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Katsuki digs his hands deeper in his hoodie pocket.
He listens to the angelic voice that fills the grey city streets. As usual, the voice gathered a small crowd of late night commuters. Katsuki hangs at the back of the crowd, sitting on the railing that separates the road and the sidewalk.
There’s a new sticker on his guitar. It is another cartoonish All Might sticker and it sticks near the strings. Angel Voice would block the sticker’s smile every time he strums. It would appear, disappear, appear, and disappear. He stares at it as he listens in.
A woman in a pencil skirt approach Angel Voice, dropping a few coins in his opened guitar bag by his feet. Angel Voice opens his eyes at the noise then smiles sweetly at the woman. Her cheeks flush red, charmed.
Katsuki wonders if he would also smile like that if he drops a bill. Would his smile be bigger? Would he sing something special for Katsuki?
Green eyes scan the crowd that he gathered but it never stops at Katsuki. He doesn’t know if it makes him feel relieved or frustrated. He wants Angel Voice’s attention. Katsuki wants him to see him, sing something for him, sing along with him.
At the same time, he can’t have Angel Voice’s attention. He can’t have anyone’s attention.
It’s in his contract after all.
Rule #3: Trainees are not allowed to have any self-promotional accounts, fanbases, or make any actions that can bring publicity to them before debut.
Katsuki has always been a performer.
No, he’s not only a performer. He always have the starring role. He is always the star.
He can sing, dance, act— you name it. Katsuki can do it and it wouldn’t be mediocre, no, he would do it perfectly.
A natural-born artist. That’s what the judge for the play he auditioned once called him. He didn’t need lessons or any help. It would just come to him and that makes him better than others.
When he was fifteen, he finally took his chances in a national competition. It was broadcasted every Thursdays on national television. He was accepted and kept moving forward in every round.
He got into the finals and that was the only time his hand shook before a performance. His competitor is a petite girl with brown hair, round cheeks, and a sob backstory.
Apparently, that was also needed to win the hearts of the people.
Despite having a point higher in the judge’s scores, Katsuki lost.
That night was the first time he experienced failure, slapped by the reality he’s not perfect and there’s still something that has to be done for him to be better.
That night he trashed the small dressing room that was given to him, his parents knocking fervently, worried.
That night he got a business card from an idol agency. He accepted it, his face still puffy.
Two months later, he moved into that agency’s dormitory and starts his training.
Rule #2: Trainees are required to stay at the agency dormitories to ensure attendance to lessons and rehearsals and to build friendships with other potential idol debutants.
Angel Voice belts the last word like a close whisper, strumming the last notes on his guitar gentler than the last. Katsuki feels his chest tighten.
The crowd is silent and he hears most of them inhale heavily, their breath taken away. Then, they applaud. More coins are dropped to Angel Voice’s guitar case as the people whoops in amazement.
The performer grins, brighter than the smiles he sent to some lucky individuals from the crowd. He stands and bows before the applause dies down. Katsuki is already a few feet away from Angel Voice before he could even stand straight again.
He clenches his hands in his jacket pockets. The autumn nights are getting colder. He only hopes the heater in their dorm wouldn’t break down again this year.
He jogs up the building beside their agency’s building. Sneaking in and out from their building’s back door and parking lot is a big no, especially for trainees and idols. Overzealous fans wait in those corners hoping to catch their favorite celebrity at any moment.
The neighboring building is a boring finance office and it is dark and seemingly closed off at night. But their seniors taught the newbies how to sneak around the agency and not get caught. They spoke in a low voice and their eyes were wary for any staff or mentors to come their way.
It is one of the most important thing he learned when he started staying in the agency.
He reaches the connecting bridge in the fifth floor. The guard glances at him for a second before opening the passageway to him after he slips another 1000 yen on his desk.
Katsuki slows his pace when he steps in their building, silencing his steps and continues carefully to not get caught by any managers and staff. He curbs at one corner and almost broke his nose on a huge forehead.
“Fuck!” He curses, nursing his nose and upper lip. The person he bumped at also winces at the pain, massaging his forehead.
That hideous black hair is unmistakable. “Shitty Hair, what are you doing out?”
“I can say the same thing to you, Baku-bro.” He grins, teasing. A patch of skin is colouring red.
