Even as Katsuki's heart stuttered painfully in his chest, he firmly believed that he would emerge from this victorious. It was a pitiful thought, really, a desperate plea and grasp at hope that was pointless. He knew what was happening, he knew that there wasn't a chance in hell that he was emerging from this alive, let alone standing tall and victorious. But he still held on to that dream. It was the only thing stopping the tears from spilling over. That unshakeable belief that Katsuki held was all that was keeping Shoto calm as he leaned over his partner (in life and sometimes in hero work).

"Why would you do that, Katsuki, are you stupid. Do you have a death wish?" Shoto croaked, as much as he may have wished to sound furious, he failed horridly. His voice was choked by tears and his eyes sparkled with fear.

"'Course not, Half-and-Half." Katsuki sneered, "But I couldn't let you take the hit, could I?"

"You could have!" Shoto shouted, he squeezed Katsuki's hand in his, "You could have..." he repeated in a quieter voice.

Katsuki gazed up at Shoto, his features softening ever so slightly. With great difficulty, Katsuki raised his hand to Shoto's cheek and ran his thumb under his eye in an effort to wipe away the tears that had started to slip over his waterline. Whilst he may have succeeded in wiping away his partner's tears, he had also smudged a streak of blood under his eye. Blood that was still warm from Katsuki's body.

If Shoto noticed the wet warmth of the blood being smeared onto him, he didn't say anything. He started down at Katsuki, a quiet resignation in his eyes. With reverence, Shoto laid a gentle kiss against the back of Katsuki's hand, like he always did when he wanted to fluster the blond man or attempt to seduce him (it rarely worked). Where Katsuki would have ordinarily blushed and chastised Shoto for embarrassing him, this time he simply smiled at his partner. A smile that Shoto would never deign to forget. A smile so sweet and unlike Katsuki that it burned itself into Shoto's retinas, determined to torture him for years to come.

"Why have you done this to me, Katsuki?" Shoto chokes. He doesn't care if he sounds selfish. He feels like he has every right to sound selfish. Thirty-two is far too young to die. Shoto knew that there was always the chance that either one of them could be unfortunate enough to die in the line of duty, but he never thought that it would actually happen. They were both good heroes, some of the best in the country, so why was Katsuki dying on him?

The two of them had been dating seriously for twelve years. They'd had an on again-off again relationship in their third year of UA, but it wasn't until two years later that they completely devoted themselves to one another. It was one of the best decisions either man had made, in their humble opinions. Twelve years of love and devotion. Meaningless arguments ultimately ended up with both of them struggling through an apology before they kissed it all better. Cooing over their cat. Buying their first house together. They had been perfect, but it was ending all too soon.

Katsuki's crimson blood stained the concrete below him. His entire costume was ripped to shreds from the waist upwards as a result of the villains striking him with their quirk before Shoto managed to encase them in ice. There was a massive gaping hole directly through Katsuki, it was a miracle that he was still alive, gasping for breath. It wouldn't be long until Shoto lost him, it wouldn't be long before his partner died in his arms. Even still, Shoto was in too much shock to cry properly, He wasn't balling over Katsuki's incapacitated body as others might have been. He was not shaking uncontrollably. Tears slid down his face and landed gently on Katsuki's pale skin, like raindrops falling from the sky at the start of a summer storm.

"This is really shitty timing, you know," Katsuki coughed, "I was going to propose to you tonight. I had it all sorted out, as well. We were going to go to that shitty hole-in-the-wall restaurant that you like so much. Then I was going to take you to the top of the mountain and propose to you under the moon..." Katsuki trailed off as he lost the steam to speak. Shoto didn't need to hear anything more, anyway.

"What a coincidence," Shoto laughed shakily, "I was going to purpose today as well... Right after this fight, actually. I have the ring and everything..."

Shoto reached into one of the pockets on his utility belt and brought out a ring box that he presented to Katsuki with a shaky hand.

"Hah?" Katsuki grumbled weakly. His voice lacked its usual vigour, that was what drove Shoto over the edge he was precariously treading. The edge between detached viewing and overbearing panic.

"You've always gotta copy me, ya asshole..." Katsuki smirked with bloodied lips. His eyes fluttered shut for a second, and that was all the time Shoto needed for him to descend into a panic.

"Katsuki!" Shoto whimpered, "Don't close your eyes! Not yet! You're not leaving me yet!"

"Calm down, Darlin'" Katsuki hummed, he knew how much Shoto hated pet names. He only ever used them if he was trying to be annoying, or if they were joking around.

"Not now, Katsuki, please!" Shoto begged, "Keep your eyes open. The paramedics will be here soon."

"We both know I ain't making it that long, Icyhot," Katsuki sighed. It was a sigh that spoke of acceptance. Katsuki wasn't the type to give up, no matter how impossible the chances seemed, he never backed down from a fight. But keeping up false hope, agreeing with Shoto's idyllic ideas that Katuki could be saved, would only cause his partner more suffering than he would already experience.

"I'm not gonna make it, Shoto." Katsuki whispered, "I love you, you know. I've loved you for fourteen years. Geez, I sound sappy. See, that's what dying will do to you."

