Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sometimes, everything felt like it was under water.

Not in the calm, serene sense like in the movies. Not in the drifting, silence of the tide pulling you out to see. Not even in the cool, soothing way the ocean took over your body and let you float.

It wasn’t anything like that at all.

Instead, it really felt like Katsuki was drowning.

Emiko was fucking dead, which alone felt like rocks were put in his shoes and pulled him to the bottom of the ocean despite how hard he fought each wave.

To add to it, he had Natsumi now. He had a whole ass child to look after now. A baby girl who was so entirely in love with her mom just six months ago. How could he ever measure up to Emiko? How could he ever be enough for a little girl?

He hardly knew how to take care of her at all. Katsuki was thrown into this completely blind, entirely useless in parenting, and somehow everyone just expected him to snap back. They expected him to be amazing.

Emiko needed him to be amazing for her child. But he fucking wasn’t. He wasn’t good at this at all.

He wasn’t willingly walked into this. He was pushed into it. His feet couldn’t touch the bottom, he couldn’t get a feel for the waves of emotion that assaulted both him and Natsumi, and left them both fighting for some sort of stability under the ocean current.

That’s what this was. Katsuki was fucking drowning. In a sea of grief, fear, inexperience and utter heat break.

Today had been fucking awful in other words.

He’d dropped Natsumi off at daycare perfectly fine. She ran in, pigtails jumping with each step, pretty pink overalls clipped to perfection. Her teeth were brushed, her charms were clipped to her backpack just the way she wanted.

She seemed okay.

But about forty minutes into his hour and a half drive to the office, he got a call from the daycare saying she was inconsolable. Something about a show with a mother, a trigger that they hadn’t thought about when they’d initially turned it on.

So here he was now, holding his screaming two year old, in his work clothes, with a briefcase dangling dangerously in two fingers, a backpack in another, a coffee cup barely held by his arm against his ribs.

And they were drowning.

He tried to soothe her at the daycare. Tried to sway her back and forth, whisper sweet I love you’d in her ear as she screamed for her mama. When that didn’t work, he took her to the car, gave her a snack, held her in his lap and continued to hug her close.

When that didn’t work, he went home. Katsuki called into work for the millionth time since Emiko’s passing and received his umpteenth reprimand for his unusual behavior lately.

He carried his crying daughter through the halls, trying his best to sway her, to rock her into a nap, or perhaps sooth her with a steady rhythm. She used to like that. It used to be the only way Emiko got her to sleep.

But it’s not working, and she’s sobbing for mama, mama, mama, and Katsuki drowning deeper, deeper, deeper.

Her sobs are so loud they echo off the walls in the early morning. They make his ears ring, make his heart tear into tiny pieces of weeping flesh, make his eyes sting and his headache.

He needed help. He needed Emiko. Katsuki needed someone, anyone to see. To notice that he was fucking drowning.

As he fucked around in his pocket, reaching for his keys which had somehow vanished during the walk from the car to the front door, Natsumi yanked, pulled, kicked at him. She did anything to get his attention, anything to try and make him bring her mother back.

A door creaked open behind him, but Katsuki hardly heard it with the way Natsumi cried and screamed.

“Is everything okay?” Eijirou was at his side in seconds.

Katsuki cringed. He couldn’t deal with this right now.

They were in a weird, awkward space of not really friends but also not /not/ friends? Katsuki wasn’t sure. He was too busy grieving, and raising a child, and trying to fucking survive.

He’d hardly had time to process the apology. The one thing he’d always wished to hear from the other man after all these years. Learning that their lack of communication was the thing that tore them apart made Katsuki sick to his stomach, so lately he’d just been pushing the thoughts down and praying Eijirou didn’t ask for more of his already strained mental state.

“Yes, everything is fine. Sorry if it’s loud,” he shoved the key into the door aggressively, only to find out it was the wrong fucking one and he was still trapped in this shitty situation.

He felt bad. He wanted to talk to Eijirou. In fact, if you’d have told him seven months ago he’d reconciled with his ex after four years, Katsuki might’ve been ecstatic.

But things were different now.

Katsuki was different now.

His brain had morphed from a twenty four year old single man, to a father. His priority was Natsumi, not his ex boyfriend.

“No it’s okay, I was just worried,” eijirou shook his head as he gave the little girl a sympathetic look.

Katsuki was still mad, don’t get him wrong.

But he knew he wasn’t entirely innocent. He knew now that his lack of thought for Eijirou had truly hurt the other man. He should’ve been more available when they were still together. He should’ve been honest about what he was working for.

They should’ve communicated like the barely legal adults they were.

“Mama,” Natsumi cried as she yanked at the hair on the back of Katsuki’s head. “Where’s Mama?”

Katsuki didn’t try to yank it free, because he knew deep down that she didn’t know how to grieve. He knew that this was Natsumi trying to process, trying to get all of this heartbreak and frustration out when she was too young to emotionally regulate.

It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t grateful when Eijirou gently pried those chubby little fingers out of Katsuki’s hair.

He pushed the correct key into the door and shoved it open, dropping his things haphazardly at the front door as he patted the little girls back. He didn’t forget to notice Eijirou walking in quietly, and moving his things into a more orderly spot for the time being.

It sent a strange feeling of guilt and fear to Katsuki’s heart. Eijirou didn’t have to deal with this. Just because Katsuki was drowning didn’t mean the other man had to help him. They broke up, they hated each other. Now they’ve apologized and made up.

Things should end there.

Even though Katsuki doesn’t want them to, it’s probably for the best.

Because everything was different now.

“Mama had to go away, remember Natsumi? She loved you very much, but she had to go away,” he croaked.

It’s one thing to soothe a crying child. It’s stressful, unpredictable, and honestly a little scary.

But having to say your sister was dead and she was never returning to her daughter was fucking excruciating.

Natsumi stared at him with big eyes then. Her big, rounded eyes are just like Emiko’s. They immediately filled with more tears, and her bottom lip jutted out in a terribly painful pout.

Like Katsuki had done it. Like Katsuki was the one who took her away.

“That’s sad,” she cried, pressing her chubby little hands to her eyes.

Sad, because she’s two years old. Sad because she hadn’t learned any new words to describe a pain as dreadful as grief. She’s two fucking years old and she’d already lost her only mother.

Katsuki swallowed, biting back his own emotions as he validated the young girl in his arms.

“It’s very sad. It’s okay if you’re very sad.”

And she nodded her head slowly, heart probably breaking in ways she could hardly understand.

“I am,” she cried again.

And then Katsuki was drowning again. The water got deeper, he’d lost his footing in the sand below, he’d been punched in the guts and yanked down by the waves and the undertow.

He’s drowning, and the one person who could save him was dead. Katsuki was all alone, gasping for air, begging for anything to protect him, to help him.

“Here, come here,” Eijirou’s big hands were soon on both of his arms. Honestly he’d forgotten the redhead was still here.

But the touch felt nice. Familiar. Warm in a way he hadn’t felt in four years.

He guided Katsuki as he held his grieving child, ignoring the wailing in his ears as they shuffled into the living room.

Eijirou sat him down on the couch quickly, eyes filled with so much concern, so much care that Katsuki forced himself to look away.

The redhead was still in his pajamas, likely having been woken up by Natsumi’s crying in the hallway. His hair was still a mess, and he ran his fingers through it as he grabbed the remote and clicked through the channels of the television.

When he stopped on a specific channel— the one that always streamed those nature documentaries— he joined them back on the couch.

He grabbed a blanket and draped it over Natsumi, who was still screaming, crying and kicking at Katsuki as she desperately searched for Emiko.

“Hey Little One, look over there,” Eijirou said softly, grabbing her little arms and haunting their assault on Katsuki.

And she did stop. She stopped almost as soon as her eyes hit the television, and a large jellyfish appeared on the screen. A man was speaking in a deep soothing voice, something about bioluminescence and the deep sea.

The jellyfish moved slowly, just barely, being pushed through the sea by every single wave it was met with.

Natsumi quieted as she watched, perplexed by the sea creature. Soon Eijirou let go of her little arms, and instead of going back to pulling at Katsuki’s shirt, they curl up to Katsuki’s chest. She leaned her body against him, still craning her neck to watch the jellyfish on the screen.

“What’s that?” She asked. Her voice was frail and stuffy from crying. Her breathing came out in stuttered pants as she curled up to Katsuki.

Katsuki felt himself take a breath as he too stared at the stupid jellyfish.

Not quite swimming, not quite drowning.

Just floating. Just existing. Trying its best given its circumstances.

“It’s a jellyfish,” he swallowed, trying his best to hide the pain in his own voice.

Perhaps existing was all he could really do right now.

He was no mother, obviously. He was no parent at all. He couldn’t calm the storm of a two year olds grief, couldn’t figure out how to get her to bed. It took him months to figure out how to braid hair, and even longer to teach himself how to talk to a fucking two year old.

But that’s because he was never given the skills for that. He wasn’t born with the parts to mother a child, he wasn’t experienced in living with a baby.

He was still here. Still in this fucking ocean, this drowning sea of total despair. But he was learning. Slowly but surely, he was learning how to float through all of this.

Not quite swimming, not quite drowning, just floating through each sharp wave and swift change in direction.

Somehow, as the jellyfish on the screen mesmerized Natsumi, she drifted off to sleep. She hadn’t slept well the night before, so Katsuki hoped this nap would last a good few hours.

“Thank you,” he said, filling the quiet early morning air.

Eijirou hadn’t said anything at all. Instead he sat there, weight leaned against Katsuki as he watched the little girl in his arms breathe.

It’s good that he was here, Katsuki decided.

Because despite everything. Despite the fact that Eijirou left him, despite the fact that Katsuki neglected their relationship, Eijirou was still a sturdy pillar in his world.

In fact, right now he was the only one in his life stubborn enough to check on him.

His parents had of course pestered him, practically begged him to live at their house for the next year. Deku had done his best to check in as well, though he was grieving Emiko’s loss as well and his tears often made it hard for Katsuki to be near him.

But Eijirou was always sturdy. Always reliable, always someone he could depend on.

Until he left. Katsuki thought that maybe he’d taken advantage of that, when he’d chosen work over his boyfriend. He’d focused all of his energy on a job that would get him where they needed to be and neglected the one reason he ever wanted to move to the city.

When he thought about it— about the twenty year old versions of themselves— Katsuki could see it.

He can see the way Eijirou’s smile began to fade, could remember the way the other man waited and waited for him to return home only to be ignored for sleep due to Katsuki’s exhaustion. He remembered being so caught up on emails to send and meetings to attend that Katsuki forgot to take Eijirou out on dates and show him he truly mattered

Katsuki could see his shortcomings, now that they’d been pointed out to them.

And he hated everything and everyone for not telling him sooner. He hated himself for doing it and hated Eijirou for not telling him how he felt. If he’d have known, maybe he could’ve fixed this. Maybe Natsumi would’ve had two dads instead of one.

Maybe Katsuki wouldn’t feel so empty and numb.

“Are you okay,” the redhead asked after a moment of silence.

It was early. The rest of the town was probably only just now waking up. The birds outside sang, completely oblivious to the total detonation they’d both just experienced.

Katsuki shrugged his shoulders, “This happens on and off. Child grief is a lot different than adults. She doesn’t really know what it means to be dead, so when she misses Emiko and I can’t bring her back, she gets frustrated.”

He swallowed thickly, still staring at the television as it switched from a beautiful string like jellyfish, to a much fatter oblong shaped one.

Eijirou sighed before he moved a hand to squeeze the blonde's thigh. His hands were big, and warm. Familiar yet different. Older, but still the same.

“Katsuki, I asked if you were okay, not Natsumi.”

At that, Katsuki took a moment to actually assess himself. His hands were trembling as they held the little girl, his teeth chattered, his stomach ached and growled from the way he neglected his own needs.

So no. No he wasn’t okay.

But honestly Katsuki couldn’t remember the last time he’d really felt okay.

Before all of this he was still a wreck. A horrible bundle of heartbreak, and drinking until he couldn’t stand, and meeting random people he had no intentions of starting a relationship with. He was a poorly oiled machine of working to forget Eijirou, drinking to forget his heart break, and sleeping around to blow off some steam.

And when Emiko died and his sweet Natsumi was placed in his arms, all of his outlets immediately ceased to exist.

He had nowhere to place this grief, no where to momentarily set it down while he got himself fucked up. It was all just building up.

But that’s an impossible thing to tell someone. Moreover, Katsuki didn’t want to push that burden onto Eijirou. He didn’t need to know Katsuki was in pain, or that he was barely holding it together.

