Kacchan. Have to save Kacchan.
He forced himself forward, forced himself towards the wreathing mess of slime and sludge. Bakugou was disappearing into the slime further; he could only see one arm. Midoriya sucked in a panicked breath and reached out and grabbed him. "Kacchan!"
He pulled.
Midoriya grit his teeth and dug his feet into the dirt, and pulled and pulled and pulled. Whether the monster wreathing and shrieking helped him or made things worse, Midoriya knew not. All he was aware of was Bakugou and how slippery his arm was and oh, shit, what if he accidentally slipped? Or dropped him? Or—
Bakugou came free with an almost humorous 'pop', and the two collapsed into the dirt. Midoriya wheezed, blinking up at the shadowy stalagmites overhead. He did it. He freed Bakugou. A grin slashed across his features, and Midoriya's head flopped back with a sigh. Wow, he was so tired…
"Hey! Wake up!"
He blinked his eyes open—when had they fallen closed? Bakugou loomed over him, slime dripping down his face and neck, plastered in his hair. His pallor was pale, ghastly, but that fire blazed in his eyes. "You have to wake up!" he growled. Midoriya's brows furrowed. What?
"Wake up, you have to wake up!" His voice was strange, garbled, not Bakugou's. Everything started to fade, shadows creeping in from nowhere. There was a grip on his shoulders, but Midoriya didn't have the strength to tilt his head to look. "Hey! Wake up! Wake up, sir, wake up!
"Wake up!"
Midoriya jolted awake with a gasp. A familiar, stern gaze, shielded by a pair of wire-frame glasses peered down at him. His mind was sluggish, though, as though his thoughts were caught in a bog. A throbbing pain from his temples drew his focus, and Midoriya grimaced, a groan dragging from his throat. Everything was bright, too bright. It assaulted his eyes, stabbing at his already throbbing temples. Ugh. He screwed his eyes shut. Yeah, closing his eyes was good.
"Sir, I need you to stay awake."
There was a squeeze on his shoulders— Midoriya grunted, eyes flickering back open. That rigid frown appeared again. This time, Midoriya could make out the furrow of his brows and the concerned gleam in his eye. "Sir, are you hurt?"
Hurt? Why would he be hurt? Midoriya shifted, trying to get his leaden muscles to work, trying to sit up. He wiggled his toes and his fingers. The effort left him wanting to collapse back against the cobblestone, but no aches he could feel. Aside from the pounding in his head, Midoriya felt fine. Just. Tired. And confused.
Where...was he? Outside, obviously. Midoriya could feel the scrape of cobblestone beneath his trembling hands and the heat of the afternoon caressing his skin. He tried to think, to remember...but everything was so fuzzy . It was hard to focus on anything at all. Thoughts trickled across his mind slow and viscous, like trying to pour the last bit of honey from the pot.
"Are you hurt?" the voice said, again. Midoriya squinted. Yes, voice. Focus on the voice.
"N-no." His voice was rough, ragged, tearing its way from his throat and making him wince. "I'm fine."
"Good. Do you know where you are?"
Midoriya blinked, looking beyond the fuzzy face to the blue sky. "Outside." Yes, that was right. He was...delivering. Potions. Midoriya struggled again to sit up, this time receiving help from his companion. The effort was great, and the alleyway around him spun and spun. Why was he in an alleyway? He...he was eating lunch… And slowly, the day's events trickled back and Midoriya's eyes widened and he gasped. The strange meeting. Saisei. Giran. Magic. He scrambled to his feet, unsteady, shoving away his companion's hands despite the way the world bucked and teetered around him. Midoriya stumbled, gaze darting about wildly as he tried to regain his bearings. "Saisei, he's in trouble!"
"Sir, please! Slow down, you were unconscious—"
Midoriya whirled around, legs buckling under him. Strong hands grasped his arms, holding him upright, but Midoriya hardly noticed or cared. He began to babble, terror for the safety of a man he knew only in name coursing through him. "Saisei, he was meeting someone, here in the alley! I-I don't know why, but he seemed scared, and then the guy used magic and hurt him and I tried to stop them but they're gone! Oh, gods, I hope he's alright, we need to help him! We, we need to help—"
"Iida? What's going on?"
