Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Please, take a seat.”

Like always, Fukuma motioned to the plastic chair and the velvet chair, inviting Katsuki to choose whichever he preferred, despite his sitting in the plastic one for almost three months. And for the first time in nearly three months, Katsuki paused and hesitated.

After Hawks’ special meeting the week before, Katsuki had trouble sleeping. Todoroki’s words endlessly ricocheted in his mind, not allowing him a moment’s rest. No matter how hard he worked during the day or how much he pushed himself, he was never exhausted enough to fall straight asleep and ended up thinking about her, her, her.

The worst of it all was that it felt like Todoroki’s dumb fucking words had unearthed the love-struck teenager Katsuki had done his utmost to bury deep within his heart, not allowing him or any of his softness to rise back up. It was that fucking teenager’s love and kindness that had gotten him in this mess in the first place, thinking all he had to do was love her as hard as he could, and happiness would ensue - surely, they would be happy if Katsuki loved her like the flowers adored the sun.

As it turned out, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

And so Katsuki slept late and woke early, just so he could think about something else - anything else. He didn’t understand why the fuck he thought so much about her all of a sudden - although he heavily suspected the fucking therapy to be responsible for that.

So he tried to distract himself. He tried recipe after recipe at home in preparation for Kitchen Heroes episodes and sent pictures and summaries to Satou and Igaki, asking them for feedback. He worked on his own solo project, researching and gathering as much data as he could to back his idea up so that fucking Igaki would have no choice but to accept it. 

And he practised the drums, every morning, waking up a little earlier each time and playing a little harder, until he was drenched with sweat, makeup smudging down his cheeks, and his entire upper body strained under the effort.

Except when his practice was followed by therapy, the adrenaline quickly left his system until he sagged in the uncomfortable plastic chair. He’d made a point of sitting there so far - because fuck it, why would he get comfortable when he knew this was temporary? And why would he give Fukuma the satisfaction of knowing he was letting his guard down?

But right now, after the past week’s emotions and how exhausted he was -

Katsuki pointed at the cream-coloured velvet chair, throwing Fukuma a scalding, don’t-you-fucking-dare side-glance. “Is it okay if I sit there?”

Fukuma’s eyebrows rose ever-so-slightly, the only sign of surprise. “Of course - please.”

Already furious with himself, Katsuki sat down - ah motherfuck, the chair was really comfortable. It had nothing to do with the plastic chair. It made him so inexplicably mad, he wanted to kick the white chair.

“So - how are you feeling today? How was your week?” Fukuma began, the way he always did.

Katsuki shrugged. During their first sessions, he was always taken aback by these two simple questions, but now he was used to it. 

“Good. A bit tired. I had a lot on my plate and many things to deal with. I found out the other assistants had bullied Nakao, and probably all the other assistants before her. I did some digging, and it turns out that when I arrived at the agency, because I was stricter than the other heroes, the assistants who weren’t working properly got sacked. And now that we’re understaffed, the ones we have are clinging to their job and ensuring we don’t recruit so they don’t meet the same fate.”

“Sounds extreme,” Fukuma commented.

“Right?” Katsuki replied with a roll of his eyes, settling in the chair - shit it was really comfortable. Goddammit. “So now I have to meet with Kamui Woods this week to discuss the issue, ‘cause we can’t stay like that just because a bunch of idiots are afraid of me. I mean was it so wrong of me to ask them to do their damn job?”

He sighed, annoyed.

“And now the whole agency is suffering because of me. I guess… I guess I could have phrased things a bit more nicely. But I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, back in UA we used to ask the Support Department for many things and they barely blinked whenever we nitpicked all the little details.”

His nails dug into the velvet armrests without noticing, scratching the soft fabric mechanically.

“Anyway. So there was that. And there was a special hero meeting -” Tried as he might, he couldn’t help pursing his lips at the memory, his words snarled in a way that made his displeasure obvious “- and Satou and I hosted the first episode of our cooking show.”

“Ah yes, ‘Kitchen Heroes’. A lot of people are talking about it, I've heard. How did it go?”

Katsuki shrugged, his eyes darting about nervously.

“It went okay,” he slowly replied. “We invited Kirishima to star as a guest. He's my best friend, so it was easy for me to pretend everything was normal. My fucking PR manager said we broke a record of audience in our category, but that's -” 

He sighed impatiently and shrugged again, running a hand through his hair. 

“That's just because our show is new. The testing footage Igaki leaked made people curious, and now they want to confirm if it's interesting or if it's just a passing fashion. If we don't have the same audience for the next three episodes, our show will be cancelled.”

Fukuma flipped a notebook page, now half-filled with notes from Katsuki's sessions.

“What would happen if your show was cancelled?”

Katsuki blinked. Was he fucking dumb, or was he just trying to get on Katsuki's nerves?

“Oh well not much,” he sneered, gripping the armrests. “Just, you know, the entire fucking country would get another reason to think I'm a fucking failure, but aside from that, no biggie.”

Dumbass. And here Katsuki thought he could trust him enough to relax around him. He should have sat on the plastic chair.

Fukuma flipped another couple of pages, before he paused on one of them and ran his pen along the margin, seemingly looking for something.

“Do you truly think people would judge a hero so harshly for something that isn't technically related to his job?”

“This is Japan,” Katsuki scoffed. “If I fail, it'll follow me around for years. Don't you remember when people discovered Laundry Hero Wash's detergent brand damaged clothes three times faster than any other brand? He dropped seven places behind in the Hero Billboard Chart JP and he never recovered.”

He shook his head, his nails digging further into the chair's fabric.

“It has to succeed,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Fukuma. “I can't suffer another failure.”

He heard Fukuma flip some pages and scribble some notes, humming in response.

“When you were a child, would you say you were good in school?”

Katsuki frowned, startled by the question, before he shrugged. “Sure. Things were always easy to learn, I could never understand how other kids struggled at school in the first place.”

“Would you say you were gifted?”

Another shrug. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And how did your parents react to your academic results?”

Katsuki cocked his head to the side as he made an effort to remember properly.

“At first they were just really proud,” he slowly began, his eyes lost in the past, brow furrowed. “I always ranked first in my class, no matter the subject. Teachers would praise me and I was always the example to follow. Then -”

He quirked his mouth to the side as memories bubbled up.

“Then at the end of elementary school, my grandma told me I needed to learn how to learn. I didn't understand what she meant at first, but she said if I relied too much on my capacity to remember, everything would crumble once I reached high school. And since I wanted to go to UA, I made an extra effort to push my limits. I signed up for as many extra-curricular activities as I could until my timetable was packed.”

He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at the memory of these early years.

“At first, I was completely overwhelmed. I realised my grandma was right, I had no discipline, I couldn't handle a timetable and I had no idea how to learn. Everything was always easy, I never had to struggle to be the best. So, yeah, the first bad grades I had were… painful. And my parents and teachers didn't miss an opportunity to point it out.”

“How bad were these grades?” Fukuma asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Katsuki pouted a little. “Eighty, eighty-five,” he admitted before he rolled his eyes. “I know that technically, they're not bad grades, I'm not a fucking idiot. But after years of grades never lower than ninety-five, it was difficult to accept.”

He sighed, eyeing one of the pot plants, its leaves gently swaying under the warm early September air. 

“And my parents and teachers didn't make it an easier pill to swallow either. My damn mother kept pestering me and saying stuff like if I wasn't capable of dealing with such a small pressure then maybe being a hero wasn't for me. My teachers kept saying how disappointing it was of me to allow my grades to slip, and how much of a waste of potential it would be if I kept it up. I remember thinking it was fucking unfair, to be told off for the same grades the other extras were being praised for.”

“And your father?”

“He… well he wasn't as harsh as my mom,” he conceded. “But he saw how much it bugged me, so he encouraged me to try harder. But that meant that anytime he caught me playing or relaxing, he would serve me a fucking speech about how slacking off wasn't gonna help me reach my objectives”

Fukuma slowly nodded, holding his chin between his fingers.

“Do you blame them for their behaviour?”

Katsuki thought about it for a moment before he sighed.

“No,” he eventually replied. “I became who I am thanks to them, I've come so far because they pushed me relentlessly. I just -”

He shrugged, a bittersweet feeling spreading in his heart.

“I just wished they'd also taught me how to fail sometimes. Maybe it would have made life a little less painful if I could accept that sometimes… despite your best efforts, things just don't go your way. No matter how hard you try.”

—

When Katsuki arrived at the agency on Monday, part of him felt nervous about hearing what his colleagues would say about Kitchen Heroes first official episode. 

He knew he shouldn't - why would he care about what a bunch of extras would have to say about his show? He worked hard to ensure everything would work out perfectly, he didn't need anyone's validation.

… But still. He needed a win. A real win. Not a half-assed buzz triggered by the public's surprise over some leaked footage.

He was fairly confident though. Satou and he didn’t choose Kirishima as their first guess for nothing. He was fun and energetic, willing to learn and to play the camera's game. Besides, he had already gathered a large male audience and was one of the most popular heroes with such followers, which was an audience bracket both Satou and Katsuki still struggled to appeal to - what with Satou's sweet tooth and Katsuki’s past PR manager's shoeboxing.

And last but not least, Kirishima was Katsuki's best friend. He knew exactly how to react to Katsuki's jabs and snaps, how to turn his bite into jokes and listen to Katsuki's comments, no matter how he phrased them.

Kirishima even went off-script in the best possible way, according to Igaki. As they prepared their recipe for tempuras, he explained he'd chosen this dish because, when he was in secondary school, he and his friends used to stop by this old man's tiny restaurant that sold cheap tempuras and ramen. One of Kirishima’s friends had no pocket money because his family struggled, so he couldn't afford to stop by cafes or burger places. They would put what little money they had together and spend it all to stuff their faces, happy to be together. Whenever he ate tempuras, he thought of his middle school friends and the good times he shared with them all.

