Blame it on me

Blame it on me chapter 3

Shouta stared at the boy as he backed away, looking scared as ever. He felt a different kind of pain looking at the kid now that he read the files. All he wanted to do was somehow let him know that he was finally safe. That nobody was ever going to get the chance to lay a finger on him. That he did not deserve all that suffering his life has been filled with.

But how was he supposed to make Katsuki believe him when all he ever received from adults was pain? How was he supposed to show him what a loving home was like when he flinched at every movement?

Even now, the boy was staring up at him like he was a ghost. Shouta realized he had to speak up unless he wanted the kid to faint in fear, so he went with the first thing that came to mind.

"What's wrong, small fry?" He asked as walked into the room and opened the cabinet above the sink as if he had something to do instead of staring at the kid, who stayed silent and backed away from him. Shouta hummed questioning when he received no answer as took a small paper box out and lifted off his capture weapon of his shoulders.

"N-Nothing." Came the soft answer from the blond.

Shouta unzipped his top and dropped it into the laundry basket as asked: "Why you up then?" Trying to appear casually collected while wondered if the kid found him more threatening now that he saw he had muscle mass, since all that was left to cover his upper body was a tank top.

"I was just thirsty." Katsuki whispered.

"I was thinking we could go shopping tomorrow to get you some stuff." Shouta said as opened the paper box and took out a few pain relief patches. He put two onto each side of his trapezius.

Katsuki watched him silently for a few seconds before finally spoke up: "I have my own stuff."

"But that's not enough. I'm sure we'll find something you'll like." Shouta answered and the boy dug his hands into his pockets and looked to the side with a tired pout. "Sleep tight, Katsuki." He added and stumbled to bed.

When Katsuki came to, he felt something soft and warm draped over himself. He opened his eyes and looked around to once again realize he was in the corner of the same room he fell asleep in, not at home, not at the orphanage, just in a house he had no business in. He could've sworn he heard the door click when he woke up, but there was nobody else in the room. Then he realized he was tucked in with a blanket.

He sat up with aching ribs and squeezed his eyes shut as it was hard to breathe for long moments. His broken bones might have healed, but the pain always found it's way back to him somehow. Sleeping on the floor in the corner instead of the bed definitely didn't help, but Katsuki wanted to be as far from the nightstand as possible. Speaking of which, the ramen was missing from the nightstand, but there was another tray on the desk instead. If the comforter Katsuki was under wasn't enough evidence, now he was certain someone was in the room while he was asleep.

Katsuki stood up and walked closer with silent steps to see what's on it. There was a full set of traditional breakfast on it and a blue sticky note on an empty spot of the tray.

Good morning, Katsuki!

I left for work, but Shouta is sleeping downstairs. Please eat this, or if you don't like it, Shouta will make you something else when he wakes up and of course you can help yourself if you need anything. Please wake him if he doesn't get up by 11.

Have a nice day!

Hizashi

Katsuki stared at the note for a while, trying to think of a good reason why Hizashi would put effort into making him breakfast in the break of dawn. He glanced over at the food, seeing how the miso soup was still steaming and the o-nigiris looked quite appetizing. The tamagoyaki was colored by different kinds of greens and there was even some salmon to go with everything. Katsuki barely could recall the last time anyone willingly made him breakfast, especially this kind. He usually cooked for himself if he wanted to eat something normal and his parents weren't at home. He couldn't help but wonder what he possibly could have done to deserve this.