A Work In (No) Progress…

"Shit, now look what you've done to yourself!" Mikiko yelled, her voice hoarse from the constant screeching. Her face was pinched and splotchy in her anger, eyes devoid of any concern for the girl in her care. "Why can't you ever behave!? If you'd just quit squirming and take your punishment none of this would happen!"

The woman grabbed a handful of Hitomi's hair and dragged her across the floor and down the hall. Hitomi cried out, her hands grabbing at her hair, desperately trying to ease the pain in her scalp.

Up ahead, the hall closet loomed.

Mikiko dropped Hitomi at her feet, taking out a set of keys to undo the series of locks on the door. The door creaked open, revealing the small, empty space behind it. This would be Hitomi's cell for however long her guardian wished to torment her and Hitomi felt a cold sweat form on her body at the idea of being locked inside yet again. She grasped at Mikiko's ankles, begging and pleading even though no words would get through the device locked onto her head. All she got for her efforts was a kick to the front of her muzzle, sending her tumbling to the floor.

Her foster mother dragged her to her feet, holding her in place with a bruising grip on her little shoulders. Mikiko leaned down, right into Hitomi's face, hissing, "you're going to sit in there and think about how you're going to behave from now on. If you think you can live peacefully in this home with your attitude the way it is now, you've got another thing coming. You'll have to do better than that."

Hitomi was thrown into the closet, her shoulder knocking harshly into the back wall. She slumped do the ground just as the door was slammed shut, sealing her into complete darkness. As Mikiko began to turn the many locks, all from the outside, back into place, Hitomi pushed herself onto her knees and pounded frantically on the door.

It was pointless, however, as Mikiko stormed off without another word.

Hitomi sobbed, curling up on the floor. The darkness was absolute and terrifying, and there was no light installed in the small space to chase it away. She placed her head close to the bottom of the door, just to get a glimpse of the light that came in from beneath it. She did her best not to think about the darkness that engulfed her, about the walls that felt like they would grow closer and closer until they suffocated her. She trembled, as it was all she could do.

On the second floor, in the room directly above the little closet, her foster siblings began to jump and stomp on the floor. They created a tremendous racket just to make her situation that more unbearable. No doubt Mikiko could hear them, but she didn't say a word against them about it, allowing them to add to Hitomi's torment.

Hitomi's hands clenched into fists, her anger not quite drowning out her fear, but still present. It wasn't fair. She didn't even do anything! All her foster siblings had to say to get out of trouble was "Hitomi made me do it" and she was taken to the closet. Never mind the fact that she couldn't use her quirk while wearing the muzzle. Everyone in this house loved to torment her and she hated it. She hated it!

The minutes dragged into hours. Hitomi had fallen silent in the closet, having tired herself out and resigning herself to the fact that she was trapped here. No one would take pity on her and help her. Outside of the closet, her "family" carried on with their day, without her. It was like she didn't even exist to them once she was locked away. She meant nothing to them. She was nothing to them.

Hitomi closed her eyes, letting her mind drift away from this terrible place. She thought of a world where she was loved and wanted. Where she had parents that were patient and kind, and friends who didn't hurt her. Where people didn't see her villainous quirk, just a lonely girl who needed someone on her side.

Hitomi's like a shell, an afterimage of the woman that left. She's lost weight, lost sleep, her eyes are sunken and her skin is dull. She's got new scars on the skin he can see and the look in her eyes is just… haunted. She's taller than him, by just a bit, but she looks smaller somehow. Frail.

She just stands there in front of him, clutching the strap of her duffel bag like it's a lifeline. She looks weighed down in a way he's never seen before. She's looking into his eyes, but it's like she isn't even seeing him, like she's not even there herself.

"What the hell happened to you out there?" Katsuki doesn't mean to ask it aloud, but the dramatic transformation catches him off guard. He comes forward, reaching out to her, only to have her block him with a firm hand and a step back. He freezes.

"Don't," she said, and for a moment, there's sharpness in her eyes, something cold and flinty. She stops herself for a moment and the fatigue is back, colored by guilt, "I'm sorry," she murmurs, "but I don't want to be touched right now…"

"Right," he says softly, moving his hands down to his sides where they flex restlessly. He makes room for her as she steps inside their home, even still, Hitomi edges away from him like he's some sort of threat to her. He has no idea what's going on in her head right now as she avoids his gaze and holds herself like a wounded animal.

It's not the reunion he'd imagined for them when she left.

Hitomi quietly toes off her shoes as he worriedly watches over her every move. When it looks like she's just going to leave him at the entrance without another word, he has to speak up.

"Tomi," he has to stop himself from reaching for her again, so used to how tactile they are in private. She pauses, clutching her duffel bag closer to her chest. "Talk to me. Something clearly happened to you out there, it's-"

"I just need some space," she cuts him off, and there's the slightest tremble in her voice, she looks over her shoulder at him. A desperate eye peers at him through a curtain of limp hair, "please."

Katsuki's mouth presses into a firm line and he hesitates. It feels wrong, this all feels wrong. But Hitomi's telling him what she needs right now, and who is he to deny her that.

"Okay," he says helplessly.

