TRIGGER WARNING, PLEASE READ: VIVID DETAILS OF SUICIDE, DON'T TAKE LIGHTLY. PLEASE IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM AND WILL GET TRIGGERED, PLEASE TURN AWAY IMMEDIATELY. SKIP THIS CHAPTER, DON'T READ. IF YOU ARE NOT EMOTIONALLY READY, PLEASE STOP HERE. This also deals with depression, guilt, and feelings of worthlessness. 

Numbness was the first thing he felt upon appearing at the sight. His eyes studied her form engrossingly from afar as the breath was knocked out of his lungs, in that moment, he forgot how to breathe, breathing at that moment was not on his mind. He was shaking, his whole body throughout was trembling in utter disbelief, yet at the same time, he was paralyzed in the very spot he stood. Every bone within his youthful self felt heavy, like a weight, as gravity pressed down onto him more than usual, the quivering knees of him gave out, making his weakened knees hit the coarse grass underneath him.

His arms hung lifelessly from his sides as his jaw dropped in utter and horrifying spurning. His world stopped, and everything else turned black and white in his vision, his center of attention zoomed in even though he was at a distance. His heart drummed in his eardrums in a deafening manner, his heart rate skyrocketing compared to the rate not even a minute before, and like his heart, his mind was also in a frenzy-like fashion, scattered and thunderingly blaring.

Drooping his head down, he shook his head, while his fist clenched tightly, nails burrowing into the rough skin of his, his hair flowing over his forehead as a solemn expression written across his face, though his empty voids were filled with only incredulity.

The cold, cruel reality whispered to him, conflicting with the thoughts of how the sight before him wasn't real. That he was imagining all of this, that the irrational part of his brain told her this was all a lie, like a scene or act in a movie that was being played out before him, tricking his eyes and mind into creating a false illusion. His brain suggested that this was all just a bad dream, and he'll soon wake up once all the torment is over, wake up to a bright and colorful tomorrow.

But no. Everything was so dull... as if frozen in time, a still image, a freeze frame. There was only him... and her... Those hushed voices once again told him that she wasn't there in that instance, fears and insecurities manifesting something unreal. There was the whimper though, the small part of his consciousness to him too harshly that none if this was fake.

He wished this was.

An ear-piercing scream that broke ringing silence came from somewhere near, but he couldn't find where the source came from, nor could he care, not with his eyes on the body in front of him. The shrill slid down his ear canals, but his mind was already too busy to process it, only when there was the pang in his vocal chords that made him realize: that was him screaming.

He wasn't able to close his lips, unable to repress the outburst of emotions going through him, as his screaming seemed to have lasted for hours, until his voice was so sore, and his eyes were so dented by the horrific sight. Desperately he wanted to turn away, in refusal, but his body continued to see the truth, denying him access to be blind. Despite every thought in his head ordering himself to flinch away, every nerve was stiff. Why couldn't he look away?

His eyes first landed onto the tree, avoiding her in every way possible. With a thick and sturdy trunk, bulky branches outstretched from the base. Notably, one of the branches had a knot tied around it, being pulled down by something heavy. He didn't dare allow his eyes to travel down that rope, because he couldn't. Everything within him caused a riot, screeching for him not to look. Instead, all he could do was look down below, legs dangling above the ground he stood on. His body began to tremble more as from her feet, his look travelling upwards.

Why? Why did she have to wear that one? Why...? No, no, no, it felt surreal, too surreal. Shota placed a hand over his lips, cupping his mouth, as he closed his eyes. The moment he saw blackness, he felt relief, as he relished in not having to face the body hovering above the ground.

"This is the first dance you've been to, right?" A younger Shota asked as he looked over to Y/N, who stood before her closet, the few attire and clothes it held as the girl gave the boy a small nod. "Yeah... I don't really know what to pick, and I figured you should help me."

"Well... I'm not really good with all this girls' stuff... Nemuri would probably be better for this..., but I'll see what I can do. What do you want to wear?" The male asked her, looking through her stuff, not finding anything really suitable for a dance.

