u/RadiantImportance924

i'd love to get some attacks of community members :3c so if you are pls pls pls pls drop your artfight here!!!

The common room isn’t meant for this many blankets.

Couches have been dragged closer together. Futons and spare comforters cover the floor in a patchwork nest none of them are willing to comment on. No one suggested the sleepover out loud, but no one went back to their own rooms either.

After all, since the war, the halls have been too quiet.

The common room is dim, lit only by the dying lamps and the orange spill of streetlight through the curtains. The others are sprawled out where exhaustion claimed them—blankets half-fallen, shoes kicked aside, quiet breathing filling the space.

Kazumi sits upright longer than the rest. She always does now, because if she falls asleep, it'll hurt worse. Her eyes burn. Her chest aches. Eventually, exhaustion drags her under anyway.

It starts the same way it always does.

Warmth at her side. The faint, sharp scent of nitroglycerin and smoke. Calloused fingers brushing her cheek like she’s something fragile. She doesn’t open her eyes. She knows, if she looks at him, it ends.

“Oi. You really gotta stop cryin’ all the time, idiot.”

Her throat tightens. It’s never quiet in these dreams. He’s always like this—rough, annoyed, close enough that she can almost feel his breath. She presses her face harder into his chest instead. “Shut up,” she mutters, her voice trembling.

He huffs, thumb swiping beneath her eye. “You’re so damn stubborn.”

She grips the fabric of his shirt, even though she knows there’s nothing there. It doesn’t matter. The illusion will hold as long as she doesn’t challenge it.

Kazumi's fingers curl against fabric she knows isn't there, pressing her forehead against warmth that isn't real as she sobs. "Why—why did you have to go back out there—you idiot—" The same argument she has with him when she comes to this place.

She hears the familiar scoff and huff of irritation. "Damn idiot." Strong, calloused hands brush the tears from her face almost roughly, and despite the bite of that gesture—there's an undeniable undercurrent of care. "I had to." His voice is rough, but she can hear the pain in his words. "You know I did."

Kazumi shakes her head against the touch, another sob breaking through. "You were busted up, you jackass. And we were supposed to have each other, y'now." Her voice breaks on the last word.

There's an edge of anger in his response, and she can picture his frustrated scowl as if she's seeing him right now—her eyes still shut tightly. "Of course I know that, y'moron." His hand is still on her cheek, thumb brushing away another tear that escapes. His touch is so familiar. "I didn't want to leave ya. Ever."

Her trembling hand finds his, fingers fumbling to clutch at his wrist. It's so real, the warmth, the callouses, the shape of his arm—all of it's so damn reminiscent of him that it hurts.

But this can't be real. Her brain screams that, over and over, screaming she's just sleep-deprived, hallucinating—

She's so damn tired.

"Katsuki," she murmurs against his skin. "I can't—can't do this without you. We had plans—we had a life ahead of us and—now I just—"

She feels calloused fingers run through her hair, gently, the way he used to. It hurts, how familiar it all feels. "Don't say stupid goddamn bullshit like that. You can."

The words are rough but they're also achingly tender, his thumb rubbing circles against her scalp. "You can, y'hear me? You're a strong as hell idiot. You can do anything you put that stubborn-ass mind to."

A broken scoff leaves her lips. "How?!" Her fingers grip his shirt even tighter, refusing to let go—refusing to let this dream disappear. "When you're not here—" she chokes on another sob, "—when you're gone, how the hell can I—?"

His fingers pause in her hair, then resume with more pressure than before, massaging soothing little circles against her skull. "I'm still here, idiot—"

"You're not." She's whining now, but she doesn't care. If this is all a dream, then she's going to cling to it for as long as she can. "I can't touch you, can't see you—it—"

His fingers stop their slow circles, shifting to grip an unruly lock of her hair and tug gently like a chastisement. "Hey. Look at me. Look at me this time, idiot."

