Well, this was the hardest thing I've ever written.
Thanks for hanging around. Enjoy. Check out the ending notes for an omake & I added chapter titles to the others too ;)
Chapter 7: for all the days of my life
You have (119) voicemails pending.
(1)
"Uh, hello? Is this working? Wait, did I hear the beep? Or didn't I? Ugh, why didn't Ochako tell me how this works? Ok, you know what, I'll just–"
(2)
"Ok! I think I got it figured out. I mean, I hope I do. Otherwise, this would be so embarrassing and– oh, oh no, it started already? Why didn't I– ugh–"
(3)
"Hi Kacchan, this is um, Izuku. Well, obviously, it is but just in case! Anyway, can I talk to you? I wanted to yesterday, but I couldn't since I, uh, passed out last night. Not in a bad way, though! Just had a bit too much to drink, that's all... Anyway, uh, yeah, call me back. Please."
(4)
"Hi, this is Izuku. Again. Yup, uh... so, you didn't call? I also tried texting and messaging on LIME but you didn't reply so, here I am. Again. Ha, yeah... Um, it's just that it's really important. Actually, uh, Fujiko-san told me about the– the wedding being called off so... Call me back, Kacchan."
(5)
"Shkkkkkkkkkkkk– Fuck, where's my phone? Ugh, is it shkkkkkkkshkkkkk Oh crap, crap, I need to end–"
(6)
"Kacchan! I'm so sorry. I had too much to drink and I uh, butt-dialed you? Is that still a thing? Or should I call it pillow-dial? Or palm-dial? Since it was technically my palm that hit the call button? Hm... Whatever, um, yeah just ignore that, haha!"
(7)
"Hng... Kacchan, I... Why won't you answer my calls? Hck, did I do something wrong? Hng... why didn't you tell me about the wedding, Kacchan? I'm here for you, you know. I'm your friend..."
(8)
"Hey, Kacchan! So, I heard from Amajiki-san that you're back! Um, that was quick. I thought you were using up your vacation days? Well, uh, haha, I guess that's not my concern. So, if you're free, maybe let's meet up at the usual hang? I... I miss you, Kacchan."
(9)
"Katsuki... Katsuki... Katsuki... Please."
(10)
"Kacchan! Hi! I went to your agency today and I was kinda sad to miss you. Mirko said you got shipped out to a joint mission in Yamagata? Good luck! I know you can do it! Kacchan's amazing after all! Anyway, uh, I just decided to drop your gift at the agency! Since, I don't have keys to your house, haha. So... um, Happy Birthday, Kacchan!"
(11)
"Hi Kacchan! Congratulations on the rise in rankings, again! Ahh, I should really pick up the pace to catch up, heh. Um, anyways, since you're done with that bust operation, um.. are you free on Friday? Dinner's on me? Just call me!"
(12)
"N-no, S-Shoto, hic, it's fiiiine. Oh! Kacchan! Helloooo there! Ah, and before you say anything, I am not drunk. But, ha, it's not like you can say anything since this just went to voicemail. But then again you also didn't say anything about your fiancée so– hey! Shoto–"
(13)
"Ugh... Kacchan? I'm sorry about last night. I dont... remember much? Shoto told me I drunk-dialed you? I guess it's a good thing you didn't pick up... Or is it a bad thing? Ha... Are you still ignoring me, Kacchan? I–"
(14)
"Kacchan, your favorite ramen is the one from Yamada's right? The one that made a 15-scale spicyness for you? Hm... yeah, I think it is! Okay, just wait, Kacchan!"
(15)
"Kachaaan, why did you have to make your hero name so long? Hrn, you know what, I'll just record it–"
(16)
"Um, Kacchan? If Eijirou calls you and, haha, mentions something about Auntie Mitsuki, no need to worry okay? It was just a misunderstanding, I swear!"
(17)
"...Kacchan? Your network provider called me and asked me to stop sending voicemails... I know it was you who called them to stop me, Kacchan. I– What else can I do then? You're not answering any of my calls or texts, and you don't read my messages or mentions in social media! God, at this rate Kacchan I–"
(17)
"Kacchan! Hi! Um, yeah, I know you're busy but you haven't returned my calls and well, just, um, call me back? Please? I really need to talk to you and not just unload everything on a machine, Kacchan. Plus, it's really building up on my phone bill, so please, call me back or I'll be forced to call Auntie and–"
(18)
"Hck... I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kacchan. I don't know what I did, I– was it something I did when I came back? Are you still angry that I left for a month? I thought we– I thought we were already okay... Or is this about Fujiko-san? I'm sorry, I know I don't have a right to butt in your relationship. It's okay, Kacchan, I don't need an explanation I just... I just need you."
