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It was night, and raining when Katsuki finally got on patrol. Not his ideal weather for patrolling, but he can't really complain. He has been out of commission for the past week and a half because a building fell on him, and thanks to the healers at General Hospital, he had a fast healing period, but the recovery was a bitch.
The rain continued pouring from the night sky as if it were mourning the sun, waiting for it to reappear. Katsuki also missed the sun, but he didn't miss the stares that he got while in the sunlight. It was constant and only in the sun. Sometimes, when he was still at the hospital, he could feel the same watchful eyes on him through the window, in the shadows, or when he shut his eyes, pretending to sleep. It was useless trying to catch a mere glimpse of what or who was watching him, because they always disappeared when he looked in the general direction the gaze came from.
He was unsettled by the eyes and the mystery behind them; what was their motive? To kidnap him? Kill him? Or was it just shy admiration? Katsuki wasn't sure, but he hated that he couldn't see who the gaze belonged to; it was driving him insane.
By the time he got back to his apartment, the sun had already risen, and the blonde was exhausted, foregoing the routine of showering and eating before he passed out on the couch, not after laying down a blanket so he wouldn't dirty the fabric. The night was uneventful, but even on his still recovering body, despite being already healed, he knew he had overexerted himself from patrol; he knew that, yet he couldn't help but punish himself for not pushing harder, to go after villains even in the dead of night, where even they would sleep, waiting to start their plans in the morning.
Katsuki drifted off to sleep with the harsh thoughts, his brows furrowed at the shift of his winter costume against his skin, and he curled into a ball, his gauntlets resting beside his head and his legs tucked up the best he could with the fabric of his hero costume in the way. I'll shower tomorrow, he told himself, smirking at the words before correcting his internal thoughts. Or today, I guess..
Before he could fully drift, the feeling of being watched washed over him in waves of anxiety, nervousness, and.. excitement? He didn't react, but he so desperately wanted to; if this time, he could see the color of the others' eyes, reading intentions in their gaze.
But he passed out, cursing himself once more for being too tired, and for not forcing himself to look.
"Take a swan dive off the roof of the building," Katsuki joked, smirking triumphantly as the two minions laughed.
The freckled teen, or Deku, sniffed, pressing his palm to the gash on his forehead. The rest of his body wasn't looking the best either. His clothes burned in places, cuts littered his arms, torso, and thighs, and his other hand was broken after the guy with black hair on Katsuki's left had just stepped on it.
Katsuki clicked his tongue, scoffing as he nodded to the other guy with grey hair on his right. "Pathetic, Deku. I can't believe you can even think of becoming a hero when you can't do shit to defend yourself."
Deku sniffed again, looking up through his lashes as fresh tears clung to them.
"Please, Kacchan. St-op! I-I didn't-"
"D-d-didn't what, Deku?"
The kid with grey hair knelt beside Deku, holding the blood-stained pocket knife in front of wide, terrified green eyes. Katsuki's grin widened manically at the sight. He felt powerful as he stood over the trembling teen. They were in the boys' bathroom outside of the main building, and it was after school. It was the perfect time to beat the living hell out of this damned Quirkless loser.
The blond scoffed again, nodding once more to the grey-haired teen where he crouched by Deku's trembling form. "What I thought. Do it again."
Deku paled, flicking his gaze to the other crouched by him. His left eye was clamped shut to keep the blood out from the huge gash, leaving his right eye the only good one. Panic filled his green eyes once more, and the tears along his water line fell over as the knife neared his body.
Deku's body trembled, and he shook his head as desperate pleas left his lips. He tried to use his broken hand to help his body scoot further, crying in pain each time, and his panicked breaths came quicker.
"No! No, no- Kacchan! St-Stop! Please, please, Kacchan! What- no, no-"
Katsuki's stomach twisted at the sight, sneering at the other's pathetic, desperate pleas while watching Deku's pathetic display, an attempt to move away from his inevitable punishment. He watched as the gray-haired loser continued to tease Deku until Katsuki snapped at him to 'get to the good part,' watching from a small distance as he cut up the freckled teen more. The other guy looked to Katsuki, then joined in on messing up Deku, throwing punches and making sure the rings he brought would be put to use, creating more deep cuts on pale skin.
The queasy feeling continued to invade his stomach, and he had to turn away. He wasn't sure what brought on this feeling, but he couldn't bear to look any longer.
