#AFTERMATH OF SUIC1D3!!!!!!!!!!!

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 28 - "No... not like this"

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 751

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The halls are empty as Katsuki sprints through them, almost eating shit around the last corner trying to shortcut it. 

The classroom door is shut, which means Aizawa is already inside and probably already lecturing. 

He pauses in front of the door, taking a breath. 

He’s in the final month of his final year at UA and he slept through his alarm. He didn’t even know he could do that. 

Only a handful of days has he not made it to class, and for most of them, he was either kidnapped or in the hospital. Plus the few months when there was no school during the war, but that doesn’t matter. 

Steeling himself, he slides the door open, lowering his head in apology. 

The room is silent, which is unacceptable, so he starts rambling like a loser. 

“Sorry, won’t happen again.”

“Get out.” A loud, stern voice booms at him. 

His head shoots up, nostrils flaring in anger and surprise, “What-!”

Voice catching in his throat, he stops cold. His classmates were nowhere to be found, only a handful of police officers and several of the pro-hero teachers. 

Aizawa seems to be the one who spoke, quirk activated and hair levitating partially off his shoulder. His capture weapon is drawn in one hand as he stomps forward aggressively, crowding Katsuki back against the door. ”How did you-?“ He growls, shaking his head, “You need to leave.”

“Eh?!” Katsuki pushes forward, skirting around his teacher, “We’re supposed to have class. What the hell is going on?”

The police officers are all looking at him, some with their hands resting on their weapons. 

“Young Bakugo-“ All Might calls, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. His sunken eyes are noticeably red and puffy, and he has a crumpled tissue clutched at his chest. 

“That’s Bakugo?” One of the officers mutters, stepping forward. 

Midnight glares at the man, “You know there’s nothing you can do. Do not engage.” She spits. 

“But-“ Another one pipes up, quickly shut down like the other. 

”Bakugo, you need to leave. Your classmates are at Ground Beta.” Aizawa repeats, pressing a solid hand on his shoulder. Not asking, but commanding. 

Katsuki flinches back, so thrown off and confused beyond belief. 

Why do they have the fucking cops here? It’s a school full of pros…

His eyes dart around and catch on a strange sheet-covered lump in one of the chairs. 

“What’s that?” He asks aloud, stepping unconsciously toward it. 

It looks like a person is sitting under it, head slumped to the side. 

He counts the chairs. 

Third from the back, right behind his own chair. 

That’s… 

“Is that-?” He jerks his shoulder out of Aizawa’s grip, ignoring the capture weapon that wraps around his waist and tugs. 

He shoots his quirk at it, ignoring the burning feeling on his own torso, and stumbles forward. 

Pushing the last desk in his way, he grabs the edge of the strange plastic material and pulls. 

The figure in the desk slumps over as well, Katsuki catching it at the last second and pushing it back upright. 

Green curls spring into their normal form when the fabric is removed. 

Deku’s dumbass tie is sticking to the side at a weird angle. His white shirt is stained red with blood. 

Katsuki physically recoils, acid gathering in his throat as he makes a horrible gasping noise and wretches to his side. 

“Fuck- get him out of here,” Aizawa calls, letting Mic grab him bodily and drag him to the other side of the room away from his friend. 

“Come on, Listener.” He says softly, voice thick. 

“No- NO!” Katsuki shouts, scrabbling against the hero. He manages to knee the guy in the gut hard enough to escape. 

Izuku’s glassy eyes are staring blankly towards the desk. A dull glint of silver metal tells Katsuki all he needs to know. 

“He- he fuckin… No, he wouldn’t!” He cries, reaching out for Izuku’s face. 

In his peripheral, he sees a purple mist seep into the air. 

“Not like this, Izuku, not like this!” He lets the exhaustion take control of his body and falls forward, burying his face into Deku’s chest. 

There’s a distressed noise from the other side of the room, which is quickly shushed. 

As he drifts off, he hears Aizawa speak. 

“He won’t have another opportunity. Leave him.”

Katsuki sobs into Izuku’s shirt, mumbling whispered pleas and apologies as he lets sleep take him over. 

And when he wakes up, Izuku will be gone forever.