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Katsuki shouted furiously, destroying everything around him with his explosions.
The grass, burned; the trees, splinters; what had once been his house, rubble.
When nothing was left that could explode, he dropped to his knees, pulled on his hair until it was pulled out, and kept screaming. He didn’t stop even when he tasted his own blood.
As he relieved himself, his fury went to frustration, frustration to despair and despair ended in cry.
At that moment Katsuki, the great and incredible Bakugou Katsuki, could only cry and moan in pain.
Not because of his throat or any other injury in his body. Those had no point of comparison to the raw pain that flooded him.
He had failed. Katsuki had failed again. How many times were they already? It had been a long time since he had lost count. He was a real useless one, weren’t he?
This time it seemed that finally, after so much time - years? - of effort, he was going to achieve it. He had been the one who had lasted the longest, filling Katsuki’s shattered heart with hope.
But everything ended up spoiling in the end, like all the other times.
Why? Why did it always have to end like this? Why could he never change it?
He had tried everything, from doing something new and different, to repeating the same line changing the details, till he run out of what ifs every time he returned to the past.
Nothing had worked.
Little by little, Katsuki was shrinking, snuggling on the floor in a fetal position, his moans inaudible, tears dry, eyes swollen, mouth bloody, heart broken and soul empty.
And how all the previous times, how all the times he had failed, he saw them. They were standing around him.
All his failed attempts, all those he hadn’t been able to save.
All the Izukus he had seen die.
His version as a child drowned, run over, burned. His version of middle school mutilated, hanged, turned into nomu. His version of UA crushed, impaled, raped. Its adult version torn in half, dismembered, eaten alive.
Katsuki had seen Izuku die in a thousand different ways, in all his ages.
And he had never been able to save him.
He had tried so many times that he wasn’t able to see all the Izukus that were there, rows and rows around him.
One of the Izukus approached him.
Young, shorter than him, thin, dark circles under his eyes, black middle school uniform, head slightly squeezed, his green curls stained with his own blood. His image will always be engraved in Katsuki’s memory.
After all, he was the first, crashing on the ground in front of him after jumping from the school’s rooftop.
Izuku crouched down beside him, staring into his eyes, his lifeless green emeralds reflecting an inhuman coldness.
"It doesn’t matter what you do Kacchan, I will always die"
Katsuki's vision began to blur, the pain in his chest accentuating.
"You will never be able to save me"
Every word took the air out of him, stab wounds in his chest, tearing him.
"You know Kacchan..."
Blood pulsed in his temples, he could barely make out Izuku in front of him.
"I would still be alive if I had never met you"
Katsuki abandoned himself to the darkness, wishing he were dead.