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When coming face to face with imminent danger and/or impending doom, any regular person would feel panic start to settle in their bones and burn beneath their skin. It was natural human instinct to want to save yourself, to live, and as such your body would pump adrenaline into your bloodstream and force the urge to fight or flee. Or freeze, should the panic overwhelm human instinct and keep you rooted in place instead.
You, however, felt no surge of panic or even the desire to flee. Fighting would be out of the question anyways; a collapsing building wasn’t exactly something you could go a few rounds with in self defense. But you could move just fine, you realized, stepping out of the way of a normal person attempting to run. You just didn’t care to move.
Rather, you shut your eyes and breathed in deep, finding yourself content that the last things you would feel was the sun shining against your back and the breeze tousling your hair. That is, until you were violently shoved out of the way.
Faintly, you registered a loud explosion followed by the quiet pelting of debris falling to the pavement. Someone was screaming, someone was crying, someone was asking if you were hurt—
“No, I’m okay.” You blinked, looking up at big green eyes framed by unruly green hair. “Oh. Pro Hero Deku, right?”
The young man looked concerned, a line creased between his brows that was far too prevalent for a hero so young. “Yeah— that’s me, ummm… are you feeling any pain? Dizziness? Shortness of breath?”
Shaking your head, you gave him a wry smile. “No more than the usual.”
“Usual?” He tilted his head, more unanswered questions seeming to gather at the tip of his tongue. Just as he opened his mouth to ask something else, a second voice boomed from behind him.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”
A head of blonde hair came into view, and sharp red eyes were glaring daggers at you on the ground. From the way Deku flinched, you had a feeling that the look on blondie’s face was one to fear, yet you remained impassive.
“WHAT WERE YOU DOING JUST STANDING THERE, HUH?” He roared.
“Kacchan, just take a breath—“
“NO, I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK SHE WAS DOING JUST STANDING IN THE WAY LIKE THAT! YOU TRYNA KILL YOURSELF OR SOMETHING?”
‘Kacchan’ looked murderous by this point — how ironic — and you shook your head slowly.
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself.” You offered them a shrug. “I just figured it was finally my time and didn’t care to stop it. Simple.”
The heroes shared a disbelieving look. Were you serious?
You pushed yourself up from the ground and dusted some dirt off your jeans. “Well, thanks for saving me I guess. I’m sorry you wasted the effort on me, but hey, at least I’ll be able to say I was rescued by the Pro Hero Dynamite.”
They were further surprised upon seeing you give them such a genuine smile, as if this truly was just some tiny mishap you were saved from. You were acting as if you had tripped and been stopped from falling, not nearly being crushed by a building.
“Are… are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Deku asked tentatively, reaching out a hand as if prepared to catch you at a moment's notice. “Come with me, we’ll go get you checked out by paramedics.”
“I promise I’m just fine.” You waved him off, then motioned to the rubble next to the three of you. “Don’t let me keep you, I’m sure there are plenty more people in need of heroes right now.”
Both of them seemed hesitant to listen to your dismissal, Deku especially, but finally Dynamite grumbled a ‘tch’ and turned on his heel. “Whatever. Just don’t go standing under any more falling buildings. I might not be there to save you a second time.”
“That’s just fine.” You sighed under your breath then gave Deku a reassuring smile, and he finally followed after the other hero.
As you continued on your original path down the sidewalk towards the doctors office, you thought back to what Dynamite had asked you.
“WHAT WERE YOU DOING JUST STANDING THERE, HUH?”
You stared up at the building that held your specialist’s clinic. “Because, Mr. Pro Hero, I’m going to die soon anyways.”
Your second run in with the blond haired, loud mouth of a hero was far less of an exciting one, but no less surprising for both parties.
It happened a week later in a much quieter part of the city, only a block away from your shoebox of an apartment. Nearly everything around your neighbourhood was downsized, or ‘compact and minimalist’ as the realtor had put it (it didn’t matter much to you, it was only temporary anyways), and definitely not somewhere you’d expect a hero to spend their time off.
Evidently that assumption was incorrect, considering you were currently staring at the back of Dynamite’s head in line for soba. He must’ve felt your gaze on him, because he suddenly straightened up and glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening comically at seeing you.
