Work Text:
Katsuki had never felt so drained before; it felt like the bones in his body closed in on him, crushing every organ he had and leaving nothing but flesh and matter. It was an exhilarating feeling. His eyes weren’t focusing clearly; they began to fog up with his lack of blinking. Voices around him were nothing now.
The screen was playing live the aftermath of a tragic battle, a battle he wasn’t aware of and wasn’t quick enough to participate in. He had been stupidly struck with a quirk just mere days before this, which caused his body to drain any sort of energy it had before, making him and his quirk unusable. The gods above seemed to be mocking him when he heard the news: Izuku was in a harsh battle to defeat this villain that had a profound quirk, something about stopping the movement of blood. And Izuku, his poor Izuku, was struck in such a painful way Katsuki didn’t want to even remember the exact words he was told by Aizawa this morning.
So there he lay, watching with absolute horror as the camera panned to the pale and lifeless body of Izuku Midoriya.
It was such an unnerving sight. Izuku was always so bright, so full of light and joy; it wasn’t right to see him with nothing in his eyes. The light was long gone; there was nothing. It was so wrong. Katsuki felt the bile coming up his throat at the sight—it was just so wrong. He couldn’t even form a tear. His body was drained of anything he could possibly let out, that included words. When he heard the concerned murmurs of Kirishima beside him, he couldn’t say anything, not even a sob.
Ultramarine blue, Cadmium lemon— No, Cremintz white. Fuck, wait, he ran out of that. Phthalo green then.
His palette contained the different shades of green, some dried and peeling, some fresh yet wiped away due to its incorrect shade. Katsuki was relentless about the shades he was supposed to get. After all, the tubes of color he made before had all been used up already. The green was such an annoying part. Had it always been this hard to match colors? It’s been like this lately; colors were beginning to seem off, even if he used the exact amount every time. It began to tick him off a bit. And no, he isn’t forgetting him. Izuku is burnt into his memory. Forgetting parts of him was simply off the grid and an insane suggestion.
Katsuki was once again in the same position. It was a miracle the floor hadn’t eroded to form an indent where he sat, because that was the spot he sat every day, for the past three years, for hours upon hours a day. Canvases were everywhere around him, some thick and some thin, but they all contained the same person anyway: Izuku.
He had been painting him ever since that day. Katsuki had always been skilled at art, and since he had been in love with Izuku for decades, portraying him in any form wasn’t too hard. He had sculpted him before in his high school days, drew him during classes, painted him during his free time. Izuku was his muse, his only ever inspiration. It used to be Katsuki’s hobby, something he did to keep himself from getting bored. Now, it was something he desperately did every second like a chore, to cling onto the memories he had before they slipped away to oblivion. Izuku wasn’t here anymore, and if Katsuki forgets his face, it would be as if Izuku himself was gone completely. The only traces of his days with Katsuki were feeble memories in his brain. He cursed himself every day for ever forgetting even the smallest memory of Izuku. He couldn’t afford to lose something he adored so much.
His eyes were trailing over the raw surface of the canvas. The Burnt sienna underpainting outlined the figure of Izuku, him turning around with a bright smile. It was one of the earlier memories Katsuki had of him, where one time he trailed along Izuku after school, poking fun at him after he failed a test. Amidst his teasing, he didn’t even realize how quiet he was, and when he peeked over to glance at Izuku, he saw tears, fat globs rimming his massive eyes. Now, making Izuku cry surprisingly was never something he had achieved, and he simply did not know what to do back then, so he gruffly promised to not poke fun at his studies again. And when he did, it was the first time seeing Izuku saying bye to him with such a bright, wide smile. It automatically saved a place for itself in Katsuki’s heart, and the image deeply burned at the back of his brain. It was such a simple gesture he had done yet it elicited such a smile from Izuku.
The white areas of the canvas that weren’t covered by the underpainting began to sting his eyes, Katsuki didn’t even realise how long he had been staring at the messy outline and the rough sketch of Izuku, because his eyes must’ve began tearing up from how long he didn’t blink. The tears rolled down his face, a sudden wakeup call, he was forcibly pulled out of his daze, in the sweet memory of Izuku’s smile.
He went back to mixing and painting, doing the shadows first, blocking out the bigger areas. Now, Katsuki’s place wasn’t too well ventilated, and with his use of turpentine, he began to feel rather light headed, his vision blurs a couple of times before his body succumbs and he drops his palette on the hard wood floor, and his own body falling to the side.
It must’ve been hours after when he woke up, in his mind, he was cursing the turpentine for doing such a thing to him, before he could ponder even more he suddenly realised he wasn’t alone, and the gasp from Denki confirms that.
”Shit— guys he’s awake!..Mina stop dialling the police he’s awake!”
His friends huddle around him, their worries all plastered onto their faces. Kirishima was holding a sandwich and he helps Katsuki up before shoving the sandwich in his mouth, almost choking him in the process and eliciting a gasp and a yelp from everyone.
“I know damn well you haven’t eaten in probably days, so swallow!”
