Patchwork

Prologue

Author's note:  This is the beginning of the Bad end timeline, so do not confuse it with the current timeline's events.

Also, there is a trigger warning in this episode for suicidal thoughts and the negative mindset that comes with it, so please take care of yourself.

'...I want to go somewhere nice'

Midoriya looked downwards. If he was lucky, it would be quick and painless. If he was right, then everything would be fixed.

He was nothing but a stain on this world. A burden, a worthless existence, to his mother, to his long lost friend, and to himself.

He would never amount to anything, he knew, his dreams had no meaning, and neither did the possibles futures that would have brought others comfort, but that contrastingly, only served to further cement the conclusion that his existence was on principle, a parasitic one, that even if he were to push onwards into a stable, ordinary life, it would be achieved by taking another one's kindness, more importantly, his mother's kindness.

He had heard it so many times, yet in his vehement denial, he had longed to find evidence for his persistent, naive hopes.

Give up, they said. Be realistic, they advised, you're a burden whenever you go, they repeated, and really, he should have accepted it a long time ago.

Kacchan was right.

Midoriya shuddered, feet right at the edge of the precipice. It seems, he never stopped being afraid of life.

But this was death they were talking about.

He'd thought about this far too much, like a favored, ancient book, read from right to left, from end to beginning, until the pages detached and fell onto the floor.

He was done ruminating.

Muddy green eyes closed, if he pretended enough, he could almost believe this was peaceful.

A socked foot wandered over the edge.

Nobody had come to stop him, nobody had ever noticed his plight, and no one had ever cared about something as inconsequential as the death of a quirkless kid.

But his mother wasn't like that, he reasoned, and it was due to this that he had gathered his resolve in the first place, for, perhaps now his mother would cry at his absence, but wouldn't she feel relief at being absolved of her responsibility as a mother? She would certainly not miss the constant fighting against an educational system that did not care, against a world that did not want him.

He hated to see her cry for someone like him.

She would be fine, he had concluded. His mother was the strongest woman in the world to him, after all.

Midoriya did not cry, he'd exhausted his tears at this point.

There was nothing to be sad about.

For one last time, he observed the darkening sky, appreciated the chill of the nightly winds, and admired the distant buzzing lights of a city that would continue without him.

It was late, everyone had gone home by now, and yet here he stayed, his cowardly heart grasping onto procrastination like a lifeline, delaying what he had been planning to do.