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Hitoshi can pinpoint the exact moment that his life went to shit and surprisingly enough it's not one of the obvious ones.
It wasn't when his birth parents died and he got thrust into foster care. It wasn't when someone called him a villain for the first time, or hit him for the fun of it, or hurt him simply because they could.
It wasn't when Aizawa offered to train him, it wasn't when he was allowed to fight in the war and get his provisional license that way and it also wasn't when Aizawa and Yamada fostered and then later adopted him.
It wasn't when Hitoshi graduated and got his real license and it also wasn't when he got hired at an agency and finally achieved his dream of becoming a real hero.
No, his life went to shit on a random Tuesday afternoon in third year when Bakugou Katsuki confessed his feelings to him and Hitoshi blew him off.
Quite nicely, he thinks, but he still rejected him anyway and now his life is in shambles and he's about to die in less than ten days and it can all be pinpointed back to that one moment all those years ago.
Hitoshi was stupid enough to reject Bakugou Katsuki and now he has hanahaki.
He's going to die because of a stupid mistake he made years ago and if he's especially unlucky, then Katsuki is going to find out before he can bite the dust, too, and Hitoshi really doesn't want to know what Katsuki would say to that.
Hitoshi doubts that Katsuki hates him enough to be all smug about his end, but there is something to be said about karma here and Katsuki is going to see it, too.
His head makes a dull thud sound as it hits the table and even though Hitoshi does this almost daily, it's still enough to get Katsuki to turn around to him. Hitoshi doesn't even need to see him to know that he's frowning as he glares.
"Your face is gonna get stuck that way," Hitoshi mutters, more towards the table than Katsuki but he's being whacked by a spoon anyway and Hitoshi hides his smile before a cough tears through him that leaves him with tears in his eyes.
"The hell is going on with you?" Katsuki wants to know, and Hitoshi knows him well enough to hear the underlying worry in his voice because Katsuki is good like that.
Because even when Hitoshi rejected him as nicely as a stupid seventeen-year-old who only had his mind set on becoming a hero could, Katsuki stayed and became Hitoshi's best fucking friend.
Load of good that is doing him now, he bitterly thinks and then mentally kicks himself, because this is hardly Katsuki's fault.
It's Hitoshi's—for blowing off the best thing that ever could have happened to him and then falling for him seven years too late.
"Are you worried about your new mission?" Katsuki asks when Hitoshi doesn't quite manage to pick his face out of the table, even though his breathing comes out short and raspy and he can feel the tell-tale tingle of a flower making its way up.
It's a bloody affair by now, Hitoshi's throat torn to shreds most days and the healer at the agency is getting sick and tired of healing him for it.
Or maybe he's just worried out of his mind that they are going to lose Nighthide, who even knows anymore.
"Cancelled," Hitoshi shortly gives back, his voice scratchy as fuck and he does his best to swallow and prolong the new coughing fit for at least a few minutes.
"What? Why?" Katsuki must have whipped around to him again because Hitoshi can feel his heavy gaze once more and he finally, finally picks himself up and rights himself in the chair.
Seeing Katsuki with the apron he keeps at Hitoshi's place, in a kitchen he commandeers as if it's his own, preparing dinner for the both of them like he always does at Saturdays doesn't help with the tight feeling in Hitoshi's chest at all and soon enough he's doubled over with the force of his coughs.
The flower doesn't dislodge yet, so Hitoshi can look forward to that happening in the next five minutes and when he finally manages to catch his breath, there's very obvious worry plastered on Katsuki's face.
"Tanked the evals," Hitoshi mutters and really, he hates the fact that he even needs to do those because if his agency didn't insist on a physical and mental evaluation before they send him into deep undercover missions Hitoshi could have died heroically while infiltrating a big crime organisation.
But instead the head of his agency forced him through the normal steps and the doctor had to listen to the rasp in his lungs and his therapist asked him if he sees himself coming out of the mission alive which Hitoshi truthfully answered with a resounding no and baam.
Mission cancelled.
Instead of slinking off and dying where no one can see—where Katsuki never has to learn about the true cause of his death—the head of his agency scheduled the surgery for him.
Which Hitoshi missed. Twice.
By now they are so unamused that they threatened to tranq him in his home and drag him to the operation room themselves should he miss the third appointment, too, and Hitoshi is under no illusion that it was an empty threat.
They are going to do it, no matter if he wants it to happen or not, and rationally, Hitoshi understands that.
He's well liked, he's a goddamn good hero, and he's pretty certain that if his parents knew about this they would not be on Hitoshi's side here but—
Hitoshi really doesn't want to lose all of his emotions for Katsuki.
