You Suck Deku

1 - Searching For A Reason Why

The rain hits the black umbrellas, the small impacts reverberating in the handles as people stand in the wet grass. 

The smell of rain and dirt fills his nose as he breathes in and out. No one is speaking aside from small whispers covered by the sound of the rain. 

But what it fails to cover is the cries and sobs of others who were deeply impacted by these events. He was impacted too, but he knows it was his fault all of this happened. 

His aunt, the women who gave him warm hugs and spicy cookies whenever she could, is sobbing so hard her small body is shaking almost violently. 

Her hands are on her face, digging her fingers into the flesh of her cheeks. She lets out cries that only a mother could make. So gut wrenching and pained that it makes Katsuki half convinced that she's the one who's dying. 

Maybe she is. At least halfway dead. He had heard somewhere that losing a child is one of the most painful things someone could go through. 

Guess that checks out. 

His parents are on opposite sides of her, trying to get her to stand up despite their own tears. She doesn't though, shaking and practically screaming.

He looks away from them. 

The rain hadn't stopped since this morning, and it looks like it doesn't plan to. It was fitting. Deku would have said some shit about it being a perfect day for a funeral, but then throw a fit about it being rainy on his funeral. 

He would probably bitch about his casket being closed even though it was his own fault his body was too splattered to show the public. 

"My mom won't get to see me Kacchan! It isn't fair!" 

Though maybe he would have said something different. Maybe he wouldn't have thrown a fit. The last days Katsuki had seen him, he wasn't himself. He was cold. Moody. Blank. 

Like someone trying to copy being Deku but missing the spark and over all Deku-ness. 

He thought something was going on with Aunt Inko, but he never got to ask. It's not like the reason is rocket science. 

It was his fault. 

It was his fault that Inko, bright and always smiling, was now crying her heart out in the wet grass, getting drenched in the rain. 

It was his fault that his mom, someone who had always known what to say, was struggling to comfort her best friend that had lost her child. Even his dad, the anchor to the Bakugo family, was at a loss. 

And it's his own fault that he's looking straight at Izuku Deku Midoriya's casket. The smooth wood is the only thing not getting wet in the rain, protected by a small blue tarp that is supported by small white poles.

The only reason he is able to see all of this right now is because, shitty, useless, dead Deku, still had enough patience or whatever the hell it was, to leave out all of the messed-up shit he did in his suicide note. 

He had seen it at the police station the day it happened. 

"I'm sorry and i love you. To Mom, Aunt Mitsuki, Uncle Masaru, and Kacchan." 

And now, because of that, he speaks. 

He had written the eulogy because, well who else was going to? His mom was too distraught to, and Katsuki was the only person they said made sense. That made him feel even worse. 

The only person that was considered worthy enough to say the last words at his funeral was his bully. 

He had spent hours trying to figure out what to say. He didn't deserve to even speak. The words feel trapped in his throat, but he forces them out anyway. 

He focuses on the paper in his hands. He had made sure that it stayed safe from the rain on the way here. 

"Izuku Midoriya was... bright." 

Fucking lame, he knows it. But it's the only thing he could think to say. He isn't going to spill his guts out for everyone to see. Not here.

He isn't going to say all he wants to say, because then... 

then he would be even more of a piece of shit. 

"He was always shining. Even when things were shit, he was one of the few people i knew who would always bounce back." 

Its gross. It leaves a nasty taste on his tongue. 

All of it is a lie. Every day was shit for him because of Katsuki, and talking about Deku in the past tense just feels so fucking wrong. He didn't always bounce back. This was the result of that. There was clear proof literally right in fucking front of him. 

"It was what made him... Izuku." 

Disgusting liar. 

"And he was the type of person who would worry about other people more than himself, even now. Even when we were kids, he was like that."

That would be true, except for the fact that Katsuki had seen his last days alive. Had seen the decline. Had seen the change. 

"Even if..." 

He hates how his voice cracks. 

"Even if he was dealing with things we would never understand," 

Katsuki feels especially bad for this line. 

"He would want us to smile and remember him how he lived, and not how he died. He would want us to remember and think about him in our hearts."

Katsuki finally has enough balls to look away from the paper and to the small group of people in the attendance. Inko is staring at him like he's a god, grasping at his every word with tears rushing down her bloodshot eyes. 

He combs over the rest of the crowd briefly. 

"He would want us to keep on living, for him and for ourselves." 

His eyes stare directly at two people in the crowd. 

Wearing middle school uniforms, they grin and wave at Katsuki as if it's just another arcade hang out.

The rain has not paused for even a moment.