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The train doors slid shut usering in a cool breeze from the chilling night air. The air swirled through the car, dancing around Katsuki and weaving under his winter coat to send a shiver down his spine.
As the car lurched forward towards its next destination the interior lights dimmed. Katsuki wasn’t sure what that destination was. He didn’t care. Anywhere else was better than here.
Katsuki lifted his head to survey the rest of the train car. Save for a few sleeping passengers the train was almost deserted, not surprising at this hour of the night. The ache in his chest grew at the emptiness of the space, it amplified the hurt that had taken home in his heart earlier this evening. He hollowly wondered whether he’d feel better if the train was full. Bustling with life and laughter, people going to visit family, couples on their way home, students making plans with their friends. He wasn’t sure which option was worse. The silence gave his head too much space to think about everything that had happened.
***
A champagne bottle popped from behind them followed by a round of laughter.
The spirits of the room were light. Everyone was smiling and laughing in celebration of the annual hero gala and the new hero rankings that were only hours away at this point. Smells of food and cheers for alcohol wafted through the crowd.
Somewhere Todoroki was laughing silly at a flirty joke Sero had told, Kirishima and Kaminari were pulling Uraraka onto the dance floor while Iida chided them from the table, and Mina and Asui were gossiping at their table about predictions for the rankings. To Katsuki though, there was only one person that mattered in this crowd.
“Kacchan, let’s dance too!”
Katsuki locked onto that freckled smile. Izuku was a beacon of joy in front of him, a smile stretched from cheek to cheek and eyes ablaze with happiness. His green hair was still a mess on his head but he had cleaned up quite handsomely for the night. Katsuki couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his own lips.
“Sure thing, nerd.”
In one practiced motion, Izuku reached for Katsuki’s hand and held it tight as he began leading them towards the dance floor. Katsuki looked down at their interlaced fingers. Funny how much hands intertwined had come to mean to the blond over the years.
A slow song, Katsuki wasn’t sure which one, began to play as they took their places on the dance floor. They were in a world of their own, they always were, and in that moment all Katsuki’s world was green eyes and freckles just for him. He placed a hand on Izuku’s hips drawing him in close so they were mere inches away. He could hear Izuku’s breath hitch as red eyes met green.
“Follow my lead.”
Izuku nodded and placed a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder before lacing his free hand with Katsuki’s, his smile never leaving his face.
The song played its melancholy tune with lyrics that bled love as the two of them wove through the dance floor in perfect sync. They were always in sync. They knew each other better than anyone else, trusted each other more than anyone else. It had been hard work to get to where they were today, but god, was Katsuki thankful for every single moment that led to this. Every fight, every close call, every kiss, every whispered promise, Katsuki held each one of them locked in his heart to cherish forever. He knew that there were only more of these memories to come. He wanted a lifetime of them. A lifetime with Izuku.
A second ballad came on and the two of them continued to dance. Katsuki held eye contact with Izuku, pouring all the love he had to give to the greenette into his gaze. And Izuku returned it in kind. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned down to leave a gentle kiss on the lips he had made a home of. And when the kiss was returned, Katsuki felt peace wash through his very soul. He wanted this forever.
“Izuku,” Katsuki rasped out in a whisper, after pulling back from the gentle kiss. He watched as Izuku’s eyes fluttered open to meet his. Izuku waited with a small smile and patience for Katsuki to continue. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently.” He felt the rest of his sentence choke up in his throat. His nerves nearly prevented him from continuing. No, there was nothing to worry about. This was it. “Do you want to head out to the balcony? I wanted to ask you something.”
It wasn’t immediate, but he could see the expression on Izuku’s face shift. It was subtle. The bliss that shone in green eyes before became clouded with apprehension for a moment. Katsuki could look back on the moment and swear he saw emeralds shatter.
A heartbeat passed with still no answer. And then Izuku did something that Katsuki was not expecting. He let go of his hand.
“I… I um, I just have to run to the bathroom. Sorry… excuse me.” The last part of Izuku’s hurried excuse was aimed at someone nearby as he quickly made his way to the exit. Katsuki was left standing alone on the dance floor unsure of what to do next. Why had Izuku left him there? Why did he let go of his hand?