That didn't stop another feeling creeping up behind him, landing on his back and sending a shiver up his spine.
The blonde looked over his shoulder, and his body went rigid.
Hate.
Disdain.
That's all Katsuki saw, and his heart raced.
Even as Deku was getting battered and bruised, those damn, creepy, big emerald eyes had darkened into deep pine, sharp like branches.
Admiration was no longer held in those eyes when the other looked at him past the two bodies.
All that held was a dark promise as blood dripped from a freckled, bruised forehead down his cheeks, and past his chin to his throat.
No, that look...
It looked like he wanted to kill Katsuki in that moment.
The next morning, Katsuki found himself.. in his bed?!
The blonde quickly sat upright, groaning at the pounding of his head and the dark blue and black squares filling his vision. He held his hand to his face, digging his palms into his eyes to hopefully subside the process until he figures out what is happening. When his head stopped pounding, he finally looked down, one eye squeezed shut from the small light trickling in through his bedroom window, hitting him square on the eye. He was shirtless, and he looked clean. Lifting the black silk sheets, he noticed that he was wearing his red plaid pj's and new boxers. Katsuki's face was scrunched in displeasure, and panic settled in his chest, cramping his lungs in his ribs. He ran out of bed, throwing his sheets to the side, running around his apartment for any obvious signs of a break-in.
Except there were no signs. Everything looked normal.
Katsuki's breathing was ragged; he gasped for air, trying not to hyperventilate. This is ridiculous, he thought, bringing a hand up through his freshly cleaned blonde spikes. I probably.. washed myself last night. And I was super tired and forgot the whole thing.. yea. The reason was half-baked, but it was enough for him to settle back into bed after he closed his blinds, locked his room, and checked under the bed.
The sun was still shining, and his clock read 13:04, but he didn't have patrol again until later tonight, so he let himself relax before doing anything around the house. His heart needed to calm down anyway; it was still pounding violently in his chest from the shift from being on the couch to his bed.
He lies on his bed, staring at his ceiling in contemplation as he tries to pin down why everything is happening. And why now?
Ever since becoming the Number Thirteen Hero in the charts, he's had an overwhelming sense of dread.
Bakugou Katsuki doesn't believe in superstitions -- they're for sissies.
Walking under ladders doesn't bring bad luck, but it's still a dangerous and idiotic thing to do, so Katsuki steers clear and walks around or blasts over them if he's in pursuit of a villain. Broken mirrors don't give you seven years of bad luck; he'd already be living in hell, the amount of shattered mirrors surrounding him after aiming powerful blasts at his target. Black cats aren't demonic. Katsuki visits one of them at the shelter every day and has been waiting for the best moment to sign adoption papers. And the Number 13 isn't bad luck.
It has been over a month since he rose to the Number 13 spot in the Hero Rank charts. And it has been over a month since the eyes started watching him. It's purely coincidental that the two happened at the same time. Nothing comes from believing in superstitions, and Katsuki is too focused on much more important matters than nonsensical lies told by scammers to scare people into buying amulets for protection. Facts and statistics matter, and rising to the top to be the best is all that he cares about.
Yet, when he's getting ready in his apartment, he couldn't help but look at the clock on the wall, 13:13.
It hasn't been that long since Katsuki last checked his phone clock, yet it felt like ages. His mind was racing, pushing down everything to focus on prepping meals and getting himself ready for work. And as he did this, those same eyes watched him. He couldn't pinpoint where they were this time, but it felt as if they were right behind him.
Katsuki started to panic again. His chest rose and fell as he tried to calm himself, but the effort was fruitless. He wanted -- no, needed -- to confront the eyes on him, but it was like his mind was screaming at him.
NO. NO. NO. DON'T LOOK.
Footsteps were heard against the hardwood; soft, delicate, yet full of purpose in each stride.
NO NO NO DON'T DO IT, KATSUKI.
The blonde grit his teeth, and his grip on the knife in his hand was scolding through the plastic at the activation of his Quirk.
HE'S RIGHT THERE. HE'S RIGHT THERE.
Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut when the footsteps stopped. He shivered when hot breath was met with his back, sending shivers down his muscles, rippling from the ghost of someone behind him. The other person stood there, almost like he -- he? -- was breathing him in, and he felt eyes trail down his naked back. He felt himself blush, and his eyes widened as his cheeks heated up.
