Uproar // Villain Deku // Book 2

Chapter 16: Masks.

Katsuki Bakugou's P.O.V

    Masks. Everyone everywhere wears one. Whether it's to fit in more at school or work or to hide your secrets from your parents and family — everyone wears a mask. Todoroki wore a mask — to hide his true nature behind the image others held to his name; Izuku wore a mask — trapping people in his sweet nothings and using them as pawns in his schemes without even batting an eyelash at the suffering he causes; I wore a mask.

Masks.

Everyone everywhere wears one.

    My mask was developed and designed to shield my newfound villainous side from the world, from my classmates, from everyone; however, even before Izuku had recruited me to aid him in his cause, I wore a mask. One to hide the evil I had done even before Izuku's face had resurfaced under the name of Agony. The mask I wore back then was one produced to protect myself from the glares I was now receiving from everyone around me — it protected me from the truth: I was a murderer.

    I could see the masks that others would parade about in — acting as if with their shields of false personalities and lies they were somehow secure; untouchable; invincible, but they weren't. I could see through the sweet nothings and pleasant lies to the harsh and upsetting truth: no one was who they said they were. Everyone housed secrets; everyone kept something from the limelight to protect themselves; everyone told lies — it was only human nature. I could see through the lies, the secrets, and the deception now. I could see through the masks to the unpleasant core now. All because of Izuku.

    I saw behind the smiles; the compliments; everything — I saw the lies. I saw the masks.

Masks.

Everyone everywhere wears one, and mine was slipping.

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"What's in that bag?" Kirishima's voice echoed throughout my ears — drumming over and over and over again as I tried to think.

    I could hardly tell him what it was that had been occupying the bag — not after I had come so far. Even I had found the bag repulsive, but Kirishima would be just as horrified as I was — if not more.

    The bag swayed as it taunted me. Its stare flew throughout the room — reaching every angle; reaching every crevasse; reaching every point as it roamed about. I was in a state of panic as my eyes flickered between the bag and the person before it.

"I'll help you unpack." He beamed once more, approaching the bag.

    Thinking quickly, I stepped in front of his path — acting as a barricade between him and the bag and confusing him completely. My mind wandered from question to question, scenario to scenario — wondering what could possibly come of this.

    He still seemed wary or unsure of himself as he stood before me — despite his speech of still caring for me. He still seemed nervous of what I might do or of whom I still was, whether I was a reimagined Bakugou Katsuki, or the one he had once known — still wearing my mask of deception and lies.

He wore a mask.

    He was lying when he said that he had wanted to start over — similar to how I had been lying when I shook his hand, expressing my falsified mutual feelings on the matter. I could sense it; I could feel it; I could see it — his mask, I mean.

Masks.

Everyone everywhere wears one, I could see them now.

"It's alright, I've got it." I smiled as I scratched the back of my head slightly — trying to cease his curiosity.