𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - what you can't know

May 7, 2XXX

                     ❝𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐧𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡!❞ Izuku chased his words with remarkably quick gulps of crispy golden liquor. He left the mug half way before setting it back on the bar coaster with a thud and whipped his head over to Katsuki. 

The blond was trying to sip at his beer to make sure it didn't spill out onto his new pants—sue him they were cargo khaki and they were expensive—and here Izuku was, pouring out his thoughts and pent up emotions after a weeks long worth of work. They have therapist for these things but no, dump it on him, his best friend. 

As expected during their weekly get together.

"Well shit, this chick must've done somethin' to piss you off if you're complaining to me about her." Katsuki snorted, turning forward in his bar stool to set his elbows on the table. Large beer mug still in hand, held by the handle, he tilted it back to drink slowly.

"What didn't she do," Izuku turned the opposite way with his back to the bar table and let his wandering eyes drift across the patrons that inhabit the crowded bar this friday night. College kids, business men, other lingering heroes, civilians, couples— it was always the same and the swamp of people was more convenient. It meant they were more likely to go unnoticed. 

"She this, she that." Katsuki scoffed. "I don't even know who the fuck your talking about. Did she—whatever her name—screw up the printer or something?" 

"Her name is [L/N]... Uh, [Y/N], I think?" Izuku started, lifting his arms to put his elbows on the table absentmindedly. 

Before he could slip into great detail of his venting, about the what's and everything you have done during the school week to make his life a living hell, Katsuki suddenly forgot how to drink. Between his coughs, he pounded his fist at his chest as an attempt to soothe the alcoholic burn cursating down his throat. 

"What the hell do you mean, [Y/N]?!" 

Izuku turned his head and Katsuki was already looking at him, a frown tugging at his features. "Yeah?... I don't know what is so important about—" 

"Dude, I don't know how you don't remember. You're the biggest nerd lord in the world. We went to school with her, remember? Sure as hell not the same classes but she used to go to UA." He set his beer down. "She hung around everyone all the time either way, I'm sure the girls knew her better—wow, you seriously don't know her." 

"Should I?" Izuku grimaced, twirling himself around on the stool to throw his body at the counter. He dropped his head in his arms and allowed the other well developed senses he worked on in his adolescent years to carry the weight of his tiredness. For now his eyes could rest and he simply let his ears listen. 

"She was only everywhere around the school. I mean, the biggest wallflower I'd ever know but..."  Katsuki chucked and bumped his boot to Izuku's leg. "She was pretty cute back then, heh, is she pretty cute still?" 

"Oh my god—" Izuku jutted his shoes out, kicking Katsuki's leg. "Don't tell me you used to like her?!" 

He was suddenly alert, head up and shoulder back as he stared down his childhood friend who was wandering into dangerous territories.

"If I did, what does that mean? That I indirectly confided with the enemy, or worse, slept with her?" Katsuki asked, his brows high with Izuku's outrageous behavior. He was too amused by all of the questioning to be offended by Izuku's frustration towards the girl he worked with. Worse, you.

He squinted his eyes, "Well, did you?" 

"Fucking hell, I only took her to the dance!" Katsuki was laughing as he reached for his beer. "We were close, dumbass, just never liked that. Shows how much you paid attention since she was the girl I was training with after highschool; to go abroad or whatever." 

Izuku dropped his shoulders the more Katsuki carried on. "But I dropped out of the program when it became too much, moved out too because her-walking-around-naked-ass made it difficult to bring a chick home. Don't really know what happened to [Y/N] after she kept with the program. She must be alright if she is giving you hell." 

Drifting off into thought, Katsuki managed to miss how Izuku had his body turned and was now waiting on his beer to be refilled. Katsuki huffed at the alcoholic's audacity, "You asked asshole! Don't get butthurt because I actually give a damn about her, I don't even know what has you so bent out of shape over  all this." 

A small thank you to the bartender who always flashed a smile that was a little more than necessary to Izuku; he sipped from the foaming beer. "She's telling me what to do all the time as if any of it would've made a difference."

