There was a cough. Then another. And more and more, gravely and scratchy and painful-sounding, until there was, fluttering to the ground, a single damp rose petal.

But it was not Katsuki's.

~

Katsuki blinked a few times. For several moments, that was the only thing he could do, his brain was too occupied with thoughts of 'What The Fuck' to do much else.

The sound of labored breathing filled the room – Kirishima's breaths, heavy and coarse. His shoulders shuddered with every inhale and exhale, hand clenched desperately at his chest as if hoping to relieve the discomfort, the pain. As time passed, slowly, Kirishima's breathing evened out to a more manageable pant. He reached up to wipe away the strand of saliva that had been dripping from his mouth.

Kirishima stared down wide-eyed at the petal that lay in his lap.

After a beat, he cleared his throat. "O-kaay...?"

The sound of his voice snapped everything back into focus. The 'What the Fuck's that had been circling around in his head diminished, but were quickly replaced by a new thought – 'No one told me this shit was contagious'.

Kirishima's eyebrows knitted together. The longer he studied the petal – poking at it, lifting it to eye-level, examining it – the more uneasy his expression became.

"What in the world...?" he muttered.

Curiously, he held the petal up to the light, like a cashier testing a bill for authenticity. Then he dropped it, as if spooked. As if reality was finally setting in, as if panic was finally setting in.

"I-I don't..." He stumbled, the words catching in the back of his throat. "This is... I've never... I'm sorry but what the hell is this?"

"Hanahaki," Katsuki stated dumbly. His mouth was dry. "Hanahaki Disorder. It's... rare," he added, because yeah, it was rare, so this shouldn't be possible.

Kirishima lifted his head, doe-eyed. "Flower... spit-up?" A tense sort-of laugh escaped between his lips. "Well, they certainly call it what it is. But, what's...?" he trailed off, an edge of panic creeping into his voice once again. "I-I still don't understand."

It wasn't like Katsuki did, either. No one did. Even so, Kirishima deserved as good an explanation as Katsuki could offer. But the shock was still fogging up his head. This illness that had plagued him, rendering him useless for weeks... How could he even begin to explain something like that?

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

"Come on Bakugou, you're making me nervous." Kirishima scratched the back of his neck. "You know what this is, right?"

He certainly did know what it was, it had been his own personal hell for the past month. He knew it all too well. And he knew this shit wasn't contagious. Which meant...

Katsuki blinked. "Do you love me?"

Kirishima's cheeks went pale.

"W... What??" he squeaked.

With a palm pressed against his floor, Katsuki turned onto a knee, facing Kirishima head-on. "Kirishima..."

He let out a little amused huff, because the fog was finally clearing from his mind and everything was starting to fall into place and it was ridiculous. It didn't make sense, it was too good to be true, and yet, the crimson petal spelled it out in bold. And, maybe he was being too confrontational. Maybe he was being a little unfair. But he had to know for sure.

"Do you love me?"

In an instant, the world around them froze, like it was holding its breath alongside them. A journey crossed Kirishima's face. First were his wide eyes, reluctant, disbelieving. Then was his gaze retreating, hazy and unfocused, as if searching within himself for an answer that he wasn't even sure was there. Then at last, his eyes met once again with Katsuki's.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, I do."

Something within Katsuki's chest began to unfurl, and he wanted to shout, or laugh, or cry, or everything all at once because finally. But he couldn't let himself feel relief. Not yet. Not when Kirishima was turning away, embarrassed, unable to meet his gaze. Not when Kirishima still didn't realize just how much he meant to Katsuki.

No, there was something he needed to do first.

As if in a trance, he reached out, slowly, until his palm covered the hand that lay in Kirishima's lap. He gave a reassuring squeeze. Kirishima sat, captivated by where their hands met. Gently, he opened his fist, watching as their fingers intertwined.

"Oi," Katsuki spoke.

Kirishima peered up to him, scared and confused and hopeful, and Katsuki's heart surged. He could feel the corners of his mouth upturn, just the littlest bit, could feel the way his eyes softened.

Finally, he could admit what he should have admitted to himself ages ago. Finally, he could accept it fully and without reservation. Finally, finally, he could say it, out loud, to the one person in the word who deserved to hear it most.

"I love you too, Kirishima Eijirou."

Kirishima's breath hitched. His hand clamped down painfully on Katsuki's fingers. In an instant, he was gasping again, his whole body shaking.

Katsuki's eyes flew shut as a wave of familiar sensations washed over him. It must have been what Kirishima was feeling too, but for the first time. There was writhing around in his chest as the vines twisted around, the pressure building and building and Katsuki braced himself for what he knew was soon to follow.

But instead of the scent of roses, instead the hacking and coughing that he had come to expect, there was... nothing. All at once, it just stopped.

There was no way it was as easy as that. No way.

"What—" Kirishima wheezed out through his shuddering breaths, "—What was that?"

There had to be something else going on. There was no way the petals were done just like that, and yet... He took a deep breath. And, he could breathe. As if he hadn't even realized how little he could breathe before. He inhaled deeply again. Exhale. And again. And again, relishing in the unobstructed feeling.

Finally, his voice came to him. "I think, that was you being cured."

"Cured?" Kirishima looked up to him. "How?"

The only words that came to mind were ones that his doctor had uttered. Slowly, Katsuki repeated them, verbatim: "A person who is susceptible to developing Hanahaki Disorder is someone who experiences a deep love that is unrequited."

"That's a thing?" Kirishima's eyes widened. He continued slowly, carefully. "And because I... felt that way, about you, then I...?" He looked down at where their hands were still joined. Then, he looked over to the petal in his lap. "How the heck does that even work?"

Katsuki shrugged. Hell if he knew.

