From The Sidelines.

The Maze.

It's sunny.

God, it was sunny. Through closed eyes, Katsuki could see the veins running through his skin, and the bright yellow rays piercing through his lids. And the air, it felt good on his face, brushing his hair across his brow ridge. It wasn't too hot, with a bit of breeze sweeping through and the gorgeous sound of waves crashing and seagulls filled the morning air.

Underneath his back, Katsuki feels the soreness from the hard granite tiled floor, and if at any point he decides to get up off of the ground, he knows there will be a slight ache. Stuck to the underside of his arm were the tiny fragments of the porcelain he had shattered the previous night that. He had laid down on them without knowing, lost in the intensity of last night.

Bakugo Katsuki wishes that it would be one of those mornings where he got to enjoy a bit of oblivious peace, with a couple minutes of happiness before the memories of everything that has happened comes back. But he didn't even get that luxury: the luxury of forgetting for the few hours that he went to sleep.

No, in his dreams, he relived the same day again, over and over until it felt like he could recite Izuku's words of goodbye. Until he felt like he could count the tears falling from the boy's sweet face. And everytime, Katsuki does something different, says something different, to make Izuku stay. And yet, the green eyed boy never does.

Because out of all the things he says, it's never the one phrase that would make a difference.

Katsuki opens his eyes finally, and comes face to face with a blue morning sky filled with gorgeous tufts of pure white clouds and equally white birds flying overhead. It was a beautiful morning, and that almost made him more upset than if the weather had matched the mood. Because it felt as if the world was already moving on from the events of yesterday, while he still could not grasp the fact that Izuku was gone, that Izuku loved him, and that he can barely handle it.

Reaching his arm out and feeling around for his phone, Katsuki takes a hold of it and tries to connect to the pill speaker. Music could help. The day just started, it wasn't too late to get in the right mood. When a notification on his phone tells him the speaker had no battery left, Katsuki cursed just once under his breath.

Shit , the blonde says, closing his eyes again for a couple of seconds, before deciding to just play it from his phone and sets it next to his head. His movements were ragged, as if he was having trouble acting normal. Putting the playlist on shuffle, Katsuki rubs his temples at the song that comes up.

The downtrodden sound of Chris Isaak's Wicked Games plays through his phone speakers, and Katsuki immediately dislikes how the song embodies just how defeated he felt. And this feeling. This sensation of defeat was something he's never felt before to this extent. He was Katsuki. Katsuki Bakugo. And defeat was not something he knew of. And yet, there it was in his chest and in his head. He is about to change the song, when the words come in, and Katsuki decides that he'll just let it play.

Katsuki just breathes out, "Fuck this shit."

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

Katsuki looks up at the sky once more, still not having gotten up from his spot on the ground, and how sunny everything looked made him angry. And when he sits up, tiny pieces of porcelain fell from his back and arms to the tiles. How perfect and joyous the waves and the animals in the vicinity seemed made him angry.

He hated that it was a perfectly sunny day. He fucking hated that the birds were chirping. He hated that in the world, nothing seemed to change when in fact, everything has .