SOLD

Break

Cuz I'm one step closer to the edge, and I'm about to...

~~~

"Thought I'd find you here," a gruff voice speaks up, whether laced with grief or that stupid act to make him appear to have no weaknesses. 

It had barely been an hour since the meeting was called off. Its true purpose was to ensure everyone was okay and whether there was any post of reasonable importance that needed to be filled, or any disabilities that they all needed to be aware of. Two weeks should have been enough for them to recover on paper, but the truth is that they needed far longer. Years.

No one knew about Sero. The advisors were too busy recovering from their own trauma from the shudder of explosions through the ground. Or the ringing gunshots. Or the moment where you find out your best friend didn't survive, and yet it had to be their life instead of yours. It was Ashido who cracked, shrieking through gritted teeth with clenched fists as she revealed the burdening truth to all of them - Sero was gone, and he will never be coming back.

No one intended to fill his space among the advisors. Not any time soon.

Izuku doesn't dare turn to face the intruder. He remained facing Ochako's grave, his head resting against his knees as he hugs his leg closer into his body, his eyes swollen, though nothing falls from them.

His tear ducts were squeezed dry.

The feeling came in waves, though currently it was on a low. The random periods where Izuku is reminded of the loss. How is it that everyone around him dies, and yet he's the only one who survives, and keeps surviving? He thought he would get used to the feeling and that, sooner or later, he wouldn't be phased of the vicious hands of death snatching away the people around him, varying from his closest friend, to those he had only started getting to know, to an entire community.

His old home.

And he was just fortunate enough to have escaped the same fate.

Every fucking time.

He was lucky he'd escaped so unharmed that day! There, the Alpha stood, having been stabbed straight through the chest and forced to protect him. A useless Omega.

It was a continuous pattern. The more people who die around him, the more Izuku hates himself. And this torturous cycle continues, making him lose and lose and lose again, never obtaining the material to patch up the leak or fill in the cavity. Smooth out the scratches that have been engraved by the merciless claws of guilt.

He's tired of it.

Of staying alive.

He remembers that smirk. That iconic smile. The ringing laughter and the teases he'd throw at Bakugo, especially to annoy him. He was that person in the room who kept everyone together. The silent being who radiated positive energy. Never once argued, or picked up a fight. Always having a loose demeanour.

He never realised how little he knew about him. And only now that there's no longer a body to bury, he can only regret the time he didn't spend talking to Sero. They would have been friends!

They could have been friends.

"We need to get you inside."

His voice cuts through the silence like a knife.

Izuku doesn't move.

"C'mon," he urges.

Seconds later, Bakugo is already moving to pick Izuku up, his arms threading under his shoulders. It doesn't take long to drag him back inside to avoid the light shower outside, glaring at anyone who looks his way as he takes the most scenic and quiet route to Izuku's dorm.