Work Text:
Missy has been Katsuki’s best friend since he was eleven.
He was an incredibly irresponsible kid — rowdy, prone to meltdowns and fits of anger — so when his parents allowed him to get a cat, it was honestly a shock. Despite months of asking, he still hadn’t expected them to agree.
(His mother later told him that they had hoped it would teach him patience. She also noted that it didn’t.)
They looked at plenty of cats, but Katsuki didn’t really connect with most of them — until they came across an enclosure with a lone bobtail kitten sitting in the corner. What caught Katsuki’s attention most is that she was the only one on her own.
He had just kind of watched her, for a while, until she noticed him and came over to investigate. He offered her his hand to sniff, and she did, giving his knuckles a soft headbutt when she was done.
That was the moment Katuski knew he had found his cat.
He hung out with her for what was probably an hour at the shop, watching her run around and giving her pets whenever she slowed down enough that he could. She was fast, and absolutely loved to run, and he adored her immediately. The second they locked eyes, every one of the other cats were all but forgotten.
They brought her home later that day, and Katsuki promptly dubbed her Missile Launcher.
His mom tried to talk him out of the name, but he was set on it — it was perfect for her, as far as he was concerned, and she was his cat. Why would he give her a name he didn’t really like?
They ended up compromising with ‘Missy’, as a nickname.
Missy quickly became Katsuki’s whole world when he was home — he fed her every day, played with her, and spent hours upon hours just laying with her on his chest. He spoiled her as much as he could (being a preteen with no money of his own to speak of), and she loved him — even though she hid from most other people, if she heard his voice, she came running.
He also talked to her. A lot. Most of it was mundane everyday stuff, but she was also who he came to so he could vent if he had a particularly bad day. He told her his deepest secrets, stuff he didn’t even want to tell his parents. Anxieties, small personal victories, even crushes (or, rather, crush — Kirishima is still the only person he’s ever liked that way). It felt kind of like having a diary, except the words were just between them — not on paper or out there on the internet, where other people might see them.
After Kamino, Katsuki spent his first night home cuddling with Missy, finding himself in the rare state of being lost for words. It was just so… much, and he didn’t even know how to articulate it, but having Missy reminded him that he was safe, at home, and even if he hadn’t quite processed it yet, the whole thing was over.
He was fucking heartbroken to find out that he couldn’t bring her to the dorms.
He knew why they couldn’t allow pets, but having to live apart from her felt like losing his security blanket, and after just going through such a major traumatic event, it fucking sucked.
He still visited as much as he could, but the first few weeks of waking up and realizing that he wouldn’t get to see her face were hard. All he had were the pictures his mom sent him (which he never asked her to do, but she must’ve known how hard it would be on him, because the photos were daily whenever he couldn’t be home).
When she told him that Missy was wandering around the house looking for him, Katsuki cried. A lot. An embarrassing amount, honestly.
It got harder before it got easier (being unable to cuddle with her after the other two times he almost fucking died was the worst), but after high school he was finally able to take her with him to his new apartment. The apartment with Eijirou.
Given how averse Missy was to most people, Katsuki was concerned that she wouldn’t like having Eijirou around all the time, but those worries turned out to be unfounded — she adored him almost as much as she adored Katsuki. He was the only other person who could touch her, pet her, play with her, and even carry her around like a baby (which was really more Eijirou’s thing than Katsuki’s).
They lived together through all of college, but Eijirou took a job in Hokkaido right after graduation, so Katsuki ended up downsizing to an apartment by himself. Eijirou was the only person he’d ever wanted to live with, so if he was gone, it would just have to be Katsuki and Missy.
Katsuki missed him like hell — there aren’t enough phone calls and late-night texts in the world to replace the experience of having him right next door that Katsuki had gotten so used to over the past seven years — but Missy made being alone feel more bearable, even when work sucked or he ate instant ramen for seven nights in a row because he didn’t have the time to go grocery shopping.
When Eijirou eventually moved back to work under Fatgum again, he and Katsuki didn’t get another place together — not that it mattered, because he was at Katsuki’s place more often than not when their free time matched up.
Missy still adored him, even after such a long absence, and Katsuki couldn’t help but think that she and him were almost the same when it came to Eijirou. They both loved him, but while Missy was able to express it openly, Katsuki was already into year ten or so of swallowing his own feelings and trying to pretend that he could ever like Eijirou a normal amount for just ‘friends’.
Missy heard a lot about Eijirou in those eleven years. And, to her credit, she was an excellent listener.
She was there for almost everything. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done without her around to talk to.
Katsuki was twenty-six when Missy got sick.
It seemed harmless at first — she was eating less, being pickier, but neither Katsuki or the vet could figure out why aside from the fact that she was getting old. He just adjusted her diet until she was eating almost the amount she did before, and he figured that would be fine.
Then she started deteriorating. Fast.
She started eating less again. Didn’t want any of the different food brands he tried, no matter how expensive or specialized they were. No interest in treats.
She had stopped running around at top speed a few years before, but Katsuki still noticed that she was playing less — and then not at all. She had no interest in her toys, and just wanted to lay in the sun or with him when she wasn’t doing anything else.
He wanted to believe that it was temporary. That in a month or so, she’d be back to normal and he could go back to doting on her with Eijirou and playing with her and she’d live five more years or more so he could actually have the time to prepare to say goodbye.
But he’s not stupid.
When she stopped getting up from her spot in the sun, he knew it was time to let her go.
That didn’t make it any easier. He didn’t want to do it alone, so he ended up asking his parents and Eijirou to be there with him when he took her into the vet for the last time.
They all came.
His mom held one of his hands in a vise grip mirroring his own, but Eijirou’s hand in his other was gentle and reassuring, running his thumb over Katsuki’s knuckles.
Katsuki thought about singing her a song as she went out, but he was already too choked up to say much more than ‘goodbye’. He can’t be sure, because he wasn’t really aware of everything going on, but he doesn’t think he was the only one fighting tears.
It was sort of like Kamino all over again — it didn’t feel real, even though it was happening right there in front of him. He just couldn’t grasp the idea of living life without her, when he’d spent so many of his critical moments with her by his side.
He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. But he doesn’t think he ever would’ve been.
He managed to hold his shit together long enough to get back to his apartment, but seeing her bed set up on the windowsill just broke him. She would never lay there in the sun again. Never yowl along to his music or rub up on his legs for attention or curl up on his chest.
Katsuki hadn’t initially wanted Eijirou to stay with him, but he was grateful for the arms that caught him when he collapsed. They sat on his couch for who knows how many hours — Katsuki cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, but even when the silence settled over them, Eijirou didn’t let go, so Katsuki didn’t try to leave.
