Chapter Text
“Could it be some kind of karma, after all…?”
After 15 years dedicated to cooking, his body seemed used to suffering any kind of damage; from burns to cuts, from insomnia to fatigue and extreme demands, they were all risks he took and consciously accepted, yet none of those risks could compare to what had happened to him last Thursday.
15 years is a long time, he had gone through all kinds of restaurants, from the lowest rank to his dream Mighty All, the most important and influential luxury restaurant in the entire European continent, founded by chef Toshinori Yagi, one of the greatest chef's of modern times, holder of 5 Michelin stars. Mighty All had given him the opportunity to fulfill his potential by granting him the chance to obtain 3 Michelin stars that he had worked so hard to maintain, however, it was also at Mighty All that his career at his early 35 years of age seemed to have ended.
Last Thursday seemed like a day like any other. The kitchen was a sea of shouting, everyone in it moved from one side to the other while Katsuki tasted each sauce, each gratin and each cream, assuring its quality for each of his guests.
"How is it, chef?” asked the recent graduate, supposedly from one of the most prestigious schools in Paris.
"It's disgustingly salty and you didn't do what I asked when I stopped by your station," Katsuki denounced, tasting the cream again.
"I did chef, I did what..."
"You didn't," Katsuki snapped. "If you had done it right, I wouldn't be here telling you how bad you did, now go ahead and do this in less than 3 minutes."
The girl swallowed hard, looking like she wanted to cry.
"Quickly! "Katsuki demanded forcing her to run.
Agitated, in a bad mood and very hungry, all of this passed through his mind until everything went dark. It was a very serious accident in which a gas leak caused a series of explosions that affected both employees and diners. Lawsuits did not wait and so Mighty All closed its doors. For his part, Katsuki had miraculously managed to survive after recovering from the poisoning he had suffered after having inhaled so much gas, however, nothing would ever be the same.
He had survived, yes, but with a heavy price. His work was over and apparently his career too after losing, at the time of the explosion, two fingers on his right hand: the little finger and the ring finger. The doctors had wanted to comfort him about his current situation by mentioning that there were therapies and that he could possibly return to his job in a couple of years, but Katsuki didn't want to listen to false promises.
His career, unlike that of his idol, Toshinori Yagi, had ended at the age of 35. No restaurant would dare to condemn the mandate of their kitchen to a disabled person like him, no, they would clearly opt for someone young, healthy and with all their limbs since cooking always requires a strong body and mind.
After a week of hospitalization. Katsuki returned to his apartment feeling like a complete stranger in his own home, since he had rarely sat on the sofa and turned on the television.
Apparently that would be his life from now on, money really didn't concern him because the restaurant had liquidated him with a lot, so much so that even 2 of his generations could live decently with it. However, as night fell, her anguish began to grow.
Katsuki couldn't stop seeing his right hand, something as absurd as the loss of two fingers had made him give up permanently the career for which he had sacrificed so much. Half of his life had been drained into that, never in his personal life, never in his family, much less in a partner.
Beneath the covers, Katsuki covered half of his face with his forearms and inhaled deeply all the frustration he would carry from now on, frustration he thought he had overcome so long ago.
“Is it some kind of karma, after all…?” He asked himself.
Despite the fact that the apartment had a good kitchen, a practically new one. Katsuki had no intention of even trying, he just couldn't, not now that he was useless, his hands would never again be so agile, so precise and so meticulous, that was over. However, he couldn't starve, so he opted to order food delivery for the rest of the week.
His routine consisted of; getting up, ordering food, sitting for hours on the sofa, contemplating his right hand, ordering more food, complaining about said food, watching TV and in the end just turning off the TV to go back to bed, prepared for another sleepless night, contemplating ceiling. One of those many sleepless nights, Katsuki got out of bed and without turning on the light he approached the balcony of his room, once in front of the curtains, Katsuki parted them with his left hand, revealing the glass that protected the exit to the balcony. , where not only the beautiful image of the majestic Eiffel Tower could be appreciated, but, in contrast, he could see his neglected, depressed and lost face.
