Chapter Text
Eijirou’s tried to stop.
For years.
He’s dated men and women – fucked them too, on occasion – but it only leaves him feeling hollow. Empty. Worse.
Like someone took a knife and carved out his chest without giving so much as a band-aid to close the wound.
All because the one his heart beats for, his Hero Partner…
Will never love him back.
Eijirou’s long since come to this conclusion. It’s been gradually destroying him piece by piece, yet it’s only ever become unbearable in private. When news of Katsuki’s latest fling flashes across the headlines. After his partner is accompanied to Hero Galas and award ceremonies by a beautiful lady who trails in his wake. When Eijirou lies awake at night, alone, his bed cold and vacant.
That’s when his emotions take over.
And it’s never like this, with color fading from his vision and something that must be blood trickling from his tear ducts.
Furiously wiping his eyes so nobody pinpoints his distress, the Hero quickly walks away from the hall he just entered, throat clogged.
“I wanna make it official,” rings in his ears loud enough it drowns out his heavy steps. He’s half-convinced his heart bulldozed through his ribcage and is somewhere on the floor behind him. Shit, he might…he might throw up.
The very moment he saw Katsuki’s back and the velvet box clutched in Katsuki’s hand, the fabric faded from brilliant crimson to a dull shade of gray.
Eijirou shouldn’t be surprised. His Hero Partner and best friend is widely known as being one of the most beautiful human beings alive. He’s brave and strong and so damn manly that it steals Eijirou’s breath on a daily basis.
Katsuki blasts in and incapacitates a villain in mere seconds? Goodbye, air.
He fights a long, arduous battle but comes out victorious, covered in sweat, eyeliner smudged and smile absolutely feral? Eijirou can’t remember how to breathe.
His best friend falls asleep in his bed, expression relaxed and content after a particularly trying day? Hell, Eijirou could die happy right then, oxygen no longer necessary.
It was obviously only a matter of time before Katsuki found The One.
And Eijirou’s been a horrible friend throughout the process. Instead of being supportive during Katsuki’s search, he’s harbored something bitter and ugly, always terrified that a date will result in his best friend returning to the apartment gushing. That the blonde will arrive with news of moving out or an engagement.
But he never has.
Never has Katsuki divulged information about his personal life. He doesn’t talk about outings, pretending the girls plastered in the media with their flashy dresses and high heels don’t exist. He brushes everything off. Insists it doesn’t mean anything. That it’s fake.
And those lies almost hurt worse than the truth.
Almost.
A new wave of tears prick his eyes and Eijirou decides that he doesn’t care if he’s climbed a few spots on the billboard. At this point, he doesn’t care if his Pro Hero ranking has dropped. There’s no chance in hell he can sit through an award ceremony right now.
Eijirou doesn’t even return to the table.
Making a beeline for the exit, he forces a well-mannered smile for the security guard who opens the rear door and silently thanks the man for not asking any questions. Unfortunately, it doesn’t dawn on him until the night wind pelts his face that he and Katsuki rode here together. His vehicle isn’t even here.
That’s…about right.
Shoving his fists deep into his pockets, Eijirou blends into the shadows in an effort to avoid attention from the press. Thankfully most are still inside the venue, allowing for a calm walk to the train station.
From his first step onto the platform, he’s unable to fend off fans eager to share a fist bump or take a photo with Red Riot.
He pretends everything’s fine.
He pretends that he’s on duty, taking one for the team while his friends and partner attend the Hero Ranking ceremony.
Then he escapes as soon as possible.
One glance at his phone reveals notifications for texts and missed calls, more reminders of his current situation, and Eijirou barely fends off the violent instinct to smash it against concrete.
It’s strange, existing in a world devoid of color. What once were vibrant shades of red or blue or yellow are nothing more than muted tones of gray. Releasing a broken laugh that’s more akin to a wheeze, he’s grateful the path he chose is deserted because he can no longer beat away the tears. They flow down his cheeks and drip onto his bare torso and he swears it feels different – that every drop is characterized by sharp edges that slice and sting. That the chime of a bell rings with each that shatters onto the ground.
For a brief moment, he even believes he hears Katsuki’s explosions in the distance.
He’s finally snapped.
Seeking emergency care would make sense, but it would also make a scene. Reaching out to his family might make him feel better short-term, yet all they’d do is worry. All his friends are at the ceremony.
So he puts one foot in front of the other and trudges…toward their apartment?
Eijirou’s stomach drops. He hadn’t thought the destination through, simply operating on autopilot. Why on earth would he go there? So he can be surrounded by their memories? Reminded of hopes and dreams that will never come to pass? His intestines writhe at the very thought, his body rebelling.
Hell no.
Changing course, he heads toward their agency for the night, ignoring the incessant vibrating of his phone. Eijirou doesn’t even look to see who’s calling before turning it off. For good measure, he rips the tracker from his belt and crushes it beneath his boot.
He can’t explain to the others why he left. He doesn’t want them to come after him. What he needs is to be alone.
Drying his cheeks on the back of his wrist, Eijirou’s immensely grateful to have pocketed his wallet and keys. That’ll at least get him inside his office. Then, in the morning, he can seek out a doctor on staff to determine if he’s been struck with a Quirk or if this is a crazy stress response like when people sweat blood.
Because it doesn’t make sense.
People aren’t just suddenly colorblind.
And they certainly don’t cry stars.