He’s looking through a screen. He’s there, but he’s not. He’s walking, but he’s not commanding his body to do so.
It’s cold, Katsuki thought. It doesn’t matter. It’s gonna take more than some dumb river to take me down!
What is this?
He met gazes with his friends on the log.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“He’s fine! Kacchan’s really strong!”
Katsuki grinned. He was really strong, wasn’t he?
“Hurry and get back up here!”
He shook his hair out and grinned. “‘Kay, no problem!”
He braced himself, getting ready to stand, when--
“Are you alright?” Deku was there, above him, hand outstretched. “Can you stand?”
His shadow covered Katsuki’s face when he leaned closer. His eyes were wide and round from when Katsuki sat. He looked concerned, almost as if--Is he..?--almost as if he pitied him. Is he looking down on me? Deku, pity him? Deku,the least amazing, quirkless, loser?
“It would’ve been bad if you hit your head,” Deku said. He leaned closer, hand still outstretched. Don’t look at me with that face!
Ah, I see. Just a dumb memory.
He shook his head.There’s no way Deku could look down on him. He was the best and the strongest and Deku had nothing. That’s why he was a Deku. Katsuki grinned, taking a hold of the hand offered to him. He looked up, ready to get up again and save the day from the villains--
Deku was still looking. I said don’t look at me like that!
Katsuki saw red.
He felt Deku’s hold loosening, felt the tug on his arm. He grinned.
“K-Kacc--! Let go! You’re hurting--Kacchan!”
Katsuki squeezed harder, some sick pleasure brewing at Deku’s cries, growing louder and more anguished by the minute. Do you see now, Deku?
He slowly stood, using the momentum of his movement to reverse their positions. Looking through his hair, Katsuki met eyes with Deku. The latter’s eyes were wet with tears. Deku opened his mouth but the only sounds that came out were muffled whimpers. Do you see the difference between us now, Deku?
That’s not my voice. That’s not my fucking voice.
Katsuki applied more pressure to his grip. Deku screamed. He only squeezed harder.
“Oh? What’s this?” he inquired, voice sweet as honey. “Cat got your tongue? Or maybe your hand?”
Hey! What the hell? Katsuki told his body to stop, but it would not listen.
Katsuki bent to Deku’s level, pulling him so they were chest to chest, his mouth by Deku’s ear. “Do you see? You need to be strong if you want to be a hero. You’re useless. You’ll never have what it takes.”
“K-Kacchan?” Deku whispered. Katsuki leaned back, taking in his petrified expression. He was paralyzed in shock? Fear? Katsuki didn’t care.
Those words aren’t mine. Those thoughts aren’t mine, dammit!
What’s this? “Oh?” He brought his other hand to Deku’s face, thumb brushing at the sensitive skin under his eyelids. “What’s this? You stopped crying.” Deku looked taken aback by his soft tone and gentle touch. A ghost of a smile passed over his face and he looked hopeful for half a second. “Boo. That’s no fun.”
He continued the gentle motion of his thumb on Deku’s face. What a helpless face. He’s so innocent. I want to ruin him.
Who the hell are you!? That’s not me! I wouldn’t think like that!
“Are you sure?”
Katsuki suddenly became aware of the presence behind him, as well as the arms laid across his shoulders and the knees under his armpits. He whipped his head around, coming face to face with the splitting image of him from the past.
“What the hell--”
“I’ll ask you again. Are you sure?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
The arm draped around his left shoulder reached up, a little hand grabbing his chin. His head was forced to face the front. There, the image of the dream was projected on the wall.
“You say you wouldn’t think that way, but that’s a lie, right?”
“You know you wanted to make him cry that day. Cause he defied you, right? It’s okay, I wanted to kill him too,” Young Katsuki said.
“Don’t fuck with me! I don’t know what kind of fucking game--” he began, but was cut off.
“Ah, geez. This is what I hate about grown ups, they never admit what they feel.” Young Katsuki sighed. “Look.”
