If I Had One Wish

Chapter Forty Eight

Chapter Forty Eight - Overwhelmed 

It's not my fault I have my fathers eyes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was more of a recap than anything, the two speaking to him, unfurling a web of theories in front of his eyes. And he hated that he was absorbed into it, connecting the dots together with vigor. When Izuku escorted her out he sat in his room, glancing at the unfamiliar walls.

Izuku's room was interesting at best, showing tidbits of his personality and interests. There was a brief scattering of posters, the bookcase the largest showcase in the room as it stood tall and proud against the wall beside his desk. The large windows brought in natural light, brightening the place up in the summer and giving it a faint glow in the winter. At the moment the rain reflected into shadows, basking the room into a calming afternoon dim with streaks of water displaying as shadows; making a marbling effect on the wall. He sighed, resting his head in one hand.

Sitting on the chair in the middle of Izuku's room, listening to the soothing pitter-patter of the rain, he felt something empty and aching in his heart. His emotions rose slowly but also dimmed as well, as frequent as his breathing. His mind ran in circles but not quickly, slowly. He looked at the pages scattered on his desk in disdain.

Just how much, he wondered, was there to discover? And, as an addition, how much has he hidden? How much has he forgotten or not known about? Thoughts trickled into his mind slowly like an IV connected to his brain. Taking a deep breath he hummed, easing some of the tension in his muscles by leaning back into the chair Izuku previously occupied, his warmth still radiating off of it, closing his eyes as he tilted his head up, letting the blood rush.

Oh, just to think of nothing. Just to have a break. He longed for that sense of aloneness in his mind that he hasn't had since he was a child. That silence. He craved that fury within him from before but now as he thought of her, of trials he just felt tired. The word brought on nausea. He wanted nothing to do with it, it seemed so excessive. He needed, he craved, he wished for a distraction.

He hadn't heard Izuku walk in, only acknowledging he was in the room when he felt a hand on his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into his tense muscles. He didn't bother opening his eyes, letting out an incoherent grunt of approval.

"Did I frustrate you with that talk?" Izuku asked softly, not the one to stay silent. Katsuki inhaled deeply, regulating his breathing and gasping when Izuku's hand eased a particularly tense part in his muscles. Getting the hint Izuku let both of his hands grab his shoulders, Katsuki's head nearly against his chest, Midoriya's abdomen against the chairs backing. He massaged his shoulders as he spoke. "I know you don't like any of this, Kacchan, I get it. But... I can't really let it go, it's that gut feeling."

"And you're mad."

"And, yes, I'm mad." He admitted, running his fingers soothingly down Katsuki's back. The blonde felt his body melting on its own, sinking into the chair, into his partner's skillful hands. He was so gentle, it was almost unbelievable the strength those hands could muster if they could be this soft. "I'm mad at her. I know it's not my place-"

"But you care too much about me to let it go." He mused and Izuku's sigh filled his senses. His lips curved upwards. "What'd I say about protecting me?"

"In my defense I told you this time." He said lowly and Katsuki opened his eyes, sparkling like rubies with humor and exasperation. Izuku looked down at him, smiling slightly. He accepted the soft, almost fleeting feeling of his lips over his own. Katsuki closed his eyes again, sighing against his kiss.