Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fire. 

Each and every time is as mesmerizing as the last, he thinks. Whether it's a couple logs burning in the familiar attempt to stay warm, or the three story building that roars in front of him now, ablaze and alive. 

Hypnotized, he watches the flames eat away at the structure as it whistles, sucking in massive amounts of air to feed its incessant hunger. So loud it rumbles deep within his chest and consumes his every thought. Vision blurred through red and white, he watches with the same fascination as when he was a child. Shouto closes his eyes and breathes in the burning wood and melting steel, and allows the memories to wash over him. Suddenly, it's ten years ago and he's 13 again, watching his childhood home be devoured by the very same flames. Only those flames were another's doing. 

On the night their mother died, his eldest brother burned everything he had ever known to the ground before he disappeared forever. Surrounded by what was left of his family, Shouto watched in awe as the others looked on in terror. It happened so fast. All the pain, all the tears, all the abuse held within its four walls reduced to nothing in a matter of minutes, erased from existence, leaving only ash in its wake.

Fire is the only constant in his life anymore it seems. 

Shouto opens his eyes as the building's roof caves in. With it, a plume of smoke reaches towards the sky, a beacon to the undead. He considers for a moment putting on the gas-mask that hangs around his neck, but then remembers why he's here. He places the bright orange gasoline canister on the ground next to his backpack and discarded katana, and sits cross-legged on the pavement to watch his creation. 

Or perhaps destruction is the better word. 

That's when he hears it, what he's been waiting for. An inhuman wail calling out from somewhere in the distance, impossible to trace as it bounces off countless buildings and alleyways. It's a sound he’s known all his life, and the only proof anything else in this town even exists. 

By the age of 4, Shouto was able to correctly decipher each and every noise a hollow can make—the high pitched shrill as it is alerted by a potential target, the low whistling noise as air is pulled through its ragged trachea while it wanders around on autopilot. But none of that dampens the shiver that crawls up his spine as his attention is momentarily pulled from the fire. He stays put though, staring up at the crumbling structure, waiting for the inevitable. 

He's more peaceful than he thought he would be in the moments before death. Perhaps he has the fire to thank for that. Truthfully, it's the only thing that's held him together all these years, jumping from settlement to settlement, leaving a trail of literal smoke behind him. Or perhaps it's because he's seen hollows rip enough people apart that he knows exactly what's in store for him. And fear is in the unknown, right?

The first hollow finally emerges from an alley two buildings down. A putrid, gruesome looking thing covered in rot and various other substances Shouto wishes he didn't see. It walks with a blundering purpose as the isolated brainstem sends signals out to all four of its festering limbs. Straight for food—straight for Shouto. Not far behind it, a second one follows, standing unnaturally and about a foot taller than the first. 

Even twenty-five years after the first recorded case, little is still known about the disease. Only that the virus itself rapidly evolves, mutating every few years, making it a nightmare to study. It’s known that their bodies don't decompose as quickly as they once did, allowing for a longer transmission period—fancy talk for as long as they can run and bite, they can infect. Only recently they developed the trick to maintain muscle mass. The fuckers became quicker, allowing them to spread out, no longer having to rely on hordes to infect. This led to a massive rise in hollows over the past couple years as many flourishing communities were ravaged. 

Shouto wonders if the hollow population outranks humans now. It certainly feels that way. He can't remember the last outpost he'd been to that housed over 30 people. And the last solo that crossed his path was over six months ago. Shouto runs his hand over the hunting knife on his hip as he remembers its former owner bleeding under him. 

Another screech comes from the alley. There are four now. Good. Plenty to get the job done quickly. Maybe he won't have to suffer that much.

"You got a fuckin' death wish or somethin'?"

Shouto's breath catches in his throat. Was that real? It has been so long since he's heard another voice he thinks certainly it must be his brain playing tricks on him, forming words out of hisses and pops as another pillar crashes down in front of him.

"'Cause if you do, just say the word and I'll gladly help you out."

No.

No. No. No.

No one is supposed to be here. This is supposed to be for him and him alone. He's selfish. He always has been. But taking another life along with his own? It's too much. 

Because that's what would happen, right? Nobody is surviving a solo fight against four of those fuckers. He whips his head around to find the owner of the voice. 

Standing in the middle of the street about thirty feet in the opposite direction is another man, putting Shouto directly in between him and the undead. He doesn't have time to make out any more details before they are on him. Two of the hollows let out coinciding shrills as they lunge forward with alarming speed. He hears the stranger curse under his breath and an object whiz past his head as he's simultaneously reaching for his katana. Followed by a familiar, sickening crunch. He seizes that moment and jumps to his feet, giving himself some distance to assess the situation. 

The stranger had completely caved one of the hollows' skulls in with what he can now make out as a baseball bat. He's fast, Shouto also notes, as he watches him skip out of the way of another attack. Shouto takes advantage of the distraction and darts towards the chaos, sword in hand. He sidesteps a swing from a rotted arm and is rewarded with a wide open view of the hollow's head. With both hands, he swings his katana through the dead face and watches the trail of black blood chase after the top half of it's head as the creature crumbles to the ground. 

Just as Shouto turns towards his next target, a gust of overwhelmingly hot air shoots out of the burning building as the entire third floor collapses in on itself. Glowing embers scatter everywhere, surrounding them in the street, and adding a harsh contrast to the decrepit beings in front of them. The temperature rises about twenty degrees, or so it seems, but the two remaining hollows pay no attention to the change in scenery. They snap their jaws and prepare for another lunge. 

Shouto spares a glance at the stranger and follows his line of sight down the street. Two more hollows emerge from behind buildings, and a third further down. Shit. They aren't fighting their way out of this anymore. It's time to run. He's tempted to tell the stranger to get the hell out while he fights them off, but no sane person would believe him. He also gets the fleeting feeling this guy wouldn't even let him if he tried.

"Heh. It's a fucking party now," the man says, a wicked grin stretching across his face. 

Maybe this guy actually is insane.

To Shouto's surprise, though, he spins around and takes off in the opposite direction, shouting back at Shouto to keep up. So much for a fucking party. But he wastes no time, sheathing the katana across his back and scooping up his backpack before bolting down the street after him. 

About a half a mile later, Shouto wonders why they haven't tried to lose them in alleyways or side streets yet. There's more than enough distance between them and the hollows now. They could easily slip down an alley and into a building for cover. 

Just as Shouto is about to shout the suggestion, the man in front of him slows down and reaches into his bag, pulling something out. Shouto can't make out what exactly it is, but it's small and appears to have wires coming off of it. Once Shouto catches up to him, he sees the object clearly.

A bomb.

Or that's what Shouto assumes at least. Of course he has never seen one in real life before, but he remembers the fascination he felt when reading about them in one of Touya's books. What would an explosion even look like? Would it be like fire? Curiosity has him stopping to observe what happens next.

Finally, Shouto is able to take in the man's appearance properly. He looks to be close to his age, sporting tight-fitting joggers, a hooded sweatshirt (minus the sleeves), and a backpack filled with various necessities, including the baseball bat poking out the top and well, bombs apparently, the man fits the appearance of a typical solo. Or at least the ones Shouto has had the misfortune of running into. His dirty blonde hair (which would probably in fact be two shades lighter without the grease and grime) sticks out haphazardly from underneath the hood, and an orange bandana is loosely tied around his neck, most likely to be used as a mask when needed. 

Blondie zips his backpack up and flings it over his shoulder. As if testing its weight, he tosses the bomb in the air a couple times and cocks his head back to look at Shouto, smirking when he sees that he's watching. Then, taking a few long strides, he launches the bomb towards the hollows, shoulder muscles flexing with the power he puts behind it. If only this guy had the chance to play pro, Shouto thinks.

Then, something incredible happens. 

The bomb lands right smack-dab in the middle of the hollows and instantly detonates . The display was absolutely breathtaking. It was so, so bright, casting deep shadows on everything around it, but only for a fraction of a second. And it was loud. He didn't expect it to be so loud. Something else he didn't expect was the physical force expelled from it—like he had been punched in the chest, forcing him to catch himself before stumbling backwards. Chunks of rotted flesh and bone fly in all directions, leaving a puddle of gore where the hollows had stood only seconds before. It was all over so quickly, and Shouto wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. He stands frozen, staring in complete and utter amazement. 

"That only bought us some time. Others will be coming soon," Blondie says, spinning on his heel and continuing down the street. Shouto snaps out of his trance and turns to look at him.

"Where do you suggest we go then?"

"Higher ground. Wait 'em out." 

Shouto agrees, higher ground is smart. Even though a hollow is capable of climbing ladders, they're rather clumsy with it. Also, they would never attempt such a feat without motive. So if they can make it up there without being spotted, chances are they will be in the clear. 

"Then you can get the fuck on your way," the man adds.

Shouto huffs. "Fine by me." 

Being this 'friendly' with another solo already has Shouto on edge. It's never good running into one, at least in his experience. He was always taught the most dangerous person you can come across is someone alone. Because they're the crazy ones. They're the ones who have done anything and everything to survive. The ones who look out for themselves and only themselves, and don't give a flying fuck what happens to anyone else. The ones who carry baseball bats and build bombs in their free time. 

The ones who light cities on fire just to watch them burn. 

Blondie finally makes a turn down a side street as if he has a set destination in mind and Shouto just follows along, eager to get off the ground as quickly as possible. They continue about half a block before the man hops onto the fire escape of what looks to be an old apartment building. 

Shouto hesitates only for a second as he imagines what could be waiting for him up there, but the rational part of his brain convinces him to follow. Afterall, why would this man go through all the trouble of saving him if he was just going to bring him somewhere to kill him anyways? Comfortable enough with that logic, Shouto hops on the fire escape behind him and they climb for what he counts as seven floors before Blondie crawls inside the building through an open window. He follows the man into the complex and then across the hall into one of the units. 

It's much darker inside and it takes a moment for Shouto's eyes to adjust, but once they do, he notices all the blinds have been pulled shut. He watches as the man drops his backpack on the bed and heads to one of the nearest windows, peeking through its blinds and squinting into the afternoon sun that pours in. 

"Fuckers are quick."

Shouto moves to look out the window as well. Seven stories below them is the carnage from the explosion, surrounded by six new hollows. Shouto's mouth goes dry. That's eleven total. That's more than he's seen in one location in a long time. Realizing how close they had been to more of those creatures, it's a miracle they weren't actually spotted. 

"Guess you're camping out here for a while," the man says as he makes his way to a recliner in the corner of the room, plopping down on it with a grunt. 

Letting the blinds fall shut, Shouto's gaze follows him to the chair, and then to the rest of the apartment. It looks… lived in. Not for years, but perhaps months. Random articles of clothing are thrown around the room, and the bed is left unmade. He can see cans of food next to the couch and a half-empty bottle of water on the table. 

"That's wonderful." He doesn't even try to hide his sarcasm. Letting his backpack fall from his shoulder, Shouto sits down on the floor, shifting the gas-mask around his neck and leaning against the wall as the fatigue finally hits him. 

"Not my fault," Blondie states, pulling a couple apples out of a bag next to his recliner. He tosses one to Shouto.

"It kind of is," Shouto remarks, quietly. He catches the apple, eyeballing it suspiciously in his hands. The stranger's eyes narrow in his direction.

"It's a fucking apple, just eat it."

Shouto glances back at the man and watches a trickle of juice roll from the corner of his mouth down to his chin before deciding to take a bite of his own. The man continues with his mouth full now.

"Well maybe next time you try to off yourself, you won't fucking suck at it. Then we wouldn't be here right now." 

Shouto slows his chewing to glare at the man across the room, which seems to have no effect on him as he continues to chomp away at the apple, oblivious to any lines he may have just overstepped.

"What's your name anyway?" The man continues without missing a beat.

Shouto made sure to let his annoyance bleed into his response. 

"I don't see why you need to know that."

"Fine. Don't tell me. But I already know who you are."

He places the half-eaten fruit on the side table next to the chair and leans back, crossing his arms and giving Shouto his full attention once again. 

Shouto feels his pulse quicken.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He swallows, keeping his exterior calm in front of the stranger. 

"You're that asshole that goes around lighting fires everywhere you go. Just for the hell of it, right?"

Blondie then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and tilting his head forward, like he's about to tell a juicy secret. 

"The Arsonist," he sneers.

He drags out each syllable longer than necessary, almost poking fun at the nickname. Shouto relaxes, though. This information isn't shocking to him in the least bit. He's heard the nickname in passing before, though he was never a fan of it. But he supposes he understood how it came about, especially with how little information he gives out about himself.

"You know, you're lucky you don't have anyone after you. Because you're pretty goddamn easy to track." 

Blondie smirks, leaning back again and Shouto smiles at the irony of that before redirecting the conversation. 

"What about your name?" 

Blondie chuckles. 

"That ain't how this works, princess. This is a give and take relationship here." He flicks his finger, motioning between the two of them. "If you want something, you gotta be able to give it."

Shouto had expected that response, though he frowns slightly at the pet name. He's not sure how much of a relationship this man expects them to have because Shouto fully intends to get the fuck out the second the hollows leave. 

Rather than press any further, Shouto sits quietly, taking bites of his apple and thinking back to the magnificent display of devastation that occurred below them moments ago. He wants to ask more about the homemade explosives—what they were made of, how he learned about them, etc.—but decides Blondie isn't likely to give any of that information out so easily to another solo. So he closes his eyes instead, replaying the beautiful blast on loop in his mind. 

When he opens his eyes, he catches the man staring at him with an unreadable expression before awkwardly looking away, pretending to mess with the bandage around his hand. Odd. Shouto continues to stare, though. 

The man's sharp features make him rather attractive, he notices. The slight slope of his nose, the high cheek bones, the angle of his jaw. He's an asshole, that's for sure, but no one said you had to like a person in order to find them attractive. 

The man flicks his eyes back up to meet Shouto's from behind a few dirty blonde strands of hair and he smirks again—something Shouto is starting to hate less and less. He then stands up from the recliner, twisting and popping his back, and rolling his head side to side to loosen his stiff joints. 

"You get the couch," he says before flopping down on the bed, folding his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. Shouto glances into the other room at the couch, disapprovingly.

"I think I'll find another place," he responds. Afterall, they are in an entire apartment complex. 

"All the other units are locked. So unless you wanna go busting down doors with those things outside—" the man doesn't need to finish the statement. 

Staying in such close proximity with this solo leaves a bad taste in Shouto's mouth, however it is the better alternative than risking alerting the hollows to their location. He looks back at the stained polyester in defeat before grabbing his belongings and moving over to it.  

The two of them don't say much the rest of the evening. Shouto lays on the couch, reading through a novel he's already read about twelve times and Blondie finds things to occupy his time as well, anything from fiddling with his explosives to jotting down numbers in a sudoku pamphlet. From time to time, Shouto can feel uncertain eyes lingering on him, and he sends out a few of his own cautious glances as well. 

They do this dance for the next couple days, only exchanging a few words here and there, while both being fully aware of what the other was doing at all times. Time moves surprisingly fast and Shouto can't complain about much. 

Except that the hollows won't leave. 

And his food is running low. It had been for a while, but Shouto never bothered to restock it. He tries to stretch out the last of his rations, but by the end of the third day of being stuck in that apartment, he runs out. He doesn't mention anything, though. It's not like he's gone a few days without food before. However, the next morning, he wakes up to find an old protein bar and a pickled egg sitting on the table next to his couch. From then on, they have been sharing every meal.

"Where do you get all of this?" Shouto asks one evening as he picks at a piece of dried trout.

"Nice try," the man snorts, sitting on the floor across from Shouto, the two sharing the coffee table. Shouto looks up at him as he chews.

"I was just wondering if you do it all yourself or…"

Blondie pauses and goes back to picking at his own piece of trout. 

"Some of it. Most of it I get from a town I used to stay at."

His features seem to soften slightly as he mentions the place. The crease between his eyebrows is less severe and Shouto can see now that his eyes are actually a dark shade of red, a feature he hadn't picked up on yet due to the lack of light in their current residence. He finds himself staring. 

"So why don't you stay there?" Shouto asks. 

Blondie stops eating to meet Shouto's gaze, those red eyes now pinning him down. Shouto doesn't know if he's about to be screamed at or laughed at. Minutes pass by, but in all honesty it could have been ten seconds before the man stands up, grabs his plate and turns towards the kitchen. 

"You ask a lot of fucking questions," he says as he disappears into the other room, leaving Shouto alone. And Shouto is fine with that.

Another day passes without any excitement, but the hollows still refuse to leave. Shouto spends a lot of his time just looking down at them from the safety of his window, watching as artificial life carries them around on dead legs. Every once in a while, a noise can be heard in the distance and all of them will turn their heads in unison, but it's never enough to fully lure them away.

Shouto realizes earlier that morning that he's quickly approaching the longest he's ever spent in one place since he left home, and it surprises him how content he feels. No pacing back and forth, no biting or picking at his nails, or any other habits he learned when he was younger. Something about this place puts him at ease. 

Shouto looks away from the window and over at the man sprawled out on the bed flipping through an old magazine, reading about fashion trends and celebrity gossip, and other menial things that have no place in this world anymore. Out of nowhere, he breaks the silence.

"It's Shouto." 

His own voice surprises even himself. He isn't sure what possessed him to say it, but he did. And just like that this stranger, this person who he hasn't even known for a full week yet, knows his name—his real name. 

And Shouto feels... fine.

The man looks up from the magazine and meets Shouto's gaze. He squints his eyes, red flicking back and forth between his blue and gray. Setting the magazine aside, he sits up and bends his knees, folding his arms over top of them. 

"Shouto…" The man drags out the last syllable, turning it into an open-ended question, as he waits for a surname. He stays quiet, giving Shouto the chance to offer more, but when he doesn't, the man huffs.

"Well if we're doing that," he breaks eye contact and runs a hand through his hair, then resting his head on his palm, fingers still carded through it. "Katsuki."

Katsuki. Shouto repeats the name in his head. 

He watches Katsuki scoot to the edge of the bed and stand up, stretching his arms over his head before walking over to Shouto. He doesn't stop until he's right up in Shouto's space, face tilted up slightly at the difference in height. He then brings his hand up and squeezes Shouto's cheeks together, causing his lips to form an "O". 

"See. That wasn't so hard was it, princess?"

Shouto feels heat creep into his cheeks and yanks his face away.

"Why did you even ask if you're still just gonna call me that?"

That smirk is back, and now it's oh so close to him. Two separate urges overcome Shouto at once. One is to break his nose and the other one he doesn't want to fully acknowledge. He's able to successfully ignore both of them, though, and shoves past Katsuki, heading back to his couch where he spends the rest of the night in a peaceful sleep for the first time in so, so long.

The next morning it finally happens. Everything goes to shit. 

Shouto stares down at the vacant street below him.

"They're gone."

Katsuki stops what he's doing and looks over at Shouto. Slowly, he stands to join him at the window. The silence is laced with apprehension as the two scan the streets below for any signs of the undead, anywhere. But nothing.

It's completely empty.

No movement at all besides a couple of crows picking at the rotten remains laid out across the street, the only thing left to prove that they were ever there at all. Shouto doesn't know how to feel. He should be relieved, right? At least that's how he wants to feel. He's no longer trapped in this place. He can finally go on his way. 

He takes a step back from the window to look at Katsuki, waiting what seems like an eternity for his response.

Finally, though, Katsuki turns around. His eyes are cold when they meet his, and all of a sudden Shouto remembers that this other man isn't his friend. He was never his friend. He just happened to be someone in the wrong place at the right time, playing the hero card and keeping Shouto from finally succeeding at something in his pathetic life. Shouto could laugh at himself for being so stupid.

"I guess you can leave now," Katsuki says flatly, stepping away from the window and away from Shouto.

Shouto hesitates only for a second. He won't allow himself any more. He heads to the couch to gather his things, ignoring the tugging feeling in his gut. He throws his books and other miscellaneous items into his backpack, then tosses it over his shoulders, slinging the katana over top of it. Picking up the gas-mask laying next to the couch, he fastens it so that it's resting on his forehead, ready for use. He then looks back at Katsuki one last time. 

"Thanks for the food."

Katsuki is sitting on the edge of his bed, chin resting on his knuckles, and his right leg bouncing up and down. He smirks when Shouto looks at him. But it isn't his usual look how smug I am smirk. It's strained, awkward, and showing one too many teeth.

"Anytime, princess."

And just like that, Shouto is out the door and on the fire escape. And he doesn't let himself look back until the abandoned city is nothing more than a glitch on the skyline behind him, and Katsuki is just another passing memory.

=================

Weeks went by, and Shouto isn't exactly sure what month it is anymore. He had stopped counting long ago. But the days grow colder and the nights even more so, and his vision seems clearer now as the humidity in the air begins to drop. The familiar scent of gasoline invades his nose and his fingers twitch with anticipation next to the box of matches in his pocket. His eyes follow the liquid trail leading up to the old barn he had stumbled upon in the middle of a field. How lucky. 

He grabs the box of matches and pulls one out, striking it to life and tossing it to the ground in front of him. The gasoline ignites, traveling with impressive speed towards the barn. The hay bales and old planks of wood that take residency inside act as kindling, bringing the whole structure alive in less than a minute. 

And it feels intimate. Just him and his creation, and nothing else for miles.

Many times he's thought about walking straight into those flames, letting them destroy him the same way he's destroyed so many times before. It's pretty poetic if you think about it, actually. Perhaps now would be the perfect time to finally follow through. He then remembers the flames that consumed his childhood home, and silently curses. 

That would've been the perfect time.

Shouto stares into the fire and tries to remember happiness. True happiness. When was the last time he felt it? He remembers him and Inasa as teenagers, sneaking around after dark, stealing touches, gasping and moaning into each other's existence. He remembers laying with him afterwards as Inasa whispered how everything will be okay. Was he happy then?

Maybe it was his last memory with Touya. The one before their mother died. The one when Touya brought Shouto to the archery range with him and they spent the entire afternoon shooting target after target, laughing and cheering each time one of them hit a bullseye. It was a simple memory, but one that remained untainted over the years. Shouto blinks through the tears collecting in the corner of his eyes, the heat causing them to evaporate as soon as they spill over. 

He then thinks of dirty blonde hair and blood red eyes. Of stained upholstery and stale protein bars. He closes his eyes and sees the stranger’s face in front of the dancing flames that bleed through the back of his eyelids. 

It is at this moment that Shouto decides not to walk into that barn. Instead, without hesitation, he turns around and starts back in the direction he came from, exhausted muscles carrying him one step at a time. 

For days he walks, only stopping to rest when taking another step isn't physically possible. He imagines if he were to run into another human right now, they would no doubt mistake him for a hollow, and he thinks maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. But he continues on, delirious, until one day he finally collapses on a bus-stop bench and lays there for an undetermined amount of time. 

When he finally wakes, the sun is setting behind him and he finds a couple of deer chomping on something across the street. An apple tree. His stomach makes an awful noise at the thought of food. Springing off of the bench, he races across the street, the two deer scattering in separate directions, and sits under the tree where he eats about 6 apples before finally deciding to continue his journey.

The next town he comes across, he finds humans. Four of them, he counts. They appear to be wanderers, setting up camp in a gas station parking lot and cooking something delicious-smelling over a fire. The first thought that crosses his mind is to loot them. But upon further inspection, he notes that three of them are equipped with guns. Two shotguns and a rifle from what it looks like. Shouto was never a fan of guns. They were clunky and awkward to carry around, and ammo was too scarce to make it a viable weapon. He'd much rather stick to his katana and various other blades he keeps on his person. But when it comes to a gun versus a sword, the gun wins every time. Ultimately, Shouto decides to leave the group of wanderers alone, and continue on. 

He guesses another week passes, and eventually he finds himself on the sidewalk of a deserted suburban neighborhood, filled with three-story houses and white picket fences. He sits on the pavement and looks around at the yards overgrown with weeds and the paint peeling from the sidings, and imagines the neighborhood twenty-five years ago, filled with life. Children riding their bikes and laughing, the smell of barbecue in the air. Trophy wives clustered together exchanging the latest gossip as they toss their hair over their shoulder with manicured hands. He wonders if this is how his life would've been without this God-forsaken plague.

Further down the road, he spots a lone hollow wandering between cars, and Shouto watches it through weary eyes, observing its clumsy movements. It hasn't noticed him, so he doesn't get up just yet. Squinting, he tries to see the human-being that existed before the virus took over, the person behind the rot and decay. It was a woman, though it's impossible to tell what age. He tries to piece together the bits of information he has—the color of her hair, the type of clothes she had on—to form a final picture. But he couldn't. 

It's still just a hollow.

Shouto thinks he should be sad. All traces of this woman's humanity have been completely stripped from her, so much so that it's impossible for him to see past the disease anymore. 

He should be, but he isn’t. 

He pulls out his katana and taps it a couple times against the pavement, watching the hollow's head snap to him. Slowly, Shouto stands, stretching and counting the four separate pop's that travel up his spine. Turning to face the hollow, he waits patiently for it to reach him. This one isn't very fast, probably a leftover from the old batch of the viruses. It's amazing it has even survived this long. Twirling his sword in his hand, he supposes the thing made it about half way before it stops and looks to the left, a split second before Shouto hears it as well.

An explosion.

Without a second thought, Shouto takes off in the direction of the sound, leaving the hollow completely forgotten. Any ounce of the fatigue he was feeling a few minutes before has vanished, replaced by pure, unfiltered adrenaline. It sounded close—less than 5 miles away, he guesses. He can make it there fast.  

As he quickly moves deeper into the town, the buildings gradually get taller and sit closer together. He slows his pace and starts to scan his surroundings. He's never been through this town before, so relying on landmarks won't help him. Instead, Shouto looks for any sign of a disturbance, something that proves what he heard back there wasn't his imagination. 

He doesn't have to look for long. As he rounds the corner of the next intersection, the sight he's met with stops him dead in his tracks. Hollows. Lots of them. Directly ahead of him. They are focused around the main entrance of what appears to be an old hotel. 

Upon closer inspection, Shouto notices chunks of flesh and body parts scattered underneath their feet, mimicking the carnage he'd spent the better part of a week staring at, only larger. Much larger. That must have been the source of the explosion. 

Jesus. How many were there?

It has to be him. It has to be Katsuki trapped in that hotel with those freaks surrounding it. A hundred different solutions to get Katsuki out run through Shouto’s head at once. He needs to act quickly. A distraction—that’s what he needs. Perhaps he can start a fire down the street, something to give Katsuki enough time to escape. Deep down, Shouto knows that wouldn’t be enough, though. Once a hollow has its eyes set on their prey, only a sure-fire guarantee will redirect their attention. 

He could be the distraction. That would certainly work.

All he has to do is run into the street and start yelling. Quick and simple. That would get every single one of those fuckers’ attention. Satisfied, Shouto turns around to scope out his escape route, taking note of all the side streets and changes in elevation. Most likely he’d be able to weave in and out until he gained enough distance to run into one of the buildings unseen. All he needs is to give Katsuki enough clearance to get out. That’s it. He’s about ready to enact the plan when another thought crosses his mind. 

But what if he’s injured.

If Katsuki is hurt, if he can’t walk, then this plan is worthless. Shouto clenches his jaw.

“Fuck,” he growls under his breath. 

That leaves one option, then. He needs to find a way into that hotel. He needs to get in there and grab Katsuki himself. Shouto looks away from the hollows and to the building itself. 

The roof. 

That would be the best option, he thinks, but finding his way up there is another problem altogether. He waits for the best moment to cross the intersection without being seen. Then, traveling between buildings, he makes his way towards the back of the hotel, where he spots the fire escape that leads all the way to the roof, along with four more hollows directly underneath it. 

They truly had the place surrounded. Well there goes that plan.

Frustrated, Shouto looks up at the building again. As he's trying to come up with another plan, he notices some of the hotel rooms have balconies attached to them. He also notices the roof of the next building almost directly lines up with one of those balconies. Shouto glances in between the two, judging the distance from one to the other. It's possible, he thinks. Crazy, but possible. It's certainly the best plan he's come up with so far.

Without any hesitation, Shouto makes his way to the roof of the neighboring building, all the while making sure none of those things are following him. He reaches the roof quickly, and peers over the edge to find one of the balconies. Fuck. It looks further away up there than it did on the ground, he realizes. But it's still possible. The landing just might hurt a little more. 

Shouto steps away from the edge, tilting his head side to side, stretching his neck and swinging his arms around, limbering up for the feat he was about to take on. Then, he turns back towards the edge, takes a deep breath, and runs. 

He makes it to the edge in less than a second, then uses the momentum to launch himself off the building. And for a split second he's weightless, flying through the air  about fifty feet off the ground, until he's crashing down onto the concrete balcony, his shoulder and hip taking the brunt of the fall. 

Shouto grimaces as he stands back up. Well, that went pretty much as planned, he thinks. He takes a moment to make sure nothing is broken, testing all of his extremities, before finally opening the door leading into the suite.

Inside the hotel is dark and eerily quiet compared to the chaos taking place just outside. It takes Shouto's eyes a minute to adjust before he can maneuver through the room and out into the hallway. He isn't exactly sure where to start looking, so he decides to head to the lobby first. Making his way down the stairwell, Shouto finally enters the large, open room, and Katsuki is the first thing he sees. Relief floods his senses. The second thing he sees are the numerous silhouettes outside each window, scraping and clawing at the double-paned glass, and making noises that should only be reserved for ghost stories. A chill runs through Shouto before he turns his attention back towards Katsuki, who's slumped over and leaning against the reception desk with one arm clutching his side, the other laying limp next to him. 

And there is blood. A lot of it. Shouto takes a couple hesitant steps towards him before Katsuki is alerted by his presence. 

Slowly, Katsuki picks up his head to look at Shouto, tired eyes meeting his own, before they light up in recognition. Katsuki lets his head fall back against the wood as if it costs too much energy to hold it up, but he continues to watch Shouto through pale lashes. A lopsided smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.

"Hey, princess." His voice comes out strained and gravelly. 

Shouto wants to run over to him, to inspect the damage, to get Katsuki the hell out of here, but—

"It's not a bite," Katsuki adds, sensing Shouto's hesitation. 

He could be lying, of course. Sometimes people do that after they are bit—they're desperate, scared of dying alone and becoming one of those monsters. But there isn't time to waste going back and forth right now. Every second that passes gives the hollows more time to find their way in. If Katsuki starts to turn, then Shouto will just have to deal with it later.

He walks over and kneels next to Katsuki, feeling the man’s eyes on him the entire time. Peeling his shirt back and eyeing the injury, Shouto sucks in a breath as he’s met with the gruesome sight. It's a long, nasty looking gash that starts from his inner ribs and continues all the way to his hip. Shouto can see muscle tissue in places but, to his relief, it doesn't seem to extend deeper than that. Still, he has lost a lot of blood, which is the main threat right now.

Shouto needs to think about an exit strategy. He had spent so much time and energy trying to figure out how to get in, but never stopped to think about how they were going to get back out. He looks around the room, mind racing through possible solutions. Then he turns back to Katsuki.

"Do you have any bombs left?" Shouto asks, trying to keep his voice calm. But Katsuki just laughs.

"You think I would fuckin' be here right now if I did?"

Shit. Well there goes plan A. He debates simply throwing Katsuki on his back and trying to outrun them, but there's no way in hell they would be able to make it through the door. He runs his hands through his hair and scrunches his face up. Just think.  

Well, they could leave the same way he got in. Again, that seems to be the only option, as crazy as it sounds. Shouto looks back at Katsuki, judging if he is in any condition to make the jump.

"Can you walk?" He asks.

Katsuki squints at him as if he's trying to decipher what plan he came up with. Then, pressing his hand to his side, he leans forward, getting his legs under him. Shouto moves to wrap his arm around him and assist and, though he appears to be in a lot of pain, he gets Katsuki standing. And that's huge.

"Go up to the fifth floor and wait for me there," Shouto commands, grabbing Katsuki's baseball bat from the floor. They both hear a loud bang come from somewhere towards the back of the building. Shouto looks in the direction of the sound, then whips his head back to Katsuki, eyes fierce with adrenaline. 

"Now."

Katsuki crinkles his nose up and growls, obviously wanting to argue but knowing there's no time. Unsteadily, he heads out of the room and disappears through the door to the stairwell, leaving Shouto alone. 

This plan will work, Shouto thinks, he just has to be quick. He pulls out the box of matches from his pocket and fastens the gas-mask over his face before making his way around the perimeter of the room, striking one match at a time and igniting each of the oversized, gaudy draperies that hang in front of the windows. Instantly, the room fills with smoke and the temperature rises a good fifteen degrees. 

After a few minutes, he has successfully lit each drapery and turns to appreciate his work. Satisfied with the fire, Shouto heads to the front window where the majority of the hollows are clustered. He looks at them through the double-paned glass, seeing more of his own reflection than anything else as he's silhouetted by the flames behind him. He then takes the baseball bat in both hands, plants his feet firmly on the ground and, with every ounce of strength he has, swings the bat directly into the glass. 

The entire pane shatters as one, and suddenly there is nothing standing between him and the mob of the undead. He hops backwards out of the way as hollows begin to flood the room. Spinning around, Shouto takes off towards the stairwell, flinging the door open and slamming it shut behind him, where he then fastens the door-wedge into place. That should hold them off. At least long enough for the fire to fry them up. 

Shouto doesn’t give himself a second to rest. He begins climbing the staircase, taking two steps at a time until he finds Katsuki leaning up against the wall just outside one of the rooms. 

"What the hell did you do?" Katsuki asks accusingly, eyeing Shouto as he walks by.

Shouto moves past him, ignoring the question, and walks into the suite directly next to them. He opens the door leading outside to the balcony where the wails and screeches of hollows burning alive can be clearly heard, and looks across at the roof of the next building. Katsuki is behind him now and looking over his shoulder.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he says breathlessly behind Shouto's ear. 

Shouto turns to face him and stretches out his hand. 

"Give me your backpack."

Glaring up at him, Katsuki slips the bag off his shoulders, grimacing as the movement aggravates his injury. Shouto heaves both his and Katsuki's bags across the alleyway where they land and skid to a stop, followed by his katana and the baseball bat before he finally looks back at Katsuki.

"You're fucking insane," Katsuki says incredulously. 

"This is how I made it in. It's our only option." Shouto walks past Katsuki into the dark room to give himself enough of a running start. He looks up at Katsuki, smirking. "Unless you're too scared."

Katsuki huffs, and that wild expression is back on his face. He flashes his teeth at Shouto.

"Lady's first then."

Shouto smiles at that, cracking his fingers and bouncing on the balls of his feet a few times before darting towards the balcony, springing onto the railing and launching himself off of it. The roof approaches quickly and this time he rolls into the landing, minimizing the impact on his joints. 

The rush of adrenaline is intoxicating.

Taking a deep breath, Shouto stands up, rolling his shoulder a couple times before looking back toward the balcony. He sees Katsuki watching him, too far away to make out the expression on his face. The man hesitates for a moment before disappearing into the dark room, and Shouto's nervous for him. He doesn't doubt Katsuki can make the jump on a good day, but with his injury and the blood loss— 

Suddenly Katsuki reappears on the balcony in a flash. He grabs onto the railing, planting both of his feet on the metal, and jumps .  

Shouto stops breathing. He can make it. An eternity seems to pass before Katsuki lands next to him on the rooftop with a heavy thud. It was a bad landing, though. Shouto flinches as he hears the breath get knocked out of his lungs when Katsuki hits the concrete. He flips and rolls a few times, leaving streaks of blood on the roof behind him, and once he finally stops, a pained noise escapes through his clenched teeth as he tries to hold back an anguished scream. Shouto curses under his breath and rushes over to him as Katsuki slowly gets to his hands and knees, head hanging between his shoulders. 

Blood is pouring from the wound on his abdomen now and Shouto knows they need to get somewhere safe fast. Quickly, he gathers up their belongings and tries to help Katsuki back to his feet, finding it much more difficult this time. It's obvious Katsuki has no strength left, and he's pretty sure he's on the verge of losing consciousness. Instead, Shouto kneels down in front of him and pulls Katsuki onto his back before standing back up. He's heavier than he expected, but Shouto manages to half-drag, half-carry him inside and down the roof-access stairway. Carefully, Shouto makes his way down to the ground level and back out onto the street as he feels something warm and sticky seep into the back of his shirt. 

Smoke barrels out of the hotel, but Shouto is able to make out one thing—not a single hollow is in sight. He gives himself a moment to appreciate the success of his plan before he notices Katsuki isn't moving anymore. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. He needs to hurry.

With no idea where to go, Shouto starts heading in the opposite direction of the hotel. He needs to find something, anything—some place to take refuge for the time. He hopes Katsuki has some  supplies on him, because there’s no way he has enough on him to treat a wound of this caliber right now. He’d blown through most of what he had left with his last major hollow encounter and hasn't had the chance to restock yet. Though he carries the basics, he still needs disinfectant, ointments, antibiotics—

They finally emerge free from the maze of buildings where Shouto spots a gas station further down the street. That will have to do. There has to be something there he can work with. Shouto's never been much of the praying type, but he prays right then and there that the gas station hasn’t been picked clean. Adjusting his grip on Katsuki, he crosses the street and approaches the shop. 

Carefully, he pushes the door open just a crack to peek inside, and he almost can't believe what he sees. 

The store hasn't been touched. Shelf after shelf of water, food, medicine. He has never seen a store this fully stocked. Ever. Shouto stares in disbelief before snapping himself out of it. 

With the threat of exhaustion scratching at the back of his skull, he drags Katsuki into the shop, laying him down behind the counter and dropping to his knees next to him. He smacks Katsuki's cheek a couple times—perhaps a bit too hard—trying to siphon some kind of reaction out of the man. When blonde eyebrows twitch and pinch together, Shouto allows himself to relax a bit.

Knees popping in protest, he stands back up and heads over to the shelves to scope out the supplies and gather what he needs before returning to Katsuki's side, a bottle of peroxide, multiple rolls of bandages, and a tube of antibacterial ointment all in hand. He even finds some sterile gloves. Feeling much like a surgeon, Shouto pulls Katsuki's shirt up to expose the wound and gets to work, silently thanking his mother and sister for this knowledge. It takes a while, but once the wound is cleaned and stitched up, he gives his work one final inspection before he lets himself fall back against the counter. 

He can feel his body starting to shut down. He'd been running on empty for, what, months now? Only the bare minimum getting him by. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Adrenaline can only keep you going for so long. Shouto's just glad his body held out this long. He realizes that his eyes are closed and regretfully forces them back open. Not yet. He can’t leave Katsuki in the middle of the store like this. On his search for supplies, Shouto had noticed a deadbolt door leading to a back office with a small cot inside. It was perfect. 

Summoning the last of his strength, he hauls Katsuki over his back one last time, dragging him with the most difficulty he's had so far to the office, almost stumbling multiple times on the way, until he finally reaches the cot and awkwardly maneuvers Katsuki off his back and onto the rusted springs and dusty fabric. Shouto watches him for a moment, catching his breath and appreciating how peaceful he looks in his sleep. Slowly he turns, dragging himself over to the door, and lets his full weight fall into it as he locks it, before his legs give out on him. He collapses to the floor, and finally allows exhaustion to overtake him. 

Chapter Text

"Shouto!"

"Hey! Shouto!"

It's Touya, standing outside the back door of their childhood home, sunlight highlighting the stray wisps of white hair that move with the subtle breeze. He's leaning inside, motioning towards Shouto in the living room.

"Shouto! Come on, let's go!"

He's smiling and it makes Shouto so happy, so he gets up and walks towards the door.

"Where are we going?" Shouto asks hesitantly before taking his hand, his smaller one disappearing in his brother’s larger one. 

Touya leans in, almost whispering, like he’s telling a secret. "Away from here."

"Shouto! Oi! Wake the fuck up."

Shouto groans as he feels something solid poking his head. Opening his eyes feels much like what he imagines wading through quicksand would feel like, but once he finally does, he is rewarded with the lovely sight of Katsuki’s boot. 

"About fucking time," Katsuki grumbles, putting his foot down and walking back to the cot, hissing as he sits down on it.

Every muscle in Shouto's body aches like never before—like he had just run multiple marathons. Which, technically, he supposes he has. Not to mention he'd been laying on the cold tile floor of this office for God knows how long. It felt like an eternity. 

"How long was I out?" Shouto asks, grimacing as he pushes himself into a sitting position, joints literally creaking with the unwelcome movement. 

"Beats me. I just woke up a little while ago." Katsuki runs his hands through his hair and winces as the action tugs at his stitches. He looks over at Shouto then around at the rest of the office. "Where are we?"

"A gas station," Shouto responds, rubbing his eyes and scrunching his face up. His head is pounding all of a sudden, like there's something trapped inside that's pushing and clawing its way out. "We didn't get very far.”

"And the hollows?" Katsuki asks, more seriously.

"Dead."

Katsuki stops and looks at Shouto, studying him. Or perhaps he's trying to put together the chain of events that led to this. He huffs and stands back up. "Guess you are good for something, huh." 

Katsuki heads to the door leading out of the office, releasing the deadbolt with a loud click . As he swings it open, Shouto sees his eyes widen when he takes in the sight for the first time and he pushes himself to his feet to follow Katsuki out of the little office room.

"They weren't fucking kiddin' huh," Katsuki says under his breath as he begins walking down an aisle, running his hand along the shelf as he does.

Shouto knits his brows. "What do you mean?"

Katsuki stops and turns towards Shouto. "The rumors. That this town hasn't been touched."

It is as if he's stating something that is common knowledge. But Shouto had never heard this so-called rumor before, though he's never really been the rumor-sharing type. Still though, it didn't make sense why this town hadn't been looted when so many others nearby were. 

"If other people knew about this, then why are we the first ones here?" 

"Because of the horde, dumbass," Katsuki retorts. “People were avoiding it.”

Shouto raises an eyebrow. A horde? Hordes didn't exist anymore—not to Shouto's knowledge at least. They didn't need to. The virus had learned years ago that it's best chance of spreading is to literally spread out. Send in a few to take out many, rather than many to take out a few. But Shouto had seen the amount of blood and carnage in the street with his own eyes. He had seen the sheer number of hollows surrounding that hotel. 

Suddenly it hits Shouto. "Wait. So you knew there would be a horde here and you still came?" 

"I wanted to see for myself," Katsuki says innocently as he inspects a bag of potato chips, determining how many years past its expiration date they were. "High risk, high reward. Besides, nobody asked you to be a hero." 

