The clatter of footsteps echoed faintly through the dormitory halls as Class 1-A made their way back. The earlier evening had been uneventful, filled with the usual chaos of U.A.'s hero students. But tonight, something about the silence that followed felt unnatural.
Katsuki Bakugo stormed ahead, as usual, barking insults at those who walked too slowly. Kaminari and Mineta whispered about the girls' casual clothes—earning them disapproving glares—and Iida attempted (and failed) to rein in the group with his signature hand chops, slicing through the air at near-light speed.
Within the hour, they all gathered in the Class 1-A dorm common room, having swapped their uniforms for more comfortable clothing. Everyone was present—except for one.
"Has anyone seen Deku?" Ochaco asked, her voice breaking the comfortable lull.
"He went looking for All Might after class," Todoroki replied flatly. He sat on the couch, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the floor. "Something about needing tips on controlling his quirk."
"Didn't he say he'd come back soon?" Ochaco pressed, her brows creasing in concern.
Before anyone could answer, the door creaked open. Izuku Midoriya stepped inside, and all eyes turned toward him.
He was still in his uniform—wrinkled, filthy, and damp with sweat. His eyes were bloodshot, the veins stark against his pale skin. The green in his irises looked dull, lifeless. The boy who usually radiated nervous energy and infectious determination now walked with slow, dragging steps.
Katsuki grunted. "What the hell, Deku? Can't go a single day without crying like a damn baby?"
"Bakugo!" Iida chastised, rising to his feet with robotic swiftness. "That is not how you address a classmate, especially—"
"Yeah, yeah, I don't care," Katsuki muttered, but his eyes lingered on Midoriya longer than he'd admit. Something wasn't right. He could feel it deep in his chest.
"Deku?" Ochaco's voice softened as she moved closer, hesitating. "You okay?"
Izuku paused, his gaze shifting toward her. The silence stretched uncomfortably. Finally, he forced a smile that looked like it hurt. "Yeah... I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."
"Are you sure?" Ochaco asked.
He gave a small, brittle nod. "I think I'll skip dinner. I just need sleep."
They watched as he trudged toward the elevator, disappearing up to his room.
For a moment, no one spoke. The common room buzzed faintly with the hum of lights and the occasional scrape of cutlery against plates. Sero broke the silence, voice uneasy.
"Anyone else think he's... acting off?"
"You're not the only one," Sato muttered, his brows furrowing. "Midoriya's never like this. It's like... he's carrying something too big to hold."
The thought hung over them all like a storm cloud. Ochaco stared at the empty elevator shaft, her fists clenching at her sides. Why didn't I press him harder?
Katsuki didn't say a word. His mind was racing, though he'd never admit it.
---
The clock struck 10:30 PM.
Katsuki stood in the hallway, ready to head to bed when the feeling hit him. A gut-wrenching twist—his instincts screamed danger. The hallway felt colder, quieter. Like the world itself was holding its breath.
"Oi... what the hell?" Katsuki muttered, turning toward Izuku's room. His steps quickened before he realized he was sprinting.
"What's up with Bakugo?" Kaminari whispered.
"I don't know," Jiro replied. "But... something feels wrong."
Ochaco, heart pounding, shot up from the couch and followed him. "Wait—what's going on?"
The rest of the class exchanged looks before trailing behind.
---
Katsuki's boots skidded to a halt in front of Midoriya's door. His hand hovered over the handle, every nerve in his body screaming that something terrible waited on the other side. Without hesitation, he blasted the door open.
"Bakugo!" Iida shouted from behind. "That's—"
But Katsuki ignored him. He stepped into the room, his breath catching in his throat.
The glass doors to the balcony were shattered, shards glinting faintly on the floor. A cold breeze swept through the room, making the All Might posters flutter on the walls.
And then he saw it.
Katsuki froze at the balcony's edge. His face drained of all color.
"Deku?" Ochaco whispered as she walked toward him, each step slower than the last. She stopped beside Katsuki and looked down. Her knees buckled.
Below, Izuku lay crumpled on the ground.
His limbs were twisted unnaturally, splayed out like a puppet whose strings had been cut. His uniform, tattered and dark with spreading blood, clung to him like a cruel second skin. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the concrete crimson. His eyes—wide open and unblinking—stared blankly at the sky, their light completely snuffed out.
Ochaco covered her mouth, tears spilling over her cheeks. "No... no, no, no."
The others arrived moments later. Gasps, screams, and panicked voices filled the air. Iida staggered back, his hand gripping the doorway for support. Sero turned away, bile rising in his throat.
Mina sobbed, clutching Jiro's arm. "This... this isn't happening."
But Katsuki couldn't move. He stood there, staring down at Izuku's broken form. His ears rang, memories crashing over him like a tidal wave.
"You're useless, Deku!"
"Stay out of my way!"
"Why are you even here?!"
Every word he'd spat at the nerd echoed like a drumbeat in his head. His hands trembled, sparks flickering uselessly in his palms.
This is your fault.
The thought cut through him like a blade. Katsuki's vision blurred, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. For the first time in his life, Bakugo Katsuki felt small.
"You're supposed to be a damn hero, right? Then why—why did you let this happen?"
Ochaco fell to her knees beside him, her sobs the only sound breaking through the deafening silence.
"Deku..." she whispered, reaching a hand toward the balcony railing as if she could pull him back. "You promised... you said you'd become the greatest hero..."
Katsuki clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
But no matter how hard he fought to move, to scream, to deny what he was seeing—Izuku Midoriya was gone.