𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 (𝗏𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇! 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗄𝗎)

chapter sixteen

I listened quietly as the group retold stories from the past week of Izuku and the parallels between him and the League. The nagging feeling that had lodged itself in my head was apparently shared by the others as well—especially Uraraka.

Without warning, Bakugou spoke, his voice just as tense as always. "Stop avoiding it, you damn extras. He's a villain."

To that, Kirishima let out a yelp and scolded him, but Bakugou only shrugged and said, "What?"

Slowly, the others agreed. Even Kirishima, who always looked to the bright side, eventually nodded, acknowledging Bakugou's point. Uraraka returned her interest to her hair, messing with it anxiously.

"We should tell Mr Aizawa—"

"No," Uraraka said sharply, interrupting Bakugou as he started to stand up. "We can't be sure. . . . Deku just got back, anyway. What do you think would happen if we suspected him and he was innocent? He would lose all trust is us."

"And what if he isn't innocent, Round Face?" the blond countered.

"No, we have to be sure, bro," Kirishima said, tugging Bakugou back onto the couch. He grumbled and crossed his arms angrily, but he obliged.

The door opened and we all fell silent. Guilt overcame each of us as Midoriya ran into the room, drenched from the pouring rain. His wild hair was flat against his head, albeit still sticking up in some places. I stood up, wordlessly excusing myself from the conversation.

"Sorry for running off," he said, laughing quietly.

From the couch, Bakugou grumbled something incomprehensible and Kirishima shushed him hastily. Izuku paid them no attention as he joined my side, trying to wipe the water off of his phone with his soaking wet shirt.

"You're going to catch a cold," I said disdainfully, taking his hand in mine.

"I'll be fine," he answered. The shiver running through his body betrayed his words, however, and I put my arm around his shoulders as we walked up the stairs and to his room.

I closed the door behind us and he hugged me tightly, wrapping his hands around my chest and grabbing handfuls of my shirt. "You're so warm, Shoto," he mumbled. He snuggled his face into the crook of my neck and his breath was hot against my skin, even through the fabric of my shirt.

I kissed his forehead softly as I reciprocated the hug. He only clung to me tighter, holding onto my shirt like his life depended on it. The way he held me, so longingly and desperately, felt eerily familiar. This felt far more like a goodbye than anything else.

Izuku's body shook gently, even with my arms around him. When I felt a small bit of warmth seep through my shirt, I realised that he was crying, not shivering. I tightened my arms around him.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head against my neck in response. He didn't want to say anything, but he didn't have to. We remained in place, with him crying into my shoulder and me holding him tightly, for some time. The seconds turned to minutes and the minutes—well, the minutes might have turned to hours, they might not have. I didn't bother to check the time.

The sun had set long before Izuku and I finally moved. Once we did, we went to his bed, lying down to go to sleep. By then, his tears had dried, and he had stopped shaking from the cold. I made him change into dry clothes, too, even though he wanted to sleep as soon as he could.

Just like the night before, we fell asleep with our limbs intertwined. My breath was controlled, my vision was blocked, and my ears were filled with the gentle sounds of Izuku's breathing as I drifted off to sleep.

Some time later, I opened my eyes. Lightning flashed, visible through the thin curtains, and the building shook slightly as thunder roared in the sky, dominating any other sound. I listened as the storm raged on, raindrops pouring against the outside walls harder with every minute.

I jumped up, ready to comfort Izuku. He was scared of storms and always woke up because of them, so I tried to stay with him whenever there was a chance one would hit. I turned to my side, expecting to see him shaking, but I didn't see him at all. He was completely gone.

Fear ran down my body as another flash of lightning lit up the room. I stood up, ready to look for him, but something in my peripheral vision caught my eye. On the desk across from the bed there was a small, yellow sticky-note. I had never grabbed something faster.

There were only two words written on the note, scribbled down in Izuku's messy handwriting. I read the words over and over again, unsuccessfully trying to decipher them.

I'm sorry.

Those two words could have meant anything. I pondered over them anxiously, but before I could go out and look for him, I was forced to sit down. The weight of realisation flooded over me and I felt it block any other thought I had. He's gone.