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“Nakamura Jay, nice to meet you,” A hand reached out to him. A left hand.
To anyone else, it was less than a blink of an eye. But within that blink, a thousand thoughts rushed through Katsuki’s head. Looking at the hand, he recalled a night 9 years ago in the dead night of summer. It was deep within cicada season, and everyone in Ise knew that Chip Forest was the breeding ground for all of them, and to stay far, far away from its vicinity between May and June.
Its song reverberated in sync through the dogwood trees that towered above the ground. He remembered Izuku sitting beside him on a laid out brown tarp that Katsuki kept in the car for occasions such as this, pretty eyes staring up at the sky trying to see past the treeline for any stars. The reason they were here was simply because everybody else wasn’t . At university, the more popular Katsuki got, the more attention he received at home. Which made small moments like these important: moments when the only thing that existed was Izuku, himself, and the five meter radius that they occupied.
Outside of that space, nothing else in the world mattered. The Earth could be shattering as they spoke, the very fabric of space could be unweaving and tearing itself apart, and the stars could start raining its fire down upon them, and none of it would matter. Because within that moment, the only Earth that Katsuki knew was the ground that Izuku sat upon. The only space he understood was the tiny, but excruciating distance between them as they sat. And the only stars he cared for were the ones that decorated his lover’s eyes. And as long as none of those crumble or tear, he could give less of a damn what happened outside of this moment.
The problem was that this sentiment is cute in theory, but the reality was that the two of them also shared this moment and this fuck ass “five meter radius” with about five thousand cicadas. They had underestimated just how loud being in a cicada breeding ground would be. The sound of Eyes Without A Face by Billy Idol was being drowned out by the damn bugs. Now that Katsuki thought about it, he never really liked bugs.
“I never really understood this song!” Izuku shouted over the music and the cicadas. He swatted some out of his face. You would think they would leave, but neither of them wanted to let go of the moment.
“It’s based off this shitty french horror movie,” Katsuki shouted back, trying to ignore the cicadas and pretend this was fine. After all, going out to this forest was his idea, “It’s real fucked up.” He caves and starts swatting cicadas.
Izuku waits for a further explanation, “Yeah? Is that all you’re going to say about it?” He laughs.
Katsuki allows himself to get situated, “So in the movie, this surgeon’s daughter gets into a car accident right?”
“Right,” He follows along.
“And the daughter’s face gets all messed up from it, yeah? So the freak ass dad starts kidnapping other girls and stitching their faces onto the daughter to ‘fix’ her. And he ends up regretting it and shit… But the song is about a guy who’s heartbroken by a girl who wasn’t who he thought she was.”
Izuku nods slowly trying to comprehend.
Katsuki waves his arm around, “I don’t fucking know. It was the 80s, shit doesn't have to make sense.”
“I was about to say,” Izuku laughed into the air, “I don’t really see the correlation. But it’s Billy Idol and I guess the mind of a genius isn’t something we mortals can comprehend.”
“Guess not,” Katsuki hummed in agreement.
“Actually, it’s really interesting,” Izuku added, still with his voice raised a bit to overpower the cicadas, “Most of Billy Idol’s songs were about love and he dated so many cool people, but he never managed to get married. Isn’t that ironic in a sense?” Izuku found it curious.
Katsuki thought about it for a second then replied, “Nah. Not everyone is meant to get married.”
Izuku hummed at that, and brought his knees up to his chest while resting his chin on his arms laid utop of them. They had not been dating for enough time that the boy could comfortably say out loud his thoughts on marriage with Katsuki directly . The closest he could go were blanket statements about marriage that was hinted at or implied, but never directly spoken about. The mentions of the words “always” or “forever” and other phrases of the sort should be enough for him to understand that there is an implied want shared between them, but the lack of directness, which is very unlike Katsuki typically, makes statements like the one the blonde just said punch Izuku in the gut a little. Was he projecting? Implying he doesn’t want to get married ever ? He would then comfort himself knowing that he had a tendency throughout all of their friendship and relationship to assume the worst without asking, without thinking, and allowing himself to feel beat up inside unnecessarily.
But he was only human, and there was only so much he could reason with himself when it comes to his feelings of love, especially when love is inherently the absence of reason.