The eyes never left his back, and the other touched Katsuki. The blonde gasped, gritted his teeth, and fought against the screaming thoughts and turned.
And he saw..
..nothing.
Once again, nothing was there for him to look at.
Nothing was there. Not the hot, soft breaths along his muscles, or the faintest touch on his lower back, and he heard no footsteps retreating.
Katsuki shivered, and his cheeks were still heated. He wasn't sure why he was feeling this way, the creepiest interaction he's had in the longest time, but it made his heart race, and he wasn't sure if a possible intruder or arousal feared that this was a possible intruder.
... wow. I need to get laid or something, he thought to himself, grimacing at his thought. Am I really getting turned on by some extra breaking in? What the fuck.
It continued to unsettle him, and the eyes watched him as he got ready. He couldn't see the person, staring blankly into the shadows of his room; he felt nauseous, and he thought he could see something, but it wasn't a person, or else he would have seen their outline.
No. It made his skin crawl, and alarms flashed in his mind.
He lost track of time on how long he stared at the empty corner, entranced by what he couldn't see, or appalled by what his brain didn't want to comprehend.
Eventually, he had to leave, tearing his eyes from the unsettling gaze and walking out of his room, but curiosity got the better of him.
One last time, Katsuki looked back at the corner, and he went pale. His eyes widened as his body went rigid, ready to flee if that thing moved. It wasn't a person. It wasn't even a body. It was two eyes staring at him from the shadows. The sclerae were very noticeable in the dark, almost glowing a bright white, contrasting the bright red veins surrounding the pitch-black eyes.
So much hatred poured from them into Katsuki, and he shuddered.
He quickly closed his eyes, clamping them shut and shaking his head.
No no no
Not real.
Those aren't real.
Wake up, Katsuki!
Opening his eyes once more, his body still facing the corner, the eyes had disappeared. Completely.
Katsuki stared a while longer in disbelief, then grabbed his door handle and slammed the entrance shut. He bolted to his front door, grabbing his keys, duffel bag, and gauntlets before launching himself out into the hall. His heart raced as he locked the door and ran down the hallway. He couldn't care less if people were getting ready for bed and preferred the quiet, but he was terrified and needed to get the hell out of there!
His hands fumbled with the keys as he raced to his car in the apartment building parking garage, and the feeling of being watched was back. He felt himself freezing up, but he pushed forward, stressing out even more as his heart pounded in his ears, and his stomach dropped to the floor.
He stumbled, tripped over a tiny crack, and the keys slipped from his hands. Shit shit shit-
Katsuki ran to the keys, swiping them up with sweaty palms, thankful he managed to grab them; no problem.
The thing was closer to him now, and Katsuki could hear the shuffle of shoes, the brush of clothes against one another, gain on him. Dread overcame Katsuki; every time he sped up, the other matched his new speed.
His car felt so far away, but it was supposed to be right there.
This cannot be happening.
Why is this happening?
This cannot be happening.
Finally, Katsuki reached his black Jesko -- a recent purchase after his bump in pay -- and shoved him and his things in the car. He quickly shut the door as the steps were gaining on him and locked the car door.
His heart hasn't stopped racing since this morning, and now the blonde was concerned he was about to have a heart attack from the adrenaline rush.
It was overwhelming to see how terrified he felt in that moment.
After his heart calmed, he drove out of the garage with shaky hands and his mind racing. The drive to the agency was a much-needed distraction, helping him focus more on driving and the patrol route he's taking this time.
And the continuous thoughts, trying to decipher what just happened at his apartment, gave him continuous headaches, like the mere thought of it was enough to send him reeling.
The eyes looked familiar.
Felt familiar, achingly so, and his stomach clenched at the thought, and his heart raced once more, cursing at himself for getting so worked up.
You're seeing things, Katsuki. It's normal. Happens. That.. that was nothing. Don't need to worry about it. Just focus on work.
We'll deal with it later.
Patrol wasn't that much different from the other night. Calm, distant sounds of people continuing their commute by car since the trains have closed for the night, and the cool night breeze whistled past his ears and neck, sending shivers through him.
The stars were shining brightly from where Katsuki was perched on a building, looking down over the precinct he was watching.
It was usually boring over here, especially at night, but his agency insists on taking it slow despite his protests.