(19)
"... I miss you, Katsuki. I miss the beach. I miss the time we spent there. I miss our lunches and dinners and stupid breakfasts. I miss fighting over the bill with you. I miss waking up with you. I miss... I miss you, Kacchan. Can you please, please, call me?"
Katsuki turned his phone off before the next one played, throwing it somewhere on his bed. He groaned as he flopped down, arm thrown over his eyes.
It had been another shitty day.
For the past weeks, it seemed like villains were looking forward to getting blown up, with their insane numbers popping up almost every fucking day. It was one of the reasons he got pulled out of his vacation, ready to jump into the fray.
Though, there was another reason.
That reason being a fluffy-haired nerd with too bright green eyes and a smile that outshines the fucking sun.
Things had been great– fucking amazing– when Deku came back from who knows where. Sure, the nerd was obviously hiding something from him, but he let it slide since Katsuki was hiding something too.
Tit for tat, you know? He doesn't push the shitty nerd for whatever secrets he's hiding, and he gets to avoid the whole wedding topic altogether.
...Right.
Katsuki looked towards his nightstand, his heart clenching at the sight of the velvet box that was once empty and now filled.
"Goddammit," He rubs the heel of his hands into his eyes, willing the burn to go the fuck away because he can't handle any more tears, goddammit.
He's had enough of crying and not sleeping for months already, assholes.
Katsuki leaves the bedroom because there were too many memories there that he couldn't– fuck. Memories of shared whispers and kisses with brown eyes and slender hands haunted the room, making him all pathetic because he couldn't make any of it go away.
But walking out to the living room was a big fucking mistake.
Instead of sweet memories of morning smiles and slow dances, he remembers the fights– their shouts, their tears, voices raw torn and broken. He remembers when they both snapped; when she had asked him the one question he never wanted to hear.
Because he wasn't sure if he was ready for the answer that would spill from him.
Katsuki looked at his finger, and he hated how his heart clenched at how empty it looked. He hated it. After all, he had no right to be hurt because he chose this. He was the one who led them to this.
"Do you love me? Care for me?"
"Yes, fuck yes."
"Do you want to marry me?"
"Yes, of course I fucking do."
A breath.
"...Will you be happy with me?"
.
.
"No. No, I won't."
She looked so fucking lost then like Katsuki had pulled the world under her feet, and in some way, he did. He had never hated himself so much then as he watched the person he loved– the strong woman who had charmed him– break.
"Where do we go from here?"
"I think it's clear where, Katsuki."
"... Fuck."
"Yeah... fuck."
That was two months ago, with Deku going off to the other side of the world for a month-long mission being the icing to the cake.
And Katsuki had never felt so alone.
(He wasn't he wasn't he wasn't, but then why were there phantoms roaming around his house)
So when he managed to wrangle the date from Mirio, he ran– away from the house that had too many memories that suffocated him at every turn, keeping him up at night.
Seeing the stupid nerd with poorly shaven stubble and wild hair stumble through the elevator was like a breath of fresh air. And Katsuki could finally– fucking finally breathe.
That week was the best week he had in months because, well, it was Izuku. His hours were filled to the brim with green everything. The stupid, adorable nerd breathed life into the empty house until memories of fights and morning dances were overtaken by night documentaries and tranquil breakfasts.
Being with Izuku wasn't completely peaches and rainbows, either. Because constantly seeing bright green eyes, and the way the sun's rays played upon the never-ending freckles splattered like paint on a canvas was like rubbing salt on an open fucking wound– it burned.
(Katsuki was used to burning, not the other way around)
Then again, all common sense seems to fly out the window when it came to Midoriya fucking Izuku. Rather than serve as a distraction, spending time with the nerd made everything worse and better at the same time.
(And how the fuck was that even possible?)
Better, because every moment Katsuki spent with Izuku were literal moments of sunshine and fuck that was sappy as shit.
He didn't want to fucking admit it. He didn't. He didn't want to admit that that week he spent going on cheesy dates (not that the stupid nerd knew) made him wake up the next day, forgetting the velvet box on his nightstand and the empty spots in his closet.
In just a week, shitty Deku made him forget– for just a while– the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with. The woman he had shoved a ring in the face and gotten soft kisses in return.
So as much as Katsuki wanted to stay in that bubble of happiness that the nerd effortlessly made (that no one, never, anyone could), where mornings were spent with tea and lazy smiles, and nights spent with cuddles and hero documentaries– he couldn't.
Not when he had already resolved he shouldn't. Not when he still sees those bright green eyes looking at him with fear, with his past self hanging around like a demon with vicious sneers and hands that had hurt, rather than protect.
