"Sometimes words are enough to murder.."

Be careful..

- SaltyCandy -

A/N: Heya! This is my very first Boku no Hero Academia fanfic! This is kinda inspired by how Bakugou blamed himself for All Might's retirement and yes, maybe I did make him OOC here (Midoriya was OOC here too, tbh. We all know he wouldn't kill himself nor would he ever truly hate Bakugou). I thought a person - even Bakugou - would act differently if he happen to realize that his words just made someone commit suicide. Especially if said someone is/used to be his friend. They're still at middle school here, y'all know 'that' scene. Rated M for obvious reasons.

Disclaimer: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia and its characters belongs to Horikoshi Kohei. I, therefore, do not own it.

= I'm sorry, Izuku =

Bakugou Katsuki sat up from his bed, his eyes burning red. He let out a growl at the powerful knock that he'd been trying to ignore for the last five minutes. Calls of his name and other sentences from the door continuously slipped off his mind. He closed his eyes once more, a bit more forced this time. Still trying not to acknowledge the presence of the person on the other side, he went back to bed —tried to.

The door finally slammed and he was left no choice but to stare at the figure of the ashen blonde in full black. Her hair and facial features seeming like a mirror of his, or was it the other way around?

Her eyes, to say the least, had more bags under them than his own. Hesitation was obvious on them the moment they look at his. Her features portraying a mix of anger, grief, and disappointment.

"You're going with me," she said resisting a shake in her breath. She was struggling to stand straight, as if her shoulders were burdened.

Katsuki merely bit his lip. He, too, wasn't able to keep his eyes looking straight at hers. Not after what happened. "I'm not," he weakly answered.

"Katsuki, you have to," she said with an unusual softness. "This is the least we can do for them... for him," her voice cracked at the last part, to her disdain.

"I told you, I'm not going," he answered seething his teeth. The usual bite in his words nowhere to be heard.

"Katsuki! You know full well that it's your—"

"—fault?! Is that what you're going to say?!"

Her eyes widened in horror at her own words. She schooled her expression as she tried the sentence once again, "He's your friend, Katsuki, and we're going whether you like it or not!" The door was slammed once again, close this time.

And once again, Katsuki was left with his own thoughts.

He laid down on his bed with much force that it creaked. He covered his eyes with his pale arm, seeming to be covered in bruise.

What was it that made Katsuki say those words to him? What was it that pushed him to suggest that Deku should jump from their school's rooftop as a solution for being quirkless? Why, of all people, did Deku have to do what Katsuki told him to do? Why didn't he retaliate? — Did Katsuki even want him to? — Why didn't he stand up for himself? — Did he like the name Deku so much that he didn't even try to be something else? — Why didn't he prove Katsuki wrong? — Was that what Katsuki really hoping for? — He just committed suicide exactly the way Bakugou suggested him to. And among everyone, of all the people in the world, Deku had to be Deku and actually end his life without a second thought.

He recalled them, the reaction of Midoriya Inko — the kind and strong mother of Deku who was one of the few people his own mother actually trusted — the moment she saw Katsuki. The rage in her eyes, the painful sharpness in her words, the atrocious killing intent he never knew she had. It was all there, along with the same notebook he burned and tossed off the window the same day, the one she made him read.

There were traces of dried blood at the cover — which made sense since he was said to be holding unto it as he jumped — mockingly reminding him of his sin. No. 13 — the westerners must be right, thirteen was an unlucky number — was printed at the front. There were a lot of leaves dedicated to his passion, his unmatched admiration of different pro heroes despite not having a quirk. Katsuki had told him — quite a hundred of times since they were four — that he wasn't suited for it. He couldn't be a hero. He wasn't meant to be a hero. Yet he held onto his dream.

The last sheet was where the most important portion was; Midoriya Izuku's dying message. Scanning it, Katsuki passed through the note for his parents — not even having the will to read them. He felt like the air around him got snatched away as he finally found the part specifically for him.

'Lastly, don't ever let HIM in my funeral.'

There wasn't a name. Not a single Katsuki nor Kacchan was mentioned. Yet the insinuation was clear. It was burned, soaked, crumpled, yet the writings could still be easily read. The lead was pointing to him. Only him.

Before he even closed it, he accidentally flipped on a page that caught his attention. He felt his eyes widen at what presented before him. His chest felt like it was slowly getting shredded from the inside with every word and diagram. From that, Katsuki could tell, the most painful part wasn't the last lines themselves, it was one of the pages before it.

The page where Katsuki's quirk was explained in great apprehension — only depending on assumptions that was far from truth — and how he used it. The page where he was drawn in great detail. The page where he was praised with awe as if he was one of the known pro heroes of their generation. The very same slightly crumpled page with the words, 'My best friend' in it. And the same one with the pieces of their torn innocent picture ten years ago.

Katsuki turned on his left at the surge of memories. He tried suppressing what was to come next, to no avail. He wished that the thing he'd recall was that one time when Midoriya tried to save him when he fell to that stream, but it wasn't. What he recollected was the wide smile the greenet provided him every time Katsuki invited him to play by the forest, the laughs that they shared as they pass each other their toys, the stories that they exaggeratedly reenact to make them seemed cooler, the times they voiced out their admiration of the number one hero whenever he was on the news... All of them portraying the fun-loving peaceful Midoriya. He wasn't the kind to hate. He wasn't the kind to loathe. He was nothing like what he wrote on that page. He might not be the one who wrote that at all. That couldn't be him hating on Katsuki. He can't be the one antagonizing him. He was Deku. Good for nothing Deku who couldn't accept reality yet stayed nice anyways. The Deku who was generous to everyone; who would give despite gaining nothing. Deku was that one person who stuck by him despite his abuse. Deku was that one person who truly cared. Deku was... his friend.

Before he knew it, tears started falling. The burning sensation from his eyes even reaching the arm covering half his face. Was it really him? Was Katsuki really at fault? Did he really want Deku to die when he told him to kill himself?

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he did kill Deku. Maybe Deku did hate him for it. And maybe... he did deserve that.

He bit his lip in vain. He clutched his chest, gripping it with the small amount of strength left in his person. The sobs he was repressing finally escaped his mouth. They resounded on the room as they continued uncontrolled. Tears fell without pause as he felt himself drown in agony. With unequal breath, he opened his mouth to speak. Uttering only the words he could think of.

"I'm sorry, Izuku."

= Fin =

A/N: I can't stop thinking on how there are some things that are wrong here but I can't exactly pinpoint what they are so constructive criticisms are really appreciated!