{~Deku one-shots with angst~}

The Scent of the Solemn Stars

A/N: Hello guys! Welcome back to another chapter! Apologies this chapter is a little late, but hopefully you enjoy! Warning: briefest mention of flesh burning. 

AU: Izuku has many memories of the smell of smoke. The stars only emphasise the internal uselessness, but Aizawa's here to let him break. 

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Smoke. 

The smell of it has been locked into Midoriya's memory for as long as ever. 

Smoke. 

The aroma of yakitori skewers grilling in his home, his mother laughing while turning them ever so often, the window opened to let out the heat, and welcome the smell of fresh flowers. 

Izuku remembers piling up the sticks he had used, and playing games with them..in his memory, his mum was always smiling and laughing. 

Smoke. 

Something was burning. 

Tears blurred Midoriya's vision, as he stumbled away from the kitchen, his mother ushering him away. Together, they burst through the door, and tumbled into the street, a trail of grey, puffy smoke lingering behind them. 

The memory of his loving father was the thing burning- only a shell stood there now. 

Smoke. 

Starbursts across his arms, crimson eyes flashing red, red, red against him, bruises mottling his body. 

Stars used to mean hope, used to mean comfort. 

Stars used to mean light, and brightness, and guidance. 

Stars now burned. 

The scent of burning skin filled his nostrils; his own. 

The smell of smoke has been locked into Midoriya's memory for as long as ever. 

----

Kamino was burning. 

Buildings were scorched, and lit alight, the bright amber flames seething, grasping and cackling at the night sky. 

Smoke billowed from every angle, small ignitions sparking their way to life. 

Izuku couldn't breath. 

Kamino had been burning. 

Izuku shot up on the bed he was in, gaze diverted before he processed he was in Recovery Girl's room. 

Tracing the bandage still on his cheek, he tried to calm down his breathing, a single tear rolling off his face. 

This wasn't supposed to happen... this should've stopped happening. 

Midoriya forced his shoulders to relax, staring at his hand- broken, ruined, scarred- and concentrating on each breath that made his chest heave. 

He was powerful now. 

He wasn't supposed to be- what- stuck in the past?

And yet...

Roughly, Izuku rubbed at his moist eyes, letting out a silent cry.