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Assistant: Title: From The Sidelines
        Author: suffocatingspring suffocatingspring 
        Chapter: 12/14 
        Summary: When long-time enemies, Bakugo Katsuki--the all-star athlete and rascal of Ise--and Izuku Midoriya, the town sweetheart, are paired together for a long-term project, the quiet beachside town of Ise suddenly gets a bit louder.In which, Katsuki is an @ssh@l@ pole vaulter, Izuku is going to fail psychology, and both are about to have the most intense spring semester yet.
        Contents: Chapter 12: The Maze
    

    


      
        
          40.1k words Forgive the pace, this one's kinda wack, but thank you so much for reading thus far. I love ftstwt & ftstown & just everyone in general to death. Playlist w/ all FTS songs: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0snFtSvokWIcPVSb62VXIy?si=65af4d1dd21045d2
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
     
  It’s sunny. 

  God, it was sunny. Through closed eyes, Katsuki could see the veins running through his skin, and the bright yellow rays piercing through his lids. And the air, it felt good on his face, brushing his hair across his brow ridge. It wasn’t too hot, with a bit of breeze sweeping through and the gorgeous sound of waves crashing and seagulls filled the morning air. 

  Underneath his back, Katsuki feels the soreness from the hard granite tiled floor, and if at any point he decides to get up off of the ground, he knows there will be a slight ache. Stuck to the underside of his arm were the tiny fragments of the porcelain he had shattered the previous night that. He had laid down on them without knowing, lost in the intensity of last night. 

  Bakugo Katsuki wishes that it would be one of those mornings where he got to enjoy a bit of oblivious peace, with a couple minutes of happiness before the memories of everything that has happened comes back. But he didn’t even get 
  that
   luxury: the luxury of forgetting for the few hours that he went to sleep. 

  No, in his dreams, he relived the same day again, over and over until it felt like he could recite Izuku’s words of goodbye. Until he felt like he could count the tears falling from the boy’s sweet face. And everytime, Katsuki does something different, says something different, to make Izuku stay. And yet, the green eyed boy never does. 

  Because out of all the things he says, it’s never the one phrase that would make a difference. 

  Katsuki opens his eyes finally, and comes face to face with a blue morning sky filled with gorgeous tufts of pure white clouds and equally white birds flying overhead. It was a beautiful morning, and that almost made him more upset than if the weather had matched the mood. Because it felt as if the world was already moving on from the events of yesterday, while he still could not grasp the fact that Izuku was gone, that Izuku loved him, and that he can barely handle it. 

  Reaching his arm out and feeling around for his phone, Katsuki takes a hold of it and tries to connect to the pill speaker. Music could help. The day just started, it wasn’t too late to get in the right mood. When a notification on his phone tells him the speaker had no battery left, Katsuki cursed just once under his breath. 

  
    Sh@t
  
  , the blonde says, closing his eyes again for a couple of seconds, before deciding to just play it from his phone and sets it next to his head. His movements were ragged, as if he was having trouble acting normal. Putting the playlist on shuffle, Katsuki rubs his temples at the song that comes up. 

  The downtrodden sound of Chris Isaak’s Wicked Games plays through his phone speakers, and Katsuki immediately dislikes how the song embodies just how defeated he felt. And this feeling. This 
  
    sensation
  
   of defeat was something he’s never felt before to this extent. He was Katsuki. Katsuki Bakugo. And defeat was not something he knew of. And yet, there it was in his chest and in his head. He is about to change the song, when the words come in, and Katsuki decides that he'll just let it play. 

  Katsuki just breathes out, "F@ck this sh@t."

  
    The world was on fire and no one could save me but you
  

  
    It's strange what desire will make foolish people do
  

  Katsuki looks up at the sky once more, still not having gotten up from his spot on the ground, and how sunny everything looked made him angry. And when he sits up, tiny pieces of porcelain fell from his back and arms to the tiles. How perfect and joyous the waves and the animals in the vicinity seemed made him angry. 

  He hated that it was a perfectly sunny day. He f@ck@ng hated that the birds were chirping. He hated that in the world, nothing seemed to change when in fact, everything 
  
    has
  
  . 

  The sky should be storming with him, Katsuki thought. The ocean should be murky and muddled alongside him, Katsuki thought. Time should have stopped when Izuku left him, but no. Instead, it’s beautiful this morning. 

  It’s so f@ck@ng beautiful, and it just drives Katsuki crazy. To Katsuki, it felt like the aftermath of a storm after everything being ruined. And there is just this painful acceptance that life moves on, even when you can’t get rid of the constant pain that’s killing you to feel. He sits there, drowning in his own misery, as the Earth continues to revolve around the sun. As the animals, blessed with ignorance of human emotions, carry about their day singing their beautiful songs and jumping up from the waters majestically. 

  This was the sad reality, wasn't it. In movies, when something like last night happens, the weather for the next week was always rainy, stormy. All of the sorts. Life stops for the main characters, and everything around them is put on pause until they fix whatever sh@t they had going on. But as Izuku so bitterly reminded him last night, life wasn't a movie. Life was cruel like this: it moved on. It produced sunny skies as if to spite his pain. 

  
    I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you
  

  
    
      And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you
    
  

  Ise. Why does nothing never seem to change in Ise? It’s like the same cycles over and over again. Sunny skies, gorgeous sunsets, perfect weather and appearances. Nothing f@ck@ng changes, and even after a night like last night, the world goes back to normal. The neverending cycle was killing him inside, because he was no different. It's like they say: the environment makes the person. Katsuki couldn’t f@ck@ng change either. He was just like this town, stuck in a constant loop of false content. False satisfaction with the person he was. And yet, it felt like he couldn’t change. Felt like he could try for a million years, and end up back in this cycle. 

  
    No, I don't wanna fall in love.
  

  The frustration makes him grit his teeth, and Katsuki picks up his phone and himself off of the ground and stands up, stretching his legs for the first time this day, and taking a look at the wreck in front of him. A broken dish, candles put out on the ground with wax that stuck to the tiles, food that was half shoved into open garbage bags and half just left out on the table or floor. Red and yellow petals shoved to the side, swept up by the wind and carried to the other side of the terrace. 

  His chest began to feel heavy again, and Katsuki grabs at it to stabilize his breathing, as he looked at the destruction. The blonde shakes his head, then turns around, refusing to look, and Chris Isaak’s voice accompanies him back into the house where he leans over the bar counter in the back of the living space. His phone is set to the side, and Katsuki looks up to the array of different liquors and mixers on the shelves. From the behind him, the open windows let in the sound of pretty ocean waves and the sun shines in and casts a nice yellow glow on the bar countertops, and Katsuki tilts his head up to the ceiling and lets out a strained breath. 

  If he could burn down this house so that it would get a little uglier, he would. But everything was perfect: from the dusty pink couches to the matching curtains, to the pattern of the marble on the countertop. It was perfect, and yet, he couldn’t f@ck@ng enjoy any of it because the only person who made any of this worth a d@mn thing was gone. 

  His red eyes move back up to the liquor shelves, and he wonders if now would be a good time to down a glass of scotch. Maybe the burn in the back of his throat and numb in his brain would feel better than the uncomfortable weight on his chest. Katsuki wasn’t a big drinker. 

  He had a drink or two at parties for the fun of it, but his substance of choice was Izuku. Izuku, with those sweet lips that stumbled over its words and laughs really prettily when Katsuki makes a dumb joke. Izuku, with those wild tuffs of green hair that would smell like lilies drowned in saltwater when they would get up from the beach. Izuku, with those 
  
    beautiful
  
   green eyes that Katsuki never got to tell him about. 

  As the blonde reaches up to grab a bottle of Scotch, aged 15 years in some fancy-pants distillery, he makes up all the ways that it could have happened. All the ways he could have told Izuku his eyes were beautiful. Where could they be? On the dock somewhere in Ise maybe, watching the sky turn from pink to purple, legs swinging over the water that’s crashing against the dock legs. Yes, that was good, Katsuki thought to himself. And just before it goes to twilight, Katsuki would have told him then, just how beautiful Izuku’s eyes were. But. 

  It wouldn’t have made a d@mn difference, Katsuki dryly chuckles to himself as he reaches down to the built-in freezer behind the countertop and pulls out pre-molded ice for the whiskey glass he had set out. It wouldn’t have made a d@mn difference, because he could tell Izuku all he wants how much he’s grown to like those eyes, but he couldn't ever say that he loves him. And so what’s the point. What then? If he were to sit side by side in that dock in his imagination, if he were to tell Izuku just before twilight hits, what then? Katsuki pours out a quarter glass, and swirled it in his hand. 

  Izuku would just be more hurt. That’s what. Because apparently, he has been treating the other like more than a friend, while promising that it can never be anything more. He chuckles humorlessly. He brings the glass to his lips, eyes looking forlorn in the distance. What did that even mean. 

  Tilting his head back a little, the scotch burned the back of his throat, and although everyone says whiskey is smooth going down, it really wasn’t. It was this harsh, burning feeling that immediately hit him with its intensity, sure to leave its essence in the back of his throat for a while. He knew this wasn’t quite the healthiest coping mechanism. And Katsuki, being who he was, having Nationals Qualifiers so close, didn’t have room to be f@ck@ng around with his body. He didn’t have room to be drinking liquor, or any of the sort. But in this state of mind, all Katsuki could say to everything else in this world is f@ck it. 

  He takes down the rest of the scotch glass, and then two more, until he can feel his brain lagging by two seconds with his vision when he turns his head from side to side. Because of his size and muscle composition, it took a lot more for him to get a bit tipsy than it would for most people. He was waiting for the positive effects to come in, the numbness and lack of recall. If he can just not recall the past 24 hours, he’ll be fine. 

  What Katsuki forgot was that alcohol was a depressant and an amplifier. If a person wasn’t already happy, then alcohol wasn’t going to make them happy. It only amplifies the emotions that were already there. And by the time he remembered that little fact, Katsuki was standing with both hands situated on either side of the bar counter, staring intently at the shine of the whiskey glass to distract himself from that intensely heavy sinking feeling in his gut again. 

  It felt as if at some point last night, the floodgates had been opened, and now, he was trying his d@mn hardest to close them up again. He was 
  
    not
  
   going to repeat last night. 

  But as Katsuki brings his hands over to grab onto his phone, wishing for some happier tunes than this desolate guitar from Chris Isaak’s song, he notices his fingers shaking. And in his slightly influenced mind, it jogs the memories of how he had reacted last night, which then sent him into a spiral of preventative panic. 
Because last night. Last night, it started with his hands shaking too, and he knew how that turned out. Shaking his head, heart pounding a bit from fear of having another unwanted breakdown over Izuku f@ck@ng leaving, Katsuki tried to take any preventative measure. He needed to talk. Now. If he were to be left with himself, it’ll happen again. He'll break down again. He needs to talk to someone, about anything. Pole vault. That’s it. He needs to talk about pole vaulting. That’ll drive his mind away. 
  Grabbing his phone, he opens it up to the front screen, and stares at the notifications he has on every platform. At any given time, at least 50 messages. At any given time, at least 10 missed calls. At any given time, more notifications from socials that he could count. And yet, when his brain went through the motions of finding someone to call, he could think of no one. His eyes travelled from contact to contact, before pressing Kirishima’s number. 

  On the third ring, his red headed friend answers, “Bakugo!” He drags out the blonde’s name. 

  And yes, this was good. Kirishima was a high energy source, which he needed right now. 

  Clearing his throat, and almost out of reflex putting on a collected show, Katsuki speaks into the line, “Sh@tty Hair.”

  “What’s up, All Star?” Kirishima replied with a big whoop, “Have you seen the news? Ise is naming you their All Star Athlete 2021.”

  Katsuki gruffly laughs, “For the 4th year in a row?” 

  This was good. They were on the subject of pole vault. Katsuki feels a bit more relaxed. This is good, he repeats internally. If they keep talking like this, he'll calm down from his delirium. 

  “Hey bud, if you don’t want the title, I’ll gladly take it,” Ejirou offered on the other side.

  “Nah. Fail a grade and try again next year when I’m gone,” Katsuki wipes at his nose.

  “So harsh,” Eijirou tsked, "Honestly, I don't think I'll have to fail on purpose. At the rate I'm going in trig, I actually might."

  "Dude," Katsuki snorts, "It's trig. You're literally just solving triangles."

  "That's not even fair man," Eijirou complained, "In that case, pole vault isn't hard. You're literally just jumping over sticks."

  "Woah now, @ssh@l@. Don't blaspheme," Katsuki clicks his tongue jokingly.

  "My bad, my bad," Kirishima chuckles before letting out a sound of curiosity, “Anyways, so what’s up. You need anything?”

  Katsuki looked down at his fingernails tapping on the side of the crystal glass, “Just wanted to talk.”

  “Oh-ho! You just wanted to talk, huh,” Kirishima seemed excited, “Who is this and what have you done to Bakugo? Mr. I’m-All-Cool-And-People-Approach-Me-Not-The-Other-Way-Around lookin’ m@th@rf@ck@r.” He laughs. 

  The blonde rolls his eyes, “You’re really milkin’ it now, you son of a b@tch.”

  “I’m just messing with you, man. Of course I’m happy to talk,” Eijirou settles down now, and then asks, “But I gotta ask, did Midoriya finally get sick of you or something?” Eijirou laughs, but Katsuki wants to throw up. God, he wants to throw up right f@ck@ng then. 

  Kirishima says the absolute worst words to hear at the moment, and Katsuki involuntarily reels, speaking into the phone with an almost dangerous edge in his voice, “Change the subject right f@ck@ng now.”

  “Woah, woah,” Eijirou has known Katsuki long enough to back up immediately at the sound of that tone, “I was just playing again.”

  “I don’t care,” Katsuki says blankly, “Change the subje-”

  “You two are super tight, I was just joking,” Kirishima continues, as if trying to save his skin, “No seriously, I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten to you like Midoriya has. That dude really cares for y-”

  Katsuki hangs up the phone, and sets it down on the counter. No. Not today.

  He’d rather just go back to sleep. And so, with a slight heaviness in his steps, Katsuki avoids both of the bedrooms and collapses on the couch, unfolding a blanket and pulling up to cover his eyes from the disgustingly sunny day. He'll sleep this away. It was a Sunday. What did he need to do anyways. Stay awake and think of Izuku? Hell f@ck@ng no. 

  And when he wakes up again, it was dark enough that the blonde didn’t want to wretch. With his anger simmered and his internal strife numbed down, the blonde drives back. The radio is turned off, and the road back into town is silent aside from the crickets and cicadas. He hates how he used to listen to music so mindlessly, with no attention to the lyrics, and now, it’s all he can focus on when he plays a song. 
  
    Isn’t that why you listen to all of those songs? Because you want to love?
  
   No, Katsuki refutes. No way. He doesn’t even let himself think about it. Instead, Katsuki blocks out all thought from within his mangled mind, and numbly drives back all the way home, forcing himself to think of the road and only the road.  
 
  The thought of going back to Ise High on Monday didn’t sit well with Katsuki, because what the 
  
    f@ck
  
   was he supposed to do when he sees Midoriya Izuku again. When he got back to his house last night, from his stature alone, neither his mother or father tried to make conversation or tried to ask him where he was this past weekend. 

  Of course they wouldn’t, Katsuki snickers to himself as he throws his sh@t on the floor and heads straight for the shower. The moment they see a scowl on his face, they back off and don't even bother.

  And so, as Katsuki makes his drive up to Ise High at 7:35 in the morning on Monday, he has one hand on the wheel and one hand distractedly rubbing his bottom lip. Inko had picked up the greenette Saturday night. Katsuki wonders what Izuku had been doing since then. Did the boy cry any more? Katsuki hoped he didn’t. Not over someone like him. Has he been getting enough sleep, or enough to eat? Has he been okay? 

  Katsuki doesn’t f@ck@ng know what there is to do now. It was the last week of class, and they were still project partners. He didn't even know why Mr. Toshinori made the project partners hang out up until the very last week. It didn't even matter since the final analysis was due Thursday of this week anyways. Katsuki knew that some of their classmates was simultaneously writing their final report and doing the project, but the blonde hasn’t started yet, and he was sure Izuku hadn’t either or else that would have come up sometime in the months they’ve been doing this together. But what they were going to do for this final hour, Katsuki had no f@ck@ng clue.

  Because from how their conversation turned out, it didn’t seem like Izuku was very f@ck@ng keen on seeing him. And if Katsuki were to be honest with himself, at this point, he didn’t know what to say to the d@mn nerd if he were to see him anyways. 

  Stay? Stay and do what. Pretend that Izuku wasn’t in love with him, and go back to how it was? Pretend that Katsuki didn’t get addicted to those eyes, and that Izuku didn’t feel a part of him die inside when Katsuki spends yet another day not able to feel the same way? 

  Katsuki’s had his fair share of awkward encounters. When girls or guys want something more of him after a one-night stand, and when Katsuki sees them at school the next day, it’s usually awkward on their part. But never has Katsuki 
  
    himself
  
   felt nervous. 

  And yet now, as he approaches the school parking lot, he’s so f@ck@ng distracted at the thought of seeing Izuku again that he barely saw another car in his peripheral vision, and when he did, his foot slammed on the brakes so hard that his entire body lurched forward at the rapid stop.  

  “F@ck, 
  
    sh@t
  
  ,” Katsuki furrows his brows and rested his head back against his seat for a second, before looking over to the vehicle that he had almost cut into, only to curse even more, left leg bouncing intensely on the floor of the car. His luck was just incredible. It was a cop car that he could have t-boned. A f@ck@ng cop car.

  A cop car that was currently turning so that it could park on the side and flag Katsuki down. Bringing one hand to rub at his temples, Katsuki took in a deep breath at how 
  
    sh@t
  
   this day was going already and turned on his hazard lights to wait on the side of the road. Tickets here in Ise weren't usually expensive, but he didn't have to deal with going to court to turn it in.

  When a knock comes on his windows, Katsuki rolls it down to begrudgingly talk to the cop. 

  The blonde’s eyes look slightly forlorn as he looks out the window at the hunched over cop, “Oh, Mr. Hidashi.”

  “Bakugo?” The policeman in question raised both his brows and breaks into a grin, patting the roof of Katsuki’s car, “How have you been, son?”

  Katsuki turns back to face the front and shakes his head slightly, “I’ve been fine.”

  The cop whistled, “You don’t look fine, and hey,” He put both hands out in defense of the boy, “That’s perfectly okay. You got a lot of pressure on your shoulders, don’t ya. With Nationals Qualifiers coming up and all. Make Ise proud, alright? I bet you're working real hard,” He pumps his fist. 

  Like it was an automated response coded into his system, Katsuki nods, “Of course.”

  And there’s a bit of an awkward silence between the two of them for a moment. 

  Before Katsuki furrows his brows and looked over and up at the cop, asking, “I almost ran the stop. I almost hit your car. You ain’t gonna give me a ticket?”

  Katsuki knew all he needed to say. He’s told Izuku this before, long ago. All he needed to say was 
  
    sorry sir, I won’t do it again
  
  . Or any rendition of that. And he knew he would be fine. But this morning, Katsuki decides to push it out of annoyance. No one seems to f@ck@ng care about anything he does around here. All he does is win, and yet, none of it felt that great anymore. 

  The cop waved an arm off with a careless look, “You’re good, kid. It happens to everyone. Besides, I’m sure you got a lot on your mind because of the tournament, I don’t blame ya.”

  Katsuki nods slowly and grips the steering wheel tight, “Right. Of course I’m good.”

  “What’s that?” Mr. Hidashi leaned down, ears pointing towards Katsuki, “Sorry, my hearing is-”

  “I said,” Katsuki should shut up right about now, but he doesn't, “Let’s say I hurt someone. Let’s say I actually did hit someone. Would having a lot of my mind be a good enough excuse?” Or is it just because it's me.

  Why was he invincible in this little town? Why is he, someone who hurt people and didn’t deserve half the d@mn praise he gets, immune from any real consequences. Why did he deserve this. Because he jumped well? Why was he invincible to everything, except for a certain  pair of f@ck@ng green eyes and a nice laugh.

  “Oh, um,” The cop stood back up with his back straight, almost as if he was embarrassed, before shrugging, sticking by his original verdict, “There’s no point in dwelling on what hasn’t happened, Katsuki. Just don’t worry about it, okay? Just head into school, and have yourself a nice day, alright?” He patted the top of Katsuki’s car and let him off. 

  Without another word, Katsuki left. 
 
  Izuku wasn’t there on Monday. Katsuki had been internally dreading seeing the other all d@mn morning, just to find the greenette’s seat empty in the first class they had together. Immediately, a feeling of concern washed over him, followed by guilt, because he had a strong intuitive feeling that Izuku’s absence was linked to the events of this weekend. As if out of habit, his hands reach into his phone and opened up his text message conversation with the boy. And his fingers actually managed to type in a “U okay?” before his brain caught up, and his actions froze in their tracks. If no one was around, he’d be laughing right now, because what made him think sending a text like this when everything is so fresh would be okay. Putting his phone back into his pocket, Katsuki accepted that he just wasn’t going to find out unless Izuku wanted him to. 

  Izuku’s absence makes going about the day a little easier, especially if he convinces himself that he was fine, and that the past two days had just been a moment of weakness. But Katsuki knew that the moment that he sees Izuku again, all the beautiful memories and all of those nights spent laughing at something f@ck@ng stupid with Izuku’s head on his lap will resurface. He just knows it. 

  He won’t know what to do when he looks into those eyes again and sees a world of love just waiting for him that he feels he can’t return. The blonde doesn’t blame the boy. All of this time, he’s been internally needing Izuku to stay, not even aware that by staying, Izuku was hurting more with a love he can’t get returned. He doesn’t blame Izuku. 

  But that doesn’t mean that Katsuki doesn’t numb his mind just to get through the day. Teachers’ voices drone on endlessly, and he takes notes just so that his hands and mind would be actively doing something. Lunch is quiet on his part, and surprisingly enough, on Kaito Sen’s part. The brunette did not seem like he was in the mood to talk much, and for the first time, Katsuki felt as if they had something in common. Because honestly, he didn’t either. Sitting back, Katsuki chewed on his food and sipped on his drink until the time ticked down to his next class. 

  Bakugo Katsuki practiced like he was making up for a semester’s worth. Monday meant team practice. Katsuki didn’t bother to look towards the sidelines. Izuku wasn’t there. Even after the team left, the blonde set up camp, intending to be there at the practice track for as long as he could before his muscles gave out. He needed this. He needed to focus on Nationals Qualifiers, the most important thing at the moment, and hopefully, that will tear his mind away from thinking of anything else. 

  As he stands on the track, pole in hand, and bar set to 18’2, he breathes in and out, sweat dripping down his brow ridge and sharp eyes focused only on the impossible height before him. He wasn’t good at emotions. He wasn’t good at making someone as bright and f@ck@ng wonderful as Izuku happy. He wasn’t good at any of that sh@t. What he 
  
    was
  
   good at was this: this sport. This sport is all that he has left. 

  The athlete practices until his hands feel like they had probably worn down the pole, until his arms feel like mush. But even then, he kept going. As long as he was careful enough not to tear a muscle, he’ll be fine. From his pill speaker, music was playing, but his mind was practically so drowned out that all he could hear was the blood pumping in his veins, the labored breathing from his mouth, and the clank of the pole slamming into the vault box in the moment before he’s launched up into the sky. 

  He’s trying to chase that feeling. The feeling that was so easy for him to get before: of flying so high above everyone else and being so close to the clouds that it’s euphoric. He needed that euphoria again, now more than ever. He fails the 18’2. That’s fine. He doesn’t need it for Nationals Qualifiers. It’ll help though. If he manages to vault an 18’2 at Nationals Qualifiers, then that will be his new official record ever since his last recorded one in Youth Nationals last year. If he manages to vault an 18’2, then that will practically guarantee him a victory in semis and finals level 
  Nationals. That’s what he needed to focus on right now. 

