Chapter Text
KATSUKI
Ash. Thick. Cloying. Toxic. It falls from the sky like gentle snowflakes covering the earth and everything still left living. Breathing. His hands hang at his sides as he looks over what is left of a once thriving city. Musutafu has fallen, the last stronghold of the war. He wipes the sweat and blood from his forehead and looks down at the cracked and blackened gauntlets at his feet…a symbol of foreboding and the impending future. He searches desperately for any sign of what’s left of the resistance, any of his friends that had fought by his side…but all is quiet. Silent.
His breath burns, sawing in and out of his chest in raw tortured breaths, the bandana around his mouth doing very little to ease the poisonous air suffocating the land.
A single tear rolls down his cheek, seeing the destruction of his disintegrated home. Azure fires still burn like spotlights in the night, harbingers of the new future…a new reign of villains.
Katsuki startles awake and immediately reaches for the pill on his nightstand. He pops it dry and lays back against the scratchy pillow, staring sightlessly at the water stained ceiling. He’d found this place by pure accident, stumbling into an abandoned apartment building on the outskirts of town. Someone had once lived here based on the stained tatami on the floor and chipped wooden nightstand, a still functional microwave in the corner. He was surprised to find it still uninhabited and claimed it for his own. It worked for his purposes…a place to hide. He sits up as the images, the nightmares, fade from his mind–courtesy of the viridian now coursing through his veins.
He doesn’t remember when he became this way. A wraith. A mere specter going through the motions of survival. He doesn’t remember exactly when he retreated from his ideals and gave up the fight. Sometimes he just thinks of ending it. There’s really nothing and no one to live for. All of his friends are gone. Luckily, his family had been evacuated before the final battle…safe somewhere out of the country. He can’t contact them. Quarantined off by a land now staked by criminals. He imagines there’s some heroes left…he can’t be the only one, but he has yet to come across any in the desolate wasteland that is Japan. Only the center of Musutafu remains after Shigaraki’s apocalypse of terror and Deku’s betrayal, rebuilt in the image of debauchery
A sharp pang races through Katsuki’s chest, but the drug quickly numbs it. Thoughts of Izuku Midoryia often provoke that reaction. No matter how inebriated he gets, Katsuki can always remember the day that Izuku, his best friend and lover, looked at him and smirked as he walked across the parking lot to join in the final standoff…on the wrong side. Something broke in Katsuki that day… He grabs the whiskey bottle from the floor and takes a swig. Before the burn even dissipates from his throat, he scrubs a scarred hand through his blonde stubble and lights a cigarette and wearily gets to his feet to gaze out the window where rain beats against the pane. He feels nothing as he looks out over the expanse of blurry dilapidated buildings toward the neon lit city center, where the hub of society was rebuilt into high rises, clubs, bars and dens of iniquity. New Musutafu is under the Liberation Army’s control and Katsuki only ventures there rarely when food becomes too scarce in what is now known as The Wastes.
The Wastes are dead lands, filled with crumbling structures and deadly hazards. Areas of toxic gas pockets, courtesy of a villain’s quirk during the war, are located sporadically throughout the abandoned part of the city. Katsuki has mapped them extensively and avoids them. Areas of unstable buildings and rubble frequently collapse and occasionally the earth quakes with remnants of a seismic quirk that had been used by a hero in response to the first waves of attack. It affected the tectonic plate below them causing frequent shaking to spread throughout the immediate area. Katsuki has grown used to the flares causing water lines to burst or electric transformers to fall from the sky. Very few choose to brave The Wastes. Nothing will grow here and any food remaining in the area is tainted by toxic air. Katsuki knows that his lungs have extensive damage from braving the elements here. No one lasts long out here, but Katsuki has learned the lay of the land and the villains never come looking here. Too dangerous even for them. He’d rather the land kill him, then the villains find him. He’s heard the rumors of what happens to them at the Liberation’s hands.
