MHA REINCARNATION!

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!

Izuku Midoriya, known to millions as the dazzling pop idol "Deku," stood bathed in the kaleidoscope glow of the studio lights, a forced smile plastered across his face. His latest single had just topped the charts for the tenth consecutive week, his dance moves were being imitated by teenagers worldwide, and his face was plastered on billboards from Tokyo to Osaka. On paper, his life was a dream.

But beneath the meticulously crafted image, the vibrant stage presence, and the catchy tunes, Izuku harbored a secret, a melody that only played in the chamber of his heart. A melody composed entirely of the name "Katsuki Bakugo."

Kacchan. His childhood best friend, his rival, his… crush. A crush that had blossomed insidiously through the years, nurtured by shared childhood dreams, playful wrestling matches in the park, and that unique brand of abrasive affection only Kacchan could deliver.

Now, fate, or more accurately, his ambitious manager, had thrown them together in the recording studio for a duet. A high-profile collaboration designed to shatter records and send their respective fanbases into a frenzy. The irony was a cruel masterpiece.

Each day was a torment. Each note sung alongside Kacchan was a whisper of his unrequited feelings. Every shared glance sent a jolt of electricity through his veins, leaving him trembling and flustered. And every night, Kacchan invaded his dreams, a phantom limb of longing reaching for something he knew he could never have.

His dreams were vivid tapestries woven with stolen touches, hushed confessions under starry skies, and the intoxicating warmth of Kacchan's hand in his. He'd wake up gasping, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs, the echo of Kacchan's imagined voice still ringing in his ears.

The reality, however, was a stark contrast. Kacchan, with his signature scowl and explosive personality, was as oblivious as ever. He treated Izuku with a gruff camaraderie, a familiar mix of teasing and genuine affection. He saw him as a friend, a comrade in the cutthroat world of entertainment, nothing more.

The duet itself was a brutal exercise in self-control. The song, a soaring power ballad about overcoming obstacles and achieving dreams, was laced with subtle undertones of romantic longing. Izuku poured his heart and soul into every lyric, hoping, desperately, that somehow, Kacchan would hear the unspoken words hidden within the melody.

But Kacchan remained stubbornly focused on the technical aspects, the perfect pitch, the precise timing. He was a perfectionist, that much hadn't changed. He'd bark instructions, criticize Izuku's phrasing, and push him relentlessly to improve. And with each correction, each harsh word, Izuku's heart ached a little more.

He found himself increasingly distracted during recording sessions. He'd miss cues, flub lines, and even stumble over his own feet during the choreography rehearsals. His manager/mom, Inko, was starting to raise her perfectly sculpted eyebrows in concern.

"Izuku, darling, you seem… off," she said one afternoon, her voice laced with a concern that felt both genuine and calculated. "Is something bothering you? The pressure of the collaboration? The stress of being number one?"

Izuku forced a smile. "Just a little tired, Mom. The schedule has been pretty demanding."

He couldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't confess that his heart was a battlefield, torn between the desire to protect his friendship with Kacchan and the overwhelming urge to confess his feelings. His carefully constructed world, his career, his image, was built on a foundation of discipline and control. A confession could shatter it all.

He considered confiding in Ochako, his closest friend and confidante. But the thought of burdening her with his secret, of potentially jeopardizing their friendship, kept him silent. He was trapped in a self-imposed prison, the bars forged from fear and insecurity.

One evening, during a particularly grueling recording session, tension crackled in the air like static electricity. Kacchan had been unusually critical, picking apart every nuance of Izuku's performance.

"Deku, you're holding back!" he snapped, his voice echoing through the studio. "You're not putting your heart into it! This is a damn duet, not a kindergarten recital!"

Izuku's carefully constructed façade finally cracked. The weight of his secret, the frustration of his unrequited feelings, the exhaustion of maintaining the charade, all came crashing down.

"I am putting my heart into it, Kacchan!" he retorted, his voice trembling with repressed emotion. "Maybe if you weren't so busy trying to dissect every single goddamn note, you'd actually hear it!"

The studio fell silent. Everyone stared, stunned by Izuku's outburst. Kacchan, his face a mask of bewildered anger, stepped closer.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Deku?" he growled, his crimson eyes blazing.

Izuku's palms were sweaty, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He knew he was about to cross a line, a point of no return. But he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"It means," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "that I'm in love with you, Kacchan."

The silence that followed was deafening. Kacchan stared at him, his expression unreadable. Inko gasped softly, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and perhaps, a hint of shrewd calculation. The other members of the crew shifted uncomfortably, averting their gazes.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Izuku stood frozen, exposed and vulnerable, waiting for the inevitable rejection, the confirmation of his deepest fears.

Finally, Kacchan spoke. His voice, surprisingly, was soft, almost hesitant.

"What?"

Izuku took a deep breath, steeling himself for the pain. "I know it's stupid, I know you don't feel the same way. But I had to tell you. I couldn't keep it inside anymore. It was… it was killing me."

He looked down at his trembling hands, unable to meet Kacchan's gaze. He felt a hand gently cup his chin, lifting his face. Kacchan's eyes, no longer blazing with anger, were filled with something Izuku couldn't quite decipher.

"Look at me, Deku," Kacchan said softly.

Izuku reluctantly raised his eyes. Kacchan's face was so close, he could feel the warmth of his breath on his skin.

"You think I didn't notice?" Kacchan asked, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You think I'm that blind?"

Izuku frowned, confused. "Notice what?"

"The way you look at me, idiot," Kacchan said, his voice regaining its familiar gruffness. "The way you stutter when I'm around, the way you practically melt when I touch you. I might be dense, but I'm not stupid."

Izuku's heart skipped a beat. "You… you knew?"

Kacchan nodded. "I suspected. But I didn't want to say anything. I didn't know… if you felt the same way."

He paused, his gaze searching Izuku's face. "And to be honest," he confessed, his voice barely audible, "I was scared."

Scared? Kacchan? The man who faced down villains without flinching was scared of… him?

"Scared of what?" Izuku whispered.

Kacchan's grip on his chin tightened slightly. "Scared of ruining everything. Scared of rejection. Scared of… of admitting that maybe, just maybe, I felt something too."

Izuku's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You… you do?" he stammered, his voice filled with disbelief.

Kacchan rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. "Don't make me say it again, Deku," he grumbled. "It's embarrassing enough the first time."

He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above Izuku's. "Just shut up and kiss me, already."

And Izuku did. He closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Kacchan's in a tentative, hesitant kiss. It was everything he had ever dreamed of, and more. A fusion of longing, relief, and a blossoming hope that maybe, just maybe, his secret melody could finally be sung out loud.

The duet was a massive hit, of course. But for Izuku, the real victory wasn't the chart-topping success, but the realization that his heart's secret had finally found its rhythm, a rhythm that resonated with another, stronger, and equally devoted heart. The stage lights still shone bright, but now, they reflected a genuine joy, a happiness that pulsed through his veins, fueled by the warmth of Kacchan's hand in his and the promise of a love song yet to be written. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear: Izuku Midoriya, the pop star, had finally found his true melody, and it was the sweetest song he had ever heard.