Chapter Text
The Days Before
At one point in his life, Katsuki had come to love winter.
When at age 15 he would scowl and shiver at the frigid weather, at age 20 he started to look forward to days filled with white snow. He guesses it’s only natural; when you have someone held so dear that their mere existence curbs most nasty feelings away. When a person is so important to you that your very opinions change, and mold into something completely new.
Back then, a simple smile thrown his way and long fingers coming to wrap a scarf around his neck were enough to fight Japan’s winter chill. He would even dare to work on the country’s coldest night if it meant he would come home to Shouto and his ever-present warmth. But things change. As much as he hates to admit it, he’s no longer 20, and that alone makes Katsuki hate winter all over again. Maybe even more now, if he had to compare. Because now he knows what it’s like to fall in love with something he once thought he hated, only to realize he was bound to change his emotions once again.
It’s actually funny. Laughable even. He never would’ve called himself an easy guy to sway and yet, here he is. Pussyfooting around the idea if he actually hates a season or not. It shouldn’t be that hard. He could walk up to Eijirou right now and yell, “I hate winter!” with all his might, and Ei wouldn’t even blink. But it’s not whether Ei will believe him or not. Katsuki will know the words leaving his mouth aren’t true and that makes it hurt even more.
The fact that it’s been three years and Katsuki still can't admit this season makes him more melancholic than angry. Miserable not because his quirk barely works as it should in the cold climate but anguished because the one person who made everything worth it is no longer by his side.
What a joke.
“Kat?” A voice breaks him out of his overwrought thinking.
“Yeah?” He lifts his gaze from the piles of snow and couples huddling together for warmth to look at Eijirou. Frankly, he doesn’t like the look he’s given in return. “I tuned out your yapping, whaddya want?”
He thinks that might cover up what he was really thinking about.
“I was talking about the Christmas party,” Ei saves him from embarrassment, “the one Mina is throwing?”
So the reason he’s outside today and freezing his ass off while him and Ei search for their secret santa gifts. They don’t even celebrate Christmas. That pink extra just wants a reason to throw a party and get drunk.
“What about it?” Katsuki scoffs and then mutters, “I can’t fucking believe I got roped into this dumbass charade and now I have to buy a gift for that emo extra.”
Seriously, couldn’t he have gotten someone other than Tokoyami for this dumb exchange? What the fuck does one give a bird?
“Yeah…” Ei tapers off carefully and his tone immediately sets Katsuki on edge.
“What the fuck is it? Spit it out already, I’m freezing my nuts off here Shitty Hair.”
“I’m not sure if anyone else told you, but Shouto said he’ll drop by for the party.”
Drop by? Who even says that? Also, who the fuck does Ei think he is, telling Katsuki in slow cadence like he’ll freak out at any moment? He’s a calm and collected individual alright? He’s not some baby deer. And he’s totally fucking fine seeing his ex-boyfriend of three years at some dumbass party.
“Why the fuck would anyone tell me? It’s not my business whether he ‘drops by’ or not,” Katsuki mutters and feels a pang in his chest when Eijirou frowns at his words.
“Okay dude. I just know you’d rather know things ahead. Not get blindsided on the day of and all that.”
It pisses him off that Eijirou’s right. Katsuki does like knowing things ahead. And he’s definitely glad Ei told him this, so he can prepare to look sexy as fuck while also nonchalant when his ex he’s still hopelessly in love with is in the same room as him.
“Whatever. Can we do some actual shopping now? Instead of standing on the sidewalk like fucking idiots.”
Ei spares him any more conversation on this god-awful topic and starts blabbering about gift ideas. He could care less if the yellow extra got a lego set or a onesie for a gift. He needs to plan how the night he sees Shouto for the first time in years will go.
The Joining and the Parting
Katsuki and Shouto got together like any couple did. One day their feelings got too much for either of them to handle, and it burst forward like a dam. It’s only fitting, considering how socially and emotionally inept they both are.
It was nearing the end of third year at UA, and they were inseparable. After everything they went through in first and second year, Katsuki and Shouto discovered they were bonded closer than anyone else. Sure, Deku was closer to them than anyone else in the class, but what Shouto and Katsuki went through together when Deku wasn’t there, that’s what made them understand each other in a different way.
Everyone in UA knew them as a pair, often wondering why one would be without the other when seen alone throughout the campus or in the common areas.
When they were entering finals week and the panic of grades, graduation and adulthood set in, Katsuki found it impossible to concentrate on studying. You would think that he was stressing over wanting to be #1 in the class for the last year in high school, but all he could think of was Shouto instead.
Time was running out and all he could think of was holding Shouto’s hand and cuddling him in his dorm room. When did he become such a sap? They weren't even dating yet for fuck’s sake.
On a random Tuesday night, when algebraic formulas seemed to be printed into his mind’s eye after hours of trying to study, Katsuki slammed his pencil down and decided that he would confess right then.
He stormed his way up to Shouto’s room and knocked on the door loudly, forgetting that it was after midnight and everyone else was likely pulling their hair out from stress.
The door knob turned and soon enough Katsuki found himself breathless at the sight of a rumpled and sleep-deprived Shouto. He was wearing a soft sleepshirt, with a gray cartoon cat he sometimes sent a sticker of to Katsuki in their messages. He guessed it was either the adorable sight that did him in, or someone quirked him with some sort of word vomit curse because nothing else could have explained his speech.
“Go out with me. Fuck– I mean be my boyfriend. But also go out with me. Anywhere you want. It can be a fucking cat cafe if you want to, I just want to be beside you. Like we’ve been doing for the past year. I want to be beside you but I also want you to be mine. In a way no one else can. What do you say, Halfie?”
Shouto stared at him, unblinking, for a full minute. Probably because that’s the most Katsuki had ever talked without stopping. If Katsuki didn’t know any better and was as immature as he was in first year, he would have taken that as a rejection.
But he knew how tired Shouto was. Could tell in the slump of his shoulders, and the fact that his eyes looked like he was staring at a loading screen. He had to say something.
“I’ll say it real fucking simple, Shouto. I like you. I like everything about you, even if most of it pissed me off when I first met you. I want to be beside you even after we graduate, because I think learning how to be a Pro Hero would be real fucking fun at your side. I want to share everything with you. Even if it’s fucking traumatic like everything we’ve been through already. There’s no one else I rather share it with. Do you understand now?”