He takes a deep drag of smoke and blows it out against the condensation of the window, the brightly lit cherry glowing in the dark room. He glances toward his ripped and ragged rucksack on the floor and sighs. He’s going to have to venture out today. He needs food and to replenish his stash. His stomach rumbles loudly in the room as if in response to the thought and he groans. Reaching down, he slides his boots on. He doesn’t need to dress. He sleeps in his ratty clothes, in anticipation of the moment he’s going to have to run. The day will come soon, he knows. He runs a hand through dirty blonde locks that have grown a little too long. He’s going to have to shave them off again soon. His blonde spikes are a little too recognizable and villains have a long memory.
He takes another drag and sets the cigarette on the windowsill as he pulls on his dark sweatshirt and pulls the hood up over his head, casting his face in shadow and slings his rucksack over his shoulders. He chuckles darkly to himself at the thought that he has everytime he leaves his apartment…maybe it will be the last time. Maybe today is the day he’ll be caught. The thought doesn’t bother him as much as it should. He stubs out his cigarette and opens the window.
When he swings himself outside onto the wet fire escape, he jumps the broken gap in the metal and makes his way down hastily. The rain quickly soaks his clothes into his threadbare socks through the hole in his boots. He reaches the alley and skirts around the pockets of flooding where the pavement has craters and cracks, reminders that this was once a warzone. He clutches his rucksack tighter when he reaches the street. He never knows who he’s going to encounter and has had his meager belongings stolen more than a few times.
Once upon a time, he would’ve blasted someone to kingdom come for even daring to steal from him, but now he keeps his quirk hidden unless he absolutely needs it. It draws unwanted attention and the last thing he needs is to tip off the generals that he’s still alive. Even seven years later, he knows they’d come for him. Deku would find him. More pain shoots through him and he rubs his chest absently. Some days, the pain drowns him…Some days, he feels nothing at all…and Some days, hatred consumes him. It’s always a gamble as to which one he’d wake up to. Subconsciously, he touches the pocket in his jeans where he normally stashes his pills. They’re the only thing that keeps the pain away.
He picks up his pace as he makes his way down one dark street after another, not looking too closely at the skeletal buildings and piles of rubble that make up The Wastes. Occasionally, he sees a curtain shuffle or eyes peering out at him from dark windows, usually drifters or others like him…strong enough to brave the barren wasteland. He ignores them, he can’t help them even though he knows the suffering of those abandoned out here. The glow of the city lights gets a little brighter, hiding the stars behind their glow. He’s thoroughly soaked and his body shivers in the cold, but the sensation is muted and he pays it no mind.
Even in the drizzling rain, people start to appear, walking the streets around him as he reaches the edge of The Wastes. The buildings here are better cared for. Almost like passing through a mythical barrier, it’s like crossing into another world entirely as neon signs flash blindingly advertising elicit wares. Everyone here is an enemy and he slows his gait to blend into the background.
Luckily, his clothes aren’t out of place in the weather. No one pays him any mind. He crosses into a busy crowded square with market stalls set up and purposely bumps into a man, leaned over to look at some jewelry on display…no doubt stolen wares. He slips his hand into a pocket during the collision and then quickly shoves the wallet into his hoodie pocket as he mumbles a quick and low apology. The man barely glances at him and grunts in response before turning back to his inspection of a necklace being held out by the vendor.
Katsuki hustles around the corner and pulls the wallet out, hoping that he’ll only have to do this once tonight. He hates stealing, but when in Rome… He pulls the cash out of the back pocket and counts it quietly before shoving it in his back pocket and dumping the wallet in a trash can. Enough to get some food and replenish his stash of Viridian.
Katsuki picks his way through the crowded nightlife, knowing that come daylight this area will be quiet with only a few stragglers making their way home for the day. Even now, the changes to the city weird him out. Everything comes alive at night. He shrugs internally, evil has always flourished in the dark.
There’s shouting up ahead and he sees two men facing off outside one of the many city brothels. Some kind of electric quirk flares from one of the men and the other flinches. He thinks of Denki then…
Blood matts his blonde hair and trickles from his mouth, sightless eyes stare into the distance. Katsuki reaches down and gently closes his eyes, a whispered goodbye passing his lips.