He’d just gotten the other man back in his circle, just gotten Eijirou to forgive him, to listen to him fully.

The last thing he wanted was to scare him away with this terrible grief.

“I’m hungry,” Katsuki said instead. He was scared, devastated, overwhelmed, and lost too.

But hungry was an easy fix. Hungry was a bone he could still throw Eijirou.

“I can help with that,” the redhead nodded before standing up and heading to the kitchen.

Eijirou cooked something easy. Something that wouldn’t upset Katsuki’s already queasy stomach, and something that wouldn’t cause too much commotion in the kitchen while Natsumi slept. When it was done, he brought the two bowls to the couch, where both men scarfed down the meal in silence. Katsuki was hungry from not taking care of himself, but Eijirou… it seemed the man’s stomach was still a bottomless pit after all this time.

They stayed at the couch and watched the documentary in complete silence, eating food that could’ve been made better by Katsuki, but neither of them mention it.

When both of them finished, they stayed there for a while. Still not talking, still unmoving, just staring at the sea creatures that swam across the screen. The sun peaked over the horizon, Eijirou’s redhead tickled against Katsuki’s neck as he leaned against his shoulder, the apartment stayed frozen in time for that short moment.

And during that time, Katsuki finally let out a breath he’d been holding for the past six months.

There’s still so much that needed to be said. So many words they’re hiding, and they both know it.

But for now, it felt really good to be taken care of, even if it was only for a moment. It felt nice to let go, to let the water completely engulf him. To sink down into the bottle and let himself drown, to let himself give up for a little bit.

Eijirou was good at fixing things. He’d always known just how Katsuki broke and exactly how to piece him back together. Right now, that familiarity was saving Katsuki’s life.

So for now he didn’t question it.

For now, he betrayed his own aching heart, and his brain that begged him for a break. He let Eijirou stay. Let Eijirou fill a void he once created. He let the redhead fill in the crooked gaps of Katsuki’s aching heart.

Because it felt /good/.

And he hadn’t felt /good/ in about four years.

Katsuki let his eyes trail down to where his daughter slept in his arms. She was curled up in the blanket Eijirou had wrapped her in, face a blotchy, puffy mess from crying. Eijirou’s thick fingers were there, tracing little designs into her skin, soothing the ache she surely had from crying. His touches were feather light as they trailed across her pale skin, gentle as they wiped at the dried tears.

Katsuki’s heart crumbled at the sight. At the lost opportunity to give Natsumi another parent. A good one, like Eijirou.

If things had been different, if Natsumi hadn’t been so stupid, if he’d stopped trying to do everything on his own.

Maybe Natsumi would be happier. Maybe she could process her grief normally with Eijirou. Maybe she wouldn’t be suffering with Katsuki.

Eijirou didn’t even have kids and he was already better at this than Katsuki.

“How’d you know?” He asked quietly. His voice was scratchy from how quiet he’d been.

Eijirou lifted his head from Katsuki’s shoulder, just enough to give him a confused look. They were close. So close like this. Close enough for Katsuki to feel the heat radiating off of the redheads face. Close enough that the familiar puff of Eijirou’s breath tickled his face.

His breath caught in his throat as he turned a fraction, getting even closer as he looked at his ex fucking boyfriend, the loss of his goddamn life, mere centimeters away.

In an instant Katsuki swung his face towards the television, begging his skin to chill the fuck out as it started to burn.

“How’d you know to put on a fucking ocean documentary?” He grumbled, closing his eyes as he tried to calm his beating heart.

He shouldn’t think like this. It’s fucking dangerous.

They were exes for a reason. They broke up for a goddamn reason. Yeah, maybe that reason was severely influenced by a miscommunication but—

Eijirou left him. He was content with leaving him. He made the decision to leave him without even telling Katsuki he felt ignored.

the redhead shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, “I didn’t. I just did what I would do if she was my kid.”

He smelt like sweet strawberry syrup, and warm sugar. His body radiated a welcoming heat that Katsuki had trouble ignoring, even when he really should.

The couch shifted, and soon the shorter man was standing up. He turned around and held out his strong arms towards Katsuki.

“Here, I’ll take her to bed. Maybe close your eyes for a little bit, you look exhausted,” he offered.

Instinctually his arms tightened around Natsumi, though he couldn’t tell you why. Eijirou would never do anything to hurt his little girl, Eijirou would never hurt a fly. The only reason Eijirou had hurt Natsumi the way that he did was because he’d become negligent in their relationship.

But Katsuki was scared to accept the help. Scared of what it meant to lean on Eijirou for even a fraction of a second. If he did, his heart might revert back to the way it used to be. If he did, he might remember how good it felt to be cared for by Eijirou.

“Why’re you here?”

It slipped out before he could think better of it. The redhead's hands falter at the question.

“Should I go?”

Suddenly Eijirou looked a bit insecure, like maybe he’d read the situation wrong and needed to back peddle.

Katsuki shrugged his shoulders as he patted his sleeping daughters back. It’s still a bit awkward if he’s being honest. They apologized, they’ve made up, but there’s still this ache between the both of them. It was like trying to cover a bursted pipe with duct tape. Yeah, it covered the source of all their anger and hatred, and yeah the blockage was blocking.

But still, things left unsaid slipped through the cracks. Insecurities, questions, fears.

“You hate me,” Katsuki mentioned, because he knew it was true.

Eijirou hated his guts for years. He knew that from friends of friends. They knew he didn’t want to see Katsuki after he moved to the city, and that he resented him for continuing to work himself to death.

Even worse, now that they’ve argued about their break up, Katsuki knew that Eijirou had left because he fucking ignored him and made him feel unwanted. The thought alone had his eyes and throat burning.

It’s the worst thing you can do to a person in his opinion. Make them feel useless, make them seem unnecessary in your life. Katsuki can’t even forgive himself for doing it.

So why was he still here? Surely a half assed apology at his front door didn’t throw out all that hatred.

But Eijirou just shook his head, giving him a look that Katsuki couldn’t read anymore.

“I don’t.”

But he should, Katsuki thought. Eijirou should hate him for ignoring him. He should never forgive Katsuki for ever making him feel that way. He hated himself for becoming someone that made Eijirou feel useless, and he hated how easy it was for Eijirou to forgive him.

He wanted to argue it, wanted to tell Eijirou that he was an idiot for taking care of the one person that hurt him most, wanted to tell him he deserved more than that.

But he’s fucking tired, and hurting, and worried for his daughter. It’s impossible for him to stretch himself any thinner.

Eijirou must’ve noticed because soon he was leaning forwards and grabbing Natsumi from Katsuki and gently adjusting her in his big, safe arms. She had no idea how lucky she was to be encapsulated in those arms.

“Try to close your eyes for a little. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Eijirou whispered before carrying her off to her room.

He played with the nail of his finger as he sat there with empty arms for the first time in a while. The dull ache of a child’s foot kicking his ribs and her fingers pulling in his hair finally settled in now that Katsuki wasn’t running on auto pilot. The blonde leaned back into the couch, tilting his head back and closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

He didn’t sleep right away. First he listened to the creak of Natsumi’s bed, and the sound of sheets being pulled over her. He waited for the floor boards to creak and Eijirou to come back out into the living room. Then Katsuki watched with tired eyes as the redhead took the now empty bowls to the kitchen, and tidied up around the living room.

At no point did he get a full nap. Not when everything was haunting him. Instead Katsuki got one of those strange, half awake half not moments where every blink was a little too long and he’d wake up to three minutes passing by on the clock. It was like that on and off for maybe an hour and half.

And then Eijirou was coming back to the couch, and sitting next to him like he used to. With his head leaned against Katsuki’s shoulder, and his weight fully against him. He used to do it to ground Katsuki when he was panicking.

It’s so strange to be back here, at Eijirou’s side. It’s the one place he’d always felt like he’d belonged. Eijirou was the only person Katsuki ever had a relationship with. Everyone else was just a fling to blow off steam.

Because Katsuki fucking adored Eijirou.

He was like a goddamn drug. Katsuki loved and loved and loved. Until his heart was full, until he was doing stupid shit like kissing Eijirou in public and cuddling in the movie theaters. He loved him so much that people stared at them funny.

He loved him so much that the only way he could stop was filling himself with alcohol to forget.

It never went away. Not really. How could it when he had never gotten the closure, when his goodbye was the rug swept out from under him after getting the promotion to get Eijirou to the city.

He loved Eijirou when he was eighteen, nineteen, twenty.

And then, when they broke up, when he was forced to leave, when he wasn’t allowed to show it publicly anymore, he loved Eijirou at twenty one, twenty two, twenty three and twenty four.

Even now, when he’s not sure if he should be resentful, or angry, or hateful. Even when it’s been years without him.

Katsuki still loved him like he was eighteen.

He let out a shaky breath, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Then he turned slowly, timidly, to where Eijirou’s head rested on his shoulder.

The redhead did the same, peering up at him with beautiful crimson eyes and long lashes. He looked nervous too. Like maybe they were both unsure of where they stood with each other.

Eijirou wasn’t his friend. He wasn’t his lover either. He was just the person who continued to show up for him. He read to his daughter, he fed them treats, and he made Natsumi smile. He cleaned up the apartment, helped Natsumi grieve, put her to sleep and fed Katsuki when he couldn’t get himself off the couch.

And that had to mean something. Right?

Did Katsuki even want it to mean something? Not that everything had changed? Now that his life only revolved around Natsumi?

“Thank you,” he whispered quietly, as they stared at each other.

Again they were so fucking close, their noses a centimeter apart.

“Of course,” Eijirou nodded.

Of course, like it was a given that he would take care of Katsuki after all this time. Of course, like he didn’t hate him. Of course, like he deserved it.

Katsuki can’t help it. He can’t stop it.

He leaned forward, air leaving his lungs until their noses bumped against each other, and their teeth clanked, and they were kissing.

Kissing for the first time in four years. Pressing their lips against one another like they’d never get the chance again. Eijirou hummed as he leaned into his, eyes fluttering shut when Katsuki turned to face him entirely.

The redhead calloused hand found placement on Katsuki’s waist, pulling him closer, closer, closer until Eijirou was falling backwards into the couch and Katsuki was landing on top of him.

What the fuck were they doing?

Katsuki pulled back, worried he’d totally just fucked up. They’re not friends. They’re not lovers. They're not enemies. They’re stuck somewhere far from all of those things.

“I, sorry, I,” he stared in shock at the man below him. Katsuki didn’t even think, he didn’t even use his brain.

He let his mind shut off for one second, let himself relax, let his brain demote itself to its basic needs. And he went to Eijirou.

The redhead panted below him, watching Katsuki become a sputtering mess for only a millisecond before his hand was tangling into his blonde hand and yanking him back down to his lips.

It’s familiar, it’s warm, it’s Eijirou. Like a mantra in his head all Katsuki could think about was the man below him. Eijirou kissed the same way he always did. Fully, devoted, dominant. He took control of it entirely, until Katsuki was nothing but a panting mess in his arms.

What the fuck were they doing? What the fuck was Katsuki doing?

His chest was scrambled. A mess of morals, or rules he had for himself that he was breaking. He shouldn’t run back to his ex, he shouldn’t be kissing Eijirou.

But fuck, it felt so good. It felt like coming home, it felt as though everything was finally clicking back into place for the first time in forever.

He pulled away from a moment, just barely, just enough for his air to become one with Eijirou’s and their lips brushed together with each pant.

“We should stop,” he whispered.

Because he knew it was true. Because this only complicated things. Because Eijirou needed someone who could devote their time to him, and Katsuki knew he couldn’t. Not with a baby. Not with work. Not with his grieving.

“Okay,” Eijirou nodded through half lidded eyes.

His lips were slick with both of their spit, cheeks a rosy shade as he gathered his breath, staring up at Katsuki like he was hungry for him.

Fucking fuck it.

Katsuki leaned forwards against, kissing the man beneath him and earning a jolt of surprise from him.

He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop himself. Not when he’d waited for years to feel the other man’s lips on his. Not when he’d taken so many people to bed, pretending they were as good as Eijirou, and wishing they’d erase the way Eijirou had touched him all those years ago.

The redhead groaned against his lips, a sound he hadn’t heard in years.

They should stop. They needed to stop.

Because he’s not what Eijirou needed. He will always be the one that’s left behind.

A sudden buzz from the coffee table tears both of their attention away from each other.

Katsuki licked his lips and blinked once, twice, three times before he realized it was his phone ringing.

He sat up quickly, face burning as reached for his cellphone, checking the caller ID.