At some point, Eijirou carried him to bed, apparently deciding that Katsuki needed sleep more than anything else. Katsuki didn’t even have the energy to argue — or ask Eijirou to stay, but he did that anyways, taking the opposite side of Katsuki’s double bed after tucking him in.
Eijirou held his hand underneath the covers, running his thumb over Katsuki’s knuckles just like he did when they were at the vet.
And it helped.
Now, it’s the third day without Missy, and Katsuki is still taking it hard. He picked up her ashes earlier, in an ornate little box with both of her names engraved on the plaque: Missile Launcher, aka “Missy”.
He managed not to cry the whole time he was there, but it’s been a struggle to keep that up since he got home.
He sets the box on his mantlepiece — a temporary place of honor, until he can give her the funeral she deserves. His mom suggested burying Missy in the family cemetery, up at his grandpa’s place, and Katsuki agreed that that’s probably the best choice. He can’t think of a better place to lay her to rest — she is family, after all.
Was. She was family. The correction hurts Katsuki to think about.
He can’t bring himself to do much of anything for the next few weeks, mostly zoning out in his bed with the TV on for background noise. He manages to eat a solid two meals a day, which he knows isn’t enough, but it’s the most he can force himself to do. He finds himself remembering his dad’s favorite saying: “Anything worth doing is worth doing partway.” It makes him feel a little bit better about the fact that he only brushes his teeth or showers when he can remember to, in between the brain fog and intermittent crying.
Katsuki is finding, not for the first time, that grief is an incredibly exhausting thing. He doesn’t really want to do much of anything except lay there and think (or, rather, try not to think). He forces himself to eat, does nothing all day, drags himself out of bed for another meal, and then sleeps for more consecutive hours than any person probably should. Rinse, repeat, every single day.
His parents check on him a couple of times — after he misses the first few phone calls, they let themselves into his apartment with food and some of Katsuki’s comfort items that he hasn’t needed since high school. His dad cleans up around the place, and his mom forces him up and out of bed just so he can walk around a bit before they both sit on his couch and Katsuki curls up into her side.
He doesn’t remember the last time he cuddled with his mom, but he wishes he’d done it more in the past, because it makes him feel better — only a bit, but it’s better than just feeling like shit.
They don’t stay overnight, but both of his parents give him a kiss on the forehead before they leave and his mom reminds him that he can visit anytime, or ask them to come over if he wants. He says he’ll keep that in mind.
Eijirou mostly texts — even if he doesn’t get a response, he sends ‘good morning’s and well-wishes and reassurances and ‘good night’s. He calls sometimes, and while Katsuki doesn’t pick up, he still leaves a voicemail every time. Katsuki listens to those.
“Hey, Katsuki. I know you probably still feel like crap, but I thought I’d see if you felt up to talking anyways. I hope you’re doing okay, even though things suck right now. If you need me, just text me or call me or something and I’ll come over. I don’t even have to stay, I can just drop off some food or whatever else too if that’s what you want. Just let me know. I really hope you feel better soon. Bye.”
He’s so sweet it makes Katsuki’s heart ache — but not the same ache as the grief is giving him. It’s a different, good kind of ache.
Katsuki hasn’t asked Eijirou to come over much. He brought food once, and they ate together, but he left right after that. The only other time, Katsuki asked him for help washing his hair, because he felt too tired and achy to do it himself, but it really desperately needed to get done (because he looked, and felt, like a complete mess). And Eijirou did — he even insisted on blow-drying it, even though Katsuki said he could do it himself. He hung around long enough to determine that Katsuki didn’t need anything else, and then he left (after giving Katsuki one of his signature bear hugs, which was greatly appreciated).
Katsuki wants to ask Eijirou to stay — stay until the morning, stay until he feels better, stay until things finally feel okay again. But he doesn’t want to be a burden. Eijirou has his own life, and the fact that Katsuki knows he would set it aside just for Katsuki’s sake is exactly why he doesn’t want to make that request.
That doesn’t make him want Eijirou any less, though.
The next time he reaches out to Eijirou, it’s three in the morning — and he knows it’s late, and he honestly expects Eijirou to be asleep, but he can’t sleep and the solitude of his apartment suddenly feels suffocating.
He’s just so acutely aware of the fact that Missy isn’t there, and it hurts. He can’t stop crying. He can’t breathe. His chest hurts and he just can’t stand to be alone all night with no one to talk to because if he has to stay here, trapped with only his thoughts and the crushing weight of how silent it is, he thinks he might genuinely die.
So he shoots Eijirou a text in one of the brief moments when he can breathe well enough to focus.
i miss her
That’s the core of it, really. He misses Missy. And the grief is killing him.
Eijirou’s response is remarkably quick — and the text tone breaking through the silence makes Katsuki feel better immediately. Not by much, but better nonetheless.
i know
Another text comes in before Katsuki can respond.
do you want me to come over?
Honestly, a part of him doesn't. It's not like Eijirou has never seen him cry before — he's probably seen more of Katsuki crying than even his own mother at this point — but it's been years since Katsuki felt this pathetic and broken. He doesn't want Eijirou to see him like this.
But the other part of him, the part that knows having Eijirou with him will make him feel even slightly better — the part that understands that Eijirou makes everything better — wins out.
yes
please
There can’t be more than ten seconds before Eijirou’s reply comes through.
on my way
God, he’s so sweet. And Katsuki feels a lot of things about it — relieved that Eijirou is coming, guilty for bothering him, touched that Eijirou is even willing to do this for him. It all kind of melds together with the grief and he finds himself crying even harder, for more reasons than just missing his cat (even if that’s still the main one).
He’s so checked out of everything that he doesn’t even notice Eijirou come in (of course Eijirou has a key; Katsuki wasn’t going to not give him one) until a gentle hand settles on his bicep.
“Hey, ‘Tsuki.” Eijirou’s voice is soft and caring. It’s comforting. “Can I touch you?”
Katsuki can be kind of on and off about touch when he’s upset. With Eijirou, it’s usually ‘on’.
He nods.
“Okay,” Eijirou agrees. He takes a moment to settle into the empty side of Katsuki’s bed, only leaving a little space between them, before he rests a hand on Katsuki’s arm again.
Katsuki rolls over, right into Eijirou’s chest. It makes him feel like a kid again — memories of late nights in the dorms, woken up by intense, traumatic nightmares and finding safety in Eijirou’s room, cuddled together under Eijirou’s godawful camouflage bedspread with only one pillow for the two of them to share.
Eijirou is safe. He’s Katsuki’s safe space. Always has been.
Katsuki is using one of Eijirou’s arms as a pillow, but he wraps the other loosely around Katsuki’s waist — solid and reassuring, but not trapping him in. It grounds Katsuki somewhat, brings him out of his own head and into the moment, and he tries to just focus on the fact that Eijirou is there so he can stop thinking about anything else.
