Katsuki has never seen his mom cry before. It's not much, just a few silent tears that she wipes away quickly with a furious look upon her face, but it is enough to rattle him to his core. He watches as she hangs up the phone, then stares at it blankly for a moment, as if expecting it to ring again. He is almost surprised when it doesn't, considering the fact the his mom has been on it all day.
Deku's mom had called the night before, right as Katsuki was getting ready to go to bed, and then his mom had been on the phone ever since. Katsuki scowls, fingers curling to form white-knuckled fists and eyes trained on his mom's weird expression. This is all Deku's fault somehow, he just knows it.
"Katsuki." His mother's voice is scratchier than usual, and so low that he has to strain to hear it.
"What?" His voice is quiet, too, but he doesn't know why. Something about the way his mom's eyes are still glossy makes him worried, makes him scared to be too loud or too mean.
"What was Izuku doing when you left the park last night?"
His scowl deepens at the mention of Deku, but he feels a bit of a smug thrill when he realizes he had been right; whatever is going on is Deku's fault. He shrugs when he realizes his mom is waiting for an answer.
"I dunno. He was just sitting there being useless, I guess. He didn't want to go home."
His mom's lip curls, but she doesn't scold him like she usually would. Instead, she breathes deeply and scrubs a hand through her hair until it sticks up almost as badly as his own. "Do you remember seeing anyone else there with him?"
Katsuki shrugs again. "There's always somebody at the park. That's why Deku's mom lets him play there, 'cuz that means that there's gonna be a grown up nearby." He scoffs. "He's such a baby."
His mom's fist comes down, striking the table hard enough to knock the phone off its receiver.
Whatever he might have said next dies on his tongue at the look on her face. His mom is always yelling and making faces, usually because of him. He's used to anger and frustration and amusement and pride, all flashing across her face whenever the moment strikes, because his mom is the kind of grown up that doesn't hide how she feels. He thought that he had known all the faces she could make, but the one she's making now is new. New and horrible.
"Mom?" His voice shakes. His mom's lower lip trembles, and she clenches and unclenches her jaw. Katsuki swallows around the lump that he can feel forming in his throat. He tells himself that he has to be brave, like All Might, and asks, "What's wrong?"
She moves so fast that for one awful second, Katsuki thinks that she's going to hit him. He flinches back and squeezes his eyes shut, and he thinks, is this how Deku feels?
She doesn't hit him. Instead, he finds himself enveloped in a hug so tight he thinks he might have bruises by the time she lets him go. Her face is all screwed up and ugly, and it makes his tummy hurt to see her like that.
"Let go of me, you old hag," he says without any venom. He doesn't push her away or try to squirm out of her grip. His palms ache. His eyes prickle with heat.
"Shut up, brat," she growls back, squeezing him harder.
They stay like that until his nerves get the better of him and the ache in his hands becomes too much. She doesn't scold him beyond a sharp hiss of his name, pulling back to swat at the fire he's set. She grumbles about having to buy a new shirt, but it's subdued and distant. She doesn't yell or throw a tantrum or tell him that she's going to make him practice until he cries.
Somehow, that's what sets him over the edge. He feels heat spill down his cheeks and his nose start to run. She gathers him close once again and Katsuki can feel the way her entire body shakes.
"What's wrong, mama?" he sobs, scared of how she's been acting and desperate for it to be over. "What's wrong? What's wrong?"
It's more of a mantra than a real question. He can't seem to stop crying, sobbing so hard that his words are barely understandable around his hiccups and gasps for breath. She shooshes him, rubbing gently at his back and ignoring the tiny explosions going off in the tiny hands that are pressed tightly to her back, clutching at the ruined ashes of her blouse. She waits until he has calmed down before she says anything.
"Katsuki," she whispers, pulling back to look him in the eye. Her voice is gentle. He hates the way it sounds. His mom takes a deep breath and says, "It's about Izuku."
sorry it's boring. I'm just trying to make things up as I go.