Katsuki, Satou and the whole filming crew listened with interest, surprised but glad to hear the explanation.

But just because Katsuki enjoyed Kirishima's story didn't mean the audience would. Which was why he was nervous to hear what other people would have to say.

Katsuki stepped inside the open space, his gaze quickly surveilling his colleagues. On his way out, one of them locked eyes with him, a wide grin splitting his face.

“What's up, Daddy?”

Katsuki jolted and froze.

He barely had time to blink, and four other colleagues laughed out loud, as if they all shared a very funny joke.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Katsuki blared, his eyes wide as he turned to glower at the fucker.

But the man just laughed again and went down the stairs, out for patrol. Katsuki whirled back around, but before he could bark at the group of idiots what the hell that was about, Igaki swaggered into the open space, walking like he was the next fucking emperor of Japan.

“Ah, Dynamight, perfect timing,” he drawled, his jewels jingling with each step. “I was hoping to catch you before your patrol. I have good news for you.”

Still astonished by whatever the fuck had just happened, Katsuki followed him in silence, looking above his shoulder at the group of sidekicks. Their gaze remained on Katsuki, snickering among themselves.

Ill at ease, Katsuki tried not to dwell on it. It was probably nothing but some dumb fucking private joke they shared. Nothing more.

They entered one of the few reunion rooms and Igaki sat opposite Katsuki, motioning at the chair facing him. “Sit.”

“Don't fucking tell me what to do,” Katsuki grumbled, still pulling the chair to sit down.

Igaki rolled his eyes at Katsuki's comment before a shit-eating grin spread on his face. “Have you been on social media since this weekend?”

Katsuki shook his head. “I was busy.”

“Shame,” Igaki commented, his grin widening in a way that did little to reassure Katsuki. “Because since Kitchen Heroes first episode aired, your fans have found a new nickname for you.”

Confused, Katsuki frowned at him as Igaki pulled his phone out and handed it out to him. Katsuki took it carefully and dared a glance, apprehension filling his mind. A video played on a loop, showing a part of the last episode where Katsuki nagged Kirishima about the importance of properly washing his hands before handling food.

And right below, among the various hashtags, Katsuki read “#Daddynamight”.

“Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me,” he snarled, almost throwing the phone back to his owner like the damn thing was infected.

“You don't like it?” Igaki snickered.

“Fuck you.”

Igaki just cackled, swiping left and right on his screen. “Wait, these are personal favourites of mine: “Daddynamight could blow my back and call me a naughty boy, and I’d still thank him afterwards”. No, you don’t like it? How about: “Waiting every day for Daddynamight to correct my table manners and tell me not to put my elbows on the table” - look, they’re almost butt naked. Oh wait, this one is gold: “What do we say when Daddynamight - ”

“Alright, alright enough!” Katsuki barked, his ears and neck growing uncomfortably hot. What the fuck were people thinking? How the fuck did they watch Katsuki snarl like a goblin and think “Damn, I wish he’d be rude to me too”? Shit, that was what happened when extras were given too much free time.

Igaki snorted at the look on Katsuki’s face as he locked his phone and placed it face-up on the table. “You should be happy, these reactions are perfect.”

“Perfect? Perfect? How is that perfect?” Katsuki snapped, his face contorted into an outraged grimace. “I’m still being treated like a fucking piece of meat!”

But Igaki just clicked his tongue, like Katsuki was a particularly dense kid. “You’re being treated like an adult - not a young man, not a playboy. An adult man. Sure, you’re still desirable to your audience, but soon you’ll no longer be held to impossible standards. You’ll be able to date anyone and make mistakes without the media being in an uproar. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Katsuki grunted in annoyance but said nothing. He wanted to be left the fuck alone, is what he wanted - but he had a passing feeling that if he told Igaki as much, he’d give him his fucking condescending smirk and comment that he should have chosen another profession then.

“Is that what you wanted to show me?” Katsuki grumbled, glaring at the phone like it was responsible for the fucking nickname. “‘Cause in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not just spending my days waiting for you to waltz in, I’ve got a fucking job to do.”

Igaki rolled his eyes once again and sighed. “As always, a pleasure to converse with you,” he pointed out in a bored voice before he crossed his legs. “But no, that’s not why I’m here. I’ve got another partnership offer for you.”

Surprised, Katsuki’s frown deepened even more, making Igaki snicker.

“Relax, I’m not gonna have you naked. Although -”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Katsuki warned him through clenched teeth, glaring daggers at the fucker.

“Hear me out,” Igaki insisted, palms raised but still fucking snickering at Katsuki. “I knew you’d react like that so I didn’t want to lead with this specific offer. To be clear, the partnership I wanted to tell you about was with the same jewellery brand that works with Hawks. They wanted you to be the face of their spring collection and asked to meet for a photoshoot.”

Katsuki scoffed humorlessly. “And they need me naked for their fucking jewels because…?” 

Igaki shook his head. “They don’t. These are two separate offers, the first one - the reason I came in person - is the jewellery photoshoot. I told them we could meet this morning.”

“You do realise I’m supposed to fucking work, right?” he snarled, his indignation growing - the absolute fucking nerve of that guy was reaching new heights with every passing day.

“Do you?” Igaki asked nonchalantly, shrugging like it didn’t matter whether Katsuki wanted to go or not. “Your assistant had no trouble moving your timetable around when I asked her. I gotta say, she’s grown more confident lately. It took her a while, but she’s getting there.”

Katsuki groaned aloud and cursed himself for training Nakao a little too well. Well, he couldn’t really say he had anything to do with it. As soon as he’d begun teaching her, he’d confirmed that the girl was insanely smart, remembering every little detail he mentioned and never making him repeat anything twice. 

Unfortunately for her, her colleagues were pieces of shit who’d left her to her own devices. And, because he didn’t bother to ask earlier, Katsuki had been an asshole with her.

“When is it?” he asked with a resigned sigh.

“In an hour. We can even get there earlier if we leave soon.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes and observed the arrogant prick facing him. “Why are you so damn eager to visit them?”

Igaki shrugged, but his face still split into a toothy grin. “I might have negotiated to receive jewellery from them, monthly.”

“For me?”

“For me. ”

Of motherfucking course. Katsuki rolled his eyes before he threw him a scalding glare. “So I'm not getting naked for them, right?”

Igaki picked an invisible piece of lint from his suit - what the fuck was up with that, the thing was constantly spotless but he was still picking at it all the damn time. 

“Not for them, no.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth, his skin already crawling with apprehension. “Out with it then,” he spat.

Igaki slowly leaned forward, his hands joined in a way that reminded him of Fukuma.

“There is a calendar project that will be launched at the beginning of October,” he gently explained, like Katsuki was a cornered animal that must be handled very carefully. “There will be twelve heroes, one for each month. Six well-known heroes and six promising sidekicks. And you've been chosen among the hundreds of candidates to represent one of these six sidekicks.”

Katsuki's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He didn't relax or uncross his arms though - just because fucking Igaki was slyly trying to butter him up didn't mean he forgot about the naked part.

“And who exactly is organising this?” If it was some half-assed project led by a bunch of greedy perverts -

“A charity group called ‘Glimmer of Hope’. They collect funds to help families from modest backgrounds with food and clothing for their children so their schoolmates won't bully them for being too poor.”

… Well fuck him then.

“I've looked into them,” Igaku continued with the smirk of someone who knew he already won. “They're very transparent with the use they have for the money raised every time they create an event like this one. And, they've already received a few positive responses. Care to know which hero agreed to take part in their project?”

Katsuki sighed and motioned at him, already defeated.

“Mirko confirmed her participation,” Igaki listed, counting on his fingers, “along with Fat Gum and Midnight. Since the latter did, I expect Mount Lady to join any time soon. Endeavour has also confirmed he'd be participating. Yes, I know,” Igaki added when Katsuki's eyes grew wide with surprise. “He's not the one I would have thought would want to strip for charity, but I guess he needs to boost his image as our Number One Hero, especially with Hawks on his tail. Ah, Pinky, Red Riot and Creati also confirmed their participation.”

“What?” Katsuki blurted out, stunned before he finally cracked a smile. “Why the hell am I even surprised that those two would be the first to say yes to show off their asses?”

Igaki arched an eyebrow. “Friends of yours?”

Katsuki nodded and scoffed in amusement. Knowing those two would be part of that weird-ass charity project made the whole thing seem just a little less repulsive. But still -

“Others are expected to give their reply within the week,” Igaki added matter-of-factly, like he was talking about the weather and not Katsuki flashing his dick on a fucking calendar. “They expect Hawks and Mount Lady to answer shortly, and they're still waiting for Chargebolt and Loki to confirm their participation.”

“Chargebolt?” Katsuki replied, his smirk growing wider.

“Chargebolt,” Igaki confirmed. “He is insanely popular among the younger audiences, for his good looks and cheerfulness. They love how easily approachable and down to earth he is, they relate to him.”

Katsuki nodded, an odd pride warming his chest. For all his insecurities, Kaminari was proving to be growing into one of the most promising sidekicks of their generation.

He remained quiet for a moment, mulling over the idea. He liked the idea of participating in an action to help families with small purses. He knew it would have been a massive relief back in high school for - for -

He pushed the name to the back of his mind. Not the time.

“How naked are we speaking?” he slowly asked, his smile gone and his scowl deeply set.