Katsuki grimaces before the numb overtakes the feeling and shoves the memory into obscurity once again. Katsuki shoves his hands in his pockets and hurries past them, not making eye contact or addressing the interaction in any way. Quirks in public are now commonplace and Katsuki has made an art of remaining unseen.
Finally, he reaches his first destination, a small grocery store, hidden on the backside of a seedy alley. Katsuki chooses this one because his presence will go unnoticed. This close to the outskirts, drifters aren’t uncommon. He quickly scoops up dry packaged foods and a few water bottles. Water in The Wastes is questionable at best, sometimes running a muddy brown before turning clear. He’s never sure if the toxicity has leaked into the aquifers deep underground or leached through the burst pipelines. Katsuki manages to bathe once a week, if possible, but limits his exposure to the water as best as possible. He pays the bored looking attendant, and shoves the food into his rucksack making it bulge as soon as he’s out the door.
One more stop and a stone of dread drops into his stomach. Viridian is getting harder to find, being ousted by a more popular drug Dazzle that invokes extreme feelings of euphoria. After the war, many sought to be numb from the grief and helplessness. Dealers were only too happy to support the demand. However, as society has been rebuilt, many now seek escape to a happier place paving the way for powerful new substances that can provide anything the modern criminal desires. Katsuki refuses to give in…the numb is safe. He doesn’t seek temporary happiness, he craves to forget.
Katsuki makes his way further into the glitz and brightness of the inner city. He knows a guy, Baldy. They don’t have names other than what Katsuki has dubbed him in his head, but on a night like tonight, there’s only one place his dealer would be. Temptation. The club in the inner sanctum of the city is a hotbed of activity. Full of flashing lights, thumping bass, and bodies writhing together blissed out of their minds. Worst of all, it falls squarely in the Liberation’s territory…Katsuki resists the urge to rub his temples in anticipation of the oncoming headache. He’s been going to the same guy for almost two years. No questions are asked. Just a simple change of hands before Katsuki disappears into the wind. The location is the most unfortunate part. Hopefully, tonight will be a quick in and out, with none the wiser.
Katsuki pushes his way in the door to the club past scantily dressed patrons. Long gone are the days of bouncers, door fees, and age checks. Everyone knows what they’re getting when they walk through those doors. He scans the crowd for the tall, bulky man with a bald head. In all the time that Katsuki has been going to Baldy, the man has never changed his appearance…always in black dress pants and a gaudy dress shirt in some sort of bright obnoxious color, open to display his hairy chest and gold chain around his neck. The man screams “drug dealer" and Katsuki is grateful when he spots the man right away in one of the darker lounge areas of the club.
Pushing through grinding sweaty bodies, Katsuki pulls his hood further over his features and makes his way towards the bald head glinting in green strobes and the atrocious bright yellow shirt. As Katsuki gets closer, the man looks up and acknowledges him with a nod. Katsuki finally stops when he’s standing in front of him, straddling a chair and nursing a glass with some sort of bright blue liquid that Katsuki doesn’t recognize.
“Well if it isn’t my best regular…How’s it going, stranger?” The man asks with a smirk.
Katsuki’s lips thin in displeasure and remains silent. They don’t do conversation. Usually the exchange is silent. He pulls the cash out of his pocket and holds it in front of him. The man’s smirk morphs into a sleazy grin and he pulls a clear small bag full of pills out of his shirt pocket. “Had a feeling you’d be showing up soon.”
Katsuki immediately notices that they’re a different color, teal instead of their iconic deep green, and his guard flies up. “Where’s the regular sh*t?” he growls lowly.
The man shrugs, maintaining the grin. “Different supplier, different color.”
Katsuki eyes the bag, not hiding his suspicion. The man chuckles then, a dark seedy sound. “You’re welcome to sample to verify its authenticity. sh*t’s becoming harder to get and fewer people making it.” He opens the bag and holds a pill out to Katsuki.
Katsuki hesitantly takes the pill from him and examines it closely. It’s a massive risk, but already he can sense the feelings in him rising to an unbearable level. The ever-present grief and anger slipping past the numb to swamp him in desperation and despair. Katsuki levels Baldy with an intense stare, searching for signs of deception. The man maintains his sleazy grin and holds out his hands in a placating gesture, “What? You don’t trust me? You been comin’ to me for how long now…I ain’t steered you wrong yet.”