Katsuki was slapped with enough force to turn his head, making him spit blood on the floor. He looked at his younger counterpart in shock. The grip on his chin returned, ten times stronger than before.
How the hell is he so strong?
“You say you wouldn’t do that? You don’t want that?” Young Katsuki snickered. “Liar.”
Katsuki couldn’t speak. He stood, petrified and at the mercy of his younger self.
“You wanna know how I know? Guess!”
Katsuki stood silent.
“You’re no fun,” he pouted. Young Katsuki leaned into his ear. “I know because I’m you. That,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the projection. “Is you. You say you wouldn’t? You are."
“Shut the hell up,” Katsuki growled. “I’m nothing like you.”
Young Katsuki pulled back and laughed. “That’s a good one! Ah, but you’re rethinking it now, right?”
Katsuki’s eyes widened.
“Yay! I got it right!” he said. He smiled, but his aura screamed of murderous intent. “Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell? Did you forget already? Idiot.”
He slapped Katsuki upside the head, hard enough to send his head flying back.
Goddamn it! Why am I letting this brat kick my ass? Why can’t I move!?
Young Katsuki grinned again. “I’m you, remember? But I’m better! I can admit all the stuff you can’t so it’s fine!”
Katsuki opened his mouth to respond, but his head was forced to the projection again.
“Oh! It’s my favorite part!” Young Katsuki exclaimed. He pulled himself up, so that he was sitting on Katsuki, with his legs resting on his shoulders. “Look at us being awesome!”
“Your tears were so pretty,” Katsuki said, running his thumb gently against Deku’s lower lashes. The idiot was blushing, much to Katsuki’s endless amusement. He was always so nervous. He leaned into Deku’s personal space; their noses were almost touching. He could feel Deku’s shaky breaths, but they weren’t from nerves. They weren’t from fear. Unacceptable.
“Hey, Deku?” Katsuki asked, innocence on his tongue.
“Could you cry for me again?” Katsuki asked, fingers brushing over Deku’s eyebrows, and trailing back down to their place at Deku’s cheek. He looked confused.
“W-what?” Deku asked, leaning ever so slightly away from Katsuki. He cocked his head to the side. “Cry?”
“Yea. Your tears were so pretty. Can I have them back?”
“I don’t und--”
Katsuki buried his fingers in Deku’s cheek, nails piercing the flesh and drawing blood. At the same time, he activated his quirk in the hand holding Deku’s. Deku’s works were choked off with a scream, tears springing to his eyes and falling down his cheeks.
Katsuki hardened his grip once again, laughing at the sound of the bones in Deku’s hand shattering. More tears came out. Deku bit his lip to hold in his screams, but he wasn’t quite successful.
So pretty …
“No way,” Katsuki murmured, falling to his knees. Young Bakugou tugged on his hair.
“Hey! Isn’t that the best part? It goes crack! and shhhh~ when he starts crying! Deku’s such a loser!” he laughed, bouncing up and down on Katsuki’s shoulders.
‘What the fuck!? What the hell is wrong with you!?” Katsuki questioned, trying to buck his younger self off. The legs on his shoulders crossed across his neck, cutting off his air supply.
“Hmm. Just ask yourself! I told you, I’m you!” There was a pause. “Well, sorta. I guess I’m your heart? The dark side? Your sub-continent? Sub-connis? That word.”
“I t-told you, I’m nothing like that!” he gritted out, trying to suck air into his lungs.
“Oh, I forgot,” Young Katsuki said, unwrapping his legs from around Katsuki’s throat. Immediately, he was thrown into a coughing fit, to which Young Katsuki responded by hitting him in the back hard enough to make him expel more blood.
“Get it together! If you can’t handle that, we can’t make it to the top.”
“There..” Katsuki started, wheezing. “There is no ‘we’. I will make it to the top. Then I’ll kick your sorry ass straight back to hell.”
