to love feels so vain,

My sleep and strength are torn apart by rage.

Feels like the more I reach, the more I strain,

When will my stiffened past lay away?

If being with you is the height of it all,

How painful will it be for the fall?

A part of me thinks you hinder my thrall--

It feels way too easy to give you a call.

A week felt like a long time, but it simultaneously felt like a nanosecond. Izuku discovered within that time-warped period that in the blink of an eye, Katsuki had become woven into him, invading the way he thought. It was unnerving to him, but a part of him didn't mind one bit.

His days were significantly more silent, more so than usual. His nights were spent questioning if he was being a tad dramatic, or if his decision to push Katsuki away was justified. He spent a lot of time scrutinizing himself and picking apart the paranoia that his childhood sowed into him.

Tonight was no different. Usually, Fridays would be spent with Katsuki, but this time was different. Izuku didn't think he'd be able to ease into Ejiro's company as fast as he did without the presence of Bakugou, but he was proven wrong. Kirishima's charisma was impressive like that.

The night was silent and the air was thick with something. It wasn't discomfort, awkwardness, or even blunt smoke. It was a vulnerability. Pain. Why was he here? With Katsuki's closest friend? The guy was nice enough to be considered his own friend, sure, but something didn't sit right with Izuku. He had Ochako and Iida. Hell, even speaking to Denki was a tad better. But Izuku found himself taking up an offer proposed by Kirishima.

"Let's hang and stuff! I haven't seen you in a while, bro. Let's catch up!" He had said.

Yeah, sure. The reason for my absence is clear as day, and we both know you know, Izuku thought. I know you just wanna mend my relationship with Kacc- Katsuki.

"Okay," Izuku had replied instead.

So now, they sat on Kirishima's dorm corridor, under the blanket of stars above. Kirishima was oddly quiet, perhaps contemplative. His bright, cherry red hair was down in soft waves, and his demeanor was...calm. Izuku found himself appreciating the scar adorning his brow bone, along with his wine-red eyes. Eyes that were the same color as Katsuki's. Izuku almost frowned at his thought process but breathed it off. The thoughts came offhandedly, but he decided to let it go.

Finally, Kirishima spoke up.

"So, haven't seen you in a while. How're you holding up?"

Izuku sighed, returning his gaze to the sky. He knew where this was inevitably going. "Pretty good."

Casting him a side glance, Kirishima rubbed at his chin. "That's not really true, is it?"

With a small nervous chuckle, Izuku decided to drop the act. Suddenly, the dirt under him seemed way more interesting. He shook his head, his lips wobbling. "It's not."

Kirishima hummed, wrapping an arm around Izuku's shoulder to comfort him. "I thought so. What's going on?"

Izuku shrugged. A part of him thought it really wasn't a big deal, but he couldn't help how weak he felt. It was a clusterfuck of emotions and a can of worms he refused to open, despite knowing he had to sooner or later. With a small sniffle, he sighed. "I've been avoiding everyone lately, especially him. I'm sure you know why."

"So you haven't been talking to your friends either, huh," Kirishima muttered to himself. He knew a lot more than Izuku was letting on, he always did after all, but he decided it'd be best to hear from the guy himself.

"No. It's just...I don't wanna bother anyone with my issues. Ochako and Iida are busy, anyway-"

Kirishima laughed a little. "I think they'd be offended to hear you say that. You know they'd make time for you, right?"

Izuku frowned, his lips sinking in slight irritation. "But it's a lot of shit, I don't want to dump everything unto them, Kirishima. You get it, don't you?"

"I do," Kirishima affirmed, looking at Izuku a bit. "It's not just Bakugou, is it? There's been other things that you've been trying to work through on your own, things that seem too big now that your break with Bakugou is piled on top of it. Am I right?"

Izuku chuckled. "Spot on. Is he feeding you my business or something?"

"No!" Kirishima exclaimed a little, lowering his head so that he could look at Izuku with sincerity. "I'm just observant, honestly." He sighed. "I know the...other topic is touchy though, so I'm not going to try prying into that."