At least I can start morning and afternoon patrols in two weeks, he huffed on the steaming bento in his hand, bringing rice to his lips and aggressively taking a bite with the chopsticks. The rice soothed his anxiety, the hot taste warming his body from the night air. The chicken was slightly cold, but the still-hot rice made up for it, and the spicy teriyaki sauce he had put in a mini container made it all the more worth it. He had packed himself a couple of snacks, but he figured it would be fine to eat the main dish now; he had missed breakfast and lunch, too spooked by the thing in his apartment to even think of finishing the meal he was making before work.
He took another bite, his gaze locked with the windows of the towering building next to where he perched. His legs swung gently, and he looked down at the street once more.
Another bite.
Katsuki lifted his head back, eyes shut as he hummed, then, facing the windows again, the blonde wasn't expecting much but the reflection of himself.
That wasn't the case.
Before his chopsticks were halfway from the bento to his mouth, Katsuki froze, his jaw dropping further as he noticed there was a second reflection.
Behind him.
He whipped around quickly, setting his bento on the edge and moving to stand more firmly on the roof, but no one was there. Katsuki's stomach dropped as he activated his Quirk, palms sweating and storing up in his gauntlets little by little, his face twisting into a tight snarl. His heart was racing from fear, adrenaline, and the itch to finally face the bastard that had been stalking him.
"Show yourself!" He snarled, crouching low and keeping his palms directed up in front of him. His crimson eyes scanned the empty rooftop, areas hidden by dark shadows, and the night sky was of no help in illuminating the blind spots. Katsuki shot a controlled flare to one of the shadows, his heart racing in uncertainty when it came up blank. He swore the guy was over there. He growled out, sending another flare as frustration built. "COWARD! Show yourself, you fuck! Meet me like a man, you damned stalker!"
No one answered back, and Katsuki wasn't sure if that was a good thing until the faintest shuffle alerted him and he swung around, prepared to aim a blast, but he choked, eyes widening at the person on the ledge.
Katsuki's breath hitched, and his stomach tightened.
It was a cloudy day; small rays of light shone through the clouds, but not enough for people to avoid bringing their umbrellas just in case.
School had ended a few minutes ago when Katsuki finally exited the building. It was the middle of his final year at Alderia Middle, and everything was going smoothly. His application to U.A. had been accepted, and Deku had finally given up on his dreams.
For his own good, Katsuki thought to himself, walking in front of the two extras, who think they are his friends. They immediately roped him into their conversation, telling the blonde how they were going to jump Deku after school, but no one knew where he went after class.
Katsuki clicked his tongue, groaning. He shoved his hand into his pocket, pretending to be interested. When, in actuality, he had started to turn over.
He wasn’t sure when the shift happened, but he no longer felt like picking on the nerd. If anything, it had grown dull, and the constant begging was starting to wear on him. It left a sour feeling in his stomach every time.
He opened his mouth to say something--
A scream cut through the air.
Then came the rush of something dropping fast behind him.
A sharp crack followed, with a sickening, heavy sound.
Katsuki stared at the figure.
Green, messy hair.
A black uniform..
And suddenly, it clicked.
Deku.
No, Izuku.
Midoriya.
Fuck-
"Hey!" Katsuki called out, rushing toward the figure with watery eyes. His limbs felt heavy as he grew nearer. "D-Don't! De- Izuku! Stop! Don't-"
The figure stepped off right as Katsuki reached out to grab him.
His eyes were wide, and tears streaked down his face. His breath caught, arm hovering in the air where the boy had just been standing.
He rushed to look over the side, hopping up on the ledge to see if he could make it in time to rescue him.
When he looked over the edge, all Katsuki saw were a few cars passing by under the bright lights illuminating the sidewalk and roads; no bodies falling. No corpse at the end. Just.. nothing.
Katsuki found himself hyperventilating. Removing himself from the ledge, he sat down leaning against the electrical box.
Calm down. That was nothing.
You're just worked up.
He closed his eyes, clamping them shut and holding his legs close to his chest. The rustle of his hero costume filled his ears, and he tried to focus on his clothes instead of the blood rushing in his ears. Static started to flood his senses, and his vision blurred. Nausea? Or his tears?
I'm going to throw up.
Everything was a blur.
The sirens.
The screams.
People crying.
Concerned parents.
And at the head of it all...
Laid the body of Izuku Midoriya.