It was quiet for a beat and then Shouto opened his mouth and murmured, “Yes, I understand now. Of course, I’ll date you. I want to be by your side as well.”
Katsuki thought that was the end of it, until Shouto took a deep breath and said, “But just to be sure, can you ask me and tell me all of this again tomorrow? So I think it’s not a lucid dream or something. And can you– can you say what it is you like about me? It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just– I want to know why.”
“I’ll say whatever you want and whenever you want it, Half-and-Half.”
“Hmm. I liked ‘Shouto’ better. By the way, do you want to come in and take a nap before we continue studying?”
“I’d be fucking stupid to turn down that offer.”
Shouto turned and walked inside his room, and Bakugou followed right behind him. And that was that.
They dated for two years after that. If people thought they were inseparable before, it was nothing compared to what came after.
After graduating, they moved in together at a modest and homey apartment a few minutes away from their agency. It was cozy in a way Shouto never knew it could be. His mix-and-matched personal belongings that he acquired from his years at UA, paired together with Katsuki’s childhood photos and hero merchandise made an interesting sight. The style was an acquired taste but Katsuki insisted it was better than everyone else’s. Only Shouto could decipher that it meant he loved their home just as much as Shouto did.
They settled into a routine, one that had to be learnt through trial and error. After all, they were teenagers and weren't even dating for that long yet. No one advised them about learning how to live in close quarters with someone else, much less your romantic partner of two months.
So yeah, learning how to coexist was a fucking pain in the ass, what with Katsuki’s need for cleanliness and Shouto’s habit of leaving his clothes everywhere. But it was a pain in the ass he could tolerate. He wouldn’t give it up for anything.
Even if they got into petty fights, at the end of the day they reconciled and fell asleep holding each other. Nothing beat the feeling of walking into the apartment after a grueling day and being greeted by a warm embrace or even just the aroma of a home cooked meal in the air.
And that’s how they settled. They got comfortable and learned to live together. They were happy.
Right before their second anniversary rolled around, Shouto was posted on an international mission. In America. Time zones away from Katsuki and everyone he knew. Thousands of miles away from being anywhere close to getting a hug, a kiss, or whispered words of comfort.
Katsuki forced himself to congratulate him. After all, this kind of opportunity and exposure only came once in a lifetime. He thought he would be jealous, envious that Shouto got the gig and not him. But he soon realized not a single ounce in him was angry at anyone, for the first time in his fucking life. Instead, he felt defeated.
Sure, he put on his brave face and counted the days off on his and Shouto’s shared calendar that was hung on their refrigerator. Inwardly, he was dreading to confront the day that Shouto would leave, both Tokyo and Katsuki’s reach.
Shouto seemed reluctantly excited. As if he was eager to travel somewhere new, but scared to do it without Katsuki by his side. Katsuki did his best to encourage and appease him of any worries, while bottling up any of his fears himself. This was about Shouto, and he would never want to make him feel guilty about anything.
Dawn approached on the day of Shouto’s departure and Katsuki, not having slept a wink, stared at Shouto’s back. Shouto had fallen asleep as the little spoon and Katsuki promised himself to not let Shouto out of his embrace until the moment he really needed to.
He held him tightly all night long, wishing to imprint the feel of Shouto’s warmth and scent into his own skin. When the sun began making its way onto their bedsheets and inevitably upon their faces, Shouto started to stir.
He turned in Katsuki’s hold and pressed his face into Katsuki’s chest. “Five more minutes?” he mumbled into bare skin.
“Yeah baby. You can get five more minutes of sleep,” Katsuki said hoarsely and Shouto shifted to look at him in the face.
“What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean what’s wrong?”
“You sound– You sound weird. Did anything happen?”
“Shou what possibly could have happened in the time we went to fucking sleep and now when you woke up?”
“I don’t know. Did you even sleep?”
Fuck Shouto and his observant skills. He just needed to get away with it for a few more hours. He was doing so well. He guesses it being the actual day ruined things for him.
Katsuki stayed quiet until he said, “I wasn’t sleepy. I rested well lying down here with you. Now, let’s go get fucking ready before it gets too late. You know how traffic gets.”
Katsuki shifted and removed his arms from around Shouto, sat upright and turned his back to him. As he made his move to walk away, Shouto grabbed him by the elbow and forced him to look backwards.
“Katsuki… you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” Shouto looked at him carefully, trying to read into his emotions.
“Of course I fucking would. Everything’s alright, princess.”
He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Shouto’s forehead, and then his cheek. He could feel the other’s posture loosen and he knew he relieved him of any upcoming fears. There’s no way he’d make Shouto feel any sadder on the day he had to leave.
They got ready in tandem, like every other day. They brushed their teeth beside each other, and picked out their clothes in silence. While Shouto packed the last of his things, Katsuki distracted himself with cooking a light breakfast.
At 7:00 am on a sunny Friday morning, they both set out of their apartment, suitcases in tow. The walls that once saw them grow and fall deeper in love with each other also oversaw their departure, a sudden quiet filling the empty rooms to the brim. A silence that no one knew would never be filled in the same way again.
Learning how to live without Shouto by his side was harder than Katsuki knew it would be. Like yeah, he knew it’d be fucking painful, but to come back home from the airport to still air and dark corners, it surprised him how final it all felt.
They had spent weeks and even months away from each other here and there, for small missions in neighboring countries. But to know Shouto had an entire full time job for the time being in America, was a different case altogether.
There was no return date to look forward to, as the case was very underground and dangerous. He could stay for years if they needed him. So, in addition to Katsuki’s phantom limb aching, he worried about Shouto’s wellbeing.
Trying to craft a schedule was another matter in itself. Phone calls, texts, and video chats were left unanswered for most of the time being. Shouto was having a hard time with jetlag, and his routine in America had to be learned quickly in order for him to help out in the case.
After a month of back and forth, they decided that video calls would be once a week on Sundays, but everyday they’d have to text at least a little in order to check in on each other.
Everyone told Katsuki that if any couple could survive long distance dating, it’d be them. Why the fuck did they think that? Not one of them even knew how hard it was. Katsuki had never hated his job more than he did then. He was ready to retire and live on a farm somewhere far away from everyone, just him and Shouto.
Sometimes, he wanted to beg Shouto to come back. Even if he didn't mean it. Of course Shouto shouldn't come back, he needed to save lives. They wouldn't have sent him if he didn't need to go.
