Chapter Text
Katsuki stumbled down the sidewalk. The streetlights glowed yellow on the pavement below his feet. The air was sweet and warm. He couldn't really remember where he was coming from. All of his memories were a blur of sound and color.
Something warm and wet was dripping down his arm, tracing its way down to the tips of his fingers. He rubbed two of them together absentmindedly.
Sticky.
Katsuki tilted his head down and his entire world spun violently around. A laugh bubbled up from his throat as his feet stuttered to the side.
Shit. He needed to focus on walking like a normal person. It was harder when you were drunk.
A droplet fell from the tip of his index finger and Katsuki dragged his unfocused gaze on them.
Redredredredredredred-
His world tilted suddenly and Katsuki felt his body smashing against the hard, unforgiving ground.
Blood. Katsuki was bleeding. Why was he bleeding?
His skull throbbed with every pulse of his heart. Katsuki groaned, reaching up to rub his aching head. The floor. Right. He had fallen.
Katsuki pushed himself up to a sitting position. Each of his limbs felt like they weighed a ton each. They were heavy and stiff. Everything was bright and spinning. He felt kinda sick to his stomach, and if he closed his eyes long enough, Katsuki was positive he'd be puking his guts out. Instead he focused on the weird object now sticking out of his pocket.
A red flower. A carnation.
Katsuki laughed again, plucking the flower from his jacket pocket and finally pushing himself to an unsteady standing position.
His mom loved these flowers. Years ago, she would plant them every spring. Once when he had to grow them for a school project she kept the blooms preserved by pressing them between pages of books. Katsuki used to snatch the books off the shelves when the hag wasn't looking to find the dried flowers between the pages. He'd inhale the scent of the ink and paper, and the lingering odor of the flowers.
That was before. Everything was always before.
Before Katsuki got his quirk. Before Deku didn’t get his. Before his dad left. Before she started drinking.
He was happier then.
Things were hard after Masaru left. Mitsuki never really struggled for money, but balancing a successful modeling career and a toddler wasn’t a walk in the park by any means. Especially a kid like Katsuki.
Katsuki didn’t blame her when she started drinking more. He didn’t blame her when she slowly stopped cooking meals for them. He didn’t blame her when she stopped coming home every night.
He never blamed her.
He wasn’t an easy kid. Katsuki knew that. He really did try(not that his mom would ever agree).
Mitsuki's punishments were harsh, but necessary. Nobody understood that. Katsuki needed her to help him. He needed the hag to keep him in line. Katsuki was well aware that he was a bad person. She was just helping.
After Kamino (after Katsuki ended All Might), the truth settled underneath his skin uncomfortably and lingered there. Katsuki couldn’t deny it any longer.
He was a villain.
With trembling fingers, Katsuki plucked a petal from the red carnation.
Be a villain.
He snorted. Katsuki was halfway there. He idly plucked another. The soft red petal fluttered down to the dirty pavement. Red contrasted sharply against the black pavement.
Kill myself.
He grinned wildly. The hag would love this game. Like a fucked up version of Love Me/Love Me Not. He began to furiously rip the petals from the bud.
Be a villain.
Kill myself.
Be a villain.
Kill myself.
Katsuki walked along, mindlessly making his way through the dark streets. Petals floated to the ground behind him alongside the droplets of sticky blood. A trail of red-red blood, red petals. Katsuki loved the color red. Red stained his past. Red eyes, red blood, red petals.
Katsuki thought about killing himself. It was all his mother ever told him anymore. Well, besides the villain shit, but that was fucking obvious. Everyone said that. Katsuki knew it was true.
But suicide? That was different. Katsuki knew that. The hag had always told him to kill himself, but only recently had those words begun to hold any weight. He never really believed her before. It was just something she said to try to keep him controlled. To destroy his burgeoning ego. Katsuki was both grateful and hated it at the same time.
But now? He was tired.
Katsuki had spent years pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Brash, confident, loud and indisputably the best.
In truth, Katsuki was no better than a smudge of dirt on the street.
And fucking God, was Katsuki tired of acting like he was anything better than that.
The petals continued to fall. There were much less now. The bud was beginning to look naked. Only a few of the soft, crimson petals remained.