“You’re a fucking sociopath! You just broke his hand for no reason! All I did was slap it away!”
“Hmm? But,” Young Bakugou hummed. Katsuki felt the same crippling presence he felt earlier on his neck. His legs shook. He was paralyzed. What the fuck? How…
“...didn’t you do the same thing?” his voice was deceptively innocent. “We only broke his hand, but last time we broke his entire arm and fried the other one.”
“So, by your thinking wouldn’t we both be sociopaths? Not that it matters since we’re the same.”
“But you don’t wanna say that right? It’s okay, I’ll say it. It’s what I’m here for, after all!”
Shut the hell up.
“Hey, do you think everyone else’s tears would be as pretty as Deku’s?”
“Didn’t I say,” Katsuki said, fists clenching at his sides, “not to fuck with me!?”
Katsuki didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly his childhood self was ten feet in front of him on the ground. He was there before Young Katsuki could move, he was there, punching him in the face.
A wail reached his ears, and he looked down, expecting his younger self, but he was met with--
“That wasn’t very nice,” Young Bakugou whispered in his ear, hand on his shoulder. “But it felt good didn’t it?”
Katsuki turned his head to look at him, mouth opening and closing. He turned to face Deku, trembling on the floor. He held his cheek in his good hand. When he looked up, he was covered in blood from his head injury.
“Kacchan? Why? What did I do?” he asked, voice shaking and eyes shiny.
“Come on, say it. The sooner you admit that you’re human garbage, the sooner we can fill the world with our rot.”
Katsuki somehow found his vice. “Like hell I will!”
“Still stubborn? Hmm. Oh!”
Suddenly, Young Katsuki was behind Deku, draping his arms over his shoulders from behind. “Hey, Deku?”
Deku turned his head to Young Katsuki, smile lighting up his face.
What the fuck.
“You don’t care right?” he asked, leaning in closer. “You don’t care how much I hurt you, right? You’ll always be mine to walk all over, right?”
Deku nodded excitedly.
“He’s so naive. I wanna burn him.”
This is so fucked up.
He gripped Deku’s chin in the same manner he did Katsuki’s turning him to the right to face him. Unlike Katsuki, however, Deku held his position.
“So, if I did this,” he grabbed Deku’s broken hand, slotting his fingers between the limp joints, and squeezed. “You’ll be okay?”
Deku winced, but nodded again. “Kacchan’s my friend, so it’s okay!” Young Katsuki held eye contact with Deku for a few seconds before looking over to where Katsuki stood.
It’s fucking not.
“See? He says it’s okay. Will you give in now?”
“What made you think my answer’d change after that shit?” Katsuki growled. He was shaking.
“Ah, okay. Maybe if I hurt him a little more, you’ll see? We have so much potential being wasted, you know. To be a villain, I mean. Everyone says so. Deku, stand up."
Ever the loyal soldier, Deku obeyed his command. “Every time I hit you, stand back up unless I’m holding you. We’re playing a game. Got it?”
Katsuki got a dreadful feeling in his gut. Why can’t I move?
“Oh,” Young Katsuki said, turning to face him. “Don’t bother moving. That’s cheating. If you do, I’ll kill you.”
There was no lie in his voice.
“Well then,” he said after a moment's pause. “Here I go!”
He stepped behind Deku, immediately setting off an explosion at point blank range against his back.
How the hell? Those are bigger than the ones I do now! Deku cried as he fell, but he stood back up again.
“Deku, you’re so dumb! I told you I was coming but you didn’t dodge!”
This isn’t fair. Deku was fucking quirkless when we were four!
“Or was he?”
Katsuki gasped, not having realized he’d spoken out loud.
“You didn’t believe his story, right? That was crap,” he said casually, swinging with his right arm to hit Deku from behind. Katsuki winced. That was the one with the broken hand.
“He lied. So this is punishment for making fun of us. No one looks down on us.”
He swung again, knocking Deku off balance. Before he could fall, Young Katsuki grabbed Deku’s arm, using his other hand to create explosions to pivot on his right foot.