All Shoto could reply with was a choked sob.

"When you go home, because you will be going home, pull up the floorboard under Explosion's bed and you'll see the engagement ring I got you. Take it and keep it, I don't care what you do with it, as long as you keep it somewhere." Katsuki's voice was steadily getting weaker now. His voice was little more than a gentle exhale of breath.

"I'll wear it all the time, Katsuki. I'll look after it to the best of my ability!" Shoto promised in a rushed tone of voice. "I... I love you so much, Katsuki."

"I love you too... Sh-" Katsuki's voice failed him.

Desperately, Shoto bent down and pressed a kiss to Katsuki's blood-soaked lips. Katsuki's returned the desperate kiss, the kiss of death, with the last of his strength before he went limp. His candle extinguished.

Shoto was put on leave for a month. They said that if he needed longer, they would give it to him, but he had to take a minimum of thirty days off. He didn't want time off. He wanted to be out there, hunting down the villain that stole his fiance from him. Because the villain had escaped. Katsuki had died for nothing because the heroes that were supposed to have secured the perimeter were too incompetent to do their jobs properly. Shoto was sure to tell them how he felt when he received news that his partner's murderer had evaded capture.

"We're sorry, Sir, but the villain slipped away..." a nervous intern squeaked. Her face drained of colour even further when she was faced with Shoto's ire.

Shoto's face was the perfect picture of grief, rage and hopelessness. He wasn't in the mood to hear bad news, and yet this intern had been brazen enough to approach him and tell him that she couldn't do her job competently.

"They got away?" Shoto whispered scathingly, "You let my fiance's murderer get away?"

Many people had told Shoto that he was much scarier when he whispered than he could ever be when he was yelling. There was a deadly flame in his eyes that robbed a person of their strength and courage.

"Y-Yes. They got away, but we've already got heroes out trying to capture him!" The intern stuttered.

Shoto sneered and turned his back on the squeaking youth, "Tyring isn't good enough,"

Shoto had ultimately come to feel guilty about the way he had treated the young girl. He'd had no right to treat her so badly when she was simply doing her job of delivering the bad news. After several days of being absorbed in his grief, after hours of crying alone in his and Katsuki's too cold and too empty bed, Shoto had pulled himself up to trudge to the agency and apologise to the girl in person before she returned to UA to continue her training.

"Shoto-san!" the girl squeaked upon seeing him. She quickly stood from where she was slouched over the breakroom table. Shoto watched as her face filled with slight fear and her posture stiffened.

"There is no need to stand," Shoto croaked, "I've simply come to apologise for my harsh behaviour earlier this week."

The girl looked surprised. Stunned. Baffled. After all, how often was it that one of the top heroes in the country bowed to you as they apologised?

"What?" the girl stuttered, "I don't understand?"

"I acted inappropriately the other day, I shouldn't have allowed myself to become so unprofessional," Shoto explained calmly.

"But Dynamight had just died and I was well aware that you were in a relationship. I should have approached the situation with a bit more tact." the girl dismissed.

Shoto internally winced at the girl's words. He knew that she meant no harm, but the reminder of Katsuki's death was like a knife being twisted in his heart without hesitation.

"Regardless, I am sorry for my harsh words." Shoto bowed one more time. He turned to walk from the room, to return home so that he can confine himself to his room and soak up the scent of the man he had lost.

"Shoto," the girl called out. Shoto looked over at the girl and braced himself, he knew what she was going to say. Those words that he dreaded and despised.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Shoto had been on leave for fifteen days, half of his time gone, before he had musted the courage to follow Katsuki's instructions and pull up the floorboard beneath the cat bed. The cats, all four of them, had temporarily been given to various family members and friends. Shoto didn't want them to suffer because he didn't have the capacity to look after them properly.

It was easy enough to pull the board up. The hardest part of the entire ordeal was picking up the sleek ring box from the crevice and opening the box to see a simple silver band nestled within. Shoto let out a choked sob at the sight. It was perfect. It was minimalistic. It fit Shoto perfectly. But he would never get the life-altering experience of watching as Katsuki got down on one knee and grumbled out his proposal with ruby cheek and averted eyes.

Shoto lay on the floor, sobs racking his body, as he slipped the ring onto his finger and kissed it reverently. Already, the ring that Shoto had been planning to give to Katsuki was strung on a chain around his neck, its warm metal a comfort against Shoto's skin. It hadn't left his body since the day Katsuki had died, and he never planned to remove it. It was a reminder of the heart-wrenching love and adoration for Katsuki that Shoto felt. The type of love that Shoto was sure he would never experience again in his life, no matter how far he looked.

Shoto's friends checked up on him regularly. The most persistent was Izuku. They grieved together, often. Crying together. Sharing memories. Crying again. Shoto was glad for his companionship, but it wasn't the same as having Katsuki by his side. Izuku was amazing, but he just wasn't Shoto's partner. In the dark of the night, when Shoto's arms felt empty and Katsuki's warmth wasn't there beside him, Shoto sometimes silently wished that Katsuki and Izuku (or anyone, for that matter) had switched places. He immediately felt guilty for wishing death upon another person- especially his best friend- just so that he could have his fiance back, but Shoto would be lying if he said that he wouldn't have been happier if a random civilian had died instead.