Bloodied. Bruised. Cut. Broken.
Katsuki stared at that body for who knows how long, burning the memory into his brain.
The way the bones crunched.
The way his blood pooled around his body.
The way his eyes were still open and staring at him, like he was asking if this was ok.
If this is what Kacchan wanted.
The stare was full of hate and joy, and the smile was unsettling as blood trickled out through his mouth.
Police led Katsuki from the scene, and paramedics checked up on him as if he had gotten hurt, but his eyes remained transfixed on the boy who was mangled on the ground. Watching as it spasmed despite it now becoming a corpse waiting to rot.
Katsuki couldn't look away.
Katsuki didn't want to look away, but he did.
And he went home, passing his parents' and ignoring their concerns, rushing upstairs, and spilling the contents of his stomach into the toilet.
The pro wiped his mouth after emptying his guts on the rooftop, grimacing at the taste of vomit and the bento he had barely digested.
He turned, sat against the electrical box, looked up at the night sky, and sighed.
Why this? Why now?
Those thoughts flooded his mind as he tried to make sense of this.
Why was he now seeing his dead childhood best friend? The person he bullied. The person who killed himself just because Katsuki told him to.
Why is he now seeing Izuku Midoriya after all these years?
Katsuki shook his head and stood on shaky legs, patting the dirt and grime off himself from the roof, ignoring the mess he made as he quickly packed the bento still left on the ledge.
He wasn't sure if he was hallucinating now, too distracted to even think of comprehending that bit of information. It'd make sense, but he'd rather die than think he's finally going insane.
Using his Quirk, he blasted from the building, hoping to get as far away as possible from that thing. He knew it would follow him, but if it knows about him, then he's fucked in more ways than one.
In every shadow, Katsuki saw movement, and quickly moved. He didn't stay in one place long, always hoping along to make sure that it wouldn't find him and toy with him once more.
The image of Izuku falling played over and over in his head, and the image of his dead body on the ground supplied the rest to his other senses. The way the blood pooled at his feet, the way the air smelt of copper, the way the sound of bones crunching never affected him much until he landed right behind him, splatting against the hard concrete in their old school's courtyard.
He breathed through his nose, and the cold air helped ground him, but the taste of bile and the smell of copper made it unbearable, and for the first time in over five years since graduating and becoming a Pro Hero, Katsuki called in early and left for home.
Katsuki wasn't sure if he should be home alone or alone at all. Debating whether to stay at the old hags' place or asking shitty hair for a favor, but he decided against it.
He tries to play it off, saying he's just overworking himself, and maybe he should take a bath to untense his shoulders with some hot tea and a calming movie afterward.
And that's exactly what he did.
He started boiling water in a teapot over his gas stove, making sure it was set up before walking toward his bathroom. The tub wasn't huge, but it was big enough to relax in for a bit.
Filling it up with warm, almost hot, water was soothing, and dropping some lavender bath salts made the steam smell wonderful.
The kettle whistled, and Katsuki left to pour chamomile and lavender tea into a mug his father gave him a year ago. It was from Katsuki's own merch line, and he told his dad to "never do it" again, but he let it go while secretly paying him back.
Once he was back in the bathroom, mug in hand, Katsuki stripped his clothes and dipped in the tub. The water immediately warmed his tense muscles, sending him into a state of relaxation, and he quickly set down his mug on the ledge.
His earlier dread and worries were washed away, and he sighed, letting himself relax and soak up the much-needed time to himself. The smell of lavender mixed with the tea plastered a contented grin on his face, letting his eyes shut.
The moment of peace lasted all of two seconds before something brushed his leg.
Katsuki's eyes snapped open, and he sat upright to look in the water. And the once clear water was now murky, and he couldn't see a thing.
His heart pounded in his chest.
What the fuck what the fuck what thefuck whatthefuc-
He yelped, arms shooting out to grip the sides of the tub. His mug tipped over, clattering onto the tile as tea spilled across the floor. He tried to push himself up, lifting only a few inches before something yanked at his leg.
Katsuki tried to pull himself up again, water splashing at his efforts to kick the thing off his leg, but it only pulled harder, trying to yank him under. He wanted to blast whatever the hell it is, but he doesn't want to risk it if it's another hallucination.
