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Hitoshi hates life, and his own especially.
He glares up at the ceiling of the bedroom, unwilling to call out to Katsuki so he can help him leave the godforsaken bed, and he's going to drag it out for as long as he can, stewing in his anger and hate and helplessness.
Which isn't all that long, really, because Katsuki is a goddamn psychic and pokes his head into the room mere ten minutes after Hitoshi woke up as if he could feel the energy in the apartment shift.
"Morning," Katsuki says, coming closer when he realises Hitoshi is awake. "How are you feeling?"
It's an innocent enough question, something every partner would ask in their situation and yet it makes rage burn hot and bright under Hitoshi's skin.
"Fuck you," he rasps out, continuing to stare at the ceiling because he doesn't want to crane his neck around and he isn't yet ready for Katsuki to help him sit up.
He doubts he'll ever be really ready for Katsuki to help him in that way, but with his injury there's not much else to do but rely on Katsuki for his every goddamn move.
And Hitoshi hates it.
"Yeah, later maybe," Katsuki carelessly gives back and comes to a stop besides the bed. "You ready to get up yet?"
"I'm ready to die," Hitoshi grumbles out because he is.
This is torture, this is hell and he'd rather be dead than rely on Katsuki for another minute.
"Shut the hell up," Katsuki sighs out and with practiced movements gets Hitoshi into a sitting position at the edge of the bed. "The hell crawled up your ass and died there?"
Hitoshi only glares at Katsuki for that, who is clearly completely unfazed, because he meets Hitoshi's rage-filled glare easily and then he moves Hitoshi's wheelchair closer.
"Ready?" Katsuki asks—again—and then doesn't wait for Hitoshi's cranky answer.
The fact that Hitoshi does his best to help along is already proof enough anyway that he's not quite as despondent as he makes himself out to be but it still doesn't change the fact that Hitoshi hates his life.
At least at the moment and probably for the foreseeable future, too.
His doctors couldn't give him an accurate assessment on how long it would take him to be a fully functioning member of society again, what with his spine being severed in two separate places.
Which is something apparently not even healing quirks can fully heal in a matter of seconds because there's something about nerves having to heal naturally and bodily functions having to come back on their own.
Hitoshi didn't really listen to any of the bullshit besides the fact that he'd be dependent on another person for the foreseeable future and that his life would consist of bed, the couch and a wheelchair he needs assistance getting in to.
It's bullshit is what it is and if he has to spend one more day where he needs Katsuki to wipe his ass he's going to jump off a building.
Doesn't matter that he's probably not even going to make it up there, it's the thought that counts.
"Hands," Katsuki demands once they are in the kitchen and even though for a moment Hitoshi resents him with the fires of a thousand suns he holds out his hands.
Which are, for once, steady.
"Great, no kiddy chopsticks for you today," Katsuki cheerfully says as if it's really that much of an achievement to not need things made for kids and he plates Hitoshi's food and then sits down opposite of him.
His almost content look only falls when Hitoshi's doesn't start to eat immediately.
"What's wrong? Any pain?" Katsuki wants to know, already half-way up to get Hitoshi his medication, which still consists of way too many pills a day to be comfortable but instead of answering him, Hitoshi almost throws his chopsticks down.
"The fuck is wrong with you?"
Hitoshi works his jaw a few times, because this is stupid and deep down he knows that it's stupid but it doesn't change the fact that he realised that he's gained weight.
Well, gained fat, more like, because overall he lost a lot of muscle and therefore weighs less than before he got injured but—it's his stomach.
It's no longer flat and firm but squishy and slightly bulgy and Hitoshi hates it so damn much he can't even think about eating.
"I want to go back to bed," he hisses out, painfully aware that he's not going to make it there by himself because even moving the wheelchair is more than his body can take at the moment and they both know it.
"You can, as soon as you've eaten something. You need it for your medication and skipping that is not an option," Katsuki tells him, with the patience of a saint and Hitoshi wonders where he found all that patience.
He used to have such a short fuse, used to be so easily inconvenienced by small things, but he's taken Hitoshi's injury in stride, has seamlessly rearranged his entire life to work around whatever Hitoshi might need and if Hitoshi didn't resent everything so much, it would be incredibly sweet.
