The blond had always had an acerbic flow of speech, deathly mean. He was annoying, a brat, and angry all the time. To some Bakugou was simply a funnel, a volcano, an explosion of impetuous, long-term yet somewhat short-lived anger. It was something people believed he would grow out of, but somewhat reeled away from him for it anyways. But Kirishima had seen something in him. Along with Todoroki, he'd always seen Bakugou as a friend, even if the male didn't return those feelings.
It's something that always ticked off Iida though, raised the hairs off his body, and caused him to question how such an (pardon his rudeness) invidious person could be admitted into a hero school. The blue-haired had promptly decided a while ago, that he would not mourn or be sad for a moment, despite how it might be a more duly thing to do, he wouldn't, if Bakugou were to be expelled. In his very heavily muted opinion, Bakugou was the embodiment of a deer, seemingly harmless at first, with the face of an angel, but to care of only himself. A deer's need to live overrides any idea to save their loved ones, they'll rush at the sound of a hunter and leave their family or close ones behind. Bakugou is like that for causing that noxious Kamino incident that people had been pushed to risk their life for.
Then there was no vocal appreciation, no vocal anything. It wasn't mentioned for a while, the only sign of it was the sudden taciturnity the blond had expressed bitterly for a week. But of course, Iida only thought these things to himself. Of course he did. He didn't need to hear the whole Bakusquad completely chastise him for disliking one single person, nor did he want to face the trouble Bakugou would pull on him. It would be merely foolish to say it out loud. Iida isn't stupid. Of course, though, the blonde's grades always tailed behind his.
.
It was night, the air was cool, the wind promised good weather tomorrow. Iida breathed it in, letting himself rest into the cloth of the warm sheets. The shelf behind him, with a bountiful amount of books of pale, colors. None wore jackets, nor held titles. They were all repetitive, and it seemed hard to get lost in their endless, pages, but Iida always found a way.
Until, he suddenly felt the urge to pee. It shot him back up from bed, and he sat up erectly. Staring at the door from his spot on the bed, Iida let out a frustrated groan. In a second, he was scampering away from the sheets, and marching tiredly towards the door. He wiped the slumber from his eyes, and slipped the knob over and pulled the door open. Finally, he was into the hall, stretching his arms before squaring them back at his sides.
Then, Iida realized he was in the dorm alone. In a second, Iida felt his shoulders slump. There was reputation to uphold around his classmates, but he was alone right now. Quickly, he turned to the elevator and rushed to the metal doors, taking a step--he was greeted with a blast of cool air.
The elevator rolled with a suave whirl. Iida had rushed out, quickly speed walking to the bathroom. The wide washroom door was pulled open in a jiffy, showing the partial locker room along with the cut off peek of the curtained showers, hiding from behind a cement wall. Iida stares at the room, listening, for a moment if anybody is there. He hears something.
'Who's... there?' it's a sickly voice, it's more of a groveling tone than Iida thought was possible from the guy. If Iida wasn't sure it was Bakugou, he would have assumed they were in trouble.
'Uh, it's Iida,' Iida squares his posture, 'Tenya Iida, what are you doing here so late?'
'Mhm,' it sounds sensual for no reason, but also partly miserable, '...none of your business.'
'Right,' Letting it drop, Iida walked towards the rows of stalls, looking beyond the wall that blocked some of them, finding Bakugou's door was ajar, but it felt rude to look, as if he was intruding on something important just by being here. He needed to duck in and get out.
'Hey, class prez,' the blond speaks casually, as if trying to stifle the "damsel-in-distress" that began to ooze out his voice.
'Yeah?' Iida's now in the stall by the right, shifting his pants off and locking the door.
'Make me a promise.'
Iida's is now facing the toilet and aligning himself, really trying not to be distracted by Bakugou, 'Depends on what it is, Bakugou.'
'Right, it's not too much, you can probably do it.'
It's somewhat demeaning, Iida tries to ignore it, but is unable to and it just slips out, 'That's a rude tone.'
Bakugou just laughs. Iida's never heard Bakugou laugh. 'It won't matter in the morning.'
'No, it won't,' Iida responds nonchalantly, it will three years from now though he wants to say.
