[ The problem with Yuji remains the way his heart beats and breaks for people: because he has dedicated his life to saving them, to giving them all that he can, everything that he can, choosing that to become his role and his purpose.
Fighting Sukuna doesn't feel as frightening to him as perhaps he should. It's terrifying, of course it is, to fight the King of Curses, the creature that had stolen Gojo-sensei away from him, who had ripped him to shreds and had been a constant thorn in his side. Sukuna had lived in his mind for months, had tried to make him feel that strange, twisting guilt that had eaten him from the inside out, and Yuji had come to know him well enough - well enough to know that he would never stop. He would keep hurting Fushiguro, would keep tearing him apart and destroying the remains of his soul, and thus Yuji would have to fight all the harder to save him.
It's simple to say that's his reason for living, and other people might think that it's a bit narrow-minded of him, but to Yuji it's that easy. Fushiguro Megumi had given him a purpose when he had asked him to 'start by saving me', had given him a reason to continue to fight after all his losses in Shibuya, when he had wanted nothing more than to die. Even now, that echoes in his mind, tears him into a thousand pieces, leaving him broken and wounded and hurting: just him. He is the only person who should have died on that day. His fingers bleeding in the dirty gravel, his hand shaking, mouth tasting like vomit - only him.
Yuji isn't going to get to choose how he dies, not really. It's not up to him to decide how it's going to end. He had known from the first moment that he entered the world of Jujutsu Sorcery that he was going to be subject to execution, so all the hours he spent with the people he loved had felt like borrowed time, had felt like a gift on top of everything else. Why would he ever want to ask for more than that, when he had already been given enough? To be able to be friends with Megumi, with Kugisaki, to meet people like Gojo-sensei, and Nanamin, and Junpei, to know Higuruma-san and Yuta-senpai, see people like Maki-senpai stand tall and strong despite loss...
Coming here, to Neo Tokyo, has changed him a little. He understands, now, more about the kind of damage he causes to people with his mindset, so he is doing what he can to reshape it, to adjust. Not to hope for a better future, necessarily, or to imagine that he'll be able to outlive this fight with Sukuna, but to consider himself a little more. When he fights in missions, when he throws himself into the deep end, when he takes those upgrades without considering the damage it might do in the long run... He can consider what other people might be feeling, because he empathises. He's seen so much hurt and death that he wants to spare his friends that pain, wants to make sure that they never have to experience it because of him.
There's a level of guilt that comes from doing this, as there always will be, but Yuji is starting to put the pieces together. Bakugo is strong, one of the strongest people he's met, and that means he can handle this, just as he wants to handle things for his friend. The idea of this boy being hurt because of him, feeling the same pain and grief he felt when Megumi, Raidou or Kugisaki got hurt is intolerable, and he's had to force himself to rethink his actions. That, plus the previous mission... Is it time that he starts to take more care of himself, starts to reconsider the depth of the danger he puts himself in?
(There are some things he'll still have to do: he'll still fight to get stronger, get the upgrades that seem worth it, so his body can adjust and grow, so that he can relish the chance to be someone better, but he'll think. He'll message. He'll try harder.)
For all that he is growing internally, Yuji knows it's not good enough just yet. He sinks into Bakugo's embrace and allows himself a moment to just cry, to let all the weight of his sadness and grief slip away and fall into Bakugo's arms. For now, perhaps for just this moment, he can allow himself to rely on one of his friends, and maybe that will pave the way for more honesty with the others. Megumi, Kugisaki, Raidou, Gojo-sensei - maybe they can get their share of insights into the depths of just how miserable and broken Yuji Itadori is, more often than not, how his grief has reshaped him and moulded him into someone that lives for a singular purpose.
Does this mean he's rationalised his feelings for Bakugo, that he's thought about the depth of affection? No. In a few short months, this person has become so important to him, reaching the tiers of friendship that he'd never had before, and the thought settles in his mind like a puzzle piece, like it was meant to fit there: I'd die for you too. If, for some reason, it was necessary... Yuji Itadori would die for Katsuki Bakugo, even if his friend would bring him back to kill him for it. Trust like that is borne out of all of these things, and the heart of it is this empathy and understanding that Yuji could never doubt for even a moment.
