Flawless

Descending ✅

For a majority of the weekend, Katsuki stayed secluded in his room, only going down to grab food or water whenever he felt like he could deal with all the glares directed towards him.

'Words already spread around then...'

He thought to himself, before going back upstairs.

-

The voices were worse than last time, as far as he can remember. Maybe he'd just gone without them for so long that they were just pent up, like, against a glass wall; Except all it took was a single pebble thrown at it, and the wall shattered.

He knows he deserves it, knows that its only one more day until Monday, and then everything is over.

Maybe they'll leave him alone, but its stupid to think that way, Katsuki knows.

-

Sunday is hell. His alarm doesnt wake him up (not that he's gotten much sleep these two days) and suddenly theres a knock at his door.
He sighs, standing up slowly. Maybe, if he's slow enough, the person on the other side of the door will leave.

When he reaches the door, just five minutes later, nobody's on the other side.
When he looks down he notices a small box, and picks it up, making sure not to move it around too much. He checks down both sides of the hall, before silently shutting the door, and moving back to his bed.

When he opens it theres a bunch of things inside, he doesn't recognize them at first. But the closer he looks, the quicker realization dawns on him.

These are items from his friends rooms, his things, and all of the stuff he'd given them as gifts. He'd never been good at showing affection towards his friends, so he'd gotten them small gifts, something easy enough to clean and still big enough to mean something.

Guess this means it's official, you're truly alone now.

Maybe its time to relieve some stress.

He stops looking through the box, shutting it closed gently; And chooses to ignore the voice, instead pushing himself into the corner of his room, crying as silently as possible.

Just like home.

Just like home.

-

Monday, he can do this, he has to be able to do this. The little amount of sleep he's running on is still enough to get him through the day, and he can always skip. It isn't like his parents could get any angrier with him.

As he walks to class, the anxiety and guilt swirl in his chest. The 1-A door only a few steps ahead.

I can do this.

He uses what little energy he has to push open the door, his eyes sticking to the very interesting ground, as he walks to his desk and sits down.

He watches kids rush to class outside, reminding him of his younger self. Nostalgia has dug its claws into his mind, and he finds himself wishing he was able to go back, back to before everything went to shit.

So much for trying to think positive.

Aizawa trudges into the classroom, and begins teaching the lesson they left off at on Friday.