Kirishima scolds, and Katsuki does not debate, he has indeed, not eaten anything in days because of how much he has been painting, so he eats the sandwich in a few bites and stares back at the painting, he had somehow actually, did some more painting he forgot he had done before he blacked out, and the way the warm colours were layered on Izuku’s face, it almost made him rush over and hug the painting, as if it’ll give him the warmth he craved from Izuku— he just, really, really needed him, to the point a blurry painting of him was enough to make him sob.
His friends left shortly after, seeing how quiet Katsuki was they took the hint and leave him be. Soon the place was quiet again, leaving only his yearning loud.
The painting pieced itself together, Katsuki was relentless in finishing it soon— well because, he started this bigger painting since Izuku’s Birthday was coming soon, and he wanted to give Inko a nicer present this year. He and Inko had gotten closer after Izuku’s passing, with their shared grief acting as a bonding agent.
He had finally finished it two days before his birthday, and as he waited for it to dry before varnish, he found himself suddenly.. aching to talk to someone, the ringing in his ears from his quirk gets really, really irritating and without a voice it could really drive someone insane.
“Katsuki? How have you been? Are you eating well?”
Mitsuki’s voice comes through the phone, her voice lingering with a mild worry. She has been extra concerned about Katsuki after since Izuku died, knowing it probably took a massive toll on him.
“Yea, I’ve been alright. Just.. you know.”
She sighs in understanding. Katsuki had been dealing with hearing issues ever since he entered high school, and even with him not using it much anymore, it still consistently affects him.
”Well, if you need us, drop by anytime, your father misses you as well.”
On the day of Izuku’s birthday, Katsuki had contacted Inko about meeting at his grave, like they did every year. While Inko has a nice chat about how life has been, and how much she misses him, Katsuki just sits there in silence, staring at the smiling picture he had on his grave. He never knows what to say, because he just couldn’t express how he felt with words, at all.
When it came to finally giving Inko the gift, he forgot how many art pieces of Izuku he had lying around, so needless to say Inko had shed a good amount of tears when she entered his place. Sculptures and paintings of Izuku were scattered everywhere, and now, with the new big painting he finished, it felt .. complete. Inko broke down in tears, the sight of her son smiling as if he was still present, along with the bright yet comforting colours used, it really hit her hard. Katsuki knew he would get a reaction similar to this when he decided to painting this for her, but what he didn’t expect was the letter Inko handed him.
“I found this while looking through some old pictures of his, and it’s addressed to you.”
The letter was written using paper from an All Might notebook, with tiny All Mights in the background. There was no envelope, just the words ‘Kacchan’ on one of the folded sides. Upon opening it, Katsuki notices the date it was written— a week Izuku’s passing, and also, a week before Katsuki’s birthday, because he died a day before his 17th birthday. He inhaled sharply, his heart preparing for what he’s about to read.
”To Kacchan,
Happy Birthday!! ^u^ I know I tell you this every year but you are genuinely the best person I’ve ever met and I never want you to forget it, even if you don’t care about it too much.
I was gonna get you a gift but I couldn’t really find anything good so I planned on going out together soon so you could pick one out :> just so you would love whatever it is, and we also could hang out together(if you want to of course)
Anyway, I hope you have the best day year ever, and many more years to come, wishing you so much luck on your exams (even though i know you’ll pass since you’re super smart >3<)
Deku”
Katsuki didn't know when he began crying, but he was, tears flowing down his face seemingly endlessly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried this hard, but he was choking on his tears, but also being careful not to stain Izuku’s letter to him with tears. The painful realisation that Izuku never got to give this to him was genuinely the breaking point for him.
Inko gave him a hug, comforting him with her words but the only thing he could hear was his own quickened breathing and nothing else, nothing else mattered, he was just shattered beyond belief.
Katsuki came to the realisation during his crying that he needed Izuku, it wasn’t just a yearning anymore, it was a deep rooted need. So, what better way to fulfil his need than to join his love?
His legs were dangling over the quiet ocean, the night breeze brushing against his skin. He was sat at the bridge Izuku and him used to walk pass a lot, and he had already taken his shoes off. He didn’t feel much at the moment, it was as if he was on anaesthesia, because everything was simply numb, and all he wanted was to be in Izuku’s presence again.
He left the keys to his place in Inko’s mailbox before he went here, because knowing that he wouldn’t be there to dust and look after the art pieces made his heart sting a bit, and he felt like Inko deserved all the Izuku pieces he had ever made.
At night the bridge was empty, not a car passing by at all. He stared into the waters that reflected the iridescent moonlight, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing Izuku again.
His phone played ‘The one that got away’ by Katy Perry, it was cheesy, but it felt like it was perfect. The rhythm masked the sound of him slowly pushing off the creaky bridge.
The fall to the rocky oceans was peaceful. Katsuki would go as far to say that it was the best thing he had ever experienced, he felt like his heart was returning back to his beloved, and his soul finally becoming full again.
In the next life, Izuku.