“Well from what I've gathered, not necessarily fully naked,” Igaki replied enthusiastically, already pulling his phone out to, Katsuki knew, type a draft of a response for Glimmer of Hope. “They want heroes to be recognisable without giving away their identity. Besides, I know heroes like Endeavour won't be naked - he'll be in shorts and a tank top at best. He's a father, so I don't think his kids would be too happy to see his ass everywhere they go, and it would be weird for his audience to see him flash his family jewels. So for you -”

He paused his typing and considered Katsuki intently, his eyes bouncing across his face and body in a way that made Katsuki so nervous he could have punched him just to force him to look away.

“I guess I could ask your designer to prepare a specific mask for you,” he said slowly, rubbing his chin. “Something less bulky than your actual mask. Ah -” He snapped his fingers, his goat-like eyes widening. “We could use the same makeup as the one you practise the drums with! It’ll be a nice narrative thread between the two, don’t you think? We could even have our make-up artist paint lines similar to your hero costume on your body.”

“So I would end up naked,” Katsuki concluded, his teeth clenched hard.

“Not necessarily,” Igaki retorted with a roll of his eyes, clearly reaching the end of his patience. “It’s still an event held for charity, they want to be suggestive but not explicit. If they wanted to see private parts exposed, they would have asked porn stars to model.”

Katsuki grunted and said nothing else. Well if he wasn’t fully naked… maybe, maybe he could do that. For charity.

He sighed and made a face. Fucking great. Now, he was flashing his ass for charity. Perfect.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” Igaki added when he saw the petulant look on his face. “Just think about it for now, okay?”

Katsuki just groaned, already dreading the whole thing. He didn't move though and studied Igaki instead. Maybe this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. Hell, maybe he could somehow trick him into thinking he wouldn’t participate in either the calendar photoshoot or the jewellery one if he didn’t get his project approved. Only one way to find out.

Igaki squinted his eyes at him and cocked his eyes to the side, his jewels jingling lightly.

“What’s wrong with your face, you look like you’re about to take a shit.”

Exasperated, Katsuki rolled his eyes and sighed. For real, fuck this guy.

“I also want to talk to you about something,” he grumbled.

Igaki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh?”

Katsuki just glared at him for a second.

Here goes nothing.

“I wanna launch a sports brand.”

In front of him, Igaki didn’t move and just held his stare, impassive.

“I’ve done some research,” Katsuki continued, his tone almost defensive - if the son of a bitch thought he would just arrive empty-handed, he had another thing coming. “There are many hero-themed sports brands out there, the most popular being All Might’s, of course. But all of them are either designed for those without any physical meta manifestation, or for a specific part of the population - like people bearing horns,” he added with a nod in Igaki's ram-like horns’ direction.

As soon as he did, Igaki's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and although his curious smirk stayed in place, his eyes grew colder. Aware that he might have struck a sensitive cord, Katsuki wasted no time to continue his explanation.

“And when they do, they're either more expensive than normal or need to be tailor-made. I've searched everywhere and I couldn't find a single brand that offered both varied sports clothing at a reasonable price and provided good quality products. I have more details back home - I've prepared a presentation supporting this idea. And if it sells well, we could implement a casual gear line as well as a more expensive one. So… yeah.”

He glowered at Igaki, unnerved by his prolonged silence.

“That's my project.”

Igaki just considered him, his eyes searching his face with such intensity he might as well be trying to pry into his fucking brain.

“You look like you're about to take a shit,” Katsuki commented with no short amount of contempt.

Igaki rolled his eyes, the jewels hanging from his horns swaying as he leaned against the desk. “Would you look at that, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight knows how to crack a joke.” He scratched his jaw, his gaze on Katsuki turning contemplative. “This wouldn't be a very profitable project.”

Katsuki shrugged. “I have enough money as it is. As long as it can pay itself and its employees, I'm fine with it. It's not supposed to make me richer.”

“Interesting,” Igaki replied quietly. “I didn't peg you for the magnanimous kind of guy.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Katsuki growled through his teeth, his pride wincing at the comment.

“It just doesn't make much sense in our society, that's all. You would pass up the opportunity to build a small fortune for yourself out of charity?”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, stunned. Well, the fucker had somehow managed to reduce an issue both dear to his heart and important to their society to a mere whim, somehow an unexplicable choice that no one in their right mind would ever make.

Katsuki just clenched his jaw, his arms tightly crossed. “Just seems like the right thing to do,” he grumbled.

Igaki's eyes narrowed, his goat-like eyes searching his face.

“Give me a few days to think about it,” he eventually answered, slowly stroking his neatly trimmed goatee. “In the meantime, you think about Glimmer of Hope’s offer, alright? For now -”

He locked his phone screen, slipped it in his pocket and clapped his hands together, beaming at him with shark-like teeth.

“How do you feel about getting your ears pierced?”

—

The sun was already setting by the time Katsuki left work. He glanced at the sky, absentmindedly touching his right ear before he winced.

A week before, Igaki dragged him away to get his ears pierced. He'd warned him it would hurt a bit, and while it hadn't been as painful as he thought it would be, he didn't expect the dull throbbing pain to remain for so fucking long.

To his mild surprise, his audience had immediately noticed the two small silver hoops he had to wear until his ears healed. Thanks to their fucking excessive reaction, his parents and grandparents had been notified just as fast by Katsuki's latest fashion choice - if it could be called that at all. His mother and grandfather had received the news with mixed feelings, until his father had declared it suited him perfectly, ending any and all debates.

Though right now, his stinging earlobes were the last thing on his mind.

He turned the street corner and paused, his breath hitching in his chest. Right there, barely a few feet away, Deku stood, waiting for him.

Of course the fucking nerd would arrive earlier than Katsuki - even if Katsuki made sure he arrived fifteen minutes early. Hands in his pockets, Deku scanned the busy streets, his sharp green eyes bouncing from one spot to another. He searched the crowd for a good minute until, eventually, his gaze fell on Katsuki.

Deku’s eyes widened, his emotions splashing on his stupid face - apprehension, excitement, happiness, fear, guilt. Fuck, he’d forgotten just how easy to read the damn nerd was. It wasn’t for lack of telling him back in UA to school his damn expression into one that he could keep under control, but Deku was just an open book.

Deku strode to Katsuki with a determined look and stopped at a safe five feet from him, standing ramrod straight.

“Kacchan - hi,” he choked, his shoulders hunched and his smile tense enough to make Katsuki cringe.

“Haven't I told you a thousand times to fix your fucking face?” he replied as a form of greeting.

Startled, Deku blinked before he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Ah - right, sorry,” he apologised. Oddly enough, he relaxed at Katsuki’s rebuke, likely relieved by its normalcy. “I’ve tried, you know, but - I’m just really not good at hiding my emotions.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “You never were.”

“Guess so,” he chuckled, amused. He paused and observed Katsuki with far too many emotions swarming in his eyes. “It’s good to see you again, Kacchan.”

Katsuki just glared at him.

He wished he could say the same. Part of him felt the same, actually. They’d grown closer during their third year, close enough that he could call him his friend. Close enough that, from time to time, he would even call him Izuku instead of any other nickname. And after everything they’d lived, everything they’d gone through since their childhood, Katsuki had made the honest mistake of believing that maybe, maybe their friendship was meant to be. Maybe the two of them were meant to sail this life side by side, like two sides of the same coin.

It only made Deku’s sudden silence after UA all the more painful.

“You said we were gonna go for dinner,” he reminded him, averting his gaze. “Where is it?”

“Ah - it’s right over there!” Deku spun on his heels and pointed at a sign at the end of the street. “It's only a minute away, but I'm not sure they'll let us sit earlier, it's often packed I heard. You know, there are tons of delicious restaurants on this street, I looked it up a week ago and I found all sorts of cuisine - Korean, Indonesian, Thai, Vietnamese - there's even a semi-gastronomic restaurant that makes Japanese food but reinvented with some African influences, and I thought it was so interesting, you know, to make people discover another culture through something we already know, but then I found that restaurant that makes this sort of western cuisine and it's not like anything you and I have tried before back at UA - not that it can compare, we did what we could with what little money we had -”

Katsuki rolled his eyes and stayed silent. Gods, he almost forgot how much the damn nerd could fucking blab about any given topic. Even after all these years, he still needed to learn to keep his thoughts brief and concise. 

They neared the restaurant and its flowery forefront, waiters busying themselves inside.

“- and the other one is definitely next on my list - the one with the African influence, you know - and I thought we could try that one next week if Tuesday is good for you. I've looked it up and it's the least busy day for them so we may have time to enjoy it to the fullest, I know you don't like it when there are too many people around you -”

Katsuki abruptly stopped and snapped his eyes to Deku, arms crossed. 

“What the hell makes you think we're doing this again?” he challenged with a scoff, jutting his chin forward. “I agreed to meet you here because we have to talk about work. Work. That’s it. Got it, nerd? This is a once-and-done thing. We’ve been partnered for that team-up mission, yeah? So let’s focus on that.”

Deku’s face fell dramatically, going from excited to puppy-eyed in the blink of an eye.

“But… Kacchan -” He hesitated and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his shoulders tensing once again. “Wouldn’t it be… I mean, can’t we be…”

The unspoken word hung in the air and Katsuki’s glare turned to a glower. Oh, he swore, if the fucking nerd dared to even hint at the word, he was gonna make him swallow every single fucking flower on the restaurant forefront. He inhaled sharply through his nose and slowly exhaled, trying to calm the simmering anger he could feel snake its way through his lungs.

Deku seemed to have caught up with Katsuki’s inner turmoil because he was now carefully studying his features, like he could read every expletive Katsuki was doing his best to repress. Somehow, it only made Katsuki’s irritation grow. There were very few people outside of his family who truly, deeply knew him: Kirishima, Deku and… her. And he’d been tossed aside by two of them. 

