𝔸 𝔾𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤 𝕆𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕍.𝟚 💥𝔹𝕜𝔻𝕜💥

Chapter 39

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Remembering Her

Sharp eyes watched Izuku standing at the entrance of the cemetery, his gaze locked on the endless rows of gravestones stretching out in front of them. The usual spark, that vibrant energy Izuku usually carried, seemed muted now, replaced by a quiet, heavy sadness. It reminded Katsuki of the worst days, the days when Izuku would look like he was fighting some battle inside himself, and all Katsuki could do was watch.

Izuku's hand trembled as he reached out, searching for Katsuki's. Katsuki took it, their fingers interlocking. Crazy to think just a few months back, Izuku had been too scared to even look Katsuki in the eye, too afraid to reach out like this. The way he used to flinch at Katsuki's touch, how he used to shrink away whenever Katsuki tried to connect with him, it all seemed like a lifetime ago. And yet, here they were, with Izuku turning to Katsuki for reassurance, for courage. He squeezed tight, letting Izuku know he was here, that he wasn't going anywhere.

Katsuki's eyes didn't miss a thing, tracing every line of tension carved into Izuku's face, feeling the restlessness that had been building up for days, now practically spilling over. Katsuki could feel the tremor running through Izuku's hand, the way his body seemed to sway, caught in some internal struggle. Izuku's feet remained rooted to the ground, like they were weighed down by the sheer gravity of being here, in this place, surrounded by memories he didn't have, memories that although nonexistent to him, seemed to haunt him.

He knew how hard it was for Izuku to be here after everything that had happened.

Gently, Katsuki nudged Izuku forward, a small but meaningful gesture, letting him know he was there. Sometimes, all it took was a little push to give someone the courage they needed to face what was in front of them. And Izuku needed that nudge right now, needed to know he wasn't alone when it came to facing things like this, not anymore.

"Come on, nerd," Katsuki said softly, leading the way through the cemetery, each step feeling heavier than the last. The cemetery was quiet, the kind of stillness that felt almost sacred, interrupted only by the soft crunch of fallen leaves under their feet. Early November had brought a crisp chill to the air, a biting cold that stung the skin and turned their breaths into small clouds of mist. Bare trees stood like sentinels along the paths, their skeletal branches with the last leaves of autumn reaching out to a dull gray sky. The wind whispered through the barren branches, a mournful sound that carried a sense of solitude, a reminder that they were the only ones here.

He could feel Izuku's hesitation in the way Izuku walked, didn't need to look to know what was going on in Izuku's head. The fear of dredging up all the shit that had been buried since the hospital, of confronting what the paparazzi had thrown at him, was starting to press on him.

As they neared a smaller section of the cemetery, Katsuki felt Izuku falter again. His steps slowed, that hesitation creeping back in like a dark cloud. Katsuki didn't say anything, just gave Izuku's hand another firm squeeze, like he was saying, I'm right here, dumbass. You're not doing this alone.

"We're here," Katsuki whispered when they finally reached the gravesite. His grip tightened around Izuku's hand, grounding him, giving him something solid to hold onto. They stood in front of the weathered tombstone, the name Inko Midoriya carved into the stone, a woman who had given everything for her son. Katsuki noticed fresh flowers on the grave, probably left by All Might or some stranger paying their respects.

Katsuki stood there, before he turned his attention to Izuku. He was just staring at the gravestone, eyes wide, almost like he was trying to will it away, make it not real. Like maybe if he stared hard enough, this would all just be some messed-up dream he'd wake up from. But Katsuki knew better. Shit, he knew more than anyone that life didn't give you a damn break, didn't let you wake up from the nightmares.