So, Katsuki kept it all to himself. He never once broke down and called Shouto when times got rough. Shouto had his own shit going on. All he did was make himself enjoy the limited weekly video calls and the daily “I love you” he usually got.
He had one request, when Shouto was about to mark his second month there. He made sure to ask Shouto for a video call on a Wednesday rather than a Sunday, and Shouto agreed, saying that he missed him too much to wait for the Sunday as well.
At 5 pm on Wednesday, when Katsuki usually was on patrol, he instead found himself frantically hooking up his computer to its charger and arranging their dining table to look presentable. He took off the evening, and embarrassingly spent a couple hours choosing his outfit. Yeah, he fucking knows Shouto wouldn't care if he wore a patched up tshirt or even better yet– no clothes, but he had to look good for this call. After all, he planned to propose to Shouto.
Frankly, he was tired of waiting. He knew it would have been better to do it in person, but the way things were going, Shouto would not be back soon. Katsuki had to bite his tongue from saying ‘husband’ instead of 'boyfriend’ because he hated how juvenile the word sounded. They weren't just 'boyfriends,’ they were made for each other.
Katsuki knew it from before they even started dating. He knew he wanted Shouto forever. And while he did say so in his confession, he wanted everyone to know too. He wanted everyone to keep their eyes and hands off of Shouto. He wanted them to also think of Bakugou whenever Shouto’s name was mentioned. Like the pair that they were.
At 5:36pm Katsuki was still waiting. It was fine. He knew how hero work could go, so he wasn’t panicking just yet. He just sat and fiddled with the velvet box in his hands.
At 6:13pm he texted Shouto: “Is everything okay?” and not five minutes later, his response came in.
>Yes, why?
So, he forgot? Katsuki wasn’t about to be discouraged just yet. After all, he knew Shouto could be busy or empty headed at times.
>>What are you doing? Are you running after petty villains right now and have time to text?
>No, I’m at a bar having drinks with a Pro Hero from around the area.
Oh. He guessed that confirmed it.
>Katsuki?
He made plans on their already made plans. Katsuki stopped himself from smiling bitterly. It’s not like he didn’t reference the call many times throughout the week. He knew Shouto could be forgetful. That’s why he made sure to remind him. The last time he reminded him, the day before, Shouto had replied with a thumbs up Pusheen cat sticker. Was he even paying attention?
>Is something wrong, Katsuki?
What could he do? Tell him to go home and call him just to pop the question at him? Katsuki feels even stupider.
He knew they’d been growing distant. He thought it was because of all the hero work Shouto had to do. But getting drinks? If he had the time to meet with some other fucker, he definitely should have had the time to remember Katsuki’s one request.
Katsuki was stupid in thinking a proposal would fix things. He felt like Shouto was rapidly slipping through his fingers, and his first instinct was to grasp as hard as he could. He forgot to think that maybe Shouto was letting himself go in the first place.
Suddenly, he felt so exhausted. The weeks of missing each other, the texts that were far and few in between, and the one sided conversations felt insurmountable. Would Katsuki have to do this for years? The idea suffocated him.
>>Nothing’s the fucking matter. I was just asking.
Katsuki slammed his laptop closed, went to turn off all the lights in the apartment and stomped to their–his–room. The velvet box clutched in his white knuckled grip.
>Okay. Talk to you on Sunday?
The bottle of wine stayed unopened on the table and the candles unlit. The text, unanswered.
At first, Katsuki felt guilty for not answering Shouto. They had promised to always text at least once per day, just to make sure each of them were safe. His pride won over that one, and Katsuki soon realized it was Saturday and they hadn’t even exchanged any messages yet.
It felt worse when he thought of the fact that Shouto didn't even seem to notice. No “good morning Katsuki” or “Was your day okay?” at all. Not even an “I love you.” Yeah, he was a sappy fucker. Sue him if he needed to be reminded that every once in a while.
All this cemented Katsuki’s decision even more. If he was the only one trying, then fuck it. What sense did it make, to try so hard and still come away empty handed?
On Sunday at 6am, his phone lit up beside him, like it did every week at that time. Katsuki hadn't slept a wink, scared of the idea that even that, Shouto would forget.
>Call?
It looked like he’ll get the chance to do it.
>> I’m ready when you are.
After a beat, the phone started ringing, and Katsuki’s apprehension swirled in his gut. He could do this. Sure, he could do it. Then why did he feel like fucking crying?
Swallowing the lump in his throat and forcing his heart to not beat out of his chest, he swiped to answer Shouto’s video call.
The first few seconds were always grainy and pixelated, and this time, it gave Katsuki a moment to steel his resolve. When Shouto’s face came into focus, Katsuki had to look away. There’s no way he could do it now that he was staring into those eyes.
A small smile curled Shouto’s lips and he opened them to say, “Hey, love. How have you been?”
Fucking hell, this would be hard.
“I’m–I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m good, too. Anything interesting happened this week?”
“I uh— No.”
The air stayed stagnant between them, and it seemed Shouto was finally realizing Katsuki’s hidden emotions.
“Is everything okay? You look–”
“Listen. Shouto, I–” Katsuki took a deep breath. He could do it. “I need to tell you something.”
In the small square showing his face, Shouto furrowed his eyebrows, as if sensing the urgency in the other’s voice.
“...Okay. I’m right here if you want to tell me something, Katsuki. Anything.”
But that was just the thing, wasn't it? He wasn’t right there. And that was the entire problem.
But Katsuki couldn't say that. He wasn’t about to pin everything on Shouto either. He was being a fucking coward. He just needed to rip it off like a band-aid.
“I think… fuck. I think we should break up,” the words are said quietly, and Katsuki almost wished the internet connection would fail to travel those words across thousands of miles to Shouto’s ears.
“What?” Katsuki refused to look at the camera, or even at his screen. His gaze was averted and focused on the velvet box on his nightstand. He knew from Shouto’s voice that his face would show his devastation as much as his tone did.
“Katsuki– Katsuki. Can you repeat that? I just– I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
“You did. You did hear me correctly. Do you want me to fucking repeat it?”
“No! I mean– no. I just– what’s even happening right now? Are you trying to pull a joke on me? This isn’t funny. You know I– You know I hate pranks. Just stop.”
