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Brief summary for this Oneshot: Katsuki gets adopted by Aizawa, court deeming Mitsuki and Masaru unfit for custody (also locking them up for abuse).

But Katsuki is not happy.

P.S: Shinsou's also become his brother and he hates him too.

The room was comfy enough, but Katsuki didn't let himself indulge in it. Watching the plain, undecorated wall, his bags open across the purposefully soft carpet, and his eyes drift to the window longingly. The cloudless sky is an enticing azure. Luring him with freedom that bursts short lived ideas, which elongate into longer creatives.

He decides he'll run away from here one day. If one day is right now, tomorrow, or a year from now, he has zero idea. It's plotless. There's no teeth to back that drowning thought up, to support it, but it's a loosely made promise anyways. It will happen someday though, he knows for sure. Even if there's not a single supporting backbone in the plan.

Katsuki's bottom sinks into the bed as he takes a seat. He hates it instantly, because it's false. Fake. This isn't love! This isn't... he wonders about his parents so often, and the thought creates a digging gape in his heart that feels more fatal than a gunshot. More scooping, more emptying, it gives too much emotion to think, and it's so mentally tiring.

He tries not to be exhausted by the simple thought of them, but he feels put out nearly instantly and swoons onto the bed. Grabbing his forehead and scowling, soon opening his eyes, gazing at the flush ceiling light above. Nearly admiring it before he reminds himself he's not supposed to. Barely a few hours here, and the closet is still bare. He won't pack anything because this isn't his home.

Then the door creaks open, Katsuki doesn't even move his eyes to see who it is. Because that'll imply interest, interest in whoever is there. And interest means he cares about them. The last thing he feels in the world for them is endearment, he won't even let them misunderstand.

'Hey,' a cool, easygoing voice. With more "kindness" than Katsuki's ever heard from him, whatever Shinsou believes about him is false, but Katsuki's spite is strong enough he keeps quiet. He won't subject himself to conversation with this freak. 'We ordered some food, you hungry?'

No, you make me sick to the gut. Just hearing you fucking talk makes me lose my appetite. But he remains silent, hoping the boy will figure it out himself. There's a sigh from him, and unfortunately, the ignoring only causes him to talk, 'You can't avoid us forever.'

Yes. Yes I can, watch me.

Why couldn't Aizawa just leave him alone when he wanted? It wasn't any of his business what went on behind closed doors, Katsuki was entitled to his own privacy! Or he was wrong the whole time. Because nobody listened to him, whenever he spoke the investigators would look at him with deerlike eyes holding the ability to harness all the pity in the world, then and there, before switching to professionally cold. Always throwing the blond in for a loop, and making him pause.

The man was dead set on Mitsuki being a bad influence. Bad enough that she was thrown in jail, but that wasn't the case at all. If Katsuki was being hurt in any way, he would have known. Discipline with stronger people has to be worse, that's just how it works. If you tax the rich the way you tax the poor, society goes to shit. He had expected Aizawa to be sharp enough to know that, but he didn't.

He didn't.

He was stupid.

He was idiotic.

Moronic.

Fucktard.

Idiot.

Brainless.

Donkey headed.

Dumbass!

And now Katsuki's stuck in a room that's quote on quote safe. Staring at a window he feels he'll never be able to truly experience, in a room he doesn't want to feel any comfort in, with an empty stomach.

It's more mentally unbearable than anything else he's been through. Mitsuki never had to send him in a spiral of emotional thoughts, she was straightforward, easy to read.

With her, he knew she hated him completely, wholly, without a shadow of doubt. Any smiles would be ceremoniously slapped off, and any moments of happiness cut short. She took an illicit pleasure in seeing Katsuki suffer. That was something he had gotten used to, that was her showing him what the real world would be like.

But in her gentle moments, full of rare kind words, and unusual endearment that always left Katsuki's hair prickly and made his neck cold with sweat. It was nice but oh so weird at the same time, he would wait for her to switch, and she'd get upset again. When Mitsuki was happy, he learned to avoid her. That was something he had also gotten used to.

This was not.

This was different.

Different is bad.

This is not how anything should work.

He'll never be able to live here.

And he'll sure as hell never be Shinsou's brother.

Words: 850

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