Stolen Dreams and the Nightmares That Follow

The Beginning.

Notes: It took me forever to figure out how to use this app (ﾒ﹏ﾒ) sorry if this is ooc! (((TWs: Death, brief mentions of choking)))

[Local construction teams are still working to clean up the aftermath of yesterday's tragedy. We send our hearts out to those whose everyday lives were brightened by Bakugou Katsuki's presence-]

Inko shut the television off with a soft click of the remote. Since the attack yesterday, her eyes seemed to water perpetually for both the Bakugou family's and her son's sake. Izuku hadn't left the spot he'd curled up in on the couch from the moment they'd gotten home from the scene. His eyes were puffy and red rimmed, snot and tears caked to the sleeves of his dirtied school uniform. It was like his life had been put on hold, and his mother was unsure of how to help him. "He just needs a while to process things." She told herself, her worried gaze fitting back on the pots simmering on the stove nearby. Cooking had always helped distract her, and for a moment she found herself wishing it'd distract her son as well.

Izuku was staring daggers into the floor, the sounds of his mother moving around the kitchen nearly muffled in his ringing ears. His chest ached more than any of the scrapes and bruises he'd gotten during the attack, and he was acutely aware of the hand-shaped burn imprinted on his shoulder. It was proof of Katsuki's existence, the last thing he'd ever given him. He almost hoped it'd scar, for that ugly hand shape to be etched into his skin permanently. He deserved it, didn't he? After all, it was his fault. The villain had escaped because he'd gotten in the way. He'd been the one to grab onto All Might like some pathetic weirdo. All because he wanted to know if he could still be a hero without a quirk, even if he'd already known the answer deep down. Of course he couldn't be a hero. It shouldn't have taken hearing it from All Might himself to understand that.

He was nothing more than a useless Deku.

Izuku finally snapped out of his thoughts at the small clink of plated food being set on the coffee table before him. Just looking at it made him nauseous. How could he eat, knowing that he was the reason the Bakugou's would never be able to sit down and have a meal with their son again? Without a word, he stood, hardly noticing the worried glance from his mother as he treaded down the hallway to his bedroom. The All Might-themed nameplate hanging on his door felt like salt in an open wound, and so did the countless pieces of hero memorabilia past the doorway. He almost wanted to box it all up and toss it to the curb, but he didn't have nearly enough energy to do anything but collapse onto his mattress. Besides, his mom had worked overtime to buy most of his stuff. He'd feel even more guilty, and that was the last thing he needed right now.

     The rest of the night felt like a blur. Izuku didn't sleep. Not a wink. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Katsuki. Those scarlet eyes piercing through him with nothing but hatred, even as he choked on the green sludge pouring down his throat... It was like he knew this had somehow, someway, been caused by Izuku. Like he'd known from the beginning that quirkless little Deku would get in the way of his dream. It was hard to shake the image, but it was even harder to tug himself out of bed and into the hot water of the shower. Izuku pretended not to notice the way the dirt and dried blood ran off him, swirling down the drain. He could see the way his pale flesh turned pink through the steam from the heat, feel the way it began to sting more with each drop of water, but he never reached for the cold knob. No, the sting was distracting, the only thing keeping his mind off of this mess, even just temporarily. And when he tugged a clean uniform over his raw skin, Izuku knew no one would notice, anyway.

     School was quiet. The teachers looked solemn, and Katsuki's lackeys didn't even bat an eye in his direction. No, everyone was too focused on the only empty desk in the room for most of the day. He could see the way his classmates' eyes would drift to the seat, as if reminding themselves that he wasn't going to return anytime soon. Even their homeroom teacher had almost called his name during attendance, the syllables catching in his throat before he could get past the first K like the letters were soured. The man didn't even yell at him when he put his head down against his desk, either. Instead he simply paused his speech for a moment, eyes flickering over Izuku's slumped form before he continued the lesson.

After school was even quieter. There wasn't anyone to shove him around, no one to crackle explosions in his face or turn his hero analysis notebooks to ash. Instead he was left staring at the red shoes on his feet, walking around aimlessly. Izuku didn't want to go home yet. His mother was worrying too much already, he wasn't sure he could stomach seeing her now. So, he didn't.

He kept on his path, letting his feet lead him to Takoba Municipal Beach Park by their own will. The sand of it was littered with just that: Litter. Garbage and scrap piled up so high you could hardly see the soft waves beyond them. It was sad, really, how unkempt the place had become over the many years of people dumping their trash on the shoreline. He could almost remember his mom and auntie Mitsuki bringing him and Katsuki here as kids like it was yesterday. Now no one ever seemed to visit anymore, not that it was as nice a place to be as it was a decade ago.

Making his way down the steps and through the slim clearing between two piles, Izuku settled in the sand with his back against an old washing machine. His tattered backpack landed with a soft thud next to him, and he was quick to retrieve his notebook from it. The ink had bled on the pages from where it'd landed in the koi pond. The cover, as well as the edges of some pages crisp and blackened from Katsuki's quirk. It was hard not to notice, as much as he wished he hadn't. His last entry had been about one of the latest limelight heroes, but he hadn't gotten the chance to finish it. Not before it'd been tossed out of the window. It almost felt wrong to keep writing in this one, now that he was thinking about it.

"I AM HERE!" The sudden voice dragged Izuku's attention away from the journal, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin.

Was that—?