He turned off the lights, plugged in his husband's phone, set his alarm, and sat himself on the edge of the bed, staring down at the heavy sheaf of papers that lived in his nightstand drawer.

Another night. He'd tell Katsuki another night.

Eijirou tucked the papers away, crawled under the covers, and curled into Katsuki's back. His own tears were quiet as they fell, muted, almost gentle in the stillness of the night.

When Katsuki woke, Eijirou was gone.

Three years passed without a word. Not to Katsuki, not to anyone else.

It was as if he'd simply vanished.

Three years and one day later, Katsuki received a note.

It was hand written in firm, steady kanji. It said one thing.

"I choose to love you, too."

Katsuki had it analyzed by every quirk specialist he could bribe, bully, and beg.

No one could figure out where it came from.

Four months later, Katsuki got a call.

The voice was strange, distorted, as if yelled from the bottom of a well.

"I'm trying. Wait for me. I love you."

He broke down right there in the middle of the street, screamed and cried and begged.

It was Eijirou.

"Give him back to me!" he wailed, heartbroken all over again.

- 1 year later -

Katsuki sprinted down the alley, dodging stray bullets as the thief panicked, apparently not expecting THE Ground Zero to come after him.

The man stumbled around the turn, ducking blindly into the busy street as if the crowd would protect him. Katsuki rolled his eyes and shot himself into the air, almost bored as he arrowed himself down onto the thief's back.

He never landed the hit.

Something struck him, knocked him clear out of the sky and slammed him into a nearby car.

Katsuki couldn't breath.

He'd taken hits like that before, knew them intimately.

He staggered to his feet, wincing at the painful grating of a broken rib and praying desperately that he was wrong.

There was no one there.

Katsuki spun wildly, searching for red, red anywhere, but no. Nothing.

Just a sea of confused citizens watching cautiously, not sure what was happening.

---

Eijirou fell to his knees, retching hard as the dizziness struck him full on. There was nothing in his stomach to heave, and eventually his body gave up.

He'd been so close, so /fucking/ close that time!

He pounded a hardened fist into the street, watched the pavement buckle and spiderweb under his knuckles before reversing, seamlessly flowing back into its undamaged state.

He did it again, and again and again and again, until the nausea was too much to ignore.

As if to taunt him, the cement slowly reverted, once again untouched and unaltered.

Hot, frustrated tears poured down Eijirou's face as Katsuki, mere steps away from him, took off down the street.

---

(TBC)