Seeing Deku read him like an open book, even after all these years, made him want to gouge his fucking eyes out. How dare he? How fucking dare he stand before him, like nothing ever happened, like he hadn’t just decided to walk away from everything they’d gone through, for a girl he had known for barely three years? How could he have chosen her side? Were ten years with Katsuki worth nothing compared to one with her?

Or maybe his sins had simply been too great for Deku to bear. Maybe his forgiveness hadn’t reached as deep as he’d let people believe. Maybe he only needed one more reason to cut him off his life, once and for all - and she was that reason? Or was there… more?

A sudden fear spiked in his chest and he scrutinised Deku’s expression. He knew she used to have a crush on Deku, back during their first year. They had talked about it when they were dating, though briefly, because the few times the topic arose, she would immediately close it by saying it was in the past and Deku was her friend now, so there was no point in going over these times again.

Yeah. She also said she loved him and only him, only for her to kiss that motherfucker from class B in front of half the school. She talked about forever, only for Katsuki to find out she’d been ready to move on not three weeks after their breakup. So really, what did he know about her relationship with Deku?

Doubts crept into his mind, making him overthink and rethink far too many things for him to keep his swelling anger in check. Why wouldn’t she want to go back to Deku? He was kind and soft, patient and understanding. Next to him, Katsuki must have looked like a fucking rabid animal, foaming at the mouth. And now, with his training in America, Deku looked like every teenager’s wet dream.

Why wouldn’t she want him to console her after the fucking failure Katsuki proved to be?

His nails dug into his arms, lips pressed into a line so thin his lips turned white. Before him, Deku took a step in his direction, his face bright and hopeful, so open it made Katsuki want to puke - or punch him in the mouth until his fucking teeth popped out.

“Kacchan… I know you’re angry with me because of how things went with -” 

Deku paused and winced - if he tried, if he motherfucking tried to talk about her so help him gods - 

“- with Uraraka, and everything else when we left UA -” 

That was it, he was gonna break his fucking neck. 

“- and I’m more than willing to accept what you might accuse me of.” Deku placed his hand on his heart, his expression turning determined. “I also know you want this mission to succeed as much as I do. If we’re going to be partnered for who knows how long, then we should at least - we should try to be at least civil with one another. So - let’s talk it out, yeah?”

“Talk it out?” Anger burst in Katsuki’s chest, spreading like wildfire. “Talk it out?”

His breathing quickened and he stepped forward, looking so menacing that he wasn't surprised to see Deku take a step back. Good. Good. Let the damn nerd remember how fucking pissed Katsuki could be, and how quickly things could escalate then.

“You left for fucking years,” he snarled, each word a little louder than the previous, “you stomped on our friendship without a second thought, you never even gave a sign of life - and now you want to talk it the fuck out?”

Deku opened and closed his mouth at lightning speed, his big dumb fucking eyes wide enough to pop out of their sockets.

“I - Kacchan, it's not like that! I - I - you didn't want anything to do with me, I -”

“Oh so now it's my fucking fault?” he interrupted him, stepping closer every time Deku took a step back. “You spent ten motherfucking years of our lives running after me like a damn lost puppy, but suddenly once you didn't need anything from me anymore, you couldn't be bothered to ask after me? Once you mastered all your quirks and got new friends, I was old news, is that right?”

“Kacchan - no, that's not it!” Deku protested, frantically shaking his head. “I didn't mean to - I never thought you would take it that way! If I'd known you'd think that, I -”

“And how the fuck was I supposed to take it?!” he exploded, grabbing his jacket and shaking him like a tree. “What the fuck did you expect me to think when you simply just took off for America and disappeared?! You’ve spent your whole damn life glued to my side, even when I didn’t fucking want you, even when I tried every possible thing to push you away, but as soon as I let you in - as soon as I caved in just a little, you fucking bailed?!”

“I didn’t bail!” Deku shrieked, his tone almost supplicant. Around them, passersby began pausing and watching them with wide eyes. “I didn’t! Kacchan - you blocked me from every single platform! I even tried visiting your parents, but your father just told me to give you some space, that you would come around - and you never did!”

“Oh ‘cause suddenly, insisting felt like too much work?! Following me from school to school was no problem at all for you, but suddenly leaving a note was too much?!”

“Kacchan!” Deku shook Katsuki’s hands off, looking both horrified and offended. “How can you be so unfair? What more was I supposed to do? You didn’t want anything to do with me! You didn’t want anything to do with any of us! I knew you didn’t speak to Sero, Ashido and Kaminari anymore, I knew you stopped talking to everyone aside from Kirishima! And I’ve known you for years, I knew very well you wouldn’t have liked it if I tried to force you to open up! I knew very well you didn’t want to hear any of us out, because you didn’t want to hear about Uraraka at all!”

Her name rang in Katsuki’s ears and his entire spine locked.

He spun on his feet and left.

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him, and her, and everybody else. And fuck Fukuma too, who would probably be frowning in disapproval at Katsuki’s reaction - he didn’t care. He didn’t give a fuck anymore. Coming here was a mistake. Seeing Deku was a mistake. This entire work he was stupidly trying to do on himself was a mistake.

What was the point anyway? Would it change the past? Would it unbreak his heart? Would it allow him to escape this rage and hurt he carried everywhere he went? Most certainly not.

“Kacchan!” Deku screamed as he ran after him, desperation ringing in his voice. “Kacchan, wait! Kacchan!”

“What?!” Katsuki erupted, blood roaring in his ears. “What do you want?! Huh?! What the fuck do you want, Deku?! You seem to know all about every fucking thing, and you’ve solved it all by yourself - so what the fuck do you want from me?!”

“I didn’t want to leave you on your own!” Deku pleaded, and suddenly tears were welling in his eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t need me! I thought - I thought you would only want Kirishima by your side! That’s why I didn’t insist more than I did!”

“Right, and it wasn't because you were too busy licking her wounds then, yeah?!” He sneered, walking away once again. The urge to get the fuck out of dodge as fast as possible consumed him from head to toe, like a neon sign had been lit up in the middle of his brain screaming “Leave!”. 

But Deku grabbed the hem of his jacket, forcing him to a stop. “Kacchan, please - she needed me!”

“AND I DIDN’T NEED YOU?!” he roared from the top of his lungs, making passersby circle widely around them, some shocked, others annoyed by the display. “I was supposed to be YOUR fucking friend! You should have known, better than anyone else, that I would have needed YOU! Out of everyone else, I can’t fucking believe you’d be part of the ones who would think I was a heartless monster!”

“I didn’t!” Deku implored, tears running down his cheeks. “I never did! You don’t understand! I didn’t have a choice! I couldn’t leave her on her own, she was - you don’t understand!”

“Then we’re fucking done here!” Katsuki snarled, his voice breaking. “If I’m a fucking idiot who can’t understand or can’t listen to reason, then this is where this fucking ends!”

He turned around once again, his throat closing up and his eyes prickling. Rarely had he ever felt so alone, so painfully misunderstood. Like he wasn’t even worth an explanation, or even a thought.

Like he wasn’t worth a thing.

“Kacchan!” Deku sobbed behind him. “Kacchan, please - please, let me explain - please -”

The words echoed in his mind and hammered a nail right through his heart. He froze in place and slowly turned around, only to find Deku weeping and hunched over, clutching his heart, his green eyes wet with tears.

And all Katsuki could see were big brown eyes, filled with tears, begging him not to go. 

He swallowed painfully. All he could see was her, he realised. Her, her, her, everywhere, in everyone. He wanted to fucking hate her. He wished he could hate her. He wanted her memory to disappear from his mind forever, but no matter what, something always dragged him right back to her.

“Was it too much to ask for you to care?” he asked, his voice wavering as tears rose. “Was I really not important enough for you? Tell me -”

Katsuki scoffed, his chin quivering, and he opened his arms helplessly.

“Was I not worth the effort anymore?”

Deku stared at him for all of two seconds, watery eyes wide and mouth open in pure shock. The next second, he was bawling his eyes out loud enough for the entire street to hear.

“I’m sorry! K-Kacchan - Kacch- Kacchan - I’m so - so s-sorry!” he wailed, burying his face in his hands. “I should have t-told you - about her plans - ab-about - everything -”

For a moment, Katsuki just glared at him, shaking from all the emotions he was trying so hard to repress. Hurt and rage blinded him, drowning every other feeling. He could leave him right there. Let him feel what it was like, to turn around and find himself all alone.

Unbidden, Sero's face flashed in his mind, twisted with anger and resentment. The image alone was enough to halt the vicious words on the tip of his tongue, so ready to crush Deku's spirit even more.

You're the one who walked away!

“Goddammit!”

With a furious huff, he ran a hand through his hair and let his gaze wander around him - only to notice, to his great irritation, that the number of passersby gawking at them had significantly increased.

“I think they’re breaking up,” he heard one of them say to her friend, who gasped in response.

“Kids these days,” a man grumbled, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“Don’t you have anything else to do?!” Katsuki barked in their general direction, furiously blinking back his tears.

Some people jumped and looked away, embarrassed, while others just stared at him indignantly, as if startled he would have the guts to ask them to look away. Gritting his teeth, Katsuki strode to Deku, determined, and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him along as he backtracked away from the curious crowd.

“Ka-Kacchan,” Deku hiccuped, wiping his tears with his free hand. “Where - wh-where are we -”

“To the fucking restaurant,” Katsuki snarled.

He was getting to the bottom of this, he decided. Tonight. He’d get all the answers he needed, even if he had to rip them from that traitor of a nerd one by one. He’d delayed this moment for far too long already, and he paid for his stubbornness with his self-esteem and his mental health.

