At Your Feet, This Is My Unbecoming

Eyes In The Dead Still Water

Bakugou knelt there with his hand extended outward, tears in his eyes, blood splattering on his face, his clothes, and the concrete next to him. A hand came to rest on his head, but he couldn't care if it was malicious or not. He had known that this probably wouldn't work, but why did it always have to be his fault.

It was always his fault. Was that the point of all of this? To force him to see what he had done?

A hand waved in front of his face, and he wondered whether he deserved to die. Then a knee nudged his shoulder and he finally blinked away from Midoriya's body. Eraserhead, also with a few drops of blood splattered on his face, reached out a hand to help him to his feet. Instead, he used it to steal a hug and bury his sobs.

After the long, hard crying session, he was tired. But this bone-deep tiredness was something that had been building up alongside loneliness and self-loathing. It had been building up during each and every loop, until he could no longer deny that those were the emotions that drove him. And he had always stood back and let those emotions take the wheel, leaving himself prone to bad decisions in an attempt to receive validation.

But Midoriya was never like that. Bakugou had projected himself onto Midoriya and attacked him, all in a forlorn attempt to rid himself of his own hatred. And now Deku hated himself too.

He had to do this the right way next time. No more lying to himself. No more false promises.

The next loop had to succeed.

Bakugou numbly pulled himself off of the pro hero, "What... should we do now...?"

Eraserhead glanced at Midoriya's empty body sadly, "Come to my apartment tomorrow morning at the time I told you. Explain this everything, the loops, this plan," his eyes sharpened, "and everything you refused to tell me today."

Bakugou flinched.

"This isn't ideal but..." Eraserhead glanced at his watch, "I think there's something else we're missing here."

"Like, what?" Bakugou choked out.

"Would you say he was suicidal before the loops began? Was any of his behavior strange before the loops or has he always been like this? And don't deny that you know him well, he calls you Kacchan and you let him."

He fumbled over his words, "ah-i-um-well, he uh, we uh, I didn't notice anything. But... but I wouldn't say we're close... anymore..."

Eraserhead's eyebrow raised, but realization dawned in his eyes rather than all over his face like most people, "I see..." another glance at his watch.

Was it almost midnight, then?

"It seemed as though there was something more you were thinking about when I asked you when the loops reset. Would you care to explain?" Eraserhead pressed.

Another flinch, "It was... awful..."

"Ah," the pro hero looked mildly apologetic as he checked his watch once more.

"W-why do you care?"

"That's a loaded question. But I'm afraid that it doesn't matter, kid. Sorry about this," Eraserhead glared at him, his eyes turning red and his hair floating upward.

It took Bakugou a second, but then he realized what was happening, "Nonononononon-"

The world froze.

Then came the slow torture, pure agony ripping him apart. Piece by piece, atom by atom, it felt like it would never end. And for all he knew, it wouldn't. He was dragged in all directions, a constant tug-of-war where there was no winner, and he would just be pulled apart. Bakugou couldn't even register the fatigue that washed over him in waves as the pain grew to unbearable levels. Please just let him die, nothing was worth suffering this.