The voice cut through Midoriya's ramble, bouncing across the alleyway. When Midoriya cast a glance over his shoulder, he was greeted with the sight of two people standing at the mouth of the alley, shadows cutting across their features. He could make out the splash of red, indicative of the king's men. The grip on Midoriya's arms eased, and he turned to meet the gaze of his companion. Recognition flashed through him. Iida, that was right. One of the knights he'd met at the gate. The...the one his age. Iida's focus flitted from Midoriya to the soldiers, and he sighed. "Please, one of you go get the Captain."
The two soldiers looked at each other for a moment. The shorter one shrugged and darted off, one hand grasping at the sword hilt at his hip. Midoriya watched him go, the small burst of adrenaline inside him snuffing out along with the fading footsteps beating against the road. His legs fully gave out, and he slumped against Iida. "Oh, my." The voice boomed against his ear, and when Midoriya blinked, he was sitting on the ground again, Iida crouched in front of him, hands grasping his shoulders. "What is your name?"
His brows furrowed. He was drowsy, again. Or, still? It was hard to tell. "Mi-uh." He blinked. What was the question again?
"Are you Deku?" Iida asked. Midoriya blinked. Oh. Right. Deku. He nodded, the motion making him dizzy, again. There was a hum. "You are friends with Miss Hadou-san from Winds Apothecary, yes?"
Winds Apothecary. His satchel! Midoriya gasped, whipping his head around. Behind him laid the crate pile, and he could see the forgotten chunk of cheese, melting into the crevices of the cobblestone. "My-my satchel!" He shifted, crawling down the forgotten street on his hands and knees, unsteady, ignoring the way the rough stone scraped against his palms. There was a scuff from behind, and the thud of footsteps.
"Wait! Please, Deku, sit down!" Iida darted in front of him, blocking Midoriya's path. He squatted, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose, and huffed a sigh. "I can acquire your satchel for you if you just sit for a moment. Alright?"
Midoriya nodded, wide eyed, and eased back onto the ground. He gestured to the crate pile, hand shaking. "I-it's between the-the pile," he stammered. Iida tossed a glance over his shoulder and sighed.
"That is not a secure place to keep anything." Despite the scolding phrase, Iida rose to his feet and marched over to the dilapidated pile, stepping around the fallen cheese and ducking under the gap. He paused, as though examining the space, before taking another step, half obscuring himself, and bending down. Iida backed out a moment later, Midoriya's well worn satchel dangling in his grasp. Relief cascaded over Midoriya like a tidal wave, and his shoulders sagged. Oh, thank the gods. It was still here. He practically tore it from Iida's grasp once the knight was close enough, hugging the satchel to his chest. To his utter relief, everything was still in order. The potions, the coins, it was all still safely tucked inside, untouched.
Midoriya's vision blurred, eyes burning with unshed tears, and he buried his face into the old leather, breathing in its musty scent. It was oddly grounding, his satchel. The feel of the supple and soft leather against his cheek and nose, the jingle of coins and heavy weight from the jars, weighing the bag down in his arms— it all helped clear the fuzz in Midoriya's head. He peeked over the bag, staring down the length of the alleyway.
That...happened. He watched a man fall to the ground, unconscious, because of magic. And now he was gone. And Midoriya wasn't able to help him. He sighed, shoulder sagging, and hugged the satchel tighter. He...failed. His fingers curled around the satchel, clutching at it. He failed to save someone. And now…
His mind skipped to Bakugou, and the Trial, and the way his screams echoed in the space, over and over and over again as a monster unlike any he'd ever seen attempted to kill his childhood friend. How that burning desire to do something consumed him, because it wasn't fair . That match wasn't fair, and neither was what just transpired. A well of unease swirled inside him. What could Giran possibly want with Saisei? Why just...take him, like that?
