Chapter Text
Eijirou grit his teeth as he watched the scene from his nightmares unfold from his front porch. He’d moved to this apartment to stay away from this. Four years ago he’d specifically picked this apartment to be as far away from /him/ as he could.
And now, here he was.
Katsuki Bakugou, his ex boyfriend from four years ago stomping his way through the halls of the apartment complex, tossing duffel bags against the door directly across from Eijirou’s.
Back and forth, back and forth. He brought bag after bag, filled until the seams looked like they might just burst.
Eijirou scowled at the implication. He grumbled at the fact that Katsuki hadn’t even seen him, or perhaps was ignoring him, where he sat on his gated patio.
They went to shit when they turned twenty. Katsuki had gotten a job at a high paced company, and he quickly climbed the rankings.
It made him busy. Busy enough to forget about his boyfriend of three years, Eijirou. He worked and worked, practically acting like he lived alone. It was a constant cycle of waking up, going to work, coming home, going to bed, and repeating it day after day.
So of course, Eijirou left. He packed his shit, and moved out. After weeks of feeling like he meant absolutely nothing to Katsuki, he put his foot down and broke up with him.
And instead of reflecting on it, Katsuki decided he’d move out to the city Eijirou had always dreamed of moving to. The city he talked about over and over when they were in a relationship.
Eijirou had dreamed of moving out to the city, of leaving this boring town and starting up a new bakery out there. He wanted a bakery in a busy town with fun people and eccentric atmospheres. He wanted to create crazy flavors and intricate recipes for people in the city to enjoy. Eijirou wanted to be /something/.
He’d wanted it more than anything. He craved it, and Katsuki knew that.
And when they broke up, Katsuki took that dream away. As if it was some sort of punishment, Katsuki moved out to the damn city and continued to work. He worked and worked and ignored the town he came from. Ignored the fact that he was dumped. He acted like the break up meant nothing.
Eijirou didn’t hear from him at all. All the information he’d gotten came from friends of friends, and apparently Katsuki was doing just fine. He spent the hours he should’ve been sleeping, at clubs or bars drinking himself away, and sleeping with random people.
It was obvious he wanted to get away from Eijirou.
And he hated him for that.
“Did the bars finally ban you?” He felt himself say bitterly.
Maybe he’s petty, maybe he’s being a bit of an ass, but he can’t help it. He’d given Katsuki all of him. He’d loved that man more than the earth loved the sun, and Katsuki tore it all apart. He got bored of Eijirou and waited for him to leave, then ran off to the city to live a life of alcohol and sex and god knows what else.
Katsuki rolled his eyes and he carried his third duffle back through the concrete halls of the apartment complex and then dropped it on the floor.
“Very funny.”
His voice was different. He was different.
His once flashy vibrato was replaced by the low, calm voice of a twenty four year old adult. His shoulders were broad, his body lean. His face had slimmed down as his baby fat turned to chiseled features.
Eijirou hated that he noticed. He hated that Katsuki was completely ignorant to him as he stood right there.
“Or maybe you’ve officially fucked every guy in the city?” He joked.
Eijirou’s hands weren’t clean in this area either, but it had taken time. While he processed the break up and tried his best to make peace with the fact that Katsuki had grown bored of him, Katsuki was out fucking whoever he could get his hands on.
The blonde scoffed, “Yep. You’re exactly right.”
Why wasn’t he angry? Why hadn’t he exploded at the other man? Embarrassingly, Eijirou wanted to get under his skin.
He wanted something, anything. Subconsciously he knew it was because he wanted some proof, some acknowledgement that Eijirou could still pull an emotion from the other man.
But again he just got nothing. Just a vacant bored response. It hurt, even if it was four years later. It hurt that he still didn’t matter, that Katsuki was still bored of him.
Eijirou shrugged his shoulders. “I must be if you’re gracing this side of town with your presence.”
At that, Katsuki glared at him, raising a brow from where he stood in front of the apartment across from Eijirou.
“You done yet?”
Fuck, Eijirou hated him. He hated him so much.
No, of course he wasn’t. In fact he had about four years worth of pent up rage for the other man in front of him.
They used to date. Four years ago.
But it was more than that. It used to be everything.
They met when they were eighteen and fell in love immediately. They’d moved in together, shared every holiday together, made love together, and all of the sweet little nothings in between. For three years the man in front of him held his heart. From the ages of eighteen to twenty Eijirou had truly thought he’d met the one.
Until Katsuki tore everything apart.
“Why’re you back?” He rolled his eyes.
He’d seen the other man here and there over the past four years of separation. While Katsuki had gone to the city over an hour and a half away, his family was still here. His mother lived just down the road, and just last year his older sister happened to move into the same complex as Eijirou.
Unfortunately for Eijirou, he’d seen his ex’s face more times than he’d liked. Especially these past two weeks. He’d been in and out of his sister's apartment. Moving stuff, taking her daughter out places, coming and going and being a pain in the ass.
Katsuki sighed before shooting Eijirou an intense glare.
“Emiko is dead.”
At that, Eijirou felt his body tense and his stock pile of witty insults dried up on his tongue.
“Holy shit,” he breathed out, giving the other man an apologetic look.
Of course, the other man avoided his gaze. He tended to do that when things were too much. He’d look away, pretend it wasn’t happening, pretend it wasn’t affecting him. The other man hadn’t changed much in the four years they’d been apart.
“Katsuki,” he furrowed his brows, schooling his face into something much more serious.
Because he wasn’t a monster. He couldn’t stand Katsuki for what he’d done to them when they were twenty years old, he resented him for the break up.
But he wouldn’t pester the other man when his sister just died. From what he remembered, Emiko was everything to Katsuki. She was Katsuki’s favorite person, his very best friend. The one person he came to when he was upset or hurting. Possibly the only other person who knew Katsuki as well as Eijirou had at one point.
“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He asked gently.
Katsuki scoffed, shooting him a look that could kill.
“Well my sister’s dead, I'm the legal guardian of her only child, and I’m staring at my ex who left me after three years.”
Eijirou reeled back as the other man spit venom. He was angry, and bitter, just as much as Eijirou from the sounds of it. Only, Katsuki’s bitterness was laced with something else. Something so much more painful. Something Eijirou wouldn’t have wished on Katsuki in a million years.
Grief.
“I’d say shits been better,” the blonde said through gritted teeth before he turned to unlock his sister’s front door and shove his duffle bags inside.
Then he slammed the door shut, leaving Eijirou alone in the hallway, feeling like a total jerk.
—
It was a moment of weakness. A split second decision to try and be snippy, petty, and perhaps a bit of an asshole to the guy that broke his heart four years ago.
Denki did it all the time, Mina excelled in bickering back and forth with people, Sero could practically argue with a wall.
But Eijirou had never exactly been good at being mean.
He’d thought it would empower him. Thought that maybe he’d succeed in making the other man feel an ounce of guilt for what happened between them.
But instead, Eijirou just felt like a total ass. A grade A bully. A bad person.
And that’s not who he was.
With an awkward knock, he stood in front of what used to be Emiko Bakugou’s apartment door. His hands were full of take out from the diner down the road. A hopeful apology to Bakugou for screwing with him when his sister had just died.
His insides felt scrambled at the thought.
He couldn’t stand Katsuki. Could stand to look at the man who’d stolen his city, and his dream. Eijirou hated that Katsuki was out in the city, living the dream while he was stuck in his own past, glued here in order to stay away from the other man who’d claimed his dream life.
The door opened slowly.
“Why’re you here,” Katsuki asked.
He was still taller than Eijirou. Only about an inch or two, but it still mattered to him. It was one of the only parts of Katsuki he still recognized. He’d grown into a man, a full adult, a person Eijirou couldn’t recognize anymore.
Eijirou rolled his eyes at the other man’s rude greeting, “A simple hello would’ve sufficed.”
But then he remembered, Emiko is dead. He pursed his lips as he looked up at the other man’s tired face. His eyes were puffy, nose a soft red from crying, face tired and pained.
He was hurting. Quietly, silently, like he always did. Eijirou half wondered if he was letting his parents help him through this.
