scars can fade [bakudeku]

chapter 1 - the beginning of the end

'When you feel like giving up, just remember the reason why you held on for so long.'

- Hayley Williams

***

Izuku is dying.
That's all there is to this. He's desperately gasping for air, but it won't fill his lungs. It's as if there's a filter which makes him breathe in anything but oxygen. His throat is dry and it's hard to stay calm in a situation like this. He's trying his best. No one else seems to have a problem with the lack of oxygen here and deep down he knows it's just in his head, but knowing isn't enough. He doesn't want people to notice what's going on, he doesn't want them to pay attention to him. He just wants to fade into the background where no one will notice him, where no one will see him. There's no one left who cares about him anyway. He could easily die. Just 19 more days and they won't have to see his face ever again. He wishes he could stay the same useless nobody for the next 19 days, too. There's no need for things to get more complicated.

Even though there's nothing wrong with his eyes, it's hard for him to see the people around him. It's all blurry and vague. He sees three — maybe four — people gathered around him. They're talking, their mouths are moving but he can't make out what they're saying. There are too many sounds, everything is too loud. He can hear his classmates talking and laughing, he can hear the restless wind in the trees outside, he can hear the news being played from the TV. That's not even all, he can't even make out what most of these sounds are: loud music, shouting people, pieces of paper, an alarm, ringing of some sort of bell, he isn't sure. You could say it's like fireworks, as if they're all being fired at the same time, creating a huge bang of sounds which make your ears pop. Izuku hates fireworks, he hates the sound of explosions, he hates all of it. He tries covering his ears with his hands, he tries stopping the sounds, tries stopping the fireworks, but whatever he does, they keep getting louder and louder. There are more people gathered around him now, around 8 of his classmates have all their attention on him and only him. One person keeps coming closer and ends up shielding everyone else in his vision, it makes him feel at ease in a way. The sounds seems to lessen, too. But that's probably just in his head.

"Midoriya... Hear me?" He hears a faint voice, although it's not easy making out what it's saying. He recognizes the voice to be Mr. Aizawa's, but that's all he knows. His breathing has been getting worse, he's not even sure how he's still conscious after all this, but he tries focusing on his voice.
"Midoriya... me... promise... okay." Mr. Aizawa speaks again, but it's still hard for him to make out the exact sentences he's making. Howecer, focusing on it makes it sound more clear.
"Out... Breathe... In... And." Izuku knows he's supposed to breathe in, but he's been trying to do that all this time. The entire problem with that is that the air isn't filling his lungs as it's supposed to.
"Trust me. Breathe in." His sentences are becoming clearer and clearer and Izuku does as he's told, breathing in. Despite the feeling that nothing is different than last time, he holds it in anyway.
"And out." Mr. Aizawa's voice says. Izuku lets the air he didn't know had filled his lungs leave them. It makes him feel like there's more space for oxygen than before.
"Breathe, in and out." He hears him say slowly, and he obeys again. Once again he can feel that his lungs have more space for oxygen, it's relieving. He breathes in again, holds it for a few seconds, then breathes out.

His eyes start focusing on his surroundings. Mr. Aizawa is blocking Izuku's ears with his hands and breathing slowly while telling him to do the same. Uraraka, Iida, Momo, Kirishima, Kaminari, Tsuyu and Todoroki are all gathered around them, making him feel anxious again. But he succeeds in keeping his breathing steady this time. The sounds that were so loud and overwhelming a second ago, are now on regular volume and filtered. He breathes in and out again, feeling the air entering and leaving his lungs. He's not dying. Not yet at least.
In the corner of his eye he can see an old friend — or whatever they were in elementary school — walking up the stairs, which gives him a somewhat sad feeling. Kacchan is the only one who knows about his panic attacks. He used to have them a lot when he was younger, multiple times a day, but Kacchan always ignored it. He ignored him. Katsuki tried paying as less attention as possible to Izuku back then, but they both were aware of the reason why he had the attacks in the first place. Izuku doesn't want Katsuki to feel bad now that they're getting worse again. There's no need for that, there are only a few more days left after all.
"I'm okay." Izuku manages to say, focusing on what's happening in front of him, his voice sounds rusty and the words taste dry. Uraraka runs towards the kitchen and returns with a glass of water, from which he takes a sip.
"Midoriya, once you've calmed down, could you please come with me?" Mr. Aizawa asks. Usually, when a teacher who isn't All Might asks him to come with them, he knows he's in trouble, but this time is different.