Katsuki touched his face, appreciating on the tips of his fingers the hints of a blond and unkempt beard and then going up to the dark circles that surrounded his eyes, denoting sleepless nights. At the image, Katsuki smirked:
"You look pathetic," he told himself.
And it really was after having lost everything. The most difficult thing now, after all, would be facing his own reflection in the mirror every day, since he would have to get used to dealing with himself.
His hectic lifestyle had never given him the opportunity to live with himself, dealing with his demons. He had realized what it really meant to be alone and honestly that terrified him more than anything in the world.
Katsuki turned on the light and from his nightstand he took a case of glasses, cleaned and adjusted them to use them to start his search.
In the wee hours of the morning, Katsuki was sitting in front of the closet, surrounded by many old boxes that contained all kinds of memories, one of the most precious, perhaps, was that box where the photos were with his parents who had come to visit. visit him 5 years ago. Other boxes were certainly trinkets that he would probably throw away in the morning and then among all of them one specific box, a small one, slipped through.
Katsuki lifted the lid and the first thing he could take in his hands was something he thought he had left at home: a scarf striped with three colors, blue, red and yellow.
And then, his nose was the first to remember.
One day when they were walking home together, Katsuki had sneezed in an adorable way causing that person to turn to smile at him tenderly.
"What?! What's with that stupid smile?! " said a young Katsuki while his cheeks turned red.
That person in front of him, considerably smaller than him, managed to stand on tiptoes to remove his scarf and begin to wrap it around Katsuki's neck.
"Here my love," he said naturally. "I don't' want you to get sick.”
After that act, that person placed a small kiss on the corner of his lips.
"Whatever." Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I'll tell the old lady if I she can wash it and tomorrow I…"
“Kacchan, you can keep it.”
He never washed it and instead had kept it in that box along with many envelopes that had said nickname written in the center: Kacchan.
Katsuki swallowed hard, letting go of the scarf to grab some of the envelopes. There were too many and each one had a date, some were from 13 years ago, others from 11 and the most recent from 9 years ago.
Katsuki bit his lower lip, hesitating whether or not to open the envelope with the most recent date, but finally decided against it to open another one.
A random one read:
To my dear Kacchan,
Sorry for not writing sooner, but between work and school it has been impossible for me to find a perfect time to write to you. And before you even scoff, it's not a "shitty" excuse, I really like to sit quietly and start writing for you because it's special, it's not about any letter, it's about you. Anyway, leaving aside my "cheesy things" as you usually complain, I want to tell you something much more cheesy (sorry) Mr. Aizawa told me that most likely he could raise my salary and... do you know what that means? (Think just a little...)
It means that possibly I will raise the money for my trip to Paris sooner and we can see each other.
Don't you think it's amazing? I am very excited about the idea because we will finally be able to see each other, I have even seen incredible places that we could visit, I would also love to meet your friends that you have told me so much about in our letters.
Kacchan, I promise I'll get the money together soon and we can be together again, I want to see you and fill you with kisses. (Sorry, again with my corniness)
How about you?
I look forward to your response, as always.
With love, Izuku.
Then he chose another card:
Tomorrow is my birthday and apparently mom is planning to throw me a surprise party. You know, she has been very suspicious regarding "my gift"... Could it be that you have something to do with it and you haven't told me anything?
How bad are you two!
Kacchan you are the worst not to telling me anything about it!
Katsuki didn't finish the letter, he folded it up and then picked up another one to start reading half of it:
Are you okay?
Did you change the mail address?
I was thinking of waiting until the end of the week to send you another letter, but when I didn't see an answer I feared the worst and I couldn't help but write to you again (sorry), but you worry me and not hearing from you fills me with anguish, write to as much as you can.
Again, Katsuki closed the letter and moved on to another:
I think I've reach the point where I don't even know why I keep trying with you.
