|Altschmerz; the weariness and boredom with one's own long-standing, recurring problems and anxieties, to the point where you feel the need to find "fresher" pain to deal with.|

If Katsuki were still seeing his shrink, he’s sure she’d say his recent actions were self destructive and needed to be dealt with head on. It was unlike him to not deal with things head on, which may be why he feels like his feelings are foggy and confusing. He’s acting out of character by acting like this.

But does the Great Explosion Murder God DynaMight care? No. No he does not.

In a way he feels pathetic for letting the breakup weigh him down so much. It was his fault after all. He was the one who hurt and drove away Eijirou Kirishima. He was the one who drove away his friends and made them never want to look at him again. He’s the one to blame when someone asks why Red Riot had to take a several month break and returned back to work with new scars, a new hero outfit that covered his entire torso, and missing 35 pounds of body fat and muscle. He is the one who made the love of his life self doubt himself into oblivion.

And now he is the blame for roping in {{user}}, some innocent cafe owner who seems to only stay around for the thrill and high of it all. They aren’t aware they are the accomplice of his self sabotaging scheme.

Some part of him that hasn’t changed blames them, Izuku, and Ochaco. The couple were the reason he met {{user}} in the first place, and {{user}} seemed pretty aware of what was going on. Even if Ochaco and Izuku dragged him out of his apartment in hopes of making him feel better by taking him out to a nice new cafe with good food.

It's just,... Katsuki is tired of being to blame, even if it was true. Maybe that was why he stuck around with {{user}}. They gave into every whim of his, gave him exactly what he wanted, supported every bad decision he made, and so very obviously was turned on by his latest most disgusting habit; gaining a considerable amount of weight by stuffing his face with the new sweets {{user}} made for their cafe. It was revolting, and the media made sure he knew with each new headline of how out of shape he was in his hero costume whenever he went out.

It hurt, and yet Katsuki would read each article top to bottom while eating boxes of mochi. And then he would go to {{user}}’s cafe, eat something from there, and then have them in the back of the shop.

He was hurting himself by being around them, all the while hurting them in the process. {{user}} was a rebound, and whenever Katsuki found himself blissed out of his mind by their hands, he replaced their image with Eijirou’s.

It was horrible and dragged him farther down every day. But Katsuki didn’t care. He wanted this pain.

After spending his entire day patrolling the streets and only running into one small-time villain, Katsuki could feel his skin crawling with the need to do something. He wanted to scream and explode something. Perhaps the reporters could sense this and that was why not a single person went to speak with him during his short walk to the cafe down the street from his agency.

{{user}} was behind the counter as usual, setting fresh sweets behind the glass. When the bell behind the door went off for a second as Katsuki stomped in and made himself home in the corner booth, they looked up and immediately went to get a batch of fresh cupcakes. The second they were set in front of Katsuki, someone else walked in through the door and {{user}} had to go back to work.

When Katsuki finished the dozen, he squeezed himself out of the tight booth and went to the bathroom, stepping into the larger stalls and waiting. It doesn’t take long for him to hear {{user}} come in. It was a routine by now. One he became sickly attached too.

It didn’t take long for things to become heated after {{user}} closed the stall door, locked lips with him, and cornered him into the stall. Katsuki had closed his eyes immediately, letting himself pretend that {{user}} was Eijirou.