School has been kicking my ass. So sorry but here you go <3
Also play this song when recommended:)
When Izuku was younger, he would be the hero of his own room. And sometimes he would like to think of how great it would be if those stuff animals and those little toy cars and those little All Might plushies were actual people; seeing their content faces as he saved yet another life. Seeing people cry in pure joy of being alive and getting to see another day. Seeing people thank him for being the peace of this world. For being the peace of his world.
When Katsuki was younger, he would be the hero of his own room. And sometimes he would like to think of how cool it would be if those figurines and those little toy cars and if those little stuffed explosions he loved so much were real people; telling him how amazing and cool and powerful he was. Telling him how superior he was than the rest. Telling him to keep going higher and higher and higher. That creating peace was what made you stronger.
When Shoto was younger, he would be the hero of his own room. And sometimes he would like to think of how amazing it would be if those plushies and those weight lifts and if those training gears were actually him; praising himself of how strong he was to prove his father wrong. Praising himself for seeking justice by using rebellion. Of how brave he was to save people in a way his father didn't like. In a way that drowned his father in his own karma.
Why? Why would I take the time to write this?
They all had different motives. Some were worse than others. Some were dark while others were filled with the sweet innocence of a child. Others were driven by the expectations you only see in plays and movies, while some remained under the shackles of the one he was meant to obey like a puppet with strings.
But just like a maze, sometimes, no matter where you go you always end up in the same place. The dead end.
And for Izuku, Katsuki and Shoto, it was peace.
Why?
They were scared to fail the audience in their room.
***
With the painting under his arm, he quickly made his way back to Shoto' house, unlocking the main door and running to his room, getting a trash bag and stuffing all of his belongings. He didn't even care to fold his clothes, his neat shirts turning into wrinkled fabric.
There was one in particular; a black shirt with little constellations littered everywhere. It was a gift from Shoto after he drowned him for the first time. As if to say sorry. Izuku found it very pretty, yet he would never wear it.
Wearing it was like wearing a visible resentment towards Shoto.
His face turned into a frown, a new small battle starting in his mind. He didn't want to be ungrateful, but after everything that Shoto did, was it really worth it at all? He didn't want to see an apology as a useless thing, but after a thousand others, doesn't it get old?
He shook his head, putting it back inside his drawers as he continued stuffing his clothes inside. But yet again, he found another piece of clothing—-a limited edition All Might sweatshirt Shoto got him after Izuku's first bruise he got by Shoto's fist.
And then again; this time with a pair of shoes Shoto got after his first time being tormented by his repeated yells, insults and screams.
It didn't stop, every time he would pick something up, he would always have a story behind it. And he hated that more than anything else in this world.
There were minutes where he would remember yells and screams. Other times where he would remember the pain in his stomach and his own vomit sitting on the floor. He would even remember the times he would look in the mirror and barely recognize himself, his shiny eyes and rosy freckles getting replaced with the horror of blue and red splotches—-his eye swollen and his nose bleeding.
So, how was 74,707 yen supposed to pay for all of his bruises? How was that supposed to cover up the yells and screams added with the burn of his nose and the brick on his chest?
It was all Shoto's fault, or that's what he remembered of course.
The last one was a whole outfit, folded so that the pants and the shirt would be latched onto each other. It wasn't cheap either, the whole outfit was branded—-one expensive design after another.
This was another apology buy. But once this memory made way into his brain, his memory and the outfit he had in his hands was like two different puzzle pieces with different ends.
It didn't add up. Not one bit. Because this was after the time Izuku stood up for himself; yelled at Shoto in such a voice that his throat hurt for days.
"I wish I had never met you! You're just like your father!"
Shoto stood still, his flames and his ice lighting up his shocked expression. His heart felt frozen in time—-as if it stopped beating for just a second. His mind burned for an apology. Burned and ached for Izuku to cover his mouth, realize what he's done and ask for forgiveness.