Eijirou’s hair is kind of falling into his eyes — he started cutting it short ages ago, but it’s still long enough that it gets in the way if it’s not gelled up. The scar over his right eye is barely visible after all this time, especially in the low light, but it doesn’t take Katsuki long to find it when he looks, even among the smattering of newer marks. His brows are furrowed and he’s frowning a little — a look Katsuki has long since come to recognize as concern.
Katsuki feels like he makes Eijirou concerned a lot more often than he has any right to.
“I feel better,” he says quietly, after a moment. “A little.”
Eijirou rests their foreheads together. “That’s good. Can I do anything else for you?”
“Just —” Katsuki hesitates — chokes on the word, really — but manages to make the request after another minute or two. “Just… stay.”
“Of course. I’m not leaving until you physically shove me out that door.” Eijirou’s smile is trying to make it come off as a joke, but his tone is sincere. And Katsuki completely believes him.
“Good.”
Eijirou nods once, and then they’re both quiet again for a while.
Katsuki is the one who breaks the silence. “We’re gonna bury Missy’s ashes.” He doesn’t know why he’s deciding to say this now. Just to have something to talk about, to fill the silence? Because he’s hoping he can pass some of the burden he’s been carrying off onto Eijirou? Both?
“Yeah?” Eijirou’s voice is a low rumble — it’s one of the most soothing voices Katsuki’s ever heard. “That sounds nice.”
“Yeah. Up at my grandpa’s place — he’s got this whole family graveyard on his property. My mom thought it’d be nice to put her there.”
Eijirou considers that for a few seconds. “And you’re okay with that? You don’t want to keep her with you?”
Katsuki sighs softly, admitting, “I don’t know. I mean, I do, but at the same time, just thinking about her makes me upset. I — I don’t want to let go, but I can’t keep living like this, you know?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” The thumb of Eijirou’s hand brushes gently over Katsuki’s side, and he hesitates before asking, “Hey, ‘Tsuki?”
“What?”
“If you were struggling so much… why didn’t you tell me?” Before Katsuki can respond, he continues, “I want to help. I care about you, you know that. I want to be here to support you if you need it.”
It’s Katsuki’s turn to hesitate, turning words over in his mind to try and come up with the right answer.
Eijirou interrupts his thoughts, speaking again. “The actual answer, Katsuki. Not the answer you think I want to hear.”
Katsuki has a love-hate relationship with Eijirou’s ability to read his mind. Usually it saves him from having to form coherent sentences when he’s upset, but it can also be so annoying sometimes.
He pouts, but mumbles, “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Don’t be stupid. You could never bother me.”
“You don’t have to lie for the sake of my feelings, Ei.”
“I’m not. I love spending time with you, and I love helping you. I told you I’d drop everything to come if you asked, and I fucking meant it.”
The swear catches Katsuki off guard — Ei barely swears, and never at Katsuki. Any arguments he may have had die in his throat.
Ei looks — well, not angry, but certainly upset, and sort of offended. “Katsuki, you mean more to me than anything else. You know I wouldn’t lie to you. I don’t care if I have to miss work or cancel plans to be with you. You come first. Always.”
Katsuki feels like he’s going to cry again — he doesn’t know why, because he doesn’t really have a name for how he feels after being so thoroughly chastised in the sweetest way imaginable.
“Okay,” he whispers, and then, “Sorry.”
“I forgive you,” Ei assures him gently before pressing a kiss to his forehead.
That must be too much for Katsuki’s fragile emotional state, because he starts sobbing again, burying his face into Eijirou’s chest. Eijirou doesn’t say anything about it, but he tightens his hold on Katsuki’s waist and pulls him in, closing the last of the space between them.
He doesn’t know exactly how long it takes, but Katsuki’s still pressed into Eijirou when he finally drifts off to sleep.
He ends up inviting Eijirou to come when they bury Missy. Partially because he intended to in the first place, and partially because Eijirou has basically been living at Katsuki’s apartment for the past week and a half — Katsuki has tried to get him to leave a couple times, but both of them know that Katsuki’s full of shit, and Ei is nothing if not stubborn.
(Both attempts were firmly shut down with a reminder that Eijirou isn’t leaving until Katsuki physically makes him. It’s not like Katsuki couldn’t do that, it’s just that it’d be fucking hard — what with Ei being built like a brick shithouse — and also he doesn’t actually want Ei to leave.)
So he’s been here, hanging out with Katsuki and eating his food and taking up the empty space in Katsuki’s bed that Missy used to occupy. And it’s honestly been a breath of fresh air after the past month or so.
He insisted on driving all the way up to Katsuki’s grandpa’s place, which is why Katsuki has the luxury of staring out the window at the countryside as they speed down the dirt roads. He holds Missy’s little box in his lap, keeping her close.
His grandfather, Ryuuji — his mom’s father — lives on an expansive farm property nestled in the center of the countryside. It’s not much of a farm anymore, since his folks haven’t been healthy enough for farm work in a long time, but the fields are still beautiful, and there’s cherry trees all around in small clusters, so it looks gorgeous during sakura season.
Katsuki and his parents used to visit for a couple of weeks every summer, but that kind of slowed down after he got into high school — he can’t even remember the last time he was here.
Thinking about it now, he wishes he visited more before his grandmother passed a few years ago. He would’ve liked to have more memories with her.
When they arrive, Ryuuji offers a hug to each of Katsuki and his parents, and a firm handshake with a warm welcome to Eijirou before he starts hauling his and Katsuki’s stuff inside (by himself — when Katsuki objects, Ei just tells him not to worry about it).
“He seems like a fine young man,” Ryuuji remarks, which is one of the few compliments Katsuki’s ever heard him give.
“He’s great,” Katsuki agrees. Before he really thinks about it, he admits, “I’d probably be dead without him.”
Ryuuji gives him a firm pat on the back. “It’s a damn good thing you’ve got him then, huh?”
It’s oddly touching. Katsuki’s relationship with his grandfather is a lot like his relationship with his mom — ultimately caring, but full of petty arguments and a lot of swearing and insults. He may be talking around the exact words, but to hear his grandfather tell him ‘I’m glad you’re still alive’... it means a lot.
“Yeah,” he agrees softly. “It is.”
Ryuuji steps away at that point to talk to his daughter, leaving Katsuki to head into the house and get settled in his room.
Or, well, their room — despite the abundance of empty rooms in this house, Katsuki and Eijirou are sharing one. He suspects his mother had a hand in that.
Eijirou is laying on one of the futons, eyes shut, looking… at peace.