"You mean..."

"She's blaming me. I know she is; about what happened." 

"Izuku." Testing the water. "No one blames you over the kid's death. It wasn't your fault." Katsuki pushed the mug back on the coaster and Katsuki kept his arm empty on the counter. Being sober was better right now when his friend clearly intended not being the latter 

"I do!" Izuku's hand was in his hair. "She does. She's not saying it but I know that's what she is doing. Ordering me around, changing my class and teaching routine, canceling work studies— she's— She's..." 

"A bitch." Katsuki filled in, sighing with a shake of his head. "That sounds like hell but I'm sure she doesn't mean it. You said she was assigned there, right?" 

Izuku nodded, half way threw his glass again and Katsuki convincingly waved his hand as a gesture. "See then, I'm sure she is just her boss's bitch—doing every little thing to suck up to that. Promotional shit, y'know. Of course, that doesn't make it easy on you." 

Another nod and Izuku agreed, "She is... Something. And I can't handle her always being on my ass telling me what to do, I thought it was supposed to only be monitoring—but no, she is drilling me over every little thing. 'Don't teach this' or she is telling me that 'I should move around lessons.'"

Katsuki watched Izuku as the man with the curls went down town on his drink, "Then talk to her. You're good at talking and so is she, take it from someone who fights for a living—that shit gets you nowhere when you toss in miscommunication. All that happens is someone gets hurt without reason or... Well this doesn't apply to your situation but the villain would get away but you understand the fucking point I'm tryin' to make here!" 

Near the end of the glass, Izuku stopped using the tilted glass as an excuse to hide his face from Katsuki. He didn't want to listen. Not when he got the answer he wanted. And that was the worst of it. When you want to complain up and down, the last thing you want is to be told that everyone else sees things in a different light except you because of some boiling over frustration. 

Because of a girl.

Izuku finished off his beer with a chew of his lips so that he could put his weight into the bar table again, "Fine, I guess she is a little bit cute." 

"Fucking lightweight."

Izuku lifted only his head and tilted it away from Katsuki to signal down the bartender, "Couldn't I get a shot of—" 

RING RING RING.

Your forehead smacked the kitchen island after your chin slipped out of your grasp.

It was the sudden abruptness that woke you up. Loud, vibrating music flaring all around you from your cell phone tucked deep into the back of your pocket. You reached for it while massaging the front of your head and frowned when seeing the unfamiliar number.

Awfully soon for hawks to be calling me. You considered. Hardly did anyone have this new phone number, if so, you programmed them already into your contacts. Except Hawks, while he had one permanent line because of the commission, on missions his mode of communications was ten thousand different types of burner numbers. 

RING RING RING—

You answered. 

"Holy hell— what if I was taking a shit, huh? Want me to answer you when I was on the shitter too, huh?" You yelled. 

A low hum sounded through the line. "Well, probably not but if you were in the bath, I might say differently." Katsuki said, an unfamiliar calm coaxing his smooth voice. 

Wait— Katsuki? 

"Katsuki, is that you? You, asshole! What the hell are you doin' calling me." 

"Am I not allowed to check on an old friend?"

You threw yourself at your beer bottle covered the counter, with a groan, turning the phone on speaker mode so you wouldn't have to hold it up with your tired arms. "Almost five years and we're friends now. Finally got over the dance?" 

"Eh, history." 

"You're a horrible liar."

The pause between the both of you was enough time for you to evaluate where it was you were. In your apartment of course, but it felt like the studio was on clouds and you had only your first spent paycheck to blame for that. Nothing but cans, bottles, and a cigarette pack, littered the counter. Alcohol all dranken down to the last drop. 

Who could complain though, your rent got paid.

"—rd  you've been givin' Izuku a hard time with his class, at UA." Katsuki broke the silence. 

Piecing together the words you missed, you rubbed your mascara covered eyes. "He told 'n me? That jerk, I'm just doin' my job. It ain't my fault his classroom needs s'much sorting out." You slurred. 

