Hii please vote
---
Weeks turned into months, and the rhythm of school life settled into a familiar pattern. Izuku’s determination to break through Katsuki’s walls never wavered, even though the task proved more challenging than he had anticipated.
Katsuki was as aggressive and distant as ever. His interactions with Izuku were marked by sharp words and a fierce demeanor. Yet, Izuku remained patient, understanding that breaking through Katsuki’s defenses would take time. The emotional distance between them was palpable, but Izuku could see beyond the anger—he knew what lay hidden beneath.
One chilly afternoon, as the sun began to set and cast long shadows across the training grounds, Izuku and Katsuki were engaged in their usual intense sparring session. Katsuki’s movements were fierce and unrelenting, each strike driven by a force that belied his outward bravado. Izuku matched him with equal fervor, his eyes never leaving Katsuki’s.
“You’re still as reckless as ever, Bakugo,” Izuku called out, dodging a particularly vicious punch.
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his face flushed with exertion. “And you’re still a damn nerd. Can’t you take a hint? I don’t need you.”
Izuku grinned, despite the sting of Katsuki’s words. “I know you don’t. But I’m here anyway.”
As they took a break, sitting on the edge of the field, Katsuki’s breathing was heavy, his face flushed from the exertion. Izuku could see the strain in his eyes, the tension that never seemed to leave him.
“You’ve been pushing yourself hard,” Izuku observed, handing Katsuki a bottle of water. “Trying to outrun something, maybe?”
Katsuki’s eyes flashed with irritation, but he took the water, his fingers brushing against Izuku’s in a fleeting moment of contact. “It’s none of your business.”
Izuku watched him, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You know, I’ve read up on what happened. I know it’s been tough for you, Kacchan.”
Katsuki’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression hardened again. “How the hell do you know about that?”
“I’ve been paying attention,” Izuku said softly. “It’s hard to ignore the things that shape people. I know you’ve had a rough time after your parents… and I understand if you’re not ready to talk about it.”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Don’t act like you know me. You don’t have a clue.”
“I might not know everything,” Izuku admitted, “but I care. And I’m willing to listen if you ever want to talk.”
Katsuki’s silence was heavy, laden with a myriad of unspoken emotions. He stared at the ground, his usual bravado momentarily faltering. The pain and loss that lay hidden behind his fierce exterior were palpable, and Izuku could see the cracks in Katsuki’s armor.
“I don’t need your pity, Deku,” Katsuki said finally, his voice strained but resolute. “I don’t need anyone.”
Izuku nodded, his own resolve unwavering. “I’m not here to pity you. I’m here because I care about you. I want to be there for you.”
As the weeks continued, Izuku made a point of being present, not only in their training sessions but in everyday interactions. He didn’t push Katsuki to open up, instead offering small gestures of support—a shared lunch, a friendly smile, a moment of encouragement. Each interaction was a careful balance of persistence and respect.
Meanwhile, Katsuki’s interactions with his own group remained as vigorous as ever. Kirishima, Denki, and the others continued their boisterous banter, often at Katsuki’s expense, but they were a constant source of energy and camaraderie. Katsuki played his part in their dynamic with the same fiery spirit, but there was a noticeable distance in his interactions with them—one that only seemed to grow when Izuku was nearby.
One evening, as the dorms quieted down and the students settled into their rooms, Katsuki found himself unable to sleep. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts a tangled mess of frustration and confusion. The barriers he had erected around himself were starting to feel suffocating, and the pressure of maintaining his hardened exterior was taking its toll.
Just then, a soft knock sounded on his door. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed as he pushed himself up to answer it, finding Izuku standing there, a hesitant but determined look on his face.
“What do you want?” Katsuki demanded, his tone sharp but tinged with curiosity.
Izuku took a deep breath, meeting Katsuki’s gaze with unwavering resolve. “I wanted to see if you’re okay. I know things have been hard for you, and I just wanted to check in.”
Katsuki hesitated, the walls around him feeling more fragile than ever. He glanced away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
Izuku didn’t move, his presence a quiet testament to his commitment. “It’s okay to not be okay, Kacchan. You don’t have to pretend with me. I’m here, no matter what.”
Katsuki’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked as if he might break down. But then, the familiar anger and defiance flared up again. “Just go, Deku. I don’t need your help.”
Izuku nodded, though his heart ached with the unspoken words left hanging between them. “I’ll be here if you change your mind. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
As he walked away, Katsuki’s gaze followed him, a storm of conflicting emotions storming in his eyes. The walls he had so carefully constructed were beginning to show signs of erosion, but the process was far from over.
Izuku knew that earning Katsuki’s trust would take time and patience. It was a slow, grueling process, but he was committed to seeing it through. Despite the barriers and the harsh words, he remained hopeful. The path to rekindling their friendship was fraught with obstacles, but Izuku was willing to navigate them all to reach the heart of the person he once called his closest friend.
YOU ARE READING
Behind The Walls ✔️
FanfictionDisclamer:I don't own any of the characters or the images used in this book, all credit goes to Kohei Horikoshi and owners There were two childhood friends whose bond had once been unbreakable but had since fractured under the weight of loss and...
