"You are like the wind"

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The wind always comes and goes, but it's never stable, it's never permeable.

The wind can blow as hard as it can, as far as it is close, but it's not usually aggressive to the heart-wounded.

The wind always trusts in fighting a wind that is often blurred to the eye, but never stays in the same place. It's not fixed at the same point, because it destroys itself.

Katsuki knew someone just like the wind.

He described him as the wind, he saw him move as a gentle breeze, and his appearance was often unstable because he always moved and was never still. His green eyes reflected a picturesque forest, a green landscape, a simple leaf fallen from a tree.

The wind has directions, different slopes to take and of which it got to sink between the streets, it was intermingled in any texture, it became a mirage, it became uncertain when its trajectory was unknown.

He was exactly like the wind, because Katsuki never knew what was going through Izuku's mind. He could get an idea, but never know what was going through his head.

The wind rushes and chases him, stamping on his face when he is sensitive to touch. Izuku many times did the same.

Izuku was the exact copy of the wind, the representation of all the restlessness that aroused in his being, because the uncertainty took over his balance.

Katsuki was someone extremely balanced, having everything under his control, but he could never control the wind of his mere existence.

He didn't understand him.

It irritated him to the core, not being able to understand him, not knowing how to feel when the wind was chasing him, when those green eyes followed him from behind with flattery, with fervor, with admiration grounded in his proximity.

Everything about the damn wind called Deku irritated him. The damn wind that intruded on his life without permission, without asking.

Izuku did things as he pleased, he did it without asking if it bothered him or liked his admiration, he did it because of the inertia of the moment.

Although Izuku did these things, he didn't give certainties to Katsuki, who when seeing him unstable in his grip, escaped to other directions, to caress other faces with his warmth, with his smiling and beautiful personality, with his beautiful way of speaking.

Izuku was not stable in his life, maybe he never was.

Katsuki, no matter how much he didn't understand, panicked when Izuku flew over other places, when his warmth and smile directed them to someone else, especially the bichromatic boy in his living room, the half-and-half bastard.

The bastard received the blizzards caused by Izuku with open hands, while Katsuki watched it happen in front of him, feeling worse than having lost a fight.

The wind comes and goes, it gets so close to its surroundings, it raises its spirits, it gives it strength and a world of certainties, and then it ends up leaving and following its course, a course different from its own.

Katsuki, despite being an explosion, wanted to go along with the wind, because the loneliness that left him when leaving, alienated him from his goal. If the wind was going in the same direction as him: why didn't they go together? Why was Izuku traveling in a different tune to his? Why did they not converge on the road?

Their whys were not usually answered, because the answer had to be found through their interior, where the sea of answers had always remained silent, waiting for their fears to surface, their insecurities and their doubts to emerge as turbulences that They represented a man who didn't want to lose the wind that was his compass. He was always his compass, his response, his warmth, his reason for seeking to become a hero.

The solitude made him realize that the wind was going away with greater force, because his warm air disappeared, leaving him sheltered by the cold. The cold detonated an icy breath of air over his entire body.

Katsuki didn't want to feel like this. The cold frightened him. It scared him not having the warmth of Izuku in his life. It scared him not to be caressed by his warmth. It scared him not to feel protected by him. It scared him not to have him by his side, like before.

Katsuki stretched out his hand, but the wind didn't seem to return soon. It didn't blow with scorching heat to warm the soul, he didn't harbor the certainty that he couldn't provide for being so restless and free in the world.

Katsuki stretched out his hand, but nothing appeared, because he was the cause of pushing away the wind that protected him and warmed him with his purity. He himself chased away the heat of his life, and now only he and the cold remained.

Come back, Deku.

Don't leave Me.

Don't leave me alone.

If you leave me I won't be able to continue.

But the wind didn't answer him this time.

Katsuki just hoped that at some point Izuku would reply to him again; hoping it wasn't too late to have him back by his side, because the wind always comes and goes, but it's never stable, it's never permeable.

Izuku was that, he was the one who covered and protected his life.

Izuku was simply the wind.

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P.S. A short Dekukatsu one-shot. I hope you liked it.

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This is a fic related to Katsuki's insecurities about Deku leaving him behind.