Chapter 1: Game Over: Replay?
Katsuki wakes to a ceiling that's all too nostalgic. The sun filters in the crack between the curtains with a gentle heat. His body isn't sore like it should be. He can't feel the swelling on his face or the countless bruises he gathered in the course of the battle. He stares at the ceiling and tries to figure out why the harsh fluorescents of a hospital are absent, why there's no smell of antiseptic, why he feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
He wakes to a morning in simpler times. A morning that feels more like a dream than a day.
First of all, what the fuck.
Second of all, what the fuck?
When he was younger, he used to enjoy the warmth of the sun on his face as his eyes blinked open. When he was younger, he had a family to take care of him and fewer worries about the villains he'd have to face. When he was younger, he didn't carry guilt heavy upon is shoulders. When he was younger, he still knew how to dream.
He's not so young anymore. Or, rather, he shouldn't be.
Katsuki stares upward and lifts his hand to his face. As he reaches to rub the sleep from his eyes, his fingers touch wetness. He wipes the tears away before they fall. The heat of battle drains from his system, but the cries of desperation still echo in his ears. Loudest of all is Deku—his voice raw with pain, breaking with agony. Katsuki clutches the front of his T-shirt. There is no injury, but it hurts like an open wound.
Katsuki wakes to a morning that happened more than a decade ago. It is the morning ten days before he hits the halfway mark to turning four. It is the day he gets his quirk. It is the day he starts to look down on anyone who doesn't have one.
The first explosion he sets of with small hands that are his once again comes out as a spark and a puff of smoke. He knows how much more powerful it will become. But for now this is the extent of his abilities. Hardly enough to defend him from a mosquito, nevermind an actual villain.
He is nearly three and a half years old but with memories from when he was a UA student. He looks down at his hands. They are small and soft. They bear no callouses from hard training and no scars from battles fought or lost. At three and a half, his palms have never been dyed red with blood. At three and a half, he has hands that haven't hurt anyone. At three and a half, these small hands are blameless.
Katsuki goes to preschool.
There is no imposing ID-checking wall surrounding the school, but the chain link fence is tall enough. At this height, he has to go through the gate properly, stubbornly refusing to hold the hand his mother holds out for him but sticking close to the hem of her skirt nonetheless.
He realizes that while he has memories, his mind is hardly that of someone older. The sunshine easily distracts him, but without any warning, someone mentions All Might and he has to listen.
Katsuki goes to preschool and walks straight into Deku. They collide lightly and bounce off each other. Deku stumbles slightly, but steadies himself with a smile on his face. At three and a half, they're still friends. At three and a half, he's never given Deku a reason to hate him.
Katsuki looks at Deku and sees green eyes that haven't lost any of their glow. He sees a smile he long-since realized he wanted to protect. Deku grins at him without hesitation, and Katsuki feels guilt stab his chest, because he may be three and a half, but he remembers all the reasons Deku should hate him.
And Deku should hate him. (Though he never has). And Katsuki thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can give Deku the childhood he always deserved.
Katsuki realizes that he's been given a second chance. Through someone's quirk or some random fold in the fabric of normal space-time, he ended up back before he labelled Deku quirkless. He looks at Deku and sees someone who can still be considered a friend. Deku doesn't bear scars that Katsuki gave him. Deku is still the Deku who dreams of being a hero and hasn't learned he doesn't have a quirk. He still looks at the world with innocent eyes—hasn't yet learned just how unfair the world can be.
At lunchtime, Deku sits by him without question. Katsuki has to look around to remind himself that Deku doesn't have Uraraka and Iida to sit with. Katsuki shows off the small puff of an explosion, which is all he can currently muster, and tries not to let it show how annoyed he is at its lack of power. He'll be stronger someday. He clenches his jaw when Deku compliments him and tries not to think about the number of times he tried to hit Deku with his explosions in his past life. Instead of boasting about his quirk for his own sake, he promises he'll protect people. (He'll protect Izuku).
Katsuki looks away from the sparkling smile he gets from Deku. He sees unadulterated admiration, and there's a knot in his stomach that tightens because of it. He has done nothing to hurt this person in front of him. Not yet. And he doesn't want to, but he has made Deku suffer too much. Left him in the dust and only doubled back to watch him cry. Katsuki can't count the number of scars he left or the number of times Izuku saved him, including—
that.
He can't think about it. The memories threaten to break the walls of his skull and the back of his eyes throb.
His hands are clean now, but he remembers when crimson dripped from his fingertips.
He has caused too much pain.
Maybe this second chance is a way for him to make up for it.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone