Chapter Text
“Pray for a quirk in your next life,”
I’ve done that plenty of times idiot. Izuku drawls in his mind, even as he trembles outwardly.
“Then take a swan dive of the roof of a building!”
There’s resounding laughter and Katsuki and his lackeys snicker at how Izuku’s eyes widen in shock, fresh tears streaming down his bruised, battered face. They watch on in sick amusement as he weeps, his body curling up into itself on instinct.
Fuck, I’m crying again. He thinks, his fragile tear ducts really need to get under control.
“Oi Bakugo, wanna head to the arcade?” Lackey no.1 asks, as if there isn’t a boy breaking down in front of them.
Are you fucking joking? Izuku seethe’s in his mind.
Through blurry eyes, Izuku sees Katsuki give him a once over of disgust.
“Whatever,” Katsuki grunts, yelling, because all he does is yell all the time. “I’m not paying though!” He adds, walking out of the classroom, the two flunkeys strolling behind him.
“Sure, sure.” Lackey no.2 responds with ease, used to Katsuki’s bullshit.
Oh, what Izuku would give to be any of those privileged bastards.
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Tears fall without end, and despite the his brain’s sarcasm, Izuku is falling apart. His ex-best friend had just told him to kill himself and while he really should be used to this, he’s not.
Multiple emotions rotate through his mind; anger, sorrow, pity, dread, tiredness, loneliness, betrayal. And yet he somehow felt devoid of anything. He felt the pain and yet didn’t at the same time. Is that weird? Oh well, just another reason why Izuku should be gone. Fucking weirdo.
‘Pray for a quirk in your next life’ His brain echoes against his will.
‘Then take a swan dive of the roof of a building!’
‘He’s right.’ A voice in the back of his mind say,‘You’re pathetic, a waste of space and resources. You should listen to him.’
‘After all who’ll miss a stupid Deku like you?’
‘Jump.’
He knows he should push the suicidal thoughts away, but he honestly couldn’t care less. After all, it’s not like he doesn’t agree with them. Suicidal or not, they are his thoughts. His opinion—not to mention that they’re correct.
Maybe it’s time they become his actions.
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By the time Izuku is even conscience of the world around him his tears are dry.
He calmly closes his eyes, and even though they sting, Izuku likes it-it burns in a good way…wait, what? Is Izuku a masochist? No. He’s never enjoyed being hurt, by accident or by others. But this pain is gratifying, in a way he simply can’t explain. It’s freeing, maybe because it’s happening at his free will?
Whatever, he has more important things to do then wonder why he likes his eyes burning.
Opening his eyes, he begins to stand up, much to the protests of his beat up body. He carefully picks up his sunshine yellow bag-a fitting colour for his personality at first glance, though really it’s quite the opposite- and heads out the door of the classroom, cradling the backpack as if it were his only hope.
Izuku reaches the outside, and is immediately hit with the cool air and sun of spring. The quick change of temperatures settles the boy. Life wasn’t so good but nature sure as hell made up for it, in times of despair the world around him always managed to comfort him better then anyone else could. Today was no exception, and Izuku felt his tense shoulders relax as the wind breezes past.
He walks across the side of the school-intending to take the long way home- when a certain book in the water catches his eye. He looks into the Koi pond and, sure enough, being slowly eaten by hungry fish, is his notebook-well 13th notebook but who cares about specifics. Katsuki burnt it and through it out the window shortly before telling Izuku to go kill himself. Maybe Izuku shouldn’t be able to say the second part of that sentence so easily but he probably hasn’t fully processed the last events so it’s probably fine.
Sighing, he fishes (haha fishes) the notebook out from the grasp of multiple greedy fish, mumbling about how it’s not food. Izuku inspects the damage; it’s very wet and slightly bitten at the ends. The cover is charred and burnt, curtesy of ‘Kacchan’. The inside of the pages are damp, though the back was practically soaked, and most were smudged, however if you concentrated hard enough you could make out writing. Luckily, no.13 was quite new and so only a couple pages were filled out and Izuku had no doubt he could copy them down in a new, different notebook with even glancing back.
Even so, he still grabbed the tattered book just in case and held it-he didn’t want to contaminate his school stuff with water.
Continuing his slow walk home Izuku thought to himself, Could this day get any worse?. It seemed life just loved to fuck with him as at that moment, Izuku found himself under a secluded tunnel, no one in sight nor near. Then, all of a sudden, there was a low rumbling sound, Izuku turned slowly and saw the sewer grate shaking.
Dark green goo seeped through the grate until, to Izuku’s horror, something akin to a slime monster took shape. It’s eyes seemingly popped out of nowhere, staring directly at Izuku, it’s red irises twinkled menacingly once it noticed his presence.
Slowly, it monologued, saying something about ‘the perfect skinsuit’. And while Izuku should’ve been listening, analysing, or even running away, he was frozen to the spot, unable to move as continuous waves of a mix of shock and fear passed through him. He was only broken out of his stupor once the slimy villain charged towards him.
Now really, Izuku should’ve been able to dodge, but like I said he was stuck to the spot and, in true main character fashion, regained his senses just too late.
Before he realised it the villain was already on him. Seeping through his pores, shoving itself down his throat and down Izuku’s nose.
Through the torture, Izuku’s stupid fucking brain couldn’t help but think Calm down Drake, don’t ‘cha know it’s kinda weird shoving yourself down a fourteen year olds throat?
Now, Izuku may be semi-suicidal, but he sure as hell wasn’t suicidal enough to willingly die at the hands of a villain. In fact, he actually felt himself wanting to live at that idea. Wow, the influence of heroes is crazy.
Izuku’s breathing was cut off as soon as the thick goo slipped into his nose canals.
Okay, being mobbed by a mound of sludge fucking sucks.
He couldn’t mask the pain with comedy anymore, he really needed to fight back. Frantically, Izuku began swinging his legs, attempting to hit the sludge. Granted, it was sludge and simply repelled Izuku’s useless attack.
If only he wasn’t so busy before making witty remarks and being shocked, he could’ve done some actual damage instead of the pathetic kicks he’s producing now.
It was futile and Izuku knew it. Yet he still squirmed and fought. Izuku Midoriya would not go down without a fight (well… not this time atleast).
The sludge villain seemed proper pissed now, and aggressively tried to take over Izuku’s body. His vision blurred as white dots took over and danced around. His breathing was cut off a long time ago, and Izuku knew he was suffocating.
His frantic legs slowly came to a stop as Izuku felt himself slip into death, faintly, he heard a large blast blow the sludge away, freeing Izuku. It sounded suspiciously like All Might’s Detroit Smash, but it was too late.
If anything the blast only solidified Izuku’s death, sending him flying like a rag doll. He was certainly a goner, skin pale yet slightly blue, and eyesight knocked out as the white fuzzies spread.
Someone’s late. He finally thought as he slammed into the curved wall of the tunnel, which, strangely, didn’t hurt—in fact nothing hurt..
And then there was black.