Paroxysm

Chapter Three

Mitsuki had been the first to notice her son's distance from Izuku when the boys were around nine.

"You two used to be best friends, what's happened, Suki? I never see him around anymore." Katsuki usually ignored these questions and changed the subject. In reality, he didn't know why he hated Izuku so much. Sure, he was annoying, but he always had been.

He couldn't keep secrets from his mother forever, though. Mitsuki had always been good friends with Inko Midoriya, so she didn't suspect anything when she received a call from her asking if she'd like to come over for tea.

"Mitsuki, you know I think of your son as if he were my own. I know you're the same with Izuku." Mitsuki nodded. Of course, she thought this of Izuku. He was such a sweet little boy and she missed the days when he used to come over to visit. "Which is why I'm wondering if something might be up with the two of them," Inko continues. "It's been a long time since I've seen Izuku...happy after coming home. I'm not trying to point fingers, but I know your son can be temperamental. It's been ever since that night when they were out when Katsuki–"

"Are you trying to tell me you think my son is the one causing your son's misery?!" she retorted, cutting Inko off. The shorter woman's eyes widened before she looked at the ground.

"I'm sorry Mitsuki, but...yes. I do. I firmly believe Katsuki is bullying my Izuku," she replied quietly.

Mitsuki put her head in her hands. "I was worried about that, but I didn't want to believe it," she admitted, shaking her head. "I never could have believed my Katsuki could do anything like that, I thought I raised him better." She felt tears pricking at her eyes as a gentle hand was placed on her shoulder.

"Mitsuki, this isn't your fault," Inko reassured her, but the blonde shook her head.

"No, it is," Mitsuki said, defeated, "it is my fault. Ever since he got diagnosed, I've been too lenient with him. I just...I wanted him to be happy... I've failed as a mother." Tears began falling down her cheeks, and Inko pulled her into a tight hug.

"Mitsuki, it's okay. Really. Izuku will be fine, and Katsuki is young. He can still be taught, you have the power to right this wrong and set him on the right path. They're just kids; this sort of thing happens." Inko rubbed her back as Mitsuki let out a whisper of a cry, pulling into herself like a wounded animal. Inko searched her brain for words to comfort her friend. "Honestly, if Izuku had anything similar, I probably would have done the same thing you did. I know it's hard to watch your child suffer." Inko didn't want to pardon Mitsuki for what she'd done, but she couldn't stay angry at her friend; not when so much burdened her shoulders.

Mitsuki hugged her friend back. "Thank you, Inko. I don't know what I've done to deserve a friend like you," she whispered. She took her by the shoulders and looked Inko in the eyes. "I'm going to make this right," she said, determined, "I'll talk with Katsuki about it. He can't parade around thinking he can get whatever he wants."

Unfortunately, that night when Mitsuki was so certain, Katsuki had such a violent episode she'd nearly called an ambulance. She'd taken him to bed and bawled on the sitting room floor, wishing she could stop it. She kept telling herself every day before Katsuki came home that she was going to talk to him, and every day she couldn't bring herself to do it. It seemed so much easier until she was faced with her son.

When Katsuki started middle school, she began noticing he'd come home with bloodied knuckles and a bitter attitude. He was more closed off than he used to be. They fought every minute he was conscious, and she wanted to hate him for it. She knew that if anyone else treated her the way Katsuki did, she'd drop them faster than they'd be able to retort. But this was her son; no matter how much they fought or how much he yelled at her, that was a fact that would remain. Even if he'd screamed at her until he was blue, she'd always be there to turn him on his side and be his caretaker. She often wept before she went to bed. She knew she'd failed. She found herself unable to even look at Inko anymore. Eventually, Inko stopped trying to make an effort to talk to her.