His grip on his friend doesn't ease, doesn't settle, doesn't relax. If anything, it tightens, and with Yuji's strength it might be enough to hurt a regular person. It's as if the idea of letting go terrifies him, as if he feels like he might somehow disappear and drown in his own misery, or he might just collapse to the ground under the weight of all his own heartache. He doesn't want to keep crying, but it's hard not to when Bakugo - when Katsuki is offering him solace. The others do, this isn't an isolated moment, but Yuji is keeping so many secrets for himself and Gojo-sensei that it's hard to admit it all to anyone else. It's hard to allow himself to speak in real words the hell that he has found himself tied up in, Sukuna's laughter an echo in his mind.
Eventually, the tears do stop, but he doesn't let go of Katsuki, doesn't let himself do anything except lean into him and rest his body against him, taking a little control back. It's a softer embrace now, less sad and desperate and more filled with gratefulness and a flickering sense of contentment and joy, knowing that they're safe together. That they're able to take care of one another, that when he needs it, Katsuki will be here - and Yuji will be here for him, too. It's especially true when he feels that little smile against his body.
Yuji smiles all the time, bright and brilliant, some real, some fake, as if the idea of not smiling would curse others. Katsuki grins, but his smiles are rarer, and Yuji is glad he gets to have this little one for himself, even if it's just for a fleeting moment. He's happy, to have a friend like this, even if he doesn't think he deserves it even a little. There is no world where he would ever be a good enough person to have people like Katsuki and Megumi and Raidou and the others in his life. There's no way he's a good enough person to be this loved.
Nodding his head, he breathes out a shaky sigh against Katsuki's body, eyes still closed, voice a little hoarse from the tears and the new cotton feeling in his throat. ]
Isn't it about time I cried happy tears around you, dandelion? [ He's still gripping at his shirt... He's definitely ruined this one for the day. ] I want the first time you see me next time to be a Yuji who can smile at you, though. So that you know that I held on for as long as I could, and I did the best that I could, and in the end I was a hero of my own making.
[ That it wasn't from Sukuna's powers, or eating his siblings, or from borrowed strength. That he can use what he has, that only he has, to bring Megumi Fushiguro back and save the centre of his entire universe. ]
You can still hit me and call me stupid, though, dandelion.
[Problem. Is it a problem. Yeah, it is in someways. That reckless disregard for his own safety when it comes to helping other people because of that bleeding heart is never going to not be problematic. And yet it's something people who care about Yuji simply have to accept.
Katsuki's aware of the "frozen" state of their world back home, thanks to Yuji and Denji's experiences of going back home and returning to this world. But that can never completely eradicate the concern he feels towards those left behind. All Might's broken and bleeding body, safe behind Katsuki's back-from-the-dead stance, but for how long. Izuku still trapped in mortal combat with Shigaraki, whose mere touch could wipe out miles of Japanese land. All for One, the deadliest villain ever, hovering not far off and threatening to merge with Shigaraki to end the world as they knew it. The broken, the bleeding, the dying, the suffering heroes and villains that lay in states of victory and defeat all around the nation. Innocent civilians and people watching them fight for the sake of their world... All of that trapped in suspended time, ready to start again once "he" ceased to exist in Neo Tokyo.
How the fuck is that comforting?
Even now, Katsuki can still taste blood in his mouth if he thinks about the last moment he had in his world. Yuji's weight is different, just as heavy, carrying a burden of guilt and determination, war-ravaged hope narrowed down to a single life as his goal to save, and somewhere along the way thinking this penance for a death he skipped out on. Katsuki has never once wished to die. No matter his fear, pain, sorrow, or struggle, he determined to overcome the trials and move forward. But not everyone's like that. That's fine. If he's with one of those people, Katsuki vows to slug them in the face and haul their ass up by their collar to yell at them about why they should continue to live.
Yuji should be able to choose how he dies. He'll never accept anything less than that. If it meant standing between the entire Jujutsu world and his friend, Katsuki would take that stance every time, as long as possible, until he perished first. And even then, he'd sure as hell try to take them out with one last explosion. So long as it meant Yuji got to live. It's a pleasant thought, to strive to live a life so well you get to die surrounded by people who love you. But he'd rather live with those people as long as possible, and fight to keep that life going. Old age comes for everyone in the end. No point in hurrying the Grim Reaper along.