  When 9PM hits, his body gives out and he collapses onto the landing mat with his entire being sore and done for the day. He feels his chest inhale and exhale a million times. On the drive home, his music was blared loudly as if to drown out the phantom sound of Izuku’s laughter in the passenger seat. And upon arriving home, he beelines towards the shower, and does all that he can to expedite the time it takes for him to drift off into sleep, where he prays his dreams will be more pleasant than his reality. 
  
  “No f@ck@ng way,” Mina Ashido screeches near them, “You’re kidding me. That did 
  
    not
  
   happen.”

  “I’m not lying, I swear,” Denki puts both hands up in defense, “I couldn’t make this up if I tried!”

  “That’s true,” Ejirou snorts, elbowing the yellow haired friend, “That takes a little too much brain power.”

  As of current, Denki had just finished telling a story about something he saw walking home just the other night, but Katsuki only picked up bits and pieces even though he was sight 
  
    right
  
   there, because just a couple meters away, Midoriya Izuku was sitting 
  
    right
  
   there. 

  Tuesday, the greenette shows up, and upon seeing the pretty boy in physics, Katsuki’s stomach f@ck@ng sinks and he contemplates calling in a sick day right then and there just so that he doesn’t have to relive every f@ck@ng memory they’ve ever had in his head every single time his eyes dart towards Izuku’s direction. The worst part of this all was that the boy with the sun kissed freckles and pretty lips didn’t avoid his eye or anything. When they walked past each other on the way to turning in an assignment, Izuku caught his eye and with the tiniest, pained smile, simply nodded. 

  It was just as he said the very last time they slept together. From strangers, to rivals, to friends. And now, it felt as if they were back to strangers. Katsuki hates seeing those saddened eyes, the lack of substance in their interaction just now, the nod as if they were just those kind of friends that see each other once a year rather than three to four times a week. 

  So this was the reality of how relationships die. It isn’t like in the dramas where a blow up happens, and everything absolutely erupts into chaotic flames. In reality, it’s a bit more harsh. Katsuki gets to see it as it all goes down. The small half-hearted smiles with the meaningless nod, the slow drift apart until their eyes won’t even meet anymore, and maybe one day in the future, a distant “how have you been” once its all ash and dust. 

  “Bakugo?” Their professor takes him out of his thoughts, and Katsuki realizes then that he’s been holding on to his worksheet, not having dropped it in the bin, for a good minute now, just staring intently off. 

  Being brought back to reality, the blonde drops his work and wordlessly turns around. And the entire class period, he couldn’t stop thinking about that solemn face, marked with slightly dark circles and a smile that wasn’t quite there. It looks like even after all this time, Izuku still had trouble not pretending he was happy when he wasn’t. 

  And as of right then, everyone was in the cafeteria. Katsuki on one side of the table, sandwiched between some of his teammates. Izuku, just a couple of meters away, close enough for earshot and for Katsuki to occasionally look over and see that similar to him, Izuku was sitting to the side eating quietly while his friends were doing most of the talking. 

  “Oi Bakugo,” Denki called his attention back to the conversation at hand. 

  Katsuki hums in acknowledgement. 

  “What shift are you taking tomorrow?” His teammate asked.

  The blonde completely blanks, “Shift?”

  “At the fundraiser,” Denki blinks as if there was no way Katsuki could have forgotten, “You know...the one Ise High does every year? The one our team volunteers at every year? The one w-”

  “I got it, you sh@th@@d,” Katsuki thumbs his temple and asked out of obligation, “What are we working this year.” He's been so preoccupied that he had forgotten entirely. 

  “The mirror maze,” Ejirou cuts in, “There’s a couple of shifts left. You need to sign up before Coach gets onto you, man.”

  "I'm captain, you idiot," Katsuki reminded him, "I'm forced to take any and all shifts you m@th@rf@ck@rs don't sign up for anyways."

  Remembering this, Eijirou remarked, "Oh yeah, my bad."

  “Besides, Coach ain’t gonna do sh@t to me,” Katsuki grabs a napkin to wipe at his mouth, “I just gave him an 18’1 PR.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Mina stares at him with wide eyes, “When did you hit that?”

  “Not too long ago,” Katsuki answers plainly, as he pulls out his phone to check what shifts were left empty that he had to take. 

  Every year, Ise High does a giant fundraiser in the back of the school grounds, where there was a good amount of open land, where all of the proceeds get donated to Alzheimer’s research, and it’s the same stuff every year. Mini b@mper cars, those inflatable jungle gyms and slides, lemonade stands, crafts tables, and the mirror maze were always popular. It was mostly for kids, but the parents 
  
    chaperoning
  
   the kids were the main targets. After all, if it was an event targeted for teens, then parents would have an easy time saying no if their brat were to ask for this or for that. 

  But since the activities were generally more geared towards younger children in the community, what was a parent going to say to their 4 year old brat that wanted a t-shirt with the worst f@ck@ng design on it. No? And look like an @ssh@l@ in front of the other more generous parents? Nah. It was a trap scheme. But it was a trap scheme that was designated towards a good cause, so Katsuki doesn't mind taking a couple hours of his day every year to help work it.

  “You’re a god,” Sero stared in shock, “I’ve barely gotten my PR up 3 inches in the last semester. Lend us your secrets, now.”

  Katsuki ran a hand through his hair while his eyes averted the others and without really thinking, just replied quietly, “Found new motivations.”

  This caused the table to 
  
    ooh
  
   and 
  
    ahh
  
   at the strange comment, with some poking at Katsuki. 

  “New motivations? Tell us more, All Star,” Sero had a huge grin on his face.

  “Nothing more to tell,” Katsuki would like this conversation to end now. 

  “Hey man, you brought it up,” Sero wagged his brows, before holding out a fake mic formed from his fists as if he was interviewing the blonde, “So tell us, Mr. Bakugo. What has been your newfound motivation for these incredible feats of athleticism?”

  Coming towards them and sliding into an open seat at the table, a feminine voice chirped in playfully, “A lover is my guess.”

  Katsuki’s sharp eyes turned to Kimi right away at her comment, and the statement almost shocked him, and his expression broke for a moment. From the side, he hears the sound of choking from what seems to be Izuku’s table, but he doesn’t turn to look. 

  Instead, Katsuki just looks back down and relaxes his shoulders. 

  Mina points to Kimi with a playful accusation, “You’re not referring to you, are you, hot stuff?” She asked with a wink. 

  The brunette girl rolls her eyes with a smile, “I wish. We're just friends," She smiled before scolding Katsuki, "Although, you still owe me one for embarassing me last time." Katsuki's neck turns red at the memory. 

  "Last time?" Mina leans in and asks with a wag of her brow, "Tell us, Kimi. What happened last time?"


  "Mina," Katsuki warned, just looking at his drink, tone telling her to back down. 

  "Oh uh," Kimi flushed, "Mina, I already...mentioned to you in...private..." She stammered, and her eyes looked over to Katsuki apologetically, and she turns quickly to Bakugo, "I promise I only told Mina. I didn't tell any-"

  "It's fine," Katsuki waves off. He was more than used to people blabbing the day after, and most people didn't even bother to apologize, so he excused Kimi, but who he wasn't excusing his friend who was trying to imply something, "Min-"

  "Yes, but come on, girl," Mina tried to milk something out of the brunette volleyball player, "How can you say you're just friends," Mina turned to wink at a blank faced Katsuki, "Since you know, you guys did it?"

  Kimi’s eyes widened, and she shook her head, “What? No, that’s not what I told y-”

  “First of all,” Katsuki grips the leg of the table tightly just so that there is some form of control in his facial expression. His chest was filled with a bit of a rage, and it seems like each day presents some new breaking point. He directed his statements at Mina, “If we 
  
    did
  
  , that’s none of your d@mn business, much less at the f@ck@ng table right now,” His crimson eyes go up to meet her wide eyes, “Do you have no respect for me at all?” He spat. 

  The table tensed up. Mina was his friend, Katsuki would say. She was funny, gave somewhat good advice when it came to general things, smart, but her fatal flaw was that the girl had a flair for the dramatic. And that was fine. Plenty of people do. Aoyama. Tokoyami. Even Katsuki occasionally had a flair for the dramatic. But Mina had the benefit of being likeable enough that everyone tells her everything that's going on, and when it's relayed, details are usually added or missing to make stories more juicy. He's teased her before for it, but this time, it wasn't nearly as funny. 

  “Secondly,” Katsuki knew he probably shouldn't say this, “If you actually listened to the g@dd@mn gossip you’re told instead of picking and choosing what makes for the better story, maybe you would have heard Kimi right the first time. Instead of spreading sh@t that’s ruined everyth-”

  “Oi, oi, Bakugo,” Kirishima reached for his shoulder, “You’re going back to your old ways, man. Calm down.”

  “Don’t f@ck@ng put your hand on me,” Katsuki brushed him aside, “So what. I’m just supposed to f@ck@ng sit here and listen to you make up sh@t about my f@ck@ng life as if I’m not here? And I can’t get angry, or else I’m the @ssh@l@? Well guess what, maybe I haven’t changed.” He said out of impulse, even though he knew it wasn't true. 

  “B-Bakugo,” Mina looked a bit embarrassed, but still tried to salvage herself, “Of course I respect you. Just...can you chill out? It’s just for fun.”

  Katsuki rolled his eyes, “Stop treating me like I’m some f@ck@ng caged animal. This goes for the rest of you. Dunce Face, you aren’t much better.” 

  It was at this point that Kimi jumped in, face looking a bit concerned at how the conversation was going, “Hey, I didn’t mean any harm by telli-”

  “I know,” Katsuki pushed his face in his hands as if a bit stressed out, “I know you didn't. You're fine.”

  Kimi was a nice girl, Katsuki understood that. She hadn’t done anything wrong, or at least, anything that wasn’t normal for people to do. She had a likeable personality, pretty face, and she hadn’t even seemed overly antagonizing or offended at his lack of performance the night they hung out. Obviously, she was embarassed, but who wouldn't be if the person they were trying to hook up with won't get hard for them. For what it was, Kimi took it relatively well. It was just that with Katsuki, everything and anything that 
  
    can
  
   get twisted, 
  
    will
  
   get twisted. And he’s just 
  
    stuck
  
   in this box, where he will forever be reduced to an arrogant f@ckboy with emotional issues, and that’s all that society deems him fit to be. 

  Moving his face out of his hands, but still holding a clasped hand up to cover his mouth, Katsuki stares out at the table with blank eyes. He had nothing left to say, and the strain in the air was thick, but that wasn’t his problem to deal with. Katsuki knew it was irresponsible to just throw all civility out the window because his personal life was going to sh@t, but he could barely help himself. 

  To clear the tension and get the conversation back on track, Eijirou just chuckles a bit nervously and makes a show out of elbowing Katsuki. 

  “So, it's not a lover then. Got it,” Eijirou laughs, and the table laughs too. The sound of amused chuckling rippled through the table, from all except Katsuki and two others.  Kaito and Kimi.

  “Of course not,” Sero threw a carrot at the redhead jokingly, “This is Bakugo we’re talking about here.”

  And as if it was some trophy or accomplishment, the vaulter with raven hair threw an arm over Katsuki’s shoulder and told the table, “He’s a legend. He can do everything and have anything he wants. You think this hunk,” pointing towards Katsuki who sat there with both hands clasped in front of him and elbows on the table, “...is gonna fall in love and settle? Why would he!”

  He said it like it was a good thing, like the last thing anyone could ever expect from a man like Katsuki was love. He’s had these comments thrown at him over and over again throughout the years, and they’ve never bothered him. But right then, it feels just a little too close to home for this taste. Still, Katsuki sat there, eyes looking off while he just sits in the commotion, with everyone at the table praising him. 

  “Ah, very true words spoken,” Mina Ashido seemed to have gotten over the past few minutes and looked at Katsuki playfully, “Tell us, can a god like you feel love?”

  “Nahh,” Eijirou speaks to the crowd while shaking Katsuki’s shoulders. He was pulled in by Sero on his left, and Eijirou on his right, and they were both trying to make him feel all big and unstoppable, yet in this moment, Katsuki has never felt more small and ripped apart, “That’s for mortals. Don’t ask for too much, guys. We’re lucky if we can even get a clap on the back after practice,” He laughs.

  Katsuki simply sits there. He knew they were all playing around, but it felt like all of these statements were derived from some common perception of him. And so, he just sits there, and simmers in the words. After all, their goal was to make him feel cool and untouchable. A couple months ago, he might have said a hell yeah! and laughed with them.

  “
  
    I’m
  
   lucky if I can get him to say my actual name,” Another vaulter blurts and the table laughs in agreement. 

  And like they were going around in an icebreaker circle, yet another person added to the potluck, “I’m lucky if he even 
  
    remembers
  
   my name. Oi, Bakugo,” the boy with pink hair turns to their captain, “I’m starting believe you only know your own name.” He laughs. 

  From his peripheral, Katsuki saw Kimi’s eyes dart back and forth between the interactions of the vaulters and their captain, and with a confused laugh, she takes Katsuki’s side, “Oh come on guys. Bakugo, tell them you’re a cool guy. Isn’t this a bit...” Her expression looked a little nervous.

  Katsuki doesn’t plan on saying anything. 

  He didn’t have to. Denki waved her off, “Don’t worry about it, Kimi! We’re always like this with each other. Bakugo doesn’t mind, right Cap?” Denki looks over to Katsuki’s stoic face. Everyone starts to chime in to reassure her. 

  “Seriously, don’t worry about it. Throw something at him. The harshest thing you've got. It's amazing actually. We’re all convinced he can barely feel pain-”

  "Then again," Someone calls out in response, "We're also convinced he can't feel happiness. Which is it! Choose one or the other," He says, and the table laughs again. 

  “But yeah, it’s all good," People kept reassuring Kimi, who still looked hesitant, "Cap can handle anything. This is nothin-”

  "Let's just say this, he's heard a lot wors-"

  “-on’t get too worked up over it, Kimi. Seriously, he doesn’t mind.”

  “He couldn’t if he tried,” Someone piped in, in response to the previous statement, reassuring Kimi, “Cap’s really chill. Honestly, I admire it. He really doesn’t care about anything except for pole vau-”

  From just a couple meters away, a foreign voice broke their conversation with a sternness they haven’t really heard before. 

  “Guys, stop it,” Midoriya Izuku turned his body partially to address the table of vaulters crowding Katsuki, but his eyes met each person’s gaze dead on. Even with those bags and faint dark circles, there was clear disdain in those green eyes, as Izuku revealed he had been listening. From his side, the boy’s friends looked like they stopped too, and looked surprised at Izuku’s sudden declaration. 

  Katsuki doesn’t move from his positioning, but that didn’t mean his attention didn’t go immediately to the voice he knows by heart, probably better than his own, when Izuku spoke up. The greenette had only said three words, yet there was this internal feeling of rescue that Katsuki felt in his gut when Izuku had spoken up for him. All of these words thrown at him were ones that he was used to and has accepted himself for the most part, but they hit a little hard today. 

  Inside of his jaw, his teeth was locked tight together and Katsuki refused to say anything because he knew nothing coming out of his mouth would matter. 

  “...Eh?” Mina blinked, a little confused by the sudden intrusion, “Stop...what?”

  Izuku looked down, lips opening and closing, before stammering out, “All of it. Kacchan cares.”

  Katsuki felt his entire heart f@ck@ng turn in his chest at the acknowledgement. And never in his life did he miss hearing that nickname than he did now, and all he wanted to f@ck@ng do now was take Izuku’s arm and they run away to do something stupid together. But 
  
    f@ck
  
  , he couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. 

  “Oh you don’t have to say that because you’re afraid of Bakug-” Someone says.

  Izuku stands up suddenly, eyes fuming with anger, and mouth open ready to say something in refutation, and by the looks of it, everyone knew that something was about to burn up in flames. However, before the greenette could even let a word out, someone even 
  
    more
  
   unexpected came into the conversation. 

  “He’s not afraid of Bakugo,” Kaito Sen says from the other end of the table, eyes staring intently at his grapes as his fork pushes them around. It was the very first time that the brunette spoke up during this entire debacle, and what more, it almost seemed like he wasn’t teasing the blonde. Kaito continues, tone completely serious, “If anything, it’s more like the other way around.”

  Everyone’s ears were turned towards Kaito, who most people knew to have never liked Katsuki in the slightest, almost afraid of what the brunette could say to add fuel to the fire. The last thing they expected was for the rival to extinguish that fire. The tension at the table was tight. Izuku looked like he was willing to fight someone. And Kaito looked thoroughly irritated.

  “One more thing,” Kaito pops a grape into his mouth, not looking at Katsuki or anyone in particular, “Shut up. All of you need to shut up.” 

  And for now, that was all that the brunette had to say. 
  

  Katsuki felt internally surprised himself. After what happened the last time they interacted, in the locker room, the last f@ck@ng thing that he expected was for Kaito Sen to take his side. He didn’t let it show on his face, or in his body language. But he catalogues it in his mind. For some f@ck@ng reason, Kaito Sen took an opposite take from his usual approach. 

  “What is it now,” The vaulter with pink hair from earlier who claimed Katsuki didn’t know anyone’s name but his own laughs, “You spend all these years saying the same things we’re saying but worse, and now, you want to give us sh@t for i-”

  “Taichi Ishihara,” Katsuki said then, slowly shrugging himself out of the seat and standing up, grabbing his bag, and his face was blank as he moves casually, “Number 6. Record: 13’4. You’re 5’10. 163 pounds. You like to go into a vault starting from the left side of your body due to the injury you got last October. You’re stressed out because your d@mn girlfriend wants to do long distance for college, but you want to go to the same one,” Katsuki recites the things he overhears during practice, “You got a C in calculus, but you haven’t told your dad who’s an accountant. You’re planning on dying your hair green with the help of some friend of yours. You want to get your mom a nice necklace for her birthday, so you’ve been taking extra shifts at the restaurant.” 

  Katsuki does this all without breaking his movement of swinging the backpack over his shoulder, tying his shoe on the seat he was just in, and turning around to head out of the cafeteria before lunch even ends, all while rendering Taichi, who had claimed just minutes earlier that he’d be lucky if the captain even knew his 
  
    name
  
  , speechless and internally and unequivocally guilty.  

  "Yeah," Katsuki says, not revealing that he is affected in his voice, "I guess you could say I know your f@ck@ng name."

  And as he exits the cafeteria, Katsuki shoves in his headphones and doesn't even notice the silence he left behind. 
 
  It’s on his mind all d@mn day, and Katsuki wishes that he could get it out. He wishes he could get all of those d@mn words out, but now, more than ever, it seems like his brain wanted to remind him of every single f@ck@ng time he’s ever been told of how f@ck@ng emotionally useless he was. The day passes like a blur, for strings of words occupy his mind without a break. 
  
    He couldn’t if he tried. You can’t love someone if you’re like this. ...he’s never gonna be able to love anyone. Because he’s a lunatic. -only cares about himself. He’s not capable of love. 
  
  It’s like mantras in his head, repeating again and again, until he was sick of it all. And that was barely scratching the surface. And he knew these things. 
He knew everything that people were saying wasn’t too far off, but my f@ck@ng god, this did not feel good. 
  Katsuki repeats his routine from yesterday, and when practice comes along, he breezes through team practice without mentioning a word about what happened earlier, and each time someone tried to approach him about it, he’d just brush them off. Katsuki’s chest felt f@ck@ng heavy throughout the entire day, and he knew that he was just building up all of these d@mn emotions again. 

  It seems like since the first breakdown he’s had, the rest have been coming out easier and easier. And that did not sit well with him. Almost two decades worth of never shedding a tear over any f@ck@ng thing, hit its boiling point three nights ago, and now, it seems like the water refused to cool down. 

  He takes it out on his pole after team practice ends, and the bar that was set on 18’2 never felt more desirable. 

  Turning on his speaker, Katsuki puts on Heaven Only Knows by Richard Marx, and uses the electric guitar to get his motivation up. 

  He focused his attention on making the jump, desperate to get all of the words thrown at him today out of his mind. He shouldn’t f@ck@ng care about what those extras had to say. But internally, Katsuki knew that those weren’t just extras, no matter how much he likes to say it. Those were his friends, his teammates, all in agreement that he was like this: that he’s always been f@ck@ng like this. If his own d@mn friends and teammates were saying this, then of course they’d be right. Sure, they were exaggerating on some stuff. He knew their names, he knew plenty of things about them. He cared about their performances, and if they were hurt, he’d worry. 

  But were they right about everything else? If they were wrong, why would they say it so often over the years? If they were wrong, why would his own mother and father believe the same sh@t. If they were wrong, why would Katsuki had convinced himself all this time of the same sh@t. 

  That’s right. It's because they weren’t wrong. He knew this, and yet, coming to the realization again hit him like a jolt of lightning, and he collapsed on the back of the mat, after 
  
    so close
  
   to getting the 18’2, and instead of feeling ecstatic over his progress, he feels the side of him that was mentally obsessing over the events of today win over, and that heavy weight in his chest got even more d@mning and he put a hand on his heart while blowing air out of his mouth to calm himself. He shouldn’t have played Richard Marx, knowing how the 80s singer tended to sound like the will to live has been sucked out of him in everything he sings.

  The whole reason he was throwing himself into vault tonight in the first place was to get all of this sh@t out of his mind, but he was on the losing end, and before he knew it, Katsuki was hunched over the landing mat, both hands holding himself up with his head tilted down as he forces his eyes to dry up. He takes audible breaths, and talks himself out of it. 

  “Get ahold of yourself, @ssh@l@,” Katsuki tells himself between breaths, eyes almost bloodshot as he forces the wetness to redact itself, “F@ck. Get ahold of yourself.”

  And all the words flash back in his head again. All the claims, all the jokes that he can’t love, that he is coldhearted and that it was how he'll always be. These were the reasons why Izuku left. Everything around him constantly reaffirms this fact, and having that constant reminder is f@ck@ng with him immensely. Not the mention having the greenette so near, yet so far at the same time. 

  Katsuki was losing his sh@t again, and he wonders when it got so easy for him to break down like this. It was like, prior to three days ago, getting him to this point was d@mn near impossible. Yet now that the floodgates were open, he couldn’t f@ck@ng stop himself. Katsuki wonders if this was how Izuku had felt when the boy begin to get himself get angry after years of never doing so. His shoulders were shaking, and his grip on the mat got tighter as the veins in his forehead bulged out more from the pressure he was putting on his body to not let himself go. He just needs to stay like this, and not say anything, and not think of anything, until it goes away and he goes back to nor-

  “K-Kacchan?” A worried voice ran up to him, and Katsuki’s immediately looked away automatically. 

  He knew what it looked like. His shoulders were f@ck@ng shaking, he was hunched over, and his voice and face made it obvious what was going on. And he did 
  
    not
  
   need f@ck@ng Izuku to see this right now. The boy had enough on his plate, and Katsuki knew that Izuku’s tendency to worry over him overrides his own sense of self-preservation. 

  “Go away,” Katsuki’s voice was warning, and if it wasn’t for the slight quiver in his tone, he might have sounded intimidating. But due to that tiny mistake in his presentation, it was obvious that Katsuki was more nervous than he was irritated. 

  Katsuki assumes that the boy had just gotten out of some late meeting with the student council, likely about the fundraiser event tomorrow. He wants to look at Izuku, drink in the sight of the beautiful boy for as long as he can before they’re back to practically strangers, but Katsuki knew that the moment the shorter male sees him, he’ll worry himself to death. 

  “A-Are you ok-” Izuku began, voice soft with worry. 

  “Izuku,” Katsuki says, head still hunched over and eyes shrouded by his hair, and he’s still trying his d@mn hardest to keep himself together, “I…” His voice sounded more pained than he intended for it to be, “...can’t talk right now.”

  He still doesn’t look at the boy, but he hears Izuku shifting a bit and then, the greenette takes a seat on the landing mat. But the boy doesn’t say anything. From what it feels like, Izuku was just sitting there. Just having the boy’s presence felt a bit overwhelming to him, so he knew that to Izuku, it probably felt even more intense. 