He opens the bag of chips anyways and pops one into his mouth and Shouto watches as he chews and swallows it before grabbing another. So Katsuki really is crazy then. Shouto can’t imagine someone of sound mind willing running into a hollow-infested town by themselves, even with the chance of obtaining endless supplies. It’s a goddamn miracle he made it out alive, and he wouldn’t have if Shouto hadn’t heard that explosion. That thought makes Shouto flinch. 

Katsuki tilts his head and motions towards Shouto, potato chip in hand. "That was pretty stupid if you ask me. Running into a city with a horde is one thing. Running into a building with a horde is on a whole other crazy level."

Shouto doesn't respond. He supposes that wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done. But he’s glad he did. Leaning his hip against the front counter, Shouto crosses his arms, rubbing away the goosebumps as the chill of the night air gets to him. Katsuki goes silent for a few minutes, most likely replaying the events that took place in that hotel. Shouto watches Katsuki's profile and wonders exactly how many hollows the man took out by himself before he even got there. 

"Why did you do it?" Katsuki asks, finally breaking the silence, the suddenly serious tone taking Shouto off guard. It took him a second to realize what Katsuki was talking about. 

Shouto honestly isn’t sure why he did any of it. He’s not sure why he turned around at that burning barn hundreds of miles from here, or why he dropped everything and took off towards the sound of that explosion. Or why he risked his life in order to make sure Katsuki was okay—something he had never done for anyone, ever. But he knows he felt a sense of purpose, for the first time in such a long, long time. 

Shouto lets his lips pull up into a smirk and recants what Katsuki had told him the first night they met. "Give and take, right?"

Katsuki finally looks over at him, the typical scowl on his face missing, and Shouto is almost stunned at how serene he looks. He studies Shouto for a moment before huffing. “Smug piece of shit… ” 

Turning away, Katsuki heads to the coolers that line the back wall and returns with two large bottles of water. He places one on the counter next to Shouto, before leaning on his elbows next to him, twisting the cap off and downing half of it in one gulp.

“I didn’t think you were grateful for that,” Katsuki says quietly. He tilts his head sideways to look directly at Shouto, the moonlight giving his eyes a ruby-like appearance, and Shouto has to look away because staring at Katsuki right now is scrambling his insides.

“I never said I was," Shouto answers, sharply. But there's a tightness in his chest that he can't quite explain, especially with the way he can feel Katsuki’s gaze is boring into the side of his face. He turns his attention to his unopened water bottle, cracking the seal and taking his first sip, forcing the liquid past the lump quickly forming in his throat. 

They stand there together in silence for the next ten minutes or so, absorbing everything that has happened in the last… was it 24 hours? More? Less?  

Katsuki eventually finishes his water and steps around the counter, whistling as he scans the selection of unopened cigarette packs that line the wall. Shouto looks at Katsuki and then at the wall decorated with the diverse colors and names. None of them mean anything to him and he wonders if they do to Katsuki. 

Katsuki pulls a pack off the shelf and taps it on his palm a couple times before opening it and placing one in his mouth. “Light?” He asks around the cigarette between his teeth.

Shouto pulls out his box of matches, strikes one alive, and holds the match up to Katsuki. Shadows dance around his sharp features as the fire illuminates every scrape, every scab, every scar on his face. Leaning into the flame, Katsuki puffs the cigarette a few times, successfully lighting it, then inhaling slowly and deeply. Shouto watches as he holds the smoke in his lungs a moment before tilting his head back, exposing the long line of his neck and the notch on his throat that shifts as he releases of the breath, exhaling a stream of smoke and letting out a noise with it that—shouldn’t have but does—goes straight to Shouto’s groin. Heat crawls up his spine and he feels his cheeks reddening, his body reacting too quickly for his mind to keep up, so Shouto hurriedly looks away and takes another sip of his water.

“Fuck, that’s tasty,” Katsuki breathes out along with the smoke, seemingly unaware of the effect he just had on Shouto.

Struggling to reel his thoughts back in, Shouto hastily thinks of something to say. “You smoke?” 

Katsuki looks over at him with an expression that says ‘are you stupid?’, but Shouto continues before Katsuki can actually verbalize it. 

“I just mean—you can’t really find them anywhere anymore," Shouto recovers.

Katsuki glances down at the cigarette. “It’s been years since I had one of these kinds.” He moves the cigarette back and forth in front of him, watching the trail of smoke wiggle around in the stagnant air. “But in the town I came from, they grow their own tobacco there. Even use it as currency. So it was everywhere.”

Shouto had heard of this before—certain communities developing their own forms of currency. Anything from tobacco, to ammunition, to produce. It seems to vary wherever you go, but slowly these places were building up their own economies again, bringing back a sense of normalcy to the people. A normalcy that people like Shouto and Katsuki have never known. 

“Nothing beats one of these guys, though.”

Shouto quirks an eyebrow. "Can't beat the taste of added carcinogens."

The deadpan delivery causes Katsuki to snort, pushing smoke out of his nose and into the space between them. 

"Didn't know you could crack jokes," he says amusingly before leering at the off-white stick between his fingers. "Fuck it. We're all dying young anyways."

Katsuki takes his time finishing the cigarette as Shouto sips on his water and the silence between them is casual, even comfortable. No awkward formalities, no expectations. Shouto enjoys it. 

Before too long, the finished cigarette butt gets stubbed out on the countertop and Katsuki is pushing away from it, disappearing down another aisle and leaving Shouto to watch the thin trail of smoke rise from the discarded carcass alone. 

Katsuki finally reappears after a few minutes with a stack of assorted travel blankets, shoving the majority of the stack into Shouto's chest. “So you don’t have to sleep on the cold fucking tile." 

He then heads to the back office, leaving Shouto smiling to himself before he follows.

The next morning, the two of them form a plan to scope out the rest of the town and clear it out of any lingering hollows. Shouto suggested waiting another day for Katsuki to heal up more, but of course Katsuki shut the suggestion down. So they step outside the gas station and into the bright morning light to begin their mission. 

The air has a crisp chill to it and Shouto notices the first frost of the year covering a little patch of grass poking out of the parking lot. He crinkles his nose at the sight, then cups his hand over his eyes, squinting at their surroundings. It was quiet. Nothing except a couple morning doves cooing somewhere off in the distance. 

They set off in the direction of the hotel, figuring if there were still any hollows left in this town, that's where they would be. However, after arriving at it, circling the building multiple times (or what was left of it), and even stepping inside through the shattered window, all they find are the charred skeletal remains of the once horde. No sign of any hollow alive or… undead. Satisfied, they continue on with their journey.

Soon, they find that to be the case for the entire town, as well. Not a single hollow in sight. It's completely and utterly deserted. The town is decent sized, but it didn’t take long to traverse its entirety, and after about an hour into their search, the two start to relax, taking turns kicking a rock down the street and making passing comments about their surroundings. They move through an assortment of little shops and cafes, including a library and an old pub with a fully stocked bar—both of which Katsuki made note to revisit later. But it's when they turn the corner and happen upon an old record shop that Katsuki's eyes light up. He tries to play it off, but wastes no time pushing the shop door open, jingling the little bell on the door with their entry.

The shop was small, Shouto notices, but the amount of merchandise it contained was almost overwhelming. Every wall is lined with shelves full of old records organized by decade, then genre, then alphabetically. Slowly, Shouto walks along one of the walls, reading out loud the names of all the different artists, many of which he has never heard of—in fact almost all of them he hasn’t heard of. Music wasn’t really a thing in the Todoroki household, and he had only really ever listened to it with Inasa and Camie once he got older.

He walks a little further and finds Katsuki at the other end of the store staring at some weird object with a brass horn coming out of it. 

"What's that?" Shouto asks, walking up to him.

Katsuki turns to look at him, then back at the object. "It's an old hand-crank." 

That doesn't exactly answer Shouto’s question, but he assumes now that it’s some sort of record player. And the hand-crank implies it works without electricity. 

Turning away, Katsuki walks to one of the walls and thumbs through a couple albums before finally pulling one off the shelf and returning to the record player. He brushes the dust off of it and admires the simple image of a balloon with an anchor attached to it over a bright, royal blue background. Carefully then, he slides the large, black disc out of it’s protection and places it gently onto the player before grabbing the lever on the side and rotating it. Shouto watches with curiosity as Katsuki adjusts the stylus, placing it directly onto the record before finally releasing the crank.

Suddenly the tiny record shop is filled with the brassy sounds of a guitar and a kickdrum. It's loud and scratchy, and kind of difficult to differentiate between the instruments, but Shouto doesn't want it to stop. 

Well it would've been, could've been

Worse than you would ever know

The vocals kick in and Shouto is frozen in awe. Goosebumps prickle at his skin and his stomach does a flip, similar to when he was balcony hopping just a few days ago. Only this is a much different scenario. He pulls his eyes away from the machine to look over at Katsuki. 

Oh, the dashboard melted

But we still have the radio

Katsuki is looking down at the record player and smiling—truly smiling. No smirking, no gloating. Just smiling. And Shouto is mesmerized. He has only known Katsuki for such a short amount of time, but somehow he knows this is a side Katsuki rarely shows. 

Oh, it should've been, could've been

Worse than you would ever know

Shouto stares at him, completely forgetting everything else around them. Forgetting about the abandoned town, forgetting about the hollows. He forgets about his father, about Touya. All that exists right now is Katsuki and this little record shop.

Well you told me about nowhere

And it sounds like someplace I'd like to go

Shouto finally closes his eyes and lets the song carry him. He imagines a different life. One where slicing and slaughtering weren't a part of his every day. One where pain and tears weren't a part of his past. A life that had music, friends… Katsuki. 

That last thought has him opening his eyes again in search of the other man. But Katsuki isn't next to the record player anymore. In fact he isn't even in the store. Panicking, Shouto rips the stylus off the record player, abruptly stopping the music, and races towards the front of the store. The bell bangs loudly against the glass as he swings the door open where he finds Katsuki leaning against the brick wall of the adjacent building. His hands are threaded through his hair and gripping it tight and his right heel is bouncing up and down against the pavement.

Nervously, Shouto walks up to him. He looks like he's on the verge of a panic attack and Shouto isn't equipped to handle something like that.

"Are you okay?" he asks hesitantly when he reaches him.

"Fuckin' peachy," Katsuki snaps, dropping his hands and pushing himself off the wall without looking at him. "Let's head back."

Katsuki doesn't give him a chance to argue before he starts walking, leaving Shouto no choice but to follow. The complete one-eighty in his demeanor was so unexpected, and Shouto isn’t quite sure how to react. He thought Katsuki was enjoying himself. What happened that would cause such a drastic switch? 

Maybe it was his injury. That could be it. The two had probably walked close to five miles, which is a lot for a fresh injury as bad as his—or at least that's what Shouto tries to convince himself of as he walks silently behind Katsuki all the way back to the gas station.

Once they arrive, Katsuki mumbles something about needing a nap before disappearing in the back office, leaving Shouto alone, and Shouto tries not to dwell on it. The magazine rack does a decent job distracting him for an hour or so before Katsuki finally re-emerges from the office, scratching the bed-head out of his hair

"I'm fucking hungry," he says nonchalantly, as if nothing ever happened. "Wanna get a fire going?"

Shouto eyes him suspiciously before responding. "There's a grill out back."

So they grab a bag of charcoal, some lighter fluid, and a couple cans of beans, and head around the side of the gas station where the grill is located. Katsuki occupies himself by talking about how much better he could make the beans if he only had certain ingredients and everything seems back to normal. Or whatever normal is to the two of them. 

Once the food is prepared, the two take their seats on a couple of up-turned buckets and dig in.

"I noticed that the bar has a loft up top," Katsuki says with a mouth full of beans. "Ya sick of sleeping on the floor yet?"

Shouto takes another bite and looks up at the sky laced with purple hues as the sun disappears behind a building, and thinks about how nice it actually would be to spend the night in a bed. Plus he's sure that cot isn't the most comfortable thing either. 

"It's not that bad," Shouto lies. "But we can go if you want."

Katsuki scoffs. "You're a bad liar."

They finish their food, gather up their supplies, and head back out with the bar as their destination. 

It takes a fraction of the time to get there this time considering they now have a basic understanding of the town's layout. The sun has vanished completely during their trek, and with it any warmth it provided, and the two enter the pub quickly to escape the chill. 

Though it has been void of any life for nearly a quarter of a century, the place still has a cozy feel to it. It's small—some would even call it intimate—with half the room consisting of just the bar, the other half containing two booths and two high-top tables. Conveniently, next to one of the booths is a fireplace with a stack of wood next to it. Shouto wastes no time getting the fire going, ignoring the 'pyro' comment from Katsuki as he does. 

The orange light that fills the room brings a whole new life to the place, and Shouto can now see the multitude of photos, local sports memorabilia, and certificates that line the walls. He slowly walks around, appreciating each and every photo. Everyone appears so happy in them, either smiling, laughing, or clinking beers with another patron. Shouto can almost hear the atmosphere in those photos when he closes his eyes, but then a noise behind the bar steals his attention away and he finds Katsuki placing various bottles of liquor onto the bartop, along with two shot glasses. 

"Sit," Katsuki demands, pointing to the stool across from him. 

Shouto eyes him, and then the stool, and then the bottles before finally sitting. He was never a fan of alcohol. Though he's tried it before with Inasa and could admit the warm, fuzzy sensations were nice, the delayed reactions that came with it weren't worth it. Why would someone intentionally inebriate themselves? What was the point?  

Katsuki grabs a dusty, amber-colored bottle and pours two shots, pushing one of them towards Shouto. He then picks up his shot, holding it in the air, waiting for Shouto to 'cheers' with him, but Shouto just pushes the shot glass back. 

"I'll pass," he says, curtly. 

Katsuki, looking entirely too offended, drops his shot glass back on the table. He shakes his head and pushes the glass again towards Shouto. "No. Nuh-uh. I did not come here to get drunk alone." 

"It's not a good idea, Katsuki."

"Why? What are you scared of, huh?" His eyes flicker a color close to gold in the light of the fire.

"What if a hollow comes—”

“And kills us?” Katsuki interrupts a bit too aggressively. "Then you would get your fucking wish, right?" 

He picks his glass back up and waits, challenging Shouto.

Shouto glares at him, the fire in those eyes pinning him down. Finally, he grabs his shot and, while still holding his gaze, clinks the two together. He expects a smirk, or some kind of reaction from the man, but Katsuki's expression just falls slightly, into something that could almost be disappointment?—before he downs the shot in one gulp.

Shouto does the same shortly after, lips pulling up in disgust as the intense burn crawls its way down his esophagus and into his stomach. It tasted foul, like straight gasoline. He scrunches his face up and slams the glass onto the bar.

Katsuki snickers. "Too strong for ya, princess?"

“Shut up.” Shouto squints up at him. He can already feel the warmth spreading through him, like the whiskey has taken root in his stomach and is waiting to grow. But he pushes the glass back towards Katsuki, nonetheless, signaling for a refill. 

Quirking an eyebrow, Katsuki obliges, pouring two more hefty shots of the amber liquid. They clink and down the shots in unison this time, and Shouto notes how this one didn't burn as badly. And each one after that burns less and less until they are four shots deep and Shouto is feeling good. Okay. So maybe this is why people choose to drink this stuff.  

The two chat back and forth about menial topics for close to an hour, bullshitting with each other as the alcohol brings out more confidence in Shouto. He finds it’s easy to get a rise out of Katsuki and enjoys the way his face screws up after an offhand comment. He feels as though he’s bickering with one of his siblings. 

Slowly though, the conversations become more serious, and suddenly Shouto finds he has so much he wants to talk about with Katsuki. But only one topic stands out from all the rest. Explosions.

"Where did you learn how to build those bombs?" Shouto asks, hunched over with his arms folded on top of the bar as he leans into it. There is a pleasant buzzing in his head now as he watches the man across from him.

"From books,” Katsuki answers. “Libraries, schools, ya know." He leans back against the wall behind him, crossing his arms and Shouto’s eyes skim across a vein running up one of his forearms.

"You taught yourself?" he asks. 

"Yeah. It's not that fucking hard once you understand how it works."

Shouto looks aways from him and imagines having that kind of drive and motivation to learn something from scratch like that. 

"How did you find out about them?" 

At first, it seems like Katsuki doesn’t want to answer, but then his eyes drop to his feet, the crease between his eyebrows disappearing as he thinks. 

"Deku and I—one night when we were kids—our settlement put on a fireworks show" He grabs the bottle of liquor and pours a couple more shots, then slams his back before continuing. "Ever since then I was hooked."

Shouto takes the shot glass but doesn't drink it yet. He just runs his finger around the rim, processing what Katsuki said.

"Deku?" he finally asks, and Katsuki almost flinches when Shouto says the name. 

Avoiding eye contact, Katsuki instead chooses to look at one of the photos on the wall. "An old friend.”

Suddenly, Shouto is more interested in this Deku character than any explosion. The way Katsuki looks when he thinks about him—Shouto hasn't seen that look before. There’s a fondness in the expression, but there's something else there too. 

"What about you?" Katsuki interrupts his thoughts, looking back at Shouto. He leans into the bar top, shoulders hunched up with his hands out on either side of him, wrapped around the edge of the bar, accentuating the muscles in his arms. Shouto isn't quite sure what he's asking until he clarifies. "What's the deal with the fire obsession?" 

Instantly, Shouto’s chest tightens. He swallows dryly around the lump forming in his throat. Don’t ask that. Please, don’t ask that. His past was never something he talked about. Not Camie, not Inasa, not even Fuyumi or Natsuo knew what truly went on in that household behind closed doors. Only Touya knew, because Touya shared that same pain. Touya was the one person he could confide in. The one person Shouto could go to who actually understood.

Until he abandoned him.

Shouto's knuckles go white around the shot glass and he slams it back.

He can’t even trust Katsuki yet. He could still be one of Enji’s men sent to scope him out, to see if this Arsonist is truly the youngest of the Todoroki children. Maybe his goal is to drag him back to Enji, back to his father, kicking and screaming. Shouto will never go back. He'd throw himself from a building before any of that could happen. 

But if that were the case, then why did Katsuki so easily push him away the first time they met? And why was it Shouto who found him the second time? No. It wouldn’t make sense. Shouto takes a deep breath and tries to reel his thoughts back in. That’s not who Katsuki is. His heart rate slows back down as he manages to calm himself some.

"Listen, I don't give a shit if you don't want to tell me," Katsuki says after he was only met with silence. He lets out a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. "This conversation's getting a little too deep for me anyways."

Shouto completely relaxes. The warmth of the fireplace matches the warmth in the pit of his belly and Shouto surprises himself with how content he actually is right now. He'd even say he's happy, in the company of another human being—something he hasn’t been in years. Shouto thinks he could get used to this, just the two of them in this abandoned town, surviving with each other. 

He looks up at Katsuki, hypnotized by the way his hair threads between his scabbed knuckles. The alcohol has his head muddled, and his eyes don’t exactly want to focus on anything, but he can’t find it in him to care. He’s too busy realizing how pretty Katsuki is. Not just attractive in the obvious sense, but something about the way his features soften during times like this, and how he becomes almost another person entirely. 

“The fuck you staring at?” 

Suddenly Shouto is aware he’s been looking at Katsuki for entirely way too long. He feels his cheeks heat up and there’s nothing he can do to stop it, so he hurriedly looks away, mentally cursing himself for how stupid he must look.

Smirking, Katsuki leans into his space, so much that Shouto can smell the whiskey on his breath. 

“Is the princess a little drunk?” His voice is deep and velvety as he mocks him, and Shouto hates how put together Katsuki seems still after, what, six shots? Shouto growls and snaps his head back up. 

“Stop calling me th—,” but whatever smart comeback he had just thought of escapes his mind faster than a bullet leaves a gun. Katsuki is so close to him.

Shouto's mind completely shuts down. All he can think about are the little freckles that pepper the tip of his nose, and how good his lips look curved up at the corners in that smirk of his. And how much he wants to touch him. God, he wants to touch him so bad. He sees Katsuki’s eyes drop down to his own mouth, and Shouto fully blames the alcohol for what he does next. 

 Shouto purposefully licks his bottom lip and pulls it between his teeth, just to see what reaction he could get, and a wave of heat hits him deep in his gut as a low, barely audible noise escapes the back of Katsuki’s throat. Oh. This is interesting, he thinks. He wants to gloat and hit Katsuki with a clever comment of his own, but before he knows it Katsuki is standing up straight again, pouring himself one last shot, before stepping out from behind the bar, abruptly ending the excitement and leaving Shouto’s head spinning.

“You need to sleep,” he mutters without looking at Shouto and heads to the doorway leading upstairs. The disappointment at the rushed end to their ‘conversation’ tugs at Shouto, but he slowly gets up to follow Katsuki unsteadily up the stairs. 

Ever since he met Katsuki, he’s been struggling to get a good read on him. From the record shop, and now this—it’s as if every time Katsuki lets himself enjoy something, he has to immediately switch it off or cut it short. Like he isn’t allowing himself any pleasure. Shouto thinks that sounds absolutely absurd. Shouto struggles to find joy every single day of his life, but once it's there he doesn’t want to ever let it go. So why would someone torture themselves like that?

Once they reach the top of the stairs, they find themselves in one large room occupied by two single beds, a sink, refrigerator, and a bathroom. The room smells of stale, musty air and Shouto grimaces as he sees a rat scurry away in the corner of his eye. 

Katsuki immediately moves to one of the beds and rips the blankets off, inspecting them and shaking the dust out of it. Crinkling his nose, Shouto does the same to his, the dust causing him to sneeze a couple times and his head spins with the sudden movement. He then watches Katsuki strip down into his boxers and crawl into bed before doing the same himself.

“Try not to puke on anything,” Katsuki mumbles from his side of the room as Shouto attempts to get comfortable in the scratchy sheets. The copious amount of whiskey traveling through his bloodstream makes the room tilt, and Shouto wishes he could grab onto something to steady himself. 

Once his head finally hits the pillow, he glances over at the lump in the other bed. “Goodnight, Katsuki."

A few seconds of silence pass by and Shouto gives up on getting a reply, so he closes his eyes and rolls over, willing the sleep to come. His brain shuts down quickly and easily thanks to the alcohol and he’s not sure if it's in his dreams or real life, but a quiet response finally comes.

“Night…”

Morning comes too soon, and the pounding in Shouto’s head is the first thing that hits him. 

The second is the nausea. 

He lunges out of bed as his stomach burns and saliva fills his mouth, making it to the bathroom just in time to expel every last ounce of liquid from his stomach into the toilet. Gripping the stained porcelain, he opens his eyes and looks at the puddle of bile sitting in the waterless bowl. The sight makes him wretch again, muscles flexing as his body attempts to get rid of the poison. 

By the time he’s done, a thin layer of sweat covers him, and he shakily stands back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before turning around. All the memories from the previous night come rushing back to him as he sees Katsuki sitting on his bed with nothing but his underwear on, resting his arms on his knees and looking entirely too amused at Shouto’s suffering. Shouto groans.

“Aw, what’s the matter?” Katsuki mocks with a grin spreading across his face. 

“Fuck you,” Shouto mutters and shuffles back to his bed, falling onto it face first.  

Hearing Katsuki move around, Shouto turns his head to watch with his one eye that isn’t smushed into the pillow. He sees him walk over to his backpack in the corner of the room and pull out a bottle of pills and a jug of water, then return to Shouto’s bedside, holding the items out towards him. 

“Take them and stop bitching."

Groaning again, Shouto pushes himself up so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed in front of Katsuki. He grabs the medicine and downs it with almost the entire bottle before handing the water back. As he does, the nasty wound stretching across Katsuki’s abdomen catches his eye. It’s healing surprisingly well, Shouto thinks. No redness, no infection or irritation. He admires his job-well-done. 

“We should probably take those stitches out,” Shouto says, wiping away the drop of water that trickled down his chin. Without thinking, he reaches his hand out and runs his fingers down the uneven surface of the injury as he remembers the stressful situation they were in less than a week ago and, more importantly, how easily it could’ve all gone wrong. He feels Katsuki suck in a breath as his fingers reach the last of the stitches along the waistband of his boxers before his hand gets slapped away.

“I can do it myself."

Katsuki abruptly turns back to his bed, putting his clothes back on before heading downstairs to the bar area. Shouto sighs and falls back into bed where he lays in silence a while longer, waiting for the throbbing in his head to dull. He thinks about the night before, about the joking and bantering, about how easy and natural their conversations were. He thinks about golden-red eyes and scabbed knuckles. And he remembers how he wanted something more. 

But what exactly was more?

For the past five years he’d been out on his own, surviving alone. The only conversations he’d have would be a few here and there as he passed through a settlement, or some nasty words with a solo before they tried to kill him. Perhaps Shouto is reading too much into this thing with Katsuki. He thinks he can safely call it a friendship now. Is he being greedy for thinking there might be more to it?

Then he thinks of Deku. Who was this person? Where are they now? Were they really just an old friend? Shouto rolls over and stares at the ceiling, his mind racing around all of these questions, before he gets interrupted by a voice from downstairs.

“Oi, get your smelly ass down here!” Katsuki yells, his voice echoing off the staircase.

Shouto pouts. Smelly…?

He throws on his clothes and heads downstairs, happy that the drugs have finally started to kick in. He finds Katsuki sitting at the bar with, amazingly, a pot of hot coffee. It smells phenomenal. He sits down on the stool next to Katsuki and grabs a cup of the wonderful liquid and the two of them sip their coffee for a few moments in silence before Katsuki speaks again.

“I found a shower out back,” Katsuki says, looking up at Shouto from behind his cup. “With hot water.”

Shouto’s eyes light up and he looks at Katsuki in disbelief. “Seriously?”

Katsuki smirks and nods his head. “I got first dibs, though.” 

=================

Even with the sun high in the sky, the warmth it emits doesn’t counteract the cold wind that blows over the mountains to the north, and Shouto’s t-shirt just isn’t cutting it anymore. Both him and Katsuki head down one of the streets in search of some kind of store that might offer warmer clothing for them. 

They’ve been staying at the pub for close to a week now, while making trips to the gas station for supplies as needed, though they both know this won’t last forever. Eventually supplies will run out, or hollows will find them or whatever. But for the time being it’s nice. It feels like they're the only two people left in the world.

As each day passes, they grow more and more comfortable with each other. Katsuki offers up more details about the town he came from and Shouto learns the names of some of the people there. He smiles and laughs at the stories Katsuki tells, and despite him repeatedly calling them morons or idiots, Shouto can see how fondly he speaks of them.

He doesn’t talk about Deku, though. And Shouto doesn’t bring him up, either. As much as he wants to, he respects his privacy. Katsuki never pokes or prods Shouto about his past, and he wants to be able to return that gesture. So he makes himself content with the other bits and pieces of Katsuki’s past that he’s willing to offer.

Finally, the two stumble upon a clothing store that has winter clothes on display. Shouto finds a black double-layered fleece jacket and a pair of gloves while Katsuki picks out a leather jacket that fits him alarmingly well. Happy with their finds, the two head back out with no destination in mind.

For a couple hours, they walk around the town, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. This is how they spent most of the week. They stop in a few other stores here and there, and then the library where Shouto picks out some new books to help pass the time. They even go back to the record store and play through two full albums while they stretched out on the floor and bullshitted back and forth. He learns that Katsuki used to play the drums when he was younger. Shouto finds out this detail when he looks over and sees Katsuki with two pencils in his hands, drumming along with the beat of the song that was playing. With his head resting on his jacket, red and white hair fanned out around him, Shouto closes his eyes and thinks about how this could be true happiness. 

The sun begins to creep towards the skyline, and the two finally leave the record store and head back to the pub. They make it about half a mile before Katsuki stops them.

“Hold on. I want to do something,” he says, looking down a side street to his left before grabbing Shouto’s arm and pulling him. “Come here.”

Katsuki leads him down the side street until they reach an open garage where he finally lets go of Shouto’s arm and walks up to a white car that resides inside. Shouto decides to wait on the street as Katsuki walks around the car a couple times, whistling. Finally, he stops at the driver-side door and tries the handle. With minimal effort, the door pops open and Katsuki looks back at Shouto with a mischievous grin.

Shouto isn’t exactly sure what he’s up to. He supposes the car does look cool, even though he doesn’t know much about them. It’s white, and looks to be in very good condition with almost no visible rust. Two wide, steel pipes poke out from underneath it, which Shouto seems to remember is the exhaust. But most notably, it had a huge, white piece extending out from the top of it’s trunk, which made it look like one of the toy race cars that Natsuo would collect and keep on his dresser. He walks up to the car and runs his fingers along the back of it.

“What is it?” he asks, as if the name would have any meaning to him.

“A subie. STI to be exact,” Katsuki answers before disappearing into the driver’s seat.

Shouto examines the car a bit more before getting bored. He leans against the garage wall, crossing his arms and looking out towards the street, waiting for Katsuki to finish whatever he’s doing. A few more minutes pass before he finally decides to see what the hell is so interesting and pokes his head around the open door. He finds Katsuki hunched underneath the steering wheel with a mess of wires in his hands. 

Shouto rolls his eyes. “Are you serious?” 

“Shut the fuck up. It’s going to work,” Katsuki argues. 

Sighing in defeat, Shouto resumes his post against the garage wall. He hears another‘fuck’ from Katsuki as he no doubt shocks himself and Shouto decides he’s about to just start walking back by himself. But then a noise comes from the car, like a machine trying to start up. Then a rather loud POP shoots out from the exhaust. Then another and another, until finally, the car roars to life. Shouto can hear a ‘woo-hoo’ from the driver’s side before he sees Katsuki poke his head out.

“Get in!” he yells over the roar of the engine. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me."

Shouto pauses a moment before ultimately deciding fuck it and stepping around to the passenger’s side. He opens the door and gets in, looking over at Katsuki who has a wild grin on his face. 

“Have you ever even driven one of these things?” 

“Of course,” Katsuki exclaims, shutting his door and placing the shifter into reverse. The car jerks back and forth violently when he takes his foot off the clutch and Shouto eyes Katsuki skeptically. “... a while ago,” he adds.

With some effort, they finally make it out of the garage and onto the street, without hitting anything surprisingly. Katsuki straightens out the steering wheel and places the shifter into first gear. Revving the engine a couple times to show off, Katsuki then lets his foot off the clutch. Again the car lurches forward, but it doesn’t stall, and he manages to make it into second gear, then third before they break out onto the open road.

Katsuki then punches the gas and their heads simultaneously snap back as the car takes off. Shouto feels himself being pressed back into his seat and his stomach shoots into his throat as Katsuki shifts another time. The buildings are zooming past him at a remarkable speed and Shouto is actually scared. They race towards the end of the street when Katsuki suddenly slams on the brakes and whips the wheel hard. Shouto has to brace himself on the dashboard so his head doesn’t slam into it as the car spins 180 degrees. The tires make a ridiculous screeching noise and he’s convinced they're going to flip. This is it. This is how he dies. He survived twenty three years in a goddamn apocalypse just to go out next to some dumbass who wanted to go on a joy ride. 

But then the vehicle finally comes to a stop facing the same direction they just came from, the street quite literally smoking with their tire tracks. Still holding onto the dashboard, Shouto stares out the windshield with wide eyes and tries to catch his breath. 

His heart is pounding. 

He looks over towards Katsuki, who is breathing equally as heavy, but smiling twice as big as Shouto has ever seen. He then meets Shouto’s eyes. The absolute thrill emulating from Katsuki right now is palpable. As Shouto continues to look at him, he feels the infectious smile spreading onto his own face. Being with Katsuki is intoxicating.

And Shouto is starting to think he's an addict.

Before he knows it, Katsuki slams on the gas again, moving through the gears one after another, accelerating much quicker than the first time. Shouto grabs the grip on his door and stares straight ahead, watching as building after building whizz by them. The engine sounds as if it's going to explode if Katsuki doesn't shift again soon, but he does and Shouto realizes the sound is coming from the both of them. A mixture of screams and laughter fills the vehicle as the adrenaline flows through them. Again, Katsuki waits until the very last second to slam on the brakes, narrowly missing multiple cars as the STI's rear end kicks out to the side. The tires scream and the car spins and jerks to a sudden stop. That's when the engine makes an awful noise and begins to sputter. 

Every nerve ending in Shouto’s body feels alive. His heart is pumping, like he’d just escaped a horde of hollows. With a huge grin stretched across his face, he turns to look at Katsuki. But Katsuki is already watching him, eyeing him with an odd expression, like Shouto is an alien or something.

"What?" Shouto asks, his smile falling slightly and his eyebrows pinch together. 

Katsuki looks away and puts the car in park. "Nothing. Come on, it's fried." 

Katsuki opens the door and steps out, Shouto following shortly after. Stretching the tension from their muscles, they begin their trek back towards the pub, and Shouto never realized how boring walking is before. 

"Told you I could fucking drive," Katsuki adds a few minutes into their walk, like he was still offended Shouto even questioned him. 

Shouto chuckles. “I don’t know if you can call that driving.”

Katsuki shoves him, causing Shouto to laugh even harder as he stumbles. 

He stops next to a heavily graffitied wall and pulls out the pack of cigarettes, sticking one in his mouth. He then offers the pack to Shouto. But when Shouto declines, Katsuki urges him again.

"Come on, it's perfect after something like that," Katsuki claims, shaking the pack up and down like he's offering a treat to a dog. 

"Why?"

"Because. It's relaxing or some shit." 

Shouto is ninety-nine percent sure he just made that up. But he knows he has nothing to lose. And when has listening to Kastuki steered him wrong in the past? Besides almost dying in a fiery explosion moments ago. 

So Shouto takes a cigarette, placing one end in his mouth and pulling out a match, striking it and holding it up to the other end. He puffs a few times as he's seen Katsuki do and successfully lights the cigarette. Step one.

Step two: Inhale.

Fully aware of Katsuki’s eyes on him, Shouto breathes in through the cigarette between his lips and is hit with a sharp sensation in his lungs that immediately has him in a coughing fit. He tries to play it off, but it's rather difficult when he can't catch his breath. He sees Katsuki looking rather amused at his struggle.

"That was really relaxing,” Shouto strains out, the sarcasm dripping from his teeth as he glares at Katsuki, then at the cigarette between his fingers.

"Why are you so bad at things?" Katsuki snickers, taking the cigarette from him. 

"I'm only bad at things that could kill me." 

He watches Katsuki replace his unlit cigarette with Shouto's lit one in his mouth. He takes a long drag and Shouto watches as the embers glow bright orange.

"We can try something," Katsuki offers, flicking his eyes back up to Shouto, smoke escaping his mouth as he speaks. He smirks. "You can't be scared though."

Shouto wonders what more this man could possibly put him through in one night. He eyes him suspiciously before responding. "What is it…?"

"All you have to do is shut up and breathe." He then takes another slow, deep drag from the cigarette and moves towards Shouto, and Shouto wants to instinctively step back, but Katsuki's hand comes up to hold the back of his neck, keeping him in place. 

Shouto freezes then. His mind is going a mile a minute as the blonde invades his space. Everything is happening so quickly and none of it is what he expected. Katsuki's intense gaze stares right through him and Shouto feels naked all of a sudden, stripped of any and all defenses. His face is so close and the roughness of the hand on his neck has his stomach doing cartwheels. But then Katsuki closes his eyes and leans in, and Shouto somehow knows exactly what to do. 

Opening his mouth, Shouto breathes in at the exact moment Katsuki breathes out, the smoke leaving Katsuki's body and entering his own. He senses how close Katsuki's mouth is to his and he's afraid even the slightest movement would connect them. So Shouto stays frozen still, breathing deep until his lungs can't hold any more. 

Closing his mouth and turning away, he finally exhales the shared smoke and watches it tumble and swirl in the air between them before looking up at Katsuki from behind a curtain of red and white. Katsuki's eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with the lack of light. And maybe something else, Shouto wonders. They stay like this for a moment, in each other's space, just looking at one another. Shouto waits for Katsuki to turn away. Because he knows he will. He always does.

And so, Katsuki turns away, ending the moment, leaving an ache inside Shouto as they turn back in the direction of the pub.

=================

More weeks pass and Shouto figures they’ve been in this town for a little over a month now. The days are shorter and colder, and pass by quicker than before, though he will say that he is glad to be this far south. Typically, Shouto likes to spend his winters further north, where the weather is truly brutal, avoiding the overcrowded southern settlements and the influx of solos that come with that. 

But the nights here are still harsh. The two of them make sure to keep the fire going in the pub for most of the day and even into the night, letting it burn out on its own usually around midnight. Because of this, Shouto feels like they are constantly scavenging for firewood, heading further and further to find well-suited logs. Luckily, the hot shower is still a blessing, but the last of the propane tanks is slowly running out, so they only use it when absolutely necessary, now. 

Shouto occupies himself with reading a lot while Katsuki can usually be found tinkering with the random materials he managed to find to create more of his explosives. And they are content with that, spending the days alone in silence and the nights together drinking. Though they don’t get drunk so much anymore. There’s just a certain coziness to sitting by the fire, thawing the chill from their bones as they sip on something strong. 

One day, Shouto suggests that they spar with each other to stay in shape. The recent lack of hollows has made them complacent, and the normal push-up/sit-up routine just isn’t enough anymore. He didn’t have to ask twice. Katsuki jumps at the opportunity to throw some punches his way. 

It takes a few times, but once they figure out exactly how much the other can take, it becomes like a dance to them. Shouto quickly realizes how competitive Katsuki is, and how much he absolutely hates to lose. More times than not, these sparring sessions only end when someone is on the verge of passing out. Eventually, Shouto begins using these sessions as outlets for other things as well. Emotions can run high, and some days he hits just a little too hard and Katsuki bleeds just a little too much. But it’s okay because Katsuki always returns the favor. Shouto knows when Katsuki is having a bad day. He’ll ache for days afterwards. 

In their own fucked up way, they are there for each other when they need them to be.

"You know what passes the time really well?" Katsuki asks one day, hunched over on the floor with his attention on his current science project, resting his chin on his knee, and fumbling with wires and fuses.

Shouto doesn't open his eyes. He's far too comfortable in his desk chair, rocking back on its hind legs so he can rest his head on the uneven plaster behind him. He wants to complain, though. Since when has this guy ever wanted to pass the time? Plus, he seems to be doing a pretty good job of that on his own. Why does he need to involve Shouto? 

Instead of expending the energy to argue, he only responds with a lazy "Hmm?"

"I could suck your dick," Katsuki responds, nonchalantly. 

The simple statement has Shouto doing the mental equivalent of spewing out a mouth full of water. Katsuki spoke it so plainly too, as if he were merely talking about the weather. He picks his head up off the wall and eyes Katsuki, who is still fully focused on his task. Shouto feels his stomach do a flip. 

"Or you could suck mine." Katsuki adds that last one with a smirk, finally looking up at Shouto who suddenly feels like an idiot for thinking Katsuki was at all serious.

"Fuck you," Shouto responds as he lets his head fall back against the wall, crossing his arms and hoping to reach the same zen state he had achieved moments ago.

"Or we could do that."

Shouto chooses to ignore him this time, knowing it will only get under his skin. He grew up with three older siblings, so he's conditioned to see when someone is fucking with him. He keeps his eyes closed as he hears Katsuki shuffling around, silently wishing he'd accidentally set off that explosive he's been working oh so delicately on all day. Suddenly, a force sends Shouto's chair crashing back down to all fours and the momentum has his head snapping forward. He opens his eyes and is met with Katsuki’s foot planted on his chair, right in between his legs. 

Katsuki leans down, resting his elbow on his knee to stare Shouto directly in the face. "Come on, princess. I'm very good at it." 

His voice pours out like honey and Shouto can feel his ears heating up. He's fully in Shouto's space now, and the smell of various chemicals causes Shouto's nose to scrunch up. Nonetheless, he keeps his composure. All Katsuki is trying to do is get a rise out of him, but Shouto can play that game too.

"How do you know?" 

Katsuki's brows furrow. "Heh?"

"How do you know you're very good at it?" 

Katsuki straightens up and crosses his arms, annoyed. “What, you don’t believe me?”

Even with the other man physically towering over him, Shouto feels like he’s on top right now, and he’s enjoying every second of it. He cocks his head to the side. 

“That’s not what I asked.”

Katsuki's face twitches and he growls before dipping down again, this time placing his hands on the back of the chair, caging Shouto in between them. 

Shouto feels his hot breath against his ear as he speaks. “Want me to prove it to you?”

A shiver runs through Shouto. Fuck, his voice right then did things to him. His mind starts to conjure up images of Katsuki knelt down between his legs, face flushed as he's moaning around his cock. And just like that, Shouto threatens to crumble apart. But he stays strong. If history has taught him anything, Katsuki is doomed to lose this game no matter what. 

That doesn’t stop him from seeing how far he’ll go though.

Shouto turns his head slightly so that his lips match up with Katsuki’s ear. Blonde hair tickling his nose, he whispers, “Do it.”

The wood behind him creaks as Katsuki digs his nails into the backrest. Shouto feels heavy breaths leave Katsuki as he trails his lips along the shell of Shouto's ear. If he could melt, he would have right then and there. The touch causes his eyelids to flutter closed, and without meaning to, he leans further into Katsuki. Then Katsuki pulls back to look him directly in the face and Shouto's eyes shoot open as he quickly tries to collect himself. He sees Katsuki’s dark eyes bounce back and forth between his own, as if an internal struggle is going on behind them.

All at once, Katsuki stands up and takes a couple steps back and Shouto feels the familiar disappointment settling in his gut.

“Asshole,” Katsuki mutters, shaking his head before turning around and disappearing down the stairs. Shouto hears the front door to the pub open and close and he sighs, leaning forward onto his knees and running his hands through his hair. There it is.  

“I need to go get more shit,” Katsuki says the next morning, leaning his elbow on the bartop and blowing on his coffee.

“For the bombs?”

Katsuki nods, picking up the cup and sipping it audibly. 

“I’ll go with you,” Shouto then adds and Katsuki flicks his eyes up to look at him. 

“You don’t have to. I won’t be gone long,” Katsuki responds, curtly.

“It’s fine. I wanna grab a couple more books, anyways.”

Katsuki grunts and stands up, stretching his arms over his head. He picks up his backpack, sliding the baseball bat into the zipper, and swinging it over his shoulder. Shouto does the same, strapping the sheathed katana over his back as well. Leaving the gas-mask behind the bar where it has been since their first night here, the two head out the door and into the chilly morning air. 

Katsuki doesn’t speak at all once they begin their trek, and Shouto notices that this is not the same comfortable silence they usually fall into on these supply runs. It's tense, as if there’s something unspoken going on between them. But Shouto is unaware of what it is. Fighting with whether or not he should say anything, he glances over at Katsuki who is staring directly ahead, jaw set tightly.