"Do you experience panic attacks often?" Mr. Aizawa asks once they're alone in Aizawa's office, Izuku isn't sure what to answer. He can't give him an honest answer without exposing his and Kacchan's messy past. He doesn't want to bother him with that.
"Not really." He answers, trying to sounds as sincere as possible. He doubts Mr. Aizawa actually believed that, but luckily, he doesn't ask any further either.
"Alright, just tell me if you need anything. Anything at all." Mr. Aizawa adds before dismissing Izuku from his office.

Izuku passes the common area, where everyone falls silent as soon as he enters. All eyes are staring at him again, waiting for some kind of explanation. He isn't going to give it to them. "I'm going to sleep, you don't have to wake me for dinner." He tells them, he's everything but in the mood to explain how fucked up he is. He knows they wanted a different response, they wanted a response in which he explained what just happened, but he doesn't feel like telling them yet, or ever. They'll probably find out soon, maybe they won't. He's fine with either.

He locks his door after entering his room. He used to feel scared after a panic attack, he used to cry and hug his mom for hours. But he can't feel anything at all right now. He can't remember the last time he cried, or felt any other emotion that isn't anxiety, even anxiety doesn't occur that often anymore. He's been emotionally numb for way too long. He flips on the lightswitch in his bathroom and searches for his razor. He knows what he's gonna do is wrong, he knows he shouldn't do it, but what does it even matter at this point?
He unwraps the bandages around his arms, revealing hundreds of scars on them. They're starting on his shoulders and go all the way down to his wrists, there's too much to even count, he hadn't noticed how much he had made, he sometimes doesn't even notice them at all anymore. But they're always there, scars never fully heal.

He stares into the mirror, a skeleton stares back. He's looking pale, and you can see his bones through his skin because he hasn't been eating well in the past few months either. Everything about him is fucked up, he's the visual representation of what you get when you order a package deal of mental instability.
Izuku closes his eyes and take a few breaths. When he opens them, the same figure is still staring back at him, proving him once again that this is reality. This is his reality. He's still living the same life as the same useless nobody. And he knows he's better of dead. Just 19 more days. 19 more days until he'll be free.
He picks up the razor again and slides it over his left arm, leaving a trail of red fluid which drips down on the bathroom counter. It doesn't even hurt that much anymore, the skin on his right arm has become numb, but simply seeing the blood and feeling the blade on his skin feels relieving to him. The pain he does feel tells him that he hasn't fully died yet. He might look dead, but his skin can still bleed, it still feels pain, so it hasn't died.

He makes another cut. For worrying everyone.
Another cut for lying to Mr. Aizawa.
A fourth cut for skipping dinner.
A fifth cut. A sixth cut. A seventh cut. The red liquid on the counter keeps expanding and some of it starts dripping onto the floor.
An eighth cut. For having a panic attack.
An ninth cut. For wanting to die. Somehow, his thoughts trail off to the person who brought this idea to his head for the first time. He wanted to die before that moment, but never thought it was a possibility to do it himself. He told him he could, it must sound weird, but he's thankful for that. Izuku is thankful, because he'll finally do what he always wanted.
A tenth cut. For Kacchan.
An eleventh cut. For caring about Kacchan.
A twelfth cut. For not hating Kacchan.
A thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth and more cuts. For loving him. For being unable to stop thinking about him. For being such a loser compared to him. For being that annoying nobody following him around because he didn't know what else to do. For being in his life. For existing.
Why must he exist?