Weeks continue to go by without a single sign of Eijirou, and the longer time goes on and plunges us into winter, the more my hope in him dwindles.
"Can't have faith in someone who never fucking delivers," I mutter to myself, scuffing the toe of my shoe against the nearest brick wall as I'm taking a walk to get out of the house I've been cooped up in for a few weeks, letting my wounds heal. They're barely more than scabs now, and the peroxide Eijirou left us with kept infection away.
"Are you talking about, uh, him?" comes a voice to my right, breaking up the ringing in my ears, what with the cold stillness of the air before the snowstorm rolling its way in.
Ochako stands a few meters away, bundled up in an old blanket, her face reddened from the cold.
"Obviously," I quip, kicking the wall again.
"Do you really believe he'll come through?" she asks, padding silently toward me.
"Fuck if I know." I turn, lean my back against the wall, grateful I'm finally able to do it without excruciating pain, even if it's still a bit sore.
I hate that I don't know, and hate how much I want to believe that one way or another, Eijirou will eventually come through. But hell, I don't even know if the little fucker got home safely or whatever. I don't know anything, and it's infuriating—the hope especially.
"Don't be surprised if he doesn't," Ochako murmurs. "He is part of the royal family, after all. I know you said he's different, but—"
"I know," I snap. "But he's—" My teeth come together with an audible snap themselves, because I can't fucking tell her that. I can't tell her he's my soulmate, and that's the one thing I'm hinging on, the thing that's keeping that tiny spark of hope alive in all this bullshit, what with the storm rolling in.
Instead of asking me to finish my thought, Ochako says, "Who's that?"
My head snaps up and I follow her gaze down the road in the direction where there's still just a little sliver of blue sky managing to peek out from the thick blanket of the clouds waiting to dump a fucking blizzard on us. Sure enough there's the figure of a man walking along the sidewalk in our direction. Instantly I've stood up straight, planted both my feet firmly on the ground, and readied myself to take a defensive stance. It's blatantly clear by the way they're walking that they're not from around here, with the steady stride and bulky form.
The figure continues at a steady pace, and the closer they get the clearer they become—wearing a coat, a hat, and a pair of boots. It's not until they're maybe half a block away when I'm able to make out their face, and as soon as I do my muscles relax all at once.
"Holy shit," I whisper.
"What?" Ochako murmurs, squinting. "Is it—"
"No, not him. A friend of his. Name's Hanta. He was the guard who was stationed outside my cell at the palace."
"Really? What's he doing here?"
"How the fuck am I s'posed to know? Guess we're probably gonna find out, though."
My guard snaps back into place when I realize he might be here with bad news, or something worse, and I brace myself for whatever it is. We watch him come closer until his entire form is clear, and I make out the sack he has slung over his shoulder like fucking Santa Clause or someshit.
"Whoa, Katsuki?" he murmurs, slowing his pace once he can see me clearly, too. "Wow, guess it's my lucky day, huh? That I'd run into you so soon."
"What are you doing here?" I ask, eyes narrow.
"Um..." Hanta's eyes slide in Ochako's direction. "I'm not sure—"
"Whatever you gotta say is fine. She knows everything." Almost everything; I just have to hope to high fucking hell he doesn't know I'm Eijirou's soulmate or that, if he does, he doesn't say shit about it in front of her.
Ochako has a relatively defensive status herself, and is more or less glaring in his direction. It's a natural response, knowing he's from the royal palace and all. She says nothing.
"Okay, well... the prince sent me. Well, he asked me to come. I have some things for you," Hanta explains.
"Why the hell didn't he come himself?" I quip.
"He... can't," Hanta says hesitantly. "He got in a lot of trouble for sneaking out and coming down here with you. That's why he sent me to give you this stuff," he explains, letting the sack roll off his shoulder and plop onto the ground. "But he told me to tell you he hasn't given up and to just hold on a little while longer."
"And what, you're suddenly just okay with risking your job for us?" I ask, remembering how this dumbass was so afraid to lose his job over the prince simply sneaking down to the basement to meet me that first night I was caught. If that was something that put him at risk, I can't imagine what they'd do to him for this. After all, I do know firsthand just how brutal those royal bastards—save for Eijirou—can be. The proof is right on my friggen back.
"I was a little afraid at first, I'll admit," Hanta murmurs, "but the more the prince told me about what he experienced down here with you, and how desperate he seems to be to help you, I decided it must be worth it. Eijirou is one of my best friends, after all."
I cock a brow, finding that hard to believe. Just when I'm opening my mouth to question him further, there's a nudge on my shoulder from my left.
"Can we really argue with that?" Ochako whispers, her eyes still fixed on the sack. "No matter the reason, he still brought stuff. If it's anything like what you had before, we could use it."
