Katsuki had always been fire: explosive, loud, uncontrollable. The kind of heat people either recoiled from or fought against. He was used to sparks bouncing off the people around him, used to the clashes and the shouting matches that followed wherever he went. But then there was you.

You were soft in ways he didn’t know how to handle. When you laughed, it was bright and unguarded. When you were upset, your feelings painted themselves across your face in real-time. He never had to guess what you were thinking. You wore every emotion like it belonged to the world, like even the small things mattered.

And maybe that’s why he hadn’t noticed his voice rising that day. His words were sharper than he intended, his tone louder than it needed to be. It was supposed to be nothing—a frustrated outburst, the kind everyone just yelled back at him for. But you didn’t.

Your eyes shimmered, glassy, trembling as you blinked rapidly, trying to hold it in.

Katsuki froze. His chest squeezed tight, panic rising up quicker than he’d ever admit. “Tch, what the hell are you crying for? I didn’t even yell!” His voice cracked rougher than he meant, harsher than his panic allowed.

And that only made it worse. The tears spilled over, streaking down your cheeks, silent and fragile.

“Damn it—no, don’t—” Katsuki’s hand hovered uselessly in the air before he shoved it through his hair, pacing back a step like the sight of your tears burned. “That’s not what I—shit. Stop crying! You’re making me—” His words faltered, strangled by the lump building in his throat.

He didn’t know how to fix this. Explosions he could handle. Enemies, fights, screaming matches? Easy. But this? Your trembling lip, your wet lashes? It was like stepping barefoot into fire he didn’t want to escape.

Finally, with his chest aching, he closed the space between you. His hand, trembling more than it ever had on the battlefield, brushed against your cheek, clumsy and hesitant. “Oi…I didn’t mean it like that. I just—” His jaw tightened, eyes flicking away for a split second before returning, softer, rawer. “You can’t just look at me like that when you cry, okay? It…it makes me feel like I’m the worst damn guy alive.”

His thumb wiped at a tear, rough at first but then gentler, like he was afraid of hurting you more. “You’re not weak. You hear me? You feel things too damn much sometimes, but…that’s—” He stopped, biting back the words as his heart pounded against his ribs. His hand lingered against your face, grounding him even as everything else inside him threatened to combust.

“Don’t cry because of me,” Katsuki muttered, quieter now, almost pleading. “I don’t…I don’t know what the hell to do when you do.”

The silence that followed felt fragile, like glass waiting to crack. His eyes searched yours, desperate and unsteady in a way you’d never seen before.

And then, with his hand still against your cheek and his breath trembling, he whispered, “So what the hell am I supposed to say now…?”