𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦

𝐈 𝐍 𝐓 𝐑 𝐎 𝐃 𝐔 𝐂 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ; 導入

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Procrastination check. That aside, it’s time I write some intense angst again. I have little to say about this one other than that I am sorry if I hurt you, but please know I hurt me too. I’d blame IC and Explogency for me writing this, but I probably would have done it anyway. </3

Cover art cred: ○

𝐓 𝐀 𝐆 𝐒 ; タグ

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#MyHerotober Day 20, “Alone”

𝐖 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃  𝐂 𝐎 𝐔 𝐍 𝐓 ; 単語数

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2,175

𝐓 𝐈 𝐌 𝐄  𝐓 𝐀 𝐊 𝐄 𝐍 ; 時間

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5 hours

𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐓  𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 ; 文字

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Bakugou Katsuki and others

𝐖 𝐀 𝐑 𝐍 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 𝐒 ; 警報

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Heavy angst

Past character death

foul language

𝐒 𝐘 𝐍 𝐎 𝐏 𝐒 𝐈 𝐒 ; 梗概

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Whoever said ‘you’ll never be alone’ didn’t for this twist of fate.

✎ 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

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For some people, there's no limit to what should be said. No secrets important enough to keep out of their mouths, no information too closely protected to be safe from spreading through group after group like a disease, and no fact too uncomfortable to be shared at least a few times before it grows too old to be of entertainment anymore. Simply put; people like to talk. In fact, it seems like many are practically addicted to conversation itself, to being social with one another with no regard to anything outside their own little worlds where everything seems to be sunshine and rainbows to the remainder of humanity as they look in on such scenes as this one.

The common room is full, laden with the scents of cheap, temporary hair color, cream makeup, perfumes, plastic and candy. Every member of class 1.A. practically vibrates with energy, enthusiasm for the night ahead affecting each one of then straight down to their bones. Witch costumes, ghosts, zombies, devils and more unoriginal outfits dot the room, each one as flashy as the last. There is, however… one person without a costume.

"Kacchan! You… didn't get a costume? Unless that's your costume?" The infamously grating, squeaky voice of the most well recognized resident green-haired hero in training is like a needle in Katsuki's eardrum. Within a second, vibrant scarlet eyes are darting across the room with enough venom within them to kill a herd of elephants with merely a drop.

"Shut up. You know what today is." With all of their usual bite and then some, Bakugou's words are loud enough to catch the attention of a few more of the room, more eyes drawing towards his neatly buttoned, long sleeved white shirt and black slacks adjusted perfectly, without a single wrinkle in sight. A far cry from his usual appearance… and every single one of them should know why.

"Hey, bro… I know today's not a great day for you, but.. it's been two years, you should-" Kirishima barely gets the majority of his sentence out before Katsuki is whipping around towards his voice, dark glare set on his best friend even as the redhead in question freezes with a hand extended as though he meant to place it on the blonde's shoulder.

"I should what,, huh? What the hell do you expect me to do?! Sit around with you idiots talking about stupid shit that doesn't matter anymore? Pretend I /forgot/?! You all want want talk so much, why don't you talk about how none of you would be here if it weren't for /him/?!"

With every word, that rough, furious voice rises louder and louder, deeper and more powerful now than two years ago when they were all just clueless first years trying to be heroes. Just a bunch of kids without a clue, playing at being something bigger than they were… than they ever could be.

“Bakugou, we all mourned for him… You know he wouldn’t want-”

“How would YOU know what he would have wanted, four eyes?! Get off your damn high horse and stop acting like you have a clue, none of you gave a shit until it was too late to count. Now it doesn’t even matter if you cared or not, so shut your mouth and stop pretending to be the hero that none of us will ever be! Because guess what?! If any of us were /really/ heroes, we would have GONE DOWN WITH HIM!”

As the last note of such a deafening shout rings through the room like the final toll of a church bell, Katsuki yanks his first foot forward, followed by the second, and then again, repeating the process. The sole sound lies within each sharp stomp, punctuated with finality with the moment he rips the front door open, steps through, and slams it hard enough to hear a crack somewhere in the frame. Not that something so simple as a doorframe matters to him tonight of all nights…

With a huff of residual anger now behind him, Katsuki doesn’t falter in his steps as he moves down the sidewalk, away from the forms as fast as his feet will carry him without breaking into an all out run too soon. After all… the light of day is still cast over the horizon with a warm, yellow-orange glow nothing at all like the mood that he left in the common room of the shared third year dorms.

It serves them all right, though. If they want to pretend that nothing happened when they were first years, he’ll make damn sure they can’t fulfil that desire. He can’t.. Won’t let them. It’s not fair.. For him to be forgotten.

Even now, even as he makes his way onto the city sidewalk and down a nearly abandoned alleyway, he can the horrors of this night two years ago. The heavy, pungent scent of smoke. The painful stinging of sparks and hot ashes landing on his skin, in his hair, on his hero suit. The screams.. The crumbling, cracking and creaking… and most of all, he can the rumbling, thunderous crash that ended everything he learned to care for.