“You.” He muttered, voice much calmer and quieter, but no less gruff.
“Me?” You quirked a brow. Of course, you recognized him, but he was a pro. Surely you hadn’t been so notable as to make a mark on his memory?
“You’re that suicidal girl from the building collapse last week.”
Oh. Right.
“I guess I am.”
“You guess?”
He was sounding more and more irritated with everything you said, so you elected to shut your mouth and gesture in front of him. The girl at the counter was waiting to take his order, and very poorly hiding her heart eyes while doing so.
With a sound akin to a growl, he faced forward and gave her his order. After she gave him his total (with minimal stuttering, you go girl!) he handed her a few bills extra. “I’ll pay for hers too.”
It happened so quickly that you almost didn’t realize what he was doing, but soon caught on and stepped forward. “Hey, I can pay for myself—“
He levelled you with a sharp look that had you quieting faster than you thought possible. The cashier hardly seemed fazed, if anything a little disappointed that the Pro she was nearly drooling over seemed to be with somebody, and proceeded to take your order.
As the two of you shuffled aside to wait for your food, you rounded on him, arms crossed over your chest. “What was that for?”
“You never answered my question.” He said, matching your stance. “What did you mean by ‘I guess I am’.”
“You called me the suicidal girl. I guess I am because I can understand how it must’ve looked to you, but I’m not actually suicidal.”
And he looked to be in just as much disbelief as the first time. “You— you were just standing there! You saw the building coming down and you didn’t even try to fucking move!”
Other patrons in the small establishment glanced your way at his rising tone and choice language, making you flush slightly. “Listen, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
“Tell me you don’t want to die.”
He sounded so matter of fact, so sure in his statement that it made your heart ache. He just didn’t get it— and why would he? You weren’t in the most common of situations, though not an overly rare one either, but it was one that he had likely yet to come across in his young career.
“I don’t want to die.” You echoed back, and at least that much was true.
“Then what gives?”
It was then that your orders arrived, and you gave the worker a small bow as you took your food. Dynamite grabbed his own, but was still focused solely on you as he awaited your answer. You sighed.
“Listen, it’s a personal thing and a bit of a long story but I promise I’m not going to—“
“I’ve got time.”
You paused, looking him over with narrowed eyes. “You do, huh? And why exactly would you want to listen?”
He shrugged and glanced down at your food. “Consider it repayment for dinner.”
Before you could even attempt to refuse him, he was at the door and looking back at you almost impatiently. “Well?”
What’s the worst that could happen, right?
So you went with him out of the shop and down the street to a quaint little park, settling down on an old bench to eat. Around the bites of food you started from the ‘beginning of the end’ as you dubbed it, with the first occurrence being what your parents thought to just be the flu.
The flu turned into months of testing and waiting and crying and hoping that you could figure out what the hell seemed to be making you so sick. The doctors tested your blood, your bones, your skin; they kept you in hospital night after night to run scans and x-rays and studies. For almost an entire year you lived within the confines of white, sterilized walls and asked yourself what you did in your past life to deserve this.
“So, you’re sick then?” Dynamite, or Katsuki, as he insisted you call him, asked when you paused to take another bite.
“Yeah.”
It was truthfully worse than just being sick, but you’d long since come to accept your fate. When the doctors finally made a breakthrough and had an answer to all of the questions, it felt like an immense peace settling into your whole being. Your parents cried, hard , and begged the doctors to find a different answer than what was the truth. They were desperate for you to have something treatable, something that wouldn’t be so gut wrenchingly impossible to accept, but alas.
You had just taken their hands and given them a sad smile, because while they didn’t want to accept it, you already had.
Katsuki looked you up and down once, chopsticks twirling around his fingers like a trick one would do with drumsticks. You briefly wondered if he played, then met his penetrating stare almost challengingly. “What?”
“You don’t look sick.” He said simply and you shrugged.
“Not every sick person looks like they’re on their deathbed all the time.”
Being met with silence again, you sighed and pointed up at your head. “Stage four brain cancer.”
