This is a experiment, tell me what you guys think. If y'all like it, I'll keep updating it. It's fairly experimental.
Chapter 1
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sound was driving Katsuki insane.
Figures that if they went through all of this trouble to get him, they could at least stuffed him in a decent fucking cell.
Drip. Drip Drip.
Or maybe not. Maybe this was Shigaraki's way of fucking with him. The bastard was probably right outside this room, waiting for him to crack. Katsuki refused him to give him that satisfaction.
He refused to break.
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.
Of course, they were expecting that.
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"Fuck you." He chokes out through the blood and spit on his lips. Katsuki strains against the ropes tying him down. With what felt like the last breath he had, he spits at her. "Fuck you, you stupid bitch. Fuck you fuck you fuck you-"
The blonde bitch -Toga- merely hums and twirls her knife deftly. It's different from the previous ones she used on him -it's tip curved upwards into a sharp, needle-like point. It's still clean.
"That's not very nice, Katsuki." She pauses, tilting her head to the side like a bird, assessing him. He knows that expression. She's looking for new spots on his body, a new place to dig in and unveil him. "Bad boy, you need to learn some manners."
She ultimately rests her knife against his inner thigh, tip digging through the fabric of his blood soaked pants.
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."
Then it starts all over again.
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They keep him in a windowless room. Four walls, a ceiling and a floor made of stone. Distantly, he thinks it's asphalt, but on the occasions there is some light in this fucking shithole he's too busy trying -failing- to not scream in agony he's not exactly in the mood to contemplate it.
When they're not working on him, as Shigaraki puts it, they keep him bound, gagged and blind. He can barely fucking blink, strapped down like a pig on either a wall, a chair or a table. It all depends on what mood his captors are, really.
One thing that always stays the same is the metal box around his hands -chains that left no doubt as from where they were inspired from.
It's hysterical, he thinks at one point as Toga drags her knife down his left leg and he buckles and grunts at the now familiar pain. Hilarious, really, that the Yuuei teachers had such specialized restraints on hand at such a short notice.
They really thought ahead.
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By the tenth visit, he's too tired to scream.
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.
He loses track after the fifteenth time.
It all just blurs together into one giant mess of sensations -the metal binds digging into his skin, the darkness closing in on all sides, the sharp burn of knives gliding over his flesh, her fucking laugh-
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Sometimes, Shigaraki visits.
Katsuki hates those moments far more than he hates Toga's little parties.
The light-haired man just acts so fucking casual about all of this.
Like Katsuki isn't covered in his own blood half the time, like he wasn't chained like a dog, strapped to the wall or a chair depending on Toga's whims.
And the way the bastard keeps fucking touching him-
Even thinking about it sends a shiver of something down his spine. It's a bitter mixture built up overtime -anger, helplessness and anxious fury the villains forced him to bottle with their chains and ropes and the darkness. He can't sleep, not here. Not when Toga could emerge from the dark at any given moment.
He lost track of the last time he'd fallen asleep instead of passing out.
He wants to pass out. Right now. Anything to block out the sensation of a hand gliding through his sweaty locks. Shigaraki is far from careful -more than once he feels him decay parts of his hair, making it uneven and choppy.
In those moments of self-awareness, Katsuki is grateful for the perpetual semi-darkness of his cell. At least this way, he can't see what they were doing to him.
(It doesn't stop him from feeling it.)
"Sensei is adamant that I hand you over to ." Shigaraki muttered into his hair, way too fucking close and if he wasn't strapped down to the point he could only blink, so exhausted god he just wanted to curl up and die- "But you're worth more than a Nomu, aren't you, Bakugo?"
He feels the man shift against him, leaning away.
Katsuki refuses to embrace that feeling of relief at the lack of contact with the villain. He always hated false hope; this is no different.
Moments later, he's proven right as Shigaraki seemingly leans over him, keeping him pinned to the chair. He can feel the man's breath on his face, slow and smelling of dust and blood.