"A dress would be nice..." Y/N mumbled, tweaking with her fingers. "I know Nemuri is better at this but... I really only feel comfortable with you... is that okay?" Round, caring eyes filled with nervousness gazed back at him, making Shota sigh. "Okay, well, let's see what dresses you have." His fingers weaved through the pieces of outfits, searching for the dresses. Y/N helped with guiding him to which section held the dresses. "All of them are there, but some were from a few years ago so they might not fit."

(A/N: Sorry if you guys don't want a dress! I wanted to put whatever you guys wanted, but for a later detailed scene in this chapter, it would be hard to be detailed about something I can't describe since the clothing is up to the reader! I decided to just make it a dress for better impact on the story, but if you prefer a suit or whatever, imagine it how you would like in the upcoming scene!)

Shota nodded, before finding a particular dress that caught his eye. It was a one piece, with the skirt hanging low from the waistline, and the sleeveless top that would reveal her shoulders, with the collarbone area lacy, and below it decorated with a set of frills that ran along it. Behind, a criss cross that stretched at the back, leaving the wearer's back vulnerable. Shota thought about how Y/N would look in the dress, imagining her body wearing the dress. His hormonal thoughts made him slap himself mentally as he blushed red, making sure to turn around from Y/N before she could spot his reddened face.

'You perv,' he thought to himself ambashfully before moving on to the next dress, deciding he should save that dress later if he couldn't find anything better. "Do you like that one?" she questioned bewilderedly as she watched him place the dress softly into a seperate area than the pile of where the other dresses laid, his reddening fading away. His response was a nod.

He looked back to her, but as he did, all he could imagine was her in the same dress. With her shoulders shown and her back open for his eyes, his blush came back as he awkwardly looked away. "Y-yeah, it'd look cute on you..." he confessed, before panic arose inside of him as the realization that he had just admitted to that, awkwardly averting his gaze off of her, going back to mentally screaming at himself.

'Why'd you go and say that you idiot?' He turned back to her, about to apologize before she cut him off.

"You think so?" She commented innocently as she cocked her head. "Really?"

An awkward silence formed between the two of them, waiting for Shota to reply as his mind was going haywire, trying to figure out what to say in the most casual way possible, but he couldn't help a small smile appear as he imagined what tomorrow night would be like with her by his side, in her dress.

"Yeah, it'll look good on you."

His heart quenched agonizingly, with a bold turn of his head, his eyes travelled upwards. Starting from her bare feet, his eyes followed upperwards, skimming over her ankles, then to the long black skirt that held her hips loosely, the fabric swaying to the wind gently. He sucked in a breath, a sharp twist that his beating organ took inside of him as more tears brimmed at his eyelids, liquid pooling and blinding him as they then ran over his cheek slowly.

The image of her in that dress burned through his mind as he sobbed uncontrollably now, wondering if this was the end to everything they had now... he tilted his head upwards as he began to cry, his loud cries didn't seem to bother her though anymore... the tears that mingled and slid down together his cheeks and down his chin dripped onto his clothes, but none of that mattered. His hands twitched, in an effort to at least cover his shameless sobs but he couldn't. His nerves wouldn't allow him to move any part of his body, there were too many emotions going through him.

The letter... she really meant it as the final goodbye, didn't she? He couldn't accept her absence, not yet in his life, he'd come to convince her that leaving wasn't the best idea, but there was no point in trying to convince him, no point in attempting to convince someone who was too far long gone... he was too late to change anything when he should have... no, he refused. She couldn't be gone, she was still there... there wasn't a possible way that she would ever leave him... she couldn't! She made a promise... they would have been heroes together... side by side...

He jolted as he felt a pair of eyes that were watching him, but there was no emotions behind those eyes, dim and dulled colors in the irises as they stared at him, piercing his soul. The pair continued to stare down at him, and they did nothing, only observing, only watching him. Like watching a film, those eyes didn't blink, didn't move, they were just set on him as he broke down. Why weren't they moving? Why couldn't they just look away? There was no emotion, not in them, not a single clear emotion set in those pupils. Why couldn't they stop staring... he could only describe them in one way... they were so empty... so lifeless, as if there was never a single shred of happiness in them... no... he recognized those eyes before... those e/c eyes...

