Best Part↲
Danie Caesar ft. H.E.R
"Where you go I follow . . . If you love me, won't you say something?"
≡
Izuku relaxed slightly into the arctic touch of Todoroki's hand, very pleased that it was his friend that had walked in and not . . . No, he wasn't ready for him just yet. Hell, he wasn't ready to face these confusing revelations on his own, let alone face Katsuki Bakugou: the cause of it all.
Albeit, Ashido looked anything but pleased to see the duel-haired male. Her shoulders had squared and her jaw went taut, eyes sharp and keen as she eyed the male. Feeling the uncontrollable urge to get up and kick him in . . . well, a not-so-sunny place.
"Hello, Ashido. Apologies for barging in like this, but I need to speak with Midoriya," he explained politely, noticing the obvious glare plastered on her face. "If that's all right with you?" an eyebrow shot up.
Shakily, Izuku places the box down, getting up with weak limbs and a confused mind. He tried to swallow, finding his mouth to be uncomfortably dry and aching—like a wildfire ripping through his throat. The voices from his two friends had been placed beneath a thick film, coming out muffled and incoherent to his ears. Not that he cared.
He was . . . fuck, he didn't know what he was.
Confused?
Shocked?
Upset?
It all blurred together into one jumble of emotions, rendering him speechless, thoughtless, numb. He staggered out the dressing room, probably muttering an apology to Ashido on the way out—or maybe he didn't. He wasn't paying attention to what he was doing exactly, his body had switched gears and was now operating on auto-pilot. The real Izuku had been buried deep within the walls of uncertainty and such mind-numbing bewilderment.
And as he staggered out into the cool hallway—eyes defocused, breathing shallow, and skin that rippled with discomfort—he shuddered a breath. A breath of relief? A breath of aching shock? Again, he wasn't sure at this point . . . nothing nor no one could even begin to try and make sense of any of this.
Nobody but the one boy he didn't want to see.
"—Midoriya?"
Izuku pressed his back against the wall, feeling the prickling sensation in his skin erupt and manifest into something far greater. Eating away at his coherency.
"Midoriya, are you all right?"
A finger looped tightly around his curl, tugging down as if tugging away at his previous thoughts. He shook his head with vehemence, the trenches of his mind burning and throbbing causing his head to swirl. And just as he felt the weighted desire to faint another cool hand pressed against his forehead . . . Todoroki.
"Sorry," Izuku mumbled, ". . . I was feeling a little nauseated. I didn't eat much today," the lie burned, slipping off his tongue and he instantly regretted it.
Todoroki blinked. Once. Twice. Seeming unconvinced yet he didn't press for answers. "Well, you should get some food in you—but I didn't come here to discuss that." he shook his head, as if trying to remember what brought him there.
"Then what did you need, Todo?"
"Oh, that's right. Your mother—"
Another throbbing ache illuminatingly made itself known once more, a brief flash of memories slipping through. It dissipated just as quickly as it had been brought on.
" —she called me. I don't know how she obtained my number but . . . well, Izuku she's in the hospital. She said she had been attempting to reach you all day but never could," he explained, a flicker of empathy for his friend washing onto his face before inevitably being replaced with his usual monotonous expression.
"Is—" he paused, unsure how to breathe. "—is she okay?" the questions felt wrong slipping off his tongue like it needed to hold more concern and affection.
Whereas he sounded robotic.
Noticing this, Todoroki stares at the boy intently before slowly nodding his head. "The doctors said it was alcohol poisoning. She had a seizure at work . . . but they managed to help her before it became too fatal,"
Izuku blinked. Once. Twice. Auto-pilot had soon clicked on once more in his brain, plastering on a weak smile onto his face. He heard himself whisper a small okay and a thank you, though the actions never processed completely in his mind. Before he could stop himself, before he could regain a snippet of control, Izuku watched idly as his body began moving away from a confused Todoroki.
He walked stiffly into the banquet hall, past bustling workers eagerly setting up and early-arriving guests who discussed business strategies. Right past Katsuki who gazed at Izuku with knitted brows.
An excuse, that was what Izuku had, an excuse to get away from it all.
It didn't come as much as a surprise that his mother had done something so stupidly naïve such as getting alcohol poisoning. The notion seemed rather logical—which was the only thing surprising considering his state of mind.
A shiver erupted through his spine, either from the cold air that nipped his skin as he opened the back door to go outside or from the warm hand firmly grasping his shoulder. His eyes slipped close and he shuddered, for that wasn't Todoroki. No, he recognized that blazing heat anywhere.