  And so, after what felt like five minutes of just silence aside from the classic Ise crickets, Katsuki asks in a low tone. There was no one else around. They didn’t need to speak very loudly. 

  “What are you doing here,” He quietly asks. 

  After a moment, the boy replies softly, “Getting our last hour in.”

  At this, Katsuki finally looked up and caught Izuku’s gaze, momentarily shocked at how downtrodden he looked, before chuckling lightly, “We’re just going to sit here for an hour?”

  Izuku tucks his legs up, wrapping his arms around, and setting his chin on his knees, “Yeah.”

  And so they do. Right where it all began. At the track and field. 

  Izuku sits there, and says nothing, just taking in the last couple moments they had left in this god forsaken project. And Katsuki stays hunched over the mat, hands on either side, working hard to keep himself together. And for a long time, it was just like this, until the blonde feels like he’s relatively okay enough to stand up and sit down on the landing map, a foot away from Izuku. And they watch the sky turn to twilight, cutting the lights out in Ise. And in a way, cutting the lights out on the two of them and what they had. 

  This was exactly the ending that Katsuki wanted back when this project started. Back then, he imagined that the last hour would happen like this: with the two of them, awkward and quiet, spending their last 60 minutes as project partners before parting ways for what seemed like forever. It was 
  
    exactly
  
   the f@ck@ng ending that Katsuki and Izuku had agreed on at the beginning of the semester. It was now that Katsuki thinks back to that one famous quote: “Be careful what you wish for.” Funny little mantra, but true nevertheless, as he takes in the situation. He got exactly what he had originally wanted. 

  It was as if the world was mocking him. 
  
    You got what you wanted
  
  , the universe told him, 
  
    Aren’t you happy
  
  ? It mocks him. 

  The ending they got was exactly the one he imagined. His reaction to it, however, was not. 

  When twilight bleeds into darkness, Katsuki is the one to offer Izuku first, as if wanting to savor any last moment with the boy, “Let me drive you home.”

  And in the quiet of the night, Izuku replies with a soft whisper, “Okay.”

  After tonight, they won’t even be project partners.

  As he drives Izuku back home and they both sit in silence, the feeling of becoming strangers again starts creeping in, and Katsuki hates it. When contrasting it to memories of Izuku laughing so hard in the passenger seat at some life story they made up for strangers walking across the road that his stomach hurt, or memories of them doing car karaoke to 80s dance hits together down a boulevard, this was a bittersweet finale. 

  Izuku tells him thank you when he leaves. 

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kacchan,” The boy tells him. 

  And immediately, Katsuki’s ear perked up and he faces Izuku quickly, “Tomorrow?” As if they were back to their old selves, making plans out of the blue, always promising each other to see one another soon. For a second, he was thrown back in time, and he forgot that 
  
    no
  
  , they can’t just hang out anymore. 

  Izuku nods, “In class. And...the fundraiser.”

  Right. 
 
  Katsuki turns on the radio when Izuku leaves his car. Immediately, a song he was only slightly familiar with comes on, and Katsuki decides to listen to it on his way home in order to freshen up. The heavy weight is still in him, and being around Izuku for so long only made it worse, but if he can just make it home, take a shower, grab something to eat, then go to sleep, that would be all that he asks for tonight. 

  An English rock band, 10cc, sung this song and it blew up pretty well. 
  
    I’m Not In Love
  
  , it’s called. Katsuki’s car drove at moderate speed on his way back home, so that he can listen to the lyrics, having forgotten how the song went. 

  
    I’m not in love
  

  
    So don't forget it
  

  
    It's just a silly phase I'm going through
  

  Katsuki chuckles. 

  “F@ck@ng hell,” Katsuki laughs to himself, even though nothing was funny, and just keeps driving as the song proceeds. He thinks about what he wanted to eat tonight for dinner. His parents would probably have leftovers sitting on the counter. He could eat whatever that was, and if he was still hungry afterwards, he can cook his own food. 

  
    And just because, I call you up
  

  
    Don't get me wrong
  

  
    Don't think you've got it made
  

  His brain circles back to the evenings spent at either his or Izuku’s place, rummaging around in the kitchen for ingredients to put something together to eat. Them throwing flour at each other and having Mitsuki throw a pissy fit, forcing the two boys to clean up every inch of the kitchen spotless. He chuckles again to himself. D@mn, he hates this song. He hates these lyrics. 

  
    I'd like to see you
  

  
    But then again
  

  
    It doesn't mean you mean that much to me
  

  Katsuki hears a string of 
  
    ding!
  
   Indicating that he’s receiving a couple of messages on his phone, and he reaches back and pulls his gym bag to the passenger seat where Izuku was sitting. Keeping his eyes on the road, Katsuki unzips the bag and reaches his hand in, reaching around for his phone. The blonde feels around, and stops when he makes out the shape of something unfamiliar that he shouldn’t have in his bag. 

  Frowning to himself, Katsuki knows the shape of what it is, but he didn’t have one the last time he checked. Pulling it out to confirm, Katsuki looked over at the object in his hand. 

  At some point in the evening, Izuku had slipped him a cherry gatorade in his practice bag. 

  
    F@ck
  
  , Katsuki began to laugh outloud to himself like a maniac, but there was evident pain in his voice. Although it was a gesture of care, to Katsuki, it almost felt like a final parting gift and he did 
  
    not 
  
  f@ck@ng handle that well. Katsuki laughed until his stomach felt like twisting in on itself, and after he finishes laughing, that was when the first drop of water left his lashline. This is what it felt like. A parting gift.

  The blonde blinks it away, and airily laughs some more, “My f@ck@ng god. It just can’t stop coming, huh.”

  The cherry gatorade is left rolling around on the floor of the passenger seat. Katsuki doesn’t want to look at it. Funny how something that used to bring the blonde a fair amount of joy was causing him physical pain at just the sight of it. He laughs at how f@ck@ng stupid he was, and then, he laughs at all the words everyone told him today, and yesterday, and last year, and five years ago, and if he was being honest, all his d@mn life. 

  
    Ooh, you'll wait a long time for me
  

  
    Ooh, you'll wait a long time
  

  
    I'm not in love, so don't forget it
  

  Katsuki leaves his car in the driveway, and locks it with a press of a button, before he drags his body inside. It felt like all the mental weights that he’s been dragging was making it hard for him to walk. From the tip of his toes to the highest hair on his head, Katsuki felt drained and dejected. Oh, how dejected he felt. It was carving out his f@ck@ng soul. His hands barely had the energy to open the door, and it felt as if he had to put in more effort than normal to just keep his head up. 

  When he entered the house, it was completely dark except for in the far back where the kitchen was, where two of the edison bulb lights were on above the kitchen island. Other than that, the living room, stairs, and everything else seemed dark. So dark. 

  And he would have thought everyone was asleep if not for the sound of rummaging in the kitchen. 

  He just stands there, near the front door as it slowly closes by itself, barely having the energy to walk. 

  He’s been practicing like his body had no limit, straining his d@mn heart and mind, hung up over a friend he lost that he can barely even call a friend, confused to hell and back about who he was, what he was capable of, and what he even 
  
    wanted
  
   to be capable of. Every sentence that was said to him regarding his emotions felt like another shackle tied to his feet, preventing him from moving inside of his own home. Every emotion he’s been afraid of also added another shackle, until he was carrying the weight of two cars behind him. 

  Katsuki tilts his head up, swallowing, and his jaw quivered for a second. His hands are loose by his side, and his shoulders were dropped. 

  Behind him, the door finally shut closed by itself, and at the sound, the rummaging in the kitchen paused. 

  Mitsuki peeks her head over really quickly and called out to her son. 

  “Brat, you’re finally back?” Mitsuki asks across the house. She was in view. Her hands was holding a seran-wrapped bowl, and she set it on the kitchen counter.

  The blonde in question didn’t reply. Silence continued to infiltrate the house.

  Her back was still turned to him as the blonde woman opens the island drawer and fishes out a pair of utensils, “I texted you asking where you were, did you not see it? Anyways, I made some pot roast tonight for dinner, and thought you’d want some, so I saved you a plate. Although, you might need to heat it up a little b-”

  “Mom?” Katsuki croaked out. His voice cracked in the middle of the word, and there was a very audible pain evident in just the way he said it alone. 

  His body was still slightly sticky with sweat and the humidity from the outside. The house was dark enough to conceal his face and body. His brain was muddled with every single thought that could possibly go through his head. And he feels like he barely has the energy to move. The Bakugo Home was shrouded in darkness save for the kitchen light, and he can’t take it anymore. 

  At the sound of her son’s voice sounding uncharacteristically coarse, Mitsuki stopped what she was doing and turned towards the dark living room, eyes focused more towards the front door where Katsuki was standing, covered by darkness. She took a pause. Something felt off. Standing in the doorway, she could barely see anything but the sillhouette. 

  “Katsuki?” Mitsuki called out in response, not yet too concerned, but definitely a little curious. 

  The brat was just standing there, near the front door, after having called out her name in such an odd manner. And it was quiet for a while. And then. 

  “Mom?” Katsuki breaks his voice again as he called out towards his mother, jaw shaking a bit as he head tilts up more up as if to conserve his pride, yet when he spoke, defeat was clear in his broken words, “Am I-” He swallows, “Am I able to love?” 

  He asks, and at the end, his voice tapers out into a tiny sound, and his head drops down as his eyes squeeze shut, and his stomach and chest began to convulse slightly as he tries so hard to not f@ck@ng cry again. It was in the way that by the end of his sentence, his voice broke into tiny pieces and the pitch cuts off that did it for him. His eyes squeeze shut as if it’ll force away the wetness, and his drooped shoulders shake a little. 

  From the kitchen, Mitsuki drops the utensils in her hand, and the metal hits the floor with a clang, before the woman was making her way quickly out of the kitchen, and across the dark living room. Footsteps echoed as she quickly walked.

  “Katsuki?” This time, there was a clear panic in the woman’s voice as she makes her way to her son. The athlete looks at her, and sees worry--as clear as day--in those familiar red eyes, and Bakugo Mitsuki sounds concerned, “Katsuki? What’s wrong? What’s wrong, baby.” Her eyes dart back and forth, taking in his appearance, checking his body to see if he was okay. 

  The 6’4 athlete who has built the reputation to be as cold as Antarctic ice loses all composure he had left at that. To hear his mother, after so many years, finally call him baby. Finally ask him what’s wrong. Finally show him the tenderness of a mother. To finally experience all this in a time where he feels like he needs it most, Katsuki lost hold of the floodgate doors. 

  It wasn’t as if Mitsuki did not care. She did, but in her own way. She was the type of mother that tended to play the tough-love card. She was the independent woman who raised her kid to be the same way. She was one of those mothers that have a more lax, hands-off approach to parenting, and could joke around with her kid easily like friends. 

  But there are many times in a child’s life where they need their parents to be tender. To treat them more like a child, rather than a friend. To be the pillar that the child leans on. Katsuki didn’t know until just now, when he was seeing it for the first time, that he never got that. 

  If Inko Midoriya was the type of mother to give too 
  
    much
  
   tenderness, then Mitsuki Bakugo was the opposite. But life was a balance. You can’t just treat your child like they’ll forever be naive, but you also cannot treat your child like they’re born as adults. You can’t keep in all of your positive emotions, but you also cannot keep in all of your negative emotions. You can’t spend all of your days dreaming of the sky, when there is so much beauty on the ground to appreciate as well. You can’t blame all your problems on nature, when it’s obvious that nurture plays a role too. There is a middle ground that is oftentimes too difficult to navigate. Too much history has shaped why he thinks and feels the way he does today about things, too much to go through piece by piece. But this, by confronting the very place, the very person where it all began and stemmed from, was a start to some form of mental resolution. 

  “Katsuki, talk to me,” Mitsuki begged him, her hands going up to cup the boy’s face, “Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Katsuki was taller than his mother by a fair amount, larger than her. He’s outgrown his shoes plenty of times, and everyone in Ise including his own family knows that he’s a grown boy. He can take care of himself. He can do everything himself. But it was just now, that it became obvious that at the end of the day, Bakugo Katsuki, no matter how big he grows, like everyone else, can still be a child in need of care and tenderness. Mitsuki had her head tilted up to her son, hands cupping his face, and eyes searching frantically for answers. The woman has never seen her own son like this before, and it was making her panic. 

  “Why can’t I love, Mom,” Katsuki asks, voice cracking left and right, as he wipes away tears, not wanting to look at her, “Why can’t I love.” He repeats. 

  Mitsuki’s hand freezes, and she stares up at her boy in shock. 

  “...love?” She asks in barely a whisper. 

  The athlete nods, shaking as he asks, “You told me once,” He swallows heavily, “That I can’t love or sweep someone off their feet, because I’m like this, because I hurt people,” Katsuki looks down at his feet ashamed, “All this time, and I’ve never been able to prove you wrong.”

  Suddenly, Mitsuki breathes in, face contorting into a pained expression, as her hands hover just slightly above Katsuki’s face as if she was afraid to touch him, and her fingertips begin to quiver just slightly. Her lips open partly, as her brows raise in concern and recognition. It's then that Katsuki figures that his mother recognizes that line. She recognizes it all right. 

  Katsuki’s voice gets quieter and a tad bit higher in pitch as he continues to ask through painful silent cries, “I ruin everything."

  Mitsuki's face cortorted more into pain, and her hands shake more as she realizes what she's done. 

  "I can’t love anyone, because I’ll ruin that too. Because I’m not made for that, right?” Katsuki bites the inside of his cheek, before begging for an answer through bloodshot eyes filled with plea.

  Mitsuki could barely let out a whispered, "No." Oh god. Oh god.

  “Everyone tells me that, Mom. Did…” Katsuki swallows and he tastes salt, tone vibrating through his tears, “Did you know that? Everyone tells me that. Except for…Except for...”

  He looks to the side, and an intense pain shoots through his chest. He doesn’t finish his sentence. 

  Katsuki’s drops his shoulders further, and his gym bag slides off of his body and hits the ground with a thud, the contents without shaken around, and Katsuki faces up, with only his eyes looking down at his mother. A few streaks of tears staining his cheek and running along that sharp jaw. 
  
    You can’t love anyone if you’re like this. 
  

  He asks her desperately, with a strain in his words, “Why’d you say that, mom,” He closed his eyes again, trying to control the way his jaw shook, before asking in a whisper, “Why’d you have to say that.”

  Mitsuki shook her head slowly, tears welling up in her eyes now as she realizes what she has done, and her shaking hands reach back up to place itself on Katsuki’s face, and Mitsuki rests her head against her son’s chest. She’s never thought much about it. Not even once, has she thought about it again. They were just passing words, said to warn a child that was born with too many anger issues and management problems. She never meant any harm by it.

  But even as Katsuki grew up, and everyone was right in that the brat 
  
    did
  
   tone down a fair bit, by then, Katsuki had closed himself off so much that she was sure it was just his personality. Not for a second did the woman think that it wasn’t just Katsuki’s personality. Not for a second did the woman think that 
  
    maybe
  
  , it was all that this boy heard growing up. Careless words tossed around about his unlikeability, his actions towards others as a 
  
    child
  
  , his terrible personality--often played out as jokes, but to a kid, were very impressionable words. Mitsuki thinks back now, and wonders how she could have been so stupid. Of course her boy was confused now. Hurt. In agony. What kind of mother was she, Mitsuki thought to herself. What has she done. This all hits her like a truck. The late consequences of her own actions, that she had been pushing the blame off to Katsuki's natural personality this entire time.

  Looking at her son now, seeing Katsuki cry for things he didn’t know he was feeling, caring so much about whether or not he could love, Mitsuki thinks: how could he not be able to? Of course this boy-- this brash, arrogant brat who has grown to show such sentimental sides that would surprise the woman herself --Of course this boy could love. Would a boy who wasn’t able to love be able to cry over love like this? Would a boy who wasn’t able to love want so badly to understand love like this? How could she be so stupid. Did it really take Katsuki breaking down like this for her to have realized that she's been ignoring his sentimental side all of this time? 

  “Katsuki,” The woman who was usually firm, and sure of every decision she made, says with guilt and pain, “My baby…” She says to her grown adult son who’s never received this treatment from his own parents before even though he should have, “I’m so sorry.” She repeats over and over again, “I’m so, so sorry.” 

  It feels like a crescendo of emotions, because Katsuki shakes his head in disbelief and tries to shake Mitsuki off. He doesn’t remember the last time he hugged her. Their relationship wasn’t like that. They were the chill parent-child duo. She does her mom duties, like provide from him, have fun bickering conversations with him, and what not. But they were never the sentimental kind. So this. This felt odd. 

  Katsuki’s shoulders rack at this point, and his head was hung low and he just stands there limp, “What if I want to?” He whispers while he cries quietly, “Why can everyone else love, but me? I want to have someone to hold too. I want to sweep someone off their feet, too. I want to wake up next to someone every morning too. What is so wrong with me that I can’t do that without ruining it all. Why can’t I lo-”

  “You can,” Mitsuki looks up at him, face ruined with tears as well as she tries to fix the mistake she amongst others have made, “You can love, Katsuki.”

  “I can’t,” Katsuki shakes his head, chest shaking. He thinks back to all the hurt he’s given Izuku. People in love don’t hurt the ones they love, do they?

  Mitsuki pulls him down in a tight embrace, as if giving back all of the affection she’s held out on over the years, knowing that it couldn’t fix nearly two decades worth of habituation. But still, she held her son in her arms as tightly as she could. She knew she was far too late. That she should have done this a long time ago. That all the times she and Masaru saw the boy upset, she should have hugged and talked to him instead of letting him deal with it on his own, even though he could. And now, as she tells her own son that he can love, Mitsuki knows it's her fault that the boy doesn't believe her. 

  “You can,” Mitsuki assures him through her own crying, “And I’m sorry for ever making you think that you can’t. I’ve ignored your compassion, and care, and kindness all this time, but it’s always been there,” She nods, and speaks hurriedly in case it was too late, “It’s always been there.”

  “No, no,” Katsuki shakes his head but makes no effort to move from the embrace, he hiccups once, “You’re just saying that. You’re just saying that, Mom.”

  “I’m not,” Mitsuki tries to convince him with a crying plea, knowing that she had a big role in why her son was standing in their living room at night crying to her about wanting to be in love, “You’re so capable. And I was wrong. You-”

  “No one thinks I can. No one,” Katsuki’s voice raises as tears soak his mother’s blouse, “What-What the f@ck makes you think I believe you? I don't believe you. I don't f@ck@ng believe you.” 

  It was too late to keep up the tough act, not when he was falling into his mother’s arms like this, although he was 19 and ready to be shipped off to college to play professional sports. 

  "I'm telling the truth Katsuki," Mitsuki cries, and Katsuki tries to push her off, but she holds on tightly, "I promise you, I'm telling the truth!"

  The blonde raised his voice, "You never believed in me. No one had. I don't even believe that I can. And now, I go home, looking like...like this, and suddenly, you go against all that you've ever told me?" Katsuki asks, still crying, "And you expect me to accept that b@llsh@t?"


  Mitsuki looks up, tear soaked face, begging Katsuki as she shakes her head, "And that's my fault! It's my fault that it took you getting to this point for me to realize. I'm not just saying this. I'm not, baby, I'm not."

  Katsuki turns his head, and tries to break out of the embrace, "Get off of me!" He yells, "Let me go." 

  "No," Mitsuki refuses, and buries her face in his chest, pulling her son in tightly, knowing she helped cause this, "I've let you go for long enough, Katsuki. I've ignored your needs for long enough. I can't let go now. Please."

  Katsuki gives up and his chest shakes from crying. He was fighting against the hold, but he knew that he internally needed it. The embrace of a parent. 
"Please, let me make up for everything," Mitsuki holds him close. And they both cry right there in the living room. Katsuki finally reaches his arms up to hug her back, and her big kid who looked too grown to be doing this melts into his mother's embrace. And Mitsuki holds them there for a long time, while Katsuki lets out all of the frustration, sadness, and whatever else was in his system. And she lets out her own guilt. Katsuki wasn't even sure what time it was, but it was too late in the night to be doing this sh@t. His climb down from the heightened emotions was slow, but steady. Mitsuki shhs him, while rubbing circles into his back, and until Katsuki's breathing calms a little bit, she continues to do so. "I still don't..." Katsuki whispers, "...believe you."
  “Don’t believe in me then,” Mitsuki rocked him gently, “You believed me once, and look at this mess I created." She admits. 

  "If you’re going to believe in anyone,” She sniffled, unable to see her son like this, much less because of her careless words, “then believe in yourself.”

  The blonde didn’t understand. He stood there, eyes squeezed shut in her shoulder, and didn’t say anything. It wasn’t just her fault. It wasn’t just his mother, or his father, or his friends’, or this town’s fault that he was like this. Katsuki knew it was also his own fault. He’s convinced himself so deeply, that he f@ck@d himself over too. 

  Mitsuki continues, “You’ve always been a man of action, Katsuki,” She swallows, trying to keep her voice even, “So believe in your actions. Don’t believe in me. Believe in your ability to care for your teammates and always make sure they’re doing the best they can. Is that not love?”

  She pauses to collect herself and swallow her saliva, “Believe in your passion for vaulting and how much you’ve dedicated to it. Is that not love?” 

  And Mitsuki doesn’t know whether or not she should go through with saying this, but by now, she practically 
  
    knew
  
  , “Your father was telling me the other day...how the night you left the Spring Dance, you went to Izuku’s house, and danced with him instead.” She could feel the boy stiffen in her arms at the mention, and that’s when she knew she hit a sensitive spot, “That was very kind of you, Katsuki. Mr. Hidashi told me the other week that when he does his patrols, he sees you and Izuku a lot just out and about, even when knowing how Inko gets, you still do it. That’s very sweet of you too, Katsuki.”

  She swallows again, “Auntie called me the other day. Said you left a note on the counter when her maintenance people came to clean up, saying you and a friend were there together,” That was a fresh one, “If you don’t believe in anything else, then trust in those actions, Katsuki. Is that…” She paused, “Is that not love?”

  
    Is that not love
  
  ? The blonde male listens to every word his mother says, and hangs onto them as if they were his life. It wasn't as if a couple of words in one night can change nearly two decades of thinking. But it was a start. It was definitely a start. And Katsuki barely knows what to do with this new information, with this new opinion. 

  Katsuki’s voice lowered back down to barely anything at all, “I don’t know. I don’t even know.”

  Mitsuki rubs his back as he continues to slump over her, “It’s alright not to, right now.”

  Katsuki saddeningly admits, “ I can’t just go from not believing that I can even love for 18 years, to deciding that I am in love with someone right now.”

  “It’s alright,” She ushers him softly, “No one is expecting you to.” She rubs his back some more to soften his hiccups. 

  “I don’t...know how to know,” The blonde boy can barely tell if he was making any sense. 

  His mother pulls away slightly then and wipes some tears off of Katsuki’s cheek, before giving a piece of her own advice that she learned a while ago, “Your grandaddy,” She chuckles, “He was the biggest romantic. You know what he used to say to me when I was a teenager?”

  Katsuki didn’t say anything, but Mitsuki knew the soft brat was listening quietly. 

  She then quietly repeats to him his grandfather’s words, “You know you’re in love, when the love songs you listen to feel less like stories and more like reality.” 

  At this, Katsuki’s heart began to thump faster, as he tries to decipher whether or not that was true. He was almost afraid of the conclusion he’ll come to. And just as his mind begins to sift through the memories, Mitsuki stopped him.

  “But don’t worry about it tonight, okay?” Mitsuki Bakugo told him, sniffling once as she pulls away to look up at him, “Tonight, you need to eat the leftovers and get some sleep.”

  Katsuki’s tear stained face was still solemn, but it felt as if one of the weights was being untied from his feet, after hearing his mother, after all this time, tell him that he 
  
    can
  
   love in the way that barely anybody else thought he could. 