The grip tightened, and Katsuki gritted his teeth. Tears pooled in his eyes as he lifted his trapped leg, and it gave away enough to show the pale hands gripping his calves. His eyes widened, and he felt himself grow as pale as the hands gripping him.
He thrashed again, kicking, but the grip didn't let up. The tears now fell, dampening his cheeks as he screamed in frustration.
"Let GO! LET GO- STOP- LET GO, YOU FREAKY THING. Please- STOP, LET GO!"
He cried out, pulling harder on his leg as he clamped his eyes shut again, trying to calm down, but the effort was futile.
"DAMNIT! I SA-"
"That's not nice."
Katsuki stopped kicking, his eyes snapping open as he looked at what -- who -- said that.
Crimson eyes matched with emerald, and his breath hitched.
Dek- no, Izuku looked the same, but he had no burned clothes, scratches on his arms and neck, or bandages on his cheeks. He still looked so young, just how Katsuki remembered from the start of Middle School, before his 'light-hearted roughhousing' turned brutal.
"I-Izuku?"
Izuku smiled, but his eyes darkened slightly as he tilted his head.
“Silly, Kacchan,” the green-haired boy murmured, almost sing-song, as his hand rose to cup Katsuki’s cheek.
The touch was wrong.
Too cold. Not just cool, almost empty, like there was nothing behind it. No warmth, no weight. Just a thin pressure against his skin.
Something in Katsuki’s gut twisted.
He turned his head to look.
He shouldn’t have.
The hand wasn’t a hand anymore. The skin stretched too tight over sharp angles, split in places like it had been pulled past its limit. The color had drained into a sick, chalky white, veins spidering dark beneath the surface. The bandages were still there, but they looked sunken, fused into the flesh.
And the nails...
They weren’t stopping.
They crept forward as he stared, lengthening with a faint, dry clicking sound, like something scraping against bone from the inside.
Katsuki jerked his gaze up.
It wasn’t Izuku.
Not anymore.
His eyes bulged, too large, too wet, the sclera swallowed in black. What little green remained looked muddy, drowned beneath something thick and shifting. His skin sagged, sliding slightly with each movement, like it didn’t quite belong where it was. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth; not flowing, but seeping, slow and heavy.
And he was smiling.
Too wide. Too still.
Katsuki tried to move, but something in him locked.
The body in front of him stretched.
Not all at once, but in small, wrong increments.
Limbs lengthening with soft, damp sounds, joints shifting out of place. The nails dragged lightly along his throat, a slow, deliberate line over his jugular.
Pressure.
Then a sting.
Warmth followed -- thin, unmistakable.
A growl rattled out of the thing’s chest, low and uneven, like it had to remember how.
Its mouth opened wider.
Too wide.
Human teeth sat inside something that wasn’t human anymore, set in a dark that seemed to go on longer than it should.
“Kacchan…”
The body didn’t step forward.
The neck moved.
It twisted, slowly at first, then faster, vertebrae shifting under skin with soft, wet pops until the face hung inches from his own.
Close enough that Katsuki could smell it.
Rot.
It smiled; too wide, its teeth didn't meet, they couldn't.
The grin kept stretching past where it should have stopped, the corners pulling farther and farther until there was only a dark, open space between rows of human teeth.
“That's not what you call me, now, is it?”
The voice didn’t match the mouth. It lagged as it came from too deep, scraping its way out like it didn’t belong in the first place.
Katsuki’s breath hitched.
The thing in front of him held itself wrong.
Too still in some places, shifting in others, like parts of it forgot how to exist together.
A smell hit him.
Rot, thick and wet, filled his lungs before he could stop it.
Then dirt.. earthy, suffocating.
And underneath it -- lavender.
Faint. Sweet. Familiar.
His stomach twisted violently.
Tears spilled over before he could stop them, his body reacting faster than his thoughts could catch up. The scent clung to the back of his throat, coating it.
If I live through this, his mind numb as the creature's hands made way around his neck, tightening effortlessly despite the frail limbs. I don't think I'll ever find lavender comforting again.
A sharp, useless thought cut through the panic.
Should’ve taken a shower.
Of course.
Of course, this would happen like this.
He said he'd never believe in superstitions, yet here he is: the Number 13 Pro Hero currently being squeezed to death by a creature he's not even sure was the real Izuku.
Or maybe it was. Is.
Maybe he's finally being punished.
And this all happened when he got up in rankings, too.