Katsuki's watched the sorcerer grow a little here, seen an honest attempt to at least take more people into consideration when he dives into decisions that could satisfy his desire to protect, yet hurt those who love him in the same stroke. It's a fine Catch 22 in that aspect the boy's set himself up for. Katsuki can't live Yuji's life for him, won't, but isn't going to stop growling at him for making those rash decisions. While he can't raze him for wanting to spare someone else the suffering, he will snarl at him for not trusting someone else's strength and resilience. Too much empathy ends up doing nothing more than removing someone else's choices with the excuse of protection. No one wants to be smothered. Pain by itself isn't evil. Katsuki's not lacking in empathy, but he's also more than willing to let someone drop a piano on their foot because they tried to move it by themself.
The problem with Yuji's thoughts of protecting him stem from Katsuki taking offense at the idea his friend thinks he's too weak to handle the trial before them. Protection clashes with his pride, though he's gotten better at accepting this as the year at U.A. went on. Doesn't mean he likes it. Yet so far, Yuji's not been the cause of Katsuki's pain. Frustrations? Sure, a million damn times. When he makes rash decisions, gets himself hurt, bottles up his pain... Does he not trust his strength to weather it? Mah, who knows. It's not like Katsuki's absolved of doing the same in his own ways. At some point, they're going to come to a head about this and it won't be pretty... but it'll be needed. Katsuki has never been one to stand behind a shield. He'd much rather stand beside an ally.
(He's gonna murder him for this new implant, but that'll come after he finishes dealing with his babbling bleeding brother bundled in the bloody bathtub. Which once again having second thoughts about a healing implant.)
Each moment here is a quiet reminder that they're never going to be good enough. No one's perfect. Katsuki holds onto Yuji with no intention of letting him go, taking each tear and weight that seeps into his collar and tugs at his arms. A hero does his best to remove the sadness and fears of those they help. And yet, for all his power, Katsuki's aware he can't reach inside Yuji and pull out all those traumas causing his sorrow. Fucking hell he wishes he could. To promise this boy a future where he can smile with no more worry or loss. He'd take on all his misery and agony if he could, either to carry the burden for him or smash it into smithereens that never haunt Yuji again.
Unfortunately, life's not like that. What Katsuki can do right now is hold him. Carefully handle the broken and rest the pieces together once more. If grief breaks Yuji further, love and kindness can bandage the area and support until it heals. He can do that. Extend his hand into the darkness, pushing and shoving each grieving slash and burning tear aside until he finds the boy in the middle of the maelstromic pit. Catches him. Holds him tight. Not alone. Not weak. It hurts, badly, but he moves with him, trying his damnest to help Yuji walk towards that light. Against all odds. To victory.
Don't die for me. Live for me. That's all he wants. Every feeling he has for this boy pounds down into a final point and crystalizes into one desire. Frustration, affection, curiosity, attraction, anger, happiness, an urge to save his life. It's only been a few months, and Katsuki's found this guy settled in beside his heart to such a point he feels for him things he hasn't for others. He has no intention of ever letting himself be at a point where Yuji would need to even think about such a sacrifice. To let his friend die for him would be a price Katsuki could never pay. Dying hurts like a fucking bitch. And while he would never want anyone to die for him, this intense want to protect blooms for the layers upon layers of friendship, kindness, and trust poured into him but this special boy. So much given to him. How could he do anything but give back the same in return. He'd face down hell itself to make sure Yuji lives.
Katsuki keeps the grunt in his head. He's been grabbed by All Might before, even when severely limited in power and holding back, and Yuji's strength feels comparable. But he bears it without a flicker of discomfort. He's got muscles. He refuses to let his friend hurt him. No matter how tight Yuji has to hold onto him, he stands strong, spreading his fingers over the back of his head and curling them in soothing motions, the hand around his shoulders doing the same as it wanders from shoulder to shoulder blade to middle of back to blade to joint once more. Never leaving that embrace. He'll hold him above his misery, above his vanishing, above his heartache. As long as he needs to for Yuji to regain his strength. Because Yuji is strong, resilient, and unwavering. He trusts him in that, no matter what tears fall. He's only human. Treasured.
