You Idiot | Bakudeku/Suicidal Deku

81 - I just felt bad

Bakugo POV (tw, death)

"We've decided to stop our search for Izuku for the time being."

My heart felt like it was suddenly made of iron, weighing down in my chest to the point of nausea. I kept my lips pressed closed tightly, counting on Mr. Aizawa to say something. If I opened my mouth, I feared nothing would come out. For the first time, I was silent. I didn't even feel like yelling at them.

The raven haired man beside me growled, glancing at me and my curious face before shoving me into the classroom in the hopes I wouldn't overhear any more of the conversation.

"You're kidding, right?" He growled, stepping into the hallway. I pressed myself against the door frame, trying to catch as much of their conversation as I could before they decided to walk out of earshot. My ears were rough enough as it is, so I didn't really have an advantage.

"I'm deeply sorry, but our force has other matters to attend to, mainly circling around the rising crime prior to All Might's death. We're having to work twice as hard, and while I truly wish we could continue working through this case, it's going to have to be set aside for the time being."

"That's bullshit. All of that is bullshit! You're going to stop looking for a missing kid because criminals are on the loose? That's what all these pro heroes are for!" Mr. Aizawa snapped at the shaken officer, towering over him. "He's going to fucking die, whether at his own hands or at the hands of one of these dangerous villains you're going on about."

"It's not up to me, my superiors have given us these orders. Take it up with them."

"I'll fucking take it up with them, now listen...he's...you're..."

That fucker began talking in a low voice, so my stupid ass ears couldn't pick it up.

As non-chalantly as I could, I brushed past the students beginning to flood the classroom and over to my seat. Wind flowed in through the window, rustling papers and peoples hair. His desk was still. There was a fine layer of dust coating it, which I scraped my finger against, leaving a single line standing out. I wiped it on the side of my pants, glaring at the empty desk.

You should be there. Why the fuck aren't you?

Why is everyone giving up on him so fast?

He was here only a week ago. He talked to all these people. They liked him. They valued him. They don't care.

Maybe they think it's pointless. I don't blame them, I thought it was for a while. He killed himself for sure, what was I thinking leaving someone like him alone?

But maybe that was mean of me to assume that, and I'm acting like a parent of a surviving kid who won't leave them alone in their room or trust them to be around anything potentially dangerous. Who was I to understand?

Maybe I'm the bad guy here. Maybe I was slowly driving him to hate me, by becoming restricting.

I said it was because I cared, but maybe I was just fucking everything up. Like I always do with him.Back when we were children, during middle school, and now. I'll always be defensive, and it just fucks everybody up.

My eyes drifted across the room to the golden-haired boy sitting at his desk. He combed his bangs back with one hands as his glazed over eyes studied the empty board. His bag was hanging off his chair, held in place by his arm. It was wide open.

It would just take a moment of distraction, and I could finally get rid of Kirishima's words that still lingered in my mind.

Look at Denki's phone.