The fucking ache in Katsuki’s chest was unbearable. He forced himself to look up, and his resolve crumbled upon gazing at Shouto’s face. There were too many emotions to try and describe. His eyes were filled with despair and his lips quivering. If Katsuk had looked any longer, he’d see how Shouto’s entire frame shook.
There was nothing he could do. It was too late to take it back.
“I’m being serious, Shouto,” Katsuki muttered, bringing down his head again. “I’m fucking sorry but I— I can’t do it anymore. You can call me a fucking coward if you want. Or a liar, or any insult in the dictionary. I just— I want to stop, now.”
“Stop saying that, please. Just tell me what I need to do– or say. I know this isn’t what you want. Did I do something?Where is this all coming from?”
“You didn't do anything, Shouto. I just can’t continue like this anymore. I don’t know when you’ll be back and you don’t know either. I don’t think it’s fair to keep forcing ourselves together anymore.”
“Is that what you were doing? Forcing yourself to be with me? I know I’ve never forced myself with you. But I– I didn't know that’s how you felt. About being with me.”
“I didn’t fucking mean it like that, Shouto. I just can’t do it now. I’m sorry.”
“You said– You said we would be fine,” Shouto’s voice was trembling, and it sounded like he was stumbling through his words. “You said we could overcome anything together. You said it. What about all that ‘being beside you’ talk? Were you just lying to me?”
Katsuki felt like throwing up. He had never hated himself more than in that moment.
“It doesn’t matter if I was lying or not. This– This is what I'm saying now. Let’s just agree to stop here. We’re not happy anymore Shouto.”
“You mean you’re not happy anymore. Is that what you’re saying? I know I am. I’ve always been, when I’m with you.”
“Well, you’re not with me anymore.”
A silence engulfed them, and Katsuki looked to his screen to see if Shouto had hung up on him. Instead, he found Shouto furiously scrubbing his face with his sweater paws, swiping away at tears tumbling over his cheeks.
If he had continued watching for more than a few seconds, he would have started crying himself. He had to end it, or else he would have spilled everything he kept inside for months, from even before Shouto had left. But Shouto was already devastated as it was, and Katsuki wasn’t about to make it any worse.
“I’m sorry, I– I’m really sorry Shouto.”
He took one last look at Shouto's shuddering frame, and ended the call.
It was the last time he spoke to Shouto.
The Day of
Not that he’ll ever admit it in a thousand years but, he’s pretty nervous. Or maybe apprehensive is the exact word he’s looking for. Whatever the case may be, bottomline is that he feels fucking stupid. Like a high schooler going to their first house party and hoping to get their first kiss. He’s not inexperienced by any means–Shouto can attest to that– but… it’s been a while okay? Fucking sue him if thinking of seeing Shouto has heat blooming in his stomach already. He wonders… has Shouto been waiting too? Damn it. He physically shakes his head to ward off any jealous thoughts incoming.
So what if Shouto had someone else after they broke up? Nauseatingly, the idea of Shouto having someone now makes it even worse. Suddenly, going to the party sounds like an incredibly bad idea. But if he bails now, everyone will know why and he’d rather admit to being nervous than admit to being a goddamn coward. It’s just one fucking night. He can stick around for a couple hours, complain about not wanting to stay up too late, and then go back to his empty and cold apartment. It sounds like a fucking solid plan.
He showers with his trademark teakwood and mahogany scented body wash, shaves his face and puts on what Denki would call his “thirst trap” outfit. A maroon button-up with the sleeves rolled up and fitted black slacks. Is he trying too hard? Fucking maybe. Give a man a break. He barely goes out anyway. He can flex his biceps and show off his ass all he wants. After all, he did work hard for it. At the very least, he can at least try to look decent for Mina’s party. No other reason.
He arrives a half hour later than he was told. No way will he arrive on time and look like a desperate fucker. He forgoes knocking on the door and just walks in, another testament to his stupidity. Sometimes he really hates his goddamn pride.
Katsuki barges through the front door and almost crashes into a familiar and broad back. He immediately wants to hurl. It seems they both had the same idea. There was a time he used to like that.
Shouto is standing in the genkan, toeing off a ridiculous pair of dark chelsea boots until he turns to acknowledge the commotion behind him.
Katsuki may be a realistic and practical fucker but… he swears time slowed down a bit when their eyes met. Blue and gray eyes he hasn’t seen in three years. Shouto looks the same. Well–– he looks better but he won’t admit that out loud. Some of the roundness in his cheeks has been lost, which is just a fucking shame really. The cute and adorable Shouto he once knew is gone and replaced by a broader, and slimmer build. Three years really makes a difference huh?
Even his wardrobe seems to have undergone a change. Whenever they went out Shouto would dress in whatever was comfiest, which roughly translated to Katsuki’s clothes matched with cat merchandise. Now though, it’s like he came off a runway. A tan trench coat is hanging off his arm, and a pale blue soft-looking v-neck sweater is hugging his chest. Is he trying to impress someone?
Katsuki has to keep himself from grinning upon looking at his pants though, finding it a couple inches too short for Shouto’s tall frame. Looks like the bastard is still growing. Hopefully at 24 it means he’s stopped, because Katsuki is sure his heart wouldn’t be able to take any more height advantage.
“Ka-Bakugou. Long time no see.” The second sentence said louder than the first, as if to hide his slip-up. Did Shouto still think of him as Katsuki? Well it’s not like he can talk, he’s said Shouto’s name in his head a thousand times this day alone. Fuck, it’s going to be a long night.
“Yeah I guess. Can I come in now or what?”
Shouto seems to shake himself out of a daze and scrambles out of the way. Katsuki has never removed his jacket and shoes quicker in his life. He can feel a certain mismatched stare on him the entire time he does it, and he walks into the apartment faster than need be. He kind of feels bad for ignoring Shouto but he really can’t do this right now. Not as soon as he reaches the party anyway.
He finds Mina in the kitchen and luckily for him, she’s making a new round of drinks. “Hey pinkface. I finally made it. Can I get a fucking drink or what?”
“Katsuki!” she lunges at him and grabs him tight before he pushes her off. “I’m guessing you just greeted our new guest?” She looks at him carefully before pressing a red solo cup in his hands.
“Greeted is too fucking kind of a word. More like bolted in the kitchen as soon as I saw him,” Katsuki sighs into his cup and takes a sip. It’s a little too sweet but he guesses it’ll get the job done.