Mini Katsuki swung Deku in an arch over his head, slamming him against the ground below him.
I know this fight.
Deku bounced off the ground with the force of this impact.
His younger self nudged Deku with his foot. “Hey, Deku! You still alive?” He kicked Deku onto his stomach. Deku shakily brought his arms up, trying to pull himself up. Young Katsuki stomped him back down, keeping a foot on his back. He took a squat position next to Deku’s head. “Oi!”
Katsuki could’ve cried. He was barely alive, yet he still turned his face from the ground to look at the demon in front of him.
“I’m gonna break your arm, okay? And probably burn the other one.”
Katsuki jolted in his frozen spot. No. No no no no no…
He roughly flipped Deku onto his back. Katsuki looked away. He covered his ears to block out the screams and brutal sounds. Why can’t I fucking move!? Help him, you fucking idiot!
“Hey! Now we match completely!”
Katsuki focused his gaze, immediately wishing he hadn’t. There Deku was, on the ground, one arm twisted grotesquely and the other charred. He gagged. The splitting image of how he was after their practice match.
“Ooh! I just got the best idea! Maybe if I ruin his arms now, he won’t be able to challenge us in the future! Aren’t I the best?”
He was gonna throw up. Katsuki was seriously gonna throw up. What kind of fresh hell was this? That bastard looked so happy when he said it, too. Like there’s nothing wrong with that. What the fuck what the fuck, what the fuck. This is so wrong. This is so fucking wrong.
“Deku, it’s okay right? I can? Cause we’re friends?” Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look...please don’t fucking look.
“Of course! You’re my friend!”
Don’t sound like that. Don’t sound so fucking happy.
“Okay, here I go!”
Don’t fucking touch him.
“Go to hell!” Katsuki screamed. He charged towards the duo, pulling his arm back for a swing. His younger counterpart raised his finger, pointing at him. He froze in his tracks. He looked down to where he was pointing, pinpointing the area where his heart would be.
Katsuki’s eyes flew open; he sat up so quickly he got whiplash. He took a deep breath, trying to dampen the echo of his heartbeat. Soon, on breath turned to two, then three, then twelve--
He set off an explosion in his face. Wrinkling his nose at the smell of his singed hair, he swung his feet from his bed to the floor. It was only then that he became aware of the iron grip he had on his chest. Disgusted, he snatched his hand away. There was blood underneath his fingernails.
“Son of a--argh!” he exclaimed, slamming his face into his pillow. After a few seconds, he sat up again, pulling his knees to his chest. Ba-dumpBa-dumpBa-dumpBa-dump…
It just so happened that Katsuki was a lot more self aware than what people gave him credit for. He’d done his fair share of self exploring on his journey to figure out exactly why he was a walking shit show. (So far, his results were still inconclusive.) Despite this, he knew exactly what emotions he felt at all times and--for the most part--knew why. He just didn’t tell anyone. Better to let them think he’s an emotionally stunted dumbass. And why the hell should he? His feelings were no one’s fucking business but his own.
Point was, Katsuki knew he was an ass. More than an ass. The nastiest piece of shit around with a ridiculous fucking complex that could get a man killed. He knew why he was such a dick to Deku. He knew he was inferior. He knew Deku could surpass him. He knew he wasn’t the best, and that he chose to cover up these useless feelings of weakness by being tough. The more aggressive you were, the less likely people were to fuck with you, was how he saw it. Katsuki laughed. He was a fucking mess.
He looked down, setting off small explosions in the palm of his hand. Quirks. Why were they so important? Not even 85% of the human population had quirks, so it’s not like being quirkless was all that uncommon.
