Hello everyone, and welcome to a new story.

This will be a little darker of a story, with a few trigger warnings up ahead. Mostly referencing suicide and whatnot, so if that bothers you, I wouldn't recommend reading this because Izuku's jump is pretty much the center of the story and forms the events ahead.

Enjoy!

...

Bakugo

"Just pray that you'll be born with a Quirk in your next life," Bakugo called over his shoulder, laughing. Deku was such a weakling... It would be much easier without the little dork. His buddies chuckled, as they always did when Bakugo intended to make a joke. It was infuriating sometimes, them being brown-nosers and all. But at least they weren't Quirkless bastards trying to outdo a worthy UA student.

"Go take a swan dive over the roof of the building."

The words were out of his mouth before he could even comprehend them. His gang laughed a little, but it seemed more forced than before. Katsuki didn't think anything of it until he looked behind him, seeing Deku tense up, fingers curling into fists and turning a pale yellow, almost white with pressure before reddening.

Bakugo tried not to betray his slight uneasiness, making a few explosions with his hands and forcing a sardonic look on his face.

"Something wrong?" he snarled, staring directly at the little nerd. The green-haired twerp's eyes were locked on the ground, his shoulders shaking.

He was crying.

"Want to go home to your mommy?" Bakugo burst out as Deku's tears hit the floor. "Or do you want to talk to the counselor beforehand?"

"No."

Midoriya spoke for the first time, his head trembling a little as he lifted his face to stare at Bakugo.

"What was that, you little baby? You finally growing some balls?" His friends began to laugh a little again, patting Katsuki on the back while chuckling.

He pushed them away, still facing Midoriya. Something had changed in his face, a look of determination, as if he had won a tough battle with a villain. Was he about to make one of those pointless rants about becoming a hero again? Those always drove him nuts.

"It's done, Kacchan," Deku said, voice wavering. He cleared his throat, swallowing. "I'm done. Done with everything. Done with you. Done with..." He paused. "Done with life. It's pointless. I can't become a hero. I have no purpose." He slumped over, looking defeated.

Bakugo's blood froze, his back stiffening. No, no, no... This couldn't happen. Not like this. His buddies also stiffened, their laughs dying away immediately.

Deku calmly picked up his backpack, crumpling up the journal that Bakugo had singed only moments ago. He tossed it into the trash, gripping the straps of his bag.

Slowly, slowly, Midoriya opened up the window. Their classroom was on one of the top levels. If he jumped, he'd never make it. Bakugo felt as if his world was going in slow motion. He lunged forward, stumbling blindly as he tried to make it to the window in time. Deku was already adjusted, his hands crossed over his chest.

"Don't try to stop me, Bakugo. Be the hero you always wanted to be."

Then he let himself go.

"DEKU, YOU BASTARD!" Bakugo bellowed, his voice echoing around the campus.

Thump.

Bakugo could hear Deku hit the ground from stories up the building. Bakugo turned, racing down the steps as he tried desperately to make it to the ground in time. His cohorts followed him, yelling as they tumbled down the stairs after him.

As Bakugo reached the bottom of the stairs, he rocketed out of the doors, stumbling beside Deku. His face was blank but almost peaceful. He shook Deku, rocking his body back and forth wildly, but he just limply moved from side to side.

"YOU BASTARD!" he repeated, guilt flooding through him. He'd done this. He's caused this. He was the reason why Izuku was dead.

He punched the ground, putting in indentation next to Midoriya's body.

"Deku."

Bakugo slumped, hands in fists next to Izuku's stomach, muttering under his breath. What had he done?

His buddies rushed to his side, crouched on the ground to his left and right. Bakugo ignored them, tensing up.

"What happens now?"

The words were out of Bakugo's mouth before he'd even thought about them. Katsuki wasn't one to ask others for help, or even for advice, but he guessed that in this case, he should.

Tsubasa, the kid on his left that had been his friend, or at least, as close to a friend as Bakugo would let him be, shook his head.

"I dunno, man. You didn't kill him, but you sure encouraged him to kill himself. Personally, I wouldn't tell anyone. Just make it look like an accident on his part."

Bakugo turned, staring right at him before dropping his eyes. Tsubasa was probably right. He couldn't possibly tell anyone about this; he'd get kicked out of school and get sent to a delinquent center, let alone getting accepted into UA.

Bakugo stood up, taking one last glance at Izuku's broken body. "Then let's get outta here," he huffed, painfully aware of the open space that they were in. He dashed away, his group following. Bakugo didn't look back.

. . .

Katsuki lay awake, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling, unblinking. His mouth was open slightly, the breeze flowing through the half-opened window beside his bed drying out his tongue. He closed his mouth, swallowing, as he came out of his own thoughts.

Midoriya was dead. He would first be thought to have gone missing. Then someone would find his body, laying behind the junior high, cold and stiff. There would be an investigation, which Bakugo would do everything to avoid. Then the funeral. His stomach clenched. The nerd he had grown up with. The Quirkless outsider that desperately wanted to become a hero. Gone, just like that.

He didn't know why he felt so regretful and guilty. He'd been joking when he told Deku to jump. It had been his own choice. Bakugo guessed that, maybe, he'd been thinking about it for a while now.

God, but he just felt so weighed down with his knowledge.

He turned over in his bed, now facing the window with his arm under one pillow, getting lost in thought again. He kept telling himself over and over that he had to forget about it, had to push his past behind him. But the drive to become a hero had diminished in him, that blazing fire getting muffled by the damp feelings tumbling in his head.

He tossed and turned for a couple more hours, sleep fading in and out. He always woke up sweating, his T-shirt soaked. He eventually fell into a restless sleep, waking even more tired and drained than last night. He stumbled to the kitchen, grabbing a random box of cereal and pouring it, falling asleep in his hands with corn flakes dripping from his mouth.