ch. II: am I the villain of this story...?

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-TW: this chapter goes into detail about suicide-

Bakugou’s POV:

       I was talking and laughing with my friends. I haven't seen the damn nerd in any of our classes, who am I kidding, he’s probably just sick. I was laughing at some dumb joke when I hear a crack. I turn around to see what it was. It was a body. Its limbs were twisted and broken. I see a bush of green hair, covered in blood…. That hair…. No… it cant be...

       Its… Its Deku. His face held a small smile, it seemed more genuine than the ones he usually flashed at people. There was blood everywhere. I heard people screaming it sounded so far away, my ears were slightly ringing. I was standing there, stunned, staring at Deku's lifeless body. Tears started to well up in my eyes. I went to brush them away but I couldn't. I couldn't move. Why can't I move? I stood there with tears streaming down my face. 

Why can't I move?

I heard sirens, an ambulance. It all sounded so distant.

       They found Deku’s notes. One addressed to aunty Inko, and one to me. I've read it, it's all my fault. 

       We had his funeral. His casket was closed, I don't know how I know, but he was smiling. 

       Did I really make him hate himself so much that he felt his only escape was death? That his only chance at peace was ending his own life? That he was happy to die? I just wanted to protect him. If he tried to become a hero, he would die in battle. Without a quirk, what is he going to do against villains? I was just trying to protect him… and I became the reason for his death. I’m… I’m a monster. I was at fault for all of the awful things that happened to him.

        All of the terrible things I have said to him came rushing through my mind. It was a jumbled mess. Like a maze, I could escape no matter the number of right turns I made. They’re like tangled cords hidden behind your desk. No matter how long you spend trying to untangle them, they keep getting more tangled and confusing. 

Aunty Inko was crying. She just lost her own son, and it's all my fault. 

       I couldn't bring myself to stay through to the end of the funeral, so I left. Just like he did… Sometimes being a hero to others comes with the consequence of being seen as a villain to those you hold closest, those you care for the deepest. I felt like the only way to protect him from an inevitable death was to scare him away, away from his dream that he’d been chasing since he knew what a hero was. I wish I could apologize. He's gone, and I didn't get the chance to apologize. He died seeing me as a villain. I was only trying to protect him. 

       I fell into the depths of which are my thoughts. 

“Sometimes, being a hero is not being recognized as a hero at all”

       There are so many thoughts in my head going 100 miles per hour. Parts of his letter replaying in my head.

‘Why does he see me as a hero? I was nothing but horrible to him, probably worse than any villain would ever be.’

One thought was louder than others. 

‘Am I the villain in this story…?’

       It was much louder than the others, it echoed in my head, replaying. Images of how we used to be before I got my quirk, before he was diagnosed as quirkless, flashed in my mind. They slowly started shifting to me… to me abusing him, beating him… solely for being quirkless.

‘I-I am the villain… he would still be alive if it weren't for me..’

~word count- 634~

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