“Oh sweetie…” Mina pats his arm, “maybe you two can finally talk? I mean, like normal again. It’s been three years, Kats.”
“Who’s fucking counting? Whatever, I’m leaving in an hour. Don’t let me hear you say I didn't warn you,” he mutters and stalks off, ignoring Mina’s complaints behind his back.
He needs to find the best seat in the living room, make it his home for the next hour, and then leave once everyone’s drunk off their ass. That way no one can call him out on it when it happens. Unfortunately, the only one available is between Denki and Hanta, and he’d rather jump off the balcony before he sits anywhere close to them. He doesn’t think he can take any heckling tonight. Fuck. It seems the corner of the room it’ll be.
An hour of small talk with Jirou, Iida and Kirishima later, and Katsuki is ready to go home. He predicted the timeline right, everyone’s getting drunker by the minute and they haven't even opened their secret santa gifts yet. That’s literally all he’s waiting for. To wow everyone with his awesome well-thought out gift and then fuck off.
Surveying the chaos around him, he clears his throat and says, “When are we doing the fucking gifts? Some people actually want to go home, you know. If you guys don’t get it fucking together, I’ll hand out my gift and go fucking home.”
Jirou, the only one who is still by his side and intent on not getting shitfaced, looks at him and raises her eyebrow. He can tell what she’s thinking and he’s not liking it. Although, he’ll fucking admit he appreciates her company right now. He knows she would rather be with Momo on the couch, but she’s been with him ever since he hid in the corner. It seems she and Momo both chose to be with their friends tonight.
On the couch farthest from him, Momo sits delicately, with her knees and face turned towards Shouto, and only him. Out of all the side glances Katsuki has given them, it seems Shouto is more or less engaging. It’s taken a while for Katsuki to really grasp all of Shouto’s mannerisms again, but he thinks he can tell when Shouto is feeling out of place. Being away for two years really fucks you up. Especially a bastard like him.
“I guess if you’re threatening us with the excruciating idea of you leaving, we can do the gifts now Blasty,” Mina comes out of the kitchen with more drinks and darker cheeks.
Her words seem to register within the drunk buffoons, because everyone starts crowding the center of the living room and its makeshift Christmas tree. He will not even dare to call out the hideousness and thoughtlessness that went into sticking the branch of a pine tree unto Mina’s wall. Ugh.
“Okay okay okay! Can I go first? Like–can I give mine and get mine first?” Sparky shouts across the room, barely managing not to slur his words together.
“It doesn't fucking matter. As long as someone gets the ball fucking rolling. Go ahead Sparkplug.”
Kaminari scrambles to where his coat is hanging and pulls a small box out of the pocket. He stumbles to Mina and hands it to her.
As Mina squeals at her new earrings, the order of gift giving gets started. To be fucking fair, Katsuki is not paying a single ounce of attention to anyone’s gifts or giftees. He just wants to give out his own and go the fuck home.
He’s fiddling with his parcel for Tokoyami, trying not to sneak glances at Shouto, when his name is called.
“Your turn, Kacchan!” Deku hollers, his cheeks looking like strawberries with its pink tinge and brown freckles.
“Fucking finally,” he stalks to Tokoyami who was sitting on the arm of the couch, “Here you go or what the fuck ever. Also, Merry Christmas if you believe in that or something. Not that I fucking care.”
Tokoyami murmurs his thanks and opens his gift, bird eyebrows raising as he takes in the renowned poetry book. That’s right. Katsuki’s a fucking great gift giver. No one else can beat his skills.
“Okay, whoever has Bakugou can give him his gift now!” Jirou instructs and Katsuki’s heart falls into his gut when he sees Shouto stand from his spot on the couch and make his way up to him.
Katsuki starts to feel trapped, but he’d look like an outright idiot if he runs away now. Again. Shouto comes to stand in front of him and Katsuki knows everyone is staring in interest. Ugh, he fucking hates his friends. What should he do? Should he make prolonged eye contact, like the way Shouto is trying to do? Should he just grab it and say thanks and leave? What the fuck should he–
“Merry Christmas, Bakugou,” Shouto says quietly and hands him a package wrapped neatly in a bow. He’s sure Shouto always sucked at gift wrapping. Who the fuck helped him?
“Will you open it?” Shouto asks, because it seems all Katsuki can do is stand there and look like a gormless fool.
“Fuck–yeah. Thanks or whatever– I mean thanks.”
Christ, he sounds like an inexperienced teenager wracked by nerves.
He wills his hands to not shake and starts opening his gift. He can feel everyone’s fucking eyes staring at him do it. Did they do this to everyone else too? Whatever. He won’t give them a show.
Underneath the wrapping is smooth material, and Katsuki removes the last of it to see what the gift is. Holy fucking shit. Shouto remembered?
The gloves in his hands are a deep brown leather and Katsuki knows that it’s the best quality because he's the same one who asked for it. Years ago.
When they were 20 and starting to work at the agency, Katsuki would complain day and night about his hands, either when they were cold, or when it was hot and he would sweat too much and stain everything in his sight.
He discovered a clothing brand that specialized in making stain proof gloves, and of course, they were fucking expensive. For two just out of high school kids that didn’t know how to budget yet, there was no way Katsuki ever thought of buying it.
At 24, he can afford these gloves many times over. He could probably get it in every color if he wanted to. He never did though. He just learned to live with his nitroglycerin inevitably staining everything.
He turns the gloves in his hands, gingerly inspecting it, when he sees a flash of orange at the seam. Right at the wrist cuff, he sees in burnt orange, his name monogrammed. Fuck he feels punched in the gut.
Shouto clearly put a lot of thought into this. A lot, considering he remembered something Katsuki asked for ages ago. For fuck’s sake, he can feel his eyes start to burn a little. No fucking way. He needs to clear out of here fast.
“Thanks, for the gift,” he tries saying, but his voice is hoarse and he has to clear his throat to speak clearly. “Merry Christmas to you too, Todoroki.”
He lowers his head and refuses to meet Shouto’s eyes, turning away from him and everyone else. He doesn't even wait for Shouto's response. He acts like he’s going to the kitchen for a drink, and thankfully no one follows him. They all know him well enough to notice how emotional he feels.
This is his time to escape. There’s no way he can survive going back in there. He’ll either burst into tears like a moron or beg Shouto to go home with him.