Why couldn't a civilian have died? Why couldn't this mountain of grief, this ocean of sorrow, have been dumped onto a different family? A different person who had the emotional stability and maturity to get through this. Why did it have to be him?

The day of Katsuki's funeral was sunny. Shoto loathed it. There should have been thunder and downpour. There should have been an icy sheet of rain hammering against the hearse's roof. There shouldn't have been a shining sun beaming down on Japan as the nation grieved for the loss of its number two hero.

People spoke at Katsuki's service. They looked down onto his pale face, temporarily preserved by the inordinate amount of chemicals that had been pumped into him post-mortem. Shoto didn't listen to what anyone said. Mitsuki spoke for both herself and her husband, the man too overwhelmed with grief and tears to squeeze anything out. Izuku spoke, at length, about how much he adored and loved Katsuki like a brother. Eijiro stammered through tears about how 'manly' Katsuki was and how much he would miss him. Many people spoke, but Shoto didn't hear a thing until it was his term to shuffle to the podium and address the crowd dressed in traditional mourning black.

"There's really not much I can say," Shoto croaked, "There's not much I can say that has not already been said. Katsuki and I were very private people, people weren't aware of our relationship until three years into it. There aren't many memories that I can share with you, because they are all too precious and close to my heart for me to risk losing them to the minds of others. All you need to know is that I loved Bakugo Katsuki with all of my heart. I have loved him for fourteen years, despite only being together for twelve of those years, and I will continue to love him wholeheartedly for the rest of my life."

Shoto arrived home that evening with a jar of ashes in hand and tears running down his face. Katsuki had a gravestone in the Fallen Heroes Graveyard, but his ashes had been given to Shoto instead of scattered to the winds. Shoto wasn't entirely sure if he wanted Katsuki's ashes, at least he wasn't sure of that as they were handed to him. They were a grim reminder that his life partner had been reduced to nothing more than an urn of ashes before it was his time. But, in the long-term, Shoto knew that he would come to appreciate Katsuki's continued presence in their home, even if he wasn't alive to warm the house.

Shoto now had all of the cats back, so he was sure to put Katsuki somewhere that he knew even the cats wouldn't venture. Katsuki's ashes were put on a shelf in a room dedicated entirely to his memorial shrine. The cats didn't enter the room, perhaps they sensed that the room was one of mourning. Either way, Shoto was grateful that the cats gave him at least this privacy, if they could roam freely throughout the rest of the house, at least he had his fiance's memorial room to grieve and remember in privacy.

It was the 43rd night that Shoto lay in a cold, unfamiliar bed without Katsuki by his side. A bed that Katsuki would never return to. A bed that Shoto loathed and loved at the same time. All of the memories it held pained his heart, but he couldn't get rid of them. Not yet.

As was the norm now, Shoto lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about Katsuki. He dreamt of regaling Katsuki of stories of his day.

"The funeral was horrid," Shoto whispered into the cold air, "I had to listen to all of these people talk about how much you meant to them, and how much they would miss you. I think only a small portion of them were telling the truth. I doubt you even knew who three-quarters of them were."

Shoto could almost hear it as Katsuki snorted and replied snarkily, "'Course a bunch of extras tried to exaggerate their affiliation with me. They couldn't suck up to me whilst I was alive, so they decided to do it once I'd already kicked the bucket."

"Don't joke like that, Katsuki," Shoto hummed, tears leaked from his eyes, as they often did, "I miss you, I don't want to think about your death."

"Tch," Katsuki tutted. A ghost of a caress whispered across Shoto's cheek, "I miss you too, you know."

Shoto didn't answer, he simply leant into the phantom sensation of his lover's hand on his face. He indulged in the smoky feeling of Katsuki's arms winding around his body, pulling him into a firm chest that wasn't there, it hadn't been there for over a month.

"I miss you, so much, Katsuki! Please come back to me!" Shoto wailed into Katsuki's chest. It wasn't actually his chest, though, it was a pillow that Shoto clutched desperately to try and stimulate a body against his.

"I wish I could come back, Sho, I wish I was there with you," Katsuki whispered into Shoto's hair, "We'll see each other again, not too soon though."

The phantom warmth of Katsuki's body faded away, leaving Shoto on his own, in a too-big bed. Leaving Shoto alone.

Even as Shoto held Katsuki in his arms, it felt like they were miles apart. 

I got the inspiration to write this randomly, and so I did, but I'm not entirely happy with it. I feel like I'm in a bit of a slump, but maybe you enjoyed it. I'm sure you can tell that I like putting these characters through pain from the fact that this is the seventh major character death fic I have written.

I intended to post this a while ago, but I couldn't be asked to make the cover (it turned out really shitty anyway, but whatever). It's been posted on AO3 for a while now, but I thought I might as well post it here as well.

Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day wherever you are.