What Is A Hero?

Part 2: Chapter 22

"Afraid, you say?" Bakugou repeated, raising an eyebrow in triumph. "So you're admitting it now. You had such a hard time saying it before, making excuses like 'you can't' and that dramatic nonsense you said when All Might interrogated you."

Izuku stepped back, too speechless to accept the truth or deny it. However, undeniably, Bakugou only spoke facts. He hated to admit this, but Katsuki read him like a book.

"That's--"

He couldn't find the words, as expected. He felt as if he was burning up again. He's so annoying, why does he need to be so nosy. This is my business. This is all his fault, I'm the one who should be belittling him.

I'm the one who should be talking him down for the mistakes he made, for forgetting about me, for pushing me to that point--

No, wait--

"You were thinking something like that, right?" Bakugou said, smirking. 

Izuku flinched as his eyes widened. 

"Until the very end, you tried to blame things on others." Bakugou shrugged his shoulders, "Though, I did say I've done things that deserve your hatred, blaming me for everything won't work. You're the one who did 'it'."

Izuku bit his lip, looking at the ground. He tried to block out what Katuski said, but something kept him from doing so. His words were compelling, one would say. Especially to Izuku, who never dared to admit that he was running away from his emotions and not taking responsibility for the consequences that followed after - ignoring his wrongdoings of the past and his life as a villain. 

"All you're doing now is trying to justify why you're a coward."

"Stop calling me that," Izuku murmured. His wide eyes shifted from tile to tile, unable to keep his vision's focus constant. "Isn't it natural to be afraid? Can't I pity myself and pretend that she's the same kind mother that would forgive me. If I go there, I'm scared I would get my answer." 

Why am I telling him this? Izuku shut his eyes closed; he only heard their breathing in the silence.

"Izuku," Bakugou said, finally breaking the silence.

The way he called him caused Izuku to immediately look up. That hint of solemnity laced his voice once again, this time it was clear as day.

"There's nothing wrong with pitying yourself but doing that only gets you so far. You can't be feeling sorry for yourself forever and thinking that everything is just my fault - or your old man's," he said, but quickly added a click of his tongue.

"Tch, just do whatever you want! It's not my business if you want to keep living in a shell." He pointed an accusing finger at Izuku, "But don't you dare drag Aunt Inko in your mess like before!"

After saying that he turned around, while adding his last words. "And who says that Aunt Inko changed!?"

Izuku blinked his bleary eyes several times as he watched Bakugou stomped off. Staring at his back like that, he felt a sense of deja vu. Yet, this moment was new to him; this side of Bakugou was new to him.

And so, he stared into space for the entirety of the few minutes left of lunchtime. The bell that rang across U.A hadn't even fazed him. He remained idle where he stood. 

"Deku?" He heard her voice, oddly sweeter than he remembered and comforting. 

Ochako Uraraka neared him with a look of concern. His unexpressive face - void of the happiness he always carried around - must have been worrying to her. 

"What's wrong?" She asked, extending a hand to touch his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

That moment, a wave of emotions and thoughts overflowed his mind. Nothing was more comforting than her, her warmth and genuine questions. It was dangerous too, because at any second, he knew he would break.

Uraraka gasped. "Izuku, are you--"

He couldn't hold back his tears anymore and sobs escaped his lips before he could stop himself. When last did he really cry? Was it the days when he first took refuge at the League of Villains? He recalled Shigaraki being a brat from the very first meeting, but above all memories, the most bitter was the days he fell asleep crying. 

No-one comforted him on those cold nights.

No-one will. He understood one of those nights in that windowless room.

But then, why was someone hugging him, while he whimpered and cried his heart out?

She gently patted him, drawing circles on his back and waited for his cries to fade into small hiccups. And she held his hand, whispering to him that they were late for class and everything would be alright.