Katsuki glares at him. Normal people would turn away but Shitty Hair is not normal. His grin widens and his hair seems shittier than usual and his face is flushed. Despite being in the dark, Katsuki knows that the creases in his shirt aren’t from sleeping.
He wrinkled his nose as he walks away. “Gross.” Shitty Hair probably met up again with Pinky.
An annoyingly joyous laughter comes from behind him as Shitty Hair catches up. “Come on, you don’t have any right to be judgemental. You went out to see him again, right?”
Katsuki swings back for a punch but Shitty Hair is prepared for it, stepping aside from his trajectory with a chuckle.
“Shut up.”
Rule #4: Trainees are not allowed to leave the dormitories without any permission from the manager. It is also strictly prohibited to let any friends, family, or outsiders inside the dormitories.
The soup of the instant cup noodles soothes his inside against the cold of the midnight. Katsuki sighs in content.
He listens to the flipping of magazine pages from the counter. The college kid with bigger eyebags than him, something he did not know is possible, reads those dumb astrology magazines. Katsuki is sure that’s the second one he’s reading since he came in the 7/11.
It’s his first outing in two months. Training has been grueling since the managers made another cut off. They’re already picking trainees with the most potential to debut, Katsuki can feel it in how much more calculating the trainers and managers watch on them are.
It is a relief for Katsuki to catch him again. He still sings in that side of the intersection and gathers late-night commuters. That evening, he sang a more depressing song than what he usually sings but other than that, nothing much changed. As Katsuki listens to him sing, he feels the tension and expectations lift off from his shoulders.
He feels like Bakugou Katsuki again, not trainee number 119.
The store’s bell rings as another customer walks in, snapping Katsuki out of stupor.
He notices the smell of the meat buns again. Internally, he debates on buying one. The cup noodles did satisfy him but his stomach still feel a bit empty. The low hum of the steamer and savory aroma that fills the store sure do tempt him.
Katsuki walks to the meat bun steamer then grabs the tongs and a plastic wrapper beside of it. He knows he has to eat little to none in the next two days to keep his weight fit for the requirement. Opening the steamer, a fog fills his vision and he inhales the delicious smell.
Fuck it.
Clicking the tongs twice, he picks the most aesthetically pleasing bun and stuffs it to the plastic wrapper.
“Are you a drug dealer or something?”
Katsuki whips his head to the direction of the voice. His breath hitch in an instant.
There beside him is Angel Voice.
Angel Voice smirks at him. Katsuki quickly covers his shock with a frown.
“The hell you’re saying?” He growls, slamming the steamer door shut.
“I mean,” Angel Voice snatches the tongs from his loose grip and waves it to gesture at his all-black outfit (minus his blue ripped jeans), his hood up and his mouth mask pulled down to his chin. “You’re dressed up like some c-grade criminal.”
“Hah?”
Angel Voice just nods as he grabs his own meat bun, like he’s one-hundred percent assured with his observation. It’s irritating.
“At least I’m not dressed like some fucking hipster.” Katsuki spats.
Green eyes meet his own again, amused. It’s pretty under the harsh fluorescent lights. Katsuki hates himself for observing that.
Angel Voice looks down at his outfit. Green sweater, light blue pants, and white shoes. “I don’t think this counts as something hipster.”
Katsuki snorts, walking away. “Whatever. It’s still hideous looking.”
“Hey, don’t be so mean! You listen to my singing and you don’t leave any tips but I don’t give you any crap. Is this how you repay me?” He puts the meat bun beside Katsuki’s as the college kid scan the item. The kid looks back and forth to the both of them.
“Maybe your singing is not worth my money.” He rebuts with a smirk.
Angel Voice pouts and pushes his meat bun closer to his. The kid almost scans the other bun from his barcode sheet when Katsuki shouts.
“Hey! Pay for your own meat bun, you asshole!”
“No! You won’t come back again and again to my performances if you don’t like my voice so you better catch up to everything you owe me, asshole. ”
They stare at each other for a few stiff seconds. Angel Voice is losing some of his freckles and the green in his eyes look darker than the first time he met him.
He’s still so beautiful.
