Pink Skies | BakuDeku

15

I keep thinking about that moment...

That day we shared a cigarette outside, standing there in silence, the smoke swirling around us like all the things we couldn't bring ourselves to say. I could feel the tension between us, thick and heavy, like a storm waiting to break, but neither of us was brave enough to start the conversation we both knew needed to happen.

You offered me a cigarette, and I took it, hoping maybe the nicotine would calm the anxiety gnawing at me, but it didn't. The silence stretched out, and I kept waiting for one of us to break it, to say something, anything, that could clear the air between us. But we just stood there, side by side, pretending that the quiet was okay when it really wasn't.

The smoke curled around us, disappearing into the air just like the words I couldn't bring myself to say. I could feel you watching me out of the corner of your eye, maybe waiting for me to speak up, but I didn't know how. I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, that I was scared, that I didn't want to lose you, but the words got stuck in my throat, choking on my pride and fear.

When the cigarette burned down to the filter, I flicked it away, watching as it landed in a puddle, the embers hissing out in the cold water. I thought about how easy it was to snuff out that tiny flame, and I wondered if that's what we were doing—letting something that should be burning bright fade out because we were both too scared to confront the truth.

I'm sorry, Izuku. Sorry for the silence, for the things I didn't say, for letting the distance grow between us until it felt like there was no way to bridge it. I should have spoken up, should have told you how much you mean to me, but instead, I let the silence do the talking, and now I regret it more than anything.

Goodbye for now, but know that even in the quiet moments, my heart was always with you.

Katsuki

...

After what felt like hours, though Izuku knew it was only a few minutes, he finally calmed down enough to return home. He trudged back up the steps, shoes squelching wetly against the wooden porch boards. His gaze immediately found Katsuki leaning against the railing, a cigarette hanging limply from his lips. He looked defeated, eyes dull and distant as he stared out into the stormy night. Izuku's anger dissipated like smoke carried away by the wind, replaced by a suffocating wave of concern and guilt. He had done this. He had pushed Katsuki too far.

"Kacchan..." He called tentatively, hands clenching into fists at his sides. He wanted to reach out, to apologize for his part in the argument, but uncertainty held him captive.

Katsuki startled at the sound of his voice, turning to meet Izuku's eyes briefly before looking away again. "Go inside," he muttered gruffly, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Surprised by his own boldness, Izuku approached Katsuki with measured steps, heart pounding in his chest like drums of war. He gently reached out, fingers brushing against Katsuki's bandaged ones before snatching the cigarette from his grasp. Katsuki whipped his head around, eyes wide with shock as Izuku brought the smoldering end to his own lips and took a tentative drag. His lungs protested immediately, unaccustomed to the harsh smoke, but he held it in stubbornly before exhaling a cloud that mingled with the rain droplets around him.

"Iz-idiot!" Katsuki spluttered, concern fighting its way through his anger. "What the hell are you doing?"

Izuku met his gaze steadily, despite the tears threatening to overflow. "If you're going to destroy yourself over this," he rasped hoarsely, handing the half-smoked cigarette back to Katsuki, "then I'm going to do it with you."

The statement hung between them, heavy as lead weights. Izuku's eyes pleaded with Katsuki to understand; he didn't condone his reckless behavior, but he couldn't watch him self-destruct alone anymore. They needed each other now more than ever, even if it meant sharing in Katsuki's self-inflicted pain temporarily.

Izuku's eyes watered, not only from the harsh smoke but also from the sudden roughness of Katsuki's action as he snatched back the cigarette. The burning ember singed his index finger slightly, but he ignored the pain, focusing instead on the storm brewing in his boyfriend's reddened eyes. "Izu..." Katsuki started, voice gruff with emotion before biting off whatever apology or retort he intended to say. He took another angry pull from his cigarette, shoulders tense like coiled springs.

"You don't understand," Katsuki growled, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the night air. "This isn't something you can just...fix with your stupid hero complex."

"I know that!" Izuku shot back, frustration surging once more. He resisted the urge to massage the stinging spot on his finger, refusing to show weakness now. "But you don't have to shoulder everything alone!" He stepped closer, voice softer now but still laced with determination. "We promised to support each other, remember? No matter how heavy our burdens are."

Katsuki remained silent, his grip on the cigarette tightening until ash showered down onto the wet ground. Izuku's chest constricted at the sight, heart aching for the hurting soul trapped beneath Katsuki's prickly exterior. He reached out, hesitant fingers brushing against Katsuki's arm. "Let me in, please," he begged quietly, "We can figure this out together."

A battle raged within Katsuki's emerald gaze, the urge to push Izuku away warring with the need to let go of some weight. With a resigned sigh, he dropped the half-smoked cigarette into a nearby potted plant and turned to face Izuku fully, allowing their bodies to brush against each other, seeking solace in the familiar heat.

"Fine," he grumbled, voice cracking ever so slightly, "But I'm not promising it'll be pretty."