Voices in Your Head

It's been a week since Izuku Midoriya disappeared. Bakugou first thought that he was sick or just skipping class to avoid him, but when the local news put out a "Missing Person" alert, it was downhill from there. He was missing.

Good riddance, right? Fucking Deku was gone and Bakugou should feel better now since the competition to get into UA was over. But it was the complete opposite. He felt horrible. Terrible. Like it was his fault.

Well, it kinda was his fault.

He caught himself staring at his empty desk again for the fifth time this morning. Too many times, he told himself. His teacher was watching the explosive student, but chose not to pick on him, for fear of coming under his wrath. His group of friends avoided him for that week that missing person alert was out. He passed his mom's apartment every day, once in the morning and once at night, but never had the courage to talk to her about him.

Courage. What a word with a strong meaning. He couldn't gather the strength to tell Deku's mom that he was probably the reason he committed suicide. To tell her he was the reason of years of bullying and relentless abuse. He's the reason he gave up so long ago.

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He passed Deku's apartment again. It's become a routine. Bakugou made it home and beelined straight to his room, not even saying a quick "I'm home". The door slammed and he launched himself on his bed, carelessly tossing his backpack to the floor. He buried his face in his pillow, and uncharacteristically yelled into it. He needed to blow off the emotions following the whole incident. He figured that he would go to the park and let loose.

He changed quickly to a black tank top and basketball shorts, slipping on his sneakers. He went downstairs quickly, taking two steps at a time. His mother called out for him, but he ignored her and went outside.

Once outside, he realized the world continues moving on. With or without Deku. With or without a quirkless kid. The world could care less. He could care less. Really, he could. Jogging to the park, Bakugou was trying to listen to the outside world. His thoughts wouldn't allow him. What the fuck was wrong with him?

He stopped near the park to an alleyway. The same alleyway where the pub is and where Deku tried to take his own life. But he didn't know that. He walked inside the darkness. He saw a turned over trashcan, still half full, and the broken pipes. He figured it was a fight that broke out.

He froze. The blade on the floor, stained red, looked too familiar. It was from the one of the local marts near his home. Only him and Deku knew that the mart sold knives and blades. Deku…

"What's wrong, Kacchan? Scared I might still be alive?" Bakugou tensed up. Whoever was there sounded exactly like Midoriya. But, Deku wasn't here, was he?

Bakugou frantically looked around, and up the building, but couldn't find the source of the voice. He exhaled, not knowing he was holding his breath. His mind was racing, and his heart was going to escape his chest. Why was he so scared? The voice wasn't Deku.

"You look so defenseless, Kacchan. I wonder if you realize that you drove me to this point. I'm different because of you, Kacchan, so be proud!" The voice laughed. "I think you know this is all because of you."

Bakugou fell to his knees, scraping his skin red and raw. He clutched his ears and screamed, not knowing if the disembodied voice of Deku was real or fake. He still heard his laughing in his head, and he figured it was himself. He was making the voice come to life. His mind was playing tricks on him, and he was the sole victim. No one outside heard his internal warfare in the alleyway.

Bakugou figured he needed to go back home. And quick. The UA entrance exam was coming close and he needed to be in the right mindset in order to make it in. Brushing off his knees, he gets up and does one quick sweep of his surroundings and starts to jog back home, ignoring the nagging in his brain that was telling him something was wrong.

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Inko Midoriya was a different person. When she learned that her husband left her and their son, she was distraught. But she never showed that side of her to anyone, especially not to Izuku. When they went to the doctor to figure out about Izuku's quirk, she apologized to her son about not having one. She knew it wasn't her fault or his father's, but she didn't know what else to say to help him.

She noticed him starting to close up and isolate. When the other kids started developing quirks and making their powers their own. She noticed particularly how he behaved with Katsuki Bakugou. She knew his mother, and they talked regularly, so she knew all about his powerful explosions quirk.

What she didn't understand was when Izuku would come back home later than usual with scars and bruises and open wounds all over his body. How his clothes were burned. How the tips of his green hair were uneven and singed from fire. How he came home almost everyday smelling like a firefighter.

Why would her little Izuku pick fights? Or was it Katsuki? She would talk for hours with Mitsuki; asking about her son and how's school treating him and how their family life is. Neither mother mentioned the bruises and scars and how emotionally distraught the other kid is. It wasn't her place was what she figured.

That night when Izuku went out, with the bandages wrapped on his arms under his favorite hoodie, she figured she wouldn't pressure her son for answers. When he didn't return that night she got nervous. She cleaned the bathroom quietly, noticing the blood stains on the sink from not being cleaned in the moment, and the roll of bandages and gauze almost gone.

She noticed that he didn't come home over night when she was asleep. His school uniform was still laying on his desk, his shoes still by the door. She waited. She missed work. She waited more. She wanted her son back home.

She continued to wait. By the middle of the week, she was full on panic mode. She called the police to start a search. She told Mitsuki after the first whole day that he was missing. Mitsuki has called her every day since then.

A week has passed. She is alone. Her husband is gone. And now, her son is too.