On The Right Track

Katsuki slowed his pace as he got close to the platform, watching as the doors began to slowly slide closed. He’d dawdled at the agency before he left, taking his time to shower and change and repack his bag nicely, but still he’d almost managed to get to the platform on time for the earlier line – why was he so bad at being late for things?

He stepped aside and let a few people pass, slotting himself into a little gap between pillars where he wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. He had a good twelve minutes to wait for the next train, and he didn’t want to stop anyone else from getting to their destinations on time just because he chose to stand somewhere stupid while he planned his next move. The escalators had put him right in the middle of the platform, where he’d board car four or five, but he was pretty sure it was car eight that he wanted to be in.

When a gap formed in the traffic, he slipped his way through, finding the right spot to queue with a bunch of other stragglers who hadn’t quite made it onto the last departure. While he waited, he reached into his bag, pulling out a carefully wrapped rice ball. He’d stopped at a supermarket on the way to the station, to pick it up; he always got hungry on the train ride back, so he figured he may as well use his spare time to buy and eat a snack, right? Now that he knew how much time he had, though, maybe he’d stop for something more substantial the next time, before he headed to the platform. There were a couple of decent-looking cafes in the station that he passed on his way through, he could try a new one each week and figure out his favourite. That way, if someone ever ended up beside him on the way to or from his work studies, he’d be able to point out places, tell them ‘that one has the best coffee’ or ‘this one does great cakes’ – not that he liked either of those things, but.

He scowled, tearing the wrapper from his rice ball and taking an angry bite. Bits of rice fell to the ground, and he immediately regretted the sharpness he’d taken it with, only grateful that no one seemed to be paying any attention to him, to notice it. That was kind of weird, to be entirely honest. When he was in his school uniform, people always glanced his way, curiosity piqued. He couldn’t blame them – the uniform was pretty recognisable, to most people, and he tended to eye people up too, when he saw people from various heroics courses. The sight of a familiar uniform made him stand a little taller, square his shoulders to look a little broader, subtly flex to make sure his physique was obvious even if he had his blazer on. And when he wasn’t in school uniform, half the time he was in his costume, and that made people stare even more. Everyone wanted to know what was going on, when they saw a hero around, and in costume, people just assumed he was fully licensed already. Not that he minded that, of course.

The only time he didn’t get so many stares was in his casual clothes, on the rare occasion he went out in the evening after he’d changed out of his uniform, or when he deigned to visit his parents. School holidays especially were always super weird, just for how much time he spent in his own clothes. And even then, he still got looks – it wasn’t like Katsuki’s muscular frame was subtle, after all. If he was bundled up for the snow, sure, but most days? Most days it was pretty easy to guess at his career path, even if he wasn’t dressed to give it away.

Apparently, though, he’d spent way too much time at his work studies agency, because no one even looked at him twice anymore. It kind of made sense, given how many heroes probably passed through that same station, but still in his early weeks he’d caught eyes glancing him over, wondering who he was, why he was there, if he was a new hire, or an intern, or just passing through. Now, though, he saw all the same faces each time, the faces who no longer gave a shit who he was, especially when he’d showered and changed. People barely even noticed he existed, as he stood in line with his hands sticky from rice that had spilled out of the plastic wrapper, swallowing his last mouthful and shoving the trash into his bag to deal with later. He grabbed a package of wet wipes while he was in there, cleaning off his hands, and even had time to chug from his water bottle, before the grating little tune began playing from the speakers above him. He was pretty sure it was a Christmas carol, for some reason, altered slightly and cut off at a point that made no sense, played every damn day, multiple times an hour, until he was sure the station workers just wanted to tear the speakers down and destroy them with their teeth.

The train rounded a corner, gradually slowing as it pulled into the station, finally coming to a halt with a door right at Katsuki’s feet, a sign by his head showing a big, bold ‘8’. People filed off, when the door slid open, and Katsuki waited, watching them all diverge in different directions, heading for various staircases and escalators that Katsuki hadn’t yet memorised – he knew the one he climbed up and down regularly, but he hadn’t bothered to find out where the rest of them spat him out. Maybe that was a job for the next time he needed to stall a little longer, investigate a new route to his platform.

