Still Don't Know My Name↲
Labrinth
"To make me exist, oh, stranger . . . Still don't know my name . . ."
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Katsuki knew that someone, somewhere truly believed that with time and patience grief would become more tolerable. That with time came the natural process of healing.
But how was he to still grieving the boy he loved; the boy he thought he had lost; the boy who returned; and the boy who had no memory of him. How was he supposed to go on living in the same penthouse with the boy who was his other half; the one who had no recollection of the ups and downs they had gone through throughout their childhood and teenage years; the one who had to live every second of every day not remembering the day they first said 'I love you'. Was there anybody out there who knew how to handle that?
For he had never truly stopped grieving, three, long, and torturous years had passed and no day was better than the last. Now, he was back—and Katsuki could not do anything but feel so selfish, ungrateful even . . . for even now the grieving did not stop. He had him physically, but there was no mental, no emotional.
Because he had forgotten everything.
He had spent countless nights sobbing, screaming, and mourning until his throat grew sore; until he had nothing but the physical pain to rely on rather than dealing with the war he had managed to conjure within his mind. Katsuki had spent one-thousand-nine-hundred-five days without Izuku in his life, without him there to kiss him after a long and dreary day in the recording studio, without him there to resurrect his goofy side when he was stressing over a song deadline. Without him there period.
And yet he was back and that still wasn't enough for him.
Quickly, he walked out of the guest room—closing the door behind him to give the younger time to unpack and settle in. That's when the guilt hit him.
It came fast and strong, purging his thoughts and emotions with such a prickling sensation festering in the base of his hollow chest. His lower lip begged for release as his teeth skid across it, deftly splitting a small crack which had formed hours earlier, until it bled. Yet he couldn't be bothered by the coppery taste that stained his tongue, for he felt nothing but the bitter selfishness of his actions and notions.
Izuku was back.
And while he didn't remember, Katsuki could help him remember. He had a chance at a love he never thought would be possible for him to get back, and he was sitting there wallowing in his self-dug hole of pity. How was that fair to Izuku? To the boy he loved, yet at the moment it was clearly unrequited. It wasn't his fault, so why put the younger through the torture of not finding that missing piece of himself—why not just help him?
Because there was always two things Katsuki Bakugou wanted more than anything he's ever wanted in his life:
For Izuku to be alive.
And for Izuku to be healthy.
His Izuku was back, damn it. Yes, he was not all the way there . . . but there was still hope.
"Uhm, Bakugou? Or—Katsuki?" Izuku's timid voice broke through the patched curtain his mind had sewn. Temporarily filling his lungs with air, giving his heart another moment to beat. "I know it's still really early, and I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to sleep. But is there anything important we have to do today? I know it's only the first day of us . . . well, you know—but I kind of expected televised interviews and podcasts and all that other shit," he chuckled sheepishly.
Finally, what seemed like forever. His happiness had returned to him once more. For the first in a goddamn long time, Katsuki was happy. He was finally able to peer through the drapes of bitterness, anger, and grief—and while he still knew that those feelings would return . . . at least he had something to overpower them for now. For this time. This moment.
Happiness carved out a small section in between the patches of his thick curtains, gleaming and shimmering prismatically. Again, he was well aware that this was temporary—that eventually he would have to find some way to deal with the festering heat of heartbreak and loss he allowed to build-up within him. But for now? Now, he was going to enjoy whatever time he could with the boy.
His mission in helping Izuku reclaim his memories had officially begun.
"No," Katsuki heaved a sigh, quickly swiping his tongue across his bottom lip in attempts to soak in the rest of the red liquid from before. "Is there anything you'd like to do today? Or do you have classes?"
Izuku shook his head, swaying from side to side as his eyes dances across the inked skin of Katsuki's tattoos. "No classes for two days, so, I'm good." what he really wanted was to get started on his art project as soon as possible.
He had purchased a rather large sketchbook yesterday specifically for said project, a total of eight-hundred pages were collected in between the velvet black case of the sketchbook. Izuku felt as though it was more than enough for him to fill within the next three months. Hell, he already knew which specific part of the elder he wanted to begin studying.
"Do you want to draw me?" Katsuki asked, a knowing glint sparking within his eyes which had gone unnoticed by Izuku.
"Please?"