When they were together, Katsuki tried to do everything on his own.
“I brought food,” Eijirou said suddenly. The last thing he needed to do right now was think about how things used to be. There was no sense reliving the past. Even though it haunted him.
“Figured you guys wouldn’t be cooking right now. You usually didn’t when you were sad.”
He can hear a little girl babbling in the background, but she doesn’t come out to say hello. Katsuki was probably shielding her from Eijirou. He probably didn’t want her wasting her time on Eijirou.
They’d never met. By the time the little girl was born, Katsuki and him had already been broken up for two years and had painfully moved on to other things. But he knew she existed through the grapevine of their friends. He knew she was an adorable little thing, with a personality that shined almost as bright as Katsuki’s.
He knew Katsuki adored her, and helped Emiko care for her because the girl's father wanted absolutely nothing to do with them.
The blonde stared down at the bags of warm food before taking them out of Eijirou’s hands.
“Thank you.”
It was awkward, stubborn almost, like it was uncomfortable to thank Eijirou, like it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.
Eijirou nodded his head, standing awkwardly at the door.
There’s an apology on his tongue. An apology for being so harsh yesterday. For poking at Katsuki when he was probably weak and vulnerable. A sorry for Emiko passing away.
But the word wouldn't come out.
He hated Katsuki. Hated that he wasn’t good enough, hated that Katsuki didn’t have the guts to leave him and instead ignored him, hated that he became something the other man didn’t want, hated that he was drinking and sleeping around and changing into someone he didn’t used to be.
And apologizing felt like losing this war they’d waged. Apologizing for anything at all felt like admitting that he wasn’t good enough. That Katsuki was right.
When a beat of silence passed, Katsuki shrugged his shoulders and raised a harsh brow.
“You can leave now.”
It was so fucking rude. Like a smack to the face. He'd forgotten what it was like to not be the soft spot for the other man. To not be the only person Katsuki was soft for.
He supposed that he forgot that Katsuki hated him just as much as he hated Katsuki.
Eijirou wasn’t sure why that realization still made him feel sick.
Probably because he never wanted Katsuki to stop loving him. If he’d had it his way, Katsuki wouldn’t have gotten bored. He wouldn’t have lost interest in their relationship.
He wouldn’t have made Eijirou leave.
But that’s not what happened.
Eijirou bit the sides of his mouth, careful with it as he reminded himself that the other man is going through an unimaginable pain, and him arguing wouldn’t make it any better.
There’s so much left unsaid between them, so much resentment, so much hatred, so much anger. But now isn’t the time. Maybe there would never be a time. Maybe they weren’t meant to ever be in each other's lives again, no matter how badly that hurt Eijirou.
So after giving the other man a silent nod, he spun on his heel and walked back to his own apartment. Leaving what used to be half of himself in the hallway, and hoping to whatever god was above that he’d be leaving soon so Eijirou could get on with his own life.
—
Days passed in a blur of awkward tension and quiet hallways until well over a week had passed.
Eijirou had begun to memorize the other man’s schedule and avoided leaving or returning to his apartment when Katsuki was doing the same.
Call it what you will, maybe petty or pathetic, but Eijirou sees it as rather stealthy and strategic of him.
He gets up with the sun as he usually does, and heads to the bakery. It’s in a quiet area, where not many people pass by to notice him, but he still gets there early for the elderly couple who get breakfast there every morning. Getting there early also gives him the bonus of not having to see his ex boyfriend leave for the job that tore them apart.
He made sure not to get home until well after evening had passed and instead spent his time planning, baking, strategizing his next pastry or prepping for the next day.
In doing so he usually missed the blonde as he returned home.
Usually.
But today Eijirou severely miscalculated the fact that Katsuki didn’t work on Sunday.
Eijirou had been carrying way too many bags of groceries as he tried to make his trek from his car to the apartment in one trip. He’d almost been successful, had it not been for the apples at the very top of his bag.
They rolled off the top, falling to the floor, rolling in different directions. Soon the bacon followed, and then the flour, and the new face wash and moisturizer he’d been wanting to try.
“Need help?” A voice called from behind him.
He turned at the familiar voice, until he came face to face with the one person he was trying to avoid.
Katsuki stood in front of him, holding a little girl in her arms. She stared with big, scarlet eyes that were almost identical to Katsuki’s.
“You’re holding a baby,” Eijirou shook his head as he tried to bend down and grab at his fallen groceries.
Katsuki crouched down to the floor with him, holding the little girl easily in his arms as he picked up a few of the apples that had rolled his way.
“She’s tough. We can handle it, right?” The blonde smiled at the little girl.
It was a smile Eijirou hadn’t seen in a long time. One that Katsuki had truly only saved for the people who deserved to see it. It was soft, open, tender. The type of things people saw once and craved again and again.
Eijirou averted his gaze immediately, staring at the girl in his arms instead. He wasn’t ready to see that face again. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to see a face that no longer belonged to him.
The little girl smiled big, happy, a bit goofy before nodding her head, “Yeah!”
They collected the fallen groceries in a silence full of so much tension Eijirou could practically feel it against his skin.
For four years he’s had so much to say, so many things built up and held in, so many things he’d picked apart and put back together in the off chance that he ever saw Katsuki again.
And now that he's here, Eijirou can’t find it in him to get the words out.
He could lie and say it was because the other man had just lost his sister and he wanted to take it easy on him.
But it’s so much more than that.
He missed Katsuki. He hated the other man for moving out to that city, for moving on and taking his dream with him. But Eijirou hated himself even more for still caring about the other man. For even letting himself miss the guy that broke his heart four goddamn years ago.
“Thanks,” eijirou nodded as they both straightened.
They stood awkwardly in the hallway, scarlet on ruby for the first time in a long time. It looked like Katsuki had something he wanted to say too, but he stayed silent.
“What’s her name?” Eijirou asked, motioning towards the little girl.
“Natsumi,” was the little girl's response. Bold, sharp for a two year old, like she was offended he’d asked Katsuki instead of herself.
The two exchanged a look of raised brows before chuckling softly.
“Very pretty,” eijirou complimented the little girl.
She smiled brightly, chubby cheeks and freckled skin. Long blonde hair and sharp red eyes. She was truly adorable. A perfect miniature version of Emiko.
“She looks just like Emiko,” Eijirou smiled back at Katsuki. “A bit like you too.”
And at that, Katsuki seemed to react poorly. Like maybe even the slightest mention of his sister brought in an onslaught of emotion he wasn’t quite ready to register. The blonde averted his gaze from Eijirou quickly, adjusting the little girl on his hip as he cleared his throat.
“Well here’s your shit. See you later, Red,” Katsuki nodded, motioning towards the full back of groceries before he was turning around quickly and exiting the apartment complex.
—
Katsuki should’ve known from the minute they told him Natsumi was designated to be in his care from here on out that it wouldn’t be easy. He hadn’t necessarily thought it would be simple, but gods Natsumi was smart for her age and stubborn as hell.
Despite the lack of sleep, which is a given response to losing her mother and childhood grief, she is a good kid. Smart, silly, a bit mischievous.
But it’s a lot. Any child is a lot, but it’s especially difficult to care for a child he hadn’t expected to be given. Emiko never told him he’d be the primary care giver if she passed.
Honestly he never expected Emiko to pass at all. Katsuki had always thought with his shitty lifestyle he’d end up going first.
However, drunk drivers don’t ask which sibling to take out when they get in the fucking car. Drunk drivers don’t give a shit about anyone other than themselves. That’s why Emiko was dead. That’s why she never arrived at that daycare that night to pick up Natsumi.
That’s why Katsuki was her new parent.
And gods was he bad at it.
He chased that two year old down the empty town’s sidewalk, dodging a few people here and there and a couple advertisement signs as his toddler trotted in no particular direction.
She was curious, and wanted to be independent. Emiko had always loved that about her, and Katsuki tried his best to hold the same love.
But he was tired, and all he wanted to do was go home, cook them dinner and try to get the little girl to sleep for more than four hours through the night.
Instead, he followed her through a shop door he knew all too well, cursing at his luck.