Kirishima glanced up, making eye contact with Katsuki once more before quickly averting his eyes. "Sorry, sorry," he swatted his free hand in front of his face frantically, as if that would distract Katsuki from his crimson cheeks. "This is just a lot to take in, how do you even know about all of this anyways?"

Since it was mutual, it shouldn't have felt as embarrassing as it did. Katsuki knew that. And he didn't want Kirishima to see his reaction and think that it was something he should be ashamed about, either.

But, he had been holding on to this secret for so long. Even before he accepted the nature of his feelings. For that reason, admitting his condition left him feeling vulnerable in a way that his love confession hadn't. It was fucking stupid, and it didn't make sense. But even still, it was his secret. Letting it go was not easy. But that didn't matter. Kirishima deserved to know.

Katsuki closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. "Because, I think I was just cured, too."

The air stilled, weighing heavily down on him. He could hear his heart beat against his eardrums.

"Bakugou," Kirishima finally muttered, his voice warm. "You mean...?"

His body was frozen, unable to respond.

Kirishima seemed to understand. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Everyone knew something was wrong. But we didn't want to talk about it behind your back, so we tried ignoring it. But it was difficult, I was so worried. But, all that time when you weren't acting like yourself... When you had to sit out for training. And when you fell. And, being sent home. This was why?"

Katsuki nodded.

"Because of how you feel about me."

"A lot of it was the shitty medicine's fault," Katsuki explained, because Kirishima was exactly the type of person who would try to blame himself over something like this. "It fucked with my balance and shit. Here." He held out the tissue box.

As if still in a daze, Kirishima cleaned himself up and tossed the tissues away.

"But you... You love me." It was like Kirishima was stuck on it. Like he couldn't wrap his head around it no matter how hard he tried.

Katsuki closed his eyes. Nodded.

The air around them teetered on the edge of what was sure to be a suffocating silence. But before it could settle, Kirishima barked out a laugh. "Oh man. Oh man, I thought you hated me."

"What?" Katsuki's eyelids snapped open. Of all the reactions he'd been expecting, that had not been one of them. "You kidding? Why the fuck would I hate you?"

"I mean, I knew we were friends, it's just..." Kirishima shrugged. "Well, you know, with what happened last week when we were sparring. It was so good to see you back in your element, you were so happy like that, and it made me happy too, and I guess I just got a little wound up. But when I went to kiss you, you pushed me away, so I... I mean I just assumed—"

"You..." In an instant, Katsuki's jaw dropped. "You fucking what?"

Kirishima blinked. "That's... why you pushed me away, right? Because you didn't want to—"

"—I pushed you away because I needed to spit up rose petals into a fucking toilet. Not because I didn't want..." Katsuki snapped his mouth shut. He flushed deep red. What followed was a nearly-unintelligible mumble. "Guess we really were on the same fuckin' page."

"Oh my god. Oh my god, I had no idea. I thought I had read the atmosphere wrong. And when Mr. Aizawa told us that you were transferring to Class 1B, I thought you wanted to get away from me. That sparring had been the last straw, and you saw me as a distraction. Or a nuisance. I knew I just couldn't let it happen without setting the records straight."

"That's why you're here?"

"Yeah." Kirishima's smile was warm, a little sheepish. "I was so scared that my dumb feelings had finally messed up our friendship, and it made me feel sick. Seriously, dude. I've been in love with you for months. And I didn't know what to do about it."

And Katsuki didn't quite know how to take this information. He averted his eyes, hoping to god that he didn't look bashful or some shit. "... Really?"

Kirishima squeezed his hand. "Really really."

And maybe it was just now setting in, that this was happening. And fuck, it was a lot to take in, and he still didn't understand it. But that didn't stop it from being real. Katsuki looked to where their hands met. The breath he let out was wobbly.

Kirishima watched him, concerned. "Bakugou...?"

"Fuck, it's so stupid," Katsuki groaned. "It's just, this has been ripping me apart, for so fucking long..."

"Hey, it's okay," Kirishima's voice rooted him, calmed him. "It's over now."

Katsuki nodded.

"I love you so much, Katsuki," he continued. "So much, you have no idea."

It didn't make any fucking sense, but Kirishima kept saying it and kept showing it – with his smile and the way his thumb rubbed gentle circles into Katsuki's hand – so it must be true.

"We're both okay now." Each word that Kirishima spoke sent warmth through Katsuki. "It's not unrequited. We just thought it was."

And that was something Katsuki hadn't even considered before now. That before, it hadn't mattered if Kirishima felt the same way or not. What mattered was that he had convinced himself that there was no way Kirishima cared about him as much as he cared about Kirishima.

The silence that followed was comforting. For a moment, they didn't have to say anything. Being next to each other, their fingers interlocked, was enough.

Just then, his mom called from the bottom of the staircase, "Boys! Time to pack up!" Because of course, she just had to ruin the goddamn moment.

At her voice, they froze. Katsuki didn't want their time to be over. Not so soon, not when there was still so much to talk about. And, it seemed as though Kirishima didn't want it to be over, either. His face was panicked.

"Are you still going to have to move to Class 1B?" he whispered.

"I don't know—"

"Boys?"

"Give us a sec!" Bakugou shouted. He brought his attention back to Kirishima. "Not if I can help it though."

Kirishima's panic faded into a sort-of shy smile. "Okay." Then, he deflated, just a bit. "Guess it's time for me to go."

Some subconscious part of Katsuki's mind made him tighten his grip on Kirishima's hand.

"We can text?" Kirishima's voice was hopeful.

Katsuki shrugged, passively. Still, his grip tightened. At that, Kirishima let out a little laugh.

"Come on, Bakugou, you're gonna have to let go of my hand eventually—"

"—Katsuki."