The crowd continued to shuffle around Katsuki as the song continued to play, but the blond’s feet wouldn’t move. Not until the song came to its end and applause for the band’s performance shook Katsuki out of his trance. He bolted for the door after Izuku.
Making his way into the event hall’s lobby he swung his head around near frantically looking for the bathrooms. Beelining for the men’s room he paused with his hand on the doorknob when he heard a soft cry come from the staircase to his left. The sounds of hushed weeping pricked his ears like it was the call of a siren luring him to the source.
When Katsuki reached the bottom of the grand staircase at the front of the event hall he found Izuku sitting on the landing, knees pulled to his chest and silent tears pouring down his cheeks. He wore an expression of sorrow that made Katsuki’s chest ache. Why was he so upset? What had Katsuki said to upset him?
These questions swirled around his head, a lump of dread beginning to form in his throat, as he slowly ascended the stairs to join Izuku.
“What’s the matter, Izuku?” Katsuki finally asked as he reached the top of the landing.
Izuku’s gaze was lost in space and it took a moment for him to focus his attention up to Katsuki who was standing before him. When he did lock eyes with Katsuki, all the blond saw was pain.
“I know what you’re going to ask,” Izuku whispered raggedly.
Katsuki felt his heart sink into his stomach.
“You do?” was all he could say. The words he had prepared, rehearsed, poured his soul into to write, fell short on his tongue leaving him completely speechless.
Izuku nodded glumly, his eyes dropping to the ground at his feet as he pulled his knees closer to himself. Katsuki didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say to make the green haired boy smile like he had been just minutes before. Didn’t understand why now Izuku was crying on the landing of a staircase instead of holding his hand on the dance floor.
“And that upsets you?” Katsuki asked. He kept his tone level, not wanting to spook the greenette more by getting upset too.
At Katsuki’s question, Izuku gave no response this time. Instead he continued to stare hard at the ground while a single thick tear rolled down his cheek.
It felt like the air in Katsuki’s lungs was starting to suffocate him. His speech was lost to him, and he tried his best to gather his words together to fix whatever mess was unraveling. He tried to compose himself with a deep breath.
“Izuku…” Katsuki began, getting down on both knees before the boy with shattered emeralds in his eyes. He placed his hands on Izuku’s knees, willing him to look up at him, willing him to see every emotion that was burning through red eyes right now. When they locked eyes again, Katsuki continued, “You are the most important part of my life. I love you with all of me, more and more every single day, and I am so–.”
“Stop.”
Izuku’s whisper was harsh and quick, halting Katsuki in surprise. Red and green eyes broke their gaze.
“What?”
“Please just, stop.”
Izuku said those three words with so much pain in his voice that Katsuki started to feel tears prickling the corners of his eyes too. No. He wouldn’t cry.
“Why?” Katsuki croaked out, voice thick with unspoken emotion.
A beat passed between them as Izuku weighed his next words carefully, seeming to accept the weight of them before he spoke them.
“I can’t.”
“You can’t, what?” Katsuki asked immediately.
Another beat.
“I can’t marry you, Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice broke on his name. New tears formed paths down freckled cheeks as he looked up at Katsuki, the pain in his eyes contradicting the words from his mouth.
A silence stretched between the two of them. Katsuki could feel the weight of his mother’s wedding band heavy in his pocket. The slim band of gold tucked into his wallet, next to a picture of Izuku and him on a hike, suddenly felt like lead. Katsuki mulled over Izuku’s words trying to make sense of them. Trying to make sense of what had brought them here.
“Are you serious?” he managed to whisper, still locking eyes with Izuku. The charged eye contact was enough to cause Izuku to look away again. Was this actually happening?
“You don’t want to marry me?” Katsuki asked again, this time more accusatory in tone.
“I do, Kacchan, I just… I can’t.”
“And why the hell not?” Katsuki pressed, his voice raising. “I don’t even get to properly ask you to marry me and you’re already shooting me down? At least give me a reason.”
He didn’t want to be angry. In the back of his head he knew he should be calmly talking this out with Izuku, but his body was flaring hot and his mind couldn’t keep up with this conversation. His fear and disbelief were already leaking through his words and his expression. It did nothing to calm the distraught Izuku in front of him who was unable to give an answer and shook his head in rapid succession as a sob escaped his lips, followed quickly by another two.
