The Lost Continent

Chapter 35

You will be tested

But hold not the hand of your past

Your love will take you

To your grave, or to your cross.

Bakugou feels like he's dreaming. Yet, it's not a dream. He knows this. It's too tangible. To real. Yet so unreal, his mind struggles towards the explanation of a nighttime fantasy, playing before his eyes- though the thing before him is nothing.

He walks, knowing that he has to move forward, but every step is filled with a crazy fear, and a sense of perseverance. Bakugou Katsuki did not back down. He did not let fear crumple his heart. He has been through too much, too fast, to turn around.

The darkness was overwhelming, and the silence, too. It wrapped around him like seaweed underwater, tugging at his body, making him want to jump and jerk away. He wonders, idly through the fog of his thoughts, if the others were faring okay? Mina probably went next, then Kiri, then Shouji before Sero, and...

A voice. Bakugou puts a hand to his heart - it had come from within, yet was all around him.

"Kacchan."

Bakugou shakes his head. The island would test him. He knew that. And he was prepared to believe it would test him in ways beyond his understanding. The world was full of things he did not understand, but he knew that fearing them would get him nowhere.

And yet,

"Kacchan? You came! You came afterall!"

Bakugou moves forward. It was clear- move forward. Don't be tempted. Two whole sections devoted to unwavering. It was simple.

"It's been so lonely, here. I thought you would come sooner."

Bakugou stays silent, but a tickle near his nose makes him sniff and rub his hand across his face. Tears - ah. They often come when you don't want them to.

"Can you see me yet?"

Bakugou's eyes dart around, and then, suddenly, he can. He can see. It freezes him - there's no ghastliness. No ghostliness. Nothing but flesh. He's there.

Bakugou is frozen, and Deku is moving. Not lifeless, not dirty and bloodied, but the same as he always was. As old as he was.

"I can see you." when Bakugou speaks his voice is rasped. His heart beats, his body cold.

"I'm glad!" Deku smiles. That aggravating ever-present smile. Determined. "I forgive you, by the way."

"Hm?" is all Bakugou can manage.

"Not for the stuff when we were kids- well, not that I don't forgive you, more like we've gone past that by now. Not that. The last thing, though. That really took my breath away." Deku laughs.

"What's that?" Bakugou says, knowing what's coming, but pushing it away.

"It's your fault, sure." Deku says. "First Might died... maybe if you had been there you could've helped him more. Or if you hadn't needing saving all the time. If you had been better."

Bakugou nods, tears going free. Just like Deku to rip out his tender thoughts, ones he didn't know how to express.

Deku reaches out a hand to him. It's scarred in all the right places.

"You're a natural, sure, but not quite good enough." Deku grins. "I was better, in the end. But you lost me, too. Hope you're better than that, now. Kind of pathetic."

Bakugou nods, then he hears another voice. Not so much a voice, as a flash of reason that goes through his heart. That... didn't sound like Deku. It sounded like himself . "Are you dead?"

"I'm right here." Deku says, tilting his head. "I've been waiting for you."

Bakugou shakes his head, confused. Disoriented. Deku is here, in the flesh, smiling. Undead.

"We should go together." he says, holding out a hand. "Which way do you want to go?"

Bakugou takes his hand. It's real. It's cold. He can't understand. He almost doesn't want to. He wants to go- go to wherever. He wants to let his love, his affection, everything he had in this unexpected friendship with Midoriya, take its course. Wants to let him take him away, to

your grave, or your cross

His thoughts are interrupted by the incessantly memorized verse.

He pulls his hand away, but Deku grabs his arm tight. A fear, physical streaks through his arm and into his heart. What was this? Grave or cross? What was his cross?

"What is my cross?" he says aloud.

"You go." Deku says, still smiling. He sounds less and less like Deku. This wasn't Deku. DEku would not say those things- he was weak. In a strong way, if that makes sense. But weak. He just went with it. He wouldn't say those things-

"You can come with me, or you can go."

"Go." Bakugou says, wrestling against the cold deadness piercing through his chest. Deku's face is draining color. All the pinkness is spreading down his throat and beneath his white shirt, and suddenly it's blooming out in red.

"You have chosen to cross. It will not be easy." Deku says. But it doesn't come from Deku's mouth. Because it isn't Deku, and it came from within Bakugou. A force that fights against the coldness around his heart.

Bakugou wrenches himself free, and there's nothing.

Nothing. Darkness, if that's something. But there's no Deku. The coldness in his chest and arm start to tingle away.

"My cross?" Bakugou murmurs. He puzzles it over as he walks blindly forward, unmindful of the lack of sense of space around him - almost as though he's unable to be aware of it. He thinks and thinks - his mind goes to a missionary he once met- someone who tried to "save his soul." Bakugou figured he was beyond that, but heard the man out.

Something you must bear. You must carry your cross. Even if it isn't your fault, sometimes there are things you must simply carry with you, they become part of you, and in recognizing those things, you become a better person.

Bakugou frowns. Something like that, though, could get heavier and heavier. Some things, you have to carry, and then when you're finished, you have to let go. Understand, them, yes, and then overcome. You have to move on, get to the other side, cross the bridge - cross.

He stops. He's between it now. His grave, or his cross. He can go to his death. He can go to his cross- the things he carries.

"I'm at my cross?" he offers. Nothing. He stomps his foot. "I'm fucking ready to go."

And then, there's light.