So here's chapter 3!

This one is also a little shorter than I would have liked, but I didn't want to force this one and chapter 4 together. It just didn't feel right. Plus it would've made for a disparately long chapter…

Sadly no visiting Izuku in this chapter. That's next time, but I have most of it written, so it might even be out as soon as tomorrow! (tbh I had way more ideas for that chapter than for this one, so I wrote a lot of it instead of this one…)

So, yes, I'm sorry because I know a lot of you were waiting for Izuku stuff, but eh… Have some foreshadowing and preamble-y stuff instead.

I hope you enjoy regardless of any tarnished expectations!

Chapter 3: Approaching an Encounter

Despite the fact that Katsuki now found himself capable of the remedial exercise of walking past the building that housed the Midoriya apartment, it was still Friday, and he still had to attend therapy. Even though Katsuki was feeling the best he had felt in months that did not stop the unavoidable edge of anxiety that absorbed him when he thought of his forced sessions.

While it was undeniable that they were beneficial to his mental health, they left Katsuki feeling ragged and worn and always much more emotional. He was closer to that old self in too many ways when he was there.

Luckily at least the sessions by now followed the same standard formatting that Katsuki understood and easily followed.

"Hello again, Katsuki-kun," Dr. Hiruluk greeted as he put his backpack down and took his place on his chair, sideways as usual, as though he had never even left.

"Hello," Katsuki greeted in return. This sort of ease in response at the onset of the session was rather unusual but not entirely out of character.

"So how was this week?" It was always the same questions to begin with.

And for the most part, Katsuki answered in the same fashion every week; however, now was a week of firsts. So instead of an unhappy grunt of everything being the same as always (if he even vocalized at all), Katsuki let out a simple, "Better."

Dr. Hiruluk was clearly taken aback, but his surprise swiftly turned into excited intrigue. "How so?" He asked.

"I did what you asked me to," Katsuki stated lazily, looking at the ceiling with just the barest hints of an honest smile on his lips.

"And?" There was an almost ecstatic sound in the single-word question. "Did you talk with someone at school?"

"W-well I did," Katsuki relented. His smile dropped from his face as he thought of that first disastrous attempt at conversation. "I tried. At first."

When it became apparent that Katsuki was becoming too withdrawn into his headspace and would not be offering anything more without a little prompting, Hiruluk offered a subtle prodding, "Go on."

"Well," Katsuki sighed before his thoughts burst out in a rush from his mind and mouth. "It was the girl who sits in front of me, and so I thought I might as well, you know, try to talk to her if I was gonna talk to anyway. She was there, and I just thought that she seemed like she'd be easy to talk to. She's not annoying or super shy or mean or well, I guess, she was pretty average, so I would just talk, and that would be that, and if it didn't work out then at least I tried right? But I…

"You?" Dr. Hiruluk was leaning forward in his seat, utterly invested in hearing what Katsuki's ventures in middle school socialization would result in.

"I fucked it up," he ground out, teeth clenched tight as he remembered how he grabbed her wrist. 'So fucking stupid.' "I couldn't even talk to one girl without making a stupid mistake. And afterwards…

"Afterwards, I couldn't even apologize. I was useless. She asked the teacher to switch seats the next day so now this other chick with hair that can reach the ceiling sits in front of me. She's obnoxious, but at least the other girl seems happier. I still catch her sometimes looking over at me as though she's scared I'm gonna beat the shit out of her or something…" Katsuki would be scared of himself too.

Dr. Hiruluk sighed, disappointed that his recommendation seemed only to hurt the boy's interactions and attitude towards them. "I'm sorry that you couldn't connect with your peers Katsuki. These things take time. She clearly just wasn't the right fit, but maybe next time, you'll find someone who you can connect with better."

"Hmm," Katsuki hummed in what may have been agreement. He wasn't at all convinced that anyone would willingly become friends, but maybe someday he'd get to the point where his classmates weren't scared if he so much as said a single word to them. Ha!

"But what else happened?" Dr. Hiruluk interrupted Katsuki's thoughts before they ran too bleak. "You said that this week was better, so what happened that made it that way?"

"On Thursday. So yesterday I guess." Katsuki squirmed in his seat and ran a hand through his hair, a different lighter sort of nervous energy zapping through him. "God! It feels like it was forever ago now. Well, I've been walking by th-the Midoriya's apartment building since that shit with the girl in my class happened on Monday, and on Thursday I was walking past, or through, I guess, or not really walking but just you know hanging around, and uh, Mrs. Midoriya saw me."