Okay, maybe it was. Even so, was their society so reliant on quirks that there was no going back? Some brat got a quirk out of nowhere and then they started popping up everywhere, right? The opposite could happen at any time. Someone could lose their quirk. They could slowly but surely disappear. The thought scared him. As shitty as it was to admit, Katsuki knew that without his quirk, he’d be nothing. He’d get no more special treatment. He’d just be another dumbass delinquent with nothing going for him. Being a hero was all he had. Without it, he was insignificant. He was nothing without his quirk, yet Deku was everything. Quite simply, he was jealous. He always had been.
I know because I’m you.
Katsuki grit his teeth.
Fucking Deku, who’d rush out to save someone, even knowing damn well he couldn’t do anything. That fucktard would probably eat shit if it was to help someone else . Deku, everyone's hero. Deku, who still cared about him, even after 11 years of his shit. Deku, who was better than him in every single. way
A quiet boom! interrupted his train of thought.
“I’m not actually like that, right…?” Katsuki asked himself, voice barely a whisper. He snorted. “Yea fucking right.”
He and Deku didn’t get along. He knew that. Shit, he’d go so far as to say that he hated the fucker. But he’d never--he’d never do that. You already have though, haven’t you?
He beat Deku until he was on the brink of death out of jealousy .
"Hey! Now we match completely! ”
There it was, The one thing he didn’t want to admit. Because, he knew, deep inside, he wasn’t any better than the monster from his dream. What kind of cliche bullshit?
“Ah, but you’re rethinking it now, right?”
He bit his lip until it bled.
“Midoriya! Wait up!”
Izuku looked back, surprised to see Kirishima running towards him. Well, that’s unusual . He put his hands on his knees, taking a few seconds to catch his breath.
Izuku smiled nervously. “Hello…”
There was an awkward silence. Izuku was startled when he finally spoke.
“So, listen,” Kirishima started. He seemed more serious than usual, which got Deku’s attention. “It’s about Bakugou.” Eh?
“Kacchan? What about him?” he asked nervously. He really hoped this wouldn’t be a repeat of last year.
“Sorry if it seems like I’m prying, but...you knew him before he came here, right?” Kirishima asked hesitantly.
“Yes,” he confirmed, arching a brow. Why was that relevant now?
“Do you...notice anything...off? Like he’s been behaving differently?” Kirishima questioned. The expression he wore was starting to worry Izuku.
“Um…” he trailed off, wracking his brain for any abnormalities. It was then that he noticed he hadn’t been paying attention to Katsuki for once. With the change in schools and his training, he didn’t really have time to pay attention. He couldn’t tell Kirishima that though. Right?
“No? Not really? I mean, I’ve been really busy so I haven’t had time to talk to him--not that we talk a lot anyways--so I could be missing something, but if you think--”
“I see. I don’t know him that well yet but I’ve got a feeling…” he muttered to himself. “Well! If you say you don’t think anything is off, I’ll take your word. I’m still gonna keep watch, though! It’s a man’s duty to look out for his peers!” Kirishima exclaimed, hands on his hips. He turned on his heel, jogging back to the front doors of the school. Strange guy. Izuku was itching to pull out his notebook and take some notes, but he realized that’d be creepy and inappropriate. Maybe if I ask him?
He followed Kirishima’s footsteps, albeit at a much slower pace than the former. Kacchan’s not well? It must be really obvious if Kirishima picked up on it. Or maybe he’s just good at reading people? I haven’t heard anyone else mention it …
Is he okay? Did he move? Wait no he didn’t move I would know about that...maybe he has a cold or a fever but wait if he had a fever he wouldn’t be here but then again it is Kacchan and he’s super stubborn oh crap what if he faints at school will I have to take him home wait no they’d call his parents what the heck Izuku
“--but then again he might not have a cold and he could just have a bad day everyone has those right even though on bad days kacchan is louder not quieter oh man am I overthinking this? I bet I’m overthinking this…”
A laugh. Deku broke his laser like focus on his shoes to look across the walkway. “He’s talking to himself,” one girl snickered.
“Shhhhh! Don’t let him hear you!”
“Crap, he’s looking over here!”
“Well don’t look back! Pretend you didn’t see!”
