Izuku Midoriya
The scent of smoke suffused the air. The mighty tramp of footsteps and heartbeats burst through Midoriya's ears. Everything was a distorted haze of reality that Midoriya ran through.
Kacchan, why won't you tell me what's going on?! Midoriya's frenetic thoughts pulsed through his head. Did something happen to Shouto? I feel like I'm going to faint. I'm so scared. I'm so shaky. Calm down, calm down… He nearly careened into the ashes of Todoroki's charred, flame-bitten door. No… No, no, no. What's going on? Where's Shouto?! Even Kacchan isn't here!
Gasping in visceral fear and utter exhaustion, Midoriya staggered into Todoroki's dorm to find a notebook that had seemingly been tossed onto the floor. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths before picking up the notebook and reading its contents:
I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for existing. I'm sorry for my mistakes. I'm sorry I had to have burdened any of you at all. I've hit my breaking point. I can't do this. I'm so sorry. But things are better off this way. Izuku, this is what I meant when I said I was leaving. I made my plans, but I needed to know that you would be okay without me. I love you, Izuku, but you deserve someone better. I never deserved you. I always lied to you. I couldn't tell you the truth. I tried. I couldn't get the words out, and then, I realized what you were going through, and I didn't want to burden you. It was suffocating. But I'll tell you the truth here. I still feel guilty about it. I don't want to. I'm shaking. For years, I've wanted to die. I tried to die a few years ago, but I ended up surviving. It filled me with so much shame. I started cutting three years ago. I don't cut very often, but when I do, it never ends well. I cut too much and too deep. I can't control myself. I'm sorry you had to find out about this the way you did, Bakugou. I still think about it, and I still feel guilty. When I don't feel empty and numb, I feel terrible, guilty, and self-destructive. Those are the times when I cut myself. It hurt a lot to see your own scars, Izuku. I wanted to help you in any way that I could. But you're all better off without me. I'm not going to fail this time. I'm so fucking sorry for all the damages I've left, but I hope that this makes you all happier. I want to call you, Izuku, but I can't do it. I can't bear to hear your voice or imagine your reaction. I'm going to call Bakugou. A selfish, selfish part of me is still afraid to die and afraid to fail again. I'm hoping that I give you just enough time to potentially stop me. It was my choice to hide how I really felt and thought, but a selfish part of me hurts so much to know that you all believed me. Was 'I' invisible to you? The pain that you can't see…is killing me. It always has been. I never showed it. A selfish part of me wanted someone to understand me. I started letting down my guard, and I said I was sick, but no medicine can cure this. It feels like…if anyone truly did care about me, they would have noticed. But that's not true. I know it's not, but my mind is telling me that the kindness I'm given is just a lie to hide how much I'm hated by everyone. I don't even know what's realistic to think anymore. Is it more realistic to think everyone is putting on a face to hide their hatred for me, or is it more realistic to think that's unrealistic? I don't know. I thought I knew, but I don't anymore. I'm going to call Bakugou now, but if enough time passes, I'm jumping from U.A. I've already taken precautionary measures, though, so it might not even be the fall that kills me. I'll disappear now. But, then again, I guess 'I' never really existed, did I?
With frantic, jittering digits, Midoriya turned over the paper to find a poem:
Ghost
I met a ghost
The other day.
He asked if I
Could help him.
Although it was odd,
I must say,
I still agreed
On a whim.
He asked if he
Could become me.
Really, he wanted
To see my misery.
Two states of mind
Combined into one.
The battle ended
Before it had begun.
Lies possessed by
Truths untold.
An empty vessel filled
With one desire.
Let the story of
The ghost unfold.
Tell it through the
Lips of a liar.
I'll tell you now
That it's too late.
With life and death,
You cannot wait.
The suffering ghost wept,
Seen not by the rest.
He lives within me again
As a parasitic guest.
Hey, nice to meet you,
Mr. Ghost.
It's relieving to no longer
Be in control.
I was dying to meet him and
Have us a toast.
We walk together, sharing
But the same soul.
Filled again with a desire
To be fulfilled.
The human in me is
What we've killed.
Hey, Mr. Ghost, are you
Happy again?
"When your fake happiness is
Gone, that'll be when."
Without a second thought to restrain him, Midoriya bolted for the rooftop. Never had he sprinted with such unfettered conviction. His lungs burned, his eyes stung with the tears flooding down his cheeks, and his muscles were cramping, but he had only one objective: save Todoroki.
Slamming through the door separating him from the U.A. rooftop, Midoriya barreled into the frigid night. He gasped feverishly as lightheadedness razed the city that was his mind, and with his hands on his knees, he looked up to the grim glow of the future ahead of him.
Through the smog of the night, Midoriya could make out one figure that was crouched on the floor. That figure soon rose up to its feet, and with shoulders that visibly rose and fell, it gradually lifted its head.