Chapter Text
“Just die!”
Red haze blurred his vision, leaving him with nothing but blurry images resembling human figures. His fight or flight instincts flared with a vengeance, every part of him screaming danger, and a burning rage left his throat feeling raw. His body moved on its own.
“Just die!”
“Quirkless freak!”
Midoriya fought for his life, vision glazed over as he swung wildly at every monster and villain that lunged at him. His heart was in his throat, a sort of exhilaration pounding in his chest as if alight in flames.
He felt bloodthirsty.
He felt terrified.
Shapeless beings littered the streets as Midoriya stumbled through, breath caught in his throat as he fought to keep his balance. The world felt lopsided, as if he was drunk, a sway in his gait as he forced himself to stay on his feet. Everything spun like a carousel as some shapes laid motionless while others disappeared into the red mist.
“I'll never forgive you.”
Before him, appearing from the shadows, a towering being in black stood over him, soaked in blood and grinning down at him with wide, crazed eyes and a toothy smile. It was flanked by two other beings, soaked in shadow and unrecognizable in the reddish darkness. The red hue pulsed, Midoriya wincing as his head pounded. Voices whispered nonstop, digging into his skull like power drills in his brain.
“I'll never forgive you.”
“Quirkless freak.”
“Just die!”
Anger rushed through him like a fountain, an innate desire to destroy, and Midoriya wondered if this was how it felt to live as a rabid animal. The world tilted and twirled, sounds rushing in and out, laughing and jeering, screaming and crying.
With a warcry, Midoriya lunged at the figure.
The two crashed to the floor, the other two figures quickly fleeing into the mist as Midoriya wrapped his fingers around the monster's neck. A laugh wanted to bubble up out of his throat as the monster bucked and struggled in his grip, soundless as the freckled teen dug his thumbs into the being's trachea. With a waning cry, the life fizzled out of it, the darkness melting away into nothingness as Midoriya sat triumphantly, his bloodlust quenched.
Satisfied, he stumbled back to his feet and turned back, walking along the path of carnage he'd left behind. He smiled gleefully, eyes wide and wild, as he wandered through the streets covered in his handiwork. The blackness oozed from his skin, dripping from his fingertips.
A laugh escaped him as he tripped over his own feet and toppled to the ground, resting in a puddle of blackish goo with a feeling of serenity calming the roaring ferocity threatening to overtake his being.
As he faded away, the red hue left with him...
…
..
.
Midoriya awoke to silence.
He was lying in the middle of the street, sky overcast as he pulled himself up to a seated position. His head pounded wildly against his skull, forcing him to stay on the ground as his vision warped and spun. The red was back, painting the ground and soaking his skin, and he stared at his hands blankly, no recognition in his mind whatsoever as he casually dug the gunk from underneath his fingernails.
Realization came slowly.
Looking over himself, his heart leaped into his throat as he took in the wetness covering his body, the scent of blood painfully strong in the air. He scrambled to his feet in a panic, splashes of puddles of blood under his sneakers as he took in the bodies surrounding him. He recognized none of them, but his stomach dropped all the same, tears clouding his vision as he stared down at his hands in horror.
He backed away and immediately stepped on something, his foot sliding out from under him and throwing him to the ground. Midoriya cringed, but pulled himself up despite the ache in his shoulders.
The sight of brunette made his veins go icy cold.
“U-...” he stuttered in disbelief. “Uraraka...?”
She was splayed out, face-down on the ground. Her hair was matted with blood, her clothes torn and bloodied. The leg Midoriya had tripped over was bent completely the wrong way. Under her, a child laid motionless, shielded in a failed attempt at protecting him from the wrath that had taken their lives.
“Uraraka?” His voice cracked, a trembling hand shaking her shoulder. “Uraraka?”
He could hear her bell-like laugh ringing in his head, her perfect, shining smile beaming at him with wonder and misplaced admiration as her lifeless corpse remained frozen in time before him. He couldn't see her face, but a part of him didn't dare turn her over, the rose-tinted image of her dusted cheeks and fluttering lashes almost sacred to his collapsing mind.
“Uraraka...” he sobbed. “Did... Did I...?”