“Natsumi, no,” he hissed out, trying and failing to stop the little girl from entering Eijirou goddamn Kirishima’s bakery.
Of course, the one person in the world he’d rather die than see stood at the entrance, long red hair tied back in a bun, apron tight around his waist, eyes wide and friends and killing Katsuki all at once.
They made eye contact— vibrant rubies in a dim, barely alive scarlet— before Katsuki was breaking it and grabbing his daughter’s arm.
Her little finger prints left blotches on the window to the pastries on display and Katsuki tried his best to swipe them away with his finger.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Eijirou shook his head.
He didn’t necessarily look angry to see Katsuki, but he wouldn’t say the redhead was ecstatic.
If Katsuki wasn’t so fuckign tired, he might pretend to be a little more angry at the man in front of him. That’s what he’s been doing anyway. Putting up a facade of anger and hatred to hide the horrible hurt that overtook him every time he saw his ex lover.
Eijirou had been his everything, and when he left, he stole a little fragment of Katsuki’s peace that never truly returned, no matter how much he drank or how many people he slept with to forget.
“Hi little one,” the redhead smiled softly as he opened the counter top to greet his daughter.
His voice was like silk, a sharp contrast to Katsuki's own gruff, tired, defeated voice.
Eijirou had changed a lot. Katsuki had hardly even recognized him when he moved back. He was pretty. Prettier than the day he left Katsuki. He’d grown into a man who’d experienced a life Katsuki hadn’t gotten to see, a life that was surely better since leaving Katsuki.
“Say hi, Natsu,” he croaked. “You ran into his store, be respectful.”
Natsumi stared up at Eijirou shyly. For as much energy and confidence she held, she was equally just as shy and a little nervous around new people. It’s a new manifestation. One that’s only been happening for the past five months, because Natsumi no longer had the crutch of a mother to guarantee her safety in every social encounter.
It’s devastating to watch a two year old try to interact in a world she believed her mother left her for.
But Eijirou’s always been good at comforting people. That’s just who he is. He was always warm, always kind, always trying to make others happy.
He bent down and put a big hand out to Natsumi.
“Natsumi right? Are you hungry?” He asked.
She pressed her chubby little fingers into his and allowed him to give her a handshake. As they formally met, Eijirou glanced over to Katsuki.
“If it’s okay with you, I’ve got raspberry thumbprints in the back,” he offered.
Katsuki bit his lip.
He didn’t want to owe Eijirou anything. Not with the way things were. They weren’t on good terms at all. It was to the point where they couldn’t even share friends.
And Katsuki still had no idea what had happened four years ago to make Eijirou hate him so much.
“Just one and then we’re leaving,” he decided, trying and failing to look like he had a shred of stability.
He’s not sure why Eijirou was being so nice to him lately. Maybe it truly was because Emiko had just died and he was suddenly a father to a two year old.
But still, it sent his entire being into fight or flight mode.
Because four years ago, Eijirou destroyed him, and Katsuki relived that moment every single time he looked at the other man.
He remembered it like it was yesterday.
Remembered coming home from work late after working a double shift, remembered being so excited to tell Eijirou that he’d gotten a promotion to a new job in the city that Eijirou had always dreamed of moving to. Katsuki remembered feeling like all of the extra hours had finally paid off, like this job would all be worth it because he got to take Eijirou to the city. He got to help him reach his goals.
But then the house was empty. Half of the furniture was gone, all of Eijirou’s things were packed and Eijirou himself stood at the center of the living room with a cold look on his face.
He remembered the other man telling him that he was done, that he and Katsuki were over and he was moving out.
And Katsuki remembered crumbling to the floor and sobbing. Begging Eijirou to tell him why he was leaving and getting no response. Chasing after the man as he walked towards the front door, trying to block him from leaving so that Katsuki could fix things, so that he could figure out what he could’ve done to make Eijirou fall out of love with him.
none of it had mattered. Nothing had made him stay. Eijirou had packed up his stuff and abandoned Katsuki without a word. He didn’t get to know why. He didn’t get to hear the other man say goodbye.
Instead Katsuki was just left in their shared apartment to sob on the wood floors of their empty living room.
“Mm,” Natsumi hummed as she took a bite of the raspberry thumbprint cookie. Her eyes lit up just like Emiko’s used to.
It pulled him out of the horrible memories just long enough to nod in thanks to Eijirou. The little girl chewed slowly, utterly amazed by how delicious the dessert was. Eijirou had always had a knack for that kind of thing. Baking was a skill he’d been born with.
That’s why Katsuki was trying so hard for that promotion all those years ago. He wanted to get Eijirou in that damn city, and show the world how amazing his bakery truly was.
Katsuki smiled as he wiped a crumb from the side of her face, “S’good isn’t it.”
“Hopefully she’s not too jittery now,” eijirou smiled apologetically.
It was hard to not stare. Hard to look away from the person Katsuki had given his world for. All he’d ever wanted was Eijirou, and after four years of meaningless sex and horrible binge drinking to forget that dreadful break up all that time ago, nothing seemed to stop the want.
Katsuki resented everything about that feeling.
He shouldn’t care about the other man. He shouldn’t feel breathless when he sees those gorgeous red locks, or nervous when the other man so much as smiles.
Eijirou left him. He walked out without a word and left Katsuki a crumpled mess of tears and confusion.
Katsuki let out a sigh as he scooped up his little girl and sat her on his hip.
“Honestly we need all the energy we can get,” he faked a smile as he looked at Natsumi. “It’s been an adjustment without mama.”
Natsumi stared at him with a lack of understanding for what he was saying.
When the news had broken that a tragic car accident had taken Emiko’s life, Katsuki was too far away. He was an hour and a half drive away from Natsumi. His parents had been the ones to break the news to the two year old, and while he was sure they meant well, it didn’t help. They told her Emiko had died, and said mommy wouldn’t be back because she was dead.
But Natsumi didn’t know what death was, she could hardly even understand what it meant to be alive. So for the past few nights all she’s done is ask when mama was coming back.
And when she didn't like Katsuki’s answers she’d cry and scream and throw fits well into the night.
It was a horribly painful adjustment for him.
He hadn’t planned to be a father at twenty four, and he hadn’t planned to step into Emiko’s place with Natsumi.
“Did you try giving her a shirt or something? A blanket that smells like Emiko,” Eijirou tried.
“Yeah. It’s just,” katsuki bit the inside of his lip as daggers pierced his chest. “It’s been a few months and things are starting to fade away.”
It’s been almost five months since the accident. Since a drunk driver decided it was necessary to drive home, and took away Emiko.
For the first four months he lived with his parents and Natsumi. Now he was on his own, packing his sister's things and getting ready to send it all to storage. Then he’d have to pay the rest of her lease, and figure the rest out from there.
“Maybe a bedtime story?” Eijirou offered, leaning his elbow on the countertop of his bakery as he thought deeply.
Katsuki isn’t sure why he hadn’t left yet.
Maybe it’s because he really didn’t want to be away from Eijirou.
In some warped way, Katsuki liked to be near him still. Even though he’d broken his heart, Katsuki still missed him.
“Emiko didn’t do that. There’s no kids books in the house,” he shook his head as he genuinely pondered the idea.
“Well maybe it can be a bonding experience for you two,” the redhead smiled. “I have some kids books at my place from when I volunteered at the library. I can bring a few to Emiko’s place tonight.”
And he should’ve said no. Katsuki should’ve denied the other man from ever coming into Emiko’s home. He should’ve walked right out of that bakery and locked up his stupid heart from the other man.
But he didn’t.
“Okay,” Katsuki nodded, knowing that the only thing he was really doing by agreeing was breaking his own heart further.
Eijirou had left him four years ago. He didn’t want Katsuki anymore.
Yet Katsuki jumped at any opportunity to be near Eijirou.
—
“Hey,” Eijirou smiled when the door swung open. “Ready for a bedtime story?”
“Tch, come in,” Katsuki leaned to the side, allowing Eijirou to enter.
He’d never been inside Emiko’s apartment. It was similar to his, the only difference being the toys on the floor and the mess of sippy cups in the kitchen. There were boxes as well, packed up the brim and taped, stacked in large towers all around.