Sure, they are killing him and that sucks on so many different levels but Katsuki is not only his one missed chance, he's also Hitoshi's best friend.
He's Hitoshi's most important person, right after his parents, and Hitoshi really does not want to lose that.
"You never tank the evals," Katsuki says, dragging Hitoshi out of his thoughts. "Wait, evals? Even the physical?"
Hitoshi makes a noise that could be agreement and Katsuki puts down his spoon.
"You're not physically cleared to go on a mission? Why? Are you sick?"
Hitoshi wants to snap at him that it's more than obvious with his cough—which he knows Katsuki has noticed before—but he is very fittingly cut off by the flower finally making it's way out of his throat.
He doubles over, coughing and hacking until he can finally feel it dislodging, and he's coughing blood even before the flower comes out as well and Katsuki must have thought he was about to throw up because there's a strategically placed basket in front of him that Hitoshi spits in to.
He's still trying to catch his breath when the basket is being torn from his shaky hands and Katsuki looks into it, clearly already knowing that he's not going to find the contents of Hitoshi's stomach in there.
"What is this?" he asks, with none of the disgust Hitoshi expected but all of the worry he doesn't deserve and Hitoshi sighs.
"Can I have a glass of water?" he mutters, and Katsuki's eyes snap to him and for a moment they just stare at each other before Katsuki's eyes are drawn to something near Hitoshi's mouth.
There must be blood there, because there's no other reason for Katsuki to stare like that and Hitoshi wipes his mouth as best as he can, while his chest tingles in that tell-tale way that means a new flower is growing.
They are coming so fast now and so frequently, even when Katsuki isn't around and Hitoshi knows that the doctor at his agency said he has ten days left at most but it doesn't feel like it.
He probably won't even make it to the next surgery appointment and wouldn't that be a big, fat fuck you to his boss.
Katsuki just barely doesn't slam the glass of water down in front of him and Hitoshi takes greedy gulps, prolonging the inevitable.
He has to tell Katsuki now. There's no way he's going to let it drop, not when the flower is right there, not when Katsuki is stubborn enough to fish it out of the garbage and wash it off and then piece it together himself.
And Hitoshi doesn't have it in him to slink off and hide himself away; he's already weak enough that he's craving the comforts of home and Katsuki has a key. There is no running away from him.
"Hitoshi, what is this?" Katsuki asks once more, with a pointed look at the basket and Hitoshi sighs.
He knows he's in deep shit by the way Katsuki used his given name instead of a stupid nickname—he only ever does that when he's really angry or worried out of his mind and if Hitoshi had to guess he'd say right about now he's both.
Hitoshi simply looks at him for a moment, takes him in one last time before he fucks it all up—again—and then he takes a deep breath.
Well, as deep a breath as the growing foliage in his lungs allows him to do.
"I have hanahaki," he finally says, puts it out there without any misdirections and he sees how Katsuki goes pale.
"What?" he breathes out and Hitoshi shrugs with a wry smile.
"Gonna be dead in less than ten days," he says as if it doesn't mean anything, as if he isn't scared shitless despite his bluster, as if he wouldn't give anything to not have this happen to him, as if he doesn't care at all that he ruined his own life seven years ago.
Fate really plays the long game.
"Ten days," Katsuki repeats, his voice nothing but a horrified whisper and Hitoshi notes with panic that he's tearing up.
"Hey, come on, it's not that bad, alright?" he tries to reassure Katsuki, even though it is exactly that bad and Katsuki shakes his head before he glares at him.
"Confess."
It's not a suggestion; more an order than anything else and Hitoshi huffs out a laugh.
"It's no use."
He's certain of that; he blew it way back when and confessing isn't going to do shit for him now.
Katsuki has moved on—he might not be in a relationship but there's no fucking way he still has any kind of romantic feelings for Hitoshi after all this time and so it's useless.
It's all so goddamn fucking useless. Too little, too late, and Hitoshi wants to go back in time and kick himself so hard some sense drops into his stupidly empty mind, but for all that he has looked for it, he couldn't find a quirk like that and so he's stuck with his feelings and hanahaki and Katsuki's worried gaze.
"What do you mean it's no use? You're a goddamn fucking catch, why are you not even trying?" Katsuki demands to know and it's so ridiculous, so stupid, that Hitoshi can do nothing but laugh.
Him, a catch? Yeah, right.
The thought must have been obvious on his face because Katsuki's face clouds over with his familiar anger and when he speaks there's that almost beloved growl to his voice, too.