Because although Izuku had never said it out loud, he knew. He knew that when the sun rose in the morning and when it sets later in the evening, he wanted to wake up and go to sleep to the sound of vivacious laughter, the smell of burnt sugar, and to the touch of Katsuki’s fingers outlining his freckles—whether it was today, next year, or ten years from now.
“I am,” Izuku spoke, voice hopeful but slightly scared. He refused to look over at Katsuki. And his fear was validated when a minute ticked by in silence, and the music and cicadas that filled the space could not even drown out the sound of his heartbeat that seemed to have overtaken that silence. He decided to himself after a minute that he should have not said that. And then decided right afterwards, no, I spoke what I felt. And if he doesn’t feel the same way, then it doesn’t mean what I felt does not deserve to be heard. And then decided right after that that the embarrassment wasn’t worth the supposed justice for his thoughts. And then decided after that -
“Deku,” Katsuki’s voice cuts the silence and Izuku jumps in his seat, but he turns over to look at his lover, hesitant but still trusting.
Katsuki smiles at him and looks down at his own fingers, where he holds between his index and his thumb a couple strands of hard grass woven together shittily into an empty circle: a ring. He makes a lazy fake move to get up on one knee, despite Izuku still sitting back on the dirty brown tarp with a convenience store onigiri wrapper stuck to his shoe, and holds up the grass ring, “Deku, from the first moment I saw you, I did not fall in love with you.”
Izuku starts cackling, his gut feeling full of warmth and happiness. The song I Do Believe (I Fell In Love) by Donna Summer plays. He loves this song, “ Kacchan, what kind of proposal is th-”
“Shh, nerd,” Katsuki cuts him off, clears his throat then continues, “From the second moment I saw you, I definitely did not fucking fall in love with you.”
Izuku gaped, unsure of where this was going but still found the fake proposal endearing.
“From the third moment I saw you, I absolutely fucking did not fall in love with you,” Katsuki asserted, looking absolutely ridiculous with the grass ring in his finger and a half ass one-knee. Izuku blinked three times, and then another three as if flabbergasted.
Katsuki continued, now with his voice a bit softer, “But loving you is not something I see, it is something I feel. I feel it in every practice that you bring me a gatorade, I feel it in every moment that you laugh at something I say, in every time you ask for a scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream and I find it fucking adorable instead of wanting to crawl outta my damn skin,” He paused, “Deku, I might not have seen you, really seen you, in the first moment that we met. Or the second, or the damn third. It might have taken me a while but I see you now, and everything that you are.”
Izuku did not want to tear up, yet he did. This was the love of his life speaking to him with such kind words, how could he not? Even if it was a fake proposal, even if it was a grass ring, even if they were in the middle of the woods on a random summer night. He could not help it, not when the only gospel he knew, the only hymns he prayed to, were the words that came out of his lover’s lips.
“I see you now,” Katsuki repeats, “But not just now. But tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that,” Katsuki pauses, and in a completely serious tone despite the unserious nature of this conversation, he speaks to Izuku’s soul: “Deku, will you marry me.”
Izuku failed in his attempt not to burst into tears and jumped into his lover’s embrace, knocking Katsuki off of his one knee fake proposal, but the blonde lets it happen. And for a while, they just lay there on the tarp. The cicadas didn’t sound loud anymore, and neither did the music. The only sound that mattered was their own hushed laughter. Izuku whispers just loud enough for Katsuki to hear: “Yes.”
The blonde sits up and they both get in a comfortable position. Barely a pale sliver of moonlight passed through the tree cover tonight, but he could see the glassiness of Izuku’s eyes as clear as day. Katsuki reaches out to gently pick up Izuku’s left and slips the grass ring on, and the green haired boy laughs as he does so.
“Are we married now? Can we skip the ceremony and officiating part?” Izuku laughs again, holding his hand up to show off his ring, “I say we do.”
“Sure,” Katsuki flicks him on the cheek playfully, “But where’s my ring? And my speech?”
“It’s coming! I didn’t pay expedited shipping so it’s going to come in pretty late,” Izuku pretends to be sad, while moving so that he is closer to his boyfriend and lays his head on Katsuki’s shoulder.
“Hmm,” Katsuki faked ponder, “When’s the estimated arrival time then?”
Izuku thinks about it and then smiles, “Five years? Maybe? Six?”
Katsuki stretches his arms out and leans back against the trunk of a tree, and complains, “Oi, if it takes that long, it better be fucking beautiful. If you get me a silver ring, I’m leaving at the altar.”
