Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe.

Izuku could hardly hear Katsuki whisper-shouting over the sound of his own heartbeat, flooding his ears like the climax to a good book, adrenaline-filled; heart-squeezing; and blood-rushing. There was another word this, one Izuku had come to grown accustomed to these past few days: fear. Pure and unadulterated fear.

It was funny―comically funny, in fact―how just minutes ago he was admiring the sky, the contrast of the colors, thinking odd thoughts about Katsuki, etc. And now he was here, back to square one, running through the woods with fear governing every action, every thought, every breath.

Funny, right?

If the young boy hadn't been so scared, scared of the unknown possibilities―an enemy they couldn't see―he would have been concerned. For Katsuki, even with all his scabbing wounds, hoisted the boy onto his back and scaled the nearest tree.

He could distinctly see the visible strain it put on the blond to have the added weight on his body, and the tiniest parts of Izuku felt bad. But then he remembered why they were here, and that part of him was promptly quenched into nothingness.

As soon as they reached the highest―and sturdiest―tree branch Katsuki pulled Izuku behind him, his fingers practically searing into the skin of Izuku's arm.

Much akin to himself, Katsuki was heedful and circumspect, head darting back and forth across the horizon. Though Izuku wondered how he'd be able to see anything from such a height. Not that Izuku would ever dare look down―his blatant fear of heights proving too difficult. 

The blond stayed in a crouch, easily balanced on the tree with one hand lightly pressed to the base of the bark. He didn't move, didn't blink, hell, Izuku was slightly concerned if the boy was breathing.

And as the second poured into minutes swirling into an hour, Katsuki began to lower himself onto the branch as well, leg straddling each side with his back still to Izuku. His shoulders were still locked and tensed, but he seemed to relax as time went on.

Still, it did little to nothing for Izuku's hammered heart and painfully hyper-active mind. 

Katsuki snuck a glance at the boy, quick but perceptive.

"I'm sure it's fine," he settled, offering the best smile he could at the moment. "We're probably freaking out for no reason, you can relax."

His words lulled Izuku in, sounding rather convincing, though the gesture did not meet his vermillion eyes. Still watchful and prepared.

"Whoever said I was freaking out?" Izuku dismissed with an unsettling haughty expression. "You're the one who dragged me halfway through the damn forest because a bunny had some blood on it."

Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe.

Again, Izuku did not receive the response he had braced himself for. He heard Katsuki sigh, instead, loud and exaggerated. Before the freckled male had a chance to blink, the blond rolled over onto his side, dangling from the branch with one hand still gripping the ledge before hoisting himself back up in one fluid motion. This time landing down so he was facing Izuku.

And there was that look again.

It was really beginning to annoy the hell out of Izuku. It was as if Katsuki was picking through him, detaching every single aspect of himself, and picking through the pieces with great care. Like he knew everything and anything Izuku had ever thought or felt.

Fucking jackass.

"What the fuck are you staring at?" Izuku snapped, patience wearing thin and anxiety heightening.

"Literally the only person in front of me, dumbass," Katsuki replied, no malice or bite in his tone. He sounded so far away, his eyes never once leaving Izuku's face―though his expression shifted from calculating to . . . uncomfortable? "Look . . . It's uh . . . It's okay to be scared, you know?"

Izuku blinked once. Twice. 

His face void of emotion, but not necessarily a statue . . . not yet, at least.

 ". . . Are you―are you trying to make me feel better?" he surprised himself with how high-pitched and prepubescent his voice had gone. Nearly teetering on the edge of amusement. "What the hell is―"

Katsuki sighed tiredly, his eyes rolling. "Will you shut the fuck up and let me comfort you?"

"This is probably one of the most aggressive ways anybody had ever tried to 'comfort' me," Izuku deadpanned, using finger quotations as he spoke.

The blond rubbed a hand over his face, slowly and agonizingly―amusingly―piqued. When he spoke next, his words were muffled by the palm of his hand, eyes screwed shut.

