Guilt. Bakugou harbours too much guilt. It was perhaps part of what one would call an inferiority complex, the desire to be more, the fear of being weak. He was always letting everyone know that he was strong, vowing that he would win, but the truth was that he knew he was vulnerable. There were too many emotions within him, too many feelings that made him feel as though he would always be belittled and condescended. He felt unwanted because he didn't want himself. If he were someone else, he would see himself and view him as a failure, a walking embarrassment. It made his blood curl and bubble with the same intensity as his anger, rippling sanguine. He was always telling others 'it's not my fault' but the truth was that he felt so much blame towards himself anyway. It was numbing and infuriating to feel all this hatred towards him, centering on his chest because his lungs hurt so much. They couldn't take a simple breath without some sort of guilt leaking out of his skin, piercing the organ they called his heart. It shouldn't be possible to hold so much blame in himself, this feeling of regret.

Everything was beginning to pile. He wasn't there to save Kirishima from dying in that old world, wasn't there to help his friend from all these injuries that plagued him. Bakugou couldn't save Goldenluxury when Luca had turned into that...that thing, then wasn't even around when she was captured or there to assist in the rescue raid. It infuriated him further to have not realised some members were missing, still trying to escape from The Pitt and returning so brutally injured. Then there was Masie, unaware that his own skin could burn when he felt so angry. Even the sensation of watching Caesar accidentally burn Peppino made him feel his own bones beginning to shudder, stress itching within him. The more guilt he felt, the more anger began to consume any other emotion. Consequently, his fire became hotter and less controlled. He didn't want to hurt anyone but it was happening anyway. His own paws burned the grass and soil when he worked because he felt so angry. Neck tight, jaws stiff, stomach sucked in. His whole body felt as though it was closing in on itself, unable to feel loose.

The Reaver was finding himself staring at the sea again, watching the way it drifted aimlessly back and forth. The ash that usually clung to his fur had been swept away by the breeze, indicating just how long he had been doing nothing. Normally he would have scolded another for it, telling them to get off their ass and to be useful again. This time he was a hypocrite but it was the only thing that could let his mind stay clear. And yet he was wrong. Emotion begun to rise, his temples seemed to be pulling towards each other like magnets, bones clenching into his organs. Bakugou feels himself begin to choke, vision becoming clouded before he looks up, eyes staring back at him. He stands up, a breath leaving his lips in panic. There were more, staring at him with the universe's disinterest, pupils locked on his form. The ragdoll turns around, his flaming tail burning bright and hotter like a warning sign but no matter where he looked there were eyes, eyes, eyes.

He steps backwards, hitting at a tree that begun to catch fire from his elementals, unaware of what he had done. He continues to try to move away, seeing the way they followed him. His own eyes were already beginning to water on their own. Judgement was staring right at him, stern and cold, despising the meekness of Bakugou. Then, the ragdoll loses his footing, slipping down a small dune of sand and lying there. He hadn't been knocked out cold but he was afraid, trembling, keeping his eyes shut but within the darkness there were the same seeing orbs, watching him in a dreadful silence.