Izuku pops his head up off Katsuki’s shoulder and looks at him with wide eyes, “But I love silver rings! I would totally get you a silver ring, it would look good on you.”
Katsuki shakes his head furiously, “Go find someone else if you like silver rings so much, nerd. It’s gonna be gold for me or bust, ya hear me?” He playfully ruffles Deku’s green hair.
The freckled boy smiled with his whole face—teeth, eyes, cheeks, everything—and laughed lightly, “Gold it is.”
Katsuki remembered this conversation as vividly as if it was yesterday. Every single detail. He remembered the smell of Izuku’s new shampoo that he had bought for shine: English Pear. He remembered the feeling of holding Izuku’s hand afterwards, and feeling the shitty grass ring in between his own empty middle and ring finger. He remembered the riffs they made for hours afterwards pretending they were already married and in their 50s and starting to get back issues.
He remembered every single detail.
Which is why when he saw the ring on Nakamura Jay’s left hand that was outreached to shake his own, Katsuki’s fucking stomach dropped.
At the end, Izuku had managed after all to find someone to give it to:
A silver ring.
Jay stood in front of Katsuki: tall and confident yet kind, sharp in stature yet soft around the eyes. Izuku stood next to him comfortably, as if they had been standing next to each other for years, as if they had seen a million good days and bad days with one another, as if they loved each other. They did. Katsuki knew they did, and he wants to rip his goddamn hair out.
Katsuki reaches his hand out, and firmly shakes the other man’s hand, “I am Bakugo Katsuki. Nice to meet you too.”
Jay was handsome, there was no doubt about it. He was tall, well filled out in the chest and shoulders, and had a happy energy to him. The man had medium length, neatly styled black hair that was slightly parted in the middle with a few wisps that showed he was neat, yes, but also laid back and casual. His almond shaped eyes were a striking gray, and his lips were always in a confident, but pleasant smile. On top of a pair of clean, slick gray slacks, Jay wore a white button up loosely buttoned at the top.
Jay had the demeanor of someone who knew who he was, knew what he was doing, knew what he wanted and what he didn’t want, but at the same time, Katsuki just knew that he was kind. A nice guy. Because dammit, if it were the other way around, and it was Katsuki standing next to Izuku meeting the shorter’s ex-boyfriend, the blonde would not nearly be as pleasant.
“Please sit and make yourself comfortable Bakugo,” Jay smiled at him, “ I am going to go run to the kitchen and grab dinner out of the oven, but I wanted you to know I am very excited to get to know you,” Then pats Katsuki on the shoulder, “It’s not every day I get to meet a celebrity.”
Katsuki smiles politely, “I’m just a man.”
To that, as Jay was backing out of the dining room, he turned halfway around and said with a slight laugh, “Not just any man.” And Katsuki swore , even if it was just for a flitting second, he swore: he saw a glimmer of pain in that man’s face.
That left Katsuki and Izuku in the same room as one another, for the first time since their reunion dinner a while ago when Izuku first revealed to him that he was set to get married. And this felt wrong. It felt so wrong . Because in what twisted goddamn universe is Katsuki the damn dinner guest in Izuku and some random extra’s engaged couple playbook? In what fucked up universe is Katsuki the one awkwardly standing on the sidelines watching the love of his life laugh about burning the dinner rolls and rehang a tilted picture frame of Izuku and someone else who wasn’t himself.
“Izuk-”
“Kacchan, I’m very happy you were able to come by for dinner with us tonight,” Izuku smiled at him thoughtfully, setting the table up to be a little neater.
This feels wrong. This feels fucking wrong , Katsuki was at a lost of words.
The other continued, “Jay may seem very cool headed, but he was panicking earlier about what to cook and what you might want to eat,” Izuku then looks off for a second as if recalling a nice memory then laughed, “But I promise you he’ll blow your mind away with his katsudon! I remember when we were first dating, I vowed to him that I will never eat better katsudon than the one my mom makes for me, and so he spent the next two months perfecting the dish over and over and over again until he got it just perfect.”
“That’s…” Katsuki’s throat went fucking dry, and his hands gripped the top of the dining room chair as he watches Izuku shuffle around the table, “...really nice of him, isn’t it.”
“It is,” Izuku smiled. It was that smile. The one with his whole face—teeth, eyes, cheeks, everything. The one he used to give to him, “He was convinced when he proposed to me that the only reason I said yes was because of his katsudon.” He laughed.