Izuku did. His hand slapping his mouth as his eyes went wide, just then realizing what he said as if those words weren't from his mouth.
He knew that Shoto was trying. Knew that Shoto would've cried himself to sleep if someone had told him that. But with his new high and the adrenaline of not getting hurt by Shoto's hand, he got carried away.
All Izuku did was walk away that day. Shoto cried himself to sleep, wishing his safety wasn't so mean.
It echoed in his head the same way his voice would echo in a hollow, dark tunnel. Almost like a blackhole.
Looking back however, he felt shocked. Shocked and confused as to why—- why Shoto would bring him this even after he said that. It seemed to be as if it wasn't all Shoto's fault. It wasn't just Shoto who would hurt and punch and wound.
Izuku did the same.
~~~~~
Oftentimes he would sit and think. Not just about his hero work but more importantly, his relationship with Shoto. When he would do this, it would usually be in the corner of the bathroom, his bruised arms wrapped around his bloodied legs. He had just gotten into a fight with Shoto.
His eyes weren't trickling. He wasn't sobbing and nor was he screaming for help. He didn't try to even lift a finger to get out of this place. It just—-it just wasn't worth it at that point. The only thing close to human reaction was the wince of his eyes every time something brushed passed his arms or legs; yet with his arms wrapped around his legs, his legs had grown accustomed to the heavy weight of his arms.
As much of an adult he was, his life had revolved around hero work for the longest time. Never was he taught about things such as mental health, feelings or love. He was taught about the line that separated villains and heroes, good and bad. But never was he taught about the line that revolved around love.
So there he sat, Shoto gone and the house empty. At times like these, he was his own teacher.
No, it wasn't like an equation, a history question, a grammar problem or even an English lesson he could easily look up on his phone. It wasn't something he could ask a random person and they would know the answer to. There was no such bitterness than the thought of him not knowing what something he assumed everyone knew about.
Izuku didn't know how to teach himself. His board and chalk not present while his pencil and paper weren't in front of his face.
He didn't know where to start. So instead, he decided to do something others would do to decide what to eat for dinner. His hand went inside his pocket, trying to look for it in the midst of other useless things inside.
A coin. Once he had it, he flipped it. And though the coin was only in the air for about a second, Izuku swore he could see it in slow motion. Enough time to place a bet.
Head for love, tails for hate.
The coin landed on his hand thanks to his fast reflexes. He covered it with his other hand, his heart thumping in nervousness.
Heads.
He tried to twist it, bend the situation around to make it fit the coin. Tried to make it as curvy and as bendy with no edges as the coin itself.
Maybe this is love.
Maybe Shoto was right.
Maybe I was over exaggerating.
So when Shoto decorated his face with pomegranate juice, prisoned him for days like a doll for his own use, drowned him as he felt his nose burn, littered his body in pink and blue, he had to breath. Izuku had to try to breath and repeat the same phrase over and over.
This is love.
At times where Shoto and Izuku would laugh and hug and kiss. Those were the times where he actually believed it.
This is love.
When Shoto would hold him until he couldn't breath, called him his little star all for himself.
This is love,
When they would go and read together, their own presence enough to warm up their little nook dedicated for times like that.
This is love.
When Izuku would look at himself in the mirror, only to find his busted lip, bloodied nose and swollen eye the only decoration covering his pretty freckles and his shiny eyes. His eyes that were once full of hope.
This is love.
At times when Izuku sang Shoto to sleep, hushed him with his own voice and his soft touches full of sweetness.
This is love.
When he lost his will to do just that. To do the thing that one coin told him to do. That one thing he tried so desperately to not lose. Izuku tried so hard not to lose to that blackhole, but everyday his glimmer and spark got taken away. And he was losing by the second.
When was he going to win? He was just as lost and gone as a losing dog.
At times even Katsuki tried to snatch him back, tried to run away with him the same way they did back in High School. Where their capes flew behind them as they ran on top of rooftops.
