[This was a little unexpected... Katsuki didn't want to really address all of what happened after that bullshit banquet and ball that Vaeros threw a while back. He didn't want to even think about how half the reason he passed out, and passed out hard, after was because he was so wrung out emotionally. Both Todoroki and Deku forgot who he was, forgot everything in the case of Izuku, and Katsuki would be lying if that didn't effect him pretty badly. It's one thing to have them disappear, he at least knows his friends are in a place where they belong, but having them forget their memories, their very selves...that's truly torturous. He doesn't ever want that to happen to them again.
So this text, so sincere and heartfelt, hits extra hard after all of that. It makes Katsuki feel tight, but not necessarily in a bad way. Not the way he felt when his two friends, yes friends, forgot who he even was. This tightness doesn't feel constricting and painful, it's almost...soft. Warm. Like a hug.
He reads it, and rereads it, and rereads it again, not having anything to say back because Todoroki is right - he doesn't enjoy these things, face to face especially but even in text it's difficult for him to put what he feels into words. But Todoroki knows, he already said it all in his message. Katsuki's done all this - housed all of them and even made renovations to his home - to keep them all together under one roof, because he wants to share his space and his presence with them, his friends. His best friends. He doesn't need to say anything back, so he doesn't. They know, he's already shown them how important he thinks they are, and how much he cares about them. It feels a little cheap, but...he's not quite at the point where he can say things from the heart with such confidence. Katsuki needs just a little bit more of a push in the right direction, a little more time on his journey.
He saves the message, and makes a mental note to stop by Meryl's printing shop to have the thing printed out, so he can have something more physical to hold on to. This message is important, it means something, so Katsuki wants to keep it in hardcopy form.]
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So this text, so sincere and heartfelt, hits extra hard after all of that. It makes Katsuki feel tight, but not necessarily in a bad way. Not the way he felt when his two friends, yes friends, forgot who he even was. This tightness doesn't feel constricting and painful, it's almost...soft. Warm. Like a hug.
He reads it, and rereads it, and rereads it again, not having anything to say back because Todoroki is right - he doesn't enjoy these things, face to face especially but even in text it's difficult for him to put what he feels into words. But Todoroki knows, he already said it all in his message. Katsuki's done all this - housed all of them and even made renovations to his home - to keep them all together under one roof, because he wants to share his space and his presence with them, his friends. His best friends. He doesn't need to say anything back, so he doesn't. They know, he's already shown them how important he thinks they are, and how much he cares about them. It feels a little cheap, but...he's not quite at the point where he can say things from the heart with such confidence. Katsuki needs just a little bit more of a push in the right direction, a little more time on his journey.
He saves the message, and makes a mental note to stop by Meryl's printing shop to have the thing printed out, so he can have something more physical to hold on to. This message is important, it means something, so Katsuki wants to keep it in hardcopy form.]