“Izuku,” Katsuki choked out. His voice was thick with emotion. The tears he had been trying to hold back were starting to flood in his eyes blurring his vision at the corners. He reached out and placed his hands on the greenette’s shoulders. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he pleaded gently. “Whatever’s going on in that head of yours, we can figure it out. We always figure it out. Together. We always do it together.”
Izuku still didn’t answer, averting his gaze off to the side as his sobs continued in full, his shoulders shaking and hands trembling. Katsuki waited. He waited for the boy who always had a ramble, always had a thought, always had something to say, to speak to him. But all he got was a silent shake of Izuku’s head and more tears.
“You always have something to say. Why not now? Why can’t you marry me? Do you-,” Katsuki started to choke on his words again, a sob in his throat threatening to spill out as well. “Do you not love me anymore?”
“I do, I do love you, Kacchan,” Izuku was quick to correct through a cry. “I love you so much.”
“So then why no?” Katsuki pushed, the desperation in his voice bleeding out. “Is it the timing? Is it too soon? We can wait. Hell, we can wait for whenever you’re ready. I’m in no rush. We have the rest of our lives to figure it out, Izuku, please just, talk to me.”
“I can’t marry you, Kacchan.”
Silence stretched between them again. Katsuki could feel cracks beginning to form along his heart.
“So after all of this,” Katsuki disrupted the quiet again, demanding to be heard, continuing to reach for an explanation. “After everything we’ve been through together. You’re just gonna give it all up? I… I can’t give that up, Izuku. I love you, goddamnit I want to spend the rest of my life with you and you… you say you can’t? Did I… do something?”
Izuku shook his head, hands wringing themselves together in his lap. Katsuki reached out again, lacing their hands together and squeezing.
“Then what is it? Whatever it is I… I promise I can change. I…I know I’ve come a long way from how I used to be, but I will keep growing. You help me to keep growing.”
At that, new sobs were pulled from Izuku’s throat, ugly and loud and heartbreaking, his head hanging low and his whole body shaking. The cracks along Katsuki’s heart deepened.
Katsuki had never been one to ramble, that had always been Izuku’s job. But at that moment he found himself unable to stop talking, his mouth moving before his mind had a chance to form sentences. And the boy he loved, the boy he had loved since he caught his tired body in the rain, that boy was silent.
“Izuku…” Katsuki wasn’t good at this.
Izuku kept crying, shaking his head and squeezing onto Katsuki’s hands like a lifeline and flooding the blond full of hope, before pulling his hands away from Katsuki’s to wrap around himself.
“Just… why can’t you give me a reason?” Katsuku pleaded. His voice was soft. Softer than he had ever heard it. He wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but looked down to find dozens of tear drops littering the carpeting below him.
Izuku sniffled. He stared at Katsuki’s empty hands before turning his eyes up to meet the blond. Katsuki saw heartbroken resolve etched into green eyes. It hurt. Izuku hurt. The tears never stopped cascading, staining his beautiful face. Still while he cried he was beautiful.
“I’m sorry, Kacchan.”
Katsuki could have sworn he heard the shattering as the cracks in his chest broke. His heart slipped through Izuku’s warm hands that had held it lovingly for years, and dropped to the ground, fracturing to pieces.
“So that’s it then?” Katsuki’s voice was barely above a whisper as he pulled his hands back to lap. Everything was numb.
“I… I should go,” Izuku whimpered out quickly. He scrambled to his feet in a hurry, eyes downcast, refusing to meet Katsuki’s. Katsuki tried to move just as fast, getting to his feet and reaching out for Izuku one more time as he began to descend the stairs. “Goodbye Kacchan.”
Katsuki listened to the footsteps of the greenette hurry down the stairs and the sounds of renewed sobbing getting fainter as the love of his life left him standing all alone. His hand dropped back down to his side. Cold and empty.
“Goodbye… Izuku.”
