Chapter Text
May
Everything was the same
Or better,
Everything could be the same.
But, with every step I take,
It’s there:
The smallest of changes.
Last year, nothing happened. The year before nothing happened. And the year before that nothing happened. That’s how it went the poem his grandmother used to recite to him when he was younger. He remembers himself, sitting on the kitchen stool while she cooked, to this day he can remember the smell, and he remembers the woman turning around and offering him a spoon to taste. She would smile, and read a poem out loud.
Of course, Katsuki wouldn’t understand, to this day he doesn’t understand most of them.
But this one in particular, this one he understands. His grandma explained at the time; it was written after the war, after the turbulent events that took place those years. He was confused, of course, how could someone say nothing happened? Grandma, though, shook her head, “It’s not as if we weren’t aware of what happened. It just seemed so distant.”
When May arrives, he understands it.
The past months seems so far away, everything that happened buried deep down, to never be touched again. No one seemed to care about what happened and his life was back to normal, still, there was something about last month that seemed vague, almost as if it never happened to him.
Last month, nothing happened.
This month, nothing would happen again.
On may, he thought about ending his own life. Not this may, though. It happened many mays ago, when he was still a teenager who wasn’t sure how to deal with it all - to this day, he isn’t sure. Even after so many year, he thinks about that day, when he was alone at home, falling into despair on his own bedroom.
He can’t remember what happened and probably nothing ever happened for him to act that way, but there’s it: it’s worse when there’s no reason behind it. It’s worse when he felt that way without something to blame. It was worse in the middle of the night, when he just couldn’t sleep because he felt that way, even if his thoughts weren’t depressing.
No one knew about how much he cried that night, on that may, how he thought about writing a letter, explaining everything, but what could he explain? What could he blame? No one but himself. No one knew about his thoughts, no one knew about that drowning sensation, about how much he wished for a boat to appear.
No one knew and that’s how it continued. Katsuki would take that day to his grave.
And no one noticed.
Maybe he caught Kirishima once or twice, staring at him with that worry Katsuki always hated, searching for any sign of self destruction on him. Little did he know Katsuki had many way to destroy himself, over and over.
Still, that happened many years ago, it doesn’t matter anymore and, honestly, Katsuki is not even sure why he keeps that memory, why it still scares him. Why it crawls into his mind every time May arrives.
And now, it’s May again.
He tries not to bother.
“I heard you two are texting” Midoriya casually said before they parted to work.
Katsuki glanced at him, quietly, blonde lashes covering most of his stare at the position his head leaned, “Who?”
“You and Shindo.”
There’s a shrug. “I guess.”
Midoriya laughs, but it ends up soon.
He’s quiet and Katsuki knows himself more than he should to know there’s something behind his silence, something behind his frown, something behind the fixed stare burning on his face.
He doesn’t ask, though. He waits.
And it’s the right to do; a few seconds later, when Katsuki gets up and takes both plates to the sink, Midoriya speaks, “I’m thinking about moving back. To my place, I mean. I was… I mean, I can stay longer, if you want to, you know that’s no problem for me, I just…”
Bakugou knows what he tried to say. He was just here to check up on his condition, though the greenette never admitted, he was here because he was worried and now that everything was coming back together, there was no reason for his stay anymore.
Besides, he could imagine it was uncomfortable for him, babysitting his childhood friend. A part of him didn’t wish for him to go so soon, but the other, the part that hated himself, could only remind how egocentric it would be to force Deku to stay.
He nods.
“Is that really fine, Kacchan?”
They are looking at each other.
“Yeah,” he pauses. “It’s fine.”
Nothing should have happened that month.
He goes back to his routine, to his morning runs, to hero work, the visits to the gym and the meeting with his friends he would usually have, when they called. Everything was fine and, if something was missing, it’s because it has always been. There’s a new addition to his routine, a new person who called him sometimes, in the middle of the night or during work, not bothering even if Katsuki would take days to answer, answering with the same silliness and excitement as ever.
So, when it happens, during his morning walk, he thinks it’s that person.
There’s a new text on his phone.
Unknown
[Are you busy?]
[yes]
[Can you make some time?]
No, I can’t, Katsuki thinks, but doesn’t reply it anyways. It’s not as if he always says what he thinks. Especially to that unknown in particular. Not anymore, at least. He can’t make some time for him, and neither he should.
[I want to see you]
He wants too, but he locks his phone and takes a deep breath, gulping before returning to his walk. It shouldn’t be cold in may, but the morning always have a chilly breeze, one that would make his sweat cold, one that would make his throat hurt for half an hour or so.
This time, he feels colder than usual.