“Is everything okay?” Shouto finally decides to ask.

“Yup,” Katsuki responds, quickly and sharply. But it doesn't make Shouto feel any better. 

Was this because of the flirting last night? Did Shouto go too far? That’s ridiculous though, because Shouto didn’t actually do anything. It was all Katsuki. Katsuki was the one who brought it up. Katsuki was the one who tested the limits between them. Besides, this behavior is nothing new. Shouto has become accustomed to this back and forth thing Katsuki does. He lets Shouto get close before ultimately shutting him off every single time. 

But the latter has never lasted this long. Usually Katsuki is back to his normal asshole self by the next morning. They continue a bit further in silence before Shouto decides he's fed up and abruptly stops.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?" He asks sternly, getting Katsuki to stop a few paces ahead of him. Katsuki whips around, his nose crinkled in irritation. 

"I said nothing!" 

Then it all happens so fast.

Before Shouto can react, his hands are pulled roughly behind his back and a cold blade presses against his neck. The pungent smell of sweat and body odor fills his nose as he's yanked backwards, flush against another body. 

"Drop the fucking weapons!"

He looks towards the direction of the voice and sees another man pointing a pistol at Katsuki. 

Shit.

He knew it. They had long overstayed their welcome in this town.

Scowling, Katsuki drops his bat on the ground as puts his hands above his head. He flicks his eyes over at Shouto, concern flashing briefly over his features.

"All of them," the man demands, pointing to Katsuki's waistband with the barrel of his gun, assuming he has more hidden.

Katsuki growls and pulls out a pocket knife from his pants, then a longer blade from where it was hidden on his calf. Finally he reaches behind him and grabs a pistol that was tucked inside his waistband. Shouto had never seen that pistol before. He stares at it as Katsuki drops all of the items next to the baseball bat and raises his hands again.

"Take whatever the fuck you want and leave," Katsuki growls at the two men. 

Shouto's arms are released behind him, suddenly, and the hand holding them moves up to grip Shouto’s hair, jerking his head back and pressing the knife a little harder. Now free, Shouto moves his hands to grab at the arm of the man's jacket, trying to create some distance between the blade and his skin.

“We already have what we want,” the pistol guy sneers, looking in Shouto's direction.

The man behind leans into him, pressing his mouth into Shouto’s hair. His stench is now overwhelming and Shouto wants to gag. But it's what the man says that makes his blood run cold.

"Fouuund youu," he sings.

Shouto stops breathing.

There's no way.

There's no fucking way.

The world around him becomes muted all of a sudden. His pulse is pumping so loudly in his ears all he can hear are his frantic thoughts. 

How, how, how, how?  

How did they find him?

His mind is slipping quickly. Repeatedly, he shakes his head back and forth in the man's grip, his mouth moving on its own, stuck in a mantra. 

"No, no, no, no, no."

Letting go of his hair, the man slowly trails his hand down the length of Shouto's body before stopping at his waist, and a wave of nausea rolls through Shouto. A satisfied sound leaves the man’s throat before his repulsive voice shatters whatever coherent thoughts Shouto had left.

"No wonder daddy couldn't keep his hands off you," the man purrs just before dipping his fingers beneath the waistband.

Shouto breaks. His hands fly up to the weapon against his neck, grabbing it and forcefully ripping it from the man's grip, nicking his neck in the process. Shouto acts on pure adrenaline. He spins around and plunges the knife deep into the soft tissue between the man's neck and shoulder, feeling the skin pop and separate around the metal. The man wavers and Shouto grimaces at the repulsive noise he makes as the blade shreds through him.

A searing pain in his arm occurs just a fraction of a second before he hears the gunshot go off. Shouto cries out and grabs his arm as the man in front of him slumps to the ground, a pool of blood quickly forming at his feet. Shouto moves to dodge another likely bullet, but a familiar sound stops him.

Then another and another. 

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

He looks up to see Katsuki, who had apparently moved at lightning speed, grabbing his bat and cracking the guy's head against the brick wall before he could get another shot off. The man crumbles to the ground and Shouto watches Katsuki repeatedly smash the man's head until it begins to blend with the pavement, not really processing the gore he is witnessing.

"Katsuki," he mutters, trying to get his attention.

Shouto stares with a blank expression at the man on the ground, completely unrecognizable now as Katsuki continues to bring the bat down on him. 

"Katsuki."

Katsuki finally stops and turns to meet Shouto, chest heaving as he catches his breath. Specks of blood pepper his face and forearms and Shouto watches one of the thicker drops roll his cheek and along his jaw. Suddenly, Katsuki is at his side inspecting his injuries and Shouto doesn’t fight him, standing there quietly as he wipes the blood away then ties his bandana around it. He thinks he hears Katsuki mutter something like'it doesn't look too bad', but he can't be sure. Everything around him sounds so muffled and far away, like he is standing in a soundproof box. He interrupts whatever Katsuki was saying.

“We need to leave.”

Katsuki stops what he was doing and looks up at him, hesitating for a moment before giving a swift nod.

Chapter Text

Time is of the essence. 

In less than an hour, the two hastily gather their things from the pub and make one more stop at the gas station for last minute supplies before they are back on the road. Shouto doesn't stop to discuss a plan or where they should go. He doesn't even stop for a glance back at that little town—the place he’d call home for over a month. If it weren't for all of the other emotions taking the forefront, he thinks he might’ve actually been sad. But he doesn't feel sad. He can't feel sad. Not when fear, panic, frustration are the only things his mind can comprehend at the moment. 

They found him. They fucking found him. The first time Shouto had stayed in one place longer than a week and they fucking found him. He's so stupid. How could he let himself get so comfortable? So complacent? 

He wants to be angry at Katsuki. It's his fucking fault he let his guard down. This never would've happened if Shouto was still on his own. But he can't be angry, either. Katsuki didn't know about any of this. Shouto has never exposed any part of himself to Katsuki. 

No, he had to find out like that. Shouto clenches his jaw. 

He can only blame himself, right? Maybe if he hadn't been a fucking coward and told Katsuki everything, then this could've been avoided. Maybe Katsuki would've helped him—taken him some place else, hidden him away somewhere safe, just the two of them.

He wonders how many people his father sent looking for him. Enji was a successful leader. He’d grown their little settlement into a thriving city over the years, turning it into something prosperous from nothing. Now it's one of the largest in the area. With so many resources at his disposal, the man is more powerful now than he has ever been. He, without a doubt, has the expendable manpower to keep searching and searching until Shouto is found. And knowing his father, he's making it out to be some grand rescue mission to bring his sweet baby boy back home. 

Shouto could vomit. 

He wonders if that means he's also searching for Touya.

He grimaces. Fuck Touya. 

Fuck him for leaving Shouto with that monster, all alone. Fuck him for not coming back to get him, or even check on him—to see if he was even still alive. He was only thirteen. Thirteen. Their mother had just died. Fuyumi and Natsuo were no help either. They had no clue what their father was doing. Though, despite his resentment at the time, he has learned to be happy about that. Enji was actually somewhat of a father to them it seems. 

But that fact only made Shouto feel more alone. At least when Touya was there, they had each other. They could talk about why daddy loved them so differently than their siblings. 

He clenches his fists as he walks. The light is quickly fading as dusk turns to nightfall and the highway they had been on for hours finally merges off into a residential neighborhood. Shouto has been in desperate need of water for some time now and his legs are beginning to ache, but those things hardly register to him. One foot in front of the other. That's all his body can do right now. 

Next to him, in his periphery, he sees Katsuki slow down a bit. 

"Shouto, stop."

But Shouto ignores him.

"Just fucking stop for a second," Katsuki repeats, grabbing him by the arm.

Shouto spins around and rips his arm out of Katsuki’s grasp, startling the man. The crushing stress and anxiety he had been under bleeds into his expression when the two look at each other.  

"We should rest here for the night." Katsuki's voice is a bit more timid than he’s used to, like he's afraid of what Shouto might do—hell, Shouto's even afraid of what he might do. 

Shouto shifts his weight and lessens his intensity some, attempting to smooth the edges of his demeanor. Turning his head, he looks to his right at the various houses that surround them before offering a small nod. 

Visible relief washes over Katsuki and he immediately heads to the house closest to them. Shouto just stares at the asphalt under his feet, picking at a string on his pants, his mind numb, while Katsuki surveys the best way to enter the house. He disappears behind the house for sometime before reappearing at the front door, swinging it open and beckoning Shouto in. 

Shouto walks heedlessly behind Katsuki through the dingy house. It's pretty much picked clean of supplies, but there is a bed upstairs with the blankets still on it, big enough for the both of them to get some rest. And that’s all they are really looking for. 

Dropping their gear, the two sit next to each other on the edge of the bed and Katsuki fishes a couple water bottles out of his backpack, offering one to Shouto.

“Drink.”

Shouto eyes the bottle in the dim evening light and it takes him a moment to muster enough energy to grab it. He feels as if his mind is on a delay, too preoccupied replaying that man’s voice in his head over and over again. No wonder daddy couldn’t keep his hands off you. Shouto wonders if his blood is still on the bottom of his shoes.

The dark specks on Katsuki’s forearm catch his attention, and he impulsively runs his fingers back and forth over the dried blood, needing validation that they were real—that everything was real, and not just a part of some fucked up nightmare that Shouto is all too familiar with.

Katsuki looks down at Shouto’s hand, watching as it grazes over his skin. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No,” Shouto responds too quickly, his voice coming out hoarse. He can't he can't he can't.

Katsuki grabs his hand then, halting its movements and successfully pulling Shouto from the trance that had taken over him. Shouto blinks a couple times at their connected hands, feeling the warmth seep from Katsuki's to his own, before finally looking up in search of his eyes, wishing to fall into the crimson sea that’s held within them—wishing to drown in it. 

Just let him fucking drown. 

His chest feels tight. He knows he's close to a collapse—to a full-blown fucking meltdown. 

Shouto stands suddenly, pulling his hand away from Katsuki and stumbling to the other side of the room. He needs space. He can’t fucking breathe anymore. He falls against the wall opposite Katsuki, using it to support his weight as he strips his jacket off and starts tugging at the shirt that is now suffocating him.

Why does he still affect him like this?

Six years. It had been six years since he last saw his father, but Shouto can still see his face as clearly as the day he left. It’s hard to forget when it's imprinted in his mind—ingrained into his very soul—hiding within him, waiting for Shouto to close his eyes.

He can still feel his scalding hands on his skin, gripping him tightly—leaving new bruises on top of old, never giving them a chance to fully heal. He can still smell him even. That musky stench that only grows in ferocity as the night bleeds on, as the beads of sweat roll down his bare chest and drop one by one down onto the tiny, pale body underneath him.

Memories flood him and Shouto becomes fully submerged under the weight of his past. He wants to laugh. He wants to scream. 

Maybe this is what insanity feels like. 

A new pair of hands are on top of his now and Shouto instinctively panics and rips them away. But the hands come back, gripping his shirt this time, shoving him into the wall. A voice accompanies them.

“Open your eyes, Shouto.”

It’s his father’s voice. Stern and demanding, carrying a weight that threatens to crush anything that disobeys it.

“Shouto! Open your fucking eyes.”

No. That’s not right. 

It’s not his, it's someone else’s. 

“Come on, princess. Work with me...”

Shouto's eyes finally snap open and Katsuki is in front of him, his hands balled in Shouto’s shirt as if he’s about to shake him, while Shouto’s are clasped around his wrists tight enough for the knuckles to go white. 

He's breathing so hard. The space around them seems to ripple and swirl, which Shouto finds odd until he realizes that’s just the lack of oxygen in his brain. 

He needs to lay down.

Apparently he says that out loud, because Katsuki responds with a 'no shit' before he’s guiding him back to the bed where Shouto collapses. 

He lays there, head swirling as his breathing finally begins to steady out, the renewed oxygen chasing the heavy fog from his mind. Somehow,  he registers Katsuki sitting down next to him and Shouto never would have thought someone's presence could be so grounding. He reaches out and grabs Katsuki's pants, needing to feel him—needing to know he's actually there. Because Katsuki being there, merely existing in the same space makes him better, makes everything better. 

“You good?” Katsuki asks after a moment of just watching him.

But Shouto doesn’t respond. He just stares at Katsuki. Because he can't be real. Despite the way the bed dips down around him, despite the warmth on his leg where Katsuki’s back barely touches it, he can't possibly be real. Because there’s no way this universe would offer someone like Katsuki to someone like Shouto. It just doesn’t add up. None of it adds up.

Maybe he isn’t real. 

Maybe none of this is real. Maybe Shouto had actually been killed—ripped apart by those hollows all those months ago like he had originally planned, and this is now some fucked up post-mortem mirage or something. 

Maybe Katsuki is his heaven.

He feels Katsuki shift on the bed next to him, leaning over so that he can see Shouto more directly, and bringing his hand up to squish Shouto's cheeks together, mimicking the gesture he'd done the night they had learned each other's names. 

The rough, calloused pads of his fingers instantly bring Shouto back to the present, chasing all the doubts from his mind. 

“Hellooo? Anybody in there?”

Shouto blinks and nods in Katsuki’s grip, feeling a bit ridiculous with the way his lips are jutting out. 

Huffing in acceptance, Katsuki drops his hand from Shouto's face but stays lingering in their close proximity just a moment too long, before he finally stands up and walks to the other side of the bed. He plops down next to Shouto, resting his back on the headboard and running a hand through his hair with a sigh, and Shouto realizes how much the day must have affected him as well. 

Mustering the energy, Shouto sits up and scoots back to imitate Katsuki’s position against the headboard, then bringing his knees in towards his chest. 

The two sit in silence for a while as the weight of reality washes over them. Shouto picks at a hangnail on one of his fingers, focusing on the steady breathing of the man next to him, subconsciously syncing up his own with it. Finally, he turns to look at Katsuki and with a quiet voice, he breaks the silence.

“I think… I want to talk about it.”

The next morning comes quickly, and Shouto tries to remember in his dreamlike state the last time he had been this warm—this comfortable. He opens his eyes, squinting in the bright morning light to see the back of Katsuki’s head resting on the pillow in front of him, his usual messy hair even more chaotic now. Smiling to himself, he lets his eyes follow the gentle slope of Katsuki’s neck to the severe curve of his shoulders poking out from underneath the blankets. There's a small mole on the back of his neck, Shouto notes, and it takes everything in him not to reach out and touch it, to feel the soft, uneven skin under his fingertip.

Instead he rolls onto his back and thinks about last night—about the way he poured his soul out to the man laying next to him. He watches their conversation play out on the ceiling above him like a movie. At the risk of sounding cliché, he very much feels like a new person this morning, like telling Katsuki everything had released some of the weight that was slowly crushing him, leaving it only a slight pressure now.

It felt so right talking to him, laying himself bare in front of the other man in a way he’d never done with anyone before. There was no judgment, no unwanted sympathy. Katsuki didn’t try to fix him. He just listened, knowing that’s all Shouto wanted. He just needed someone to hear him. 

There's a rustling next to him as Katsuki rolls over, and a warm, heavy arm drapes itself across Shouto's chest. He looks to his right to see that Katsuki is still very much asleep, his face soft and peaceful and his one eye smushed into the pillow underneath him. But the unexpected physical contact causes Shouto's heart rate to rise nonetheless. 

He continues to watch Katsuki’s sleeping form, eyeing a couple leftover flecks of blood on one of his cheeks before his gaze then falls to Katsuki's lips. And perhaps he has the morning haze to blame for his thoughts—that dreamy feeling when you first wake up, like you can do anything with no inhibitions—but for the first time, Shouto acknowledges how badly he wants to kiss him. How badly he wants to hold Katsuki’s face in his hands and feel those lips with his own, run his tongue along them and—

“You’re staring."

Shouto startles because Katsuki doesn't even open his eyes as he says it. 

Wait, he was awake? Was the 'almost cuddling but not quite cuddling' a conscious effort then? Shouto glances down at the extremity laying across his chest then back up when his stomach does a flip. Those two familiarly piercing eyes are open and staring directly at him now, and Shouto swears they glow with the way the morning light hits them—like Katsuki is some kind of ethereal being sent from above to smite Shouto if he ever chose to look away.

"So what if I am?" Shouto says quietly, his voice rough with sleep.

He doesn't know why he says it, but Katsuki's reaction makes it worth it. He squints at Shouto and tucks his head slightly, most likely in an attempt to hide the growing pink hues to his cheeks that Shouto so proudly notices. He then rolls onto his back, dragging his hand across Shouto's chest before leaving it entirely. 

"Asshole," he mutters.

No. Not this time. Shouto isn't ready for this moment to end just yet. With an unexpected confidence, he moves into Katsuki’s space, propping himself up on an arm planted right next to Katsuki's shoulder so that their faces are close and he's hovering directly over him, but not quite touching just yet. That's important. He needs to make sure Katsuki can still run if he wants to. He needs to know that Katsuki wants this as much as he does.

"What are you—"

"Let me try something," Shouto interrupts.

Katsuki is staring up at him with wide eyes as Shouto brings his hand up, anchoring his thumb under Katsuki's jaw and tilting it upwards, and before Shouto even knows what he's doing, his lips are on Katsuki’s. 

And suddenly, everything in the world makes sense. 

Katsuki is frozen at first, rigid underneath Shouto's touch, and if Shouto had any sense left in him he would have pulled away—should have pulled away. But finally he relaxes and brings his hand up to Shouto's side. The touch is feather-light as he trails his fingers up and down Shouto's ribcage like he's afraid to break him, and goosebumps bloom along the path of those fingers, sending a shiver down Shouto's spine.

The simple touch is almost electrocuting, but Shouto wants more. He sighs against Katsuki’s lips.

Then, suddenly, he's being tossed back on his side of the bed as Katsuki successfully swaps their positions, swinging his leg over Shouto's hips and straddling him. Hurriedly, he leans down to crash their lips together again, as if those few seconds apart were agonizing for him. 

This is the true Katsuki, Shouto thinks—the one that's been held back this entire time—the one behind the fortress Katsuki has built around himself. 

Shouto has needed this for so long, perhaps longer than he's even known him, and now that it's happening he doesn't ever want to let go. He feels like he could die without it. Like Katsuki is his oxygen and without him he would suffocate. 

Moaning into the kiss, he reflexively grinds his hips upwards, the thin fabric of their underwear allowing his quickly filling cock to rub against Katsuki’s. The other man breaks the kiss and sucks in a breath before dropping down to Shouto's neck, kissing and nibbling the tender skin there and drawing a gasp from Shouto as he works. 

It’s pure bliss.  

Katsuki then moves further down, spending time at his collarbone, nipping a bit harder, knowing the skin there can take more, and Shouto turns his head and moans into the back of his hand. He can feel the marks being left behind, one by one, before Katsuki finally abandons them to take one of Shouto's nipples into his mouth. 

Shouto gasps as Katsuki laps at it, swirling his tongue around it, then gently rolling the nub between his teeth. He is completely lost in the sensation and his eyes flutter shut when Katsuki grinds down on him again. It's almost painful how hard he is now. Every nerve ending in his body is awake now, vibrating with every touch—every breath that wisps across his skin, sending jolts of pleasure surging through him. They're singing.

Katsuki. Katsuki. Katsuki.

Bringing his hands back up, Shouto threads his fingers through the blonde hair, guiding Katsuki so their lips can meet again. Because he needs it. He needs it so badly. He dives his tongue in, and Katsuki tastes so good. Like cinnamon and menthol. Shouto wants to inject it into his veins like a goddamn junkie. He holds Katsuki there while they drink each other up, desperate to map out every corner of one another. 

Shouto never wants it to end. It should be a sin that it ever has to.

Then, Shouto's underwear is being pushed down and suddenly the friction of the fabric is replaced by Katsuki’s hand. He grasps his cock, and Shouto sobs into Katsuki’s mouth. It's so much, so wonderful. The new contact has him bucking into the welcoming warmth, needing more, more, more. But Katsuki doesn't move, and Shouto whines in protest. 

He continues to hold Shouto firmly in his fist, smiling against the corner of his mouth as he speaks. 

"Someone's a little eager."

Shouto doesn't respond, though. Because how can he with Katsuki on top of him, hand wrapped around him and his voice pouring over him, something he'd only ever dreamed of until now—dreams that paled in comparison to what he's currently experiencing. 

He bucks one last time into the grip before Katsuki regretfully withdraws his hand. He is about to complain until he senses Katsuki shifting around, unable to fully see what he's doing because their mouths connect again. Suddenly though, Katsuki's unrestrained cock is resting heavily on Shouto's lower abdomen, directly next to his own, and Shouto wants to touch it so badly—wants to feel the weight of it in his own hand. But then Katsuki presses their hips together, grinding their erections directly against one another. 

Shouto’s vision goes black. He throws his head back into the pillow and makes a broken sound as the velvety skin of Katsuki’s cock rubs against his own. The heat between them amplifies, both literally and metaphorically, and Shouto feels Katsuki’s cock leaving a trail of precum along his abdomen. 

Dipping down again, Katsuki takes advantage of the new angle, biting and sucking the point just under his jaw bone. 

"I love the noises you make," he says into Shouto's skin, and the statement alone pulls another broken noise from Shouto.

Katsuki times another thrust with a particularly sharp bite and Shouto’s hands fly down to grab Katsuki’s ass, feeling the muscles underneath flexing as their hips move in unison. It's clumsy and uncoordinated, but the desperation building between the two makes neither of them care. They continue to rut against each other like horny teenagers—like they had been deprived of any physical contact for years. Well, Shouto supposes that's true in his case.

He feels unhinged. He doesn't think he's ever felt this much pleasure in his entire life. Even those few times with Inasa can't possibly compare to this. His father was always in the back of his mind then. It was so risky, with him only a few houses away. Shouto would always be worried about getting caught—about what he would do to him if he found out—or what he would do to Inasa. 

Sometimes, if he would close his eyes while they were together, Inasa would disappear and his father would replace him. He would be the one holding him, caressing him. He would be the one cooing in his ear, telling him how beautiful and perfect he was while he thrusted into him, and Shouto would have to fight the urge to vomit up everything in his stomach.

But here, with Katsuki, Shouto is free.  

Taking matters quite literally into his own hands, he grips Katsuki's hips tightly, holding him still as he takes command of their movements, thrusting up into Katsuki as their cocks slide against one another, trapped in between the two of them. 

The pressure in his core builds quickly as Shouto bucks their hips together like a mad man. Labored breaths mix hot moisture with their sweat as their bodies writhe against one another until suddenly, Katsuki's hand grabs Shouto's hip, holding him down against the mattress and effectively stopping his movements.

"Fuck, you're gonna kill me Sho," Katsuki hisses, sounding utterly wrecked. 

Shouto makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a whine. "Nghh. Katsuki—please."

"Yeah?" Katsuki breathes into his ear and Shouto can hear the smile in his voice. "Tell me what you want."

Shouto struggles in his grip, trying and failing to get their hips to meet again, then puffing out a breath in frustration.

"I need to hear you say it."

Shouto shivers as the cold air from the room makes its way into the space created between them.

"Please. Just… touch me." 

He should be embarrassed with the way his voice sounds, but he can't find it in him to care right now. Katsuki huffs and Shouto can only imagine the satisfied grin spreading across his face. He finally releases Shouto's hip, only to wrap his hand around both of their cocks at once, holding them firmly in his grasp. Shouto let's his head sink into the pillow and closes his eyes, mouth slightly open as Katsuki begins to stroke them together. 

He lied before. This is the most pleasure he has ever felt. 

"No moving. Or you'll mess this up," Katsuki mutters against his ear before nipping at the lobe.

Shouto's head rolls to the side, unable to do anything, unable to think about anything besides Katsuki’s warm, rough hand holding both of them, pumping in a slow, torturous rhythm. He squeezes his eyes shut and grips the sheet under him as he focuses on laying still and giving Katsuki the control. 

"Fuck…" Shouto breathes the word and Katsuki chases after his lips, colliding them together again and swallowing up the noise. It's a welcoming distraction from the ever-growing pressure building within Shouto. He instead focuses on Katsuki’s tongue, his taste, his smell, desperately trying to commit every detail of the man above him to memory, filing it away somewhere safe—somewhere he can find it when he needs it most.

Then, Katsuki breaks the kiss and drops his forehead to Shouto's chest, his hand picking up speed as he lets out a long, deep moan. And Shouto thinks it's the most erotic noise he could've ever imagined. That's it. That's all it takes. The sound alone tips Shouto over the edge. His hips stutter and jerk forward as his orgasm rips through him, face frozen in pleasure while he paints both of their stomachs a pearly white. 

Katsuki isn't far behind. His breath hitches, and Shouto feels his grip tighten around them, his cock twitching against his own as the other man follows suit, his release hot where it mixes with Shouto's. Katsuki continues to milk out every drop they have to offer, causing Shouto’s eyes to flutter and roll back as the two of them ride out every last second of this ecstasy. 

At some point—Shouto isn't entirely sure when—Katsuki ceases his movements and Shouto lies there limply, his heart slamming against his chest.

Shit. Fuck...

What the hell was that? 

His mind is floating somewhere in the atmosphere as he tries to comprehend what the fuck just happened. It was so intense, so powerful. Shouto had never experienced anything like that before. It makes sense, though. This is Katsuki, afterall. 

They stay in that position for some time, statued in place as their breaths mingle together until finally, Katsuki pulls his hand away and sits back. 

Shouto looks at him from under heavy eyelids and appreciates the sight before him. The red flush extends from Katsuki's face down to shoulders and chest, and Shouto watches the muscles there rise and fall as he catches his breath. His blonde hair is impossibly messier and pushed back off his forehead, showing the beads of sweat that have manifested there. 

Shouto thinks it's not so bad of a look.

"You look good," he breaks the silence, his voice still a little too breathy, and Katsuki's face crinkles up at the compliment. 

"You look fucked."

He then climbs off of Shouto and stands at the side of the bed, pulling up his underwear and using the blanket to  wipe the mess off his stomach. Without looking back at Shouto, he grabs the rest of his clothes and begins getting dressed.

"If only," Shouto responds under his breath before crawling out of bed after him, hurriedly cleaning himself and getting dressed as the frigid air hits his hot skin. 

It's far colder than it was yesterday and once he is fully dressed,  Shouto walks to the window to glance outside, his heart sinking as he takes in the sight before him.

"It snowed," he says, glumly. 

Shouto glares at the offensive white substance that now blankets the street and neighboring houses when Katsuki joins him at the window.

"Of fucking course."

Snow was the downside of traveling in the winter. Not only will the trek be more difficult now, but it makes it about ten times easier to track somebody. And it's that last one that doesn't sit well with Shouto. 

He looks over towards Katsuki. "What do we do?"

Katsuki appears deep in thought as he stares out the window, considering their options. It's obvious they can't stay here. They're far too exposed, plus they'd certainly run out of food and supplies before the snow melts. Their only option is to keep moving. But to where?

Squinting up at the sky, Katsuki finally answers. "If we hurry, we can make it to Musutafu before nightfall."

Shouto eyes him, questioningly. "Musutafu?"

"Where I'm from," Katsuki states plainly before meeting Shouto's gaze with sincerity in his eyes. "You'll be safe there."

About an hour and a half into their journey, the snow begins again, and with it comes a sense of relief as it falls heavily from the sky. Shouto tilts his head back and admires the fluffy white flakes with a certain fondness he normally wouldn't have. It'll cover their tracks as they move, and their journey will be much less stressful if it continues. He glances over at Katsuki to find him more relaxed with the snowfall as well. The crease between his eyebrows is less severe, and his jaw isn’t as tense. 

The two haven't spoken much since they left and the further they go, the more their time spent in that little house starts to feel like a dream. But it was real. All of it. Shouto presses a finger to his collarbone for the third time that morning just to remind him of that. 

Images of their naked, sweaty bodies writhing together in that bed fills his mind and Shouto feels his ears heat up with the memories. Should they talk about it? Should they ignore it? Shouto obviously isn’t very experienced in this sort of thing, so ultimately he decides to stay quiet and allow Katsuki to take the next step. He doesn't want to push their boundaries any further than he already had.

Their surroundings are quiet as the heavy snow dampens the natural sounds of the environment, consequently amplifying the rhythmic crunch, crunch, crunch of their boots as they walk. Shouto buries his face in his scarf as a particularly harsh gust of wind blows through them, his breath melting the snow that had accumulated on the wool. The two of them look a bit ridiculous, dressed in layers of mismatched clothing they had stolen in an attempt to stay warm through this journey, but fashion trends had been thrown out twenty-five years ago, so neither of them mind too much.

Shouto eyes an old swing-set as they hop over a fence and enter a deserted park—the swings frozen in place as time had rusted the chains together. His mind fills in the blanks, providing images of kids cheering and screaming, competing to see who can swing the highest, their parents watching and laughing in the background. But as he stares further, the children’s faces begin to morph into those of his siblings, and Shouto has to look away. 

The two continue their way through the park when Katsuki finally speaks. 

"So what's with the fire?"

Shouto looks at him, the voice snapping him out of the past. "What do you mean?"

"You wouldn't tell me the first time I asked, so I'm asking again.  What's your obsession with it?" Katsuki clarifies. 

Oh. 

Shouto looks down at their feet, pondering the question. He knew Katsuki would ask about it again, but he doesn't really have an answer for him. Not a logical one at least. All these years, it's just been something that he does. It comforts him, he supposes, in a way he could never really describe. He racks his brain, trying to figure out the right words to put to it.

"I guess it's because it makes me feel like I have control over something," he finally answers, keeping his eyes glued to the snow below him.

That sounds right. It did give him a sense of control—powerful, almost. But somehow, that answer didn't feel like the whole truth, like it was missing something. 

Fire is a massively destructive force of nature, and watching his childhood home go up in flames seemed to ignite something deep within his very core. He felt so much pleasure watching the four walls of that fucking prison crumble and collapse—watching the light from the flames dance across his father's devastated face. Maybe he's spent all these years just trying to recreate that feeling.

But he's never even come close. 

Katsuki hums next to him and Shouto looks up at him expectantly, blinking the snowflakes off his eyelashes. 

"What?" 

Continuing to keep his eyes on the untouched snow in front of them, Katsuki's brows pull together in thought for a moment before he huffs and looks at Shouto, mouth drawn up in a grin that doesn't quite make it to his eyes.

"I figured you like watching other things fall apart because it distracts you from how badly you are."

Shouto's eyes widen at Katsuki’s words, and they hold each other's gaze for a moment until Katsuki finally looks away. 

It's amazing how well Katsuki can read him. It's almost frightening in a sense. All these years, Shouto had tried so hard to be an enigma—to stay just out of reach from anyone around him. No one has gotten close to him since he left his father. No one besides Katsuki. He's the first one Shouto has ever let in, and somehow the man already knows him better than he knows himself.

Shouto smiles sadly to himself as he considers the words, and returns his attention back in front of him. "You're probably right."

He doesn't have time to dwell on the thought, though. As the two approach a small brick structure—most likely the park office—what they see stops them dead in their tracks. Two forms are hunched over next to the building, red blotting out the white around them. The heavy snowfall obscures their vision and at first Shouto thinks it's a couple of dead animals, but as they take a few hesitant steps closer, he realizes that's not the case. They're not animals at all. And they're not dead—well, not alive either. 

And they're eating.

Shouto reaches for his katana at the same moment Katsuki pulls out his bat. The swift movement catches the two hollows' attention and their alerted screams shatter the peaceful silence around them. 

"Let's fucking go. I've been itching to gank some of these fuckers."

Katsuki hunches down, twirling the bat around and shifting his weight, waiting for the hollows to lunge like one would wait for a pitcher to throw a baseball. Shouto looks at him then back to the creatures and smirks, feeding off of the cocky energy Katsuki is giving off. 

Suddenly, with another screech, the undead take off in their direction. It’s a matter of seconds before they reach them, but Shouto notices how much the snow is affecting their movements. They’re clumsier than usual as the rotted skin of their feet offer no traction. It would be no problem to finish them off easily, but for some reason he doesn’t. He simply steps aside as the hollow targeting him springs forward, swiping at the air where Shouto had been standing less than a second ago. 

Shouto chuckles as he watches it stumble and fall into the snow before glancing over to see Katsuki toying with his as well, walking backwards as the creature pathetically crawls towards him after another failed attack. 

“Hey!” Shouto shouts towards Katsuki, gesturing at the sword in his hand. “Swap!”

Seeming to understand what Shouto is implying, Katsuki nods, and at the same time they toss their weapons to each other, Shouto catching the dented, blood-stained baseball bat, and Katsuki grabbing the katana. He twirls the sword around in his hands a few times and eyes the steel before giving it a few test swings. Shouto snorts at the fact that he swings it the same exact way he would the baseball bat. (Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to give him some lessons later.) Then, without hesitating, Katsuki swiftly brings the blade down, slicing clean through the hollow’s neck and separating it’s head from the rest of it. 

The body collapses lifelessly into the snow as the head rolls to Katsuki’s feet, still snapping its jaws at him. Disgust contorts Katsuki’s features as he looks at the decrepit thing before stomping his foot down on top of it. The skull crumbles easily under the weight of his boot, and blood and brain matter squish out between the bone fragments and into the snow. Shouto cringes at the sound it makes. 

“Eck. Come on, it’s all over my boots,” Katsuki grimaces, trying to wipe some of the gore off in the snow.

Shouto chuckles. “What did you expect?” 

Shouto sidesteps another swing from his hollow before fully returning his attention to it, feeling the weight of the bat in his hand. Squaring his hips up, he watches the hollow get back on its feet and prepare for another attack. Then, just before the thing reaches him, Shouto draws the bat backwards and, with all his might, swings it directly at the rotted head. He feels the wood make contact with bone just before it’s skull shatters like an eggshell. Thick, black blood sprays off the wood, shooting out in a half-circle around them as Shouto follows through with the swing. Enjoying the rush of adrenaline, he watches the snow beneath soak up the blood like a sponge as the creature's body crumbles to the ground. 

He wants to go five more rounds with the thing. There was something savage, almost barbaric, about the way he felt using the weapon. It wasn’t neat and clean like his katana. It was vicious and brutal, messy and imperfect, but Shouto felt alive when he swung it. The same way he feels around Katsuki. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Shouto looks over at Katsuki, who is walking towards him, balancing the blade on his shoulder. He then eyes the baseball bat in his own hands, the blood rhythmically dripping off the tip of it and painting the snow underneath like an artist would a canvas. 

“Yeah,” he answers with a smile. 

Burying his face in his scarf, Katsuki turns and heads towards the body lying next to the building. “Come on. Let’s see if that poor fucker had anything good on him.”

Shouto had almost forgotten about it. His pulse quickens at the thought of it being someone sent from Enji’s compound and he has to reel his thoughts in before they go too far out of control. He clenches his jaw as they approach the body.

"It's just a fucking solo," Katsuki comments as he steps up to the corpse.

Shouto relaxes. The hollows had done a number on the man, that’s for sure. His entire chest cavity is ripped open and various organs are left hanging outside of it. The smell of bowels and undigested stomach contents reaches Shouto's nose and he cringes, bringing the back of his hand up to his face and looking away as Katsuki leans down and begins rummaging through the man’s pockets. 

“He’s still warm,” he comments, finding nothing until he pulls a pistol out of the man’s waistband. 

Katsuki brings the gun up to his face and rotates it around, inspecting it. He then pops the magazine out and turns it upside down, attempting to empty the bullets into his hand, only to find that there are none. Letting out an annoyed growl, he tosses the pistol and magazine into the snow before standing back up.

“Let’s keep going,” he says from behind the scarf and starts back in the same direction they were headed. 

Shouto doesn’t argue. 

They continue for a few more hours, resting only briefly to eat and refuel their muscles before starting out again. The snow had stopped a couple miles back, and the renewed sense of urgency keeps their pace quick, the two of them eager to reach Musutafu before nightfall. 

Shouto’s face had gone numb a while ago, but he preoccupies himself by thinking back to the disfigured body of the man lying in the snow and the discarded pistol next to him. He then remembers that mysterious pistol that Katsuki has. Shouto had never seen him use it or even mention it really. It’s almost as if he purposefully keeps it hidden. 

Though it’s not entirely that strange that he had never seen Katsuki use it. Ammo is scarce and guns are loud. One shot and hollows from miles around will be on their way. But why wouldn’t he use it in that town—back when those two horrible men found them? The noise risk had already been thrown out the window when that asshole decided to shoot at Shouto. And, as quick as Katsuki was to attack the man, certainly the gun would’ve been quicker. 

Perhaps he doesn’t have any bullets?

“Do you have ammo for your gun?” he asks, realizing how out-of-the-blue the question is.

Katsuki looks over at him, quirking his eyebrow suspiciously. “Why?”

“It’s just… I’ve never seen you use it. Is that the reason?”

Katsuki looks back ahead of him, his voice a notch quieter than a second ago.

“I have one bullet.”

Shouto thinks that is a good enough excuse to never use it. Perhaps he’s saving that one bullet for a dire situation. He contemplates leaving the conversation there, but decides the small talk is kind of nice.

“Where did you—”

“I’m not fucking talking about this,” Katsuki interrupts, startling Shouto with his bluntness. “It’s getting dark, we need to stay focused.”

That was strange. Shouto wants to argue but he knows it’ll only make the rest of the trip that much harder, so he keeps his mouth shut, and continues putting one foot in front of the other.

A couple more hours pass, and dusk is finally setting in. They’ve been traveling on a road with two massive mountains on either side of it, and between that and the quickly diminishing light, Shouto is starting to question if they're still going in the right direction at all. Neither of them have said anything since that last conversation, saving their breath and energy for the singular goal of reaching their destination, but Shouto wants to ask if he even knows where they are. He has a feeling it’ll set Katsuki off again, though. There’s been something strange—something tense about his demeanor the closer they got. Finally, though, as if the universe knew what he was thinking, the valley opens up, revealing what the two of them have been chasing after. 

Hidden behind one of the mountains is an enormous city. 

That’s it, it has to be. 

It’s huge. Shouto stares in awe at the cluster of massive buildings standing behind the colossal walls made up of bricks, wood, steel and other various substances that surround the city. Illuminated by torches are two massive gates leading into the city, and his heart beats with anticipation. The last community he’d been to that was this established was his father’s, but back then it didn’t even compare to what he can see of Musutafu now. 

Suddenly, Katsuki stops next to him.

“Hey," he mutters, voice rough with neglect. 

Shouto stops then, as well, Katsuki's voice pulling his eyes away from the city. “Yeah?”

“Before we go in there, I need to know something.” Katsuki looks down, gazing intently at the space in between them. His voice is quiet but stern, and his expression is hesitant but serious. 

Shouto doesn’t like that look.

“Okay?” 

Katsuki sniffles with the cold air and hides his face in the scarf, his voice coming out slightly muffled now. 

“What’s your end goal here?” 

He finally looks up at Shouto, waiting for his answer, but Shouto has no idea what he's talking about. His brows draw together in confusion. “What do you mean…?”

Clicking his tongue as if he’s annoyed he has to spell it out, Katsuki looks away again, anger now pinching up his face. Shouto watches his fists clench and relax, and he can see how much Katsuki is physically struggling to get the words out.

“I mean… are you… Do you still want to… die?” 

The question alone takes Shouto off-guard, but it's the pain in Katsuki’s voice that's like an unexpected punch to his chest. 

In the next second, though, that pain is masked with anger, the transition so quick and seamless and practiced to perfection. Katsuki spits out the next words like a venom. “Because I’m not taking you in there if you’re just gonna try to fucking kill yourself again.”

Shouto flinches at the bite to his words. Then his heart sinks as Katsuki’s eyes flick up to meet his again and the faint light of the distant torches reflects off of unfallen tears. 

No. This isn't fair. 

He stares at the other man and thinks about how badly he wants to say no, how badly he wishes to lie—to tell Katsuki he wants to live. It's just one word. One. Simple. Word. But he can't. Nothing has changed—not really. Shouto's scars are too deep. They’re carved into his bones. They define who he is now, and nothing can change that.

Katsuki isn't enough. No one is.

Ripping his eyes away, Shouto blinks down at the snow because he can't possibly look at Katsuki when he answers.

"I… I don't know." 

And he leaves it at that, because somehow it sounds better than yes.  

Shouto stands there, waiting to be screamed at—to be told to turn around—to be told how much of a fucking waste of time this all was. It’s what he deserves honestly, despite how badly he isn't ready to let go of this—how badly he isn’t ready to let go of Katsuki.

He always said he was selfish, right? 

Shouto’s lip curls up in self-loathing.

To his surprise, Katsuki doesn't say any of those things, though. Instead, he stays silent for a long, long time, and Shouto bites the inside of his cheek as he waits, too scared to look up at the other man—too scared to acknowledge their end. 

Time moves too slowly, too painfully until he finally hears the quiet crunching of Katsuki’s boots in the snow.

"Come on," Katsuki mutters softly, walking past him.

Letting out a breath, he turns around to watch Katsuki with wide eyes continue on towards the city, their destination, Shouto's safety. And there’s this feeling inside of him that he knows deep down he should run away from. It’s something that’s about to ruin him—something that’s about to ruin both of them.

But he’s selfish.

So Shouto follows. 

Chapter Text

"BAKUGOU!!"

A rather large, burly guy with unnaturally red hair comes barrelling towards Katsuki and Shouto the second they walk through the massive gates. The pure size of the guy was menacing enough, and Shouto would have been reaching for his sword if it weren't for the enormous grin stretched across the man's face.

"It's been so long!" The man grabs Katsuki’s shoulders and starts shaking him around, and Shouto can't stop himself from snorting at Katsuki’s expression as his head wobbles back and forth. "Where have you been, dude?"

"Get off me you brute," Katsuki grumbles, shoving at the man's chest. "And it's none of your business."

The guy takes a few steps back and looks at Shouto, scanning him before his smile grows even more. 

"And you made a friend!"

Shouto quickly glances over at Katsuki, clearly uncomfortable in this unexpected social situation, though the man doesn't seem to notice and therefore makes no effort to back down. He thrusts his hand out towards Shouto. 

"Kirishima Eijiro."

Shouto hesitates for a moment, narrowing his eyes at the massive hand before finally reaching out with his own, grabbing it and shaking it up and down twice. 

"Shouto." His hand is warm and rough, littered with callouses, yet Shouto feels a gentle presence reverberating off of him. 

Kirishima pauses, waiting for Shouto's surname before ultimately realizing he isn't going to get it. So instead he pulls his hand away and bows his head with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Shouto."

