✓THE SPACE BETWEEN THE STARS|| BakuDeku Au

Chapter Seventeen: . . . No Matter How Far.

Can I↲
Tedy

"Can I trust you? Does your smile hide lies? Can I jump in, and close my eyes . . . ?"

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[ Two Years and Eleven Months Ago ]

It was days like this—when the heart weighed heavily in its cage with a low buzzing pulse, twisting over-emotional thoughts into the brain—when time was both an enemy and an ally. There were those unfortunate souls who begged for more time, time to finish a paper, time to get some sleep, more time left with a loved one. Only to never receive the one simple thing they wanted nothing more to have—and then there were the fortunate people amongst the crowd who got what they wished for.

Katsuki Bakugou was not one of those fortunate people. 

No, in fact, the young seventeen, soon to be, eighteen-year-old was the exact opposite.

His limbs ached with desolation and numbed pain as he lay silently in his bed. The mid-morning sun glistened like a waterfall of light into his room, cascading down his blank expression like a halo. And for a split heart-breaking second, he imagined it was the halo—the halo of his love, his best friend, his angel—of his Izuku attempting to cheer him up. But he pushed those thoughts aside, deeming them too silly.

The distant clatter of pots and pans clanging sounded from downstairs in the kitchen, no doubt his father and adopted siblings trying yet again to brighten his face with homemade breakfast. A breakfast which they usually burnt due to Kaminari's carelessness.

Katsuki turned to his right, back stiff and aching, and his hand lightly roamed across the vast space. He had never noticed how large his bed was until now. Well, as large as a full-sized bed could get. The young man had grown so used to waking up halfway off the bed, a small-framed body draped across him and drooling on his back. Katsuki longed for the mornings when Izuku had sprawled himself across his chest—awakened by a mop of emerald curls.

He shuddered: cold. Again, he never noticed how cold the house was in the morning.

Finally, he let his eyes slip close, delving into his daily 'ritual' of denial. Becoming perfectly still, he imagined a clear image of Izuku's face in his mind, slightly shielded by the light the curtains let in. Absolutely breathtaking. In those few minutes, he allowed himself to trick his mind into thinking it was all a dream, that Izuku was alive and resting happily in his arms.

A dimpled smile perked properly on his cheeks, which were dusted with freckles and blush. He imagined how deep and groggy his voice got in the mornings, eyelids fluttering slowly as he adjusted to being awake. 

And slowly a taunting smile would replace his soft one as he'd whisper. "Good morning, Kacchan," planting a soft kiss to his cheek, his lips, his neck. 

Two large pools of amber-red eyes unwillingly flew open, ending his daydream and setting him back to his reality. Izuku was dead and there was nothing he could do about it.

His door creaked open and Katsuki braced himself for the onslaught of carefully crafted speeches his father would give him and the tentative hugs his siblings would bring along with him. However, instead, he was faced with his brother, Shinsou, alone and quietly teetering back and forth on the threshold.

"You gonna keep looking like a dumbass or are you going to come in?" Katsuki quipped, shooting him a weak smile. 

"Does it bring you joy to be such an ass all the time?"

Katsuki sat up, feeling the weight on his face as he slipped on his usual façade. "Why yes. Yes, it does."

Shinsou was quiet as he sat down on the left side of the bed, padding softly at the empty pillow where Izuku's head once rested. Truth be told he stopped crying over it weeks ago—not that he was over it, hell none of them were—because he had no tears left to cry. He had exhausted his supply of tears and all he was left with was a carved out hole in his heart where his 'brother' used to be.