“It’s the daycare,” he mumbled, not meeting Eijirou’s gaze.

What the fuck had he just done? What were they doing?

Eijirou stood up slowly, quietly grabbing his phone and straightening out his shirt.

“No worries. Call me if you need anything. Please.”

As the other man took his leave, Katsuki didn’t answer the phone.

How could he?

He’d just kissed Eijirou. Eijirou, his fucking ex boyfriend. The one boyfriend he’d ever allowed himself to have. The person who destroyed him four years ago. The person who he’d hated the most until recently.

They’d kissed, and from the feel of it, Eijirou was into it. Eijirou wanted more of it.

Katsuki brought his nail to his teeth, chewing on it nervously as his other hand yanked at his hair.

They couldn’t do this again.

/Katsuki/ couldn't do this again.

If they got together now, when Natsumi was in the picture, when he was overflowing with grief, when he’d just barely gotten a footing on things, Eijirou would surely leave.

Katsuki couldn’t promise him attention. Not when Natsumi was his priority.

Eijirou would break his heart again if he let him in. The thought alone sent Katsuki spiraling.

But it didn’t stop him from letting his fingers drag against his bottom lip, where the faint feeling of Eijirou’s lips still resided.

—

Everything had started to pass in a blur.

Eight months ago they declared a mangled body on a gurney to be his dead twenty nine year old sisters. Eight months ago they placed a two year old in his arms and told him good luck. Eight months ago, he became a father. Eight months ago he pressed his face into the deep blue and he hadn’t pulled it up since.

Two months ago he moved into Emiko’s house to pack away her things and send them to a storage unit. Two months ago, he found Eijirou again.

His parents took Natsumi away today.

They’d come to check on him after two months of giving him pace, and after taking one look at him they offered to take Natsumi for the day. Katsuki had said no, had begged for them to just go away, to leave him and his baby alone.

But then his mother started crying, and his father was picking Natsumi up, and then she was gone for the day.

It’s just a day. Just a play date at her grandparents house. Something Emiko used to allow their parents to do all the time when she needed a break. But it felt like a fucking punishment.

The office was closed today, so he couldn’t work. Natsumi was with his parents so he couldn’t focus on her.

And, well, Katsuki was lost. He was back in that deep blue, in the middle of the ocean. Lost, unsure of what direction to go or who to call for. He’s lost. Who should he care for? Who should he focus on? What the fuck was he supposed to do now that there was nothing in front of him, screaming and begging to be noticed?

“Hey,” a voice pulled him from the total state of numbness he’d crawled into.

Katsuki turned around.

He wasn’t sure where he’d walked to, he just knew if he didn’t move he’d think, and he really didn’t want to think about anything right now.

Thinking meant remembering, processing, grieving.

Eijirou smiled at him, one hand waving kindly as the other held onto a pink box full of what Katsuki could only assume was pastries.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. Not at all. In fact Katsuki could confidently say it wasn’t quite a smile at all but a look of pure concern gracing Eijirou’s face as he walked closer to where Katsuki had stood.

His own brain felt as if it’d been full of cotton, and someone let water in. Now it’s heavy, soaked, ruined, and overwhelmed.

“Where’s your Little One?” Eijirou looked around.

Natsumi. Emiko’s baby. His dead sister's child.

Katsuki swallowed thickly before turning to look at his surroundings.

A traffic light, an empty side walk, a convenience store. Tire marks across the ground, just beginning to rub away as the months pass. Flowers sit at the foot of the traffic lights base, along with tattered cards, unlit candles, tiny plush bears and white beads placed by members of the community and friends that Katsuki was close with.

And a picture of Emiko sat nestled in the flowers.

It’s the place she died.

That’s where he’d gone. That’s where Emiko had taken him. He’d gone to the spot where his sister took her last breath before a drunk driver crushed her car into this stupid fucking pole.

“Not with me,” he breathed out, feeling his eyes grow dry from just how wide they were.

Natsumi wasn’t here. She was taken away. He couldn’t take care of her so they took her from him. They took his last thread tied to Emiko. He’d failed her.

From behind him, he was distantly aware of Eijirou asking for permission to grab his arm before pulling him away from the traffic light. He knew what it was. He knew why Katsuki was there. This town was small and words traveled like forest fires.

The shorter man threw an arm over Katsuki, “Let’s get away from here, yeah?”

His weight once again felt like a warm, sturdy pressure pulling him back to earth from whatever floaty spot he’d gone to as he walked here. Eijirou was good at that. At bringing him back, at knowing exactly what to do when Katsuki worked himself up.

Katsuki let himself be walked away from the spot that bore all his dread. He wasn’t ready to be there. He wasn’t ready to tell Emiko what a failure he was.

They walked in silence, heading back to the apartment complex without exchanging any words. Katsuki let the man lead him, head still too full of that heavy, wet cotton.

He eyed the pink box in the redhead's free hand, letting it taunt him momentarily as they walked.

His pride and joy was in that box. Eijirou’s livelihood for the past seven years sat in the pink box, carried with so much care. Every pastry held so much significance. Eijirou had always been specific about ingredients, always careful with the measurements, always precise with the baking time and the ratio of sweet and indulgent.

“Eijirou,” his voice crackled a bit, almost as if it hadn’t expected words to be produced so fast. “Whatever happened to your dream of opening a new bakery?”

It’s the question of the fucking year. The question that had left Katsuki awake most nights. Eijirou had big dreams of the bakery in the city, but as soon as Katsuki got to that city those dreams were gone. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t daydreamed of Eijirou meeting him again in the city. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t searched for him at every pastry shop for the past four years.

The redhead froze momentarily, arm locking up around Katsuki as he clenched his teeth.

“When we broke up it sort of felt like you took the city. I didn’t want to move out there and have to see you move on without me every single day,” he said.

Katsuki nodded. If he hadn’t already been so fucking destroyed inside, that might’ve caused some sort of reaction.

Because he truly did fuck up Eijirou’s dream.

Back when they were together—both young and eighteen with silly hopes and dreams they’d share in the late hours of the night, when adults weren't around to tell them it was a stupid— Eijirou couldn’t shut up about the bakery.

Each night he’d explain in deep detail how he’d decorate, what he’d sell, who he’d hire, what the pricing would be like, what holiday specials he’d run, what he’d name each pastry.

It was all laid out. All perfectly planned and dreamed about.

And Katsuki destroyed it.

“So you gave up on it,” he asked weakly, watching his feet as they dragged across the pavement.

He gave up on his dreams because Katsuki ruined them. Because Katsuki ignored their relationship and made Eijirou feel useless.

“I didn’t give up, I just,” Eijirou’s bangs hung loosely in front of his face as he shook his head. “Just put it on hold.”

Katsuki wasn’t sure why he was protecting his feelings. He wasn’t sure why Eijirou wanted to kiss him the other night either.

He couldn’t take care of his boyfriend, couldn’t take care of his daughter, couldn’t save his sister.

What the fuck was he good for if all the people around him were suffering.

“I guess I’m just waiting for the time to be right,” Eijirou shrugged his shoulders as they walked into the apartment complex.

He swallowed, throat feeling tight as they got to their respective doors.

“Sorry I took the city.”

Eijirou shook his head, giving him a soft smile.

“Sorry I didn’t take it with you.”

But why? Why is he forgiven? Why would eijirou ever fucking forgive him for what he did?

All he did was fuck everything up. He couldn’t even handle Natsumi for two months without his parents taking her away and crying because of how fucked up he looked. And Eijirou forgave him? Eijirou kissed him? Eijirou wasted time on the guy who destroyed his dreams?

He fiddled with his keys, fingers trembling at the mere reminder that he’s going home to an empty house. No baby, no boyfriend. He couldn’t take care of Natsumi. Couldn’t take care of Eijirou.

Maybe all he’s destined for is a lonely life. Maybe it was for the better. A life of silence, where he can’t fail anyone. A life where he didn’t hurt the people around him with his own stupidity.

He unlocked his door, about to step into the darkness of Emiko’s apartment, but Eijirou’s voice stopped him.

“Katsuki, I have to tell you something.”

And it came out a bit mumbled and nervous, like it had been sitting in her chest for a while now, and it was taking everything in him to let it all spill out.

He turned around slowly, meeting Eijirou’s gaze. It’s powerful, and full of something familiar, but unknown. Like he hadn’t seen it in a while.

Eijirou straightened his shoulders, fixed his jaw, and Katsuki watched as he took one big breath. Not knowing he would see something he’d never forget.

“I still love you.”

It hit him like a fucking freight train.

Eijirou loved him, his daughter was taken, his sister was dead.

And Katsuki was fucking growing.

“No you don’t,” he shook his head.

His own voice sounded far away, as his ears started to ring. Katsuki can’t even begin to let himself feel any sort of emotion over this. He should be happy, he knew he should be happy. Eijirou still loved him. Eijirou wanted to love him after all this time.

But nothing will come out. Not emotion at all. Instead Katsuki’s standing there frozen, unfeeling, unable to formulate any sort of response other than immediate denial.

Eijirou’s face remained forcefully unchanged, though Katsuki could see tell-tale signs of his own hurt begging to deep thought.

“What?” The redhead swallowed.

His voice was shaky, like the confession was hard on him, like he’d been holding onto it for a long time and it was taking everything in Eijirou to stand firmly in his claim.

And Katsuki wished that things were different. He wished that it was a year ago and Emiko was alive. He wished that he didn’t have all this extra shit, all this added stress on his plate that made him feel crazy.

Because right now, he can’t give Eijirou what he needs. He can’t be a person in Eijirou’s life like this.

Katsuki shook his head, feeling tears fill up his eye sockets against his own will. It’s like his heart is screaming for him to stop, begging for Katsuki to go to the love of his life and never let go. He’s wanted this confession for so long.

But he /cant/.

“You don’t. You can’t— we can’t do this right now,” Katsuki shook his head frantically.

His fingers were going numb, his heart was snapping in two, his brain was telling him to run, his chest was begging him to breathe.

It was all too much.

He wanted Eijirou. He wanted to be with Eijirou.

But everything was piling on top of him, pushing him deeper as he struggled to catch his breath and fought off the heavy waves that shoved him down into a dark place Katsuki had been fighting off for eight months.

Eijirou’s own face grew frail, and soon he was reaching out to stop Katsuki’s hands from reaching into his hair and pulling.

“Why?” He’d asked.

Why can’t Katsuki love him now? Why? Why couldn’t he take more? Why was he so fucking weak right now?

It’s bubbling in his chest, swarming like a burning ache of wanting and yearning and hating. He wanted Eijirou. He wanted to be with him so badly.

But he can’t anymore.

“Because my fucking sister just died.”

It comes out as a scream that had Eijirou’s eyes growing wide.

And Katsuki should care more about how scared Eijirou looked. He should feel terrible for yelling, terrible for snapping at the one person who had taken care of him for the past two months.

But his sister is dead, and he can’t ever live up to her standards. He can’t raise Natsumi, he can’t make his parents proud, and he can’t take care of Eijirou.

Katsuki’s hands shove Eijirou’s off, immediately going to his hair and pulling hard, just as the redhead anticipated.

“Because, I’m a fucking father at twenty four years old to a baby that deserves so much better than me. I don't know how to hold a baby without thinking I’m gonna drop her, or get her to stop crying when she wants her mom. I’m killing myself at a job that I hate just to pay for an apartment in an area that’s not remotely close to anybody I care about.”

Eijirou’s eyes fill with tears that fall almost immediately.

But Katsuki can’t stop.

It’s all spilling out. He’s breaking, shattering, bursting to smithereens.

Subconsciously, Katsuki knew what he was doing. Breaking down to make the other man go. Freaking out, exploding, showing his real, true ugly to repulse Eijirou. To make him turn around and take his confession back.

But he didn’t leave. He didn’t run.

Instead he grabbed Katsuki’s arms as they bent and yanked at his blonde hair. He pulled Katsuki's door open and pushed him inside carefully, trying to get Katsuki into a familiar place before he broke down in the middle of the apartment complex hallway.

Katsuki grabbed at his shirt, feeling his own eyes flood with tears. His body shook with anticipation, and in some fucked up way excitement for this. Like he was finally breaking, like he’d finally been pulled to tight and now he was snapping.

“I wasn’t supposed to be her guardian, Ei. I wasn’t supposed to be anyone’s anything. Emiko was supposed to be here. She was supposed to grow old and I was supposed to be the messed-up uncle who showed up late to birthdays.”

He felt like Natsumi with how inconsolable he was. His voice was shrill as he yelled. As he begged for Eijirou to understand.

