Chapter Text
Izuku could barely register the scene that was unfolding right in front of his eyes, or the words that pierced his ears through the telephone.
Everything stopped. He kind of saw everything in black and white, if that was even possible. He was convinced that if he tried hard enough, he would be able to distinguish how each one of his blood cells dropped somewhere down his body and away from his now completely blank face. He was suddenly out of breath. What was he doing? Where was he? What was going on?
He blinked and remembered. Right. He received a call from Aizawa.
"I’m so sorry, kid. He really did fight with all he had left, but it was not enough… The doctors couldn’t do anything for him."
He blinked again and, without much thought, he flew out from the hospital bed he had been resting in for the past few days. He left behind screams trying to hold him back and started jumping aimlessly into the cold afternoon air.
Izuku felt a strong thump in his chest, as if the heaviest of weights had suddenly installed itself next to his heart and was starting to crush it, taking its place. He tried to concentrate on his heartbeat, maybe if he focused on counting the beats, he would stop feeling like he was dying. But did he want that? Right now, death seemed definitely more appealing. He couldn't stop running.
He needed to leave.
A familiar scenery appeared in front of him. He didn't know for how long he’d been jumping through buildings. It could have been 10 minutes or 5 hours, for all he cared. He really hadn't been paying much attention to anything since that phone call. His face was soaked in sweat and tears, and he forced himself to stop. He let his eyes wander around the lonely landscape that extended in his peripheral view. Orange sunset light bathed the long beach where he once trained with All Might, memories suddenly feeling strangely foreign and old to him, even if everything happened merely a year ago.
Tears started falling down his cheeks again. He was angry, he was so angry and so scared that he didn't even know what to do with all these emotions. So he screamed, he screamed like he had never screamed before, and started throwing punches to an abandoned car, completely broken.
Izuku was familiar with fear, grief and despair. He could manage being scared. He knew it was part of his job, after all. What he couldn’t manage or even begin to imagine was a world without All Might. He knew this day would come, but he didn't know how unprepared he was for it to happen so soon.
The thought of giving up had never crossed his mind—that was not like him— but whenever he felt like he was close, there was always a reassuring warm hand on his shoulder that kept him grounded.
There was no hand anymore, no reassurance whatsoever, no ground. He was alone.
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Katsuki faintly heard Uraraka and Iida’s preoccupied blabbering about Izuku in the hallway.
"He jumped through the window an-and then he was gone!" she cried.
"I… We tried to hold him back but... we-we couldn’t do anything, and now he’s gone, and we don’t know where he went, sensei," Iida said to a deadpanned Aizawa.
He can’t have gone that far, can't he? Why didn’t they go after him?, Katsuki thought, gritting his teeth.
The mood at school was weird, to say the least. And sad, very sad. The air felt heavy and tense, half the class crying their guts out and hugging each other, and the other blankly staring at a wall.
And Katsuki… Well, Katsuki was bad at feelings, especially at identifying them. And right now, he couldn't really put a name to any of the things that were stockpiling in his gut and threatening to cut a hole in his chest and leave him completely open and empty. There was worry, too, that much he could identify. And he figured that about that, he could at least do something.
"Oi, I think I might know where he is," Katsuki managed with a vague huff of his mouth, and headed off to the main door.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
By the time Katsuki reached the far side of the abandoned coast, he found Izuku fighting by (or against) himself, throwing up fists everywhere, destroying everything around him without paying any attention to his surroundings.
The sight was heart-wrenching, and Katsuki got closer as fast as he could before Izuku hurt himself even more. Has this fucking kid forgotten he was in a fucking hospital a few hours ago? Katsuki tsked as he approached him. His left arm must be completely limp by now. Fuck Izuku and his goddamn recklessness.
Katsuki was closer now, at arms length, and he fumbled and struggled to avoid Izuku’s aimless smashes. From this distance, he could see his face better-his eyes were completely lost, desperate. He was crying and screaming nonsense, gibberish Katsuki couldn't quite decipher.
"Izuku, stop," Katsuki's tone was stoic and solemn, almost angry, but his words carried an undeniable sense of worry. He didn't try to hide it. Not anymore, not since his apology.
"Don’t call me that! And leave me the fuck alone!" Izuku blurted back as he kept aiming punches.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow in surprise at the curse and the remark about the name, but focused on what he came here to do. He needed to stop him.
"Come on Izu- Deku, I know this sucks, but you need to stop for a minute. You’re fucking bleeding!"
"I can’t do this, Kacchan. Not anymore. Not without him," Izuku said as he finally stopped punching that poor abused spot on the wall. His arms deflated, and his hands were tight on both his sides.
"This doesn’t make any sense, I am no replacement for him. How did he even think I could pull this off at all? I don’t want to do this anymore..." He was straight up sobbing now.
"This can’t be happening," he resumed the punching and sent a particularly strong smash to the abandoned car behind Katsuki.
Katsuki felt as if the hole that was threatening to open him up had grown wider. His chest hurt. He was hurt, too, damn it. All Might meant so much to him, too. Fuck this. He understood how Izuku felt. Fuck, he probably understood better than anyone. But that didn't mean he knew what to say to make this situation any better. His mouth was closed, jaw tense, and his words wouldn't come out, so, on a whim, he placed himself in front of Izuku, right where he was aiming and directing his attacks.
He won't shoot straight into me, right? He considered. He told himself he should stop acting on impulse. But he was right, Izuku did shoot but ended up changing the direction of his attack last minute so the quick and powerful beam of green energy flashed rapidly and grazed Katsuki's left ear, crashing into an abandoned dusty Volkswagen that had definitely seen better days.
Izuku then crumbled to the floor, defeated. The erratic mumbling was gone, but tears kept falling down his cheeks.
Deep down, Katsuki thought he preferred the anger and the screams, because, for some reason, he couldn't stand what these agonizing sobs were doing to him. He tried pushing this thought aside. This was probably the most heartbroken he had ever seen Izuku, and his chest felt incredibly tight at the sight.
Katsuki was bad with feelings, and even worse with feelings that were somehow related to the boy that was heartbreakingly sitting and crying in front of him. Their history so far had proved this point, countless times, even if he had been trying to make amends this past few months. So, he did what he’d been doing throughout today and had proved to work.
Following his gut, Katsuki kneeled to the ground and embraced Izuku in a strong, long hug. A rush of adrenaline flowed through his veins at the touch, but he tried to remain quiet and still. He knew he was acting out of character, and he was sure the embrace must feel, at least, a bit awkward and stiff. He wondered if Izuku was thinking the same thing.
In hindsight, this was the most right he'd felt since the dreadful news about All Might, so he, again, pushed his intrusive thoughts aside. He sensed Izuku’s body tense in his arms for a second, only to relax and deflate next.
"I don't know what to do… from now on," Izuku sobbed into the soft fabric of Katsuki’s jacket on his shoulder. "I really can’t do it."
Katsuki steeled himself and prayed for his voice not to falter. "You will do what you’ve been doing all this time, nerd," he answered. "I meant what I said back then in the rain, Izuku, you’re not alone in this. You’ll be fine. Everything’s going to be fine."
Katsuki realized that he’d been reassuringly drawing invisible circles on Izuku’s back, and that his breath had finally steadied.
"I miss him already, Kacchan," Izuku said, even though it came out as merely a sob.
"Yeah, me too."
Katsuki caught a glance of wet, green eyes and decided that acting on impulse hadn’t been so bad, after all.