Eventually, Katsuki relents. “Fine.” Looking away to hand the cashier five-hundred yen with more force than possible.
Angel Voice grins at him in delight. “Thanks!”
Katsuki grunts in response. He could only glance at the smile before risking being blind.
Rule #5: Trainees have to follow the dietary plan and workout regime provided by the agency’s health and diet specialists.
A week later, they met again in the same convenience store.
Katsuki doesn’t recognize him at first. His dark curls are dyed green and with his back turned, Katsuki almost walked by.
He sneaks behind him, peeking at what he’s scribbling at the little yellow notebook spread out on the table. Angel Voice seems to be stuck in some kind of poem as he taps his the tip of his pen on the brown paper, the ink spilling messily.
“ I miss you. Saying this makes me miss you more, huh?” Katsuki reads the first and only two lines on the page.
Broccoli Head, yeah he’s definitely renaming him that, flinches and turns to face him, his eyes wide as saucers. His expression turns sour when he sees it’s Katsuki. He slaps the notebook close.
“You shouldn’t sneak behind people like that.”
Katsuki ignores the grumbled statement and lifts a foot to the chair across Broccoli Head. “What’s that for? Poetry class?”
His hands covers the little notebook, frown deepening. He mutters a response that Katsuki couldn’t quite catch.
“What was that?” He asks, leaning down on his level.
“I said,” His eyes seem brighter with his new hair colour. “I’m writing a song.”
Katsuki hums, straightening his back, unable to keep his gaze against him. “I think you should also sign up for art classes. The abstract ink art you’re making at the bottom would sell billions.”
Broccoli Head huffs in annoyance. “Well, I got a block okay? I’m stuck!”
He stares him down until Broccoli Head’s scowl turn into a pout. Katsuki then rolls his eyes and throws the white parka that is laying on the table to the freckled face.
“Wh-Wha-?” He sputters, pulling off the cloth from his face.
Katsuki nudges his head to the direction of the door. “Do you think you can find inspiration at a 7/11, dumbass?” Without waiting for Broccoli Head, he struts out of the store. The small bells attached to the door still ring as it close when the smaller man barge out.
He turns to his left, not bothering to even look back to Broccoli Head because he knows he would just be behind Katsuki’s heels. He heads towards the small park he always go to enjoy the peace and quiet of the outside world before he finally go back to his dorms. It’s a small patch of greenery in the middle of bleak grey and towering buildings.
Broccoli Head oohs when they reached the park. The cicadas chirp loudly around them, drowning out the noise of nearby traffic, and the fallen leaves are rustled by the wind.
“Is this where you’re gonna brutally murder me and bury my corpse by one of the trees?”
Katsuki howls with laughter. “I hope you’ll be a better songwriter in your next life!”
A punch came heavily on his arm. It’s not enough to bruise but hard enough to hurt. “You little-!” He spats but his words die down at his throat.
The dark cloud that hangs above Broccoli is no longer to be found. Instead, his expression seems relaxed and the corners of his eyes are telling Katsuki he’s amused. He giggles to his hand like some high school girl and that kind of look would normally annoy Katsuki but his companion looks absolutely adorable.
Katsuki ignores the increasing pace of his heartbeat.
Green meets burgundy and their breaths make a thin white fog. They stand in the middle of the park like they’re the only people in the world. They stay like that, for how long, Katsuki doesn’t know.
Then, the sky fell in forms of white, cotton-white puffs.
Broccoli blinks and follows the falling snow with his eyes.
Katsuki extends a hand to catch one. It melts quick in his hands. When he looks back to his companion, Broccoli is already scribbling something on his notepad. Once he’s done, he grins proudly at Katsuki as he walks nearer to him, a certain skip in his steps.
“What do you think of this?” He asks, opening his notepad to the page he written on.
The handwriting is messier than the first two lines. Imagining it as an actual song, Katsuki hums a tune he thought on the spot as he reads the words.
Like a small piece of dust
That floats in the air
If the flying snow is me
I could
Reach you faster
Snowflakes are falling
Getting farther away
“Well?” Broccoli Head looks at him expectantly. There are some snow in his curls.
Continuously humming his newly made tune, Katsuki shrugs. “It’s not bad.”