“Hey,” Katsuki says, setting Missy’s box on the tabletop of the kotatsu as he steps into the room.
Ei opens one eye, smiling. “Hey, ‘Tsuki.”
Katsuki takes a seat on the empty futon. “Tired?”
“A little. But happy. ‘Specially now that you’re here.”
Katsuki is glad that Ei’s already shut his eyes again, because he can feel his cheeks heat up. “Shut up.”
“Never.”
Katsuki half-heartedly shoves his shoulder, making Ei laugh.
They hang out together for a while, listening to Katsuki’s parents and grandfather talk through the walls, until Mitsuki comes to strongarm Katsuki into helping cook dinner and Eijirou also wanders out so he can watch.
Cooking with Mitsuki and Ryuuji is reliably a case of too many cooks in the kitchen — literally, especially when all three of the cooks are short-tempered and argumentative (Katsuki may get his attitude from his mom, but she gets it from her dad). They can work together, sure, but so far they haven’t been able to do it without bickering the whole time. Katsuki still enjoys it, though. In a weird way, it’s how they all bond.
Dinner itself is mostly quiet, though Ryuuji does spend a while asking Eijirou about what he does for work (he’s a Pro Hero) and his hobbies (working out, mostly) and how he and Katsuki met (they went to high school together, and he wouldn’t leave Katsuki the fuck alone because he’s a persistent bastard).
As Katsuki and Eijirou are winding down for bed, Ei remarks, “I like your granddad.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. He seems like a good guy.”
“He is,” Katsuki agrees.
“Like you,” Ei adds, completely unnecessarily. It's a good thing that the lights are off, because Katsuki can feel his cheeks heating up once again.
“Shut up,” he mutters.
Even in the low light, he can see Ei’s cheeky grin. “No.”
“Dick.”
Ei doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead busying himself with pushing the futons together to make one ‘bed’ before climbing into his side. He pats the pillow on the other. “C’mon. Sleep.”
Katsuki can’t be bothered to argue — he tucks himself in, rolling onto his side to face Eijirou as they usually do.
“Goodnight,” Ei says softly.
Katsuki gives him a soft smile. “Goodnight.”
Katsuki doesn’t get recruited to help with breakfast the next morning, so he and Eijirou get to sleep in for a while. Or at least lay together — neither of them are typically ‘sleep in’ kind of people, but ‘lay in bed awake for a few hours’ is probably an apt descriptor.
Despite falling asleep with several inches of space between them, they wake up cuddled together, with Katsuki’s head resting on Ei’s chest. Katsuki does consider that this is probably pushing the boundaries of ‘platonic’, but he’s comfortable (and warm) enough that he doesn’t make any effort to move. Besides, Ei doesn’t seem to mind — he’s combing his fingers gently through the hair on the back of Katsuki’s head, which doesn’t exactly scream ‘get off me’.
When he notices Katsuki looking at him, he smiles softly. “Good morning, ‘Tsuki.”
“‘Morning,” Katsuki mumbles, still in the process of waking up.
“You sleep well?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Never slept better.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “You’re a massive fucking dork, Ei, you know that?”
He chuckles. “You’ve told me. Several times.”
“Good.”
Eijirou just hums in response, still looking amused.
Katsuki shuts his eyes, just basking in the feeling of Ei’s fingers in his hair and listening to the sound of his beating heart. If he could, he would live in this moment forever. It’s been so long since he was able to relax and just enjoy himself for a few minutes.
After breakfast, they head out to where the family cemetery is so they can dig a hole for Missy’s grave. Ryuuji and Masaru both offered to help as well, but Katsuki turned them both down (his grandfather is really too old for this kind of work, and while Katsuki loves spending time with his dad, this feels a little too personal for a father-son activity).
He brings some flowers for his grandmother’s monument, too, while he’s there — it’s been entirely too long since he last visited, so he figured he’d make up for it by decorating the base with asters (her favorite).
They work for an hour or so, mostly in silence.
Katsuki feels… numb, mostly, when he thinks about what comes after. He doesn’t feel the crushing sadness that he’s gotten used to, but he doesn’t exactly feel relieved or anything, either. It’s bittersweet, really, but his emotions don’t seem to know how to deal with that.
He just kind of stares down at the hole once it’s done until Ei grabs his attention, asking, “You ready?”
He shrugs. “Not really. But I don’t think I ever will be, so might as well do it now, right?”
“I suppose so,” he agrees. He pulls Katsuki into a side hug. “Let’s go clean up and let your folks know, then, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Katsuki showers first, waiting on the porch with Missy’s box once he’s dressed.
His mom takes a seat next to him, not speaking at first. When she finally breaks the silence, it’s to ask, “Are you really okay on your own?” She pauses, but continues before he can respond or make any excuses. “I mean… I know you took her death really hard, and I understand why — and that’s why it worries me that you’ve been cooped up in your apartment alone this whole time. I know you, Katsuki, and I know you don’t like accepting help, but… are you sure you’re going to be okay if you stay there? You can move back home if you want; your room will always be there for you if you decide to come stay with us again, but I doubt that’s what you’d really prefer to do. I just —” She cuts herself off with a sigh. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to get at. I’m just worried. I don’t want you to be alone if you don’t have to be.”
“M’not alone,” he mutters. He’s going to say more, but she interrupts before he can, giving him a look.
“You and I both know that’s bullshit. Having us or Eijirou come over once every couple of weeks and spending the rest of the time alone still counts as ‘being alone’.”
He frowns. “I mean… Eijirou’s been staying over for the last couple weeks, but… that’s fair, I guess.”
She raises an eyebrow at him. “I hadn’t heard about that.”
“I didn’t think it was important.” Despite the lack of response, her expression prompts him to continue. “I just — I dunno. It was late, or early I guess, and I was probably having a panic attack or something because I felt like I couldn’t breathe and I just… didn’t want to be alone. So I asked Ei to come over. And he did. And I asked him to stay, so he never went home.”
“That boy would do anything for you, you know that?”
Katsuki blushes. “Yeah. I mean, he’s already told me as much. Said something about me ‘always coming first’ or something else cheesy like that.”
“Sounds like him,” she agrees.
Katsuki nods.
She pauses for a moment, then asks him, “Are you and Eijirou going out?” He gets the feeling that she’s asking out of genuine curiosity and support, rather than making an accusation.
He sighs. “No, we’re not.”
“…but you’d like to be.” This one’s not a question.
Katsuki hesitates — more out of embarrassment than anything — but quietly admits, “Yeah, I would.”
She nods a little. “And you’ve been holding these feelings for how long?”
“Fuck, I don’t know. Ten years or something? Since high school for sure. So it’s been a while.”
“Damn, kid.”