The time had come for him to face the past once and for all.

“We don’t - have t-to - if you wan- wanna go ho-home, I -”

“We’re going,” Katsuki snapped loudly. “You booked the fucking thing, we’re going. So dry your tears before the whole street starts believing you cucked me or something.”

Before Deku could protest, Katsuki pushed the restaurant’s front door and entered, dragging him behind.

“We got a reservation at nine,” he grumbled to the receptionist, whose eyes immediately grew wide as saucers when he noticed Deku sniffling and wiping his tears behind him. “Under Midoriya, for two people.”

The receptionist gawked at Deku for two more seconds as he pulled a pack of tissues from his jacket, frantically trying to dry his tears, before he finally snapped out of it.

“Yes - yes, of course - Midoriya, yes, the name is right here. Please, follow my colleague. This is Komako, she will be your waitress for tonight.”

Katsuki nodded curtly and followed the short woman while, behind him, Deku thanked the receptionist and apologised profusely - for him or Katsuki, he didn’t know. Probably both.

Katsuki inhaled deeply to calm himself and tried to steady his mind. The last thing he needed was another scene in a restaurant, so even if he still felt like he was about to burst with fury and grief, the best thing to do right now was to get a hold of himself - the main reason being that, if he didn’t, then Deku would keep on bawling his fucking eyes out until the whole restaurant drowned in his tears.

“Could we get some privacy?” Katsuki asked with a resigned sigh when the tiny waitress directed them to a table right in the middle of the room. “I’ll pay the difference if needed.”

The waitress nodded eagerly and bowed before she guided them to a table in the far corner of the restaurant, hidden by an elegant folding screen, stealing curious glances at Deku’s snivelling form.

“Just order whatever you want,” Katsuki grumbled when they brought them the menus. Shit, if he kept inviting every single person he met to the restaurant he was gonna have trouble saving any money at all this month.

Deku sniffled and shook his head, his lips quivering. “I - I’m not very hungry -”

Katsuki rolled his eyes and turned to the waitress. “We’ll take your two most popular dishes. We’ll take a look at the dessert menu later.”

“Of course Sir,” she replied with a bow. She collected the menus and, with one last sympathetic look in Deku’s direction, she disappeared behind the paper screen.

“Kacchan - it’s nice of you, but -” His chin trembled and his eyes once again filled with tears. “Maybe we sh-should - talk more about - about UA, and - and -”

“No,” Katsuki firmly retorted, crossing his arms on his chest. “I’m not having you bawl your damn eyes out in the middle of the restaurant. First, we eat, then once you have something in your stomach and you’ve calmed down a notch, we’ll talk. But we’re not discussing shit in your current state.”

Tears spilt down Deku’s cheeks and he nodded, quickly wiping them with the heel of his palms.

In the end, much like he’d predicted, Deku regained his appetite as soon as they began eating. Despite wanting to cling to his resentment, Katsuki still felt guilty enough for making him cry that he allowed him to get a bite from his dish. He even allowed Deku to choose whatever he wanted when the dessert menus were brought. He knew the nerd had a sweet tooth, one thing he had always shared with -

Katsuki pressed his lips into a thin line and, instead of pushing the name deep into his mind, he let it ghost for a moment on his tongue. 

He barely even knew what to call her anymore - Uraraka or Ochako or her. He used to think he knew her better than anyone, that he was so special and unique, that he was the only one she’d allowed so deeply into her heart. Now she felt like a stranger, like the memory of something once so sweet and beautiful that now tasted sour and cold.

“Better now?” he asked when Deku finished his third dessert.

He nodded sheepishly, seemingly more in control of his emotions than he was earlier - but then again, he never knew with the damn nerd, one moment he was fine and the next his eyes had turned into waterfalls. As soon as he put his chopsticks down, the waitress magically reappeared and collected all the plates, leaving two steaming cups of tea behind her.

“Look, Kacchan,” Deku began, staring at the steam evaporating. He swallowed with some difficulty, his eyes bouncing around as he searched for the right words. “I’m… so sorry if you felt like I… like I abandoned you. It really wasn’t my intention, and I - I… in my defence, I truly thought you didn’t want to ever talk to me again. You seemed so hurt, I… I just thought you’d never want to ever see my face again.”

He glanced up with pleading eyes, filled with remorse.

“And I would have understood if it were the case. I… I should have told you about Uraraka’s plans. She’s my dearest friend, but you’re…” He pinched his lips, his expression turning miserable. “You were like a brother to me. And I let it go to ruin because I failed to tell you the truth. I… I can’t find the words to tell you how sorry I am. I’d understand if you decided to hate me for the rest of your days.”

He lowered his gaze to the table, looking so crushed, so in pain -

A vague image flashed in his mind, of a brown-haired boy, spikes in all directions and a look of soul-crushing guilt encrusted in his face.

He blinked, and the image was gone, replaced by a wave of painful attachment.

Confused, he stared at Deku some more but only found his usual green locks, shorter than when they were at UA but still as unruly as ever. A faint buzzing slowly spread in his mind and Katsuki winced - that was what he got for getting so angry earlier.

He shook his head a little and refocused on the man before him. Now was not the time to get sidetracked.

“Then why didn’t you say a thing?” he grumbled dryly. “No, forget about that, I know what you’re gonna tell me. I -” He huffed, annoyed, and sipped his tea. “I understand that she asked you to keep silent. Ashido told me she was put in a tough spot because of that, so I’m gonna assume it was the same thing for you. Just - why didn’t you -”

He crossed his arms on his chest and glowered at him.

“Why didn’t you try to reach out? You allowed Todoroki to almost freeze you then burn you to a crisp back in first year to force him to talk to you, but you’re gonna look me in the eyes and tell me my anger was too much for you to handle?”

“It’s not that,” Deku answered softly, shaking his head. “It’s - I… Kacchan, your breakup with Uraraka was so violent, I knew neither one of you would allow me in if you knew I was consoling the other one.”

“So you chose her,” Katsuki concluded.

“She needed me, Kacchan, I -”

Katsuki scoffed, bewildered. “And I didn’t?”

Deku sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping a little.

“Kacchan - you have to understand. I know you've been hurting, but Uraraka, she - she -” 

He looked at the ceiling like the words he was looking for were written somewhere for him to find. 

“Your breakup tore her apart.”

He sighed deeply and ran a hand in his hair, an anxious frown settling on his brow.

“She wouldn't eat. She couldn't sleep. She made zero friends during her first year. It was a miracle that she managed to pass the year at all that year because she was just - just -” He pinched his lips and winced at some memory. “Honestly, it felt like she was just letting herself die.”

Katsuki's heart fell.

“Maybe if she'd stayed in Japan,” he continued as he absentmindedly picked a paper napkin apart, not noticing Katsuki paling, “surrounded by her friends and family, she would have managed better. But she left barely a week after graduation and found herself all alone, on the other side of the planet, without anyone to rely on. She left the comfort of Japan and had to live in the capital city of the rudest country on Earth.”

He ruffled his hair again, his eyes darting nervously about as his words poured from him into his trademark ramble.

“I tried to call her whenever I could, but it was difficult with the time difference. And every time I saw her face, she looked a little thinner. She tried to pretend she was fine for a bit, but she would always be up for a call at ungodly hours for her - at first she blamed it on the jet lag, then she would say she had papers due and was working late to complete them. But after two months, she was looking like the shadow of herself, and when I insisted, she said -”

He swallowed and shook his head.

“She said she couldn't sleep, because her nightmares were keeping her awake. That she could barely rest, and even when she collapsed with exhaustion, she still had dreams that haunted her. She would wake up in the morning or the middle of the night, in tears, and feel even more tired than before she fell asleep. She struggled to keep up with her classes because the teachers and students sucked at English, so she had to learn French even faster than she'd initially thought she would have to. Then she fell behind on her classes because she was not just learning new things but also had to translate everything, and one thing leading to the other, she was completely overwhelmed.”

He finished shredding the napkin in his hands and began making tiny little piles with the torn pieces, unconsciously keeping himself busy.

“We were so worried,” he confessed in a low voice, looking like he was talking to himself rather than Katsuki. “Iida and I regularly sent her packages from Japan with things she couldn’t find or that were too expensive for her to buy. Tsuyu and Ashido tried to call every chance they had. Todoroki spent a small fortune coming and going to see her whenever he could, and it was the same thing every time. He would get more and more anxious and book a flight, thinking that this time she’d be doing better, this time she’d bounce back and be herself once again. Then he’d arrive and find her in a state even worse than the last, and when he’d return to Japan he’d be terrified for her and furious with you.”

“You don’t say,” Katsuki retorted with a scoff, unable to put any bite into it or to keep his voice from wavering.

Deku just gave him a sad look.

“I tried to defend you,” he said softly, making his spine prickle with dread. “Whenever Todoroki would rant about how you were the worst, I tried to tell him that you probably suffered too, but he would just tell me to shut up, and that I didn’t know what I was talking about. You know how he gets, especially when it concerns Uraraka,” he added with a tired wave of his hand. “Iida says that since he was so distant from his siblings, he probably sought that connection with others. And since he and Uraraka kinda behave the same way whenever something happens - you know, shutting off and pretending all is good - they understand each other better than anyone else. Iida says he probably wishes he had a younger sister like her.”

Katsuki pressed his lips into a thin line and said nothing. 

He tried not to pay any mind to the sharp pang of jealousy that flashed in his heart - he didn’t care. Why would he care? It didn’t matter what relationship she and Todoroki had anymore. And it didn’t matter that Deku was fucking wrong about her - because the one who understood her better than anyone else had been Katsuki.