She's right. As fucking skeptical as I am at this asshole who I pegged for little more than a selfish, desperate prick before, I can't argue. The annual panic of 'what the fuck are we gonna do when the weather gets bad' starting to set in, anyway, and Ochako has a point about it being useful, whatever's in that bag.
So I bite my tongue around the question still sitting on my tongue: 'what's in it for you?' and mutter a half-assed thanks. It elicits a smile from him, though. He hefts the sack up again—considerably bigger than the one Eijirou brought along—and closes the rest of the distance between us before letting it slide to the ground again for one of is to take.
"The fuck's in here, anyway?" I mumble, yanking open the top.
Clothes and shoes are at the bottom of the thing, taking up less than half of the space inside once I've dug far enough to reach it, but everything on top, making the damn thing high enough to reach mid-thigh on me, is a fuckton of non-perishable food. Cans, mostly, among some other shit I've never really seen before. Among it is another bottle of peroxide, a few bottles of different kinds of medications, and another roll of bandages. The only peculiar thing to me is a small cardboard box with my name scribbled onto the top, and it's the first thing I pull out.
"The fuck?" I mumble, working the flaps of the box as best I can and flipping it open. Inside of it is, lo and fucking behold, a cell phone. Next to it is some sort of heavy black brick wrapped in a cable. Underneath it looks to be a haphazardly folded up piece of notebook paper.
"It's uh, a phone," Hanta says.
"We know," Ochako says, looking over my shoulder at it. "What's it for, though?"
"Eijirou said he wants you to use it to contact him. It's kind of old but it still works, and he renewed the service on it so you can use it. The other thing's a portable battery so you can charge it, since he said you guys don't have much electricity."
I lift the phone out of the box so I can slide the notebook paper out. Unfolding it reveals a scribbled handwriting identical to the one that'd written my name on the top of the box. Sure enough, it's a letter from Eijirou himself but before I read it, I fold it back up. Who the fuck knows what's on it, and no goddamn way am I letting Ochako read it.
"He wants you to call him as soon as you can," Hanta goes on.
"Of course he does," I mutter.
"Yeah. Uh, anyway... sorry to cut it short, but I should get going. A storm is coming and I wanna make it back before it hits. I hope this stuff helps you guys." Hanta's backing up as he speaks. "Oh! And you should know that Eijirou doesn't break his promises, okay? He'll come through, but things are complicated so... try to hold out for as long as you can, yeah? See ya!"
At the last second before the idiot turns and starts to jog in the same direction he came from, Ochako has the mind to call out a rather befuddled 'thank you,' something that hadn't even crossed my damn mind.
———
When Ochako make our way back toward the main part of town, we weave together a lie about how we got the shit Hanta brought. In the end we decide to say we ran into a traveling charity event in Yagi City—one that's around the holidays, since for some stupid reason people tend to get more generous during this time of year—and they gave us some shit. As for the phone, I'm just going to have to do my best to keep that a secret and be grateful (in vain) that my mother is blind.
I wait until she's sound asleep to tiptoe into the main room of the house and sit next to the embers on the grill to turn it on. It's nothing but a simple flip phone, but it's more than I've ever messed with before, technology-wise. Typical fucking Eijirou, though, wrote nothing but instructions on how to use it on that piece of notebook paper like I'm some sort of fucking caveman. Dumbass...
The time reads 10:29 when it glows to life. Is it too fucking late to call him now? Should I even try? What the fuck is the point of this, anyway? Won't he just tell me the same damn thing Hanta did?
...apparently that's not enough to stop me, though. For some reason the thought of hearing his voice, even if it is through a shitty phone speaker, appeals to me. I slip through the door that leads to what was once a small kitchen and then into the unused bathroom in this tiny ass apartment-thing and shut the door—the only door left in this place (that's too damn small to fit the front door, go figure). The plumbing doesn't work and never has, and it's completely dark, but it's the one place I have to go during freezing ass weather to be alone for a change. As long as I'm quiet, Mom should stay sound asleep.
As stupid as I think it is, I plant myself on the floor and press 'OK' on the little green 'call' icon next to the only number registered in the damn thing. My heart fucking jumps like I'm some twelve-year-old the second it connects and the first ring meets my eardrum. For some reason I almost, almost hang up, but the second I'm about to, his voice comes through.
"Katsuki?"
"Hey, dumbass," I mutter quietly.
"Holy crap, it's really you!"
"Don't sound so fucking excited, you idiot. The fuck was the point of this, anyway?"
"I needed to talk to you, man, but I've been on lockdown since the second I got back. They won't let me out of the palace, and pretty much everywhere I go I have to have a guard freakin' babysitting me."