Kirishima lifted his head, eyes wide. "What?"

"My name's Katsuki."

"Oh. Right. Katsuki." As the name rolled off of his lips, Kirishima swayed happily. "And, it's Eijirou. If you'd like."

Eijirou.

Something about thinking it, about letting his mouth form the name quietly, was such a relief. Nothing could stop the soft smile that lit up his face. Finally, he let go of Kirishima's — of Eijirou's hand, so he wouldn't get in the way of school supply packing.

"You should probably get checked out by a doctor or something," Katsuki mulled aloud, watching Eijirou file his notebooks into his backpack. "Recovery Girl at the very least. Just in case."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"And, maybe, don't mention it until you're in the car with Aizawa? My parents would cause a fucking scene, and it'd just be embarrassing for all of us."

Eijirou's laugh practically shimmered in the air. "Sure thing."

He stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and reaching his hand down. Katsuki took Eijirou's hand, allowing the strong grip to help him to his feet. Even with his feet planted sturdily under him, neither of them broke the contact. They entered the hallway, shoulder to shoulder, only letting go of each other's hand when they reached the top of the staircase. Kirishima bounded down the stairs – Katsuki not far behind – and joined Mr. Aizawa in the genkan to put on his shoes.

Katsuki shoved his hands into his sweatpants and leaned against a wall, trying to feign disinterest as his parents bothered with formalities. Anything to hide how crestfallen he felt seeing Eijirou leave.

"It's a relief this plan has worked as well as it has, but it'll be good for your son to be back at UA." Aizawa muttered.

"Of course," his mom bowed, "and we cannot thank you enough for your willingness to help our son. Both of you."

"It was no problem at all!" Eijirou beamed at her. "I'm just glad I got to see him again."

She smiled at Eijirou, kindly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. When she glanced at Katsuki, for a split second, some sort of expression cross his mother's face. Was it... disappointment?

A part of Katsuki wanted to laugh. She was in for the surprise of the century. But that would have to wait.

Dad swung the front door open, beckoning the guests over the threshold and into the air of late evening. The Bakugous watched from the entryway as Eijirou and Aizawa crossed the lawn to the sleek black car that was parked along the curb.

Each step that Eijirou took was a step further away from Katsuki. Even if Katsuki did manage to return to Class 1A, that didn't stop the distance that grew between them from stinging, just a little bit. He wasn't used to having someone to miss.

Tomorrow, he mentally chided himself. He would see Eijirou again tomorrow. And they would text until then. No need to be this fucking pathetic about it.

But when they were about halfway to the car, Eijirou froze. He turned on his heel and darted up the sidewalk, up to the house, up to Katsuki. And before Katsuki could even register what was happening, there were arms wrapped around his torso, tightly, embracing him.

His parents beside him gasped, and for a second, Katsuki could only stand, stunned. He wasn't used to this sort of thing. But, it was just Kirishima. Just Eijirou. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and returned the embrace, taking in every sensation that he could.

"Kirishima—" Aizawa called.

The arms around him hugged even tighter. "Gotta go," Eijirou muttered in his ear.

As he pulled back, he pressed his lips against Katsuki's cheek. And then the arms around him were gone and Eijirou dashed on ahead.

As he jogged back to the car, Eijirou turned to wave at Katsuki. "See you at school!"

Katsuki watched him go, wide-eyes blinking in a daze. "See you at school," he responded, too quietly for anyone but himself to hear.

As the car doors slapped shut, his mother let out a piercing shriek. His dad's hand ruffle his hair. But it didn't even bother him. He could only reach his hand up, hovering over his cheek, where Kirishima's lips had pressed just moments before. He smiled, dumbly.

~oOo~

His mom took the news about as obnoxiously as he thought she would. There had been a lot of squealing. And hugging, from both of his parents. A lot of questions, 'What brought this on, huh?', 'What the fuck do you mean he has it too?', 'Okay punk, start from the beginning, tell me everything'. And it was fucking insufferable. Deep down, he knew it was just because she cared a lot. Even deeper down he couldn't help but wonder why. So, he had stuck to answering as sparsely as she would allow.

Then, there were phone calls to make. A lot of phone calls to make.

As it turned out, returning to UA wasn't as simple has Katsuki had hoped it would be. UA preferred that he check in with his doctor first, and it was difficult scheduling a doctor's appointment on such short notice. So he apparently wasn't returning to UA until the following evening.

There were still meetings to schedule and logistics to work through. Boring shit that had the potential to last well into the night. His dad was the best at that sort of thing, so he took over that operation. His voice carried faintly into the living room from the kitchen. Unfortunately, that left him in the sole presence of his mother and what were bound to be a lot more questions.

"Hang in there, kiddo," Mom beamed, but otherwise she was unexpectedly calm. She leaned against the couch's armrest next to him and ruffled his hair. "Things'll fall back into place before you know it."

"Quit it," Katsuki swatted her hand away and sank into the couch cushions in evasion. After a moment, he let out a snort. "About goddamn time. Can't happen soon enough."

"Oi. Patience is a fucking virtue." She was still smiling.

"Easy for you to say, ya old hag. You're not the one who's been coughing that shit up for weeks on end."

"Guess I can't argue with that, huh."

Katsuki's phone let out a buzz.

It was Kirishima. Eijirou, he mentally reminded himself. He could call him Eijirou now.

Eijirou's check-up had apparently gone very well. According to him, Recovery Girl had said that the disorder hadn't had the time to cause significant damage. But still, Eijirou whined about being told to sit out the following day's training. Seemed as though UA had had enough of flower-barfing students causing further harm to themselves. They were not too keen on taking any more chances.

Katsuki quickly shot back a text and pocketed his phone, before his mom had the chance to get nosy about it.

