𝔸 𝔾𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤 𝕆𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖 💥𝔹𝕒𝕜𝕦𝔻𝕖𝕜𝕦💥

Endless struggles

Trigger Warning: Some of the content may be too graphic for some readers (Gore).

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

Chapter 2

Katsuki's head throbbed like it had taken a hit from All Might himself as he slowly clawed his way back from unconsciousness. A piercing headache greeted him in the pitch-black darkness, making his already miserable existence even more of a pain in the ass. As he tried to sit up, debris cascaded off him, and a muttered curse slipped from his lips when his head smacked against a solid obstacle above.

"Fucking hell," he grumbled, his temples pulsating with pain as he rubbed them aggressively. His hand traced the gritty surface above him, leading to an open space.

Where the hell am I?

Igniting his quirk, small explosions revealed a cramped, claustrophobic crawl space with unforgiving concrete edges. The echoes of dripping water reverberated from an overhead pipe, while lurking rebar seemed ready to skewer him. No sign of his gauntlet—it probably disintegrated during the clusterfuck he'd just survived. Crimson eyes scanned the crevice, finding it strewn with a random assortment of junk. A blanket lay sprawled amidst papers and scattered art supplies.

Shifting his weight, Katsuki triggered a mini avalanche of debris, earning himself a one-way ticket to Coughsville, gritting his teeth at the sensation as it cranked up the agony from his busted ribs. His leg, meanwhile, played hostage under a mound of drywall, an Arts degree mocking him from above. Irritation swelled within him as he questioned the intelligence of the stuck up asshole who'd bother framing a college degree like that.

What moron hangs a damn Art degree?

Determined to get free, he shoved against the wall with his free foot. With a surge of force, his leg popped free, groans resonating from the protesting structure. He scrambled backward, narrowly dodging a floor collapse that would've made his day even worse.

"Tch," he clicked his tongue in irritation. His eyes flicked down, revealing small lacerations beneath shredded black pants, blood clinging cold and wet around his knee. The air felt dry and chilly, typical of early January. Rolling his foot, assessing the damage, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Nothing broken, at least.

Leave it to Deku to bring the whole damn building down. That fucking idiot. Katsuki's irritation bubbled beneath the surface, but then, a realization softened his expression.

Wait... where's Deku?

"Deku?" Katsuki croaked, his voice sounding like gravel due to the thick dust. Extending his palm, he tried to light up the cramped space.

Silence. Only silence.

"Answer, shitty Nerd!" he yelled, his teeth clenched tightly from the strain it put on his ribs—still, nothing.

I swear to God if he's dead, I'm going to bring his ass back and kill him myself.

Switching the light between his palms, he mustered the strength he had left, crawling toward the cramped space's other end.

"Oi! Where the hell are you?!" he shouted, anger radiating from every word.

Why do I care so much? whatever.

Clicking his tongue again in annoyance, he strained to hear any movement around him. As Katsuki continued to crawl through the dimly lit crawl space, his frustration morphed into a subtle undercurrent of unease. The echoes of his own voice seemed to bounce off the concrete walls, amplifying the eerie silence that enveloped him. The idea of Deku being unresponsive, potentially injured.... or worse, gradually gnawed at the edges of his consciousness.