“Well…” Izuku let out a soft, airy chuckle. His fingers twisted around themselves as his eyes glazed over. He was looking at everything and nothing all at once. “That’s because you call me Deku. You’ve always called me Deku.”

———TBC.

The telltale sound of anger and mistrust seeped into his words, making Izuku shudder. His voice boomed through the room. Even the glass of Izuku’s window shook when he spoke.
“I told you, I’m Izuku.”

“I don’t know any Izukus.”

Relief swelled through him. Katsuki remembered some of it. Perfect! It wasn’t much, but it was further than ever before! He could work with that! “I-I think that’s supposed to be me. /I’m/ the burning rock and—”

“Who the fuck are you?” Katsuki’s voice deepened.

His chest ached as he held his breath, finger lingering above the images that haunted his entire existence.

/“Can’t believe I’m talking to a voice in my…”/ Katsuki grumbled. “I had a dream… about a burning rock. Y’mean that?”

“Yes, yes!” Izuku breathed.

“Leave?” Katsuki asked.

“The paintings, remember the paintings?”

“No.”

“There are paintings on my wall. If this is the Great Orb”—he pointed despite knowing Katsuki couldn’t see him—“then that makes this small shape my room, and this part here is—”

“Wait.”

Izuku paused.

Izuku chuckled despite himself. They’d been down this road more times than he could count, and only a few of those times did Katsuki remember him in the slightest.

“Kacchan,” Izuku suddenly demanded. He pushed himself away from the wall to glance at the images once more. “Should I leave?”

“You mean… Deku?”

Izuku’s eyes snapped back open. A quick gasp brushed past his lips.

“Do you remember me this time?” he whispered.

Another moment of silence before Katsuki let out a tired breath. “No—Shit. Maybe.”

“Kacchan…”

“I-I think I see you in my dreams. Fuck, I’m going crazy.”

/Kacchan. Oh, Kacchan/

“Izuku,” he answered.

Katsuki was silent for a long moment. He sounded younger this time. Age barely tinged the depths of his voice. There was a vibrance there that made Izuku’s chest swell. This meant they’d have some time together before Katsuki left him in darkness again.

“Should I finally leave?” Izuku whispered to himself in the silence of his small confines.

“What the fuck—?!” A shocked voice echoed back. “Who’s there?”

A small, sad smile pulled across Izuku’s lips. He laid his forehead against the stone surface and sighed, closing his eyes to relish the moment.

He never had a lot of time. He could only see the mural when his skin was alight with the emerald flames, and Katsuki’s voice rang through the air. Only then could he spend his days hunkered over the pictures while his mind scoured countless possibilities.

He traced their dips and curves, following the painting in hopes of understanding the truth behind it all. It was right on the tip of his tongue. He spent centuries dwelling on every little section. He took notes, committing them to memory until he was sure he couldn’t decipher it any further.

He was warned to let it go or face the consequences the next time he lay dormant. But not even the advice from the Great Orb All-Might could stop Izuku from pondering.

Why was it there, then, if not to be questioned?

Izuku’s fingers grazed over solid black lines.

It was just a part of life. But while other stars accepted it, Izuku /questioned/ it.

Who painted it? What was it trying to tell him?

He brought his questions up with the Great Orb All-Might but was told to stop where he stood. To accept life as it was, not for what it could be.

While he enjoyed the colorful galaxies filled with stars and planets just outside the glass, Izuku was always more intrigued by the giant mural painted in black standing before him.

It told a story, something Izuku was born understanding in his bones.