And why was he left behind?
"Do you think you can stand, now?"
Midoriya blinked. Iida hovered over him, arms stiff at his sides. "If so, perhaps you could allow me to escort you back to the apothecary shop."
Heat rose to his face. "O-oh, that's okay, I need to finish my deliveries—"
Iida waved an arm in a swift chopping motion, shaking his head. "Nonsense. You are clearly unwell, and it is my duty as city guard and knight of the king to ensure the citizens are safe." He straightened, looking impossibly stiffer, and once more pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "So I shall repeat myself. Can you stand, or do you require assistance?"
Midoriya bit his lip. His gaze dropped to the satchel in his arms, and he felt his chest constrict. Their customers were expecting their deliveries, today. It felt as though by returning to the shop with a half-full bag, he was letting everyone down. His fingers tingled, the sensation ghosting through Midoriya's hands, and he loosened his grip lest his hands fell asleep. Their customers and Hadou and Yaoyorozu and Uraraka were depending on him to finish these orders. Letting them down, after they'd done so much... But Midoriya could still feel the pull of exhaustion, tugging at his limbs and tickling behind his eyes. He glanced up to the sliver of sky. Perhaps he could at least go back and let them know what had happened. And apologize for the delay.
"I...I think I can stand." Midoriya pulled the satchel strap over his head, tugging on it to settle the strap onto his shoulder, and sucked in a breath. Well. Take two, he supposed. Carefully, Midoriya rose with shaky legs onto his feet. This time, the ground remained firm underfoot, and nothing tilted askew. He was standing. Iida hovered close, one hand on his sword hilt and the other hovering at his side.
"Do you need me to assist you?"
Midoriya shook his head, lips pulled into a small smile. "I'm alright, tha-thanks."
Walking was only minimally difficult, now. His mind was clear, senses sharp, and yet, there was a haze lingering in the back of his mind. It sort of reminded him of long sheep drives back in the mountains, when dire wolves plagued the herd and left Midoriya sleepless for nights on end, staff in hand as he watched for the fanged beasts of the dark. That same, strange curtain plagued the back of his mind then, dragging at his limbs and pulling yawns to his lips over and over again. Except this time he hadn't been awake for hours on end. He was dragged under by unknown magic, leaving behind this bizarre sensation.
Iida paused at the mouth of the alleyway, turning to the other knight. "Please, stay here and report to the captain. I am going to escort Deku to his residence, so I will return shortly."
His companion saluted, and Iida led Midoriya into the street. He didn't try to talk, and for that Midoriya was grateful. Talking didn't come easily on the best of days, and Midoriya certainly couldn't find words for idle conversation now. Not when his mind kept revolving around the afternoon's events over and over again. Could he have done something different? Should he have yelled? Fought back? Would that have changed anything? He didn't know, but he supposed that was the point.
There was no knowing how things would have played differently. At least, not this time.
Midoriya felt himself droop. The realization wasn't exactly comforting, and did little to sway the brewing clouds of disappointment and shame inside him. He gripped at the satchel strap with all his might, as though the crinkle of worn leather could keep the inner storm at bay.
Winds Apothecary Shop appeared around the corner, and Midoriya felt his heart constrict in his chest. He lagged behind Iida, letting the knight lead the way up to the well worn door. His feet dragged against the cobblestone, and Midoriya had half a mind to turn and bolt. To finish the deliveries and pretend the earlier events never even happened. But the shadows were long, too long for him to finish on time like normal. They would suspect something, and Midoriya wasn't sure he could lie like that.
So he hung back, head bowed in shame as Iida banged on the door. "Hadou-san of Winds Apothecary! It is I, Iida Tenya, knight to the king! Please, open your door!"
There was a scrape and a creak, and the door opened to reveal a baffled Uraraka. She peered up at Iida with furrowed brows, lips pursed as she hung on the door. "Yes? Is...there something we can help you with?