Honestly, if he’d given himself half a second to really think about it, he’d have hated himself for even considering things like that – stopping for food when he could make it himself, or exploring random, inefficient pathways; it wasn’t him, and yet there he was, acting like a god-damn fool. He knew what his friends would have said, if he’d told them about any of it. There would have been a bunch of goofy smiles, a lot of ‘awwww’s, and a fuckton of stupid teasing that he’d never be able to truly live down. Hence, he kept his mouth shut.

When the doorway cleared out, he followed the little queue on board, stepping aside again to let them all go take up the seats. He had a bit of a trip to take, sure, but it always seemed stupid to sit down when there were people who needed it more. People with shitty jobs, who needed a break. People who were older, who couldn’t stand as easily. People who were younger, who couldn’t balance so well. Katsuki spent his days blowing up villains; standing still was already a break, without needing to sit down.

He did, however, pick out a corner beside the opposite door. He knew from plenty of experience that the vast majority of the stops on the line used the door he’d just come in, which meant he could lean into the corner by the other door, and be relatively undisturbed.

With that annoying little jingle, the doors slid closed. Katsuki slumped against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment and letting out a long, slow breath. He’d made it to the right spot, now all he had to do was wait.

———

Izuku barely paused to say goodbye, bowing clumsily as he ran out the door, and waving to them all over his shoulder without looking back. He loved them all, really — he’d met some of the coolest people at the agency, had made so many friends and learned so much about the realities of being a pro-hero. And the first few weeks he’d been there, he’d taken his time, chatting with them to catch up or just learn a little more about them, and saying a long, drawn out goodbye at the end of it, before he took a leisurely stroll toward the station, admiring the little park that lined the street he used to get there.

But then, he’d had that one fateful day, the day that changed everything. It felt so dramatic, for something so objectively stupid, but it had just meant so much to him, okay? Sue him for being a little dramatic once in a while!

They’d finished up early at the agency, that day. Their patrol had been devoid of any incidents that needed paperwork done, they’d gotten back to the agency early because of that peace, he hadn’t gotten sweaty and gross in his costume since nothing had gone wrong, and it had been a Friday afternoon, to boot. The people in charge had told him to leave early, that he’d just be milling around the agency alone if he stayed, so Izuku had taken that nice little walk to the station and gotten on an earlier departure to head back to school.

He and Katsuki had talked just about every day about their work studies, sharing notes and stories with an enthusiasm Izuku hadn’t seen from him in such a long time. It was genuinely touching, to see him get so excited, and Izuku lived for those moments. But in those hours discussing their work, neither of them had ever mentioned train lines, because why the hell would they? So when Izuku had seen Katsuki through the window, leaning his head on his hand in a window seat, his eyes had grown wide as saucers. He’d gotten on at the car closest to the stairs, but then he’d navigated his way down the line, squeezing between people in doorways until he saw that face again.

It had taken all Izuku’s willpower to not giggle about it when he saw the little old woman in the seat next to Katsuki, chatting his ear off, but he’d managed to control himself, settling on just a little wave, to let Katsuki know he’d seen him.

A few stops later, when the little old lady had moved, Katsuki had shuffled over closer to the window, making room for Izuku to cram himself in beside him. They’d each grown too broad in the shoulders for it to really be comfortable, but there was still something so nice about it, about sitting with his best friend – not that he could say that out loud – and whispering about their days, to avoid disturbing anyone around them. They’d talked all the way back to the dorms, had cooked their dinner together, and done their homework together, and only finally made their split when Katsuki had started to yawn too frequently, when Izuku had reluctantly given him a teasing little smile and sent the old man to bed.

It had been one of the best days of his life, as silly as that seemed, and he’d been trying for days since, to get back on that same trip. The first time he’d needed a good shower, and by the time he’d said his goodbyes, he’d already missed the train. The second, he’d managed to get his quick shower in and say his farewell, then he’d walked at a frankly alarming speed to get to the station, just to watch the train pull away, and wave sadly at the back of it, knowing Katsuki wouldn’t see it anyway. Day after day he’d tried, until finally he’d given up on the courtesies, excusing himself in a hurry with a blurted out “I’m sorry I’m gonna miss my train.” Everyone had been so understanding, had been entirely unoffended, and even though he still hadn’t quite made it, that day, he’d gotten so close that he could practically taste it.

