Uncontrollable Fire.

oho

He watches as his breath fogs up the window, mug held all too tightly in his grip, warmth bleeding through his palms.

Katsuki didn’t put the mug down, even when it started to burn more, transfixed with the way the world seems frozen in place.

Fog still sitting heavy over the city, grass sparkling with frost. Sky grey, and all-consuming.

It feels as if he was the only living being.

___________________________________________

His hands are shaking, he wills them to just stop. In the back of his mind, all he can think about is that he hasn’t seen his mother in two years. Sure phone calls, and offhanded texts in that time.

He can see Kaede’s face when he told her that she’d have to get a drive with Suzuki-chan to school, she had looked upset, a crease between her eyebrows.

Depending so much on The Suzuki’s made his head spin, not that he had a choice this time around. Or any of the times around really.
He wants to say he misses his mother but he doesn’t.

Things weren’t the same after he turned fourteen, hell prior to middle school.

She never forgave him, and he didn’t know what he did wrong besides the major things.

The fights, the drinking, the drugs: the child he earned out of all of it.

“Hey, moron! What’s that on your face?” His mother always managed to pick out the one thing he didn’t want to talk about.

Whether that be school related things, aforementioned thing, fighting.

The bruise was stinging faintly on his cheek, but it didn’t matter. He had overstepped. He tended to with Kumiko.

Not that it was his mother’s business. He was fucking fifteen years old, beyond his mother founding over him, even if that had always been a rare occurrence.

So he snapped, “None of your fucking business.” Katsuki was smart, but his mouth always seemed to run away from him.

She dropped her papers, standing from the table, and hit upside the head. “Dumbass, what’s this on your face.” She grabbed his chin tilting his head back.

He glared at her, seethed with rage, he just wanted to wait it out in his room. Wait for his parents to pass out in front of the tv, grab ice and hopefully fall asleep sometime between midnight and sunrise.

“Get some fucking ice.” She snapped voice low, but final.

He didn’t listen at the time, or any other time he came home barely held together.

His fists clench involuntarily, the knock on the door that should be considered more of a bang making him jump.

He rises from the couch, hand cold on the door handle, he takes a few deep breaths before opening the door-

“You look like shit.”

Not even in the apartment yet, new record.
“And you look like fucking sunshine and rainbows.”

She rolls her eyes, hands on her hips. “Well, are you going to let me in?”

He shuffles out of the way, gesturing into the apartment elegantly like it isn’t a piece of shit he’s lived in for three years that is almost as empty as he got it.

She takes off her shoes, losing the bit of height she had on him. Dropping her coat ungraciously on the floor, she wrinkles her nose.

He waits for the water to boil while she searches the whole apartment for what? He doesn’t know, alcohol, drugs, a book that reads how to be a bad parent for dummies.