She doesn't want to. She knows if she opens her eyes, this whole damn hallucination will pop like a soap bubble and leave her alone again.

He tugs at her hair, harder this time. “I said look at me.”

She shakes her head immediately. “No.”

“Kazumi.”

“If I look at you, you’ll leave.” Her grip tightens around his shirt. “You always do.”

There’s a pause, then a softer scoff. Not mocking, not this time. “.. Damn idiot.” His fingers press more firmly against her scalp. “I ain’t disappearin’ ‘cause you open your damn eyes.”

“That’s not how this works,” she whispers.

“Yeah?” His forehead bumps against hers. “Then look at me and prove it.”

It takes her a long time.. But eventually she does. When she opens her eyes, Katsuki's there. Sharp red eyes, his expression in that familiar scowl. It's too vivid—like he's actually in front of her—alive.

It somehow makes it hurt even worse.

Katsuki's fingers are still curled in her hair, holding her gaze. "Took ya long enough, damn idiot." He scowls at her, his gaze burning with a familiar intensity. "About damn time you looked at me, dumbass."

Kazumi can't even think of a response, a strangled noise that might have been words escaping her throat. Katsuki scoffs as his thumb swipes roughly under her eye, wiping away fresh tears. "Listen. I ain't got long, so shut up and take what I'm givin' ya." His glare softens—just slightly—into something almost fond. "You're strong as hell. You don't need me."

Kazumi chokes on a sob, shaking her head violently. "Bullshit—"

"But," he cuts her off sharply, leaning in until his forehead bumps against hers again, "I ain't ever really gone. You carry me with you—every damn fight, every win. That's me in you—with you." His voice drops, gruff but certain. "So live, you damn cat. Live so damn loud it pisses me off wherever I am."

Then she's awake.

Kazumi jerks upright with a gasp, her face wet, her hands clutching at empty air. Across the room, Eijiro stirs, blinking sleepily at her. ".. Okabe..?" She stares at her trembling hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then she starts to sob all over again, nearly folding over as she cries.

Eijiro sits up immediately, rushing over to her side. "Hey, hey!" He crouches in front of her, eyes wide with immediate concern as he gently places his hands on her shoulders. "Okabe, what happened?!"

She tries to answer, to talk—but the words are lost in sobs, her body shaking from the weight of that real dream. Eijiro hugs her tightly, his warmth a stark contrast to that ghost of Katsuki in her dream.

He holds her tighter, letting her weep against his chest. "Shhh, shh.. It's okay. I gotcha'. Let it out." Eijiro rubs her back, murmuring soft, soothing words. Her sobs slowly start to quiet, hiccups breaking through occasionally.

Mina's voice is rough with sleep as she pads up. "What's goin' on?"

Eijiro glances at her with a grim expression, still holding Kazumi tightly. "She had another dream about Bakugo."

Mina's expression crumples. She immediately crouches beside them, wrapping her arms around both Kazumi and Eijiro. "Oh, Kazumi.." Her voice wobbles with shared grief.

Kyoka and Denki stir awake next, rubbing sleep from their eyes before taking in the scene. Without a word, they shuffle over to join the group hug, their warmth pressing against Kazumi's shaking form.

Izuku is last to wake, but when he sees them all clinging to each other, his face twists with understanding. He joins silently, resting his forehead against Eijiro's shoulder as tears slip down his own cheeks.

They stay like that—a tangled pile of mourning and comfort—until Kazumi's breathing finally steadies. Her tail flicks weakly, curling around Mina's ankle almost unconsciously. ".. He told me to live loud enough to piss him off," she mutters wetly into Eijiro's shirt.

That earns a choked laugh from the group. Eijiro squeezes her tighter. "Damn right we will. That bastard better hear us all the way up there."

And despite the tears still drying on their faces, something settles between them—a fragile, stubborn thing.

The war took enough.

It doesn’t get to take this too.