Chapter Text
Akira sat up. Something felt off. The place was dark—but something darker. It wasn’t the night sky; rather, there was nothing. Akira got up from the bed and slowly left the room.
When she opened the door, she saw a tall, lanky figure standing at the end of the hall—staring, watching, stalking her. She felt its gaze even though there was nothing to see. She blinked, and when she focused, it was right there in her face: a blank, foggy figure towering over her. That’s when she looked down and noticed she was wearing male clothes. She hated it—but was also mortified.
“W-what the h-hell is going on?”
The next second, the figure disappeared—but somehow she still felt its gaze. She was scared and didn’t know what was happening. She went downstairs to find Aizawa or Mic—or honestly anyone. When she made it downstairs, she nearly screamed and lost it: there stood Toga, but she was turned away. The worst part was all the blood—and it was coming right from Toga’s arm... or where it should have been.
Akira felt herself losing control—the little she had. She was breaking. She was breaking. She was BREAKING.
She slowly backed up until her back hit a wall. That’s when Toga moved closer.
“Y-you ruined my life.”
“How dare you.”
Akira screamed,
“I’m so, so, so sorry!”
“I made a mistake!!!”
“I shouldn’t have let my guard down!”
Toga kept walking toward her. Akira felt her legs giving out until she fell to the floor, sitting there bawling and screaming. She needed it to stop—her mind couldn’t handle all of this that was going on.
She felt something change and looked up, shaking. The change was complete. Toga was gone—and she wasn’t in the house anymore but at school, in front of the class, wearing the girls’ uniform—a much better outfit. But she was just standing there, shattering as it went on.
She took it in—everyone staring. And somehow, it wasn’t just her class. It felt like everyone at once, staring. People appeared around her out of thin air.
And then it began—the laughing and mocking. Everyone pointed at her while making fun of her—until he stood up and walked over to her.
Kacchan...
“Do it, Izuku. End it. You harm everyone around you. It will make our lives easier.”
Aizawa spoke up.
“He’s right. You come into my house, eat my food, and yet you’re the sole reason your classmates are hospitalized. You couldn’t even keep the enemies safe.”
“Fucking worthless.”
Akira lost all feeling in her body. She fell to the floor, her mind beyond empty but yet full. She broke. She began laughing.
“Y-you’re r-right... I-I am HAHAHA!”
“I SHOULD HAHA!”
She looked back up—and Jirou and Toga were there, just laughing at her.
“You thought we care about you? Never!”
Akira sat there laughing and crying. She was broken. She couldn’t hold herself together. She had no intervention, nobody to scoop her up and tell her she was wrong. She was locked in her own mind prison. She spent the next multiple hours stuck, going through countless places and events—people telling her how she failed, how her death would improve their lives, telling her to do it.
It was only worse when Toga said stuff. When Toga would bring up things they talked about in private—her mother, the bullying—saying they were right, how she regretted helping Akira in the woods, how she should have killed her there and then.
By this point, Akira stood there motionless. Nothing would help anymore. There was nothing that would save her.
When she awoke from the hell she experienced, she was sitting there—not moving. The bed was soaked with sweat. Akira got up out of bed and fell over. Her legs shook and were numb. The thump was loud enough as she heard something—a voice? The cat? Who knew, who cared. Akira made her way into the bathroom.
[Viewer discretion: This chapter contains sensitive content involving suicidal ideation and attempts. Please take care of yourself and consider skipping this section if you are affected by such topics.]
Akira waltzed into the bathroom, too weak to do much. She opened the drawer and pulled out a blade and her phone. She opened her group chat, which had a conversation about something Akira couldn’t tell—she couldn’t comprehend—but she needed to get her final words out.
Mina: So yeah, that’s when he dumped me. It was so stupid.
Jirou: Damn dude, sucks.
Akira: Sorry for everything. Hope life goes on easier for you all. I know I made your lives harder—especially those who are still harmed by me. Sorry Momo. Sorry, sorry, SORRY.
Akira hit send.
Mina: What the fuck, Kira!?!
Jirou: Are you okay?!!!
Momo: What are you talking about!!
Hagakure: Don’t do anything irrational!!
Uraraka: PLEASE don’t do anything!
Tsu: You never hurt anyone. You never were a problem. Just talk to us.