Tucking his hand back inside his coat pocket, Shouto politely returns the gesture. This man seems so genuine, so endearing and it feels a lot like a breath of fresh air. He's the first person Shouto has come across in the past year that hasn't tried to kill him. Besides Katsuki of course—although he still had his moments. 

Grumbling next to him, Katsuki grabs Shouto’s arm and starts dragging him away. "Introductions can wait 'til tomorrow," he says, pulling Shouto past Kirishima. "We're fucking exhausted."

"IS THAT BAKUGOU?"

"Jesus christ..." Katsuki groans, stopping and throwing his head back in defeat. 

Looking over to the source of the new voice, Shouto finds a dark-skinned girl with wild pink hair tied up in two high pigtails running up to them.

"No wayyyy!" She draws her voice up an extra octave as she finishes her statement. Then she literally jumps on Katsuki, wrapping her arms around his neck as she continues to make various high-pitched squeaks. 

Katsuki drops Shouto's arm in order to squeeze his own in between him and the girl, effectively prying her off of him. "You all are a bunch of fucking leeches, ya know that?"

The girl puffs her cheeks out in exaggeration after her feet connect with the ground again and Shouto smiles, finding it rather amusing watching Katsuki interact with these people. He remembers some of the stories Katsuki had told him back at that little pub and it's nice to be able to put a face to them. 

"Who's Mr. Hottie here?" she asks, jutting a thumb in Shouto's direction, and Kirishima audibly clears his throat next to her, causing the girl to turn and roll her eyes at him before slinging an arm around his waist. "I mean Mr. Almost As Hot As My Boyfriend." 

"Oh my god," Katsuki grumbles, throwing his head back again and dragging his palm down his face, as if the scene playing out in front of him was utter torture to witness.

"My name's Shouto," he says again, awkwardly adjusting the straps of his backpack. 

"Mina!" the girl says, shooting her hand out towards him while still hunched over, hugging Kirishima. Shouto shakes her hand as well, his smile coming to him easier this time.

These people have already put him more at ease than he ever would have been on his own, and they haven't even said more than a few sentences to him. He's beginning to understand why Katsuki brought him here. But what he can't understand is why Katsuki would ever leave this place to begin with. Why would he choose the bitter wilderness over warm beds and friendly faces? 

Shouto looks towards Katsuki to find his shoulders a bit less tense and his expression slightly softer after watching Mina's and Shouto’s exchange. Clearly, this place has an impact on him as well.

Katsuki cocks his head and looks between Mina and Kirishima. "Can we go now?"

"Yes, you boys can leave now. But we're getting drinks tomorrow night to celebrate!" Mina exclaims, finally releasing her boyfriend's waist.

"Fine. Whatever." Katsuki waves her off as he begins to turn around, but then briefly stops to look at Kirishima. "Still got that room open?"

"Always," Kirishima answers with a warm smile.

With that, Katsuki finally turns around, choosing not to wait for Shouto as he heads into the city. 

"Nice to meet you," Shouto says, quickly giving the couple one final nod before catching up to Katsuki. 

The city was absolutely breathtaking. Shouto cranes his neck to look up at the huge buildings as the two of them walk through the streets. They are surprisingly well-maintained, almost as if the outbreak had never touched this place. The hum of multiple generators can be heard as they send power to some of the buildings, and Shouto admires the faint glow of lights coming from some of the windows. 

Everything about it is so surreal to Shouto. It feels like another world entirely.

And there are people. So many people. The streets of Musutafu are alive with the hustle and bustle of its residents as they finish up their daily chores and errands, or whatever it is they do to keep the city up and running. 

The sheer number of people moving around them should have Shouto's anxiety through the roof, but he's surprisingly fine, finding himself more fascinated than anything else.

Finally, Katsuki stops them at the doorsteps of what looks to be a small townhouse huddled in the middle of a row of identical structures. Shouto follows him up the steps and watches Katsuki open the front door, noting how it wasn't locked. It was rare these days for communities to lock their doors anyways, most likely the keys had been long since lost, with no way of making new ones. 

Shouto can't see much as he enters the house behind Katsuki, so he stands in place as Katsuki moves to light the wood in the fireplace. Kneeling in front of it, he quickly stokes the flames to life and instantly, Shouto can feel the warmth it emits and walks over to join Katsuki, holding his hands up to the heat as he stares into it. The ice melts from his bones and his eyelids grow irresistibly heavy as he watches the flames dance around the bricks. He's about to lay down right there and succumb to the exhaustion before Katsuki grabs his arm and pulls him back up.

"There's a bed, idiot," he says, obviously noticing how drained Shouto is. "And a shower. With hot water."

Shouto's eyebrows shoot upwards, disappearing behind his hair. Running water? Hot water? This place truly is from another world.

Katsuki smirks at Shouto’s reaction. "Pikachu rigged this place up nice. Don't worry, though. He worked out all the kinks before any of us used it."

"Pikachu?" Shouto questions the odd name.

"Denki. You'll probably meet him tomorrow."

Katsuki leads Shouto down a short hallway and into one of the bedrooms. It's small, like the rest of the place, barely big enough for a bed and a dresser, but it's nothing to complain about. With a heavy thud, Katsuki drops his backpack on the floor and rolls his shoulders a few times. Shouto does the same and it's the most relief he's felt all day. He turns then to glance around the room.

"You always stay here?" He asks, eyeing the well-made bed in front of them.

"Whenever I stop by. It’s Ei’s place, but he keeps his spare room open," Katsuki responds. He walks over to the dresser and opens a few of the drawers, running his hand through the items they contained before continuing. "We can find you a place to stay tomorrow."

Shouto frowns at Katsuki’s back. 

A place to stay? 

He doesn't want a place to stay. He wants to stay here, with Katsuki. He thought that was the plan, but obviously Katsuki didn't, and Shouto feels like an idiot for even thinking that was a possibility—for thinking how they spent that morning had changed anything between them. Of course it didn't. If anything, Katsuki did it because he felt bad for Shouto. Just a pity-fuck after Shouto had bared his soul to him the night before.

Shouto grimaces. He can't imagine sleeping alone again, not after spending every single night of the last month and a half with Katsuki. He'd gotten used to the comfort his presence brings him, even if the majority of it was spent in separate beds. He found solace in the steady sound of his breathing from across the small loft, and he'd smile to himself when Katsuki would mutter something in his sleep. Shouto can't imagine his night in a cold, quiet bed again, with nothing and no one to keep the memories at bay.

Katsuki turns and tosses a towel to Shouto, pulling him away from the ugly thoughts. 

"Shower's across the hall."

Shouto looks down at the towel and suddenly, the thought of a hot shower trumps everything else in that moment. 

Shouto wakes before Katsuki the next morning. He watches the sleeping form next to him for a few seconds before yawning and finally rolling out of bed. The dim morning light peeking through the windows guides his way to the living room where he settles next to the fireplace, working quickly to bring it back to life. 

Kirishima must still be asleep, so Shouto enjoys the peacefulness of the fire by himself. He turns and looks around the room, able to see the layout clearly now. The living room itself is small, only furnished by a single couch and chair, and it connects directly to the kitchen—the two rooms separated by a half-wall that serves as a breakfast bar. Multicolored, hand-stitched pillows decorate the furniture, single-handedly brightening the room, giving it a homey feel that Shouto is surprised he’s able to appreciate. 

The walls of the room are adorned with artwork—some old, some new—and as he walks around admiring the pictures, a small framed photo sitting on the end table catches his attention. To Shouto’s curiosity, it is a recent photo—one of Kirishima and Mina. They appear to be standing in front of the townhouse, and Kirishima has the biggest grin on his face as Mina is on her tippy-toes, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s a polaroid.”

The voice startles Shouto and he turns to the hallway, finding Kirishima leaning against the wall, watching him. The man looks even bigger now in the tiny townhouse. He’s only wearing a pair of lounge pants, and Shouto scans the multiple scars across his bare chest, the imperfections a stamp of approval for living in this fucked up world. 

Shouto turns back to the picture. “Polaroid?”

“They're super hard to find nowadays. But our friend has one. Her parents used to be photographers in the old world. Somehow, they managed to keep the film safe after all these years.”

As Shouto admires the photo, Kirishima makes his way to the kitchen, rustling some pots and pans before he returns to the fireplace with one of the pots in hand. Shouto watches him set up a wire stand and place the pot over top of the fire. Before too long, the aroma of coffee fills the tiny room. 

Abandoning the photo, Shouto sits down on the couch next to Kirishima as they wait for the coffee to brew. He notes how oddly relaxed the man is for having a complete stranger next to him. Perhaps that’s just how much he trusts Katsuki though—trusts that he would never bring someone dangerous into his home. 

“So, how did you meet Katsuki?” Kirishima asks after a few minutes of silence. He leans forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, and glances over at Shouto.

Shouto thinks for a moment about how to answer, before deciding to stay as vague as possible. “We met in a town not too far from here. Took down a few hollows together.”

Kirishima laughs. 

“And what? You two just decided to become best buds after that?” His tone of voice tells Shouto that there’s no way Kirishima would believe that even if it were true.

“Not exactly,” Shouto adds. “The hollows kept us held down in an old apartment building for about a week.”

“Ah, that makes more sense. So you were forced to spend time together.” Kirishima stands up to check on the coffee and chuckles. “Sorry dude. That must’ve been rough.”

Shouto huffs. “So you must know him well.”

“Ever since we were kids,” the man states, taking the pot off the rack before heading to the kitchen. “I know that dude better than he knows himself.”

"Stop talking about me.”

Shouto glances towards the familiar, gravelly voice to see Katsuki standing in the hallway, rubbing his eyes. The black tank-top he’s wearing is something new, and Shouto finds himself admiring the way it clings to his chest. 

“Speak of the fucking devil,” Kirishima exclaims, looking up from the mugs he was placing on the counter.

“Just shut up and give me some coffee,” Katsuki grumbles as he takes a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and yawns. 

Shouto gets up to join him at the bar and Katsuki glances over at him as he takes his seat. Grabbing the mug offered to him, Shouto nods his head at Kirishima and blows on the steaming liquid, appreciating how it warms his hands as he’s holding it. Katsuki grabs his as well and places it down before leaning into the countertop and resting his head in his hands.

“Sleep well?” Kirishima asks, finally pouring his own cup.

“Like a fucking baby,” Katsuki responds. “Where’s Pinkie?”

“Still sleeping. She had a rough night.” He adds that last part with a wink, and Shouto deduces that Pinkie must be Mina.

“Gross,” Katsuki groans as he sits upright again, grabbing the cup and taking a small sip.

Chuckling, Shouto begins sipping his own cup, enjoying the taste of the homebrewed liquid. The two continue to make small talk, seemingly picking right back up where they left off, while Shouto is content to just listen in silence, appreciating the comfortable atmosphere of Kirishima’s home. 

He finds himself enamored by the relationship the two of them have. It’s very obvious they had known each other all their lives, growing up and surviving together in this wretched world. 

Suddenly Shouto feels jealous—not of Kirishima, but of the closeness they share. The two of them have a bond that Shouto has never experienced with anyone before and the empty feeling tugs at his chest as he finishes the last of his coffee. 

Not long after, the other two finish theirs as well, and Kirishima collects the cups and stretches his arms over his head.

“I gotta make a couple lumber trips today, if you want to tag along,” Kirishima asks, directing the question at Katsuki.

Shouto isn’t offended. He's sure Kirishima only asked so he could spend some time with Katsuki. The two of them probably need to catch up anyways, considering how long it’s been since Katsuki left. 

But Katsuki glances over at him before he answers, looking for any sign of hesitancy in Shouto’s expression. So Shouto nods at him, affirming he’s okay with the suggestion.

“Sure, whatever,” Katsuki finally answers. 

A satisfied look comes across Kirishima before he turns his attention towards Shouto. “Mina will show you around town today, if you want. She’s a pretty good tour guide.”

“Sounds good,” Shouto responds with a smile.  

It turns out Mina is not a good tour guide. 

Well, she isn't a bad one either. She just spends much of the morning dragging Shouto around, chatting about meaningless topics that have nothing to do with where they were going or what they were doing. But Shouto doesn't complain. He enjoys when others can keep the conversations going without having to rely on him. Plus, she seems happy to have a new face around to tell her stories to, which in turn makes Shouto happy. 

"Are you able to help me find a place to stay?" Shouto asks between one of the many stories as they pass by a makeshift chicken farm. He had dreaded asking the question all morning, but he supposes he should be at least somewhat productive during this tour. 

Mina looks at him and pulls her brows together. "What do you mean? You're staying with us."

"Yeah. But… for something more permanent," he lies.

She sticks out her bottom lip, her eyes dropping down to her feet, and suddenly Shouto feels bad, like he offended her.

"It's not that I don't like—"

"Aren't you and Bakugou together, though?" she interrupts, looking back at Shouto with wide, searching eyes.

He freezes, completely taken off guard by the question, stammering as he tries to answer it.

"Wha—? We're—No. We're not… together." 

Mina narrows her eyes at him and he has to look away as the heat creeps up his face. 

"Okay…" She drags out the word, and despite it being the truth, Shouto gets the feeling she doesn't believe him. Bringing her finger up to her cheek in thought, she continues. "Well, the city is pretty overcrowded right now. It's gonna be tough to find a place available. Especially with the weather getting worse."

Shouto has to backtrack his mind to remember the question he asked. Right. A place to stay.

"I know Momo has a spare room, but she may have already loaned it out," Mina continues to herself.

Shouto just hums in acknowledgement, his heart still beating a little too loudly in his ears. Spinning on her heels, Mina hooks her arm in Shouto's and starts in the opposite direction, pulling him along with her. 

"Let's go ask her!" she says, cheerfully. 

The two walk for some time, passing by countless people hauling carts filled with produce, meats, grains, and other goods such as wool, and Shouto continues to be amazed at the amount of work everyone seems to put into the city. 

"This is the first post-outbreak city you've been to, isn't it?" Mina asks, taking notice of Shouto’s admiration. 

"The first one this big, yeah."

"It's pretty impressive, right?" She grins, and Shouto can hear the excitement in her voice. "My dad and I came here only a few years ago. You look just like how I did when I first saw it. It's truly amazing what humans can do when they work together, isn't it?"

Shouto nods in agreement. It really is amazing.

"Of course we rely on other cities as well—you know, trading goods and everything," Mina continues. "Even exchanging research about the virus. In fact Momo is a researcher!"

Shouto lets Mina talk, content to fall back into an easy silence as he listens.

"Her parents were scientists back in the old world, so she's like, super smart. Apparently, there's a city run by this guy named Todoroki, and they have an awesome research facility. She really wants to go there someday!"

Shouto feels his stomach flip. 

Mina continues to talk, but she's drowned out by the pounding that returns in his ears, this time for an entirely different reason. Shouto forces himself to take a couple deep breaths.

Luckily though, he doesn’t have time to let his thoughts run wild. Mina stops the both of them in front of a large, brick building with multiple generators attached to it, and Shouto’s attention is pulled away from the tightness in his chest.

“Here we are!”

He stares up at the massive building and clears his throat before speaking. “This is her house?”

“No, silly. This is Musutafu’s research building!” Mina responds with a chuckle before opening the two large, wooden doors and entering the building. “I’m pretty sure she’s working right now.”

Shouto takes another deep breath, feeling his anxiety simmer out, and steps over the threshold. 

The room they enter is smaller than he expected it to be. It doesn’t really contain much aside from a desk with a man sitting behind it, who doesn’t even look up to acknowledge their presence. He appears too immersed by the mess of papers and documents scattered on the desk.

“Uhm, excuse me, sir? Is Momo here?”

The man finally looks up, eyeing the two of them skeptically before lazily pointing a finger at a door to their left and returning back to the papers. Grabbing Shouto’s forearm, Mina leads them both through the door. 

This room is much larger. And brighter. Shouto squints up at the high ceiling and the multiple hanging lamps giving off the harsh lighting and he's again reminded of how surreal and advanced this place is. Blinking the spots out of his eyes, he glances around the rest of the room. 

Bookshelves line most of the walls, only broken up by various workstations, and in the middle of the room is a large conference table cluttered with more books and papers, much like the man’s desk in the lobby. 

Shouto cringes as he sees what look to be a few specimen jars containing various organs sitting on the table as well and finds himself staring at a floating eyeball before Mina is again dragging him elsewhere. She pulls him to one of the workstations occupied by a girl, her dark hair falling out of a messy ponytail as she leans over her desk, writing something. 

“Hi Momo!” Mina interrupts.

The girl appears startled and looks up from her writing at the two of them, but once she sees Mina, she smiles in recognition. “Hey Mina. What are you doing here?”

She then looks at Shouto, turning fully in her chair and hooking her arm around the back of it. She gives him an equally friendly smile and Shouto finds himself staring at how naturally pretty she is.

“This is Shouto. He’s Bakugou’s friend!”

Momo snorts, her eyes crinkling up elegantly. “That’s a good one.”

“I know, it’s crazy. But seriously!”

Shouto smiles at the exchange and bows his head. “Nice to meet you. Sorry to interrupt your work.”

"It's no problem. Wait, so is Bakugou back?”

Shouto nods. “We came in last night.”

“We were wondering if you still have your spare room open and if you would be willing to let Shouto stay there for a bit,” Mina interjects and Shouto shrinks in on himself, suddenly feeling like a burden. 

“You don’t have to, though,” he steps in, earning a suspicious glance from Mina. “I mean, only if you’re okay with it.”

Momo looks between the two of them and smiles. “Of course you can stay with me. Any friend of Bakugou’s is a friend of ours.”

He blinks at Momo, stunned at the hospitality she is willing to offer him without any hesitation. It doesn't make any sense. Does Katsuki really have that big of an impact here? 

In reality, she probably just feels bad for him. God, how pitiful does he look?

He feels Mina smack his arm. “Say thank you, dummy.”

“Of course. Thank you, seriously,” he says with another bow, and Momo chuckles and waves him off. 

“It’s no big deal. I’ll find you guys after I finish up  here and we can get you settled in.”

“Perfect! Thanks Momo!” Mina claps her hands together and begins towards the exit before stopping and turning around. “Oh! We’re all going out drinking tonight to celebrate. You should come by!”

“Will do,” Momo answers cheerfully before turning back to her paper, and the two of them make their way out of the building and back on the street to continue their exploration of the city. 

Momo's house is much bigger than Kirishima’s place, but it doesn't take long for Shouto to get settled in. There's an easiness in the air of the place, a comfort that has Shouto wanting to curl up and sleep for days on end.

The two of them sit in her living room and chat for a while, killing time before they have to meet up with everyone, and Shouto quickly finds that Momo may be the nicest, most sincere person he's ever met—not that it surprises him in the least bit, or is even that big of a feat in Shouto's world. Maybe it won't be so bad staying with her after all. It feels good to interact with someone other than Katsuki anyways. Perhaps this space between them was needed more than he knew.

Shouto listens to her talk, telling stories about how she came across to Musutafu and how her parents established the research center here. She’s not as eager to carry the conversation as Mina is, and multiple times she stops herself, blushing and mentioning how Shouto is probably sick of hearing her voice. But Shouto urges her on each time, because it's nice to get lost in someone else's life, even if just for a moment. 

Eventually though, the time comes to meet up with everyone, and the two of them wrap up their conversation and head back out into the frigid night air.

"So where is this place?" Shouto asks as they make their way down the snow-covered street, wondering exactly where they were going.

"It's an old bar just a few blocks away. The original owner wanted to keep it up and running after the outbreak." She tugs her wool hat further over her ears and looks down at the road in front of them. "He said despite everything, people would still need a place to go where they could drink and socialize. A place where they could forget their problems, now more than ever."

Shouto hums and buries his face in the collar of his jacket.

"A lot of the locals here have even taken to brewing their own alcohol and will donate it to him for free."

"For free?" Shouto asks, looking over at Momo in surprise. 

She nods her head. "Mhm. This city wouldn't be running like it is now if it weren't for the generosity of everyone in it."

Shouto stays quiet, considering what she had said, and they end up walking the rest of the way in silence. The harsh winter air makes it difficult for them to focus on much else, anyways. Luckily, it appears they don't have far to go.

“We’re here,” Momo announces as they approach an old brick structure nestled in the middle of downtown Musutafu. Two iron sconces burn brightly, perched on either side of a heavy wooden door, illuminating the snow-covered path leading up to it. Shouto can already hear the muffled voices carrying on inside the bar, and the way they grow in clarity as Momo pulls the door open. 

Pausing, she gestures with her hand. “After you.”

Shouto steps over the threshold and into the warm air of the bar, and it feels like he's stepping into another world. The sound of laughter and a faint acoustic guitar greet the two of them as the door swings closed behind them. Shouto glances to his left to see a man strumming simple chords on the instrument, its strings poking haphazardly out of the top of it, bouncing around and catching the light of a singular lamp that shines on him like a spotlight.

As Shouto continues to take in his surroundings, he spots a few more lamps scattered about the place, all different makes and styles—giving off just enough light to be able to see. 

The place is packed. Shouto trails his eyes along the huge L-shaped bar where the majority of the customers seem to be, to the various tables and booths that take up the floor space. Every single one is filled. Even the pool table off to the side is occupied by a couple of guys drunkenly taking turns hitting the balls. There only appears to be one man working the actual bar and Shouto looks back over at him. The only feature he can make out is the man’s dark hair pulled back into a messy bun. 

“Yo! Momo! Over here!” 

The voice comes from his right and Shouto's eyes follow it to a group of people sitting at one of the tables. Two of the faces are unfamiliar, but he instantly recognizes Mina and Kirishima smiling at him and waving the two over to join them. Returning their smiles, Shouto scans the table further, looking for the familiar mess of blonde hair that he expects to find. 

What he doesn’t expect is the way his stomach nearly jumps into his throat when he finds it. At the far end of the table, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest is Katsuki, the dim light of the bar doing absolutely nothing to dampen the intensity in his eyes as he watches Shouto. 

Fuck. He almost forgot how good he looked. It had only been a day—not even—but Shouto feels his mouth water as he sweeps his eyes across his chest, noticing how his shirt hugs it just a little too tightly and the way the sleeves strain over his shoulders and upper arms. Shouto swallows. 

Momo is already making her way to the table so he quickly attempts to compose himself and follow after her, regretfully pulling his eyes away from Katsuki. 

Once they approach, one of the unfamiliar people, a man with bright blonde hair dressed in a black long-sleeve shirt, stands up to greet them. 

“So this is the newbie Kacchan brought around, huh.” He quirks a pierced eyebrow and follows the statement up with a whistle.

Shouto shifts uncomfortably at the way the man’s eyes trail down his body when he speaks. Fortunately, the other unfamiliar face, a tiny girl with short purple hair and a look of annoyance that rivals even Katsuki’s, stands and elbows the man in the side.

"Can you give the guy two fucking seconds before you start hitting on him," she scolds as the man yelps and folds in half, holding his side. She then looks up at Shouto, her expression softening. "I'm sorry, I'm Kyouka. And this idiot is Denki."

Recognition flashes over Shouto's features. "Pikachu."

A snort escapes the girl and she looks over at Denki with amusement. "Guess he's already heard of you."

Denki's scowl melts into a smirk as he stands upright again. "I'm not surprised." Then he very casually stretches his arms over his head. "I'm kind of a big deal."

Shouto can't help the little twitch his mouth does. Despite the rough intro, this guy is actually kind of amusing, and appears harmless enough. Kyouka just rolls her eyes at him before turning her attention back to Shouto. "You must be Shouto, then."

He nods his head and she smiles warmly at him.

"Sweet. It's nice to finally have a new face around here. It was starting to get pretty boring," she says before taking her seat again, pulling Denki down next to her.

Shouto glances down at the two, then over at Mina and Kirishima who appear to be catching up with Momo on the other side of the table, and he begins to wonder if there is a single person in this city who isn't laid back. It's like they don't even know about the massive amount of undead people that have been walking around these past twenty-five years.

This is about to be by far the most social interaction he's had in years—perhaps ever—and it's already overwhelming. Eyeing the bottles everyone has in front of them, Shouto wonders exactly how to go about getting one of his own. He's certainly going to need it tonight. 

He doesn't have to wonder for long, though. A firm hand comes down heavy on his shoulder, and before he knows it, he's being led away from the table and towards the bar.

"Come on, princess. Let's get you a drink."

The gravelly voice is low in his ear—low enough for the pet name to stay unheard by everyone except Shouto, and he can't help the shiver that moves down his spine. The smell of menthol travels over from where Katsuki is pressed to his side as he guides Shouto towards two empty stools before finally dropping his arm to take a seat on one of them. Shouto doesn't wait to join him. 

Katsuki leans forward and drums his knuckles on the wood, waiting for the bartender to take notice of them. The warm light from the various lamps casts an orange hue to the mahogany bar top, and Shouto admires the way it masks the decades of flaws and imperfections in its surface. He wonders if the light has the same effect on him.

After another minute, the bartender finally looks in their direction, nodding at Katsuki’s empty bottle.

"Same thing?" the man asks. 

Now close up, Shouto can see a nasty scar cutting straight through the man's right eye, along with an even nastier one on his elbow poking out from underneath his rolled-up sleeve.

"Two," Katsuki responds, flashing two fingers at the man.

Shouto watches the man nod and disappear towards the other end of the bar before reappearing with two label-less bottles in his hand. He places them down on the bar in front of them.

"Thanks," Katsuki says, only earning a grunt in response before the man is back to serving others.

"Is that the owner?" Shouto asks after taking a sip of the strong liquid and letting it roll down throat.

"Mhm. Aizawa is his name." Katsuki takes a long swig from his bottle, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Dude's a fucking badass."

"How so?"

"Fought off three hollows with no weapon whatsoever. Caved their skulls in with his goddamn fists."

Shouto looks at Katsuki in disbelief. "Seriously? Why didn't he have a weapon?"

"They took him by surprise. Got into his house. It was before we had the wall up." Katsuki drops his eyes down to the bottle. "His daughter was sleeping upstairs."

Shouto hums in understanding and glances back towards the man, appreciating the scars in a whole new light. Shouto can't imagine the sheer desperation he must have felt to even attempt to fight those things off without a weapon. But he supposes that's what having a family does to you, though. Or what it's supposed to do, anyways.

They drink in silence for a few minutes before Katsuki speaks again. "So did Pinkie show you around, or what."

"Yeah." Shouto responds, his voice coming out raspy, so he clears his throat before continuing. "She found me a place to stay, actually."

He keeps his eyes cast down as he waits for Katsuki’s response, hoping perhaps Katsuki didn't hear him, yet also hoping he doesn't have to repeat it. But Katsuki's response comes quick enough.

"Awesome," he says flatly while swiping up his beer and spinning his stool around all at once. He stands and heads back to the table, leaving Shouto confused and blinking in his direction. And just like that, the conversation is over. 

It's a game. It has to be. Tell Shouto to find somewhere else to stay, then get pissed when he does. Come on, he should be used to this by now. 

Frustrated, Shouto gets up from the bar and moves to join him at the table. Everyone is sitting now, leaving the only seat open across from Katsuki. So Shouto pulls the chair out and sits down, pretending all is fine in the world and that the scowl he just got from Katsuki was only his imagination. Ignoring him, Shouto sips his beer and submerges himself in the conversation occurring next to him. 

"Wait, what? A deer?" Mina asks, leaning into the table on the other end.

Momo nods her head and Kirishima jumps in.

"There's no way. The virus has never been able to jump between species, right?"

Momo leans back in her chair, looking tired. "Apparently it found a way. Though we aren't sure how. And we won't know more until we're able to study a decent specimen."

"Zombie deers running around? Talk about creepy…" Denki adds, shivering for exaggeration. 

Kyouka sighs next to him. "I thought we were supposed to be celebrating tonight. Not bringing everyone down, Momo."

"I'm sorry! Eijiro asked what was new, and I just… haven't been out of the lab much recently." Momo blushes and sinks into the chair.

"Well now's the time to loosen up sister!" Mina sits up straight in her chair and raises her beer. "Come on! Here's to Bakugou coming home!"

Everyone mimics the gesture and a flurry of 'to Bakugou coming home' accompany it, so Shouto grabs his as well, holding it up in the air towards the center of the table. They all pause then, obviously waiting for Katsuki to join. Shouto glances at him out of the corner of his eye and hears Katsuki grumble before he finally picks his beer up, leaving his elbow on the table in his rebellion. 

The joy radiating off of Mina in that moment is almost palpable. A brilliant grin flashes across her face. "Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Everyone clinks their bottles together before bringing them to their mouths. And that is just the first of many more to come.

Shouto grabs his third beer of the night from Aizawa and sits back down at the table, letting his back fall against the chair a little too heavily. The alcohol has been flowing for a couple hours now, and the volume of the place has risen immensely as stories begin to slur over top of each other. Denki and Mina yell something across the table at one another while Kirishima tries to tell Katsuki something about some new blacksmith in town or whatever. Shouto isn't quite sure. He finds it too hard to concentrate on any voice in particular, so he occupies himself with the way the light bounces off the glass bottle in front of him as he slowly twirls it around. 

Denki apparently says something hilarious causing Mina to burst out laughing, and the sound automatically brings a smile to Shouto's face as well. A warmth settles deep in the pit of his stomach and it's scary how quickly he let himself get so comfortable around these people—people he hardly even knew. 

But everything about this felt right.

How had he gone twenty-three years without ever knowing places like this—people like this even existed? 

He feels Katsuki kick his leg under the table. "Oi. You drunk already over there?"

Shouto blinks and looks up from the bottle, but Denki jumps in before he has a chance to answer. He leans forward on his elbow, resting his chin on his hand. "Nah, he isn't drunk. He's just the quiet, brooding type. Right?" 

Shouto looks over at Denki, confusion furrowing his brows. "Uhm… sure?" is all he says in response. 

Denki chuckles and an annoyed sound comes from Katsuki across the table. "Don't you have a boyfriend or something yet? Someone you can annoy instead of us."

"Nope! Forever single, bro." Denki flashes him a grin then his face lights up as if he'd just remembered something. He leans over the table to look down towards the other end. "Dude, Ei! Do you remember the time Deku got absolutely wasted and tried to set me up with literally everyone in the bar? Including you!" He cackles as he speaks. "But he wouldn't let me anywhere near Bakugou. Remember?" 

Shouto tenses at the mention of the name. He sees Kirishima offer a smile and nod his head, though the atmosphere of the table had obviously changed drastically at that moment. 

Denki sighs and leans back in his chair. "God damn. I sure do miss that guy."

Everyone seems to be holding their breath, and subconsciously, Shouto's eyes find Katsuki just in time to watch him stand abruptly. "I need a smoke," he mumbles as he spins towards the door. And before anyone has the chance to say anything, he leaves the table and exits the bar, the door closing harshly behind him.

The silence the table is left in is thick, and Shouto stares at the empty seat across from him before Kyouka finally speaks. "Way to go, Sparky."

"What, so we can't even talk about him now?" Denki asks defensively as he sits upright again. 

"It's obviously a sore subject still, moron."

Denki leans back again in defeat, taking a long sip from his bottle, and Shouto glances around the rest of the table at everyone. He sees Kirishima begin to stand up, but Mina pulls him back down, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. His eyes flick up to meet Shouto's briefly before quickly looking away again, but some of the worry seems to melt off his face after that. Shouto so desperately wants to learn more—find out what exactly happened between Deku and Katsuki. But the need to go after Katsuki trumps everything else at that moment. 

Slowly, the conversations around him start up again, and Shouto finishes his beer. Then standing without a word, he makes his way to the exit, feeling the eyes on his back as he pushes the door open.

The bitter air instantly sobers him as it bites into his alcohol-flushed skin and the abrupt silence of the outside world leaves his ears ringing, but he quickly finds Katsuki leaning against the brick wall of the building, his hands tucked inside his leather coat and a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. A thin trail of smoke curls up around him, catching the light from the sconces. He looks serene. Shouto makes his way over and silently leans against the wall next to him, eyeing Katsuki in his periphery. 

"What are you doing?" Katsuki asks without raising his eyes from the snowy street in front of them. His attempt at sounding annoyed is weaker than usual.

Shouto stays silent for a moment, considering the question. This would be a perfect time. He could ask him everything right now. He could finally find out who Deku was—what happened to him, what they were to each other. He could finally ask all of the things that had been eating away at him ever since he first heard the name back in that little town. And something tells him that Katsuki would answer him, too.

But right now, Shouto doesn't want to ask any of those questions. Right now, he just wants to be next to him. 

Maybe he's scared.

"Just needed some fresh air."

Katsuki scoffs and taps off the bit of ash that had gathered at the tip of the cigarette before bringing it back to his mouth and taking a long drag.  He then tilts his head towards Shouto and exhales a thick cloud of smoke right into his face. 

Shouto coughs and sputters, glaring in Katsuki’s direction only to be met with that smug look he's so familiar with as Katsuki tosses the butt in the snow and stomps it out.

"You ever played pool before?" Katsuki asks suddenly, pushing himself off the wall.

Shouto blinks at him. "Do I look like someone who’s played pool before?"

Flashing a crooked smile, Katsuki walks past him towards the door. "Come on pretty boy, I'll teach you."

Pool is a stupid game. 

It only takes Shouto about five minutes to decide that. All you do is knock one ball into another. Again and again and again. It's not that hard if you have even the least bit of hand-eye coordination. But he greatly enjoys the flustered look Katsuki gets on his face every time one of Shouto's balls lands in a pocket—and that ultimately becomes the real goal. 

The first game doesn't take very long and Katsuki wins, of course. But Shouto really wants to see what he’ll do if he loses.

"Another."

"What, didn't get enough of an ass beatin'?" Katsuki mocks, but he's already gathering the balls up for the next game. "You break."

Shouto scoffs and flicks Katsuki a look as he leans over to grab his pool cue. The bar had gotten significantly warmer, thanks to a combination of the alcohol and all the bodies packed inside, so Shouto strips off his sweater, leaving himself in just a white t-shirt. He's fully aware of how its V-neck allows his collarbone to poke out just enough—and more importantly the couple of marks Katsuki had left there the day before. 

Shouto doesn’t miss the way his eyes land right on them, lingering there for a moment before he quickly looks away. “The fuck you waitin’ for?” 

Shouto smiles at the pink dusting across Katsuki’s cheeks before he finally moves to the table. All long arms and lean torso, Shouto bends over the table and lines up the shot, feeling Katsuki’s eyes on him the entire time. A loud ‘crack’ sounds followed by multiple smaller ones as the balls bounce off one another, and he watches a striped ball disappear into the far left pocket.

The game continues after that, and the two take turns hitting ball after ball back and forth, leaving taunting remarks anytime one of them lands a good shot. But as the game goes on, Shouto takes on a different strategy. Each time he leans over the table, Shouto makes sure to let his shirt ride up just a little more, exposing his hips and lower back, and each time he silently thanks himself for grabbing his tight-fitting pants this morning. 

Shouto tells himself he’s doing this just to rile Katsuki up, to throw him off his game, but he can’t deny how good it feels to have those crimson eyes on him and only him. There's something about the look in those eyes in that split second of a moment before he realizes Shouto is watching him. The hunger he sees stirs something up in the pit of his stomach—and it's addicting. 

Katsuki taps his thumb aggressively against his stick as he watches the 8 ball fall into the pocket, ultimately confirming his loss. Shouto pauses in his stance for exaggeration before putting his stick down on the table that still had three of Katsuki’s balls on it. 

Without saying anything, he turns around to face Katsuki and casually leans back and rests his hands on the edge of the table behind him, attempting his best 'Katsuki' smirk.

Katsuki scoffs. "Beginner's luck."

"I thought that only applies to the first time," Shouto says as smugly as he looks while Katsuki shoves his pool cue back into its holder. He frowns. "What, no best out of three?"

"Fuck that. Rematch when I'm not six beers deep." Katsuki downs the last bit of liquid in his bottle and starts back towards their table without another word. 

Shouto watches him for a moment before he finally returns his own stick to its holder. He then eyes the bar. The place has slowly started to clear out as people begin to head home for the night. But Shouto isn't ready to be done yet. Just one more beer before he calls it a night. He spots Kirishima in one of the stools there having a conversation with Aizawa, so Shouto decides to join him.

"You want another?" Aizawa asks, motioning towards the empty bottle Shouto had just placed on the bar.

"If you don't mind." It only takes a couple seconds before a new beer appears in front of him, and Shouto nods his head in acceptance before Aizawa disappears to tend to other customers. He looks over at Kirishima apologetically. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Nah. You're good. We were just catching up."

"You guys know each other well?" Shouto asks as he takes a sip of the fresh beer.

"Yup. Pretty much everyone who grew up in Musutafu are all really close with each other."

There it is again. A familiar sharp twinge pulls at Shouto as this relationship—this bond between everyone is thrown back in his face. It's everywhere he looks. Everywhere. Even those who weren't originally from this city, like Mina and Momo, seem to have been easily adopted into this 'family'. 

An ugly jealousy begins to rise up and burn the back of Shouto's throat like acid bubbling up and suddenly, he feels more alone now than he has in a long, long time. Why is he here? Why did Katsuki bring him here? He doesn't belong here. He belongs out there, in the wretched world on his own. Katsuki had his chance to turn him away. Why the fuck didn't he take it? 

No. It's his fault. Why did he follow Katsuki here? What the fuck is he doing? He's supposed to be searching for Touya, right? That's why he left his father in the first place. 

Wasn't it?

His thoughts are so jumbled and it's making his head pound. Maybe this place is just another way the universe is punishing Shouto, shoving his face in the dirt, kicking him when he's down. Showing him how small and insignificant he is. He's nothing. No one. 

It wasn't his name that brought Katsuki to his knees.

Deku.

He may as well fucking ask now.

"Can I ask you something?" Shouto's voice comes out harsh and rushed, interrupting whatever Kirishima was about to say. He doesn't wait for his answer. "Who is Deku?"

He grips his beer tightly and stares down at it for a long time before finally looking up at Kirishima. The fierceness and determination in his eyes fall slightly as the other man looks back at him, his scarred eyebrows drawn together in hesitation. But something about his expression makes Shouto's chest tighten.

Kirishima sighs and looks away. "Figures he didn't tell you."

Shouto swallows. "Tell me what?"

It's obvious the other man is struggling with how to answer, or whether or not he should answer at all. And it's probably unfair of Shouto to put him in this situation. But he doesn't care. Not right now, as he sips on the amber liquid that coats his stomach as evenly as it coats his inhibitions. He needs to know if this little fairy tale he's built up in his mind is about to come crashing down. 

Kirishima runs a large hand through his hair before dropping it down on the bar in defeat.

"Izuku was his real name." His voice is quiet. And solemn. And Shouto doesn't like it at all. It doesn't fit him. Kirishima looks away from him as he continues. "He and Katsuki had known each other since the day they were born. Literally."

Shouto doesn't say anything. He doesn't even move, worried even the slightest interruption will be enough to shut Kirishima up.

"They were pretty much inseparable growing up. Hit a little bit of a rough patch when we all became teenagers, but they worked it out and became closer than ever. Shit, I was actually kinda jealous of them." Kirishima pauses to take a drink and Shouto watches his throat bob up and down as he swallows, waiting patiently for him to continue. The man keeps his gaze on the beer after he puts it back down, still refusing to look at Shouto as he clears his throat and continues. "Eventually their friendship kinda… turned into something more."

Shouto's jaw tightens. He should've seen that coming, but it still felt like a punch to his gut. "Something more?"

That finally gets Kirishima to look at him, only to nod before his attention is back at the bottle in his hand. 

"So… what happened?" Shouto asks, hesitantly.

Kirishima stays silent for a moment before glancing over at his friends, and Shouto knows he's looking at Katsuki. Or maybe he's looking for a reason to leave this conversation entirely. Either way, Shouto looks over as well. 

The group is relaxed and chattering away. Katsuki rolls his eyes at something Denki says before Mina smacks him on the back of his head, and Shouto smiles softly at the sight. 

He then imagines another person at the table—someone faceless sitting close to Katsuki and resting their head on his shoulder with a soft smile, and Katsuki placing a small kiss on the top of their head before returning to the conversation. 

Fortunately, Kirishima turns back to him, dragging Shouto's attention away from the table and away from the image he was building in his mind. "He's going to be so pissed at me for telling you this."

"You can blame me," Shouto urges.

A sad smile reaches Kirishima's mouth and he slowly shakes his head back and forth, as if saying 'yeah right'. But Shouto stays quiet until finally, the other man sighs and begins to speak.

"They were out on a supply run, just the two of them. I forget what the fuck they were supposed to get. It doesn't matter. All I know is they ended up in some subway station not too far from here, and somehow, a few hollows caught them by surprise." His gaze goes unfocused as he recalls the story Katsuki had most likely told him and his expression falls into something pained. Quieter than before, he adds, "Izuku got bit."

Shouto feels his stomach lurch.

A bite is possibly the last thing he expected to hear—or hoped for. Experienced fighters like Katsuki (and he assumed Izuku) don't get bit, especially when they were only up against a few hollows. The ones who do get bit are typically those who can't defend themselves—those with no proper training or either too sickly or elderly to hold their own against those things. Experienced fighters would much rather prefer to have their guts ripped out than get anywhere near those fucking teeth. 

It's a universally accepted truth. If you're going to go down, make sure it's not from a bite. Shouto grimaces. Something must have gone horribly wrong.

And turning is a fate he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. It's far more unpleasant than any death Shouto can think of. Of course he can't speak from experience, but he has heard enough stories to know what occurs to the body during the process. And he likes to think there's a special place in hell for those who 'study' the infection process, instead of just putting a bullet in the poor guy's head. He's glad Momo isn't involved in the research on that side of things.

Slowly, Shouto begins connecting the dots. 

Katsuki's pistol….

"He killed him… didn't he?" he mutters. 

Kirishima recoils and leans over the table, hiding his face from Shouto as he runs his hands through his hair. He lets out a laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "What would you do?"

Oh God. 

Shouto's mouth goes dry as he swallows around nothing. 

He can't possibly imagine what he would do in that scenario. To kill someone you've known your entire life—someone you've loved in more ways than one. To watch the light fade from their eyes because of you… Or watch them suffer while their humanity gets ripped away from them as they turn into one of the very things that destroyed them. 

Most likely he would pull the trigger then turn the gun on himself. 

Shouto stops, eyes wide as he finally makes sense of it all. The one bullet…

Kirishima interrupts his thoughts. "It took him about a week to tell anyone what happened," he mutters into the small space around him. "Then he packed up all of his shit and left. That was three years ago. He only stopped back a few times, but never stayed for more than a couple nights."

