Chapter Text
The world was quiet. Heavy snowfall muffled all sounds from the forest and Eijirou woke up to a warm blanket of silence. He used to wake up earlier, with a smell of breakfast and coarse yelling telling him to get down to eat. With a wake up kiss and muffled complaining about morning breath.
He hasn’t woken up to that in a while.
He opens his eyes and finds that he had rolled over to the left side of the bed during the night. He supposes it doesn’t matter anymore, it has been a while since the left side of the bed was occupied by anyone other than him. The bed is all his now, there is no sense in dividing it anymore.
The sheets have lost Bakugo’s scent months ago, but if he closes his eyes tightly enough he can still pretend he smells it. A mix of sweat and spices. Of safety and home.
The left side of the bed remains cold every morning but it is still Bakugo’s side of the bed.
It is quiet.
Eijirou drowns the silence out with the radio and the sizzling of eggs. News drone on and Eijirou is attentive, but nothing too exciting seems to be going on. It’s a quiet house, in a quiet village. Nothing exciting has happened since some wild dogs slaughtered a few chickens from the farm on the edge of the forest. Eijirou checks his freezer. It’s a bit too empty, telling him he needs to do his shopping soon, but there are enough chicken breasts there to make his lunch. He decides to eat in the village anyway.
He could use the company.
He styles his hair and gets dressed. Sturdy work clothes and thick boots that snow won’t leak through. He promised Sero to help reinforce the fence around his house. Sero lives pretty close to the forest and he doesn’t want his rabbits to become a target of the dogs.
He shrugs on his winter coat.
Bakugo’s is still there too, thorn and useless as it was back when Eijirou found it in the snow. He washed it, stitched up what he could. Hung it on the coat rack. He has no intention of throwing it away, no matter how much his friends tell him to let go.
He locks the door. Leaves the key under the mat. No one but him uses it anymore but old habits die hard.
He heads to the village.
Eijirou lives a bit ways off from the village, in a little cottage nested at the base of the mountain. It was Bakugo’s dream spot. Away from people and annoyances of socialization, but not far enough that Eijirou’s own more extroverted needs wouldn’t be met. Just at the edge of the forest that turns into a mountain. They had so many dates up on those rocks. Bakugo never looked happier then when he was figuring out a tough climb. Eijirou missed it. He hadn’t climbed the mountain in ages.
He just couldn’t bring himself to do it alone.
He debates starting up his pickup truck for a few minutes but decides against it. The road is pretty frozen and he doesn’t want to bother with it today. Besides, he could use a walk to clear his head.
The snow crunches under his boots and his thoughts crunch in his head. The walk to the village isn’t that long, but it seems longer when he does it alone. A year ago it would pass in a heartbeat made out of a too loud voice and a hand clutched firmly into his. He doesn’t even bother to think, even though he tells himself he takes the walks so he can think. He just feels. Feels the cold biting his cheeks, sees sun glinting off of snow, hears howls in the woods, loud and longing.
Eijirou longs too.
The village is lively. After the silence of the house it’s almost startling. There aren’t as many people out as during spring, when they are selling fruits of their labor at every corner. In the winter most are closed in from the wind, huddling around the fire, stories being passed around from grandparents to grandkids. It is still a lot livelier than in the house.
Eijirou cannot explain the feeling that curls in his gut.
He supposes it might be loneliness.
Or just more longing.
Sero greets him before he can even enter his courtyard, patting his back and scolding him for showing up only for work. It takes Eijirou a minute to realize he really hadn’t seen his friends just as friends for over a week. He had been too stuck in his head, too stuck in his longing. He apologizes to Sero, tells him he’ll come by tomorrow too, not to fix the fence, just to catch up. Sero tells him Mina and Kaminari miss him too.
Eijirou knows.
Sero smiles widely, smiles freely, but Eijirou has known him for years. There is still sadness tugging at that smile. Maybe not as much sadness as it is pity.
Sero asks him if he needs anything.
Eijirou says he is good.
They reinforce the fence.