"And how did that go?"

"She was. She," Katsuki licked his lips, anxiety creeping in to take the place of that happier nervousness. "She was nicer to me than anyone's been in months. She invited me in for tea and offered to let me stay the night, and I must have said sorry a thousand times and thanked her almost as many, and she was just-

"It was like nothing had changed. She accepted me, she hugged me, like nothing had ever gone wrong. I didn't deserve it, but it didn't matter to her. She's always been like that, but the fact that she was still that way towards me of all people, I just… She's too nice. But it really helped. I needed her, and I hadn't even realized it."

"And how did she seem to feel afterwards?" Dr. Hiruluk wondered.

"I. I want to think that I helped her too." That was his only hope. "We were both crying. And I think we were the only ones who could really understand, you know. Like, no one else still remembers it, still feels it like we do. And yeah, it was like nothing had changed, but there was still that knowledge that for us, and only us, everything had changed."

"Mm," the doctor hummed in quiet agreement.

Dr. Hiruluk didn't begin his next line of questioning immediately even though his curiosity was thoroughly piqued. Katsuki needed the quiet more right here and now, so they sat in silence for a moment, a necessary hush.

"She invited me to go see him tomorrow," Katsuki eventually offered without any prompting outside of his own mind.

"Oh?" More than anything else that had been said, Dr. Hiruluk was sincerely taken aback by that.

"Yeah," Katsuki didn't know what else to say about it.

"And are you?" the doctor asked.

"I told her I was gonna go, but now," Katsuki hesitated, licking his lips once more. "Now it's taken time to settle, and I just don't know if I should. I- It's hard to explain, but I'm not sure if I'm allowed- Or I guess I don't know if I can- Or… I don't really know."

"Do you want to go?"

"I-I guess I…" Katsuki sighed. "Yeah…"

"Do you think Mrs. Midoriya wants you to go?"

Katsuki scoffed at that ridiculous question. "She would never say no if I said that I really wanted to. Besides, she wouldn't have offered if she didn't want me to come."

"And," Dr. Hiruluk leaned forward in his chair, glasses glinting where they perched on his nose, already knowing the answer to his next question, but needing Katsuki to hear the answer as well. "What about Izuku? Do you think he would want you to go?"

Katsuki's breath hitched as he reeled a bit in shock. "I-" It came out as more of a gasp. He took a rattling breath. "Yeah, I think he would."

"And there's your answer," the doctor concluded. "I think this visit is more about what he deserves then what you think or worry about. Your feelings are important, and I'm not trying to diminish them, but in this case, I think you must defer to Izuku's desires."

"I- I guess it's the least I can do," Katsuki relented.

"That's all we ever ask."

Katsuki looked up at his therapist at that, and the two shared a sincere and secret smile. He felt lighter than he had in months, maybe even years.

Despite the ease he had felt in talking during therapy that day and the joy he had experienced when Dr. Hiruluk had said that if he continued with his current rate of progress, they might begin meeting every other week, despite all that, Katsuki still felt the ripples of anxiety and self-deprecation as the sun began to set.

It always got harder when the sky lit up like an explosion before falling into the dark abyss of death. The clouds covered all the stars tonight, making it even darker.

His thoughts always fell into the same line of darkness, wandering into the deep parts of his mind that Katsuki never enjoyed touching but always made themselves known at night. It was harder to believe in the possibility of change, of improvement, when the whole world seemed so dark and empty.

It got worse when it finally came time for Katsuki to lay in his bed and attempt to sleep, utterly alone with his thoughts.

He tossed and turned for a few hours, often staring blankly, unseeing, at his ceiling. He was able to stop thinking for those moments when he was looking straight up, but it was a stagnant facade at peace; there was no true rest in it. Whenever his eyes sank shut, the thoughts would come rushing back, bolting him into uneasy awareness straight away.

He could not ignore his thoughts. After a while, he decided to relent to the futility of the exercise and picked himself out of his bed.

Katsuki pulled on a pair of loose black sweatpants to go with the sweatshirt he was already wearing, needing something more comfortable than the slacks of his uniform that he usually wore. He shoved his hands deep into pockets alongside his phone, wallet, and house keys before making his way as quietly as possible out of his room and through the front door.

It was too early, before anything was open, but Katsuki liked that at least the birds were out. There was more to look at out here before the early dawn than inside the dark, small, enclosed space of his room.