I can't help my snort. "Now you know how I felt."
It's quiet a minute, and then, "Yeah, I guess I do."
"So how'd they know where you were anyway, huh?"
"Well..." he mumbles.
"Hmph. Of course you fucking told them."
"I had to, Katsuki. If I had lied the odds of them letting me help you are even less than they already are. I told them everything because they needed to hear it."
"Fuck, Ei," I mutter, rubbing my forehead. "Lotta good that did, since you're all locked up and shit."
"...I know. I'm sorry."
I swallow, wincing as my dry throat protests. "You even tell 'em we're soulmates?"
"No. I kept quiet about that. Like I said before, I can't prove it unless you're here. And they think I'll just get over my... er, 'infatuation' of wanting to help you one of these days. But I'm not gonna back down."
"'Course you're not," I murmur. "You're too damn stubborn for that."
"Yep. Ya got that right."
Quiet falls over, and while it doesn't do much for my shitty ear issues, I can't think of a damned thing to say, nor do I want to hang up. There's a muted shuffling sound through the speaker (I think) and then light sigh before Eijirou does speak up again.
"D'you think I sent enough stuff? Like, will it help you for at least a little while?"
"Are you fuckin' stupid? Of course it will. I know how to ration, and Ochako and I already figured out what to tell everybody about where it came from."
"Good. I'm glad, man. I was getting worried." There's another pause, and then, "How's your back?
"'S fine. Better than it was, so you probably didn't need to send bandages."
"Glad to hear it. At least you have 'em now, though. Just in case."
"...yeah."
"Oh and um... there's a pretty big storm headed your way. Should hit in a few days. I don't think it'll be super cold but there'll be snow. So just... be careful."
"I know," I tell him. I always know when there's a storm rolling in; the ache of the bullet in my shoulder never fails to warn me, and it wasn't like Hanta didn't say someshit about it, too.
And then I'm saying it without warning. "Thanks."
"You don't need to, Katsuki. I'm just doing what's right. In fact, I wish I could be doing more, but I haven't figured out how to convince my family yet."
"Guess you got your stubbornness from your parents..."
Eijirou's voice drops, and I have to strain to hear him. "That's the thing, Katsuki. I think they'd be on board if it wasn't for my great uncle." The fleeting image of the old man who wanted to execute me for breaking into their palace flashes in my memory. "He's the one who clings so desperately to old traditions and despite what the public is told, he still has a lot of control over... pretty much everything. It's a generation thing. My family believes that the oldest among us is the wisest and therefore the most powerful. Thankfully, my mother's birthright was to assume the throne when her father passed away so he couldn't, and I'm really—" He cuts off suddenly.
"You're really what?" I hiss into the phone.
"I shouldn't say it on the phone."
"Dammit, Eijirou."
"I'm sorry. But I should probably let you go. You need to preserve the battery on that phone for as long as possible. I'll keep in touch, so can you make sure the phone is on at around sunset every day so I can call?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. I'll talk to you tom—"
"Wait," I mutter. "That shit's fine or whatever but... am I gonna fuckin' see you again?"
"Yes," he says, more relaxed. "I'm gonna do everything in my power to see you again. That's a promise."
"Alright, but if you break that promise you'll have to cut your damn pinkie off."
A light chuckle that sends a jolt through me—a pleasant one, although small (and gross—ugh), at that—sounds through the phone. "What?"
"...I'll explain some other time," I tell him. "Just don't get yourself into any more trouble or it'll fucking suck for everyone."
"I know, I know. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Yeah."
"Bye, Katsuki."
"...bye."
Once the call has cut and the phone has turned off, all I can seem to make myself do is pull my knees up, fold my arms over them, and use my forearms as a makeshift pillow for my forehead. An ache has settled itself in the core of my chest; something tugs at me—a slight compulsion to head in a specific direction. It's weak, but it's there and fuck, it's uncomfortable on top of my still-sore back and the headache that comes with the silence.
Behind my eyelids, he is there. Him and his stupid dimples and bright red hair, his eyes filled with curiosity and some sort of muted passion like he's always holding it back but can't completely contain it.
Is this the shit my mother feels all the time, what with my father being gone? This... heaviness, the ache of some bullshit longing sitting within her all the time? The urge to fucking follow him or find him, even though he's dead? Or am I just being fucking dramatic because, whether or not it has to do with the soulmate phenomenon or not, I actually fucking like Eijirou, I respect him, and I actually do want to see his stupid, pretty face again?
The thought flashes through my brain like lightning, so quick I almost miss it but still bright, still so profound that I do catch it. I realize that, even if he wasn't going to help me—help those of us here in The Outskirts, I still want to see him again. Desperately. And that's the moment I realize I'm really and truly fucked.