He’s right, and Katsuki feels the itch under his skin…a burning that warns of the incoming tide of emotions he doesn’t want. He raises the pill to his lips, keeping his eyes glued to Baldy’s. Suddenly, the man’s muddy brown eyes shift suddenly to the side to stare at something over Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki makes it half a turn before his eyes land on a familiar face and for a moment he fears he’s hallucinating.
“Hey Bakugou,” a deep gravelly voice intones. Katsuki eyes the lavender hair and dark circles under his eyes, as a solid hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes gently, and Katsuki feels the intoxicating rush of relief run through him at the sight of a familiar hero.
“Shins–” Katsuki starts, but then blankness overcomes him and his body stills- frozen. Well f*ck. He can still hear and see even if the details are fuzzy, but can’t move any of his limbs. The feeling is familiar and he knows that he’s trapped in Shinsou’s quirk. Something about that is comforting. He remembers this feeling from when they used to spar in high school, in their golden days at UA before the world went to hell. He aches to speak, to ask why…but nothing but breath rushes out of him.
Shinsou reaches toward him and plucks the pill from his hands, and gently pushes it past his slightly parted lips. There’s a bitter taste rapidly dissolving on Katsuki’s tongue and his body automatically swallows and he knows without a doubt that what he was just given was not Viridian. Shinsou pushes Katsuki’s hand down to his side and reaches forward. Katsuki stares in confusion until Shinsou grips the edge of Katsuki’s hood. He tries to squirm away. He can’t be exposed. He tries to fight, but nothing moves. Pure panic laces Katsuki’s veins and feelings threaten to overwhelm him.
“Bakugou,” Shinsou coos, meeting his eyes that he knows are glazed over with a milky film. “I can feel you fighting. There’s no need to hide anymore. We’ve been searching for you,” he says softly and Katsuki fights harder, feeling like he’s trapped in a steel box in his own mind. Shinsou yanks his hood back and Katsuki’s face is revealed. “There you are. Deku will be so happy to see you.”
Dread overcomes Katsuki and he lashes out screaming in his head. He has to get out of here. Deku can’t find him. Rage, desperation, grief, and everything fill his head until there's almost no room for Katsuki at all.
Abruptly, a new feeling spreads throughout his frozen limbs and Katsuki startles. What the f*ck? A tingling that feels like fizzy soda bubbles popping against the inside of his skin starts in his fingers and begins working its way up his arms.
Shinsou reaches out and thumbs against the long blonde stubble covering Katsuki’s face, “Lookin’ a little rough, Bakugou. Where have you been hiding?” When Katsuki remains silent, Shinsou looks him in the eye and orders, “Answer me.”
“The Wastes,” Katsuki replies automatically before he can even attempt to stop himself. f*ck. f*ck. f*ck. No! Don’t answer him. This was a trap. He has to trick himself out of it. C’mon just a finger twitch. Anything!
Shinsou’s eyes widen, “You’ve been hiding in the Wastes this entire time?”
Katsuki thrashes when the feeling of the tingling spreads to his chest. It feels pleasant, but he knows that whatever it is can’t be good. “Yes,” he replies, his response sounding robotic to his own ears. This isn’t the Shinsou he knew…More grief crashes over him. This is what he gets for the small spark of hope in his chest.
Katsuki’s panic is beginning to subside, to be replaced with something warm. Heat is spreading hot on the heels of the tingling and the cold from his soaked clothes begins to fade.
“Are there any others with you?” Shinsou asks, still in that gentle, soothing tone. Katsuki sinks a little further as the warmth continues to envelop him and a sense of elation fills him. He briefly notes that the feeling doesn’t belong. It’s not his, but he can’t seem to care. This feels nice. He had forgotten what happiness feels like. How odd…
“Bakugou, I need you to focus on me. I know you’re feeling good, but I need you to be good for me and answer a few questions,” Shinsou says. Katsuki tries to ignore the excitement and warm feelings. He needs to answer Shinsou. He can be good.
