Chapter Text
The day of Izuku Midoriya’s funeral is rainy and wet. Katsuki absolutely hates the rain. And Katsuki hates Izuku Midoriya. It was fitting. For Katsuki, rain only dampened his quirk, leaving him unable to fight, and quite frankly, miserable. That’s who Izuku was to Katsuki. Someone who dampened him. Someone who left him miserable.
If Katsuki even cares to think about it, he imagines a great many tearful people would be at Izuku’s funeral, their numbers and tears proving that maybe, his life meant something; but Katsuki would not be among them. He didn’t attend his wake last night, either.
He stayed within the dorms the entire time. Katsuki supposes one boy in particular could’ve forced him to go, but Katsuki considers himself lucky that the boy can’t, since that boy is no longer in this world. Neither Katsuki’s parents or the UA staff possess the authority or the personal duty to ask him to come. He was able to make his own decision and stick to it. Like he always does.
Seeing as Katsuki is still in high school, he would’ve had to go to class whether or not anyone asks him to. But Izuku died in the middle of a nation-wide war, leaving nothing to force Katsuki out of his personal training sessions and out into the rainy weather.
It’s morning, and Katsuki ignores the stares of his classmates within the dorms as he arrives in the common room. He scrounges together a lunch with little care for diet, before holing himself up in his room. If you think that Katsuki is seeking solitude out of feelings of sadness or the emptiness of loss, you’re mistaken.
Katsuki has always been the type to choose solitude. He would simply stay in his room unless he had to go to school, go on a jog, use the training grounds, or if that boy dragged him out to train with him.
When Katsuki is in his room, he’s mostly listening to music and working out. He didn’t care for pop songs on the radio, or any specific artist- But if the song had drums, lots and lots of drums, he’d listen to it. He liked the way the music would drown out his thoughts, the world around him. And sometimes, he’d play on the electric drum kit sitting to the side of his room, creating his own noise. It felt like using his explosions in a way that didn’t blow up everything around him.
Today, however, Katsuki is lying on his bed reading an old pre-quirk era comic book he’d borrowed from a collection Izuku’s father had left behind. He has a whole box sitting by his bed. Since Katsuki and the rest of 1-A were busy being heroes-in-training, it had been sitting collecting dust for a while now. He had managed to read a few, and intended to finish them and return them before Izuku died, but Katsuki was too late.
Katsuki can’t change that now. He figures he’ll return the collection to Izuku’s mother- Inko-san, when he’s finished. Katsuki will hold off paying his respects to her until then.
By the time Katsuki finishes the collection, it’s evening. At some point, he closed the curtains and turned on his ceiling light so he could still see. His phone rings, and only then does Katsuki notice the passage of time.
The call is nothing important, just Shitty-hair. Katsuki ignores him. He calls a second time, and Katsuki ignores him again. The third time, Katsuki assumes it must have something to do with the rest of the class having dinner downstairs, so he picks up the phone, mutters an “I’m fine,” and hangs up.
Before he returns his phone to his desk, Katsuki realizes something. He hasn’t so much as touched his device in over two weeks. He doesn’t think he’s been purposely avoiding it, but he just never thought about picking it up. If that holds some deeper meaning, he doesn’t know, and doesn’t care.
He turns on his phone and scrolls to the texts. Tons of notifications, many of which are from 1-A, a few from his own family, all of them hardly a surprise. Next, he scrolls past all of the messages of concern, and looks at his most recently sent text.
It was a message sent to the boy who had once been alive.
Just one sentence.
Left on delivered, Katsuki will never know the boy’s response. They never had the time to talk about it.
Katsuki considers going down to eat with the rest of 1-A, but instead flops back into the bed. All he can think about is what he sent to him.
What if Izuku got the chance to see it?
[+278]
you won. i’ll let you eat my pancreas.
If he did ever get to see it, how would he take it?
Katsuki falls asleep, still trying to find an answer.
He’s not sure, but he thinks that he meets the boy in his dreams.