𝔸 𝔾𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤 𝕆𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕍.𝟚 💥𝔹𝕜𝔻𝕜💥

Chapter 3

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Clocks Ticking

Katsuki dragged Deku into the widest part of the cavern he'd woken up in, cursing under his breath as he nearly tripped over Deku's amputated limb for the second fucking time that day. Izuku's eyes widened in horror as realizes it's his mutilated arm, causing a wave of nausea. He gags, once, twice before retching, his stomach revolting against the gruesome image. The motion made him wither in pain. Seriously?

But before Katsuki could casually punt the severed arm into some dark corner, Deku wiped his mouth on his shoulder, determined to regain his composure. With a shaky voice, Deku insisted on keeping the arm, a desperate hope for reattachment. Grinding his teeth, Katsuki muttered a stream of curses, but reluctantly moved the limb closer, covering it with whatever he could find. He really didn't want to sit there and have to stare at that thing.

"Why the hell would you need the other arm? You're just as damn useless with both, Deku." Katsuki shot back, his words dripping with bitter sarcasm.

For what felt like an eternity, Katsuki surveyed the claustrophobic pocket that felt like a damn prison with every passing moment. There was no visible way in or out, except for a narrow opening on the left side above them—too damn tight to maneuver himself and the stupid nerd through.

Somewhere in the distance, the building continued its collapse, sending shudders through their little pocket. He tried the earpieces provided before the battle for what felt like the hundredth time, but it was as useless as the vast majority of stupid shitty support items they made at UA, it was one of the reasons Katsuki hated relying on anything but himself. Useless, fuckin' support items were always a piece of shit. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

Groaning, he pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. The notion of leaving Deku behind and finding an escape route danced at the edge of his mind, it was tempting but a surge of guilt and loyalty snuffed it out. They were in this together, for better or worse. And right now, it seemed like the latter.

They were unequivocally fucked. Earlier while he was digging through debris, Katsuki had nearly brought the damn roof down upon them. A sudden shout from Deku spurred by Danger Sense going berserk set Katsuki off—frustration and fear pulsing through every word, telling him to go to hell and shut the fuck up.

Katsuki's crimson eyes scanned the debris-littered room one last time, irritation furrowing his brow. He was the one who always had a plan, the one who never backed down from a challenge, but here he was, trapped in this suffocating darkness with no way out. The desire to run his fingers through his ash-blond hair hit him, but the sight of his hand, smeared with a combination of dirt and caked blood, stayed his motion.

Katsuki grimaced as he absentmindedly rubbed the grime on his hands between his fingers, feeling the stickiness of the blood that coated his skin. His thoughts involuntarily drifted to the significant amount of blood Deku had lost, and he glanced over at the discarded severed arm.

What if he hadn't bothered to look for him? The idiot probably would've bled out by now. How would he have felt if he had found Deku had bled out and died?

Katsuki scowled, trying to convince himself that he probably wouldn't give a damn if he found Deku lifeless. He didn't care about people, that's just how he was. Deep down, though, he wasn't entirely sure.

As he continued to rub the grime between his fingers, his crimson eyes flickered with a conflict of emotions, a mixture of irritation and an unspoken concern that he refused to acknowledge. The dried blood on his hand seemed to mock him, a shitty reminder of the thin line between indifference and something he couldn't quite put into words.