"[Y/N]." Katsuki addressed in a clear and questioning manner. 

"What?" You huffed, tapping your finger along the rim of bottles to hopefully  find any of them still full. 

"Does he know?" You hated how he paused. "About Okada being your brother?" 

That's what this is about, friendship my ass. "He doesn't." 

"Hm... You're working then?" 

You got your hands on a bottle, half full with that liqour that made your tougue water. "Well of course I'm workin', Hawks always got meh workin'. That why 'm stationed at UA to monitor Midori's class—"

"That's not what I mean, sweetheart. And you know it too, it was miracle work. I got Izuku convinced that your Hawks lap dog—which you are—but we both know you don't take on anything casual like this. Essentially because of your brother." Katsuki interjected and you scoffed at his statements, even if you were tilting back your beer because you couldn't protest. Maybe in a more sober state you would've.  

You lived and breathed working for the commission. Katsuki couldn't handle work like that. He was willing to be devoted but he never matched your level of determination to the program you both joined with each other. 

You would give your life to the commission.  

Katsuki would give his life to being a hero. 

There was a difference, a large one, and it simultaneously created a divergence between you two many years ago. Katsuki called it history, covering it up with the simple reference to a dance that meant nothing—when it was really the take of a hand you denied time and time again. Always afraid of the fame and popularity you could've had; Katsuki would've walked with you, he tried to follow you into the program but you both had differences for reasons. 

"I can't keep nothing from gettin' past you, huh?" You chuckled, pressing the luke-warm bottle to your forehead. 

"Eh, that was the only part of the program I could hold up against, you actually had the balls to put yourself through the rest of the brute work—you undercover psychopath." You both were laughing now and it felt comfortable. Maybe it was the alcohol but with Katsuki's voice echoing into the apartment, it felt like he was in the studio. You could almost imagine your old friend there—in your mess of a place, ready to kick your ass about over drinking and not picking up after yourself. 

"—ou, that's what I mean. [Y/N], are ya' sleeping? Oi, why aren't you answering?!" 

"Sorry, I uh... Zoned out. Just looking for another beer." 

"Fuck sake, I can only deal with one alcoholic tonight." 

"You called." 

He sighed. One of those long, tired ones that were laced with thought. "I did. Guess, I just needed to make sure you were doing fine, everything else aside. I was at the funeral too, but I couldn't find you." 

"I left early." You stood up from where you were sitting and rounded the kitchen counter, grabbing a few empty bottles at once to dump them into your trash can tucked inside you cupboard you kicked open with your foot. 

"I figured that much. There were a lot of people there for your brother. His friends, heroes. Gotta say, the kid was loved." Katsuki was watching his words. "Didn't know him too well, but he did try to intern at my agency. He always said he was your sister and that I was the only hero you actually cared for and all that... I don't regret not hiring him since I don't take interns but, I wouldn't have minded training him." 

"I wouldn't have minded either," You said. It might've been your voice that caused Katsuki to whisper the soft 'kid' on the other end but you tried to ignore it. 

"Look, I know you want to get back to your drinking, I won't keep you any longer than I have already. But keep in touch, last time I asked that of you, it was radio silence for five years and the glimpse that I got any indication you're alive was when I find ten yakuza members dead at my doorstep the same time your brother passes away... Do I need to keep stealing your number out of your drunk idiot coworker's phone all the time?" 

You laugh, opening the fridge to tear apart canned beer out of a seal. You walked back and popped the tab. "No, you shouldn't. But I'm busy, as you know, so I'll do my best. Promise!" 

"Fine... Where ya' staying anyway in case I choose to drop by?" 

A few good gulps, you grabbed the phone and switched Katsuki off the speaker mode. That way you could hold the phone up to your ear when leaning forward over the counter with your back leaning far down. "You know how I am, always gotta live some place new. I got myself one of those fancy ass penthouses we use to talk 'bout gettin'. Rent is hell." 

