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In the end, it didn’t mean anything with the sight in front of him. It didn't mean anything in this single moment.
It was finally his moment to shine, finally his time to prove what class B was made of.
It all took place in a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours.
He couldn’t look away. Every part of him was telling him to look away. He knew looking away and closing his eyes would just make everything worse. He couldn’t close his eyes, and he had to witness everything.
Watching someone who he had only seen as confident and boastful taken down like that. Someone who swore he would never lose. Someone who was perhaps one of the strongest and most capable students in U.A.
To see him motionless on the ground, unfocused eyes with pro heroes surrounding the body. Neito wasn’t even sure if he had seen that much blood before. He certainly never saw anyone have their chest open and their heart crushed.
He found himself fixating on the body. It wasn’t the body of one of his classmates, but it was still the body of a fellow student, someone who was the same age as him
They both were far too young for all of this. They should be doing homework or staying up late playing video games, going to the mall with their friends. There were so many other things they should be doing. Watching a fellow schoolmate die was not on that list, nor was dying.
The moment when Neito Monoma watched Katsuki Bakugo die.
~~~~
In an instant Neito was awake. The room was dark except for the weak glow of the moon from the uncovered parts of the window. It was equally quiet, just the sounds of Katsuki sleeping beside him.
As he was slowly coming to his senses he realized how fast and uneven his breathing was. That despite the room being cool, his shirt and bangs clung to his sweat drenched body.
He didn’t move. He just kept staring forward at the empty wall across from him. No one left the war okay. Not that anyone could leave a war and be okay. Everyone saw stuff they wished they could forget.
For Neito it was watching Bakugo die. He saw his schoolmate's chest blown open, his eyes lifeless, with Best Jeanist and Edgeshot trying desperately to save him.
But Katsuki was alive. He was alive and the war was won and soon they'd be pro heros. It would all be a part of their pasts, a moment that shaped them, a moment that shaped Neito, a moment that changed Neito
Sometimes Neito could still see the scene clearly when he looked at Katsuki. He never let anyone know about that. There was no point in bringing it up and upsetting everyone all over again. And it was at least better now than it was when he and Katsuki were younger
Neito turned to face Katsuki. The other boy's chest rose and fell slowly as he slept. Katsuki's heart was still beating. The only sign that it had ever stopped was the large scar that crossed his chest, only barely visible under Katsuki's undershirt.
Neito spent far too many nights awake watching Katsuki like this, as if turning away would cause Katsuki to die all over again.
He never thought it would be such a burden to watch someone die.
~~~
Sometime after the war when he and Katsuki were second years they ran into each other. At that moment Neito realized he'd been avoiding Katsuki. It was the longest the two had maintained eye contact in a while. And for a few short seconds Neito felt Like he couldn't breath as nausea set in his stomach. He could only see the blood and dust that had covered Katsuki's body. He could only hear his own blood rushing in his head. The world around him no longer existed. Neito was back in the war that had already ended.
Oddly the thing that had brought Neito back to reality was Katsuki placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
The two boys never said anything back then, each uncharacteristically quiet.
They'd run into each other a few more times after that. Neither of them saying anything, always sharing a glance that implied something that could never be conveyed with words. And perhaps some form of mutual guilt over the fact neither was able to save the other.
It went on for a month until one day Katsuki joined Neito at lunch. At first, their usual quiet remained.
“I'm fine you know,” Katsuki was the first to speak.
Netio could only turn away from Katsuki, his gaze locked on the tray of food in front of Him, becoming slowly unappetizing.
“Monoma?” There was an edge of annoyance in Katsuki's voice.
“I know you're fine, you 2-A jerk,” Monoma didn’t look up from the table. “But,” he added in a whisper.
“But what?”
Monoma clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into his palms. He could feel his eyes begin to sting, but the last thing he wanted was to show that type of weakness to anyone in class A.
“But,” Neito whispered again, “when I look at you all I see is your blood, all I see is your chest torn open and your heart crushed.” Neito inhaled slowly, “Bakugo, whenever I look at you all I see is your corpse.”
“Well, shit,” Bakugo muttered.
“Shit indeed,” Neito replied.
The two didn't speak to each other much after that, each of their lives carrying one independent of each other.
Until one particular night. It was nearing the end of winter. Though it had begun to warm up during the day, the nights were still cold.
Neito couldn’t sleep and his room felt suffocating. It was past midnight and the rest of his classmates were asleep. He didn’t want to disturb them and figured the best place to be was outside.
The lights on the UA campus made it hard to see the stars. Yet, Neito still found himself looking up. The sky above him was the same as the sky before the war, and the same as the sky during the war. He wasn’t sure if he found comfort in the idea that some things remained the same.
“What're you doing out here so late?”
Neito tensed as he heard Katsuki's voice.
“You people form 2-A love to ruin everything, don’t you.”
“Yep,” Katsuki came up beside Neito “now answer my damn question, copycat bastard.”
“Vulgar as always,” Neito responded, shaking his head.
This was the most normal conversation he'd had with Katsuki in months. It almost reminded him of the sports festival from when they were first years. That day felt so far away, though it had only been a year ago.
If only they knew back then how everything would go.
“Not what I asked.”
Neito turned to face Katsuki, fully ready to respond in his usual condescending manner. But, Katsuki had a certain serious look in his eyes that made Neito crumble.
“Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stand being in my room,” he spoke quietly, his shoulders dropping.
When Katsuki didn't say anything, Neito continued speaking, “I didn't want to disturb anyone in class B.”
“Is that really all?”
Neito had no idea Katsuki could be like this. He was used to Katsuki behaving like his quirk: explosive, brash, arrogant, and vulgar.
It was the same way he saw Katsuki before he died.
Why did everything have to remind Neito that Katsuki died in front of him?
And Katsuki was still staring at him, as if Katsuki knew something about Neito that he didn't know or couldn't admit.
Neito didn't even notice he had started crying until he breathed in and noticed his nose was running.
And Katsuki's expression softened. And Neito had no idea what was going on. Why was Katsuki being nice? When has Katsuki ever been kind?
Neito felt like he had no control of his body as he grabbed Katsuki's shirt with a shaky hand.
At first Katsuki didn't move or react, as if he was giving Neito the space to cry.
Katsuki eventually grabbed Neito's hand that was attached to his shirt. His hand was coarse and damp from his quirk.
Neito had already fallen apart so much in front of Katsuki in the few minutes that had passed. He felt defeated, he felt weak, he felt tired.
“I'm scared,” Neito paused with a shaky breath, “the nightmares. I can't take them anymore.”
Neito broke even more after speaking, even though he thought he had already broken fully. As Neito felt his knees begin to give out, Katsuki was there, guiding him to the ground. Once Katsuki let him go, he brought his knees to his chest. His body shook with each sob, months worth of tears flowing from him.
“This is all your fault,” Neito chocked out between sobs,”why the fuck did you have to die like that.”
Katsuki just sat down beside Neito without saying anything, as if he was accepting everything being said to him.
Perhaps it was just another thing that had changed about Katsuki, another reminder of that moment. Another reminder of Katsuki Bakugo’s body, bloodied, chest and heart blown apart. Another reminder of Best Jeanist and Edgeshot frantically trying to save Katsuki. Another reminder of him forced to keep his eyes open, forced to focus on Shigaraki, forced to see it all. Forced to remember everything. Forced to see it every time he closed his eyes, forced to relive it over and over again.
Neito tensed up as Katsuki wrapped his arm around him before being pulled closer to Katsuki.
Neito turned to Katsuki and pressed his face into the crock of Katsuki’s neck.
Even as Neito continued to cry he could feel all the signs of life within Katsuki. The soft movements from each breath he took, the warmth of his skin, and though faint, the sound of Katsuki’s heart beating steadily. A heart that was not Katsuki’s alone, but one that was beating and keeping the boy alive. Each soft muffled sound was a moment of Katsuki being alive, each soft muffled sound was a reminder that Katsuki was alive.
And suddenly every horrifying memory that had been haunting Neito meant nothing, because despite what he saw, Bakugo Katsuki was alive.
“Monoma,” Katsuki’s voice was soft and quiet, “you should probably talk to someone about this. Like someone who knows how to help you.”
“I know,” Neito mumbled, his face still pressed against Katsuki.