Izuku sighed. I’ve gotta stop doing that.
“Hey, hey! Baku-bro!” Kirishima called out, ruffling Katsuki’s hair.
“Don’t ever fucking call me that again, you off-brand Sega wannabe! Also, don’t fucking touch me,” he grumbled, smacking Kirishima’s hand away from his fringe. He heard a low whistle from his left.
“Tou-chy . Or should I say no touchy?” Kaminari asked, plopping his lunch on Katsuki’s desk.
“I fucking hate you both,” he muttered, pulling out his own bento. “Eat shit.”
Katsuki ignored their conversation in favor of pulling out his chopsticks and opening his bento. Just as he was eating his first bite of pork, he felt a buzz from his pocket. He growled, snatching his phone from his pants. He was ready to cuss out the son of a bitch who interrupted--
Message from Eijirou Kirishima (1)
Katsuki’s eye twitched.
Eijirou: Meanie ):
You: Also you do your smileys the wrong way, dipshit .
You: It goes like this :(
Eijirou: U have suprisingly good grammar when u text. Nvr would have guessed
You: You* surprisingly* you* never*
Eijirou: :(*** still a meanie tho
You: Fuck you. Also why are you texting me? I’m right fucking here.
Eijirou: u would have ignored me if i talked.
“Speaking of which,” Katsuki said, tapping the screen a few more times on his phone.
“Speaking of which…?”
“Gimme a fucking sec,” Katsuki droned.
Would you like to save your changes?
He tapped on the ‘yes’ icon.
‘Knuckles the Echidna Dipshit’ now added to contacts!
“How the hell did you get my number?” Katsuki questioned, glaring at the redhead in question.
“Oh. Um...phone a friend?” Kirishima asked sheepishly, trying to dodge the question.
“Nice try, dipshit. Last I checked, we were in Japan.”
“Woah! Bakugou! What the hell are you eating!?” Kaminari suddenly yelled, attracting the attention of the majority of the class.
“I dunno. Something my mom made, probably.”
Iida, always the hero, sprints over in record time to assess the situation.
“What’s wrong Kamina--good god what in heaven’s graces is that!?” Iida exclaimed, pointing at Katsuki’s bento.
“Eh? The hell are you two on?” Bakugou asked, narrowing his eyes.
“B-Baku-bro...it’s red.” Kirishima said, putting an arm on Katsuki’s shoulder.
“Dude!” Kirishima yelled, pointing a finger at the alarmingly red food. “It’s brighter than my hair!”
“Your point is…?” Katsuki questioned, bringing his chopsticks to his mouth. Uraraka swooped in from behind--the fuck did she come from? --and whacked the chopsticks out of his hand. “What the hell!”
“Oh god. It’s making my eyes water from here…” Yaoyorozu moaned, covering her mouth.
“Can someone tell me what the fucking problem is!?” Katsuki grunted, annoyed. He just wanted to eat his bento in peace.
“I’ll do the manly thing and test it for poison!” Kirishima stated proudly, plucking a piece of--alarmingly red--pork from the box and plucking it in his mouth. He then proceeded to immediately spit it out. Katsuki would describe the upcoming events as followed:
Kirishima fell on the floor, fanning his tongue and begging someone for water, because “AHH! AH! BAKUGOU WHAT THE HECK!! OWOWOW!”
Which is turn, caused Kaminari to call bullshit and try it for himself. He ended up overheating and short circuiting himself like a fucking idiot.
Iida left to get water, and when he came back, three more had fallen victim.
Some-fucking-how someone got Todoroki to try, and the idiot ended up freezing his mouth shut trying to counteract the heat. Apparently it wasn’t enough, though, cause he still looked very pink and unsettled twenty minutes later.
Uraraka thought it was a good idea to make a contest out of it, cause there’s no way it could be that spicy, right? (Katsuki didn’t think so, but apparently it was.)