"Oh now I definitely want to stop by. If you're drinking and got to get a nice place, it means you got some top shelf whiskey, huh?" 

You crushed the can, using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. It smeared your lipstick, "Without a doubt." 

Katsuki hummed, "You're full of shit, sweetheart." 

"You miss it." 

You don't miss him, you tried to tell yourself. You don't miss his smugness that would get you through the shyness of UA, that pulled you along when you hid behind him, or just the banter that built up a relationship like none other. 

God, you missed him. 

"See you around, Mars. Need anything, seriously, anything, don't be a stranger." Katsuki hung up. 

Letting your head drop to rest on the cool countertop, you let out a groan. Damn that teacher for snitching on you. If he never let your name slip from his mouth, you wouldn't have Katsuki Bakugo of all people calling you this late at night. It was too many memories you needed at once. While you trusted the blond to not volunteer any of your information, you didn't trust Midoriya to not eventually start asking questions. 

You would, in his position. But hey, maybe you were lucky enough and he wouldn't remember coming Monday if he's as much of a drunk that Katsuki claims he is. 

May 10, 2XXX - Monday

"How do you know Kachan?" Midoriya asked, early before classes when you were writing his notes on the chalkboard for him. It was silence prior to the question, so the bluntness of his tone caught you off guard. 

You halted your writing and turned to look at him over your shoulder. "Who?" 

He was frowning. He always frowned around you and it didn't suit his freckled face. "Bakugo—" He rephrased. "Bakugo Katsuki?" 

You hummed and looked away, your hair flared and returned to the resting position it was in. Midoriya saw every movement, behind you, leaning against the desk, staring at your pink blazer that matched your pin-stripe pencil skirt. Your shirt was atoned with ruffled lace across the v-neck and a simple light pink satin top that the blazer covered the thin straps. "We're friends." 

He shuffled. "Like, old friends that dated? Or..." 

"We never dated, not seriously." You stated. A long line was drawn out across a sentence you wrote out in kanji but that wasn't what made Midoriya breathing catch in his throat, it was your sharp right

Turn on your platform, hot pink pumps that put you taller than him by just the slightest. "Not that it should bother you, Mr. Midoriya." 

Arms crossed over his chest, Midoriya fought the urge to loosen his suffocating tie and instead reached his scarred hand up to scratch the back of his neck. His other hand reached down, grasping firmly at the desk. "It doesn't, I'm just trying to figure out what Kachan saw in you." 

"Excuse me?" 

"You're pretty, [L/N], don't get me wrong, but that doesn't mean you get away with anything. I know you're still out to nail me for any screw up." You hugged the papers you were holding to your chest and turned away, "—Don't act like that, Miss. [L/N], you know you're not trying to be my friend, we're hardly coworkers, if that's what you wanted from this, you wouldn't be trying to walk all over my teaching every single damn day." 

"Well if there wasn't so much for me to fix then I wouldn't have to pick up after you!" You without warning expressed yourself. 

You took it as being provoked but maybe you just needed a reason, the tiniest push that could send you tumbling over the edge and forget any ounce of training to calm your emotions. "You're a mess. Your classroom is a goddamn mess. It's no wonder a student is dead because you have no sense of control or order and you know how I walk all over you, Mr. Midoriya—the push over you are?" 

You walked up to him and he craned his neck up to look at you, only an inch—maybe two—between your faces. A moment of staring with heavy tension mixed with filled contemplation for words passed and you used it to glance between each big, green eye. His were round, traced along the top and bottom with a pair of fluttery lashes. Then downwards, taking your time to drag your vision down his cheek scar. 

He is beautiful and a frown, laced with anger only tainted and creased at his perfection.

"Its because you let everyone walk all over you, before me it was your student's, before them I'm sure it was heroes, or your friends." You said. 

He worked his jaw. After a few seconds, "I'm sorry you feel that way." 

You stared. And He stared. Until it because to much that you stormed out, letting the door slam behind you. 

