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You had always seemed to have a strong front. Nothing ever seemed to phase you. You had your goofy expressions of despair, and shock written across your features, but nothing ever seemed to genuinely affect you. Whenever you got some type of bad news you always just laughed it off with a “I guess it’s like that sometimes!”. Even when your family dog died, of course it hurt you, but you didn’t show it. When someone finally noticed that your dog was missing, you’d only smile, and mention their death in an oddly casual manner. The way you’d declare death so normally would make the other party laugh nervously. “Why are you saying it like that?!” You didn’t really have an answer to why you couldn’t show people your true emotions. Maybe at one point in your life you were too open and it had bit you in the ass, and now unconsciously, you cover everything with a grin, and a laugh.
Nobody ever seemed to see you when you actually fell apart. Alone in your room, or in a bathroom stall, you would cry, and gasp, clenching your fists until you left crescent impressions in your palms from your nails. Once you were done, you quickly cleaned yourself up, took a couple of deep breaths, and off you went. Like nothing happened.
The fact that you never showed what you felt, bothered Katsuki to no ends. He was your boyfriend. Almost a year now. He loved you, man, he was head over heels for you. You were there for him when even Kirishima was unavailable. He loved you. Frankly, he would hurt somebody for you. And not just in that aggressive, chest-puffed show of pride character, he always seemed to portray, but in a dangerous, serious, type of declaration. He vowed to himself silently, the first time he realized he was truly in love with you, that he would hurt whoever decided to mess with you, if it ever came down to it.
You were like the sun on cocaine, that’s the only way he could really even describe you in five words or less. He could say home, and be corny, but Katsuki wasn’t corny. So you were the sun on cocaine. Kirishima was only second to your brightness. You were similar to the redhead, even he knew it, that’s why you both seemed to get along so well. That’s how you got to know Katsuki anyways, you had become such good friends with Kirishima, you ended up befriending Katsuki as well. You, and Kirishima had the same humor, and ways of viewing the world. However, there was something about you that made Katsuki want to know about you.
Kirishima was genuine. Always genuine. He laid out his cards for everyone to see. What you saw was what you got. The sun in human form, with his shark teeth, and puffed-out chest, he was supportive, and warm. Always there to give a compliment, and always there to give you a shoulder to cry on. That was Kirishima.
You, however, were similar. Similar, but not quite the same. There was always something distant in your eyes. It wouldn’t happen usually, but sometimes, if someone wasn’t really paying attention, they could miss the clouds obscuring the sunlight in your eyes. You weren’t so genuine. You would hide things. You were a good person, everyone knew that, but sometimes it was hard to believe what you were saying. When it came to complimenting others you would easily proclaim it with vigor, and excitement. When you were complimented, you would change the subject, dismissing it quickly. Nobody ever knew what you were really thinking. You were always smiling, even if the situation wasn’t fitting.
When Katsuki was kidnapped, you were missing 90% of the time. Whenever you did appear though, you were smiling. Positive, and bright. “It’ll be okay! He’s strong! He’ll wait for us. It’ll be okay!” It put the others at ease, seeing you so positive, and firm on believing in his safety. Once you saw that they were relaxed, you would excuse yourself lightheartedly, careful, not to ruin the safe atmosphere you had created. You would head to the most private area you could find. A roof, a corner, the basement, anywhere that you were truly alone. There, alone, and typically in the dark, you would fall apart. You didn’t believe yourself. You did, but at the same time, you didn’t. Your words were filled up with hot gas, enough to encourage others, but deflated upon making it to your head.
Was he okay? Will he be okay? Is he okay? Is he okay? I miss him. I miss him. I miss him.
The routine of being okay, always smiling, kept going. After rescuing Katsuki, and making it back home, and everything was normal again. You still hadn’t properly grieved with a lot of your trauma. Still, you smiled like nothing happened. Everything was okay.
Then Katsuki had asked you out. In his own Katsuki way.