Eijirou didn’t let go of him, despite how uncomfortable he looked. He held Katsuki’s body close as Katsuki yanked at his shirt and yelled at him.

“Kats,” he tried desperately to speak but Katsuki interrupted him as everything he’d felt for the past eight months poured out of him.

“This tiny, helpless life looks up at me like I’m the only person left in the world. I don’t know how to be that person. Not like this.”

And finally, fucking finally, after one years rolled down Katsuki’s cheek the rest poured out like a fucking tsunami. Fast, dropping down fat and thick, hitting his shirt, falling to the floor, dripping all over his face.

Eijirou held him up when his knees buckled, teeth clenched, face scared. Stray tears dripped from Eijirou’s eyes too as he watched him fall apart in his arms.

He shouldn’t have to deal with this.

Eijirou could be with anyone else. He could find a normal person, a person whose life wasn’t so entirely fucked.

Katsuki couldn’t take care of him. Not right now, not four years ago, not ever.

“And if I can’t be that for her, how the hell can I ever be that for you? I was a shitty boyfriend to you. I couldn’t even stop for one second to see if you were still happy—“

“Stop it,” Eijirou yelled over him.

The short man’s hands were shaking too as they grabbed both of Katsuki’s arms tightly. Desperately trying to hold him together as he fell apart in Eijirou’s arms.

“Just, stop it,” Eijirou cried.

It only made Katsuki sob harder.

Because he did that. He made Eijirou cry. He was always the reason for the other man’s heart break.

The other man deserved something better than this. Someone whose life wasn’t in shambles, someone who could take care of him. Someone that wasn’t Katsuki.

But even so, Eijirou pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said breathlessly.

It didn’t feel that way though. It hadn’t felt like anything would be okay for a very long time.
Nothing had felt okay since he watched them lower Emiko into six feet of dirt.

“My sister's dead,” he sobbed.

“I know,” Eijirou’s voice cracked as he squeezed Katsuki tighter.

He tried to pull away, frantic as he tried to warn Eijirou, as he tried to do the right thing and tell Eijirou what he already knew. He shoved and yanked, tried to get himself away from this, away from how good it felt to be held by these arms. Away from the thought that he could ever have something like this when he was so fucked up.

But Eijirou didn’t let him go.

He didn’t shove Katsuki away when his nails dug into Eijirou’s shoulders. He didn’t walk away when Katsuki’s tears got all over his chest and arms. He didn’t leave when Katsuki’s cries turned to wails as grief consumed every part of him.

Instead he pulled him closer, and held him tighter. Like Katsuki was worth something. Like he meant something. Like he wasn’t just a disgusting mess of a man.

All at once his body gave up, and fell limp into Eijirou’s hold.

He’s tired of fighting. Katsuki was tired of being the strongest person in the room. He was tired of pushing this grief away, tired of pushing everything down and praying it wouldn’t surface.

“Emiko’s gone. She’s not coming back,” he curled into Eijirou’s neck.

It’s obvious. She’s dead. She’s been dead for eight months. Everybody knew she wasn’t coming back.

But Katsuki hadn’t told himself yet. Katsuki hadn’t let himself know that he’d lost a sister. He’d been so intent on making sure Natsumi was okay. On making sure his daughter knew that her /mother/ was gone, and she was going to be okay.

He hadn’t let himself feel the loss yet. Hadn’t let the shock set in, or the grief to pull his heart apart.

“I know,” Eijirou whispered as he held back his own emotion.

And Katsuki wasn’t sure why that’s what truly broke him. He couldn’t tell you why hearing Eijirou try to be strong for him was what broke him beyond comprehension.

But he cried harder into the other man’s necks as Eijirou held him up in the entryway of Emiko’s apartment. He sobbed, ugly, loudly, painfully into his ex lovers neck.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t throw all this shit on Eijirou. Not after everything they’ve been though. Not when he’d just proved to Eijirou that he could be good. That he would never try to hurt him on purpose.

Katsuki didn’t know what to do other than break. He needed help. He needed Emiko. He needed his big sister to tell him what to do.

“Emiko,” he sobbed, “What am I supposed to do?”

But no matter how much he cried for her, no matter the way he begged, Emiko wouldn’t answer. Emiko wasn’t coming home.

“Breathe,” Eijirou spoke softly in his ear instead. “Just breathe for me, Sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

He hasn’t been that in four years. He hadn’t been called anything remotely as kind and unworthy as sweetheart since the day Eijirou left him. In bed he was a rotten slew of vulgarities that he never really liked, but always took. At work he was an ass, he was the boss that nobody wanted on his bad side.

But Sweetheart. To Ei, he’s still his Sweetheart. It shouldn’t affect him the way it does. It was a joke, one that somehow stuck. Eijirou had actually called him sweetheart sarcastically, after he was being a bit too snippy one night. Over time it just stuck.

It flooded his system like warm water. Like someone had finally taken him in from the rainy streets and dried him off with a warm towel. His lungs were constricting, his heart was aching, and he couldn’t breathe.

He was water, spilling, overfilling, flowing out of Eijirou’s cupped hands which tried so desperately to hold him together.

Katsuki didn’t deserve him. Not after everything. Not now. Not later on either. His life was permanently screwed up now. He’d never get to slow down for a second and just take a breath. Obstacles were constantly thrown left and right and Katsuki was permanently in fight or flight as he dealt with them.

The shorter man began to walk further into the house, guiding them to the living room before he sat Katsuki on the couch.

“Where’s Natsumi,” he asked again as he sat.

“She’s at my parent’s house,” Katsuki wiped at his face.

“Why is she at your parent’s house?”

He knew better than to keep secrets. He wasn’t a little kid anymore. Katsuki should be able to speak like a fucking adult.

But how do you tell your ex boyfriend, who broke up with you because you constantly tried to do things on your own, that your child was taken for the day because of that reason exactly.

His parents had taken one look at him and cried. Maybe it was a mix of things. Maybe it was the fact that their daughter was dead, and their granddaughter was going through changes that most people didn’t go through until they were much older.

Perhaps seeing Katsuki’s sunken eyes and pale skin was the breaking point. Maybe seeing him weak made them realize he wasn’t always strong.

Either way, they took Natsumi for the day, and told Katsuki to focus on himself for a bit. It was supposed to be a kind gesture but really it only felt like defeat.

He wanted his baby back. He wanted his daughter. He wanted the only thing that was still alive from Emiko back at his side.

“Did something happen? Is she okay?”

Eijirou’s voice pulled him from his deep thoughts. He was so worried, always so concerned for things that shouldn’t involve him. He was selfless like that. He was perfect like that.

“She’s fine,” he wiped at his eyes violently, as if the tears were somehow proving his parents' point.

As if he was a walking display of someone Eijirou didn’t really want.

It’s stupid. Katsuki was a fucking idiot for thinking this way. For still wanting to be good for a person that dumped him years ago.

That’s why it’s so hard to believe that Eijirou still loved him. That’s why it felt fucking impossible to accept. He was a wreck. A mess of work, and a baby, and overwhelming grief.

He’s not somebody to want.

And yet Eijirou is still here. Still sitting in front of him with so much concern laced is his beautifully soft features. Waiting for a response, for an explanation to the chaos Katsuki brought along with him.

It’s not fair of him to do this to Eijirou. To drag him into all of this horrible sorrow, this painful grief and longing for someone who’d never come back to them.

“They said I’m killing myself,” he admitted when Eijirou’s staring became too overwhelming. “Said I can’t do everything all on my own, or I’ll forget to take care of myself too.”

The redhead nodded his head silently, “Your parents are right.”

It shouldn’t feel like a stab to the guts, but it does.

Because if anybody knew about that, if anyone was well versed in Katsuki and his inability to ask for help, it was Eijirou. That’s why he’d ended a three year relationship. That’s why they haven’t spoken in four years. That’s why they resented each other for so long.

Because Katsuki didn’t fucking know when to quit. He didn’t stop until he was drowning.

He was awful. He was someone that nobody could put up with, and even though he knew all of that he wasn’t sure he’d changed.

Katsuki felt his chin tremble against his will, nerves wracking his body as he waited for the other man to say something, anything. To give Katsuki any sort of indication that he was annoyed, or frustrated or sick of him for doing the same shit /again/.

“Are you angry?” He felt himself ask, knowing he probably shouldn’t. He wouldn’t like the answer.

But Eijirou only frowned and shook his head. He put a hand over Katsuki’s own and gave it a tight squeeze.

“Why would I be?”

Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut. The empty apartment, the footsteps of Eijirou walking out on him, the way his own cries filled up the empty apartment. Why wouldn’t he be livid with Katsuki for continuing to work himself to death in every aspect of his life?

He kept fucking up over and over. He couldn’t get it right.

“Isn’t that why you left?” He croaked.

A flash of guilt washed over Eijirou’s face. Furrowed brows, down set eyes, pursed lips. It was hard to watch. Hard to acknowledge. Hard to see his past lover so upset over Katsuki again.

But it had to be mentioned. They broke up. Eijirou didn’t /want/ Katsuki anymore. He couldn’t handle being with someone like him. He’d made it entirely too clear that he needed more, that Katsuki wasn’t enough, that he was fine with packing up and leaving.

And now he said he loved him again. He said he never stopped.

Who’s to say he wouldn’t leave when shit got rough again. When Katsuki became a fucked up mess trying to keep his family afloat.

He can’t fucking handle that again. He can’t handle losing his sister, becoming a father, and losing Eijirou again.

“Yeah,” Eijirou said softly. “Yeah it was.”

Tears shouldn’t cloud his eyes but they do. He had relived Eijirou’s departure over and over for years. It haunted him each night. It impaired his ability to love anybody else. It played constantly in his head when he slept with anybody else.

The way he’d left without even looking at Katsuki, at his boyfriend of three years. The way it blind sided Katsuki to the point that his own legs gave out. The way he’d cried and begged in a way he’d never done for anyone or anything else in his life.

Their break up destroyed him.

And it was all Katsuki’s fault for not asking for help. For thinking he could handle shit on his own.

He choked on a sob, trying and failing to swallow it as more tears dripped down his face. Tears for Eijirou, tears for Emiko, tears for Natsumi and his parents.

And maybe, just this once, tears for his own heartbreak.

“I’m sorry, Ei. I’m so fucking sorry for not being better,” he cried into his hands. “I’m sorry.”

It’s a hurt he’ll never recover from. A pain he’ll take to his own grave. He could apologize over and over again for not nurturing his relationship and Katsuki would still never fully forgive himself.

Eijirou had been everything. His sun, his moon, his stars, the universe that held them all. He was everything Katsuki had ever wanted and he’d made it a goal to show that to him.

Yet somehow, in his drive to make Eijirou happy, in his journey to get him closer to his dreams, he’d ruined everything. He’d overlooked him. He ignored the one thing in the world he truly cared about.

How could he ever love him again? How could Katsuki ever be sure he wouldn’t fuck up like that again?

“Hey, look at me,” Eijirou ran a hand up his back before giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You are not the only one who screwed our relationship up.”

And that’s extremely hard to believe.

Because Katsuki was a fuck up. That’s what he did. He fucked things up for everyone.

When he met Eijirou’s eyes, they held tears of their own.

“I should’ve said something. The second I felt lonely, or like you didn’t love me I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have left you. I shouldn’t have packed my stuff without warning and left.”

It’s so much. Too much. Too much for Katsuki's already obliterated heart to handle.

Since the day he was left behind at twenty years old he had waited and waited to hear those words. To finally know the reason why he was abandoned. To be comforted in the notion that it was a regret.

And now he can’t believe it. Now it’s too hard to even understand why someone would ever return to him.

He’s different now. He’s forever changed. He’s not ready to accept love again. Not with Natsumi, not with his new found parenthood.

Eijirou spoke softly, “If I had known what you were doing, I would’ve stopped you. I wouldn’t have left if I knew why you were working so much.”

‘Wouldn’t have left’ echoed off the walls of his empty, numb brain. The fact that there had even been a chance of Eijirou staying broke his heart. He could’ve had him this whole time, all these years. He could’ve met Natsumi when she was born, and could've enjoyed Emiko’s final years before she left.

/Emiko/.

All at once, grief crept right back into his stomach, and as if on cue it growled in response. He hadn’t eaten today. He’d been too absorbed in work, and Natsumi, and his parents, and Emiko’s apartment, and packing and—

“Here.”

A small croissant was in front of him, wrapped in a napkin, glazed with butter. It must’ve been in the box Eijirou had brought over from the bakery. The one he’d abandoned when Katsuki started freaking out.