And Katsuki died inside. He wished it was. He wished it was just because of the goddamn katsudon, because then, the blonde wouldn’t have to think about what it actually took to make Izuku, his Izuku, smile at that man the way he used to smile at him.
Katsuki grumbled, trying to make the atmosphere light, “This shit better be good then, for you to be forsaking the hag’s food for this extra.”
At this Izuku gave him a softer look, “It is.”
It was that good. In fact, it was so good that Katsuki hated it. And the blonde was not the simple explosive, angry person he used to be. He understood that he was being irrational. He understood that there was no reason to hate the katsudon, or their house, or their engagement, or them. He reasoned with himself that he needed to accept all of these truths.
But Katsuki was only human, and there was only so much he could reason with himself when it comes to his feelings of love, especially when love is inherently the absence of reason.
“This is delicious,” Katsuki forced himself to say, then followed it up with a small, “Damn.”
Jay smiled widely at this, “That’s great to hear! I am pretty confident with this dish. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but when me and Izuku first started dating, he told me th-”
“I heard,” Katsuki cuts off the rest of the story and the table falls quiet. Jay laughs to himself awkwardly, and Izuku sits there intently eating his food even though the blonde was sure that the green onion sprinkled on top of the katsudon could not possibly be that damn interesting.
But it was that move from Izuku that made Katsuki internally slap himself. What was he doing. He agreed to come into this house, agreed to have dinner with this couple, knowing full well Izuku did not owe him anything, knowing full well that Jay did not even owe him kindness . And yet, both parties had spent the last hour or two preparing this so that he could have a pleasant evening. Izuku did not deserve this. And although it killed him to admit it, neither did the extra. In a world where Katsuki would have tried to pursue the love of his life again, making him uncomfortable would not be the way to do it.
And so the blonde takes a deep breath and musters up a convincing smile, “But Jay, I’m sure you know I’m competitive. This shit is pretty damn good, but you got nothing on my sichuan dumplings. I gotta show you sometime. I drench that shit in chili oil and,” Katsuki kisses his own fingers in a gesture, “done deal. You’ll never want to eat anything else ever again.”
Jay looked excited at this, “I’d love to try. Izuku, have you had this dish?”
Izuku shook his head, “No, not yet.”
“Because it hasn’t debut yet. I only came up with it a couple months ago, shitnerd,” Katsuki bit.
“How am I supposed to have known that?” Izuku gives him a flabbergasted face, and Katsuki holds onto this moment because even this emotion that he just elicited out of Izuku was better than the stale, nice, mature expressions that the freckled man have been dishing to him ever since he’s fucking been back in this shitty town.
“You are supposed to assume I am constantly innovating and being the best, Deku,” Katsuki pointed arrogantly at himself, making Izuku groan and Jay laugh.
“You definitely are, but now I’m curious about this dish,” Jay clapped in excitement.
Jay was an agreeable person. He was. If Katsuki did not think about how this man is marrying Izuku, about how this man has a house with a wrap around porch painted sage green with Izuku just like the two of them have talked about before all those years ago, about how this man knew all the things he knew about Izuku and more, then the blonde thinks that they could have even become friends.
But it was all he thought about. All he thought about.
It made it almost more difficult that the man was so likable, because the distance between him and Izuku only grew wider the more he realized this fact. Izuku and Jay were both active in the table conversation, and it almost would have been lovely if it weren’t for the fact that it was the man he dreamt of every goddamn night on the other side of the table, engaged to someone else. Fuck , Katsuki no matter how relaxed he seemed, could not get over it.
Even when the conversation was going exceptionally well, he could not completely get over it.
“-nd so, the barber then shaved off half of my head,” Izuku recounted while laughing. Jay was laughing beside him and filling in the blanks of the story as if he’s heard it before, as if he was there when it happened, as if they were best friends, “And so for the last year of university, I walked around with only half of my hair. It looked horrible!”
Jay chimed in, “And that summer, you could see that half of his scalp was tan and the other half wasn’t. It was hilarious.”
Katsuki laughed at this, savoring in any detail of izuku’s life the past 8 years while he could.
They were easy to talk to. And dinner flew by, and Katsuki managed to snag two plates of the katsudon and four glasses of water to wash down how dry his throat got looking at the engaged couple. There was no denying how well the two of them fit together, just as there was no denying that tonight before he goes to sleep, there will be a glass of aged fine whiskey in his hands.