After his fight with Izuku, you went to check up on him. You had just happened to wake up at the time and caught them walking back in. Both banged up from the fight, and exhausted. You didn’t say anything, and watched them separate wordlessly to their own rooms. You waited a few minutes before checking up on Katsuki. Bringing with you a glass of water, and a painkiller in case he needed it. You knocked gently, three times, the way he told you months before. He liked knowing it was you at the door, and not some airhead. He never admitted it though, he only angrily stated he wanted to know it was you so he could ignore you. He always opened the door, though. Just like every other time you knocked, he opened the door, and there he was, already standing aside to let you in. Bandaged, and clearly upset, he looked like a bruised puppy. You stepped in, calmly, and chuckling lightly. You placed the glass on his nightstand, and asked if he wanted to take a painkiller. He replied with a, “Maybe later.” and you nodded, placing the pill beside the glass.
The bed springs creaked at the new weight of you sitting down, taking your place at the edge of the bed by his headboard. Katsuki followed, bed springs creaking at his weight, on the other side of the bed. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t really have to. You just came here to check on him anyways. You looked him over, already seeing he’s been taken care of. You checked his hands, pink, and rough. He exerted himself.
“Can I see your hand?”
He knew what that meant. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at you. He just wordlessly gave you his right hand. Your small hands were good for a lot of things, they were useful for hard to reach places, they were comical when being compared to men’s hands, or even normal-sized women’s hands. They were best at massaging, though. Katsuki would rather die than admit that your secret massages were actually essential to him falling in love with you. Your small hands had a great amount of pressure, and skill. Your lithe fingers would wrap around his wrist and apply pressure, easing the pain from overusing his quirk. They were heavenly to say the least, and it always relaxed him. You always knew what to do to get his guard down.
“Why did it have to be me?”
The low mumble barely made it to your ears, but with the room being so quiet, you managed to catch it.
“Hm? What do you mean?”
You were concentrated on massaging effectively, eyes downcast, long lashes concealing his view of them.
“Everything is so damn frustrating.”
You softened your motions, and glanced at him.
“How so?”
His frown deepened, and his eyebrows creased.
“I’m so fucking weak. I’ve been saved by that damn nerd twice now. I even cost All Might his career. I ruined All Might. And….and….fuck!”
He moved his hand from your grasp to lean his head into his hands. Angrily, he gripped at his hair.
“I’m so fucking weak. I’ve even got these stupid emotions fucking me up even more.”
Confused, you raised an eyebrow, ready to comment until he interrupted you.
“Damn it! Why’re you even here! Why’re you even here, (y/n)! I…! Why do you and Kirishima even treat me like this….? I don’t….I don’t deserve this.”
You waited until he settled, set on his belief of being worthless. Gently, you took his hand again. You didn’t massage it, you just held it. Rubbing soft circles on his thumb.
“We care about you. I care about you. You’ve got issues, Katsuki. Shit, everyone does. But it’s okay. That’s why we’re here. We want to help you. You’re not a bad guy, Katsuki. You’re so good. You just have a hard time coping with everything.”
He didn’t respond for a minute. His red eyes probing the wooden floor. Then, suddenly determined, he turned to you. Red eyes on fire, and cheeks flushed.
“Go out with me.”
Perhaps this was the first time you actually showed genuine emotion to him. Your mouth opened slightly in shock, fumbling with the thought process of what he just said, you couldn’t respond. He didn’t give you enough time to before he spoke again.
“You said we all have issues. Then you must have some too, right? Well then, your dumbass needs someone to help you too, right? If you want to help me so damn much, let me help you. You’re pretty bad at taking care of yourself. You think you hide it pretty well, but you don’t.”
You widen your eyes at the thought of being found out like that. You had hidden yourself away so well, you didn’t think anyone would be able to find out. But here he was, someone found out, and they were calling you out for it.
You relaxed, and regained your composure, a soft smile adorning your lips like always,
“Katsuki, you don’t even like me.”
Now it was his turn to be surprised,
“Who are you to tell me how I feel?! Of course I like you! Do you think I would put myself in this position if I didn’t?! God, you’re so stupid!”
His angry outburst, and the scarlet blush across his cheeks didn’t lie. He did like you. You never thought you’d be in this position. You had always been fond of Katsuki, always thought he was fun, and always wanted to dote on him. Maybe a few times you had resisted the urge to kiss him, or hug him too tight, but you never thought he would ever want to pursue that kind of thing with you.