Oh god... Shota felt as if he would hurtle, feeling something arise inside of him, something that made him sick and his stomach churned in the most unpleasant way possible. The sudden realization as he pulled away from those taunting eyes, freezing at Y/N's face. His breath shuddered violently as he forgot how to breathe.

Her face blushed with blue... her whole face was pale, skin of a ghastly blue, those lifelessness in her partially closed eyes, and the way her mouth was curved slightly upwards, into a haunting small smile. His eyes widened as he continued to do nothing but just further tried to process... but he couldn't... Why was she looking at him like that? Why was she like this? Why was she smiling?

Why did that rope hang around her neck...

A jolt of denial rushed through him, connecting the dots silently in his head... he was right...

NO! NO this was impossible! This couldn't be, she was awake, she was alive, she was there, she had promised, she wouldn't leave, she wouldn't leave him, not like Oboro... He got up on his knees as he reached for her, holding onto her waist for support as he looked up at the daunting tree that was planted before him, a thick branch tied to the nope that wrecked around her form. He swallowed a gulp as his wet hands wrapped around the thick and strong material, pulling on it tightly.

She was so cold...

He tugged and tugged, hoping with every movement of his wrists that he was able to tear the rope as kept on with his attempts of getting the rope off. He stopped for a second to see if there was another way, maybe he could find something to cut through... he didn't have anything sharp enough... fuck...

"Damn it!" He cursed as he began feeling the sting from pulling on it so hard. He forced himself to go harder, as hemp rope began to bruise his palms from the force, gripping onto it tighter while he ignored the pang before it finally snapped, and from the impact, he and Y/N tumbled down onto the ground, Y/N landing into his arms.

Shota immediately sat up as he supported Y/N's back with one arm, the other on her cheek. He gazed at her for a little, before hugging her tightly to his chest. "Y/N... wake up..." he cried out quietly with desperation in his tone, gently shaking her. There was no physical or verbal response from her, and he proceeded to try and wake her up once more. "Y/N... please... wake up..." The helplessness inside of him stirred as it kept reminding him of how he felt with Oboro. The very reminder of Oboro's fate made him nudge her body less gently. Fear piled onto him, as it began overwhelming him with his thoughts not being able to make one coherent string of words inside his head. The insistent fear that he had lost another one... he couldn't lose Y/N... not again...

She was so cold...

"Y/N... wake up please... wake up..." Shota hit down on his tongue, knowing this wasn't the time for the pride that once swelled up inside of him. Regrets began overflowing him as he struggled on his words, his mind flashing back to the fight he had. He was just so angry at himself, the worthlessness constantly lingered around him, and he couldn't help it... he just wanted to protect her... so she couldn't leave him like Oboro... His fingers ran through her hair, usually this action would soothe him, but it didn't make him any less scared, terrified at the thought of having to attend another funeral and having to say one last goodbye. "Please... I'm sorry! I-I was wrong!" He sniffled as he thought back to his words. His words of hate and anger, he'd known that Y/N had been told these words to her before. Those words that broke her trust, the words that had broken her heart, but he hadn't known that they had broken her.

After Oboro's death, Y/N had comforted him all this time. She'd allow him to cry on her for so long, sleep with him when he just needed reassurance that she wasn't going anywhere, but it stopped the feelings he bottled up inside of himself. He was there, he was there to witness and see them drag away his dead body, the numbness that settled within him after the loss of his best friend. The gut-wrenching feeling of just settling sheer worthlessness. He may have beaten the villain, but a hero is nothing if he couldn't save someone from dying. Especially if they were his loved ones.

