The battle with all for one, the war. It left so many people scarred, changed, altered for life, especially Katsuki. The only reason he was alive was because two great heroes sacrificed their lives for him, and he was forever in debt to them. And forever stuck in those stupid moments, where his breath was held, the moment he died, coming back to life, seeing Izuku crying over him. And the scars, god, the scars were horrendous. Katsuki's once pristine skin was now marred, twisted, and burnt in laced with traumatic memories of the war.

But it was the year break, December, before he was back at UA. As a second year, what's even more shocking is that he was going back to the farm, after so long. Katsuki's childhood, spent with 2 close people. Izuku, that nerd with his green curls and stuttering, and you. You and the nerd have never met; you were at the farm, and Izuku was back home. The farm that you lived on, Katsuki's grandpa's owned, over in the countryside.

Your family is good friends with him, and your parents have taken care of the farm since his grandpa died. Katsuki's mom handed over most of the ownership to your family, but he hasn't been there in years. The last time he saw you. Katsuki was seven, uncaring of the world. With a flashy quirk, being dragged off by your excited rambles, and an ever-so-confident personality. Into the forest.

Tumbling among grasses, goofing off in the tree house. Early in the mornings, dragged out of bed to run into the forest. To sit in the hammock of the clearing and stare at the sky till the sun started to rise. The soft moments, he felt the warmth of your hand in his, the thrill of their secret world hidden in the heart of the forest. A heavy memory, a glimpse of a time long past. Two kids running through the woods, laughing and carefree, a secret hideout in a tree, holding hands and feeling the thrill of affection for the first time.

But the memories were blurry, tinged with the dullness of half-forgotten dreams. His chest tightened. His arm was bandaged, tucked in a sling. The familiar countryside, that warm fuzzy feeling of being away from the city, it felt like home. The sweet chirping of a song bird from somewhere nearby, the sounds of a distant tractor, the smell of hay, the sight of trees for as far as the eye could see. Home. It seemed a lot smaller than he remembered, but no less calming.

His car pulled into the familiar dirt and gravel driveway, and the engine shut off, bringing Katsuki fully from his nostalgic memories and into the present. Staring at the farmhouse, and the familiarity. Everything frozen in time, untouched. His dad, Masaru, got out of the car, grabbing their suitcases. His mom, Mistuki, is talking with yours. Katsuki slid out from the backseat, holding his injured arm against his chest.