He shoots her a glare. “I know I’m bad at this. You don’t have to rub it in.”
She laughs. “Sorry. I just can’t see why you haven’t told him.”
He shrugs. “I was scared, at first. Didn’t want to fuck up our friendship if he didn’t like me back, y’know? And then, the longer I waited, the more awkward it felt to tell him — ‘sides, we were already doing most of what couples do anyways, so I figured I could be happy with that, and I just… didn’t tell him. And now here I am.”
“Hm.” Her brows furrow. “You ever planning to tell him?”
“I dunno. Maybe.” He sighs. “I don’t wanna think about this right now.”
“That makes sense,” she agrees. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I know you mean well.”
She puts an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. “Of course I do. No matter how old you get, you’re still my kid.”
He returns the hug. “Thanks.”
They sit together for a while until Eijirou finds them, and they (as well as Masaru) all head down to the cemetery to lay Missy to rest.
(Ryuuji doesn’t join them, citing the fact that he never met Missy and therefore doesn’t really relate to how the rest of them feel — a sentiment which Katsuki understands. He honestly appreciates the chance to mourn with only the other people who actually knew her.)
Nobody really says much — all of them kind of said what they wanted to say already, between when they knew she would have to be put down and the weeks after she shut her eyes for the last time. Katsuki places her box in the hole, and they bury it. Katsuki says something — he honestly doesn’t know exactly what, because he doesn’t feel very coherent, but it’s something about their time together and how he’ll miss her. Masaru sets a stone plaque with her name on top of the fresh dirt.
His parents eventually step away, heading back to the main house, but Katsuki stays and sits on the grass for a while, reflecting while Ei sits next to him. He only gets up when he feels himself starting to get tired — if he’s going to nap, he’d rather do it inside the house.
And that’s exactly what he does. Eijirou offers to stay with him while he sleeps, but Katsuki tells him to go hang out and chat with the others — he’s sacrificed enough of his time to watch over Katsuki already.
Katsuki doesn’t dream, so his nap feels both incredibly short and incredibly long all at the same time. He wakes up feeling heavy, so he doesn’t get up right away, instead laying on the futon, eyes shut like he did this morning, but without Eijirou there.
He can hear Ei and his family talking through the walls — it’s slightly muffled, but not impossible to make the words out.
“I know he’s talked about wanting a dog before,” his mom says. Katsuki assumes she’s talking about him. “Do you think getting him a puppy would help?”
Ei is the one who responds. “Another pet isn’t what he needs right now. He’s still grieving — he needs to work through it more before he could even think about getting a dog.”
She sighs. “You’re right. It just hurts seeing him struggling so much, especially since he’s so averse to accepting help.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve kinda had to force my way in to get him to accept anything more than a couple hours of company and a little bit of help.”
“Has he always been like that?” Ryuuji asks, sounding concerned. (They all sound concerned, really.)
“Yes, unfortunately.” It’s Masaru’s turn to sigh. “He’s so worried about not being a bother to anyone that he refuses to ask for help when he really needs it. But all it really does is make us worry about him even more.”
They all go quiet after that, so Katsuki stops listening. It’s just making him feel guilty.
He hadn’t thought about it that way — that not asking for help would make it worse, not better. He knows that’s true in Eijirou’s case, but that’s only because Ei has already scolded him over it. He didn’t realize his parents felt the same way.
He really doesn’t want to worry anyone. He thought he was avoiding that by not talking about his problems, but he doesn’t really know what to do now that he knows he was wrong.
As he’s thinking, he remembers the conversation with his mom earlier.
“Are you really okay on your own?”
He knows he’s not. But he’s been hesitant to leave his apartment — it’s his last tie to Missy, in a way. Especially now that her physical presence is here, so far away from home. And yet, at the same time, her absence is only so obvious because she was in that apartment for so long. Maybe moving out would make it easier to handle the loss.
His mom was right — he doesn’t want to move back home. He loves his parents, but he also likes having his own space and independence. But he doesn’t really want to live alone, either. It was okay with Missy there — having her around was almost like having a roommate anyways — but he doesn’t feel prepared for complete and total solitude. He hasn’t been alone alone in over a decade, so it’s… scary. Terrifying, honestly.
He’s still musing when Eijirou comes to check on him, remarking, “Oh, you’re awake! That’s good.” He takes a seat on the other futon, gently brushing his knuckles against Katsuki’s cheek. “What’re you thinking about?”
“Nothin’ important.”
“Aw, come on. I wanna know. I don’t care if it’s boring.”
Katsuki laughs a little. “Fine, I guess I’ll tell you.” He sighs. “I was thinking about what I’d do if I moved out of my apartment.”
Ei raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you thinking of moving?”
“I dunno. The old hag said she’s worried about me being alone, and I was thinking maybe she has a point.”
He nods a little. “So… what would you do?”
Katsuki shrugs, admitting, “I dunno. I don’t really want to live with my folks again, so…”
“Understandable.” Ei considers for a moment. “You could come live with me. ”
“You’d do that?” Katsuki had sort of considered living together again, but didn’t want to put too much stock in it because he wasn’t sure Ei would want to.
“Of course I would! I love living with you.”
Katsuki nods a little. “I like living with you, too. It’s… easy.”
“Exactly,” Ei agrees. “So, yeah, I’ve got room for two at my place if you want to move in.”
“I’ll think about it,” he promises, admitting, “I feel like I probably shouldn’t be making big decisions until I feel a little more… normal.”
“That’s probably true. Just let me know when you do decide, okay?”
“I will.”
“Good.” Ei brushes his knuckles over Katsuki’s cheek again. “You feeling okay enough to do anything, or just wanna relax here?”
“Can we watch a movie or something?”
“Yeah, of course. Gimme a second.” He gets up, coming back a couple minutes later with his laptop. He sets it up at the head of the futons, prompting Katsuki to roll onto his stomach so he can see. “What do you want to watch?”
“I dunno.” Katsuki shrugs as Ei lays down beside him, getting Netflix pulled up. “Something not sad.”
“I think I can manage that.”
He scrolls through movies for a few minutes before landing on My Neighbor Totoro — one of Katsuki’s comfort movies (a fact that Eijirou very well knows).
They watch in silence, shoulders pressed together. It’s comfortable. Easy.
Everything with Eijirou is easy.
Ei carries Katsuki’s bags up to his apartment when they get back (despite Katsuki trying to tell him that he can carry his own shit), but Katsuki presses a hand to his chest before he can come in the front door.
Ei raises an eyebrow at him. “Why are we doing this, exactly?”
“Consider this me shoving you out the door.” He uses his free hand to take one of his bags from Eijirou. “I’ll be okay on my own for now.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ve got it, I promise.”