Sure enough, she was smiling at him with a knowing glint in her eyes. Slowly, she sank into the cushions next to him. Even as he kept his eyes locked on the TV screen, absently absorbing the evening news, he could feel her gaze boring into him.

After a moment, she spoke. "I'm glad you found someone, Katsuki."

Katsuki blinked. His first instinct was to protest, because seriously. Hearing sappy shit like that, from his mother of all people, was weird as hell. But then another thought came to mind, cutting his retort short. What would bring her to say something like that in the first place?

And then it occurred to him – perhaps, Mom hadn't thought it was possible. He was volatile, and really fucking unpleasant sometimes, and Katsuki knew that. So, maybe some part of her had been resigned to accept that it would never happen. That he would live his entire life without finding someone who he would love. Someone who would love him in return.

He couldn't blame her, not entirely. Not when he had convinced himself of the same thing, too.

The silence that surrounded them was more comfortable than not, the white noises of his father talking in the kitchen and the TV at low volume droning in the background. Mindlessly, they watched the week's weather forecast.

"Why?" Katsuki finally asked, to no one in particular. "Why him?"

"Well, he seems like a nice kid."

"That's the fucking understatement of the century," Katsuki muttered, some part of him having the audacity to be amused about it. "He's so goddamn nice. Too goddamn nice, to everyone, to me, and it makes me feel all weird."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow curiously. "How so?"

And fuck, Katsuki knew what she was playing at. And he'd be damned if his mom got him to start monologuing about sentimental shit like feelings.

"Mind your own damn business." It was all bark, no bite. Sulking, he gave out a little shrug. "'S not like I wanna feel all that shit in the first place. I'd be a lot better off if I didn't."

When Mom looked over to him, her brows were drawn together, and there was something sad in her eyes. "You don't mean that, do you?"

Katsuki didn't know what he meant. So, he shrugged again.

"Katsuki..." Mom let out a sigh. "How you feel for that boy, and how he feels for you... It's a beautiful thing."

Christ, did his mom have to go and make this a fucking sap-fest? His cheeks began burning immediately. With a huff, he turned away, remaining pointedly quiet.

"Love is a beautiful thing, Katsuki, it really is." She took his silence as an opportunity to continue. Her hand rubbed one of his shoulders. "And I'm worried that, with all that's happened, you'll start to resent those feelings. That you'll push them away, even more than you did before."

"Would you blame me if I did?" His voice was barely above a whisper. God, he hated how his voice cracked on the words.

Mom said nothing at first. She just watched him, carefully, and Katsuki shifted under her gaze. After a moment, her lips pressed into a pained smile.

"No," she admitted. "No I wouldn't blame you. But, I hope you understand, Katsuki. Love is not what made you sick. You... you do know that, right?"

Did he though? His mother's voice was hopeful, her eyes patient, offering him time to truly consider her question. Katsuki pouted. Slowly, he allowed himself to sink into his feelings, be overcome with them. He imagined Eijirou's smile. Every time Katsuki saw that smile, his heart wanted to beat out of his chest. Just remembering Eijirou's laughter had a way of making his lips want to lift into a soft smile. And Eijirou's kindness, to him of all people, made his world shine a little brighter.

Something had to have caused the roses. But it couldn't have been love. He did know that, deep down. There was no way that something as beautiful as love could have been the root of so much pain.

Katsuki drew a knee to his chest. "Yeah." His own voice pounded against his eardrums. He let out a shaky breath. "Yeah I do."

Mom's smile widened in relief. She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm proud of you, Katsuki. And of Kirishima too, of course. Both of you, for working it out."

Okay, now this was getting out of hand. Before he knew it, his mom was gonna start spewing even cheesier shit, things like 'Look at my little boy all grown up'. Or worse, teasings. The hand clutching at her heart, 'Ahh, young love'. A pinch of his cheek, 'So when's the wedding?'. Katsuki could imagine it now. He shuddered.

"Whatever," he finally grumbled, willing himself to sink lower into the cushions. "Just don't go around inviting him to family dinners or any of that bullshit."

She let out a sharp laugh. "But Katsuki! How else will we get to see more of him?"

"Eh? I'm the one who should be seeing more of him, not you old farts."

"Well, you'll be seeing more of him a lot sooner than you thought," his dad's warm voice suddenly filled the room. He lazily tossed his phone onto a side table and joined them on the couch, taking the spot to Katsuki's right. "I just got off the phone with Principle Nezu. He said the arrangements are easy to reconsider, and it won't be a problem for you to stay in Class 1A."

Katsuki looked to him, wide-eyed. "Really?"

"Yes, really. And your teachers are happy to offer supplemental training to catch you up to your classmates. Things are looking up." Dad patted his back. "You're in good hands, Katsuki."

And just then, something clicked.

Just a few weeks ago, everything his life had been uncontrollably flipped upside down – and to make it worse, he had gotten used to it. He had been so complacent in his shitty reality that anything that challenged it just felt like a dream. Even Eijirou coughing up flowers had seemed too good to be true.

But now, with each reversed shift, what felt like a dream was beginning to feel more and more like reality. Eijirou loved him back. He wasn't changing classes. He would start training soon. He would catch up. All thanks to the people in his life banding together, supporting him, and he didn't understand why. And yet, it was real. All of it was real.

Usually when Katsuki cried, it was because he was angry, or frustrated, or hopeless. But, as the overwhelming relief finally cut its way into reality, as it sank into his skin and into his heart, he felt his eyes dampening.

"Ohhh, Katsuki," his mom's hand rested on his shoulder, "What's there to cry about?"

"I'm not fucking crying."

"It's okay," she said. "It's okay to cry."