Tightness wraps around his throat like a vice, burning in his nose and eyes almost replicating that of the memory that proves so strong even after two years have ed since that dreaded Halloween. Every second es just a little bit too fast.. Like he's moving in slow motion again, just like he did this day in the past. Too slow to do anything but watch the world around him burn.

As his steps grow slower, the sun sets ever so quickly over the horizon, dipping beneath the skyline and taking its warmth along with it.

".. This is stupid."

The words come out in a soft mumble, scowl weakened and drained of the vigor it held half an hour prior. The mind often shies away from places of intense trauma, and it seems that.. This is no exception to that. It almost feels like his feet are sticking to the ground with each step, as though placing a foot in a sticky mouse trap but then trying to pull it out again. Except, every inch of this ground is a trap ready to hold him in place at the slightest hesitation.

And so… he can't hesitate. Not even for a moment. Not even as the dim light of streetlamps is his only guide, with most everyone in the city out at parties or bringing their friends and families to residential areas where candy is ed out for all who utter three simple words. The streets are quiet and dark… ominous to some, but not so to him. There could have been a thousand people within his field of view, and it would have felt almost the same. It would have felt… just as lonely as it has been for these years.

It feels as though there is a boulder settled in his gut as the building he so dreads seeing comes into view. Rebuilt a year ago, but still home to nothing but empty walls and a small tree with a plaque just beside the sturdy concrete steps. The plaque.. He doesn't want to read. Not now. It isn't what he's here for anyway.

With one slow, long exhale, Katsuki finally releases every ounce of malice from his body. From his expression, from his heart, from the very marrow of his bones. Because… a hero doesn't deserve to have anger seeping into the place his spirit must rest.

"Hey.. Icyhot."

The first two words almost feel choking, accompanied by the sudden tightening of that invisible vice around his throat as his eyes burn hotter.

"It's been a while I guess… I'm.. Sorry for that. I know you don't like being alone as much as you let on."

Instead of growing easier, each word only hurts more, stabbing a fiery hot knife straight into the center of his chest and twisting with a sharp jerk. If he could pry his own heart out.. He'd do it right now, just to stop feeling the pain he's brought upon himself. If this was about him, though.. He never would have come.

"Your mom is living with Fuyumi and Natsuo now, they're all safe. Hell, my old hag's even friends with all of them now." With a hint of almost forced annoyance, Katsuki takes another slow breath, finding his voice falling unsteady as he decides what to say next. "But they all miss you… and I miss you too…"

It's not enough. To say 'I miss you' doesn't begin to cover the feeling of.. Utter emptiness of every second Shoto has been gone. It hurts.. It burns.. It's /wrong/ to just say a simple 'I miss you' to someone that means everything to him, whether he can stand beside him or not.

With every second that es, he can feel that burning in those eyes transform into salty dampness, head throbbing with the pressure of holding back a throat-shredding sob that finally rips through.

"I miss you so much that I can't sleep without one of your stupid sweaters to hold! That I eat that stupid zaru soba every single day at lunch just because I know you loved it so much! I miss you so much that I can't see a picture of you without turning into this- this PATHETIC piece of SHIT that couldn't save you the one time you needed it!"

Every word is like a bullet through his body. His brain, his lungs, his heart, his stomach, leaving him riddled with holes only filled by the hot tears pouring down his cheeks so fast they dribble down his chin in an unsteady stream, staining his carefully buttoned white shirt with moisture.

"You always saved everyone else, even me! Even when I did stupid things you told me not to, you reached out and made sure I was okay no matter what! Damnit, why couldn't you have just been selfish for once?!"

Fury blends with the pain like food coloring in water, changing the appearance but not the true nature of the liquid it's placed in. Even with anger in his tone.. It's impossible to mask the sadness that crushes Katsuki like the very building that fell atop the man he loves. It's blinding.. Deafening. So disorienting that he could even believe that he feels arms around his shoulders now.. But it isn't real.

"I hate it, I hate this, I hate all of it! It's not fair that all your life was worth is a stupid fucking tree, it's not fair that no one wants to you anymore, it's not fair that you didn't get to ride a roller coaster or visit a candy shop, it's not fair that your old man treated you like shit and then got to cry with the rest of us like he deserved you any more than we did! It's not fair that-"

"Katsuki."

All at once, the words collapse in his throat, eyes squeezed shut against the force of his own words screamed out into the empty darkness of night. It's his imagination… he misses that voice so much that it's as clear in his head as the last time he heard it… just like the arms of strangely mismatched temperatures around his shoulders are so.. So familiar.

"Katsuki, it's okay."

Silence follows those words for a few unsteady heartbeats, confusion rising in rapid jumps until Bakugou's eyes finally pull open… only to meet a pair of mismatched irises as if for the first time all over again.

"I missed you too…"

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