It’s a crappy review but Broccoli brightens up at his words, a small pleased smile stay on his lips and his cheeks are tinted pink.
Katsuki thinks he’s going to get a heart attack with how fast his heartbeat is.
Weeks go on like this for the both of them. They will meet at the 7/11 and it’s always Broccoli Head who gets there first. Usually, they would eat meat buns as a late dinner as they talk about everything and nothing.
Katsuki learns that Broccoli Head is currently out of school, saving money from his street performances and gigs at small bistros and bars for college. That he moved to the heart of the big city from the outskirts of the city to pursue his dreams in the music industry, a classic origin story. That he has a roommate at his small run-down apartment, a runaway rich kid that dyed his hair two colours to match his heterochromia.
In return, Katsuki tells him that he’s enrolled to an online school as he works for a demanding company. That he’s roommates with a guy that puts too much gel on his hair every morning and another guy that Katsuki only remembered because the guy somehow managed to electrocute himself on the first day at the dorms. That he can’t be caught outside because of his contract with the company.
Some nights, they both speak only sparingly. They would share an earbud as they listen in to Broccoli’s Spotify playlists. In those nights, Broccoli would scribble down on his notepad and Katsuki would either scroll on his phone with his secret, private social media accounts or watch Broccoli work with his brows furrowed in concentration.
Weeks go on like this for them and every night, Katsuki tries his damn best not to fall.
Rule #6: It is optional, although highly encouraged, for trainees to continue pursuing education. However, the agency wouldn’t be responsible for trainees’ school fees.
“Bakugou.”
Aizawa Shouta, one of the top producers in Yuuei Entertainment, stands at the side of the training hall, his gruff voice resounds in the room. Extras around him halt their movements to watch them.
Holding back a snort, Katsuki bows a bit to show respect to the most difficult person in the higher ups of their agency. He has to play nice to gain the favor of his superiors, even the irritating ones, to debut.
Aizawa nods in approval. “Come with me.” With that demand, he turns around and walks out of the training hall. Katsuki grabs his towel and water bottle, silently cursing, before jogging to catch up with the producer.
Afternoon sunlight fills the office, effortlessly spilling to the room with the floor to ceiling windows. It’s quiet except for the sound of flowing tea as Nedzu, the CEO of Y.E., pours him some in the fanciest teacup Katsuki have ever seen in his entire life.
“Bakugou Katsuki. You’ve been a brilliant young man ever since you joined our agency. No, you have been one even before.” Nedzu clasp his hands together, the small smile never leaves his face.
Katsuki gulps, his palms starting to sweat. “Thank you, Sir.”
Nedzu grabs a folder from a two-layer paper rack at the side of his table. “Your performance has always been superb, surpassing everyone’s expectations for a regular trainee. Well, you have never been one for being regular or normal, aren’t you?” He scans the content of the folder quickly them closing it with a soft snap.
“Many of our mentors compliments your skills, Bakugou. There was a minor hiccup with your attitude for a short while but you managed to fix that by yourself so I think we will not get any problems about that anymore, right?”
His heart pounds against his chest violently. He wonders if Nedzu or Aizawa who’s hanging at the back can hear it. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” Nedzu slides the folder to him. “It would be very foolish of us if we wouldn’t let you maximize your skill and potential.”
Katsuki slowly picks up the folder and opens it.
“What do you say about debuting in a group, Bakugou?”
Rule #7: Only those trainees that exhibit great talent and skill will be given a chance to debut. Cut off will be made irregularly and at the decision of the mentors.
Broccoli Head is already performing when he reaches the intersection.
He has a bigger crowd now compared to the number he gets for the past few months. People would always come back once they heard him sing.
Katsuki hops to sit on the railing. When he looks back to the performer, Broccoli is already looking at him. He brings his hands up like he’s also holding a guitar and pretended to lip sing. It made Broccoli stumble with a word as he stifle a laugh. He looks back to his crowd with an apologetic grin.
Dropping his hands on his lap, Katsuki settles down on his seat, making sure to balance himself properly to not fall off the railing. That night, Broccoli Head is singing something upbeat. Katsuki is sure it’s a pop song that he toned down to almost an acoustic.
The crowd is absolutely enraptured with his voice. He hears one of the women whisper “He sound like an angel” to her friends with a giggle. Katuski couldn’t help but agree.
