Deku, I Love You (complete, Bkdk)

13: Sing

Warning: There's a scary part, and I don't want ya'll to like freak out when you read this so warning you twice this episode! 🥰

Katsukis' POV 😤:

I had been so annoyed at Killer Piller. He had seen me with Dekuji and decided "Hey! Let's screw the blondie over and put him with the sweet boy-next-door in class!" The trip was fun, I guess, and the food was good. It was about 2:00, and the girls and guys had planned to do separate things; swimming and fishing. I hate fishing. It was so hard to have the patience for something that was no fun. I offered to go with the girls, to 'protect them'. M*neta protested, of course, saying it wasn't fair, and that I should go with. Hair for Brains and Dunce Face stood up for me, and the girls agreed that I should come, and M*neta should stay where the boys, specifically Shoji, (A true gentleman) could stop him from going near anyone. M*neta soon gave up and walked back to the cabin, lisping and mumbling about unfair treatment. 

Izuku had disappeared about 10 minutes ago and, despite my best intentions, I was getting worried. I had yet to check the room and soon I found myself in it. I heard the shower running, bouncing off skin. I was quickly turning red, blood flooding my face and ears as I thought deeper into the situation. I shook my head, shaking my thoughts and attempting to clear them. Then the voice came in. It was soft but voluminous, striking all the notes, low and high as it crept under the nook of the door, trying to announce itself. I looked up at the door and sat down, resting my head against the bed pressed against the wall. I felt my eyes close as I listened to the sweet sound of his voice, pulling me into a sleepy lull. The voice carried on, as the shower shut off, keeping me statued in my spot. I heard the door open, and the voice stopped mid-note. I ripped my eyes open to see Dekuji there, towel around the waist, muscles pronounced in his figure. "K-Kacchan!"

Izukus' POV🥦:

"K-Kacchan!" I yelp, surprised by his presence.

 "Why'd you stop?" 

I stopped moving- "What?" 

"Why'd you stop singing?"

"Y-you- I- I- Don't.... know?" I mumble out, trying to focus on getting my clothes...

"Sing for me."

I stopped at the closet, hand raised up, trying to grab my shirt. I turned and my hand dropped. At that moment, I lost control of my words and mind, which drew a blank.

"What?"

"Sing" 

I sighed and took a deep inhale, trying to calm my nerves. I sang softly at first, trying to hide behind my clothes as a shield. I dressed quickly, eyes darting back and forth between his clothes eyes and my clothes. The song grew in volume and soon I lost myself in it.

I find myself sitting across from him, holding my guitar, which I had brought with me as a last-minute resort to boredom, and as the song ends, I find Eri sitting in the doorway, gazing at me softly and a slow smile reaches across her face as she says "Hey Mr.Deku, you've got a nice voice." Kacchans' eyes open slowly, and a soft smile plays on his lips. "She's right Deku, you sound so nice." He gets up and walks to the bathroom, holding his swimming trunks.

(Time skip brought to you by Midnights' feet pics)

Dinner was finished at about 6:30, and soon everyone gathered outside, in the soft glow of the sunset, talking and building a bonfire. The salt from the ocean's driftwood soon brought the burning flames to a blue color, lighting up everyone's' awed faces.

Aizawa's POV😴: 

I knew Problem Child was afraid of horror films, and I knew Bakugou liked Izuku, at least, from the way his gaze raked over the small boy. Ashido, the alien acid girl, blurted out something about a horror story being told, and I volunteered, trying to push my ship together. Us teachers at UA, including my ever-present, ever-loud husband, Presentation Micheal (Present Mic) all tried to push the two boys together. I stood up, clearing my throat.

Third-person POV🐱‍🚀: (Scary part comes in here, this is a tester idea and maybe their own book)

"Imagine a world where every scream comes ringing in your ears like a victory cry. Like every drop of blood is another reason for joy. Some people live in this world of pain, enjoying the suffering of others. Your corners on a dark street corner. Your hands are dripping blood, trailing down from your neck, which is cut and exposed, bringing bloody trails down your shirt, and pain brings you to tears as a dark figure approaches. He wields a sharp hunting knife with your blood dribbling down the side, muscles from your neck landing on the side of it. He stalks towards you, a cynical smile on his face, as he fiddles with the blood idly, trying to make you squirm and squeal as he comes towards you, succeeding. As your final breath leaves with a scream, you feel the knife carve through your throat, cutting it off into the black abyss."