He tried holding it back, tried telling himself that it he was happy so it was stupid to cry, but a sharp pain cut into the joy. Why did they care so much? He didn't deserve this.

"I'm just..." His body shook. "I can't fucking get over that this is happening. That it's over. That someone out there – that Eijirou – that he actually... And, you guys, it doesn't make any fucking sense, why..."

His voice was hoarse, ragged, and the rest of the sentence would not come out. He let out a groan and hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees, face in his hands. It took all of his might to stop his body from shaking. He didn't deserve any of this.

Why wouldn't they hate him as much as he hated himself?

His mom wound her arms around his torso gently, rested her chin on his shoulder. "Katsuki..."

"Come here," his dad grunted, kneeling on the couch and slowly guiding Katsuki into his chest. "We love you, so much. We're here for you. And yet, you always pull away. Why?"

"I don't know," Katsuki choked out.

"I think I know why, Katsuki," his mom's voice was heavy. "I know why, and it breaks my heart. So, let me ask one more question."

The arms around his waist hugged even tighter. His mom let out a sigh.

"Katsuki... What's got you convinced that you are unworthy of love?"

~oOo~

Upon his return to school, Katsuki was immediately sent to Recovery Girl's room. She listened closely to his breathing, his heartbeat, the cold metal of her stethoscope sending shivers up and down his spine. A part of him almost expected the check-up to go wrong. Almost expected her to tell him that there had been some sort of mistake. That it wasn't over.

But of course, she said no such thing.

After lunch, he was finally permitted to return to class. His parents had assured him that Aizawa would tell the class of his return, but not any specifics about his condition. There were murmurs from his peers when he entered the classroom. Then, Eijirou shouted his name and bounded up to him, taking Katuski's hands in his own and welcoming him back with a cheery smile.

Even though Katsuki had already mentally prepared himself for such a welcome, composing himself was still nearly impossible. He let it happen anyways, because it was Eijirou.

But what Katsuki wasn't expecting, was for the other students to join in.

It wasn't the entire class, and it would have been even weirder if it was. But several of them circled around him, all talking over each other about how good it was to have him back.

Racoon-Eyes – Ashido, Katsuki reminded himself – said she was happy he was feeling better. The one with the cakes – What was his name? Satou? – offered him some sort of a home-baked miniature spiced loaf. Sero gave his back a big pat. Kaminari threw an arm around his shoulders and cracked some sort of a joke, and everyone laughed. Including Katsuki.

He hadn't even realized how much like a family this class was to him.

Then the door slid open and Aizawa entered the room, his hair floating this way and that and his eyes glowing red, and everyone promptly returned to their seats.

As he crossed the room to his desk, Katsuki glanced to the back of the room – meeting mismatched eyes. Todoroki gave him a curt nod. Katsuki nodded back. He took his seat.

Aizawa briefly acknowledged his return, and then class was underway. Slowly, everything was returning to normal.

~oOo~

Well. Almost everything.

Katsuki and Eijirou were knocking out some algebra homework in his dorm a few nights later, when...

"We should go on a date sometime," Eijirou dropped like a bomb.

Katsuki choked on the water he was drinking, almost spewing it across the desk. "What the fuck."

"Sorry!" Eijirou's laughter was explosive, deep from his gut. "It's just, well. We're... dating, right? Or. Yikes, maybe I shouldn't just assume something like that."

"Do you... want us to be dating?" Katsuki started, slowly, as if he was scared that any sudden loud noises would ruin everything.

"Well yeah!" Eijirou bulldozed through. "I mean I won't force it, but if you want us to be, then—"

"Do whatever," Katsuki mumbled. "We already know how we stand, feelings-wise."

"Well, yeah, but, confessions are only half of it, the rest is a grey area! With dating, there's more to it. Like, going out. And kissing. And... well..." Eijirou trailed off. He gave a little shrug. "Right, Katsuki?"

Hearing Eijirou say his name like that... it made Katsuki feel really happy. Not that he would admit it. He turned to hide his blush. God, he was not used to any of this.

"But hey, I think I understand." Eijirou's smile was warm. He placed his hand over Katsuki's. "This past week has been a lot to take it, huh? For both of us, but especially for you. There's a lot of stuff for us to navigate. I don't know what I'm doing. And I know you don't, either. You'll be sure to tell me if I'm making you feel uncomfortable, okay?"

"Okay."

"Like you said, we know how we feel, so, there's no rush. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Maybe, for right now, a grey area is good enough?"

Katsuki rubbed his thumb in slow circles on Eijirou's hand. "Yeah."

"Oh man... I can't help but feel like it's fate or something," Eijirou continued, an air of whimsy coloring his voice. "I did a lot of research on Hanahaki last night because, hey, I gotta know what's going on, ya know? And, do you know how weird our situation is? The worldwide prevalence is like, a fraction of a fraction of a percent. And yet, we both got it. What are the chances of that?" He clicked his pen. "Fate. It's gotta be."

"Yeah, no kidding," Katsuki muttered, but honestly, he wasn't convinced.

Recovery Girl had admitted herself that the disorder did not develop randomly. There were contributing factors, increased likelihoods. And then, there was Todoroki. A third person in a very, very small sample. There were pieces that wanted to fit together, but Katsuki didn't know how to get the edges to line up. And unless he figured it out, none of this was making any sense.

Maybe Eijirou noticed the frustration on his face, for he murmured, "Hey. Everything okay?"

"No, yeah, I'm fucking fine," Katsuki sighed. "I just, am finding it really fucking difficult to take this all in."

"I know what you mean. I'm still in a little shock too. I thought there was no way the feeling was mutual."

That wasn't what Katsuki had been frustrated about – Eijirou had no way of knowing what plagued his mind – but maybe the topic change could work as a sort of distraction, so Katsuki played along.