"There's been an incident," Iida said, voice clipped and professional. He stepped aside, and Uraraka's gaze slid from Iida to Midoriya. Her expression screwed up in confusion.
"Deku?" She was in front of him in an instant, grasping at his shoulders tightly, as if he was going to float away. A breeze tickled at his skin, and Midoriya shuddered.
"Are you okay? What happened?"
Midoriya didn't get to answer, because Iida spoke for him. "My troop found him unconscious in an alleyway. It appears he had an altercation with a magic user. We will be doing a full investigation of this matter, and I will be filing his statement as a report with the captain, rest assured. I thought it best to bring him back, so he may get some rest, in the meantime." He bowed at the waist, before turning on his heel and striding off into the crowd, leaving Midoriya alone with Uraraka.
The grip on his shoulders tightened, and he found himself lost once again in the hearth of Uraraka's gaze. Worry burned there, bright and hot enough to nearly make him gasp under its intensity, and she yanked him in for a tight hug. His breath lodged itself in his throat, his whole body freezing up. Heat rose to his cheeks when Uraraka buried her face in the junction of his neck and shoulder, squeezing him so tight, he could hardly breathe. Midoriya let out a shuddering breath, tears burning at his eyes, and hesitantly, he returned the hug.
She pulled away after a moment, hand trailing down his arm and entwining with his own. "Come on," she murmured. "Let's get you inside."
~#~#~#~
Moonlight trailed its way across Midoriya's stiff quilt, bathing the faded patterns in an ethereal light. There was just something oddly magical about moonlight. It had a way of making the most mundane things look hauntingly beautiful. Midoriya's gaze traced over pale flowers, admiring the cool hues the soft glow gave them while his mind wandered.
Things had been strange, lately. Tense. A thick blanket of worry had draped itself over the apothecary shop, and Midoriya felt nearly smothered under it.
After being returned to the shop, he'd been crowded by Hadou and Yaoyorozu, who had both promptly interrogated him on what had happened. And when Midoriya spoke about what had transpired, an unsettled chill fell over the space. The three of them were quiet, stunned, exchanging horrified glances between each other.
"You're sure that's what he said?" Hadou asked, brows creased. Midoriya nodded, worrying his lip.
"Ye-yeah. Somnus."
A flash of something sparked in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant, covered by a faux version of her usually cheery smile. She placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning into his space as she was wont to do, and gave it a squeeze. "Why don't you head upstairs and rest up? Uraraka and I can run these orders out and finish up for today, okay?"
Midoriya had tried arguing. He was shut down in an instant, of course, by Uraraka, giving his hand a squeeze and looking at him with round, glassy eyes, pooled with care and worry. His resolve shattered immediately, shoulders slumping as he accepted defeat and allowed himself to embrace their kindness once more. With gentle hands, Uraraka had grasped his satchel strap and tugged it up over his head, taking it off. He swayed a bit, the weight's sudden disappearance making him feel almost off-balance. There was another soft squeeze of his hand, and Uraraka led him away from the main shop and to the back store room, where she encouraged him to climb up into their living space. Midoriya felt almost as though he was in a trance as he climbed, one rung after another.
It wasn't until he'd numbly shuffled his way to the couch that he realized Uraraka hadn't followed him up. Huh. Maybe she was getting ready to deliver the rest of the orders? He shrugged to himself and sank down onto the cushion with a sigh. It was fine. If he couldn't deliver, then perhaps he could work on his letters for awhile.
So, he pulled out his parchments and struggled with writing for some time. How long, Midoriya wasn't sure, because he ended up falling asleep, parchments scattered about the space and ink smudged on his face and hands.
The strangeness didn't end there, either. The next day, he found himself greeted with the sight of Iida, dressed in full uniform, standing in their shop, as stiff as ever as Hadou chatted at him while fiddling with her quill. He didn't speak back though, just stared off into space, an intense look stamped onto his features. Midoriya paused in the storeroom doorway, hands gripping his satchel strap as he balked. What on earth…?
