It hit Katsuki fully on a Tuesday morning, one month after Deku’s departure.
Deku was off in the world without Katsuki at his side.
Logically, he knew that Deku was in America already and settling in at his new agency with his hero mentor. But it seemed that his heart finally caught up to the realization that there was 59 more months until Deku came home. (He was not counting).
“Bakugou, we have to get out of here before my father comes and finds us more work to do,” stated the monotone voice of Todoroki, snapping Katsuki out of his sudden sleep-deprived realization. “I’m tired of spending time with you today.” It was unfortunate that Katsuki’s choice to work at the Endeavor agency made Katsuki’s constant hero companion, the half-and-half bastard Todoroki. All things considered, the guy wasn’t so bad, but sometimes the dual quirk user just irritated Katsuki to no end.
They were in the locker rooms after landing themselves the shittiest shift in the agency, patrol from midnight to 7am (the graveyard shift), after they both gave Endeavor some mighty back talk two weeks ago. (If there was one thing that Katsuki liked about Todoroki Shouto was that the other boy was so skilled at throwing shade that he didn’t even realize that he was doing it). It the most boring shift, because everyone with a half-a-brain was sleeping.
“Right,” said Katsuki, with a huff. “You heard from Deku?”
“Ah,” said Todoroki, in a knowing tone which grated on his nerves. “Please save your relationship problem talk for Kirishima. I don’t want to know.”
“Fuck you, Icy-Hot,” said Katsuki, snarling.
“And to answer your question, I have not heard from Midoriya yet, but according to his mother, he’s quirk training somewhere in the American wilderness,” stated Todoroki.
Katsuki scowled. It wasn’t a surprise that former Class 1-A taken to visiting and checking up on Deku’s mother, as that was his major concern about leaving for America. As he and others all wanted Deku to succeed, they assured him that they would look after his mother for him. Katsuki popped in when he could to see if she was alright and he knew that his parents invited her to dinner every Sunday.
Todoroki gave him a blank stare. “I’m sure once he’s able, he’ll call, Bakugou.”
“Shut the hell up, I don’t need your sympathy,” said Katsuki, grabbing his bag, and storming out of the locker room. There was only so much of Todoroki’s bluntness he could take on any given day. Besides, Katsuki was cranky and tired and he wanted to sleep.
“It’s okay to admit that you miss him, bro,” said Kirishima. Katsuki glared at his best friend, as they waited for Ashido, Sero and Kaminari to show up at their apartment for a chance to hangout since their busy adult lives started. “I miss Midoriya too, but you’ve been sulking for days now.”
“Did that bastard Icy-Hot tell you something,” demanded Katsuki.
Kirishima looked away. “He called me, yeah. We both figured that it finally hit in you in the heart. But it’s okay. We all miss him.”
Katsuki grit his teeth. “You two talking shit about me?”
“No, bro, we’re not,” said Kirishima, narrowed. “It’s friendly concern. Remember that all of our class promise to stay friends no matter what.” There was some sort of lame promise between their classmates at graduation—all Katsuki could remember was the beaming proud look on Deku’s face when they graduated together.
Katsuki was not amused. For the last four days, he felt like something was wrong with his chest. He knew it was some form of anxiety from not hearing a word from Deku for the last month. “He’s too damn busy right now. And I don’t miss him that much.”
Kirishima frowned, “We both know that’s not true. You don’t have to act so tough about it. I wouldn’t know what to do if Mina went to another country for years without me.” Kirishima and Ashido have been dating since second year. They were a sickeningly sweet couple and Katsuki was happy for them, but he would never tell them that fact.
Scowling, Katsuki said, “Me and that shit nerd ain’t the same as you and Pinky.”
“We both also know that’s not true. Dude, you’re regressing. Be a man and admit you miss Midoriya,” said Kirishima, arms crossed and stern look on his face.
Suddenly, their front door was slammed open by the pink demon as she and the other two charged it with takeout food. Katsuki kept scowling, even though with the others around Kirishima dropped the topic of Deku.
“Thank you, Katsuki-kun. You didn’t have to go food shopping with me,” said Auntie Inko, as Katsuki carried the four bags of food for her. Deku used to like food shopping with his mother and while she only need to make food for one person, she liked to keep things consistent. He also knew that she’s been getting a lot of visitors (mostly from him, Uraraka, Todoroki, Iida, Tsuyu and Kirishima).
“S’fine, Auntie,” said Katsuki. It was his Sunday off (the one Sunday he was allowed off for the month—heroes always worked weekends), “So long as you make me some curry.” This Sunday, his parents were away at a fashion show so Katsuki wanted to make sure that Auntie Inko had some company that evening.
Auntie Inko giggled softly. “Of course.”
With practiced ease, he dropped the bags on the kitchen counter and in no time, the groceries were put away. She made him sit down, while she began organizing the ingredients. “Have you been doing okay, Auntie?”
“Well, I’m grateful that Izuku made such good friends that come and check up on me,” said Auntie Inko, sighing. “I thought the time Izuku had at the dorms would prepare me for him being in America, but it’s lonely without him.”
Izuku was Inko’s whole world. Her life revolved around her only son. Katsuki knew it because his own mother explained it to him when he was sixteen and things were getting better between him and Deku. He didn’t really get it then, but he understood now.
“Does he call you,” asked Katsuki, who was definitely not hurt over not being called or texted by Deku.
“Every week since he left,” said Auntie Inko, softly. “He said something about quirk enhancement training.”
“Hmm, that’s probably a good thing for him,” muttered Katsuki. Even after three years of training, Deku still had a ways to go in order to understand and properly use the quirk One for All.
“I just miss him so much,” said Auntie Inko, voice wobbly.
“Ah, Auntie, don’t cry. He’ll be back before you know it.”