And so, he ran. He avoided the pretty road with the park and the people, instead taking to a back street so he wouldn’t have to dodge people. He’d found another entrance to the station that was technically a little further away, but used an underpass, so he didn’t have to wait for lights to change so he could cross. The entrance was quieter, too, which meant he never had to wait for a turn at the ticket gates, he could just run through with his IC card already in hand, holding it in place for as long as he possibly could as he ran through, thanking every god he knew when he heard the little beep beep that told him it had registered. He sprinted up the stairs, taking them three steps at a time, rather than bother with the crowded escalators, and he slid between the train car doors, just in time to hear the whistle and the jingle that signalled them closing right behind him.

He was breathing a little heavier than he’d have liked, considering he was a hero, but he’d made it, and he’d get used to it – if anyone asked, it was good cardio training, right? He was just practicing for pursuing villains, or something.

When he’d caught his breath, he turned to look over the seats, scanning them for the face he’d tried so hard to see. A familiar little snort grabbed his attention, though, and his head whipped around, only to find Katsuki right beside him, leaning into the corner where the door had now closed beside him, giving him a comfy spot to balance as they began to move.

“Kacchan!” he blurted out, grinning. “Hey!”

“Hey, nerd,” Katsuki said, much more quietly – oops, Izuku had forgotten about all the people surrounding them. “Good day?”

“Such a good day!”

He took a step closer, grabbing one of the hanging handles to steady himself as the train left the station, just in time for it to hit that little lurch that always caught him off guard, no matter how many times he took that specific train. Katsuki put a hand out, and Izuku stared at him as the warmth landed on his waist, helping steady him.

“Thanks,” he choked out. “Um, h-how was your day?”

“Pretty good,” Katsuki admitted, stepping aside and shoving Izuku into the corner, where he could rest a little easier. “There was a bridge collapse, but we got everyone out safely.”

“Every single person?”

“Yep,” Katsuki agreed, standing a little taller – he was so cute when he did that. Damn it, brain.

“Great work, Kacchan!” Izuku gushed, remembering to keep it to a whisper this time. “Tell me everything!”

Katsuki did. Izuku could have listened to the stories he told for hours and not gotten bored, he’d probably still have enjoyed them from any other classmate, but from Katsuki? It was a literal dream come true – the two of them, both heroes, hanging out together so casually and trading stories. God, he was such a lucky man.

People trickled on and off the train, emptying and refilling seats, but they didn’t bother trying to find one of their own. Two empty seats together was frankly a pretty rare occurrence, and Izuku didn’t want to lose their chatter just to rest his feet, so he tried his best to distract Katsuki, to keep him from noticing the openings as they appeared. And thankfully, Katsuki seemed easily distractable, when it came to work studies stories. He stayed at Izuku’s side, loosely holding one of the handles above them and leaving Izuku leaning against the wall in the indisputably better position, though he didn’t seem to actually need it to steady himself – his hand stayed on it, but he never seemed to pull on it or anything, he just shifted his weight slightly, like it was no big deal. Damn Katsuki and his perfect balance.

His perfect... Well, everything.

Izuku was almost disappointed when the announcement came through for their stop, but then the doors were opening, and Katsuki was stepping out, reaching a hand back like it was second nature.

“Coming, nerd?”

Izuku felt himself burn red, but he grabbed that hand tightly, before Katsuki could second guess himself and consider taking it back. He locked their fingers together clumsily, and Katsuki just stared at him as he stepped onto the platform, like he hadn’t even realised what he’d done until that exact moment.

If he wanted to let go, he would. Izuku knew Katsuki more than well enough to realise that. If it had been meant for something else, if it had just been a random gesture, he would have pulled away immediately.

Katsuki didn’t pull away.

“Coming, Kacchan,” Izuku said, his smile so wide that he thought it might fall off his face.

“Yeah,” Katsuki said, so softly that Izuku could barely hear it. “Come on.”

It had taken them a little while to get there, but everything had lined up perfectly.