#despair.arc

He almost spilled it out. The message is sitting in his drafts.

"I'm sorry, Mr. All Might. This... I was approached by Mystery and they asked me to look for information. I had no other option..."

Even though he has. He always has but he's so blind he doesn't see it. He wants to be pure, perfect, and in his eyes, he's not. He'll never be. He fails, like everyone else. This ideal hurts, but Kazuto just presses on. He knows the best comes later.

All Might has good intentions. He knows, he recalls. But what he did... was wrong. On many levels. He wonders how can he repair everything that's broken and he cries because Hawks spoke to him and he's so nervous because he's an idiot and Monoma is angry or disappointed at him and he doesn't know what to do and he wants to be back with his dad or with anyone who's willing to accept this utterly broken kid who doesn't and won't think that he's good enough to be something.

He closes his eyes, and he hopes for a better day.

But his phone won't leave him alone. It stares. Back at him. His eyes are drawn to it. He needs to tell them. That everything is going fine. An update of his current status.

He presses some keys, and types a message for Mystery.

Then, he leaves, putting on a smile, pretending, acting.

Pain. Kazuto feels pain. His heart beats because he's alive. The only proof. Breathes fine. Another proof.

Kazuto doesn't understand why he keeps coming back to this place. This abandoned house. He escaped before. He knows the consequences. He still goes because that voice in his head tells him that he's worthless and useless. That he can only kill. Kill people by accident. Kill people by choice.

It always goes back to that. Death and murder.

He doesn't knock on the door. He stands, paralyzed. The door, metallic and rusty, just like a villain's. An old one, a forgotten one. He's shivering in the cold. He knows he shouldn't be allowed to be so far away from the school. He knows that the risks overwhelm the benefits. An easy fix for a week of isolation. Marks in his body he knows he can't cover. The mistakes he makes keep piling up.

And up. And up. And up up up up upupupupup...

The door opens, screeching. Kazuto feels the fingers on his face. They smell like plastic, like the kind that reminds you of a toy. The same thing that you hope reawakens some old memories.