[ Yuji falls into the embrace, the hand in his hair, and it feels a little bit like he's breaking, somehow, as if the weight and pressure has all suddenly become just that little bit too much.
There are people that believe in him, of course. He can list them, think of their smiles and their faces, the way they'd left him with their hopes and dreams in his hands, from 'you've got it from here' to the final connection between two people, his and Higuruma-san's gazes finally meeting for the first time right before Sukuna came for him. Yuji knows how it feels to be believed in, just as he knows how it feels to let those people down.
Bakugo's arms around him feel like floating in the ocean, like suddenly that weight is lifted. There's always been a comfort in a hand in his hair (Megumi does it, and Raidou does too, and sometime Nanamin or Gojo-sensei would ruffle his hair) and it soothes him, even as he breaks a little more, the tears flooding his face even as he tries to blink them away. Gojo-sensei is right to call him a crybaby: it seems like that's all he does, even now, in the middle of the corridor, emotions too intense to disappear.
There are things only he can do, and right now that is his focus. To get stronger, to fight, to have his body learn techniques here that he can try and take back with him, to grow stronger and braver and better, so that no one else has to die. The world has taken enough from them, and Yuji wants to stand between Sukuna and what little love he has left and make sure that the only cost is his own. No one else will ever have to feel the grief and pain that he's felt for so, so many more months.
Slowly, as if afraid of falling to pieces in Bakugo's arms, he turns and presses his face into his friend's neck, and he lets himself cry. Just a little. Bakugo can hold him, can carry this burden, just for a few minutes. His dandelion is strong enough for that, and Yuji would never suggest otherwise. ]
That's all I wanted to do. I wanted to help people. To be strong, and be good, and die surrounded by people who loved me. I started out wanting to die without regrets, to never regret how I lived, but I... I can't do that any more.
[ A hand curls into his hair and Yuji sobs, slumping against Bakugo, trusting his friend to catch him. He knows Bakugo will, too, a belief that's ingrained in him, a trust so real that it feels as though he can hold it in his shaky hands and press it against his chest, to hold onto it with a grip so solid it would leave marks.
His hands grip at the back of his friend's shirt, his eyes, damp, stain his neck, the collar of his shirt, but Yuji can't help but hold on. He's been keeping himself together for weeks, but even he isn't strong enough to ignore all of his pain forever. ]
Please believe in me. Don't give up on me, Katsuki. I'll be good enough, I'll be strong enough... I want to come back to you and tell you that I did it. So wait for me, okay? I'll show you that your faith wasn't misplaced. That I'll... I'll do the best that I can.
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There are people that believe in him, of course. He can list them, think of their smiles and their faces, the way they'd left him with their hopes and dreams in his hands, from 'you've got it from here' to the final connection between two people, his and Higuruma-san's gazes finally meeting for the first time right before Sukuna came for him. Yuji knows how it feels to be believed in, just as he knows how it feels to let those people down.
Bakugo's arms around him feel like floating in the ocean, like suddenly that weight is lifted. There's always been a comfort in a hand in his hair (Megumi does it, and Raidou does too, and sometime Nanamin or Gojo-sensei would ruffle his hair) and it soothes him, even as he breaks a little more, the tears flooding his face even as he tries to blink them away. Gojo-sensei is right to call him a crybaby: it seems like that's all he does, even now, in the middle of the corridor, emotions too intense to disappear.
There are things only he can do, and right now that is his focus. To get stronger, to fight, to have his body learn techniques here that he can try and take back with him, to grow stronger and braver and better, so that no one else has to die. The world has taken enough from them, and Yuji wants to stand between Sukuna and what little love he has left and make sure that the only cost is his own. No one else will ever have to feel the grief and pain that he's felt for so, so many more months.
Slowly, as if afraid of falling to pieces in Bakugo's arms, he turns and presses his face into his friend's neck, and he lets himself cry. Just a little. Bakugo can hold him, can carry this burden, just for a few minutes. His dandelion is strong enough for that, and Yuji would never suggest otherwise. ]
That's all I wanted to do. I wanted to help people. To be strong, and be good, and die surrounded by people who loved me. I started out wanting to die without regrets, to never regret how I lived, but I... I can't do that any more.
[ A hand curls into his hair and Yuji sobs, slumping against Bakugo, trusting his friend to catch him. He knows Bakugo will, too, a belief that's ingrained in him, a trust so real that it feels as though he can hold it in his shaky hands and press it against his chest, to hold onto it with a grip so solid it would leave marks.
His hands grip at the back of his friend's shirt, his eyes, damp, stain his neck, the collar of his shirt, but Yuji can't help but hold on. He's been keeping himself together for weeks, but even he isn't strong enough to ignore all of his pain forever. ]
Please believe in me. Don't give up on me, Katsuki. I'll be good enough, I'll be strong enough... I want to come back to you and tell you that I did it. So wait for me, okay? I'll show you that your faith wasn't misplaced. That I'll... I'll do the best that I can.