Can he tell when Yuji stops crying? Not really. His shirt's damp. But eventually shoulders cease to shiver, those quiet shudders of breath ease, and new gushes of heat taper off. Held close, knees brushing, legs braced, feet instep, arms and head resting together in that protective circle. Letting Yuji lean and take in the comfort and solace. Akin to that time on the boat during the orca kaiju fight, when Yuji healed him and Katsuki finally let himself rest enough to lean against the sorcerer, relying on his strength to support him. Tears can't last forever. Grief is given its due, not a blank check. As the embrace eases up, Katsuki's little hand motions continue their trek. Safe. A storm slowly passing. So this is what it means to be there for someone...
The smile comes quietly, short for a time, but true. A friend like Yuji is one in a million. No matter what the other boy believes about himself, deserving of friends or not, luckily for him, those friends, Katsuki included, don't ascribe to what Yuji thinks about deserving them. They're his friends, the love him, and he's a good person. Period. Yuji will change his mind about that long before they do. Katsuki certainly intends to out-stubborn the guy in this regard. Because Yuji deserves to be loved. It's a good thing the sorcerer doesn't get to decide that for others.
Katsuki opens his eyes again, pink strands tickling the underside of his nose and the sides of his cheeks as he leaves his mouth rested against that ruffle of hair. No wonder Yuji's voice sounds rough.]
You will. [In time. Yuji will. Now is not the time. Sadness and painful tears soak into his shirt, but the source has calmed enough for now. He gives a light squeeze on the back of Yuji's head, fingers threading through the soft sakura there, ring and fifth fingers caressing the dark shorn of his undercut.] Aa. Keep wanting that. And show me that smile the next time we meet again, hero. [He brushes his lips against Yuji's head again, eyes lidding slightly. Those feelings are there. They always will be. He wants to see that sight too. Yuji's victory and life.]
Don't give me a reason to, Gari Head. [Katsuki tightens his arm around Yuji in a quick, affirming embrace. He isn't ever going to give up on him. He'll always trust that Yuji's going to win and save as many as he can.]
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blastedass) wrote2020-08-08 04:37 pm
me vibrating all day at work to reply to this
Fighting Sukuna doesn't feel as frightening to him as perhaps he should. It's terrifying, of course it is, to fight the King of Curses, the creature that had stolen Gojo-sensei away from him, who had ripped him to shreds and had been a constant thorn in his side. Sukuna had lived in his mind for months, had tried to make him feel that strange, twisting guilt that had eaten him from the inside out, and Yuji had come to know him well enough - well enough to know that he would never stop. He would keep hurting Fushiguro, would keep tearing him apart and destroying the remains of his soul, and thus Yuji would have to fight all the harder to save him.
It's simple to say that's his reason for living, and other people might think that it's a bit narrow-minded of him, but to Yuji it's that easy. Fushiguro Megumi had given him a purpose when he had asked him to 'start by saving me', had given him a reason to continue to fight after all his losses in Shibuya, when he had wanted nothing more than to die. Even now, that echoes in his mind, tears him into a thousand pieces, leaving him broken and wounded and hurting: just him. He is the only person who should have died on that day. His fingers bleeding in the dirty gravel, his hand shaking, mouth tasting like vomit - only him.
Yuji isn't going to get to choose how he dies, not really. It's not up to him to decide how it's going to end. He had known from the first moment that he entered the world of Jujutsu Sorcery that he was going to be subject to execution, so all the hours he spent with the people he loved had felt like borrowed time, had felt like a gift on top of everything else. Why would he ever want to ask for more than that, when he had already been given enough? To be able to be friends with Megumi, with Kugisaki, to meet people like Gojo-sensei, and Nanamin, and Junpei, to know Higuruma-san and Yuta-senpai, see people like Maki-senpai stand tall and strong despite loss...