Luckily for him, he can make his way from the kitchen to the genkan without being spotted by any inquisitive little fuckers.
He’s shoving on his last shoe and making his way out the door when he hears a voice behind him.
“Are you leaving already?”
Shouto stands at the entrance of the genkan, face etched with confusion and some other emotion Katsuki doesn't feel like deciphering just yet.
“Uh– yeah. Fucking tired or whatever. Plus, everyone in there is too drunk for me to tolerate,” Katsuki lamely explains and turns to walk out the door.
He’s made it into the chilly hallway when Shouto’s voice stops him again.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable enough to leave. I didn't want to– I mean, I shouldn't have come. I know this is your space and you weren’t expecting me.”
Shouto is too naïve for his own fucking good. He honestly believes no one had warned Katsuki of his arrival, and believes that all of this is because Katsuki can’t stand to see him.
“My space? It’s Mina’s place, not my space. And you can show up wherever you want to, Todoroki. I’m not some fucking bully that’ll kick you out of a party.”
Why the fuck is he like this?
“That’s not what I meant, Bakugou.” His words this time are firmer; he sounds irritated. Good. At least he’s feeling something now instead of acting shut off. Katsuki can get fucking irritated too. Has been doing it since the day he was born.
“Well, what did you mean then? Fucking enlighten me.”
“Bakugou I–” Shouto looks about to start arguing, when he stops in the middle of his sentence and averts his eyes instead. He takes a deep breath as if to calm himself and says, “I meant, can we just be friends again? I don’t want to avoid you at these types of things. And I don’t want you to avoid me either.”
“Who said I was fucking avoiding you?” Katsuki grumbles, just to be a fucking pain.
Shouto sighs loudly, like his patience is being tested. “Can we or not? I’m not forcing you to do anything with me Ka-Bakugou. I just think that I haven’t been in Tokyo in years and I want to be around my friends and I want that to include you. Is that so hard?”
Fuck this hurts so bad. Is he saying he’ll be around Katsuki constantly now? That he’ll participate in every stupid get together their dumb friends throw? He didn't even used to do that when they were dating. Shouto would stay on the couch and read while Kirishima and Kaminari would whisk Katsuki away for a night. Why is everything fucking changing again?
“Sure, whatever you want,” Katsuki huffs, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had appeared.
“No. It’s not whatever I want. I won’t choose something for both of us. You need to say what you want too. I’m asking you if you want to be friends with me again Bakugou. It’s just a yes or no question,” Shouto looks angry again, and Katsuki is trying to decipher why.
“Fucking—yes. What is this? A fucking interrogation?” Katsuki is so lost right now. He doesn't even know what he agreed to.
Shouto on the other hand, finally looks relieved. “Okay, that’s all you needed to say,” he nods and turns to head back into the apartment.
“Wait Sho-Todoroki,” damn now he is fumbling names too. Fucking hell.
Shouto turns his head and waits.
“I– nevermind. Just, thanks for the gift again,” he says awkwardly.
“I’ll see you around, Bakugou,” Shouto gives him a final nod and closes the door behind him.
What the fuck does that mean?
The Days After
Things really do change after that. It seems Shouto wasn’t just saying he wants to be friends again for the sake of it. He’s actively trying. Even more than he did when they were teenagers. Which is oddly fucking terrifying. He forgot how persistent Shouto can be. Now, with some years of experience under his belt, he’s impossible to say no to. Not that Katsuki ever wanted to say no to him anyway. Shouto once used to take advantage of that, but it seems he’s testing the waters now.
Now that Shouto’s moved back to Tokyo, Katsuki sees him everywhere. And all the goddamn time. He’s pretty sure there’s no real reason Shouto needs to visit Best Jeanist’s agency so goddamn much. And he’s definitely sure Shouto doesn’t need to pass by his office every time he visits either. He even stops to make small talk about the weather, or cats or fucking Deku. No one ever has small talk with Katsuki. They know he’d blast them to hell if they even tried. Especially if they mention that green extra’s name. The fact that Shouto blatantly does it is maddening.
The implications are concerning, if not terrifying. Yet Katsuki refuses to entertain wishful thinking. Maybe this just means being friends with someone as an adult. Not that he’d know.
He slowly adjusts to the onslaught of Shouto sightings and conversations until he realizes that rather than building a friendship, he’s feeling all the emotions of when he was a teenager brought up again. And wow– who would’ve guessed? He feels like he’s getting fucking stupider as the years go by. Maybe it’s just a side effect of being in love with Shouto. Maybe he’s always been like this, since he met Shouto.
Katsuki’s standing on a street corner signing some stupid kid’s notebook when Shouto materializes out of nowhere. Katsuki hands the kid his book and turns around, only to be met with Shouto’s blank face.
“What the fuck?!” Katsuki sputters before he realizes who’s here, and what that means. Shouto is staring at him, quiet like a fucking weirdo. His hair looks adorably ruffled, and he’s wearing a long wool coat over his casual clothes.
Katsuki hates him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” It seems Katsuki has to ask, or else Shouto might just stare at his face until one of them collapses from hypothermia. Probably Katsuki.
“Ah. I didn't mean to startle you,” he shakes his head a little as if to bring himself back to the present, “I know your shift just ended. Should we go get soba at that place a few blocks away?”
Fuck this empty-headed beanpole.
“You didn’t startle me idiot. And no the fuck we shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” Shouto tilts his head questioningly.
“Maybe because half of your fucking meals consist of soba? And I am not going to indulge you. I want a good, warm, home-cooked meal. It’s been a cold shitty day. Maybe you don’t know that because you're a walking a/c unit, dumbass.”
“I haven’t eaten soba in… a long time,” the words are said quietly, with an undercurrent of wistfulness in his tone.
“What? Did some villain hit you with a quirk that renders you incapable of eating your favorite fucking meal?”
“Hmmm. No. Nothing that interesting happened. I can tell you the reason over a bowl of soba though.” Shouto had always teased Katsuki’s guilty indulgence for gossip. And he always played it to his advantage too.
“Fucking fine. We’ll go but you’re paying.”
They find a hole in the wall izakaya, and both of them squeeze into a booth and face each other. When they were dating, Shouto preferred sitting next to him, pressing himself to Katsuki’s side, and maybe even holding his hand if he felt particularly clingy that day. He always said he preferred physical contact, and Katsuki indulged him.