That's all he can smell.
"Look at me."
No-
His eyelids flutter open. What a pathetic, traitorous body he had, answering his captor's command like a whipped dog.
(Unlike Katsuki, it understood the first few times what that edging the man responsible for his kidnapping on brought.)
"There you are." Shigaraki taps the tip of his nose like one would to a child.
There's a smile on his chapped lips -a ugly, pensive smile that makes Katsuki's blood curdle with something unpleasant. It's content too, in line with his friendly behavior that made Katsuki want to scream because they are not friends, fuck no, if -when, fucking when- he escapes he was going to kill him
He growls, low and wet through the blood in his mouth. It's less of a snarl and more of a choked sound -what a rabid animal makes when it's caught in a bear trap and fighting with the last of its strength.
"So much bite." The villain mutters in a self-satisfied way that makes Katsuki want to rip his own hair out. "You're going to make a wonderful addition to my vanguard."
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It's during one of his sessions with Toga that he snarls out the words that spell his unravelling.
"They'll come for me."
Silence. Then Toga has the balls to sigh.
It's not a tired sigh, nor exasperated -it's softer, crueler in that way, the sound a mother would make upon having to repeat something to her child. It's ugly to Katsuki's ears, grating his skin in a way that hurt far more than the cuts and burns littering his body.
But then she smiles, and if he didn't like her sigh before, this was even worse. Because this expression -it's predatory.
"How long do you think you've been here, with us?" She leans closer, sprawling herself like a feline against his shoulder and resting a cheek against the top of his head. Bound and tired, Katsuki can't push her away. He's a limp toy under her hands, pliant and almost broken. His wrists ache from struggling against the metal box around his hands, keeping him from blowing up his tormentor. "With me?"
Katsuki doesn't respond. He has no idea why he's not at least trying to push her off.
(Liar.)
How long had it been? Days? Weeks?
Years?
He lets that word hang in his head. It's cold and frigid and spreading through his mind like a parasite -and then it's becomes too warm and wet, wrapping around him, suffocating. No. It can't be. I keep track, there's no way it's been-
But maybe it was, a tiny traitorous voice murmurs in his ears.
And it was right. He was a liar. He had lost track; had drifted away in between the pain and the dark and the chains until his world narrowed to those three things.
Sensing his weakness, the blonde bitch keeps on.
"Why do you think you're not home yet?" She says sweetly and she runs her hand over his chest, collecting the fruits of her work. Her fingers are caked in red. "Why do you think All Might hasn't saved you yet?"
Katsuki has several retorts to her words. Because he's a fucking human being, he wants to say. He's not all knowing. But he's searching. Yuuei -no, the pro-heroes, they couldn't just call off the search and let him rot away in a dark cell. They were looking for him. Had to.
That's what the logical part of his mind told Katsuki. What he would say if he still knew which way was up.
Because what he felt was much different. Because All Might should have found him by now. He had to be looking for him, had to be involved with the investigation. He was his teacher, the Number One Hero. He had to be looking for stupid, pathetic, weak Katsuki-
But the fact that he hadn't been found, not yet…
(The thought sits like bad food in his stomach. Rotten and poisonous, spreading to every limb in his body.)
And like the ugly witch she was, Toga picked up on this too.
"You're realizing it, right?"
With what little wiggle room he has left, Katsuki tilts his head away from her. The villain chuckles.
"Oh, Katsukii~" She whispers into his ear, soft and cooing and burning, more so than the cuts she'd made on his body. "... no one cares about you."
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Later, when he's alone and broken and tired, curled up in a puddle of his own sweat, blood and tears, trapped in a small cell with walls that seemed to be closing in, he can't help but think about what his tormentor told him. He wishes, he wishes he could do anything else, but there was nothing to hold on to but her twisted words.
Because the longer he sat here in the dark, the more he couldn't deny the truth she'd carved into his flesh.
No one was coming for him.
No one cared about him.
Well, that was depressing.
It gets better I swear.