And no amount of therapy could manage to wrangle those memories and demons from him. No amount of words of forgiveness could make him crawl out of this hole he had settled in– a hole that kept him from reaching up towards redemption.
Bakugou Katsuki may be a prideful motherfucker with an ego the size of Mt Fuji, but even he knew he was beyond redemption.
"Everything's okay, Kacchan. We're going to be okay."
He remembers how he had pathetically clung onto the nerd then, with cries of apologies and begging for forgiveness. And the fact that he hated how weak he sounded already spoke multitudes on how he had leagues to go.
Katsuki still found himself as that pathetic bully who proclaimed himself as a hero while stepping on others' dreams, with his hands capable of only destruction and nothing else because he's nothing but a filthy villai–
"I know, I know, Kacchan. It's okay, it's okay."
It's not, It's fucking not, stupid Deku.
"Idiot. Do you think I'll ever not support you? I'm Kacchan's number one fan, remember?"
You're the idiot, asshole. How can you be the fan of someone like me, you piece of shit.
"I'm the one at fault, okay? Not you. I mean it, Kacchan."
No, no, Izuku, Izuku, it's my fault. It's always been my fault, fuck–
"I miss you, Kacchan."
.
"I miss you too, Deku," He spoke aloud, the words echoing across the empty house.
Tinkles of laughter danced along his ears, the ghost of disfigured scarred hands threaded through his, the ends of soft green wild locks tickling his chin.
Katsuki breathed.
He breathed in the salty scent of the sea, of fresh flowers and sun, of the scent of dust after rain, of lightning and blood, of the musky scent that was uniquely Midoriya Izuku.
He breathed and realized he hadn't been breathing for weeks. He hadn't been breathing since he had driven away, seeing scarred arms wave goodbye. Not since she had called, and he was wrenched out of that happy little bubble.
Katsuki hadn't been breathing since he stopped seeing green eyes and smiles like sunshine.
And fuck, he wanted to breathe again.
He remembered the number of calls and messages that decreased day by day, the nerd's voice slowly cracking with every voicemail.
(He doesn't want to wait for it to break)
"I know you, Kacchan. You aren't the type to go into things without thinking them over. And when you decide on something, you stick by it because you believe it."
He wasn't going to run away anymore.
Were the gods laughing at him? Mocking him? Or bored in wherever they are to play with him like this?
Because Izuku wasn't laughing.
This wasn't funny, no, not in the slightest. Not when the scene was exactly like it was almost a month ago now, and he couldn't help but wonder if everything since then had been a dream.
(But nights spent crying over unanswered calls that left his voice hoarse and his eyes spent wasn't a dream, it couldn't have been. Did dreams hurt this much?)
Kacchan was waiting for him in the agency's lobby, clad in casual designer clothing with a cap that failed to contain his explosive hair.
Izuku almost reached to pinch his arm before stopping himself. Because if he did that again, then that would be repeating this whole thing all over.
It would be repeating the simple lunches, the bickering over dinner bills, the lazy mornings waking in Kacchan's arms, and that would hurt too much. It would make his heart and mind, both already so so strained, collapse in on themselves until even he couldn't pick the pieces up anymore.
But this wasn't a repeat, not really.
Izuku wasn't covered in soot and bruises or still suited up in his hero costume; he was in civilian attire, just finished freshening up and ready to head to the grocery to buy some instant noodles for dinner. Kacchan wasn't cockily heading over, spewing his usual expletives; there were dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes, and Izuku would've thought he looked defeated if it wasn't for the calm determination burning in his eyes.
And to be honest, just the sight of Kacchan after weeks of nothing overrides every ounce of self-preservation he had (not that he had much, to begin with, anyway).
So even if Izuku was stuck in this loop, he'll gladly keep running if it means it would be toward Kacchan.
"Kacchan."
(If he sounded a little breathless when saying his partner's name, no one could prove it)
He found himself on his toes, waiting on Kacchan's response. It was pathetic, and he was acting like a dog, but sue him. He'd always been like that once it came to the blonde anyway.
Kacchan opened his mouth to say something in response– Izuku's heart thumped in anticipation, hungry for nicknames to spill from his mouth; shitty nerd, dork, Deku, idiot, stupi–
"Izuku."
Oh. Oh no.
He wanted to plead with Kacchan to stop, stop, stop calling my name like it was a prayer and looking at me like I held the world in my hands.
If he doesn't stop, Izuku doesn't think he would last in holding back the torrent of years of emotions beating against his walls, threatening to break it open and let everything go.