It was obvious they were packing Emiko’s things. He wondered how Natsumi processed all of this so young. Surely she knew her mother was missing. But did she know where? Did she know why her mom wasn’t home each night?
Eijirou bit his lip as Katsuki flipped through each of the children’s books he brought, inspecting the plot, the characters, the colors, the words. Critically looking to see which one Natsumi would like best.
It wasn't his place to ask how the news was broken to Natsumi about her mother, and he was sure that was the last thing Natsumi wanted to talk to his ex about. Instead he looked at the pictures on the wall.
Fragments frozen in time, forever there but longer experienced. It was painful to look at even as an outsider. A picture of Emiko and Katsuki with a big diploma in his hands, back when Katsuki graduated college. A picture of their family when Eijirou was still around. He squinted at that one, looking at how young they were.
Another picture showed the day Natsumi was born. A precious little baby laid against Emiko’s chest. Another of Katsuki holding Natsumi. Another of Natsumi, Deku, and Katsuki.
In all of them, there was color in Katsuki’s face. A warm shade of tan, a dust of rose on his cheeks. Toothy grins and wrinkles at his eyes from smiling so hard.
“Baba,” Natsumi’s voice tore him from his thoughts. He turned back to look at Katsuki, who he assumed Baba was.
Now he was tired. His eyes were swollen constantly, his skin a shade of grey, his face forever haunted. Even when he tried to look happy for the little girl at his feet.
“Ready for bed? We’re gonna try a story tonight,” Katsuki grinned, though it didn’t meet his eyes.
Natsumi was already in her pajamas, a precious little pink set.
Just as they were about to head off to her room, Katsuki’s phone began to ring.
“Fucking hell,” he sighed as he checked the caller ID.
It must’ve been work. It had to have been work for Katsuki to take a call this late at night. It was so reminiscent of their final weeks together before Eijirou ended things. The way a phone call pierced their peace and ruined the moment. The way Katsuki always chose the phone over the situation.
He pointed towards the little girl's door, “Go to your room, I’ll be right there,” he whispered kindly before answering the phone.
Eijirou rolled his eyes against his better judgment. It’s not his place to judge. Not when all of this was so unexpected.
But he can’t help but feel bad for both of them. Katsuki was married to work, Natsumi just needed a parent, Katsuki never asked to be a parent, Natsumi never asked to lose her mom.
“Here, follow me Natsu,” he smiled softly at the little girl, grabbing the books from the counter and walking towards her bedroom.
She followed quickly, settling in her bed and grabbing each book as Eijirou placed them down in front of her.
As much as he couldn’t stand Katsuki, he had to admit his niece was adorable. Her little poof of blonde hair, her tiny fingers, her specificity of her bed. She was so small, so young.
Too young to lose something so big.
She picked one quickly, obviously the one with kittens on the cover, and the two of them sat quietly as they listened to the muffled voice of Katsuki in the next room over. It seemed to be a super important call, what with the way Katsuki was using the word sir, and sputtering a slew of apologies for his tardiness this week.
“Why don’t I get it started okay?” He offered the little girl.
Natsumi nodded happily, completely oblivious of their fathers stress in the next room over.
Eijirou had read to many kids. He volunteered for the library when he was in high school, and read to kids in after school programs when he was saving money for his dream bakery in the city.
But Natsumi was one of the good ones. The easy type, the ones who sat quietly and listened to every word. The kid who clinched at her blanket and watched Eijirou’s lips move with each word, mesmerized by the story he laid out.
About halfway through the book, when Natsumi’s eyes started to droop, the door creaked open quietly. Eijirou paid no mind to the other man as he entered the bedroom, not wanting to break up the flow of the book and risk ruining the sweet dreamy state the little girl was slowly slipping into.
Katsuki stood awkwardly, only for a moment before he was crawling into the tiny little bed. He curled up at Natsumi’s side, allowing the little girl to pull the blanket over him and tuck a stuffed animal near his chest.
And then the both of them were curled up, watching Eijirou intently as he read.
In that moment, he could’ve sworn he was seeing double. Two pairs of scarlets, dazzling as they watched Eijirou, like he was important, like he truly meant something to the both of them. Soon those scarlets started to waiver. Slowly, both of them drifted off to sleep, carried by Eijirou’s calming words as he finished up the book.
By the time it was over, both Katsuki and Natsumi were asleep and for a moment all he could do was stare. At the man who used to fall asleep beside him every night. At the person he’d once loved so much. At the lover he’d cherished until he couldn’t anymore.
He hated him. For getting bored of Eijirou, for taking the city, for coming back, for flipping his entire world upside down and resurfacing all of these feelings, all of these things left unsaid.
He loathed how much he still cared about Katsuki Bakugou.
—
Life had slowly turned into a pile of sludge that Katsuki was blindly dragging his feet through. Raising Natsumi was hard. Grieving his sister was awful. But he was managing. Sort of.
The overhead bell of the bakery’s door opened as Katsuki walked inside. Natsumi hadn’t joined him today, which meant he’d have to face Eijirou on his own.
He pretended seeing him behind the counter didn’t send chills through his entire body. Seeing Eijirou was nearly impossible.
Remembering how much he loved him, how good it felt to be loved by him, it was all too hard. Katsuki hated him so much. He hated him for leaving, hating him for walking away without a word.
He doesn’t even know if he’s doing the right thing by coming back to Eijirou to thank him. Eijirou left him, he wanted nothing to do with him so why was he up the other man’s ass the past few weeks? He needed Emiko to tell him what to do, to set him straight.
But Emiko was gone and she wasn’t coming back to tell Katsuki he was being a fucking idiot.
When Eijirou didn’t say anything upon Katsuki's arrival, he panicked. Maybe he should just turn around now. Run out and gaslight Eijirou into thinking he totally hallucinated Katsuki’s visit.
But he was trying to do the right thing. Trying to be nice to the guy who hated him. Trying to appreciate the fact that Eijirou wanted to do something nice to him despite the fact that he left Katsuki in an empty apartment four years ago.
He cleared his throat before stepping up to the counter. “Do you have any of those raspberry thumbprints? Natsumi really likes them.”
It was true, Natsumi did enjoy them.
But that’s not really why he’s here. The cookies are just a way to get the other man’s angry gaze off of him. It’s just an excuse so Katsuki can breathe without feeling like he’s going to die.
“Of course,” the redhead nodded as he got to work filling a soft blue box with the cookies.
He didn’t seem aggressively angry to see Katsuki, but there was definitely an awkward tension filling the air between them. There was so much left unsaid between them. So much that Katsuki had never quite understood due to the abruptness of Eijirou’s departure.
And still, he couldn’t fucking stay away. Even when his heart was already obliterated from losing Emiko. Even when his head ached from lack of sleep, and his limbs begged for a break as he tried to juggle the many hats of parenthood and working in a city that was an hour and a half away.
Since the day they met, he’s been pulled to Eijirou. He’s always been so entirely enthralled by the other man's mere existence. It was impossible to stay away, even when Katsuki knew he wasn’t wanted.
His soft red hair, the sweet smell of pastries that followed him even when he wasn’t at the bakery. Eijirou was all tanned skin and thick muscles. He was kind, sturdy, dependable.
He was everything to Katsuki.
And Katsuki was absolutely nothing to Eijirou.
“I wanted to thank you for the other night,” Katsuki filled up the quiet quickly, worried about what might happen if the two of them were stuck in silence for too long.
He didn’t want to fight with Eijirou, and he didn’t want to bring up shit from the past. Moreover, he didn’t want to talk about Emiko.
Last week Eijirou had read Natsumi and Katsuki to sleep and for the first time in almost six months Natsumi slept through the night. Katsuki didn’t sleep half bad either. When he’d woken up the next morning, Eijirou was gone and a note was left on the stack of books, telling him he could keep them.
Since then, Katsuki had read to Natsumi every single night. She loved him, she looked forward to it, and it became somewhat of a hobby for Katsuki to pick up a few more books from the library to read with his little girl when he got home.
“Don’t mention it, man,” Eijirou brushed it off as he boxed a half dozen of the thumbprint cookies.
