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Katsuki storms into the classroom early, like he always does. He’ll be so glad to be away from this shitty school next year and into UA. The walls are grimy, paint peeling on the edges. The desks are scratched and marked up from years of use. Hell, the floor isn’t even even, sagging towards the middle and tripping off half of the extras in the class.
The desks have an irritating habit of sliding towards the center and Katsuki is right on the edge of the slope. He slams the desk over a few centimeters so it isn’t crooked, learning back in his chair and propping his heels on his desk.
The teachers never say anything about it. Takeda-sensei is the only one who cares and even he just gives a disappointed stare that Katsuki point blank ignores. He’ll put his feet down when class starts and no sooner.
The two stupid goons that seem to think he’s their friend hover near his desk. Katsuki ignores them in favor of checking his phone.
Harsh rain today around evening, ugh, there goes training.
Katsuki could’ve gone to a better school than Aldara Junior High of all things, but when the option of a gym for quirk training opened years ago the decision to put the money there was an easy one. The problem is, it's mostly an open courtyard.
He needs space to practice, to be the best fucking thing UA has seen since All Might. Being the only one to be accepted from Aldara is just a bonus, it isn’t like any of the other extras here have a chance in hell of making it and they all know it.
Well, except of course Deku. Deku still isn’t here yet, but that’s hardly a surprise. He usually comes just before the bell rings.
Too much hero chasing, too much daydreaming, too much thinking he’s better than Katsuki when in reality he’s some quirkless punk that’s going nowhere near heroics, no matter how much he looks down his nose at Katsuki.
Sure enough, seconds before the bell rings Deku shuffles in, head bowed low, notebook clenched against his chest.
Katsuki grits his teeth, tucking his phone away and sitting straight.
Hanamura-sensei walks in a minute later, a tired drawn expression on the old man’s face. Katsuki buckles in for another boring ass day at Aldera.
Most classes are just review and prep as high school entrance exams are coming up soon.
One of the girls stumbles on the uneven flooring on her way to the bathroom. The sight is pathetic and just another reason Katsuki can’t wait to be out of here.
Hanamura-sensei shuffles in for the last bit of class, papers held in his left hand.
Katsuki grins, wide and sharp. Mock exams. Not that he hasn’t already taken the mock UA one as soon as it was provided, but it’s just another way to prove himself.
Of course, Hanamura-sensei makes a huge production of it, the over-dramatic bastard that he is. And then Katsuki has to put those annoying extras in their place. Heroes? Them? Please.
That would be the end of that, if the teacher didn’t announce that Deku of all people was applying to UA of all places. The whole class thinks that’s a riot of course, which it should be.
Should be, but something prickly crawls up Katsuki’s spine at the thought. Deku crawls back to his seat when the teacher finally shoos the students crowding him away. He clips a desk, yelping to steady it. The class erupts into chuckles again.
Katsuki clenches his fists, scowling at the mop of green curls hunched over the desk’s top. He really needs to show the nerd his place. Before he starts to get the idea that he could ever be a hero.
The end of class comes swiftly, the mock exam tucked into his bag. Most students are eager to rush out after Hanamura-sensei. Aldara only does cleaning occasionally, another mark against them, but it works in Katsuki’s favor today.
Deku is slow to leave, probably because the rest of the class is so eager, so he’s still at his desk, dumb notebook on his desk.
Extras one and two are lingering around, but Katsuki doesn’t care. This is between Deku and him. The others fade to the background, like always, as he walks forward, shoulders rigid.
Deku notices him almost immediately, freezing. His eyes flick up, then down to the notebook, and then over to the door. Nope. Katsuki isn’t letting him go, not this time, not with this flagrant show of contempt.
A creak comes from the floor when he steps into Deku’s space, but Katsuki ignores it to press even closer, his hand clasping around Deku’s shoulder. His quirk isn’t quite meant for sustained burning, but he’s figured out how to do it for a few seconds, lighting up his hands and the corner of Deku’s uniform. The acrid smell of burning polyester fills the space between them, Deku’s eyes wide, lip trembling.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking but-”
An ominous loud groan interrupts him and Katsuki blinks, scowling and looking around.
“Uh...did you hear that?” Extra One says, confusion evident.
Extra Two snorts, “Of course I did, stupid old school.”
Katsuki shakes his head in annoyance, turning back to Deku. But Deku isn’t looking at him anymore. His head is angled down towards the floor, face scrunched up. His lips are moving but the usual muttering is either silent or just on the edge of his hearing.
Something is...wrong.
Katsuki takes a small step back, releasing the other’s shoulder and glancing down. The floor looks almost bowed and he prods it with the edge of his shoe.
Definitely at a slope, way worse than earlier.
“Kacc-” Deku starts, goddamn condescending worry in his voice before he’s interrupted by a sharp squeal. Deku’s eyes fly wider open, his typical expression of panic magnified by fifty, and then he’s rushing forward, his short scrawny body colliding into Katsuki’s and driving him back.
“What the fu-”
The ground vanishes, a great plume of smoke and a cacophony of noise bursts in all at once, Katsuki’s back hitting the ground behind him, legs dangling over the abyss. He starts to slide down before he activates explosions from his palms, propelling him forward to stable ground.
He coughs violently, doubled over as the dust drifts through the air. Katsuki struggles to his feet, whirling around to see what the hell just happened.
There’s a hole.
A giant hole in the middle of the classroom.
And he stands at the edge of it.
Alone.
He creeps closer, the diameter of the hole is huge, stretching over most of the classroom. The only desks in the room are two in the far back and four in the front where he landed. The dust starts to settle, some on his uniform, the pale flakes standing out starkly from the black fabric.
The edges around the hole are unstable, a tile falling when he lightly presses a foot against it.
“Deku?” He shouts down. Nothing. He can’t remember the extras’ names even still so he shouts, “Hey!”
Silence.
Something falls below, a harsh crash. Katsuki winces, edging around the hole.
A noise.
He whips around but it’s just another third year from the class across the hall standing in the doorway.
“Oh my god,” she gasps, a trembling hand coming up to cover her mouth.
“Oi!” Katsuki barks at her, “Call the police, there are injured down there!”
Her eyes widen and she nods frantically, hand digging in her jacket pocket and pulling out her phone. Satisfied that she’ll get a hold of the proper authorities, Katsuki looks back at the hole.
Deku and the others must have dropped quite a ways, nevermind landing on whoever or whatever was on the floor below. His fists clench as he glares at the yawning emptiness.
The hell did Deku push him out of the way for? He clearly knew something was messed up with the floor by the way he was acting moments before. Why not save himself? Did he really think Katsuki wasn’t capable of rescuing himself (nevermind that his reaction time probably wouldn’t have been enough without Deku’s push)?
Did Deku even think about what would happen to himself?
Did he even car-
Katsuki shakes his head, dislodging more dust. The girl finished her phone call and now stands in the doorway, hands so tight around the doorframe that they’re turning white.
“Um..what should we do?” She asks, voice trembling.
Katsuki snorts, “What’s your quirk?”
She blinks.
“It’s uh...I can make my nails change color.”
How absolutely useless.
“Leave,” he says, “Make sure everyone outside knows what happened and not to come the fuck back in.”
“Okay!” She squeaks, rushing away without a second glance.
Once he’s sure she’s gone he steps lightly at the perimeter of the hole. A spot near the back is firmer, maybe a standing support beam underneath it, from what Katsuki can tell. He stretches over to peer down.
Blackness.
Not surprising as obviously the lights had been taken out when the floor fell out. It doesn’t stop the deep displeased frown from stretching across Katsuki’s face.
“Hey!” He shouts one more time, but is greeted with a faint far groan.
He scowl deepens. From the lack of response, it’s clear nobody is getting up down there on their own. While Katsuki has trust in the heroes that’ll get called to the scene, who knows what the fuck might happen in the meantime, especially with the precarious bits of flooring closer to the front of the room.
Sparks light up his palms, Flight is something he’s just started trying, but this isn’t going to be sustained.
Like hell he’ll just let Deku save his ass like it’s nothing. He isn’t going to owe that fucker anything.
With explosions blooming from his palms, Katsuki jumps. The flashes of light from the fire show dangling wires, exposed piping, and bent metal. He falls faster, letting off a few more explosions to stay balanced. It’s then he realizes something.
He should’ve hit the second floor by now. Katsuki glances to the side again, in time for a fire flash to reveal another cracked bit of floor.
The second floor collapsed too.
Shit. Panic floods his system at the thought, sweat pooling down to his hands, explosions popping louder and brighter.
Instead of a one story drop it’s two, and on top of desks and equipment and probably other students-
The ground comes into sight. Covered in rubble and broken furniture, it looks nothing like Aldara Junior High. Instead he’s brought back to the hero casts on T.V., broken bits that heroes pick through to applause.
Rescue work isn’t something Katsuki has ever been interested in and he’d always changed the channel, usually to a fight.
He regrets that now.
The ground shifts under his feet and he almost stumbles, biting back a curse. He'll have to traverse carefully in this hellscape.
Katsuki tries to shuffle forward, only to slide down as the mass amount of debris shifts and he lands right on his ass again.
“Fuck!” He bites out, reaching forward to pick himself up.
He bumps into something soft and wet instead. Katsuki recoils at the touch, glaring into the dim dusty distance. There’s not enough light to pick out what he touched, but a twisting jerk of his stomach is hard to ignore.