His heart leaped to his throat. Did something happen? Did they find Saisei? Midoriya lurched forward, pulse roaring in his ears. "Iida-kun?" The name clawed its way from his throat, and Iida's gaze snapped to his in an instant. He bowed at the waist, stiff and professional, his indigo fringe hanging off his forehead.
"Good morning, Deku-kun." He straightened, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "Miss Hadou-san has requested the assistance of the Knights— I am here to escort you through the city alongside your deliveries."
Midoriya blinked. Escort him? His gaze slid to Hadou who's typically chipper expression was pinched. She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm sorry, Deku, I know this is a bit much…" A sigh breezed past her lips. "We all just agreed this would be safer."
He looked back to Iida, with his impressive, wide shoulders and cool, stony gaze. His ever tidy uniform looked quite out of place against the natural tones of the apothecary shop, that stark red vivid and magnetic. He had a hand on his sword hilt that hung at his hip, and he gave off the same intimidating aura Midoriya felt the first day he saw Iida upon entering the city. A frown tugged at his lips. He supposed he would be safer with one of the king's men at his side. But why did he even need such a thing at all? The thought had his skin prickling, and Midoriya's memories jumped to the feel of rough fingers pressing a cool token to his forehead and a leering, curved smile beaming down at him. "Am...am I in danger?" His voice shook, the words springing from his lips on their own accord. Hadou blinked, her mouth falling open. Worry pooled in her expression, and Midoriya felt his stomach lurch.
Oh, gods.
There was a thump, and a clatter. His gaze leaped across the store to find Yaoyorozu, a broom at her feet. Her hands hovered in the air, cheeks tomato red. "Oh, dear, my apologies," she said, voice wavering with embarrassment. She stooped over and fumbled to pick it up, before shooting upright with the broom clutched tightly between her fists. "Sorry." Yaoyorozu laughed, voice high and wheedling and much unlike it normally was, which had that uneasy feeling twisting in Midoriya's chest.
The laughter trailed off, and Yaoyorozu's expression fell away to something tired and lined with the same worry that painted Hadou's. "We don't know," she said quietly. "All we know is that there have been rumors of people disappearing, something you confirmed yesterday." She grew quiet then, pensive, eyes glimmering with shadows of the likes that Midoriya couldn't decipher.
"Please," Hadou murmured, "just...humor us."
Midoriya looked from Hadou to Yaoyorozu to Iida, standing passively in the shop, expression unchanging. He took a breath, and nodded. "Okay."
And that was what he did. For the next two days, everywhere he went in the city, Iida was on his tail, one hand on his sword hilt and the other adjusting his glasses, words streaming forth from his mouth as he constantly berated him for ducking and weaving through the late autumn markets. "Please, you must slow down! If I cannot keep up with you, I cannot ensure your safety!" His cries bounced through the streets, drawing gazes their way wherever they went. Midoriya frowned.
That seemed to be the opposite of what they wanted.
But Midoriya couldn't just slow down— he had a tight schedule to follow. Falling behind meant forfeiting deliveries, and that meant angry customers, and letting Hadou and Yaoyorozu and Uraraka down even more than he already had. So Midoriya just ignored the protests and kept up the pace, ignoring the constant stream of scolding pouring out just a few steps behind him.
He sighed, grasping his quilt tighter. Having a chaperone felt a lot like being put on a leash, and Midoriya hated it. He knew it was for his safety. He got that. And he appreciated it! Really. It was...nice, having people that worried that much about him. He didn't really get that back at home. No one aside from his mother seemed to care much that he did sheep drives on his own more often than not, despite the dangerous beasts that lurked around the mountains. People cared about him, of course. Just. Not quite this much.
It was almost overwhelming, at times.
But then he'd catch the muted glimmer of worry in Uraraka's eyes when she looked at him, the way she hovered near him when in his vicinity, as if she needed to bump shoulders with him lest he disappear, and he gulped down his discomfort. It was stifling, it was inconvenient, but they needed this. She needed this. So Midoriya bit his tongue and went with the new flow of things.