Instead, Izuku did that all alone. He tried. He had to do this. He was the Symbol of Peace! He was supposed to do this! He was supposed to laugh at this situation in a mocking tone, put his hands on his hips and smirk as he would've flicked his fingers and *poof* it would've been gone.
There was so much shit he tried to do. But at the end of the day he didn't do anything. He just multiplied his own problems. His own flaws and sins overflowed inside him, the water spilling from the glass down to the floor. And then it overflowed the room. The house. The city. Everything.
His own flaws were everywhere.
But-
This...
This is love, right?
When he would look at his body after showering, his bruises and scars and dried up blood the only thing decorating his body the same way his freckles used to litter his skin like the stars in the night sky.
With a busted lip, bloodied nose that burned just by breathing and a swollen eye, he forced his lips to turn in a smile with the help of his fingers.
"This is love."
~~~~~
With a garbage bag behind him, his canvas in his hands, Izuku made his way to the front door. He didn't even bother to say goodbye to his room, didn't even try to breath in the scent for the last time.
It wasn't something he wanted to do. The place was too cold.
But just as he was about to put his shoes on, leaving nothing but the apology gifts behind as Shoto's only reminder of him, Shoto himself came in.
Izuku stiffened, his eyes going wide with terror as he dropped his bag quickly, taking back a few steps as he hid the canvas behind his back. What is he doing here? Isn't he supposed to be wherever he was supposed to be?
Shoto's eyes went wide, the picture of Izuku and a garbage bag full of his clothes clicking into place almost instantly. As if this was the first thing he was expecting.
"What are you doing?" Shoto asked, trying not to let his hatred seep through.
"I'm leaving."
As expected. But even if it was expected, Shoto couldn't accept it. He couldn't. "Why? After all we've been through, Izuku? After our journey with making peace your just going to leave me?"
Izuku scoffed, "Peace? Peace you say? Your drawer says otherwise." Shoto didn't get it at first, trying to understand with his eyebrow raised as Izuku was in nothing but disappointment, his face so saddened but yet so angry with him. The same way adults would look at a disappointing child.
"I know what you did, Shoto."
His confused look turned into one full of terror. "W-what?" Izuku shook his head, "You killed someone. You murdered someone, Shoto! Do you not understand?!"
Izuku wasn't supposed to know. He wasn't supposed to find out. Shoto was supposed to keep it hidden, move on with his life and never get caught because he's a Pro-Hero! He's a hero, one who saves people in whatever circumstances no matter what.
Heroes don't kill.
"No. No I didn't—-I'm a hero! I save people! I-"
"You didn't save anyone. You kill."
Shoto didn't know how to react. He didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to believe the fact that Izuku knew what he did. Didn't want to believe he did that. Didn't want to believe it was all true.
"Izuku I didn't-" He extended his hand, trying to hold Izuku's scarred hand before Izuku snatched back, furrowing his eyes in such disgust Shoto wanted to cry.
"I save people—-I try to save people! I keep you safe, keep myself safe as well so I can keep others safe. I never-"
Izuku kept a straight face, his eyes emotionless even though Shoto was on the brinks of shattering, his voice cracking slowly as his feet rattled in an unsteady rhythm. Even though he looked like nothing, Izuku couldn't see him like this.
He just couldn't help but want to cry at the mess in front of him. He wanted to look away, run and forget everything that happened.
"Bye Shoto."
Shoto grabbed his hand, threw him to the ground in an instant as the canvas slipped out of his hands and skidded down the floors.
"No! No you can't!" His eyes were as big as saucers, his heart making his shirt vibrate as his hot breath hitched every second. "You won't do it again! You can't leave me again!"
Izuku growled, his teeth clenched as he got up. "Yes I can! You call yourself a hero? I thought this was love, damn it! You lied to me! This isn't love! This isn't anything you would put into pretty words! You damn...liar."
Shoto grabbed his hair, ripping it out as the white and red hairs fell out and drowned to the ground. "I never lied to you! I protected you! You just never accepted it!"
