Yes, Maybe, No | BakuDeku ✔

chapter-23

"I wasn't always like this. There were moments of happiness when my mother was loving and attentive. She'd spoil me with anything I wanted and always be there to comfort me when I fell off my bike and scraped my knee. She'd cry with me during sad moments on TV... she was my everything. But then, everything started to change when my dad left," Izuku began, opening up to Katsuki about his past.

Katsuki cradled Izuku in his arms, his touch offering comfort as they remained seated on the terrace, gazing out over the cityscape. As Izuku poured out his heart, recounting the painful memories, Katsuki listened attentively, his gentle rub on Izuku's left arm conveying reassurance and support. "My mom thought it was all over for us. I feared the same," Izuku confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "And when I saw her drunk for the first time, I panicked. She lashed out at me... and I couldn't stop it," he continued, tears flowing freely as the weight of past traumas washed over him.

Izuku continued to cry, finding solace in Katsuki's comforting embrace. As he allowed himself to release the pent-up pain he had carried for far too long, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. After a while, Izuku wiped away his tears and cleared his throat, gathering the strength to continue. "I got a job when I entered high school. I needed to get away from my mother; I couldn't bear the constant turmoil at home and the physical abuse. Every time I went to school, the teachers would look at me with concern because my bruises were all too visible..."

"It was so embarrassing. Everyone at school looked at me with pity; it was horrible. I hated it so much that one day, I rushed into the bathroom and had my first panic attack. Everything around me started to swirl, and the air grew thick. I passed out, but no one came looking for me when I didn't show up after ten minutes. And on that same day, I grabbed the sharpest knife I could find, in the middle of the night, and sliced it across my left wrist," Izuku recounted, his voice strained with emotion. He locked eyes with Katsuki, fearing he would see pity reflected on him. However, to his surprise, he only found sympathy and care in Katsuki's gaze.

Katsuki remained silent, grappling with the weight of Izuku's words. He had never experienced such pain and turmoil firsthand; his upbringing had been filled with love and stability. Feeling inadequate to offer words of comfort in such a situation, Katsuki chose instead to express his support through actions. He held Izuku tightly, bringing him close and guiding his head against his chest. There, Izuku could feel the steady rhythm of Katsuki's heartbeat, a silent assurance of his unwavering care and concern.

"And so, my cutting journey began," Izuku confessed helplessly, his cheeks stained with dried tears as he looked up with hopeless eyes. "I sometimes took sleeping pills to cope with my insomnia. It started when my mother began having episodes of crying and slamming things against the walls in the middle of the night. The fear that gripped my throat left my mouth dry. I was terrified, Katsuki. Terrified beyond measure," he admitted, finding solace in the comforting touch of Katsuki's hand against his face.

"And the worst part about this was that I had no one to turn to for help. I had Iida, my best friend, but I didn't want to burden him. My first girlfriend was too much; I couldn't even confide in her about this... so, I guess you could say cutting myself was a way of telling myself everything would be alright,"  Izuku expressed helplessly, the weight of his words heavy in the air.

Katsuki leaned in and gently kissed Izuku's temple, conveying through his touch that Izuku's confession was not a burden but a relief. It was a reassurance that he wasn't alone in navigating the darkness and uncertainty, that there was indeed light at the end of the tunnel, and that Katsuki stood on the other side, ready to offer his unwavering support. Words may have failed Katsuki, but his actions spoke volumes, expressing his love and commitment more profoundly than any verbal declaration ever could.