Eijirou held it out patiently, waiting for Katsuki to take it. He did of course, if not because he was starving then because nothing could beat Eijirou’s baking.

Each bite felt like a warm hug, a comforting kiss, a fresh set of linens on a plush mattress. It was sweet, soft, and delicious. Familiar in the way that Eijirou’s baking always was, but also different from what Katsuki remembered eating when they were together.

“This is new,” he mumbled, more to himself than Eijirou. His cheeks were full, but he continued to inhale the pastry.

Eijirou chuckled softly. “I tweaked the recipe a bit, yeah. How could you tell?”

“They’re sweeter,” Katsuki nodded.

“In a bad way?”

Katsuki huffed out a laugh at that.

Eijirou’s baking was one of the reasons he fell head over heels for him. Everything he created was delicious. It was different, innovative, always new and daring. Katsuki loved everything Eijirou cooked, and truly believed that everybody in town did as well.

It’s one of the reasons Katsuki wanted to help Eijirou get his bakery to the city. It’d make more money there, and he’d get way more recognition for his amazing work.

“As if that’s even possible. You’re the best baker in this town. Everything you make is amazing,” Katsuki licked at his index finger and thumb, finishing off the last few bits.

Talking about something else was good momentarily. It distracted him from the dread looming over his head.

His sister was dead, and his ex of three years was still in love with him and was awaiting an answer Katsuki never thought he’d give.

But the food was good. He could talk about the food easily.

“Thanks Kats,” Eijirou smiled softly. He closed the box of pastries before setting them off to the side somewhere.

It was quiet for a while. Long enough that their ears adjusted to the silence and they could hear the quiet hum of the fridge and the soft blow of the air conditioning.

Eijirou was the first to break the silence.

“My mom says it’s like a rock in your shoe.”

He didn’t look at Katsuki, and Katsuki didn’t look at him either.

His chest was too empty, his head was too full. He was thinking about Eijirou, the confession, his parents watching his daughter, his dead sister, the ground that swallowed her whole that day six months ago, the traffic light that a drunk driver betrayed.

What the fuck did a rock have to do with anything?

Then Eijirou clarified, “Losing someone you love.”

Oh.

They were talking about it.

It’s the first time anyone had bothered to sit down and talk to Katsuki about it. He’d of course gotten the obligatory apologies at her funeral, and texts from friends expressing their deepest condolences and sympathies.

But nobody had ever wanted to /talk/ about it. About the grief, about this horrible feeling looming over him every single fuckign day.

It clouded his thoughts, it destroyed his heart, it betrayed his lungs.

“It’s like having a rock in your shoe. At first it’s so painful, it hurts so much right?” Eijirou asked.

“Yeah,” Katsuki breathed out, and sadly he felt nervous to admit that.

As if grief was something he was ashamed of. He’d told Natsumi that grief was normal, that feeling sad for missing her mama was okay and he’d always be there to help her through those feelings.

But nobody ever did that for him.

Eijirou continued, despite the way Katsuki’s chest grew heavy and his eyes grew wet again. He left them wide, staring at the gaming console on Eijirou’s entertainment center, begging those tears to go the fuck away.

“But with time, it gets easier. The discomfort starts to become easier to bear, something you're used to.”

Katsuki can’t imagine that. He can’t imagine ever forgetting Emiko. She was the light of the family. The glue. She was his big sister. The first person he came out to, the only person who helped him get through his and Eijirou’s break up, the person he trusted with his secrets.

He was so fucking lost without her.

Eijirou paused to look at the blond, and when he noticed the way his eye lashes glistened in the light of the living room and put a hand on Katsuki’s thigh and gave it a squeeze.

Did he know how much that meant? Just a simple squeeze? Did he understand that this was making Katsuki fall apart?

“It’ll never be the same. You’ll never ever forget about that rock in your shoe. Some days it’ll bother you again, and you’ll admit that it hurts. Some days you’ll hardly feel it.”

Like a guiding light, it truly almost felt like Eijirou was the only one navigating him through this darkness. He’d been the only one willing to reach out and yank Katsuki from this horrendous grief that held him down.

Katsuki turned his head slowly to look at the other man. The man that he loved more than anything in the entire world.

“Losing Emiko must be the most painful thing you’ve ever had to go through,” eijirou smiled sadly.

Losing Eijirou was a close second, he doesn’t add.

“It is. I hate it,” he answered honestly.

For the first time in maybe seven months, there’s no two year old here, listening to everything he said. He didn’t have to hide this pain from her right now. He didn’t have to be strong.

A stray tear fell from his face then, and before he could move a hand to wipe it Eijirou’s thumb was already there, brushing it away gently.

He pulled Katsuki’s face closer to his own as he softly spoke.

“Let yourself hurt. Let yourself be a mess for a while. With time that hurt will go away. It’ll become more manageable.”

Against his better judgement he leaned into the calloused hand. It was easier said than done. Letting yourself feel pain was terrifying. Admitting that he felt weak was nearly impossible for him.

Now it was even harder. He was a father. A guardian to the most wonderful child in the world. The only gift his sister left him. His treasure.

Katsuki shook his head, “I can’t break down in front of Natsumi. Not when she just lost her mom.”

Because he wouldn’t. Not when she needed someone to be strong for her. Not when this grief was also affecting her. Maybe she’s young and won’t remember any of this, maybe she will hardly remember the transition from Baba to Dad, or from the small town to the busy city.

But she’ll remember how it felt. She’ll remember how Katsuki treated her. She’ll remember the warmth and the happiness, not the horrendous tears and mourning Katsuki harbored when she went to sleep.

Eijirou gave him a small, sad smile. Like he knew that’s what he’d say. Like maybe Katsuki hadn’t changed one bit in the past four years.

Maybe he was just a huge disappointment of a man who couldn’t think. A man who didn’t communicate. Maybe Eijirou was realizing he didn’t want this again.

But then his strong arms were wrapping around Katsuki’s shoulders, and he was pulling him closer until Katsuki was practically locked against his chest.

“Then for tonight, when it’s just you and me, let yourself mourn,” the redhead said quietly.

Katsuki let his chin rest against the shorter man’s broad shoulders.

“How?” He felt himself ask.

“Whatever feels right. Whatever you need to do. I’ll be here. I’ll stay.”

He’ll stay.

It shouldn’t mean as much as it did. It shouldn’t mean anything at all.

But four years ago Katsuki was on the floor crying and begging for Eijirou to stay, and he never really got over the fact that he didn’t.

So he wrapped his arms around Eijirou and ignored that lingering want in his chest. He ignored the way his heart begged him to reciprocate the other man’s prior confession, and ignored the fact that Eijirou wanted to start this again.

And he let himself mourn.

It was ugly, and probably loud. He cried so hard that his shoulders shook and his fingers trembled. He sobbed into Eijirou’s neck, smelling his cologne— the same cologne from four years ago.

He cried and cried and cried.

For /his/ big sister, for /his/ loss. Not for the loss of a mother, or a daughter, or a friend.

For Katsuki’s big sister, he grieved.

For Emiko, Emi, Sissy, Mimi, Miko, Sis, brat. For all of the names she went by and all the names he’d never get to use again. He grieved the loss of late nights on the patio, of calling her on the phone every Wednesday to talk about work, or boys, or anything that came up. Of the memories of playing in their parents backyard, and the way they’d only ever be talked about from his mouth.

And Eijirou held him through it all. He didn’t push him away when tears, or snot, or spit stained his shirt. He didn’t laugh when Katsuki’s lungs practically gave out and he was a wheezing sobbing mess in his arms.

Eijirou let him break. He held him together in a way that only he knew how.

And for a moment it felt good to be known so well. To not be able to hide from Eijirou the same way he hid from himself.

It felt good enough for Katsuki to forget about the confession from earlier. Good enough for the stress of Natsumi being away from him to melt away.

Good enough for him to cry himself to sleep in the other man’s arms.

__

It’s been a week since Katsuki broke down, and Eijirou felt like a flaming piece of garbage. What type of idiot confesses to someone going through the loss of their goddamn sister? He groaned into his fridge as he rummaged around for something to eat.

He’d known Katsuki was hurting, he’d known the other man was holding in his grief, he’d fucking knew the other man needed support right now, and instead he was fucking selfish.

Instead he confessed his love to the man that /he/ left four years ago.

He’d thought that maybe it would help. Thought that if Katsuki knew he loved him, and he wanted to be there for him, that maybe Katsuki might feel a bit of weight off his shoulders. He was such an idiot.

Lately all he’d done with Katsuki was mess up. He fucked up their relationship four years ago, and now after given a chance to do right by him, he stressed him out.

A sharp knock pulled him away from his fridge. When he opened it, he was met with none other than Katsuki himself.

“I need to talk with you.”

Eijirou’s response was immediate, “I’m sorry.”

He cringed at himself again. He should be letting the other man talk, should be learning from his old mistakes.

But he felt so horrible.

He loved Katsuki so much, and wanted to help him, but it felt like all he was doing was stressing him out.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

But he was wrong. Eijirou knew he was. It felt like everything was slipping through his fingers and for the life of him Eijirou couldn’t catch a grip.

“No, I’m sorry for everything. For leaving you four years ago, for confessing right after your sister died. I’m sorry. I’ve been selfish.”

He swallowed down the burn rising in his throat. Eijirou didn't get to feel bad. Not after all of this time, all of this heart break. He did this to them. Even if Katsuki was inattentive, even if he did feel like the other man was uninterested. He should’ve said something.

“Selfish?” Katsuki frowned, as if it genuinely disgusted him to hear that. “Ei, you’re the only person that’s been here for me since I moved into Emiko’s place. You’re not selfish.”

He let out a shaky breath, and leaned to the side of his door, quietly offering the other man entry. Natsumi must’ve been with her grandparents again, because Katsuki walked in easily.

“But I keep doing all the wrong things,” Eijirou closed his eyes tight. “I shouldn’t have told you how I felt when you were so obviously hurting.”

Katsuki gave him a guilty look, like he wasn’t sure how to respond, and the air hung heavy between them. For once Eijirou actually understood what they meant in books now. He could feel how thick the tension was, could cut it with a knife.

There was so much left unsaid between them, even now.

They were so entangled in each other, so twisted up in each other's hurt and comfort and pain and anger. Tangled tight until neither of them could take it anymore, until they were just about to snap.

Katsuki hung his head with a quiet sigh.

And Eijirou knew this moment would be one he wouldn’t forget for a very long time. You can always see it, you can always feel it. His stomach coiled up in dread as the fibers between them began to loosen, to untangle, to /let go/ of each other.

Katsuki voice was low and exhausted as he spoke

“I’ve waited for this moment for so long. I wanted you to come back to me more than anything in the fucking world.”

And Eijirou’s lips trembled as he stood in that fucking door frame like an idiot.

“But?”

“But now it doesn’t really matter what I want. I’ve got a baby. That’s my whole world now.”

Eijirou nodded his head adamantly, as if he could somehow convince Katsuki that he adored Natsumi just as much as he loved Katsuki through a mere nod.

“I know that. I love Natsumi and I love you.”

But Katsuki just shook his head and gave him a sick look. His eyes held dark circles, his lips were born and chapped, Eijirou could see the bones of his cheeks as they clung tightly to his skin.

Katsuki wasn’t okay.

And it wasn’t just about Eijirou. It was everything else, everything in between. He looked like a haunted man of who he used to be.

“I’m leaving. I’m going back to the city so that I can work, and pay off my sister's apartment, and afford a daycare closer to my job,” Katsuki explained.

Eijirou tried his best to mask the snapping of his heart. This was for the best. Katsuki was killing himself here. Eijirou could see that, anyone could see that.

But he’s leaving for the city, and he didn’t tell Eijirou. He’s leaving for the city, and he’s leaving Eijirou behind. It’s almost like a taste of his own horrible medicine. Katsuki’s leaving him now, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Oh,” he croaked, because what could he say? How could he stop Katsuki from doing something that would save him.

Even if it hurt, even if it felt like Katsuki was leaving him, he wanted the other man to do what’s right.

“It’s not because of you,” Katsuki screwed his own eyes shut when his voice broke.

Eijirou moved away from the door frame, walking closer to where the broken man stood in the middle of his hallway. He wouldn’t touch the other man, wouldn’t overwhelm him anymore than he already had.

Katsuki’s eyes were full of tears that he refused to let shed. They piled up on beautiful long lashes, drowned precious scarlet eyes, made tender skin twitch with each blink.