It was selfish, but he'd wish those children and that teacher to have died instead. He'd wish that instead of seeing everybody else happy and thank the police officers and him gratefully, they'd be able to see the pain that went through him as he lost his best friend. The world torn Oboro away from him, and all he could was just stand there by idly as Oboro fucking died. He was supposed to be a hero-in-training. How could he have allowed Oboro to die? Why couldn't it have been anyone else? Why not him? Why did it have to be Oboro? What'd he do to deserve such a death? He was always the better hero, he was able to inspire strength into other people with his smile or laughter, able to help everyone he could, had no hesitation saving anyone, and had never been selfish in his life. Shota was nothing like that, so why did Oboro have to pay?

Words couldn't describe his ire. He was frustrated, frustrated and paranoid that everybody he knew was going to die or leave him like Oboro. He was enraged at himself, for not being able to do anything, and he was furious at the people who had gotten away while Loud Cloud had died. What happened to their agency? Why did it have to end there? He had refused to tell anyone of outrage, too afraid to tell Y/N and to see this side of him... being so livid against everyone and everything... so he hid it...

That was a poor mistake... Y/N understood what he felt like, and admitted she had felt at the fault of her mother, who had died of mysterious causes years ago when the two of them were younger. She confessed that she had killed her mother on accident, because of her sudden activation of her quirk, and she had known the helplessness and the numbness she had felt when her mother dropped dead on the ground, Y/N describing a young Y/N shaking her mother awake with hopes she was just tired and had fall asleep. She'd detail on the unsuccessful attempts of trying her best to use quirk so her mother can wake up conscious again, but she had never awoken once more. Shota knew she was just sympathizing with him, but all the pent-up rage had twisted his thoughts and emotions, and had villainized her.

He remembered his words well.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I-I shouldn't have said any of that... I-I'm sorry... w-wake up p-please... I lied... I-I lied... y-you do deserve to be at UA... y-you'll grow up to be a good hero... w-we promised we would be together in the future... please... don't give up on that now please..." Shota wept as he clung onto her even more, his heartache growing when not even a flinch was given. He buried his head in her shoulder, but he received no comfort. There was no brushing-his-hair-away action that followed after. Or the soft coos from Y/N as she did his best to calm him down. The arms that would wrap around him and give him warmth when he felt like he was drowning in his own sorrows were gone. Where was the lukewarm tea she would bring to his lips for him to drink? Those memories only made him cry harder as they continued to torment him. "Y/N wake up... p-please... I-I'm so sorry... w-wake up... please wake up... I'm not ready... I-I can't lose you too... wake up please..." His tears ran down her skin, and she was unfazed from this. Everything he had done had done nothing so far.

He didn't want to believe what they had was gone. It was too unfair of the world to rip one loved one, and then another. Maybe it was his fault, maybe he deserved this agony and torture but why did they have to suffer as well. Shota pulled away from her body to gaze into her eyes, tears streaming down his face and landing as droplets onto Y/N's pale skin. He stared back into her eyes, looking for any sign that discredited his belief that she was dead. But they were just as lifeless. They were so lifeless, an emotion Y/N had never displayed despite her current situation. She wasn't dead, and she couldn't be. How was it possible?

His mind burned through more memories, of times he'd held her like this, in the same position, but they were snuggled under a blanket watching a movie, or enjoying mugs of hot chocolate when the temperatures dropped on a chilly night. Or when he would just lay on Y/N to sleep, and she'd continue her book, the two of them both at peace and content with their current positions. But, his subconscious thought, they were never going to happen again. No more naps with Y/N sitting by his side, who'd occasionally ruffle his hair. No more being tutored from Y/N when he needed help on a math question. No more of the small hugs or the burst of affections that would make his heart skip a beat everytime. All of those were dead. She was dead.

All those feelings he had been harboring for years... not once had he shared them with her. Not until he was sure he had fallen in love with her he had considered, but he was terrified at the thought she wouldn't accept or reject his affections. Many nights, he'd dream of in the future the two of them would be the number one hero duo in the future, they'd be married, and they'd have a happy life, fighting bad guys, saving others, and being drunk on their love for each other. He had daydreams of what her lips would be like, and what would happen if their lips had met into a kiss, but there was no need for that anymore. He couldn't hope anymore... there was no point in trying to hope for something that'll never come true.