The smile on Bakugou's voice is evident in his voice, but it sounds so pathetic, and Iida can't place exactly why, but it is terrifying, 'Okay, in the morning, tell everyone I wrote a goodbye note, it's in my dorm. My dorm will be open.'
'...Sure, but you can just leave it in the common room--'
'I can't, they'll see it before morning.'
'OK, that's not so bad?'
'Iida,' that's a first, 'I said, tell them. For me? I can trust you, can't I?' in a second Bakugou's annoyance lessens into pitiful pleading, but sweetens up to a light, bubbly tone, making Iida think he's being mocked: 'Right, class prez? C'mon.'
This is so unlike him, he's usually more direct with his insults.
Iida's done with his business, he pulls the metal handle down and the soiled water in the bowl flushes away. He let's out a sigh, feeling unrelaxed from it like he usually would. Perhaps it's Bakugou's voice, it puts him on edge, it's scarily chilling, and he wishes he knew why, as he leaves the stall, 'I'll be taking my leave now.'
And just as Iida begins to exit the washroom/locker room completely, he hears the blonde's voice again, chipping at him slightly with a more harsh, befitting tone, 'I know you'll tell them, four eyes.'
Finding the strength in him, Iida snipes back briskly, 'You can't get everything you want Bakugou, I'm sure you can tell them yourself.'
Then he shuts the door behind him.
.
I'm sure you can tell them yourself
'He- He...' Aoyama's nose his red, his eyes are sleepless, his hair's a mess, it looks like a bird's nest as well. The class watches him unsettled, never having seen him so messed up, he shakes his head and wails. The police are in the dorms, and tell the students to calm down. One pulls Aoyama aside with Aizawa, the morning is too early to be conflicted by something so somber and morbidly earnest.
'What's going on?' The students ask.
'Is everything OK?' They plead.
'I'm so scared,' they worry.
Then quietly, Iida thinks, what could be so important? He wonders what could have happened last night, why the bathroom would be surrounded in yellow tape, then he adds, 'Does this have anything to do with Bakugou?'
Kaminari looks up at Iida with curiosity, 'Mhm?'
'He's not here,' Kirishima mentions.
'I just realized,' Ashido gapes.
'What did he do this time?' Sero jokes.
Uraraka laughs a bit, finding humor in Sero's joke, and others follow.
'I think it's Sero this time,' Kaminari quips, motioning to his nose and taking a deep, theatrical inhale, then exhaling silently. Sero slaps the male's arm at what he was implying.
'I didn't actually do it! It was a joke,' Sero's eyes move wearily between the cops, proving it was in fact not. Iida pretends not to hear nor see it.
Aizawa leaves the circle of cops with a gaze that speaks of amounts of sorrow, it's enough to hush the bantering students. Midoriya walks over to the teacher, staring at the man with fawn-like eyes. The sight itself causes Iida's heart to break, 'What's wrong? Please share the information, was it a villain attack?'
'No, no it wasn't, I need to get the other teachers,' if Aizawa had ever sounded vulnerable, this tone completely set a new record. It was a limp timbre, stressing the situation even more for the students. 'When are they coming, oh my god.'
'We called the boy's parents a while ago,' a cop says, intruding in on the conversation, but Aizawa doesn't mind. He seems too shattered by the news to care.
'I can't believe it,' Aoyama flails uselessly, shaking his head, those traumatized eyes run through the crowd of students like a whisper, a promise of something cloudily volatile. 'he... I... I SAW HIM!' the male breaks down into sobs again, looking at the students desperately.
'Who? What's going on?' Tokoyami's rubbing the sleep from his eyes, 'can you guys please quiet down? You're shaking the whole...' his eyes land on the dramatics of cops and tape, the clueless yet trepid class, and Aoyama who was freaking out, even Aizawa looked powerless. Iida watches Tokoyami begin to blend in with the rest of the class, their fear.
But Iida steps up, 'Aoyama, you need to calm down, OK? Tell us what happened, we can help.'
'No you can't!' He wails, 'it's too late, he's already dead!'
The word dead shuts everything up, the students seem to fold in on themselves, with questions like: 'Who's dead? SOMEBODY DIED? Please, where's Todoroki?! Todoroki's dead? OH MY GOD THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!'