“Coming back here has been my worst nightmare. Everywhere I turn I see us. Me and you, when we were happy. When we didn’t resent each other. And then I see Emiko. Emiko’s favorite brewery, Emiko’s hair salon, Emiko’s favorite restaurant.”

When he couldn’t take it anymore, Eijirou broke his own made up rule and cupped the blonde's cheek. A single tear tumbled down, and Eijirou was quick to wipe it away with his thumb.

Katsuki hiccuped, “I pass that damn intersection that took her from me every single day. I can’t keep reliving this.”

And Eijirou nodded.

Because he loved him more than anything else in this world. Because Katsuki was hurting. He was going through a pain like no other, and Eijirou didn’t get to dictate how he handled that pain.

His own heart was crumbling at what this meant. At what he knew he had to do now.

Katsuki wiped his own tears, with shaky hands as he stuttered, “And I also know that I can’t expect you to pick up your life and follow me home. I can’t throw a kid on you and tell you to be a parent at twenty four years old. That’s not healthy.”

It felt like a storm was finally approaching. Like the black clouds were tumbling towards him after days of looking too far away. The impending doom of what he knew was to come.

Katsuki grabbed the hand Eijirou had used to cup his face.

“I won’t take your life and guide it in the direction I want.”

Eijirou collected himself momentarily. He schooled his bottom lip as it threatened to tremble, swallowing the harsh lump in his throat.

“I want to be with you. You’re not making me say that. It’s what I want,” he faked a smile.

But Katsuki shook his head.

“What about the bakery? What about your /life/ outside of me? Four years ago you had a dream and I destroyed it for you.”

Eijirou breathed out, “You didn’t—“

The blonde cut him off almost immediately.

“I did. I was so obsessed with making your dream a reality that I didn’t even think about what /you/ wanted.”

Eijirou was lying and they both knew it. Because that dream had come to a screeching halt the moment they broke up, the second Katsuki moved to that city Eijirou tossed the dream in the garbage.

But it never quite left.

It just sat in the back of his mind most days. A childish dream he’d never reach. A goal he’d set before the real world showed him how quick things go to shit.

“And I won’t do that again,” Katsuki told him, voice full of shame.

He should feel good, knowing that Katsuki was remorseful, that Katsuki knew he stole a little fragment of him when he took the city of his dreams.

But it wasn’t black and white. It wasn’t that simple. Katsuki hadn’t done it to spite him. He’d done it because of work. Because do a job he’d gotten for Eijirou years ago.

It all seemed so far away now. A drama that had hurt so bad once was now finished to this small, infinitesimal thing.

As Katsuki tried Eijirou’s fingers away from his cheek, Eijirou choked.

“I still love you.”

Like it could mean something after /everything/. Like he was worth any of this heart ache. Eijirou knew the answer. He knew Katsuki wasn’t ready for him. He knew the other man might never want more with him again after everything they’ve gone through.

It’s too much. It’s too painful.

And yet he’s standing there like a dog with a bird at Katsuki’s door, waiting, begging for the other man to love him.

But Katsuki was firm in his own resolve.

“You need to think about this. About us. About what loving me means now that a baby is in the picture. You need to be able to commit to a life of this,” he said.

Eijirou nodded through each word probably a bit too enthusiastically, just to show that he was listening. That he wanted to listen, that he could be good for Katsuki.

“Because I don’t have the strength to fall apart when you leave again,” Katsuki finished.

Tears dripped down his shirt, and Eijirou followed each of them like they’d stop if he stared hard enough. But he caused them.

He’s the reason Katsuki’s scared to fall apart again. He’s the reason Katsuki is scared to trust.

At that, a sob ripped through his own throat against his own wishes, “I want to be with you, I want to commit to this.”

But even as he begged, even as he promised commitment, Katsuki shook his head. Denying him. Denying /them/ of being together.

“I don’t want you to give up on shit because of me. You still have so much to do, so much that I /know/ you want to do. I don’t want you to live a life full of regrets. I want you to live the life you wanted before I threw a wrench in your plans.”

To some extent Eijirou understood. He had a full life ahead of him, and he did have Gail he wanted to achieve, but he wanted Katsuki so much more than all of that.

The blonde let out a shaky breath, “So please, just give it time. Think about what you really want, and if it’s not me and Natsumi don’t come back. Don’t say it again unless you really really mean it.”

Eijirou’s face contorted in pain at the words.

“It /will/ be you and Natsu. It /is/ you and Natsumi,” he tried.

But again, Katsuki just bit the inside of his lips, like he was fighting himself over this as well.

“You’re not going to let me choose you, are you?” Eijirou asked.

Katsuki furrowed his brow painfully and closed his eyes, like he couldn't bear to look Eijirou in the eyes as he answered.

“Not right now. Not like this.”

Not right now.

Not like this.

No.

The answer was no. They weren’t getting back together, Katsuki didn’t want to be with him until he gave it time. Until he contemplated something he already knew the answer to.

They weren’t enemies. They weren’t lovers. They weren’t best friends. They weren’t anything anymore.

“So then,” Eijirou felt numb as he spoke.

“This is goodbye?”

Katsuki wrapped his arms around himself as he gave Eijirou a pained look. His face was blotchy from crying, eyes tired from overthinking, skin pale from all of the stress.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

It was quiet for a beat, and honestly Eijirou wasn’t sure who moved first, but before he knew it they were darting into a hug. Both of them let out a shaky cry, like it physically hurt to do this.

They weren’t together. This wasn’t a break up.

But it was goodbye, again. It was the acknowledgment that they weren’t going to see each other again, until they were both sure of what they really wanted.

“I love you,” Eijirou cried into the other man’s neck, breathing in the spicy scent of his cologne that he never quite forgot.

“I love you too,” Katsuki sniffed. “That’s why I’ve gotta let you go.”

He cried harder at that.

It wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to dig his nails in, wanted to put up a fight, wanted to leave claw marks from being pulled away.

But it’s not what Katsuki wanted. It’s not what Eijirou needed.

Katsuki pulled away just enough to cup Eijirou’s face with both his hands and stare at him intensely through his thick tears.

“Get the bakery, get the apartment, take the fucking risk. Find what you want in this life.”

So passionate, so desperate, like he was begging Eijirou to live. Like he wanted nothing more than for Eijirou to keep dreaming and moving forward with his life.

He knew it was the mature thing. He knew Katsuki was right.

But tonight he wanted Katsuki.

“I already found it,” he whispered through trembling lips.

And then the blonde was pressing his lips against Eijirou’s. Pulling him closer, breathing him in, demanding more, more, more. All Eijirou could think to do, all he ever wanted to do was to give it all to Katsuki anyways.

He’d give the other man anything. He’d do just about anything if it meant he could have Katsuki, just one more time.

Because this was goodbye, again.

They moved through the house in haste, shirts tossed off haphazardly in the kitchen, pants yanked off at the foot of the bed. A kiss at his hip, a bit at his neck, an exchange he’d never forget for the rest of his life.

Eijirou’s fingers graced skin he hadn’t seen in years as they tangled their bodies together one last time to say goodbye.

__

Katsuki left the next day.

His boxes had all been packed and the movers were already driving to his new place when he’d visited Eijirou that night. His apartment was vacant in the morning, leaving not a single piece of him behind.

All Eijirou had was the intimacy they shared last night, and he could already feel those tender touches, and vulnerable moments fading the longer he stared at that empty apartment.He was devastated. It was a pain like no other, a horrible taste of what he’d done four years ago. He left him there, to sit and think about what he could’ve done to make Katsuki stay.

He cried in the grocery store. Cried in the walk-in freezer at work. Cried when he made raspberry thumbprint cookies for a little baby that wouldn’t come visit after daycare. Cried when he went home to an empty apartment and couldn’t turn around to go to Katsuki’s. He sobbed when new tenants moved into Emiko’s old apartment, and effectively replaced the Bakugou’s that once lit the place up.

He knew that Katsuki had asked him to think about it because he didn’t want Eijirou to settle. He wanted Eijirou to be happy with his life, happy with his choices. He didn’t want Eijirou to feel trapped with the two of them.

But it still hurts. He still hated that he had to be away from the two people he wanted to be with more than anything.

His moms said that Katsuki needed time too, that it’s not just about Eijirou and his world, but also the new world that Katsuki was stepping into.

And he understood that. He knew that all of this was too much on Katsuki.

But that didn’t mean he missed him any less. That didn’t mean he didn’t wish things were different. If Eijirou had never walked out that day, maybe he would’ve been the one to walk Katsuki through this horrible grief and new world of parenting. He would’ve been able to support him.

Or maybe they wouldn’t have. Maybe they would’ve broken up when it all became too much. When the stress of becoming a new parent unexpectedly took over both their minds until they were overwhelmed and hated each other.

Maybe this was how it was supposed to be.

Either that or Eijirou was truly delusional. At this point he didn’t really care.

It took him a month to snap out of it, to come to the realization that Katsuki was right. It wasn’t like Eijirou could pick up his entire bakery and plop it down in the city overnight. He also had a lease to finish with his current apartment. Katsuki was also right about his aspirations. He still had a life to live, and dreams to put in motion. He had plans, had goals. If Eijirou didn’t at least try, he’d live his life full of regret.

Katsuki was giving him time for those goals. Not an outright rejection, not a no, but a ‘not right now.’ He was given the chance to get it together, to decide if he was ready to be a parent, to be a partner.

So he took the time.

The first month he cried almost everyday. He cried when Katsuki texted him and said they’d made it back to the city safely. Cried again when he sent a picture of Natsumi spending her third birthday with her grandparents. Cried when Katsuki said he missed him too. Cried every time he baked a fresh batch of raspberry thumbprint cookies, and realized he didn’t need to make extra freebies for Natsumi anymore.

By the second month he was back on his feet, with a fire lit under his ass. He was going to be the best goddamn baker in this boring town, and then he’d make it big somewhere else. He reached out to a real estate agent and a lawyer. Every penny earned was saved, invested, added to his savings that sat unused for seven years.

And then he kept going. Going and going, moving forward despite the dull ache in his chest that Katsuki had left.

Months passed, seasons changed.

He designed new desserts, scrapped them, kept some, and changed his mind. He laid out a design for a new bakery. He scrapped that design too. He made a new one, ordered ovens, refrigeration units, and display cases. He put his sixty day notice in at his apartment. Going, going, going.

He lived, he dreamed, he planned. Eijirou moved forward instead of letting his life stay on hold. Just like he promised, just like he said he would.

For himself, for his future with Katsuki, for his life with Natsumi, for the stolen life of Emiko. He lived.

And he thought of Katsuki and Natsumi with each step forward he took.

—

Katsuki had assumed Eijirou had come to his senses about them after four months had passed by. They still texted occasionally, usually about a new menu item, or a milestone from Natsumi.

While his world had been overflowing with Daycare, and play dates, and parenting courses, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss Eijirou. Part of him wondered if it had been a mistake to tell the other man to think about it. If he’d perhaps thrown away something wonderful once again when he was trying to do right by Eijirou.

Maybe he scared him away once he showed his true reality. The ugliness of grief, the difficulty of raising a baby, the frustration of being with someone like Katsuki.

He didn’t blame him of course. Three year old daughters weren’t for the weak. Katsuki had to learn how to be a dad, had to learn how to live without his sister, had to learn how to be a single parent to a little girl at twenty four years old.

That was a stress he’d never wish on anyone, especially not Eijirou.

So instead, Katsuki taught himself how to live again.

He started small. Getting his baby into a good daycare, and making sure she acclimated well to the city. They went on walks, they explored museums and nature preserves, they busied themselves at public libraries and read all of their favorite books Eijirou had loaned them.

Then he took a demotion at work. Which was really fucking hard. His boss was disappointed at first, but after hearing about Emiko passing, and Natsumi joining him, he backed off. If anything he was kinder, gentler, more understanding to the situation.

Katsuki also forced himself to be interested in self care. He lit his candles, opened the blinds, got flowers for all his rooms, got a new skincare routine. He invested in a chapstick that was way too expensive but hyped up by Ochako.

He stopped drinking, smoking, and having meaningless sexual encounters.

And for the first time in a while, none of this was put in place to distract him from Eijirou. Maybe it had started out that way, maybe he didn’t want to think about Eijirou so he joined the parenting classes or called Ochako to talk about stupid shit like chapstick, but it didn’t stay that way.

No, Katsuki wanted to get better for himself, for Natsumi, for Emiko. He wanted to be better.

And four months after walking away from the love of his life, after four years and four months of being walked out on by the love of his life, after a year without Emiko.

Katsuki felt okay again.

The rock was still there, just like Eijirou said it would be. The discomfort of losing Emiko didn’t leave, but he was getting used to it.