  Nodding and sniffling to get the wetness out of his nose, Katsuki replied in a croaked whisper, “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea,” He bent down to grab his bag that had been left on the floor, “Food sounds good.”

  Mitsuki still felt overwhelmed with concern, and walked alongside Katsuki towards the kitchen, “Are you okay?”

  “I’m on top of the world, what do you mean, hag,” Katsuki jokes in his hoarse tone.

  “Brat,” Mitsuki laughs lightly as she wipes at her eyes before cleaning his throat, “I’m serious.”

  Katsuki looks down at the ground then sets his bag on the kitchen island barstool, “You’re serious, huh.” He says quietly.

  “I’m serious. I’m long overdue with worrying about you,” Mitsuki admits, barey looking at him, as they stand around the kitchen island of this odd home, listening to crickets and the occasional owl.

  “It’s all good, mom,” Katsuki replies quietly, “I can take care of myself.”

  It wasn’t said in an outrageous, hostile way, but rather, an assuring way, as if to tell her that he’s grown up this far handling himself, he’ll be fine. 

  “Doesn’t mean you have to,” Mitsuki croaks, “You never should have had to.”

  To this, Katsuki doesn’t say anything. He looks back into the living room. His father was usually a heavy sleeper, but he didn't expect Masaru to be this heavy of a sleeper. 

  So Mitsuki looks up at him, “Let’s hug each other more from now on,” She wasn’t a woman who was tenderly affectionate or even softly worded, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t be here and there if it means her son can slowly unlearn all that she unintentionally taught him, “Let’s tell each other about our thoughts more from now on. Let me do all the things for you that I should have done a long time ago.”

  Hearing this almost made Katsuki want to f@ck@ng cry again, but no more of that tonight. 

  Without directly replying, Katsuki references back to her earlier question and answers seriously this time, “I’ll be fine,” Emphasis on the word 
  
    be
  
  , “I just need a little time to figure everything out.”

  Mitsuki nods as she turns away from the kitchen island, grabbing a glass of water, “Of course,” She fills it up, before sliding it over to where Katsuki is now sitting, “Take all the time you need. And t…” She paused, feeling a little awkward because she’s never been like this with her own son before, “...talk to me. Anytime you want.”

  From the other side of the island, Katsuki takes a hold of the water, and nods to himself. 

  “I’ll heat up some dinner,” His mom then tells him, and Katsuki is just left with the words of earlier. 

  
    You can. You can love, Katsuki
  
  . 



  The fundraising event this year was projected to be the biggest one they had yet, judging from the trends in the past decade or so. Slowly, the Ise High Annual Fundraiser was becoming embedded as one of the city’s own traditions, so they get a higher turnout every single year. And since this year marked the 10 year anniversary since this fundraiser tradition began, Ise High planned on making it even more extravagant. 

  Festivities usually started around 4 PM, and all day long, students left and right are excused from their classes to set up before 4 PM. It seemed like everyone in the school was involved. The fundraiser was held outside in the open plot of land behind the school, and people ran back and forth all day to get things set up. 

  All the clubs had a booth. The chess club had a station where they’d teach kids from the Ise community how to play. The volleyball squad had a net set up, and people to take shifts to monitor the mini-games they plan to hold. The community service oriented clubs were all scrambling to get drink stations, games, and entertainment set up. The Ise High radio station team led by students were in charge of music. The soccer team was on call to help out if any club or really if anyone needed their help to set up, as well as carrying equipment from people’s cars to the booths. Whether it was inflatable devices, sound systems, or help with carrying food from trucks to the coolers. Even the teachers were out there on the grounds helping out. 

  Some things, students weren’t allowed to help with. Setting up any heavy duty machinery for example. For the fundraiser event, Ise High usually rented out some typical fair equipment. However, since their budget was not as big as the county fair, it wasn’t as if they could get a ton of rides. Instead, since this was an event mainly geared towards kids and preteens, the school would rent out collapsible rides that just went around a track and had something cute like Thomas The Train as its theme or something. 

  And the mirror maze. That was a fun one. The mirror maze took about a day to be set up by the company that rents them out, since it had to be put up slowly and in multiple parts, so they started that yesterday. In the end, it looked like a house. It was called The Mirror Maze. Very original. And right through the door was a maze full of mirrors, backlit by LEDs. Katsuki’s done it a couple of times, but the route changes every year. 

  This was the first year that the pole vault team would be manning the Mirror Maze. That must mean that one of the members must have called dibs on the sign up sheet earlier. Thank f@ck@ng god. The mirror maze was the easiest job to do, really. Only two people need to be on shift at any given time. One person at the front, to collect tickets, and one person on the second floor of the maze standing next to the slide that served as the exit down to the outside ground again, in order to make sure that everyone who comes in can actually find their way out. 

  Last year, the pole vault team was stuck with the “Dress Up” job, and basically, what that meant was that all the team members had to be stuck in sweaty and hot costumes of animals or popular pop culture characters and parade around the fair all d@mn night taking pictures with little kids. Katsuki almost got into a fight with Denki over getting the Batman costume, which he later regretted because it was stuffy as 
  
    f@ck
  
   in there. 

  Tonight, Katsuki was stuck with four shifts, since as captain, he had to sign up for any shift that doesn’t have a volunteer from their team. All shifts were 30 minutes long, and since the fundraiser lasted from 4 to 9PM, that means there were 11 30-minute time intervals. Two people at the mirror maze each time. So there were 22 shifts total to be filled. 11 shifts at the front of the mirror maze. And 11 more at the slide within the maze. Since there were 9 people on the pole vault team, everyone was required to sign up for 2 shifts. 

  Which left the four that Katsuki had to do himself. This was b@llsh@t. 

  All day, he hadn’t had the time to be thinking, due to having to run around doing errands, which was a good thing. He didn’t need to be thinking, anyways. 

  From left and right, he was being called to do this or do that. 

  “It’s because you’re so big and strong that everyone’s working you like a horse,” Kirishima told him as the red head was carrying a box of utensils to the grounds. 

  Ever since the blow up in the cafeteria just yesterday, people have been pretty quiet to him about it. It was if they were choosing to let it go to the past, and never bring up the subject again. That was fine by him. 

  Katsuki, jogging past to get back into the school building, rolled his eyes, “I f@ck@ng hate all of you.”

  There’s a bit of air conditioning inside the school as he slides past the crowds of people. 

  Mr. Toshinori called out to him as Katsuki was slipping through in order to grab some boxes of string lights from the storage room, “Young Bakugo! You’re skipping my class today?”

  The blonde whipped his head to nod at the old teacher, “I’m excused to help out with the fundraiser set u-”

  “I know, I was just jesting, my boy,” The teacher held his stomach with a laugh, “How’s the essay going?”

  Katsuki rolled his eyes at the useless interruption, and replied quickly, “I’ll get it to you by Friday.” That's in two days.

  “Well, that’s when it’s due,” Mr. Toshinori frowned.

  “Exactly,” Katsuki clicked his tongue and pointed to him, before jogging back off. 

  “Midoriya has already turned his in, by the way,” Mr. Toshinori called out behind him. 

  And this causes Katsuki to stop in his tracks, staring straight forward for a second, before he turns and swallows. Mr. Toshinori stares him in his eye, and he wants to punt the old man, but instead, Katsuki just asks, “How is it.”

  The teacher put both hands in his pockets, and hummed, trying to figure out words to describe it, “It’s quite beautiful. And well...more than I expected.”

  “I’m sure it was,” Katsuki finds himself saying, fearful of what was in Izuku’s papers and what Mr. Toshinori knows, “I’m sure it was.” He repeats before walking away. 

  And as he does, Mr. Toshinori adds one more comment, “I’m sure yours will not be any less surprising.”

  F@ck off, old man, he wanted to say. F@ck off. 

  He sees Izuku many, 
  
    many
  
   times today. The greenette was practically everywhere, considering he was part of the student council and was in charge of helping out and allocating tasks. Izuku was going around, assigning tasks and making sure everything was coming together smoothly. The boy also seemed to be caught up talking to any sponsors or people from the outside that they had coming in to deliver food, or equipment, or what not. Katsuki could see just how tired the boy was, and felt such an intense urge to go talk to the boy. But this fundraiser was more important than the b@llsh@t they were going through. Katsuki worked himself like crazy, so that every time he saw Izuku, his mind doesn’t linger on him for too long. 

  By the time 3:00 PM rolls around, the fundraiser event was practically all set up an hour before the gates open. Coming into the Ise Parking lot, in really stupid looking block letters, was a string with balloons that read “Ise High Annual Fundraiser.” People would have to walk from the sidewalk to the back of the school, where they’d be ticketed and there would be a box for donations. The boxes for donations were stationed all throughout the fair. The more tickets people buy for activities, the more money that gets raked in for the charity. But there were plenty of free booths too, if there were people here who didn’t want to spend any extra money outside of the entry fee. 

  Because of the fundraiser, there was no practice today, since all team members were required to be there at the event at one point or another. Some people who had a later shift went home to shower and eat, before coming back to the school to work. Others just stayed the entire time, exploring the other booths or bothering their friends that were working for different clubs, before coming back to the mirror maze for their shifts. 

  Katsuki’s first shift started at 6:30 P.M. and he’ll be there for consecutive hours until 8:30 PM before he switches out for the last half hour before the fundraiser event closes down. That meant he had about 2 hours and 30 minutes to do whatever he wants until he’s forced to stand there at the front of the maze, pretend he was jolly to be there, and collect tickets for two hours. He didn’t necessarily want to go walk around because 1. He scares children simply by existing and walking around with his resting scowl. And a lot of the children aren’t old enough to be in awe of the Great Bakugo Katsuki yet, so his reputation didn’t even matter. 2. He’s done this event for the past four years. He knows what’s here. 

  And so instead, Katsuki sits outside in his car with the air conditioner on and music playing, with a legal pad open and a black gel pen twirling in his fingers as he thinks about how to start this f@ck@ng analysis paper. What the f@ck to write about. How to summarize the best couple months of his life into an analysis that would be 7 pages at most. How to put his pen to paper without having to think of Izuku’s face, Izuku’s laugh, and Izuku’s love every part of the way. How the hell was he going to write this. 
 
  After almost two hours, he’s gotten about two paragraphs down that he knew he was likely to erase later. And this was getting ridiculous. 

  Outside of his car, he often got distracted from the paper watching all the people filter into the parking lot with their kids, and heading over to where the fundraiser was hosted. The weather today was perfect. Lately, it’s been getting hotter and hotter, but tonight, there was a faint breeze that Katsuki could feel through his partially cracked window. The sky was a deep purple-orange, and once Katsuki turns his car off, he could hear the faint sound of Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean blaring through the speakers from far away. 

  T
  aking a look at the time, Katsuki let out a sigh before climbing out of the car and doing a light jog towards the fundraiser. The monkey maze was in the far right corner of the fundraising event, and so the blonde wove in and out of the event grounds until he can see Sero at the front, who he was supposed to be switching out with. The pole vaulter was standing around, chin on his palm at the podium sitting on his swinging chair, until he sees Bakugo jogging up. 

  “Cap!” Sero gave him a cheeky grin with a wave, “Ready to stand here for two hours?”

  Katsuki rolled his eyes and booted him out, “Oh f@ck off.”

  “It’s not too bad,” Sero stood up to stretch and stepped down from the raised platform, “Better than 
  
    their 
  
  job.”

  The raven pointed to the booth set up straight across from the mirror maze, and Katsuki turned so that they were both now staring at the group this year that was assigned to wear all of the costumes, and snorted. That had been them last year, but it seems like the tennis team was stuck with that duty this time around. 

  Katsuki turned back to Sero, “You ain’t wrong.”

  “Anyways, you know what to do, right?” His friend asked.

  The blonde nodded and hummed in response.

  “In that case, I’m going to go look around and then call it a night, yeah?” Sero grinned, “Take it easy, alright?”

  Katsuki just settled against the podium where he’ll be for a while and waved the vaulter off before signing into his shift. Katsuki knew he wasn’t the most approachable looking person, especially to kids, and so he purposely tries to not scowl. 

  It really wasn’t that hard of a job, and in the time that he wasn’t actively ticketing someone, the blonde was just on his phone scrolling through or doing something to waste time. While he was on shift, some people would drop by here and there to bother him for a moment or two before leaving. The fundraiser was getting relatively packed for a school event. There were a ton of kids dragging their parents around, wanting to try all the activities. At two or three points during his shifts, there were long lines for the mirror maze. 

  However, he was only allowed to get 7 people in at any given time, so Katsuki was subjected to replying to the small talk of parents waiting in line with their kids to go in. Many parents seemed to be a little in awe that the Ise High legend Bakugo Katsuki does normal people stuff like helping out with fundraisers. Katsuki was not into small talk, ever, but for the sake of Alzeimer’s research, he tried to respond sarcastically to the adults and occasional teen in line that was a big fan of his. 

  “I hope this is not weird, but,” A kid that looked to be about 11 or 12 came up to him when the mirror maze wasn’t as busy, “Could I-Could I get an autograph?” 

  Katsuki looked down at the boy, who was holding out a random fundraiser t-shirt that the kid probably won from another booth.

  
    “You want an autograph?” 
  
  Katsuki had asked Izuku that one night they went to Hana’s Diner. 
  
    .
  

  Izuku had nodded
  
    , “Yes, please. And then I can sell it in a few years when you’re in the Olympics and get myself some easy money.”
  

  Katsuki remembers almost wanting to laugh then
  
    , “You’d sell my precious autograph, for some couple hundred bucks?”
  

  At the memory, Katsuki finds himself reeling and his chest felt tighten again, and he breaths in and out slowly to get rid of the memory of Izuku that surfaced when the little boy had asked him for an autograph. 

  “S-Sir?” The kid blinked up at the strange reaction coming from Katsuki.

  Clearing his throat, the blonde nodded, “Yeah, sure. What’s your name kid?” 

  “Botan,” The boy’s eyes brightened, “B-Both our names start with B’s, Mr. Bakugo!”

  “So it does,” Katsuki chuckles slightly as he writes down the character with a sharpie nearby, “So you wanna be a pole vaulter, Botan?”

  Botan looks around his shoulders for somebody, before turning his head back up to Katsuki, “Yeah! A lot! But my dad said it’s too dangerous. He doesn't like me doing dangerous things.”

  Katsuki’s eyes flickered to where the kid was staring earlier, to find a man that shared some features who he assumed was Botan’s father, “He ain’t wrong.”

  At this, the kid looked a little disheartened and tilted his head towards the ground, “He isn’t?”

  Katsuki nods, “Yeah, it’s hella dangerous. If you’re not careful, it’ll suck you in ‘cuz you’ll love it so much.”

  Botan’s eyes widened, and his face broke out in a grin then. Katsuki shoos the boy away after a moment or two, and leans back again against the podium. He looks at his watch. It was about 20 minutes until his shift ended, and he can trade out with the next person. These next 20 minutes are likely going to go by slow as hell, he complained under his breath. 

  “Careful, Cap,” A familiar annoying voice interrupted him, “If that kid follows your footsteps and becomes an @ssh@l@ too, it’ll be all your fault.” Kaito Sen chuckled, except he was missing that usual snarky tone. 

  Katsuki turned his head to his teammate for a moment and then stared forward once more, before finding the energy to say something sarcastically back, “I can’t help being so inspiring to kids, F@ck Face.”

  “What a burden, huh,” The brunette tacked on, “Being such a role model,” He chuckled.

  “The weight of responsibility cripples me,” Katsuki rolls his eyes sarcastically, before raising a brow at the other male, “So what. You here to test my patience again?”

  “Of course,” Kaito responded, and leaned his side against the podium while looking out on the festivities with his arms crossed, “And also because I’m taking over your shift next.”

  “That’s in 30 minutes,” Katsuki grumbled. The last person he wants to f@ck@ng talk to is Kaito Sen.

  “I know, Cap. I can read a clock too, you annoying f@ck,” Kaito muttered, and shoved his hands in his pocket. 

  Katsuki ignores the insult and cracks his neck, “You know, huh. So you got something to say to me then, F@ck Face?”

  The brunette shrugs and shakes his head, still observing the crowd, “Nah. I walked around this place for the last hour, and it’s all the same stuff as last year. Figured I’ll just get to the shift a bit early and wait here.”

  Katsuki doesn’t reply to this, and instead, just stands there doing what he was doing before, until he had to ticket the next couple of people in line. He was getting less and less people, as the fundraiser event headed into the last hour or so. The music still played loudly from the speakers on the other side of the event grounds, and some booths looked a little excited to close down soon after a long day. The grass was flat against the ground from so many walking over it throughout the evening, and Katsuki just clasped both hands together as he watched people walk back and forth. 

  Kaito Sen does the same from where he was leaning against the side of the podium, a step down from Katsuki. The brunette just stood there watching, and in a rare moment, the two men stood near one another without a fight breaking out. Katsuki still would have preferred it if the son of a b@tch decided to loiter somewhere else, somewhere preferable away from him, but he didn’t have the energy to complain today. And so, they both stand there for what seems like forever, as Katsuki’s last shift runs its course.

  “You ever get sick of winning, Cap?” Kaito Sen suddenly asks, head leaning against the raised podium, and he craned his neck slightly to get Katsuki’s attention. 

  The blonde’s eyes looked at Kaito’s for a split second, before Katsuki leans on his elbows and thinks about it. He knew there was something playing at the brunette’s approach. Because in what world does Kaito Sen voluntarily stand next to him in silence for over ten minutes. Now to see if F@ck Face was looking for a fight or not. 

  Katsuki blew out some air, before replying, “What kind of f@ck@ng question is th-”

  “I’m f@ck@ng serious,” Kaito furrowed his brows but still wouldn’t look at Katsuki, “Just answer the question.”

  “What makes you think you’re in any place to make demands,” Katsuki’s tone darkened.

  Kaito went silent at this, and it was one of the very few times, if not the first, where it seemed like the brunette wasn’t up to get into an argument over something like this. It made him slightly curious to see what the hell the guy was getting at, and he contemplated talking. After a moment, he figures it’s either that or stand here for another awkward 15 minutes. 

  Before he could decide whether or not to answer, Kaito spoke up again. 

  “From the moment I was introduced to you, I was sick of you, you know that?” He says.

  Katsuki scowls, “I don’t need a d@mn backsto-”

  “I thought, 
  
    d@mn
  
  , this piece of sh@t won every f@ck@ng thing, and it’s always @ssh@l@s like you that get everything they want,” Kaito laughs dryly, “It’s like no matter what anyone does, they’re always second place to you. In school. In vault. In life. And I couldn't wrap my head around how the world lets someone with no character, humility, or care get all this sh@t, and someone nice and civil like me gets your leftovers.”

  Katsuki stares blankly forward. He’s heard Kaito’s claims of him lacking humility, character, and whatnot a million times already. It wasn’t new, and the blonde wasn’t going to give the other any satisfaction of his reaction again.

  “I think,” Kaito kicks at dirt with his hands in his pockets, “I really loved the fact that you suck at emotions, because it was the one thing you didn’t seem to have. And I told myself that no matter how sh@tty I feel in comparison to you, at least I know how to love and care for others. Poor Bakugo Katsuki, I’d say, pitying you. Has everything in the world: best grades, best s@x, best jumps. But no capacity for anything genuine. I’m way better than him, I’d say. Poor Bakugo Katsuki,” He repeats.

  Katsuki’s gaze averted to his hands at this comment.

  “And then Midoriya and his sweet self came into the picture,” Kaito chuckled, “And I thought it’d be fun to take him away from you. I like the look on your stupid face when he’d leave with me, or be near me. Poor Bakugo Katsuki. Such a piece of sh@t that he can’t even stand it when one of his toys is with someone else, huh.”

  Katsuki tries not to clench his fists, as he warns Kaito, “Deku isn’t a f@ck@ng to-”

  “Isn’t a toy, yeah I know,” Kaito then looked up at Katsuki with an amused grin laced with what looks to be a bit of guilt, “It’s ironic, really. How in the end, it’s me using him as a toy for my own revenge, while you’re the one who’s in love with him.”

  At this, Katsuki’s eyes widened. Because the m@th@rf@ck@r didn’t just say that he was a genuine friend to Izuku. Or that he wasn’t using Izuku for any ulterior motive. No, none of that. Kaito Sen went straight to 
  
    you’re the one who’s in love with him
  
  . After years of shoving it in his face that he couldn’t. After calling him incapable a multitude of times. It threw Katsuki off guard, despite wanting to keep his composure in front of his rival. 

  “What are you talking about,” Katsuki almost croaked out, unable to decide whether or not he had misheard. 

  Kaito Sen took a deep breath, still staring at the dirt he was digging up under his shoe, “You heard me, Cap. Trust me, I don’t want to believe it either.”

  Katsuki swallowed, and still looked a little shocked. Everyone seemed to be sure except for himself.

  “Because,” Kaito looked up to the sky, looking as if he was ashamed to admit this to Katsuki’s face, “This means that you really do have f@ck@ng everything. At the end of the day, you’re still an @ssh@l@. A little less these days, but still arrogant. Still rude. Still dislikable, and trust me when I say that I 
  
    do
  
   dislike you. But with this whole thing that’s going on, it means that you really do have it all. Everything. Love? You aren’t even lacking that, huh.”

  Katsuki dropped his shoulders a bit and breathed out before replying, ignoring the last little snippet, “Did someone drug you? What’s with the change of heart.”

  Kaito shrugged, “Not drugged. I just think I didn’t want to believe it. That there truly was nothing you didn’t have. My last straw was in that locker room, the last chance to assure myself that you hadn’t changed. That you’re still the same selfish @ssh@l@ you’ve always been,” And then Kaito takes a breath, “That turned out in my favor, didn’t it.” He said sarcastically. 

  “Anyways, working myself up to this conversation was awkward enough as it is. I’m going to stop before this gets any more embarrassing, but yeah,” Kaito turned and slapped Katsuki on the shoulder twice, “Just wanted to say sorry. For, you know, saying all that sh@t about you. I was only partially wrong about you.”

  “Partially,” Katsuki repeats with a snort, internalizing the unexpected apology in his head that meant a lot more than he would care to admit. 

  The last thing Katsuki thought to get relief from was his rival and least likeable teammate telling him that he was sorry, not that sorry was an end-all-be-all. Sorry was just a word. But it was a start, and an acknowledgment of some wronged behavior. As someone who can barely find it in him to apologize for anything, Katsuki knew the amount of pride it took to set aside in order to apologize to someone. And so, even if he still hated Kaito Sen, he can at least feel some sort of settlement with the apology he had just received. Katsuki didn’t want to feel as if he needed this apology, but now that he had it, he realizes just how much he 
  
    did
  
  . 

  “Only partially,” Kaito joked with a sneer, “You’re still a piece of sh@t.”

  “As expected,” Katsuki murmurs.

  “As expected,” Kaito nods in agreement. 

  And the two men stand there for a bit, letting the conversation settle in. There were less and less people in the fundraiser bounds, since it was getting late and the only people that seemed to still be here were pre-teens who slept later or kids with no curfew. 

  “You’re wrong, F@ck Face,” Katsuki says the nickname without the usual harsh bite to it. 

  “Again, as expected,” Kaito snorts and asks, “Tell me. What am I wrong about.”

  Katsuki puts down the sharpie he’s been messing with and tells his rival, “I ain’t got everything. If I did...” 

  Katsuki’s head was tilted towards the podium where he was doing some sums for people who came in during his shift, but he paused in his writing, and his eyes move to look up past his hair and over diagonally at the lemonade stand, where a certain boy with green hair and big doe eyes was grabbing a drink from the math honor society who ran that booth. 

  “...” Katsuki finishes his sentence just a moment later, looking back down at his paper before admitting, “We’d still be friends, me and him.” The blonde knew that Kaito would know exactly who he was talking about. 

