Fatigue began to slowly creep into Katsuki as he drove back to his apartment.

It had been a long week, even though crime had decreased considerably over the years.

He had hoped to see you, whether you were lying in bed or watching TV in the living room. Hearing you, seeing you, and having you near had become a source of comfort to him since he met you.

However, upon arriving, he found a scene completely different from what he had expected.

After searching the area for you, he found you sitting outside on the rooftop, your back against the wall in the small corner, gazing blankly at the cars coming and going, the lights of Tokyo twinkling below, your hair falling across your face.

Katsuki observed you without judgment.

You had that look, that look he had only seen once before since they met.

You had told him that you had had problems in your past, scars that hadn't healed and that reopened easily. A sentimental and sad person.

With purposeful steps, he approached and sat beside you, resting his hands on his crossed legs. There was a long silence before he spoke:

"You don't have to explain," he finally said, his voice low. You didn't look at him, but your heart felt heavy. "Your battles... may not be on a battlefield," he continued, looking straight ahead. "But that doesn't make them any less real."

The words hung in the air. He didn't try to offer solutions or any comforting words. He just stood there, solid, present.

Your eyes slowly glazed over, not giving you a chance to even process his next words:

"I don't need you to, and I never have asked you to, be strong all the time," he added.

It was like a fucking breaking point.

Without saying anything, you rested your head against Katsuki's shoulder, feeling a relief you never thought you'd feel. A sharp pain in your stomach, despite feeling safe by his side.