It was him she confided in. It was him she sought whenever she felt down, him she confessed the feelings that tore her from the inside out. Not motherfucking Todoroki. He knew her better than anyone, because he was the only one who had held her in his arms in the dead of the night. He was the one she felt so safe with, she could fall asleep in the blink of an eye and with a smile on her lips. He was the one she kissed so sweetly it tore his walls down, he was the one who could make her blush red with nothing but a wink.

He was the one for her.

Or so he used to think.

“Seeing her fade like that made him go crazy with worry,” Deku continued, oblivious to Katsuki’s thoughts. He assembled the small heaps of paper into one pile, focusing on making it look like a pyramid. “He resented you a little more with every passing month, and none of us could calm him down. Only Yaoyorozu managed to keep him from rushing over and breaking down your door. Yeah, he thought about doing that,” he confirmed when Katsuki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “He thought he might as well go and confront you about the whole situation, if it meant helping Uraraka get over you.”

He gave a long, heavy sigh, brushing away the destroyed paper napkin.

“Then before the end of her term, we heard from Tsuyu that Uraraka was about to fail her year - which meant she’d get expelled.”

Katsuki blinked.

“What?” he snapped, anger spiking in his chest and quickly morphing into seething outrage. 

Fail? She almost failed? She tore them apart, lied to him, broke his heart and moved so far away from him that he wouldn’t even have the slightest chance of ever stumbling upon her - and she almost failed?  

What the fuck! What was that all for, then? All this hurt, all this pain, all this fucking jumble of emotions she left him with that still ripped him apart in new ways three years later - what was it all for? If she went and sabotaged herself, ruined “the most extraordinary opportunity in her life” as Todoroki had called it, then what was it all for?

Deku nodded and crossed his arms, leaning on the table. 

“Her grades were terrible. The more she failed, the more depressed she grew. And the more she despaired, the worse her results were. Gang Orca was on her back and threatened to pull his sponsorship back if she didn’t get a grip, her parents kept trying to encourage her to give it her best and didn’t understand what was wrong with her. Her father -”

Deku winced.

“Her father was especially relentless. He wanted to boost her and lift her spirits, but it only made her feel like a failure. From what I’ve understood, he kept reminding her that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that he and her mother wouldn’t have been able to offer her, and that she was foolish if she let it go. She felt horribly guilty for being unable to get it together and just - withered. She couldn’t even tell them why she felt so depressed, because she knew they would be too disappointed to see her throw her first year of college over a teenage heartbreak - I mean, you’ve met her father, you know how he is.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth. “No. No, I haven’t,” he grumbled sourly.

He expected Deku to blink stupidly and be surprised, but instead, the damn nerd had the guts to drop his shoulders in relief.

“Oh good,” he breathed, throwing Katsuki a wide-eyed stare. “That’s the smartest thing Uraraka could have done - good for you.”

“How is that a good thing?” Katsuki bit back through his teeth. “Aren’t you supposed to be proud of your boyfriend? Shouldn’t you want to introduce them to your parents?”

“Not hers,” Deku immediately replied, frantically shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, her parents are super nice - we met them when we helped Uraraka pack her stuff before she went to the airport. But her father - her father is -”

He took a deep breath and pressed his palms together like a prayer, pressing his fingers against his mouth. His eyes popped so wide they seemed like they would bulge out of their socket anytime.

“First of all, he is huge and he knows it. Second, he swears like a seasoned sailor who’s been at sea for decades. I know construction workers are known for being foul-mouthed, but he is on another level altogether. He makes no effort to make you feel more at ease around him - it’s adapt or die.” He touched his heart, war flashbacks playing behind his eyes. “I died, Kacchan, okay? I died. He was terrifying, and the more scared I was, the more it amused him. Do you remember that time in second year, when he made that chair weigh a hundred kilos and then dared us to lift it? And we all failed pathetically and he kept laughing louder and louder? And then Uraraka cancelled its gravity, and he boasted that no one held a candle to his daughter?”

Katsuki slowly nodded.

“Well he was in a good mood that day,” Deku continued as he ran both his hands in his hair - if the fucking nerd didn’t quit it with the damn nervous ticks, Katsuki was gonna punch him in the mouth. “When we met him at Uraraka’s place, he looked at us from head to toe and quizzed us about a thousand random things - and it felt like we failed with each reply! Not even Todoroki managed to score any points with him! Not even Iida! Or Tsuyu!”

He groaned and forcefully rubbed his face, his freckled cheeks growing red.

“And then he heard me tell Uraraka’s Mom that we were going to miss her, and he snapped at me that if I was truly her friend, then I shouldn’t say anything to make her feel bad for leaving - that I should encourage her and lift her spirit, not burden her with my own sadness. Even her Mom grew colder and told me that her daughter should focus on herself and her future and not dwell on what others thought or felt - that just like I was doing my best to reach my goals, so was she. I swear, I’ve never felt more stupid in my entire life.”

He slumped on his chair, the memory mortifying him.

“It’s a good thing you never met her parents, Kacchan,” he continued, his eyes wild, “because her father is a girl dad if I’ve ever seen one, and if he’d found out she had a boyfriend, he would have chewed you up and spit you out in the blink of an eye. Trust me on this. And her mother - I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think she would have seen you as anything but an obstacle on her daughter’s path to greatness.”

Katsuki remained quiet for a moment and watched as Deku tried to catch his breath, recovering from the visibly stressful memory.

“So… did she fail her year?” he begrudgingly asked.

Deku looked up, startled like he just remembered what they’d been talking about.

“Ah - well, she would have, but Todoroki grabbed us all and flew us to her. He paid for my ticket and Ashido’s, and Iida paid for Tsuyu’s - the two of them organised the whole trip from start to finish because Todoroki said Uraraka wouldn't have the mental space to plan anything for us. At first I thought he was exaggerating - I thought that was just him being overprotective. But when we arrived -”

He puffed his cheeks and blew a breath, shaking his head, eyes lost in the past.

“I never thought I would ever see her like that,” he said in a low voice, like he was afraid the gods would hear him and bring the memory back. “I wish I had never seen her like that. She looked like a ghost, Kacchan. She had lost so much weight. Seeing her face on a mild-quality call and seeing her in real life, drowning in her clothes because she couldn’t fill them anymore were two very different things. She looked - she looked so -”

He paused and searched for the word, his eyes bouncing frantically around. Katsuki waited and swallowed with some difficulty, his heart hammering painfully against his ribs.

“She looked so vulnerable,” he sighed. “She seemed like she could break at any given moment. And she cried so much. I had barely seen her cry a handful of times in the three years we’d spent at UA, and now she was crying all the time. Kacchan, I’ve never seen her like that.”

Katsuki remained unmoving, his breath hitching in his chest. His throat was growing uncomfortably tight, his hands sweating lightly.

Oh, he knew exactly what Deku meant - because he had seen her break down. He was one of the rare people alive to have ever seen her give in to her emotions, to witness what happened when the steel dam she kept her feelings locked behind broke. He knew she would cry and cry and cry, and there would be nothing he could do or say that would make her feel better. All he could do was hold her in his arms, wait for her to fall asleep and hope one of her nightmares wouldn’t find her in the meantime.

“Her apartment was a mess,” Deku continued, now playing with the salt and pepper shaker set. “When I say it was a mess, Kacchan - it was filthy. There was mould in her fridge, dust bunnies everywhere, a ton of garbage in her kitchen that should have been taken out ages ago, clothes all over the place, papers and school stuff in all the wrong places - we even found books and clothes behind the door in the toilet. I thought Iida was going to have a heart attack.”

He shook his head again, aligning the salt and pepper shaker set like he would chess pieces.

“And I didn’t understand, because she wasn’t like that back at UA - sure, she was a little messy when we had a lot to do at school, but she kept her room clean. It was her space, and she liked to keep it neat and organised. But when I tried to ask her about it, she burst into tears and kept apologising, over and over again.” 

He paused and bit his lips, wincing a little. 

“I thought Todoroki was going to punch me in the throat. Thankfully, Iida immediately suggested we buy cleaning products and help her clean it all before anything else. I think it helped her a lot - seeing us all move around her flat, laughing and decluttering everything - just taking the mental charge off her shoulders, generally speaking. Ashido even put on some music to keep us entertained, and Uraraka cried again, because it had been so long since she’d listened to the newest Japanese music. She cried again when we were done cleaning and ordered some takeout - she just cried all the time. All. The. Time. And she -”

He dared a glance in Katsuki’s direction, looking apologetic and hesitant.

“She talked about you, too,” he admitted, and Katsuki couldn’t keep his foolish heart from jumping, nervous and hopeful. “She talked about you a lot - and usually she cried right after. She asked about you, if we kept in touch with you, if we knew how you were doing, if you’d moved on. But we couldn’t give her any answers because at the time, you weren’t - you didn’t -”

He cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

“We stayed with her until her finals. We walked her to college in the morning, met her for lunch when she could and walked her back in the evening. We cooked her meals and made sure her flat was always clean. We took turns helping her study and preparing notes for her finals. Iida and Todoroki had booked a hotel, but we barely used it, we just stayed at Uraraka’s place. Tsuyu and Ashido slept in her bed with her, and Todoroki, Iida and I slept on futons in her living room. It was a tight fit because her flat was pretty small, but she wanted us to stay. And honestly, we were too worried to leave.”

He sighed deeply, now toying with his glass.

“She passed with just enough points, but the school still threatened to expel her if the first semester of her second year didn’t improve. Gang Orca called her the day before we left to tell her that he wouldn't wait until the end of the semester - if she failed to do better by the very first month, he’d pull his sponsorship. Her parents called her to congratulate her and begged her to take her studies more seriously, that she could do better and that she should at least put some effort into it. She couldn’t even be happy to have passed and just… cried.”