Another unfinished letter:
That's what it will be like? Is it that easy for you?
Did you get someone else?
Why don't you just answer me that?
It would hurt less for me...
Why do you make me suffer like this?
It entertains you?
This time Katsuki crumpled the letter to throw it on the floor and start with another one, from years before:
To my dear Kacchan,
Kacchan I adopted a puppy!
You see, I was walking back home when I passed the animal shelter, then I saw a fluffy blonde dog, I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but compare him to you, so I decided to adopt him. I'm not going to lie to you (I never would), but mom was annoyed with me at first, but apparently she's gotten used to her presence.
I called him Dynamy, I sent you a photo that with the help of Iida I managed to immortalize.
How about? I look good?
Well I doubt better than you, you looked so handsome in your uniform.
Right on the back of the letter an old photo was attached with a clip where Izuku's image could be seen; a young man with white skin, rosy cheeks, green hair like his eyes, dressed in denim overalls, a long-sleeved white T-shirt and hugging the animal described in the letter.
Katsuki put aside that box full of letters, got up finding the clock that said 6 in the morning. Then he analyzed things a bit, according to the schedule, perhaps at his parents' house it would be around 7 at night, it was not an inopportune time to make a call.
Katsuki took his phone, dusted off the address book and extracted his home number from it. He patiently wait for it to ring and finally someone answered:
“Hello?“ It was his mother's voice.
"Oldie," Katsuki sighed, relieved that the number hadn't changed after so many years.
"Oh Katsuki?"
"Yes, it's me. Hi..."
"Wow, it's been a while," her mother commented.
"5 years," Katsuki muttered.
"So much?" His mother began to laugh. "I thought that trip to Paris was only one week ago."
"Don't exaggerate, old lady," Katsuki complained.
“So?"
Katsuki swallowed hard.
"So what?"
"I don't know, but everything is fine, except for you," the woman assured.
At the affirmation Katsuki looked around:
"Do you have a fucking camera in my apartment?"
"No."
"Then how?"
"Katsuki Bakugo, you are my son and I know you even better than you know yourself.”
Despite the years, Katsuki continued to retain that damned pride that characterized him so much in his youth.
"Why don't you come for a few days?" his mother suddenly asked. "Maybe it will help you spend time here."
"Yes." Katsuki didn't even think about his answer and his mouth spoke for itself. "I can schedule my flight in a couple of days."
"Well, you know you're always welcome," his mother clarified. "You can stay in your old room, your father and I will clean it up for when you're here."
"Sure." Katsuki bit his lip in concern. "Are you sure I can go?"
"Why not?”
"I don't know, maybe because I hadn't called you for a long time and I thought it would bother you."
"Katsuki, I know you and I'm not bothering. You can come and stay for a few days, we know how demanding your job is and how important it is to you."
Katsuki sighed a light "okay".
"Well, do you have anything else you want to tell me?" his mother inquired.
"No."
"Well, now..."
"Wait, there is something..." Katsuki interrupted.
"Yeah?"
The silence stretched out and Katsuki took a step back.
"It's nothing," he murmured.
"I love you too, son," said his mother, waving the phone.
His flight back home would leave at 9 pm on Sunday to arrive in the afternoon, however, a call changed everything in the middle of the week, just three days after his flight.
"Yeah?" Katsuki raised his phone.
"Katsuki?" That was his father.
"Hello old man, yes it is you to ask me about the flight the answer is yes, I bought it and it leaves on Sunday."
"Katsuki forgive me, but that's not what I called for."
"Huh? So?" That piqued his curiosity.
"I don't know how to even tell you." His father's voice sounded weak.
"What?" Katsuki snapped. "Fuck you man, you're getting on my nerves about..."
"Your mother passed away last night while she was sleeping," he blurted out like a glass of cold, causing Katsuki to freeze sitting on the couch.
"What?"
It couldn't be possible, this must be a fucking joke.