Broccoli Head is Angel Voice after all.
The song finishes and the crowd enthusiastically applauds. Angel Voice cheeks tint pink from the praise. Timidly, he raises a hand and the applaud dies down.
“Uhm, this last song that I’ll perform is dedicated to my friend.” His gaze went to Katsuki as he speaks. “I’m the happiest when I’m with them and I will be forever grateful to them for patiently helping me with my songwriting attempts.”
He readjust his hold on his guitar with a bashful smile. Some people from the crowd notices that Angel Voice is looking at Katsuki and steps aside to give a clear view.
“This is for you.”
Angel Voice starts humming and Katsuki instantly recognizes the tune.
It was the one he made at the park months ago.
Then, the guitar starts.
I miss you
When I say that, I miss you more
I’m looking at your photo
But I still miss you
Time is so cruel
I hate us
Now it’s hard to even see each other’s faces
Angel Voice’s eyes never leave him and they’re full of emotions that Katsuki doesn’t want to name.
Never have a song make him feel so warm inside, not even All Might’s. Never have a song make him yearn for something he knows he couldn’t have. Never have a song make him want to break all his rules.
It scares him.
“You’ve been awfully quiet today. Is there something bothering you?” Angel Voice asks as they walk. He’s been eyeing Katsuki worriedly since he finished performing. Katsuki should’ve known he was being obvious. Angel Voice has been carrying their conversation the whole evening.
It feels unfair to drop this on the same night Angel Voice had done something special to him but Katsuki have to make a choice.
“I don’t think I could keep seeing you.”
Angel Voice stops his steps. Katsuki also halts.
Green eyes looks at him but he refuse to look back.
“Why?”
“My work promoted me.”
“Oh…” The sound is almost a croak. “That’s g-good! Yeah, good for you! Congrats! I’m very h-happy for you.” Each word comes out more choked and muttered than the last.
Katsuki grits his teeth. He should not have made this outings. He shouldn't have continued meeting up with Angel Voice. He shouldn't have gotten attached.
Angel Voice starts hiccuping beside him.
“Happy… F-For you,” No, no don’t say it. “K-Kacchan.”
Just like that, whatever barrier of pretend anonymity that still stands breaks down between them. Katsuki pulls the shorter man to a nearby alleyway, pushing him up the wall and kisses him.
They both tried to play strangers. No strings, no feelings, no flings. It was easier said than done.
The taste of his lips is salty from tears but Katsuki didn’t mind. He places a hand on those dark curls, keeping him in place.
They pull away, catching their breaths. The thin white smoke from their heaving pants mingle at their close proximity.
“Deku…” The name rolls of his tongue. It still feels right and familiar despite spending years not daring to say it or even think about it.
“Kacchan…” Deku whispers, cupping Katsuki’s face in his palms and pulling him to another kiss.
They should have tried harder.
Katsuki holds him close, never wanting to let the other man go ever. His hands slowly trace Deku from his face to his waist as Katsuki tries to memorise his body.
He goes down to leave a trail of kisses on Deku’s neck, making Deku moan softly from the warm press of his lips in contrast to the cold air. He sucks on the skin near Deku’s collarbone until it is enough to bruise and moves to another patch of tanned skin to put a mark on.
Deku lets him litter his neck with hickeys and when he has enough of it, he pushes Katsuki away and leans to give some back.
Katsuki stops him before his lips could even meet his neck.
“You can’t.” I want you to.
Deku’s contented face drops in disappointment. He doesn’t say anything but captures Katsuki’s lips, harsher than the ones they shared earlier. Deku nips on his lips and Katsuki’s opens his mouth for Deku to deepen the kiss. Their tongues slides against one another.
It eventually became too much and they pull away, a thin strand of saliva connects them when they part.
Deku isn’t crying as hard as before but there are still some tears that falls from his eyes. His hands cup Katsuki’s face again.
“I love you, Kacchan.”
They really should have tried harder.
“I love you too.” In that moment, Katsuki lets himself believe that they can pull through, that they will be alright.
They didn’t.
If they only tried harder, they wouldn’t have to feel as hurt.
They wouldn’t have set themselves for heartbreak.