"Just give me a fucking minute. I'm not used to doing this,"

"What aren't you used to, not being the embodiment of a fucking prick all the time? Shocking," Izuku grinned. 

And while he wanted nothing more than to allow his mind to slip into another distraction―a mental roadblock―he couldn't bring himself to do it. He found himself glaring daggers at the edges of the trees surrounding them, not looking down in particular, but close enough to it. There was still the potential threat of an enemy lurking just below those tree heads, waiting to strike at them.

Waiting to kill them.

"Besides," Izuku turned his harsh glare back onto his hands. "It's not needed―this 'comfort'―I'm not scared,"

Katsuki's head slowly dragged upwards, eyes challenging and eyebrow shooting up. He sat up straight, slipping his calloused hand underneath the fabric of Izuku's shirt and settling it over his chest.

"What are you doing―?"

"Your heart is beating fast," Katsuki said unvarnished and bored. "You're sweating a lot by the way, and you haven't been able to look me in the eyes for more than a few seconds at a time."

Sure enough, what the boy spoke was true. He could feel the cool slick of sweat collecting at his brows, going bitter with each gust of wind that blew by―rocking the tree ever so slightly. And damn him, damn Katsuki Bakugou straight to whatever hell he clawed out of, because he was right. Izuku was scared.

Scared so shitless he felt like a little boy, huddled in a corner crying out for his parents to save him.

But they wouldn't come back for him this time. And that was his fault.

"Fuck off," Izuku glowered, making no attempt to his move his hand, but still allowing every drop of acid and hatred into his tone. 

It was a warning, loud and clear, to drop whatever dangerous path Katsuki thought of crossing. But he didn't take the hint, for a curious glint sparked like the beginnings of a fire in his eyes―Izuku felt a thread of dread weave and sew itself in the pit of stomach at the sight. Because, again and again, Katsuki was giving him an illusion . . . an illusion of what it was like to have people who cared about him.

And fuck him for doing that. 

Because a tiny voice in Izuku's head, low and obviously wanting him to suffer, told him it wouldn't last. That it was just that. An illusion. Nothing real. Curiosity, at most.

"Izuku . . . you don't have to―to be afraid and closed off all the damn time. You know that, right? It's not healthy to be so closed off and bottle up your emotions―"

"Are you trying to give me a fuckin' pep talk while we're stuck in a goddamn tree, Katsuki?" Izuku narrowed his eyes into accusatory slits, lip curled into a snarl. "Go back to whatever brooding watchdog shit you were just doing before. I told you, I'm fine,"

The lie tasted so bitter crawling out of his mouth, now that he'd had his taste of the truth he wanted it back. Lying did not come to him like second-nature, it felt like trying to blend water and oil into one . . . it was impossible and mind-numbing. Futile.

But that never stopped Izuku from making his attempts. The stubborn jackass.

"Yes. Because clearly, this is fine. Just talk to me." Katsuki countered, sounding tired. Oh-so tired as if he were calming a petulant toddler. 

"Katsuki," he looked heavenward, mouth pressed into a thin line as he breathed with his nose. "I don't know how hard your psychopath of a fucking mother hit you yesterday―but whatever bonding moment you think we had was shit. I told you. I'm fine. Now back the fuck off,"

By now, he was red in the face, his breathing so erratic his teeth chattered with it, and not once did Katsuki attempt to move his fucking hand. Still there, feeling his heartbeat stutter into a race, just . . . there. And his face―sharp features and all, constantly pulled into an annoyed frown―had never looked so dull and patient in the time Izuku had come to know him. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, too.

So light and barely forming Izuku had almost missed it, but it was the knowing kind. Again, like he knew the war that was raging on in Izuku's head. Like he knew how it'd end if he continued on this path.

Izuku felt his jaw lock, his anger only heightening. 

"I swear to God, Katsuki, I will throw you off this fucking tree so damn fast!" Izuku all-but-yelled, eyes blazing.