His meandering through mind brought him to the school building (where he turned rather melancholy), around to the park (where he watched the sun begin to peak over the horizon), and back towards his house before he thought it was late enough to go to the Midoriya apartment.

It was still rather early, just after sunrise, but Inko had never specified when it was Katsuki should arrive. His reasoning told him to get there as early as possible in order to not inconvenience her; his nerves told him not to show at all in order to not inconvenience her.

He counted the stairs going up to the second floor of the apartment building a grand total of five times to pass a few more minutes before finally coming to stand in front of the door to the Midoriya's apartment.

He spent a couple more minutes just staring at it, noting the worn edges, the scuffed paint that had worn away from younger hands bursting through the door in excitement. Katsuki had caused many of those blemishes himself.

He raised his hand to knock. Then brought it back down. Looked at it. Sighed. Brought the hand back up. Sighed some more. Repeated this several times.

Finally he brought the fist up with such vigor that he practically punched the door in an effort to knock before he was overcome by the weight of his own thoughts once again. He winced at the hard crashing sound his fist made before knocking in a more uniform matter a bit more politely.

It took another few moments before the door was answered. Fucking great! He had clearly interrupted something.

"Katsuki-kun!" Inko gasped as she caught glimpse of him.

He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "Um hi. Er, I guess I mean, good morning Mrs. Midoriya."

"You're here early," she commented simply, looking a bit worried as she glanced him over, trying to ensure that nothing was outwardly wrong with the boy.

"Uh, yeah," Katsuki agreed. He didn't know what to do or say. He had clearly made a mistake, or maybe she hadn't really been serious when she invited him, or…

His thought were full of possibilities as silence spread between them. Inko didn't comment on his sweatshirt even though she clearly recognized it. They both lingered in the silence of their own raging thoughts for just a moment.

This time it was Katsuki who broke the silence, fumbling for words to explain his actions. "We never really picked a time to meet, so I didn't know, and I couldn't sleep, and I-"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Inko quietly assured. "Why don't you come in?"

Katsuki let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you."

"Of course." What else was there to say?

He followed her through the hallway to the living room once more before they came to stop in silence again. Inko turned to face him once more, but instead of speaking, she pulled him into a warm hug.

It was shorter, less charged with emotion than the other day's had been. It was a simple sort of thing that shouldn't have meant as much as it did for Katsuki.

"What was that for?" He asked after their arms had fallen back to their sides.

"You just looked like you needed it," Inko said as though it were as simple as that. For her perhaps it was, but to Katsuki, deprived of affection from others (and often his own mind as well) as he was, those simple tender embraces meant the world.

"Thanks…" Emotions tightened his throat, but they were light and happy and content.

Inko smiled easily. "You can just lay down on the sofa for a bit while I make us some breakfast, alright?"

"Mm," Katsuki hummed in agreement as Inko walked towards the kitchen.

He took off his shoes before laying down across the cushions, his mind now so much more at peace than it was in his house. And wasn't it sad that he felt more at home here in a place he had only visited twice in these past few days as he had in as many years?

Katsuki didn't mind so much that he felt displaced in his own home when he was so content in this one, so he quickly dozed off, finally able to sleep.

Inko covered him in a blanket when she came to check on him and postponed breakfast for another couple hours.

When Katsuki did eventually wake, it was to Inko gently shaking his shoulder. He felt so much more refreshed even though he had only been able to sleep for just over two hours. He was also famished.

Breakfast was a slow, quiet affair, the weight of the knowledge of where they would be going hanging heavily over the table. It wasn't silent in an awkward sort of way, but rather it was a necessary hush, each too lost in their own world to talk aloud with the other.

Katsuki finished his food at the same time as Inko. He could have eaten more, but his desire to be as unimposing as possible beat any semblance of hunger.

They didn't bother lingering around the house. They both knew that trying to pretend they didn't know what was coming would make it impossible to really relax. There was no point in trying to act like the day was going to be normal.

They walked to the train station and were on their way before ten o'clock even hit.

By the time they reached their destination, Katsuki was regretting every life choice that had led him to where he was. He was half a second away from running down the unknown streets, getting lost in the city, and never, ever returning.

It was only the solid presence of Midoriya Inko that kept him attached to reality, tethered to the necessity of what he was about to do.

Katsuki took a deep breath of fresh air before he sacrificed himself to the bland white walls and artificial purity of the hospital.