Be a villain.
Kill myself.
Be a villain.
Kill myself.
Ah. So there it was then.
The last petal was innocently held between two blood stained fingers.
An empty pit opened inside his chest. Feeling hollow, Katsuki let it go. The final petal floated aimlessly to the ground.
When Katsuki finally began to gain some sense of awareness, he was stumbling outside the dorms of Heights Alliance. It was Friday or Saturday he was pretty sure.
They had been given the opportunity to go home on the weekends. Katsuki never really went but his mother demanded he come home this weekend. Something about a fancy dinner that the hag needed him to cook for. Naturally, the fucking hag got drunk before Katsuki even began cooking and started getting physical with him.
On nights like these he often snuck a couple drinks when she wasn’t in the same room. She drank enough that it was never noticeable as long as she didn't catch him in the act.
At first Katsuki didn’t really think twice about the extra fists thrown his way tonight. It was shit, yeah, but he deserved it. That cut of beef was expensive and he had charred parts of the steak a bit too much to be of the quality that was expected. The punishment was deserved. Necessary.
But as the night stretched on, Katsuki finished the cooking. The hag was still mad about some work thing. He didn’t really ask for the details before the bottle shattered against his skin.
At that point, the hag was a lost cause. Katsuki had never left home so fucking fast in his life. He grabbed his bag by the door, threw a bottle of some vodka inside while she was still rampaging in the kitchen and slipped through the front door before she was any wiser.
The rest of it was more hazy.
Katsuki remembered drinking on the top floor of some parking garage, sprawled out like a starfish on the rough concrete. The twinkling stars against a backdrop of dark sky and a cool night wind. He remembered the feeling of gravel between his fingers. The cuts on Katsuki's shoulder stung painfully and his stomach churned when he plucked out shards of glass with trembling fingers.
Katsuki doesn't remember climbing over the wall. One minute he was staring at the stars and suddenly Katsuki is one step away from diving off the roof. The pavement taunted him six floors below. If he dives head first, Katsuki is positive it would kill him. It doesn't scare him, at least, not like it used to. He wants it. He wants to be nothing at all.
Katsuki can’t remember why he didn’t let go of the ledge. He can’t remember why he clambered back over. He can't understand why he didn’t kill himself.
But God, Katsuki wishes he had.
No lights were shining through the windows of the common room, thank fucking God. Katsuki had no idea what time it was, but he fucking knows he wasn’t supposed to be on campus or drunk. He had absolutely no desire to talk to anyone for the rest of the weekend.
If Katsuki was a bit less drunk than he currently found himself, he would have blasted himself straight to the balcony of his room. But his explosions get harder to control when he lacks awareness like this and Katsuki was not trying to blow his arms off right now.
It would probably just be a messy and painful way to die. If he even died before someone found him.
Either way, not the fucking way he wanted to die.
Katsuki drags his aching body up the steps and stumbles into the door. It's stupid, and he knows that, but part of him is falling apart because goddamnit-nothing ever fucking goes right.
Nothing is going right and Katsuki is just a fucking mess. He's so tired of pretending. He's tired of trying to be a good person. It's pointless, anyway. Because he's fucking useless. He can't even be fucking kind.
Katsuki's crying when he makes it inside. Katsuki can’t even stop the tears. He keeps wiping his eyes furiously but the tears are relentless.
Then the strap of his bag catches on the door, and Katsuki rips it free quickly. The bottle of vodka clatters noisily to the ground.
“Are you fucking me? Are you actually fucking kidding me?” Katsuki hisses through a clenched jaw. He snatches the bottle from the floor, shoving it deep within the bag and yanking the zipper shut.
Katsuki glares at the wall, flexing a bloodied fist. How much fucking trouble would he actually get in if he slammed his fist through the drywall?
The thought sobers him from the burning pit of anger. After all, if he did that, Katsuki would only be proving everyone right.
All he really wants is to be alone right now.
The anger is sobering. Katsuki wipes his eyes furiously one last time and the tears don't return.
“Blasty? You good?”
Katsuki turns reluctantly towards Mina's voice. Unfortunate, but Mina’s more chill than the rest of the fuckers in his class. Besides Kirishima, he’d rather be caught by her than anyone else drunk in the common room.