Hesitantly, he lights up his palm.
In the sharp light of explosion he can make out a pale arm. Twisted all the way back, bone poking through the elbow, grisly and red.
He gulps, heart hammering. With a shaking hand he brings it further left.
Wide unblinking grey eyes stare back, pale blonde hair coated in red surrounding the twisted expression on the boy’s face.
Katsuki’s stomach lurches and the explosions from his palm stop abruptly. He stumbles backward, sliding around on the broken wreckage.
Another groan from a few paces away. Katsuki breathes deeply and ignoring the trembling of his hands he pops more explosions, resolutely not looking down. He sees a glimpse of the fingers extra and nudges his way over, sweat slicking the back of his uniform shirt.
There’s a tiny bit of rubble on top of the other that Katsuki pushes off. The finger kid is knocked out, right hand at an odd angle, but breathing. Katsuki drags him out of the debris and moves along, picking his way through.
Extra two is trapped under a shelving unit and no matter how hard Katsuki pushes, the damned thing won’t budge. He snarls at it, tempted to kick it. Extra two does nothing to help, also passed out (or dead).
Before he can get too angry there’s a slight crash, like when Katsuki was picking through the refuse. A low groan accompanies it and Katuski hurries over, feet sliding around on the loose ground.
His explosions pop, still the only light source.
A piece of the ceiling beam sticks straight up and Katsuki’s stomach drops, saliva like acid as he swallows it down.
There is a body pinned down by it and he slows, unwillingly.
Under the harsh pops from the light in his palms he can make out dark hair, curly. Skin pale, far too pale. And a piece of ceiling embedded in Deku’s shoulder.
He stops by the other’s side. Unable to breathe, he collapses to his knees.
The noise attracts Deku’s attention and his head lolls to the side.
“K-kacchan,” he rasps, face trying to make some sort of expression beyond the pained pinch it has now.
“Shut up!” Katsuki almost yells, voice catching on the last syllable. His hands grasp the loose bits of plaster and tile desperately. Deku groans a bubbly little groan, something dark leaking out of the side of his mouth. Katsuki’s hands hover uselessly over Deku’s prone form, the sparks on his left dying out as he loses concentration.
There’s something he remembers about impalement, something he researched in preparation for UA’s mock exam.
Not to remove the object, right.
He growls, even if he wanted to he probably couldn’t. Katsuki is strong, but not that strong.
“Deku,” he says, roughly. Deku makes a grunt of acknowledgment, eyes fluttering close. Katsuki shouts his name again, grabbing his forearm. Katsuki’s hands are sweaty and it takes effort not to spark up an explosion. He can’t burn Deku right here.
“G-glad you’re o-okay,” Deku stutters, coughing. Katsuki’s face is too close and he ends up spattered with the excretion.
He barely notices, hand tightening on the arm in his grasp, “Shut up! I didn’t ask you to push me out of the way!” His voice cracks on the final word, nails digging into Deku’s uniform sleeve.
Deku smiles, a small pained peaceful thing that has Katsuki’s stomach twisting itself into a knot.
“Don’t you dare die on me, you useless fuck!”
But Deku doesn’t respond beyond a pinch of the face. Katsuki resists the urge to shake him, all too aware of the beam piercing through Deku.
Something shifts in the background and Katsuki’s head whips around. A flashlight beam blinds him and he spits out a curse.
“Found em! It looks like most of the damage is in this area!” A woman’s voice, loud and sharp cuts through the oppressive silence. The woman picks her way quickly through the rubble and over what Katsuki knows are bodies.
Up close he recognizes the bright yellow costume and teal hair, both dimmed by the darkness of the school.
“Ragdoll,” he croaks.
“That’s right!” She chirps, though it’s obviously a bit strained, “The Pussycats came to help! You look like you can walk on your own, so let me help get you out so we can work on rescue!”
Katsuki’s eyes drift back down to Deku, whose arm has gone entirely limp in his hand.
“I can-” He starts to say what, he doesn’t know. Help? Because he’s been such a great help so far.
“Please,” Ragdoll says, almost sharp, “We’ve been doing rescues for a while now! Don’t worry! Your friend is in good hands!”
There’s a lot he could say to that. He’s not my fucking friend, for one. It’s his own fault he’s down here, another. It should be me.
You aren’t saying something, he wants to yell at the grit of her teeth and the grip she has around the flashlight.
But Katsuki says none of it, nostrils flaring as he pries his fist off of Deku’s arm.
“Okay,” he says, stumbling up, “Okay.”
Ragdoll smiles, a paw glove pressing gently on his shoulder, “Mandalay should be right outside with an EMT.” She guides him forward and his nails dig into his palms, glancing back at where Deku is splayed out.
Useless, he thinks, teeth grit so hard they creak.