He tugged an arm free of its quilt trappings and draped it over his face with a sigh. He felt a little dumb, being so hung up over this. But he couldn't help the way his chest squeezed at the knowledge that he was the one that brought the dark cloud over the household. Because he wasn't strong enough, fast enough, someone had gotten hurt.
Midoriya's breath hitched as the vivid memory of Saisei going lax and limp, collapsing to the stony ground in a heap, danced across his mind's eye. His face scrunched and he pressed his arm harder against his face, as though the throb could erase the past from his memory.
Sleep. He just needed to sleep. Shut off his brain. Be quiet. Sleep. He just needed to focus on breathing, in and out in and out, over and over again, and nothing else. Not the jumbled thoughts from today or yesterday or the day before, just sleep. Just the peaceful rustle of his quilt as he shifted, burrowing further under the gentle weight. He just needed to relax, melt into the mattress, let the cushion of comfort and safety take him to blissful sleep. He just...needed to sleep. To breathe. In and out… To let his mind rest... Stop...thinking… He just…needed…
"Kacchan, wait up!"
His little legs burned from the effort to keep up with the puff of blond hair bobbing through the tall ferns up ahead. Leaves whipped into his face, dew splattering across his cheeks and down his brow. The light was low, and there were soft chirrups from owls and other birds echoing through the wood overhead. Midoriya stumbled, boot catching something— a root? A yelp burst past his lips, and he flailed his arms in an attempt to stay on his feet. "Kacchan?" But Midoriya's cries went unanswered. He righted himself, gaze flying from the ground back up in search of his friend.
Bakugou was nowhere in sight. A pang bolted through his chest. He stumbled forward, gaze whipping about. Shade colored the forest in dark, cool colors, growing darker by the minute. It…it was kind of scary... He bit his lip, curling in on himself. "Kacchan? Kacchan, where are you?" His voice echoed strangely in the wood, bouncing and bouncing like he was back in the mountains with his father. Midoriya cradled his arms to his chest, nails biting into his skin. He turned slowly, eyes wide, gaze darting about to search the shadows. They were deeper, darker, sharper than they were moments before. The ferns seemed taller, almost, their leaves curled and pointed. Gnarled trees towered overhead, leering over him and caging him in. Midoriya stumbled back. He...he was scared. Sounds rustled in the darkness. "Kacchan?"
A hoot, garbled, and menacing. Midoriya flinched. He stumbled forward, gaze darting about the inky dark shadows. A whimper worked its way from his throat. A crunch, there— his head whipped around. Something shifted in the shadows, what was it? Another snap. And another. His eyes burned with unshed tears, terror gripping his heart with its sharp claws. Trembles wracked his whole body, and Midoriya fumbled onwards, shoving fern fronds out of the way, heart pounding in his throat. "Kacchan!" His voice echoed strangely in the wood, a chorus of hoots ringing out in the following silence. They spurred Midoriya on, faster, twigs snapping underfoot in his haste.
Another rustle, another snap. Midoriya tossed a glance over his shoulder, shadowy fronds bobbing in his vision. His breaths fell rough, ragged, from his lips. Kacchan, where was Kacchan? So distracted he was in his effort to flee from the unknown, Midoriya didn't realize when the twisted maze of ferns fell away, and he tripped over his own two feet and fell into a clearing. An oof burst from his lips, and he blinked, dazed, strands of grass tickling his nose. Midoriya shifted, rising onto his hands and knees. Moonlight bathed the space in a pale glow, the dewy grass almost sparkling and the shadows cutting deeper. Darker. Trees ringed the circle like towering walls, ferns and undergrowth whispering under their canopy. Watching. Waiting. Rising up from the grass, in the center of the clearing, was a boy with a familiar puff of blond hair, bathed almost white under the light of the moon. Relief nearly had his arms buckling under his own weight.
Thank the gods.