His silence quickly shifted from impatient to stunned, chopsticks nearly falling into the grass from how fast his hands froze. When he opened his mouth, you held up your hand and cut him off, recognizing the pitying yet questioning look in his red eyes.
“No, I’m not getting treatment, yes, I know I should at least give myself a chance, and I really don’t want any pity or sympathy.” You recited the usual speech, one that had been repeated to nearly every single person that learned of your condition.
Katsuki cleared his throat and nodded, focusing back down on the few remaining bites of food. “Any reason why you decided not to get treatment?”
“Yeah,” you hummed. “I did for a while at first when it was smaller, but it was inoperable anyways and the improvement was pretty minimal. Too minimal to justify feeling like a walking corpse most of the time. I’d much rather be able to spend what little time I have doing what I please.”
“I see…” He mumbled, and for a moment you thought he was going to subject you to another speech about how you shouldn’t throw your life away if there’s even a tiny chance of survival, but he just nodded again. “I think I understand… at least, as much as I can without being in your shoes. I respect it.”
You smiled a bit at that; it was a nice change to have someone, even if they were essentially a stranger, accept your choice to let things end naturally.
Turning your eyes skyward, you drank in the wide, star-filled expanse of the night sky. It had become your biggest constant in life, because whether you were in your apartment, another hospital room, or just sitting on a bench in the park, the stars never dulled their shine. Even when the sun rose to overpower the infinite twinkling, or clouds obscured the sky from sight, the stars never wavered in their multitude. The small part of you that liked to believe in the afterlife quietly wished to become another light in the sky upon death, another star for a child to see and wish upon as they forged through their own hardships in life.
“Hey, Katsuki?”
“Hm?”
“Still think I’m suicidal?”
He seemed a bit at a loss for words until he saw the teasing smile on your lips, then huffed a laugh. “No, I guess not.”
“You guess?” You looked back over at him with a raised brow, but still grinning wide.
“Yeah. I guess.”
That night, Katsuki walked the ‘suicidal girl’ home after the night air fell to cold to withstand. To his surprise, she lived just a few streets away from his own apartment, which made his justification for escorting her that much easier.
“Thanks for walking me home.” She said upon reaching the lobby door. “And for dinner.”
He brushed her off and offered a quiet, “Don’t mention it. See you around?”
“Hopefully.” She smiled and slipped into the lobby, then into the waiting elevator.
Katsuki waited until she was out of sight through the glass doors before continuing on his own way home. Her departing words kept echoing in his mind with each step, and he realized that ‘hopefully’ had probably become a normal response to most things. Making plans, getting to see the next episode of a new TV show, eating her favourite food, even just waking up the next day… nothing was a certainty to her anymore. It was more jarring of a thought than actually learning she was terminal.
“Hopefully.” Katsuki repeated, to himself and to her, because he really did hope to see her live another day.
And the cards seemed to rule in his favour, as it was only two days later when he spotted her again, leaving the same soba restaurant.
As more days and weeks rolled by, it became quite commonplace for Katsuki to spot her. Sitting in her favourite restaurant, entering the lobby of her building, heading down the street towards the doctor’s office, and one time even having coffee with who he assumed were her parents. He would stop and take the time to chat with her when he could, and even when he couldn’t, he’d send a wave in her direction upon locking eyes.
They weren’t really friends, but no longer were they only strangers either. Just another regular occurrence in each other’s daily lives, a blip of consistency that unknowingly made their waking hours a little bit brighter. Funny how something so small could make such a lasting impact.
Unfortunately Katsuki didn’t realize how much of a constant she had become until, suddenly, she wasn’t there anymore.
It took him longer than he’d ever admit to recognize what felt off every passing day, and it was a late night, when he had a random craving for soba and was standing in line at her favourite restaurant that it finally hit him. “Shit… when was the last time I saw her?” He whispered low under his breath.
“Sir? May I take your order?”
It was the same worker from the night they talked in the park, smiling just as brightly up at him as she waited for his answer. Katsuki startled just a little and rattled off what he wanted mostly from muscle memory. His mind was far too clouded with new worry to put any actual thought into it. As he received his change, he braved seeking some truth to her whereabouts, despite dreading the answer.
“Hey, uh, you know that girl who’s in here all the time? (Y/N)?” He asked.
