused on breakfast for the moment. Green eyes meet his, and he realizes he's been staring for too long.

Breakfast doesn't last long, and earlier than he would like, Katsuki is forced to follow everyone else outside into the summer sun and commence training. It is a training camp, after all. The students are divided by the nature of their quirks and what they need to work on to get stronger, which means Izuku is led in another direction than he is, separating them for the day.

The heat takes its toll, especially in combination with the consistent use of his quirk. The hours drag on, filled with sweat and the increasing feeling that his arms are about to give up. At the same time, the impending sense of dread makes the minutes move faster. He's caught in a paradox—a day that lasts too long and not long enough. Not able to warn anyone of what might be coming, not able to save his strength to fight. Only able to hope that enough has changed that the villains aren't planning to attack.

Just as he feels his legs starting to shake, his head spin from exhaustion and lack of hydration, his palms ache from the repeated use of his quirk, the day ends. Evening sweeps in with a cool breeze, and a chill down his spine that reminds him what tragedy happened last time.

Someone tells them that they're in charge of making dinner for themselves tonight, but Katsuki is only half listening. His hands automatically chop the vegetables Izuku places in front of him, but his mind wanders. 

"Kacchan."

He wonders if Izuku will run off to save Kouta this time. He wonders if he can go after him without being too conspicuous. Who was part of the villain force? He remembers a mention of Toga and seeing flames—blue flames, but the rest—

"Kacchan!" 

He snaps to, letting go of the knife that Izuku is trying to pull from his grasp. Izuku places it on the table, somewhere out of Katsuki's reach, making any knife-related accidents less likely. There's a crease in the middle of Izuku's forehead.

"I'm fine," Katsuki says, brushing off the question before Izuku manages to ask. "Just tired from training."