(He won't, he can't. Not now, not ever)
With practiced hands, he sealed it all back up, wrangling them back into the box he had put under lock and chain. And if doing that made him feel hollow and empty, Kacchan didn't need to know.
Izuku cleared his throat, a nervous smile on his lips. "Um... hi."
He winced. Okay, another not smooth response, Izuku, very nice. He sheepishly looked at the blonde, expecting a snarky reaction like you high or somethin–
"Hi."
He gaped.
"Can we talk?" Kacchan grumbled, crimson momentarily flicking up to green, before looking down at his feet.
It took a solid second for Izuku's mind to reboot before he spluttered, a flush working its way up to his face.
"Um– s–sure, I mean, y–yes, uh, roger that?"
Kacchan rolled his eyes and started walking towards the doors, hands shoved in his pockets. When Izuku showed no signs of following, still frozen and processing his word vomit, Kacchan stopped and looked back, sporting a scowl.
"Oi, get movin' already," He growled, "shitty Deku."
Izuku couldn't help but sigh in relief. Oh, thank god, there's my Kacchan. And then almost immediately tripping over his own feet because not my Kacchan, nope nope nope!
He ducked his head and hastily pushed a cap over his hair as he ran out towards Kacchan, ignoring the curious looks thrown his way. Judging by the heat in his face, he probably looks like a watermelon now.
Izuku caught up to Kacchan (and yes, maybe his heart fluttered when the blonde slowed his pace), opting to leave a reasonable distance between them. Reasonable being almost on the other side of the sidewalk and a few more inches would make him a jaywalker.
Yup, totally reasonable.
Of course, Kacchan didn't think the same, with the now firm grip on his arm keeping him just inches away from the blonde as they walked (dragged, in Izuku's case).
"Um... Kacchan?"
A grunt.
"Uh, where are we going? I thought you wanted to talk? Because I don't think having a talk in the middle of the street or while walking is good since we're pro-heroes and we might bite our tongu–"
"Fuck, can you shut up for once, shitty nerd? Damn."
Silence.
"So... where are we going?"
Kacchan groaned and quickened his pace, cursing under his breath that strangely sounded like stupid therapist, stupid anger management, stupid nerd.
Even though many questions ran through his mind and threatened to spill from him like– where is he taking me? Are we going to have lunch again? Or maybe to his house? Or to the beach?– Izuku kept his mouth shut and let himself be dragged away.
No, he doesn't think he imagines the pitying looks passerbys gave him as they gave the explosive hero a wide berth. He swears he even sees an old man pray for him and a lady's dog pitying him with its eyes.
Well, that couldn't be good.
He looked at Kacchan's back, seeing the line of tension strung tight, his shoulders tense with every movement. Was Kacchan angry? Well, he could be nervous, but Kacchan doesn't get nervous, so that's not it. Did something happen at work? Oh no! What if something happened to mom and Kacchan's trying to lay the news easily–
"Oi! We're here, shitty 'Zuku. Stop your fucking rambling and get us in already."
–that something horribly gruesome happened and– "Eh? In?"
Izuku noticed his surroundings, blinking owlishly at the door to his apartment. Huh. He didn't even notice riding the elevator.
Judging by the unimpressed look on Kacchan's face, he was sure the blonde knew he didn't notice.
Nice, this is definitely the makings of a pro-hero, Izuku. Having zero self-preservation to observe your surroundings, juuust great.
With a sheepish smile at his now-getting-impatient partner, Izuku unlocked the door. He didn't even bat an eye when Kacchan strode in before him, going straight to the kitchen.
Izuku couldn't help but feel a sense of deja vu but shrugged it off.
His senses might be going haywire today.
Okay, his senses were definitely not haywire today.
Because he was definitely sitting on a kitchen stool, a cup of jasmine tea cradled in his hands, with an angry(?) Kacchan aggressively grinding coffee beans across from him with the kettle on.
...Yes, he had already pinched himself to check. No, it was not a dream.
Izuku sipped his tea, eyes not leaving Kacchan, who was pacing across his kitchen and grinding the beans while growling die die die stupid druggie beans.
Since the blonde had demanded (shouted, really) that he sit his ass down, neither of them had said much. Well, other than an occasional contented sigh from Izuku as he drank tea and a grunt from Kacchan when he moved to refill it.
It was like a lifetime before the kettle eventually whistled, Kacchan swiftly pouring it over the grinds, the scent of freshly-brewed coffee filling the space.
(Of course, tea would remain superior for Izuku, but he keeps quiet)
He silently watched as Kacchan leaned back against the counter, brows furrowed as crimson eyes watched the coffee drip into the cup. Rather than anger, varying emotions flitted across his face, some too fast for Izuku to catch.