"Well, thanks for the concern I guess," Izuku said tiredly. "Honestly, I'm just trying to figure out how I tell 'Chako and Iida about him. They were always kind of skeptical, and I feel like I'd be proving them right or something. I... don't want them to get the wrong idea."

"If that's the case, then you're not as angry at Bakugou as you probably want to be, Midoriya," Kirishima offered. "And that's okay, you know."

"Well, I'm not letting him in on that," Izuku shrugged. "I know Kacchan probably doesn't deserve the treatment I'm giving him, but I can't help it."

"What makes you think he doesn't deserve it?" Kirishima asked, clearly prodding Izuku to realize something.

"I don't know. Well, I mean, a part of me really believes he wouldn't mess around with Camie, but I can't let myself be naive. I want him to help me through what's been going on in my head lately, but I have to be rational." Izuku stared at the sky. Kirishima hummed in understanding.

"My word probably doesn't mean anything, but I doubt Bakugou would do that to you. I'm pretty close to him, and as far as I know, he hasn't spoken to Camie for about a month or so now. You're not being paranoid or unreasonable by choosing to distance yourself, but you're not being naive by accepting him again either." Kirishima gave Izuku a knowing look, making the latter huff.

"What're you implying?" Izuku asked.

"I guess I just mean you can't really go wrong with either choice, dude," Kirishima said.

"It's not that simple."

Kirishima grinned wolfishly. "What if it is?"

Izuku shook his head, fighting back the infectious energy Ejirou radiated. "Shut up, you're probably just doing this because he's your friend. You're trying to be a wingman or something."

"I won't deny that seeing you two together again would be great," Kirishima said, leaning back, "but I want what's best for you, too. If it's easier to stop seeing him, then kudos to you. But if you know there's unrest, you shouldn't stifle what you feel. Tell him why you feel how you feel. Let him know."

"Tell him, huh?" Izuku muttered. He adjusted the thick material of his forest green sweater, shivering a little from the cold. It was getting late, at least by his standards. "You're making it sound simple, but okay, I guess."

The walk back to Izuku's room was spent in silence and anxiety. Kirishima was there with him, understanding his paranoia of being alone in the dark.

There was something comfortable in the dark though, something that was easy to doze off into. Izuku's week had been spent in comfortable fear. It was okay to be jumpy and distant. Sometimes he'd wish that someone would assault him just so he'd prove his paranoia to be justified. But then that thought added another layer of fear. He was trapped within himself. There was comfort in that, he supposed. He had been a very anxious person for a very long time, after all.

They arrived at his door in a reasonably short time, though Izuku had insisted walking him to the complex was enough. Kirishima smiled softly, roping Izuku in for a comforting hug. "I'm glad we talked, dude," he said. "Don't bury yourself under whatever pressure you're dealing with. Call me or something, okay?"

Izuku chuckled a little, allowing Kirishima's tight bear hug grip to swallow him. "Okay, okay, I got it. Thanks."

After exchanging goodbyes, Izuku wandered into his room, locking himself in before throwing his weight onto the bed. Breaking the little routine he'd been in felt exhausting.

With a small sigh, he rolled onto his back, pulling his phone out of his pocket. First, he texted Kirishima to make sure he got back to his place okay. Then, he spent an uncomfortably large amount of time staring at a certain contact.

Katsuki. Or, alternatively, Kacchan, as he had grown used to calling him.

"Tell him why you feel how you feel," Kirishima had said. It was weird; Izuku knew what he felt and why, but he didn't know how to articulate it. But talking with Kirishima made him realize that that didn't matter. He didn't need to be absolutely clear about every single thing. He just needed to be honest.

With that thought lingering at the back of his mind, he dialed the number, his breath hitching nervously in his throat. He glanced at the time. It was only 8 p.m.

He pressed the phone to his ear, not allowing himself to think as he waited. A small part of him hoped Katsuki wouldn't pick up.

But he did.

"Izuku....?" Katsuki's voice was low and strained, but suprised and relieved. Like he had been waiting for a call for weeks. "Hi," he said meekly.

It was funny how they only took a relatively small break, yet it felt like months. Maybe it was equally painful for the both of them. Maybe Izuku wasn't doing himself any favors to begin with.

Izuku stared at his ceiling, inhaling deeply. "Hey."

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