  Kaito looked a bit surprised, unaware of what had happened between Katsuki and Izuku. The last time they were actually seen together was at the bonfire party last Friday, and during school, it didn’t look like they was bad blood or anything. Just an air of silence from both Bakugo and Midoriya, but towards everyone, not just each other. 

  At Kaito’s silence, Katsuki laughed, “What is it. You surprised I drove him away?” He clears his throat then.

  The brunette looked towards Izuku, whose back was turned towards them, “More surprised you’re just accepting it. Doesn’t sound like the captain I know.”

  “Yeah, and you just know me so well, don’t you,” Katsuki said bitterly, “What is this. The first real conversation we’ve had?” Don't act so chummy all of a sudden, Katsuki wanted to say, but he didn't. He knew that this conversation as a whole probably took a pride set aside by Kaito to have, and that was something he struggled with himself. 

  “Something like that,” Kaito replies, reaching over to grab a water bottle and taking a swig, “And it kind of sucks.”

  “It does,” Katsuki agreed, “We shouldn’t do this very often.”

  “We shouldn’t,” Kaito affirmed, and continued to kick dirt up, “But don’t kid me, Bakugo. I don’t know what happened, but I know you enough to understand that you aren’t the type to just give up.”

  Katsuki blew out some air and checked his watch, “There’s a first for everything. Anyways, times up. Kaito, sign in for duty. I’ll help you close up at 9.”

  “You’re gonna stay in the area?” Kaito looked around and then down at his watch, before stepping up onto the platformed podium to take Katsuki’s spot.

  The blonde signs off for his teammate and shrugs, “I’m gonna grab a drink and come back. Might as well take a tour of the maze.” 

  Kaito fishes around a couple dollar bills from his pocket, “Can you be a good captain and get me the flank steak salad?”

  Katsuki rolled his eyes. It wasn’t as if he didn’t often get his teammates food or drinks, considering that yes, as captain, he was supposed to look out for them and make sure they’re eating and hydrating well. But Kaito is a different case. The brunette has never wanted sh@t from Katsuki, so now as the blonde reaches out to take the bills, he asks. 

  “You gonna be a good teammate?” Katsuki asks, grabbing the money. 

  “Since when have I not been,” Kaito argued.

  The blonde tched as he turned, “B@st@rd. Who eats a flank steak salad at a d@mn fundraiser.”

  “A gentleman,” Kaito replied earnestly, “I don’t want to eat with my hands in front of these kids.”

  “Yes, because the kids are going to grow up corrupted because they saw a random guy eat a greasy burger while working a fair,” Katsuki tsked, but goes to get it anyways. 

  Katsuki goes off to grab the food and then just a bottle of water for himself, before weaving through the crowd to get back to the Monkey Maze. As the end of the fundraiser was getting closer, the fewer and fewer people there were. A lot of the booths were already starting to clean up and getting ready to leave, setting aside 
  
    just
  
   enough material for about 3 or 4 more people if anyone comes by. A lot of people now who were working the booths also ditched their stations to go walk around for a bit before returning. 

  The grass was thoroughly trampled on, and there was plenty of trash that dropped on the ground that the volunteer club was going to have a b@tch of a time cleaning up later. Katsuki downs his water in one go on the spot, and tosses it in recycle. 

  He then drops the flank steak salad off to Kaito Sen, tempted to bum a piece off since it smelled so f@ck@ng good and he was hungrier than he had realized. 

  “Thanks,” Kaito stands up from his podium seat and takes the meal out of Katsuki’s hands as well as the change, “Have fun with the maze. Denki tried it earlier before your shift started. Took him thirty minutes.”

  Katsuki snorts as he steps up the six or seven glass stairs that led into the mirror maze, “It’ll take me five.”

  Kaito rolled his eyes and forks a piece of flank steak into his mouth, “Arrogant piece of sh@t. See you tomorrow Cap. Good luck figuring your mess out.”

  Katsuki waved an arm as he stepped through, “Good luck finding a housewife. Or househusband.”

  The mirror maze was immediately disorienting. The floor and ceilings were all black. And all around him, he could see himself. Infinitely. The sides of the mirrors had neon running from the ceiling to the ground, slowly switching between shades of dark blue to royal purple, to black. The black would leave the entire mirror maze in complete darkness for the four seconds that it lasted, but when the lights would come back on, it was incredible to see infinite versions of himself everywhere. In the far left, he could see a little kid and her sister running through the mirror maze together. They could be five feet away. They could also be fifty feet away, and he wouldn’t know. 

  Katsuki walked foot first, using his forward feet to scan the mirrors in order to see which of the four walls that surrounded him was a walkway. The mirror maze was just constructed of a ton of panels looping into a pretty extensive maze for the size that it was. 

  Some panels were mirrors. Some were glass. All was pretty difficult to navigate, especially with the slowly changing lights and abrupt darkness that would disorient people once every couple of minutes. The mirror maze had a different route every year, but even if it didn’t, it wasn’t as if Katsuki could remember what it was from the previous year. 

  In speakers scattered throughout the entire mirror maze, 80s music played in the typical Ise fashion. The last thirty seconds or so of Out Of Touch by Daryl Hall and John Oates was playing, an instant recognizable hit that Katsuki was kind of sick of by now. The blonde found himself fortunate that he was born and raised in a town that oddly enough was as obsessed with his favorite genre of music. He almost felt bad for those who vehemently hated 80s music, since everyone is constantly surrounded by it in Ise. 

  As the last few notes of the song plays, he waits for the next one to come on. But it takes a while. There was a long five or so minute pause between the end of that song and the beginning of the next one, which was dumb. The preprogrammed music was probably some old machinery from decades ago that they’re still using today. 

  When the new song comes on, Katsuki recognized it to be Can’t We Try by Dan Hill and Vonda Shepard. It wasn’t his favorite, that was for sure, but he knew of it and liked it well enough. The melody was nice, but the last two minutes of the song is ruined by Vonda Shepard screeching into the mic and Dan Hill failing to harmonize currently, not that Katsuki was a music critic or anything. 
That being said, the soft chords of the digital piano at the first half of the song vibed with him in the moment, and the song already has a natural echo in it, which gets amplified in this maze of mirrors. 
Katsuki walks, and when he turns the corner, from across the mirror maze or so it seemed from his perspective, also walking parallel to him was a certain boy with fluffy curly hair and doe-like green eyes. There were many of him in the mirrors. A plain white t-shirt with the Ise High Student Council logo on the front breast pocket in small font, and a pair of black shorts. Under the slowly changing lights, the purple and blue hue envelopes the boy beautifully. 
  Katsuki walked parallel and suddenly, red eyes met green, and Izuku’s eyes widened at the sight of the blonde standing on the other side of the maze. They could be three feet apart, or thirty. The music continues to play, and Vonda Shepard’s verse comes in. 

  The lighting cuts to black for three seconds, and his sight of Izuku is gone. He’s only left with the sound of music and his own breathing. His eyes dart back and forth in the darkness, and like a mirage, when the lights turn back on again, Katsuki walks towards Izuku as if the sight was going to disappear. 

  And he walks straight into a glass panel, stumbling back just one step with a shout, “F@ck!”

  Katsuki clutches his nose, and winces at the pain that resulted from his own idiocy, before looking back across the glass panel. And right then, he sees just a sliver of Izuku’s laugh. The dark circles that laid a little bit underneath the boy’s eyes were forgotten for a second in exchange for the nice little crinkle of a smile that bloomed. It wasn’t all the way there, but it was more than he’s gotten and Katsuki was a starved man. 

  Katsuki quirked one brow, and then his gaze dropped to the ground for a second, listening into the song.

  
    Can't we try just a little bit harder
  

  
    Can't we give just a little bit more
  

  When the blonde looks back up, Izuku from the side still had his head turned towards him. Katsuki follows that gaze and he starts to walk to his right. At the same time, Izuku slowly walks parallel, like they were mirroring each other’s movements. And then, Katsuki no longer sees him, the view covered up by mirrors until he can only see himself in all directions. 

  Putting his hand up against the wall, Katsuki felt around as he strolled slowly for different paths. As he makes a corner, Katsuki sees Izuku again. The boy notices him straight away, and just keeps his gaze as they slowly stroll. It was almost like a trance, as the colors change from blue to purple to black, shrouding them in darkness until he could see that face again. 

  
    Can't we try to understand
  

  
    That it's love we're fighting for
  

  One moment, Katsuki would see Izuku in the mirrors. The next, he’d turn a corner and only see himself. It alternated like this back and forth as the blonde got closer and closer to where the 
  
    real
  
   Izuku was, or at least where Katsuki thought he was. He comes up to a wall, and his foot taps against glass. Midoriya Izuku stands on the other side, staring through the glass, wondering if it was a mirror, but figuring that wouldn’t make sense. Behind Izuku, Katsuki could see both of their reflections repeating until infinity. He was so close. Just a panel away. 

  The greenette brings a hand up slowly to tap against the glass, before asking in a quiet voice, “Is this you?”

  Katsuki continues to walk towards his right very slowly, Izuku walking parallel on the other side. The blonde drags his fingers against the panel. 

  “Yeah,” He responded. They could hear each other through the glass, contrary to earlier when they were further apart. 

  The glass panel ends and the mirror begins again. Katsuki stares at himself as he proceeds, before it once more turns into glass. His fingertips connect to Izuku through a glass panel, and he’s reminded of the Hideaway in his bedroom balcony, and the memory jolts him in the wrong way. Once again, it is as if everything between them was just glass and mirrors, going around in circles, trying to get to each other only to end up so close, yet not quite there. Able to see each other and be in each other’s presence, but that ever lasting boundary was always there. They were fated to be forever stuck in this maze, always 
  
    this
  
   close, but never on the same side. 

  Izuku leans his head up against the glass, and turns so that the smaller’s back was sliding down against the wall. Izuku slides down until he was sitting on the floor, back leaning up, head resting back against the pane. After a moment, Katsuki turns his back, and does the same, until the two of them were sitting with their backs towards each other, a sheet of glass in between and an infinite series of mirrors in front of them. It might be easier this way to be in the boy’s presence, if he wasn’t directly looking at him. They let the music run its course, and watched as the lights morph in and out. 

  “I hate the ending of this song,” Katsuki whispers.

  After taking a moment, Izuku asks him, voice sounding soft, “Why?”

  “Gets repetitive,” Is the only thing Katsuki has to offer as an explanation, and he cannot begin to describe how much he misses Izuku’s voice. He acts as if it’s been a year, when it’s only been a couple of days. When his ‘normal’ is out of balance like this, it felt like it. 

  “Oh,” He hears Izuku say, “I can kind of see that.”

  To this, the blonde says nothing. He wishes this panel between them was gone so that he could smell that lily scent another time, and feel the green hair tickle his neck. And they sit here as the last stretch of the song plays. And it's quiet again. 

  “Kacchan,” Izuku then speaks up, and the sound through the glass was a lot clearer than he would have thought. It was probably less than a centimeter thick of plexiglass, “Have you…” There was hesitance in his soft tone, “Have you been okay?”

  At this, the blonde puts his knees up and legs apart, resting an elbow on each of them, toying with the edge of a chocolate wrapper he found in the pocket of his pants, and he chuckles quietly, “You’re asking 
  
    me 
  
  that?”

  Izuku laughs airily in response, before excusing himself, “Yeah. You didn’t look so good the other day on the field.”

  Katsuki hummed in response, and bit the inside of his cheek, before telling the other, “You don’t look so hot either, nerd.” The last word came out softly. 

  “Oh, really?” Izuku asked, sounding unsurprised by the observation. Katsuki wanted to ask what they were doing, having this conversation. 

  “Yeah,” The blonde swallowed, before asking, eyes tilted down towards his feet, “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

  He could hear the sound of Izuku moving, before the boy answers with a small laugh, “I get a couple of hours here and there.”

  That didn’t settle well in Katsuki’s stomach, but he had to ask some more, “Have you been getting enough to eat?”

  “I’m fine, Kacchan,” Izuku assures him then, gentle with his words, “I’m okay.”

  “Are you really?” Katsuki asked, swallowing again, as the music fades out a little bit. 
  
    Because I’m not
  
  . 

  Silence. And the lights turn slowly from that royal blue again to a pitch black in the time interval where Izuku didn’t answer. 

  “I’ll be okay, yeah,” Izuku reassured him again in his warm voice. There was this air of finality to this conversation, and Katsuki doesn’t like where it was headed. There was no yelling, no heated tears, no tension. Just this after-the-storm sadness. 

  “Right,” Katsuki coarsely responded. 

  The song ends, and they sit in the silence for a while, waiting for the next one to come. But it’ll be a little while before it comes on. 

  Izuku began again, before hesitating, as indicated by the thoughtful pause in between his words, “I didn’t mean to...overwhelm you that night.” 

  So they 
  
    were 
  
  going to talk about it. Katsuki’s heart rate increased a bit at the flashbacks of memories. It’s been four days. He thought that he’d be fine by this point. F@ck. 

  “Overwhelm me?” Katsuki asked, voice hoarse, wanting clarification. 

  “Looking back, I realized I said a lot of things in the heat of the moment,” Izuku admits in a lower tone. 

  And Katsuki doesn’t turn to look, but in the mirror in front of him, he could see the back of Izuku’s hair shift as the greenette slumps a little. 

  The blonde asks, “Like that you love me?” What a stupid question. Of course it wouldn’t be. 

  “No, that one is true,” Izuku laughs with a hint of pain in his voice, “But…”

  There was a long pause, and Katsuki plays with the wooden beaded bracelet on his wrist as he waits. 

  “...” Izuku took a breath, it sounded like, “I shouldn’t have asked you to feel the same.” 

  
    Tell me you love me too
  
  . Katsuki remembers that tear soaked face, those pained eyes.

  Katsuki’s stomach involuntarily twisted at this, and he wanted to know exactly what Izuku meant. 

  As if trying to make himself as clear as possible, the greenette spoke up again quickly, “Not because you can’t. But because that’s...that’s unfair of me.”

  Katsuki says nothing, just stares off into the mirrors. 

  “I don’t regret telling you how I feel,” Izuku brightens up his voice as best as he could, and Katsuki just wishes he wouldn’t do that, “Because it was killing me to hold it in. I don’t regret telling you 
  
    why
  
   I feel the way I do. Because you deserve to know that you are easy to fall in love with.”

  Easy to fall in love with. The last thing Katsuki would ever expect to be said of him was that he was easy to fall in love with. He wasn’t the most rational person, the most calm, the most kind. Hell, he was barely kind at all. And yet, this boy who knew all of this and more, still claims that he was easy to love. 

  And finally, the music starts up again. A much more sentimental one turns on, and the sweet sound of piano echoes through the mirror maze. This one, Katsuki hasn’t heard in a long time. He thinks the last time he’s heard this particular song, he was too young to remember it. The only reason it rings a bell now was the unmistakable bittersweet piano intro that stole his attention. 

  Goodbye by Air Supply reverberated through the chamber of mirrors as they both sit there back to back. The piano at the beginning was such a beautiful sound. 
    

  
    I can see the pain living in your eyes
  

  
    And I know how hard you try
  

  
    You deserve to have so much more
  

  He did. Izuku deserved the world, and the pain in that boy’s eyes resonated with the lyrics too well. Katsuki gets a sick feeling. 

  Izuku speaks up again just as the words come in.

  “What I do regret, is asking you to tell me you feel the same,” Izuku’s composure then begins to crack at the edges, for Katsuki could hear the slight break in his voice as he speaks, “Because...what was that one song?” Izuku thinks on it, before laughing a little bit and then quietly says, “Right. Because...I can’t make you love me," He swallows, "...if you don’t. So I’m sorry.”

  Katsuki’s mind flashes back to the night of the Spring Dance, under the sprinklers, and that song started to play with Izuku singing along. At the time, he was curious, as to why exactly it felt like the boy sounded so in tune with the lyrics. Well, now he knew. It had been a precious memory. Only now that Izuku repeats the title that it began to turn a little retrospectively painful. 

  “Deku,” Katsuki spoke up, “Don’t f@ck@ng apologize. It’s fin-”

  “No, it’s not,” Izuku argued gently, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these past couple of days, Kacchan.”

  Katsuki doesn’t like the sound of that. He doesn’t know what it is yet, but he doesn’t f@ck@ng like the sound of that. He feels as if he’s been trying to do the opposite. As little thinking as possible. 

  
    I can feel your heart and I sympathize
  

  
    And I'll never criticize all you've ever meant to my life
  

  “...” Katsuki swallowed, and his eyes are forlorn as he asks, “Yeah?”

  The blonde hears a small sniffle, and he knew what was going on, on the opposite side of this glass and his chest feels heavy thinking of it. 

  “I've been thinking a lot. And...And I’m g-going to try extra hard, okay?” Izuku asked him, voice cracking left and right. And Katsuki wanted so badly to shatter these walls between them, but he could barely even bring himself to 
  
    look
  
   at the boy. 

  Try extra hard? Katsuki thought to himself, wondering what the f@ck Izuku was getting at. In the background, the bittersweet song continues to ring through the halls. It was overwhelming. It feels as if everything was happening at once. Izuku talking, Izuku's voice cracking, his own lack of articulation, the music, the song, the song's lyrics that he found himself paying attention to, all while simulataneously trying to keep his composure. It was getting a little much, and Katsuki wishes that it was just one thing or the other, not everything happening all at once. If he was going to listen to the song, then he wanted to listen to the song. If he was going to talk to Izuku, then he wanted just to talk to Izuku. And yet, he was juggling everything at once, unable to separate one from the other, as it seems the two are tied. 

  
    I don't want to let you down
  

  
    I don't want to lead you on
  

  
    I don't want to hold you back
  

  
    From where you might belong
  

  He doesn’t like these lyrics. He doesn’t like this song that much anymore. He listens to them, and all he can f@ck@ng think about was that 
  
    he
  
   didn’t want to let Izuku down, 
  
    he
  
   didn’t want to lead Izuku on unsure of his own ability to feel, and 
  
    he
  
   didn’t want to hold Izuku back, even if he wanted to be by the boy’s side so f@ck@ng badly. 

  Izuku expands on his thoughts, “I-I don’t want you to worry, Kacchan. Because I won’t let it be a burden to you any longer, I promise,” Izuku tried to make his voice cheerful as he promises, although it was obvious by this point that the greenette was fighting back a cry. 

  
    There's nothing left to say but good-bye.
  

  Not that line. He hated that line, Katsuki thought to himself while simultaneously trying to interpret what the f@ck Izuku was saying. Everything was crescendoing and it was about to be a 
  
    lot
  
   all at once. In combination with this song, and Izuku’s slow words that was getting to 
  
    some
  
   point that Katsuki wasn’t sure he even wanted to hear, the blonde couldn’t do anything but sit there. The colors changed, but he was barely noticing that either. 

  
    You deserve the chance at the kind of love
  

  
    I'm not sure I'm worthy of
  
 
  “I promise I’ll get over you,” Izuku tells him, with a sad but optimistic tone that was shaking, “I know you care for me, a-and that you’ve probably been feeling g-guilty. But I’ll try my best,” His voice tapers out into a whimper and he tries to finish his sentence, “I’ll try my best to get over you, I promise Kacchan. I promise.” He lets out a tiny cry at the end, and Katsuki hangs onto every word. 

  “Izu-” He tries to speak up, but his voice stops and his tongue finds itself unable to say anything. What was he supposed to say. What the f@ck was he supposed to say. All that Katsuki knew was that right now, this horrible sensation in his gut was making him sick. Izuku was going to get over him. Izuku is not going to love him anymore. But this is good, right? This is a good thing. But then, that didn’t explain this feeling, of dread and fear. 

  Katsuki, out of shock, turns around, and at the movement, Izuku feels movement against the glass on the other side and turns his head to the side too, body moving to partially face the blonde. And Katsuki could see now the tear streaked face, and the eyes that looked dulled out. But there was a genuine smile playing on Izuku’s face.

  He sees Izuku take a labored breath, before continuing, “It’ll be okay.”

  "What do you mean it'll be okay?" Katsuki breathlessly asked. 

  And Izuku for a while doesn't say anything. And they sit there. Katsuki facing the Izuku through the glass panel. Izuku staring down at his feet, which were drawing shapes on the ground. The colors changing from purple to blue to black over and over again. 

  Izuku then looks off to the side, as if daydreaming things that brought a bit of pain to his face, before softly vowing, “One day, I’m going to meet someone.”

  Bakugo Katsuki’s heart f@ck@ng dropped, and he’s completely silent as he listens. Everything else is drowned out. Those words were enough to punch him in the gut. 

  Izuku purses his lips, before sniffling in to clear his nose and continuing with a small smile, “He won’t have ruby eyes like you do, or hands that hold me like you do...

  A pause, and then a brief moment of happienss flashes through Izuku's eyes as he finishes, "...but he’ll love me too."

   Izuku then squeezes his eyes shut momentarily to prevent himself from crying further but it doesn’t work, and quiet tears stream down his cheek, and his words are shaky, “He might not make me laugh until I cry as much as you do, o-or take me to pretty fields like you have, but he’ll love me too."

  No. This is. F@ck. No. F@ck. 

  "H-He’ll love me too,” Izuku repeats, voice breaking. 

  Katsuki wants this to stop. He wants all of this to stop, because the way he was feeling right now, it felt like someone took a million knives and pierced it into his lung. 

  Izuku’s lips wobbled as he spoke, but he tries to keep his tone as even as he could, “He might not jump off piers with me, or sneak into abandoned school buildings with me...” Izuku laughs sadly.

  And then Izuku clears his throat, “But he’ll kiss me on top of the ferris wheel. And he’ll pick me up and spin me around in public, show the world how much he loves me.” Izuku smiles at the thought. 

  Taking a deep breath, the green eyed boy admits painfully, “A-And it’ll take a long time, but maybe, one day, your voice will be replaced with his."

  "Your laugh, replaced with his smile,” Izuku’s voice continued to break as he speaks, “Sunsets with you, replaced by sunrises with him.” Izuku looks up towards the ceiling and takes a deep breath, wiping away his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. 

  Katsuki can’t f@ck@ng hear this anymore. Every word slams him like a g@dd@mn car moving at full speed towards his chest. 

  Izuku then looked into his eyes and give him a very soft, genuine look, “And some day after that, maybe I’ll love him too. The way that I love you.” 

  A million things run through Katsuki’s head, but nothing more prominent than the searing pain that hits him right where it hurts. 

  “And I’ll get married,” Izuku’s shoulder shake, and his voice is higher pitched now from the final breakage, “And it’s going to be like what I always dreamed of, with the beachside ceremony and the five layer mint icing cake.”

  The thought of Izuku married, to some man. Izuku, in a beautiful suit or whatever he chose to wear, blush sprinkled on his cheeks, staring into someone’s eyes as they vowed to love each other till death does them apart, dancing the first dance and slicing into the cake like all the newlyweds do. The thought of Izuku spending the rest of his life with someone else, waking up in the morning next to someone else who would kiss all of the boy’s freckles and wrap his arms around that soft, warm waist. The thought killed Katsuki more than he could describe right then. 

  “Maybe I want kids,” Izuku very faintly laughs as he thinks about it, “It would be nice to adopt. Have some little ones running around, and I can tell them stories about the cool adventures I had with my childhood best friend, or new ones with their dad. And we’ll all be big fans of yours, Katsuki,” He says the blonde’s name, “I’ll watch you on TV, wonder what you’ve been up to, if you’ve been happy and healthy...” Izuku nods his head slowly then before looking back at the athlete, “But no matter what, I’ll get over you, Kacchan. I promise, I will,” He couldn’t help crying as he repeats, “I promise.”

  “F@ck, Izuku,” Katsuki ran a hand over his face, and buried his fingers in his own hair for a moment, before looking back at the other, barely able to say anything of substance in response, “How the f@ck are you going to-” He couldn’t even finish. 

  It looks like the greenette wasn’t done, as he continued to sniffle and wipe away at his nose and face, before opening his pretty lips. 

