, hysteria, and gore.

_____

Pain is

loud.

But i will scream

louder.

of rushed footsteps echoed throughout the hall, the result of Izuku's hurried sprinting.

Izuku entered his room in a hurry, slamming the door behind him and sliding down to the floor.

This was getting repetitive. This was getting old.

Laughter surged through Izuku's mouth, a burning sense of self loathing settling in the emptiness of his chest as he gasped for air.

He wanted to stand up for himself better. He wanted to shut down Camie with force.

But all he felt, all he seemed to know ever since that fateful night, was fear.

He had run away from the conflict out of sheer fear, and he hated himself for it.

Izuku's phone began to ring. He hiccupped, pulling it out to stare at the screen.

Five missed calls from Katsuki.

Izuku chuckled for the umpteenth time.

I'm an easy target. Always have been, always will be.

No, another part of him protested. You did all you could to defend yourself back there.

Izuku replayed every second of what had transpired in his mind, cruelly reminding himself just how awful the encounter had been. If he hadn't run back there, it'd be too easy for Camie to take him away. She'd take him away and undoubtedly violate him, further scarring him for life.

Izuku began to hyperventilate.

Camie was right. He was scared. Whether it had to do with his own weaknesses or women in particular, he couldn't truly tell.

But there was something Izuku did know. He felt fragile. Fragile and unbelievably small.

He did so much to compensate for that feeling. He tried to be strong. He tried to be dependable. He tried to be the pillar he thought Katsuki needed. He tried to blend in when he never had to try so hard to.

That facade had worked wonders for a while, but clearly the gig was up. Izuku was forced to face the very things he hated about himself– about humans. He always told Katsuki to embrace his weaknesses, but he couldn't practice what he'd preached.

Why did he ever once think he was enough for Katsuki? For anyone? He was being naive.

Izuku's laughs morphed into sobs and he held his head in his hands, clutching it harshly in an attempt to stop thinking.

He sobbed until his throat felt raw, something rising and lodging itself there until he reached a shaking hand to run the fingertips over the area.

With a nauseated groan, Izuku reached across the floor and under his bed, retrieving a pouch.

Taffy edibles, about the size of an eraser, all wrapped neatly.

Izuku ate one whole with haste, well aware of how dangerous doing that was, but he didn't care. He wanted to sleep until he'd forgotten who Katsuki even was.

He picked himself up off the floor and flung his body weight onto the edge of his messy bed, holding back the urge to vomit.

A glint caught his eye. A razor.

He hummed lazily, his eyes now dry, as he took the razor up.

He hesitated for a moment. Ultimately, he slammed the razor against the floor and removed the individual blades from it.

Garlic, Izuku thought, and ice.

Conveniently enough, a clover of garlic was on his window shelf. He had Uraraka and her witchcraft practices to thank for that.

A part of Izuku wondered why harmful tools were so easy to aquire. He also wondered why he was having this thought process. He'd never harmed himself before, so why now?

Because you've thought about it before. You just never acted on it.

Because your friends and your mother would've lost their minds.

The effects of the taffy hit with the speed and force of a fucking train. Izuku touched his face. He couldn't feel. Literally.

Izuku brought the razor down on his left arm once, dragging it across the skin there.

It... it doesn't hurt. Not like this.

He began to toe on a fine line between having a full on anxiety attack and admiring the way he managed to become so disconnected from reality in such a short time. Reaching for his phone, he sloppily texted the first number he saw several times, chucking the device across the room afterwards.

[ I feel like I can see every part of every color lol- Izukuwu

Didn't feel nothing. gonna try this again. - Izukuwu

I want to cry but I can't. I should feel grateful but somehow it's making me more miserable- Izukuwu

I can't feel my skin - Izukuwu ]

He clumsily grabbed the garlic and razor again and layed on the bed, slumping his upper body over the edge. The room whirred with every movement he made.

He could hear the violent buzzing of his phone. Who was calling him?

Izuku threw that thought process away and tried to focus again, even as his flesh pricked with anxiety and his room spun and shrank.

Izuku knew exactly what to use, since Katsuki had mentioned it once while talking about his past experiences. He fetched the now metling ice cubes on the bed and got to rubbing them on his right arm for several minutes. He then took the garlic, peeling off the paper like skin first, and rubbed the cracked clover against the small blade.

Then, with no prior thought process, he dragged the sharp material across his lower wrist, watching how the skin pulled and stuttered as he did it. He winced, bouncinb his legs with a mixture of anxiety and excitement filling his chest.

He did it again, repeating the action until his arm somewhat resembled a chess board, before moving to the other arm again.

Izuku's head felt extremely light, a mixture of his reaction to the amount of blood he was seeing and the ever-climbing high he was on. He held back the urge to throw up, inhaling deeply.

I can't feel anything. I can't feel anything yet. I can't–

Somewhere, in the back of Izuku's mind, he was aware of the knocking at his door.

"Fuck..." he swallowed down the urge to puke yet again, waving his hand behind him to shoo his unwanted guest as if whoever was on the other side would see the gesture.

The knocking persisted. "Fuck off!" Izuku slurred, borderline screaming at the person.

Ochako and Iida suddenly came bursting through the door, eyes widening in absolute shock at the scene before them.

"Izuku!" Uraraka practically screamed, but her voice faded to the back of the boy's focus.

He brought the razor down again and swiped as quickly as he possibly could before being held down by his 'nosy' friends.

"Izuku stop! What the fuck–"

Izuku felt so many sensations all at once. He felt the strong urge to vomit, the urge to cry his eyes out again, and the strongest urge to faint.

There was something so freeing about being able to control how much pain he felt. He wanted control. That control brought him a little blood, but that was a small price to pay, right?

"Izuku, what happened? What were you doing?" Uraraka shrieked, clutching on to her friend with panic and concern. Iida tried to be level headed as he attempted to clean his friend's wounds, but his hands were shaking.

Little splashes of blood were everywhere– on the white bed sheets, on the floor, and Uraraka's hands were smeared with it due to her hasty contact.

"Izuku! Are you conscious?" Iida asked desperately. Izuku's head bobbed around lazily for a lack of vocal confirmation, and Tenya held his head up to inspect his friend's face.

Izuku's eyes were blood red and so excruciatingly dry it that borderline hurt to blink.

"It's hot," he slurred, tears blurring his wobbly vision. "It burns."

Uraraka struggled to understand what her friend was mumbling about. His voice seemed to belong to a completely different being right now. Her insides twisted as she wondered what exactly had Izuku taken to become this fucked.

"It burns."

____________