Midoriya scrambled to his feet and stumbled to his friend. "Kacchan, there you are."
But Bakugou didn't answer him. No snort, no comment, no snark. He just sat, motionless, facing away from Midoriya, head tilted upwards towards the starless sky. That earlier unease sprang up inside him, welling up like water from a spring, and his hand shook as he reached out to grasp Bakugou's shoulder. "Ka-Kacchan?"
A throaty chuckle rose into the night. Bakugou's shoulders shook, and he slumped forward, wild, horrific, guttural laughter spilling from him. Midoriya flinched as though he'd been burned, stumbling back. He watched, horrified, as Bakugou's pale skin began to ooze. Like...like he was melting. As though instead of flesh and bone, he was wax, melting beneath the heat of a flame. And oh, gods, that horrible, chilling laugh. Bakugou threw his head back, and Midoriya could see a flash of his wide, deranged eyes, before he slumped forward again. The goop of his arms, legs, waist, pooled in the grass, growing in size, and when Midoriya blinked it was though an ink blot was dropped into a water basin, for the pale goop darkened. It bled up, up, past Bakugou's arms to his shoulders and head. And he grew . Larger, taller, wider, bowing even more forward. Laughter turned to throaty snarls, and when Bakugou shifted his head just so, Midoriya could see one, glowing red eye and the gleam of sharp teeth.
His heart leaped to his throat. "Kacchan…" His voice was naught but a hoarse whisper. Still, in the silence of the clearing, one whisper was all it took. Bakugou whirled around, but it wasn't Bakugou any more.
A beast. A beast so horrifying, so grotesque... Hulking muscles rippled and shone in the moonlight, veins pulsing. He—it—lumbered forward on unsteady, clawed feet, arms nearly brushing the grass they were so long. And the eyes, gods, the eyes. They glowed red, like fire, alight with such hatred Midoriya found himself stumbling back from the sheer force of it. Teeth sharp and pointed glittered in the low light, and something glowed on its chest, some mark Midoriya didn't recognize or understand. "Ka-acchan," he pleaded, arms extended out in front of him. But Bakugou, if he was still there, didn't seem to realize he'd spoken. He—it—lurched towards Midoriya, ground shuddering under its bulky weight. Midoriya fell to the ground, muscles seizing with horror. His heart was in his throat, stomach rolling, and he could only gasp at the sight before him.
Shadow fell across him, and the snarling monstrosity of his friend loomed over him, those glowing eyes burning into Midoriya's very soul. He choked out a plea, begging. "Please, Kacchan, please—" but they were drowned by the growls. Growls that echoed in his ears and had gooseflesh spreading across his arms and chills running down his spine. Drool dripped from massive jaws, splatting onto Midoriya's face. Warm breath puffed in his face, reeking of death, and Midoriya only had a moment to think of his mother before the monster lurched forward, teeth grazing his neck—
Screaming. Midoriya was aware of screaming. He flailed, but something trapped his legs and arms, fueling the panic pounding in his veins. His vision was blurry and something hot and wet streamed down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. Distantly, he heard a bang, and some shouts, and suddenly there were warm hands encircling his wrists. He screamed louder then— the screams were his, of course they were— but the grip tightened. A voice, like bells, chimed in the space. "Deku, Deku, Deku," it chanted. His thrashing slowed, his screams died on his tongue. Through bleary eyes, Midoriya saw wisps of brown, mussed hair and wide, ochre eyes. A thumb swiped at his wrist, a gentle gesture, and another chime. "Deku, it's okay. You're okay. I'm here."
He was tugged forward, and lithe arms wrapped around him tightly. Fingers ran through his hair, soothing, a soft murmur ringing in his ear. The gentle touch was all it took. A sob wracked his body, and his arms curled around Uraraka tightly, squeezing her as he shook.
"You're okay, Deku. It was just a dream. Just a dream." She whispered it over and over, fingers combing his hair while she held him, an anchor in the storm that brewed within. To her he clung, while he cried and cried.
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