“Are there others with you here or hiding in The Wastes?” Shinsou asks again.
“No others,” Katsuki tries to shrug a shoulder. Oh right…he can’t move.
Shinsou raises a brow at him. “You were alone? For how long?”
Katsuki tries to smile and fails, “Seven years,” he says tonelessly.
Shinsou frowns and Katsuki’s little bubble of happiness deflates a little. He runs his words on repeat in his head looking for his mistake.
“No. No. Bakugou, you’re doing so well,” Shinsou praises. “What were you doing out there all alone?”
“Surviving,” Katsuki replies. Shinsou seems disturbed by Katsuki’s response, but he keeps the grounding grip on Katsuki’s shoulder, keeping him from floating away.
“One last question, Bakugou,” Shinsou states firmly and his grip on Katsuki’s shoulder tightens infinitesimally. Katsuki is struggling not to drown in sensation of undiluted joy…and focus on Shinsou’s words. “Why the viridian?”
Oh, that’s easy. “So the feelings don’t kill me.” Katsuki says simply.
Katsuki’s vision and hearing abruptly sharpen and he resists the urge to sink into the bass of the music thumping in his bones. Everything is warm and light, making him smile and close his eyes just absorbing every sensation. He laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years.
When he reopens his eyes, Shinsou is smiling at him. Katsuki can’t stop the words from bursting from him, “I missed you. I thought you were gone.”
Shinsou looks stricken for a moment before the smile returns to his face. “Missed you too, firecracker. Someone else has missed you. Would you like to go see them?”
Katsuki is briefly distracted by the pretty lights dancing above them, before his focus is called back when Shinsou rubs his shoulder. The gentle stroke feels like heaven against his skin, even through the rough fabric of his sweatshirt, he looks down at himself absently. Hmmm…he should take it off. It’s hot in here.
“Bakugou,” Shinsou interrupts gently and Katsuki’s eyes swing to him. Have Shinsou’s eyes always been so pretty?
Shinsou laughs brightly. Did he say that out loud? “Yes Bakugou, you did.” Katsuki’s eyes widen and he claps a hand to his mouth. Shinsou only laughs harder and then reaches out and removes Katsuki’s hand from his mouth. He keeps a hold on his wrist though. “C’mon, there’s someone else who’s been waiting a long time to see you.”
Shinsou begins to pull him through the crowd. Bodies crush up against Katsuki and he just wants to absorb into them, join into the throng and feel the beat bounce in his soul. As they pass through the crowd. The air glitters around him and he reaches out when a beam of bright pink light passes by his head, trying to catch it and keep it. His fingers pass through the light and Katsuki retracts his hand giggling.
Shinsou finally pulls them out of the crowd and back toward the rear of the club. The shadows back here beckon and call to Katsuki with a dark promise of dancing along his skin. “Almost there, just a little further,” Shinsou says over his shoulder.
“Kay,” Katsuki says brightly and Shinsou snickers, causing Katsuki to laugh at his mirth.
“Oh, Bakugou, it’s hitting you hard, isn’t it?” Shinsou asks rhetorically.
“Yep,” Katsuki answers honestly as he’s suddenly stopped in front of a black door at the very back of the club. The pretty lights and glittery air are gone, and Katsuki feels a bereft for a brief moment, but then Shinsou distracts him by knocking on the door and gripping his wrist tighter. Katsuki looks down at their hands, enjoying the feel of skin on skin.
The door opens and a soft red light filters into the dark hallway that they’re standing in. An unfamiliar man stands at the door and opens it further. “Boss is gonna be happy to see you,” the man grunts and Katsuki puzzles briefly at his words before focusing on the room as a whole. Bathed in a warm red light, music plays softly wrapping Katsuki in a cocoon of sweet notes that pluck at his being and make him want to spin in circles. Soft looking couches and chairs are spread throughout. He aches to lay on one and brush his cheek along the velveteen material.