"I mean, it took me developing a fucking love disorder to figure it out how I felt," he snorted. "And even then, I denied it for weeks. But, there just came a point where I couldn't anymore."

"For me, it was Kamino."

Katsuki looked up to Eijirou in surprise. "That early?"

At that, Eijirou hummed, his smile crooked from embarrassment. "I mean, I knew I cared about you before then, but I had just figured I had a crush on you or something." His lips were smiling, but there was a pain behind his eyes. "And then you were gone, and I panicked. I had to go after you, get you back, or I would never forgive myself for letting you go. That's when I realized, there was no way it was just a crush. But, I didn't know how to tell you about it."

"I think we're just cursed with really fucking poor communication."

This time, it was Eijirou's turn to snort. "Guess that should be a top priority of ours from here on out. Really, if it weren't for Todoroki, none of this would have been possible."

"Todoroki."

"Yeah! Aizawa told us you were switching classes, and, well..." Eijirou rubbed the nape of his neck, which Katsuki was starting to realize meant he was a little bashful. "I didn't take it the best. And I think he noticed, so he asked me to replace him as your tutor. It's thanks to that shove that we're even here."

For a moment, Todoroki's voice echoed around in Katsuki's head.

'You have a chance, don't throw that away.'

So it hadn't been his mom who asked UA to send Kirishima in Todoroki's place, after all. It had been...

Katsuki let out a tch. "That bastard," he muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

But it wasn't really nothing. Because the more he thought about Todoroki, and his story, the clearer everything became. A piece of the puzzle had snapped into place. And Katsuki could feel that a few others were not far behind.

~oOo~

Several days later, Katsuki's hand hovered over Recovery Girl's door. Something inside of him made him hesitate. With a shake of his head, he wrapped his knuckles.

"Come in, come in."

He opened the door. Red hair and a smiley face beamed back at him. Of course.

"Hey, Bakugou!" Eijirou waved from the cot. "Fancy seeing you here!"

Katsuki froze, and for a moment, he could feel his face betray his surprise. He collected himself quickly, offering a weak smile and a 'hey' before turning his head away. God, he was still fucking awful at this sort of stuff.

Recovery Girl sat on her chair in front of him, pressing her stethoscope against his completely bare chest. "One moment, Bakugou, I'll be right with you." She repositioned the stethoscope a handful of times before removing the earpieces and rolling her chair back. "Very good Kirishima, everything seems in tip-top shape. I think today is probably the last check-up you need."

"Woohoo!" Eijirou hopped to his feet and tugged a t-shirt over his head. "Guess it got itself worked out before I even knew it was there." He grinned at Katsuki. "And that's all thanks to you, you know!"

Katsuki nearly choked on his spit. His hand flew up to cover his own mouth. "Shut up, dumbass," he muttered between his fingers, "you can't just, fucking..."

At this rate, it was as if Eijirou couldn't physically stop himself from smiling. Even still, his gaze averted and he brought his hand to rub at the nape of his neck, a blush tinting his cheeks. "Come on, Hanahaki twin, no need to be like that!" He hooked his arm around Bakugou's shoulders and flashed a warm grin. "In a super weird way, I really should be thanking you. Of course, I should thank Recovery Girl, too!" He turned to her and gave a little bow. "Thank you so much for looking after me, ma'am!"

"Oh, please," she waved her hand in a shooing motion. "I'm just doing my job."

"And without you doing your job so well, Bakugou and I would be in a lot worse shape!"

"Yes, yes, fine, that's quite enough, young man." Her voice was tinted with exasperation, but under the surface, Katsuki could feel how fond she was of Eijirou. Honestly, he was starting to think that it was impossible for anyone to dislike the guy. "Weren't you just telling me about an essay you haven't started?"

"Oh right," Eijirou snapped a finger. "Can't forget about that. I, uh..." He glanced over at Katsuki and flashed another grin. "Guess I'll see you later!"

"Yeah," he grunted out. God, what was wrong with his voice? "You too."

With casual interest, he watch as Eijirou strode towards the door, hoping that his face didn't look too longingly after him as the door slid shut.

"Hanahaki twins..." he echoed under his breath, exasperated, because how on earth did Eijirou even come up with shit like that? But still, a smile tugged at his lips.

Then the words settled uneasily in his stomach. Twins.

He turned to where Recovery Girl sat at her desk. "He doesn't know about Todoroki."

At first, Recovery Girl didn't acknowledge him. Just kept typing away, filling in whatever report she was working on.

Finally, she let out a sigh. "So. He told you, did he?"

He lowered himself onto the cot and gave a hum of affirmation.

"That boy..." She pressed her lips in disapproval. "It's dreadful what his father puts him through, what with the surgery and all. Absolutely dreadful. But you didn't hear that from me," she swiveled her chair toward him. "Todoroki is still afflicted. And he still wishes to keep it on the down-low, you understand."

Katsuki nodded grimly.

"I do hope he is able to fully recovery, as you and Kirishima have."

With any other condition, her words would not have been so strange. But, due to the nature of the disorder, her words were layered with meaning. She hoped Todoroki would be cured. That he would find love. And normally, Katsuki wouldn't give a shit about Todoroki. But he had been affected by Hanahaki long enough to never wish it on even his most heated rivals. And so, some hidden part of him found itself inexplicably agreeing with her.

"What about you, Bakugou?" She returned her attention to her computer and pulled up a new form. "It's been a week since you returned to UA. You're healing perfectly, and are well on your way to being completely cured. So, what brings you here?"

"Check-up."

The last time he had been called to her office for a check-up had been on Monday. It was Wednesday now, and he had come of his own accord. If Recovery Girl found it strange, she didn't show it. Only nodded and rolled her chair towards him.