Now though, he sits across Katsuki and the way they stare at each other has Katsuki feeling fucking flustered of all things. Maybe having a full on conversation and staring into Shouto’s eyes is not what he needs right now. He’s feeling particularly vulnerable because of the weather, mind you.
The waiter comes to their table and Katsuki is relieved their weird staring contest gets broken.
“I’ll get the nabe,” Katsuki mutters and Shouto says kindly, “And I’ll get zaru soba, please.”
They're soon left alone again and this time the tension feels stifling. This is the first time they’re really having alone time together since who knows when. Those little stop by office chats were nothing but idle chatter. Being in an enclosed space with Shouto again is terrifying.
“So, will you tell me why you haven't eaten soba is a long time or was that just a fucking trick to get me here?” Katsuki tries breaking the silence with a half-hearted joke.
“I will, I just– I’m not sure if you want to have that conversation, right now at least.”
What the hell?
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I mean about when we broke up, Katsuki.”
Oh fuck. He’s sure some sort of emotion made its appearance across his face, because Shouto’s eyes carefully inspects him and doesn't dare look away. Why is eye contact so goddamn hard?
“Oh so it’s Katsuki now, isn’t it?”
“Why do you do this every time I want to have a serious conversation?”
“I don't know what you’re fucking talking about. Let’s just eat and leave, okay?”
“No.”
“No? What the fuck? Are you just going to keep me captive in this claustrophobic ass izakaya?”
“Katsuki, just stop. I want you to tell me what happened. What really happened when you broke up with me,” Shouto brings down his gaze and wrings his palms. He’s just as anxious too.
“I did tell you.”
“No, you didn't. I know you’re hiding something. I just don’t know what it is. Was it work? Was it me? Did you just not love me anymore? You could have told me. It– It would have hurt, but it’s better than wondering about it for years, not knowing what went wrong.”
“Jesus Christ, Shouto. Just– Just stop okay? It’s not any of those things.”
“Then why? Why did you leave me?”
“Excuse me.”
As if this couldn't get any worse. Katsuki’s pretty sure their waitress just heard all the gossip about Japan’s top five pro hero’s relationship.
The girl sets their respective meals in front of them and then bows and leaves. The air is tense. It stays quiet for a few minutes, with them just staring at their meals. Shouto is the first to look up and to break the silence.
“You know, I can’t eat soba anymore because of you.”
“Huh?”
“When I moved away, I– I looked for it everywhere. Of course I did. You know how much I loved it. I really wanted to taste something that reminded me of home. I spent my first few weeks searching and searching,” Shouto gazes down at his bowl of noodles and then looks away. “None of them I found ever tasted how I wanted them to. Some of them even tasted like ones I’ve had here before. I quickly realized I was just looking for them to taste like how you used to make it for me.”
What a conversation starter. Fucking hell.
“One day, I found this kind Japanese immigrant, an old lady who was cooking at her small restaurant for years,” Shouto continues his longest fucking speech in his life.
“She liked me, and I shared with her my quest for this special soba,” he smiles sadly. “Every time I talked about it and how I remembered it tasting, she’d listen and nod along. Then one day I visited for lunch and I saw she had a bowl ready for me. I didn’t even have to taste it for me to know it was just like how you made it. I was so happy, I wanted to tell you immediately. Then I remembered you had broken up with me a few days before.”
How is he supposed to eat now? Katsuki’s sure not one bite of food will make it past the lump in his throat. There’s nothing he can even say at this point. He’s an asshole through and through.
He pushes his plate away, and a bit of the broth sloshes over. Shouto startles, and stares at him. Fine, if Shouto wants to have this conversation now, they will. He’ll lay out every single thing hidden deep inside his psyche right now in this grimy place.
“Shouto. I’m going to say what I need to say and you won’t interrupt me, okay? Just fucking listen. I don’t care if you don’t like what I say, or if you don’t believe it. I don’t have any fucking reason to lie to you and I never will.”
“Okay.”
“I was going to propose to you.”
Fuck, where was he going with this? He probably shouldn't have started with that. He pauses, and his heart kicks into overdrive. There’s no going back now.
“I had the ring with me and everything. It just was so, so fucking hard with you living over there. I know I’m a dipshit for saying that, I know. We were only together for two months while you were there. But it felt like years. I want to blame my insecurities or pride, but I think at the end of the day, it just wouldn't work out.”
“Why not,” the question comes quickly and desperately. “Why wouldn't it work out? You always said we could do everything together. What changed?”
He really wishes they weren’t having this conversation. Katsuki hates having his words thrown back at him. If there’s anything he despises, it’s realizing that what he once thought was true, crumbled at the slightest hitch.
“Shouto. We were 20 fucking years old. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing now at 24, much less way back then. I’m not gonna say I regret getting together with you in high school, because that was probably one of my best decisions in life. I just–”
Katsuki lets out a deep sigh, and with it comes out all the longing, pain and hurt festering for years within. At least he feels a little better after saying all this shit. He never knew how much weight that had on his shoulders.
“I just don’t think we were able to handle it. I’m not gonna sit here and fucking blame you, but when you moved there, a lot changed. We barely even talked, and I scrambled for any way of us staying together. When you missed that last call for some random meetup instead, I just realized I couldn't anymore.”
“You’re saying… you chose to break up with me because I forgot about a video call? When you were about to propose on that same call? Why were there only two options? I don’t understand.”
“It was our anniversary! What the fuck else was I supposed to feel Shouto? I wasn’t about to beg you to call me on a day we both should remember.”
The space between becomes flat and silent, and Katsuki has the distinct feeling that they’re not on the same page. About anything. Katsuki finally musters up the courage to look Shouto in the eyes, and is met with a pained expression.
Several emotions cross Shouto’s soft features: regret, confusion, and lastly, sadness.
“Katsuki I– I didn't know. You know sometimes I just get lost. I– Especially in that place and at that time. You could have just told me. Why didn't you?”
“I was tired of telling you Shouto. I couldn’t be in a relationship where I had to do all the fucking legwork. It made me feel– I felt lonely okay? Even with you, I felt so fucking lonely.”
That seems to be the final breath he exhales, and with it the conversation seems to have met its end.
Or so Katsuki thought.
“Does this mean… that we can’t ever be together again?” The words are said tentatively, contrasted with Shouto’s searching gaze.
“Shouto, I—,” he honestly doesn’t know what to say.