'It's not Todoroki!' Aoyama shouts incoherently, waiting for his voice to stop warbling uselessly, 'it was Bakugou, I saw it--him. I saw him. He was... gone! I know it, I just saw it--and he was smiling too, he was dead, and he was... was,' he trailed off in a gasp which turned to a whimper, then a deep weep for what he saw.
'YOU'RE JOKING?!'
'NO! Kacchan can't be...'
Iida already knew it before Aoyama shouted it out. When he heard that somebody was dead, his mind had just panned past through everyone and stopped at the blond. The blond that was in the slightly open bathroom stall. Iida gaped, 'Bakugou.' He whispered. Sure, he had hoped for the male to be expelled, but not like this. Not for him to drop out of this world.
The note, he realized, was a good-bye. He spoke his thoughts out loud, 'It was a suicide.'
That piqued the interest of the cops, and the horror and abhorrence of the students.
'Huh, how so?' A cop asked.
'What? No, Kacchan would never!' Midoriya yelled in an instant, the news was already shattering him.
'It's not a joke Iida!' Uraraka shrieked.
'Shut up, would you?' Ashido snarled.
'No!' Iida screamed, his rare rage silencing the class in a moment, 'It's, I saw him the bathroom! He was having this breakdown, I think and-'
'You didn't help him?!' Kirishima barked.
'He wasn't crying! I didn't think he was going to... do this.'
'Does he have to cry for you to know he's in pain?' Somebody asks tearfully.
Iida knows he's at fault, but he doesn't want to admit to it. Not with Bakugou. Part of him is angry at the blond, but deeper he knows he's just upset at himself, '...He told me he left a goodbye note in his dorm.'
'It was a suicide.'
'I didn't think that Kacchan would...'
'Oh my god.'
.
The class and cops had mournfully shifted to his dorm, they took the stairs and not the elevator. The police officers waited outside the blonde's dorm, the very first thing the students saw when they entered the room, was an empty, orange pill bottle, sleeping on the floor conspicuously.
'Oh my god,' one of the students croak.
More steps, more looking around, and Iida watches them fill in the room. A twang of guilt courses through him, he doesn't deserve to enter. He shouldn't even be here. This whole time, perhaps he was more fit to be expelled. The nasty looks he receive are new to him, and each one makes his shrink a little more. Fitting around a bubble of tears that'll just bust. Was Iida always so quiescent? So inactive and unhelping, yet at a foolishly blissful peace with it.
'I'm sorry,' he finds himself saying, just as Midoriya announces he found the note, but not in a proud "haha I found it!" way that's like finding Waldo in the puzzle he belongs in, more in a doleful, subdued tone, that sounds vaguely devastated. It hides Iida's shy apology.
He hears the exclamations that escape the students when they read the letter, and one offers to read it out loud- Kirishima begins to read:
'Hey, if you're reading this I'm dead,' his voice quivers, he takes a moment to breathe, Iida listens a little more, 'or I think I am. I don't believe I would survive so many... pills,
'I'm not sure who I was able to tell this to you to get everyone to find it either or if you found this yourselves, but I'm glad you're reading this, nevertheless. I wonder who's reading this to you. Midoriya,' Kirishima pauses, scanning over the note and examining a little further, the students usher him, and some people are afraid to listen and can bear the pause, Kirishima continues, 'I'm sorry I did this, I know you're hurt. Kirishima, I thought you were a good friend, you'll get over...' Kirishima pauses, shaking his head he drops the letter back.
'I can't read it,' the crimson haired male says with bitter, mournful distaste. Midoriya gapes at the paper in awe. Iida wishes he could hear what he was thinking.
'I'll read it,' Kaminari shifts beside the red-haired male, gripping for the letter, and looking for the place where the male stopped, Kirishima watches him do so and takes a step back so Kaminari can fully take over, he reads through the paper and his eyes finally land on the target, 'I thought you were a good friend. You'll get over... this.
'I'm sorry again that I was never good at telling you how I felt, I wish I was better, I wish I was less closed up. More open. Sometimes I wish I was as good at speaking as Iida, as blunt and uncaring as Todoroki. I hate how things get to me. I hate how I'm writing this. I don't want to do this, I'm scared. I'm scared to die, but I'm just as interested. God,' Kaminari rubs his eyes harshly, but it only causes him to cry a little more, 'I hate being so pathetic. Whatever. This is the note for the class, I wrote more personal notes for people. People I'll miss, people I think might miss me. The directed notes are in my drawer. There's one for everyone in the class. I apologize.