***
Somehow Katsuki made his way back down to the event hall in a haze. His feet moved by themselves but his mind was far away. Away in the driver's seat while Izuku laughed in the passenger’s, away in the dark of their dorm rooms whispering promises to each other, away in the heat of battle jumping in from of an attack to save the other, away in the soft morning light and the peace of waking up to green eyes and freckles every morning-
A champagne bottle pop and a loud cheer shattered the bubble of memories that had surfaced.
In front of him Mina was holding the Dom Peignon bottle that Katsuki had brought for the occasion, splashed out everywhere from the cork pop. Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero were grinning ear to ear cheering congratulations.
He had told his friends his plans for the evening of proposing to Izuku. For once, he had opened up to his crazy classmates that had wormed their ways into his heart, he just hadn’t been able to contain his joy at the prospect of spending the rest of his life with the man who had always held his heart. He wanted the night to be perfect and for him and Izuku to be surrounded by the people they cared about most, while riding the high of their engagement. But now there was nothing to celebrate.
Sero was the first to notice. The applause dwindled. The celebration stopped.
“Bakugo, what is it?” Sero asked.
Silence followed.
Katsuki felt like he was falling. The ground beneath him must have opened up and left him in freefall. If he looked up he would see Izuku’s smiling face and a hand reaching down to pull him out of the abyss. Right? But there was no Izuku. There was no hand. It had all slipped beyond his reach. Instead, Katsuki’s eye stayed glued to the floor.
When he did look up he knew his silent flow of tears, that hadn’t stopped since the staircase, were on display for everyone.
“Oh honey,” Mina cooed, handing the bottle to Kaminari before stepping forward to wrap Katsuki into her hug.
Kirishima’s mouth hung open with eyebrows raised in surprise, unable to speak.
“Where’s Midoriya?” Kaminari added.
“I called it, didn’t I?”
The last voice came as a whispered aside from somewhere to Katsuki’s right. He wasn’t sure who the voice belonged to, but with so many people filling the event hall, he was sure it was some stupid extra that felt the need to butt into his and Izuku’s business and from the sound of it had been making bets on their relationship. Under any other circumstance, Katsuki wouldn’t have hesitated to bite the fucker’s head off with a few blasts and lots of cursing, but the fight was drained out of him. The guy had been right after all.
His friends continued to console him. Offering words of comfort and trying to soothe the hurt. But Katsuki continued to cry silently nonetheless, their words falling on deaf ears. His mind was far away again. His heart ached more than any injury he had ever sustained. His body was still on that landing. He wasn’t sure he would ever leave that spot.
Katsuki couldn’t help but dwell on where things might have gone wrong between them. Because after all of it, Izuku still never gave him a reason.
***
A cool breeze wove between the two of them, sending the leaves dancing and the branches rustling.
Katsuki and Izuku were laying across the hood of the Bakugo family truck overlooking their hometown from a lookout point high up on the road. It was early November and winter was just around the corner. That hadn’t stopped the two of them from taking a scenic drive through the mountains today, windows down and music blaring like a summer evening, while they stopped at every trail they could find to explore the colorful autumn forest.
Now though, the sun was beginning to set, washing the town below in gold, and the two of them lounged together in peaceful silence admiring how small their school looked from up here.
“I can’t believe we graduate in just a few months,” Izuku sighed. He scooted up higher on the car’s windshield, angling his body closer to Katsuki’s.
Another gust of wind blew between them and Katsuki caught sight of Izuku shivering from the corner of his eye. When he looked over Izuku’s freckled cheeks were flushed pink from the cold.
“Here take my flannel. Don’t need you catching a cold before winter break starts and messin’ up all my plans.” Katsuki untied the checkered shirt from his waist and wrapped it around the greenette, who smiled at the gesture. Even after dating for two years at this point, that smile always made Katsuki’s heart skip a beat. He offered up a smirk back.
Pleased with Katsuki’s flannel now offering him warmth, Izuku grinned impossibly further and cuddled up all the way to Katsuki. Like muscle memory, the blond lifted his arm to allow Izuku room to fit perfectly next to him and like two puzzle pieces they settled back down together.
“I can’t wait for us to leave that madhouse of a dorm and have our own place together,” Katsuki remarked after a few seconds, bringing the conversation back to the subject of graduation.
