If I Had One Wish

Chapter One

Chapter One - Karma

Water ran over his skin, turning the flesh red with the heat of it. The steam fogged up the mirror. The whole room was dark, the lights shut off so that he didn't have to look at himself when he stepped out, so that he didn't need to look himself in the eyes and see the depth of self loathing. The sting of the boiling hot water not being able to numb the chill in his bones, the one that creeped up his spine every time he was alone.

How had this started?

The question lay hanging in the air with the steam seeming almost rhetorical. He had no answer for it, nor did he know how to find it out. Was there even an answer?

His hair drooped from the spray, dripping with soap suds that got sucked down the drain along with the blood. He couldn't even see the red, that's how dark it was. Washes of blacks, greys and darker shades of white was all he saw. It was like his sense of colour had been stripped away along with his clothes the minute he had walked into the room. So in a way, it was like he was watching ink drip down with the light soap, making him feel oddly satisfied. Like the outside matched the venom that was inside.

The loathing ran deep, it was no surprise to him. The great Katsuki Bakugou, scared of his own reflection, terrified of his own personality, and mad at his very existence. Who would have thought?

That was the point anyway. No one would think it, meaning he hid it well. He had to hide it, he didn't want the pitiful looks people would give him if they knew. The hushed whispers of "We're here for you" or "You're trying your best." even "You're not that bad.". All lies. All told to try and comfort him when even they wouldn't believe it.

A hand ran through blonde hair, pushing it back as he looked up to the spray, closing his eyes so the water could run over his face.

He deserved it, he knew that. He was a jerk, constantly pushing buttons and hurting others. Not afraid to step on toes to get what he wants. Not afraid to mentally fuck with someone.

An image flashed in his mind causing him to grip the wall he leaned against, closing his eyes in refusal. He didn't want to think about that. Nothing bad happened.

But it could have.

He cringed at the thought in itself. It could have. That little word holding so much meaning. Enough to make him lose his mind every time he went to bed at night. The what if's, the regrets, the mind numbing feeling of denial. He was sickened by his own actions, worried about the outcomes of them.

But would he change? No, and he didn't think he could either. This was his own undoing. His own numb replay, day after day. But hey, it only happened when he was alone. That had to be a plus, right? No one witnessed his breakdown.

Not that there haven't been exceptions. He didn't want to think about that exception. He was losing himself, slowly turning to someone else in the dark confines of his dorm room after school. Hell, the most obvious option was right in front of him as he scrolled through his phone on his bed every single night.

Tell someone.

But then what? People trying to comfort him, others trying to say he needed help. He could have scoffed. Help. Just lock up in a mental asylum and call it a day, it'd be better than help. The figurative help that meant doctors, doctors who only wanted to get paid so they jack you full of medication. Oh yeah, that helps plenty. He could tell his mom, sure, but his own emotions and self doubt wouldn't let him. No matter how great a relationship they had he refused to.

The water slowed as he turned the handle closed, standing there and letting the water slowly drop down his body in thin translucent tracks. His head pounding, knuckles throbbing and turning white from the force he used to hold the showers handle.

God he wished he never spoke. Because then all of the things he had said now wouldn't be weighing him down. If he had just shut up, walked away. He was sick of all the games he played, those mind games that messed with his own conscience.

He couldn't even feel sorry for himself. This was his fault, remember? His undoing. His outcome of all the bad choices he accumulated over the years.

This was his downfall. And he wouldn't wish for it to be any other way.

This was Karma.