Halfway to the Moon

Dawn (Pt. 2)

 The rest of the day passed relatively normally. Kacchan was a tad distant, but otherwise it was as if nothing had happened. No awkward talks with teachers inbetween classes, no abnormal pointed looks from Kacchan or his goons, no teasing remarks from his classmates or shouts of ‘Gay!’ down the corridors.

 

 Izuku was almost disappointed. He knew he shouldn’t be too surprised by his recent revelation, it’d probably been a long time coming, but it was, nonetheless, something big. Something important, at least to him. To have it be brushed under the rug so easily, like it was nothing...

 

 Izuku sighed, shoulders slumping forward as he hauled his ten-ton feet through the school exit. He needed to clear his head, and so he directed his path towards the beach. Running into the open sky with soft sand under his feet and the gentle woosh of waves hitting the shore was the kind of calmness he needed right then.

 

 He’d started running a little while ago. Giving up cutting had been hard. He did it, because he’d made a promise, and because Kacchan had offered alternatives, but that didn’t mean he never thought about it. There were nights he peeked under the bathroom sink, eyes searching for a little black box despite the knowledge it wasn’t there anymore.

 

 There were times it was hard, and he didn’t feel like he could talk about it, so he’d found a new way to cope: running.

 

 The burn in his pumping legs always helped distract him from the mental anguish, kept him focused on the present moment and nothing else, and he’d just naturally gravitated towards the beach. It was the place he had started really chasing his dream, a symbol of his effort and every time he looked over at it he was reminded of the future he was finally allowed to have. It was his happy place.

 

 So Izuku exchanged his brisk walk for a jog and shot off towards the beach.

 

 Though even with the intense ache that built in his driving legs, even with the sun beating harshly down on his sweaty freckled skin, he couldn’t stop thinking of that sharp jawline and those calloused palms. Blood red eyes penetrated his thoughts and a voice like gravel lingered in fleeting fantasies.

 

 And even when he eventually dragged himself- tired and damp- to work, his head was full of Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan. Realizing his true feelings for Kacchan had only made all of his feelings towards him swell, surging forth to reign the foreground now that they had access.

 

 Izuku sighed. He really had no self-preservation instincts, did he?

○•

 

 Rough, tattered leather scratched Katsuki’s knuckles with every harsh impact, every fierce swing of his arm. His hands were bruised and battered from hours spent just wailing on the poor old punching bag that hung from a tree in his backyard. The rope groaned with each hit, no more happy about the abuse than the beat up leather or Katsuki’s swollen fingers.