I Never Wanted This! | BNHA AU

Chapter 3

The next morning was similar to the last. Woke up. Showered. No parents. The only change in his morning routine was the need to wrap his knuckles with bandaging after painfully disinfecting them with isopropyl alcohol. Katsuki didn't bother to grab something to eat—he didn't have much of an appetite to begin with—this morning, instead leaving the house immediately after getting dressed to head to school. Except, he wasn't so quick to go to school. He turned upon reaching the end of his neighborhood street, making his way into the heart of the city. He walked past people in a hurry, glancing at the tall buildings that stood with pride and efficiency. Where was the one that held Izuku for the final time? That was what he was looking for.

Katsuki walked for a good thirty minutes before he reached the building he was looking for. There it was. Police tape contained the area, still. He'd think they'd get rid of it by now. What were they trying to contain? From what he saw through the cracks in between passing people, there was nothing on the floor that was guarded by the flimsy black and yellow tape. No indication that Izuku died there. A part of Katsuki expected to see a stain, perhaps Izuku's burnt up notebook. Neither of which were in sight. Props to the city cleaning crew.

Bakugou looked away from the pavement and stared at the building instead. A tall business building. People swarmed around it. Katsuki approached it and paused when he was a respectable distance from the scene—maybe five feet away from the police tape. He stared wearily at the flat roof of the building, glowing underneath the morning sun. Picturing Izuku up there made his heart pang with guilt. He knew Inko worked there, at this company's building. He figured that's how Izuku was able to get in.

He hoped Inko wasn't working that day. But he knew she had to have been. They wouldn't have let Izuku in otherwise.

The blonde must have stayed there for twenty minutes, standing there, staring. People walked past him like he was irrelevant, which to them he was. Everyone and everything around him was moving on, living their lives even after Izuku stopped living his near the building they so carelessly walked past. Another ten minutes flew by before he got himself to move, sauntering back to the direction of the school. He missed his first period by the time he arrived, stepping into his second during the middle of a lecture. The teacher scolded him as Katsuki quietly sat at his desk to which he muttered a brief apology. He ignored everything else; the stares from the other students boring into him, the lecture, classwork, whispers. Once the period ended, he stood and walked out.

In the hallway, people were silent as they stared at him. This made him angry, self-conscious. Did everyone know? Whispers came from one student. "Monster" came from another. "Murderer." Killer." "Villain."

Villain.

All his life, he was called a villain for his explosive behavior and now he had something that proved he was no better than a villain. A villain.

Katsuki let his eyes fall to the ground, watching his feet move him to the next class. Everything was the same as the second period; the staring, the whispers, the ignored lectures. So was the fourth. It wasn't until fifth did he decide to skip the rest of the day.

The hallways were empty as he strolled through them with everyone being in their fifth-period class. Katsuki padded alongside the lockers, his hand gripping his backpack strap that was slung over one shoulder. He was quiet and dull, staring at the exit a few hallways ahead of him. He was close to freedom.

But hallway there, without warning, he was slammed right into the lockers. His eyes closed shut in the middle of impact, only hearing the loud clash of the metal lockers against his weight. He paused, opening his eyes as he processed what had happened. Katsuki then whipped his head to face the person who pushed him, his eyes narrowed with anger. Only it was more than one person who seemed to have shoved him.

He was standing face-to-face with his "friends." They laughed at the glare Katsuki gave them, the blonde's lips immediately curling into a snarl. Their laughter only infuriated him more, explosions popping from the palm of his hands as a threat. It didn't stop them, they continued to crack up.

"What the hell are you laughing at!" Katsuki snapped, it sounded like a demand rather than a question.

"You," One of them said daringly through a snort.

"Whatcha gonna do about it? Murder us too?" The other said, cupping  his hands like Katsuki did when he used his quirk, mockingly.

Katsuki flinched at his words, the once vexed explosions that ignited in his hands fading away into smoke. He could feel it; the sharp blade that tore and slashed through his heart and chest multiple times with regret and guilt. One of them smiled, knowing he had finally got the best of the one and only, the all-powerful in their crappy middle school: Katsuki Bakugou. He shoved the blonde back against the lockers. Katsuki only stared at him, his eyes wide as he was still shaken by what had been said before.

"That's right, defy us and we'll snitch. Because we all know why that fucking loser jumped off that building. You're the reason, you murderer." The guy jabbed his finger against Katsuki's chest accusingly, glaring at him through his malicious grin.

There was a pause, a brief moment of silence between the boys. It was the quiet before the storm that only lasted a moment, a few heartbeats.

In a swift movement, Bakugou's fist crashed into his former follower's jaw. The guy fell from the impact, his hand on his chin and his eyes wide with shock. Katsuki ran off, pushing past open the door and exiting the school. He left the school premises, running faster and faster with each step he took, wanting to escape the nightmare he seemed to be trapped in. His legs ached, his lungs burned, both of which were begging him to stop and breathe. He didn't. He couldn't. He kept running. He could feel fresh tears sting his eyes, flying from his face and into the wind as he ran. He growled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, never breaking his strides.

Finally, he reached the park when he began to slow down. His neighborhood park. The one he would wander about with Deku when they were smaller. He nearly fell to his knees, using a tree as support as he gasped for air. His lungs felt cold from the lack of oxygen and his legs felt overused and weak. He panted as he looked up to take in his surroundings. The park was empty, only a few squirrels and birds there to greet him with their songs and squeaks. He slowly got to his feet and staggered to the bench nearby. He sat down, defeated. His vision blurred as new tears formed, threatening to fall from his eyes if he were to so much as blink. He looked around, instead. The park looked lively. The grass was a healthy shade of green and the tree branches swayed with the wind, as if swaying to the wind's whistles. He could hear Izuku's voice here. His giggle-ish laugh. His high-pitched "Kacchan!" Their fan-talk of All Might. His voice, his smile, his laugh; it picked at Katsuki from the inside out. Longing lingered into his chest, mixed with the feelings of anger, sadness, and shame. He scoffed, glaring down at his hands that laid stiffly on his lap. Tears fell from his cheeks and landed on the exposed skin of his wrists.

"I'm sorry, Deku." He whispered, his hands forming into fists. He looked up at the bright sky.

"I'm sorry, you hear me!" Katsuki yelled, closing his eyes shut tightly as more tears streamed down his face. He let the grief engulf him, his teeth gritting as it did. How felt powerless, he felt infuriated, he felt tired.

He felt broken; his glass of confidence long since shattered into nothing but a million pieces of insecurity, rage, and rue all reflecting back to him.

The blonde boy continued to whisper apologies, silently sobbing with each apology that slipped past his mouth. Were they enough? Could Deku hear them? No. Nothing would be enough. And Deku couldn't hear anything anymore. But he apologized anyway, he apologized until he ran out of tears to shed. He stayed on that bench for the rest of the day. He was solemn. He was indifferent. He was regretful. He was grieving.

————