It slowly dawned on him then that the unrecognizable figures around him were perhaps more familiar than he realized. Looking around with wide eyes, the greenette took in a torn cape here, a broken belt there, missing arms and legs and streaks of colors and red, red, red-
In the distance, Aldera Junior High stood tall, foreboding, and Midoriya had a sort of epiphany.
“No, please...” he cried softly, scrambling to his feet. “I didn't. I didn't.”
He scrambled to his feet, splashing through puddles of blood like rainwater as he rushed down the street. The bodies appeared less and less, but every single one sent a stab of pain through Midoriya's racing heart. Aldera cast a shadow over the city, a bell's toll ringing through the air like a harbinger of ruin, and finally, the flood of death reached the edge of oblivion.
In the middle of the street, Kacchan's unmoving form had Midoriya's knees going weak.
“I didn't!” he wailed.
His legs gave out on him as he reached his childhood friend, lying prone surrounded by a lake of crimson and empty eyes staring blankly at the overcast sky. Blood trickled from his parted lips, his trachea flayed and bruised and skin impossibly ashen. Midoriya's breath left him, the boy heaving for air as he gathered his old friend's body into his arms. His head hung lifelessly in his grip, his glazed eyes facing Aldera's gates.
“Please...” Midoriya pleaded desperately, tears streaming down his face. “Please...”
“Hands up!”
A gunshot rang out, and Midoriya jumped, eyes wide in terror. Lights blinded him as he was met with police and heroes lining the street, officers' guns raised high. Off to the side, All Might's boney form stepped out, face painted with grief and disappointment.
“Young Midoriya,” he sighed sadly. “Please, put him down.”
Midoriya did as told, lying him down gently as if lowering him into his casket himself. His hands shook as the blood stuck to his skin, and as he rose to his feet, he heard the sound of guns cocking. In the distance, there was mourning, wailing.
Midoriya turned to face death, hands raised in the air, and squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for the inevitable.
And then it was morning.
The scene shifted so fast that he didn't even notice. Birds chirped outside of his window as sunlight streamed through the curtains. Midoriya stared blankly at his ceiling, sweat soaking his sheets and his blanket long since kicked off in the throes of his nightmare. He was slow to sit up, glancing around his room at All Might's beaming face with a mind-numbing emptiness and bleeding exhaustion from a scene that he barely even remembered. Outside his room, he could hear laughing, some of his classmates already awake and starting their days bright and early.
And Midoriya felt empty.
“So, did I tell you about Kandai?”
Midoriya suppressed a startled yelp. He paused in his whisking for a moment, but only a moment. “No, I don't think you did. How is he?”
The freckled teen could only thank his lucky stars that it wasn't a school day with how...distracted he'd been. He'd barely thought to brush his teeth this morning before he came downstairs, his clothes wrinkled and disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. He was quick to grab a protein bar as his breakfast and escape back into his room before Kacchan returned from his morning training regime.
And to be honest, it felt wrong, blatantly avoiding him like that.
As weird as it was to say, it felt like it should be the other way around, considering what Midoriya had done, what he'd almost done. Kacchan was fearless, he knew that, but...
Either way, he'd done well to avoid him all day, so he had no way of knowing what the blonde might say about the whole fiasco and its aftermath, other than the fact that he stubbornly refused to let Midoriya apologize. Any other day, with Midoriya's track record of misinterpreting Kacchan's intentions, he might have thought that he was mad, that he did resent him for trying to literally murder him in cold blood. However-,
“BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE SAYING THAT!!!”
This time, Kacchan had made his thoughts clear.
Midoriya just wished that he'd let him do the same.
He supposed it didn't matter at the moment, after Uraraka had barged into his room and dragged him out by the ear to bake cookies of all things. “You need to get out and stretch your legs!” she'd announced, and Midoriya hadn't argued with her, content to just spend time by her side after his rampage had nearly brought her harm as well. He hadn't come as close to killing her, but the thought alone made him sick to his stomach.
Shadowy beings danced in his vision. Midoriya stubbornly blinked them away with his tears.
So far, Kacchan had been nowhere to be seen for as long as Midoriya had been in the kitchen, and he wasn't sure if he was grateful or disappointed. He didn't even know what he might say, let alone what he should do, but that tired, desperate apology was still at the tip of his tongue and it was driving him mad.
