Silhouette

Ch. 6

"Take a breath, Midoriya," Eijirou urged as he brought another bite of ramen to his mouth. "We can't do anything to you in public without risking our identities." 

Izuku's steaming bowl of ramen sat untouched in front of him. He'd been almost catatonic since they'd arrived, Katsuki having to order for him. His brain couldn't wrap itself around the unfortunate series of events that had led up to this. "You keep saying vaguely threatening shit and expecting it to calm me down," he said in a dull and automatic response. 

"When did you learn to swear?" Katsuki asked in a grunt between bites of his own food. 

Eijirou pointed his chopsticks at the hero while chewing, only opening his mouth again after swallowing his food. Izuku silently wondered if he always had manners or if he was putting on a show in front of him. "Not trying to be threatening, but clearly, our word isn't getting you to relax. I was trying to make the argument more logical for you, don't you prefer that sort of thing?" 

Izuku reeled back at the idea of the redhead knowing anything about him as a person. "Why the hell would you say that?" he asked, his eyes flashing around the restaurant. He'd never been before, but it was quiet and homey, a stark contrast to his own internal feelings at the moment. 

"Dude," Eijirou breathed in astonishment, "You're famous for your brawn and your brain. You gotta be one of the smartest pros on the streets right now." The redhead's chopsticks were once again pointed at Izuku. "Very manly, by the way." 

Izuku's nose scrunched up. What the hell was that supposed to mean? 

"It's a compliment, nerd," Katsuki clarified with a small eye roll. "Ei's obsessed with the idea of manliness." 

"Killing people isn't very manly," Izuku found himself muttering under his breath before he could stop. His eyes went wide as he realized who he had just provoked. 

"Okay," Eijirou said a little too loud, causing Izuku to flinch back as he set his chopsticks down across his bowl and rested his elbows on the table. "We're not here to talk about my rap sheet. I thought you wanted to talk to Katsuki." 

Izuku slumped back in his seat, weary eyes glancing between the two men on the other side of the booth. "Honestly, I don't want to talk to either of you." 

"Then why the fuck are you here?" Katsuki snapped, his red eyes narrowing. The look was so achingly familiar that it caused Izuku's heart to stutter. He'd spent years praying to whatever was out there that those eyes would look at him, glare at him, anything, just one more time. He supposed this was some cruel god's idea of a sick joke. 

"I don't know," Izuku hissed. It was as if he was physically unable to not rise to Katsuki's challenge, but that wasn't anything new. "Maybe I wanted some closure. You know, when the guy you grew up with, never spending more than a week apart at a time, up and disappears one day without a trace, you're left with a lot of goddamn questions." 

"Well, I don't have any fucking answers." 

Izuku scoffed at his words, glaring out the window on his left. "Typical, Kacchan." 

"Damn," Eijirou said under his breath, catching Izuku's attention. "You guys were close. I can't believe you never told me about him, Kats." 

The last of Izuku's resolve snapped, and hurriedly shifted to climb out of the booth. 

"Oi, where the hell are you going?" Katsuki asked, but making no move to follow after the pro. 

Izuku was on his feet at the side of their table, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. "I'm going home, switching patrol routes, and praying to whatever god is out there that I never fucking see you again." He turned on his heels and started for the door, content to leave the little reunion at that.