That night you both decided to go out. It was fun, it was exciting, it was new. Dating Katsuki was like learning a new language. What he said versus what he meant, what his habits were, and how to tell he was something other than okay. It was all new. You took it in strides, you learned how to hold him, when to give him his space, and when to make his favorite meal. By the end of the first year, you knew how to take care of Katsuki. You were his home. He knew he could take off his shoes, and rest safely in the warm domain of your heart. He wouldn’t be hurt here, he was safe, and it was oh-so warm.
But was he home to you?
You knew Katsuki like the back of your hand. But did he know you like that? That’s when things would go haywire.
You knew all these things about him. You knew about his nightmares, his anxieties, his insecurities, what he hated about himself, and what he feared most. He was so incredibly naked, and vulnerable.
He had only seen you cry a few times. Once, was when he was rescued, and made it back home safely. You had hugged him with tears in your eyes, and once everyone else had taken away his attention, you cried some more on your own. He didn’t see that, though. The second was on an odd night that you had snuck into his room, and slept with him. He woke up at 3 am from a nightmare, shaking like a leaf, and grasping your form blindly in the dark. He needed to know you were still there. You woke up from his frightened gasps, and slightly hurtful grip on your body. You asked him what was wrong, and when he told you of his nightmare, you cried for him. You comforted him with sweet words, and warm caresses in his hair, lulling him back to sleep. He had seen you shed a tear or two on other occasions, but it was never for yourself. It was always for someone else. If you were always hurting for someone else, when did you ever deal with your pain?
And he knew he gave you pain.
He knew it because your smile would always falter a little, and your small laugh would made him want to cry. He did his best to think things through when he spoke to you. He knew that he said hurtful things without thinking about how you would take them.
Typically, when he called you an idiot or a dumbass, you wouldn’t take it seriously. He never meant them, that was just his lingo, it was how people insert “like” between every other word.
Sometimes though, it felt like he truly meant it.
You had a complicated relationship with yourself. You tolerated yourself enough to exist. You figured you were okay at some things, and not okay in most. You thought you were pretty if the sun shined a particular way. Overall, you thought you were okay. You had battled with the ideas of being worthless for so long, you got tired of hating yourself so deeply, you settled with being okay. But you were more than okay. Your drive was more than okay. You were passionate, and childish, and wanted to see the world in these pastel pink sunglasses. You truly wanted to believe in the good of others, and in the world. But you didn’t want to believe in you. You thought of yourself as baggage. You wanted to get to places high above the crowd, you wanted to love people, and things, and the breeze, and the summer flowers that soak up the sun. You wanted to be more.
But who were you?
You knew you were good at taking care of people. You didn’t mind it. You didn’t mind crying alone. You didn’t mind hiding your emotions all the time, because it meant others would be happy in your place.
That’s what pissed Katsuki off.
And when he called you “an absolute fucking idiot” you just about equated the sting from his words to a gunshot.
All this time, you thought you had been doing the right thing. Taking care of others, suffering alone, putting on a brave front. This is what a decent human being is like, right? Nobody wants to deal with your baggage. You didn’t want anyone to see you cry anyways. It was embarrassing, and ruined your happy image.
Katsuki had caught you crying. Not for him, not for anyone else, but for yourself. In your rawest form, you were breaking.
After he had called you an idiot, you only smiled, and laughed it off. The conversation wasn’t even supposed to be that serious. You were talking about how when your family dog died, you said you cried. That sparked the conversation of how he’s never seen you cry for yourself. Then you diverted the conversation to something else. You didn’t want to get into that topic, there’s no point in it. Katsuki, stubborn, relayed the conversation back to the original topic.
“Why’re you always so damn smiley all the time? I know I’m always fucking angry but you’ve seen me do other things. Shit, you’ve seen me cry like a baby. Do you not trust with that type of shit?”
You didn’t know how to respond. It’s not that you didn’t trust him, you just didn’t think you wanted him to deal with it.
“No, no! Of course not. I trust you with my life, it’s just...I don’t really...get upset. Besides, I’m your pillar of stability, yknow. If I’m not stable then who will be? I’m okay! Don’t worry. You’ll get wrinkles if you worry too much.”
