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You don’t notice your world is collapsing until it happens. When you’re falling through the depths of your mind and can only take a glance at the memories you’re leaving behind as you fall, fall, fall. And Katsuki’s world was crumbling all because of four simple words: “Sorry, that’s not happening.”
How four words, said so airily, as if it was something funny, could hurt so much, Katsuki didn’t know. Who would’ve known that the person who even taught Katsuki what love was, could break his heart so carelessly.
Of course Katsuki knows that’s not what he meant, of course Katsuki knows that Izuku has the right to his decision, but it still hurt like shit. He understands that Izuku found a new dream, something other than their shared old, childish one. Katsuki really was stuck in the past.
He still had that pang of anticipation for when Izuku addressed him, to hear that childhood nickname sliding through his tongue. But every time that anticipation was shot down, and he was lucky to even get a Katsuki if not Dynamight.
As if he was just a passing colleague, as if they didn’t know each other since diapers. As if the high school nights where Izuku would knock and ask to stay the night because he couldn’t sleep in fear after the war didn’t mean anything.
Katsuki really wanted to be petty and call him Deku. He did occasionally when he was on duty in professional settings, but never in casual settings. The nickname caused bile to rest on his throat bringing back appalling memories.
And it really wasn’t fair of Katsuki to be mad, because again, it was Izuku’s decision. He went fully into this project knowing that there was the smallest chance that Izuku could find a new dream to pursue. Katsuki knew, yet in some form of arrogance, he just assumed that Izuku would drop the teaching gig and race at the opportunity to become hero partners.
He really did mean what he said at the hospital that day. Katsuki wasn’t trying to cheer Izuku up or anything of the sort. Katsuki really thought that they would be chasing after each other for the rest of their lives.
Bakugou Katsuki was sixteen when he died, sixteen when he learnt he might never use his arms again. Seventeen when he decided to make his best friend’s dream possible again, spending the upcoming eight years working graveyard shifts, surviving on convenience store food and struggling to make ends meet, all to see the spark back in the eyes of the love of his life.
And, to be fair, the spark did in fact come back. Except it wasn’t caused by the hero suit, as Katsuki had hoped. It was caused by the fact that fucking pink cheeks started paying attention to him. If the gravity of the situation wasn’t completely making Katsuki’s life a living hell, he would have laughed at the irony. Izuku stopped looking up to Katsuki, and decided to go for Uraraka. The same lit-up expression he used to have when looking at Katsuki now belonged to Round face.
He groaned into his arms, which were resting on the steering wheel. He was alone, having asked for a moment to himself before entering the private room the class had rented. He was still trying to get his feelings in control, having been holding back tears earlier.
Stupid, he knows. But it was either feigning indifference or crying like some toddler who didn’t get a new toy. Katsuki was so, so utterly selfish, because what else would explain the reason why he felt so wronged when Izuku had done nothing but have a new endeavor to pursue?
Fuck. He opens the center control compartment, digging for the travel sized pack of wipes, and aggressively wiping his face down. His reflection flashes at him when he looks at the seat window, his eyes ringed with red and face undeniably puffy.
He looks like he’s been– shit. If he rushes to the bathroom first thing, will any of the extras bother him? He quickly does the calculation, and realizes that they’ll be too occupied with talking, knowing that they have literal motors for mouths, and if they do give him shit about anything, he’ll blow up their faces.
His mouth finds its way to a frown, realizing the subconscious violent thought. First the whole not being able to accept Izuku’s decision, and know this? He felt like a shitty kid again, not being able to control his temper and his personality trait of being an asshole slowly rising back. He feels the vomit rise to his throat again as he shivers at the rancid ghost-taste. Unfortunately, the universe hates him more that it pities him as he sees the flash of red before the door is opened.
“Katsuki? Shit, are you okay? You need to sit this one out?” Eijirou worriedly says, and Katsuki absent-mindedly shrugs him off, like he always does. He really is a hypocrite, always telling Izuku to take care of himself. Except Izuku deserves it.
“Nah, ‘s just some shitty takeout I got earlier. I’m fine.” Katsuki says automatically, his voice coming out the slightest raspier than usual. He sucks his teeth before saying, “I’m thirsty as fuck. You got any water?”
“Not on me right now. But there’s water inside. And seriously bro, are you good? I really think Todoroki would understand if–”
“I said I’m fine.” Katsuki snaps sharply, and Eijirou looks, frankly, a bit baffled. Katsuki’s eyes widen a bit, and he takes a deep breath. “Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind. But I'll be fine, really.” Eijirou’s eyes soften in understanding, and his mouth opens a little as if he just had an ‘oh’ moment.
