Y/N screamed in frustration, tossing the glass at the wall with his left hand.

It shattered on impact, exploding into a shower of glass shards that caught the light and sparkled like falling comets to the ground.

"Why can't I just get over them?!"

He'd caught himself thinking of his classmates at U.A again. No, not his classmates. His friends.

It had been a bit unrealistic from the start. A contract killer. Someone who'd taken lives, someone who'd ruined countless families and destroyed countless relationships. With friends.

Did Y/N deserve this? To have his newfound life taken away from him in an instant, and by the very people he was trying to get closer to.

Is it my own fault that this happened?

The boy's eyes were rimmed with red as he stared at the broken glass on the floor. He tentatively reached out to touch the shards, cutting his finger.

And watching numbly as crimson blood dripped onto the glass.

Am I in the wrong for wanting friends?

Y/N's mind was blank as he moved his gaze to the wall.

It was nothing special, just a normal wall, but his eyes roamed over it like he could read something in its grains.

On impulse, he walked over to the contract board in his living room, looking over the images as he tried to make sense of himself.

How did I get into this situation...

Was it the training camp? Y/N traced the image of Midoriya with his index finger, pausing on the boy's chest.

Probably not. The training camp was only an outcome of something that happened before.

Then, was it the news that had been all over me?

Y/N's finger moved from Midoriya to Bakugo, outlining the blond's spiky hair. It trembled slightly, his eyes firmly fixed on the picture.

Again, probably not. While the news brought me to the police's attention, they would have got a hold of me anyways.

So was it me joining U.A?

That was a better possibility. If Y/N hadn't gone to U.A, he wouldn't have made friends in the first place, then he would be fine right now. Wouldn't he?

Or maybe it was the fact that I kill people. If we remove that, then I could have attended U.A like a normal person, and I wouldn't have had to keep secrets, and I could have had friends.

His finger dropped to Todoroki's image, and Y/N hesitated for a second before tracing the boy's outline like the others.

But killing is literally my life. At first it was to survive, then it was to get enough money to live, then after that... it was just to fill time, I guess. Money was nice though.

And my quirk isn't suited for a hero. It's powered by stealing other things' life, so how could a hero use it?

He hummed softly.

Then... then it was just me being born in the first place, wasn't it?

Y/N sighed, letting his finger fall limp to his side as he looked at his right arm. It was a mess, scabs and dried blood everywhere. He hadn't had the energy nor the mental capability to clean it yet.

He spoke aloud, voice completely drained of energy. "This is no good."

Somehow he had to push through this, get back on his feet and get back to what he did best.

But for now, it was good enough to just mope around.

Y/N reached into his cabinet and picked out a second glass. An expensive champagne glass that he'd bought for absolutely no reason.

He remembered the time he'd got it. A few years ago, when he was still young. Well, when he still felt young. The thrill of spending money on something completely useless to him.

The boy's fingers tightened around the stem, knuckles turning white as a single tear worked his way into his eye.

The glass stem snapped off, and as the top half fell to the ground to shatter, Y/N was left with a sharp spike of glass.

His hand tightened even more, and he gave a helpless cry of rage, stabbing into his couch and ripping through the fabric.

I hate this. Why do I feel so... so goddamn useless? Friends are temporary. So why am I so screwed over just losing a few?

Y/N took out another glass, tossing it against the wall and listening to the crash of it breaking.

Another glass came out of the cabinet, and again it was thrown at the wall, smashing into pieces and throwing shards all over the floor.

Then another. Y/N's vision was tinted red as his numbness faded to anger, his vision going red as the glass shards rolled over the floor.

Y/N didn't want to stop, but his attention wandered over to the contract board again.

His fists tightened as he tried to hold back tears. "I'll get them back."

A chill washed through his body, for no apparent reason. "I'll get them back."

A tear leaked out his eye, but he smiled, repeating his words.

"That's it. I'll get them back." He coughed horribly, grabbing the glass stem from where it was embedded in the couch and turning it over in his hands.

Y/N stabbed it back into the couch a few times, a chuckle escaping his throat as he destroyed the fabric. Stuffing spilled out.

There was something different in the boy's eyes.

"I'll get them back." He spoke it like a motto, and his e/c eyes flickered purple for a split second. Alongside that different thing.

Maybe something along the lines of madness.