“What the fuck you want from me, Round Face?”
“Ah, I missed your colorful language, Bakugou-kun,” cheered Uraraka, with a smile on her face. She was standing at his front door two hours before he had to go in for his latest shift.
“Round Face, it’s 10 at night,” said Katsuki. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I’m lonely without Deku. Comfort me.”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed at the cheerful, stubborn young woman and alarms of warning blared in his head. “Fuck you. Go to Glasses or Icy-Hot for that shit, woman.”
“I told Kirishima-kun that you’d see right through me,” said Uraraka, with a sigh. “Can’t you just admit out loud that you’re lonely without Deku? I know you’re trying to be tough about the separation, but you don’t have to be.” Sometimes, he was sick of his meddling friends.
Uraraka and Katsuki stared each other down, before Katsuki responded with a gruff, “Go home, Round Face. I’m fine.”
“Why are you like this? Do you not get enough calcium in your diet,” said Todoroki, the barbed comment was monotone in his delivery. Todoroki was angry with Katsuki this day.
“I fucking hate you all,” said Katsuki, grumbling.
Thanks to Katsuki offending one of the pro-heroes that worked for Endeavor, they were stuck doing a Public Relations deal with a children’s hospital. Pro-Sidekicks Ground Zero and Shouto were popular with children, even if most of them said that Ground Zero had a scary face. They were eating lunch with a gaggle of children who were able to get out of bed.
Deku was better at this kind of stuff than either of them.
At least, he didn’t make any children cry…yet.
“Hey, Dad, what are you doing here,” Katsuki asked, as he let his father into his and Kirishima’s apartment.
His dad had a bag for him. “Your mom bought you some clothes that she wanted to me drop off since you, and I quote “Don’t visit his poor, lonely parents anymore.”” Katsuki rolled his eyes as he took the bag of designer clothing. “She wants you to come to dinner when you’re free.”
“Oh, well, I’m getting back on day shift soon,” said Katsuki, shrugging. “You’ve been taking care of yourself, old man? You and mom?”
“Look at you, having concern for us,” said his dad, smiling. “I’m more worried about you. Inko-san said that you’ve been visiting a lot lately.”
“Not you too, Dad. I’m fine,” said Katsuki, sighing.
His dad was quiet for a moment. “You and Izuku-kun have been together since before you could even remember. You’re not alone but you’re lonely without him and you can’t explain it. Instead of waiting for him to call you, try to call him or text him or whatever it is that you kids do this days, alright?”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed and wondered if his dad, who was mostly steady quiet and calm, knew about Katsuki’s unresolved feelings for Deku. “Thanks for the advice, dad. But I’m fine.”
“If you say so.”
It honestly shouldn’t be this hard. Katsuki had every right to call Deku. Deku was his childhood friend. No, but Deku was more than that—Deku was his friend, his rival, the one person in the world that really understood him and the person that Katsuki loved with every fiber of his being. He cursed his own fear for not being able to tell Deku how he felt the night before Deku left for five years.
Katsuki sat on the bed in his room. Due to the time differences, it was the middle of the day in America and reasonably Deku would be up and about training or heroing or whatever. He had his cell phone in his hand, staring at the profile picture for Deku.
The picture was of an unaware Deku laughing joyously, cheeks lightly dusted with red. It was a sight. Uraraka sent him the picture last year and on impulse, Katsuki put as Deku’s profile pic in his phone. It also meant that no one touched his phone, save Kirishima, who knew about his feelings for Deku. It was embarrassing.
He should call. It’s been two months and to Katsuki, it felt like Deku dropped off the face of the planet.
With that, Katsuki chucked his phone next to him on his bed and ignored the urge to call Deku.
Something was off when he entered the Midoriya apartment for his weekly visit with Auntie Inko. For one, she always greeted him. Instead she heard a familiar giggling and laughing from the kitchen. His mother was visiting Auntie Inko.
“Hey, brat,” said his mom, as she and Auntie Inko entered the living room. Auntie Inko was carrying a box. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed on the box. The box was covered in childish drawings of All Might and other heroes. “Look what we got.”
Katsuki turned to leave. He was not dealing with the wretched “Kacchan and Izuchan’s Box of Memories” that the two mothers saved chronicling Katsuki and Deku’s life together. It stayed with Auntie Inko because if it had been at the Bakugou household during Katsuki’s middle school days, he would have burnt the thing to a crisp.
The stupid box also made a reappearance last year’s Mother’s Day event at UA, much to Katsuki and Deku’s chagrin. There was some serious blackmail material in that box.
“Katsuki-kun, you’re going to stay for lunch, aren’t you,” asked Auntie Inko, simply in a tone that said he had to do so. (Also the guilt, he promised Deku he’d look after Auntie Inko and made sure she was happy).
He found himself sitting between his mother and Auntie Inko with the contents of the box displayed on the coffee table. The sight of Deku and him as toddlers, hand-in-hand playing happily was enough to make him have a lot of feelings.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
Katsuki was starting to think that he was being kind of pathetic. It was just Deku and Deku would be thrilled to hear from “Kacchan.” In fact, as Katsuki sat at his desk in his room, Deku was probably thinking something like “oh, I don’t want to bother anyone.” He took his phone out of his pocket.
He and Todoroki were back on day shifts and so far, Katsuki managed to keep himself out of trouble and out of sight of Endeavor (who was going to get a serious beat down one of these days; if not Katsuki, he’d pay to see Todoroki bitch-slap his own father). He was a little bruised in the ribs after getting slammed into the side of a brick building, but he was still in one piece.
Sighing to himself, Katsuki quickly pressed the call button before he could chicken out again. He waited as the phone rang.
Katsuki grinned when he heard the tired voice of his nerd.