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It was a gloomy afternoon. The sky was covered in dark clouds, blocking away the sun the whole day, as if waiting for the moment you least prepared to pour down cold rain. It reminded Katsuki of that fateful War.
It felt ridiculous to think about it now. A year had already passed since then since then. Class 1-A was now in their final year of high school, just half a year away from being real pro heroes. All of his wounds had healed completely long ago, despite leaving some nasty scars all over his body. It wasn't like Katsuki cared much about appearance anyway. He wore them proudly like trophies. They were symbols of his effort, his growth and victory. He also liked how they made him look tough, but he’d rather bite his tongue off than admitting it to anyone.
They weren't always pleasant, though. Some days they throbbed, raw and painfully, to the point he couldn't function at all. In the middle of the pain, Katsuki felt like he was in the middle of it again, the fight, the smell of blood, the screaming and shouting, the desperation, the fear of losing those around him.
Today wasn't so bad. The huge patch of scar on his chest ached a bit, and the one on his face also throbbed occasionally, but both weren't enough to distract Katsuki from whatever tasks he needed to do. Katsuki glanced out the window, having just showered quickly after a training session, watched as the clouds rolled across the sky.
He heard Kirishima approached him from behind, a towel flung freely on his shoulder as he called:
“Bakubro! Good work today! That final move was awesome, dude!”
Katsuki smirked back:
“Of course, it’s me, after all! You ain’t too bad yourself.”
“Aw, thanks! It's super manly that you finally learned how to compliment!” Kirishima beamed.
“Don't make me take it back, Broom Head.”
Kirishima chuckled, obviously used to the way Katsuki function by now. He stood next to Katsuki and took a look outside before commenting:
“Man, it’s been looking like it's about to rain all day!”
They stood there for a few minutes in silence, just leaning against the window and watching the sky. Katsuki didn't need a mind reading quirk to know that Kirishima was thinking about that day as well.
They would probably never be able to go back to normal after that War.
After a while, Kirishima huffed out a sigh, straightened up and said:
“I'm heading out to buy some stuff now. Mina, Sero and I are on dinner duty today! What about you, Bakubro?”
“Going for a run.”
“Seriously? Right after training?” Kirishima laughed as he patted Katsuki's shoulder. “Both you and Midobro are so hardcore in training!”
“Heroes don't fucking slack off!” Katsuki grunted.
“Yes, I know, I know. You do you, Bakubro!”
Kirishima stopped for a second and rubbed his chin.
“Speaking of Midobro, I haven't seen him all day. Usually when someone asks for training partners in the group chat, he'd be arriving at the training ground before the text is even sent! Yet he didn't even reply to Uraraka when she asked earlier…”
Kirishima trailed off at the end of the sentence. He understood it, too. That today was probably a bad day for Izuku.
Katsuki sighed:
“I'll go look for Izuku.”
“Tell him we're making Katsudon tonight!” Nodded Kirishima, a relieved smile bloomed on his face. “I’m heading to the store now. See ya later, dude! And yes, we'll make some extra spicy ones for you!”
“As you should, Broom Head!” Katsuki smirked.
Kirishima quickly disappeared behind the door, leaving Katsuki alone again. He glanced one more time at the cloudy sky, then sighed and walked away from the window.
_______________
On bad days, Izuku would disappear into some corner around the school. Sometimes it was some rooftops, other times back of some training ground. Usually it would be him, Uraraka or Iida, sometimes even Aizawa-sensei who would go look for him and drag him back to the dorm.
Katsuki saw Izuku in the forest near the main building.
Izuku was smoking.
Sweet and kind Izuku, who had never dared to break even the smallest rule, was smoking.
Katsuki froze in his place. For so many years of knowing Izuku, Katsuki had never known that Izuku smoke.
His back was leaning against one of the trees as he sat on the ground, body hunching slightly, legs bended and arms resting on top of his knees. A lit cigarette held loosely between his pointer and middle finger in his right hand, thin smoke trailed upward lazily from the tip. Izuku was staring ahead, his eyes dulled and distant, as if in front of his eyes wasn't the green of leaves and grass.
Katsuki watched as Izuku slowly picked up his hand and brought the cigarette to his mouth, closing his eyes for a second as he took a drag. His hand fell back to the original position on his knees as he exhaled the smoke, eyes continuing to stare blankly at the sky.
Katsuki approached Izuku slowly. Hearing his footsteps, Izuku finally noticed him as he turned to look at Katsuki instead.
Now standing in front of Izuku, Katsuki saw his left hand clutching around a half empty box of cigarettes, the cardboard wrinkling in his grip. Izuku had been sitting here for a while.
Izuku looked up from where he sat, smiling awkwardly as he shoved the box into his pocket, his right hand moved frantically to behind his back to hide the lit cigarette:
“Hey, Kacchan… This is…”
Izuku's voice sounded rough. Katsuki raised an eyebrow:
“That shit is not good for your health.”
“Kacchan, I… Uh… This isn't…”
Izuku stuttered, seemingly trying to find some excuses.