"Katsuki,"
The floor swayed underneath the gentle touch of Izuku's feet, barely holding him in place.
Concern sunk its claws deep within Katsuki's core, each fragment desperately wanting to reach out and grab Izuku. Questions swirled through his mind, just as they did Izuku's. Albeit his questions were laced with unease for Izuku's current well-being.
"Hey," the elder whispered softly, tugging at Izuku's rigid shoulder. "You okay?"
Silence.
"Izuku, c'mon what is it—?"
"My mother's in this hospital," he interjected, again sounding robotic. "I have to go. I'm sorry,"
A sharp eyebrow slowly rose upward, Katsuki sputtered for words. "Wait I—what the fuck happened to her?"
"Alcohol poisoning . . . again,"
Inhaling deeply with the sense that something else was wrong, Katsuki wraps an arm around the boy. Again, finding his body to go rigid as he touched him. "What else is it? I know something else is wrong . . . Is it all the cameras outside? Because if so I can find a way to get them to go away—"
Izuku shifts from under him. "Why does Ashido have pictures of me from when I was young?" he demands, eyes blank and unreadable. "Why does she have pictures of me and all of you guys when we were young?"
Fuck.
. . . Double fuck.
Triple fuck!
Katsuki released a shallow breath, one he was aware of holding yet never bothered to let go of. Hoping he would pass out and wake up—finding this all to be a dream. It wasn't supposed to happen like this . . . he was supposed to tell Izuku on his own accord, unrepairable and potential brain damage be damned. Fuck.
"Shit," he murmured. "Look I can explain that—"
Izuku spun on his heel. "Can you?" he growled, converting the myriad of emotions into the only way he knew how at the moment: anger.
Anger with himself for not understanding. Anger with Katsuki for keeping such a thing for him. Anger with the world for making him feel like a damn idiot. Izuku was pissed, and had every right to be in his opinion.
"I mean what the hell is that? That's me but that doesn't—none of this . . . Damn it!" with his teeth tearing through his lip and nails digging into his palms Izuku grounds himself. "Who the hell are you people and why the fuck do you have those pictures? What logical reasoning could you possibly have to make any of that okay?"
With a deep and exhausted sigh, Katsuki opens his mouth, yet again finding himself at a loss for words. Words he had imagined he would one day get a chance to say and now here he was—finally with the opportunity to do so and he was freezing up. Something that didn't happen often.
"It's hard to explain," Katsuki choked out, rubbing his face harshly. "Just sit down and let me try."
Every nerve in Izuku's body screamed and thrashed at the elder's words, pulling him a few paces back until there was a noticeable distance between them. A severed interval, one that had been there long before Izuku was aware of it. That space between them burned through Katsuki—stabbing him harder than any words Izuku could possibly say to him.
Reminding him again, and again, time after time, what he had lost.
"No," Izuku shook his head. Damn it every nerve, piece of tissue, and the sensations that came along with it were set on fire. Lit aflame and put into hype focus on all the things happening around him. "My mother's in the hospital, we can talk about this later."
. . .
. . .
Katsuki stilled his breathing, any auditory sensation, placing a barrier between his mind and any coherent and cogent thoughts. The bones of his knuckles popped and flexed as he balled his hands tightly at his sides. Everything around him from the birds in the trees to the influx of air pushing into Izuku's mouth seemingly slowed.
This was it, his moment of reckoning—as if history had been repeating itself on a constant loop. For it all started with his mom slowly yet surely securing a grasp around Izuku, tugging and pulling him inch by inch until he was away from Katsuki. Until he was dead.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
No, he couldn't let this happen again—he wouldn't.
"Your mother is the reason you don't remember anything," Katsuki said steadily, deathly calm by his tone of voice. He watched carefully as Izuku paused yet again in his tracks, shoulder's still braced tensely. "Tell me, Izuku, what did you do for your thirteenth birthday? Hm, your fourteenth? Fifteenth . . . You don't remember, do you?"
The same blistering heat from before came hurdling back through Izuku's head as he let the words sink in. Trying to make sense of all the disparate pieces of information he had gathered along through his head, none of them having any connecting points—only adding fuel to the fire. Why couldn't he remember?
No, this had to be a trick. He couldn't let himself fall for it—he wouldn't let himself fall for it.
"I. Have. To. See. My. Mother," he snarled, barely sparing Katsuki a glance. "Let it go, Bakugou."
