"Holding onto anger is like drinking poison

and expecting the other person to die."

-Buddha

"If I may ask before you murder me... Who are you?"

The question didn't even throw the woman for a loop. It seemed that she had already expected that he wouldn't, in fact, know why she wanted to kill him of all things. Although, there were a lot of possibilities if Deku was to be honest; he couldn't even say for certain why someone would want to kill him at this point (and wasn't that sad?). But the fact that she said 'Allen Bowman' when referring to him...

That truly didn't make any sense.

Other than essentially facilitating Endeavor's demise during the period of time that he had donned this new identity, he hadn't done anything that would make people want to murder him. He had been masquerading as a hero of all things, for Pete's sake!

"You... You were the goddamn reason that my father-! My father-! ...My father passed away a week ago from stress. That little stunt you pulled led to Endeavor, the bastard, going on trial and being the subject of public despise. And my father that knew nothing of it, that had never had anything to do with it, and he-! ...All the stocks crashed at once, the image of the company was ruined, and he went bankrupt."

Her sharp nails dug into her palms, one little droplet of blood escaping from it before she looked at herself in shock.

Slowly, she released the harsh grip of her fingers, her face settling down into a blank line; she seemed much calmer now (and a whole lot more dangerous if things took a turn for the worst; he'd take a crazed maniac fueled by emotions over the cold, calculated murder of a calm person any day. They were two entirely different scenarios to face, even if the person in question was a petite girl with no muscle).

Seizing his opportunity, Deku chose the moment to ask a careful question.

"Even if your father went bankrupt, a starving camel is still bigger than a horse; how did you end up like this?"

She laughed.

It was so filled with despair that he was taken aback for a moment, but he'd seen worse, ultimately. He just never expected it to come from the mouth of what seemed to be a brat, appearance-wise, anyway. Fingers that were smooth and unblemished, a body that had not a single ounce of muscle within it, and slanted eyes that seemed to look down on everyone and everything like they were mere dust at her feet.

She fit every single archetype of a spoiled princess.

He felt sorry for thinking such things a moment later because it truly wasn't enough to judge people's appearances for an accurate rendition of their personality. It might have, possibly, been her true personality, her true self before whatever had happened to her, well, happened to her. But humans have always had unlimited possibilities of growth, of change; he himself was the most prominent example.

He went from a slightly depressed, but still happy-go-lucky teenager to a mess of broken shards, morals, and dreams.

He was a murderer. He caused his mother's death. He was out on a blood-crazed quest of revenge; they had all shaped him and changed him in ways that he wouldn't have imagined to be possible, back when he was just that quirkless kid in middle school. If he could do it, it was unfair to deny other people the same right as him. The change seemed to be negative in this case though; he'd rather she didn't have to have the sin of murder constantly pressing down on her consciousness as it had done to him. For that reason alone, he'd resist her.

He was interrupted from his musings with her late reply to him. She had been laughing the whole time before her emotions seemed to die out and she grew ever so tired and full of misery. It was exactly what happened when you used anger to fuel your being. You loved a thing so, so much, but then something happened; it died, it was destroyed, or it ran away, and then, that love turned into a thick rope of hate that strangled the object of your hate ever so painfully.

When really, all you were was hurting.

But unfortunately, there's no bandage for the mind. Just time (and even then, sometimes that didn't work).

"My mother's side had never liked us, my father and I... And they're a bunch of greedy old fucks, I can tell you that. They stole everything that we had left in one fell swoop. Father had always had a weak heart. He couldn't take the stress of it all. And then he passed away."

Her head inclined at a sharp angle as she turned to look at him once more, and with shaking eyes, she declared:

"Please... die for me?"

She began to cry, salty drops of water pooling at her eyelashes before free-falling down her face.

She sunk in on herself, like a little tiny child, and her whole body trembled.

Deku didn't know what to say, for once in his life. He had always been a talkative on, but this left him at a loss for words.

"I know it's stupid... I know it isn't you're fault... I know it's actually praiseworthy and I'm so, so... Fuck. It... It wasn't supposed to be like this. I actually enjoyed it at first. Papa finally had time for me after all these years and I'm older, so he didn't hit me for being stupid and bringing home bad grades in school... I supported us both with my paycheck, and I was happy. But this... What the hell am I even doing..?"

She fell down to her knees.

"I'm an adult for god's sake. Why am I trying to kill a child? Why am I acting like this? Like this... I'm no better than I was before... I thought I got better, became a better person, but why is it that even now, I'm still like this? I-... I-..."

She reached into her pocket, and with shaking hands, took out an old gun; it barely looked like it could shoot a bullet, let alone have any accuracy.

That is unless it was placed at the temple.

Then, no matter how much of a poor shot you were, it would surely go wherever you decided to point it to.

"What the hell are you doing-"

The gun pointed at her own skull fired, Deku being too late to stop it; he was still injured, after all, and he had only managed to get up in a half-sitting position when he had heard the shot and felt the tug of his handcuff. Even without that, if you knew anything about guns, you would know that the bullet itself moved faster sound. He might have stood a chance at stopping it if he had Gray at his side. Actually. It wouldn't have worked either way. A dose of electricity was just as fatal as a bullet to the head.

But more than anything else, Deku was mad. This woman, who intruded into his hospital room and explained her motives and then acted like she wanted to kill him, went ahead and shot herself in the temple. It wasn't even that that made him mad. This woman didn't use suicide the proper way it was supposed to be used; an escape from a life that was worse than death. She used it as a goddamn method to kill herself in an irrational bout of negativity. And worst of all, she succeeded.

If he had succeeded, then...

Then none of the events of the past year and a half would have happened. People wouldn't have been murdered, his mother wouldn't have been murdered, and all around, the world would be a much, much happier place. The only thing to trigger all of this was his existence. Despite all his plans, despite all the thought he had put into it, despite how much he had endured, the little bitch in front of him had succeeded, just like that.

(And... And it was because of him again, no less. Despite his anger at her sheer gall, there was also a suffocating, icy feeling in his gut because someone-had-died-again-and-it-was-all-his-fault-again. ...Why was it always his fault? Why was he always the thing that made other people miserable? ...Why?)

And then the security broke in, quirks blazing.

He was slightly perturbed by the sight of the powerful quirks they had (wasn't this too much, even for a hospital?) before he raised the one hand that he could high up in the air in the direction of a few elemental quirks that looked ready to put a bunch of holes in his head.

"This... This isn't what it looks like."

"Like hell it isn't! Girls, capture him!"

The girl at the front that seemed to be the captain of the bunch looked him with a gaze of disgust and despise.

He kept that calm smile on his face, but there was a touch of irritation on it now.

Right as they were about to capture him, he spoke.

"I'm a patient here. All my belongings were taken away. How could I possibly have a gun on me? And what am I supposed to shot the damn thing with? My non-dominate hand? Before you make accusations, please think about the actual situation at hand. I'm innocent."

An awkward silence prevaded the room.

"How... How is she dead then?! Answer me!"

It was Deku's turn to look at her with a look of disdain.

"Suicide. What else?"