Another influx of energized beams coursed through Katsuki, blinding him of his pat worries as he was dragged by an overly-enthusiastic Izuku downstairs. The freckled male instantly walked past the kitchen, through the living room, stopping right outside the sliding door which led to the balcony-patio. A wave of the bitter air shrouded them both, only before warming them as the sun finally curved above the serene stream of clouds that dusted the sky white and gray and blue-violet.
The perfect lighting to capture the elder's frame.
"Okay," Izuku sighed as he placed his satchel on the small glass table outside. His eyes darted from here to there before setting on the small leather couch positioned in the corner. "Sit there, and just . . . lean back with your arms propped up on the back of the couch." he instructed, doing nothing to hide the eagerness from his voice.
Katsuki stifled a chuckle as he did as he was told, the sun battered against his back—eventually, beginning to sting yet he didn't dare move away. No, he would bathe in boiling lava if it meant Izuku got to draw him. He wasn't going anywhere.
The younger stepped back a few meters, a pleased smile erupting onto his face as the rays of sunlight shimmered luminously over the blond—casting a halo of light to contour and brighten his sharp features. But what he was most pleased about was the fact that he had recreated the exact same pose from when he had attempted to draw Katsuki the first time. When they met at the club.
"How did you get those damn tattoos?" Izuku voiced after a few moments of silence, the smooth charcoal tip of his pencil gliding across the paper as he sketched a soft outline of the male. "They're . . . frustrating."
A low chuckle rumbled in the base of Katsuki's throat. "'Frustrating?'" he mused eyes trailed over the younger. "How?"
"Because it's hard for me to draw them," his pencil dipped and curved into the defined muscles that flexed in the elder's chest, bending and lightening at certain areas. "It's like you specifically got them to give me a hard time or something." he laughed under his breath.
Katsuki ignored the gentle clench that twisted his insides. That's because you asked me to.
"I got my first tattoo when I was fifteen," Katsuki answered, You were thirteen.
"Oh?" Izuku hummed to himself as he fixated his gaze on the blond's eyes, which were swirling with unspoken words. After a few minutes of silently filling in some last details on the pose, Izuku got up, moving over to sit next to Katsuki.
"Alright, Little Picasso, what's the verdict?" the elder chuckled, albeit his eyes were trained intently on Izuku's face as he let his old nickname for him slip.
The younger froze, for a reason unbeknownst to him he was fleetingly paralyzed. His vision unfocused slightly as he took in the elder's words. Little Picasso. Echoes ruffled his hair in the wind, calling out his name in a dispersing chorus—chanting for him, pleading for him, sobbing for him. Izuku's brows buried against one another as he blinked rapidly, shaking his head before placing on a bright smile. That moment had gone just as quickly as it had come.
"Well," Izuku flipped the sketchbook over, watching with pure and undeniable delight as Katsuki's face lit up. "Keep in mind this is just a rough sketch, I was trying to play around with how to draw your features still."
However, Katsuki could not seem to care if Izuku had done a full-on portrait. It was amazing nonetheless. His eyes scanned over the little notes the boy had scrawled on the side, scribbled in unintelligible handwriting as arrows pointed towards specific parts of his body on the sketch.
Katsuki smiled. "You've gotten faster at drawing," he chuckled lowly to himself.
"Hm?"
"I said it looks nice, " Katsuki said with a sigh. "Do you want to keep going?"
"Yep," Izuku beamed as he pushed the blond back. "Lay down on your back and let one arm hang off the couch and the other behind your head. Okay look up, but angle your head towards—yeah, yeah, like that." he smiled softly as he inspected the pose Katsuki was lying in.
The red-eyed celebrity laughed out loud, his eyes briefly flickering towards Izuku. "Are you going to draw me like one of your French girls?" he asked, hoping the younger would at least get the reference.
Izuku smirked. "Yeah . . . but keep your clothes on," For now.
Hello Cricket Cultists!!
Can we talk about how much I loved this chapter?
I really love how I was able to play around with Katsuki's emotions in this. He was mourning Izuku, cried over him, shut people out after losing the love of his life only to have him thrown back in his lap with no memory of him. As much as I love my bb Bakuboi I knew this wasn't going to be easy for him.
He's conflicted. Finding it hard to focus on just one emotion when so many have been consuming him for so long, unfurling and blossoming now more than ever. On one had he's still grieving the boy he never truly lost and on the other hand he's excited yet sad that he's back with amnesia.
I fuckin' loved it.
Now, I really want to try and focus on Izuku--who honestly is a bit of a challenge. But I can't wait to delve into it.
Questions for me specifically?
Comments? Idk.
Until we meet again!!!