Work Text:
Katsuki had always known about his destiny, his creation and destruction. An incident as a child had let him know early on what awaited him.
Near-death, that's what they called it; a brush with death. So yes, he knew death well. It had no body, no face, but he knew it better than he knew himself.
He knew how it sang a little lullaby as it neared, how it's sweet whispers and tender love always waited.
Katsuki knew what awaited him, what awaited everyone. He knew what soothed him to sleep every night.
He knew it so well. He knew the words that created and destroyed.
Hush now, close your weary eyes,
The stars will hold you where you lie.
A shadow falls, the light will fade,
But my song will guide the way.
I give my light to guide your way,
Through endless night, to break the day.
No more fears, no battles to fight,
Just my lullaby through the endless night.
Sleep, my dear, let the echoes flow,
Through endless night to skies below.
A song for the fallen, lost yet free,
Rest your soul and remember me.
The words, whispered so sweetly to him that night, gave him more than he'd ever wanted.
Creation.
Destruction.
Guidance.
Katsuki could guide, could create and destroy.
His original quirk was faux, far from what really mattered. Guidance.
Destruction wasn't something he often caused. His explosions could do that just fine. The creation? Rarely seen.
Cracks split his skin around his heart, spreading with every use. Black lines that would chip away at his life with every growth.
Katsuki knew death well, for he'd become a part of it.
Creation was rarely seen. It came in fleeting moments: an outstretched hand, a gasp of air, the shimmer of light in a child’s eyes who lived to see another dawn. It was fragile and fleeting, but it mattered.
Yuuei promoted heroics, sacrifices, loss. It manufactured little heroes with big dreams, carving their spirits into tools of justice. Katsuki had been disillusioned long ago, too aware of the cracks beneath the facade.
But still, he tried. He tried to be more than a tool, more than a hero. He tried to guide, to create, to make something worth the sacrifice.
And when those cracks spread, pulsing and pulling with every beat of his heart, he kept on trying.
With every syllable, every verse, every stanza, came the familiar warmth of death. He knew it well.
So when he faced those villains, he knew which ones death favored, which ones toed the line close enough to hear the whispers.
The ones whose eyes went wide as he muttered those words, those syllables, those verses and stanzas. The one's who went pale and crumpled like card houses.
He knew it all.
Katsuki’s breaths always came slow, deliberate. Always carried a melodic afterthought.
Even now, as he stood amidst the carnage, the lullaby whispered faintly in his ears like a lover’s call. The cracks on his chest pulsed with each beat of his heart, black veins creeping outward like death’s gentle embrace.
He clenched his fists, watching the chaos unfold before him. The villains were gaining ground, their relentless assault threatening everything behind him: his classmates.
"Too close" He quietly muttered. The words felt heavy, final. He could hear the whispers, louder than ever. Death hovered overhead; waiting, watching.
The ground shook as another explosion ripped through the battlefield, scattering debris and ash into the air. A scream pierced through the haze, sharp and desperate.
Katsuki turned toward the sound and froze. Deku. The boy's figure stood frozen in a heavily injured shock, the shadow of a villain looming over him.
The cracks on his chest throbbing as he launched himself forward. Pain lanced through his ribs with every step, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
Not when death was whispering so loudly in his ears, so breathily and lovingly.
Not when his childhood friend and rival stood like that.
The villain turned toward him, a malicious grin spreading across their face. Katsuki didn’t give them time to gloat. His fist connected with their jaw, an explosion ripping through the air as they stumbled back.
But the cracks spread further. His chest burned, the black veins now winding up his throat. Katsuki staggered but kept moving.
The lullaby was so loud in his head, so loud that he felt like everyone could hear it too. The villain clearly did, with the way that death hovered over their form.
"Not yet" Katsuki whispered, his voice hoarse. The lullaby swelled in his mind, the melody soft but insistent. It called to him, pulling him closer. Closer, closer, ever closer.
He knew. He knew what he had to do.
The battlefield fell still as Katsuki stepped forward, his voice breaking through the chaos.
"Hush now, close your weary eyes…"
The words carried on the wind, soft and low, yet they cut through the noise like a blade. Villains froze in place all across the battlefield, their faces pale, bodies trembling. The cracks across Katsuki’s chest glowed brighter, spreading faster now, their light consuming him.
"The stars will hold you where you lie…"
His voice wavered, each note dragging shards of his soul from his body. His knees buckled, but he didn’t stop. The lullaby wrapped around the battlefield like a shroud, silencing screams, explosions, everything but the melody.
He reached Deku, his hand trembling as he pulled the boy far behind him. "No more fears… no battles to fight…"
The lullaby’s verses left his lips, and Katsuki felt his strength fading. The cracks were consuming him, ink spilling from every wound, every pore.
The battlefield was still, all eyes watching as inky cracks crawled across his skin, wrapping around him and breaking off parts of his soul.
Unbeknownst to them, death moved silently through the battlefield, carefully gathering each fragment of Katsuki’s soul, holding them with a tenderness that almost felt human.
"...Rest your soul... and... remember... me"
The villains' were no longer a threat, crumpled like puppets with their strings cut. Their faces pale and lifeless as the last notes of the lullaby hung in the air.
The cracks and ink consumed him, swallowing everything, leaving only the song behind.
Deku dropped to his knees, bloodied hands clutching at the ashes where Katsuki had stood. His voice cracked as he whispered, "Kacchan…" Tears streaked his face, falling into the remnants of his friend.
Above, the clouds parted, revealing a faint shimmer of stars. The lullaby’s echo lingered in the air, a ghost of the sacrifice that had saved them all.
Katsuki had always known. He had always known that the lullaby would take him, sweetly, carefully, into death’s waiting arms. His soul might someday be stitched back together, but it would no longer be his own.
After all, he'd always known that such a lullaby would send him off.
He'd known that a lullaby like that would let death take him so sweetly, so carefully.
He'd always known.
Always.