After dinner, the two suggested they go out on the porch for some dessert. The back porch overlooked a small, but neat garden with all sorts of plants and vegetables. Katsuki figured that Inko must have had a hand in growing all of these, as they were all thriving and laid out in the garden similarly to how the hag had her garden set up at home. Their relationship must still be good, Katsuki thought to himself, Good. He was glad. There was a small table out on the porch with a faint blue tablecloth that had been terribly sunbleached to the point where the strawberry design on the tablecloth appeared more gray than red.
“I'll bring out dessert! Me and Jay made a blueberry cream mousse together,” Izuku smiled from the doorway.
Jay took a seat right across from Katsuki, stretched his arms back and then laid his hands on his stomach, “Damn, I’m full,” He laughed but then reached over to the window sill that overlooked the back garden, “Let me put some music on.”
The man messes with the radio and turns it on to hear static. Only citizens of Ise would have an old radio in this day and age. Katsuki still appreciated the nice decorative, yet useful touch, since after all, he’s historically been a fan of all things retro. Katsuki leans back on his chair, full as well, and waits to see what Jay puts on.
“Pop…” Jay mutters to himself as he turns the dial, “No…Not that.” Some jazz comes on, and he listens to it for a few seconds before shaking his head.
Izuku comes out with the mouse and three dessert plates, and starts setting things up. Jay cooked all of the food for the most part, so the most he could do was serve it nicely. Izuku dollops some whipped cream carefully on top of the mousse and dishes it out one by one. The blueberry compote, despite chilling in the fridge, was still powerful in its sweet aroma, and suddenly, the phrase ‘there is always room for dessert’ made sense. Katsuki thanked him and pulled the plate towards himself.
“Ah! I haven’t heard this one in a while,” Jay finds a channel and shuffles back to his seat to get a look at the final result of their dessert, “I only listen to 80s here and there. How about you Bakugo? Izuku used to listen to it a lot, but not so much nowadays.”
Katsuki was still in his seat. Not frozen, but still . It was a familiar song, not one they listened to often when they were together. Izuku at the table also got quiet, but his demeanor stayed calm.
“Not so much anymore,” Katsuki replied, picking up his fork.
Izuku spoke up, “This is Eyes Without A Face by Billy Idol, right? I can’t remember the name of it exactly.”
Jay nodded, “Yeah, that’s the one.”
Izuku tilted his head to the side, “I didn’t know you liked this song, Jay.”
Katsuki shakes it off by making a gruff statement, “It’s a good song. Just never understood what it meant…”
Izuku recalls what Katsuki had said about it all those years ago, “Wasn’t it about a guy who’s heartbroken by a girl who wasn’t who he thought she was?”
Izuku looks at Katsuki for that answer, and the blonde couldn’t believe how casual the other could bring up their past just like that, as if they were just passive memories, meanwhile those same memories haunted Katsuki with every waking moment. The blonde shrugs, but maintains eye contact with the other. There were a million things unsaid in between this look. Katsuki wonders when the other had gotten so bold with eye contact, or had his feelings really strayed so far out of Katsuki’s reach that looking him in the eye for this long no longer means anything to Izuku.
“No, haven’t you watched the movie it’s based off of?” Jay shook his head laughing before clearing his throat, “It’s a french horror movie, and it’s pretty awful,” He leans forward in his seat, “After a girl gets into a car accident and disfigures her face, her dad who’s a plastic surgeon tries to fix it by stitching other people’s faces on them,” He spreads the whipped cream on the mousse, “But it doesn’t turn out well. And the dad spends the rest of his days in regret wishing he had never done it and ruined their relationship.”
Izuku let out an, “Okay?” And there was a slight waver in his voice that Katsuki almost let slip.
“And so the song,” Jay continues, “is loosely inspired. It’s a love song. But with the same idea. There are a million interpretations, but if you’re just asking me,” He folds his hands together, “the song is from the perspective of the one who got hurt. And realizing that sometimes, what we are attached to is not who we are now, but who we used to be.”
Katsuki ignored the feeling that Jay’s explanation gave him and responded promptly, “That isn’t fucking obvious at all in the song. Billy Idol missed with that one.”
