Chapter Text
RAGE:
Sing, Goddess, Achilles' rage,
Black and murderous, that cost the Greeks
Incalculable pain, pitched countless souls
Of heroes into Hades' dark,
And left their bodies to rot as feasts
For dogs and birds, as Zeus' will was done.
Begin with the clash between Agamemnon--
The Greek warlord--and godlike Achilles.
(From The Iliad, lines 1-17, by Homer, translated by Stanley Lombardo and published by Hackett Publishing)
He can't stop staring. Deku attempts to touch his shoulder with a trembling hand, but Katsuki swats it away.
"Kacchan." The smaller man’s voice is soft as ever. After all these years, he still sees him as a friend; as a creature that won't bite his fingers off when he is offered food. Katsuki is not weak. He does not need help.
All Might’s mangled form is swimming before his eyes. Has the king been injured all this time? Steam comes off their hero's body as he gasps for breath. Katsuki knows his attacks in the last battle were stupid and foolish. He just wanted to prove himself. To prove once and for all that he is worth it, that he is indeed the shining new star among heroes – that he is not weak. He is not weak. He is not, he is not...
All Might moves as if to speak to him, and he can't take it. He throws his helmet onto the floor and barks out an order to the shrimpy boy outside the tent to bring him water.
It was stupid. This whole thing is stupid. Stupid Deku chattering away in his ear. Useless.
The king does not say anything. Deku's eyebrows furrow worriedly. Katsuki snarls right back at him. All Might cannot punish him right now anyway.
***
His anger is a mine field – a constant of explosions. It makes him shine, but it's also suffocating and his curse. This time, his anger is despair. It corrodes his insides until he lets it soar like a firework as he delivers the first punch to Deku's face. He is stronger. He needs to lead the men into battle.
"Kacchan, we shouldn't," the other man stutters. "Someone will see! The other soldiers -"
Katsuki isn't listening. His rival - when did they become rivals? - is just not getting it. He doesn't know the betrayal Katsuki feels, because everybody is in on something he is not and they're looking down on him again. And he just cannot measure up to the gods' expectations, even though he wants victory with every fibre of his being.
"Fight back, useless Deku," Katsuki says and delivers another punch. This one Deku blocks.
His volcano meets Deku's tenacity. He can almost imagine a buzz of electricity and fire bursting around them. The dice has been cast.
***
They call for him, but he will not answer. He will not be second best. Katsuki refuses to be anything but number one.
Their king is injured and it is Katsuki’s fault. But it’s okay. He will show them. Just not when he is asked to hold back, to mind Izuku's injuries, as if the smaller man's fingers have been broken by anyone else but Deku himself, because he looks down on Katsuki and is always lying and keeps getting back up when Katsuki pushes him down.
He scoffs as he remembers Deku's proffered hand. Like he needed him. Like he needs anyone. He always holds out his stupid hand and smiles his smile and it makes Katsuki so, so angry. Why won't he let the strong fight their battles? Deku shouldn't be strong, Deku was always weak, and now Deku will leave him behind.
It's not like either of them is allowed in the battle. Something about saving their strength after their stupid display last night. Something about treason and respect and frontlines and Katsuki stopped listening because he made it clear that he'd have none of that and he is too valuable to lose so they should listen.
Nothing quashed the determined spark in Izuku's eyes. That should have been the first sign.
***
Izuku's body is broken and so small.
Katsuki cannot tear his eyes away. He thinks of Inko, the woman he called family. Then thinks of his own mother, pushing him to become a hero, of Izuku always following in his steps.
Had he not stayed away from the fight, would Izuku still be alive?
Why did he charge needlessly into battle? Against the Todoroki prince? He was always so reckless. Weak and reckless, the worst combination. He could never measure up to Katsuki, no matter how hard he tried. And All Might, he stupidly encouraged him, trained him like Izuku could handle it. All he got were broken fingers. The idiot should have known not to fight injured. Not to fight the battles that weren't his own.
"That's treason, Bakugou," Kirishima chides him but Katsuki doesn't listen as he glares at All Might. Katsuki should have been his favourite, not Izuku. "Midoriya-bro wouldn't want you to cause trouble over this, even though it's manly."
Instead of Kirishima's face he punches his own thigh.
***
Katsuki's fist is bloodied. The explosion won't come. It needs to. It's all subdued, as if he's underwater, and nothing feels real. He didn't care. He didn't. (He doesn't.)
"Young Bakugou," All Might says, "I'm sorry. There will be time to grieve later. We must-"
"Fuck you," Katsuki says. If it were anyone else, All Might would have their head.
"Young Bakugou," All Might tries again.
"Leave him be," one of his advisors, Aizawa, says. Katsuki glowers at him. Aizawa should have reasoned with All Might. He didn't keep Izuku from going into battle. It was his failure too. Stupid kings and their encouragement and his temper and the stupid bruises on Izuku's arms. Still, All Might recedes, and Katsuki almost misses the annoyance. Something hot fills his veins and he almost, almost feels it explode. But it doesn't.
It never does.
***
Katsuki holds Izuku's dented helmet in his hand. He slowly places it on the ground to put his own on, but his eyes never quite leave the still bloodied metal. Days have passed and his anger has not simmered down yet.
"Todoroki," he growls.
It's a promise. Of pain, not for Katsuki.
Izuku adored the prince. He knew that in battle he would have to kill or be killed, but Izuku still adored Todoroki from afar. Katsuki scoffs. The prince was amazing and strong and so much stronger than Katsuki, he could not defeat him—
How dare he kill him? Everyone knows that explosions need the quiet to sound out their power. Now there is none. Too much of it but none seems right.
He pictures the perfect prince's face, his rumoured scar, his exotic hair.
If his anger won't explode, he will make sure that icy bastard does.