As she approached, he lifted his shirt up so she could place the stethoscope against his skin. At her instructions, he inhaled and exhaled, knowing perfectly well that no air was catching in his lungs.

As she pulled the stethoscope away, Recovery Girl spoke. "Something else is on your mind, isn't it?"

She had always been an observant woman. Katsuki adjusted his shirt, collecting his thoughts. "I think I've worked some things out," he finally responded. "About Hanahaki Disorder."

She tilted her head. "And what's what?"

"Somehow, three students in the same class have developed it – and that shouldn't make any sense. But before, you mentioned that there were factors that could make people more susceptible. You even admitted that UA's lack of responsibility put students at higher risk."

He watched Recovery Girl carefully, but her expression remained unreadable, so he continued.

"When we were studying, Todoroki told me something that didn't even strike me as odd until later. He said that Endeavor knew a couple Pro-Heroes who had this same condition. This same rare condition. So I think about all of this, and I think about what our class has been through that sets us apart from everyone else. And I think I've worked it out."

"There really isn't much known about the condition," Recovery Girl let in a deep breath. "But, we do know where it first appeared. There was a war a long time ago, and upon the solder's return home, many were diagnosed with serious anxiety disorders. Acute Panic Disorder. General Anxiety Disorder. PTSD. And some, had developed Hanahaki. Today, it develops most often in victims of freak accidents, survivors of natural disasters, Pro-Heroes. There are individual exceptions of course, but every statistical analysis points to the same thing."

"Trauma," Katsuki finished for her.

Recovery Girl nodded, her lips pursed bleakly. "Hanahaki isn't just a disorder of unrequited love. It seems to be somehow related to a person's stress response, found in those who have experienced tremendous trauma. Life-threatening trauma. If you happen to fall in love with someone who shared those experiences with you, especially if they're the ones who helped you overcome it, then..." She trailed off, allowing Katsuki to finish her thought for her. With a tut, she continued. "This school has been doing you students rotten, leaving you all susceptible like that, with minimal preventative measures. It's downright shameful."

She sat up a little straighter in her chair, as if realizing the inappropriate nature of her rant. "Even so, Hanahaki Disorder is not guaranteed. An individual's coping mechanisms, or resilience, might stop the development. It is still rare after all. But, with those conditions met, the likelihood increases tenfold. This isn't exactly the sort of thing that the hero community wants to be common knowledge, you see. I only wish that UA would do something to better prepare its students for their future reality."

It was nice, hearing his suspicions confirmed. Katsuki thought back to the USJ. To the trip to I-Island. To his rescue. Villain attack after villain attack. And through all of that, there was only one person who stayed by his side, every step of the way.

"That... makes sense," he conceded. The two of them really had been through so much together. Just like Todoroki had said.

Todoroki. In an instant, his thoughts fixated. He thought of Todoroki's story. His childhood, his experiences at UA. There had to be some common denominator. If all of this stuff about trauma was true, then for Todoroki, that meant...

He stood abruptly to his feet. "I think I just figured something else out, too."

~oOo~

Katsuki hated having unpaid debts. And, according to Eijirou, he owed Todoroki. Big time. But Katsuki didn't seek him out. Todoroki found him first.

Katsuki was supposed to be chilling with Eijirou and some of the others in the common room. He could tell that those closest to them, like Ashido and Kaminari and Sero and even Jirou, were picking up on the change between the two of them. Katsuki didn't mind if they knew – and, more importantly, they didn't seem to mind either. Eijirou even told him that the class seemed so much happier now that he was back. Katsuki wasn't sure he believed it, but he could tell that Eijirou did, whole-heartedly.

It had only been a few minutes since they had congregated on the couches, and the others were already making a ruckus. And maybe Katsuki was having a little fun, too. But there was a flash of red and white from across the room. When Katsuki looked up and the two of them locked eyes, Todoroki gave a tilt of his head. Come with me.

It was as good an opportunity as he would ever get. Almost immediately, Katsuki was on his feet.

"Bakugou...?" Eijirou whispered. Katsuki liked it when he called him by his given name, but around their teachers and classmates, they were both a little careful about it.

"Just give me a moment," he answered calmly, eyes trailing where Todoroki turned the corner.

Eijirou followed his gaze, catching sight of the red and white hair before it disappeared. His mouth shaped into an 'o', and then a smile, and he gave Katsuki a nod. So he understood. That was a relief.

As he walked, Katsuki stuck his hands in his pant pockets. Up ahead was the corridor that lead to the boy's communal amenities. This time of night, there was one room that was likely to be empty.

Sure enough, when Katsuki entered the washer room, Todoroki spoke.

"I didn't say it before, but welcome back."

His voice was as level as usual, but when Katsuki met his eyes, he could see the intense gaze that Todoroki was observing him with.

"Yeah."

"To Class 1-A."

Katsuki looked to the floor. Dug the toe of his slippers into the linoleum floor. Eventually, he gave a curt nod.

"So I was right. Kirishima, he—"

"—That's none of your business."

"Of course it isn't." There was something petulant in Todoroki's tone. Something frustrated.

Katsuki leaned against one of the washers, arms crossed. For a good minute, neither of them said a word. And as each second passed, Katsuki began to realize that he would have to be the one to speak next. Otherwise, nothing more would be said between them.

He didn't know how this Icy-Hot bastard responded to thanks. Would he say 'you're welcome'? Or try to brush it off like it wasn't a problem? Or maybe he would act oblivious, like he had no idea why he was being thanked in the first place.

Regardless, Katsuki was about to find out.

"I suppose I should thank you or something," he grunted.