"You know what―?" and Katsuki, the smug bastard, had the audacity to sound so content and at ease. Even with the dangerous threat still lingering in the air. "―I noticed you curse a lot more when you're genuinely pissed off. Or when someone is proving you right . . . It's kind of funny,"

And that was it. Whatever tangible thread of control Izuku was holding onto snapped, his actions blinded by his own anger. It was overwhelming like he was drowning in the heat of . . . well, himself.

He lunged forward at Katsuki, hand curled outward as if to strangle the boy. And as soon as his body tipped forward to meet Katsuki's he had realized his mistake, for he began to sway and he was promptly flipped onto his back with Katsuki atop of him. 

One wrong move and the blond could surely have him cascading down a thirty-foot drop.

"Look. If you don't want to talk, that's fine . . . I honestly don't fucking blame you―it was stupid of me to even try . . . But I know you're not fine, so don't bother with bullshitting me," he leaned down, making it painfully obvious how close they were. Izuku could feel the wisps of his cool breath against his face. 

All Izuku could do―like the poor, lonely, touch-starved, sixteen-year-old he was―was stare up at him. Emerald eyes blown wide and innocent as if he were staring at the sun for the first time.

"But you know what I think? I think you need to find a way to channel all of your pent-up frustration into something more productive," Katsuki finished with a whisper.

And that was pretty much it for Izuku. Maybe it was the way the blond's voice got low and daring when he whispered; maybe it was the fact that he was being pinned to a fucking tree; or maybe―just maybe―it was because Katsuki was painfully unaware of the innuendo his words held.

Izuku blinked once, twice, his breath coming out in an embarrassing sputter. Words . . . they were there somewhere in his mind―he was sure of it―he was just having a . . . struggle . . . creating? . . . forming? . . . piecing them together.

"And uhm," he smacked his lips, looking anywhere but the volcanic pools staring at him intently. "What would that be, exactly? . . . That productivity?"

But, as whatever reverse-luck Izuku seemed to carry would have it, a loud shout resonated through the air from below. It took Izuku a moment to realize it was Shoto beckoning them down―his voice so monotonous and exhausted even from thirty feet away.

Almost instantly, a grin broke out onto Katsuki's face. He perked up, tilting himself haphazardly over the edge with a toothy grin.

"Coming!" he exclaimed through a smile, flipping his lower half over the edge to grip onto the whole of the trunk. 

Scarlet eyes flickered back up towards Izuku, his hand extended out to the boy with a hesitant expression. And for a moment, if Izuku wasn't still reeling and upset, he almost asked him what that all was about before he brushed the thought away. No, instead he'd opt for the next best thing.

Mustering up the most choleric expression he could, Izuku wobbly braced himself upward, turning his nose in the air. 

"Fuck you, I'm still pissed off. I think I'll wait it out up here some more," Izuku grumbled, eyes looking heavenward once more.

He heard the elder sigh, heavy and borderline irritated. "Izuku, I don't have time for your bullshit anymore. Let's go,"

Izuku ignored him with great ease, finally appreciating the mid-morning sky, void of its once early-morning beauty. But still rich with color and warmth, much more warmth. And honestly, if he weren't afraid of heights and his ass wasn't aching like a bitch from sitting up there for so long, he would have stayed forever.

He wanted to stay here forever.

"So, what you're just going to stay up here and starve to death because you're too stubborn?" Katsuki asked as if this were a bad thing.

"Duh?"

Finally, Izuku snuck a glance in his direction, only to be met with closed eyes and an amused smile. 

"Fine then," Katsuki spoke after a moment, playing into Izuku's hand. "Go ahead and stay up here. But I bet you won't last till noon,"

Both Izuku's eyebrow and determination raised to the challenge, looking genuinely pleased since they had first scaled the tree. "Oh? Wanna bet?"

"Yeah. Considering that's when the vultures tend to circle around in this area . . . They'll be so hungry from their trip from the east they'll probably just eat you alive," Katsuki spoke idly, daring to pull one hand back and examine his nails.