  “One more thing. You’re capable of loving, Kacchan. And I need you to know that,” Izuku breaths in with a sniffle and then exhaled.

  Katsuki’s heart thumped in his g@dd@mn chest like drums. Capable of loving. Love. What even is that? Was it simply caring for someone? No, because he cared for his teammates, but he wouldn’t say he was in love with them at all. Was it spending a lot of time with someone? No, because he spent plenty of time with Kiri, but he definitely wasn’t in love with the guy. Was it that feeling of heated passion that you share with someone? No, because Katsuki has had his fair share of intimate heated exchanges, yet he’s never even 
  
    once
  
   considered that to be love. 

  Or was love more like this? That feeling of losing his g@dd@mn breath every single time he looks upon that face and counts those freckles. This feeling of overwhelming, excruciating pain at each and every word Izuku was saying This feeling that he can’t f@ck@ng imagine two weeks in the g@dd@mn future without this kid, much less the rest of his life. Was it? Was love more like this? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he was looking at Izuku, and the glass between them felt like prison, and all he wanted to f@ck@ng do was break it. 

  Izuku continued to speak. 

  “And y-you’re going to be great to someone one day. You’re going to be an amazing lover to a very, 
  
    very
  
   lucky person one day.” Izuku genuinely smiled at him with clear pain in his eyes, and 
  
    no, no, God no
  
  , Katsuki didn’t want to hear Izuku say this, any of this, but the greenette still spoke, “If the way you’ve treated me as a friend is indicative of anything, then I know that sometime in the future, you’re going to make someone so, 
  
    so
  
   happy,” Izuku closed his eyes and squeezed the tears away as his lips wobbled at the last word. 

  “Stop,” Katsuki’s voice came out so hoarse, and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. He needed Izuku to stop. Someone else? He was going to make someone else happy? At the moment, all Katsuki wanted to do was stomp on the notion. He imagines it now. Somewhere down the road, can he even picture a someone else? It was like when he closes his eyes and thinks of where he wants to be ten years from now, the only image that appears is that of messy green hair and a lazy smile at 8 in the morning, half covered in white linen bedsheets and complaining to Katsuki about not wanting to get up for work. The only image that f@ck@ng appears is wide green eyes looking up at him, warm hands on his face, soft lips reminding him of summers and springs in the youthful Ise lakes and rivers. Was 
  
    this
  
   love? How would he know? How would he f@ck@ng now. 

  “And I hope they love all your favorite songs too, and doesn’t mind going with you to the creek, even if it gets a little muddy,” Izuku cries a bit while laughing gently to himself, “And I hope that your little surprises bring them the most joy, and that they’ll wake up every morning more in love with you than the day before,” He breaths in and doesn’t like at Katsuki, “Don’t ever doubt your ability to love again, because I promise you Kacchan, you’ll do an amazing job.”

  He pauses, and his head is tilted towards the ground, eyes trying to hide the silent crying to no avail, just before he whispers, “I hope it wasn’t so wrong of me to wish that it could have been me.”

  Katsuki feels his head pound, and he was struggling to find something to say, but there was too much in his mind that he was trying to process. Like gears turning in his brain, but they weren’t connecting just yet. 

  It isn’t like anyone has a definition for love. On google, love is defined as this: “An intense feeling of deep affection.” But what did that even entail, g@dd@mnit? He could feel that sh@t with a kitten. That didn’t mean he was in love with a kitten. Katsuki was sure he could ask anybody, and he doubts a single person could describe what it means to be in love in simple words. It isn’t just commitment. You can be committed to a job or a friend, that doesn’t mean it’s love. It isn’t just passion. You can have passion with a s@x partner or a hobby. That doesn’t mean it’s love. It isn’t just affection. You can feel affection towards any regular ole friend. 

  Could it be described as a combination? Loyalty, passion, and affection? No, because all those g@dd@mn terms could be applied to a very devoted company employee or someone’s housepet. No, no that’s not it at all. 

  In all the times Katsuki’s ever heard talk of love, it’s been wrapped up in two ideas, two concepts. 

  The first is specific feelings, scenarios. Love is abstract, described in feeling and scenarios that are specific to each person. He’s heard his mother say that love was dark chocolate strawberries and roller skating rinks. He didn’t get it as a kid. And to literally anyone else, love doesn’t feel like that. But to his mother, who adores the dark chocolate strawberries that Maseru makes and who met her husband at a roller skating rink, it made sense. 

  He’s heard his grandfather say love was running through the storm with his wife and playing bean bag toss at the farmer’s market on Sunday afternoons. To anyone else, love may not feel like that. But to his grandfather, who fell in love through those activities, it made sense. 

  He’s heard Izuku say that love was like flying. And to anyone else, to Katsuki, who’s been flying all of his life, it didn’t feel like that. But to Izuku, who loved him like no one else ever had and ever will, and who's looked up to the sky wondering what freedom and exhileration tasted like, it made sense. 

  And now him, love, if it was going to be like anything, 
  
    anything
  
   at all, then it’s going to be like falling. Turbulent, terrifying, exhilarating, intense, a loss of control. And to anyone else, who had a stronger grasp of this emotional sh@t than he did, love probably didn’t feel like this. But to him, to Katsuki, who’s flown all his life and has only been shown the beauty of the ground that he was now falling towards, it made sense.

  If everything that flies eventually falls, then Katsuki wouldn’t mind. 

  As long as there was someone on the ground to catch him. 
 
  And 
  
    f@ck
  
  , he was sinking deeper and deeper into a realization that his mind and body feel overwhelmed all of a sudden. The music, the atmosphere, the feelings he was going through, the self-spiel he just made: it all pointed towards one conclusion. 

  He f@ck@ng- Was he? Oh f@ck. Katsuki’s hand twitched. He moved on, his brain processing everything too intensely.

  The second concept that love is always wrapped around in: music. If the first grasp of love he’s got was how it was described in objects, scenarios, sensations, then the second most predominant one was music. Because what better outlet for love than music? 

  Katsuki usually didn’t care for lyrics, and in fact, he used to listen to his playlist mindlessly. He liked the melodies and the beats, and that was all to it. But f@ck, he’s been paying more and more attention to the lyrics for what seems like most songs these days. Those devilish 80s love songs and ballads, he can’t help but pay attention to the words. These songs 
  
    always
  
   talked about love, heartbreak, and whatnot. 

  And the memory jolts him. 

  
    You know you’re in love when the love songs you listen to feel less like stories, and more like reality.
  

  And as he listens to Goodbye now, he doesn’t like it. He doesn't like it at all. 

  Because f@ck@ng hell, he stills and his heart starts beating fast. These lyrics, these melodies, this everything reminded him of Izuku. It didn’t just remind him of Izuku, it felt like the song was truth unfolding in front of his eyes. And it wasn’t just this song. It was the one before that. And the one before 
  
    that
  
  . All of these f@ck@ng songs. 

  All this time he’s been with Izuku and wondering why he’s been noticing the godd@mn lyrics more when he hadn’t before, he didn’t even stop 
  
    once
  
   to think that maybe, just maybe, it’s because for the first time in his life, he was relating to these d@mn lyrics. For the first time in his life, a singer would talk about some concept, and he’d understand it. Oh f@ck@ng hell. Katsuki's grip on his own knees got tighter, and his eyes are wide open, and his breathing gets heavier. Because. Because. 

  For the first time in his life, Bakugo Katsuki realizes that he is in love. And this fact hits him like a d@mn truck, because f@ck. 
  
    F@ck
  
  . Why here? Why now, just when Izuku seems to have made an ultimatum? Why not back at the Hideaway? Why not even earlier? Why couldn't he realize this while he still had the ability to put a smile on Izuku's face? And even now, what is he supposed to do? Was he ever sure? Was Katsuki sure? Or was this incredibly explosive, painful yet beautiful feeling in his entire body something else? Has he f@ck@ng been in love all this time, and it took this long, this moment where it's all crashing down, for him to get slapped in the face with it? Izuku's eyes, Izuku's lips, Izuku's laugh, Izuku's hair, Izuku's ramblings, Izuku's pout, Izuku's ambition, Izuku's kindness, Izuku's intensity, Izuku's f@ck@ng entire being. God, was this love? This was it, right? Katsuki's breathing gets heavier. 

  He loved the boy in front of him. And this realization causes him to go into a bit of a shock, and he doesn’t know what the do. Because what now? What was he even supposed to do now with this information? Say it? But how? How did everyone make it look so easy? He couldn't do it. Not now. He could barely process the realization, much less do something about it. He wasn't even sure. Was he? 

  The crux of the song was approaching, and he hated it more than ever. 

  
    Though it's gonna hurt us both
  

  
    There's no other way than to say…
  

  No. Oh, god no. If this love song’s story was to turn into their reality, then Katsuki wants another one. He wants another story. A different one. A different song, because this one? This one was too sad, this one felt like-

  “Deku…” Katsuki breathes out, and looked at Izuku’s bittersweet expression, and he wanted it to go away, “Why does this feel like-”

  
    ...goodbye
  
  , the lyrics conclude. 

  “Goodbye?” Izuku synced his words to the end of the song, and it goes quiet again. 
 
  They sit across from each other, separated by a panel of glass. Katsuki could barely talk or listen after coming to the conclusion that he had and now not knowing how to f@ck@ng handle it after 18 years of believing this was never meant for him. But Izuku’s words of goodbye stabbed him in the heart, as he knew it did for Izuku. 

  “That’s because it is,” Izuku sniffled, “We’re about to be on break, right? Besides,” He wipes at his eyes and gave Katsuki a small smile, “I told you. I’m going to try my hardest to get over you, Kacchan.”

  
    No. No, don’t do that
  
  . Katsuki needed to say it. He just needed to f@ck@ng say it. He was so d@mn frustrated with himself, that he was internally going inside. He was still in a f@ck@ng shock from his realization, that he was listening to the boy he realizes that he is in love with, and letting him give up on them. Before Katsuki could even get started. 

  But his tongue was tied. Because he still can’t comprehend it. He was in love. He was f@ck@ng in love, and it is the most painful, rewarding, excruciating feeling. And he had no g@dd@mn idea how Izuku kept this inside for so long, and that made him ache some more. Katsuki needed to say something. Say something now, godd@mnit, he cursed out his lips. Say something, you f@ck@ng idiot. 

  “Wait,” Katsuki asked, for the fiftieth time. And there was panic clear in his expression, he was sure. 

  Izuku paused then, and looked at him. Katsuki stared back, tongue tied. There was so much to say. So f@ck@ng much to say, that he doesn’t know how to say it. He hasn’t completely comprehended it yet, either. So anything that he says right now, if he 
  
    could
  
   say anything, would sound so f@ck@ng disingenous. He didn’t know what to do. F@ck. 

  And so as Katsuki look into Izuku’s eyes now, he thinks of sunlit forests of magnolias and oaks, freshly cut grass pulling up to the Midoriya’s house, greenish-blue tinted waters of the clear creeks they swim in. And he wonders what he has been doing all this time, because just as this is all ending right in front of his face, Katsuki finds Izuku’s eyes too beautiful to look away from. 

  The mirror maze was going to be closed down very soon, and he knew that Kaito Sen was outside somewhere waiting for the last person to come out so they could shut down. Inside, the lights still strobed slowly, and these infinite reflections were beginning to exhaust him. 

  Mirrors, everywhere. Mirrors reflecting back on him. Mirrors reflecting back on Izuku. On the two of them together On the two of them separately. He wanted to reach through to the other side of the glass, and have Izuku sit in his mind for just a moment. Because if he did, then Izuku would know: some semblance of how he felt. But the mirrors only reflected himself. He will forever be subjected and limited to his own perspective. 

  So as Katsuki looked across the glass and mirrors, he finds himself wanting so badly to fuse into the other side, to see what Izuku sees. Did he look as nervous as he felt? Did he look as scared as he felt? Did Katsuki look as panicked and in shock? What did he see? Could he see that Katsuki had just had the biggest realization of his life and it's wrecking him? What did he f@ck@ng see? 

  Red eyes. 

  Red eyes. As bright as roses, as sharply hot as embers. A bit of shock, nervousness, for a reason that he couldn’t quite decipher why. Lips that parted slightly as if they wanted to say something, hands that were large and calloused slightly clammy looking from the sweat. Why? Why, why, why? What for? 

  As Izuku looks into Katsuki’s eyes now, he thinks of cherry pies, and red lily petals. Intense sunsets washing over the ocean turning the entire thing ruby, and neon signs above ice cream parlours. And he wonders what has happened to get to this point, because just as this is all ending right in front of his face, Izuku finds Katsuki’s eyes--eyes that he usually could spend eternity staring into--Izuku finds them too painful to look at. 
 
  In fact, everything has been a little too painful lately, and a day feels like a month when he spends all day doing anything to keep his mind off of Katsuki. Katsuki. Katsuki. Katsuki. That name stays on his tongue, and what used to taste like sugar and cherry gatorade now tastes like ash and heartbreak. He feels the phantom touch of Katsuki’s fingers tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, or the ding of Katsuki’s text that wasn’t going to come on the afternoons where he found himself craving the athlete so badly that he is 
  
    this
  
   close to going back into the wheel he broke on Saturday night and playing hamster, bound to go in circles over and over again breaking his heart every time with a boy who had no intentions of loving him back. 

  Katsuki tells him ‘Wait,’ but nothing comes. Nothing comes for a while, even though Izuku still has a hopeless dream that something will. The last time Katsuki told him to wait, it ended up like this too. 

  And Izuku was a patient person, and he didn’t mind being so. All good things come with time. Bakugo Katsuki, for example. Izuku doesn’t know how long he’s been waiting for the athlete to merely be his friend. Midoriya Inko, for example. Izuku didn’t know how long he’s been waiting for his mother to let him breathe a little bit. And in the end, none of that happened until he put his foot down and thought about what he needed. His mother wasn’t going to stop her behavior until he took a stand for what he wanted. 

  And Katsuki. Izuku wasn’t going to stop breaking his own heart until he took a stand for what he needed. And that is distance and time. Patience is a virtue, but when the process of waiting ends up harming you, then patience can become a vice. 

  And so now, as Katsuki tells him once more to wait, Izuku wonders if anything was coming. If anything was ever going to come. He could feel his face slightly slimy with tears, and he wished he could have had this conversation with Katsuki while keeping full composure. But he should have known better. He was a cryer. And for the last couple of days, it seems like the one thing he knew how to do best. 

  Looking at Katsuki now from across the glass panel and then all around him in the mirrors, Izuku sees a mixture of emotion on the blonde’s face. Amongst them was what looked to be nervousness. Was it because of what Izuku had said about this being goodbye? Because if it was, then Izuku understood. He was nervous too. 

  Katsuki was likely nervous because after all, before anything else, they were friends for a long time that spent so many waking hours with one another. And now that Izuku decided that he needed to do this for his own good, it made sense that the athlete could get nervous about losing a close friend. Izuku wanted to reach out, touch that handsome face, and tell him it’s okay. That Katsuki was wonderful in many ways, that Katsuki will have many friends who care and love him, but he refrains. 

  After a long moment, and no words come out of the athlete’s mouth, Izuku accepts this as the end. The lights in the mirror maze fade to black, and in the four seconds that it stays that way, Izuku gets up from the floor and stands up, wiping his face one more time. This was a bittersweet goodbye. Izuku just wanted to go home and shove his face in his pillow for a while. 

  When the blue LEDs take over again, Katsuki seemed to have noticed him stand and the blonde quickly stands up following suit, mouth still partly open but no words coming from it. Izuku dropped his arm, done wiping at his face, and smiles one last time even though his heart ached like hell. If he could give Katsuki this one last thing, it would be his smile and his hope that the boy is happy. And he began to walk towards his right where he had left off in the mirror maze. 

  Katsuki placed a fist on the glass panel, and Izuku could hear the boy tell him to wait again, but Izuku keeps walking, keeping his face tense so that he doesn’t break down again. From his peripheral, right before he slips through a mirrored tunnel, Izuku sees Katsuki frantically feeling around the mirror maze for a path, but coming to a dead end and panicking, turning back around. 

  Izuku’s face scrunched up as if he was about to cry, but he looked up towards the ceiling and blinked a couple of times, before calming his breath, and feeling around the mirror maze for the exit. He feels like he is close, and he focuses his energy on navigating his way out until he reached the spiral staircase that led up to the slide on the second floor. 

  Up there, a member of the vault team spotted him. 

  “Hey, Midoriya!” He waves, “Are you the last one in there? We’re about to close up.”

  Izuku keeps his face hidden, and he shakes his head, “Kacchan is still in there.”

  “Oh sh@t, Midoriya, are you alright?” He asked, and Izuku figures that he can try to hide, but the cracked voice, sniffling, and tear streaked face is a dead giveaway even if he looks down. 

  “Yeah, I’m fine!” He found himself slipping into his old habit of pretending he was okay when he was not. 

  That was normal, he told himself. Fixing bad habits is not an overnight adjustment. A lifetime of habituation will not be erased in months. These days, he’s got it 75% down, but in times like these, he rather people not worry. 

  “Are you sure?” The vaulter looked concerned. 

  “Yeah! Thank you for worrying, but I’m okay!” Izuku nods, before sitting down on the black slide, grabbing the top handle, before letting go. 

  The fundraiser is already in the process of getting cleaned up, as most people have left aside from the clean up crew and those in charge of the booths. Trash can being picked up, tables were being put down and transported back into the school’s storage rooms, and the inflatable slides and what not were slowly deflating. As for the more heavy duty equipment, the companies that rented them out will come first thing tomorrow to pick it up. For now, everyone’s job is to shut down any mechanism, and then clean up in their area. Izuku, as Student Council Member, didn’t have to do anything. But there only needed to be four council members on duty at a given time, and his shifts were over an hour ago. Which meant, he could head home. 

  He grabs a cap from a table of unused prizes, and puts on his head to cover his eyes. Pieces of hair stuck out on the side, but as long as his face was mostly hidden, maybe people will stop asking questions. 

  Izuku walks briskly to where the parking lot is, ears overwhelmed by how loud the cicadas are tonight, and from behind him, Iida Tenya catches up. 

  “Midoriya-kun,” Iida called out, “Do you have a ride?”

  Izuku stopped, swung his arms a bit, then looked around, before turning to his friend and shaking his head, “No.”

  “I can take you home, if you’d be comfortable,” Iida responded with a vigorous head nod. 

  Izuku breaths heavily and looks back at the fundraiser event, “That’d be great, Iida-kun.”

  Iida Tenya drives a Range Rover that Izuku has only been inside of twice. Usually, when they went out as a group, they took Ochaco’s car. Iida keeps his car clean. That was nice.. 

  “I’m excited to see the announcement on how much we raised,” Iida proudly stated.

  Izuku was not listening, but he hums in response. Instead, his mind was taken back four days ago when he was going home in his Mother’s car that was similar in shape, color, and size as this one. Except it was a Toyota, and not a Range Rover. The Hideaway was tucked into a rather peculiar corner of the area, but his mother had managed to find it. 

  Izuku’s mother had pulled up, tires crunching the sand and gravel underneath the poured drive way, and Izuku left the athlete there as he had turned to get to Inko’s car. The conversation weighed heavily in his mind, and he just needed to get away as far as possible

  The moment Izuku got into the vehicle, all the boy could beg was, “Go, please.”

  His mother’s eyes were blown wide with concern, and she stared at him as if her own heart was broken as well. And Izuku for just a mere second wonders what she’s going to say, because they haven’t really talk a lot, much less about how he had fallen madly in love past the point of return. Was she going to get upset? Say that she was right all along? Say that in the end, the only person he had was her? He wonders. 

  But as the woman turns the car around and bumpily drives out of the sandy driveway, Inko says nothing. The stroboscopic shadows of the trees move across his vision as they drive through the forest, and the owls cooed at night. 

  On the radio, a song plays, and Izuku was tempted to turn it off, wincing in recognition. 

  How Am I Supposed To Live Without You by Michael Bolton. This was a notoriously sad song, but he knew his mother liked it, so he doesn’t ask her to turn it off. Izuku had let the first verse play, head leaning up against the car window as they drive through the sparse forest road, tears streaming down the side of his face. He was glad his mother wasn’t asking, because he wasn’t ready to talk about it. If this was months ago, the woman would have bugged him to death to tell her every single strife and thought he had, or else he would have been called a bad son who didn’t want to be close to her. If nothing else, this was a nice change that he needed, for the argument was still completely fresh.

  His hands were still shaking from that entire interaction with Katsuki. Leaving him there, leaving the love of his life there, after the most beautiful dinner, after the most beautiful friendship and experiences, was the hardest thing that Izuku has ever done besides confront his mother. How could it not be, when Katsuki meant so much to him, when he loved the other so d@mn much?

  
    So tell me all about it, tell me 'bout the plans you're makin'
  

  
    Oh, then tell me one thing more before I go
  

  The involvement of an electric guitar probably meant the song should be happy, but goddamnit, it wasn’t. And Izuku pursed his lips so no sound could come out, but his face was squeezed together and his chest was shaking from holding it down so his mother doesn’t get too concerned. A hand comes up to his mouth, and he tries to muffle his sobs. He curls up into a little ball in the passenger seat, and time is relative. Every single second passed so slowly as he anticipated being home, and the lights on the streets of Ise looked like bokeh through his tear soaked eyelashes. 

  
    Tell me, how am I supposed to live without you?
  

  
    Now that I've been loving you so long
  

  How. How was he going to. Izuku wonders how he is going to navigate all of this, when his life thus far has been integrated with Katsuki’s for as long as he could remember. Even before this project started, Katsuki was his inspiration. For passion. For so much. Seeing that boy leap into the sky was the highlight of his days. His legs were habituated to stopping in front of the fence for a couple of minutes every day. His lips were habituated to breaking out in a smile every time he saw the spikey blonde hair. His mind was habituated to always thinking of him. Trying to navigate these new waters was comparable to ripping away a component of someone’s life that has been so deeply integrated and telling them all of a sudden to live without it. Izuku’s shoulders rack, and he feels a warm hand on his wrist. 

  Looking over slowly at his mother with tears in his eyes and red puffiness in his face, Izuku let out a small mangled, 
  
    Huh?
  

  Inko kept her eyes on the road, but a solemn expression played on her face, as the woman’s sweet voice tells him gently, “It’s okay, ‘Zuku. Let yourself cry.”

  At this, Izuku drops his hand, drops his head, and continues to curl up as his shoulders shake even more from the pain.

  
    How am I supposed to live without you
  

  
    And how am I supposed to carry on?
  

  
    When all that I've been livin' for is gone
  

  Falling in love with Katsuki was so easy. When that boy went out of his way to show him the world, take him to the most beautiful places, tell him some of the most beautiful things, it was so damn easy to fall in love with him. To get lost in that gaze, and drunk in those kisses. But 
  
    being
  
   in love with Katsuki? That was the hard part. Because to live every day in this intense friendship, knowing that the other doesn’t love you back, but acting as if he does. Was he not allowed to be confused and hurt? 

  And now, to continue a life with minimal Katsuki, the world already looks a lot less colorful. 

  
    It's just a dream of mine is coming to an end
  

  
    And how can I blame you when I built my world around
  

  
    The hope that one day we'd be so much more than friends?
  

  They pull up into the Midoriya house’s driveway, and Izuku steps out onto the familiar concrete, and stares up at his two story classic home. The front yard reminded him of too much. The tree that led up to his window reminded him of too much. Even the porch brought back memories of lazy evenings sitting outside sipping on lemonade and talking until nightfall. He knew his room wasn’t going to be any better. 

  
    I don't wanna know the price I'm gonna pay for dreaming, oh
  

  
    Even now it's more than I can take
  

  
    Tell me how am I supposed to live without y-
  

  The car turns off then behind him, and his mother stepped out of the car, jolting Izuku from his trance. And quickly gathering himself, the greenette walks with a slight wobble in his legs up the porch and then inside of the house. He bypasses everything, the living room and headed towards the stairs. Quickly going up the creme carpeting staircase, Izuku turns the corners until he was in their house’s guest room, before he collapses on the bed, kicking his shoes off just before. But overall, not caring that he still had dirty clothes on. 