“All right.” Ei moves Katsuki’s hand away so he can drop Katsuki’s other bag just inside the doorframe. “But call me if you need anything, okay? And I mean anything, no matter how small.”
“ Okay, ” Katsuki agrees, only a little bit exasperated.
“Promise?”
“Swear on my life.”
“Good.” Ei pulls him into a bear hug that physically lifts him onto his tiptoes, only letting him down after a good thirty seconds have passed. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Talk to you later,” Katsuki agrees.
He only shuts his front door once Ei is out of view — partially because he wants to make sure Ei actually leaves, and partially because he’s stupid in love with him.
He gives himself half a minute to take some deep breaths and brace for the feelings that he knows are going to hit him once he leaves his entryway. Then he changes into his house slippers, picks his bags up, and enters his empty home.
There’s no pissed-off, ‘why haven’t you fed me yet’ yowling. Not even the warm “Hey,” that he’s become so accustomed to in these past few weeks. But Katsuki is determined not to let that get to him — he’s spent enough time crying in his bed. Now is the time for him to get his shit together a little.
He starts with unpacking his bags, throwing his dirty clothes in the washing machine and putting his shoes on the shoe rack in the entryway. He puts the empty bags in his closet, tucked into a corner, before heading into the main area of the apartment to clean some stuff up.
For the first time in two months, he picks up Missy’s things — empties the bowl of stagnant water into the sink, throws all the toys in a basket along with her combs and the few collars he has saved, and just generally consolidates all of her stuff to one corner of his living room. He’ll probably get a box for it all and store it at his parents’ house for the foreseeable future, until if and when he wants to use it again.
He realizes he has some leftover cat food, too — the wet food is already expired, predictably, but the kibble seems fine. He vaguely remembers a cat café being nearby, so he decides he’ll probably donate it to them if possible (or a shelter or something if not).
He doesn’t feel like going out for anything else, so he pokes through his fridge for something to make for dinner. Because of the trip, he didn’t bother grocery shopping last week, but he has some rice and eggs, as well as enough ingredients for one serving of miso soup. So, miso and omurice it is. Not very glamorous, but it’ll do for tonight. He makes a mental note to go grocery shopping tomorrow.
He puts on a movie while he eats, just so he’s not sitting there in silence.
Katsuki can’t stand silence. It was already hard to deal with before — it just reminds him that, one day, his hearing will be entirely gone and he’ll have no choice but to live in silence for the rest of forever — but it didn’t feel quite so… suffocating until it became a reminder of the things that aren’t there anymore. Hence, the movie.
He watches another movie, then decides to call it a night and get ready for bed. He shoots Eijirou a text while he’s brushing his teeth.
i’m fine, btw
Eijirou’s response is, as usual, near-instantaneous.
that’s good :D keep it up!
but still call me if you need anything
i will
but i won’t need anything
Katsuki honestly doesn’t know how true that is, but he’d like to believe it.
right, right
i forgot: you’re perfect and never need help ever
That gets a proper chuckle.
asshole
shut up
They chat for a while while Katsuki continues his nighttime routine — face wash, pajamas, double- and then triple-checking that all of the doors and windows are locked. (People who don’t already know him like to say he’s being paranoid about the locks, but given how many brushes with death he’s had, Katsuki thinks he’s justified in being a little paranoid. He would rather not set a new personal record for ‘most times kidnapped’ — one was already too many.)
As he tucks himself into bed, he has a realization that he decides to share.
it’s kind of weird to not have you here
This response takes uncharacteristically long to come in — almost a full minute.
yeah. it’s like something important is missing
i felt like that right after i moved to hokkaido, too
That’s news to Katsuki.
It’s not like they never said ‘I miss you’ when they texted or called, but it was just that — ‘I miss you’. Simple and straightforward, just casual small talk that you have with people you haven’t seen in a while. It was true, but it wasn’t anything special.
When Eijirou moved, Katsuki felt like there was a massive void left in the place where he used to be, but he never said that. That’s not a normal thing to say.
And yet.
really?
yeah, all the time
it was like i only realized how present you were when you stopped being around
i kinda felt like that too
it’s why i moved out of our old place
it felt wrong to be there when you weren’t
At the time, his excuse was that it was too big for one person. And it was, but it also just felt empty, the same way his current place does now — when you get so used to the sounds of everyday life, you can feel it when one of them suddenly stops.
aww you missed me?? and you say you’re not sentimental
Katsuki rolls his eyes.
shut up, i’m trying to be emotional for once and you’re ruining it
sorry :P
it’s just nice to know i’m not the only one who feels that way, y’know?
yeah, i get it
He hesitates before sending a follow-up.
honestly i still miss you
all the time
What follows that is another extremely long pause. Katsuki starts worrying that he said too much — did that cross the line? It’s been so long since ‘the line’ has been an issue that he doesn’t even know where it is anymore.
But, eventually, the response comes.
me too
i'm kind of sick of it
it sucks missing you when you're not even gone
but i can't help it
i just do
i miss you
Katsuki starts typing a response, but deletes it halfway through, then repeats the process a few more times before he finally ends up just asking a question.
were you really serious about me moving in with you?
of course i was
why would i lie about that?
i dunno
to make me feel better i guess
well i wasn’t lying
why are you asking? you said you shouldn’t make big life decisions until you feel more ‘normal’
unless you actually do feel more normal already but i was kinda assuming that wasn’t the case
Katsuki chews the inside of his cheek as he thinks of his next words.
i don’t exactly feel normal yet but it’s more normal than before i guess?
i think it’ll feel more normal to live with you again
and we won’t have to miss each other as much
(plus it’ll make the old hag feel better if i’m not alone)
He’s called his mother some pretty reprehensible things over the years, but he loves her. He doesn’t want to worry her if he doesn’t have to.
There’s a few minutes until Eijirou’s next reply comes in.
when do you want to move in?
(also my one condition is that you bring your mattress with you since it’s so much comfier than mine)
Katsuki laughs a little.
might as well bring my whole bed since it’s not as fucking ugly as yours
whatever makes you the most comfortable :)
That could easily be read as sarcastic, but Katsuki knows Eijirou well enough to know that he’s being 100% genuine.
better figure out what the fuck you’re gonna do with yours then
i dunno about timing. i should probably talk to my landlord and see how soon i can end my tenancy
good idea, i hadn’t thought about that
i should probably let mine know that i’m having another person move in, huh?
probably
see, ‘tsuki, this kinda thing is why you’re the smart one
stop implying you’re dumb or i’ll punch you
you’re literally across town right now katsuki
how are you gonna punch me
i’m not above getting my ass on a train just to gut-punch you ei
you should know that
okay okay fine i’m not dumb
you’re still smarter than me though and i refuse to budge on that one
whatever
Katsuki glances over at his alarm clock for a moment, noting that it’s already after midnight — which explains why his eyelids are getting so heavy.
i need to sleep so i’m gonna call it a night for now
if you need anything else it can wait until the morning
you got it, boss o7
goodnight, katsuki
talk to you tomorrow
goodnight
talk later
He sets his phone on his bedside table, rubbing his eyes. He’s definitely got a lot to think about (and do), but it can wait until after he wakes up.