Some that he did only made him confused (and maybe slightly scared); sadness, pain, resignation.
Why was Kacchan feeling those? Was– was he thinking about her? Was he having second thoughts and wanted to talk to Izuku about it? Oh no, what should he do? Of course, if it made Kacchan happy, then he would gladly dig a grave for his stupid, stupid feelings of hope that keeps coming back and push the love of his life back in another's arms.
That was– that was just how he was.
Izuku wanted to be selfish like others were and fight. He couldn't help but bitterly smile at his thoughts.
If only things were that simple.
If there were gods out there, looking down, he thinks he doesn't like what's happening. He doesn't like how he's been put in the same position again– in his kitchen again, too.
He remembers being crushed against a solid chest, strong arms holding him as he shook, as tears spilled, and he struggled to breathe. He remembers the steady beat of Kacchan's heart as the love of his life held Izuku in his arms, soft murmurs whispered in their little bubble. Izuku remembers. He remembers how crimson eyes looked into his and gave him a choice– handed him the reigns to do what he will.
"You say the word, and I'll call this off."
Izuku remembers, and there's a burn in his eyes. He blinks and blinks and wonders why it was raining as droplets fell into his tea. He wonders why it was raining in his kitchen and why everything was watery, and he couldn't see.
"-ku, Deku? Oi, shitty nerd, what are yo–"
Izuku looks up, and he feels something wet dripping down his cheeks. He absentmindedly wipes it away, and it must've been the rain because it doesn't stop dripping. He catches a look of his reflection in the refrigerator and–
Oh. I'm crying. Why am I crying?
He feels pressure against both sides of his face, and it takes him a couple of seconds to discern it. Izuku almost double-takes at the sudden proximity of Kacchan's face, blatant concern overruling the facade of scowls and anger. It also takes him a second to realize that the blonde was wiping away his tears just like he had that day he found him under the bridge.
(But this time, rough, war-trodden hands were gentle and treated him like glass)
The memory pulls at his heart, and he remembers the promise under the sky that was painted in hues of purples and oranges, the last of the sun's rays touching upon the trees and rocks.
"I'll just marry you. So I can protect you and crap, idiot 'zuku."
Liar.
"De– Izuku, Izuku, please, talk to me. Fuck, why are you still crying, goddammit," Kacchan's voice cracked, his hands taking an almost desperate hold on the greennette's face as he wiped the tears away.
Katsuki was at a loss as they continued flowing like a fucking dam down Izuku's face, and the idiot was still not saying a damn word. He was torn between the impulse to submit to anger (which was a default, at this point) and the need to kiss away the stupid tears that haven't stopped, fuck.
Scarred hands reached up and held his wrists, making the coiling fire of anger simmer down into nothing. Katsuki released a breath he didn't even know he was holding at the touch.
Green eyes shining with tears were looking at him, and he felt the urge to put up his facade and walls because it was always like this.
It was always those fucking eyes of shitty Deku that always always looked through every defense he held up, beating them down seamlessly as if it didn't take Katsuki years to build them up.
Izuku's tears stopped flowing, but his eyes still shone, ready to open the dam again at any moment. He took a shuddering breath, tightening his hold on Kacchan's wrists.
"Kacchan, why... why did you call it off?"
The rough (but gentle, so so gentle) hands on his face froze. And maybe, just maybe, he should've waited for an answer. Waited for Kacchan to form words out no matter how long it took.
But even Midoriya Izuku got tired of waiting for Bakugou Katsuki.
"Why, Kacchan? You two were–" Izuku choked, a sob crawling its way up, "She was the love of your life! And you were hers! So why? Why did you let her go?"
Izuku's sobs wracked his body, but he kept his death-grip on Kacchan's wrists, green on crimson.
"She came to me, you know, after that day at the beach and I–" He bit his trembling lip, "I felt so ashamed, Kacchan. Because I didn't know! I didn't know and I had to hold her because she broke."
Izuku remembers how she looked so much like he did– when he was curled in on his body, arms wrapped around himself, trying to keep himself from breaking apart in the past months as the cream-colored paper with two names and a date remained on his fridge.
"She was the love of your life..." Izuku feels the anger seep out of him, leaving him exhausted. "So, why did you let her go?"
Why did you have to hurt me this way? Why did you have to torment me with the idea of losing you forever? Why did you have to repeatedly break me for months?
Why, why why, why, why
Unspoken questions remained stuck in his throat that had closed up on instinct– the familiar ghost of secrets and lies squeezing its phantom fingers, giving its warning.
Crimson eyes regarded him for a moment, then Kacchan was slipping away from Izuku, scarred hands too caught in the emotional fatigue to keep their hold.