Shouto allows himself to look over at Katsuki again and imagines him in that horrible position, cradling that faceless person—whispering false promises in those intimate seconds before he pulls the trigger. Shouto flinches and looks away.

Kirishima takes another long sip from his beer before fully facing Shouto, a renewed vigor filling his eyes. 

"I'm only telling you this because… he looks at you the same way he used to look at 'Zu. And I get the feeling you're gonna be around for a while."

Shouto blinks up at him. What? 

"What?" 

Kirishima smiles back—a warm, genuine smile that melts the nightmares away. "Mina sees it too. I think you're stuck with us, unfortunately."

Shouto just stares at him, perplexed. The sudden change in conversation has his head spinning and he can't keep up. What is Kirishima trying to say?

"Listen. I'm not trying to butt in anywhere I don't belong here, but just hear me out. Stay with Momo for a while until he gets his head on straight. I know him. I promise he'll come around."

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Slow down. 

Shouto opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly Mina appears behind them, her voice like an alarm clock that wakes Shouto from this dream.

"Eiiii. I'm sleepy. Let's go home." She throws herself over Kirishima’s shoulders and nuzzles her face into his neck. He effectively ignores her by downing the rest of his beer before turning his stool around.

"Alright. Come on little lady. Let's get you home."

Mina looks between Kirishima and Shouto and narrows her eyes, like she's about to comment on the intense atmosphere she just walked in on. But luckily she stays quiet as Kirishima begins to guide her back to their table.

Shouto blinks at his unfinished beer for a few seconds, mentally digesting all the information he had just received. He would need some time to process it, and tonight is not the time to do it. He needs a sober mind.

Leaving the beer, he gets up and composes himself before joining the others who are all gathering up their belongings. Katsuki appears next to him holding Shouto’s sweater.

"What were you and Spiky Hair talking about?" he asks, suspicion lacing his words. 

The sound of his voice alone has Shouto's heart pounding. He grabs his sweater from him and forces himself to look down so his expression wouldn't give anything away. "Nothing important."

He doesn't think he's ever told a bigger lie in his life. 

Katsuki scoffs as he turns away to grab his own jacket. Then turning back, he leans forward into Shouto's space, his voice low as he speaks directly into Shouto's ear. "Haven't I told you, you're a bad fucking liar?"

Chapter Text

Shouto takes Kirishima’s advice.

A couple weeks slip by in a blink of an eye and he hardly even realizes. The days move quickly with how busy (distracted) he keeps himself, but luckily finding work is easy enough. It seems there’s always something to be done—either helping Momo with her daily chores and upkeep of the house, or volunteering himself for various jobs around the city. He admits it feels nice to be able to put himself to use. To be a part of something bigger for once.

The time also allows him to grow close with Momo. He thinks he can even consider her a friend now. Some nights she comes home from the lab exhausted, but most nights they stay up talking until the early hours of the morning, sharing stories and random knowledge with each other. It's calm, peaceful even. No lies, no deception, no hidden motives behind either of their words. Just the two of them having friendly conversation. Shouto enjoys these nights. 

Eventually, he begins to offer up small details about himself, telling stories about his siblings, about his mother, about Camie and Inasa—not because he feels he needs to, but because he actually wants to. In the silence of the late-night hours he tells these stories, and her dark brown eyes will focus intently on him as she hangs on his each and every word, as if she understands these aren't stories meant for just anyone. And not once does she push or pry him for anything more. Shouto wishes he could tell her how much he truly appreciates that.

During those couple weeks, he doesn't let himself think about Katsuki. At least not during the day, anyway. But that's easy, when he's too busy hulling lumber or aiding in structural repairs to let his mind wander. It's when night comes, and he's laying in bed replaying the conversation he had with Kirishima at the bar in his head over and over and over again. That's when it's difficult to keep his mind away from him. 

He always tries to reel those thoughts in quickly before he loses himself in them. But some nights, in those early morning hours while he's waiting for sleep to come, he'll take the leash off and let himself imagine what a life with Katsuki could be like here in Musutafu, surrounded by people who care about him. Truly care about him. And in these moments, Shouto is happy.

He yawns as he runs his thumb over the ripped piece of paper Momo had left for him on the kitchen counter. She must have stopped by at lunchtime when he was out of the house.

"Shouto,

I'm going to miss dinner again tonight. :(

But we're really close to a breakthrough here. I can feel it! 

I'm sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you soon!

♡ Momo"

He frowns. This is the third night in a row she'll be working late. Though Shouto doesn't particularly mind having the place to himself. But he worries if she's getting enough rest. 

That thought makes him snort. When's the last time he worried about someone getting enough rest? God, this place is making him soft. 

Maybe he's just getting anxious. He's been cooped up too long without really seeing much of anyone these past couple weeks. Which is fine. That's what he wanted. After learning about Izuku, he felt like he owed Katsuki some space. At least that had been the advice Kirishima had given him, anyway. Back off for a bit. Give him some time. Let Katsuki get his head on straight. Because that's the right thing for Shouto to do. 

Not because he's scared.

No. Not because of that.

Shouto leaves the note on the counter top and makes his way to the living room. If it weren't almost dinner time, he'd head back out and try to find something to occupy himself with, but the city slows down drastically around this time and it wasn't exactly worth the effort. Plus, Momo had quite a collection of books that he's been eyeing up since his first night here.

He walks over to the large bookshelf that takes up the majority of the far wall in the living area to begin his search. It was an old, Victorian-style piece of furniture that somehow suited Momo perfectly, and each shelf was completely filled with books from nearly every decade. It was almost overwhelming. 

Various knick-knacks decorate some of the shelves, but Shouto doesn't pay them much attention until he comes across a small framed photograph. Another polaroid, he recognizes. Carefully, he picks it up, admiring the intricate woodwork of the frame before turning it over and finally studying the photograph itself. It's a group photo, and he instantly recognizes Kirishima and Mina standing in the middle of the group, eyes scrunched shut with the biggest grins on their faces. As he looks further he's able to pick out Denki, Kyouka and Momo as well. However, on the far left of the photo stood two people he couldn't immediately put names to. 

As Shouto studies it closer, though, he's eventually able to recognize one of them as Katsuki. He wasn't looking at the camera like everyone else, which is what made him so hard to recognize, Shouto thinks. Katsuki instead was looking down at the other person Shouto didn't know. And he was smiling. It was a small smile— one you could almost overlook if you didn't know it was there. And if Shouto hadn't spent every single day with him for the past couple months, he probably would have missed it. But it's most certainly there. The expression seems so foreign that Shouto rethinks the whole reason he wasn't able to recognize him in the first place. 

That's when his heart drops. 

The other person, the one Katsuki is looking at—it's Izuku.  

There's no doubt in Shouto’s mind. That's him. It has to be.

Shouto feels the blood drain from his face and he quickly rips his eyes away from the photo as if he's seen a ghost. Silently, he wills the tightness in his chest to dissipate, hoping that if he squeezes his eyes tight enough it'll erase the image from his memory. But Izuku's face has already stamped itself on the back of his eyelids and is quickly working on tearing it's way through his retina to take root directly in Shouto's brain. 

He never wanted to see him. He never wanted to know what he looked like. Because he'll never be able to forget it.

Slowly, Shouto opens his eyes again, searching the photo for Katsuki, hoping to find some comfort there. But seeing that smile only brought out anger in him. 

"He looks at you the same way he used to look at 'Zu."

Bullshit.

Bull fucking shit.

He's never seen Katsuki look at him like that. Not once. Regret is the only thing he's ever seen in those eyes. Regret is the only true emotion he's ever received from Katsuki. God, how pathetic is he? How many times does he need to be shut down to take the goddamn hint? Katsuki doesn't want him here. It's that simple.

Shouto drops the photograph on the shelf, not taking the time to stand it back up properly, and takes off towards his bedroom. He's leaving. He's getting out of this place. He's finally had enough of this feeling—this horribly empty feeling that has somehow only seemed to get worse after coming here. He needs to get back out there, on his own. That's the only place he's ever been able to think clearly. He's a solo through and through— has been ever since the day Touya fucking abandoned him.  

Gathering up his backpack, Shouto tosses in the rest of his belongings that are scattered about the room and fastens his katana securely over his back. It feels nice, actually— to have everything he owns, his whole identity in one place on this back again. It simplifies things, and Shouto desperately needs that right now. 

This is okay. It'll be okay. He repeats this in his head over and over again as he makes his way back to the living room. You've done this before. 

There's no doubt he'll miss Katsuki. Just like he missed his siblings. Just like he missed Inasa when he left six years ago. It'll hurt for the first few weeks, or even months, but eventually that pain will subside. Eventually, he'll be able to focus again. Eventually, he'll be able to continue searching for Touya, or whatever the fuck he decides to do that gives him a sense of purpose and keeps him breathing another day.

Shouto makes it back to the front door and swings it open with a bit too much force. But he’s startled when he sees Mina standing on the other side of it, hand raised in a fist as if she's about to knock. 

They stare at each other with wide eyes. And it's like she hit the off-switch on all the noise buzzing around in his head.

"Hi," she says awkwardly, breaking the silence. 

"Hi…"

She glances quickly at the backpack then back at Shouto. "Is…everything okay?"

"Yeah," he lies.

"Okay…" She does not sound convinced. "Well, I was just coming over to invite you to dinner. Since Momo is working late and everything."

Shouto blinks at her, his heart still stammering from the adrenaline pumping through him. 

"Bakugou is actually a pretty good cook. But I'm sure he's already told you that."

He has. Many times in fact, and it makes Shouto sad that he hasn't properly experienced any of Katsuki's cooking since they met. Letting out a breath, Shouto finally looks away from her. God, he wants to see him so bad. He hadn't even realized it until now when the opportunity has finally presented itself. 

Would it truly be so bad if he did?

Fuck it. One last time. He can do that. He's strong enough for that, right? It's the nice thing to do, anyway.  Maybe he'll even take the time to say a proper goodbye for once.

"Okay," he says without a second thought, internally loathing how little convincing it actually took.

"Really?" Mina's eyes light up. "Yay! Come on, let's go!"

Shouto stands there a moment as his brain tries to keep up with the sudden series of events before finally sliding off his backpack and following Mina outside and on to the street. 

He misses him. He misses him so fucking much. Of course he caved quicker than a goddamn school girl being asked to prom. Katsuki appeared in his life when Shouto needed him most and Shouto latched onto him like a fucking lost puppy because of it. He could almost call it fate if he believed in such a ridiculous thing.

Shouto trails slightly behind Mina as the two of them begin their walk in the chilly night to Kirishima’s place. The air doesn't bite as painfully into his skin as it did a couple weeks ago, but he knows it'll be short lived. The depth of winter is still upon them.

"I really didn't think you'd say yes," Mina states after a few minutes into their walk, pulling Shouto from his thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know… I feel like you've been kind of avoiding us lately."

Shouto huffs. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. "Sorry. I guess I've been busy trying to get settled in and everything," he lies.

Mina frowns. "Katsuki has been asking about you."

He doesn't say anything to that. It's not the conversation he wants to have right now anyways. After a few more minutes roll by, it appears Mina takes the hint that Shouto isn't in the talking mood, so they finish their trip in silence. 

A delicious aroma fills Shouto's senses as he follows Mina into the familiar little townhouse. It takes him by surprise, all the different spices and scents. He's never smelled such a delectable mixture of them before. Growing up, his mother would cook for him and his siblings of course, but food was still scarce back then. The outbreak had caused a panic that led to a massive hoarding of supplies and resources that took years to overcome. So their meals were always simple, just enough to get by. Now, as crops slowly began to flourish again and farmers were able to take the time to properly care for and protect their livestock, meats and produce had returned in abundance. Especially in these large trading cities. 

"Shouto! You made it!" Kirishima shouts excitedly when they enter the house. "Perfect timing. It's ready!"

"Thank goodness. I'm so hungry." Mina hurries past him straight to the kitchen, making herself a plate of food before plopping down on the couch next to Kirishima. That's when Shouto realizes the place is missing a proper dinner table for them to actually share a meal together, not that any of them seemed to mind though. As he places his jacket on the coat rack by the door, Katsuki suddenly appears in front of him holding a plate of the delicious smelling food.

"Long time no see, asshole." He pushes the plate to Shouto's chest, taking him by surprise. 

Hearing his voice again sends a shiver straight through Shouto, but he keeps himself composed and looks down at the plate before taking it. "Smells amazing."

"Tastes even better." Katsuki scoffs before spinning around and taking a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. 

Mina and Kirishima are already digging into their food and talking amongst themselves over on the couch, paying no attention to the two of them. Shouto glances at the two available seats left, the single chair in the living room or the stool next to Katsuki, and after taking a second to accurately weigh his options, he finally chooses the seat next to Katsuki.

This is easy. Straight to dinner. No awkward greetings, or questioning about where he'd been the last couple weeks. He can do this. The other man is already eating as Shouto takes his first bite, but he can feel his eyes on him, flickering with poorly hidden anticipation. The burst of different flavors that explode in his mouth when he bites down takes him off guard— flavors he didn't even know were possible before now. He chews and swallows and can't help himself from immediately taking another bite. 

Katsuki audibly clears his throat next to him. "Well?"

"It's good," Shouto mumbles through the food.

"Good? That's it?" 

Shouto swallows again and shoves another bite in his mouth, throwing table manners out the window. His cheeks poke out a bit with the amount of food stuffed in there when he finally looks up from his plate at Katsuki, eyes wide and filled with sincerity. "It's the best thing I've ever tasted."

He isn't lying. It's absolutely the best thing he's ever tasted. He can't even believe it's possible to achieve this combination of flavors in this day and age. With Shouto's lack of culinary knowledge, he can't describe why or how it tastes so good, but it does. Maybe it's magic. But he supposes it's also not that hard to beat canned beans and stale protein bars. 

A weird expression flashes over Katsuki's face before a blush creeps up his cheeks, and he pushes Shouto's face away from him. "Stop looking at me like that."

Shouto furrows his brow, confused. "Like what?"

"All cute and shit. It's annoying," Katsuki growls before returning to his food.

Shouto stops chewing. 

Cute? Did Katsuki really just say that? Shouto has never been called cute in his life. Not that he can remember at least. Cute is a word to describe babies and bunny rabbits, and Shouto most certainly isn't either of those. It's weird enough as it is coming from someone like Katsuki— someone so rough around the edges, who's every other word is fuck.

"Cute?" Shouto asks, looking back at Katsuki. 

"Just shut up and eat. I'm gonna be pissed if you let it get cold," Katsuki growls, and he doesn't look up again until his plate is empty. 

Shouto doesn't have to be told twice.

Washing dishes is a strange concept for Shouto to wrap his head around. It feels so mundane, so… domestic. It doesn't have a place in a world like this. Yet here he is, standing next to Katsuki washing the goddamn dishes after they had just shared a delicious home cooked meal together. It sounds so ridiculous, and if someone had told Shouto a year ago that he'd be here in this position, he probably would have laughed in their face.

It's late now. Mina and Kirishima had gone to bed about an hour earlier, succumbing to the multiple bottles of wine the four of them had shared for 'dessert', which left Shouto and Katsuki alone. It wasn't awkward, though. At least not for Shouto, but he doesn't think Katsuki is capable of feeling awkward anyways. The two of them just kind of fell back into their comfortable routine with each other. It was nice actually. It made Shouto miss the days where it was just the two of them and no one else for miles and miles. 

Just as Shouto begins to lose himself in the memories of the little town, Katsuki places the last of the dishes back into the cabinet and dries his hands off. Shouto feels a quiet tug in his chest as he realizes their night together has come to an end. Their last night together. 

Right? That's what it's supposed to be, isn't it? 

Shouto swallows as reality finally hits him. At least he got a decent meal out of it.

"I should probably head out," he says quietly.

Katsuki turns to face him, resting his hip against the countertop. "It's late. Just stay here tonight. I'm sure Ponytail won't miss you that much."

Shouto pauses. Just stay here… 

He made it sound so fucking simple. Just stay here. Shouto can feel anger start to bubble at the very casual way Katsuki proposes the suggestion, but he waits until that anger simmers to only a slight annoyance before he answers. "And what? Sleep on the couch?"

"If that's what you want," Katsuki answers, curtly.

Shouto narrows his eyes and watches the other man closely for a moment, studying him—hoping he'll give up any indication of what he really wants Shouto to do. But when he remains unreadable, Shouto sighs. Katsuki isn't going to be the one to initiate anything. Shouto knows this. Of course he knows this. But Shouto also knows that he'll never be okay leaving without trying one more time. He has to know for sure, right? He can't leave room for any doubts when he walks out of this fucking city. Because doubt will be his downfall. It'll drive him insane, and he doesn't need that. It's going to be hard enough as it is.

His expression falls into something serious, something determined. "No. That's not what I want."

Then his body is moving on its own. Suddenly, he's pushing Katsuki up against the far wall of the kitchen— suddenly he's kissing Katsuki. 

He's kissing him, and Katsuki is kissing back.

Shouto's mind goes fuzzy. His heart starts pounding as the adrenaline courses through his veins. Everything around them becomes muffled and blurred around the edges, like his world becomes vignetted, focusing in on the only thing that matters. Katsuki. 

He brings his hands up to hold Katsuki’s face, threading his fingers through the shorter blonde hair at the base of his skull, and tilts his head in order to further melt into him. Katsuki tastes so fucking good. It's a hundred times better than the food he had just eaten. No, a thousand times. Shouto thinks Katsuki’s taste alone is enough to fully sustain him. He'd never have to eat again as long as he had Katsuki. 

They kiss and kiss and kiss until Shouto begins to feel lightheaded and finally, they part their mouths only briefly to pant into each other, stealing the air straight from each other's lungs.

"Fuck," Katsuki breathes, and Shouto feels it more than he hears it. 

But Shouto is too scared to stay away for long. He presses Katsuki further into the wall and hurriedly connects their mouths again, diving his tongue deep into him and pulling a moan from the man. While he basks in the sound, Shouto snakes a hand down in between them to begin fumbling with Katsuki’s pants, the button-zipper combo posing as quite the challenge in the moment. But finally he gets it loose enough for his hand to reach down and wrap around Katsuki.

Katsuki gasps and breaks the kiss, dropping his head back against the wall, and Shouto wastes no time taking advantage of the new angle. He begins dragging his lips down the length of Katsuki’s neck, feeling the pounding of the other man's pulse beneath the skin. And Shouto thinks this really could be heaven. Katsuki really could be heaven. Katsuki could be everything he's ever needed to survive in this fucked up world. Katsuki could be everything he's ever needed to survive in his own fucked up head.

But of course, this little heaven is too good for Shouto. 

Katsuki grabs Shouto's wrist and pulls it away. "Stop, Sho. I can't–" he whispers. 

Shouto clenches his jaw and hears his teeth creak under the pressure. The tightness settles in his chest once more, but this time is so much worse than all the others. There it is. There's your fucking answer, idiot. Just walk away now.  

He stays frozen though, eyes stinging as he's pressed up against Katsuki, lips still by his neck. But they aren't touching him. Shouto makes sure of that. Just leave. That's what the plan was. Just do it.

It sounds so much easier in his head. 

Shouto finally pulls back, just enough so that he can look at Katsuki. And it's painful. Its so fucking painful looking at him. And for some reason he can't get the image of that photograph out of his head. The smile that he's never seen and never will, and his heart aches.

"Is this because of Izuku?" Shouto blurts out before he can stop himself.

Katsuki freezes and Shouto knows he's overstepped that very obvious line that had been cemented in between them.

"The fuck did you just say?" Katsuki asks, stunned, shoving Shouto away from him. Shouto stumbles back. He should only know him as Deku, and the fact that he called him Izuku was a dead give away. Katsuki growls and Shouto suddenly feels like he's facing a wild dog. "Who told you?" 

"Kirishima," Shouto answers. Because what's the point of lying? He's glad they're talking about it. Finally, no more secrets. Finally, Katsuki will have to tell him why. He doesn't back down from Katsuki’s gaze, but the few feet that now stand between them feels like miles.

"Fucking bastard," he hears Katsuki utter under his breath as he tears his eyes away from Shouto. "What did he tell you?"

"Everything." Shouto pauses a moment, giving Katsuki a chance to respond. But he doesn't. He just continues to glare at the floor, so Shouto asks again, "Is this because of him?"

"No this is not because of him."

"Katsuki, if it is—"

"This is not because of him."

Shouto feels the frustration building within himself and his voice comes out harsher than he intended. "Then why do you always do this?"

“Do what?”

“This! Shutting me down. Shutting this down!" He motions in between him and Katsuki. "Cutting every moment between us short. Like you’re too afraid of what’s going to happen next or something.” 

Shouto surprises himself as he yells, the tightness in his chest only getting worse as the seconds tick by. Then Katsuki snaps, matching Shouto’s volume, and it's a miracle they don't wake the others. 

“You wanna know why? Really?”

“Please!”

“Because I know that some day you’re going to fucking leave!" Katsuki eyes snap up to meet Shouto's, piercing in the moonlight that leaks in through the window. "One way or another. Whether a fucking hollow gets you, or disease or some shit. Or maybe you’ll follow through one day and finally end it all yourself.” 

Shouto flinches and Katsuki pretends not to see. But his volume tapers off some as he continues.

“It doesn’t matter how. It’s all the fucking same in the end." He looks down at the floor again. "So I decided a long time ago that I would leave first, before you ever had the chance to.”

Katsuki is breathing heavily—like it’s taking all the strength left in him to get this out, and Shouto stays silent, too stunned to speak as he watches Katsuki’s expression evolve from rage into something raw.

“But you're like a fucking drug. I can't stay away. I would wake up every day in that little fucking town and say to myself, that’s it. Today is the day.” Katsuki's voice quivers as he continues. “Today is the day I get the fuck out and don't look back. I was doing fine on my own." He goes silent then, and for a minute all Shouto can hear is the hammering of his own heartbeat. "I was doing fine before you."

He wants to respond—he wants to, but he can't find his voice. 

Exhaling a shaky breath, Katsuki continues. "Then I brought you here, and you met everyone." He sneers. "And they all fucking loved you."

Shouto's face pinches up at that. He doesn't understand how that word could be said with so much anger—so much loathing. He wants Katsuki to stop talking. He wants to clap his hands over his ears and squeeze his eyes shut until Katsuki stops fucking talking. But instead, he looks at Katsuki with wide eyes, and the hurt he's feeling bleeds into his features. 

Katsuki backs off then. He runs his hands through his hair and grips it tight, hiding his face behind his forearms as if he can't even stand to look back at him. 

“I couldn't do it. I could never fucking do it.” The words almost come out as a whimper, like he's saying it more to himself than to Shouto.

This is what heartbreak feels like. It must be. Shouto would rather fight a hundred hollows than feel this— have his guts ripped out a hundred times over and then some rather than hear Katsuki yell at him like this. Finally though, he summons the strength to speak. 

“How long?” Shouto's voice comes out so small in comparison to the rage that came from Katsuki only moments ago. "How long have you wanted to leave?"

Katsuki drops his arms and finally meets Shouto’s eyes again. His expression is flat. He looks tired now— defeated almost. 

“Since the day we first found that record shop.”

Shouto feels his heart sink.

He remembers that day. They way Katsuki’s demeanor had changed so drastically. Shouto was so stupid at the time, blaming it on Katsuki’s injury. Fuck, he was so stupid. Shouto looks back at the time in that town and can easily say they were the best days of his life. But now to know that Katsuki spent every single one of those days wanting to leave him… It's too much to think about. 

He needs to get out right now. He needs to run back to Momo's, gather up his things and leave. He could be out of this city within the hour if he tried. He could give Katsuki what he wants—disappear from his life entirely. 

But his fucking stubbornness keeps him put. 

"Are you that scared?" Shouto's voice barely reaches above a whisper. "Of the future? Of what might happen? That you can't even let yourself enjoy what's in front of you right now."

Katsuki laughs a bitter, humorless laugh in response and it's the last thing Shouto expected out of him. He recoils and braces himself for another outrage. But Katsuki's voice stays quiet, almost calm. "That's fucking golden—coming from someone who's so scared of the past that he's letting it destroy him."

And then Shouto finally understands. They're not so different. In fact they're not really different at all. Shouto drops his head and huffs out a breath as he slowly shakes it back and forth. He's been meaning to bring this up, and what better time than now. 

"Fucking hypocrite…"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not an idiot, Katsuki," Shouto sneers as he looks back up at Katsuki. "What about your pistol? That one bullet you're saving? "

Katsuki clicks his tongue. "What about it?"

"You're saving it for yourself, aren't you?"

Katsuki goes quiet, and that's all the answer Shouto needs. He turns and takes a few steps away, needing to distance himself from Katsuki and the conversation entirely. There's too many thoughts in his head right now and he can't focus on one of them long enough to make any sense out of it. Bringing his arms up, Shouto grabs the back of his neck and breathes, listening to the crackling of the fireplace as he attempts to calm himself.

Katsuki doesn't respond for a long, long time and the dark, quiet townhouse begins to feel haunted. 

"I never used it, did I?" 

"You still have it."

"So?" Katsuki looks like he wants to argue by default, but suddenly his expression falls. He sighs. "It's just… a reminder, I guess. Of all the shit that's happened."

A reminder? Why would someone torture themselves like that? Only a masochist would want to be constantly reminded that they shot and killed the person they loved most. Shouto frowns. "Are you scared you're going to forget?"

Katsuki glances away from Shouto, focusing on something in the distance, eyes glossing over as he considers Shouto's question. Shouto sees him swallow before he gives the smallest nod.

Blue and grey eyes bounce back and forth over Katsuki, searching for the lie, but he can't find it. He huffs then and drops his head. It's pretty funny actually. Where Shouto runs from the memories of his past, Katsuki is desperately trying to hold on to them. Katsuki's fear comes from forgetting rather than remembering, and Shouto isn't sure which one is worse. Minutes of silence roll by as they both become lost in their thoughts. And the entire time, Shouto can't fight the overwhelming guilt that has been building in his core. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "For going behind your back and asking Kirishima about him. It wasn't my place."

Katsuki sighs. "You had to find out some way."

Shouto drops his eyes and only nods in response, and they fall back into a silence. He plays their argument over in his head again and he's unsure if it actually even accomplished anything. What do they do now? Does Shouto still walk out that door? Is that what Katsuki wants?

"So what happens now?" Shouto finally asks. Honestly, he needs Katsuki’s help on this one.

Katsuki looks up at him. "What do you want to happen?"

"What do you want to happen?"

Shouto can't be the one to make this decision. It needs to be Katsuki’s. He braces himself for the worst, because he knows Katsuki will be honest with his answer. It's what they both deserve now after all of this. But the worst doesn't come. In fact quite the opposite happens. 

"I want to kiss you again."

Shouto pauses. He doesn't think he heard him correctly. "What?"

"I want to kiss you again. That's what I want to fucking happen. So can I?"

He blinks at Katsuki. What a silly question. Of course. Of course he can. Why is he even asking? Shouto doesn't trust his voice not to break, so once again all he does is nod in response. And before he knows it, Katsuki is quickly crossing those miles in between them. 

The kiss is hungrier than all the others before it. Because it's Katsuki. He pours his whole heart into everything he does. It's just how he is, and this kiss is no different. It devours Shouto— consumes him entirely and Shouto welcomes it. He feels Katsuki’s hands fist his shirt and they fall together against the countertop with a thud. Shouto lets himself get lost in it. Finally, there's no hesitation in their actions, no second-guessing. This is what Katsuki wants and he gives him full control. 

Everything is perfect and Shouto never wants it to end, so he lets out a groan of disapproval when Katsuki eventually breaks the kiss.

"Let's go to bed," Katsuki says into the skin of his neck before nipping down on it.

Shouto groans again, but this time it's in approval. Katsuki is waiting for an actual answer though, and when he impatiently bites down again, Shouto grinds forward into Katsuki’s hip and whispers, "Okay."

Katsuki quickly turns, grabbing Shouto’s arm and pulling him down the hallway towards the bedroom. Shouto's mind is in the clouds. It doesn't feel like any of this is actually happening. But the sound of the door shutting behind them clears his head some. Katsuki immediately pins Shouto against it, skipping his lips entirely this time and going straight for Shouto's neck, peppering little kisses along his jawline. Shouto sighs and drops his head back against the door. 

"I thought we were going to bed," he says with a smirk.

Katsuki growls. "Do you know how long I've been wanting to do this?" He runs his hands up Shouto’s torso, pulling his shirt up along with it, and once he gets it over his head he looks Shouto directly in the eye. His expression sends a shiver straight through Shouto. "Don't you dare make me rush this."

Katsuki finds his lips again, biting down and pulling on the bottom one and making Shouto chase after him. They've kissed before. They've even gotten each other off before. But this feels so much different. There's meaning behind this. The first time felt rushed, urgent, as if they were both simply lost in the heat of the moment. But Katsuki's taking his time with this. He knows exactly what's happening—what's about to happen, and still chooses to continue. Katsuki wants this, and it makes Shouto want it even more. 

They kiss as if they're breathing life into each other. And Shouto thinks perhaps that's not too far off. He feels Katsuki’s rough hands roaming all over his chest, his shoulders, his back, his stomach, and Katsuki pulls back to examine him in the minimal light from the moon.

"You don't have any scars."

Shouto frowns at the statement. It's an odd thing to say at the moment but he supposes it's true. Besides the various cuts that needed stitching and a few broken bones here and there, Shouto had never suffered a major injury. He always guessed it was just luck, but he can't deny it has something to do with his skill wielding that sword. Enji taught him well, afterall. 

Katsuki then brings his hand up to the one scar that did exist on his body, the nasty one that began at his forehead and traveled down under his left eye, the discolored skin further pronouncing the pale blue iris located at the center of it. Katsuki had never asked about it before, or ever even acknowledged it. But now he runs his thumb along its edge, and Shouto does nothing but look at him.

"How did you get it?" Katsuki asks quietly.

Shouto swallows. "My mother. She was making tea one night when I was younger and I startled her. She accidentally spilled the boiling water on me."

Katsuki nods and just continues to trace the scar with his thumb, but Shouto can't even feel it. He had never blamed his mother for any of it. She was always so jumpy, and it was his fault for sneaking up on her. He never blamed her for anything, ever. She was living in a separate hell of her own.

"My father almost killed her that night," he continues, and he's not sure why. He's never told anyone this. "Beat her within an inch of her life. Saying something about how she ruined me—about how I was perfect and she went and ruined me."

Katsuki flinches but he doesn't drop his hand. Instead, he kisses the corner of Shouto's mouth. "Let's not talk about him."

Shouto squeezes his eyes closed as he shuts off his mind. He finds Katsuki's mouth again, kissing and kissing him until he forgets it all. It's dangerous how well it works. 

Shouto’s not sure how long they stay like this, roaming hands touching everything they can reach as they simultaneously explore each other's mouths. But Shouto doesn't care how long it's been. He could stay like this forever. 

Inasa had been the only other person Shouto had ever allowed this close, and still he never felt this way with him. Their 'relationship' was something of a necessity—something to give Shouto some stability, or else he would have crumbled the day Touya walked out that door. He doesn't want to say his feelings for Inasa were forced, because they weren't. But they were manufactured, and as Shouto looks back on it now he thinks how unfair that must have been for him.

Katsuki kisses down Shouto's neck and along the top of his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. He buries his nose in the blonde hair, taking in Katsuki’s scent before suddenly, Katsuki drops down to his knees. 

Shouto swallows as Katsuki looks up at him and begins undoing his pants. The rate at which his blood rushes south makes him lightheaded. Katsuki hasn't even touched him yet, but Shouto drops his head back against the door and curses under his breath. Finally, he feels the cold air reach his skin as Katsuki pulls him out of his pants, and Shouto looks down at him once more. But Katsuki is too focused on the part of Shouto that is in front of his face now. He places a small kiss on the tip of his cock before licking a stripe starting from the base all the way to the tip. 

Shouto gasps and Kastuki smirks up at him. Fuck he had missed that smirk. And there's something about it coming from Katsuki when he's on his knees that just makes it so much more delectable . 

"You look good from this angle," Katsuki says after pulling his tongue back in his mouth.

"So do you."

Katsuki huffs, then grabs the base of his cock and takes the entire head into his mouth. Shouto sighs as the combined sensation and imagery overwhelms him. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't fantasized about Katsuki knelt down between his legs— more than once, in fact. But this is the real deal and Shouto has to hold onto the door to keep himself upright. 

Slowly, Katsuki takes more and more of him into his mouth, rubbing his tongue back and forth along the underside as he dips down and swirling it around the tip as he pulls back. Then without warning, he takes everything Shouto has in one go. He grabs onto his hips to hold him in place and Shouto can feel Katsuki swallow around him. It's a sensation he's never felt before and it has his mouth falling open and his eyes rolling in the back of his skull. Katsuki stays there, holding his entire length in his mouth, and it's almost too much for Shouto to handle. He has to bite the skin on the back of his hand just to keep himself from coming right then and there. Katsuki’s mouth— his throat— is so warm, so inviting. 

He places his other hand in Katsuki’s hair— whether to keep him in place, or pull him off, Shouto isn't quite sure. But the edge is quickly approaching, and Shouto isn't quite ready to stumble over it yet. Gripping the blonde hair tighter, he pulls Katsuki off his cock with a pop. 

The sight that meets his eyes is almost better— Katsuki all red-faced, chest heaving as he catches his breath. His lips parted and a dribble of saliva running down his chin and dripping thickly on the floor underneath him. Shouto engrains that image into his head, putting it somewhere safe for future use. 

"Too much?" Katsuki mocks and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I'm just not ready for it to be over yet."

Katsuki bites the inside of his thigh. "Good. Get these clothes off and go lay down then."

Shouto doesn't have to think about it. He steps around Katsuki and strips off every piece of clothing remaining and sits on the edge of the bed. He watches Katsuki fumble through the contents of the dresser drawer before he returns next to the bed with a bottle in hand. The label read 'Coconut oil'. Shouto vaguely remembers Denki talking about how he collects the stuff from every abandoned supermarket they come across, saying something about how valuable it will be in the future. Shouto understands why now.

Katsuki places the bottle on the nightstand and steps in front of Shouto, still fully clothed and looking down at him. Shouto feels strange as the only naked one and tugs on the hem of his shirt. 

"Take this off."

Katsuki complies and Shouto watches the muscles underneath twist and pull with the motion. He can't stop himself from running his hand over the dips and divots of Katsuki’s torso, feeling the firm muscle underneath the soft skin. He then traces the large scar that harshly interrupts the soft skin and recalls the day the injury occurred. After all this time it looks much better now, but Shouto's breath still catches as he remembers just how close to death Katsuki had truly been that day, and if Shouto hadn't found him when he did… 

"Hey."

The voice causes Shouto to look up, finding Katsuki’s eyes in the darkness. 

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" Shouto asks.

"Thinking."

He gives Katsuki a confused look but returns to the scar. Leaning forward, Shouto places a light kiss on the uneven skin where it begins by his left rib. Slowly, he trails down it, following the scar with his lips now. As he does, his hands drop to Katsuki's pants and begin to undo them for the second time that night. But this time Katsuki doesn't stop him. His pants and underwear fall collectively to the ground and pool at Katsuki’s feet before he steps out of them, leaving both of them completely naked in the moonlight.

Shouto takes the time to fully appreciate the sight before him. Every inch of Katsuki is beautiful. Every mole, every scar, every imperfection. Every dusty blonde hair that travels south from his belly button. The smell of his arousal is intoxicating and hard to ignore now that it's right in front of Shouto's face. He leans forward again and ghosts his lips along the side of Katsuki’s cock, dragging his open mouth to the tip, then flicking his tongue out to collect the bead of precum collecting there. This earns a hiss from Kastuki and he threads his fingers through Shouto’s hair. It feels nice. But Katsuki pulls him away.

"I said lay down, asshole."

Shouto frowns, but Katsuki's voice is rough and thick and very, very difficult to defy. So Shouto lays back in the bed and rests his head on the pillow that smells so overwhelmingly of Katsuki. And everything about this is so surreal. He closes his eyes for a moment and just breathes.

This is really happening.

"Have you ever… kissed anyone else?"

"Hmm?" Touya mumbles, rolling on his side to look at Shouto who's sitting on the floor of his bedroom picking nervously at the hem of his shirt.

Shouto pouts. "You're old enough, right? Mom says only old kids can kiss other people."

Touya waves Shouto off, annoyed that his nap got interrupted. "Yeah yeah… I've kissed other people."

"Was dad mad?"

"He doesn't know."

Shouto looks down and he scrunches his face up. "Have you ever… done the other stuff with anyone else?"

"Mhmm."

"Really?" His mismatched eyes light up. "What's it like?"

Touya sighs and rolls onto his back again, closing his eyes. "It's nicer. Other people aren't as mean. They want to make you happy, usually."

Shouto blinks at his brother. "They want to make you happy…"

Shouto opens his eyes when he feels Katsuki climb into the bed over top of him. It seems like an eternity since he has touched him, but in reality it's only been a few minutes. Still, Shouto reaches out to him, wrapping his arms around Katsuki’s neck to pull him in, desperately colliding their lips once more. The warmth of his naked body pressed up against his own is a feeling he doesn't think he'll ever get used to. It feels so right. It makes sense, like this is how things are supposed to be. But things in Shouto’s life were never the way they're supposed to be. They never have been. 

And that makes this all feel wrong. 

His arms squeeze around Katsuki’s neck a little tighter, pressing their mouths together a little harder. He needs to be closer . Katsuki's tongue is so deep in his mouth and Shouto moans around it. Bucking his hips, he rubs his bare cock against Katsuki’s thigh and a jolt of pleasure rushes through him. It felt so good. Too good. Everything about this is too good. 

Shouto suddenly breaks the kiss, turning his head to the side and squeezing his eyes shut. His heart rate quickens. Fuck fuck fuck. 

Katsuki pulls back. "Hey… chill. What's going on?" 

He swallows. "Nothing. I'm okay."

"Listen, nothing has to happen–"

"I said I'm fine." Shouto responds a bit too harshly and he knows it. He reels his emotions back in. Softer, he pleads, "Just… keep touching me."

Katsuki gives him a skeptical look and hesitates just long enough for Shouto to think he's ruined everything. But eventually Katsuki dips his head down again to roughly nip on Shouto's earlobe.

"I'm not fucking stupid, Sho." He says directly into his ear before suddenly rocking back on his heels, gaining Shouto's full attention now. "I need you to tell me if any of this is too much. Because I'm not gonna fucking know what your limits are without you saying something."

Shouto looks up at Katsuki, tracing desperate circles into one of the thighs caging him in, trying to sooth Katsuki, because Katsuki being angry at him right now just might be enough to cause the fragile wall he has built in his mind to crumble. He wants Katsuki so badly. He needs him. And now that he has him, he's too scared to let go. He's too scared to fuck it all up. He quickly nods up at Katsuki. 

"Promise?" It's more of a demand than a question. 

"I promise."

It doesn't seem enough to entirely convince him, but soon enough Katsuki leans forward again, pressing himself up against Shouto, and that's all he really cares about right now. 

He feels Katsuki bring his hands up, cradling Shouto's head as he sucks on the spot just below his earlobe. Sighing, Shouto raises his hips again to meet that wonderful friction of Katsuki’s thigh. He grips Katsuki's shoulders and continues the motion, rubbing against his thigh as Katsuki works his mouth down the column of Shouto's neck and along his collarbone. Drifting further down, he takes one of Shouto's nipples into his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth. Shouto lets go of his shoulders, leaving behind little crescent patterns that mark the skin there, and runs his fingers through the messy blonde hair. It's always softer than he imagines it to be. 

It's not long before Katsuki continues to travel south, kissing and nipping his way down Shouto's stomach, spending extra time at the spot where his hip bone dips in. Goosebumps blossom over him as Katsuki licks and sucks the sensitive skin on the inner crease of his thigh, and Shouto bucks forward again, attempting to find any contact whatsoever. But Katsuki goes through great effort to avoid touching Shouto's cock now. He draws his eyebrows together and groans in protest.

"So fuckin' needy." Katsuki’s voice travels through him like it was a piece of him he'd been missing all along, filling the gaps between his nerve endings, allowing him to feel things that didn't even exist to him before now. He takes a deep breath because it's all so overwhelming. 

Katsuki straightens himself and leans over, grabbing the bottle off the nightstand. Shouto watches him as he focuses on the task of coating his fingers with the clear substance. His heart rate quickens, and he tells himself it's from excitement. Those red eyes momentarily flick up to check on Shouto, but he must not find anything too worrisome because he closes the bottle and places it back on the nightstand before settling back in between Shouto’s legs.

Shouto takes another deep breath. It feels as if he can't get enough air in his lungs anymore. But that's okay. He's okay. Katsuki's here. Katsuki is the one with him, and no one else.

He feels Katsuki spread his legs further apart. It's okay it's okay it's okay. 

"Open your eyes. Look at me, Sho. Don't go somewhere else."

When did he close his eyes? He pries them open and finds Katsuki in the moonlight again. His silhouette soothes him some. He wishes it soothed him completely.  

"Do you trust me?"

That's not fair. That's not fucking fair. Of course he trusts him. At one point in his life, he trusted his father too. But what did that get him? 

Trust is only a word.

Suddenly the hand on Shouto's thigh holding his legs open feels much larger, much hotter. Its grip is too tight. His leg will surely bruise. Shouto feels smaller, weaker. He can't fight back. He's stuck here, and there's nothing he can do. Tears collect at the corners of his eyes and he covers them with his arm. He can't let him see him cry. 

He doesn't like it when he cries. 

"Stop crying."

Shouto's fists are clenched so tight in the sheets as his body is violently rocked back and forth. He's not even sure how the man knows he's crying with the way his face is shoved into the pillow. Why did he even bother with the pillow? There's no comfort here.

"I said stop." 

His father's words are emphasized with several particularly harsh thrusts, and Shouto chokes back a sob. 

"You're nearly a teenager now. Your brother never cried at this age."

It's true. Touya probably never cried like him. But Shouto couldn't even ask him now, because he's gone. He left him and he doesn't know why. Left him to fight this monster all alone. Shouto pushes his face further into the pillow and stays silent, waiting for it all to be over.

He feels wetness on his arm as it's ripped away from his face. 

"Fuck, Shouto. What did I just tell you…"

The voice brings Shouto back to reality. And as glad as he is to be out of the memory, reality is almost worse. It's over—ruined. Katsuki is hovering over him, the concern on his face being poorly masked with anger. It's a strange expression, Shouto notes somewhere in the lucid part of his brain. He doesn't like it. He's trying to breathe. Well, he is breathing. It's just not working. The breaths come in as short little gasps, never really filling his lungs and he's starting to see stars because of it.