You tried being light hearted about it, you didn’t want him to pound you with too many questions. You didn’t want to be probed. You didn’t want to be seen.
“Bullshit. I know you cry when I’m not around.”
Did he have to be so blunt? What was he trying to pull here?
You laughed softly, “I guess. It’s okay! It doesn’t matter. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.”
Katsuki was getting more and more frustrated with your empty answers.
“(y/n)!”
He had slammed a fist down, effectively gaining all of your attention.
“Are you scared of me or something? Do you think I’m not gonna be able to take care of you? Do you not WANT me to take care of you? Are you just my babysitter?! I don’t need this to be one sided! Fuck! Why do you make this so difficult?! Why can’t you just be honest?!”
By the end of his rant, he was huffing, having let out all of his steam, there was nothing left.
You could only smile, “Katsuki… it’s okay. You have an image of me, that I don’t want to ruin. Everyone has that image of me. I’m supposed to be happy, and positive. I don’t want anyone to know I can be anything otherwise. It doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. You take care of me. You… love me. I think.” You laughed weakly, attempting to make a joke. “Really, it’s okay. You don’t need to see me at my worst.”
“You’re an absolute fucking idiot, yknow that?”
His hands had balled up so tight, his knuckles were turning white. He was biting his cheek so hard, he was starting to taste iron. With empty eyes, he turned to look at you. No tone in his voice, and dangerously flat,
“Then...maybe I won’t see you at all.”
Your bad habit of always laughing it off came back desperately weak.
“You don’t mean that.”
“(y/n), I can't do this anymore.”
“Do what?” The smile on your face was odd.
“I don’t know you.”
That hurt. But it was true, how could he? You refused to be vulnerable with him.
“Ah….” You chuckled darkly, pitifully, “Yeah, that’s true.”
You sighed, tired.
Straightening your back, and stars in your eyes, you proposed an idea.
“It’s been a long day! I think we’re both just tired, yknow? Let’s talk about this tomorrow! Fresh day!”
Katsuki wasn’t having it.
“No.”
He didn’t say anything else, but that. It rested heavily in the air, looming over your head. Your back was against the wall, and you were grasping at straws.
“....Well! If that’s how you really feel, yknow! I guess...it just has to be like that! And that’s okay! I’ll come get my stuff tomorrow. Just put it aside for me.” You were smiling politely, like he had just said no to going out that night.
Katsuki didn’t respond. His red eyes scrutinized your entire being, looking for any form of real emotion. Any cracks in the happy mask you had painted on. You were good, though. And he couldn’t find any.
You left wordlessly, smiling the entire time. Softly, the door clicked shut. You didn’t even make it to the end of the hall before you slumped against the wall. Silent sobs racked your body, did that really just happen? You thought were doing everything right. You didn’t even have enough energy to go downstairs and find a decent place to fall apart. Here. Not even 5 feet away from your now ex boyfriend. You couldn’t move. The grief was overwhelming. You had handled much worse than this, and alone, too. This was a different type of pain though.
You were so caught up in your head, you didn’t hear a door open, and feet softly walk across the carpeted floor. Suddenly, warm arms were lifting you, and taking you into a room. Blurry vision made it hard to see who it was, but you knew those arms. You loved these arms. You loved him. He placed you on the bed gently, turned off the lights, and lied down next to you.
It hurt him greatly to see you this upset. Fat tears slipped mercilessly down your cheeks, you could hardly breathe with how much snot was blocking your nose. You were heaving and shuddering, like a newborn baby, barely alive.
He could only console you the way you did for him countless times. Shushing you gently, and smoothing away your hair from your face, he whispered a quiet, “I love you.” and let you cry.
His quiet proclamation of love only made you cry harder. You repeated your love for him in broken sobs, and apologized for not being honest. In the ugliest, and rawest exposition of yourself, you lay yourself bare for only him to see. You let him in a little bit. You both talked, and talked, and cried, and talked.
He loved you, and he didn’t want to let you go, but he had to see you be honest. You were finally honest. At least you can work your way up from here. Angry, as he was, he wanted to be there with you at the top.