That was nearly two weeks ago.

Since then, Hitomi's been haunting their apartment like a ghost, flitting around from room to room, staring heavily off into space, and just barely engaging with Katsuki. She took to using the guest bedroom at night, locking herself away from him rather than sharing their bed. She refused all contact, only gave him short answers when he spoke to her, she was barely eating. By all indications, she wasn't doing well.

And Katsuki is so fucking worried about her.

They've been living together for less than six months at this point. Back when Hitomi's lease was coming to an end and Katsuki first brought up the idea of living together, she had hesitated.

"Sometimes I get fucked up after my missions," she told him, rubbing the back of her neck. "Trust me, you don't wanna deal with that side of me…"

"I'll deal with whatever side you've got," he proclaimed, crossing his arms. "The fuck do you take me for?"

Katsuki wasn't just there for when it was easy and fun. He wanted a life with Hitomi, a future, warts and all. It'd taken more convincing, more assurances, but Hitomi eventually agreed to try living together. And it had been great.

Yes, there were times when Hitomi came back from patrol or her missions seeming off. She could be agitated and snappish, or drained and withdrawn. But she would always bounce back relatively quickly. It was that strong will of hers at work, a resilience even Katsuki couldn't hope to match.

This is the first time Hitomi has returned so… lost. Then again, this is the longest mission she's been on since moving in with him. He isn't sure what to think and it leaves him feeling pretty damn useless. Is this typical of her? Or is he not doing enough to help her?

Katsuki doesn't want to take any chances, he reaches out to someone who has some experience with this kind of thing: Hitomi's dad.

"Going undercover can be hell, especially for long periods. You have to completely disappear into your role just to survive," Aizawa tells Katsuki over the phone. "Sometimes it takes a while for Hitomi to come back to herself once she's out."

"So, what, I just have to wait it out?" Katsuki asks. Is that really all he can do? Frustration itches under his skin, as well as that sense of inadequacy. He's never been the kind of guy to see a problem and not immediately start working on the solution. The fact that there's not some immediate action he can take, especially to help Hitomi, it just doesn't sit right with him. "I just have to do nothing?"

"You're not doing nothing, you're showing her you're still there. You're being present," his former teacher corrects him. "You're offering her a place to rest when she reaches out. Just continue to give her space, and keep an eye out. When she's ready, give her the support she needs. Maybe nudge her to reach out to her therapist while you're at it."

Katsuki blows out a breath. Well, he did come to him for advice. "Got it."

"You're doing fine, kid. If it feels like she's getting worse, give us a call and we'll swing by."

They end the call soon after.

It's a couple of days later when something finally happens.

Katsuki's at the stove, working on breakfast. He's still cooking for the both of them, even if Hitomi is barely touching it, setting aside the portions for her just in case her appetite comes back. He hears her footsteps as she enters the kitchen. Hitomi can be as quiet as a mouse when she wants to be, but she always makes her presence known when she's at home. They're both heroes with a lot of mental baggage, no need to accidentally scare the shit out of each other.

"Mornin'," he grunts out, stirring some miso soup. He looks focused on his cooking, but really, every one of his senses is tuned in to Hitomi.

She doesn't speak, instead she slowly approaches him from behind. Cautiously, her arms wrap around his middle, her body pressed in close to him. The weight of her cheek presses against the back of his neck.

Katsuki goes still. The contact is unexpected after weeks of her keeping her distance from him, but he nearly melts from it. Fuck, it's been so long. He wants to turn around and return her embrace, but he's worried about scaring her off or something, so he calmly returns to cooking while she continues to rest against him.

After a few long moments, Hitomi speaks up, "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"What for?" he asks, just as quietly.

"I've been so…distant," she holds him tighter. "Fuck, I've been so cold to you. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair-"

"Hey," he carefully cuts her off, his hands moving to turn off the stove. He slowly turns in her arms to face her, and she lets go of him so that he can do so. He already misses the contact.

Katsuki looks into Hitomi's face and she still looks gaunt and weary, but she looks present now, and it's been so long since it's felt like she was actually seeing him when she looked at him. Cautiously, reaches a hand out to her, and she moves in closer. His hand cradles her cheek and she sinks into his touch with something like relief.

"You're going through a lot," he tells her, his thumb brushing along the dark circle beneath her eye, "don't beat yourself up about it. I'm still here, and that's not changing."

Her worn expression grows warmer, if only just a little. She moves even closer and she's holding onto him again, and he's holding her just as tight. She tucks herself under his chin, even if it's a little awkward, and her runs his fingers carefully through her tangled hair.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks quietly.

"No. Not…not yet," she says, "I just want to forget. Just for now."

"Okay," he agrees, willing to give her whatever she needs from him.

They end up in bed together, breakfast abandoned on the stove for the time being. They remove their shirts and Hitomi rests on top of Katsuki, draping herself across his chest. The skin-to-skin contact soothes the both of them as they remain like that for close to an hour.

"Thank you," Hitomi says, her ear pressed to Katsuki's heart.

Katsuki drags his knuckles up and down her arm, watching her with eyes full of steady devotion, "of course."