It is a dull job, made a bit more interesting as Sero gossips about everyone in village. Other than the radio, he is Eijirou’s main source of information. For some reason Sero seems able to get himself involved in every single thing that happens in the village. It’s the face he says, he blends into the crowds.
He tells Eijirou about how his rabbits are doing, how glad he is that he hasn’t been hit by the dogs yet. He tells Eijirou Mina had started waitressing in the local restaurant and talks him into having his lunch there, because Mina could really stand to see him. He tells him of things that weren’t in the news such as Aizawa’s farm getting hit by the dogs. Dragged off one his lambs, Sero says, so he roped Kaminari into combing through the forest for him. Aizawa has a nasty habit of holding grudges, even if they all know he’ll never see that lamb again. Sero says he just pities the dogs when Aizawa finds them.
And that’s the thing, Sero says and he sighs tiredly. Aizawa has been droning off the ears of anyone who would listen that it’s not dogs, its wolves, real life wolves, he’s sure, he’s seen this before.
And they both laugh because wolves have been extinct in Japan for years.
Once they are done with the fence the sun has already passed its high point and is slowly sinking towards west. They check on Sero’s rabbits and Eijirou even manages to pet one this time. Usually most small animals are reluctant around him. He supposes they are getting used to the scent.
It is a bit of an exaggeration to call the little diner a restaurant but they call it that anyway. Mina cheerfully brings him his meal and chats with him through almost the entire duration of it. There are a few patrons, too few to interrupt her. Most prefer eating at home.
She is just as worried as Sero, though she doesn’t try to hide it as much.
She pesters Eijirou about how he’s doing, is he eating right, he so rarely comes down to buy food, isn’t he lonely.
Eijirou is alright, but he is a little lonely.
With a gentle voice she suggests what all three of them have been suggesting for about six months now; to come down and live in the village. He is too far from all of them and living alone in that sad empty house really isn’t doing him any good.
It has been over a year since the forest took Bakugo.
He needs to let it go.
Eijirou thanks her for worrying but knows that he can’t. It is lonely and it is quiet and it is even a little sad.
But he can’t just abandon their home like that.
She gives him that look that lets him know she isn’t surprised by his answer but still wishes he answered differently.
The walk back home always hurts more than the walk to the village.
When heading to village he is heading towards people. It used to be the same for the house. But now he is just heading towards quietness. Halfway to the house and he rethinks Mina’s suggestion. Maybe he should let go. He has been living all alone for over a year, nothing to keep him company but the buzzing of the radio and ever fading scent of Bakugo in the nooks and crannies of their house. He is lonely, he admits to himself for the hundredth time. In the village he would be near his friends, near people that love him and care for him and wish for him to recover from his loss. They understand, they tell him, losing one’s fiancé to the forest is a traumatic thing, not something they expect him to bounce back from quickly, or at all.
But he needs to let go, they tell him.
Mina offers to come and help him pack up Bakugo’s things so he wouldn’t have so many reminders hanging around every way he turned. Sero offers him a room in his house, to stay in until he feels ready to be alone again, company would do him plenty of good. Kaminari searches the woods from top to bottom, hoping to find at least bits of the body so Eijirou could finally say goodbye.
None of them come to much fruition.
Still, Eijirou thinks, looking up at the mountains, so far away and uncaring of his longing, he could pack up his things, move down to the village, it wouldn’t make much difference at all.
A howl resonates through the trees and Eijirou decides to wait a bit more.
There is a butchered lamb on his porch.
Eijirou sighs, brings it in, skins and cuts it up, throws the unusable bits back into the woods.
He cross’s meat off his shopping list again.
It is already night.
He isn’t quite sure where the day went, but the moon is out, clear and sliver, shining in crescent above the mountain. Eijirou stands in front of his house, in the dark, counting the stars. He is wearing his coat but he is still shivering. The nights are cold and the only source of light he has is his flashlight.
He heads into the forest.
The snow crunches under his feet.
