Halfway to the Moon

Moonlight Beckons (Pt. 2)

 Katsuki grumbled aggravatedly, arms crossed over his chest and red eyes burning holes into the flat, wooden surface of Deku's front door. He did not want to be here.

 Wanting to know what was wrong with the stupid nerd did not mean he cared about him and certainly didn't mean he wanted to hang out with the little shit. He'd deduced the night before that his interest in Deku's problems was purely derived from curiosity, anger at Deku for possibly being weak and letting little shit get him down when he was constantly spouting shit about going to UA, and his own, admittedly inane, need to know anything and everything. He justified his meddling further by marking this as his starting line- if he couldn't even help shitty, dumbass Deku then what kind of hero could he possibly turn out to be?

 He refused to think about any alternative reasons because if he was doing this for something other than the things he'd already come up with then that would mean he really didn't know himself as well as he thought he did. It would mean sitting down and re-evaluating everything he thought he knew about himself and he was not ready to do that. Not that he had to, anyway. There were no other reasons.

 He was drawn out of his thoughts by the loud, resounding booms his mother's fist made on the door as she knocked. Old Hag never knew how to hold back.

 The door swung open moments later, revealing an excitable looking Deku. The freckled boy was drowning in an oversized pink hoodie that contrasted his light green shorts. Nerd looked like a fucking watermelon, a stark difference from Katsuki's outfit of a simple grey sweatshirt and black joggers.

 Deku scanned his parents' faces with skyrocketing enthusiasm but faltered slightly when his gaze landed on Katsuki. Katsuki could feel himself bristle slightly and gripped his biceps harshly to keep from acting out.

  The nerd didn't even fucking know I was coming? How the hell had he missed that memo?

 Deku recovered quickly, adorning a facade that hid his nervousness poorly and hastily welcomed them inside. Katsuki dragged his feet on the thinning carpet as he stepped inside and glanced around the living room. It'd been a long time since he'd been in this house.

 Everything was in place- the house impeccably clean and the furniture looking as if it'd never even been touched. There was a small bookshelf that had obviously been cleaned recently but the small coating of dust covering the spines of the books crammed in it betrayed how much it was actually used. There were picture frames sitting neatly on just about every flat surface and more hung up on the walls. There were pictures of a young Deku everywhere and even more of Deku and Auntie together, but there was only one that included Hisashi.

 It sat on the coffee table, dust coating the edges of the stand on the back of the black frame. The picture itself had obviously been torn and taped back together. There was a thin line cutting through Hisashi's shoulder, separating his form from Deku's small, smiling figure and Auntie, and the tape, despite being clear, was easy to see. It had been placed sloppily, the pieces overlapping in some places and folding over in others. A job done by Deku, no doubt.