"Breathe, princess. Come on." Katsuki brushes the hair away from Shouto's forehead and caresses his cheek, running his thumb along the scar. "It's just me here."

It's just Katsuki. It's just Katsuki, Shouto repeats it in his head. He nods hastily to let him know he hears him. 

As Katsuki continues to rub his cheek, his breathing begins to calm and he's able to take deeper and deeper breaths. But that only allows the tears to fall harder. 

"I can't… I can't…" he manages to voice between sobs.

"It's okay. Fuck. Why are you trying to rush this?"

"I don't… I'm not…" Shouto shakes his head back and forth.

"Stop, okay. Listen. We finally got our shit figured out." Katsuki's expression softens. "We have all the time in the world for this part now."

Shouto's face twists up because he doesn't want this to be over. This isn't how the night was supposed to end. He so badly wanted Katsuki to be his cure. He wanted him to be enough to smother the memories. He thought Katsuki would be enough. But his father had carved out a spot so deep within him that even Katsuki couldn't reach it. 

Katsuki pulls him up into his lap, and Shouto clings to him, pressing his face into his chest. The smell of him, the warmth of their bodies together, the slow rise and fall of his chest— all of it seems to finally be enough to calm him, and after a few minutes Shouto is able to take a normal breath again.

He hates himself. He hates that he's like this. He hates that his father still controls him. He hates that Katsuki has to see him like this. 

"I'm sorry." His words are muffled as they're spoken into Katsuki’s skin. Katsuki has to hate him too. This night could have been perfect. But Shouto fucking ruined it. Like he ruins everything. His fingers dig into Katsuki's back. "Can you fix me?"

He's so fucking pathetic. 

Katsuki sighs. "You're not broken, Sho."

Shouto's eyes flutter open, brushing Katsuki’s skin with his lashes. But he doesn't pull back. Only silence follows as he waits for Katsuki to continue, and Shouto gets lost in his thoughts again. 

How the fuck did he ever end up with Katsuki? Out of everyone on this hell of a planet, how was it Katsuki who found him on that day—in the same moment he decided to end his life? Things like this don't happen to him. People like Katsuki aren't real. They didn't exist in Shouto’s world. Only horrible people existed in Shouto’s world. Or people too scared or stupid to do anything about those horrible people. 

But Katsuki isn't any of those things. He isn't any of those people. Katsuki is smart, brave, confident, even kind in his own way. He is the stability Shouto has craved his entire life. He makes Shouto feel alive when he hasn't felt alive in years. And now that he thinks about it, Shouto couldn't ever imagine cutting any of this short. He couldn't imagine never waking up again, never seeing Katsuki's face again. He couldn't imagine putting Katsuki through the pain of losing someone else. The world is evil, but Katsuki gives him the confidence to face that evil. 

"Hey." Katsuki's voice comes out a whisper, but it still shatters the silence they had been consumed in for the past few minutes. "You still awake?"

Shouto nods against Katsuki’s chest.

"Let's get some sleep. It's late."

Shouto finally pulls back and he looks at Katsuki as if he's looking at him for the first time. 

He nods. "Okay."

Chapter Text

The muffled voices drifting in from the living room are just loud enough to pull Shouto from his sleep. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, and that's when he feels the heavy arm draped around his waist. It squeezes, pulling him closer to the warmth of the body pressed firmly behind him. 

Katsuki's scent is all around him and Shouto hums in adoration. He squints in the sunlight that pours in through the window, bathing the room in an orange glow and highlighting the specks of dust floating around, turning the space into the setting for a fairytale. It looks deceivingly warm and Shouto almost forgets how frigid the air is outside the confines of their shared bed.

He can't exactly make out what the pair of voices are saying, but his jacket and shoes certainly must have been spotted by now, so likely it's some gossip revolving around that. Shouto finds it hard to care though. Instead, he buries his face further under the blanket and away from the bright, chilly reality of the morning.

Then his stomach growls, and he feels Katsuki blow out an amused breath on the back of his neck. 

"Someone's hungry."

Rolling over, Shouto blinks up at him. He can feel the night of restful sleep still weighing on his eyelids and he tries to remember the last time he was ever able to sleep straight through the night. 

"I've been hungry before. It can wait," Shouto grumbles into the covers.

Katsuki just twitches an eyebrow and puffs out another breath before he lets his eyes fall closed, and eventually the sharp features of his face begin evening out again. He looks so serene—so angelic like this. Like another human being all together. Shouto almost feels uncomfortable staring, as if he's looking at something he shouldn't be allowed to see. Slowly though, he gives in to the heaviness of sleep, content just to listen to the steady sound of the other man's breathing. 

But that sound is rudely interrupted by another noise from his stomach. Shouto groans. 

"Obviously your stomach isn't going to let us go back to sleep. Come on."

Shouto pouts. "I don't want to get up yet. They're going to want to talk about it."

"What?"

"Mina and Kirishima. They're going to ask questions about us."

"Then I'll tell them to shut the fuck up."

Shouto frowns and groans again when his stomach adds another noise to their conversation. 

"Come on, grumpy. It won't be that bad."

"Fine."

They both climb out from under the warm covers and hurriedly get dressed before the chill can seep into their bones. Shouto stops behind Katsuki, waiting for him to open the door, but Katsuki's hand only hovers above the doorknob a moment before he turns around to face him. Shouto blinks in confusion, opening his mouth to ask him why he'd stopped, but suddenly Katsuki steps into his space, his large hand coming around to grip the back of Shouto's head. Meeting him halfway, he pulls Shouto forward into a kiss, but just as Shouto begins to relax into it, Katsuki pulls back and turns around again. 

"Let's go," he says quietly before finally opening the door and exiting the bedroom. Shouto pauses before following him out, needing that extra second to compose himself.

The living room is much warmer thanks to the crackling fire, so Shouto thinks their decision to leave the bedroom isn't that terrible, but the curious and a little too excited faces of his hosts are almost enough to send him scurrying back to the bedroom.

"Shut the fuck up," Katsuki says as he turns into the kitchen in search of the coffee pot before anyone else has a chance to speak.

"We didn't even say anything!" Mina complains from her spot on the couch. "Jeeze. At least start with a 'Good morning' or something."

"Good morning," Shouto says to Mina before taking a seat at the breakfast bar. 

"See. At least Shouto has some manners." 

Katsuki scoffs and pours himself a cup of coffee before offering one to Shouto who graciously accepts it. The ceramic feels warm in his hands, and as he's blowing the steam off of the top his eyes connect with Kirishima’s across the kitchen. 

The other man could have certainly worn a smug look—something along the lines of 'See, I was right. Told you he'd come around'. But he didn't. Kirishima just genuinely looked happy. Almost relieved, in a sense. He smiles at Shouto, and Shouto can't stop himself from smiling back from behind his coffee cup. 

"This is good, right? You two, I mean." Kirishima asks, eyes bouncing back and forth between Shouto and Katsuki.

"Heh?" Katsuki spurts out.

"Come on, dude. We're not stupid." Kirishima then looks at Shouto, hoping to perhaps have better luck with him. Hesitating, Shouto looks to Katsuki for assistance, but the other man only stares back and arches his eyebrow, as if saying 'it's your call'. 

Shouto just sighs and smiles. "Yeah. This is good."

He hears Mina squeak from behind him on the couch before she jumps up and wraps her arms around him. "Finally!"

Shouto's smile only grows as she rocks him back and forth and he looks up to see Kirishima put his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Nothing is said between them, though it appears the simple gesture is more than enough communication for the two of them.

"This calls for a celebration!" Mina chirps from behind Shouto's ear.

"Fuck off. You'll literally celebrate anything, Pinky."

"But this definitely needs celebrating! Drinks tonight!"

"Oh my god. Fine. Whatever."

A full belly definitely makes it easier to walk through the cold morning streets of Musutafu and through the quickly growing crowds of people as they begin their day's activities. Katsuki dragged him out almost immediately after breakfast, but he didn't mention anything about why or what they were doing. 

"Where are we going?" Shouto asks, pulling his scarf up over his nose.

"We're on wall duty today. You and me."

Shouto looks at Katsuki questioningly. "Wall duty?"

"Mhm. Hollows like to pick apart our wall from the outside. So, every so often someone's gotta patrol the perimeter and make note of any damages. It's a bonus if we get any action along the way."

"Sounds exciting."

Katsuki growls and narrows his eyes at him. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

"I'm not. I'm excited."

"Then fucking sound excited."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

Katsuki growls again. "I don't know. Smile or something. And make your voice not so blah."

Shouto frowns. Blah? 

He turns towards Katsuki and pulls up the corners of his mouth, hoping it doesn't look as awkward as it feels. He repeats with more fervor, "Sounds exciting!"

Katsuki stops walking all together, causing Shouto to stop a couple feet ahead of him, turning around to see what the problem is.

"What?"

"Oh my god. Don't ever do that again."

"Did I not do it right?" Shouto asks, watching as Katsuki walks by him again, quickening his pace to catch back up to him.

"I'm literally going to have nightmares." 

Shouto pouts, and they continue a few more minutes until they stop in front of Momo's house.

"Go grab your shit and let's go. We're gonna run out of daylight if we keep fucking around," Katsuki orders. 

Nodding, Shouto wastes no time hopping up the couple stairs leading to the front door. He knows Momo is already at the lab by now so he doesn't bother yelling out to her once he's inside. He'll see her tonight at the bar, anyway. There he can tell her he will officially be moving out. Though the thought actually makes him a bit sad, since he genuinely enjoyed his time here with her. But he justifies it by telling himself he'll still see her around Musutafu frequently enough. And the idea of staying in Katsuki’s room—in his bed—is much more appealing. 

Standing in the doorway, he glances around the empty house, admiring the warm feeling he has in his chest as he thinks about the future. It's a strange, foreign feeling, but he's actually looking forward to these small events to come. Moving in with Katsuki, seeing everyone at the bar later tonight. As insignificant as they seem, it's still something Shouto finds himself looking forward to. He's pretty sure the only thing he would ever find himself excited for before would be finding a suitable bed to sleep on for the night.

He finds his backpack and katana right where he had left them the night before and briefly remembers the state of panic he'd been in when he had packed it all up. Funny how quickly things can change… Scooping everything up, he takes one last look at the home he'd spent the last two weeks in before stepping back out the front door. 

"Took you long enough," Katsuki grumbles, turning on his heel and starting back the way they came, leaving Shouto to catch up to him.

Musutafu is a large city. Shouto knows that. But he had greatly underestimated the length of the wall they would be walking along. He tries not to feel overwhelmed as the two of them exit the city limits through the two massive gates and out into the wilderness.

"How long will it take us to make it all the way back around?" 

"Five or six hours. If you don't slow me down," Katsuki answers as he drops his gear and begins stretching his legs. Shouto watches him a moment before deciding he should probably do the same. 

The terrain appears to be level enough to not make their journey completely miserable, which is good considering how out of practice either of them are. But Shouto is actually looking forward to the physical activity. As strange as it sounds, he's missed the burn that the cold winter air leaves in his lungs.

After successfully limbering up, the two of them begin the trek, and Shouto remains amazed at the sheer size of the wall. Not only did the assortment of bricks, wood, and metal encircle the entire perimeter of the city, but it stretched about two stories tall as well. It's insane to imagine anyone building this without the help of machines.

"Did you help build this?" Shouto asks with his neck craned, admiring the structure.

"Some. I was only seven or eight at the time so I couldn't really do a lot."

"It's amazing."

Katsuki grunts. "It's a piece of shit. But it does its job, I guess. Makes people feel safe."

Shouto hums to himself. That's more than enough, he thinks. A sense of safety in this fucked up world is so hard to come by. But he supposes over the years it has slowly become easier as settlements like this merge into something that could almost be called a fortress. It's nice for these people to have a safe and reliable place to call home.

"Kirishima told me how you hardly ever come back here anymore."

Katsuki pauses a moment then scoffs. "Boy, you guys really had a nice chit chat that night, huh?"

"It was just… something he mentioned." Shouto mutters and Katsuki only clicks his teeth in annoyance at that. He briefly considers leaving the topic altogether but ultimately decides against it and pushes further. "How come?"

"Huh?"

"How come you don't ever stay?"

Katsuki’s pace doesn't waver at all, but his voice drops slightly, though it doesn't come out any less annoyed than before. "Do I really need to fucking answer that?"

That's when Shouto regrets pushing the topic. It's not fair for him to continuously dig up these painful memories for Katsuki. Katsuki never did that to him. But Shouto still can't seem to understand how someone would voluntarily leave a place so safe and filled with people so willing to give their love. It just doesn't make sense to him. 

After a few minutes of silence, he's about to change the subject, but Katsuki finally speaks again. "I just… got tired of all the fucking pity. Everyone had the same goddamn look in their eye."

Surprised, Shouto glances up at him, not actually expecting to receive a real answer to his question. 

"So, then why do you even come back at all?"

"Jesus. What is this, twenty-fucking-questions?" Katsuki snaps.

"Sorry." Shouto drops his gaze. "You don't have to answer that."

He hears Katsuki curse under his breath. "Because… fuck. They're all a bunch of idiots here. I gotta make sure they're still alive and shit."

Shouto blinks at Katsuki before returning his gaze in front of him. He smiles softly to himself but remains quiet. He's smart enough to read between the lines. Katsuki cares about these people. Of course he does. It's his home and always will be. You can't really just change something like that. 

The two of them walk for a while in silence after that, stopping every so often to mark down damages in the wall and making note of the supplies needed to repair them. It's a pretty peaceful job, actually. None of the busy streets or loud conversations that Shouto had grown accustomed to. No banging of hammers or rickety wheels rolling over cracked pavement. Only the sounds of their footsteps crunching through the snow and the wind blowing through frozen trees.

"I'm not still hung up on him." Katsuki's voice interrupts the silence the two had fallen into and Shouto glances over at him, eyebrows drawn together as he tries to figure out what exactly he's talking about. Katsuki clarifies, "Deku, I mean."

"Oh… I-"

"I just need to make sure you know that." Katsuki narrows his eyes, but keeps them focused on the path in front of him as his boots sink into the snow. 

"Okay. But… why?"

"Because. I don't need you dwelling on it too, like everyone else. And I don't want you being fucking stupid and trying to compare yourself to him or something."

Shouto frowns. He realizes they both have stopped walking now, but he stays silent as he looks at the other man, waiting. Somehow he knows this is something Katsuki needs to get off his chest. Quieter than before, Katsuki continues. 

"I loved him. Fuck, a part of me still loves him. But I've come to terms with everything a while ago. I understand what happened and why it happened. And I know I did the only thing I could have done for him. I-" Katsuki's voice wavers a bit and he clears his throat in an attempt to cover it. "I don't regret what I did."

Finally, Katsuki looks at him and Shouto only nods his head, unsure of exactly how to respond to any of that. 

"It's done and over with, and I can't change what's already happened, so why let it bring me down anymore. Right, princess?"

Shouto's eyebrows pinch together as he scans the other man. It could have been his imagination, but there seemed to be a twinkle in Katsuki’s eye as he said that last part. Something… challenging almost. Katsuki watches him for another second out of the corner of his eye as he begins walking again, leaving Shouto alone with his thoughts.

It's funny how a year ago, a comment like that would've set Shouto off. Who the fuck is this guy to tell him how he should feel? What the hell does he know? But now, after everything they've been through—after everything he's shared with him, Shouto is able to fully appreciate his words. Those words that were most certainly directed for him and not at him.

He's not stupid. He knows he can't change the past. But that knowledge has never made any of it easier.

"How can you just… accept it?" Shouto asks quietly after catching back up to him.

"Hm?"

"How can you just go on living a normal life after something like that?"

Katsuki scratches the back of his neck and rolls his shoulders a couple times. "What other choice do I have? It's just the shitty cards I was dealt. It sucks, but you still gotta play the game." He flicks those red eyes over to meet Shouto's and there's that same challenging look again. "Quitting isn’t going to change anything. It's just another way to say you lost."

And just like that, something clicks in his brain. Shouto stops walking, staring intently at the snow beneath him.

"You're right."

"What?" Katsuki stops as well and turns back to face him.

"You're right. Quitting. It doesn't solve anything."

He feels Katsuki’s eyes laying heavily on him and it's too much to ignore. Shouto looks up to see the other man examining him, eyes narrowed and a look of skepticism on his face. 

"I know I'm fucking right." Katsuki's words come out gloating, but his eyes stay narrowed, hesitant almost. 

They stand there a few moments longer just looking at each other, but when Shouto doesn't say anything else, Katsuki turns back around. He watches him walk only a couple steps before finally speaking again, and what he's about to say has his heart racing.

"I think… I changed my mind."

Katsuki pauses again, but doesn't immediately turn around. Shouto can see his jaw tense up from where he's standing until slowly, he finally turns to look at Shouto once more. "About what?"

"My… 'end goal', as you said before."

Katsuki growls. "Stop being fucking cryptic. What the hell are you trying to say?"

Shouto takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. And with the air that moves through his lungs, a sense of peace flows through him. Slowly he opens his eyes again, finding the deep crimson he knows is there waiting for him if only they were just a little closer.

"I'm saying fuck this fucked up world. It's evil and unfair and fucked up… but I'm not scared of it anymore. I'm not going to run away from it." Shouto pauses and his shoulders relax as years and years of tension leaves his body. "I want to live, Katsuki."

It's obvious how the other man tries to hide his reaction, but Shouto doesn't miss a single thing. The way the crease between his eyebrows nearly vanishes, and the movement of his throat as he swallows. He watches Katsuki pull a breath into his lungs and release it shakily, and with it his voice comes out deep and gritty, but the relief is almost palpable. 

"About fucking time."

=================

A week goes by since their impromptu 'celebration', and they find themselves back at the bar yet again. Only Mina and Kirishima join Katsuki and himself this time, though. But it's nice, just the four of them, having a couple drinks and casually passing time together. 

The week spent living with the three of them has helped Shouto grow even more comfortable around them, which wasn't actually that hard at all. He found the couple very easy to talk to in their own unique ways. Kirishima is always willing to listen, while Mina is always ready to offer her advice and support. 

It feels as though he became even closer with Kastuki as well in just that one week. The two spent the majority of the days—and nights—with each other. They stay busy though. There's no struggle in that. Katsuki's current mission is to teach Shouto how to cook—really cook. And even after multiple failed attempts, his efforts have only grown in intensity. Shouto, on the other hand, had begun giving Katsuki lessons on how to properly swing a sword, though that seems to be going even slower than his cooking progression. Turns out, it's very hard to unteach years and years of aggressively swinging baseball bats around.

The two of them even found an old, abandoned gymnasium not too far from their townhouse to start sparring in again. The physical activity did wonders for Shouto's mentality and he can tell Katsuki needed it as well. It also helped that most of these little sparring sessions ended with lingering touches and heated kisses. 

The pub isn't as busy tonight as the previous times Shouto had been there, but it still has a decent amount of people filling out the tables, forcing the four of them to take their seats at the bar. But Shouto doesn't mind. 

They have been there a couple hours, sharing stories and enjoying the company of each other when a voice from behind them completely shatters Shouto's world.

"Todoroki Shouto?"

Tensing, he sees Katsuki quickly spin around in the direction of the voice before he can even fully process what had just been said. But panic quickly fills his bloodstream as he realizes his name—his full name—had been spoken. His throat goes dry and he swallows painfully as he turns around. 

"... Camie?" 

He lets out a breath as he speaks her name, but confusion quickly replaces his panic.

"I knew it had to be you. That hair is a dead give away," the girl exclaims, wasting no time running up to Shouto, pulling him out of his seat and wrapping her arms around him. But Shouto stands still, arms awkwardly at his sides. His mind is still trying to catch up. Somewhere behind him he hears Mina whisper "Todoroki?"

"What are you… why are you here?" Shouto stammers at the girl in front of him.

"Nice to see you too, dude," she says as she pulls back and shoves his shoulder.

"You know this chick?" Katsuki asks, jabbing a thumb in her direction. 

He realizes he had never told Katsuki about Camie—or Inasa for that matter, though that one had been a bit more intentional. It had been six years, if not longer, since he last saw her. Her hair has grown out some and she now wears it pulled back in a low ponytail. She also managed to pack some more muscle onto her bones too, which was needed. But there's no mistaking that valley-girl accent. He nods to answer Katsuki’s question. 

"I grew up with her."

"We were BFFs. Get it right, Shouto," Camie chimes in. She then shoves his shoulder again. "What the hell, man. We were worried sick about you. You could've checked in with us or something. Is this where you've been this whole time?"

"Not the whole time." He hears Katsuki clear his throat next to him. "Oh. Sorry. Camie, this is Katsuki. And this is Mina and Kirishima."

She waves and smiles at the two sitting behind them before sweeping her eyes down the length of Katsuki then back up, and Shouto is suddenly reminded how much of a flirt she can be. He holds his breath, waiting for her to say something embarrassing, but luckily she just holds her hand out and shakes Katsuki’s. She then eyes Shouto again, smirking and holding the back of her hand to the corner of her mouth in order to whisper something to him. But she makes no effort to lower her volume. "Now I see why you want to stay here."

Shouto rolls his eyes. There it is. He avoids responding to her comment though, instead moving on to the bigger question at hand. "So seriously, what are you doing here?"

Camie huffs and puts a hand on her hip. "A group of us went on a supply run. But the weather got pretty terrible and we ended up here. Been here a couple nights but we're heading back out in the morning." Then her face lights up and a sly smile pulls at the corners of her lips. "I almost forgot! Inasa is here too. He's not going to believe this. Let me go get him!"

But before Shouto can say anything, Camie turns on her heels and heads over to another table out of sight, leaving Shouto’s head spinning. 

Inasa. Of course he's here. It makes sense that he and Camie would still go on runs together. Would he even want to see Shouto again, though? It's not like they left on good terms. They didn't really leave on any terms. Shouto just disappeared from his life one day. No goodbye. No 'this was fun while it lasted.' No 'you have no idea what this meant to me.'  Nothing. God, he was such an asshole. And now he has to face that.

He feels Katsuki move into his space. "You okay with this?" 

The sound of his voice interrupts the buzzing in Shouto’s head and he breathes in, attempting to settle his heart rate some. "Yeah. I know these guys. They're not dangerous."

"Dangerous?" He hears Mina question alarmingly behind them. Well that's going to be a fun conversation to have later.

Before anything more could be said, Camie returns. And following her is a tall—taller than he remembers—man, wearing a tight-fitting shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It only accentuates the thick muscles underneath that had most certainly grown since the last time Shouto had seen him. He looks threatening, but not everyone knows the big softy underneath those muscles. Shouto can't deny he looked good though.

"Shit, you weren't lying…" he hears Inasa whisper under his breath.

"Told you he's here," Camie exclaims, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. 

Shouto feels his face heat up as it always does when all the attention is on him. Shifting his weight awkwardly, he forces himself to look the man in the eye.

"Hi…"

Inasa narrows his eyes at him and they look at each other for a few excruciatingly long seconds before Inasa suddenly pulls him into a hug so tight it nearly squeezes the breath out of him.

"You fucking asshole. We thought you were dead."

Shouto tries to stay composed, neutral even. He tries really hard. But once Inasa's scent hits him, he can't stop from wrapping his arms around the bigger man, gripping his shirt as tight as he can as he feels the years rewind right before him.

"I'm sorry…" Shouto responds only loud enough for Inasa to hear. 

Eventually, the weight of all the eyes on him—one set of eyes in particular—causes Shouto to push away. He steps back and scratches the back of his neck. It seems as if the entire place goes quiet

"Why don't you two go catch up? I'll stay here and get to know these guys." Camie says after a moment with a smirk.

Inasa looks towards Shouto and Shouto nods.

"Grab your jacket," Inasa says, gesturing behind him.

Shouto turns to put his jacket on and makes eye contact with Katsuki. It was only for a brief second, but there was a flurry of emotions in those eyes. Annoyance, worry, suspicion, and… jealousy? Shouto tries his hardest to put Katsuki’s concern at ease with just a single glance. They're just catching up, nothing more.

Shouto shrugs his jacket on and turns to follow Inasa outside into the quiet darkness. The cold helps him clear his mind some, and he stares at the fur-lined hood of Inasa's coat as he follows the man across the street to a snow covered bench. Suddenly, none of this feels real. He watches Inasa brush the snow off the bench and take a seat, waiting for Shouto to do the same. But Shouto hesitates, staring at that empty space next to him for a moment before he finally turns to take a seat, as well.

They sit in silence for a while, neither one really sure where to start the conversation. Shouto stares at the snow in front of him, thinking about what he could even possibly say right now, when Inasa finally speaks.

"It's been a while, huh. What, six years?"

Shouto blinks a couple snowflakes off his eyelashes. He hadn't even realized it started snowing. 

"Yeah, something like that," he mutters casually, as if he hasn't counted every single day.

"You seem like you're doing well. Better… I guess."

Shouto looks down at his hands. "I am."

Inasa nods and sinks back against the bench. Shouto hears him let out a sigh, but it feels more frustrated than relieved. 

"That's good. I'm glad, I mean." His words come out strained and it causes Shouto to finally look up at him. "Sorry. It's just… this is a lot right now." He shakes his head back and forth. "I mean… fuck. I actually thought you were dead, Sho. We all did. I came to terms with it. It was fucking hard, but I came to terms with it. And now for you to just be here, sitting next to me…"

"I'm sorry," Shouto says again, quietly.

"Why didn't you say anything before you left? Even to your family?" He sits forward again, brows pulled together as he looks at Shouto. "I know you didn't have the best relationship with them, and I know you'll never tell me what actually went on in that house… but man, to sit back and watch your sister try to pull that family together after that..."

Shouto squeezes his fists. "Inasa. Stop."

They both go silent then and the world feels deathly still. Inasa freezes and stays in his position for a moment before finally resting his back on the bench again. Shouto almost feels guilty about snapping at him. But having to hear about his family, about the aftermath of him leaving, it was too much. 

The silence is thick and tense between them, but Shouto doesn't know what to say. Too much time has passed. They don't even know each other anymore. Not really. But how much did they really know each other in the first place? Shouto has always been a stranger to him. It's not fair to him. He's never been fair to him. He needs to apologize for what he put Inasa through. Apologize again. Fuck, how many times can he say it. 

Shouto's anxiety starts to peak. He needs to tell Inasa to stay quiet about him. Camie too. He needs to make sure they don't say anything to anyone. Especially his family. Nobody can know where he is. But he would be asking so much when he deserves nothing. Inasa doesn't owe him anything. 

So many things he needs to say. So many things he should say. It's overwhelming. 

But his father…

If his father finds out where he is… 

"Shouto."

Inasa's voice pulls him from his panic, and it's almost funny how it's just like old times. Shouto could close his eyes and pick out any memory of the two of them and it would almost be just like this. He blinks at the snow beginning to cover his knees before finally looking up at the other man. 

But what Inasa says next was never a part of his memories. 

"Touya came back."

Chapter Text

Shouto's breath catches. 

"What did you say?" 

"Your brother. He's back home." Inasa speaks the words too easily. But he supposes it's impossible for him to understand the true weight of what he's actually saying.

"I don't—I don't understand," Shouto says incredulously. 

"Touya is back home. He's alive," he emphasizes, as if the word 'alive' is the shocking part out of all of this. And then he smiles. He fucking smiles. "Shouto, if you came back too…"

"Stop." Shouto stands abruptly, trying to distance himself somewhat. His heart is pounding and his mind reeling as Inasa glances over at him, apparently surprised by his reaction. He's saying too much too fast while Shouto is still trying to connect the frayed strands, trying to get something to make sense. 

Why? Why, why, why? Why would he go back? Something isn't right.

Inasa reaches out to grab the sleeve of Shouto's coat. "Hey. Is something wrong?"

His voice only sounds like background noise though, and Shouto barely registers it above everything else going on in his head. Touya being back in the same place with him—he just can't understand it. The thought of it alone is throwing all of his systems out of whack. Just like that, his world is turned upside down. What's black is white, what's down is up. He's so dizzy he could vomit right there in the fucking snow. 

"I just… need a second." His voice comes out more strained than he expected it to.

Inasa gently tugs him backwards. "Sit back down. You don't look good."

Shouto complies, falling awkwardly back onto the bench and immediately leaning forward, hanging his head between his knees. He squeezes his eyes shut, but it doesn't help. The world is spinning too fast. Subconsciously, he can feel Inasa's hand rubbing circles on his back, and after a minute of sitting there like that, the spinning begins to ease up. 

Forcing himself to sit straight again, he looks over at the other man, and guilt floods through him when he sees the concern twisting up his features. Shouto pulls his eyes away before Inasa can say anything else, looking down at his hands instead. He takes a deep breath. 

"How long has he been back?"

"Couple months, probably."

A couple months? Shouto lets himself fall back against the bench and looks up into the snow-covered tree above them. "Have you talked to him?"

Inasa mimics Shouto's position, staring up into the trees. "No. Your family… they don't really come out much. Honestly, I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see him myself."

Shouto hums. He tries to remember the last time he saw Touya, but all the years made it hard for him to visualize a clear picture of his face anymore.

"How did he look?" His voice catches on the last syllable and he feels Inasa glance at him briefly. 

"He looked good from what I could see. Healthy. Maybe a couple extra piercings," Inasa chuckles when he says the last part and surprisingly, Shouto feels a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. 

Suddenly, a million questions riddle his mind. Did he come alone? Did he seem happy? Upset? Did he talk to anyone? Shouto doesn't know where to possibly start, but Inasa doesn't give him a chance to ask anything else. He sits forward, leaning his elbows on his knees, grabbing Shouto’s full attention.

"Look, I'm not trying to force you into anything. But we're heading back home tomorrow morning." He offers a reassuring smile. "You're more than welcome to join."

Shouto studies the other man's face, brows drawn and eyes dancing back and forth as he considers the offer. And it's absolutely insane that he's considering it at all.

"I can't," he answers sharply, cutting off his thoughts before they have a chance to take over. Then more gently he adds, "I'm sorry, but I can't."

Inasa drops his eyes and looks forward, gazing into the snow. He's silent for a minute before finally standing, stretching and twisting his back. He turns back around and smiles at Shouto, extending a large hand out to him. "Well, if you change your mind, the offer is there."

Shouto looks at the hand for a moment before taking it, pulling himself up off the bench. He follows Inasa across the street and back to the bar, but stops him right before they reach the door.

"Inasa, I need you to promise me you won't tell anyone you saw me."

The other man turns to face him, eyebrows drawn together in question. "Really?"

"Yes. I'm sorry to put that on you. But please. I wish I could tell you more, but… can you let Camie know, too?"

"Okay. I mean yeah, of course." Inasa pauses and looks back towards the door of the bar, seemingly deep in thought. "You're really happy here?"

Shouto doesn't need to think about his answer, but he still takes the time to imagine all the faces of everyone here, everyone he's met so far. How supportive and welcoming they've all been—how he could never really imagine being anywhere else. He offers Inasa a small smile and nods his head.

Huffing, Inasa turns around starting towards the door again. "I guess that's all that matters then."

Shouto sighs, relieved and thankful that Inasa doesn't pry for anything more. Even after all these years, he can still read Shouto better than almost anyone. It was one of the first things that drew Shouto towards him back when they first met—his way of showing concern without overstepping any boundaries, giving Shouto a place to go without ripping open any painful scars. It's funny how he doesn't even know how much he did for him back then. 

Shouto follows him back into the bar and they make their way over towards the group. Shouto feels Katsuki’s eyes on him the entire way. 

"Hey guys!" Mina chirps when she sees them. 

Inasa waves at her then puts his hand on Camie's shoulder, grabbing her attention. "Come on, let's head back. We have an early morning tomorrow."

"Ugh, fine. You're right." Camie throws her head back in defeat, then looks at the group again. "It was nice meeting you guys." She then gives Shouto a warm smile. "See ya, Shouto."

Inasa looks at Shouto as well, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. As Shouto glances back, he sees a sadness in his eyes and it pulls at something in him, twisting up his guts so badly that he has to look away, and in his periphery, he sees his two childhood friends turn and head towards the exit. And then they're gone. Just like that.

The bar feels strangely empty. 

Shouto sleeps in the next morning. He'd felt Katsuki get out of bed an hour or two ago, but he just can't bring himself to do the same. Sleep is good. Sleep is safe. If he wakes up, then he would have to turn his mind on. And with that comes the risk of it wandering to places he doesn't want it to go. He may consider things he doesn't want to consider. 

Like going back home.

The thought had been rolling around in the back of his head all morning, but it didn't have any real mass, any substance to it. It was just a shapeless blob floating around in the subspace of his mind. In this state it was harmless. But once he put words to it, that made it real. And it scared him.

Gripping the sheets of the bed, Shouto repeats the words in his head. He can't believe he's still thinking it—still considering it. What's wrong with him? He has everything here. People who care about him. People he cares about. Food, shelter, protection.

Katsuki. 

Katsuki is here. 

Katsuki is here and that's all that should fucking matter to him. That should be the only answer to his question—all of his questions. Katsuki is his everything now, right? He's the only thing that should ever matter.

He clenches his jaw as his mind does cartwheels behind his skull. It feels as if a fucking leech crawled into his ear and lodged itself straight into his brain, wiggling it's way right to the center. And it itches. It itches so badly and he wants to scratch it and claw at it until it bleeds. If he could give that leech a fucking name he's knows exactly what it would be. 

Shouto rolls onto his back, rubbing his eyes. He needs to get up. Obviously lying here isn't helping anymore.

"About fucking time," Katsuki says as Shouto eventually wanders into the living room, his voice sending needles down his spine instead of the usual comfort it brings. Mina and Kirishima aren't anywhere in sight, making Shouto realize how late he actually did sleep. "Didn't think you actually drank that much."

"Me neither," Shouto grumbles, jumping on the excuse Katsuki just gave him. He plops himself down on the couch in front of the fireplace, hoping the warmth will soothe him some, and mutters a thank-you as Katsuki places a cup full of coffee in front of him before taking the seat next to him.

Somehow, sitting next to Katsuki has never felt more tense. Except for maybe the first night they met each other. There's a tightness in his chest as he tries to think of something to say. Something that doesn't involve Touya.

"So did… Camie say anything about me last night?" Shouto mutters quietly to him.

Katsuki sighs as he leans back into the couch. "Yeah. Not too much though. Mina asked about the whole Todoroki thing, and she told them how Enji is your dad and shit." 

"What did Mina say to that?" Shouto asks, jaw tight. 

"Both her and Ei were surprised. But they didn't really push it any further. I guess they don't know much about him except that he runs a city. They asked me this morning if I knew about that already."

"And?"

"I said yeah. And that you don't like to fucking talk about it. That's it."

Closing his eyes, Shouto takes a sip of his coffee. It was inevitable, he supposes. They were surely going to find out sooner or later. He's just glad Katsuki was there to help shut things down in case it got too out of hand, but it'll still make for an awkward conversation later, most likely. 

"Thanks…" he sighs.

"Shouto." Katsuki sits forward, his tone now stern—demanding his attention. "This isn't good. That could've been anyone last night. I mean, fuck. Who's to say they didn't have other people with them that recognized you."

Shouto grimaces, but hides it as he takes a sip of coffee.

"And can you even trust those two? Yeah I get it, they were your friends. But it's been six fucking years, Shouto. Maybe their loyalties changed."

"I can trust them."

"How do you know?"

"I just know, Katsuki."

Katsuki narrows his eyes at him and Shouto has to look away. He has too much to think about already. He can't start considering that too. Of course it's possible that someone else saw him. But there's no way Inasa would sell him out. No fucking way. 

"Shouto… think about who you're putting at risk here. It's more than just yourself."

"I know that, Katsuki. I know." He sits back and rubs his hands down his face, feeling the weight of everything hit him all at once. "What am I supposed to do?"

"We leave." Katsuki says firmly, staring into the fire, the simple words only building onto the mountain that was currently crushing Shouto. "We leave again. It's that easy."

Shouto stares at Katsuki, watching how the flames turn his eyes golden.

"It's not that easy." He says quietly.

"The fuck do you mean? Of course it is."

"No, Katsuki. Just think. If they come here looking and they don't find me? That's not better. They won't just leave peacefully. They're going to do whatever necessary to get more information about me. I know my father. The price he has out for me will make anyone do anything."

Katsuki's jaw slides and he drops his head, running his fingers through the messy blonde hair. 

"Fuck…" Katsuki sighs, and then grips the hair close to his scalp. "Fuck! What do you suggest we do then, huh?"

Shouto pushes out a frustrated breath. He knows this is tearing Katsuki apart. Having to worry about Shouto is one thing, but now his friends, his family. They never should've come here. It was too risky, even from the beginning. They both knew it back then, and now they're paying the fucking consequences. 

But suddenly, the answer comes to Shouto. And it's so simple.

"I'll go to him."

Katsuki pauses and looks up at him, those golden-red eyes bouncing all over his face. "What?"

"I'll go to him," Shouto repeats. "Before he even has a chance to send someone looking for me."

"Don't be fucking stupid, Sho."

"I'm not. It makes the most sense, doesn't it?"

"No! It doesn't make any sense! What are you even saying right now?" Katsuki shouts, standing and turning away from him.

"Katsuki, stop. Just think about it." Shouto's voice stays calm as he speaks.

"There's nothing to think about!" He spins back towards Shouto, throwing his arm to the side as he spits the words out. 

Shouto flinches, but he doesn't respond. He knows it's pointless to argue with Katsuki when he gets like this. Nothing will get through to him. He just has to wait for him to calm down. So instead, they stare at each other, Katsuki’s heavy breathing the only thing filling the silence between them. 

Katsuki’s right, though. He's putting everyone at risk just by being here. And as much as returning to his father terrifies him, he won't be alone this time. He'll have Touya there with him. He'll finally have Touya. After all these years.

Slowly, Katsuki’s breaths even out, and Shouto can see his shoulders relax some as he drops his head, finally breaking their eye contact.

"You've already made up your mind, haven't you…"

Shouto stays silent. He pretends he doesn't hear the pain in his tone.

Katsuki sighs, and his voice comes out nowhere near the same volume as before. "What if nobody actually saw you last night? What if– what if you're doing all of this for nothing…"

"Are you willing to take that risk?" Shouto asks.

Finally, Katsuki looks up at him again. He looks so tired. 

"What…what exactly is your plan? Once you get there."

Shouto sighs and rests his head back against the couch. Truthfully, he isn't sure what his plan is exactly. He just knows that he needs to see Touya. It's the first time in over six years that he's heard anything from him. Maybe he'll figure it all out once he gets there, once he talks to him. Touya must have a reason for going back. He'll follow his lead. He trusts him, more than anyone.

"I don't… I don't know. But." Shouto takes a deep breath and lets it out before continuing. Katsuki deserves to know. "Touya is there."

"What…?"

"My brother. He's there. He…he came back."

It should've felt like a relief to finally tell someone. But somehow, it just made everything worse.

Katsuki laughs, bitterly. "So that's why."

"What?"

"It makes sense now. That's really why you're going home. You don't give a shit about protecting anyone. Just… just say that from the fucking beginning next time."

Shouto feels all the air leave his lungs at once until he's left staring back, speechless. Stunned. His eyes begin to burn. 

Instantly, the fight leaves Katsuki. He collapses back onto the couch. "Shit… I didnt– fuck. I didn't mean that."

Shouto blinks robotically until he finally looks away, choosing instead to stare into the fire, seeking its comfort, trying desperately to remember all of the times it's helped him. Just like the old days. And it works, some. He feels himself begin to melt away. 

"Fuck. Say something, Sho."

He hears his voice quiver when he finally speaks. "I…I don't know what else to do. I have to go home. I have to see him. I have to–"

Katsuki growls. "I can't just…I can't just let you go back. Not after everything you've told me."

"You're not letting me do anything." Shouto snaps.

Katsuki sighs, but it sounds more frustrated than anything. "You know that's not what I mean. Fuck. Shouto, just listen to yourself for a second. Do you even hear how crazy you sound?"

"I know–"

"How did you even find out about him?" Katsuki interrupts. 

"Inasa told me."

"That asshole from last night? You think he's actually telling you the truth?" Shouto glares at him. "Please. I saw the way he looked at you. He could easily be making that shit up just to get you to go back with him."

"He's not like that, Katsuki. He cares about me."

"Exactly."

Shouto gives up and looks into the fire again. He doesn't argue the point anymore. He knows Inasa is telling the truth, but there's no way to get that across to Katsuki. Not when he's like this. So he chooses to stay quiet, unsure of anything else he could possibly say. 

For a long, long time, nobody says anything at all. The crackling of the fire starts to sound so loud in the emptiness of the room and Shouto thinks of it as little explosions going off. But it's almost peaceful. Somehow, the weight sitting on his chest has lessened now that he made up his mind, and it feels easier to breathe, as strange as that is to think about. 

Somewhere in the middle of the silence, he hears Katsuki sigh and he waits for him to say something. But the silence continues on, both of them too lost in their own heads at the moment. 

It'll hurt to leave everyone behind—more than leaving home did. Shouto's sure of that. But he tells himself it won't be forever. It's not permanent. He'll come back. He has to.

"I'm coming with you."

Katsuki’s voice almost startles him when he finally speaks, and he quickly turns to face him.

"No," Shouto answers sharply.

"The fuck do you mean, no."

"Katsuki you can't. You have to stay here. What if they manage to send someone before I get there? You need to be here to protect them."

"You're acting like they're all fucking children here."

"I don't care. I'm not bringing you."

"Like hell you aren't."

"Katsuki. No," he says sternly.

The way Katsuki looks at him twists and pulls at his insides. But it doesn't matter. He can't… he can't…

"He's… he's fucking evil, Katsuki. I can't just…" His voice breaks. "I can't just bring you to him. He… he'll…"

Shouto doesn't even want to think about what his father could do—what he is capable of doing. He squeezes his hands into fists to try to get them to stop shaking, but it doesn't work.

"Shouto." Katsuki says, softer than before. "I can handle myself."

"No." Shouto repeats, shaking his head. "Please…"

"You can't go by yourself. It's the middle of winter for fucks sake. The journey alone will kill you." 

"I've done it before."

Katsuki doesn't respond and Shouto can't bring himself to look at him, instead staring down at his clenched fists. 

He didn't expect this to hurt so bad. He knew all along he could never bring Katsuki there. Not while his father still existed. But it still hurts so bad knowing he's leaving him behind.

But he needs to make sure Katsuki doesn't come with him. He needs to…

The silence is almost enough to drive him insane.