I tried everything! Everything to make you stay with me! You always tried to leave me. You always tried to leave just like the rest of them! Just like everybody else; you were leaving me!"
Izuku shook his head, his face showing such a strong emotion he hadn't shown. Yes, he felt it. But he never showed it. He was terrified. His face showed nothing but terror. Because all he saw was the dark mass accumulating slowly. The atoms substituting for Shoto's sins.
"You can't leave me! We promised, remember?!" Shoto's face was crazed, trying to smile through tears. "We would make peace together! If you leave, we won't be able to do that."
Izuku could only think of how innocent he sounded.
Shoto was sweating, his face salty from both his tears and beads of sweat. "Who's going to sing me my song? Who's going to wipe my tears? Who's going to tell you it's going to be ok, and who's going to do the same for me?"
"Todoroki I'm-"
"Don't call me that!"
With a thump, Izuku was on the floor. His lungs tightened, it felt like he was breathing off of one thin straw.
"Izuku, please. I don't want to be alone. I hate being alone." It came out as a whine, a plea the same way a child would plead their parents for a stuffed bear.
Izuku had to try so hard to not give in. To not get up and hug him. Because in all reality, he felt like Shoto didn't deserve it. But part of him wanted to fix this. Fix the broken mess that was now crying in front of him, begging for him to just stay.
"I'll do better. I swear I will-"
"I'm sorry...but no."
It was like switching a demon on.
[You can play it now]
Without another word, Shoto grabbed the bag that contained Izuku's clothes, tore it open and shook it all on the floor.
"What the hell—-Shoto no!" Izuku didn't get a chance to stop him though, the fire lighting the entire house as Shoto's left side was right beside it. Shoto turned around, his face so brand and full of craze. However, his eyes were filled with his innocent tears and fear seeping out of the depths of his heart.
"I don't like the dark," he whispered. Izuku didn't know what to do. What to say, what to think. "Shoto put it out! Use your quirk and put it out!"
So the thin floors cracked, the talk they had shattering to pieces the same way a vase would. The water spilling and the roses falling.
The aftershock.
"That...thing on the floor," Shoto whispered, Izuku looking to where his eyes were glued. The canvas. "What about it?" He hissed, walking over to it to try to protect the last he had.
Shoto beat him to it however, skidding to a stop to then grab it and hold it up high. "Who gave it to you? Was it Bakugou? He gave you this?" When Izuku didn't say anything, it just proved his point. "Why him? Why him and not me? I could buy you all of the paintings you ever wanted, Izuku!"
Izuku didn't care about what he was saying. His eyes were just fixated on the beautiful splotches of paint of Katsuki's dreams. He didn't blink, didn't move nor did he say anything.
That was Katsuki's dream.
"Give it back that's Kacchan's-!"
"Bakugou is nothing but a wild thing to me. And I'll kill him. And when I do he'll be nothing but dead to me. He will be dead to me, you and everyone who once knew him." Shoto laughed, so wicked it seemed as his quirk jumped along with his emotions.
"Why not? Katsuki Bakugou: the hero who died so foolishly in my hands!
Wouldn't that be wonderful, Izuku?"
The pretty swirls, the vibrancy and the life of it all fell to burnt bits. Izuku's scream so loud his throat felt like it was bleeding.
He ran, trying to grab the burnt pieces. Maybe try to fix it, put it back together like a puzzle piece. But all he had left were black burnt pieces burning his hands.
That was Katsuki's. It was his dream.
The pretty purples, pinks and blues turned into nothing to black, his knees on the floor as his eyes were hoping and praying that this wasn't happening. That the start of a new life wasn't burning into bits before him, the lunch Katsuki had given him, the nostalgia and the conversation they had over soft blankets and grey skies even though they had an argument a few moments ago.
It was just for a few hours. But he smiled. He smiled. It didn't matter how long he spent with Katsuki, but it was just so much better.