"What, you are! Fuck, you're a successful hero, you're so soft on animals and little kids, you love those close to you so fucking fiercely and you're not bad to look at, either. Why are you not even trying?"
Katsuki has walked up to him, hands sparking, as if he wants to physically force Hitoshi to confess his feelings and Hitoshi—
He blames the lack of oxygen on his next words, he blames his impending death, the bottled up feelings, the fucking ache in his chest on what comes out of his mouth next.
"I love you."
A part of Hitoshi wants to fall into panic mode, wants to do damage control, but the bigger part is tired. He's so goddamn tired, and it's not going to change anything and at least like this Katsuki will understand why Hitoshi won't even care for him in ten days anymore.
"Load of good that confession did me, huh?" he bitterly asks when Katsuki continues to stare slack-jawed at him and it's unfair, he's so fucking unfair, because this is on Hitoshi.
Katsuki confessed first and Hitoshi blew him off without a second thought and now he made it sound as if it's Katsuki's fault when it's not.
It's just shitty timing, that's all.
"Sorry," Hitoshi mutters and drags a hand down his face. "I didn't mean—that. I know it's my fault. I'm late with everything, even this and it's—"
"I've loved you all this time," Katsuki interrupts him and it's a very effective way to interrupt Hitoshi.
Because "What the fuck?"
"I confessed to you and you told me you're not in a head space to think about anything like that yet and—"
"You—waited? You thought I was telling you 'not yet' instead of no?" Hitoshi asks, completely horrified, because how could he have blown that so completely? How could he have given Katsuki hope and then leave him hanging for seven goddamn years?
"Not really," Katsuki amends and he shakes his head even as he steps closer to Hitoshi. "I didn't intentionally wait. I just—put those feelings aside and decided to be your fucking friend instead and I thought they would just go on their own, but they never did. I've always loved you."
That confession is enough to bring tears to Hitoshi's eyes and Katsuki takes that moment to bully into Hitoshi's space, to carve out a spot for himself, forcing Hitoshi to part his legs to allow Katsuki closer and then there are lips on his, soft and careful and the best fucking thing Hitoshi has ever felt in his goddamn life and he surges up, desperate for more of that addicting contact and when Katsuki chuckles against his lips, Hitoshi feels like melting.
And when they part he takes his first deep breath in months because evidently Katsuki wasn't lying about still loving him and fuck, Hitoshi is so goddamn stupid.
"You're saying we could have done this all this time?" Hitoshi incredulously asks and Katsuki shrugs before he drops a kiss to Hitoshi's brow.
"Don't know how long you've felt this way, but yeah."
"I thought you moved on! I thought I blew my one chance, that friends was all I could hope for now and even with that I was so goddamn lucky!"
"And you made your stance pretty clear. I thought if you changed your mind at any point, you'd say something," Katsuki gives back and it's so stupid, they are so goddamn stupid and they wasted so much time, except—
Did they really waste it, when their lives are so intrinsically linked already? When they spent more time together than apart these days?
"I love you. I really fucking love you, Kats."
"Like you should," Katsuki almost haughtily gives back but then he softens right up and nuzzles Hitoshi's cheek. "Love you, too. Always have."
And isn't that fucking mind-blowing.
"I have to call my agency," Hitoshi says, right in the middle of a toe-curling kiss and Katsuki moves away from him with the cutest confused expression on his face.
"Why the fuck do you have to call your agency at a time like this?" he demands to know and Hitoshi grins.
"So they don't break and enter here and kidnap me and then perform a surgery against my will on my person," he sums up as he fishes for his phone but Katsuki’s hand covers his and makes him freeze.
"You really would have chosen death over the surgery?"
"I wasn't about to let them take my love for you, romantically or not. You're my best friend, and I wasn't about to lose that," Hitoshi explains and he thinks he'd like to see Katsuki's face go soft like that more often.
Hitoshi barely has time for that thought so, before the soft look morphs with rage and there's the tell-tale sparking of Katsuki's quirk.
"And instead you would have robbed everyone of you? Are you fucking stupid?"
"No, but I hope to be fucking you soon," Hitoshi almost mindlessly gives back and Katsuki's expression goes slack.
"Go fucking die," he eventually mutters and Hitoshi laughs because "Too late. You cured me, no more dying for me."
And again, Katsuki's face does that thing, the thing Hitoshi is going to get addicted to, right before he hides that expression away in Hitoshi's hair.
"And thank fuck for that."
Yeah. Thank fuck and fate and Katsuki's stubborn way to love for that indeed.