Don’t mention it. Man.
It shouldn’t hurt, how platonic it was. How Katsuki wasn’t entitled to terms of endearment nor a passing glance anymore.
But it does. Of course it does, because Katsuki never really got closure on Eijirou.
He never got to know why Eijirou left, or what he’d done to make the other man unhappy. Eijirou left silently, and for four years Katsuki had been left to sit and wonder where it all went wrong.
For a moment, he was hit with the guilt that he probably wasn’t doing the right thing by coming here.
He was visiting his ex. The man who walked out, the guy who wanted nothing to do with him.
“Right, okay,” Katsuki nodded.
Suddenly a horrible wave of sickness washed over him.
Because he needed Emiko.
That’s the shitty thing about grief, it comes in waves but it’s not predictable. It’s like a fucking tsunami hits you out of nowhere and your left to wonder how this started and where the hell it came from.
Emiko would’ve been able to tell him what to do about all of this. About Eijirou, about himself, about his residual feelings for the other man.
But she’s dead. She’s buried under six feet of fucking dirt, and she was never coming back.
He paid the bill quietly, grabbed the box of cookies and nodded at Eijirou.
“Goodbye,” he waved before turning.
His stomach hurt. His heart hurt. He missed Emiko, and he missed Eijirou. Everything was so fucked up and he had absolutely nobody to share this grief.
“I could come again tonight,” eijirou yelled out just as Katsuki was reaching for the door.
“If you need help.”
Katsuki turned around to look at the other man carefully.
He didn’t want pity. Didn’t want to force the other man to be around him just because his sister was dead and his baby can’t sleep because of that.
But Eijirou’s face doesn’t hold pity at all. If anything, it only really showed interest in that moment.
“Yeah?” Katsuki smiled, and Eijirou nodded his head.
“Maybe this time I’ll watch instead of falling asleep.”
—
Katsuki did not stay awake. He fell asleep before Natsumi even started to drift. Not that Eijirou was complaining. Secretly that’s what he’d wanted.
The other man looked exhausted at the bakery today. The bags under his eyes were a dark blackish purple, and his face was skinny like he hadn’t been nourishing himself.
And Eijirou was worried. Even if he shouldn’t be, even if it was counterproductive, he was extremely worried about his ex boyfriend.
So he read another book, and allowed Katsuki to listen. He watched as the two blondes curled up excitedly for another story, felt the intense gaze of those two as he watched his lips formulate words.
And he let Katsuki sleep.
This time however, he didn’t leave. Because he was fucking crazy, Eijirou supposed.
Instead he watched as his ex boyfriend’s sleeping figure rose and fell as he breathed. He stared at the other man’s eyelashes, countered the freckles on his skin, reacquainted himself with the familiar bridge of the other man’s nose.
He couldn’t help it. Katsuki was like a work of art, even when Eijirou hated him.
It’s a travesty that Eijirou became something he didn’t want anymore. It’s a damn shame that he couldn’t spend the rest of his life counting each freckle, each eyelash, each perfect imperfection.
It’s a crime that Katsuki moved out to the city and moved on from him in a heartbeat.
Because Eijirou would’ve done anything to get all of that attention back on him. He would’ve moved fucking mountains to make Katsuki love him the way he used to. The way he needed him to.
After a moment, Katsuki must’ve felt him staring, because soon his eyes fluttered open.
“Fuck, I did it again,” he blinked rapidly, hoping to wake himself up.
“It’s okay,” Eijirou shook his head, fighting the awkward blush rising to his cheeks at the fact that he’d just been caught staring at his ex boyfriend like some creep.
Katsuki must not have thought anything of it, because all too soon he was untangling himself from the sleeping child and standing up, beckoning him to follow.
“Are you hungry? I bought shit for dinner.”
Eijirou shrugged his shoulders, “Only if it’s my favorite.”
“You know it’s your favorite.”
—
Eijirou got home late. He’d stayed way past close, trying to get enough dough in the fridge for tomorrow so he could sleep in a bit.
As he moved sluggishly through the halls of his apartment complex, he wandered upon a certain blonde sitting on the front porch. Their apartments were on opposite sides of each other, with a large gap between them that looked down the sets of staircases.
He peered at the other man, taking in his slouched form where he sat on the front door step. Katsuki was hunched over, seemingly staring at nothing on the floor.
A beer bottle sat at his side.
Eijirou was going to ignore it, or at least he planned to. Katsuki had become quite the drinker since moving to a city that exploded with fun and entertainment. He’d seen it in posts on social media, heard about it from friends of friends.
Katsuki was a messy drunk. A guy who drank too much and ended up falling on the floor of bars, or being dragged home by Deku or some random fling.
But he’s got a baby in that house. A baby that Eijirou knew meant the world to Katsuki. A baby that was the only tether Emiko had left to the real world.
So he walked the short distance from his apartment to Emiko’s.
“Drinking? It’s a Tuesday,” he asked as casually as an ex boyfriend could ask a question like that.
It’s not his place to scold, nor is it his place to pry, but perhaps sitting here with him could effectively stop the impending doom that was a drunk Katsuki Bakugou.
Eijirou flicked his hand, silently asking the blonde to scoot over as he sat next to him on the doorstep.
The other man glanced back for a moment, furrowing his brows like he had no idea what Eijirou was talking about until his eyes landed on the bottle between them. Then his gaze softened, just slightly, into something vulnerable.
“I haven’t opened it yet. Still thinking about it.”
Eijirou nodded. It was just one beer and yet Eijirou could feel a bit of anxiety pooling in his gut at its presence.
They were never too keen on alcohol or drugs.
When their friends partied hard, Katsuki and Eijirou were the designated drivers or the friends who’d let you stay over to make sure you didn’t asphyxiate on your own vomit.
But Katsuki was different now.
“You didn’t used to drink the way you do now,” Eijirou felt himself saying, careful words filling the once silent halls. “You used to hate the way it tasted.”
In fact, Eijirou could’ve counted on his fingers the amount of times Katsuki had allowed himself to get drunk. He used to say it was bad for him, used to say he wasn’t stupid enough to fuck up his health.
“I still do,” was the other man’s quiet response.
It did little to curb the anxiety in Eijirou’s guts.
He shouldn’t worry. Not when the other man was grown enough to make his own choices. They were codependent on each other anymore. Eijirou didn’t have a right to still worry about his ex.
But he did worry, and he always probably would.
“I haven’t gone out and drank like that in six months.”
The taller man ran his fingers through his short blonde locks, bowing his head as he let out a sigh of pure exhaustion.
He could leave now. Eijirou could go back to his place with the knowledge that Katsuki wouldn’t be drinking and putting himself or his new daughter in danger.
There was no real reason to stay here and talk to his ex boyfriend.
“What made you quit?” He asked instead.
Katsuki shrugged his shoulders, clasping his hands together as he stared off towards the concrete floors of the hallways.
“Like you said, I never really liked it. It just made me forget.”
Eijirou shook his head, “Forget what?”
“Everything,” he smiled, though it lacked any real happiness at all. “For a little bit anyways.”
His words were so forced, so tight and sharp like they’d been locked in his chest. Like he’d been holding back more, hiding everything away from the world.
Katsuki always did that. He always took those big feelings that were too hard to name and squished them into a ball that he could successfully ignore until it got too big and caught in his throat. Then of course he’d have a breakdown, and Eijirou would comfort him through it.
Eijirou wondered what he did now, when everything became too much and he couldn’t hold it together anymore. What did he do on those nights, when his heart broke and his lungs ached and Eijirou wasn’t there to hold him through it anymore?
Selfishly, Eijirou had the unnecessary urge to be jealous. Jealous of whoever took his place. Jealous of whoever became what he used to be.
Jealous, because he ended things with Bakugou. Because Bakugou became someone who couldn’t even spare a passing glance to Eijirou towards the end of their relationship.
“Now that I’ve got Natsumi I’ll probably never touch alcohol again.”
Of course, everything was extremely different now.
It’s been years. Four years since Eijirou packed up his stuff and moved here. Four years without Katsuki Bakugou.