Throughout the entire ordeal, Katsuki kept eating. However, no one apparently noticed, because when Tokoyami pointed out the empty plate, everyone was confused. When asked, he said: “I fucking ate it cause it was mine.” much to the disbelief of his classmates. Katsuki thought they were all fucking idiots. He couldn’t help but smile at his desk when the whole ordeal was over. This almost felt...normal, which was weird. Katsuki wasn’t very well liked or often approached, which he was fine with. He made it that way. But seeing everyone laughing and interacting with him like they were friends, it was nice. Refreshing.
“Hey, do you think everyone else’s tears would be as pretty as Deku’s? ”
A chill went up Katsuki’s spine. He shook his head, but the smug face of that bastard from the night before wouldn’t go away. His face wouldn’t go away.
“Got somethin’ in your hair?” Kirishima joked, ruffling Katsuki’s hair again. Katsuki didn’t respond. “Bakugou?”
Katsuki didn’t hear them. Their voices drifted in and out of his consciousness.
“Hey, bro...ar......okay? ”
Everyone on the ground. Beaten. Broken.
“-he alright? ”
Blood. So much fucking blood. Why was he the only one standing? He was laughing. Why was he laughing?
“Do you think everyone else’s tears would be as pretty as Deku’s?"
He was crying. Why was he crying? Did he do this?
“--’s wrong!? ”
As he gazed blankly at the faces of his comrades, he didn’t see smiles. He saw corpses, bloody and bruised.
“-- n’t know! He just stopped responding! ”
He raised his hands to his face.
He watched, as they trembled in the chill of blood.
“You’re rethinking it now, right? ”
“...rethinking it.. ”
" ...now… ”
“ ...right? ”
Katsuki blinked. The echo of a strike registered, along with his gaze focusing to the corner of the room. Slowly, his senses returned. He turned his gaze upwards to meet the worried stares of his classmates. Deku was front and center, one hand on his shoulder and the other raised as if to strike him.
Whatever the hell just happened, it happened in class this time. Deku was the one who brought him out of it. He looked around, eyes landing on Kirishima. He wore the same expression he did on the day of the practice exam. A squeeze on his shoulder brought him back to the present.
Suddenly, he was looking straight at Deku. He’s breathing really hard. Katsuki’s eyes widened as he realized he’d unconsciously matched his breathing rhythm to Deku’s. He wondered what face he wore, to get a reaction like that. Deku was trembling, eyes wide and scared, but he wouldn’t look away. For once, Katsuki was the first one to break his gaze. Feeling a weight in his hand, he looked down to see the brokwn corner of the desk clenched in his hand. Did I… ?
“Bakugou…” Kirishima called quietly, arm reaching out.
Then it all clicked.
"Don’t touch me! ” he yelled. She shoved Deku’s arm arm his shoulder and threw himself backwards, just as a huge explosion left his hands. He didn’t need to look to see that he’d destroyed the back half of the classroom.
He didn’t look up, couldn’t look up. He scrambled up, tripped over himself one, two times, before slamming the door open and running out.
Midoriya stood in shock, with his hand poised like it was still on Katsuki’s shoulder. He met eyes with Kirishima, who looked just as shocked as he felt. Together, with the class, they held one collective thought: What the hell was that?
Shit, shit, shit. What the hell!? Katsuki thought, running through the building. Why was this the second time he was running from Deku? Why couldn’t he get his shit together? That bastard.
“You’re rethinking it now, right?”
“Get out of my fucking head!” he bellowed, hopping over the stairwell.
“We have so much potential...”
No, I’m not. I’m fucking not! He didn’t know where he was running. He just needed to get away from it all.
“Just admit you’re garbage. ”
Never! I won’t. I’m not like you. I’ll never be like you. You aren’t apart of me! Leave me the hell alone!
“Will you give in now? ”
And thus, it began.
I never will.
This marked the start of Katsuki Bakugou’s downward spiral...
...into complete and utter self destruction.
“Will you give in now? ”