Rule #1: Trainees are forbidden to have any kind of intimate relationship with artists, staff, other trainees, or outsiders. Having romantic interests are not encouraged. Any trainee caught violating this rule will receive termination.
I, Bakugou Katsuki, am aware and agree to these conditions and swears to follow each regulation with honesty and diligence.
A year and half ago, Katsuki was selected as a finalist among five hundred trainees.
A year ago, Katsuki debuted in a seven-members idol group as the main vocalist; Ground Zero, a blond with an explosive personality.
It was a huge success. Their debut song is highest grossing song his agency had ever had. They stayed on the top of music charts for weeks and earned a supportive fan base, some even from other countries, in no time.
The air is warm and the bass of the music can be felt below his feet. Fans of One A screams around him so loudly that it could almost drown out the stadium’s speakers.
Katsuki’s stage presence is brings all eyes on him even on those times when he isn’t at the center. He moves with the equal amount of power and fluidity and still manages to keep his voice stable for his parts. His cheeks and muscles are more defined than the last time he had seen him and his hair is shorter at the sides. He looks breathtaking.
Izuku waves his lightstick up in sync with everyone around him and with the beat of the music.
If this is fated to fade away, then it’s my last letter
The words that I compose- I’m writing and erasing them
There are so many sentiments I have towards you to let go
Unpuzzle my lego
It’s at the level where it won’t return to its original shape
So be it, don’t cry
I’mma let you go and fly
It is a common fan knowledge that Ground Zero writes most of One A’s songs.
It is not a common knowledge that some of them aren’t really his own work.
Izuku knows because it is his songs, like the one that One A is currently performing. It sounds better than he thought it could be.
He smiles fondly as he listens to it, eyes never leaving the blond. As expected from Kacchan.
Most songwriters would be enraged that their work sells but the credit went to another person. Izuku would feel the same if it is not Katsuki.
He had written it for Katsuki after all.
Keeping myself busy with the days that have become hectic
In order to become distracted, the schedule is all filled up
But I’m unable to forget
It’s burned into my mind like a tattoo
We can’t return to that time, huh
If something could be done, then it’d be to call your name
No… but I accept your blame
Really, it’s time to say goodbye
When Izuku was four, he learned about All Might, a solo artist that many people considers as the best Japan had ever had. It was also around that time when he learned that the loud kid he always play with at the playground is also a fan.
Every afternoon, they would watch All Might’s performances at the appliance store near their neighbourhood. The both of them would sing along, even though they struggled pronouncing some of the words.
Some nights, they would spend it at each other’s houses and watch their idol be a guest at talk shows. They also used to talk about their future. How they would both also be a well-known artists, that they will someday surpass All Might.
When Izuku was nine, his dad gave him his guitar. His dad was almost jealous of the guitar since he paid more attention to it than his own father who was only staying there for a month before going back overseas for work.
His mother signed him up for guitar lessons. The determination and passion that he has are unwavering, despite having an unpleasant teacher. Soon enough, he learned how to play All Might’s hit songs and Katsuki would sing along with him.
When Izuku was twelve, he started writing songs and Katsuki would make a tune for it. His friend could also write songs but does not have the patience for it.
They enter talent shows together, presenting songs they wrote and produced together as Izuku plays the guitar and Katsuki sings. They were dubbed as the wonder duo in their neighbourhood.
When Izuku was fifteen, he realized three things.
One, Katsuki is always two steps ahead of him and Izuku could never catch up.
Two, Katsuki is going to be an idol trainee and they would be separated for a long period of time.
Three, Izuku likes his childhood friend.
Where and what are you doing now
Who is on your mind while we’re far apart
Living without you is already unbelievable
But even so, I have no choice but to go on
The person I loved too much
The string being too intertwined that it became tangled
Unable to disentangle, so in order for you
To walk on a different path, I’ll say goodbye
During Katsuki’s first week-long Christmas break from work, they fought.
Katsuki had looked thinner and earned bags under his eyes. He became snappier, getting pissed at even the simplest things. Auntie Mitsuki told Izuku that it was only from stress and that he should give him space to rest.
But, Izuku didn’t listen.
He followed his childhood friend around, fussing over him every time Katsuki would express some kind of discomfort.