Kacchan's face was contorted into a frown, lips pursed and brows furrowed as if in pain (and maybe he was, Izuku thinks). The greennette sees the deep dark circles, the ashy pallor of his skin, the red-rimmed eyes that looked like they've been rubbed raw.
"He should be going through what I'm going through too."
Katsuki gritted his teeth, clenched and unclenched his sweat-filled palms, unsure of what to do. But no, fuck, that wasn't true.
He knew what he had to do, goddammit. At least, that's what he told himself to force him to stop running the fuck away like a shitty coward.
He looks at Izuku whose eyes shone with tears– a few slipping at the corners– and looking so utterly lost.
His heart stuttered, and he breathed.
Okay.
"She asked me something– during one of our nasty fights. And don't look at me like that shitty nerd. Every couple," He thinks he chokes on the word, "Fights. Even the stupid lovey-dovey ones."
Katsuki rakes a hand through his hair, pacing across the kitchen tiles. If some of his strands crackled and popped, he didn't notice.
"We were both stressed for the wed– the thing and suddenly a misstep turned into shouts and broken plates and then–" He stopped pacing, the aggression building in his body suddenly snapping.
He looked at Izuku, and there was confusion swimming in his green eyes. Still, there was also evident patience– and Katsuki grabs onto it because those stupid, stupid eyes were always the pillar he clung onto.
Softly, quietly, he spoke.
"She asked me if I'd be happy with her. And I–" A hollow chuckle he didn't even know he was capable of producing came out, "I was ready to tell her that yes, of fucking course I'll be happy."
Izuku's mouth was dry, his heart thumping in his ears as he stared at Kacchan. The words left his lips even with the heaviness of his tongue and the tightening grip of ghost-like fingers against his throat.
".. What did you say?"
Crimson eyes heavy with emotion locked with his, and Izuku almost drowned.
"What do you fucking think?"
No. "Oh."
"Yeah," Kacchan chuckled again, and Izuku's heart clenched at the hollow sound, "Oh."
He didn't know what to say to that, not really. Should he be speaking words of comfort? That it wasn't Kacchan's fault for not having his feelings match with hers? Should he be admonishing his partner? Pushing him to realize that this was just a tiny bump in the road and he should fight for her?
Izuku didn't know.
And the fact that he didn't was making him realize there were many things he didn't know about Kacchan. That... maybe it wasn't only him who had a phantom made of lies that hung and maintained a grip around his throat and heart.
That Kac– Katsuki had his secrets too; his demons and ghosts.
"You know I hated her for asking me that."
He couldn't help but gape in shock, not expecting those words of admission. Kacchan was leaning against the kitchen counter, a cold mug of coffee nestled in his hands.
He wasn't looking at Izuku.
"I hated her because I loved her and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, but I couldn't be happy with her. And what the hell was that? I hated how she managed to, out of all the fucking questions in the goddamn world, pick the one that ended us."
The mug shook in his hands. It was set aside, with not a single drop drunk.
"But then, I hated myself more. Because I ended this, goddammit. She may have dug the fucking grave but I was the one who pushed us in it. And all I could think of when she left was fuck, why the hell did I say that?"
Kacchan pushed the heel of his hand in his eyes, head bowed. He was shaking, and Izuku saw a sliver of a tear drop before it was hastily wiped away.
Then he lifted his head and looked straight at Izuku.
"I hate you, Izuku. I hate you, fucking nerd. I hate you, you stupid asshole. I fucking hate you."
It hurt.
It wasn't the first time that Kacchan said those words to him, no. Actually, almost every one of their encounters led to his childhood friend telling him to 'DIE' attached with some expletives and curses. But Izuku knew that those were playful banters and already trademark expressions.
He knew.
This was different, though. Because there wasn't any hint of real anger in Kacchan's voice, no spitting venom, no harshness.
The reason it hurt was that Kacchan's voice sounded so defeated and resigned as if the words he was saying were something he had tried so hard to believe but couldn't.
And Izuku's heart broke just a little bit more when his pillar of victory, his partner, the one constant in his life– the love of his life sounded like he was giving up.
Before he realized it, he was already crossing the space between them, pulling Kacchan into an embrace.
"Kacchan..." Izuku wrapped his arms around the blonde, nestling his head in the crook of Kacchan's neck.
Katsuki tensed, before conceding to the warmth and familiar scent of fresh flowers and sun, of the scent of dust after rain– of Izuku.
He closed his eyes and nuzzled into soft green locks that tickled at his nose, the fresh scent tempting to lull him into sleep. Fuck, everything about Izuku wrapped around him like a blanket and made him feel safe and soft and loved.