They'd never exchange 'I love you's.' They'd never hold hands, they'd never cuddle together on a bed, or talk about their plans of moving out, or discuss their future together. There was no future for them. Not anymore. All those years, and he had wasted it, he had thrown it all away because of his carelessness and his emotions, because he couldn't contain his grief and anger. Their love was dead because of him. Those years of memories, wasted and gone because of him.

A sinking realization dawned on him. He had been the cause. He had killed her. She was dead because of him. It was all his fault. He had done this. He was the reason it was like this. He was the reason why she laid broken before him in his arms. It was all his fault.

Knowing that he would never be able to tell those words he's been meaning to tell her for years, it hurt. He was filled with so many regrets, and never telling her he loved her was the biggest one. Maybe if he had told her that he'd love her before, she wouldn't be like this. She would have been alive. If he had apologized earlier, if he had done anything to make sure she was always worth it, she would have been alive.

It was all his fault.

"Y/N, please..." he pleaded, doubt and skepticism dripping from each breath of his. "Please... not like this... y-you can't leave m-me like this... I love you! Please..." He knew his confession was useless. Those words would never reach her ears. It wouldn't bring back the dead to the living world. Y/N was long gone. He'd read stories of the power of love, thinking of ways his and Y/N's love could be similar, idolizing couples that felt unstoppable when they were together. He'd wish they were like this. But his love couldn't do that. No matter how hard he wanted to try, it would all be for vain. Y/N would never wake up and reciprocate those words again. He'd never felt so useless before. But there was no hiding the guilt, the agony within him, the regrets, and the unspokens. The power of love couldn't do shit here, and he knew that. His love wasn't enough.

He wasn't enough.

Her heartbeat was gone. No sign of a pulse. No form of breathing. Not a single sight of movement. Y/N was dead.

She was dead.

Shota cradled Y/N in his arms as he cried. He cried about the death of his friend. The loss of the only one he loved. He cried over the fact he had already missed his best friend. He sobbed over the fact that he couldn't even say the words he wanted to say. He felt like the shittiest person on earth, and he wept because he couldn't handle the sorrow and the realization, and that he wasn't enough. He was never going to be enough for Y/N to live for, wasn't enough for Oboro to live for, he wasn't enough for anything. All he was good for was having friends leave him, and it was all his fault.

"Y/N... I-I'm so sorry." He held her tight with the knowledge it'd be the last time they'd be this close.

"I love you."

Shota lunged forward as he sat up, drenched in sweat as he began inhaling violently through his mouth. Tears streamed down his face and facial hair as he clenched on the sheets of his bed, his heart drumming abruptly, his mind plagued by that vivid flashback.

He clenched his fists tightly as he tried to calm himself down by staring into the abyss of his dark room, before rummaging for his phone and looking for the time. It was early, too early to be awake, but that damn nightmare had woken him up. He needed a distraction, something to distract himself, as he scrolled through his work email to see if he had gotten any new emails, regarding his teaching plan or Nezu having another meeting. Anything to distract him.

A small but quiet 'meow' was sounded beside him, making him jolt before realizing it was only Coffee. Shota's eyes softened as the cat nudged beside him, licking his palm. The ravenette petted the cat, the small cat giving him company for the remainder of time until he calmed down, with his heart at a steady pace now. Coffee gave him one last nudge with her head before jumping off the bed and heading back to her bed. "Thank you, Coffee," he exhaled.

But the comfort of the cat didn't stop him from bursting into years moments later, as he clenched his fists, looking down at his lap. "Worthless, fucking worthless." Y/N's suicide had affected him so much, and he hated to admit it. He has yet come into terms that Y/N was back again, that she had somehow been alive all this time.

But that was wrong. She had died. He was there. He held her body. For fuck's sake, he was the one who buried her. With his own hands and shovel, he was the one that buried her body. How was it possible that she was back...?

What was God playing at with trying to torture him again...