“Kachaan?” The deep voice pulls him from his musings. Only one person has ever called him that. Katsuki’s heart picks up to a staccato rhythm and his eyes are drawn to the huge figure approaching him. Green curls frame an angular jaw and tanned, freckled skin plucks at Katsuki’s memory. He’s bigger than Katsuki remembers…now towering over Katsuki, Izuku reminds him of All Might in his prime. A brief glimmer of sadness touches Katsuki, at the reminder of his old sensei, but the memory softens at the edges and good memories flood his vision. He smiles warmly at the man who approaches with deep green eyes that are looking at him with soft excitement.
“Is this real?” Katsuki wonders aloud. Shinsou snorts next to him.
The man steps right up to him and brushes a large scarred hand through his blond locks while the other cups his scruffy jaw. Katsuki leans into the touch and a deep sigh of contentment leaves his chest. A flash of warning jolts through him, tugging at him and trying to pull him from his content space, but Katsuki pushes it to the side.at the feel of skin stroking against his.
Shinsou releases his wrist. Katsuki briefly mourns the loss. He hasn’t been touched in years and all of the sensations against his skin are propelling his high to even greater heights.
“Baby, where have you been?” Izuku growls out.
“The Wastes,” Shinsou answers for him with a tone that Katsuki can’t identify. Katsuki is grateful because his tongue feels a little swollen in his mouth and it’s hard for him to focus on the questions. Izuku’s eyes narrow at him. “For how long?”
Katsuki nuzzles closer against the hands that are now stroking down his cheek and firm fingers run along the bumps of his spine against the back of his neck. “Since the final battle…” Shinsou says with a hint of awe in his voice.
Izuku’s eyes break from Katsuki’s, to glance sharply at Shinsou. His hands still against Katsuki’s skin which forces a light whimper to escape at the loss. Those hands resume their caresses, but Deku looks back to Katsuki before murmuring… “No one survives The Wastes that long.”
Shinsou shrugs, “He did. Alone.”
Izuku’s eyes scan Katsuki from head to toe. “Sugoi, Kachaan,” he rumbles and Katsuki feels the heat that springs to his cheeks. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, baby. I think it’s time for you to come home.”
“Deku,” Shinsou says hesitantly, catching both Katsuki and Izuku’s attention. Katsuki zeroes back in on the lavender irises. “He’s been on Viridian for years.” Katsuki co*cks his head to the side, unsure of what that matters. There’s something important nagging for his attention, but he tamps it down.
Izuku’s brow furrows. Katsuki wants to reach out and smooth out the wrinkles that appear. “Zuku,” he murmurs, wanting to share some of the happiness under his skin and ease whatever is making him frown. “Don’t be sad.”
Izuku hones in on him and pulls him into his arms. Large muscular arms wrap strongly around Katsuki’s smaller, thinner body. Katsuki didn’t realize how much he missed this. Without the negative weight sinking him into despair, he wonders…Why was he fighting in the first place? He can’t remember.
He tries to recall anything before this moment, but it floats away from him, dancing just on the edge outside his reach. Katsuki inhales deeply, relishing in the familiar smell of Izuku’s warmth and nuzzles into the soft material of Deku’s shirt. “He’s on Dazzle, isn’t he?” Deku murmurs, looking over Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki can’t be bothered to suss out why that statement flickers a warning in his mind. He wants to crawl inside his Izuku’s skin and live there.
“Yes,” Shinsou admits. “It was the only way to get him compliant once I pulled him out of my quirk. Deku, I could feel his mind. It’s deteriorated, barely even alive anymore. He literally runs on survival and numbs everything else. There’s so much pain and grief there, I don’t know what he’ll be like when he comes down.”
Something about this conversation triggers Katsuki out of his happy place, briefly yanking him back to reality. He suddenly feels exhausted, and he feels like there’s a great balloon inside him deflating and plummeting to the earth below. He pulls back a little to look up at Deku, “Zuku, are you gonna kill me?...I’m tired.”
Deku looks at him hard, before muttering, “It shouldn’t be wearing off this fast.” He cups Katsuki’s chin and leans down searching his eyes. “His eyes are still fully dilated.”