Izuku, still wary, kept still but eyed Katsuki closely.

"C'mon," he beckoned pleadingly, clearly mistaking Izuku's hesitance for his fear of heights. "Do you trust me?"

No.

Yes.

No.

Maybe.

I want to . . . 

He didn't answer, not that he needed to. For a sickening bird-like screech sounded off in the air.

With that, honestly not needing anymore convincing, Izuku gladly took Katsuki's offer and climbed onto his back. He closed his eyes the entire way down―especially when the blond purposefully lost his footing on a branch or allowed himself to freefall a few feet down before grabbing onto another branch.

Eventually, they made it back to the bottom with a thud. Being welcomed to Shoto's less tired face, Soiren's quiet grumbling, and Zara's confuddled expression.

Shoto was quick to pull Katsuki into a hug, not even bothering to wait for Izuku's to climb off, making the embrace awkward and stiff. But―with not much separating his and Shoto's face right now―Izuku could tell he didn't mind. Thankfully, the younger managed to pry himself free from . . . whatever the fuck was happening over there.

"You cut your hair!" he heard Katsuki gasp after some time, and Izuku couldn't help but smile at that.

In his personal opinion―which was the right opinion―he had done an excellent job at cutting Shoto's hair. He was practically a professional, at this point. 

Not wanting to impose on their conversation any further, Izuku slipped away, making a beeline for Zara.

"Well?" Izuku huffed, eyes darting in the tall trees around them.

Zara, blinking rapidly out of her trance gazed at Izuku wide-eyed before tilting her head. "What?"

"What happened? Did you find what that blood was all about?" Izuku asked in a whisper-shout, eyebrows drew tight.

"Yes and no?" Zara offered, albeit not helpfully in the slightest.

Thankfully, before Izuku could slip into another fit of anger Soiren cut in.

"When Ductor Shoto and I were on our way back from the village we ran into Zara tracking the rabbit's trail," he explained, bored and uninterested. "We never found where the blood came from . . . directly."

Izuku's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

Shoto cut in this time, his smile wearing down into something serious. "I've grown quite accustomed to the wildlife here. Our rabbits here only breed black or brown fur . . . not white. So, the rabbit most likely hopped over the border lines―making any chance of finding out where that blood came from very slim,"

He sounded hopeful though, not resigned in the way he should have spoken. Shoto did not speak as if they were at an impasse―he sounded almost . . . smug with that 'slim' chance they held.

"I'm sure it shouldn't be of any worry for us," Shoto continued on, waving his hand dismissively. "But it does give us an excuse for visiting . . ."

Izuku cocked his head to the side. "'Visiting?'" he mulled over this before pulling a pout, "Where are we going?"

"We're going to visit my sister, Fuyumi, and her tribe. Et pluviam hominibus,"

The rain people.                    

Hello Cricket Cultists!!

What, look at me updating frequently! Who am I? I feel like the me one year ago who updated everyday XD

Let me talk about this chap a lil bit. It was short again sorry, just 3K words this time T^T.

I feel like people can learn to trust other people rather quickly sometimes, without it seeming too fast-paced and sloppy in books. I've just never seen it done correctly. To trust it to have something proven, while Izuku and Shoto do not trust each other, Katsuki and Izuku do. Because of what they went through together, you know?

Izuku risked his life to rescue Katsuki, and vice versa. That automatically solidifies a bond or a trust there, just not a strong one like Katsuki and Shoto (who would literally kill an entire village for each other). It's a start, and Izuku does trust Katsuki, just not entirely because he's still wary of how everything will play out.

He's hurting and instead of talking it out like Izuku was taught to, he's bottling it up and getting angry. Because everything reminds him of his parents now, and it's just like the universe is rubbing it in his face like "Haha fucker you killed your mom and dad and now ur sad, deal with it."

You know?

I can wait to dive into this! We might be switching back to Shoto's P.O.V for a bit, idk yet. But I'm excited!!!

Theories/comments/questions? 

Until we meet again!!!