Coming here, to Neo Tokyo, has changed him a little. He understands, now, more about the kind of damage he causes to people with his mindset, so he is doing what he can to reshape it, to adjust. Not to hope for a better future, necessarily, or to imagine that he'll be able to outlive this fight with Sukuna, but to consider himself a little more. When he fights in missions, when he throws himself into the deep end, when he takes those upgrades without considering the damage it might do in the long run... He can consider what other people might be feeling, because he empathises. He's seen so much hurt and death that he wants to spare his friends that pain, wants to make sure that they never have to experience it because of him.
There's a level of guilt that comes from doing this, as there always will be, but Yuji is starting to put the pieces together. Bakugo is strong, one of the strongest people he's met, and that means he can handle this, just as he wants to handle things for his friend. The idea of this boy being hurt because of him, feeling the same pain and grief he felt when Megumi, Raidou or Kugisaki got hurt is intolerable, and he's had to force himself to rethink his actions. That, plus the previous mission... Is it time that he starts to take more care of himself, starts to reconsider the depth of the danger he puts himself in?
(There are some things he'll still have to do: he'll still fight to get stronger, get the upgrades that seem worth it, so his body can adjust and grow, so that he can relish the chance to be someone better, but he'll think. He'll message. He'll try harder.)
For all that he is growing internally, Yuji knows it's not good enough just yet. He sinks into Bakugo's embrace and allows himself a moment to just cry, to let all the weight of his sadness and grief slip away and fall into Bakugo's arms. For now, perhaps for just this moment, he can allow himself to rely on one of his friends, and maybe that will pave the way for more honesty with the others. Megumi, Kugisaki, Raidou, Gojo-sensei - maybe they can get their share of insights into the depths of just how miserable and broken Yuji Itadori is, more often than not, how his grief has reshaped him and moulded him into someone that lives for a singular purpose.
Does this mean he's rationalised his feelings for Bakugo, that he's thought about the depth of affection? No. In a few short months, this person has become so important to him, reaching the tiers of friendship that he'd never had before, and the thought settles in his mind like a puzzle piece, like it was meant to fit there: I'd die for you too. If, for some reason, it was necessary... Yuji Itadori would die for Katsuki Bakugo, even if his friend would bring him back to kill him for it. Trust like that is borne out of all of these things, and the heart of it is this empathy and understanding that Yuji could never doubt for even a moment.
His grip on his friend doesn't ease, doesn't settle, doesn't relax. If anything, it tightens, and with Yuji's strength it might be enough to hurt a regular person. It's as if the idea of letting go terrifies him, as if he feels like he might somehow disappear and drown in his own misery, or he might just collapse to the ground under the weight of all his own heartache. He doesn't want to keep crying, but it's hard not to when Bakugo - when Katsuki is offering him solace. The others do, this isn't an isolated moment, but Yuji is keeping so many secrets for himself and Gojo-sensei that it's hard to admit it all to anyone else. It's hard to allow himself to speak in real words the hell that he has found himself tied up in, Sukuna's laughter an echo in his mind.
Eventually, the tears do stop, but he doesn't let go of Katsuki, doesn't let himself do anything except lean into him and rest his body against him, taking a little control back. It's a softer embrace now, less sad and desperate and more filled with gratefulness and a flickering sense of contentment and joy, knowing that they're safe together. That they're able to take care of one another, that when he needs it, Katsuki will be here - and Yuji will be here for him, too. It's especially true when he feels that little smile against his body.
Yuji smiles all the time, bright and brilliant, some real, some fake, as if the idea of not smiling would curse others. Katsuki grins, but his smiles are rarer, and Yuji is glad he gets to have this little one for himself, even if it's just for a fleeting moment. He's happy, to have a friend like this, even if he doesn't think he deserves it even a little. There is no world where he would ever be a good enough person to have people like Katsuki and Megumi and Raidou and the others in his life. There's no way he's a good enough person to be this loved.
Nodding his head, he breathes out a shaky sigh against Katsuki's body, eyes still closed, voice a little hoarse from the tears and the new cotton feeling in his throat. ]
Isn't it about time I cried happy tears around you, dandelion? [ He's still gripping at his shirt... He's definitely ruined this one for the day. ] I want the first time you see me next time to be a Yuji who can smile at you, though. So that you know that I held on for as long as I could, and I did the best that I could, and in the end I was a hero of my own making.