“We should probably head inside,” Katsuki said, changing the subject.
“Yeah,” Neito pulled himself away from Katsuki, but he never looked up. He didn’t want Katsuki to see his bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks.
Nothing was said as the boys walked towards the dorm buildings, and nothing was said when they each turned to head to their designated dorm building.
In the months following, Neito found himself around Katsuki more often, slowly becoming friends, and then more than friends.
~~~~
“Neito?” Katsuki mumbled, still half asleep, pulling Neito from his reminiscing.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Neito replied.
“You didn’t,” Katsuki said, pulling himself into a more upright position in bed, followed by a question, “are you okay?”
Neito's first instinct was to say he was fine. In a sense he was fine, he has had the same nightmare before and will likely have the same nightmare again in the future. But, at this point Neito and Katsuki had built a relationship of trust, of being open about whatever was bothering them.
“Just had a bad dream,” Neito said, trying his best to smile.
Katsuki moved closer to Neito, “was it that nightmare?”
Neito just nodded.
“Sorry,” Katsuki said softly, pulling Neito into a hug.
Neito did not hesitate to return the hug, bringing himself as close to Katsuki as he could.
Just past Katsuki was a nightstand. On it, alongside a lamp and Katsuki’s phone, were several orange semi-transparent prescription bottles. A mix of immuno-surpenstents, antibiotics, and a few other medications Neito only hardly knew about.
Next to the scars across Katsuki chest, the medications were another reminder of what had happened to Katsuki.
Neito’s breath hitched as tears began falling down his cheeks as he began to cry. He didn’t know why he was crying. Maybe because he was tired. Maybe the memories were becoming far too much for him again, maybe it was both.
“Neito,” Katsuki said, again speaking softly.
Neito pulled away from Katsuki, but only far enough so he could look at the other boy.
Katsuki very quietly, very gently grabbed Neito’s hand. He carefully guided it to his own chest, pushing his undershirt away so Neito’s hand was placed directly on his chest, pressing it against the scars across it.
The scars on Katsuki’s chest were smooth compared to the skin around them. The scars were the largest and deepest towards the middle of Katsuki’s chest. Large and pale with jagged borders. But that was not why Katsuki placed Neito’s hand there.
With his hand pressed against Katsuki’s chest, Neito could feel as it rose and fell, he could feel the warmth of Katsuki’s skin. But above all else, the most important thing he could feel was the soft beating of Katsuki’s heart.
Just like the night only a few years ago.
Often, when Neito would have nightmares, or after an awful flashback, this would happen. Katsuki would find a way to remind Neito of his still beating heart.
Neito wanted to keep his hand against Katsuki’s chest forever, feeling the warmth, feeling the movement. Neito knew that Katsuki was alive, and that his heart was beating. But, feeling that life was always so much more assuring to him.
Neito began to cry more as he kept his hand against Katsuki’s chest. It wasn’t as much because Neito was sad, but more the complex amount of emotions he felt, the complex emotions he always felt.
He no longer saw Katsuki’s lifeless body when he saw him. He wasn’t as easily reminded of that day. Neito had come far into his own recovery.
The nightmares were Neito’s scars.
Neito and Katsuki had found a connection in their scars. It was the scars that had brought them so close. Scars that were reminders of things, both good and bad. Scars that proved they have lived, and that they were alive.
The room was quiet, just the sounds of Neito’s sniffles as he stopped crying. The ambient sounds filled the rest of that space.
Neito slowly removed his hand from Katsuki’s chest, resting them now on his own lap.
The bed shifted, and Neito glanced up to see Katsuki was leaning in close to him, then pressed a small kiss against Neito’s forehead.
“I won’t be going anywhere for a while, you know,” Katsuki said.
“I know,” Neito replied.
“Good. I love you, Neito.”
Neito smiled a bit. “I love you too Katsuki”
Many things reminded Neito that Bakugo Katsuki had died, the scars across the boy's chest, the prescription bottles and pills on bedside tables, the nightmares and flashbacks Neito often had. But there was always one thing that reminded Neito that Katsuki was alive, and it was always Katsuki’s still beating heart.
A beating heart that Neito couldn’t help but love.