Katsuki should hate it. He should hate how with one look, one smile, he was gone– all putty in the hands of the nerd. He should hate how much of the reigns he was handing to Izuku, of resigning everything to him– his heart, his trust. He should fucking hate how the stupid idiot didn't even think to take advantage of it like the thought never passed his mind.
He really really should.
"I fucking hate you," Katsuki murmurs, "I fucking hate how I see your face when I think of being happy."
The greennette in his arms tensed, but he storms through because this was something he wasn't going to run away from. Not anymore. He's spent years of running, and he's fucking tired.
"I hate, hate how the one week I spent by your side taking care of your stupid ass made me–" His voice cracked, and he tightened his hold on Izuku. "Made me the goddamn happiest I've been than the years I spent with her."
Katsuki could feel his traitorous heart beat fast, his breathing ragged.
"So fuck you. Fuck you, Izuku. Fuck you for making me fall in love with you."
He feels the burn in his eyes, and he wants to wipe them away, but he can't– because wiping them away would mean letting go of the love of his life, and he isn't ready for that.
Katsuki knew he'll have to, eventually. When the nerd would give him one of those shitty understanding smiles, stupid green eyes full of sympathy as he turned him down. He knew he'll have to, soon.
His arms tighten around the warm body, burrowing further into green locks that remind him of sunset-colored forests and piggyback rides.
Not yet. Not yet, please.
"I love you." The tears come harder, and his body shakes.
"I love you. I love you. I love you," Katsuki repeats it like a mantra because maybe it is. It's almost a prayer that spills from his lips; a prayer he sent in the past years when the nights make him weak and vulnerable.
A prayer to make his wish come true.
"I love you and I'm sorry, Izuku. I'm so sorry for falling in love with you. I don't fucking deserve to after everything I've done, fuck. I–" Katsuki sobs, and he clutches at the greennette, afraid that he'll be gone.
"I don't know what more I can do to stop it, but I'll try, Izuku. I love you, I love you, and I'm sorry."
And this, Katsuki knows. It's knowledge he'd forcefully carved into his bones, branded on his skin, scratched into his eyes.
Because no matter how many apologies spill from his lips, no matter how many times the love of his life forgives him, it didn't change the fact that it happened. That it left scars on both of them– scars that won't go away with time or with quirks.
He remembers a night filled with stars when he was supposed to reach out and try– because a small hopeful voice pushed him. Hey, maybe it can work out? Perhaps you're still worthy of love, if not redemption?
Then that hope crashes and burns, its ashes scattering in the night air when green eyes had filled with terror and hid behind scarred arms.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I tried, Izuku. I fucking tried stopping this, because you don't deserve an asshole in your life. I tried and tried and I'm sorry–"
Katsuki stops, not because he wanted to but because he couldn't continue.
Izuku pulled away from the embrace, with his hands loosely hanging at Kacchan's hips. Black wisps of smoke trailed along the blonde's back to his neck, wrapping around Kacchan's mouth.
(It was a bit of a cheat, he knows, but he needed to)
Tilting his head back a bit, Izuku looks at Kacchan. For the first time– maybe, in years– he looks at Kacchan.
The love of his life had red-rimmed eyes, crimson pools still shining with tears that flowed disproportionately down his reddened cheeks. Kacchan's nose was red at the tip, the occasional sniffle showing how clogged it was. There was still an ashy pallor to his skin, the dark circles a bit less noticeable with the redness across his cheeks.
Midoriya Izuku looks at Bakugou Katsuki and sees.
He sees the defeated slump in his shoulders, so so different from the usual puff of his chest brimming with unrivaled confidence. He sees the pained expression etched deep into his body, cloaked under scowls and shouts. He sees the deep sea of guilt and regret in crimson eyes, different from haughty ones that shone with mirth and fire.
But most of all, Izuku sees sincerity, and everything stops.
Kacchan loves me.
.
And air comes in, and he breathes.
.
Kacchan loves me.
Izuku feels the choking grip of phantom fingers waste away into nothing, and his heart bursts in his chest until he's filled with a warm giddy feeling.
Was this happiness? Was this love? Whatever it was, Izuku knew it was because of one thing:
Kacchan loves me.
He looks at the love of his life, and flashes– memories– go through his eyes.
He sees the child who shone above the rest and the promises made between them. He sees the teen who left him broken bones and broken promises but still shone effortlessly, and Izuku craved to reach. He sees the boy who cried in his arms and apologies spilling into the sea. He sees the man who declared himself as his hero partner and fought with him over dinner bills, fed him in lazy mornings, and snuggled against him in late nights.