“Kacchan, that ‘madhouse’ was perfect for us and you know you love it,” Izuku teased through a laugh. “Think of all the memories we made in those hallways. It’s been our home for three years, it’ll be weird to see a new group of hero students come in and walk where we did. All the friends we made, all the late nights, all the shared plans, it was perfect.”
Katsuki tried to fight the smile on his lips as fond memories played through his mind like a silent film.
“Yeah well, it still doesn’t change the fact that it was with eighteen other extras. I only wanna space for us. None of them are invited.”
Izuku continued to laugh at Katsuki’s complaining. They both knew those extras had become the best group of friends they would ever have, and secretary Katsuki did hope those friends would stick around after graduation. He knew Izuku did too.
“I can’t wait for that too,” Izuku hummed, nuzzling closer. “We can decorate however we want, get lots of plants, ooh maybe we could start somewhere in the city to get our footing and then one day move out to the suburbs and get a big house with lots of windows, and a nice big kitchen with rust orange cabinets and…”
As Izuku muttered about his ideas for their future shared home, Katsuki drank in every word like it was gospel.
He watched as Izuku lit up in excitement and felt that same infectious energy course through him. He gazed upon the beautiful boy beside him and saw his future. A future he couldn’t be more excited for.
***
And so Katsuki sat there.
Watching the lights from the city blur together into streaks of purple and green and red, as the train took him far away.
Kirishima had offered him a ride home. Sero had offered to let him crash at his place. But the train felt better. The distance from where the boy he loved slipped through his fingers grew, but with that physical distance grew the heaviness in his heart.
He had called his parents to let them know he was coming to stay with them for a few days. He had initially gone back to his and Izuku’s apartment in hopes of finding Izuku at home where they could have a proper talk and figure all of this mess out together. All he was greeted with though was an empty apartment, dark and cold, and a letter to him on the kitchen pass through that only drove the dagger deeper into his heart.
The thought of being in their apartment by himself was enough to send Katsuki into a full breakdown. Being surrounded by reminders of Izuku, his smell, his things, the lingering memories of what could’ve, would’ve, should’ve been, it was all too much.
“Katsuki, I am so, so sorry, son,” his father had consoled him on the phone. It was clear how upset he was by the news Katsuki had shared with them on his way to the train station. “Izuku was so special, you two were perfect together, he would have made such a lovely partner.”
“What a shame he’s fucked in the head,” his mother had interjected from behind.
“Mitsuki!”
“The kid has been through so much, that kind of trauma comes with some serious baggage of course he can’t commit. Katsuki you don’t want to get dragged down by that.”
Katsuki hadn’t realized he had started crying again as he recounted the conversation he had with his parents. His hands were fisted on his knees and his teeth were ground tight.
His mother was wrong. There was nothing wrong with Izuku. Through everything, Izuku had remained his vision of beauty, both inside and out. He loved him. And as the train carried him further away from green eyes and a freckled smile, Katsuki knew he would always love Izuku.
***
Izuku didn’t want to be here.
It was the night of the hero rankings and like every year, his friends from UA were holding a celebration. Izuku used to look forward to these nights, but it had been three years since the last time he had been to one. Three years since he last saw Katsuki.
To this day Izuku doesn’t know what had all gone wrong. Why he hadn’t been able to say yes to spending the rest of his life with the man he loved most. The man he had loved since they were kids. The man he would always love. He supposed you just don’t know the answer sometimes until it’s happening right in front of you, until golden hair and fiery eyes get down on their knees and ask you what you always dreamed of hearing.
Why hadn’t he been ready? Why did he leave Katsuki standing with shattered rubies in his eyes on the staircase landing?
Why did he let Katsuki go?
Izuku was still haunted by the ghosts of that night. Of pleaded promises, of desperate declarations. Katsuki’s words were there when he woke, when he worked, when he tried to sleep, the memories playing like sick lullabies every night.
Izuku’s eyes glassed over as he sipped his glass of champagne slowly, battling the onslaught of emotions and trying to blend in with the background. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself. He’d stay long enough to make his friends happy and then catch the quickest train back home, far away from this cursed hall.
Slow music started to waft gently through the crowd signaling everyone and their partners to make their way to the dance floor. That’s when Izuku saw him.