He walks for a long time and the world is quiet save from the snow and his own puffy breaths. It is dark as a grave inside the forest, his flashlight only lighting up enough steps ahead that he knows he’s going in the right direction. Winter has robbed most of the trees of their leaves, but this far up the mountain, the trees are off kind that greedily keep their leaves despite the winter chill. It’s dark and uneasiness settles in Eijirou’s stomach even though he knows there is nothing to fear.
It’s only natural to fear the dark.
Howling echoes throughout the woods, louder than it was the entire day. Dogs can howl alone but a group is preferable. This voice is all alone, loud and lonely and longing, singing its sorrow to the moon.
Eijirou closes his eyes for a briefest moment.
His heart sings to the moon as well.
There is a clearing in the woods, small and round and tucked away a good hour walk from his house. There is a river nearby, sliding off the mountain and supplying water to the village. Its flow is mostly obstructed by ice this time of year and it shines like a silver snake under the moonlight that lights up the clearing.
He and Bakugo used to go there all the time, having picnics, stopping by on their trip to the mountain and trying to catch the fish in the river which always ended in utter failure and at least one of them wet to the bone.
Eijirou clears off the freshly fallen snow from one of the bigger rocks that line the river, sits down and remembers those times. Remembers the springs spent in picking berries, the summers under the shades of the tree, the autumns and the searching for chestnuts, winter and the snowball fights.
He closes his eyes and he remembers and the howl echoes throughout the night and inside his heart.
The snow crunches but Eijirou isn’t the one moving this time.
He opens his eyes, turns on his rock.
The wolf is pale, not quite white almost yellowish in appearance, like the pebbles lining the rivers shore. His belly is white, the colors crossing out in an almost x like pattern across his chest. His eyes red, his teeth sharp, he sniffs the air carefully, lingering at the edge of the forest, just before the clearing starts.
Eijirou stands up.
The wolf watches him attentively.
Air is frozen in his throat, trepidation drumming over his heart.
“Katsuki.”
He says.
And the wolf lunges.
He is heavy, far too heavy, way heavier then he used to be and he traps Eijirou under that weight, nosing into his throat, giving a sharp lick over his cheek before he collapses on to his chest.
And Eijirou laughs.
And it is high and free and the wolfs howls, and Eijirou thinks he’s laughing too.
“Don’t scare me like that, I thought you forgot me.” He whispers, digging his fingers in Katsuki’s fur, trailing them over his shoulders and back.
Katsuki huffs and it sounds almost scolding, like he could ever forget Eijirou, let alone in a single night. Eijirou huffs back, like Katsuki even knows what he got himself into.
They lay down for a while, Katsuki warm and heavy on his stomach, nuzzling his snout into Eijirou’s neck and Eijirou back to the ground and not even minding the cold, brushing his fingers through Katsuki’s fur.
It is quiet again, but it’s a quiet made of their breaths entangling into each other and it is the warmest sort of quiet Eijirou experienced the whole day.
“You know, I’m really grateful you want to provide for me and all that, but you should really stop killing all the animals. Aizawa’s lamb, really? You are going to get yourself killed…” his words trail of in a broken whisper, his heart aching too much just thinking of that possibility and he clings to the feeling of Katsuki’s heart thumping over his chest as much as he can.
Katsuki lets out a half growl, clawing at the snow on Eijirou’s sides and baring out his teeth in irritation and it cheers Eijirou up, if only a bit, because Katsuki is as stubborn and bad tempered as ever.
“No arguing. I can take care of myself, promise. If you feel like hunting, hunt in the woods. It’s safer, don’t be such a troublemaker.” He scolds, burying his hands in the warm fur of Katsuki’s head and Katsuki huffs again but licks straight across his face, his huffs almost sounding like laughter as Eijirou recoils, gagging and wiping away drool from his face.
Eijirou takes it as agreement anyway.
Either way, he can’t have much of a fight when he is the only one with the voice.
He sighs and lets his head fall back down, watching the moon float above their heads. Katsuki tilts his head up too, observing the moon before he howls and it is loud and joyous and triumphant. Eijirou closes his eyes and in his heart he sings to the moon too. They sing to it in two different ways but they sing to it as one.
They both ask for the same thing.