Akira had already put the phone away once she sent the message.
The girls began to panic. They weren’t there.
Jirou began to spam Aizawa’s phone like thirteen times until he picked up—groggy.
He answered.
“Wha—”
“GO CHECK ON AKIRA!!”
Aizawa could hear Jirou crying on the other side.
Aizawa threw himself out of bed, noticing Mic was already up. He darted out of the room, Jirou still on the phone.
Mic looked at Aizawa—dread on his face.
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Goddammit, old man, she’s trying to FUCKING KILL HERSELF!”
Aizawa went cold. He practically threw the phone on the counter and ran, with Mic behind him. When they made it to the door, Aizawa yelled into the room,
“DON’T DO ANYTHING! PLEASE!”
Aizawa knocked on the door, pounding. He was trying to get in—needed to get in. That’s when Mic pushed him out of the way and began kicking the door in—kick after kick—until it began to break and then finally enough to get in.
When they got in, they knew they were too late to prevent it—but not too late to save her.
Aizawa ran down the stairs.
“MEET US AT THE HOSPITAL IF YOU MUST!”
He then hung up and called 911. In minutes, they were there, pulling Akira out of the house with towels placed to keep her from bleeding out. Aizawa and Mic went together, Mic driving—and even with him being a good driver, he wasn’t following the rules, speeding all the way.
Meanwhile, Jirou—who was at her home while this was happening—was screaming to the girls on a call with Jirou’s parents, who, after hearing what happened, offered to drive her to the hospital. She thanked them and, on the way, told the girls where they were going. They agreed to show up.
After Jirou was done talking to the girls, she called Bakugou, who was actually at the local gym with Kiri. He picked up his phone at the gym. Kiri looked over at Bakugou as the color drained from his face. He got off the equipment.
He listened to Jirou yell and only got more worried. Kiri could hear bits and pieces of what happened but didn’t get the whole story. Once it was done, Kiri had already grabbed their stuff.
“Let’s go!”
Bakugou nodded, and they ran out of the gym. Luckily, not being too far, they actually showed up first—just in time for the ambulance and Aizawa and Mic to all arrive at the same time. Akira was brought in unconscious from blood loss. Aizawa was a mess, and Mic was very close as well.
Bakugou turned to Aizawa.
“Who the hell CAUSED THIS!”
Aizawa sat down on the all-too-familiar chair.
“I, h-honestly, it’s partially my fault, I think...”
“The hospital warned me that with all she’s experienced, there was a high likelihood the trauma could cause her to try something, but I didn’t listen. I was dumb...”
Bakugou sat down. Kiri next to him.
Kiri was finally connecting all the dots—everything that had happened in the past month or so, all those incidents. He may not know the fine details, but a lot made sense—especially with Aizawa referring to her as a she and such.
Kiri turned slowly to Bakugou.
“What’s her name?”
Bakugou realized what they were saying and how Kiri picked up on it.
“Her name’s Akira.”
“It’s a sweet name.”
“Mhm.”
The group sat there waiting until the girls arrived one by one. Momo, who was still at the hospital, had called to be allowed out of her room and was brought out in a wheelchair. The others all began to show up, asking many questions, which Aizawa answered, explaining the same thing and what they had said to him yesterday when he got Akira.
Jirou was a mess but she was mad. She was already on thin ice with Aizawa, but withholding this information—she wasn’t even mad that he didn’t tell her. That was whatever. But not telling someone and, even worse, letting her have a sharp object on day one was ridiculous. As much as she wanted to tear into Aizawa, Momo calmed her enough.
But Aizawa could feel it—he knew he fucked up. He knew it would take a while to regain their trust—all of his students...
As they all arrived, they filled the seats. He was happy to see how much the girls cared and arrived as quickly as possible.
Akira felt the void again but she didn’t move. She didn’t even try to talk, as she learned the hard way that if she talks to people, she makes their lives worse.
She lay there unconscious her body unable to move, even if she tried to. She did feel a lot of pain, but that was to be expected. She stayed—she didn’t try to fight it. She didn’t want to go back. If she left, maybe Toga would be able to forgive her in the future—maybe. Just maybe.
Akira wasn’t sure, though. She could only hope that maybe it would happen.
From another room, though, a body twitched—moving—showing signs of life.