![]() ![]() ![]() not in the darkest seconds when he feels dazai’s reign over him like a hand gripped around his throat, not since he trained kyouka in the same manner that he was brought up in. if anything akutagawa is far less beaten down than he was before, even if he still trains himself until he can’t breathe. nothing was better when dazai was an executive. The grey morning topples for grey mourning, replacing a tincture of loneliness with a plethora of longing. “ until then, you should really drink this … you’ve got to be dehydrated by now. ” become a top hero like we always planned, save the world, and never look back. so it’s okay, right ? it’s gonna be over soon and you can forget about all of this and move on. “ i know - they’ll come rescue you, it’s only a matter of time. ” he approaches with caution once again, given that bakugo has quieted down. maybe he should be more compassionate - resurrection is horrific, it sickened him the first time he woke and the mirror no longer remembers the boy that used to look into it. after everything he’s done to izuku, nothing changed, izuku still tried and failed to save his life - quirkless and all. the fear he felt for kacchan, the fear he felt from him. he remembers the day he died, he recalls the tense moments leading up to it. Izuku can’t help the frown that pulls down on his cheeks, brows that furrow with worry as he sheepishly examines his old best friend. “ whatever bullshit you’re trying to pull… i don’t buy it. Katsuki starts to breathe in deeply, voice gruff but lower in volume to not bring any more witness to this. he opens his eyes, still looking down, and convinces himself that he’s only shaking ( as slight as it is, the metal clinks undeniably in his tremble ) from trying not to puke without having a way to wipe his own mouth. ” an empty threat, there’s nothing he can do as he is now. shit, his breathing is more agitated, panicked. ( flashes of a thick and dark substance, restraining and drowning him, flashes of light that did nothing to prevail, and the aftermath of a body too frail, too quiet, too still… ) there it is again, the rise of bile, and he closes his eyes tight shut and faces down. Red gaze is wide, follow without blinking, until he couldn’t bear to witness anymore. are they fucking with him? but how would they… how could they know? the boy in front of him moves with the same erratic and nervous motion, same voice and intonation, an almost perfect copy - but what other less intense images can conjure in the mind when confronted with a walking memory / a living corpse ? Katsuki felt his tongue run dry, he thinks of using his teeth to make the skin bleed in order to swallow something the pain can be a pinch, remind him that he’s awake. A recovery, a quick comeback from this imposter’s mouth, hushed but so hasty that it stopped Katsuki in his tracks for a moment at least. ![]()
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