Katsuki saw red, felt red, tasted red. How could he have let this happen again, how could he have let the love of his life slip through the cracks when he was so close? "What your mother the alcoholic? Your mother who emotionally abused you? You have to go see that mother?"
He scoffed, carding his fingers through his hair. "You know just when I think you're starting to make smarter choices, Izuku . . ."
"What?" Izuku challenges, "I start making 'smarter choices' the what? What happens, Katsuki, since you're just such an expert on me and my life!"
"That's because I fucking am!"
Katsuki tautly stood there, eyes blazing with such volcanic intensity and hurt, anger, betrayal. His words ricocheted off every possible building, landmark, plant, and animal within the area. No doubt reaching the ears of a few of the guests who lingered too close towards the back of the banquet hall. And yet . . . despite all the passion he attempted to put into his words that still seemed to not be enough.
Izuku was stubborn, and the resolve he had come to was clear in his eyes.
Wordlessly, the younger spun on his heel, darting off into a sprint in the other direction.
The light danced with promise and new beginnings as the moon and stars dipped well below the horizon where the sun once rested. A faint crackle of chatter and laughter barely scathed the boy's ears as his feet pounded against the stone tiles—for the noises shrouding him had become so minuscule to the current problem brought on before him. As he ran the cluster of people began to fade; his distractions became a distant memory; his rage, confusion, and hurt continued to boil and fester.
It festered for far longer than he had initially imagined possible. He was close to his tipping point at any moment now.
Pulling to a halt he finally allowed his main senses to regain control of his body, finding himself standing in the middle of a small stone bridge. Something from out of a fairy tale. Short and ragged spouts of air pushed and wheezed past his parted lips—flowing as inconsistent and unpredictable as the river below him. That when he heard it—
A new set of footfalls thundering against the stones he once graced.
"Piss off," he growled at the newcomer, tiny fists balling up at his sides.
The elder held his chin high, eye sharp with irritation. "No. You know, you've been a real pain in my ass the past few days,"
He had to get his point across to the boy somehow, and if compassion and empathy weren't going to work . . Well, he would try a different approach. The Katsuki way.
"Oh really—" the younger spun on his heel, "—then why the hell are you still here, Katsuki?"
With a set jaw Katsuki stepped forward. "You know why,"
"No . . . I don't know why. I don't know anything at this point, and it's really starting to piss me the fuck off!" his words ricocheted off the trees and water, bouncing back at him in an anger-filled chorus.
It was silent for a few beats while Katsuki tried his best to contain some of the bile and pain resurfacing onto his tongue. His heart—the wild and untamed beast—had begun clawing and tearing at its confinements. The picture set before him swayed and contorted, everything was happening so fast.
Too fast.
"Well, if you just calm the fuck down and let me explain then maybe you'd understand," he scoffed, albeit it had begun to sound more like a plea than anything else.
Though it seemed no matter what he tried Izuku had already reached his verdict. His words made no difference for the resolve coursing through him. "I should have never agreed to this . . . to any of this!"
"Yeah, but you did. You want to know why? Because you took it upon yourself to take care of a woman who doesn't give two shits whether or not you live or die!" Katsuki shot back, "That's just being a plain idiot, Izuku,"
Izuku scoffed. "Takes one to know one I guess,"
Ignoring his comment the elder takes a few steps forward once more. "I mean . . . what the fuck is wrong with you?" he voiced, "Do you enjoy forming emotional attachments to people who end up hurting you instead of loving you. Is that what you like—what're you masochistic or something?"
"What the hell do you know about love, Katsuki?" Izuku growled, "You're just some spoiled little rich boy looking to make it big on his social media with his fans. You don't know shit about love, and you sure don't know shit about me!"
Stunned to silence, Katsuki staggers back. Finally, unable to keep the weight that he had been harboring at bay—slowly and painfully . . . it all came back to him.
"You don't know what it's like to be loved and appreciated!"
Izuku kissed Katsuki on the tip of his nose. "I'm so proud of you,"
"You don't know what it's like to only have one person be there in your life, whether it's good or bad!"
Izuku carded his fingers through Katsuki's hair, the thumping of his heart slowly lulling the sixteen-year-old male to sleep. "I promise to never leave your side, Katsuki Bakugou."
"My mother, my friends, they are all I have—and someone like you will never understand that. I don't know who this boy you keep mentioning is . . . but it sounds to me like he dodged a bullet when he dropped dead,"
He was too late. Katsuki had finally realized that, and this time when Izuku turned to walk away . . .
