They fought earlier that day.

It was stupid, Katsuki knows it, but seeing Izuku getting so heated up about- about his safety, it just… made him snap. He hated that he reacted like the way he did, but even more he hated how Izuku didn’t even fight back this time. He watched how Izuku walked away with that look in his eyes, muttering something about being late to work, and he couldn’t even find the strength in his arm to reach out, or at least manage to get the words that were stuck in his throat out to say something— anything. Some things really just don’t change for Katsuki, and he stood there and watched Izuku leave just like that.

Just like that.

He wasn’t focused later on that day. Too distracted, mind filled to the brim with the thought of Izuku, and he messed up his aiming for his explosion. It was bright, it was hot, burning, searing, and the villain came in through the flames— using Katsuki’s mistake as a diversion— and managed to slice his thigh. He managed to move himself in time, mind cleared from the stinging pain but even so he grabs the villain by his face, palms slowly heating up as he stares at them in pure fury: “Go to hell.” He utters, the villain passing out from fear and Katsuki doesn’t even bother burning his face. He tosses him aside when the support came in, coming to handle the villain and Katsuki’s injury.

It must’ve been on the news, or Izuku had a gut feeling— a sense of deja vu maybe— because when he got home, later than normal, Izuku was pacing back and forth in the living room. His legs only stopped when he saw Katsuki and his eyes immediately trail all over his body.

It was tense for some reason. A reason Katsuki knew very well. A reason that he knew Izuku had every right to get angry about. Even still, seeing how Izuku looks pale, scared to fucking death, it pisses him off.

“I’m fine.” He declares, but he sees the way Izuku’s brows furrow and he knew he didn’t believe him. “Fucking drop it, I said I’m fine.” He sneers and his words come out way harsher than he intends them to be. Even so his legs move forward until he’s in front of Izuku and his hand comes up to press against the side of his neck.

“I’m fine so…” he trails off quietly, voice finally reflecting his inner turmoil, but his thoughts haven’t quite caught up to speed just yet. “Stop worrying so much over shit like this.” He whispers, words rough but his eyes pleading with Izuku. He doesn’t want him worrying too much about him anymore, he doesn’t want to see Izuku take matters into his own hands, not because of him— he thinks— no matter how good it feels to be this important to Izuku.