“No need to fucking hide. I already saw everything.” Katsuki said as he sat down next to him, his shoulder touching Izuku’s.
Finally, Izuku sighed in defeat, right hand pulled out from behind his back, cigarette held between scarred fingers. He mumbled softly:
“Sorry, Kacchan.”
Izuku’s head leaned toward Katsuki, resting against his shoulder. He looked exhausted. From this close, Katsuki could smell the harsh scent of burned tobacco seeping into Izuku's hair and hoodie. They sat in silence as Izuku took another drag, watched as the smoke disappeared into the gray sky.
Finally, Katsuki asked:
“Since when?”
Izuku hesitated for a moment, but he answered anyway:
“Middle school.”
That surprised Katsuki.
Izuku explained:
“Tanaka's gang forced me to buy a package back in the first year…”
“Who the fuck is that?”
“He was in the same class as we were for the whole middle school, Kacchan! How did you miss him? You know, really tall, orange mohawk hair?” Said Izuku, his hands gesturing up and down trying to describe Tanaka.
“Was there any extra looking like that?” Katsuki rubbed his chin.
Izuku laughed as he punched Katsuki's lightly, making Katsuki snorted as well. Izuku laid his head on Katsuki's shoulder again before continuing:
“Him and his friends forced me to buy cigarettes, trying to get me into trouble and all that. The clerk probably saw them laughing outside the store and took pity on me, so she sold a package to me. Tanaka didn't think I'd actually be able to buy one, so they didn't know what to do with it. I kept it, too scared that someone might see me throw it away.”
Katsuki just hummed in acknowledgement, quietly listening to his boyfriend.
“I ended up trying for the first time in my room that night. It was so bad! I nearly hacked my lungs off,” Izuku laughed sarcastically. “It's a miracle my mom never found out.”
An image popped up in Katsuki's mind. 12 years-old Midoriya Izuku, small and short and scrawny and not yet even a teen, shakily lit up a cigarette with his tiny fingers in the dark bedroom, then nervously took the first ever drag in his life, before breaking down into a mess of coughing, tears streaming down his face from the burning sensation of smoke in his lungs as he desperately tried to hide them away from his mother.
“Auntie would probably whoop your ass by now if she knows.” Katsuki commented.
“Oh, she’d definitely kill me.” Agreed Izuku.
Katsuki gently laid his right hand on top of Izuku’s left one, fingers stroking lightly along the rough scars.
“Why continue?” He asked.
Izuku stayed silent for a bit longer this time.
“I managed to quit when I started training at the beach with All Might,” He said instead, not answering the question. “Things were getting better. I got to train with my favorite hero, got into my dream school, and was actually making friends!”
Izuku pulled out a portable ashtray from his hoodie's pocket, flicked it open and let the clump of ash forming at the tip of the cigarette fall inside. Katsuki saw 5 more stubs inside the tray, fresh ones. He was right; Izuku had been here for a while.
“But then…” He trailed off.
“The League of Villains.” Katsuki finished the sentence for him. Izuku nodded.
“The night… The night All Might retired…” Izuku swallowed thickly, his voice a bit shaky as he admitted. “I couldn't help it. I tried to quit again, but I just… can't. Not with all the things that happened after that.”
Izuku squeezed Katsuki's hand tightly as he took another shaky drag, then another, then another. Katsuki said nothing, his thumb still stroking soothingly and rhythmically along Izuku's hand.
Izuku finally lowered the stick again, and turned to bury his face into Katsuki's crook of shoulder.
“My therapist suggested some other methods to cope instead. Nothing works, though.” Izuku mumbled into Katsuki's shoulder. “I just gotten so used to smoking that I have no idea how else I could deal with all this raging stress.”
Clouds continued to roll on top of their heads. The cigarette finally burnt to the stump. Izuku shoved it into the ashtray, closed it, then slid it back inside his pocket. He hesitantly pulled out the cigarette package, shaking another stick out, but then sighed tiredly and shoved it all back to his pocket. His hands were trembling.
“I knit.” Katsuki said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Izuku raised his head up to look at him with confused eyes.
Katsuki scratched the back of his head, feeling his face heating up from embarrassment as he said:
“Whenever I'm too fucking stress, I knit shits. Scarfs. Hats. Socks.”
“Gloves?” Izuku asked curiously.
“Of course gloves, too! Who the fuck do you think I am, nerd?” Katsuki grunted, making Izuku giggled in surprise.
“So the gloves you gave me last time was actually you who made it?”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“You should've told me! That's really sweet, Kacchan!” Izuku smiled brightly. “Thank you!”
“Shut up!” Katsuki yelled, his face as red as a tomato now. “I fucking hate knitting at first. Snapped a bunch of wooden needles before the old hag couldn't take it anymore and bought me a metal one, threatening that she'd fucking ground me if I destroy this one.”
Izuku hummed:
“But now you're knitting.”
“Yeah.”
He didn't need to continue after that. Izuku got the message after all.
“Come on, nerd. The idiots are making Katsudon for dinner.”
Katsuki stood up, holding out his hand for Izuku. He smiled:
“Okay, Kacchan.”