He doesn’t know his favorite color anymore, or his favorite snack. He doesn’t know how Katsuki copes, or how he deals with external pressures. They were young when they met, and young when they broke apart. Their relationship only lasted from the ages of eighteen to twenty.
Eijirou doesn’t really know anything about this new, adult version of Katsuki.
“So then what’s this all about?” Eijirou motioned towards the beer sitting between the two of them.
True to Katsuki’s word, it’s unopened. Cold, like he’d pulled it from the fridge, but growing condensation like it’s been sitting out for a while now.
“It’s Emiko’s favorite. Before Natsumi she’d bring me one of these and we’d drink it right here.”
And Eijirou remembered. Of course he did, because those were the days he pulled his blinds closed tight and pretended the man who broke his heart to smithereens wasn’t sitting outside his apartment.
He hated Katsuki for that. Hated that he could move on from Eijirou and the break up and sit in front of his new apartment like none of it mattered. Like Eijirou was just another relationship he’d used up and gotten bored of.
“Sitting out here with my sister was one of the only things that made me happy.”
There’s sympathy in his heart for the other man, but it’s snubbed out by his resentment, just like always. He doesn’t want to feel bad for Katsuki. Not after all the betrayal.
Katsuki had gotten bored of him. He’d picked up more shifts, and distanced himself from Eijirou. He worked and worked, and then when Eijirou had finally had enough Katsuki revealed that he was moving to the city? Eijirou’s city. The city of his fucking dreams.
His sympathy was laced with an anger he couldn’t shake, and a hurt that followed him everywhere he went because he still /loved/ Katsuki Bakugou the same way he did when he was a bashful eighteen year old.
Eijirou cleared his throat and leaned back against his arms to hopefully clear his own growing tension.
“So how’s life now that you’re back here?”
Katsuki scoffed, “Pretty fucking awful.”
And Eijirou couldn’t tell you why that felt personal. It had nothing to do with Eijirou whatsoever.
But maybe that was what hurt the most.
Because Katsuki didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to see Eijirou. He didn’t miss him, didn’t come back to the city and try to get him back.
In the four years since Eijirou had dumped him, Katsuki had decided that Eijirou wasn’t even worth a fight. The other man was content with what he’d had when Eijirou had cut him loose.
And for that, Eijirou loathed his very presence.
“We’ll probably move back to the city soon. I just need to fix things up here and pay off the rest of the lease,” Katsuki explained.
He was unaware of Eijirou’s growing frustration. He was always so unaware of the emotions going on all around him. Katsuki was always constantly on to what came next. Never focusing on right now.
It felt as if he was already looking past Eijirou. Again.
“I guess there isn’t a person in the world who could come between you and work,” Eijirou shook his head.
He had no right to say it. Katsuki could go back to the city if he wanted. He could do whatever the hell he pleased, because he was a single twenty four year old man with no ties to this city.
The blonde frowned, turning to look Eijirou in the eyes but settling on the side of his face when the redhead wouldn’t turn to meet him.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Eijirou shook his head, “Nothing, it’s just, why would you go back to work? Natsumi lives here, she knows this town, not that one.”
But that’s not the only reason. Selfishly, that’s not even the main reason.
Even though he’s the one who broke them apart, even though Eijirou was the one who put his foot down and left Katsuki a sobbing mess in their shared apartment, he wanted Katsuki to want to stay.
He wanted Katsuki to come back.
“She’s two. She’ll get used to a new city just fine,” Katsuki rolled his eyes.
“Anything to keep working, right?”
Eijirou cringed at his own words. He hated this. He hated that he was even saying it. This was about Natsumi. About a little girl who’d just lost her mother.
And yet here he was, bringing up his own discrepancies with the past. With something that happened four years ago when they were twenty years old.
“What the fuck is your problem? I didn’t put my goddamn work before anyone! Everything I’ve done has been for everyone else!”
Katsuki’s voice was raised an octave, and his eyes held a fire that had never been aimed at Eijirou before. Even when they broke up, Katsuki had never given him a look of hatred, or disdain. He had always taken up that soft spot in Katsuki’s heart.
But right now the other man was angry, and he wasn’t looking at Eijirou the way he used to, the way he wanted. No, instead he looked at Eijirou like he was an outsider in his life.
As if Eijirou was just some guy, some person that didn’t even matter anymore.
Maybe he was.
Maybe that’s why Eijirou kept going.
“Yeah right. You were married to work. It was killing you, and you still ran off to the city and left me behind,” he yelled right back.
Katsuki reeled back, eyes wide like saucers, mouth sucking in air like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“You broke up with me!” He practically screamed, holding no concern for the door left slightly ajar to the apartment where his two year old slept.
A shaky breath, something akin to a tired laugh, peeled from Eijirou’s core.
Because he did break up with Katsuki. He knew that.
But he wanted it to mean something. He wanted it to be Katsuki's wake up call. He wanted the other man to /care/. To stop working so much, to come home.
“Yeah, because you never fucking knew when to quit! You never stopped working, you chose work over a relationship every single day. It’s like you didn’t even care about me,” Eijirou hissed.
He should stop. Both of them should. All of this shouting, all of this arguing, it’s overdue. It’s all the words left unsaid for four goddamn years.
Katsuki threw his hands out in front of him, like it was obvious, “I did care about you! Why the fuck do you think I worked so hard?!”
“To stay away from me? To forget about your boyfriend and move out to the fucking city that I had always dreamed of moving to?”
It was obvious to Eijirou. It was something he’d come to terms with when they’d still been together. Katsuki didn’t want him anymore. He’d moved on to bigger and better things that had nothing to do with Eijirou.
Katsuki let out a sarcastic laugh, “Because I’m that fucking selfish?”
“Obviously you are, because that’s exactly what you did.”
Eijirou met his gaze head on this time, glaring at Katsuki with pure anguish and hurt. Feelings he’d shoved down and prayed would never surface again for the man in front of him.
And then there was silence. Thick, heavy, charged with emotion.
The blonde's eyes were searching. His brows were furrowed in anger and confusion, like he was grappling with something in his head that he just couldn’t quite grip.
His voice was breathless as he squeezed his eyes shut, “God, you really are a jerk.”
It sounded so hurt. So destroyed. Eijirou momentarily felt guilty for pulling that from him.
Eerily, it was similar to how he sounded when Eijirou had left. That same crackly, tired, strained voice Katsuki had used when he begged Eijirou to stay. Cried for him to just listen for a moment.
He grimaced at the reminder. At the way the blonde's face had contorted in shock, like the floor had been knocked out from under him. At the way the pain fizzled in slow at first before it all dropped down on Katsuki like a fucking bomb and he crumbled to their floors.
Eijirou remembered it like it was yesterday. He grieved it like it had just happened. He felt his face burn at the memory.
With shaking hands, Katsuki formulated a response. Careful, angry, hurt.
“You honestly think I bent over backwards at work just to get away from you? You think I wanted to move to that stupid fucking place?”
It’s the first the redhead has heard any sort of emotion for the city from the blonde. The first Katsuki had ever described it to him, and the word he used was stupid?
A pinch in his guts had him half wondering if somehow he’d got it wrong.
“I didn’t have to think, that’s what you showed me. That’s how you treated me,” he shrugged his shoulders.
That was the truth of it. No matter what, Katsuki had gotten too busy with work to even remember Eijirou was a priority. He worked from sunrise to sunset.
He worked and worked, obviously desperate for a new start. Like he craved a new life with a better pay cut and a different scene. He didn’t want to live in the calm, quiet city that Eijirou hated just as much.
That’s why he took Eijirou’s dreams and ran with them, and for that Eijirou would never forgive Katsuki.
“You think being here is awful—“
Katsuki cut him off immediately, “Because I’m living in a city where my sister died and my ex boyfriend of three fucking years walked out on me without a goddamn explanation!”
His voice was loud, domineering. It echoed off the quiet halls of the apartment complex.
And it punched Eijirou in the fucking guts. He hadn’t even thought of that, too wrapped up in his own heartache. Katsuki had just lost his sister. He was hurting.
“And I was trying to get /you/ to that damn city in that fucking dream apartment you always talked about!”