“I told you, he’s been on viridian for years. His tolerance is numbing out the effects of Dazzle. He feels too much, Deku. I’m not surprised that he’s already able to break past the effects,” Shinsou explains. His words leak past the little bubble Katsuki was marinating in and like a needle striking, it pops and Katsuki’s eyes widen as a flood of emotion swamps him all at once. He lashes out in Deku’s hold and his breath begins to increase. The room is spinning and he clutches hard, knuckles turning white and fingernails digging into Deku’s arms.
Deku turns from Katsuki and barks, “Leave us. Now.” Katsuki flinches and hears multiple sets of footsteps vacate the room, leaving him alone with Deku. Anger and sadness bombard Katsuki with images of everything that came before this moment and Katsuki can’t breathe with their intensity. He subconsciously pats his pocket searching for his pills, but finds it empty.
The softness of Izuku’s arms fades and clarity races through Katsuki as the thought strikes him like a hammer…He’s walked right into the villain’s clutches. He was happily led right to the source of his destruction. Katsuki jerks back out of Izuku’s hold and instantly aims his palm in the man’s face. He knows that a blast won’t kill Izuku, but it will buy him time to try and get away. All of his pain and memories are flooding back in and he’s reminded why he’s never bothered to try Dazzle. Instead of the numb, he’s feeling it all like it’s the first time again…
The pain in his chest forces tears to his eyes and he drops to his knees. f*ck. He can’t breathe. Images of all the deaths, of the destruction, ash and blue flames… His chest constricts and won’t release him, but still he keeps his palm aimed.
“Katsuki, let me help you,” Izuku says calmly, that deep commanding tone sticking to Katsuki’s ribs and weighing him down further. His memory dredges up the last time he heard a command like that…
“Kachaan, come with me,” Izuku commands.
Disgust and repulsion fills Katsuki, followed on the heels of despair.
“Izuku, don’t do this! You’re a f*cking hero!”
Izuku smirks at him over his shoulder, “Not anymore.”
Black spots begin to crowd into his vision and Katsuki drowns as waves of pain and anger crash over him. Explosions crackle in his palms, lighting up the dimly lit red room. He tries to send out a blast toward the very man he’d just been embraced by, but instead his palm sparks with a sudden pain so sharp he sucks in a sharp breath that causes the spots to clear from his vision. The pain grounds him and he looks into Izuku’s eyes, “How could you…” he growls, his voice cracking and gritty through stilted breaths. Izuku left him. Abandoned him. Killed their friends. Poisoned the city. Joined the very cause that ended everything they stood for.
Izuku crouches in front of him, and yanks his arm so they crash together. They wrestle and Katsuki struggles to get out of his reach, but he’s weak and shaky from lack of food and the comedown from the drugs. Izuku wraps around him and shoves his back to the floor and Katsuki’s head lands with a thump against the carpet while Izuku straddles his waist and pins his wrists above him.
“Katsuki, breathe dammit,” Deku yells. Katsuki attempts to pull in a breath, but it stutters in his lungs. The black is crowding back into his vision again and Katsuki can’t help but welcome the pull of unconsciousness. He doesn’t want to feel anymore. His head and chest feel like he’s been gored by one of his own blasts. He continues to struggle against Deku, he has to get out. He won’t survive this.
“Shinsou!” Deku screams and vaguely Katsuki registers a door slamming open and the rush of footsteps just as his eyelids begin to flutter uncontrollably and his eyes want to roll back in his head. He manages to wiggle an arm free of Deku’s hold while he’s distracted and lets a blast off in his face. A yell echoes in the air around them and a streak of vindicated satisfaction races through him briefly, before he’s forced to focus back on the pain radiating from his chest and the urge to black out. He hopes and prays for the blissful black of unconsciousness.
“Katsuki?” Suddenly a voice breaks through his struggle and he turns toward the voice that he hasn’t heard since the final battle. Flashes of red hair and a bright sharp smile…
Katsuki’s voice cracks, his voice brittle as he searches for the source, “Kirishi–”
“Sleep,” Shinsou’s voice orders and Katsuki falls limp as darkness overtakes him…finally.
