IN THE DARKNESS OF THE NIGHT THERE ARE FOOTSTEPS. Barely heard, the figure is not illuminated — he cannot find it within himself to care for strays that follow him, to be bothered by the movements of shadows & the darkness in his own head nor that of the other’s hair as he turned, purple orbs casting their disapproving stare on the other, hood pulled up to hide sunshine blond hair as he moved, no gloves on his hands nor bracelets on his wrists, hands held out in front of him as if to call for the other to leave, to desist.
His hands trembled, violent, but that was normal by now — even when promised so much for the use of his quirk, those memories did not disappear from his subconscious, that fear of his own hands touching a living being was terror enough to haunt his soul. Dreams of being reunited with loved ones had long since faded into nightmares, & those into almost-memories of killing everyone he loved, one-by-one, as they cried out for him to stop.
( don’t hurt us, they’d call in his dreams. please stop. you’re a monster, you’re a monster - didn’t you want to be kind? & he’d always reply with i’m sorry i’m so sorry i didn’t want to do this but they knew he did, they also knew, & they’d say so. you’re just a monster, hurting people is in your nature - it’s all you’ve ever done. sometimes, it was katsuki or izuku or his aunt & uncle. most days he saw mikumo’s expression, saw betrayal in eyes that didn’t ever care, & he woke up screaming as if he’d actually killed his best friend. )
❝You shouldn’t be here, Miku-kun.❞ There was a sadness in that voice, every word laced with melancholy, as if he’d never felt anything but drowning in his own tears — but was that not what Katsue was made for? Was he not made to shed his own blood for others? Was he not made to try so desperately to make things right? He was willing to do anything to have his parents back — even though it meant killing, listening to people’s sobbed last words & strangled pleas for mercy as he gazed upon them with cold eyes, dead eyes, eyes that had seen a lifetime of guilt & sadness & fingers that just wanted to claw the memories from them as they burned beneath his skin.
❝It’s dangerous to go after villains on your own, isn’t it?❞ Maybe he’d be a threat if he could stop shaking, if he could take a step forward & actually use his quirk, dispose of the witness like he was supposed to but then the nightmares flashed beneath his eyelids as he blinked and he wanted to cry, to claw out his own skin, to use his own quirk on himself if it would just end this life of bad decisions & misery that he’d been cursed to lead since birth all because of a quirk that could end a life with merely a touch.
❝You should go… Don’t tell anyone what you saw tonight, I don’t want you to be next on the pile of bodies.❞ It was an empty threat because he wasn’t sure if he could hurt Mikumo even if he wanted to, even if he had to, because what was the other if not someone he cared for? He couldn’t kill another person he needed in his life, not after his parents, not after-
( please don’t make me hurt you, he wants to whisper. please don’t make me have to kill you, i don’t want to be the one that ends your life. don’t make me make that choice. )
here you are, standing in front of your so-called friend. you two weren’t really friends, anyway, so you shouldn’t don’t care as much as you did. your heart stayed at a normal pace shattered when you saw what was happening. your brows furrows as you looked at the other for a long while.
you began to have second thoughts about life. this wasn’t the first time you thought about becoming a villain. you look calm because you are you pretended to be. you don’t have a bad gut feeling about this.
what do you do next ? well, you take out your hand. you’re going to fool the other by pretending you want to be a villain, it fit your whole personality. a gruesome smile on your face as you just had to be yourself act being crazy. your face was only a face that only a mother’s could love your smile was so big & crazy.
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