“No worries, my dude!” He gives a sharp toothed grin, fingers giving two thumbs up, which makes Katsuki oddly reminisce about Denki’s signature move. As they go in, Katsuki quickly stops Eijirou from opening the area door.
“Do you mind if I went to the bathroom real quick? I’ll join you back inside.” Eijirou nods and Katsuki makes his way to the bathroom. The splash of the ice cold water on Katsuki’s face brings him down to earth as he realizes that he really needs to get his shit together.
He isn’t some teenager anymore, making his obnoxious issues everyone’s problem. He looked at himself in the mirror and attempted to smile. The corners looked forced and the shine didn’t meet his eyes. The smile immediately dropped as he groaned again. Fuck.
After a bit, he makes his way to the private room, his friends grinning when they spot him. “Yo, Bakugou! What took you so long!” Kaminari shouts, to which Katsuki responds with an eye roll.
“I just had shit to do in my car.” He says, not missing the concerned glare Kirishima sends him. The other idiots obviously fall for it though, going back to their earlier stupid conversation. Katsuki sighs and takes a seat next to Izuku and in front of Kirishima, sitting in a criss-cross sort of position.
“Hi Katsuki!” Izuku smiles, as if they hadn’t just seen each other in the car. Katsuki’s mind trails back to their earlier conversation. He spares him a ‘hi nerd’ before turning his attention to the food and opening the paper wrapping of the chopsticks. Izuku just shrugs at this and falls back into conversation with Shitty Hair.
Growing up drifts people apart, he knew that. But really, the only thing keeping him together is the small string of the past he’s been holding on to, one that's frayed and sawed and the gentlest flick could break apart. If he had done something sooner, if he had apologized sooner, maybe they could have formed a friendship before it was too late. If he had taken his hand that day in the river, maybe the rift in their childhood could’ve been prevented.
An hour passes, conversations are exchanged, people switch tables. Izuku’s already made his way to Uraraka’s table. Katsuki tries to prevent himself from watching the two, tries to stop himself because he knows it’ll only hurt other than anything. But he fails, and his eyes trail back to Izuku, like they always do. Izuku is sipping his drink, watching Uraraka as she laughs at something Tsuyu said.
Something about his expression halts Katsuki’s heart. Izuku’s face is softened, eyes enchanted, and it might be the prettiest thing Katsuki’s ever seen. Izuku has the face of someone in love. Someone looking at the most important, precious thing in the world to them. Someone looking at their hero.
And oh how Katsuki in that moment wishes he could be Uraraka. For Izuku to look at him the way he looks at her. Katsuki knows he’s selfish, so selfish, because Uraraka is perfect for him. She’s soft spoken, strong, caring, compassionate, everything Katsuki isn’t. She’s never hurt Izuku, and she never would.
She’s the one who turned something Katsuki had built with pure hatred against Izuku into something loving. She’s the one who convinced a whole crowd to let Izuku into safety, the one who opened a whole program because of someone she was unable to save.
After a bit, he doesn’t know how or when, because everything is quite literally a blur, Izuku invites him into their conversation. They’re discussing embarrassing moments from their high school days, and Izuku is bubbled up with laughter. Katsuki is half listening, focused on the way Izuku’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, and the rosy tint from the alcohol coating his cheeks. A single sentence breaks him from his trance.
“Oh my god Izuku! Do you remember your little crush on Bakugou, back when we were kids?” Uraraka laughs, slapping Izuku playfully in the shoulder.
What the fuck?
Izuku sputters an “It’s not like that anymore!” before joining into her laughter. “Seriously.. Ha.. It’s been years! I totally forgot about that..” Katsuki laughs a bit, to avoid suspicion, but his mind is racing and his heart is going haywire.
Izuku likes him? No, past tense, liked him. It could’ve just been confusion. He must have mistaken his admiration for attraction, and realized. Because Katsuki wasn’t someone a person could love. Especially Izuku, the person who knows all his weaknesses and insecurities, the one person who knows him inside out.
Katsuki wasn’t someone a person could love. You could argue that he’s changed, but he only went from being an asshole to the bare minimum of a decent human being. He would only hurt Izuku. He wasn’t capable of being a good partner. Katsuki was doomed to be alone until the very end.
And that’s why, he smiled. He smiled whenever Uraraka and Izuku got too close and ended up a stuttering mess, or when they were caught in their secret held gazes. Katsuki smiled when Izuku waved goodbye to head to Uraraka. Smiled when Izuku announced they were dating 3 months later. Because what more could he do than wish for happiness for Izuku? The most he could wish for was for his love to be happy, even if he had to watch from the sidelines.