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“you stopped me.”
it isn’t an accusation, isn’t a question. “i did.”
“why?”
katsuki’s hands still, eyes trained on grown out black roots among a sea of cherry red. why? what a stupid question, katsuki thinks. you know why. you should know why.
the image of eijirou’s face—the shock, the fury—flashes behind katsuki’s eyelids. the dangerous glint in his eye as the puzzle clicked together in his head, the tears on his cheeks drying before they could drip to the ground, the rise of his chest as he took a stuttering breath.
the feeling of the floor falling away from beneath them all.
katsuki hadn't had time for denial, hadn't had time for anger. all he’d felt— “i almost felt bad!” —was sickness. bitter, mind-numbing sickness.
it spread through his classmates, that sickness.
“how could you?”
“does this mean… the usj, the mall, and—and camino…”
“that’s not right. that can’t be right.”
and then—
“you…”
eijirou’s voice had never sounded so… not his own.
“this is all your fault.”
katsuki had seen eijirou’s blistering red cheeks harden, the whole thing happening in slow motion. had seen his fingertips sharpening, solidified skin ripping through the air as it reached for its target. there had been no time to feel for himself, no time to process all of what this impossible truth really meant. there was only time to jump forward.
his body had moved on its own.
so katsuki says, while brushing the hair out of eijirou’s face, “i wasn’t gonna let you do something you’d regret.”
and he knows it’s coming before it actually happens; the rising, stiffening of eijirou’s broad shoulders, the sharp inhale, an almost gasp, like he’s been slapped. this shouldn’t be a surprise, should it? katsuki would do anything for eijirou. anything, like helping touch up his roots. anything, like bringing him soup and medicine when he caught the flu.
anything he wanted. anything he needed.
anything, like putting aside his own righteous rage, blinding and violent enough to level entire cities, if it meant keeping eijirou safe. if it meant stopping him from making a mistake.
katsuki hadn’t quite been fast enough.
“they’re all afraid of me.”
there that image is again: eijirou, with his furious face and his raging, swinging fists. every movement blind and fueled by betrayal; far from heroic, far from red riot. far from katsuki’s eijirou, from eijirou kirishima.
the image expands. there was mina on her knees, uraraka curled over her, stone faced, like a human shield. there was iida with a deep frown, an arm held out, stepping in front of jirou as she clapped her hands to her ears. there was kaminari, with fear unlike katsuki had ever seen etched into the lines of his face, pulling at the edges of his mouth, at his shoulders. beside him stood sero, who’s eyes were shut so tight it looked like it hurt. he’d been completely unable to even look at eijirou.
and then there was eijirou.
eijirou, softening under katsuki’s hands. eijirou, screaming at their traitor, though she’d already disappeared, until his voice shattered. eijirou, clenching his fists and holding them tight against his chest, like he was trying to keep them contained. eijirou, coming undone. collapsing against katsuki’s chest.
“look at me.”
“i can’t.”
“you can. look at me, eijirou.”
katsuki had seen the looks on all their faces, couldn’t help but examine each of them. he’d had seen how they reacted to red riot unhinged, to their darling kirishima cracking wide open.
he knows it would’ve been worse if eijirou had actually gotten his hands on hagakure. he knows eijirou had caused no real damage, knows this is too much all at once, for anyone at all, but—
but.
it seemed as though eijirou had wanted to hurt her. it looked like eijirou was willing to hurt her.
his classmates had been afraid. truly afraid. in the moment, katsuki had wanted to tear them all apart. had they not suffered enough? had there not already been enough damage dealt for one day? for the rest of their lives? everything had changed so quickly, the entire world flipped upside down. what right did his classmates have to fear eijirou? what right did they have to judge him for his fury, for his rightful anger?
katsuki feels like a coward when he replies, “don’t say that.”
“you saw how they—“ eijirou’s voice cracks. katsuki looks at him through the mirror on the bathroom wall, slumped into himself, making himself smaller. “you saw how they looked at me,” he whispers.
you saw how they looked at me like i was a monster, like i was coming for them next , is what eijirou doesn’t say.
after a brief pause, katsuki steps away to turn the water on in the bathtub. he runs his fingers under the stream to test the temperature, silent. thinking.
of course he saw their reactions. of course he saw.
now was not the time for rage, either.
katsuki turns to eijirou again, stepping up behind him, putting his calloused hands on his back. he doesn’t miss the way eijirou flinches, just barely. he doesn’t miss his sharp inhale, again, his quiet cries shaking his lovely, scarred shoulders.
“come on,” katsuki says, voice low.
eijirou folds further into himself, and his cries tear katsuki’s heart to shreds.
he leans forward, hands sliding down eijirou’s back, around his waist. slots his chin on his shoulder. takes a deep breath. strawberry shampoo, vanilla lotion. salt and sweat and tears.
eijirou feels it through his ribcage when katsuki says, “haven't we suffered enough?”
he feels in his spine when katsuki says, “they were already afraid. we all are.”
feels it in all his nerve endings when katsuki says, “it’s okay to be angry, eijirou.”
he lets katsuki lift him up. lets him pull his shirt over his head. lets him pick him apart, lead him into the tub. the water is warm when katsuki says, almost as a way of lightening the mood, “if they start treating you differently, i’ll kill them.”
it kinda works.
katsuki’s voice is quiet and careful, thick like honey in eijirou’s ears, his eyes falling shut as katsuki goes through the motions of washing his hair. as katsuki calls him strong, calls him powerful. as katsuki calls him incredible, lovely, deserving. eijirou isn't sure when the tears started falling again, isn’t sure how much time passes in the tub. with every word dipped in katsuki’s rock salt rasp, in his sugar sweet admiration, eijirou’s chest gets lighter.
katsuki says, “you’re no monster,” as he wraps him in a soft towel.
he says, “you’re not the bad guy,” as he guides eijirou into his hoodie.
he says, “they still trust you,” as he gently brushes his hair again.
he says, “they still love you,” as he tucks a red strand behind his ear.
he says, firmly, “they’re always going to love you,” as he presses his lips to eijirou’s forehead.
katsuki says, “i love you,” as eijirou falls into his arms, as tears soak through his shirt, as the world falls apart all around them.