  When a person cries too much, the strain on his temple can cause a headache, and so Izuku wanted to stop because he could already feel the headache coming on. But the tears just wouldn’t stop. In his head, he could still hear Michael Bolton’s voice singing, and he mouths along to the song while salty tears slipped into his mouth and his voice shook.

  “Tell me how am I supposed to live without you,” Izuku sung quietly to himself in a shaky tone as he cries, head buried into the crook of his elbows, body laying on its stomach. He remembers the sight of Katsuki’s eyes when Izuku told him that he was in love with him. That immediate cloud over, the unwanted shock. It makes him cry harder, and man, was he sick of this. 

  It feels like these days, he was crying left and right, and Izuku wonders when it will all end. Even now as he laid here, he still wonders if Katsuki was okay. He must have felt so overwhelmed, Izuku thought, and some guilt racked through him as well. He hadn’t meant to blow up as he did, but he must imagine that Katsuki likely felt bombarded by his emotions, and all of this makes him feel worse. 

  He continues singing, “Now that I've been lovin' you so long.” 

  And he has. He’s loved Katsuki for a long time. He loved the way Katsuki moved in pole vault since he was 11, standing on the other side of the fence. He loved the way Katsuki did things, and talked, since they started the project and began going on these crazy adventures. And he loved 
  
    Katsuki
  
  , all of Katsuki, sometime along the road, adoring the boy’s disdain for umbrellas and even Katsuki’s love for airplanes. He loved the little parts about Katsuki, as much as he loved the big details that everyone else liked. 

  He laid there for a long time, and it was like he was laying in a pool of his own misery, because the pillow his head was resting on was damp with tears. But slowly, he calms down just enough that he isn’t sobbing between his hiccups, but occasionally, one or two tears will slip easily through his ducts. 

  He lays on his side, so when Midoriya Inko hesitantly came into the guest room with some water in her hands, Izuku notices her right away. The carpeted ground over wood boards creaked a little bit as she walked in, and Inko sat on the edge of the bed, setting the water down on the nightstand, before she lowered her upper body to embrace her son and rub circles into Izuku’s back. 

  The doe eyed boy has a distant glazed over look in his eyes, cheeks cracked with dried tears except for the undereyes which were still shimmering with fresh ones, and Izuku just appeared like he’s been drained of all soul and energy. When his mother began to gently rub circles into his back, Izuku was reminded of how much he missed this. Of how much he missed her. 

  It’s been a while. And a situation like this was the last thing the boy thought would have him in close contact with his mother again, but he needed her now more than ever. And Inko sits there for a long time with him, wiping at his face, and then softly running her fingers through his hair. It looked as if Inko missed doing this too, because there was a bittersweet expression on her face as she do all the things they used to do together all the time when hanging out, just mother and son. 

  His beautiful mother has aged well. She was a nice woman in her mid-40s with no husband, doing well enough for herself. The years hadn’t caught up to her, and there was still firmness in her face. But Izuku could tell the last few months 
  
    did
  
   age her a bit, and he feels just a little bit guilty because he had a strong guess why. Now, the woman’s undereyes were slightly dark, and face a little more worn out. But there was more gentle and genuine movement to her demeanor, and Izuku knows that 
  
    something
  
   at the very least had changed. 

  Inko then sat at the head of the bed, and lifted Izuku’s head enough so that Izuku was now laying in her lap, and she continues to play with his hair, except now, he couldn’t see her face unless he turned his body upwards which he had no intention to do. And for a bit, she just does this. 

  And it’s only about ten minutes later, does the first word get spoken, and Izuku’s sensitive ears perked up. 

  “When I met Hisashi, oh let me tell you, I was smitten,” Inko said very quietly. 

  Izuku stays quiet, not understanding where this conversation was stemming from, but wanting to listen regardless. Maybe it will distract him from Katsuki. 

  Inko took a breath and laughed a little, “He was tall, handsome, with brown eyes. That’s probably where you get the golden flakes in your eyes from, ‘Zuku,” She recalls with an airy chuckle, “And 
  
    oh my
  
  , he was a troublemaker."

  A pause. 

  "I remember the first day we met, he was climbing that magnolia tree in front of Ise High that's been there for forever and called me up there with him even though I was a stranger," Inko recollected, "Well, he ended up falling off and breaking his arm, which was quite a fun first meeting story, but even then, after 3 months recovery, the first thing he did was climb that tree again.”

  At this, Izuku finds himself letting out a small smile, at the thought of his parents when they were younger. The scene played out in his head. He’s watched VHS tapes of them before in the attic, but those were after they were in an established relationship. His mother had never really talked about him otherwise. So this? This was new. 

  “And Hisashi did that for a lot of things. He went everywhere in this little town, and exhausted each place. I was always his chaperone, making sure he doesn’t get into any serious trouble. He’d always tell me ‘Inko! Come with me. Inko! Come up here, it’s beautiful.’ But I never would. It was fun to watch him, but I was too sheltered to try.”

  Izuku can believe that. His mother standing guard as his dad goes and does something wild. He smiles a little more, a tear sliding down his face. 

  “He would break his bones over and over again, end up with a fracture or a sprain. And I wouldn’t understand why he continues to want more. But I loved his spirit. I think it was because it reflected all I was lacking in my own,” Inko then sniffled once but she sounded steady, “I had always thought to myself how Hisashi didn’t belong to this world. It was too small to confine him, and that would scare me. Because a small town like Ise would never be enough to satisfy him. Hisashi wanted to see the world. He wanted to travel, and take me along. Do more. Be more.”

  This was something Izuku has heard before, but usually, his mother said it in a spiteful tone, but this time, it felt somber if anything. A lace of sadness was detected in her words.

  “And I would just play along with his dreams, even though mine were to build a life here, start a family, and watch them grow up in this small town. I figured that by the time we would get married, he’d let go of those dreams and realize what was important,” Inko took a shallow breath, “But he never did. In fact, as he got older and the less time he had left, the more impatient he got with wanting to do more with his life. And I remember late night arguments asking him what more did he want?” Now, it seems like Inko’s voice was shaking a bit, “We had each other. We had you, a mere baby. We had this house, and this town. Our neighbors and our community. What more did he want?”

  Izuku closed his eyes, and lets a couple more tears slip.

  “To see the world, he said. To show us and our baby all the beauty there is to see, he said. To be someone more than a bank teller from a small town, he said,” Inko recited as if these memories never left her, “I told him I don’t need all of that. I didn’t 
  
    want
  
   any of that. And…” She swallowed, “And so he left.”

  Izuku was crying once again, wondering when this will end. 

  “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Hisashi for leaving you, ‘Zuku,” Inko admits, bending down to kiss Izuku’s forehead, “And for the longest time, I pushed all of the blame to him. It’s easier to blame someone who is gone, than to accept that I never tried to see his point of view, always expecting him to cater to my dreams and my wants.”

  Izuku buried his face in the fabric of her pants, because this story was beginning to sound a little familiar. The parts weren’t all the same. The people were definitely not the same. But the regret. The blame pushing. The lack of perspective. It was all sounding familiar to him. 

  “But you aren’t like me, are you, Izuku?” His mother cooed in a sad tone, “All of this time, I was terrified of you leaving me like he did, that I ended up being the one to drive you away.”

  “Mom,” Izuku sounded out, whimpering slightly, “You don’t have t-”

  “I do, baby,” Inko insisted in a plea, “I do. Because you deserve this. Because…” Her breath was getting raggedy, “Because I didn’t do my job well enough as a mother, that someone else had to teach you what it means to be angry, to be sad, to be human.”

  Izuku doesn’t say anything, just continues to bury his head in her lap. 

  “I never wanted you to be any of those things, because if you did, then I’m afraid it would mean you were unhappy with me. Unsatisfied with how we are. If you got angry, or sad, then maybe you’d want to leave too. If I raised you so that you were always happy, always smiling and taught to be grateful, then I thought that you wouldn’t feel the need to leave,” Inko admitted, sniffling in once, “I was a fool wasn’t I?”

  She continues, “To think that you were just 
  
    my
  
   son and no one else’s, to think that you were going to share my dreams, adopt my personality,” Inko laughed ironically to herself, “How could I think that, when Hisashi so clearly left his sense of adventure in you and his ambition. Your dreams of going to a good college outside of Ise. Your want to go do all kinds of exhilerating things. Deep down, I was scared of the day that a Bakugo Katsuki would come in and push you just enough to open up your dad’s side.”

  Izuku bit his lip, “It-It’s not all or nothing, Mom,” He says muffled, “I’m not just you. And I’m n-not just Dad. I’m my own person.”

  “I know,” Inko whispers, “I know now.”

  “A-And I can have both your kindness and value for family, while still loving adventure and exploration,” Izuku tells her, trying not to hiccup, “Just because I leave, doesn’t mean I’m not coming back. I’ll al-always come back to you, Mom.”

  Inko cries silently, and cracked a joke, “You better. I know you can’t live a whole year without having my katsudon.”

  Izuku cries too and nods his head, clutching the fabric of her pants tightly. 

  The mother takes a deep breath then, letting out a sound of relief, before she clears her throat and continues to speak, “You are not me. And Katsuki is not Hisashi.”

  Izuku suddenly wonders where Katsuki came from, even if he internally could connect the dots. 

  “Katsuki is a fine boy. Handsome, smart, athletic, and I know he has some deep rooted issues, but I can tell his heart acts before his head does,” Inko took a deep breath, “And he’s kind to you. And he cares deeply. But I’m sure you know that.”

  Izuku nods his head slowly from below. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear about Katsuki tonight. Not after what had happened at the Hideaway. But still, he listens. 

  “He does,” Izuku whispers. Katsuki cared a lot. 

  “Adventurous too. Always wanting to whisk you away to do something that looks like it’s from a movie,” Inko thinks back to all the pictures on her phone that she’s received from the blonde boy, “If it were me, I know I would never go along. I’m still too scared. But you aren’t like that, are you Izuku.” She says softly, knowing the answer, “You match that boy’s pace, and he matches yours.”

  The doe eyed boy can’t do this. This was hard. This was oh so hard, but his mother changes the conversation right then and says something completely unexpected. 

  “Two weeks ago when I went to the city to pick up supplies for an important client, I met up with your father,” Inko reveals to him. 

  And Izuku’s eyes open then, and out of shock, he attempts to move his head from her lap. But Inko keeps him still there, and Izuku realizes that she was likely about to say something that she doesn’t want him seeing her reacting to. His heart beat fast. So many years. So many years has past since he’s had any semblance of updated news from his father. He was stuck with memories from so long ago, that slipped from his grasp as time went on. He could barely remember what Hisashi looked like anymore unless he pulled out a VHS tape or looked through photo albums locked away in their attic. And to think that just two weeks ago, his mother met up with him in a city after 
  
    she
  
   hadn’t even seen him for nearly two decades, he couldn’t imagine how it went down. 

  “W-What do you mean?” Izuku asked, head laying on the side, eyes wide as he anticipated any news. 

  “Aunt Kita, she had told me the day before that Hisashi was going to be in the country in that specific city that week. Said she saw a post on his Facebook. I never lost his number, so in a moment of spontenuity, I called and we decided to meet up at a cafe,” Inko tried very hard to keep herself calm for Izuku. 

  “How was he?” Izuku asked quickly, “What is he like now? Is he doing alright? Did he talk about me at all? And what’s he-”

  “He’s married again,” Inko interrupts suddenly, her voice a bit more high pitched and breathless, “I saw pictures. She’s a sweet looking woman from Vietnam. And they have two kids together. A boy and a girl, named Homura and Ngoc. Both under thirteen years old.”

  Oh. Izuku hears this, and he doesn’t quite know how to feel. It was almost like hearing a stranger’s life update. His father got remarried, and now has a new family. Oh. Well, Izuku hoped that he was happy. 

  “He seems very happy with his new family,” Inko whispers, “And I think that part of him put in so much effort into this one, because of the guilt he felt about leaving us,” She brushed that aside, “But that’s just me wishfully thinking.”

  Izuku swallowed, asking his mother, “Does he live in Vietnam?”

  “No,” Inko shakes her head while she plays with Izuku’s hair, “They travel a lot. He’s one of the head architects for a company in Seoul, so he’s based there. But he travels around a lot to help with the company’s infrastructure expansion.” 

  Izuku’s lips quiver, but he replies, “That’s nice.”

  A bit of silence ensues before Inko moves forward.

  “He said he thinks of you a lot, but is too ashamed to ever contact you,” Inko sniffled, “I told him that we shouldn’t talk about what happened between us in the past, and I think...that I was trying to make it seem to him that I have everything together, since he looked like he did. So I told him that we’ve all moved past it.” 

  Izuku could hear his mother struggling to keep her talking straight. He squeezed her hand. 

  “And so we sat in that cafe and talked for 
  
    hours
  
  , Izuku,” His mother recounts with a whimsical sound to her words, “He was a busy man, and I had to go pick up some things, but two hours in, we both cleared our schedules for the day and decided to sit there until nighttime, just talking,” And then she laughs, “I think I ordered four chai lattes that day.” 

  “You should have tried something different from the menu every hour,” Izuku attempts to make a joke, but his voice comes out too quiet. 

  Either way, Inko laughed airily, “I should have, you’re right.”

  “What’d yall…” Izuku swallowed, “What’d yall talk about?”

  After a moment of silence, Inko answers with a lightness in his words, “Everything, Izuku,” She says, “We talked about everything. The good ole days. And then we exchanged stories from the present. He had a lot more to say than I did, that’s for sure,” She laughed again painfully, “And it was so nice, Izuku. The next time he’s in the country, we should all meet up again. See what your father is like.”

  Izuku isn’t sure how he felt about that, but he knew if the opportunity ever came, he’d be too curious not to come, and he asks Inko now, “What 
  
    is
  
   he like now?” 

  His occupation doesn’t really say much about his personality. 

  “What is he like?” Inko repeats, and her hands rest on Izuku’s shoulder, “He’s still handsome. I think that time has made him even more handsome. Time and experience. I could tell that he’s experienced a lot of beautiful things that he’s always dreamed of, just by looking into his eyes. It was those same eyes that I fell in love with, except now a bit older and a bit more wise.” She smiles briefly.

  “He’s still adventurous, but instead of falling out of trees, he likes to go mountain biking and sight seeing,” Inko recalls, “He told me that no matter where he goes and how world-class he becomes, he still has that Ise charm to him. The little Ise twang in his speech, and the need to stop and listen to the crickets everywhere he goes,” Inko lets out a chuckle.

  Izuku was quiet, taking this information in. 

  “He still makes me laugh, Izuku,” Inko sounded forlorn, before he hears her choke on her words a bit and say, “I sat there for just about 8 hours that day, talking to him in that cafe. It felt like three hours, at most. He made me laugh until I cried, and I managed to get him laughing and reminiscing too. After more than 15 years of not seeing this man, I thought that my heart would have scarred over by now.”

  And then she asks Izuku, “But you know what, Izuku?” She begins to cry, not loud but enough that he hears her jagged breath.

  Izuku waits for her to continue, as he clutches onto her pants leg. 

  “As I sat there till dark that day, and I listen to his stories, and laugh at his old jokes that he’s been saying since we were teens. And as I look back in his eyes and watch him smile,” Inko cries and puts her head down as well, “I feel so pathetic because I know that a part of me is still in love with him.”

  And as much as it hurts Inko, it hurts Izuku as well. To see his mother admit this, he felt that pain from within her radiate inside of him too, and he tries to put himself in his mother’s shoes. All this time, in the small ways, she’s never moved on, in the way she hid all of Hisashi’s memories, in the way she raised Izuku fearing that he’d leave in the same manner, in the way that his name was a forbidden word in their house. And she had to sit here, pretending to be okay, as she hears her ex-husband talk about his new life, with his new family and job, while memories of their high school and college days flash through her head, while images of Hisashi picking her up in a motorcycle and buying her dinner at some dingy diner on the outskirts of Ise get pulled to the surface. Izuku had been right. She was stuck in the past, and at no other moment was that more evident than right then in that cafe, realizing a part of her was still in love with this man who had left her and has clearly moved on. 

  “Mom,” Izuku wanted to reach out to her, wanted to get up, but his mother clearly didn’t want him to see, and she sounded like she wasn’t done. Inko took another deep breath, and calmed her crying so that she can talk seriously again. 

  “Izuku,” Inko tells him, “There’s a reason why I’m telling you this,” She insists, before hesitantly continuing, “You know what I kept asking myself when I left the cafe that night?” A pause. “I kept on asking myself, 
  
    what if
  
  .” And she sniffles as her voice breaks up and down, “What if I had taken his hand that one day long ago, when he asked me to join him up in that magnolia tree,” She laughs, “What if I had been brave enough to join him in the water when he’d dive into the ocean in early spring when it was still cold out. What if we had sat down and talked about our goals and came to a compromise, rather than fight each other for one solution.”

  She swallows, “What if, when we got married, I didn’t place my expectation on him to give up his dreams for mine, and he didn’t expect me to give up my dream for his? What if we both tried a little harder? Take a vacation here and there? He could get another degree in the city, and travel for work, and when he comes back home for a couple weeks at a time, we would still have been a happy family, wouldn’t we?” 

  Izuku curls up, and his own head is swirling with his own what if’s. 

  “I’m telling you this, Izuku, because,” Inko hugs him from her position then, tightly as if he was going off to Waseda tomorrow, “Because I don’t want you to ever have to ask ‘what if.’ I don’t want you to wonder what if I had let you go to Waseda? What if I had let you pursue your dreams and come visit once in a while with food and snacks from home? But above all that, I don’t want you to ever wonder any 
  
    what if’s
  
   when it comes to Katsuki.”

  Inko then gently pushes Izuku up, and the boy sits up then, tears stained face, and she cups his face in her hands while telling him with tears brimming in her own eyes, “You love this boy, right?”

  Izuku slowly nodded, “I do.”

  “Then don’t ever allow yourself to ask what if you had done this, what if he had said this,” Inko tells him, “You don’t want to end up like me, ‘Zuku. I’m a 45 year old woman, still in love with a man who left her 15 years ago. You don’t want to become me, Izuku. Sitting in a cafe across from Katsuki, 10 years down the road, wondering what could have been different.”

  Izuku shakes his head, “Mom, you don’t understand,” His voice quivered, “He doesn’t want to love me. And I can’t make him.”

  “Regardless of whether or not he wants to, Izuku, he does,” Inko shook her head, assuring her boy. 

  “You’re just saying that because you don’t believe someone won’t love me,” Izuku smiled at her, warmed by her thoughts, but it didn’t align with the truth. 

  “That’s true, but trust me Izuku, that boy is as in love with you as the sky is blue and as the grass is green. He just doesn’t know it yet, but his actions are much more telling than his words, I promise you that,” Inko wiped at his face. 

  “But words are important, too,” Izuku makes a case, “I can’t keep guessing at his actions, when his words tell me that he doesn’t love me, that we’ll only ever be just friends. What am I supposed to do? Tell him, ‘Kacchan, even though you say you don’t love me, you act like you do, and therefore, 
  
    I 
  
  am going to tell you how 
  
    you
  
   feel?’” Izuku wipes at his eyes before softly saying, “Mom, you can’t expect me to walk up to this man who tells me he doesn’t love me, and argue with him about his 
  
    own
  
   emotions and how he’s wrong. Who am I to tell him he’s wrong.”

  Izuku takes a breath, “Everyone likes to think in black and white, but that’s not how life is. It’s not nurture or nature. It’s not actions or words. It’s not always this or that. But it’s both, mom. It’s both. I…” He drops his head, “I can’t just have actions, actions that are negated by words that contradict and confuse me. I also need words. Words that he doesn’t plan on giving me.”

  Inko watches him with sad eyes, and her hands are still thumbing the saltwater off his cheeks. 

  “B-But that’s okay,” Izuku smiles up at her, “It’s okay, because I will move in. I need to.”

  “Izuku, baby,” Inko shakes her head, “You haven’t even tried to sit down and talk to ea-.”

  “Let’s leave,” The boy suddenly asks, bringing his shirt up to soak up his face, and then clutches his mother’s hand in both of his home. 

  “Huh?” Inko’s eyes widened at the random statement. 

  “Come with me. Tomorrow,” Izuku nods, “Let’s do something fun together, and we could go to some cool places. Come on, we can even leave tonight."

  “Izuku, you sound like your dad,” Inko laughs and wipes at her own face, “But I don’t know…”

  “And you wondered, right?” Izuku asked, eyes pleading, “What if you had taken his hand? Mom, you don’t have to wonder anymore. Take mine. I’ll show you.”

  Inko looked hesitant, and asked him, “Why so sudden? You're just trying not to talk about Ka-”

  “I just…” Izuku breathed in deeply, distress slightly in his face, “I just need to get away. And do something fun, just me and you. Lead my own adventure, you know? At some point, I have to stand up on my own two feet as well.”

  This was true, but even more so, a disguise for the fact that he needed to get out of Ise. F@ck, he needed to get out of Ise so badly. And his mother. There was still a lot to talk about. A lot to discuss. He was sure she still has a lot of her old bad habits, just like he still has a lot of his own. But they were trying. Look at them, they were trying. 

  “‘Zuku…I don’t know…” Inko looked apprehensive, “I’m not sure if I can.”

  Izuku shakes his head, “You can. It won’t be anything crazy, Mom. We can just go to the city, and have a little trip. Just me and you,” And his voice shakes as he says this, “Make up for lost time.”

  Inko looked at him for a while, eyes searching, a little nervous because she only travels occasionally for work, and it’s to the same stores or shops over and over again. The woman wasn’t keen on exploring, and the rate at which the world proceeded outside of Ise could be overwhelming for her slow life here in this small beach town. But seeing that look in Izuku’s eyes, of want, adventure, and desperation, she knew that it was now or never to open herself up more. 

  “Alright, let’s do it,” Inko replies. And to see her son’s face light up for the first time tonight was all worth it. 
 
  They drove four hours away, to a large metropolitan area, a city much bigger than any Izuku has ever been to, and his eyes widened upon seeing the skyline. His mother had actually let him drive, but she was pointing the directions and he just tried not to kill the both of them. As they entered the vicinity of the city, Izuku read the sign and recognized this place. Nagoya. 

  It was the place where the National Pole Vault Association was based in, and therefore, Nationals Qualifiers, Semi Finals, and Finals, were held here for the adult league. 

  The Youth Nationals was held about two hours away, so Izuku could go every year. But this one was in a league of its own. The city was huge, and Izuku couldn’t imagine what Tokyo would be like if Nagoya was this large. He doesn't know why his mother led them here, but there doesn't have to be a reason for everything. Seeing the big city, he immediately feels a bit of a draw back to Ise, but he knew that experiences like these were valuable, and that home was always there when he needs it, but time won’t be. 

  Inko books a hotel room that had a cute bed and breakfast theme to it, and Izuku nods to himself. They’re doing this. Yes, they’re doing this. 

  The mother and son duo ends up doing a lot that day. Went to a Noh theatre, ate at some unique restaurants, and visited the Nagoya castle or two other historical sites. And at the end of the day, Izuku convinced his mom to sneak up onto the rooftop of some building, and watch the world move around them. And they stay up there for a long time, Izuku temporarily distracted and happy in this moment. 

  “Can I miss school tomorrow?” Izuku asked her softly. 

  Inko looked over at him, “Miss school? Why?”

  Izuku looked down at his lap, “I...I think I need one more day until I can face him. I think if I saw him tomorrow, I’d just break down all over again.”

  Inko thinks about it, hesitant, before pursing her lips and nodding, “Okay.”

  “Besides, it’ll keep you from waking up super early tomorrow morning to drive me back in time for school,” Izuku gently elbowed her with a smile. 