“But he’s a musical genius…” Izuku muttered to the table as he poured himself a glass of milk. Katsuki smiled to himself at the familiar sentiment.
The evening sun was nearly finished with its chariot journey chasing across the sky and what Ise was left with was a nice blue hour. There were some large trees in the backyard and when the wind would flow through its branches, the leaves would shake a little and make a rattling sound. The conversation between the three of them came to a more quiet conclusion as they finished up dessert, and Katsuki was getting the idea that it was soon his time to leave. The thought of it both brought him relief and pain. Relief because the last two hours had made him go a little bad with bitter jealousy and want. Pain because the mere presence of Izuku, after years of not having seen even a glimpse of the man, was like a bandaid on a gaping wound. Pain because he knew that as long as he was here on this porch, he knew what was happening and what wasn’t happening. He knew Jay was sitting there, and Izuku was a foot away. He knew that the garden lights were dimly on, illuminating the flower beds on the ground with its faint yellow glow. He knew that the chair beneath him creaked when he would shift to the left a little.
But once he left here tonight, then all of those certainties were gone. And all that is left for him to do is wonder. Wonder, wonder, and wonder some more. He would wonder if Izuku was in bed next to his fiance, wonder if Jay was caressing his face and moving curly pieces of her out of his eyes right before they went to sleep. He would wonder if Jay brushed out his hair while Izuku brushed his teeth, and if Izuku did the same for Jay’s hair when Jay was brushing his teeth. He would wonder if they slept far apart from each other, or skintight. He would wonder if Izuku stays on his phone for another hour or so to scroll when Jay falls asleep, or if they said goodnight and slept at the same time. He would wonder if Izuku was wondering about him too.
But most of all, he would wonder what it would have been like if it were him , if this was them , and if everything was right in the world.
“Cicadas,” Izuku broke the silence that fell between the three men as they sat with empty dessert plates and empty glasses around the faded blue table. All were looking out in the garden, as if they were each afraid to look at one another knowing there were unspoken words heavy in the atmosphere. Now that the ambiance is darker, quieter, now that the time is later, the pretenses of joy and silliness are more difficult to maintain.
The cicadas were loud this summer, as they were every summer. Izuku finds their molten shells all over the trees in his backyard when he goes out here to read a book. They don’t bother him, and he does not bother them.
Jay stays quiet, leaning his chair up against the side of the house, and it was almost as if he wasn’t there if Katsuki just looked forward towards the garden, where the only person in his view was Izuku. He pretended that was the case.
“I can’t stand them,” Katsuki responds, not harshly, just factually.
Izuku tilts his head a little bit as if he’s contemplating his words, and Katsuki sits there waiting. Each time tonight that the other had spoken directly to him, Katsuki had documented it in his head so that in his dreams later tonight, he could replay the sound of Izuku’s voice addressing him just one more time.
“I think they are interesting,” Izuku speaks, and his voice is very calm and smooth. But Katsuki does not miss the way the other’s fingers were fidgeting slightly with the edge of the white table chair. Only slightly.
Katsuki holds his breath, unsure why. They were only talking about cicadas, “Yeah?”
Izuku hums and goes back to silence. The cicadas were not nearly as loud as they were that one night those many years ago, and yet it felt even more deafening as Katsuki waited for Izuku to explain.
“Did you know they are some of the longest living insects in the world? They can live anywhere from 13 to 18” Izuku asks genuinely, “Really neat, right?”
Katsuki acknowledges the fact, “Sure.”
Izuku nods and then takes his time to set his glass of milk down on the table behind him. He continues to look out in the garden for a while, listening to the sounds of the summer night. Katsuki almost thought that was all he had to say.
But then he continues, “They live so long, but the thing is, most of their lifespan is spent underground. Did you know that? Out of the 17-18 years they are alive, they spend almost all of that underground,” Izuku repeats.
Sure , Katsuki thought again.
After this, Izuku partly turns to him, the first truly solemn look was laid out on his face and the tiniest quiver of a bittersweet smile fell on his lips when he spoke, “After that many years, when the circumstances are just right, cicadas will leave the ground and they will fly for the first time. And they’ll explore and they’ll do all of the things that cicadas do.”
Izuku smiled, “But that’s the tragic thing about them, you know? They’ll fly for a little bit, but then after barely time at all,” He trailed off towards the end, turning his head back out to the garden, but Katsuki heard each single word clearly, “They’ll disappear.”