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Katsuki was alone. Finally; this was his big chance. And he wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.
It was his first time alone since he had gotten kidnapped. It had only been a day, but with the chaos of everything, it felt like far too long to him. The league hadn’t revealed their motives to him yet, and he didn’t particularly care. They were insane, and there was no use trying to rationalize their thoughts.
There was no time to think of that anyway. This was his chance to get out of here.
Previously, they had been keeping him in the main room where all the villains gathered, but they had moved him for the night. Maybe his constant curses and clanging were becoming too unbearable to listen to, or maybe they wanted to have a meeting. Like he said, he could not give a fuck.
All he knew was that he had a substantial amount of time by himself before the villains would ambush him with an attack, or whatever stupid plan they had ready for him. Whatever they were going to say or do to him, he wouldn’t be there to receive it.
He looked around the room. There was a small window by the top of the wall. It looked sturdy. The only other way out was the door, right into the villain's hands. Shigaraki probably thought this was a safe room, equivalent to a cell in its level of containment.
But Katsuki already had a plan. He could see a latch on the widow. If that didn’t work, which he assumed it wouldn’t, he could break it open with his fists or the chair he was sitting on.
As a last resort, he could use an explosion on the window, because no matter how sturdy it was, it would surely open at that. The only reason that was a last resort was that it would make so much noise. But even so, once he got out, in the open air he could evade the warp guy. He had done it before at USJ when the league attacked class 1-A the first time.
He could squeeze through that window easily. It was small, and it would take some effort, but he could do it.
The villains had underestimated him, hadn’t they? One of the top students at UA wasn’t going to go down so easily. He wasn’t just any weak teenager. He was going to become the number one hero one day, and this would prove it!
In his moment of motivation, he decided to act on his plan. His hands were bound in metal, but there had to be a way out. He couldn’t fiddle with the restraints in front of the villains, but now he could do whatever he wanted outside of their watchful eyes.
His hands were stuck together, and they were sweating a bit. He could use that to his advantage, not only to slip out easier but also to use his explosions on it.
So he squirmed, wriggled, and maneuvered his hands in as many ways as possible. And nothing happened.
He tried to think of the logistics of it. He was smart. He could figure something out. But his mind only betrayed him.
‘You idiot!’ he thought, ‘You can’t explode this shit, it's metal. You already tried everything at the sports festival, didn’t you? You couldn't get out of those, so why would this be any different? There's no way out!’
There's no way out…
That couldn’t be true. He was stronger than this. He was going to be the strongest, and everyone who had doubted him would see him handle this situation all by himself and believe he would be the number one, too!
Was he really that weak?
No, no, no. He was in control right now. He just had to figure something out.
But he knew he was kidding himself. There was no way past the first stage of his plan. He couldn’t do anything.
The more he began to realize this, the more his grunts in frustration transformed into pitiful sounds, almost like whimpers.
He was supposed to be stronger than this…
The chains rattled, and the clanging noises echoed desperately in his head as his movements became less methodical in trying to get his hands out. He had originally been acting on a few ideas of ways to slide his hands out, but now he was just shaking the thing relentlessly in hopes that sheer force of will would somehow win him this. He started yanking his hands so violently to pull them out that he was starting to injure himself. But his fear turned into anger and he couldn't stop himself.
Until that anger seemed to explode from within him the moment the realization had finally sunk in. He abruptly stopped.
He looked down at his hands. Useless.
He willed his tears not to fall. But they did.
His lip quivered. His fear no longer came out as anger. He was just fucking scared.
Was he going to die? All because he was too fucking weak to do anything right now? Was this his fault? He felt weak enough for being kidnapped in the first place. And now, he couldn’t even tell himself it wouldn’t happen again. His weakness was showing again right now. It hadn’t been a fluke at all. It was just him.
As he sobbed, he turned his face onto his shoulder in an attempt to stifle the pathetic sounds falling from his lips. He needed to stop. What if someone came in?
He tried to take a deep breath. But it didn’t do anything. He was too far gone.
He just wanted it to stop. He wanted to stop crying, wanted to stop being so weak, to stop being here in the fucking first place, and to just go home.
“Make it stop…” He mumbled through the tears.
It was too much for him to handle.
His bound hands sent him flashbacks of the sports festival. Afterward, he had woken up in a room, all alone like this. And all he could do was wait for someone to unlock the chains. He had tried to escape them, so he could go and give the teachers a piece of his mind, but the teachers had reached him before he could figure out how to get out, and unlocked him. But that wouldn’t happen this time, would it? No one was coming to save him.
That memory was a painful one. That feeling of being alone, and being trapped. It only made him feel worse. He hated the feeling of being unable to move. There wasn’t a worse feeling than that to Katsuki. He liked being in control.
All these feelings just exacerbated the exact ones he already felt.
He was just so alone.
‘Get me out of here, get me out of here, get me out of here–’
What if they never found where they had taken him? What if they weren’t looking at all…
That thought scared him the most out of everything. He couldn’t handle it. He just became more distraught. He was supposed to be a fucking hero. What the hell was wrong with him?
His thoughts exhausted him. His day was already eventful enough, and he could no longer keep his head up; he wiped his tears with his shoulder before dropping his head in the only position that wasn't completely unbearable.
He tried to slow his tears one last time before letting his eyes close. This was it. Sleep was the only escape he could give to himself.