Katsuki’s hair was a little shorter than he last remembered it but still in its signature spikes. Crimson eyes gleamed fiercely and a smile played at his lips. He was handsome. He always was. But seeing him now was like a cool washcloth to his fevered body, water after years in the desert. Izuku hadn’t forgotten how the blond’s presence alone was enough to calm his ever running mind. He couldn’t help but smile.
But that smile fell almost as soon as it formed.
Beside Katsuki, and leading him to the dance floor to the sway of a romantic melody, was Kirishima. Izuku watched as the redhead grabbed Katsuki’s hand in his and pulled him into an embrace with a grin from ear to ear. Katsuki leaned into the touch as if it was second nature and allowed himself to be swept up Kirishima’s arms as he led him around the dance floor to the soft tune.
Izuku felt the phantom presence of Katsuki holding him like that. He yearned for the days that Katsuki would lead him around the dance floor in that same way. And to see Katsuki finding that with another only made that phantom presence grow heavier.
What twisted the dagger in Izuku’s chest even further was Katsuki’s smile.
It was nothing like the crestfallen expression Izuku had left Katsuki wearing on the landing. On the dance floor in the arms of Kirishima, the blond was truly happy. Carefree and lively. In love.
The tears started to fall then. First a stray one on his cheek and then two more until Izuku’s vision started to blur. It hurt. All of it hurt so much. Izuku could feel the cracks in his heart reopening at the sight of what he could have had. What he would have had. What he should have had.
Izuku should have left then. He had seen too much. But he felt gravity keeping him near the blond. A force so strong he couldn’t bear to fight against. Not when he was so close to Katsuki after all these years.
And then Katsuki did something that Izuku wished he hadn’t seen.
As the crowd of dancers swept Katsuki and Kirishima back in the direction of Izuku, he watched powerlessly as Katsuki reached into his pocket and pulled something out. In the glow of the spotlights, the glint of a golden ring caught Izuku’s eye and a pit of despair formed in his stomach. It was Katsuki’s mother’s ring. The same ring Katsuki had presented to Izuku that night.
Gravity shifted then. He couldn’t take it anymore.
With less grace than he cared to admit, Izuku made for the door. Only as he scrambled past chairs and guests did he realize he had gotten up fast enough to send his own chair toppling to the ground. It didn’t matter though. None of it mattered any more. All he cared about was getting as far away from here as possible.
Tears stung Izuku’s eyes the whole way to the train station and he never looked back once. He attempted to choke back sob after sob to no avail. His heart was ablaze. All of his emotions poured out of his chest like a dam breaking.
When Izuku eventually boarded the night train out of the city he was relieved to have the car to himself so he could let it all out, sob until his throat was raw, until his tears were dry. But as the train pulled out of the station a deep seated melancholy took root in Izuku’s chest that silenced his sobs to silent tears.
Everything hurt. Izuku felt completely raw. And yet what hurt the most was that he was glad that Katsuki was happy. He was glad the man he loved more than anyone in the world had found someone who could love him in the way he deserved to be loved. Someone to patch up the shredded tapestry that Izuku had left him with. Someone who deserved to be the picture in his wallet that family members would admire with care, that friends would tease with affection, that strangers would wonder about with curiosity.
Katsuki had found the real thing. Something that Izuku hadn’t been able to give him. Something Izuku had been too afraid he couldn’t give and had run away before he could have really tried. But couldn’t he have? They had been in love after all.
Izuku was still in love. He knew now after seeing Katsuki tonight that he would always be in love with him.
But Katsuki deserved to be happy. He didn’t deserve to be held down by pained memories of Izuku. One day he wouldn’t remember all of these problems. He would go on living and loving the way he deserved.
And at this Izuku smiled.
The tears never stopped as the city lights faded and the train took Izuku into the night. He wasn’t sure when or if they ever would. And that was okay.
Izuku made his peace that he would always love Katsuki and that was a pain he was willing to carry with him forever. He would never forget Kacchan.
*
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Katsuki caught a glimpse of green fleeing the event hall.
He knew it was Izuku.
He had been watching him from the corner of his eye the entire night. He couldn’t help it.
The ring in his closed fist suddenly carried the weight of that night years ago, and he returned it to his pocket.
He would never forget that love.
He would never forget Izuku.