“Dada,” Natsumi pulled him out of his thoughts, tugging on his hand as she tore through her basket of bed time stories.

He’s slowly morphed into Dada after three years of going by a silly little nickname Natsumi had given him when she was still learning how to talk. He’s not sure how he feels about it yet.

Some days there’s a guilt weighing heavy in his chest, because it almost seems as if he’s overwriting her mother. Taking a place that wasn’t supposed to be up for grabs.

Other days, he’s okay with being dad. Other days he needs to be dad. He needs to be reminded that someone here needs him. That he’s got a purpose. That there’s a reason he loosened his grip on work and vanished from a life of partying.

“This one? Really?” He raised his brows as the little girl shoved a book in his hands.

It’s the one Eijirou had read to them that very first night. The one that put both their minds at ease when all they could think about was grief.

The little girl nodded her head as she cozied herself up in bed. Katsuki hummed before flipping open the book and reading slowly.

He’d anticipated a lot of changes that would bother Natsumi. The change from a staircase to their apartment to an elevator. The change in daycare. The change in scenery.

But Katsuki hadn’t anticipated how much his daughter would actually miss Eijirou too. She asked about him weekly, if not daily. Silly questions like how many cookies he ate today, or which bed time story he read tonight.

It was strange how fast she attached herself. It only made Katsuki question if what he’d done was right.

Not long after Natsumi closed her eyes to sleep, a knock on his door had him standing up. He checked the clock, which read a little past eight at night. Katsuki wasn’t expecting any guests.

He opened the door with a frown, daring whoever stood in front of him to fuck with his daughter’s sleep schedule.

“Deku?” He raised a brow. “The hell are you doing here? Natsumi’s already asleep.”

His best friend gave him a knowing, almost excited smile, though he couldn’t say what for. Was today a holiday? Fuck, was it his birthday? Did he miss something in his text messages?

“I’m here to babysit,” Deku smiled.

Katsuki furrowed his brow in utter confusion. He checked his watch, triple checking that it was indeed eight at night. Was Deku drunk? Katsuki hadn’t touched alcohol in over a year, surely he’s in his right mind right now.

“Did you hit your fucking head at the school again? I told you not to climb on those desk when your hanging shit—“

Deku shook his head before laughing giddily, like a fucking child, “No, Kacchan. I’m going to watch Natsu for a couple of hours.”

And before Katsuki could get another word in, another body stepped out into the door frame.

His breath caught in his throat, as Eijirou came into view.

“And /you’re/ going to go on a date with me,” the redhead smiled.

It was him. He was here. Eijirou was here in the city, the city he’d always dreamed of. Katsuki couldn’t hide the smile that crawled through his features.

He yanks the shorter man into a hug, completely ignoring Deku, who slipped inside his apartment.

“You idiot,” he whispered into Eijirou’s neck.

The other man’s hug was the same as it always was. Firm, sturdy, trustworthy. Katsuki had memorized the feel for it years ago.

When he pulled away, Eijirou was quick to take his hand, and guide him into a direction of the city Katsuki had never been. He didn’t get to do much exploring now that he had Natsumi. Instead of hitting up busy streets like this one, or visiting bars and clubs, Katsuki usually found himself at a children’s science museum, or the local park.

They walked in relative silence for a while, and it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable.

The only discrepancy was Katsuki’s brain, and the way it begged for more answers.

If Eijirou was here, what did it mean? He’d come back to Katsuki, after all this time, after four months of being separated by an hour and a half drive. When he’d left, he’d given Eijirou an ultimatum. He’d told Eijirou to live his dreams, to think about what he wanted.

And Katsuki wanted nothing more than to selfishly ask for that answer right now.

“How is everything?” Eijirou broke the silence first as they lazily walked along the foreign sidewalk.

Katsuki nodded his head, “Good. Better. I feel better.”

“Rock still there?” Eijirou asked.

He wondered if Eijirou knew how much that analogy had saved Katsuki. He wondered if the redhead knew that everyday Katsuki thought about the rock in his shoe, the grief in his heart, and remembered that some days it would hurt and some days he wouldn’t feel it.

“Always,” Katsuki bit his bottom lip before smiling softly. “But it’s like you said. It’s manageable. Sometimes I forget it’s there.”

And then they were back to walk in that same, loaded silence, where there was so much to say, yet nothing expected at all.

“So where are you taking me?” Katsuki asked.

They weren’t exactly far from Katsuki’s apartment, but it was a new area for him, and honestly he was a bit lost. There were still crowds of people out, which was probably normal for people who didn’t have babies with strict eight pm bedtimes.

Eijirou grinned, “It’s a secret.”

He squeezed Katsuki’s hand as he continued to pull him along. Katsuki let himself be dragged. As he did, he watched the way gorgeous red locks blew in the wind. His hair was down, half up in a big like it always was after a long day of work.

“That’s not startling at all,” he rolled his eyes.

“What, you’re scared of little ole me?”

“Well I haven’t seen you in a couple months,” Katsuki shrugged his shoulders.

At that, Eijirou turned around to give him a knowing look. “You told me to give it time.”

So he did remember.

Katsuki swallowed in anticipation, but Eijirou didn’t say anything else. Instead he just kept dragging Katsuki through crowds of people around their age. It was a safe area, a good one that Katsuki had heard a lot about but never visited. The night life was booming, the scenery was beautiful, the people were artsy and interesting.

“You could’ve become an axe murder in your free time,” Katsuki joked.

“Nah, I did something else instead,” Eijirou chuckled.

And then suddenly the redhead stopped in a darker area. It was in front of a random building, one that sat closed with a sign that said to come back tomorrow morning.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Katsuki raised a brow.

But Eijirou didn’t respond. Instead, he rose to his toes and grabbed a key from the top of the door frame, hidden to any others who may pass by, but obviously not hidden well enough if Eijirou found it.

Katsuki felt his guts scramble a bit. If he wasn’t a father maybe this would be different, maybe he’d enjoy the thrill of breaking and entering. But all it did was make him nervous.

“Uh, Ei, I don’t know if trespassing is much better than axe murdering,” he tried.

The last thing he needed was to get arrested when he had a baby at home.

But again, the redhead just laughed before opening the door to the closed shop and beckoning Katsuki to follow him inside.

“Come on,” the shorter man called, when Katsuki’s feet stayed glued to the floor.

This is what normal twenty four year olds did. They were reckless and made poor choices and didn’t care about the outcome. This is how Katsuki should be. He should be spontaneous, and daring.

But he’s nervous.

He walked inside the building guiltily, feeling like he’d done something dirty as he stood in the center of the dark lobby.

“What are we doing,” he said quietly.

The lights were off, save for the emergency exit sign on the wall and the street lights from outside pouring in from a nearby window.

Eijirou walked to an area Katsuki couldn’t see, and flicked on the lights. He squinted as the room lit up. As his eyes adjusted, he looked around slowly.

And somehow it looked familiar. Not like a place he’d been to before, not even a place he’d seen in pictures.

Just one that he’d heard about. One that was deeply ingrained in his brain for reasons he couldn’t even remember.

Eijirou walked over with a big smile plastered on his face. He grabbed Katsuki’s hands gently, pulling them close to his chest so that the blonde would look him in the eyes.

“We’re standing in my bakery.”

Katsuki raised his brows at the other man, jaw dropping before he could stop himself.

“What the fuck?”

His eyes scanned the room. The soft blue tiled floors, the bookshelves lining one wall, the cozy wall of mugs for coffee, the small wooden tables for guests. It’s all here. Katsuki checked off every box in his brain, every list he’d memorized over the years of listening to Eijirou talk on and on about his bakery.

This was it. It was exactly what Eijirou hallways craved, what he’d always wanted.

“Holy shit, Ei,” Katsuki shouted. Nothing could stop the smile splitting his face. Nothing could calm the race of his heart or how full his chest felt from just how proud he was of the other man.

He yanked the shorter man’s shoulders down, pulling Eijirou’s head down to ruffle his hair aggressively.

“You fucking did it! I knew you could fucking do it, Red,” Katsuki cheered.

Eijirou laughed hard before yanking his head free.

“I did it,” he cheered, much quieter. “The official grand opening is tomorrow.”

His hands slowly found their way down to Katsuki’s waist, pulling the blonde closer until they were only a few inches from each other.

“But I was hoping you’d be my first customer,” he nodded over to one of the tables that had been set with a plate of pastries and a cup of something warm.

Katsuki’s heart melted. Even the mugs were spot on. Exactly the strange shapes Eijirou had specifically wanted when he was nineteen.

“Cheesy motherfucker,” he scrunched his nose before walking over to the table.

Katsuki wasted no time in sitting in the chair, the perfect fucking chairs that Eijirou had picked out when he was eighteen, and saved in an online shopping cart in his bookmarks on his computer. Eijirou was quick to join him in the seat across.

The first bite into the pastry on his plate was heaven. Katsuki would be lying if he said tears didn’t come to his eyes. Not just from the food, but from the fact that Eijirou had fucking done it.

He’d reached his dreams, he’d made them his goddamn reality. Katsuki was so fucking proud of the other man.

“Fuck, this is amazing,” he said through a mouthful of something sweet. He hadn’t even waited to ask what it was exactly.

Sue him, it’s been four months since he’d gotten a Kirishima Eijirou original treat.

Eijirou laughed regardless, and for a while the two of them sat quietly. Katsuki admiring the shop and taking in all of its features, Eijirou sitting thoughtfully, biting his lip as he pieced together thoughts.

“I really fucked up with you.”

Katsuki paused from chewing to look up at the other man. Eijirou’s face looked gutted.

He hadn’t known what to expect when Eijirou took him out on a date, but it definitely wasn’t this. It definitely wasn’t to see Eijirou looked so heartbroken over the same shit.

How would they ever escape this.

“I did too,” Katsuki mumbled as he swallowed the last bite of his food.

He wiped his fingers on the napkin at his side before settling back in his seat. What could he say? It was partially his fault things ended the way they did all those years ago. He’d told Eijirou that months ago. They’d both fucked up pretty bad.

Eijirou pursed his lips, deep in thought before he shook his head in apology.

“Watching you leave, even with the explanation, was one of the most painful things I’ve ever had to sit with. It was only four months, but it destroyed me.”

His chest pinched at the admission, and again Katsuki was left wondering if leaving was a bad call. If maybe he’d ended up hurting them more than saving them. If this new separation had been the final nail in their coffin.

“I don’t know how you can ever forgive me for leaving without any warning,” Eijirou smiled sadly at him.

Katsuki let out a shaky breath. Not because he was sad, or surprised, or overwhelmed to be talking about this again.

But because it didn’t hurt anymore. Because he could talk about the fact that Eijirou left him all those years ago, and it didn’t cause a breakdown.

Yeah, Eijirou left him, and yeah, Katsuki fucking ignored him. But they both still loved each other. They both wanted to fix this.

Or at least, they had before Katsuki left for the city again.

“It’s not your decision,” he told the redhead.

Because it wasn’t, truthfully. Forgiving Eijirou was Katsuki’s choice to make and nobody else’s. People could gripe and moan over how stupid he was being. They could say Eijirou didn’t deserve a second chance or that forgiveness was the wrong answer.

It didn’t matter to Katsuki. Forgiving Eijirou was his choice to make, and he’d already done it months ago.

Eijirou nodded his head in response before once again going back to teetering with the thoughts in his brain.

Not long after, they took their leave from the bakery. Eijirou walked him home in silence, and though it should’ve felt happy, all Katsuki could do was wonder what Eijirou was thinking.

As they rounded the corner of his apartment, hand in hand, Eijirou finally spoke softly. So soft that Katsuki almost didn’t catch it with the busy street nearby.

“So I did what you said,” he mentioned.

Katsuki frowned in confusion as they walked through the lobby and towards the elevator.

Eijirou squared his shoulders to face him. His jaw was set, chiseled and flawless. His eyes were full of devotion and something else that Katsuki was having trouble placing as they looked at each other.

“I gave it time. I thought about what I really want in this life,” the redhead said nervously.

And Katsuki hung on to every fucking word.

Because this was it.

His heart would either be broken or filled with this response alone. Eijirou would either tell him he was ready for this, for him, for them, or he’d tell him they were right for separating. That he was better off without Katsuki and Natsumi.

“I bought the store front in the city, I’m opening my bakery, I moved into an apartment just a few blocks down,” Eijirou explained.

Katsuki could hardly register the ding of the elevator as his ears rang. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted this—/them/— until this very moment, when he might be told he can’t have it.