[ That it wasn't from Sukuna's powers, or eating his siblings, or from borrowed strength. That he can use what he has, that only he has, to bring Megumi Fushiguro back and save the centre of his entire universe. ]
You can still hit me and call me stupid, though, dandelion.
spills it all over this tag
Katsuki's aware of the "frozen" state of their world back home, thanks to Yuji and Denji's experiences of going back home and returning to this world. But that can never completely eradicate the concern he feels towards those left behind. All Might's broken and bleeding body, safe behind Katsuki's back-from-the-dead stance, but for how long. Izuku still trapped in mortal combat with Shigaraki, whose mere touch could wipe out miles of Japanese land. All for One, the deadliest villain ever, hovering not far off and threatening to merge with Shigaraki to end the world as they knew it. The broken, the bleeding, the dying, the suffering heroes and villains that lay in states of victory and defeat all around the nation. Innocent civilians and people watching them fight for the sake of their world... All of that trapped in suspended time, ready to start again once "he" ceased to exist in Neo Tokyo.
How the fuck is that comforting?
Even now, Katsuki can still taste blood in his mouth if he thinks about the last moment he had in his world. Yuji's weight is different, just as heavy, carrying a burden of guilt and determination, war-ravaged hope narrowed down to a single life as his goal to save, and somewhere along the way thinking this penance for a death he skipped out on. Katsuki has never once wished to die. No matter his fear, pain, sorrow, or struggle, he determined to overcome the trials and move forward. But not everyone's like that. That's fine. If he's with one of those people, Katsuki vows to slug them in the face and haul their ass up by their collar to yell at them about why they should continue to live.
Yuji should be able to choose how he dies. He'll never accept anything less than that. If it meant standing between the entire Jujutsu world and his friend, Katsuki would take that stance every time, as long as possible, until he perished first. And even then, he'd sure as hell try to take them out with one last explosion. So long as it meant Yuji got to live. It's a pleasant thought, to strive to live a life so well you get to die surrounded by people who love you. But he'd rather live with those people as long as possible, and fight to keep that life going. Old age comes for everyone in the end. No point in hurrying the Grim Reaper along.
Katsuki's watched the sorcerer grow a little here, seen an honest attempt to at least take more people into consideration when he dives into decisions that could satisfy his desire to protect, yet hurt those who love him in the same stroke. It's a fine Catch 22 in that aspect the boy's set himself up for. Katsuki can't live Yuji's life for him, won't, but isn't going to stop growling at him for making those rash decisions. While he can't raze him for wanting to spare someone else the suffering, he will snarl at him for not trusting someone else's strength and resilience. Too much empathy ends up doing nothing more than removing someone else's choices with the excuse of protection. No one wants to be smothered. Pain by itself isn't evil. Katsuki's not lacking in empathy, but he's also more than willing to let someone drop a piano on their foot because they tried to move it by themself.
The problem with Yuji's thoughts of protecting him stem from Katsuki taking offense at the idea his friend thinks he's too weak to handle the trial before them. Protection clashes with his pride, though he's gotten better at accepting this as the year at U.A. went on. Doesn't mean he likes it. Yet so far, Yuji's not been the cause of Katsuki's pain. Frustrations? Sure, a million damn times. When he makes rash decisions, gets himself hurt, bottles up his pain... Does he not trust his strength to weather it? Mah, who knows. It's not like Katsuki's absolved of doing the same in his own ways. At some point, they're going to come to a head about this and it won't be pretty... but it'll be needed. Katsuki has never been one to stand behind a shield. He'd much rather stand beside an ally.
(He's gonna murder him for this new implant, but that'll come after he finishes dealing with his babbling bleeding brother bundled in the bloody bathtub. Which once again having second thoughts about a healing implant.)
Each moment here is a quiet reminder that they're never going to be good enough. No one's perfect. Katsuki holds onto Yuji with no intention of letting him go, taking each tear and weight that seeps into his collar and tugs at his arms. A hero does his best to remove the sadness and fears of those they help. And yet, for all his power, Katsuki's aware he can't reach inside Yuji and pull out all those traumas causing his sorrow. Fucking hell he wishes he could. To promise this boy a future where he can smile with no more worry or loss. He'd take on all his misery and agony if he could, either to carry the burden for him or smash it into smithereens that never haunt Yuji again.