The entire, and he fucking means entire class is seated in various spots around the common room, all centered around the TV. And every one of those motherfuckers are staring openly at him. He freezes.
Katsuki is suddenly very aware that not only is he probably still dripping blood but he looks like he's been crying.
He pastes a weak smile on his face regardless. “Oh, hey.”
If anything, all the fuckers now look concerned. Katsuki isn't angry for once. It's almost kind of nice that maybe they care a little bit about him? Or they just don't want blood on their floors. That's more likely the case. His hag of a mother would be pissed too.
“Uh, no offense,” Kaminari glances around to the others. “Weren’t you supposed to be home this weekend?”
Maybe they just didn't want him here, he realizes. Katsuki rolls his eyes and takes an unsteady step forward. If his class doesn't want him here that's fine. He wants to be alone anyway. “Yeah, didn't work out. I came back.” The words kind of drag together against his will. Internally, Katsuki winces.
Kirishima is looking at him oddly but it’s Sero who suddenly looks a bit alarmed and glares at him accusingly. “Are you drunk?”
Katsuki blinks. Suddenly they’re all squinting at him, trying to figure him out. Their eyes make him uncomfortable and he doesn't trust himself to talk without giving away his slurred speech so he just clicks his tongue.
Kaminari gasps loudly and starts hitting Sero. “Holy shit, dude, I think you're right!”
Mina slaps a hand over her mouth to cover a laugh. “Oh my god, Blasty! Were you at a party?”
Okay so they're not mad about the blood. They don't sound completely pissed that he's here either so he smiles a bit at them. “Fuck. Off.” It's more playful than aggressive, and Katsuki rolls his eyes. His words slur together slightly because his fucking tongue feels a tad uncooperative.
The Bakusquad dissolves into laughter while the rest of the class are sharing looks between their friends. Katsuki finally turns to face them and one of the fuckers curses loudly. It kind of hits him then, that maybe they didn't comment on the blood because they couldn't see it.
“Holy shit, are you okay?” Mina stands up, looking pale. She's studying him completely now, and he kind of withers away under her intense eyes.
He can't. Not now. He can't tell them shit. Katsuki narrows his eyes.
“D-don’t worry ‘bout it.” Christ, he sounds as bad as his fucking mother.
Kirishima starts rushing over, with the rest of the little gang following. Kirishima's eyes are roving over his bleeding shoulder. “Oh god, Bakugou, you’re like, dripping blood. What happened?”
Katsuki steps backward quickly as Kirishima reaches out to touch him. “I said fuck off. M’ fine. Don’t even feel it.”
Deflect, deflect, deflect.
Kirishima stops hesitantly and bites his lip. “Bakugou, that looks bad.” Then his eyes drift to Katsuki's face and he’s sucking in a breath.
“Are you okay?” He whispers it quietly, like its a secret between them. Mina and the rest of his tentative friends seem to realize too. He can see the worry on their faces. Why are they worried? Its just a little blood. He's had so much worse. And this was deserved.
Katsuki decides at this point that he needs to get the fuck out of there. He steps around them, glaring viciously. It’s all he can do to keep Kirishima and the others at a distance right now. Lord knows he can’t physically keep the others back.
“Alright fuckers. You’re all great and all that, but imma go to bed. Don’t be a snitch,” Katsuki growls, but it's more to keep up appearances. They don't buy it, he can see it in their eyes. “Snitch an' I’ll fuck you up.”
He staggers over to the elevator. Kirishima doesn't follow him. He's glad they're respecting his space.
“Dude are you sure? You look like shit. We can help you bandage that?”
Katsuki waves him off. Everything is getting hazy and he's really fucking tired and sad. He doesn't want to talk anymore. Katsuki just wants to pass the fuck out and forget this ever happened.
Katsuki is eternally grateful that out of the entire class, fucking Izuku isn’t here right now. Izuku had seen him on nights like these before and alongside that uncanny ability to read through all of Katsuki's bullshit, Izuku knew or at least had a vague idea that something weird was happening with his mom.
Last time Izuku had found him drunk and bleeding, he made Katsuki make some dumbass promise to call him next time it happened. (They weren’t stupid enough to assume it was a one time thing.)