"Katsuki, I'm sorry, I was calling to…"
After that, his ears were blocked and the last thing he managed to hear apart from his father's whining, was the request to advance his trip to attend the funeral.
Was this how fucked up fate had to be?
After he had gathered the courage to talk to her and had intentions of passing the time, now he had to get to bury her, that was how easily his life had been extinguished and Katsuki couldn't feel more miserable, again, he had screwed everything up and he had failed to redeem himself.
Maybe Izuku was right after all this time and he would never change, he would always be the monster on the hill, ruthless and unaware of his loved ones.
The trip lasted about 7 hours, plus 2 hours of driving. The old man was right, it was very cold and he had done well to bring the three-colored scarf.
Finally, the Uber driver reached the street of his childhood, crossed the local businesses and parked in front of his house, which looked almost intact the day he left. Katsuki got out of the car, opened the trunk and began to unload the things, there weren't many, just a couple of suitcases.
"Wow, you wouldn't have bothered." In the distance he could hear his father's voice.
"I would never be a bother, Mr. Bakugo, it's the least I could do." Then another voice followed him, one that Katsuki thought he had forgotten after all this time.
Nothing had changed.
"After all, Mrs. Mitsuki was like a mother to me," he admitted ruefully.
After taking the bags and starting to walk towards the house, Katsuki confirmed his suspicions: with his back turned, green hair, a beige coat, a scarf around his neck and the same red shoes.
His father's eyes upon making immediate contact filled with tears:
"Katsuki" pronounced the man causing that other person to turn around instantly.
It was Izuku.
"Kacchan?" Izuku looked up at him with his big green eyes.
"Hi." It was the best he could say.
There was an awkward silence between the three of them and more when all Izuku could whisper was:
"You still got it…"
Immediately Izuku wiped his eyes with his forearm to return to Katsuki's father and hand him the flower ornament he had bought in honor of Mitsuki Bakugo.
"I am so sorry. Truly, I am very sorry for your loss,” Izuku began. "From both."
"It's okay, Izuku, we really appreciate your gesture," Masaru admitted.
"Well, I guess we'll see each other later" Izuku seemed nervous.
"Okay," Masaru confirmed.
Izuku then turned to Katsuki.
"I'm sorry," Izuku muttered.
Katsuki just nodded, allowing Izuku to walk past him to finally withdraw from his property. Inevitably Katsuki left the invisible trail that the freckled man had left in his wake, watching how he walked quickly, almost running away from the place.
"Why did he come?" Katsuki asked out of nowhere.
"Izuku is still our neighbor," Masaru clarified. "I hope you don't mind, but I thought it appropriate to let him know."
"Like why? We are nothing anymore" Katsuki scolded.
"Not for you, for your mother" Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "They were friends, she saw him as his son and he as her mother, especially after Inko died."
The old lady and Izuku? Friends?
"Come in, it sure was a long trip," Masaru commented.
"And where is she?"
"The funeral home is still preparing his body, most likely it will be ready for burial in the afternoon," his father explained.
After that Katsuki didn't ask any more questions, instead he started to unpack in his old room, which was still intact 15 years ago.
"How about?" Masaru asked from the doorway. "She and I put a lot of effort into keeping it tidy."
Katsuki just smiled.
"And he is married?"
The question threw Masaru a bit.
"Who?"
"Izuku," Katsuki clarified.
"Oh no, no. I think he is single, his house is still the same. He was certainly in free union with someone for a while, but well then things happened" Masaru tried to explain.
"What things?" Katsuki asked.
"I don't think I'm the right one to tell you. Why don't you ask him today? I also invited him to spend some time here at home after the funeral."
Katsuki after said statement just nodded.
With what face should they be seen? Although Katsuki will try to imagine that nothing had happened with Izuku, certainly that attempt had gone to waste today that he saw him again, unlike him, Izuku was still the same, it seemed that time had not passed on him.
Or so, He thought.