  “That’s true, I suppose,” Inko smiled. 

  “Plus, I need to get started on the analysis paper,” Izuku took in a deep breath, feeling a jolt of pain in his chest at the thought of it. 

  “The analysis paper,” Inko looked up towards the sky. They couldn’t see the stars here in the city, only airplanes passing through the night sky. Nothing like the milky way that could be seen in Ise, “Oh ‘Zuku, what are you going to write for that?”

  Izuku pursed his lips and sighed, “The truth. I'm a senior, it barely matters."

  And that’s all he manages to say about it. It was obvious what to write about considering the prompt of the project. B
  eing around Katsuki constantly this past semester had completely changed his life. Had turned him into a more confident, more stable, and more free person all around. It had introduced him to how beautiful and exhilarating the world can be. He’ll write about that for sure, and give appreciation towards Katsuki where it was due. But how was he going to tell Mr. Toshinori that somewhere along the way, he had fallen in love? Was he going to tell him at all? Izuku doesn’t know. 

  The next day was also fun. He spent the first half of it with his mother, dragging her through the fountain that sprayed up from the ground in the city and then inside of an interactive light museum that displayed all sorts of visual affects. And the other half of the day, he spent in the car staring at blank pieces of paper as they returned to Ise. It had been fun, and Izuku valued this time a lot, but it was time to head back to this small town, where his heartbreak was waiting for him to return. 

  When he saw Katsuki again the next day in class, Izuku had to use every single nerve in his body to keep his appearance normal. Every 
  
    single
  
   one. They had to turn in their homework sheets for physics, and had walked up at the same time, and the moment he sees the tall blonde, as handsome and rugged as he always was, Izuku wanted to immediately freeze up and break down. Every single flashback from two nights ago came rushing in at once, and he doesn’t know how he is going to stand in Katsuki’s presence at any point and not want to crumble to the ground. 

  But he forces himself to. Dropping the paper in the bin, Izuku caught his eye, those beautiful red eyes, lifted his lips in a tiny smile and nodded. He didn’t know why he bothered trying to act calm. Katsuki could probably tell through all of his b@llsh@t. Of course he wasn’t okay. He confessed his undying love just two days ago and that ended with tears and heartache, why would he be okay after two days? He probably looked like a fool trying to hide it. But as Izuku goes to sit down in his seat, he wonders if Katsuki was okay. Because for a split second there, when they made eye contact, the blonde’s solemn expression wasn’t too different from his own. 
 
  The day passes by too slowly. Way too slowly, and Izuku throws himself into work. The annual fundraiser was literally the next day, and he knew he had been slacking. Too caught up in the drama of his own life, Izuku feels bad for not being as active as he should with a fundraiser that means fo much for the community. He remembered when he was a kid, Inko would take him to the Annual Fundraiser hosted by Ise High, and how special that night was for him every year. He’d go home having learned new crafts, with his face painted with Ise High’s mascot, the Shark, which made sense considering they were in a beachtown, and a tummy full of food and soda. And now that he was on the committee that was planning and organizing it, there’s this sense of responsibility Izuku feels to make it as magical for kids in the community now as it had been for him. 

  And it turned out extremely well. Every year, they get more and more people, and Izuku works himself crazy running around all day trying to get everything in order. He sees Katsuki doing the same, and for a moment, makes himself set aside their personal issues to focus on the event at hand. And it turns out incredible. The show out was good. The food all came on time. The games were well equipped, and everyone seemed to be having fun, whether they worked the booth or visited the booths. A couple of times, Izuku was called to sort out some issues, but even that didn’t happen too often. Keeping himself busy like this was a good idea. 

  And then, the mirror maze happened. And my god, Izuku couldn’t have imagined that he’d end his night like this, riding home in Iida’s car after crying once more, because of a conversation inside of a 
  
    mirror maze
  
   with Bakugo Katsuki. He had slipped past Kaito who was stationed at the front, and wanted to check the Monkey Maze out. The routes changed every year, and Izuku, who loved puzzles, always had a fun time trying to figure out the maze. He expected that it’ll be difficult. He didn’t expect, however, for it to be difficult not because the maze itself was just hard, but because that conversation was hard. 

  And now, as Izuku steps out of Iida’s car, thanks him, and heads inside, the boy paces the bedroom floor trying to console himself. He holds his own arms, and walks back and forth on the carpet, with the lights off in his room aside from the windows. His mother should be asleep at this time, considering she slept pretty early, but he wasn’t going to talk to her about this anyways. None of it was new information. 

  But he just made an ultimatum with Katsuki. He was going to get over the blonde. And this wasn’t out of spite, or hurt, or anger. No. None of that at all, because Izuku could say without a doubt right now, that he adores that boy to no end, even now. He was going to get over Katsuki because it’s what both he and Katsuki deserved. 

  He deserved a love that was returned, didn’t he? And he didn’t blame Katsuki in the slightest for not being able to give it to him. Because who would he be to force a love that isn’t there? Or isn’t wanted? That wasn’t Katsuki’s fault in the slightest, and Izuku knew that no one was obligated to love anyone. And Izuku was going to move on, because he deserved to, even if he didn't actually think he was ready to. 

  And Katsuki deserved it too. His love was a gift, but to someone who never asked for it, Izuku could see how it could be a burden. And knowing the blonde, Izuku could tell that the boy cared deeply for him, even if it was as some twisted version of a friend. And so, that night at the Hideaway, hearing that Izuku had fallen in love with him, probably made the athlete feel guilty in some ways, pained in some ways, and worried. Izuku didn’t want Katsuki to live with that burden, and so he was going to get over the other. 

  Izuku keeps pacing, and then his eyes catch movement outside on the window sill, and his heart rate increases exponentially. His first thought, his first hope, his first desire is that it’s Katsuki, there to finally tell him what came after all of those “Wait”s that were met with silence. And oh how he wanted so badly for it to be Katsuki, despite having promised the both of them that he’ll be better. But what was dangerous is the fact that when it turns out to just be the slightly overgrown branch of the tree hitting up against the tiles of his house, his disappointment radiated through the room. 
  
    That
  
   was dangerous, because although he made his ultimatum, his heart was still hopeful. 

  Izuku goes downstairs and into the garage, turning the light on and grabbing a saw with a shaky hand. Then, the boy goes outside at this time of night and climbs the tree, keeping the saw’s sharp side turned away from him. The climbs the tree that brought back so many memories of late night sneaking out, until he is near the branch that led across to his bedroom. 

  And once the boy finds a good spot to sit, he begins to saw the branch off, all while trying not to cry again. It was a thick branch, thick enough to hold his weight and Katsuki’s weight combined and some change, so this was going to take a while. But he needed to do this, or else, he’ll sit in his room every night, doing homework or watching TV, forever anticipating the sound of knocking on his window. Izuku sits up there and saws the branch until he could see a pile of dust on the ground far beneath him. And when he gets to the last few saws until the branch breaks off under its own weight, Izuku stopped for just a moment to lean down and kiss the tree, thanking it for the memories it helped bring to life, before cracking it down in two more saws. The thick branch falls the height of the first story and lands with a loud thud, but no louder than if a car were to be riding down his street with the music up. Izuku tosses the saw down, and it lands on the grass, before he slowly climbs down himself. At the bottom, looking up, the boy finds that it looks so barren. So empty. But this way, he knew that he would no longer fantasize. No one could make that jump.
 
  Izuku attempts to avoid Katsuki all the way right up to when the last day of the semester ends, which was just that Friday. He drove himself to school, a privilege his mother finally granted him, and he drove himself home. This was how it should have been, had his mother been less strict with him when he was 16, but late was better than never. That being said, he missed his routine. The walk home through Ise, the few minutes outside of the fence or inside of it meant to watch Katsuki fly, he misses it like nothing else in the world. They shared two classes together. In physics, Izuku makes sure to arrive one minute late, and to leave one minute early. Because if he lets himself talk to Katsuki, he knew his resolve was over. And with that in mind, the oddest thing was that it seemed as if Katsuki 
  
    really
  
   wanted to talk to him. The blonde’s walk would get a little faster if he was in the vicinity, and there always seems to be words playing on his lips. 

  Katsuki’s been practicing harder than ever, he’s heard. Izuku hopes that these days, Katsuki brings enough drinks to practice so that he stays hydrated, and that he doesn’t overwork himself. 

  The Nationals Qualifiers were right around the corner, just at the start of Summer break on a Friday afternoon, and almost every minute of free time he had, Izuku’s heard that the blonde had been using it to practice. 

  Keyword is 
  
    almost
  
   every minute. 
 
  Izuku was confused the first time he heard it. It was two days after he had decided to cut the tree branch, and the boy was sitting in his room, the last part of his calculus final project coming together and due tomorrow, the literal last day of the semester. Izuku was about to glue the very final component on, when the sound of something thumping distracted him. It wasn’t directly outside of his window, but somewhere below. 

  Taking out his headphones, Izuku slowly got up out of his seat and walked to his window, only moving the curtain to the side a little bit so that he could see just enough, and his heart begins to race and he blinks multiple times, trying to see if he was imagining this. Because what he was seeing was almost ridiculous. 

  Bakugo Katsuki’s car was parked on his driveway, and the blonde had a shovel in his hand, and was wacking at the ground of his front yard. Izuku’s jaw dropped. What the 
  
    fuck
  
  . He couldn’t even be sad at the sight of Katsuki, not when he was this confused. The blonde was digging up a storm, a little hole in the ground, and it causes such a ruckus that he hears his front door open. 

  Inko walks out in a hurry, eyes wide. And for a second there, Izuku fears for Katsuki’s life, as his mother takes her gardening and yard work 
  
    very
  
   seriously, and this boy here is now just hacking away at her grass like no tomorrow. 

  “Katsuki!” Inko screeched, “What are you doing! What are yo-” She sputters, “What are you doing!”

  Katsuki wipes sweat from his brow, “I want to see him.”

  Izuku’s eyes widened, and he steps back to put a hand on his beating heart. Katsuki wants to see him. That flutter of hope arose in his chest, and he could barely breath. 

  “And say what!” Inko looked at her poor dirt and grass.

  Katsuki scratched the back of his head and looked frustrated, “I-I don’t know,” He admitted with an irritated tone, “I don’t f@ck@ng know, I just want to see him.”

  Oh, Izuku thought, so there was nothing that Katsuki had to really say. Izuku had to wonder why the blonde wanted to see him so badly after everything. Did he not understand? Did he not understand how much it hurts to be near him? Did Katsuki simply forget everything? If the athlete had nothing to say, then Izuku doesn’t understand why he was making it so hard for Izuku to just get over him. Still, the blonde’s actions sparked curiosity. 

  Inko sighed then and looked solemn herself, “He told me not to let you in.”

  “I figured,” Katsuki said before whacking the ground again, “Which is why I’m doing this,” He said before shoving more dirt up.

  “No!” Inko made a grab for his shovel and pushes Katsuki to the side, although she was much shorter and smaller than him, “Why are you digging a hole into my yard!” 

  “I need to do it, ya damn crone! Give me my f@ck@ng shovel back,” Katsuki makes a move for it. 

  But Inko takes the shovel and proceeds to whack him with it, not hard enough to cause any real damage, and she does it repeatedly until the boy was shielding himself, “No, no! Stay away from my lawn.”

  “Goddamnit,” Katsuki curses, before leaving his shovel and getting in his car, driving away. 

  The entire interaction confused the hell out of Izuku, and when he ate dinner with his mother that night, she was honestly at a loss too. 

  But it happens again the very next day, except this time around, Katsuki was quieter. He has a new shovel now, with the tag still on it, and he digs up the dirt slowly, until there is a trapezoidal shape in the middle of Izuku’s front lawn. The green eyed boy had been staring wide eyed through the curtains, and it is just when Katsuki moves away and unblocks his view that he saw that it was a declined trapezoidal dent in the ground. And 
  
    oh
  
  , Izuku knows what that is. He’s been watching for way too long and way too closely to not know what that is. 

  It’s a pole vault box. Dug into the dirt, and packed tightly on the sides. A very...DIY one, but the shape was very evidently there. Izuku’s lips parted, as he watched Katsuki wipe sweat from his brow and go back into his car, before going to his car. And Izuku hadn’t even noticed because the car is black, that strapped on top of the vehicle was a pole bag. A vault pole was usually way too long to fit within a car, so there were specially designed bags that get strapped to the roof where vaulters put their equipment in. 

  Katsuki goes over, and unzips the black tubing case, before sliding out a 16 ft pole. His roof was 13 feet, so that was cutting it 
  
    close
  
  . Izuku was in shock. 

  The blonde must have gotten back from a long practice, for there was still tape around his hands, and Katsuki takes the pole, and gauges his position. And when he figures he had found the right one, Izuku sees him get into stance and then begin running. A small sprint, and then a run, before the athlete sticks the pole within the DIY vault box and launches himself up into the air. Izuku’s hand reach into his pockets in case he needed to call an ambulance, but there was no need. 

  There was a very graceful manner in which Katsuki landed, twisting his body mid flight so that his back bent and he could land on his feet on the edge of the tiles leading right next to Izuku’s room, and there was only minimal noise. Unlike actual vault, Katsuki holds onto his pole, which Izuku assumes is how the blonde planned on getting down. Using the pole to slow his momentum as he jumps off. 

  And then, Katsuki stood there looking proud of himself for a moment, before coming towards his window. Izuku backed off, face still full of shock, and he sits on the floor, back crouching beside the window. After a moment, he hears Katsuki sit down too, right outside the window, and catch his breath for two minutes or so. 

  “It’s a miracle I didn’t f@ck@ng get whacked by your mom today,” Katsuki says softly, and Izuku could hear him through the windows aside from a slight muffle. 

  Izuku pulls his knees up to his chest, and places his chin there as he listens, unsure of whether to tear up or to smile. 

  The athlete sighs, “Going this far just to talk to you makes me feel like a yandere. I can’t believe your nerd ass managed to watch me all these years without feeling like a creep, geez.”

  Izuku then leans his head back towards the wall, eyes looking up to where he sees Katsuki’s shadow leaning with his back against the window as well. Why was he doing this? 

  “Today, I had breakfast with the hag and uh...dad,” Katsuki recounts to him, “And it ain’t that bad. Me and the hag are going shopping tomorrow to pick out some new sh@t for the pre-tournament banquet. And dad’s gonna go fishing with me the weekend after qualifiers. I’m gonna outfish him for sure.”

  Izuku smiles sadly at this, and is internally so happy that Katsuki was spending time with his family. 

  “And listen to this crazy sh@t, Deku. F@ck Face gave me an invite to his birthday dinner this year. This is probably the first time I’ve been invited, even though the whole damn team always is,” Katsuki chuckled, “I ain’t gonna go. Because I have a dentist appointment that day, but I’m not gonna tell him that. I’m just gonna let him think it’s because I hate him, which is true. He’s an @ssh@l@ with a f@ck@d up idea of relationships, but that’s just how he is.”

  At the mention of Kaito, Izuku pursed his lips and looked down. They still haven’t talked since the day he dropped Izuku off. But even Izuku was surprised the other day in the cafeteria when Kaito had indirectly stood up for Katsuki. 
“Listen, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but,” He could hear Katsuki swallow, “I’m asking for just one more time.” 
  One more time to do what? Izuku thought. 

  “See me one more time,” Katsuki asks him quietly, “I’m...I’m not exactly sure how to say what I want to say, but I can figure it out when I get there. I just need to see you, nerd.”

  No, that isn’t fair. Izuku frowns sadly. Katsuki doesn’t know what to say, yet he wanted Izuku to go suffer one more time? For what? Izuku wanted to know. For what? 

  “I can’t stop thinking about you, Izuku,” Katsuki whispered through the window and Izuku barely catches it, “Am I allowed to say that?” 

  No, 
  
    No he isn’t
  
  . Izuku thinks to himself. How could he say something like that, and made Izuku long for him even more. 

  “That’s about the only thing I think I’m able to say right now. Everything else is still kind of new and terrifying to me, but I’ll get there,” Katsuki was speaking in cryptic tongues, and Izuku didn’t understand what he meant by 
  
    everything else
  
  , “I’ll get there.”

  Izuku holds his breath, and lets it out slowly, listening to Katsuki simultaneously.

  "You there?” Katsuki’s shadow turned it’s head, and waited. Izuku doesn’t say anything, so the blonde turns back around and then gets up, “Take care of yourself, Deku.”

  And as he hears Katsuki leave, pole aligning with the box, and then bending so that Katsuki could lower himself with slowered momentum, Izuku finally replies in a whisper, “You too, Kacchan.”

  Except it wasn’t just that evening. It was the evening after that, for a couple of minutes, Katsuki stopped by to vault right up to his window, and say a couple of words, a little update before leaving. And this happens the evening after too. Sometimes, Izuku was there, listening in quietly, wondering why this boy wants to see him so badly considering everything. Sometimes, Izuku wasn’t in his room. He still knew Katsuki came by though by the displacement of the roof tiles when he would come back to his room later. 

  Summer break starts, and Katsuki’s visit get shorter and shorter as Nationals get closer and closer, as in 3 days close. And when the blonde boy comes to say a couple of words, Izuku could hear the slight stress and anxiety in his voice. 

  3 days till. 

  “Today was my signing day,” Katsuki tells him through the window, while munching on what sounded like an apple, “Which means it’s now public information that I’m going to Keio. The university is already wanting to do some promotional material. But they’re holding back until after the National Qualifiers. I think they’re going to gauge how well I do before they plaster me in their campus magazine,” Katsuki snorts. 

  Izuku sits there, fidgeting with his hands. National Qualifiers. He shouldn’t go. And more so, he can’t because his mother needed him to help out with some things that day. But he’ll be watching on TV for sure. 

  “It’s in 3 days, ‘Zuku,” Katsuki says, “I’m f@ck@ng psyched out. Coach Shugo tells me to stop trying to aim higher and to keep practicing at the height I got, but I feel like I can’t.” 

  Izuku wonders to what height Katsuki has managed to get up to now. 

  “Anyways,” The boy says, “I gotta go. Sh@t’s getting busy. By the way, your neighbor just walked by. She probably thinks I’m insane.”
 
  2 days till. 

  Katsuki doesn’t come at all today, and that was fine. Izuku was still nursing a heartbreak, and if Katsuki didn’t show up with his sweet daily recaps every day, it would probably be better for his still fragile heart. Izuku doesn’t have anything planned for the break yet, but it’s okay if he didn’t. He spent this past semester doing so many things, that taking this time now to rest is a good idea. The grades were submitted, and Mr. Toshinori had left comments on his final paper, but he hadn’t read them yet. He wasn’t sure exactly when he planned to.

  His mother has definitely noticed the trapezoid shaped hole in her front yard, but has yet to say anything, because Izuku hadn’t mentioned anything. The situation with his mother was better, and that was a good news that Izuku really needed. After a long time of awkward exchanges, getting back into a close relationship with the woman was so needed. His mother must have gone through a period of deep reflection during the time they fell apart, because Izuku could tell, she was actively trying to not be as overbearing. 

  That being said, they were both only human. And there were still moments where Inko would say something that can perceived as manipulative or guilt-tripping, but Izuku makes sure to stand his ground and call her out of that. And instead of arguing and perpetuating the issue further, the woman seems to retrospectively realize she was doing it out of habit, and would try again next time. And there were moments where her overprotectiveness was still quite strong, but they’re working on it so that her concerns come out more like suggestions, rather than oppressive demands. Over all, when it came to his mother, he was happy. Happy that even though it wasn’t perfect, he had her again. 
 
  1 day till. 

  Katsuki 
  
    does
  
   come today, and it’s while Izuku was folding his laundry on the floor. He could hear the car pulling up, and then the pole hit the makeshift vault box. Through the curtains, he faintly sees Katsuki’s silhouette, as the blonde crouches down for a moment. And just sits there, looking out on the neighborhood. And Izuku wonders if the boy will say anything at all. Outside, the Ise sunset washed over the sky, and Izuku could probably never begin to count how many of those beautiful skies he got to see with Katsuki. Outside, he can hear the cicadas ring even though it wasn’t even nighttime yet. 

  Finally, after a while, the athlete speaks up and just says a couple of words. 

  “It’s tomorrow at 4:00PM. I’m leaving tonight and sleeping in Nagoya,” Katsuki says before taking a deep breath as if trying to calm his nerves.

  A minute or two more of silence, and then, “You promised, right? I’ll see you there.”

  Izuku looked up from his laundry with sad eyes at the figure sitting outside of his window sill, knowing he wasn’t going to be there. Katsuki doesn’t say another word for the next couple of minutes, before the blonde lets out a small sigh and then takes his leave. And Izuku felt bad. Yes, he was in pain. Yes, he needed to keep his distance and understand what was good and what was bad for him. 

  But there was no harm in wishing the blonde good luck. Not when it was obvious by his demeanor that Katsuki wanted to hear it so badly. And sounded nervous for the tournament. Izuku would feel horrible, if he were to just sit here, and say nothing this one time. He promises, after this, he’ll be good. 

  Standing up quickly before Katsuki leaves, Izuku runs towards the window and opens it, pushing the curtain aside. Outside, the breeze immediately rushes in, and Izuku’s vision is flooded with a mesmerizing pink as the Ise sunset never fails to impress. The crows perched on top of the telephone towers hopped around, and the crickets were already singing its song. Katsuki’s black car stood parked on the side of the road. And in front of him, standing on the sloped tiles, pole in hand, the object of his love and adoration. 

  Katsuki was in his vault uniform, probably just having come back from practice, and stood tall. Izuku didn’t know how euphoric seeing him would feel like until he opens the windows, and could see the man that he loved so dearly in the flesh. But he knew what he opened it for. Katsuki had turned around at the sound, and looked shocked that Izuku had opened the window. If Izuku looked closely, he could see small stress lines near the blonde’s forehead and rougher calluses on his hands. 

  Looking up at the athlete, Izuku tells Katsuki, “Good luck, Kacchan.”

  Izuku should back up now, close the window. But he was caught in those eyes, and Katsuki didn’t want to look away either. Katsuki looked deep into him as if he was seeing Izuku for the first time, and the boy felt self conscious under that intense gaze. After about twenty seconds passed, Izuku was about to stick his head back inside and close the window, but before he could do that, Katsuki moved. 

  Swiveling just one leg forward, Katsuki bent down towards the window, and with one hand, tilted Izuku’s chin up just as his head leaned in to place just one deep kiss on Izuku’s lips, so sweet and tender it reels Izuku, and the doe eyed boy was stunned. 

  Stepping back, Katsuki tells him, “Tell me in person tomorrow.” 

  Before he left.



0 Days Till. 
  The Paloma Mizuho Stadium sat in the Mizuho Ward of Nagoya, with a capacity of 27,000 people during high profile events like major international-level track and field events or concerts. It was hot outside, with the coming summer heat, and the drinks concession had a long line that stretched around the corner. People with visors and jerseys sat up in the stands, pumped for the tournament to come. Dozens and dozens of tents surrounded the field, each with a different sector of the Nationals competitors. Large speakers were being rolled out onto the equipment area of the stadium as tournament preparations were being made last minute. The energy was outstanding. For a national-level event, the average attendance is about 6000 people. Pole vault is a small sport. That being said, the numbers on this fine Friday afternoon were high.

  In fact, 4,319 people filled up the stadium that day. 

  Amongst that number, none of them were Midoriya Izuku. 





  
  

    
      
        
        
          hello! I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the love, guys. I am floored by how supportive everyone is of the fic, and i can only hope the last (?) chapter does them justice (don't be scared of the last chapter).twt: suffocatingspr1i'll answer 2 FAQ really quick!yes, you'll see their final analysisyes, i forgot an angst w/ happy ending tagbonus: yes, i know them going around in circles is frustrating haha next chapter coming out same day next week, unless i die. UPDATE : Never mind. My parents decided to do a surprised visit up to my university so it won’t come out Tuesday unless Im drugged w some performance enhancer'
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