Unfortunately, life's not like that. What Katsuki can do right now is hold him. Carefully handle the broken and rest the pieces together once more. If grief breaks Yuji further, love and kindness can bandage the area and support until it heals. He can do that. Extend his hand into the darkness, pushing and shoving each grieving slash and burning tear aside until he finds the boy in the middle of the maelstromic pit. Catches him. Holds him tight. Not alone. Not weak. It hurts, badly, but he moves with him, trying his damnest to help Yuji walk towards that light. Against all odds. To victory.
Don't die for me. Live for me. That's all he wants. Every feeling he has for this boy pounds down into a final point and crystalizes into one desire. Frustration, affection, curiosity, attraction, anger, happiness, an urge to save his life. It's only been a few months, and Katsuki's found this guy settled in beside his heart to such a point he feels for him things he hasn't for others. He has no intention of ever letting himself be at a point where Yuji would need to even think about such a sacrifice. To let his friend die for him would be a price Katsuki could never pay. Dying hurts like a fucking bitch. And while he would never want anyone to die for him, this intense want to protect blooms for the layers upon layers of friendship, kindness, and trust poured into him but this special boy. So much given to him. How could he do anything but give back the same in return. He'd face down hell itself to make sure Yuji lives.
Katsuki keeps the grunt in his head. He's been grabbed by All Might before, even when severely limited in power and holding back, and Yuji's strength feels comparable. But he bears it without a flicker of discomfort. He's got muscles. He refuses to let his friend hurt him. No matter how tight Yuji has to hold onto him, he stands strong, spreading his fingers over the back of his head and curling them in soothing motions, the hand around his shoulders doing the same as it wanders from shoulder to shoulder blade to middle of back to blade to joint once more. Never leaving that embrace. He'll hold him above his misery, above his vanishing, above his heartache. As long as he needs to for Yuji to regain his strength. Because Yuji is strong, resilient, and unwavering. He trusts him in that, no matter what tears fall. He's only human. Treasured.
Can he tell when Yuji stops crying? Not really. His shirt's damp. But eventually shoulders cease to shiver, those quiet shudders of breath ease, and new gushes of heat taper off. Held close, knees brushing, legs braced, feet instep, arms and head resting together in that protective circle. Letting Yuji lean and take in the comfort and solace. Akin to that time on the boat during the orca kaiju fight, when Yuji healed him and Katsuki finally let himself rest enough to lean against the sorcerer, relying on his strength to support him. Tears can't last forever. Grief is given its due, not a blank check. As the embrace eases up, Katsuki's little hand motions continue their trek. Safe. A storm slowly passing. So this is what it means to be there for someone...
The smile comes quietly, short for a time, but true. A friend like Yuji is one in a million. No matter what the other boy believes about himself, deserving of friends or not, luckily for him, those friends, Katsuki included, don't ascribe to what Yuji thinks about deserving them. They're his friends, the love him, and he's a good person. Period. Yuji will change his mind about that long before they do. Katsuki certainly intends to out-stubborn the guy in this regard. Because Yuji deserves to be loved. It's a good thing the sorcerer doesn't get to decide that for others.
Katsuki opens his eyes again, pink strands tickling the underside of his nose and the sides of his cheeks as he leaves his mouth rested against that ruffle of hair. No wonder Yuji's voice sounds rough.]
You will. [In time. Yuji will. Now is not the time. Sadness and painful tears soak into his shirt, but the source has calmed enough for now. He gives a light squeeze on the back of Yuji's head, fingers threading through the soft sakura there, ring and fifth fingers caressing the dark shorn of his undercut.] Aa. Keep wanting that. And show me that smile the next time we meet again, hero. [He brushes his lips against Yuji's head again, eyes lidding slightly. Those feelings are there. They always will be. He wants to see that sight too. Yuji's victory and life.]
Don't give me a reason to, Gari Head. [Katsuki tightens his arm around Yuji in a quick, affirming embrace. He isn't ever going to give up on him. He'll always trust that Yuji's going to win and save as many as he can.]