The number one pro hero unlocked the door to his apartment on a cold and still night. Even close to the center of the city, no sound emanated from anywhere. No cars on the road, no sirens in the distance, not even the scurrying of rats. Just the jingling of keys as Izuku put them back into his pocket, and the creaking of the door when he opened it and stepped inside.

He was dressed in casual clothes, various apparel based on his colleagues' costumes, and his signature red shoes. Though this time, it wasn't just his shoes that were red. The dried blood that covered him retained its scarlet color. His shirt, his pants, and even his face, were stained with the foul stench. There may have been some in his hair, but he was too numb to feel anything. He was too numb to do anything except stand at the foot of his apartment he shared with the love of his life. She was back at the scene which meant he was all alone. Alone with his thoughts that were nothing more than a jumbled mess. Alone with the worst feeling in his entire life: guilt.

He couldn't save them.

He couldn't protect them.

He couldn't prevent what happened to them.

It wasn't his fault.

He knew it wasn't his fault. He knew this. Not just because it was repeated ad nauseum by everyone at the scene, but because it was common sense. There was no warning, no clues to follow, no leads to obtain. This was a spur of the moment attack that left an entire city block in ruin.

Who could predict that?

They called it "frenzy". A quirk that caused everyone within a radius to lose control and start attacking anything that moved. Himself included.

It was over in one swing. One single punch at 100% power and in the blink of an eye his life was changed forever. The only saving grace is that the wielder was also caught within the crossfire. Ending the quirk's effect immediately. What were the odds that on this night the number one hero in the country would be out taking a midnight jog at this exact moment? Pretty good apparently. When he came to his senses he thought he was having a nightmare. Rubble strewn all over, and the screams of civilians who narrowly avoided the attack permeated through the night. When he heard the sirens, he realized this wasn't just a nightmare, it was real. It was real and he had actually done it, and the next thing he knew he was on all fours emptying the contents of his stomach.

Then the heroes arrived. Most he knew, some that were fresh faces. He felt sorry for all of them. They checked to see if the villain was still at large.

He wasn't.

They checked to see if there were any survivors.

There wasn't.

Except him. Except he wasn't a survivor. He was the reason there were none left.

Todoroki was the first to recognize him, observant as always. Once he had figured out what happened, he had already whisked Izuku off towards an ambulance. Not only to make sure he was uninjured, but so he didn't have to look at what he'd done any longer. He'd have to thank him for it later. He was silent, but that was normal for him. It was when he finally spoke that Izuku wanted to scream.

It's not your fault.

He knew that. He knew that and it didn't fucking matter. He still got caught off guard. He still swung with all his might that ended god knows how many lives. Lives that could never come back. All because of him. But he didn't say a word. He sat there in that ambulance, caked in the blood of the poor soul who was closest to him before it happened. He wanted to cry, but oddly enough the tears never came. He looked next to him to see if Todoroki was still there, but he was already gone, presumably to secure the area.

When Bakugo walked up to him he didn't even notice. He didn't even notice when Bakugo smacked him over the head. It was only when he was grabbed by his shirt and forced to look at him, that he saw Bakugo and even then, he didn't recognize him. Because on his face was something he'd never seen before, sympathy. No anger, no vitriol, not one ounce of rage directed at him. It made him want to puke again. Thankfully he was spared from the four words he didn't want to hear this time, not from anyone, but especially not from him. Instead Bakugo just let him go. Then, in the gentlest way possible, placed a hand on his back. It felt warm and kind. Two words he never expected to use when describing Bakugo. After a brief pause, the hand was gone and so was Bakugo.

Then Ochako showed up and the urge to run away was so tempting, if not for the fact he wasn't sure where else to go. She was just as speechless as Bakugo and Todoroki were, but her eyes told him everything. Pity, anguish, and tenderness all rolled into one beautiful stare that he was planning to marry in only a couple months' time. Though, he couldn't even comprehend tomorrow, let alone two months from now. It may as well have been 20 years for all he cared.

She hugged him immediately and he miraculously managed to hug her back. He didn't even care if her costume was going to be stained with blood. He just needed her. He needed her warmth, her embrace. He needed to feel something. Yet almost as quickly as the hug came, it ended. She needed to get back to the scene. Her quirk was invaluable to rescue any survivors that may have been trapped. She still had a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up at her once more. He saw her mouth move and he was afraid that he was going to hear those four words again. His stomach churned and the urge to scream welled up once more, but instead he heard only two.

Go home

He must have looked confused, since she repeated it again. She wanted him to clean himself up and rest. He could deal with the night's events tomorrow, but currently, he was ready for it. For the first time in his life, the number one hero was not needed.

Now here he was. Still standing in front of the door. Tears finally streaming down his face. Mixing in with the dried blood and leaving a taste in his mouth he'd never forget. Not a single word spoken, even after multiple people had tried to comfort him on his way back. His phone had a plethora of notifications that he wasn't sure he would ever read, much less respond to. There wasn't much he was sure of the moment. The only thought in his mind was four words that he knew he would learn to hate. Words that lost all meaning after tonight. Just like his supposed title of hero.

It wasn't his fault.

But it still felt like it.