[ warning: chapter may contain disturbing images and depictions of self-harm that may upset some readers. viewer discretion is advised. ]

Black, and warm, and deep, like the familiar ocean threatening to fill your lungs.

And along with that conformation, the dark eyes that make your own fill with tears once again, comes a laugh, ripping from your throat as your knees buckle.

That hope that everything was a nightmare disappears, and you're not sure if you should even let yourself be happy. Still, you call his name.

"Shinimi?"

❧

You inhale, choking on the thick, smoke filled air. You didn't notice it until you took a breath. Now it's bringing you back to reality as you cough, your body wrenching forward.

"Shinimi," you gasp, fumbling towards him, "Shinimi."

You say his name, because that's all you can say. You have so many questions: 

how'd he escape? is this real? why is there smoke everywhere? why is he here, instead of the hospital?

"We have to get out of here," you say to him, hugging him close, "I think the building's on fire."

"It won't help," he says, letting his chip bag fall to the floor, "It won't help."

His voice is dry and bland. It holds no emotion, no hint of happiness to see you again. He sounds scared. Scared and hurt.

You drag him out of the supposedly burning building, the scent of ash never leaving his clothes. The smell burns your nose, the familiar smell of smoke. It chokes you, and even as you shut the door to the store it still lingers.

"Shinimi," you gasp, sitting down with him, "Are you okay? How'd you get away?"

Your heart stings; this feels oddly familiar. You think of the illusion of Shinimi, who Midoriya stabbed in the back. But this time, it's different.

It's different now. This is real.

Shinimi winces everytime he moves, his face wrinkled in pain and discomfort. 

"It hurts," he mumbles, "it hurts so much."

You place your hands on his arm, activating your quirk, pouring everything you can into healing this broken boy. No smile appears on his face, however, and there's no sigh of relief from his lips. 

Your head starts to throb again, and you let your hands fall to the ground.

"Where's Nakano?" Shinimi strains, "And Midoriya? Are they okay?"

You can't even nod. "I don't know."

"Kano,"--he flinches--"must be hurting, too."

His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. His breath hitches every time his chest rises, and you can't bear watching his face contort in pain.

"What do you mean?" You ask him, a silent tear falling down your cheek.

"Liquid Fire," he mumbles, "It hurts so bad. We always used to hurt at the same time."

You think of Nakano, who's probably in the hospital, suffering herself. No doubt she'll be dead soon, from both the Liquid Fire and the injuries Midoriya gave her. You're not sure how to feel. You should feel sad, right? Knowing she'll be dead? But instead you feel that empty, ocean feeling; so familiar, yet deadly, like torture flowing through your veins.

You take Shinimi's hand. "Is there anything I can do?"

He looks at you, finally showing some hint of feeling. Tears spill over his lashes, leaving streaks down his freckled face. 

"I'm going to die."

That's when you realize where the smoke is coming from. 

He's slowly burning, from the inside out. 

That's when the ocean spills over you, and you sink into the darkness you'd been trying so hard to fight. What's left now? If Shinimi and Nakano are going to die? And what of the life you could've had? Ruined by a knife and a single motion? 

Your family is dead. You'll never be able to look Midoriya in the eyes again. So, then, what's the point?

No, you shouldn't be thinking such selfish things right here, right now, in this fleeting moment that will be gone in an instant. 

You watch Shinimi. 

What do you say to a dying boy? "I'm sorry"? 

No amount of sorrys could turn back time.

"Look at me," you say to him instead, "Look at me."

He does, turning his head with a groan. 

"I love you, okay?" You tell Shinimi, placing your palm on his cheek.

You jerk away. It's hot.

He doesn't answer with another I love you. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't smile. He doesn't do anything you would do if you were dying. He looks at you, though, with those dark eyes of his, freckles hidden with shadows cast by the rising moon.

"Kill me," he begs, "please kill me."

Your eyes widen as you watch his skin; it slowly darkens past each shade of red, and more smoke rises from his body. The smell of burning flesh makes you want to puke, but you can't. You can't talk, you can't breathe, you can't move.

"Kill me." Shinimi says, louder this time.

You cover your nose, tears spilling from your eyes because of both the smell and the way he pleads to die.

For a moment, you consider it, as you watch him choke on the smoke coming from his own lungs, but you remember what Midoriya said:

"If that was really him," he explained, "I would've turned to ash the moment his blood touched my skin. The Liquid Fire inside of him would've engulfed us both in seconds."

"I can't," you manage to say through the smoke, "I can't, or I'll die too."

"Please!" He shouts, grabbing your shirt, "Please kill me! Kill me before the poison does! I can't die the same way Horyo did!"

His boiling skin burns through the cloth hem, and you flinch away from him, feeling the heat from the boy's body. It feels like you're standing too close to a fire.

You think of Horyo, and the way he burst into flames and killed himself. It wasn't the same; no, he didn't have the poison in his veins, but he died by his own hand. By his own quirk. 

By his own choice, like Shinimi wants. By wanting to be different than Horyo, he's going to die the same way he did.

The teen's skin bubbles, like acid through his skin. 

He's cooking, from the inside out.

You throw up, emptying the contents of your stomach on the sidewalk. The smell, the way he begs, everything is too much for you.

"I can't do it!" You cry, turning to face him again, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

He reaches for you, as if not caring if you burn with him. You can't be mad at him, though; it must hurt. You can't imagine.

But you don't want to stay and find out what it feels like.

You start to stand, your legs telling you to run, but as you look down at the boy, you can't. You can't leave him to die alone. That would only make you a monster. You'd be what you've feared all your life.

But maybe the monsters were never under your bed, maybe they were in your head this whole time.

You grab something from inside the convenience store, wincing at Shinimi's wails, then handing it to him without hesitation.

"I can't kill you," you whisper, handing him the knife, "but you can."

He takes it eagerly, almost slitting his throat immediately. 

But then he stops, and he looks at you with a small smile. He uses all of his energy that's left to say it, loud enough so you can hear, loud enough so that you'll never forget.

"I love you, too."

He brings it to his neck, slicing it in one swift motion. 

One swift motion, to take a life, just like you took Uraraka's. The familiar sound of the knife hitting the ground, and a shout of pain as someone takes their last breath. His throat gurgles as he screams, but it stops.

And then the boy you cry for, the boy you'd die for, the boy you never wanted to say goodbye to, is gone.

You watch his body, bubbling, burning, wilting away, turning to ash only to be swept away by the wind. 

It makes you think of Horyo. Shinimi must've felt the same pain he did when he was inside the other boy's head; no, he must be feeling even more so.

Your stomach churns as you sit in silence, tears falling like rain.

His eyes are the first to go, and you can't take yours away from his lashes, flames licking them up and down. The flames curl around his body as his blood soaks the concrete. 

You stumble away, remembering that it's flammable. 

The stench hits you first, though, and you throw up again.

You choke on the smoke, the taste of puke in your mouth, wanting to die yourself in that moment. But wouldn't that be cruel? To say goodbye to him, and then to leave right after? As if his existence meant nothing at all?

Thoughts, feelings, regrets, nausea swirls in your head as you back away from his body.

It'd be so easy.

You stare at the knife he dropped.

You shake your head, the aching returning. You start to sob, unable to breathe through your tears and the smoke filling the air.

It'd be so easy.

It's like the fire is reaching for you, like Shinimi is asking you to join him.

It'd be so easy.

It stinks. Your head hurts. Your muscles ache. Your heart stings for the boy, and your eyes hurt from the constant tears.

It'd be so easy.

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