The girl’s smile faltered. “Oh, yeah. What about her?”
“Has she been in recently? Or have you seen her around?”
“No…” Her smile dropped all together, pulling downwards into a sad frown instead. “Her mother came in yesterday to pick up her favourite. Apparently she hasn’t been doing well and got admitted to the hospital earlier this week.”
Katsuki’s heart dropped all the way down to his feet and the colour drained from his face. Seeing his sudden mood change, the girl’s eyes widened. “Goodness, are you alright? I’m so sorry, is she a friend of yours?”
His tongue felt as heavy as lead and rough as sandpaper in his mouth, but he managed to force the words out. “Y-yeah, yeah, something like that… actually can you just cancel my order? Keep the money I just need— I need to make a phone call.”
The shop door was already swinging closed before the girl could get another word out, and Katsuki set a determined course for the park. He pulled up the hospital’s number with shaking fingers as he walked, and only hesitated once his thumb hovered over the call button.
Did he even want to know?
He pressed the button and the phone started ringing before he could overthink his way out of it.
“Hosu General Hospital.” A voice greeted upon answering.
“Hi, um-“ Katsuki swallowed his nerves and sat himself down on the park bench. “This is Pro Hero Dynamite, I was calling to inquire about the status of a patient admitted earlier this week.”
The tone of the person on the other end immediately seemed to perk up at the mention of his hero name. “Oh! Of course, did you rescue them during an altercation?”
“Yeah.” He replied, tone clipped with annoyance at the sudden nosiness. At least it was partially true, after all, he had in fact saved you once upon a time.
“How kind of you to check up on them!” They sighed, a happy and obnoxious little thing. “What’s their name?”
“(Y/N).” Katsuki silently cursed himself for never learning your last name. “I imagine she would have been admitted to the ICU or oncology.”
“Oncology?” They parroted, the faint sound of keys tapping in the background. “Is she a cancer patient?
“Stage four brain cancer.”
“Oh…”
The line went quiet after that, which Katsuki appreciated. Leave it to serious illness to stop someone from being so damn annoying when he has important things to find out. After another short moment, the typing stopped and the person hummed.
“Alright, looks like we only have one file under that name from this week. Let’s see here… oh—“
“Oh? Oh, what?” He sat up straighter, every muscle in his body tensing with the anticipation of what he feared was going to be bad news.
“I’m so, so sorry, sir.” They said in a very practiced, calm voice. It made his stomach roll. “It appears she passed this afternoon… if you’d like, I can contact—“
Katsuki hung up the phone, arm falling limp at his side.
He didn’t know what to feel.
Sadness. Anger. Nausea. Confusion. Pity. Nausea. Christ , he felt so sick…
Bending over and hanging his head between his legs, he took in slow, deep breaths until his stomach calmed and the burning in his throat receded. He wasn’t sure why he was so upset either— this was just some random girl he sort of knew, not one of his best friends or a family member. What made her so special?
He leaned back with a groan, letting his head fall back until he was staring up at the night sky. For some reason, the stars seemed to draw him in and distract from the aching in his chest. Perhaps Katsuki just hadn’t spent much time stargazing, but he swore they seemed to shine a little brighter tonight, one star in particular.
No matter where his attention strayed, it would always fall back on a single star directly above him. The luminescent glow stood out from all the rest, and he wondered how he had never seen this star before. Surely he should recognize it, it rivalled fucking Sirius for crying out loud!
Katsuki shook his head and stood from the bench. Come the next afternoon, he would arrange to have flowers sent to her parents and ask for details about the funeral. When asked why or how he knew her, he’d simply say that he saved her once, and would like to pay his respects. A typical hero’s answer.
Because he did save her once, but he couldn’t save her a second time.
As he took the long way home that night, ensuring to avoid her street, he assured himself that it was okay. She finally met the fate she had accepted so long ago, and the cold embrace of death was one she went towards gladly. No longer did she have to give “hopefully” as an answer or listen to unwarranted opinions about her own condition, and she would never have to be saved again. She was safe and at peace.
His dreams were empty and quiet that night, save for the memory of the bright new star shining above.
Yeah, everything was okay.