After The Rain [Chapter 1 - Blue]

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CW: Touches on depression and other mental health conditions - It's fairly minor but if you are particularly sensitive to these topics, it may be best to give it a miss. 

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“Oi, brat! Get your stubborn ass down here, it’s dinner time!”

Katsuki didn’t dignify it with an answer, instead dragging his blankets up over his head to cast him into darkness. His room was already only dimly lit, just a few rays of sunset fighting their way through his old curtains, with their faded blue All Might patterns. He wished they were darker, less cheerful and childish – he wanted to block out every single millimetre of light, to shroud himself in pitch black, locked away from the world around him.

His beaten-up old pillow didn’t do much to muffle the sound of his mother’s yells, but as he stuffed his head underneath it, he knew it was doing its best. If he’d had a little more forethought, he’d have brought his own one with him when he moved back home, but he hadn’t really thought that far ahead. He’d just numbly shoved his clothes in a bag and gotten on a bus, left everything behind without a whole lot of care.

What was it all worth, after all? It was all just stupid little stuff he’d bought as part of a certain kind of life he’d built for himself. A stupid kind of life. A kind of life he’d never have again, whether he wanted it or not.

God, what had he even been thinking? He should have known it wouldn’t work, it never worked. He’d spent his whole life that way. Leapt into harder school classes than he needed to be taking, only to get subpar grades that disappointed himself and his parents. Jammed his schedule with as many classes and clubs as he could fit, only to screw it all up with his failure to stay organised. Dedicated himself to a singular goal, a goal that was supposed to make everyone proud, only to realise, eventually, that maybe he’d never actually wanted it in the first place.

He’d finally managed to get himself together, after a few years out of school. He’d scraped through his degree by the skin of his teeth, then worked his way up the ranks for a couple of messy years, before he finally landed what was supposed to be his dream job. After that, things had been looking up – he did fine at his job, met a nice girl, and actually managed to keep the nice girl, despite being so... Difficult. She had been a saint to put up with him, honestly. All his shitty mood swings, his ridiculous impulsive behaviour, his forgetfulness – how many girls would stick with the guy who forgot their anniversary most years?

But it hadn’t lasted, things had fallen apart just like they always did. And... Well, he deserved that. He hadn’t made enough effort, hadn’t tried hard enough to do well at work or to be a good partner – that was just him, he just wasn’t good enough. He’d never been good enough.

“Katsuki!” she squawked again, breaking through into Katsuki’s fortress of solitude. “I’m not gonna say it again!”

“Good,” he mumbled to himself, closing his eyes. “Ugh.”

The house went silent finally – thank god – and Katsuki breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he could finally get some sleep, although he kind of doubted it. He’d barely left his bed since he’d gotten home, but it felt like he’d gotten no sleep in that time; he’d just been lying there, awake, his head too heavy to lift, no energy left to do anything more than just stare at the ceiling.

Some time passed in his dark little hole, until eventually he heard soft footsteps padding up the stairs toward him. He hoped beyond hope that they would pass him by, heading toward his parents’ room, but sure enough they stopped at his door, a gentle hand tapping on it in greeting.

“Katsuki?” the quiet voice asked, cracking the door open to peek inside. “How are you feeling?”

He grumbled something non-committal, and Masaru pulled out the desk chair, sitting down at Katsuki’s bedside. For a little while he didn’t speak, just sat there in Katsuki’s company, silent together. He didn’t open his mouth until Katsuki turned his head slightly, smiling as best as he could at the exhausted face dragging itself off an old, lumpy pillow, before he spoke.

“Are you hungry?” Masaru asked, holding up a bowl. “I brought some leftovers from dinner, if you want them.”

Katsuki opened his mouth to refuse, but his stomach betrayed him, growling its protest at the lack of sustenance. With a little smile, Masaru set the bowl on the bedside table, and Katsuki dragged himself up to lean against his headboard.

“It’s been nice having you home,” he said, painfully sincerely, as Katsuki picked up the hot bowl. “I know you want your space and your peace for now, but I really am glad you’re here.”

Katsuki didn’t know what to say to that, so instead he just didn’t. He shoved some rice in his mouth to avoid it, and Masaru didn’t seem at all offended by his silence, just continued to smile at him in the darkness.