“He was suspended from his middle school for quirk misuse,” Uraraka explained, pouring sugar into the mixture. “And now everybody knows what he's been doing. No one else got in trouble, but I know there were other kids egging him on. I gave him my number and he called me complaining about how his mom has been treating him, too. I don't like her very much.”
The cupboard shut with a loud click. “Oh yeah, and he asked about you. Said to tell you that he hopes you're doing better. He was really scared, you know.”
Midoriya smiled sadly, taking a deep, shaky breath as he set the whisk aside and pulled the fridge door open. “I know you're worried, but you're not obligated to him.” he mumbled, rummaging for milk.
“I know that, but I'm a hero, you know? And he's just a kid.” Uraraka sighed. “I wanna be there for him, because nobody else seems to be. I wanna help him grow and be the best person he can be.”
“Yeah, I know.” said Midoriya. “And you are. I think the fact that you've been there for him after everything speaks volumes. I'm proud of you, Uraraka.”
“Ah-!” Uraraka nearly dropped the bottle of vanilla, catching it and quickly shoving it onto the table as she hunched away, hiding her face. “I mean-! I guess.”
“Are you okay?” Midoriya asked in concern. “You look like you have a fever.”
“Oh, I'm fine! Just fine!” she chirped. “I- Thank you, Deku.”
“You two are disgusting.”
Midoriya hadn't felt this kind of icy fear since middle school.
He froze, hands shaking as the whisk rattled in his grip. He didn't dare look at him, but he could feel red eyes boring into the side of his head, squinted in scrutiny. If Uraraka noticed Midoriya's apprehension, she made no effort to communicate. “Hey, Bakugou! We're making sugar cookies! You want some?”
“Ugh, as if. Too sweet.” Kacchan answered honestly, rummaging around the cupboards behind the greenette. He made no move to acknowledge him. “Keep your diabetes dough to yourselves.”
“Okay, but you're missing out~” Uraraka sang, and there, Midoriya could feel her eyes on him, too.
“Oh, I'm sure you fuckers will figure out how to screw it up.”
“Mean.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could see shadowy figures. Midoriya was terrified to look up, because if he did, he would see battered corpses strewn about the kitchen. He could already smell the hints of blood coating his fingertips.
“Deku,” Midoriya flinched at the sound of his voice, and he fought to suppress his shudder, though he was sure Kacchan noticed. “Don't forget, stupid. You're meeting me in Gym Gamma later.”
What?
Wait...
No.
It had slipped his mind, completely forgotten in the mess of thoughts and feelings and rage over the past few days of utter torture, that Midoriya had asked Kacchan to train with him today. It had been last week, when both had been far too busy with schoolwork, that he'd approached him, desperate for a chance to train his quirk and become stronger.
Please, not today of all days.
“Was that today?” he asked, heart in his throat.
And he didn't realize he was looking up until his eyes were zeroing in on gauze still wrapped around Kacchan's neck.
It was hardly noticeable, not a stain in sight and inconspicuous against his naturally pale skin, but it had warning bells prematurely screaming in Midoriya's head, a cacophony of sights and sounds from days since past making his ears ring and vision blur. He pulled his eyes away far too quickly, leaning forward against the counter and glaring down at the mix of ingredients sitting in the bowl in front of him, praying he wouldn't cry or throw up into it and ruin Uraraka's hard work.
The room was suddenly way too hot, and Midoriya jumped at the crackling sounds behind him. “Is that how you wanna play it?” The sneer in Kacchan's voice forced Midoriya to push the bowl away before his tears could fall in. “If I don't see you there in front of me in the next fifteen fucking minutes, I'm hunting your ass down. Fucking asshole.”
And he stormed out, his heavy footsteps Midoriya's only tell that he was gone. Even so, he didn't dare look up, eyes still on him as his trembling hands reached for the bowl and whisk.
“Nobody blames you.”
Midoriya jumped, throwing his dirty whisk across the room. “Huh?!”
Facing Uraraka head-on, her eyes were strangely misty. “Nobody blames you for what happened, least of all him.” she said. “It's been a long time since you were this jumpy around Bakugou. I don't think he likes it, either.”