Katsuki's mind was so unique.
His anger rose, the feeling coursing his veins so fast and so strong it was like no other. This new feeling of something almost made him jump. His knees began shaking against the marble floors. The burnt bits slipping from his fingers and onto the floor right beside him.
He wanted to cry. Wanted to scream and yell. He had that longing for so long but never did it come true. Never did he feel his eyes water, his shoulders go sad or his soul go blue.
That was until...
Release the energy, Midoriya. And then you'll see. Anger can make even the mountains bow down to you.
Huh?
Go, do it. Create peace with your anger. Create peace with your resentment. With those scars, you can make your dream come true.
But I don't have a quirk-
Do it.
His pulse felt like he had just drunk Red Bull, his hands shaking. Almost itching for release. Well, that's because it was.
He needed to release everything he had stored up. He needed his wish; all that longing and yearning and wishing on the stars at night maybe did give him an answer.
"Damn you, Todoroki!"
The ground shook, the fire quickly spreading. The roof crumbled and everything that surrounded them crumbled, the crackling of burning substances roaring over the sound of the ground awaking.
Everything was so quick, so fast and so weird. Yet, Izuku never felt so powerful. He kept on yelling, his mouth quickly bleeding and his ears popping. The walls fell to the ground, all of the glass furniture crashing onto the marble floors. Then, the marble floors were breaking, the ground making the tiles surrender at its strength, letting it go through.
It was as if the ground was yelling with Izuku.
Then, the chandelier Izuku hated so much because he felt nothing but blind under it, fell. And it fell onto Shoto who was only trying to stop Izuku by freezing him.
"IZUKU-"
*crash*
People near them ran, feeling the earth beneath them shaking.
"An earthquake!"
"Run!"
Everyone stumbled out of their houses, the quaint place soon turning into hell. The fire back in Shoto's house spread down the street, the pieces of wood containing flames flying with the pressure of the ground making the trees catch fire, everything spreading one by one.
"A huge earthquake! Fire too! Someone get the Pro-Heroes!"
Once they heard the call, everyone ran.
"Doesn't Pro-Hero Shoto live there?"
"Why isn't he doing anything?!"
"Fuck! Where 's Pro-Hero Deku!"
Katsuki's apartment started to shake, everything slowly falling off of his cabinets and drawers. "What the hell?" At first he thought he was hallucinating, thinking his buddies were doing this on purpose.
But once he heard the scream of his neighbors, he quickly put on his hero suit and dashed out the door. He didn't even care about his neighbors, dodging their attempts to get him to help. His mind was so loud, he couldn't even hear the yells of the other Pro-Heroes coming behind him.
Deku. Deku. Deku. Deku.
I need to find him.
"Fucking damn it! Don't you dare die on me you bastard!"
His explosions were easy to catch, people identifying them quickly. Red Riot, Uravity, Creati, Froppy, everyone showed up. Everyone from Class 1-A.
"Bakugou!" He looked down, noticing Eijiro running behind him. "Go fly ahead! We'll catch up!"
"Don't tell me what to do idiot!"
His explosions popped even faster, even louder in such a desperate way his soul couldn't keep up with his mind or his body. Yet, all his eyes could seem to land on was anything green. Anything that reminded him of Izuku's hair.
Civilians laid there, either severely hurt or dead with metal poles or concrete walls above their backs, necks, heads, arms, everything. Trees getting burned and the fire passing down to houses, setting people on fire.
He then tried to fixate his eyes onto the big house. The house of horrors, the place where the only memory of an innocent person were the pictures and photographs along with letters with Morse code.
And that one letter.
'We will kill her tonight.'
That man was with Izuku. There was a murder right there with Izuku during an earthquake. And he had to find them before Shoto took this as an opportunity to do anything. He had to think. Had to control himself for one minute and think.
Earthquakes don't just happen in one small place. Did someone do this? Who could do this though?