Gritting his teeth, Katsuki tried to fight back the old protectiveness rising from the depths of his heart.

“You don’t understand. I know you don’t, Kacchan, because I didn’t either until I saw her. Todoroki understood and I didn’t, because he’d spent months watching her wither away.”

Deku finally looked up, his eyes full of sorrow.

“Losing you shattered her.”

Averting his gaze, Katsuki swallowed with some difficulty. It felt like his guts had just been dipped in a bucket of ice-cold water, his dumb heart hammering in a panic.

“I don’t get it,” he grumbled, staring at the salt and pepper shaker set rather than Deku. “Wasn't that what she wanted? She made a whole deal out of it and left me out of the damn equation - she included everyone but me. So why - that's a bit excessive. Why did she react that way?”

Deku paused and glanced at him, studying his face like he was trying to determine whether Katsuki was being serious or not.

“Because she was depressed,” he simply replied, like the answer was obvious. “She was heartbroken, homesick and painfully lonely. Even if we called her for one hour every day, she was still alone for twenty-three hours. And she -”

He hesitated and gave Katsuki a melancholy smile. 

“She never wanted you out of her life. I don't think she had even thought of what leaving Japan without you in her life would be like. She thought you two would stay together. She was afraid that you'd either be furious at her for leaving or that you'd try to tag along and convince yourself her goal was yours too. But she never expected you to leave her.”

A painful throbbing shook Katsuki's heart.

“What the fuck did she expect then?” he snarled, allowing his anger to shield him from the emotions bubbling in his chest. “Do you really think I was that dumb? Do you think I hadn't realised she spent the last months of our relationship avoiding me? Being all fucking sketchy and shit? In what world did she see that happen?”

Deku observed him with sad eyes, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

“But - Kacchan… Was there really no other way?”

Katsuki blinked, his brows shooting up in surprise. To his credit, Deku weathered his glare without flinching.

“I know you were angry, and…” He paused and sighed, once more ruffling his hair. “If I’m completely honest, you had every right to be furious. We spent months telling her to come clean about it, we warned her over and over again that nothing good would come out of staying quiet for so long. But, Kacchan… couldn't you have talked to her? Or at least allowed her to explain why she stayed quiet?”

Katsuki scoffed, his nails digging into his palms. “What more was there to say? She made everything crystal clear when she kissed the fucking fake Kirishima from the other class.”

Deku winced and shut his eyes.

“Urgh, I knew you were going to mention that,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I'm not sure what happened that night, but trust me, she did not look like someone who enjoyed the newfound joys of being single. She categorically refused to talk about it whenever we asked her. Not even Ashido managed to get a word out of her. And for what it's worth, she seemed to regret it instantly.”

“Oh well, if she regretted it then,” he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Kacchan -”

“What?”

Deku kept his gaze on him.

“You should have talked to her,” he said softly, each word like a slap in the face. “It would have saved you both so much hurt if you'd just allowed her to talk with you. And maybe you wouldn't be thinking about her still to this day.”

Katsuki scoffed loudly, stunned by the fucking nerve of that goddamn nerd.

“And what the hell makes you think I still think about her, huh?” he spat, full of contempt.

To his great indignation, Deku smiled and chuckled half-heartedly.

“Kacchan, you’ve created a cooking show from scratch for students who live alone and with little money,” he deadpanned. A rush of heat ran over Katsuki’s head, his heart falling to the pit of his stomach. He knows. “You’re one of the most private people I know, yet according to Kaminari, you’ve agreed in no time to pose half-naked just so you could take part in a charity program for struggling families. And I heard from Kirishima that your very first solo project is the launch of a sports brand for people who don’t have the means to buy proper sportswear.”

He cocked his head to the side, his gentle green eyes piercing right through his soul. The same fucking eyes that he couldn’t bear looking at when they were younger, the ones that saw through the facade Katsuki carefully built to fool everyone into thinking his strength was unmatched.

The same eyes that now saw through Katsuki’s walls of steel and caught sight of his mangled heart.

“And all I can think of is how helpful this would have been for Uraraka in high school. If only someone with the means to do so had done something like that for her, wouldn’t her life have been easier?”

Heart in his throat, Katsuki glowered at the fucker facing him, feeling more vulnerable than he had since his first session with Fukuma.

This time, Deku had the common sense to look away, resuming his toying with the salt and pepper shaker.

“Well, anyway.” He sighed, resigned. “The most important thing is that she’s doing much better now. Ashido left her a pretty little plant right before we left, and made her swear she would take care of it. And you know what, it was the push she needed to get her life back on track. I guess she just needed to feel useful - to know someone or something needed her, and not the other way around. She used her two-month holidays to force herself to eat better, go outside and enjoy the break before her classes resumed. She followed the cleaning outline Iida left her so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the mess again. She also followed the studying plan Tsuyu and I had prepared for her, so she saw her grades improve drastically when her classes resumed. She gained back some weight and it was no surprise when she aced her practical tests. I mean, I don’t even know how she managed not to fail every single one of them in the state she was in before.”

He nodded to himself, his frown slowly disappearing.

“We visited her at the end of her second year, and she looked -” He breathed a sigh of relief. “She looked so much better. She smiled, she laughed. She had taken care of Ashido’s plant and had even bought other potted plants. Her apartment was squeaky clean this time - kinda like she wanted us to forget it had ever been a mess in the first place. And she took us around the city with a handful of the friends she’d made during the year.”

His eyes quickly darted towards Katsuki, hesitant once again.

“And she asked about you again,” he mumbled, almost apologetic. “She didn’t understand why you refused to talk to anyone but Kirishima, and… she felt guilty. She told Todoroki she was sure she was the reason why you’d removed your own friends from your life. And - um - well, last June, uh -”

Deku averted his gaze and spun the salt shaker between his fingers a little too fast for it to be a good sign.

“We visited her again. We thought it would be a nice tradition to visit her at the end of each term and gather. It’s so difficult to see each other with our schedules, so we try to force ourselves to meet at least once a year. And um - well, she asked about you again. Except this time -”

He pinched his lips, wincing in a way that made Katsuki’s heart jolt uneasily.

“This time, Ashido told her it was time for her to move on - that she heard from Kirishima that you had been dating someone for half a year, that you were dating someone new, and that thinking about a relationship that was over three years ago would only hurt her more than necessary.”

Time froze.

“She um - at first, she didn’t say much,” Deku continued while Katsuki’s head spun lightly. “But after some time, she - she cried. She didn’t think… I think she still clung to the hope that maybe you would change your mind and reach out to her one day. But Ashido’s words were the last nail in the coffin.”

Deku cleared his throat, deliberately avoiding Katsuki’s glare. The only thing he could feel was the heavy rush of his blood coursing through his body with each pump of his heart.

And the feeling that, deep in his gut, something was crumbling apart.

“So she decided to stay in France. Her grades this year were outstanding and her school has been begging her to accept their offer to sign up for their master’s degree. As a bachelor's student, she already had her place secured but still needed to confirm she would attend. And she said she was still hesitating, but it was obvious that -”

He paused and sighed, running a hand in his green locks.

“She wanted to come home. And… she wanted to see you. I’m sure of it. She’s been thinking and talking about you for so long, I’m sure she thought that if she saw you again - if she could talk to you -”

He pinched his lips.

“She didn’t dwell on it as long as I feared she would, though. Before we left, she accepted the school’s offer for the master’s degree. She immediately got swarmed with internship offers - it’s a work-study type of master’s,” he added with a nod in Katsuki’s direction, as if he’d asked him to fucking elaborate and wasn’t feeling like something was draining him of his blood. “And when she dropped us off at the airport, she asked Todoroki not to interact with you under any circumstances, that she got the message loud and clear and that she was ready to move on for good this time.”

The salt shaker slipped from his fingers and rattled on the table.

“Last I heard, she was dating a few guys. Nothing serious so far. I think she’s testing the waters after remaining single for so long. I mean she’s been out there, but it was never serious. I know a few people in her school were interested in her, but I don’t know if she’ll risk dating someone she’ll have to see every day afterwards. She likes to keep her feelings and her job neatly separate, and it’s especially true now that she’s ready to date again.”

He paused and rearranged the salt and pepper shakers while Katsuki watched him fumble with the set, his heart pounding painfully. His mind felt light, like it had simply dissociated from the conversation.

It was one thing to wonder what she was up to, if she'd moved on like he suspected she had, if she'd forgotten all about them, all about him, all about the love he thought they shared. It was another entirely to learn that no, she hadn't. She'd mourned him the way he'd refused to for so long, cried for him and waited, waited for him to turn around, to return and finally hear her out.

Until she didn't.

Now, she didn't. Not anymore.

Now -

He leaned back in his seat, his breath hitching in his chest.

“Is she -”

Deku glanced at him, green eyes reading every emotion on Katsuki's face.

What was he gonna ask anyway? What question should he ask, that it wasn't already too late for? Was she really moving on? Did she truly wait? Was it truly not over for her? And if it wasn't, why didn't she -

He pressed his lips into a thin line, swallowing every question right back. He had no right to ask them. He knew he didn't. Because just like Todoroki had pointed out, he was the one who broke up. Like Sero had reminded him, he was the one who walked away. He was the one who'd decided to call it quits, caught up in his fury and resentment. And now - now -

He swallowed with some difficulty.

Now, it was definitely, truly over.

“Is she happy?” he asked quietly, his eyes fixated on the table.

Deku observed him for a moment, his gaze heavy on him.

“She wasn't for a while,” he replied, his voice sad and soft - too soft. So soft it made Katsuki want to roar and tear at his skin. So soft it broke his heart a little more, just because he understood the unspoken words behind it. 