"So that's it?" 

Katsuki's voice is quiet, almost a whisper when he finally speaks, and it causes Shouto to look up at him once again. The light of the fire catches a glistening streak down his cheek and it takes everything in Shouto not to reach out and wipe it away. Even after everything he's been through, he doesn't think he's ever felt something as painful as this—looking at Katsuki like this.

When Shouto doesn't immediately respond, Katsuki flicks his eyes up and they finally look at each other. All Shouto does is nod. 

Katsuki’s sharp features twist up and he looks away again. His response comes out barely a whisper.

"Fine."

The rest of the day feels like a dream. Shouto spends most of it preparing for the upcoming journey, which luckily keeps him preoccupied enough to keep his head on straight. After waking up late and then having the conversation with Katsuki, he decides it would be best to rest up as much as he can tonight and get an early start in the morning. 

At some point, Mina and Kirishima come back home and Shouto pulls them aside to let them know he'll be leaving for a bit. But of course they take it much better than Katsuki. They even seemed excited for him. And Shouto wore his best smile for them in return. 

After that, they made sure he had everything he needed for the trip, and then some. It got to the point where Shouto was concerned he'd be able to carry it all. But he was grateful nonetheless. It was actually nice to have someone care for him like that.

Katsuki wasn't around much the rest of the day. He'd left the house after their argument and didn't come back until dinner time. But Shouto was okay with that. He needed the space. He knows if Katsuki stayed around, it would have only made it that much harder.

"Mmm. That was delicious!" Mina exclaims as she sinks back heavily in her chair, patting her belly.

"As always," Kirishima adds as he starts to gather up everyone's dishes. Shouto stands up to help him but Katsuki gets in front of him.

"Sit. You need your rest." Katsuki says to him, emphasizing the last word a little too harshly for it to be genuine concern. But Shouto sits back down anyway, not willing to start some petty argument in front of the other two.

"Oh, by the way. Me and Ei are gonna spend the night at Kyouka's tonight. She's having a little birthday thing for Momo," Mina says from her scrunched up position. "Plus it'll give you two some alone time on your last night. Wink wink." 

She actually says the words instead of making the gesture and Kirishima groans from the kitchen. "You don't have to specify that for them, ya know."

Katsuki chimes in from the kitchen. "It's fine. Princess here needs his beauty sleep, anyways."

Shouto shoots Katsuki a glare from across the counter that luckily, no one else saw. But besides that, he ignores Katsuki's remark.

"Tell Momo I said happy birthday, and that I'm sorry I couldn't make it," Shouto says to Mina.

She nods and finally stands up, stretching her arms over her head. "Well, I'm ready to go whenever, babe."

"Alright," Kirishima replies before turning back towards Shouto. "You're probably going to be gone before we get back in the morning, huh."

Shouto nods.

"Oh shoot. That's right," Mina adds, her tone suddenly lacking its usual bounciness. She walks up to him and wraps her arms around him. "I hope you have a safe trip! Don't be gone too long, okay?"

Shouto returns her hug. "I won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

She nods against his chest before letting him go, only to be replaced by Kirishima. The larger man easily wraps Shouto up and suddenly he feels so much smaller. But it's nice.

"We'll be here when you get back," Kirishima says before cutting the hug short, then pats his back heavily. "Don't go dying out there, alight?"

"I'll try not to," Shouto responds with a chuckle. 

"We'll see you tomorrow, Bakugou!" Mina yells from the doorway, waving at him. Then they both walk out of the little townhouse, shutting the door behind them.

And they are left alone.

"If you told them the truth, they wouldn't be so fucking chipper about this," Katsuki mutters from the kitchen, not leaving any time for an awkward silence to develop.

Shouto turns to glance at him before focusing all of his attention on a frayed thread hanging from his pants. "Probably not."

"They think it's weird that I'm not coming."

"I know." Shouto responds quietly, still toying with his pants. 

He hears Katsuki sigh after a few moments of nothing. 

"You should turn in early," he says as he pushes himself off of the counter he was leaning against. He then disappears down the hall into the bedroom before returning with a towel. He hands it to Shouto. "Could be the last one you'll have for a while."

Shouto stares at the towel a moment before accepting it. "Yeah. Thanks."

Katsuki turns to the couch and plops down on it without saying anything else, and Shouto blinks at him a couple times before getting up and heading down the hall to the bathroom. 

He sets the towel down on the sink and glances up into the mirror. It was an old, scratched up thing that was beginning to rust in the corners, but it still worked well enough for him to study the face looking back.

It's funny how much his appearance has changed since coming here. His face looks fuller and his skin healthier. His hair is longer now too, reaching just past his ears. Katsuki had made an off-hand comment once before about how he liked it a bit longer, so Shouto kept it that way. He could probably pull it back with a hair tie now if he really wanted to, which actually isn't a bad idea with the upcoming hollows he's bound to run into. He looks through the drawers, finding one of Mina's hair ties and slipping it on his wrist. 

The shower feels amazing. Maybe not as good as his very first one here, but still amazing. He stands under the hot water for a long time until he starts to feel guilty about using it all up, which then he finishes quickly and steps out to dry off.

As he does all of this, Shouto tries to keep his mind busy. He tries not to think too much about how this will probably be his last night of decent sleep for the next few weeks (or longer). Or about how he's supposed to just walk back into his old home like it's nothing. 

Or about how on earth he's supposed to just leave Katsuki behind to do all of this.

The thought tears up his stomach. He doesn't want to leave him. Not at all. In fact, it's the very last thing on this earth that he wants to do. They've been together almost nonstop for so long now, Shouto isn't even sure what it will be like to be alone again. And it scares him. And the possibility of Katsuki not being here when he gets back is fucking terrifying. 

It's something that has been eating away at him all day. Katsuki never stays in Musutafu. Kirishima told him so. The only reason he stayed this long this time was for Shouto. But once Shouto leaves, and there's nothing keeping him here…

What if he doesn't wait for him? What if he runs off and doesn't come back for years? Like all the other times…

Shouto squeezes his eyes shut as he rustles the towel over his head, mixing up the red and white. He can't keep thinking about the what-ifs. It'll make him not want to go. 

He steps out of the warm, steamy air of the bathroom and into the hallway. As he enters the bedroom, a lump on the bed catches his attention.

"... Katsuki?" He whispers into the dark room, only getting a noise similar to a grunt in response.

As Shouto's eyes adjust to the dim light from the window, he can see Katsuki in bed, under the covers, and facing away from him. But something close to relief settles in Shouto’s chest at the sight. After their conversation earlier, a small part of him was worried he may have to spend his last night in bed alone. But Katsuki being here now stomps out that fear. 

Shouto stares for a moment, briefly considering putting some type of sleep-wear on, but instead he just drops the towel that was hung around his hips and climbs naked under the covers. 

His body is still warm from the shower, and it quickly heats up the blankets enveloping him. Sighing, he closes his eyes and tries his very best to remember this comfort. It'll be by far the best thing he'll have for a long, long time. 

Katsuki doesn't move. He doesn't say anything. He just continues to lay there, facing the wall. But Shouto knows he's very much awake. It's okay, though. He doesn't want to talk either. There's nothing left to say anyways. They would just go around and around the same circles they did earlier, and Shouto doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to spend his last night arguing. 

Instead, he rolls over and closes the distance between them, pressing his chest to Katsuki's back and wrapping an arm over his waist. Katsuki's scent is all around him, and it's another thing he tries to commit to memory. That spicy scent with something almost sweet hidden in the undertones. It's a unique smell, and so very him. He nuzzles his face into the pillow just to get more of it.

Katsuki shuffles slightly, as if he doesn't want Shouto to know he did it. But he presses back into him and Shouto wraps his arm tighter, pulling him in even further. Still, neither of them say anything. But they don't need to. Their closeness right now speaks volumes for the both of them.

And that closeness feels so good. It melts away everything Shouto is afraid of, while still keeping him very much grounded. This world isn't make-believe. It's real. It's so real. He's going back home. 

He's going to see his father again.

But he's a different person now. He's not the same as he was six years ago. Hell, he's not even the same as he was one year ago. And the only way he's going to survive seeing his father again is if he actually believes that. 

Slowly, as if he's worried he'll scare him off, Shouto picks his head up off the pillow and places a kiss on the top of Katsuki’s shoulder. Again and again, he leaves a trail of feather-light kisses along his shoulder and up the back of his neck until he can feel Katsuki’s body relax into him. As he does this, Shouto runs his fingers up and down his thigh, feeling the powerful muscle underneath his fingertips. Eventually, his hand lands on his hip, rubbing small circles over the soft skin there, then feeling the rough outline of his scar with his thumb. Katsuki shudders and lets out a breathy sigh. 

But Shouto could hear something more behind that sigh. A want. He takes the initiative, lowering his hand and tracing the waistband of his boxers. Katsuki sucks in a breath as Shouto's wrist accidentally bumps against his now obviously growing erection and Shouto pauses a moment, surprised at how much a few simple touches affected him. But it helps him gain all the confidence he needs. 

He dips his hand beneath the waistband, running his long fingers over Katsuki's cock, feeling it twitch to life even faster. Katsuki turns his head into the pillow, muffling the sound he just let out. But the noise only spurs Shouto on. He wraps his hand fully around him, squeezing it and pulling another hiss out of Katsuki. Fuck, he could listen to his noises all night long. Something else to remember.

Shouto works his cock slowly, lazily, all while ghosting his lip along Katsuki’s shoulder. But Katsuki doesn't squirm or tense up under his touch. He doesn't buck his hips or urge Shouto to quicken his pace. He just stays relaxed, as if Shouto's movements are pulling all the tension from his bones—giving him peace.

They continue this for a while, and Shouto is more than happy to do so. He could stay like this forever. And a part of him really wishes he could. 

Their bodies begin to roll into each other rhythmically, like waves crashing on a beach. His hand, their hips, their breaths all sync up. Shouto nibbles Katsuki’s shoulder, leaving light teeth marks behind, and Katsuki groans. 

His confidence completely takes over then. He pulls his hand away and pushes Katsuki onto his back before climbing on top of him, swinging a leg on each side, straddling his hips. He remembers then how naked he is as the cold air hits his skin. But he can't find it in him to care. 

With his eyes fully adjusted now, he can see the look on Katsuki's face—something between surprise and full-blown arousal. It's a good look, and Shouto feels a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth before leaning down and planting his lips on Katsuki’s. 

The kiss deepens quickly and Shouto presses himself into Katsuki, running his hands through his hair and holding Katsuki in place, as if he's worried he's going to run away. It's a stupid thing to worry about, though. As if he's reassuring him, Katsuki picks his head up off the pillow just to get impossibly closer. He runs his hands down Shouto's back until they come to rest on his hips. But Shouto wants more. He needs more. 

He needs to remember this night. 

He grinds back on Katsuki, feeling his still-clothed cock drag along his backside and Shouto groans. But it's mainly in frustration. Quickly, he reaches back and pulls Katsuki’s underwear down just enough to free him before repeating the motion, causing Katsuki's cock to slot right along his most sensitive skin. 

Shouto pauses. 

He waits—waits for the panic, for the memories, for something to happen. 

But nothing does.

Katsuki stays incredibly still underneath him, looking up at him with a strange expression. But Shouto doesn't wait for him to say anything. Instead, he grinds his hips back again and watches that expression melt away as Katsuki’s mouth falls open and his eyes flutter shut. 

He goes to do it once more but Katsuki grips his hips tightly, holding him still. His eyes open again, pinning Shouto with his sharp gaze. 

"What are you doing?" Katsuki’s voice comes out breathy, yet still demanding. And honestly, Shouto isn't really sure how to answer.

"I want…I want to try…" he struggles to get out. 

Katsuki looks at him, and his expression softens slightly before becoming sharp again.

"You're just saying that. Because you're leaving."

Shouto quickly shakes his head. 

He's sure of this—so much so that it surprises him. He wants Katsuki so bad it fucking hurts. And the thought of leaving here without ever being with him—without knowing what it's like, what Katsuki feels like—he doesn't want to think about it. And the fact that the world they live in presents quite a real possibility he may never have the chance to again…

Shouto cuts off that thought quickly.

He swallows, but continues to hold Katsuki’s gaze, waiting for him to say something.

"Don't just–"

"Katsuki," he interrupts sternly before Katsuki can try to talk him out of it.

He pauses to study Shouto, red eyes narrowed as they jump in between his own before finally relaxing.

"You sure?"

Shouto simply nods his head.

"I need you to be positive."

"I am," Shouto whispers, curling his fingers into Katsuki’s chest. He hears the other man let out a slow breath.

"Well. If we're doing this, we're doing it right," Katsuki says before pulling a maneuver Shouto has seen many times during their sparring sessions. He sits up and hooks an arm under Shouto's leg, tossing him on his back while Katsuki ends up on top, his lopsided smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

Leaning forward, he speaks directly into Shouto's ear, his voice pouring out of him, low and thick like honey. 

"I'm going to make this the best night of your goddamn life."

A full body shiver rips its way through Shouto and he reflexively bucks up into Katsuki just before their mouths come together again. 

But Katsuki takes full control of the kiss, purposely slowing everything down, suspending Shouto in the moment. The way he holds him, caresses him. It's a strange mix of something demanding yet gentle. Shouto wants to be annoyed by the change in pace, but Katsuki crowds his senses so overwhelmingly that there's nothing else he could possibly think about.

Just Katsuki.

There's a warmth settled deep within his chest—something very foreign yet familiar at the same time. It's strange but it isn't…bad. Just. Something he's not used to, he supposes.

Katsuki regretfully breaks the kiss and shifts lower in the bed, regaining Shouto's full attention. He finally settles in between Shouto’s legs, leaning back on his heels, yet still towering over top of him.

"I want you to listen to me. Okay?"

Shouto watches him a moment before nodding.

"Same deal as last time. Tell me to stop if it's too much."

He nods again but Katsuki gives him a skeptical look, pausing to see if Shouto wanted to say anything. But when he doesn't, Katsuki adjusts himself into a more comfortable position. 

"Okay. I want you to relax your muscles. Let out any tension, alright? Start with your toes." Katsuki leans backwards and lightly drags his fingers across the top of his right foot. 

It almost startles Shouto. He's not used to having someone touch him there, especially in this type of setting. And so…lovingly. But he does as he's instructed, flexing his toes once, twice before letting them relax. Then, Katsuki's fingers trace up the outside of his calf. Then towards the inside of his thigh, placing kisses along the way as he moves. 

"Now your legs."

Shouto follows his words, letting his knees fall to the sides.

"Your belly, your chest." His hand continues to mirror his words, tracing lightly along his skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind it. "Your shoulders. Your arms. Your hands."

He feels Katsuki's fingers briefly interlock with his own, before leaving and appearing again along his neck and cheek.

"Everything," he whispers into Shouto's ear. 

He lets his eyes fall shut, leaving himself fully open for Katsuki. Exposed. 

But…It's not scary. It feels right. Safe.

The bottle of oil clicks open, but he doesn't tense at the noise. He doesn't even open his eyes. He lays still, peaceful. His breathing is slow and steady, and he takes a moment to realize how extremely different this is from the first time they tried this. 

He feels Katsuki shift in the bed again, and Shouto waits patiently for what's to come next. But he doesn't have to wait long. Katsuki licks a warm, wet trail up his cock from base to tip, and Shouto throws his head back into the pillow, gasping. 

He doesn't think he'll ever get used to this. And he doesn't want to. Having Katsuki here with him, like this. Having Katsuki want him like this. Shouto still doesn't know what on earth he ever did to deserve it. 

Katsuki rolls his tongue lazily around his cock and Shouto's hand finds its way into his hair. But he doesn't grip or pull. He just threads his fingers through the blonde spikes, memorizing how soft they are against his calloused hand. Katsuki makes a pleased sound from around him. 

He continues this for a while, and Shouto could practically visualize all the stress and tension leaving him. It's the most relaxed he's felt in years. Perhaps ever. He almost thinks he could fall asleep like this if it wasn't for how painfully aroused he is. 

But eventually, Katsuki pulls off of him, resting his head on Shouto's thigh.

"Can I touch you?" He asks, his lips brushing Shouto's skin as he speaks. 

In the foggy landscape that is the state of Shouto's mind, he doesn't really understand the question. In fact he's a bit confused by it. Katsuki's been touching him this whole time, hasn't he? 

But he knows the answer has to be yes, no matter what. He doesn't want Katsuki to stop any of this. 

Shouto opens his eyes briefly to glance down at him and when they make eye contact, he nods his head.

Katsuki smirks before putting his mouth back to work and Shouto sighs, sinking further into the bed. But suddenly, something new. A finger, slick with the oil undoubtedly, finds its way to him, rubbing slow, sensual circles over his most sensitive area. 

Shouto sucks in a breath, and he almost instinctively snaps his legs shut. But he stops himself before he does so. It was only instinct. Not pain. Or fear. None of those feelings existed right now and he was absolutely sure of that.

During this, Katsuki's movements never stutter, and Shouto forces himself to relax again—to lean into those sensations and return to the state of ease he'd just been in. 

Surprisingly, it happens quicker than he expected. All of Shouto's attention goes to that finger. That one finger massaging him—working him slowly, methodically. He realizes then how skilled Katsuki actually is at this. Plus he has the patience of a fucking saint. Something Shouto is lacking all of a sudden. 

He pushes down against the finger, and the pressure it gives off feels incredible. He wants to do it again, but Katsuki takes his mouth away, pulling Shouto's attention along with it.

"Feeling good?" Katsuki mutters after letting out an amused breath. 

Shouto almost doesn't answer until he realizes Katsuki is actually waiting for one. Or some type of reassurance that it's okay to continue. So he gives his answer, speaking for the first time in what felt like forever. 

"Amazing…" 

He can feel Katsuki’s smirk against his thigh. "Well I promise it's about to get so much better, princess."

The second after he says that, he slips the finger inside and Shouto throws his head back, letting out the most obscene noise he's ever heard himself make. 

It's never felt this good. Never. Not even close. Shouto didn't even think one finger could affect him this much. But he supposes he's never really had someone take their time on him. Not like this. 

Katsuki leaves his mouth off of him for the time being and Shouto is actually thankful for that. The mixed sensations would be too much to handle. He can only focus on so much at once in this state.

Once Katsuki is satisfied with the amount of time spent, he adds another finger. 

And Shouto whines. 

He lets his head fall to the side, mouth parted as Katsuki works him open. It's just as slow as every other thing Katsuki did. Every movement he made had purpose, a meaning behind it, and Shouto very much appreciated it. 

"Fuck… I. Please. Katsu…ki." 

He sounds ridiculously desperate, but he doesn't have a single cell in his body that could give a shit.

"I want… need. Ah…"

"Not yet." The lucidity in Katsuki's voice is strikingly obvious compared to Shouto's. 

Shouto whines again. "Please… I'm ready. I promise…" 

Shouto reaches his hand down to grab Katsuki’s wrist, stopping his fingers from continuing. 

Katsuki hesitates for the first time that night, but eventually withdraws his fingers, and Shouto's never felt so empty in his life. 

"Okay," Katsuki finally says. But his tone was different. Almost like he was preparing himself for this as much as he was Shouto. 

He sits up straight, letting the cold air in between them and Shouto hears the click of the bottle again. He lets his head rest back against the pillow again and closes his eyes, giving Katsuki time to get himself ready.

He's content. More than content, obviously. So much more. But for some reason, at this moment, that's the word that came to his mind. Content. 

Finally, he feels Katsuki settle back in, and that's when his heart rate begins to pick up. The head of Katsuki’s cock brushes against his opening, but a hand on his cheek pulls his attention away from it. Shouto opens his eyes to see Katsuki's face close to his, studying him. 

Then suddenly, he kisses him, and at the same time Shouto feels him push inside.

His mouth drops open against Katsuki’s as he's stretched more and more. It's almost torturous how slowly Katsuki moves. It feels like forever until he finally gets all the way in, and once he does, Shouto lets out the breath he'd been holding.

It stings a bit, but it's nothing compared to how bad it used to–

Shouto stops himself.

He looks up at Katsuki, who's brows are pinched together in a look of concentration. His eyes are closed and he drops his forehead against Shouto's. And for a long time they stay like that, breathing heavily against each other. 

Then out of nowhere, it hits him. How overwhelming this must be for Katsuki, too. 

Since Izuku…

A wall of emotions smacks Shouto at once. He feels a wetness collect in the corner of his eyes at the thought of Izuku—of how alone Katsuki must've felt, for so long.

A hiccup escapes his throat and Katsuki quickly pulls out, looking down at Shouto.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Is it too much?"

The look of worry on his face tears Shouto apart and he quickly reassures him without letting him go.

"No. No it's not. I promise… it's just." Shouto looks up at him. "Do you… want this?"

Katsuki narrows his eyes at him. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"It's just that… I never asked if you… ever since…" 

Shouto doesn't know how to say it so he trails off, but a look of understanding crosses Katsuki nonetheless. 

"I told you not to compare yourself with him."

Shouto looks away, suddenly embarrassed and wishing he hadn't said anything. But Katsuki pulls him into another deep kiss. And then another. And another.

"Of course I want this." He says in between kisses. "I've wanted this for so fucking long, okay?"

Shouto pinches up his face.

"Okay?" Katsuki repeats.

"Okay."

Katsuki sighs, but places a quick kiss at the corner of Shouto's mouth. "Can I…?"

Shouto nods, and Katsuki doesn't hesitate before pushing back in, this time a bit faster than the first, and Shouto feels his breath leave him. It feels so incredible .  

So fucking incredible.

Like nothing he's ever felt before.

Katsuki starts a slow, steady rhythm with his hips, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in. It drives Shouto mad, and when he can't handle it anymore, he begins to move his own hips to meet Katsuki’s movements, trying to get more of this feeling.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Katsuki mutters against Shouto's skin before biting down on the sensitive area of his neck.

Shouto whines and throws his arms around Katsuki, gripping his back and feeling the tight muscles working hard with his movements. Shouto knows he's leaving marks with his nails, but he can't help it. He needs more, more, more. 

Then Katsuki shifts slightly, changing the angle of his hips, and Shouto's vision goes white. A spark of pleasure explodes out from his core, and Shouto isn't even sure what type of noise he made when he felt it. Katsuki must have taken note of that reaction though, because every time he moved after that, he hit the same spot deep within him. 

Shouto feels like he's losing himself to the pleasure. His body is coiled up so tightly around Katsuki, like he could snap at any second. The world around them is completely muted. Nonexistent, except for the little breaths leaving Katsuki. But soon Shouto couldn't even hear those anymore. 

Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing besides this singular moment in time. Just the two of them. They're the only two people in the entire universe.

It hits him suddenly. More powerful than anything he's ever experienced before. His body stutters and spasms and his voice leaves him. Warmth spreads out across his stomach and chest as another warmth spills out inside him, and he feels Katsuki’s sure, steady movements start to jerk and become erratic as he holds Shouto tight. 

It's all so overwhelming.

Shouto can't control it. He could feel the walls he's spent years building up in his mind begin to crumble away. Emotions he hasn't allowed himself to feel for a very, very long time work their way out of him for the first time, and it's so much. 

He's crying.

Katsuki doesn't pull away. If anything, he only gets closer somehow, wrapping his arms around Shouto and pulling him flush against his chest. They lay there, Katsuki softening inside him. But he lets him cry, and Shouto is so thankful for that. The tears that leave him almost feel as good as what they just finished doing.

It takes a while for Shouto’s body to settle down, but eventually he feels his muscles relax, he feels the tears slow and he's able to take normal breaths again. Katsuki waits a moment longer, making sure Shouto is okay before finally pulling away. 

He cleans them up quickly with his discarded underwear before moving onto his side next to Shouto. Shouto rolls into him and he feels Katsuki wrap his arms around him. 

He's never felt so safe—so cared for. Neither of them speak and eventually Shouto's world starts to fade around him as the comfort of everything lulls him to sleep.

Chapter Text

One of the hardest things Shouto's ever had to do is get out of bed that morning. It's still dark out and the air in the bedroom is absolutely frigid. He wants nothing but to crawl back under the covers, close to the warm body that's waiting there for him. But he knows he can't afford the risk of falling back asleep. Instead, he sits at the edge of the bed a moment, eyes half-lidded as he takes slow, deep breaths. 

He glances around the room, taking in all the little details one last time as best he can in the darkness before finally turning around to find Katsuki. He looks peaceful, still asleep, almost completely under the covers except for the top half of his head. The crease between his eyebrows is completely smoothed away, and a pang of guilt punches Shouto's chest. He'll wake him up eventually, but not yet. He'll let him sleep a bit longer.

Finally Shouto stands, the bones in his knees creaking with the motion. Thankfully, he already had his clothes laid out for him the night before, so he wastes no time beginning the arduous task of putting on layer after layer, not only for warmth, but for the simple fact that he just didn't have enough room for everything in his bag—thanks to Mina and Kirishima. Once he's finally fully dressed, he heads out to the living room and for a moment debates starting up the fire, but decides against it. Any form of comfort like that could halt his momentum right now. And it's not like he'll be here much longer, anyways. 

The house is deathly quiet, and he can tell the world outside is much the same. The city is still asleep. No clanging of hammers or lively voices carrying on about this or that. It's so very different from how he has come to think of this place. But it's all very fitting. It suits the mood too well, he thinks. Shouto tries not to dwell. He finds his belongings settled neatly in the corner of the room, all packed up and ready to go. But he decides to go through it once more, if only to buy just a few more minutes of this peace. 

He must be crazy, right? For actually choosing to leave this place. For choosing to leave Katsuki behind after everything he went through with Izuku. For choosing to abandon the only happiness he's ever known himself. Just to go back to where his nightmare began all those years ago. There must be something wrong with him. 

No shit. Shouto lets out a humorless laugh. 

But maybe there's more to it. Maybe it's more than just Touya. Maybe he's so fucked up now that true happiness scares him. Like he doesn't deserve it. Like he doesn't know how to live without the constant fear of his father looming over him. It's been exhausting running from him all these years. Perhaps returning home will give him a different sense of relief. Maybe he can finally, truly rest. 

"No way you're leaving without saying goodbye."

The voice breaks him out of his thoughts and Shouto straightens up to find Katsuki in the dark hallway, arms crossed and a scowl on his face that isn't quite as threatening as normal. 

Shouto keeps his voice low and even. "I was going to wake you up before I left. Figured you could sleep a bit longer while I finished getting ready."

Katsuki makes a dismissive noise before fully stepping into the living room, leaning back on one of the stools at the bar to observe Shouto from a distance in the dim light.

Shouto lets his eyes trail over Katsuki, from the unruly blonde mess of hair that he can almost still feel between his fingers, to the sharp angles of his face that smooth out on the rare occasion Katsuki lets his guard down. His gaze then falls to his shoulders and the powerful muscles there, sculpted by years and years of smashing hollows skulls in. And that fucking black tank top that's been a blessing to this world. He wants to reach out and hold him—run his fingers all over him, kiss him until he's breathless, and never let go of him again. But somehow that all seems too intimate now. Like he gave up that right the moment he decided to leave. So instead, Shouto returns to the task of putting everything back as neatly as possible into his backpack. 

He pulls the zipper, watching it strain over all of its contents before facing Katsuki once more. A moment of silence goes by between them before Katsuki speaks again. 

"You're really doing this?"

Shouto simply nods.

The crease between Katsuki's brows is back now. It looks so natural on him, but Shouto hates that he's the reason for it's return. He wishes he could make it go away again. He wishes they could go back to how they were last night. It's funny how something that happened only hours before can feel like a lifetime ago. 

Silence extends on between them and Shouto shuffles his feet awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. He's never done this. He's never had to say goodbye.

"I…" Shouto starts. He fumbles around with the words in his head. "I just wanted to say–"

"Stop." Katsuki gets up and heads over to pick up his bag, pushing it into Shouto's chest. "You're going to waste daylight if you keep stalling." 

Shouto looks down at the backpack briefly before taking it from him and swinging it over his shoulders. "I'm not stalling."

"Sure." Katsuki says, unconvinced, before jabbing a finger in his belly. "You got a little soft here. Those hollows have a nice meal waiting for them."

Shouto slaps his hand away but he can't fight the playful smile that tugs at his mouth. "Speak for yourself."

Katsuki huffs and turns back around, reclaiming his position against the stool. And once again they're back in the consuming silence. Shouto swallows around the lump forming in his throat, and begins awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. It finally feels like his time here is finite, and the realization causes his chest to ache. 

"Can you–" His voice comes out thick so he clears his throat before trying again. "Can you promise me you'll be here when I come back?" 

It's a selfish question and he knows it. But he needs to ask it.

Katsuki scoffs and looks away. "You know I can't promise that…" he says quietly. "Just like you can't promise you'll even come back."

Shouto considers Katsuki's words before allowing them to sting too badly. He supposes it's true. Promises like that fall short far too often in a world like this.

He lets out a small laugh and runs his hand through his hair. "I guess you're right. That was a stupid question."

"Shouto." The tone of his voice almost startles him. It's stern, causing Shouto to flinch. "You're wasting time."

Ah. Right. Katsuki's supposed to be pissed at him. At least this feels more natural now. But it doesn't stop the way his eyes begin to sting. It would've been nice to not leave things like this.

He supposes he doesn't deserve that, though. 

"You're right." 

Shouto steels himself and turns to grab the last of his belongings—his katana—and fastens it on his backpack before turning towards the front door. Each step feels like climbing a mountain, and he stops just before he gets to it, sparing one last glance towards Katsuki, his vision now blurred around the edges.

He can do this.

Simple. Keep it simple.  

"Thank you. For everything."

Shouto then opens the door and steps out before Katsuki has a chance to say anything. 

=================

He isn't certain if this winter is colder than previous ones, or if his frame of reference is just off after spending so much time indoors recently, but he can't remember the last time he'd been so uncomfortable traveling. Any exposed skin burned as the air touched it, and he was constantly trying to minimize the potential damage—pulling his scarf up over his face, making sure his gloves and boots were secure. His bones ached under the weight of his backpack and his throat throbbed as it continuously pulled the below-freezing air into his body. But all of this just served as a distraction. And a pretty fucking good one at that. 

Luckily new snow hasn't fallen in days, but temperatures haven't allowed for any of the previous snow to melt, so Shouto still found himself pushing through it, and worse, leaving a trail behind. But at this point he isn't worried about anyone tracking him. The worst would be another solo, but nobody is as crazy as he is to be this far north this time of year. 

Briefly, he thought about attempting to find Inasa's trail. He's only a day behind them, and a group like that would be easy enough to catch up to if he really wanted. But for some reason, traveling alone seemed preferable. So he took his time, opting for a less-traveled route. If he remembers correctly, the overall distance of this route is considerably less, but the terrain can be treacherous in places. 

He realizes he's making good time. It's probably close to noon by now, and he's been traveling for almost seven hours without stopping. If he can keep this pace, he could potentially reach his destination in a little under a week. 

But his stomach interrupts his thoughts. This spot will have to make due for a quick lunch break. 

Shouto finds a fallen tree to sit on before swinging his backpack off and pulling it into his lap. A sigh escapes him as he enjoys the moment of reprieve, rolling his shoulders a few times to work out any kinks. He then unzips the bag and begins rummaging through it. An old granola bar will be enough for now.  

He sits and eats, and glances at the barren wasteland around him. It's quiet. No birds or animals around. The only thing that can be heard is the crunching of the many-years-old granola between his teeth. 

He wishes it felt more peaceful than it actually does. 

Would it have felt more peaceful with Katsuki here?

He lets his mind wander for the first time since he left the gates of Musutafu. What's Katsuki doing right now? Or Mina? Or Kirishima? Or Momo? Are their lives any different? Do they even care that he's gone?

As he swallows the last bit of granola, Shouto lets out a breath of air, watching the cloud of water vapor leave his mouth before disappearing somewhere in front of him. He sounds crazy thinking those thoughts. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours and he's already playing the pity card with himself. He was the one who chose to leave. He didn't have to. Nobody made him. He could've ignored what Inasa told him and stayed in Musutafu with Katsuki, living his little fairytale life. 

He sighs. Nothing is stopping him from turning back right now, either.

Except there is something stopping him. He just doesn't know how to put a name to it. He could say it's because he needs closure with Touya. That's a simple way to phrase it—to get this feeling to make sense in his head. But there's more to it. Something is drawing him back home. 

The more he thinks about it, the more jumbled up his brain gets. He's too tired to try to deconstruct it. So he finally stands up and continues on with this journey. 

It takes two days for Shouto to come across his first hollow. 

It stands motionless in front of an old farmhouse, arms hanging stiffly and its head tilted awkwardly to the side. The thing is looking right at him, but doesn't seem to register Shouto's arrival. 

Slowly he walks up to it, sword drawn, ready for it to lunge at him at any moment. But as he gets within twenty feet of it, Shouto realizes the thing is frozen solid. He lets his shoulders relax some as he takes a few steps further, confirming this theory. Its dead skin looks like wax in the dim, early evening light surrounding them. Chunks of icicles hang from its chin and other parts of its body and leftover clothing. Its eyes remain open, but unseeing as a thin layer of ice coats the dead tissue.

Shouto considers killing it—disrupting communications from the brainstem and eliminating the potential for a future threat once the weather warms. But he decides against it. Poking his sword into frozen objects sounds like a quick way to dull the blade. So he simply turns on his heel and continues on.

More days pass. He's about halfway by now, and Shouto is beginning to feel proud for how well he’s been holding himself together—for the most part. There was a moment a few nights ago when he almost had a complete breakdown at the taste of Katsuki’s leftovers that Mina had packed up for him. He knew the food was in there, but had been avoiding it for just that reason. Eventually, he was able to work his way through it, and even chuckled about it the next morning. 

But it seems that was only the first domino. 

Slowly, he's been noticing parts of himself beginning to slip little by little. His temper is shorter now, though he's almost successfully convinced himself it's from the cold and lack of sleep. 

He doesn't spare any hollows anymore, despite how frozen they are. 

Just keep his mind to the task. One foot in front of the other. Again and again and again and again.

Just keep going.

Shouto wakes the next morning with a gun to his face.

Katsuki.

He knows how ridiculous it is, but it's still the first thought that comes to his mind. But even in his disoriented, sleep-ridden state, he knows that's impossible. Katsuki isn't here. Shouto quickly blinks the sleep from his eyes, his heart rate picking up with each millisecond that ticks by. 

"Get up." The unknown man's voice is piercing in the little shack that Shouto took refuge in for the night. It grows even louder after Shouto doesn't react. "Get the fuck up."

It's a solo. One of the last things he expected to run into in the dead of winter this far north.  

"Okay. Let's just relax." Shouto raises his hands, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. Brief panic washes over him as he tries to remember where he left his backpack the night before until he realizes he slept with it on. Thank goodness for his over-thinking for once. There's no way this man could've looted him without waking him.

The guy looks as if he's been on the road for a while. Years, even. Dirt is caked into the creases of his face, and his hair pokes out of his wool hat in long, matted strings. He also appears like he hasn't had a proper meal in ages. The gun pointed at Shouto's face has been through equal hardships it seems and Shouto isn't sure if it would even fire properly anymore. But he's not exactly willing to take that chance. 

"I have enough food to spare," Shouto continues. "We can both walk away from this unharmed."

He knows it isn't wise to mention the amount of food he has, but with the way this guy looks, he thought perhaps there's a small chance he would take him up on the offer. But the man completely ignores him, crowding the gun further into Shouto's space. 

"Shut the fuck up and hand over the bag."

He quickly realizes this guy won't listen to reason. A scowl creeps up Shouto's face as he thinks through his options. He could reach back and grab for his sword, but there's no way he'd be fast enough to avoid getting shot. Of course the man could be bluffing as well. How likely is it that there's any bullets in that gun? But in the end he decides the odds aren't worth the gamble. His best option is to just hand the bag over, if anything just to buy him more time to come up with a better plan. So he leans forward, taking the straps off his shoulders and tossing the bag to the ground in between them, his katana still strapped to the top of it.

"Here."

The man holds Shouto at gunpoint a few seconds longer before instantly dropping to the ground to begin rummaging through the bag. He's desperate. But that desperation made him stupid. Shouto acts fast on his mistake, lunging forward, kicking the gun out of the man's hand and grabbing his sword in one single motion. The man yelps but freezes at the sight of the sharp metal now inches from his throat.

Shouto keeps his voice steady. "I would not like to hurt you. I offered you food, and that offer still stands only if you agree to leave immediately after."

The man slowly sits back, glaring up at Shouto with pure malice. 

"You need to learn something, kid. Sharing doesn't get you anywhere in this world." The man sneers before diving for his gun. 

Shouto hesitates only for a second, but it gives the man just enough time to grab the pistol and swing it around, firing off a round that catches Shouto in the forearm. It's at that moment he understands that he cannot let this man live. 

Thanks to the recent sparring sessions between him and Katsuki, he hasn't lost much of his agility and is able to side step out of the man's line of sight just before he fires off another round, which appears to be his last one. The man growls and discards the pistol before pulling a rather large hunting knife out of his waistband. 

It just became an easy win for Shouto.

Rage and frustration fuel the man's next move as he charges towards Shouto, aiming the knife high, looking to slash his throat. Shouto drops down underneath the swinging blade as he plunges his own straight into the man's gut.

Exhaustion. 

The familiar feeling begins to creep in. But Shouto's no stranger to it. Hell, he thrived in this feeling for years. 

His arm throbs underneath the bandage Mina had packed for him and he silently curses that solo for making the end of his journey that much more annoying. The terrain around him has become increasingly more difficult to traverse and with that, shelter has only become harder to find. He's certain he'd only gotten a couple hours of sleep the night before as a strategically placed rock was the best option he could find for a bed. 

He's only a couple days out now and that's the one thing keeping him going. Just two more days. A nauseating pressure grows in his chest the more he thinks about it, so he tries not to. But there's not much else he can let his mind settle on. 

What does his little hometown even look like now? A lot can change in six years. Buildings can be built, torn down, and rebuilt within that timespan. Shouto already knows about their flourishing research facility. Is it possible they are close to discovering a cure? Closer than Momo and her team? Is it possible they already have a cure? Shouto scoffs. He wouldn't put it past his father to keep something like that a secret for his own gains. 

What is Touya doing right now? 

The whole trip Shouto has been trying to come up with a logical explanation for his return. Something, anything, that makes sense. If it wasn't for Inasa's eyewitness account, Shouto would've believed one of Enji's goons dragged him back against his will, kicking and screaming—or worse. But it sounds like he just walked right in through the front gate. Much like what Shouto is about to do himself. 

Does Touya know something? Does he have something planned? Shouto was never able to find out if he arrived alone or with anyone else. Maybe he's planning to overthrow Enji and take over the city himself. Their father isn't that stupid though. He would see right through Touya's plans. 

But Touya was always better than Shouto at keeping secrets from their father. If it was between the two of them, Touya would be the one who could finally put an end to Enji's reign. And Shouto would do everything in his power to back his brother up. 

At least he hopes that's what he would do. But there's an ugly, gnawing thought deep in his gut—a thought that he will inevitably fold under his father's overwhelming presence. That he in fact hasn't grown stronger all these years apart from him, and it's that thought alone that terrifies him more than anything. The thought that Shouto will give in to his father’s will once again. That all of this would've been for nothing.

That's why Katsuki couldn't come. He would be so disappointed.

Nightfall comes sooner than Shouto expected that evening. He must've lost track of time with the heavy overcast. 

Luckily, after only searching another twenty minutes or so, he finds a little hut that appears to be an old ski lodge of sorts nestled in an alcove of trees. He's surprised he's even able to spot it. Although it lacked a front door, the shack is more than enough to provide shelter for the night. Though he could probably get another hour—or even two—of travel time in before he truly needs to find a place, Shouto decides to turn in early for the night. Blame it on the exhaustion, or maybe even a hint of apprehension, but the smallest hope of an actual decent night's sleep is too much for him to pass up.

After doing a half-assed walkthrough of the place, Shouto starts a fire in the middle of what would be the lodge’s lobby, allowing warmth and orange light to flood the tiny space. That's when he notices a frozen hollow sitting in the corner of the room, wedged up against a bookshelf that houses a variety of old skiing pamphlets. The dead eyes slowly track his movements—the only thing that still works in these ungodly temperatures. Shouto watches it, unbothered. Either he's too tired to do anything about it, or some part of him enjoys the company. But as the fire melts the snow on his coat, the creature’s jaw begins to snap to life. Regrettably, Shouto gets up and puts his sword through its skull before it could cause him any real trouble.

That's when he hears a noise outside. Then another. Rhythmic and growing distressingly closer.

Footsteps. In the snow. It's unmistakable. 

Acting fast, Shouto throws the old rug he was sitting on over the fire and plants his back on the wall right next to the open door, waiting. Closer and closer the sound gets and Shouto holds his breath, listening, until it's right outside the goddamn lodge.

"Fucking finally," a man's voice says as he steps into the hut.

It happens fast. Shouto's sword is to the man's neck in under a second, and it only takes another second before realization sets in. 

No. 

Why?

Why did he follow him?

Katsuki's hands shoot upwards in defense, showing no weapon. But Shouto doesn't lower his. It continues to hold steady in his own hand. 

"What are you doing here?" Shouto asks, still too surprised to put any real venom behind it.

Katsuki growls and finally shoves the sword away from his neck, the familiar scowl returning to his face. "Nice to see you too, asshole."

"No. Don't start that. Why the fuck are you here?" Shouto spits out, the anger now flowing freely through his veins.

Katsuki makes an obvious attempt to school his expression. Hostility probably wasn't the first emotion he was expecting upon his arrival. “Don't ask stupid questions. Honestly, I can't believe I even caught up to you. You must be more out of shape than I thought.”

Shouto doesn't laugh.

After realizing Shouto isn't exactly in the joking mood, Katsuki's tone shifts to match his. “Look, dickhead. I know you got to live your life however the fuck you wanted to before, but that's not how this works anymore. I'm not that easy to get rid of.”

Shouto forces his jaw to relax so he's not speaking directly through his teeth. “I asked you not to come.”

“No. You told me not to come. I don't like being told what to do.” Katsuki takes a few steps inside, glancing around the dark room. “Why'd you put the fire out?”

“I heard someone coming up on me.”

“Yeah. Great reaction time there.” He kneels down to pull the rug away and start the fire back up while Shouto continues to stare at him, not knowing exactly how to feel just yet. “It's a miracle you're still alive with those impeccable survival instincts.”

“Fuck you.”