Izuku sees and sees, and all of them come together as one because this was Kacchan. He was the boy he had followed, stumbled after until they were finally walking side-by-side.
"Kacchan loves me."
And the warmth in his chest spreads and surges him to move and reach–
Black Whip dissipates, and suddenly, Izuku was cupping Katsuki's face, a blinding smile on his face, eyes shining brighter than any star Katsuki had ever seen.
Hands led him down, with the warmth of scar-trodden hands that had gone through and given so much, leading him to follow.
"I love Kacchan too." Izuku breathes against Katsuki's lips and moves to close the distance, swallowing the blonde's small gasp, his eyes fluttering shut.
Everything was spinning, and Katsuki thinks he'll collapse like an idiot, but he doesn't. He moves his hands and threads them through green locks, feeling the sigh from Izuku's lips.
For a second, Katsuki thinks this was another stupid dream that would stomp on his heart until it was grounded dust.
For a second.
Then he shifts and angles them, the movement awarding him a soft moan from Izuku. There's something wet that drips into the kiss, and they separate, tasting the salty liquid.
"Fuck," Katsuki scrubs at his traitorous eyes that apparently didn't have a stop-the-shitty-ass crying button because tears continued to fall.
Izuku laughs and wipes the tears away. "Don't cry, Kacchan," He kisses Katsuki's eyelids which fluttered close at the gentle touch.
"'M not crying, you asshole." Katsuki sniffles, solidifying his point.
"Kacchan shouldn't cry anymore," Izuku can't stop smiling. It was infectious that Katsuki doesn't even remember never not smiling as he looked at his partner.
His Izuku.
"You don't tell me what to do, nerd."
"I can tell you I love you, though."
And Izuku laughs when Katsuki blushes, and he feels so light and free when he does. Because he finally can.
My Katsuki.
He reaches to kiss Katsuki's forehead and keeps them close, crimson gazing into green, their breaths mingling.
"And Kacchan loves me?"
Rough but gentle hands cup his face, warmth filling him. Katsuki smiles, and Izuku could only stare.
He could only stare as the corner of Katsuki's eyes crinkle with how his smile stretched wide. He could only stare as crimson eyes shone like one of the stars in the night sky, filling with love for Izuku.
"I do."
omake
[greensunshine] sent a photo.
[urababy]: OMG
[redshark]: woah! Congrats, man!
[redshark]: explosiongod dude!
[meltalien]: ALKDJASKJD CALLED IT! charger YOU OWE ME 5000 YEN
[charger]: aw damn! Fiiine.
[charger]: congrats katsuki-chan!
[meltalien]: please send the 5000 before you die, tnx.
[kerocutie]: congratulations, Midochan!
[shinex2]: ohhh? What's this? Izuku, my congratulations to you both!
[darkbird]: what an interesting development.
[squidward]: musicphile I told you.
[musicphile]: damn. nice one explosiongod
[runner]: ! Midoriya-kun, since when was this development?
[spaghetti]: I'm pretty sure it's just now, Iida. I saw them head out a while ago.
[moneymaker]: Oh! Congratulations! Should I hold a party?
[explosiongod]: shut the fuck up, you shitty extras. We don't gotta answer shit.
[meltalien]: lol baku's already using "we" CUTE
[explosiongod]: fuck off
[greensunshine]: thanks guys! Uh, as much as I want to answer, we still have to talk w
[reflector]: oh? greensunshine you're back? I thought you were staying for real in the US!
[greensunshine]: ...what? Hagakure, what do you mean?
[reflector]: oh? Sorry! I overhead you talking about your transfer during the engagement party. Sorry, i thought everyone knew...
[explosiongod]: the what
[urababy]: THE WHAT
[spaghetti]: what
[explosiongod]: oi reflector shitty nerd's what?
[redshark]: oh crap, bakubro's pissed
[explosiongod] and [greensunshine] are offline.
[charger]: meltalien does this mean i get to keep my 5000 yen?
[moneymaker]: Oh no, should I prepare a funeral, instead?
[spaghetti]: make it double, momo. Izu's going to die twice.
[urababy] changed the chat name to YOU ASSHOLE MIDORIYA IZUKU
[spaghetti]: see?
that's the end, wow. it's my first work since forever, so I hope that those that stuck with this is satisfied, heh. Thanks for the support so far, and I hope you enjoyed riding the angst train with me 3
I'm glad I started with the bkdk because this pairing has so many layers to flesh out from. They're a fuckin gold mine for all kinds of fics tbh they might be my new otp who knows
If you want fluff, you can check out my new work, Cosmic Rivalry!
Since I'm in a good mood, comment your questions, reviews, violent reactions, all shit you wanna comment and I'll reply.