At that Eijirou felt his own breath hitch. Like a glass of freezing water was poured down the back of his shirt, his whole body seemed to seize up for a moment. Because he didn’t know that. He never in a million years would’ve guessed that.
He opened his mouth but words didn’t come out. Honestly Eijirou wasn’t sure what he’d even say if his mouth was working correctly.
He was trying to get Eijirou to the city. He was trying to get Eijirou to the city. It repeated in his head, haunting him as Katsuki continued to yell.
“I worked my ass off at work, I practically got on my goddamn knees and begged for that fucking promotion at their headquarters in the city, because I was trying to get us there so you could open that damn bakery you always talked about.”
Katsuki’s voice was hoarse, and his words became brittle as he painfully explained himself.
And Eijirou could only sit there shell shocked.
“What?”
The city was for him? The work was for him? His own fingers began to tremble, like an adrenaline rush you’d get after seeing a car crash. That wasn’t what he remembered. That’s not what he’d told himself during all of those lonely nights in a shared apartment. Those weren’t the words he was assuming when he was packing away his things and getting ready to leave Katsuki.
He was doing it for him. Katsuki was doing it for Eijirou.
He’d talked about the city a lot when they were younger. Eijirou had gone on and on about it, about how badly he wanted to open a bakery in the heart of it, where people wandered freely, where nobody ever slept, where citizens were their true authentic self.
Eijirou craved it. He dreamed of it. He talked about it everyday. How, if he’d just had a bit more money he could make it. If he could just save a little more he could afford an apartment down there and rent out a small shop at the city’s core.
It was his dream.
And Katsuki was trying to get him there?
It was like a fucking landslide. Like everything he’d held onto— all the anger and resentment— was falling apart like a poorly woven sweater as the truth tore through its structural integrity.
Katsuki wasn’t working to avoid him, he was working /for/ him. He was trying to get a raise, to get him to the city. He was doing all of this for Eijirou.
And Eijirou left.
The blonde stood up suddenly, rising to his feet like he needed to run.
“I wanted to make you happy. I wanted to start a life with /you/ out there!” He pointed at Eijirou sharply.
Eijirou scrambled to his feet, kicking over the long forgotten bottle of beer sitting between them and stumbling as he tried to follow Katsuki inside.
He grabbed the taller man’s arm, “Wait—“
“/No/,” the man threw his arm off of him and spun around sharply.
Blocking him from the door. Denying him entry. Keeping Eijirou away. It sent Eijirou’s heart crumbling.
How had he gotten this /so/ wrong?
Katsuki’s voice crackled like he might cry but his face stayed dry and angry as his words tore out of him.
“/You/ fucking left me. You packed your shit and left the day I got this bullshit promotion. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain that this horrible fucking job was for you!”
Eijirou might throw up.
“You didn’t even let me talk,” Katsuki croaked, pushing his hands to his eyes violently before shaking them away.
Like he was denying himself the right to feel any of this. Like he was already trying to figure out how to get out of this, how to rid himself of the pain Eijirou had once again inflicted on him.
“I didn’t—“ Eijirou’s voice shook, as he tried to piece his own thoughts together. “You never told me that. Why didn’t you tell me that’s why you were working so hard?”
Katsuki's face contorted as he threw a hand up, “God would it have even changed anything?”
He did not speak for a moment as he processed the question.
Because Eijirou had been set on leaving. Nothing was going to stop him. He’d packed his things, signed a lease at this apartment instead. He’d ignored the blonde pleas, ignored how he sobbed on the hardwood floors for him to stay, for him to have a moment to respond.
Eijirou had already made it up in his mind. He’d known he was leaving the moment he felt Katsuki drift.
“It was so easy for you to just get up and go. You packed your shit and left me there when I cried and begged like a fucking child for you to stay,” Katsuki recalled, once again pressing his fingers to his face to stop himself from /feeling/ any of this.
Eijirou grabbed his wrists but froze once they were in his hands. It’s the first time he’s touched him— really touched him— in years. He can feel the familiar heart beat on the man’s wrists, can feel the warmth of his skin against Eijirou’s own clammy fingers.
It’s so familiar. It’s everything. Katsuki was everything to him.
He was Eijirou’s one and only. His dream. The city would’ve meant nothing if it meant Katsuki wouldn’t be able to share a life with him. If he had taken Eijirou to the city and continued to work the way he had been, none of that would’ve made Eijirou happy. It wouldn’t have been his dream at all. It would’ve been a nightmare.
And if Eijirou had known that Katsuki was working so hard just to get them out of this quiet town, if he had known Katsuki was breaking his neck working at a job he didn’t even truly enjoy, just for /Eijirou/?
He would’ve stopped him. He would’ve kissed him senselessly and reminded Katsuki that they’d get there eventually. That he didn’t need Katsuki to support him like this.
Eijirou felt his eyes well up with tears as he breathed out shakily, “It would’ve changed things, it would’ve changed everything.”
If he had known, if Katsuki had explained why he was working everyday to the point that Eijirou hardly even saw him, he would’ve fucking stopped it.
They could’ve stayed together. They could’ve still been together.
Katsuki shoved the redheads hands off of him again, slapping his hands away like it was a sickness.
Like Eijirou had truly destroyed him four years ago, and he was /scared/ of what would happen if he so much as touched him again.
Katsuki hissed, “Well you never told me you felt like I was abandoning you. You never told me you felt any of this until now, after four fucking years! How the hell was I supposed to fix it if you never told me anything was wrong to begin with?”
And that was true as well. Eijirou never said anything. He never mentioned his concern, never told Katsuki how much it hurt to be with him but not really /with/ him.
He never said anything at all. He just let everything crumble on its own.
“I didn’t think you’d care,” Eijirou rasped.
Katsuki threw his head back, silently cursing in his head before his angry gaze was right back on Eijirou.
“Are you fucking kidding? I drank myself to death over this shit. I worked until my fucking fingers bled just to ignore how fucking heartbroken I was! I had to teach myself how to /live/ again, in a new city that only reminded me of /you/.“
It killed Eijirou. All of it. Everything he said, every truth that Katsuki spoke.
The drinking to forget. The alcohol used to cope with the fact that his boyfriend left him just as he achieved his goal, just as he opened the door to their new life.
He worked to forget all of this, to forget Eijirou. He drank to kill off the hurt that never left, to stop his brain from thinking about what could’ve possibly gone wrong.
“Katsuki,” Eijirou’s heart lurched as he tried to reach for him again, desperate to somehow fix a problem that started four fucking years ago.
But Katsuki withdrew. He took a step back, into the apartment. One step, one tiny little step, yet it felt like he had totally removed himself from the situation. Like Katsuki was truly done with Eijirou now.
Had he given him closure? Had Eijirou unknowingly ended everything now?
“Stop it. Just fucking stop. I can’t do this again. I can’t fuck up with you again,” Katsuki shook his head.
‘I can’t fuck up with you again’.
Katsuki was taking all of the blame.
It should make Eijirou happy. All these years he wanted Katsuki to admit that Eijirou was right. That Katsuki had worked too much and forgotten about their relationship.
But now it just felt wrong. Now that he knew the other man’s intentions, now that he knew why Katsuki was doing all of this. It just left a sour taste in his mouth.
He was such a fucking idiot. Both of them were so stupid.
Katsuki was just trying to make Eijirou happy. And yeah, he was an idiot, he didn’t communicate, but neither did Eijirou.
“If that’s how you felt— if that’s how I made you feel, then I’m glad we’re over,” Katsuki croaked, running his fingers through his disheveled hair.
It was evident that Katsuki was going through the exact same anguish as Eijirou.
He was processing the miscommunication, the stupidity, the absolute mess they’d both created. Only Katsuki was taking all of the blame. He was blaming all of this on himself. Eijirou could see it in the remorse on his face.
Katsuki’s teeth chattered, skin paler than usual as he frantically confessed, “I never wanted you to feel like you were anything less than everything to me. So if all I did was make you feel like shit then I guess it’s good that you left. You deserve more than that.”
If Eijirou’s heart wasn’t already broken, these words destroyed it.
