Yes, Maybe, No | BakuDeku ✔

chapter-26

It wasn't feasible for Izuku's new boyfriend to accompany him through the challenges posed by his mother. Given her strict control, Izuku realized he couldn't have anyone by his side during these trying times. Thus, he resolved to bear the heartache alone and depart without bidding Katsuki farewell.

Slowly extricating himself from Katsuki's embrace, Izuku quietly slipped off the bed to change his clothes. He anticipated severe consequences for leaving home without notifying his mother of his whereabouts, bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation. Once dressed, he retrieved a piece of paper from Katsuki's small desk and penned a note, placing it by the bed for Katsuki to discover upon awakening.

Izuku gazed at the folded paper bearing Katsuki's name in the center. His eyes drifted to Katsuki's peaceful sleeping face, and a faint smile tugged at his lips though tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He didn't want to leave Katsuki; in fact, he yearned to whisk him away and build a life filled with love, marriage, and happiness—but not yet. Right now, Izuku's foremost priority was to complete his college education and lay the foundation for his future, and to achieve that, he couldn't afford any distractions.

With a gentle kiss on Katsuki's cheek, Izuku departed from his studio in the middle of the night. He made his way to the bus station, his heart racing. Tremors shook his hands, his throat grew dry, and sweat beaded on his forehead. He despised the power his mother held over him, the control she wielded with ease. Though Izuku entertained the idea of seeking help from the police and disclosing the decade of abuse he endured, he lacked evidence. Time had eroded any tangible proof, leaving only scars on his thighs, legs, and arms that couldn't directly tie back to his mother's—not to mention he needed her to pay for college. 

Izuku began to weep silently, his hands covering his face as tears streamed through the gaps between his fingers, trickling down his legs. He loathed the depth of emotion Katsuki stirred within him. The realization that he could no longer be with his partner weighed heavily on him, compounded by the regret of missing out on what could have been a fantastic night together—the burden he felt he placed on Katsuki only added to it.

As Izuku sat on the bus, lost in his thoughts and drowning in sorrow, he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness gnawing at him from within. Every passing moment felt like a stab in his heart, a reminder of the pain he was leaving behind. Yet, he couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of relief that washed over him, knowing that by leaving, he was sparing Katsuki from the turmoil of his inner demons.

Before he realized it, Izuku reached his apartment building. Stepping outside, he wiped away his tears and clenched the straps of his backpack until his knuckles paled. He hesitated, staring at his apartment window, apprehensive about what lay ahead. "You've got this. Tonight marks the end of the pain," he whispered to himself, mustering the courage to ascend the stairs leading to his mother's apartment.

Inserting his keys into the lock, Izuku turned them and pushed the door open. As he stepped inside, he sensed the weightiness of the atmosphere. His mother sat at the small kitchen island, her gaze fixed on Izuku. She idly twirled a glass in her hand, her smirk widening as she sighed heavily.

"Heh, I didn't expect you to flee," she began, avoiding eye contact and returning her attention to the glass in her hand. Downing the remainder of its contents, she rose from her seat and approached Izuku. "After everything I've done for you? After all the support I've given, you choose to run away?" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"I didn't run away, Mom. I stayed at a friend's house," Izuku quickly fabricated a lie, though he knew she wouldn't buy it. He couldn't even meet her eyes as he spoke. Izuku felt fear wash over him when Inko gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Mm, I'm not convinced," Inko remarked with a sly grin. "I believe you're deceiving me, sweetie," she persisted, using her index finger to tilt his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her smile faded into a stern expression.

Izuku lapsed into silence. Confronted by his mother's gaze, he grappled with the weight of his decision to distance himself from Katsuki, even though it tore him apart. Determinedly, he suppressed the lump in his throat and forced a smile despite the tears welling in his eyes.

"You caught me," Izuku conceded, his smile faltering as tears streaked down his cheeks, mingling with the bitter taste of defeat. The familiar sting of her palm against his cheek ignited a fiery flush in his face as she seized him by the ear, dragging him to his room, his duffle bag slipping off his shoulder, a silent witness to his surrender.

She hurled him onto the bed with another stinging slap, his body trembling with fear as he perched on the edge, the impact reverberating through his bones. Despite the pain, a strange chuckle escaped him, surprising even himself. To his amazement, his mother scoffed at the sound, her disdain palpable. Meeting her gaze, he felt a shift within him. Fear no longer dominated his eyes; instead, there was a glimmer of something else—relief. Relief that after tonight, everything would finally be alright. All he had to do was endure a little longer, and then he could break free from this cycle of abuse.

The next day arrived, and Izuku lay in his bed, shifting from side to side, gently rubbing his arms to soothe the ache of the bruises inflicted by his mother the night before. As his seven am alarm sounded, a glimmer of determination flickered in Izuku's eyes. At that moment, he made a silent promise to himself: from here on out, everything would be okay.

Izuku got dressed for school, his phone buzzing with a notification bearing Katsuki's name. With a heavy sigh, he silenced all messages for the day and prepared to face the day ahead. Waving goodbye to his mother, Izuku set off for school, a sense of impending change lingering in his mind. Deep down, he knew this was how it had to be. Surrendering to his mother's facade was just a means to an end, a strategy to escape her grasp as quickly as possible.