Mostly it's just infuriating, though, because Hitoshi shouldn't need any of this help. He should be a healthy twenty-six-year-old male, a hero who is in the prime of their life and career and instead he's wheelchair bound.
Temporarily, but still.
"I'm not gonna eat shit," Hitoshi spits out because the thought of gaining even more weight—more fat—makes him feel sick to his stomach and Katsuki must realise that it's something more than just one of Hitoshi's many temper tantrums he's had in the past.
"Why not?" Katsuki asks, honestly and curiously and it's enough to tug the truth out of Hitoshi's mouth just like that.
"I'm already fat enough as it is."
Katsuki blinks at that and Hitoshi juts knows that there's something he wants to say, but strangely enough Katsuki stays quiet, clearly swallowing whatever it was down and sighing instead.
"You're not fat, Hitoshi. You're healing and your body needs all the calories it can get."
Logically, Hitoshi knows that. Emotionally, he couldn't give less of a fuck.
"That's not what you wanted to say," Hitoshi says and glares at Katsuki.
He feels it's the only thing he's doing lately and it makes him feel bad but the anger over his situation still drowns out anything else so easily.
"No, it's not."
"Then spit it out," Hitoshi hisses and watches Katsuki press his lips together for a moment.
"You're going to hate what I wanted to say."
"What's one more thing to hate," Hitoshi bitterly mutters and stares down at his useless legs and his useless arms and his useless, fat body.
"You're being—" Katsuki starts, his voice holding more of that anger Hitoshi is so used to but he bites it back, swallows it all down and instead takes a deep breath.
And again with the patience. Hitoshi wonders what it would take these days for Katsuki to blow up in his face, but he's afraid to ask.
Deep down he's afraid to send Katsuki running, that one day his moods and his anger will hit where they hurt the worst and Katsuki will leave him over it and then that's it.
Then Hitoshi would be helpless and alone and he can't think of anything worse, but he also can't find the words to apologise.
"Like I said, you're going to hate it, but you're basically a marshmallow, good for cuddling. A skinny marshmallow still, but getting there. You've always been too lean and too lanky and a bit of fat is not going to hurt you, especially not with all the physical therapy that's in your future."
For a moment Hitoshi just sits there, staring at Katsuki as if he didn't comprehend a single word and then, the volcano inside of him simply erupts.
He starts screaming—what, he isn't even sure himself. He's pretty certain there are actual words in there because after long minutes Katsuki starts to scream right back but the meaning of them escapes Hitoshi.
He just knows that he has to go on, that he has to scream and rage and get everything out there or else he's going to die quicker than any of them ever thought possible.
So he continues to hurl screams and probably hurtful words at Katsuki, who screams right back and it isn't until Hitoshi shouts "And why the fuck are you even still here, why the fuck do you care?" that he tunes back in to what he is saying and just in time, too, because Katsuki screams right back.
"Because one day this is going to be me!"
It's surprising enough to make Hitoshi's mouth fall shut with a sharp clack of his teeth and Katsuki is breathing so hard that for a moment Hitoshi fears he's going to have a panic attack right there.
"What do you mean?" he finally asks, his voice rough from all the screaming and Katsuki slumps in his chair.
"I mean that one day it's going to be me, sitting there, being unable to do anything and I would want you to care and still be there then."
"That's not—what? Why would it be?"
Hitoshi's injury was a mission gone bad paired with a freak accident and incredibly bad luck. There's no way Katsuki is ever going to end up where he is right now.
"I'm—" Katsuki moves his hand over his mouth as if he's trying to keep the words inside, but when Hitoshi continues to stare at him, he drops his hand.
Hitoshi is shocked to see his eyes brimming with tears and he hates that he can't simply get up and walk around the table to hug him.
"The doctors think my heart is going to give out before I'm thirty-five. Thirty-seven, if I'm lucky and get a lot of calm months until then."
Hitoshi knows that Katsuki has regular appointments regarding his heart and every other damage he took during the war, but Katsuki never speaks about it and so Hitoshi didn't know the prognosis was that grim.
"Giving out—how?"
"Pacemaker, for sure. Transplant if I'm unlucky. It won't be able to handle blood pressure higher than resting baseline and if my pulse gets too quick it might just kill me." Katsuki takes a shuddering breath. "My arm is likely to give out before that."