Midoriya shrunk back, frown deep. “What makes you say that?”
“I can see it on his face. He looks more constipated than usual whenever you get all flighty.”
Midoriya huffed out a laugh at that, nodding along with a small, fond smile.
“Talk to him.” Uraraka urged. “You guys have gotten better at that.”
Admittedly, that was arguable, but Midoriya didn't say anything about it, staring down at his shoes with thoughts swirling around his head so fast that he couldn't pick out one from another. The rooftop was there in flashes, shadows of a desperate speech that they'd both known was pointless.
“I don't know if the Deku I know is home at the moment, but you're not gonna forgive yourself and I don't want you living with that.”
It terrified him, but suddenly, there was nowhere left to run. Kacchan was fearless, and he would keep his promise and come find him if he didn't show up.
He was terrified, but for very different reasons than he might have been once a long time ago.
And with that, some of the anger ebbed away.
“Okay.” Midoriya nodded. “Okay...”
“You showed up.”
Kacchan was already stretching by the time Midoriya arrived in Gym Gamma. In the meantime, he noticed that Kacchan had removed the gauze around his neck, revealing fading bruises around his trachea.
Midoriya didn't know what was worse. “Yeah. I did.”
Arching his back in one final stretch, Bakugou eyed him with a sneer. “Well? You better warm up, stupid. I'm not beating you because you were an idiot and pulled something.”
“I don't want to beat you like this!”
“R-Right.”
He couldn't figure out if the room was too hot or too cold as Kacchan wandered around the training grounds, Midoriya awkwardly stretching his arms as if preparing for a workout. There was an ugly roiling in his stomach, and in his muddled mind, he couldn't tell his nerves apart from a hero sense reaction.
And it scared him. It genuinely terrified him. Never before had he had this kind of power at his fingertips, always the powerless Deku at the butt of everyone's jokes. Now, he could crush a skull with a single bare hand-
Or someone's windpipe-
Never before had he feared his own power. It had been nothing in his mind but a blessing until now.
I'm so sorry...
It was right on the tip of his tongue. One misstep and he'd mutter it by accident. He wanted those words to leave his mouth so badly, just so Kacchan could at least know, be sure, that Midoriya hadn't been himself when he'd-
Almost-
He felt sick. He couldn't do this.
Quiet as a mouse, Midoriya slowly inched towards the exit, his knees buckling and scarred hands trembling. His eyes were trained on where he'd last seen Kacchan, checking the sturdiness of different platforms after an accident a while back had almost gotten a couple 1-B students killed. The explosions had since gone quiet, and it had Midoriya's hackles raised as his fingers curled around the door handle, gently pulling it open.
He'd never jumped so high or screamed so loud as when a heated palm slammed it shut.
Kacchan's eyes were shadowed when he turned to face him. “You're running away.”
“K-Kacchan!” Midoriya stammered, backing away. It took every ounce of training he'd obtained to not trip over his own feet. “I- Sorry, I- I-I-I'm not feeling well today. I don't know what's wrong with me, I just don't feel good and-”
He nearly fell flat on his back when Kacchan surged forward, shoving him deeper into Gym Gamma and away from escape. “You get the upper hand in an unfair fight one time and you think you're better than me?!”
“Unfair f-?”
Distantly, he could taste blood in his mouth, feel it leaking from his eyes and dripping from his chin.
He was shoved again, thrown back into a makeshift pillar of rubble. “Fight me! I thought you weren't my punching bag anymore!”
“I can't!” Midoriya shouted.
“You can't!?” Kacchan hollered in disbelief. “Got cold feet now?! Over one little quirk accident?!”
Midoriya didn't know what possessed him in that moment, faint words of disgust and hatred churning in his head as the stickiness of blood made his fingers itch. “It wasn't just a little quirk accident!” he yelled, grabbing fistfuls of Kacchan's tank top. “You could've died! What would I have done, then?”
“Stupid Deku, we've been over this!” Kacchan shot back. “This sort of thing happens to heroes all the time!”
“That doesn't make it any less terrifying!” Midoriya roared. “It doesn't make my feelings less valid!”