"Can you believe him!" You huffed. "Getting on my case.... Like I'm not doing enough already. Like I'm not teaching the morning art classes and trying to be his aid—or the damn hallway monitor—whatever you want to call this bullshit job!" 

You slapped the large paint brush against the wet canvas and tilted your head to the side of you, looking over at the palm sized rock-statue you were waiting for a response from who was positioned on it's own stool. 

Your quirk. 

With a small body, tiny arms, tiny legs, that are each literal smooth rocks, it seemed like its head out weighed its body by the way it was wider at the top and narrowed at the chin. Only source of a "face" it had was dark, soulless, hole—indentation(if that's what you wanted to call it). Two eyes and a long vertical mouth. 

It shrugged. 

"Ughh." You turned back towards the canvas. It was propped up straight on an  easel and right now you were only covering large surfaces in thin oil paint, pushing a wash across the canvas to set the base tone of the painting. It was blue. 

Everything lately has been blue. 

So much for painting you whipped your neck at the rock statue. "What's the point in keeping you stationed in Midoriya's classroom if you got nothing to agree on or can't find any dirt on him. You realize it will be both our asses if I can't figure out what the hell is going on here before midterms!" You hissed.

The clump of put together rocks cowarded slightly, its soulless expression never wavering but its movement said enough. 

Great. I'm yelling at my rock pet. "Fucking hell." You whispered as you set the brush on the table—littered with various other types of brushes and paint tube's alike—and shifted back to your turned away rock-quirk-pet. "Hey buddy. I didn't mean that, you do so much work for me. I wouldn't get anywhere half the time if it weren't for you guys." 

You reached a hand out to the stool the rock statue was standing on and brushed the side of your index finger against its grainy skin. It turned you away. "Don't be like that, I'm sorry. I'm just really mad and I don't mean to direct my anger at you, I shouldn't have. Midoriya is just a real pain in the ass and this mission... Or, everything included has me forgetting what matters lately." 

It was staring off into the distance to keep itself turned away from you, giving you the cold shoulder. That's when suddenly it hopped off the stool, landing with the tiniest thud on the art room floor, and waddled its way towards the window. You only watched as it leaped with its full rock-body weight, arms flaring back, and threw itself onto tables and ledges until it was eventually on the window seal that peered out onto the campus courtyard. 

It's back now to you. I forget how sensitive they can be but damn, I didn't think I messed up this bad. 

The rock statue rotated its head completely that way it looked back at you and it was the most sudden movement, you had to catch yourself in your stool to not go falling backwards into the canvas. It knocks its arm against the window seal in rhythmic movements, tap tap tap pause tap pause tap tap tap—

You ran over towards your rock pet and caught yourself against the window. The curtains had been tied open as you liked the natural lighting but right now, from the high view as your whole body was sprawled against the plains—you saw him. 

Izuku Midoriya.

Sitting on the higher end of the bleachers with his bento box in his lap in a coat to ward of the outside chill. Littered around him were notebooks, as across from him in the distance were his students, training off on their own or participating in their extra classes, even sports that UA now offered. He was just... Watching. Taking in everything he saw. 

"Son of a bitch," You laughed and your rock pet knocked against the wood as a minor jab towards you. LANGUAGE.

"Yeah, yeah. I know... Just let me get a better look—" You undid the locks of the windows and pushed it upwards. It held itself in place. 

Midoriya set his bento to the side of him and would write down occasionally, chewing away at his homemade food, and keep writing so swiftly. You on the hand, hung half way out the window to stalk him. elbows on the seal, just watching with satisfaction that you got a step some where after a week of being here. 

He turned his head. 

A squint of his eyes and a grimace, Midoriya bear witness to the sun peeking over the school and you dropped yourself to the ground—actually your hands slipped from the window seal and if you didn't throw yourself at the floor, you would've been hurling yourself out the window.

Breathing incredibly deep, your rock pet tapped your forehead. You blinked at it. "Think he saw me?"

It nodded. 

You hit your head against the floor. "Fuck." 

A/N: Soooooo.... that's that. thoughts, opinions. good bye.