His questions were soon answered once he found the big house. The house of horrors. Or, what was left of it. In the middle of the house stood a guy yelling his heart out, the ground below him never faulting as it shook, everything in shreds as he stood tall, blood covering him and the outfit he wore that day.
He went through so much with that one outfit.
Katsuki's eyes widened, dropping to the ground as he ran as fast as his legs took him. "Deku!"
Izuku didn't hear him though. The screaming of people's pain and the yelling of others curses blending in and turning into mush. All Izuku could hear were his quiet, nice times where he wasn't longing for emotion because he had it.
The cries with Ochako.
The determination with Shoto.
The hope with his class.
The laughter and smiles with Katsuki.
"Deku, stop you're killing people!" He yelled. Once he said that, it was like a wake up call for Izuku, his eyes opening. It was white, not a hint of green in his pupils as his hair waved in the wind, his mind like static and all the memories fading until there was nothing at all as he collapsed to the ground.
Once Katsuki made it there, he dropped to his knees—-the rubble and the pieces of metal, silver and glass making his knees bleed. He grabbed Izuku's head, set him on his lap as he checked his pulse on his neck.
Still breathing.
The Pro-Heroes came in seconds later, police and ambulance running around, trying to save as many people as possible. The police and the FBI walked towards him. Mika, Toshio and Kou standing right in front of him.
"Where is he?"
"Over there."
A little bit more to Katsuki's left laid a body that belonged to Shoto. The chandelier stabbed his legs and arms while the rubble laid on top of his back.
"Don't worry. We got his minions too."
Touya and Himiko didn't struggle when being arrested. They sort of just, let themselves get carried away by wave they created.
"I'll be...everyone I love."
"And I'll...listen to the cries of their own karma."
And as they got taken away, Tomura watching them get cuffed in the shadows, they couldn't help but laugh at the huge favor the police were doing.
All both of them could think was, 'What a big favor you're doing for our name.'
Katsuki smiled at Mika's words, Kou running to investigate Shoto to see if he was still breathing.
We got him.
After that, Katsuki completely ignored everyone. He didn't care about the blaring of the ambulance or the yelling of attention for him to get back to work. Didn't even budge when the police told him to hand Izuku over as his tears left his eyes, falling down and slowly landing on Izuku's cheek. He didn't even look up at Mika as she went on talking about everything that Shoto would have to go through.
He didn't give two shits if Shoto even died.
He was in his little space. A space where Izuku smiled at him ever so softly before shutting his eyes closed, the only thing left was the hold they each had on each other's pinky. In this world, they were admiring the beauty of this new world—-though, never beating the beauty of space.
This beauty was a beauty that maybe—-just maybe you can get out of the blackhole. Maybe, you can get out of drowning. And maybe, there is hope. Maybe Izuku's eyes don't have to be dull, with a lifeless soul and a drained out energy.
Maybe Izuku was wrong.
Maybe pretty lies do become pretty truths. Because, look. He did it. He escaped from the blackhole that drowned him for months. He finally did it.
And for just this once, he didn't feel so scared. Shoto wasn't there to scream at him, hurt him or drown him. He wasn't surrounded by those four walls. Wasn't blinded by the light of the chandelier and the marble floors. Wasn't feeling cold.
All he felt was warmth, his mind hazy but one full of peace as he felt as if he could fly.
With one last pulse, Izuku wasn't as scared as before. With one last pulse, he took in the pretty sight of the canvas filled with colors and vibrancy that remained untouched, untattered, unlike any other type of perfection.
The one that lied right beside him and Katsuki both.
The perfection of a beginning that may be full of flaws, but better than a facade covering a nightmare.
Just to clarify any confusion, the canvas was never ruined. That was a lie. The thing that was true was how Shoto fantasized about Katsuki's death, which for Izuku was like Katsuki's hopes and dreams and little fantasies crumbling to shreds. That's what set him off. For the sudden supernatural power, you will see next chapter. :)
**END OF ARC 1**