Katsuki smirks, much to Shouto's annoyance. “I mean… it's a little cold right now but maybe once the fire gets—”

“Stop!” Shouto snaps, finally earning Katsuki's full attention. “This isn’t a fucking joke. Stop trying to be cute when you know I'm pissed off right now. You shouldn't be here, Katsuki.”

“Shouldn't... But I am.” 

Katsuki returns his attention to the fire as Shouto forces out an aggravated breath. He's acting like a child. “You're being absolutely infuriating.”

“What, you want me to fucking turn around?” Katsuki scoffs, “It's a little late for that.”

“Yeah. A little late for that,” Shouto repeats with more animosity while roughly running his fingers through his tangled hair. “Great. Good job. You got your fucking way. Just go ahead and make yourself comfortable then.”

Katsuki seemingly ignores the sarcasm and just continues to stoke the flames to a point where he's satisfied before sitting back on the cold wood underneath them. The renewed light in the small space allows Shouto to finally observe him clearly. He looks just about how Shouto feels—utterly drained. The journey up until now hasn't exactly been for the faint of heart. Not by a long shot. It's pretty impressive that Katsuki was able to catch up to him at all. The guy must be running on even less sleep than himself.

A minute goes by before Shouto sighs, letting his shoulders slump while simultaneously releasing some of the tension he'd been holding. It takes too much energy to argue, and right now that energy is too valuable to waste on something he knows is useless. Arguing with Katsuki is much like banging his head against a brick wall. Shouto lets himself fall to the floor, sitting directly across the fire from Katsuki. The warmth it emits is too soothing to ignore any longer. He pulls his gloves off and raises his calloused hands to the fire, enjoying the feeling of blood returning to his fingertips. 

“For the record, this isn't me getting my fucking way,” Katsuki says, interrupting the short-lived silence between the two of them. His voice is just loud enough to be heard over the crackling logs between them. “I never wanted you to go in the first place, remember?”

“I don't want to have this argument again, Katsuki.”

Their eyes meet overtop the bouncing flames, the crimson within Katsuki's glowing brighter than ever despite the dark spots that sleep deprivation so graciously left underneath them.

“Fine. Let's not then.”

“Fine.”

“Hey. You know what day it was today?” Katsuki asks, throwing one last log on the fire before pulling his bedroll out of his backpack.

Shouto hums in question, resting his head against the wall behind him and letting his eyes fall shut as sleep threatens to overtake him. 

“It's December 25th.”

Shouto briefly cracks open his one eye to glance at Katsuki before letting it fall shut again. It's Christmas. 

“Where's my present then?”

He hears Katsuki huff out a breath. “I'm your goddamn present.”

Shouto scoffs at that. “Please tell me you kept the receipt.”

“Wow. You're so fucking funny.”

“I know.” He can't help the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. There's a rustling sound as Katsuki climbs into his poor excuse for a bed before finally settling on his side, resting his head on the pillow he made with his arm before continuing the conversation. 

“Did you guys ever do anything for it growing up?”

Shouto picks his head up off the wall and looks off towards the corner of the room as he thinks about the question. “Christmas? A little bit. We would celebrate it up until my mom died. After that we kind of stopped.”

Katsuki's brows pull together in question. “She was the only one who celebrated?”

“She was the only one any of us cared to celebrate with. Plus, Touya left not too long after she died.” 

Memories bounce to the forefront of Shouto's mind. Pleasant ones with his mother handing out gifts to him and his siblings with a smile on her face, eagerly waiting for them to open them. The gifts were never anything amazing. Sometimes just items she found in the house that she thought were special or meant something to each of them. And they were almost never wrapped. Shouto remembers finding it odd when he first learned that gifts were supposed to be. 

“What about you?” Shouto glances back towards Katsuki who is staring intently at the fire. 

Katsuki grumbles. “Yeah. My parents would always get a bunch of families together and we'd all exchange gifts with each other. Mainly just for the kids though. And it was always stupid shit we would find around town or make ourselves.”

Shouto hums. “That sounds nice.”

“It was annoying as shit.”

Shouto lets the faintest smile ease onto his face at the thought. But it falls away not too long after as he realizes he doesn't know anything about Katsuki's parents. He's never mentioned them before and Shouto suddenly feels guilty about waiting so long to ask about them. 

“Your parents. Are they still in Musutafu?” Shouto realizes how stupid the question is after he asks it. Katsuki would've surely visited them before they left if they were, right? 

“Nah. They're not around anymore.” Katsuki's voice grows softer as he continues to stare into the slowly dimming flames. “My dad died during a patrol run when I was sixteen. My mom about a year after. She just got really sick one day and that was it.”

Shouto stares at him, brows pinched together in thought. It would've been nice to have been able to meet them. 

“I'm sorry…”

“Why? It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's.” Katsuki sighs and rolls onto his back, closing his eyes. “Just the way shit happens in this world.”

“I guess.” 

“The good ones die too soon. And the shitty ones stick around.”

Shouto huffs at the truth of that statement. 

They settle into a silence after that and Shouto finally lays down opposite of Katsuki, trying to absorb the last bit of warmth from the fire. They really should be sleeping, but it's been kind of nice having company. Especially when that company is Katsuki—despite the circumstances leading up to it. 

It could be fine. It has to be fine. There's no way around it now. Katsuki is here now and there's no talking him out of it. 

And maybe Shouto is okay with that. 

Chapter Text

Another overcast day.

It's probably going to snow today, Shouto thinks as he steps out of the small ski lodge that had been their shelter for the night, glancing up towards the sky and shrinking in on himself as a harsh gust of wind blows through what little trees were left at this altitude. If Shouto wasn't awake before, the frigid air made sure of it now. But it only makes him wish he was still asleep. This upcoming leg of the journey is what had him briefly second-guessing this entire route in the beginning. He knows what terrain lies in front of them. Harsh temperatures and drastic changes in elevation always graced any traveler's tale who took this path. 

Katsuki follows him outside and continues on past without stopping. “C'mon. Let's get going.”

The sound of someone else's voice almost startles him. It was strange not waking up alone again. This past week of travel had Shouto quickly falling back into his old mindset—his solo mindset. Like a switch just flipped in his brain. Now he has to adjust back to traveling with a partner again. It shouldn't be too difficult. It's Katsuki, after all. But the knowledge of their destination looming in the distance keeps him from fully being able to relax next to the man beside him.

“If we don't fuck around, we should get there by tomorrow evening, right?” Katsuki adds, now a few feet ahead of Shouto.

Shouto tries to ignore the way his stomach flips at the thought. He doesn't respond.

“Oi. You hear me?” Katsuki stops and turns around.

Shouto takes a deep breath to try to settle the fluttering in his chest before beginning towards Katsuki. “Yeah. That's right.”

He feels Katsuki eyeing him suspiciously as he slowly catches back up to him. Nothing else is said, though. There isn't anything to say. So they begin the day on the road in their typical silence. But it isn't too long before the noise in Shouto’s head drowns that silence out. 

Everything is different now. His priorities have shifted—whether he wanted them to or not. Before, Shouto only had to worry about himself once he stepped through those gates. Now, unsurprisingly, all that worry falls on Katsuki. He wishes Katsuki never followed him. It was easier that way. Katsuki being here only adds another complicating factor to whatever the fuck was about to happen once he arrived home. There's too many variables now. And Katsuki is confident. Too confident. Just the kind of confidence his father will take great pleasure in stripping away. Katsuki is just the type of person Enji enjoys breaking. 

And on top of it all, he's Shouto's weakness. Shouto is about to come waltzing back to the place where all his torment began—to the man who caused all of it—with his biggest weakness at his side. The thought of it makes him physically ill.

The snow finally begins as they enter their fourth hour of the day’s journey. It doesn't ever seem to fall to the ground though. It only swirls around above them, suspended in the endless gusts of wind. Shouto remembers this part of the journey well. The narrow valleys between the mountains funnel the frigid air, creating wind tunnels that make it feel just that much colder. It's a struggle to even breathe as the air seems to be stolen straight from their very lips. He can tell Katsuki is fairing just as poorly. They should try to find a spot to rest soon.

“Hey! Let's take a break up here,” Shouto yells over top of the wind to Katsuki, who had maintained a steady pace a few yards in front of him. 

“What?” Katsuki shouts back at him.

Instead of repeating himself, Shouto just nods his head towards a deep crevice in the mountain side they'd been following for the past couple miles. It should be enough of a reprieve from the elements, if only for a moment. 

He sees Katsuki take the hint and veer off into the crevice, quickly peeling off his backpack before letting all of his weight fall to the ground. Shouto is there next to him, not a minute after. They sit there, side-by-side with their backs against the frozen stone behind them, breathing heavily through the shards of glass that now line their lungs.

“You weren't fucking kidding, huh,” Katsuki says between labored breaths, referencing Shouto's brief summary of their remaining journey he gave him last night. 

“We'll start the descent soon. It should get easier after that, once we reach the treeline again.” 

Katsuki only makes a confirming grunt before letting his head fall back to rest on the stone. 

Shouto shuffles through his backpack and pulls out his last two granola bars. He'd been saving them specifically for this part of the journey. Something quick and easy that won't weigh them down—but calories nonetheless. 

He shoves one towards Katsuki.  “Here. Eat.”

Katsuki grabs it without hesitation and they crunch away together in silence. Shouto tries to enjoy the moment, but it's cut entirely too short when Katsuki gets back up on his feet, slugging his backpack over his shoulders. Shouto sighs, but does the same.

The treeline finally greets them after another brutal hour, and Shouto didn't think he'd ever feel so relieved to be off that godforsaken mountain. They've passed the worst of it. Well, physically at least. The rest of the journey's terrain is much like what they are currently trudging through—trees, brush, and low rolling hills. Nothing of any particular difficulty. They should make it there in no time.

“You've been quiet,” Shouto says once they both seem to level out their breathing on the easier path. He wanted to start brainstorming a plan for when they arrive, but he realizes Katsuki has only said a handful of things since their departure this morning. 

“As opposed to your non-stop blabbering?”

Their short exchange is cut even shorter when a noise to his right catches Shouto's attention. He turns his head just as another branch snaps under the weight of something behind them. His eyes lock onto movement next to a tree and he's swiftly drawing his sword. Apparently no words need to be spoken as Katsuki is at the ready as well, baseball bat in hand. 

“Fucking hollow,” Katsuki grumbles.

Shouto spots the source of the second noise and adds, “Make that two.”

The creatures waste no time and instantly beeline towards the two of them, the snow only providing slight resistance to their movement. But there's something odd about them. It takes a moment before Shouto realizes what it is.

They're not frozen.

Not in the slightest. Which means they had just turned. Most likely less than twenty-four hours ago. 

Shit… 

For some reason both hollows decide to go for Katsuki, choosing to completely ignore Shouto. He sees Katsuki duck away from a swiping hand just before spinning around and cracking his bat off one of the hollow's knees. The bones crunch on impact and the thing buckles to the ground, allowing Katsuki enough time to regain his balance. The second hollow is too close though, giving Katsuki no choice but to shove the midsection of his baseball bat into its snapping jaws at the last second, all while simultaneously avoiding its claws. Shouto cringes as he hears the wood of the bat creak and splinter underneath the bite force. 

“A little fucking help here, princess.”

The first hollow is now attempting to stand on its destroyed knee and within seconds Shouto is in front of the thing, slicing his blade clean through the midsection its skull. He lets the thing collapse lifelessly to the ground and turns to find Katsuki with the hollow that apparently finds the bat too tasty to let it go. Shouto steps up to it and puts the blade right through the back of its skull, watching it come through its forehead and only inches away from Katsuki’s face before pulling it back out, leaving the creature to fall limply between them. 

“Cuttin’ it a little close there, huh,” Katsuki snarks as he’s finally able to rip his weapon free from the thing's jaws. 

Shouto ignores the comment, eyeing the corpses in front of them. “Look. They're fresh.”

“Heh?”

Shouto's eyes meet Katsuki’s. “Every other hollow I've encountered so far has been frozen, or on the verge of it. These ones aren't. Which means they haven't had a chance to freeze yet.”

Katsuki connects the dots and looks down at the body in the snow. He thinks for a moment before asking, “Do you recognize them?”

Shouto glances between the two hollows a couple times before shaking his head. “No.”

There's a rock in his stomach now as he realizes the inevitable. These two were almost certainly from Inasa and Camie’s group that left a day ahead of him. No one else would be out here. Not that he can think of, anyways. They were most likely making the last supply run of the winter. It gets too risky with the weather as bad as it is to send anyone else out until spring. 

“Let's… let's keep moving,” Shouto mutters abruptly, more than ready to leave the ugly thoughts behind. He doesn't want to think about their group being overrun. He can't think about it. There's only two hollows here, and neither one was Camie or Inasa. Which means they're still alive. They're still okay.

“Hold on. Let's see what they have,” Katsuki responds, already hovering over top of the hollow in front of him. Shouto sighs and is about to begin checking the second one when Katsuki interrupts him. “What…the fuck?”

He turns back to find Katsuki staring at an open wound on the hollow's arm. The area had turned black, rotted, and festering with disease. The bite.

But…It's huge. 

Katsuki looks up at him in question and Shouto kneels down to get a better look. He pushes the sleeve up further, fully exposing the wound. From what he can make out through the sloughing tissue, the teeth marks appear to begin at the lower half of the forearm and extend all the way to the elbow. What the hell is capable of making that?

A quick examination shows a similar bite mark on the other body and a shiver runs up Shouto's spine as images of mutant hollows flood his imagination—disfigured creatures with jaws protruding out grotesquely. Have they mutated that severely up north? Perhaps the harsh temperatures caused the virus to alter its hosts in such a way to allow a better chance at survival. It's a ridiculous thought, but he supposes anything is possible with this fucking disease. 

“What do you think?” Katsuki asks, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“I have no idea.”

“Ponytail never mentioned anything like this to you?”

Shouto pauses to think through their conversations. But nothing like this has ever come up. He shakes his head. 

“I don't like it,” is all that Shouto says. 

Without dwelling on it too much longer, they finish looting. But after not finding much of any value, they continue on their way, attempting to leave any nightmarish thoughts behind with the corpses. 

With the terrain finally becoming easier, they're able to quicken their pace for the next few miles, but remain remarkably more relaxed than before—which apparently means Katsuki has enough energy to converse again.

“Ya know, I'm kind of surprised you didn't try to meet up with that gorilla.”

Shouto forces out a breath. “His name's Inasa.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki scoffs. “If you were smart you would've done so.”

“I prefer traveling alone. And apparently I was right to do so.” Shouto thinks back to the two hollows they left back in the snow.

Katsuki huffs. “Right.”

Shouto knows he's trying to push his buttons right now, but still he feels his patience slip. “What's happening? Are you upset that I didn't meet up with him—or just the fact that he exists at all?”

He sees Katsuki shoot him a glare before returning his gaze to the path in front of them. “I'm not upset. I'm great. Overjoyed. Loving this.”

“You didn't have to come, you know,” Shouto adds under his breath. He doesn't have the energy for this right now. 

“Oh trust me. I'm well aware.”

“Well you can still turn back.”

Katsuki clicks his tongue. “I'm sure you'd love it if I did.” 

Shouto can feel the direction this argument is going. He knows it's just a manifestation of their exhaustion. They're both losing their patience with each other and it's bringing out the worst in both of them. 

“I'm not answering that.”

“It wasn't a fucking question.”

Shouto sighs. “Maybe we should go back to not talking.”

He's frustrated with himself. They should be using this energy to have more productive conversations. But Katsuki clearly wishes to continue this petty argument instead.

“I just don't get why you had to keep him a secret.”

“I wasn't. There isn't anything to tell, Katsuki.”

He can almost hear the eye roll. “Right. So you're telling me there's no history between you two.”

Shouto stays quiet.

“Fuckin’ knew it.”

“He just…he got me through some hard times,” Shouto responds, quieter now. “It was only ever physical. Nothing more.”

“Did you tell him that? Because I saw the way he looked at you in the bar.” Katsuki slows his pace and finally brings his eyes up to meet Shouto's. “And you never even told him you left or where you went. You just disappeared on him one day. Come on, you heard him yourself. He thought you were dead, Sho.”

“I know. I—”

“And here you were trying to do the same exact shit to me.”

That got Shouto's attention. He stopped altogether, planting himself on the snow-covered trail, forcing Katsuki to stop as well.

“What?”

Katsuki doesn't repeat himself. He knows Shouto heard him. Crimson eyes lock onto his own as Katsuki refuses to back down.

“You…you don't actually think that, do you?” Shouto asks hesitantly. Katsuki remains quiet, but the harsh edges of his demeanor lessen a bit at the hurt in Shouto's voice. “This is a totally different situation, Katsuki.”

“Just because I fucking chased you down doesn't mean it's not any different than what you did to him.”

Shouto stiffens. “If you're trying to make me feel guilty about something that happened six years ago, it's not going to work. I was a completely different person back then—”

“Were you?” 

“Yes!” 

Shouto's quick response surprises even himself. Had that not been the very same question he was asking himself back when he started this journey?

Katsuki pauses before he softens completely, the fight entirely leaving him. His shoulders relax and even a ghost of a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.  

“Good. That's what I wanted to hear.”

Shouto eyes him suspiciously. Was that just a dirty trick he pulled? Was it so hard for Katsuki to just communicate like a normal person? Not that Shouto has any room to talk, but at least he doesn't somehow turn everything into an argument. Shouto sighs and begins walking again.

“Is that all you wanted? Just to hear me say that?”

“No. I wanted you to hear yourself say that.”

Shouto huffs. “Well. Are you happy now?”

Katsuki smirks and starts back up after him. “For now.”

The tension that built up within Shouto as he prepared for yet another fight releases itself all at once. Somehow, Shouto knows that isn't going to be the last time the topic of Inasa comes up, though. But he'll accept the reprieve for now. He doesn't want to spend these last few hours they had alone angry with each other anyways. Especially over something as stupid as past hookups.

Their destination looms ever closer and Shouto realizes they're running out of time to come up with a plan. After a few more moments of listening to nothing but their footsteps in the snow,  Shouto decides now is a good time to do that. 

“We should probably talk about a game plan for when we arrive.”

Katsuki glances over at him, brows pulled together in question. “Why do we need a game plan?”

“Well because my idea was to ignore you once we got there and pretend that I've never met you, but something makes me think you won't go for that.”

“No. Fuck that.”

Shouto sighs again. “And that's why we need a game plan.”

“Well there's not much to plan out. Wherever you go, I go.”

Shouto hesitates slightly. “That's probably not a good idea.”

“Why? ‘Cause daddy won't like it?”

Yes.

He keeps that response to himself, though. Any answer wouldn't make a difference to Katsuki right now. But he can't think of a better reason to argue it at the moment so he just silently stares at the path in front of them, waiting for Katsuki to continue.

“I don't care what that prick thinks. I'll make sure you never leave my sight just for the pure fact that it'll piss him the fuck off.”

Shouto lets out a frustrated breath. He's not going to get anywhere with this. It's best if he just moves on and leaves this line of conversation behind them. 

“We need to find my father and make sure he calls off his dogs as soon as possible. Best case scenario would be to get to him before anyone from Inasa’s group even has a chance to tell him they saw me. Of course, that's going on the assumption that someone is going to rat on me.”

“And what if no one does?”

Shouto sighs. “I don't see any other way. We can't risk it.”

Katsuki gives him an incredulous look. “The fuck do you mean there's no other way? We can get someone on the inside. Make sure they stop anyone from telling your dad. Or at least alert us if he's about to send people out on a rampage to Musutafu looking for you.” He throws his hands up. “Or shit, I don't know, we can have your brother relay info to us. There's a way we can do this without you ever having to be face to face with your father.”

Shouto pauses to think about Katsuki's suggestion. Perhaps. There's a chance it may work. He'd be able to see Touya again and also make sure his father remains unaware of his time in Musutafu. All of this while avoiding any direct contact with him.

“You might be right. Touya would help us. I think he would at least. We'd just have to find him while remaining hidden from my father and any of his little spies.”

“And how exactly do you expect to do that when you look like that?” Katsuki gestures to Shouto's hair.

“I found a hat a while back that will cover most of it. Or I'll just keep my hood up.”

Katsuki eyes him skeptically.

“Okay…” Katsuki draws out, unconvinced. “What's our story then?”

“Story?”

“Yeah. If someone asks us. Who are we? Why are we there? Where did we come from? Ya know, basic questions.”

“I don't know. We'll make something up.”

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. “You're not very good at this. You had all this time to come up with a plan and this is all you have?”

“I told you. My plan was to go straight to my father,” Shouto retorts. 

Katsuki scoffs. “And pretend that you don't know me.”

“Basically,” Shouto mutters under his breath.

Katsuki lets out a humorless laugh, his response dripping in sarcasm. “There's that impeccable, self-preserving Shouto we know and love.” 

Shouto can't help but squeeze his fists together. He's surprised the conversation even made it this far. They're both exhausted, and his frustration seems multiplied because of it. He can only assume Katsuki is experiencing the same. He grits his teeth together before forcing his jaw to relax. 

“Can we get back to working out a plan?” 

Katsuki growls in annoyance and turns forward, setting his pace with a purpose. “Let's find somewhere to stay for the night first. It's getting dark and I'm fucking starving.”

Shouto wants to argue, but it may be best for them if they continue their planning with full bellies and a roof over their head. 

“Fine. We should be coming up on a small neighborhood here shortly anyways. It's been abandoned for years, but should still have something suitable for the night.”

Katsuki only grunts in response before they continue the remaining evening trek in silence. 

Shouto’s memory doesn't fail him. The fuzzy outline of houses grace the horizon about another mile away. At the sight, the two of them pick up their pace, and within no time they are traversing the empty streets in search of their residence for the night. 

Once one was agreed upon, the two enter the house on alert, scouring every dark corner and searching behind each and every door. Neighborhoods on the outskirts of cities were always risky. They attracted a wide variety of travelers, such as themselves. And these travelers weren't always friendly. But once they are certain the house is empty, the two meet back up in what was once the family room all those years ago. They chose this house in particular based on the chimney which led down to a brick fireplace on the far side of the room. Having a fire with proper ventilation while still being closed off from the elements was rare to come by while traveling, but oh so welcomed. 

The two drop their gear in front of the freshly stoked fire, abandoning any thoughts of food for the time being, content to just sit there and appreciate the warmth seeping in through their many layers of clothing. The silence is peaceful and Shouto allows his mind to wander, but his thoughts never stray too far from his mission.

“I still can't believe I'm actually doing this.”

Katsuki huffs out a breath next to him. “Do you want my praise or something?”

Shouto glances over briefly before staring back into the fire. He ignores the question. “I never would've thought in a million years I'd be this close to home again.”

“Yeah. Well.” Katsuki scratches his head roughly before dropping his hand in his lap. He sighs. “Fuck it. You already know what I'm going to say.”

“We won't have enough rations to last us if we turn around now.” Shouto responds quietly, more to convince himself rather than Katsuki. 

“Who cares. We'd make it work. I've made it a lot longer with a lot less. And I know for fact you have also.” Katsuki’s words come out rushed with intent, latching onto the fact that Shouto would even mention turning around. “Plus I already told you, everyone back in Musutafu can handle themselves. At least until we get back.”

“I thought you didn't want to stay there if there was any chance that someone would come looking for me.”

“As long as your father is alive, there's always going to be a chance of that.” Katsuki rests his arms on his knees and stares directly into the fire. “You still deserve to live your life how you want to.”

Shouto frowns at the way Katsuki clings to that smallest bit of hope he still has. But maybe he isn't entirely wrong to do so. Maybe the smartest decision is to turn back, despite the risk and the physical demand of such a task. 

“I understand why you feel like you need to do this,” Katsuki continues. “Well maybe not entirely. But still. The risk you take by stepping foot back in that city is a way bigger risk than we would take by turning around now. Shouto, look at me.” He pauses long enough to hold Shouto's gaze. “You know your father will never let you leave again once he has you back. Please, tell me you know that.”

Shouto stares at Katsuki as more and more of the fight within him vanishes. Katsuki's right. Once his father knows he's there, that's it. His father would have him chained up in a dungeon if that's what it took to keep him there. 

He finally pulls his eyes away from Katsuki and they naturally fall back on the fire. “I know.”

But Touya. The only thing stopping him is Touya.

He tells himself the reason he left home six years ago was to find his brother, though he knows now there were many reasons for him to leave that place. But Shouto still feels that obligation tugging at him, pulling him further north. He doesn't even know how he'll react to seeing Touya again. Honestly, he might just hit him with a right hook the second he sees him. But he needs answers. Where did he go? Why did he come back? Why didn't he take Shouto with him? Why did he leave him alone with that monster for all those years? 

For a while, Shouto was beginning to think he didn't want to know the answers. Maybe the memory of Touya kept alive in his head is better than the real thing. Maybe he should be content living in ignorance. Maybe this whole thing is just Shouto being selfish again. 

Shouto lays back flat on the floor with a sigh and rubs his hands down his face, his mind suddenly torn in two opposite directions. This is so stupid. It's far too late for him to be reconsidering. He needs to follow through with this. He needs closure. But…

But what if this is the wrong decision?

What if he's putting himself, or worse—Katsuki in danger? How is he supposed to live with himself if something happens to him? Was this truly worth it? 

Shouto stares up at the dusty, cracked ceiling, studying it like it has all the answers for him. 

“Hey.” Katsuki's voice is gentle and it pulls him from his thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

Shouto doesn't answer at first. He lets his eyes fall shut and takes a deep breath in through his nose. He allows himself this singular moment to enjoy the peace that being next to Katsuki brings to him. 

Peace.

What if he never gets to feel this again?

Suddenly, it all seems so simple now.

“I think… I think you're right.” He sees Katsuki glance over towards him. “We should turn around.”

Katsuki completely shifts his body towards him now and Shouto finally opens his eyes to meet his. His blonde brows are pinched in confusion as if he can't believe the words he just heard.

“You serious?”

Shouto nods his head as the corners of his mouth pull up in a tired smile.

Katsuki is over top of him in a heartbeat, his calloused hands against Shouto's cheeks, holding him and guiding their lips together. Shouto feels Katsuki’s relief in the kiss. They melt together in front of the fire until Katsuki pulls back, looking down at Shouto with the biggest smile he's ever seen on him. 

God, he's so beautiful.

“You have no idea how fucking happy that makes me.” He says before his mouth is back on Shouto's.

“Me too,” Shouto manages in between the onslaught now that is Katsuki's lips. He wraps his arms behind Katsuki's neck, holding him close. At some point, they end up swapping positions and Shouto finds himself on top of Katsuki, running his fingers through the windswept mess of blonde hair while peppering kisses along his jaw. Katsuki sighs pleasantly underneath him.

The loudest stomach grumble ever occurs right then and Katsuki has to turn away in order to not snort directly in Shouto’s face. Groaning, Shouto drops his forehead against Katsuki’s chest, but he couldn't help but let out a chuckle along with him.

“There goes your stomach, ruining another good moment.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Sorry princess, can’t. Got another big journey ahead of us tomorrow.”

Shouto groans again in protest as Katsuki wiggles out from underneath him to rummage through his backpack in search of food.

“We'll pick this back up later. Promise.” Katsuki flashes a grin over his shoulder and winks. 

=================

“Nope. There's no way in hell we're going back that insane route you dragged us through,” Katsuki states sternly the next morning as the two pack up their belongings, preparing for the long journey back to Musutafu.

“The other way is longer.”

“I don't care. Fuck that mountain. I'm not doing it again.”

Shouto sighs in defeat. “Fine. But be prepared to go hungry for a few nights, then.”

Katsuki just mumbles something as he swings his backpack over his shoulders and walks out the front door, apparently quite eager to get the journey started. Shouto doesn't even have his boots on yet. Quickly, he laces them up as he attempts to mentally prepare himself to do the whole entire trek all over again. 

This is it. They're actually doing this. They're heading back to Musutafu. Back to Katsuki's home, and away from his own. But the more he has thought about it over the past few months, Musutafu has been more of a home to Shouto than this place had ever been. This all feels right. Finally, he feels like he's making the right decision. Maybe now he can truly begin to heal. Maybe now he can truly leave this place behind for good. The grasp his father holds on him is slipping.

Shouto takes a deep breath and steps out the front door to join Katsuki. But the joy he had just been experiencing is replaced with instant caution as he finds Katsuki standing motionless in the middle of the long-abandoned road. He's staring intently at something further down the street, just out of Shouto's line of sight. He takes a few steps off the rotted wooden porch before Katsuki's hand shoots out in his direction, motioning for him to stop moving. Shouto freezes, but those few steps have given him enough vision to see what it is that has Katsuki so tense.

About a hundred feet from them in the middle of the snow-covered clearing stood a wolf. Snow caked its fur, camouflaging the animal against its entirely white surroundings, but there was no doubt it was there. And it had Katsuki locked in its sights. 

In all of Shouto’s travels, he's only had one run-in with wolves that he can remember. There wasn't much to it, though. He was always taught to just leave them alone and they will leave you alone. So that's what he did. This wolf appears to be by itself, which should logically make it more skittish. Lone wolves don't like to take unnecessary risks. Not unless they're desperate. 

Perhaps this thing is, though.

Slowly, Shouto reaches for his sword just as the animal lets out the most haunting sound he's ever heard. Not even his nightmares have ever been so hideous. The noise was strangled—pained, and came out in at least two separate pitches, as if there were multiple holes lining its windpipe and letting the air escape out. Chills run through Shouto, as the sound could only be described as something between a howl and a wail. 

The wail of a hollow.

Suddenly, it takes off in their direction. Its speed dwarfs that of any other hollow Shouto has ever encountered.

“It's infected!” Shouto warns, quickly moving to Katsuki's side. As the thing sprints towards them, he can now make out the large chunks of matted fur hanging off the creature, exposing the mottled flesh underneath. 

Suddenly, Shouto remembers the conversation with Momo at the bar, after he first moved in with her—about a case where the virus had infected a deer. He wasn't so sure he believed it at the time. But there's no doubt now. This disease really could jump between species.

Another noise from behind catches Shouto's attention just in time for him to spot two humanoid hollow's rounding the corner and heading their way—quickly. More freshly turned…

“Shit.” Shouto mutters under his breath. They must've been alerted by the wolf.

“Dammit. You take care of those two fuckers!” Katsuki shouts back at him. “I got Fluffy here.”

Without hesitation, Shouto nods and takes off in the opposite direction of Katsuki towards the new intruders. He has to trust that Katsuki can handle himself. Just as Katsuki has to trust in Shouto. They've done this many times before—although, the wolf is a new variable he can't account for. He'll just have to deal with these hollows quickly and get back with enough time to help Katsuki.

Shouto comes up on the two hollows with speed, dodging out of the way of a swinging, clawed hand before quickly decapitating it's owner. Staying focused, he turns towards the second hollow, ignoring the multitude of crunching noises coming from the direction of Katsuki and the wolf.

The hollow swings at him, catching the sleeve of Shouto's jacket enough to shift his balance in the snow. The step he takes to regain it is no good as his boot loses its traction. Shouto ends up on his side in the snow with the creature now above him, ready to lunge. Quickly, he rolls out of the way, barely avoiding the full weight of the decrepit being on top of him. It takes more effort than he intended, but finally Shouto manages to get back on his feet, wasting no time and impaling the thing's skull directly through its eye socket. 

Shouto takes a second to scan the corpses, finding some small relief that he did not recognize these two either. Not Inasa. Not Camie. 

Suddenly, a blur in the edge of his vision catches his attention. It comes up on him fast. Much too fast for him to react in time. The thing barrels into him, smacking Shouto square in the chest, knocking all the air out of his lungs as he lands on his back in the snow. 

Dread flows through him at the sight of fur caked black with old blood and the intense smell of death that accompanied it.

A second wolf. 

Then there's nothing but pain. It explodes out from his shoulder, overwhelming all other senses. It's so intense—so different from anything he's ever experienced before. He can feel each individual tooth puncturing, ripping and tearing through his skin. The wolf's jaws clamp down with tremendous strength, like a vice cranking more and more and more until finally Shouto's collarbone snaps under the pressure. 

The pain causes him to yell out, but his own voice sounds so far away. It didn't even sound like himself. He has to do something. He has to get this thing off of him, quickly. He needs to kill it. Desperately, he reaches for where his katana landed in the snow. He grasps at it, finding only the blade. But that is enough. He grips it tight, ignoring how it cuts through his glove and into his hand, and thrusts it with all his strength into the side of the wolf's skull. 

Immediately, the creature goes limp on top of him. The smell of decay is everywhere, all around him. That—the pain—everything, it all makes him want to vomit. Swallowing down the urge, he's finally able to gather enough strength to shove the body off of him, but every single movement causes another wave of agony to shoot out from his shoulder. 

That can't stop him. He can't let it stop him.

With the weight of the creature finally off of him, Shouto attempts to stand up. He needs to get to Katsuki. He needs to help him. 

This is bad.

Finally, he manages to get his feet under him, but there's no strength there to carry him forward. He stumbles backwards against a wooden fence, the collision with the wood tearing another pained gasp from him and his legs give out. Shouto slides to the ground with his back resting against the fence.

This is bad, this is bad, this is bad.

He feels panic start to set in, but he knows he needs to calm down and control his breathing. Panic never helps in these situations. Slowly, he brings his hand up to his ruined shoulder, ignoring how terribly he's shaking. Blood has already soaked through his layers of clothes and the sight of it covering his hand begins to strip away his hope. What can he do? There has to be something he can do.

It can't be too late. This can't be it.

In the distance, he hears Katsuki yell his name. Then suddenly he's directly in front of Shouto, frozen in place, the blood-coated baseball bat slipping from his hand and landing in the snow. 

He falls to his knees.

“No…”

Right then and there, Shouto sees true fear in Katsuki's eyes. He hates it. He hates it so much. He wants to rewind the clock. Take them back twenty minutes—back inside the house. Back when they were bickering about which route to take.

No.

Take them back further. Back to Musutafu. Before this whole mess of a journey even started.

Why the fuck did he do this?

Why did he have to ruin everything they had?

Katsuki's initial shock wears off enough for him to move again. He maneuvers onto Shouto's lap, pulling away his jacket to better inspect the wound with hope that there might be something that can be done. But Shouto watches whatever amount of hope there was leave him entirely. Letting his arms fall to his side, Katsuki sits back. But he continues to stare at the wound, refusing to look Shouto in the eye.

“It's a bite.” He says, barely audible. Finally, he looks up at Shouto, his eyes dulled, holding no trace of their usual fire. “You were bit.”

Shouto closes his eyes and drops his head back against the fence that has him propped upright. All he can do is nod.

“I–It's okay.” Katsuki’s voice comes out shaky. “We can… it'll be okay.”

“Katsuki…” 

“We don't… we don't know that you'll turn.”

“Katsuki—”

“There's never been any reports of this. Nobody has even seen an infected wolf before. There's no evidence saying you'll turn.”

“Yes there is… Those hollows yesterday. Those bite marks…”

“Fuck,” Katsuki just shakes his head. “We might have time. We can go get help. Maybe we could even make it back to Momo. I know they’ve been working on some kind of new treatment.”

“Katsuki. Stop…”

“No!” 

He punches the fence next to Shouto's head so hard he can hear the wood splinter on impact. Then silence. Too much of it. For entirely too long, nothing but the sound of Katsuki’s labored breaths can be heard in the dead neighborhood. 

“Don't…” Katsuki whispers through gritted teeth. “Don't give up already. We have to at least try. I…I have to try.”

After all their time spent together, they never once talked about what they would do in this situation. In all honesty, Shouto never saw himself going out like this. He was too skilled with the sword, and a hollow's reaction time was nothing compared to his own. Not once has a hollow ever come close to taking him down. 

For it to happen here, now. With Katsuki…

Shouto feels… guilty. It's too unfair to make him go through this. Not again. 

“You should start heading back…”

Katsuki pulls away enough to look Shouto square in the face, his expression showing he couldn't believe what Shouto had just suggested. 

“Yeah. Okay. Let me just leave you bleeding out in the snow by yourself.”

“Please Katsuki—”

“No. And fuck you for even suggesting that. If I'm leaving, it’s with you on my fucking back.”

Shouto looks away and grits his teeth as another wave of agony pulses from the wound. It's as if he can feel the virus traveling through his bloodstream. He's not sure how much time he has. All the reports he's read vary in this regard. Some believe it has to do with how strong the victim’s immune system is, while others believe the incubation period is solely based on the strain of the virus. The longest transition on record took a little under a week, but that was during a treatment trial—one that ultimately failed in the end. 

Maybe he will just bleed out before he has a chance to become one of those monsters. It's a small mercy this world could show him for once. But Shouto knows the wound isn't deep enough for that. The frigid temperatures have already slowed the bleeding down.

“How… does it feel?”

Shouto drops his head against the fence once more. “Fucking hurts.”

Katsuki lets out a breath, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. 

“What.”

“It's weird hearing you curse.”

Shouto narrows his eyes at Katsuki before giving his best attempt at a smirk in his current condition. “Fuck you.”

He would've laughed after that but his lungs refused, instead leading him into a fit of coughing, each movement amplifying the stabbing pain that has now moved down his arm and across his chest. 

No…

This is too quick…

Katsuki must see it too. He does little to hide the worry in his expression.

“Shouto, please just let me try to get you somewhere. We're wasting too much time.”

Shouto shakes his head. “It's too fast. You won't make it. I don't want to…if I turn.”

“I don't care. You'll fucking take me down with you then I guess.”

Shouto twists his face up. “No. I don't want to hurt you.”

He feels the strength quickly leaving him and can hear how weak his voice sounds now. His heart is racing, but everything else seems to be slowing down. 

“I know it's selfish…” Shouto whispers and Katsuki looks up at him, once again tearing his gaze away from his ruined shoulder. “I'm so sorry—”

Katsuki's grip tightens in the fabric of his coat and slowly, Shouto wraps his arm around Katsuki's waist, roaming his fingers until he finds the cold metal of the pistol tucked in his waistband. He wraps his hand around it, pulling it out but dropping it into the snow next to them. His movements are becoming clumsy. He falls back against the fence with a thud. 

Katsuki glances at the gun before instantly ripping his eyes away from it and squeezing them shut. He shakes his head repeatedly back and forth, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth.

“No. Fuck. I can't.” he whispers. “Please, Sho. Please, don't make me.”

Guilt rips through Shouto. The pain in Katsuki's voice feels a hundred times worse than anything Shouto is currently experiencing. Katsuki is the true victim here.

There's nothing he could say to make this easier. So he apologizes again. “I'm sorry…”

Katsuki just continues to shake his head. His face pinches up and Shouto watches the first tear roll down his cheek, falling and sinking into the fabric of Shouto’s coat underneath. 

“Please. I need you, Katsuki. I can't…I can't do it myself.”

Katsuki hangs his head, shielding it from view, but Shouto can still feel him shaking, fighting to keep his composure. More tears fall.

Finally after some time, Katsuki goes still. Shouto knows he's running through all of his options in his head, all scenarios that could possibly play out. But Katsuki is smart. He'll eventually accept that this is the only way.

“I—just… Not yet.” There's no fight left in his voice. “I'm not—I can't…Not yet.”

“Okay.” Shouto lets out a small breath. “We can wait.”

It's funny. This isn't how Shouto envisioned the end at all. Hell, he had the end all planned out for himself not even a year ago. But he can't say this is so bad of a way to go out—much better than the way he planned it. Here, with just the two of them. In the dead of winter. In this dead neighborhood with dead things surrounding them. But at least it's just the two of them. That makes it not so terrible. He can die happy like this.

A part of him thinks he should still be angry at how this all played out. He should still be angry at Katsuki for following him out here when he could be home in Musutafu right now, still pissed at Shouto for leaving him. And when Shouto never returned, he could assume that he stayed for Inasa or something.

But he realizes anger just isn't worth it anymore. Not when his time in this world has been drastically cut short. So instead he'll choose to be happy. He can look back at their short time together and be thankful for every second of it. It was far more than he ever expected to get out of this life. 

“Thank you,” Shouto breaks the silence they've been in for some time. “You did so much for me…back then. You didn't have to.”

“Shut up. We're not doing this yet. No goodbye talk.”

Shouto finds enough energy to smile. “No goodbye talk. I…just wanted to make sure you knew…how much that meant to me,” Shouto manages between breaths. 

Katsuki doesn't respond. His gaze drops down to the button on Shouto's jacket he had been picking at.

“How long…” Shouto whispers, “did it take. For Izuku to…”

Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away, gazing instead at the dead wolf next to them. He stares for a long while, inevitably reliving the nightmare in his mind before finally answering. “Not long.”

Shouto feels his heart sink. He truly wishes there was another way—for Katsuki's sake. He thinks about making Katsuki promise him that he'll go on and live a long, happy life after all of this, but decides against it. It's not fair to make him promise something like that. It's very likely Katsuki will never go back home after this. Or perhaps maybe he will. But in any case, Shouto can't make him promise anything. It's up to Katsuki how he wishes to live his life after this.

He feels Katsuki adjust himself on top of him, moving closer to Shouto. It feels nice. Warm. He wishes they could be like this forever. 

“I should've let those goddamn hollows eat you whole in front of that apartment building back then. Would've saved myself a lot of trouble,” Katsuki mumbles.

Shouto snorts weakly. “Yeah. Well…I'm glad you didn't.”

He's not sure exactly how much time passes as they sit there, Katsuki clinging to him, resting his head on Shoutos undamaged shoulder, face tucked into his neck. Each breath Katsuki takes warms his skin and Shouto counts them. Two for every one of his own. He rests his head on top of Katsuki’s, trying to block out the ache—trying to find comfort in Katsuki's presence. 

But everything hurts.

He feels the virus shutting his organs down one by one. It's getting harder to breathe. It feels like his lungs are filling with fluid. His pulse is weak—his heart beating too fast but not getting the blood to go where it needs to. His brain is struggling to put thoughts together. He feels cold.

How much more time can they risk like this? It can't be long.

His eyes don't want to open anymore. 

“Katsuki.”

“No… Just a little longer, Sho.”

“It hurts…” He can barely hear his own voice through the fog in his head.

He feels Katsuki stiffen at that before finally, he pulls away, sitting back on Shouto's lap. The noise, the movement. It all feels so sluggish with the way Shouto's brain comprehends it. He hears Katsuki sniffle. Then there's lips on his. They're warm. So much warmer than his own. But the kiss is light, like Katsuki understands how much pain Shouto is in. 

“I love you, Sho. So goddamn much.”

The ice cold barrel touches his temple, a harsh contrast to the warmth he now misses so much. 

Then everything goes dark.