Midoriya hadn't meant to push back in his frustration, One For All crackling up his arms as the two lost their balance and fell to the cold ground. Kacchan's skin was comfortably warm, heart beating rhythmically behind his ribcage and chest rising with every breath, but he didn't take the time to appreciate the warmth of his proximity as he pushed himself up, straddling his hips as his grip on his shirt tightened.
Kacchan was looking up at him with familiar rage, eyes twitching and fingers digging into the dirt. “Who do you think you-?!”
“You're important to me, don't you get it?!”
He didn't notice the crack in his voice, nor did he take in Kacchan's apprehensive expression as a tear dripped onto his face, harmlessly rolling down the side. Midoriya didn't know what he looked like in that moment, but he must have been disgusting, sniveling all over him like this. “There are so many things I hate about you, but you're also one of the most important people in my life and if something happened to you, because of me, by me, I-!”
Another tear fell, and another. Midoriya slammed his fist against the ground. “I can't stand the thought of it!” he cried. “I can't!”
Head hung low, the only sound that could be heard throughout the gym was Midoriya's own sobbing. His hair stuck to his soaked face as he desperately tried to wipe the oncoming tears away, but to no avail. It barely registered to him just how quiet Kacchan was being until he saw grinding teeth through his watery vision.
“Get off of me.” he ordered, his hand suddenly in Midoriya's face. The blast stung, throwing him across the room with soot burning his eyes and smoke in his lungs. There were scratches in his skin where he'd skidded across the ground, rolling to a stop against one of the many plateaus littering the grounds. “Disgusting.” he heard distantly.
“Kacchan...” Midoriya whined, rubbing at his burnt face. “That was a cheap shot...!”
“You're always so weirdly paranoid.” Kacchan sneered. “Can't give less of a shit about yourself, but you cry if someone so much as stubs their toe.”
Midoriya's eyes widened in fear as Kacchan slowly walked towards him. “We're heroes, you idiot! Stupid shit's gonna happen, and it ain't your job to babysit everyone!”
Walking turned to jogging, and Midoriya found himself backpedaling from a raised, smoking right hand. “Get off your high horse and accept that not everything is your responsibility, Golden Child!”
Midoriya backflipped over the attack, cartwheeling away with surprising elegance as he stayed on the defensive. “But I hurt you! And Uraraka, a-a-and others! I'm supposed to protect you all and I-!”
“I don't need protecting!” Kacchan snapped, consecutive explosions forcing Midoriya to run for cover. “Especially from the likes of you!”
“You looking down on me!?”
“N- No-! I'm sor-!”
“I don't want you to!”
A familiar frustration was coursing through his veins, one that always pulsed beneath his skin when his outstretched hand was slapped away. Midoriya leaped out, pushing against the rock he'd been hiding behind and shooting through the air. He couldn't help but think he saw Kacchan grinning as he spun in the air, coming down with a powerful ax kick that the blonde barely dodged.
“That's more like it!” he heard him shout. “Come at me!”
One For All crackling through his body, energy erupted from his being after he sent kick after kick flying at Kacchan, only for the blonde to easily evade. “You're getting sloppy!”
“I don't wanna hurt-!” The following explosion sent him flying right into a plateau.
“Get that idea out of your head!” Kacchan snarled. “We can take care of ourselves! We're fine!”
Uraraka's determined face flashed in his mind's eye.
With a battle cry, Midoriya sent a Detroit smash rocketing right at Kacchan. It barely nicked him, but the air pressure sent him flying, bouncing off the ground and rolling into a crouched position. When he looked up, Midoriya was met with a manic grin, eyes wild as he stared the greenette down like a predator about to pounce. It was a terrifying look, almost demonic, and if Midoriya was anybody else, he might have run away as fast as he could.
But Midoriya knew better. Running sets off chasing instincts, after all.
With twin shouts, the two charged each other, meeting in the middle with a fearsome clash of fire and smoke and power, sending them both careening back and forth again, unstoppable in their vigor. There was no terror in that moment, even if it would rear its head again that night, in his waking hours and relentless nightmares. The fear wouldn't go away so suddenly, but in that moment, they could fight like nothing happened, as if there were no cracks in the road to trip over.
They could fight like hero partners. Like equals.
And Midoriya.
Felt.
Alive.