Because it was true, and Eijirou knew it was. Because before all of this stupid city bullshit, before Katsuki had gone and tried to do it all on his own for Eijirou, he knew he was everything to Katsuki.
Katsuki had always tried his very best to show how much he adored Eijirou. He cooked him his favorite foods, he held the door open for him, he bought him gifts and took him out on dates. They went to Katsuki’s favorite secret spots, they held hands and kissed and made their friends gag at the PDA. He did it all for Eijirou.
He always tried so hard for Eijirou. And this time, this last time, he’d somehow managed to try too hard. He’d somehow managed to end their relationship by trying too hard.
And it killed Eijirou. He’d never ever be loved that way again, this much he knew. Because as much as Katsuki was all bristles and sharpness. As much as he was snappy and easy to anger.
He was the most pure, soft, devoted and kind lover Eijirou had ever experienced.
It was all slipping away, sliding through Eijirou’s fingers right in front of him. He opened his mouth to talk, to say anything to somehow fix this, to fix them.
But another, much smaller voice beat him to it.
“Mama,” it came from behind Katsuki. Inside the dark house. “Mama?”
Natsumi had woken up.
And she was looking for her mother. Her dead mother. Katsuki’s dead sister.
Eijirou felt guilt creeping in. They were fighting over old shit. Bringing up things that happened four years ago. While Katsuki’s sister had just died and he should be grieving.
The blonde turned and picked up the tiny little girl, curling her to his side and swaying her back and forth to hopefully get her back to sleep.
His face was grief stricken, like he needed Emiko just as much as the little girl in his arms. Eijirou felt sick knowing part of the reason the man looked so distraught was because of him.
One glance towards Eijirou told him all he needed to know. He wasn’t wanted here. He wasn’t needed anymore. No longer did he get to provide comfort for the blonde. Instead he was just a painful reminder of a fuck up from the past.
“You should leave.”
His words were firm, his hands were shaking, his body was swaying with the little girl in his arms. The little girl that represented a new version of Katsuki. A Katsuki Eijirou would never know.
It took everything in Eijirou to turn around and walk back to his own apartment. It took everything to pretend the sound of the door shutting and locking didn’t kill him.
—
It’s been a week. A week since everything Eijirou thought he knew unraveled into an entirely different story. A week of Eijirou remembering everything that happened all those years ago and examining it through a different lens.
A week of avoiding each other. A week of epiphanies, a week of guilt and dread.
He’d flipped it every way possibly. Trust him when Eijirou said that he wanted to find a way to discredit what Katsuki had said. He wanted to prove that he was lying, wanted to somehow rid himself of this horrible feeling, this horrible realization that the break up hadn’t only been Katsuki’s fault.
But Eijirou was in the wrong too. He knew he was. They were both young and stupid and inexperienced.
Because Katsuki was right. He never said anything. He never brought up how he was feeling. He never said anything at all. He just let Katsuki work himself to death and then left without so much as an explanation as to why.
It was like the rug had been pulled out from under him. Like everything he’d ever known was turned inside out.
He’d fucked up. They’d both screwed all of this up. They’d ruined their relationship together.
It ate away at Eijirou for seven days. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t talk to his moms, couldn’t go out with his friends.
His brain was just stuck. Caught on the fact that if either of them had communicated, maybe they’d still be together.
Not only was that a revelation in itself.
But Eijirou had come to the sudden realization that he had wanted to somehow reconcile this.
Eijirou still wanted to be with Katsuki.
When the scrambled thoughts in his brain became too much to bear, Eijirou finally snapped. He tore open the door, not caring that it was probably a little too early in the morning to go knocking on doors, and knocked on Katsuki’s.
It took a minute, but soon he heard shuffling and the sound of locks unlocking, and then he was face to face with Katsuki. His eyes flicked up at the other, adrenaline rushing through his eyes, making them ring as he thought about what he could possibly say to fix four years of damage.
“I never asked you to put all that pressure on yourself. If I had known that you were working yourself to death for /me/, I would’ve punched you in the face,” Eijirou explained profusely.
His nerves were eating him alive as he waited for any sort of response from the other man.
But Katsuki just stared at him for a long time. His eyes were swollen and tired. His body was fatigued. It looked like at any moment he might just curl up and die.
“What do you want Eijirou,” he sighed, when neither of them said anything at all.
“I want to apologize,” he swallowed thickly.
He could see Katsuki losing interest. He could feel the other man pulling away. This pain, this horrible ache had stretched across four years. It’s overstayed its welcome.
But Eijirou wasn’t ready to let go. Even if Katsuki was done with him, even if the blonde had gotten the closure he needed that night when they’d fought, even if Katsuki never wanted to see him again.
Eijirou had to tell him everything. He had to make sure that Katsuki knew how sorry he was and how much he adored him. How Eijirou had cherished all of their time together and how it had killed him to let him go.
“You weren’t a bad boyfriend,” his voice was shaky as he threw a hand up weakly in Katsuki general vicinity. “You were the best man I could’ve ever asked for. No one else ever compared to you.”
He could hear the way the other man swallowed, but refused to meet his gaze. If he looked at Katsuki now, his own walls might shatter. If he looked at the other man, the man he’d devoted so much emotion towards for the past seven years, he’s not sure he could keep it together.
“I should’ve let you talk. I should’ve listened to your explanation.”
That much, Eijirou can give him. Even though Katsuki never communicated, even though the blonde had tried to do everything on his own and hadn’t even told Eijirou about it, he at least owed Katsuki an apology for leaving him with nothing.
It haunts him, now that he knew the full story. Now that he knew that Katsuki was working so hard to make Eijirou’s dreams come true, it killed him to know that he left Katsuki crying on that floor, begging for an explanation that Eijirou assumed was crystal clear.
A low thunk made Eijirou look up to see Katsuki leaning his temple against the door frame. Tired. Tired of this conversation, tired of the heart ache, tired of Eijirou hurting him over and over again.
“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Katsuki shook his head.
Eijirou tilted his head, hoping to meet the other man’s gaze, but Katsuki didn’t open his tired eyes.
“Yeah but it did. It mattered to you and I stomped on it.”
At that Katsuki laughed, “I think I probably did that to you first.”
And it felt good, in some warped, fucked up way. It was nice to know that Katsuki realized he fucked up too. That he could acknowledge Eijirou’s hurt for him moving to the city, even if he hadn’t meant to hurt him that way.
It was all screwed up. So tangled and entwined. So full of resentment for each other, of unfinished thoughts and assumptions that only led to heart break.
It’s too much. They dated for three years. They were broken up for four.
And now they’re here. Adults, staring across from each other, finally untangling their mess.
“I’m sorry for not paying attention,“ Katsuki finally opened his eyes. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t important to me.”
Eijirou nodded with a small smile, “Me too.”
He let a breath untangle itself from his throat and he finally sighed in relief.
They’d fixed it, or at least they were starting to. They were finally going to fix their relationship.
“Okay,” Eijirou straightened out, ready to talk about it. About them. About what this meant for their relationship now that things had been straightened out.
“S-So,” he sputtered.
“So I’ll see you around,” Katsuki nodded.
It was like a record scratch. Like a car slamming on its brakes and throwing eijirou forward.
Because this didn’t mean anything.
Not to Katsuki.
Somehow he’d built it up in his head that if they figured this out, if they made it right with each other, then they’d get back together.
He thought that maybe Katsuki still felt the same.
But he was wrong.
“Oh, yeah. I’ll just,” Eijirou faked a grin as the blonde door started to close. “See you later.”
Half of him wondered if this was how it felt for Katsuki, four years ago when Eijirou had left him in silence. He wondered if Katsuki remembered that moment in the same way Eijirou would never forget this one.
The creak of the door. The way Katsuki wasn’t ready to meet his eyes, the way the click shut felt like a bullet in his chest.
This didn’t fix them at all. No matter how badly Eijirou wanted it to, no matter how horrible he felt for something he did years ago, this apology didn’t magically make Katsuki fall back in love with him. It didn’t make Katsuki forgive him either.
If anything, it only felt like he’d closed the door and officially ended the chapter between the two of them.