Chapter Text
There is so much screaming .
Everything is so loud . Everything hurts . He can’t take it. He can’t do it. He doesn’t know what’s going on.
His surroundings are an absolute darkness, a void of nothing and everything at the same time. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. Why can’t he see anything? Why can’t he feel anything?
Eyes. So many eyes. Looking at him, peering at him. Judging him. Criticizing him. Dead. Dead. He’s dead. The eyes have killed him.
Water.
He’s submerged. But he can see. He can breathe. He can move.
A glow deep in the confines of the sea. It’s attractive. Seductive. Pulling. Luring.
He swims.
He swims chasing the light, seeking what lies beyond it. He swims so, so, so, so deep. He’s trying to find the light. Where is the light? Where does it lead? It doesn’t matter. He must reach it.
His head crashes through the ripples in the river as it breaks through it and to the surface. He’s sitting in a river. He’s seen this river before, hasn’t he? But where? Where?
“Katsuki! Stop bothering Izuku!”
“Kacchan! Are you okay?”
Where has he seen this place? Where? It’s in whispers, in singular, isolated words. But he can’t remember… Why can’t he remember?
Laughter in the distance.
He walks along the path next to the river– when did he stand and get out? Doesn’t matter. He searches for the joyful voices. For the giggles and the laughs.
Splash!
He peers over the bushes as he observes the river. It’s him. Why is he in the river? How did he get here?
He watches himself sit motionless in the river for a few moments. Then everything goes down. The light returns.
There’s a creature. A being from another Earth. Another universe. Another reality. But wait, no. He knows this creature. But why? How?
Green. The light is green. It’s green and vivid and real and striking and he’s being pulled towards it– or well, at least river-him is. The creature, who Katsuki can now describe as humanoid, reaches out to him. Its eyes open. White and wide and glowing…
The light gets brighter.
The creature reaches out a hand as does himself in the river. They get close, so close, so close, they’re almost touching.
The lights get brighter and brighter and brighter and brighter and-
…
Katsuki wakes up with a weird feeling in his mind. What was he dreaming about again? God, it’s right on the edge of his mind… Whatever.
He rubs his eyes as he gets out of bed and pulls his middle-school uniform off his chair. He heads for the shower and spends little of his precious time getting ready for school. It’s not long before he’s eating breakfast in the quiet of his house. He’s woken up early. Huh. No matter. Being early won’t hurt anyone.
He writes a note, a short one as he’s never been fond of theatrical declarations. A quick goodbye to his mother and a short reminder to visit Auntie Inko at some point today. He hoists his backpack on his shoulder and leaves the house.
The streets are busy, something Katsuki appreciates today, as he’s not ready to face his thoughts, and he walks at a quick pace and it’s not long before he arrives at the massive gates of his school. He waits out his time until the beginning of classes, reading some pointless book he’d been assigned for class. He sees people walking in, but he’s made a habit of arriving seconds before the bell so he doesn’t pay attention… Although… is it him or are most people from his class arriving early? No, it must be some weird time perception thing. Everything is as it always has been. Whatever.
By the time there’s 5 minutes left to class, Katsuki finally heads up to class. He is ready to stand at the doorway, as usual, but he’s interrupted by Tsubasa.
The bat-winged boy claps him on the back a few times, a bright smile on his face as he laughed and started pushing him into the classroom.
“Bakugo! So glad you’re early! We were starting to think we’d have to wait until the end of class to really show you!”
Katsuki stared at him and scowled.
“The fuck did you want me here for? You extras can’t go 5 minutes without me?”
“No, dude! We have a surprise for you! Cheer up!”
“A surprise?”
He was pushed further into the classroom, his eyes still on the other teen.
“You have to see what we’ve done with the Null’s desk. You’ll be so proud!”
Katsuki’s stomach churned as he walked forward to Deku’s former desk. He pushed through people taking pictures, past people with permanent markers in their hands, past people laughing. Tsubasa continued.
“We thought, since it was confirmed that Null was who killed himself like a fucking loser, we would do something with his old place,” he stepped aside to show Deku’s desk, “What’cha think?”
Katsuki’s heart dropped to his feet at the sight. Before him, where once there were only simple comments or the occasional insult was a mockery of a shrine. He tried to take it by pieces. In black permanent marker was just about every insult, slur, joke, etc. that you could think of, only contrasted by the bright, unmistakable red of spider lilies scattered around the whole piece of furniture. The chair was not in a better state, marker and flowers and blades —how did they even get those in? --- and rope and everything and something Katsuki himself would never be able to think of. And the biggest kick of all, the largest, most prominent fixture on the thing. A picture frame and a candle. A white candle in front of a picture of Deku, eyes crossed out and noose doodled around his neck, red marker around his face and the word QUIRKLESS on top of it all.
He stares at the desk, eyes burning holes into the wooden surface. The world goes around him. He’s numb. Tactless. Artificial. A big nothing. He shuts down.