“Do you want to talk about it, at all?” he asked gently. “I’m here to listen if you do.”

Katsuki shook his head, and Masaru nodded his understanding, leaning back a little in his seat to settle in. Apparently he was getting ready for the long haul, and Katsuki wasn’t sure if he minded that or not.

“Well, you know you’re always welcome here at home. You can stay as long as you want to, or need to, and we’re never going to kick you out or anything like that. It would be nice to see you sometimes, when you feel up to it, though. Even if you just want to curl up in a blanket on the couch, maybe we could watch a movie or something? I’m off work tomorrow, so you and I could do something together, while your mother is out.”

“Maybe,” Katsuki grunted, taking another bite of rice and egg. “S’good. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for, so I went with something simple. Is there anything in particular that you feel like eating? I could make you a hot curry, or maybe a chilli?”

“M’fine,” Katsuki shrugged awkwardly. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” Masaru nodded again. “Well, if you think of anything, let me know. You can come down, or call out, or just send me a text. I don’t mind.”

“M’kay.”

Masaru just sat there as he ate, patient and quiet, and Katsuki couldn’t help but feel slightly comforted by his presence. It was good to know someone could still tolerate him, even if it was just his sappy, over-accepting father. It was also kind of nice to just sit quietly together, instead of having to hold a conversation.

“Chicken,” he found himself mumbling, resisting the urge to burrow back into his blankets and hide. “Those wings you do. If you can be bothered.”

“That sounds great,” Masaru nodded. “I haven’t done them in a long time, it would be a nice change. A good celebration of having you home.”

Katsuki pulled a face, but he didn’t bother to start a debate about it. No matter what his father really thought, he would still continue to insist he was happy about it.

“I think you need to see someone,” Masaru suggested gently. “Someone who can help you, in the ways I wish I could, but I just can’t.”

Katsuki didn’t say anything right away, and for a moment Masaru paused, giving him a chance to process and inevitably argue. But still he didn’t speak, so after a minute, Masaru continued.

“I think you should see someone who knows what to say and do to help you overcome this. We’ll pay for it, so you don’t need to worry about the cost, and I can take time off work to drive you there and pick you up afterward, so it doesn’t take too much energy. I’ll even book the appointment for you. I just need you to say yes, to tell me you’ll try it out and see if it works, if it helps.”

“Like therapy,” Katsuki grumbled. “That’s what you’re talking about?”

“Yes,” Masaru smiled awkwardly. “I know it sounds bad, but-”

“S’fine,” Katsuki cut him off. “I know.”

“Yeah?”

“See that shit online all the time,” he shrugged. “Always raving about it like it’s a miracle or whatever. May as well give it a shot.”

“I’m glad to hear that!” Masaru smiled brightly, more relaxed than Katsuki thought he’d seen him in years. “Can I book you an appointment, then? Is there a day or a time you prefer?”

“Whatever. Ain’t like I’ve got anything else going on.”

“Okay, I’ll give them a call in the morning. Thank you.”

He stood up, taking Katsuki’s empty bowl, and gave him one more smile as he headed for the door.

“Goodnight, Katsuki. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki grunted, sliding back down into his nest. “I guess so.”

─────

It took a few weeks for him to get used to the whole therapy thing, but eventually he felt he’d gotten used to the whole process, even if he didn’t really feel like it was helping. She’d told him from the start that it wouldn’t change overnight, though, that therapy was an ongoing process, and all that other shit he’d barely listened to, that he felt like he already knew and just didn’t want to acknowledge. He’d given it a chance, since he didn’t have a lot of other options, and he supposed it had been okay. It got him out of the house once a week, got him away from his mother’s nagging, if nothing else, and she seemed to genuinely care about the things he said. He knew she was paid to care, obviously, but it was still... Nice, he supposed.

He was also surprised that she’d seemed so... okay. He knew from old friends whose calls he’d been dodging for weeks that it didn’t always work out the first time, that most people tried a whole bunch of therapists before they found one they meshed with, but Katsuki had managed to get an okay one right off the bat.

Then again, he wasn’t really sure what they were supposed to be like, maybe he just didn’t know she was shit. She’d told him it would be a long process on day one, but maybe it was supposed to be an overnight thing, and she just sucked?

That wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense though, he supposed. Why would so many people make weekly or monthly visits if it was supposed to be quick? As much as he wanted to think he’d fucked up, that he was just a failure at therapy or whatever, he had enough common sense to know it was just his stupid brain saying it.

That day in particular, she’d handed him a piece of paper on his way out, and for a long time he’d just sat in the waiting room, staring at it. He wasn’t entirely sure what to think about it yet – how to feel about it yet – and he definitely wasn’t sure how to talk about it yet.

With a deep breath, he folded the page back up and headed out to the car, sliding into the passenger seat while Masaru greeted him brightly, just like every week since they’d first gotten an appointment with her.

“How did it go?” he asked. “Still exhausting?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki confirmed, grimacing. “Um, she gave me a referral to see... A doctor, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s good. Are you nervous?”

“Not really.” He shrugged. “She said... Medication might help. So um, he can do that. If he thinks I should.”

He rubbed his hands together awkwardly as he spoke, staring down at them rather than meet Masaru’s gaze, but Masaru didn’t hesitate for even a moment.

“I’m glad,” he said instead. “It’s good to investigate all your options. Anything that might be able to help is worth looking into, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki sighed, closing his eyes to block out the clear blue sky that stared him down through the windscreen, full of too-bright daylight with not a single cloud to dim it for him. “I guess we’ll find out in a few weeks.”

“In the meantime, I’ve got a nice dinner waiting for you at home. You seemed to really enjoy the ramen last week, so today I went for a spicy stew. You deserve some hot comfort food after putting yourself out there like this.”

“Thanks,” he grunted. “It sounds good.”

“I’m glad.”

They had quickly settled into a routine, with Katsuki’s appointments. Masaru took every Friday afternoon off work, no matter how much Katsuki told him to stop wasting his vacation time, to drop him off at his appointment, then went home to cook him a hot meal, before returning to pick him up at the end. Katsuki knew he should have been more grateful for it, should have been pleased that his father cared so much, but it was hard. His brain didn’t want to cooperate, didn’t want to feel the things he should have felt, and when he did feel things, they came too hard and too fast. He’d snapped at his parents more than once since he’d emerged from his hole in the bedroom, and while Mitsuki was more than happy to snap back at him, Masaru never did the same. When he did feel things, it was usually regret, guilt, doubt, and lately a lot of it had been aimed Masaru’s way.

He’d managed to bring it up though, that day. Had grumbled out a complaint to his therapist about always taking things out on his father. And as he sat in the car with his eyes closed, feeling it pull away from the curb, he focussed on his breathing for a moment, trying to remember exactly what she’d said.

“Thanks for being here,” he choked out, refusing to look at the shocked expression he knew would be waiting for him. “I know I’ve been an ass, but- Ugh.”

He paused again, taking a deep breath, and Masaru waited patiently.

“I know you care,” he said finally. “You make it clear that you do, and I appreciate that.”

“I love you, Katsuki. I probably don’t tell you that enough. I know you don’t like to hear it, most of the time. But I do love you, and I always have, ever since we first found out your mother was pregnant. The day you came home was the best day of my life. I’ll never stop loving you, and wanting you, no matter what happens. I know you think you’ve screwed things up, I know you think I don’t want you here. But I do. I want you here, with me, any time, for as long as you want.”

“Sometimes I have trouble believing that,” Katsuki admitted. “I know it, but sometimes... I don’t feel it. And that’s not your fault, I uh, hope you know that.”

“I hope you know it’s not yours, either.”

Katsuki felt his eyes start to water a little, behind his eyelids, and he squeezed them a little tighter to make sure nothing could slip its way out.

“I’m working on it,” he said quietly. “I’m trying.”

“I know you are. I’m so proud of you.”

He swallowed hard, nodding faintly, and thankfully Masaru didn’t push the matter. Katsuki could always count on him to know when to stop – could count on him for anything probably – and he knew he should really be more grateful for it all, in the future.

“I know you’re gonna say no either way,” he grumbled. “But would you... I don’t know, think less of me? If I took medication?”

“Not even slightly,” Masaru assured him, so genuine that Katsuki felt he could really, truly believe it. “I think you’re amazing, and strong, and so brave to face all this uncertainty head on. Whatever you can do, or I can do, to make this easier on you, to help you find yourself and your way again, I am one hundred percent on board.”

“Thank you.”

[Next Chapter]