They stepped inside, and Katsuki half remembered to click the sixth floor to the building.

“And it’s still you,” Eijirou breathed out.

“What?” Katsuki practically squeaked.

He needed clarification. He needed an answer. He needed to know exactly what it meant, exactly what Eijirou wanted.

The redhead got closer despite their already close proximity, and grabbed Katsuki’s limp hand.

“You’re still the thing I want most in this world. You and Natsumi, you’re it for me.“

His ears rang, his fingers buzzed, his body moved on its own until he was lunging forward to capture the other man’s lips on his own. In doing so he accidentally clicked the third and fourth floor of the building, causing the elevator to stop on floors that weren’t necessary.

But neither of them cared as their lips pressed against each other. Eijirou’s lips were cold from the weather, and chapped from anxiously picking at them.

Their lips met softly at first, like a question. But the moment stretched, deepened, and soon it turned hungry. His hand cradled the back of Eijirou’s neck as the redhead gripped the back of Katsuki’s shirt. The kiss grew desperate, like something found after being deemed lost for good.

When the elevator opened to the sixth floor, they broke apart, but just barely. Just enough for Eijirou’s warm breath to hit the bottom of Katsuki’s lips and his big calloused hands to creep underneath the blondes shirt.

“It’s not my dream if you’re not here with me,” Eijirou choked out as tears lined his lower eyelids.

Katsuki pulled him from the elevators fidgeting with his keys as he opened the door to his apartment. He was quick to thank, and then shoo a blushing Deku, who knew all too well what had just transpired in the elevator.

After he shut and locked the door, Eijirou and Katsuki were left alone in the dark living room. They were both panting, and as Eijirou walked closer to him once more, Katsuki felt a nervous pinch in his stomach.

The redhead's hand caressed his face before resting at the nape of his neck.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? For me?” Katsuki felt himself ask, despite his internal battle with himself.

He wanted nothing more than to once again act like a stupid twenty five year old. To take Eijirou to bed and forget the rest of the world for the night.

But his baby girl is sleeping in the other room, and she far outweighs any frivolous desires Katsuki may have.

Eijirou pressed another chaste kiss to his mouth before pulling away. He pressed his forehead against Katsuki’s swaying them both slightly in the dimly lit living room.

“I am,” the redhead whispered.

But Katsuki was nothing if not a nervous wreck. Once he got to thinking he didn’t stop.

“She needs stability. She can’t handle you coming and going when shit gets rough, and it will be rough sometimes. I don’t want to drag you into my world if you’re not ready to be /in/ it,” he rambled.

Eijirou nuzzled his nose to Katsuki’s own, smiling softly as he murmured, “If I wasn’t ready I wouldn't have come back.”

He pulled back just enough for their eyes to meet. Just enough for Katsuki to miss the warmth of his breath and body against his own.

“I’m ready, Kats. To be your boyfriend, to be your life partner, to be yours,” Eijirou said honestly. “And I’m ready for Natsu too. However she’ll have me, I’m ready for that responsibility.”

Katsuki felt his face heat up at the pure emotion tearing through his chest. Just last year, his life was a wreck of alcohol, and sex, and total loneliness. He’d never in a million years have thought that his life would become something like this.

Something worth living for.

His bottom lip wobbled, and from the way Eijirou’s face softened Katsuki knew he was probably crying. The shorter man pulled him into a hug, pressing soft kisses to Katsuki’s neck before trailing up to capture his lips once more.

“She’s gonna be so happy,” Katsuki said through trembling lips. “Please don’t take that away from her.”

Eijirou smiled before kissing him again, “I won’t. I promise.”

Soon Katsuki was wrapping his arms around Eijirou’s neck, as the other man was lifting him up. Their lips met again, hungrier, greedier as they turned the corner to Katsuki’s bedroom.

Eijirou yanked off his own shirt before crawling on top of him, pressing his full weight onto Katsuki until all he could think about was the man above him.

“I love you,” he felt himself say.

It slipped from his mouth suddenly, like it had been sitting there for years, just waiting for the right time. Because it had been. Katsuki had always loved the man above him, and he probably always would.

Eijirou smiled before kissing him intently.

“I love you too.”

__

Katsuki breathed in the cool autumn air, willing himself not to get queasy again like he had on the car ride over here.

“Ready?” Eijirou asked him, patting his back softly with one hand as he held Natsumi’s with the other.

Katsuki let out a loaded sigh before closing his eyes.

“No, but I have to go.”

“Take your time,” Eijirou nodded.

The redhead walked off in the opposite direction, handing hands with their daughter as they made their way to the park. The picnic basket weighed heavily in Natsumi’s arm, but she insisted on holding it, and Eijirou was nothing if not a supportive father.

Katsuki grit his teeth before turning back around to stare at what was in front of him.

His parents had kept her grave so beautiful. A nice tombstone, reminiscent of his soft features and classy personality.

He sat down in front of the grave, placing the flowers in front of it gingerly.

“Hi Em. Long time, no see.”

There was no response, obviously. Emiko had been dead for just over two years now.

It’s his first time visiting her grave since they lost her. With all the moving around and getting his daughter acclimated to life he hasn’t gotten a chance to visit.

It was also just impossible to stare at the ground that swallowed his sister up. This dirt wasn’t her, and neither was the body six feet under.

But maybe her soul was around, and maybe she appreciated the flowers he left for her.

Katsuki sighed as he thought about where he should start.

“We’re okay now, Me and Natsu. We’re doing better than we were when you first left us. It still doesn’t feel real, I’m sure we both think about you everyday, but it’s easier.”

The wind blew softly, pushing his bangs into his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair as he stared at the chiseled name of Emiko on the tombstone.

It wasn’t the same. It would never be the same as seeing his sister's cheery face. She was always so much better at smiling than him. Some days he tried to mimic her for Natsumi’s sake. He’d try to smile earnestly, trying to be unapologetically kind the way Emiko used to be.

“She’s starting kindergarten. Those last two years kinda flew by. I taught her everything she needs to know. She’ll be the smartest five year old in the room,” he told his sister.

He smiled as he recalled those memories himself. Teaching his daughter the alphabet, showing her how to write Natsumi, Katsuki, Eijirou and Emiko. Counting the cookies her father made at the bakery and then subtracting the two they got to eat when they came fresh out of the oven. Learning about bugs, and other animals, and why they look the way they look.

She was smart, and she was hungry to learn more. Natsumi had grown into a wonderful five year old.

“But don’t worry. She’s humble, unlike me. Her other dad taught her that,” Katsuki shrugged as he smiled.

His fingers played with the ring sitting on his finger, anxiously trying to calm himself as he remembered the big news. Recalling how happy he’d been when Eijirou had bought him a ring and gotten down on one knee, and how heartbroken he’d been moments later when he realized he could call his sister.

“It’s Ei, by the way. I’m sure you already knew that, since you were always the one scolding me about him. You were right, fucker. It was all a big misunderstanding. It could’ve been fixed with a stupid conversation.”

He blinked rapidly, trying and probably failing to keep his emotions at bay.

“We get married in September. It’s just something small and stupid, but Eijirou insisted on doing something special. You were supposed to be my best man— or woman I guess— but you’re dead so instead it’s going to have to be shitty fucking Deku.”

His voice cracked despite the way he tried to joke with her, “Thanks a lot for that.”

The ring on his finger twisted easily as he watched it, desperate for a distraction, or perhaps a bit of comfort as he talked to his sister for the first time in two years.

“I wish you could be here,” he mumbled through cloudy vision. “I wish you weren’t dead.”

It’s gotten easier, the rock in his shoe. The grief had gotten a little more manageable as time passed. He had Eijirou to help him through it. Always ready to cry, or cuddle, or both. He had therapy to teach him how to live alongside his grief. No more forgetting meals, or focusing solely on his daughter instead of himself.

But sometimes that damn rock in his shoe still hurt like a mother fucker.

He wiped away the stray tears as he smiled at her tombstone, “Nothing will ever replace Natsumi’s Mama, but I promise I’m doing my damn best to be a good father for her.”

Natsumi still asked about her sometimes, but he can slowly see her memory of her mother starting to fade. This year, Natsumi will have officially been alive longer without her mother than with her. She died when Natsumi was two, and now she’ll be five. It’s been three years without Emiko.

But even with a fading memory, Eijirou and Katsuki never stop talking about her Mother. About how silly, kind, and smart Emiko was. About how much she adored Natsumi. About how wonderful it is that Natsumi came from Emiko.

It’s all he can think to do as he watched her memory begin to fade from her own daughter’s mind. She’d never have another mother.

“I hope you’re proud,” he sighed, as he stood up. “Of Natsumi, of me, of yourself for leaving such a wonderful gift to us.”

There wasn’t much more he could say when she wasn’t there to throw in a snide remark, or a sarcastic sigh. He missed that. Missed how annoying she was.

“I wish that we could walk out of here together and meet them at the park for lunch. It’s crazy the way Eijirou competes with the fucking sun. You’d crack up if you saw him next to someone like me.”

And she would. She’d never get over the fact that Katsuki was marrying Eijirou. Marrying her favorite boy. Marrying the person she’d always wished Katsuki would reach out to.

He’d fixed it, just like she’d always known he would.

“I love you. I’ll see you again soon,” he nodded before wiping away the last of his tears and leaving the cemetery.

Today they’d gone back to that small town that they’d outgrown all those years ago. They still lived in the city, but now they had a house, with a yard for Natsumi to play in, and a big dining room for family dinners.

But for the sake of Emiko, they’d gone back to the town she lived in, and visited her grave site as the two year anniversary of her death approached. They’d packed up a picnic, and told Natsumi they’d visit a new park. One that her mother used to play at.

She wasn’t old enough to see her mother’s grave yet. Katsuki feared it would only scare her to know that her mama was under all that dirt. When she was older, and understood more, he’d take her.

Instead, he met them in the field of the park, and slouched down on the picnic blanket next to his fiance.

“You okay?” Eijirou smiled as he laced their fingers together.

Katsuki gave his hand a squeeze before his eyes searched for his daughter.

“No,” he mumbled.

Natsumi spotted him at the same time that he found her. She ran through the tall grass with a huge smile on her face. It lit up the whole world with just how bright it was. It looked just like Emiko’s. Sometimes, on his hardest days, he’d look at his five year old daughter and truly see his big sister, back when he was just a baby and she was a five year old.

“Daddy,” she cheered as she held out a handful of flowers she’d picked out in the open field near the park.

Eijirou gasped as she handed the makeshift bouquet to him.

“Wow, this looks amazing. You’re so talented Natsu,” he complimented as he assessed them. Probably making sure there was nothing poisonous, but she didn’t need to know that.

“It’s for mommy,” she told him, with raised brows. She pulled them back from Eijirou’s hands and instead placed them on the empty spot of the picnic blanket.

“I’ll put it right here for her,” Natsumi grinned.

Katsuki felt his own eyes well with tears once again. She should be here to see this. She should be sitting right across from him, teasing Katsuki about the engagement and reminding her daughter not to go too far.

“Good idea,” Eijirou smiled, hand finding Katsuki immediately. “Now go play, we won’t be out here for much longer.”

He took comfort in the other man’s hand as it squeezed his once again. There were words for things like this, both of them knew. Eijirou didn’t have to tell him he’d be okay, because Katsuki knew he would be. Eijirou didn’t have to comfort him and remind him that Emiko is always all around him, because Katsuki knew that too by now.

Instead he pulled his hand towards his lips and pressed a soft kiss to Katsuki’s hand.

“You did good, Kats,” he said softly.

And Katsuki nodded. Natsumi was clothed, fed, healthy and active. He did well with the basics she learned when she was just a baby.

But Eijirou taught their daughter so much more.

Like what it meant to be dependable, and how far kindness can go. Eijirou taught her how to love openly, and how important it was to talk about how she felt, even if it didn’t feel good all the time. He showed her how to grieve in a healthy way, and taught her how to comfort her grieving father as well.

She was turning out so well. Growing into a tiny person that her mother would’ve truly adored.

“We did good,” Katsuki nodded in confirmation.

Soon the wind blew a bit too hard, and sent the flowers flying towards Katsuki.

But as they slowly dispersed, they lingered all over Katsuki. One on his shoulder, one on his chest. One on his cheek and a few in his hair. All over. Gracing him. Soothing him.

A soft gush of air that somehow felt like his sister was truly there. Like she was reminding him that she truly was always there. In the wind, in the flowers, in the air all around him.

And for a moment, he could’ve sworn he’d heard it as the wind whisked past his ears.

A small whisper.

A thank you, from Emiko.