'I never really hated any of you. I just hated myself, that's it. I'm so sorry Izuku, I'm sorry I put you through so much pain,' Kaminari is trying hard not to cry so he could read clearly, but his voice warbles. Midoriya begins to shed tears, collapsing on Uraraka who holds and rubs his back like a child, letting him tire himself into her shoulder, 'you should never forgive me though. Please, please don't miss me. I know this won't do much, but Izuku, that's all I want.'
'You know I can't...' Midoriya groans into Uraraka's shoulder like he had been shot, you can hardly hear his words, and it sounds like he was going to die too.
Iida's still shocked that Bakugou was envious of him, that he wanted his abilities. It never hit him that the blond would ever want anything from anyone. Even Todoroki looks haunted because his name had been mentioned, as if Bakugou's ghost had slapped him across the face and yelled at him. Tears begin to brim in the half colored male's eyes.
'I want that so much, I even wish you were the one that had ended my life, but you won't. You'd never, you're too nice to go through with something, you'd just tell Aizawa. But would he believe me?' Aizawa takes on Todoroki's expression in a split second, Kaminari goes on, 'I guess he won't. This doesn't make sense. I'm sorry.'
Kaminari's voice reflects pain, the pain Bakugou turned into words, the unjust of it all, the hurt. Bakugou hadn't ended his pain, he had only doubled it in on the others in the most grievous and selfish way, '...Love, Katsuki.'
.
Iida doesn't want to read his assigned letter, he picks it up because it's expected of him to. Everybody watches him with accusatory eyes, and he knows it'll only get worse if he doesn't do so. Quietly, they eye him with so much prejudice, it causes the male to wilt a little.
'Why?' One of them asked, and Iida knows what the question means.
'I'm sorry,' Iida repeats.
'Sorry doesn't change anything,' Kirishima's voice is full of venom.
'I couldn't do anything!' Iida cries, finally breaking down under their stare, and some of them lessen, but some remain steely. Some people don't even look at him. 'I-'
'You didn't even try,' spat Jirou, 'you didn't do anything. You could have, you definitely could have, you just chose not to.'
'I... that's not fair! I didn't realize.'
'You obviously did!' There's so much anger in Kaminari's voice it seems to shake the room, 'IT'S YOUR JOB TO REALIZE! YOU'RE THE FUCKING CLASS PRESIDENT! I BET IF IT WAS ANYBODY ELSE THIS WOULDN'T BE HAPPENING! EVERYBODY KNOWS YOU NEVER LIKED BAKUGOU!'
'And how do you blame him for that?' Uraraka runs to Iida's defense, Iida feels all but thankful though. Kaminari's words are too sharp, with a doubly edged truth to go with them. Iida can no longer breathe, he's choking on sobs, 'Bakugou's always been such a douchebag.'
'SHUT UP! THAT DOESN'T MEAN HE DESERVES TO DIE!' Midoriya shrieks, pulling a way from a stunned Uraraka, then he takes a moment to calm down, using the back of his arm to wipe the snot from his nose.
'I never said that, I'm sorry,' Her tone is hurt and full of shock, but it doesn't level Midoriya any lower or higher.
'No, you're not,' Midoriya says, and he swears he can feel sanity escaping from the back of his head, '...it's exactly what Kaminari said: because if it was anybody else, you wouldn't be defending Iida.'
There's a quiet mumble of agreement, which seems to be the highest volume these hurt kids can go to.
.
If it was anybody else, Iida would have saved them.
He sits in his empty room this morning. Class was off for a week or two, and he just stares at the note Bakugou had wrote him. He looks at the paper but doesn't see the words, he knows they're there but he can't read them. Not behind his guilty tears that flow, he uses his hand to rub the salty excess away, staring at his hands. These tears are like blood. Blood on his hands.
Iida practically killed Bakugou, didn't he?
Iida practically traumatized Aoyama for life, didn't he?
Iida practically hurt everybody that loved Bakugou, didn't he?
Iida practically ruined Bakugou's family, didn't he?
Words: 3266
A/N: I hope this made you cry, but again, I'm not sure... Haha, I tried pouring my soul into this! I'm not good with heavy angst.