Katsuki could say more. He could thank Todoroki for realizing that Eijirou felt the same way even when he couldn't. He could thank Todoroki for setting up the opportunity for them to work things out. But he didn't have to. Todoroki knew what he had done.

He could feel Todoroki's eyes on him. After a moment, he saw from the corner of his eye Todoroki give a slight nod in acknowledgement. A reaction that was well within what Katsuki had expected of him.

The words that followed were so soft, Katsuki almost didn't catch them.

"What does it feel like?"

Surprised, he looked over to Todoroki. The guy's eyes were downcast, lost-looking. And Katsuki shouldn't care. But somehow, he really, really did.

"You know what it feels like."

The words were out of his mouth before he could even think, but that was okay. He had to do this. He had a debt to pay.

"I don't."

"You can recognize it in others, can't ya? So why not yourself?"

Todoroki opened his mouth – to protest? – but he promptly shut it again. Katsuki used his silence as an invitation.

"Listen to me," his voice was nearly in a growl. "You know who it is. Deep down, you know. Someone who has been through hell with you, stood by your side through it all, but you're too fucking scared to admit it to yourself." He kicked himself off of the washer and reached for the door handle. "You have a chance." He swung the door open.

"Bakugou—"

"Don't you dare throw it away."

The door slammed shut behind him.

~oOo~

The rest of the week came and went without much excitement. Both he and Eijirou were permitted to begin training again – this time, for Katsuki, with supplemental exercises every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday afternoons. Which was a goddamn relief. If the work from that Saturday's exercise was anything to go by, he was sure to catch up in no time. Hell, by the end of the semester, he was sure to gain an edge!

Although, the lesson had left Katsuki exhausted, so that evening, he worked on his homework alone in his dorm room. He had just finished up an assignment on the Silver Age of heroes, when there was a knock on the door.

Katsuki set down his work and went to open the door. His eyebrows raised practically to his hairline.

It was Eijirou, dressed to the nines in a pair of nice slacks and a button-up. The ensemble was brought together by a god-awful patterned tie.

He smiled tensely. Nervously. "Hey Bakugou."

"Katsuki," he corrected tersely, and it would have probably sounded a little intimidating if only his mouth would quit smiling. "What are you doing?"

"Right. Katsuki. It's just... Oh man, I know it's sappy. And I know that sappy isn't really your thing. But Todoroki was just so manly today,, and it really inspired me to do the same, so—"

"—Woah, woah, wait, hold the fuck up," with a wave of his hand, Eijirou paused. "... Todoroki?"

"Oh. Didn't you hear?"

"... Hear what?"

"He asked out Midoriya today!"

And Katsuki tried to hide his shocked expression, he really did. It wasn't that it was fucking Deku – he'd had his suspicions ever since his talk with Recovery Girl. It wasn't even that Todoroki figured it out. No, what surprised him most was that Todoroki actually went and did something about it.

"I heard it from Uraraka, she was sitting next to them when it happened. It was totally out of the blue, right in the middle of lunch, like the first official date in the class was no big deal. She doesn't even think Midoriya realized what was happening at first, he was fine one moment and then beet-red the next, can you imagine? And then he told Midoriya this thing, about not wanting to throw away his chance, and I remembered what Crimson Riot said about living life without regrets. And it made me realize a few things." Eijirou caught a breath. "About us."

Katsuki blinked. "Yeah...? What about us?"

"I know that we talked, and that we sort of agreed to go with the flow. But also, I feel like Hanahaki took away from us the sorts of things that teenagers look forward to. And, I don't want us to take our feelings for granted and end up getting stuck in some weird grey area. I want to do things properly."

"What are you talking about?" Katsuki stood straighter, for the first time really noticing how Eijirou was dressed. How Eijirou looked like he was hiding something behind his back. "Wait, what do you have—"

"Bakugou," Eijirou bowed, holding his hidden gift out in front of him for Katsuki to finally see. "I love you so, so much. Please go out with me!"

And god, did that make him feel things, how could he reject that? The 'Fucking whatever' had almost passed his lips, when Katsuki caught sight of the gift.

A single red rose.

As if on instinct, his hand flew up to cover his airways. His palm muffled a sharp "Fuck no."

Eijirou's shoulders tensed. Slowly, he lifted his head. "...What...?"

"Fucking hell, Eijirou, a rose? Seriously?"

"... Oh my god. "

"I might actually throw up."

"Holy fucking shit. I'm a dumbass."

"It's not like I don't appreciate the sentiment," Katsuki waved his hand, nearly theatrically, "you just better not bring it on our date tonight."

At that, Eijirou looked up, hope in his eyes. Then his lips broke into a wide smile. "I won't, Katsuki, I swear!"

"Good!" Katsuki couldn't help but smile back. This was fucking absurd. "You have 10 minutes to get it out of my vicinity. If I smell so much as a whiff by the time I'm done getting ready, I'll find it and blow it up myself!"

Eijirou gave a thumbs-up. "You can count on me, Katsuki!"

"I better be able to!" With that, Katsuki slammed the door shut.

... And then proceeded to burry his blazing cheeks in his hands.

God. Fuck. Fucking hell, Eijirou was so fucking ridiculous, and it did fucking ridiculous things to his head and his heart and his everything and he never wanted Eijirou to stop. He wanted Eijirou to be fucking ridiculous. All the goddamn time.

Honestly, with this past week helping him wrap his head around the idea, a date with Eijirou didn't sound like such a bad idea. It was such short notice, there was no way they'd be allowed to leave campus. But hell, if Eijirou wanted to dress up all fancy just to eat pizza rolls and sabotage each other in fucking Mario Kart, then that's what they'd fucking do.

But, the flower did have to go.

Katsuki was really fucking sick of the smell of flowers.