Katsuki’s landlord, a nice older woman who Katsuki is on a given-name basis with, is incredibly generous and tells him that he can move out as soon as he wants. She even offers to refund him for a portion of the month’s rent, but he tells her to keep it and treat it as a gift for being so accommodating.
He leaves a fair amount of his stuff (Missy’s things, assorted knickknacks, excess furniture) at his parents’ house, with the promise that he'll come back and sort everything out some other time. The rest — his bed, clothes, and other essentials — get moved into Eijirou’s place.
Or, well. He guesses it’s both of their place now.
They get the bed set up first. Katsuki brought his bedding, too — he’s very particular about what material his sheets are made of (most typical sheet fabrics set off his sensory issues), and without his heavy down comforter he’s usually cold. (Eijirou may be a human heater who can comfortably go out in the snow without a shirt, but not everyone has that luxury.) He did bring both of his pillows, but Eijirou ends up deciding that he’d rather keep one of the ones he already had, so the extras go in the hall closet along with various extra blankets and other linens.
Eijirou’s already cleared out half of his closet for Katsuki to use, so he decides to focus on clothes next. He doesn’t have a ton, since he tends to cycle between the same few outfits over and over again until they’re literally too worn out to wear anymore, so it isn’t hard to fit them all in. Anything that he doesn’t hang up ends up in a box that he leaves on the closet floor.
After looking at his other boxes for a moment and glancing at the bedroom wall clock, he decides he can finish unpacking some other time — right now, he opts to prioritize making dinner for the two of them.
The contents of Eijirou’s fridge are pathetic, but Katsuki manages to pull enough together to make gyuudon. He makes a mental note to go grocery shopping tomorrow on his way home from work.
Eijirou ends up coming out to watch him cook after a bit, and it feels… familiar. It reminds him of being back in college, back when this kind of thing was just a part of their daily routine — Eijirou chatting about nothing in particular while he watches Katsuki cook for them both. (He’s always seemed to like watching Katsuki cook. Katsuki has no idea why.)
Eijirou’s voice interrupts his train of thought. “I’m excited to be living together again.”
He briefly considers being snarky, because he feels like that’s what people tend to expect from him, but decides against it. “Me, too.” Glancing over at the look on Eijirou’s face, he grumbles, “Wipe that dumb smile off your face. You look stupid.”
“Sorry. I just… I’m really glad you’re here. It feels right.”
Katsuki hums softly, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what he could say to that — it certainly gives him a lot of feelings, but not any he knows how to properly articulate.
It's just all so… domestic. Painfully so.
He never used to be a light sleeper, but lately it seems like Katsuki can be woken up by anything. It can be really annoying, especially because he values his sleep, but it also has the more pleasant side effect of waking him up when Eijirou gets home after working late. It’s not really the noise that wakes him up — Eijirou can be scarily quiet if he tries — but when the opposite side of the bed dips, he stirs.
Once he’s actually conscious enough to form a coherent thought, he mumbles, “Welcome home.” After hesitating for a couple of seconds, he adds, “I missed you.”
Ei half-turns around from where he’s sitting, a soft smile on his face. “I missed you, too,” he agrees, reaching a hand out to brush Katsuki’s bangs out of his face. “Sorry for waking you up.”
“S’okay. It’s not your fault.”
“All right.” He lets his hand rest in Katsuki’s hair for a moment before taking it back. “Need me to get you anything before I settle in?”
Katsuki shakes his head. “M’fine.”
“Okay,” Ei agrees.
“You don’t have to offer, y’know,” Katsuki tells him, not for the first time. “You’ve had a long day, you don’t need to worry about me.”
“I always worry about you.” He finally lays down, facing Katsuki as he pulls the covers up. “That’s not gonna stop anytime soon.”
“It’d save you a lot of stress if it did,” Katsuki points out.
Ei shrugs. “I’ll deal.”
“You’re so fucking stubborn.”
He chuckles. “I could say the same to you.”
Katsuki pouts, grumbling, “This isn’t about me.”
“It isn’t? I thought we were talking about me worrying about you.”
“Shut up, you’re not funny.” Katsuki smacks him in the chest. “And my point still stands.”
Eijirou frowns a little. “I don’t see why it bothers you so much.”
“It’s just — why me? Why not Kyouka, or Mina, or — or fucking Denki or something? Why does it have to be me?”
It’s a question Katsuki’s been asking himself for the last ten years — but he realizes, now, that he doesn’t remember ever asking Eijirou directly.
“It’s not the same.” Eijirou props himself up on one elbow, giving Katsuki a look that says, this should be obvious .
“The fuck does that mean?”
“It’s just — it’s different. You’re different.”
Katsuki finally pushes himself off the bed, too, so he can look Ei in the eyes. “How the fuck am I any different to any of your other friends?”
“ Our other friends,” Ei corrects him softly.
“Not the point.” Katsuki frowns. “And stop avoiding the question.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs. “I don’t know what you want from me, ‘Tsuki.”
“I just want a straight answer, Eijirou.”
They have a staredown for a minute or so, dead silent — not an uncommon situation for them, honestly, but it’s usually not quite this tense.
Eventually, Ei lets out a heavy sigh. “‘Tsuki… it’s different because I’m in love with you.”
The moment of silence that follows that is even longer than the staredown, because Katsuki’s brain just blatantly refuses to process that statement with any degree of haste. He’s sure he looks like an idiot, just staring blankly at Eijirou, but he doesn’t know what else to say or do.
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” Ei mutters, breaking eye contact to push back his hair with his free hand. “I knew you would —”
“How long?” Katsuki finally asks, interrupting him.
“Huh?”
“How long have you been in love with me?”
“Fuck, I dunno, since high school? It’s been so long I don’t even really remember.”
Katsuki sits up fully, staring up at the ceiling. “Oh my fucking god.”
“I’m sorry,” Ei says quietly.
He shakes his head. “No, don’t — don’t be sorry. Or maybe do be sorry, but only for not saying anything sooner .”
Ei sits up, too, prompting Katsuki to look at him. “I… what?”
“Ei, I’m in love with you. ” He laughs, almost despite himself. “Since high school.”
