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Why should I play this game of pretend?
Remembering through a second hand sorrow?
~•~
Kacchan dies. Drowns to be exact and when Izuku hears the news he feels weightless in a bad way, completely unearthed and without an anker.
It was the slime villain they tell him.
Poor boy, he fought to the end, but the heroes just couldn't do anything. What a shame it is that Izuku wasn't the one to die. Kacchan had such a bright future after all.
Izuku expects to feel guilty.
It was him who had loosened the bottle after all, but in the end… isn't it All Might's responsibility to secure those better? No, it really isn't the quirkless boy's fault, only a series of very unfortunate circumstances one of which he influenced minorly.
Izuku feels good actually.
After the brief moment of dissociation where everything felt unreal, he gets used to the idea quickly. It is tragic, sure, but Izuku doesn't particularly feel the need to mourn.
It is strange, he supposes.
Going to school and coming back without burns. It is nice. Izuku can get used to it, especially since all of Kacchan's lackeys are too shell shocked to hurt him.
His mother cries a lot.
It makes Izuku irrationally angry, but he also gets it. The blonde was her nephew after all and she had been turning a willfully blind eye to his injuries for long enough that Kacchan had to have stayed the perfect little boy in her mind.
Kacchan's funeral is a week later.
His coffin is slightly too small for an adult and quite a lot of people show up. Mitsuki asks him to speak at his funeral.
"I'm just too emotional for it, sorry auntie", Izuku replies, eyes dry and voice blank.
Their class sings a song. Izuku doesn't participate. His teacher didn't ask him to.
His mother has an arm around his narrow shoulders, sobbing into a tissue. She asks him if he is sure that he doesn't want to speak.
"I'd really rather not."
Mitsuki turns, eyes full of tears as well. It is a surprising look on her usually angry face. She claims that it was what Kacchan would have wanted and Izuku very carefully doesn't laugh.
"Sorry, auntie", he says instead and tilts his head down to hide the amusement at such a claim.
He is bitter, yes, but not bitter enough to ruin Kacchan's funeral.
~•~
Such a great son and wonderful friend.
Oh don't the tears just pour.
~•~
The other students build a shrine in their classroom where Kacchan used to sit. They pile flowers on there and sweets and even a drawing of explosions.
It makes Izuku's stomach twinge with unease, but still there is no guilt and no grief.
It is too exhilarating to actually be left alone for once, too much of a pleasant novelty to not smell of burnt skin.
Naturally, the peace can't last.
They blame him, indirectly, not for the incident itself which is ironic considering that would have made most sense. Instead the claim that he should have died comes up once again.
They ask him how it feels to know that his useless existence continues when such an awesome guy died.
The next day, a spider lily is on his desk. It is achingly familiar and Izuku stares at it for a long moment, face blank and mind processing as the other students laugh and jeer.
Then he takes it and very slowly and deliberately lays it down on Kacchan's desk shrine, holding eye contact with all of them, eyes flickering from eye to eye of the suddenly quiet and pale students.
They never repeat the incident.
~•~
Why should I play the grieving boy and lie saying that I miss you?
And that my world has gone dark without your light?
~•~
Two years later, Izuku is at UA and well on his way to becoming the first quirkless hero, aiming for the Underground.
He has friends and lives in a dorm.
It surprises him when his teacher knocks on his door and tells him that his mother called. She doesn't usually do that.
"She says that it is your best friend's second death day and that you would likely want to spend some time with her and go to his grave."
Oh. Right. He forgot that today is that day.
Last year, his mother had spent the day crying and Izuku had given his best to look at least somewhat saddened.
"I can accompany you home and get you again afterwards", Aizawa-sensei offers quietly.
"No, that's fine, sensei, but thank you", Izuku replies politely.
His teacher looks unsure, but extends his phone, explaining that his mother is still on the line, waiting to hear from him.
Izuku sighs softly and takes the phone.
"I do not want to come home, mom", he says into the phone and winces when his mother gasps immediately.
Aizawa is watching him with dark eyes and a deadpan expression and Izuku feels scrutinized. Not enough to want to go pretend to mourn for Kacchan though.
"Because I don't feel like grieving", the greenette replies to his mom's uncertain 'Why?'
He listens to her scolding for all of two seconds.
"We weren't friends", he interrupts. "And I will not grieve for an abuser."
Aizawa's eyes sharpen and his mother is silent on the other end.
Izuku hangs up with a click.
Once again he waits for any guilt, but none comes and he can't feel bad about that either. The scars on his body ache in commiseration.
"We have an excellent in-house therapist", Aizawa says after a couple minutes of silence as he clearly works through several things he wants to say.
Izuku smiles up at him, sunnily, glad that Aizawa doesn't judge him. For now.
"Thank you, sensei", he replies genuinely. "I will make an appointment."
It couldn't hurt. If this therapist condemned him, he could always stop going.
"Good evening", he wishes his teacher and then closes the door behind him.
~•~
I will sing no requiem tonight.