Kariage stands to his left, slinging an arm across his shoulders and laughing loudly. He’s saying something but Katsuki doesn’t know what he’s saying. He sees the boy’s mouth moving but he can’t tell what the words are. Someone knocks into him. He lashes out. People stare.
“...kugo? Bakugo? Are you in there?” someone asks. “Dude, I think he’s gone for real real.”
Katsuki stares at the person talking and blinks his eyes back into the current reality. They’re asking him something. What are they asking him?
“Speak louder, shitface,” he says brashly. Tsubasa stares at him for a second.
“We asked you what you think, Bakugo. Do you like it?”
No. I hate it. I want it gone. Why is it there in the first place?
“‘S okay.”
“Damn. Not even a smile. We’ll just have to do better tomorrow, right?”
His salvation comes in the form of the overhead morning bell, snapping him out of his thoughts and grounding him in space and time. He goes to his seat unusually dutifully and sits down. The teacher begins talking at the front of the room spouting some regular announcement bullshit. Katsuki almost doesn’t pay attention at all. He can’t, he’s too distracted looking at Deku’s shrine. A word catches his attention.
“...for you hero school applicants, your application needs to be submitted by this Friday, so we can get the process going as soon as possible. Katsuki, you are now the only applicant of U.A. so you have until next Monday to get everything in.”
U.A.
Katsuki hadn’t even thought about that in a moment. He had been far too caught up on this stupid Deku nonsense. He needed to refocus on his real goal. Being the Number 1 hero. He looked down at his notebook and promptly decided to completely stop paying attention to the class and instead focusing on designing and working on his U.A. application. He would finish it really quickly. Or well, he would if his eyes could just stop looking at Deku’s old desk!
He looks down and focuses on the paper. What can he remember from the application? Costume design? Support items? Yeah, that sounds right. He starts sketching, the figures on his paper coming to life as his pencil glides along the paper.
He quiets the whispers. The images of Deku’s doodles. The sound of his rambling. The gossip that tells him he’s not deserving of being a hero:
…
The day passes slowly, endlessly, unbearably. He drifts through the school day, glancing at Deku’s desk every now and then. Time feels like thick honey; he tries to swim through it with minimal success. He notices how the people around him act. Laughing. Pointing. Some more writing on the desk. Lunch. He yells at some people. He eats alone, avoiding everyone. He doesn’t like how he’s feeling.
The day comes to an end after an eternity and Katsuki could not be more glad. He sits quietly in his seat for the last minutes of class, still focused on his current hero application and doing his best to avoid Deku’s desk.
He is brought back to reality by the sound of the bell that signals the end of the day. He observes the way that the sunset falls through the window, yet the only thing he’s seeing are emerald eyes, falling almost in stop motion past the window and to the ground. He resists the urge to go towards the window, if only to make sure no one else has chosen to be pulled by the seductive hands of death. Katsuki stays in his seat, watching the window and feeling the sun warming his face. He watches and watches until most of the rest of the class is long gone, ready to go back to their houses, or go with their friends to the arcade, or mess around like teenagers.
But he doesn’t join them. He stays seated, unmoving, and with his mind fully blank.
He finally stands up, recognizing the need to get moving and to stop pondering the unreal. He stands and starts putting his things back in his bag. Most people have left. He hears the occasional comment of someone else leaving. A laugh.
Kariage’s voice cuts through the air as Katsuki’s name is called over. He grumbles back to him, but makes no move to turn to look at him in the slightest.
“The fuck do you want?”
“We’re going to Tsubasa’s secret spot after school,” he points out, “we’re waiting for you!”
Katsuki’s eyes are suddenly drawn towards Deku’s desk, the black permanent marker assaulting his vision and limiting his thoughts. He sees the now half-dead flowers. Sees that some people have retrieved their offensive belongings. Sees the newly-added chewed up gum on the desk.
He looks straight into the eyes of Izuku Midoriya, eyes he will never in his life see again.
“What makes you fuckers think I’d want to go with you?”
He looks at the writing everywhere on the desk. It will probably be hard to clean up.
“Come on, Bakugo! You always go with us! One of the guys got some… things from his dad’s locked cabinet. It’ll be fun!”
Katsuki considers it. His eyes are still locked on the desk.
It’s messy, it’s destroyed, it’s dirty, it’s offensive. It’s vile and disgusting, just like himself last night. A thought crosses his mind. Does Deku deserve this? Does he deserve his memory being tainted not only by the insults and taunts and teasing of himself and his classmates, but also by this mockery of a shrine, this heretical representation of his memory, this antichrist of a memorial? Where Deku was a sinner, Katsuki was the devil, looking to torture him to the ends of hell and back. Where Deku was an angel, Katsuki was the god ready to make him fall. He looks at Deku’s desk and considers it, he considers staying, considers preserving the little dignity and impression he once had of his childhood friend by protecting his memory and sacred being.
He looks and looks and looks. Does Deku deserve this?
Should Katsuki mend this? Is it his fault?
Is this the rightful way to keep things?
“Yeah, just give me a second to get my things.”
Yes, he settles on. He had it coming all along.