Katsuki flexes his hand, stares down at it as if it betrayed him and Hitoshi has always admired the scars and the strength it took to come back from an injury like that without ever thinking about the long-term consequences.
"It's not going to hold up?"
"The constant explosions are rattling apart the bone. It's a very well-made puzzle, every piece of bone back where it belongs but the cracks are still there. And my quirk is not a gentle one."
So one day Katsuki's arm is simply going to shatter apart again and he won't be able to use it anymore.
Hitoshi takes in a wet breath.
"I didn't know."
"Because I never said," Katsuki immediately gives back. "Because I don't want it to happen and I don't want you to have to do all of this and—because I'm scared you won't want to."
"You're going to need help," Hitoshi realises because the blood pressure alone probably means that Katsuki can't even go get groceries for them.
"I'm probably going to be in the position you are in now. I'll need someone to look after me at all times. Sure, I can learn to use my left hand, but—daily life is going to be difficult."
"And you think I wouldn't want to?"
"Look at you, Toshi. You're a much more mellow person than I am, all snark aside, and yet you're brimming with anger and hatred over the situation you're in. You think I'm going to be any different? I'm going to go into cardiac arrest probably twice a day just because the inability to do something is going to drive me insane. And then what? You're going to see it through until my stupid heart gives out for good?"
"Yes," Hitoshi immediately says, because of course he is.
He's going to stay with Katsuki until one of them dies and if that means he gets yelled at every day for the rest of their lives then he's going to damn well take it and he'll be grateful for it, too.
"I've been wondering why you're so patient," Hitoshi says with dawning understanding. "But you are because you realise that one day our roles are going to be reversed."
"Except I'm not going to get better," Katsuki bitterly says. "It's only downhill for me from then on."
"And I'm going to be there," Hitoshi chokes out because it's unthinkable for him to not be there when Katsuki needs him.
"We'll see about that," Katsuki mutters.
"Angel, of course I'm going to be there. Did you ever think about quitting this? Us?"
"Of course not," Katsuki immediately replies because of course he hasn't ever considered that before and Hitoshi nods.
"And I'm not going to do that, either. It's us, right? You and me, Kats, until we die. We promised."
"We did," Katsuki weakly agrees and Hitoshi struggles to lift his hand up high enough to move it over the table, wiggling his fingers when Katsuki doesn't get with the program fast enough.
When he finally takes Hitoshi's hand in his, it's Katsuki's strength holding them together and not Hitoshi's but he'll take it.
One of them can carry the other if they are unable to.
"I'm not going anywhere, no matter how much you rage at me. I'm going to be right there, I promise."
Katsuki swallows heavily a few times, silent tears spilling over and Hitoshi cries right with him.
"Yeah, well. I'm not going anywhere either so you can stop trying to make me," Katsuki finally says, his voice wet with tears and Hitoshi laughs, tears be damned.
"Point taken," he says and forces every ounce of strength into his fingers so he can squeeze Katsuki's hand once. "I don't want you to go, anyway," he then admits, because he wants Katsuki with him until the world burns down and Katsuki seems to understand that because he nods.
"Now after all this horrible bullshit, can we get back to how you really need to eat?" he asks after a moment and Hitoshi snorts out a laugh so hard it hurts him everywhere, but he also grimaces down at his food.
"Can't anymore," he admits and tries to raise his hand again, but he doesn't have any strength left.
The screaming really took it out of him.
"I'll help," Katsuki softly says, briefly swiping the tears off his own face before he moves around the table, doing the same to Hitoshi's face and then picking up Hitoshi's chopsticks and holding out some food for him to eat.
It grates, because of course it does, because Hitoshi is a damn fucking adult who should be able to feed himself, but he's not. Not right now, at least and yet, Katsuki is right there, willing to take over where Hitoshi's body is failing him and yeah.
Okay. Hitoshi can do this.
He can do it now and accept the help Katsuki so willingly offers, he can swallow his rage down and focus on healing and getting better and on not being an ass.
And he can do it later, when Katsuki's body starts to fail him and he needs help, when Hitoshi will have to do things for him and help him in ways Katsuki is going to resent but will still need.
Together, they can do this.