He let him go.
—————❖—————
Time had done its due diligence as Izuku forced himself down the teeming streets of Tokyo, random pedestrians who passed by completely impervious to the war and conflict thrashing in Izuku's mind. The canvas of his face painted a rich shade of obscureness. Blank and unreadable.
All color from his freckle-clad cheeks had faded and silenced, losing its usual rosy hue in replacement of pale skin. Emerald lakes known as his eyes lowered and coted with fatigue, polluting the vibrancy they once held. The unrelenting fire in his head never once died down, causing the floor below him to become distorted and misshaped—as if he were looking at it through a kaleidoscope.
A hazy fog trickled in through the fiery headache, turning that heat into smoldering flames. However, before he could even begin to fathom what was going on a series of buzzing rattled against his left leg. His phone.
Quickly scanning over the caller ID to find his mom's number he sighed, answering it seconds later.
"Damn it, Izuku, I have been trying to reach you all day! I'm in the hospital, you know? Fighting for my life, and where is my son? Out, running around chasing some celebrity like a little whore!" the screeching of her voice did nothing to calm his headache. "Where the hell are you? Are you almost here?"
"No, mom," he said calmly, running a hand down his neck. "I just have to pick up a few things and I'll be on my way."
Inko heaved a sigh on the other line, a few incoherent words and the static of her shuffling barely reaching his ears. "I just don't understand . . ." her voice broke, thus breaking a little piece of him along with it. ". . . why you didn't answer the first time I called. I've been sitting in this hospital for hours, scared to death with these doctors poking at me and asking all these questions. You know how my anxiety gets,"
Izuku bit his lip, searing over the blotchy flesh he already tore off earlier. "I'm sorry, mom, please don't cry. I'll be there as soon as I can, I promise . . . do you want me to bring you anything?" he asked tentatively, guilt eating away at him.
"Just hurry the hell up," Inko demanded, a slight hiccup in her voice throwing off her soft sobbing.
"Okay, I—" the line cut off.
Raking a hand through his hair, Izuku reluctantly enters the lobby to the penthouse. Walking past the concierge without so much as a hello, violently pressing the numbers in the elevator until the doors closed. As if his rapid pushing would make them go faster.
A groan resonated through his chest, lips, into the silence of the elevator ride. He firmly pressed his fingers to his temples, massaging them as his headache picked up its pace. The mechanical lift came to a halt on the correct floor with a painful ding, sending his flames into overdrive as he staggered out.
The halls, as they usually were, had remained vacant and unmoving of anybody else. If he hadn't been in such intense pain he would have wondered aloud if anybody else lived on this floor. Fishing in his pocket rapidly Izuku pulls out a silver key, inserting it in the lock quickly and twisting with a harsh tug.
Izuku's breathing came out in quick, hard, pants. An unexplainable fear threading and sewing into his veins until they turned to ice, contrasting with his flaming headache. Suddenly his world had shifted on its axis, turning upside down without so much as a warning before it did so. He rummaged through the kitchen draweres—in a desperate and hasty search for a bottle of Midol.
Unfortunately, lady luck was not on his side for they were fresh out.
Stumbling across the room and around furniture, Izuku slowly makes his way upstairs. That was his first mistake. He watched through a blurry film as his foot pressed against the first step, the feeling of said action not reaching his senses at all. That was his second mistake. And his third? Well, that was running out on Katsuki before he got a chance to speak his piece.
By the time he was on the second to last step, it was too late, slowly but surely he teetered backward. Until he fell. And as his back slammed against the last and final step, bringing along a wrecking ball of unknown memories, only one word managed to slip past Izuku's lips before he lost consciousness:
. . .
. . .
. . .
"Kacchan . . ."
HELLO CRICKET CULTISTS!!
It's coming together . . . yeeeesssss. Okay, remember when I said this book would only have 20 chap.s? Would Y'all be mad if I added a little more onto it? Pwease?
Honestly, I can't believe we finally are here with this book like . . . damn. I fell in love with what I did with these characters, there emotions, their thoughts, how they respond to things. If you guys didn't pick up on it earlier when our babies were fighting, they tend to mirror each other a bit. Obviously, Izuku does this subconsciously even if he doesn't remember but Katsuki does this knowingly since they've known each other so long.
It's the little things I add in here that I appreciate XD
Anywho . . . anyone wanna share their rants or thoughts about this chap--hell this whole book so far? I love reading and responding to them!
Love you guys.
Until we meet again!!!