Cut Off- Bakugo Katsuki

4

"Well, this is it.... Thank you, Bakugo."

He could only admire the way she was carrying that weight on her shoulders. That backpack had to have at least four textbooks in it, why hadn't he asked to carry it for her? His reputation, what an idiot. He wasn't as gentle and nice as the rest of the boys of his class, but even his teacher had the courage to help a girl out. He doesn't move, just watching her unlock the door to her house.

"Shut up, extra. I gotta get home."

"Of course, have a good night." She turns around, grasping the doorknob and turning it. She steps inside, waiting for the familiar stomps of the bully. Her hand is forced open and she feels paper. She doesn't smile, feeling the texture and closing her eyes to look at it with her sky pair.

"Thank me later, stupid... Get some rest." He glances at the bags forming around her eyes, they had reminded him of the villain he'd encountered at the USJ. He had burnt skin on his face, it was scary. She didn't look scary though, not like that villain, she looked sad and tired. Probably something he'd have to bring up in order to look normal on Monday. He shakes his head, blushing at the thought of her having his number. Well, she did. He's here to help, he's supposed to be a hero. This was just weird though, what made him decide to even walk her home? Not even God knew. He sighs heavily, fiddling with his jacket. He doesn't move, finding that she was still there with the door ajar.

"Would... Would you like to hangout tomorrow?"

"What, don't have any other friends?" He laughs on impulse, forced chuckles leaving his throat as her face becomes even more saddened than before.

"Of course I have others.... Friends.... Nevermind then. Fuck off." She slams the door shut, he coulda sworn he saw more wet spots on her bandages. Bakugou made her cry. He brings his hands up to his face, shaking it horribly as he begins to walk home. He walks fast, his mother would have his head if he were late. Tonight's dinner was just plain old Ramen, and suddenly he wasn't hungry. Now only thinking of her crying face, he whips out his iphone, multiple cracks littered the screen because of his impulse decisions. He swipes up, no reason for a passcode. He waits, still walking. He waits. He waits.

She does not text him tonight.