“ Really?” Eijirou grabs both of Katsuki’s arms, voice somewhere in between disbelief and excitement.
He nods. “Yeah. I never said anything because… I dunno, I guess I was scared? I’ve never imagined that you could ever love me back, and I didn’t want to ruin what we already had — so I kept my mouth shut.” He laughs again. “And now I find out I could’ve told you years ago and it would’ve been fine.”
Ei laughs, too. “That’s so funny — I felt the exact same way.”
“We’re both stupid,” Katsuki decides.
“Insanely stupid,” he agrees.
Katsuki sighs, admitting, “I still don’t know why you love me, though. I’m — a lot, I know, and I have all my trauma, and so many shitty personality traits, and —”
“‘Tsuki.” Eijirou lets go of his biceps, but only so that he can hold Katsuki’s hands instead. “You are my most important person. I love you because you’re ambitious, and intelligent, and you care about people, more deeply than any of them will ever know. Yes, you can be kind of hard to get along with, and it’s not always easy to care for you, but it’s worth it to me because I know you deserve to have someone in your corner to look out for you. And I am honored to be that person.”
Katsuki can feel himself tearing up, and he takes one of his hands back so that he can wipe his eyes with his sleeve, mumbling, “Who gave you the right to be so fucking nice?”
Ei chuckles softly, brushing a tear off of Katsuki’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I dunno, but I guess I’m lucky they did.”
Katsuki doesn’t have a response to that, so he decides to focus on not crying instead.
After another moment, Ei says softly, “I’m sorry this had to come out now, when you’ve already got so much on your mind.”
“S’okay,” Katsuki assures him. “I’m glad it was now and not, like, five years from now.”
“Well, when you put it like that, yeah.” He cradles Katsuki’s face in his hand. “But I would still understand if you were a little overwhelmed.”
“I am, kinda,” Katsuki admits. “But I’ll be okay.”
“That’s good to hear.” Ei leans down to kiss his temple.
“Gimme an actual kiss,” he grumbles, tugging Eijirou down by the neck.
Ei chuckles, but obliges.
It’s not the first time they’ve kissed — they were teenagers once, of course they’ve played Truth or Dare and Spin the Bottle — but it is the first time they’ve kissed just because they wanted to. Just because they love each other.
It feels nice.
After a moment, Eijirou murmurs, “We should probably sleep at some point.”
“Probably,” Katsuki agrees. He had kind of forgotten how late it is, but the exhaustion hits him all at once now.
“Let’s go to bed, then,” Ei decides, pressing a last kiss to Katsuki’s mouth. “We can talk more tomorrow, okay?”
Katsuki nods. “Okay.”
He smiles softly. “Goodnight, ‘Tsuki. I love you.”
Despite himself, Katsuki can’t help smiling back at him. “Goodnight, Ei. I love you, too.”
“So.” His mother’s stare feels like it’s boring directly into Katsuki’s soul as he blankly stares down at his half-empty ramen bowl.
“So,” he agrees.
She raises an eyebrow. “You never invite me out for lunch. Something’s up — stop stalling and tell me what it is.”
“Well, uh…” He tries to come up with a way of saying it that won’t immediately prompt an ‘I told you so’, but fails. So, blushing a little, he admits, “Eijirou and I are going out.”
Surprisingly, she doesn’t immediately mock him, even though it would be kind of justified. Instead, she says, “That’s great, Katsuki! Since when?”
“Like, four this morning.” He laughs a little, sheepish. “We were arguing about something else and it just kinda… came up, somehow?”
Mitsuki goodnaturedly rolls her eyes. “Of course. You two are ridiculous.”
“I know.”
“I’m happy for you, though.” She reaches across the table to hold one of his hands. “I can tell that you’re happier when you two are together.”
Katsuki nods. “He’s just… he’s Eijirou.”
She laughs softly. “That about sums it up.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, also laughing.
They’re both quiet for a moment until she jokes, “So, when am I getting grandkids?”
Katsuki groans. “Mom, please, I’ve been dating him for less than twenty-four hours. It’s a little too early to be talking about kids.”
“Oh, all right.” She pauses. “You think you will, though? Eventually?”
“I dunno, maybe.” He’s never been much of a ‘kids’ person, but he’s not totally against it either — and if there’s anyone he would be willing to have kids with, it’s Eijirou.
Mitsuki gives his hand a squeeze. “You should do whatever makes you happiest. I’m sure Eijirou would say the same.”
“Probably,” Katsuki agrees, chuckling. “But still, for now you’ll have to content yourself with being a grandma to a cat, or a dog or something.”
Her eyebrows raise, surprised. “You’re thinking of getting another pet?”
“Yeah, I’ve considered it.” He frowns a little. “Is that really a weird idea?”
“No, just… unexpected. You were really broken up over Missy — I wasn’t sure you’d want another animal in your life anytime soon.”
“I still really miss her,” he admits, “and I don’t want to ‘replace’ her or whatever, but I miss having a pet to look after. It kinda forced me to look after myself, too, in a way.”
“That makes sense,” she agrees, nodding. “You think you’ll get another cat, or?”
“I actually think it’d be nice to try something different and get a dog, instead. But I’ll have to talk to Ei about it either way, so…” He shrugs. “I’ll let you know.”
“All right.” She gives his hand another squeeze.
He shoots her a small smile. “Thanks. For always looking out for me, I mean.”
She laughs. “Of course, kid. You’re my son — looking out for you is literally my job.”
“Still, I appreciate it,” he says, before getting distracted by his phone buzzing.
It’s Eijirou, sending him a series of texts.
i was thinking we should go out to eat tonight
unless you don’t want to
which i would totally understand
but either way we should do something to celebrate
Katsuki chuckles, taking his hand back from Mitsuki so he can respond.
what exactly are we celebrating?
our relationship?
i thought that would be clearer, sorry
it was, i’m just teasing
eating out would be nice
i’ll find someplace nice for us to go, then
you deserve it :)
i’m looking forward to it
not as much as i’m looking forward to seeing you
you literally saw me this morning, dork
i know but i always want to see you
and now i can also kiss you when i see you! :D
Katsuki chuckles.
now that you’ve said it, i’m going to be disappointed if you don’t
luckily for you, i’m a man of my word
i would hate to disappoint
oh! you’re out with your mom rn, right?
tell her hi from me :)
will do
“Ei says hi,” Katsuki says lamely.
Mitsuki rolls her eyes at him. “Tell him I say hi back.”
“A’ight.”
she says hi back
:)
okay i really need to get back to work now but i’ll see you tonight
i can’t wait <3
see you tonight
He considers his phone for a moment — he’s not known for being the most sentimental person, but he feels like he should be matching Ei’s energy.
After another couple seconds, he sends one last text.
<3