Katsuki Noumu (Krbk)

Pt12. Training

Katsuki crashes onto his bed with an arm across his eyes, sighing deeply. He's always been at his worst right after gaining a new power, but e doesn't understand why it's weighing on him so much heavier than any other time before. 

When he woke up in the early hours of the morning, he remembers having no control of his body or even his thoughts. He can only recall the feeling of anger and fear and pain; he wanted to get rid of anyone that tried to touch him and he didn't care how animalistic he looked trying.

He bites his lower lip in frustration when he feels a blade grow from his forearm. He hasn't gotten the time to get a handle on it yet. Getting a new quirk is just the same as a child getting their own quirk, it's new and confusing, and he never has control right away. He sits up and looks down at hit, running his fingers over it's surface.

His eyes blur as he gets a better grip on it's edge, a shaky huff of breath leaves his mouth. Though its painful and though he knows it will be no use at all, Katsuki attempts to force it away, pushing even when the rim of it starts to break the skin of his fingers. He only grits his teeth harsher and holds back the moisture in his eyes from plunging down his face. It hurts, the blade biting at his fingers and making him bleed, of course it hurts. But he's all too frustrated and defeated to care, he's hurting in a much different way than just a bit of blood dripping onto his sheets. 

The pressure he's forced onto the now gore-painted knife in his grasp slipped away from him and the weapon didn't recede. He pushes the back of his lacerated hand to his eyes, brushing away the wetness of tears as he coughed up a few violent sobs. 

Overwhelmed is the only way to describe how he's feeling. The secrets he's kept, the secrets he hasn't kept, his fears, anxiety, pain, devastation, loneliness. It's too much. Too damn much, he repeats mindlessly with his back arched, the knife painted red still present in his skin.

It's only an hour later that he falls into a deep slumber, and with these thoughts still prominent in his mind, his dreams aren't pleasant. 

He sees many faces around him, some he can put a name to, others he cant. And they're all caked in blood. It looks horrible, what happened to them, as if it were the most painful deaths for them all. As for Katsuki, all he feels looking at them is guilt, he knows it was him that did this to them and that it was his choice. His eyes catch when they land on Kamakiri's face, all soaked in blood and his eyes are still open and blankly locked with Katsuki's. 

The pressure of guilt and disgrace linger over him with a dark weight, his arms nearly give way as he avoids being crushed but he's soon swallowed up and drowning regardless.

The feeling washes away as quick as it started as he awakes in a slight stir, the memory of the dream already fading when he finds the strength to open his eyes. The heaviness in his chest doesn't leave though. 

Glancing toward the clock hanging on his wall, he finds that it's only one am and still very much dark out. As he sits up in bed, he notices the blade in his arm had dissipated but his sheets wore a few tears, his clothes as well, telling him that the new quirk had activated in his sleep. He pushes himself from the bed quickly and leaves, going into the kitchen.

He hears his father on the phone somewhere else in the house and pays little mind, finding something to snack on back in his room.

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Satsuki enters his nephews room considerately slow and quiet, expecting him to still be sleeping at the ripe hour of six in the morning. But he finds his bed empty and steps in more alarmed. "Katsuki?," he asks but he sees him when he turns his head.