Honestly it hadn’t crossed Katsuki's mind to call the green haired fucker until now. Once Izuku found out, because there was no way this little tidbit of knowledge wouldn’t drift to his ears, he was gonna be pissed.
But this was a problem for future Katsuki.
Katsuki went to hit the button for the elevator-because fuck trying to navigate stairs right now- when the doors slid open unprompted.
“Hey guys I got the-“
Katsuki blanched.
Izuku stood frozen in the elevator, holding a DVD in hand. Katsuki steps quickly to move around him but Izuku matches his motion to block his escape. Green eyes quickly scanned Katsuki, from the drying tear tracks on his face, to the blood still oozing from his shoulder.
“Are you-“ Izuku shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. Katsuki can see the moment everything clicks. Izuku's eyes narrow accusingly. “You didn’t call me.”
Katsuki opens and closes his mouth like a fish. There's nothing to say.
Shitshitshitshitshit-
“Why didn’t you call me?” Izuku mutters sadly.
Katsuki swallows. When he's drunk, it’s like all of his defenses crumble in front of his oldest friend. All Katsuki can think of is what a complete asshole he's been. What a villain he's been to his friend. His own friend. Can they even be called that anymore?
Izuku is still watching him carefully and Katsuki knows without a doubt the longer they stand here the more Izuku understands what’s happening.
“M’ goin’ to bed.”
And then Izuku does something that Katsuki hasn’t heard in a while and their classmates have probably never had the pleasure of experiencing.
“What the fuck?” The abrupt and loud appearance of Katsuki's unofficial favorite curse word has him locked in place. Izuku rarely, if ever, curses. Among those rare instances, the person on the receiving end has never actually been him. Despite all of the ample opportunities Katsuki has provided him in the past, Izuku has never cursed at him.
Katsuki winces as Izuku fixates a vicious glare at him, scowling furiously. It reminds him of-
Izuku squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Don’t be stupid, Kacchan.”
The words are a punch to the gut; even though Katsuki is sure he didn’t physically flinch, Izuku is wincing all the same.
He's observant like that, Katsuki has to remind himself. It's like Izuku is intimately aware with Katsuki's own emotions. Hell, Izuku probably is. He probably has a better handle of what and why Katsuki is feeling a certain way than Katsuki himself. Katsuki never minded it, not really. Izuku's strange emotional intelligence on Katsuki has actually saved him a lot of unnecessary words and explanations.
“Kat,” he murmurs softly so the others can’t eavesdrop. It's the nickname reserved for nights like these. Nights when Katsuki drops any pretenses and shields around his childhood friend. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m just worried about you.”
Katsuki huffs a small sigh. Izuku wouldn't hurt him. He knows that. Logically, he understands it. Katsuki doesn't think he's ever been genuinely mad at Izuku. Fake anger, yes. Real anger, no.
Izuku knows this too. (He knows everything)
Izuku offers his arm so Katsuki doesn’t topple over. Katsuki keeps his eyes glued to the floor and wordlessly accepts, leaning into him.
“Alright.” Izuku speaks confidently, addressing the gaggle of idiots in the common room. “You guys have a good night, I’ll leave the DVD here.”
Uraraka’s voice is hesitant. “You-you’re leaving, Deku-kun?”
"Of course." Katsuki can feel Izuku scoff. The words roll of Izuku's tongue so naturally, Katsuki can almost hear the challenge underlying them. Why wouldn't I? He seems to say. “If you need anything we’ll be in my room.”
Katsuki raises his head to snarl without any heat, “Why the fuck are you sayin' it like tha-?”
Izuku doesn’t even look at him, he's focused on something across the room. “Shut up, Kat. I told you to fucking call me.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “M’ sorry I fuckin' forgot. Jesus.”
Izuku doesn’t respond to him. He smiles at the class but its strained. “Goodnight.”
They head back into the elevator and the doors begin to slide shut when Izuku abruptly shoves his hand in between to stop them.
“Listen, I better not hear shit about this from the teachers. I trust that everyone will keep quiet about this, alright? Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”
Izuku drops his hand and the door closes shut, finally separated them from their stunned class.