Because of you, she wasn't. Because of your silence, she cried. Because of your fury, she let herself drown to depths you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy.  

Deku sighed and scratched his ear, turning pensive. “She wasn't, but… I think she will be now.”

—

Fukuma remained silent, his piercing gaze set on Katsuki.

He expected him to ask questions after he’d told him everything Deku said and what Torodoki had told him two weeks ago, to make comments or hit him with his fucking annoying mind-altering wisdom. But he said nothing. He stayed quiet.

More than anything else, his silence was what made Katsuki’s heartbeat quicken. Because with Fukuma, silence meant he knew Katsuki wasn’t telling him everything.

“That’s it,” he snapped with a shrug that was anything but casual. “There’s nothing more to say, and nothing more to add. So now that Deku’s back and we’ve cleared the air, we can focus on our job and get on with our lives.”

Only silence followed. Eventually, Katsuki loudly exhaled through his nose, his irritation peaking. “What?”

Fukuma cocked his head to the side. “I couldn't help but notice you've mentioned Deku's return and his studies multiple times whenever you exposed your reasons for being angry at him. You state that he left without looking back and didn't try to contact you or clear the air, as you’ve said. And you’ve also cited his return as one of the leading elements to the incident in July.”

Fukuma joined his hands, interlacing his fingers together.

“Was there maybe another reason you were angry at your childhood friend? Something that might not really be related to him?”

Katsuki pressed his lips into a thin line and averted his gaze. His leg bounced nervously, his nails digging furrows in the velvet armrests. The answer slowly bubbled up, from the depth of his heart where he'd carefully buried it, through the scorched paths of the scars he'd tried and failed to heal, and burrowed itself into his mind.

He swallowed painfully.

“Why were you so angry to learn your friend had returned from America at the end of his studies?”

His breath hitched, grew shallow.

“Because -”

He swallowed again, but the lump in his throat only grew, swelling and locking the words on his tongue.

‘‘Cause -”

His pride roared in outrage, churning in his heart and sending daggers against the other terrible emotions that threatened to break him to pieces once again. How could he ever admit it? How could he ever say the words?

How could he ever allow anyone to know of his deepest wish, the one he'd kept even himself from thinking about?

In front of him, Fukuma just stared in silence, patiently waiting.

Katsuki took a deep breath.

“Because I thought she would come back too!” he finally blared.

There. 

He said it.

Silence followed his words, interrupted only by the ticking of the clock on the wall and Katsuki's heavy breathing.

Seething anger rose in his mind and engulfed everything. It wrapped itself around his wounded ego, desperate to shield him from how vulnerable he suddenly felt, how naked and alone he felt.

A bark of laughter escaped him and he grinned at Fukuma, his cheeks hurting.

“Go on then,” he challenged with wild eyes, the threat in his voice cancelling his beam. “Say it.”

Fukuma’s expression turned wary as he studied Katsuki. “Say what?” he carefully asked.

Katsuki laughed again, his face twisted into a furious, disbelieving grimace. Both his legs bounced furiously.

“That I'm fucking pathetic?” he suggested with a wide shrug, throwing his hands above his head. “That I’m nothing but a fucking loser who just wasted three years of his goddamn life?”

Fukuma blinked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Is this what you think about yourself?”

This time, Katsuki laughed out loud, not an ounce of humour in his voice.

“What else am I supposed to think?” he barked, his tone rising with each word. “What the fuck's everyone else supposed to think? Hah? She left without turning back, and I'm just - I'm -”

His eyes began to prickle, his throat closing dangerously. He tried to fight the tears back, but no matter how hard he latched onto his anger to ground him, his despair overwhelmed everything and washed over him.

Katsuki drowned.

“I’m the fucking idiot who's still stuck in the past!” he all but shouted as his false smile slipped from his face and tears welled up in his eyes. “And the worst is - the worst part is -”

He looked at the ceiling, unable to withstand Fukuma's look of soft sympathy.

“I still care about her!” he admitted, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I tried not to think about her - I tried so hard - I didn't ask about her, didn't allow anyone to speak about her, but - but there was always a part of me - I wondered if she was okay - and she wasn't! I knew she didn't like to cook - so I used to do that for her - and when she left, I kept wondering - if she was eating properly, so far away from here -”

He furiously snatched a tissue, then another and angrily wiped his tears.

“I worried about her - ‘cause I didn't know if she slept properly either - she always had such violent nightmares since our second year - since her uncle's death - and she always dreamt so vividly - she could almost never go back to sleep if I - if I wasn’t there to soothe her - to hold her and - to lull her back to sleep. And she always bottled everything up! I used to be the one she went to - whenever she felt like she was about to implode - and when she did, it was - like a fucking dam broke and she would just - just crumble into tears in my arms, and -”

A sob escaped him, then another. He buried his fingers in his hair, gripping fistfuls of it.

“And I was so damn angry with her! I’m so fucking angry with her! But I thought - deep down I thought - I thought it would be fine - that I was allowed to be furious, because - ‘cause - ‘cause when she'd come back - I would just tell her - about all the things I wished I had told her three years ago - about how much she hurt me - and that she should - have told me the t- the truth -”

His shoulders shook as tears flowed down his cheeks.

“But she's not coming back!” he cried, his voice breaking miserably. “Because - because I broke her heart - and now - now she doesn't want anything to do with me anymore! She m-moved on - she put it all - behind her - I thought we would - I thought - even when I thought I hated her - I still thought - deep down - that I would find her again - that one day - that she and I, we were - but I'll never -”

Frustrated, Katsuki let out a loud growl before he threw his hands above his head.

“Why do I feel so fucking guilty?!” he exploded, incomprehension feeding his despair. “She's the one who left! She's the one who lied! She decided that we weren't worth a shot - that we weren't her priority! In three weeks, she replaced us! She was already making out - with other guys! I was thinking about her - thinking I should be the bigger person - and talk, and she was - in three weeks, she was… So why should I feel bad?! Why do I feel so fucking bad?!”

He wiped his tears, concern bursting in his heart so sharply it bordered on horror.

“She lost twenty pounds! Twenty pounds! Oh, gods - she wasn't that big to begin with, and now - because of me… She wanted me back! She wanted to explain herself - to apologise! But I was so furious - I didn't want to listen to her, and I thought - I thought she would get the opportunity to - when she came back - ‘cause I didn't want to - to be the one to take the first step - she always - she would always wait for me - to make the first step - and I wanted her - for once - for once, to swallow her pride and to - to… But I was wrong! I was fucking wrong! And now she's gone! She won't come back - I won't ever see her again! She doesn't want me anymore, and I'm -”

His sobs shook and overwhelmed him, tears flowing endlessly down his cheeks. His heart kept shattering, each piece breaking into a hundred shards over and over again.

All he could picture in his mind were big brown eyes, filled with tears, begging him not to go.

“I'm still stuck!” he wept, shaking his head. “I'm still - my heart is still hers! No matter how hard I try - how angry I am - how much distance - or time - I’m still searching for her - in every new person I meet, and - why the hell can't I move on?! Why am I the only one hurting still?! Kirishima and Ashido broke up around the same time - and they've returned to normal in no time! So why am I the one who's stuck?! And now, fucking Todoroki is saying that - that it's all my fault! That I’m the one who ruined it all - but I didn't imagine it! I didn't lie, I didn't run to other people - I didn't break my own fucking heart! The pain I felt, it was real! It was fucking real! I didn't -”

He paused, his sobs filling the air as he bit his lip, remorse sinking its teeth in his soul.

“I should have listened to her,” he admitted, his voice breaking miserably. “I should have - at least allowed her to - to explain herself - I wanted her to tell me - that she made a mistake - that she was sorry - that I was still in her thoughts - in her heart - that it didn't mean a thing - her leaving meant nothing - kissing that guy meant nothing - and we would still -”

Misery crushed his heart until Katsuki was left crying into his hands.

“Why did she lie to me? I wouldn't have thrown a fit - I wouldn't have pushed her away for her ambition! Why didn't she say something? Did she want us to break up before she left? Did she want me to leave her? Why did she - How did I lose her? How could I - why did I ever allow her to - to stray away from me - I lost her! I lost the only person I ever loved - and I - I lost one of my best friends!”

He sucked in a shuddery breath as the realisation hit deeper than he thought.

“I lost my friend!” he repeated, his voice drowned in his sobs. “I lost my friend…”

For a moment, the world around him simply disappeared. All Katsuki was left with were the torn pieces of his heart and the terrible truth he'd done everything in his power to run away from for three years.

Ochako was gone. She'd chosen a future from which he was absent, and Katsuki had preferred to lock his heart behind iron walls of fury rather than accept the fact that the only person he ever truly fell in love with had turned her back on him. 

And in his pain, he'd failed to realise he'd shattered her heart too.

“What would you have done if she came back?”

Fukuma's question tore through Katsuki's thoughts, returning him to the present. He opened his eyes and looked around the room through his tears.

“If Uraraka Ochako returned to Japan tomorrow, what would you do? Would you welcome her back? Would you be willing to put everything behind you? Or would you rather move on from your relationship once and for all?”

Katsuki shook his head, sniffling, and grabbed a fresh bunch of tissues.

Barely a month ago, his answer would have been immediate. He wouldn't have wanted anything to do with her anymore. Why would he ever allow back into his life someone who'd hurt him so deeply? She'd trampled on his pride, on the deep love and trust he had in her, throwing away everything they had  - and for what? 

But now, with his raw heart exposed and his deepest wish revealed…

“I don't know,” Katsuki admitted quietly, once more burying his face in his hands. “I don't know anymore.”