The night before Katsuki leaves again for the agency, all his frustration and annoyance burst in the open. He screamed and screamed at Izuku, demanding to know Izuku’s intentions and if he’s looking down at him.
Izuku tried to explain it to him that he was only concerned. He would never look down on Katsuki, oh no, it’s the opposite. He looks up to him.
Katsuki didn’t believe any words that he said.
“I like you!” Izuku doesn’t remember what was said before he confessed but the words just came tumbling out of his mouth.
His childhood friend was silent after his declaration. He expected him to be angrier or to be disgusted but Katsuki was…
He pointed at the door of his room and growled for Izuku to get out.
Katsuki was scared.
The next morning, Katsuki texted Izuku to forget about him and their past.
His number got blocked soon after.
In the beginning, no matter the day
Beyond the tears that are concealed in the rain
I’m waiting, let’s start over
So that in the future, with a smile, we can meet again
Izuku thought that they would never meet again but they did. He isn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that the universe brought them together again.
He had always knew it was Katsuki that hangs at the back of the crowd during his performances. Those burgundy eyes that looks amber under a certain lighting are unmistakable. Izuku pretended not see him or even notice him in respect of Katsuki’s wishes.
But, when he caught his childhood friend at a nearby convenience store, he wasn’t able to resist. They interacted like strangers. They don’t share anything from their past or something that is too personal. Izuku had to bite his tongue every time he almost slips on calling Katsuki ‘Kacchan’. Katsuki was ‘rude man’, nothing more.
Then, they started having late night dinners. Izuku realized he had never stopped liking Katsuki and he kept falling for his childhood friend. And this time, he knows the other feels the same with how Katsuki’s gaze lingers on him.
There was one night Katsuki had fallen asleep on their table as Izuku writes on his notebook. He brushed Katsuki’s bangs from his face, observing the soft features on his face. Izuku had almost leaned down to kiss his childhood friend right there. Instead, he lets his fingers trail on Katsuki’s cheek, hoping he would get what Izuku means to say.
The color of the sky that we both watched
The scent of the path we both were on
Don’t forget them
The universe then decided to screw them over again and Katsuki could finally debut.
He remembers the night that they parted.
That night is the night they broke all the rules and the promises they made in the past.
After their little escapade in an alleyway, they came out with their hands joined together, their pace slow to extend their evening.
The little notepad he kept in his coat jacket felt heavier than usual. He’s been writing in it for three years, ever since Katsuki left to become an idol. He knows he’s only been grasping at what little he can keep from their past.
Deku will be the writer. Kacchan will be the performer.
That was the first contract they ever signed. It was written with colours and in bond paper when they were five but they dreamed . That was how it should have gone. That was what they wished happened.
Izuku stopped at his tracks and pulled the notepad out of his pockets. Katsuki had looked perplexed and Izuku wonders if he doesn’t remember what they talked about when they were kids. Still, he pushed the notepad to Katsuki’s hands.
“Kacchan, will you sing these for me?”
Finally, Katsuki’s face finally showed some recognition. He took the notepad, his fingers grazed the cover delicately.
“I will.”
Burgundy eyes looked at him intensely. It never fails to make Izuku feel so weak. But, it made him know, understand, that Katsuki would really sing it and it would be for him. In that moment, Izuku lets himself believe that they’re going to be alright.
They didn’t.
Right now, so that
I’m able to let go of your hand
I gotta let you know that I need to let you go
Hard to say goodbye
But I won’t run away
I’m ready to let go
Their eyes finally meet as the song ends.
Neither of them smile. Neither of them wave. Neither of them made any move that they recognize each other.
“Deku, when I become an idol, I will have a tre-trademark gesture! Like All Might’s ‘I am here’!” Five year old Katsuki announced proudly, both of his hands at his hips.
Five year old Izuku awed. “Really? What would it be?”
Katsuki grinned.
“It would go like this!”
Katsuki taps his chest by his heart with the tips of fingers and brings it to his lips then blows a kiss to the crowd. The fans went crazy, shouting even louder. No one seemed to notice how it stopped at Izuku’s direction, how it lingers on his way, how Katsuki kept their eye contact for more than a second again.
“It means ‘Katsuki loves you!’”