He'd been lied to.

That was the only explanation that made any sense. Katsuki replayed the fight over and over in his skull—Deku's broken fingers, the way the power erupted out of him, like something that had always been there, waiting. Like something hidden.

All those years. All those years of Deku has no quirk, Deku is quirkless, poor useless crybaby Deku—and that. That had been sitting underneath the surface the entire time.

He thought back to every moment that should have been a sign. The way Deku always watched him too carefully. Studied him. Analyzed him.

He'd always assumed it was admiration. Worship, even. He'd let himself believe it. Was he wrong?

You think you're better than me.

That was what it was, wasn't it? Some long game. Some quiet, patient joke where Deku got to watch Katsuki push and push and push against someone who was never actually beneath him.

Got to smile that stupid teary smile. Got to play the victim. Got to be the underdog.

Got to make Katsuki look like a fool. His palms crackled with rage. And then his mind snagged on something worse.

You.

You'd been there too. The three of you, always. Before UA, before any of this, back when they were small enough that the creek behind the neighborhood felt like an ocean.

You'd been the one in the middle. Deku on one side, him on the other, and you somewhere in between.

You knew. You had to have known.

He found you outside the arena corridor, still watching the direction Deku had gone.

"Hey."