The thought of never being with Shouto again does something indescribable to his head, fucks up his heart even more.
Not waking up every morning and watching Shouto’s soft face come alive under a golden streak of sunlight? Unimaginable. Not cooking soba for him at breakfast, lunch and dinner and missing the way his eyes light up at the taste? It makes him want to curl up and cry for fuck’s sake. But that’s not even the worst of it.
Knowing that they didn’t work out, and Shouto finding someone else he does work out with, the idea sends him into a panic.
He knows Shouto’s persistence as staying friends will never waver. The fact that Katsuki has to pretend to be his friend while he goes on and becomes happy with someone else kills him inside.
But, he’s also scared. Fucking terrified actually. If they get back together and somehow break up again, Katsuki doesn’t think he’s strong enough to handle it. Not this time.
“I’m sorry, Katsuki,” Shouto interrupts his thinking. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I’m also sorry that I made you feel that way when I went abroad. I didn’t know. I mean, of course I didn’t. If I did, I would have done anything to make it better. I feel so stupid now.”
“Shouto… it’s okay,” Katsuki’s not sure what to say to make him believe it isn’t his fault. They were just kids.
“It’s not though. It’s not okay. I went away, and I neglected the person that matters the most to me. I just,” there’s a pause and then a sigh, “It’s better I just stop here. I’m making it worse. I’m sorry I ruined your dinner.”
Both of them stare solemnly at their plates, appetite long forgotten and past wounds reopened.
“Fuck this. Let’s go for a walk,” Katsuki pushes himself away from the table and takes out his wallet, leaving more than enough bills to cover their abandoned meals.
He walks away and hears Shouto scramble to follow. They both walk back out into the biting winter chill and encounter flurries of snow falling around them.
“Where are we walking to?” Shouto asks.
“My place. I’m hungry for something only I can make. You’re welcome for some too, I guess,” he grumbles.
Shouto nods and looks like he wants to say something, but refrains from doing so. If Katsuki were to be honest right now, he’d admit that he’s just utilizing this walk to clear his head. He’s also using it to try and come up with the next course of action.
He doesn’t know what the fuck to do. He’s 24 years old and feels just as lost as when he was 15. He’s an adult now, he needs to decide on something that will benefit everyone, not just his selfish wants.
He wants Shouto. Actually, he might even fucking need him. Sure, being without him for three years was livable, but that doesn’t mean it was fucking pleasant. Far from it. Now that he has the opportunity to choose…
He hates that he’s so selfish, but he can’t help it when it comes to Shouto. If Shouto is offering himself up again, he’d be fucking stupid to reject him. Especially considering he’s still fucking in love with him. Fuck, why are the only two choices to be with Shouto or be without? Isn’t there like some other third thing that works out in both of their favors?
Katsuki doesn’t realize he’s been quiet and brooding until halfway through their walk. He glances to his side and sees Shouto gazing at the park and its leaf-barren trees with little worry on his face. He really wishes he knew what he was thinking. Fuck.
He realizes with a start that he’s not even feeling cold, Shouto’s warm side doing its best to keep him cozy. It’s this, that makes him just throw everything else out the fucking window. Fuck everyone else. Fuck it if there’s someone else in the world that can work out with Shouto in the future. Katsuki can work out with him now and they can figure it out.
If they really try their best and not act like fucking morons this time, who’s to say they’ll ever break up?. Isn’t there some sappy fucker always saying how love is the one thing you need in a relationship? Obviously, Katsuki doesn’t believe that shit but just for a moment, he can let himself take this one thing he wants. The one person he needs. He can’t imagine himself in the future without Shouto being by his side. That’s all there is to it.
They both reach the swiveling doors that take them into Katsuki’s apartment complex and they both pause at the same time. Katsuki takes a huge breath and swings around to stare at Shouto fiercely.
“I’m going to cook soba. This can be one final meal shared between us or… the start of a lot of meals. I’m giving you the choice Shouto. It wasn’t fair for me to end things without your say. I’m letting you decide now. I know I don’t deserve a second chance. I don’t. I’m just letting you know ahead that if you don’t want to, I can’t just be your friend. I’m sorry. I just— I love you too much for that. I don’t want to sound like a manipulative son of a bitch, I’m being serious. It’s all or nothing.”
Shouto stares back at him, not breaking their eye contact but seemingly unable to comprehend his speech. Katsuki looks away and lets out a breath. He turns and starts walking into his building, he’ll know Shouto’s choice when he feels it. Or rather, doesn’t feel it.
The sensation of a warm palm sliding into his own stops him, and his heart skips a beat. Another hand comes to carefully cup his jaw, and his face is turned towards Shouto.
“I missed you Katsuki,” the words are said shakily and shiny heterochromatic eyes are the last thing he sees before his eyelids close shut when a pair of soft lips touch his.
Fuck, he doesn’t know how he survived so long without this. It’s like his heart and senses are kicking into overdrive, and his hands immediately go to cup Shouto’s soft cheeks. Oh, how he missed holding his entire world in the palm of his hands.
They can’t stop kissing each other. As they part from one kiss, another begins and so they kiss and kiss, holding each other so tenderly like two lovestruck fools. Well, he guesses they both are.
Katsuki couldn’t give a fuck right now if someone was watching, fan or paparazzi alike. It’s his first time kissing Shouto after years. It’s like something was awoken in him.
Katsuki licks into Shouto’s mouth and when he hears a soft whimper from the other man, he’s slowly brought back into reality. The way things are going, they need to get into his apartment. Fucking stat.
Forlornly, he pulls apart and Shouto mindlessly chases his lips, still lost in their embrace. Katsuki holds him steady and chuckles into their little pocket of peace.
“Hey,” he whispers, lips brushing cherry pink ones.
Shouto flutters his eyes open and stares at him, gaze oozing adoration and contentment. He looks like a fucking sated cat.
“Hm?” He hums, until he finally begins to remember where they are.
“How about we move this upstairs, princess? I’d love to get reacquainted somewhere ah— more appropriate,” he grins and slowly brings his gaze down to look at Shouto’s kiss-bitten lips.
Shouto cheeks dust lightly pink and he seems to melt further in his arms.
“Lead the way,” he whispers.
As they cross the apartment threshold and fall into soft sheets together, it was like nothing ever changed. Just as easily as they got together and broke apart, they found their way back to each other again. This time, Katsuki promises to never let go.