“You should meet up with him” Ashido says and receives suspicious stares from the blonde, who stares at her with a lifted brow, dubious. “I mean, you two didn’t end up in the best terms and, dunno, you should’ve healed by now. A bit, at least. I think it would be good to find our his reasons or what he wants. If he wants to go back together, you can tell him no, if not, you two can talk.”
He’s not sure if he can meet Shouto now, he’s not sure if he would deny any invitation from him, also. However, he does want to know his reasons, what motivated him to break up like that, even if he doesn’t know if that will make him worse or better at all.
If it makes him better, great.
If not, he will learn how to live with it. He will adapt.
Humans are fascinating, thanks to their adaptability. They can survive at extreme situations, they can survive stressful situations, they can give their all and work anything out. And, surprisingly, they can do what no other creature can: deal with a broken heart. They can learn how to pretend, they can get used to the feeling of being used, left behind.
So, when Katsuki texts him back with a time and location, he’s sure he can learn how to deal with it.
They meet at night, on a bar Katsuki was always found of. None of his friends knew about that place, his secret location close to his apartment, where he would hide himself from the darkness of the night, hiding himself between a drink or two. Shouto knew, though he never bothered to tag along, knowing that, whenever Katsuki was there, it meant he wanted to be alone.
That’s where they agree to met that night.
When the blonde arrives, Shouto’s already there, a cup in hands, waiting. He looks up when Katsuki approaches and they acknowledge each other with a nod before Katsuki sits close, though aware of how close they are, wondering if he should get closer or maybe move a bit further. He never had to bother with it while they were dating.
Shouto doesn’t seem to mind, so he stay there, a seat from him.
“Hey” he starts, and Katsuki doesn’t answer. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”
“I’m here, ain’t I?”
“Yes, I guess you are.”
Their superficial talk is interrupted by the barman, who hands Katsuki’s favorite drink over to counter. He takes a sip and, this time, is he who starts the conversation, “Why did you send that?”
“Because I missed you.”
“After breaking up with me? That’s funny.”
Shouto frowns, but refuses to look at him, “It doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt me, also.”
It makes the blonde snort, taking another gulp, longer this time. He can feel the liquid burning down his throat, but it’s the least of his problems now. “What? Are you saying you still love me?”
“Can’t I?”
Katsuki doesn’t know how to answer.
“Me breaking up with you doesn’t mean I stopped loving you, Katsuki. You, from all people, should know that.”
Another gulp.
“You keep avoiding my question, Shouto” his voice was rough thanks to the drink, eyes focusing on his drink, refusing to look at the man next to him. “Do you still love me?”
Silence.
For a moment, Katsuki thinks about getting up and leaving. He thinks about blocking his numbers and refusing to ever meet again. But there’s something on his hesitation, something about the answer stuck on Shouto’s throat that doesn’t allow him to get up from that seat.
He waits.
“Yes” the blonde looks up, their eyes meeting for the first time that night. “I still love you, even now.”
He should be angry, he should yell, them him to fuck off. But he can’t. Looking away, his cup is now finished, and he can only mutter, “Why then?”
“You may have not noticed, Katsuki, but I did. We were too young at the beginning and we both know with what you were dealing at the time. Then we started dating and it was as if all your problems were gone thanks to me. I thought it was ok at the time, of course I did, if you were happy that was fine. But they were still your problems, things you should deal with it yourself.”
He wanted to leave.
“There’s some things only us can deal with, those we can’t run away from. You can try to forget about them, distract yourself with someone else, but they will come back at the end. You became too dependent on what he had, Katsuki, you also know that.”
His cup was already empty.
“I love you, Katsuki. But the problem is that, still now, you are unable to love yourself” and I can’t do it for both of us, the words were silently handed.
There’s much more Shouto wants to say. There’s much more to what he felt those years, under the pressure of receiving more than what Katsuki could give to himself. There was always a worry on the back on his mind, whenever Katsuki refused his affection, whenever he saw him drowning on his own abusive mind. He wanted to help but he knew he couldn’t; these things can be healed by the person themselves, Shouto knows it well.
Before loving someone else, you need to accept yourself.
They started too young, never taking a break to truly discover themselves, what they could be out of a relationship.
Shouto also finishes his drink.
When Katsuki wakes up in the middle of his night, the familiar face sleeping next to him, he hesitates getting out of bed, thinking about nothing at all, mind surprisingly blank as he gets up and searches for his clothes.
If Shouto woke up while he was dressing, he said nothing.
It was four in the morning and the streets were dark, being enlightened by the moon and the tiny sparkles in the sky.
On his way home that night, Bakugou counts stars.
There’s twenty-two waiting for him in the sky, but he believes there’s another one, the star with heterochromatic eyes that disappeared from his skies.